[transcriber's note: the use of ~'s around a word signifies that the word was spaced out in the original l i k e t h i s.] [illustration: free academy, new york. [see p. .]] popular education: for the use of parents and teachers, and for young persons of both sexes. prepared and published in accordance with a resolution of the senate and house of representatives of the state of michigan. by ira mayhew, a.m., late superintendent of public instruction. new york: harper & brothers, publishers, cliff street. . entered, according to act of congress, in the year one thousand eight hundred and fifty, by ira mayhew, in the clerk's office of the district court of the united states for the district of michigan. state of michigan: house of representatives, } _lansing, february th ._ } hon. ira mayhew, _superintendent of public instruction_: sir: i am instructed by the house of representatives to transmit to you the following preamble and resolution, and to respectfully inform you that the same were this day _unanimously_ adopted by the house. i am, sir, very respectfully, your obedient servant, a. w. hovey, clerk of the house of representatives. _whereas_, in the opinion of this house, a manual on the subject of popular education, embracing such considerations as shall have a tendency to arouse the popular mind to a due appreciation of the importance--in a political, social, moral, and religious point of view--of securing to every child in all our borders a good common school education, together with such instructions to citizens and teachers as shall constitute a directory to the highest improvement of which our primary schools are susceptible, is a desideratum; therefore, _resolved, by the house of representatives of the state of michigan:_ that the hon. ira mayhew, the present superintendent of public instruction in this state, be requested to prepare for publication, in book form, the various matters set forth in his public lectures, delivered by request of the legislature, in the hall of the house, during the present session, together with such other matter as, in his judgment, would tend to the further improvement of our system of public instruction; to the end that the necessary information in regard to this subject may be diffused throughout the state and nation. * * * a preamble and resolution similar to the preceding were likewise adopted by the senate. preface. who is sufficient for these things? is a question which any one may well ask when sitting down to the preparation of a treatise on popular education. the author of this work would have shrunk from the undertaking, but from deference to the judgment of the honorable body that unanimously invited its preparation. he has also been encouraged not a little by many kind friends, one of whom, distinguished for his labors in the department of public instruction, writing from new england, says, "i rejoice at your good beginnings at the west. you have a noble and inspiring field of action. 'no pent-up utica contracts your powers.' i beseech you, fail not to fill it with your glorious educational truth, though you should pour out your spirit and your life to do so." the duties required by law of the superintendent of public instruction in the state of michigan are comparatively few. the author, however, five years ago, and soon after entering upon the discharge of those duties, undertook _voluntary labors_ for the purpose of awakening a deeper interest with all classes of the community in behalf of common schools, and of inspiring confidence in their redeeming power, when improved as they may be, constituting, as they do, _the only reliable instrumentality for the proper training of the rising generation_. these labors, which were hailed as promising great usefulness, and which were prosecuted in every county of the state, were every where received with unexpected favor, and constitute the foundation of the present volume. many of the subjects then discussed are here greatly amplified. among the lectures referred to in the resolution under which this work has been undertaken, was one on the "michigan school system." but as the convention for the revision of the constitution of this state is now in session, it has been deemed advisable to omit, in this connection, the extensive consideration of the details of that system. this may constitute the theme of a small manual which shall hereafter appear. in the present volume the author has endeavored so to present the subject of popular education, which should have reference to the _whole man_--the body, the mind, and the heart--and so to unfold its nature, advantages, and claims, as to make it every where acceptable. nay, more, he would have a good common education considered as the inalienable right of every child in the community, and have it placed _first among the necessaries of life_. for the better accomplishment of his object, he has freely drawn from the writings of practical educators, his aim being usefulness rather than originality. this course has been adopted, in some instances, for the sole purpose of enforcing the sentiments inculcated by the authority of the names introduced. acknowledgments have generally been made in the body of the work. these may have been unintentionally omitted in some instances, and especially in those portions of the work which were written several years ago, and the sources whence information was drawn are now unknown. an examination of the table of contents, and especially of the index at the end of the volume, will show the range of subjects considered, and their adaptation to the wants and _necessities_, i may say, of the several classes of persons named in the title-page, for whose use it was undertaken. written, as it has been, for parents and teachers, and for young persons of both sexes, it is what its title implies--a treatise on popular education--and is equally applicable to the wants of families and schools in every portion of our wide-spread country. with all its imperfections, of which no one can be more sensible than the author, this volume is given to the public, with the hope that it may contribute, in some degree, to advance the work of general education in the united states, but more especially in the state of michigan. ira mayhew. monroe, mich., july th, . contents. chapter i. in what does a correct education consist? page chapter ii. the importance of physical education chapter iii. physical education--the laws of health chapter iv. the laws of health--philosophy of respiration chapter v. the nature of intellectual and moral education chapter vi. the education of the five senses chapter vii. the necessity of moral and religious education chapter viii. the importance of popular education education dissipates the evils of ignorance education increases the productiveness of labor education diminishes pauperism and crime education increases human happiness chapter ix. political necessity of national education the practicability of national education chapter x. the means of universal education good school-houses should be provided well-qualified teachers should be employed schools should continue through the year every child should attend school the redeeming power of common schools index. national popular education. chapter i. in what does a correct education consist? i call that education which embraces the culture of the whole man, with all his faculties--subjecting his senses, his understanding, and his passions to reason, to conscience, and to the evangelical laws of the christian revelation.--de fellenberg. from the beginning of human records to the present time, the inferior animals have changed as little as the herbage upon which they feed, or the trees beneath which they find shelter. in one generation, they attain all the perfection of which their nature is susceptible. that being without whose notice not even a sparrow falls to the ground, has provided for the supply of their wants, and has adapted each to the element in which it moves. to birds he has given a clothing of feathers; and to quadrupeds, of furs, adapted to their latitudes. where art is requisite in providing food for future want, or in constructing a needful habitation, as in the case of the bee and the beaver, a peculiar aptitude has been bestowed, which, in all the inferior races of animals, has been found adequate to their necessities. the crocodile that issues from its egg in the warm sand, and never sees its parent, becomes, it has been well said, as perfect and as knowing as any crocodile. not so with man! "he comes into the world," says an eloquent writer, "the most helpless and dependent of living beings, long to continue so. if deserted by parents at an early age, so that he can learn only what the experience of one life may teach him--as to a few individuals has happened, who yet have attained maturity in woods and deserts--he grows up in some respect inferior to the nobler brutes. now, as regards many regions of the earth, history exhibits the early human inhabitants in states of ignorance and barbarism, not far removed from this lowest possible grade, which civilized men may shudder to contemplate. but these countries, occupied formerly by straggling hordes of miserable savages, who could scarcely defend themselves against the wild beasts that shared the woods with them, and the inclemencies of the weather, and the consequences of want and fatigue; and who to each other were often more dangerous than any wild beasts, unceasingly warring among themselves, and destroying each other with every species of savage, and even cannibal cruelty--countries so occupied formerly, are now become the abodes of myriads of peaceful, civilized, and friendly men, where the desert and impenetrable forest are changed into cultivated fields, rich gardens, and magnificent cities. "it is the strong intellect of man, operating with the faculty of language as a means, which has gradually worked this wonderful change. by language, fathers communicated their gathered experience and reflections to their children, and these to succeeding children, with new accumulation; and when, after many generations, the precious store had grown until memory could contain no more, the arts of writing, and then of printing, arose, making language visible and permanent, and enlarging illimitably the repositories of knowledge. language thus, at the present moment of the world's existence, may be said to bind the whole human race of uncounted millions into one gigantic rational being, whose memory reaches to the beginnings of written records, and retains imperishably the important events that have occurred; whose judgment, analyzing the treasures of memory, has discovered many of the sublime and unchanging laws of nature, and has built on them all the arts of life, and through them, piercing far into futurity, sees clearly many of the events that are to come; and whose eyes, and ears, and observing mind at this moment, in every corner of the earth, are watching and recording new phenomena, for the purpose of still better comprehending the magnificence and beautiful order of creation, and of more worthily adoring its beneficent author. "it might be very interesting to show here, in minute detail, how the arts of civilization have progressed in accordance with the gradual increase of man's knowledge of the universe; but it would lead too far from the main subject." the preceding sketch may remind us of the low condition of man in a state of ignorance and barbarism, and of the high condition to which he may be brought by cultivation. we possess a material and an immaterial part, mutually dependent on each other. on one hand, we may well say to corruption, thou art my father; and to the worm, thou art my mother and my sister. on the other hand, the psalmist says of man, thou hast made him a little lower than the angels. in the scriptures we learn the origin and history of man--the subject of education. he was created in the image of his maker. it was his delightful employment, in innocency, to dress the beautiful garden in which he dwelt. presently we learn he transgressed. his subsequent career becomes infelicitous. in the earlier history of the human race, the days of his pilgrimage were protracted several hundred years. in process of time, because of the prevalence of sin, a universal deluge swept away the entire family of man, save _one_--a preacher of righteousness--and those of his household. subsequently his days were shortened to three score years and ten. much of this time is consumed in helpless infancy, in sleep, and in securing the necessary means of supporting animal life. this, it would seem, is calamity enough; but not so. man finds himself beset with temptations on every side, to deepen and perpetuate his degradation, by giving reign to unbridled passion. but a light has shined upon his dark pathway, pointing him to a brighter country, and beckoning him thither. under these adverse circumstances, it becomes the duty of the educator to unfold the opening energies of his youthful charge; to mold their plastic character, and to assist their efforts in the recovery of that which was lost, and in the attainment of immortality and eternal life. these are strong views, i am aware; but nothing less would be adequate to the nature and wants of man. in these views i am fully sustained by nearly every writer of any distinction in europe and america. in a volume of prize essays on the expediency and means of elevating the profession of the educator in society, published in london, under the direction of the central society of education, one of the writers, introducing a quotation from an american author, says, i can not resist the pleasure of quoting a few of alcott's brief sentences, by way of conclusion to the present division of the argument. the voice that has been sent athwart the atlantic may find an echo in some british bosoms. these are its words: "education includes all those influences and disciplines by which the faculties of man are unfolded and perfected. it is that agency that takes the helpless and pleading infant from the hands of its creator, and, apprehending its entire nature, tempts it forth, now by austere, and now by kindly influences and disciplines, and thus molds it at last into the image of a perfect man; armed at all points to use the body, nature, and life for its growth and renewal, and to hold dominion over the fluctuating things of the outward. it seeks to realize in the soul the image of the creator. its end is a perfect man. its aim, through every stage of influence, is self-renewal. the body, nature, and life are its instruments and materials. jesus is its worthiest ideal--christianity its purest organ. the gospels are its fullest text-book--genius is its inspiration--holiness its law--temperance its discipline--immortality its reward." says dr. howe, in a lecture before the american institute of instruction, "education should have for its aim the development and greatest possible perfection of the whole nature of man: his moral, intellectual, and physical nature. my _beau ideal_ of human nature would be a being whose intellectual faculties were active and enlightened; whose moral sentiments were dignified and firm; whose physical formation was healthy and beautiful: whoever falls short of this, in one particular--be it in but the least, beauty and vigor of body--falls short of the standard of perfection. to this standard, i believe, man is approaching; and i believe the time will soon be when specimens of it will not be rare." the following thoughts are drawn from a treatise on the "mental illumination and moral improvement of mankind," by that very judicious and celebrated writer, dr. dick, of scotland. the education of human beings, considered in its most extensive sense, comprehends every thing which is requisite to the cultivation and improvement of the faculties bestowed upon them by the creator. it ought to embrace every thing that has a tendency to strengthen and invigorate the animal system; to enlighten and expand the understanding; to regulate the feelings and dispositions of the heart; and, in general, to direct the moral powers in such a manner as to render those who are the subjects of instruction happy in themselves, useful members of society, and qualified for entering upon the scenes and employments of a future and more glorious existence. it is a very common but absurd notion, and one that has been too long acted upon, that the education of youth terminates, or should terminate, about the age of thirteen or fourteen years. hence, in an article on this subject in one of our encyclopedias, education is defined to be "that series of means by which the human understanding is gradually enlightened, between infancy and the period when we consider ourselves as qualified to take a part in active life, and, _ceasing to direct our views to the acquisition of new knowledge or the formation of new habits_, are content to act upon the principles we have already acquired." this definition, though accordant with general opinion and practice, is certainly a very limited and defective view of the subject. in the ordinary mode of our scholastic instruction, education, so far from being _finished_ at the age above stated, can scarcely be said to have _commenced_. the _key_ of knowledge has indeed been put into the hands of the young; but they have never been taught to unlock the gates to the temple of science, to enter within its portals, to contemplate its treasures, and to feast their minds on the entertainments there provided. several moral maxims have been impressed on their memories; but they have seldom been taught to appreciate them in all their bearings, or to reduce them to practice in the various and minute ramifications of their conduct. besides, although every rational means were employed for training the youthful mind till the age above named, no valid reason can be assigned why regular instruction should cease at this early period. man is a progressive being; his faculties are capable of an indefinite expansion; the objects to which these faculties may be directed are boundless and infinitely diversified; he is moving onward to an eternal world, and, in the present state, can never expect to grasp the universal system of created objects, or to rise to the highest point of moral excellence. his tuition, therefore, can not be supposed to terminate at any period of his terrestrial existence; and the course of his life ought to be considered as nothing more than the course of his education. when he closes his eyes in death, and bids a last adieu to every thing here below, he passes into a more permanent and expansive state of existence, where his education will likewise be progressive, and where intelligences of a higher order may be his instructors; and the education he received in this transitory scene, _if it was properly conducted_, will found the ground-work of all his future progressions in knowledge and virtue throughout the succeeding periods of eternity. there are two very glaring defects which appear in most of our treatises on education. in the first place, the moral tuition of youthful minds, and the grand principles of religion which ought to direct their views and conduct, are either entirely overlooked, or treated of in so vague and general a manner, as to induce a belief that they are considered matters of very inferior moment; and, in the business of teaching, and the superintendence of the young, the moral precepts of christianity are seldom made to bear with particularity upon every malignant affection that manifests itself, and every minor delinquency that appears in their conduct, or to direct the benevolent affections how to operate in every given circumstance, and in all their intercourses and associations. in the next place, the idea that man is a being destined to an immortal existence, is almost, if not altogether overlooked. volumes have been written on the best modes of training men for the profession of a soldier, of a naval officer, of a merchant, of a physician, of a lawyer, of a clergyman, and of a statesman; but i know of no treatise on this subject which, in connection with other subordinate aims, has for its grand object to develop that train of instruction which is most appropriate for man considered as a candidate for immortality. this is the more unaccountable, since, in the works alluded to, the eternal destiny of human beings is not called in question, and is sometimes referred to as a general position which can not be denied; yet the means of instruction requisite to guide them in safety to their final destination, and to prepare them for the employments of their everlasting abode, are either overlooked, or referred to in general terms, as if they were unworthy of particular consideration. to admit the doctrine of the immortality of the human soul, and yet to leave out the consideration of it, in a system of mental instruction, is both impious and preposterous, and inconsistent with the principle on which we generally act in other cases, which requires that affairs of the greatest moment should occupy our chief attention. if man is only a transitory inhabitant of this lower world; if he is journeying to another and more important scene of action and enjoyment; if his abode in this higher scene is to be permanent and eternal; and if the course of instruction through which he now passes has an important bearing on his happiness in that state, and his preparation for its enjoyments--if all this be true, then surely every system of education must be glaringly defective which either overlooks or throws into the shade the immortal destination of human beings. if these sentiments be admitted as just, the education of the young becomes a subject of the highest importance. there can not be an object more interesting to science, to religion, and to general christian society, than the forming of those arrangements, and the establishing of those institutions, which are calculated to train the minds of all to knowledge and moral rectitude, and to guide their steps in the path which leads to a blessed immortality. in this process there is no period in human life that aught to be overlooked. we must commence the work of instruction when the first dawning of reason begins to appear, and continue the process through all the succeeding periods of mortal existence, till the spirit takes its flight to the world unknown. while we would bring clearly into view the nature of that education which is needful for man, considered as a candidate for immortality, we would by no means overlook those subordinate aims which have reference to his present condition, and the relations he sustains in this life. the two are so intimately connected, and sustain such a reciprocal relation to each other, that each is best secured by that system of training and in the use of those appliances by which the other is most successfully promoted. in training the rising generation for the proper discharge of their duty to themselves and to one another--as children, and subsequently as parents; as members of society and citizens of free and independent states--we at the same time best promote their interests as candidates for immortality. it is equally true that any system of education which omits to provide for man's highest and enduring wants as an immortal being, in a proportionate degree falls short of providing for his dearest interests and best good in this life. the system of education which we should promote comprehends whatever may have any good influence in developing the mind, by giving direction to thought, or bias the motives of action. to lead infancy in the path of duty, to give direction to an immortal spirit, and to teach it to aspire by well-doing to the rewards of virtue, is the first step of instruction. to youth, education imparts that knowledge whose ways are usefulness and honor, and by due restraint and subordination, makes individual to intwine with public good in a just observance of laws, comprehending the path of duty. to manhood, it "leads him to reflect on the ties that unite him with friends, with kindred, and with the great family of mankind, and makes his bosom glow with social tenderness; it confirms the emotions of sympathy into habitual benevolence, imparts to him the elating delight of rejoicing with those who rejoice, and, if his means are not always adequate to the suggestions of his charity, soothes him at last with the melancholy pleasure of weeping with those who weep." to age, it gives consolation, by remembrance of the past, and anticipation of the future. wisdom is drawn from experience, to give constancy to virtue; and amid all the vicissitudes of life, it enables him to repose unshaken confidence in that goodness which, by the arrangement of the universe, constantly incites him to perpetual progress in excellence and felicity. education is the growth and improvement of the mind. its great object is immediate and prospective happiness. that, then, is the best education which secures to the individual and to the world the greatest amount of permanent happiness, and that the best system which most effectually accomplishes this grand design. how far this is accomplished by the present systems of education is not easily determined, but that it fails in many important considerations can not admit of a doubt. it is feared that, by a great majority, a wrong estimate is made of education. is it not generally considered as a _means_ which must be employed to accomplish _some other purpose_, and consequently made subservient and secondary to the employments of life? is it not considered as being contained in books, and a certain routine of studies, which, when gone through with, is believed to be accomplished, and consequently laid by, to be used as interest may suggest or convenience demand? education comprehends all the improvements of the mind from the cradle to the grave. every man is what education has made him, whether he has drunk deep at the pierian spring, or sipped at the humblest fountain. the philosopher, whose comprehensive mind can scan the universe, and read and interpret the phenomena of nature; whose heaven-aspiring spirit can soar beyond the boundaries of time, indulge in the anticipation of immortality, and discern in the past, the present, and the future the all-pervading spirit of benevolence, is equally the child of education with him whose soul proud science never taught to feel its wants, and know how little may be known. as we have already said, man possesses a material and an immaterial part, mutually dependent on each other. these are so intimately connected, and sustain such a reciprocal relation to each other, that neither can be neglected without detriment to both. the body continually modifies the state of the mind, and the mind ever varies the condition of the body. mental and physical training should, then, go together. that system of instruction which relates exclusively to either, is a partial system, and its fate must be that of a house divided against itself. education has reference to the _whole man_. it seeks to make him a complete creature after his kind, giving to both mind and body all the power, all the beauty, and all the perfection of which they are capable. our systems of education have hitherto fallen far short of this high and only true standard. education, in too many instances, has been confined, almost entirely, to either the physical, intellectual, or moral energies of men. with the greater part, it has been limited to the _physical powers_. no effort has been made to develop any but their bodily strength, animal passions, and instinctive feelings. accordingly, the great mass of mankind are raised but little above inferior animals. they labor hard, and boast of their strength; gratify their passions, and glory in their shame; eat and drink, sleep and wake, supposing to-morrow will be like the present. they are scarcely aware of their rational, intellectual powers, much less of their ever-expanding and never-dying spirits; consequently they feel but imperfectly their responsibility, and are governed principally by the fear of human authority. they have been taught to fear or reverence nothing higher. their education is confined to animal feeling--physical energies. they have no conception of any thing beyond. the whole intellectual world, and all hereafter, is narrowed down to the animal feeling of the present time. how erroneous! how badly educated! and what are we to anticipate when only the physical energies of men generally are thus developed? why, surely, what we are beginning to witness--namely, physical power, trampling on all authority. the education of others is confined principally to _intellect_. not that their physical powers are not necessarily more or less developed, but that their attention is directed almost exclusively to intellectual attainments. from the earliest infancy their minds are taxed, though their bodies are neglected, and their souls forgotten. nor is it unfrequent that their physical strength gives way under the constant pressure of intellectual studies. and thus they are subjected to all the evils of physical inability--the sufferings of living death, in consequence of an erroneous education. besides, they are destitute of all those kinder feelings and sympathetic emotions which alone result from the cultivation of the moral susceptibilities, and become insensible to the more delicate affections of the soul, and elevating hopes of the truly virtuous. they have nothing on which to rest for enjoyment but intellectual attainments. and even these are small compared with what they might have been under a different course of education. yet with what delight are the first developments of intellect discovered by the natural guardian of the infant mind! and with what anxious solicitude are they watched through advancing youth and manhood by those employed in their education. in either stage the development of intellect alone seems worthy of an effort. and yet, when carried to the utmost, what may we expect of one destitute of virtue, and without strength of body? little to benefit himself or others. like columbus, franklin, or la place, he may employ his intellect in useful discoveries; or, like hume, voltaire, and paine, to curse the world. in either case he may lead astray, and should never be trusted implicitly. as the bark on the ocean without compass or chart, that rides out the storm or sinks to the bottom, he may guide us in safety, or ruin us forever! the education of others, again, is confined mostly to their _moral energies_. those of the body are almost forgotten, only as nature forces their development upon the reluctant soul within. and those of intellect are deemed unworthy of a thought, except as necessary in the rudest stages of society; while the moral susceptibilities are cultivated to the utmost. they are brought into action in every situation. they are employed in private, in the social circle, and around the public altar. nor are those employing them ever satisfied. they become fanatics--religious enthusiasts. they have zeal without knowledge, and seem resolved on bringing all to their standard. they enlist in the work all the sympathies of the soul--its tenderest sensibilities and most compassionate feelings. without intellect to guide, and physical strength to sustain them, they sink under moral excitement, and become deranged: a result that might be anticipated from such an education; and one that is often developed, in some of its milder features, among the reformers of the day. nor may you reason with them. reckless of consequences and regardless of authority, they are not to be convinced or persuaded. they are right, and _know_ they are right, for the plain reason that they know nothing else, and will not be diverted from their course. what degradation! who would not shrink from such an education? the development of the moral energies merely? it never qualified men for the highest attainment--the utmost dignity of which they are susceptible. diversified as are the developments of human character, and dissimilar as they may appear to the careless observer, there are peculiar characteristics of men that render them similar to one another, and unlike every other being. in their natures, original susceptibilities, and ultimate destinies, they are alike. they are material, intellectual, and spiritual; animal, rational, and immortal. on these uniform traits of character education should be based. it should develop and strengthen the animal functions; classify and improve the rational faculties; and purify and elevate the spiritual affections in harmonious proportion and perfect symmetry. the animal functions of the human system are to be developed and strengthened by education. hitherto they have been assigned to the province of nature, and deemed foreign to the objects of education. but a more unphilosophical and dangerous theory has seldom been embraced, as the melancholy results abundantly testify. we shall therefore devote a chapter to physical education, which seems to lie at the foundation of the great work of human improvement; for, as we have seen, in the present state the mind can manifest itself only through the body; after which we shall proceed to the consideration of the other grand divisions of the great work of education. chapter ii. the importance of physical education. the influence of the physical frame upon the intellect, morals, and happiness of a human being, is now universally admitted. the extent of this influence will be thought greater in proportion to the accuracy with which the subject is examined. bodily pain forms a large proportion of the amount of human misery. it is, therefore, of the highest importance that a child should grow up sound and healthy in body, with the utmost degree of muscular strength that education can communicate.--lalor. the importance of the department of the great work of education which we now approach has not hitherto been duly appreciated by parents and teachers generally. i shall therefore devote more space to this subject than is usual in works on education, but not more, i trust, than its relative importance demands. physical, intellectual, and moral education are so intimately connected, that, in order duly to appreciate the importance of either, we must not view it separate and alone merely, but in connection with both of the others. and especially is this true of physical education. however much value, then, we may attach to it on its own account, considering man as a corporeal being, we shall have occasion greatly to magnify its importance when we come to direct our attention to his intellectual culture, and still more when we view it in connection with his moral training. then, and not till then, shall we be enabled, in some degree, properly to appreciate the importance of physical education. it has been objected, says dr. combe,[ ] that to teach any one how to take care of his own health, is sure to do harm, by making him constantly think of this and the other precaution, to the utter sacrifice of every noble and generous feeling, and to the certain production of peevishness and discontent. the result, however, he adds, is exactly the reverse; and it would be a singular anomaly in the constitution of the moral world were it otherwise. he who is instructed in, and is familiar with grammar and orthography, writes and spells so easily and accurately as scarcely to be conscious of attending to the rules by which he is guided; while he, on the contrary, who is not instructed in either, and knows not how to arrange his sentences, toils at the task, and sighs at every line. the same principle holds in regard to health. he who is acquainted with the general constitution of the human body, and with the laws which regulate its action, sees at once his true position when exposed to the causes of disease, decides what ought to be done, and thereafter feels himself at liberty to devote his undivided attention to the calls of higher duties. but it is far otherwise with the person who is destitute of this information. uncertain of the nature and extent of the danger, he knows not to which hand to turn, and either lives in the fear of mortal disease, or, in his ignorance, resorts to irrational and hurtful precautions, to the certain neglect of those which he ought to use. it is ignorance, therefore, and not knowledge, which renders an individual full of fancies and apprehensions, and robs him of his usefulness. it would be a stigma on the creator's wisdom if true knowledge weakened the understanding, and led to injurious results. those who have had the most extensive opportunities of forming an opinion on this subject from extensive experience, bear unequivocal testimony to the advantages which knowledge confers in saving health and life, time and anxiety. [ ] principles of physiology applied to the preservation of health. if, indeed, ignorance were itself a preventive of the danger, or could provide a remedy when it approached, then it might well be said that "ignorance is bliss;" but as it gives only the kind of security which shutting the eyes affords against the dangers of a precipice, and consequently leaves its victim doubly exposed, it is high time to renounce its protection, and to seek those of a more powerful and beneficent ally. every medical man can testify that, natural character and other circumstances being alike, those whose knowledge is the most limited are the fullest of whims and fancies; the most credulous respecting the efficacy of every senseless and preposterous remedy; the most impatient of restraint, and the most discontented at suffering. if any of my readers be still doubtful of the propriety or safety of communicating physiological knowledge to the public at large, continues the author from whom we last quoted, and think that ignorance is in all circumstances to be preferred, i would beg leave to ask him whether it was knowledge or ignorance which induced the poorer classes in every country of asia and europe to attempt to protect themselves from cholera by committing ravages on the medical attendants of the sick, under the plea of their having poisoned the public fountains? and whether it was ignorance or knowledge which prompted the more rational part of the community to seek safety in increased attention to proper food, warmth, cleanliness, and clothing? in both cases, the desire of safety and sense of danger were the same, but the modes resorted to by each were as different in kind as in result, the efficacy of the one having formed a glaring contrast to the failure of the other. dr. southwood smith, the able author of a volume entitled "the philosophy of health," says, the obvious and peculiar advantages of this kind of knowledge are, that it would enable its possessor to take a more rational care of his health; to perceive why certain circumstances are beneficial or injurious; to understand, in some degree, the nature of disease, and the operation as well of the agents which produce it as of those which counteract it; to observe the first beginnings of deranged function in his own person; to give to his physician a more intelligible account of his train of morbid sensations, as they arise; and, above all, to co-operate with him in removing the morbid state on which they depend, instead of defeating, as is now, through ignorance, constantly the case, the best concerted plans for the renovation of health. it would likewise lay the foundation for the attainment of a more just, accurate, and practical knowledge of our _intellectual_ and _moral nature_. there is a _physiology_ of the _mind_ as well as of the _body_, and both are so intimately united that neither can be well understood without the study of the other. the physiology of man comprehends both. were even what is already known of this science and what might be easily communicated made a part of general education, how many evils would be avoided! how much light would be let in upon the understanding! and how many aids would be afforded to the acquisition of a sound body and a vigorous mind! prerequisites more important than are commonly supposed to the attainment of wisdom and the practice of virtue. human physiology, says dr. combe, in his admirable treatise on that subject, from which i have already quoted, is as important in its practical consequences as it is attractive to rational curiosity. in its widest sense, it comprehends an exposition of the functions of the various organs of which the human frame is composed; of the mechanism by which they are carried on; of their relations to each other, or the means of improving their development and action; of the purposes to which they ought severally to be directed, and of the manner in which exercise ought to be conducted, so as to secure for the organ the best health, and for the function the highest efficacy. a true system of physiology comes thus to be the proper basis, not only of a sound _physical_, but of a sound _moral_ and _intellectual_ education, and of a rational hygiene; or, in other words, it is the basis of every thing having for its object the physical and mental health and improvement of man; for, so long as life lasts, the mental and moral powers with which he is endowed manifest themselves through the medium of organization, and no plan which he can devise for their cultivation, that is not in harmony with the laws which regulate that organization, can possibly be successful. let it not be said that knowledge of this description is superfluous to the unprofessional reader; for society groans under the load of suffering inflicted by causes susceptible of removal, but left in operation in consequence of our unacquaintance with our own structure, and of the relation of different parts of the system to each other and to external objects. every medical man must have felt and lamented the ignorance so generally prevalent in regard to the simplest functions of the animal system, and the consequent absence of the judicious co-operation of friends in the care and cure of the sick. from ignorance of the commonest facts in physiology, or from want of ability to appreciate their importance, men of much good sense in every other respect not only subject themselves unwittingly to the active causes of disease, but give their sanction to laws and practices destructive equally to life and to morality, and which, if they saw them in their true light, they would shrink from countenancing in the slightest degree. were the intelligent classes of society better acquainted with the functions of the human body and the laws by which they are regulated, continues this judicious writer, the sources of much suffering would be dried up, and the happiness of the community at large would be essentially promoted. medical men would no longer be consulted so exclusively for the cure of disease, but would be called upon to advise regarding the best means of strengthening the constitution, from an early period, against any accidental or hereditary susceptibility which might be ascertained to exist. more attention would be paid to the _preservation_ of health than is at present practicable, and the medical man would then be able to advise with increased effect, because he would be proportionally well understood, and his counsel, in so far, at least, as it was based on accurate observation and a right application of principles, would be perceived to be, not a mere human opinion, but, in reality, an _exposition of the will and intentions of a beneficent creator_, and would therefore be felt as carrying with it an _authority_ to which, as the mere dictum of a fallible fellow-creature, it could never be considered as entitled. it is true that, as yet, medicine has been turned to little account in the way of directly promoting the physical and mental welfare of man. but the day is, perhaps, not far distant, when, in consequence of the improvements both in professional and general education now in progress, a degree of interest will be attached to this application of its doctrines far surpassing what those who have not reflected on the subject will be able to imagine as justly belonging to it, but by no means exceeding that which it truly deserves. every person should be acquainted with the organization, structure, and functions of his own body--the house in which he lives: he should know the conditions of health, and the causes of the numerous diseases that flesh is heir to, in order to avoid them, prolong his life, and multiply his means of usefulness. if these things are not otherwise learned, they should be taught--the elements of them at least--in our primary schools. this instruction would come, perhaps, most appropriately from the members of the medical profession. but either society generally, or physicians themselves, or both, have mistaken the true sphere of a physician's usefulness, and what ought to constitute the grand object of his profession, namely, the _prevention of disease_, and the _general improvement of the health_, and not the curing of diseases merely. the physician, like the clergyman in his parish, should receive a salary; and he should be occupied, chiefly, in teaching the laws of health to his employers; in imparting to them instruction in relation to the means of avoiding the diseases to which they are more particularly exposed, and in laying before them such information as shall be needful, in order to the highest improvement of their physical organization, and the transmission to posterity of unimpaired constitutions. this he may do by public lectures, at suitable seasons of the year; and by visiting from house to house, and imparting such information as may be particularly needed. the physician should not allow any of his employers blindly to disregard the laws of health, or, knowing them, to violate them unreproved. _he_ should be accounted the _best physician_, other things being equal, whose employers have the _least sickness_, and uniformly enjoy the _best health_. when the relation existing between the members of the medical profession and the well-being of society generally comes to be better understood, and physicians are employed in accordance with the principles just stated, their greatest usefulness to the communities they serve will be found to consist in teaching well men and women how to retain and improve their health, and rear a healthy offspring, and not in partially curing diseased persons who are constantly violating the laws of health. these views will doubtless be new to many of my readers, and seem to them very strange! but let me inquire of such what they would think of the clergyman who should neglect to instruct his parishioners in the ennobling doctrines of morality and religion, and should suffer them to go on in sin unrebuked, until they become a burden to themselves? who should wait until his counsels were solicited before he sounds the note of alarm, and points the guilty sinner to "the lamb of god which taketh away the sin of the world?" and who should confine his labors almost entirely to _condemned criminals_? such conduct on the part of clergymen would doubtless be regarded by these very persons as passing strange! the course commonly pursued in the employment of physicians is equally unphilosophical, and floods society with a legion of evils--physical and intellectual, social and moral--three fourths of which might be avoided, by the proper exercise of the medical profession, in _one generation_; and ultimately, nineteen twentieths, if not ninety-nine one hundredths of them. as i have already said, this instruction would come, perhaps, most appropriately from the members of the medical profession. but if these things are not taught elsewhere, i repeat it, they should be taught--the elements of them at least--in our primary schools. i can not better enforce the importance of physical education than by quoting from a lecture "on the education of the blind," by one of the most distinguished practical educators[ ] in this country. "that the proportion of the blind to the whole population might be diminished by wise social regulations, and by the dissemination of knowledge of the organic laws of man, there is not a doubt; but whether the time has come, or ever will come, is another question. at any rate, to so enlightened a body[ ] as i have the honor of addressing, suggestions of methods by which the extent of blindness may be limited will neither be misapplied, nor liable to offend a mawkish sensibility. that the blindness of a large proportion of society is a social evil will not be denied, nor will the right which society has to diminish that proportion be questioned. but how? in a very simple way; by preventing the transmission of an hereditary blindness to another generation; by preventing the marriage of those who are congenitally blind, or who have lost their sight by reason of hereditary weakness of the visual organs, which disqualifies them to resist the slightest inflammation or injury in childhood. [ ] dr. samuel g. howe, director of the new england institution for the education of the blind, . [ ] the american institute of instruction. "i am aware that many people would condemn this proposition as cruel, because it might add to the sadness of the sufferers; and that the whole seven thousand five hundred blind in this country would rise up and scout it, as barbarous and unnatural; for i have experienced the effects of contradiction to the wills of individual blind persons in this respect. but my rule is, the good of the community before that of the individual; the good of the race before that of the community. to give you an instance: the city of boston, with a population of eighty thousand, is represented in the institution for the blind by two blind children only; and i know of but four in the whole population; while andover, with but five thousand, is fully and ably represented by seven;[ ] and it has three more growing up. [ ] this makes the ratio of representation in the institution from andover _fifty six times greater_ than from the city of boston. "now how is this? why, the blind of andover are mostly from a common stock; three of them are born of one mother, who has had four blind children. another of the pupils is cousin, in the first degree, to these three; and two other pupils are cousins in a remote degree. then, from other places, there are two brothers, who have a third at home. there is one blind girl, who has two blind sisters at home. then there are two pairs of sisters. "in the immediate vicinity of boston, i know of a family in which blindness is hereditary; the last generation there were five. of these five one is married, and has four children, not one of whom can see well enough to read; and if the others marry, they may increase the number to twelve or twenty. "now apply this state of things to the whole country, and have you any difficulty in conceiving how it happens that there are seven thousand five hundred blind in the united states? and can you doubt whether or not this great proportion of blind to the whole community might not be considerably diminished, if men and women understood the organic laws of their nature? understood that, very often, blindness is the punishment following an infringement of the natural laws of god; and if they could be made to act upon the holy christian principles, that we should deny ourselves any individual gratification, any selfish desire, that may result in evil to the whole community? "i would that every individual whom i have the honor to address would assist in the education of the blind, so far as to give them just and christian views of this subject. i would that all should work for society; not for society to-day alone, but for the society of future ages; not in any one narrow, partial way, but upon a broad scale, and in every way in which they can be useful. if a person congenitally blind, or strongly predisposed to become so, or one who marries a person so born or so disposed, has blind offspring in consequence of it, i ask, is he not as responsible, in a moral point of view, for the infirmity of his children as though he had put out their eyes with his own hands? "you may suppose, perhaps, that the infirmity of blindness would incapacitate sufferers from winning the affections of seeing persons; and that, with respect to two blind persons, the sense of incapacity to support a family would prevent them from uniting themselves. in the first place, i answer, that seeing people do no better than the blind. even a blind man may perceive that many marriages are mere matters of course, resulting from juxtaposition of parties; and rarely matters where the purer affections and higher moral sentiments are consulted. and, in the second place, that incapacity of supporting a family will not weigh a feather in the balance with desire, unless the intellectual and moral nature is enlightened and cultivated. do we not see, every day, cases of misery entailed upon whole families, because one of the parties had overlooked or disregarded _moral infirmity_, which ought to have been a greater objection than any _physical defect_--than even blindness or deafness? "but no process of reasoning is required, for there stand the facts. the blind not only seek for partners in life, but are sometimes sought by seeing persons; and numerous instances have occurred within my knowledge. it is true, that despair of success in any other quarter, or an equally unworthy motive, may induce some to seek for partners among the blind, or the blind to unite with the blind; but still, there is the evil. "my observation induces me to think that the blind, far more than seeing persons, are fond of social relations, and desirous of family endearments. a moment's thought would induce one to conclude that this would naturally be the case; a moment's observation convinces one that it is so. now i have found among them some of the most pious, intelligent, and disinterested beings i ever knew; but hardly more than one who was prepared to forego the enjoyments of domestic relations. and how can we expect them to be so, more than seeing people? the fact is, but very few persons in the community give any attention to the laws of their organic nature, and the tendency to hereditary transmission of infirmities. very few consider that they owe more to society than to their individual selves; that if we are to love our neighbor _as ourself_, we must, of course, love _all_ our neighbors, collectively, more than the single unit which each one calls i. "i would that considerations of this kind had more weight with the community generally. i would that the subject were more attended to, and that the violation of the laws of our organic nature were less frequent in our country. there is one great and crying evil in our system of education; it is, that but part of man's nature is educated, and that our colleges and schools doom young men for years to an uninterrupted and severe exercise of the intellectual faculties, to the comparative neglect of their moral, and still more of their physical nature. nay, not only do they _neglect_ their physical nature--they abuse it; they sin against themselves and against god; and though they sin in ignorance, they do not escape the penalties of his violated laws. hence you see them pale, and wan, and feeble; hence you find them acknowledging, when too late, the effects of severe application. but do they acknowledge it humbly and repentingly, as with a consciousness of sin? no, they often do it with a secret exultation, with a lurking feeling that you will say or think, 'poor fellow, his mind is too much for his body!' nonsense! his mind is too weak; his knowledge too limited; he is an imperfect man; he knows not his own nature. but if he has no conscientiousness, no scruple about impairing his own health and sowing the seeds of disease, he has less about entailing them upon others. and a consumptive young man or woman--the son or daughter of consumptive parents--hesitates not to spread the evil in society, and entail puny faces, weakness, pain, and early death upon several individuals, and punish their children for their own sins. "is this picture too high-colored? alas! no. and if i showed you satisfactorily that sin against the organic laws caused so great a proportion of blindness, how much more readily will you grant that the same sin gives to so many of our population the narrow chest, the hectic flush, the hollow cough, which makes the _victim doomed_, by his _parent_, to consumption and early death! do you not see, every sabbath, at church, the young man or woman, upon whose fair and delicate structure the peculiar impress of the early doomed is stamped? and as a slight but hollow cough comes upon your ear, does it not recall the death-knell which rang in the same sad note before to the father or mother? who of you has not followed some young friend to his long resting-place, and found that the grass had not grown rank upon the grave of his brother? that the row of white marbles, beneath which slept his parents and sisters, were yet glistering in freshness, and that the letters which told their names and their early death seemed clear as if cut but yesterday? "they tell us that physical education is attended to in this country; and yet, where is the teacher, where is the clergyman even, who dares to step forth in these cases, and say to those who are _doomed_, you must not and shall not marry? and where are the young men and women who would listen to them if they did? it is not that they are wanting in conscientiousness; they may be conscientious and disinterested; but they do not know that they are doing wrong, because they are not acquainted with the organic laws of their nature. all that is done in schools or colleges toward physical education is the mere strengthening of the muscular system by muscular exercise; but this is not half enough. these remarks may be deemed irrelevant to my subject, but they can not be lost to an audience whose highest interest is the education of man; and if i am mistaken in supposing that little attention has been paid to the subject, its importance will guaranty its repetition." before dismissing this subject, i will introduce two additional quotations from american authors, whose opinions are received by the medical profession in this country not only, but throughout europe. in both instances, i copy from works published in great britain, into which the opinions of these american writers have been quoted. in regard to hereditary transmission, dr. caldwell observes: "every constitutional quality, whether good or bad, may descend, by inheritance, from parent to child. and a long-continued habit of drunkenness becomes as essentially constitutional as a predisposition to gout or pulmonary consumption. this increases, in a manifold degree, the responsibility of parents in relation to temperance. by habits of intemperance, they not only degrade and ruin _themselves_, but transmit the elements of like degradation and ruin to their posterity. this is no visionary conjecture, the fruit of a favorite and long-cherished theory. it is a settled belief resulting from observation--an inference derived from innumerable facts. in hundreds and thousands of instances, parents, having had children born to them while their habits were temperate, have become afterward intemperate, and had other children subsequently born. in such cases, it is a matter of notoriety that the younger children have become addicted to the practice of intoxication much more frequently than the older, in the proportion of five to one. let me not be told that this is owing to the younger children being neglected, and having corrupt and seducing examples constantly before them. the same neglects and profligate examples have been extended to all, yet all have not been equally injured by them. the children of the earlier births have escaped, while those of the subsequent ones have suffered. the reason is plain. the latter children had a deeper animal taint than the former."--_transylvania journal._ physiologists in general coincide in the belief that a vigorous and healthy physical and mental constitution in the parents communicates existence in the most perfect state to their offspring, while impaired constitutions, from whatever cause, are transmitted to posterity. in this sense, all who are competent to judge are agreed that the giver of life is a jealous god, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate him or violate his laws. strictly speaking, it is not _disease_ which is transmitted, but organs of such imperfect structure that they are unable to perform their functions properly, and so weak as to be easily put into a morbid state or abnormal condition by causes which unimpaired organs are able to resist. my last quotation on this point is from a lecture delivered by dr. warren before the american institute of instruction, copied into the "schoolmaster," a work published in london under the superintendence of the society for the diffusion of useful knowledge: "let me conclude by entreating your attention to a revision of the existing plans of education in what relates to the preservation of health. too much of the time of the better educated part of young persons is, in my humble opinion, devoted to literary pursuits and sedentary occupations, and too little to the acquisition of the corporeal powers indispensable to make the former practically useful. if the present system does not undergo some change, i much apprehend we shall see a degenerate and sinking race, such as came to exist among the higher classes in france before the revolution, and such as now deforms a large part of the noblest families in spain;[ ] but if the spirit of improvement, so happily awakened, continues--as i trust it will--to animate those concerned in the formation of the young members of society, we shall soon be able, i doubt not, to exhibit an active, beautiful, and wise generation, of which the age may be proud." [ ] i am informed by a lady who passed a long time at the spanish court, in a distinguished situation, that the grandees have deteriorated by their habits of living, and the restriction of intermarriages to their own rank, to a race of dwarfs; and, though fine persons are sometimes seen among them, they, when assembled at court, appear to be a group of manikins. chapter iii. physical education. the laws of health. if man is ever to be elevated to the highest and happiest condition which his nature will permit, it must be, in no small degree, by the improvement--i might say, the redemption--of his physical powers. but knowledge on any subject must precede improvement.--alcott. physical and moral health are as nearly related as the body and the soul.--hufeland's _art of prolonging life_. if the reader is persuaded that the views presented in the last chapter on the importance of physical education are truthful--and they are concurred in by physiologists generally--he will naturally desire to become acquainted with the _laws of health_, that, by yielding obedience to them, he may improve his physical condition, and most successfully promote his intellectual and moral well-being. i might, then, here refer to some of the many excellent treatises on this subject; but i shall probably better accomplish the object for which this work has been undertaken by presenting, within as narrow limits as practicable, a summary of these laws. in every department of nature, _waste_ is invariably the result of _action_. in mechanics, we seek to reduce the waste consequent upon action to the lowest possible degree; but to prevent it entirely is beyond the power of man. every breath of wind that passes over the surface of the earth, modifies the bodies with which it comes in contact. the great toe of the bronze statue of saint peter at rome has been reduced, it is said, to less than half its original size by the successive kisses of the faithful. in _dead_ or _inanimate_ matter, the destructive influence of action is constantly forced upon our attention by every thing passing around us, and so much human ingenuity is exercised to counteract its effects that no reflecting person will dispute the universality of its operation. but when we observe shrubs and trees waving in the wind, and animals undergoing violent exertion, year after year, and continuing to increase in size, we may be inclined, on a superficial view, to regard _living_ bodies as constituting an exception to this rule. on more careful examination, however, it will appear that waste goes on in living bodies not only without intermission, but with a rapidity immeasurably beyond that which occurs in inanimate objects. in the vegetable world, for instance, every leaf of a tree is incessantly pouring out some of its fluids, and every flower forming its own fruit and seed, speedily to be separated from, and lost to its parent stem; thus causing in a few months an extent of waste many hundred times greater than what occurs in the same lapse of time after the tree is cut down, and all its living operations are at a close. the same thing holds true in the animal kingdom: so long as life continues, a copious exhalation from the skin, the lungs, the bowels, and the kidneys goes on without a moment's intermission, and not a movement can be performed which does not in some degree increase the circulation, and add to the general waste. in this way, during violent exertion, several ounces of the fluids of the body are sometimes thrown out by perspiration in a very few minutes; whereas, after life is extinguished, all the excretions cease, and waste is limited to that which results from ordinary chemical decomposition.[ ] [ ] for the views presented in the preceding paragraph (as also in several that follow) i would acknowledge my indebtedness to dr. andrew combe's treatise on the "physiology of digestion." from the "principles of physiology," by the same author, i have already quoted. these admirable works will prove an invaluable treasure to persons desirous of becoming acquainted with the laws of health. so far, then, the law that waste is attendant on action applies to both dead and living bodies; but beyond this point a remarkable difference between them presents itself. in the physical or inanimate world, what is once lost or worn away _is lost forever_; but _living_ bodies, whether vegetable or animal, possess the distinguishing characteristic of being able to _repair their own waste_ and add to their own substance. the possession of such a power is essential to their existence. but there is a wide difference between them in other respects. in surveying the respective modes of existence of vegetables and of animals, we perceive the fixity of position of the one, and the free locomotive power of the other. the vegetable grows, flourishes, and dies, fixed to the same spot of earth from which it sprang. however much external circumstances change around it, it must remain and submit to their influence. at all hours and at all seasons, it is at home, and in direct communication with the soil from which its nourishment is extracted. but it is otherwise with animals: these not only enjoy the privilege of locomotion, but are compelled to use it, and often to go a distance in search of food and shelter. the necessity for a constant change of place being imposed on them, a different arrangement became indispensable for their nutrition. the method which the creator has provided is not less admirable than simple. to enable animals to move about, and at the same time to maintain a connection with their food, they are provided with a stomach. in this receptacle they can store up a supply of materials from which sustenance may be gradually elaborated during a period of time proportioned to their necessities and mode of life. animals thus _carry with them_ nourishment adequate to their wants; and the small nutritive vessels imbibe their food from the internal surface of the stomach and bowels, where it is stored up, just as the roots or nutritive vessels of vegetables do from the soil in which they grow. the possession of a stomach or receptacle for food is accordingly a distinguishing characteristic of the animal system. the sole objects of nutrition being to repair waste and to admit of growth, the creator has so arranged that within certain limits it is always most vigorous when growth or waste proceeds with the greatest rapidity. even in vegetables this provision is distinctly observable. it is also strikingly apparent in animals. whenever growth is proceeding rapidly, or the animal is undergoing much exertion and expenditure of material, an increased quantity of food is invariably required. on the other hand, where no new substance is forming, and where, from bodily inactivity, little loss is sustained, a comparatively small supply will suffice. in endowing animals with the sense of _appetite_, including the sensation of hunger and thirst, the creator has effectually provided against any inconvenience which might otherwise exist, and given to them a guide in relation to both the quality and quantity of food needful for them, and the times of partaking of it, with that beneficence which distinguishes all his works. he has not only provided an effectual safeguard in the sensations of hunger and thirst, but he has attached to their regulated indulgence a degree of pleasure which never fails to insure attention to their demands, and which, in highly-civilized communities, is apt to lead to excessive gratification. their end is manifestly to proclaim that nourishment is required for the support of the system. when the body is very actively exercised, and a good deal of waste is effected by perspiration and exhalation from the lungs, the appetite becomes keener, and more urgent for immediate gratification; and if it is indulged, we eat with a relish unknown on other occasions, and afterward experience a sensation of internal comfort pervading the frame, as if every individual part of the body were imbued with a feeling of contentment and satisfaction; the very opposite of the restless discomfort and depression which come upon us, and extend over the whole system, when appetite is disappointed. there is, in short, an obvious and active sympathy between the condition and bearing of the stomach, and those of every part of the animal frame; in virtue of which, hunger is felt very keenly when the general system stands in urgent need of repair, and very moderately when no waste has been suffered. we have seen that _waste_ is every where attendant upon _action_, and that the object of nutrition is to repair waste and admit of growth. we come now to consider the _process of digestion_. all articles used for food necessarily undergo several changes before they are fitted to constitute a part of the body. in the process of digestion, four different changes should be noticed. more might be specified. . mastication.--the first step in the preparation of food for imparting nourishment to the system consists in proper mastication, or chewing. food should be thoroughly masticated before it is taken into the stomach. this is necessary in order to break it up and reduce it to a sufficient degree of fineness for the efficient action of the gastric juice. besides, the action of chewing and the presence of nutrient food constitute a healthful stimulus to the salivary glands, situated in the mouth. by this means, also, the food not only becomes well masticated, but has blended with it a proper amount of saliva, upon both of which conditions the healthy action of the stomach depends. we have here another illustration of the beneficence of the creator, who has kindly so arranged that the very act of mastication gratifies taste, the mouth being the seat of this sensation. but if we disregard these benevolent laws, and introduce unmasticated food into the stomach, the gastric juice can act only upon its surface, and changes of a purely chemical nature frequently commence in food thus swallowed before digestion can take place. hence frequently arise--and especially in children and persons of delicate constitution--pains, nausea, and acidity, consequent on the continued presence of undigested aliment in the stomach. . chymification.--as soon as food has been thoroughly masticated and impregnated with saliva, it is ready for transmission to the stomach. this interesting part of the process of digestion, called deglutition or swallowing, is most easily and pleasantly performed, when the alimentary morsel has been well masticated and properly softened, not by drink, which should never be taken at this time, but by saliva. when the food reaches the stomach, it is converted into a soft, pulpy mass, called _chyme_; and the process by which this change is effected is called _chymification_. this is the second principal step in digestion, and is effected immediately by the action of the _gastric juice_. this powerful solvent is secreted by the gastric glands, which are excited to action by the presence of food in the stomach. in health, the gastric secretion always bears a direct relation to the quantity of aliment required by the system. if too much food is taken into the stomach, indigestion is sure to follow, for the sufficient reason that the gastric juice is unable to dissolve it. this is true even when food has been well masticated; but it becomes strikingly apparent when a full meal has been hastily swallowed, both mastication and insalivation having been imperfectly performed. the time usually occupied in the process of chymification, when food has been properly masticated, varies from _three to four hours_. digestion is sometimes effected in less time, as in the case of rice, and pigs' feet soused; but it more commonly requires a longer period, as in the case of salt pork and beef, and many other articles of food, both animal and vegetable. by the alternate contraction and relaxation of the muscular coat of the stomach, which is excited to action by the presence of food, a kind of churning motion is communicated to its contents that greatly promotes digestion; for by this means every portion of food in turn is brought in contact with the gastric juice as it is discharged from the internal surface of the stomach. this motion continues until the contents of the stomach are converted into chyme, and conveyed into the first intestine, where they undergo another important change. . chylification.--as fast as chyme is formed, it is expelled by the contractile power of the stomach into the _duodenum_, or first intestine. it there meets with the _bile_ from the liver, and with the pancreatic juice. by the action of these agents, the chyme is converted into two distinct portions: a milky white fluid, called _chyle_, and a thick yellow residue. this process is called _chylification_, or _chyle-making_. the chyle is then taken up by the absorbent vessels, which are extensively ramified over the inner membrane or lining of the bowels. from the white color of the contents of these vessels, they have been named _lacteals_ or _milk-bearers_, from _lac_, which signifies milk. these lacteals ultimately converge into one trunk, called the _thoracic duct_, which terminates in the great vein under the clavicle or collar bone, hence called the _subclavian_ vein, just before that vein reaches the right side of the heart. here the chyle is poured into the general current of the venous blood, and, mingling with it, is exposed to the action of the air in the lungs during respiration. by this process, both the chyle and the venous blood are converted into red, arterial, or nutritive blood, which is afterward distributed by the heart through the arteries, to supply nourishment and support to every part of the body. the change which takes place in the lungs is called _sanguification_, or _blood-making_. the chyle is not prepared to impart nourishment to the system until this change takes place. _respiration_, then, is, in reality, _the completion of digestion_. this interesting and vital part of the process of digestion will be considered more fully in the following chapter. before passing from this part of the subject, a few remarks of a more general nature seem called for. the _nerves of the stomach_ have a direct relation to _undigested_ but _digestible_ substances. when any body that can not be digested is introduced into the stomach, distinct uneasiness is speedily excited, and an effort is soon made to expel it, either upward by the mouth or downward by the bowels. it is in this way, says dr. combe, that bile in the stomach excites nausea, and that tartar emetic produces vomiting. the _nerves of the bowels_, on the other hand, are constituted in relation to _digested_ food; and, consequently, when any thing escapes into them from the stomach in an _undigested_ state, it becomes a source of irritative excitement. this accounts for the cholic pains and bowel-complaints which so commonly attend the passage through the intestinal canal of such indigestible substances as fat, husks of fruits, berries, and cherry-stones. the process of digestion, which commences in the stomach, is completed in the intestines. physiologists have hence sometimes called the former part of the process, or chymification, by the more simple term _stomach digestion_; and the latter, or chylification, has been termed _intestinal digestion_. the bowels have distinct coats corresponding with those of the stomach. by the alternate contraction and relaxation of the muscular coat, their contents are propelled in a downward direction, somewhat as motion is propagated from one end of a worm to the other. it has hence been called vermicular, or _wormlike motion_. some medicines have the power of _inverting_ the order of the muscular contractions. emetics operate in this manner to produce vomiting. other medicines, again, excite the _natural_ action to a higher degree, and induce a cathartic action of the bowels. when medicines become necessary to obviate that kind of costiveness which arises from imperfect intestinal contraction, physicians usually administer rhubarb, aloes, and similar laxatives, combined with tonics. but when the muscular coat of the bowels is kept in a healthy condition by a natural mode of life, and is aided by the action of the abdominal muscles, it rarely becomes necessary to administer laxative medicines. the inner or mucous coat of the stomach and bowels is generally regarded by physiologists as a continuation of the skin. they greatly resemble each other in structure, and they are well known to sympathize with each other. eruptions of the skin are very generally the result of disorders of the digestive organs. on the other hand, bowel complaints are frequently produced by a chill on the surface. the mucous coat and the skin are both charged with the double function of _excretion_ and _absorption_. by the exercise of the _former_ function, much of the waste matter of the system, requiring to be removed, is thrown into the intestines, and, mingling with the indigestible portion of the food, forms the common excrement; while by the exercise of the _latter_ function the nutritive portion of their contents is taken up, and, as we have seen, passes into the general circulation, and contributes either to promote growth or to repair waste. . evacuation.--this is the fourth and last principal step in the process of digestion. after the chyle is separated from the chyme and passes into the circulation, the indigestible and refuse portion of the food, which is incapable of nourishing the system, passes off through the intestinal canal. in its course its bulk is considerably increased by the excretion of waste matter which has served its purposes in the system, and which, mingling with the innutritious and refuse part of the food, is thrown out of the body in the form of excrement. if the contents of the bowels are too long retained, uneasiness is produced. hurtful matter, also, which should pass off by evacuation, is reabsorbed, passes again into the general circulation, and is ultimately thrown out of the system either by the lungs or through the pores of the skin. this part of the process of digestion is _very important_, for it is impossible to enjoy good health while this function is imperfectly performed. to secure full and natural action in the intestinal canal, several principal conditions are necessary. these are, first, well-digested chyme and chyle; second, a due quantity and quality of secretions from the mucous or lining membrane of the bowels; third, a free and full contractile power of the muscular coat, and the unrestrained action of the abdominal and respiratory muscles; and, finally, a due nervous sensibility to receive impressions and communicate the necessary stimulus. the contractile power of the muscular coat, and the free passage of the intestinal contents from the stomach downward, are greatly aided by the constant but gentle agitation which the whole digestive apparatus receives during the act of breathing, and from exercise of every description. by free and deep inhalations of air into the lungs, the diaphragm is depressed and the bowels are pushed down. but when the air is thrown out from the lungs, the diaphragm rises into the chest, and the bowels follow, being pressed upward by the contractile power of the abdominal muscles. during exercise, breathing is deeper and more free, which gives additional pressure to the bowels from above. the abdominal muscular contraction is also, in turn, more vigorous and extensive, and thus the motion is returned from below. persons that take little or no exercise, or who allow the chest and bowels to be confined by tight clothing, lose this natural stimulus, and frequently become subjects of immense suffering from habits of costiveness. these should be removed if possible, and they generally can be by a proper course of discipline. this should have reference to both diet and exercise. such articles of food should be used as tend to keep open the bowels. this should be combined with the free exercise of the lungs and the abdominal muscles. in addition to these, there should be a determination to secure a natural evacuation of the bowels at least once a day. this is regarded by physiologists generally as essential to health. efforts should be continued until the habit is established. some definite period should be fixed upon for this purpose. soon after breakfast is, on many accounts, generally preferable. time for meals.--before passing from the subject of digestion, i will submit a few thoughts in relation to the times for eating. it has already been observed that _three or four hours_ are generally necessary for the digestion of a simple meal. usually, perhaps, a greater length of time is required. it is also an established doctrine, based upon the results of careful examination and experiment, that _the stomach requires an interval of rest_, after the process of digestion is finished, to enable it to recover its tone before it can again enter upon the vigorous performance of its function. as a general rule, then, _five or six hours should elapse between meals_. if the mode of life is indolent, a greater time is required; if active, less time will suffice. where the usages of society will allow the principal meal to be taken near the middle of the day, the following time for meals is approved by physiologists generally: breakfast at o'clock, dinner at half past , and tea at . luncheons and late suppers should be avoided; for the former will always be found to interfere with the healthful performance of the function of digestion, and the latter will induce restlessness, unpleasant dreams, and pain in the head. "a late supper," says the author of the philosophy of health, "generally occasions deranged and disturbed sleep; there is an effort on the part of the nerves to be quiet, while the burdened stomach makes an effort to call them into action, and between these two contending efforts there is disturbance--a sort of gastric riot--during the whole night. this disturbance has sometimes terminated in a fit of apoplexy and in death." the skin.--this membranous covering, which is spread over the surface of the body to shield the parts beneath, serves also as an excreting and secreting organ. by the great supply of blood which it receives, it is admirably fitted for this purpose. the whole animal system, as we have seen, is in a state of transition, decay and renovation constantly succeeding each other. while the stomach and alimentary canal take in new materials, the skin forms one of the principal outlets by which particles that are useless to the system are thrown out of the body. every one knows that the skin perspires, and that checked perspiration is a powerful cause of disease and death; but few have any just notion of the extent and influence of this exhalation. when the body is overheated by exercise, a copious sweat breaks out, which, by evaporation, carries off the excess of heat, and produces an agreeable feeling of coolness and refreshment. the sagacity of franklin led him to the first discovery of the use of perspiration in reducing the heat of the body, and to point out the analogy subsisting between this process and that of the evaporation of water from a rough porous surface, so constantly resorted to in the east and west indies, and in other warm countries, as an efficacious means of reducing the temperature of the air in rooms, and of wine and other drinks, much below that of the surrounding atmosphere. this is the higher and more obvious degree of the function of exhalation. but in the ordinary state of the system, the skin is constantly giving out a large quantity of waste materials by what is called _insensible perspiration_; a process which is of great importance to the preservation of health, and which is called _insensible_, because the exhalation, being in the form of vapor, and carried off by the surrounding air, is invisible to the eye. but its presence may often be made manifest, even to the sight, by the near approach of a dry cool mirror, on the surface of which it will soon be condensed so as to become visible. it is this which causes so copious deposits upon the windows of a crowded school-room in cold weather. a portion of these exhalations, however, proceed from the lungs. there is an experiment that may be easily tried, which affords conclusive evidence that the amount of insensible perspiration is much greater than it is ordinarily supposed to be. take a dry glass jar, with a neck three or four inches in diameter, and thrust the hand and a part of the fore-arm into it, closing the space in the neck about the arm with a handkerchief. after the lapse of a few minutes, it will be seen, by drawing the fingers across the inside of the jar, that the insensible perspiration even from the hand is very considerable. many attempts have been made to estimate accurately the amount of exhaled matter carried off through the skin; but many difficulties stand in the way of obtaining precise results. there is a great difference in different constitutions, and even in the same person at different times, in consequence of which we must be satisfied with an approximation to the truth. although the precise amount of perspiration can not be ascertained, it is generally agreed that the cutaneous exhalation is greater than the united excretions of both bowels and kidneys. great attention has been given to this subject. sanctorius, a celebrated medical writer, weighed himself, his food, and his excretions, daily, for thirty days. he inferred from his experiments that _five pounds_ of every eight, of both food and drink, taken into the system, pass out through the skin. all physiologists agree that from twenty to forty ounces pass off through the skin of an adult in usual health every twenty-four hours. take the lowest estimate, and we find the skin charged with the removal of _twenty ounces_ of waste matter from the system _every day_. we can thus see ample reason why checked perspiration proves so detrimental to health; for every twenty-four hours during which such a state continues, we must either have this amount of useless and hurtful matter accumulating in the system, or some of the other organs of excretion must be greatly overtasked, which obviously can not happen without disturbing their regularity and well-being. it is generally known that continued exposure in a cold day produces either a bowel complaint or inflammation of some internal organ. instead of expressing surprise at this, if people generally understood the structure and uses of their own bodies, they would rather wonder why one or the other of these effects is not _always_ attendant upon so great a violation of the laws of health, _which are the laws of god_. the lungs also excrete a large proportion of waste matter from the system. so far, then, their office is similar to that of the kidneys, the liver, and the bowels. in consequence of this alliance with the skin, these parts are more intimately connected with each other, in both healthy and diseased action, than with other organs. whenever an organ is unusually delicate, it will be more easily affected by any cause of disease than those which are sound. thus, in one instance, checked perspiration may produce a bowel complaint, and in another, inflammation of the lungs, and so on. hence the fitness, in prescribing remedies, of adapting them not only to the _disease_ itself, but of taking into the account the _cause_ of the disease. a bowel complaint, for example, may arise either from overeating or from a check to perspiration. the thing to be cured is the same in both cases, but the _means_ of cure ought obviously to be different. in one instance, an emetic or laxative, to carry off the offending cause, would be the most rational and efficacious remedy; in the other, a diaphoretic should be administered, to open the skin and restore it to a healthy action. facts like these expose the ignorance and impudence of the quack, who undertakes to cure every form of disease by one remedy. it has already been remarked that the skin is charged with the double function of _excretion_ and _absorption_. we have a striking illustration of the exercise of the latter function in the vaccination of children and others, to protect them from small-pox. a small quantity of cow-pox matter is inserted under the external layer of the skin, where it is acted upon, and in a short time taken into the system by the absorbent vessels. in like manner, when the perspiration is brought to the surface of the skin, and confined there, either by injudicious clothing or by want of cleanliness, there is much reason to believe that its residual parts are again absorbed. it is established by observation that concentrated animal effluvia form a very energetic poison. we can, then, see why the absorption of the residual parts of perspiration produces fever, inflammation, and even death itself, according to its quantity and degree of concentration. this leads me to notice the importance of bathing.--the exhalation from the skin being so constant and extensive, and the bad effects of it when confined being so great, it becomes very important that we provide for its removal. this can be most easily and effectually accomplished by frequently bathing the whole body. this is a luxury within the reach of all, but one which is unappreciated by those who have not enjoyed it. an aged gentleman said to me recently, that in early life he "used to go a swimming frequently and enjoyed it much; but," he added, "i have not bathed or washed myself all over _for the last thirty years_!" this, it is believed, is an extreme case. but it is to be feared there are not wanting instances in which persons do not bathe the entire person once a month, or once a year even! when the residual parts of the perspiration are not removed by washing or bathing, they at last obstruct the pores and irritate the skin. it is apparently for this reason that, in the eastern and warmer countries, where perspiration is very copious, ablution and bathing have assumed the rank and importance of _religious observances_. those who are in the habit of using the flesh-brush daily are at first surprised at the quantity of white dry scurf which it brings off; and those who take a warm bath for half an hour at long intervals can not have failed to notice the great amount of impurities which it removes, and the grateful feeling of comfort which its use imparts. it is remarked by an eminent physician, that the warm, tepid, cold, or shower bath, as a means of preserving health, ought to be in as common use as a change of apparel, for it is equally a measure of necessary cleanliness. many, no doubt, neglect this, and enjoy health notwithstanding; but many more suffer from its omission; and even the former would be greatly benefited by employing it. cleanliness, then, is as essential to health as to decency. still more, it promotes not only physical health, but contributes largely to strengthen and invigorate the intellectual faculties, and to elevate and purify the affections. it comes, then, to be ranked among the _cardinal virtues_. to secure the benefits of bathing or ablution, a great amount of apparatus is not necessary. a shower-bath, or plunge-bath, may not be best for all. every one can procure a wash-bowl and one or two quarts of water, which are all that is necessary. to prevent the reduction of heat in the system by evaporation, and especially in cold weather, it will usually be found best to bathe the body _by sections_. it is generally agreed that the morning is the best time for bathing. immediately on rising, then, the clothing being removed, let the head, face, and neck be washed as usual, and thoroughly dried by the use of a towel. proceed to wash the chest and abdomen, which may be dried as before, after which a coarse towel or a flesh-brush should be vigorously applied, until the skin is perfectly dry, and there is a pleasant glow upon the surface. the back and limbs, in turn, should be washed, dried, and excited to a healthy and pleasant glow by friction. this last is of the utmost importance. if not easily secured, salt or vinegar may be added to the water, both of which are excellent stimulants to the skin.[ ] when these are used, and care is taken to excite in the surface, by subsequent friction with a coarse towel, flesh-brush, or hair glove, the healthful glow of reaction, it will be found to contribute largely to both physical and mental comfort. the beneficial results will be more apparent if, while bathing and rubbing the chest and abdomen, pains are taken to throw back the shoulders, expand the lungs, and enlarge the chest. [ ] it will frequently be found more convenient, and will be well-nigh as serviceable, to wash in soft water as usual, and excite a reaction in the skin in the use of a towel that has been dipped in brine and dried. by an act of the legislature of the commonwealth of massachusetts, passed in april last, it is required that "physiology and hygiene shall hereafter be taught in the schools of that commonwealth, in all cases in which the school committee shall deem it expedient." when physiology is not made a study in school, the teacher should not fail to give familiar and instructive lectures on the subject. i know of instances where, by this simple means, the habits of a whole school, composed of several hundred youth of both sexes, have been radically changed; and the practice of daily ablution has ceased to be the luxury of the few, having become the necessity not only of teachers and scholars, but of the families in which they reside. there is the most satisfactory evidence that cleanliness is conducive to health.[ ] how important it is, then, that _habits of cleanliness_ be formed at an early age. [ ] the friends of educational reform may well take courage from the increased attention which the subject of physical education is of late receiving from the _pulpit_ and the _press_, those mighty conservators of the public weal. since the text was prepared for the press, the following remarks and pertinent inquiry have appeared in the family favorite for february, . they are quoted from a discourse by the editor, the rev. james v. watson, on the first sabbath of the new year: "the true interpretation of the providence of god in asiatic cholera perhaps has never yet fully been given. is it not one of god's marked modes of rebuking intemperance, physical uncleanness, and social degradation--evils which result from perverted appetite, wrong forms of government, and a want of christian benevolence? the reformer, the philanthropist, and the christian may learn a lesson here." dr. weiss, a distinguished german physician, in his remarks on this subject, says, the best time, undoubtedly, for these ablutions, is the morning. they are to be performed immediately after rising from the bed, when the temperature of the body is raised by the heat of the bed. the sudden change favors in a great measure the reaction which ensues, and excites the skin, rendered more sensitive by the perspiration during the night, to renewed activity. cold ablutions, he adds, are fitted for all constitutions; they are best adapted for purifying and strengthening the body; for women, weak subjects, children, and old age. the room in which the ablution is performed may be slightly heated for debilitated patients in winter, to prevent colds in consequence of too low a temperature of the apartment; this exception is, however, only admissible for very weakly persons. generally speaking, ablutions may be performed in a cold room, especially where persons get through the operation quickly, and can immediately afterward take exercise in the open air. it is the opinion of dr. combe that bathing is a safe and valuable preservative of health, in ordinary circumstances, and an active remedy in disease. instead of being dangerous by causing liability to cold, it is, he says, when well managed, so much the reverse, that he has used it much and successfully for the express purpose of diminishing such liability, both in himself and in others in whom the chest is delicate. in his own instance, in particular, he is conscious of having derived much advantage from its regular employment, especially in the colder months of the year, during which he has found himself most effectually strengthened against the impression of cold by repeating the bath at shorter intervals than usual. i shall conclude my remarks on bathing by presenting a paragraph from this transatlantic author. if the bath can not be had at all places, soap and water may be obtained every where, and leave no apology for neglecting the skin. if the constitution be delicate, water and vinegar, or water and salt, used daily, form an excellent and safe means of cleansing and gently stimulating the skin. to the invalid they are highly beneficial, when the nature of the indisposition does not render them improper. a rough and rather coarse towel is a very useful auxiliary in such ablutions. few of those who have steadiness to keep up the action of the skin by the above means, and to avoid strong and exciting causes, will ever suffer from colds, sore throats, or similar complaints; while, as a means of restoring health, they are often incalculably serviceable. if one tenth of the persevering attention and labor bestowed to so much purpose in rubbing down and currying the skins of horses were bestowed by the human race in keeping themselves in good condition, and a little attention were paid to diet and clothing, colds, nervous diseases, and stomach complaints would cease to form so large an item in the catalogue of human miseries. man studies the nature of other animals, and adapts his conduct to their constitution; himself alone he continues ignorant of and neglects. he considers himself a being of superior order, and not subject to the laws of organization which regulate the functions of the lower animals; but this conclusion is the result of ignorance and pride, and not a just inference from the premises on which it is ostensibly founded. clothing.--the skin is very materially affected in the healthy performance of its functions by the nature and condition of the clothing. it is a very commonly received opinion that one principal object in clothing is to impart heat to the body. this, however, is an erroneous idea; the utmost that it can do is to _prevent the escape of heat_. all articles of clothing are not alike in this respect. some conduct the heat from the body readily, and are hence much used in warm weather; as linen, for example. others, again, have very little tendency to convey heat from the body, and are hence sought in cold weather. of this nature are furs, and cloths manufactured from wool. i do not intend in this connection to speak of the merits of different kinds of clothing, but to remark simply upon the necessity of changing clothes often, or at least of ventilating them frequently. this remark applies particularly to all articles of clothing worn next to the skin, and to beds. clothes worn next to the skin during the day should be removed on going to bed, and a fresh sleeping-gown should be put on. the former should be hung up in a situation that will allow the accumulated perspiration of the day to pass off by evaporation. by this means they will become sufficiently freshened and ventilated, by morning, to be worn another day, when the night-clothes, in turn, should be ventilated. beds also should be thrown open and exposed to fresh air with open doors, or at least windows, several hours before being made. in our best-regulated boarding schools, and literary and benevolent institutions of all kinds, particular attention is now paid to this subject. in some instances, lodging rooms are furnished with frames for the express purpose of facilitating the ventilation of the bed-clothes. immediately on rising in the morning, the clothes are removed from the beds, and exposed upon these frames to a current of fresh air for several hours, the windows being opened for that purpose. notwithstanding care be taken to promote personal cleanliness by daily ablutions, if the ventilation of beds and clothing be neglected, and perspiration be suffered to accumulate in them, it may be reabsorbed, and, passing again into the circulation, produce all the mischief of which i have before spoken. the teeth.--i have already spoken of the relation the teeth sustain to digestion. their use in the proper mastication of food is essential to the healthy and vigorous performance of this important function. the proper use of a good set of teeth contributes largely to both the physical comfort, and the intellectual and moral well-being of their possessor; but when neglected, they very commonly decay and become useless; nay, more, they are not unfrequently a source of great and almost constant discomfort for years. in order to preserve the teeth, they must be _kept clean_. after every meal, they should be cleaned with a brush and water. a tooth-pick will sometimes be found necessary in the removal of particles of food that are inaccessible to the brush. metallic tooth-picks injure the enamel, and should not be used. those made of ivory, or the common goose-quill, are unobjectionable. the brush should be used, not only after each meal, but the last thing at night and the first thing in the morning. this will prevent the accumulation of _tartar_, which so commonly incrusts neglected teeth. if suffered to remain, it gradually accumulates, presses upon the gums, and destroys their health. by this means the roots of the teeth become bare, and thus deprived of their natural stimulus, they prematurely decay. food or drink either very hot or very cold is exceedingly injurious to the teeth. sour drops, acidulated drinks, and all articles of food that "set the teeth on edge," are injurious, and should be carefully avoided. should it become necessary to take sour drops as a medicine, they should be given through a quill, and every precaution should be taken to prevent their coming in contact with the teeth. even then the mouth should be well rinsed immediately after they are swallowed. disordered digestion is a great source of injury to the teeth both in childhood and in mature age. when digestion is vigorous, there is less deposition of tartar, and the teeth are naturally of a purer white. especially is this true when the general health is good, and the diet plain, and contains a full proportion of vegetable matter. this accounts for the fact that many rustics and savages possess teeth that would be envied in town. tobacco is sometimes used as a _preservative_ of the teeth. it is, indeed, occasionally prescribed as a _curative_ by ignorant physicians, and those who are willing to pander to the diseased appetites of their patients. but there is the best medical testimony that the use of this _filthy weed_ "_debilitates the vessels of the gums, turns the teeth yellow, and renders the appearance of the mouth disagreeable._" dr. rush informs us that he knew a man in philadelphia who _lost all his teeth_ by smoking. in speaking of the _moral effects_ of this practice, he adds, "smoking and chewing tobacco, by rendering water and other simple liquors insipid to the taste, dispose very much to the stronger stimulus of ardent spirits; hence the practice of smoking cigars throughout our country has been followed by the use of brandy and water as a common drink." a dentist of extensive and successful practice in the middle and western states, after listening to the reading of this article, said to me, he had a patient, a young lady, two of whose front teeth had decayed through, laterally, in consequence of smoking. on removing the caries, he found it impossible to fill her teeth, because the openings continued through them. he thinks, as do many others, that the heat of the smoke is a principal cause of the injury. among the conditions upon which the healthy action of the voluntary organs depends is a due degree of _appropriate exercise_. this is a _general law_, and holds with reference to the _teeth_ as well as to any other organ or set of organs. the proper mastication of healthful and nutritious food constitutes the appropriate exercise of the teeth, and is a condition upon which _their health_, and the healthy exercise of the function of _digestion_, alike depend. if from any cause the teeth of one jaw are removed, the corresponding teeth of the other jaw, being thus deprived of that exercise which is essential to their health, are pressed out of the jaw, appear to grow long, become loose in their sockets, and sometimes fall out. hence the propriety and advantage of inserting _artificial teeth_ where the natural ones fail; an event which rarely happens when they are properly taken care of. i need hardly add that nuts, and other hard substances that break the enamel, are injurious to the teeth, and should be avoided. the bones.--the bones constitute the frame-work of the system. they consist of two substances, being formed of both _animal_ and _earthy_ matter. to the former belongs every thing connected with their _life_ and _growth_, while the latter gives to them _solidity_ and _strength_. the proportions of the animal and earthy elements of which the bones are composed vary at different ages. in childhood and early youth, when but _little strength_ is needed, and _great growth_ of bone is required, the animal part preponderates. as growth advances the animal part _decreases_, and the earthy part _increases_. in middle life, when growth is finished and the strength is greatest, and when nutrition is required only to repair waste, the proportions are changed, and the solid or earthy part exceeds the vital or animal; and in extreme old age, the earthy part so predominates as to cause the bones to become very brittle. the bones, like other parts of the system, require exercise. if properly used, they increase in size and strength. but while a due degree of exercise is beneficial, it ought to be remarked that severe and continued labor should not be required of children and youth; for its tendency is to increase the deposition of earthy matter to a hurtful extent. it is by this means that many children are made dwarfs for life, their bones being consolidated by an undue amount of exercise and excessive labor before they have attained their full growth. multitudes of children in our country, from this and kindred causes, fail of attaining the size of their ancestors. these remarks may be turned to a practical account in the family and in the school. at birth, many of the bones are scarcely more than cartilage; yet children are frequently urged to stand and walk long before the bones become sufficiently strong to sustain the pressure; and, as a consequence, their legs become crooked, and they are perhaps other ways deformed for life. children ought always, when seated, to be able to rest their feet upon the floor. when they occupy a seat that is too high, and especially when they are unable to reach their feet to the floor, the thigh bones very frequently become curved. if, in addition to high seats, the back is not supported, children become round shouldered, their chests contract, their constitutions become permanently enfeebled, and they become peculiarly susceptible to pulmonary disease. the back to the seat should afford a pleasant and agreeable support to the small of the back, but it ought not to reach to the shoulder blades. parents and teachers should never forget that children are as susceptible to physical training as to intellectual or moral culture. and here, especially, they should be "trained _up_ in the way they should go." physical uprightness is next to moral. if children are allowed to contract bad physical habits, they are liable not only to grow crooked, but to become deformed in various ways. but so great is the power of education, that by it even the physically crooked may be made straight; the chest may be enlarged, the general health may be improved, and much may be done in many ways to fortify those who have inherited feeble constitutions against the attacks of disease. the benefits resulting from maintaining an upright form, and a free and open chest, have already been considered, and i shall have occasion to refer to them again. the chest of most adults, although _incased with bone_, may be increased several inches by drawing the arms back in the use of _nature's own shoulder-braces_, and at the same time taking deep inhalations of air, and filling the lungs to their utmost capacity. hundreds of individuals in different parts of the country have borne testimony to the efficacy of this treatment in the improvement of their health. the good results of such discipline in childhood are still more manifest. a stooping posture is frequently induced by sitting at tables and desks that are too low. it has been erroneously maintained by some that the top of the desk should be on the same plane with the elbow when the arm hangs by the side. when the desk is higher, it has been said the tendency is to elevate one shoulder, to depress the other, and to produce a permanent curvature of the spinal column. although this may have been frequently the result of sitting at a high desk, yet it is not a _necessary result_. to prevent the projection of one shoulder, and the consequent spinal curvature, _both of the arms must be kept on the same level_. for this purpose, there should be room to support them equally; and care should be taken to see that this support is regularly sought. if this be not done, the right arm will be apt to rise above the left, from its more constant use and elevation. a physician, highly celebrated for the success that has attended his treatment for lung affections, after dwelling upon the injury to the health that frequently results from sitting at too low desks, remarks, that "every parent should go to the school-rooms, and know for a certainty that the desks at which his children write or study are fully up to the arm-pits, and in no case allow them to sit stooping, or leaning the shoulders forward on the chest. if fatigued by this posture, they should be called to stand, or go out of doors and run about." the height of table i find most conducive to comfort for my own use is midway between the two; that is, half way from the elbow (as the arm hangs by the side) to the arm-pit. it is necessary, however, to rest both arms equally upon the table. the secret of posture consists in avoiding all bad positions, and in not continuing any one position too long. the ordinary carriage of the body is an object worthy of the attention of every parent and instructor. the more favorable impression which a man of erect and commanding attitude is sure to make, should not be overlooked. but there is a greater good than this; for he who _walks erect_, enjoys better health, possesses increased powers of usefulness, realizes more that _he is a man_, and has more to call forth gratitude to a beneficent creator, than he who adopts an _oblique_ posture. it was just remarked that "physical uprightness is next to moral." physical _obliquity_, it may be added, is akin to _moral_. if they are not german-cousins, there can be little doubt but that, considered in all its bearings, the tendency of the former is to induce the latter. important as an erect posture and a well-developed chest are to gentlemen, they are in some respects even more so to the fairer sex; for, in addition to the advantages already considered, which both enjoy in common, these impart to them a peculiar charm, that to men of sense is far greater than pretty faces, which nature has not given to all. "for a great number of years, it has been the custom in france to give young females, of the earliest age, the habit of holding back the shoulders, and thus expanding the chest. from the observations of anatomists lately made, it appears that the clavicle or collar bone is actually longer in females of the french nation than in those of the english. as the two nations are of the same race, as there is no remarkable difference in their bones, and this is peculiar to the sex, it must be attributed, as i believe, to the habit above mentioned, which, by the extension of the arms, has gradually produced an elongation of this bone. thus we see that habit may be employed to alter and improve the solid bones. the french have succeeded in the development of a part in a way that adds to health and beauty, and increases a characteristic that distinguishes the human being from the brute."[ ] [ ] quoted into the schoolmaster (a work published in london under the superintendence of the society for the diffusion of useful knowledge) from a lecture delivered by dr. j. c. warren before the american institute of instruction, august, . the muscles.--the muscles consist of compact bundles of fleshy fibers, which are found in animals on removing the skin. they constitute the red fleshy part of meat, and give form and symmetry to the body. in the limbs they surround and protect the bones, while in the trunk they spread out and constitute a defensive wall for the protection of the vital parts beneath. the muscles have been divided into _three parts_, of which the middle and fleshy portion, called the _belly_, is most conspicuous. the other two parts are the opposite ends, and are commonly called the _origin_ and _insertion_ of the muscle. the _origin_ is usually fastened to one bone, and the _insertion_ is attached to another. by the contraction of the _belly_ of the muscle, the _insertion_, which is _movable_, is drawn toward the _origin_, which is _fixed_, and brings with it the bone to which it is attached. this any one can see illustrated in bending the arm. the muscle which performs this function lies between the elbow and the shoulder. it is attached to the shoulder by its _origin_, and to one of the bones of the fore-arm, just below the elbow, by its _insertion_. by grasping the arm midway between the shoulder and the elbow with the opposite hand, and then bending the arm, the enlargement of the belly of the muscle by the contraction will be at once perceived. then, by moving the hand down on the inside of the arm toward the elbow, the lessening muscle may be readily traced until it terminates in a _tendon_, of much less size than the muscle, but of great strength, which is inserted into the bone just below the elbow. as the fore-arm is drawn up, and especially if there be a weight in the hand, the _tendon_ may be felt just within the elbow-joint, running toward the point of insertion. extend the arm at the elbow, and the muscle on the outside of the arm will swell and become firm, while the inside muscle, and its tendon at the elbow, will be relaxed. this example well illustrates the principle on which all the joints of the system are moved. those who are acquainted with mechanics will readily perceive that the action just described is an example of the "_third_ kind of lever," where the power is applied between the weight and the fulcrum. the elbow is the fulcrum, the hand contains the weight, and the tendon, inserted into the bone just below the elbow, is the power. this kind of lever requires the power to be greater than the weight, and acts under what is called a _mechanical disadvantage_. what is lost in power, however, is compensated in increased velocity. there are upward of four hundred muscles in the human body. some of these are _voluntary_ in their motions, as those i have described, while others are _involuntary_, as the action of the heart and the respiratory muscles. had the action of these depended upon the will, as does the action of the muscles of locomotion, the circulation of the blood and the process of breathing would cease, and life would become extinct whenever sleep or any other cause should overcome the attention. here, then, we have another beautiful illustration of the wisdom and beneficence of the creator in so ordering that those muscles which are essential to the continuation of life shall perform their functions without the control or attention of the individual. the study of the muscular system involves an exposition of the principles by which exercise should be regulated, and can scarcely fail to excite the attention of the general reader, and especially of those who, as parents or teachers, are interested in the education of the young. the muscles enable us to move the frame-work of the system. their chief purpose obviously is to enable us to carry into effect the various resolutions and designs which have been formed by the mind. but, while fulfilling this grand object, their active exercise is, at the same time, highly conducive to the well-being of many other important functions. by muscular contraction, the blood is gently assisted in its course through the smaller vessels to the more distant parts of the body; and by it the important processes of digestion, respiration, secretion, absorption, and nutrition are promoted; and by it the health of the whole body is immediately and greatly influenced. the mind itself is exhilarated or depressed by the proper or improper use of muscular exercise. it thus becomes a point of no slight importance to establish general principles by which that exercise may be regulated. in every part of the animal economy, the muscles are proportioned in size and structure to the efforts required of them. whenever a muscle is called into frequent use, its fibers increase in thickness within certain limits, and become capable of acting with greater force and readiness. on the other hand, when a muscle is little used, its volume and power decrease in a corresponding degree. in order to secure the most beneficial results from exercise, reference should be had to the time at which it is taken. those who are in perfect health may engage in it at almost any hour except immediately after a meal; but those who are not robust ought to confine their hours of exercise within narrower limits. to a person in full vigor, a good walk, or other brisk exercise before breakfast may be highly beneficial and exhilarating, while to an invalid or delicate person it will be likely to prove detrimental. in order to prove beneficial, exercise must be resorted to only when the system is sufficiently vigorous to be able to meet it. this is usually the case after a lapse of from two to four hours after a moderate meal. the forenoon, then, will generally be found the best time for exercise for persons whose habits are sedentary. if exercise be delayed till the system feels exhaustion from want of food, its tendency will be to dissipate the strength that remains and impair digestion; while, if taken at the proper time, it will invigorate the system and promote digestion. the reasons are obvious; for exercise of every kind causes increased action and waste in the organ, and if there be not materials and vigor enough in the system to keep up that action and supply the waste, nothing but increased debility can reasonably be expected. active exercise immediately _before_ meals is injurious. the reasons are apparent, for muscular exercise directs a flow of blood and nervous energy to the surface and extremities; and it is an established law in physiology, that energetic action can not be kept up in two distant parts of the system at the same time. hence, whenever a meal is taken immediately after vigorous exercise, the stomach is taken at disadvantage, and, from want of the necessary action in its vessels and nerves, is unable to carry on digestion with success. this is very obviously the case where the exercise has been severe or protracted. active exercise ought to be equally avoided immediately _after_ a heavy meal, for then the functions of the digestive organs are in the highest state of activity. if the muscular system be called into vigorous action under such circumstances, it will cause a withdrawal of the vital stimuli of the blood and nervous influence from the stomach to the extremities, which can not fail greatly to retard the digestive process. in accordance with this well-established fact, there is a natural and marked aversion to active pursuits after a full meal. a mere stroll, which requires no exertion and does not fatigue, will not be injurious before or after eating; but exercise beyond this limit is at such times hurtful. all, therefore, who would preserve and improve their health, will find it to their advantage to observe faithfully this important law, otherwise they will deprive themselves of most of the benefits that are usually attendant upon judicious exercise. all, then, who are forced to much exertion immediately after eating, should satisfy themselves with partaking of a very moderate meal. these remarks apply to both physical and mental exercise; for if the intellect be intently occupied in profound and absorbing thought, the nervous energy will be concentrated in the brain, and any demands made on it by the stomach or muscles will be very imperfectly attended to. so, also, if the stomach be actively engaged in digesting a full meal, and some subject of thought be presented to the mind, considerable difficulty will be felt in pursuing it, and most probably both thought and digestion will be disturbed. another law of the muscular system requires that relaxation and contraction should alternate; or, in other words, that rest should follow exercise. in accordance with this law, it is easier to walk than to stand; and in standing, it is easier to change from one foot to the other than to stand still. to require a child to extend his arm and hold a book in his hand, or even to keep the arm extended but a short time, is a violation of this law which should never be permitted. akin to this is the very injudicious practice, which is sometimes resorted to in schools, of requiring a boy to stoop over, and, placing his finger upon a nail in the floor, "hold it in." teachers who are disposed to inflict punishments like these ought first to try the experiment themselves. such protracted tension of the muscles enfeebles their action, and ultimately destroys their power of contraction. these remarks sufficiently explain why small children, after sitting a while in school, become restless. proper regard for this organic law requires that the smaller children in school be allowed a recess as often, at least, as once an hour; and that all be allowed and encouraged frequently to change their position. i fully concur in the opinion expressed by dr. caldwell, who says, "it would be infinitely wiser and better to employ suitable persons to superintend the exercises and amusements of children under seven years of age, in the fields, orchards, and meadows, and point out to them the richer beauties of nature, than to have them immured in crowded school-rooms, in a state of inaction, poring over torn books and primers, conning words of whose meaning they are ignorant, and breathing foul air." a change of position calls into action a different set of muscles, and relieves those that are exhausted. the object of exercise is to employ all the muscles of the body, and especially to strengthen those that are weak. it ought hence to be frequently varied, and always adapted to the peculiarities of individuals. different kinds of exercise will therefore be found to suit different constitutions. sedentary persons best enjoy, and will be most profited by, that kind of exercise which brings into action the greatest number of muscles. to give exercise its greatest value, it should be taken at the same hour every day. this is well-nigh as important as the rule that requires meals to be taken regularly. if exercise be taken irregularly, one day in the morning, another day at noon, and another day at night, if at all, it is possible that good may result from it, but its beneficial effects would be greatly increased if the same amount of exercise were taken every day at the same hours. give the system an opportunity of establishing _good habits_ in this respect, and it will derive great advantage from them; but it is difficult for it to derive any benefit from a _habit of irregularity_, if such may be called a habit. students, teachers, and all persons who lead sedentary lives, should have their regular times for exercise as well as for meals, and if they find it necessary to do without one, they will generally find it advantageous to dispense with the other also. walking, it has been said, agrees with every body. but as it brings into play chiefly the lower limbs and muscles of the loins, and affords little scope for the play of the arms and muscles of the chest, it is of itself insufficient to constitute adequate exercise. to render it most beneficial, the shoulders should be drawn back, and the chest should be enlarged by taking deep inspirations of pure air. the muscles of the chest, and of every part of the body, should be free to move and unconfined by tight clothing. fencing, shuttlecock, and such other useful sports as combine with them free movements of the upper part of the body, are doubly advantageous, for they not only exercise the muscles of the whole body, but possess the additional advantage of animating the mind and increasing the nervous stimulus, by which exercise is rendered easy, pleasant, and invigorating. for the purpose of developing the chest, physiologists generally concur in recommending _fencing_ as a good exercise for boys. shuttlecock is a very beneficial exercise for females, calling into play, as it does, the muscles of the chest, trunk, and arms. it ought to be practiced in the open air. when played with both hands, as it may be after a little practice, it is very useful in preventing curvature, and in giving vigor to the spine. it is an excellent plan to play with a battledore in each hand, and to strike with them alternately. the graces is another play well adapted for expanding the chest, and giving strength to the muscles of the back, and has the advantage of being practicable in the open air. it is very important that the muscles of the back be strengthened by due exercise, for their proper use contributes to both health and beauty. when managed with due regard to the natural powers of the individual, and so as to avoid effort and fatigue, _reading aloud_ becomes a very useful and invigorating exercise. in forming and undulating the voice, not only the chest, but also the diaphragm and abdominal muscles are in constant action, and communicate to the stomach and bowels a healthy and agreeable stimulus. where the voice is raised and the elocution is rapid, the muscular effort becomes fatiguing; but when care is taken not to carry reading aloud so far at one time as to excite a sensation of soreness or fatigue in the chest, and the exercise is duly repeated, it is extremely useful in developing and giving tone to the organs of respiration and to the general system. "vocal music is also very useful, by its direct effect on the constitution. it was the opinion of dr. rush, that young ladies especially, who, by the custom of society, are debarred from many kinds of salubrious exercise, should cultivate singing, not only as an accomplishment, but as a means of preserving health. he particularly insists that it should never be neglected in the education of females; and states that, besides its salutary operation in enabling them to soothe the cares of domestic life, and quiet sorrow by the united assistance of the sound and sentiment of a properly chosen song, it has a still more direct and important effect. 'i here introduce a fact,' he remarks, 'which has been suggested to me by my profession, and that is, that the exercise of the organs of the breast by singing contributes very much to defend them from those diseases to which the climate and other causes expose them. the germans are seldom afflicted with consumption, nor have i ever known but one instance of spitting blood among them. this, i believe, is in part occasioned by the strength which their lungs acquire by exercising them frequently in vocal music, for this constitutes an essential branch of their education. the music-master of our academy has furnished me with an observation still more in favor of this opinion. he informed me that he had known several instances of persons who were strongly disposed to consumption, who were restored to health by the exercise of their lungs in singing.'"[ ] [ ] mr. woodbridge's lecture before the american institute of instruction, . bathing or ablution, when conducted as recommended on pages and , is not only a means of cleanliness and of exciting a healthy action in the skin, but it constitutes, at the same time, a most _admirable exercise_. if a lodging-room has been properly ventilated by leaving open windows, or otherwise, so that the air is pure and healthful in the morning, ten or fifteen minutes spent in bathing and friction, with a proper exercise of the muscles of the back and abdomen, will contribute more to invigorate the system and promote the general health than twice the amount of exercise taken at any other time or in any other way. from the foregoing remarks, it appears that the most perfect of all exercises are those which combine the free play of all the muscles of the body, mental interest and excitement, and the unrestrained use of the voice. chapter iv. the laws of health. philosophy of respiration. we instinctively shun approach to the dirty, the squalid, and the diseased, and use no garment that may have been worn by another. we open sewers for matters that offend the sight or the smell, and contaminate the air. we carefully remove impurities from what we eat and drink, filter turbid water, and fastidiously avoid drinking from a cup that may have been pressed to the lips of a friend. on the other hand, we resort to places of assembly, and draw into our mouths air loaded with effluvia from the lungs, skin, and clothing of every individual in the promiscuous crowd--exhalations offensive, to a certain extent, from the most healthy individuals; but when arising from a living mass of skin and lungs in all stages of evaporation, disease, and putridity, they are in the highest degree deleterious and loathsome.--birnan. respiration is usually defined as the process by which air is taken into the lungs and expelled from them. it explains the changes that take place in these organs, in the conversion of _chyle_ and _venous_, or worn-out blood, into _arterial_ or nutrient blood. in order to be clearly understood, i must premise a few observations on the circulation of the blood.[ ] the blood circulating through the body is of two different kinds; the one _red_ or _arterial_, and the other _dark_ or _venous_ blood. the former alone is capable of affording nourishment and supporting life. it is distributed from the _left_ side of the heart all over the body by means of a great _artery_, which subdivides in its course, and ultimately terminates in myriads of very minute ramifications closely interwoven with, and in reality constituting a part of, the texture of every living part. on reaching this extreme point of its course, the blood passes into equally minute ramifications of the _veins_, which in their turn gradually coalesce, and form larger and larger trunks, till they at last terminate in two large veins, by which the whole current of the venous blood is brought back in a direction contrary to that of the blood in the arteries, and poured into the _right_ side of the heart. on examining the quality of the blood in the arteries and veins, it is found to have undergone a great change in its passage from the one to the other. the florid hue which distinguished it in the arteries has disappeared, and given place to the dark color characteristic of venous blood. its properties, too, have changed, and it is now no longer capable of sustaining life. [ ] taken, with slight alterations, from the description of dr. a. combe. two conditions are essential to the reconversion of venous into arterial blood, and to the restoration of its vital properties. the first is an adequate provision of _new materials_ from the _food_ to supply the place of those which have been expended in nutrition, and the second is the free exposure of the _venous blood_ to the _atmospheric air_. the first condition is fulfilled by the chyle, or nutrient portion of the food, being regularly poured into the venous blood just before it reaches the right side of the heart, and the second by the important process of _respiration_, which takes place in the air-cells of the lungs. the venous blood, having arrived at the right side of the heart, is propelled by the contraction of that organ into a large artery, leading directly, by separate branches, to the two lungs, and hence called the _pulmonary_ artery. in the innumerable branches of this artery expanding themselves throughout the substance of the lungs, the dark blood is subjected to the contact of the air inhaled in breathing, and a change in the composition both of the blood and of the inhaled air takes place, in consequence of which the former is found to have reassumed its florid or arterial hue, and to have regained its power of supporting life. the blood then enters minute venous ramifications, which gradually coalesce into larger branches, and at last terminate in four large trunks in the left side of the heart, whence the blood, in its arterial form, is again distributed over the body, to pursue the same course and undergo the same change as before. it will be perceived that there are two distinct circulations, each of which is carried on by its own system of vessels. the one is from the _left_ side of the _heart_ to _every part of the body_, and back to the _right_ side of the _heart_. the other is from the _right_ side of the _heart_ to the _lungs_, and back to the _left_ side of the _heart_. the former has for its object nutrition and the maintenance of life; and the latter, the restoration of the deteriorated blood, and the _animalization_ or _assimilation_ of the _chyle_ from which the _blood_ is formed. this process has already been referred to as the _completion of digestion_; for _chyle_ is not fitted to nourish the system until, by its exposure to the atmospheric air in the lungs, it is converted into _arterial blood_. as the food can not become a part of the living animal, or the venous blood regain its lost properties until they have undergone the requisite changes in the air-cells of the lungs, the function of respiration by which these are effected is one of pre-eminent importance in the animal economy, and well deserves the most careful examination. the term respiration is frequently restricted to the mere inhalation and expiration of air from the lungs, but more generally it is employed to designate the whole series of phenomena which occur in these organs. the term _sanguification_ is occasionally used to denote that part of the process in which the blood, by exposure to the action of the air, passes from the venous to the arterial state. as the chyle does not become assimilated to the blood until it has passed through the lungs, this term, which signifies _blood-making_, is not unaptly used. the _quantity_ and _quality_ of the blood have a most direct and material influence upon the condition of every part of the body. if the _quantity_ sent to the arm, for example, be diminished by tying the artery through which it is conveyed, the arm, being then imperfectly nourished, wastes away, and does not regain its plumpness till the full supply of blood be restored. in like manner, when the _quality_ of that fluid is impaired by deficiency of food, bad digestion, impure air, or imperfect sanguification in the lungs, the body and all its functions become more or less disordered. thus, in consumption, death takes place chiefly in consequence of respiration not being sufficiently perfect to admit of the formation of proper blood in the lungs. a knowledge of the structure and functions of the lungs, and of the conditions favorable to _their_ healthy action, is therefore very important, for on their welfare depends that of every organ of the body. the exposure of the blood to the action of the air seems to be indispensable to every variety of animated creatures. in man and the more perfect of the lower animals, it is carried on in the lungs, the structure of which is admirably adapted for the purpose. in many animals, however, the requisite action is effected without the intervention of lungs. in fishes, for example, that live in water and do not breathe, the blood circulates through the gills, and in them is exposed to the air which the water contains. so necessary is the atmospheric air to the vitality of the blood in all animals, that the want of it inevitably proves fatal. a fish can no more live in water deprived of air, than a man could in an atmosphere devoid of oxygen, which is the element that unites with the blood in the lungs in sanguification. in man the lungs are those large, light, spongy bodies which, along with the heart, completely fill up the cavity of the chest. they vary much in size in different persons; and as the chest is formed for their protection, it is either large and capacious, or the reverse, according to the size of the lungs. the substance of the lungs consists of bronchial tubes, air-cells, blood-vessels, nerves, and cellular membrane. the bronchial tubes are merely continuations and subdivisions of the windpipe, and serve to convey the external air to the air-cells of the lungs. the air-cells constitute the chief part of the lungs, and are the termination of the smaller branches of the bronchial tubes. when fully distended, they are so numerous as in appearance to constitute almost the whole lung. they are of various sizes, from the twentieth to the hundredth of an inch in diameter, and are lined with an exceedingly fine, thin membrane, on which the minute capillary branches of the pulmonary arteries and veins are copiously ramified. it is while circulating in the small vessels of this membrane, and there exposed to the air, that the blood undergoes the change from the venous to the arterial state. so numerous are these air-cells, that the aggregate extent of their lining membrane in man has been computed to exceed twenty thousand square inches, or about ten times the surface of the human body. some writers place the estimate considerably higher. a copious _exhalation_ of moisture takes place in breathing, which presents a striking analogy to the exhalation from the surface of the skin already described. in the former as in the latter instance, the exhalation is carried on by the innumerable minute capillary vessels in which the small arterial branches terminate in the air-cells. pulmonary exhalation is, in fact, one of the chief outlets of waste matter from the system; and the air we breathe is thus vitiated, not only by the subtraction of its oxygen and the addition of carbonic acid gas, but also by animal effluvia, with which it is loaded when returned from the lungs. in some individuals this last source of impurity is so great as to render their vicinity offensive, and even insupportable. it is this which gives the disagreeable, sickening smell to crowded rooms. the air which is expired from the lungs is rendered offensive by various other causes. when spirituous liquors are taken into the stomach, for example, they are absorbed by the veins and mixed with the venous blood, in which they are carried to the lungs to be expelled from the body. in some instances, when persons have drank copiously of spirits, their breath has been so saturated with them as actually to _take fire_ and _burn_. an instance of this kind has recently been communicated to me by several reliable witnesses, in which the flame was extinguished by closing the mouth and nose, thus excluding the pure air that supported the combustion, until the unfortunate experimenter could remove the candle by which his breath had taken fire. this illustration will explain how the odor of different substances is frequently perceptible in the breath long after the mouth is free from them. the lungs not only exhale waste matter, but _absorption_ takes place from their lining membrane. in both of these respects there is a striking analogy between the functions performed by the lungs and the skin. when a person breathes an atmosphere loaded with the fumes of spirits, tobacco, turpentine, or of any other volatile substance, a portion of the fumes is taken up by the absorbing vessels of the lungs, and carried into the system, and there produces precisely the same effects as if introduced into the stomach. dogs, for example, have been killed by being made to inhale the fumes of prussic acid for a few minutes. the lungs thus become a ready inlet to contagion, miasmata, and other poisonous influences diffused through the air we breathe. from this general explanation of the structure and uses of the lungs, it is obvious that several conditions which it is our interest to know and observe are essential to the healthy performance of the important function of respiration. the first among these is a healthy original formation of the lungs. no fact in medicine is better established, says dr. combe, than that which proves the hereditary transmission, from parents to children, of a constitutional liability to pulmonary disease, and especially to consumption; yet, continues he, no condition is less attended to in forming matrimonial engagements. another requisite to the well-being of the lungs, and to the free and salutary exercise of respiration, is a due supply of rich and healthy blood. when, from defective food or impaired digestion, the blood is impoverished in quality, and rendered unfit for adequate nutrition, the lungs speedily suffer, and that often to a fatal extent. the free and easy expansion of the chest is also indispensable to the full play and dilation of the lungs. whatever interferes with or impedes it, either in dress or in position, is obviously prejudicial to health. on the other hand, whatever favors the free expansion of the chest equally promotes the healthy action of the respiratory organs. stays and corsets, and tight vests and waistbands, operate most injuriously, compressing as they do the thoracic cavity, and interfering with the healthy dilation of the lungs. the admirable harmony established by the creator between the various constituent parts of the animal frame, renders it impossible to pay regard to the conditions required for the health of any one, or to infringe the conditions required therefor, without all the rest participating in the benefit or injury. thus, while cheerful exercise in the open air and in the society of equals is directly and eminently conducive to the well-being of the muscular system, the advantage does not stop there, the beneficent creator having kindly so ordered it that the same exercise shall be scarcely less advantageous to the important function of respiration. active exercise calls the lungs into play, favors their expansion, promotes the circulation of the blood through their substance, and leads to their complete and healthy development. the same end is greatly facilitated by that free and vigorous exercise of the voice, which so uniformly accompanies and enlivens the sports of the young, and which doubles the benefits derived from them considered as exercise. the excitement of the social and moral feelings which children experience while engaged in play is another powerful tonic, the influence of which on the general health ought not to be overlooked; for the nervous influence is as indispensable to the right performance of respiration as it is to the action of the muscles or to the digestion of food. the regular supply of pure fresh air is another essential condition of healthy respiration, without which the requisite changes in the constitution of the blood, as it passes through the lungs, can not be effected. to enable the reader to appreciate this condition, it is necessary to consider the nature of the changes alluded to. it is ascertained by analysis that the air we breathe is composed chiefly of the two gases _nitrogen_ and _oxygen_, united in the ratio of four to one by volume, with exceedingly small and variable quantities of carbonic acid and aqueous vapor. no other mixture of these, or of any other gases, will sustain healthy respiration. to be more specific--atmospheric air consists of about seventy-eight per cent. of nitrogen, twenty-one per cent. of oxygen, and not quite one per cent. of carbonic acid. such is its constitution when taken into the lungs in the act of breathing. when it is expelled from them, however, its composition is found to be greatly altered. the quantity of nitrogen remains nearly the same, but eight or eight and a half per cent. of the oxygen or vital air have disappeared, and been replaced by an equal amount of carbonic acid. in addition to these changes, the expired air is loaded with moisture. simultaneously with these occurrences, the blood collected from the veins, which enters the lungs of a dark color and unfit for the support of life, assumes a florid hue and acquires the power of supporting life. physiologists are not fully agreed in explaining the processes by which these changes are effected in the lungs. all, however, agree that the change of the blood in the lungs is essentially dependent on the supply of oxygen contained in the air we breathe, and that air is fit or unfit for respiration in exact proportion as its quantity of oxygen approaches to, or differs from, that contained in pure air. if we attempt to breathe nitrogen, hydrogen, or any other gas that does not contain oxygen, the result will be speedy suffocation. if, on the other hand, we breathe air containing too great a proportion of oxygen, the vital powers will speedily suffer from excess of stimulus. the chief chemical properties of the atmosphere are owing to the presence of _oxygen_. nitrogen, which constitutes about four fifths of its volume, has been supposed to act as a mere diluent to the oxygen. _increase_ the proportion of oxygen in the atmosphere, and, as already stated, the vital powers will speedily suffer from excess of stimulus, the circulation and respiration become _too rapid_, and the system generally becomes highly excited. _diminish_ the proportion of oxygen, and the circulation and respiration become _too slow_, weakness and lassitude ensue, and a sense of heaviness and uneasiness pervades the entire system. as has been observed, air _loses_ during each respiration a portion of its oxygen, and gains an equal quantity of _carbonic acid_, which is an _active poison_. when mixed with atmospheric air in the ratio of one to four, it extinguishes animal life. it is this gas that is produced by burning charcoal in a confined portion of common air. its effect upon the system is well known to every reader of our newspapers. it causes dimness of sight, weakness, dullness, a difficulty of breathing, and ultimately _apoplexy_ and _death_.[ ] [ ] since the text was prepared for the press, i have noticed from the syracuse (new york) journal of january d, , mention of the death of general rensselaer van rensselaer, of that city, from breathing "the fumes of charcoal" burned in a "portable furnace." this, it should be remembered, is but _one_ of the _many instances_ that are constantly occurring all over our country, in which _immediate death_ is the result of breathing this destructive agent. respiration produces the same effect upon air that the burning of charcoal does. it converts its oxygen, which is the aliment of animal life, into carbonic acid, which, be it remembered, is an active poison. says dr. turner, in his celebrated work on chemistry, "an animal can not live in air which is unable to support combustion." says the same author again, "an animal can not live in air which contains sufficient carbonic acid for extinguishing a candle." it will presently be seen why these quotations are made. it is stated in several medical works that the quantity of air that enters the lungs at each inspiration of an adult varies from thirty-two to forty cubic inches. to establish more definitely some data upon which a calculation might safely be based, i some years ago conducted an experiment whereby i ascertained the medium quantity of air that entered the lungs of myself and four young men was thirty-six cubic inches, and that respiration is repeated once in three seconds, or twenty times a minute. i also ascertained that _respired air will not support combustion_. this truth, taken in connection with the quotations just made, establishes another and a _more important_ truth, viz., that air once respired will not further sustain animal life. that part of the experiment by which it was ascertained that respired air will not support combustion is very simple, and i here give it with the hope that it may be tried at least in every _school-house_, if not in every family of our wide-spread country. it was conducted as follows: i introduced a lighted taper into an inverted receiver (glass jar) which contained seven quarts of atmospheric air, and placed the mouth of the receiver into a vessel of water. the taper burned with its wonted brilliancy about a minute, and, growing dim gradually, became extinct at the expiration of three minutes. i then filled the receiver with water, and inverting it, placed its mouth beneath the surface of the same fluid in another vessel. i next removed the water from the receiver by _breathing into it_. this was done by filling the lungs with air, which, after being retained a short time in the chest, was exhaled through a siphon (a bent lead tube) into the receiver. i then introduced the lighted taper into the receiver of respired air, by which it was _immediately extinguished_. several persons present then received a quantity of respired air into their lungs, whereupon the premonitory symptoms of apoplexy, as already given, ensued. the experiment was conducted with great care, and several times repeated in the presence of respectable members of the medical profession, a professor of chemistry, and several literary gentlemen, to their entire satisfaction. before proceeding further, i will make a practical application of the principles already established. within the last ten years i have visited half of the states of the union for the purpose of becoming acquainted with the actual condition of our common schools. i have therefore noticed especially the condition of school-houses. although there is a great variety in their dimensions, yet there are comparatively few school-houses less than sixteen by eighteen feet on the ground, and fewer still larger than twenty-four by thirty feet, exclusive of our principal cities and villages. from a large number of actual measurements, not only in new york and michigan, but east of the hudson river and west of the great lakes, i conclude that, exclusive of entry and closets, when they are furnished with these appendages, school-houses are not usually larger than twenty by twenty-four feet on the ground, and seven feet in height. they are, indeed, more frequently smaller than larger. school-houses of these dimensions have a capacity of cubic feet, and are usually occupied by at least forty-five scholars in the winter season. not unfrequently sixty or seventy, and occasionally more than a hundred scholars occupy a room of this size. a simple arithmetical computation will abundantly satisfy any person who is acquainted with the composition of the atmosphere, the influence of respiration upon its fitness to sustain animal life, and the quantity of air that enters the lungs at each inspiration, that a school-room of the preceding dimensions contains quite too little air to sustain the healthy respiration of even _forty-five_ scholars three hours--the usual length of each session; and frequently the school-house is imperfectly ventilated between the sessions at noon, and sometimes for several days together. mark the following particulars: . the quantity of air breathed by forty-five persons in three hours, according to the data just given, is cubic feet. . _air once respired will not sustain animal life._ . the school-room was estimated to possess a capacity of cubic feet--_fifteen feet less than is necessary to sustain healthy respiration_. . were forty-five persons whose lungs possess the estimated capacity placed in an air-tight room of the preceding dimensions, and could they breathe pure air till it was all once respired, and then enter upon its second respiration, _they would all die with the apoplexy before the expiration of a three hours' session_. from the nature of the case, these conditions can not conveniently be fulfilled. but numerous instances of fearful approximation exist. we have no air-tight houses. but in our latitude, comfort requires that rooms which are to be occupied by children in the winter season, be made very close. the dimensions of rooms are, moreover, frequently narrowed, that the _warm breath_ may lessen the amount of fuel necessary to preserve a comfortable temperature. it is true, on the other hand, that the quantity of air which children breathe is somewhat less than i have estimated. but the derangement resulting from breathing impure air, in their case, is greater than in the case of adults whose constitutions are matured, and who are hence less susceptible of injury. it is also true in many schools that the number occupying a room of the dimensions supposed is considerably greater than i have estimated. moreover, in many instances, a great proportion of the larger scholars will respire the estimated quantity of air. again, all the air in a room is not respired _once_ before a portion of it is breathed the second, or even the _third_ and _fourth_ time. the atmosphere is not suddenly changed from purity to impurity--from a healthful to an infectious state. were it so, the change, being more perceptible, would be seen and _felt_ too, and a _remedy_ would be sought and applied. but because the change is gradual, it is not the less fearful in its consequences. in a room occupied by _forty-five persons_, the first minute, _thirty-two thousand four hundred cubic inches of air impart their entire vitality to sustain animal life, and, mingling with the atmosphere of the room, proportionately deteriorate the whole mass_. thus are abundantly sown in early life the fruitful seeds of disease and premature death. this detail shows conclusively sufficient cause for that uneasy, listless state of feeling which is so prevalent in crowded school-rooms. it explains why children that are amiable at home are mischievous in school, and why those that are troublesome at home are frequently well-nigh uncontrollable in school. it discloses the true cause why so many teachers who are justly considered both pleasant and amiable in the ordinary domestic and social relations, are obnoxious in the school-room, being there habitually sour and fretful. the ever-active children are disqualified for study, and engage in mischief as their only alternative. on the other hand, the irritable teacher, who can hardly look with complaisance upon good behavior, is disposed to magnify the most trifling departure from the rules of propriety. the scholars are continually becoming more ungovernable, and the teacher more unfit to govern them. week after week they become less and less attached to him, and he, in turn, becomes less interested in them. this detail explains, also, why so many children are unable to attend school at all, or become unwell so soon after commencing to attend, when their health is sufficient to engage in other pursuits. the number of scholars answering this description is greater than most persons are aware of. in one district that i visited a few years ago in the state of new york, it was acknowledged by competent judges to be emphatically true in the case of not less than _twenty-five scholars_. indeed, in that same district, the health of more than _one hundred_ scholars was materially injured every year in consequence of occupying an old and partially-decayed house, of too narrow dimensions, with very limited facilities for ventilation. the evil, even after the cause was made known, was suffered to exist for years, although the district was worth more than three hundred thousand dollars. and what _was_ true[ ] of this school, is now, with a few variations, true in the case of scores, if not hundreds of schools with which i am acquainted, from far-famed new england to the valley of the mississippi. [ ] in the district referred to there has since been erected a large and commodious union school house, which constitutes at once the pride and ornament of a beautiful and flourishing village. this detail likewise explains why the business of teaching has acquired, and _justly too_, the reputation of being unhealthy. there is, however, no reason why the health of either teacher or pupils should sooner fail in a well-regulated school, taught in a house properly constructed, and suitably warmed and ventilated, than in almost any other business. if this statement were not true, an unanswerable argument might be framed against the very _existence_ of schools; and it might clearly be shown that it is _policy_, nay, duty, to close at once and forever the four thousand school-houses of michigan, and the hundred thousand of the nation, and leave the rising generation to perish for lack of knowledge. but our condition in this respect is not hopeless. the evil in question may be effectually remedied by enlarging the house, or, which is easier, cheaper, and more effectual, by frequent and thorough ventilation. it would be well, however, to unite the two methods. in the winter of - , i visited a school in which the magnitude of the evil under consideration was clearly developed. five of the citizens of the district attended me in my visit to the school. we arrived at the school-house about the middle of the afternoon. it was a close, new house, eighteen by twenty-four feet on the ground--two feet less in one of its dimensions than the house concerning which the preceding calculation is made. there were present forty-three scholars, the teacher, five patrons, and myself, making fifty in all. immediately after entering the school-house, one of the trustees remarked to me, "i believe our school-house is too tight to be healthy." i made no reply, but secretly resolved that i would sacrifice my comfort for the remainder of the afternoon, and hazard my health, and my life even, to test the accuracy of the opinions i had entertained on this important subject. i marked the uneasiness and dullness of all present, and especially of the patrons, who had been accustomed to breathe a purer atmosphere. school continued an hour and a half, at the close of which i was invited to make some remarks. i arose to do so, but was unable to proceed till i opened the outer door, and snuffed a few times the purer air without. when i had partially recovered my wonted vigor, i observed with delight the renovating influence of the current of air that entered the door, mingling with and gradually displacing the fluid poison that filled the room, and was about to do the work of death. it seemed as though i was standing at the mouth of a huge sepulcher, in which the dead were being restored to life. after a short pause, i proceeded with a few remarks, chiefly, however, on the subject of respiration and ventilation. the trustees, who had just tested their accuracy and bearing upon their comfort and health, resolved immediately to provide for ventilation according to the suggestions in the article on school-houses in the last chapter of this work. before leaving the house on that occasion, i was informed an evening meeting had been attended there the preceding week, which they were obliged to dismiss before the ordinary exercises were concluded, because, as they said, "we all got sick, and the candles went almost out." little did they realize, probably, that the light of life became just as nearly extinct as did the candles. had they remained there a little longer, both would have gone out together, and there would have been reacted the memorable tragedy of the _black hole_ in calcutta, into which were thrust a garrison of one hundred and forty-six persons, one hundred and twenty-three of whom perished miserably in a few hours, being suffocated by the confined air. what has been said in the preceding pages on the philosophy of respiration was first given to the public nearly ten years ago, in a report of the author's in the state of new york. he has since seen the same sentiments inculcated by many of our most eminent practical educators, some of whom had written upon the subject at an earlier date. allen and pepy showed by experiment that air which has been once breathed contains eight and a half per cent. of carbonic acid, and that no continuance of the respiration of the same air could make it take up more than ten per cent. air, then, when once respired, has taken up more than _four fifths_ of the amount of this noxious gas that it can be made to by any number of breathings. dr. clark, in his work on consumption, remarks as follows: "were i to select two circumstances which influence the health, especially during the growth of the body, more than others, and concerning which the public, ignorant at present, ought to be well informed, they would be the proper adaptation of food to difference of age and constitution, and the constant supply of pure air for respiration." dr. william a. alcott, who has given especial attention to this subject, after quoting the preceding remark of dr. clark, adds: "we believe this is the opinion of all medical men who have studied the constitution of man, and its relation to outward objects." a distinguished surgeon[ ] of leeds, england, goes somewhat further in praising pure air than most of his contemporaries. "be it remembered," says he, "that man subsists more upon air than upon his food and drink." there is some novelty in this remark, i admit: but is it not truthful? men have been known to live _three weeks_ without eating. but exclude the atmospheric air from the lungs for the space of _three minutes_, and death generally ensues. we thus see that life will continue with abstinence from food three thousand times as long as it is safe to protract an atmospheric fast. [ ] dr. thackrah, author of a most valuable work on the "effects of employments on the health and longevity of mankind." let us take another view of the subject. men usually eat _three times_ in twenty-four hours. this is all that is necessary to, or compatible with, the enjoyment of uninterrupted good health. but we involuntarily breathe nearly _thirty thousand times_ in the same length of time. we need, then, fresh supplies of pure air ten thousand times as often as it is necessary to partake of meals. is it not apparent, then, that _man subsists more upon_ air _than upon his_ food _and_ drink? the atmosphere which we so frequently inhale, and upon which our well-being so much depends, surrounds the earth to the height of about forty-five miles. the surface of the earth contains about two hundred millions of square miles, and it is estimated that there dwell upon it eight hundred millions of inhabitants. this gives to each individual about eleven cubic miles of air. but the air is breathed by the inferior animals as well as by man. it is also rendered impure by combustion. if by both of these causes ten times as much air is consumed as by man, there is still left one cubic mile of uncontaminated atmospheric air to every human being dwelling upon the surface of the earth. this would allow him to live more than twice the age allotted to man, without breathing any portion of the atmosphere a second time. and still, as if to avoid the possibility of evil to man on this account, the beneficent creator has wisely so ordered, that while we do not interfere with the laws of nature, there is not even the possibility of rebreathing respired air until it has been purified and restored to its natural and healthful state; for carbonic acid, the vitiating product of respiration, although immediately _fatal_ to _animals_, constitutes the very _life_ of _vegetation_. when brought in contact with the upper surface of the green leaves of trees and plants, and acted upon by the direct solar rays, this gas is decomposed, and its carbon is absorbed to sustain, in part, the life of the plant, by affording it one element of its food, while the oxygen is liberated and restored to the atmosphere. vegetables and animals are thus perpetually interchanging kindly offices, and each flourishes upon that which is fatal to the other. it is in this way that the healthful state of the atmosphere is kept up. its equilibrium seems never to be disturbed, or, if disturbed at all, it is immediately restored by the mutual exchange of poison for aliment, which is constantly going on between the animal and vegetable worlds. this interchange of kindly offices is constantly going on all over the earth, even in the highest latitudes, and in the very depths of winter; for air which has been respired is rarefied, and, when thrown from the lungs, _ascends_, and is thus not only out of our reach, whereby we are protected from respiring it a second time, but this (to us) deadly poison falls into the great aërial current which is constantly flowing from the polar to the tropical regions, where it is converted into vegetable growth. the oxygen which is exhaled in the processes of tropical vegetation, heated and rarefied by the vertical rays of the sun, mounts to the upper regions of the atmosphere, and, falling into a returning current, in its appointed time revisits the higher latitudes. so wisely has the divine author ordered these processes, that air, in its natural state[ ] in any part of the world, does not contain more than _one half of one per cent._ of carbonic acid gas, although, as already stated, air which has been once respired contains _eight and a half per cent._ of this gas, which is at least seventeen times its natural quantity. [ ] it would be difficult to say whether carbonic acid gas is in the atmosphere constitutionally, or accidentally, or both.--_dr. wm. a. alcott's health tracts._ there are other agencies than carbonic acid gas which in civic life render the atmosphere impure. of this nature is carbureted hydrogen gas, which is produced in various ways. this, says dr. comstock, is immediately destructive to animal life, and will not support combustion. it exists in stagnant water, especially in warm weather, and is generated by the decomposition of vegetable products. dr. arnott expresses the conviction that the immediate and chief cause of many of the diseases which impair the bodily and mental health of the people, and bring a considerable portion prematurely to the grave, is the poison of atmospheric impurity, arising from the accumulation in and around their dwellings of the decomposing remnants of the substances used for food and in their arts, and of the impurities given out from their own bodies. if you allow the sources of aërial impurity to exist in or around dwellings, he continues, you are poisoning the people; and while many die at early ages of fevers and other acute diseases, the remainder will have their health impaired and their lives shortened. there are many instances on record where the progress of an epidemic has been speedily arrested by ventilation. a striking instance is given by the writer last quoted. "when i visited glasgow with mr. chadwick," says he, "there was described to us one vast lodging-house, in connection with a manufactory there, in which formerly fever constantly prevailed, but where, by making an opening from the top of each room through a channel of communication to an air-pump common to all the channels, the disease had disappeared altogether. the supply of pure air obtained by that mode of ventilation was sufficient to dilute the cause of the disease, so that it became powerless." sulphureted hydrogen gas is also exceedingly poisonous to the lungs and to every part of the system. when pure, this gas is described as instantly fatal to animal life. even when diluted with fifteen hundred times its bulk of air, it has been found so poisonous as to destroy a bird in a few seconds. "this gas," says dr. dunglison, in his elements of hygiene, "is extremely deleterious.[ ] when respired in a pure state it kills instantly; and its deadly agency is rapidly exerted when put in contact with any of the tissues of the body, through which it penetrates with astonishing rapidity. even when mixed with a portion of air, it has proved immediately destructive. dr. paris refers to the case of a chemist of his acquaintance, who was suddenly deprived of sense as he stood over a pneumatic trough in which he was collecting this gas. from the experiments of dupuytren and thenard, air that contains a thousandth part of sulphureted hydrogen kills birds immediately. a dog perished in air containing a hundredth part, and a horse in air containing a fiftieth part of it." [ ] sulphureted hydrogen gas is the deleterious agent exhaled from privies or vaults, which have been so fatal, at times, to night men, who have been employed to remove or cleanse them.--_dr. dunglison._ the preceding are far from being all the causes of atmospheric impurity. besides these, there are numerous exhalations, as well as gases, that are poisonous. some of these exhalations are more abundant in the night, and about the time of the morning and evening twilight. "hence the importance," says a writer on health, "to those who are feeble, of avoiding the air at all hours except when the sun is considerably above the horizon." although the atmosphere, in its natural state, is not at all times perfectly pure, still it is comparatively so, and especially in the daytime. all, therefore, who would retain and improve their health, should inhale the open air as much as possible, even though they can not, like franklin's methusalem,[ ] be always in it. this remark is applicable to both sexes, and to every age and condition of life. [ ] dr. franklin, in his usual humorous manner, but with his accustomed gravity, relates, in one of his essays, the following anecdote, for the purpose, doubtless, of showing the influence of pure air upon health, happiness, and longevity. "it is recorded of methusalem, who, being the longest liver, may be supposed to have best preserved his health, that he slept always in the open air; for when he had lived five hundred years, an angel said to him, arise, methusalem, and build thee a house, for thou shalt live yet five hundred years longer. but methusalem answered and said, if i am to live but five hundred years longer, it is not worth while to build me a house. i will sleep in the air as i have been accustomed to do." the following, from the pen of an american author[ ] who has written much and well on physical education, is pertinent to the subject under consideration: "we breathe bad air principally as the production of our own bodies. here is the source of a large share of human wo; and to this point must his attention be particularly directed who would save himself from disease, and promote, in the highest possible degree, his health and longevity. we must avoid breathing over the carbonic acid gas contained in the tight or unventilated rooms in which we labor or remain for a long time, whether parlors, school-rooms, counting-rooms, bed-rooms, shops, or factories. the individual who lives most according to nature--who observes with most care the laws of life and health--must necessarily throw off much carbonic acid from his lungs, if not from his skin. it does not follow, however, that because this gas is formed we are obliged to inhale it. we may change our position, change our clothing, ventilate our rooms of all sorts, shake up our bed-clothing often and air our bed, and use clean, loose, and porous clothing by night and by day. we may thus very effectually guard against injuries from a very injurious agent. [ ] from dr. william a. alcott's tract on breathing bad air. "one thing should be remembered in connection with this subject which is truly encouraging. the more we accustom ourselves to pure air, the more easily will our lungs and nasal organs detect its presence. he who has redeemed his senses and restored his lungs to integrity, like him who has redeemed a conscience once deadened, is so alive to every bad impression made upon any of these, that he can often detect impurity around or within him, and thus learn to avoid it. it will scarcely be possible for such a person long to breathe bad air, or nauseous or unwholesome effluvia, without knowing it, and learning to avoid the causes which produce it. such a person will not neglect long to remove the impurities which accumulate so readily on the surface of his body, or suffer himself to use food or drink which induces flatulence, and thus exposes either his intestines or his lungs, or the lungs of others, to that most extremely poisonous agent, sulphureted hydrogen gas. nor will he be likely to permit the accumulation of filth, liquid or solid, around or in his dwelling. there are those whose senses will detect a very small quantity of stagnant water, or vinegar, or other liquids, or fruit, or changed food in the house, or even the presence of those semi-putrid substances, wine and cider. but some will indeed say that such integrity of the senses would be an annoyance rather than a blessing. on the same principle, however, would a high degree of conscientiousness in regard to right and wrong in moral conduct be a curse to us. if it be desirable to have our physical sense of right and wrong benumbed, it is so to have our moral sense benumbed also. yet what person of sense ever complained of too tender a conscience, or too perfect a sense of right and wrong in morals?" exercise of the lungs.--judicious exercise of the lungs, in the opinion of that eminent physiologist, dr. andrew combe, is one of the most efficacious means which can be employed for promoting their development and warding off their diseases. in this respect the organs of respiration closely resemble the muscles and all other organized parts. they are made to be used, and if they are left in habitual inactivity, their strength and health are unavoidably impaired; while, if their exercise be ill-timed or excessive, disease will as certainly follow. the lungs may be exercised _directly_ by the use of the voice in speaking, reading aloud, or singing, and _indirectly_ by such kinds of bodily or muscular exertion as require quicker and deeper breathing. in general, both ought to be conjoined. but where the chief object is to improve the lungs, those kinds which have a tendency to expand the chest and call the organs of respiration into play ought to be especially preferred. rowing a boat, fencing, quoits, shuttlecock, the proper use of skipping the rope, dumb-bells, and gymnastics are of this description, and have been recommended for this purpose. all of them employ actively the muscles of the chest and trunk, and excite the lungs themselves to freer and fuller expansion. climbing up a hill is, for the same reason, an exercise of high utility in giving tone and freedom to the pulmonary functions. where, either from hereditary predisposition or accidental causes, the chest is unusually weak, every effort should be made, from infancy upward, to favor the growth and strength of the lungs, by the habitual use of such of these exercises as can most easily be practiced. the earlier they are resorted to, and the more steadily they are pursued, the more certainly will their beneficial results be experienced. if the _direct_ exercise of the lungs in practicing deep inspiration, speaking, reading aloud, and singing, is properly managed and persevered in, particularly before the frame has become consolidated, it will exert a very beneficial influence in expanding the chest, and giving tone and imparting health to the important organs contained in it. as a preventive measure, dr. clark, in his treatise on consumption and scrofula, recommends the full expansion of the chest in the following manner: "we desire the young person, while standing, to throw his arms and shoulders back, and, while in this position, to inhale slowly as much air as he can, and repeat this exercise at short intervals several times in succession. when this can be done in the open air it is most desirable, a double advantage being thus obtained from the practice. some exercise of this kind should be adopted daily by all young persons, more especially by those whose chests are narrow or deformed, and should be slowly and gradually increased." in this preventive measure recommended by dr. clark, some of our most eminent physiologists heartily concur. they also express the opinion that, for the same reason, even the crying and sobbing of children, when not caused by disease, contribute to their future health. dr. combe says, "the loud laugh and noisy exclamations attending the sports of the young have an evident relation to the same beneficial end, and ought, therefore, to be encouraged." but beneficial as the direct exercise of the lungs is thus shown to be, in expanding and strengthening the chest, its influence extends still further, and, as we have already seen, contributes greatly to promote the important process of digestion. if, therefore, the lungs be rarely called into active exercise, not only do _they_ suffer, but an important aid to digestion being withdrawn, the _stomach_ and _bowels_ also become weakened, and indigestion and costiveness ensue. the exercise of what has not unaptly been called vocal gymnastics, and the loud and distinct speaking enforced in many of our schools, not only fortify the vocal organs against the attacks of disease, but tend greatly to promote the general health. for this purpose, also, as well as for its social and moral influences, vocal music should be introduced into all our schools. that by these and like exercises deep inspirations and full expirations are encouraged, any one may become convinced who will attend to what passes in his own body while reading aloud a single paragraph. there is danger of exercising the lungs too much when disease exists in the chest. at such times, not only speaking, reading aloud, and singing, but ordinary muscular exertion, ought to be refrained from, or be regulated by professional advice. when a joint is sore or inflamed, we know that motion impedes its recovery. when the eye is affected, we, for a similar reason, shut out the light. so, when the stomach is disordered, we respect its condition, and are more careful about diet. the lungs demand a treatment founded on the same general principle. when inflamed, they should be exercised as little as possible. all violent exercise ought, therefore, to be refrained from during at least the active stages of a cold; but colds may often be entirely prevented at the time of exposure by a proper exercise of the lungs. in conversing with an eminent physician recently on this subject, he expressed the conviction that one of the most effectual methods of warding off a cold, when exposed by wet feet or otherwise, is to take frequent deep inhalations of air. by this means the carbonic acid, which the returning circulation deposits in the lungs, is not only more effectually disengaged, but, at the same time, the greater amount of oxygen that enters the lungs and combines with the blood quickens the circulation, and thus, imparting increased vitality to the system, enables it more effectually to resist any attack that may be induced by unusual exposure. a late medical writer, who has become quite celebrated in this country for the successful treatment of pulmonary consumption,[ ] expresses the opinion that, to the consumptive, air is a most excellent medicine, and "far more valuable than all other remedies." he thinks it "the grand agent in expanding the chest." in urging the importance of habitually maintaining an erect position, he expresses the conviction that "practice will soon make sitting or standing perfectly erect vastly more agreeable and less fatiguing than a stooping posture." to persons predisposed to consumption, these hints, he thinks, are of the greatest importance. while walking, he says, "the chest should be carried proudly erect and straight, the top of it pointing rather backward than forward." to illustrate the advantages of habitually maintaining this position, he refers to the north american indians, who never had consumption, and who are remarkable for their perfectly erect posture while walking. "next to this," he adds, "it is of vast importance to the consumptive to breathe well. he should make a practice of taking long breaths, sucking in all the air he can, and holding it in the chest as long as possible." he recommends the repetition of this a hundred times a day, and especially with those who have a slight cold or symptoms of weak lungs. when practiced in pure cold air, its advantages are most apparent. to increase the benefits resulting from this practice, he recommends the use of the "inhaling tube." he thinks that inhaling tubes made of silver or gold are much better than those made of wood or india-rubber. in this opinion i fully concur, for i think with him that gold and silver tubes will not so readily "contract any impure or poisonous matter." but there is another and a stronger reason why i prefer _silver_, and especially gold inhaling tubes, to those made of wood or india-rubber. _they would be more highly prized_ and more frequently used. [ ] s. s. fitch, m.d., author of "consumption cured." the same writer entertains the belief that about one third of all the consumptions originate from weakness of the abdominal belts. he hence, in such cases, recommends the use of the "abdominal supporter." in order to favor an erect posture and an open chest, he also recommends the use of "shoulder-braces." he says the proper use of these, with other remedies, will "entirely prevent the possibility of consumption, from whatever cause." the inhaling-tube, together with the shoulder-braces and supporter when needed, he says are perfect preventives, and should not be neglected; for if the shoulders are kept off the chest, and the abdomen is well supported, and then an inhaling tube is faithfully used, "the lungs can never become diseased. any person in this way, who chooses to take the trouble, can have a large chest and healthy lungs." when persons have contracted disease they may require these _artificial helps_; but it should be borne in mind that an all-wise and beneficent creator has kindly given to each of his creatures _two inhaling tubes_, admirably adapted to their wants. he has also furnished them with a set of _abdominal muscles_ which, when properly used, have generally been found to supersede the necessity of artificial "supporters." he has, moreover, in the plenitude of his goodness, furnished each member of the human family with a good pair of _shoulder-braces_. it should also be borne in mind that nature's shoulder-braces _improve by use_, while the artificial ones not only soon fail, but their very use generally impairs the healthy action of the natural ones; for these, like all other muscles, improve by use and become enfeebled by disuse. parents and teachers, then, and all who have the care of the young, should encourage the correct use of nature's inhaling tubes, shoulder-braces, and abdominal supporters; for in this way they have it in their power not only to supersede the necessity of resorting to artificial ones later in life, but of preventing much of human misery, and contributing to the permanent elevation of the race. chapter v. the nature of intellectual and moral education. in the cultivation and expansion of the faculties of the mind, we act altogether upon _organized matter_--and this, too, of the most delicate kind--which, while it serves as the mediator between _body_ and _spirit_, partakes so largely of the nature, character, and essential attributes of the _former_, that, without its proper physical growth and development, all the manifestations of the _latter_ sink into comparative insignificance; so that, without a perfect organization of the _brain_, the mental powers must be proportionally paralyzed; without _its_ maintaining a healthy condition, _they_ must be rendered proportionally weak and inactive.[ ]--dr. j. l. peirce. it has already been stated that there exists such an intimate connection between physical, intellectual, and moral education, that, in order duly to appreciate the importance of either, we must not view it separate and alone merely, but in connection with both of the others. however much value, then, we may attach to physical education on its own account, considering man as a corporeal being, we shall have occasion greatly to magnify its importance as we direct our attention to the cultivation and development of his mental faculties. we have no means of becoming acquainted with the laws which govern independent mind; but that mind separate from body is, from its very nature, all-knowing and intelligent, is an opinion that has obtained to a considerable extent. be this as it may, it does not immediately concern us in the present state. this much we know, that embodied mind acquires knowledge slowly, and with a degree of perfection depending upon the condition of the brain and the bodily organs of sense, through the medium of which mind communicates with the external world. we do not even know whether education modifies the mind itself; and, if at all, how it affects it in its disembodied state. neither is it important that we should possess this knowledge. there is, however, much reason for believing that the mind of man in the future state will be permanently affected by, and enjoy the full benefit of, the preparatory training it has received in this life; that then, as now, it will be progressive in its attainments; and that the rapidity with which it will then acquire knowledge, and the nature of its pursuits, will depend upon the degree of cultivation, and the habits and character formed in this life. [ ] from an essay upon the physical and intellectual education of children, written by request of the managers of the pennsylvania lyceum. from what we know of the beneficent and all-wise creator, as manifested in his word and works, we have abundant reason for believing that our highest and enduring good will be best promoted by becoming acquainted with, and yielding a cheerful obedience to, the laws of organic mind. whatever the effect of education upon independent mind may be, we may rest well assured that man's everlasting well-being in the future state will be most directly and certainly reached by a strict conformity to those laws which regulate mind in its present mode of being. it should be borne in mind, also, that just in proportion as man remains ignorant of those laws, or, knowing them, disregards them, will he fail to secure his best good in this life not only, but in that which is to come, to an extent corresponding with the influence which education may exert upon independent mind. in order, then, most successfully to carry forward the great work of intellectual and moral culture, and to secure to man the fullest benefits of education in the present life, and in that higher mode of being which awaits him in the future, we have only to acquaint him with the laws by which embodied mind is governed, and to induce him to yield a ready, cheerful, and uniform obedience to those laws. we shall therefore devote the following pages to an inquiry into the laws which must be observed by embodied mind in order to render it the fittest possible instrument for discovering, applying, and obeying the laws under which god has placed the universe, which constitutes the one great object of education, when considered in its widest and true sense. all physiologists and philosophers regard the brain as the organ of the mind. although it is not befitting here to give a particular description of this complicated organ, still it may be well further to premise that, by nearly universal consent, it is regarded as the immediate seat of the _intellectual_ faculties not only, but of the passions and moral feelings of our nature, as well as of consciousness and every other mental act. it is also well established that the brain is the principal source of that nervous influence which is essential to vitality, and to the action of each and all of our bodily organs. as, then, its functions are the highest and most important in the animal economy, it becomes an object of paramount importance in education to discover the laws by which they are regulated, that by yielding obedience to them we may avoid the evils consequent on their violation. let no one suppose these evils are few or small; for, in the language of an eloquent writer, "the system of education which is generally pursued in the united states is unphilosophical in its elementary principles, ill adapted to the condition of man, practically mocks his necessities, and is intrinsically absurd. the high excellences of the present system, in other respects, are fully appreciated. modern education has indeed achieved wonders. it has substituted things for names, experiment for hypothesis, first principles for arbitrary rules. it has simplified processes, stripped knowledge of its abstraction and thrown it into visibility, made practical results rather than mystery the standard by which to measure the value of attainment, and facts rather than conjecture its circulating medium."[ ] [ ] report on manual labor, by theodore d. weld, . _a sound original constitution_ may be regarded as the first condition of the healthy action of the brain; for, being a part of the animal economy, it is subject to the same general laws that govern the other bodily organs. when a healthy brain is transmitted to children, and their treatment from infancy is judicious and rational, its health becomes so firmly established that, in after life, its power of endurance will be greatly increased, and it will be enabled most effectually to ward off the insidious attacks of disease. on the other hand, where this organ has either inherited deficiencies and imperfections, or where they have been subsequently induced by early mismanagement, it becomes peculiarly susceptible, and frequently yields to the slightest attacks. the most eminent physiologists of the age concur in the opinion that, of all the causes which predispose to nervous and mental disease, the transmission of hereditary tendency from parents to children is the most powerful, producing, as it does, in the children, an unusual liability to those maladies under which their parents have labored. when both parents are descended from tainted families, their progeny, as a matter of course, will be more deeply affected than where one of them is from a pure stock. this sufficiently accounts for the fact that hereditary predisposition is a more common cause of nervous disease in those circles that intermarry much with each other than where a wider choice is exercised. fortunately, such is the constitution of society in this country, that there are fewer evils of this kind among us than are manifest in many of the european states, where intermarriages are restricted to persons of the same rank, as has already been illustrated by reference to the grandees of spain, who have become a race of dwarfs intellectually as well as physically. but even in this country there are painful illustrations of the truth of the popular belief that when cousins intermarry their offspring are liable to be idiotic. the command of god not to marry within certain degrees of consanguinity is, then, in accordance with the organic laws of our being, and the wisdom of the prohibition is abundantly confirmed by observation. what was said of hereditary transmission in the second chapter of this work applies here with increased force. it is of the highest possible importance that this subject should receive the especial attention of every parent, and of all who may hereafter sustain the parental relation; for posterity, to the latest generations, will be affected by the laws of hereditary transmission, whether those laws are understood and obeyed or not. the importance of this subject, already inconceivably vast, becomes infinitely momentous in view of the probability that the evils under consideration are not confined to this life, but must, from the nature of the case, continue to be felt while mind endures. unfortunately, it is not merely as a cause of disease that hereditary predisposition is to be dreaded. the obstacles which it throws in the way of permanent recovery are even more formidable, and can never be entirely removed. safety is to be found only in avoiding the perpetuation of the mischief. when, therefore, two persons, each naturally of an excitable and delicate nervous temperament, choose to unite for life, they have themselves to blame for the concentrated influence of similar tendencies in destroying the health of their offspring, and subjecting them to all the miseries of nervous disease, melancholy, or madness. there is another consideration that should be noticed here: it is this. even where no hereditary defect exists, the state of the mother during pregnancy has an influence on the mental character and health of the offspring, of which even _few parents_ have any adequate conception. "it is often in the maternal womb that we are to look for the true cause not only of imbecility, but of the different kinds of mania. during the agitated periods of the french revolution, many ladies then pregnant, and whose minds were kept constantly on the stretch by the anxiety and alarm inseparable from the epoch in which they lived, and whose nervous systems were thereby rendered irritable in the highest degree compatible with sanity, were afterward delivered of infants whose brains and nervous systems had been affected to such a degree by the state of their parent, that, in future life, as children they were subject to spasms, convulsions, and other nervous affections, and in youth to imbecility or madness, almost without any exciting cause."[ ] [ ] the testimony of m. esquirol, whose talent, general accuracy, and extensive experience give great weight to all his well-considered opinions, quoted, also, and confirmed by the physician extraordinary to the queen in scotland, and consulting physician to the king and queen of the belgians. the same eminent author has recorded the following fact, illustrating the extent to which the temporary state of the mother, during gestation, may influence the _whole future life of the child_. a pregnant woman, otherwise healthy, was greatly alarmed and terrified by the threats of her husband when in a state of intoxication. she was afterward delivered, at the proper time, of a very delicate child, which was so much affected by its mother's agitation that, up to the age of eighteen, it continued subject to panic terrors, and then became completely maniacal. many illustrative instances might be quoted from medical writers in this and other countries. the author might also refer to cases that have fallen under his own observation. dr. caldwell, too, an able and philanthropic advocate of an improved system of physical, intellectual, and moral education in this country, is very urgent in enforcing rational care, during the period of gestation, on the part of every mother who values the future health and happiness of her offspring. among other things, he insists on mothers taking more active exercise in the open air than they usually do. he also cautions them against allowing a feeling of false delicacy to keep them confined in their rooms for weeks and months together. at such times especially the mind ought to be kept free from gloom or anxiety, and in that state of cheerful activity which results from the proper exercise of the intellect, and especially of the moral and social feelings. but if seclusion and depression be hurtful to the unborn progeny, surely thoughtless dissipation and late hours, dancing and waltzing, together with irritability of temper and peevishness of disposition, can not be less injurious. every female that is about to become a mother should treasure up the remark of that sensible lady, the margravine of anspach, who says, "when a female is likely to become a mother, she ought to be doubly careful of her temper, and, in particular, to indulge no ideas that are not cheerful and no sentiments that are not kind. such is the connection between the mind and the body, that the features of the face are moulded commonly into an expression of the internal disposition; and is it not natural to think that an infant, before it is born, may be affected by the temper of its mother?" if these things are true--and they are as well authenticated as any physiological facts are or can be--then not only _mothers_, but all with whom they associate, and especially _fathers_, are interested in knowing these important physiological laws; and they should aim, from the very beginning, so to observe them as to secure to posterity, physically and mentally, the full benefits that are connected with cheerful obedience. _a due supply of properly oxygenated blood_ is another condition upon which the healthy action of the brain depends. although it may not be easy to perceive the effects of slight differences in the quality of the blood, still, when these differences exist in a considerable degree, the effects are too obvious to be overlooked. withdraw entirely the stimulus of arterial blood, and the brain ceases to act, and sensibility and consciousness become extinct. when carbonic acid gas is inhaled, the blood circulating through the lungs does not undergo that process of oxygenation which is essential to life, as has been explained in a preceding chapter. as the venous blood in this unchanged state is unfit to excite or sustain the action of the brain, the mental functions become impaired, and death speedily ensues, as in the case of a number of persons breathing a portion of confined air, or inhaling the fumes of charcoal. on the other hand, if oxygen gas be inhaled instead of common air, the blood becomes too much oxygenated, and, as a consequence, the brain is unduly stimulated, and an intensity of action bordering on inflammation takes place, which also soon terminates in death. these are extreme cases, i admit; but their consequences are equally remarkable and fatal. the slighter variations in the state of the blood produce equally sure, though less palpable effects. whenever its vitality is impaired by breathing an atmosphere so vitiated as not to produce the proper degree of oxygenation, the blood can only afford an imperfect stimulus to the brain. as a necessary consequence, languor and inactivity of the mental and nervous functions ensue, and a tendency to headache, fainting, or hysteria makes its appearance. this is seen every day in the listlessness and apathy prevalent in crowded and ill-ventilated school-rooms, and in the headaches and liability to fainting which are so sure to attack persons of a delicate habit, in the contaminated atmospheres of crowded theaters, churches, and assemblies of whatever kind. the same effects, although less strikingly apparent, are perhaps more permanently felt by the inmates of cotton manufactories and public hospitals, who are noted for being irritable and sensitive. the languor and nervous debility consequent on confinement in ill-ventilated apartments, or in air vitiated by the breath of many people, are neither more nor less than minor degrees of the process of poisoning, which was particularly explained in the preceding chapter, while treating upon the philosophy of respiration. that it is not real debility which produces these effects, is apparent from the fact, that egress to the open air almost instantly restores activity and vigor to both mind and body, unless the exposure has been very long. there is an interesting but fearful illustration of the truth of this statement at the th page of this work, to which i beg leave to refer. where the exposure has been very long continued, more time is of course required to re-establish the exhausted powers of the brain. indeed, we may not, in such cases, hope for complete recovery; for when persons remain several hours a day in a vitiated atmosphere, for weeks and months together, both mind and body become permanently diseased. it is well known to every person who has given attention to the subject, that hitherto this has been the condition of _public schools_, generally, in every part of the united states, and throughout the civilized world. this has, perhaps, tended more than all other causes combined, to render the profession of teaching disreputable, and to constitute the very name of schoolmaster, or pedagogue, a hissing and a by-word. and why is this? i can account for it in but one way. the school teacher is subject to the _same organic laws as other men_; and, either on account of the ignorance or parsimony of his employers, he has been shut up with _their_ children several hours a day, in narrow and ill-ventilated apartments, where, whatever else they may have done, their principal business has of necessity been _to poison one another to death_. and, as if not satisfied with this, when the teacher has ruined his health in our employment, and become a mere wreck, physically and mentally, _we despise him_. this is a double injustice, and _is_ adding insult to injury. and the consequences are hardly less fatal to the children. the situation of the majority of our schools, when viewed in connection with the physiological laws already explained, sufficiently accounts for that irritability, listlessness, and languor which have been so often observed in both teachers and pupils. both irritability of the nervous system and dullness of the intellect are unquestionably the direct and necessary result of a want of pure air. the vital energies of the pupils are thus prostrated, and they become not only restless and _indisposed to study_, but absolutely _incapable of studying_. their minds hence wander, and they unavoidably seek relief in mischievous and disorderly conduct. this doubly provokes the already exasperated teacher, who can hardly look with complaisance upon good behavior, and who, from a like cause, is in the same irritable condition of both body and mind with themselves. he, too, must needs give vent to his irascible feelings some how. and what way is more natural, under such circumstances, than to resort to the use of the ferule, the rod, and the strap! we have already referred to a case, in which formerly fever constantly prevailed, but where disease disappeared altogether upon the introduction of _pure air_. let the same prudential course be adopted in our schools, in connection with other appropriate means, and we shall readily see the superiority of the natural stimulus of oxygen over the artificial sedative of the rod. _the regular and systematic exercise of the functions of the brain_ is another condition upon which its healthy action depends. the brain is an organized part, and is subject to precisely the same laws of exercise that the other bodily organs are. if it is doomed to inactivity, its health decays, and the mental operations and feelings, as a necessary consequence, become dull, feeble, and slow. but let it be duly exercised after regular intervals of repose, and the mind acquires activity and strength. too severe or too protracted exercise of the brain is as great a violation of the organic law just stated as inactivity is, and is sometimes productive of the most fearful consequences. by over-tasking this organ, either in the force or duration of its activity, its functions become impaired, and irritability and disease take the place of health and vigor. so important is the law under consideration, and so essential to the health of the brain and to the welfare of man, that i deem it advisable to explain more particularly the consequences of both inadequate and excessive exercise. we have seen that by disuse the muscles become emaciated and the bones soften. the blood-vessels, in like manner, become obliterated, and the nerves lose their characteristic structure. _the brain is no exception to this general rule._ its tone is impaired by permanent inactivity, and it becomes less fit to manifest the mental powers with readiness and energy. nor will this surprise any reflecting person, who considers that the brain, as a part of the same animal system, is nourished by the same blood, and regulated by the same vital laws as the muscles, bones, arteries, and nerves. it is the withdrawal of the stimulus necessary to the healthy exercise of the brain, and the consequent weakening and depressing effect produced upon this organ, that renders solitary confinement so severe a punishment even to the most daring minds. it is a lower degree of the same cause that renders continuous seclusion from society so injurious to both mental and physical health. this explains why persons who are cut off from social converse by some bodily infirmity so frequently become discontented and morose, in spite of every resolution to the contrary. the feelings and faculties of the mind, which had formerly full play in their intercourse with their fellow-creatures, have no longer scope for sufficient exercise, and the almost inevitable result is irritability and weakness in the corresponding parts of the brain. this fact is strikingly illustrated by reference to the deaf and blind, who, by the loss of one or more of the senses, are precluded from a full participation in all the varied sources of interest which their more favored brethren enjoy without abatement, and in whom irritability, weakness of mind, and idiocy are known to be much more prevalent than among other classes of people. "the deaf and dumb," says andral, "presents, in intelligence, character, and the development of his passions, certain modifications, which depend on his state of isolation in the midst of society. he remains habitually in a state of half childishness, is very credulous, but, like the savage, remains free from many of the prejudices acquired in society. in him the tender feelings are not deep; he appears susceptible neither of strong attachment nor of lively gratitude; pity moves him feebly; he has little emulation, few enjoyments, and few desires. this is what is commonly observed in the deaf and dumb; but the picture is far from being of universal application; some, more happily endowed, are remarkable for the great development of their intellectual and moral nature; but others, on the contrary, remain immersed in complete idiocy." andral adds, that we must not infer from this that the deaf and dumb are therefore constitutionally inferior in mind to other men. "_their powers are not developed, because they live isolated from society. place them, by some means or other, in relation with their fellow-men, and they will become their equals._" this is the cause of the rapid brightening up of both mind and features, which is so often observed in blind or deaf children when transferred from home to public institutions, and there taught the means of converse with their fellows. i have myself witnessed several striking illustrations of the benefits resulting from mental culture in persons who have lost one or more of their senses. among these i would especially instance the american asylum at hartford for the education and instruction of the deaf and dumb, and the perkins institution and massachusetts asylum for the blind, located at south boston, to the accomplished principals and teachers of both of which institutions i would acknowledge my indebtedness for valuable reports and the information of various kinds which they obligingly communicated to me at the time of my visits during the past summer. dr. howe, the accomplished director of the asylum for the blind, after many years of experience and careful observation in this country and in europe, expresses the conviction that _the blind, as a class, are inferior to other persons in mental power and ability_. the opinions put forth in almost every report of the institutions for the blind in this country, in almost all books on the subject, and even the doctor's earlier writings, may be brought to disprove this statement. he is now, nevertheless, fully convinced that it will be found true. this erroneous conviction, every where so prevalent, may be accounted for from the fact that none but intelligent parents of blind children could at first comprehend the possibility of their being educated, and even _they_ would not think of trying the experiment except upon a child of more than ordinary ability. as soon, however, as the experiment proved successful, and institutions for the blind became generally known, the blind, without distinction--the bright and the backward, the bold and the timid--resorted to them, which gave an opportunity of judging of the _whole class_. the result is, that now, while the schools for the blind present a certain number of children who make more rapid progress in _intellectual studies_ than the average of seeing children, they also present a much larger number who are decidedly inferior to them in both physical and mental vigor. the loss of one sense makes us exercise the others so constantly and so effectually as to acquire a power quite unknown to common persons. this goes far to compensate the blind man who is in the pursuit of knowledge, and enables him to learn vastly more of _some_ subjects than other men; but there are capacities of his nature which can never be developed. perfect harmony in the exercise and development of his mental faculties he can never possess, any more than he can exhibit perfect physical beauty and proportion. the proposition that the blind, _as a class_, are inferior in mental power and ability to ordinary persons, has been established beyond a doubt. take an equal number of blind and seeing persons, of as nearly the same age and situation in life as may be, and it has been established by well authenticated data, that when all the blind have died, there will still be about half of the seeing ones alive. in other words, the chance of life among the blind is only about half what it is among the seeing. the standard of bodily health and vigor, then, being so much lower among the blind, the inevitable inference is that mental power and ability will be proportionably less also; for such is the dependence of the mind upon the body, that there can be no continuance of mental health and vigor without bodily health and vigor. it is also true that _the deaf and dumb, as a class, are inferior to other persons in mental power and ability_. the general reasons for this are the same as those already given in the case of blind persons, and need not hence be repeated. the truth of this proposition is established beyond a doubt by the concurrent testimony of those who have had the greatest experience with this unfortunate class of persons both in this country and in europe. the report of the directors of the american asylum for the year shows that two pupils had died during the year. one of these had an affection of the lungs which terminated in consumption, and the disease of the other was dropsy on the brain. in a third, hereditary consumption was rapidly developing itself. others, still, had been subject to more or less of bodily indisposition. after speaking of the case of a young man in whom _hereditary consumption_ had been rapidly developed, the following statement is introduced: "this great destroyer of our race is found extensively in europe, as well as in our own country, to be a _common disease among the deaf and dumb_. it is brought on by scrofula, by fevers, by violent colds, and by various other causes; and there is often, no doubt, _a hereditary tendency to it in families connected by blood_". if this is the effect of the loss of one of the senses upon the _bodily health_, keeping in view the principle already stated, we shall naturally enough be led to inquire what the influence is upon the _health of the mind_. a careful examination of the educational statistics of several states has convinced me that an unusually large proportion of the deaf and dumb--and perhaps an equally large proportion of the blind, and especially those who have remained uneducated and unenlightened--have been visited with mental derangement, and have _lived and died insane_. this is easily accounted for. uneducated persons, who are deprived of one or more of the senses, are isolated from the world in which they live. the book of nature is open before them, but they are unable to peruse it. the simplest operations constantly going on around them are locked in mystery. they are an enigma to themselves. even those who are endowed with inquisitive minds are perplexed with the existing state of things. they know nothing of the physical organization of the planet we inhabit, of its political and civil divisions, and of the whole machinery of human society, and are profoundly ignorant of the past history and future destiny of the race to which they belong. it is not remarkable that mind so unnaturally and peculiarly circumstanced--with its usual inlets of knowledge so obstructed, and deprived of external objects to act upon--should prey upon itself, and thus superinduce insanity in its usual forms, and more especially when unaided and undirected by education. keeping the same principle in view, we shall not be surprised to find that _want of exercise_ of the brain and nervous system, or, in other words, that inactivity of intellect and feeling, is a very frequent predisposing cause of every form of nervous disease, even with those who have not been deprived of any of their senses. for demonstrative evidence of this position, we have only to look at the numerous victims to be found among females of the middle and higher ranks, who have no call to exertion in gaining the means of subsistence, and no objects of interest on which to exercise their mental faculties, and who consequently sink into a state of mental sloth and nervous weakness, which not only deprives them of much enjoyment, but subjects them to suffering, both of body and mind, from the slightest causes. in looking abroad upon society, we find innumerable examples of mental and nervous debility from this cause. when a person of some mental capacity is confined for a long time to an unvarying round of employment, which affords neither scope nor stimulus for one half of his faculties, and, from want of education or society, has no external resources, his mental powers, for want of exercise to keep up due vitality in their cerebral organs, become blunted, and his perceptions slow and dull. unusual subjects of thought become to him disagreeable and painful. the intellect and feelings not being provided with interests external to themselves, must either become inactive and weak, or work upon themselves and become diseased. but let the situation of such persons be changed; bring them, for instance, from the listlessness of retirement to the business and bustle of a city; give them a variety of imperative employments, and place them in society so as to supply to their cerebral organs that extent of exercise which gives health and vivacity of action, and in a few months the change produced will be surprising. health, animation, and acuteness will take the place of former insipidity and dullness. in such instances, it would be absurd to suppose that it is the _mind itself_ which becomes heavy and feeble, and again revives into energy by these changes in external circumstances. the effects arise entirely from changes in the state of the _brain_, and the mental manifestations and the bodily health have been improved solely by the improvement of its condition. the evils arising from excessive or ill-timed exercise of the brain, or any of its parts, are numerous, and equally in accordance with the ordinary laws of physiology. when we use the eye too long or in too bright a light, it becomes bloodshot, and the increased action of its vessels and nerves gives rise to a sensation of fatigue and pain requiring us to desist. if we turn away and relieve the eye, the irritation gradually subsides, and the healthy state returns; but if we continue to look intently, or resume our employment before the eye has regained its natural state by repose, the irritation at last becomes permanent, and disease, followed by weakness of sight, or even blindness, may ensue, as often happens to glass-blowers, smiths, and others who are obliged to work in an intense light. precisely analogous phenomena occur when, from intense mental excitement, the brain is kept long in a state of excessive activity. the only difference is, that we can always see what happens in the eye, but rarely what takes place in the brain. occasionally, however, cases of fracture of the skull occur, in which, part of the bone being removed, we _can see_ the quickened circulation in the vessels of the brain as easily as in those of the eye. sir astley cooper had a young gentleman brought to him who had lost a portion of his skull just above the eyebrow. "on examining the head," says sir astley, "i distinctly saw that the pulsation of the brain was regular and slow; but at this time he was agitated by some opposition to his wishes, and directly the blood was sent with increased force to the brain, and the pulsation became frequent and violent." sir astley hence concludes that, in the treatment of injuries of the brain, if you omit to keep the mind free from agitation, your other means will be unavailing. a still more remarkable case is said to have occurred in the hospital of montpellier in . the subject of it was a female who had lost a large portion of her scalp, skull-bone, and dura mater. a corresponding portion of her brain was consequently bare, and subject to inspection. when she was in a dreamless sleep, her brain was motionless, and lay within the cranium; but when her sleep was imperfect, and she was agitated by dreams, her brain moved and protruded without the cranium. in vivid dreams the protrusion was considerable; and when she was awake and engaged in active thought or sprightly conversation, it was still greater. in alluding to this subject, dr. caldwell remarks, that if it were possible, without doing an injury to other parts, to augment the constant afflux of healthy arterial blood to the brain, the mental operations would be invigorated by it. this position is illustrated by reference to the fact that when a public speaker is flushed and heated in debate, his mind works more freely and powerfully than at any other time. and why? because his brain is in better tune. what has thus suddenly improved its condition? an increased current of blood into it, produced by the excitement of its own increased action. that the blood does, on such occasions, flow more copiously into the brain, no one can doubt who is at all acquainted with the cerebral sensations which the orator himself experiences at the time, or who witnesses the unusual fullness and flush of his countenance, and the dewiness, flashing, and protrusion of his eye. indeed, in many instances, the increased circulation in the brain attendant on high mental excitement reveals itself by its effects when least expected, and leaves traces after death which are but too legible. many are the instances in which public men have been suddenly arrested in their career by the inordinate action of the brain induced by incessant toil, and more numerous still are those whose mental power has been forever impaired by similar excess. it is generally known that the eye, when tasked beyond its strength, becomes insensible to light, and ceases to convey impressions to the mind. the brain, in like manner, when much exhausted, becomes incapable of thought, and consciousness is well-nigh lost in a feeling of utter confusion. at any time in life, excessive and continued mental exertion is hurtful; but in infancy and early youth, when the structure of the brain is still immature and delicate, permanent injury is more easily produced by injudicious treatment than at any subsequent period. in this respect, the analogy is complete between the brain and the other parts of the body, as we have already seen exemplified in the injurious effects of premature exercise of the bones and muscles. scrofulous and rickety children are the most usual sufferers in this way. they are generally remarkable for large heads, great precocity of understanding, and small, delicate bodies. but in such instances, the great size of the brain, and the acuteness of the mind, are the results of morbid growth, and even with the best management, the child passes the first years of its life constantly on the brink of active disease. instead, however, of trying to repress its mental activity, as they should, the fond parents, misled by the promise of genius, too often excite it still further by unceasing cultivation and the never-failing stimulus of praise; and finding its progress, for a time, equal to their warmest wishes, they look forward with ecstasy to the day when its talents will break forth and shed a luster on their name. but in exact proportion as the picture becomes brighter to their fancy, the probability of its becoming realized becomes less; for the brain, worn out by premature exertion, either becomes diseased or loses its tone, leaving the mental powers feeble and depressed for the remainder of life. the expected prodigy is thus, in the end, easily outstripped in the social race by many whose dull outset promised him an easy victory. to him who takes for his guide the necessities of the constitution, it will be obvious that the modes of treatment commonly resorted to should in such cases be reversed; and that, instead of straining to the utmost the already irritable powers of the precocious child, leaving his dull competitors to ripen at leisure, a systematic attempt ought to be made, from early infancy, to rouse to action the languid faculties of the latter, while no pains should be spared to moderate and give tone to the activity of the former. but instead of this, the prematurely intelligent child is generally sent to school, and tasked with lessons at an unusually early age, while the healthy but more backward boy, who requires to be stimulated, is kept at home in idleness merely on account of his backwardness. a double error is here committed, and the consequences to the active-minded boy are not unfrequently the permanent loss both of health and of his envied superiority of intellect. in speaking of children of this description, dr. brigham, in an excellent little work on the influence of mental excitement on health, remarks as follows: "dangerous forms of scrofulous disease among children have repeatedly fallen under my observation, for which i could not account in any other way than by supposing that the brain had been excited at the expense of the other parts of the system, and at a time in life when nature is endeavoring to perfect all the organs of the body; and after the disease commenced, i have seen, with grief, the influence of the same cause in retarding or preventing recovery. i have seen several affecting and melancholy instances of children, five or six years of age, lingering a while with diseases from which those less gifted readily recover, and at last dying, notwithstanding the utmost efforts to restore them. during their sickness they constantly manifested a passion for books and mental excitement, and were admired for the maturity of their minds. the chance for the recovery of such precocious children is, in my opinion, small when attacked by disease; and several medical men have informed me that their own observations had led them to form the same opinion, and have remarked that, in two cases of sickness, if one of the patients was a child of superior and highly-cultivated mental powers, and the other one equally sick, but whose mind had not been excited by study, they should feel less confident of the recovery of the former than of the latter. this mental precocity results from an unnatural development of one organ of the body at the expense of the constitution." there can be little doubt but that ignorance on the part of parents and teachers is the principal cause that leads to the too early and excessive cultivation of the minds of children, and especially of such as are precocious and delicate. hence the necessity of imparting instruction on this subject to both parents and teachers, and to all persons who are in any way charged with the care and education of the young. this necessity becomes the more imperative from the fact that the cupidity of authors and publishers has led to the preparation of "children's books," many of which are announced as purposely prepared "for children from _two_ to _three_ years old!" i might instance advertisements of "infant manuals" of botany, geometry, and astronomy! in not a few isolated families, but in many neighborhoods, villages, and cities, in various parts of the country, children _under three years of age_ are not only required to commit to memory many verses, texts of scripture, and stories, but are frequently sent to school for six hours a day. few children are kept back later than the age of _four_, unless they reside a great distance from school, and some not even then. at home, too, they are induced by all sorts of excitement to learn additional tasks, or peruse juvenile books and magazines, till the nervous system becomes enfeebled and the health broken. "i have myself," says dr. brigham, "seen many children who are supposed to possess almost miraculous mental powers, experiencing these effects and sinking under them. some of them died early, when but six or eight years of age, but manifested to the last a maturity of understanding, which only increased the agony of separation. their minds, like some of the fairest flowers, were 'no sooner blown than blasted;' others have grown up to manhood, but with feeble bodies and disordered nervous system, which subjected them to hypochondriasis, dyspepsy, and all the protean forms of nervous disease; others of the class of early prodigies exhibit in manhood but small mental powers, and are the mere passive instruments of those who in early life were accounted far their inferiors." this hot-bed system of education is not confined to the united states, but is practiced less or more in all civilized countries. dr. combe, of scotland, gives an account of one of these early prodigies whose fate he witnessed. the circumstances were exactly such as those above described. the prematurely developed intellect was admired, and constantly stimulated by injudicious praise, and by daily exhibition to every visitor who chanced to call. entertaining books were thrown in its way, reading by the fireside encouraged, play and exercise neglected, the diet allowed to be full and heating, and the appetite pampered by every delicacy. the results were the speedy deterioration of a weak constitution, a high degree of nervous sensibility, deranged digestion, disordered bowels, defective nutrition, and, lastly, _death_, at the very time when the interest excited by the mental precocity was at its height. such, however, is the ignorance of the majority of parents and teachers on all physiological subjects, that when one of these infant prodigies dies from erroneous treatment, it is not unusual to publish a memoir of his life, that other parents and teachers may see by what means such transcendent qualities were called forth. dr. brigham refers to a memoir of this kind, in which the history of a child, aged four years and eleven months, is narrated as approved by "several judicious persons, ministers and others, all of whom united in the request that it might be published, and all agreed in the opinion that a knowledge of the manner in which the child was treated, together with the results, would be profitable to both parents and children, and a benefit to the cause of education." this infant philosopher was "taught hymns before he could speak plainly;" "reasoned with" and constantly instructed until his last illness, which, "_without any assignable cause_," put on a violent and unexpected form, and carried him off! as a _warning to others_ not to force education too soon or too fast, this case may be truly profitable to both parents and children, and a benefit to the cause of education; but _as an example to be followed_, it assuredly can not be too strongly or too loudly condemned. while i speak thus strongly, i am ready to admit that infant schools in which physical health and moral training are duly attended to are excellent institutions, and are particularly advantageous where parents, from want of leisure or from other causes, are unable to bestow upon their children that attention which their tender years require. in youth, too, much mischief is done by the long daily periods of attendance at school, and the continued application of mind which the ordinary system of education requires. the law of exercise already more than once repeated, that _long-sustained action exhausts the vital powers of an organ_, applies as well to the brain as to the muscles. hence the necessity of varying the occupations of the young, and allowing frequent intervals of active exercise in the open air, instead of enforcing the continued confinement now so common. this exclusive attention to mental culture fails, as might be expected, even in its essential object; for all experience shows that, with a rational distribution of employment and exercise, a child will make greater progress in a given period than in double the time employed in continuous mental exertion. if the human being were made up of nothing but a brain and nervous system, we might do well to content ourselves with sedentary pursuits, and to confine our attention entirely to the mind. but when we learn from observation that we have numerous other important organs of motion, sanguification, digestion, circulation, and nutrition, all demanding exercise in the open air, as alike essential to their own health and to that of the nervous system, it is worse than folly to shut our eyes to the truth, and to act as if we could, by denying it, alter the constitution of nature, and thereby escape the consequences of our own misconduct. reason and experience being thus set at naught by both parents and teachers in the education of their children, young people naturally grow up with the notion that no such influences as the laws of organization exist, and that they may follow any course of life which inclination leads them to prefer without injury to health, provided they avoid what is called dissipation. it is owing to this ignorance that young men of a studious or literary habit enter heedlessly upon an amount of mental exertion, unalleviated by bodily exercise or intervals of repose, which is quite incompatible with the continued enjoyment of a sound mind in a sound body. such, however, is the effect of the total neglect of all instruction in the laws of the organic frame during early education, that it becomes almost impossible effectually to warn an ardent student against the dangers to which he is constantly exposing himself. nothing but actual experience will convince him of the truth. numerous are the instances in which young men of the first promise have almost totally disqualified themselves for future useful exertion in consequence of long-protracted and severe study, who, under a more rational system of education, might have attained that eminence, the injudicious pursuit of which has defeated their own most cherished hopes, and ruined their general health. such persons might be saved to themselves and to society by early instruction in the nature and laws of the animal economy. they mean well, but err from ignorance more than from headstrong zeal. i shall conclude this chapter with a few rules relating to mental exercise, and the development and culture of the mind and brain. it is a law of the animal economy that two classes of functions can not be called into vigorous action at the same time without one or the other, or both, sooner or later sustaining injury. hence the important rule never to enter upon continued mental exertion or to rouse deep feeling immediately after a full meal, otherwise the activity of the brain is sure to interfere with that of the stomach, and disorder its functions. even in a perfectly healthy person, unwelcome news, sudden anxiety, or mental excitement, occurring after eating, will put an entire stop to digestion, and cause the stomach to loathe the sight of food. in accordance with this rule, we learn by experience that the very worst forms of indigestion and nervous depression are those which arise from excessive mental application, or turmoil of feeling and distraction of mind, conjoined with unrestrained indulgence in the pleasures of the table. in such circumstances, the stomach and brain react upon and disturb each other, till all the horrors of nervous disease make their unwelcome appearance, and render life miserable. the tendency to inactivity and sleep, which besets most animals after a full meal, shows repose to be, in such circumstances, the evident intention of nature. the bad effects of violating this rule, although not in all cases immediately apparent, will most assuredly be manifest at a period less or more remote. dr. caldwell, who has devoted much time and talent to the diffusion of sound physiological information and the general improvement of the race, and whose opportunities of observation have been very extensive, expressly states, that dyspepsy and madness prevail more extensively in the united states than among the people of any other nation. of the amount of our dyspeptics, he says, no estimate can be formed; but it is immense. whether we inquire in cities, towns, villages, or country places; among the rich, the poor, or those in moderate circumstances, we find dyspepsy more or less prevalent throughout the land. the early part of the day is the best time for severe mental exertion. nature has allotted the darkness of night for repose, and for the restoration by sleep of the exhausted energies of both body and mind. if study or composition be ardently engaged in toward the close of the day, and especially at a late hour of the evening, sound and invigorating sleep may not be expected until the night is far spent, for the increased action of the brain which always accompanies activity of mind requires a long time to subside. persons who practice night study, if they be at all of an irritable habit of body, will be sleepless for hours after going to bed, and be tormented perhaps by unpleasant dreams, which will render their sleep unrefreshing. if this practice be long continued, the want of refreshing repose will ultimately induce a state of morbid irritability of the nervous system bordering on insanity. it is therefore of great advantage to engage in severer studies early in the day, and to devote the after part of the day and the evening to less intense application. it will be well to devote a portion of the evening, and especially the latter part of it, to light reading, music, or cheerful and amusing conversation. the excitement induced in the brain by previous study will be soothed by these influences, and will more readily subside, and sound and refreshing sleep will be much more likely to follow. this rule is of the utmost importance to those who are obliged to perform a great amount of mental labor. it is only by conforming to it, and devoting their mornings to study and their evenings to relaxation, that many of our most prolific writers have been enabled to preserve their health. by neglecting this rule, others of the fairest promise have been cut down in the midst of their usefulness. regularity is of great importance in the development and culture of the moral and intellectual powers, the tendency to resume the same mode of action at stated times being peculiarly the characteristic of the nervous system. it is this principle of our nature which promotes the formation of what are called habits. by repeating any kind of mental effort every day at the same hour, we at length find ourselves entering upon it, without premeditation, when the time approaches. in like manner, by arranging our studies in accordance with this law, and taking up each regularly in the same order, a natural aptitude is soon produced, which renders application more easy than it would be were we to take up the subjects as accident might dictate. the tendency to periodical and associated activity sometimes becomes so strong, that the faculties seem to go through their operations almost without conscious effort, while their facility of action becomes so much increased as ultimately to give unerring certainty where at first great difficulty was experienced. it is not so much the soul or abstract principle of mind which is thus changed, as the organic medium through which mind is destined to act in the present mode of being. the necessity of judicious repetition in mental and moral education is, in fact, too little adverted to, because the principle on which it is effectual has not hitherto been generally understood. practice is as necessary to induce facility of action in the organs of the mind as in those of motion. the idea or feeling must not only be communicated, but it must be represented and reproduced in different forms till all the faculties concerned in understanding it come to work efficiently together in the conception of it, and until a sufficient impression is made upon the organ of mind to enable the latter to retain it. servants and others are frequently blamed for not doing a thing at regular intervals when they have been but once told to do so. we learn, however, from the organic laws, that it is presumptuous to expect the formation of a habit from a single act, and that we must reproduce the associated activity of the requisite faculties many times before the result will certainly follow, just as we must repeat the movement in dancing or skating many times before we become master of it. we may understand a new subject by a single perusal, but we can fully master it only by dwelling upon it again and again. in order to make a durable impression on the mind, repetition is necessary. it follows, hence, that in learning a language or science, six successive months of application will be more effectual in fixing it indelibly in the mind, and making it a part of the mental furniture, than double or even treble the time if the lessons are interrupted by long intervals. the too common practice of beginning a study, and, after pursuing it a little time, leaving it to be completed at a later period, is unphilosophical and very injurious. the fatigue of study is thus doubled, and the success greatly diminished. studies should not, as a general thing, be entered upon until the mind is sufficiently mature to understand them thoroughly, and, when begun, they should not be discontinued until they are completely mastered. by this means the mind becomes accustomed to sound and healthy action, which alone can qualify the student for eminent usefulness in after life. much of the want of success in the various departments of industry, and many of the failures that are constantly occurring among business men, are justly attributable to the fits of attention and the irregular modes of study they became habituated to in their school-boy days. hence the mischief of long vacations, and the evil of beginning studies before the age at which they may be understood. parents and teachers should hence, at an early period, impress indelibly upon the minds of their children and pupils the ever true and practical sentiment, that _what is worth doing at all is worth doing well_. although, at first, their progress may _seem_ to be retarded thereby, still, in the end, it will contribute greatly to accelerate their real advancement, and in after life, whether employed in literary or business pursuits, will be a means of augmenting their happiness and increasing their prospect of success in whatever department of labor they may be engaged. in physical education most persons seem well aware of the advantages of repetition. they know, for instance, that if practice in dancing, fencing, skating, and riding is persevered in for a sufficient length of time to give the muscles the requisite promptitude and harmony of action, the power will be ever afterward retained, although rarely called into use. but if we stop short of this point, we may reiterate practice by fits and starts without any proportional advancement. the same principle is equally applicable to the moral and intellectual powers which operate by means of material organs. the impossibility of successfully playing the hypocrite for any considerable length of time, and the necessity of being in private what we wish to appear in public, spring from the same rule. if we wish to be ourselves polite, just, kind, and sociable, or to induce others to become so, we must act habitually under the influence of the corresponding sentiments, in the domestic circle, in the school-room, and in every-day life, as well as in the company of strangers and on great occasions. it is the private and daily practice of individuals that gives ready activity to the sentiments and marks the real character. if parents or teachers indulge habitually in vulgarities of speech and behavior in the family or in the school, and put on politeness occasionally for the reception and entertainment of strangers, their true character will shine through the mask which is intended to conceal it. the habitual association to which the organs and faculties have been accustomed can not thus be controlled. parents hence, in addition to correct personal influence in the family, should provide for their children teachers whose habits and character are in all respects what they are willing their children should form. if they neglect to do this, the utmost they can reasonably expect is that their children will become what the teacher is. the principle that repetition is necessary in order to make a durable impression on the organ of the mind, and thus constitute a mental habit, explains how natural endowments are modified by external situation. the extent to which this modification may be carried, and is actually carried in every community, is much greater than most persons are aware of. take a child, for example, of average propensities, sentiments, and intellect, and place him among a class of people in whom the selfish faculties are exclusively exercised--a class who regard gain as the end of life, and look upon cunning and cheating as legitimate means, and who never express disapprobation or moral indignation against either crime or selfishness--and his lower faculties, being exclusively exercised, will increase in strength, while the higher ones, remaining unemployed, will become enfeebled. a child thus situated will, consequently, not only act as those around him do, but insensibly grow up resembling them in disposition and character; for, by the law of repetition, the organs of the selfish qualities will have acquired proportionally greater aptitude and vigor, just as do the muscles of the fencer or dancer. but suppose the same individual placed, _from infancy_, in the society of a superiorly endowed moral and intellectual people, the moral faculties will then be habitually excited, and their organs invigorated by repetition, till a greater aptitude will be induced in them, or, in other words, till a higher moral character will be formed. the natural endowments of individuals set limits to these modifications of character; but where original dispositions and tendencies are not strongly marked, the range is very wide. in the cultivation of the brain and mental faculties, each organ should be exercised directly upon its own appropriate objects, and not merely roused or addressed through the medium of another organ. when we wish to teach the graceful and rapid evolutions of fencing, we do not content ourselves with merely giving directions, but our chief attention is employed in making the muscles themselves go through the evolutions, till, by frequent repetition and correction, they acquire the requisite quickness and precision of action. so, when we wish to teach music, we do not merely address the understanding and explain the qualities of sounds. we train the ear to an attentive discrimination of these sounds, and the hand or the vocal organs, as the case may be, to the reproduction of the motions which call them into existence. we follow this plan, because the laws of organization require the direct practice of the organs concerned, and we feel instinctively that we can succeed only by obeying these laws. the purely mental faculties are connected during life with material organs, and are hence subjected to precisely the same laws. if, therefore, we wish to improve these faculties--the reasoning powers, for example--we must exercise them regularly in tracing the cause and relations of things. in like manner, if our aim is the development of the sentiments of attachment, benevolence, justice, or respect, we must exercise each of them directly and for its own sake, otherwise neither it nor its organ will ever acquire promptitude or strength. it is the brain, or organ of the mind, more than the abstract immaterial principle itself, that requires cultivation, or can, indeed, receive it in this life. education hence operates invariably in subjection to the laws of organization. in improving the _external_ senses, we admit this principle readily enough; but when we come to the _internal_ faculties of thought and feeling, it is either denied or neglected. that the superior quickness of touch, sight, and hearing, consequent upon judicious exercise, is referable to increased facility of action in their appropriate organs, is readily admitted. but when we explain, on the same principle, the superior development of the reasoning powers, or the greater warmth of feeling produced by similar exercise in these and other internal faculties, few are inclined to listen to our proposition, or allow to it half the weight or attention its importance demands, although every fact in philosophy and experience concurs in supporting it. we see the mental powers of feeling and of thought unfolding themselves in infancy and youth in exact accordance with the progress of the organization. we see them perverted or suspended by the sudden inroad of disease. we sometimes observe every previous acquirement obliterated from the adult mind by fever or by accident, leaving education to be commenced anew, as if it had never been; and yet, with all these evidences of the organic influence, the proposition that the established laws of physiology, as applied to the brain, should be considered our best and surest guide in education, seems to many a novelty. among the numerous treatises on education, there are very few volumes in which it is even hinted that these laws have the slightest influence over either intellectual or moral improvement. as god has given us bones and muscles, and blood-vessels and nerves, for the purpose of being used, let us not despise the gift, but consent at once to turn them to account, and to reap health and vigor as the reward which he has associated with moderate labor. as he has given us lungs to breathe with and blood to circulate, let us at once and forever abandon the folly of shutting ourselves up with little intermission, whether engaged in study or other sedentary occupations, and consent to inhale, copiously and freely, that wholesome atmosphere which his benevolence has spread around us in such rich profusion. as he has given us appetites and organs of digestion, let us profit by his bounty, and earn their enjoyment by healthful exercise in some department of productive industry. as he has given us a moral and a social nature, which is invigorated by activity, and impaired by solitude and restraint, let us cultivate good feelings, and act toward each other on principles of kindness, justice, forbearance, and mutual assistance; and as he has given us intellect, let us exercise it in seeking a knowledge of his works and of his laws, and in tracing out the relation in which we stand toward him, toward our fellow-men, and toward the various objects of the external world. in so doing, we may be well assured we shall find a reward a thousand times more rich and pure, yea, infinitely more delightful and enduring, than we can hope to experience in following our own blind devices, regardless of his will and benevolent intentions toward us. chapter vi. the education of the five senses. if the eye be obstructed, the ear opens wide its portals, and hears your very emotions in the varying tones of your voice; if the ear be stopped, the quickened eye will almost read the words as they fall from your lips; and if both be close sealed up, the whole body becomes like a sensitive plant--the quickened skin perceives the very vibrations of the air, and you may even write your thoughts upon it, and receive answers from the sentient soul within.--annual report _of the trustees of the perkins institution and massachusetts asylum for the blind_, . he who formed man of the dust of the earth, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, has honored his material organs by associating them with the immaterial soul. in this life _the senses_ constitute the great conveyances of knowledge to the human mind. it then becomes not only a legitimate object of inquiry, but one which commends itself to every human being, and especially to every parent and teacher, can these senses be improved by human interference? and if so, how can that improvement be best effected? the senses are the interpreters between the material universe without and the spirit within. without the celestial machinery of sensation, man must have ever remained what adam was before the almighty breathed into his form of clay the awakening breath of life. the dormant energies of the mind can be aroused, and the soul can be put into mysterious communion with external nature only by the magical power of sensation. the possession of all the corporeal senses, and their systematic and judicious culture by all proper appliances, are necessary in order to place man in such a relation to the material universe and its great architect as most fully and successfully to cultivate the varied capabilities of his nature, and best to subserve the purposes of his creation. he who is deprived of the healthful exercise of one or more of his senses, or, possessing them all unimpaired, has neglected their proper culture, is, from the nature of the case, in a proportionate degree cut off from a knowledge of god as manifested in his works, and from that happiness which is the legitimate fruit of such knowledge. much light has been thrown upon this subject within a few years by the judicious labors of that class of practical educators who have devoted their lives to the amelioration of the condition of persons deprived of one or more of the senses. it is difficult to conceive the real condition of the minds of persons thus situated, and especially while they remain uneducated. he who is deprived of the sense of sight has the windows of his soul closed, and is effectually shut out from this world of light and beauty. in like manner, he who is deprived of the sense of hearing is excluded from the world of music and of speech. what, then, must be the condition of persons deprived of both of these senses? how desolate and cheerless! yet some such there are. while on a visit to the asylum for the blind, in boston, a few months ago, i met two of this unfortunate class of persons--laura bridgman and oliver caswell. laura has been several years connected with the institution. laura bridgman, _the deaf, dumb, and blind girl_.--so remarkable is the case of this interesting girl, so full of interest, so replete with instruction, and in every way so admirably adapted to illustrate the subject of this chapter, that i proceed to give to my readers a sketch of the method pursued in her instruction, together with the results attendant upon it. my information in relation to her is derived from both personal acquaintance and the reports of her case, though principally from the latter source. laura was born in hanover, new hampshire, on the st of december, . she is described as having been a very sprightly and pretty infant. during the first years of her existence she held her life by the feeblest tenure, being subject to severe fits, which seemed to rack her frame almost beyond the power of endurance. at the age of four years her bodily health seemed restored; but what a situation was hers! the darkness and silence of the tomb were around her. no mother's smile called forth her answering smile. no father's voice taught her to imitate his sounds. to her, brothers and sisters were but forms of matter which resisted her touch, but which hardly differed from the furniture of the house save in warmth and in the power of locomotion, and not even in these respects from the dog and the cat. but the immortal spirit implanted within her could not die, nor could it be maimed or mutilated; and, though most of its avenues of communication with the world were cut off, it began to manifest itself through the others. as soon as she could walk, she began to explore the room, and then the house. she thus soon became familiar with the form, density, weight, and heat of every article she could lay her hands upon. she followed her mother, and felt of her hands and arms, as she was occupied about the house, and her disposition to imitate led her to repeat every thing herself. she even learned to sew a little and to knit. her affections, too, began to expand, and seemed to be lavished upon the members of her family with peculiar force. but the means of communication with her were very limited. she could be told to go to a place only by being pushed, or to come to one by a sign of drawing her. patting her gently on the head signified approbation, on the back disapprobation. she showed every disposition to learn, and manifestly began to use a natural language of her own. she had a sign to express her idea of each member of the family, as drawing her fingers down each side of her face to allude to the whiskers of one, twirling her hand around in imitation of the motion of a spinning-wheel for another, and so on. but, although laura received all the aid a kind mother could bestow, she soon began to give proof of the importance of language in the development of human character. by the time she was seven years old the moral effects of her privation began to appear, for there was no way of controlling her will but by the absolute power of another, and at this humanity revolts. at this time, dr. samuel g. howe, the distinguished and successful director of the asylum, learned of her situation, and hastened to see her. he found her with a well-formed figure, a strongly-marked nervous-sanguine temperament, a large and beautifully shaped head, and the whole system in healthy action. here seemed a rare opportunity of trying a plan for the education of a deaf and blind person, which the doctor had formed on seeing julia brace at hartford. the parents readily consented to her going to the institution in boston, where laura was received in october, , just before she had completed her eighth year. for a while she was much bewildered. after waiting about two weeks, and until she became acquainted with her new locality, and somewhat familiar with the inmates, the attempt was made to give her a knowledge of arbitrary signs, by which she could interchange thoughts with others. one of two methods was to be adopted. either the language of signs, on the basis of the natural language she had already commenced herself, was to be built up, or it remained to teach her the purely arbitrary language in common use. the former would have been easy, but very ineffectual. the latter, although very difficult, if accomplished, would prove vastly superior. it was therefore determined upon. the _blind_ learn to read by means of raised letters, which they gain a knowledge of by the sense of feeling. _the ends of the fingers_, resting upon the raised letters, thus constitute, in part, _the eyes of the blind_. this, although apparently difficult, becomes comparatively easy when the blind person possesses the _sense of hearing_, and is thus enabled to become acquainted with spoken language. on the contrary, the _deaf_, and consequently _dumb_, are unable to acquire a knowledge of spoken language so as to use it with any degree of success. in their education, hence, the _language of signs_, which can be addressed to the eye, is substituted for spoken language. in communicating with one another, by means of the _manual alphabet_, they substitute positions of the hand, which they can both make and see, for letters and words, which they can neither pronounce nor hear. to be deprived of either sight or hearing was formerly regarded as an almost insuperable obstacle in the way of education. persons deprived of both these senses have heretofore been considered by high legal authorities,[ ] as well as by public opinion, as occupying, of necessity, a state of irresponsible and irrecoverable idiocy. by the education of the remaining senses, however, this formidable and heretofore insuperable barrier has been overleaped, or, rather, the obstacle has been met and overcome. the experiment has been successfully tried, once and again, in our own country. the deaf and blind mute has not only acquired a knowledge of reading and writing, and of the common branches of education, but has been enabled successfully to prosecute the study of natural philosophy, of mental science, and of geometry. the accomplishment of all this has resulted from the successful cultivation of the sense of touch or of feeling. the raised letter of the blind has been used for written language, and the manual language of the mute, taken by the _finger-eyes_ of the blind, has been successfully substituted for spoken language. [ ] a man is not an idiot if he hath any glimmering of reason, so that he can tell his parents, his age, or the like matters. but a man who is born deaf, dumb, and blind, is looked upon by the law as in the same state with an idiot, he being supposed incapable of any understanding, as wanting all the senses which furnish the human mind with ideas.--_blackstone's commentaries_, vol. i., p. . laura's mind dwelt in darkness and silence. in order, therefore, to communicate to her a knowledge of the arbitrary language in common use, it was necessary to combine the methods of instructing the blind and the deaf. the first experiments in instructing her were made by taking articles in common use, such as knives, forks, spoons, keys, etc., and pasting upon them labels with their names printed in _raised letters_. these she felt of very carefully, and soon, of course, distinguished that the crooked lines ~_spoon_~ differed as much from the crooked lines ~_key_~, as the spoon differed from the key in form. small detached labels, with the same words printed upon them, were then put into her hands, and she soon observed that they were similar to those pasted on the articles. she showed her perception of this similarity by laying the label ~_key_~ upon the key, and the label ~_spoon_~ upon the spoon. when this was done she was encouraged by the natural sign of approbation--patting on the head. the same process was then repeated with all the articles which she could handle, and she very easily learned to place the proper labels upon them. after a while, instead of labels, the individual letters were given to her, on detached bits of paper. these were at first arranged side by side, so as to spell ~_book_~, ~_key_~, &c. they were then mixed up, and a sign was made for her to arrange them herself, so as to express the words ~_book_~, ~_key_~, etc., and she did so. the process of instruction, hitherto, had been mechanical, and the success attending it about as great as that in teaching a very knowing dog a variety of tricks. the poor child sat in mute amazement, and patiently imitated every thing her teacher did. presently the truth began to flash upon her; her intellect began to work; she perceived that here was a way by which she could herself make up a sign of any thing that was in her own mind, and show it to another mind, and at once her countenance lighted up with a human expression! her immortal spirit eagerly seizing upon a new link of union with other spirits! dr. howe says he could almost fix upon the moment when this truth dawned upon her mind and spread its light to her countenance. he saw at once that nothing but patient and persevering, but judicious efforts were needed in her instruction, and that these would most assuredly be crowned with success. it is difficult to form a just conception of the amount of labor bestowed upon laura thus far. in communicating with her, spoken language could not be used, for she was destitute of hearing. neither are signs of any use when addressed to the eyes of the blind. when, therefore, it was said that "a sign was made," we are to understand by it that the action was performed by her teacher, she feeling of his hands, and then imitating the motion. the next step in the process of her instruction was to procure a set of metal types, with the different letters of the alphabet cast upon their ends; also a board, in which were square holes, into which she could set the types so that the letters on the end could alone be felt above the surface. then, on any article being handed to her whose name she had learned--a pencil or a watch, for instance--she would select the component letters and arrange them on her board, and read them with apparent pleasure. when she had been exercised in this way for several weeks, and until her knowledge of words had become considerably extensive, the important step was taken of teaching her how to represent the different letters by the position of her fingers, instead of the cumbrous apparatus of the board and types. this she accomplished speedily and easily, for her intellect had begun to work in aid of her teacher, and her progress was rapid. six months after laura had left home her mother went to visit her. the scene of their meeting was full of interest. the mother stood some time gazing with overflowing eyes upon her unfortunate child, who, all unconscious of her presence, was playing about the room. presently laura ran against her, and at once began feeling of her hands, examining her dress, and trying to find out if she knew her; but, not succeeding in this, she turned away as from a stranger, and the poor woman could not conceal the pang she felt at finding her beloved child did not know her. she then gave laura a string of beads which she used to wear at home. these were at once recognized by the child, who gave satisfactory indications that she understood they were from home. the mother now tried to caress her; but laura repelled her, preferring to be with her acquaintances. other articles from home were then given to laura, and she began to look much interested; she examined the stranger much closer, and gave the doctor to understand she knew they came from hanover; she now even endured her mother's caresses, but would leave her with indifference at the slightest signal. after a while, on the mother taking hold of her again, a vague idea seemed to flit across laura's mind that this could not be a stranger; she therefore felt of her hands very eagerly, while her countenance assumed an expression of intense interest; she became very pale, and then suddenly red; hope seemed struggling with doubt and anxiety, and never were contending emotions more strongly painted upon the human face. at this moment of painful uncertainty, the mother drew laura close to her side, and kissed her fondly, when at once the truth flashed upon the child, and all distrust and anxiety disappeared from her face. with an expression of exceeding joy, laura nestled to the bosom of her parent, and yielded herself to her fond embraces. after this the beads were all unheeded, and the playthings which were offered to her were utterly disregarded. her playmates, for whom she but a moment before left the stranger, now vainly strove to pull her from her mother. the meeting and subsequent parting showed alike the affection, the intelligence, and the resolution of the child as well as of her mother. the following facts are drawn from the report made of her case at the end of the year , after she had been a little more than two years under instruction. having mastered the manual alphabet of the deaf mutes, and having learned to spell readily the names of every thing within her reach, she was then taught words expressive of positive qualities, as hardness and softness. this was a very difficult process. she was next taught those expressions of relation to place which she could understand. a ring, for example, was taken and placed _on_ a box; then the words were spelled to her, and she repeated them from imitation. the ring was afterward placed _on_ a hat, desk, etc. in a similar manner she learned the use of _in_, _into_, etc. she would illustrate the use of these and other words as follows: she would spell ~_on_~, and then lay one hand _on_ the other; then she would spell ~_into_~, and inclose one hand _within_ the other. laura very easily acquired a knowledge and use of active verbs, especially those expressive of _tangible action_, as to walk, to run, to sew, to shake. in acquiring a knowledge of language, she used the words with which she had become acquainted in a general sense, and according to the order of _her sense of ideas_. thus, in asking some one to give her bread, she would first use the word expressive of the leading idea, and say, _bread, give, laura_. if she wanted water, she would say, _water, drink, laura_. having acquired the use of substantives, adjectives, verbs, prepositions, and conjunctions, it was thought time to make the experiment of trying to teach her to _write_, and to show her she might communicate her ideas to persons not in contact with her. it was amusing to witness the mute amazement with which she submitted to the process; the docility with which she imitated every motion, and the perseverance with which she moved her pencil over and over again in the same track, until she could form the letter. but when at last the idea dawned upon her that by this mysterious process she could make other people understand what she thought, her joy was boundless! never did a child apply more eagerly and joyfully to any task than she did to this; and in a few months she could make every letter distinctly, and separate words from each other. at this time laura actually wrote, unaided, a legible letter to her mother, in which she expressed the idea of her being well, and of her expectation of going home in a few weeks. it was, indeed, a very rude and imperfect letter, couched in the language which a prattling infant would use. still, it shadowed forth and expressed to her mother the ideas that were passing in her own mind. she had attained about the same command of language as common children three years of age. but her power of expression was, of course, by no means equal to her power of conception; for she had no words to express many of the perceptions and sensations which her mind doubtless experienced. in the spring of , when she had been under instruction about two and a half years, returning fatigued from her journey home, she complained of a pain in her side, and on being asked what caused it, she replied as follows: "laura did go to see mother, ride did make laura side ache, horse was wrong, did not run softly." her improvement in the use of language was very rapid, and she soon became, in some respects, quite a critic. when one of the girls had the mumps, laura learned the name of the disease; soon after she had it herself, but she had the swelling only on one side; and some one saying to her, "you have got the mumps," she replied quickly, "_no, no; i have mump._" about this time laura learned the difference between the present and past tense of the verb. and here her simplicity rebukes the clumsy irregularities of our language. she learned _jump, jumped_--_walk, walked_, etc., until she had an idea of the mode of forming the imperfect tense of regular verbs; but when she came to the word _see_, she insisted that it should be _seed_ in the imperfect; and upon going down to dinner, she asked if it was _eat, eated_; but being told it was _eat_, ate, she seemed to try to express the idea that this transposition of the letters was not only wrong, but ludicrous, for she laughed heartily. she continued this habit of forming words analogically. when she had become acquainted with the meaning of the word restless, she seemed to understand that _less_ at the end of a word means without, destitute of, or wanting, as rest-less, fruit-less; also that _ful_ at the end of a word expresses abundance of what is implied by the primitive, as bliss-ful, play-ful. this is clearly illustrated in the following expressions. one day, feeling weak, she said, "i am very strongless." being told this was not right, she said, "why, you say restless when i do not sit still." then she said, "i am very weakful." my primary object in referring to laura has been to illustrate, in a striking manner, the practicability of the education of the senses to an extent not heretofore generally known. to such an extent has the sense of touch been cultivated in her, that her fingers serve as very good substitutes for both eyes and ears. i will mention one or two instances which strikingly illustrate the acuteness of laura's sense of touch. when i was at the institution a few months ago, she was told a person was present whom she had never met, and who wished an introduction to her. she reached her hand, expecting to meet a _stranger_. by mistake (for her teachers design never to allow her to be deceived), she took the hand of another gentleman, whom she recognized immediately, though she had never met him but twice before. she recognizes her acquaintances in an instant by touching their hands or their dress, and there are probably hundreds of individuals who, if they were to stand in a row, and hold out each a hand to her, would be recognized by that alone. the memory of these sensations is very vivid, and she will readily recognize a person whom she has once thus touched. many cases of this kind have been noticed; such as a person shaking hands with her, and making a peculiar pressure with one finger, and repeating this on his second visit, after a lapse of many months, being instantly known by her. she has been known to recognize persons with whom she had thus simply shaken hands but once, after a lapse of six months. but this is hardly more wonderful than that one should be able to recall impressions made upon the mind through the organ of sight, as when we recognize a person of whom we have had but one glimpse a year before; but it shows the exhaustless capacity of those organs which the creator has bestowed, as it were, in reserve against accidents, and which we too commonly allow to lie unused and unvalued. oliver caswell.--had i not devoted so much space to this subject already, it would be interesting to consider the case of oliver, who, like laura, is deaf, dumb, and blind. his experience is full of interest, though less striking than that already presented. his progress in learning language, and in acquiring intellectual knowledge, is comparatively slow, because he has not that fineness of fiber and that activity of temperament which enable laura to struggle so successfully against the immense disadvantages under which they both labor. oliver is a boy of rather unfavorable organization; he had been deaf and blind from infancy; he received no instruction until he was twelve years old, and consequently lost the most precious years for learning; he has nevertheless been taught to express his thoughts both by the finger language and by writing; he has also become acquainted with the rudiments of the common branches of education, and is intelligent and morally responsible. his case proves, therefore, very clearly, that the success of the attempt made to instruct laura bridgman was not owing solely to her uncommon capacity. oliver's natural ability is small, and his acquired knowledge very limited; but his sense of right and wrong, his obedience to moral obligations, and his attachment to friends, are very remarkable.[ ] he never willfully violates the rights or injures the feelings of others, and seldom shows any signs of temper when his own seem to be invaded. he even bears the teasing of little boys with gentleness and patience. he is very tractable, and always obeys respectfully the requests of his teacher. this shows the effect which kind and gentle treatment has had upon his character, for when he first went to the institution in boston he was sometimes very willful, and showed occasional outbursts of temper which were fearfully violent. "it seems hardly possible," says dr. howe, "that the gentle and affectionate youth, who loves all the household and is beloved by all in return, should be the same who a few years ago scratched and bit, like a young savage, those who attempted to control him." [ ] i have omitted much in the case of laura that i should have retained but for want of room. the moral qualities of her nature have developed themselves most clearly. she is honest to a proverb, having never been known to take any thing belonging to another. that she is a christian there can be no doubt. it is said in the report of her case for , that "on the last occasion of her manifesting any impatience, she said to miss wight, her teacher, '_i felt cross, but in a minute i thought of christ, how good and gentle he was, and my bad feelings went away._'" we regard it as a fact fully established that the sense of touch may be cultivated to a much greater extent than most persons are aware of. the same remark will apply to the cultivation of all the senses. we shall consider them separately. the sense of touch.--the remarks already made apply chiefly to this sense. the nerves that supply it proceed from the anterior half of the spinal cord. this sense is most delicate where there are the greatest number of nervous filaments, and those of the largest size. the hands, and especially the fingers, have a most delicate and nice sense of touch, though the sense is extended over the whole body, in every part of which it is less or more acute. in this respect, then, this sense is unlike the others, which are confined to small spaces, as we shall see when we come to consider them. the action of the sensitive nerves depends upon the state of the brain, and the condition of the system generally. in sound and perfect sleep, when the brain is inactive, ordinary impressions made upon the skin are unobserved. fear and grief diminish the impressibility of this tissue, while hope and joy increase it. the quantity and quality of the blood also influence sensation. if this vital fluid becomes impure, or its quantity is diminished, the sensibility of the skin will be impaired thereby. whatever affects the general health affects the healthy action of this sense. it is also much affected by sudden changes in temperature. if the skin is wounded while under the influence of cold, the pain will be slight. by carrying this chilling influence too far, the surface becomes entirely destitute of sensation. this is produced by the contraction of the blood-vessels upon the surface. on the contrary, when the chilled extremities are suddenly exposed to heat, the rapid enlargement of the contracted blood-vessels excites the nerves unduly, which causes the pain experienced on such occasions. the sensibility of the nerves depends much upon the habits of persons. suppose two boys go out to play when the thermometer stands at the freezing point, and that one of them has been accustomed to exercise in the open air, and to practice daily ablution, while the other one has been confined most of the time to a warm room, and has been accustomed to wash only his hands and face. the skin of the former, other things being equal, will be active and healthy, while that of the latter will be enfeebled and diseased. the organs of touch diffused over the body at the surface will be very differently affected in these two boys, and the perceptions of their minds will be alike dissimilar. one will be roused to action, and will feel just right for some animating game. both body and mind will be elastic and joyous. he will bound like the roe, make the welkin ring with his merry shout, and return to the bosom of his family with a gladdened heart, ready to impart and receive pleasure, while the other boy will be too keenly affected by the contact of the air, and think it too cold to stay out of doors. he will thrust his hands into his pockets, and curl himself up like one decrepit with age. his teeth will chatter and his whole frame tremble. of course, very different reflections will be awakened in his mind. he will hurry back to the fireside, thinking winter a very dismal season, and will be apt to fret himself and all about him, because of the confinement from which he has not the resolution to break out. the sensibility of the cutaneous nerves in these two cases depends upon the habits of the persons. if the latter would practice frequent ablutions, and excite a healthy action in the skin by friction and exercise, and conform to other laws of health, he would experience all that gladness of heart, and elasticity of body and mind, which the other is supposed to enjoy. hence the advantages resulting from a strict conformity to the laws of health in this particular as well as in others that are generally regarded as more important. the general law that the exercise of a faculty increases its power is applicable to the senses. we have referred to the blind, who read as rapidly as seeing persons by passing their fingers over raised letters, the sense of touch being substituted by them for that of vision. nor is the education of this sense useful to the blind merely. it may frequently be appealed to with great advantage by all who have cultivated it. the miller, for example, can judge more accurately of the quality of flour and meal, by passing some between his fingers than by the exercise of vision. the cloth-dresser, also, by the aid of this sense, not only marks the nicest shades of texture in examining cloths of different qualities, but in many instances learns to distinguish _colors_ by the sense of touch with perhaps greater accuracy than is common with seeing persons. the sense of taste.--the sense of taste bears the greatest resemblance to the sense of feeling. the upper surface of the tongue is the principal agent in tasting, though the lips, the palate, and the internal surface of the cheeks participate in this function, as does the upper part of the oesophagus. the multitude of points called papillæ, scattered over the upper surface of the tongue, constitute the more immediate seat of this sense. it is in these sensitive papillæ that the ramifications of the gustatory or tasting nerves terminate. when fluids are taken into the mouth, and especially those whose taste is pungent, these papillæ dilate and erect themselves, and the particular sensation produced is transmitted to the brain through the medium of the minute filaments of the gustatory nerves. in order fully to gratify the taste in eating dry, solid food, it is necessary that the food be first reduced to a liquid state, or, at least, that it be thoroughly moistened. nature has made full provision for this in furnishing the mouth with salivary glands, whose secretions are most abundant when engaged in masticating dry, hard substances. these quickened secretions contribute to gratify the taste and increase the pleasure of eating, and, at the same time, materially aid in the important processes of mastication and digestion. nature, also, with her accustomed bounty, has furnished man with a great variety of articles for food. by this means the various tastes of different persons may be gratified, although, in many instances, those articles of food which are most agreeable to some persons are extremely disagreeable to others. many persons can not eat the most nourishing food, as fruits, butter, etc., because to them the taste of these articles is disagreeable. but this is very easily accounted for, as in the mouth the food mixes with various fluids that differ in different persons, and in the same person at different times. these fluids, and particularly the saliva, assist in the formation and change of taste. this accounts not only for the different tastes of different persons, but also for the varying taste of the same persons, and for that fickleness of taste which is so common in sickness, when the fluids of the mouth, in a disordered and deranged state, mix with the food, and produce the disagreeable taste so often complained of at such times, and which, moreover, occasionally create a permanent dislike for food that was previously much relished. this sense was given to men and animals to guide them in the selection of their food, and to enable them to guard against the use of articles that would be injurious if introduced into the stomach. in the inferior animals, the sense of taste still answers the original design of its bestowment; but in man, it has been abused and perverted by the use of artificial stimulants, which have created an acquired taste that, in most persons, is very detrimental to health. this sense is so modified by habit, that, not unfrequently, articles which were at first exceedingly offensive, become, at length, highly agreeable. it is in this manner that many persons, whose sense of taste has been impaired or perverted, have formed the disgusting and ruinous habits of smoking and chewing tobacco, and of using stimulating and intoxicating drinks. but these pernicious habits, and all similar indulgences, lessen the sensibility of the gustatory nerve, and ultimately destroy the natural relish for healthful food and drink. by this means, also, the digestive powers become disordered, and the general health is materially impaired. all persons, then, should seek to preserve the natural integrity of this sense, and to restore it immediately to healthy action when at all depraved, for upon this depends much of health and longevity, of happiness and usefulness. this sense may be rendered very acute by cultivation, as is illustrated by persons who are accustomed to taste medicines, liquors, teas, etc. it ought, however, to be chiefly exercised in partaking of those simple articles of food and drink which are most conducive to health. in its natural state it prefers these, and if depraved it will soon recover a healthy tone, if not continually tempted by stimulating substances. this is beautifully illustrated in thousands of instances all over our country by persons who were once accustomed to use strong drink, but who have substituted for it sparkling water, a beverage prepared by god himself to nourish and invigorate his creatures, and beautify his footstool. the sense of smell.--the sense of taste has received a faithful companion in that of smell. the beneficent creator, with that wisdom which characterizes all his works, has very wisely placed the organ of this sense just above the mouth, in order that the scent of many things that are hurtful may warn us from partaking of them before they reach the mouth. the air-passages of the nose, in which this sense is located, are lined with a thin skin, called the mucous membrane, which is continuous with the lining membrane of the parts of the throat and of the external skin. upon this membrane the olfactory nerve ramifies. the odoriferous particles of matter that float in the air come in contact with these fine and sensitive nerves as the air rushes through the nostrils, and the impression is conveyed to the brain by the olfactory nerve. the mucous membrane, upon which this ramifies, is of considerable extent in man. in the lower animals it is less or more extensive, according to the degree of acuteness of this sense. this membrane is full of little glands that are continually giving off thick mucus, and especially when the membrane is inflamed. there is a small canal leading from the eyes to the nose, through which a fluid, that also forms tears, is constantly passing when the passage is clear. it is the office of this fluid to moisten and thin the mucus of the nose. when this mucous is too abundant, as in some stages of a cold, and especially if it becomes dry from the closing of the canal leading from the eyes, or from any other cause, as fever, the sense of smell will be greatly impaired, if not entirely suspended. it is, indeed, not unfrequently permanently injured in this way, and sometimes is irrecoverably lost. the sensation of smell, it should be borne in mind, is produced by a kind of odoriferous vapor, very fine and invisible, that flies off from nearly all bodies. the air which contains this vapor is drawn into the nose, and is in this way brought into contact with the very delicate nerves of smell that ramify the membrane which lines the air-passages of this organ. it is only when the exceedingly small particles of which the odor of various bodies is composed come in contact with the minute ramifications of the olfactory nerve that this sensation is produced. in order to protect these sensitive nerves, as well as to prevent the introduction into the lungs of injurious substances, the air-passages of the nose are furnished with hairy appendages, which are less or more abundant according to the size of these passages. these intercept any foreign substances that enter the nose, and thus irritate the mucous membrane, and cause a quick and powerful contraction of the diaphragm, by which the offending matter is immediately expelled. this phenomenon, which is called sneezing, depends upon a connection of the olfactory with the respiratory nerves. this sense not only comes in to the aid of taste in enabling man and the lower animals to select proper food, and avoid that which is injurious, but it also gives us positive and varied pleasure by the inhalation of agreeable odors, while, at the same time, it enables us to avoid an infectious atmosphere, and all objects whose odors are offensive and hurtful. it is true that man can accustom himself to nearly all kinds of odor, even to those that at first are very disagreeable. he indeed not unfrequently so vitiates the sense of smell as actually to prefer those scents which, to persons who have preserved the integrity of this sense, are regarded as exceedingly offensive, and even filthy. but why, let me ask, did the creator give us the sense of smell? was it to be thus perverted? no, indeed: it was, without doubt, that we might enjoy the refreshing fragrance of flowers and herbs, of food and drink; and also that we might distinguish between air that is pure and healthful, and that which is impure and infectious. as most articles of food which are agreeable to the smell are wholesome, and as those which are disagreeable are generally unwholesome, so, also, those states of the atmosphere which are grateful to this sense are salubrious, and those odors which are pleasant are healthful, while air which is ungrateful will generally be found injurious to health, as will also all those odors which are unpleasant to this sense when in a healthful state. he who has had occasion to enter a crowded court-room, lecture-room, church, or assembly-room of whatever kind, which has been occupied for a considerable time without adequate ventilation, can not fail to remember the unwelcome impression made upon his nasal organs when first he inhaled the vitiated atmosphere within, though by degrees he might have become accustomed to it, did he remain, so as ultimately to become well-nigh insensible to its noisome influence. but let such and all others be well assured that, however offensive such a fetid atmosphere may be to the smell, it is equally injurious to the health. and let those who, having returned from a morning walk or healthful exercise in a salubrious atmosphere, have had occasion to revisit the small and unventilated lodging-room in which they spent a restless night without refreshing sleep, perceive, in the sickening smell, a sufficient cause for all their pains and aches, and wonder how they survived such a gross violation of the organic laws. all of the senses may be improved by education. the sense of smell constitutes no exception to this rule. let none be discouraged, then; for the more we accustom our lungs and nasal organs to pure air, the more will they require it, and the more readily will they detect the presence of the least impurity. this sense becomes very acute in deaf persons, and even more so in the case of those that are blind. the reason is obvious; for, as they are led of necessity to rely upon it more than persons who have all the senses, it becomes thereby developed, and is enabled more accurately to judge of the properties of whatever is submitted to its scrutiny. seeing persons rarely partake of any article of food, and especially of any thing new, without first smelling it, and blind persons never; for this is the only means by which they can judge of its wholesomeness or unwholesomeness without tasting it. whatever stupefies the brain, impairs the healthy action of the nerve of smell, or thickens the membrane that lines the nasal cavities, and thus diminishes the sensibility of the nerves ramified upon it, injures this sense. all these effects are produced by the habitual use of snuff, which, when introduced into the nose, diminishes the sensibility of the nerves, and thickens the lining membrane. by its use the air-passages through the nostrils sometimes become completely obstructed. it is on this account that most habitual snuff-takers are compelled to open their mouths in order to breathe freely. it has been well said, that if nature had intended that the nose should be used as a snuff-hole, she would doubtless have put it on the other end up. the sense of hearing.--the external ear, although curiously shaped, is not the most important part of the organ whose function it is to take cognizance of sounds. in the transmission of sound to the brain, the vibrations of the air produced by the sonorous body are collected by the external ear, and conducted through the auditory canal to the drum of the ear, which is so arranged that it may be relaxed or tightened like the head of an ordinary drum. that its motion may be free, the air contained within the drum has free communication with the external air by an open passage, called the eustachian tube, leading to the back of the mouth. this tube is sometimes obstructed by wax, when a degree of deafness ensues. but when the obstruction is removed in the effort of sneezing or otherwise, a crack or sudden noise is generally experienced, accompanied usually with an immediate return of acute hearing. the ear-drum performs a two-fold office; for while it aids in the transmission of sound from without to the internal ear, it at the same time modifies the intensity of sound. this softening of the sound is effected by the relaxation of a muscle when sounds are so acute as to be painful; but when listening to low sounds, the drum is rendered tense by the contraction of this muscle, and the sounds become, by this means, more audible. the vibrations made on the drum are transmitted by the tympanum--an irregular bony cavity--to the internal ear, which is filled with a watery fluid. in this fluid the filaments of the auditory nerve terminate, which receive and transmit the sound to the brain. the ear has the power of judging of the direction from which sound comes, as is strikingly exemplified in the fact that when horses or mules march in company at night, those in front direct their ears forward, and those in the rear turn them backward, while those in the center turn them laterally or across, the whole troop seeming to be actuated by a feeling to watch the common safety. this is also illustrated by four or six horse teams, and is a fact with which coachmen are familiar. it is further illustrated by the dog, and many other animals. the external ear of man is likewise furnished with muscles; and savages are said to have the power of moving or directing their ears at pleasure, like a horse, to catch sounds as they come from different directions; but few men in civilized life retain this power. the acuteness of this sense in men and animals, other things being equal, depends upon the size of the ear. in timid animals, as the hare and the rabbit, the ear is very large. they are thus apprized of the approach of an enemy in time to flee to a place of safety. the ear-trumpet--which is a tube wide at one end, where the sound enters, and narrow at the other, where the ear is applied--is constructed on this principle, its sides being so curved that, according to the law of reflection, all the sound which enters it is brought to a focus in the narrow end. it thus increases many fold the intensity of a sound which reaches the ear through it, and enables a person who has become deaf to common conversation to mix again with pleasure in society. the concave hand held behind the ear answers in some degree the purpose of an ear-trumpet. _the ear of dionysius_, in the dungeons of syracuse, was a notorious instance of a sound-collecting surface. the roof of the prison was so formed as to collect the words, and even whispers, of the unhappy prisoners, and to direct them along a hidden conduit to where the tyrant sat listening. acuteness of hearing requires the healthy action of the brain, and particularly of that portion of it from which the auditory nerve proceeds, combined with perfection in the structure and functions of the different parts of the ear. the best method, then, of retaining and improving the hearing, is to observe well the general laws of health, and particularly to avoid every thing that will in the least impair the structure or healthy action of the parts immediately concerned in the exercise of this function. inflammatory fevers, affections of the brain, and injuries upon the head, are among the more common causes of imperfect hearing. hence the impropriety of striking children upon the head in correcting them, whether in the family or in the school. the instances are not few in which deafness, and the impairing of the mental faculties, have resulted from that barbarous practice familiarly known as "boxing the ears." this inhuman practice is likely to result in injury to the drum of the ear, either in thickening this membrane, or in diminishing its vibratory character. inflammation of the ear-drum, either acute or chronic, is the common cause of its increased thickness. how often this is produced by blows, the reader may judge. diminution of the vibratory character of the ear-drum may result from an accumulation of wax upon its outer surface. in such cases chronic inflammation of the parts is not unfrequently the result of the injudicious practice of attempting its removal by introducing the heads of pins into the ear. this wax, it should be known, is designed to subserve an important end; for the tube leading from the external ear, being, like the nose, constantly open, is liable to the entrance of foreign bodies, such as dust, insects, and the like. but, fortunately, it is not left without the means of defense; for on its inside there are numerous fine bristles, which, interlacing each other, interpose a barrier to the entrance of every thing but sound. moreover, between the roots of these hairs there are numerous little glands, that secrete a nauseous, bitter wax, which, by its offensiveness, either deters insects from entering, or entangles them and prevents their advance in case they do enter. this wax, then, is very serviceable. but its usefulness does not stop here. when the ear becomes dry from a deficiency of it, the hearing becomes imperfect, as also when it is thin and purulent. this wax not unfrequently becomes hard and obstructs the tube, causing less or more deafness. but this form of deafness may be easily cured, even though it has existed for years; for, having softened the accumulations of viscid wax by dropping animal oil into the ear, they may be removed by the injection of warm soap-suds, which is an effectual and safe remedy. the sense of hearing is perhaps as susceptible of cultivation as any of the senses. the indian in the forest, who is accustomed to listen to the approach of his enemies or of his prey, acquires such acuteness of hearing as to be able to detect sounds that would be inaudible to persons living amid the din of civilized life. the blind, also, who of necessity are led to rely more upon this sense than seeing persons, excel in the acuteness of their hearing. they recognize their acquaintances by the exercise of this sense as readily as persons usually do by that of sight, an attainment which very few seeing persons make, and yet one that is perhaps within the reach of ninety-nine persons in every hundred. the blind judge with great accuracy the distance of persons in conversation, of carriages in motion, and of all sonorous bodies whose vibrations reach their ears. they even estimate with remarkable correctness the distance and height of buildings by the reflection or interception of sound. it is in consequence of the acuteness of this sense, acquired by careful cultivation, that the blind, as a class, have become so generally and justly distinguished for their pre-eminence in instrumental music. this enables them also to cultivate vocal music with more than ordinary success. the due cultivation of the sense of hearing will contribute vastly to promote our intellectual and moral well-being. if it be true, as we are told it is by those who have been engaged in teaching both the deaf and the blind, that the absence of hearing is even a more formidable impediment to the communication of knowledge than that of sight, we must infer that all imperfections of the organ of hearing itself, or in the manner of using it, must correspondingly lessen the accuracy of the knowledge we receive through that organ. the meaning of language very often is conveyed not so much by the words themselves as in the tones of voice in which the words are uttered. if, therefore, the hearing be indistinct, or there be no habit formed of careful attention to the inflections of sound, the impressions received from what we hear must often be inaccurate. our speech, too, will be far less agreeable, and be inefficient, even if it be not positively inarticulate. we owe it to others, no less than to ourselves, then, to cultivate the powers of the voice--the common instrument that god has given us for the interchange of thought, sentiment, and feeling, and which, though so common, is the most perfect of all instruments for the transmission of sound. yet how deplorably is it neglected! how shamefully is it misused! it can be fully developed and made what it is capable of being only through the influence of the ear. if this organ be neglected, the voice must needs be imperfect. and the voices of many persons are through life imperfect and disagreeable, because they were not carefully trained in early life to articulate distinctly, much less to utter _musical_ sounds. the opinion is confidently expressed by those who are best qualified to decide the matter, that nearly all children might be taught to sing, if proper attention were paid early enough to the use they make of their ears and their organs of sound. the careful training of these should be considered an indispensable part of a school-teacher's as well as of a parent's duty. the ear will find appropriate discipline in distinguishing, without aid from the eye, the causes of various sounds, as the opening of a door, the shutting of a knife, the dropping of various coins, the moving of different articles of furniture, etc. it may also find appropriate exercise in determining the direction from which various sounds proceed; in recognizing acquaintances by their natural voices, and in detecting the counterfeit voices of companions; in arranging and classifying the elementary sounds of the language, and in determining all the different musical tones; in judging of the genus and species of birds by their chirping, of the distance and nature of sonorous bodies of various kinds, etc., etc. these are some of the direct means of improving this sense: others will suggest themselves to the thoughtful reader. the sense of sight.--the sense of sight, which is the most refined and admirable of all the senses, still remains to be considered. the senses generally serve as interpreters between the material universe without and the spirit within. but it is more especially by the sense of sight that we are enabled to hold converse with the external world. without it we should be deprived of a large portion of the pleasures of life not only, but even of the means of maintaining our existence. it is through the sense of vision that the wisdom, power, and benevolence of the deity are chiefly manifested to us. i shall describe the apparatus of vision only so far as is necessary in order to subserve my leading object, which is the preservation and improvement of this sense, and the means of rendering it tributary to intellectual and moral culture. the eye, which is the organ of vision, is an optical instrument of the most perfect construction. it is surrounded by _coats_, which contain refracting mediums, called _humors_. there are three coats, called the _sclerotic_, the _choroid_, and the _retina_; and three humors, called the _aqueous_, the _crystalline_, and the _vitreous_. the _sclerotic_ or outer coat, called also the white of the eye, is an opaque, fibrous membrane. it has almost the firmness of leather, possesses little sensibility, and is rarely exposed to inflammation or other diseases. it invests the eye on every side except the front, and besides maintaining its globular form and preserving its internal and delicate structure, serves for the attachment of those muscles which move this organ. the opening in the fore part of this opaque coat is filled by the transparent _cornea_, which resembles a watch crystal in shape, and is received into a groove in the front part of the sclerotic coat in the same manner that a watch-glass is received into its case. but for this arrangement light could not gain admission to the eye. the _choroid coat_, which constitutes the second investing membrane of the eye, is of a dark brown color upon its outer surface, and of a deep black within. the internal surface of this membrane secretes a dark substance resembling black paint, upon which the retina is spread out, and which is of great importance in the function of vision, as it seems to absorb the rays of light immediately after they have struck upon the sensible surface of the retina. the _retina_, which is the third and innermost membrane of the eye, is the expansion of the optic nerve, and constitutes the immediate seat of vision. such is the arrangement of the humors of the eye, and so perfectly are they adapted to the functions they are called upon to perform, that in the healthy state of this organ, the light entering the pupil is so refracted as to paint upon the retina an exact image of the objects from which it proceeds. the optic nerve, whose expansion forms the retina, receives this image and transmits it to the mind. arnott has well remarked, that "a whole printed sheet of a newspaper may be represented on the retina on less surface than that of a finger nail; and yet not only shall every word and letter be separately perceivable, but even any imperfection of a single letter. or, more wonderful still, when at night an eye is turned up to the blue vault of heaven, there is portrayed on the little concave of the retina the boundless concave of the sky, with every object in its just proportions. there a moon in beautiful miniature may be sailing among her white-edged clouds, and surrounded by a thousand twinkling stars, so that to an animalcule supposed to be within and near the pupil, the retina might appear another starry firmament with all its glory." besides these three coats, and the cornea which constitutes about one fifth of the anterior portion of the outer coat, it is necessary to notice the _iris_, so called from its variety of color in different persons, and upon which alone the color of the eye depends. the iris is a circular membrane situated just behind the cornea, and is attached to one of the coats at its circumference. in its center is a small round hole, called the _pupil_; and sometimes spoken of familiarly as the sight of the eye, as no light can enter the eye except through it. the iris possesses the power of dilating and contracting, so as to admit more or less light, as it may be needed. this change in the size of the pupil is effected by two sets of muscular fibers. the first set converge from the circumference of the iris to the circular margin of the pupil, and constitute the _radiated muscle_. the outer ends of these fibers are attached to the sclerotic coat, which is unyielding; hence, when they contract, the pupil _enlarges_ to receive more light. the other set is composed of circular fibers, which go round in the iris from the border to the pupil, and constitute the _orbicular muscle_, the contraction of which _diminishes_ the size of the pupil. when too much light enters the eye, the excited and sensitive retina immediately gives warning of the danger, and the nerves, which are plentifully distributed to the iris, stimulate the orbicular muscle to contract, and the radiated one to relax, by which the size of the pupil is lessened. but when the light which enters the pupil is insufficient to transmit a distinct image of objects to the brain, the orbicular muscle relaxes, and the radiated one contracts, so as to enlarge the pupil. the contraction of the pupil is readily seen when a person passes from a darkened room into a bright sunlight, or when a light is first brought into a room in the twilight of evening. any person may notice this contraction in his own eye by beholding himself in a glass immediately after passing from a dark to a well-lighted room. so, also, when a person looks at an object near the eye, the pupil contracts, but when he looks at an object more remote, it dilates. the muscles of the iris are somewhat under the control of the will; for most persons can contract or dilate the pupil, in some degree, at pleasure. some persons possess this faculty to a great extent. the three _humors of the eye_ have been compared to the glasses of a telescope, and the coats to the tube, which keeps them in their places. the _aqueous_ humor is situated in the fore part of the eye, and is divided by the iris into what are called the anterior and posterior chambers of the eye. the _crystalline_ humor, or lens, is situated immediately behind the aqueous humor, a short distance back of the pupil, and is a perfectly transparent double convex lens, closely resembling in shape the common burning glass. this resemblance does not stop here; for this lens, like the burning glass, possesses the property of converging the rays of light which fall upon it, and bringing them to a focus. when this lens becomes so opaque as to obstruct the passage of light, either partially or entirely, a person is said to have a _cataract_. this can be cured only by a surgical operation. the _vitreous_ humor, situated back of the other two, forms the principal part of the globe of the eye. it differs from the aqueous in one important particular. when that is discharged in extracting the crystalline lens for cataract or otherwise, it will be restored again in a few hours, and the eye will continue to perform its function. but if this be discharged by accident, the eye is irrecoverably lost. this, however, does not often occur; for, as we shall presently see, the eye is admirably fortified. the eye is a perfect optical instrument, infinitely surpassing all specimens of human skill. this is true, view it in what light we may. it not only possesses the power of so adjusting its parts as to adapt it to the examination of objects at different distances, and in light of different degrees of intensity, but we are enabled to direct it at will to objects above, beneath, or around us. the various motions of the eye are produced by six little muscles. these are attached at one extremity to the immovable bones of the orbit, while at the other extremity they are inserted into the sclerotic coat, four of them near its junction with the cornea, by broad, thin tendons, which give to the white of the eye its pearly appearance. these muscles are so arranged by the matchless skill of the architect as to enable the beholder to direct the eye to any object he chooses, and to hold it there for any length of time that is compatible with the laws by which muscular exercise should be regulated. by the slight or intense action of four of these, called the straight muscles, the eye is less or more compressed, and the relative positions of its humors are by this means so nicely adjusted as to enable us to view objects near by or at a distance. the other two are called oblique muscles, one of which, with its long tendon passing through a cartilaginous loop, acts upon the principle of the fixed pulley, and turns the eye in a direction contrary to its own action. when the external muscle becomes too short, the eye turns out; but if the internal muscle is unduly contracted, the eye turns inward, toward the nose. one eye is sometimes turned up or down, but this is of less frequent occurrence. it would be interesting to notice the protecting organs of the eye, consisting of the _orbit_, which is a deep bony socket, in which the eye securely rests; of the _eye-brows_, which are two projecting arches, covered with hair, and so arranged as to prevent the moisture that accumulates upon the forehead, in free perspiration, from flowing into the eye; of the _eye-lids_, which are two movable curtains for the protection of the eye, and which secrete a fluid that moistens and lubricates it; of the _lachrymal gland_, with its ducts, which keeps the eye constantly moist, and whose secretions go on while we wake and when we sleep, etc., etc.; but the preceding must suffice. with this brief description of the apparatus of vision, we proceed to the consideration of the means of preserving and improving this sense, and of rendering it tributary to intellectual and moral culture. the rule requiring that _action should alternate with rest_, which has been so often stated, and which applies to all the organs of both body and mind, should be especially observed in relation to the eye. this organ requires exercise, and light is its appropriate stimulus; but injury is the inevitable consequence of keeping it too constantly employed, or too intently fixed for a long time on any object. whenever the eye is fixed for any length of time upon an object which it distinguishes with difficulty, it experiences a painful sensation, which is a sure indication that it has been overtaxed. the sight is also impaired when the eye is too little used, or when its natural stimulus is shut out, as is strikingly illustrated in the case of persons confined in dungeons. a distinguished oculist has said that many men daily impair or destroy their eyes by immoderate use, and that not a few have done the same by too little use of them. the exposure of the eyes to _sudden transitions from weak to strong light_ is very injurious. this may be regarded as one of the must prolific causes of weakness of sight. the injury is generally gradual, it is true, but it is none the less fatal on that account. the immediate sensation of pain, when a strong light is brought into a dark room, should be a sufficient warning to avoid such sudden extremes. the iris dilates and contracts, and thus enlarges or diminishes the size of the pupil as the light that fails upon the eye is faint or strong; but this dilation and contraction are not instantaneous. there are numerous instances on record in which total blindness has resulted from a sudden transition from darkness to the brilliancy of day. the habit of looking at a bright light of any kind, and especially of watching flashes of lightning, which is practiced by many, is exceedingly dangerous. the practice which many students and others indulge in, of resting their eyes as the twilight of evening advances, and allowing the pupil to dilate until it is quite dark, and then suddenly introducing a bright light, is a palpable violation of this rule, and one that is sure, sooner or later, sensibly to injure the eyes. the exposure of the eyes suddenly to a strong light upon waking from sleep, and all sudden changes of whatever kind from darkness to intense light, should be carefully avoided by persons who would preserve their sight unimpaired. the strength of light used should be regulated _according to the powers of the eye_. this is a general, though a very important rule. both the amount and the distribution of light should be such as to produce no unpleasant sensations. the eye possesses a certain degree of adaptation to light, according as it is intense or feeble. some eyes require a stronger light than others, but all eyes are injured by being used in light that is too intense or too feeble. reading by a strong sunlight, and by moon or star light, may be adduced as illustrations which are alike painful and injurious. too little light is well-nigh as injurious as too much, as he can not fail to have noticed who has had occasion to travel a difficult road in a dark night. the injury, in such cases, is two-fold; for while, on the one hand, the radiated muscle of the iris is unduly contracted for a length of time, in order sufficiently to enlarge the pupil to render objects visible, the sensitive retina, on the other hand, is overtaxed to gain a knowledge of them in too feeble light. the pain which the strained eye thus experiences is only an indication and a warning to the individual of the permanent injury he is inflicting upon this delicate organ. _rooms should be well and evenly lighted._ the irregular and flickering light of common lamps and candles is very injurious, and should be avoided in the study, and in all mechanical pursuits where the eye is much taxed. the best oculists concur in the opinion that reflected and concentrated light are highly injurious. several cases of actual blindness are recorded as having occurred within a few years from exposure to concentrated light, and weakness of sight that has unfitted the individual for usefulness through life has often been thus produced. the rays of the sun are considered as peculiarly injurious when reflected from an opposite building or wall, or even when they pass through a window, and, descending to the floor, are thence reflected to the eyes. what, then, shall we say of the habit of constructing school-rooms in such a manner that perhaps a majority of the scholars are obliged to write and study at desks upon which the direct rays of the sun shine for a considerable portion of the day unbroken unless it be by a passing cloud! and yet thousands of school-houses are situated in such a manner as to create this very necessity all over our country. at a moderate estimate, the eyes of one hundred thousand children are taxed in this manner in the schools of the united states every passing year. a vast amount of discomfort and unhappiness is produced in this way that might easily be avoided, would parents and teachers take the trouble. any exposure of this kind should be immediately obviated, either by blinds, or by curtains of some soft color. a few newspapers are much better than nothing. the desks and furniture should be of such a color that the eye may repose upon them with agreeable sensations. nature is clothed with drapery whose color is refreshing to the eye; and it is false taste, as well as false philosophy, which attempts to dazzle in order to please it. _the use of side lights is injurious._ the eye will accommodate itself to light of different degrees of intensity within a limited range, but both eyes should be exposed to an equal degree of light. the sympathy between the eyes is so great, that if the pupil of one eye is dilated by being kept in the shade, as must, of course, be the case where the light is on one side, the eye which is exposed can not contract itself sufficiently for protection, and is almost inevitably injured. when viewing objects, we should avoid, as far as possible, _all oblique positions of the eye_. by neglecting this rule, an unnatural and permanent contraction of the muscle is liable to be produced, as is illustrated in the numerous instances of strabismus, or cross-eye, which are every where too common. _we should accustom the eye to viewing objects at different distances._ the muscles upon which the form of the eye and the size of the pupil depend are subject to the general laws of muscular action. their strength and flexibility, which are increased by healthful exercise, are impaired by disuse. hence students who have neglected this rule, and have accustomed themselves for a long time to view objects near by, lose the power of adjusting the eye so as to view things at a distance. as a consequence, they become near-sighted, and put on glasses, when, by a proper use of the eye, their vision might have been preserved unimpaired many long years. i know some students upon whom this habit became so firmly fixed before they were twenty years of age, that they felt compelled to put on glasses, but who, unwilling to contract so pernicious a habit in early life, commenced a course of discipline in accordance with the suggestions here given. by perseverance, their eyes not only recovered their former healthful action, but became so improved that they now possess the sense of vision unimpaired not only, but in a very high state of cultivation. _persons become near or long sighted_ as the objects to which they are accustomed to direct the eye are near or remote. this is illustrated in the case of students, watch-makers, and engravers, who are accustomed to examine minute objects near the eye, and, as a consequence, become near-sighted; and of surveyors, hunters, and sailors, who, being accustomed to view objects at a distance, become long-sighted. by a proper discipline of the eye, persons may attain and retain the power of viewing objects near by and at a distance, as is illustrated in the case of those gunsmiths who are accustomed to manufacture guns, and to try them in shooting at a mark at a great distance. the preceding principles being borne in mind in their various applications. i need, perhaps, state but one more rule. he who would secure clear and distinct vision, must observe all those rules which are necessary to keep the body in health. the sympathy of the eyes with all the other organs of the body is wonderful and intimate. there is no other organ whose strength depends so much on the general vigor of the system. strict temperance in eating and drinking may be regarded as an indispensable requisite for the preservation of healthy eyes. to this may be attributed the clear heads of the ancient philosophers, who, unlike most students of the present day, exercised their bodies and limbs as well as their minds. their works are not the production of congested brains, for these were not oppressed with blood belonging to other parts of the body. they studied and thought, and exercised both body and mind in the open air, and thus observed the laws of health. but among the multitudes of close students of the present day, who complain of weakness of the eyes, the misfortune is generally attributable to an almost total neglect of the first principles of health. while we reproach and loathe the man whose eyes are red and weeping with the effects of intemperate drinking, we cordially pity purblind students, as in some sense martyrs to the cause of learning. dr. reynolds, a distinguished american oculist, administers a rebuke to such which we fear is too often merited: "a closer examination of their history presents a very different result. our sympathy may grow cool if we regard them with a physiologic eye. it is a love of the flesh, more than a love of the spirit, that too often clouds their vision. it is too much food, crowding with unnecessary blood the tender vessels of the retina. it is too little exercise, allowing these accumulated fluids to settle down into fatal congestion. it is positions wholly at variance with the freedom of the circulation, and various other imprudences, which are the results of carelessness or unjustifiable ignorance. 'the day laborer may eat what he will, provided it is wholesome, and his eyes will not suffer. but let the student, who is called upon to devote not only his eyes, but his brain, to severe labor, live upon highly nutritious food, and such as is difficult of digestion, and we shall soon see how his vision will be impaired, through the vehement and persevering determination of blood to the head, which such a course must inevitably occasion.' so speaks beer, whose extensive opportunities of observation have perhaps never been exceeded. the daily practice of every observing oculist is filled with coincident experience." among the prevalent habits of students by which the eyes are injured, the same writer mentions the irritation produced by rubbing them on awaking in the morning, a practice which has in some cases occasioned permanent and incurable disease; reading while the body is in a recumbent position; using the eyes too early after the system has been affected with serious disease; exercising them too much in the examination of minute objects; the popular plan of _using green spectacles_, and _the use of tobacco_. light which is sufficient for distinct vision, and which falls over the shoulder in an oblique direction, from above, upon the book or study table, is generally regarded, and with great propriety, as best suited to the eyes. some oculists prefer to have the light fall over the _left_ shoulder. the acuteness of this sense and the extent of its cultivation are very much greater in some individuals and classes of men than in others. this is a fact that has been remarked by observing persons. its consequences should not be overlooked, for they are neither few nor unimportant. those persons who have been long accustomed, either by the necessity of their situation, the example of those about them, or the judicious care of parents and teachers, to observe attentively the relations of parts, the symmetry of forms, or the shades of color, have eyes that are perpetually soliciting their minds to notice some beautiful or grand perceptions. wherever they turn, they espy some new, and, therefore, curious arrangement of the elements of shape, some striking combination of light and shade, or some delicious peculiarity of coloring. the multiplicity and variety of their perceptions must and do increase the number of their thoughts, or give to their thoughts greater compass and definiteness. such persons are likely to become poets, or painters, or sculptors, or architects. at any rate, they will appreciate and enjoy the productions of others who have devoted themselves to these delightful arts. and will not such persons be most readily awakened to descry and adore the power, the skill, and the beneficence of the great architect who reared the stupendous fabric of the universe, who devised the infinite variety of forms which diversify creation, and whose pencil has so profusely decked every work with myriads of mingling dyes, resulting all from a few parent colors? to an unpracticed eye, the beauties and wonders of creation are all lost. the surface of the earth is a blank, or, at best, but a confused and misty page. such an eye passes over this scene of things, and makes no communication to the mind that will awaken thought, much less enkindle the spirit of devout adoration, and fill the soul with love to him "whose universal love smiles every where." mr. may speaks no less sensibly than eloquently when he says, "i may be extravagant in my estimation of the importance of the culture of the eye and the ear, but so it is, that while i have been reading the writings of the hebrew prophets, and of those other gifted bards who communed so intently with nature and with nature's god, it has seemed to me impossible that any one could enter fully into all the tenderness, beauty, and sublimity of their language, or receive into his heart all its peculiarity of meaning, unless his own eye had been used to trace the skill of that hand which framed and fashioned every thing that is, and to descry the delicacy of that pencil which has painted all the flowers of the field, nor unless his own ear has learned to perceive the melody and harmony of sounds." we can discipline the sight directly, and to a very great extent; and we can have the satisfaction of perceiving the progressive improvement of the faculty. for this purpose, every school should be furnished with appropriate apparatus. a set of measures is indispensable. i will illustrate by an example. for the benefit of the primary department connected with a seminary of learning that was formerly for several years under my supervision, i constructed a set of rules for linear measurement. their breadth and thickness were uniform, each being an inch wide and half an inch thick. the set consisted of nine rules, whose lengths were as follows: four were each one foot long; one, a foot and a half long; two, two feet; one, two and a half feet; and one, three feet. every rule had a small hole bored through each end. i had also a number of small pins turned just the right size to fit these holes. i have since submitted to several hundred teachers, in institutes and elsewhere, my mode of combining and using these measures; and from the deep interest which a large number of intelligent parents and teachers in different localities have manifested in the subject, i venture to refer to it in this connection. i first tried the experiment ten years ago, with a class of about twenty children from four to seven years of age. several of these could not read, and some of them had not learned the alphabet. the children were first led to observe carefully the length of these several rules, until they could determine at sight the length of each. for several of the first lessons some of them would misjudge. they would, for instance, call a two foot rule one and a half or two and a half feet long. in such cases their judgments were immediately corrected by the application of two one foot rules. they were then led to observe with care, tables, desks, etc., and to estimate their length, and were afterward permitted to measure them, and discover the degree of accuracy in their decisions. after obtaining the opinions of the children in relation to the length or height of an object, i would measure it myself in the presence of the class. when the class became a little experienced, we examined the length, breadth, and height of rooms, of houses, and of churches; and then the distance of objects less or more remote, correcting or confirming their estimates by the application of the rule or measure, which gave a permanent interest to the exercise. by exercising the class in this manner, not to exceed half an hour a day, they would, at the end of the first quarter, judge of each other's height, of the height of persons generally, of the length of various objects, of the size of buildings, and of the dimensions of yards, gardens, and fields, with greater accuracy than the average of adult persons, as was tested by actual measurement in some instances where there was a disagreement in opinion. by holding these rules in different positions, the children readily became familiar with the meaning and practical application of the terms perpendicular, horizontal, and oblique. they would also tell which term is applicable to the different parts of the stove-pipe; to the different parts of the furniture of the school-room; to the floor, sides of the room, roof, etc.; and to all objects with which they were familiar. but the reader may inquire, what is the use of the holes and the pins? by pinning two rules together, one resting upon the other, and then turning one of them around, the class will readily gain a correct idea of the use of the term _angle_; also of the terms acute angle, right angle, and obtuse angle. by pinning three of these rules together at their ends, the children not only _see_, but can _handle_ the simplest form of geometrical figures. when this figure is _defined_, they are enabled permanently to possess themselves of the meaning of the word _triangle_, by the simultaneous exercise of _three senses_. by combining rules of the same and different lengths, they become familiar with equilateral, isosceles, scalene, right, and obtuse angled triangles. by combining, in this way, such a set of rules as i have described, the child readily becomes familiar with the names and many of the properties of more than half a score of geometrical figures, with less effort on the part of the teacher than would be required to teach the child the names of the same number of letters. these exercises, then, may well precede the learning of the alphabet, or, at least, proceed simultaneously with it. by this means the child's interest in the school is increased; his senses are cultivated; he is enabled better to fix his attention; he progresses more rapidly and thoroughly in his juvenile studies, and at the same time lays the foundation for future excellence in penmanship and drawing, and other useful arts. the child may also be taught to discriminate the varieties of green in leaves and other things; of yellow, red, and blue, in flowers and paints; and to distinguish not only the shades of all the colors, but their respective proportions in mixtures of two or more. many persons, for want of such early culture, have grown to years without the ability of distinguishing between colors, as others have who have neglected the culture of the ear without the ability of distinguishing between tunes. drawing, whether of maps, the shape of objects, or of landscapes, is admirably adapted to discipline the sight. children should be encouraged carefully to survey and accurately to describe the prominent points of a landscape, both in nature and in picture. let them point out the elevations and depressions; the mowing, the pasture, the wood, and the tillage land; the trees, the houses, and the streams. listen to their accounts of their plays, walks, and journeys, and of any events of which they have been witnesses. in these and all other exercises of the sight, children should be encouraged to be strictly accurate; and whenever it is practicable, the judgment they pronounce and the descriptions they give should, if erroneous, be corrected by the truth. children can not fail to be interested in such exercises; and even where they have been careless and inaccurate observers, they will soon become more watchful and exact. it is by the benign influences of education only that the senses can be improved. and still their culture has been entirely neglected by perhaps the majority of parents and teachers, who in other respects have manifested a commendable degree of interest in this subject. that by judicious culture the senses may be educated to activity and accuracy, and be made to send larger and purer streams of knowledge to the soul, has been unanswerably proved by an accumulation of unquestionable testimony. most persons, however, allow the senses to remain uneducated, except as they may be cultivated by fortuitous circumstances. eyes have they, but they see not; ears have they, but they hear not; neither do they understand. it is not impossible, nor perhaps improbable, that he who has these two senses properly cultivated will derive more unalloyed pleasure in spending a brief hour in gazing upon a beautiful landscape, in examining for the same length of time a simple flower, or in listening to the sweet melody of the linnet as it warbles its song of praise, than those who have neglected the cultivation of the senses experience during their whole lives! this subject commends itself to all who regard their individual happiness, or who desire to render their usefulness as extensive as possible. upon parents, teachers, and clergymen, who are more immediately concerned in the correct education of the rising generation, its claims are imperative. let them be met, in connection with other appropriate means now in use and hereafter to be put in requisition, and our schools can not fail to become increasingly attractive; truancy, hence, will be less frequent, and the benign influences resulting from the correct education of the _whole man_ will inspire the benevolent and philanthropic to renewed and increased efforts to secure the right education of _all men_, a condition upon which the maximum of human happiness depends. chapter vii. the necessity of moral and religious education. the exaltation of talent, as it is called, above virtue and religion, is the curse of the age. education is now chiefly a stimulus to learning, and thus men acquire power without the principles which alone make it a good. talent is worshiped; but if divorced from rectitude, it will prove more of a demon than a god.--channing. religion ought to be the basis of education, according to often-repeated writings and declamations. the assertion is true. christianity furnishes the true basis for raising up character; but the foundation must be laid in a very different manner from that which is commonly practiced. * * * we can, indeed, scarcely conceive of the purity, the self-denial, and the power that might be given to human character by systematic development.--lalor. we have now reached a department of our subject of surpassing importance, for however judiciously physical and intellectual cultivation may have been conducted, if we make a mistake here, all is lost. knowledge is _power_, it is true; but we should bear in mind that it is potent for evil as well as for good; and that, whether its effects be good or ill, depends entirely upon the dispositions and sentiments by which it is impelled and guided. numerous have been the instances illustrative of the fact that the greatest scourges of our race are men of gigantic _cultivated_ intellect. where knowledge but qualifies its possessor for inflicting misery, ignorance would indeed be bliss. i find my views on this important subject so admirably expressed in the writings of some of the most eminent men of the age, that i feel it both a privilege and a duty to enforce the sentiments i would inculcate by the introduction of their testimony. dr. humphrey observes,[ ] that "it must strike every one who is capable of taking a just and comprehensive view of the subject, that the common idea of a good education--of such an education as every child in the state ought to receive--is exceedingly narrow and defective. most men leave out, or regard as of very little importance, some of the essential elements. they seem to forget that the child has a _conscience_ and a _heart_ to be educated as well as an _intellect_. if they do not lay too much stress on mental culture, which, indeed, is hardly possible, they lay by far too little upon that which is moral and religious. they expect to elevate the child to his proper station in society, to make him wise and happy, an honest man, a virtuous citizen, and a good patriot, by furnishing him with a comfortable school-house, suitable class-books, competent teachers, and, if he is poor, paying his quarter bills, while they greatly underrate, if they do not entirely overlook, that high moral training, without which knowledge is the power of doing evil rather than good. it may possibly nurture up a race of intellectual giants, but, like the sons of anak, they will be far readier to trample down the lord's heritage than to protect and cultivate it. [ ] in a lecture before the american institute of instruction, on the moral and religious training of children. "education is not a talismanic word, but an _art_, or rather a _science_; and, i may add, the most important of all sciences. it is the right, the proper training of the _whole man_, the thorough and symmetrical cultivation of all his noble faculties. if he were endowed with a mere physical nature, he would need, he would _receive_ none but a physical training. on the other hand, if he were a purely intellectual being, intellectual culture would comprehend all that could be included in a perfect education. and were it possible for a moral being to exist without either body or intellect, there would be nothing but the heart or affections to educate. but man is a complex, and not a simple being. he is neither all body, nor all mind, nor all heart. in popular language, he has three natures, a corporeal, a rational, and a moral. these three, mysteriously united, are essential to constitute a perfect man; and as they all begin to expand in very early childhood, the province of education is to watch, and assist, and shape the development; to train, and strengthen, and discipline neither of them alone, but each according to its intrinsic and relative importance. "when it is said that 'man is a religious being,' we should carefully inquire in what respects he is so. in a guarded and limited sense the proposition is undoubtedly true. terrible as was the shock which his moral nature received by 'the fall,' it was not wholly buried in the ruins. though blackened and crushed to the effacing of that glorious image in which he was created, his moral susceptibilities were not destroyed. the capacity of being restored, and of infinite improvement in knowledge and virtue, was left. in the lowest depths of ignorance and debasement, the human soul feels that it must have some religion, some support, some refuge 'when flesh and heart fail.' there is a natural dread of annihilation, a longing after immortality, a starting back from the last leap in the dark. men, if they have not true religion, will cling to the greatest absurdities as substitutes. hence the pagan world is full of idols. tribes and nations seemingly destitute of all moral sense, nevertheless have 'gods many and lords many.' if there are any cold-blooded, incorrigible atheists in the world, you must look for them not in heathen lands. you must go where the altars of the true god have been thrown down. in this view, _man is a religious being_. he has a moral nature. he is susceptible of deep and controlling religious impressions. he can, at a very early period of life, be made to see and feel the difference between right and wrong--between good and evil. he can, while yet a child, be influenced by hope and by fear--by reason, by persuasion, and by the word of god; and all this shows that religion was intended to be a prominent part of his education. there can be no mistake in this. it is plainly the will of god that the moral as well as the intellectual faculties should be cultivated. every child, whether in the family or the school, is to be treated by those who have the care of him as a moral and accountable being. his religious susceptibilities invite to the most diligent culture, and virtually enjoin it upon every teacher. the simple study of man's moral nature, before we open the bible, unavoidably leads to the conclusion that any system of popular education must be extremely defective which does not make special prevision for this branch of public instruction. "even if there had been no fatal lapse of our race--if our children were not naturally depraved, nor inclined to evil in the slightest degree, still they would need religious as well as physical and intellectual guidance and discipline. it is true, the educator's task would be infinitely easier and pleasanter than it now is, but they would need instruction. they would enter the world just as ignorant of their immortal destiny as of letters. they would have every thing to learn about the being and perfections of god; every thing about his rightful claims as their creator, preserver, and moral governor; and every thing touching their duties and relations to their fellow-men. moreover, there is every reason to believe that moral and religious training would be necessary _to strengthen the principle of virtue_ in the rising generation, and confirm them in habits of obedience and benevolence. as, notwithstanding their bodies are perfect bodies, and their minds perfect minds at their creation, no member or faculty being wanting, still they need all the helps of education; so, if they had a perfectly upright moral nature, they would need the same helps. there is no more reason to think, had sin never entered into the world, every child would have grown up to the 'fullness of the stature of a perfect man' in a religious sense, without an appropriate education, than that he would have become a scholar without it. but the little beings that are all the while springing into life around us to be educated are the sinful offspring of apostate parents. how deeply depraved, how strongly inclined to sin from the cradle, this is not the place to inquire. all agree that they show an early bias in the wrong direction; and that, left to grow up without moral culture and restraint, the great majority would go far astray, and become bad members of society. this is sufficient for our present argument. the evil bias must be counteracted. for the safety of the state, as well as for their own sakes, all its children must be brought under the forming and sanative influence of religious education. no adequate substitute was ever devised, or ever can be. 'train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.' this is divine; and the opposite is equally true. train up a child in the way he should _not_ go, or--which comes to about the same thing--leave him to take the wrong way of his own accord, and when he is old he will not depart from that. his tread will be heavier and heavier upon the broad and beaten track. 'men do not gather grapes of thorns, nor figs of thistles.' 'can the ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his spots? then may those also do good who are accustomed to do evil.' "moral and religious training ought, undoubtedly, to be commenced in every family much earlier than children are sent to school, and no parent can throw off upon the schoolmaster the responsibility of bringing them up in the 'nurture and admonition of the lord.' he must himself teach them the good way, and lead them along in it by his own example. but few parents, however, have the leisure and ability to do all that is demanded in this vitally essential branch of education. all are entitled to the aid of their pastors and religious teachers; and every good shepherd will feel a tender concern for the lambs of his flock, and will feed them with the sincere milk of the word both in the sanctuary and at the fireside. but the work should not stop here. there ought to be a co-operation of good influences in all the seminaries of learning, and especially in the primary schools. this co-operation would be necessary if moral and religious household instruction were universally given, and if all the children of the state regularly attended public worship, and enjoyed the benefits of catechetical and sabbath-school teaching. but those who would banish religion from our admirable systems of popular education by the plea that it belongs exclusively to the family and the church, ought to remember what multitudes of children this exclusion would deprive of their birth-right as members of a christian community. there are tens of thousands in our own heaven-blessed new england, and hundreds of thousands in these united states, who receive no religious instruction whatever at home, and whose parents are connected with no religious denomination. what is to be done? we can neither compel ignorant and graceless fathers and mothers to teach their children the fear of the lord, nor to send them to any place of worship or sabbath-school. i ask again, what is to be done? these neglected children are in the midst of us. our cities swarm with them. they are scattered every where over our beautiful hills and valleys. grow up they will among our own children, without principle and without morals, to breathe mildew upon the young virtues which we have sown in our families, and to prey upon the dearest interests of society, unless somebody cares for their moral and religious education. and where shall they receive this education, if not in the school-house? you will find them there, if in any place of instruction, and multitudes of them you can reach nowhere else. "a more utopian dream never visited the brain of a sensible man than that which promises to usher in a new golden age by the diffusion and thoroughness of what is commonly understood by popular education. with all its funds, and improved school-houses, and able teachers, and grammars, and maps, and black-boards, such an education is essentially defective. without moral principle at bottom to guide and control its energies, education is a sharp sword in the hands of a practiced and reckless fencer. i have no hesitation in saying, that if we could have but one, moral and religious culture is even more important than a knowledge of letters; and that the former can not be excluded from any system of popular education without infinite hazard. happily, the two are so far from being hostile powers in the common domain, that they are natural allies, moving on harmoniously in the same right line, and mutually strengthening each other. the more virtue you can infuse into the hearts of your pupils, the better they will improve their time, and the more rapid will be their proficiency in their common studies. the most successful teachers have found the half hour devoted to moral and religious instruction more profitable to the scholar than any other half hour in the day; and there are no teachers who govern their schools with so much ease as this class. though punishment is sometimes necessary where moral influence has done its utmost, the conscience is, in all ordinary cases, an infinitely better disciplinarian than the rod. when you can get a school to obey and to study because it is right, and from a conviction of accountability to god, you have gained a victory which is worth more than all the penal statutes in the world; but you can never gain such a victory without laying great stress upon religious principle in your daily instructions. "there is, i am aware, in the minds of some warm and respectable friends of popular education, an objection against incorporating religious instruction into the system as one of its essential elements. it can not, they think, be done without bringing in along with it the evils of sectarianism. if this objection could not be obviated, it would, i confess, have great weight in my own mind. it supposes that if any religious instruction is given, the distinctive tenets of some particular denomination must be inculcated. but is this at all necessary? must we either exclude religion altogether from our common schools, or teach some one of the many creeds which are embraced by as many different sects in the ecclesiastical calendar? surely not. there are certain great moral and religious principles in which all denominations are agreed; such as the ten commandments, our savior's golden rule--every thing, in short, which lies within the whole range of duty to god and duty to our fellow-men. i should be glad to know what sectarianism there can be in a schoolmaster's teaching my children the first and second tables of the moral law; to 'love the lord their god with all their heart, and their neighbor as themselves;' in teaching them to keep the sabbath holy, to honor their parents, not to swear, nor drink, nor lie, nor cheat, nor steal, nor covet. verily, if this is what any mean by sectarianism, then the more we have of it in our common schools the better. 'it is a lamentation, and shall be for a lamentation,' that there is so little of it. i have not the least hesitation in saying, that no instructor, whether male or female, ought ever to be employed who is not both able and willing to teach morality and religion in the manner which i have just alluded to. were this faithfully done in all the primary schools of the nation, our civil and religious liberties, and all our blessed institutions, would be incomparably safer than they are now. the parent who says, i do not send my child to school to learn religion, but to be taught reading, and writing, and grammar, knows not 'what manner of spirit he is of.' it is very certain, that such a father will teach his children any thing but religion at home; and is it right that they should be left to grow up as heathens in a christian land? if he says to the schoolmaster, i do not wish you to make my son an episcopalian, a baptist, a presbyterian, or a methodist, very well. that is not the schoolmaster's business. he was not hired to teach sectarianism. but if the parent means to say, i do not send my child to school to have you teach him to fear god and keep his commandments, to be temperate, honest, and true, to be a good son and a good man, then the child is to be pitied for having such a father; and with good reason might we tremble for all that we hold most dear, if such remonstrances were to be multiplied and to prevail. "in this connection i can not refrain from earnestly recommending the daily reading of the scriptures, and prayer,[ ] in all our schools, as eminently calculated to exert a powerful moral influence upon the scholars. it is melancholy to think what swarms of children are growing up even in massachusetts--and what multitudes of them in every one of these united states--who will seldom, if ever, hear the voice of prayer if they do not hear it in the schools, and to whom the bible will remain a sealed book if it be not opened there. i would not insist that _every_ primary teacher should be absolutely required to open or close the school daily with prayer. great and good as i think the influence of such an arrangement would be, it might be impossible, at present, to find a sufficient number of instructors otherwise well qualified who are fitted to lead in this exercise. the number, however, i believe is steadily increasing. it is probably too late for me, but i hope that some of you, gentlemen, may live to see the time when the voice of prayer, and of praise too, will be heard in every school-house of the land. could i know that this would be the case, it would give me a confidence in the perpetuity of our civil and religious liberties which i should exceedingly rejoice to cherish as i pass off from the stage." [ ] i would not be understood to recommend that any person who does not love the bible, and the doctrines which it inculcates, and who does not seek after that purity of heart which it every where enjoins, should conduct devotional exercises in school; but i would respectfully inquire whether any who do not _delight_ in such exercises, and who do not esteem it a _privilege_ to lead the devotions of those under their charge, do not lack an _essential_ qualification to teach school. our laws generally require that the school-teacher be, among other things, _well qualified in respect to moral character_ to instruct _a primary school._ it would seem that these patriotic sentiments, enforced by such persuasive eloquence by this venerable man, can hardly fail to find a permanent lodgment in every truly american bosom. the great principles of natural and revealed religion, in which all are agreed, ought to be inculcated in our common school-books,[ ] just as every teacher ought orally to instill these principles into the minds of his pupils. that will be a happy day, especially to the children of ignorant and vicious parents, when they shall learn more of that "fear of the lord which is the beginning of knowledge" in the school-house than they have ever yet done. nor is it discovered that the practice of teaching morals according to the christian code, and using the bible for that purpose, the great majority adopting it, is any infringement whatever on the religious rights and liberty of any individual. [ ] the day of writing the above, a lady mentioned to me the following gratifying illustration of my idea. the subject of it is a little girl only five years of age, who has never attended school, but has learned to read at home, under her mother's tuition. after reading in the first number of one of our excellent series of reading books, the story of "the honest boy" who never told a lie, for perhaps the twentieth time, the little girl said to her mother, "mother, i like to read this story, for it always makes me feel very happy." similar instances i have witnessed scores of times, in the family and in the school. teachers may almost invariably lead their scholars to admire and copy the examples of good children about whom they read, and to dislike and avoid those of bad ones. this power over children should always be exercised for good. the anecdote of the indian touching this subject may arrest the attention of some reader who would otherwise peruse these paragraphs without profit, and fix indelibly in his mind the sentiment i would inculcate, and i therefore insert it. the indian inquires of the white man what religion he professes. the white man replies, "_not any._" "_not any?_" says the indian, in astonishment; "then you are _just like my dog_; he's got no religion." we have _men_ enough like the indian's dog, without teaching our _children_ to be like him. the french, in the days of the revolution, voted god from his throne. they abolished the sabbath, and declared that christianity was a nullity. they set apart one day in ten, not for religion, but for idleness and licentiousness. history informs us that the goddess of reason, personified by a naked prostitute, was drawn in triumph through the streets of paris, and that the municipal officers of the city, and the members of the national convention of france, joined publicly in the impious parade. we need not wonder, then, that even the forms of religion were destroyed, and that licentiousness and profligacy walked forth unveiled. how unlike this is the state of things in these united states! we are professedly a christian nation. we recognize the existence of a superior and superintending power in all our institutions. the new world was early sought by a christian people, that fled from oppression in order to find a home where they might worship god unmolested, and bequeath to posterity the same inestimable privilege and inalienable right. in the days of the revolution, washington and his coadjutors were accustomed to invoke the blessing of the god of battles; and without his favor, they looked not for victory. in the congress of this great nation, and in our state legislatures, we are accustomed to acknowledge our dependence upon god in employing chaplains with whom we unite in daily devotions. the constitution of the united states requires that all legislative, executive, and judicial officers in the united states, and in the several states, shall be bound by oath or affirmation to support the constitution. the constitution of each of the several states requires a similar oath or affirmation; and some of them further provide that, in addition to the oath of office, all persons appointed to places of profit or trust shall, before entering upon the same, subscribe a declaration of their faith in the christian religion. in our penitentiaries even, we employ chaplains for the social, moral, and religious improvement of criminals confined within them; for our object is, not merely to _deter others_ from vice by the punishment of offenders, but, if possible, _to reform the offenders themselves_, and, bringing them back to virtue, make them useful members both of christian and of civil society. should we not, then, recognize god in our common schools--the primary training-places of our country's youth--by reading his word, and familiarizing the juvenile mind of the nation with the precepts of the great teacher, whose code of morals is acknowledged, even by infidels, to be infinitely superior to any of human origin? and should we not humbly invoke his aid in our efforts to learn and to do his will? and his blessing to attend those efforts? a paul may plant, and apollos water; but god giveth the increase. the instruction in our common schools, i repeat, should be christian, but not sectarian. there is sufficient common ground which all true believers in christianity agree in, to effect an incalculable amount of good, if honestly and faithfully taught. which of the various religious sects in our country would take exceptions to the inculcation of the following sentiments, and kindred ones expressed in every part of the scriptures? "thou shalt love the lord thy god with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. this is the first and great commandment. and the second is like unto it, thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." "as ye would that men should do to you, do ye also to them likewise." "love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you and persecute you." if there is a single instance in which a sect of professing christians would take exceptions to the inculcation of these and kindred sentiments in all the schools of our land, i have yet to learn it. on the contrary, i have received and accepted invitations from scores of clergymen, representing not less than eight different denominations, to address their congregations on the subject of "moral and religious education in common schools;" and, having expressed the sentiments herein advocated, i have, in every instance, received letters of approval and encouragement; and their hearty prayers and active co-operation have confirmed me in the belief that they are ready and willing to "work together" upon this common platform, in advancing the interests of this glorious cause. i have spoken of the christian religion as the most important branch of a common school education. the cultivation of the intellectual faculties alone constitutes no sufficient guaranty that the subject of it will become either a virtuous man, a good neighbor, or a useful citizen. but where physical education has been properly attended to, if we combine with the cultivation of the intellectual faculties of a child a good moral and religious education, we have the highest and most unquestionable authority for believing that, in after life, he will "do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with god." "the bible, in several expressive texts," says dr. stowe,[ ] "gives emphatic utterance to the true principle of all right education. for example, 'the fear of the lord is the beginning of wisdom, and a knowledge of the holy is understanding.' religion must be the basis of all right education; and an education without religion is an education for perdition. religion, in its most general sense, is the union of the soul to its creator; a union of sympathy, originating in affection, and guided by intelligence. the word is derived from the latin terms _re_ and _ligo_, and signifies to _tie again_, or _reunite_. the soul, sundered from god by sin, by grace is _reunited_ to him; and this is _religion_." [ ] in a lecture before the american institute of instruction, on the religious element in education. i might present many and substantial reasons why instruction in the principles of religion should be given in our common schools and in all our institutions of learning, and why those heaven-given principles should be exemplified wherever taught. _the nature of the human mind requires it_, as is clearly shown by the writer last quoted. "the mind is created, and god is its creator. every mind is conscious to itself that it is not self-existent or independent, but that its existence is a derived one, and its condition one of entire, uniform, unceasing dependence. this feeling is as truly a part of the essential constitution of the mind as the desire for food is of the body, and it never can be totally suppressed. if it ever seems to be annihilated, it is only for a very brief interval; and any man who would persist in affirming himself to be self-existent and independent, would be universally regarded as insane. the sympathy which attracts the sexes toward each other is not more universal nor generally stronger than that inward want which makes the whole human race feel the need of god; and, indeed, the feelings are, in many respects, so analogous to each other, that all ancient mysteries of mythology, and the bible itself, have selected this sympathy as the most expressive, the most unvarying symbol of the relation between the soul and god. "till men can be taught to live and be healthy and strong without food; till some way is discovered in which the social state can be perpetuated and made happy, with a total separation of the sexes; till the time arrives when these things can be done, we can not expect to relieve the human mind from having some kind of religious faith. this being the fact, a system of education which excludes attention from this part of the mental constitution is as essentially incomplete as a system of military tactics that has no reference to fighting battles; a system of mechanics which teaches nothing respecting machinery; a system of agriculture that has nothing to do with planting and harvesting; a system of astronomy which never alludes to the stars; a system of politics which gives no intimation on government; or any thing else which professes to be a system, and leaves out the very element most essential to its existence. the history of all ages, of all nations, and of all communities is a continued illustration of this truth. where did the nation ever exist untouched either by religion or superstition? which never had either a theology or a mythology? when you find a nation that exists without food of some sort, then you may find a nation that subsists without religion of some sort; and never, _never_ before. how unphilosophical, how absurd it is, then, to pretend that a system of education may be complete, and yet make no provision for this part of the mental constitution! it is one of the grossest fooleries which the wickedness of man has ever led him to commit. but it is not only unphilosophical and foolish, it is also exceedingly mischievous; for where religion is withheld, the mind inevitably falls to superstition, as certainly as when wholesome food is withheld the sufferer will seek to satisfy his cravings with the first deleterious substance which comes within his reach. the only remedy against superstition is sound religious instruction. the want exists in the soul. it is no factitious, no accidental or temporary want, but an essential part of our nature. it is an urgent, imperious want; it must and will seek the means of satisfaction, and if a healthful supply be withheld, a noxious one will be substituted." the bible in schools.--having taken the liberty of recommending the devotional reading of the scriptures in all the public schools as eminently calculated to make them what they ought to be--nurseries of morality and religion as well as of good learning--i am now prepared to express the strong conviction, to adopt the language of dr. humphrey, "_that the bible ought to be used in every primary school as a class-book_. i am not ignorant of the objections which even some good men are wont to urge against its introduction. the bible, it is said, is too sacred a volume to be put on a level with common school-books, and to be thumbed over and thrown about by dirty hands. this objection supposes that if the bible is made a school-book, it must needs be put into such rude hands; and that it can not be daily read in the classes without diminishing the reverence with which it ought to be regarded as the book of god. but i would have it used chiefly by the older scholars, who, if the teachers are not in the fault, will rarely deface it. a few words now and then, reminding them of its sacred contents, will be sufficient to protect it from rough and vulgar usage. "the objection that making the bible a common school-book would detract from its sacredness in the eyes of the children, and thus blunt rather than quicken their moral susceptibilities, is plausible; but it will not, i am confident, bear the test of examination and experience. what were the scriptures given us for, if not to be read by the old and the young, the high and the low? is the common use of any good thing which a kind providence intended for all, calculated to make men underrate it? the best of heaven's gifts, it is true, are _liable_ to be perverted and abused; but ought this to deter us from using them thankfully and properly? we, the descendants of the puritans, are so far from regarding the bible as too sacred for common use, that, however we may differ among ourselves in other respects, we cordially unite in efforts to put the sacred treasure in the hands of all the people. it is one of our cardinal principles, as protestants, that the more they read the scriptures the better. are we right or are we wrong here? let us bring the question to the test of experience. who are the most moral and well-principled class in the community? those who have been accustomed from childhood to read the bible, till it has become the most familiar of all books, or those who read it but little? of two schools, of equal advantages in other respects, which is best regulated and most easily governed? which has most of the fear of god in it, the deepest reverence for his word, that where the bible is read or from which it is excluded? it is easy for ingenious men to reason plausibly, and tell us that such and such injurious effects _must_ follow from making sacred things too familiar to the youthful mind; but who ever heard of such effects following from the use of the bible as a school-book? it will be time enough to listen to this objection when a solitary example can be adduced to sustain it. "how do all other men out of the protestant communion, papists, mohammedans, jews, and gentiles, reason and act in the education of their children? do they discard their sacred books from the schools as too holy for common and familiar use? no. they understand the influence of such reading far too well, and are too strongly attached to their respective religions to exclude it. the romanists, indeed, forbid the use of the scriptures to the common people; but the missal and the breviary, which they hold to be quite as sacred, are their most familiar school-books. a large portion of the children's time is taken up with reading the lessons and reciting the prayers; and what are the effects? do they become disgusted with the missal and breviary by this daily familiarity? we all know the contrary. the very opposite effect is produced. it is astonishing to see with what tenacity children thus educated cling to the superstitions and absurdities of their fathers; and it is because their religion is wrought into the very texture of their minds, in the schools as well as in the churches. go to turkey, to persia, to all the lands scorched and blighted by the fiery train of the crescent, and what school-books will you find but portions of the koran? pass to hindostan, and there you will find the vedas and shasters wherever any thing like popular education is attempted. enter the great empire of china, and, according to the best information we can obtain, their sacred books are the school-books of that vast and teeming population. inquire among the jews, wherever in their various dispersions they have established schools, and what will you find but the law and the prophets, the targums and the talmud. "now when and where did ever protestant children grow up with a greater reverence for the bible, a stronger attachment to their religion, than jewish, mohammedan, and pagan children cherish for their school-books, to the study of which they are almost exclusively confined, in every stage of their education? it is opposing theory, then, to great and undeniable facts, to say that using the christian scriptures in this manner would detract from their sacredness in the eyes of our children. if this is ever the case, it must be where the teacher himself is a gallio, and lacks those moral qualifications which are essential to his profession. another objection which is sometimes brought against the use of the bible is, that considerable portions of it--though all true, and important as a part of our great religious charter--are not suitable for common and promiscuous reading. my answer is, we do not suppose that any instructor would take all his classes through the whole bible, from genesis to revelation. the genealogical tables, and some other things, he would omit of course, but would always find lessons enough to which the most fastidious could make no objection. "the way is now prepared to take an affirmative attitude, and offer some reasons in favor of using the bible as a school-book. in the first place, _it is the cheapest school-book in the world_. it furnishes more reading for _fifty cents_ than can be obtained in common school-books for _two dollars_. this difference of cost is, to the poor, an important consideration. with large families on their hands, they often find it extremely difficult to meet the demands of teachers and committees for new books. were the scriptures generally introduced, they would take the place of many other reading-books which parents are now obliged to purchase at four-fold expense. this would be a cogent argument on the score of economy, even if the popular school-books of this year were sure of maintaining their ground the next. but so busy is the press in bringing forward new claimants to public favor, that they rapidly supplant each other, and thus the burden is greatly increased. "in the next place, _the bible furnishes a far greater variety of the finest reading-lessons than any other book whatever_. this is a point to which my attention has been turned for many years, and the conviction grows upon me continually. there is no book in which children a little advanced beyond the simplest monosyllabic lessons will learn to read faster, or more readily catch the proprieties of inflection, emphasis, and cadence, than the bible. i would by no means put it into the hands of a child to spell out and blunder over the chapters before he has read any thing else. the word of god ought not to be so used by mere beginners. but it contains lessons adapted to all classes of learners, after the first and simplest stage. let any teacher who has never made the trial put a young class into the first chapter of john, and he will be surprised to find how easy the reading is, and with what pleasure and manifest improvement they may be carried through the whole gospel; and as few are too young to read with advantage in the bible, so none are too old. it is known to every body, that the very best reading lessons in our most popular school-books for the higher classes are taken from the scriptures. just open the sacred volume with reference to this single point, and turn over its thousand pages. as a history, to interest, instruct, and improve the youthful mind, what other book in the world can compare with it? where else will you find such exquisitely finished pieces of biography? such poetry? such genuine and lofty eloquence? such rich and varied specimens of tenderness, pathos, beauty, and sublimity? i regret that i have not room for a few quotations. i can only refer, in very general terms, to the history of the creation; of joseph and the forty years' wandering in the wilderness; to the book of job; to the psalms of david; to isaiah; to the gospels; and to the visions of john in the isle of patmos. "now if the primary qualities of a good school-book are to teach the art of reading, and to communicate instruction upon the most interesting and important subjects, i have no hesitation in saying that the bible stands pre-eminently above every other. if i were again to become a primary instructor, or to teach the art of reading in any higher seminary than the common school-house, i would take the bible in preference to any twenty 'orators' or 'english readers' that i have ever seen. indeed, i would scarcely want any other. milton and shakspeare i would not reject, but i would do very well without them, for they are both surpassed by isaiah and john. let enlightened teachers, and members of any of the learned professions, read over aloud, in their best manner, such portions of scripture as they may easily select, and see if they have ever found any thing better fitted to bring out and discipline the voice, and to express all the emotions in which the soul of true eloquence is bodied forth. why do the masters of oratory, who charm great audiences with their recitations, take so many of their themes from the bible? the reason is obvious. they can find none so well suited to their purpose. and why should not the common schools, in which are nurtured so many of the future orators, and rulers, and teachers of the land, have the advantage of the best of all reading-lessons? moreover, since so much of the sense of scripture depends upon the manner in which it is read, why should not the thousands of children be taught the art in school, who will never learn it at home? the more i study the bible, the more does it appear to me to excel all other reading-books. you may go on improving indefinitely, without ever making yourself a perfect scriptural reader, just as you might, with all the help you can command, spend your whole life in the study of any one of its great truths without exhausting it. let it not be said that we have but few instructors who are capable of entering into the spirit of the sacred volume, so as to teach their scholars to read it with propriety. then let more be educated. it ought to be one of the daily exercises in our normal schools, and other seminaries for raising up competent teachers, to qualify them for this branch of instruction." i remark again, that were the bible made a school-book throughout the commonwealth and throughout the land, _an amount of scriptural knowledge would be insensibly treasured up, which would be of inestimable value in after life_. every observing teacher must have been surprised to find how much the dullest scholar will learn by the ear, without seeming to pay any attention to what others are reading or reciting. the boy that sits half the time upon his little bench nodding or playing with his shoe-strings, will, in the course of a winter, commit whole pages and chapters to memory from the books he hears read, when you can hardly beat any thing into him by dint of the most diligent instruction. indeed, i have sometimes thought that children in our common schools learn more by the ear, without any effort, than by the study of their own class-books; and i am quite sure this is the case with the most of the younger scholars. let any book be read for a series of years in the same school, and half of the children will know most of it by heart. wherever there are free schools--and the free school system is now becoming extensively adopted in every part of the united states--the great mass of the children are kept at school from four or five years of age, to nine or ten, through the year; and in the winter season, from nine or ten to fifteen or sixteen. the average of time thus devoted to their education is from eight to ten years. now let the bible be read daily as a class-book during all this time, in every school, and how much of it will, without effort, and without interfering in the least with other studies, be committed to memory. and who can estimate the value of such an acquisition? what pure morality; what maxims of supreme wisdom for guidance along the slippery paths of youth, and onward through every stage of life; what bright examples of early piety, and of its glorious rewards, even in the present world; what sublime revelations of the being and perfections of god; what incentives to love and serve him, and to discharge with fidelity all the duties which we owe to our fellow-men! and all these enforced by the highest sanctions of future accountability. let any man tell, if he can, how much all this store of divine knowledge, thus insensibly acquired, would be worth to the millions of children who are growing up in these united states of america. they might not be at all sensible of its value at the time, but how happily and safely would it contribute to shape their future opinions and characters, both as men and as citizens. another cogent reason for using the bible as a common school-book is, that _it is the firmest basis, and, indeed, the only sure basis of our free institutions, and, as such, ought to be familiar to all the children in the state from their earliest years_. while it recognizes the existence of civil governments, and enjoins obedience to magistrates as ministers of god for the good of the people, it regards all men as free and equal, the children of one common father, and entitled to the same civil and religious privileges. i do not believe that any people could ever be enslaved who should be thoroughly and universally educated in the principles of the bible. it was no less truly than eloquently said by daniel webster, in his bunker hill address, that "the american colonists brought with them from the old world a full portion of all the riches of the past in science and art, and in morals, religion, and literature. the _bible_ came with them. and it is not to be doubted that to the _free_ and _universal_ use of the bible it is to be ascribed that in that age men were much indebted for right views of civil liberty. the bible is a book of faith and a book of doctrine; but it is also a book which teaches man his individual responsibility, his own dignity, and equality with his fellow-men." these sentiments of the great american statesman are worthy to be engraved in golden capitals upon the monument under whose shade they were uttered! yes, it was the free and universal use of the bible which made our puritan fathers what they were; and it is because, in these degenerate times, multitudes of children will be taught to read it nowhere else, that i am so anxious to have it read as a school-book. one other, and the only additional reason which i shall suggest, is that, as the bible is _infinitely the best_, so it is the only decidedly _religious book_ which can be introduced into our popular systems of early education. so jealous are the different sects and denominations of each other, that it would be hardly possible to write or compile a religious school-book with which all would be satisfied. but here is a book prepared to our hands, which we all receive as the inspired record of our faith, and as containing the purest morality that has ever been taught in this lower world. episcopalians can not object to it, because they believe it teaches the doctrines and polity of their own church; and this is just what they want. neither congregationalists, presbyterians, baptists, methodists, universalists, nor any other denomination, can object to it for the same reason. every denomination believes, so far as it differs from the rest, that the bible is on its side, and, of course, that the more it is read by all, the better. for me to object to having the bible read as a common school-book on account of any doctrine which those who differ from me suppose it to teach, would be virtually to confess that i had not full confidence in my own creed, and was afraid it would not bear a scriptural test. it seems to me an infinite advantage, for which we are bound devoutly to thank the author of all good, that he has given us a religious book of incomparable excellence, which we may fearlessly put into the hands of all the children in the state, with the assurance that it is able to make them "wise unto salvation," and will certainly make them better children, better friends, and better members of society, so far as it influences them at all. but some persons who highly approve of daily scriptural reading in common schools are in favor of using _selections_ rather than the whole bible. i should certainly prefer this, provided the selections are judiciously made, to excluding the scriptures altogether; but i think there are weighty and obvious reasons why the _whole_ bible should be taken rather than a part. the whole is cheaper than half would be in a separate volume; and when the whole is introduced, "without note or comment," there can be no possible ground for sectarian jealousy. doctors of divinity not only, but the most eminent statesmen in the country, hold the views here presented. the bold and noble stand taken by the legislature of new york more than ten years ago ( ), has revived the hopes and infused fresh courage into the minds of those who believe that the safety and welfare of our country are essentially dependent on the prevalence of a "_religious_ morality and a _moral_ religion." the representatives of this great state, whose system of education is becoming increasingly an object of imitation in all the rest, at one and the same session doubled the amount of the public money for the purpose of improving the education given in the common schools--which, to the praise of that state, be it said, are _now free_--and in reply to the petition of sundry persons, praying that all religious exercises and the use of the bible might be prohibited in the public schools, decided by a vote of _one hundred and twenty-one_ to one! that the request of the petitioners be not granted. for the purpose of corroborating the doctrines of this volume, i will introduce a paragraph from the report of the hon. daniel d. barnard on the occasion referred to, which was sustained by the noble, unequivocal, and almost unanimous testimony of the representatives of the most powerful member of the american states. "moral instruction is quite as important to the object had in view in popular education as intellectual instruction; it is indispensable to that object. but, to make instruction effective, it should be given according to the best code of morals known to the country and the age; and that code, it is universally conceded, is contained in the bible. hence the bible, as containing that code, so far from being arbitrarily excluded from our schools, ought to be in common use in them. keeping all the while in view the object of popular education, the fitting of the people by _moral_ as well as by _intellectual_ discipline for self-government, no one can doubt that any system of instruction which overlooks the training and informing of the moral faculties must be wretchedly and fatally defective. crime and intellectual cultivation merely, so far from being dissociated in history and statistics, are unhappily old acquaintances and tried friends. to neglect the moral powers in education is to educate not quite half the man. to cultivate the intellect only is to unhinge the mind and destroy the essential balance of the mental powers; it is to light up a recess only the better to see how dark it is. and if this is all that is done in popular education, then nothing, literally nothing, is done toward establishing popular virtue and forming a moral people." this is but a specimen of an invaluable document, which does honor to the heart and head of him who penned it, and to the legislature of the commonwealth by which it was adopted by almost unparalleled unanimity. the hon. samuel young, the eminently distinguished superintendent of common schools in the same state, in a report made in , inculcates sentiments which so well accord with my own views of the importance of weaving scriptural reading into the very warp and woof of popular education, that i gladly add his testimony. "i regard the new testament as in all respects a suitable book to be daily read in our common schools, and i earnestly recommend its general introduction for this purpose. as a mere reading-book, intended to convey a practical knowledge of the english language, it is one of the best text-books in use; but this, although of great use to the pupils, is of minor importance when the moral influences of the book are duly considered. education consists of something more than mere instruction. it is that training and discipline of all the faculties of the mind which shall symmetrically and harmoniously develop the future man for usefulness and for happiness in sustaining the various relations of life. it must be based upon knowledge and virtue; and its gradual advancement must be strictly subordinated to those cardinal and elementary principles of morality, which are nowhere so distinctly and beautifully inculcated as in that book from whence we all derive our common faith. the nursery and family fireside may accomplish much; the institutions of religion may exert a pervading influence; but what is commenced in the hallowed sanctuary of the domestic circle, and periodically inculcated at the altar, must be daily and hourly recognized in the common schools, that it may exert an ever-present influence, enter into and form a part of every act of life, and become thoroughly incorporated with the rapidly expanding character. the same incomparable standard of moral virtue and excellence, which is expounded from the pulpit and the altar, and which is daily held up to the admiration and imitation of the family circle, should also be reverently kept before the mind and the heart in the daily exercises of the school." i will add the testimony of another whom we all delight to honor. never were sentiments uttered more worthy to be remembered and repeated through all generations, than those which fell from the father of his country in his farewell address to the american people. "of all the dispositions and habits which lead to political prosperity, religion and morality are indispensable supports. in vain would that man claim the tribute of patriotism who should labor to subvert these great pillars of human happiness, these firmest props of the duties of men and citizens. the mere politician, equally with the pious man, ought to respect and cherish them. a volume could not trace all their connections with private and public felicity. let it simply be asked. where is the security for property, for reputation, for life, if a sense of religious obligation desert the oaths which are the instruments of investigation in courts of justice? and let us with caution indulge the supposition that _morality_ can be maintained _without religion_. whatever may be conceded to the influence of refined education on minds of peculiar structure, reason and experience both forbid us to expect that national morality can prevail in exclusion of religious principles." how noble, how elevated, how just these parting words. washington was an enlightened christian patriot, as well as a great general and a wise statesman. the oracles which he consulted in all his perils, and in the perils of his country, were the oracles of god.[ ] no one of the fathers of the revolution knew better than he did that religion rests upon the bible as its main pillar, and that as a knowledge and belief of the bible are essential to true religion, so they are to private and public morality. i can not doubt, says the venerable president of amherst college, that could the greatest among the great men of his day add a codicil to his invaluable legacy, it would be, "teach your children early to read and love the bible. teach them to read it in your families; teach them in your schools; teach them everywhere, that the first moral lesson indelibly enstamped upon their hearts may be to 'fear god and keep his commandments.' 'the fear of the lord, that is wisdom; and to depart from evil is understanding.'" [ ] john quincy adams, during his long and eventful life, was accustomed to read daily portions of the scriptures in several languages. how few are aware of what the bible has done for mankind, and still less of what it is destined to accomplish. "quench its light, and you blot out the brightest luminary from these lower heavens. you bring back 'chaos and old night' to reign over the earth, and leave man, with all his immortal energies and aspirations, to 'wander in the blackness of darkness forever.' it was by constantly reading it that our puritan fathers imbibed that unconquerable love of civil and religious liberty which sustained them through all the 'perils of the sea and perils of the wilderness.' it was from the bible they drew those free and admired principles of civil government that were so much in advance of the age in which they lived. it was this book by which they 'resolved to go till they could find some better rule.'" the bible has built all our churches, and colleges, and school-houses; it has built our hospitals and retreats for the insane, the deaf, and the blind; it has built the house of refuge, the sailors' home, and the home for the friendless. to it we are indebted for our homes, for our property, and for all the safeguards of our domestic relations and happiness. it is under its broad shield that we lie down in safety, without bolts or bars to protect us. it has given us our free constitutions of civil government, and with them all the statutes and ordinances of a great and independent people, whose territory extends from the atlantic to the pacific. it is the industry, sobriety, and enterprise, which nothing but the bible could ever inspire and sustain, that have dug our canals, and built our thousand factories, and "clothed the hills with flocks, and covered over the valleys with corn;" that have laid down our railways and established telegraph lines, bringing the east into the neighborhood of the west, and enabling the north to hold converse with the south. the bible has directly and indirectly done all this for us, and infinitely more. let not, then, the book which has given to us sweet homes, and happy families, and systems of public instruction, and has thus constituted us a great and prosperous people--the book which diminishes our sorrows and multiplies our joys, and gives to those who obey its precepts a "hope big with immortality"--let not this book be excluded from the common schools of our country. in the name of patriotism, of philanthropy, and of our common christianity, let me, in behalf of the millions of youth in our country who will otherwise remain ignorant of it, ask that, whatever else be excluded from our schools, there be retained in them this book of books, the bible. chapter viii. the importance of popular education. education, as the means of improving the mural and intellectual faculties, is, under all circumstances, a subject of the most imposing consideration. to rescue man from that state of degradation to which he is doomed unless redeemed by education; to unfold his physical, intellectual, and moral powers, and to fit him for those high destinies which his creator has prepared for him, can not fail to excite the most ardent sensibility of the philosopher and philanthropist. a comparison of the savage that roams through the forest with the enlightened inhabitant of a civilized country would be a brief but impressive representation of the momentous importance of education.--_report of school commissioners, new york_, . he who has carefully perused the preceding chapters of this work is already aware that we regard the subject of popular education as one of paramount importance. the object of devoting a chapter to the special consideration of this subject at this time is, if possible, to remove from the mind any remaining doubts in relation to it. the reader will bear in mind that we regard education as having reference to the _whole man_--the body, the mind, and the heart; and that its object, and, when rightly directed, its effect, is to make him a complete creature after his kind. to his frame it should give vigor, activity, and beauty; to his intellect, power and thoughtfulness; and to his heart, virtue and felicity. we shall be the better prepared to appreciate the importance and necessity of a judicious system of training and instruction if we consider that, in its absence, every individual will be educated by circumstances. let it be borne in mind, then, that all the children in every community will be educated somewhere and somehow; and that it devolves upon citizens and parents to determine whether the children of the present generation shall receive their training in the _school-house_ or in the _streets_; and if in the former, whether in good or poor schools. in the discharge of my official duties in this state, i had occasion to visit two counties in in which there were no organized common schools.[ ] they were not, however, without places of instruction, for in the shire town of each of those counties there were a billiard-room, bar-rooms, and bowling-alleys. i was forcibly impressed with the remark of an indian chief residing in one of those counties. as he was passing along the streets one day, he discovered a second bowling-alley in process of erection. he paused, and, surveying it attentively, remarked to those at work upon it as follows: "you have here another long building going up rapidly; and," he added, "_is this the place where our children are to be educated?_" such keen and well-merited rebuke rarely falls from human lips. those two bowling-alleys, with their bars--indispensable appendages--were thronged from six o'clock in the morning until past midnight, six days in the week. they were, moreover, the very places where many of the youth of that village were receiving their education. and who were their teachers? idlers, tipplers, gamblers, profane persons, sabbath-breakers. mark well this truth: _as is the teacher, so will be the school_. those pupils will graduate, it may be, at our poor-houses, at our county jails, or at the state penitentiary. these debasing and corrupting appendages of civilization spent not all their influence upon the white man; and this is what gave pungency to the withering satire of the chief. they were at once working the ruin of the red man and of his pale neighbor. [ ] common schools have since been organized in both of those counties. the rudest nations or individuals can not be said to be wholly without education. even the wildest savage is taught by his superiors not only the best mode of procuring food and shelter known to his race, but also the most adroit manner of defending himself and destroying his enemy. but we use the term in a higher, broader, and more capacious sense, as having reference to the whole man, and the whole duration of his being. a volume might be filled in stating and illustrating the advantages of education. we have only space to state and elucidate a few propositions. we remark, then, first, that education dissipates the evils of ignorance. ignorance is one principal cause of the want of virtue, and of the immoralities which abound in the world. were we to take a survey of the moral state of the world as delineated in the history of nations, or as depicted by modern voyagers and travelers, we should find abundant illustration of the truth of this remark. we should find, in almost every instance, that ignorance of the character of the true god, and false conceptions of the nature of the worship and service he requires, have led, not only to the most obscene practices and immoral abominations, but to the perpetration of the most horrid cruelties.--dr. dick. the evils of ignorance are not few in number nor small in magnitude. the whole history of the world justifies the statement that ignorant and uncultivated mind is prone to sensuality and cruelty. in what countries, let me ask, are the people most given to the lowest forms of animal gratification, and most regardless of the lives and happiness of others? is it not in pagan lands, over which moral and intellectual darkness broods, and where men are vile without shame, and cruel without remorse? and if from pagan we pass to christian countries, we shall find that those in which education is least prevalent are the very ones in which there is the most immorality, and the greatest indifference to the sufferings of animated and sentient beings. spain--in which, until recently, there was but one newspaper printed, and in which only about one in thirty five of the people are instructed in schools--has a population about equal to that of england and wales. popular education in the latter countries, although much behind several of the other european states, is still greatly in advance of what it is in spain, and there is an equally marked difference in the state of morals in the people of these countries. in england and wales the whole number of convictions for murder in the year eighteen hundred and twenty-six was _thirteen_, and the number convicted for wounding, etc., with intent to kill, was _fourteen_; while in spain, the number convicted during the same year was, for murder, _twelve hundred and thirty-three_! and for maiming with intent to kill, _seventeen hundred and seventy-three_! or a more than one hundred fold greater number than in the former countries. facts like these speak volumes in favor of the elevating influences of popular education, while they show most conclusively the low and degraded condition to which people will sink in countries in which education is neglected. spain affords an apt illustration of the truth of the statement just made, that ignorant and uncultivated people are prone to sensuality and cruelty. scenes of cruelty and blood constitute the favorite amusement of the spaniards, their greatest delight being in bull-fights. an eye-witness describes the manner in which they conduct themselves during these appalling scenes in the following language. "the intense interest which they feel in this game is visible throughout, and often loudly expressed. an astounding shout always accompanies a critical moment. whether it be the _bull_ or _man_ who is in danger, their joy is excessive; but their greatest sympathy is given to the feats of the bull! if the picador receives the bull gallantly and forces him to retreat, or if the matadore courageously faces and wounds the bull, they applaud these acts of science and valor; but if the bull overthrow the horse and his rider, or if the matadore miss his aim and the bull seems ready to gore him, their delight knows no bounds. and it is certainly a fine spectacle to see thousands of spectators rise simultaneously, as they always do when the interest is intense. the greatest and most crowded theater in europe presents nothing half so imposing as this. but how barbarous, how brutal is the whole exhibition! could an english audience witness the scenes that are repeated every week in madrid, a universal burst of '_shame_!' would follow the spectacle of a horse gored and bleeding, and actually treading upon his own entrails while he gallops round the arena. even the appearance of the goaded bull could not be borne, panting, covered with wounds and blood, lacerated by darts, and yet brave and resolute to the end. "the spectacle continued two hours and a half, and during that time there were seven bulls killed and six horses. when the last bull was dispatched, the people immediately rushed into the arena, and the carcass was dragged out amid the most deafening shouts."--_spain in _, vol. i., p. . the same writer, after describing another fight, in which one bull had killed three horses and one man, and remained master of the arena, remarks, that "this was a time to observe the character of the people. when the unfortunate picador was killed, in place of a general exclamation of horror and loud expressions of pity, the universal cry was 'que es bravo ese toro! ('ah, the admirable bull!') the whole scene produced the most unbounded delight; the greater the horror, the greater was the shouting, and the more vehement the expressions of satisfaction. i did not perceive a single female avert her head or betray the slightest symptom of wounded feeling."--vol. i., p. . a correct system of public instruction develops a character widely different from that here brought to light. instead of a love for vicious excitement, it cultivates a taste for simple and innocent pleasures, and gives to its subjects a command over their passions, and a disposition habitually to control them. it acquaints them with their duty, and enables them to find their highest pleasure in its discharge. they order their pursuits and choose their employments with reference to their own advantage, it is true; but still, a higher, and the controlling motive with them is, the promotion of the best good of the community in which they live. in short, their supreme desire is to co-operate with the beneficent creator in advancing the permanent interests of the whole human family; in themselves obeying, and leading others to obey, all the laws which god has ordained for the government and well-being of his creatures. education, we said, dissipates the evils of ignorance. but in this country we hardly know what popular ignorance is. the most illiterate among us have derived many and inestimable advantages from our systems of public instruction. occasionally persons are found among us who can neither read nor write. but even such persons insensibly imbibe ideas and moral influences from the more cultivated society about them which, in countries less favored, are denied to multitudes. individuals who have had no early advantages for learning, who have never even entered a school-house, but have grown up amid a generally intelligent population, trained by the institutions established by our fathers, have in many instances acquired a mental character and influence which, but for these fortuitous circumstances, they could not have attained. the very excellence of our systems of education in many states of the union, and the vital and pervading influence of the schools upon the public mind, reaching as they do, and improving even those that remain ignorant of letters, do not allow us to see the full extent of our obligation to them. this remark applies to all civilized countries where any systems of general education are adopted, but perhaps not to so great an extent in any other country as in our own. the evils which flow from ignorance are deplorable enough in the case of individuals, although, as we have seen, the disastrous consequences are limited in the case of those who live surrounded by an intelligent community. but the general ignorance of large numbers and entire classes of men, unreached by the elevating influence of the educated, acting under the unchastened stimulus of the passions, and excited by the various causes of discontent which are constantly occurring in the progress of human affairs, is not unfrequently productive of scenes, the contemplation of which makes humanity shudder. the following extract from a foreign journal affords a pertinent illustration of the evils which flow from popular ignorance. it relates to the outrages committed by the peasantry in a part of hungary in consequence of the ravages of the cholera in that region. "the suspicion that the cholera was caused by poisoning the wells was universal among the peasantry of the counties of zips and zemplin, and every one was fully convinced of its truth. the first commotion arose in klucknow, where, it is said, some peasants died in consequence of taking the preservatives; whether by an immoderate use of medicine, or whether they thought they were to take chloride of lime internally, is not known. this story, with a sudden and violent breaking out of the cholera at klucknow, led the peasants to a notion of the poisoning of the wells, which spread like lightning. in the sequel, in the attack of the estate of count czaki, a servant of the chief bailiff was on the point of being murdered, when, to save his life, he offered to disclose something important. he said that he received from his master two pounds of poisonous powder, with orders to throw it into the wells, and, with an ax over his head, took oath publicly, in the church, to the truth of his statement. these statements, and the fact that the peasants, when they forcibly entered the houses of the land-owners, every where found chloride of lime, which they took for the poisonous powder, confirmed their suspicions, and drove the people to madness. in this state of excitement, they committed the most appalling excesses. thus, for instance, when a detachment of thirty soldiers, headed by an ensign, attempted to restore order in klucknow, the peasants, who were ten times their number, fell upon them; the soldiers were released, but the ensign was bound, tortured with scissors and knives, then beheaded, and his head fixed on a pike as a trophy. a civil officer in company with the military was drowned, his carriage broken, and, chloride of lime being found in the carriage, one of the inmates was compelled to eat it till he vomited blood, which again confirmed the notion of poison. on the attack of the house of the lord at klucknow, the countess saved her life by piteous entreaties: but the chief bailiff, in whose house chloride of lime was unhappily found, was killed, together with his son, a little daughter, a clerk, a maid, and two students who boarded with him. so the bands went from village to village; wherever a nobleman or a physician was found, death was his lot; and in a short time it was known that the high constable of the county of zemplin, and several counts, nobles, and parish priests, had been murdered. a clergyman was hanged because he refused to take an oath that he had thrown poison into a well; the eyes of a countess were put out, and innocent children cut to pieces. count czaki, having first ascertained that his family was safe, fled from his estate at the risk of his life; but he was stopped at kirtchtrauf, pelted with stones, and wounded all over, torn from his horse, and only saved by a worthy merchant who fell on him, crying, 'now i have got the rascal.' he drew the count into a neighboring convent, where his wounds were dressed, and a refuge afforded him. his secretary was struck from his horse with an ax, but saved in a similar manner, and in the evening conveyed with his master to leutschau."[ ] [ ] quoted from an address delivered in boston by edward everett. a little knowledge on the part of the peasantry would have prevented these horrible scenes. had they learned even the elements of physiology and chemistry, they would have known that cleanliness is essential to health at all times, and that during the prevalence of a malignant epidemic it is doubly needful. they would have known, also, that chloride of lime is not a medicine to be taken internally, but that it is very useful for disinfecting offensive apartments, and that its tendency, when properly used, would be to counteract the cause of the disease which they so much dreaded. among all nations, and in all ages of the world, ignorance has not only debarred mankind from many exquisite and sublime enjoyments, but has created innumerable unfounded alarms, which greatly increase the sum of human misery. in the early ages of the world, a total eclipse of the sun or of the moon was regarded with the utmost consternation, as if some unusual catastrophe had been about to befall the universe. believing that the moon in an eclipse was sickening or dying, through the influence of enchanters, the trembling spectators had recourse to the ringing of bells, the sounding of trumpets, the beating of brazen vessels, and to loud and horrid exclamations, in order to break the enchantment, and to drown the muttering of witches, that the moon might not hear them. nor are such foolish opinions and customs yet banished from the world. comets, too, with their blazing tails, were long regarded, and still are by many, as harbingers of divine vengeance, presaging famines and inundations, or the downfall of princes and the destruction of empires. the northern lights have been frequently gazed at with similar apprehensions, whole provinces having been thrown into consternation by the fantastic coruscations of these lambent meteors. some pretend to see in these harmless lights armies mixing in fierce encounter and fields streaming with blood, while others behold states overthrown, earthquakes, inundations, pestilences, and the most dreadful calamities. because some one or other of these calamities formerly happened soon after the appearance of a comet or the blaze of an aurora, therefore they are considered either as the causes or the prognostics of such events. popular ignorance has given rise to the practice of _judicial astrology_; an art which, with all its foolish notions so fatal to the peace of mankind, has been practiced in every period of time. under a belief that the characters and the fates of men are dependent on the various aspects of the stars and conjunctions of the planets, the most unfounded apprehensions, as well as the most delusive hopes, have been excited by the professors of this fallacious science. such impositions on the credulity of mankind are founded on the grossest absurdity and the most palpable ignorance of the nature of things; still, in the midst of the light of science which the present century has shed upon the world, the astrologer meets with a rich support[ ] even in the metropolis of great britain; and soothsayers, if not astrologers, get great gain by their craft in various portions of the united states. the extensive annual sale of hundreds of thousands of copies of almanacs that abound in astrological predictions in the united stales and in great britain, and the extent to which they are consulted, affords a striking proof of the belief which is still attached to the doctrines of this fallacious science, and of the ignorance and credulity from which such a belief proceeds. [ ] see appendix to dick's improvement of society, p. . shooting stars, fiery meteors, lunar rainbows, and other atmospherical phenomena, have likewise been considered by some as ominous of impending calamities, but they are regarded in a very different light by scientific observers. the most sublime phenomenon of shooting stars of which the world has furnished any record was witnessed throughout the united states on the morning of the th of november, . this astonishing exhibition covered no inconsiderable portion of the earth's surface. the first appearance was every where that of fire-works of the most imposing grandeur, covering the entire vault of heaven with myriads of fire-balls resembling sky-rockets; but the most brilliant sky-rockets and fire-works of art bear less relation to the splendors of this celestial exhibition than the twinkling of the most tiny star to the broad glare of the noonday sun. their coruscations were bright, gleaming, and incessant, and they fell thick as the flakes in the early snows of december. the whole heavens seemed in motion, and suggested to some the awful grandeur of the image employed in the apocalypse upon the opening of the sixth seal, when "the stars of heaven fell unto the earth, even as a fig-tree casteth her untimely figs when she is shaken of a mighty wind." while these scenes of grandeur were viewed with unspeakable delight by enlightened scientific observers, the ignorant and superstitious were overpowered with horror and dismay. the description which a gentleman of south carolina gave of the effect produced by this phenomenon upon his ignorant blacks will apply well to many hardly better informed white persons. "i was suddenly awakened," said he, "by the most distressing cries that ever fell upon my ears. shrieks of horror and cries of mercy i could hear from most of the negroes of three plantations, amounting in all to about six or eight hundred. while earnestly listening for the cause, i heard a faint voice near the door calling my name: i arose, and, taking my sword, stood at the door. at this moment i heard the same voice still beseeching me to rise and saying, 'o! my god, the world is on fire!' i then opened the door, and it is difficult to say which excited me most, the awfulness of the scene or the distressed cries of the negroes. upward of one hundred lay prostrate on the ground, some speechless, and some with the bitterest cries, but most with their hands raised, imploring god to save the world and them. the scene was truly awful, for never did rain fall much thicker than the meteors fell toward the earth; east, west, north, and south, it was the same." those harmless meteors, the _ignes fatui_, which hover above moist and fenny places in the night-time, emitting a glimmering light, have been regarded by the ignorant as malicious spirits endeavoring to deceive the bewildered traveler and lead him to destruction. the plaintive note of the mourning dove, the ticking noise of the little insect called the death-watch, the howling of a dog in the night-time, the meeting of a bitch with whelps, or a snake lying in the road, the breaking of a looking-glass, and even the falling of salt from the table, and the curling of a fiber of wick in a burning candle, together with many other equally harmless incidents, have been regarded with apprehensions of terror, being considered as unfailing signs of impending disasters or of approaching death. dr. dick remarks, that in the highlands of scotland--and it should be borne in mind that the scotch are, as a nation, better instructed, and more moral and religious in their habits, than any other people in europe--the motions and appearances of the clouds were, not long ago, considered ominous of disastrous events. on the evening before new year's day, if a black cloud appeared in any part of the horizon, it was thought to prognosticate a plague, a famine, or the death of some great man in that part of the country over which it seemed to hang; and in order to ascertain the place threatened by the omen, the motions of the clouds were often watched through the whole night. in the same country, the inhabitants regard certain days as _unlucky_, or ominous of bad fortune. the day of the week on which the third of may falls is deemed unlucky throughout the year. with a very slight change, a part of this description would apply well to our own country, even up to the present time. how many thousands of days are lost annually in the united states in consequence of superstitious fears in relation to setting out upon a journey, entering upon a new pursuit of any kind, or even beginning to plant or plow on friday, the unlucky day of the americans. how many persons have had misfortunes attend them all their lives because they were born, or christened, or married on friday! how many houses have been burned because they were begun, raised, or moved into on friday! how many steamboats and vessels have been burned or wrecked because they were launched or sailed on friday! and yet, strange as it may seem, this is the very day on which columbus set sail on a voyage that resulted in the discovery of the new world. many people, and in some instances whole communities, always commence plowing, sowing, and reaping on tuesday, though by this rule the most favorable weather for these purposes is frequently lost. others, again, will not, on any account, perform certain kinds of labor on friday. the age of the moon is also much attended to in many parts of the world. among the vulgar highlanders, an opinion prevails, that if a house takes fire while the moon is in the decrease, the family will from that time decline in its circumstances and sink into poverty. in this country, equally unfounded and ridiculous opinions are entertained. passing by the more commonly received opinions that if swine are killed in the old of the moon, the pork will shrink in the pot; that seed sown at this time will be less likely to do well, etc., etc., i will mention one or two instances of opinions which, although equally well founded, are less commonly received, and which may therefore more forcibly impress the popular mind. a few years ago, i spent some months in a neighboring state, in a community where the belief was commonly entertained that shingles should not be laid nor stakes driven in the old of the moon, because the former would be more likely to warp, and the latter to be thrown by the frost. the same and kindred opinions are extensively held in various portions of the united states. these are a few, and but a very few, of the superstitious notions and vain fears by which the great majority of the human race, in every age and country, have been enslaved, as he who will take the pains to peruse dr. dick's admirable treatise on the improvement of society by the diffusion of knowledge can not fail to be convinced. that such absurd notions should ever have prevailed is a most grating and humiliating thought, when we consider the noble faculties with which man is endowed. that they still prevail to a great extent, even in our own country, is a striking proof that as yet we are, as a people, but just emerging from the gloom of intellectual darkness. the prevalence of such opinions is to be regretted, not only on account of the groundless alarms they create, but chiefly on account of the false ideas they inspire with regard to the nature of the supreme ruler of the universe, and of his arrangements in the government of the world. he whose mind is enlightened with true science perceives throughout all nature the most striking evidences of benevolent design, and rejoices in the benignity of the great parent of the universe, discovering nothing in the arrangements of the creator, in any department of his works, which has a direct tendency to produce pain to any intelligent or sensitive being. the superstitious man, on the contrary, contemplates the sky, the air, the waters, and the earth as filled with malicious beings, ever ready to haunt him with terror or to plot his destruction. the former contemplates the deity directing the movements of the material world by fixed and invariable laws, which none but himself can counteract or suspend. the latter views these movements as continually liable to be controlled by capricious and malignant beings to gratify the most trivial passions. how very different, of course, must be their conceptions and feelings respecting the attributes and government of the supreme being! while the one views him as the infinitely wise and benevolent father, whose paternal care and goodness inspire confidence and affection, the other must regard him, in a certain degree, as a capricious being, and offer up his adorations under the influence of fear. these and like notions have also an evident tendency to habituate the mind to false principles and processes of reasoning which unfit it for legitimate conclusions in its researches after truth. they manifestly chain down the understanding, and unfit it for the appreciation of those noble and enlarged views which revelation and modern science exhibit of the order, extent, and economy of the universe. it is lamentable to reflect that so many thousands of beings endowed with the faculty of reason, who can not by any means be persuaded of the motion of the earth, and the distances and magnitudes of the heavenly bodies, should swallow, without the least hesitation, opinions ten thousand times more improbable. notwithstanding the mathematical certainty of the truth of the copernican system of astronomy, i have never yet become extensively acquainted with any community in which i have not found many persons professing a respectable degree of intelligence, and even official members of orthodox churches, who entirely discredit its sublime teachings; and yet some of these very persons find little difficulty in believing that an old woman can transform herself into a hare, and wing her way through the air on a broomstick. what contracted notions such persons must have of the almightiness of the deity, and of the infinite depth of meaning of the following and like passages of scripture: the heavens declare the glory of god, and the firmament showeth his handy work. day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night showeth knowledge.--_ps._ xix., - . it has been already remarked, that the whole history of the world justifies the statement that ignorant and uncultivated mind is prone to sensuality and cruelty. spain and hungary were referred to in illustration. we are now prepared to remark, what is worse still, that where such superstitious notions as we have been considering are held, even by persons who are somewhat educated, they almost invariably lead to the perpetration of deeds of cruelty and injustice. many of the barbarities committed in pagan countries, both in their religious worship and their civil polity, and most of the cruelties inflicted on the victims of the romish inquisition, have flowed from this source.[ ] nor are the annals of great britain and the united states deficient in examples of this kind. about the commencement of the last century, the belief in witchcraft, which was almost universal throughout christendom, was held in both of these countries. the laws of england, which admitted its existence and punished it with death, were adopted by the puritans of new england, and in less than twenty years from the founding of the colony, one individual was tried and executed for the supposed crime. half a century later the delusion broke out in salem. a minister, whose daughter and niece were subject to convulsions accompanied by extraordinary symptoms, supposing they were bewitched, cast his suspicions on an indian woman who lived in the house, and who was whipped until she confessed herself a witch; and the truth of the confession, although obtained in this way, was not doubted. during the same year more than fifty persons were terrified into the confession of witchcraft, twenty of whom were put to death. neither age, sex, nor station afforded any safeguard against a charge for this supposed crime. women and children not only were its victims, but magistrates were condemned, and a clergyman of the highest respectability was among the executed. so late as a woman was burned for witchcraft in scotland, which was among the last executions in that country. [ ] in the duchy of lorraine, nine hundred females were delivered over to the flames for being _witches_, by one inquisitor alone. under this accusation, it is reckoned that upward of _thirty thousand women_ have perished by the hands of the inquisition.--quoted by dr. dick from "_inquisition unmasked_." it appears that these superstitious notions, so far from being innocent and harmless speculations, lead to the most deplorable results; they ought, therefore, to be undermined and thoroughly eradicated by all persons who wish to promote the happiness and well-being of general society. this duty is especially incumbent upon parents and teachers, and can be effected only by rendering correct early education universal. ignorance of the laws and economy of nature is the one great source of these absurd opinions. they have not only no foundation in nature or experience, but are directly opposed to both. in proportion, then, as we advance in our researches into nature's economy and laws, shall we perceive their futility and absurdity. as in other cases, take away the cause, and the effect will be removed. _education will dissipate all these evils._ it is true that an acquaintance with a number of dead languages, with roman and grecian antiquities, with the subtleties of metaphysics, with pagan mythology, and with politics and poetry, may coexist with these superstitions, as was true in the case of the late dr. samuel johnson, who believed in ghosts and in the _second sight_. however important in other respects these departments of an extensive and varied education may be, they do not form an effectual barrier against the admission of superstitious opinions. in order to do this, the mind must be directed to the study of the material universe, to contemplate the various appearances it presents, and to mark well the uniform results of those invariable laws by which it is governed. in particular, the attention should be directed to those discoveries which have been made by philosophers in the different departments of nature and art during the last two centuries. for this purpose, the study of natural history, as recording the various facts respecting the atmosphere, the waters, the earth, and animated beings, combined with the study of natural philosophy and astronomy, as explaining the causes of the phenomena of nature, will have a happy tendency to eradicate from the mind superstitious and false notions, and at the same time will present to view objects of delightful contemplation. let a person be once thoroughly convinced that nature is uniform in her operations, and governed by regular laws impressed by an all-wise and benevolent being, and he will soon be inspired with confidence, and will not easily be alarmed at any occasional phenomena which at first sight might appear as exceptions to the general rule. let persons be taught, for example, that eclipses are occasioned merely by the shadow of one opaque body falling upon another; that they are the necessary result of the inclination of the moon's orbit to that of the earth; that, if these orbits were in the same plane, there would be an eclipse of the sun and of the moon every month, the former occurring at the change, and the latter at the full of the moon; that the times when they do actually take place depend on the new or full moon happening at or near the points of intersection of the orbits of the earth and moon, and that other planets which have moons experience eclipses of a similar nature. let them also be taught that the _comets_ are regular bodies belonging to our system, which finish their revolutions and appear and disappear in stated periods of time; that the northern lights, though seldom seen in southern climes, are frequent in the regions of the north, and supply the inhabitants with light in the absence of the sun, and have probably a relation to the magnetic and electric fluids; that the _ignes fatui_ are harmless lights, formed by the ignition of a certain species of gas produced in the soils above which they hover; and that the notes of the death-watch, so far from being presages of death, are ascertained to be the notes of _love_ and presages of hymeneal intercourse among these little insects. let rational information of this kind be imparted to people generally, and they will learn to contemplate nature with tranquillity and composure. a more beneficial effect than this will at the same time be produced, for those very objects which were formerly beheld with alarm will now be converted into sources of enjoyment, and be contemplated with emotions of delight. to remove the groundless apprehensions which arise from the fear of invisible and incorporeal beings, let persons be instructed in the various optical illusions to which we are subject, arising from the intervention of fogs, and the indistinctness of vision in the night-time, which makes us frequently mistake a bush that is near us for a large tree at a distance, and let them be taught that under the influence of these illusions a timid imagination will transform the indistinct image of a cow or a horse into a terrific phantom of a monstrous size. let them also be taught, by a selection of well-authenticated facts, the powerful influence of the imagination in creating ideal forms, especially when under the dominion of fear; the effects produced by the workings of conscience when harassed by guilt; let them be taught the effects produced by lively dreams, by strong doses of opium, by drunkenness, hysteric passions, madness, and other disorders that affect the mind. let the experiments of optics, and the striking phenomena produced by electricity, galvanism, magnetism, and the different gases, be exhibited to their view, together with details of the results which have been produced by various mechanical contrivances. in fine, let their attention be directed to the foolish, whimsical, and extravagant notions attributed to apparitions, and to their inconsistency with the wise and benevolent arrangements of the governor of the universe. there is no rational foundation for entertaining any doubts but that, could such instructions as i have suggested be universally given, the effect would be the banishment of superstitions of the nature contemplated from among mankind; _for they have uniformly produced this effect on every mind which has been thus enlightened_. where is the man to be found whose mind is enlightened by the doctrines and discoveries of modern science, and who yet remains the slave of superstitious notions and vain fears? of all the philosophers of america and europe, is there one who is alarmed at an eclipse, at a comet, at an _ignis fatuus_, or at the notes of a death-watch? or who postpones his experiments on account of what is called an unlucky day? who ever heard of a specter appearing to such a person, dragging him from bed at the dead hour of midnight, to wander through the forest, trembling with fear? such beings appear only to the ignorant and illiterate, at least to those who are unacquainted with natural science, and we never hear of their appearing to any who did not previously believe in their existence. but should philosophers be freed from such terrific visions, if substantial knowledge has not the power of banishing them from the mind? why should supernatural beings feel so shy in conversing with men of science? these would, indeed, be the fittest persons to whom they might impart their secrets, and communicate information respecting the invisible world; but it never falls to their lot to be favored with such visits. it may therefore be concluded that the diffusion of useful knowledge among mankind would infallibly dissipate those groundless fears which have banished much of happiness from the human family, and particularly among the lower orders of society.[ ] [ ] dr. dick, to whom i have frequently referred, and whose writings i have freely consulted, expresses in a note a sentiment in which i fully concur. "it would be unfair," says he, "to infer, from any expression here used, that the author denies the possibility of supernatural visions and appearances. we are assured from the records of sacred history that beings of an order superior to the human race have 'at sundry times and in divers manners' made their appearance to men. but there is the most marked difference between vulgar apparitions and the celestial messengers to which the records of revelation refer. they appeared not to old women and clowns, but to patriarchs, prophets, and apostles. they appeared not to frighten the timid and to create unnecessary alarm, but to declare 'tidings of great joy.' they appeared not to reveal such paltry secrets as the place where a pot of gold or silver is concealed, or where a lost ring may be found, but to communicate intelligence worthy of a god to reveal, and of the utmost importance for man to receive. in these and many other respects, there is the most striking contrast between popular ghosts and the supernatural communications and appearances recorded in scripture." i might, perhaps, safely dismiss this subject, and proceed to the consideration of other topics; but, before doing so, it may be well to state that many of the views here presented, and all that come within the range of the subjects discussed by him, are fully sustained by dr. lardner, whose popular lectures on science and art have been so well received both in europe and america. his publishers justly remark, that "probably no public lecturer ever continued, for the same length of time, to collect around him so numerous audiences." the author himself states, in the preface to his lectures,[ ] that from november, , when he commenced his public lectures in the lecture-room of clinton hall, in new york, to the close of the year , when he concluded his public labors in this country, he "visited every considerable city and town of the union, from boston to new orleans, and from new york to st. louis. most of the principal cities were twice visited, and several courses were given in boston, new york, and philadelphia. nor did the appetite for this species of intellectual entertainment appear to flag by repetition." [ ] in two large volumes, published by greeley and mcelrath, new york. i can not forbear making a few quotations from the preface to the work under consideration, which are creditable to the comparative intelligence of the american people, and show the avidity with which they seek instruction and useful knowledge. dr. lardner observes, that "it was usual on each evening to deliver from two to four of the essays which compose the contents of the present volumes, and the duration of the entertainment was from two to three hours. on every occasion the most profound interest was evinced on the part of the audience, and the most unremitting and silent attention was given. these assemblies consisted of persons of both sexes, of every age, from the elder classes of pupils in the schools to their grandfathers and grandmothers. frequently the audiences amounted to twelve hundred, and sometimes, as at the philadelphia museum, they exceeded two thousand. nor was the manifestation of this interest confined, as might be imagined, to the northern atlantic cities, where education is known to be attended to, and where, as in new england, the diffusion of useful knowledge is regarded as a paramount duty of the state. the same crowded assemblies were collected, for a long succession of nights, in the largest theaters of each of the southern and western cities; in the charleston theater; the mobile theater; the st. charles theater, new orleans; the vicksburg and jackson theaters, mississippi; the st. louis theater, missouri; and in the theaters of cincinnati, pittsburg, and other western and central cities. "it can not be denied that such facts are symptomatic of a very remarkable condition of the public mind, more especially among a people who are admitted to be, more than any other nation, engrossed by money-getting and by the more material pursuits of life. the less pretension to eloquence and the attractive graces of oratory the lecturer can offer, the more surprising is the result, and the more creditable to the intelligence of the american people. it is certain that a similar intellectual entertainment, clogged, as it necessarily was, with a pecuniary condition of admission, would fail to attract an audience even in the most polished and enlightened cities of europe." while these statements are highly creditable to the american people, the lectures themselves contain paragraphs which show that the popular mind even in our own country is not sufficiently enlightened to eradicate the superstitions just considered. the moon and the weather.--dr. lardner, in a lecture on the moon, in answer to the question, does the moon influence the weather? says,[ ] it is asserted, first, that at the epochs of new and full moon, and at the quarters, there is generally a change of weather; and, secondly, that the phases of the moon, or, in other words, the relative position of the moon and sun in regard to the earth, is the cause of these changes. now these and kindred opinions are very extensively held in this country. but the doctor refers to meteorological tables, constructed in various countries after the most extensive and careful observation, and the result is that no correspondence exists between the condition of the weather and the phases of the moon. he hence, after a full examination, comes to the conclusion that "_the condition of the weather as to change, or in any other respect, has, as a matter of fact, no correspondence whatever with the lunar phases_." [ ] see lectures on science and art, vol. i., p. . in another lecture on the moon and the weather, the following decisive opinion is expressed: "from all that has been stated, it follows then, conclusively, that the popular notions concerning the influence of the lunar phases on the weather have no foundation in the theory, and no correspondence with observed facts."[ ] [ ] ibid., p. - . time for felling timber.--in another lecture on lunar influences, dr. lardner observes that "there is an opinion generally entertained that timber should be felled only during the decline of the moon; for if it be cut down during its increase, it will not be of a good or durable quality. this impression prevails in various countries. it is acted upon in england, and is made the ground of legislation in france. _the forest laws of the latter country interdict the cutting of timber during the increase of the moon._ in the extensive forests of germany, the same opinion is entertained and acted upon, with the most undoubting confidence in its truth. sauer, a superintendent of some of these districts, assigns what he believes to be its physical cause. according to him, the increase of the moon causes the sap to ascend in the timber, and, on the other hand, the decrease of the moon causes it to descend. if the timber, therefore, be cut during the decrease of the moon, it will be cut in a dry state, the sap having retired, and the wood, therefore, will be compact, solid, and durable. but if it be cut during the increase of the moon, it will be felled with the sap in it, and will therefore be more spongy, more easily attacked by worms, more difficult to season, and more readily split and warped by changes of temperature. "admitting for a moment the reality of this supposition concerning the motion of the sap, it would follow that the proper time for felling the timber would be _the new moon_, that being the epoch at which the descent of the sap would have been made, and the ascent not yet commenced. but can there be imagined, in the whole range of natural science, a physical relation more extraordinary and unaccountable than this supposed correspondence between the movement of the sap and the phases of the moon? assuredly theory affords not the slightest countenance to such a supposition; but let us inquire as to the fact whether it be really the case that the quality of timber depends upon the state of the moon at the time it is felled. "m. duhamel monceau, a celebrated french agriculturist, has made direct and positive experiments for the purpose of testing this question, and has clearly and conclusively shown that the qualities of timber felled in different parts of the lunar month are the same. m. duhamel felled a great many trees of the same age, growing from the same soil, and exposed to the same aspect, and never found any difference in the quality of the timber, when he compared those which were felled in the decline of the moon with those which were felled during its increase: in general, they have afforded timber of the same quality. he adds, however, that by a circumstance which was doubtless fortuitous, a slight difference was manifested in favor of timber which had been felled between the new and full moon, _contrary to popular opinion_." supposed lunar influences.--it is an aphorism received by all gardeners and agriculturists in europe, remarks the same author, that vegetables, plants, and trees, which are expected to flourish and grow with vigor, should be planted, grafted, and pruned during the increase of the moon. this opinion, however, he thinks is altogether erroneous; for the experiments and observations of several french agriculturists have clearly established the fact that the increase or decrease of the moon has no appreciable influence on the phenomena of vegetation. this erroneous prejudice prevails also on the american continent. a french author states that, in brazil, cultivators plant during the _decline_ of the moon all vegetables whose _roots_ are used as food, and that, on the contrary, they plant during the _increasing_ moon the sugar-cane, maize, rice, beans, etc., and those which bear the food upon their _stocks_ and _branches_. experiments, however, were made and reported by m. de chauvalon, at martinique, on vegetables of both kinds, planted at different times in the lunar month, and no appreciable difference in their qualities was discovered. there are some traces of a principle adopted by the south american agronomes (farmers), according to which they treat the two classes of plants distinguished by the production of fruit on their roots or on their branches differently; but there are none in the european aphorisms. the directions of pliny are still more specific: he prescribes the time of the full moon for sowing beans, and that of the new moon for lentils. "truly," says m. arago, "we have need of a robust faith to admit, without proof, that the moon, at the distance of two hundred and forty thousand miles, shall, in one position, act advantageously upon the vegetation of _beans_, and that in the opposite position, and at the same distance, she shall be propitious to _lentils_." dr. lardner gives numerous and extended illustrations of the supposed influence of the moon on the growth of grain, on wine-making,[ ] on the color of the complexion, on putrefaction, on the size of shell-fish, on the quantity of marrow in the bones of animals, on the number of births, on mental derangement, and other human maladies, etc., etc. [ ] on this subject the prevailing opinions in different countries disagree, as they do also on some of the others. the influence on the phenomena of human maladies imputed to the moon is very ancient. hippocrates had so strong a faith in the influence of celestial objects upon animated beings, that he expressly recommends no physician to be trusted who is ignorant of astronomy. galen, following hippocrates, maintained the same opinion, especially of the influence of the moon. the critical days, or _crises_, were the seventh, fourteenth, and twenty-first of the disease, corresponding to the intervals between the moon's principal phases. while the doctrine of alchemists prevailed, the human body was considered as a microcosm, or an epitome of the universe, the heart representing the sun, and the brain the moon. the planets had each his proper influence: jupiter presided over the lungs, saturn over the spleen, venus over the kidneys, and mercury over the organs of generation. the term _lunacy_, which still designates unsoundness of mind, is a relic of these grotesque notions, and is defined by dr. webster as "a species of insanity or madness, formerly supposed to be influenced by the moon, or periodical in the month." but even this term may now be said, in some degree, to be banished from the nomenclature of medicine; it has, however, taken refuge in that receptacle of all antiquated absurdities of phraseology--the law--lunatic being still the term for the subject who is incapable of managing his own affairs. sanctorius, whose name is celebrated in physics for the invention of the thermometer, held it as a principle that a healthy man gained two pounds' weight at the beginning of every lunar month, which he lost toward its completion. this opinion appears to have been founded on experiments made upon himself, and affords another instance of a fortuitous coincidence hastily generalized. for all the progress that has been made in this country toward the removal from the popular mind of the numerous corrupting and debasing absurdities which have hitherto enslaved it, we are indebted to our enlightened and chastened systems of popular education; and to these, and to these only, may we confidently look for entire freedom from the thraldom. education increases the productiveness of labor. education has a power of ministering to our personal and material wants beyond all other agencies, whether excellence of climate, spontaneity of production, mineral resources, or mines of silver and gold. every wise parent, every wise community, desiring the prosperity of its children even in the most worldly sense, will spare no pains in giving them a generous education.--horace mann. the best educated are always the best paid.--_foreign report._ the desirableness of education is manifest, view it in what light we may, and whether as affecting individuals or communities. we have already seen that education, and that alone, will dissipate the evils of ignorance. we now propose to discuss the equally tenable proposition that education increases the productiveness of labor. that knowledge is power has become a proverb. if it be asked why the labor of a man is more valuable than the same amount of physical effort put forth by a brute, the ready answer is, it is because man combines _intelligence_ with his labor. a single yoke of oxen will do more in one day at plowing than forty men; yet the oxen may be had for fifty cents a day, while each of the men can earn a dollar. physical exertion in this case, combined with ordinary skill, is eighty times more valuable than the same amount of brute force. the strength of the ox is of no account without some one to guide and apply it, while the power of man is guided by intelligence within. in proportion as man's intelligence increases is his labor more valuable. a small compensation is the reward of mere physical power, while skill, combined with a moderate amount of strength, commands high wages. the labor of an ignorant man is scarcely more valuable than the same amount of brute force; but the services of an intelligent, skillful person are a hundred fold more productive. i will pause and illustrate, for i wish to have every person who arises from the perusal of these pages do so with the fullest conviction that mental culture is of the highest importance even in the ordinary departments of human industry. it is, indeed, hardly less important for the man of business, the farmer, or the mechanic, than for statesmen, legislators, and members of the so-called learned professions. an intelligent farmer of my acquaintance having a piece of greensward to break up, and having three work-horses, determined to employ them all. he hence, possessing some mechanical skill, himself constructed a three-horse whipple-tree, by means of which he advantageously combined the strength of his horses. a less intelligent neighbor, pleased with the novel appearance of three horses working abreast, resolved to try the experiment himself. but not possessing the skill requisite to construct such a whipple-tree, he waited till his better-informed and more expert neighbor had got through with his, and then, borrowing it, tried the experiment with his own team. early one morning, and full of expectation, aided by his two sons and a hired man, he harnessed his three horses to the plow. but one of them, for the first time, refused to draw. after several fruitless attempts to make the team work as first harnessed, the relative position of the horses was changed, when, lo! although _this_ horse would draw as formerly, one of the others would not. by and by another change was made, and the third horse, in turn, refused to draw. the farmer could not understand it, nor his sons, nor his hired man. his three horses, for the first time, were each fickle in turn. and, what was most surprising, they would all work in either of two positions, but in the third none of them would draw. the honest farmer thought the age of witchcraft had not yet passed. at the conclusion of the forenoon he gave up the undertaking in disgust, and, carrying the whipple-tree home, told the story of his unsuccessful and vexatious experiment. "and how did you harness the horses to the whipple-tree?" inquired the more intelligent farmer. "why, one at the short end, and two at the long end, where there is the most room for them, to be sure!" was the frank reply. the power at the short end, i need not say, should be twice that at the long end; whereas he had it reversed. one horse drew against two with a double purchase. he then would have to draw twice as much as both of them, or four times as much as one of them. the fickleness of the horses, then, instead of being the result of _witchcraft_, as he was inclined to believe, was chargeable solely to the _ignorance_ of their hardly more intelligent master. a knowledge of the first principles of mechanics, or, in the absence of this, an ordinary degree of active, available common sense, would teach the proper use of such a whipple-tree. for want of this knowledge, the farmer suffered much chagrin, lost the time of four men, and did great injury to his team. after mentioning this circumstance on a certain occasion, a gentleman present gave a parallel case, that occurred under his immediate observation. his neighbor had a yoke of oxen, one of which was large, strong, and beautiful. one day, as the neighbor was passing the residence of the gentleman, the latter remarked to him, "you have one very fine-looking ox." "yes," replied the neighbor, with apparent satisfaction, "and a bonny fellow he is too. he can carry the _long end of the yoke, and grow fat under it_." here, again, the weaker ox had to tax his strength doubly on account of the advantage which the ignorance of his kind master had unintentionally given to his superior yoke-fellow. a farmer, or laborer of any kind, who possesses a knowledge of the merest elements of science, and is accustomed to think and investigate, can not only work more advantageously with his team, but he can do more work himself, and do it easier too, than his neighbor of superior physical strength, though of inferior mental capacity. the correctness of this statement may be satisfactorily proved and amply illustrated in loading timber, in moving buildings, in plowing, and in almost every kind of work done on a farm or among men, either on land or at sea. the ignorant man will spend more time in running after help to do a supposed difficult job, than it will require for a skillful one to do it alone. this is true in carpentry, and in all of the mechanic arts. increase the practical and available education of the laborer, and you enable him to do more work, and better work too, than his less informed associate. the following is a striking illustration. a practical teacher employed some mechanics to build him a barn. the day after the frame was raised, the teacher discovered that it needed to be turned a few inches upon its foundation, to range properly with other buildings. while the mechanics went in several directions to procure what they regarded as necessary help, the teacher, who was familiar with the various combinations of the lever, effected the work alone, and before their return! other equally striking illustrations might be cited. but education increases the productiveness of labor in a wider and more extended sense. by its omnipotent influence, man is enabled to lay the elements under tribute. the water and the wind, by its mysterious power, are made to propel his machinery for various purposes. the utmost skill of the untutored savage enables him to construct a rude canoe which two can carry upon their shoulders by land, which is barely capable of plying upon our rivers and coasting our inland seas, and which can be propelled only by human muscles, but the _educated man_ erects a magnificent vessel, a floating palace, and, spreading his canvas to the breeze, aided by the mariner's compass, can traverse unknown seas in safety. to such perfection has he attained in the science and art of navigation, that he contends successfully with wind and tide, and makes headway against both, even when he depends upon the former for his motive power. yes, education enables man even to tax the gentle breeze to urge a proud ship, heavily laden, up an inclined plane, thousands of miles, against the current of a mighty river. i can not, perhaps, so satisfactorily establish the proposition which i am now endeavoring to elucidate, nor so well maintain the universality of its application, as by referring to the writings of the most indefatigable and successful laborer in the department of popular education of which our country can boast. i refer to the hon. horace mann,[ ] who, a few years ago, in his official capacity, opened a correspondence, and availed himself of all opportunities to hold personal interviews with many of the most practical, sagacious, and intelligent business men in our country, who for many years had had large numbers of persons in their employment. his object was to ascertain the difference in the productive ability, where natural capacities were equal, between the educated and the uneducated; between a man or a woman whose mind has been awakened to thought, and supplied with the rudiments of knowledge by a good common school education, and one whose faculties have never been developed, or aided in emerging from their original darkness and torpor by such a privilege. for this purpose he conferred and corresponded with manufacturers of all kinds--with machinists, engineers, rail-road contractors, officers in the army, etc.; classes which have means of determining the effects of education on individuals equal in their natural abilities that other classes do not possess. [ ] late secretary of the massachusetts board of education. reference is here especially made to his fifth annual report, bearing date january , , from which, with his consent, what follows under this head has been substantially drawn. a farmer hiring a laborer for one season who has received a good common school education, and the ensuing season hiring another who has not enjoyed this advantage, although he may be personally convinced of the relative value or profitableness of their services, yet he will rarely have any exact data or tests to refer to by which he can measure the superiority of the former over the latter. they do not work side by side, so that he can institute a comparison between the amounts of labor they perform. they may cultivate different fields, where the ease of tillage or the fertility of the soils may be different. they may rear crops under the influence of different seasons, so that he can not discriminate between what is referable to the bounty of nature and what to superiority in judgment or skill. similar difficulties exist in estimating the amount and value of female labor in the household. and as to the mechanic also--the carpenter, the mason, the blacksmith, the tool-maker of any kind--there are a thousand circumstances, which we call accidental, that mingle their influence in giving quality and durability to their work, and prevent us from making a precise estimate of the relative value of any two men's handicraft. individual differences, too, in regard to a single article or a single days' work, may be too minute to be noticed or appreciated, while the aggregate of these differences at the end of a few years may make all the difference between a poor man and a rich one. no observing man can have failed to notice the difference between two workmen, one of whom, to use a proverbial expression, always "hits the nail on the head," while the other loses half his strength and destroys half his nails by the awkwardness of his blows; but perhaps few men have thought of the difference in the results of two such men's labor at the end of twenty years. but when hundreds of men or women work side by side in the same factory, at the same machinery, in making the same fabrics, and, by a fixed rule of the establishment, labor the same number of hours each day; and when, also, the products of each operative can be counted in number, weighed by the pound, or measured by the yard or cubic foot, then it is perfectly practicable to determine, with arithmetical exactness, the productions of one individual and class as compared with those of another individual and class. so, where there are different kinds of labor, some simple, others complicated, and of course requiring different degrees of intelligence and skill, it is easy to observe what class of persons rise from a lower to a higher grade of employment. this, too, is not to be forgotten, that in a manufacturing or mechanical establishment, or among a set of hands engaged in filling up a valley or cutting down a hill, where scores of people are working together, the absurd and adventitious distinctions of society do not intrude. the capitalist and his agents are looking for the greatest amount of labor or the largest income in money from their investments, and they do not promote a dunce to a station where he will destroy raw material or slacken industry because of his name, or birth, or family connections. the obscurest and humblest person has a fair field for competition. that he proves himself capable of earning more money for his employers is a testimonial better than a diploma from all the colleges. now many of the most intelligent and valuable men in the community, in compliance with mr. mann's request, examined their books for a series of years, and ascertained both the quality and the amount of work performed by persons in their employment, and the result of the investigation is a most astonishing superiority in productive power on the part of the educated over the uneducated laborer. the hand is found to be another hand when guided by an intelligent mind. processes are performed not only more rapidly, but better, when faculties which have been exercised in early life furnish their assistance. individuals who, without the aid of knowledge, would have been condemned to perpetual inferiority of condition, and subjected to all the evils of want and poverty, rise to competence and independence by the uplifting power of education. in great establishments, and among large bodies of laboring men, where all services are rated according to their pecuniary value; where there are no extrinsic circumstances to bind a man down to a fixed position after he has shown a capacity to rise above it; where, indeed, men pass by each other, ascending or descending in their grades of labor just as easily and certainly as particles of water of different degrees of temperature glide by each other--under such circumstances it is found, as an almost invariable fact, other things being equal, that those who have been blessed with a good common school education rise to a higher and a higher point in the kinds of labor performed, and also in the rate of wages received, while the ignorant sink like dregs, and are always found at the bottom. james k. mills, esq., of boston, who has been connected with a house that has had for the last ten years the principal direction of cotton-mills, machine shops, and calico-printing works, in which are constantly employed about three thousand persons, and whose opinions of the effects of a common school education upon a manufacturing population are the result of personal observation and inquiries, and are confined to the testimony of the overseers and agents who are brought into immediate contact with the operatives, expresses the conviction that the rudiments of a common school education are essential to the attainment of skill and expertness as laborers, or to consideration and respect in the civil and social relations of life; that very few who have not enjoyed the advantages of a common school education ever rise above the lowest class of operatives, and that the labor of this class, when it is employed in manufacturing operations which require even a very moderate degree of manual or mental dexterity, is unproductive; that a large majority of the overseers and others employed in situations which require a high degree of skill in particular branches--which oftentimes require a good general knowledge of business, and _always_ an unexceptionable moral character--have made their way up from the condition of common laborers, with no other advantage over a large proportion of those they have left behind than that derived from a better education. a statement made from the books of one of the manufacturing companies will show the relative number of the two classes, and the earnings of each; and this mill, we are assured, may be taken as a fair index of all the others. the average number of operatives employed for the last three years is twelve hundred. of this number there are forty-five unable to write their names, or about three and three fourths per cent. the average of women's wages, in the departments requiring the most skill, is two dollars and fifty cents per week, exclusive of board. the average wages of the lowest departments is one dollar and twenty-five cents per week. of the forty-five who are unable to write, twenty-nine, or about two thirds, are employed in the lowest department. the difference between the wages earned by the forty-five and the average wages of an equal number of the better-educated class is about twenty-seven per cent. in favor of the latter. the difference between the wages earned by twenty-nine of the lowest class and the same number in the higher is sixty-six per cent. of seventeen persons filling the most responsible stations in the mills, ten have grown up in the establishment from common laborers or apprentices. this statement does not include an importation of sixty-three persons from manchester, in england, in . among these persons there was scarcely one who could read or write; and although a part of them had been accustomed to work in cotton-mills, yet, either from incapacity or idleness, they were unable to earn sufficient to pay for their subsistence, and at the expiration of a few weeks not more than half a dozen remained in the employment of the company. in some of the print-works a large proportion of the operatives are foreigners. those who are employed in the branches which require a considerable degree of skill are as well educated as our people in similar situations. but the common laborers, as a class, are without any education, and their average earnings are about two thirds only of those of _our_ lowest classes, although the prices paid to each are the same for the same amount of work. among the men and boys employed in the machine shops, the want of education is quite rare. mr. mills does not know an instance of a person so employed who is unable to read and write; and many have a good common school education. to this, he thinks, may be attributed the fact that a large proportion of persons who fill the higher and more responsible situations come from this class of workmen. from these statements the reader will be able to form some estimate, in dollars and cents, at least, of the advantages of even a little education to the operative; and _there is not the least doubt_, says the same authority, that the _employer is equally benefited_. he has the security for his property that intelligence, good morals, and a just appreciation of the regulations of his establishment always afford. his machinery and mills, which constitute a large part of his capital, are in the hands of persons who, by their skill, are enabled to use them to their utmost capacity, and to prevent any unnecessary depreciation. each operative in a cotton-mill, according to the estimate of mr. mills, may be supposed to represent from one thousand to twelve hundred dollars of the capital invested in the mill and its machinery. it is only from the most diligent and economical use of this capital that the proprietor can expect a profit. a fraction less than one half of the cost of manufacturing common cotton goods when a mill is in full operation, is made up of charges which are permanent. if the product is reduced in the ratio of the capacity of the two classes of operatives mentioned in this statement, it will be seen that the cost will be increased in a compound ratio. mr. mills expresses the opinion "that the best cotton-mill in new england, with such operatives only as the forty-five mentioned above, who are unable to write their names, would never yield the proprietor a profit; that the machinery would be soon worn out, and he would be left, in a short time, with a population no better than that which is represented by the importation from england. i can not imagine any situation in life," he continues, "where the want of a common school education would be more severely felt, or be attended with worse consequences, than in manufacturing villages; nor, on the other hand, is there any where such advantages can be improved with greater benefit to all parties. there is more excitement and activity in the minds of people living in masses, and if this expends itself in any of the thousand vicious indulgences with which they are sure to be tempted, the road to destruction is traveled over with a speed exactly corresponding to the power employed." h. bartlett, esq., of lowell, who has been engaged ten years in manufacturing, and has had the constant charge of from four hundred to nine hundred persons during that time, has come in contact with a very great variety of character and disposition, and has seen mind applied to production in the mechanic and manufacturing arts possessing different degrees of intelligence, from gross ignorance to a high degree of cultivation, and he has no hesitation in affirming that he finds the best educated to be the most profitable help. _even those females who merely tend machinery give a result somewhat in proportion to the advantages enjoyed in early life for education_, those who have a good common school education giving, as a class, invariably a better production than those brought up in ignorance. in regard to the domestic and social habits of persons in his employ, the same gentleman adds, "i have never considered mere knowledge, valuable as it is to the laborer, as the only advantage derived from a good common school education. i have uniformly found the better educated, as a class, possessing a higher and better state of morals, more orderly and respectful in their deportment, and more ready to comply with the wholesome and necessary regulations of an establishment. and in times of agitation, on account of some change in regulations or wages, i have always looked to the most intelligent, best educated, and the most moral for support, and have seldom been disappointed; for, while they are the last to submit to imposition, they _reason_, and if your requirements are reasonable, they will generally acquiesce, and exert a salutary influence upon their associates. but the ignorant and uneducated i have generally found the most turbulent and troublesome, acting under the influence of excited passion and jealousy. "the former appear to have an interest in sustaining good order, while the latter seem more reckless of consequences. and, to my mind, all this is perfectly natural. the better educated have more and stronger attachments binding them to the place where they are. they are generally neater in their persons, dress, and houses; surrounded with more comforts, with fewer of 'the ills flesh is heir to.' in short, i have found the educated, as a class, more cheerful and contented, devoting a portion of their leisure time to reading and intellectual pursuits, more with their families, and less in scenes of dissipation. the good effect of all this is seen in the more orderly and comfortable appearance of the whole household, but nowhere more strikingly than in the children. a mother who has a good common school education will rarely suffer her children to grow up in ignorance. as i have said, this class of persons are more quiet, more orderly, and, i may add, more regular in their attendance upon public worship, and more punctual in the performance of all their duties." mr. bartlett thinks it would be very difficult, if not impossible, for a young man, who has not an education equal to a good common school education, to rise from grade to grade until he should obtain the berth of an overseer, and that, in making promotions, as a general thing, it would be unnecessary to make inquiry as to the education of the young men from whom you would select. very seldom indeed, he says, would an uneducated young man rise to "_a better place and better pay_. young men who expect to resort to manufacturing establishments for employment, can not prize too highly a good education. _it will give them standing among their associates, and be the means of promotion among their employers._" the final remark of this gentleman, in a lengthy letter, showing the advantages of education in a pecuniary, social, and moral point of view, is, that "_those who possess the greatest share in the stock of worldly goods are deeply interested in this subject, as one of mere insurance_; that the most effectual way of making insurance on their property would be _to contribute from it enough to sustain an efficient system of common school education, thereby educating the whole mass of mind, and constituting it a police more effectual than peace officers and prisons_." by so doing he thinks they would bestow a benefaction upon those who, from the accident of birth or parentage, are subjected to the privations and temptations of poverty, and would do much to remove the prejudice and to strengthen the bands of union between the different and extreme portions of society. he very justly regards it a wise provision of providence which connects so intimately, and, as he thinks, so indissolubly, the greatest good of the many with the highest interest of the few; or, in other words, which unites into one brotherhood all the members of the community, and in the existing partnership connects inseparably the interests of labor and capital.[ ] [ ] the new york free school state convention, held in syracuse the th and th of july inst. ( ), _unanimously_ adopted an address to the people of the state, written by horace greeley, in which the following passage occurs, inculcating the same sentiment: "property is deeply interested in the education of all. there is no farm, no bank, no mill, no shop--unless it be a grog-shop--which is not more valuable and more profitable to its owner if located among a well-educated than if surrounded by an ignorant population. _simply as a matter of interest, we hold it to be the duty of property to itself to provide education for all._" john clark, esq., of lowell, who has had under his superintendence for eight years about fifteen hundred persons of both sexes, gives concurrent testimony. he has found, with very few exceptions, the best educated among his hands to be the most capable, intelligent, energetic, industrious, economical, and moral, and that they produce the best work, and the most of it, with the least injury to the machinery. they are, in short, in all respects the most useful, profitable, and the safest operatives; and as a class, they are more thrifty, and more apt to accumulate property for themselves. "i am very sure," he remarks, "that neither men of property nor society at large have any thing to fear from a more general diffusion of knowledge, nor from the extension and improvement of our system of common schools. on our pay-roll for the last month are borne the names of twelve hundred and twenty-nine female operatives, forty of whom receipted for their pay by 'making their mark.' twenty-six of these have been employed in job work; that is, they are paid according to the quantity of work turned off from their machines. the average pay of these twenty-six falls eighteen and one half per cent. below the general average of those engaged in the same departments. "again: we have in our mills about one hundred and fifty females who have at some time been engaged in _teaching schools_. many of them teach during the summer months, and work in the mills in winter. the average wages of these ex-teachers i find to be seventeen and three fourths per cent. _above the general average of our mills, and about forty per cent. above the twenty-six who can not write their names_. it may be said they are generally employed in the higher departments, where the pay is better. this is true; but this again may be, in most cases, fairly attributed to their better education, which brings us to the same result. if i had included in my calculations the remaining fourteen of the forty, who were mostly sweepers and scrubbers, and who are paid by the day, the contrast would have been still more striking; but, having no well-educated females in this department with whom to compare them, i have omitted them altogether. in arriving at the above results, i have considered the _net wages_ merely, the price of board being in all cases the same. i do not consider these results as either extraordinary or surprising, but as a part only of the legitimate and proper fruits of a better cultivation, and fuller development of the intellectual and moral powers." mr. mann gives the entire letters from which i have so freely drawn, and also introduces into his report extracts from a letter of jonathan crane, esq., who has been for many years a large rail-road contractor, and has had several thousand men in his employment. the testimony of this gentleman is corroborative of that already presented. testimony similar to the preceding might be introduced from the proprietors and superintendents of the principal manufacturing establishments in america not only, but from every part of the civilized world. before concluding this chapter, i shall, for another purpose, refer to statements made by extensive manufacturers in england and switzerland. these are no more than a fair specimen of a mass of facts which mr. mann obtained from the most authentic sources. they seem to prove incontestably that education is not only a moral renovator, and a multiplier of intellectual power, but that it is also the most prolific parent of material riches. it has a right, therefore, not only to be included in the grand inventory of a nation's resources, but to be placed at the very head of that inventory. it is not only the most honest and honorable, but the surest means of amassing property. considering education, then, as a producer of wealth, it follows that the more educated a people are, the more will they abound in all those conveniences, comforts, and satisfactions which money will buy; and, other things being equal, _the increase of competency and the decline of pauperism will be measurable on this scale_. education and agriculture.--the healthful and praiseworthy employment of agriculture requires knowledge for its successful prosecution. in this department of industry we are in perpetual contact with the forces of nature. we are constantly dependent upon them for the pecuniary returns and profits of our investments, and hence the necessity of knowing what those forces are, and under what circumstances they will operate most efficiently, and will most bountifully reward our original outlay of money and time. our country yields a great variety of agricultural productions, and this brings into requisition all that chemical and experimental knowledge which pertains to the rotation of crops and the enrichment of soils. if rotation be disregarded, the repeated demands upon the same soil to produce the same crop will exhaust it of the elements on which that particular crop will best thrive. if the chemical ingredients and affinities of the soil are not understood, an attempt may be made to reenforce it by substances with which it is already surcharged, instead of renovating it with those of which it has been exhausted by previous growths. but for these arrangements and adaptations knowledge is the grand desideratum, and the addition of a new fact to a farmer's mind will often increase the amount of his harvests more than the addition of acres to his estate. why is it that, if we except egypt, all the remaining territory of africa, containing nearly ten millions of square miles, with a soil most of which is incomparably more fertile by nature, produces less for the sustenance of man and beast than england, whose territory is only fifty thousand square miles? in the latter country, knowledge has been a substitute for a genial climate and an exuberant soil; while in the former, it is hardly a figurative expression to say that all the maternal kindness of nature, powerful and benignant as she is, has been repulsed by the ignorance of her children. doubtless industry as well as knowledge is indispensable to productiveness; but knowledge must precede industry, or the latter will work to so little effect as to become discouraged, and to relapse into the slothfulness of savage life. this is illustrated by the condition of the inhabitants of lower california, as described by an intelligent friend of the author, who left this country a year ago. he says this is a "most beautiful country, with the finest climate in the world. but its inhabitants, who are principally spaniards and indians, are in a state of semi-barbarism, and consequently its resources are, to a certain extent, undeveloped. the land, which is generally level and of the richest quality, is divided into ranchos or plantations, the largest of which are twenty miles square, and feed twenty or thirty thousand head of wild cattle, with horses and mules in proportion. but these are all. the arts are in the lowest state imaginable. their houses are mere pens, without pen floors; their plows are pointed logs; their yokes are straight sticks, which they tie to the horns of their oxen; and every implement of industry shows an equal want of ingenuity and enterprise. they are too indolent to raise much grain, though the soil will yield, i am told, eighty bushels of wheat to an acre; consequently, wheat is sold to the immigrants at three dollars per bushel, while the finest beef cattle in the world bring from eight to ten dollars per head. butter, cheese, and even milk, you can not obtain at all, for they are too lazy to tame their cows. a few americans, who own large ranchos, have american plows, and are doing better than the rest. many ranchos have been abandoned, and their owners have gone to the mines. this state of things the energetic anglo-saxon will soon change. the immigration for the next few years will be immense, and the whole community will yield to american customs. the large ranchos will be cut up into farms, and their products will supply the wants of a dense population. property will rapidly change hands, and it will be easy for the shrewd yankee to reap the benefit of the change." but, without further exposition, it may be remarked generally, that the spread of intelligence, through the instrumentality of good books, and the cultivation in our children of the faculties of observing, comparing, and reasoning, through the medium of good schools, would add millions to the agricultural products of nearly every state of the union, without imposing upon the husbandman an additional hour of labor. education and the useful arts.--for the successful prosecution among us of the manufacturing and mechanic arts, if not for their very existence, there must be not only the exactness of science, but also exactness or skill in the application of scientific principles throughout the whole processes, either of constructing machinery, or of transforming raw materials into finished fabrics. this ability to make exact and skillful applications of science to an unlimited variety of materials, and especially to the subtile but most energetic agencies of nature, is one of the latest attainments of the human mind. it is remarkable that astronomy, sculpture, painting, poetry, oratory, and even ethical philosophy, had made great progress thousands of years before the era of the manufacturing and mechanic arts. this era, indeed, has but just commenced; and already the abundance, and, what is of far greater importance, the _universality_ of the personal, domestic, and social comforts it has created, constitute one of the most important epochs in the history of civilization. the cultivation of these arts is conferring a thousand daily accommodations and pleasures upon the laborer in his cottage, which, only two or three centuries ago, were luxuries in the palace of the monarch. through circumstances incident to the introduction of all economical improvements, there has hitherto been great inequality in the distribution of their advantages; but their general tendency is greatly to ameliorate the condition of the mass of mankind. it has been estimated that the products of machinery in great britain, with a population of eighteen millions, is equal to the labor of hundreds of millions of human hands. this vast gain is effected without the conquest or partitioning of the territory of any neighboring nation, and without rapine or the confiscation of property already accumulated by others. it is an absolute creation of wealth--that is, of those articles, commodities, and improvements which we appraise and set down as of a certain moneyed value alike in the inventory of a deceased man's estate and in the grand valuation of a nation's capital. these contributions to human welfare have been derived from knowledge; from knowing how to employ those natural agencies which from the beginning of the race had existed, but had lain dormant or run uselessly away. for mechanical purposes, what is wind, or water, or the force of steam worth, until the ingenuity of man comes in, and places the wind-wheel, the water-wheel, or the piston _between_ these mighty agents and the work he wishes them to perform? but after the intervention of machinery, how powerful they become for all purposes of utility! in a word, these great improvements, which distinguish our age from all preceding ages, have been obtained from nature by addressing her in the language of science and art, the only language she understands, yet one of such all-pervading efficacy that she never refuses to comply to the letter with all petitions for wealth or physical power, if they are preferred to her in that dialect. now it is easy to show, from reasoning, from history, and from experience, that an early awakening of the mind is a prerequisite to success in the useful arts. but it must be an awakening to thought, not to feeling merely. in the first place, a clearness of perception must be acquired, or the power of taking a correct mental transcript, copy, or image of whatever is seen this, however, though indispensable, is by no means sufficient. _the talent of improving upon the labors of others_ requires not only the capability of receiving an exact mental copy or imprint of all the objects of sense or reasoning; it also requires the power of reviving or reproducing at will all the impressions or ideas before obtained, and the power of changing their collocations, of re-arranging them into new forms, and of adding something to or removing something from the original perceptions, in order to make a more perfect plan or model. if a ship-wright, for instance, would improve upon all existing specimens of naval architecture, he would first examine as great a number of ships as possible; this done, he would revive the image which each had imprinted upon his mind, and, with all the fleets which he had inspected present to his imagination, he would compare each individual vessel with all others, make a selection of one part from one, and of another part from another, apply his own knowledge of the laws of moving and of resisting forces to all, and thus create, in his own mind, the complex idea or model of a ship more perfect than any of those he had seen. _now every recitation in a school, if rightly conducted, is a step toward the attainment of this wonderful power._ with a course of studies judiciously arranged and diligently pursued through the years of minority, all the great phenomena of external nature, and the most important productions in all the useful arts, together with the principles on which they are evolved or fashioned, would be successively brought before the understanding of the pupil. he would thus become familiar with the substances of the material world, and with their manifold properties and uses; and he would learn the laws, comparatively few, by which results infinitely diversified are produced. when such a student goes out into life, he carries, as it were, a plan or model of the world in his own mind. he can not, therefore, pass, either blindly or with the stupid gaze of the brute creation, by the great objects and processes of nature; but he has an intelligent discernment of their several existences and relations, and their adaptation to the uses of mankind. neither can he fasten his eye upon any workmanship or contrivance of man without asking two questions: first, how is it? and, secondly, how can it be improved? hence it is that all the processes of nature and the contrivances of art are so many lessons or communications to an instructed man; but an uninstructed one walks in the midst of them like a blind man among colors, or a deaf man among sounds. the romans carried their aqueducts from hill-top to hill-top, on lofty arches erected at immense expenditure of time and money. one idea--that is, a knowledge of the law of the equilibrium of fluids; a knowledge of the fact that water in a tube will rise to the level of the fountain--would have enabled a _single individual_ to do with ease what, _without that knowledge_, it required the _wealth of an empire to accomplish_. it is in ways similar to this--that is, by accomplishing greater results with less means; by creating products at once cheaper, better, and by more expeditious methods; and by doing a vast variety of things otherwise impossible--that the cultivation of mind may be truly said to yield the highest pecuniary requital. _intelligence is the great money-maker, not by extortion_, but by production. there are ten thousand things in every department of life which, if done in season, can be done in a minute, but which, if not seasonably done, will require hours, perhaps days or weeks for their performance. an awakened mind will see and seize the critical juncture; the perceptions of the sluggish one will come too late, if they come at all. a general culture of the faculties, also, gives versatility of talent, so that, if the customary business of the laborer is superseded by improvements, he can readily betake himself to another kind of employment. but an uncultivated mind is like an automaton, which can do only the thing for which its wheels or springs were made. brute force expends itself unproductively. it is ignorant of the manner in which nature works, and hence it can not avail itself of her mighty agencies. often, indeed, it attempts to oppose nature. it throws itself across the track where her resistless car is moving. but knowledge enables its possessor to employ her agencies in his own service, and he thereby obtains an amount of power, without fee or reward, which thousands of slaves could not give. every man who consumes a single article in whose production or transportation the power of steam is used, has it delivered to him cheaper than he could otherwise have obtained it. every man who can avail himself of this power in traveling, can perform the business of three days in one, and so far add two hundred per cent. to the length of his life as a business man. what innumerable millions has the invention of the cotton-gin, by whitney, added, and will continue to add, to the wealth of the world! a part of which is already realized, but vastly the greater part of which is yet to be received, as each successive day draws for an installment which would exhaust the treasury of a nation. the instructed and talented man enters the rich domains of nature not as an _intruder_, but, as it were, a proprietor, and makes her riches his own. why is it that, so far as the united states are concerned, four fifths of all the improvements, inventions, and discoveries in regard to machinery, to agricultural implements, to superior models in ship-building, and to the manufacture of those refined instruments on which accuracy in scientific observations depends, have originated in new england? i believe no adequate reason can be assigned but the early awakening and training of the power of thought in her children. improvements, inventions, and discoveries have been made in other states of the union to an extent commensurate with the progress they have made in perfecting their systems of public instruction, and these improvements will ever keep pace with the attentions which a people bestow upon their common schools. mr. mann remarks that, in conversing with a gentleman who had possessed most extensive opportunities for acquaintance with men of different countries and of all degrees of intellectual development, he observed that he could employ a common immigrant or a slave, and, if he chose, could direct him to shovel a heap of sand from one spot to another, and then back into its former place, and so to and fro through the day; but, added he, neither love nor money would prevail on a new englander to prosecute a piece of work of which he did not see the utility. there is scarcely any kind of labor, however simple, pertaining to the farm, to the work-shop, or to domestic employments, and whether performed by male or female, which can be so well done without knowledge in the workman or domestic as with it. it is impossible for an overseer or employer at all times to supply mind to the laborer. in giving directions for the shortest series or train of operations, something will be omitted or misunderstood; and without intelligence in the workman, the omission or mistake will be repeated in the execution. it is a fact of universal notoriety, that the manufacturing population of england, as a class, work for half, or less than half the wages of our own. the cost of machinery there, also, is about half as much as the cost of the same articles with us; while our capital, when loaned, produces nearly double the rate of english interest; yet against these grand adverse circumstances our manufacturers, with a small per centage of tariff, successfully compete with english capitalists in many branches of manufacturing business. no explanation can be given of this extraordinary fact which does not take into the account the difference of education between the operatives in the two countries. one of our most careful and successful manufacturers remarks that, on substituting in one of his cotton-mills a better for a poorer educated class of operatives, he was enabled to add twelve or fifteen per cent. to the speed of his machinery, without any increase of damage or danger from the acceleration. how direct and demonstrative the bearing which facts like this have upon the wisdom of our laws respecting the education of children in manufacturing establishments.[ ] [ ] in connecticut the statutes provide "that no child under the age of fifteen years shall be employed to labor in any manufacturing establishment, or in any other business in the state, unless such child shall have attended some public or private day school where instruction is given by a teacher qualified to instruct in orthography, reading, writing, english grammar, geography, and arithmetic, at least three months of the twelve months next preceding any and every year in which such child shall be so employed. and the owner, agent, or superintendent of any manufacturing establishment who shall employ any child in such establishment contrary to the provisions of this act, shall forfeit and pay for each offense a penalty of twenty-five dollars to the treasurer of the state." in massachusetts the forfeiture is fifty dollars. similar provisions exist in other american, and in several european states. the number of females in the state of massachusetts engaged in the various manufactures of cotton, straw-platting, etc., has been estimated at forty thousand, and the annual value of their labor at one hundred dollars each on an average, or four millions of dollars for the whole. from the facts stated in the letters of messrs. mills and clark above cited, it appears there is a difference of not less than fifty per cent. between the earnings of the least educated and of the best educated operatives--between those who make their marks instead of writing their names, and those who have been acceptably employed in school-keeping. now suppose the whole forty thousand females engaged in the various kinds of manufactures in that commonwealth to be degraded to the level of the lowest class, it would follow that their aggregate earnings would fall at once to two millions of dollars. but, on the other hand, suppose them all to be elevated by mental cultivation to the rank of the highest, and their earnings would rise to the sum of six millions of dollars annually. there can be no doubt but that education, or the want of it, affects the pecuniary value of female labor in the ordinary domestic employments of the sex not less than in manufactures. if, then, the females of the thirty states of the union be estimated at eight millions--and the number sustaining the relations of daughters, wives, and mothers must exceed the supposition--the effect of giving them all an education equal to the best would at once raise their earnings, annually, two hundred millions of dollars! but this is the lowest sense in which we can estimate the value of education, even in the sterner sex. this sum, vast as it may seem, is as dross to gold when compared with the refining and elevating influence which eight millions of educated females would exert upon the domestic and social institutions of our country, in uplifting our national character and improving the condition of the race. not more than thirty years ago it was uncommon for a glazier's apprentice, even after having served an apprenticeship of seven years, to be able to cut glass with a diamond without spending much time and destroying much of the glass upon which he worked. but the invention of a simple tool has put it into the power of the merest tyro in the trade to cut glass with facility, and without loss. a man who had a _mind_, as well as _fingers_, observed that there was one direction in which the diamond was almost incapable of abrasion or wearing by use. the tool not only steadies the diamond, but fastens it in that direction. the operation of tanning leather consists in exposing a hide to the action of a chemical ingredient, called tannin, for a length of time sufficient to allow every particle of the hide to become saturated with the solution. in making the best leather, the hides used to lay in the pit for six, twelve, or eighteen months, and sometimes for two years, the tanner being obliged to wait all this time for a return of his capital. by the modern process, the hides are placed in a close pit, with a solution of the tannin matter, and the air being exhausted, the liquid penetrates through every pore and fiber of the skin, and the whole process is completed in a few days. the bleaching of cloth, which used to be effected in the open air, and in exposed situations where temptation to theft was offered, and in england hundreds and probably thousands of men have yielded and forfeited their lives, is now performed in an unexposed situation, and in a manner so expeditious, that cloth is bleached as much more rapidly than it formerly was as hides are tanned. it is stated by lord brougham, in his beautiful discourse on the advantages of science, that the inventor of the new mode of refining sugar made more money in a shorter time, and with less risk and trouble, than perhaps was ever realized from any previous invention. intelligence also _prevents loss_ as well as _makes profits_. how much time and money have been squandered in repeated attempts to invent machinery, after a principle had been once tested and had failed through some defect inherent and natural, and therefore insuperable! within thirty years not less than five patents have been taken out, in england and the united states, for a certain construction of paddle-wheels for a steamboat, which construction was tested and condemned as early as .[ ] a case once came within my own knowledge, says mr. mann, of a person who spent a fortune in mining for coal, when a work on geology, which would have cost but a dollar, and might have been read in a week, would have informed him that the stratum where he began to excavate belonged to a formation lower down in the natural series than coal ever is, or, according to the constitution of things, ever can be found. he therefore worked into a stratum which must have been formed before a particle of coal, or even a tree, or a vegetable existed on the planet. numerous similar and equally striking illustrations might be cited, but this is not necessary. [ ] this statement was made eight years ago. more such patents may have been taken out within this time. these are a few specimens, on familiar subjects, taken almost at random, for the purpose of showing the inherent superiority of any association or community, whether small or great, where _mind_ is a member of the partnership. what is true of the above-mentioned cases is true of the whole circle of those arts by which human life is sustained and human existence comforted, elevated, and embellished. mind has been the improver, for matter can not improve itself, and improvement has advanced in proportion to the number and culture of the minds excited to activity and applied to the work. _similar advancements have been effected throughout the whole compass of human labor and research;_ in the arts of transportation and locomotion, from the employment of the sheep and the goat as beasts of burden, to the steam-engine and the rail-road car; in the art of navigation, from the canoe clinging timidly to the shore, to steam-ships which boldly traverse the ocean; in hydraulics, from carrying water by hand in a vessel or in horizontal aqueducts, to those vast conduits which supply the demands of a city, and to steam fire-engines which throw a column of water to the top of the loftiest buildings; in the arts of spinning and rope-making, from the hand distaff to the spinning-frame, and to the machine which makes cordage or cables of any length, in a space ten feet square; in horology or time-keeping, from the sun-dial and the water-clock to the watch, and to the chronometer, by which the mariner is assisted in measuring his longitude, and in saving property and life; in the extraction, forging, and tempering of iron and other ores having malleability to be wrought into all forms and used for all purposes, and supplying, instead of the stone hatchet or the fish-shell of the savage, an almost infinite variety of instruments, which have sharpness for cutting or solidity for striking; in the art of vitrification or glass-making, giving not only a multitude of commodious and ornamental utensils for the household, but substituting the window for the unsightly orifice or open casement, and winnowing light and warmth from the outward and the cold atmosphere; in the arts of induration by heat, from bricks dried in the sun to those which withstand the corrosion of our climate for centuries or resist the intensity of the furnace; in the arts of illumination, from the torch cut from the fir or pine tree to the brilliant gas-light which gives almost a solar splendor to the nocturnal darkness of our cities; in the arts of heating and ventilation, which at once supply warmth for comfort and pure air for health; in the art of building, from the hollowed trunk of a tree or the roof-shaped cabin, to those commodious and lightsome dwellings which betoken the taste and competence of our villages and cities; in the art of copying or printing, from the toilsome process of hand-copying, where the transcription of a single book was the labor of months or years, and sometimes almost of a life, to the power printing-press, which throws off sixty printed sheets in a minute; in the art of paper-making, from the preparation of the inner bark of a tree, cleft off and dried at immense labor, to machinery from which there jets out an unbroken stream of paper with the velocity and continuousness of a current of water; in the art of painting, from the use of the crayon, and artificial colors imperfectly blended, requiring whole days to present an incomplete picture, to the production, as by enchantment, of perfect likenesses in nature's own penciling, executed in a few seconds; in the art of telegraphing, from communicating information by signs which may be seen from one station to another, to conveying intelligence to any given distance with the velocity of lightning; and, in addition to all these, in the arts of moulding and casting, of designing and engraving, of preserving materials and of changing their color, of dividing and uniting them, etc., etc., an ample catalogue, whose very names and processes would fill volumes. now, for the perfecting of all these operations, from the tedious and bungling process to the rapid and elegant; for the change of an almost infinite variety of crude and worthless materials into useful and beautiful fabrics, _mind_ has been the agent. succeeding generations have outstripped their predecessors just in proportion to the superiority of their mental cultivation. when we compare different people or different generations with each other, the diversity is so great that all must behold it. but there is the same kind of difference between contemporaries, fellow-townsmen, and fellow-laborers. though the uninstructed man works side by side with the intelligent, yet the mental difference between them places them in the same relation to each other that a _past age_ bears to the _present_. if the ignorant man knows no more respecting any particular art or branch of business than was generally known during the last century, _he belongs to the last century_, and he must consent to be outstripped by those who have the light and knowledge of the present. though they are engaged in the same kind of work, though they are supplied with the same tools or implements for carrying it on, yet, so long as one has only an _arm_, but the other has an arm and a mind, their products will come out stamped and labeled all over with marks of contrast; inferiority and superiority, both as to quantity and quality, will be legibly written on their respective labors. it is related by travelers among savage tribes that when, by the aid of an ingeniously devised instrument or apparatus, they have performed some skillful manual operation, the savages have purloined from them the instrument they had used, supposing there was some magic in the apparatus itself, by which the seeming miracle had been performed; but, as they could not steal _the art of the operator_ with the instrument which he employed, the theft was fruitless. any person who expects to effect with less education what another is enabled to do with more, ought not to smile at the delusion of the savage or the simplicity of his reasoning. on a cursory inspection of the great works of art--the steam-engine, the printing-press, the power-loom, the mill, the iron foundery, the ship, the telescope, etc., etc.--we are apt to look upon them as having sprung into sudden existence, and reached their present state of perfection by one, or, at most, by a few mighty efforts of creative genius. we do not reflect that they have required the lapse of centuries and the successive application of thousands of minds for the attainment of their present excellence; that they have advanced from a less to a more perfect form by steps and gradations almost as imperceptible as the growth by which an infant expands to the stature of a man; and that, as later discoverers and inventors had first to go over the ground of their predecessors, so must future discoverers and inventors first master the attainments of the present age before they will be prepared to make those new achievements which are to carry still further onward the stupendous work of improvement. education diminishes pauperism and crime. education is to be regarded as one of the most important means of eradicating the germs of pauperism from the rising generation, and of securing in the minds and in the morals of the people the best protection for the institutions of society.--dr. james phillips kay, _assistant poor-law commissioner, and secretary to the committee of council on education_.[ ] the different countries of the world, if arranged according to the state of education in them, will be found to be arranged also according to wealth, morals, and general happiness; at the same time, the condition of the people, and the extent of crime and violence among them, follow a like order.--national education, _by fred. hill, london_. that education increases the productiveness of labor has been already conclusively established. it has also been incidentally shown that mere knowledge, valuable as it is to the laborer, is not the only advantage derived from a good common school education, but that the better educated, as a class, possess a higher and better state of morals, and are more orderly and respectful in their deportment than the uninstructed; and that for those who possess the greatest share in the stock of worldly goods, the most effectual way of making insurance on their property would be, to contribute from it enough to sustain an efficient system of common school education, thereby educating the whole mass of mind, and constituting it a police more effective than peace officers or prisons. if, then, _poverty is at once a cause and an effect of crime_, as is stated by a late writer,[ ] who has made an extended survey of the relative state of instruction and social welfare in the leading nations of the world, it is directly inferable that education will, and, from the nature of the case, _must_ act in a compound ratio in diminishing both pauperism and crime. [ ] quoted from the report to the secretary of state for the home department, on the training of pauper children, london, . [ ] fred. hill, author of national education, whose testimony is quoted at the head of this article. this proposition is not received by a few individuals merely in comparatively unimportant communities: it is one which is generally adopted by enlightened practical educators and by liberal-minded capitalists of both hemispheres. the views of several of our principal american manufacturers have been already presented. let us now direct our attention to the testimony of enlightened and liberal-minded capitalists residing in some of the transatlantic states. william fairbrain, esq., the sole proprietor of a manufactory in manchester, and part owner of another establishment in london, and who has between eleven and twelve hundred persons in his employ, remarks in relation to the habits of the educated and uneducated as follows: there is no doubt that the educated are more sober and less dissipated than the uneducated. during the hours of recreation, the younger portion of the educated workmen indulge more in reading and mental pleasures; they attend more at reading-rooms, and avail themselves of the facilities afforded by libraries, by scientific lectures, and by lyceums. the older of the more educated workmen spend their time chiefly with their families, reading and walking out with them. the time of the uneducated classes is spent very differently, _and chiefly in the grosser sensual indulgences_. mr. fairbrain has given his own time as president of a lyceum for the use of the working classes, which furnishes the means of instruction in arithmetic, mathematics, drawing, and mensuration, and by lectures. in these institutions liberal provision is very properly made, not only for the occupation of the leisure hours of the laborers themselves, and for their intellectual and social improvement, but for that of their wives and families, in order "to make the home comfortable, and to minister to the household recreation and amusement: this is a point of view in which the education of the wives of laboring men is really of very great importance, that they may be rational companions for men."[ ] [ ] see evidence taken by edwin chadwick, esq., secretary to the poor-law commissioners, a quotation from whose report heads this article. albert g. escher, esq., one of the firm of escher, wyss, and co., of zurich, switzerland, remarks as follows: we employ from six to eight hundred men in our machine-making establishment at zurich: we also employ about two hundred men in our cotton-mills there, and about five hundred men in our cotton manufactories in the tyrol and in italy. i have occasionally had the control of from five to six hundred men engaged in engineering operations as builders, masons, etc., and men of the class called navigators in england. after giving a list of the different countries from which his laborers are drawn, classifying the workmen of various nations "in respect to such natural intelligence as may be distinguished from any intelligence imparted by the labors of the schoolmaster," and remarking in relation to the influence of education upon the value of labor--where his testimony corroborates that of manufacturers in new england, already quoted--the same gentleman makes a statement which is applicable to the subject under consideration. "_the better educated workmen, we find, are distinguished by superior moral habits in every respect._ in the first place, they are entirely sober; they are discreet in their enjoyments, which are of a more rational and refined kind; they are more refined themselves, and they have a taste for much better society, which they approach respectfully, and consequently find much readier admittance to it; they cultivate music; they read; they enjoy the pleasures of scenery, and make parties for excursions into the country; they are economical, and their economy extends beyond their own purse to the stock of their master; they are consequently honest and trustworthy." scotland affords a very striking illustration of the power of education in diminishing pauperism and crime, and in improving the morals and increasing the wealth of a country. indeed, it would be difficult to find another instance in the history of nations of a country which has made such rapid progress in the diminution of crime, the increase of public wealth, and the diffusion of comforts, as scotland. and this gratifying change--this remarkable instance of progress in the scale of being, has been concurrent with increased and increasing attention to the education of the people. at the beginning of the last century, scotland swarmed with gipsies and other vagabonds, who lived chiefly by stealing, and who often committed violent robberies and murders. of these pests to society it was estimated that there were not less than two hundred thousand. besides these, there were the more gentlemanly, though less tolerable robbers, such as the notorious rob roy, who made no more ado about seizing another man's cattle than a grazier does of driving from market a drove of oxen for which he has paid every shilling demanded. but now, the laying aside of a sum sufficient for the education of his children is an object which a scotchman seldom loses sight of, both when he thinks of marrying and settling in life, and at every future period; and it is to this habit, handed down from father to son, that the scotch owe their morality. one of their own writers says, "we have scarcely any rural population who are not perfectly aware of the importance of education, and not willing to make sacrifices to secure it to their children." having seen something of the excellence of education in improving the social and moral habits of a community, and in banishing pauperism and crime from among those who become the happy subjects of its uplifting power, let us, for the purpose of becoming more alive to its importance, consider the condition of a people where the masses are not brought under its benign influence. spain, which has been already referred to in illustration of the evils of ignorance, affords a striking illustration for our present purpose. until after the lapse of one third of the present century, there was but one newspaper published in this country! "yes, one miserable government gazette was the sole channel through which twelve or fourteen millions of people, spread over a vast territory, were to be supplied with information on the momentous affairs of their own country, and of the whole external world."--_national education_, vol. ii., p. . "the most authentic return of the number of children receiving education in spain was made in the year , and it is believed that but little change has taken place since that time. according to the returns, the number of children receiving education, exclusive of those brought up in convents and monasteries, was only one in every three hundred and forty-six of the population! m. jonnés estimates the population at about fourteen millions and a half, and assuming, as he does, that about the same fraction of the population is receiving education as in , he estimates the present number of children in school in the whole of spain at not more than about forty-three thousand; and, pursuing his calculations, he shows that, if his data be correct, not more than one child in thirty-five ever goes to school. he further states that the children thus favored are exclusively from the middle and upper classes."[ ]--_national education_, vol. ii., p. - . [ ] the writer would here remark, in reference to extracts made from various authors, that, for the sake of abridging, he has often, as in this case, left out parts of a paragraph, but never so as to modify the meaning. some ideas, not connected with the subject in hand, are omitted, but none are changed. how far the education given to the favored few is of a practical and useful kind, may be conjectured from the following extract from m. jonnés's work. after speaking of the many libraries, schools, colleges, and universities, the creation of past times, but which still exist, he remarks, that "these institutions were intended for a state of society which had nothing in common with that of the present day. the kind of instruction afforded in them, confined as it is to prayer, church discipline, and the dogmas of theology, has no connection with the interests and wants of the existing generation. "what every enlightened man in spain has long called for is a national, popular, gratuitous education, extending to all classes, as well in the towns as in the rural districts. up to the present time, the people have received no other instruction than that offered by the clergy, which has had scarcely any other object than the performance of religious ceremonies." in addition to what has been already stated, it may be remarked, that even with those who know how to read, "books and study are almost out of the question, because, unless in the principal cities, public libraries are nowhere to be found, and private libraries are luxuries that few possess." if education is conducive to virtue, and ignorance fosters crime, what must be the social and moral state of a country in which ignorance is so prevalent! "the amount of crime in spain is appalling. we have before us a return of convictions for the year , from which we shall make some extracts. our reason for taking this year is simply because we are unable to procure any return for a later one. the number of convictions for murder in england and wales in the year was thirteen, and the number convicted of wounding, etc., with intent to kill, was fourteen. these numbers are lamentably large. that the horrible crime of murder should ever be perpetrated is a most melancholy fact; and that so many as thirteen murders should be committed in one year must fill the mind of every moral man and lover of his country with grief and shame. but great as this number is absolutely, it sinks into insignificance when compared with the number of murders perpetrated in spain; for in that unhappy country, in the single year of , the number of convictions for murder reached the frightful height of twelve hundred and thirty-three! in addition to which, there were seventeen hundred and seventy-three convictions on charges of maiming with intent to kill, and sixteen hundred and twenty persons were convicted of robbery under aggravated circumstances. we doubt not for an instant this mass of crime is the offspring of ignorance."--_national education_, vol. ii., p. . it has been well remarked that the truest proofs of a good government are just laws, and that the best evidence of a well-organized government is to be found in the strict execution of these laws. "judging the spanish government by these tests, it will appear the worst and weakest government that ever held together. justice of no kind has any existence; there is the most lamentable insecurity of person and property; redress is never certain, because both judgment and the execution of the laws are left to men so inadequately paid that they must depend for their subsistence upon bribery. nothing is so difficult as to bring a man to trial who has any thing in his purse, except to bring him to execution: this, unless in madrid and catalonia, is impossible, for _money will always buy indemnity_. "i can state, upon certain information received in madrid, that the principal spanish diligences pay black mail to the banditti for their protection. this arrangement was at first entered into with some difficulty; and from a gentleman who was present at the interview between the person employed to negotiate on behalf of the diligences and the representative of the banditti, i learned a few particulars. the diligences in question were those between madrid and seville, and the sum offered for their protection was not objected to, but another difficulty was started. 'i have nothing to say against the terms you offer,' said the negotiator for the banditti, 'and i will at once insure you against being molested by robbers of consequence! but as for the _small fry_, i can not be responsible! we respect the engagements entered into by each other, _but there is nothing like honor among the petty thieves_.' the proprietors of the diligences, however, were satisfied with the assurance of protection against the great robbers, and the treaty was concluded; but not long afterward one of the coaches was stopped and rifled by the petty thieves: this led to an arrangement which has ever since proved effectual; one of the chiefs accompanies the coach on its journey, and overawes, by his name and reputation, the robbers of inferior degree."--_spain in_ , vol. i., p. . a volume might be filled with similar testimony, showing the great insecurity of person and property in various parts of this unhappy country. even "a woman who dares prosecute the murderer of her husband speedily receives a private intimation that effectually silences her; and it has not been uncommon for money to be put into the hands of an escrivano[ ] previous to the commission of a murder, in order to insure the services and protection of a person so necessary to one who meditates crime." [ ] the _escrivanos_, who figure so largely in spain, are the representatives of the lowest class of attorneys. nothing can be done without them, and they are not unfrequently almost the sole authority in a place capable of reading and writing. notwithstanding the miserable state of the rural districts, they contrive to make money, and many of them rise from this humble office to much higher places in the state. their wretched appointments are, consequently, objects of competition. i witnessed the execution of one at seville by accidentally entering the plaza, where the capuchins were bawling out the last words for his repetition, announcing to the crowd that they had done their duty, and he died in the true faith. he had been superseded in some village in the vicinity, and assassinated his rival.--_cook's sketches in spain_, vol. i., p. . _spain abounds in poverty._ ignorance conduces to crime, which, as we have seen, is at once a cause and an effect of poverty. in view of what has already been said of the ignorance and immorality of the spaniards, one would readily enough infer that poverty exists among them to a deplorable extent, and it is even so. in this country "every thing, indeed, appears to have conspired to paralyze industry, and to render of no avail the natural fertility of the soil. the havoc of war; the plunder committed by organized and powerful bodies of robbers; the rapacity of government and of its army of officers; the exclusion of foreign goods, and the consequent shutting up of the foreign market; the ignorance of the people as to the best modes of agriculture; and, last of all, the want of capital--all these combine to produce squalid poverty in a land which ought to," and, with a good system of popular education, most assuredly would, "abound in wealth." scotland and spain have been referred to, not to bring out a few facts in history merely, but to illustrate an important truth. where a good system of popular education is well administered in a country, and, as a consequence, intelligence, industry, and morality become universal among its citizens, they will eventually become a wealthy, and a highly-prosperous and happy community, even though they derive their subsistence from a naturally unfruitful soil; but, on the contrary, where popular education is neglected in a commonwealth, and its future citizens, as a consequence, grow up in ignorance, idleness, and vice, squalid poverty and flagrant crime will become prevalent throughout a wretched and degenerate community, that is scarcely able to gain a mere subsistence from a naturally productive soil. in further confirmation of the truth of the proposition that education diminishes crime, i will introduce the following statistics, gleaned from various official documents respecting prisons. according to returns to the british parliament, the commitments for crimes in an average of nine years in proportion to population are as follows: in manchester, the most infidel city in the nation, in ; in london, in ; in all ireland, in ; and in scotland, celebrated for learning and religion, in , ! the rev. dr. forde, for many years the ordinate of newgate, london, represents _ignorance_ as the first great cause, and _idleness_ as the second, of all the crimes committed by the inmates of that celebrated prison. sir richard phillips, sheriff of london, says that, on the memorial addressed to the sheriffs by criminals in the same institution, only signed their names in a fair hand, in an illegible scrawl, and that , two thirds of the entire number, were _marksmen_, signing with a cross. few of the prisoners could read with facility; more than half of them could not read at all; the most of them thought books were useless, and were totally ignorant of the nature, object, and end of religion. the rev. mr. clay, chaplain to the house of correction in lancashire, represents that out of persons committed, could not read; were barely capable of reading; only could read well; and only , or in , could read and write well. one half of the prisoners were quite ignorant of the simplest truths; of these, in of the entire number, were occasional readers of the bible; and only _one_ out of this large number was familiar with the holy scriptures and conversant with the principles of religion. among the represented as entirely ignorant, were incapable of repeating the lord's prayer. in the new york state prisons, as examined a few years ago, more than three fourths of the convicts had either received no education or a very imperfect one. out of at sing sing, could not read or write, and only --less than in --had received a good common school education. auburn prison presents similar statistics. out of prisoners, only could read, write, and cipher, and could do neither. the chaplain of the ohio penitentiary remarks that not only in the prison of that state, but in others, depraved appetites and corrupt habits, which have led to the commission of crime, are usually found with the ignorant, uninformed, and duller part of mankind. of at one time in that institution, nearly all were below mediocrity, and are represented as grossly ignorant, and, in point of education, scarcely capable of transacting the ordinary business of life. the preceding, it is believed, is no more than a fair specimen of the criminal statistics of this country and of the civilized world. i will conclude this dark catalogue by introducing a statement in relation to education and crime in a state which, according to the last general census, contained fewer persons in proportion to the whole population who were unable to read and write than any other state in the union. from this statement it appears that as a people become more generally intelligent and moral, a greater proportion of their criminals will be found among the ignorant and neglected classes. the chaplain of the connecticut state prison states that, out of prisoners, not one was liberally educated, or a member of either of the learned professions. of the whole number, were natives of connecticut; and of these, many of them could not understand the plainest sentences which they read, and their moral culture had been more neglected than their intellectual. from the investigations of this officer, it appears that out of every prisoners only two could be found who could read, write, and were temperate, and only four who could read, write, and followed any regular trade. it is evident, then, that while education increases the wealth and general happiness of a community, the want of it will reduce a people to a state of poverty and wretchedness; or, to repeat a sentiment placed at the head of this article, the different countries of the world, if arranged according to the state of education in them, will be found to be arranged also according to wealth, morals, and general happiness; at the same time, the condition of the people, and the extent of crime and violence among them, follow a like order. i might appropriately add under this head that a proper attention to the subject of education would greatly diminish the number of _fatal accidents_; that it would save _many lives_, prevent much of _idiocy_ and _insanity_, and a multitude of evils that ordinarily result from ignorance of the organic laws. fatal accidents.--he who understands the laws of motion knows that a man jumping from a carriage at speed is in great danger of falling after his feet reach the ground, for his body has the same forward velocity as if he had been running with the speed of the carriage, and unless he continues to advance his feet as in running to support his advancing body, he must as certainly be dashed to the ground as a runner whose feet are suddenly arrested. if, then, there is danger in leaping from a carriage in motion, how much greater is the hazard in jumping from a rail-road car under full headway. and yet many do this, jumping off side-wise, so that it is impossible to advance; and some even jump in the opposite direction from the motion of the car, which increases the already imminent hazard. from statistics recently collected, it appears that the great majority of accidents on the rail-roads of this country have happened in this way, a want of practical conformity to this one law of motion being the prevailing cause of fatality along these thoroughfares. this is but a specimen of the fatal accidents that are continually occurring in the every-day transactions of life, which might be prevented as easily as this by the practical application of a single scientific principle. loss of life.--in a single hospital at dublin, during four years, children out of , about in , died within a fortnight after their birth. dr. clark, the attending physician, suspecting a want of pure air to be the cause, provided for the ventilation of all the apartments; and by means of pipes six inches in diameter, introduced into every room a current of fresh, pure air, which is essential to vitality, and allowed that which was vitiated by respiration to escape. the consequence was, that during the three succeeding years only out of children died within the first two weeks, or less than in . as there was no other known cause of improvement in the health of these children, it may be justly inferred that, during the four years first mentioned, children, nine tenths of the whole number, had perished for want of pure air. it has been estimated that about in every of the deaths annually occurring in great britain and the united states are of children under five years of age. to avoid every possibility of exaggeration, we will place the number in this country at in . at this rate we lose about , children under five years of age every year. now, if nine tenths of the mortality among infants in the dublin hospital were caused by breathing bad air, we may reasonably infer that at least one half of the deaths in the united states of children under the age of five years proceed from the same fatal cause. and those who have noticed what pains are taken by excessively careful mothers[ ] and ignorant nurses to exclude from the lungs of infants the "free, pure, unadulterated air of heaven," and, by means of many thicknesses of enveloping shawls and blankets, require them to re-respire portions at least of their own breath, until it becomes a virulent and deadly poison, will think with me that this is a low estimate, and wonder that the swaddling-cloths of more infants do not become their winding-sheets. but, even according to this estimate, , children in the united states annually fall victims to the ignorance of their fond mothers. many thousands more are subsequently sacrificed in consequence of occupying small and unventilated bed-rooms and school-rooms, which, by a practical knowledge of the principles of physiology, might be saved. perhaps as many more become sufferers for life from the same cause, for a thousand forms of disease, as it manifests itself in every stage of life, either owe their existence or their severity to breathing bad air. these, then, who drag out a miserable existence in consequence of this cruel treatment, are to be more pitied than those who fall its ready victims. [ ] it would seem that the great majority of "educated mothers" do not realize the necessity of supplying pure air to the new-born child. before birth, the blood of the fetus is purified in the maternal lungs; after birth, in the lungs of the child, if at all; and for this purpose pure air is necessary. if so many thousand deaths occur annually in the united states from this one cause, in addition to the vast amount of misery which is entailed upon the wretched survivors, how many hundred thousand precious lives might be saved, and what untold wretchedness might be prevented, by a strict conformity to those physiological laws of our being which might and should be generally taught in the common schools of the land. education and idiocy.[ ]--the education of idiots has hitherto been regarded as paradoxical, and still is by the mass of mankind; but that it is possible to improve the condition of this most wretched and helpless class of persons none need longer doubt. the experiment has succeeded in both europe and america. massachusetts has the honor of taking the lead in this country; and it is meet that it should be so, for she has long, like a wise parent, been accustomed to care for all her children. she had most readily and generously seconded the efforts of humane men for the relief of the insane, the deaf mutes, and the blind, and made provision for their care and instruction. she extended her maternal love to the _bodies_ of those who were in hopeless idiocy, but as for _minds_, they seemed to have none; they were, therefore, kept out of sight of the public as much as possible until the year , when a board of commissioners were appointed "to inquire into the condition of the idiots of the commonwealth, to ascertain their number, and whether any thing can be done in their behalf." [ ] the statements under this head are drawn from dr. howe's report on idiocy, made in february last, and communicated by the governor to the legislature of the commonwealth of massachusetts. the author visited the institution in south boston during the past summer, and derived much information on the subject from personal observation and inquiry. in their report the commissioners say that, "by diligent and careful inquiries in nearly one hundred towns in different parts of the state, we have ascertained the existence and examined the condition of _five hundred and seventy-five_ human beings who are condemned to hopeless idiocy, who are considered and treated as idiots by their neighbors, and left to their own brutishness. they are also idiotic in a legal sense; that is, they are regarded as incapable of entering into contracts, and are irresponsible for their actions." the commissioners conclude that, "if the other parts of the state contain the same proportion of idiots to their whole population, the total number in the commonwealth is between _fourteen and fifteen hundred_!" now if we make the same estimate in proportion to the entire population, it will appear that in the united states there are upward of _thirty-five thousand_ persons in the most wretched and helpless condition of idiocy. in view of the great number of idiots in the commonwealth, the commissioners say, "it appeared to us certain that the existence of so many idiots in every generation must be the consequence of some violation of the _natural laws_; that where there was so much suffering there must have been sin. we resolved, therefore, to seek for the _sources_ of the evil, as well as to gauge the depth and extent of the misery." some of the causes of idiocy are set forth in the report, two of which are as follows: first, _the low condition of the physical organization_ of one or both parents, induced often by _intemperance_; second, _the intermarriage of relatives_. the report states that out of cases of congenital idiocy which were examined, some information was gained respecting the condition of the progenitors of . now in all these cases, save only four, it was found that one or the other, or both, of the immediate progenitors of the unfortunate sufferer had in some way widely departed from the normal condition of health, and violated the natural laws. that is to say, one or the other, or both of them, had been very unhealthy or scrofulous; or hereditarily predisposed to affections of the brain, causing occasional insanity; or had intermarried with blood relatives; or had been intemperate; or had been guilty of sensual excesses which impair the constitution.[ ] [ ] the subject of hereditary transmission of diseased tendency is of vast importance, but it is a difficult one to treat, because a squeamish delicacy makes people avoid it; but if ever the race is to be relieved of a tithe of the bodily ills which flesh is now heir to, it must be by a clear understanding of, and a willing obedience to, the law which makes the parents the blessing or the curse of the children; the givers of strength, and vigor, and beauty, or the dispensers of debility, and disease, and deformity. it is by the lever of enlightened parental love, more than by any other power, that mankind is to be raised to the highest attainable point of bodily perfection.--dr. s. g. howe. intemperance and idiocy.--out of the three hundred and fifty-nine idiots, the condition of whose progenitors was ascertained, _ninety-nine were the children of drunkards_. but this does not tell the whole story by any means. by drunkard is meant a person who is a notorious and habitual sot. many persons who are habitually intemperate do not get this name _even now_; much less would they have done so twenty-five or thirty years ago. by a pretty careful inquiry, with an especial view of ascertaining the number of idiots of the lowest class whose parents were known to be _temperate_ persons, it is found that _not one quarter_ can be so considered. from the pretty uniform action of a physiological law, which is now becoming well understood, it appears that idiots, fools, and simpletons, either in the first or second generation, are common among the progeny of intemperate persons, and may be considered as an effect of the _habitual_ use of alcohol, even in moderate quantities. if, moreover, one considers how many children of intemperate parents there are who, without being idiots, are deficient in bodily and mental energy, and predisposed by their very organization to have cravings for alcoholic stimulants, it will be seen what an immense burden the drinkers of one generation throw upon the succeeding one. idiocy and the marriage of relatives.--out of the three hundred and fifty-nine cases of congenital idiocy already referred to, in which the parentage was ascertained, "seventeen were _known_ to be the children of parents nearly related by blood; but, as many of these cases were adults, it was impossible to ascertain, in some cases, whether their parents, who were dead, were related or not before marriage. from some collateral evidence, we conclude that at least three more cases should be added to the seventeen. this would show that more than one twentieth of the idiots examined are offspring of the marriage of relations. now, as marriages between near relations are by no means in the ratio of one to twenty, nor even, perhaps, as one to a thousand to the marriages between persons not related, it follows that the proportion of idiotic progeny is vastly greater in the former than in the latter case. then it should be considered that idiocy is only _one_ form in which nature manifests that she has been offended by such intermarriages. it is probable that blindness, deafness, imbecility, and other infirmities, are more likely to be the lot of the children of parents related by blood than of others. the probability, therefore, of unhealthy or infirm issue from such marriages becomes fearfully great, and the existence of the law against them is made out as clearly as though it were written on tables of stone. "the statistics of the seventeen families, the heads of which, being blood relatives, intermarried, tells a fearful tale. most of the parents were intemperate or scrofulous; some were both the one and the other; of course, there were other causes to increase chances of infirm offspring besides that of the intermarriage. there were born unto them ninety-five children, of whom forty-four were idiotic, twelve others were scrofulous and puny, one was deaf, and one was a dwarf! in some cases, all the children were either idiotic, or very scrofulous and puny. in one family of eight children, five were idiotic." condition of idiots.--from what has been said of the character of parents to whom are born the greatest proportion of this most wretched and helpless class of persons, their condition and treatment might be inferred. to rear healthy children properly, a knowledge of the principles of physiology and mental science is essentially necessary. this knowledge is still more important in the treatment of idiots. dr. howe is of the opinion that it requires a rarer and higher kind of talent to teach an idiot than a youth of superior talent. when the time comes that schools for idiots are established all over the country, he thinks "it will be found more difficult to get good teachers for them than to get good professors for our colleges." after excepting five or six alms-houses in which the idiots are treated both kindly and wisely, the commissioners say, "the general condition of those at the public charge is most deplorable. they are filthy, gluttonous, lazy, and given up to abominations of various kinds. they not only do not improve, but they sink deeper and deeper into bodily depravity and mental degradation. bad, however, as is the condition of the idiots who are at public charge, and gross as is the ignorance of those who take the charge of them about their real wants and capabilities, we are constrained to say that the condition of those in private houses is, generally speaking, still worse, and the ignorance of the relatives and friends who support them is still more profound." this is not to be wondered at when we consider that idiots are generally born of a very poor stock--of persons who are subject to some disorders of the brain, or who are themselves scrofulous and puny to the last degree. such persons are, generally, very feeble in intellect, poor in purse, and intemperate in habits. a great many of them are hardly able to take care of themselves. they are unfit to teach or train common children; how much less to take the charge of idiots, whose education is the most difficult of all! the commissioners ascertained, mainly by personal observation, the condition of three hundred and fifty-five idiotic persons who are not town or state paupers. of these there may be, at the most, five who are treated very judiciously; who are taught by wise and discreet persons, and whose faculties and capabilities are developed to their fullest extent; but the remaining three hundred and fifty are generally "in a most deplorable condition as it respects their bodily, mental, and moral treatment."[ ] [ ] one would hardly be credited if he should put down half the instances of gross ignorance manifested by parents in this enlightened community [the state of massachusetts] in the treatment of idiotic children. sometimes they find that the children seem to comprehend what they hear, but soon forget it; hence they conclude that the brain is soft, and can not retain impressions, and then they cover the head with cold poultices of oak-bark in order to tan or harden the fibers. others, finding that it is exceedingly difficult to make any impression upon the mind, conclude that the brain is too hard, and they torture the poor child with hot and _softening_ poultices of bread and milk; or they plaster tar over the whole skull, and keep it on for a long time. _these are innocent applications compared with some, which doubtless render weak-minded children perfectly idiotic._--dr. s. g. howe. what a striking illustration have we here of the necessity of diffusing correct physiological information more widely among the masses than has yet been done even in enlightened massachusetts! the commissioners come to the unquestionable conclusion in their report that "nothing can afford a stronger argument in favor of an institution for the proper training and teaching of idiots, and the dissemination of information upon the subject, than the striking difference manifested in the condition of the few children who are properly cared for and judiciously treated, and those who are neglected or abused. there are cases in our community of youths who are idiotic from birth, but who, under proper care and training, have become cleanly in person, quiet in deportment, industrious in habits, and who would almost pass in society for persons of common intelligence; and yet their natural capacity was no greater than that of others, who, from ignorance or neglect of their parents, have become filthy, gluttonous, lazy, vicious, depraved, and are rapidly sinking into driveling idiocy. this fact alone should be enough to encourage the state to take measures at once for the establishment of a school or institution for teaching or training idiots, if it were but a matter of experiment." massachusetts is the only state in the union that as yet has attempted to do any thing for the education and training of this hitherto neglected class of persons. the result of the first year's experiment has been most gratifying and encouraging. of the whole number received, there was not one who was in a situation where any great improvement in his condition was probable, or hardly possible; they were growing worse in habits, and more confirmed in their idiocy. but the process of deterioration in the pupils has been entirely stopped, and that of improvement has commenced; and though a year is a very short time in the instruction of such persons, yet its effects are manifest in all of them. they have improved in personal appearance and habits, in general health, in vigor, and in activity of body. some of them can control their appetites in a considerable degree; they sit at the table with their teachers, and feed themselves decently. almost all of them have improved in the understanding and the use of speech. some of them have made considerable progress in the knowledge of language; they can select words printed on slips of paper, and a few can read simple sentences. but, what is most important, they have made a start forward. "there is ground for confidence that the reasonable hopes of the friends of the experiment will be satisfied. all that they promised has been accomplished, so far as was possible in the period of a year. it has been demonstrated that idiots are capable of improvement, and that they can be raised from a state of _low degradation_ to a higher condition. how far they can be elevated, and to what extent they may be educated, can only be shown by the experience of the future. the result of the past year's trial, however, gives confidence that each succeeding year will show even more progress than any preceding one." education and insanity.--it is well established that a defective and faulty education through the period of infancy and childhood is one of the most prolific causes of insanity. such an education, or rather miseducation, causes a predisposition in many, and excites one where it already exists, which ultimately renders the animal propensities of our nature uncontrollable. appetites indulged and perverted, passions unrestrained, propensities rendered vigorous by indulgence, and subjected to no salutary restraint, bring persons into a condition in which both moral and physical causes easily operate to produce insanity, if they do not produce it themselves. we must look to well-directed systems of popular education, having for their object physical improvement, no less than mental and moral culture, to relieve us from many of the evils which "flesh is heir to," and nothing can so effectually secure us from this most formidable disease (as well as from others not less appalling) as that system of instruction which teaches us how to preserve the normal condition of the body and the mind; to fortify the one against the catalogue of physical causes which every where assail us, and to elevate the other above the influence of the trials and disappointments of life, so that the host of moral causes which affect the brain, through the medium of the mind, shall be inoperative and harmless. those first principles of physical education which teach us how to avoid disease are all-important to all liable to insanity from hereditary predisposition. the physical health must be attended to, and the training of the faculties of the mind be such as to counteract the over-active propensities of our nature--correcting the bias of the mind to wrong currents and to too great activity by bringing into action the antagonizing powers, and thus giving a sound body and a well-balanced mind. neglect of this early training entails evils upon the young which are felt in all after life. these positions are stated and amplified in the able reports of dr. s. b. woodward, superintendent of the state lunatic asylum, worcester, mass., to which the reader is referred. they are also corroborated by persons who have had the care of the insane in other institutions. in the eighteenth annual report of the physician and superintendent of the connecticut retreat for the insane, dr. brigham says, "a knowledge of the nature of the disease would frequently lead to its prevention. insanity, in most cases, arises from undue excitement and labor of the brain; for even if a predisposition to it is inherited, an exciting cause is essential to its development. hence every thing likely to cause great excitement of the brain, especially in early life, should be avoided. "the records of cases at this institution and my own observation justify me in saying that the neglect of moral discipline, the too great indulgence of the passions and emotions in early life, together with the excessive and premature exercise of the mental powers, are among the most frequent causes that predispose to insanity. but these causes are in no other way operative in producing insanity than by unduly exciting the brain. by neglect of moral discipline, a character is formed subject to violent passions, and to extreme emotions and anxiety from the unavoidable evils and disappointments of life, and thus the brain, by being often and violently agitated, becomes diseased; and by too early exercising and prematurely developing the mental powers, this organ is rendered more susceptible and liable to disease. "i am confident there is too much mental labor imposed upon youth at our schools and colleges. there have been several admissions of young ladies at this institution direct from boarding-schools, and of young men from college, where they had studied excessively. should such intense exertion of the mind in youth not lead to insanity or immediate disease, it predisposes to dyspepsy, hysteria, hypochondriasis, and affections allied to insanity, and which are often its precursors. should that portion of the community who now act most wisely in obtaining a knowledge of the functions of the digestive organs, and in carefully guarding them from undue excitation, be equally regardful of the brain, they would do a very great service to society, and, in my opinion, do much toward arresting the alarming increase of insanity, and all disorders of the nervous system."[ ] [ ] in the education of many, very many, i fear, the same mistake is made as in the case of lord dudley, thus described in a late number of the london quarterly review: "the irritable susceptibility of the brain was stimulated at the expense of bodily power and health. his foolish tutors took a pride in his precocious progress, which they ought to have kept back. they watered the forced plant with the blood of life; they encouraged the violation of nature's laws, which are not to be broken in vain; they infringed the condition of conjoint moral and physical existence; they imprisoned him in a vicious circle, where the overworked brain injured the stomach, which reacted to the injury of the brain. they watched the slightest deviation from the rules of logic, and neglected those of dietetics, to which the former are a farce. they thought of no exercises but latin; they gave him a gradus instead of a cricket-bat, until his mind became too keen for its mortal coil, and the foundation was laid for ill health, derangement of stomach, moral pusillanimity, irresolution, lowness of spirits, and all the protean miseries of nervous disorders, by which his after life was haunted, and which are sadly depicted in almost every letter before us." education increases human happiness. what is a man if his chief good and market of his time be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more. sure he that made us with such large discourse, looking before and after, gave us not that capability and godlike reason to rust in us unused.--shakspeare. all the happiness of man is derived from discovering, applying, or obeying the laws of his creator; and all his misery is the result of ignorance or disobedience.--dr. wayland. if the doctrines taught and the sentiments inculcated in the preceding chapters of this work, but more especially in the preceding sections of this chapter, are true; if it is established that education dissipates the evils of ignorance; that it increases the productiveness of labor; that it diminishes pauperism and crime--if all this is true, it may seem a work of supererogation to attempt the establishment of the proposition that education increases human happiness. i admit this seeming impropriety; for that the proposition is true may be legitimately inferred from what has gone before. but i wish to amplify and extend this thought, and to show that education has, if possible, still higher claims upon our attention than have yet been presented; that it not only has the power of removing physical and moral evils, and of multiplying and augmenting personal and social enjoyments, but that, when rightly understood, it constitutes our chief good; that to it, and to it only, we may safely look for man's highest and enduring joys, and for the permanent elevation of the race. man in ignorance.--that we may be the better prepared to appreciate the advantages of education, and its usefulness as a means of increasing human happiness, let us consider the state and the enjoyments of the man whose mind is shrouded in ignorance. he grows up to manhood like a vegetable, or like one of the lower animals that are fed and nourished for the slaughter. he exerts his physical powers because such exertion is necessary for his subsistence. were it otherwise, we should most frequently find him dozing over the fire with a gaze as dull and stupid as his ox, regardless of every thing but the gratification of his appetites. he has, perhaps, been taught the art of reading, but has never applied it to the acquisition of knowledge. his views are chiefly confined to the objects immediately around him, and to the daily avocations in which he is employed. his knowledge of society is circumscribed within the limits of his neighborhood, and his views of the world are confined within the range of the country in which he resides, or of the blue hills which skirt his horizon. of the aspect of the globe in other countries, of the various tribes with which these are peopled, of the seas and rivers, continents and islands, which diversify the landscape of the earth, of the numerous orders of animated beings which people the ocean, the atmosphere, and the land, of the revolutions of nations, and the events which have taken place in the history of the world, he has almost as little conception as have the animals which range the forest. in regard to the boundless regions that lie beyond him in the firmament, and the bodies that roll there in magnificent grandeur, he has the most confused and inaccurate ideas; indeed, he seldom troubles himself with inquiries in relation to such subjects. whether the stars are great or small, whether they are near us or at a distance, and whether they move or stand still, are to him matters of trivial importance. if the sun gives him light by day and the moon by night, and the clouds distil their watery treasures upon his parched fields, he is contented, and leaves all such inquiries and investigations to those who have leisure and inclination to engage in them. he views the canopy of heaven as merely a ceiling to our earthly habitation, and the starry orbs as only so many luminous tapers to diversify its aspect, and to afford a glimmering light to the benighted traveler. such a person has no idea of the manner in which the understanding may be enlightened and expanded by education; he has no relish for intellectual pursuits, and no conception of the pleasures they afford; and he sets no value on knowledge but in so far as it may increase his riches and his sensual gratifications. he has no desire for making improvements in his trade or domestic arrangements, and gives no countenance to those useful inventions and public improvements which are devised by others. he sets himself against every innovation, whether religious, political, mechanical, or agricultural, and is determined to abide by the "good old customs" of his forefathers, even though they compel him to carry his grist to mill in one end of a bag, with a stone in the other to balance it. were it dependent upon him, the moral world would stand still, as the material world was supposed to in former times; all useful inventions would cease; existing evils would never be remedied; ignorance and superstition would universally prevail; the human mind would be arrested in its progress to perfection, and man would never arrive at the true dignity of his intellectual nature. it is evident that such an individual--and the world contains thousands and millions of such characters--can never have his mind elevated to those sublime objects and contemplations which enrapture the man of science, nor feel those pure and exquisite pleasures which cultivated minds so frequently experience; nor can he form those lofty and expansive conceptions of the deity which the grandeur and magnificence of his works are calculated to inspire. he is left as a prey to all those foolish notions and vain alarms which are engendered by ignorance and superstition; and he swallows, without the least hesitation, all the absurdities and childish tales respecting witches, hobgoblins, specters, and apparitions, which have been handed down to him by his forefathers. while the ignorant man thus gorges his mind with fooleries and absurdities, he spurns at the discoveries of science as impositions on the credulity of mankind, and contrary to reason and common sense. that the sun is a million of times larger than the earth; that light flies from his body at the rate of a hundred thousand miles in the hundredth part of a second; and that the earth is whirling round its axis from day to day with a velocity of a thousand miles every hour, are regarded by him as notions far more improbable and extravagant than the story of the "wonderful lamp," and all the other tales of the "arabian night's entertainments." in his hours of leisure from his daily avocations, his thoughts either run wild among the most groveling objects, or sink into sensuality and inanity; and solitude and retirement present no charms to his vacant mind. while human beings are thus immersed in ignorance, destitute of rational ideas and of a solid substratum of thought, they can never experience those pleasures and enjoyments which flow from the exercise of the understanding, and which correspond to the dignity of a rational and immortal nature. an enlightened mind.--on the other hand, the man whose mind is irradiated with the light of substantial science has views, and feelings, and exquisite enjoyments to which the former is an entire stranger. in consequence of the numerous and multifarious ideas he has acquired, he is introduced, as it were, into a new world, where he is entertained with scenes, objects, and movements, of which the mind enveloped in ignorance can form no conception. he can trace back the stream of time to its commencement, and, gliding along its downward course, can survey the most memorable events which have happened in every part of its progress, from the primeval ages to the present day; the rise of empires, the fall of kings, the revolutions of nations, the battles of warriors, and the important events which have followed in their train; the progress of civilization, and of the arts and sciences; the judgments which have been inflicted on wicked nations, the dawnings of divine mercy toward our fallen race, the manifestation of the son of god in our nature, the physical changes and revolutions which have taken place in the constitution of our globe; in short, the whole of the leading events in the chain of divine dispensation, from the beginning of the world to the period in which we live. with his mental eye the enlightened man can survey the terraqueous globe in all its variety of aspects; he can contemplate the continents, islands, and oceans which surround its exterior; the numerous rivers by which it is indented; the lofty ranges of mountains which diversify its surface; its winding caverns; its forests, lakes, and sandy deserts; its whirlpools, boiling springs, and glaciers; its sulphurous mountains, bituminous lakes, and the states and empires into which it is distributed; the tides and currents of the ocean; the icebergs of the polar regions, and the verdant scenes of the torrid zone. sitting at his fireside during the blasts of winter, the enlightened man can survey the numerous tribes of mankind scattered over the various climates of the earth, and entertain himself with views of their manners, customs, religion, laws, trade, manufactures, marriage ceremonies, civil and ecclesiastical governments, arts, sciences, cities, towns, and villages, and the animals peculiar to every region. in his rural walks he can not only appreciate the beneficence of nature, and the beauties and harmonies of the vegetable kingdom in their exterior aspect, but he can also penetrate into the hidden processes which are going on in the roots, trunks, and leaves of plants and flowers, and contemplate the numerous vessels through which the sap is flowing from their roots through the trunks and branches; the millions of pores through which their odoriferous effluvia exhale; their fine and delicate texture; their microscopical beauties; their orders, genera, and species, and their uses in the economy of nature. even when shrouded in darkness and in solitude, where other minds could find no enjoyment, the man of knowledge can entertain himself with the most sublime contemplations. he can trace the huge earth we inhabit flying through the depths of space, carrying along with it its vast population, at the rate of sixty thousand miles every hour, and, by the inclination of its axis, bringing about the alternate succession of summer and winter, of seed-time and harvest. by the aid of his telescope he can transport himself toward the moon, and survey the circular plains, the deep caverns, the conical hills, the lofty peaks, and the rugged and romantic mountain scenery which diversify the surface of this orb of night. by the help of the same instrument he can range through the planetary system, wing his way through the regions of space along with the swiftest orbs, and trace many of the physical aspects and revolutions which have a relation to distant worlds. he can transport himself to the planet saturn, and behold a stupendous ring six hundred thousand miles in circumference, revolving in majestic grandeur every ten hours around a globe nine hundred times larger than the earth, while seven moons larger than ours, along with an innumerable host of stars, display their radiance to adorn the firmament of that magnificent world. he can wing his flight through the still more distant regions of the universe, leaving the sun and all his planets behind him, till they appear like a scarcely discernible speck in creation, and contemplate thousands and millions of stars and starry systems beyond the range of the unassisted eye, and wander among the suns and worlds dispersed throughout the boundless dimensions of space. in his imagination he can fill up those blanks which astronomy has never directly explored, and conceive thousands of systems and ten thousands of worlds beyond all that is visible by the optic tube, stretching out to infinity on every hand, peopled with intelligences of various orders, and all under the superintendence and government of the "king eternal, immortal, and invisible," whose power is omnipotent, and the limit of his dominions past finding out. it is evident that a mind capable of such excursions and contemplations as i have now supposed must experience enjoyments infinitely superior to those of the individual whose soul is enveloped in intellectual darkness. if substantial happiness is chiefly situated in the mind; if it depends on the multiplicity of objects which lie within the range of its contemplation; if it is augmented by the view of scenes of beauty and sublimity, and displays of infinite intelligence and power; if it is connected with tranquillity of mind, which generally accompanies intellectual pursuits, and the subjugation of the pleasures of sense to the dictates of reason, the enlightened mind must enjoy gratifications as far superior to those of the ignorant as man is superior in station and capacity to the worms of the dust. in order to illustrate this topic a little further, i shall select a few facts and deductions in relation to science, which demonstrate the interesting nature and delightful tendency of scientific pursuits. there are several recorded instances of the powerful effect which the study of astronomy has produced upon the human mind. dr. rittenhouse, of pennsylvania, after he had calculated the transit of venus, which was to happen june d, , was appointed, at philadelphia, with others, to repair to the township of norriston, and there to observe this planet until its passage over the sun's disc should verify the correctness of his calculations. this occurrence had never been witnessed but twice before by an inhabitant of our earth, and was never to be again seen by any person then living. a phenomenon so rare, and so important in its bearings upon astronomical science, was, indeed, well calculated to agitate the soul of one so alive as he was to the great truths of nature. the day arrived, and there was no cloud on the horizon. the observers, in silence and trembling anxiety, awaited for the predicted moment of observation to arrive. it came, and in the instant of contact, an emotion of joy so powerful was excited in the bosom of dr. rittenhouse that he fainted. sir isaac newton, after he had advanced so far in his mathematical proof of one of his great astronomical doctrines as to see that the result was to be triumphant, was so affected in view of the momentous truth he was about to demonstrate that he was unable to proceed, and begged one of his companions in study to relieve him, and carry out the calculation. these are striking illustrations, and the effect is perhaps heightened from their connection with a most sublime science, all of whose conclusions stand in open contradiction with those of superficial and vulgar observation. but the discovery and contemplation of truths in philosophy, chemistry, and the mathematics have, in numerous instances, awakened kindred emotions. the enlightened man sees in every thing he beholds upon the surface of the earth, whether animal or vegetable, and in the very elements themselves, no less than when contemplating the wonders of astronomy, instances innumerable illustrative of the wisdom and beneficence of the architect, all of which has a direct tendency to increase his happiness. in the invisible atmosphere which surrounds him, where other minds discern nothing but an immense blank, he beholds an assemblage of wonders, and a striking scene of divine wisdom and omnipotence. he views this invisible agent not only as a _material_, but as a _compound_ substance, composed of two opposite principles, the one the source of flame and animal life, and the other destructive to both. he perceives the atmosphere as the agent under the almighty which produces the germination and growth of plants, and all the beauties of the vegetable creation; which preserves water in a liquid state, supports fire and flame, and produces animal heat; which sustains the clouds, and gives buoyancy to the feathered tribes; which is the cause of winds, the vehicle of smells, the medium of sounds, the source of all the pleasures we derive from the harmonies of music, the cause of the universal light and splendor which is diffused around us, and of the advantages we derive from the morning and evening twilight. he contemplates it as the prime mover in a variety of machines, as impelling ships across the ocean, raising balloons to the region of the clouds, blowing our furnaces, raising water from the deepest pits, extinguishing fires, and performing a thousand other beneficent agencies, without which our globe would cease to be habitable. no one can doubt that all these views and contemplations have a direct tendency to enlarge the capacity of the mind, to stimulate its faculties, and to produce rational enjoyment. but there is another view of this subject which is perhaps still more impressive. the atmosphere, it has been stated, is a compound substance. a knowledge of its elementary principles, which chemistry teaches, introduces its possessor to a new world of happiness. the adaptation of air to respiration, and the influence of a change in the nature or proportion of its elements upon health and longevity, have already been considered.[ ] we have seen that carbonic acid, the vitiating product of respiration, although immediately fatal to animals, constitutes the very life of vegetation; that in the growth of plants the vitiated air is purified and fitted again for the sustenance of animal life; and that, by a beneficent provision of the creator, animals and vegetables are thus perpetually interchanging kindly offices. it will suffice for our present purpose simply to remind the reader that the atmosphere is composed of the two gases, oxygen and nitrogen, united in the ratio of one to four by volume. oxygen is a supporter of combustion, nitrogen is not. increase the proportion of oxygen in the air, and the same substances burn with increased brilliancy; but diminish the proportion gradually, and they will burn more and more dimly until they become extinct. iron and steel, as well as wood and the ordinary combustibles, will burn with great brilliancy in pure oxygen. [ ] see chapter iv., especially from the th page to the th. water, i may add, is composed of the two gases, oxygen and hydrogen. the former, as we have seen, is a supporter of combustion, and the latter is one of the most combustible substances known. these two gases are nearly two thousand times more voluminous than their equivalent of water, and, when ignited, they _combine with explosive energy_. if, then, the creator were to decompose the atmosphere that surrounds the earth to the height of forty-five miles, and the water that rests upon its surface, either or both of them, the oxygen, being specifically heavier than the nitrogen or hydrogen, would settle immediately upon the earth, and, coming in contact with fires here and there, its whole surface would, in an instant of time, be enveloped in one general conflagration, and "the day of the lord," spoken of in the scriptures, "in which the heavens shall pass away with a great noise, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat, the earth also, and the things therein shall be burned up," would be speedily ushered in. he who understands the first principles of chemical science can not fail to perceive how readily (and in perfect accordance with laws well understood) such a general conflagration would take place were the great architect simply to resolve these two elements--air and water--into their constituent parts. how full of meaning to such a one are the words of the psalmist, _the heavens declare the glory of god, and the firmament showeth his handiwork_. one more illustration must suffice. all fluids, except water, contract in volume as they become colder to the point of congelation. but the point of greatest density in water is about eight degrees above freezing. as the temperature of all fluids _increases_ above this point, their volume increases. as the temperature of all fluids, with the single exception of water, _decreases_, the volume decreases down to the freezing point. water increases in density as it becomes colder until it reaches the temperature of forty degrees--eight degrees above the freezing point--when it begins to expand. this only exception to the general law of fluids is of greater importance in the economy of nature than most persons are conscious of. as the cold season advances in the temperate and frigid zones, the water in our lakes and rivers is reduced to the temperature of forty degrees; but at this point, by a beneficent provision of an all-wise providence, the upper substratum becomes specifically lighter, and is converted into a covering of ice, which, resting upon the water beneath, protects it from freezing. moreover, when water is converted into ice, one hundred and forty degrees of heat are given out, a part of which, entering into the water below, retards the further formation of ice.[ ] [ ] i may here add, that exactly the _reverse_ is true in the _melting_ of snow and ice. it requires as much heat to convert these solids into fluids, without at all increasing their temperature, as it does to raise the temperature of water from the freezing point, one hundred and forty degrees, or from thirty-two to one hundred and seventy-two degrees, as indicated by the thermometer. this principle is of vast importance to the world, and particularly to the inhabitants of cold countries, where the ground is covered with snow and ice a part or the whole of the year. the transition from the cold of winter to the heat of summer, in some of the northern climates, takes place within a few days. in these climates, also, there are vast accumulations of snow and ice, which, but for this principle, would be converted into water as soon as the temperature of the atmosphere becomes above thirty-two degrees, which would produce a flood sufficient to inundate and destroy the whole country. but the uniform action of this law renders the melting of snow gradual, and no such accident ensues. a similar law is observed in the conversion of _water_ into _vapor_, which is of great use in enabling us to cool apartments by sprinkling floors or hanging up moistened cloths. the heat of even a whole city is in like manner greatly moderated by frequently sprinkling the streets. it is on this account that gentle showers in hot weather are so cooling and refreshing. if water, like other fluids, continued to increase in density to the freezing point, the cold air of winter would rob the water of our lakes and rivers of its heat, until the whole was reduced to the temperature of thirty-two degrees; when, but for the circumstance to which we have just alluded, it would be immediately converted into a solid mass of ice from top to bottom, causing instant death to every animal living in it. the lower strata of such a mass of ice would never again become liquefied. this is a striking proof of the beneficence and design of the creator in forming water with such an exception to the ordinary laws of nature, and a knowledge of it can hardly fail to exert a most salutary, elevating, and ennobling influence on the mind of its possessor. the field of human happiness, then, with the virtuous, seems to enlarge in proportion as a knowledge of the works and laws of the beneficent creator is extended. there is little ground for doubt as to what is god's will in relation to the universal education of the family of man, when he has connected with the exercise of mind in the study of his works superior enjoyments and heavenly aspirations. the various propositions stated and elucidated in this chapter, we think, are as fully established as any moral truths need be, and, we doubt not, they commend themselves to the judgment and conscience of all who have carefully perused the preceding pages, if, indeed, they had not been duly considered and adopted before. if, then, a system of universal education, judiciously administered, would dissipate the evils of ignorance, which are legion; if it would greatly increase the productiveness of labor; if it would diminish--not to say exterminate--pauperism and crime; if it would prevent the great majority of fatal accidents that are constantly occurring in every community; if it would save the lives of a hundred thousand children in the united states every year, and as many more puny survivors from dragging out a miserable existence in consequence of being the offspring of ignorant or vicious parents; if it would prevent so much of idiocy, and would humanize those who are born _idiots only_, but have hitherto been permitted, nay, doomed to _die_ brutes; if it would prevent so much insanity, and would save to society and their family and friends, "clothed and in their right mind," multitudes of every generation who now dwell in mental darkness and gloom; if it would increase the sum total of human happiness in proportion to its excellence, and the number of persons who are brought under its benign influence and uplifting power; if it would do all this--and that this is its legitimate tendency there can be no doubt--it would seem that no enlightened community could be found in any country, and especially that there can be no state in this union, that would not at once resolve upon maintaining a system of universal education by opening the doors of _improved free schools_ to all her sons and daughters, and, if need be, employing agents, vigilant and active, "to go out into the highways and hedges, and compel them to come in." if this is not done, thousands and tens of thousands of every generation will continue to lead cheerless lives, and will go down to their graves like the brute that perisheth, without knowing that he who gave to man life has also, in his goodness, which knows no bounds, provided that in the proper exercise of his faculties man shall find an inexhaustible source of happiness.[ ] [ ] in the annual report of the trustees of the new england institution for the education of the blind for the year , this beautiful passage occurs: "the expression of one of the pupils, '_that she had never known, before she began to learn, that it was a happiness to be alive_,' may be applied to many." chapter ix. political necessity of national education. in proportion as the structure of a government gives force to public opinion, it is essential that public opinion should be enlightened.--washington. i do not hesitate to affirm not only that a knowledge of the true principles of government is important and useful to americans, but that it is absolutely indispensable to carry on the government of their choice, and to transmit it to their posterity.--judge story. every succeeding section of the last chapter went to show more and more clearly that, in proportion as the benign influences of a correct education are diffused among and enjoyed by the members of any community, will existing evils of every kind be diminished, and blessings be increased in number and degree. the subject of popular education, then, claims, and should receive, the sympathy and active support of every philanthropist and christian, without regard to country or clime. we come now to consider a topic in which every patriot, and especially every true american, as such, must feel a lively interest. every citizen of our wide-spread country should be fully persuaded that the education of the people is the only permanent basis of national _prosperity_ not only, but of national safety. this, in theory, is now conceded, and the importance of education is very generally admitted among men, especially in our own country. it is evident, however, that the conviction of its importance is not so deeply inwrought into the mind of society as it ought to be, for it does not manifest itself with all the power of earnest feeling in behalf of education which the subject, in view of its acknowledged weightiness, justly demands. the objects and advantages of education heretofore considered apply equally to men of every nation and clime, under whatever form of government they may chance to dwell. it is otherwise in regard to the political necessity of popular education. here a particular training is required to fit men for the government under which they are to live. in despotic governments, the object of popular education is to make good _subjects_, while upon us devolves the higher responsibility of so educating the people that they may become not only good _subjects_, but good sovereigns--all power originating in and returning to the _sovereign people_. only seventy-four years ago, our fathers of the ever-memorable revolution pledged "fortune, life, and sacred honor" to establish the independence of these united states. under the fostering care of republican institutions, the tide of population rolled rapidly inland, crossing the alleganies, sweeping over the vast valley of the mississippi, nor resting in its onward course until it settled on the waters of the columbia and the shores of the pacific. previous to the revolutionary war, the english settlements were confined to the atlantic coast; now the tide of immigration seems to be to the shores of the pacific, where states are multiplying and cities springing up as by magic. in a little more than half a century, the states of the union have increased in number from thirteen to thirty, and in population in a ratio hitherto unprecedented, from three millions to twenty-five millions of souls. we stand in the same relation to posterity that our ancestors do to us. each generation has duties of its own to perform; and our duties, though widely different from those of our forefathers, are not less important in their character or less binding in their obligations. it was their duty to found or establish our institutions, and nobly did they perform it. it is our especial and appropriate duty to perfect and perpetuate the institutions we have received at their hands. the boon they would bequeath to the latest posterity can never reach and bless them except through our instrumentality. upon each present generation rest the duty and the obligation of educating and qualifying for usefulness that which immediately succeeds, upon which, in turn, will devolve a like responsibility. each succeeding generation will, in the main, be what the preceding has made it. from this responsible agency there is, there can be, no escape. trusts, responsibilities, and interests, vaster in amount and more sacred in character than have ever, in the providence of god, been committed to any people, are now intrusted to us. the great experiment of the capacity of man for self-government is being tried anew--an experiment which, wherever it has been tried, has failed, through an incapacity in the people to enjoy liberty without abusing it. we are, i doubt not, now educating the very generation during whose lifetime this great question will be decided. the present generation will, to a great extent, be responsible for the result, whatever it may be. we are, therefore, called upon, as american citizens and christian philanthropists, to do all that in us lies to secure to this experiment a successful issue; to make _this_ the leading nation of the earth, and a model worthy of imitation by all others. never before this has a nation been planted with so hopeful an opportunity for becoming the universal benefactor of the race. if for the next fifty years the population of these american states shall continue to increase as during the last fifty, we shall exceed a hundred millions; and in a century, allowing the same ratio of increase, the population will equal that of the old world. here, then, is a continent to be filled with innumerable millions of human beings, who may be happy through our wisdom, but who must be miserable through our folly. we may disregard such considerations, but we can not escape the tremendous responsibilities rolling in upon us in view of the relations we sustain to the past and the future. we delight to honor, in _words_, those heroes and martyrs from whom we have received the rich boon of civil and religious liberty. let us then, in _deeds_, imitate the examples we profess to admire, and contribute our full quota, as individuals and as a generation, toward perfecting and perpetuating the institutions we have received, that they may be enjoyed by those countless millions who are to succeed us in this broad empire. "in this exigency," to adopt the language of an enlightened practical educator and eminent statesman, "we need far more of wisdom and rectitude than we possess. preparations for our present condition have been so long neglected, that we now have a double duty to perform. we have not only to propitiate to our aid a host of good spirits, but we have to exorcise a host of evil ones. every aspect of our affairs, public and private, demonstrates that we need, for their successful management, a vast accession to the common stock of intelligence and virtue. but intelligence and virtue are the product of cultivation and training. they do not spring up spontaneously. we need, therefore, unexampled alacrity and energy in the application of all those influences and means which promise the surest and readiest returns of wisdom and probity, both public and private. "when the declaration of independence was carried into effect, and the constitution of the united states was adopted, the civil and political relations of the generation then living, and of all succeeding ones, were changed. men were no longer the same men, but were clothed with new rights and responsibilities. up to that period, so far as government was concerned, they might have been ignorant; indeed, it has generally been held that where a man's only duty is obedience, it is better that he should be ignorant; for why should a beast of burden be endowed with the sensibilities of a man! up to that period, so far as government was concerned, a man might have been unprincipled and flagitious. he had no access to the statute-book to alter or repeal its provisions, so as to screen his own violations of the moral law from punishment, or to legalize the impoverishment and ruin of his fellow-beings. but with the new institutions, there came new relations, and an immense accession of powers. new trusts of inappreciable value were devolved upon the old agents and upon their successors, irrevocably. "with the change in the organic structure of our government, there should have been corresponding changes in all public measures and institutions. for every dollar given by the wealthy or by the state to colleges to cultivate the higher branches of knowledge, a hundred should have been given for primary education. for every acre of land bestowed upon an academy, a province should have been granted to common schools. select schools for select children should have been discarded, and _universal education_ should have joined hands with _universal suffrage_."[ ] [ ] from "an oration delivered before the authorities of the city of boston, july th, , by horace mann, secretary of the massachusetts board of education." in the simplest form of civil government, there must exist a legislative, a judicial, and an executive department. but no expression of the national will in a system of laws can be sufficiently definite to supersede the necessity of a perpetual succession of legislatures to supply defects, and to meet emergencies as they arise. however well-informed men may be, and however pure the motives by which they are actuated, all experience hath shown that subjects will come up for consideration that will strike different minds in a variety of forms. this, in a popular government, gives rise to opposing parties. every man, then, in casting his vote for members of the legislature, needs to understand what important questions will be likely to come before that branch of the government for settlement, to have examined them in their various bearings, and to have deliberately made up his opinion in relation to the interests involved, in order to vote understandingly; otherwise he will be as likely to oppose as to promote, not only the welfare of the state, but his own most cherished interests. the same remark that has been made in relation to the legislative department will apply to both the judicial and executive, and to the general government as well as to the several state governments. when the appointed day arrives for deciding the various questions of state and national policy which divide men into opposing parties, there can be no delay. these various and conflicting questions must be decided, whether much or little preparation has been made, or none at all. and, what is most extraordinary, each voter helps to decide every question which agitates the community as much by not voting as by voting. if the question is so vast or so complicated that any one has not time to examine and make up his mind in relation to it, or if any one is too conscientious to act from conjecture in cases of magnitude, and therefore stays from the polls, another, who has no scruples about acting ignorantly, or from caprice, or malevolence, votes, and, in the absence of the former, decides the question against the right. however simple our government may be in theory, it has proved, in practice, the most complex government on earth. more questions for legislative interposition, and for judicial exposition and construction, have already arisen under it, ten to one, than have arisen during the same length of time under any other form of government in christendom. we are a union of thirty states; a great nation composed of thirty separate nations; and even beyond these, the confederacy is responsible for the fate of vast territories, with their increasing population, and of numerous indian tribes. among the component states, there is the greatest variety of customs, institutions, and religions. then we have the deeper inbred differences of language and ancestry among us, our population being made up of the lineage of all nations. our industrial pursuits, also, are various; and, with a great natural diversity of soil and climate, they must always continue to be so. moreover, across the very center of our territory a line is drawn, on one side of which all labor is voluntary, while on the opposite side a system of involuntary servitude prevails. if, then, general intelligence and popular virtue are necessary for the successful administration of even the simplest forms of government, and if these qualities are required in a higher and still higher degree in proportion to the complexity of a government, then are both intelligence and virtue necessary in this government to an extent indefinitely beyond what has ever been required in any other. and especially is this true when we consider that our government is representative as it regards the people, and federative as it regards the states; and that, in this respect, it has no precedent on the file of nations. we hence require a double portion of general intelligence and practical wisdom. but men are not born in the possession of these requisites to self-government, neither are they necessarily developed in the growth from infancy to manhood. they are the product of cultivation and training, and can be secured only through good schools opened to and enjoyed by all our youth. the stability of this government requires that universal education should precede universal suffrage. under a free government, the intelligence of the people, coupled with their virtue, will be found to be a sure index to a nation's prosperity, and to the individual and social well-being of all who enjoy its protection. god is a being of infinite wisdom and goodness, and no part of his government can be successfully administered except upon the principles of knowledge and virtue. the success that attends a nation of freemen will depend upon the extent to which these are cultivated, and the universality of their dissemination in the body politic. while the cultivation of these will increase the safety of the government, their neglect will hasten its downfall. judge story, in a lecture upon the importance of the science of government as a branch of popular education, has well remarked, that "it is not to rulers and statesman alone that the science of government is important and useful. it is equally indispensable for every american citizen, to enable him to exercise his own rights, to protect his own interests, and to secure the public liberties and the just operations of public authority. a republic, by the very constitution of its government, requires, on the part of the people, more vigilance and constant exertion than any other form of government. the american republic, above all others, demands from every citizen unceasing vigilance and exertion, since we have deliberately dispensed with every guard against danger or ruin except the intelligence and virtue of the people themselves. it is founded on the basis that the people have wisdom enough to frame their own system of government, and public spirit enough to preserve it; that they can not be cheated out of their liberties, and they will not submit to have them taken from them by force. we have silently assumed the fundamental truth that, as it never can be the interest of the majority of the people to prostrate their own political equality and happiness, so they never can be seduced by flattery or corruption, by the intrigues of faction or the arts of ambition, to adopt any measures which shall subvert them. _if this confidence in ourselves is justified_--and who among americans does not feel a pride in endeavoring to maintain it?--_let us never forget that it can be justified only by a watchfulness and zeal in proportion to our confidence_. let us never forget that we must prove ourselves wiser, better, and purer than any other nation ever has yet been, if we are to count upon success. every other republic has fallen by the discords and treachery of its own citizens. it has been said by one of our own departed statesmen, himself a devout admirer of popular government, that power is perpetually stealing from the many to the few." the institutions of a republic are endangered by the ignorance of the masses on the one hand, and by intelligent, but unprincipled and vicious aspirants to office and places of emolument on the other. where these two classes coexist to any considerable extent, the safety of the republic is jeoparded; for they have a strong sympathy with each other, and it is the constant policy of the latter to increase the number of the former. they arouse their passions and stimulate their appetites, and then lead them in a way they know not. a barrel of whisky, or even of hard cider, with a "hurrah!" will control ten to one more of this class of voters than will the soundest arguments of enlightened and honorable statesmen. and yet one of these votes thus procured, when deposited in the ballot-box, counts the same as the vote of a washington or a franklin! there is one remedy, and but one, for this alarming state of things, which prevails to a less or greater extent in almost every community. that remedy is simple. it consists in the establishment of schools for the education of the whole people. these schools, however, should be of a more perfect character than the majority of those which have hitherto existed. in them the principles of morality should be copiously intermingled with the principles of science. cases of conscience should alternate with lessons in the rudiments. the rule requiring us to do to others as we would that they should do unto us, should be made as familiar as the multiplication table, and our youth should become as familiar with the practical application of the one as of the other. the lives of great and good men should be held up for admiration and example, and especially the life and character of jesus christ, as the sublimest pattern of benevolence, of purity, and of self-sacrifice ever exhibited to mortals. in every course of studies, all the practical and preceptive parts of the gospel should be sacredly inculcated, and all dogmatical theology and sectarianism sacredly excluded. in no school should the bible be opened to reveal the sword of the polemic, but to unloose the dove of peace. in connection with the preceding, and in addition to the branches now commonly taught in our schools, the study of _politics_, which has been beautifully defined as _the art of making a people happy_, should be generally introduced. "i am not aware," says an eminent jurist,[ ] "that there are any solid objections which can be urged against introducing the science of government into our common schools as a branch of popular education. if it should be said that it will have a tendency to introduce party creeds and party dogmas into our schools, the true answer is, that the principles of government should be there taught, and not the creeds or dogmas of any party. the principles of the constitution under which we live; the principles upon which republics generally are founded, by which they are sustained, and through which they must be saved; the principles of public policy, by which national prosperity is secured, and national ruin averted--these certainly are not party creeds or party dogmas, but are fit to be taught at all times and on all occasions, if any thing which belongs to human life and our own condition is fit to be taught. if we wait until we can guard ourselves against every possible chance of abuse before we introduce any system of instruction, we shall wait until the current of time has flowed into the ocean of eternity. there is nothing which ever has been or ever can be taught without some chance of abuse; nay, without some absolute abuse. even religion itself, our truest and our only lasting hope and consolation, has not escaped the common infirmity of our nature. if it never had been taught until it could be taught with the purity, simplicity, and energy of the apostolic age, we ourselves, instead of being blessed with the bright and balmy influences of christianity, should now have been groping our way in the darkness of heathenism, or left to perish in the cold and cheerless labyrinths of skepticism." [ ] joseph story, before the american institute of instruction. lord brougham, one of the most powerful advocates of popular education in our day, has made the following remarks, which can not be more fitly addressed to any people than to the citizens of the american states. "a sound system of government," says this transatlantic writer, "requires the people to read and inform themselves upon political subjects; else they are the prey of every quack, every impostor, and every agitator who may practice his trade in the country. if they do not read; if they do not learn; if they do not digest by discussion and reflection what they have read and learned; if they do not qualify themselves to form opinions for themselves, other men will form opinions for them, not according to the truth and the interests of the people, but according to their own individual and selfish interest, which may, and most probably will, be contrary to that of the people at large." two very important inquiries here naturally suggest themselves to us: they are, first, whether there is at present in this country a degree of intelligence sufficient for the wise administration of its affairs; and secondly, whether existing provisions for the education of our country's youth are adequate to the wants of a great and free people, who are endeavoring to demonstrate to the world that great problem of nations--the capability of man for self-government. we judge of the literary attainments of the citizens of a state or of a nation, _as a whole_, by comparing all the individual members thereof with a given standard, and of their arrangements for educating the rising generation by the character of their schools, and the proportion of the population that receive instruction in them. let us test the existing standard of education in various states of this union in both of these respects. degree of popular intelligence.--according to the census of ,[ ] the total population of the united states was, in round numbers, seventeen millions. of this number, five hundred and fifty thousand were whites over twenty years of age, who could not read and write. the proportion varies in different states, from one in five hundred and eighty-nine in connecticut, to one in eleven in north carolina. [ ] the census for is now being taken. whether its results will tell more favorably upon the general interests of education in the united states than those of the last census, remains to be seen. some of the states during the last ten years have done nobly; others have evidently retrograded. we have also a tide of foreign immigration pouring in upon us hitherto unprecedented, averaging a thousand a day for the past year, all of whom need to be americanized. if we exclude, in the estimate, all colored persons, and whites under twenty years of age, the proportion will stand thus: in the united states, one to every twelve is unable to read and write. the proportion varies in the different states, from one in two hundred and ninety-four in connecticut, which stands the highest, to one in three in north carolina, which stands the lowest. in tennessee the proportion is one in four. in kentucky, virginia, georgia, south carolina, and arkansas, each, one in five. in delaware and alabama, each, one in six. in indiana, one in seven. in illinois and wisconsin, each, one in eight. on the brighter end of the scale, next to connecticut, in which the proportion is one in two hundred and ninety-four, is new hampshire, in which the proportion is one in one hundred and fifty-nine. in massachusetts it is one in ninety. in maine, one in seventy-two. in vermont, one in sixty-three. next in order comes michigan, in which the proportion is one in thirty-nine.[ ] [ ] according to the last census, there were twenty states below michigan, and only five above her. but even this estimate, favorable as it is in the scale of states, does not allow michigan an opportunity to appear in her true light, for it is well known that a great proportion of the illiterate population of this state is confined to a few counties. in mackinaw and chippewa counties there is one white person over twenty years of age to every five of the entire population that is unable to read and write. in ottawa, one in fourteen; in cass, one in twenty-two; in wayne and saginaw, each, one in thirty-six. on the other hand, there were eight organized counties in the state in which, according to the census referred to, there was not a single white inhabitant over twenty years of age that was unable to read and write. it is an interesting fact, at least to persons residing in the northwest, that in ohio also (on the western reserve) there were seven such counties, making fifteen in these two states, while in all new england there were but two--franklin in massachusetts, and essex in vermont. but these statements in relation to the number of persons in the united states who are unable to read and write, although they give the fearful aggregate of _five hundred and fifty thousand_ over twenty years of age who are destitute of these qualifications, it is believed, fail to discover much of gross ignorance that is cherished in various portions of the country; for there is no state in the union, nor any section of a single state, where men do not wish to be accounted able to read and write. the deputy marshals who took the census received their compensation by the head, and not by the day, for the work done. they therefore traveled from house to house, making the shortest practicable stay at each. more was required of them than could be thoroughly and accurately performed in the time allowed. their informants were subjected to no test. in the absence of the heads of families, whose information would have been more reliable, the bare word of persons over sixteen years of age was accredited. it is, moreover, well known, that no inconsiderable number of persons gave false information when inquired of by the deputies. from these and other reasons, it is believed that numerous and important errors exist in the census; and this opinion is corroborated by a mass of unquestionable testimony, of which i will introduce a specimen. the annual message of governor campbell, of virginia, to the legislature of that state, the year immediately preceding that in which the census was taken, clearly shows that the capacity to read and write in persons over twenty years of age was greatly over-estimated in that state. governor campbell, after stating that the importance of an efficient system of education, embracing in its comprehensive and benevolent design the whole people, can not be too frequently recurred to, goes on to remark as follows: "the statements furnished by the clerks of five city and borough courts, and ninety-three of the county courts, in reply to the inquiries addressed to them, ascertain that, of all those who applied for marriage licenses, a large number were unable to write their names. the years selected for this inquiry were those of = =, = =, and = =. the statements show that the applicants for marriage licenses for = = amounted to = =, of whom = = were unable to write; = = in = =, of whom the number unable to write was = =; and in = = the applicants were = =, and of these the number of = = were unable to write their names. from which it appears there still exists a deplorable extent of ignorance, and that, in truth, it is hardly less than it was twenty years ago, when the school fund was created. the statements, it will be remembered, are partial, not embracing quite all the counties, and are, moreover, confined to one sex. the education of females, it is to be feared, is in a condition of much greater neglect. "there are now in the state two hundred thousand children between the ages of five and fifteen. forty thousand of them are reported to be poor children, and of them only one half to be attending schools. it may be safely assumed that, of those possessing property adequate to the expenses of a plain education, a large number are growing up in ignorance, for want of schools within convenient distances. of those at school, many derive little or no instruction, owing to the incapacity of the teachers, as well as to their culpable negligence and inattention. thus the number likely to remain uneducated, and to grow up without just perceptions of their duties, religious, social, and political, is really of appalling magnitude, and such as to appeal with affecting earnestness to a parental legislature." if there shall appear any want of agreement between these statements and the returns made by the deputy marshals, no one need be in doubt in relation to which has the strongest claims for credence. these statements were communicated by the governor of a proud state to the legislature in his annual message. unlike the statistics collected by the marshals, each case was subjected to an infallible test; for no man who could make a scrawl in the similitude of his name would submit to the mortification of making his mark, and leaving it on record in a written application for a marriage license. the requisition was made upon the officers of the courts, and the evidence, which was of a documentary or judicial character, is the highest known to the law. the result was, that almost one fourth of all the men applying for marriage licenses--more than thirty-three hundred in three years--were unable to write their names! and governor campbell clearly intimates an opinion that "the education of females is in a condition of much greater neglect!" in round numbers, the free white population of virginia over twenty years of age is three hundred and thirty thousand. one fourth of this number is eighty-two and a half thousand, which, according to the evidence presented by governor campbell, is the lowest possible limit at which the minimum of adults unable to read and write can be stated. but the census number is less than fifty-nine thousand, making a difference of nearly twenty-four thousand, or more than forty per cent. there are several states of about the same rank as virginia in the educational scale. kentucky, tennessee, and north carolina sink even below her. the last-named state, with a free white population over twenty years of age of less than , , has the appalling number, even according to the census, of , who are unable to read and write. in other words, forty-two hundred more than one fourth of the whole free population over twenty years of age are, in the educational scale, absolutely _below zero_. now if to the five hundred and fifty thousand free white population in the united states over the age of twenty years who are unable to read and write, as shown by the census, we add forty per cent. for its under-estimates, as facts require us to do in the case of virginia, it would increase the total to seven hundred and seventy thousand. suppose one fourth of these only are voters--that is, deduct one half for females, and allow that one half of the male moiety is made up of persons either between twenty and twenty-one years of age, or of those who are unnaturalized, which is a most liberal allowance when we consider where the great mass of ignorance belongs, and that the number of ignorant immigrants is much less at the south than at the north--and we have = , = voters in the united states who are unable to read and write. now, at the presidential election for the same year that the census was taken, when, to use the graphic language of another, "every voter not absolutely in his winding sheet was carried to the polls, when the harvest field was so thoroughly swept that neither stubble nor tares were left for the gleaner," the majority for the successful candidate was = , =, more than = , = less than the estimated number of legal voters at that time in the united states unable to read and write. at this election a larger majority of the electoral votes was given for the successful candidate than was ever given to any other president of the united states, with the exception of mr. monroe in = =, against whom there was but one vote. general harrison's popular majority, also, was undoubtedly the largest by which any president of the united states has ever been elected, with the exception above mentioned of mr. monroe, and perhaps that of general washington at his second election. and yet this majority, large as it was, was more than , less than the estimated number of our legal voters who, in the educational scale, are absolutely below zero. and then it should be borne in mind that hundreds of thousands who are barely able to read and write may never have acquired "a knowledge of the true principles of government," which, in the language of judge story, at the head of this chapter, "is not only important and useful to americans, but is absolutely indispensable to carry on the government of their choice, and to transmit it to posterity." it should also be borne in mind that popular virtue is not less essential to the stability of a free government than is general intelligence. nay, more; if the liberties of this republic are more endangered by any one class of people than by all others, that class consists of intelligent but unprincipled political aspirants. the connection between ignorance and vice has already been referred to, and is well known among intelligent men; but by none so well, it may be, as by the unprincipled aspirant, who, by pandering to the vicious appetites of the ignorant and the vile, and then by base flattery pronouncing them "highly intelligent, enlightened, and civilized," take advantage of their very want of qualification "to manufacture political capital." these are they to whom lord brougham refers when he says, "other men will form opinions for them, not according to truth and the interests of the people, but according to their own individual and selfish interest, which may, and most probably will, be contrary to that of the people at large." we can not, then, avoid coming to the unwelcome and dread conclusion that there is not at present in this country a sufficient degree of intelligence and virtue for the wise, or even the safe administration of its affairs. it remains to consider whether existing provisions for the education of our country's youth are adequate to the wants of the american people. existing provisions for education.--of the seventeen millions of persons in the united states, according to the last census, = , , =--one in five of the entire population--were free white children between the ages of five and fifteen years. this is the lowest estimate i have ever known made of the ages between which children should regularly attend school. the ages usually stated between which children generally should attend school at least ten months during the year, are from four to sixteen, or from four to eighteen years, and sometimes from four to twenty or twenty-one years. but what is the actual attendance upon the primary and common schools of the country? it is only = , , =, or, to vary the expression and give it more definiteness, the total number of children in attendance upon all our schools, any part of the year, is twenty thousand less than one half of the free-born white children in the united states between the ages of five and fifteen years! and then it should be borne in mind that the same general motives which would lead to an under-statement in regard to the number of persons unable to read and write, would lead to an over-statement in regard to the number of those attending school. the educational statistics of some of the states, made out by competent and faithful school officers, show that the whole number of scholars that attended school any part of the time during the school year - --the year the census was taken--was several thousand less than the number according to the census.[ ] [ ] in massachusetts, according to a statement made by the secretary of the board of education, the whole number of scholars who were in all the public schools any part of the school year - was but , , and the average attendance was, in the winter, , , and in the summer, , ; while the number given in the census is , , which is greater by than the entire number that attended school _any part of the year_, according to the returns, and , more than the average attendance for half of the year. if we were to embrace in the estimate the whole number of students in attendance at the universities, colleges, academies, and seminaries of learning of every grade, it would not materially vary the result, for all these taken together are less than one tenth part of the number in attendance upon the common schools. that the number of children attending schools of any grade is less than might be inferred from the foregoing statements, will be apparent when we consider the following facts. in the united states, taken together as a whole, only one person in ten of the population attends any school whatever any part of the year. now it is well known that a large number of children under five years of age attend school in many parts of the country, and a much greater number that are over fifteen years of age. i have already said that the entire number of children in attendance upon all our schools is twenty thousand less than one half of the entire number of free-born white children in the united states between the ages of five and fifteen years. this leaves two millions of children uninstructed. we shall have a more just view of the scantiness of our provisions for adequate national education if to this number, appalling as it is, we add the total number of those attending under five and over fifteen in various portions of the country. again: no one supposes that in any part of the union adequate provisions are made for the education of the rising generation, even in a single state. but in the new england states, and in new york and michigan, one fourth part of the entire population attend school some part of the year. this is twice and a half the general average throughout the union, and more than five times the average attendance in the majority of the remaining states. in round numbers, the proportion of the entire population that attend school in the different states of the union is, according to the census, in maine, new hampshire, and vermont, each, one in three. in michigan,[ ] massachusetts, connecticut, and new york, the proportion is one in four. in rhode island, it is one in five. in ohio and new jersey, each, one in six. in pennsylvania, one in eight. in no other state is the proportion more than one in ten, while in ten states it is less than one in twenty-five. [ ] in determining the proportion for this state, the census for and the school returns for that year were the data used. in the other states i have been obliged to use the census returns of . in fixing this proportion, the nearest whole number has been used. in no state is the proportion in attendance upon the schools as high as one in three. michigan heads the states in which the proportion is one in four. in this state the proportion is somewhat greater than one in four; it is, however, nearer this than one in three. in the other states the proportion is less than one in four. the states are all arranged according to the size of the fraction, there being less difference in the attendance in vermont and michigan than in the latter state and new york. at the time the last census was taken, michigan had recently been admitted into the union, and the state government being but just organized, the school system had only gone partially into operation. according to the census of = =, the proportion in attendance upon the schools of this state was only one in seven. during the interval from = = to = =, at which time the census of this state was again taken, the population had increased from two hundred and twelve thousand to upward of three hundred thousand, showing an increase of about fifty per cent.; the number of primary schools had increased from less than ten thousand to more than twenty thousand, making an increase of more than one hundred per cent.; and the attendance upon these schools had advanced from thirty thousand to seventy-six thousand, giving the very remarkable increase of one hundred and fifty per cent. in five years, when, as already stated, the proportion in attendance upon the common schools was more than one in four of the entire population. and during the next two years the number of children in attendance upon the schools increased from seventy-six thousand to one hundred and eight thousand, showing an advance of more than forty per cent. from to . it is gratifying to know that this important interest, which underlies all others, is receiving increased attention in various portions of the united states. among the most striking illustrations that i have noticed of these indications of national improvement, i will instance two.[ ] the following interesting items of fact are gleaned from an address by the superintendent before the public schools of new orleans, february d, --a most befitting day for a school celebration. these statistics strike us more forcibly when we consider that they relate to the metropolis of the south, and to the capital of a state in which, according to the last census, only one person in one hundred received instruction in the primary and common schools of the state. the public schools of the second municipality of new orleans were established in , comprising at that time less than three hundred pupils. now the constant attendance is upward of three thousand--ten times what it was eight years ago. but even this increase, large as it may seem, is not sufficient to constitute the proportion in attendance upon the schools of the state even one in fifty of the entire population. [ ] my information is derived from the "southern journal of education" for may, --a monthly for the promotion of popular intelligence, published from knoxville, tenn.--samuel a. jewett, editor and publisher. this journal is ably conducted, and has now reached its third volume. this certainly is a very encouraging omen, especially when we consider that it has so long survived in a state where, according to the last census, only one in thirty-three of the entire population attended school. may it long continue to do good service in this important cause. kentucky furnishes the other indication of improvement which i propose to notice. in this state, according to the last census, only one in thirty-three of the entire population attended the common schools during any part of the year. the number of children at the present time in that commonwealth, as reported by the second auditor, between the ages of five and sixteen, leaving out the colored children, is one hundred and ninety-three thousand. the number provided with schools, as reported in , was twenty-one thousand; in , thirty-three thousand; and in , eighty-seven thousand; showing a clear advance in two years of sixty-six thousand.[ ] but, with all this improvement, one hundred and five thousand children do not derive any personal benefit from the public school system. in other words, eighteen thousand more children in this state are still growing up without instruction than as yet attend the schools. and the utter inadequacy of the common school privileges of even these will be apparent when it is understood that in the great majority of the districts more than nine tenths of the schools are taught but three months during the year. [ ] this improvement well illustrates the advantages resulting to the state from the able and faithful supervision of her public schools. a correspondent of the baltimore american speaks of the annual report of dr. robert breckenridge, superintendent of public instruction, to the general assembly of kentucky, as follows: "it is the most important document which has been submitted to that body during the present session, and reflects great credit upon the energy, fidelity, and comprehensive aims of the superintendent in the discharge of his high duties. it is now but two years since dr. breckenridge was appointed to the office, and the great service he has rendered to the cause of popular education in the state is strikingly exhibited in the contrast between the present condition of the common schools, and that in which he found them when he received his appointment from the board of education." we have as yet only considered the great destitution of schools of _any kind_, in which the moiety of the children that attend school at all receive instruction, and the fact that very many of these are kept open but three months during the year.[ ] the inadequacy of existing provisions for the proper education of the rising generation will be more strikingly apparent when we consider the incompetency of, i may perhaps safely say, the majority of persons who are put in charge of the public schools of the country. it is readily conceded that, in those states where education has received most attention, there are many teachers who are thoroughly furnished unto all good works. but it is far otherwise with the majority of teachers even in the more favored states. the testimony of governor campbell already quoted, will apply to the teachers of many other states. after speaking of the large number of children in virginia that "are growing up in ignorance for want of schools within convenient distances," he remarks, that "of those at school, many derive little or no instruction, owing to the incapacity of the teachers, as well as to their culpable negligence and inattention." [ ] even in massachusetts the average length of time the schools of the state continue is less than eight months, and the average continuance in several of the counties is only five months. the average attendance upon the schools for the time they are kept open is sixty-two per cent. of the number between the ages of four and sixteen years; but in some instances only twenty-six per cent. of the children in a town--about one fourth of the number within the school ages--attend school. president caldwell, of the university of north carolina, in a series of letters on popular education, addressed to the people of that state a few years ago, proposes a plan for the improvement of common education. the first and greatest existing evil which he specifies is the want of qualified teachers. any one who "knows how to read, and write, and cipher," it is said, is regarded as fit to be a "schoolmaster." "is a man," remarks president caldwell, "constitutionally and habitually indolent, a burden upon all from whom he can extract a support? then there is one way of shaking him off; let us make him a schoolmaster! to teach a school is, in the opinion of many, little else than sitting still and doing nothing. has any man wasted all his property, or ended in debt by indiscretion and misconduct? the business of school-keeping stands wide open for his reception; and here he sinks to the bottom, for want of capacity to support himself. has any one ruined himself, and done all he could to corrupt others by dissipation, drinking, seduction, and a course of irregularities? nay, has he returned from a prison, after an ignominious atonement for some violation of the laws? he is destitute of character, and can not be _trusted_; but presently he opens a school, and the children are seen flocking to it; for, if he is _willing_ to act in that capacity--we shall all admit that he can read, write, and cipher to the square root--he will make an excellent schoolmaster. in short, it is no matter what the man is, or what his manners or principles; if he has escaped with his life from the penal code, we have the satisfaction to think that he can still have credit as a schoolmaster." the georgia convention of teachers, in a published address, after speaking of the importance of giving a more extended education to our youth _as citizens_, and giving an outline of a liberal system of popular education, go on to remark as follows: "alas! how far should we be elevated above our present level if all of them were thus enlightened! but how many sons and daughters of free-born americans are unable to read their native language! how many go to the polls who are unable to read the very charter of their liberties! how many, by their votes, elect men to legislate upon their dearest interests, while they themselves are unable to read even the proceedings of those legislators whom they have empowered to act for them!" in accounting for this lamentable state of things, the committee of the convention say, "we seem to forget that first principles are, in education, all-important principles; that primary schools are the places where these principles are to be established, and where such direction will, in all probability, be given to the minds of our children as will decide their future character in life. hence the idle, and the profane, and the drunken, and the ignorant are employed to impart to our children the first elements of knowledge--are set before them as examples of what literature and science can accomplish! and hence the profession of schoolmaster, which should be the most honorable, is but too often a term of reproach." that other most unwelcome and dread conclusion, _that existing provisions for popular education in the united slates are inadequate to the requirements of a free people_, is, then, in view of all these facts, unavoidably forced upon us. in the name of christian philanthropy, in the name of patriotism, then, i inquire whether there is any ground for hope that our free institutions may be transmitted unimpaired to posterity. "with the heroes, and sages, and martyrs of the revolution," to adopt the language of another, "i believe in the capability of man for self-government, my whole soul thereto most joyously assenting. nay, if there be any heresy among men, or blasphemy against god, at which the philosopher might be allowed to forget his equanimity, and the christian his charity, it is the heresy and the blasphemy of believing and avowing that the infinitely good and all-wise author of the universe persists in creating and sustaining a race of beings who, by a law of their nature, are forever doomed to suffer all the atrocities and agonies of misgovernment, either from the hands of others or from their own. the doctrine of the inherent and necessary disability of mankind for self-government should be regarded not simply with denial, but with abhorrence; not with disproof only, but with execration. to sweep so foul a creed from the precincts of truth, and utterly to consume it, rhetoric should become a whirlwind, and logic fire. indeed, i have never known a man who desired the establishment of monarchical and aristocratical institutions among us, who had not a mental reservation that, in such case, he and his family should belong to the privileged orders. "still, if asked the broad question whether man is capable of self-government, i must answer it conditionally. if by man, in the inquiry, is meant the fejee islanders; or the convicts at botany bay; or the people of mexico and of some of the south american republics, so called; or those as a class, in our own country, who can neither read nor write; or those who can read and write, and who possess talents and an education by force of which they get treasury, or post-office, or bank appointments, and then abscond with all the money they can steal, i answer unhesitatingly that _man_, or rather _such men_, are not fit for self-government. "but if, on the other hand, the inquiry be whether mankind are not endowed with those germs of intelligence and those susceptibilities of goodness by which, under a perfectly practicable system of cultivation and training, they are able to avoid the evils of despotism and anarchy, and also of those frequent changes in national policy which are but one remove from anarchy, and to hold steadfastly on their way in an endless career of improvement, then, in the full rapture of that joy and triumph which springs from a belief in the goodness of god and the progressive happiness of man, i answer, they are able." * * * * * practicability of national education. the first duty of government, and the surest evidence of good government, is the encouragement of education. a general diffusion of knowledge is the precursor and protector of republican institutions; and in it we must confide, as the conservative power that will watch our liberties, and guard against fraud, intrigue, corruption, and violence.--de witt clinton's _message to the new york legislature_, . if good is to be done, we must bring our minds, as soon as possible, to the confession of the truth, that the education of the people, to be effectual, must here, as elsewhere, to a great extent, be the work of the state; and that an expense, of which all should feel the necessity, and all will share the benefit, must, in a just proportion, be borne by all.--john duer. the _desirableness_ of national or universal education is now generally admitted in all enlightened communities; but there are some who, honestly no doubt, question its _practicability_. if they provide for the education of their own children, they claim that they have done all that duty or interest requires them to do. they even aver that there is absolute injustice in compelling them to contribute toward the education of the children of others. now these very persons, when called upon annually by the tax-gatherer to contribute their proportion for the support of paupers--made so by idleness, intemperance, and other vices, which, as we have already seen, result from ignorance--do so cheerfully and ungrudgingly, and without complaining that they support themselves and their families, and that neither duty nor interest requires them to aid in the maintenance of indigent persons in the community. _the poor laws of our country_, in the case of adults who are unable to support themselves, require merely their maintenance. but with reference to their _children_, more, from the very nature of the case, is needed. their situation imperatively demands not only a sustenance, but an education that shall enable them in future years to provide for themselves. the same humane reasons which lead civilized communities to provide for the maintenance of indigent adults by legal enactments, bear even more strongly in the case of their children. these require sustenance in common with their parents. but their wants, their necessities, stop not here; neither does the well-being of society with reference to them. both alike require that such children, in common with all others, be so trained as to be enabled not only to provide for themselves when they arrive at mature years, but as shall be necessary to qualify them for the discharge of the duties of citizenship. then, instead of taxing society for a support, as their parents now do, they will contribute to the elevation of all around, even more largely than society has contributed to their elevation. let the necessary provision be made for the education of the children of the poor, in common with all others, and successive generations of the sons of men will steadily progress in knowledge and virtue, and in all that has a tendency to elevate and ennoble human kind. but let their education be neglected, and their rank in society will of necessity be lower, when compared with the better educated and more favored classes, than it would have been only two or three centuries ago, even since the invention of the art of printing in . the reasons are evident. until after the invention of printing and the multiplication of books, all ranks were, in relation to education, nearly upon a level. but, in the language of the adage, "knowledge is power;" and, since "knowledge has been increased," those who possess it are elevated, relatively and absolutely, while those who remain in the ignorance of former generations, although their absolute condition in the scale of being is unchanged, occupy, nevertheless, relatively, a lower place in society than they would have done had they lived in the midst of the dark ages. wherever improved free schools have been maintained, not only are the _children_ of the poor in attendance upon them elevated in the scale of intellectual, social, and moral being, but, through their irresistible influence, their degraded and besotted _parents_ have been reformed and become law-abiding subjects, when all other means had failed to reach and influence them. of the truth of this statement i am well persuaded from my own observation. i have also in my possession an abundance of unquestionable testimony to this effect, gathered in cities, towns, and villages which have become celebrated for the maintenance of a high order of public schools. the public, then, on many accounts, are more interested in the right education of poor children than in the preservation of their lives! the latter is carefully provided for. but if this only is done; if their bodies are fed and clothed, without providing for the sustenance of their minds; if we provide for their wants as helpless young animals merely, but neglect to provide for their necessities as spiritual and immortal beings, the probabilities are that such children will become a pest to society, while, in providing for their proper education, we are sure of making them good citizens, of constituting them a blessing to the world that now is, and of brightening their prospects for a blessed immortality in that which is to come. bishop butler, in a sermon preached in christ church, london, on charity schools, may th, , recognizes the principle that the property of the state should educate the children of the state. "formerly," says he, "not only the _education_ of poor children, but also their _maintenance_, with that of the other poor, were left to voluntary charities. but great changes of different sorts happening over the nation, and charity becoming more cold, or the poor more numerous, it was found necessary to make some legal provision for them. this might, much more properly than charity schools, be called a new scheme;[ ] for, without question, the education of poor children was all along taken care of by voluntary charities, more or less, but obliging us by law to maintain the poor was new in the reign of queen elizabeth. yet, because a change of circumstances made it necessary, its novelty was no reason against it. now, in that legal provision for the maintenance of the poor, poor children must doubtless have had a part in common with grown people. but this could never be sufficient for children, because their case always requires more than mere maintenance; it requires that they be educated in some proper manner. wherever there are poor who want to be maintained by charity, there must be poor children, who, besides this, want to be educated by charity; and whenever there began to be need of _legal_ provision for the _maintenance_ of the poor, there must immediately have been need also of some _particular_ legal provision in behalf of poor children for their _education_, this not being included in what we call their maintenance." [ ] bishop butler is here answering the objections of some "people who speak of charity schools as a new-invented scheme, and therefore to be looked upon with suspicion; whereas it is no otherwise new than as the occasion for it is so." not only is it the duty of society to provide _food_ for the _minds_ as well as sustenance for the bodies of poor children, but their pecuniary interests equally require it; for, as butler remarks, "if they are not trained up in the way they should go, they will certainly be trained up in the way they should not go, and in all probability will persevere in it, and become miserable themselves and mischievous to society, which, in event, is worse, upon account of both, than if they had been exposed to perish in their infancy." i have already shown, by unquestionable testimony, that persons who possess the greatest share in the stock of worldly goods are deeply interested in the subject of popular education, as one of _mere insurance_; "that the most effectual way of making insurance upon their property would be to contribute from it enough to sustain an efficient system of common school education, thereby educating the whole mass of mind, and constituting it a police more effective than peace officers or prisons." i might elucidate this subject by illustrations. it has been estimated that a quarter of a million of dollars has been expended in the county of philadelphia since for the suppression of riots occurring within its limits, and in damages occasioned by their outrages and violence, to say nothing of personal injuries and deaths arising from the same cause. now it will be readily conceded by most persons that half of this sum judiciously expended in organizing and supporting a sufficient police, and in giving the leaders and gangs engaged in those riots an early and suitable education, whereby they would have been taught to think, and feel, and act as rational, moral, and accountable beings, would have prevented the commission of such crimes, together with the sufferings and losses resulting therefrom, and the reproach thus brought upon public and individual character. again: the whole number of paupers relieved or supported by public charity in the single state of new york, in the year , according to an authentic statement now before me, was, in round numbers, one hundred thousand, and the entire expense of their support during the year was eight hundred and seven thousand dollars, a sum exceeding by three hundred and forty thousand dollars the amount paid on rate-bills for teacher's wages for educating the seven hundred thousand children of that great state! of fifty thousand of these paupers, the _causes_ of whose destitution have been ascertained, nearly _twenty thousand_ are attributable, directly or indirectly, to intemperance, profligacy, licentiousness, and crime! had even half the amount that is now expended from year to year in their support been judiciously bestowed upon their early mental and moral culture, who can question that, instead of now being a tax upon the communities in which they reside, and a burden to themselves and a grief to their friends, they would not only have provided for their own maintenance, but would have contributed their due proportion to increase the general prosperity of the state. great as is her poor-tax, new york contributes annually an immensely greater sum for the support of her criminal police; for the erection of court-houses, and jails, and penitentiaries, and houses of correction; for the arrest, trial, conviction, and punishment of criminals, and for their support in prison and at the various landing-places on their way to the gallows and to a premature and ignominious death. now, had one half of the money which this state has expended in these two ways been judiciously bestowed in the early education of these unfortunate persons, who can question that the poor and criminal taxes of that state would have been reduced to less than one tenth of what they now are, to say nothing of the fountains of tears that would be thus dried up, and of the untold happiness that would be enjoyed by persons who, in every generation, lead cheerless lives and die ignoble deaths. lest some persons may labor under an erroneous impression in relation to this subject, i will give the statistics of education and crime in new york, as derived from official reports, for the last few years. of persons--the whole number reported by the sheriffs of the different counties of the state as under conviction and punishment for crime during the year -- only had a common education, only had a tolerably good education, and only were _well_ educated. of the criminals so returned in the several counties of the state for the year , only had a common school education, only had a tolerably good education, and only were considered well educated! the returns for other years give like results. had the whole eleven or thirteen hundred of these convicts been _well educated_ instead of only _six_ or _ten_--and the moral and religious education of even these was defective--how many of them would society be called upon to support in prisons and penitentiaries? in all probability, as we shall hereafter, i hope, be able to show, not one. and what is true of the city and county of philadelphia and of the state of new york, will apply to other cities, counties, and states of this union. once more, and finally: education, as we have already seen, enables men to subdue their passions, and to improve themselves in the exercise of all the social virtues. especially have we seen that the educated portions of community, whose moral culture has been duly attended to, are _habitually temperate_, while the appetite of the uncultivated for intoxicating drinks is stronger, and their power of resistance less. cut off from the sources of enjoyment which are ever open to those whose minds and hearts are cultivated, no wonder they seek for happiness in the gratification of appetite! no wonder that forty thousand of the citizens of the united states annually die drunkards, when we consider that this is only one in twenty of the number who are unable to read and write! the hon. edward everett has expressed the opinion that the expenses of the manufacture and traffic of intoxicating drinks in the united states exceed annually _one hundred and fifty millions of dollars_. general cary, in alluding to this statement, says, "this, it is believed, is but an approximation to the cost of these trades to the people. this estimate does not include the money paid by consumers, which is worse than thrown away. an english writer, well versed in statistics, and having access to the most reliable sources of information, says that 'the strong drinks consumed in england alone cost nearly _four hundred millions of dollars annually_.' the expenditure for these sources of all evil in the united states must be equal, at least, to that of england."[ ] now _one half of this sum would maintain a system of common schools in every state of this union equal in expense and efficiency to that of massachusetts or new york_. [ ] see tract on "the liquor manufacture and traffic," prepared by request of the national division of the sons of temperance, by s. f. cary, most worthy patriarch. but i need not extend these observations. enough, i trust, has been said to show that every thing connected with the good of man and the welfare of the race depends upon the attention we bestow in perfecting our systems of public instruction and rendering their blessings universal. i will therefore close what i have to say upon this topic with a summary of the conclusions we have arrived at in the progress of the last two chapters. we have seen that a good system of common school education--one that is sufficiently comprehensive to embrace all our country's youth in its benevolent design--would free us as a people from a host of evils growing out of popular ignorance; that it would increase the productiveness of labor, as the schools advance in excellence, indefinitely; that it would save to society, in diminishing the number of paupers and criminals, a vast amount of means absorbed in the support of the former, and in bringing the latter to justice, a tax which upon every present generation is more than sufficient for the education of the next succeeding one; that it would prevent the great majority of fatal accidents that are now depopulating communities wherever ignorance prevails; that, by imparting a knowledge of the organic laws, the observance of which is essential to health and happiness, it would save the lives of a hundred thousand children in the united states every year, and that by promoting longevity, in connection with the advantages already enumerated, it would tend more than all other means of state policy to increase at once the wealth and the population of our country; that its legitimate tendency would be to diminish, from generation to generation, not only drunkenness and sensuality in all its protean forms, but idiocy and insanity, which result from a violation of the laws of our being, which are the laws of god; that it would, in innumerable ways, tend to diminish the sufferings and mitigate the woes incident to human life, while it would acquaint man with the will of the benevolent creator, and lead him to cherish an habitual desire to yield obedience thereto; and that it is the only possible means of perfecting and perpetuating the inestimable boon of civil and religious liberty to the latest generations, and thus securing to the race the maximum of human happiness. yes, a system of popular education adequate to the requirements of the states of this union will do all this. none, then, it would seem, can fail to see that true state policy requires the maintenance of improved free schools, good enough for the best, and cheap enough for the poorest, which are a necessary means of universal education. chapter x. the means of universal education. i would recommend that each state should raise a school fund sufficient for the entire support of the schools; that a suitable school-house and apparatus, with a convenient dwelling-house for the teacher, be furnished by the state for each district; and that every school-house be supplied with a well-qualified teacher, who shall receive from the state a suitable compensation.--john duer. let there be an educational department of the government, and let its details be managed by proper officers, accountable to the representatives of the people.--dr. hawks. we have already considered the nature of education, which has reference to the whole man and to the whole duration of his being. we have seen its importance to individuals and families, to neighborhoods and communities, to states and nations, and that in proportion as it receives attention in any community, will that community become prosperous and happy. we may then very properly inquire after the means to be put in requisition in order to render the blessings of education universal among us. to the consideration of this subject we shall devote the remainder of this work. my first remark is, that _a correct public opinion should be formed._ in the language of bishop potter, "our people have absolutely the control over the whole subject of education, not only as it respects their own families, but, to a great extent, in schools and seminaries of learning. if, then, the people were fully awake to its importance and true nature, we should soon have a perfect system, and we should witness results from it for which we now look in vain." the formation of a correct public opinion is of the utmost importance, for the primary cause of all the defects complained of in education, and the source of all the evils that afflict the community in consequence of its neglect, is _popular indifference_. from this we have more to fear than from all other causes combined. opposition elicits discussion; and discussion, judiciously conducted, evolves truth; and educational truths brought clearly before the mind of any community will ultimately induce right action. men may at first be influenced by a comparatively low class of motives, but one which they can appreciate. as they witness the beneficial effects of reform, their motives will gradually become more elevated, and their efforts at improvement more constant; but no important advance can be made without popular enlightenment. when the majority of the individuals that compose any community come to value education as they ought; when they duly estimate its importance in the various points of view already considered, then will their public servants take more pains to co-operate with them in rendering its blessings universal. good laws are important as a means of improving our systems of public instruction; but good laws, unsustained by a correct public opinion, will be of no avail. before any considerable advance can be made either in improving our schools or in causing the attendance upon them to become more general, a good common education--one that shall give us sound minds in sound bodies; one that bestows much attention upon intellectual culture, but more upon the culture of the heart--must come to be ranked among the _necessaries of life_. _conventions of the friends of education_ have already done much to correct popular errors in relation to this subject, and have contributed largely to the formation of sound and rational views in relation to its importance in the communities where they have been held. in many instances, however, they have been composed too exclusively of teachers. these should, indeed, be in attendance; but to increase the usefulness of such conventions, and heighten the effect they may be made to produce upon the popular mind, there should also be in attendance members of the several learned professions, statesmen, capitalists, and all the leading minds of the communities in which they are held. in some portions of the country this is now the case, but such instances, i regret to say, are not yet very common among us. _fourth of july common school celebrations_ have, within the past few years, become quite common in several states of the union. this seems peculiarly appropriate, being a practical recognition of the importance of primary schools and universal education in a civil and political point of view. one of the most befitting celebrations of this day which i have ever known was held in boston eight years ago, when an oration was delivered before the authorities of that city by the secretary of the massachusetts board of education. the theme of the orator was the importance of national or universal education in a free government as the interest which underlies all others, and as constituting the only means of perfecting and perpetuating to the latest generations the institutions we have received from our fathers, and "a demonstration that our existing means for the promotion of intelligence and virtue are wholly inadequate to the support of a republican government." such celebrations should be held in every state of this union, at every recurring anniversary of our national independence, until there can not be found a single individual in all our borders who does not know both his duties and his privileges as a freeman, and who has not virtue enough faithfully to perform the one and temperately to enjoy the other. this, indeed, seems to be in keeping with that most impressive passage of the celebrated ordinance of the american congress, adopted july th, , which says, "religion, morality, and knowledge being necessary to good government and the happiness of mankind, schools and the means of education shall forever be encouraged." _the twenty-second of february_ has also been observed, to some extent, in several of the states, by holding such celebrations. nothing can be more appropriate than these efforts to arouse the popular mind to renewed efforts to improve the common schools of the land, when we consider the import of that portion of the farewell address of him, the anniversary of whose birth we celebrate, which relates to popular education. "promote, as an object of primary importance, institutions for the general diffusion of knowledge." there can be no doubt that washington here refers to the maintenance and improvement of common schools as the means of universal education. the necessity of improving our common schools and of opening wide their doors to all our youth should not only be the theme at school celebrations, at educational conventions, and on the occasion of our national anniversaries, but it should be frequently presented by the civilian and the divine, as well as by the legislator and the journalist, until men generally well understand the importance of education, and are willing to make any sacrifices that may be necessary to secure its advantages to their own children not only, but to all our youth. provisions for the support of schools.--the provisions which have been made for the support of schools may be reduced to three kinds: first, by means of funds; second, by taxation; third, by a combination of both of these methods. connecticut, which has a school fund of more than two millions of dollars, long ago adopted the first plan named. but the inefficiency of her system of public instruction, until within a few years, is proverbial, and affords conclusive evidence that a large school fund is of little or no avail in the absence of a correct public opinion and a due appreciation of the importance of education. the improvements in the schools of that state during the last few years are not in consequence of any increase in her school fund, but because the importance of the subject has been so frequently and impressively presented before the public mind, by means of lectures, public discussions, educational tracts, school journals, and in various other ways, as to overcome that popular indifference which had well-nigh precluded all advance. the late improvements in that state have taken place in spite of the school fund rather than because of any aid derived from it. dr. wayland has expressed the opinion that school "funds are valuable as a _condiment_, not as an _aliment_; and that they should never be so large as to render any considerable degree of personal effort on the part of the parent unnecessary." this is true only when a fund is so far relied upon as to slacken personal effort for the improvement of the schools, and to induce parental and popular indifference in relation to them. the second plan is by taxation, and massachusetts furnishes an example of it. in most of the counties of this state there are small local funds, the avails of which are added to the amount raised by tax for the support of schools. there are also still less amounts appropriated from the income of the surplus revenue for the purpose of increasing the educational advantages of the children; not to be subtracted from, but to be added to, what the towns would otherwise grant. we may, then, consider the school fund of this state as embracing the entire taxable property of the state, from which such a sum is annually raised by tax as is necessary for the support of the schools. in vermont, new hampshire, and maine, the schools are supported essentially as in massachusetts, the difference being chiefly in the mode of taxation. dr. wayland, in a letter written some years ago, makes the following remark in relation to the support of schools: "the best legislative provision with which i am acquainted is that of maine. they have no fund whatever, but oblige every district to raise for education a sum proportioned to the number of its inhabitants or its property. if a town or a district neglects to do this, it is liable to a fine." in those states whose systems of public instruction are best administered--which have the best schools, and the greatest proportion of the population in attendance upon them--the schools are generally supported almost entirely by a direct tax, the great principle that the property of the state should educate the children of the state being practically recognized. it not only appears, then, that large funds are not required for the successful administration of systems of public instruction, but that actually the best schools, and those which are doing most for the correct education of the rising generation, may be found in those states that are destitute of funds, and whose public schools are supported by a direct tax upon the property of the state. the third plan of supporting schools is a combination of both of the others. new york until within the last year,[ ] rhode island, and michigan may be cited as examples of this plan. where this plan has been adopted, the districts or townships have generally been required to raise by tax an amount equal to or greater than what has been received from the school fund. where the expense of supporting the schools has exceeded the whole fund derived from both sources, the balance of the expense has generally been made up by a rate-bill, parents who are able being required to pay in proportion to the number of days their children have attended school. this feature is objectionable even where provision is made for the children of poor parents to attend without charge, for it offers a pecuniary inducement, although the schools be nearly free, to withdraw scholars from attendance upon them for the slightest causes. this plan has obtained very generally in the states northwest of the ohio river, which have received from the general confederacy a grant of one section, or six hundred and forty acres of land in each township for the support of schools. in some of these states the additional tax is already sufficient, when joined with the avails of the school fund, to render the schools entirely free. if one plan is superior to both of the others, this is, perhaps, entitled to the pre-eminence. the school fund lessens the amount which it is necessary to raise by a direct tax; and still the sum which is levied in this way has a tendency to beget and maintain a lively interest on the part of capitalists in the administration of the educational department, and in the maintenance and improvement of the public schools. [ ] a year ago the schools of new york were made entirely free by law. see the foot-note on the th page of this work. without a correct public opinion and a due appreciation of the importance of education, either of the three systems named, or any other which may be adopted for the support of schools, will, and, from the very nature of the case, must, be inadequate to meet the necessities of a free people. but let the public be alive to the advantages of education, and rank it first among the necessaries of life, and almost any system will be attended with eminent success. if, then, one system is superior to all others, it is that which is best calculated to beget in the popular mind a realizing sense of the necessity of educating all our youth in good schools. if this can be done in a state which has a large school fund, without diminishing the interest of the people in education, or relaxing their efforts to maintain improved schools, then may such a fund prove serviceable, as it will lessen the general tax. but if the citizens of any state can not be brought to realize the importance of maintaining an elevated standard of common school education, and of rendering its blessings universal, without defraying the whole expense by a direct tax, then will a school fund prove to them a curse, and not a blessing. where there is a will there is a way, says the adage. mr. duer, as quoted at the head of this chapter, says, "i would recommend that each state should raise a fund sufficient for the entire support of the schools; that a suitable school-house and apparatus, with a convenient dwelling-house for the teacher, be furnished by the state for each district; and that every school-house be supplied with a well-qualified teacher, who shall receive from the state a suitable compensation." in this recommendation i fully concur. but with me it is immaterial whether the state raises a separate fund, set apart exclusively for the purposes of education, or regards the entire taxable property of the commonwealth, personal and real, as a general fund from which there shall be drawn annually a sufficient per centage to provide for universal education in free schools. this only do i insist upon, that the people be brought so fully to realize the advantages of a good common education as to place it high on the list of indispensables; then will they provide for rendering its blessings universal. the mode of doing this in any one state may, in view of the peculiar circumstances of a people, be different from that which it would be most advantageous ordinarily to adopt. if there is no other sure way of meeting the expense of common schools, and of begetting and maintaining a deep and abiding interest in popular education, then let the property of the state be regarded as a common fund from which there shall be annually drawn a sum sufficient for the maintenance of improved free schools, in which every child may receive a generous education, as this is the interest first in importance to individuals and families, to neighborhoods and communities, to states and nations. _the state should maintain an educational department._ the magnitude of the interests involved renders this of the utmost importance. at the head of this department in every state there should be a minister of public instruction--whether he is called school superintendent, school commissioner, secretary of the board of education, or superintendent of public instruction--and he should be allowed time to make himself familiar with all the leading writers on the subject of education, in whatever age or language their works may have been written. such an officer can not in any other way become qualified for the proper discharge of the duties which pertain to his profession. he should also be allowed time to acquaint himself with the current literature belonging to his department as it emanates from the press; to examine new school-books, and new kinds of school apparatus which claim to possess advantages, that he may be prepared to give to school teachers, school committee-men, and others whose opportunities for examination and investigation are less extended, and many of whom must be inexperienced, such advice as shall enable them judiciously to expend their means for their personal improvement or the improvement of their schools. he should likewise have time and opportunity to become so conversant with the practical operations of different school systems as to be qualified to give such suggestions in official reports as may be of service to the legislature in perfecting their own, and to subordinate officers in its successful administration. all this would be necessary were we only to consult the pecuniary interests of the state in the judicious expenditure of the means which are annually devoted to the support of common schools. of how much greater importance is it that there should be such an officer in every state, and that he should enjoy every possible means for increasing his usefulness, when we consider that the successful bestowment of his labors will contribute greatly to increase individual and social happiness, and the general prosperity of the state in all coming generations. in the further consideration of the means of rendering the blessings of education universal, we shall introduce leading topics in the order in which they naturally suggest themselves. * * * * * good school houses should be provided. a school ought to be a noble asylum, to which children will come, and in which they will remain with pleasure; to which their parents will send them with good will.--cousin. if there is one house in the district more pleasantly located, more comfortably constructed, better warmed, more inviting in its general appearance, and more elevating in its influence than any other, that house should be the school-house.--_michigan school report_, . in considering the means of improving our schools, the place where our country's youth receive their first instruction, and where nineteen twentieths of them complete their scholastic training, claims early attention. it is, then, proper to consider the condition of this class of edifices, as they have almost universally been in every part of the united states until within a few years past, and as they now generally are out of those states in which public attention has of late been more especially directed to improvements in education; for, before any people will attempt a reform in this particular, they must see and feel the need of it. even in the more favored states, comparatively few in number, the improvements in school architecture have been confined mostly to a few localities, and are far from being adequate to the necessities of the case. did space allow, i would present statements made by school officers in their reports from various states of the union: for, however wide the differences may be in common usage, in other respects there has heretofore been a striking sameness in the appearance of school-houses in every part of the country. condition of school-houses.--in remarking upon the condition of this class of edifices, as they have heretofore been constructed, and as they are now almost universally found wherever public sentiment has not been earnestly, perseveringly, and judiciously called to their improvement, i will present a few extracts from the official reports of massachusetts and new york, where greater pains have been taken to ascertain existing defects in schools, with a view to providing the necessary remedies, than in any other two states of this union. _school-houses in massachusetts._--the secretary of the board of education of this state, in his report for , remarks in reference to the condition of school-houses in the commonwealth as follows: "for years the condition of this class of edifices throughout the state, taken as a whole, had been growing worse and worse. time and decay were always doing their work, while only here and there, with wide spaces between, was any notice taken of their silent ravages; and, in still fewer instances, were these ravages repaired. hence, notwithstanding the improved condition of all other classes of buildings, general dilapidation was the fate of these. industry, and the increasing pecuniary ability which it creates, had given comfort, neatness, and even elegance to private dwellings. public spirit had erected commodious and costly churches. counties, though largely taxed, had yet uncomplainingly paid for handsome and spacious court-houses and public offices. humanity had been at work, and had made generous and noble provision for the pauper, the blind, the deaf and dumb, the insane. even jails and houses of correction--the receptacles of felons and other offenders against the laws of god and man--had in many instances been transformed, by the more enlightened spirit of the age, into comfortable and healthful residences. the genius of architecture, as if she had made provision for all mankind, extended her sheltering care over the brute creation. better stables were provided for cattle; better folds for sheep; and even the unclean beasts felt the improving hand of reform. but, in the mean while, the school-houses, to which the children should have been wooed by every attraction, were suffered to go where age and the elements would carry them. "in , not one third of the public school-houses in massachusetts would have been considered tenantable by any decent family out of the poor-house or in it. as an inducement to neatness and decency, children were sent to a house whose walls and floors were indeed painted, but they were painted all too thickly by smoke and filth; whose benches and doors were covered with carved work, but they were the gross and obscene carvings of impure hands; whose vestibule, after the oriental fashion, was converted into a veranda, but the metamorphosis which changed its architectural style consisted in laying it bare of its outer covering. the modesty and chastity of the sexes, at their tenderest age, were to be cultivated and cherished in places which oftentimes were as destitute of all suitable accommodation as a camp or a caravan. the brain was to be worked amid gases that stupefied it. the virtues of generosity and forbearance were to be acquired where sharp discomfort and pain tempt each one to seize more than his own share of relief, and thus to strengthen every selfish propensity. "at the time referred to, the school-houses in massachusetts were an opprobrium to the state; and if there be any one who thinks this expression too strong, he may satisfy himself of its correctness by inspecting some of the few specimens of them which still remain. "the earliest effort at reform was directed to this class of buildings. by presenting the idea of taxation, this measure encountered the opposition of one of the strongest passions of the age. not only the sordid and avaricious, but even those whose virtue of frugality, by the force of habit, had been imperceptibly sliding into the vice of parsimony, felt the alarm. men of fortune without children, and men who had reared a family of children and borne the expenses of their education, fancied they saw something of injustice in being called to pay for the education of others, and too often their fancies started into specters of all imaginable oppression and wrong. "during the five years immediately succeeding the report made by the board of education to the legislature on the subject of school-houses, the sums expended for the erection and repair of this class of buildings fell but little short of _seven hundred thousand dollars_. since that time, from the best information obtained, i suppose the sum expended on this one item to be about _one hundred and fifty thousand dollars annually_. every year adds some new improvement to the construction and arrangement of these edifices. "in regard to this great change in school-houses--it would hardly be too much to call it a _revolution_--the school committees have done an excellent work, or, rather, they have begun it; it is not yet done. their annual reports, read in open town meeting, or printed and circulated among the inhabitants, afterward embodied in the abstracts and distributed to the members of the government, to all town and school committees, have enlightened and convinced the state." _school-houses in new york._--about ten years ago, special visitors were appointed by the superintendent of common schools in each of the counties of this state, who were requested to visit and inspect the schools, and to report minutely in regard to their state and prospects. the most respectable citizens, without distinction of party, were selected to discharge this duty; and the result of their labors is contained in two reports, made, the one in april, , the other in february, . "it may be remarked, generally," say the visitors of one of the oldest and most affluent towns of the southeastern section of the state, "that the school-houses are built in the old style, are too small to be convenient, and, with one exception, too near the public roads, having generally no other play-ground."--_report_, , p. . say the visitors of another large and wealthy town in the central part of the state, "out of twenty schools visited, ten of the school-houses were in bad repair, and many of them not worth repairing. in none were any means provided for the ventilation of the room. in many of the districts, the school-rooms are too small for the number of scholars. the location of the school-houses is generally pleasant. there are, however, but few instances where play-grounds are attached, and their condition as to privies is very bad. the arrangement of seats and desks is generally very bad, and inconvenient to both scholars and teachers; most of them are without backs."--_report_, , p. . in another large and populous town in the northwestern part of the state, it appears from the report of the visitors that only _five_ out of twenty-two school-houses are respectable or comfortable; none have any proper means of ventilation; eight of them are built of logs, and but one of them has a privy. according to the report from another county, where the evils already enumerated exist, "there is, in general, too little attention to having good and dry wood provided, or a _good supply of any_; or to have a wood-house or shelter to keep it from the storm." this neglect is very common. another neglect, noticed by many of the visitors, is "the cold and comfortless state in which the children find the school-room, owing to the late hour at which the fire is first made in the morning." three years later--and after the appointment of county superintendents in each of the counties of that state, who collected statistics with great care--the hon. samuel young, then state superintendent, after making a minute statement of the number of school-houses constructed of stone, brick, wood, and logs; of their condition as to repair; of the destitution of privies, suitable play-grounds, etc., remarked as follows: "but out of houses visited contained more than one room; were destitute of any suitable play-ground; nearly were unfurnished with convenient seats and desks; nearly destitute of the proper facilities for ventilation; _and upward of without a privy of any sort_; while, of the remainder, but about were provided with privies containing different apartments for male and female pupils! and it is in these miserable abodes of accumulated dirt and filth, deprived of wholesome air, or exposed, without adequate protection, to the assaults of the elements; with no facilities for necessary exercise or relaxation; no convenience for prosecuting their studies; crowded together on benches not admitting of a moment's rest in any position, and debarred the possibility of yielding to the ordinary calls of nature without violent inroads upon modesty and shame, that upward of _two hundred thousand children_, scattered over various parts of the state, are compelled to spend an average period of eight months during each year of their pupilage! here the first lessons of human life, the incipient principles of morality, and the rules of social intercourse are to be impressed upon the plastic mind. the boy is here to receive the model of his permanent character, and to imbibe the elements of his future career; and here the instinctive delicacy of the young female, one of the characteristic ornaments of the sex, is to be expanded into maturity by precept and example! is it strange, under such circumstances, that an early and invincible repugnance to the acquisition of knowledge is imbibed by the youthful mind? that the school-house is regarded with unconcealed aversion and disgust, and that parents who have any desire to preserve the health and the morals of their children exclude them from the district school, and provide instruction for them elsewhere?" a volume might be filled with similar testimony; but one more quotation from another state must suffice. after noticing the common evils already referred to, the superintendent remarks as follows:[ ] "but this notice of _ordinary_ deficiencies does not cover the whole ground of error in regard to the situation of school-houses. in some cases they are brought into close connection with positive nuisances. in a case which has fallen under the superintendent's own personal observation, one side of the school-house forms part of the fence of a hog-yard, into which, during the summer, the calves of an extensive dairy establishment have been thrown from time to time (disgusting and revolting spectacle!), to be rent and devoured before the eyes of teacher and pupils, except such portions of the mutilated and mangled carcasses as were left by the animals to go to decay, as they lay exposed to the sun and storm. it is true, the windows on the side of the building adjoining the yard were generally observed to be closed, in order to shut out the almost insupportable stench which arose from the decomposing remains. but this closure of the windows could, in no great degree, 'abate the nuisance;' for not a breath of air could enter the house from any direction but it must come saturated with the disgusting and sickening odor that loaded the atmosphere around. it needs no professional learning to tell the deleterious influence upon health which must be exerted by such an agency, operating for continuous hours." [ ] first annual report of the state superintendent (hon. horace eaton) of common schools, made to the legislature of vermont, october, . if such evils as have been considered have existed so generally, and still prevail to an alarming extent, even in the states where education has received the most attention, what need must there be for the dissemination of information on this vitally important subject, especially in those states where education has heretofore received less attention! in remarking further upon this subject, i shall consider several leading particulars in the order they naturally suggest themselves. i will, then, commence with the location of school-houses.--in comparatively few instances school-houses are favorably located, being situated on dry, hard ground, in a retired though central part of the district, in the midst of a natural or artificial grove. but they are almost universally badly located; exposed to the noise, dust, and danger of the highway; unattractive, if not absolutely repulsive in their external appearance, and built at the least possible expense of material and labor. they are generally on one corner of public roads, and sometimes adjacent to a cooper's shop, or between a blacksmith's shop and a saw-mill. they are not unfrequently placed on an acute angle, where a road forks, and sometimes in turning that angle, the travel is chiefly behind the school-house, leaving it on a small triangle bounded on all sides by public roads. occasionally the school-house is situated on a low and worthless piece of ground, with a sluggish stream of water in its vicinity, which sometimes even passes under the house. the comfort, and health even, of children are thus sacrificed to the parsimony of their parents. scholars very generally step from the school-house directly into the highway. indeed, school-houses are frequently situated one half in the highway and the other half in the adjacent field, as though they were unfit for either. this is the case even in some of the principal villages of all the states i have ever visited, or from which i have read full reports on the subject. strange as it may seem, school-houses are sometimes situated _in the middle of the highway_, a portion of the travel being on each side of them. when the scholars are engaged in their recreations, they are exposed to bleak winds and the inclemency of the weather one portion of the year, and to the scorching rays of the meridian sun another portion. moreover, their recreations must be conducted in the street, or they trespass upon their neighbors' premises. we pursue a very different policy in locating a church, a court-house, or a dwelling; and should we not pursue an equally wise and liberal policy in locating the _district school-house_? in the states generally northwest of the river ohio, six hundred and forty acres of land in every township are appropriated to the support of common schools. suppose there are ten school districts in a township, this would allow sixty-four acres to every district. it would seem that when the general government has appropriated _sixty-four acres_ to create a fund for the encouragement of the schools of a township, that each district might set apart _one acre_ as a site for a school-house. once more: school districts usually contain not less than twenty-five hundred acres of land. is it, then, asking too much to set apart _one acre_ as a site for a school-house, in which the _minds_ of the children of the district shall be cultivated, when _twenty-four hundred and ninety-nine_ acres are appropriated to feeding and clothing their _bodies_? i would respectfully suggest, and even _urge_ the propriety of locating the school-house on a piece of firm ground of liberal dimensions, and of inclosing the same with a suitable fence. the location should be dry, quiet, and pleasant, and in every respect healthy. the vicinity of places of idle and dissipated resort should by all means be avoided; and, if possible, the site of the school-house should overlook a delightful country, and be surrounded by picturesque scenery. the school yard, at least, should be inclosed not only, but set out with shade trees, unless provided with those of nature's own planting. it should also be ornamented with beautiful shrubbery, and be made the park of the neighborhood--the pleasantest place for resort within the boundaries of the district. this would contribute largely to the formation of a correct taste on the part of both children and parents. it would also tend to the formation of virtuous habits and the cultivation of self-respect; for the scholars would then enjoy their pastime in a pleasant and healthful yard, where they have a _right_ to be, and need no longer be hunted as _trespassers_ upon their neighbors' premises, as they now too frequently are. size and construction.--in treating upon the philosophy of respiration at the d page of this work, it was stated that, exclusive of entry and closets, where they are furnished with these appendages, school-houses are not usually larger than twenty by twenty-four feet on the ground, and seven feet in height. the average attendance in houses of these dimensions was estimated at forty-five scholars in the winter. it was also stated that the medium quantity of air that enters the lungs at each inspiration is thirty-six cubic inches, and that respiration is repeated once in three seconds, or twenty times a minute. now, to say nothing of the inconvenience which so many persons must experience in occupying a house of so narrow dimensions, and making no allowance for the space taken up by desks, furniture, and the scholars themselves, a simple arithmetical computation will show any one that such a room will not contain a sufficient amount of air for the support of life three hours. but i will here simply refer the reader to the fourth chapter of this work, and will not repeat what was there said. in determining the size of school-houses, due regard should be had to several particulars. there should be a separate entry or lobby for each sex, which mr. barnard, in his school architecture,[ ] very justly says should be furnished with a scraper, mat, hooks or shelves--both are needed--sink, basin, and towels. a separate entry thus furnished will prevent much confusion, rudeness, and impropriety, and promote the health, refinement, and orderly habits of the children. [ ] "school architecture," or contributions to the improvement of school-houses in the united states, by henry barnard, commissioner of public schools in rhode island, p. . this excellent treatise embodies a mass of most valuable information in relation to school-houses and apparatus. it contains the plans of a great number of the best school-houses in various portions of the united states, and should be consulted by every committee before determining upon a plan for the construction of a valuable school-house. the principal room of the school-house, and each such room where there are several departments, should be large enough to allow each occupant a suitable quantity of pure air, which should be at least twice the common amount, or not less than one hundred and fifty cubic feet. there should also be one or more rooms for recitation, apparatus, library, etc., according to the size of the school and the number of scholars to be accommodated. every school-room should be so constructed that each scholar may pass to and from his seat without disturbing or in the least incommoding any other one. a house thus arranged will enable the teacher to pass at all times to any part of the room, and to approach each scholar in his seat whenever it may be desirable to do so for purposes of instruction or otherwise. such an arrangement is of the utmost importance; and without the fulfillment of this condition, no teacher can most advantageously superintend the affairs of a whole school, and especially of a large one. in determining the details of construction and arrangement for a school-house, due regard must be had to the varying circumstances of country and city, as well as to the number of scholars that may be expected in attendance, the number of teachers to be employed, and the different grades of schools that may be established in a community. country districts.--in country districts, as they have long been situated, and still generally are, aside from separate entries and clothes-rooms for the sexes, there will only be needed one principal school-room, with a smaller room for recitations, apparatus, and other purposes. in arranging and fitting up this room, reference must be had to the requirements of the district; for this one room is to be occupied by children of all ages, for summer and winter schools, and for the secular, but more especially for the religious meetings of the neighborhood. but in its construction primary reference should be had to the convenience of the scholars in school, for it will be used by them more, ten to one, than for all other purposes. every child, then, even the youngest in school, should be furnished with a seat and desk, at which he may sit with ease and comfort. the seats should each be furnished with a back, and their height should be such as to allow the children to rest their feet comfortably upon the floor. the necessity of this will be apparent by referring to what has been said on the laws of health in the third chapter of this work, at the th and following pages. no one, then, can fail to see the advantages that would result to a densely-settled community from a union of two or more districts for the purpose of maintaining in each a school for the younger children, and of establishing in the central part of the associated districts a school of a higher grade for the older and more advanced children of all the districts thus united. if four districts should be united in this way, they might erect a central house, c, for the larger and more advanced scholars, and four smaller ones, p p p p, for the younger children. the central school might be taught by a male teacher, with female assistants, if needed; but the primary schools, with this arrangement, could be more economically and successfully instructed by females. in several of the states legal provisions are already made for such a consolidation of districts. this would invite a more perfect classification of scholars, and would allow the central school-house to be so constructed, and to have the seats and desks of such a height as to be convenient for the larger grade of scholars, and still be comfortable for other purposes for which it might occasionally be necessary to occupy it. such an arrangement, while it would obviate the almost insuperable difficulties which stand in the way of proper classification and the thorough government and instruction of schools, would at the same time offer greater inducements to the erection of more comfortable and attractive school-houses. --------------- | | | | p | p | |------c------| | | | | p | p | --------------- cities and villages.--the plan suggested in the last paragraph may be perfected in cities and villages. for this purpose, where neither the distance nor the number of scholars is too great, some prefer to have all the schools of a district or corporation conducted under the same roof. however this may be, as there will be other places for public meetings of various kinds, each room should be appropriated to a particular department, and be fitted up exclusively for the accommodation of the grade of scholars that are to occupy it. in cities, and even in villages with a population of three or four thousand, it is desirable to establish at least three grades of schools, viz., first, the primary, for the smallest children; second, the intermediate, for those more advanced; and, third, a central high school, for scholars that have passed through the primary and intermediate schools. while this arrangement is favorable to the better classification of the scholars of a village or city, and holds out an inducement to those of the lowest and middle grade of schools to perfect themselves in the various branches of study that are pursued in them respectively as the condition upon which they are permitted to enter a higher grade, it also allows a more perfect adjustment of the seats and desks to the various requirements of the children in their passage through the grade of schools. new york free academy.--in the public schools of the city of new york, two hundred in number, six hundred teachers are employed, and one hundred thousand children annually receive instruction. the free academy, which is a public school of the highest grade, and which is represented in our frontispiece, was established by the board of education in . the expense of the building, without the furniture, was $ , , and the annual expense for the salaries of professors and teachers is about $ , . out of twenty-four thousand votes cast, twenty thousand were for the establishment of this institution, in which essentially a complete collegiate education may be obtained. no students are admitted to it who have not attended the public schools of the city for at least one full year, nor these until they have undergone a thorough examination and proved themselves worthy. its influence is not confined to the one hundred or one hundred and fifty scholars who may graduate from it annually, but leaches and stimulates the six hundred teachers, and the hundred thousand children whom they instruct, and thus elevates the common schools of the city _in reality_ not only, but places them much more favorably before the public than they otherwise could be. smaller cities, and especially villages with a population of but a few thousand, can not, of course, maintain so extended a system of public schools; but they can accomplish essentially the same thing more perfectly, though on a smaller scale. for the benefit of districts in the country and in villages, i will here insert a few plans of school-houses. [illustration: _plan of a school-house for fifty-six scholars._ size, by feet. scale, feet to the inch.] d d, doors. e e, entries lighted over outer doors, one for the boys and the other for the girls. t, teacher's platform and desk. r l, room for recitation, library, and apparatus, which may be entered by a single door, as represented in the plan, or by two, as in the following plan. s s, stoves with air-tubes beneath. k k, aisles four feet wide--the remaining aisles are each two feet wide. _c v_, chimneys and ventilators. i i, recitation seats. b b, black-board, made by giving the wall a colored hard finish. g h, seats and desks, four feet in length, constructed as represented on the next page. the seat and desk may be made together, and instead of being fastened permanently to the floor, attached in front by a strap hinge, which will admit of their being turned forward while sweeping under and behind them. [illustration: _primary and intermediate department, on first floor._ size, by feet. scale, feet to the inch.] a, entrance for boys to the high school. c, entrance for girls to the high school. p, entrance for boys to the primary and intermediate departments. q, entrance for girls to the same. d d, doors. w w, windows. t, teacher's platform and desk. g h, desk and seat for two scholars, a section of which is represented at x, in the primary department. i i, recitation seats. b b, black-boards. s s, stoves, with air-tubes beneath. _c v_, chimney and ventilator. r, room for recitation library, apparatus, and other purposes. [illustration: _high school, or third department, on second floor._] a, entrance for the boys, through the entry below. c, entrance for the girls. g h, desk and seat: aisles from two to three feet wide. d d, doors. w w, windows. s s, stoves. _c v_, chimney and ventilator. t, teacher's platform. r, recitation-room. i i, recitation seats in principal room. b b, black-board: as a substitute for the common painted board, a portion of the wall, covered with hard finish, may be painted black; or, what is better, the hard finish itself may be colored before it is put on, by mixing with it lamp-black, wet up with alcohol or sour beer. ventilation of school-houses.--we have already seen that in a school-room occupied by forty-five persons, thirty-two thousand four hundred cubic inches of air impart their entire vitality to support animal life _the first minute_, and, mingling with the atmosphere of the room, proportionably deteriorate the whole mass; that the air of crowded school-rooms thus soon becomes entirely unfit for respiration, and that, as the necessary result, the health of both teacher and scholars is endangered; that the scholars gradually lose both the desire and the ability to study, and become more inclined to be disorderly, while the teacher becomes continually more unfit either to teach or govern. hence the necessity of frequent and thorough ventilation. the ordinary facilities for ventilating school-rooms consist in opening a door and raising the lower sash of the windows. the only ventilation which has been practiced in the great majority of schools has been entirely accidental, and has consisted in opening and closing the outer door as the scholars enter and pass out of the school-house, before school, during the recesses, and at noon. ventilation, as such, i may safely say, has not, until within a few years, been practiced in one school in fifty; nor is it at the present time in many parts of the country. it is true, the door has at times been set open a few minutes, and the windows have been occasionally raised, but the object has been either to let the smoke pass out of the room, or to cool it when it has become too warm, not to ventilate it. ventilation by opening a door or raising the windows is imperfect, and frequently injurious. a more effectual and safer method of ventilation consists in lowering the upper sash of the window. in very cold or stormy weather, a ventilator in the ceiling may be opened, so as to allow the vitiated air to escape into the attic, in which case there should be a free communication between the attic and the outer air by means of a lattice in the gable, or otherwise. a ventilator may also be constructed in connection with the chimney, by carrying up a partition in the middle, one half of the chimney being used for a smoke flue, and the other half for a ventilator. but it is often asked, why is it not just as well to raise the lower sash of the windows as to lower the upper one? in reply i would say, first, lowering the upper sash is _a more effectual method of ventilation_. in a room which is warmed and occupied in cold weather, the warmer and more vitiated portions of the air rise to the upper part of the room, while that which is colder and purer descends. the reason for this may not be readily conceived, especially when we consider that carbonic acid, the vitiating product of respiration, is specifically heavier than common air. three considerations, however, will make it apparent. . gases of different specific gravity mix uniformly, under favorable circumstances. . the carbonic acid which is exhaled from the lungs at about blood heat is hence rarefied, and specifically lighter than the air in the room, which inclines it to ascend. . the ingress of cold and heavier air from without is chiefly through apertures near the base of the room. raising the lower sash of the windows allows a portion of the purer air of the room to pass off, while the more vitiated air above is retained. lowering the upper sash allows the impure air above to escape, while the purer air below remains unchanged. lowering the upper sash is also the _safer method of ventilation_. it not only allows the impure air more readily to escape, but provides also for the more uniform diffusion of the pure air from without, which takes its place through the upper part of the room. the renovated air will gradually settle upon the heads of the scholars, giving them a purer air to breathe, while the comfort of the body and lower extremities will remain undisturbed. this is as it should be; for warm feet and cool heads contribute alike to physical comfort and clearness of mind. raising the lower sash of the windows endangers the health of scholars, exposing those who sit near them to colds, catarrhs, etc. indeed, when it is very cold or stormy, it is unsafe to ventilate by lowering the upper sash of the windows. at such times, provision should be made for the escape of impure air at the upper part of the room, and for the introduction of pure air at the lower part, as will be shown while treating upon the means of warming. means of warming.--next in importance to pure air in a school-room is the maintenance of an even temperature. this is an indispensable condition of health, comfort, and successful labor. it is one, however, that is very generally disregarded; or, perhaps i should say, one that is not often enjoyed. school-houses are generally warmed by means of stoves, some of which are in a good condition, and supplied with dry, seasoned wood. the instances, however, in which such facilities for warming exist, are comparatively few. it is much more common to see cracked and broken stoves, the doors without either hinges or latch, with rusty pipe of various sizes. green wood, also, and that which is old and partially decayed, either drenched with rain or covered with snow during inclement weather, is much more frequently used for fuel than sound, seasoned wood, protected from the weather by a suitable wood-house. with this state of things, it is exceedingly difficult to kindle a fire, which burns poorly, at best, when built. fires, moreover, are frequently built so late, that the house does not become comfortably warm at the time appointed for commencing school. these neglects are the fruitful source of much discomfort and disorder. the temperature is fluctuating; the room is filled with smoke a considerable part of the time, especially in stormy weather; and the school is liable to frequent interruptions, in fastening together and tying up stove-pipe, etc., etc. this may seem a little like exaggeration. i know full well there are many noble exceptions. but in a large majority of instances some of these inconveniences exist; and the most of them coexist much more frequently than persons generally are aware of. i speak from the personal observation of several thousand schools in different states, and from reliable information in relation to the subject from various portions of the country. i have myself many times heard trustees and patrons, who have visited their school with me for the first time in several years, say, "we ought to have some dry wood to kindle with; i didn't know as it was so smoky: we must get some new pipe; really, our stove is getting dangerous," etc. and some of the boys have relieved the embarrassment of their parents by saying, "it don't smoke near so bad to-day as it does sometimes!" the principal reason why the stoves in our school-houses are so cracked and broken, and why the pipes are so rusty and open, lies in the circumstance that green wood, or that which is partially decayed and saturated with moisture, is used for fuel, instead of good seasoned wood, protected from the inclemency of the weather by a suitable wood-house. there are at least three reasons why this is poor policy. . it takes double the amount of wood. a considerable portion of the otherwise sensible heat becomes latent, in the conversion of ice, snow, and moisture into steam. . the steam thus generated cracks the stove and rusts the pipe, so that they will not last one half as long as though dry wood from a wood-house were used. . it is impossible to preserve an even temperature. sometimes it is too cold, and at other times it is too warm; and this, with such means of warming, is unavoidable. scores of teachers have informed me that, in order to keep their fires from going out, it was necessary to have their stoves constantly full of wood, and even to lay wood upon the stove, that a portion of it might be seasoning while the rest was burning. aside from the inconvenience of a fluctuating temperature, this is an unseemly and filthy practice, and one that generates very offensive and injurious gases. again: i have frequently heard the following and similar remarks: "the use of stoves in our school-houses is a great evil;" "stoves are unhealthy in our school-houses, or in any other houses," etc. this idea being somewhat prevalent, and stoves being generally used in our school-houses, their influence upon health becomes a proper subject for consideration. combustion, whether in a stove or fire-place, consists in a chemical union of the _oxygen gas_ of the atmosphere with _carbon_, the combustible part of the wood or coal used for fuel. carbonic acid, the vitiating product of combustion, does not, however, ordinarily deteriorate the atmosphere of the room, but, mingling with the smoke, escapes through the stove-pipe or chimney. the stove, in point of economy, is far superior to the open fire-place as ordinarily constructed. when the latter is used, it has been estimated that nine tenths of the heat evolved ascends the chimney, and only one tenth, or, according to rumford and franklin, only one fifteenth, is radiated from the front of the fire into the room. four-fold more fuel is required to warm a room by a fire-place than when a stove is used. oxygen is, of course, consumed in a like proportion, and hence, when the open fire-place is used, there is necessarily a four-fold greater ingress of cold air to supply combustion than where a stove is employed. and, what is of still greater importance, when a fire-place is used, it is impossible to preserve so uniform a temperature throughout the room as when a stove is employed. when a fire-place is used, the cold air is constantly rushing through every crevice at one end of the room to supply combustion at the other end. hence the scholars in one part of the room suffer from cold, while those in the opposite part are oppressed with heat. the stove may be set in a central part of the room, whence the heat will radiate, not in one direction merely, but in all directions. in addition to this, as we have already seen, only one fourth as much air is required to sustain combustion, on both of which accounts a much more even and uniform temperature can be maintained throughout a room where a stove is used than where a fire-place is employed. but whence, then, has arisen the prevailing opinion that stoves are unhealthy? there are two sources of mischief, either of which furnishes a sufficient foundation for this popular fallacy. the first has already been referred to, and consists simply in the almost total neglect of proper ventilation. the other lies in the circumstance that school-rooms are generally kept too warm. in addition to the inconvenience of too high a temperature, the aqueous vapor existing in the atmosphere in its natural and healthful state is dispersed, and the air of the room becomes too dry. the evil being seen, the remedy is apparent. reduce the temperature of the room to its proper point, and supply the deficiency of aqueous vapor by an evaporating dish partially filled with pure water. if this is not done, the dry and over-heated air, which is highly absorbent of moisture in every thing with which it comes in contact, not only creates a disagreeable sensation of dryness on the surface of the body, but in passing over the delicate membrane of the throat, creates a tickling, induces a cough, and lays the foundation for pulmonary disease, especially when ventilation is neglected. the water in the evaporating dish should be frequently changed, and kept free from dirt and other impurities. care also should be taken not to create more moisture than the air naturally contains, otherwise the effect will be positively injurious. the evil complained of is attributable mainly to the maintenance of a too high temperature. were a thermometer placed in many of our school-rooms--and a school-house should never be without one in every occupied apartment--instead of indicating a suitable temperature, say sixty-two or sixty-five degrees, or even a summer temperature, it would not unfrequently rise above blood heat. the system is thus not only enfeebled and deranged by breathing an infectious atmosphere, but the debility thence arising is considerably increased in consequence of too high a temperature. the two causes combined eminently predispose the system to disease. the change from inhaling a fluid poison at blood heat, to inhaling the purer air without at the freezing point or below, is greater than the system can bear with impunity. a uniform temperature, which is highly important, can be more easily and more effectually maintained where a stove is employed, furnished with a damper, and supplied with dry, hard wood, than where a fire-place is used. in the former case the draft may be regulated, in the latter it can not be. a great amount of air enters into combustion even where a stove is used. a greater quantity enters into the combustion where a fire-place is used, in proportion to the increased amount of wood consumed. much of the heated air, also, where an open fire-place is used, mingling with the smoke, passes off through the chimney, and its place is supplied by an ingress of cold air at the more distant portions of the room. there is hence not only a great waste of fuel, but a sacrifice of comfort, health, and life. but even where a stove is used there is a constant ingress of cold air through cracks and defects in the floor, doors, windows, and walls, which causes it to be colder in the outer portions of the room than in the central portions and about the stove. the evil is the same in kind as that already referred to in speaking of fire-places, but less in degree. this evil, however, may be almost entirely obviated by a very simple arrangement, which will also do much to render ventilation at once more effectual and safe, especially in very cold and inclement weather. the arrangement is as follows: immediately beneath the floor--and in case the school-house is two stories high, between the ceiling and the floor above--insert a tube from four to six inches in diameter, according to the size of the rooms, the outer end communicating with the external air by means of an orifice in the under-pinning or wall of the house, and the other, by means of an angle, passing upward through the floor beneath the stove. this part of the tube should be furnished with a register, so as to admit much or little air, as may be desirable. this simple arrangement will reverse the ordinary currents of air in a school-room. the cold air, instead of entering at the crevices in the outer part of the room, where it is coldest, enters directly beneath the stove, where it is warmest. it thus moderates the heat immediately about the stove, and being warmed as it enters, and mingling with the heated air, establishes currents toward the walls, and gradually finds its way out at the numerous crevices through which the cold air previously entered. if these are not sufficient for the purpose, several ventilators should be provided in distant parts of the room, as already suggested. this simple arrangement, then, provides for the more even dissemination of heat through all parts of the room, and thus secures a more uniform temperature, and, at the same time, provides a purer air for respiration, contributes greatly to the comfort and health of the scholars, and fulfills several important conditions which are essential to the most successful prosecution of their studies, and to the maintenance and improvement of social and moral, as well as intellectual and physical health. by inclosing the stove on three sides in a case of sheet iron, leaving a space of two or three inches between the case and the stove for an air chamber, the air will become more perfectly warmed before entering the room at the top of the case. the best mode, however, of warming and ventilating large school-houses is by pure air heated in a furnace placed in the basement. the whole house can in this way be warmed without any inconvenience to the school from maintaining the fires, on account of either noise, dust, or smoke. but as this mode of warming can not be advantageously adopted except in very large schools, it will not often be found desirable out of cities and large villages. library and apparatus.--i have already said that every school-house should have a room for recitations, library, and apparatus. in country districts where but one teacher is employed in a school, it will perhaps generally be found convenient to conduct the majority of the recitations in the principal school-room. but even where this practice obtains, there is still urgent necessity for a room for a library, apparatus, and other purposes. several of the states have carried into successful operation the noble system of district libraries. these, in the single state of new york, already contain nearly two millions of volumes. in some of the new states the system of township libraries has been adopted, which, on some accounts, is better adapted to a sparse population with limited means. these, in the state of michigan, already contain one hundred thousand volumes. the director of each school district draws from the township library every three months the number of books his district is entitled to. these, for the time being, constitute the district library, and each citizen in the township is thus allowed the use of all the books in the township library. now, whichever of these systems is adopted, the school-house is the appropriate depository of the library. there are many reasons for this. it is central. it is the property of the district. during term-time it is visited daily by members from perhaps every family in the district. there may, and should be, a time fixed, at least once a week, when the library will be open, the librarian or his assistant being in attendance, at which time books may be returned and drawn anew. for this purpose, and on all accounts, no place can be so appropriate and free from objection as the school-house. the library may also be opened one or more evenings in the week, and especially during the winter, when evenings are long, as a district reading-room. moreover, should a district lyceum be established, the use of a well-selected library, which will always be at hand, and of appropriate apparatus for the illustration of scientific lectures, will contribute greatly to increase both the popularity and the usefulness of the institution. with such an arrangement, the children of the district would most assuredly be much more benefited by the instructions they would receive. the school would also possess many attractions for adults of both sexes, and by the co-operation of the wise and the good, its refining, purifying, and regenerating influences may be brought effectually to bear upon every family and every individual within the boundaries of the district. then will the idea of cousin be realized, who says, "a school ought to be a noble asylum, to which children will come, and in which they will remain with pleasure; to which their parents will send them with good will;" and, i will add, one whose uplifting influence both children and parents will constantly feel. such a room as i have described will also be found important for various other purposes, as a commodious place for retirement in case of sudden indisposition, a place where a teacher may see a patron or a friend in private, should it be at any time desirable, or a parent his child. it would also be of great service in giving the teacher an opportunity to see scholars in private, for various purposes, as well as in affording a convenient room for scholars to retire to, with the permission of the teacher, for mutual instruction. that able and judicious advocate of popular enlightenment, and eminently successful school officer, the honorable henry barnard, does not over-estimate the importance of district libraries. in speaking of the benefits they confer upon a community, he says, "wherever such libraries have existed, especially in connection with the advantages of superior schools and an educated ministry, they have called forth talent and virtue, which would otherwise have been buried in poverty and ignorance, to elevate, bless, and purify society. the establishment of a library in every school-house will bring the mighty instrument of good books to act more directly and more broadly on the entire population of a state than it has ever yet done; for it will open the fountains of knowledge, without money and without price, to the humble and the elevated, the poor and the rich." appurtenances to school-houses.--there are, perhaps, in the majority of school-houses, a pail for water, a cup, a broom, and a chair for the teacher. some one or more of these are frequently wanting. i need hardly say, every school-house should be supplied with them all. in addition to these, every school-house should be furnished with the following articles: . an evaporating dish for the stove, which should be supplied with clean pure water. . a thermometer, by which the temperature of the room may be regulated. . a clock, by which the time of beginning and closing school, and conducting all its exercises, may be governed. . a shovel and tongs. . an ash-pail and an ash-house. for want of these, much filth is frequently suffered to accumulate in and about the school-house, and not unfrequently the house itself takes fire and burns down. . a wood-house, well supplied with seasoned wood. . a well, with provisions not only for drinking, but for the cleanliness of pupils. . and last, though not least, in this connection, two privies, in the rear of the school-house, separated by a high close fence, one for the boys and the other for the girls. for want of these indispensable appendages of civilization, the delicacy of children is frequently offended, and their morals corrupted. nay, more, the unnatural detention of the _fæces_, when nature calls for an evacuation, is frequently the foundation for chronic diseases, and the principal cause of permanent ill health, resulting not unfrequently in premature death. the accommodations in this respect provided by a district in a country village of the northwest, whose schools have become celebrated, are none too ample. two octagonal privies are provided--one for each sex--each of which has seven apartments. these are cleansed every two weeks, regularly, and oftener, if necessary. mr. barnard, in treating upon the external arrangements of school-houses, has the following sensible remarks: "the building should not only be located on a dry, healthy, and pleasant site, but be surrounded by a yard, of never less than half an acre, protected by a neat and substantial inclosure. this yard should be large enough in front for all to occupy in common for recreation and sport, and planted with oaks, elms, maples, and other shady trees, tastefully arranged in groups and around the sides. in the rear of the building, it should be divided by a high and close fence, and one portion, appropriately fitted up, should be assigned exclusively for the use of boys, and the other for girls. over this entire arrangement the most perfect neatness, seclusion, order, and propriety should be enforced, and every thing calculated to defile the mind, or wound the delicacy or the modesty of the most sensitive, should receive attention in private, and be made a matter of parental advice and co-operation. "in cities and populous districts, particular attention should be paid to the play-ground, as connected with the physical education of children. in the best-conducted schools, the play-ground is now regarded as the _uncovered_ school-room, where the real dispositions and habits of the pupils are more palpably developed, and can be more wisely trained, than under the restraint of an ordinary school-room. these grounds are provided with circular swings, and are large enough for various athletic games. to protect the children in their sports in inclement weather, in some places, the school-house is built on piers; in others, the basement story is properly fitted up, and thrown open as a play-ground." a good and substantial room, well fitted up, and properly warmed in cold weather, in which children may conduct their sports, under the supervision of a teacher or monitor, is of the utmost importance; and especially is this true of all schools for small children. such a room is, indeed, for these, hardly less important than the school-room. among other things, it should be supplied with dumb-bells,[ ] see-saws, weights and measures of various kinds, etc., etc. these are important for both boys and girls; but, as they are uncommon, it may be well to suggest the proper mode of using them, and the advantages they confer. [ ] dumb-bells are usually made of cast iron, and sometimes of bell-metal, of the shape indicated by the figure, and should weigh from two to ten pounds each, according to the strength of the person using them. [illustration] _dumb-bells_ may be used, in connection with the sports enumerated in the third chapter, for developing and strengthening the chest and improving the health. i would refer any who question the fitness of such exercises to what has been said on the subject at the th and following pages, and especially to the testimony of dr. caldwell there introduced. _see-saws_, in addition to the benefits that result from the exercise, are attractive, and may be rendered highly instructive. for this purpose, the plank or board used should be well hung and properly balanced. the distance from the fulcrum or point of support should be accurately graduated, and marked in feet and inches. then, knowing the weight of one scholar, the weights of all the others may be ascertained by their relative distances from the fulcrum when they exactly balance. these interesting experiments may be tried by any child as soon as he understands the ground rules of arithmetic, and the simple fact that, for two children to balance, the product of the weight of one multiplied into his distance from the fulcrum will exactly equal the product of the weight of the other into his distance from the fulcrum. such simple experiments, when thus mingled with sports, and made interesting to young children, serve the double purpose of attaching them to the school, and of fixing in their minds the habit of observation and experiment, and of understanding the why and wherefore, which will be of incalculable service to them all the way through life. _weights and measures_ serve the same general purpose, and may be rendered well-nigh as useful as slates and black-boards. thousands of children recite every year the table, "four gills make a pint, two pints make a quart, four quarts make a gallon," etc., month in and month out, without any distinct idea of what constitutes a gill or a quart, or even knowing which of the two is the greater. but let these measures be once introduced into the experimental play-room, and let the child, under the supervision of the teacher or monitor, actually _see_ that four gills make a pint, etc., and he will learn the table with ten-fold greater pleasure than he otherwise would, and in one tenth the time. the same general remark will apply to the other tables of weight and measure, to experimental philosophy, and to nearly every branch of study pursued in the common schools of our country. i have but one other general remark to make on this subject, and that is in relation to the influence of school-houses.--cicero observes that the face of a man will be tinged by the sun, for whatever purpose he walks abroad; so, by daily associations, the minds of all persons are influenced, and their characters permanently affected, by scenes with which they are familiar; and especially is this true during the impressive periods of childhood and youth. many persons seem to think that schoolmasters and school-mistresses do all the teaching in our schools. but it is not so. fellow-students, neighbors, and citizens teach by precept and by example; and especially do _school-houses teach_. and oh! what lessons of degradation, pollution, and ruin they sometimes impart! as he can not fail to be convinced who remembers the testimony already introduced in relation to their condition. i have seen the fond parent accompany his lovely child of four summers to the school the first day of its attendance. the child had seen pictures of school-houses in books. pictures, if not always pretty, usually please children. it was so in this case. the child, anxious to go to school, talked of the school-house on the way. there arrived, the parent passed his innocent little one into the care of the teacher, with a few remarks, and was about to retire, when the child, clinging to him, said, pathetically and energetically, "pa! pa!! i don't want to stay in this ugly old house; i am afraid it will fall down on me: i want to go home to our own pretty parlor." but the parent, breaking away from his child, leaves it in tears, with a sad heart. how cruel to do such violence to the tender feelings of innocent children! and how baneful the influence! the school, instead of being a comfortable, pleasant, and delightful place, as it should be, is to the child positively offensive, and the school-house a dreary prison. "just as the twig is bent, the tree's inclined." the child learns to hate school, to hate instruction, and all that is good. he soon becomes the practiced truant. in a few years he arrives at manhood; but, instead of being a blessing to his family and a useful member of society, he too frequently drags out a wretched life, in ignorance and penury, dividing it between the poor-house and jail, and terminating it, peradventure, upon the gallows. it needs the pen of a ready writer duly to portray the influence of neglected school-houses. parents seem to have forgotten that, _while men sleep, the enemy comes and sows tares_; that if good school-houses do not _elevate_, neglected ones will _pollute_ their children. i have already alluded, in the language of others, to the representations of vulgarity and obscenity that meet the eye in every direction. but i am constrained to add, that, during the intermissions, and before school, "certain lewd fellows of the baser sort" sometimes lecture in the hearing of the school generally, boys and girls, large and small, illustrating their subject by these vulgar delineations. but why are these things so? and how may they be remedied? different persons will answer these questions variously. but when we bear in mind that, in architectural appearance, school-houses have very generally more resembled barns, sheds for cattle, or mechanic shops, than temples of science; that windows are broken; that benches are mutilated; that desks are cut up; that wood is unprovided; that out-buildings are neglected; that obscene images and vulgar delineations meet the eye within and without; that, in fine, their very appearance is so contemptible, that scholars feel themselves degraded in being obliged to occupy them; when we bear in mind all these things, and then consider that the impressive minds of children are necessarily and permanently affected by scenes with which they become familiar, we can not wonder that they yield themselves to such influences, and consent to increase their degradation by multiplying the abominations with which they are surrounded. and especially shall we cease to wonder at the existence of these things, when we consider that scholars are very often unfurnished with suitable employment; that the younger scholars are frequently urged on by the example and influence of the older ones; and that teachers are sometimes employed who are so far lost to shame as to countenance these disgusting and corrupting practices by engaging in them themselves! a knowledge of the cause suggests the remedy. let, then, the school-house be commodious and cleanly; inviting in its appearance, and elevating in its influence. let every member of the school, at all times, be furnished with entertaining and profitable employment. let the corrupting influence of bad example be at once and forever removed. and, finally, let the services of a well-qualified teacher, of good morals, correct example, and who is scrupulously watchful, be invariably secured. but if the mean appearance of our school-houses is one reason why they are so defaced, it may be asked, why do not our _churches_, which are frequently among the most elegant specimens of architecture, escape the pollution? the reason is evident. the foul _habit_ is contracted in the unseemly school-house, and it becomes so established that it is very difficult to suspend its exercise even in the temple of god. were our school-houses, in point of neatness and architecture, equal to our churches, the evil in question would soon become less prevalent, and, with judicious supervision, we might safely predict its early extinction. i would not suggest that too much pains are taken to make our churches pleasant and comfortable, but i do protest that there is a great and unwise disproportion in the appearance of our churches and school-houses. it is frequently the case in villages and country neighborhoods, that the expense of the former is from fifty to eighty times the value of the latter. the _appearance_ of our school-houses is an important consideration. if we would cultivate the _beastly_ propensities of our youth, we have but to provide them places of instruction resembling the _hovels_ which our cattle occupy, and the work is well begun. on the contrary, if we would take into the account the whole duration of our being, and the cultivation and right development of the nobler faculties of our nature, while the animal propensities are allowed to remain in a quiescent state, and _adapt means to ends_, our school-houses should be pleasant and tasteful. every thing offensive should be separated from them, and no pains should be spared to give them an inviting aspect and an elevating influence. it is easier to make children good than to reform wicked men. it is cheaper to construct commodious school-houses, with pleasant yards and suitable appurtenances, than to erect numerous jails and extensive prisons. george b. emerson, in a lecture on moral education, speaks to the point. "in regard to the lower animal propensities," says he, "the only safe principle is, that nothing should be allowed which has a tendency, directly or indirectly, to excite them. in many places there prevails an alarming and criminal indifference upon this point. it is one toward which the attention of the teacher should be carefully directed. no sound should be suffered from the lips; no word, or figure, or mark should be allowed to reach the eyes, to deface the wall of the house or out-house, which could give offense to the most sensitive delicacy. this is the teacher's business. he must not be indifferent to it. he has no right to neglect it. he can not transfer it to another. he, and he only, is responsible.[ ] it is impossible to be over-scrupulous in this matter. and the committee should see that the teacher does his duty; otherwise all his lessons in duty are of no avail, and the school, instead of being a source of purity, delicacy, and refinement, becomes a fountain of corruption, throwing out poisonous waters, and rendering the moral influence more pestiferous than that fabled fountain of old, over which no creature of heaven could fly and escape death." [ ] i would by no means free parents from responsibility in this matter. they, if any class, may be said to be "alone responsible;" but, in fact, all who are intrusted with the care of children share in the responsibility. _secret vice_, in the opinion of those who have had occasion to remark the extent to which it is practiced, from colleges and the higher seminaries of learning down to the common school, and even in the nursery before the child is sent to school, prevails to an alarming extent. it is often the principal, and, in many instances, the sole cause of a host of evils that are commonly attributed to hard study, among which are impaired nutrition, and general lassitude and weakness, especially of the loins and back; loss of memory, dullness of apprehension, and both indisposition and incapacity for study; dizziness, affections of the eyes, headaches, etc., etc. secret vice in childhood and youth is also a fruitful source of _social vice_ later in life, and of excesses even within the pale of wedlock, ruinous alike to the parties themselves and to their offspring. licentiousness in some of its forms, as we have frequently had occasion to see, from the highest testimony introduced into the text in various passages, in addition to the evils here referred to, sometimes leads to the most driveling idiocy, and to insanity in its worst forms. all, then, who have the charge of children, and especially parents and teachers, should exercise a rational familiarity with them on this delicate but important subject. they should give them timely counsel in relation to the temptations to which they may be exposed, apprise them of the evils that follow in the train of disobedience, and endeavor, by kindly advice and friendly admonition, to infix in their minds a delicate sense of honor, an abhorrence for this whole class of vice, and a determination never to entertain a thought of indulging the appetite for sex except within the pale of wedlock, and in accordance with god's own appointment. in conclusion, on this subject, i would say, if there is one house in the district more pleasantly located, more comfortably constructed, better warmed, and more inviting in its general appearance, and more elevating in its influence than any other, that house should be the school-house. * * * * * well-qualified teachers should be employed. all the provisions heretofore described would be of none effect if we took no pains to procure for the public school thus constituted an able master, and worthy of the high vocation of instructing the people. it can not be too often repeated, that it is the master that makes the school.--guizot. society can never feel the power of education until it calls into exercise a class of effective educators.--lalor. one of the surest signs of the regeneration of society will be the elevation of the art of teaching to the highest rank in the community.--channing. we come next to the consideration of _school teachers_; for, in order to have good schools, we want not merely good school-houses. these, as already seen, are of the utmost importance; but, to insure success, _we must have good teachers in those houses_. and here, were i addressing myself exclusively to the members of this profession, it would be appropriate to dwell in detail upon the requisite qualifications of teachers. but this would be foreign from my present design.[ ] [ ] among the many excellent works already before the public, i would name the following, which the practical teacher may profitably consult: the school and the schoolmaster, by dr. potter and g. b. emerson; theory and practice of teaching, by d. p. page; the school teacher's manual, by henry dunn; the teacher, by jacob abbott; the teacher's manual, by thomas h. palmer; the teacher taught, by emerson davis; slate and black-board exercises, by wm. a. alcott; lectures on education, by horace mann; corporal punishment, by lyman cobb; confessions of a schoolmaster, by wm. a. alcott; the teacher's institute, by wm. b. fowle; the true relation of the sexes, by john ware. these are also useful to parents. a more extended list, with tables of contents, may be found in barnard's school architecture, p. to . it has not been my intention in any thing i have yet said, nor will it be in any thing i may hereafter urge, to overlook the importance of domestic education. napoleon once said to an accomplished french lady that the old systems of education were good for nothing, and inquired what was wanting for the proper training of young persons in france. with keen discernment and great truth, she replied, in one word--mothers. this reply forcibly impressed the emperor, and he exclaimed, "behold an entire system of education! you must make _mothers_ that know how to train their children." i may add, we want mothers not only, but _fathers_ too, qualified for the great work of training their offspring aright; for parents are readily admitted to be the natural educators of their children. but the literary training of children has always been accomplished chiefly by delegation; and not only the literary, but, to a great extent, the moral and religious. this course has been adopted on account of the situation of families; many parents being unable to teach their children themselves, and others lacking the necessary leisure to carry forward a systematic and thorough course of instruction. this course is dictated by policy; for the children of a whole neighborhood may be better taught, and at less expense, in good schools, than in their respective families. this course has also been adopted as a matter of necessity; for the greatness of the work of education requires, in order to carry it forward successfully, that it should be studied as a profession. the teacher then engages jointly with the parent in the work of education, and with him shares its toils, its responsibilities, and its delights. from the greatness of the teacher's work, as we have already considered it--training, as he should, his youthful charge for respectability, usefulness, and happiness in this life, and for everlasting felicity in that which is to come--we may infer what should be his qualifications. and we remark, in the general, that the business of _school teaching should rank among the learned professions._ the teacher should well understand the nature of the subjects of education, as physical, intellectual, and moral beings. the education of children can not safely be intrusted to persons who are not practically acquainted with human physiology, and with mental science as based thereon. the most serious physical evils frequently result from allowing incompetent persons to exercise the functions of this high and responsible vocation. in addition to a thorough knowledge of all the branches in which a teacher is expected to give instruction, and an acquaintance with those collateral branches that have a bearing upon them, the instructor of youth should possess the rare attainment of _aptness to teach_. it will be of little avail if the teacher has become familiar with all wisdom, unless he can readily communicate instruction to others. paul, in speaking of the qualifications of bishops, says, among other things, they should be "apt to teach." this attainment is no less important for schoolmasters than for bishops. it is especially important that the teacher should be well acquainted with intellectual philosophy and moral science. this is necessary, in order to enable him to judge correctly of character, and to teach, and govern, and train his charge aright. but these attainments can never be made until teaching is elevated to the rank of a profession. the lawyer is required to devote a series of years to a regular course of classical study and professional reading before he can find employment in a case in which a few dollars only are pending. with this we find no fault. but it should not be forgotten that the teacher's calling is as much more important than the ordinary exercise of the legal profession, as the imperishable riches of mind are more valuable than the corruptible treasures of earth. we seek out from among us men of sound discretion and good report to enact laws for the government of the state and nation. and with this, too, we find no fault. it is right and proper that we should do so. but it should be borne in mind that it is the teacher's high prerogative not only so to instruct and train the rising generation that they shall rightly understand law, but to infix in their minds the principles of justice and equity, the attainment of which is the high aim of legislation. while our legislators enact laws for the government of the people, the well-qualified and faithful schoolmaster prepares those under his charge to govern themselves. without the teacher's conservative influence, under the best legislation, the great mass of the people will be lawless; while the tendency of his labors is to qualify the rising generation, who constitute our future freemen and our country's hope, to render an enlightened, a cheerful, and a ready obedience to the high claims of civil law. the well-qualified, faithful teacher, then, becomes the right arm of the legislator. the physician is required to become thoroughly acquainted with the anatomy and physiology of the human body; in a word, to become acquainted with "the house i live in;" to understand the diseases to which we are subject, and their proper treatment, before he is allowed to extract a tooth, to open a vein, or administer the simplest medicine. nor with this do we find fault, for we justly prize the body. it is the habitation of the immortal mind. when in health, it is the mind's servant, and ready to do its biddings; but darken its windows by disease, and it becomes the mind's prison-house. but while the physician, whom we honor and love, is required to make these attainments before he is permitted _even to repair_ "the house i live in," should not he who teaches the master of the house be entitled to a respectable rank in society? it is common, in the various branches of the church universal, for men who feel themselves called of god to preach the gospel to obtain a collegiate education, and then devote several years to professional study, before exercising the functions of the sacred office; and this has been required by popular opinion. and heretofore, i may add, the efforts of the minister have been directed chiefly to the _reformation of adults_ whose early training has been imperfectly attended to, and to the building up of a religious character where no correct early foundation has been laid, when the time and energies of a people upon whom labor is bestowed are devoted chiefly to absorbing secular pursuits. the competent and faithful teacher, on the contrary, enters upon the discharge of his duties under circumstances widely different, and with infinitely better prospects of success. jesus said, _suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not; for of such is the kingdom of god_. these are they upon whom the teacher is called to bestow labor. he remembers that solomon the wise has said, _train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it_; and he confidently expects that, with proper parental co-operation, if he faithfully discharges his duty, and directs his efforts in accordance with the will of the great teacher, his youthful charge, when arrived at the years of accountability, and in all future life, will be like "the child samuel, who grew on, and was in favor both with the lord and also with men." no wonder, then, that channing should say, "one of the surest signs of the regeneration of society will be _the elevation of teaching to the highest rank in the community_." the clerical profession can never equal that of the teacher in moral sublimity and prospective usefulness until religious teachers come to direct their attention chiefly to the correct early education of the young in the sabbath-schools, but more especially in the common schools of our country. then, and not till then, will it be entitled to the pre-eminence. should any teacher, in view of the immense responsibilities of his calling, be disposed to inquire, as all well may, _who is sufficient for these things?_ we would say to him, in the language of wirt, "let your motto be _perseverando vinces_--by perseverance thou wilt overcome. practice upon it, and you will be convinced of its value by the distinguished pre-eminence to which it will lead you." especially will this be true in case the anxious teacher faithfully complies with the divine direction, _if any man lack wisdom, let him ask of god, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him_. parents and citizens generally should be impressed with the truth of the maxim, "as is the teacher, so will be the school." they should desire for their own children, and for all others, teachers whose intellectual, social, and moral habits are, in all respects, what they are willing their children should form. they should, at least, be well apprised of this fact: if the teacher is not, in these respects, what they would have their children become, their children will be likely to become _what the teacher is_. there is a story of a german schoolmaster, which shows the low notions that may be entertained of education. stouber, the predecessor of oberlin, the pastor of waldbach, on his arrival at the place, desired to be shown to the principal school-house. he was conducted into a miserable cottage, where a number of children were crowded together, without any occupation. he inquired for the master. "there he is," said one, as soon as silence could be obtained, pointing to a withered old man, who lay on a little bed in one corner. "are you the master, my friend?" asked stouber. "yes, sir." "and what do you teach the children?" "nothing, sir." "nothing! how is that?" "because," replied the old man, "i know nothing myself." "why, then, were you appointed the schoolmaster?" "why, sir, i had been taking care of the waldbach pigs a number of years, and when i got too old and infirm for that employment, they sent me here to take care of the children." this anecdote may evince a degree of stupidity not to be met with in this country. we are, however, very far from being as careful in the selection of teachers as we ought to be. unworthy teachers frequently find employment. i refer not to teachers whose literary qualifications are insufficient, although, as we have already seen, there are quite too many such. i refer now more particularly to those who are disqualified for the office because of moral obliquity. teachers are sometimes employed who are habitual sabbath breakers; who are accustomed to the use of vulgar and profane language; who frequent the gambling table; who habitually use tobacco, in several of its forms, and that in the school-house! nay, more, who even teach the despicable habit to their children during school hours! several emperors have prohibited the use of this filthy weed in their respective kingdoms, under the severest penalties. the pope has made a bull to excommunicate all those who use tobacco in the churches. one of the most numerous of the protestant sects once prohibited the use of tobacco in their society; but so strong is this filthy habit, especially when formed in early life, that this society has backslidden and given up this excellent rule. since writing the above, i have noticed an article headed "tobacco-using ministers," which has appeared in several highly-reputable and widely-circulating periodicals, from which it appears that a large annual conference of divines of the same order, among other resolutions, have adopted one recommending "that the ministers refrain from the use of tobacco in all its forms, especially in the house of worship." in commenting upon this action, a religious paper observes, that "by 'tobacco in all its forms' we suppose is meant chewing, smoking, and snuffing. but can it be possible that a minister, whose duty it is to recommend purity, and whose example should be cleanliness, can need conference resolutions to dissuade him from a practice so filthy and disgusting? and do they even carry this inconsistency into the 'house of worship?' so it seems!" but such is the severity of the strictures in the article referred to, that, although just, i forbear inserting them. it has been suggested that, while robinson crusoe was alone on his island, he may have had a right to smoke, snuff, or chew; but that, when his man friday came, "a decent regard for the opinions of mankind"--as the declaration of independence has it--should have debarred him at once from further indulgence. one who has enjoyed large opportunities of observing, and who is scrupulous to a proverb, has remarked, that "the ministerial profession is probably the most offending in this particular. the scriptures have much to say about keeping the _body_ pure. had tobacco been known to the hebrews, who can doubt that it would have been among the articles prohibited by the levitical law? st. paul beseeches the romans, by the mercies of god, to present their _bodies_ 'a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable.' to the corinthians he says, 'know ye not that ye are the temple of god, and that the spirit of god dwelleth in you? if any man defile the temple of god, him will god destroy; for the temple of god is holy, _which temple ye are_.' he commands them to glorify god in their _body_ as well as in their spirit; for 'know ye not,' says he, 'that your _body_ is the temple of the holy ghost? what sort of a 'temple of the holy ghost' is he, every atom and molecule of whose physical system is saturated and stenched with the vile fetor of tobacco; whose every vesicle is distended by its foul gases; whose brain and marrow are begrimed and blackened with its sooty vapors and effluxions; all whose pores jet forth its malignant stream like so many hydrants; whose prayers are breathed out, not with a _sweet_, but with a _foul_-smelling savor; who baptizes infants with a hand which itself needs literal baptism and purification as by fire; and who carries to the bed-side of the dying an odor which, if the 'immaterial essence' could be infected by any earthly virus, would subject the departed soul to quarantine before it could enter the gates of heaven?"[ ] [ ] a female teacher in the bay state, in , addressed the following inquiry through the columns of the massachusetts common school journal: "i have been laboring for the last year in a large school, and have endeavored, according to the best of my ability, to inculcate habits of neatness among the pupils, especially to break them of the filthy habit of spitting upon the floor. i have often told them _gentlemen_ never do it. but at a recent visit of the committee, an individual, who has been elected by the town to superintend the educational interests of the rising generation, _spit_ the dirty juice of his _tobacco_ quid upon the floor of my school-room with apparent self-complacency. "shall i say to the children that this person is _not_ a _gentleman_, and thus destroy his influence? or shall i pass it over in silence, and thus leave them to draw the natural inference that all i have said on the subject is only a woman's whim?" mr. mann, the editor, gave a full reply through the journal, from which i have here quoted part of a paragraph. he closes by offering a prize of the "eternal gratitude of all decent men" to the discoverer of a remedy or antidote for the evil. "touch not, taste not, handle not," is the only safe rule in relation to all vicious practices; and especially is it true of this habit, which we can not call _beastly_, for there is not a _natural_ beast in creation that indulges in it. i therefore congratulate my countrymen in view of the prospect before us of ultimately being freed from this disgusting and filthy habit, for the board of education in some of our cities have already wisely adopted the rule of employing no teachers who use tobacco in any form. let this rule become universal among us, and the next generation will be comparatively free from the use of that repulsive weed, which only one of all created beings takes to naturally. wherever else the filthy practice may be allowed, it ought never to be permitted in a house consecrated to the sacred work of educating the rising generation. and just look at the immense expenditure in this country for the support of this pernicious habit. it is said, on good authority, that for _smoking_ merely we pay annually a tax of ten millions of dollars, which is a much greater sum than is paid to the teachers of all the public schools in the united states. but to return: teachers are sometimes employed who are addicted to inebriety; who are notorious libertines, and unblushingly boast of the number of their victims. but i will not extend this dark catalogue. comment is unnecessary. my fellow-countrymen, who have carefully perused and properly weighed the preceding considerations, i doubt not, will concur with me in the opinion that there is no station in life--no, not excepting even the clerical office, that, in order to be well filled, so much demands purity of heart, simplicity of life, christian courtesy, and every thing that will ennoble man, and beautify and give dignity to the human character, as that of the primary school-teacher. he influences his pupils in the formation of habits and character, by precept, it is true, but chiefly by example. his example, then, should be such, that, if strictly followed by his pupils, it will lead them aright in all things, astray in nothing. it should be his chief concern to allure to brighter worlds on high, and himself lead the way. then, and not till then, will he be prepared to magnify and fill his office. but, it may be said, we have not a sufficiency of well-qualified teachers, according to this standard, to take the charge of all, or of any considerable part of our schools. this is very readily admitted. some such, however, there are. these should be employed. their influence will be felt by others. the present generation of teachers may be much improved by means of teachers' associations and teachers' institutes. by the establishment of normal schools, or teachers' seminaries, a higher grade of teachers may be trained up and qualified to take the charge of the next generation of scholars. these institutions have been established in several of the european states, in new england and new york, and more recently in michigan, by the several state legislatures, and to some extent in other states. "those seminaries for training masters," says lord brougham, "are an invaluable gift to mankind, and lead to the indefinite improvement of education." in remarking upon their advantages, the same high authority says, "these training seminaries would not only teach the masters the branches of learning and science they are now deficient in, but would teach them what they know far less--the didactic art--the mode of imparting the knowledge which they have or may acquire; the best mode of training and dealing with children in all that regards both temper, capacity, and habits, and the means of stirring them to exertion, and controlling their aberrations." _normal schools are essential_ to the complete success of any system of popular education. the necessity for their establishment can not fail to be apparent to any one at all competent to judge, when he considers the early age at which young persons of both sexes generally enter upon the business of school-teaching--or, perhaps i may more appropriately say, of "keeping" school; for the majority of them can hardly be regarded as competent to _teach_. for the purpose of being more specific, and of impressing, if possible, upon the mind of the reader, the necessity of professional instruction, the author trusts he will be pardoned for introducing a few paragraphs from a report made nine years ago as county superintendent of common schools in the state of new york and which was printed at that time in the assembly documents of that state. the author, at the time referred to, exercised a general supervision over more than twenty thousand children, aided in the examination of the teachers of twenty large townships, and visited and inspected their schools. nine years' additional experience--four of which have been devoted to the supervision of the schools of a large state, and a considerable portion of the remaining time to the visitation of schools in different states--has convinced him that the condition of common schools, and the qualifications of teachers in those states of the union where increased attention has not been bestowed upon the subject within a few years past, are not in advance of what they were at that time in the county referred to. the paragraphs introduced are included within brackets. [literary qualifications.--some of the teachers possess a very limited knowledge of the branches usually taught in our common schools. this is true even of a portion of those who have bestowed considerable attention upon some of the higher branches of study. there is in our common schools, and indeed in our higher schools, an undue anxiety to advance rapidly. a score of persons may be heard speaking of the number of their recitations, of their rapid progress, and perhaps of skipping difficulties, while hardly _one_ will speak of progressing _understandingly_, and comprehending _every principle_ as he proceeds. when students speak of their progress in study, their first qualifying word should be _thorough_, after which, if they please, they may add _rapid_. the following circumstances, that have occurred in classes of both ladies and gentlemen who have presented themselves for examination as candidates for teaching, illustrate the nature and extent of the evil. i have more than once received, in answer to the question "what is language?" the following reply: "language is an _unlimited sense_." i have met with some experienced teachers, holding two or three town certificates, who did not know one half of the marks and pauses used in writing. they could, indeed, generally recite the answers in the spelling-book with some degree of accuracy; but when the marks have been pointed out, and their names and use have been asked, teachers _in service_ have sometimes mistaken the note of _interrogation_ for a _parenthesis_, and made other as gross errors. in answer to the question "what is arithmetic?" i have several times received the following reply: "it is the _art of science_," etc. sometimes this constitutes the entire reply. in one instance _four fifths_ of the class united in this answer. the terms sum, remainder, product, and quotient are frequently applied indiscriminately in the four ground rules of arithmetic. there are, hence, three chances for them to be used erroneously where there is one chance for them to be correctly applied. the following expressions are common: _add_ up and set down the _remainder_; _subtract_ and set down the _quotient_; _multiply_ and write down the _sum_; _divide_ and write down the _product_, etc.: never so much as thinking that sum belongs to addition; remainder, to subtraction; product, to multiplication; and quotient, to division. in attending the examination of such teachers, any person of discernment will soon become satisfied that with them "language is an unlimited sense;" that "arithmetic is the art _of_ science;" and that grammar, too, is "the art of science;" for the same answer has been given to the question, "what is grammar?" i introduce these things, not for the purpose of ridiculing any portion of our teachers, but to exemplify the extent of the evil under consideration. the majority of teachers manifest a tolerable familiarity with the branches usually taught in our common schools. they have not, however, generally studied more than one author on the same subject. a portion of our teachers, it gives me pleasure to add, are not only superior scholars in the common english branches, but they have made respectable attainments in philosophy, astronomy, chemistry, algebra, latin, etc. all of these branches are successfully taught in a few of our schools. school government.--there is, perhaps, as wide a difference in the administration of government in our common schools as in any other particular connected with them. good government requires the healthful exercise of a rare combination of good qualities. but this can not reasonably be expected in inexperienced youth, who, instead of being guided by enlightened moral sentiment, have not only never subjected _themselves_ to government, but are totally unacquainted with the principles upon which it should be administered. about one third of our schools are tolerably well governed. a portion of them are under a wise and parental supervision, the government being uniformly mild, and at the same time efficient. but indecision, rashness, and inefficiency are far more common. sometimes teachers resolve to have no whispering, leaving seats, asking questions, etc., among any of the scholars, and severely punish every detected offender. soon a portion of the patrons justly manifest dissatisfaction. then all attempts to govern the school are unwisely given up. many teachers thus rashly fly from one extreme of government to the other, without stopping to test the "golden mean," or even appearing to bestow a single thought upon the subject. again: the feelings of the teacher have been outraged by having frequently witnessed severity, and even cruelty, in government; and, in studiously avoiding them, he has inadvertently adopted a lax government, if government it may be called. the latter may be the more amiable extreme, but it is hardly the less fatal. i have heard scholars say in the presence of such a teacher, "we have a good teacher, who gives us all the good advice we need, and then lets us do as we please;" and then i have witnessed whispering, talking, chewing gum and throwing it about the house, passing from seat to seat, playing with tops and whirls, tossing wads of wet paper about the house and to the ceiling, cutting images upon the desks, imitating the practice of botanic physicians, exhibiting and passing from one to another roots and herbs, and discoursing upon their properties, chasing mice about the house, and in some instances slaying them, and practicing sundry other antics too numerous to be mentioned. good advice was freely given, but it was disregarded with impunity. government in school, as elsewhere, should be mild but efficient. the teacher should speak kindly, but with authority. every request should meet with a ready compliance. the scholars will not only fear to disobey such a teacher, but will, at the same time, respect, and even love him. this is not only good theory, but is susceptible of being reduced to practice. it is, indeed, exemplified in many of our schools, as a visit to them will clearly manifest. i know of no one thing in school government more mischievous in its tendency than the habit of speaking several times without being obeyed. mode of instruction.--in some schools the instruction is thorough and systematic. in them the scholars generally learn _principles_, and understand, and are able to explain, all that they pass over. but this is the case in comparatively few schools. scholars generally are poorly instructed, and understand very imperfectly what they profess to have learned. i will give a few illustrations: _first._ scholars are frequently introduced to the twenty-six letters of the alphabet four times a day for several weeks in succession, without making a single acquaintance. they occasionally become so familiar with their names and order as to repeat them down and back, as well without the book as with it, before learning a single letter. this method of instruction is as unphilosophical as it is unsuccessful. were i to be introduced to twenty-six strangers, and were my introducer to pronounce their names in rapid succession down and back, giving me merely an opportunity of pronouncing them after him, i should hardly expect to form a _single acquaintance with twenty-six introductions_. but were he to introduce me to one, and give me an opportunity of shaking hands with him, of conversing with him, of observing his features, etc.; and were he then to introduce me to another, in like manner, with the privilege of shaking hands again with the first, before my introduction to the third; and were he thus to introduce me to them all successively, i might form _twenty-six acquaintances with one introduction_. the application is readily made. introduce the abecedarian to but _one_ letter at first. describe it to him familiarly. fix its contour distinctly in his mind. compare it with things with which he is acquainted, if it will admit of such comparison. it might be well to make the letter upon a slate or black-board. when he shall have become acquainted with _one_ letter so as to know it any where, introduce him to another. after he becomes acquainted with the second, let him again point out the first. as he learns new letters, he will thus retain a knowledge of those he has previously learned. it is immaterial where we commence, provided two conditions are fulfilled. it would be well to have the first letters as simple in their construction, and as easily described, as possible. it would be well, also, to have them so selected as to combine and form simple words, with which the child is familiar. he will thus become encouraged in his first efforts. suppose we commence with o, and tell the child that it is _round_; that it is shaped like the _button_ on his coat, or like a _penny_, which might be shown to him. after the child has become somewhat familiar with its _shape_ and _name_, suppose we inquire what there was on the breakfast table shaped like o. it may be necessary to name a few articles, as knives, forks, spoons, plates. before there is time to proceed further, the child, in nine cases out of ten, will say, "the _plates_ look like o." suppose we next take x, which may be represented by crossing the fore-fingers, or two little sticks. we can now teach the child that these two letters, combined, spell _ox_. we might then tell him a familiar story about _oxen_; that we put a _yoke_ on them; that they draw the cart, etc.; and that _cart-wheels_ are _great_ o's. suppose we take b next. we might tell the child that it is a straight line with two bows on the right side of it, and that it is shaped some like the _ox-yoke_. we might then instruct him that these three letters, b, o, and x, combined, spell _box_; that its top and sides are rectangles, and that its ends are squares, if they are so. the child has now learned three letters, two words, and a score of ideas. he, moreover, likes to go to school. any other method in which children would be equally interested might be pursued instead of this, which is only introduced as a _specimen_ of the manner in which the alphabet has been successfully taught.[ ] better methods may be devised. [ ] since these suggestions were first given to the public, several excellent books for children have been published, constructed on a similar plan to that here recommended. it will generally be found advantageous to teach the vowels first, and then to teach such consonants as combine with the _long sound_ of the vowel; as, for example, first o; then g, h, l, n, and s, when the child can read go, ho, lo, no, and so. after this, e may be learned, and then b, m, and s, when the child can read be, bee, me, and see. then these may be combined as see me; lo, see me; see me ho; lo, see me ho, etc. the idea is, that every letter and combination of letters be used as fast they are learned. _second._ the roman notation table is sometimes taught after the same manner. after spelling, i have heard the teacher say to the class, one i.? to which the scholar at the head would reply, one; and the exercise would continue through the class, as follows: two i.'s? two; three i.'s? three; iv.? four; and so on, to two x.'s? twenty; three x.'s? twenty-one. no, says the teacher, _thirty_. thus corrected, the class went through the entire table, without making another mistake. the thought occurred to me that they did not _know_ their lesson, though they had _recited_ it, making but _one_ mistake. with the permission of the teacher, i inquired of the class, "what does iv. stand for?" none of them could tell. i then inquired, "what do vii. stand for?" they all shook their heads. i next inquired, "what does ix. stand for?" and the teacher remarked, "_they have just got it learnt the other way; they ha'n't learnt it that way yet._" they had all learned to _count_; they hence recited correctly to twenty; and when told that three x.'s stand for _thirty_ instead of _twenty-one_, they passed on readily to forty, fifty, sixty, etc., without making another mistake. and this, too, is but a _specimen_ of the evil. in teaching this table, the child should be instructed, in the beginning, that there are but seven letters used, by which all numbers may be represented; that when standing alone, i. represents _one_; v., _five_; x., _ten_; l., _fifty_; c, _one hundred_; d., _five hundred_; and m., _one thousand_. the child should next be taught that, as often as a letter is repeated, so many times its _value_ is repeated; thus, x. represents _ten_; two x.'s, _twenty_; three x.'s, _thirty_, etc.; that when a letter representing a _less_ number is placed _after_ one representing a _greater_, its value is to be _added_; thus, vii. represent _seven_; lx., _sixty_, etc.; that when a letter representing a _less_ number is placed _before_ one representing a _greater_, its value is to be _subtracted_; thus, iv. represents _four_; ix., _nine_; xl., _forty_, etc. when the child understands what is here presented, he has the key to the whole matter. he is acquainted with the principle upon which the tables are constructed, and a little practice will enable him to apply it, as well to what is _not_ in the table as to what _is_ in it. i have known scholars study that table faithfully _four months_, and then have but an imperfect knowledge of what was _in the book_. i have known others who, with _one hour's_ study, after _five minutes'_ instruction in the principles here laid down, understood the table perfectly, and could recite it, without making a single mistake, even before they had studied the whole of it _once over_. _third._ the manner in which _reading_ is generally taught is hardly superior to the modes of instruction already considered. in many instances, commendable effort is made to secure correct pronunciation, and a proper observance of the inflections and pauses. but there is a great lack in _understanding_ what is read. when visiting schools, with the permission of the teacher, i usually interrogate reading classes with reference to the meaning of what they have read. occasionally i receive answers that give satisfactory evidences of correct instruction. generally, however, the scholars have no distinct idea concerning the author's meaning. they, astonished, sometimes say, "i didn't know as the _meaning_ has any thing to do with reading; i try to pronounce the words right, and mind the stops." teachers sometimes say their scholars are poor readers, and it takes all their attention to pronounce their words correctly. they therefore do not wish to have them _try_ to _understand_ what they read, thinking it would be a hinderance to them. they occasionally justify themselves in the course they pursue, saying, "i don't have time to question my classes on their reading, nor hardly time to look over and correct mistakes." at the same time they will read three or four times around, twice a day or oftener. the idea prevails extensively, judging from the practice of teachers, that the value of their services depends upon the extent of the various exercises of the school. if the classes can read several times around, twice a day, and spell two or three pages, teachers frequently think they have done well, even though one half of the mistakes in reading are uncorrected, and one fourth or more of the words in the spelling lessons are misspelled, to say nothing of understanding what is read. the majority of schools might be very much improved by conducting them upon the principle that "what is worth doing at all is worth doing well." i am fully satisfied that it is incomparably better for classes to read _once_ around, _once_ a day, and _understand_ what they read, than to read _four_ times around, _four_ times a day, _without understanding_ their lessons. scholars should, indeed, never be allowed to read what is beyond their comprehension; and great pains should be taken to see that they actually understand every lesson, and every book read. the early formation of such a habit will be of incalculable value in after life. i will introduce one extract from my note-book by way of illustration. the reader will please observe that it relates to neither a back district nor an inexperienced teacher. "this is one of the oldest and most important districts in town. the school is taught by an experienced and highly-reputable teacher. the first class in the english reader read the section entitled '_the journey of a day; a picture of human life_.' obidah had been contemplating the beauties of nature, visiting cascades, viewing prospects, etc., and in these amusements the hours passed away uncounted, till 'day vanished from before him, and a sudden tempest gathered around his head;' when, it is said, 'he beheld through the brambles the _glimmer of a taper_.' i inquired of the class, 'what is a taper?' no one replied. i added, 'it is either the sun, a light, a house, or a man,' whereupon one replied, 'the sun;' another, 'a house;' another still, 'a house;' and still another, 'a man.' i next inquired, 'what does glimmer mean?' no reply being given, i added, 'it either means a light, the shadow, the top, or the bottom.' they then replied successively as follows: 'top, shadow, bottom,' which would give their several ideas of the phrase, 'the glimmer of a taper,' as follows: the shadow of a house. the top of a man. the bottom of the sun, etc. it should be borne in mind, the class had just read that this 'taper' was discovered after 'day had vanished from sight.'" this example is selected from among more than a hundred, scores of which are more striking illustrations than the one introduced, which is selected because it occurred in the first class of an important school, taught by an experienced and highly-reputable teacher. the habit of reading without understanding originates mainly in the circumstance that the books put into the hands of children are to them uninteresting. the style and matter are often above their comprehension. it is impossible, for example, for children at an early age to understand the english reader, a work which frequently constitutes their only reading-book (at least in school) when but seven years of age. the english reader is an _excellent book_, and would grace the library of any gentleman. but it requires a better knowledge of language, and more maturity of mind than is often possessed by children ten years old, to understand it, and to be interested in its perusal. hence its use induces the habit of "pronouncing the words and minding the stops," with hardly a single successful effort to arrive at the idea of the author. to this early-formed habit may be traced the prevailing indifference, and, in some instances, _aversion_ to reading, manifested not only in childhood, but in after life. the matter and style of the reading-book should be adapted to the capacity and taste of the learner. the teacher should see that it is well understood, and then it can hardly prove uninteresting, or be otherwise than well read. children should read less in school than they ordinarily do, and greater pains should be taken to have them understand every sentence, and word even, of what they do read. they will thus become more interested in their reading, and read much more extensively, not only while young, but in after life, and with incomparably more profit. _fourth._ i have heard several classes in geography bound states and counties with a considerable degree of accuracy, when none of them could point to the north, south, east, or west. indeed, a portion of them were not aware that these terms relate to the four cardinal points of the compass. still more: some of them say that "geography is a description of the earth," but they do not know as they ever _saw_ the earth. they have no idea that _they live upon it_. scholars in grammar frequently think that the only object of the study is to enable them to recite the definitions and rules, and to _parse_. they do not look for any assistance in thinking, speaking, or writing correctly, neither do they expect any aid therefrom in understanding what they read. classes in arithmetic not unfrequently think the principal object in pursuing that science is to be able to _do the sums_ according to the rule, and perhaps to _prove_ them. propose to them a practical question for solution, and their reply is, "that isn't in the arithmetic." some one more courageous may say, "if you'll tell me what rule it is in, i'll try it!" practical questions should be added by the teacher, till the class can readily apply the principles of each rule to the ordinary transactions of business in which they are requisite. generally, in grammar, arithmetic, and elsewhere, there is too much inquiry, _comparatively_, after the _how_, and too little after the _why_.] now if these paragraphs, descriptive of the condition of common schools and the qualifications of teachers at the commencement of the educational reform in new york, are applicable to those states of the union whose provisions for general education are not equal to what hers then were, nothing can be plainer than that there exists an imperative demand for the establishment of normal schools in every part of the union. massachusetts has three; but her provisions in this respect are not adequate to her necessities. union schools, and systems of graded schools in cities and villages, should possess a normal characteristic; that is, young men and women who have the requisite natural and acquired ability should be employed as assistants in the lower departments, and should sustain essentially the relation of _apprenticed teachers_, to be promoted or discontinued according as they shall prove themselves worthy or otherwise. in the public schools of the city of new york there are about two hundred teachers of this description. these and all the less experienced teachers meet at a stated time every week for the purpose of receiving normal instruction from a committee of teachers whose instructions are adapted to their wants. a similar feature has been adopted in other cities, and in many villages, and should become universal among us. in connection with the suggestions i have just introduced from a former report, i wish to say, i know of no reform which is more needed in our schools than that of rendering instruction at once _thorough_ and _practical_. the suggestion in the note on the th page, in relation to teaching the alphabet, will admit of general application. as fast as principles are learned, they should be applied. practical questions for the exercise of the student should be interspersed with the lessons in all our text-books, when the nature of the subject will admit of it. when these are not given by the author, they should be supplied by the teacher. i will illustrate by an example. several years ago a teacher had the charge of a class in natural philosophy. there were no questions in the text-book used for the exercise of the student, as here recommended. in treating upon the hydraulic press, the author said, in relation to the force to be obtained by its use, "if a pressure of two tons be given to a piston, the diameter of which is only a quarter of an inch, the force transmitted to the other piston, if three feet in diameter, would be upward of forty thousand tons." the teacher inquired of the class, how much upward of forty thousand tons would the pressure be? not one in a large class was prepared to answer the question. some of the scholars laughed outright at the idea of asking such a question. after a few familiar remarks by the teacher, the class was dismissed. this question, however, constituted a part of their review lesson. the next day found it solved by every member of the class. several of the scholars said to the teacher that they had derived more practical information in relation to natural philosophy from the solution of this one question, than they had previously acquired in studying it several quarters. in treating upon the velocity of falling bodies, such questions as the following might be asked: suppose a body in a vacuum falls sixteen feet the first second, how far will it fall the first three seconds? how far will it fall the next three seconds? how much further will it fall during the ninth second than in the fifth? if this paragraph should be read by any teacher or student of natural philosophy who has not been accustomed thus to apply principles, the author would suggest that it may be found pleasant and perhaps profitable to pause and solve these questions before reading further. the importance of reducing immediately to practice every thing that is learned, is no less essential in moral and religious education than in physical or intellectual. indeed, any thing short of this is jeoparding one's dearest interests; for "to him that knoweth to do good and doeth it not, to him it is sin." the practical educator should bear in mind that man is susceptible of progression in his moral and religious nature as well as in his physical and intellectual. "cease to do evil; learn to do well," is the divine command. he who does only the former has but a negative goodness. the practice of the latter is essential to the healthful condition of the soul. it is important that we seek earnestly to be "cleansed from secret faults." without this, our progress in excellence will at best be slow. while "the way of the wicked is as darkness, and they stumble at they know not what," it is nevertheless true that "the path of the just is as the shining light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day." understanding what we do of the nature of man, the subject of education, and knowing that "the fear of the lord is the beginning of wisdom," and that the great teacher, who "taught as one having authority," hath said, "seek ye first the kingdom of god and his righteousness," can we regard it any thing less than consummate folly to enter upon the work of education in the open neglect of these precepts? should we not rather cheerfully comply with them, and do what we can to encourage all teachers, and all who receive instruction, to regard this law of progression, so that, while their physical and intellectual natures are being cultivated and developed, they may not remain "babes" in the practice of morality and the christian virtues, but "grow in grace and in the knowledge of the lord and savior jesus christ?" we can not expect the student will excel his teacher, if indeed he equals him, in merely intellectual pursuits; much less can we reasonably look for superior attainments in morals and religion. if, then, the teacher would secure the most perfect obedience of his scholars from the highest motives, he must show them that he himself cheerfully and habitually complies, in heart and in life, with all the precepts of the great teacher, with whom is lodged all authority, and from whom he derives his. when the members of a school become convinced that their teacher habitually asks wisdom of the supreme educator, whose will he aims constantly to do, they will feel almost irresistibly urged to yield obedience to the precepts of christianity, and, with suitable encouragement, will take upon themselves the easy yoke of christ.[ ] [ ] in a former chapter, the necessity of moral and religious education was dwelt upon at length. the importance of the scriptures as a text-book, containing as they do the only perfect code of morals known to man, and the objections sometimes urged against their use, were duly considered. i wish here simply to add, that their exclusion from our schools would be even more sectarian than their perverted use; for the atheistical plan, which forbids the entrance of the bible into multitudes of our schools, under the pretense of excluding sectarianism, shuts out christianity, and establishes the influence of _a single sect_, that would dethrone the creator, and break up every bond of social order. even common arithmetic, when well taught, and illustrated by judiciously constructed examples, may be made not only more practical than it has usually been heretofore, but while the student is becoming acquainted with the science of numbers, it may be rendered an efficient instrumentality in showing the advantages of knowledge and virtue, and the expense and burden to the community of ignorance and crime, thus promoting the great work of moral culture, as is beautifully illustrated by the following examples, selected from a recent treatise on that subject: "in the town of bury, england, with an estimated population of twenty-five thousand, the expenditure for beer and spirits, in the year , was estimated at £ , . if this was per cent. of the entire loss, resulting from the waste of money, ill health, loss of labor, and the other evils attendant upon intoxication, what was the average loss from intemperance, for each man, woman, and child in the place, estimating the pound sterling at $ . . ans. $ , ." this one example may do more, in many instances, toward establishing young men who may be engaged in its solution in habits of total abstinence, than a score of lectures on temperance, or as many lessons on domestic or political economy. the following, also, may more effectually check existing abuses of some of the laws of health and longevity than a month's study of physiology and moral science: "it has been estimated that a man, in a properly ventilated room, can work twelve hours a day with no greater inconvenience than would be occasioned by ten hours' work in a room badly ventilated; and that, where there is proper ventilation, a man may gain ten years' good labor on account of unimpaired health. according to this estimate, what is the loss in thirty years to each individual in a badly-ventilated work-shop, valuing the labor at ten cents per hour? ans. $ ." what an astonishing result! five thousand and eight dollars moneyed loss to each individual who respires impure air, estimating labor at but ten cents an hour. now suppose this loss occurs only in the case of the eight hundred thousand voters in the united states who are unable to read and write--and it must accrue to a much greater number of persons--and _one fourth of the annual loss would be sufficient to maintain an efficient system of common schools in every state of the union the entire year_. it has sometimes been said, even by individuals occupying high stations in society, that persons of the second or third order of intellect make the best school-teachers. but in the light of what has been said, this statement needs but be made to prove its fallacy. in order properly to fill the teachers' office, we need men and women of the first order of intellect, brought to a high state of cultivation. a well-qualified and faithful school-teacher earns, and of right ought to receive, a salary equal to that paid to the clergyman, or received by the members of the other learned professions. he who can teach a good school can ordinarily engage with proportionate success in more lucrative pursuits. so true is this remark, that scarcely a man can be found that has attained to any considerable eminence as a teacher, who has not been repeatedly solicited, and perhaps strongly _tempted_, to relinquish teaching and engage in pursuits less laborious and more profitable. many yield to this temptation, and hence much of the best talent has been attracted to the other professions. school committees, however, can generally secure the services of teachers of any grade of qualifications they desire, upon the simple condition of offering an adequate remuneration. we have said, as is the teacher so will be the school. we might add, as are the wages, so ordinarily is the teacher. let it be understood that in any township, county, or state, a high order of teachers is called for, and that an adequate remuneration will be given, and the demand will be supplied. well-qualified teachers will be called in from abroad until competent ones can be trained up at home. here, as in other departments of labor, as is the demand, so will be the supply. the best means which citizens can employ to give character and stability to the vocation of the teacher is to select competent and worthy individuals to take the charge of their schools, and then pay them so liberally that they can have no pecuniary inducement to change their employment. let this be generally done, and teaching will soon be raised, in public estimation, to the rank of a learned profession; and the _fourth learned profession_--the vocation of the practical educator--will be taken up for life by as great a proportion of men and women eminent for talent, cultivation, and moral worth, as either of the other three professions have ever been able to boast. * * * * * schools should continue through the year. schools should be kept open at least ten full months during the year; in other words, _the entire year_, with the usual quarterly or semi-annual vacations.--_michigan school report._ it is not enough that good school-houses be provided and well-qualified teachers be employed. our schools should be kept open a sufficient length of time during the year to make their influence strongly and most favorably felt. the work of instruction, while it is going forward, should be the business of both teachers and scholars. if children are habituated to industry, to close application, to hard study, and to good personal, social, and moral habits during the period of their attendance upon school, these habits will be favorably felt in after life, in the development of characters whose possessors will be at once respectable and useful members of society, and a blessing to the age in which they live. on the contrary, if children are allowed to attend an indifferent school three months during the year, to work three months, to play three months, and are permitted to spend the remaining three months in idleness, the influence of this course will be felt, and it will be likely to give character to their future lives. under such circumstances, the good, if any, that children will receive while attending an indifferent school one fourth of the year, will be more than counterbalanced by the evil influences that surround them during the half of the year they devote to play and idleness. we can not reasonably expect that children brought up under such unfavorable and distracting influences will become even respectable members of society, much less that they will be a blessing to the generation in which they live. in villages and densely-settled neighborhoods schools should be kept open at least ten full months during the year; in other words, _the entire year_, with the usual quarterly or semi-annual vacations; and, if possible, they should not, under any circumstances, be continued less than eight months. and, i may add, the same teacher should be retained in the charge of a school, wherever practicable, from year to year. the teacher occupies, for the time being, the place of the parent. but what kind of government and discipline should we expect in a family where a new step-father or step-mother is introduced and invested with parental authority every six months, and where the children are left in orphanage half of the year! much more may we inquire, what kind of instruction and educational training may we reasonably expect in a large school whose wants are no better provided for! a school-teacher should be selected with as great care as the minister of the parish; and when selected, the services of the one should be continued as uninterruptedly and permanently as those of the other. then will be beautifully illustrated this interesting truth: it is easier, cheaper, and pleasanter incomparably, and infinitely more effectual, rightly to train the rising generation, than it is to reform men grown old in sin. lalor, in his prize essay on education, published ten years ago in london, has recorded a kindred sentiment in this very beautiful and highly-expressive language: "the schoolmaster alone, going forth with the power of intelligence and a moral purpose among the infant minds of the community, can stop the flood of vice and crime at its source, by repressing in childhood those wild passions which are its springs. nay, often will the mature mind, hard as adamant against the terrors of the law and the contempt of society, be softened to tears of penitence by the innocence of its educated child speaking unconscious reproof." * * * * * every child should attend school. the plan of this nation was not, and is not, to see how many _individuals_ we can raise up who shall be distinguished, but to see how high, by free schools and free institutions, we can raise the _great mass_ of population.--rev. john todd. i promised god that i would look upon every prussian peasant child as a being who could complain of me before god if i did not provide for him the best education, as a man and a christian, which it was possible for me to provide.--school-counselor dinter. good school-houses maybe built, well-qualified teachers may be employed, and schools may be kept open the entire year, but all this will not secure the correct education of the people, unless those schools are _patronized_; patronized, not by a few persons, not by one half, or three fourths even of a community, but by the _whole community_. as was said in a former chapter, there is no safety but in the education of the masses. a few vile persons will taint and infect a whole neighborhood. in the graphic language of the scriptures, _one sinner destroyeth much good_. the better portions of the community every where provide for the education of their children. if they are not instructed at home, they are sent to good schools, public or private, where their education is well looked after. unfortunately, those children whose education is most neglected at home are the very ones, usually, that are sent least to school, and when at all, to the poorest schools. but how shall the evil in question be remedied? how shall we secure the attendance of children generally at the schools, provided good ones are established? in the first place, diligent effort should be made to arouse the public mind to an appreciation of the importance and necessity of universal attendance. this will go far toward remedying the evil. it should be made every where unpopular, and be regarded as dishonorable in a member of our social compact, and unworthy of a citizen of a free state, to bring up a child without giving him such an education as shall fit him for the discharge of the duties of an american citizen. but there is a portion of almost every community who feel hardly able to allow their children the necessary time to pursue an extended course of common school education, and who are really unable to clothe them properly, furnish them with useful books, and pay their tuition. this class, although comparatively small, is not unimportant. the legal provisions made for such children vary in different states. wherever the free school principle is adopted, their tuition is of course provided for. this provision in some instances extends further. the statutes of michigan relating to primary schools make it the duty of the district board to exempt from the payment of teachers' wages not only, but from providing fuel for the use of the district, all such persons residing therein as in their opinion ought to be exempted, and to admit the children of such persons to the school free of charge not only, but the district board is authorized to purchase, _at the expense of the district_, such books as may be necessary for the use of children thus admitted by them to the district school. the entire expense incurred for tuition, fuel, and books, in such cases, is assumed by the district, and paid by a tax levied upon the property thereof. we have now arrived at an interesting crisis. we have exhausted the legal provision, generous as it is, and yet the blessing of universal education is not secured to those who will succeed us. good schools may every where be established, in which the wealthy, and those in comfortable circumstances, may educate their children. provision--yes, generous provision, though but just--has been made to meet the expense of tuition and books for the children of indigent parents. still, they may not sufficiently appreciate an education to send their children; or, if this be not so, they may keep them at home from motives of delicacy, being unable to clothe them decently. how shall such cases be met? how shall we actually bring such children into the peaceable possession and enjoyment of a good common school education, that rich legacy which noble-minded legislators have bequeathed to them, and which is the inalienable right of every son and daughter of this republic? legislation has already, in many of the states, done much--perhaps all that can be reasonably expected, at least, until a good common education shall be better appreciated by the community at large, and be ranked, as it ought to be, among the _necessaries of life_. the work, then, must be consummated chiefly by the united and well-directed efforts of benevolent and philanthropic individuals. _benevolent females_--and especially christian mothers, who have long been pre-eminently distinguished for their successful efforts in protecting the innocent, administering to the wants of the necessitous, and reclaiming the wanderer from the paths of vice--have felt the claims of this innocent and unoffending portion of the community, and have, in some instances, organized themselves into associations to meet those claims. benevolent and christian females can doubtless accomplish more, by visiting the poor and needy in their respective school districts, and making known unto them their privileges, and encouraging and assisting them, if need be, to avail themselves of these privileges, than by the same expenditure of time and means in any other way. they have long and very generally been accustomed to clothe the children of the destitute, and accompany them to the sunday-school, and there teach them those things which pertain to their present and everlasting well-being, and have thus accomplished incalculable good; but by co-operating with the civil authorities in securing the attendance of every child in their respective districts at the _improved common school_, they can hardly fail to accomplish vastly more. several associations have been formed for this noble purpose, and many children who, but for their fostering care, would have remained at their cheerless homes, have, by this labor of love, been sought out, properly cared for, and led to the common school, that fountain of intellectual life, and of social and moral culture, which is alike open to all. gentlemen should everywhere encourage the formation of such associations, and, when formed, should offer every facility in their power to increase their usefulness. clergymen might help forward such benevolent labors, where they are entered upon, by preaching occasionally from that good text, _help those women._ but there are two classes of our fellow-citizens--perhaps i should say fellow-beings--who, notwithstanding the abundant legal provisions to which i have referred, and the utmost that the benevolent and philanthropic can accomplish by voluntary effort, will utterly refuse to give their children such an education as we have been contemplating. these are, first, men in comfortable circumstances, who have so much blindness of mind, and such an utter disregard for the welfare of their offspring, as to deprive them of the advantages of even a common school education; and, secondly, those who have such an obduracy of heart as absolutely to refuse to allow their children to attend school, and who, although the abundant provisions of the law are made known unto them, in meekness and love, by "man's guardian angel," prove utterly incorrigible. such persons are unworthy to sustain the parental relation, and the safety of the community requires that the forfeiture be claimed, and that the right of control be transferred from such unnatural parents to the civil authorities; for, as kent says, "a parent who sends his son into the world uneducated, and without skill in any art or science, does a great injury to mankind as well as to his own family, for he defrauds the community of a useful citizen, and bequeaths to it a nuisance." how true is it that "the mobs, the riots, the burnings, the lynchings perpetrated by the _men_ of the present day, are perpetrated because of their vicious or defective education when _children_! we see and feel the havoc and the ravage of their tiger passions now, when they are full grown, but it was years ago that they were whelped and suckled." in the very expressive language of macaulay, the right to hang includes the right to educate. this is not a strange nor a new idea. it long ago entered into civil codes in the old world not only, but in the new. in prussia, when a parent refuses, without satisfactory excuse, to send his child to school the time required by law, he is cited before the court, tried, and, if he refuses compliance, the child is taken from him and sent to _school_, and the father to _prison_. similar laws were enacted and _enforced_ by our new england fathers more than two hundred years ago, which history informs us were attended with the most beneficial results.[ ] although their descendants of the present generation should blush for their degeneracy, still we should be encouraged from an increasing disposition of late to return to these salutary restraints and needful checks upon ignorance and crime. said the honorable josiah quincy, jr., late mayor of the city of boston, in his inaugural address, "i hold that the state has a right to compel parents to take advantage of the means of educating their children. if it can punish them for crime, it should surely have the power of preventing them from committing it, by giving them the habits and the education that are the surest safeguards." similar sentiments have been recently promulgated by the heads of the school departments of several states in their official reports, and by governors in their annual messages; and we have much reason for believing that the time is not distant when an enlightened public sentiment shall demand the re-enactment of these most salutary laws of our ancestors. [ ] the following paragraph is from the massachusetts colony laws of ; "forasmuch as the good education of children is of singular behoof and benefit to any commonwealth, and whereas many parents and masters are too indolent and negligent of their duty in that kind, it is ordered that the select-men of every town in the several precincts and quarters, where they dwell, shall have a vigilant eye over their brethren and neighbors, to see, first, that none of them shall suffer so much barbarism in any of their families as not to teach, by themselves or others, their children and apprentices so much learning as may enable them perfectly to read the english tongue, and knowledge of the capital laws, upon penalty of _twenty shillings_ for each neglect therein." compulsory attendance upon school.--since the preceding paragraphs were prepared for the printer, the author has received the statutes and resolves of the massachusetts legislature of , relating to education, which recognize the principle here contended for. each of the several cities and towns in that commonwealth is "authorized and empowered to make all needful provisions and arrangements concerning habitual truants, and children not attending school, without any regular and lawful occupation, growing up in ignorance, between the ages of six and fifteen years; and, also, all such ordinances and by-laws respecting such children as shall be deemed most conducive to their welfare and the good order of such city or town; and there shall be annexed to such ordinances suitable penalties, not exceeding, for any one breach, a fine of twenty dollars." it is made the duty of the "several cities and towns availing themselves of the provisions of this act, to appoint, at the annual meetings of said towns, or annually by the mayor and aldermen of said cities, three or more persons, who alone shall be authorized to make the complaints, in every case of violation of said ordinances or by-laws, to the justice of the peace, or other judicial officer, who, by said ordinances, shall have jurisdiction in the matter, which persons thus appointed shall alone have authority to carry into execution the judgments of said justices of the peace, or other judicial officer." it is further provided that "the said justices of the peace, or other judicial officer, shall, in all cases, at their discretion, in place of the fine aforesaid, be authorized to order children proved before them to be growing up in truancy, and without the benefit of the education provided for them by law, to be placed, for such periods of time as they may judge expedient, in such institution of instruction, or house of reformation, or other suitable situation, as may be assigned or provided for the purpose in each city or town availing itself of the powers herein granted." this principle has been incorporated into several municipal codes. children in the city of boston, under sixteen years of age, whose "parents are dead, or, if living, do, from vice, or any other cause, neglect to provide suitable employment for, or to exercise salutary control over" them, may be sent by the court to the house of reformation. by the late act, establishing the state reform school, male convicts under sixteen years of age may be sent to this school from any part of the commonwealth, to be there "instructed in piety and morality, and in such branches of useful knowledge as shall be adapted to their age and capacity." the inmates may be bound out; but, in executing this part of their duty, the trustees "shall have scrupulous regard to the religious and moral character of those to whom they are bound, to the end that they may secure to the boys the benefit of a good example, and wholesome instruction, and the sure means of improvement in virtue and knowledge, and thus the opportunity of becoming intelligent, moral, useful, and happy citizens of the commonwealth." the massachusetts state reform school is designed to be a "school for the instruction, reformation, and employment of juvenile offenders." any boy under sixteen years of age, "convicted of any offense punishable by imprisonment other than for life," may be sentenced to this school. here he may be kept during the term of his sentence; or he may be bound out as an apprentice; or, in case he proves incorrigible, he may be sent to prison, as he would originally have been but for the existence of this school. the buildings erected are sufficiently large for three hundred boys. attached to the establishment is a large farm, the cost of all which, when the buildings are completed and furnished, and the farm stocked and provided with agricultural implements, it is estimated will be about one hundred thousand dollars. a citizen of that state has given twenty-two thousand five hundred dollars to this institution, partly to defray past expenses and partly to form a fund for its future benefit. "in visiting this noble institution, one can not but think how closely it resembles, in spirit and in purpose, the mission of him who came to seek and to save that which was lost; and yet, in traversing its spacious halls and corridors, the echo of each footfall seems to say that one tenth part of its cost would have done more in the way of prevention than its whole amount can accomplish in the way of reclaiming, and would, besides, have saved a thousand pangs that have torn parental hearts, and a thousand more wounds in the hearts of the children themselves, which no human power can ever wholly heal. when will the state learn that it is better to spend its units for prevention than tens and hundreds for remedy? how long must the state, like those same unfortunate children, suffer the punishment of their existence before it will be reformed?" kindred institutions have existed in several of our principal cities for a quarter of a century, among which are the house of reformation for juvenile delinquents in new york, the house of refuge in philadelphia, and the house of reformation in boston. considering the degradation of their parents, the absence of correct early instruction, and the corrupting influences to which the children sent to these institutions have been exposed, becoming generally _criminals_ before any effort has been made by the humane for their correct educational training, one may well wonder at the success which has crowned the efforts that have been put forth in their behalf, for the greater part of them _are effectually and permanently reformed_. this, however, only shows more clearly the power of education, and the advantages that may be derived from the establishment and maintenance of improved common schools throughout our country. _but how are these reforms effected?_ the means are simple, and are slightly different from those already described for the correct training of unoffending children. take, for instance, the house of reformation in the city of new york. in the first place, they have a good school-house, embracing nearly all the modern improvements. the yard and play-ground are of ample dimensions, and are inclosed by a substantial fence. this constitutes a barrier beyond which the children, once within, can not pass. but the clean gravel-walks, the beautiful shade-trees, the green grass-plats, the sparkling fountains, the ornamental flower-garden, all conspire to render the place delightful. it is, indeed, a prison in one sense, but the children seem hardly to know it. then, again, well-qualified teachers and superintendents are employed. the spirit which actuates them is that of love. by proving themselves the friends of the children, the children become their friends, and are hence easily governed, considering their former neglect. being well instructed, they love study, and generally make commendable progress. their habits are regular, and they are constantly employed. a portion of the day is devoted to study; another portion to industrial pursuits; and still another to recreation and amusements. strict obedience is required. this may be yielded at first from restraint, but ultimately from love. the love of kind and faithful teachers, the love of approving consciences, the love of right, the love of god, separately and conjointly influence them, until they can say ultimately of a truth, "_the love of christ constraineth us._" their industrial habits are of incalculable benefit to them. they all learn some trade, and acquire the habits and the skill requisite to constitute them producers, and thus practically conform to this fundamental law, "_that if any man would not work, neither should he eat_." the other conditions that have been stated as essential to success are also complied with, the scholars being kept under the influence of good teachers, and of the same teachers from year to year, during their continuance in the institution. the well-qualified and eminently successful teacher who has long been connected with the refuge in new york, in a late report says, "the habits of industry which the children here acquire will be of incalculable benefit to them through life. yet we look upon the school department as the greatest of all the means employed to save our youthful charge from ignorance and vice. as it is the mind and the heart that are mostly depraved, so we must act mostly upon the mind and the heart to eradicate this depravity. "the education here is a _moral_ education. we do endeavor, it is true, by all the powers we possess, to impress upon the mind the great importance of a good education; and not only to _impress_ it upon the mind, but to assist the mind to act, that it may obtain it. but our principal aim is to fan into life the almost dying spark of virtue, and kindle anew the moral feelings, that they may glow with fresh ardor, and shine forth again in the beauty of innocence. our object is not to store the memory with facts, but to elevate the soul; not to think for the children, but to teach them to think for themselves; to describe the road, and put them in the way; never to hint what they have been, nor what they are, but to point them continually to what they may be. "_we feel assured that our labor will not be lost._ judging the future from the past, we are sanguine in our belief that our toils have left an impress upon the mind which time can not efface. scarcely a week passes but our hearts are cheered and animated, and our eyes are gladdened at the sight of those whom we taught in by-gone years, who bid no fairer then to cheer us than those with whom we labor now. yet they are saved--saved to themselves; saved to society; saved to their friends--who, but for this refuge, would have poisoned the moral atmosphere of our land, and breathed around them more deadly effluvia than that of the fabled upas." the success which has attended well-directed efforts for the reformation of juvenile delinquents, and _evening free schools_ for the education of adults of all ages whose early education has been neglected, ought to inspire the friends of human improvement with increased confidence in the redeeming power of a correct early education, such as every state in this union may provide for all her children. when this confidence is begotten, and when a good common education comes to be generally regarded as the birth-right of every child in the community, then may the friends of free institutions and of indefinite human advancement look for the more speedy realization of their long-cherished hopes. for one generation the community must be doubly taxed--once in the reformation of juvenile delinquents, and in the education of ignorant adults in evening schools, and again in the correct training of all our children in improved schools. this done, each succeeding generation will come upon the stage under more favorable circumstances than the preceding, and each present generation will be better prepared to educate that which is to follow, to the end of time. the redeeming power of common schools. if all our schools were under the charge of teachers possessing what i regard as the right intellectual and moral qualifications, and if all the children of the community were brought under the influence of these schools for ten months in the year, i think that the work of training up the whole community to intelligence and virtue would soon be accomplished, as completely as any human end can be obtained by human means.--rev. jacob abbott. i might here introduce a vast amount of incontrovertible evidence to show that, if the attendance of all the children in any commonwealth could be secured at such improved common schools as we have been contemplating for ten months during the year, from the age of four to that of sixteen years, they would prove competent to the removal of ninety-nine one hundredths of the evils with which society is now infested in one generation, and that they would ultimately redeem the state from social vices and crimes. the hon. horace mann, late secretary of the massachusetts board of education, issued a circular in , in which he raised the question now under consideration. this circular was sent out to a large number of the most experienced and reputable teachers in the northern and middle states, all of whom were pleased to reply to it. each reply corroborates the position here stated; and, taken together _as a whole_, they are entitled to implicit credence. the whole correspondence is too voluminous to be here exhibited; i can not, however, forbear introducing a few illustrative passages. says mr. page, the late lamented principal of the new york state normal school, "could i be connected with a school furnished with all the appliances you name; where all the children should be constant attendants upon my instruction for a succession of years; where all my fellow-teachers should be such as you suppose; and where all the favorable influences described in your circular should surround me and cheer me, even with my moderate abilities as a teacher, i should scarcely expect, after the first generation submitted to the experiment, to fail _in a single case_ to secure the results you have named." mr. solomon adams, of boston, who has been engaged in the profession of teaching twenty-four years, remarks as follows: "permit me to say that, in very many cases, after laboring long with individuals almost against hope, and sometimes in a manner, too, which i can now see was not always wise, i have never had a case which has not resulted in some good degree according to my wishes. the many kind and voluntary testimonials given years afterward by persons who remembered that they were once my way-ward pupils, are among the pleasantest and most cheering incidents of my life. so uniform have been the results, when i have had a fair trial and time enough, that i have unhesitatingly adopted the motto, _never despair._ parents and teachers are apt to look for too speedy results from the labors of the latter. the moral nature, like the intellectual and physical, is long and slow in reaching the full maturity of its strength. i was told a few years since by a person who knew the history of nearly all my pupils for the first five years of my labor, that not one of them had ever brought reproach upon himself or mortification upon friends by a bad life. i can not now look over the whole of my pupils, and find one who had been with me long enough to receive a decided impression, whose life is not honorable and useful. i find them in all the learned professions and in the various mechanical arts. i find my female pupils scattered as teachers through half the states of the union, and as the wives and assistants of christian missionaries in every quarter of the globe. "so far, therefore, as my own experience goes, so far as my knowledge of the experience of others extends, so far as the statistics of crime throw any light upon the subject, i confidently expect that ninety-nine in a hundred, and i think even more, with such means of education as you have supposed, and with such divine favor as we are authorized to expect, would become good members of society, the supporters of order, and law, and truth, and justice, and all righteousness." the rev. jacob abbott, who has been engaged in the practical duties of teaching for about ten years in the cities of boston and new york, and who has had under his care about eight hundred pupils of both sexes, and of all ages from four to twenty-five, has expressed in a long letter the sentiment placed at the head of this section. "if all our schools were under the charge of teachers possessing what i regard as the right intellectual and moral qualifications, and if all the children of the community were brought under the influence of these schools for ten months in the year, i think the work of training up the whole community to intelligence and virtue would soon be accomplished as completely as any human end can be obtained by human means." mr. roger s. howard, of vermont, who has been engaged in teaching about twenty years, remarks, among other things, as follows: "judging from what i have seen and do know, if the conditions you have mentioned were strictly complied with; if the attendance of the scholars could be as universal, constant, and long-continued as you have stated; if the teachers were men and women of those high intellectual and moral qualities--apt to teach, and devoted to their work, and favored with that blessing which the word and providence of god teach us always to expect upon our honest, earnest, and well-directed efforts in so good a cause--on these conditions and under these circumstances, i do not hesitate to express the opinion that the failures need not be--would not be one per cent." miss catharine e. beecher, of brattleboro, vermont, who has been engaged directly and personally as a teacher about fifteen years, in hartford, connecticut, and cincinnati, ohio, and who has had the charge of not less than a thousand pupils from every state in the union, after stating these and other considerations, remarks as follows: "i will now suppose that it could be so arranged that, in a given place, containing from ten to fifteen thousand inhabitants, in any part of the country where i ever resided, _all_ the children at the age of four shall be placed six hours a day, for twelve years, under the care of teachers having the same views that i have, and having received that course of training for their office that any state in this union can secure to the teachers of its children. let it be so arranged that all these children shall remain till sixteen under these teachers, and also that they shall spend their lives in this city, and i have no hesitation in saying i do not believe that _one_, no, not a single one, would fail of proving a respectable and prosperous member of society; nay, more, i believe every one would, at the close of life, find admission into the world of endless peace and love. i say this solemnly, deliberately, and with the full belief that i am upheld by such imperfect experimental trials as i have made, or seen made by others; but, more than this, that i am sustained by the authority of heaven, which sets forth this grand palladium of education, '_train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it._ "this sacred maxim surely sets the divine _imprimatur_ to the doctrine that _all_ children _can_ be trained up in the way they should go, and that, when so trained, they will not depart from it. nor does it imply that education _alone_ will secure eternal life without supernatural assistance; but it points to the true method of securing this indispensable aid. "in this view of the case, i can command no language strong enough to express my infinite longings that my countrymen, who, as legislators, have the control of the institutions, the laws, and the wealth of our _physically_ prosperous nation, should be brought to see that they now have in their hands the power of securing to _every_ child in the coming generation a life of virtue and usefulness here, and an eternity of perfected bliss hereafter. how, then, can i express, or imagine, the awful responsibility which rests upon them, and which hereafter they must bear before the great judge of nations, if they suffer the present state of things to go on, bearing, as it does, thousands and hundreds of thousands of helpless children in our country to hopeless and irretrievable ruin!" testimony similar to the preceding might be multiplied to almost any extent. enough, however, i trust, has been said to remove any doubts in relation to the redeeming power of education which the reader may have previously entertained. universal education, we have seen, constitutes the most effectual and the only sure means of securing to individuals and communities, to states and nations, exemption from all avoidable evils of whatever kind, and the possession of a competency of this world's goods, with the ability and disposition so to enjoy them as most to augment human happiness. yes, education, and nothing short of it, will dissipate the evils of ignorance; it will greatly increase the productiveness of labor, and make men more moral, industrious, and skillful, and thus diminish pauperism and crime, while at the same time it will indefinitely augment the sum total of human happiness. by diminishing the number of fatal accidents that are constantly occurring in every community, and securing to the rising generation such judicious physical and moral treatment as shall give them sound minds in sound bodies, it will lay an unfailing foundation for general prosperity, will greatly promote longevity, and will thus, in both of these and in many other ways, do more to increase the population, wealth, and universal well-being of the thirty states of this union than all other means of state policy combined. at the late peace convention at paris to consider the practicability and necessity of a congress of nations to adjust national differences, composed of about fifteen hundred members, picked men from every christian nation, victor hugo, the president of the convention, on taking the chair, made an address that was received with great applause, in which the following passages occur: "a day will come when men will no longer bear arms one against the other; when appeals will no longer be made to war, but to civilization! the time will come when the cannon will be exhibited as an old instrument of torture, and wonder expressed how such a thing could have been used. a day, i say, will come when the united states of america and the united states of europe will be seen extending to each other the hand of fellowship across the ocean, and when we shall have the happiness of seeing every where the majestic radiation of universal concord." that such a time will come, every heart that glows with christian benevolence must earnestly desire and fervently pray. but we can not hope to attain the end without the use of the necessary means. so glorious a result as this, that has become an object of universal desire throughout christendom, must follow when the conditions upon which it depends are complied with. what these are there can be little room for doubt. let, then, every friend of universal peace seek it in the use of the appropriate means--_universal education_. the same remark will apply to every form of christian benevolence and universal philanthropy; for, as has been well remarked, in universal education, every "follower of god and friend of human kind" will find the only sure means of carrying forward that particular reform to which he is devoted. in whatever department of philanthropy he may be engaged, he will find that department to be only a segment of the great circle of beneficence of which _universal education_ is the center and circumference; and that he can most successfully promote the permanent advancement of his most cherished interest in securing the establishment of, and attendance upon, improved schools free to all. index. abbott, rev. j., on the redeeming power of common schools, page . abdominal supporters, their use considered, . academy, new york free, . accidents, cause and prevention of, . adams, john q., accustomed to the daily reading of the scriptures, . adams, solomon, on the redeeming power of common schools, . agriculture requires education for its successful prosecution, . air, want of, causes death, . necessary to purify the blood, . what composed of, . quantity respired, , . how changed in respiration, , . once respired will not sustain life, . importance of to health, . abundance of for man's use, . how freed from impurities, . estimated loss of money and life from breathing impure, , . an excellent medicine, . alcott, dr., on breathing bad air, . alphabet, how taught, . a better method, - . anecdote of the indian, , . of laura bridgman, - . of dr. franklin, . of a practical teacher, . of a german schoolmaster, . of a farmer plowing with three horses, . apoplexy, how caused, , . death by, , . apparatus and library, . may be useful to adults, , . appurtenances to school-houses, . arithmetic, often poorly taught, . its morals, . arts, the useful, require education, . improvements made in the, , . how improvements are to be made in the, . astrology believed in, to what extent, . atmospheric impurities, , . may be detected, . barnard, hon. henry, school architecture by, . testimony of, in relation to school libraries, . in relation to the external arrangements of school-houses, . bartlett, h., testimony of in relation to the productiveness of labor, . bathing, the importance of, . the luxury of, . the benefits of, , . the time for, , . a preservative of health, . a good exercise, . beecher, miss catharine e., quoted, . benevolent females, means of usefulness of, . bible, its use in schools, . vote on, in the new york legislature, . what it has done for mankind, . black hole in calcutta referred to, , . blindness, hereditary, . how caused in schools, . blind persons inferior, . injured by inaction, . how taught, . blood, circulation of the, . bones, how injured, . lengthened by habit, . books furnished at the expense of the district, . boxing the ears injurious, . brain, the seat of the mind, . its functions the highest in the animal economy, . conditions of its healthy action, , , . how affected by bad air, . requires exercise, . seclusion injurious to, . want of exercise of the, a cause of disease, . effects of excessive activity of the, , . in childhood, - . rules for the exercise of the, , , , . breath known to take fire, . bull fights an amusement in spain, . california, state of agriculture and the arts in, . capital punishment and compulsory attendance upon school, , . carriage of the body important, . celebrations, common school, recommended, . character, how affected by associations, , , . chest, how developed, , , , . should not be compressed, . children, seats for, . how deformed, . should not be confined too long, . rational treatment of, . chylification, the process and necessity of, . chymification, the second important step in digestion, . circulation of the blood, . two circulations, . clark, john, testimony of, in relation to education and labor, . cleanliness a virtue, . clergymen, their relation to the primary schools, , . a text for, . clothing, office of, . necessity of airing and changing, . cold, how to prevent taking, . combe, dr., on bathing, . confinement injurious to children, . conflagration, general, how it may be produced, , . consumption, hereditary, . how death caused by, . how prevented, , . common among the deaf and dumb, . conventions, educational, recommended, . costiveness, effects of, . how prevented, . crime diminished by education, . statistics of, . expense of, . deaf and dumb, why inferior to other persons, . deafness, cause and cure of, . digestion, process of, . diseases, hereditary, , , . caused by mental inactivity, . district libraries, , . district lyceum, how rendered useful, . drawing an exercise in schools, . drunkenness becomes constitutional, , . dumb-bells, their use recommended, , . ears, how injured, . eclipses, a source of alarm to the ignorant and superstitious, . education, in what it consists, . not finished in schools, . should have reference to man's future existence, . not limited to man's physical powers, . not limited to his intellectual powers, . not limited to his moral powers, . physically considered, . intellectual and moral, . of the five senses, . necessity of moral and religious, . the importance of, . it dissipates the evils of ignorance, , . it increases the productiveness of labor, . necessary for females, , . it diminishes pauperism and crime, . it improves the moral habits, , . it increases human happiness, , . degree of, in the united states, . existing provisions for, . the means of rendering its blessings universal, . educational department, the state should maintain an, . emerson, george b., quoted, . epidemics arrested by ventilation, . evacuation, importance of, to the preservation of health, . evening schools for adults, . exercise, effects of, . when not to be taken, . other laws of, . should be taken regularly, . experiment on breathing air, . in visiting a school, . in plowing with three horses, . eye, description of the, . its sympathy with the other bodily organs, . rational care of the, - . see _sight_. factories, labor in, requires education to render it productive, - . school teachers employed in, . failures in business accounted for in certain cases, , . farming requires knowledge, . illustrative anecdote, . in california, . females, benevolent and christian, their relation to the primary school, , , . fortune-telling practiced in great britain and in the united states, . fracture of the skull, cases of, referred to, . france infidel--the united states christian, . franklin's methusalem, . free academy, new york, . freezing of water, law of, illustrates the beneficence of god, - . french ladies, posture of, . friday and other _unlucky_ days, - . funds for the support of schools, . when useful, . general conflagration may be produced by the decomposition of air or water, . geography, how taught in many schools, . gestation, state of the mother during, affects the health and happiness of the offspring, , . grain, influence of the moon on the growth of, . greeley, horace, extract from address of, on free schools, . habits, mental and physical, how formed, . happiness increased by education, . health, laws of, - . hearing, the sense of, . how improved, . how injured, . cultivation of, - . hereditary diseases, , . hot-bed system of education, - . house of refuge for juvenile delinquents, - . howard, roger s., on the redeeming power of common schools, . howe, dr. samuel g., on the importance of physical education, . humphrey, dr., on moral and religious training, . hypocrisy, why unsuccessful, . idiocy, extent of, . causes of, , , . idiots, who are, in law, . condition of, . may be educated, , . ignorance, its effects considered, . of the correct treatment of children, . man in a state of, . indians never have consumption, . anecdote of an, , . indigestion caused by mental anxiety, . inhaling tubes, their use considered, , . insanity, how caused, , , , . instruction, modes of, extensively practiced, . insurance of property, the best modes of, , . intellectual education, its nature, . intemperance, hereditary, , . a cause of idiocy, . expense of, in this country, , . see _breath_. intermarriages, influence of, on posterity, . irritability of teachers accounted for, . juvenile delinquents, provisions for, , . knowledge essential to prosperity in agriculture, . required in the useful arts, . see _education_. labor, education increases the productiveness of, . during rapid growth often injurious, . of females in factories and in the domestic employments of the sex, , . ladies in france, consequences of their erect posture, . lardner, dr., on popular fallacies, , . laura bridgman, the deaf, dumb, and blind girl, . library and apparatus, . township and district libraries, . life, extensive loss of, how caused, . lunacy, origin and signification of, , . lunar influences considered, . lungs strengthened by reading aloud and singing, , . blood changed in the, . exhalations from the, . absorption in the, . diseases of the, hereditary, . exercise of the, a means of preventing disease, . when they should not be exercised, . lyceums in districts, how rendered popular and useful, . mann, hon. horace, referred to and quoted, , . manufactories, to be productive, require educated workmen, - . education of children employed in, . marriage of relatives a cause of consumption, . a cause of idiocy, , . mastication, importance of, to digestion, . masturbation, . see _secret vice_. meals, proper time for partaking of, . measures, a system of, for schools, , . mills, james k., testimony of, in relation to education and labor, . mind, laws of, , . see _brain_. moral education, its nature, . necessity of, . want of, a cause of insanity, . should be pursued practically, . moon, its influence on the weather, . mortality, cause and extent of, among infants, - . muscles, how they act, . of the eye, . see _exercise_. music, vocal, a branch of education in germany, . national education, political necessity of, . degree of, in this country, . provisions for, . practicability of, . the means of, - . natural philosophy, the mode of teaching, . navigation among the ignorant and educated, . nerves, sensibility of the, , . see _brain_. new york, free academy, . public schools in, , . normal schools, necessity for, - . oliver caswell, the deaf, dumb, and blind boy, . onanism, . see _secret vice_. page, d. p., on the redeeming power of common schools, . parents, the natural educators of their children, . vicious, sometimes reformed by school children, . pauperism, diminished by education, . extent of, in new york, . expense of maintaining, . peace convention at paris referred to, . petulancy in teachers and others accounted for, , . physical education, importance of, . a preventive of disease, . the only correct basis for intellectual and moral, , . physician, his office and that of the clergyman compared, . how he may be most useful in his profession, , . physiology, made by law a study in common schools, . lectures upon, by school teachers, . play-rooms, important for small children, . politics, definition of, . should be a school study, . politeness should be habitual, . popular intelligence, degree of, in the united states, . existing provisions for, . poverty, extent of in spain, . how diminished, , . precocity of scrofulous and rickety children, . how they should be treated, , , . pregnancy, the state of the mother during, influences the character of the child, , . punishments, certain kinds injurious, , . see _capital punishment_. purblind students, suggestions for, . quincy, hon. josiah, jr., on compulsory attendance upon school, . reading aloud a healthful exercise, . how reading is frequently taught, . a better way, . reading-room in connection with the school-house, . recesses in schools should be frequent, . reform school. see _state reform school_. regularity, in bodily exercise, . in mental exercise, . relatives, consequences of the marriage of, , . religion defined, . of some kind unavoidable, . religious education, the necessity for, . should be reduced to practice, . respiration, philosophy of, . rickety children injured by study, . riots, expense of, in philadelphia, . roman notation table, how taught, . a better way, . rush, dr., on the use of tobacco, . school funds, their utility considered, - . school-houses, their common size, . good ones should be provided, . the condition of, . the location of, . size and construction of, . for country districts, . for cities and villages, . plans for, - . ventilation of, . means of warming, . appurtenances to, . influence of, . schools, the support of, . the redeeming power of, . should continue through the year, . every child should attend, . compulsory attendance upon, . scrofulous children injured by study, . proper treatment of, , . seclusion from society injurious to both body and mind, . secret vice, how increased, . how remedied, . causes idiocy, insanity, and other evils, . see-saws, how rendered interesting and useful, . senses, education of the, . loss of the, impairs the health, , . loss of the, causes insanity, . general law concerning the, . their cultivation increases human happiness, . shooting stars a source of terror to the ignorant, . shoulder braces, their use considered, , . sickness in school accounted for, , , , . sight, the sense of, . influence of tobacco and spectacles on the, . how injured, and how preserved and improved, - . how persons become near or long sighted, , . how the sight may be disciplined, . skin, functions of the, . cleanliness of, important, . skull, cases of fracture of the, . smell, the sense of, . its uses, . how injured, . snuff, its influence upon the sense of smell, . spectacles, the use of, often injurious, . sports, what kinds most advantageous, . state reform school in massachusetts, . statistics of education in the united states, - . stooping, how induced, . habitual, to be avoided, . study, best time for, . see _brain_. sulphureted hydrogen gas poisonous, . summary of important principles, , , , . of improvements in the arts, . taste, the sense of, its uses and abuses, - . teachers, why their health fails, - . employed in factories, . their relation to the school, - . books for, . tobacco used by, . indulge in other evil practices, - . who make the best, . qualifications of, , , , , . institutes for, . teaching, should be ranked among the learned professions, , . compared with the practice of law, . with the business of legislation, . with the practice of medicine, . with the clerical profession, . teeth, their relation to health, . how to preserve them, . acids injurious to them, . tobacco not a preservative of, . timber, time for felling, . tobacco, its use tends to drunkenness, . it impairs the sight, . used by teachers, . used by ministers, , . a lady's inquiry concerning the use of, . the use of, expensive, . touch, sense of, . how improved, . township libraries instead of district libraries, . truancy, legal provisions concerning, - . union or graded schools, . they should possess a normal characteristic, . united states, the, a christian nation, . see _france_. universal education. see _education_, _national education_, and _free schools_. unlucky days in scotland, . in the united states, . vaccination, how effected, . ventilation, necessity of, - . of clothing, , . means of, , . vocal gymnastics, influence of, . vocal music useful as an exercise, . dr. rush's testimony quoted, . should be introduced into all our schools, . walking, not the best exercise, . how rendered most beneficial, . washington, quotation from farewell address of, . waste, the cause of, . the repair of, . water, the freezing of, illustrates the beneficence of god, - . watson, rev. james v., on the providence of god, . weather, does the moon influence the, . weights and measures for school apparatus, . see _measures_. witchcraft in england and new england, . young, the hon. samuel, on the use of the bible in schools, . the end. valuable standard publications issued by harper & brothers, new york. addison's complete works. including the spectator entire. with a portrait. vols. vo, sheep extra, $ . the spectator in miniature. selections from the 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impression nihil obstat: f. thos. bergh, o.s.b. imprimatur: franoisous card. bourne abchiepos wesimonast, die januarii, . preface we have had many treatises on education in recent years; many regulations have been issued by government departments; enormous sums of money are contributed annually from private and public sources for the improvement and development of education. are the results in any degree proportioned to all these repeated and accumulated efforts? it would not be easy to find one, with practical experience of education, ready to give an unhesitatingly affirmative answer. and the explanation of the disappointing result obtained is very largely to be found in the neglect of the training of the will and character, which is the foundation of all true education. the programmes of government, the grants made if certain conditions are fulfilled, the recognition accorded to a school if it conforms to a certain type, these things may have raised the standard of teaching, and forced attention to subjects of learning which were neglected; they have done little to promote education in the real sense of the term. nay, more than this, the insistence on certain types of instruction which they have compelled has in too many cases paralysed the efforts of teachers who in their hearts were striving after a better way. the effect on some of our catholic schools of the newer methods has not been free from harm. compelled by force of circumstances, parental or financial, to throw themselves into the current of modern educational effort, they have at the same time been obliged to abandon the quieter traditional ways which, while making less display, left a deeper impress on the character of their pupils. others have had the courage to cling closely to hallowed methods built up on the wisdom and experience of the past, and have united with them all that was not contradictory in recent educational requirements. they may, thereby, have seemed to some waiting in sympathy with the present, and attaching too great value to the past. the test of time will probably show that they have given to both past and present an equal share in their consideration. it will certainly be of singular advantage to those who are engaged in the education of catholic girls to have before them a treatise written by one who has had a long and intimate experience of the work of which she writes. loyal in every word to the soundest traditions of catholic education, the writer recognizes to the full that the world into which catholic girls pass nowadays on leaving school is not the world of a hundred, or of fifty, or of even thirty years ago. but this recognition brings out, more clearly than anything else could do, the great and unchanging fact that the formation of heart and will and character is, and must be always, the very root of the education of a child; and it also shows forth the new fact that at no time has that formation been more needed than at the present day. the pages of this book are well worthy of careful pondering and consideration, and they will be of special value both to parents and to teachers, for it is in their hands and in their united, and not opposing action, that the educational fate of the children lies. but i trust that the thoughts set forth upon these pages will not escape either the eyes or the thoughts of those who are the public custodians and arbiters of education in this country. the state is daily becoming more jealous in its control of educational effort in england. would that its wisdom were equal to its jealousy. we might then be delivered from the repeated attempts to hamper definite religious teaching in secondary schools, by the refusal of public aid where the intention to impart it is publicly announced; and from the discouragement continually arising from regulations evidently inspired by those who have no personal experience of the work to be accomplished, and who decline to seek information from those to whom such work is their very life. it cannot, surely, be for the good of our country that the stored-up experience of educational effort of every type should be disregarded in favour of rigid rules and programmes; or that zeal and devotion in the work of education are to be regarded as valueless unless they be associated with so-called undenominational religion. the catholic church in this and in every country has centuries of educational tradition in her keeping. she has no more ardent wish than to place it all most generously at the service of the commonwealth, and to take her place in every movement that will be to the real advantage of the children upon whom the future of the world depends. and we have just ground for complaint when the conditions on which alone our co-operation will be allowed are of such a character as to make it evident that we are not intended to have any real place in the education of our country. may this treatise so ably written be a source of guidance and encouragement to those who are giving their lives to the education of catholic children, and at the same time do something to dispel the distrust and to overcome the hostility shown in high quarters towards every catholic educational endeavour. francis cardinal bourne, archbishop of westminster. contents preface introduction chapter i. religion ii. character. i. iii. character. ii. iv. the elements of catholic philosophy v. the realities of life vi. lessons and play vii. mathematics, natural science, and nature study viii. english ix. modern languages x. history xi. art xii. manners xiii. higher education of women xiv. conclusion appendix i appendix ii index pair though it be, to watch unclose the nestling glories of a rose, depth on rich depth, soft fold on fold; though fairer he it, to behold stately and sceptral lilies break to beauty, and to sweetness wake: yet fairer still, to see and sing, one fair thing is, one matchless thing: youth, in its perfect blossoming. lionel johnson. introduction a book was published in the united states in with the title, education: how old the new. a companion volume might be written with a similar title, education: how new the old, and it would only exhibit another aspect of the same truth. this does not pretend to be that possible companion volume, but to present a point of view which owes something both to old and new, and to make an appeal for the education of catholic girls to have its distinguishing features recognized and freely developed in view of ultimate rather than immediate results. chapter i. religion. "oh! say not, dream not, heavenly notes to childish ears are vain, that the young mind at random floats, and cannot reach the strain. "dim or unheard, the words may fall. and yet the heaven-taught mind may learn the sacred air, and all the harmony unwind." keble. the principal educational controversies of the present day rage round the teaching of religion to children, but they are more concerned with the right to teach it than with what is taught, in fact none of the combatants except the catholic body seem to have a clear notion of what they actually want to teach, when the right has been secured. it is not the controversy but the fruits of it that are here in question, the echoes of battle and rumours of wars serve to enhance the importance of the matter, the duty of making it all worth while, and using to the best advantage the opportunities which are secured at the price of so many conflicts. the duty is twofold, to god and to his children. god, who entrusts to us their religious education, has a right to be set before them as truly, as nobly, as worthily as our capacity allows, as beautifully as human language can convey the mysteries of faith, with the quietness and confidence of those who know and are not afraid, and filial pride in the christian inheritance which is ours. the child has a right to learn the best that it can know of god, since the happiness of its life, not only in eternity but even in time, is bound up in that knowledge. most grievous wrong has been done, and is still done, to children by well-meaning but misguided efforts to "make them good" by dwelling on the vengeance taken by god upon the wicked, on the possibilities of wickedness in the youngest child. their impressionable minds are quite ready to take alarm, they are so small, and every experience is so new; there are so many great forces at work which can be dimly guessed at, and to their vivid imaginations who can say what may happen next? if the first impressions of god conveyed to them are gloomy and terrible, a shadow may be cast over the mind so far-reaching that perhaps a whole lifetime may not carry them beyond it. they hear of a sleepless bye that ever watches, to see them doing wrong, an bye from which they cannot escape. there is the judge of awful severity who admits no excuse, who pursues with relentless perseverance to the very end and whose resources for punishment are inexhaustible. what wonder if a daring and defiant spirit turns at last and stands at bay against the resistless avenger, and if in later years the practical result is--"if we may not escape, let us try to forget," or the drifting of a whole life into indifference, languor of will, and pessimism that border on despair. parents could not bear to be so misrepresented to their children, and what condemnation would be sufficient for teachers who would turn the hearts of children against their father, poisoning the very springs of life. yet this wrong is done to god. in general, children taught by their own parents do not suffer so much from these misrepresentations of god, as those who have been left with servants and ignorant teachers, themselves warped by a wrong early training. fathers and mothers must have within themselves too much intuition of the fatherhood of god not to give another tone to their teaching, and probably it is from fathers and mothers, as they are in themselves symbols of god's almighty power and unmeasured love, that the first ideas of him can best reach the minds of little children. but it is rare that circumstances admit the continuance of this best instruction. for one reason or another children pass on to other teachers and, except for what can be given directly by the clergy, must depend on them for further religious instruction. this further teaching, covering, say, eight years of school life, ten to eighteen, falls more or less into two periods, one in which the essentials of christian life and doctrine have to be learned, the other in which more direct preparation may be made for the warfare of faith which must be encountered when the years of school life are over. it is a great stewardship to be entrusted with the training of god's royal family of children, during these years on which their after life almost entirely depends, and "it is required among stewards that a man may be found faithful." for other branches of teaching it is more easy to ascertain that the necessary qualifications are not wanting, but in this the qualifications lie so deeply hidden between god and the conscience that they must often be taken for granted, and the responsibility lies all the more directly with the teacher who has to live the life, as well as to know the truth, and love both truth and life in order to make them loved. these are qualifications that are never attained, because they must always be in process of attainment, only one who is constantly growing in grace and love and knowledge can give the true appreciation of what that grace and love and knowledge are in their bearing on human life: to _be_ rather than to _know_ is therefore a primary qualification. inseparably bound up with it is the thinking right thoughts concerning what is to be taught. . to have right thoughts of god. it would seem to be too obvious to need statement, yet experience shows that this fundamental necessity is not always secure, far from it. it is not often put into words, but traces may be found only too easily of foundations of religion laid in thoughts of god that are unworthy of our faith. whence can they have come? doubtless in great measure from the subtle spirit of jansenism which spread so widely in its day and is so hard to outlive--from remains of the still darker spirit of calvinism which hangs about convert teachers of a rigid school--from vehement and fervid spiritual writers, addressing themselves to the needs of other times--perhaps most of all from the old lie which was from the beginning, the deep mistrust of god which is the greatest triumph of his enemy. god is set forth as if he were encompassed with human limitations--the fiery imagery of the old testament pressed into the service of modern and western minds, until he is made to seem pitiless, revengeful, exacting, lying in wait to catch his creatures in fault, and awaiting them at death with terrible surprises. but this is not what the church and the gospels have to say about him to the children of the kingdom. if we could put into words our highest ideals of all that is most lovely and lovable, beautiful, tender, gracious, liberal, strong, constant, patient, unwearying, add what we can, multiply it a million times, tire out our imagination beyond it, and then say that it is nothing to what he is, that it is the weakest expression of his goodness and beauty, we shall give a poor idea of god indeed, but at least, as far as it goes, it will be true, and it will lead to trustfulness and friendship, to a right attitude of mind, as child to father, and creature to creator. we speak as we believe, there is an accent of sincerity that carries conviction if we speak of god as we believe, and if we believe truly, we shall speak of him largely, trustfully, and happily, whether in the dogmas of our faith, or as we find his traces and glorious attributes in the world around us, as we consider the lilies of the field and the birds of the air, or as we track with reverent and unprecipitate following the line of his providential government in the history of the world. the need of right thoughts of god is also deeply felt on the side of our relations to him, and that especially in our democratic times when sovereignty is losing its meaning. there are free and easy ideas of god, as if man might criticize and question and call him to account, and have his say on the doings of the creator. it is not explanation or apology that answer these, but a right thought of god makes them impossible, and this right thought can only be given if we have it ourselves. the fatherhood of god and the sovereignty of god are foundations of belief which complete one another, and bear up all the superstructure of a child's understanding of christian life. . eight ideas of ourselves and of our destiny. it is a pity that evil instead of good is made a prominent feature of religious teaching. to be haunted by the thought of evil and the dread of losing our soul, as if it were a danger threatening us at every step, is not the most inspiring ideal of life; quiet, steady, unimaginative fear and watchfulness is harder to teach, but gives a stronger defence against sin than an ever present terror; while all that belongs to hope awakens a far more effective response to good. some realization of our high destiny as heirs of heaven is the strongest hold that the average character can have to give steadiness in prosperity and courage in adversity. chosen souls will rise higher than this, but if the average can reach so far as this they will do well. . eight ideas of sin and evil. it is possible on the one hand to give such imperfect ideas of right and wrong that all is measured by the mere selfish standard of personal security. the frightened question about some childish wrong-doing--"is it a mortal sin?" often indicates that fear of punishment is the only aspect under which sin appears to the mind; while a satisfied tone in saying "it is only a venial sin" looks like a desire to see what liberties may be taken with god without involving too serious consequences to self. "it is wrong" ought to be enough, and the less children talk of mortal sin the better--to talk of it, to discuss with them whether this or that is a mortal sin, accustoms them to the idea. when they know well the conditions which make a sin grave without illustrations by example which are likely to obscure the subject rather than clear it up, when their ideas of right and duty and obligation are clear, when "i ought" has a real meaning for them, we shall have a stronger type of character than that which is formed on detailed considerations of different degrees of guilt. on the other hand it is possible to confuse and torment children by stories of the exquisite delicacy of the consciences of the saints, as st. aloysius, setting before them a standard that is beyond their comprehension or their degree of grace, and making them miserable because they cannot conform to it. it is a great safeguard against sin to realize that duty must be done, at any cost, and that christianity means self-denial and taking up the cross. . eight thoughts of the four last things. true thoughts of death are not hard for children to grasp, to their unspoiled faith it is a simple and joyful thing to go to god. later on the dreary pageantry and the averted face of the world from that which is indeed its doom obscure the christian idea, and the mind slips back to pagan grief, as if there were no life to come. eight thoughts of judgment are not so hard to give if the teaching is sincere and simple, free from exaggerations and phantoms of dread, and on the other hand clear from an incredulous protest against god's holding man responsible for his acts. but to give right thoughts of hell and heaven taxes the best resources of those who wish to lay foundations well, for they are to be foundations for life, and the two lessons belong together, corner-stones of the building, to stand in view as long as it shall stand and never to be forgotten. the two lessons belong together as the final destiny of man, fixed by his own act, _this_ or _that_. and they have to be taught with all the force and gravity and dignity which befits the subject, and in such a way that after years will find nothing to smile at and nothing to unlearn. they have to be taught as the mind of the present time can best apprehend them, not according to the portraiture of mediaeval pictures, but in a language perhaps not more true and adequate in itself but less boisterous and more comprehensible to our self-conscious and introspective moods. father faber's treatment of these last things, hell and heaven, would furnish matter for instruction not beyond the understanding of those in their last years at school, and of a kind which if understood must leave a mark upon the mind for life. [ see appendix i.] . eight views of jesus christ and his mother. for catholic children this relationship is not a thing far off, but the faith which teaches them of god incarnate bids them also understand that he is their own "god who gives joy to their youth"--and that his mother is also theirs. there are many incomprehensible things in which children are taught to affirm their belief, and the acts of faith in which they recite these truths are far beyond their understanding. but they can and do understand if we take pains to teach them that they are loved by our lord each one alone, intimately and personally, and asked to love in return. "suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not," is not for them a distant echo of what was heard long ago in the holy land, it is no story, but a living reality of to day. they are themselves the children who are invited to come to him, better off indeed than those first called, since they are not now rebuked or kept off by the apostles but brought to the front and given the first places, invited by order of his vicar from their earliest years to receive the bread of heaven, and giving delight to his representatives on earth by accepting the invitation. it is the reality as contrasted with the story that is the prerogative of the catholic child. jesus and mary are real, and are its own closest kin, all but visible, at moments intensely felt as present. they are there in joy and in trouble, when every one else fails in understanding or looks displeased there is this refuge, there is this love which always forgives, and sets things right, and to whom nothing is unimportant or without interest. companionship in loneliness, comfort in trouble, relief in distress, endurance in pain are all to be found in them. with jesus and mary what is there in the whole world of which a catholic child should be afraid. and this glorious strength of theirs made perfect in child-martyrs in many ages will make them again child-martyrs now if need be, or confessors of the holy faith as they are not seldom called upon, even now, to show themselves. there is a strange indomitable courage in children which has its deep springs in these divine things; the strength which they find in holy communion and in their love for jesus and mary is enough to overcome in them all weakness and fear. . eight thoughts of the faith and practice of christian life. and here it is necessary to guard against what is childish, visionary, and exuberant, against things that only feed the fancy or excite the imagination, against practices which are adapted to other races than ours, but with us are liable to become unreal and irreverent, against too vivid sense impressions and especially against attaching too much importance to them, against grotesque and puerile forms of piety, which drag down the beautiful devotions to the saints until they are treated as inhabitants of a superior kind of doll's house, rewarded and punished, scolded and praised, endowed with pet names, and treated so as to become objects of ridicule to those who do not realize that these extravagances may be in other countries natural forms of peasant piety when the grace of intimacy with the saints has run wild. in northern countries a greater sobriety of devotion is required if it is to have any permanent influence on life. but again, on the other hand, the more restrained devotion must not lose its spontaneity; so long as it is the true expression of faith it can hardly be too simple, it can never be too intimate a part of common life. noble friendships with the saints in glory are one of the most effectual means of learning heavenly-mindedness, and friendships formed in childhood will last through a lifetime. to find a character like one's own which has fought the same fight and been crowned, is an encouragement which obtains great victories, and to enter into the thoughts of the saints is to qualify oneself here below for intercourse with the citizens of heaven. to be well grounded in the elements of faith, and to have been so taught that the practice of religion has become the atmosphere of a happy life, to have the habit of sanctifying daily duties, joys, and trials by the thought of god, and a firm resolve that nothing shall be allowed to draw the soul away from him, such is, broadly speaking, the aim we may set before ourselves for the end of the years of childhood, after which must follow the more difficult years of the training of youth. the time has gone by when the faith of childhood might be carried through life and be assailed by no questionings from without. a faith that is not armed and ready for conflict stands a poor chance of passing victoriously through its trials, it cannot hope to escape from being tried. "we have laboured successfully," wrote a leading jewish freemason in rome addressing his brotherhood, "in the great cities and among the young men; it remains for us to carry out the work in the country districts and amongst the women." words could not be plainer to show what awaits the faith of children when they come out into the world; and even in countries where the aim is not so clearly set forth the current of opinion mostly sets against the faith, the current of the world invariably does so. for faith to hold on its course against all that tends to carry it away, it is needful that it should not be found unprepared. the minds of the young cannot expect to be carried along by a catholic public opinion, there will be few to help them, and they must learn to stand by themselves, to answer for themselves, to be challenged and not afraid to speak out for their faith, to be able to give "first aid" to unsettled minds and not allow their own to be unsettled by what they hear. they must learn that, as father dalgairns points out, their position in the world is far more akin to that of christians in the first centuries of the church than to the life that was lived in the middle ages when the church visibly ruled over public opinion. now, as in the earliest ages, the faithful stand in small assemblies or as individuals amid cold or hostile surroundings, and individual faith and sanctity are the chief means of extending the kingdom of god on earth. but this apostleship needs preparation and training. the early teaching requires to be seasoned and hardened to withstand the influences which tend to dissolve faith and piety; by this seasoning faith must be enlightened, and piety become serene and grave, "sedate," as st. francis of sales would say with beautiful commentary. in the last years of school or school-room life the mind has to be gradually inured to the harder life, to the duty of defending as well as adorning the faith, and to gain at least some idea of the enemies against which defence must be made. it is something even to know what is in the air and what may be expected that the first surprise may not disturb the balance of the mind. to know that in the church there have been sorrows and scandals, without the promises of christ having failed, and even that it had to be so, fulfilling his word, "it must needs be that scandals come" (st. matthew xviii. ), that they are therefore rather a confirmation than a stumbling-block to our faith, this is a necessary safeguard. to have some unpretentious knowledge of what is said and thought concerning holy scripture, to know at least something about modernism and other phases of current opinion is necessary, without making a study of their subtilties, for the most insecure attitude of mind for girls is to _think they know_, in these difficult questions, and the best safeguard both of their faith and good sense is intellectual modesty. without making acquaintance in detail with the phenomena of spiritualism and kindred arts or sciences, it is needful to know in a plain and general way why they are forbidden by the church, and also to know how those who have lost their balance and peace of mind in these pursuits would willingly draw back, but find it next to impossible to free themselves from the servitude in which they are entangled. it is hard for some minds to resist the restless temptation to feel, to see, to test and handle all that life can offer of strange and mysterious experiences, and next to the curb of duty comes the safeguard of greatly valuing freedom of mind. curiosity concerning evil or dangerous knowledge is more impetuous when a sudden emancipation of mind sweeps the old landmarks and restraints out of sight, and nothing has been foreseen which can serve as a guide. then is the time when weak places in education show themselves, when the least insincerity in the presentment of truth brings its own punishment, and a faith not pillared and grounded in all honesty is in danger of failing. the best security is to have nothing to unlearn, to know that what one knows is a very small part of what can be known, but that as far as it goes it is true and genuine, and cannot be outgrown, that it will stand both the wear of time and the test of growing power of thought, and that those who have taught these beliefs will never have to retract or be ashamed of them, or own that they were passed off, though inadequate, upon the minds of children. it is not unusual to meet girls who are troubled with "doubts" as to faith and difficulties which alarm both them and their friends. sometimes when these "doubts" are put into words they turn out to be mere difficulties, and it has not been understood that "ten thousand difficulties do not make a doubt." sometimes the difficulties are scarcely real, and come simply from catching up objections which they do not know how to answer, and think unanswerable. sometimes a spirit of contradiction has been aroused, and a captious tendency, or a love of excitement and sensationalism, with a wish to see the other side. sometimes imperfect teaching has led them to expect the realization of things as seen, which are only to be assented to as believed, so that there is a hopeless effort to _imagine_, to _feel_, and to _feel sure_, to lean in some way upon what the senses can verify, and the acquiescence, assent, and assurance of faith seems all insufficient to give security. sometimes there is genuine ignorance of what is to be believed, and of what it is to believe. sometimes it is merely a question of nerves, a want of tone in the mind, insufficient occupation and training which has thrown the mind back upon itself to its own confusion. sometimes they come from want of understanding that there must be mysteries in faith, and a multitude of questions that do not admit of complete answers, that god would not be god if the measure of our minds could compass his, that the course of his providence must transcend our experience and judgment, and that if the truths of faith forced the assent of our minds all the value of that assent would be taken away. if these causes and a few others were removed one may ask oneself how many "doubts" and difficulties would remain in the ordinary walks of catholic life. it seems to be according to the mind of the church in our days to turn the minds of her children to the devotional study of scripture, and if this is begun, as it may be, in the early years of education it gains an influence which is astonishing. the charm of the narrative in the very words of scripture, and the jewels of prayer and devotion which may be gathered in the sacred books, are within the reach of children, and they prepare a treasure of knowledge and love which will grow in value during a lifetime. arms are there, too, against many difficulties and temptations; and a better understanding of the church's teaching and of the liturgy which is the best standard of devotion for the faithful. the blight of scriptural knowledge is to make it a "subject" for examinations, running in a parallel track with algebra and geography, earning its measure of marks and submitted to the tests of non-catholic examining bodies, to whom it speaks in another tongue than ours. it must be a very robust devotion to the word of god that is not chilled by such treatment, and can keep an early christian glow in its readings of the gospels and epistles whether they have proved a failure or a success in the examination. in general, catholic candidates acquit themselves well in this subject, and perhaps it may give some edification to non-catholic examiners when they see these results. but it is questionable whether the risk of drying up the affection of children for what must become to them a text-book is worth this measure of success. let experience speak for those who know if it is not so; it would seem in the nature of things that so it must be. when it is given over to voluntary study (beyond the diocesan requirements which are a stimulus and not a blight) it catches, not like wild fire, but like blessed fire, even among young children, and is woven imperceptibly into the texture of life. lastly, what may be asked of catholic children when they grow up and have to take upon themselves the responsibility of keeping their own faith alive, and the practice of their religion in an atmosphere which may often be one of cold faith and slack observance? neither their spiritual guides, nor those who have educated them, nor their own parents, can take this responsibility out of their hands. st. francis of sales calls science the th sacrament for a priest, urging the clergy to give themselves earnestly to study, and he says that great troubles have come upon us because the sacred ark of knowledge was found in other hands than those of the levites. leo xiii wrote in one of his great encyclicals that "every minister of holy religion must bring to the struggle the full energy of his mind and all his power of endurance." what about the laity? we cannot leave all the battle to the clergy; they cannot defend and instruct and carry us into the kingdom of heaven in spite of ourselves; their labours call for response and correspondence. what about those who are now leaving childhood behind and will be in the front ranks of the coming generation? their influence will make or unmake the religion of their homes, and what they will be for the whole of their life will depend very much upon how they take their first independent stand. it is much that they should be well grounded in those elements of doctrine which they can learn in their school-days. it is much more if they carry out with them a living interest in the subject and care to watch the current of the church's thought in the encyclicals that are addressed to the faithful, the pastorals of bishops, the works of catholic writers which, are more and more within the reach of all, in the great events of the church's life, and in the talk of those who are able to speak from first-hand knowledge and experience. it is most of all fundamental that they should have an attitude of mind that is worthy of their faith; one that is not nervous or apologetic for the church, not anxious about the pope lest he should "interfere too much," nor frightened of what the world may say. they should have an unperturbed conviction that the church will have the last word in any controversy, and that she has nothing to be alarmed at, though all the battalions of newest thought should be set in array against her; they should be lovingly proud of the church, and keep their belief in her at all times joyous, assured, and unafraid. theology is not for them, neither required nor obtainable, though some have been found enterprising enough to undertake to read the _summa_, and naive enough to suppose that they would be theologians at the end of it, and even at the outset ready to exchange ideas with doctors of divinity on efficacious grace, and to have "views" on the authorship of the sacred writings. such aspirations either come to an untimely end by an awakening sense of proportion, or remain as monuments to the efforts of those "less wise," or in some unfortunate cases the mind loses its balance and is led into error. "thirsting to be more than mortal, i was even less than clay." let us, if we can, keep the bolder spirits on the level of what is congruous, where the wealth that is within their reach will not be exhausted in their lifetime, and where they may excel without offence and without inviting either condemnation or ridicule. the sense of fitness is a saving instinct in this as in every other department of life. when it is present, first principles come home like intuitions to the mind, where it is absent they seem to take no hold at all, and the understanding that should supply for the right instinct makes slow and laborious way if it ever enters at all. to know the relation in which one stands to any department of knowledge is, in that department, "the beginning of wisdom". the great christian basilicas furnish a parallel in the material order. they are the house of god and the home and possession of every member of the church militant without distinction of age or rank or learning. but they are not the same to each. every one brings his own understanding and faith and insight, and the great church is to him what he has capacity to understand and to receive. the great majority of worshippers could not draw a fine of the plans or expound a law of the construction, or set a stone in its place, yet the whole of it is theirs and for them, and their reverent awe, even if they have no further understanding, adds a spiritual grace and a fuller dignity to the whole. the child, the beggar, the pilgrim, the penitent, the lowly servants and custodians of the temple, the clergy, the venerable choir, the highest authorities from whom come the order and regulation of the ceremonies, all have their parts, all stand in their special relations harmoniously sharing in different degrees in what is for all. even those long since departed, architects and builders and donors, are not cut off from it, their works follow them, and their memory lives in the beauty which stands as a memorial to their great ideals. it is all theirs, it is all ours, it is all god's. and so of the great basilica of theology, built up and ever in course of building; it is for all--but for each according to his needs---for their use, for their instruction, to surround and direct their worship, to be a security and defence to their souls, a great church in which the spirit is raised heavenwards in proportion to the faith and submission with which it bows down in adoration before the throne of god. chapter ii. character i. "la vertu maitresse d'aujourd'hui est la spontaneite resolue, reglee par les principes interieurs et les disciplines volontairement acceptees."--y. le querdec. the value set on character, even if the appreciation goes no further than words, has increased very markedly within the last few years, and in reaction against an exclusively mental training we hear louder and louder the plea for the formation and training of character. primarily the word _character_ signifies a distinctive mark, cut, engraved, or stamped upon a substance, and by analogy, this is likewise character in the sense in which it concerns education. a "man of character" is one in whom acquired qualities, orderly and consistent, stand out on the background of natural temperament, as the result of training and especially of self-discipline, and therefore stamped or engraved upon something receptive which was prepared for them. this something receptive is the natural temperament, a basis more or less apt to receive what training and habit may bring to bear upon it. the sum of acquired habits tells upon the temperament, and together with it produce or establish character, as the arms engraved upon the stone constitute the seal. if habits are not acquired by training, and instead of them temperament alone has been allowed to have its way in the years of growth, the seal bears no arms engraven on it, and the result is want of character, or a weak character, without distinctive mark, showing itself in the various situations of life inconsistent, variable, unequal to strain, acting on the impulse, good or bad, of the moment; its fitful strength in moods of obstinacy or self-will showing that it lacks the higher qualities of rational discernment and self-control. "character is shown by susceptibility to motive," says a modern american, turning with true american instinct to the practical side in which he has made experiences, and it is evidently one of the readiest ways of approaching the study of any individual character, to make sure of the motives which awaken response. but the result of habit and temperament working together shows itself in every form of spontaneous activity as well as in response to external stimulus. character may be studied in tastes and sympathies, in the manner of treating with one's fellow creatures, of confronting various "situations" in life, in the ideals aimed at, in the estimate of success or failure, in the relative importance attached to things, in the choice of friends and the ultimate fate of friendships, in what is expected and taken for granted, as in what is habitually ignored, in the instinctive attitude towards law and authority, towards custom and tradition, towards order and progress. character, then, may stand for the sum of the qualities which go to make one to be _thus_, and not otherwise; but the basis which underlies and constantly reasserts itself is temperament. it makes people angry to say this, if they are determined to be so completely masters of their way in life that nothing but reason, in the natural order, shall be their guide; but though heroism of soul has overcome the greatest drawbacks of an unfortunate physical organization, these cases are rare, and in general it must be taken into account to such an extent that the battle against difficulties of temperament is the battle of a lifetime. there are certain broad divisions which although they cannot pretend to rest upon scientific principles yet appeal constantly to experience, and often serve as practical guides to forecast the lines on which particular characters may be developed. there is a very striking division into assenting and dissenting temperaments, children of _yes_ and children of _no_; a division which declares itself very early and is maintained all along the lines of early development, in mind and will and taste and manner, in every phase of activity. and though time and training and the schooling of life may modify its expression, yet below the surface it would seem only to accentuate itself, as the features of character become more marked with advancing years. where it touches the religious disposition one would say that some were born with the minds of catholics and, others of nonconformists, representing respectively centripetal and centrifugal tendencies of mind; the first apt to see harmony and order, to realize the tenth of things that must be as they are, the second born to be in opposition and with great labour subduing themselves into conformity. they are precious aids in the service of the church as controversialists when enlisted on the right side, for controversy is their element. but for positive doctrine, for keen appreciation, for persuasive action on the wills of others, they are at a disadvantage, at all events in england, where logic does not enter into the national religious system, and the mind is apt to resent conviction as if it were a kind of coercion. there are a great number of such born nonconformists in england, and when either the grace of catholic education or of conversion has been granted to them, it is interesting to watch the efforts to subdue and attune themselves to submission and to faith. sometimes the nonconformist temperament is the greatest of safeguards, where a catholic child is obliged to stand alone amongst uncongenial surroundings, then it defends itself doggedly, splendidly, and comes out after years in a protestant school quite untouched in its faith and much strengthened in militant christianity. these are cheerful instances of its development, and its advantages; they would suggest that some external opposition or friction is necessary for such temperaments that their fighting instinct may be directed against the common enemy, and not tend to arouse controversies and discussions in its own ranks or within itself. in less happy cases the instinct of opposition is a cause of endless trouble, friction in family life, difficulty in working with others, "alarums, excursions" on all sides, and worse, the get attitude of distrust towards authority, which undermines the foundations of faith and prepares the mind to break away from control, to pass from instinctive opposition to antagonism, from antagonism to contempt, from contempt to rebellion and revolt. arrogance of mind, irreverence, self-idolatry, blindness, follow in their course, and the whole nature loses its balance and becomes through pride a pitiful wreck. the assenting mind has its own possibilities for good and evil, more human than those of nonconformity, for "pride was not made for men" (ecclus. x ), less liable to great catastrophes, and in general better adapted for all that belongs to the service of god and man. it is a happy endowment, and the happiness of others is closely bound up with its own. again, its faults being more human are more easily corrected, and fortunately for the possessor, punish themselves more often. this favours truthfulness in the mind and humility in the soul--the spirit of the _confiteor_. its dangers are those of too easy assent, of inordinate pursuit of particular good, of inconstancy and variability, of all the humanistic elements which lead back to paganism. the history of the renaissance in southern europe testifies to this, as it illustrates in other countries the development of the spirit of nonconformity and revolt. calvinism and a whole group of protestant schools of thought may stand as examples of the spirit of denial working itself out to its natural consequences; while the exaggerations of italian humanism, frankly pagan, are fair illustrations of the spirit of assent carried beyond bounds. and those centuries when the tide of life ran high for good or evil, furnish instances in point abounding with interest and instruction, more easily accessible than what can be gathered from modern characters, in whom less clearly defined temperaments and more complex conditions of life have made it harder to distinguish the characteristic features of the mind. to mention only one or two--st. francis of sales and blessed thomas more were great assentors, so were pico de mirandola and the great popes of the renaissance, an example of a great nonconformist is savonarola. the old division of temperaments into phlegmatic or lymphatic, sanguine, choleric, and nervous or melancholy, is a fairly good foundation for preliminary observation, especially as each of the four subdivides itself easily into two types--the hard and soft--reforms itself easily into some cross-divisions, and refuses to be blended into others. thus a very fine type of character is seen when the characteristics of the sanguine and choleric are blended the qualities of one correcting the faults of the other, and a very poor one if a yielding lymphatic temperament has also a strain of melancholy to increase its tendency towards inaction. it is often easy to discern in a group of children the leading characteristics of these temperaments, the phlegmatic or lymphatic, hard or soft, not easily stirred, one stubborn and the other yielding, both somewhat immobile, generally straightforward and reliable, law abiding, accessible to reason, not exposed to great dangers nor likely to reach unusual heights. next the sanguine, hard or soft, as hope or enjoyment have the upper hand in them; this is the richest group in attractive power. if hope is the stronger factor there is a fund of energy which, allied with the power of charm and persuasion, with trustfulness in good, and optimistic outlook on the world, wins its way and succeeds in its undertakings, making its appeal to the will rather than to the mind. on the softer side of this type are found the disappointing people who ought to do well, and always fail, for whom the _joie de vivre_ carries everything before it, who are always good natured, always obliging, always sweet-tempered, who cannot say no, especially to themselves, whose energy is exhausted in a very short burst of effort, though ever ready to direct itself into some new channel for as brief a trial. the characters which remain "characters of great promise" to the end of their days, great promise doomed to be always unfulfilled. of all characters, these are perhaps the most disappointing; they have so much in their favour, and the one thing wanting, steadiness of purpose, renders useless their most beautiful gifts. these two groups seem to be the most common among the teutons and celts of northern europe with fair colouring and tall build; perhaps the other two types are correspondingly more numerous among the latin races. they are choleric, ambitious, or self-isolated, as the cast of their mind is eager or scornful and generally capable of dissimulation; the world is not large enough for their bonapartes. but if bitterness and sadness predominate, they are carried on an ebbing tide towards pessimism and contemptuous weariness of life; their soft type, in so far as they have one, has the softness of powder, dry and crushed, rather than that of a living organism. in children, this type, fortunately rare, has not the charm or joy of childhood, but shows a restless straining after some self-centred excellence, and a coldness of affection which indicates the isolation towards which it is carried in later life. lastly, there is the unquiet group of nervous or melancholic temperaments, their melancholy not weighed down by listless sadness as the inactive lymphatics, but more actively dissatisfied with things as they are--untiringly but unhopefully at work--hard on themselves, anxious-minded, assured that in spite of their efforts all will turn out for the worst, often scrupulous, capable of long-sustained efforts, often of heroic devotedness and superhuman endurance, for which their reward is not in this world, as the art of pleasing is singularly deficient in them. here are found the people who are "so good, but so trying," ever in a fume and fuss, who, for sheer goodness, rouse in others the spirit of contradiction. these characters are at their best in adversity, trouble stimulates them to their best efforts, whereas in easy circumstances and surrounded with affection they are apt to drop into querulous and exacting habits. if they are endowed with more than ordinary energy it is in the direction of diplomacy, and not always frank. on the whole this is the character whose features are least clearly defined, over which a certain mystery hangs, and strange experiences are not unfrequent it is difficult to deal with its elusive showings and vanishings, and this melting away and reappearing seems in some to become a habit and even a matter of choice, with a determination _not to be known_. taking these groups as a rough classification for observation of character, it is possible to get a fair idea of the raw material of a class, though it may be thankfully added that in the church no material is really raw, with the grace of baptism in the soul and later on the sacrament of penance, to clear its obscurities and explain it to itself and by degrees to transform its tendencies and with grace and guidance to give it a steady impulse towards the better things. confirmation and first communion sometimes sensibly and even suddenly transfigure a character; but even apart from such choice instances the gradual work of the sacraments brings catholic children under a discipline in which the habit of self-examination, the constant necessity for effort, the truthful avowal of being in the wrong, the acceptance of penance as a due, the necessary submissions and self-renunciations of obedience to the church, give a training of their own. so a practicing catholic child is educated unconsciously by a thousand influences, each of which, supernatural in itself, tells beyond the supernatural sphere and raises the natural qualities, by self-knowledge, by truth, by the safeguard of religion against hardness and isolation and the blindness of pride, even if the minimum of educational facilities have been at work to take advantage of these openings for good. a catholic child is a child, and keeps a childlike spirit for life, unless the early training is completely shipwrecked, and even then there are memories which are means of recovery, and the way home to the father's house is known. it may be hoped that very many never leave it, and never lose the sense of being one of the great family, "of the household of faith." they enjoy the freedom of the house, the rights of children, the ministries of all the graces which belong to the household, the power of being at home in every place because the church is there with its priesthood and its sacraments, responsible for its children, and able to supply the wants of their souls. it is scarcely possible to find among catholic children the inaccessible little bits of flint who are not _brought_ up, but bring up their own souls outside the church--proud in their isolation, most proud of never yielding inward obedience or owning themselves in the wrong, and of being sufficient for themselves. when the grace of q-od reaches them and they are admitted into the church, one of the most overwhelming experiences is that of becoming one of a family, for whom there is some one responsible, the father of the family whose authority and love pass through their appointed channels, down to the least child. there is no such thing as an orphan child within the church, there are possibilities of training and development which belong to those who have to educate the young which must appeal particularly to catholic teachers, for they know more than others the priceless value of the children with whom they have to do. children, souls, freighted for their voyage through life, vessels so frail and bound for such a port are worthy of the devoted care of those who have necessarily a lifelong influence over them, and the means of using that influence for their lifelong good ought to be a matter of most earnest study. knowledge must come before action, and first-hand knowledge, acquired by observation, is worth more than theoretic acquirements; the first may supply for the second, but not the second for the first. there are two types of educators of early childhood which no theory could produce, and indeed no theory could tell how they are produced, but they stand unrivalled--one is the english nurse and the other the irish. the english nurse is a being apart, with a profound sense of fitness in all things, herself the slave of duty; and having certain ideals transmitted, who can tell how, by an unwritten traditional code, as to what _ought to be_, and a gift of authority by which she secures that these things _shall be_, reverence for god, reverence in prayer, reverence for parents, consideration of brothers for sisters, unselfishness, manners, etc., her views on all these things are like the laws of the medes and persians "which do not alter "--and they are also holy and wholesome. the irish nurse rules by the heart, and by sympathy, by a power of self-devotion that can only be found where the love of god is the deepest love of the heart; she has no views, but--she knows. she does not need to observe--she sees' she has instincts, she never lays down a law, but she wins by tact and affection, lifting up the mind to god and subduing the will to obedience, while appearing to do nothing but love and wait. the stamp that she leaves on the earliest years of training is never entirely effaced; it remains as some instinct of faith, a habit of resignation to the will of god, and habitual recourse to prayer. both these types of educators rule by their gift from god, and it is hard to believe that the most finished training in the art of nursery management can produce anything like them, for they govern by those things that lectures and handbooks cannot teach--faith, love, and common sense. those who take up the training of the next stage have usually to learn by their own experience, and study what is given to very few as a natural endowment--the art of so managing the wills of children that without provoking resistance, yet without yielding to every fancy, they may be led by degrees to self-control and to become a law to themselves. it must be recognized from the beginning that the work is slow; if it is forced on too fast either a breaking point comes and the child, too much teased into perfection, turns in reaction and becomes self-willed and rebellious; or if, unhappily, the forcing process succeeds, a little paragon is produced like wordsworth's "model child":-- "full early trained to worship seemliness, this model of a child is never known to mix in quarrels; that were far beneath its dignity; with gifts he bubbles o'er as generous as a fountain; selfishness may not come near him, nor the little throng of flitting pleasures tempt him from his path; the wandering beggars propagate his name. dumb creatures find him tender as a nun, and natural or supernatural fear, unless it leap upon him in a dream, touches him not. to enhance the wonder, see how arch his notices, how nice his sense of the ridiculous; not blind is he to the broad follies of the licensed world, yet innocent himself withal, though shrewd, and can read lectures upon innocence; a miracle of scientific lore, ships he can guide across the pathless sea, and tell you all their cunning; he can read the inside of the earth, and spell the stars; he knows the policies of foreign lands; can string you names of districts, cities, towns, the whole world over, tight as beads of dew upon a gossamer thread; he sifts, he weighs; all things are put to question; he must live knowing that he grows wiser every day or else not live at all, and seeing too each little drop of wisdom as it falls into the dimpling cistern of his heart: for this unnatural growth the trainer blame, pity the tree,"-- "the prelude," bk. v, lines - . on the other hand if those who have to bring up children, fear too much to cross their inclinations, and so seek always the line of least resistance, teaching lessons in play, and smoothing over every rough peace of the road, the result is a weak, slack will, a mind without power of concentration, and in later life very little resourcefulness in emergency or power of bearing up under difficulties or privations. we are at present more inclined to produce these soft characters than to develop paragons. but such movements go in waves and the wave-lengths are growing shorter; we seem now to be reaching the end of a period when, as it has been expressed, "the teacher learns the lessons and says them to the child." we are beginning to outgrow too fervid belief in methods, and pattern lessons, and coming back to value more highly the habit of effort, individual work, and even the saving discipline of drudgery. _we_ are beginning, that is those who really care for children, and for character, and for life; it takes the state and its departments a long time to come up with the experience of those who actually know living children--a generation is not too much to allow for its coming to this knowledge, as we may see at present, when the drawbacks of the system of are becoming apparent at last in the eyes of the official world, having been evident for years to those whose sympathies were with the children and not with codes. america, open-minded america, is aware of all this, and is making generous educational experiments with the buoyant idealism of a young nation, an idealism that is sometimes outstripping its practical sense, quite able to face its disappointments if they come, as undoubtedly they will, and to begin again. in one point it is far ahead of us--in the understanding that a large measure of freedom is necessary for teachers. whereas we are, let us hope, at the most acute stage of state interference in details. but in spite of the systems the children live, and come up year after year, to give us fresh opportunities; and in spite of the systems something can be done with them if we take the advice of archbishop ullathorne--"trust in god and begin as you can." let us begin by learning to know them, and the knowledge of their characters is more easily gained if some cardinal points are marked, by which the unknown country may be mapped out. the selection of these cardinal points depends in part on the mind of the observer, which has more or less insight into the various manifestations of possibility and quality which may occur. it is well to observe without seeming to do so, for as shy wild creatures fly off before a too observant eye, but may be studied by a naturalist who does not appear to look at them, so the real child takes to flight if it is too narrowly watched, and leaves a self conscious little person to take its place, making off with its true self into the backwoods of some dreamland, and growing more and more reticent about its real thoughts as it gets accustomed to talk to an appreciative audience. with weighing and measuring, inspecting and reporting, exercising and rapid forcing, and comparing, applauding and tabulating results, it is difficult to see how children can escape self-consciousness and artificiality, and the enthusiasts for "child study" are in danger of making the specimen of the real child more and more rare and difficult to find, as destructive sportsmen in a new country exterminate the choice species of wild animals. too many questions put children on their guard or make them unreal; they cannot give an account of what they think and what they mean and how far they have understood, and the greater the anxiety shown to get at their real mind the less are they either able or willing to make it known; so it is the quieter and less active observers who see the most, and those who observe most are best aware how little can be known. yet there are some things which may serve as points of the compass, especially in the transitional years when the features both of face and character begin to accentuate themselves. one of these is the level of friendships. there are some who look by instinct for the friendship of those above them, and others habitually seek a lower level, where there is no call to self-restraint. boys who hang about the stables, girls who like the conversation of servants; boys and girls who make friends in sets at school, among the less desirable, generally do so from a love of ease and dislike of that restraint and effort which every higher friendship calls for; they can be _somebody_ at a very cheap cost where the standard of talk is not exacting, whereas to be with those who are striving for the best in any station makes demands which call for exertion, and the taste for this higher level, the willingness to respond to its claims, give good promise that those who have it will in their turn draw others to the things that are best. the attitude of a child towards books is also indicative of the whole background of a mind; the very way in which a book is handled is often a sign in itself of whether a child is a citizen born, or an alien, in the world for which books stand. taste in reading, both as to quality and quantity, is so obviously a guiding line that it need scarcely be mentioned. play is another line in which character shows itself, and reveals another background against which the scenes of life in the future will stand out, and in school life the keenest and best spirits will generally divide into these two groups, the readers and the players, with a few, rarely gifted, who seem to excel in both. from the readers will come those who are to influence the minds of others here, if they do not let themselves be carried out too far to keep in touch with real life. from the players will come those whose gift is readiness and decision in action, if they on their side do not remain mere players when life calls for something more. there are other groups, the born artists with their responsive minds, the "home children" for whom everything centres in their own home-world, and who have in them the making of another one in the future; the critics, standing aloof, a little peevish and very self-conscious, hardly capable of deep friendship and fastidiously dissatisfied with people and things in general; the cheerful and helpful souls who have no interests of their own but can devote themselves to help anyone; the opposite class whose life is in their own moods and feelings. many others might be added, each observer's experience can supply them, and will probably close the list with the same little group, the very few, that stand a little apart, but not aloof, children of privilege, with heaven in their eyes and a little air of mystery about them, meditative and quiet, friends of god, friends of all, loved and loving, and asking very little from the outer world, because they have more than enough within. they are classed as the dreamers, but they are really the seers. they do not ask much and they do not need much beyond a reverent guardianship, and to be let alone and allowed to grow; they will find their way for they are "taught of god." it is impossible to do more than to throw out suggestions which any child-naturalist might multiply or improve upon. the next consideration for all concerned is what to do with the acquired knowledge, and how to "bring up" in the later stages of childhood and early youth. what do we want to bring up? not good nonentities, who are merely good because they are not bad. there are too many of them already, no trouble to anyone, only disappointing, so good that they ought to be so much better, if only they _would_. but who can make them will to be something more, to become, as montalembert said, "a _fact_, instead of remaining but a shadow, an echo, or a ruin?" those who have to educate them to something higher must themselves have an idea of what they want; they must believe in the possibility of every mind and character to be lifted up to something better than it has already attained; they must themselves be striving for some higher excellence, and must believe and care deeply for the things they teach. for no one can be educated by maxim and precept; it is the life lived, and the things loved and the ideals believed in, by which we tell, one upon another. if we care for energy we call it out; if we believe in possibilities of development we almost seem to create them. if we want integrity of character, steadiness, reliability, courage, thoroughness, all the harder qualities that serve as a backbone, we, at least, make others want them also, and strive for them by the power of example that is not set as deliberate good example, for that is as tame as a precept, but the example of the life that is lived, and the truths that are honestly believed in. the gentler qualities which are to adorn the harder virtues may be more explicitly taught. it is always more easy to tone down than to brace up; there must fist be something to moderate, before moderation can be a virtue; there must be strength before gentleness can be taught, as there must be some hardness in material things to make them capable of polish. and these are qualities which are specially needed in our unsteady times, when rapid emancipation of unknown forces makes each one more personally responsible than in the past. it is an impatient age: we must learn patience; it is an age of sudden social changes: we have to make ready for adversity; it is an age of lawlessness: each one must stand upon his own guard and be his own defence; it is a selfish age, and never was unselfishness more urgently needed; love of home and love of country seem to be cooling, one as rapidly as the other: never was it more necessary to learn the spirit of self-sacrifice both for family life and the love and honour due to one's country which is also "piety" in its true sense. all these things come with our catholic faith and practice if it is rightly understood. catholic family life, catholic citizenship, catholic patriotism are the truest, the only really true, because the only types of these virtues that are founded on truth. but they do not come of themselves. many will let themselves be carried to heaven, as they hope, in the long-suffering arms of the church without either defending or adorning her by their virtues, and we shall but add to their number if we do not kindle in the minds of children the ambition to do something more, to devote themselves to the great cause, by self-sacrifice to be in some sort initiated into its spirit, and identified with it, and thus to make it worth while for others as well as for themselves that they have lived their life on earth. there is a price to be paid for this, and they must face it; a good life cannot be a soft life, and a great deal, even of innocent pleasure, has to be given up, voluntarily, to make life worth living, if it were only as a training in _doing without_. independence is a primary need for character, and independence can only be learnt by doing without pleasant things, even unnecessarily. simplicity of life is an essential for greatness of life, and the very meaning of the simple life is the laying aside of many things which tend to grow by habit into necessities. the habit of work is another necessity in any life worth living, and this is only learnt by refraining again and again from what is pleasant for the sake of what is precious. patience and thoroughness are requirements whose worth and value never come home to the average mind until they are seen in startling excellence, and it is apparent what a price must have been paid to acquire their adamant perfection, a lesson which might be the study of a lifetime. the value of time is another necessary lesson of the better life, a hard lesson, but one that makes an incalculable difference between the expert and the untried. we are apt to be always in a hurry now, for obvious reasons which hasten the movement of life, but not many really know how to use time to the full. our tendency is to alternate periods of extreme activity with intervals of complete prostration for recovery. perhaps our grandparents knew better in a slower age the use of time. the old marquise de gramont, aged , after receiving extreme unction, asked for her knitting, for the poor. "mais madame la marquise a ete administree, elle va mourir!" said the maid, who thought the occupation of dying sufficient for a lady of her age. "ma chere, ce n'est pas une raison pour perdre son temps," answered the indomitable marquise. it is told of her also that when one of her children asked for some water in summer, between meals, she replied: "mon enfant, vous ne serez jamais qu'un etre manque, une pygmee, si vous prenez ces habitudes-la, pensez, mon petit coeur, au fiel de notre seigneur jesus christ, et vous aurez le courage d'attendre le diner." she had learned for herself the strength of _going without_. one more lesson must be mentioned, the hardest of all to be learnt--perfect sincerity. it is so hard not to pose, for all but the very truest and simplest natures--to pose as independent, being eaten up with human respect; to pose as indifferent though aching with the wish to be understood; to pose as flippant while longing to be in earnest; to hide an attraction to higher things under a little air of something like irreverence. it is strange that this kind of pose is considered as less insincere than the opposite class, which is rather out of fashion for this very reason, yet to be untrue to one's better self is surely an unworthier insincerity than to be ashamed of the worst. perhaps the best evidence of this is the costliness of the effort to overcome it, and the more observation and reflection we spend on this point the more shall we be convinced that it is very hard to learn to be quite true, and that it entails more personal self-sacrifice than almost any other virtue. in conclusion, the means for training character may be grouped under the following headings:-- . contact with those who have themselves attained to higher levels, either parent, or teacher, or friend. perhaps at present the influence of a friend is greater than that of any power officially set over us, so jealous are we of control. so much the better chance for those who have the gift even in mature age of winning the friendship of children, and those who have just outgrown childhood. in these friendships the great power of influence is hopefulness, to believe in possibilities of good, and to expect the best. . vigilance, not the nervous vigilance, unquiet and anxious, which rouses to mischief the sporting instinct of children and stings the rebellious to revolt, but the vigilance which, open and confident itself, gives confidence, nurtures fearlessness, and brings a steady pressure to be at one's best. vigilance over children is no insult to their honour, it is rather the right of their royalty, for they are of the blood royal of christianity, and deserve the guard of honour which for the sake of their royalty does not lose sight of them. . criticism and correction. to be used with infinite care, but never to be neglected without grave injustice. it is not an easy thing to reprove in the right time, in the right tone, without exasperation, without impatience, without leaving a sting behind; to dare to give pain for the sake of greater good; to love the truth and have courage to tell it; to change reproof as time goes on to the frank criticism of friendship that is ambitious for its friend. to accept criticism is one of the greatest lessons to be learnt in life. to give it well is an art which requires more study and more self-denial than either the habit of being easily satisfied and requiring little, or the querulous habit of "scolding" which is admirably described by bishop hedley as "the resonance of the empty intelligence and of the hollow heart of the man who has nothing to give, nothing to propose, nothing to impart." . discipline and obedience. if these are to be means of training they must be living and not dead powers, and they must lead up to gradual self-government, not to sudden emancipation. obedience must be first of all to persons, prompt and unquestioning, then to laws, a "reasonable service," then to the wider law which each one must enforce from within--the law of love which is the law of liberty of the kingdom of god. these are the means which in her own way, and through various channels of authority, the church makes use of, and the church is the great mother who educates us all. she takes us into her confidence, as we make ourselves worthy of it, and shows us out of her treasures things new and old. she sets the better things always before us, prays for us, prays with us, teaches us to pray, and so "lifts up our minds to heavenly desires." she watches over us with un anxious, but untiring vigilance, setting her bishops and pastors to keep watch over the flock, collectively and individually, "with that most perfect care" that st. francis of sales describes as "that which approaches the nearest to the care god has of us, which is a care full of tranquillity and quietness, and which, in its highest activity, has still no emotion, and being only one, yet condescends to make itself all to all things." criticism and correction, discipline and obedience--these things are administered by the church our mother, gently but without weakness, so careful is she in her warnings, so slow in her punishments, so unswervingly true to what is of principle, and asking so persuasively not for the sullen obedience of slaves, but for the free and loving submission of sons and daughters. chapter iii. character ii. "the parts and signes of goodnesse are many. if a man be gracious and curteous to strangers, it shewes he is a citizen of the world, and that his heart is no island cut off from other lands, but a continent that joynes to them. if he be compassionate towards the afflictions of others, it shewes that his heart is like the noble tree, that is wounded to selfe when it gives balme. if he easily pardons and remits offences, it shewes that his minde is planted above injuries, so that he cannot be shot. if he be thankfull for small benefits, it shewes that he weighes men's mindes, and not their trash. but above all, if he have st. paul's perfection, that he would wish to be an anathema from christ, for the salvation of his brethren, it shewes much of a divine nature, and a kinde of conformity with christ himselfe."--bacon, "of goodnesse." no one who has the good of children at heart, and the training of their characters, can leave the subject without some grave thoughts on the formation of their own character, which is first in order of importance, and in order of time must go before, and accompany their work to the very end. "what is developed to perfection can make other things like unto itself." so saints develop sanctity in others, and truth and confidence beget truth and confidence, and the spirit of enterprise calls out the spirit of enterprise, and constancy trains to endurance and perseverance, and wise kindness makes others kind, and courage makes them courageous, and in its degree each good quality tends to reproduce itself in others. children are very delicately sensitive to these influences, they respond unconsciously to what is expected of them, and instinctively they imitate the models set before them. they catch a tone, a gesture, a trick of manner with a quickness that is startling. the influence of mind and thought on mind and thought cannot be so quickly recognized, but tells with as much certainty, and enters more deeply into the character for life. the consideration of this is a great incentive to the acquirement of self-knowledge and self-discipline by those who have to do with children. the old codes of conventionality in education, which stood for a certain system in their time, are disappearing, and the worth of the individual becomes of greater importance. this is true of those who educate and of those whom they bring up. as the methods of modern warfare call for more individual resourcefulness, so do the methods of the spiritual warfare, now that we are not supported by big battalions, but each one is thrown back on conscience and personal responsibility. girls as well as boys have to be trained to take care of themselves and be responsible for themselves, and if they are not so trained, no one can now be responsible for them or protect them in spite of themselves. therefore, the first duty of those who are bringing up catholic girls is to be themselves such as catholic girls must be later on. this example is a discourse "in the vulgar tongue" which cannot be misunderstood, and example is not resented unless it seems self-conscious and presented of set purpose. the one thing necessary is to be that which we ought to be, and that is to say, in other words, that the fundamental virtue in teaching children is a great and resolute sincerity. sincerity is a difficult virtue to practise and is too easily taken for granted. it has more enemies than appear at first sight. inertness of mind, the desire to do things cheaply, dislike of mental effort, the tendency to be satisfied with appearances, the wish to shine, impatience for results, all foster intellectual insincerity; just as, in conduct, the wish to please, the spirit of accommodation and expediency, the fear of blame, the instinct of concealment, which is inborn in many girls, destroy frankness of character and make people untrue who would not willingly be untruthful. yet even truthfulness is not such a matter of course as many would be willing to assume. to be inaccurate through thoughtless laziness in the use of words is extremely common, to exaggerate according to the mood of the moment, to say more than one means and cover one's retreat with "i didn't mean it," to pull facts into shape to suit particular ends, are demoralizing forms of untruthfulness, common, but often unrecognized. if a teacher could only excel in one high quality for training girls, probably the best in which she could excel would be a great sincerity, which would train them in frankness, and in the knowledge that to be entirely frank means to lay down a great price for that costly attainment, a perfectly honourable and fearless life. [ --"a woman, if it be once known that she is deficient in truth, has no resource. have, by a misuse of language, injured or lost her only means of persuasion, nothing can preserve her from falling into contempt of nonentity. when she is no longer to be believed no on will take the trouble to listen to her...no one can depend on her, no on rests any hope on her, the words of which she makes use have no meaning." --madame necker de saussure, "progressive education."] it sometimes happens that the realization of this truth comes comparatively late in life to those who ought to have recognized it years before. thinking along the surface of things, and in particular repeating catchwords and platitudes and trite maxims on the subject of sincerity, is apt to make us believe that we possess the quality we talk about, and as it is impossible to have anything to do with the education of children without treating of sincerity and truthfulness, it is comparatively easy to slip into the happy assumption that one is truthful, because one would not deliberately be otherwise. but it takes far more than this to acquire real sincerity of life in the complexity and artificiality of the conditions in which we live. "and we have been on many thousand lines, and we have shown, on each, spirit and power; but hardly have we, for one little hour, been on our own line, have we been ourselves. * * * * "our hidden self, and what we say and do is eloquent, is well--but 'tis not true!" matthew arnold, "the buried life." sincerity requires the recognition that to be honestly oneself is more impressive for good than to be a very superior person by imitation. it requires the renunciation of some claims to consideration and esteem, and the acceptance of limitations (a different thing from acquiescence in them, for it means the acceptance of a lifelong effort to be what we aspire to be, with a knowledge that we shall never fully attain it). it requires that we should bear the confusion of defeat without desisting from the struggle, that we should accept the progressive illumination of what is still unaccomplished, and keep the habitual lowliness of a beginner with the unconquerable hopefulness which comes of a fixed resolution to win what is worth winning. let those who have tried say whether this is easy. but in guiding children along this difficult way it is not wise to call direct attention to it, lest their inexperience and sensitiveness should turn to scrupulosity and their spontaneity be paralysed. it is both more acceptable and healthier to present it as a feat of courage, a habit of fearlessness to be acquired, of hardihood and strength of character. the more subtle forms of self-knowledge belong to a later period in life. another quality to be desired in those who have to do with children is what may--for want of a better word--be called vitality, not the fatiguing artificial animation which is sometimes assumed professionally by teachers, but the keenness which shows forth a settled conviction that life is worth living. the expression of this is not self asserting or controversial, for it is not like a garment put on, but a living grace of soul, coming from within, born of straight thinking and resolution, and so strongly confirmed by faith and hope that nothing can discourage it or make it let go. it is a bulwark against the faults which sink below the normal line of life, dullness, depression, timidity, procrastination, sloth and sadness, moodiness, unsociability--all these it tends to dispel, by its quiet and confident gift of encouragement. and though so contrary to the spirit of childhood, these faults are found in children--often in delicate children who have lost confidence in themselves from being habitually outdone by stronger brothers and sisters, or in slow minds which seem "stupid" to others and to themselves, or in natures too sensitive to risk themselves in the melee. to these, one who brings the gift of encouragement comes as a deliverer and often changes the course of their life, leading them to believe in themselves and their own good endowments, making them taste success which rouses them to better efforts, giving them the strong comfort of knowing that something is expected of them, and that if they will only try, in one way if not in another, they need not be behind the best. at some stage in life, and especially in the years of rapid growth, we all need encouragement, and often characters that seem to require only repression are merely singing out of tune from the effort to hold out against blank discouragement at their failures to "be good," or to divert their mind forcibly from their fits of depression. to be scolded accentuates their trouble and tends to harden them; to grow a shell of hardness seems for the moment their only defence; but if some one will meet their efforts half-way, believing in them with a tranquil conviction that they will live through these difficulties and _find themselves_ in due time, they can be saved from much unhappiness of their own making, though not of their own fault, and their growth will not be arrested behind an unnatural shell of defence. the strong vitality and gift of encouragement which can give this help are also of value in saving from the morbid and exaggerated friendships which sometimes spoil the best years of a girl's education. if the character of those who teach them has force enough not only to inspire admiration but to call out effort, it may rouse the mind and will to a higher plane and make the things of which it disapproves seem worthless. there are moments when the leading mind must have strength enough for two, but this must not last. its glory is to raise the mind of the learner to equality with itself, not to keep it in leading strings, but to make it grow so that, as the master has often been outstripped by the scholar, the efforts of the younger may even stimulate the achievements of the elder, and thus a noble friendship be formed in the pursuit of what is best. educators of youth are exposed to certain professional dangers, which lie very close to professional excellences of character. there is the danger of remaining young for the sake of children, so that something of mature development will be lacking. if there is not a stimulus from outside, and it is not supplied for by an inward determination to grow, the mental development may be arrested and contented-ness at a low level be mistaken for the limit of capacity. a great many people are mentally lazy, and only too ready to believe that they can do no more. many teachers are yoked to an examination programme sufficiently loaded to call for a great deal of pressure along a low level, and they may easily mistake this harassing activity for real mental work, and either be indeed hindered, or consider themselves absolved from anything more. the penalty of it is a gradual decline of the unused powers, growing difficulty of sustained attention, dislike for what requires effort of mind, loss of wider interests, restlessness and superficiality in reading, and other indications of diminution of power in the years when it ought to be on the increase. is this the fault of those who so decline in power? it would be hard to say that it is so universally, for some no doubt are pressed through necessity to the very limits of their time and of their endurance. yet experience goes to prove that if a mental awakening really takes place the most unfavourable circumstances will not hinder a rapid development of power. abundance of books and leisure and fostering conditions are helps but not essentials for mental growth. if few books can be had, but these are of the best, they will do more for the mind by continued reading than abundance for those who have not yet learned to use it. if there is little leisure the value of the hardly-spared moments is enhanced; we may convince ourselves of this in the lives of those who have reached eminence in learning, through circumstances apparently hopeless. if the conditions of life are unfavourable, it is generally possible to find one like-minded friend who will double our power by quickening enthusiasm or by setting the pace at which we must travel, and leading the way. there may be side by side in the same calling in life persons doing similar work in like circumstances, with like resources, of whom one is contentedly stagnating, feeling satisfied all the time that duty is done and nothing neglected--and this may be true up to a certain point--while the other is haunted by a blessed dissatisfaction, urged from within to seek always something better, and compelling circumstances to minister to the growth of the mind. one who would meet these two again after the interval of a few months would be astonished at the distance which has been left between them by the stagnation of one and the advance of the other. another danger is that of becoming dogmatic and dictatorial from the habit of dealing with less mature intelligences, from the absence of contradiction and friction among equals, and the want of that most perfect discipline of the mind--intercourse with intellectual superiors. of course it is a mark of ignorance to become oracular and self-assured, but it needs watchfulness to guard against the tendency if one is always obliged to take the lead. teaching likewise exposes to faults perhaps less in themselves but far reaching in their effect upon children; a little observation will show how the smallest peculiarities tell upon them, either by affecting their dispositions or being caught by them and reproduced. to take one example among many, the pitch and intonation of the voice often impress more than the words. a nurse with a querulous tone has a restless nursery; she makes the high-spirited contradictory and the delicate fretful. in teaching, a high-pitched voice is exciting and wearing to children; certain cadences that end on a high note rouse opposition, a monotonous intonation wearies, deeper and more ample tones are quieting and reassuring, but if their solemnity becomes exaggerated they provoke a reaction. most people have a certain cadence which constantly recurs in their speaking and is characteristic of them, and the satisfaction of listening to them depends largely upon this characteristic cadence. it is also a help in the understanding of their characters. much trouble of mind is saved by recognizing that a certain cadence which sounds indignant is only intended to be convincing, and that another which sounds defiant is only giving to itself the signal for retreat. again, for the teacher's own sake, it is good to observe that there are tones which dispose towards obedience, and others which provoke remonstrance and, as mme. necker de saussure remarks: "it is of great consequence to prevent remonstrances and not allow girls to form a habit of contradicting and cavilling, or to prolong useless opposition which annoys others and disturbs their own peace of mind." there are "teacher's manners" in many varieties, often spoiling admirable gifts and qualities, for the professional touch in this is not a grace but puts both children and "grown-ups" on the defensive. there is the head mistress's manner which is a signal to proceed with caution, the modern "form mistress's" or class mistress's manner, with an off-hand tone destined to reassure by showing that there is nothing to be afraid of, the science mistress's manner with a studied quietness and determination that the knife-edge of the balance shall be the standard of truthfulness, the professionally encouraging manner, the "stimulating" manner, the manner of those whose ambition is to be "an earnest teacher," the strained tone of one whose ideal is to to be overworked, the kindergarten manner, scientifically "awakening," giving the call of the decoy-duck, confidentially inviting co operation and revealing secrets--these are types, but there are many others. such mannerisms would seem to be developed by reliance on books of method, by professional training imparted to those who have not enough originality to break through the mould, and instead of following out principles as lines for personal experiment and discovery, deaden them into rules and abide by them. the teacher's manner is much more noticeable among those who have been trained than among the now vanishing class of those who have had to stand or fall by their own merits, and find out their own methods. the advantage is not always with the trained teacher even now, and the question of manner is not one of minor importance. the true instinct of children and the sensitiveness of youth detect very quickly and resent a professional tone; a child looks for freedom and simplicity, and feels cramped if it meets with something even a little artificial. children like to find _real people_, not anxiously careful to improve them, but able to take life with a certain spontaneity as they like to take it themselves. they are frightened by those who take themselves too seriously, who are too acute, too convincing or too brilliant; they do not like people who appear to be always on the alert, nor those of extreme temperatures, very ardent or very frigid. the people whom they like and trust are usually quiet, simple people, who have not startling ways, and do not manifest those strenuous ideals which destroy all sense of leisure in life. not only little children but those who are growing up resent these mannerisms and professional ways. they, too, ask for a certain spontaneity and like to find a _real person_ whom they can understand. abstract principles do not appeal to them, but they can understand and appreciate character, not in one type and pattern alone, for every character that has life and truth commands their respect and is acceptable in one way if not in another. it is not the bright colours of character alone which attract them, they often keep a lifelong remembrance of those whose qualities are anything but showy. they look for fairness in those who govern them, but if they find this they can accept a good measure of severity. they respect unflinching uprightness and are quick to detect the least deviation from it. they prefer to be taken seriously on their own ground; things in general are so incomprehensible that it only makes matters worse to be approached with playful methods and facetious invitations into the unknown, for who can tell what educational ambush for their improvement may be concealed behind these demonstrations. they give their confidence more readily to grave and quiet people who do not show too rapturous delight in their performances, or surprise at their opinions, or--especially--distress at their ignorance. they admire with lasting admiration those who are hard on themselves and take their troubles without comment or complaint. they admire courage, and they can appreciate patience if it does not seem to be conscious of itself. but they do not look up to a character in which mildness so predominates that it cannot be roused to indignation and even anger in a good cause. a power of being roused is felt as a force in reserve, and the knowledge that it is there is often enough to maintain peace and order without any need for interference or remonstrance. they are offended by a patience which looks like weariness, determined if it were at the last gasp to "improve the occasion" and say something of educational profit. to "improve the occasion" really destroys the opportunity; it is like a too expansive invitation to birds to come and feed, which drives them off in a nutter. birds come most willingly when crumbs are thrown as it were by accident while the benefactor looks another way; and young minds pick up gratefully a suggestion which seems to fall by the way, a mere hint that things are understood and cared about, that there is safety beyond the thin ice if one trusts and believes, that "all shall be well" if people will be true to their best thoughts. they can understand these assurances and accept them when something more explicit would drive them back to bar the door against intruders. all these are truisms to those who have observed children. the misfortune is that in spite of the prominence given to training of teachers, of the new name of "child study" and its manuals, there are many who teach children without reaching their real selves. if the children could combine the result of their observations and bring out a manual of "teacher study" we should have strange revelations as to how it looks from the other side. we should be astonished at the shrewdness of the small juries that deliberate, and the insight of the judges that pronounce sentence upon us, and we should be convinced that to obtain a favourable verdict we needed very little subtlety, and not too much theory, but as much as possible of the very things we look for as the result and crown of our work. we labour to produce character, we must have it. we look for courage and uprightness, we must bring them with us. we want honest work, we have to give proof of it ourselves. and so with the christian qualities which we hope to build on these foundations. we care for the faith of the children, it must abound in us. we care for the innocence of their life, we must ourselves be heavenly minded, we want them to be unworldly and ready to make sacrifices for their religion, they must understand that it is more than all the world to us. we want to secure them as they grow up against the spirit of pessimism, our own imperturbable hope in god and confidence in the church will be more convincing than our arguments. we want them to grow into the fulness of charity, we must make charity the most lovable and lovely thing in the world to them. the church possesses the secrets of these things; she is the great teacher of all nations and brings out of her treasury things new and old for the training of her children. a succession of teaching orders of religious, representing different patterns of education, has gone forth with her blessing to supply the needs of succeeding generations in each class of the christian community. when children cannot be brought up in their own homes, religious seem to be designated as their natural guardians, independent as they are by their profession from the claims of personal interest and self-advancement, and therefore free to give their full sympathy and devotion to the children under their charge. they have also the independence of their corporate life, a great power behind the service of the schoolroom in which they find mutual support, an "upper boom" to which they can withdraw and build up again in prayer and intercourse with one another their ideals of life and duty in an atmosphere which gives a more spiritual re-renewal of energy than a holiday of entire forgetfulness. it is striking to observe that while the so-called catholic countries are banishing religious from their schools, there is more and more inclination among non-catholic parents who have had experience of other systems to place their children under the care of religious. and it was strange to hear one of his majesty's inspectors express his conviction that "it would be ideal if all england could be taught by nuns!" thus indirect testimony comes from friendly or hostile sources to the fact that the church holds the secret of education, and every catholic teacher may gain courage from the knowledge of having that which is beyond all price in the education of children, that which all the world is seeking for, and which the church alone knows that she possesses in its fulness. chapter iv. the elements of catholic philosophy. "e quosto ti sia sempre piombo ai piedi, per farti mover lento, com' uom lasso, ed al si ed al no, che tu non vedi; che quegli e tra gli stolti bene abbasso, che senza disfcinzion afferma o nega, nell' un cosi come nell' altro passo; perch' egl' incontra che piu volte piega l' opinion corrente in falsa parte, e poi l' affetto lo intelletto lega. vie piu che indarno da riva si parte, perche non toma tal qual ei si move, chi pesca per lo vero e noil ha l' arte." dante, "paradiso," canto xiii. the elements of catholic philosophy may no longer be looked upon as out of place in the education of our girls, or as being reserved for the use of learned women and girlish oddities. they belong to every well-grounded catholic education, and the need for them will be felt more and more. they are wanted to balance on the one hand the unthinking impulse of living for the day, which asks no questions so long as the "fun" holds out, and on the other to meet the urgency of problems which press upon the minds of the more thoughtful as they grow up. when this teaching has been long established as part of an educational plan it has been found to give steadiness and unity to the whole; something to aim at from the beginning, and in the later years of a girl's education something which will serve as foundation for all branches of future study, so that each will find its place among the first principles, not isolated from the others but as part of a whole. the value of these elements for the practical guidance of life is likewise very great. a hold is given in the mind to the teaching of religion and conduct which welds into one defence the best wisdom of this world and of the next. for instance, the connexion between reason and faith being once established, the fear of permanent disagreement between the two, which causes so much panic and disturbance of mind, is set at rest. there is a certain risk at the outset of these studies that girls will take the pose of philosophical students, and talk logic and metaphysics, to the confusion of their friends and of their own feelings later on, when they come to years of discretion and realize the absurdity of these "lively sallies," as they would have been called in early victorian times--the name alone might serve as a warning to the incautious! they may perhaps go through an argumentative period and trample severely upon the opinions of those who are not ready to have their majors "distinguished" and their minors "conceded," and, especially, their conclusions denied. but these phases will be outlived and the hot-and-cold remembrance of them will be sufficient expiation, with the realization that they did not know much when they had taken in the "beggarly elements" which dazzled them for a moment. the more thoughtful minds will escape the painful phase altogether. there are three special classes among girls whose difficulties of mind call for attention. there are those who frisk playfully along, taking the good things of life as they come--"the more the better"--whom, as children, it is hard to call to account. they are lightly impressed and only for a moment by the things they feel, and scarcely moved at all by the things they understand. the only side which seems troublesome in their early life is that there is so little hold upon it. they are unembarrassed and quite candid about their choice; it is the enjoyable good, life on its pleasantest side. and this disposition is in the mind as well as in the will; they cannot see it in any other way. restraint galls them, and their inclination is not to resist but to evade it. these are kitten-like children in the beginning, and they appear charming. but when the kitten in them is overgrown, its playful evasiveness takes an ugly contour and shows itself as want of principle. the tendency to snatch at enjoyment hardens into a grasping sense of market values, and conscience, instead of growing inexorable, learns to be pliant to circumstances. debts weigh lightly, and duties scarcely weigh at all. concealment and un-truthfulness come in very easily to save the situation in a difficulty, and once the conduct of life is on the down-grade it slides quickly and far, for the sense of responsibility is lacking and these natures own no bond of obligation. they have their touch of piety in childhood, but it soon wears off, and in its best days cannot stand the demands made upon it by duty; it fails of its hold upon the soul, like a religion without a sacrifice. in these minds some notions of ethics leave a barbed arrow of remorse which penetrates further than piety. they may soothe themselves with the thought that god will easily forgive, later on, but they cannot quite lose consciousness of the law which does not forgive, of the responsibility of human acts and the inevitable punishment of wrong-doing which works itself out, till it calls for payment of the last farthing. and by this rough way of remorse they may come back to god. pope leo xiii spoke of it as their best hope, an almost certain means of return. the beautiful also may make its appeal to these natures on their best side, and save them preventively from themselves, but only if the time of study is prolonged enough for the laws of order and beauty to be made comprehensible to them, so that if they admire the best, remorse may have another hold and reproach them with a lowered ideal. in opposition to these are the minds to which, as soon as they become able to think for themselves, all life is a puzzle, and on every side, wherever they turn, they are baffled by unanswerable questions. these questions are often more insistent and more troublesome because they cannot be asked, they have not even taken shape in the mind. but they haunt and perplex it. are they the only ones who do not know? is it clear to every one else? this doubt makes it difficult even to hint at the perplexity. these are often naturally religious minds, and outside the guidance of the catholic church, in search of truth, they easily fall under the influence of different schools of thought which take them out of their depth, and lead them further and further from the reasonable certainty about first principles which they are in search of. within the church, of course, they can never stray so far, and the truths of faith supply their deepest needs. but if they want to know more, to know something of themselves, and to have at least some rational knowledge of the universe, then to give them a hold on the elements of philosophical knowledge is indeed a mental if not a spiritual work of mercy, for it enables them to set their ideas in order by the light of a few first principles, it shows them on what plane their questions lie, it enables them to see how all knowledge and new experience have connexions with what has gone before, and belong to a whole with a certain fitness and proportion. they learn also thus to take themselves in hand in a reasonable way; they gain some power of attributing effects to their true causes, so as neither to be unduly alarmed nor elated at the various experiences through which they will pass. between these two divisions lies a large group, that of the "average person," not specially flighty and not particularly thoughtful. but the average person is of very great importance. the greatest share in the work of the world is probably done by "average" people, not only for the obvious reason that there are more of them, but also because they are more accessible, more reliable, and more available for all kinds of responsibility than those who have made themselves useless by want of principle, or those whose genius carries them away from the ordinary line. they are accessible because their fellow-creatures are not afraid of them; they are not too fine for ordinary wear, nor too original to be able to follow a line laid down for them, and if they take a line of their own it is usually intelligible to others. to these valuable "average" persons the importance of some study of the elements of philosophy is very great. they can hardly go through an elementary course of mental science without wishing to learn more, and being lifted to a higher plane. the weak point in the average person is a tendency to sink into the commonplace, because the consciousness of not being brilliant induces timidity, and timidity leads to giving up effort and accepting a fancied impossibility of development which from being supposed, assumed, and not disturbed, becomes in the end real. on the other hand the strong point of the average person is very often common sense, that singular, priceless gift which gives a touch of likeness among those who possess it in all classes, high or low--in the sovereign, the judge, the ploughman, or the washerwoman, a likeness that is somewhat like a common language among them and makes them almost like a class apart. minds endowed with common sense are an aristocracy among the "average," and if this quality of theirs is lifted above the ordinary round of business and trained in the domain of thought it becomes a sound and wide practical judgment. it will observe a great sobriety in its dealings with the abstract; the concrete is its kingdom, but it will rule the better for having its ideas systematized, and its critical power developed. self-diffidence tends to check this unduly, and it has to be strengthened in reasonably supporting its own opinion which is often instinctively true, but fails to find utterance. it is a help to such persons if they can learn to follow the workings of their own mind and gain confidence in their power to understand, and find some intellectual interest in the drudgery which in every order of things, high or low, is so willingly handed over to their good management. these results may not be showy, but it is a great thing to strengthen an "average" person, and the reward of doing so is sometimes the satisfaction of seeing that average mind rise in later years quite above the average and become a tower of steady reflection; while to itself it is a new life to gain a view of things as a whole, to find that nothing stands alone, but that the details which it grasps in so masterly a manner have their place and meaning in the scheme of the universe. it is evident that even this elementary knowledge cannot be given in the earliest years of the education of girls, and that it is only possible to attempt it in schools and school-rooms where they can be kept on for a longer time of study. every year that can be added to the usual course is of better value, and more appreciated, except by those who are restless to come out as soon as possible. no reference is made here to those exceptional cases in which girls are allowed to begin a course of study at a time when the majority have been obliged to finish their school life. as the elements of philosophy are not ordinarily found in the curriculum of girls' schools or schoolroom plans, it may not be out of place to say a few words on the method of bringing the subject within their reach. in the first place it should be kept in view from the beginning, and some preparation be made for it even in teaching the elements of subjects which are most elementary. thus the study of any grammar may serve remotely as an introduction to logic, even english grammar which, beyond a few rudiments, is a most disinterested study, valuable for its by-products more than for its actual worth. but the practice of grammatical analysis is certainly a preparation for logic, as logic is a preparation for the various branches of philosophy. again some preliminary exercises in definition, and any work of the like kind which gives precision in the use of language, or clear ideas of the meanings of words, is preparatory work which trains the mind in the right direction. in the same way the elements of natural science may at least set the thoughts and inquiries of children on the right track for what will later on be shown to them as the "disciplines" of cosmology and pyschology. to make preparatory subjects serve such a purpose it is obviously required that the teachers of even young children should have been themselves trained in these studies, so far at least as to know what they are aiming at, to be able to lay foundations which will not require to be reconstructed. it is not the matter so much as the habits of mind and work that are remotely prepared in the early stages, but without some knowledge of what is coming afterwards this preparation cannot be made. in order of arrangement it is not possible for the different branches to be taught to girls according to their normal sequence; they have to be adapted to the capacity of the minds and their degree of development. some branches cannot even be attempted during the school-room years, except so far as to prepare the mind incidentally during the study of other branches. the explanation of certain terms and fundamental notions will serve as points of departure when opportunities for development are accessible later on, as architects set "toothings" at the angles of buildings that they may be bonded into later constructions. by this means the names of the more abstruse branches are kept out of sight, and it is emphasized that the barest elements alone are within reach at present, so that the permanent impression may be--not "how much i have learned," but "how little i know and how much there is to learn." this secures at least a fitting attitude of mind in those who will never go further, and increases the thirst of those who really want more. the most valuable parts of philosophy in the education of girls are:-- . those which belong to the practical side--logic, for thought; ethics, for conduct; aesthetics, for the study of the arts. . in speculative philosophy the "disciplines" which are most accessible and most necessary are psychology, and natural theology which is the very crown of all that they are able to learn. general metaphysics and cosmology, and in pyschology the subordinate treatises of criteriology and idealogy are beyond their scope. logic, as a science, is not a suitable introduction, though some general notions on the subject are necessary as preliminary instructions. cardinal mercier presents these under "propaedeutics," even for his grown-up scholars, placing logic properly so called in its own rank as the complement of the other treatises of speculative philosophy, seen in retrospect, a science of rational order amongst sciences. the "notions of logic" with which he introduces the other branches are, says the cardinal, so plain that it is almost superfluous to enumerate them, "_tant elles sont de simple bon sens_," [ --"traite elfementaire de philosophie," vol. i, introduction.] and he disposes of them in two pages of his textbook. obviously this is not so simple when it comes to preparing the fallow ground of a girl's mind; but it gives some idea of the proportion to be observed in the use of this instrument at the outset, and may save both the teacher and the child from beguiling themselves to little purpose among the moods and figures of the syllogism. the preliminary notions of logic must be developed, extended, and supplemented through the whole course as necessity arises, just as they have been already anticipated through the preparatory work done in every elementary subject. this method is not strictly scientific nor in accordance with the full-grown course of philosophy; it only claims to have "_le simple bon sens_" in its favour, and the testimony of experience to prove that it is of use. and it cannot be said to be wholly out of rational order if it follows the normal development of a growing mind, and answers questions as they arise and call for solution. it may be a rustic way of learning the elements of philosophy, but it answers its purpose, and does not interfere with more scientific and complete methods which may come later in order of time. the importance of the "discipline" of psychology can scarcely be over-estimated. with that of ethics it gives to the minds of women that which they most need for the happy attainment of their destiny in any sphere of life and for the fulfilment of its obligations. they must know themselves and their own powers in order to exercise control and direction on the current of their lives. the complaint made of many women is that they are wanting in self-control, creatures of impulse, erratic, irresponsible, at the mercy of chance influences that assume control of their lives for the moment, subject to "nerves," carried away by emotional enthusiasm beyond all bounds, and using a blind tenacity of will to land themselves with the cause they have embraced in a dead-lock of absurdity. such is the complaint. it would seem more pardonable if this tendency to extremes and impulsiveness were owned to as a defect. but to be erratic is almost assumed as a pose. it is taken up as if self-discipline were dull, and control reduced vitality and killed the interest of life. the phase may not last, stronger counsels may prevail again. in a few years it may be hoped that this school of "impressionism" in conduct will be out of vogue, but for the moment it would seem as if its weakness and mobility, and restlessness were rather admired. it has created a kind of automobilism--if the word may be allowed--of mind and manners, an inclination to be perpetually "on the move," too much pressed for time to do anything at all, permanently unsettled, in fact to be _unsettled_ is its habitual condition if not its recognized plan of life. it is not contended that psychology and ethics would of themselves cure this tendency, but they would undoubtedly aid in doing so, for the confusion of wanting to do better and yet not knowing what to do is a most pathetic form of helplessness. a little knowledge of psychology would at least give an idea of the resources which the human soul has at its command when it seeks to take itself in hand. it would allow of some response to a reasonable appeal from outside. and all the time the first principles of ethics would refuse to be killed in the mind, and would continue to bear witness against the waste of existence and the diversion of life from its true end. rational principles of aesthetics belong very intimately to the education of women. their ideas of beauty, their taste in art, influence very powerfully their own lives and those of others, and may transfigure many things which are otherwise liable to fall into the commonplace and the vulgar. if woman's taste is trained to choose the best, it upholds a standard which may save a generation from decadence. this concerns the beautiful and the fitting in all things where the power of art makes itself felt as "the expression of an ideal in a concrete work capable of producing an impression and attaching the beholder to that ideal which it presents for admiration." [ --cardinal mercier, "general metaphysics," part iv., ch. iv.] it touches on all questions of taste, not only in the fine arts but in fiction, and furniture, and dress, and all the minor arts of life and adaptation of human skill to the external conditions of living. the importance of all these in their effect on the happiness and goodness of a whole people is a plea for not leaving out the principles of aesthetics, as well as the practice of some form of art from the education of girls. the last and most glorious treatise in philosophy of which some knowledge can be given at the end of a school course is that of natural theology. if it is true, as they say, that st. thomas aquinas at the age of five years used to go round to the monks of monte cassino pulling them down by the sleeve to whisper his inquiry, "quid est deus"? it may be hoped that older children are not incapable of appreciating some of the first notions that may be drawn from reason about the creator, those truths "concerning the existence of god which are the supreme conclusion and crown of the department of physics, and those concerning his nature which apply the truths of general metaphysics to a determinate being, the absolutely perfect." [ --cardinal mercier, "natural theology," introduction.] it is in the domain of natural theology that they will often find a safeguard against difficulties which may occur later in life, when they meet inquirers whose questions about god are not so ingenuous as that of the infant st. thomas. the armour of their faith will not be so easily pierced by chance shots as if they were without preparation, and at the same time they will know enough of the greatness of the subject not to challenge "any unbeliever" to single combat, and undertake to prove against all opponents the existence and perfections of god. for instruction as well as for defence the relation of philosophy to revealed truth should be explained. it is necessary to point out that while science has its own sphere within which it is independent, having its own principles and methods and means of certitude, [ --de bonald and others were condemned and reproved by gregory xvi for teaching that reason drew its first principles and grounds of certitude from revelation.] yet the church as the guardian of revealed truth is obliged to prosecute for trespass those who in teaching any science encroach by affirmation or contradiction on the domain of revelation. to sum up, therefore, logic can train the students to discriminate between good and bad arguments, which few ordinary readers can do, and not even every writer. ethics teaches the rational basis of morals which it is useful for all to know, and psychology can teach to discriminate between the acts of intellect and will on the one hand and imagination and emotion on the other, and so furnish the key to many a puzzle of thought that has led to false and dangerous theorizing. the method of giving instruction in the different branches of philosophy will depend so much on the preparation of the particular pupils, and also on the cast of mind of the teachers, that it is difficult to offer suggestions, except to point out this very fact that each mind needs to be met just where it is--with its own mental images, vocabulary, habit of thought and attention, all calling for consideration and adaptation of the subject to their particular case. it depends on the degree of preparation of the teachers to decide whether the form of a lecture is safest, or whether they can risk themselves in the arena of question and answer, the most useful in itself but requiring a far more complete training in preparation. if it can be obtained that the pupils state their own questions and difficulties in writing, a great deal will have been gained, for a good statement of a question is half-way to the right solution. if, after hearing a lecture or oral lesson, they can answer in writing borne simple questions carefully stated, it will be a further advance. it is something to grasp accurately the scope of a question. the plague of girls' answers is usually irrelevancy from want of thought as to the scope of questions or even from inattention to their wording. if they can be patient in face of unanswered difficulties, and wait for the solution to come later on in its natural course, then at least one small fruit of their studies will have been brought to maturity; and if at the end of their elementary course they are convinced of their own ignorance, and want to know more, it may be said that the course has not been unsuccessful. it is not, however, complete unless they know something of the history of philosophy, the great schools, and the names which have been held in honour from the beginning down to our own days. they will realize that it is good to have been born in their own time, and to learn such lessons now that the revival of scholastic philosophy under leo xiii and the development of the neo-scholastic teaching have brought fresh life into the philosophy of tradition, which although it appears to put new wine into old bottles, seems able to preserve the wine and the bottles together. chapter v. the realities of life. "he fixed thee mid this dance of plastic circumstance, this present, thou, forsooth, wouldst fain arrest: machinery just meant to give thy soul its bent, try thee and turn thee forth, sufficiently impressed." browning, "rabbi ben ezra." "eh, dieu! nous marchons trop en enfants--cela me fache!" st. jane frances de chantal. one of the problems which beset school education, and especially education in boarding schools, is the difficulty of combining the good things it can give with the best preparation for after life. this preparation has to be made under circumstances which necessarily keep children away from many of the realities that have to be faced in the future. to be a small member of a large organization has an excellent effect upon the mind. from the presence of numbers a certain dignity gathers round many things that would in themselves be insignificant. ideas of corporate life with its obligations and responsibilities are gained. honoured traditions and ideals are handed down if the school has a history and spirit of its own. there are impressive and solemn moments in the life of a large school which remain in the memory as something beautiful and great. the close of a year, with its retrospect and anticipation, its restrained emotion from the pathos which attends all endings and beginnings in life, fills even the younger children with some transient realization of the meaning of it all, and lifts them up to a dim sense of the significance of existence, while for the elder ones such days leave engraven upon the mind thoughts which can never be effaced. these deep impressions belong especially to old-established schools, and are bound up with their past, with their traditional tone, and the aims that are specially theirs. in this they cannot be rivalled. the school-room at home is always the school-room, it has no higher moods, no sentiment of its own. there are diversities of gifts for school and for home education; for impressiveness a large school has the advantage. it is also, in general, better off in the quality of its teachers, and it can turn their rifts to better account. a modern governess would require to be a host in herself to supply the varied demands of a girl's education, in the subjects to be taught, in companionship and personal influence, in the training of character, in watching over physical development, and even if she should possess in herself all that would be needed, there is the risk of "incompatibility of temperament" which makes a _tete-a-tete_ life in the school-room trying on both sides. school has the advantage of bringing the influence of many minds to bear, so that it is rare that a child should pass through a school course without coming in contact with some who awaken and understand and influence her for good. it offers too the chance of making friends, and though "sets" and cliques, plagues of school life, may give trouble and unsettle the weaker minds from time to time, yet if the current of the school is healthy it will set against them, and on the other hand the choicest and best friendships often begin and grow to maturity in the common life of school. the sodalities and congregations in catholic schools are training grounds within the general system of training, in which higher ideals are aimed at, the obligation of using influence for good is pressed home, and the instincts of leadership turned to account for the common good. lastly, among the advantages of school may be counted a general purpose and plan in the curriculum, and better appliances for methodical teaching than are usually available in private school-rooms, and where out-door games are in honour they add a great zest to school life. but, as in all human things, there are drawbacks to school education, and because it is in the power of those who direct its organization to counteract some of these drawbacks, it is worth while to examine them and consider the possible remedies. in the first place it will probably be agreed that boarding-school life is not desirable for very young children, as their well-being requires more elasticity in rule and occupations than is possible if they are together in numbers. little children, out of control and excited, are a misery to themselves and to each other, and if they are kept in hand enough to protect the weaker ones from the exuberant energy of the stronger, then the strictness chafes them all, and spontaneity is too much checked. the informal play which is possible at home, with the opportunities for quiet and even solitude, are much better for young children than the atmosphere of school, though a day-school, with the hours of home life in between, is sometimes successfully adapted to their wants. but the special cases which justify parents in sending young children to boarding schools are numerous, now that established home life is growing more rare, and they have to be counted with in any large school. it can only be said that the yoke ought to be made as light as possible--short lessons, long sleep, very short intervals of real application of mind, as much open air as possible, bright rooms, and a mental atmosphere that tends to calm rather than to excite them. they should be saved from the petting of the elder girls, in whom this apparent kindness is often a selfish pleasure, bad on both sides. for older children the difficulties are not quite the same, and instead of forcing them on too fast, school life may even keep them back. when children are assembled together in considerable numbers the intellectual level is that of the middle class of mind and does not favour the best, the outlook and conversation are those of the average, the language and vocabulary are on the same level, with a tendency to sink rather than to rise, and though emulation may urge on the leading spirits and keep them at racing speed, this does not quicken the interest in knowledge for its own sake, and the work is apt to slacken when the stimulus is withdrawn. and all the time there is comfort to the easy-going average in the consciousness of how many there are behind them. the necessity for organization and foresight in detail among large numbers is also unfavourable to individual development. for children to find everything prepared for them, to feel no friction in the working of the machinery, so that all happens as it ought to, without effort and personal trouble on their part, to be told what to do, and only have to follow the bells for the ordering of their time--all this tends to diminish their resourcefulness and their patience with the unforeseen checks and cross-purposes and mistakes that they will have to put up with on leaving school. as a matter of fact the more perfect the school machinery, the smoother its working, the less does it prepare for the rutty road afterwards, and in this there is some consolation when school machinery jars from time to time in the working; if it teaches patience it is not altogether regrettable, and the little trouble which may arise in the material order is perhaps more educating than the regularity which has been disturbed. we are beginning to believe what has never ceased to be said, that lessons in lesson-books are not the whole of education. the whole system of teaching in the elementary schools has been thrown off its balance by too many lesson-books, but it is righting itself again, and some of the memoranda on teaching, issued by the board of education within the last few years, are quite admirable in their practical suggestions for promoting a more efficient preparation for life. the board now insists on the teaching of handicrafts, training of the senses in observation, development of knowledge, taste, and skill in various departments which are useful for life, and for girls especially on things which make the home. the same thing is wanted in middle-class education, though parents of the middle-class still look a little askance at household employments for their daughters. but children of the wealthier and upper classes take to them as a birthright, with the cordial assent of their parents and the applause of the doctors. it is for these children, so well-disposed for a practical education, and able to carry its influence so far, that we may consider what can be done in school life. we ourselves who have to do with children must first appreciate the realities of life before we can communicate this understanding to others or give the right spirit to those we teach. and "the realities of life" may stand as a name for all those things which have to be learned in order to live, and which lesson-books do not teach. the realities of life are not material things, but they are very deeply wrought in with material things. there are things to be done, and things to be made, and things to be ordered and controlled, belonging to the primitive wants of human life, and to all those fundamental cares which have to support it. they are best learned in the actual doing from those who know how to do them; for although manuals and treatises exist for every possible department of skill and activity, yet the human voice and hand go much further in making knowledge acceptable than the textbook with diagrams. the dignity of manual labour comes home from seeing it well done, it is shown to be worth doing and deserving of honour. something which cannot be shown to children, but it will come to them later on as an inheritance, is the effect of manual work upon their whole being. manual work gives balance and harmony in the development of the growing creature. a child does not attain its full power unless every faculty is exercised in turn, and to think that hard mental work alternated with hard physical exercise will give it full and wholesome development is to ignore whole provinces of its possessions. generally speaking, children have to take the value of their mental work on the faith of our word. they must go through a great deal in mastering the rudiments of, say, latin grammar (for the honey is not yet spread so thickly over this as it is now over the elements of modern languages). they must wonder why "grown-ups" have such an infatuation for things that seem out of place and inappropriate in life as they consider it worth living. probably it is on this account that so many artificial rewards and inducements have had to be brought in to sustain their efforts. physical exercise is a joy to healthy children, but it leaves nothing behind as a result. children are proud of what they have done and made themselves. they lean upon the concrete, and to see as the result of their efforts something which lasts, especially something useful, as a witness to their power and skill, this is a reward in itself and needs no artificial stimulus, though to measure their own work in comparative excellence with that of others adds an element that quickens the desire to do well. children will go quietly back again and again to look, without saying anything, at something they have made with their own hands, their eyes telling all that it means to them, beyond what they can express. with its power of ministering to harmonious development of the faculties manual work has a direct influence on fitness for home and social life. it greatly develops good sense and aptitude for dealing with ordinary difficulties as they arise. in common emergencies it is the "handy" member of the household whose judgment and help are called upon, not the brilliant person or one who has specialized in any branch, but the one who can do common things and can invent resources when experience fails. when the specialist is at fault and the artist waits for inspiration, the handy person conies in and saves the situation, unprofessionally, like the bone-setter, without much credit, but to the great comfort of every one concerned. manual work likewise saves from eccentricity or helps to correct it. eccentricity may appear harmless and even interesting, but in practice it is found to be a drawback, enfeebling some sides of a character, throwing the judgment at least on some points out of focus. in children it ought to be recognized as a defect to be counteracted. when people have an overmastering genius which of itself marks out for them a special way of excellence, some degree of eccentricity is easily pardoned, and almost allowable. but eccentricity unaccompanied by genius is mere uncorrected selfishness, or want of mental balance. it is selfishness if it could be corrected and is not, because it makes exactions from others without return. it will not adapt itself to them but insists on being taken as it is, whether acceptable or not. at best, eccentricity is a morbid tendency liable to run into extremes when its habits are undisturbed. an excuse sometimes made for eccentricity is that it is a security against any further mental aberration, perhaps on the same principle that inoculation producing a mild form of diseases is sometimes a safeguard against their attacks. but if the mind and habits of life can be brought under control, so as to take part in ordinary affairs without attracting attention or having exemptions and allowance made for them, a result of a far higher order will have been attained. to recognize eccentricity as selfishness is a first step to its cure, and to make oneself serviceable to others is the simplest corrective. whatever else they may be, "eccentrics" are not generally serviceable. children of vivid imagination, nervously excitable and fragile in constitution, rather easily fall into little eccentric ways which grow very rapidly and are hard to overcome. one of the commonest of these is talking to themselves. sitting still, making efforts to apply their minds to lessons for more than a short time, accentuates the tendency by nerve fatigue. in reaction against fatigue the mind falls into a vacant state and that is the best condition for the growth of eccentricities and other mental troubles. if their attention is diverted from themselves, and yet fixed with the less exhausting concentration which belongs to manual work, this diversion into another channel, with its accompany bodily movement, will restore the normal balance, and the little eccentric pose will be forgotten; this is better than being noticed and laughed at and formally corrected. manual employments, especially if varied, and household occupations afford a great variety, give to children a sense of power in knowing what to do in a number of circumstances; they take pleasure in this, for it is a thing which they admire in others. domestic occupations also form in them a habit of decision, from the necessity of getting through things which will not wait. for domestic duties do not allow of waiting for a moment of inspiration or delaying until a mood of depression or indifference has passed. they have a quiet, imperious way of commanding, and an automatic system of punishing when they are neglected, which are more convincing that exhortations. perhaps in this particular point lies their saving influence against nerves and moodiness and the demoralization of "giving way." those who have no obligations, whose work will wait for their convenience, and who can if they please let everything go for a time, are more easily broken down by trouble than those whose household duties still have to be done, in the midst of sorrow and trial. there is something in homely material duties which heals and calms the mind and gives it power to come back to itself. and in sudden calamities those who know how to make use of their hands do not helplessly wring them, or make trouble worse by clinging to others for support. again, circumstances sometimes arise in school life which make light household duties an untold boon for particular children. accidental causes, troubles of eyesight, or too rapid growth, etc., may make regular study for a time impossible to them. these children become _exempt_ persons, and even if they are able to take some part in the class work the time of preparation is heavy on their hands. exempt persons easily develop undesirable qualities, and their apparent privileges are liable to unsettle others. as a matter of fact those who are able to keep the common life have the best of it, but they are apt to look upon the exemption of others as enviable, as they long for gipsy life when a caravan passes by. with the resource of household employment to give occupation it becomes apparent that exemption does not mean holiday, but the substitution of one duty or lesson for another, and this is a principle which holds good in after life--that except in case of real illness no one is justified in having nothing to do. lastly, the work of the body is good for the soul, it drives out silliness as effectually as the rod, since that which was of old considered as the instrument for exterminating the "folly bound up in the heart of a child," has been laid aside in the education of girls. it is a great weapon against the seven devils of whom one is sloth and another pride, and it prepares a sane mind in a sound body for the discipline of after life. experience bears its own testimony to the failure of an education which is out of touch with the material requirements of life. it leaves an incomplete power of expression, and some dead points in the mind from which no response can be awakened. to taste of many experiences seems to be necessary for complete development. when on the material side all is provided without forethought, and people are exempt from all care and obligation, a whole side of development is wanting, and on that side the mind remains childish, inexperienced, and unreal. the best mental development is accomplished under the stress of many demands. one claim balances the other; a touch of hardness and privation gives strength of mind and makes self-denial a reality; a little anxiety teaches foresight and draws out resourcefulness, and the tendency to fret about trifles is corrected by the contact of the realities of life. to come to practice--what can be done for girls during their years at school? in the first place the teaching of the fundamental handicraft of women, needlework, deserves a place of honour. in many schools it has almost perished by neglect, or the thorns of the examination programme have grown up and choked it. this misfortune has been fairly common where the english "university locals" and the irish "intermediate" held sway. there literally was not time for it, and the loss became so general that it was taken as a matter of course, scarcely regretted; to the children themselves, so easily carried off by _vogue_, it became almost a matter for self-complacency, "not to be able to hold a needle" was accepted as an indication of something superior in attainments. and it must be owned that there were certain antiquated methods of teaching the art which made it quite excusable to "hate needlework." one "went through so much to learn so little"; and the results depending so often upon help from others to bring them to any conclusion, there was no sense of personal achievement in a work accomplished. others planned, cut out and prepared the work, and the child came in as an unwilling and imperfect sewing machine merely to put in the stitches. the sense of mastery over material was not developed, yet that is the only way in which a child's attainment of skill can be linked on to the future. what cannot be done without help always at hand drops out of life, and likewise that which calls for no application of mind. to reach independence in the practical arts of life is an aim that will awaken interests and keep up efforts, and teachers have only a right to be satisfied when their pupils can do without them. this is not the finishing point of a course of teaching, it is a whole system, beginning in the first steps and continuing progressively to the end. it entails upon teachers much labour, much thought, and the sacrifice of showy results. the first look of finish depends more upon the help of the teacher than upon the efforts of children. their results must be waited for, and they will in the early years have a humbler, more rough-hewn look than those in which expert help has been given. but the educational advantages are not to be compared. a four years' course, two hours per week, gives a thorough grounding in plain needlework, and girls are then capable of beginning dressmaking, in they can reach a very reasonable proficiency when they leave school. whether they turn this to practical account in their own homes, or make use of it in clothing societies and needlework guilds for the poor, the knowledge is of real value. if fortune deals hardly with them, and they are thrown on their own resources later in life, it is evident that to make their own clothes is a form of independence for which they will be very thankful. another branch of needlework that ought to form part of every catholic girl's education is that of work for the church in which there is room for every capacity, from the hemming of the humblest _lavabo_ towel to priceless works of art embroidered by queens for the popes and bishops of their time. "first aid," and a few practical principles of nursing, can sometimes be profitably taught in school, if time is made for a few lessons, perhaps during one term. the difficulty of finding time even adds to the educational value, since the conditions of life outside do not admit of uniform intervals between two bells. enough can be taught to make girls able to take their share helpfully in cases of illness in their homes, and it is a branch of usefulness in which a few sensible notions go a long way. general self-help is difficult to define or describe, but it can be taught at school more than would appear at first sight, if only those engaged in the education of children will bear in mind that the triumph of their devotedness is to enable children to do without them. this is much more laborious than to do things efficiently and admirably for them, but it is real education. they can be taught as mothers would teach them at home, to mend and keep their things in order, to prepare for journeys, pack their own boxes, be responsible for their labels and keys, write orders to shops, to make their own beds, dust their private rooms, and many other things which will readily occur to those who have seen the pitiful sight of girls unable to do them. finally, simple and elementary cooking comes well within the scope of the education of elder girls at school. but it must be taught seriously to make it worth while, and as in the teaching of needlework, the foundations must be plain. to begin by fancy-work in one case and bonbons in the other turns the whole instruction into a farce. in this subject especially, the satisfaction of producing good work, well done, without help, is a result which justifies all the trouble that may be spent upon it. when girls have, by themselves, brought to a happy conclusion the preparation of a complete meal, their very faces bear witness to the educational value of the success. they are not elated nor excited, but wear the look of quiet contentment which seems to come from contact with primitive things. this look alone on a girl's face gives a beauty of its own, something becoming, and fitting, and full of promise. no expression is equal to it in the truest charm, for quiet contentment is the atmosphere which in the future, whatever may be her lot, ought to be diffused by her presence, an atmosphere of security and rest. perhaps at first sight it seems an exaggeration to link so closely together the highest natural graces of a woman with those lowliest occupations, but let the effects be compared by those who have examined other systems of instruction. if they have considered the outcome of an exclusively intellectual education for girls, especially one loaded with subjects in sections to be "got up" for purposes of examination, and compared it with one into which the practical has largely entered, they can hardly fail to agree that the latter is the best preparation for life, not only physically and morally but mentally. during the stress of examinations lined foreheads, tired eyes, shallow breathing, angular movements tell their own story of strain, and when it is over a want of resourcefulness in finding occupation shows that a whole side has remained undeveloped. the possibility of turning to some household employments would give rest without idleness; it would save from two excesses in a time of reaction, from the exceeding weariness of having nothing to do, the real misery of an idle life, and on the other hand from craving for excitement and constant change through fear of this unoccupied vacancy. one other point is worth consideration. the "servant question" is one which looms larger and larger as a household difficulty. there are stories of great and even royal households being left in critical moments at the mercy of servants' tempers, of head cooks "on strike" or negligent personal attendants. and from these down to the humblest employers of a general servant the complaint is the same--servants so independent, so exacting, good servants not to be had, so difficult to get things properly done, etc. these complaints give very strong warning that helpless dependence on servants is too great a risk to be accepted, and that every one in ordinary stations of life should be at least able to be independent of personal service. the expansion of colonial life points in the same direction. the "simple life" is talked of at home, but it is really lived in the colonies. those who brace themselves to its hardness find a vigour and resourcefulness within them which they had never suspected, and the pride of personal achievement in making a home brings out possibilities which in softer circumstances might have remained for ever dormant, with their treasure of happiness and hardy virtues. it is possible, no doubt, in that severe and plain life to lose many things which are not replaced by its self-reliance and hardihood. it is possible to drop into merely material preoccupation in the struggle for existence. but it is also possible not to do so, and the difference lies in having an ideal. to catholics even work in the wilderness and life in the backwoods are not dissociated from the most spiritual ideals. the pioneers of the church, st. benedict's monks, have gone before in the very same labour of civilization when europe was to a great extent still in backwoods. and, when they sanctified their days in prayer and hard labour, poetry did not forsake them, and learning even took refuge with them in their solitude to wait for better times. it was religion which attracted both. without their daily service of prayer, the _opus dei_, and the assiduous copying of books, and the desire to build worthy churches for the worship of god, arts and learning would not have followed the monks into the wilderness, but their life would have dropped to the dead level of the squatter's existence. in the same way family life, if toilsome, either at home or in a new country, may be inspired by the example of the holy family in nazareth; and in lonely and hard conditions, as well as in the stress of our crowded ways of living, the influence of that ideal reaches down to the foundations and transfigures the very humblest service of the household. these primitive services which are at the foundation of all home life are in themselves the same in all places and times. there is in them something almost sacred; they are sane, wholesome, stable, amid the weary perpetual change of artificial additions which add much to the cares but little to the joys of life. there is a long distance between the labours of benedictine monks and the domestic work possible for school girls, but the principles fundamental to both are the same--happiness in willing work, honour to manual labour, service of god in humble offices. the work of lay-sisters in some religious houses, where they understand the happiness of their lot, links the two extremes together across the centuries. the jubilant onset of their company in some laborious work is like an anthem rising to god, bearing witness to the happiness of labour where it is part of his service. they are the envy of the choir religious, and in the precincts of such religious houses children unconsciously learn the dignity of manual labour, and feel themselves honoured by having any share in it. such labour can be had for love, but not for money. one word must be added before leaving the subject of the realities of life. worn time to time a rather emphatic school lifts up its voice in the name of plain speaking and asks for something beyond reality--for realism, for anticipated instruction on the duties and especially on the dangers of grown-up life. it will be sufficient to suggest three points for consideration in this matter: ( ) that these demands are not made by fathers and mothers, but appear to come from those whose interest in children is indirect and not immediately or personally responsible. this may be supposed from the fact that they find fault with what is omitted, but do not give their personal experience of how the want may be supplied. ( ) those priests who have made a special study of children do not seem to favour the view, or to urge that any change should be made in the direction of plain speaking. ( ) the answer given by a great educational authority, miss dorothea beale, the late principal of cheltenham college, may appeal to those who are struck by the theory if they do not advocate it in practice. when this difficulty was laid before her she was not in favour of departing from the usual course, or insisting on the knowledge of grown-up life before its time, and she pointed out that in case of accidents or surgical operations it was not the doctors nor the nurses actively engaged who turned faint and sick, but those who had nothing to do, and in the same way she thought that such instruction, cut off from the duties and needs of the present, was not likely to be of any real benefit, but rather to be harmful. considering how wide was her experience of educational work this opinion carries great weight. chapter vi. lessons and play. "what think we of thy soul? * * * * "born of full stature, lineal to control; and yet a pigmy's yoke must undergo. yet must keep pace and tarry, patient, kind, with its unwilling scholar, the dull, tardy mind; must be obsequious to the body's powers, whose low hands mete its paths, set ope and close its ways, must do obeisance to the days, and wait the little pleasure of the hours; yea, ripe for kingship, yet must be captive in statuted minority!" "sister songs," by francis thompson. lessons and play used to be as clearly marked off one from the other as land and water on the older maps. now we see some contour maps in which the land below so many feet and the sea within so many fathoms' depth are represented by the same marking, or left blank. in the same way the tendency in education at present is almost to obliterate the line of demarcation, at least for younger children, so that lessons become a particular form of play, "with a purpose," and play becomes a sublimated form of lessons, as the druggists used to say, "an elegant preparation" of something bitter. if the board of education were to name a commission composed of children, and require it to look into the system, it is doubtful whether they would give a completely satisfactory report. they would probably judge it to be too uniform in tone, poor in colour and contrast, deficient in sparkle. they like the exhilaration of bright colour, and the crispness of contrast. of course they would judge it from the standpoint of play, not of lessons. but play which is not quite play, coming after something which has been not quite lessons, loses the tingling delight of contrast. the funereal tolling of a bell for real lessons made a dark background against which the rapture of release for real play shone out with a brilliancy which more than made up for it. at home, the system of ten minutes' lessons at short intervals seems to answer well for young children; it exerts just enough pressure to give rebound in the intervals of play. of course this is not possible at school. but the illusion that lessons are play cannot be indefinitely kept up, or if the illusion remains it is fraught with trouble. duty and endurance, the power to go through drudgery, the strength of mind to persist in taking trouble, even where no interest is felt, the satisfaction of holding on to the end in doing something arduous, these things must be learned at some time during the years of education. if they are not learned then, in all probability they will never be acquired at all; examples to prove the contrary are rare. the question is how--and when. if pressed too soon with obligations of lessons, especially with prolonged attention, little anxious faces and round shoulders protest. if too long delayed the discovery comes as a shock, and the less energetic fall out at once and declare that they "can't learn"--"never could." perhaps in one way the elementary schools with their large classes have a certain advantage in this, because the pressure is more self-adjusting than in higher class education, where the smaller numbers give to each child a greater share in the general work, for better or for worse. in home education this share becomes even greater when sometimes one child alone enjoys or endures the undivided attention of the governess. in that case the pressure does not relax. but out of large classes of infants in elementary schools it is easy to see on many vacant restful faces that after a short exertion in "qualifying to their teacher" they are taking their well-earned rest. they do not allow themselves to be strung up to the highest pitch of attention all through the lesson, but take and leave as they will or as they can, and so they are carried through a fairly long period of lessons without distress. as they grow older and more independent in their work the same cause operates in a different way. they can go on by themselves and to a certain extent they must do so, as o n account of the numbers teachers can give less time and less individual help to each, and the habit of self-reliance is gradually acquired, with a certain amount of drudgery, leading to results proportionate to the teacher's personal power of stimulating work. the old race of scottish schoolmaster in the rural schools produced--perhaps still produces--good types of such self-reliant scholars, urged on by his personal enthusiasm for knowledge. having no assistant, his own personality was the soul of the school, both boys and girls responding in a spirit which was worthy of it. but the boys had the best of it; "lassies" were not deemed worthy to touch the classics, and the classics were everything to him. in america it is reported that the best specimens of university students often come from remote schools in which no external advantages have been available; but the tough unyielding habit of study has been developed in grappling with difficulties without much support from a teacher. with those who are more gently brought up the problem is how to obtain this habit of independent work, that is practically--how to get the will to act. there is drudgery to be gone through, however it may be disguised, and as a permanent acquisition the power of going through it is one of the most lasting educational results that can be looked for. drudgery is labour with toil and fatigue. it is the long penitential exercise of the whole human race, not limited to one class or occupation, but accompanying every work of man from the lowest mechanical factory hand or domestic "drudge" up to the sovereign pontiff, who has to spend so many hours in merely receiving, encouraging, blessing, and dismissing the unending processions of his people as they pass before him, imparting to them graces of which he can never see the fruit, and then returning to longer hours of listening to complaints and hearing of troubles which often admit of no remedy: truly a life of labour with toil and fatigue, in comparison with which most lives are easy, though each has to bear in its measure the same stamp. pius x has borne the yoke of labour from his youth. his predecessor took it up with an enthusiasm that burned within him, and accepted training in a service where the drudgery is as severe though generally kept out of sight. the acceptance of it is the great matter, whatever may be the form it takes. spurs and bait, punishment and reward, have been used from time immemorial to set the will in motion, and the results have been variable--no one has appeared to be thoroughly satisfied with either, or even with a combination of the two. some authorities have stood on an eminence, and said that neither punishment nor reward should be used, that knowledge should be loved for its own sake. but if it was not loved, after many invitations, the problem remained. as usual the real solution seems to be attainable only by one who really loves both knowledge and children, or one who loves knowledge and can love children, as vittorino da feltre loved them both, and also blessed thomas more. these two affections mingled together produce great educators--great in the proportion in which the two are possessed--as either one or the other declines the educational power diminishes, till it dwindles down to offer trained substitutes and presentable mediocrities for living teachers. the fundamental principle reasserts itself, that "love feels no labour, or if it does it loves the labour." here is one of our catholic secrets of strength. we have received so much, we have so much to give, we know so well what we want to obtain. we have the church, the great teacher of the world, as our prototype, and by some instinct a certain unconscious imitation of her finds its way into the mind and heart of catholic teachers, so that, though often out of poorer material, we can produce teachers who excel in personal hold over children, and influence for good by their great affection and the value which they set on souls. their power of obtaining work is proportioned to their own love of knowledge, and here--let it be owned--we more often fail. various theories are offered in explanation of this; people take one or other according to their personal point of view. some say we feel so sure of the other world that our hold on this is slack. some that in these countries we have not yet made up for the check of three centuries when education was made almost impossible for us. and others say it is not true at all. perhaps they know best. next to the personal power of the teacher to influence children in learning lessons comes an essential condition to make it possible, and that is a simple life with quiet regular hours and unexciting pleasures. amid a round of amusements lessons must go to the wall, no child can stand the demands of both at a time. all that can be asked of them is that they should live through the excitement without too much weariness or serious damage. the place to consider this is in london at the children's hour for riding in the park, contrasting the prime condition of the ponies with the "illustrious pallor" of so many of their riders. they have courage enough left to sit up straight in their saddles, but it would take a heart of stone to think of lesson books. this extreme of artificial life is of course the portion of the few. those few, however, are very important people, influential in the future for good or evil, but a protest from a distance would not reach their schoolrooms, any more than legislation for the protection of children; they may be protected from work, but not from amusement. the conditions of simple living which are favourable for children have been so often enumerated that it is unnecessary to go over them again; they may even be procured in tabular form or graphical representation for those to whom these figures and curves carry conviction. but a point that is of more practical interest to children and teachers, struggling together in the business of education, and one that is often overlooked, is that children do not know how to learn lessons when the books are before them, and that there is a great waste of good power, and a great deal of unnecessary weariness from this cause. if the cause of imperfectly learned lessons is examined it will usually be found there, and also the cause of so much dislike to the work of preparation. children do not know by instinct how to set about learning a lesson from a book, nor do they spontaneously recognize that there are different ways of learning, adapted to different lessons. it is a help to them to know that there is one way for the multiplication table and another for history and another for poetry, as the end of the lesson is different. they can understand this if it is put before them that one is learnt most quickly by mere repetition, until it becomes a sing-song in the memory that cannot go wrong, and that afterwards in practice it will allow itself to be taken to pieces; they will see that they can grasp a chapter of history more intelligently if they prepare for themselves questions upon it which might be asked of another, than in trying by mechanical devices of memory to associate facts with something to hold them by; that poetry is different from both, having a body and a soul, each of which has to be taken account of in learning it, one of them being the song and the other the singer. obviously there is not one only way for each of these or for other matters which have to be learnt, but one of the greatest difficulties is removed when it is understood that there is something intelligible to be done in the learning of lessons beyond reading them over and over with the hope that they will go in. the hearing of lessons is a subject that deserves a great deal of consideration. it is an old formal name for what has been often an antiquated mechanical exercise. a great deal more trouble is expended now on the manner of questioning and "hearing" the lessons; but even yet it may be done too formally, as a mere function, or in a way that kills the interest, or in a manner that alarms--with a mysterious face as if setting traps, or with questions that are easy and obvious to ask, but for children almost impossible to answer. children do not usually give direct answers to simple questions. experience seems to have taught them that appearances are deceptive in this matter, and they look about for the spring by which the trap works before they will touch the bait. it is a pity to set traps, because it destroys confidence, and children's confidence in such matters as lessons is hard to win. the question of aids to study by stimulants is a difficult one. on the one hand it seems to some educators a fundamental law that reward should follow right-doing and effort, and so no doubt it is; but the reward within one's own mind and soul is one thing and the calf-bound book is another--scarcely even a symbol of the first, because they are not always obtained by the same students. this is a fruitful subject for discourse or reflection at distributions of prizes. those who are behind the scenes know that the race is not to the swift nor the battle to the strong, and the children know it themselves, and prize-winners often become the object of the "word in season," pointing out how rarely they will be found to distinguish themselves in after life; while the steady advance of the plodding and slow mind is dwelt upon, and those who have failed through idleness drink up the encouragement which was not intended for them, and feel that they are the hope of the future because they have won no prizes. it is difficult on those occasions to make the conflicting conclusions clear to everybody. yet the system of prize distributions is time honoured and traditional, and every country is not yet so disinterested in study as to be able to do without it; under its sway a great deal of honest effort is put out, and the taste of success which is the great stimulant of youth is first experienced. there is also the system of certificates, which has the advantage of being open to many instead of to one. it is likewise a less material testimonial, approaching more nearly to the merited word of approval which is in itself the highest human reward, and the one nearest to the heart of things, because it is the one which belongs to home. for if the home authorities interest themselves in lessons at all, their grown-up standard and the paramount weight of their opinion gives to one word of their praise a dignity and worth which goes beyond all prizes. beyond this there is no natural satisfaction to equal the inner consciousness of having done one's best, a very intimate prize distribution in which we ourselves make the discourse, and deliver the certificate to ourselves. this is the culminating point at which educators aim; they are all agreed that prizes in the end are meant to lead up to it, but the way is long between them. and both one and the other are good in so far as they lead us on to the highest judgment that is day by day passed on our work. when prizes, and even the honour of well-deserved praise, fail to attract, the thought of god the witness of our efforts, and of the value in his sight of striving which is never destined to meet with success, is a support that keeps up endurance, and seals with an evident mark of privilege the lives of many who have made those dutiful efforts not for themselves but in the sight of god. the subject of play has to be considered from two points of view, that of the children and ours. theirs is concerned chiefly with the present and ours with the future, far although we do not want every play-hour to be haunted with a spectral presence that speaks of improvement and advancement, yet we cannot lose sight of the fact that every hour of play is telling on the future, deepening the mark of the character, strengthening the habits, and guiding the lines of after life into this or that channel. looking at it from this point of view of the future, there seems to be something radically wrong at present with the play provided for children of nursery age. in a very few years we shall surely look back and wonder how we could have endured, for the children, the perverse reign of the golliwog dynasty and the despotism of teddy-bears. more than that, it is pitiful to hear of nurseries for catholic children sometimes without shrine or altar or picture of the mother of god, and with one of these monsters on every chair. something even deeper than the artistic sense must revolt before long against this barbarous rule. the teddy-bear, if he has anything to impart, suggests his own methods of life and defence, and the golliwog, far worse--limp, hideous, without one characteristic grace, or spark of humour--suggests the last extremity of what is embodied in the expression "letting oneself go." and these things are loved! pity the beautiful soul of the child, made for beautiful things. _ii y a toujours en nous quelque chose qui veut ramper_, said pere de ravignan, and to this the golliwog makes strong appeal. it is only too easy to _let go_, and the golliwog playfellow says that it is quite right to do so--he does it himself. it takes a great deal to make him able to sit up at all--only in the most comfortable chair can it be accomplished--if the least obstacle is encountered he can only give way. and yet this pitiable being makes no appeal to the spirit of helpfulness. do what you can for him it is impossible to raise him up, the only thing is to go down with him to his own level and stay there. the golliwog is at heart a pessimist. in contrast with this the presence of an altar or nursery shrine, though not a plaything, gives a different tone to play--a tone of joy and heavenliness that go down into the soul and take root there to grow into something lasting and beautiful. there are flowers to be brought, and lights, and small processions, and evening recollection with quietness of devotion, with security in the sense of heavenly protection, with the realization of the "great cloud of witnesses" who are around to make play safe and holy, and there is through it all the gracious call to things higher, to be strong, to be unselfish, to be self-controlled, to be worthy of these protectors and friends in heaven. there is another side also to the question of nursery play, and that is what may be called the play-values of the things provided. mechanical toys are wonderful, but beyond an artificial interest which comes mostly from the elders, there is very little lasting delight in them for children. they belong to the system of over-indulgence and over-stimulation which measures the value of things by their price. their worst fault is that they do all there is to be done, while the child looks on and has nothing to do. the train or motor rushes round and round, the doll struts about and bleats "papa," "mama," the teddy-bear growls and dances, and the owner has but to wind them up, which is very poor amusement. probably they are better after they have been over-wound and the mechanical part has given way, and they have come to the hard use that belongs to their proper position as playthings. if a distinction may be drawn between toys and playthings, toys are of very little play-value, they stand for fancy play, to be fiddled with; while playthings stand as symbols of real life, the harder and more primitive side of life taking the highest rank, and all that they do is really done by the child. this is the real play-value. even things that are not playthings at all, sticks and stones and shells, have this possibility in them. things which have been found have a history of their own, which gives them precedence over what comes from a shop; but the highest value of all belongs to the things which children have made entirely themselves--bows and arrows, catapults, clay marbles, though imperfectly round, home-made boats and kites. the play-value grows in direct proportion to the amount of personal share which children have in the making and in the use of their playthings. and in this we ought cordially to agree with them. after the nursery age, in the school or school-room, play divides into two lines--organized games, of which we hear a great deal in school at present, and home play. they are not at all the same thing. both have something in their favour. so much has been written of late about the value of organized games, how they bring out unselfishness, prompt and unquestioning obedience, playing for one's side and not for oneself, etc., that it seems as if all has been said better than it could be said again, except perhaps to point out that there is little relaxation in the battle of life for children who do their best at books indoors and at games out of doors--so that in self-defence a good many choose an "elective course" between the two lines of advantages that school offers, and do not attempt to serve two masters; they will do well at books or games, but not at both. if the interest in games is keen, they require a great deal of will-energy, as well as physical activity, a great deal of self-control and subordination of personal interest to the good of the whole. in return for these requirements they give a great deal, this or that, more or less, according to the character of the game; they give physical control of movement, quickness of eye and hand, promptitude in decision, observance of right moments, command of temper, and many other things. in fact, for some games the only adverse criticism to offer is that they are more of a discipline than real play, and that certainly for younger children who have no other form of recreation than play, something more restful to the mind and less definite in purpose is desirable. for these during playtime some semblance of solitude is exceedingly desirable at school where the great want is to be sometimes alone. it is good for them not to be always under the pressure of competition--going along a made road to a definite end--but to have their little moments of even comparative solitude, little times of silence and complete freedom, if they cannot be by themselves. hoops and skipping-ropes without races or counted competitions will give this, with the possibility of a moment or two to do nothing but live and breathe and rejoice in air and sunshine. without these moments of rest the conditions of life at present and the constitutions for which the new word "nervy" has had to be invented, will give us tempers and temperaments incapable of repose and solitude. a child alone in a swing, kicking itself backwards and forwards, is at rest; alone in its little garden it has complete rest of mind with the joy of seeing its own plants grow; alone in a field picking wild flowers it is as near to the heart of primitive existence as it is possible to be. although these joys of solitude are only attainable in their perfection by children at home, yet if their value is understood, those who have charge of them at school can do something to give them breathing spaces free from the pressure of corporate life, and will probably find them much calmer and more manageable than if they have nothing but organized play. there are plenty of indoor occupations too for little girls which may give the same taste of solitude and silence, approaching to those simpler forms of home play which have no definite aim, no beginning and ending, no rules. the fighting instinct is very near the surface in ambitious and energetic children, and in the play-grounds it asserts itself all the more in reaction after indoor discipline, then excitement grows, and the weaker suffer, and the stronger are exasperated by friction. if unselfish, they feel the effort to control themselves; if selfish, they exhaust themselves and others in the battle to impose their own will. in these moods solitude and silence, with a hoop or skipping-rope, are a saving system, and restore calmness of mind. all that is wanted is freedom, fresh air, and spontaneous movement. this is more evident in the case of younger children, but if it can be obtained for elder girls it is just as great a relief. they have usually acquired more self-control, and the need does not assert itself so loudly, but it is perhaps all the greater; and in whatever way it can best be ministered to, it will repay attention and the provision that may be made for it. one word may be merely suggested for consideration concerning games in girls' schools, and that is the comparative value of them as to physical development. the influence of the game in vogue in each country will always be felt, but it is worth attention that some games, as hockey, conduce to all the attitudes and movements which are least to be desired, and that others, as basket-ball, on the contrary tend--if played with strict regard to rules--to attitudes which are in themselves beautiful and tending to grace of movement. this word belongs to our side of the question, not that of the children. it belongs to our side also to see that hoops are large, and driven with a stick, not a hook, for the sake of straight backs, which are so easily bent crooked in driving a small hoop with a hook. in connexion with movement comes the question of dancing. dancing comes, officially, under the heading of lessons, most earnest lessons if the professor has profound convictions of its significance. but dancing belongs afterwards to the playtime of life. we have outlived the grim puritanical prejudice which condemned it as wrong, and it is generally agreed that there is almost a natural need for dancing as the expression of something very deep in human nature, which seems to be demonstrated by its appearance in one form or another, amongst all races of mankind. there is something in co-ordinated rhythmical movement, in the grace of steps, in the buoyancy of beautiful dancing which seems to make it a very perfect exercise for children and young people. but there are dances and dances, steps and steps, and about the really beautiful there is always a touch of the severe, and a hint of the ideal. without these, dancing drops at once to the level of the commonplace and below it. in general, dances which embody some characteristics of a national life have more beauty than cosmopolitan dances, but they are only seen in their perfection when performed by dancers of the race to whom their spirit belongs, or by the class for whom they are intended: which is meant as a suggestion that little girls should not dance the hornpipe. in conclusion, the question of play, and playtime and recreation is absorbing more and more attention in grown-up life. we have heard it said over and over again of late years that we tire a nation at play, and that "the athletic craze" has gone beyond all bounds. many facts are brought forward in support of this criticism from schools, from newspapers, from general surveys of our national life at present. and those who study more closely the catholic body say that we too are sharing in this extreme, and that the catholic body though small in number is more responsible and more deserving of reproof if it falls from its ideals, for it has ideals. it is only catholic girls who concern us here, but our girls among other girls, and catholic women among other women have the privilege as well as the duty of upholding what is highest. we belong by right to the graver side of the human race, for those who know must be in an emergency graver, less reckless on the one hand, less panic-stricken on the other, than those who do not know. we can never be entirely "at play." and if some of us should be for a time carried away by the current, and momentarily completely "at play," it must be in a wave of reaction from the long grinding of endurance under the penal times. cardinal newman's reminiscences of the life and ways of "the roman catholics" in his youth showy the temper of mind against which our present excess of play is a reaction. "a few adherents of the old religion, moving silently and sorrowfully about, as memorials of what had been. 'the roman catholics'--not a sect, not even an interest, as men conceived of it--not a body, however small, representative of the great communion abroad, but a mere handful of individuals, who might be counted, like the pebbles and detritus of the great deluge, and who, forsooth, merely happened to retain a creed which, in its day indeed, was the profession of a church. here a set of poor irishmen, coining and going at harvest time, or a colony of them lodged in a miserable quarter of the vast metropolis. there, perhaps, an elderly person, seen walking in the streets, grave and solitary, and strange, though noble in bearing, and said to be of good family, and 'a roman catholic.' an old-fashioned house of gloomy appearance, closed in with high walls, with an iron gate, and yews, and the report attaching to it that 'roman catholics' lived there; but who they were, or what they did, or what was meant by calling them roman catholics, no one could tell, though it had an unpleasant sound, and told of form and superstition. and then, perhaps, as we went to and fro, looking with a boy's curious eyes through the great city, we might come to-day upon some moravian chapel, or quaker's meeting-house, and to-morrow on a chapel of the 'roman catholics': but nothing was to be gathered from it, except that there were lights burning there, and some boys in white, swinging censers: and what it all meant could only be learned from books, from protestant histories and sermons; but they did not report well of the 'roman catholics,' but, on the contrary, deposed that they had once had power and had abused it. ... such were the catholics in england, found in corners, and alleys, and cellars, and the housetops, or in the recesses of the country; cut off from the populous world around them, and dimly seen, as if through a mist or in twilight, as ghosts flitting to and fro, by the high protestants, the lords of the earth." ("the second spring.") this it is from which we are keeping holiday; but for us it can be only a half holiday, the sifting process is always at work, the opposition of the world to the church only sleeps for a moment, and there are many who tell us that the signs of the times point to new forms of older conflicts likely to recur, and that we may have to go, as they went on the day of waterloo, straight from the dance to the battlefield. chapter vii. mathematics, natural science, and nature study. "the arab told me that the stone (to give it in the language of the dream) was "euclid's elements"; and "this," said he, "is something of more worth"; and at the word stretched forth the shell, so beautiful in shape, in colour so resplendent, with command that i should hold it to my ear. i did so, and heard that instant in an unknown tongue, which yet i understood, articulate sounds, a loud prophetic blast of harmony." wordsworth, "the prelude," bk. v. mathematics, natural science, and nature study may be conveniently grouped together, because in a study of educational aims, in so far as they concern catholic girls, there is not much that is distinctive which practically affects these branches; during the years of school life they stand, more or less, on common ground with others. more advanced studies of natural science open up burning questions, and as to these, it is the last counsel of wisdom for girls leaving school or school-room to remember that they have no right to have any opinion at all. it is well to make them understand that after years of specialized study the really great men of science, in very gentle tones and with careful utterance, give to the world their formed opinions, keeping them ever open to readjustment as the results of fresh observations come in year after year, and new discoveries call for correction and rearrangement of what has been previously taught. it is also well that they should know that by the time the newest theory reaches the school-room and textbook it may be already antiquated and perhaps superseded in the observatory and laboratory, so that in scientific matters the school-room must always be a little "behind the times." and likewise that when scientific teaching has to be brought within the compass of a text-book for young students, it is mere baby talk, as much like the original theory as a toy engine is like an express locomotive. from which they may conclude that it is wiser to be listeners or to ask deferential questions than to have light-hearted opinions of their own on burning questions such as we sometimes hear: "do you believe in evolution?--i do." "no, i don't, i think there is very little evidence for it." and that if they are introduced to a man of science it is better not to ask his opinion about the latest skeleton that has been discovered, or let him see that they are alarmed lest there might be something wrong with our pedigree after all, or with the book of genesis. one would be glad, however, that they should know the names and something of the works and reputation of the catholic men of science, as ampere, pasteur, and wassmann, etc., i who have been or are european authorities in special aches of study, so that they may at least be ready with an answer to the frequent assertion that "catholics have done nothing for science." but in connexion with these three subjects, not as to the teaching of them but as to their place in the education of girls, some points regarding education in general are worth considering:-- . mathematics in the curriculum of girls' schools has been the subject of much debate. cool and colourless as mathematics are in themselves, they have produced in discussion a good deal of heat, being put forward to bear the brunt of the controversy as to whether girls were equal to boys in understanding and capable of following the same course of study, and to enter into competition with them in all departments of learning. even taking into consideration many brilliant achievements and an immense amount of creditable, and even distinguished work, the answer of those who have no personal bias in the matter for the sake of a cause--is generally that they are not. facts would seem to speak for themselves if only on the ground that the strain of equal studies is too great for the weaker physical organization. girls are willing workers, exceedingly intense when their heart is set upon success; but their staying power is not equal to their eagerness, and the demands made upon them sometimes leave a mortgage on their mental and physical estate which cannot be paid off in the course of a whole lifetime. in support of this, reference may be made to the [ appendix to "final report of the commissioners (irish intermediate education)," pt. i, .] report of a commission of dublin physicians on the effects of the intermediate education system in ireland, which has broken down many more girls than boys. apart from the question of over-pressure it is generally recognized--let it be said again, by those who have not a position to defend or a theory to advance in the matter--that the aptitude of girls for mathematical work is generally less than that of boys, and unless one has some particular view or plan at stake in the matter there is no grievance in recognizing this. there is more to be gained in recognizing diversities of gifts than in striving to establish a level of uniformity, and life is richer, not poorer for the setting forth of varied types of excellence. competition destroys cooperation, and in striving to prove ability to reach an equal standard in competition, the wider and more lasting interests which are at stake may be lost sight of, and in the end sacrificed to limited temporary success. the success of girls in the field of mathematics is, in general, temporary and limited, it means much less in their after life than in that of boys. for the few whose calling in life is teaching, mathematics have some after use; for those, still fewer, who take a real interest in them, they keep a place in later life; but for the many into whose life-work they do not enter, beyond the mental discipline which is sometimes evaded, very little remains. the end of school means for them the end of mathematical study, and the complete forgetfulness in which the whole subject is soon buried gives the impression that too much may have been sacrificed to it. from the point of view of practical value it proves of little use, and as mental discipline something of more permanent worth might have taken its place to strengthen the reasoning powers. the mathematical teacher of girls has generally to seek consolation in very rare success for much habitual disappointment. the whole controversy about equality in education involves less bitterness to catholics than to others, for this reason, that we have less difficulty than those of other persuasions in accepting a fundamental difference of ideals for girls and boys. our ideals of family life, of spheres of action which co-operate and complete each other, without interference or competition, our masculine and feminine types of holiness amongst canonized saints, give a calmer outlook upon the questions involved in the discussion. the church puts equality and inequality upon such a different footing that the result is harmony without clash of interests, and if in some countries we are drawn into the arena now, and forced into competition, the very slackness of interest which is sometimes complained of is an indirect testimony to the truth that we know of better things. and as those who know of better things are more injured by following the less good than those who know them not, so our catholic girls seem to be either more indifferent about their work or more damaged by the spirit of competition if they enter into it, than those who consider it from a different plane. . natural science has of late years assumed a title to which it has no claim, and calls itself simply "_science_"--presumably "_for short,_" but to the great confusion of young minds, or rather with the effect of contracting their range of vision within very narrow limits, as if theology and biblical study, and mental and moral, and historical and political science, had no place of mention in the rational order where things are studied in their causes. inquiry was made in several schools where natural science was taught according to the syllabuses of the board of education. the question was asked, "what is science?"--and without exception the answers indicated that science was understood to mean the study of the phenomena of the physical world in their causes. the name "science" used by itself has been the cause of this, and has led to the usual consequences of the assumption of unauthorized titles. things had been working up in england during the last few years towards this misconception in the schools. on the one hand there was the great impetus given to physical research and experimental science in recent years, so that its discoveries absorbed more and more attention, and this filtered down to the school books. on the other hand, especially since the south african war, there had been a great stir in reaction against mere lessons from books, and it was seen that we wanted more personal initiative and thought, and resourcefulness, and self-reliance, and many other qualities which our education had not tended to develop. it was seen that we were unpractical in our instruction, that minds passed under the discipline of school and came out again, still slovenly, unobservant, unscientific in temper, impatient, flippant, inaccurate, tending to guess and to jump at conclusions, to generalize hastily, etc. it was observed that many unskilful hands came out of the schools, clumsy ringers, wanting in neatness, untidy in work, inept in measuring and weighing, incapable of handling things intelligently. there had come an awakening from the dreams of , when we felt so certain that all england was to be made good and happy through books. a remedy was sought in natural science, and the next educational wave which was to roll over us began to rise. it was thought that the temper of the really scientific man, so patient in research, so accurate and conscientious, so slow to dogmatize, so deferential to others, might be fostered by experimental science in the schools, acquiring "knowledge at first hand," making experiments, looking with great respect at balances, weighing and measuring, and giving an account of results. so laboratories were fitted up at great expense, and teachers with university degrees in science were sought after. the height of the tide seemed to be reached in and --to judge by the tone of regulations for the curricula of secondary schools issued by the board of education--for in these years it is most insistent and exacting for girls as well as boys, as to time and scope of the syllabus in this branch. then disillusion seems to have set in and the tide began to ebb. it appeared that the results were small and poor in proportion to expectation and to the outlay on laboratories. the desirable qualities did not seem to develop as had been hoped, the temper of mind fostered was not entirely what had been desired. the conscientious accuracy that was to come of measuring a millimetre and weighing a milligramme was disappointing, and also the fluent readiness to give an account of observations made, the desired accuracy of expression, the caution in drawing inferences. the links between this teaching and after life did not seem to be satisfactorily established. the board of education showed the first signs of a change of outlook by the readjustment in the curriculum giving an alternative syllabus for girls, and the latitude in this direction is widening by degrees. it begins to be whispered that even in some boys' schools the laboratory is only used under compulsion or by exceptional students, and the wave seems likely to go down as rapidly as it rose. probably for girls the strongest argument against experimental science taught in laboratories is that it has so little connexion with after life. as a discipline the remedy did not go deeply enough into the realities of life to reach the mental defects of girls; it was artificial, and they laid it aside as a part of school life when they went home. latitude is now given by the board of education for "an approved course in a combination of the following subjects: needlework, cooking, laundry-work, housekeeping, and household hygiene for girls over fifteen years of age, to be substituted partially or wholly for science and for mathematics other than arithmetic." comparing this with the regulations of five or six years ago when the only alternative for girls was a "biological subject" instead of physics, and elementary hygiene as a substitute for chemistry, it would seem as if the board of education had had reason to be dissatisfied with the "science" teaching for girls, and was determined to seek a more practical system. this practical aspect of things is penetrating into every department, and when it is combined with some study of first principles nothing better can be desired. for instance, in the teaching of geography, of botany, etc., there is a growing inclination to follow the line of reality, the middle course between the book alone and the laboratory alone, so that these subjects gather living interest from their many points of contact with human life, and give more play to the powers of children. as the text-book of geography is more and more superseded by the use of the atlas alone, and the botanical chart by the children's own drawings, and by the beautiful illustrations in books prepared especially for them, the way is opened before them to worlds of beauty and wonder which they may have for their own possession by the use of their eyes and ears and thoughts and reasonings. . but better than all new apparatus and books of delight is the informal study of the world around us which has grown up by the side of organized teaching of natural science. the name of "nature study" is the least attractive point about it; the reality escapes from all conventionalities of instruction, and looks and listens and learns without the rules and boundaries which belong to real lessons. its range is not restricted within formal limits; it is neither botany, nor natural history, nor physics; neither instruction on light nor heat nor sound, but it wanders on a voyage of discovery into all these domains. and in so far as it does this, it appeals very strongly to children. children usually delight in flowers and dislike botany, are fond of animals and rather indifferent to natural history. life is what awakens their interest; they love the living thing as a whole and do not care much for analysis or classification; these interests grow up later. the object of informal nature study is to put children directly in touch with the beautiful and wonderful things which are within their reach. its lesson-book is everywhere, its time is every time, its spirit is wonder and delight. this is for the children. those who teach it have to look beyond, and it is not so easy to teach as it is to learn. it cannot, properly speaking, be learned by teachers out of books, though books can do a great deal. but a long-used quiet habit of observation gives it life and the stored-up sweetness of years--"the old is better." the most charming books on nature study necessarily give a second-hand tone to the teaching. but the point of it all is knowledge at first-hand; yet, for children knowledge at first-hand is so limited that some one to refer to, and some one to guide them is a necessity, some one who will say at the right moment "look" and "listen," and who has looked and listened for years. perhaps the requirement of knowledge at firsthand for children has sometimes been pushed a little too far, with a deadening effect, for the progress of such knowledge is very slow and laborious. how little we should know if we only admitted first-hand knowledge, but the stories of wonder from those who have seen urge us on to see for ourselves; and so we swing backwards and forwards, from the world outside to the books, to find out more, from the books to the world outside to see for ourselves. and a good teacher, who is an evergreen learner, goes backwards and forwards, too, sharing the work and heightening the delight. all the stages come in turn, over and over again, observation, experiment, inquiry from others whether orally or in books, and in this subject books abound more fascinating than fairy tales, and their latest charm is that they are laying aside the pose of a fairy tale and tell the simple truth. the love of nature, awakened early, is a great estate with which to endow a child, but it needs education, that the proprietor of the estate may know how to manage it, and not--with the manners of a _parvenu_--miss either the inner spirit or the outward behaviour belonging to the property. this right manner and spirit of possession is what the informal "nature study" aims at; it is a point of view. now the point of view as to the outside world means a great deal in life. countrymen do not love nature as townsmen love it. their affection is deeper but less emotional, like old friendships, undemonstrative but everlasting. countrymen see without looking, and say very little about it. townsmen in the country look long and say what they have seen, but they miss many things. a farmer stands stolidly among the graces of his frisky lambs and seems to miss their meaning, but this is because the manners cultivated in his calling do not allow the expression of feeling. it is all in his soul somewhere, deeply at home, but impossible to utter. the townsman looks eagerly, expresses a great deal, expresses it well, but misses the spirit from want of a background to his picture. one must know the whole round of the year in the country to catch the spirit of any season and perceive whence it comes and whither it goes. on the other hand, the countryman in town thinks that there is no beauty of the world left for him to see, because the spirit there is a spirit of the hour and not of the season, and natural beauty has to be caught in evanescent appearances--a florist's window full of orchids in place of his woodlands--and his mind is too slow to catch these. this too quick or too slow habit of seeing belongs to minds as well as to callings; and when children are learning to look around them at the world outside, it has to be taken into account. some will see without looking and be satisfied slowly to drink in impressions, and they are really glad to learn to express what they see. others, the quick, so-called "clever" children, look, and judge, and comment, and overshoot the mark many times before they really see. these may learn patience in waiting for their garden seeds, and quietness from watching birds and beasts, and deliberation, to a certain extent, from their constant mistakes. to have the care of plants may teach them a good deal of watchfulness and patience; it is of greater value to a child to have grown one perfect flower than to have pulled many to pieces to examine their structure. and the care of animals may teach a great deal more if it learns to keep the balance between silly idolatry of pets and cruel negligence--the hot and cold extremes of selfishness. little gardens of their own are perhaps the best gifts which can be given to children. to work in them stores up not only health but joy. every flower in their garden stands for so much happiness, and with that happiness an instinct for home life and simple pleasures will strike deep roots. from growing the humblest annual out of a seed-packet to grafting roses there is work for every age, and even in the dead season of the year the interest of a garden never dies. in new countries gardens take new aspects. a literal version of a _garden party_ in the transvaal suggests possibilities of emancipation from the conventionalities which weary the older forms of entertainment with us. its object was not to play in a garden, but to plant one. guests came from afar, each one bringing a contribution of plants. the afternoon was spent in laying out the beds and planting the offerings, in hard, honest, dirty work. and all the guests went home feeling that they had really lived a day that was worth living, for a garden had been made, in the rough, it is true; but even in the rough in such a new country a garden is a great possession. the outcome of these considerations is that the love of nature is a great source of happiness for children, happiness of the best kind in taking possession of a world that seems to be in many ways designed especially for them. it brings their minds to a place where many ways meet; to the confines of science, for they want to know the reasons of things; to the confines of art, for what they can understand they will strive to interpret and express; to the confines of worship, for a child's soul, hushed in wonder, is very near to god. chapter viii. english. "if chaucer, as has been said, is spring, it is a modern, premature spring, followed by an interval of doubtful weather. sidney is the very spring--the later may. and in prose he is the authentic, only spring. it is a prose full of young joy, and young power, and young inexperience, and young melancholy, which is the wilfulness of joy; . . . "sidney's prose is treasureable, not only for its absolute merits, but as the bud from which english prose, that gorgeous and varied flower, has unfolded."--francis thompson, "the prose of poets." the study of one's own language is the very heart of a modern education; to the study of english, therefore, belongs a central place in the education of english-speaking girls. it has two functions: one is to become the instrument by which almost all the other subjects are apprehended; the other, more characteristically its own, is to give that particular tone to the mind which distinguishes it from others. this is a function that is always in process of further development; for the mind of a nation elaborates its language, and the language gives tone to the mind of the new generation. the influences at work upon the english language at present are very complex, and play on it with great force, so that the changes are startling in their rapidity. english is not only the language of a nation or of a race, not even of an empire; and the inflowing elements affirm this. we have kindred beyond the empire, and their speech is more and more impressing ours, forging from the common stock, which they had from us, whole armouries full of expressive words, words with edge and point and keen directness which never miss the mark. some are unquestionably an acquisition, those which come from states where the language is honoured and studied with a carefulness that puts to shame all except our very best. they have kept some gracious and rare expressions, now quaint to our ear, preserved out of elizabethan english in the current speech of to-day. these have a fragrance of the olden time, but we cannot absorb them again into our own spoken language. then they have their incisive modern expressions so perfectly adapted for their end that they are irresistible even to those who cling by tradition to the more stable element in english. these also come from states in which language is conscious of itself and looks carefully to literary use, and they do us good rather than harm. other importations from younger states are too evidently unauthorized to be in any way beautiful, and are blamed on both sides of the ocean as debasing the coinage. but these, too, are making their way, so cheap and convenient are they, and so expressive. it is needful in educating children to remember that this strong inflowing current must be taken into account, and also to remember that it does not belong to them. they must first be trained in the use of the more lasting elements of english; later on they may use their discretion in catching the new words which are afloat in the air, but the foundations must be laid otherwise. it takes the bloom off the freshness of young writers if they are determined to exhibit the last new words that are in, or out of season. new words have a doubtful position at first. they float here and there like thistle-down, and their future depends upon where they settle. but until they are established and accepted they are out of place for children's use. they are contrary to the perfect manner for children. we ask that their english should be simple and unaffected, not that it should glitter with the newest importations, brilliant as they may be. it is from the more permanent element in the language that they will acquire what they ought to have, the characteristic traits of thought and manner which belong to it. it is not too much to look for such things in children's writing and speaking. the first shoots and leaves may come up early though the full growth and flower may be long waited for. these characteristics are often better put into words by foreign critics than by ourselves, for we are inclined to take them as a whole and to take them for granted; hence the trouble experienced by educated foreigners in catching the characteristics of english style, and their surprise in finding that we have no authentic guides to english composition, fend that the court of final appeal is only the standard of the best use. the words of a german critic on a collection of english portraits in berlin are very happily pointed and might be as aptly applied to writing as to painting. "english, utterly english! nothing on god's earth could be more english than this whole collection. the personality of the artist (_it happened that he was an irishman_), the countenances of the subjects, their dress, the discreetly suggestive backgrounds, all have the characteristic touch of british culture, very refined, very high-bred, very quiet, very much clarified, very confident, very neat, very well-appointed, a little dreamy and just a little wearisome--the precise qualities which at the same time impress and annoy us in the english." this is exactly what might be said of pater's writing, but that is full-grown english. pater is not a model for children, they would find him more than "just a little wearisome." if anyone could put into words what sir joshua reynolds' portraits of children express, that would be exactly what we want for the model of their english. they can write and they can speak in a beautiful way of their own if they are allowed a little liberty to grow wild, and trained a little to climb. their charm is candour, as it is the charm of sir joshua's portraits, with a quiet confidence that all is well in the world they know, and that everyone is kind; this gives the look of trustful innocence and unconcern. their writing and talking have this charm, as long as nothing has happened to make them conscious of themselves. but these first blossoms drop off, and there is generally an intermediate stage in which they can neither speak nor write, but keep their thoughts close, and will not give themselves away. only when that stage is past do they really and with full consciousness seek to express themselves, and pay some attention to the self-expression of others. this third stage has its may-day, when the things which have become hackneyed to our minds from long use come to them with the full force of revelations, and they astonish us by their exuberant delight. but they have a right to their may-day and it ought not to be cut short; the sun will go down of itself, and then june will come in its own time and ripen the green wood, and after that will come pruning time, in another season, and then the phase of severity and fastidiousness, and after that--if they continue to write--they will be truly themselves. in every stage we have our duty to do, encouraging and pruning by turns, and, as in everything else, we must begin with ourselves and go on with ourselves that there may be always something living to give, and some growth; for in this we need never cease to grow, in knowledge, in taste, and in critical power. the means are not far to seek; if we really care about these things, the means are everywhere, in reading the best things, in taking notes, in criticising independently and comparing with the best criticism, in forming our own views and yet keeping a willingness to modify them, in an attitude of mind that is always learning, always striving, always raising its standard, never impatient but permanently dissatisfied. we have three spheres of action in the use of the language--there is english to speak, english to write, and the wide field of english to read, and there are vital interests bound up in each for the after life of children. as they speak, so will be the tone of their intercourse; as they write, so will be the standard of their habits of thought; and as they read so will be the atmosphere of their life, and the preparation of their judgment for those critical moments of choice which are the pivots upon which its whole action moves. if practice alone would develop it to perfection, speaking ought to be easy to learn, but it does not prove so, and especially when children are together in schools the weeds grow faster than the crop, and the crop is apt to be thin. the language of the majority holds its own; children among children can express with a very small vocabulary what they want to say to each other, whereas an only child who lives with its elders has usually a larger vocabulary than it can manage, which makes the sayings of only children quaint and almost weird, as the perfection of the instrument persuades us that there is a full-grown thought within it, and a child's fancy suddenly laughs at us from under the disguise. there is general lamentation at present because the art of conversation has fallen to a very low ebb; there is, in particular, much complaint of the conversation of girls whose education is supposed to have been careful. the subjects they care to talk of are found to be few and poor, their power of expressing themselves very imperfect, the scanty words at their command worked to death in supplying for all kinds of things to which they are not appropriate. we know that we have a great deal of minted gold in the english language, but little of it finds its way into our general conversation, most of our intercourse is carried on with small change, a good deal of it even in coppers, and the worst trouble of all is that so few seem to care or to regret it. perhaps the young generation will do so later in life, but unless something is done for them during the years of their education it does not seem probable, except in the case of the few who are driven by their professional work to think of it, or drawn to it by some influence that compels them to exert themselves in earnest. listening to the conversation of girls whose thoughts and language are still in a fluid state, say from the age of to , gives a great deal of matter for thought to those who are interested in education, and this point of language is of particular interest. there are the new catch-words of each year; they had probably a great _piquancy_ in the mouth of the originator but they very soon become flat by repetition, then they grow jaded, are more and more neglected and pass away altogether. from their rising to their setting the arc is very short--about five years seems to be the limit of their existence, and no one regrets them. we do not seem to be in a happy vein of development at present as to the use of words, and these short-lived catch-words are generally poor in quality. our girl talkers are neither rich nor independent in their language, they lay themselves under obligations to anyone who will furnish a new catch-word, and especially to boys from whom they take rather than accept contributions of a different kind. it is an old-fashioned regret that girls should copy boys instead of developing themselves independently in language and manners; but though old-fashioned, it will never cease to be true that what was made to be beautiful on its own line is dwarfed and crippled by straining it into imitation of something else which it can never be. what can be done for the girls to give them first more independence in their language and then more power to express themselves? probably the best cure, food and tonic in one, is reading; a taste for the best reading alters the whole condition of mental life, and without being directly attacked the defects in conversation will correct themselves. but we could do more than is often done for the younger children, not by talking directly about these things, but by being a little harder to please, and giving when it is possible the cordial commendation which makes them feel that what they have done was worth working for. recitation and reading aloud, besides all their other uses, have this use that they accustom children to the sound of their own voices uttering beautiful words, which takes away the odd shyness which some of them feel in going beyond their usual round of expressions and extending their vocabulary. we owe it to our language as well as to each individual child to make recitation and reading aloud as beautiful as possible. perhaps one of the causes of our conversational slovenliness is the neglect of these; critics of an older generation have not ceased to lament their decay, but it seems as if better times were coming again, and that as the fundamentals of breathing and voice-production are taught, we shall increase the scope of the power acquired and give it more importance. there is a great deal underlying all this, beyond the acquirement of voice and pronunciation. if recitation is cultivated there is an inducement to learn by heart; this in its turn ministers to the love of reading and to the formation of literary taste, and enriches the whole life of the mind. there is an indirect but far-reaching gain of self-possession, from the need for outward composure and inward concentration of mind in reciting before others. but it is a matter of importance to choose recitations so that nothing should be learnt which must be thrown away, nothing which is not worth remembering for life. it is a pity to make children acquire what they will soon despise when they might learn something that they will grow up to and prize as long as they live. there are beautiful things that they can understand, if something is wanted for to-day, which have at the same time a life that will never be outgrown. there are poems with two aspects, one of which is acceptable to a child and the other to the grown-up mind; these, one is glad to find in anthologies for children. but there are many poems about children of which the interest is so subtle as to be quite unsuitable for their collection. such a poem is "we are seven." children can be taught to say it, even with feeling, but their own genuine impression of it seems to be that the little girl was rather weak in intellect for eight years old, or a little perverse. whereas browning's "an incident of the french camp" appeals to them by pride of courage as it does to us by pathos. it may not be a gem, poetically speaking, but it lives. as children grow older it is only fair to allow them some choice in what they learn and recite, to give room for their taste to follow its own bent; there are a few things which it is well that every one should know by heart, but beyond these the field is practically without limits. perfect recitation or reading aloud is very rare and difficult to acquire. for a few years there was a tendency to over-emphasis in both, and, in recitation, to teach gesture, for which as a nation we are singularly inapt. this is happily disappearing, simplicity and restraint are regaining their own, at least in the best teaching for girls. as to reading aloud to children it begins to be recognized that it should not be too explicit, nor too emphatic, nor too pointed; that it must leave something for the natural grace of the listener's intelligence to supply and to feel. there is a didactic tone in reading which says, "you are most unintelligent, but listen to me and there may yet be hope that you will understand." this leaves the "poor creatures" of the class still unmoved and unenlightened; "the child is not awakened," while the more sensitive minds are irritated; they can feel it as an impertinence without quite knowing why they are hurt. it is a question of manners and consideration which is perceptible to them, for they like what is best--sympathy and suggestiveness rather than hammering in. they can help each other by their simple insight into these things when they read aloud, and if a reading lesson in class is conducted as an exercise in criticism it is full of interest. the frank good-nature and gravity of twelve-year-old critics makes their operations quite painless, and they are accepted with equal good humour and gravity, no one wasting any emotion and a great deal of good sense being exchanged. conversation, as conversation, is hard to teach, we can only lead the way and lay down a few principles which keep it in the right path. these commonplaces of warning, as old as civilization itself, belong to manners and to fundamental unselfishness, but obvious as they are they have to be said and to be repeated and enforced until they become matters of course. not to seem bored, not to interrupt, not to contradict, not to make personal remarks, not to talk of oneself (some one was naive enough to say "then what is there to talk of"), not to get heated and not to look cold, not to do all the talking and not to be silent, not to advance if the ground seems uncertain, and to be sensitively attentive to what jars--all these and other things are troublesome to obtain, but exceedingly necessary. and even observing them all we may be just as far from conversation as before; how often among english people, through shyness or otherwise, it simply faints from inanition. we can at least teach that a first essential is to have something to say, and that the best preparation of mind is thought and reading and observation, to be interested in many things, and to give enough personal application to a few things as to have something worth saying about them. by testing in writing every step of an educational course a great deal of command over all acquired materials may be secured. as our girls grow older, essay-writing becomes the most powerful means for fashioning their minds and bringing out their individual characteristics. it is customary now to begin with oral composition,--quite rightly, for one difficulty at a time is enough. but when children have to write for themselves the most natural beginning is by letters. a great difference in thought and power is observable in their first attempts, but in the main the structure of their letters is similar, like the houses and the moonfaced persons which they draw in the same symbolic way. perhaps both are accepted conventions to which they conform--handed down through generations of the nursery tradition--though students of children are inclined to believe that these symbolical drawings represent their real mind in the representation of material things. their communications move in little bounds, a succession of happy thoughts, the kind of things which birds in conversation might impart to one another, turning their heads quickly from side to side and catching sight of many things unrelated amongst themselves. it is a pity that this manner is often allowed to last too long, for in these stages of mental training it is better to be on the stretch to reach the full stature of one's age rather than to linger behind it, and early promise in composition means a great deal. to write of the things which belong to one's age in a manner that is fully up to their worth or even a little beyond it, is better than to strain after something to say in a subject that is beyond the mental grasp. the first thing to learn is how to write pleasantly about the most simple and ordinary things. but a common fault in children's writing is to wait for an event, "something to write about," and to dispose of it in three or four sentences like telegrams. the influences which determine these early steps are, first, the natural habit of mind, for thoughtful children see most interesting and strange things in their surroundings; secondly, the tone of their ordinary conversation, but especially a disposition that is unselfish and affectionate. warm-hearted children who are gifted with sympathy have an intuition of what will give pleasure, and that is one of the great secrets of letter-writing. but the letters they write will always depend in a great measure on the letters they receive, and a family gift for letter-writing is generally the outcome of a happy home-life in which all the members are of interest to each other and their doings of importance. what sympathy gives to letter-writing, imagination gives to the first essays of children in longer compositions. imagination puts them in sympathy with all the world, with things as well as persons, as affection keeps them in touch with every detail of the home world. but its work is not so simple. home affection is true and is a law to itself; if it is present it holds all the little child's world in a right proportion, because all heavenly affection is bound up with it. but the awakening and the rapid development of imagination as girls grow up needs a great deal of guidance and training. fancy may overgrow itself, and take an undue predominance, so that life is tuned to the pitch of imagination and not imagination to the pitch of life. it is hardly possible and hardly to be desired that it should never overflow the limits of perfect moderation; if it is to be controlled, there must be something to control, in pruning there must be some strong shoots to cut back, and in toning down there must be some over-gaudy colours to subdue. it is better that there should be too much life than too little, and better that criticism should find something vigorous enough to lay hold of, rather than something which cannot be felt at all. this is the time to teach children to begin their essays without preamble, by something that they really want to say, and to finish them leaving something still unsaid that they would like to have expressed, so as not to pour out to the last drop their mind or their fancy on any subject. this discipline of promptitude in beginning and restraint at the end will tell for good upon the quality of their writing. but the work of the imagination may also betray something unreal and morbid--this is a more serious fault and means trouble coming. it generally points to a want of focus in the mind; because self predominates in the affections feeling and interest are self-centred. then the whole development of mind comes to a disappointing check--the mental power remains on the level of unstable sixteen years old, and the selfish side develops either emotionally or frivolously--according to taste, faster than it can be controlled. there are cross-roads at about sixteen in a girl's life. after two or three troublesome years she is going to make her choice, not always consciously and deliberately, but those who are alive to what is going on may expect to hear about this time her speech from the throne, announcing what the direction of her life is going to be. it is not necessarily the choice of a vocation in life, that belongs to an order of things that has neither day nor hour determined for it, but it is when the mental outlook takes a direction of its own, literary, or artistic, or philosophical, or worldly, or turning towards home; it may sometimes be the moment of decisive vocation to leave all things for god, or, as has so often happened in the lives of the saints, the time when a child's first desire, forgotten for a while, asserts itself again. in any case it is generally a period of new awakenings, and if things are as they ought to be, generally a time of deep happiness--the ideal hour in the day of our early youth. all this is faithfully rendered in the essays of that time; we unsuspectingly give ourselves away. after this, for those who are going to write at all, comes the "viewy" stage, and this is full of interest. we are so dogmatic, so defiant, so secure in our persuasions. it is impossible to believe that they will ever alter. yet who has lived through this phase of abounding activity and has not found that, at first with the shock of disappointment, and afterwards without regret, a memorial cross had to be set by our wayside, here and there, marking the place of rest for our most enthusiastic convictions. in the end one comes to be glad of it, for if it means anything it means a growth in the truth. the criticism of essays is one of the choice opportunities which education offers, for then the contact of mind with mind is so close that truth can be told under form of criticism, which as exhortation would have been less easily accepted. it is evident that increasing freedom must be allowed as the years go on, and that girls have a right to their own taste and manner--and within the limits of their knowledge to form their own opinions; but it is in this period of their development that they are most sensitive to the mental influence of those who are training them, and their quick responsiveness to the best is a constant stimulus to go on for their sakes, discovering and tasting and training one's discernment in what is most excellent. from this point we may pass to what is first in the order of things--but first and last in this department of an english education--and that is reading, with the great field of literature before us, and the duty of making the precious inheritance all that it ought to be to this young generation of ours--heiresses to all its best. english literature will be to children as they grow up, what we have made it to them in the beginning. there will always be the exceptional few, privileged ones, who seem to have received the key to it as a personal gift. they will find their way without us, but if we have the honour of rendering them service we may do a great deal even for them in showing where the best things lie, and the way to make them one's own. but the greater number have to be taken through the first steps with much thought and discernment, for taste in literature is not always easy to develop, and may be spoiled by bad management at the beginning. we are not very teachable as a nation in this matter--our young taste is wayward, and sometimes contradictory, it will not give account of itself, very likely it cannot. we have inarticulate convictions that this is right, and suits us, and something else is wrong as far as our taste is concerned, and that we have rights to like what we like and condemn what we do not like, and we have gone a considerable way along the road before we can stop and look about us and see the reason of our choice. english literature itself fosters this independent spirit of criticism by its extraordinary abundance, its own wide liberty of spirit, its surpassing truthfulness. our greatest poets and our truest do not sing to an audience but to their maker and to his world, and let anyone who can understand it catch the song, and sing it after them. no doubt many have fallen from the truth and piped an artificial tune, and they have had their following. but love for the real and true is very deep and in the end it prevails, and as far as we can obtain it with children it must prevail. their first acquaintance with beautiful things is best established by reading aloud to them, and this need not be limited entirely to what they can understand at the time. even if we read something that is beyond them, they have listened to the cadences, they have heard the song without the words, the words will come to them later. if there is good ground for the seed to fall upon, and we sow good seed, it will come up with its thirtyfold or more, as seed sown in the mind seems always to come up, whether it be good or bad, and even if it has lain dormant for years. there are good moments laid up in store for the future when the words, which have been familiar for years, suddenly awake to life, and their meaning, full-grown, at the moment when we need it, or at the moment when we are able to understand its value, dawns upon the mind. then we are grateful to those who invested these revenues for us though we knew it not. we are not grateful to those who give us the less good though pleasant and easy to enjoy. a little severity and fastidiousness render us better service. and this is especially true for girls, since for them it is above all important that there should be a touch of the severe in their taste, and that they should be a little exacting, for if they once let themselves go to what is too light-heartedly popular they do not know where to draw the line and they go very far, with great loss to themselves and others. one of the beautiful things of to-day in england is the wealth of children's literature. it is a peculiar grace of our time that we are all trying to give the best to the children, and this is most of all remarkable in the books published for them. we had rather a silly moment in which we kept them babies too long and thought that rhymes without reason would please them, and another moment when we were just a little morbid about them; but now we have struck a very happy vein, free from all morbidness, very innocent and very happy, abounding in life and in no way unfitting for the experiences that have to be lived through afterwards. no one thinks it waste of time to write and illustrate books for children, and to do their very best in both, and the result of historical research and the most critical care of texts is put within the children's reach with a real understanding of what they can care for. a true appreciation of the english classics must result from this, and the mere reading of what is choice is an early safeguard against the less good. reading, without commentary, is what is best accepted; we are beginning to come back to this belief. it is agreed almost generally that there has been too much comment and especially too much analysis in our teaching of literature, and that the majesty or the loveliness of our great writers' works have not been allowed to speak for themselves. we have not trusted them enough, and we have not trusted the children so much as they deserved. the little boy who said he could understand if only they would not explain has become historical, and his word of warning, though it may not have sounded quite respectful, has been taken into account. we have now fewer of the literary baedeker's guides who stopped us at particular points, to look back for the view, and gave the history and date of the work with its surrounding circumstances, and the meaning of every word, while they took away the soul of the poem, and robbed us of our whole impression. we realize now that by reading and reading again, until they have mastered the music, and the meaning dawns of itself, children gain more than the best annotations can give them; these will be wanted later on, but in the beginning they set the attitude of mind completely wrong for early literary study in which reverence and receptiveness and delight are of more account than criticism. the memory of these things is so much to us in after life, and if the living forms of beautiful poems have been torn to pieces to show us the structure within, and the matter has been shaken out into ungainly paraphrase and pursued with relentless analysis until it has given up the last secret of its meaning, the remembrance of this destructive process will remain and the spirit will never be the same again. the best hope for beautiful memories is in perfect reading aloud, with that reverence of mind and reticence of feeling which keeps itself in the background, not imposing a marked per-bonal interpretation, but holding up the poem with enough support to make it speak for itself and no more. there is a vexed question about the reading allowed to girls which cannot be entirely passed over. it is a point on which authorities differ widely among themselves, according to the standard of their family, the whole early training which has given their mind a particular bent, the quality of their own taste and their degree of sensitiveness and insight, the views which they hold about the character of girls, their ideas of the world and the probable future surroundings of those whom they advise, as well as many other considerations. it is quite impossible to arrive at a uniform standard, or at particular precepts or at lists of books or authors which should or should not be allowed. even if these could be drawn up, it would be more and more difficult to enforce them or to keep the rules abreast of the requirements of each publishing season. in reading, as in conduct, each one must bear more and more of their own personal responsibility, and unless the law is within themselves there is no possibility of enforcing it. the present cardinal archbishop of westminster, when rector of st. john's seminary, wonersh, used to lay down the following rules for his students, and on condition of their adhering to these rules he allowed them great freedom in their reading, but if they were disregarded, it was understood that the rector took no responsibility about the books they read:-- . "be perfectly conscientious, and if you find a book is doing you harm stop reading it at once. if you know you cannot stop you must be most careful not to read anything you don't know about." . "be perfectly frank with your confessor and other superiors. don't keep anything hidden from them." . "don't recommend books to others which, although they may do no harm to you, might do harm to them." these rules are very short but they call for a great deal of self-control, frankness, and discretion. they set up an inward standard for the conscience, and, if honestly followed, they answer in practice any difficulty that is likely to arise as to choice of reading. [ --in the appendix will be found a pastoral letter by cardinal bourne, archbishop of westminster, then bishop of southwark, bearing on this subject and full of instruction for all who have to deal with it.] but the application of these rules presupposes a degree of judgment and self-restraint which are hardly to be found in girls of school-room years, and before they can adjust themselves to the relative standard and use the curb for themselves, it is necessary to set before them some fixed rules by which to judge. while life is young and character plastic and personal valuations still in formation, the difficulty is to know what is harmful. "how am i to know," such a one may ask, "whether what seems harmful to me may not be really a gain, giving me a richer life, a greater expansion of spirit, a more independent and human character? may not this effect which i take to be harm, be no more than necessary growing pains; may it not be bringing me into truer relation with life as it is, and as a whole?" there will always be on one side timid and mediocre minds, satisfied to shut themselves up and safeguard what they already have; and on the other more daring and able spirits who are tempted beyond the line of safety in a thirst for discovery and adventure, and are thus swept out beyond their own immature control. books that foster the spirit of rebellion, of doubt and discontent concerning the essentials and inevitable elements of human life, that tend to sap the sense of personal responsibility, and to disparage the cardinal virtues and the duty of self-restraint as against impulse, are emphatically bad. they are particularly bad for girls with their impressionable minds and tendency to imitation, and inclination to be led on by the glamour of the old temptation; "your eyes shall be opened; you shall be as gods, knowing good and evil." to follow a doubt or a lie or a by-way of conduct with the curiosity to see what comes of it in the end, is to prepare their own minds for similar lines of thought and action, and in the crises of life, when they have to choose for themselves, often unadvised and without time to deliberate, they are more likely to fall by the doubt or the lie or the spirit of revolt which has become familiar to them in thought and sympathy. chapter ix. modern languages. "all nations have their message from on high, each the messiah of some central thought, for the fulfilment and delight of man: one has to teach that labour is divine; another freedom and another mind; and all, that god is open-eyed and just, the happy centre and calm heart of all." james russell lowell. we cannot have a perfect knowledge even of our own language without some acquaintance with more than one other, either classical or modern. this is especially true of english because it has drawn its strength and wealth from so many sources, and absorbed them into itself. but this value is usually taken indirectly, by the way, and the understanding of it only comes to us after years as an appreciable good. it is, however, recognized that no education corresponding to the needs of our own time can be perfected or even adequately completed in one language alone. not only do the actual conditions of life make it imperative to have more than one tongue at our command from the rapid extension of facilities for travelling, and increased intercourse with other nations; but in proportion to the cooling down of our extreme ardour for experimental science in the school-room we are returning to recognize in language a means of education more adapted to prepare children for life, by fitting them for intercourse with their fellow-creatures and giving them some appreciative understanding of the works of man's mind. thus languages, and especially modern languages, are assuming more and more importance in the education of children, not only with us, but in most other countries of europe. in some of them the methods are distinctly in advance of ours. much has been written of late years in the course of educational discussions as to the value of classical studies in education. as the best authorities are not yet in agreement among themselves it would be obviously out of place to add anything here on the subject. but the controversy principally belongs to classics in boys' schools; as to the study of latin by girls, and in particular to its position in catholic schools, there is perhaps something yet to be said. in non-catholic schools for girls latin has not, even now, a great hold. it is studied for certain examinations, but except for the few students whose life takes a professional turn it scarcely outlives the school-room. girl students at universities cannot compete on equal terms with men in a classical course, and the fact is very generally acknowledged by their choosing another. except in the rarest instances--let us not be afraid to own it--our latin is that of amateurs, brilliant amateurs perhaps, but unmistakable. latin, for girls, is a source of delight, a beautiful enrichment of their mental life, most precious in itself and in its influence, but it is not a living power, nor a familiar instrument, nor a great discipline; it is deficient in hardness and closeness of grain, so that it cannot take polish; it is apt to betray by unexpected transgressions the want of that long, detailed, severe training which alone can make classical scholarship. it is usually a little tremulous, not quite sure of itself, and indeed its best adornment is generally the sobriety induced by an overshadowing sense of paternal correction and solicitude always present to check rashness and desultoriness, and make it at least "gang warily" with a finger on its lip; and their attainments in latin are, at the best, receptively rather than actively of value. in catholic girls' schools, however, the elements of latin are almost necessity. it is wanting in courtesy, it is almost uncouth for us to grow up without any knowledge of the language of holy church. it is almost impossible for educated catholics to have right taste in devotion, the "love and relish" of the most excellent things, without some knowledge of our great liturgical prayers and hymns in the original. we never can really know them if we only hear them halting and plunging and splashing through translations, wasting their strength in many words as they must unavoidably do in english, and at best only reaching an approximation to the sense. the use of them in the original is discipline and devotion in one, and it strengthens the catholic historical hold on the past, with a sense of nearness, when we dwell with some understanding on the very words which have been sung in the church subsisting in all ages and teaching all nations. this is our birthright, but it is not truly ours unless we can in some degree make use of what we own. it has often been pointed out that even to the most uneducated amongst our people latin is never a dead language to catholics, and that the familiar prayers at mass and public devotions make them at home in the furthest countries of the earth as soon as they are within the church doors. so far as this, it is a universal language for us, and even if it went no further than the world-wide home feeling of the poor in our churches it would make us grateful for every word of latin that has a familiar sound to them, and this alone might make us anxious to teach catholic children at school, for the use of prayer and devotion, as much latin as they can learn even if they never touch a classic. our attitude towards the study of modern languages has had its high and low tides within the last century. we have had our submissive and our obstinate moods; at present we are rather well and affably disposed. french used to be acknowledged without a rival as the universal language; it was a necessity, and in general the older generation learned it carefully and spoke it well. at that time italian was learned from taste and german was exceptional. queen victoria's german marriage and all the close connexion that followed from it pressed the study of german to the front; the influence of carlyle told in the same direction, and the study of italian declined. then in our enthusiasm for physical sciences for a time we read more german, but not german of the best quality, and in another line we were influenced by german literary criticism. now, the balance of things has altered again. for scholarship and criticism german is in great request; in commercial education it is being outrun by spanish; for the intercourse of ordinary life germans are learning english much more eagerly than we are learning german. we have had a fit of--let us call it--shyness, but we are trying to do better. we recognize that these fits of shyness are not altogether to our credit, not wholly reasonable, and that we are not incapable of learning foreign languages well. we know the story of the little boy reprimanded by the magistrate for his folly in running away from home because he was obliged to learn french, and his haughty reply that if foreigners wished to speak to him they might learn his language. but our children have outgrown him, as to his declaration if not as to his want of diligence, and we are in general reforming our methods of teaching so much that it will soon be inexcusable not to speak one or two languages well, besides our own. the question of pronunciation and accent has been haunted by curious prejudices. an english accent in a foreign tongue has been for some speakers a refuge for their shyness, and for others a stronghold of their patriotism. the first of these feared that they would not be truly themselves unless their personality could take shelter beneath an accent that was unmistakably from england, and the others felt that it was like hauling down the british flag to renounce the long-drawn english "a-o-o." and, curiously, at the other extreme, the slightest tinge of an english accent is rather liked in paris, perhaps only among those touched with anglomania. but now we ought to be able to acquire whatever accent we choose, even when living far away from every instructor, having the gramophone to repeat to us untiringly the true spanish "manana" and the french "ennui." and the study of phonetics, so much developed within the last few years, makes it unpardonable for teachers of modern languages to let the old english faults prevail. we have had our succession of methods too. the old method of learning french, with a _bonne_ in the nursery first, and then a severely academic governess or tutor, produced french of unsurpassed quality-but it belonged to home education, it required a great deal of leisure, it did not adapt itself to school curricula in which each child, to use the expressive american phrase, "carries" so many subjects that the hours and minutes for each have to be jealously counted out. there have been a series of methods succeeding one another which can scarcely be called more than quack methods of learning languages, claiming to be the natural method, the maternal method, the only rational method, etc. educational advertisements of these have been magnificent in their promise, but opinions are not entirely at one as to the results. the conclusions which suggest themselves after seeing several of these methods at work are:-- . that good teachers can make use of almost any method with excellent results but that they generally evolve one of their own. . that if the teachers and the children take a great deal of trouble the progress will be very remarkable, whatever method is employed, and that without this both the classical and the "natural" methods can accomplish very little. . that teachers with fixed ideas about children and about methods arrest development. . that the self-instruction courses which "work out at a penny a lesson" (the lesson lasts ten minutes and is especially recommended for use in trams), and the gramophone with the most elaborate records, still bear witness to the old doctrine that there is no royal road to the learning of languages, and that it is not cheap in the end. in proportion to the value we set upon perfect acquirement of them will be our willingness to spend much labour upon foundations. by this road we arrive again at the fundamentals of an educator's calling, love and labour. the value to the mind of acquiring languages is so great that all our trouble is repaid. it is not utilitarian value: what is merely for usefulness can be easily acquired, it has very little beauty. it is not for the sake of that commonplace usefulness that we should care to spend trouble upon permanent foundations in any tongue. the mind is satisfied only by the genius of the language, its choicest forms, its characteristic movement, and, most of all, the possession of its literature from within, that is to say of the spirit as it speaks to its own, and in which the language is most completely itself. the special fitness of modern languages in a girl's education does not appear on the surface, and it requires more than a superficial, conversational knowledge to reap the fruit of their study. the social, and at present the commercial values are obvious to every one, and of these the commercial value is growing very loud in its assertions, and appears very exacting in its demands. for this the quack methods promise the short and easy way, and perhaps they are sufficient for it. a knowledge sufficient for business correspondence is not what belongs to a liberal education; it has a very limited range, hard, plain, brief communications, supported on cast-iron frames, inelastic forms and crudest courtesies, a mere formula for each particular case, and a small vocabulary suited to the dealings of every branch of business. we know the parallel forms of correspondence in english, which give a means of communication but not properly a language. even the social values of languages are less than they used to be, as the finer art of conversation has declined. a little goes a long way; the rush of the motor has cut it short; there is not time to exchange more than a few commonplaces, and for these a very limited number of words is enough. but let our girls give themselves time, or let time be allowed them, to give a year or two to the real study of languages, not in the threadbare phrases of the tourist and motorist, nor to mere drawing-room small talk; not with "matriculation standard" as an object, but to read the best that has been written, and try to speak according to the best that can be said now, and to write according to the standard of what is really excellent to-day; then the study of modern languages is lifted quite on to another plane. the particular advantage of this plane is that there is a view from it, wider in proportion to the number of languages known and to the grasp that is acquired of each, and the particular educational gift to be found there is width of sympathy and understanding. defective sympathies, national and racial prejudices thrive upon a lower level. the _elect_ of all nations understand one another, and are strangely alike; the lower we go down in the various grades of each nation the more is the divergency accentuated between one and another. corresponding to this is mutual understanding through language; the better we possess the language of any nation the closer touch we can acquire with all that is theirs, with their best. a superficial knowledge of languages rather accentuates than removes limitations, multiplies mistakes and embitters them. with a half-knowledge we misunderstand each other's ideals, we lose the point of the best things that are said, we fail to catch the aroma of the spices and the spirit of the living word; in fact, we are mere tourists in each other's mental world, and what word could better express the attitude of mind of one who is a stranger, but not a pilgrim, a tramp of a rather more civilized kind, having neither ties nor sympathies nor obligations, nothing to give, and more inclined to take than to receive. to create ties, sympathies, and obligations in the mental life, is a grace belonging to the study of languages, and makes it possible to give and receive hospitality on the best terms with the minds of those of other nations than our own. this is particularly a gift for the education of girls, since all graces of hospitality ought to be peculiarly theirs. to lift them above prejudices, to make them love other beauties than those of their own mental kindred, to afford them a wider possibility of giving happiness to others, and of making themselves at home in many countries, is to give them a power over the conditions of life which reaches very far into their own mental well-being and that of others, and makes them in the best meaning of the word cosmopolitan. the choice of languages to be learnt must depend upon many considerations, but the widest good for english girls, though not the most easy to attain, is to give them perfect french. german is easier to learn from its kinship with our own language, but its grammar is of less educational value than french, and it does not help as french does to the acquirement of the most attractive of other european languages. as a second language, however, and for a great deal that is not otherwise attainable, german is in general the best that can be chosen. italian and spanish have their special claims, but at present in england their appeal is not to the many. german gives the feeling of kindred minds near to us, ourselves yet not ourselves; with primitive teutonic strength and directness, with a sweet freshness of spring in its more delicate poetry, and both of these elements blended at times in an atmosphere as of german forests in june. in some writers the flicker of french brilliancy illumines the depth of these teutonic woods, producing a german which, in spite of the condemnation of the emperor, we should like to write ourselves if the choice were offered to us. but, notwithstanding the depth and strength of german, it is generally agreed that as an instrument of thought french prose in a master-hand is unrivalled, by its subtlety and precision, and its epigrammatic force. every one knows and laments the decadent style which is eating into it; and every one knows that the deplorable tone of much of its contemporary literature makes discernment in french reading a matter not only of education but of conscience and sanity; but this does not make the danger to be inherent in the french language; obliging translators are ready to furnish us, in our own language and according to taste, with the very worst taken, from everywhere. and these faults do not affect the beauty of the instrument, nor its marvellous aptitude for training the mind to precision of expression. the logical bent of the french mind, its love of rule, the elaborateness of its conventions in literature, its ceremonial observances dating from by-gone times, the custom of giving account of everything, of letting no nuance pass unchallenged or uncommented, have given it a power of expression and definiteness which holds together as a complete code of written and unwritten laws, and makes a perfect instrument of its kind. but the very completeness of it has seemed to some writers a fetter, and when they revolt against and break through it, their extravagance passes beyond all ordinary bounds. french represents the two extremes, unheard-of goodness, unequalled perfection, or indescribable badness and unrestraint. unfortunately the unrestraint is making its way, and as with ourselves in england, the magazine literature in france grows more and more undesirable. yet there is unlimited room for reading, and for catholics a great choice of what is excellent. the modern manner of writing the lives of the saints has been very successfully cultivated of late years in france, making them living human beings "interesting as fiction," to use an accepted standard of measurement, more appealingly credible and more imitable than those older works in which they walked remote from the life of to-day, angelic rather than human. there are studies in criticism, too, and essays in practical psychology and social science, which bring within the scope of ordinary readers a great deal which with us can only be reached over rough roads and by-ways. no doubt each method has its advantages; the laboriously acquired knowledge becomes more completely a part of ourselves, but along the metalled way it is obvious that we cover more ground. the comparison of these values leads to the practical question of translations. the italian saying which identifies the translator with the traitor ought to give way to a more grateful and hopeful modern recognition of the services done by conscientious translations. we have undoubtedly suffered in england in the past by well-meaning but incompetent translators, especially of spiritual books, who have given us such impressions as to mislead us about the minds of the writers or even turned us against them altogether, to our own great loss. but at present more care is exercised, and conscientious critical exactitude in translating important spiritual works has given us english versions that are not unworthy of their originals. [ --an example of this is the late canon mackey's edition of the complete works of st. francis of sales, which has, unfortunately, to be completed without him.] there is good service to be done to the church in england by this work of translation, and it is one in which grown-up girls, if they have been sufficiently trained, might give valuable help. it must be borne in mind that not every book which is beautiful or useful in its own language, is desirable to translate. some depend so much upon the genius of the language and the mentality of their native country that they simply evaporate in translation; others appeal so markedly to national points of view that they seem anomalous in other languages, as a good deal of our present-day english writing would appear in french. it has also to be impressed on translators that their responsibility is great; that it takes laborious persistence to make a really good translation, doing justice to both sides, giving the spirit of the author as well as his literal meaning, and not straining the language of the translation into unnatural forms to make it carry a sense that it does not easily bear. the beauty of a translator's work is in the perfect accord of conscience and freedom, and this is not attained without unwearied search for the right word, the only right word which will give the true meaning and the true expression of any idea. to believe that this right word exists is one of the delights of translating; to be a lover of choice and beautiful words is an attraction in itself, leading to the love of things more beautiful still, the love of truth, and fitness, and transparency; the exercise of thought, and discrimination, and balance, and especially of a quality most rare and precious in women--mental patience. it is said that we excel in moral patience, but that when we approach anything intellectual this enduring virtue disappears, and we must "reach the goal in a bound or never arrive there at all." the sustained search for the perfect word would do much to correct this impatience, and if the search is aided by a knowledge of several modern languages so that comparative meanings and uses may be balanced against one another, it will be found not only to open rich veins of thought, but to give an ever-increasing power of working the mines and extracting the gold. chapter x. history. "we have heard, o god, with our ears: our fathers have declared to us, 'the work thou hast wrought in their days, and in the days of old.'"--psalm xliii. "thus independent of times and places, the popes have never found any difficulty, when the proper moment came, of following out a new and daring line of policy (as their astonished foes have called it), of leaving the old world to shift for itself and to disappear from the scene in its due season, and of fastening on and establishing themselves in the new. "i am led to this line of thought by st. gregory's behaviour to the anglo-saxon race, on the break-up of the old civilisation."--cardinal newman, "historical sketches," iii, "a characteristic of the popes." of the so-called secular subjects history is the one which depends most for its value upon the honour in which it is held and upon the standpoint from which it is taught. not that history can be truly a secular subject if it is taught as a whole--isolated periods subdivisions may be separated from the rest and studied in a purely secular spirit, or with no spirit at all--for the animating principle is not in the subdivided parts but in the whole, and only if it is taught as a whole can it receive the honour which belongs to it as the "study of kings," the school of experience and judgment, and one of the greatest teachers of truth. in modern times, since the fall of the western empire, european history has centred, whether for love or for hatred, round the church; and it is thus that catholic education comes to its own in this study, and the catholic mind is more at home among the phenomena and problems of history than other minds for whom the ages of faith are only vaults of superstition, or periods of mental servitude, or at best, ages of high romance. without the church what are the ideals of the crusades, of the holy roman empire, of the religious spirit of chivalry, or the struggle concerning investitures, the temporal power of the popes and their temporal sovereignty, the misery of the "babylonian captivity," the development of the religious orders--in contemporary history--the italian question during the last fifty years, or the present position of the church in france? these are incomprehensible phenomena without the church to give the key to the controversies and meaning to the ideals. without knowing the catholic church from within, it is impossible to conceive of all these things as realities affecting conscience and the purpose and direction of life; their significance is lost if they have to be explained as the mere human struggle for supremacy of persons or classes, mere ecclesiastical disputes, or dreams of imperialism in church matters. take away the church and try to draw up a course of lessons satisfactory to the minds even of girls under eighteen, and at every turn a thoughtful question may be critical, and the explanations in the hands of a non-catholic teacher scarcely less futile than the efforts of old kaspar to satisfy "young peterkin" about the battle of blenheim. what about investitures? "now tell us all about the war, and what they fought each other for?" what about canossa? "what they fought each other for, i could not well make out. but everybody said" quoth he, "that 'twas a famous victory." what about mentana or castel-fidardo? "what good came of it at last?" quoth little peterkin. "why that i cannot tell," said he, "but 'twas a famous victory." the difficulty is tacitly acknowledged by the rare appearance of european history in the curriculum for non-catholic girls' schools. but in any school where the studies are set to meet the requirements of examinations, the teaching of history is of necessity dethroned from the place which belongs to it by right. history deserves a position that is central and commanding, a scheme that is impressive when seen as a whole in retrospect, it deserves to be taught from a point of view which has not to be reconsidered in later years, and this is to be found with all the stability possible, and with every facility for later extension in the natural arrangement of all modern history round the history of the church. during the great development which has taken place in the study of history within the last century, and especially within the last fifty years, the mass of materials has grown so enormous and the list of authors of eminence so imposing that one might almost despair of adapting the subject in any way to a child's world if it were not for this central point of view, in which the incarnation and the church are the controlling facts dominating all others and giving them their due place and proportion. on this commanding point of observation the child and the historian may stand side by side, each seeing truth according to their capacity, and if the child should grow into a historian it would be with an unbroken development--there would not be anything to unlearn. the method of "concentric" teaching against which there is so much to be said when applied to national history or to other branches of teaching is entirely appropriate here, because no wider vision of the world can be attained than from the point whence the church views it, in her warfare to make the kingdoms of the world become the kingdom of god and his christ that he may reign for ever and ever. the church beholds the _rational_ not the _sensible_ horizon of history, and standing at her point of view, the great ones and the little ones of the earth, historians and children, can look at the same heavens, one with the scientific instruments of his observatory, the other with the naked eye of a child's faith and understanding. but the teaching of history as it has been carried on for some years, would have to travel a long way to arrive at this central point of view. as an educational subject a great deal has been done to destroy its value, by what was intended to give it assistance and stimulus. the history syllabus and requirements for university local and other examinations have produced specially adapted text-books, in which facts and summaries have been arranged in order with wonderful care and forethought, to "meet all requirements"; but the kind intention with which every possible need has been foreseen between the covers of one text-book has defeated its own purpose, the living thing is no longer there--its skeleton remains, and after handling the dry bones and putting them in order and giving an account of them to the examining body, the children escape with relief to something more real, to the people of fiction who, however impossible to believe in, are at least flesh and blood, and have some points of contact with their own lives. "of course as we go up for examinations here," wrote a child from a new school, "we only learn the summaries and genealogies of history and other subjects." a sidelight on the fruit of such a plan is often cast in the appreciations of its pupils. "did you like history?" "no i hated it, i can't bear names and dates." "what did you think of so and so?" "he wasn't in my period." so history has become names and dates, genealogies and summaries, hard pebbles instead of bread. it is unfair to children thus to prejudice them against a subject which thrills with human interest, and touches human life at every turn, it is unfair to history to present it thus, it is misleading to give development to a particular period without any general scheme against which it may show in due proportion, as misleading as the old picture-books for children in which the bat on one page and the man on the other were of the same size. there must necessarily be a principle of selection, but one of the elements to be considered in making choice ought always to be that of proportion and of fitness in adaptation to a general scheme. it was pointed out by sir joshua fitch in his "lessons on teaching" (an old-fashioned book now, since it was published before the deluge of "pedagogics," but still valuable) that an ideal plan of teaching history to children might be found in the historical books of holy scripture, and in practice the idea is useful, suggesting that one aim should be kept in view, that at times the guiding line should contract to a mere clue of direction, and at others expand into very full and vivid narrative chiefly in biographical form. the principle may be applied in the teaching of any history that may be given to children, that is to say, in general, to sacred history which has its own place in connexion with religious teaching, to ancient history within very small limits, to greek and roman history in such proportion as the years of education may allow, and to the two most prominent and most necessary for children, the history of their own country and that of modern europe directed along the lines of the history of the church. there are periods and degrees of development in the minds of children to which correspond different manners of teaching and even different objects, as we make appeal to one or other of the growing faculties. the first stage is imaginative, the second calls not only upon the imagination and memory but upon the understanding, and the third, which is the beginning of a period of fruition, begins to exercise the judgment, and to give some ideas concerning principles of research and criticism. the first is the period of romance, when by means of the best myths of many nations, from their heroic legends and later stories, the minds of children are turned to what is high and beautiful in the traditions of the past, and they learn those truths concerning human life and destiny which transcend the more limited truths of literal records of fact. in the beginning they are, to children, only stories, but we know ourselves that we can never exhaust the value of what came to us through the story of the wanderings of ulysses, or the mysterious beauty of the northern and western myths, as the story of balder or the children of lir. the art of telling stories is beginning to be taught with wonderful power and beauty, the storyteller is turning into the pioneer of the historian, coming in advance to occupy the land, so that history may have "staked out a claim" before the examining bodies can arrive, in the dry season, to tread down the young growth. the second period makes appeal to the intelligence, as well as to the imagination, and to this stage belongs particularly the study of the national history, the history of their own race and country; for english girls the history of england, not yet constitutional history, but the history of the constitution with that of the kings and people, and further the history of the empire. to this period of education belong the great lessons of loyalty and patriotism, that piety towards our own country which is so much on the decline as the home tie grows feebler. we do not want to teach the narrow patriotism which only finds expression in antagonism to and disparagement of other countries, but that which is shown by self-denial and self-sacrifice for the good of our own. the time to teach it is in that unsettled "middle age" of childhood when its exuberant feeling is in search of an ideal, when large moral effects can be appreciated, when there is some opening understanding of the value of character. if the first period of childhood delights in what is strange, this second period gives its allegiance to what is strong, by preference to primitive and simple strength, to uncomplex aims and marked characters; it appreciates courage and endurance, and can bear to hear of sufferings which daunt the fastidiousness of those who are a few years older; perhaps it can endure so much because it realizes so little, but the fact remains true. this age exults in the sufferings of the martyrs and cannot bear the suggestion that plain duties may be heroic before god. there is a great deal that may be done for minds in this period of development by the teaching of history if it is not crippled in its programme. to make concrete their ideals of greatness in the right personalities--a work which is as easily spoiled by a word out of season as a fine porcelain vase is cracked in a furnace--to direct their ideas of the aims of life towards worthy and unselfish ends, to foster true loyalty because of god from whom all authority comes--and this lesson has its pathetic poignancy for us in the history of our english martyrs--to show the claims that our country has upon the devotion of its sons and daughters, and to inspire some feeling of responsibility for its honour, especially to show the supreme worth of character and self-sacrifice, all these things may and must be taught in this middle period of children's education if they are to have any strong hold upon them in after life. it is a stubborn age in which teaching has to be on strong lines and deep ones; when the evolution of character is in the critical period that is to make or mar its future, it needs a strong hand over it, with power both to control and to support, a strong mind to command its respect, strong convictions to impress it, and strong principles on which to test its own young strength; and all those who have the privilege of teaching history to children of this age have an incomparable opportunity of training mind and character. the strength of our own convictions, the brightness of our own ideals, the fibre of our patriotism and loyalty will tell in the measure of two endowments, our own spirit of self-sacrifice and our tact. children will detect the least false note if self-sacrifice is preached without experimental knowledge; and as it is the most contradictory of all ages, it takes every resource of tact to pilot it through channels for which there is no chart. the masterpieces of educators are wrought in this difficult but most interesting material. those who come after them will see what they have done, they cannot see it themselves. with less difficulty perhaps, because reason is more developed and the hot-headed and irritable phase of character is passing away, they will be able to apply the principles which have been laid down. with less difficulty, that is to say against less resistance, but not with less responsibility or even with less anxiety. for the nearer the work approaches to its completion and the more perfectly it has been begun, the more deeply must anyone approaching to lay hand upon it feel the need for great reverence, and self-restraint, and patience, and vigilance, not to spoil by careless interference that which is ready to receive and to give all that is best in youth, not to be unworthy of the confidence which a young mind is willing to place in its guidance. for although so much stress is laid upon the impressionability of first childhood and the ineffaceable marks that are engraven on it, yet as to all that belongs to the mind and judgment this third period, in the early years of adolescence, is more sensitive still, because real criticism is just beginning to be possible and appreciation is in its spring-tide, now for the first time fully alive and awake. a transition line has been passed, and the study of history, like everything else, enters upon a new phase. the elementary teaching which has been sufficient up to this, which has in fact been the only possible teaching, must widen out in the third period, and the relative importance of aims is the line on which the change to more advanced teaching is felt. the exercise of judgment becomes the chief object, and to direct this aright is the principal duty of those who teach at this age. it is not easy to give a right discernment and true views. to begin with one must have them oneself, and be able to support them with facts and arguments, they must have the weight of patient work behind them, and have settled themselves deeply in the mind; opinions freshly gathered that very day from an article or an essay are attractive and interesting and they appeal very strongly to young minds looking out for theories and clues, but they only give superficial help; in general, essay-writers and journalists do not expect to be taken too seriously, they intend to be suggestive rather than convincing, and it is a great matter to have the principle understood by girls, that it is not to the journalists that they must look for the last word in a controversy, nor for a permanent presentment of contemporary history. again, it is necessary to remember the waywardness of girls' minds, and that it is conviction, not submission of views that we must aim at. a show of authority is out of place, the tone that "you must think as i do," tends without any bad will on the part of children to exasperate them and rouse the spirit of opposition, whereas a patient and even deferential hearing of their views and admission of their difficulties ensures at least a mind free from irritation and impatience, to listen and to take into account what we have to say. they are not to be blamed for having difficulties in accepting what we put before them; on the contrary we must welcome their independent thought even if it seems aggressive and conceited; their positive assurance that they see to the end of things is characteristic of their age, but it is better that they should show themselves thus, than through want of thought or courage fall in with everything that is set before them, or, worse still, take that pose of impartiality which allows no views at all, and in the end obliterates the line between right and wrong. the too submissive minds which give no trouble now, are laying it all up for the future. they accept what we tell them without opposition, others will come later on, telling them something different, and they will accept it in the same way, and correct their views day by day to the readings of the daily paper, or of the _vogue_ of their own particular set. these are the minds which in the end are absorbed by the world: the church receives neither love nor service from them. judgment may be passed upon actions as right or wrong in themselves, or as practically adapting means to end; the first is of great interest even to young children, but for them it is all black or white, and characters are to them entirely good or entirely bad, deserving of unmixed admiration or of their most excellent hatred, which they pour out simply and vehemently, rejoicing without qualms of pity when punishment overtakes the wrongdoer and retributive justice is done to the wicked. this is perhaps what makes them seem bloodthirsty in their vengeance; they feel that so it ought to be, and that the affirmation of principle is of more account than the individual. they detest half-measures and compromise. for the elder girls it is not so simple, and the nearer they come to our own times the more necessary is it to put before them that good is not always unaccompanied by evil nor evil by good. in the last two or three years of a girl's education all the time that can be spared may be most profitably spent on the study of modern history, since it is there that the more complex problems are found, and there also that they will understand how contemporary questions have their springs in the past, and see the rise of the forces which are at work now, disintegrating the nations of europe and shaking the foundations of every government. there are grave lessons to be learnt, not in gloomy or threatening forecasts but in showing the direction of cause and effect and the renewal of the same struggle which has been from the beginning, in ever fresh phases. the outcome of historical teaching to catholics can never be discouragement or depression, whatever the forecast. the past gives confidence, and, when the glories of bygone ages are weighed against their troubles, and the church's troubles now against her inward strength and her new horizons of hope, there is great reason for gratitude that we live in our own much-abused time. in every age the church has, with her roots in the past, some buds and blossoms in the present and some fruit coming on for the future. hailstorms may cut off both blossoms and fruit, but all will not be lost. we can always hold up our heads; there are buds on the fig-tree and we know in whom we have believed. in bringing home to children these grounds for thankfulness, the quality of one's own mind and views tells very strongly, and this leads to the consideration of what is chiefly required in teaching history to children, and to girls growing up. the first and most essential point is that we ourselves should care about what we teach, not that we should merely like history as a school subject, but that it should be real to us, that we should feel something about it, joy or triumph or indignation, things which are not found in text-books, and we should believe that it all matters very much to the children and to ourselves. lessons of the text-book type, facts, dates, summaries, and synopses matter very little to children, but people are of great importance, and if they grasp what often they only half believe, that what they are repeating as a mere lesson really took place among people who saw and felt it as vividly as they would themselves, then their sympathies and understanding are carried beyond the bounds of their school-rooms and respond to the touch of the great doings and sufferings of the race. it is above all in the history of the church that this sympathetic understanding becomes real. the interest of olden times in secular history is more dramatic and picturesque than real to children; but in the history of the church and especially of the personalities of the popes the continuity of her life is very keenly felt; the popes are all of to-day, they transcend the boundaries of their times because in a number of ways they did and had to do and bear the very same things that are done and have to be borne by the popes of our own day. if we give to girls some vivid realization, say, of the troubled pontificate of boniface viii, with the violence and tragedy and pathos in which it ended, after the dust and jarring and weariness of battle in which it was spent; if they have entered into something of the anguish of pius vii, they will more fully understand and feel deeper love and sympathy for the living, suffering successor now in the same chair, in another phase of the same conflict, with the gentiles and peoples of the rising democracies taking counsel together against him, as kings and rulers did in the past, all imagining the same "vain thing," that they can overcome christ and his vicar. besides this living sympathy with what we teach, we must be able to speak truth without being afraid of its consequences. there was at one time a fear in the minds of catholic teachers that by admitting that any of the popes had been unworthy of their charge, or that there had ever been abuses which called for reforms among clergy and religious and catholic laity, they would be giving away the case for the church and imperilling the faith and loyalty of children; that it was better they should only hear these things later, with the hope that they would never hear them at all. the real peril is in the course thus adopted. surrounded as we are by non-catholics, and in a time when no catholic escapes from questions and attacks, open or covert, upon what we believe, the greatest injustice to the girls themselves, and to the honour of the faith, was to send them out unarmed against what they must necessarily meet. the first challenge would be met with a flat denial of facts, loyal-heartedly and confidently given; then would come a suspicion that there might be something in it, the inquiry which would show that this was really the case; then a certain right indignation, "why was i not told the truth?" and a sense of insecurity vaguely disturbing the foundations which ought to be on immovable bed-rock. at the best, such an experience produces what builders call a "settlement," not dangerous to the fabric but unsightly in its consequences; it may, however, go much further, first to shake and then to loosen the whole spiritual building by the insinuation of doubt everywhere. it is impossible to forewarn children against all the charges which they may hear against the church, but two points well established in their minds will give them confidence. . that the evidence which is brought to light year after year from access to state papers and documents tells on the side of the church, as we say in england, of "the old religion," and not against it. books by non-catholics are more convincing than others in this matter, since they are free from the suspicion of partisanship; for instance, gairdner's "lollardy and the reformation" which disposes of many mythical monsters of protestant history. . that even if the facts were still more authentic to justify personal attacks on some of the popes, even if the abuses in the church had not been grossly exaggerated, even putting facts at their worst, granting all that is assumed, it tends to strengthen faith rather than to undermine it, for the existence of the church and the papacy as they are to-day is a wonder only enhanced by every proof that it ought to have perished long ago according to all human probability. with that confidence and assurance even our little girls may hold their heads high, with their faith and trust in the church quite unabashed, and wait for an answer if they cannot give it to others or to themselves at the moment. "we have no occasion to answer thee concerning this matter," said the three holy children to nabuchodonosor, and so may our own children say if they are hard pressed, "your charges do but confirm our faith, we have no occasion to answer." it is impossible to leave so great a subject as history without saying a word on the manner of teaching it (for in this a manner is needed rather than a method), when it is emancipated from the fetters of prescribed periods and programmes which attach it entirely to text-books. text-books are not useless but they are very hard to find, and many catholic text-books, much to be desired, are still unwritten, especially in england. america has made more effort in this direction than we. but the strength of historical teaching for children and girls at school lies in oral lessons, and of these it would seem that the most effective form is not the conversational lesson which is so valuable in other subjects, nor the formal lesson with "steps," but the form of a story for little ones; for older children the narrative leading up to a point of view, with conversational intervals, and encouragement for thoughtful questions, especially at the end of the lesson; and in the last years an informal kind of lecture, a transition from school-room methods to the style of formal lectures which maybe attended later. lessons in history are often spoiled by futile questions put in as it were for conscience' sake, to satisfy the obligation of questioning, or to rouse the flagging attention of a child, but this is too great a sacrifice. it is artistically a fault to jar the whole movement of a good narrative for the sake of running after one truant mind. it is also artistically wrong and jarring to go abruptly from the climax of a story, or narrative, or lecture which has stirred some deep thought or emotion, and call with a sudden change of tone for recapitulation, or summary, or discussion. silence is best; the greater lessons of history ought to transcend the limits of mere lessons, they are part of life, and they tell more upon the mind if they are dissociated from the harness and trappings of school work. written papers for younger students and essays for seniors are the best means of calling for their results, and of guiding the line of reading by which all oral teaching of history and study of text-books must be supplemented. when school-room education is finished what we may look for is that girls should be ready and inclined to take up some further study of history, by private reading or following lectures with intelligence, and that they should be able to express themselves clearly in writing, either in the form of notes, papers, or essays, so as to give an account of their work and their opinions to those who may direct these later studies. we may hope that what they have learned of european history will enable them to travel with understanding and appreciation, that places with a history will mean something to them, and that the great impression of a living past may set a deep mark upon them with its discipline of proportion that makes them personally so small and yet so great, small in proportion to all that has been, great in their inheritance from the whole past and in expectation of all that is yet to be. chapter xi. art. "give honour unto luke evangelist: for he it was (the aged legends say) who first taught art to fold her hands and pray. scarcely at once she dared to rend the mist of devious symbols: but soon having wist how sky-breadth and field-silence and this day are symbols also in some deeper way, she looked through these to god, and was god's priest. "and if, past noon, her toil began to irk, and she sought talismans, and turned in vain to soulless self-reflections of man's skill, yet now, in this the twilight, she might still kneel in the latter grass to pray again, ere the night cometh and she may not work." dante gabriel rossetti. when we consider how much of the direction of life depends upon the quality of our taste, upon right discernment in what we like and dislike, it is evident that few things can be more important in education than to direct this directing force, and both to learn and teach the taste for what is best as far as possible in all things. for in the matter of taste nothing is unimportant. taste influences us in every department of life, as our tastes are, so are we. the whole quality of our inner and outer life takes its tone from the things in which we find pleasure, from our standard of taste. if we are severe in our requirements, hard to please, and at least honest with ourselves, it will mean that a spur of continual dissatisfaction pricks us, in all we do, into habitual striving for an excellence which remains beyond our reach. but on the other hand we shall have to guard against that peevish fastidiousness which narrows itself down until it can see nothing but defects and faults, and loses the power of humbly and genuinely admiring. this passive dissatisfaction which attempts nothing of its own, and only finds fault with what is done by others, grows very fast if it is allowed to take hold, and produces a mental habit of merely destructive criticism or perpetual scolding. safe in attempting nothing itself, unassailable and self-righteous as a pharisee, this spirit can only pull down but not build up again. in children it is often the outcome of a little jealousy and want of personal courage; they can be helped to overcome it, but if it is allowed to grow up, dissatisfaction allied to pusillanimity are very difficult to correct. on the other hand, if we are amiably and cheerfully inclined to admire things in general in a popular way, easily pleased and not exacting, we shall both receive and give a great deal of pleasure, but it will be all in a second and third and fourth-rate order of delight, and although this comfortable turn of mind is saved from much that is painful and jarring, it is not exempt from the danger of itself jarring continually upon the feelings of others, of pandering to the downward tendency in what is popular, and, in education, of debasing the standard of taste and discrimination for children. to be swayed by popularity in matters of taste is to accept mediocrity wholesale. we have left too far behind the ages when the taste of the people could give sound and true judgment in matters of art; we have left them at a distance which can be measured by what lies between the greatest greek tragedies and contemporary popular plays. consternation is frequently expressed at seeing how theatres of every grade are crowded with children of all classes in life, so it is from these popular plays that they must be learning the first lessons of dramatic criticism. there are only rare instances of taste which is instinctively true, and the process of educational pressure tends to level down original thought in children, as the excess of magazine and newspaper reading works in the same direction for older minds, so that true, independent taste becomes more rare; the result does not seem favourable to the development of the best discernment in those who ought to sway the taste of their generation. if taste in art is entirely guided by that of others, and especially by fashion, it cannot attain to the possession of an independent point of view; yet this in a modest degree every one with some training might aspire to. but under the sway of fashion taste is cowed; it becomes conventional, and falls under the dominion of the current price of works of art. on the other hand it is more unfortunate to be self-taught in matters of taste than in any other order of things. in this point taste ranks with manners, which are, after all, a department of the same region of right feeling and discernment. if taste is untaught and spontaneous, it is generally unreliable and without consistency. if self-taught it can hardly help becoming dogmatic and oracular, as some highly gifted minds have become, making themselves the supreme court of appeal for their own day. but trained taste is grounded in reverence and discipleship, a lowly and firm basis for departure, from which it may, if it has the power to do or to discern, rise in its strength, and leave behind those who have shown the way, or soar in great flights beyond their view. so it has often been seen in the history of art, and such is the right order of growth. it needs the living voice and the attentive mind, the influence of trained and experienced judgment to guide us in the beginning, but the guide must let us go at last and we must rely upon ourselves. the bad effect of being either self-taught or conventional is exclusiveness; in one case the personal bias is too marked, in the other the temporary aspect appeals too strongly. in the education of taste it is needful that the child should "eat butter and honey," not only so as to refuse the evil and choose the good, but also to judge between good and good, and to know butter from honey and honey from butter. this is the principal end of the study of art in early education. the _doing_ is very elementary, but the principles of discernment are something for life, feeding the springs of choice and delight, and making sure that they shall run clear and untroubled. teaching concerning art which can be given to girls has to be approached with a sense of responsibility from conviction of the importance of its bearing on character as a whole. let anyone who has tried it pass in review a number of girls as they grow up, and judge whether their instinct in art does not give a key to their character, always supposing that they have some inclination to reflect on matters of beauty, for there are some who are candidly indifferent to beauty if they can have excitement. they have probably been spoiled as children and find it hard to recover. excitement has worn the senses so that their report grows dull and feeble. imagination runs on other lines and requires stimulants; there is no stillness of mind in which the perception of beauty and harmony and fitness can grow up. there are others--may they be few--in whose minds there is little room for anything but success. utilitarians in social life, their determination is to get on, and this spirit pervades all they do; it has the making of the hardest-grained worldliness: to these art has nothing to say. but there are others to whom it has a definite message, and their response to it corresponds to various schools or stages of art. there are some who are daring and explicit in their taste; they resent the curb, and rush into what is extravagant with a very feeble protest against it from within themselves. beside them are simpler minds, merely exuberant, for whom there can never be enough light or colour in their picture of life. if they are gifted with enough intelligence to steady their joyful constitution of mind, these will often develop a taste that is fine and true. in the background of the group are generally a few silent members of sensitive temperament and deeper intuition, who see with marvellous quickness, but see too much to be happy and content, almost too much to be true. they incline towards another extreme, an ideal so high-pitched as to become unreal, and it meets with the penalty of unreality in over-balancing itself. children nearly always pull to one side or the other; it is a work of long patience even to make them accept that there should be a golden mean. did they ever need it so much as they do now? probably each generation in turn, from solomon's time onward, has asked the same question. but in the modern world there can hardly have been a time in which the principle of moderation needed to be more sustained, for there has never been a time when circumstances made man more daring in face of the forces of nature, and this same daring in other directions, less beautiful, is apt to become defiant and unashamed of excess. it asserts itself most loudly in modern french art, but we are following close behind, less logical and with more remaining traditions of correctness, but influenced beyond what we like to own. in the education of girls, which is subject to so many limitations, very often short in itself, always too short for what would be desirable to attain, the best way to harmonize aesthetic teaching is not to treat it in different departments, but to centre all round the general history of art. this leaves in every stage the possibility of taking up particular branches of art study, whether historical, or technical, or practical, and these will find their right place, not dissociated from their antecedents and causes, not paramount but subordinate, and thus rightly proportioned and true in their relation to the whole progress of mankind in striving after beauty and the expression of it. the history of art in connexion with the general history of the human race is a complement to it, ministering to the understanding of what is most intimate, stamping the expression of the dominant emotion on the countenance of every succeeding age. this is what its art has left to us, a more confidential record than its annals and chronicles, and more accessible to the young, who can often understand feelings before they can take account of facts in their historical importance. in any case the facts are clothed in living forms there where belief and aspiration and feeling have expressed themselves in works of art. if we value for children the whole impression of the centuries, especially in european history, more than the mere record of changes, the history of art will allow them to apprehend it almost as the biographies of great persons who have set their signature upon the age in which they lived. as each of the fine arts has its own history which moves along divergent or parallel lines in different countries and periods, and as each development or check is bound up with the history of the country or period and bears its impress, the interpretation of one is assisted and enriched by the other, and both are linked together to illuminate the truth. it is only necessary to consider the position of christian art in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, and the changes wrought by the renaissance, to estimate the value of some knowledge of it in giving to children a right understanding of those times and of what they have left to the world. again, the inferences to be drawn from the varied developments of gothic architecture in france, spain, and england are roads indicated to what is possible to explore in later studies, both in history and in art. and so the schools of painting studied in their history make ready the way for closer study in after years. pugin's "book of contrasts" is an illustration full of suggestive power as to the service which may be rendered in teaching by comparing the art of one century with that of another, as expressive of the spirit of each period, and a means of reading below the surface. without pugin's bitterness the same method of contrast has been used most effectively to put before children by means of lantern slides and lectures the manner in which art renders truth according to the various ideals and convictions of the artists. it is a lesson in itself, a lesson in faith, in devotion, as well as in art and in the history of man's mind, to show in succession, or even side by side, though the shock is painful, works of art in which the christian mysteries are rendered in an age of faith or in one of unbelief. they can see in the great works of catholic art how faith exults in setting them forth, with undoubting assurance, with a theological grasp of their bearings and conclusions, with plenitude of conviction and devotion that has no afterthoughts; and in contrasting with these the strained efforts to represent the same subjects without the illumination of theology they will learn to measure the distance downwards in art from faith to unbelief. the conclusions may carry them further, to judge from the most modern paintings of the tone of mind of their own time, of its impatience and restlessness and want of hope. let them compare the patient finish, the complete thought given to every detail in the works of the greatest painters, the accumulated light and depth, the abounding life, with the hasty, jagged, contemporary manner of painting, straining into harshness from want of patience, tense and angular from want of real vitality, exhausted from the absence of inward repose. they will comment for themselves upon the pessimism to which so many surrender themselves, taking with them their religious art, with its feeble madonnas and haggard saints, without hope or courage or help, painted out of the abundance of their own heart's sadness. this contrast carries much teaching to the children of to-day if they can understand it, for each one who sets value upon faith and hope and resolution and courage in art is a unit adding strength to the line of defence against the invasions of sadness and dejection of spirit. these considerations belong to the moral and spiritual value of the study of art, in the early years of an education intended to be general. they are of primary importance although in themselves only indirect results of the study. as to its direct results, it may be said in general that two things must be aimed at during the years of school life, appreciation of the beautiful in the whole realm of art, and some very elementary execution in one or other branch, some doing or making according to the gift of each one. the work on both sides is and can be only preparation, only the establishment of principles and the laying of foundations; if anything further is attempted during school life it is apt to throw the rest of the education out of proportion, for in nothing whatever can a girl leaving the school-room be looked upon as having finished. it is a great deal if she is well-grounded and ready to begin. even the very branches of study to which a disproportioned space has been allowed will suffer the penalty of it later on, for the narrow basis of incomplete foundations tends to make an ill-balanced superstructure which cannot bear the stress of effort required for perfection without falling into eccentricity or wearing itself out. both misfortunes have been seen before now when infant prodigies have been allowed to grow on one side only. restraint and control and general building up tend to strengthen even the talent which has apparently to be checked, by giving it space and equilibrium and the power of repose. even if art should be their profession or their life-work in any form, the sacrifices made for general education will be compensated in the mental and moral balance of their work. if general principles of art have been kept before the minds of children, and the history of art has given them some true ideas of its evolution, they are ready to learn the technique and practice of any branch to which they may be attracted. but as music and painting are more within their reach than other arts, it is reasonable that they should be provided for in the education of every child, so that each should have at least the offer and invitation of an entrance into those worlds, and latent talents be given the opportunity of declaring themselves. poetry has its place apart, or rather it has two places, its own in the field of literature, and another, as an inspiration pervading all the domain of the fine arts, allied with music by a natural affinity, connected with painting on the side of imagination, related in one way or another to all that is expressive of the beautiful. children will feel its influence before they can account for it, and it is well that they should do so--to feel it is in the direction of refusing the evil and choosing the good. music is coming into a more important place among educational influences now that the old superstition of making every child play the piano is passing away. it was an injustice both to the right reason of a child and to the honour of music when it was forced upon those who were unwilling and unfit to attain any degree of excellence in it. we are renouncing these superstitions and turning to something more widely possible--to cultivate the audience and teach them to listen with intelligence to that which without instruction is scarcely more than pleasant noise, or at best the expression of emotion. the intellectual aspect of music is beginning to be brought forward in teaching children, and with this awakening the whole effect of music in education is indefinitely raised. it has scarcely had time to tell yet, but as it extends more widely and makes its way through the whole of our educational system it may be hoped that the old complaints, too well founded, against the indifference and carelessness of english audiences, will be heard no more. we shall never attain to the kind of religious awe which falls upon a german audience, or to its moods of emotion, but we may reach some means of expression which the national character does not forbid, showing at least that we understand, even though we must not admit that we feel. it is impossible to suggest what may be attained by girls of exceptional talent, but in practice if the average child-students, with fair musical ability, can at the end of their school course read and sing at sight fairly easy music, and have a good beginning of intelligent playing on one or two instruments, they will have brought their foundations in musical practice up to the level of their general education. if with some help they can understand the structure of a great musical work, and perhaps by themselves analyse an easy sonata, they will be in a position to appreciate the best of what they will hear afterwards, and if they have learnt something of the history of music and of the works of the great composers, their musical education will have gone as far as proportion allows before they are grown up. some notions of harmony, enough to harmonize by the most elementary methods a simple melody, will be of the greatest service to those whose music has any future in it. catholic girls have a right and even a duty to learn something of the church's own music; and in this also there are two things to be learnt--appreciation and execution. and amongst the practical applications of the art of music to life there is nothing more honourable than the acquired knowledge of ecclesiastical music to be used in the service of the church. when the love and understanding of its spirit are acquired the diffusion of a right tone in church music is a means of doing good, as true and as much within the reach of many girls as the spread of good literature; and in a small and indirect way it allows them the privilege of ministering to the beauty of catholic worship and devotion. the scope of drawing and painting in early education has been most ably treated of in many general and special works, and does not concern us here except in so far as it is connected with the training of taste in art which is of more importance to catholics than to others, as has been considered above, in its relation to the springs of spiritual life, to faith and devotion, and also in so far as taste in art serves to strengthen or to undermine the principles on which conduct is based. we have to brace our children's wills to face restraint, to know that they cannot cast themselves at random and adrift in the pursuit of art, that their ideals must be more severe than those of others, and that they have less excuse than others if they allow these ideals to be debased. they ought to learn to be proud of this restraint, not to believe themselves thwarted or feel themselves galled by it, but to understand that it stands for a higher freedom by the side of which ease and unrestraint are more like servitude than liberty; it stands for the power to refuse the evil and choose the good; it stands for intellectual and moral freedom of choice, holding in check the impulse and inclination that are prompted from within and invited from without to escape from control. the best teaching in this is to show what is best, and to give the principles by which it is to be judged. to talk of what is bad, or less good, even by way of warning, is less persuasive and calculated even to do harm to girls whose temper of mind is often "quite contrary." warnings are wearisome to them, and when they refer to remote dangers, partly guessed at, mostly unknown, they even excite the spirit of adventure to go and find out for themselves, just as in childhood repeated warnings and threats of the nursery-maids and maiden aunts are the very things which set the spirit of enterprise off on the voyage of discovery, a fact which the head nurse and the mother have found out long ago, and so have learnt to refrain from these attractive advertisements of danger. so it is with teachers. we learn by experience that a trumpet blast of warning wakes the echoes at first and rouses all that is to be roused, but also that if it is often repeated it dulls the ear and calls forth no response at all. quiet positive teaching convinces children; to show them the best things attracts them, and once their true allegiance is given to the best, they have more security within themselves than in many danger signals set up for their safety. what is most persuasive of all is a whole-hearted love for real truth and beauty in those who teach them. their own glow of enthusiasm is caught, light from light, and taste from taste, and ideal from ideal; warning may be lost sight of, but this is living spirit and will last. what children can accomplish by the excellent methods of teaching drawing and painting which are coming into use now, it is difficult to say. talent as well as circumstances and conditions of education differ very widely in this. but as preparation for intelligent appreciation they should acquire some elementary principles of criticism, and some knowledge of the history and of the different schools of painting, indications of what to look for here and there in europe and likewise of how to look at it; this is what they can take with them as a foundation, and in some degree all can acquire enough to continue their own education according to their opportunities. matter-of-fact minds can learn enough not to be intolerable, the average enough to guide and safeguard their taste. they are important, for they will be in general the multitude, the public, whose judgment is of consequence by its weight of numbers; they will by their demand make art go upwards or downwards according to their pleasure. for the few, the precious few who are chosen and gifted to have a more definite influence, all the love they can acquire in their early years for the best in art will attach them for life to what is sane and true and lovely and of good fame. the foundations of all this lie very deep in human nature, and taste will be consistent with itself throughout the whole of life. it manifests itself in early sensitiveness and responsiveness to artistic beauty. it determines the choice in what to love as well as what to like. it will assert itself in friendship, and estrangement in matters of taste is often the first indication of a divergence in ideals which continues and grows more marked until at some crossroads one takes the higher path and the other the lower and their ways never meet again. that higher path, the disinterested love of beauty, calls for much sacrifice; it must seek its pleasure on ly in the highest, and not look for a first taste of delight, but a second, when the power of criticism has been schooled by a kind of asceticism to detect the choice from the vulgar and the true from the insincere. this spirit of sacrifice must enter into every form of training for life, but above all into the training of the catholic mind. it has a wide range and asks much of its disciples, a certain renunciation and self-restraint in all things which never completely lets itself go. catholic art bears witness to this: "where a man seeks himself there he falls from love," says a kempis, and this is proved not only in the love of god, but in what makes the glory of christian art, the love of beauty and truth in the service of faith. chapter xii. manners. "manners are the happy ways of doing things; each--once--a stroke of genius or of love, now repeated and hardened into usage."--emerson. the late queen victoria had a profound sense of the importance of manners and of certain conventionalities, and the singular gift of common sense, which stood for so much in her, stands also for the significance of those things on which she laid so much stress. conventionality has a bad name at present, and manners are on the decline, this is a fact quite undisputed. as to conventionalities it is assumed that they represent an artificial and hollow code, from the pressure of which all, and especially the young, should be emancipated. and it may well be that there is something to be said in favour of modifying them--in fact it must be so, for all human things need at times to be revised and readapted to special and local conditions. to attempt to enforce the same code of conventions on human society in different countries, or at different stages of development, is necessarily artificial, and if pressed too far it provokes reaction, and in reaction we almost inevitably go to extreme lengths. so in reaction against too rigid conventionalities and a social ritual which was perhaps over-exacting, we are swinging out beyond control in the direction of complete spontaneity. and yet there is need for a code of conventions--for some established defence against the instincts of selfishness which find their way back by a short cut to barbarism if they are not kept in check. civilized selfishness leads to a worse kind of barbarism than that of rude and primitive states of society, because it has more resources at its command, as cruelty with refinement has more resources for inflicting pain than cruelty which can only strike hard. civilized selfishness is worse also in that it has let go of better things; it is not in progress towards a higher plane of life, but has turned its back upon ideals and is slipping on the down-grade without a check. we can see the complete expression of life without conventions in the unrestraint of "hooliganism" with us, and its equivalents in other countries. in this we observe the characteristic product of bringing up without either religion, or conventions, or teaching in good manners which are inseparable from religion. we see the demoralization of the very forces which make both the strength and the weakness of youth and a great part of its charm, the impetuosity, the fearlessness of consequence, the lightheartedness, the exuberance which would have been so strong for good if rightly turned, become through want of this right impetus and control not strong but violent, uncontrollable and reckless to a degree which terrifies the very authorities who are responsible for them, in that system which is bringing up children with nothing to hold by, and nothing to which they can appeal. girls are inclined to go even further than boys in this unrestraint through their greater excitability and recklessness, and their having less instinct of self-preservation. it is a problem for the local authorities. their lavish expenditure upon sanitation, adornment, and--to use the favourite word--"equipment" of their schools does not seem to touch it; in fact it cannot reach the real difficulty, for it makes appeal to the senses and neglects the soul, and the souls of children are hungry for faith and love and something higher to look for, beyond the well-being of to-day in the schools, and the struggle for life, in the streets, to-morrow. it is not only in the elementary schools that such types of formidable selfishness are produced. in any class of life, in school or home, wherever a child is growing up without control and "handling," without the discipline of religion and manners, without the yoke of obligations enforcing respect and consideration for others, there a rough is being brought up, not so loud-voiced or so uncouth as the street-rough, but as much out of tune with goodness and honour, with as little to hold by and appeal to, as troublesome and dangerous either at home or in society, as uncertain and unreliable in a party or a ministry, and in any association that makes demand upon self-control in the name of duty. this is very generally recognized and deplored, but except within the church, which has kept the key to these questions, the remedy is hard to find. inspectors of elementary schools have been heard to say that, even in districts where the catholic school was composed of the poorest and roughest elements, the manners were better than those of the well-to-do children in the neighbouring council schools. they could not account for it, but we can; the precious hour of religious teaching for which we have had to fight so hard, influences the whole day and helps to create the "catholic atmosphere" which in its own way tells perhaps more widely than the teaching. faith tells of the presence of god and this underlies the rest, while the sense of friendly protection, the love of our lady, the angels, and saints, the love of the priest who administers all that catholic children most value, who blesses and absolves them in god's name, all these carry them out of what is wretched and depressing in their surroundings to a different world in which they give and receive love and respect as children of god. no wonder their manners are gentler and their intercourse more disposed to friendliness, there is something to appeal to and uphold, something to love. the protestant reformation breaking up these relations and all the ceremonial observance in which they found expression, necessarily produced deterioration of manners. as soon as anyone, especially a child, becomes--not rightly but aggressively--independent, argumentatively preoccupied in asserting that "i am as good as you are, and i can do without you"--he falls from the right proportion of things, becomes less instead of greater, because he stands alone, and from this to warfare against all order and control the step is short. so it has proved. the principles of protestantism worked out to the principles of the revolution, and to their natural outcome, seen at its worst in the reign of terror and the commune of in paris. again the influence of the church on manners was dominant in the age of chivalry. at that time religion and manners were known to be inseparable, and it was the church that handled the rough vigour of her sons to make them gentle as knights. this is so well known that it needs no more than calling to mind, and, turning attention to the fact that all the handling was fundamental, it is handling that makes manners. even the derivation of the word does not let us forget this--_manners_ from _manieres_, from _manier_, from _main_, from _manus_, the touch of the human hand upon the art of living worthily in human society, without offence and without contention, with the gentleness of a race, the _gens_, that owns a common origin, the urbanity of those who have learned to dwell in a city "compact together," the respect of those who have some one to look to for approval and control, either above them in dignity, or beneath them in strength, and therefore to be considered with due reverence. the handling began early in days of chivalry, no time was lost, because there would necessarily be checks on the way. knighthood was far off, but it could not be caught sight of too early as an ideal, and it was characteristic of the consideration of the church that, in the scheme of manners over which she held sway, the first training of her knights was intrusted to women. for women set the standard of manners in every age, if a child has not learnt by seven years old how to behave towards them it is scarcely possible for him to learn it at all, and it is by women only that it can be taught. the little _damoiseaux_ would have perfect and accomplished manners for their age when they left the apartments of the ladies at seven years old; it was a matter of course that they would fall off a good deal in their next stage. they would become "pert," as pages were supposed to be, and diffident as esquires, but as knights they would come back of themselves to the perfect ways of their childhood with a grace that became well the strength and self-possession of their knighthood. we have no longer the same formal and ceremonial training; it is not possible in our own times under the altered conditions of life, yet it commands attention for those who have at heart the future well-being of the boys and girls of to-day. the fundamental facts upon which manners are grounded remain the same. these are, some of them, worth consideration:-- . that manners represent a great deal more than mere social observances; they stand as the outward expression of some of the deepest springs of conduct, and none of the modern magic of philanthropy-- altruism, culture, the freedom and good-fellowship of democracy, replaces them, because, in their spirit, manners belong to religion. . that manners are a matter of individual training, so that they could never be learnt from a book. they can scarcely be taught, except in their simplest elements, to a class or school as a whole, but the authority which stands nearest in responsibility to each child, either in the home circle or at school, has to make a special study of it in order to teach it manners. the reason of this is evident. in each nature selfishness crops out on one side rather than another, and it is this which has to be studied, that the forward may be repressed, the shy or indolent stimulated, the dreamy quickened into attention, and all the other defective sides recognized and taken, literally, _in hand_, to be modelled to a better form. . that training in manners is not a short course but a long course of study, a work of patience on both sides, of gentle and most insistent handling on one side and of long endurance on the other. there are a very few exquisite natures with whom the grace of manners seems to be inborn. they are not very vigorous, not physically robust; their own sensitiveness serves as a private tutor or monitor to tell them at the right moment what others feel, and what they should say or do. they have a great gift, but they lay down their price for it, and suffer for others as well as in themselves more than their share. but in general, the average boy and girl needs a "daily exercise" which in most cases amounts to "nagging," and in the best hands is only saved from nagging by its absence of peevishness, and the patience with which it reminds and urges and teases into perfect observance. the teasing thing, and yet the most necessary one, is the constant check upon the preoccupying interests of children, so that in presence of their elders they can never completely let themselves go, but have to be attentive to every service of consideration or mark of respect that occasion calls for. it is very wearisome, but when it has been acquired through laborious years--there it is, like a special sense superadded to the ordinary endowments of nature, giving presence of mind and self-possession, arming the whole being against surprise or awkwardness or indiscretion, and controlling what has so long appeared to exercise control over it--the conditions of social intercourse. how shall we persuade the children of to-day that manners and conventions have not come to an end as part of the old regime which appears to them an elaborate unreality v it is exceedingly difficult to do so, at school especially, as in many cases their whole family consents to regard them as extinct, and only when startled at the over-growth of their girls' unmannerly roughness and self-assertion they send them to school "to have their manners attended to"; but then it is too late. the only way to form manners is to teach them from the beginning as a part of religion, as indeed they are. devotion to our lady will give to the manners both of boys and girls something which stamps them as christian and catholic, something above the world's level. and, as has been so often pointed out, the church's ritual is the court ceremonial of the most perfect manners, in which every least detail has its significance, and applies some principle of inward faith and devotion to outward service. if we could get to the root of all that the older codes of manners required, and even the conventionalities of modern life--these remnants, in so far as they are based on the older codes--it would be found that, as in the church's ceremonial, not one of them was without its meaning, but that all represented some principle of christian conduct, even if they have developed into expressions which seem trivial. human things tend to exaggeration and to "sport," as gardeners say, from their type into strange varieties, and so the manners which were the outcome of chivalry--exquisite, idealized, and restrained in their best period, grew artificial in later times and elaborated themselves into an etiquette which grew tyrannical and even ridiculous, and added violence to the inevitable reaction which followed. but if we look beyond the outward form to the spirit of such prescriptions as are left in force, there is something noble in their origin, either the laws of hospitality regulating all the relations of host and guest, or reverence for innocence and weakness which surrounded the dignity of both with lines of chivalrous defence, or the sensitiveness of personal honour, the instinct of what was due to oneself, an inward law that compelled a line of conduct that was unselfish and honourable. so the relics of these lofty conventions are deserving of all respect, and they cannot be disregarded without tampering with foundations which it is not safe to touch. they are falling into disrepute, but for the love of the children let us maintain them as far as we can. the experience of past ages has laid up lessons for us, and if we can take them in let us do so, if only as a training for children in self-control, for which they will find other uses a few years hence. but in doing this we must take account of all that has changed. there are some antique forms, beautiful and full of dignity, which it is useless to attempt to revive; they cannot live again, they are too massive for our mobile manner of life to-day. and on the other hand there are some which are too high-pitched, or too delicate. we are living in a democratic age, and must be able to stand against its stress. so in the education of girls a greater measure of independence must necessarily be given to them, and they must learn to use it, to become self-reliant and self-protecting. they have to grow more conscious, less trustful, a little harder in outline; one kind of young dignity has to be exchanged for another, an attitude of self-defence is necessary. there is perhaps a certain loss in it, but it is inevitable. the real misfortune is that the first line of defence is often surrendered before the second is ready, and a sudden relaxation of control tends to yield too much; in fact girls are apt to lose their heads and abandon their self-control further than they are able to resume it. once they have "let themselves go"--it is the favourite phrase, and for once a phrase that completely conveys its meaning--it is exceedingly difficult for them to stop themselves, impossible for others to stop them by force, for the daring ones are quite ready to break with their friends, and the others can elude control with very little difficulty. the only security is a complete armour of self-control based on faith, and a home tie which is a guarantee for happiness. girls who are not happy in their own homes live in an atmosphere of temptation which they can scarcely resist, and the happiness of home is dependent in a great measure upon the manners of home, "there is no surer dissolvant of home affections than discourtesy." [ --d. urquhart.] it is useless to insist on this, it is known and admitted by almost all, but the remedy or the preventive is hard to apply, demanding such constant self-sacrifice on the part of parents that all are not ready to practise it; it is so much easier and it looks at first sight so kind to let children have their way. so kind at first, so unselfish in appearance, the parents giving way, abdicating their authority, while the young democracy in the nursery or school-room takes the reins in hand so willingly, makes the laws, or rather rules without them, by its sovereign moods, and then outgrows the "establishment" altogether, requires more scope, snaps the link with home, scarcely regretting, and goes off on its own account to elbow its way in the world. it is obviously necessary and perhaps desirable that many girls should have to make their own way in the world who would formerly have lived at home, but often the way in which it is done is all wrong, and leaves behind on both sides recollections with a touch of soreness. for those who are practically concerned with the education of girls the question is how to attain what we want for them, while the force of the current is set so strongly against us. we have to make up our minds as to what conventions can survive and fix in some way the high and low-water marks, for there must be both, the highest that we can attain, and the lowest that we can accept. all material is not alike; some cannot take polish at all. it is well if it can be made tolerable; if it does not fall below that level of manners which are at least the safeguard of conduct; if it can impose upon itself and accept at least so much restraint as to make it inoffensive, not aggressively selfish. perhaps the low-water mark might be fixed at the remembrance that other people have rights and the observance of their claims. this would secure at least the common marks of respect and the necessary conventionalities of intercourse. for ordinary use the high-water mark might attain to the remembrance that other people have feelings, and to taking them into account, and as an ordinary guide of conduct this includes a great deal and requires training and watchfulness to establish it, even where there is no exceptional selfishness or bluntness of sense to be overcome. the nature of an ordinary healthy energetic child, high-spirited and boisterous, full of a hundred interests of its own, finds the mere attention to these things a heavy yoke, and the constant self-denial needed to carry them out is a laborious work indeed. the slow process of polishing marble has more than one point of resemblance with the training of manners; it is satisfactory to think that the resemblance goes further than the process, that as only by polishing can the concealed beauties of the marble be brought out, so only in the perfecting of manners will the finer grain of character and feeling be revealed. polishing is a process which may reach different degrees of brilliancy according to the material on which it is performed; and so in the teaching of manners a great deal depends upon the quality of the nature, and the amount of expression which it is capable of acquiring. it is useless to press for what cannot be given, at the same time it is unfair not to exact the best that every one is able to give. as in all that has to do with character, example is better than precept. but in the matter of manners example alone is by no means enough; precept is formally necessary, and precept has to be enforced by exercise. it is necessary because the origin of established conventionalities is remote; they do not speak for themselves, they are the outcome of a general habit of thought, they have come into being through a long succession of precedents. we cannot explain them fully to children; they can only have the summary and results of them, and these are dry and grinding, opposed to the unpremeditated spontaneous ways of acting in which they delight. manners are almost fatally opposed to the sudden happy thoughts of doing something original, which occur to children's minds. no wonder they dislike them; we must be prepared for this. they are almost grown up before they can understand the value of what they have gone through in acquiring these habits of unselfishness, but unlike many other subjects to which they are obliged to give time and labour, they will not leave this behind in the schoolroom. it is then that they will begin to exercise with ease and precision of long practice the art of the best and most expressive conduct in every situation which their circumstances may create. in connexion with this question of circumstances in life and the situations which arise out of them, there is one thing which ought to be taught to children as a fundamental principle, and that is the relation of manners to class of life, and what is meant by vulgarity. for vulgarity is not--what it is too often assumed to be--a matter of class, but in itself a matter of insincerity, the effort to appear or to be something that one is not. the contrary of vulgarity, by the word, is preciousness or distinction, and in conduct or act it is the perfect preciousness and distinction of truthfulness. truthfulness in manners gives distinction and dignity in all classes of society; truthfulness gives that simplicity of manners which is one of the special graces of royalty, and also of an unspoiled and especially a catholic peasantry. vulgarity has an element of restless unreality and pretentious striving, an affectation or assumption of ways which do not belong to it, and in particular an unwillingness to serve, and a dread of owning any obligation of service. yet service perfects manners and dignity, from the highest to the lowest, and the manners of perfect servants either public or private are models of dignity and fitness. the manners of the best servants often put to shame those of their employers, for their self-possession and complete knowledge of what they are and ought to be raises them above the unquietness of those who have a suspicion that they are not quite what might be expected of them. it is on this uncertain ground that all the blunders of manners occur; when simplicity is lost disaster follows, with loss of dignity and self-respect, and pretentiousness forces its way through to claim the respect which it is conscious of not deserving. truth, then, is the foundation of distinction in manners for every class, and the manners of children are beautiful and perfect when simplicity bears witness to inward truthfulness and consideration for others, when it expresses modesty as to themselves and kindness of heart towards every one. it does not require much display or much ceremonial for their manners to be perfect according to the requirements of life at present; the ritual of society is a variable thing, sometimes very exacting, at others disposed to every concession, but these things do not vary--truth, modesty, reverence, kindness are of all times, and these are the bases of our teaching. the personal contribution of those who teach, the influence of their companionship is that which establishes the standard, their patience is the measure which determines the limits of attainment, for it is only patience which makes a perfect work, whether the attainment be high or low. it takes more patience to bring poor material up to a presentable standard than to direct the quick intuitions of those who are more responsive; in one case efforts meet with resistance, in the other, generally with correspondence. but our own practice is for ourselves the important thing, for the inward standard is the point of departure, and our own sincerity is a light as well as a rule, or rather it is a rule because it is a light; it prevents the standard of manners from being double, one for use and one for ornament; it imposes respect to be observed with children as well as exacted from them, and it keeps up the consciousness that manners represent faith and, in a sense, duty to god rather than to one's neighbour. this, too, belongs not to the fleeting things of social observance but to the deep springs of conduct, and its teaching may be summed up in one question. is not well-instructed devotion to our lady and the understanding of the church's ceremonies a school of manners in which we may learn how human intercourse may be carried on with the most perfect external expressiveness? is not all inattention of mind to the courtesies of life, all roughness and slovenliness, all crude unconventionality which is proud of its self-assertion, a "falling from love" in seeking self? will not the instinct of devotion and imitation teach within, all those things which must otherwise be learned by painful reiteration from without; the perpetual _give up, give way, give thanks, make a fitting answer, pause, think of others, don't get excited, wait, serve_, which require watchfulness and self-sacrifice? perhaps in the last year or two of education, when our best opportunities occur, some insight will be gained into the deeper meaning of all these things. it may then be understood that they are something more than arbitrary rules; there may come the understanding of what is beautiful in human intercourse, of the excellence of self-restraint, the loveliness of perfect service. if this can be seen it will tone down all that is too uncontrolled and make self-restraint acceptable, and will deal with the conventions of life as with symbols, poor and inarticulate indeed, but profoundly significant, of things as they ought to be. chapter xiii. higher education op women. "in die erd' isi's aufgenommen, glucklich ist die form gefullt; wird's auch schon zu tage kommen, dass es fleiss und kunst vergilt? wenn der guss misslang? wenn die form zersprang? ach, vielleicht, indem wir hoffen, hat uns unheil schon getroffen." schiller, "das lied von der gloeke." so far in these pages the education of girls has only been considered up to the age of eighteen or so, that is to the end of the ordinary school-room course. at eighteen, some say that it is just time to go to school, and others consider that it is more than time to leave it. they look at life from different points of view. some are eager to experience everything for themselves, and as early as possible to snatch at this good thing, life, which is theirs, and make what they can of it, believing that its only interest is in what lies beyond the bounds of childhood and a life of regulated studies; they want to begin to _live_. others feel that life is such a good thing that every year of longer preparation fits them better to make the most of its opportunities, and others again are anxious--for a particular purpose, sometimes, and very rarely for the disinterested love of it--to undertake a course of more advanced studies and take active part in the movement "for the higher education of women." the first will advance as far as possible the date of their coming out; the second will delay it as long as they are allowed, to give themselves in quiet to the studies and thought which grow in value to them month by month; the third, energetic and decided, buckle on their armour and enter themselves at universities for degrees or certificates according to the facilities offered. there can be no doubt that important changes were necessary in the education of women. about the middle of the last century it had reached a condition of stagnation from the passing away of the old system of instruction before anything was ready to take its place. with very few exceptions, and those depended entirely on the families from which they carae, girls were scarcely educated at all. the old system had given them few things but these were of value; manners, languages, a little music and domestic training would include it all, with perhaps a few notions of "the use of the globes" and arithmetic. but when it dwindled into a book called "hangnail's questions," and manners declined into primness, and domestic training lost its vigour, then artificiality laid hold of it and lethargy followed, and there was no more education for "young ladies." in a characteristically english way it was individual effort which came to change the face of things, and honour is due to the pioneers who went first, facing opposition and believing in the possibilities of better things. in some other countries the state would have taken the initiative and has done so, but we have our own ways of working out things, "l'aveugle et tatonnante infaillibilite de l'angleterre," as some one has called it, in which the individual goes first, and makes trial of the land, and often experiences failure in the first attempts. from the closing years of the eighteenth century, when the "vindication of the rights of women" was published by mary wollstonecraft, the question has been more or less in agitation. but in , with the opening of queen's college in london, it took its first decided step forward in the direction of provision for the higher education of women, and in literature it was much in the air. tennyson's "princess" came in , and "aurora leigh" from elizabeth barrett browning in , and things moved onward with increasing rapidity until at one moment it seemed like a rush to new goldfields. one university after another has granted degrees to women or degree certificates in place of the degrees which were refused; women are resident students at some universities and at others present themselves on equal terms with men for examination. the way has been opened to them in some professions and in many spheres of activity from which they had been formerly excluded. one advantage of the english mode of proceeding in these great questions is that the situation can be reconsidered from time to time without the discordant contentions which surround any proclamation of non-success in state concerns. we feel our way and try this and that, and readjust ourselves, and a great deal of experimental knowledge has been gained before any great interests or the prestige of the state have been involved. these questions which affect a whole people directly or indirectly require, for us at least, a great deal of experimenting before we know what suits us. we are not very amenable to systems, or theories, or ready-made schemes. and the phenomenon of tides is very marked in all that we undertake. there is a period of advance and then a pause and a period of decline, and after another pause the tide rises again. it may perhaps be accounted for in part by the very fact that we do so much for ourselves in england, and look askance at anything which curtails the freedom of our movements, when we are in earnest about a question; but this independence is rapidly diminishing under the more elaborate administration of recent years, and the increase of state control in education. whatever may be the effect of this in the future, it seems as if there were at present a moment of reconsideration as to whether we have been quite on the right track in the pursuit of higher education for women, and a certain discontent with what has been achieved so far. there are at all events not many who are cordially pleased with the results. some dissatisfaction is felt as to the position of the girl students in residence at the universities. they cannot share in any true sense in the life of the universities, but only exist on their outskirts, outside the tradition of the past, a modern growth tolerated rather than fostered or valued by the authorities. this creates a position scarcely enviable in itself, or likely to communicate that particular tone which is the gift of the oldest english universities to their sons. some girl students have undoubtedly distinguished themselves, especially at cambridge; in the line of studies they attained what they sought, but that particular gift of the university they could not attain. it is lamented that the number of really disinterested students attending girton and newnham is small; the same complaint is heard from the halls for women at oxford; there is a certain want of confidence as to the future and what it is all leading to. to women with a professional career before them the degree certificates are of value, but the course of studies itself and its mental effect is conceded by many to be disappointing. one reason may be that the characteristics of girls' work affect in a way the whole movement. they are very eager and impetuous students, but in general the staying power is short; an excessive energy is put out in one direction, then it flags, and a new beginning is made towards another quarter. so in this general movement there have been successive stages of activity. the higher education movement has gone on its own course. the first pioneers had clear and noble ideals; bedford college, the growth of cheltenham, the beginnings of newnham and girton colleges, the north of england ladies' "council of education" represented them. now that the movement has left the port and gone beyond what they foresaw, it has met the difficulties of the open sea. nursing was another sphere opened about the same time, to meet the urgent needs felt during the crimean war; it was admirably planned out by florence nightingale, again a pioneer with loftiest ideals. there followed a rush for that opening; it has continued, and now the same complaint is made that it is an outlet for those whose lives are not to their liking at home, rather than those who are conscious of a special fitness for it or recognized as having the particular qualities which it calls for. and then came the development of a new variety among the unemployed of the wealthier classes, the "athletic girl." not every one could aspire to be an athletic girl, it requires some means, and much time; but it is there, and it is part of the emancipation movement. the latest in the field are the movements towards organization of effort, association on the lines of the german _frauenbund_, and the french _mouvement feministe_, and beside them, around them, with or without them, the women's suffrage movement, militant or non-militant. these are of the rising tide, and each tide makes a difference to our coast-line, in some places the sea gains, in others the land, and so the thinkers, for and against, register their victories and defeats, and the face of things continues to change more and more rapidly. it seems an ungracious task, unfair--perhaps it seems above all retrograde and ignorant--to express doubt and not to think hopefully of a cause in which so many lives have been spent with singular disinterestedness and self-devotion. yet these adverse thoughts are in the air, not only amongst those who are unable to win in the race, but amongst those who have won, and also amongst those who look out upon it all with undistracted and unbiassed interest; older men, who look to the end and outcome of things, to the ultimate direction when the forces have adjusted themselves. those who think of the next generation are not quite satisfied with what is being done for our girls or by them. catholics have been spurred hotly into the movement by those who are keenly anxious that we should not be left behind, but should show ourselves able to be with the best in all these things. perhaps at the stage which has been reached we have more reason than others to be dissatisfied with the results of success, since we are more beset than others by the haunting question--_what then_? for those who have to devote themselves to the cause of catholic education it is often and increasingly necessary to win degrees or their equivalents, not altogether for their own value, but as the key that fits the lock, for the gates to the domain of education are kept locked by the state. and so in other spheres of catholic usefulness the key may become more and more necessary. but--may it be suggested--in their own education, a degree for a man and a degree for a girl mean very different things, even if the degree is the same. for a girl it is the certificate of a course of studies. for a man an oxford or cambridge degree means atmosphere unique in character, immemorial tradition, association, all kinds of interests and subtle influences out of the past, the impressiveness of numbers, among which the individual shows in very modest proportions indeed whatever may be his gifts. the difference is that of two worlds. bat even at other universities the degree means more to a man if it is anything beyond a mere gate-key. it is his initial effort, after which comes the full stress of his life's work. for a girl, except in the rarest cases, it is either a gate-key or a final effort, either her life's work takes a different turn, or she thinks she has had enough. the line of common studies is adapted for man's work and programme of life. it has been made to fit woman's professional work, but the fit is not perfect. it has a marked unfitness in its adaptation for women to the real end of higher education, or university education, which is the perfecting of the individual mind, according to its kind, in surroundings favourable to its complete development. atmosphere is a most important element at all periods of education, and in the education of girls all-important, and an atmosphere for the higher education of girls has not yet been created in the universities. the girl students are few, their position is not unassailable, their aims not very well defined, and the thing which is above all required for the intellectual development of girls--quiet of mind--is not assured. it is obvious that there can never be great tradition and a past to look back to, unless there is a present, and a beginning, and a long period of growth. but everything for the future consists in having a noble beginning, however lowly, true foundations and clear aims, and this we have not yet secured. it seems almost as if we had begun at the wrong end, that the foundations of character were not made strong enough, before the intellectual superstructure began to be raised--and that this gives the sense of insecurity. an unusual strength of character would be required to lead the way in living worthily under such difficult circumstances as have been created, a great self-restraint to walk without swerving or losing the track, without the controlling machinery of university rules and traditions, without experience, at the most adventurous age of life, and except in preparation for professional work without the steadying power of definite duties and obligations. a few could do it, but not many, and those chosen few would have found their way in any case. the past bears witness to this. but the past as a whole bears other testimony which is worth considering here. through every vicissitude of women's education there have always been the few who were exceptional in mental and moral strength, and they have held on their way, and achieved a great deal, and left behind them names deserving of honour. such were maria gaetana agnesi, who was invited by the pope and the university to lecture in mathematics at bologna (and declined the invitation to give herself to the service of the poor), and lucretia helena gomaro piscopia, who taught philosophy and theology! and laura bassi who lectured in physics, and clara von schur-man who became proficient in greek, hebrew, syriac, and chaldaic in order to study scripture "with greater independence and judgment," and the pirk-heimer family of nuremberg, caritas and clara and others, whose attainments were conspicuous in their day. but there is something unfamiliar about all these names; they do not belong so much to the history of the world as to the curiosities of literature and learning. the world has not felt their touch upon it; we should scarcely miss them in the galleries of history if their portraits were taken down. the women who have been really great, whom we could not spare out of their place in history, have not been the student women or the remarkably learned. the greatest women have taken their place in the life of the world, not in its libraries; their strength has been in their character, their mission civilization in its widest and loftiest sense. they have ruled not with the "divine right of kings," but with the divine right of queens, which is quite a different title, undisputed and secure to them, if they do not abdicate it of themselves or drag it into the field of controversy to be matched and measured against the divine or human rights of kings. "the heaven of heavens is the lord's, but the earth he has given to the children of men," and to woman he seems to have assigned the borderland between the two, to fit the one for the other and weld the links. hers are the first steps in training the souls of children, the nurseries of the kingdom of heaven (the mothers of saints would fill a portrait gallery of their own); hers the special missions of peace and reconciliation and encouragement, the hidden germs of such great enterprises as the propagation of the faith, and the trust of such great devotions as that of the blessed sacrament and the sacred heart to be brought within the reach of the faithful. the names of matilda of tuscany, of st. catherine of siena, of blessed joan of arc, of isabella the catholic, of st. theresa are representative, amongst others, of women who have fulfilled public missions for the service of the church, and of christian people, and for the realization of religious ideals: true queens of the borderland between both worlds. others have reigned in their own spheres, in families or solitudes, or cloistered enclosures--as the two saints elizabeth, paula and eustochium and all their group of friends, the great abbesses hildegarde, hilda, gertrude and others, and the chosen line of foundresses of religious orders--these too have ruled the borderland, and their influence, direct or indirect, has all been in the same direction, for pacification and not for strife, for high aspiration and heavenly-mindedness, for faith and hope and love and self-devotion, and all those things for want of which the world is sick to death. but the kingdom of woman is on that borderland, and if she comes down to earth to claim its lowland provinces she exposes herself to lose both worlds, not securing real freedom or permanent equality in one, and losing hold of some of the highest prerogatives of the other. these may seem to be cloudy and visionary views, and this does not in any sense pretend to be a controversial defence of them, but only a suggestion that both history and present experience have something to say on this side of the question, a suggestion also that there are two spheres of influence, requiring different qualities for their perfect use, as there are two forces in a planetary system. if these forces attempted to work on one line the result would be the wreck of the whole, but in their balance one against the other, apparently contrary, in reality at one, the equilibrium of the whole is secured. one is for motor force and the other for central control; both working in concert establish the harmony of planetary motion and give permanent conditions of unity. here, as elsewhere, uniformity tends to ultimate loosening of unity; diversity establishes that balance which combines freedom with stability. once more it must be said that only the catholic church can give perfect adjustment to the two forces, as she holds up on both sides ideals which make for unity. and when the higher education of women has flowered under catholic influence, it has had a strong basis of moral worth, of discipline and control to sustain the expansion of intellectual life; and without the church the higher education of women has tended to one-sidedness, to nonconformity of manners, of character, and of mind, to extremes, to want of balance, and to loss of equilibrium in the social order, by straining after uniformity of rights and aims and occupations. so with regard to the general question of women's higher education may it be suggested that the moral training, the strengthening of character, is the side which must have precedence and must accompany every step of their education, making them fit to bear heavier responsibilities, to control their own larger independence, to stand against the current of disintegrating influences that will play upon them. to be fit for higher education calls for much acquired self-restraint, and unfortunately it is on the contrary sometimes sought as an opening for speedier emancipation from control. those who seek it in this spirit are of all others least fitted to receive it, for the aim is false, and it gives a false movement to the whole being. again, when it is entirely dissociated from the realities of life, it tends to unfit girls for any but a professional career in which they will have--at great cost to their own well-being--to renounce their contact with those primeval teachers of experience. in some countries they have found means of combining both in a modified form of university life for girls, and in this they are wiser than we. buds of the same tree have been introduced into england, but they are nipped by want of appreciation. we have still to look to our foundations, and even to make up our minds as to what we want. perhaps the next few years will make things clearer. but in the meantime there is a great deal to be done; there is one lesson that every one concerned with girls must teach them, and induce them to learn, that is the lesson of self-command and decision. our girls are in danger of drifting and floating along the current of the hour, passive in critical moments, wanting in perseverance to carry out anything that requires steady effort. they are often forced to walk upon slippery ground; temptations sometimes creep on insensibly, and at others make such sudden attacks that the thing all others to be dreaded for girls is want of courage and decision of character. those render them the best service who train them early to decide for themselves, to say yes or no definitely, to make up their mind promptly, not because they "feel like it" but for a reason which they know, and to keep in the same mind which they have reasonably made up. thus they may be fitted by higher moral education to receive higher mental training according to their gifts; but in any case they will be prepared by it to take up whatever responsibilities life may throw upon them. the future of girls necessarily remains indeterminate, at least until the last years of their education, but the long indeterminate time is not lost if it has been spent in preparatory training of mind, and especially in giving some resistance to their pliant or wayward characters. thus, whether they devote themselves to the well-being of their own families, or give themselves to volunteer work in any department, social or particular, or advance in the direction of higher studies, or receive any special call from god to dedicate their gifts to his particular service, they will at least have something to give; their education will have been "higher" in that it has raised them above the dead level of mediocre character and will-power, which is only responsive to the inclination or stimulus of the moment, but has no definite plan of life. it may be that as far as exterior work goes, or anything that has a name to it, no specified life-work will be offered to many, but it is a pity if they regard their lives as a failure on that account. there are lives whose occupations could not be expressed in a formula, yet they are precious to their surroundings and precious in themselves, requiring more steady self-sacrifice than those which give the stimulus of something definite to do. these need not feel themselves cut off from what is highest in woman's education, if they realize that the mind has a life in itself and makes its own existence there, not selfishly, but indeed in a peculiarly selfless way, because it has nothing to show for itself but some small round of unimpressive occupations; some perpetual call upon its sympathies and devotion, not enough to fill a life, but just enough to prevent it from turning to anything else. then the higher life has to be almost entirely within itself, and no one is there to see the value of it all, least of all the one who lives it. there is no stimulus, no success, no brilliancy; it is perhaps of all lives the hardest to accept, yet what perfect workmanship it sometimes shows. its disappearance often reveals a whole tissue of indirect influences which had gone forth from it; and who can tell how far this unregistered, uncertificated higher education of a woman, without a degree and with an exceedingly unassuming opinion of itself, may have extended. it is a life hard to accept, difficult to put into words with any due proportion to its worth, but good and beautiful to know, surely "rich in the sight of god," chapter xiv. conclusion. "far out the strange ships go: their broad sails flashing red as flame, or white as snow: the ships, as david said. 'winds rush and waters roll: their strength, their beauty, brings into mine heart the whole magnificence of things.'" lionel johnson. the conclusion is only an opportunity for repeating how much there is still to be said, and even more to be thought of and to be done, in the great problem and work of educating girls. every generation has to face the same problem, and deals with it in a characteristic way. for us it presents particular features of interest, of hope and likewise of anxious concern. the interest of education never flags; year after year the material is new, the children come up from the nursery to the school-room, with their life before them, their unbounded possibilities for good, their confidence and expectant hopefulness as to what the future will bring them. we have our splendid opportunity and are greatly responsible for its use. each precious result of education when the girl has grown up and leaves our hands is thrown into the furnace to be tried--fired--like glass or fine porcelain. those who educate have, at a given moment, to let go of their control, and however solicitously they may have foreseen and prepared for it by gradually obliging children to act without coercion and be responsible for themselves, yet the critical moment must come at last and "every man's work shall be manifest," "the fire shall try every man's work, of what sort it is" ( cor. iii). life tries the work of education, "of what sort it is." if it stands the test it is more beautiful than before, its colours are fixed. if it breaks, and some will inevitably break in the trial, a catholic education has left in the soul a way to recovery. nothing, with us, is hopelessly shattered, we always know how to make things right again. but if we can we must secure the character against breaking, our effort in education must be to make something that will last, and for this we must often sacrifice present success in consideration of the future, we must not want to see results. a small finished building is a more sightly object than one which is only beginning to rise above its foundations, yet we should choose that our educational work should be like the second rather than the first, even though it has reached "the ugly stage," though it has its disappointments and troubles before it, with its daily risks and the uncertainty of ultimate success. but it is a truer work, and a better introduction to the realities of life. a "finished education" is an illusion or else a lasting disappointment; the very word implies a condition of mind which is opposed to any further development, a condition of self-satisfaction. what then shall we call a well-educated girl, whom we consider ready for the opportunities and responsibilities of her new life? an equal degree of fitness cannot be expected from all, the difference between those who have ten talents and those who have only two will always be felt. those who have less will be well educated if they have acquired spirit enough not to be discontented or disheartened at feeling that their resources are small; if we have been able to inspire them with hope and plodding patience it will be a great thing, for this unconquerable spirit of perseverance does not fail in the end, it attains to something worthy of all honour, it gives us people of trust whose character is equal to their responsibilities, and that is no little thing in any position of life; and, if to this steadiness of will is added a contented mind, it will always be superior to its circumstances and will not cease to develop in the line of its best qualities. it is not these who disappoint--in fact they often give more than was expected of them. it is those of great promise who are more often disappointing in failing to realize what they might do with their richer endowments; they fail in strength of will. now if we want a girl to grow to the best that a woman ought to be it is in two things that we must establish her fundamentally--quiet of mind and firmness of will. quiet of mind equally removed from stagnation and from excitement. in stagnation her mind is open to the seven evil spirits who came into the house that was empty and swept; under excitement it is carried to extremes in any direction which occupies its attention at the time. the best minds of women are quiet, intuitive, and full of intellectual sympathies. they are not in general made for initiation and creation, but initiation and creation lean upon them for understanding and support. and their support must be moral as well as mental, for this they need firmness of will. support cannot be given to others without an inward support which does not fail towards itself in critical moments. the great victories of women have been won by this inward support, this firmness and perseverance of will based upon faith. the will of a woman is strong, not in the measure of what it manifests without, as of what it reserves within, that is to say in the moderation of its own impulsiveness and emotional tendency, in the self-discipline of perseverance, the subordination of personal interest to the good of whatever depends upon it for support. it is great in self-devotion, and in this is found its only lasting independence. to give much and ask little in personal return is independence of the highest kind. but faith alone can make it possible. the catholic faith gives that particular orientation of mind which is independent of this world, knowing the account which it must give to god. to some it is duty and the reign of conscience, to others it is detachment and the reign of the love of god, the joyful flight of the soul towards heavenly things. the particular name matters little, it has a centre of gravity. "as everlasting foundations upon a solid rock, so the commandments of god in the heart of a holy woman." [ --ecclus. xxvi. .] appendix i. extract from "the blessed sacrament" by father faber. book iii. sec. vii. let us put aside the curtain of vindicative fire, and see what this pain of loss is like; i say, what it is like, for it fortunately surpasses human imagination to conceive its dire reality. suppose that we could see the huge planets and the ponderous stars whirling their terrific masses with awful, and if it might be so, clamorous velocity, and thundering through the fields of unresisting space with furious gigantic momentum, such as the mighty avalanche most feebly figures, and thus describing with chafing eccentricities and frightful deflections, their mighty centre-seeking and centre-flying circles, we should behold in the nakedness of its tremendous operations the divine law of gravitation. thus in like manner should we see the true relations between god and ourselves, the true meaning and worth of his beneficent presence, if we could behold a lost soul at the moment of its final and judicial reprobation, a few moments after its separation from the body and in all the strength of its disembodied vigour and the fierceness of its penal immortality. no beast of the jungle, no chimera of heathen imagination, could be so appalling. no sooner is the impassable bar placed between god and itself than what theologians call the creature's radical love of the creator breaks out in a perfect tempest of undying efforts. it seeks its centre and it cannot reach it. it bounds up towards god, and is dashed down again. it thrusts and beats against the granite walls of its prison with such incredible force, that the planet must be strong indeed whose equilibrium is not disturbed by the weight of that spiritual violence. yet the great law of gravitation is stronger still, and the planet swings smoothly through its beautiful ether. nothing can madden the reason of the disembodied soul, else the view of the desirableness of god and the inefficacious attractions of the glorious divinity would do so. up and down its burning cage the many-facultied and mightily intelligenced spirit wastes its excruciating immortality in varying and ever varying still, always beginning and monotonously completing, like a caged beast upon its iron tether, a threefold movement, which is not three movements successively, but one triple movement all at once. in rage it would fain get at god to seize him, dethrone him, murder him, and destroy him; in agony it would fain suffocate its own interior thirst for god, which parches and burns it with all the frantic horrors of a perfectly self-possessed frenzy; and in fury it would fain break its tight fetters of gnawing fire which pin down its radical love of the beautiful sovereign good, and drag it ever back with cruel wrench from its desperate propension to its uncreated centre. in the mingling of these three efforts it lives its life of endless horrors. portentous as is the vehemence with which it shoots forth its imprecations against god, they fall faint and harmless, far short of his tranquil, song-surrounded throne. pour views of its own hideous state revolve around the lost soul, like the pictures of some ghastly show. one while it sees the million times ten million genera and species of pains of sense which meet and form a loathsome union with this vast central pain of loss. another while all the multitude of graces, the countless kind providences, which it has wasted pass before it, and generate that undying worm of remorse of which our saviour speaks. then comes a keen but joyless view, a calculation, but only a bankrupt's calculation, of the possibility of gains for ever forfeited, of all the grandeur and ocean-like vastness of the bliss which it has lost. last of all comes before it the immensity of god, to it so unconsoling and so unprofitable; it is not a picture, it is only a formless shadow, yet it knows instinctively that it is god. with a cry that should be heard creation through, it rushes upon him, and it knocks itself, spirit as it is, against material terrors. it clasps the shadow of god, and, lo! it embraces keen flames. it runs up to him but it has encountered only fearful demons. it leaps the length of its chain after him, but it has only dashed into an affrighting crowd of lost and cursed souls. thus is it ever writhing under the sense of being its own executioner. thus there is not an hour of our summer sunshine, not a moment of our sweet starlight, not a vibration of our moonlit groves, not an undulation of odorous air from our flowerbeds, not a pulse of delicious sound from music or song to us, but that hapless unpitiable soul is ever falling sick afresh of the overwhelming sense that all around it is eternal. extract from "the creator and the creature." by father faber. book ii. ch. v. yet the heavenly joys of the illuminated understanding far transcend the thrills of the glorified senses. the contemplation of heavenly beauty and of heavenly truth must indeed be beyond all our earthly standards of comparison. the clearness and instantaneousness of all the mental processes, the complete exclusion of error, the unbroken serenity of the vision, the facility of embracing whole worlds and systems in one calm, searching, exhausting glance, the divine character and utter holiness of all the truths presented to the view--these are broken words which serve at least to show what we may even 'now indistinctly covet in that bright abode of everlasting bliss. intelligent intercourse with the angelic choirs, and the incessant transmission of the divine splendours through them to our minds, cannot be thought of without our perceiving that the keen pleasures and deep sensibilities of the intellectual world on earth are but poor, thin, unsubstantial shadows of the exulting immortal life of our glorified minds above. the very expansion of the faculties of the soul, and the probable disclosure in it of many new faculties which have no object of exercise in this land of exile, are in themselves pleasures which we can hardly picture to ourselves. to be rescued from all narrowness, and for ever; to possess at all times a perfect consciousness of our whole undying selves, and to possess and retain that self-consciousness in the bright light of god; to feel the supernatural corroborations of the light of glory, securing to us powers of contemplation such as the highest mystical theology can only faintly and feebly imitate; to expatiate in god, delivered from the monotony of human things; to be securely poised in the highest flights of our immense capacities, without any sense of weariness, or any chance of a reaction; who can think out for himself the realities of a life like this? yet what is all this compared with one hour, one of earth's short hours, of the magnificences of celestial love? oh to turn our whole souls upon god, and souls thus expanded and thus glorified; to have our affections multiplied and magnified a thousandfold, and then girded up and strengthened by immortality to bear the beauty of god to be unveiled before us; and even so strengthened, to be rapt by it into a sublime amazement which has no similitude on earth; to be carried away by the inebriating torrents of love, and yet be firm in the most steadfast adoration; to have passionate desire, yet without tumult or disturbance; to have the most bewildering intensity along with an unearthly calmness; to lose ourselves in god, and then find ourselves there more our own than ever; to love rapturously and to be loved again still more rapturously, and then for our love to grow more rapturous still, and again the return of our love to be still outstripping what we gave, and then for us to love even yet more and more and more rapturously, and again, and again, and again to have it so returned, and still the great waters of god's love to flow over us and overwhelm us until the vehemence of our impassioned peace and the daring vigour of our yearning adoration reach beyond the sight of our most venturous imagining; what is all this but for our souls to live a life of the most intelligent entrancing ecstasy, and yet not be shivered by the fiery heat? there have been times on earth when we have caught our own hearts loving god, and there was a flash of light, and then a tear, and after that we lay down to rest. o happy that we were! worlds could not purchase from us even the memory of those moments. and yet when we think of heaven, we may own that we know not yet what manner of thing it is to love the lord our god. appendix ii _from a pastoral letter of his eminence cardinal bourne, archbishop of westminster, written when bishop of southwark. quinquagesima sunday,_ . ...every age has its own difficulties and dangers. at the present day we are exposed to temptations which at the beginning of the last century were of comparatively small account. it will be so always. every new development of human activity, every invention of human ingenuity, is meant by god to serve to his honour, and to the good of his creatures. we must accept them all gratefully as the results of the intelligence which he has been pleased to bestow upon us. at the same time the experience of every age teaches us that the weakness and perversity of many wrest to evil purposes these gifts, which in the divine intention should serve only for good. it is against the perverted use of two of god's gifts that we would very earnestly warn you to-day. during the last century the power that men have of conveying their thoughts to others has been multiplied incredibly by the facility of the printed word. thoughts uttered in speech or sermon were given but to a few hundreds who came within the reach of the human voice. even when they were communicated to manuscript they came to the knowledge of very few. what a complete change has now been wrought. in the shortest space of time men's ideas are conveyed all over the world, and they may become at once a power for good or for evil in every place, and millions who have never seen or heard him whose thoughts they read, are brought to some extent under his influence. again, at the present day all men read, more or less. the number of those who are unable to do so is rapidly diminishing, and a man who cannot read will soon be practically unknown. as a matter of fact men read a great deal, and they are very largely influenced by what they read. thus the multiplicity of printed matter, and the widespread power of reading have created a situation fraught with immense possibilities for good, but no less exposed to distinct occasions of evil and of sin. it is to such occasions of sin, dear children in jesus christ, that we desire to direct your attention this lent. every gift of god brings with it responsibility on our part in the use that we make of it. the supreme gift of intelligence and free-will are powers to enable us to love and serve god, but we are able to use them to dishonour and outrage him. so with all the other faculties that flow from these two great gifts. beading and books have brought many souls nearer to their creator. many souls, on the other hand, have been ruined eternally by the books which they have read. it is dearly, therefore, of importance to us to know how to use wisely these gifts that we possess. the holy catholic church, the guardian of god's truth, and the unflinching upholder of the moral law, has been always alive to her duty in this matter, and from the earliest times has claimed and exercised the right of pointing out to her children books that are dangerous to faith or virtue. this is one of the duties of bishops, and, in a most special manner, of the sacred congregation of the index. and, though at the present day, owing to the decay of religious belief, this authority cannot be exercised in the same way as of old, it is on that very account all the more necessary for us to bear well in mind, and to carry out fully in practice, the great unchanging principles on which the legislation of the church in this matter has been ever based. you are bound, dear children in jesus christ, to guard yourselves against all those things which may be a source of danger to your faith or purity of heart. you have no right to tamper with the one or the other. therefore, in the first place, it is the duty of catholics to abstain from reading all such books as are written directly with the object of attacking the christian faith, or undermining the foundations of morality. if men of learning and position are called upon to read such works in order to refute them, they must do so with the fear of god before their eyes. they must fortify themselves by prayer and spiritual reading, even as men protect themselves from contagion, where they have to enter a poisonous atmosphere. mere curiosity, still less the desire to pass as well informed in every newest theory, will not suffice to justify us in exposing ourselves to so grave a risk. again, there are many books, especially works of fiction, in which false principles are often indirectly conveyed, and by which the imagination may be dangerously excited. with regard to such reading, it is very hard to give one definite rule, for its effect on different characters varies so much. a book most dangerous to one may be almost without harm to another, on account of the latter's want of vivid imagination. again, a book full of danger to the youth or girl may be absolutely without effect on one of maturer years. the one and only rule is to be absolutely loyal and true to our conscience, and if the voice of conscience is not sufficiently distinct, to seek guidance and advice from those upon whom we can rely, and above all, from the director of our souls. if we take up a book, and we find that, without foolish scruple, it is raising doubts in our mind or exciting our imagination in perilous directions, then we must be brave enough to close it, and not open it again. if our weakness is such that we cannot resist temptation, which unforeseen may come upon us, then it is our duty not to read any book the character of which is quite unknown to us. if any such book is a source of temptation to us, we must shun it, if we wish to do our duty to god. if our reading makes us discontented with the lot in life which divine providence has assigned to us, if it leads us to neglect or do ill the duties of our position, if we find that our trust in god is lessening and our love of this world growing, in all these cases we must examine ourselves with the greatest care, and banish from ourselves any book which is having these evil effects upon us. lastly there is an immense amount of literature, mostly of an ephemeral character, which almost of necessity enters very largely into our lives at the present day. we cannot characterize it as wholly bad, though its influence is not entirely good, but it is hopeless to attempt to counteract what is harmful in it by any direct means. the newspapers and magazines of the hour are often without apparent harm, and yet very often their arguments are based on principles which are unsound, and their spirit is frankly worldly, and entirely opposed to the teaching of jesus christ and of the gospel. still more when the catholic church and the holy see are in question, we know full well, and the most recent experience has proved it, that they are often consciously or unconsciously untruthful. even when their misrepresentations have been exposed, in spite of the boasted fairness of our country, we know that we must not always expect a withdrawal of false news, still less adequate apology. constant reading of this character cannot but weaken the catholic sense and instinct, and engender in their place a worldly and critical spirit most harmful in every way, unless we take means to counteract it. what are these means? a place must be found in your lives, dear children in jesus christ, for reading of a distinctly catholic character. you must endeavour to know the actual life and doings of the catholic church at home and abroad by the reading of catholic periodical literature. you must have at hand books of instruction in the catholic faith, for at least occasional reading, so as to keep alive in your minds the full teaching of the church. you must give due place to strictly spiritual reading, such as the "holy gospels," "the following of christ," "the introduction to a devout life" by st. francis of sales, and the lives of the saints, which are now published in every form and at every price. it is not your duty to abstain from reading all the current literature of the day, but it is your duty to nourish your catholic mental life by purely catholic literature. the more you read of secular works, the more urgent is your duty to give a sufficient place to those also, which will directly serve you in doing your duty to god and in saving your soul. assuredly one of the most pressing duties at the present day is to recognize fully our personal and individual responsibility in this matter of reading, and to examine our conscience closely to see how we are acquitting ourselves of it. before we leave this subject, we wish to ask all those among you dear children in jesus christ, who, whether as fathers and mothers, or as members of religious institutes, or masters and mistresses in schools, are charged with the education of the young, to do all in your power to train those committed to you to a wise and full understanding of this matter of reading, and to a realization of its enormous power for good and harm, and, therefore, to a sense of the extreme responsibility attaching to it. make them understand that, while all are able to read, all things are not to be read by all; that this power, like every power, may be abused, and that we have to learn how to use it with due restraint. while they are with you and gladly subject to your influence, train their judgment and their taste in reading, so that they may know what is good and true, and know how to turn from what is evil and false. such a trained and cultivated judgment is the best protection that you can bestow upon them. some dangers must be overcome by flight, but there are far more, especially at the present day, which must be faced, and then overcome. it is part of your great vocation to prepare and equip these children to be brave and to conquer in this fight. gradually, therefore, accustom them to the dangers they may meet in reading. train their judgment, strengthen their wills, make them loyal to conscience, and then, trusting in god's grace, give them to their work in life. index. abbesses, the great, . accent and pronunciation, . adolescence, impressionability of children in, . aesthetics, ; principles of, - ; teaching of, . agnesi, maria gaetana, . aids to study, - . a kempls on self-seeking, . america: educational experiments in, ; text-books in, . american view on character, . --expressive phrases, , . ampere, catholic scientist, . amusements and lessons, . animals, care of, in education of children, . answers, irrelevancy in girls', . aquinas, st. thomas, . architecture, gothic, inferences from, . arnold, matthew, quoted, . art, character and, - ; christian, , , ; for children, - ; contrasts in works of, - ; in education of girls, , ; french art, ; history of, - ; study of, - ; aims of study in early education, , . assenting mind, the, . assentors, great, . athletic craze, the, . --girl, the, . atmosphere in education, - . audience, english and german, contrasted, . "aurora leigh," . average person, the, - . "babylonian captivity," the. . bacon, "of goodnesse," . balder, the story of, . barbarism, selfishness and, . basilicas, the christian, - . basket-ball for girls, . bassi, laura, . beale, dorothea, cited, . bedford college, . benedictine monks, cited, - . boarding schools, ; young children in, . boniface viii, . books, attitude of child towards, ; wealth of children's literature in england, - --reaction against mere lessons from, , - . --sacred, jewels of prayer and devotion in, is. --to avoid, . botany, - . british oulturs, characteristics of, . browning, e. b., cited, . --r., quoted, ; "an incident of the french camp," cited, . calvinism, , . candour, charm of, in children, . carlyle, cited, . catch-words, abuse of, . catherine, st., of siena, . catholic-- art, , . atmosphere, effect on manners, . body, at play, ; and religious education, . characteristics: belong to graver side of human race, , child, the, characteristics of, , ; source of courage in, - ; in protestant surroundings, ; prerogative of, , . children, and relationship with jeaus and his mother, ; and religion, - ; under influence of sacraments, . church, ideals for man and woman in, , . citizenship, . disabilities, newman quoted, - . education, , , ; and character, ; and history, . faith, gives particular orientation of mind, . family life, , . girls, and work for the church, ; and church music, . historical hold on the past, . literature, . men of science, . mental life, . mind: training of the, ; and history, . patriotism, . peasantry, . philosophy, - ; value of, in education, . schools: manners in, ; sodalities in, . secrets of strength, . teachers, ; and truth in history, . text-books, need of, . women, duty and privilege of, . catholics and-- equality of education, ; higher education, ; duty in ing, ; historical teaching, ; latin, ; taste in art, --disabilities of, newman quoted, - . celts of n. europe, types of character among, . certificates as aids to study, . character, - ; essentials of, - ; evolution of, , - ; study of, , , - ; training of, , - , - , , - , , , , , - , ; means of training - ; types of, - , . --influence of art on, . --in the teacher, , - . --manners and, . --religion and, - , . --the strength of great women, . --value of, appreciated by children, - , . characters, modern, , ; cardinal points in study of children's, - . characteristic cadence in speaking, . characteristics, of the age, ; of british culture, ; of english style, - ; of girls' work, . charges against the church, . chaucer, . cheltenham college, , . child, attitude of, towards books, . --martyrs, . --study, , . --vocabulary of an "only," . --wordsworth's "model child," - . _see also_ catholic child. childhood, friendships formed in, . --impressionability of, . childishness in piety, . childlike spirit of catholic child, . children, . --books for, - ; attitude to books, . --characteristics of, , , , - , - , ; candour, ; habits of mind, ; sensitive to influences, ; as critics, ; like _real people_, - ; dislike compromise, . --delicate, , , , . --development of, ; mental development, - , - . --eccentric ways in, . --groups observable among, , - , , , . --and lessons; a simple life essential, ; do not know how to learn, ; answers, . --letters of, - . --and love of nature, , . --no orphans within the church, . --and playtime solitude, - . souls of, . --training of, - . chivalry: age of, ; religious spirit of, . choleric temperament, the, . church, the-- abuses in, exaggerated, . ceremonial of, - . characterised as the great master who educates us all, ; as the guardian of truth, ; the teacher of all nations, - , . example of, as teacher, ; influence on catholic taachers, - . in france, . and history, . ideals for man and woman in, , . music of, - . needlework for, . the pioneers of, . as a teacher of manners, - , . testimony to, from non-catholic sources, , . classes, advantages of large, . classical studies, - classics, english, for the young, . "clever" children, the so-called, . colonial life, . common sense, . communion, first, . composition, oral, ; written, , - . concentric method in teaching, . confirmation, . contentment, . contrasts, method of, in teaching of art, . control and "handling" in training children, . controversies. _see_ educational controversies. conventionality, - . conventions, code of, . conversation, - ; of girls, - ; principles in, . cooking, , . correction, value of, . cosmology, . countrymen and nature, - . crimean war and women's work, . criticism and correction, - ; administered by the church, . --evils of merely destructive, ; reading lesson as an exercise in, ; of essays, . critics, gravity of children as, . cross-roads in a girl's life, . cruelty, . crusades, ideals of the, . curiosity concerning evil, ; evil of curiosity in reading, . dalgairns, fr., cited, . damoiseaux, in days of chivalry, dancing, - . dante, "paradiso," quoted, . death, right thoughts of, . de bonald, cited, . de ghantal, st. jane f., quoted, . de gramont, marquise, quoted, . degrees, different significance of, for man and woman, - . democratic age, , . democracy in the nursery, . de ravignan, pere, quoted, . devotion: requirements of, ; to our lady, , . _and see_ self-devotion. devotions of blessed sacrament and sacred heart entrusted to women, . --to the saints, . difficulties of mind, - . discipline and obedience, . dogmatism in teaching, . domestic occupations, , - , , . doubts and difficulties as to faith, . dressmaking, . drudgery, need of, , . duty and endurance, . eccentricity, - . educated, a well-educated girl, . education-- aims in, , , , - . board of, - , , , , . and character, , . demands of girls', . a "finished," - . higher education of women, - . home education, , , , . intermediate, , . intellectual and practical, contrasted, . last years of, . and lesson books, . life the test of, . and material requirements of life, . middle class, and practical work, . mistakes in english, - . the opportunity of the teacher, , practical, , ; practical aspect of, . problems in, _et seq_. religious, - . and religious orders, - . state control in, . system of , , . "ugly stage" in, . of women, changes in, . of young children, - , - . educational advantages of personal work, . educational controversies, , , , , , . --experiments in america, . --pressure levels original thought, . educators, qualities in great, ; fundamental principles of, , . --of early childhood, types of, - . elementary schools, . elizabeth, the two saints, . emerson on manners, . encouragement, need of, . english characteristics, , , - . --language, , ; study of, - ; mathod in study, ; characteristics of style, - ; american influences on, - ; traces of elizabethan, in america, ; new words in, ; children's english, - . _and see_ composition, conversation, literature, reading. --martyrs, . --portraits in berlin, - . essay writing, - . ethics, , , , . european history, , . eustoohium, st., . examination programme, a professional danger, . example, power of, , . excitement, evil of, , . _exempt_ persons, . faber, father, on hell and heaven, , - . fairness, children look for, . faith, and art, - , . --catholic, things which come with, . --child's soul hungry for, . --children as confessors of, . --dangers to, - , , . --difficulties and doubts as to, - . --mysteries in, , . --philosophy, a help and support to, , . --the propagation of the, . --responsibility with regard to, - . --right thoughts of, . --thoughts of, inspiring life, , , . family life, catholic, , . fathers and mothers, symbols of god's love, . faults contrary to spirit of childhood, . feltre, vittorino da, . fighting instinct in child, . first aid, . fitch, sir j., "lessons on teaching," cited . fitness, sense of, . flowers and children, , , - . four last things, right thoughts of, - . france, literature in, . francis of sales, st., cited, , , ; on care of the church, ; works of, _n_., . frauenbund, . freemason, jewish, in rome, . french: art, ; language, study of, , , - ; litarature - ; mind, bent of, ; revolution, . friend, the influence of a, . friendship and character forming, , . friendships, as indications of character, ; a safeguard against morbid, ; with the saints, . gairdner's "lollardy and the reformation" cited, . games, value of organized, , - , . gardens for children, . --in a new country, . genesis, book of, . geography, . german, language, study of, - , - . --musical audience, . girl students at universities, - , . girls' and higher moral education, - . --answers, irrelevancy in, . --views of life at age of , ; mental outlook at , . --work, characteristics of, . girton, . "giving way," . god, child's soul near to, . --duty to, , , . --fatherhood of, , . --on conveying right thought of, to children, - . --truths concerning existence of, . god's care for us, . --priest, art, . golliwogg, the, - . gothic architecture, . governess, a modern, . grammar, . gramophone in language teaching, . greek history, . --tragedies, . gregory xvi and de bonald, . grown-up life, on anticipated instruction in, . habit of work, , . habits, , . handicrafts, teaching of, . "handling " in training in manners, - . handy member of family, the, . hearing of lessons, . hedley, bp., quoted, . hell and heaven, , - . hidden lives, - . higher education of women, - ; atmosphere for, non-existent , ; and catholic influence, ; false aims in, ; and realities of life, . --life, the, . historical teaching to catholics, . history, ; position in curriculum, - ; value in education, . --european, centres round the church, - . --study, and the examination syllabus, , . --teaching: and periods in development of children, - ; aims in teaching, ; method, , - , - ; concentric method, ; truth in teaching, ; requirements in the teacher, - . --text-books, defects of, . hockey, . holy family, the, . --roman empire, . home education, , , , . --happiness dependent on manners, . hooliganism, - . imagination, - . impressionism in conduct, . independence, , , , . influence. _see_ example. insincerity, - ; in teaching, , . inspectors on teaching by nuns, . investitures, struggle concerning, . irish intermediate education, , . isabella the catholic, . italian humanism, . --language, study of, , . --question, . jansenism, spirit of, . jesus christ, right views of, - . joan of arc, blessed, . johnson, lionel, quoted, xiii, . judgment, right thoughts of, - . keble, j., quoted, . kingdom of woman, . knighthood, training for, - knowledge: at first hand, ; before action, ; love of, and influence of teacher, - . laboratory science, - . language. _see_ english. languages, modern, place and value in education, - , - ; social and commercial values of, - ; evil of superficial knowledge of, ; attitude towards study of, , ; choice of, - ; pronunciation, ; methods in study, - ; self-instruction courses, ; translation, - . latin, - ; grammar, . --races, temperaments among, . learning by heart, . --of lessons, - . leo xiii, , , . lesson books and education, , , . lessons and play, , - , . --from history, . --hearing of, ; learning of, - . letter-writing, - . lir, children of, . literature, - ; wealth of children's books, - . logic, , - , ; has no place in english religious system, . lowell, j. russell, quoted, . loyalty and patriotism, . mackey, canon, cited, . "mangnall's questions," . mannerisms in teachers, - . manners, - , , ; codes of, - ; derivation of word, ; acquiring of, wearisome, - , ; neglect of, - ; effect of neglect to teach, - ; fundamentals of, - ; high and low watermarks in, - ; standard of, , ; training in, - , - ; example not enough, ; personal element in training in, ; mistakes in training in, ; truthfulness in, - . manners and-- class of life, ; home ties, - ; religion, - , - , ; service, , ; the life of to-day, . manual work, value of, in education, - , , ; a corrective to eccentricity, ; domestic occupations, - . mathematics, , - , . matilda of tuscany, . mechanical toys, - . melancholic temperament, the, , . mercier, cardinal, quoted, , , . metaphysics, . middle-class education, . mind, quiet of, , - ; habits of mind in children, ; development of, - , - . minds: the best of, in women, - ; ; classes of, - . modernism, . montalembert, quoted, . more, blessed thomas, , . _mouvement feministe_, . music, place of, in education, - ; aims of study in, ; intellectual aspect of, . myths, value in teaching history, . nagging, in teaching manners, . natural science, , - , - . --theology, , - . nature study, , - ; aims of, ; books, - . neoker de saussure, mme., quoted, - , . needlework, - , . nervs fatigue, . "nerves," women subject to, . newman, cardinal, quoted, , . newnham college, . nightingale, florence, . non-catholic parents, and schools held by religious, . --schools, , . nonconformist type of character, - . nonentities, good, - . north of england ladies' "council of education," . nuremberg, pirkheimer family of, . nurse, the english and the irish, - . nursery shrine, the, , . nursing, , - . obedience, training in, . observation of children, . --training in, , - . oral composition, ; oral lessons, , . organization and development, , . our lady, right thoughts of, - . oxford and cambridge degrees, . --girl students at, . painting and drawing, - . parents: and teaching about god, ; and teaching of manners, . pasteur, . pater, walter, cited, . patience, value of, , ; mental and moral, in women, . patriotism, , - . paula, st., . peasantry, catholic, simplicity of manners in, . penance, sacrament of, . people of great promise, . personal work, educational advantages of, . piety, childishness in, . philosophy, - ; method of study in, - ; relation to revealed truth, . phonetics, . physical exercise, . pico de mirandola, . pirkheimer family of nuremberg, . piscopia, lucretia, . pius vii, . pius x, life of labour of, . plants, care of, for chilflren, . play, - , , ; and character, , , ; of the nursery, - ; and organized games, - , ; and solitude, - ; toys and playthings, ; hoops, . poetry, ; place of, ; for children's recitation, . popes, the: in history, , , ; of renaissance, ; temporal power of, ; life of labour of, - . popularity in matters of taste, - . portraits, criticism of english, in berlin, - . pose, temptation to, ; of being erratic, . practical education, . pressure in education, , - . prize distribution, system of, - . professional dangers in teaching, - . pronunciation and accent, . proportion in studies, . protestant reformation, effect on manners, . --school, catholic child in, . protestantism, ; and french revolution, . psychology, , - , . pugin's "book of contrasts," cited, . punishment, . "quack" methods in learning languages, . queen victoria, , . queen's college, london, opening of, . querdeo, y le, quoted, . querulous tone, in the nursery, . question and answer lessons, , . questioning, manner of, ; effect of too many questions, . quiet of mind, , - . reading: cardinal archbishop of westminster on, , - ; and character, ; for girls, , ; without commentary, ; value of, in education, - . --aloud, , , ; the best introduction to literature, . realities of life, , _et seq_., . recitation, - ; gesture in, . recreation. _see_ play. reformation, the protestant, . religion, the teaching of, - ; aims in, , - ; periods in, . religious houses, foundresses of, ; and manual labour, . --minds, difficulties of, . --orders, development of, . --teaching: qualifications for, ; and manners, . renaissance, the, ; popes of the, . rewards, , , . reynolds, sir joshua, cited, . roman catholics, disabilities of, - . --history, . rossettl, d. g., quoted, . sacraments, the, as modifying temperamant, . sacred books, jewels of prayer in, . saints, devotions to the, - . savonarola, . schiller, quoted, . scholastic philosophy, . school: and home education, contrasted, - ; and preparation for life, , , _et seq_,; organization and individual development, . --education, drawbacks to, - . --life, impressiveness of, - . sohurman, clara von, . science, experimental, - , ; misuse of the term, - . scolding, , . scottish schoolmasters, old race of, - . scriptural knowledge examinations, . scripture, devotional study of, . self-consciousness in children, . self-devotion, , , , . self-help, - . selfishness, , - . servant question, . servants, manners in the best, . shrines, nursery, , . sidney, sir philip, . silliness, driven out by manual work, . simple life, the, , ; for children, . sin and evil, right thoughts of, - . sincerity, , - . sodalities in catholic schools, . solitude, value of, to children, - . south african war, reaction in education since, - . spanish, study of, , . spiritualism, . sporting instinct in children, . stagnation of mind, . story-telling, ; in teaching history, - . strength, catholic secrets of, . study, aids to, . suffrage movement, women's, . taste, , - ; and character, - ; independent, ; self-taught, , ; trained, . "teacher study," from child's point of view, . teacher's manners, - . teachers, a large measure of freedom for, , teaching, a great stewardship, - , ; reality in, ; qualifications in religious, . --orders of eeligious, - . "teddy bears," , . temperament, - ; difficulties of, ; division and classification of, , - ; in religion, - . tennyson, quoted, . teutons, types of character among, . text-books, . theatres and children, . theology: not for girls, ; parallel with a great basilica, - ; natural, . theresa, saint, . thompson, francis, quoted, , . time, value of, . townsman, the, in the country, - . toys, . translation from foreign languages, - . transvaal, a garden party in the, . truthfulness, , . ullathorne, archbishop, quoted, . ulysses, the wanderings of, . university life for girls, - , . --locals, , . urquhart, d., quoted, . utilitarians in social life, . victoria, queen, , . vigilance, . vitality in teacher, . vocabulary of children, . vocation, choice of a, . voice, influence of tone of, ; cadences in, - ; production, - . vulgarity, . wassmann, catholic scientist, . ways of learning lessons, - . westminster, cardinal archbishop of, on reading, , - . will of a woman, strength of, . wisdom, the beginning of, . wollstonecraft, mary, cited, . woman, the kingdom of, ; the mission of, . women, higher education of, - ; changes in education of, . --and manners, . --direction of influence of, . --mental characteristics of the best, . --tendency of, to impressionism in conduct, . --the really great, ; conspicuous in learning, ; conspicuous in religion, . women's suffrage movement, . wordsworth, quoted, , , . work, habit of, , . young ladies, education for, . aberdeen: the university press page images generously made available by the home economics archive: research, tradition and history, albert r. mann library, cornell university (http://hearth.library.cornell.edu/) note: images of the original pages are available through the home economics archive: research, tradition and history, albert r. mann library, cornell university. see http://hearth.library.cornell.edu/cgi/t/text/text-idx?c=hearth;idno= +------------------------------------------------------------+ | transcriber's notes: | | | | a number of obvious typographical errors have been | | corrected in this text. for a complete list, please | | see the end of this document. | | | | this document has inconsistent hyphenation. | | | | greek has been transliterated and marked with + marks | | | +------------------------------------------------------------+ sex in education; or, a fair chance for girls. by edward h. clarke, m.d., member of the massachusetts medical society; fellow of the american academy of arts and sciences; late professor of materia medica in harvard college, etc., etc. boston: james r. osgood and company, (late ticknor & fields, and fields, osgood, & co.) . entered according to act of congress, in the year , by edward h. clarke, in the office of the librarian of congress, at washington boston: stereotyped and printed by rand, avery, & co. "an american female constitution, which collapses just in the middle third of life, and comes out vulcanized india-rubber, if it happen to live through the period when health and strength are most wanted." oliver wendell holmes: _autocrat of the breakfast table_. "he reverenced and upheld, in every form in which it came before him, _womanhood_.... what a woman should demand is respect for her as she is a woman. let her first lesson be, with sweet susan winstanley, _to reverence her sex_." charles lamb: _essays of elia_. "we trust that the time now approaches when man's condition shall be progressively improved by the force of reason and truth, when the brute part of nature shall be crushed, that the god-like spirit may unfold." guizot: _history of civilization_, i., . contents. part i. introductory part ii. chiefly physiological part iii. chiefly clinical part iv. co-education part v. the european way preface. about a year ago the author was honored by an invitation to address the new-england women's club in boston. he accepted the invitation, and selected for his subject the relation of sex to the education of women. the essay excited an unexpected amount of discussion. brief reports of it found their way into the public journals. teachers and others interested in the education of girls, in different parts of the country, who read these reports, or heard of them, made inquiry, by letter or otherwise, respecting it. various and conflicting criticisms were passed upon it. this manifestation of interest in a brief and unstudied lecture to a small club appeared to the author to indicate a general appreciation of the importance of the theme he had chosen, compelled him to review carefully the statements he had made, and has emboldened him to think that their publication in a more comprehensive form, with added physiological details and clinical illustrations, might contribute something, however little, to the cause of sound education. moreover, his own conviction, not only of the importance of the subject, but of the soundness of the conclusions he has reached, and of the necessity of bringing physiological facts and laws prominently to the notice of all who are interested in education, conspires with the interest excited by the theme of his lecture to justify him in presenting these pages to the public. the leisure of his last professional vacation has been devoted to their preparation. the original address, with the exception of a few verbal alterations, is incorporated into them. great plainness of speech will be observed throughout this essay. the nature of the subject it discusses, the general misapprehension both of the strong and weak points in the physiology of the woman question, and the ignorance displayed by many, of what the co-education of the sexes really means, all forbid that ambiguity of language or euphemism of expression should be employed in the discussion. the subject is treated solely from the standpoint of physiology. technical terms have been employed, only where their use is more exact or less offensive than common ones. if the publication of this brief memoir does nothing more than excite discussion and stimulate investigation with regard to a matter of such vital moment to the nation as the relation of sex to education, the author will be amply repaid for the time and labor of its preparation. no one can appreciate more than he its imperfections. notwithstanding these, he hopes a little good may be extracted from it, and so commends it to the consideration of all who desire the _best_ education of the sexes. boston, arlington street, october, . preface to second edition. the demand for a second edition of this book in little more than a week after the publication of the first, indicates the interest which the public take in the relation of sex to education, and justifies the author in appealing to physiology and pathology for light upon the vexed question of the appropriate education of girls. excepting a few verbal alterations, and the correction of a few typographical errors, there is no difference between this edition and the first. the author would have been glad to add to this edition a section upon the relation of sex to women's work in life, after their technical education is completed, but has not had time to do so. boston, arlington street, nov. , . note to the fifth edition. the attention of the reader is called to the definition of "education" on the twentieth page. it is there stated, that, throughout this essay, education is not used in the limited sense of mental or intellectual training alone, but as comprehending the whole manner of life, physical and psychical, during the educational period; that is, following worcester's comprehensive definition, as comprehending instruction, discipline, manners, and habits. this, of course, includes home-life and social life, as well as school-life; balls and parties, as well as books and recitations; walking and riding, as much as studying and sewing. when a remission or intermission is necessary, the parent must decide what part of education shall be remitted or omitted,--the walk, the ball, the school, the party, or all of these. none can doubt which will interfere most with nature's laws,--four hours' dancing, or four hours' studying. these remarks may be unnecessary. they are made because some who have noticed this essay have spoken of it as if it treated only of the school, and seem to have forgotten the just and comprehensive signification in which education is used throughout this memoir. moreover, it may be well to remind the reader, even at the risk of casting a reflection upon his intelligence, that, in these pages, the relation of sex to mature life is not discussed, except in a few passages, in which the large capacities and great power of woman are alluded to, provided the epoch of development is physiologically guided. sex in education. part i. introductory. "is there any thing better in a state than that both women and men be rendered the very best? there is not."--plato. it is idle to say that what is right for man is wrong for woman. pure reason, abstract right and wrong, have nothing to do with sex: they neither recognize nor know it. they teach that what is right or wrong for man is equally right and wrong for woman. both sexes are bound by the same code of morals; both are amenable to the same divine law. both have a right to do the best they can; or, to speak more justly, both should feel the duty, and have the opportunity, to do their best. each must justify its existence by becoming a complete development of manhood and womanhood; and each should refuse whatever limits or dwarfs that development. the problem of woman's sphere, to use the modern phrase, is not to be solved by applying to it abstract principles of right and wrong. its solution must be obtained from physiology, not from ethics or metaphysics. the question must be submitted to agassiz and huxley, not to kant or calvin, to church or pope. without denying the self-evident proposition, that whatever a woman can do, she has a right to do, the question at once arises, what can she do? and this includes the further question, what can she best do? a girl can hold a plough, and ply a needle, after a fashion. if she can do both better than a man, she ought to be both farmer and seamstress; but if, on the whole, her husband can hold best the plough, and she ply best the needle, they should divide the labor. he should be master of the plough, and she mistress of the loom. the _quæstio vexata_ of woman's sphere will be decided by her organization. this limits her power, and reveals her divinely-appointed tasks, just as man's organization limits his power, and reveals his work. in the development of the organization is to be found the way of strength and power for both sexes. limitation or abortion of development leads both to weakness and failure. neither is there any such thing as inferiority or superiority in this matter. man is not superior to woman, nor woman to man. the relation of the sexes is one of equality, not of better and worse, or of higher and lower. by this it is not intended to say that the sexes are the same. they are different, widely different from each other, and so different that each can do, in certain directions, what the other cannot; and in other directions, where both can do the same things, one sex, as a rule, can do them better than the other; and in still other matters they seem to be so nearly alike, that they can interchange labor without perceptible difference. all this is so well known, that it would be useless to refer to it, were it not that much of the discussion of the irrepressible woman-question, and many of the efforts for bettering her education and widening her sphere, seem to ignore any difference of the sexes; seem to treat her as if she were identical with man, and to be trained in precisely the same way; as if her organization, and consequently her function, were masculine, not feminine. there are those who write and act as if their object were to assimilate woman as much as possible to man, by dropping all that is distinctively feminine out of her, and putting into her as large an amount of masculineness as possible. these persons tacitly admit the error just alluded to, that woman is inferior to man, and strive to get rid of the inferiority by making her a man. there may be some subtle physiological basis for such views--some strange quality of brain; for some who hold and advocate them are of those, who, having missed the symmetry and organic balance that harmonious development yields, have drifted into an hermaphroditic condition. one of this class, who was glad to have escaped the chains of matrimony, but knew the value and lamented the loss of maternity, wished she had been born a widow with two children. these misconceptions arise from mistaking difference of organization and function for difference of position in the scale of being, which is equivalent to saying that man is rated higher in the divine order because he has more muscle, and woman lower because she has more fat. the loftiest ideal of humanity, rejecting all comparisons of inferiority and superiority between the sexes, demands that each shall be perfect in its kind, and not be hindered in its best work. the lily is not inferior to the rose, nor the oak superior to the clover: yet the glory of the lily is one, and the glory of the oak is another; and the use of the oak is not the use of the clover. that is poor horticulture which would train them all alike. when col. higginson asked, not long ago, in one of his charming essays, that almost persuade the reader, "ought women to learn the alphabet?" and added, "give woman, if you dare, the alphabet, then summon her to the career," his physiology was not equal to his wit. women will learn the alphabet at any rate; and man will be powerless to prevent them, should he undertake so ungracious a task. the real question is not, _shall_ women learn the alphabet? but _how_ shall they learn it? in this case, how is more important than ought or shall. the principle and duty are not denied. the method is not so plain. the fact that women have often equalled and sometimes excelled men in physical labor, intellectual effort, and lofty heroism, is sufficient proof that women have muscle, mind, and soul, as well as men; but it is no proof that they have had, or should have, the same kind of training; nor is it any proof that they are destined for the same career as men. the presumption is, that if woman, subjected to a masculine training, arranged for the development of a masculine organization, can equal man, she ought to excel him if educated by a feminine training, arranged to develop a feminine organization. indeed, i have somewhere encountered an author who boldly affirms the superiority of women to all existences on this planet, because of the complexity of their organization. without undertaking to indorse such an opinion, it may be affirmed, that an appropriate method of education for girls--one that should not ignore the mechanism of their bodies or blight any of their vital organs--would yield a better result than the world has yet seen. gail hamilton's statement is true, that, "a girl can go to school, pursue all the studies which dr. todd enumerates, except _ad infinitum_; know them, not as well as a chemist knows chemistry or a botanist botany, but as well as they are known by boys of her age and training, as well, indeed, as they are known by many college-taught men, enough, at least, to be a solace and a resource to her; then graduate before she is eighteen, and come out of school as healthy, as fresh, as eager, as she went in."[ ] but it is not true that she can do all this, and retain uninjured health and a future secure from neuralgia, uterine disease, hysteria, and other derangements of the nervous system, if she follows the same method that boys are trained in. boys must study and work in a boy's way, and girls in a girl's way. they may study the same books, and attain an equal result, but should not follow the same method. mary can master virgil and euclid as well as george; but both will be dwarfed,--defrauded of their rightful attainment,--if both are confined to the same methods. it is said that elena cornaro, the accomplished professor of six languages, whose statue adorns and honors padua, was educated like a boy. this means that she was initiated into, and mastered, the studies that were considered to be the peculiar dower of men. it does not mean that her life was a man's life, her way of study a man's way of study, or that, in acquiring six languages, she ignored her own organization. women who choose to do so can master the humanities and the mathematics, encounter the labor of the law and the pulpit, endure the hardness of physic and the conflicts of politics; but they must do it all in woman's way, not in man's way. in all their work they must respect their own organization, and remain women, not strive to be men, or they will ignominiously fail. for both sexes, there is no exception to the law, that their greatest power and largest attainment lie in the perfect development of their organization. "woman," says a late writer, "must be regarded as woman, not as a nondescript animal, with greater or less capacity for assimilation to man." if we would give our girls a fair chance, and see them become and do their best by reaching after and attaining an ideal beauty and power, which shall be a crown of glory and a tower of strength to the republic, we must look after their complete development as women. wherein they are men, they should be educated as men; wherein they are women, they should be educated as women. the physiological motto is, educate a man for manhood, a woman for womanhood, both for humanity. in this lies the hope of the race. perhaps it should be mentioned in this connection, that, throughout this paper, education is not used in the limited and technical sense of intellectual or mental training alone. by saying there is a boy's way of study and a girl's way of study, it is not asserted that the intellectual process which masters juvenal, german, or chemistry, is different for the two sexes. education is here intended to include what its etymology indicates, the drawing out and development of every part of the system; and this necessarily includes the whole manner of life, physical and psychical, during the educational period. "education," says worcester, "comprehends all that series of instruction and discipline which is intended to enlighten the understanding, correct the temper, and form the manners and habits, of youth, and fit them for usefulness in their future stations." it has been and is the misfortune of this country, and particularly of new england, that education, stripped of this, its proper signification, has popularly stood for studying, without regard to the physical training or no training that the schools afford. the cerebral processes by which the acquisition of knowledge is made are the same for each sex; but the mode of life which gives the finest nurture to the brain, and so enables those processes to yield their best result, is not the same for each sex. the best educational training for a boy is not the best for a girl, nor that for a girl best for a boy. the delicate bloom, early but rapidly fading beauty, and singular pallor of american girls and women have almost passed into a proverb. the first observation of a european that lands upon our shores is, that our women are a feeble race; and, if he is a physiological observer, he is sure to add, they will give birth to a feeble race, not of women only, but of men as well. "i never saw before so many pretty girls together," said lady amberley to the writer, after a visit to the public schools of boston; and then added, "they all looked sick." circumstances have repeatedly carried me to europe, where i am always surprised by the red blood that fills and colors the faces of ladies and peasant girls, reminding one of the canvas of rubens and murillo; and am always equally surprised on my return, by crowds of pale, bloodless female faces, that suggest consumption, scrofula, anemia, and neuralgia. to a large extent, our present system of educating girls is the cause of this palor and weakness. how our schools, through their methods of education, contribute to this unfortunate result, and how our colleges that have undertaken to educate girls like boys, that is, in the same way, have succeeded in intensifying the evils of the schools, will be pointed out in another place. it has just been said that the educational methods of our schools and colleges for girls are, to a large extent, the cause of "the thousand ills" that beset american women. let it be remembered that this is not asserting that such methods of education are the sole cause of female weaknesses, but only that they are one cause, and one of the most important causes of it. an immense loss of female power may be fairly charged to irrational cooking and indigestible diet. we live in the zone of perpetual pie and dough-nut; and our girls revel in those unassimilable abominations. much also may be credited to artificial deformities strapped to the spine, or piled on the head, much to corsets and skirts, and as much to the omission of clothing where it is needed as to excess where the body does not require it; but, after the amplest allowance for these as causes of weakness, there remains a large margin of disease unaccounted for. those grievous maladies which torture a woman's earthly existence, called leucorrhoea, amenorrhoea, dysmenorrhoea, chronic and acute ovaritis, prolapsus uteri, hysteria, neuralgia, and the like, are indirectly affected by food, clothing, and exercise; they are directly and largely affected by the causes that will be presently pointed out, and which arise from a neglect of the peculiarities of a woman's organization. the regimen of our schools fosters this neglect. the regimen of a college arranged for boys, if imposed on girls, would foster it still more. the scope of this paper does not permit the discussion of these other causes of female weaknesses. its object is to call attention to the errors of physical training that have crept into, and twined themselves about, our ways of educating girls, both in public and private schools, and which now threaten to attain a larger development, and inflict a consequently greater injury, by their introduction into colleges and large seminaries of learning, that have adopted, or are preparing to adopt, the co-education of the sexes. even if there were space to do so, it would not be necessary to discuss here the other causes alluded to. they are receiving the amplest attention elsewhere. the gifted authoress of "the gates ajar" has blown her trumpet with no uncertain sound, in explanation and advocacy of a new-clothes philosophy, which her sisters will do well to heed rather than to ridicule. it would be a blessing to the race, if some inspired prophet of clothes would appear, who should teach the coming woman how, in pharmaceutical phrase, to fit, put on, wear, and take off her dress,-- "cito, tuto, et jucunde." corsets that embrace the waist with a grip that tightens respiration into pain, and skirts that weight the hips with heavier than maternal burdens, have often caused grievous maladies, and imposed a needless invalidism. yet, recognizing all this, it must not be forgotten that breeches do not make a man, nor the want of them unmake a woman. let the statement be emphasized and reiterated until it is heeded, that woman's neglect of her own organization, though not the sole explanation and cause of her many weaknesses, more than any single cause, adds to their number, and intensifies their power. it limits and lowers her action very much, as man is limited and degraded by dissipation. the saddest part of it all is, that this neglect of herself in girlhood, when her organization is ductile and impressible, breeds the germs of diseases that in later life yield torturing or fatal maladies. every physician's note-book affords copious illustrations of these statements. the number of them which the writer has seen prompted this imperfect essay upon a subject in which the public has a most vital interest, and with regard to which it acts with the courage of ignorance. two considerations deserve to be mentioned in this connection. one is, that no organ or function in plant, animal, or human kind, can be properly regarded as a disability or source of weakness. through ignorance or misdirection, it may limit or enfeeble the animal or being that misguides it; but, rightly guided and developed, it is either in itself a source of power and grace to its parent stock, or a necessary stage in the development of larger grace and power. the female organization is no exception to this law; nor are the particular set of organs and their functions with which this essay has to deal an exception to it. the periodical movements which characterize and influence woman's structure for more than half her terrestrial life, and which, in their ebb and flow, sway every fibre and thrill every nerve of her body a dozen times a year, and the occasional pregnancies which test her material resources, and cradle the race, are, or are evidently intended to be, fountains of power, not hinderances, to her. they are not infrequently spoken of by women themselves with half-smothered anathemas; often endured only as a necessary evil and sign of inferiority; and commonly ignored, till some steadily-advancing malady whips the recalcitrant sufferer into acknowledgment of their power, and respect for their function. all this is a sad mistake. it is a foolish and criminal delicacy that has persuaded woman to be so ashamed of the temple god built for her as to neglect one of its most important services. on account of this neglect, each succeeding generation, obedient to the law of hereditary transmission, has become feebler than its predecessor. our great-grandmothers are pointed at as types of female physical excellence; their great-grand-daughters as illustrations of female physical degeneracy. there is consolation, however, in the hope, based on substantial physiological data, that our great-grand-daughters may recapture their ancestors' bloom and force. "three generations of wholesome life," says mr. greg, "might suffice to eliminate the ancestral poison, for the _vis medicatrix naturæ_ has wonderful efficacy when allowed free play; and perhaps the time may come when the worst cases shall deem it a plain duty to curse no future generations with the _damnosa hereditas_, which has caused such bitter wretchedness to themselves."[ ] the second consideration is the acknowledged influence of beauty. "when one sees a god-like countenance," said socrates to phædrus, "or some bodily form that represents beauty, he reverences it as a god, and would sacrifice to it." from the days of plato till now, all have felt the power of woman's beauty, and been more than willing to sacrifice to it. the proper, not exclusive search for it is a legitimate inspiration. the way for a girl to obtain her portion of this radiant halo is by the symmetrical development of every part of her organization, muscle, ovary, stomach and nerve, and by a physiological management of every function that correlates every organ; not by neglecting or trying to stifle or abort any of the vital and integral parts of her structure, and supplying the deficiency by invoking the aid of the milliner's stuffing, the colorist's pencil, the druggist's compounds, the doctor's pelvic supporter, and the surgeon's spinal brace. when travelling in the east, some years ago, it was my fortune to be summoned as a physician into a harem. with curious and not unwilling step i obeyed the summons. while examining the patient, nearly a dozen syrian girls--a grave turk's wifely crowd, a result and illustration of mohammedan female education--pressed around the divan with eyes and ears intent to see and hear a western hakim's medical examination. as i looked upon their well-developed forms, their brown skins, rich with the blood and sun of the east, and their unintelligent, sensuous faces, i thought that if it were possible to marry the oriental care of woman's organization to the western liberty and culture of her brain, there would be a new birth and loftier type of womanly grace and force. footnotes: [ ] woman's wrongs, p. . [ ] enigmas of life, p. . part ii. chiefly physiological. "she girdeth her loins with strength."--solomon. before describing the special forms of ill that exist among our american, certainly among our new-england girls and women, and that are often caused and fostered by our methods of education and social customs, it is important to refer in considerable detail to a few physiological matters. physiology serves to disclose the cause, and explain the _modus operandi_, of these ills, and offers the only rational clew to their prevention and relief. the order in which the physiological data are presented that bear upon this discussion is not essential; their relation to the subject matter of it will be obvious as we proceed. the sacred number, three, dominates the human frame. there is a trinity in our anatomy. three systems, to which all the organs are directly or indirectly subsidiary, divide and control the body. first, there is the nutritive system, composed of stomach, intestines, liver, pancreas, glands, and vessels, by which food is elaborated, effete matter removed, the blood manufactured, and the whole organization nourished. this is the commissariat. secondly, there is the nervous system, which co-ordinates all the organs and functions; which enables man to entertain relations with the world around him, and with his fellows; and through which intellectual power is manifested, and human thought and reason made possible. thirdly, there is the reproductive system, by which the race is continued, and its grasp on the earth assured. the first two of these systems are alike in each sex. they are so alike, that they require a similar training in each, and yield in each a similar result. the machinery of them is the same. no scalpel has disclosed any difference between a man's and a woman's liver. no microscope has revealed any structure, fibre, or cell, in the brain of man or woman, that is not common to both. no analysis or dynamometer has discovered or measured any chemical action or nerve-force that stamps either of these systems as male or female. from these anatomical and physiological data alone, the inference is legitimate, that intellectual power, the correlation and measure of cerebral structure and metamorphosis, is capable of equal development in both sexes. with regard to the reproductive system, the case is altogether different. woman, in the interest of the race, is dowered with a set of organs peculiar to herself, whose complexity, delicacy, sympathies, and force are among the marvels of creation. if properly nurtured and cared for, they are a source of strength and power to her. if neglected and mismanaged, they retaliate upon their possessor with weakness and disease, as well of the mind as of the body. god was not in error, when, after eve's creation, he looked upon his work, and pronounced it good. let eve take a wise care of the temple god made for her, and adam of the one made for him, and both will enter upon a career whose glory and beauty no seer has foretold or poet sung. ever since the time of hippocrates, woman has been physiologically described as enjoying, and has always recognized herself as enjoying, or at least as possessing, a tri-partite life. the first period extends from birth to about the age of twelve or fifteen years; the second, from the end of the first period to about the age of forty-five; and the third, from the last boundary to the final passage into the unknown. the few years that are necessary for the voyage from the first to the second period, and those from the second to the third, are justly called critical ones. mothers are, or should be, wisely anxious about the first passage for their daughters, and women are often unduly apprehensive about the second passage for themselves. all this is obvious and known; and yet, in our educational arrangements, little heed is paid to the fact, that the first of these critical voyages is made during a girl's educational life, and extends over a very considerable portion of it. this brief statement only hints at the vital physiological truths it contains: it does not disclose them. let us look at some of them a moment. remember, that we are now concerned only with the first of these passages, that from a girl's childhood to her maturity. in childhood, boys and girls are very nearly alike. if they are natural, they talk and romp, chase butterflies and climb fences, love and hate, with an innocent _abandon_ that is ignorant of sex. yet even then the difference is apparent to the observing. inspired by the divine instinct of motherhood, the girl that can only creep to her mother's knees will caress a doll, that her tottling brother looks coldly upon. the infant achilles breaks the thin disguise of his gown and sleeves by dropping the distaff, and grasping the sword. as maturity approaches, the sexes diverge. an unmistakable difference marks the form and features of each, and reveals the demand for a special training. this divergence, however, is limited in its sweep and its duration. the difference exists for a definite purpose, and goes only to a definite extent. the curves of separation swell out as childhood recedes, like an ellipse, and, as old age draws on, approach, till they unite like an ellipse again. in old age, the second childhood, the difference of sex becomes of as little note as it was during the first. at that period, the picture of the "lean and slippered pantaloon, with spectacles on nose, and pouch on side, * * * * * sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans every thing," is faithful to either sex. not as man or woman, but as a sexless being, does advanced age enter and pass the portals of what is called death. during the first of these critical periods, when the divergence of the sexes becomes obvious to the most careless observer, the complicated apparatus peculiar to the female enters upon a condition of functional activity. "the ovaries, which constitute," says dr. dalton, "the 'essential parts'[ ] of this apparatus, and certain accessory organs, are now rapidly developed." previously they were inactive. during infancy and childhood all of them existed, or rather all the germs of them existed; but they were incapable of function. at this period they take on a process of rapid growth and development. coincident with this process, indicating it, and essential to it, are the periodical phenomena which characterize woman's physique till she attains the third division of her tripartite life. the growth of this peculiar and marvellous apparatus, in the perfect development of which humanity has so large an interest, occurs during the few years of a girl's educational life. no such extraordinary task, calling for such rapid expenditure of force, building up such a delicate and extensive mechanism within the organism,--a house within a house, an engine within an engine,--is imposed upon the male physique at the same epoch.[ ] the organization of the male grows steadily, gradually, and equally, from birth to maturity. the importance of having our methods of female education recognize this peculiar demand for growth, and of so adjusting themselves to it, as to allow a sufficient opportunity for the healthy development of the ovaries and their accessory organs, and for the establishment of their periodical functions, cannot be overestimated. moreover, unless the work is accomplished at that period, unless the reproductive mechanism is built and put in good working order at that time, it is never perfectly accomplished afterwards. "it is not enough," says dr. charles west, the accomplished london physician, and lecturer on diseases of women, "it is not enough to take precautions till menstruation has for the first time occurred: the period for its return should, even in the healthiest girl, be watched for, and all previous precautions should be once more repeated; and this should be done again and again, until at length the _habit_ of regular, healthy menstruation is established. if this be not accomplished during the first few years of womanhood, it will, in all probability, never be attained."[ ] there have been instances, and i have seen such, of females in whom the special mechanism we are speaking of remained germinal,--undeveloped. it seemed to have been aborted. they graduated from school or college excellent scholars, but with undeveloped ovaries. later they married, and were sterile.[ ] the system never does two things well at the same time. the muscles and the brain cannot _functionate_ in their best way at the same moment. one cannot meditate a poem and drive a saw simultaneously, without dividing his force. he may poetize fairly, and saw poorly; or he may saw fairly, and poetize poorly; or he may both saw and poetize indifferently. brain-work and stomach-work interfere with each other if attempted together. the digestion of a dinner calls force to the stomach, and temporarily slows the brain. the experiment of trying to digest a hearty supper, and to sleep during the process, has sometimes cost the careless experimenter his life. the physiological principle of doing only one thing at a time, if you would do it well, holds as truly of the growth of the organization as it does of the performance of any of its special functions. if excessive labor, either mental or physical, is imposed upon children, male or female, their development will be in some way checked. if the schoolmaster overworks the brains of his pupils, he diverts force to the brain that is needed elsewhere. he spends in the study of geography and arithmetic, of latin, greek and chemistry, in the brain-work of the school room, force that should have been spent in the manufacture of blood, muscle, and nerve, that is, in growth. the results are monstrous brains and puny bodies; abnormally active cerebration, and abnormally weak digestion; flowing thought and constipated bowels; lofty aspirations and neuralgic sensations; "a youth of study an old age of _nerves_." nature has reserved the catamenial week for the process of ovulation, and for the development and perfectation of the reproductive system. previously to the age of eighteen or twenty, opportunity must be periodically allowed for the accomplishment of this task. both muscular and brain labor must be remitted enough to yield sufficient force for the work. if the reproductive machinery is not manufactured then, it will not be later. if it is imperfectly made then, it can only be patched up, not made perfect, afterwards. to be well made, it must be carefully managed. force must be allowed to flow thither in an ample stream, and not diverted to the brain by the school, or to the arms by the factory, or to the feet by dancing. "every physician," says a recent writer, "can point to students whose splendid cerebral development has been paid for by emaciated limbs, enfeebled digestion, and disordered lungs. every biography of the intellectual great records the dangers they have encountered, often those to which they have succumbed, in overstepping the ordinary bounds of human capacity; and while beckoning onward to the glories of their almost preternatural achievements, register, by way of warning, the fearful penalty of disease, suffering, and bodily infirmity, which nature exacts as the price for this partial and inharmonious grandeur. it cannot be otherwise. the brain cannot take more than its share without injury to other organs. it cannot _do_ more than its share without depriving other organs of that exercise and nourishment which are essential to their health and vigor. it is in the power of the individual to throw, as it were, the whole vigor of the constitution into any one part, and, by giving to this part exclusive or excessive attention, to develop it at the expense, and to the neglect, of the others."[ ] in the system of lichens, nylander reckons all organs of equal value.[ ] no one of them can be neglected without evil to the whole organization. from lichens to men and women there is no exception to the law, that, if one member suffers, all the members suffer. what is true of the neglect of a single organ, is true in a geometrical ratio of the neglect of a system of organs. if the nutritive system is wrong, the evil of poor nourishment and bad assimilation infects the whole economy. brain and thought are enfeebled, because the stomach and liver are in error. if the nervous system is abnormally developed, every organ feels the _twist_ in the nerves. the balance and co-ordination of movement and function are destroyed, and the ill percolates into an unhappy posterity. if the reproductive system is aborted, there may be no future generations to pay the penalty of the abortion, but what is left of the organism suffers sadly. when this sort of arrest of development occurs in a man, it takes the element of masculineness out of him, and replaces it with adipose effeminacy. when it occurs in a woman, it not only substitutes in her case a wiry and perhaps thin bearded masculineness for distinctive feminine traits and power, making her an epicene, but it entails a variety of prolonged weaknesses, that dwarf her rightful power in almost every direction. the persistent neglect and ignoring by women, and especially by girls, ignorantly more than wilfully, of that part of their organization which they hold in trust for the future of the race, has been fearfully punished here in america, where, of all the world, they are least trammelled and should be the best, by all sorts of female troubles. "nature," says lord bacon, "is often hidden, sometimes overcome, seldom extinguished." in the education of our girls, the attempt to hide or overcome nature by training them as boys has almost extinguished them as girls. let the fact be accepted, that there is nothing to be ashamed of in a woman's organization, and let her whole education and life be guided by the divine requirements of her system. the blood, which is our life, is a complex fluid. it contains the materials out of which the tissues are made, and also the _débris_ which results from the destruction of the same tissues,--the worn-out cells of brain and muscle,--the cast-off clothes of emotion, thought, and power. it is a common carrier, conveying unceasingly to every gland and tissue, to every nerve and organ, the fibrin and albumen which repair their constant waste, thus supplying their daily bread; and as unceasingly conveying away from every gland and tissue, from every nerve and organ, the oxidized refuse, which are both the result and measure of their work. like the water flowing through the canals of venice, that carries health and wealth to the portals of every house, and filth and disease from every doorway, the blood flowing through the canals of the organization carries nutriment to all the tissues, and refuse from them. its current sweeps nourishment in, and waste out. the former, it yields to the body for assimilation; the latter, it deposits with the organs of elimination for rejection. in order to have good blood, then, two things are essential: first, a regular and sufficient supply of nutriment, and, secondly, an equally regular and sufficient removal of waste. insufficient nourishment starves the blood; insufficient elimination poisons it. a wise housekeeper will look as carefully after the condition of his drains as after the quality of his food. the principal organs of elimination, common to both sexes, are the bowels, kidneys, lungs, and skin. a neglect of their functions is punished in each alike. to woman is intrusted the exclusive management of another process of elimination, viz., the catamenial function. this, using the blood for its channel of operation, performs, like the blood, double duty. it is necessary to ovulation, and to the integrity of every part of the reproductive apparatus; it also serves as a means of elimination for the blood itself. a careless management of this function, at any period of life during its existence, is apt to be followed by consequences that may be serious; but a neglect of it during the epoch of development, that is, from the age of fourteen to eighteen or twenty, not only produces great evil at the time of the neglect, but leaves a large legacy of evil to the future. the system is then peculiarly susceptible; and disturbances of the delicate mechanism we are considering, induced during the catamenial weeks of that critical age by constrained positions, muscular effort, brain work, and all forms of mental and physical excitement, germinate a host of ills. sometimes these causes, which pervade more or less the methods of instruction in our public and private schools, which our social customs ignore, and to which operatives of all sorts pay little heed, produce an excessive performance of the catamenial function; and this is equivalent to a periodical hemorrhage. sometimes they produce an insufficient performance of it; and this, by closing an avenue of elimination, poisons the blood, and depraves the organization. the host of ills thus induced are known to physicians and to the sufferers as amenorrhoea, menorrhagia, dysmenorrhoea, hysteria, anemia, chorea, and the like. some of these fasten themselves on their victim for a lifetime, and some are shaken off. now and then they lead to an abortion of the function, and consequent sterility. fortunate is the girls' school or college that does not furnish abundant examples of these sad cases. the more completely any such school or college succeeds, while adopting every detail and method of a boy's school, in ignoring and neglecting the physiological conditions of sexual development, the larger will be the number of these pathological cases among its graduates. clinical illustrations of these statements will be given in another place. the mysterious process which physiologists call metamorphosis of tissue, or intestitial change, deserves attention in connection with our subject. it interests both sexes alike. unless it goes on normally, neither boys, girls, men, nor women, can have bodies or brains worth talking about. it is a process, without which not a step can be taken, or muscle moved, or food digested, or nutriment assimilated, or any function, physical or mental, performed. by its aid, growth and development are carried on. youth, maturity, and old age result from changes in its character. it is alike the support and the guide of health convalescence, and disease. it is the means by which, in the human system, force is developed, and growth and decay rendered possible. the process, in itself, is one of the simplest. it is merely the replacing of one microscopic cell by another; and yet upon this simple process hang the issues of life and death, of thought and power. carpenter, in his physiology, reports the discovery, which we owe to german investigation, "that the whole structure originates in a single cell; that this cell gives birth to others, analogous to itself, and these again to many future generations; and that all the varied tissues of the animal body are developed from cells."[ ] a more recent writer adds, "in the higher animals and plants, we are presented with structures which may be regarded as essentially aggregates of cells; and there is now a physiological division of labor, some of the cells being concerned with the nutriment of the organism, whilst others are set apart, and dedicated to the function of reproduction. every cell in such an aggregate leads a life, which, in a certain limited sense, may be said to be independent; and each discharges its own function in the general economy. each cell has a period of development, growth, and active life, and each ultimately perishes; the life of the organism not only not depending upon the life of its elemental factors, but actually being kept up by their constant destruction and as constant renewal."[ ] growth, health, and disease are cellular manifestations. with every act of life, the movement of a finger, the pulsation of a heart, the uttering of a word, the coining of a thought, the thrill of an emotion, there is the destruction of a certain number of cells. their destruction evolves or sets free the force that we recognize as movement, speech, thought, and emotion. the number of cells destroyed depends upon the intensity and duration of the effort that correlates their destruction. when a blacksmith wields a hammer for an hour, he uses up the number of cells necessary to yield that amount of muscular force. when a girl studies latin for an hour, she uses up the number of brain-cells necessary to yield that amount of intellectual force. as fast as one cell is destroyed, another is generated. the death of one is followed instantly by the birth of its successor. this continual process of cellular death and birth, the income and outgo of cells, that follow each other like the waves of the sea, each different yet each the same, is metamorphosis of tissue. this is life. it corresponds very nearly to bichat's definition that, "life is organization in action." the finer sense of shakspeare dictated a truer definition than the science of the french physiologist,-- "what's yet in this that bears the name of life? yet in this life lie hid more thousand deaths." _measure for measure_, act iii. scene . no physical or psychical act is possible without this change. it is a process of continual waste and repair. subject to its inevitable power, the organization is continually wasting away and continually being repaired. the old notion that our bodies are changed every seven years, science has long since exploded. "the matter," said mr. john goodsir, "of the organized frame to its minutest parts is in a continual flux." our bodies are never the same for any two successive days. the feet that mary shall dance with next christmas eve will not be the same feet that bore her triumphantly through the previous christmas holidays. the brain that she learns german with to-day does not contain a cell in its convolutions that was spent in studying french one year ago. whether her present feet can dance better or worse than those of a year ago, and whether her present brain can _do_ more or less german and french than the one of the year before, depends upon how she has used her feet and brain during the intervening time, that is, upon the metamorphosis of her tissue. from birth to adult age, the cells of muscle, organ, and brain that are spent in the activities of life, such as digesting, growing, studying, playing, working, and the like, are replaced by others of better quality and larger number. at least, such is the case where metamorphosis is permitted to go on normally. the result is growth and development. this growing period or formative epoch extends from birth to the age of twenty or twenty-five years. its duration is shorter for a girl than for a boy. she ripens quicker than he. in the four years from fourteen to eighteen, she accomplishes an amount of physiological cell change and growth which nature does not require of a boy in less than twice that number of years. it is obvious, that to secure the best kind of growth during this period, and the best development at the end of it, the waste of tissue produced by study, work, and fashion must not be so great that repair will only equal it. it is equally obvious that a girl upon whom nature, for a limited period and for a definite purpose, imposes so great a physiological task, will not have as much power left for the tasks of the school, as the boy of whom nature requires less at the corresponding epoch. a margin must be allowed for growth. the repair must be greater and better than the waste. during middle age, life's active period, there is an equilibrium between the body's waste and repair: one equals the other. the machine, when properly managed, then holds its own. a french physiologist fixes the close of this period for the ideal man of the future at eighty, when, he says, old age begins. few have such inherited power, and live with such physiological wisdom, as to keep their machine in good repair,--in good working-order,--to that late period. from the age of twenty-five or thirty, however, to that of sixty or sixty-five, this equilibrium occurs. repair then equals waste; reconstruction equals destruction. the female organization, like the male, is now developed: its tissues are consolidated; its functions are established. with decent care, it can perform an immense amount of physical and mental labor. it is now capable of its best work. but, in order to do its best, it must obey the law of periodicity; just as the male organization, to do its best, must obey the law of sustained effort. when old age begins, whether, normally, at seventy or eighty, or, prematurely, at fifty or thirty, repair does not equal waste, and degeneration of tissue results. more cells are destroyed by wear and tear than are made up from nutriment. the friction of the machine rubs the stuff of life away faster than it can be replaced. the muscles stiffen, the hair turns white, the joints crack, the arteries ossify, the nerve-centres harden or soften: all sorts of degeneration creep on till death appears,--_mors janua vitæ._ there the curves unite, and men and women are alike again. sleep, whose inventor received the benediction of sancho panza, and whose power dryden apostrophized,-- "of all the powers the best: oh! peace of mind, repairer of decay, whose balm renews the limbs to labor of the day,"-- is a most important physiological factor. our schools are as apt in frightening it away as our churches are in inviting it. sleep is the opportunity for repair. during its hours of quiet rest, when muscular and nervous effort are stilled, millions of microscopic cells are busy in the penetralia of the organism, like coral insects in the depths of the sea, repairing the waste which the day's study and work have caused. dr. b.w. richardson of london, one of the most ingenious and accomplished physiologists of the present day, describes the labor of sleep in the following language: "during this period of natural sleep, the most important changes of nutrition are in progress: the body is renovating, and, if young, is actually growing. if the body be properly covered, the animal heat is being conserved, and laid up for expenditure during the waking hours that are to follow; the respiration is reduced, the inspirations being lessened in the proportion of six to seven, as compared with the number made when the body is awake; the action of the heart is reduced; the voluntary muscles, relieved of all fatigue, and with the extensors more relaxed than the flexors, are undergoing repair of structure, and recruiting their excitability; and the voluntary nervous system, dead for the time to the external vibration, or, as the older men called it, 'stimulus' from without, is also undergoing rest and repair, so that, when it comes again into work, it may receive better the impressions it may have to gather up, and influence more effectively the muscles it may be called upon to animate, direct, control."[ ] an american observer and physiologist, dr. william a. hammond, confirms the views of his english colleague. he tells us that "the state of general repose which accompanies sleep is of especial value to the organism, in allowing the nutrition of the nervous tissue to go on at a greater rate than its destructive metamorphosis." in another place he adds, "for the brain, there is no rest except during sleep." and, again, he says, "the more active the mind, the greater the necessity for sleep; just as with a steamer, the greater the number of revolutions its engine makes, the more imperative is the demand for fuel."[ ] these statements justify and explain the instinctive demand for sleep. they also show why it is that infants require more sleep than children, and children than middle-age folk, and middle-age folk than old people. infants must have sleep for repair and rapid growth; children, for repair and moderate growth; middle-age folk, for repair without growth; and old people, only for the minimum of repair. girls, between the ages of fourteen and eighteen, must have sleep, not only for repair and growth, like boys, but for the additional task of constructing, or, more properly speaking, of developing and perfecting then, a reproductive system,--the engine within an engine. the bearing of this physiological fact upon education is obvious. work of the school is work of the brain. work of the brain eats the brain away. sleep is the chance and laboratory of repair. if a child's brain-work and sleep are normally proportioned to each other, each night will more than make good each day's loss. clear heads will greet each welcome morn. but if the reverse occurs, the night will not repair the day; and aching heads will signalize the advance of neuralgia, tubercle, and disease. so nature punishes disobedience. it is apparent, from these physiological considerations, that, in order to give girls a fair chance in education, four conditions at least must be observed: first, a sufficient supply of appropriate nutriment; secondly, a normal management of the catamenial functions, including the building of the reproductive apparatus; thirdly, mental and physical work so apportioned, that repair shall exceed waste, and a margin be left for general and sexual development; and fourthly, sufficient sleep. evidence of the results brought about by a disregard of these conditions will next be given. footnotes: [ ] human physiology, p. . [ ] as might be expected, the mortality of girls is greater at this period than that of boys, an additional reason for imposing less labor on the former at that time. according to the authority of mm. quetelet and smits, the mortality of the two sexes is equal in childhood, or that of the male is greatest; but that of the female rises between the ages of fourteen and sixteen to . to one male death. for the next four years, it falls again to . females to one male death.--_sur la reproduction et la mortalité de l'homme. vo. bruxelles._ [ ] lectures on diseases of women. am. ed., p. . [ ] "much less uncommon than the absence of either ovary is the persistence of both through the whole or greater part of life in the condition which they present in infancy and early childhood, with scarcely a trace of graafian vesicles in their tissue. this want of development of the ovaries is generally, though not invariably, associated with want of development of the uterus and other sexual organs; and i need not say that women in whom it exists are sterile."--_lectures on the diseases of women, by charles west, m.d. am. ed., p. ._ [ ] enigmas of life, pp. - . [ ] tuckerman's genera lichenum, introduction, p. v. [ ] carpenter's human physiology, p. . [ ] nicholson, study of biology, p. . [ ] popular science monthly, august, , p. . [ ] sleep and its derangements, pp. , , . part iii. chiefly clinical. "et l'on nous persuadera difficilement que lorsque les hommes ont tant de peine à être hommes, les femmes puissent, tout en restant femmes, devenir hommes aussi, mettant ainsi la main sur les deux rôles, exerçant la double mission, résumant le double caractère de l'humanité! nous perdrons la femme, et nous n'aurons pas l'homme. voila ce qui nous arrivera. on nous donnera ce quelque chose de monstreux, cet être répugnant, qui déjà parait à notre horizon."--le comte a. de gasparin. "facts given in evidence are premises from which a conclusion is to be drawn. the first step in the exercise of this duty is to acquire a belief of the truth of the facts."--ram, _on facts_. clinical observation confirms the teachings of physiology. the sick chamber, not the schoolroom; the physician's private consultation, not the committee's public examination; the hospital, not the college, the workshop, or the parlor,--disclose the sad results which modern social customs, modern education, and modern ways of labor, have entailed on women. examples of them may be found in every walk of life. on the luxurious couches of beacon street; in the palaces of fifth avenue; among the classes of our private, common, and normal schools; among the female graduates of our colleges; behind the counters of washington street and broadway; in our factories, workshops, and homes,--may be found numberless pale, weak, neuralgic, dyspeptic, hysterical, menorrhagic, dysmenorrhoeic girls and women, that are living illustrations of the truth of this brief monograph. it is not asserted here that improper methods of study, and a disregard of the reproductive apparatus and its functions, during the educational life of girls, are the sole causes of female diseases; neither is it asserted that all the female graduates of our schools and colleges are pathological specimens. but it is asserted that the number of these graduates who have been permanently disabled to a greater or less degree by these causes is so great, as to excite the gravest alarm, and to demand the serious attention of the community. if these causes should continue for the next half-century, and increase in the same ratio as they have for the last fifty years, it requires no prophet to foretell that the wives who are to be mothers in our republic must be drawn from trans-atlantic homes. the sons of the new world will have to re-act, on a magnificent scale, the old story of unwived rome and the sabines. we have previously seen that the blood is the life, and that the loss of it is the loss of so much life. deluded by strange theories, and groping in physiological darkness, our fathers' physicians were too often sangrados. nourishing food, pure air, and hæmatized blood were stigmatized as the friends of disease and the enemies of convalescence. oxygen was shut out from and carbonic acid shut into the chambers of phthisis and fever; and veins were opened, that the currents of blood and disease might flow out together. happily, those days of ignorance, which god winked at, and which the race survived, have passed by. air and food and blood are recognized as nature's restoratives. no physician would dare, nowadays, to bleed either man or woman once a month, year in and year out, for a quarter of a century continuously. but girls often have the courage, or the ignorance, to do this to themselves. and the worst of it is, that the organization of our schools and workshops, and the demands of social life and polite society, encourage them in this slow suicide. it has already been stated that the excretory organs, by constantly eliminating from the system its effete and used material, the measure and source of its force, keep the machine in clean, healthy, and working order, and that the reproductive apparatus of woman uses the blood as one of its agents of elimination. kept within natural limits, this elimination is a source of strength, a perpetual fountain of health, a constant renewal of life. beyond these limits it is a hemorrhage, that, by draining away the life, becomes a source of weakness and a perpetual fountain of disease. the following case illustrates one of the ways in which our present school methods of teaching girls generate a menorrhagia and its consequent evils. miss a----, a healthy, bright, intelligent girl, entered a female school, an institution that is commonly but oddly called a _seminary_ for girls, in the state of new york, at the age of fifteen. she was then sufficiently well-developed, and had a good color; all the functions appeared to act normally, and the catamenia were fairly established. she was ambitious as well as capable, and aimed to be among the first in the school. her temperament was what physiologists call nervous,--an expression that does not denote a fidgety make, but refers to a relative activity of the nervous system. she was always anxious about her recitations. no matter how carefully she prepared for them, she was ever fearful lest she should trip a little, and appear to less advantage than she hoped. she went to school regularly every week, and every day of the school year, just as boys do. she paid no more attention to the periodical tides of her organization than her companions; and that was none at all. she recited standing at all times, or at least whenever a standing recitation was the order of the hour. she soon found, and this history is taken from her own lips, that for a few days during every fourth week, the effort of reciting produced an extraordinary physical result. the attendant anxiety and excitement relaxed the sluices of the system that were already physiologically open, and determined a hemorrhage as the concomitant of a recitation. subjected to the inflexible rules of the school, unwilling to seek advice from any one, almost ashamed of her own physique, she ingeniously protected herself against exposure, and went on intellectually leading her companions, and physically defying nature. at the end of a year, she went home with a gratifying report from her teachers, and pale cheeks and a variety of aches. her parents were pleased, and perhaps a little anxious. she is a good scholar, said her father; somewhat over-worked possibly; and so he gave her a trip among the mountains, and a week or two at the seashore. after her vacation she returned to school, and repeated the previous year's experience,--constant, sustained work, recitation and study for all days alike, a hemorrhage once a month that would make the stroke oar of the university crew falter, and a brilliant scholar. before the expiration of the second year, nature began to assert her authority. the paleness of miss a's complexion increased. an unaccountable and uncontrollable twitching of a rhythmical sort got into the muscles of her face, and made her hands go and feet jump. she was sent home, and her physician called, who at once diagnosticated chorea (st. vitus' dance), and said she had studied too hard, and wisely prescribed no study and a long vacation. her parents took her to europe. a year of the sea and the alps, of england and the continent, the rhine and italy, worked like a charm. the sluiceways were controlled, the blood saved, and color and health returned. she came back seemingly well, and at the age of eighteen went to her old school once more. during all this time not a word had been said to her by her parents, her physician, or her teachers, about any periodical care of herself; and the rules of the school did not acknowledge the catamenia. the labor and regimen of the school soon brought on the old menorrhagic trouble in the old way, with the addition of occasional faintings to emphasize nature's warnings. she persisted in getting her education, however, and graduated at nineteen, the first scholar, and an invalid. again her parents were gratified and anxious. she is overworked, said they, and wondered why girls break down so. to insure her recovery, a second and longer travel was undertaken. egypt and asia were added to europe, and nearly two years were allotted to the cure. with change of air and scene her health improved, but not so rapidly as with the previous journey. she returned to america better than she went away, and married at the age of twenty-two. soon after that time she consulted the writer on account of prolonged dyspepsia, neuralgia, and dysmenorrhoea, which had replaced menorrhagia. then i learned the long history of her education, and of her efforts to study just as boys do. her attention had never been called before to the danger she had incurred while at school. she is now what is called getting better, but has the delicacy and weaknesses of american women, and, so far, is without children. it is not difficult, in this case, either to discern the cause of the trouble, or to trace its influence, through the varying phases of disease, from miss a----'s school-days, to her matronly life. she was well, and would have been called robust, up to her first critical period. she then had two tasks imposed upon her at once, both of which required for their perfect accomplishment a few years of time and a large share of vital force: one was the education of the brain, the other of the reproductive system. the schoolmaster superintended the first, and nature the second. the school, with puritanic inflexibility, demanded every day of the month; nature, kinder than the school, demanded less than a fourth of the time,--a seventh or an eighth of it would have probably answered. the schoolmaster might have yielded somewhat, but would not; nature could not. the pupil, therefore, was compelled to undertake both tasks at the same time. ambitious, earnest, and conscientious, she obeyed the visible power and authority of the school, and disobeyed, or rather ignorantly sought to evade, the invisible power and authority of her organization. she put her will into the education of her brain, and withdrew it from elsewhere. the system does not do two things well at the same time. one or the other suffers from neglect, when the attempt is made. miss a---- made her brain and muscles work actively, and diverted blood and force to them when her organization demanded active work, with blood and force for evolution in another region. at first the schoolmaster seemed to be successful. he not only made his pupil's brain manipulate latin, chemistry, philosophy, geography, grammar, arithmetic, music, french, german, and the whole extraordinary catalogue of an american young lady's school curriculum, with acrobatic skill; but he made her do this irrespective of the periodical tides of her organism, and made her perform her intellectual and muscular calisthenics, obliging her to stand, walk, and recite, at the seasons of highest tide. for a while she got on nicely. presently, however, the strength of the loins, that even solomon put in as a part of his ideal woman, changed to weakness. periodical hemorrhages were the first warning of this. as soon as loss of blood occurred regularly and largely, the way to imperfect development and invalidism was open, and the progress easy and rapid. the nerves and their centres lacked nourishment. there was more waste than repair,--no margin for growth. st. vitus' dance was a warning not to be neglected, and the schoolmaster resigned to the doctor. a long vacation enabled the system to retrace its steps, and recover force for evolution. then the school resumed its sway, and physiological laws were again defied. fortunately graduation soon occurred, and unintermitted, sustained labor was no longer enforced. the menorrhagia ceased, but persistent dysmenorrhoea now indicates the neuralgic friction of an imperfectly developed reproductive apparatus. doubtless the evil of her education will infect her whole life. the next case is drawn from different social surroundings. early associations and natural aptitude inclined miss b---- to the stage; and the need of bread and butter sent her upon it as a child, at what age i do not know. at fifteen she was an actress, determined to do her best, and ambitious of success. she strenuously taxed muscle and brain at all times in her calling. she worked in a man's sustained way, ignoring all demands for special development, and essaying first to dis-establish, and then to bridle, the catamenia. at twenty she was eminent. the excitement and effort of acting periodically produced the same result with her that a recitation did under similar conditions with miss a----. if she had been a physiologist, she would have known how this course of action would end. as she was an actress, and not a physiologist, she persisted in the slow suicide of frequent hemorrhages, and encouraged them by her method of professional education, and later by her method of practising her profession. she tried to ward off disease, and repair the loss of force, by consulting various doctors, taking drugs, and resorting to all sorts of expedients; but the hemorrhages continued, and were repeated at irregular and abnormally frequent intervals. a careful local examination disclosed no local disturbance. there was neither ulceration, hypertrophy, or congestion of the os or cervix uteri; no displacement of any moment, of ovarian tenderness. in spite of all her difficulties, however, she worked on courageously and steadily in a man's way and with a woman's will. after a long and discouraging experience of doctors, work, and weaknesses, when rather over thirty years old, she came to boston to consult the writer, who learned at that time the details just recited. she was then pale and weak. a murmur in the veins, which a french savant, by way of dedication to the devil, christened _bruit de diable_, a baptismal name that science has retained, was audible over her jugulars, and a similar murmur over her heart. palpitation and labored respiration accompanied and impeded effort. she complained most of her head, which felt "queer," would not go to sleep as formerly, and often gave her turns, in which there was a mingling of dizziness, semi-consciousness, and fear. her education and work, or rather method of work, had wrought out for her anemia and epileptiform attacks. she got two or three physiological lectures, was ordered to take iron, and other nourishing food, allow time for sleep, and, above all, to arrange her professional work in harmony with the rhythmical or periodical action of woman's constitution. she made the effort to do this, and, in six months, reported herself in better health--though far from well--than she had been for six years before. this case scarcely requires analysis in order to see how it bears on the question of a girl's education and woman's work. a gifted and healthy girl, obliged to get her education and earn her bread at the same time, labored upon the two tasks zealously, perhaps over-much, and did this at the epoch when the female organization is busy with the development of its reproductive apparatus. nor is this all. she labored continuously, yielding nothing to nature's periodical demand for force. she worked her engine up to highest pressure, just as much at flood-tide as at other times. naturally there was not nervous power enough developed in the uterine and associated ganglia to restrain the laboring orifices of the circulation, to close the gates; and the flood of blood gushed through. with the frequent repetition of the flooding, came inevitably the evils she suffered from,--nature's penalties. she now reports herself better; but whether convalescence will continue will depend upon her method of work for the future. let us take the next illustration from a walk in life different from either of the foregoing. miss c---- was a bookkeeper in a mercantile house. the length of time she remained in the employ of the house, and its character, are a sufficient guaranty that she did her work well. like the other clerks, she was at her post, _standing_, during business hours, from monday morning till saturday night. the female pelvis being wider than that of the male, the weight of the body, in the upright posture, tends to press the upper extremities of the thighs out laterally in females more than in males. hence the former can stand less long with comfort than the latter. miss c----, however, believed in doing her work in a man's way, infected by the not uncommon notion that womanliness means manliness. moreover, she would not, or could not, make any more allowance for the periodicity of her organization than for the shape of her skeleton. when about twenty years of age, perhaps a year or so older, she applied to me for advice in consequence of neuralgia, back-ache, menorrhagia, leucorrhoea, and general debility. she was anemic, and looked pale, care-worn, and anxious. there was no evidence of any local organic affection of the pelvic organs. "get a woman's periodical remission from labor, if intermission is impossible, and do your work in a woman's way, not copying a man's fashion, and you will need very little apothecary's stuff," was the advice she received. "i _must_ go on as i am doing," was her answer. she tried iron, sitz-baths, and the like: of course they were of no avail. latterly i have lost sight of her, and, from her appearance at her last visit to me, presume she has gone to a world where back-ache and male and female skeletons are unknown. illustrations of this sort might be multiplied but these three are sufficient to show how an abnormal method of study and work may and does open the flood-gates of the system, and, by letting blood out, lets all sorts of evil in. let us now look at another phase; for menorrhagia and its consequences are not the only punishments that girls receive for being educated and worked just like boys. nature's methods of punishing men and women are as numerous as their organs and functions, and her penalties as infinite in number and gradation as her blessings. amenorrhoea is perhaps more common than menorrhagia. it often happens, however, during the first critical epoch, which is isochronal with the technical educational period of a girl, that after a few occasions of catamenial hemorrhage, moderate perhaps but still hemorrhage, which are not heeded, the conservative force of nature steps in, and saves the blood by arresting the function. in such instances, amenorrhoea is a result of menorrhagia. in this way, and in others that we need not stop to inquire into, the regimen of our schools, colleges, and social life, that requires girls to walk, work, stand, study, recite, and dance at all times as boys can and should, may shut the uterine portals of the blood up, and keep poison in, as well as open them, and let life out. which of these two evils is worse in itself, and which leaves the largest legacy of ills behind, it is difficult to say. let us examine some illustrations of this sort of arrest. miss d---- entered vassar college at the age of fourteen. up to that age, she had been a healthy girl, judged by the standard of american girls. her parents were apparently strong enough to yield her a fair dower of force. the catamenial function first showed signs of activity in her sophomore year, when she was fifteen years old. its appearance at this age[ ] is confirmatory evidence of the normal state of her health at that period of her college career. its commencement was normal, without pain or excess. she performed all her college duties regularly and steadily. she studied, recited, stood at the blackboard, walked, and went through her gymnastic exercises, from the beginning to the end of the term, just as boys do. her account of her regimen there was so nearly that of a boy's regimen, that it would puzzle a physiologist to determine, from the account alone, whether the subject of it was male or female. she was an average scholar, who maintained a fair position in her class, not one of the anxious sort, that are ambitious of leading all the rest. her first warning was fainting away, while exercising in the gymnasium, at a time when she should have been comparatively quiet, both mentally and physically. this warning was repeated several times, under the same circumstances. finally she was compelled to renounce gymnastic exercises altogether. in her junior year, the organism's periodical function began to be performed with pain, moderate at first, but more and more severe with each returning month. when between seventeen and eighteen years old, dysmenorrhoea was established as the order of that function. coincident with the appearance of pain, there was a diminution of excretion; and, as the former increased, the latter became more marked. in other respects she was well; and, in all respects, she appeared to be well to her companions and to the faculty of the college. she graduated before nineteen, with fair honors and a poor physique. the year succeeding her graduation was one of steadily-advancing invalidism. she was tortured for two or three days out of every month; and, for two or three days after each season of torture, was weak and miserable, so that about one sixth or fifth of her time was consumed in this way. the excretion from the blood, which had been gradually lessening, after a time substantially stopped, though a periodical effort to keep it up was made. she now suffered from what is called amenorrhoea. at the same time she became pale, hysterical, nervous in the ordinary sense, and almost constantly complained of headache. physicians were applied to for aid: drugs were administered; travelling, with consequent change of air and scene, was undertaken; and all with little apparent avail. after this experience, she was brought to boston for advice, when the writer first saw her, and learned all these details. she presented no evidence of local uterine congestion, inflammation, ulceration, or displacement. the evidence was altogether in favor of an arrest of the development of the reproductive apparatus, at a stage when the development was nearly complete. confirmatory proof of such an arrest was found in examining her breast, where the milliner had supplied the organs nature should have grown. it is unnecessary for our present purpose to detail what treatment was advised. it is sufficient to say, that she probably never will become physically what she would have been had her education been physiologically guided. this case needs very little comment: its teachings are obvious. miss d---- went to college in good physical condition. during the four years of her college life, her parents and the college faculty required her to get what is popularly called an education. nature required her, during the same period, to build and put in working-order a large and complicated reproductive mechanism, a matter that is popularly ignored,--shoved out of sight like a disgrace. she naturally obeyed the requirements of the faculty, which she could see, rather than the requirements of the mechanism within her, that she could not see. subjected to the college regimen, she worked four years in getting a liberal education. her way of work was sustained and continuous, and out of harmony with the rhythmical periodicity of the female organization. the stream of vital and constructive force evolved within her was turned steadily to the brain, and away from the ovaries and their accessories. the result of this sort of education was, that these last-mentioned organs, deprived of sufficient opportunity and nutriment, first began to perform their functions with pain, a warning of error that was unheeded; then, to cease to grow;[ ] next, to set up once a month a grumbling torture that made life miserable; and, lastly, the brain and the whole nervous system, disturbed, in obedience to the law, that, if one member suffers, all the members suffer, became neuralgic and hysterical. and so miss d---- spent the few years next succeeding her graduation in conflict with dysmenorrhoea, headache, neuralgia, and hysteria. her parents marvelled at her ill-health; and she furnished another text for the often-repeated sermon on the delicacy of american girls. it may not be unprofitable to give the history of one more case of this sort. miss e---- had an hereditary right to a good brain and to the best cultivation of it. her father was one of our ripest and broadest american scholars, and her mother one of our most accomplished american women. they both enjoyed excellent health. their daughter had a literary training,--an intellectual, moral, and æsthetic half of education, such as their supervision would be likely to give, and one that few young men of her age receive. her health did not seem to suffer at first. she studied, recited, walked, worked, stood, and the like, in the steady and sustained way that is normal to the male organization. she _seemed_ to evolve force enough to acquire a number of languages, to become familiar with the natural sciences, to take hold of philosophy and mathematics, and to keep in good physical case while doing all this. at the age of twenty-one she might have been presented to the public, on commencement day, by the president of vassar college or of antioch college or of michigan university, as the wished-for result of american liberal female culture. just at this time, however, the catamenial function began to show signs of failure of power. no severe or even moderate illness overtook her. she was subjected to no unusual strain. she was only following the regimen of continued and sustained work, regardless of nature's periodical demands for a portion of her time and force, when, without any apparent cause, the failure of power was manifested by moderate dysmenorrhoea and diminished excretion. soon after this the function ceased altogether; and up to this present writing, a period of six or eight years, it has shown no more signs of activity than an amputated arm. in the course of a year or so after the cessation of the function, her head began to trouble her. first there was headache, then a frequent congested condition, which she described as a "rush of blood" to her head; and, by and by, vagaries and forebodings and despondent feelings began to crop out. coincident with this mental state, her skin became rough and coarse, and an inveterate acne covered her face. she retained her appetite, ability to exercise and sleep. a careful local examination of the pelvic organs, by an expert, disclosed no lesion or displacement there, no ovaritis or other inflammation. appropriate treatment faithfully persevered in was unsuccessful in recovering the lost function. i was finally obliged to consign her to an asylum. the arrest of development of the reproductive system is most obvious to the superficial observer in that part of it which the milliner is called upon to cover up with pads, and which was alluded to in the case of miss d----. this, however, is too important a matter to be dismissed with a bare allusion. a recent writer has pointed out the fact and its significance with great clearness. "there is another marked change," says dr. nathan allen, "going on in the female organization at the present day, which is very significant of something wrong. in the normal state, nature has made ample provision in the structure of the female for nursing her offspring. in order to furnish this nourishment, pure in quality and abundant in quantity, she must possess a good development of the sanguine and lymphatic temperament, together with vigorous and healthy digestive organs. formerly such an organization was very generally possessed by american women, and they found but little difficulty in nursing their infants. it was only occasionally, in case of some defect in the organization, or where sickness of some kind had overtaken the mother, that it became necessary to resort to the wet-nurse or to feeding by hand. and the english, the scotch, the german, the canadian french, and the irish women now living in this country, generally nurse their children: the exceptions are rare. but how is it with our american women who become mothers? to those who have never considered this subject, and even to medical men who have never carefully looked into it, the facts, when correctly and fully presented, will be surprising. it has been supposed by some that all, or nearly all, our american women could nurse their offspring just as well as not; that the disposition only was wanting, and that they did not care about having the trouble or confinement necessarily attending it. but this is a great mistake. this very indifference or aversion shows something wrong in the organization as well as in the disposition: if the physical system were all right, the mind and natural instincts would generally be right also. while there may be here and there cases of this kind, such an indisposition is not always found. it is a fact, that large numbers of our women are anxious to nurse their offspring, and make the attempt: they persevere for a while,--perhaps for weeks or months,--and then fail.... there is still another class that cannot nurse at all, _having neither the organs nor nourishment_ requisite even to make a beginning.... why should there be such a difference between the women of our times and their mothers or grandmothers? why should there be such a difference between our american women and those of foreign origin residing in the same locality, and surrounded by the same external influences? the explanation is simple: they have not the right kind of organization; there is a want of proper development of the lymphatic and sanguine temperaments,--a marked deficiency in the organs of nutrition and secretion. you cannot draw water without good, flowing springs. _the brain and nervous system have, for a long time, made relatively too large a demand upon_ the organs of digestion and assimilation, while the exercise and _development of certain other tissues in the body have been sadly neglected_.... in consequence of the great neglect of physical exercise, and the _continuous application to study_, together with various other influences, large numbers of our american women have altogether an undue predominance of the nervous temperament. if only here and there an individual were found with such an organization, not much harm comparatively would result; but, when a majority or nearly all have it, the evil becomes one of no small magnitude."[ ] and the evil, it should be added, is not simply the inability to nurse; for, if one member suffers, all the members suffer. a woman, whether married or unmarried, whether called to the offices of maternity or relieved from them, who has been defrauded by her education or otherwise of such an essential part of her development, is not so much of a woman, intellectually and morally as well as physically, in consequence of this defect. her nervous system and brain, her instincts and character, are on a lower plane, and incapable of their harmonious and best development, if she is possessed, on reaching adult age, of only a portion of a breast and an ovary, or none at all. when arrested development of the reproductive system is nearly or quite complete, it produces a change in the character, and a loss of power, which it is easy to recognize, but difficult to describe. as this change is an occasional attendant or result of amenorrhoea, when the latter, brought about at an early age, is part of an early arrest, it should not be passed by without an allusion. in these cases, which are not of frequent occurrence at present, but which may be evolved by our methods of education more numerously in the future, the system tolerates the absence of the catamenia, and the consequent non-elimination of impurities from the blood. acute or chronic disease, the ordinary result of this condition, is not set up, but, instead, there is a change in the character and development of the brain and nervous system. there are in individuals of this class less adipose and more muscular tissue than is commonly seen, a coarser skin, and, generally, a tougher and more angular make-up. there is a corresponding change in the intellectual and psychical condition,--a dropping out of maternal instincts, and an appearance of amazonian coarseness and force. such persons are analogous to the sexless class of termites. naturalists tell us that these insects are divided into males and females, and a third class called workers and soldiers, who have no reproductive apparatus, and who, in their structure and instincts, are unlike the fertile individuals. a closer analogy than this, however, exists between these human individuals and the eunuchs of oriental civilization. except the secretary of the treasury, in the cabinet of candace, queen of ethiopia, who was baptized by philip and narses, justinian's general, none of that class have made any impression on the world's life, that history has recorded. it may be reasonably doubted if arrested development of the female reproductive system, producing a class of agenes,[ ] not epicenes, will yield a better result of intellectual and moral power in the nineteenth century, than the analogous class of orientals exhibited. clinical illustrations of this type of arrested growth might be given, but my pen refuses the ungracious task. another result of the present methods of educating girls, and one different from any of the preceding, remains to be noticed. schools and colleges, as we have seen, require girls to work their brains with full force and sustained power, at the time when their organization periodically requires a portion of their force for the performance of a periodical function, and a portion of their power for the building up of a peculiar, complicated, and important mechanism,--the engine within an engine. they are required to do two things equally well at the same time. they are urged to meditate a lesson and drive a machine simultaneously, and to do them both with all their force. their organizations are expected to make good sound brains and nerves by working over the humanities, the sciences, and the arts, and, at the same time, to make good sound reproductive apparatuses, not only without any especial attention to the latter, but while all available force is withdrawn from the latter and sent to the former. it is not materialism to say, that, as the brain is, so will thought be. without discussing the french physiologist's dictum, that the brain secretes thought as the liver does bile, we may be sure, that without brain there will be no thought. the quality of the latter depends on the quality of the former. the metamorphoses of brain manifest, measure, limit, enrich, and color thought. brain tissue, including both quantity and quality, correlates mental power. the brain is manufactured from the blood; its quantity and quality are determined by the quantity and quality of its blood supply. blood is made from food; but it may be lost by careless hemorrhage, or poisoned by deficient elimination. when frequently and largely lost or poisoned, as i have too frequent occasion to know it often is, it becomes impoverished,--anemic. then the brain suffers, and mental power is lost. the steps are few and direct, from frequent loss of blood, impoverished blood, and abnormal brain and nerve metamorphosis, to loss of mental force and nerve disease. ignorance or carelessness leads to anemic blood, and that to an anemic mind. as the blood, so the brain; as the brain, so the mind. the cases which have hitherto been presented illustrate some of the evils which the reproductive system is apt to receive in consequence of obvious derangement of its growth and functions. but it may, and often does, happen that the catamenia are normally performed, and that the reproductive system is fairly made up during the educational period. then force is withdrawn from the brain and nerves and ganglia. these are dwarfed or checked or arrested in their development. in the process of waste and repair, of destructive and constructive metamorphosis, by which brains as well as bones are built up and consolidated, education often leaves insufficient margin for growth. income derived from air, food, and sleep, which should largely, may only moderately exceed expenditure upon study and work, and so leave but little surplus for growth in any direction; or, what more commonly occurs, the income which the brain receives is all spent upon study, and little or none upon its development, while that which the nutritive and reproductive systems receive is retained by them, and devoted to their own growth. when the school makes the same steady demand for force from girls who are approaching puberty, ignoring nature's periodical demands, that it does from boys, who are not called upon for an equal effort, there must be failure somewhere. generally either the reproductive system or the nervous system suffers. we have looked at several instances of the former sort of failure; let us now examine some of the latter. miss f---- was about twenty years old when she completed her technical education. she inherited a nervous diathesis as well as a large dower of intellectual and æsthetic graces. she was a good student, and conscientiously devoted all her time, with the exception of ordinary vacations, to the labor of her education. she made herself mistress of several languages, and accomplished in many ways. the catamenial function appeared normally, and, with the exception of occasional slight attacks of menorrhagia, was normally performed during the whole period of her education. she got on without any sort of serious illness. there were few belonging to my clientele who required less professional advice for the same period than she. with the ending of her school life, when she should have been in good trim and well equipped, physically as well as intellectually, for life's work, there commenced, without obvious cause, a long period of invalidism. it would be tedious to the reader, and useless for our present purpose, to detail the history and describe the protean shapes of her sufferings. with the exception of small breasts, the reproductive system was well developed. repeated and careful examinations failed to detect any derangement of the uterine mechanism. her symptoms all pointed to the nervous system as the _fons et origo mali_. first general debility, that concealed but ubiquitous leader of innumerable armies of weakness and ill, laid siege to her, and captured her. then came insomnia, that worried her nights for month after month, and made her beg for opium, alcohol, chloral, bromides, any thing that would bring sleep. neuralgia in every conceivable form tormented her, most frequently in her back, but often, also, in her head, sometimes in her sciatic nerves, sometimes setting up a tic douloureux, sometimes causing a fearful dysmenorrhoea and frequently making her head ache for days together. at other times hysteria got hold of her, and made her fancy herself the victim of strange diseases. mental effort of the slightest character distressed her, and she could not bear physical exercise of any amount. this condition, or rather these varying conditions, continued for some years. she followed a careful and systematic regimen, and was rewarded by a slow and gradual return of health and strength, when a sudden accident killed her, and terminated her struggle with weakness and pain. words fail to convey the lesson of this case to others with any thing like the force that the observation of it conveyed its moral to those about miss f----, and especially to the physician who watched her career through her educational life, and saw it lead to its logical conclusion of invalidism and thence towards recovery, till life ended. when she finished school, as the phrase goes, she was considered to be well. the principal of any seminary or head of any college, judging by her looks alone, would not have hesitated to call her rosy and strong. at that time the symptoms of failure which began to appear were called signs of previous overwork. this was true, but not so much in the sense of overwork as of erroneously-arranged work. while a student, she wrought continuously,--just as much during each catamenial week as at other times. as a consequence, in her metamorphosis of tissue, repair did little more than make up waste. there were constant demands of force for constant growth of the system generally, equally constant demands of force for the labor of education, and periodical demands of force for a periodical function. the regimen she followed did not permit all these demands to be satisfied, and the failure fell on the nervous system. she accomplished intellectually a good deal, but not more than she might have done, and retained her health, had the order of her education been a physiological one. it was not latin, french, german, mathematics, or philosophy that undermined her nerves; nor was it because of any natural inferiority to boys that she failed; nor because she undertook to master what women have no right to learn: she lost her health simply because she undertook to do her work in a boy's way and not in a girl's way. let us learn the lesson of one more case. these details may be tedious; but the justification of their presence here are the importance of the subject they illustrate and elucidate, and the necessity of acquiring a belief of the truth of the facts of female education. miss g---- worked her way through new-england primary, grammar, and high schools to a western college, which she entered with credit to herself, and from which she graduated, confessedly its first scholar, leading the male and female youth alike. all that need be told of her career is that she worked as a student, continuously and perseveringly, through the years of her first critical epoch, and for a few years after it, without any sort of regard to the periodical type of her organization. it never appeared that she studied excessively in other respects, or that her system was weakened while in college by fevers or other sickness. not a great while after graduation, she began to show signs of failure, and some years later died under the writer's care. a post-mortem examination was made, which disclosed no disease in any part of the body, except in the brain, where the microscope revealed commencing degeneration. this was called an instance of death from over-work. like the preceding case, it was not so much the result of over-work as of un-physiological work. she was unable to make a good brain, that could stand the wear and tear of life, and a good reproductive system that should serve the race, at the same time that she was continuously spending her force in intellectual labor. nature asked for a periodical remission, and did not get it. and so miss g---- died, not because she had mastered the wasps of aristophanes and the mécanique céleste, not because she had made the acquaintance of kant and kölliker, and ventured to explore the anatomy of flowers and the secrets of chemistry, but because, while pursuing these studies, while doing all this work, she steadily ignored her woman's make. believing that woman can do what man can, for she held that faith, she strove with noble but ignorant bravery to compass man's intellectual attainment in a man's way, and died in the effort. if she had aimed at the same goal, disregarding masculine and following feminine methods, she would be alive now, a grand example of female culture, attainment, and power. these seven clinical observations are sufficient to illustrate the fact that our modern methods of education do not give the female organization a fair chance, but that they check development, and invite weakness. it would be easy to multiply such observations, from the writer's own notes alone, and, by doing so, to swell this essay into a portly volume; but the reader is spared the needless infliction. other observers have noticed similar facts, and have urgently called attention to them. dr. fisher, in a recent excellent monograph on insanity, says, "a few examples of injury from _continued_ study will show how mental strain affects the health of young girls particularly. every physician could, no doubt, furnish many similar ones." "miss a---- graduated with honor at the normal school after several years of close study, much of the time out of school; never attended balls or parties; sank into a low state of health at once with depression. was very absurdly allowed to marry while in this state, and soon after became violently insane, and is likely to remain so." "miss a---- graduated at the grammar school, not only first, but _perfect_, and at once entered the normal school; was very ambitious to sustain her reputation, and studied hard out of school; was slow to learn, but had a retentive memory; could seldom be induced to go to parties, and, when she did go, studied while dressing, and on the way; was assigned extra tasks at school, because she performed them so well; was a _fine healthy girl in appearance_, but broke down permanently at end of second year, and is now a victim of hysteria and depression." "miss c----, of a nervous organization, and quick to learn; her health suffered in normal school, so that her physician predicted insanity if her studies were not discontinued. she persevered, however, and is now an inmate of a hospital, with hysteria and depression." "a certain proportion of girls are predisposed to mental or nervous derangement. the same girls are apt to be quick, brilliant, ambitious, and persistent at study, and need not stimulation, but repression. for the sake of a temporary reputation for scholarship, they risk their health at the _most susceptible period_ of their lives, and break down _after the excitement of school-life has passed away_. for _sexual reasons_ they cannot compete with boys, whose out-door habits still further increase the difference in their favor. if it was a question of school-teachers instead of school-girls, the list would be long of young women whose health of mind has become bankrupt by a _continuation_ of the mental strain commenced at school. any method of relief in our school-system to these over-susceptible minds should be welcomed, even at the cost of the intellectual supremacy of woman in the next generation."[ ] the fact which dr. fisher alludes to, that many girls break down not during but _after_ the excitement of school or college life, is an important one, and is apt to be overlooked. the process by which the development of the reproductive system is arrested, or degeneration of brain and nerve-tissue set a going, is an insidious one. at its beginning, and for a long time after it is well on in its progress, it would not be recognized by the superficial observer. a class of girls might, and often do, graduate from our schools, higher seminaries, and colleges, that appear to be well and strong at the time of their graduation, but whose development has already been checked, and whose health is on the verge of giving way. their teachers have known nothing of the amenorrhoea, menorrhagia, dysmenorrhoea, or leucorrhoea which the pupils have sedulously concealed and disregarded; and the cunning devices of dress have covered up all external evidences of defect; and so, on graduation day, they are pointed out by their instructors to admiring committees as rosy specimens of both physical and intellectual education. a closer inspection by competent experts would reveal the secret weakness which the labor of life that they are about to enter upon too late discloses. the testimony of dr. anstie of london, as to the gravity of the evils incurred by the sort of erroneous education we are considering, is decided and valuable. he says, "for, be it remembered, the epoch of sexual development is one in which an enormous addition is being made to the expenditure of vital energy; besides the continuous processes of growth of the tissues and organs generally, the sexual apparatus, with its nervous supply, is making _by its development heavy demands_ upon the nutritive powers of the organism; and it is scarcely possible but that portions of the nervous centres, not directly connected with it, should proportionally suffer in their nutrition, probably through defective blood supply. when we add to this the abnormal strain that is being put on the brain, in many cases, by a forcing plan of mental education, we shall perceive a source not merely of exhaustive expenditure of nervous power, but of secondary irritation of centres like the medulla oblongata that are probably already somewhat lowered in power of vital resistance, and proportionably _irritable_."[ ] a little farther on, dr. anstie adds, "but i confess, that, with me, the result of close attention given to the pathology of neuralgia has been the ever-growing conviction, that, next to the influence of neurotic inheritance, there is no such frequently powerful factor in the construction of the neuralgic habit as mental warp of a certain kind, the product of an unwise education." in another place, speaking of the liability of the brain to suffer from an unwise education, and referring to the sexual development that we are discussing in these pages, he makes the following statement, which no intelligent physician will deny, and which it would be well for all teachers who care for the best education of the girls intrusted to their charge to ponder seriously. "i would also go farther, and express the opinion, that peripheral influences of an extremely powerful and _continuous_ kind, where they concur with one of those critical periods of life at which the central nervous system is relatively weak and unstable, can occasionally set going a non-inflammatory centric atrophy, which may localize itself in those nerves upon whose centres the morbific peripheral influence is perpetually pouring in. even such influences as the psychical and emotional, be it remembered, must be considered peripheral."[ ] the brain of miss g----, whose case was related a few pages back, is a clinical illustration of the accuracy of this opinion. dr. weir mitchell, one of our most eminent american physiologists, has recently borne most emphatic testimony to the evils we have pointed out: "worst of all," he says, "to my mind, most destructive in every way, is the american view of female education. the time taken for the more serious instruction of girls extends to the age of eighteen, and rarely over this. during these years, they are undergoing such organic development as renders them remarkably sensitive." ... "to show more precisely how the growing girl is injured by the causes just mentioned" (forced and continued study at the sexual epoch) "would carry me upon subjects unfit for full discussion in these pages; but no thoughtful reader can be much at a loss as to my meaning." ... "to-day the american woman is, to speak plainly, physically unfit for her duties as woman, and is, perhaps, of all civilized females, the least qualified to undertake those weightier tasks which tax so heavily the nervous system of man. she is not fairly up to what nature asks from her as wife and mother. how will she sustain herself under the pressure of those yet more exacting duties which now-a-days she is eager to share with the man?"[ ] in our schools it is the ambitious and conscientious girls, those who have in them the stuff of which the noblest women are made, that suffer, not the romping or lazy sort; and thus our modern ways of education provide for the "non-survival of the fittest." a speaker told an audience of women at wesleyan hall not long ago, that he once attended the examination of a western college, where a girl beat the boys in unravelling the intracacies of juvenal. he did not report the consumption of blood and wear of brain tissue that in her college way of study correlated her latin, or hint at the possibility of arrested development. girls of bloodless skins and intellectual faces may be seen any day, by those who desire the spectacle, among the scholars of our high and normal schools,--faces that crown, and skins that cover, curving spines, which should be straight, and neuralgic nerves that should know no pain. later on, when marriage and maternity overtake these girls, and they "live laborious days" in a sense not intended by milton's line, they bend and break beneath the labor, like loaded grain before a storm, and bear little fruit again. a training that yields this result is neither fair to the girls nor to the race. let us quote the authority of such an acute and sagacious observer as dr. maudsley, in support of the physiological and pathological views that have been here presented. referring to the physiological condition and phenomena of the first critical epoch, he says, "in the great mental revolution caused by the development of the sexual system at puberty, we have the most striking example of the intimate and essential sympathy between the brain, as a mental organ, and other organs of the body. the change of character at this period is not by any means _limited to the appearance of the sexual feelings_, and their sympathetic ideas, but, when traced to its ultimate reach, will be found to extend to the highest feelings of mankind, social, moral, and even religious."[ ] he points out the fact that it is very easy by improper training and forced work, during this susceptible period, to turn a physiological into a pathological state. "the great mental revolution which occurs at puberty may go beyond its physiological limits in some instances, and become pathological." "the time of this mental revolution is at best a trying period for youth." "the monthly activity of the ovaries, which marks the advent of puberty in women, has a notable effect upon the mind and body; wherefore it may become an important cause of mental and physical derangement."[ ] with regard to the physiological effects of arrested development of the reproductive apparatus in women, dr. maudsley uses the following plain and emphatic language: "the forms and habits of mutilated men approach those of women; and women, whose ovaries and uterus remain for some cause in a state of complete inaction, approach the forms and habits of men. it is said, too, that, in hermaphrodites, the mental character, like the physical, participates equally in that of both sexes. while woman preserves her sex, she will necessarily be feebler than man, and, having her special bodily and mental characters, will have, to a certain extent, her own sphere of activity; where she has become thoroughly masculine in nature, or hermaphrodite in mind,--when, in fact, she has pretty well divested herself of her sex,--then she may take his ground, and do his work; but she will have lost her feminine attractions, and probably also her chief feminine functions."[ ] it has been reserved for our age and country, by its methods of female education, to demonstrate that it is possible in some cases to divest a woman of her chief feminine functions; in others, to produce grave and even fatal disease of the brain and nervous system; in others, to engender torturing derangements and imperfections of the reproductive apparatus that imbitter a lifetime. such, we know, is not the object of a liberal female education. such is not the consummation which the progress of the age demands. fortunately, it is only necessary to point out and prove the existence of such erroneous methods and evil results to have them avoided. that they can be avoided, and that woman can have a liberal education that shall develop all her powers, without mutilation or disease, up to the loftiest ideal of womanhood, is alike the teaching of physiology and the hope of the race. in concluding this part of our subject, it is well to remember the statement made at the beginning of our discussion, to the following effect, viz., that it is not asserted here, that improper methods of study and a disregard of the reproductive apparatus and its functions, during the educational life of girls, are the _sole_ causes of female diseases; neither is it asserted that _all_ the female graduates of our schools and colleges are pathological specimens. but it is asserted that the number of these graduates who have been permanently disabled to a greater or less degree, or fatally injured, by these causes, is such as to excite the _gravest alarm_, and to demand the serious attention of the community. the preceding physiological and pathological data naturally open the way to a consideration of the co-education of the sexes. footnotes: [ ] it appears, from the researches of mr. whitehead on this point, that an examination of four thousand cases gave fifteen years six and three-quarter months as the average age in england for the appearance of the catamenia.--whitehead, _on abortion, &c._ [ ] the arrest of development of the uterus, in connection with amenorrhoea, is sometimes very marked. in the new-york medical journal for june, , three such cases are recorded, that came under the eye of those excellent observers, dr. e.r. peaslee and dr. t.g. thomas. in one of these cases, the uterine cavity measured one and a half inches; in another, one and seven-eighths inches; and, in a third, one and a quarter inches. recollecting that the normal measurement is from two and a half to three inches, it appears that the arrest of development in these cases occurred when the uterus was half or less than half grown. liberal education should avoid such errors. [ ] physical degeneracy. by nathan allen, m.d., journal of psychological medicine. october, . [ ] according to the biblical account, woman was formed by subtracting a rib from man. if, in the evolution of the future, a third division of the human race is to be formed by subtracting sex from woman,--a retrograde development,--i venture to propose the term agene (+a+ without, +genos+ sex) as an appropriate designation for the new development. count gasparin prophesies it thus: "quelque chose de monstreux, cet être répugnant, qui déjà parait à notre horizon," a free translation of virgil's earlier description:-- "monstrum horrendum, informe, ingens, cui lumen ademtum." _ d, line_. [ ] plain talk about insanity. by t.w. fisher, m.d. boston. pp. , . [ ] neuralgia, and the diseases that resemble it. by francis e. anstie, m.d. pp. . english ed. [ ] op. cit., p. . [ ] wear and tear. by s. weir mitchell, m.d. [ ] body and mind. by henry maudsley, m.d. lond. p. [ ] op. cit., p. . [ ] op. cit., p. . part iv. co-education. "_pistoc._ where, then, should i take my place? _ st bacch._ near myself, that, with a she wit, a he wit may be reclining at our repast."--bacchides of plautus. "the woman's-rights movement, with its conventions, its speech-makings, its crudities, and eccentricities, is nevertheless a part of a healthful and necessary movement of the human race towards progress."--harriet beecher stowe. guided by the laws of development which we have found physiology to teach, and warned by the punishments, in the shape of weakness and disease, which we have shown their infringement to bring about, and of which our present methods of female education furnish innumerable examples, it is not difficult to discern certain physiological principles that limit and control the education, and, consequently, the co-education of our youth. these principles we have learned to be, three for the two sexes in common, and one for the peculiarities of the female sex. the three common to both, the three to which both are subjected, and for which wise methods of education will provide in the case of both, are, st, a sufficient supply of appropriate nutriment. this of course includes good air and good water and sufficient warmth, as much as bread and butter; oxygen and sunlight, as much as meat. d, mental and physical work and regimen so apportioned, that repair shall exceed waste, and a margin be left for development. this includes out-of-door exercise and appropriate ways of dressing, as much as the hours of study, and the number and sort of studies. d, sufficient sleep. this includes the best time for sleeping, as well as the proper number of hours for sleep. it excludes the "murdering of sleep," by late hours of study and the crowding of studies, as much as by wine or tea or dissipation. all these guide and limit the education of the two sexes very much alike. the principle or condition peculiar to the female sex is the management of the catamenial function, which, from the age of fourteen to nineteen, includes the building of the reproductive apparatus. this imposes upon women, and especially upon the young woman, a great care, a corresponding duty, and compensating privileges. there is only a feeble counterpart to it in the male organization; and, in his moral constitution, there cannot be found the fine instincts and quick perceptions that have their root in this mechanism, and correlate its functions. this lends to her development and to all her work a rhythmical or periodical order, which must be recognized and obeyed. "in this recognition of the chronometry of organic process, there is unquestionably great promise for the future; for it is plain that the observance of time in the motions of organic molecules is as certain and universal, if not as exact, as that of the heavenly bodies."[ ] periodicity characterizes the female organization, and developes feminine force. persistence characterizes the male organization, and develops masculine force. education will draw the best out of each by adjusting its methods to the periodicity of one and the persistence of the other. before going farther, it is essential to acquire a definite notion of what is meant, or, at least, of what we mean in this discussion, by the term co-education. following its etymology, _con-educare_, it signifies to draw out together, or to unite in education; and this union refers to the time and place, rather than to the methods and kinds of education. in this sense any school or college may utilize its buildings, apparatus, and instructors to give appropriate education to the two sexes as well as to different ages of the same sex. this is juxtaposition in education. when the massachusetts institute of technology teaches one class of young men chemistry, and another class engineering, in the same building and at the same time, it co-educates those two classes. in this sense it is possible that many advantages might be obtained from the co-education of the sexes, that would more than counterbalance the evils of crowding large numbers of them together. this sort of co-education does not exclude appropriate classification, nor compel the two sexes to follow the same methods or the same regimen. another signification of co-education, and, as we apprehend, the one in which it is commonly used, includes time, place, government, methods, studies, and regimen. this is identical co-education. this means, that boys and girls shall be taught the same things, at the same time, in the same place, by the same faculty, with the same methods, and under the same regimen. this admits age and proficiency, but not sex, as a factor in classification. it is against the co-education of the sexes, in this sense of identical co-education, that physiology protests; and it is this identity of education, the prominent characteristic of our american school-system, that has produced the evils described in the clinical part of this essay, and that threatens to push the degeneration of the female sex still farther on. in these pages, co-education of the sexes is used in its common acceptation of identical co-education. let us look for a moment at what identical co-education is. the law has, or had, a maxim, that a man and his wife are one, and that the one is the man. modern american education has a maxim, that boys' schools and girls' schools are one, and that the one is the boys' school. schools have been arranged, accordingly, to meet the requirements of the masculine organization. studies have been selected that experience has proved to be appropriate to a boy's intellectual development, and a regimen adopted, while pursuing them, appropriate to his physical development. his school and college life, his methods of study, recitations, exercises, and recreations, are ordered upon the supposition, that, barring disease or infirmity, punctual attendance upon the hours of recitation, and upon all other duties in their season and order, may be required of him continuously, in spite of ennui, inclement weather, or fatigue; that there is no week in the month, or day in the week, or hour in the day, when it is a physical necessity to relieve him from standing or from studying,--from physical effort or mental labor; that the chapel-bell may safely call him to morning prayer from new year to christmas, with the assurance, that, if the going does not add to his stock of piety, it will not diminish his stock of health; that he may be sent to the gymnasium and the examination-hall, to the theatres of physical and intellectual display at any time,--in short, that he develops health and strength, blood and nerve, intellect and life, by a regular, uninterrupted, and sustained course of work. and all this is justified both by experience and physiology. obedient to the american educational maxim, that boys' schools and girls' schools are one, and that the one is the boys' school, the female schools have copied the methods which have grown out of the requirements of the male organization. schools for girls have been modelled after schools for boys. were it not for differences of dress and figure, it would be impossible, even for an expert, after visiting a high school for boys and one for girls, to tell which was arranged for the male and which for the female organization. our girls' schools, whether public or private, have imposed upon their pupils a boy's regimen; and it is now proposed, in some quarters, to carry this principle still farther, by burdening girls, after they leave school, with a quadrennium of masculine college regimen. and so girls are to learn the alphabet in college, as they have learned it in the grammar-school, just as boys do. this is grounded upon the supposition that sustained regularity of action and attendance may be as safely required of a girl as of a boy; that there is no physical necessity for periodically relieving her from walking, standing, reciting, or studying; that the chapel-bell may call her, as well as him, to a daily morning walk, with a standing prayer at the end of it, regardless of the danger that such exercises, by deranging the tides of her organization, may add to her piety at the expense of her blood; that she may work her brain over mathematics, botany, chemistry, german, and the like, with equal and sustained force on every day of the month, and so safely divert blood from the reproductive apparatus to the head; in short, that she, like her brother, develops health and strength, blood and nerve, intellect and life, by a regular, uninterrupted, and sustained course of work. all this is not justified, either by experience or physiology. the gardener may plant, if he choose, the lily and the rose, the oak and the vine, within the same enclosure; let the same soil nourish them, the same air visit them, and the same sunshine warm and cheer them; still, he trains each of them with a separate art, warding from each its peculiar dangers, developing within each its peculiar powers, and teaching each to put forth to the utmost its divine and peculiar gifts of strength and beauty. girls lose health, strength, blood, and nerve, by a regimen that ignores the periodical tides and reproductive apparatus of their organization. the mothers and instructors, the homes and schools, of our country's daughters, would profit by occasionally reading the old levitical law. the race has not yet quite outgrown the physiology of moses. co-education, then, signifies in common acceptation identical co-education. this identity of training is what many at the present day seem to be praying for and working for. appropriate education of the two sexes, carried as far as possible, is a consummation most devoutly to be desired; identical education of the two sexes is a crime before god and humanity, that physiology protests against, and that experience weeps over. because the education of boys has met with tolerable success, hitherto,--but only tolerable it must be confessed,--in developing them into men, there are those who would make girls grow into women by the same process. because a gardener has nursed an acorn till it grew into an oak, they would have him cradle a grape in the same soil and way, and make it a vine. identical education, or identical co-education, of the sexes defrauds one sex or the other, or perhaps both. it defies the roman maxim, which physiology has fully justified, _mens sana in corpore sano_. the sustained regimen, regular recitation, erect posture, daily walk, persistent exercise, and unintermitted labor that toughens a boy, and makes a man of him, can only be partially applied to a girl. the regimen of intermittance, periodicity of exercise and rest, work three-fourths of each month, and remission, if not abstinence, the other fourth, physiological interchange of the erect and reclining posture, care of the reproductive system that is the cradle of the race, all this, that toughens a girl and makes a woman of her, will emasculate a lad. a combination of the two methods of education, a compromise between them, would probably yield an average result, excluding the best of both. it would give a fair chance neither to a boy nor a girl. of all compromises, such a physiological one is the worst. it cultivates mediocrity, and cheats the future of its rightful legacy of lofty manhood and womanhood. it emasculates boys, stunts girls; makes semi-eunuchs of one sex, and agenes of the other. the error which has led to the identical education of the two sexes, and which prophecies their identical co-education in colleges and universities, is not confined to technical education. it permeates society. it is found in the home, the workshop, the factory, and in all the ramifications of social life. the identity of boys and girls, of men and women, is practically asserted out of the school as much as in it, and it is theoretically proclaimed from the pulpit and the rostrum. woman seems to be looking up to man and his development, as the goal and ideal of womanhood. the new gospel of female development glorifies what she possesses in common with him, and tramples under her feet, as a source of weakness and badge of inferiority, the mechanism and functions peculiar to herself. in consequence of this wide-spread error, largely the result of physiological ignorance, girls are almost universally trained in masculine methods of living and working as well as of studying. the notion is practically found everywhere, that boys and girls are one, and that the boys make the one. girls, young ladies, to use the polite phrase, who are about leaving or have left school for society, dissipation, or self-culture, rarely permit any of nature's periodical demands to interfere with their morning calls, or evening promenades, or midnight dancing, or sober study. even the home draws the sacred mantle of modesty so closely over the reproductive function as not only to cover but to smother it. sisters imitate brothers in persistent work at all times. female clerks in stores strive to emulate the males by unremitting labor, seeking to develop feminine force by masculine methods. female operatives of all sorts, in factories and elsewhere, labor in the same way; and, when the day is done, are as likely to dance half the night, regardless of any pressure upon them of a peculiar function, as their fashionable sisters in the polite world. all unite in pushing the hateful thing out of sight and out of mind; and all are punished by similar weakness, degeneration, and disease. there are two reasons why female operatives of all sorts are likely to suffer less, and actually do suffer less, from such persistent work, than female students; why jane in the factory can work more steadily with the loom, than jane in college with the dictionary; why the girl who makes the bed can safely work more steadily the whole year through, than her little mistress of sixteen who goes to school. the first reason is, that the female operative, of whatever sort, has, as a rule, passed through the first critical epoch of woman's life: she has got fairly by it. in her case, as a rule, unfortunately there are too many exceptions to it, the catamenia have been established; the function is in good running order; the reproductive apparatus--the engine within an engine--has been constructed, and she will not be called upon to furnish force for building it again. the female student, on the contrary, has got these tasks before her, and must perform them while getting her education; for the period of female sexual development coincides with the educational period. the same five years of life must be given to both tasks. after the function is normally established, and the apparatus made, woman can labor mentally or physically, or both, with very much greater persistence and intensity, than during the age of development. she still retains the type of periodicity; and her best work, both as to quality and amount, is accomplished when the order of her labor partakes of the rhythmic order of her constitution. still the fact remains, that she can do more than before; her fibre has acquired toughness; the system is consolidated; its fountains are less easily stirred. it should be mentioned in this connection, what has been previously adverted to, that the toughness and power of after life are largely in proportion to the normality of sexual development. if there is error then, the organization never fully recovers. this is an additional motive for a strict physiological regimen during a girl's student life, and, just so far, an argument against the identical co-education of the sexes. the second reason why female operatives are less likely to suffer, and actually do suffer less, than school-girls, from persistent work straight through the year, is because the former work their brains less. to use the language of herbert spencer, "that antagonism between body and brain which we see in those, who, pushing brain-activity to an extreme, enfeeble their bodies,"[ ] does not often exist in female operatives, any more than in male. on the contrary, they belong to the class of those who, in the words of the same author, by "pushing bodily activity to an extreme, make their brains inert."[ ] hence they have stronger bodies, a reproductive apparatus more normally constructed, and a catamenial function less readily disturbed by effort, than their student sisters, who are not only younger than they, but are trained to push "brain-activity to an extreme." give girls a fair chance for physical development at school, and they will be able in after life, with reasonable care of themselves, to answer the demands that may be made upon them. the identical education of the sexes has borne the fruit which we have pointed out. their identical co-education will intensify the evils of separate identical education; for it will introduce the element of emulation, and it will introduce this element in its strongest form. it is easy to frame a theoretical emulation, in which results only are compared and tested, that would be healthy and invigorating; but such theoretical competition of the sexes is not at all the sort of steady, untiring, day-after-day competition that identical co-education implies. it is one thing to put up a goal a long way off,--five or six months or three or four years distant,--and tell boys and girls, each in their own way, to strive for it, and quite a different thing to put up the same goal, at the same distance, and oblige each sex to run their race for it side by side on the same road, in daily competition with each other, and with equal expenditure of force at all times. identical co-education is racing in the latter way. the inevitable results of it have been shown in some of the cases we have narrated. the trial of it on a larger scale would only yield a larger number of similar degenerations, weaknesses, and sacrifices of noble lives. put a boy and girl together upon the same course of study, with the same lofty ideal before them, and hold up to their eyes the daily incitements of comparative progress, and there will be awakened within them a stimulus unknown before, and that separate study does not excite. the unconscious fires that have their seat deep down in the recesses of the sexual organization will flame up through every tissue, permeate every vessel, burn every nerve, flash from the eye, tingle in the brain, and work the whole machine at highest pressure. there need not be, and generally will not be, any low or sensual desire in all this elemental action. it is only making youth work over the tasks of sober study with the wasting force of intense passion. of course such strenuous labor will yield brilliant, though temporary, results. the fire is kept alive by the waste of the system, and soon burns up its source. the first sex to suffer in this exhilarating and costly competition must be, as experience shows it is, the one that has the largest amount of force in readiness for immediate call; and this is the female sex. at the age of development, nature mobilizes the forces of a girl's organization for the purpose of establishing a function that shall endure for a generation, and for constructing an apparatus that shall cradle and nurse a race. these mobilized forces, which, at the technical educational period, the girl possesses and controls largely in excess of the boy, under the passionate stimulus of identical co-education, are turned from their divinely-appointed field of operations, to the region of brain activity. the result is a most brilliant show of cerebral pyrotechnics, and degenerations that we have described. that undue and disproportionate brain activity exerts a sterilizing influence upon both sexes is alike a doctrine of physiology, and an induction from experience. and both physiology and experience also teach that this influence is more potent upon the female than upon the male. the explanation of the latter fact--of the greater aptitude of the female organization to become thus modified by excessive brain activity--is probably to be found in the larger size, more complicated relations, and more important functions, of the female reproductive apparatus. this delicate and complex mechanism is liable to be aborted or deranged by the withdrawal of force that is needed for its construction and maintenance. it is, perhaps, idle to speculate upon the prospective evil that would accrue to the human race, should such an organic modification, introduced by abnormal education, be pushed to its ultimate limit. but inasmuch as the subject is not only germain to our inquiry, but has attracted the attention of a recent writer, whose bold and philosophic speculations, clothed in forcible language, have startled the best thought of the age, it may be well to quote him briefly on this point. referring to the fact, that, in our modern civilization, the cultivated classes have smaller families than the uncultivated ones, he says, "if the superior sections and specimens of humanity are to lose, relatively, their procreative power in virtue of, and in proportion to, that superiority, how is culture or progress to be propagated so as to benefit the species as a whole, and how are those gradually amended organizations from which we hope so much to be secured? if, indeed, it were ignorance, stupidity, and destitution, instead of mental and moral development, that were the _sterilizing_ influences, then the improvement of the race would go on swimmingly, and in an ever-accelerating ratio. but since the conditions are exactly reversed, how should not an exactly opposite direction be pursued? how should the race _not_ deteriorate, when those who morally and physically are fitted to perpetuate it are (relatively), by a law of physiology, those least likely to do so?"[ ] the answer to mr. greg's inquiry is obvious. if the culture of the race moves on into the future in the same rut and by the same methods that limit and direct it now; if the education of the sexes remains identical, instead of being appropriate and special; and especially if the intense and passionate stimulus of the identical co-education of the sexes is added to their identical education,--then the sterilizing influence of such a training, acting with tenfold more force upon the female than upon the male, will go on, and the race will be propagated from its inferior classes.[ ] the stream of life that is to flow into the future will be celtic rather than american: it will come from the collieries, and not from the peerage. fortunately, the reverse of this picture is equally possible. the race holds its destinies in its own hands. the highest wisdom will secure the survival and propagation of the fittest. physiology teaches that this result, the attainment of which our hopes prophecy, is to be secured, not by an identical education, or an identical co-education of the sexes, but by _a special and appropriate education, that shall produce a just and harmonious development of every part_. let one remark be made here. it has been asserted that the chief reason why the higher and educated classes have smaller families than the lower and uneducated is, that the former criminally prevent or destroy increase. the pulpit,[ ] as well as the medical press, has cried out against this enormity. that a disposition to do this thing exists, and is often carried into effect, is not to be denied, and cannot be too strongly condemned. on the other hand, it should be proclaimed, to the credit and honor of our cultivated women, and as a reproach to the identical education of the sexes, that many of them bear in silence the accusation of self-tampering, who are denied the oft-prayed-for trial, blessing, and responsibility of offspring. as a matter of personal experience, my advice has been much more frequently and earnestly sought by those of our best classes who desired to know how to obtain, than by those who wished to escape, the offices of maternity. the experiment of the identical co-education of the sexes has been set on foot by some of our western colleges. it has not yet been tried long enough to show much more than its first fruits, viz., its results while the students are in college; and of these the only obvious ones are increased emulation, and intellectual development and attainments. the defects of the reproductive mechanism, and the friction of its action, are not exhibited there; nor is there time or opportunity in college for the evils which these defects entail to be exhibited. president magoun of iowa college tells us, that, in the institution over which he presides, "forty-two young men and fifty-three young ladies have pursued college courses;" and adds, "nothing needs to be said as to the control of the two sexes in the college. the young ladies are placed under the supervision of a lady principal and assistant as to deportment, and every thing besides recitations (in which they are under the supervision of the same professors and other teachers with the young men, reciting with them); and one simple rule as to social intercourse governs every thing. the moral and religious influences attending the arrangement have been most happy."[ ] from this it is evident that iowa college is trying the identical co-education of the sexes; and the president reports the happy moral and religious results of the experiment, but leaves us ignorant of its physiological results. it may never have occurred to him, that a class of a hundred young ladies might graduate from iowa college or antioch college or michigan university, whose average health during their college course had appeared to the president and faculty as good as that of their male classmates who had made equal intellectual progress with them, upon whom no scandal had dropped its venom, who might be presented to the public on commencement day as specimens of as good health as their uneducated sisters, with roses in their cheeks as natural as those in their hands, the major part of whom might, notwithstanding all this, have physical defects that a physiologist could easily discover, and that would produce, sooner or later, more or less of the sad results we have previously described. a philanthropist and an intelligent observer, who has for a long time taken an active part in promoting the best education of the sexes, and who still holds some sort of official connection with a college occupied with identical co-education, told the writer a few months ago, that he had endeavored to trace the post-college history of the female graduates of the institution he was interested in. his object was to ascertain how their physique behaved under the stress,--the wear and tear of woman's work in life. the conclusion that resulted from his inquiry he formulated in the statement, that "the co-education of the sexes is intellectually a success, physically a failure." another gentleman, more closely connected with a similar institution of education than the person just referred to, has arrived at a similar conclusion. only a few female graduates of colleges have consulted the writer professionally. all sought his advice two, three, or more years after graduation; and, in all, the difficulties under which they labored could be distinctly traced to their college order of life and study, that is, to identical co-education. if physicians who are living in the neighborhood of the present residences of these graduates have been consulted by them in the same proportion with him, the inference is inevitable, that the ratio of invalidism among female college graduates is greater than even among the graduates of our common, high, and normal schools. all such observations as these, however, are only of value, at present, as indications of the drift of identical co-education, not as proofs of its physical fruits, or of their influence on mental force. two or three generations, at least, of the female college graduates of this sort of co-education must come and go before any sufficient idea can be formed of the harvest it will yield. the physiologist dreads to see the costly experiment tried. the urgent reformer, who cares less for human suffering and human life than for the trial of his theories, will regard the experiment with equanimity if not with complacency. if, then, the identical co-education of the sexes is condemned both by physiology and experience, may it not be that their _special and appropriate co-education_ would yield a better result than their special and appropriate _separate_ education? this is a most important question, and one difficult to resolve. the discussion of it must be referred to those who are engaged in the practical work of instruction, and the decision will rest with experience. physiology advocates, as we have seen, the special and appropriate education of the sexes, and has only a single word to utter with regard to simple co-education, or juxtaposition in education. that word is with regard to the common belief in the danger of improprieties and scandal as a part of co-education. there is some danger in this respect; but not a serious or unavoidable one. doubtless there would be occasional lapses in a double-sexed college; and so there are outside of schoolhouses and seminaries of learning. even the church and the clergy are not exempt from reproach in such things. there are sects, professing to commingle religion and love, who illustrate the dangers of juxtaposition even in things holy. "no physiologist can well doubt that the holy kiss of love in such cases owes all its warmth to the sexual feeling which consciously or unconsciously inspires it, or that the mystical union of the sexes lies very close to a union that is nowise mystical, when it does not lead to madness."[ ] there is less, or certainly no more danger in having the sexes unite at the repasts of knowledge, than, as plautus bluntly puts it, having he wits and she wits recline at the repasts of fashion. isolation is more likely to breed pruriency than commingling to provoke indulgence. the virtue of the cloister and the cell scarcely deserves the name. a girl has her honor in her own keeping. if she can be trusted with boys and men at the lecture-room and in church, she can be trusted with them at school and in college. jean paul says, "to insure modesty, i would advise the education of the sexes together; for two boys will preserve twelve girls, or two girls twelve boys, innocent amidst winks, jokes, and improprieties, merely by that instinctive sense which is the forerunner of matured modesty. but i will guarantee nothing in a school where girls are alone together, and still less when boys are." a certain amount of juxta-position is an advantage to each sex. more than a certain amount is an evil to both. instinct and common sense can be safely left to draw the line of demarcation. at the same time it is well to remember that juxtaposition may be carried too far. temptations enough beset the young, without adding to them. let learning and purity go hand in hand. there are two considerations appertaining to this subject, which, although they do not belong to the physiology of the matter, deserve to be mentioned in this connection. one amounts to a practical prohibition, for the present at least, of the experiment of the special and appropriate co-education of the sexes; and the other is an inherent difficulty in the experiment itself. the former can be removed whenever those who heartily believe in the success of the experiment choose to get rid of it; and the latter by patient and intelligent effort. the present practical prohibition of the experiment is the poverty of our colleges. identical co-education can be easily tried with the existing organization of collegiate instruction. this has been tried, and is still going on in separate and double-sexed schools of all sorts, and has failed. special and appropriate co-education requires in many ways, not in all, re-arrangement of the organization of instruction; and this will cost money and a good deal of it. harvard college, for example, rich as it is supposed to be, whose banner, to use mr. higginson's illustration, is the red flag that the bulls of female reform are just now pitching into,--harvard college could not undertake the task of special and appropriate co-education, in such a way as to give the two sexes a fair chance, which means the _best_ chance, and the only chance it ought to give or will ever give, without an endowment, additional to its present resources, of from one to two millions of dollars; and it probably would require the larger rather than the smaller sum. and this i say advisedly. by which i mean, not with the advice and consent of the president and fellows of the college, but as an opinion founded on nearly twenty years' personal acquaintance, as an instructor in one of the departments of the university, with the organization of instruction in it, and upon the demands which physiology teaches the special and appropriate education of girls would make upon it. to make boys half-girls, and girls half-boys, can never be the legitimate function of any college. but such a result, the natural child of identical co-education, is sure to follow the training of a college that has not the pecuniary means to prevent it. this obstacle is of course a removable one. it is only necessary for those who wish to get it out of the way to put their hands in their pockets, and produce a couple of millions. the offer of such a sum, conditioned upon the liberal education of women, might influence even a body as soulless as the corporation of harvard college is sometimes represented to be. the inherent difficulty in the experiment of special and appropriate co-education is the difficulty of adjusting, in the same institution, the methods of instruction to the physiological needs of each sex; to the persistent type of one, and the periodical type of the other; to the demand for a margin in metamorphosis of tissue, beyond what study causes, for general growth in one sex, and to a larger margin in the other sex, that shall permit not only general growth, but also the construction of the reproductive apparatus. this difficulty can only be removed by patient and intelligent effort. the first step in the direction of removing it is to see plainly what errors or dangers lie in the way. these, or some of them, we have endeavored to point out. "nothing is so conducive to a right appreciation of the truth as a right appreciation of the error by which it is surrounded."[ ] when we have acquired a belief of the facts concerning the identical education, the identical co-education, the appropriate education, and the appropriate co-education of the sexes, we shall be in a condition to draw just conclusions from them. the intimate connection of mind and brain, the correlation of mental power and cerebral metamorphosis, explains and justifies the physiologist's demand, that in the education of girls, as well as of boys, the machinery and methods of instruction shall be carefully adjusted to their organization. if it were possible, they should be adjusted to the organization of each individual. none doubt the importance of age, acquirement, idiosyncrasy, and probable career in life, as factors in classification. sex goes deeper than any or all of these. to neglect this is to neglect the chief factor of the problem. rightly interpreted and followed, it will yield the grandest results. disregarded, it will balk the best methods of teaching and the genius of the best teachers. sex is not concerned with studies as such. these, for any thing that appears to the contrary physiologically, may be the same for the intellectual development of females as of males; but, as we have seen, it is largely concerned about an appropriate way of pursuing them. girls will have a fair chance, and women the largest freedom and greatest power, now that legal hinderances are removed, and all bars let down, when they are taught to develop and are willing to respect their own organization. how to bring about this development and insure this respect, in a double-sexed college, is one of the problems of co-education. it does not come within the scope of this essay to speculate upon the ways--the regimen, methods of instruction, and other details of college life,--by which the inherent difficulties of co-education may be obviated. here tentative and judicious experiment is better than speculation. it would seem to be the part of wisdom, however, to make the simplest and least costly experiment first; that is, to discard the identical separate education of girls as boys, and to ascertain what their appropriate separate education is, and what it will accomplish. aided by the light of such an experiment, it would be comparatively easy to solve the more difficult problem of the appropriate co-education of the sexes. it may be well to mention two or three details, which are so important that no system of _appropriate_ female education, separate or mixed, can neglect them. they have been implied throughout the whole of the present discussion, but not distinctly enunciated. one is, that during the period of rapid development, that is, from fourteen to eighteen,[ ] a girl should not study as many hours a day as a boy. "in most of our schools," says a distinguished physiological authority previously quoted, "the hours are too many for both boys and girls. from a quarter of nine or nine, until half-past two, is with us (philadelphia schools for girls) the common schooltime in private seminaries. the usual recess is twenty minutes or half an hour, and it is not filled by enforced exercise. in certain schools,--would it were the rule,--ten minutes' recess is given after every hour. to these hours, we must add the time spent in study out of school. this, for some reason, nearly always exceeds the time stated by teachers to be necessary; and most girls between the age of thirteen and seventeen thus expend two or three hours. does any physician believe that it is good for a growing girl to be so occupied seven or eight hours a day? or that it is right for her to use her brains as long a time as the mechanic employs his muscles? but this is only a part of the evil. the multiplicity of studies, the number of teachers,--each eager to get the most he can out of his pupil,--the severer drill of our day, and the greater intensity of application demanded, produce effects on the growing brain, which, in a vast number of cases, can be only disastrous. even in girls of from fourteen to eighteen, such as crowd the normal school in philadelphia, this sort of tension and this variety of study occasion an amount of ill-health which is sadly familiar to many physicians."[ ] experience teaches that a healthy and growing boy may spend six hours of force daily upon his studies, and leave sufficient margin for physical growth. a girl cannot spend more than four, or, in occasional instances, five hours of force daily upon her studies, and leave sufficient margin for the general physical growth that she must make in common with a boy, and also for constructing a reproductive apparatus. if she puts as much force into her brain education as a boy, the brain or the special apparatus will suffer. appropriate education and appropriate co-education must adjust their methods and regimen to this law. another detail is, that, during every fourth week, there should be a remission, and sometimes an intermission, of both study and exercise. some individuals require, at that time, a complete intermission from mental and physical effort for a single day; others for two or three days; others require only a remission, and can do half work safely for two or three days, and their usual work after that. the diminished labor, which shall give nature an opportunity to accomplish her special periodical task and growth, is a physiological necessity for all, however robust they may seem to be. the apportionment of study and exercise to individual needs cannot be decided by general rules, nor can the decision of it be safely left to the pupil's caprice or ambition. each case must be decided upon its own merits. the organization of studies and instruction must be flexible enough to admit of the periodical and temporary absence of each pupil, without loss of rank, or necessity of making up work, from recitation, and exercise of all sorts. the periodical type of woman's way of work must be harmonized with the persistent type of man's way of work in any successful plan of co-education. the keen eye and rapid hand of gain, of what jouffroy calls self-interest well understood, is sometimes quicker than the brain and will of philanthropy to discern and inaugurate reform. an illustration of this statement, and a practical recognition of the physiological method of woman's work, lately came under my observation. there is an establishment in boston, owned and carried on by a man, in which ten or a dozen girls are constantly employed. each of them is given and required to take a vacation of three days every fourth week. it is scarcely necessary to say that their sanitary condition is exceptionally good, and that the aggregate yearly amount of work which the owner obtains is greater than when persistent attendance and labor was required. i have never heard of any female school, public or private, in which any such plan has been adopted; nor is it likely that any similar plan will be adopted so long as the community entertain the conviction that a boy's education and a girl's education should be the same, and that the same means the boy's. what is known in england as the ten-hour act, which mr. mundella and sir john lubbock have recently carried through parliament, is a step in a similar direction. it is an act providing for the special protection of women against over-work. it does not recognize, and probably was not intended to recognize, the periodical type of woman's organization. it is founded on the fact, however, which law has been so slow to acknowledge, that the male and female organization are not identical.[ ] this is not the place for the discussion of these details, and therefore we will not dwell upon them. our object is rather to show good and imperative reason why they should be discussed by others; to show how faulty and pregnant of ill the education of american girls has been and is, and to demonstrate the truth, that the progress and development of the race depend upon the appropriate, and not upon the identical education of the sexes. little good will be done in this direction, however, by any advice or argument, by whatever facts supported, or by whatever authority presented, unless the women of our country are themselves convinced of the evils that they have been educated into, and out of which they are determined to educate their daughters. they must breed in them the lofty spirit wallenstein bade his be of:-- "leave now the puny wish, the girlish feeling, oh, thrust it far behind thee! give thou proof thou'rt the daughter of the mighty,--his who where he moves creates the wonderful. meet and disarm necessity by choice." schiller: _the piccolomini_, act iii. . (_coleridge's translation._) footnotes: [ ] body and mind. op. cit., p. . [ ] the study of sociology, by herbert spencer, chap. . [ ] the study of sociology, by herbert spencer, chap. . [ ] enigmas of life. op. cit., by w.r. greg, p. . [ ] it is a fact not to be lost sight of, says dr. j.c. toner of washington, that the proportion between the number of american children under fifteen years of age, and the number of american women between the child-bearing ages of fifteen and fifty, is declining steadily. in , there were to every , marriageable women, , children under fifteen years of age. ten years later, there were , , or less children to every thousand women than in . in , this number had declined to , ; in , to , ; and in , to , . the total decline in the forty years was , or about per cent of the whole proportional number in , a generation ago. the united-states census of shows that there is, in the city of new york, but one child under fifteen years of age, to each thousand nubile women, when there ought to be three; and the same is true of our other large cities.--_the nation_, aug. , , p. . [ ] vid. a pamphlet by the rev. dr. todd. [ ] the new englander, july, . art., iowa college. [ ] body and mind. op. cit., p. . [ ] use of the ophthalmoscope. by t.c. allbutt. london. p. . [ ] some physiologists consider that the period of growth extends to a later age than this. dr. anstie fixes the limit at twenty five. he says, "the central nervous system is more slow in reaching its fullest development; and the brain, especially, is many years later in acquiring its maximum of organic consistency and functional power."--_neuralgia, op. cit._, by f.e. anstie, p. . [ ] wear and tear. op. cit., p. - . [ ] it is a curious commentary on the present aspect of the "woman question" to see many who honestly advocate the elevation and enfranchisement of woman, oppose any movement or law that recognizes nature's fundamental distinction of sex. there are those who insist upon the traditional fallacy that man and woman are identical, and that the identity is confined to the man, with the energy of infatuation. it appears from the spectator, that mr. and mrs. fawcett strongly object to the ten-hour act, on the ground that it discriminates unfairly against women as compared with men. upon this the spectator justly remarks, that the true question for an objector to the bill to consider is not one of abstract principle, but this: "is the restraint proposed so great as really to diminish the average productiveness of woman's labor, or, by _increasing its efficacy_, to maintain its level, or even improve it in spite of the hours lost? what is the length of labor beyond which an average woman's constitution is overtaxed and deteriorated, and within which, therefore, the law ought to keep them in spite of their relations, and sometimes in spite of themselves."--_vid. spectator_, london, june , . part v. the european way. "and let it appear that he doth not change his country manners for those of foreign parts, but only prick in some flowers of that he hath learned abroad into the customs of his own country."--lord bacon. one branch of the stream of travel that flows with steadily-increasing volume across the atlantic, from the western to the eastern continent, passes from the united states, through nova scotia, to england. the traveller who follows this route is struck, almost as soon as he leaves the boundaries of the republic, with the difference between the physique of the inhabitants he encounters and that of those he has left behind him. the difference is most marked between the females of the two sections. the firmer step, fuller chest, and ruddier cheek of the nova-scotian girl foretell still greater differences of color, form, and strength that england and the continent present. these differences impressed one who passed through nova scotia not long ago very strongly. her observations upon them are an excellent illustration of our subject, and they deserve to be read in this connection. her remarks, moreover, are indirect but valuable testimony to the evils of our sort of identical education of the sexes. "nova scotia," she says, "is a country of gracious surprises." "but most beautiful among her beauties, most wonderful among her wonders, are her children. during two weeks' travel in the provinces, i have been constantly more and more impressed by their superiority in appearance, size, and health, to the children of the new-england and middle states. in the outset of our journey, i was struck by it; along all the roadsides they looked up, boys _and girls_, fair, broad-cheeked, sturdy-legged, such as with us are seen only now and then. i did not, however, realize at first that this was the universal law of the land, and that it pointed to something more than climate as a cause. but the first school that i saw, _en masse_, gave a startling impetus to the train of observation and influence into which i was unconsciously falling. it was a sunday school in the little town of wolfville, which lies between the gaspereau and cornwallis rivers, just beyond the meadows of the grand pré, where lived gabriel lajeunesse, and benedict bellefontaine, and the rest of the 'simple acadian farmers.' i arrived too early at one of the village churches; and, while i was waiting for a sexton, a door opened, and out poured the sunday school, whose services had just ended. on they came, dividing in the centre, and falling to the right and left about me, thirty or forty boys and girls, between the ages of seven and fifteen. they all had fair skins, red cheeks, and clear eyes; they were all broad-shouldered, straight, and sturdy; the younger ones were more than sturdy,--they were fat, from the ankles up. but perhaps the most noticeable thing of all was the quiet, sturdy, unharassed expression which their faces wore; a look which is the greatest charm of a child's face, but which we rarely see in children over two or three years old. boys of eleven or twelve were there, with shoulders broader than the average of our boys at sixteen, and yet with the pure childlike look on their faces. girls of ten or eleven were there, who looked almost like women,--that is, like ideal women,--simply because they looked so calm and undisturbed.... out of them all there was but one child who looked sickly. he had evidently met with some accident, and was lame. afterward, as the congregation assembled, i watched the fathers and _mothers_ of these children. they, too, were broad-shouldered, tall, and straight, _especially the women_. even old women were straight, like the negroes one sees at the south walking with burdens on their heads. "five days later i saw, in halifax, the celebration of the anniversary of the settlement of the province. the children of the city and of some of the neighboring towns marched in 'bands of hope,' and processions such as we see in the cities of the states on the fourth of july. this was just the opportunity i wanted. it was the same here as in the country. i counted, on that day, just eleven sickly-looking children; no more! such brilliant cheeks, such merry eyes, such evident strength,--it was a scene to kindle the dullest soul! there were scores of little ones there, whose droll, fat legs would have drawn a crowd in central park; and they all had that same quiet, composed, well-balanced expression of countenance of which i spoke before, and of which it would be hard to find an instance in all central park. "climate, undoubtedly, has something to do with this. the air is moist; and the mercury rarely rises above °, or falls below °. also the comparative quiet of their lives helps to make them so beautiful and strong. but the most significant fact to my mind is, that, until the past year, there have been in nova scotia no public schools, comparatively few private ones; and in these there is no severe pressure brought to bear on the pupils.... i must not be understood to argue from the health of the children of nova scotia, as contrasted with the lack of health among our children, that it is best to have no public schools; only that it is better to have no public schools than to have such public schools as are now killing off our children.... in massachusetts, the mortality from diseases of the brain and nervous system is eleven per cent. in nova scotia it is only eight per cent."[ ] it would be interesting and instructive to ascertain, if we could, the regimen of female education in europe. the acknowledged and unmistakable differences between american and european girls and women--the delicate bloom, unnatural weakness, and premature decay of the former, contrasted with the bronzed complexion, developed form, and enduring force of the latter--are not adequately explained by climate. given sufficient time, difference of climate will produce immense differences of form, color, and force in the same species of animals and men. but a century does not afford a period long enough for the production of great changes. that length of time could not transform the sturdy german fraulein and robust english damsel into the fragile american miss. everybody recognizes and laments the change that has been and is going on. "the race of strong, hardy, cheerful girls, that used to grow up in country places, and made the bright, neat, new-england kitchens of olden times,--the girls that could wash, iron, brew, bake, harness a horse and drive him, no less than braid straw, embroider, draw, paint, and read innumerable books,--this race of women, pride of olden time, is daily lessening; and, in their stead, come the fragile, easy-fatigued, languid girls of a modern age, drilled in book-learning, ignorant of common things."[ ] no similar change has been wrought, during the past century, upon the mass of females in europe. there-- "nature keeps the reverent frame with which her years began." if we could ascertain the regimen of european female education, so as to compare it fairly with the american plan of the identical education of the sexes, it is not impossible that the comparison might teach us how it is, that conservation of female force makes a part of trans-atlantic, and deterioration of the same force a part of cis-atlantic civilization. it is probable such an inquiry would show that the disregard of the female organization, which is a palpable and pervading principle of american education, either does not exist at all in europe, or exists only in a limited degree. with the hope of obtaining information upon this point, the writer addressed inquiries to various individuals, who would be likely to have the desired knowledge. only a few answers to his inquiries have been received up to the present writing; more are promised by and by. the subject is a delicate and difficult one to investigate. the reports of committees and examining boards, of ministers of instruction, and other officials, throw little or no light upon it. the matter belongs so much to the domestic economy of the household and school, that it is not easy to learn much that is definite about it except by personal inspection and inquiry. the little information that has been received, however, is important. it indicates, if it does not demonstrate, an essential difference between the regimen or organization, using these terms in their broadest sense, of female education in america and in europe. dr. h. hagen, an eminent physician and naturalist of königsburg, prussia, now connected with the museum of comparative zoology at cambridge, writes from germany, where he has been lately, in reply to these inquiries, as follows:-- nuremberg, july , . dear sir,--the information, given by two prominent physicians in berlin, in answer to the questions in your letter, is mostly of a negative character. i believe them to prove that generally girls here are doing very well as to the catamenial function. first, most of the girls in north germany begin this function in the fifteenth year, or even later; of course some few sooner, even in the twelfth year or before; but the rule is after the fifteenth year. now, nearly all leave the school in the fifteenth year, and then follow some lectures given at home at leisure. the school-girls are of course rarely troubled by the periodical function. there is an established kind of tradition giving the rule for the regimen during the catamenial period: this regimen goes from mother to daughter, and the advice of physicians is seldom asked for with regard to it. as a rule, the greatest care is taken to avoid any cold or exposure at this time. if the girls are still school-girls, they go to school, study and write as at other times, _provided the function is normally performed_. school-girls never ride in germany, nor are they invited to parties or to dancing-parties. all this comes after the school. and even then care is taken to _stay at home when the periodical function is present_. concerning the health of the german girls, as compared with american girls, the german physicians have not sufficient information to warrant any statement. but the health of the german girls is commonly good except in the higher classes in the great capitals, where the same obnoxious agencies are to be found in germany as in the whole world. but here also there is a very strong exception, or, better, a difference between america and germany, as german girls are never accustomed to the free manners and modes of life of american girls. as a rule, in germany, the mother directs the manner of living of the daughter entirely. i shall have more and better information some time later. yours, h. hagen. a german lady, who was educated in the schools of dantzic, prussia, afforded information, which, as far as it went, confirmed the above. three customs, or habits, which exert a great influence upon the health and development of girls, appear from dr. hagen's letter to make a part of the german female educational regimen. the first is, that girls leave school at about the age of fifteen or sixteen, that is, as soon as the epoch of rapid sexual development arrives. it appears, moreover, that during this epoch, or the greater part of it, a german girl's education is carried on at home, by means of lectures or private arrangements. these, of course, are not as inflexible as the rigid rules of a technical school, and admit of easy adjustment to the periodical demands of the female constitution. the second is the traditional motherly supervision and careful regimen of the catamenial week. evidently the notion that a boy's education and a girl's education should be the same, and that the same means the boy's, has not yet penetrated the german mind. this has not yet evolved the idea of the identical education of the sexes. it appears that in germany, schools, studies, parties, walks, rides, dances, and the like, are not allowed to displace or derange the demands of nature. the female organization is respected. the third custom is, that german school-girls are not invited to parties at all. "all this comes after the school," says dr. hagen. the brain is not worked by day in the labor of study, and tried by night with the excitement of the ball. pleasant recreation for children of both sexes, and abundance of it, is provided for them, all over germany,--is regarded as necessity for them,--is made a part of their daily life; but then it is open-air, oxygen-surrounding, blood-making, health-giving, innocent recreation; not gas, furnaces, low necks, spinal trails, the civilized representatives of caudal appendages, and late hours. desirous of obtaining, if possible, a more exact notion than even a physician could give of the german, traditional method of managing the catamenial function for the first few years after its appearance, i made inquiries of a german lady, now a mother, whose family name holds an honored place, both in german diplomacy and science, and who has enjoyed corresponding opportunities for an experimental acquaintance with the german regimen of female education. the following is her reply. for obvious reasons, the name of the writer is not given. she has been much in this country as well as in germany; a fact that explains the knowledge of american customs that her letter exhibits. my dear doctor,--i have great pleasure in answering your inquiries in regard to the course, which, to my knowledge, german mothers adopt with their daughters at the catamenial period. as soon as a girl attains maturity in this respect, which is seldom before the age of sixteen, she is ordered to observe complete rest; not only rest of the body, but rest of the mind. many mothers oblige their daughters to remain in bed for three days, if they are at all delicate in health; but even those who are physically very strong are obliged to abstain from study, to remain in their rooms for three days, and keep perfectly quiet. during the whole of each period, they are not allowed to run, walk much, ride, skate, or dance. in fact, entire repose is strictly enforced in every well-regulated household and school. a german girl would consider the idea of going to a party at such times as simply preposterous; and the difference that exists in this respect in america is wholly unintelligible to them. as a general rule, a married woman in germany, even after she has had many children, is as strong and healthy, if not more so, than when she was a girl. in america, with a few exceptions, it appears to be the reverse; and, i have no doubt, it is owing to the want of care on the part of girls at this particular time, and to the neglect of their mothers to enforce proper rules in this most important matter. it has seemed to me, often, that the difference in the education of girls in america and in germany, as regards their physical training, is, that in america it is marked by a great degree of recklessness; while in germany, the erring, if it can be called erring, is on the side of anxious, extreme caution. therefore beautiful american girls fade rapidly; while the german girls, who do not possess the same natural advantages, do possess, as a rule, good, permanent health, which goes hand-in-hand with happiness and enjoyment of life. believe me, very truly yours, ---- ----. june , . this letter confirms the statement of dr. hagen, and shows that the educational and social regimen of a german school-girl is widely different from that of her american sister. perhaps, as is intimated above, the german way, which is probably the european way also, may err on the side of too great confinement and caution; and that a medium between that and the recklessness of the american way would yield a better result than either one of them. german peasant girls and women work in the field and shop with and like men. none who have seen their stout and brawny arms can doubt the force with which they wield the hoe and axe. i once saw, in the streets of coblentz, a woman and a donkey yoked to the same cart, while a man, with a whip in his hand, drove the team. the bystanders did not seem to look upon the moving group as if it were an unusual spectacle. the donkey appeared to be the most intelligent and refined of the three. the sight symbolized the physical force and infamous degradation of the lower classes of women in europe. the urgent problem of modern civilization is how to retain this force, and get rid of the degradation. physiology declares that the solution of it will only be possible when the education of girls is made appropriate to their organization. a german girl, yoked with a donkey and dragging a cart, is an exhibition of monstrous muscular and aborted brain development. an american girl, yoked with a dictionary, and laboring with the catamenia, is an exhibition of monstrous brain and aborted ovarian development. the investigations incident to the preparation of this monograph have suggested a number of subjects kindred to the one of which it treats, that ought to be discussed from the physiological standpoint in the interest of sound education. some, and perhaps the most important, of them are the relation of the male organization, so far as it is different from the female, to the labor of education and of life; the comparative influence of crowding studies, that is of excessive brain activity, upon the cerebral metamorphosis of the two sexes; the influence of study, or brain activity, upon sleep, and through sleep, or the want of it, upon nutrition and development; and, most important of all, the true relation of education to the just and harmonious development of every part, both of the male and female organization, in which the rightful control of the cerebral ganglia over the whole system and all its functions shall be assured in each sex, and thus each be enabled to obtain the largest possible amount of intellectual and spiritual power. the discussion of these subjects at the present time would largely exceed the natural limits of this essay. they can only be suggested now, with the hope that other and abler observers may be induced to examine and discuss them. in conclusion, let us remember that physiology confirms the hope of the race by asserting that the loftiest heights of intellectual and spiritual vision and force are free to each sex, and accessible by each; but adds that each must climb in its own way, and accept its own limitations, and, when this is done, promises that each will find the doing of it, not to weaken or diminish, but to develop power. physiology condemns the identical, and pleads for the appropriate education of the sexes, so that boys may become men, and girls women, and both have a fair chance to do and become their best. footnotes: [ ] bits of talk. by h.h. pp. - . [ ] house and home papers. by harriet beecher stowe. p. . * * * * * +------------------------------------------------------------+ | typographical errors corrected in text: | | | | page : menorraghic replaced with menorrhagic | | page : dysmenorrhea replaced with dysmenorrhoea | | page : rythmical replaced with rhythmical | | page : permantly replaced with permanently | | page : rythmical replaced with rhythmical | | page : twelth replaced with twelfth | | page : knowedge replaced with knowledge | | | +------------------------------------------------------------+ none _compliments of_ _booker t. washington_ _principal tuskegee normal and industrial institute tuskegee institute, alabama_ tuskegee and its people [illustration: booker t. washington.] tuskegee & its people: their ideals and achievements edited by booker t. washington d. appleton and company new york copyright, , by d. appleton and company _published june, _ preface in a general way the reading public is fairly well acquainted with the work of the tuskegee normal and industrial institute, but there is continued demand for definite information as to just what the graduates of that institution are doing with their education. that inquiry is partly answered by this book. the scope of the tuskegee institute work is outlined by the chapters contained in part i, while those of part ii evidence the fact that the graduates of the school are grappling at first-hand with the conditions that environ the masses of the negro people. at the school, in addition to the regular normal school course of academic work, thirty-six industries are taught the young men and women. these are: agriculture; basketry; blacksmithing; bee-keeping; brickmasonry; plastering; brick-making; carpentry; carriage trimming; cooking; dairying; architectural, freehand, and mechanical drawing; dressmaking; electrical and steam engineering; founding; harness-making; housekeeping; horticulture; canning; plain sewing; laundering; machinery; mattress-making; millinery; nurse training; painting; sawmilling; shoemaking; printing; stock-raising; tailoring; tinning; and wheelwrighting. since the founding of the institution, july , , seven hundred and forty-six graduates have gone out from the institution, while more than six thousand others who were not able to remain and complete the academic course, and thereby secure a diploma, have been influenced for good by it. the school has sought from the very beginning to make itself of practical value to the negro people and to the south as well. it has taught those industries that are of the south, the occupations in which our men and women find most ready employment, and unflinchingly has refused to abandon its course; it has sought to influence its young men and women to live unselfish, sacrificing lives; to put into practise the lessons taught on every side that make for practical, helpful every-day living. in the main those who go out from tuskegee institute, ( ) follow the industry they have been taught, ( ) teach in a public or private school or teach part of the year and farm or labor the rest, ( ) follow housekeeping or other domestic service, or ( ) enter a profession or the government service, or become merchants. among the teachers are many who instruct in farming or some industry; the professional men are largely physicians, and the professional women mostly trained nurses. dr. washington, the principal of the school, makes the unqualified statement: "after diligent investigation, i can not find a dozen former students in idleness. they are in shop, field, schoolroom, home, or the church. they are busy because they have placed themselves in demand by learning to do that which the world wants done, and because they have learned the disgrace of idleness and the sweetness of labor." no attempt has here been made to represent all of the industries; no attempt has especially been made to confine representation to those who are working at manual labor. the public, or at least a part of it, somewhat gratuitously, has reached the conclusion that tuskegee institute is a "servant training school," or an employment agency. that is a mistaken idea. the object of the school is to train men and women who will go out and repeat the work done here, to teach what they have learned to others, and to leaven the whole mass of the negro people in the south with a desire for the knowledge and profitable operation of those industries in which they have in so large a measure the right of way. tuskegee students and graduates are never urged not to take such service, especially not to refuse in preference to idleness, but it all involves a simple, ordinary, economic principle. capable men and women, skilled in the industrial arts, are like those of all races--they seek the most profitable employment. a blacksmith, a tailor, a brickmason, a harness-maker, or other artisan, who can find work in shops and factories, or independently, and make thirty to seventy-five dollars a month, and even more, will not, simply because he is black, leave those chances to accept service in private employment for fifteen dollars per month, and less, and board himself. no school could covenant to train servants for an indefinite tenure; it can at best only promise to train leaders who shall go among the masses and lift them up; to train men and women who shall in turn reach hundreds of others. those who write the following chapters represent, in the main, this class. they have written simply, with perfect frankness, have dealt with the significant things of their lives, and have demonstrated, the writer believes, that from humble origin black men and women may confidently be counted upon, with proper encouragement, to win success. the chapters are autobiographical, significantly optimistic, with just pride in what has been done, and outlining, as did "up from slavery"--which was commended as a proper model--experiences from childhood, the school-life of the writer, and the results achieved in the direction of putting into practise what was learned in school. through this symposium it is hoped that the public may learn, in the best possible way, some of the finer results already accomplished by the tuskegee institute. e. j. s. tuskegee institute, alabama, _april , _. contents page general introduction by booker t. washington. part i the school and its purposes i.--present achievements and governing ideals by emmett j. scott, mr. washington's executive secretary. ii.--resources and material equipment by warren logan, treasurer of the school. iii.--the academic aims by roscoe c. bruce, director of the academic department. iv.--what girls are taught, and how by mrs. booker t. washington, director of industries for girls. v.--hampton institute's relation to tuskegee by robert r. moton. part ii autobiographies by graduates of the school i.--a college president's story by isaac fisher, of pine bluff, arkansas. ii.--a school principal's story by william h. holtzclaw, of utica, mississippi. iii.--a lawyer's story by george w. lovejoy, of mobile, alabama. iv.--a school treasurer's story by martin a. menafee, of denmark, south carolina. v.--the story of a farmer by frank reid, of dawkins, alabama. vi.--the story of a carpenter by gabriel b. miller, of fort valley, georgia. vii.--cotton-growing in africa by john w. robinson, of lome, togo, west africa. viii.--the story of a teacher of cooking by mary l. dotson, of tuskegee institute, alabama. ix.--a woman's work by cornelia bowen, of waugh (mt. meigs), alabama. x.--uplifting of the submerged masses by w. j. edwards, of snow hill, alabama. xi.--a dairyman's story by lewis a. smith, of rockford, illinois. xii.--the story of a wheelwright by edward lomax, of tuskegee institute, alabama. xiii.--the story of a blacksmith by jubie b. bragg, of tallahassee, florida. xiv.--a druggist's story by david l. johnston, of birmingham, alabama. xv.--the story of a supervisor of mechanical industries by james m. canty, of institute p. o., west virginia. xvi.--a negro community builder by russell c. calhoun, of eatonville, florida. xvii.--the evolution of a shoemaker by charles l. marshall, of cambria, virginia. list of illustrations facing page booker t. washington _frontispiece_ emmett j. scott mr. washington's executive secretary. the collis p. huntington memorial building warren logan treasurer of the school the office building in process of erection student carpenters shown at work. roscoe c. bruce director of the academic department. a portion of the school grounds another portion of the school grounds mrs. booker t. washington director of industries for girls. a class in millinery the executive council standing, left to right: p. c. parks, superintendent of farm; george w. carver, director, agricultural department; j. n. calloway, land extension; john h. palmer, registrar; charles h. gibson, resident auditor; edgar j. penney, chaplain. seated, left to right: lloyd g. wheeler, business agent; robert r. taylor, director of mechanical industries; john h. washington, general superintendent of industries; warren logan, treasurer; booker t. washington, principal; miss jane e. clark, dean of woman's department; mrs. booker t. washington, director of industries for girls; and emmett j. scott, secretary to the principal. the director of the academic department, roscoe c. bruce, and the commandant of cadets, major j. b. ramsey, also members of the executive council, were absent when photograph was taken. the carnegie library building morning at the barns on the school farm teams of horses and cattle ready to start for the day's work. students pruning peach-trees a silo on the farm students filling it with fodder corn, steam-power being used. a model dining-room from the department where table-service is taught. the culture of bees students at work in the apiary. in the dairy students using separators. students at work in the harness shop at the hospital a corner in the boys' ward. in the tin shop students canning fruit starting a new building student masons laying the foundation in brick. girls gardening tuskegee and its people general introduction by booker t. washington institutions, like individuals, are properly judged by their ideals, their methods, and their achievements in the production of men and women who are to do the world's work. one school is better than another in proportion as its system touches the more pressing needs of the people it aims to serve, and provides the more speedily and satisfactorily the elements that bring to them honorable and enduring success in the struggle of life. education of some kind is the first essential of the young man, or young woman, who would lay the foundation of a career. the choice of the school to which one will go and the calling he will adopt must be influenced in a very large measure by his environments, trend of ambition, natural capacity, possible opportunities in the proposed calling, and the means at his command. in the past twenty-four years thousands of the youth of this and other lands have elected to come to the tuskegee normal and industrial institute to secure what they deem the training that would offer them the widest range of usefulness in the activities open to the masses of the negro people. their hopes, fears, strength, weaknesses, struggles, and triumphs can not fail to be of absorbing interest to the great body of american people, more particularly to the student of educational theories and their attendant results. when an institution has, like tuskegee institute, reached that stage in its development that its system of instruction has aroused very general discussion, and has given to the world of varied industry an army of workers, numbering not less than , , there is a natural curiosity on the part of the public to learn all that is possible of such an institution, and of the personality and methods of those administering its affairs. they wish to ascertain the actual truth concerning its resources and equipment; they want figures detailing the degree of pecuniary productiveness and moral efficiency attained by those who have received the prescribed training; and they are eager to hear the whole story from the lips of both the instructors and the instructed as to how the recorded results have been accomplished. in several volumes already published, bearing upon tuskegee institute and what it stands for, an endeavor has been made to present a truthful account of the principal's early strivings and life-work; an honest attempt has been made to analyze and impress the basic principles upon which tuskegee institute was founded. it has been the aim to write a history of individual yearnings for the light of knowledge that would stir the inner consciousness of the humblest of the race and arouse him to the vast possibilities that lie in the wake of solid character, intelligent industry, and material acquisition. he has tried, with all earnestness, to hold up the future of the american negro in its most attractive aspect, and to emphasize the virile philosophy that there is a positive dignity in working with the hands, when that labor is fortified by a developed brain and a consecrated heart. though much has been said of the spirit and purpose of this center of social and economic uplift in the famed black belt of the south, there is still a wide-spread demand for a more specific recital of what is being done here, by whom, under what conditions, and the concrete evidences of the benefits that are growing out of the thrift, industry, right thinking, and right living taught by our faculty. in response to this insistent call, mr. emmett j. scott, executive secretary of the tuskegee institute, presents to the public a further contribution, tuskegee and its people: their ideals and achievements, with authentic accompanying autobiographies of a number of typical students of the school. to this work mr. scott brings a peculiar fitness, unequaled by any other person who might have been chosen to perform it. he is closely knit to the southland and her great masses by the common sympathy of nativity and the mutuality of hopes. the south has always been his home, but he has traveled so extensively and mingled so freely that he has acquired most ample breadth of vision as regards men and things. for many years now mr. scott has served the school with rare fidelity and zeal, and has been to the principal not only a loyal assistant in every phase of his manifold and frequently trying duties, but has proved a valuable personal friend and counselor in matters of the most delicate nature, exhibiting in emergencies a quality of judgment and diplomatic calmness seldom found in men of even riper maturity and more extended experience. as i stated in one of my books published several years ago, as far as one individual can fill the place of another, mr. scott has acted in the principal's stead, seeing with the principal's eyes and hearing with the principal's ears, counting no sacrifice too great to be made for tuskegee's well-being. he is in perfect accord with the fundamental principles and practical policies through the persistent adherence to which tuskegee institute has won its conspicuous place in the educational world. the volume here presented has been edited by mr. scott with the utmost care, he preferring to have the contributors understate rather than overstate the results that have come from the labors of tuskegee and its people. it has been the principal's pleasure and privilege to examine and critically review the manuscript after its completion, and the volume is so praiseworthy that it is given his cordial approval. the task of editing he had expected to perform has been so well done that it has only been necessary to review the manuscript after its preparation for the publishers, and to forego the strict editorial revisioning planned. the book is an accurate portrait of the tuskegee of to-day, and reasonably forecasts the hopes for the institution of to-morrow. it tells with forceful directness and graphic precision the formative work that is being done for this generation, and supplies a fulcrum upon which there may justly rest a prophecy of greater things for the generations that are to follow. a tuskegee book, whatever its primary motive, is invariably expected to deal broadly with the entire problem of the negro and his relationships of every kind. it must be more than a mere flesh-and-blood narrative, descriptive of the material progress of the men and women the institute has produced and is producing. it must be a book free from ostentatious pretension, breathing the atmosphere of the life of the earnest people it describes. it must, of course, exhibit not only the achievements, but also the ideals, the possibilities of the tuskegee trained man and woman. this, i feel, is adequately done in this volume. tuskegee and its people possesses ideals in thought, morals, and action--and they are lofty. in these respects the symposium will not prove a disappointment. this instinct for the ideal, however, lies not in idly sighing for it, but is born of an abiding belief that worth is intrinsic, and that applied common sense, practical knowledge, constancy of effort, and mechanical skill will make a place for the patient striver far more secure than the artificial niche into which some one may thrust him. the masses who are most helpfully reached by the tuskegee institute are coming to realize that education in its truest sense is no longer to be regarded as an emotional impulse, a fetish made up of loosely joined information, to be worshiped for its mere possession, but as a practical means to a definite end. they are being taught that mind-training is the logical helpmeet of hand-training, and that both, supplemented and sweetened by heart-training, make the high-souled, useful, productive, patriotic, law-loving, public-spirited citizen, of whom any nation might well be proud. the outcome of such education will be that, instead of the downtrodden child of ignorance, shiftlessness, and moral weakness, we shall generate the thoroughly rounded man of prudence, foresight, responsibility, and financial independence. he will cease to be the gullible victim of the sharper who plays upon vanity, credulity, and superstition, and learn to value only that which is real and substantial. it is of the highest importance to the negro, who must make his way amid disadvantages and embarrassments of the severest character, that he be made aware of the vast difference between working and being worked. in carrying this inspiring message and impressing these fundamental truths, the new tuskegee book renders a splendid service. industrial training will be more potent for good to the race when its relation to the other phases of essential education is more clearly understood. there is afloat no end of discussion as to what is the "proper kind of education for the negro," and much of it is hurtful to the cause it is designed to promote. the danger, at present, that most seriously threatens the success of industrial training, is the ill-advised insistence in certain quarters that this form of education should be offered to the exclusion of all other branches of knowledge. if the idea becomes fixed in the minds of the people that industrial education means class education, that it should be offered the negro because he is a negro, and that the negro should be confined to this sort of education, then i fear serious injury will be done the cause of hand-training. it should be understood rather that at such institutions as hampton institute and tuskegee institute, industrial education is not emphasized because colored people are to receive it, but because the ripest educational thought of the world approves it; because the undeveloped material resources of the south make it peculiarly important for both races; and because it should be given in a large measure to any race, regardless of color, which is in the same stage of development as the negro. on the other hand, no one understanding the real needs of the race would advocate that industrial education should be given to every negro to the exclusion of the professions and other branches of learning. it is evident that a race so largely segregated as the negro is, must have an increasing number of its own professional men and women. there is, then, a place and an increasing need for the negro college as well as for the industrial institute, and the two classes of schools should, and as a matter of fact do, cooperate in the common purpose of elevating the masses. there is nothing in hand-training to suggest that it is a class-training. the best educational authorities in the world are indorsing it as an essential feature in the education of both races, and especially so when a very large proportion of the people in question are compelled by dint of circumstances to earn their living in manufactures and agricultural and mechanical pursuits in general. it so happens that the bulk of our people are permanently to remain in the south, and conditions beyond their control have attached them to the soil; for a long time the status of the majority of them is likely to be that of laborers. to make hard conditions easier, to raise common labor from drudgery to dignity, and to adopt systems of training that will meet the needs of the greatest number and prepare them for the better things that intelligent effort will surely bring, form a task to which the wisest of the race are addressing themselves with an eager enthusiasm which refuses to be chilled by adverse criticism. tuskegee emphasizes industrial training for the negro, not with the thought that the negro should be confined to industrialism, the plow, or the hoe, but because the undeveloped material resources of the south offer at this time a field peculiarly advantageous to the worker skilled in agriculture and the industries, and here are found the negro's most inviting opportunities for taking on the rudimentary elements that ultimately make for a permanently progressive civilization. the tuskegee idea is that correct education begins at the bottom, and expands naturally as the necessities of the people expand. as the race grows in knowledge, experience, culture, taste, and wealth, its wants are bound to become more and more diverse; and to satisfy these wants there will be gradually developed within our own ranks--as has already been true of the whites--a constantly increasing variety of professional and business men and women. their places in the economic world will be assured and their prosperity guaranteed in proportion to the merit displayed by them in their several callings, for about them will have been established the solid bulwark of an industrial mass to which they may safely look for support. the esthetic demands will be met as the capacity of the race to procure them is enlarged through the processes of sane intellectual advancement. in this cumulative way there will be erected by the negro, and for the negro, a complete and indestructible civilization that will be respected by all whose respect is worth the having. there should be no limit placed upon the development of any individual because of color, and let it be understood that no one kind of training can safely be prescribed for any entire race. care should be taken that racial education be not one-sided for lack of adaptation to personal fitness, nor unwieldy through sheer top-heaviness. education, to fulfil its mission for any people anywhere, should be symmetrical and sensible. a mastery of the industries taught at tuskegee presupposes and requires no small degree of academic study, for competency in agriculture calls for considerable knowledge of chemistry, and no mechanical pursuit can be followed satisfactorily without some acquaintance with the "three r's." likewise, the individual of liberal academic or college preparation possesses a stronger equipment for constructive work who has trained his hands to supplement his brain. after all, the final test of the value of any system of education is found in the record of its actual achievements. in tuskegee and its people heads of the several departments have not only given a succinct account of the history, resources, and current labors of the school, but deal most happily with the governing ideals behind the institution, and vindicate its claim to the approval of the world's thinkers and moving forces. besides treating rather elaborately the structural efficiency of the work of the teachers, the editor has not neglected to emphasize the spiritual and ethical virtues that spread over a wider range of influence here and among our people throughout the southland than those familiar with the purely academic phases have adequately understood. tuskegee's germ principle is to be found in its unboasted ideals, in the things that of necessity can not be listed in catalogue or report, rather than in its buildings, shops, farms, and what not. the school dwells upon the saving power of land, and learning, and skill, and a bank-account--not as finalities in themselves, but as tangible witnesses to the negro's capacity to compete with others. perhaps the newest and most refreshing feature of the book is its vivid pen-portraits of the young men and women who have gone out of tuskegee carrying into diversified lives the principles and precepts imbibed from their parent school. the pictures are drawn by the originals themselves, and they illustrate by honorable achievement the wholesome and evangelizing influence of tuskegee's preachments, and the far-reaching effect of placing before them as teachers the highest example of what the negro of morals and manners may become. they tell their story at first-hand, modestly and sincerely, and the foundations of inspiring lives, laid in the christian virtues and conscientious service of their fellow men, foster a firm belief that the school is doing a work that will live. these types of tuskegee's graduates, picked out at random from hundreds of equal scholarship and ability, represent distinctive channels of activity, including the president of a leading college, principals and teachers of thriving schools, a lawyer, a tinner, a school treasurer, farmers, cotton-growers, master builders and contractors, a dairyman, and a blacksmith. no element contributing to the racial uplift is overlooked. the scenes of their labors are scattered over a vast area, showing convincingly the diffusive character as well as the rich harvest garnered through the tuskegee idea. these rough-hewn sketches of a sturdy pioneer band in staking out a larger life and a wider horizon for later generations are worthy of the most careful perusal. the immeasurable advancement of the negro, manifested in character, courage, and cash, vitalized by valiant service to the republic in education, commerce, and religion, and crowned by an enlightened, vigorously efficient, sensibly ambitious, and law-abiding citizenship, is "confirmation strong as proofs of holy writ" that the gospel of industry, as exemplified by tuskegee and its helpers, has exerted a leavening influence upon civilization wherever it has been brought within the reach of those who are struggling toward the heights. under this new dispensation of mind, morals, and muscle, with the best whites and best blacks in sympathetic cooperation, and justice meaning the same to the weak as to the strong, the south will no longer be vexed by a "race problem." peace and prosperity for all will come with the strength to rise above the baser self. civic righteousness is the south's speediest thoroughfare to economic greatness. a book that opens the inner chambers of a people's heart, and sheds a light that may guide the footsteps of both races along the upward way, should meet with a hearty welcome at the hands of all lovers of mankind. _part i_ _the school and its purposes_ i present achievements and governing ideals by emmett j. scott so much has been said about tuskegee institute as a training-school in which to prepare young colored men and women for earning a living in the world of trade and business, that the ideals and spirit behind all this training are to a very large extent lost sight of. tuskegee, with its hundreds of acres of farm-land under intelligent cultivation, with its ever-increasing number of well-appointed buildings and its equipment, and the many things on the grounds included in the name of handicrafts, is always in the public eye, and continually appeals to the interest of those who are deeply concerned in the well-being and progress of the negro people. yet behind all of these more tangible manifestations of work, skill, and achievement, there is an unseen, persistent groping after the higher ideals of life and living. no one can remain long on the grounds as an intelligent observer of all that is to be here seen and felt, without recognizing that the things that are not written in the catalogue and not a part of the daily program of activities are real, vital, and of far-reaching importance. principal booker t. washington and the men and women who have helped him to build tuskegee institute are constantly looking beyond the present to a future filled with the evidences of a better living for all those who have felt the transforming spirit of the hidden forces at work. how the perspective widens and deepens! far, far beyond the confines of the tuskegee institute community the light of this new life is seen and felt and has its salutary effect. the stagnant life of centuries has awakened, and is casting off its bonds. a new term, "intelligent thrift," has come into its possession. wherever this term has gone and taken root, there has gone with it the thought that unless the idea make for character, as well as for more cotton or corn, it is not of much value. the tuskegee idea always asks one question, and that is, "what are you?" and not, "what have you?" the man who does not rise superior to his possessions does not measure up to the tuskegee idea of manhood. [illustration: emmett j. scott. mr. washington's executive secretary.] in other words, character-building is the alpha and omega of all that tuskegee stands for. from the moment the new student comes on the grounds until he leaves, he is appealed to in ways innumerable to regard life as more than bread or meat, as more than mere mental equipment. cleanliness, decorum, promptness, truthfulness--these are old-fashioned virtues, and are more properly taught in the home, but in tuskegee they mean everything. tuskegee not only acts as a teacher, but assumes the rôle of parent, and lays emphasis on the importance of these virtues every moment of the time from the entrance of the student until commencement day. the "cleanliness that is next to godliness" is one of the tuskegee ideals, and a student can scarcely commit a more serious misdemeanor than to appear slovenly, either in dress or manners. the facilities and requirements for bathing are quite as complete and exacting as the equipments in the laboratories and recitation-rooms. the result is that tuskegee has the reputation of being one of the most cleanly and sanitary institutions in the south. as for good manners, lord chesterfield himself would scarcely ask more than is insisted upon by tuskegee precision. a man must first be conscious of being a gentleman before he can be recognized as such by others, and a girl's good manners are only outward evidences of her individual worth and passport to respectful treatment. tuskegee institute, then, insists upon these things because they make for character, and are a part of the ideals toward which all training tends. but how are all these things taught and enforced? the first requisite, of course, is the character of the teachers and instructors themselves, the men and women who are the embodiment of the ideals that tuskegee institute stands for. while it can not be claimed that the best teachers in the south are all at tuskegee, it can be said that no other school has so large a number of colored men and women who have had the advantage of the highest industrial and intellectual, moral and religious training. the teaching force is made up largely of graduates from nearly every first-class educational institution in america. these teachers have been carefully sought out and brought to tuskegee, not only for their teaching ability, but that the students may have the benefit of the best examples before them of what the highest culture can do for men and women of their own race. for the majority of our students the perspective of life is narrow: many of them have never lived out of the community in which they were born. that was their only world; their ideals of life were shaped by their mean and narrow environments. they have learned to believe, and act accordingly, that the best people are all of one complexion, and the worst and poorest people are all of another complexion. there is no such thing as creating a sentiment of race pride in such people unless they have set before them living examples of their own race in whom they can feel a sense of pride. it is scarcely too much to say that one of the best things about the tuskegee institute is that it wins our young men and women from mean and sordid environment and brings them in contact with teachers whose minds, hearts, and lives have been enlarged and graced by the highest learning in the best educational institutions of the country. the school teaches no more important lesson than that of cultivating a sense of pride and respect for colored men and women who deserve it because of their character, education, and achievements. pride of race, though not so written in the courses of study, is as much a part of tuskegee's work as agriculture, brick-making, millinery, or any other trade, and quite as important. this may be called sentiment, but it makes for race development quite as much as any of the material things taught in the class-room or shop. to borrow a line from george eliot: "because our race has no great memories, i will so live, it shall remember me for deeds of such divine beneficence as rivers have, that teach men what is good by blessing them-- and make their name, now but a badge of scorn, a glorious banner floating in their midst, stirring the air they breathe with impulses of generous pride, exalting fellowship until it soars to magnanimity." that self-respect demands race pride; that virtue is its own reward; that character is the greatest thing in human life, are taught and emphasized in other ways also. dr. washington has succeeded, to a remarkable degree, in developing the tuskegee institute by insisting that this institution must have nothing less than the best within and without it, everywhere. what is not best is only temporary. those who have done most for the school have been made to feel that the character of the work done here and the ideals striven for are deserving of the best. the idea that "anything is good enough for a negro school" has never been allowed to have any part or exert any effect in tuskegee's expansion. for example, when mr. carnegie donated the money for a library for tuskegee, a building was erected of classic outline--a noble structure of artistic symmetry and beauty that must appeal to every one who has any appreciation of architectural beauty. the collis p. huntington memorial building, just completed, a gift of mrs. c. p. huntington, used for the academic classes of the school, would be a credit and delight to any municipality. there is everything about the exterior and interior that must awaken a sense of pride in every pupil who enters its portals. its facilities are sensible and unostentatious, yet they meet every requirement of the department. what is true of the new academic building is likewise true of the various dormitories for girls and boys. the cleanliness and the sanitation to be found at tuskegee are in delightful contrast to the poor environment to which many of the students have been accustomed; especially is this contrast heightened when these same students have, under competent direction, installed the plants which yield these comforts. thus it is that in dormitory, recitation-room, shop, dining-hall, library, chapel, and landscape, the idea that only the best is worth having and striving for is emphasized as an object-lesson and principle with such insistence that it becomes an actual part of a student's training and life. the student at tuskegee is constantly being trained to look up and forward. he learns how the idea of beauty can be actualized in home and social life; how faithful performance of every duty means nobility of character; how the value of achievement is determined by the motive behind it. but besides these, the one aim, thought, or anxiety around which all others revolve is the high honorableness of all kinds of work intelligently done. in a section where those who work with their hands are marked off by the inexorable line of caste from those who work with their brains or not at all, this idea of making intelligent work more honorable than intelligent idleness is of constructive value in race development. the problem that the tuskegee institute is helping to solve is not only that the colored people shall do their proportionate share of the work, but that they shall do it in such a way that the benefits will remain with those who do the work. who can measure the transforming effect and influence when it can be said that the "best mechanics" and the "best agriculturists" in the south are negroes? certainly, if such a time ever comes, there will be no such painful thing as a race problem, as negroes now see it and feel it. [illustration: the collis p. huntington memorial building.] this is one of tuskegee's largest ideals; not that tuskegee alone can bring about a "consummation so devoutly to be wished," but it is ambitious to be a potent factor in all the tendencies that make for such a condition of life in the heart of the south. so important is this aim and idea of tuskegee, that it allows no criticism to affect, interfere, or obscure its vision. tuskegee says to the world that it is determined not only to be a school, but an agent of civilization, a missionary for a better life, that shall stand for a kindlier relationship between the races. the school enthusiastically seeks to live up to the ideal of its principal, that education in the broadest and truest sense is designed to influence individuals to help others; is designed, first, last, and all the time, to transform and energize individuals into life-giving agencies for the uplift of their fellows. principal washington's whole educational creed, accepted by tuskegee institute teachers and students alike, was recently declared in one of his familiar sunday-evening "talks" to the students of the institution. said he: "education in the broadest and truest sense will make an individual seek to help all people, regardless of race, regardless of color, regardless of condition. and you will find that the person who is most truly educated is the one who is going to be kindest, and is going to act in the gentlest manner toward persons who are unfortunate, toward the race or the individual that is most despised. the highly educated person is the one who is most considerate of those individuals who are less fortunate. i hope when you go out from here and meet persons who are afflicted by poverty, whether of mind or body, or persons who are unfortunate in any way, that you will show your education by being just as kind and considerate toward those persons as it is possible for you to be. that is the way to test a person with education. you may see ignorant persons, who perhaps think themselves educated, going about the street, and when they meet an individual who is unfortunate--lame, or with a defect of body, mind, or speech--are inclined to laugh at and make sport of that individual. but the highly educated person, the one who is really cultivated, is gentle and sympathetic to every one. education is meant to make us absolutely honest in dealing with our fellows. i do not care how much arithmetic we have, or how many cities we can locate; it is all useless unless we have an education that makes us absolutely honest. education is meant to make us give satisfaction, and to get satisfaction out of giving it. it is meant to make us get happiness out of service for our fellows. and until we get to the point where we can get happiness and supreme satisfaction out of helping our fellows, we are not truly educated.... education is meant to make us appreciate the things that are beautiful in nature. a person is never educated until he is able to go into the swamps and woods and see something that is beautiful in the trees and shrubs there--is able to see something beautiful in the grass and flowers that surround him--is, in short, able to see something beautiful, elevating, and inspiring in everything that god has created. not only should education enable us to see beauty in these objects which god has put about us, but it is meant to influence us to bring beautiful objects about us. i hope that each one of you, after you graduate, will surround himself at home with what is beautiful, inspiring, and elevating. i do not believe that any person is educated so long as he lives in a dirty, miserable shanty. i do not believe that any person is educated until he has learned to want to live in a clean room made attractive with pictures and books, and with such surroundings as are elevating. in a word, i wish to say again that education is meant to give us that culture, that refinement, that taste, which will make us deal truthfully and sympathetically with our fellow men, and will make us see what is beautiful, elevating, and inspiring in what god has created. i want you to bear in mind that your text-books, with all their contents, are not an end, but a means to an end--a means to help us get the highest, the best, the purest, and the most beautiful things out of life." the tuskegee trained boy or girl has set before him every hour in the day, and every day in the year, the substantial educational ideals here set forth. books, valuable as they are, and nowhere more thoroughly reckoned as such than here, are only a means to an end: this is the gospel preached by the tuskegee teacher. life is the great, the eternal thing; the serving of one's fellows, the ministering unto the needy of a groping, developing people--this is the thing not forgotten, but ever constantly enforced by precept and by example. the many old and time-worn frame buildings are being replaced by finely built and imposing brick and stone structures; the tallow dip and antiquated oil-lamp and gas-jet, as illuminators, have paled before the more brilliant white light of electricity, installed by tuskegee students and operated by them. patience and faith!--these are tuskegee's watchwords and her standard virtues. what can not be accomplished to-day will certainly be accomplished to-morrow. so, in its larger outlook and household anxieties, tuskegee institute teachers are confident that the things taught and enforced by example and precept will justify their efforts in helping to make a dependent people independent, a distracted people confident, and an humble people to thrill with pride in itself and in its best men and women. thus it is that tuskegee institute has never been satisfied with being merely a school, concerned wholly with its recitations and training in shop and field. every student who carries a diploma from these grounds is urged not to hang that diploma on the wall as an ornament, as an evidence of individual superiority, but to make it mean something constructive and life-giving to every one in the community where he must live and work. the young men and women who are trained for mission work in foreign countries are not more carefully trained in the spirit of consecration than are these young men and women trained at tuskegee for the work of creating better economic and social conditions among their own people. it is not necessary to state here what has already been accomplished in many parts of the south by tuskegee graduates. the selected examples set forth in this book are evidence enough. it is sufficient to say that the tuskegee institute is determined to become more and more a distinctive influence among the regenerative agencies that are gradually bringing order out of chaos, and justice, peace, and happiness out of the wretched disorders of a painful past. it is easy to trace the influence of such well-established institutions as harvard and yale in the progressive life of the american people. the sons of harvard and yale almost dominate civilization in america. in another sense, it is possible for tuskegee to have a like influence in the many things that must be accomplished in the south, before love and justice shall supplant race prejudice and race antagonism. this reaching out helpfully in all directions where help is needed is the distinguishing feature of tuskegee. this race-loving spirit gives it a largeness of view and purpose that saves both its teachers and pupils from being narrow and self-centered. take from tuskegee all this "vision splendid," and it will at once shrink into common-place insignificance. "set your ideals high," says the distinguished man who here is principal as he was founder, "and in your efforts to reach them you become strong for greater things." it is but truth to say that no institution in all the land, whether for white or black education, stands for higher and more generous ideals. unless the young man who goes away from tuskegee as blacksmith, carpenter, printer, or as any other mechanic, is something more than these, he has been incapable of perceiving and taking in the ideals that go with these accomplishments. he has been taught over and over again to "hitch his wagon to the stars," and if he fail to do so, the fault is in himself, and not in tuskegee. as between a poor doctor and a poor carpenter, there is but scant choice. they are both failures and to be avoided. honor in one is as precious as in the other. honor and efficiency--these, therefore, are the ideal test of every son and daughter that passes out of these grounds into the larger world of work and responsibility. what a terrible task it has been and still is to teach the lessons of the upward spirit: "god's in his heaven, all's well with the world." hope is strength and discouragement is weakness. everything that is false and unjust and wrong is transitory. those who are brave enough to solve problems shall be more honored of mankind than those who create problems which they make no effort to solve. there can be no liberty without intelligence, no independence without industry, and no power for man, and no charm for woman, without character. these are some of the ideals toward which all our teaching leads; without these there would be no tuskegee; with them, as its very life and spirit and inspiration, tuskegee shall lead into more ways of peace, happiness, and power than we of this generation have yet dreamed of, or realized. ii resources and material equipment by warren logan when the alabama legislature in passed an act to establish a normal school for colored people at tuskegee and appropriated for it $ , yearly, it made no provision whatever for land or buildings; these were left to be provided for by the people who were to be benefited by the school. here was almost a case of being required to make bricks without straw. but as matters have turned out, this neglect was the best thing that could have happened to the school. first it gave opportunity for the employment of those splendid qualities of pluck, self-help, and perseverance which have distinguished mr. washington so preeminently in the building of tuskegee. moreover, the state has contributed nothing to the school in the way of land or buildings; it has not sought to control the property of the institution, leaving it free to be managed by the board of trustees. the school was opened on the th of july, , in an old church building in the town of tuskegee, which lies nearly two miles from the present school-grounds. later in the same year the growth of the school made it necessary to obtain additional room, which was found in a dilapidated shanty standing near the church and which had been used as the village schoolhouse since the war. these buildings were in such bad condition that when it rained it was necessary for the teacher and students to use umbrellas in order to protect themselves from the elements while recitations were being conducted. students who came from a distance boarded in families in the town, where the conditions of living were very much like those in their own homes, and these were far below proper standards. mr. washington, understanding the great need for colored people to be trained in correct ways of living as well as to be educated in books, determined to secure a permanent location for the school, with buildings in which the students might live under the care and influence of teachers day and night, during the whole period of their connection with the school. [illustration: warren logan. treasurer of the school.] it so happened at this time that there was an old farm of acres in the western part of the town of tuskegee, well suited to be the site of such a school, which could be had for $ . but where was the money to be found to pay for it? mr. washington himself had no money, and the people of the town, much interested as they were in the enterprise, were wholly unable to give direct financial assistance. general j. f. b. marshall, then treasurer of the hampton institute in virginia, was appealed to for a loan of $ with which to make the first payment. this he gladly made, and the farm was secured. in a few months sufficient money was raised from entertainments and subscriptions in the north and south (one friend in connecticut giving $ ) to return the loan of general marshall and pay the balance due on the purchase of the property. the land thus secured, preparations were at once begun to put up a school building, toward the cost of which mr. a. h. porter, of brooklyn, n. y., gave $ , the structure being named porter hall in recognition of mr. porter's generosity. in this building, which has three stories and a basement, all the operations of the school were for a time conducted. in the basement were a kitchen, dining-room, laundry, and commissary. the first story was devoted to academic and industrial class-rooms; in the second was an assembly-room, where devotions and public exercises for the whole school were held, while the third was given up to dormitories. from this small beginning has grown the present extensive plant at tuskegee, comprising , acres of land, on which are located buildings of all kinds devoted to the uses of the institution. some idea of the impression which the size of the school makes upon one who sees it for the first time may be gathered from the remark of a northern visitor, who, upon returning to his home from a trip through the south, was asked by a friend if he had seen "booker washington's school." "school?" he replied. "i have seen booker washington's city." about acres constitute the present campus, the rest of the school-lands being devoted to farms, truck-gardens, pastures, brick-yards, etc. running through the grounds proper and extending the entire distance of the farms for two or three miles is a driveway, on either side of which, and on roads leading from it, are located the buildings of the institute. these, for the most part, are brick structures, and have been built by the students themselves under the direction of their instructors in the various building trades. the plans for these buildings have been drawn in the architectural-drawing division of the institute. while not as ornate as the buildings of some other institutions, they are substantial and well adapted to the uses for which they are intended. the newer buildings, constructed in the last ten years, are more artistic and imposing, showing great improvement in matters of architectural design and finish. not only have the students performed the building operations that entered into the construction of these buildings, but they have also manufactured the brick, and have prepared much of the wooden and other materials that were used. we sometimes speak of a man as self-made, but i have never known another great educational institution that could be so described. tuskegee, itself, is distinctively self-made. porter hall was completed and occupied in the spring of . the following year a brick building for girls was undertaken, and two years later completed. this building, named alabama hall, is rectangular in shape and four stories high. it contains a kitchen and dining-room, reception-rooms, apartments of the dean of the woman's department, and sleeping-rooms. there was no special gift made for this building, the money required for its erection being taken from the general funds of the institute as they could be spared. a wing added later gave more space for dining-rooms and provided a number of sleeping-rooms. the money used in putting up the buildings at tuskegee is made to do double duty. in the first place, it provides the buildings for which it was primarily given, and, in the second place, furnishes opportunities for young men to learn the trades which are employed in their construction. following closely upon the completion of alabama hall, there was begun another brick structure to be used as a dormitory for young men. olivia davidson hall bears the honored name of the school's first and only assistant principal. miss davidson performed a conspicuous part in establishing the school and placing its claim for support before the public. this building is a four-story structure, and the first of the school's buildings for which the plans were made by the teacher of architectural drawing. the plans for all the buildings put up by the institute are now made in the division of architectural drawing in charge of mr. r. r. taylor, a graduate of the massachusetts institute of technology, who is ably assisted by mr. w. s. pittman, a graduate of tuskegee and of the drexel institute in philadelphia. the need for a building to house the mechanical industries which, until , had been conducted in temporary frame buildings on different parts of the grounds, led to the erection of cassedy hall, a three-story brick building standing at the east entrance to the grounds. cassedy hall, together with a smaller building devoted to a blacksmith shop and foundry, was used for the purpose mentioned, until three years ago, when all the industries for men were moved into the slater-armstrong memorial trades building, at the opposite end of the grounds. through the generosity of mr. george f. peabody, of new york, cassedy hall has since been converted into a dormitory for young men, and serves admirably for this purpose. phelps hall, which is the bible training school building, is the gift of two new york ladies who desired to do something to improve the negro ministry. the building is of wood and has three stories, containing a lecture-hall, recitation-rooms, library, and sleeping-rooms for young men. a broad veranda extends entirely around the building. last year there were enrolled fifty-six students for the course in bible training, and among them were a number of ordained ministers who have regular charges. phelps hall was dedicated in , dr. lyman abbott preaching the dedicatory sermon and general samuel c. armstrong delivering an address, which was among his last public utterances. in the next year science hall (now called thrasher hall, after the lamented max bennett thrasher) was built. this is a handsome three-story building, with recitation-rooms and laboratories in the first two stories, and sleeping-rooms for teachers and boys in the third story. about this time a frame cottage with two stories and attic was built by the school as a residence for mr. washington. this he occupied until the gift of two brooklyn friends enabled him to erect on his own lot, just opposite the school-grounds, his present handsome brick residence, where he dispenses a generous hospitality to the school's guests and to the teachers of the institute. the cottage which he vacated was afterward utilized for a time as a library, but now is the home of director bruce of the academic department. alabama hall, already mentioned, soon proved inadequate to meet the needs of the woman's department. a long one-story frame building, having the shape of a letter t, was then erected just in the rear of alabama hall. it has been used for girls' sleeping-rooms until this year, when it was taken down to make room for a park and playground for young women. there were also successively built for the growing demands of this department, and in the vicinity of the original girls' building, willow cottage, hamilton cottage, parker memorial home, huntington hall, and only this last year douglass hall. huntington hall is the gift of mrs. collis p. huntington. in design, finish, and appointments it is one of the best buildings owned by the school. three years ago a wealthy but unostentatious gentleman, who would not permit his name to be used in connection with his benefaction, gave the school $ , for a building for girls, suggesting that the structure should bear the name of some noted negro. douglass hall was erected with this money and named in honor of that great leader of the race, frederick douglass. it is a two-story brick building, with a basement in its central section, and contains sleeping-rooms, a reception-room, bathrooms, and a large assembly-room with a seating capacity or . in this room the dean of the woman's department holds meetings with the girls on questions of health, morals, and manners. the building is heated with steam and lighted by electricity. all in all, douglass hall is the best of the buildings so far built by the institute, and is a fitting monument to the man whose name it bears. the slater-armstrong memorial agricultural building was completed and dedicated in . hon. james wilson, secretary of agriculture of the united states, honored the school by his presence and an address on the occasion of the formal opening of this building. it is a brick structure of two-and-a-half stories, with recitation-rooms, laboratory, museums, library, and an office for the use of the department of agriculture. in addition to its appropriation of $ , for the general work of the school, the state of alabama makes an annual appropriation of $ , for the maintenance of an agricultural experiment station. the plots of the station and the school-farm are in close proximity to the agricultural building, and on these the young men taking the course in agriculture put in practise the theories which they learn in the class-room. many important experiments have been undertaken by the station, of particular interest being those relating to soil building, the hybridization of sea-island cotton with some of the common short-staple varieties, fertilizer tests with potatoes, by which it has been shown that it is possible to raise as much as bushels per acre on light, sandy soil such as that comprising the school-lands, while the average yield in the same part of alabama is not more than bushels to the acre. the next building of importance to be put up after the agricultural building was the chapel. another gift from the two new york ladies who gave the money for phelps hall made possible this magnificent structure, admittedly one of the most imposing church edifices in the south. it is built of brick, , , bricks entering into its construction, all of which were laid by student masons. it has stone trimmings, and in shape is a cross, the nave with choir having a length of feet, and the distance through the transept being feet. there are anterooms and a study for the chaplain of the institute. including the gallery the seating capacity is , . here all gatherings of the school for religious and other purposes are now held. the great tuskegee negro conference that assembles in february of each year holds its meetings in the chapel. near the chapel are the barracks, two long, roughly constructed one-story frame buildings, which are used as sleeping quarters for young men until they can be better housed in permanent buildings. until the mechanical industries at tuskegee were conducted in cassedy hall and some adjoining frame buildings. in that year they were moved into the commodious quarters which the then just completed slater-armstrong memorial trades building furnished. this building is rectangular in shape, is built about a central court, and covers more space than any other of the school buildings. in its outside dimensions it is feet by feet. the front half of the building is two stories high, the rear half one story. it is constructed of brick, with a tin roof, and, like the other larger buildings at the institute, has steam heat and electric light. the money for this building came in part from the j. w. and belinda l. randall charities fund of boston and the steadfast friend of the school, mr. george foster peabody, of new york. there is a tablet in the building bearing the following inscription: "this tablet is erected in memory of the generosity of j. w. and belinda l. randall, of boston, massachusetts, from whose estate $ , were received toward the erection of the building." the various shops in this building are fairly well equipped with tools and apparatus to do the work required of them and to teach the trades pursued by the young men. taking the machine division as an example, we find it supplied with one -inch lathe, one -inch lathe, one -inch planer, one -inch shaping-machine, one -inch drill-press, one - / -inch pipe-cutting and threading machine, one brown and sharpe tool-grinder, one sensitive drill-press, and, of course, the customary tools that go with these machines. the electric-lighting plant is also located in this building. not only does this division light the buildings and grounds of the institute, but it furnishes light to individuals in the town of tuskegee, which is, at present, without other electric-lighting facilities. in the school suffered the loss by fire of its well-appointed barn, together with some of its finest milch cows. this is the only serious fire that has occurred in the history of the school--a record almost unparalleled in an establishment so large. this fact has led to the school being able to get insurance at a lower rate than is generally given to educational institutions. it was not until that the school fully recovered from the loss of its barn. in this year friends in brooklyn gave the money with which to rebuild the barn on a larger scale. it was deemed wise not to put all the money into one building, but to erect numbers of smaller ones and locate them so as to minimize the fire risk. accordingly, plans were made to build a hennery, creamery, dairy-barn, horse-barn, carriage-house, tool-house, piggery, silos, and slaughter-house. all these buildings were at once put up, and are now giving effective service. at present the school owns horses and colts, mules, cows and calves, pigs, and fowls of different kinds. these animals are all of good stock, some of them being thoroughbreds, and are cared for by the students who work in the agricultural department. dorothy hall, the building which accommodates the girls' industrial department, was built in on the side of the driveway opposite the boys' trades building. this building is the gift of the two new york ladies who gave the chapel and phelps hall. it serves its purpose admirably, the rooms being large, well lighted, and airy. here are conducted all the trades taught to young women, including sewing, dressmaking, millinery, laundering, cooking, housekeeping, mattress-making, upholstering, broom-making, and basketry. as with the boys' trades, there is a very fair equipment of accessories for proper teaching. in point of time, the next important building provided was the carnegie library, mr. carnegie giving $ , for the building and furnishings. the structure is two stories high, with massive corinthian columns on the front. it contains, besides the library proper, a large assembly-room, an historical room, study-rooms, and offices for the librarian. the building and the furniture are the product of student labor. in , with $ , given by mrs. quincy a. shaw, of boston, and $ contributed by graduates of the institute as a nucleus, the children's house was built. this is a one-story frame building of good proportions, in which the primary school of the town is taught. it is the practise-school for students of the institute who mean to teach. a kindergarten has also been established. mr. rockefeller has given a dormitory for boys, which was completed and occupied last year. the lack of adequate sleeping quarters for young men, from which the school has suffered from the beginning, was very materially supplied in rockefeller hall, which is a three-story brick structure, furnishing accommodations for students. this need for dormitories has been still further met through the gift of three brick cottages by miss julia emery, an american now living in london. two of these buildings were finished last year, and young men are now living in them. the third is nearing completion. all are two stories high, with a hall running through the middle, and contain rooms of good size. until last year the offices of the institute were scattered over the grounds wherever room could be found. a new york friend, who does not permit the use of his name, seeing the need of the school for a building in which the offices might be concentrated, thus greatly increasing the efficiency of its administrative work, gave $ , for this purpose. the office building, completed in the latter part of , is the result of this benefaction. it is two-and-a-half stories high, and contains the offices of the principal, the principal's secretary, treasurer, auditor, business agent, commandant, registrar, and the post-office and savings department. [illustration: the office building in process of erection. student carpenters shown at work.] the most pretentious building owned by the institute is the collis p. huntington memorial building, the new home of the academic department, which is the gift of mrs. huntington as a memorial to her husband, who was one of tuskegee's stanchest supporters. it is built near the site of the original building, porter hall, which it displaces as the center of the academic work of the school. the outside dimensions are feet by feet. it is four stories in height. besides recitation-rooms for all the classes, it contains a gymnasium in the basement for young women, and an assembly-room on the top floor capable of seating persons. the finishing is in yellow pine. the buildings of the institute show a steady progression in quality of workmanship, materials, and architectural design and efficiency, from the rather rough, wooden porter hall erected by hired workmen in to the stately huntington hall built by students in . located at different points on the grounds and on lots detached are cottages occupied as residences by teachers and officers of the institute. the furnishings for all the buildings, as well as the buildings themselves, have been made by the students in the various shops, who at the same time were learning trades and creating articles of use. the annual cost of conducting the institution is, in round numbers, $ , . this may seem high, but when certain facts in regard to the work are borne in mind it will not appear exorbitant. in the first place, there are really three schools at tuskegee--a day-school, a night-school, and a trade-school. such a system makes necessary the employment of a larger number of teachers than would be needed in a purely academic institution holding only one session a day. teachers in the trade-school, with special technical training, can be obtained only by paying them higher salaries than are paid to those who simply teach in the class-rooms. secondly, and principally, it is expensive to employ student labor to do the work of the school. by the time students become fairly proficient in their trades and reach the point where their services begin to be profitable, their time at the institution has expired, and a new, untrained set take their places, so that the school is constantly working on new material or raw recruits. then, too, tuskegee is still in the formative period of its growth as to buildings, laying-out and improvement of grounds, and equipment of its various departments. when the school's needs in these directions shall have been met, and the negro parent shall become able to pay a larger share of the cost of educating his children, the expenses to the public of running the school may be materially reduced. money for the support of the school is derived principally from the following sources, viz.: the state of alabama, $ , ; the john f. slater fund, $ , ; the general education board, $ , ; the peabody fund, $ , ; the institute's endowment fund, $ , ; contributions of persons and charitable organizations, $ , ; a total of $ , . the individual contributions are, for the most part, small, and come from persons of moderate means. yet the institution annually receives some large gifts toward its expenses from those who are blessed with wealth. especial appeals are made by the institution for scholarships of $ each, in order to pay the tuition of students who provide for their other expenses themselves largely by their work for the school, but who are unable to contribute anything toward the item of teaching. these scholarships are not turned over to the students, but are held by the institution and assigned for their benefit, the aim being to do nothing for students which they can do for themselves, and thus help to develop in them a spirit of manly and womanly self-reliance. the majority of the large donations, aside from those for endowment, have been for buildings and the purchase of additional farm-lands made necessary by the enlargement of the school's agricultural work. what may be regarded as the greatest need of the institution is an adequate endowment which will put it upon a permanent basis and make its future certain. a gratifying beginning in the building up of an endowment has already been made. it is a fact, still well remembered by the public, that mr. andrew carnegie has given to the endowment fund the princely sum of $ , . before that time $ , had been collected from other sources for the same purpose, the largest single contribution toward this amount being $ , from the late collis p. huntington. as already stated, the income from the present endowment is $ , , out of which several annuities are paid. this is only a little more than one-fourth of the amount that must be had each year to pay the expenses of the school. it will require an endowment of at least $ , , to yield an income adequate to the present needs of the institution alone. iii the academic aims by roscoe conkling bruce the negro needs industrial training in eminent degree, because the capacity for continuous labor is a requisite of civilized living; because, indeed, the very first step in social advance must be economic; because the industrial monopoly with which slavery encompassed black men has fallen shattered before the trumpet-blast of white labor and eager competition; and, finally, because no instrument of moral education is more effective upon the mass of mankind than cheerful and intelligent work. these ideas powerfully voiced, together with an unusually magnanimous attitude toward the white south, have set the man who toiled doggedly up from slavery, upon a hill apart. these things are distinctive of this man; they suggest his temper, his spirit, his point of view; but they do not exhaust his interests. similarly, the distinctive feature of tuskegee--adequate provision for industrial training--sets it upon a hill apart, but by a whimsical perversity this major feature is in some quarters assumed to be the whole school. a moment's reflection shows such a view to be mistaken. [illustration: roscoe c. bruce. director of the academic department.] the very industries at tuskegee presuppose a considerable range of academic study. tuskegee does not graduate hoe-hands or plowboys. agriculture is, of course, fundamental--fundamental in recognition of the fact that the negro population is mainly a farming population, and of the truth that something must be done to stem the swelling tide which each year sweeps thousands of black men and women and children from the sunlit monotony of the plantation to the sunless iniquity of the slums, from a drudgery that is not quite cheerless to a competition that is altogether merciless. but the teaching of agriculture, even in its elementary stages, presupposes a considerable amount of academic preparation. to be sure, a flourishing garden may be made and managed by bright-eyed tots just out of the kindergarten, but how can commercial fertilizers be carefully analyzed by a boy who has made no study of general chemistry? and how can a balanced ration be adjusted by an illiterate person? similarly, the girl in the laundry does not make soap by rote, but by principle; and the girl in the dressmaking-shop does not cut out her pattern by luck, or guess, or instinct, or rule of thumb, but by geometry. and so the successful teaching of the industries demands no mean amount of academic preparation. in this lies the technical utility of tuskegee's academic department. then, too, a public service has been rendered by hampton and tuskegee in showing that industrial training--the system in which the student learns by doing and is paid for the commodities he produces--may be so managed as to educate. among the excellencies of industrial training, i would state that the severe commercial test in which sentiment plays no part is applied as consistently to the student's labor as is the force of gravitation to a falling body. here we must keep in mind the unavoidably concrete nature of the product, whether satisfactory or not; the discipline such training affords in organized endeavor; the stimulus it offers to all the virtues of a drudgery which, though it repel an unusually ardent and sensitive temperament, yet wears a precious jewel in its head; and an exceptionally keen sense of responsibility, since on occasion large amounts of money and the esteem of the school at large and the lives of a student's fellows depend upon his circumspection and skill. such training educates. but that would indeed be a sorry program of education which blinked the fact that the student must be rendered responsive to the nobler ideals of the human race, that his eyes must be opened to the immanent values of life. if a clear title to forty acres and a mule represents the extreme upper limit of a black man's ambition, why call him a man? if a bank-account represents the sum of his happiness, that happiness lacks humanity. if you would educate for life, you must arouse spiritual interests. "the life is more than meat, and the body than raiment." through history and literature the tuskegee student is brought to develop a criticism, an appreciation of life and the worthier ends of human striving. to such a discipline, however elementary, the critic will not, i take it, begrudge the name "education." and if the reader wavers in contemplating the problems of trudging negroes, remember that the type of negro who is a menace to the community is he who, in moments of leisure, responds to somewhat grosser incentives than the poetry of longfellow, the romance of hawthorne, and the philosophy of emerson. i would reassure your idealism with this counsel of prudence. another question presses: does the value of tuskegee lie in the fact that the school equips for happy lives merely as many persons as are subjected to the immediate play of its influences; that its circle of efficiency includes only as many as are enrolled in its various courses? to that question every teacher in the school and the mass of graduates and students would give an emphatic, a decisive, no! the real value of the school lies in the service rendered to the people of the communities where our young folks go to live and labor. now, work in wood and iron, however assiduously prosecuted, never erected in any human being's heart a passion for social service; a finer material must be used, a material finer than gold. and so the plan and deeper intent of tuskegee institute are incapable of realization without the incentives supplied by history and literature. finally, there is a trade for which the academic studies, supplemented by specific normal instruction, are the direct preparation--teaching school. in the census year there were over , negro school-teachers in the united states, and in the decade - the ratio of increase was more than twice as rapid as that of the negro population; but, nevertheless, there were in more than twice as many teachers in the south per , white children as per , colored. but such data can not even approximately indicate the relative amounts of teaching enjoyed by these two classes of children, for the statistical method can not express the incalculable disparity in teaching-efficiency. a friend of mine--a graduate of brown university--was for several years a member of a board which corrected the examination-papers of negro candidates for teachers' certificates in a certain southern state where the school facilities for the negro population are exceptionally good; but he confessed to me that repeatedly not a paper submitted deserved a passing mark, but the board was "simply compelled to grant certificates in order to provide teachers enough to go around." nor is such a dearth of black pedagogues in the least extraordinary. the mission of tuskegee institute is largely to supply measurably well-equipped teachers for the schools--teachers able and eager to teach gardening and carpentry as well as grammar and arithmetic, teachers who seek to organize the social life of their communities upon wholesome principles, tactfully restraining grossness and unobtrusively proffering new and nobler sources of enjoyment. and so the academic studies are wrought into the essential scheme of tuskegee's work. let us inspect with some closeness the organization of the institution. the student-body is fundamentally divided into day-students and night-students. the night-students work in the industries, largely at common labor, all day and every day, and go to school at night, thus paying their current board bills, and accumulating such credits at the treasurer's office as will later defray their expenses in the day-school. the day-school students are divided perpendicularly through the classes into two sections, section no. working in the industries every other day for three days a week and attending academic classes the remaining three days, while this situation is exactly reversed for section no. . thus every week-day half of each day-school class is in the academic department, while the other half is in the industrial. this arrangement induces a wholesome rivalry between the students of the two sections, and effects an equal distribution of the working force and skill over every week-day. the day-school students consist, then, of two classes of persons: those who, as night-students, have accumulated credits sufficient to pay their way in the day-school, and those whose families are able to pay a considerable part of their expenses. the earnings of a student in the day-school can not be large enough to pay his current board bill, but such a student is ordinarily enjoying the valuable advantage of working at one of the more skilled trades. the night-school student, perhaps, because of greater maturity in years and experience, may be relied upon to apply himself with the utmost diligence to his academic studies; so, in much less than half the time-allotment, he advances in his academic studies about half as fast as the day-school student. this schedule did not spring full-fledged from the seething brain of any theorist; it is no fatuous imitation of the educational practise of some remote and presumptively dissimilar institution; it has, so to say, elaborated itself in adjustment to the actual needs of the particular situation. this provision boasts not of novelty, but of utility; though not ideal, it is practicable. but the central fact is that this tuskegee plan, while clearly securing ample time for the teaching of the industries, makes possible no mean amount of academic study. in order more clearly to exhibit the grounds of this proposition, i shall refer in some slight detail to the course of study in english and in mathematics. mathematics represents the group of academic studies which possess direct technical value for the industries; moreover, it is a pretty good index of the grades comprehended in the academic department. in the lowest class in the day-school--there is one lower in the night-school--the arithmetical tables are mastered, and fractions introduced and developed with the use of liquid, dry, surface, and time measures; whereas in the senior class algebra is studied through quadratics and plane geometry through the "area of polygons." that is to say, the lowest day-school class is about equivalent to a fourth grade in the north, and the senior to the first or the second year (barring the foreign languages) in a northern high school. [illustration: a portion of the school grounds.] despite a much smaller time-allotment, our students, roughly speaking, keep pace with northern students because they are older and somewhat more serious, because the course is shortened by the elimination of uselessly perplexing topics in arithmetic like compound proportion and cube root, but chiefly because the utility of mathematics is made vivid, and vigorous interest aroused by its immediate application in class-room and shop to problems arising in the industries. our students are not stuffed like sausages with rules and definitions, mathematical or other; they ascend to general principles through the analysis of concrete cases. english serves to represent the group of studies that exert a liberalizing influence upon the student, that possess a cultural rather than a technical value. from oral lessons in language in the lower classes, the students advance to a modicum of technical grammar in the middle of the course, and hence to the rhetoric of the senior year. moreover, an unusually large amount of written composition is insisted upon, the compositions being used not merely to discipline the student in chaste feeling, consecutive thinking, and efficient expression, but also to sharpen his powers of observation and to stimulate him to pick out of his daily experience the elements that are significant. school readers are used in the lower classes because the readers present economically and compactly a whole gamut of literary styles and forms. these readers are importantly supplemented and gradually superseded by certain classics appropriate to the grades. the classic, whether robinson crusoe, or ivanhoe, rip van winkle, the house of seven gables, or the merchant of venice, presents an artistic whole, and permits the students to acquire some sense of literary structure. the dominant motive in literary instruction is, perhaps, esthetic, but i am convinced that the ethical influence of this instruction at tuskegee is profound and abiding. however liberal the provisions of the academic curriculum, the value of the department is finally determined by the devotion and ability of the teachers. universities and normal schools, and the seasoned staffs of public-school systems--from these sources, whether in massachusetts, california, or tennessee, principal washington has gathered a force of academic teachers of rare ability and devotion. eminent for personality rather than for method, these teachers are no tyros in method. in such hands the excellent features of the curriculum are raised to the n-th power. finally, academic and industrial teachers are animated with a sentiment of solidarity, with an esprit de corps, which solves many a problem of conflicting duty and jurisdiction, and which must impress the student with the essential unity of tuskegee's endeavor to equip men and women for life. the crude, stumbling, sightless plantation-boy who lives in the environment of tuskegee for three or four years, departs with an address, an alertness, a resourcefulness, and above all a spirit of service, that announce the educated man. [illustration: another portion of the school grounds.] iv what girls are taught, and how by mrs. booker t. washington "we wants our baby gal, mary lou, to come up to tuskegee to git eddicated and learn seamstress; kase we doesn't want her to work lak we is," says the farmer. "i wish to help you plant this new industry, broom-making," writes miss susan b. anthony, "because you are trying so earnestly to teach your girls other means of livelihood besides sewing, housework, and cooking." this is the problem we have been trying to solve at tuskegee for over twenty years: what handiwork can we give our girls with their academic training that will better fit them to meet the demand for skilled teachers in the various avenues of the industrial and academic world now opening so rapidly to women? [illustration: mrs. booker t. washington. director of industries for girls.] learning to sew, with the ultimate end of becoming a full-fledged dressmaker, has been the height of ambition with the major part of our girls when brought to the institution by their horny-handed fathers and mothers fresh from the soil of alabama, georgia, tennessee, or florida. after the last gripless hand-shake, with the tremulous, "take care of yourself, honey," the hard-working father and mother have turned their faces homeward, visibly affected by the separation, but resolved to shoulder the sacrifice of the daughter's much-needed help on the plantation, which oftentimes is all that they are able to contribute toward her education. not infrequently the girl has begun in the lowest class in night-school. her parents send her articles of clothing now and then on christmas; but the largest contributions to her wardrobe come from the boxes and barrels sent to the institution by northern friends. she has remained in school during the summer vacation, and within two years has entered day-school with enough to her credit to finish her education. when the happy parents return to see their daughter graduated, after six or seven long years, their faces are radiant because of their realized hopes. when they see their white-robed daughter transformed from the girl they brought here clad in the homespun of the old days, and receiving her certificate, the tears come unchecked, and the moving lips no doubt form a whispered prayer. in a recent class there was graduated a young woman of twenty-five. she came to the school in her eighteenth year from the "piney woods" of alabama. she entered the lowest preparatory class in night-school and was assigned to work in the laundry. she was earnest and faithful in work and study. she passed on from class to class, remaining at school to work during the vacation. after two years in the laundry she was given an opportunity to learn plain sewing in that division. she was promoted to the dressmaking division at the end of the year, and received her certificate at the close of two years, after working every day and attending night-school. she spent the last two years of her school life in the millinery division, and received her certificate from that division with one from the academic department on her graduation. during these two years she taught the sewing-classes in the night-school of the town of tuskegee. at the outset she bought the materials used with $ , left over from the sales of the previous year. from this small nest-egg as a starter, seventeen girls were supplied with work. but so efficient and frugal was the young teacher that she sold articles, bought supplies for her class, and ended the year with $ . in the treasury. this is just a leaf from the history of one girl. of the girls entering the institution during this year ( -' ), have remained for the full scholastic year. about per cent came from country districts all over the united states. a large majority of them asked to enter the dressmaking division to learn that trade; but, after the field of industries was opened to their view, they were scattered about in the different divisions, a very large per cent still leaning to the side of dressmaking and millinery. taking into account the number of girls working their way through at their trades by day and attending night-school, they were distributed as follows: horticulture, ; training-kitchen, ; housekeeping, ; dining-room, ; hospital, ; kitchen-gardening, ; poultry-raising, ; tailoring, ; dairying, ; printing, ; broom-making, ; mattress-making, ; upholstering, ; laundering, ; plain sewing, ; millinery, ; dressmaking, . all the girls were required to take cooking twice a week and of the girls in the normal classes took basketry. as the trades were the great attraction in the school curriculum, it was deemed necessary to separate the school into two divisions, that students might have an opportunity to receive instruction equally in the academic and industrial departments. this year this scheme worked successfully by an arrangement that placed one division in the academic department on mondays, wednesdays, and fridays, while the other was at work, and the other division in the trades department on thursdays, fridays, and saturdays, while the other was in school, and so on regularly. girl life at tuskegee is strenuous. though study and work are constantly to the fore, character is effectively developed with brain and muscle, and the well-earned recreation-hour comes just frequently enough to lend the highest source of pleasure. though the girl usually comes with a hazy conception of what the days in school will really mean for the ripening of those powers that she earnestly intends to use for the best development of herself, there is always a spirit of learning, that she may be of service to others. that is what counts in the school-days of the average girl in her struggle for more light. the girl, coming a stranger from her home in the city or country, is lost in a crowd of girls new to dormitory life. new surroundings and new conditions are everywhere. new emotions, new purposes, new resolutions chase one another in her thoughts, and she becomes a stranger to herself only to find her bearings first in her own room. here maine and california, far-away washington and central america, meet on common ground. alabama and georgia alone feel kinship from geographical propinquity. beds, one double and one single, chairs, a table, mirror, bookcase, wardrobe, wash-stand, and screen, all manufactured on the grounds, compose the simple furniture of the room. but a few pictures, a strip of carpet before each bed, a bright table-covering, soon give the room the appearance of home, and the untried life has begun. the duty-list assigns to each girl her work, and perhaps the first lessons in order and system will be fairly instituted. how many and varied are the associations that cluster about the life of the girl in her room, that refuge from a day of discouragement in schoolroom or workshop, and a haven of peace during the quiet hours of the sabbath! roommate meets roommate, quick to resent and as quick to forgive--and the petty strife and envy suppressed at birth only serve to discipline them for the coming days. up with the rising bell at five, the duties of the room are almost finished when the girl leaves her beds to air while she takes her six o'clock breakfast. social amenities, the niceties of table-training, and the tricks of speech that betray the sectional birthright, proclaim to the ever-observant table-mates the status of each newcomer, and she rises or falls in estimation just so far as her metal rings true. thus another element enters into her life, one that will prove a potent force in balancing character; for the frankly expressed criticisms of schoolmates play no small part in the development of students. if a girl be one of the forty-five waitresses on the eighty-nine tables of the dining-room, she eats her breakfast as the other students march out, then finishes her room-duties and is ready for work at ten minutes of seven wherever she happens to be assigned. if she is a dishwasher, she does that work, waits for inspection of the table that she has set, finishes her room-duty, and is admitted into her work division at half past seven. gardening and greenhouse work are becoming so attractive through the nature-study classes of the academic department that there are constant applications for transfers from the sewing divisions to this outside work. equipped in an overall gingham apron and sunbonnet of the same material, the girl begins her duties, and no prouder girl can be found than she who takes her first basket of early spring vegetables to the teachers' home. if the day is to be spent with the whole agricultural force of girls picking strawberries for the tables of the boarding department and the local market, the stage takes the group out to the patch two miles back on the farm--and that is happiness unalloyed for the schoolgirl. when she correlates her outing with her school work on the day following, there is seen nature at first-hand in the class-room. if other classmates have been working in the plain-sewing division turning out cotton underwear and plain articles of clothing to supply the demand of the salesroom of the institution, the lesson in english has a natural, practical bearing, arising from the fact that one hour has been spent with the theory class of the workroom studying the warp and woof of the materials used, perhaps the sixth or seventh lesson in a series on cotton, introduced to the class first in its native heath. correlation comes in wherever it may, and the association of ideas obtained in class-room and workroom is closely joined. the large class of the dressmaking division, spending the day from seven until half past five making the blue uniform dresses, filling orders for tailor-made dresses in silk and cloth, measuring, drafting, cutting, and fitting, has many a representative in the schoolroom the succeeding day; and still more is the lesson varied by the practical illustrations in mathematics or the recital of the experiences of the day in the english classes. the girl in the millinery work, shaping forms, trimming hats, blending colors, drawing designs, studying textiles and fabrics for analysis in her theory classes twice during her three days of work, finds added inspiration for her three days of class-room study. if she is in the senior class, she specializes in geometry on her school-days and mechanical drawing on her work-days. when our girl has finished her course in drawing and begins one of the uniform hats worn by the hundreds of girls, she ranks among the first milliners of the land in the estimation of the beginners. she completes hat after hat, drapes them until the number meets the requirement, and then comes her own creation, a pattern hat, undersized of course, but a real dress hat and a thing of beauty. it usually finds its way to the old home for her mother and neighbors to admire. the commendation that comes back to the school is worth its weight in gold. [illustration: a class in millinery.] but there are backward learners. some there are who excel in embroidery, crocheting, making ties and other fancy articles, but who have no aptitude for shaping and trimming hats. they plod on, and win at last. then there is the girl whose parents wish her to open a millinery establishment in their town. she tries, but finally agrees with her long-suffering instructor that she would succeed at mattress-making and upholstering instead. the work in the mattress division begins with sheet, pillow-case, table-linen, and comforter-making for the endless demands of the lodging division of the boys and girls. pulling shucks for the mattress is the next step in advance, and when shucks are covered by the cotton layers in the making, they prove an excellent substitute for the hair filling of a more expensive manufacture, and they have an advantage in the matter of cleanliness. covering screen frames made in the carpentry division for the numerous rooms, caning couches, rockers, and stools, help add to the variety of work in the division. the girl is not awarded her certificate until she has completed the round of work, including the fashioning of a bedroom suite from barrels finally covered with neat-figured denim. the semiweekly theory classes are not unlike those of the plain-sewing division, and the girl is as proud of her achievement with needle, hammer, and saw as if she were an adept in lighter work. when the machinery was introduced for broom-making, the girls looked askance at the appliances. but when the broom-corn was delivered from the farm, and the pioneer girl broom-maker began threshing of the seed in the cleaner, an interest was evinced that has increased with the knowledge that the work, study, or manufacture (call it what you will) is very productive, especially in the confines of the girls' broom-factory at tuskegee institute. the poultry-yard bought the seeds threshed off the broom-stalks; the hundreds of old handles collected cost nothing, and when the wiring, stitching, and clipping were finished and the girl saw the first broom turned out, there was triumph in the fact that the industry was the most inexpensive and still the most productive of credit of all the girls' industries under the roof of dorothy hall. the evolution from the flag-straw broom used in cabins of the south to the ones now completed and labeled, creates the sensation of the girl-world in the trades school. the wonders brought out in the theory class in connection with broom-making were marvelous. broom-making has come to remain with our other girls' industries. work in the laundry presents another aspect to the onlooker, and he doubtless decides on the spur of the moment that all is drudgery here. girls are then assorting countless pieces received on mondays from students and teachers. they are placing the assorted articles in cages in the basement. two boys are filling three washers with bed-linen, and in another apartment two girls are weighing and measuring materials to make more soap to add to the boxes standing in the soap-room. girls up-stairs in the wash-room are busy rubbing at the tubs. some girls are starching, and others are sending baskets down on the elevator for girls below to hang in the drying-room. others are in the assorting-room putting away clothes-bags into numerous boxes. the ironing-room farther on is filled with busy workers. days come during every week when time is spent in the study of laundry chemistry. rust and mildew stains and scorching are some of the problems of the laundry, and they find solution. soap, starch, water, and bluing have their composite qualities and are analyzed, and no more interesting correlation is there than that of the laundry with the class-room. although each tuskegee girl is expected to become proficient in one trade at least, all are required to attend the cooking classes. girls belonging to certain classes are scattered in the various divisions, each busily engaged at her chosen trade. at the ringing of the bells in each division at stated hours, classes form and pass to the training-kitchen for their lesson in cooking. both night-school and day-school girls report every day until every girl has received her lesson weekly. the normal classes have theory and practise one hour each, the preparatory girls one hour weekly for their trades. this is true also of girls in the normal classes. they spend one hour in basketry study, making in all three hours away from their individual trades each week. theory is combined with practise, and many a fanciful thought is woven in with the reed and raffia of the indian baskets, african purses, belts, and pine-needle work-baskets. the shuck hats and foot-mats are so foreign in design that one often wonders how it were possible to utilize the same material in so widely different purposes. but our girl is progressive, and not a few instances have occurred when one has been informed of the presence of a tuskegee student in a remote country district, by the inevitable shuck hat prettily designed and worn by an utter stranger. so remunerative has been the work that many have earned money enough from the sales of these hats to purchase books for the school year and pay their entrance fees. few girls work at typesetting. those learning the trade are in the boys' trades building. the same is true of the girl tailors, who are as capable workers in the trade as the boys. the majority of these girls are in night-school, and of late years have not earned much for their work. in former years the greater body of the students were working their way through school, and by their labor would earn enough to complete their education in the academic department and the industrial as well. last year the pay schedule was reduced, and many appeals for assistance came from those battling their way through. a young girl whose monthly statement warned her that she owed the school $ , at the end of the school year wrote the following: "dear mrs. washington: i write to inform you of the enormous sum that i owe on my board bill. i am not satisfied, because i want to earn something in life, but it seems that means and opportunity will not permit me. i can't help from crying when i think how anxious and willing my people are to help me to be something, and yet they are unable to help me. "my mother has struggled to bring up eight of us, and now is to the point where she can give me no more help, and that leaves me alone to be something by myself. i am anxious to enter day-school so i may finish my course of study and my trade, and at last let my mother see me a good, noble woman, who will take care of her. "i will thank you very much for your kindness, if you will look into my board bill and help me as soon, and as much, as possible. yours gratefully." as the day girls have put in so many hours of work recently under the new system, it eliminates the necessity of so many night-school girls being paid for their work. it is to the interest of the school and its day-students that fewer work their way through school, and the time has come to teach this fact. the boy or girl for a time will stagger in the attempt to gain education, but will be all the more able, later, to reach the desired goal. all girls are taught housekeeping incidentally in the care of their rooms; but the number assigned to the regular division yearly are instructed in all branches of home industry. the course covering two years is mapped out thoroughly, and when the girls reach the senior class, all have their turn at housekeeping in the practise cottage of four rooms. no girl is graduated from the school without the finishing touch of the little home. marketing, the planning of meals, table-setting, the care of table- and bed-linen, dusting, sweeping, and everything else pertaining to a well-kept house, are taught by the teacher in domestic science who is in charge of the training-kitchen where the senior girls received their first lessons in cookery. the young housekeepers have reached the stage of efficiency when they may prepare a meal for a distinguished guest. a red-letter day in the history of the cottage came when a warm-hearted and much-beloved trustee of the institution expressed a wish to dine with the girls during one of his visits to the institution. the flowers that graced the small table on this day were brought by the distinguished visitor, who came from a stroll in the "piney" woods. the girls, apprehensive of their success in preparing the dinner for one with so cultured a palate, felt visibly relieved on the disappearance of the roast, the vegetables, and the dessert. the corn bread was voted the best ever eaten, and the dinner, as a whole, a delicious preparation. if ever, in the years to come, any of the four forgets the kindly heart that made all forget station or condition, "the right hand will forget its cunning." days pass all too quickly in work and study. after the supper at six, the girls in the normal classes go to their rooms or the carnegie library for study, the girls in the preparatory classes go to the study-hour, and those who have been working at the trades during the day spend two hours in night-school covering half as much ground as those in day-school, and consequently spend a longer period in school. at the ringing of the bell at half past eight all the girls form in line to pass to the chapel for prayers. school and work over for the day, every girl seems to lose her personality in her blue braided uniform, with her red tie and turnover on week-day evenings at chapel, and her white ribbon on sundays when she passes the platform as she marches by out of the chapel to her room. her carriage at least identifies her class-standing, and one may easily note the difference in the manner of her who has newly arrived and another who has been in school with the advantages of several years. friday afternoons mark an hour for lectures, girls' clubs, and circle entertainments. saturday evenings are spent optionally. time for class gymnastics or sewing or swimming is always spent pleasantly on schedule time during the week. our girl attends the christian endeavor sunday mornings at nine, chapel at eleven, sunday-school at one, and, after dinner is out of the way, spends the enforced quiet hour in her room from three until four o'clock reading. the band concert on the lawn calls all to listen, some walking, some sitting on the seats on the green, but all presenting a picturesque appearance in the blue skirts and white waists of the spring season. thus the days and weeks pass, mingled with the sorrows and joys of school-life, its encouragements and disappointments. the months and seasons come and go, and, before one is scarcely aware of the fact, the commencement week is here and the hundreds of young people whose lives have come in touch with one another pass on to their homes. some go out as helpful workers, giving useful service to others; many will return to complete the course begun, but all, we hope, will give out the light that will not fail. some are workers with ten talents, some with five, some with one; but all, we trust, will be using them for the upbuilding of the kingdom here on earth. v hampton institute's relation to tuskegee by robert r. moton in his eloquent address in may, , at the memorial services of general samuel chapman armstrong, founder, and for twenty-five years principal, of hampton institute, dr. booker t. washington said: "a few nights ago, while i was driving through the woods in alabama, i discerned in the distance a large, bright fire. driving to it, i soon found out that by the glow of this fire several busy hands were building a nice frame cottage, to replace a log cabin that had been the abode of the family for a quarter of a century. that fire was lighted by general armstrong years ago. what does it matter that it was twenty-five years passing through hampton to tuskegee and through the tuskegee conference to that lonely spot in those lonely woods! it was doing its work very effectually all the same, and will continue to do it through the years to come." the relations existing between tuskegee institute and hampton institute are much like those existing between a son and the father who has watched the growth and development of his child through the formative transition periods of his youth, and looks with pride upon him as he stands forth in the full bloom of manhood, enumerating successes already achieved, with large promise of greater and more far-reaching achievements for the immediate future. the child never reaches the point where he does not seek the approval and blessing of the parent, or where he refuses to accept advice and assistance if needed. in the early days of tuskegee mr. washington turned naturally and properly to hampton for anything that was needed, as he so beautifully and repeatedly testifies in his autobiography, up from slavery. for a long time the men and women who helped him were from hampton, more than fifty such having been there. while there is a large number of hampton graduates in the industrial departments of tuskegee, the teaching force, especially in the academic department, represents a dozen or more of the best colleges and universities in this country. the same may be said of hampton. up to about eight or ten years ago we at hampton spoke of tuskegee as a small hampton, but "small" no longer describes tuskegee, and i doubt seriously if _large hampton_ would be altogether proper. while tuskegee was founded on the hampton plan, and has consistently followed that plan as far as possible, and while these two great "industrial universities" are very much alike in spirit and purpose, they are, on the other hand, very dissimilar in external appearance as well as in internal conduct. each sends out into the benighted districts of the south, and hampton also into the indian country of the west, hundreds of men and women who are living influences of civilization and christianity in their deepest and most far-reaching sense, adding much to the solution of the perplexing questions with which the nation has to deal. the conditions surrounding the two schools have necessitated certain differences in their evolution. the personnel of the two institutions is different. hampton has always been governed and controlled by white people, and its teachers have come from the best families of the north. tuskegee was founded by a negro, and its teachers and officers have come from the best types of the american negro and from the best schools opened to them. hampton deals with a different class of student material, including the indian, who is almost as different in traits and characteristics from the negro as he is in feature and origin. these are, in a sense, external differences which must of necessity affect the character and internal machinery of the two institutions. this is no reflection upon either school, for each is unique and complete in its way, and any marked ethnic change in the management of either would be unfortunate. hampton is a magnificent illustration of anglo-saxon ideas in modern education. tuskegee, on the other hand, is the best demonstration of negro achievement along distinctly altruistic lines. in its successful work for the elevation and civilization of the children of the freedmen, it is also the most convincing evidence of the negroes' ability to work together with mutual regard and mutual helpfulness. when tuskegee was started there was a serious question as to whether negroes could in any large measure combine for business or educational purposes. the only cooperative institutions that had been successful among them were the church and, perhaps, the secret societies. in material development, in the rapid and steadily improving accession of student material, in enlarging powers for greater usefulness, in influence upon the educational methods of the country and the civilized world, and in the sympathy and respect it has gained for the negro through the writings and speeches of its founder and principal, the tuskegee institute has without doubt passed beyond the expectations of those who were most sanguine about its future. the tuskegee torch, from the hampton fire started so many years ago by general armstrong, has spread and is spreading light to thousands of homes and communities throughout the south, and is the greatest pride and glory of hampton institute, and a constant source of inspiration and encouragement to the devoted men and women who have always made hampton's work possible. at the conclusion of an address in a northern city in the interest of hampton, in which i had quoted dr. curry's saying that, "if hampton had done nothing more than to give us booker washington, its history would be immortality," a new england lady of apparently good circumstances and well informed, in the kindness of her heart, took me to task for distorting my facts in saying that tuskegee had grown out of hampton. she was sure that it was just the other way--that hampton was an offshoot of tuskegee. she certainly could not have paid a higher tribute to hampton, and likewise to tuskegee. for the past few years mr. washington's deserved popularity and prominence have brought tuskegee conspicuously and constantly before the public. this has in no sense been a disadvantage to hampton, but has been a distinct gain in enabling hampton to point to the foremost man of the negro race, and to the largest and most interesting and in many ways the best-managed institution of the race, as the best and most conspicuous product of the peculiar kind of education for which hampton stands. while tuskegee is, perhaps, in many respects, better known than hampton, its antecedent, hampton, is without doubt much better known and more highly thought of because of the existence of tuskegee. tuskegee in its present state of development would be one of the marvels of the age, even if the personality of its principal were left out of consideration. two thousand negroes who are scarcely a generation removed from bondage, being trained, disciplined, controlled by or more of the same racial type; , negroes being educated, morally, industrially, intellectually; an industrial university with large buildings well equipped and beautifully laid-off grounds, with a hum and bustle of industry, scientifically and practically conducted by a race considered as representing the lowest ethnic type, upsetting the theories of many well-meaning people who believe the negroes incapable of maintaining themselves in this civilization, incapable of uniting in any successful endeavor without being under the direct personal control of the dominant aryan--this is one of the greatest achievements of the race during its years of freedom. hampton, though a dozen years older, the pioneer in industrial education, equally well equipped, quite as well conducted, doing as great a work in the elevation of the races it represents, and holding just as important a place in the scheme of modern education, is not so interesting or so wonderful, because its conception and execution are the product of aryan thought and aryan ingenuity. new ideas, new discoveries, new inventions and organizations, new methods and new institutions, have been conspicuous among the white race for a thousand years. general armstrong's wisdom and foresight were truly wonderful, as indeed are also those of his worthy successor, dr. h. b. frissell, under whose direction the school's influence and usefulness have steadily increased, and along lines that general armstrong would approve; but had hampton been founded and brought to its present state of proficiency by a negro, and its dominating force been of the african race, it would be a more wonderful and interesting institution. in other words, the white race has long since passed its experimental period. it now is the standard of measurement for all other races. the negro's achievements, then, are considered largely with reference to the impression which they make upon the race of whose civilization and government he is a part. [illustration: the executive council.] tuskegee, therefore, stands out more prominently than hampton as an exponent of industrial education, and has been more severely questioned because of the imagined disloyalty in a negro's aggressive attitude for this particular kind of education for his race. there are people of both races who, while they do not on the whole oppose hampton and tuskegee in their educational methods, are honestly afraid that, because of the growing importance and influence of these two schools and others of a similar kind, the idea will be thoroughly established that the negro needs only and is capable only of the narrowest sort of industrial training--such as is represented by the "rule-of-thumb carpenter" and the "one-suspender mule-driver," who work by rule and rote rather than by principle and method, not in the slightest degree comprehending the science underlying the work in which they are engaged, whose mathematical knowledge is bounded by "the distance between two corn or cotton rows." to fix such an idea in the minds of the people of this country--which is not likely to be done--would, no doubt, be disastrous to us for generations to come, and make it much more easy than it is now to deprive the negro of the civil and political rights which are guaranteed by the constitution. it would, without question, defeat the objects for which hampton and tuskegee have persistently stood, and for which they have ever worked and are still very successfully working. no one familiar with the curricula of these two schools would for a moment raise such a question. general armstrong saw, as few people did, the moral and intellectual value of industrial training aside from its merely economic importance. he founded a school on an entirely different basis from any that had been known before--the basis of character-building through practical education, industrial training, and self-help. during the thirty-six years of its history, hampton has sent into the world about , graduates and , undergraduates, many of whom have taken with them the spark that has started many other hamptons, large and small, among the negroes of the south and the indians of the west. hampton's success, and indeed the success of any institution, depends not so much upon the scholastic attainments of its pupils as upon the work that those who have received its instruction accomplish. hampton glories, and justly, in the loyalty of its graduates and in the faithfulness with which they have inculcated and exemplified the traditions and principles for which it stands. hampton glories in tuskegee, because tuskegee has started in so many communities the spark of true life and real civilization; in the impetus and inspiration it has given, so beautiful and so perfect a consummation of the prophetic vision of hampton's founder. can the relations between the two institutions be better stated than in the words of their two founders? after a visit to tuskegee, general armstrong said: "the tuskegee school is a wonderful work and mr. washington is a remarkable man. he has carried out the idea of training the head, hand, and heart in a wonderfully complete and perfect way. this school is very much like the one at hampton, and any one can recognize the similarity, but he has made many improvements. it is not merely an imitation. it is the hampton idea adapted and worked into a most sensible and efficient application to the needs of the alabama negroes." in the same memorial address at general armstrong's funeral from which i quoted at the beginning of this paper, mr. washington said, "the rose i place on his grave is _his_ work at tuskegee." hampton and tuskegee, striving along common lines for common ends, intimate in relationship, interdependent, each frankly criticizing and freely advising, each profiting by the failures of the other, each benefiting by the successes of the other, are both working as best they may toward that "far-off divine event to which the whole creation moves." _part ii_ _autobiographies by graduates of the school_ i a college president's story by isaac fisher i was born january , , on a plantation called perry's place, in east carroll parish, louisiana, and was the sixteenth and last child of my parents. my early childhood was uneventful, save during the year , when, by reason of the breaking of the mississippi river levee near my home, i was compelled, together with my parents, to live six months in the plantation cotton-gin, fed by the federal government and by the determination never to live so close to the "big muddy" again; and during , in which year my mother died. up to this latter year my life had been nothing more than that of the average negro boy on a cotton-farm. while i had been too young to feel the burden of farm-life toil, i had not been spared a realization of the narrowness and the dwarfing tendencies of the lives which the negro farmers and their families were living, and, in my heart, i cursed the farm and all its environs as being in verity an inferno on earth. a broader knowledge of the causes which operated to produce the cheerless life against which my child-nature rebelled, and a clearer insight into the possibilities of rural life, have altered this early impression; and to-day i find myself thinking some thoughts relative to the life lived near to nature's heart which are not at all complimentary to the bustle and selfishness of city life. the death of my mother furnished the opportunity to leave the farm and go to a city; and i took advantage of this, going to vicksburg, miss., to live with an older sister. i had always desired to go to school, and had spent four terms of six months each in the country school near my home; but for some reason, which i can not now remember, i attended the city school in vicksburg but one year, after which i was employed as a cake-baker's assistant and bread-wagon driver. a short time before this i was a house-boy in the city. i was, at the time of my employment in the bakery, an omnivorous reader of the newspapers, and, in fact, of all kinds of literature; but my hours of labor at both places were so long and incessant that i found it almost impossible to do any reading during my employment at either place. finally i saw and took advantage of an opportunity to secure employment with the drug firm of w. h. jones & brother; and i count my work in this store, and with these gentlemen as employers, as the turning-point in my life, because there my work demanded some intelligence above the average. i had some chance to study, and in addition, when it was found by these white men that i loved to read, all magazines, newspapers, and drug journals, not needed by the firm and the physicians whose offices were with them, were given to me. i never make any mention of my life in vicksburg without mentioning, in particular, mr. w. h. jones; for not only was he a kind and considerate employer, but i learned from his actions that a white man could be kind and interested in a negro--a fact which no amount of reasoning could have driven into my stubborn understanding previous to that time. there came a time when i learned that at the tuskegee institute, in alabama, any poor negro boy who was willing to work could pay for all his education in labor. to hear was to act. i wrote to mr. washington, asking if my information was correct. the affirmative answer came at once. it was the middle of august, and school began in september, but i determined to be present at the opening of the school year. i was then a boy wearing short trousers, but i immediately set about preparing to deliver a "lecture" to help raise funds for my trip. with a knowledge of the subject, and an assurance which i have never since assumed, i spoke to a large audience in vicksburg on the question, will america absorb the negro? i settled the question then and there to my own satisfaction, even if i did not convince the nation that my affirmative conclusion was rational. the "lecture" netted me my fare to tuskegee, with a few dollars over, and brought me from rev. o. p. ross, pastor of the african methodist episcopal church in vicksburg, the offer of a scholarship at wilberforce college at the expense of his church. i respectfully declined the offer, feeling that i did not want to bind myself to any particular denomination by accepting so great a gift; but i have always felt very kindly toward that church ever since. my first glimpse of mr. washington was had in the depot in montgomery, ala., where a friend and i, on our way to tuskegee, had changed cars for the tuskegee train. two gentlemen came into the waiting-room where we were seated, one a man of splendid appearance and address, the other a most ordinary appearing individual, we thought. the latter, addressing us, inquired our destination. upon being told that we were going to tuskegee, he remarked that he had heard that tuskegee was a very hard place--a place where students were given too much work to do, and where the food was very simple and coarse. he was afraid we would not stay there three months. we assured him that we were not afraid of hard work, and meant to finish the course of study at tuskegee at all hazards. he then left us. very soon after, the gentleman who had so favorably impressed us, and whom we afterward found to be the capable treasurer of the tuskegee institute, mr. warren logan, came back and told us that our interlocutor was none other than the president of the school to which we were going. arriving at tuskegee, i found what it meant to be in a school without a penny, without assurance of help from the outside, and wholly dependent upon one's own resources and labor; and i found further that in the severe, trying process through which mr. john h. washington, superintendent of industries, brother of mr. booker t. washington, and familiarly though very respectfully known to the students as "old man john," put all students who offered to work for their education, only the fittest, and the fittest of the fit at that, survived. i was assigned work with the resident physician, a very efficient woman doctor from philadelphia; and i have a recollection, by no means dim, that when this good woman made her monthly report to the treasurer, she could write, "health department to isaac fisher, dr., $ . --value received." every morning before breakfast it was my duty to go to the rooms of six hundred young men to see if any were ill, have those who were, carried to the hospital, report all such to four departments, take meals to those confined in the hospital, attend to all their wants, keep their building heated and supplied with fuel, and-- but space will not permit the full catalogue of duties. at the end of such a day's work i would attend the night-school during its session of two hours. desiring to learn a trade, i asked permission to enter the printing-office for the next year. this was not granted until it was found that i would not leave the school during the summer, but would remain and work until the beginning of the next school year. accordingly, when my second year began i entered the printing-office as an apprentice. during that year i suffered actual want and privation in the matter of shoes and clothes; but later came under the notice of mrs. booker t. washington, who made arrangements by which i could procure some of the second-hand clothes and shoes sent from the north to the school for just such cases. at the end of this year my health, as a result of my work in the office, was so poor that the resident physician recommended my removal therefrom. to the surprise of mr. j. h. washington, i asked to be transferred to the farm; and i think i proved while working on the school-farm that i was sincere when i said that i would work wherever i was placed. it was during this summer that mr. booker t. washington showed me that i had come favorably under his notice. at one of the weekly prayer-meetings, conducted by the chaplain, mr. penney, and at which mr. washington was present, i made some remarks relative to the agnosticism of the late col. robert g. ingersoll. the following day mr. washington sent for me, inquired my age and class in the school, and then said some very kind things about the talk which i had made in the prayer-meeting, and made me a conditional promise of his friendship, which, despite my oft-proven unworthiness, he has ever since given me in unstinted measure. after that second year my hardships as a "work-student" were practically over. in my third year i entered the day-school, working one day in every week and every other saturday, and going to school the remainder of the time. while the school made compulsory the earning of some money on the part of all students, it set no maximum limit on the amounts to be earned. i elected to earn as much as i could under the circumstances, earning, by reason of the many odd jobs which i did, often as much as $ per month, going to school every day in the meantime. the average amount usually earned is $ and $ per month. at one time i worked eight days per month on the farm, sent notes of the school to negro newspapers, cleaned one laboratory every day, played in both the brass band and the orchestra, blew the bugle for the battalion, and taught two classes in the night-school, for each of which duties i received pay; and even though i broke down under the accumulated strain soon after my graduation, i carried my point and completed the course of study as i had planned. [illustration: the carnegie library building.] in my fourth year i won the trinity church (boston) prize of $ for oratory; and in my senior year won the loughridge book prize for scholarship, and also the valedictory of my class, graduating in . i was immediately sent to the schofield school, a quaker institution for negroes in aiken, s. c., to organize farmers' conferences on the order of those conducted by the tuskegee institute, and to serve as a teacher in the school. after one year's service in that position mr. washington asked me to accept the position of assistant northern financial agent for tuskegee. i accepted, and remained two years in new england, helping to interest friends in my _alma mater_. at my own request i was transferred from the northern work to the south, being assigned this time to the negro conference work in alabama. before beginning this work i was married to a tuskegee girl, miss sallie mccann. within a few months a principal was needed for the swayne public school of montgomery, ala., and this in the middle of the school year. mr. washington recommended me for the work, and i was elected to the position. at the close of the term i went to new york to study the public-school system of that city as far as possible. while there i was reelected principal of the swayne school, and a notice of the election reached me one morning. three hours later i received a letter from the secretary of the university of arkansas (white) informing me that my name had been presented to the board of trustees of that institution, and i had been elected to the presidency of the state branch normal college at pine bluff, ark. i was not a candidate for the position, but seeing in it an opportunity for greater usefulness, i accepted the position in my twenty-fifth year, and have just been reelected to serve a third term as president of the school. the branch normal college was established in as one of the land grant colleges, and has a property valuation of $ , . over my desk hangs a picture of the principal of tuskegee; and in my desk are views of the institution which he has built. but these may be removed. in the book of my memory and in the secret chambers of my heart i have enshrined the two names which, with god and the parents now on the other side of the great divide, have shaped and given direction to my whole life--tuskegee and booker t. washington. ii a school principal's story by william h. holtzclaw i was born in randolph county, ala., near the little town of roanoke. the house in which i first saw the light--or that part of it which streamed through the cracks, for there were no windows--was a little log cabin by feet. i know very little of my ancestry, except that my mother was the daughter of her mother's master, born in the days of slavery, and up to herself the slave of her half-brother. she was born in the state of georgia. my father was born in elmore county, ala. he never knew his father, but remembered his mother and eleven brothers. my mother was married twice before she married my father. she married first at the age of fifteen. i am the fifth of fifteen children, and my father's oldest child. neither my father nor my mother could read or write; mother could get a little out of some pages of the bible by spelling each word as she came to it. my early years were spent on a farm. when only four years old i was put to such work as i could do--such as riding a deaf and blind mule, while my brother plowed him in order to make him go forward, for he cared nothing for assault from the rear. we worked for a white man for one-fourth of the crop. he furnished the stock, land, and seeds, and we did the work, although he was supposed to help. he furnished money to "run" us at fifteen to a hundred per cent, according to the time of the year. he grew wealthier; we grew, if possible, poorer. before i was fifteen years old i instinctively felt the injustice of the scheme. when the crop was divided he got three loads of corn to our one, and somehow he always got all the cotton: never did a single bale come to us. those were hard times for us; for it must be remembered that this was in the days of reconstruction and the ku-klux-klan, and if to this be added the fact that my father, a young and inexperienced man, had started out with a family of six on his hands, some idea of the situation may be had. i can recall having been without food many a day, and the pangs of hunger drove me almost to desperation. but mother and father would come late at night from a day of depressing toil and excruciating inward pain, the result of their inability to relieve our suffering, and pacify us for the night with such things as they had been able to get. when i awoke the next morning they were gone again on a food mission. hunger would sometimes nearly drive us mad. my brother and i were given a meal of pie-crusts from the white folks' table one day, and as we ate them, old buck, the family dog, who resembled an emaciated panther, stole one of the crusts. it was our dinner. we loved old buck, but we had to live first; so my brother lit on him, and a battle royal took place over that crust. brother was losing ground, so i joined in, and, coming up from the rear, we conquered and saved the crust, but not till both of us were well scratched and bitten. i was put to school at the age of six. both mother and father were determined that their children should be educated. school lasted two months in the year--july and august. the schoolhouse was three miles from our house, but we walked every day, my oldest sister carrying me astride her neck when i gave out. sometimes we had an ear of roasted green corn in our basket for dinner, or a roasted sweet potato, but more often simply persimmons, or fruit and nuts picked from our landlord's orchard and from the forest. when cotton began to open, in the latter part of august, the landlord wanted us to stop school and pick cotton, and i can distinctly remember how my mother used to outgeneral him by slipping me off to school through the woods, following me through the swamps and dark places, with her hand on my back, shoving me on till i was well on the way, and then returning to try to do as much in the field that day as she and i together would be expected to do. when the landlord came to the quarters early to look for me, my mother would hide me behind the cook-pot and other vessels. when i was a little older i had to play my part on the farm. mother now worked another scheme. i took turns with my brother at school and at the plow. what he learned at school on his school-day was taught to me at night, and vice versa. in this way we got a month of schooling each during the year, and got the habit of home study. our family was increasing rapidly, and to keep the children even roughly clothed and fed was about all that could be done under the circumstances. when the school exhibition took place and every girl was expected to have a white dress and every boy a pair of white pantaloons, my mother was often put to her trumps to get these things. father would not trouble himself about them, as he said they were useless. but the teacher said they were necessary, and his word was law and gospel with most parents in our community. an exhibition was near at hand and three of us had no white pantaloons. mother manipulated every scheme, but no cloth yet to make them! finally the day arrived, but not till mother solved the problem by getting up before dawn that morning and making three pairs of white pantaloons for us out of her sunday petticoat. mother was of a determined disposition, and seldom failed to solve a domestic problem. we looked about as well as other people's children in that exhibition--at least we thought we did, and that was sufficient. but it must be remembered that there is just so much cloth, and no more, in a petticoat. so our suits were necessarily made tight. i had to be careful how i got around on the stage. i usually had different teachers every year, as one teacher seldom cared to stay at a place for more than a session. i well remember the disadvantages of this custom. one teacher would have me in a third reader and fractions, another in fifth reader and addition. when i reached the point where the teacher ordered me to get a united states history, the book-store did not have one, but sold me a biography of martin luther instead, which i studied for some time, thinking that i was learning something about the united states. i did not know what the united states was or was like, although i had studied geography and knew something about south america and africa; and my teacher did not tell me. my teacher at this time was a good man, but that was all. many of my teachers knew very little, but i thought they knew everything, and that was sufficient, for their teaching was wholesome. i remember one or two, however, whose work, under the circumstances, would be hard to match even now. as soon as i was old enough i was hired out for wages, to help support the family. my school opportunities were now almost gone, and for this reason, together with a desire for more excitement, i began to grow restless on the farm. i grew morose. i pulled myself loose from all public functions, ceased to attend any public meetings, save regular monthly church meetings, and betook me to the woods, where i read everything i could get. it was during this time that accidentally, i may say providentially, i got hold of a book containing the life of ignacius sancho; and i have never read anything that has given me more inspiration. i wish every negro boy in the land might read it. i read and worked, and helped to support the family. i had vowed that as soon as i was twenty-one i would leave for some school and there stay until i was educated. i was already a little in advance of the young people in my community, so i spent my long winter evenings teaching a little night-school to which the young people of the neighborhood came. all my life up to this time my father had been working as a tenant. he now determined to strike out for himself--buy stock and rent land. the mule he bought soon became hopelessly lame in the back. it was a peculiar sort of illness. once upon his feet, he could work all day without difficulty, but when he lay down at night he had to be helped up the following morning. during that entire season the first thing i heard each morning was the voice of my father, "children, children, get up! let's go and help up the old mule." a neighbor also was called in each morning to help. toward the end of the season the school opened. we were so anxious to enter, that we determined to help the old mule. my brother and i hitched ourselves to the plow, and sister did the plowing. early each morning we plowed in this way, and soon finished the crop and entered the little school. my father and some others had built a little school out of pine poles which they had cut, and hauled to the spot on their shoulders. the teacher, a married man, easily won all his pupils, but i could never forgive him for winning and finally eloping with his pretty assistant teacher. christmas eve, , i went to bed a boy. just after breakfast the next morning i became a man--my own man. "sandy claw" did not come that night, although i had hung up my stocking, and i was feeling bad about it. after breakfast my father called me out into the yard, where we seated ourselves on the protruding roots of a large oak-tree, and there he set me free. "son," said he, "you are nearing manhood, and you have no education; besides, if you remain with me i will not be able to help you when you are twenty-one. we've decided to make you free, if you'll make us one promise--that you will educate yourself." by that time my mother had joined the party. i cried, i know not why, and my mother cried; even my father could not conceal his emotion. i accepted the proposal immediately, and although we usually took christmas till new year's day, my christmas that year was then at an end. manhood had dawned upon me that morning. i tried to be calm, but inwardly i was like a fish out of water. i struck out to find work, that i might make money to go to school. one mile across the forest brought me to a man who hired me, and promised me $ . a month for nine months. at the end of six months i came across the tuskegee student, published at the tuskegee normal and industrial institute. i read every line in it. on the first page was a note: "there is an opportunity for a limited number of able-bodied young men to enter the tuskegee normal and industrial institute and work their way through, provided application is made at once. booker t. washington, principal." work their way through! i had never heard of such a thing before. neither had i heard of tuskegee. i sent in my application. i did not know how to address a letter, and so only put "booker t. washington" on the envelope. somehow he received it and gave me permission to come. there ensued a general scramble to get ready to go by the opening of school. i broke off relations with my employer by compromising for a suit of clothes and $ in money. my chum, a man of about forty years of age, seeing the struggle i was making to get off, offered to help me, or rather to show me how to get the money easily by stealing a few chickens and selling them. it was a tempting bait, but against all the previous teachings of my mother. he argued, and my mother, who was not there, also argued within me. i could not consent. my friend pitied me and offered to do the job himself. to get a supply of clothes to take to tuskegee was the question. up to that time i had never worn an undershirt, or a pair of drawers, or a stiff-bosom shirt, or a stiff collar. all these i had not only to get, but had to learn to wear them. my shirts and collars were bought second-hand from a white neighbor and were all too large by three numbers. the last day of september, , i left for tuskegee. when i reached there, although i was a young man, i could not tell what county i lived in, in answer to mr. washington's question. i was admitted, after some hesitancy on the part of principal washington, and sent to the farm to work for one year in the daytime and to attend school at night. i was dazed at the splendor of tuskegee. there was armstrong hall, the most imposing brick structure i had ever seen. then came alabama hall, where the girls lived. how wonderful! i could hardly believe that i was not dreaming, and i was almost afraid i should awake. when i went to bed that night i got between two sheets--something i had not been accustomed to do. about twelve o'clock an officer came in, threw the cover off me, and asked some questions about nightshirts, comb and brush, and tooth-brush, with all of which i was but meagerly acquainted. he made me get up, pull off my socks, necktie, collar, and shirt, and told me i would rest better without them. i didn't believe him, but i obeyed. the next morning i saw more activity among negroes than i had ever seen before in my life. not only was everybody at work, but every soul seemed to be in earnest. i heard the ringing of the anvil, the click of machinery, the music of the carpenters' hammers. before my eyes was a pair of big fat mules drawing a piece of new and improved farm machinery, which literally gutted the earth as the mules moved. here was a herd of cattle, there a herd of swine; here thumped the mighty steam-engine that propelled the machine which delivered up its many thousand of brick daily; there was another machine, equally powerful, turning out thousands of feet of pine lumber every day. then there were the class-rooms, with their dignified teachers and worthy-looking young men and women. amid it all moved that wonderful figure, booker t. washington. i began at once a new existence. i made a vow that i would educate myself there, or i would die and be buried in the school cemetery. when mr. washington stood at the altar in the first service which i attended and uttered a fervent prayer asking for guidance, and for spiritual and financial strength to carry on that great work, i felt that the lord would surely answer his prayer. since then i have traveled practically all over this country, and in one foreign country, without once seeing anything that made so deep an impression on me. [illustration: morning at the barns on the school farm. teams of horses and cattle ready to start for the day's work.] simultaneously with this opportunity for self-education came many real hardships--to say nothing of imaginary hardships--which nearly resulted disastrously to my health. i was poorly clad for the extraordinary winter then setting in. i had only one undershirt and one pair of drawers. i could not, of course, put these articles in the laundry, and therefore had to pull them off on saturday nights, wash them, and get them dry enough to wear by breakfast on sunday morning. it followed that many sunday mornings found me sitting at the table wearing damp underwear. i could do no better, without leaving school, and this i was determined not to do. i was earnest in my work, and was promoted from a common laborer to be a hostler in charge of all boys dealing with horses, and then to the much-sought position of special assistant to the farm manager. i was beginning to see the mistakes of my former life, the time i had lost, and now applied myself diligently. i carried a book with me everywhere i went, and not a second of time would i lose. while driving my mules with a load of wood, i would read until i reached the place of unloading. mr. washington took note of this, and upon one occasion, while admonishing the students to make good use of their time, said: "there is a young man on the grounds who will be heard from some day because of his intense application to study and diligence in his work." i listened. i knew he was speaking of me, and the fact that i was to be "heard from" later made me double my resolutions. in september, , i had to my credit in the treasury of the institution $ , and i was now ready to enter the day-school, to measure arms with the more fortunate students. but, alas! sickness overtook me, and when i emerged from the hospital, after about two months' sickness, my doctor's bill was exactly $ . my accumulated credit went to pay it. this was the penalty for making the transit from a lower to a higher civilization. when i went without undergarments at home, my health was saved because of uniformity of habit. now it was injured because i could wear them this week, but might not be able to do so the next--irregularity of habit. then, too, tuskegee gave me such living-rooms as i had never lived in, or hoped to. i had lived in log houses, which are self-ventilating. now i had either overventilated or failed to ventilate my room. it is a difficult matter to make the transit from a lower to a higher civilization. there are many obstacles, and many have fallen by the way. i went home to recuperate, but returned to tuskegee in a few weeks, and as i had no money i was again permitted to enter the night-school and work during the day. this time i took up the printers' trade. here i broke over the conventional rule of acting "devil" six months, and began setting type after one month in the office. in six months i was one of the school's regular compositors; and in one term i had sufficient credit with the treasurer to enter the day-school. but i was not yet to enter. a letter came from my father, saying, "if you wish to see me again alive, i think it would be well to come at once." i went. my father died a few days after i got home, june , . all hope of future schooling seemed now at an end. my only concern was to do the best i could with the exceedingly heavy load now left on my hands. i pulled off my school-clothes, went to the field, and finished the crop father had left. there was a heavy debt, and i began to teach school to pay this debt. of course i knew very little, but i taught what i knew--and, i suppose, some things i didn't know. i think even now that i did the people some good. i had not learned much at tuskegee in books, but i had learned much from mr. washington's sunday evening talks in the chapel. i had listened carefully to him and had treasured up in my heart what he had said from time to time. now i was teaching it to others. i felt i was to this little community what mr. washington was to tuskegee. so i made the people whitewash their fences and fix up their houses and premises generally. they were very poor, and when the school closed they could not pay me. i told them i would take corn, peas, potatoes, sirup, pork, shucks, cotton-seed--in fact, anything with which they wished to pay me. wagons were secured and loaded, and for several days all sorts of provisions were hauled to my mother's house and stored away for winter. i went to the house of one good widow, who said: "'fesser, i ain't got nothin' to pay you wid but dis 'ere house-cat, and he's a good'n. i owes you twenty-five cents, and i wants to pay it. you done my little gal good--more'n any teacher ever did. she ain't stop' washin' her face yit when she gits up in de mornin'." "very well," i said, "i'll take the cat with thanks and call the debt square." another said: "'fesser, i heard you was coming, and i hid all my meat in de smoke-house, and says: 'i'll tell him i ain't got none;' but when i seed you coming i tole de chillen to go open de smoke-house. anybody who do my chillens as much good as you, can get every bit de meat i got." from that woman i got fifty pounds of meat. another good woman wanted me to take her only pair of scissors, and when i refused to do so, she put them into my coat-pocket, saying the man who taught her child so much must be paid. for three years i taught school with one personal object in view--the support of my mother and her family. mother was not satisfied with this; she wanted me educated. finally she married again, for no higher reason than to permit me, and the other children growing up, to go to school. my hope for an education was again renewed, and i went back to tuskegee. nearly everybody had forgotten that i had ever been there. notwithstanding i had been out nearly three terms, i had kept pace with my class, making one class each year, the same as if i had been in school. upon a very critical examination, in which i averaged ninety-three for all subjects, i entered the b middle class in the day-school. financially i was very little better off than when i left, but i had learned how to manipulate things in such a way as to make it possible to remain in school. i knew a trade at which i could easily make a dollar a day in credit, and i could teach during the vacation. things went smoothly for one year. then my brother came, and i had to support him in part. just about the time i was getting myself adjusted to this, my sister came. i knew i should have to support her almost wholly, so i felt like giving up under such a triple burden; but i held on. i had to deny myself many of the pleasures of school life in order to make two ends meet. i had to wear two pairs of pantaloons and one pair of drawers; and i remember one sunday, while the school was enjoying a good sermon by a great bishop, i was in the shop melting some glue, with which i glued patches on my only pair of pantaloons, which had reached a condition where thread would no longer hold the patches on. i will not tell what happened when the patches had been on for a few days. but amid all these conflicting affairs of my school-days ran an immense amount of pleasure, more than i had ever known before. i was gradually coming to see things as they are in the affairs of men. i thought then, and i still think, that no sacrifice was too great when there was such a golden opportunity. to sit and listen to one sunday evening talk by principal washington was worth all the trouble one had to undergo for a year. two years before i graduated i began to inquire what i was made for--what calling should i follow? it was hard to decide. mr. washington's teaching had impressed me that i should do something to help those less fortunate than myself, and that in the very darkest place i could find. my father had called me to his death-bed and said to me: "son, i want you to become a teacher of your people. i have done what i could in that direction. the people need your services." i recalled how in his last moments i had promised him i would carry out his wishes. there was nothing else left for me to do but to go into those dark places. but there was the rub; and every sunday evening mr. washington thundered that same theme: "go into the darkest places, the places where you are most needed, and there give your life with little thought of self." i knew about those dark places. i had been born in one of them. i had been spending my vacations teaching in them. once, while teaching in the state of georgia, i boarded with a family where there were fifteen besides myself, all sleeping, eating, and cooking in the same room. there were three young women in the family. when bedtime came i had to go out of doors and amuse myself with the stars till all the women were in bed; then they would extinguish the hearth-light by putting some ashes on it and let me come in and go to bed. i had to keep my head under the cover the next morning while they got up and dressed. i used to sleep with my nose near a crack in the wall in order to get fresh air. one little girl in the family, while saying her prayers one night, begged the lord to let the angels come down and stay with them that night. her little brother promptly interrupted her by saying that she ought to have sense enough to know that there was no room in that bed for angels, as there were already five persons in it. i was used to the country and its worst conditions. i prayed over the matter till finally i gave myself, heart and mind, to whatever place should call me. during my last year at tuskegee i was made a substitute salaried teacher in the night-school. my financial burdens were now lifted and my school life became one great pleasure. toward the end of my senior year i decided to try for the trinity prize of $ for the best original oration. i remembered what mr. washington had so often said: that a man usually gets out of a thing what he puts into it. i determined to put $ worth of effort into this contest. i was awarded the prize. a place was offered to me at tuskegee as academic teacher, but i declined it. i had settled in my mind that i would go to the state of mississippi, which i had found by two years of investigation was the place where my services were most needed. i could not go to mississippi at once. i had not money to pay my way, so i accepted a position with my friend, william j. edwards, at his school in snow hill, ala., where i worked for four years, never losing sight of my mississippi object. while at snow hill i married miss mary ella patterson, a tuskegee graduate of the class of ' . we put our earnings together and built us a comfortable little home. one child, william sidney, was born to us, but lived only six months. it took me just two years to convince my wife that there was any wisdom or judgment in leaving our little home and going to mississippi, where neither of us was known. but finally she gave herself, soul and body, to my way of thinking. the way was now clear for me to make the start. just before i left for mississippi, one of my old teachers from tuskegee visited me. he inquired about my going to mississippi, and when i explained the scheme to him, he said jestingly, "you know there is no god in mississippi." i simply replied that then i would take "the one that alabama had" with me. i could not take my wife, for she was under the care of a physician at that time. i decided to leave nearly all my ready cash with her. i did not take quite enough for my railroad fare, for i had expected to sell my wife's bicycle when i reached selma, the nearest town, and thus secure enough money to finish my trip. but when i got to selma the wheel would not sell, so i boarded the train without money enough to reach utica, the place in mississippi to which i was bound. i had not got far into the state of mississippi when my purse was empty. i stopped off at a little town, late at night, where there were no boarding-houses, and no one would admit me to a private house to sleep. i wandered about until i came upon an old guano-house, and crawled into this and slept until the break of day. then i crawled out, pulled myself together, jumped astride my bicycle, and made my way toward utica, through a wild and unfrequented part of mississippi. but before i could reach utica my wheel broke down, whereupon i put it upon my shoulder, rolled up my trousers, and continued the journey to utica. i soon met a young man who relieved me of my burden by trading me his brass watch for the wheel and giving me $ to boot. i had previously got myself elected principal of the little county school, which, if i could pass the state examination, would pay me a little salary, which would be a great help to me while i worked up the industrial and normal school which i had come to build. much depended on my ability to pass the examination. tuskegee's reputation was at stake--my own reputation was at stake; for, if i failed, the people would certainly lose confidence in me, and make it impossible for me to accomplish my purpose. i was out of money, and this was the only way i could see to get any for a long time. if i failed, my wife--who was still in alabama, and who believed in my ability to do anything--would perhaps lose respect for me, and, most of all, the failure to pass the examination might upset all my plans and blast all my hopes. i confess i went to that examination with a sort of anxious determination. i did not, however, find it half so difficult as i had expected. i soon succeeded in obtaining the necessary license to teach in the public schools of the state. the little schoolhouse where the school had been heretofore was so much out of repair that we could not risk having pupils under its roof. i had hoped to open in the church, but the good deacons would not permit this. so the few pupils who came the first day were gathered together under an oak-tree, and there were taught. after some time a temporary cabin was fixed up, and in this we taught the entire winter. the cabin was practically no protection against the rain, and less against the winter winds. the wind literally came through from all directions--from the sides, ends, above, and beneath. we soon had the floor stopped up with clay. this brought about another disadvantage: when it began to rain through the roof, the water would collect on the floor until it was two or three inches deep. two young women were helping me to teach. they often amused me by trying to maintain their dignity and keep out of the water at the same time. they would stand upon stools and fire questions at their pupils, who were standing in the water below while answering them. on such days as this i usually wore my overcoat and rubber shoes. i would then stand in the water and teach with as much indifference as possible. we bored holes in the floor to let the water out, but it usually came through the roof faster than it could escape. there was much suffering at this time on the part of both teachers and students, but it was all a joy and pleasure to me, for i felt that i had found my life-work. i was a stranger to the people, and they had very little confidence in me. some of them questioned my motives in every direction. at the first meeting of the patrons for the purpose of raising money, seventy-five cents were collected and were turned over to me to hold. in a couple of days some one demanded that the collection be taken out of my hands. i quietly turned it over to them. then they got up a scramble as to which one should hold it. they settled the quarrel by selecting a white man in the town of utica, in whom all of them had confidence. i then went out canvassing and got $ , which i promptly turned over. immediately they wanted to turn it back to me to hold, together with what the white man had. they never again questioned my sincerity. my wife, who was still in alabama, kept writing me to let her join me. explanations would do no good. she laid aside all the comforts of home life and came to live in a hovel. we rented a little room, bought a skillet and a frying-pan, a bed and two chairs, and set up housekeeping. i did the cooking, for my wife was a city girl and did not know how to cook on the open fireplace. we never contrasted our condition in mississippi with that in alabama; we simply made the best of what we had. at first there was difficulty in securing land for a location, and many of the patrons began to feel that nothing would be accomplished. to offset this idea i purchased lumber for a building, had it put in the churchyard, and cut up ready for framing. the enthusiasm had to be kept up. land was soon bought and the building started. everybody felt now that something was going to be done. at the end of the first year's work i was able to make to the trustees a creditable report, from which the following is taken: as soon as we secured a cabin to teach in, the young people came in great numbers. we soon had an attendance of . one teacher after another was employed to assist, until seven teachers were daily at work. after three months in our temporary quarters conditions were very trying. there was no money to pay teachers or to meet the grocery bills for teachers' board. the winter was well on, and the structure in which we were located was little protection against it. the rain easily came through the roof, and water was often two inches deep on certain parts of the floor. several teachers and students were suffering with pneumonia or kindred disorders, as a result of all this exposure. i confess that during this dark period only a carefully planned system and much determination prevented despair. during all this time i was trying to secure the interest of the people. i went from door to door, explaining our efforts; then i made a tour of the churches; after riding or walking five or ten miles at night i would return, and then teach the next day. after a protracted struggle of this kind, and after visiting almost everybody for many miles, i found that i had secured about $ . this greatly relieved us. forty acres of land were purchased, and a part of the lumber for a good, comfortable building was put upon the grounds. some of our trustees in new york city and boston now came to our assistance, and with this, and contributions from a few other friends, we were able to get through the year. although it was a great struggle, i found in it some pleasure. to know that you were doing the work that the world needs, and must have done, is a pleasure even under trying difficulties. starting last october without a cent, in the open air, we have succeeded in establishing a regularly organized institution incorporated under the laws of the state of mississippi, with students and seven teachers, and with property valued at $ , . forty acres of good farm-land about a mile from town have been secured. a model crop is now growing on this farm. we have erected a building--a two-story frame--at a cost of something over $ , . i hope you will not get, from what i have said, an idea that i am measuring the success of my efforts by material advancement. i am not. there are forces which our labors have set to work here, the results of which can not be measured in facts and figures. one year ago religious services were held once a month, at which time the day was spent in singing, praying, and shouting. the way some of the people lived for the next twenty-nine days would shock a sensitive individual to read about it. young people would gamble with the dice, etc., in a most despicable way, within a short distance of the church, during services; others would discharge revolvers at the church door during services; ignorance, superstition, vice, and immorality were everywhere present, notwithstanding the handful of determined christian men and women who were trying to overcome these evil tendencies. i do not maintain that these evils have been crushed out. they have not. but what i do maintain is that the general current has been checked. the revolution is on; and if we continue the work here, as we surely will, these evil tendencies will soon be crushed out. during this year the people themselves furnished $ , toward the support of the school. they have never before spent a tenth as much for education. the second year eleven teachers were employed and students were admitted. the cost of operations was $ , , all of which was raised during the year. we are now entering into our third term. fifteen teachers have been employed, and the expenses of operation will be about $ , , all of which i must raise by direct effort. our property, all deeded to a board of trustees, is valued at $ , . i can not feel that i have accomplished much here in mississippi, because i see all around me so much to be done--so much that i can not touch because of lack of means. but, being in the work to stay, i may, in the end, contribute my share to the betterment of man. if i have suffered much to build up this work, i can not feel that it is a sacrifice. it is a colossal opportunity. the greater the sacrifice, the more extensive the opportunity. whatever may have been accomplished already is certainly due more to my wife's superior judgment than to my own activity. whatever i have been able to do myself here in mississippi for my people has been due, first, to the teachings of my mother, and, second, to the all-important life-example and matchless teachings of booker t. washington. iii a lawyer's story by george w. lovejoy i can give no accurate date as to my birth, as my mother was a slave and thus it was not recorded, but i think i was born in the month of february, . i was born in coosa, one of the middle counties of alabama. i am the third child and the second son of eleven children, seven of whom are still living. my father i do not remember, as he died when i was very young, but i most vividly remember my stepfather, the only father i ever knew. childhood to me was not that long season of "painless play" of which whittier so beautifully sings, but i do remember that i was early impressed that my feet must have been made for the express purpose of treading "the mills of toil." when seven years of age my stepfather put a hoe in my little hands and bade me go and help my mother weed the cotton-patch, and from that day to the present time i have been constant in my application to some form of labor. when my mind reverts to that early period of my life i become my own photographer and get various pictures of myself, either as picking, hoeing, or planting cotton, of pulling fodder or splitting rails, for these were the things i did from childhood to manhood. my stepfather had been the foreman, or "driver," for his master when he was a slave, and i am persuaded to believe that he must have been an excellent one, for i can not remember in all my life when a day's work had been so full, so complete, so well done, that he would not press for a little more the next day. mortgaging of crops was then in vogue, as it is to-day, and my mind revolts when i think of how my young life and the lives of my mother, sisters, and brothers were burdened with the constant grind of trying to eke out a living and, if possible, get even a little ahead. some years, when conditions had been favorable, we were able to clear ourselves of debt and begin anew. but, seemingly, this prosperity was not for us, for these years of plenty were almost invariably followed by one or two less fruitful ones that came and "swallowed up the whole," leaving us as forlorn and as wretchedly poor as we were before. this failure of the crops because of drouths unduly long, wet seasons, the ravages of worms, caterpillars, and other uncontrollable circumstances, not only meant that the whole of that year's labor was to bring no tangible rewards, but that much property accumulated in more prosperous times was to be dissipated as well. i can recall repeated instances when all of my stepfather's live stock was taken for debt under this crushing system. and thus it was that my stepfather, and my mother, and the rest of the farmers for miles around existed! during all these years my brothers, sisters, and myself were growing up in ignorance. until i was ten years old i had never heard of a school for colored children. even after the privilege of attending school two months of the year--july and august--had been accorded me, i am certain that the instruction received was of that kind that hinders more than it helps. year after year the course of study would be repeated. perhaps this repetition was necessary for more than one reason: first, ten months' vacation does not tend to firmly impress upon one's mind the knowledge acquired in two. second, the teachers themselves had such limited knowledge that two months were ample time in which to exhaust their store of knowledge, and, as examinations were so easy, it was not imperative that they do more than "keep school." i remember quite distinctly that when i did go to school we used the proverbial webster's blue-back speller. the majority of the pupils began with the "a, b, c," the alphabet, and went as far as "horseback," while apt pupils might be able to reach "compressibility." and so for years we went from "a" to "compressibility" on "horseback." in those days the three "r's" were not confounded. only one of them was given to us, and that in broken doses, for i reached manhood without being able to write a single word or to work a problem in mathematics. neither my mother nor stepfather could read or write a line; not a book, newspaper, or magazine was ever seen in our home. it was most unusual to see a colored man or woman who could either read or write. when a mere boy i inwardly protested against this manner of bringing-up. i determined to make my life more useful, to make it better than it was. but how long these years were! however, the day came when i was twenty-one, and i began to create a "life" for myself. i immediately went to work doing farm labor, and saved my earnings until i had twenty-five or thirty dollars ahead. i then decided to go to school somewhere and to learn something. i found my first opportunity in montgomery, ala. i went there in november, , and entered the swayne school. everything was new and strange to me. i had never seen so large a schoolhouse before. i was dazed, bewildered. there i was, a great, grown man, in the class with little children, who looked upon me as a curiosity, something to be wondered at. i, too, looked at them with amazement, for it seemed next to impossible for young boys and girls to know as much as they seemed to know. i can not say that i was heartily received by the pupils. i was awkward, and i discovered that the city children did not find me pleasingly companionable. it is probable that at this point i should have grown discouraged and given up had i not met that great and good man, rev. robert c. bedford, who is now, as he has been for many years, secretary of the board of trustees of the tuskegee institute, and who travels among and reports upon the work of tuskegee graduates and former students, but who was at that time pastor of the first congregational church in montgomery. i regularly attended his church and the sunday-school connected therewith, and received such help and encouragement from him as but few men can impart to others. it was he who first told me of tuskegee and advised me to enter there. i felt that this advice, if heeded, would work for my good. i was admitted to tuskegee for the session beginning september, , three years after the school had been opened. when i entered tuskegee i was filled with loathing for all forms of manual labor. i had been a slave to toil all my life and had resolved that, if it were possible for a colored man to make a living by doing something besides farming, splitting rails, or picking and hoeing cotton, i would be one of that number. i was compelled at the school, however, like the others, to work at some industry. i did some work on the farm and was one of the school's "boss" janitors. [illustration: students pruning peach-trees.] though i had no real inclination to learn a trade or to perform any kind of manual toil, i did desire to be useful, and throughout my whole school life at tuskegee i had visions of myself seated in an office pondering over blackstone, kent, and storey, with a "shingle" on the outside announcing my profession to all passers-by. after spending some time in tuskegee and diligently applying myself, i was much gratified to find that i was able to pass the state examination for a second-grade certificate, and to teach, during the vacation period, the very school in which i had so long before learned to spell "horseback" and "compressibility." i spent four years in the tuskegee institute, graduating with the class of . before graduating, i divulged to mr. washington my long-cherished ambition, and was somewhat chagrined to find that he did not think much of my dreams. he apparently sympathized with this larger vision, but seemed to think i ought to have more education. i suspect he was right. however, i was determined to make an effort to realize my ambitions. i insisted that he must help me to find a place to read law. after a while it was decided that i should begin in the office of mr. william m. reid, of portsmouth, va. with this end in view, i taught in the state of alabama from may, , until april, . i then left for portsmouth. though i had worked for eleven months, i had but $ . when i reached portsmouth. my salary had been meager, i had paid every cent i owed the school, and had met the many obligations necessary to living in a decently comfortable manner. i found mr. reid to be an intelligent, studious, hard-working young man, with a fairly good practise, and in that hour of uncertainty and embarrassment he proved himself to be "the friend in need." with his aid i was not long in finding work by which i earned enough to pay my board and buy books to help me in my study of law at night. i worked during the daytime at the united states navy-yard in portsmouth, receiving $ . per day. i had never before earned so much money. i was able not only to meet my regular bills but to save something, and soon began to collect a law library. i worked at the navy-yard for three years. it was my privilege to work upon the second-class battleship texas, and upon the steel-protected cruiser raleigh, both of which rendered admirable service in the spanish-american war. in the spring of i felt that i had sufficient knowledge of law to begin practising. i left virginia and returned to alabama. the tug of war had now begun. i found it exceedingly difficult to get examined. after trying for five months, i succeeded in getting a lawyer, a mr. thompson, of macon county, ala., to recommend me to the chancery court of that county for examination. i was examined in open court before all the practising attorneys of that bar, and was given license to practise law in the state of alabama. i was elated, overjoyed--my dream was nearing its realization! i selected mobile, ala., a city of about fifty thousand inhabitants, as my field of labor. i opened my office on september , , and have practised law there from that time to the present date. though i have met many obstacles and have had many difficulties to surmount, i have never had to close my office, or seek other employment to make a living. i have done well. i have experienced no embarrassment because of prejudice. the judges and juries have discussed cases with me in the same manner that they would with any other lawyer at the bar. i have even had a few white clients. to get the confidence of my own people is the hardest problem i have had to solve, for i find that men are still sometimes without honor in their own country. i am daily confronted with many petty difficulties. i sometimes find that even a religious difference will come between me and a probable client. some think i should be a baptist, others would have me a methodist, and others still suggest that i should embrace the catholic faith. i should also belong to every secret society in the city, and attend every public gathering no matter what the hour, whether it be called at high noon or at dawn of day. despite these things to be expected of a people but forty years free, and used to white judges, and juries, and lawyers, and unused to dealing with one of their own, i feel that i am still winning my way. it is my desire to help my fellow men, and in return receive an appreciable share of their help. after practising my profession for nearly two years, i was married to miss sarah e. ogden, who was at that time a student at the tuskegee institute. we have been happily married for ten years and have been blessed with six children, only three of whom, i am sorry to state, are living. i feel that i can not close this short sketch without paying a closing tribute to my _alma mater_--tuskegee. those lessons of thrift, industry, and integrity dwelt upon by principal washington and his coworkers, i shall never forget. my heart thrills and its pulses beat whenever i think of what it has meant to me to come in contact with the quickening influences of that school. i lift up my voice and call her blessed, my tuskegee! iv a school treasurer's story by martin a. menafee i was born on a plantation in lee county, ala., and, as my parents were very poor, i was placed in the field and did not see the inside of a schoolroom until i was twelve years old. i then had a chance to attend a three months' school for six months, or for two years, as we usually called it. before this i had had one of my shoulders dislocated through an accident and have been able to use but one arm since. at this period i made up my mind to secure an education, and a gentleman who was teaching school at my home took me to an alabama college, thinking that he could perhaps get me in school there. i told the president of the college that i wanted an education, and offered him my services in return for such opportunities as he would open to me, but seeing my condition, he soon concluded that i could render but little in the way of services. i pleaded with him for a trial, but he refused me admittance, albeit in a very nice and polite manner. i returned home, then at oakbowery, ala. very soon after my return i heard of the tuskegee institute, and i think it was in july of that year when i made up my mind that i would start for this school, which was about forty miles from where i lived. after walking to auburn, ala., twelve miles, i waited for the train and, as she glided up, i walked in and took my seat. before i left home i knew some walking would be necessary, and preferred doing it at the beginning of the journey. i was admitted on my arrival, after some parleying, and was promptly assigned to work in the brick-yard. after i had been there for two days i found that the sun had no pity on, or patience with, me; it seemed to blister me through and through. i finally concluded that the sun, together with the brick-yard, was blasting the hopes i had entertained and the determination i had fostered, of securing an education. i tried to get my work changed, but the director of industries did not see it as i did, and would not do it. the next thing that i settled upon for relief was to get sick, but a day's trial of that showed that would not work. i decided that i would return home, where i was sure i would at least find no brick-yard to harass or disturb. my stay at the school was just about seven or eight days. i would like to add just here, however, that i am very glad that i was put on the brick-yard, as it certainly left in me the spirit of work after i got over that first affliction of heat. very soon after i had returned home i received a letter from one of the teachers of talladega college, a miss s. j. elder, who met me when i was there seeking entrance, asking me to go to jenifer, ala., and attend a school there conducted by two white ladies; she said she would "foot" all of my bills. this greatly relieved me, and i considered it a great thing. very soon thereafter i had my clothes ready, and was at jenifer. i was there for one year, but tuskegee was constantly on my mind; in fact, i had made up my mind to give it a second trial. on october , , i again went to tuskegee and asked for admission. i was admitted with the understanding that i should stand up in the chapel and make a public acknowledgment of the wrong i had done in leaving the school without permission. this seemed like a great humiliation, as i could hardly talk to one person, to say nothing of the thousand students and teachers then there, as i stammered so much. mr. washington seemed to understand the situation and was kind enough to help me out by asking questions. i was given work on the farm, and started out again with renewed vigor and determination to complete a course of study. the farm manager, mr. c. w. greene, was very kind to me and gave me work that i could do. after i had been on the farm about two weeks he placed me at the gates to keep out the cows and hogs that might be tempted to walk in on the school-lawns. this work i enjoyed, and very soon established an "office" under a tree near the gate. i held this position and kept this "office" for two years. i was then taken from there and placed in mr. greene's office to help him. it was at tuskegee that i first saw a typewriter and shorthand writing. i made up my mind that i would be a stenographer and typewriter, and thought that if i could learn this, that would be as high up as i cared to go in life. i borrowed a book on shorthand, not being able to purchase one, and began the study without a teacher. very soon i realized that i had learned a little, and my ambition grew. i wanted a typewriter. i got up enough courage to go to the rev. r. c. bedford, who often visited the school, and who was one of my best friends, and, in fact, is largely responsible for my being able to stay at tuskegee as long as i did, and told him i wanted a typewriter; i repeatedly told him that my success in life largely depended upon my securing it. mr. bedford said he would see what could be done, and, in a very short time, he came from the north and brought the machine. when he informed me that he had brought it, it did seem that i could not stay on the grounds. i felt then that i had all that was necessary to make me a stenographer, and very soon declared myself a member of the stenographic world. i advanced very well in these new studies and was given some work to do in the offices. the regular school stenographers helped me all they could. the saddest experience i ever had in connection with the tuskegee institute was at the end of my second summer. i was very anxious to remain in the employ of the school, as my people were very poor and i did not care to be home on them unless i could become a full field hand, and i felt that the school had much work that i could do. i appealed to the director more than once to let me remain, but he replied each time that the work department was closed; that he could not take any more, and furthermore, that it was best that i return home. mr. bedford encouraged me all he could and told me that i might find something to do; that i should launch out for myself. i went to opelika, and mr. bedford was on the same train. he and i were in opelika together for about a half day. he was on his way to beloit, wis., his home, and i was on my way home to oakbowery. about thirty minutes before it was time for my train to leave, i noticed a man who was very busy superintending the hauling of some lumber. this man asked my name, what i could do, and where i was from. for a moment i hesitated to tell him, but finally did. i found that he was the principal of the colored city school at opelika, professor j. r. savage. mr. savage proved to be a true friend. he gave me work at once in the summer normal school he was conducting. i went to my home that evening, rejoicing that i had found work. when i returned to opelika mr. savage asked me to take charge of the business department of the summer normal and teach shorthand and typewriting. i worked with him in this way for three summers, my vacation periods, with much success. we worked well together and in perfect harmony. at the opening of each school year at tuskegee i would be among the first to get there to begin my studies. i found that, in order to remain at tuskegee, students had to have a real purpose. i had one, and i think so impressed the faculty before leaving there. i did not have all smooth sailing, and, at times, i would all but give up. i was at tuskegee for six years, and i recall those years with much pleasure and satisfaction. during my stay there i made many friends, and i can not refrain from mentioning the rev. r. c. bedford, who has helped me in so many ways; mr. warren logan, the treasurer of the school; mrs. f. b. thornton, the matron, who took me as her son, and my dear friend, the farm manager, mr. c. w. greene. many others were also very kind to me. i completed my course of study in . by this time mr. bedford had secured a position for me at denmark, s. c., as stenographer to the principal, miss elizabeth e. wright, a tuskegee graduate. i did not hold this position very long before it was decided in a meeting of the board of trustees to have me act as the school's treasurer. on being asked to take this place, i answered that i would do my best. i have now been here since the fall of the year of my graduation. i like the work immensely. a word about the school: it is known as the voorhees industrial school, and is located in the midst of an overshadowing negro population. it has just completed the seventh year of its existence. miss wright, the principal, founded it on faith. she is a delightfully spiritual woman, and was at first greatly opposed in her efforts by both the black and white people of this section. she persevered, however, and all the people are now her friends. her work here has been but little short of marvelous. the pride of the grounds is a splendidly arranged central building, which cost $ , . it contains offices, class-rooms, and a chapel that will seat persons. a large building for girls, costing $ , , has also been erected. a tuskegee graduate drew the plans for both of these buildings. a barn which cost $ we have also been able to complete, and are now using. in our faculty, in addition to miss wright, who is of the class of , tuskegee institute, we have six other tuskegee graduates: a farm superintendent, a carpenter, a teacher of drawing, a principal of the primary department, a sewing and cooking teacher, a millinery teacher and industrial helper, and a treasurer and bookkeeper, myself. the day- and boarding-pupils number . voorhees is one of the sixteen larger "offshoots" of tuskegee institute, manned and controlled by tuskegee graduates. it is a chartered state institution, and has on its board of trustees white and colored persons, northern and southern. one of its very best and most helpful supporters and friends is a southern white man who has helped it in ways innumerable, and has backed it when the courage of all of us has all but faltered. by precept and example the school is helping the black masses of rural south carolina to help themselves. the work we do is far different from that done by any other school in the state; we provide the way for our students, as at tuskegee, because of their poverty, to work on the farm and in the shops during the day and attend school at night. without this help most of them would be without any chance to attend school. our students are learning to dignify labor. none have yet graduated, as our school is young and most of those who come to us can not read or write a word. they are wofully ignorant, but so willing to learn, so earnest, and so persevering. during the last school year, -' , we received from all sources $ , . . this will give some idea as to the scope and importance of our work, and of my work in disbursing this large sum as the treasurer of the school. our present property valuation is $ , , and consists of acres of land, large buildings, a large barn, a schoolhouse for primary children, cottages, an industrial building, mules, horses, cows, wagons, buggies, etc., all free from indebtedness of any character. we stay out of debt; that for which we can not pay we do without. we afford instruction in the following industries: farming in its various branches, shoemaking, carpentry, cooking, sewing, housekeeping, laundering, millinery in a small way, printing, and blacksmithing. the training received at tuskegee has been of so much help to me since leaving there. i made up my mind after graduation that i would urge my parents and relatives to cease paying five and six bales of cotton each year for rent, and instead take the same amount of cotton and buy a place of their own. i am glad to say, through my efforts in this regard, they have been placed on a tract of acres of good land, and it is practically paid for, they paying four bales of cotton a year. they are doing well and are making something for themselves. this project seemed a little strange to them for the first two years, but they are now used to it. "he that hath a trade," saith franklin, "hath an estate, and he that hath a calling, hath a place and honor." since being out in the world i have learned not to wait for a higher position or a better salary, and have steadily sought to enlarge the ones i have had. i have tried to fill such positions as i have had as they were never filled before, by doing better work, by being more prompt, by being more thorough, more polite, and, in fact, i have filled them so completely that no one else could slip in by me. i have always laid great stress on work as a means of developing power; i am called by some of my friends a fanatic on this subject. my experience at tuskegee taught me that our racial salvation is to come through hard, earnest, intelligent, sincere work. i owe a world of gratitude to the tuskegee institute for the training i received there and for the great work it is doing for the negro people. i repeat, if i accomplish anything in life that is worth while, it will be due wholly to the tuskegee institute, to its officers and teachers. no true graduate of tuskegee ever forgets the lessons learned there. i am sure i shall not. v the story of a farmer by frank reid i am glad to be able to give some facts regarding what my brother dow and i have been able to do since leaving the tuskegee institute. we did not graduate, i am sorry to say, but the lessons given us have not been forgotten. these lessons started us on the way to our present success. i do not use the word "success" boastfully, but because it really states a fact: we have done much more than we ever hoped to do, and have been the means of contributing in some slight measure toward the uplifting of the immediate community about us. we are located at a place called dawkins, not more than twelve miles from the tuskegee institute, and immediately within its sphere of influence. our mother and father were born within a few miles of where we now live. both of our parents, at the time i write, are living, and are each about sixty-five years of age; they were, for twenty-five years each, slaves. neither can read or write. my brother and i each spent about three years at tuskegee, and, in addition, he attended school for two years at talladega college. i had a very thorough course in carpentry, and my brother worked on the institute farm. we married two sisters, susie and lillie hendon. shortly after my marriage my beloved wife susie died, leaving me with one child. my brother's wife still lives; they have three children. until ten years ago we, with our father, were renters, all of us working together. but the sunday evening talks at tuskegee by principal washington, and his urgent insistence, at all times, that tuskegee graduates and students should try to own land, led us to desire to improve our condition. we were large renters, however; for twenty-three years our father and his relatives had leased and "worked" a tract of , acres of land, having leased it for ten years at a time. we still lease this tract, and, in addition, rent an additional acres in the same way, ten years at a time. we subrent tracts of this total of , acres to thirty tenants, charging one and one-half bales of cotton for each one-horse farm. we pay twenty-three bales for the rent of the , acres. my brother and i run a sixteen-horse farm, doing much of the work ourselves and paying wages to those who work for us. a number of others also work for us on "halves"--that is, we provide the land, furnish the seeds, tools, mules, feed the mules, and equally divide whatever is raised. this is largely done in all the country districts of the south. about ten years ago we bought in our own right our first land, acres. since that time we have acquired by purchase another tract containing acres. the first tract we paid for in two years; the other is also paid for. the total of acres, i am glad to say, is without incumbrance of any kind. the following statements may give some idea as to what we have been able to do since leaving tuskegee: during the year alone, we paid out $ , , covering debts on land, fertilizers, and money borrowed with which to carry our thirty tenants. we own sixteen mules and horses, fourteen head of cattle, thirty hogs, and have absolutely no indebtedness of any character. my brother dow lives in a good three-room house. my father and i live in a good six-room house, with a large, airy hall, and kitchen; it cost us to build, $ , . [illustration: a silo on the farm. students filling it with fodder corn, steam-power being used.] we conduct a large general store, with everything carried in a country store of this kind. the colored odd fellows use the hall above our store for their meetings. the government post-office is located in our store, and here all of the surrounding community come for their mail. our store does a large yearly business averaging about $ , . we have a steam-gin and grist-mill. we gin about bales of cotton a season for ourselves and others living near; of the bales got from the land owned and rented by us, are ours, the other belong to our tenants. we raise large quantities of corn, potatoes, and peas, in addition to our cotton crop. we are now trying to purchase the acres we have been so long renting. the church and the schoolhouse are on four acres of land immediately adjoining ours. the church is roomy, well-seated, ceiled and painted, in striking contrast with most of those in the country districts of the south. the schoolhouse has two rooms, and is but partially ceiled, though it is nicely weather-boarded. the school is regularly conducted for five months each year, and part of the time has two teachers. mr. j. c. calloway, a tuskegee graduate, class of ' , is principal of the school. we are cooperating with mr. calloway in an effort to supplement the school funds and secure an additional two months. we helped pay for the land, and gave a part of the money toward the schoolhouse, and have done all possible to help, keeping in mind principal washington's oft-repeated statement that "it is upon the country public schools that the masses of the race are dependent for an education." my brother and i, with our father, it will be noted, own and rent , acres of land, but we try to help our tenants in every possible way, and, when they desire it, subrent to them such tracts as they desire for ten years, or less. we have established a blacksmith-shop on our land, and do all our own work and most of that of the whole community. rev. robert c. bedford, secretary of the board of trustees, tuskegee institute, some time ago visited us, as he does most of the tuskegee graduates and former students. he is apprised of the correctness of the statements set forth above. he wrote the following much-appreciated compliment to a friend regarding our homes and ourselves: "the homes of the reid brothers are very nicely furnished throughout. everything is well kept and very orderly. the bedspreads are strikingly white, and the rooms--though i called when not expected--were in the very best of order." this further statement may not be amiss: under the guidance of the tuskegee influences, the annual tuskegee negro conferences, the visits of tuskegee teachers, etc., the importance of land-buying was early brought to our attention, but because of the crude and inexperienced laborers about us, we found that we could, with advantage to all, rent large tracts of land, subrent to others, and in this way pay no rent ourselves, as these subrenters did that for us. we could in this way also escape paying taxes, insurance, and other expenses that naturally follow. we could, as many white farmers do, hire wage hands at from $ . to $ a month, with "rations," or arrange to have them work on "halves," as i have already described. but at last we yielded to the constant pounding received at tuskegee whenever we would go over, that we ought to own land for ourselves; and then, too, it occurred to me that we might not always have the same whole-souled man to deal with, and that terms might be made much harder. my brother and father agreed, and we set about to purchase the first acres. as i feared, rental values have increased; formerly we rented the , acres for three bales of cotton; now we give sixteen bales for the same land. my brother, our father, and i have worked together from the beginning. we have had no disputes or differences; we have worked on the basis of a common property interest. we have encouraged the people of our community as much as possible to secure homes, buy lands, live decently, and be somebody. the following are some typical examples of thrift and industry in the community about us: turner moore owns acres of land adjoining ours. he was born near where he lives and was over twenty-five years a slave. he has mules and horses and raised bales of cotton last year. his property is all paid for. his brother, moses moore, also has acres, all paid for, and reuben moore, a nephew, owns acres, all paid for. their farms join. james whitlow, father-in-law of mr. j. c. calloway, the teacher referred to, owns , acres in one body, only about two miles from our place. it is all paid for, and the deeds are all recorded at the macon county courthouse. he was born right where he now lives, and was twelve years old when freed. mr. whitlow rents a gin, but will own one of his own this year. he also carries on a store. he has tenants, who will raise over bales of cotton this year together. he has raised over himself. he has mules, horses, head of cattle, and about hogs. he does not owe a nickel. his taxes are $ per year. he has a very good four-room house, besides a kitchen. mr. whitlow has fourteen children, ten boys and four girls, who go to school on our place. he himself can not read or write, but he helps the school and church. j. c. calloway was born near us. he graduated from tuskegee, and has continued to work near his old home. he married james whitlow's daughter. he has a very good two-room frame house. mr. whitlow gave them acres of land, and he is trying to buy an additional acres. he raised bales of cotton this year and bushels of corn. he has horses and mules and head of cattle, besides hogs, chickens, etc. he is very highly thought of in his school work, and is successful as a farmer. i believe we are doing well. our community is rated high, and i shall never fail to praise tuskegee for starting us in the way we are going. vi the story of a carpenter by gabriel b. miller the plantation on which i was born in is located near pleasant hill, ga. at that time pleasant hill was twenty miles from any railroad, and i did not see a railroad train till i was twelve years of age. i lived on a plantation on which more than two hundred men and women worked for the owner. the children had no especial educational opportunities. few of them were even permitted to attend the makeshift public school located near. for six months only, of the twelve years my father lived on that plantation, did i attend any school, and that a small one taught by a southern white woman who had owned my father. when i was twelve years of age my father moved from the plantation on which he had been working "on shares" and rented land which he and his family cultivated. soon there were thirteen children in his family, of which number i was the second. in december, , i drove a wagon with two bales of cotton to a little georgia town. while waiting for the wagon preceding me to move off the scales on which the cotton was weighed, i heard a colored man, who had heard of tuskegee institute, telling of its advantages, and he quite glowingly recounted the glories of the place as they had been related to him. as he proceeded he informed those gathered about him that at this school a boy could work his way if perchance he could reach the institution. i got nearer to him and heard and treasured every word he said. especially did i remember his statement that he had been informed that some of the boys graduating from there had not paid a single cent in cash for their education, having worked it all out. when i reached home that night i told my father of what i had heard. for three successive years our crops had failed and my father was more than $ in debt. the prospect of interesting him in any project that meant the expenditure of money was discouraging, but an eager desire to secure an education led me to make him a proposition, viz.: that he should permit me during the next year, , to have full and complete charge of the farm, and if i succeeded in settling all of his indebtedness i was to be released to attend school at tuskegee, provided i could secure admittance, whether he cleared any money or not. this proposition my father readily agreed to. he sympathized with my ambitions, but the heavy burden of carrying a large family with short-crop returns dwarfed whatever good intentions he might have. on the first of january, , those of the family who could work joined me in starting early and working late during the whole of the year. we ran a two-horse farm. from that year's work we gathered bales of cotton, bushels of corn, bushels of cow-peas, gallons of sugar-cane sirup, wagon-loads of pumpkins, a great amount of hay and fodder, and picked at night for neighbors about us, white and black, bales of cotton. we had rented two mules and the wagon used that year, but now at the close bought two younger, stronger mules and a new wagon and paid cash for the whole outfit. we settled our indebtedness with everybody, and my father, who had earnestly worked under my supervision along with the others, was very, very happy. of course, we had a very small balance left--not enough to be of any service to me in keeping me in school except i should be allowed to help myself by working. after "laying the crops by" i made home-made baskets during the summer and sold them, realizing about $ . in one year i had accomplished a task my father thought impossible of accomplishment. he religiously kept his word, and was as enthusiastic about my getting off to school as i was. i had now learned more of the tuskegee institute, and was impatient to reach there. others, too, became eager and enthusiastic, and so when i started, january , , it was a red-letter event in our little community. i left home with only the $ i had saved from the sale of my baskets. the next morning after reaching tuskegee i was piloted to the principal's office and my recommendations requested. i was puzzled. i did not know what was wanted. i had not followed the usual routine and written for permission to enter as students are required to do, but had gone ahead, thinking the presentation of myself all that would be necessary. i had no recommendations, but mustered courage enough to ask for a trial before being refused. my request was granted, and i became a student--proud event in my life!--of the famous tuskegee normal and industrial institute. i had always wanted to be a carpenter; as long ago as i can remember this was my ambition, but when carried to the office of the director of industries he refused to assign me to work there, as that division was filled, but assigned me instead to the sawmilling division. i was not angry, of course. i was too glad to be at tuskegee; but i was bitterly disappointed, especially after i had seen the carpenter shop, some of the work of the young men, and the imposing buildings on which they had been and were working. i was promised the first vacancy, and that temporarily eased my sorrow. a vacancy did not occur for one and a half years. in the meantime i had become reconciled, and had worked as earnestly as i could to please the instructor in sawmilling. i tried to learn all there was to learn in that division, and at the end of that period could adjust and run proficiently every machine in the sawmilling division. the school cut then, as it does now, most of the lumber used in the carpentry division, and efficient students were needed and desired. my instructor was so well pleased with my progress that he recommended, over my protest, to the director of industries, my retention in the division. i had kept so busily after the director during those eighteen months to allow me to enter the shop that he could not well refuse to grant my request when a vacancy occurred. i was admitted to the carpenter shop. for five years i was an apprentice, doing work of every kind. i also took mechanical drawing along with carpentry. when i graduated in i received not only a diploma from the academic department, but a certificate from the carpentry division as well. i had improved every opportunity, and had a fair knowledge of architectural as well as of mechanical drawing. this latter instruction i had made a place for along with my other studies. maj. j. b. ramsey, the commandant, had been so well pleased with my general deportment that for years i was commissioned by him to command, as captain, one of the companies of the tuskegee institute battalion of cadets. this had pleased and encouraged me very much indeed. to my surprise, three months before my graduation i was asked to remain in the employ of the tuskegee institute as one of the assistant teachers in the carpentry division. i had contracted, however, to do some work at montgomery, ala., and i could not accept the place offered. i spent about four months working at my trade in montgomery, and was again reminded of the offer made me at tuskegee. i returned to tuskegee, but did not remain long, as the executive council of the institute recommended me, when application was made for a competent man to take charge of the carpentry division of the fort valley high and industrial school, fort valley, ga. the terms offered were satisfactory and i accepted the position. i began work here november , , in a shop feet by feet. no tools and no work-benches were provided, only a lot of inexperienced boys to whom i was expected to teach carpentry. i owned a chest of tools, and these i used until the school could secure some. i proceeded at once to make work benches, and my boys had their first lessons in carpentry in providing these. quite often visitors who come to see us ask if these benches were not made at some factory, they are so well made. we next proceeded to fit out a drawing-room, as i intended that my boys should work--as i had been compelled to do from the very beginning at tuskegee--from drawings. everything i had done there had to be carefully worked out in advance, and, knowing the value of that kind of thing, i did not want these boys to have anything less than the kind of instruction i had had. we made tables and desks for the drawing-room; next we ceiled and finished twelve rooms in the main school building that had long been left unfinished. all of the work pleased the authorities of the school, i have reason to know. near the close of my first term at fort valley it was decided to erect a dormitory building for girls. i was asked to submit plans and specifications. my training as a carpenter at tuskegee had fitted me for just that kind of thing, and i set about designing a building that would meet the requirements of the young women attending fort valley. my plans were finally accepted, and i thought to go on with the erection of the building during the summer, as had been planned; but one or two of the building committee began to object, urging that i was too young, that i had not had enough experience, and that a building of that quality should be erected by a builder of proved reputation. after much delay i was permitted to proceed. i began with ten "green" boys, and they, under my direction as i worked side by side with them, did all of the work except the hanging of the window-sashes, doors, etc. i had outside help in doing this part of the finishing. the building is a real pride to all of us here. it is feet by feet, - / stories high, has sleeping-rooms, a splendidly arranged dining-room, feet by feet, and cost $ , . no one, hereabouts at least, now doubts that i can build anything i say i can. i am glad that so soon after beginning the work here i was able to prove the claims of my tuskegee instructors as to my fitness for the position for which they had recommended me. unfortunately, before i had completed the dormitory for girls, a fire destroyed our main school building with the contents. this fire left us without class-rooms. we took refuge in the carpenter shop, and held classes there until money was secured with which to build a training-school for the lower grades. this latter building i also put up entirely with student labor. it contains three large rooms, each feet by feet. the appointments in every way accord with approved hygienic laws. dr. wallace buttrick, executive secretary of the general education board, spoke complimentarily of the building when he saw it, as one of the few in the state he had seen that met all the requirements of a class-room. we were able to build it for $ , . even during the construction of the training-school i was drawing the plans for a large brick building to replace the one burned. my plans were submitted to friends of the work in the north, and by the time we had finished the training-school we had money enough to begin the brickwork on the new building. by april, , the brickwork was complete, and as we had no additional money we were compelled to allow the building to stand until june, , at which time we were able to resume. my boys did all of the woodwork, did the hod-carrying, and most of the unskilled labor. the building cost $ , , and is feet inches by feet inches in its dimensions, is - / stories high, and has a deckle roof with dormer windows. the chapel is on the first floor, recitation-rooms on the second floor, and sleeping-rooms for boys on the one-half third-story floor. a basement for storage purposes, feet by feet, is a great convenience. of the many contractors and builders who have visited our school-grounds none have failed to speak in praise of the design, the workmanship, the strength, and the relative relation to each other of the school buildings with regard to future additions. i need not add that this has been very pleasing to me. i was married december , , at atlanta, ga., to miss mary e. hobbs. to me tuskegee has been all in all, and i still remember with gratitude the man who, in my hearing, spoke so glowingly of the school as i weighed my cotton in the little georgia town away back in december, . vii cotton-growing in africa by john w. robinson as all autobiographical sketches begin, so do i begin this one. i was born in bennettsville, s. c., in . neither of my parents could write their names; but my father could read a little, and taught me the alphabet. my paternal grandfather was a slave of some intelligence. he was a competent carpenter, had charge of his master's saw- and grist-mills, and kept the accounts of the two mills. his master, who was a member of the state legislature, was very kind to him. he allowed him a portion of the savings from these industries he was controlling, and even promised him his freedom. the latter he delayed so long that my grandfather ran away. he succeeded in reaching charleston, s. c. he had secured a ticket and was about to take passage for canada, when he was captured and returned to his master's home. his master was attending the general assembly of the state of south carolina, and it became the overseer's duty to punish the returned fugitive. my grandfather never recovered from the effects of the brutal punishment meted out to him for daring to desire freedom in his own right. my father was the oldest boy and the second child in a family of five. he was a farmer and a cobbler. at the age of twenty-seven he was married to my mother. i suppose the history of my mother's life would be monotonous and dull to many ears, but i remember that i never grew tired of hearing her relate its somber happenings. she often told us how her grandmother could relate the thrilling story of her capture on african soil and of being brought to america, of the horrors of the passage, and of much else that i shall always remember. after their marriage my parents began farming in bennettsville, marlborough county, s. c., the place where i was born. i remember most vividly that two-roomed log cabin where my parents' ten children were born-- "low and little, and black and old, with children as many as it could hold." however, my father soon began working for wages, and received $ per month and the proverbial "rations"--three pounds of meat and a peck of meal per week. what a financier he must have been, for from that mean sum he managed to save $ or $ each year, and i still cherish the memory of how fondly i felt those crisp green-backs once a year. he brought them home every christmas and allowed each member of the family to feel them--yes, even caress them. when i was about nine years of age i entered the public school of the community, which was in session about four months in a year, opening late in the fall and going through the winter. my parents were so delighted and gratified at the progress i made that i was occasionally privileged to spend one month in the subscription school conducted near by during the summer. when i was fourteen years of age a great sorrow visited our home. my mother died. i often wonder if any one can realize what it means to lose a mother without having suffered that bereavement. my father did not marry again. about this time the authorities opened a school nearer us than the one i had been attending, but the teachers were usually very incompetent and my progress was seriously hindered. the absorbing desire of my life had been to some day graduate from some institution of learning, but i found myself at eighteen years of age far from the goal of my ambition. i became alarmed. i realized what it would mean to grow to manhood in ignorance; i also knew that there were seven children younger than i to be cared for. i seriously thought the matter over. i finally broached it to my father, and he consented that i should try to make a way for myself. i rented a small farm, trusting that by cultivating it i would be able to clear enough money to begin my education. i began wrong, for i had in advance mortgaged my crop. i began with $ , but when the year closed i had only $ . however, my aspirations were not to be daunted; i was resolved on going to school. with this $ i purchased the necessary books, paid my entrance fee, and entered the village graded school. i was poorly clad, and much of the time was without food, but i felt that i could not even ask my father for assistance because of his responsibility in caring for the younger children. i was constant, however, in my endeavor to find work, and finally a companion and i succeeded in getting an old farmhouse about three miles from the village in which to live. in a measure this suited me, for i loved the country. the house was an old, dilapidated one, and i do not see now how we stood that first severe winter; but though i was in rags and my food was often roasted potatoes or peas with a little salt, i did not miss a single day's schooling that year, and great was my joy and satisfaction when, at the end of the year, i stood at the head of my class. during this time i had done such work in the surrounding neighborhood as could be obtained. my saturdays and afternoons were spent in splitting rails, chopping wood, driving garden palings, and doing any other work that would enable me to exist. although i had stinted myself and had often gone without food, at the end of the year i was $ in debt. but this was not sufficient to make me despair. when vacation came i immediately sought work, and though i was diligent in my application to it when i had obtained it, steady employment was not to be had. my wages were never more than fifty cents a day, but i often received less. for two years i lived in this way. at the expiration of that time i decided that it would benefit me to enter a higher institution of learning. i knew that this would mean that i must have more remunerative employment. by some means my attention was directed to the orange industry of florida, and in the summer of i regretfully left my companions and relatives, went to deland, fla., and secured the desired work. the winter proved to be an unusually cold one, and the orange industry was greatly hindered; therefore i was soon out of employment, and at the season of the year when i most needed it. i was not long idle, however, for the very cause of my loss of work opened another avenue; i was kept busy chopping wood. though i went to florida penniless, at the end of six months i had saved $ . it was at deland that i learned of the magnificent opportunities afforded earnest young men and women at tuskegee institute. i at once made application to become a student. that morning i did not know that such a school existed; that night, while i slept, the southern railway was bearing my letter of application to mr. washington. my anxiety almost reached fever-heat during those few intervening days that i waited for an answer, and my joy was boundless when it came, setting forth the requirements for admittance. i sent a portion of the money i had saved to my father. with the rest i bought some necessary clothing, and left deland far behind for tuskegee. i shall always remember how little and insignificant i felt when i entered the school-grounds and was told that all those buildings and all those acres of ground were a part of the tuskegee institute. i had read of it in the circular of information which was sent me when i applied for admission, but the realization was, to me, almost overpowering. after paying my entrance fee and purchasing my school-books i had $ left. thus i began what has proved to be a "new life." fifteen dollars were, of course, an inadequate sum with which to pay my expenses through the day-school, and so i was permitted to enter the night-school, as so many others as poor as i had done. this means that i was given an opportunity to work at some industry during the day and attend classes at night. i was not only receiving training at an industry, being provided with food, shelter, and fuel, and receiving instruction at night, but i was earning enough over my board to be placed to my credit in the school's treasury to help pay my board when i should enter the day-school. my first term was spent at work on marshall farm, where the greater part of the school's farming was at that time done. when i entered tuskegee i had no thought of preparing myself for returning to farm life. even the word "farm" brought to my mind visions of dull, hard work and drudgery without comforts. i had not been at the tuskegee institute long, however, before i was led to know that "agriculture" is the very highest of all industrial callings. i had never known that agriculture had so many subdivisions, that soils could be analyzed and treated, that rotation of crops enriched the soil, that a certain crop planted season after season on the same soil made it poor, because it was ridding it of some life-giving chemical. to me soils simply "wore out." but through lectures and practical experiments my agricultural horizon began to expand, and a sense of the beauty of the industry grew upon me. it was to me a marvelous thing to go into the dairy and take milk but recently milked, pour it into the sharpless separator, set the machine in motion, and behold a stream of rich, sweet cream flow from one avenue of escape, while a foamy jet of milk passed from another. there, too, i learned cheese-making and butter-making. my school life was filled with difficulties because of financial embarrassments. i was one of the competitors in the first trinity church (boston) prize contest, founded at the school by dr. e. winchester donald, successor of phillips brooks, and rector of trinity until his death, and i remember that i was greatly discomfited because the socks i wore had no feet in them, and my shoes had that afternoon been sewed with thread blackened with soot. however, i was the successful contestant, the first winner of the prize of $ . the next day i provided myself with new shoes and socks. i also received my diploma that same year, , within two days of receiving the prize, and was very happy to receive it and the diploma at the same time. two summers and one winter after graduating i taught school at mamie, ala. when i was not teaching i worked on the farm of the family with which i boarded. for this work i received very little pay, but i had been taught at tuskegee that it was better to work for nothing than to be idle--a booker t. washington precept. the second winter i was first assistant in the ozark city school, ozark, ala., and was offered the principalship for the next term, but i declined in order to further pursue postgraduate studies in agriculture at tuskegee. i remained there for six months. i then went west, to rockford, ill., to do practical work in that section for the purpose of strengthening and improving the theory and practise already learned. it was harvesting season and i soon secured work. i put all my energy into the work of the rugged western farm and succeeded admirably in following the threshing-machine, in husking corn, and in doing the other farm labors common to western fall and winter seasons. my first four months were spent on the farm of a widow. after the harvesting was over she offered me the farm, with its implements, barns, horses, and dairy herd, if i would remain and pay her certain percentages of the profits, but i told her that i was only a student in search of knowledge. the next spring i secured work with a very progressive irishman. he was a farmer, as well as secretary and treasurer of a modern creamery and butter factory. this work i preferred, because it was along my chosen line, and of a very high grade. for one year i worked in this establishment, and was not absent from duty even one day. my employer once said to me that he had heard and also read that negroes were lazy, shiftless, and untrustworthy. he had not come into contact with enough negroes to draw his own conclusions, so he asked me if there were more like me. i told him that i did not consider myself an exception, but that i had had the advantages of superior training at tuskegee. he did not know before that i was a tuskegee graduate. he seemed surprised to know that a graduate would work as a common farm-hand. he said he had found no white ones who would. i then explained to him that i was seeking a comprehensive knowledge of farming conditions north and south. i value that year on those western farms next to my training at tuskegee. i was planning to return to the south and start a farm of my own, when i was asked by mr. washington to join a company of tuskegee young men who were wanted to go to africa for the purpose of experimenting in cotton-growing under the german government. it was a call i could not resist. here was a chance for the largest possible usefulness. here i could have a part in a monumental undertaking, and i gladly agreed to go. the wages offered were flattering, and all expenses in connection with the trip were borne by the kolonial komittee of the german government. the executive council of the institute selected shepherd l. harris, allen l. burks, and myself, all graduates of the school, and mr. james n. calloway, a member of the faculty, who had had charge of the school's largest farm, and who was selected to head the expedition. we sailed from new york on november , , and reached togo by way of hamburg on december , . later five additional tuskegee students joined us, but of the original party i am the only one left. a report of the beginnings of our work was published after two years, with elaborate illustrations to commemorate what we had been able to accomplish. samples of the cotton made into hose and various other articles were distributed among those interested in the success of the experiment. that report may be secured from the kolonial-wirtschaftliches komittee, berlin, germany. not long since i sent to principal washington a summary of the work we have been trying to do. he regularly insists that tuskegee graduates shall send him reports of what they are doing, and my letter to him was in response to that request. we keep in touch with tuskegee and its work after leaving the institution through a correspondence prized by every graduate of the school. the summary i include here, as it may be of interest to the reader: at the outset it was very difficult to excite any interest at all in our work on the part of the natives. for some reason they mistrust every proposition made them by a foreigner, and in the beginning they would not even accept the gift of cotton-seeds from us. they claimed that if they should accept our seeds we would come again and claim our own with usury. many of the europeans here said that the natives would never become interested in the movement. but we worked on, and now already in the farming districts are hundreds of native cotton farms. now they no longer mistrust us, but they come and ask for cotton-seeds, and a conservative estimate places the incoming native harvest near the thousand-bale mark. of course the native methods are very irrational. they cultivate their cotton altogether as a secondary crop. but we are content, at the beginning, to let them cultivate in their own way. we find distributed through the colony not less than three distinct species of cotton, with some hybrids and varieties; but none of these are indigenous, and, having been left in a neglected state for centuries, are consequently not far removed from nature and are not so remunerative when put under even the best culture. the seeds imported from america are not able to survive the greatly changed conditions of climate. here is our greatest obstacle. our course was plain. if we did not have a plant that exactly suited us, we had to make it. the production of a commercial plant is very important. our present domestic seeds will yield about four hundred pounds of seed-cotton per acre, and the character of the fruit and the arrangement upon the stalk make it very expensive to harvest. besides, the stalk grows too much to a tree and is not prolific proportionately, and the quality of the lint is equal to american "middling." we are trying to develop a plant that will yield , pounds of seed-cotton to the acre, with a lint equal in quality to fully good "middling" or to allen's - / -inch staple. now suppose we succeed in making this plant as i have above outlined; the , acres under cultivation would then at least produce , bales of seed-cotton where they now produce but , bales. we can see how greatly the annual income of the natives will be increased. such a plant is forthcoming. through selection and crossing of american and native cottons we have obtained a new variety, which is satisfactory in every primary respect. it is more hardy than the average american plant and fifty per cent more productive than the average native plant. a sample of the lint of this new, would-be variety was submitted to the chamber of commerce in berlin, and it was pronounced good in every way, and brought in january, , about twenty cents a pound. there is one feature that i would like to speak about before i have done with the subject, because i know it will please you. in one of the letters you wrote me some time ago you advised me to "labor earnestly, quietly, and soberly, discharging my duty in the way that would eventually make me one of the most influential persons in the community." being faithful in small things is one of the fundamental principles of tuskegee, and is what i am able to do without even striving. it has become natural for me to be faithful, it matters not how small or insignificant the service. i find myself to-day possessing much influence in the work in which i am now engaged. in order to make secure the work begun and to insure a normal and well-balanced progress for the future, it was recommended to institute, along with the present undertaking, what i am pleased to call "a cotton-school and plant-breeding station." at this school are gathered young men from all over the colony, who come for a two-years' course in modern methods of farming. the boys are to be taught some of the simple rules and practises of agriculture. the boys are in number, representing the most intelligent classes; the station consists of acres of land, oxen, asses, horse, farm implements, cotton-gin, press, etc. such an institution appeared to me necessary to the healthy progress of the undertaking. there will soon be in operation ginning- and pressing-stations run by steam-power, besides a dozen or more hand-gins. this, i believe, tells the whole story. my health is very good. i hope you will write me often, because your letters are always so interesting and helpful. that my life has been as useful and successful as it has is due to the training and inspiration received at tuskegee institute, perhaps not so much to the agricultural department, for i did not finish that course, but to the general awakening and stimulating influence which permeates and is a part of the training of tuskegee students. and now while i write, and daily as i work, i am prompted on to better and stronger efforts because of the tuskegee in embryo that looms before me. and as i think, and work, and write, i am gratified because of the assurance that i am only one of that increasing host whose loyal hearts and useful lives shall make tuskegee live forever. viii the story of a teacher of cooking by mary l. dotson i graduated with the class of , tuskegee institute. it was the culmination of an event to which my mother and i had long looked forward. i was born in , in a small country village in the southwestern part of alabama. my mother was the exceptional colored woman of our community. she was a dressmaker and tailoress and had all the work she could do. she owned her own home, a quite comfortable one, and earned continuously from her work a tidy sum of money. i have always counted myself fortunate to have had such a home and such a mother. very few of the colored people about us owned their own homes; the village school was a poor makeshift, and it was in session only two to four months in a year--that is, when some one could be secured to teach it for the very small salary paid. both my father and mother had great respect for educationally equipped people, and desired that their children should have the opportunity to secure educational advantages. they tried in every possible way to interest the people in their own welfare, at least to the extent of supplementing the meager public-school fund, so as to provide decent educational facilities for the children. this effort failed. my mother had a room added to her home, and in it conducted, with my sister's help, a school for the children of the community. two of my sisters had been sent away to school, one to selma and the other to talladega. in addition to the school conducted at our home, my mother was able to get the cooperation of some of the people in other parts of the county, and two other schools were started. these schools were afterward taken up, and have since become helpful factors in the life of the people. my first lessons were given in the home, and my mother always claimed that i learned quite rapidly. as soon as i was old enough she also made me take lessons in sewing. sewing made no appeal to me, however, but cooking did, and whenever possible i would steal away to my grandmother's to cook with her. most of the time i was only permitted to wash dishes, but after a while i was permitted to help with her cooking. soon i was able to make cakes for my father's store. he was always very proud that his "little" daughter was able to replenish his stock when it was exhausted. at eight years of age i was sent to meridian, miss., to stay with an older sister and attend school. the advantages there were far superior to those provided for me at my home. after remaining two years at meridian i went to memphis, again in search of better school facilities. i have said that even at my age i had a fondness for cooking. at memphis i had my first cooking lesson, this lesson being given along with the eighth grade work of the public school. i was delighted, but my aunt refused to allow me to practise in the home, however, and so all the practise i got was at school. while in memphis, a tuskegee institute graduate came there to teach in the colored public schools. though we had lived in alabama, we had not, until that time, heard of the tuskegee institute. the loyalty of that graduate to the school, the stories of the opportunities provided, and all, delighted my mother, my aunt, and myself, and it was decided that i should be sent there. i entered the tuskegee institute in december, , and was assigned, after examination, to the junior class, the first class of the normal department. i remained at tuskegee during the following summer and worked in the students' dining-room as a waitress. the next year i was compelled to enter the night-school so as to help lighten my mother's burden. i knew nothing of the science of foods; nothing at all, at that time, of anything that indicated that cooking is a real science. none but girls of the senior class were then permitted to take cooking lessons, but i was often able to provide some excuse for visiting the very small and incompletely furnished room used for that purpose. i picked up much useful information in that way. when i reached the a middle class, next to the senior class, the young women of that class were permitted to take cooking lessons. now i was to learn cooking. i had long desired the opportunity, and the chance had come at last. the study of foods was among the first lessons brought to my attention. while anxious to know all that was to be taught, i could never see the reasons for knowing. i wanted to cook food, and that, with me, was the end. i began to study chemistry in the academic department, and when it was applied in my cooking lessons my eyes were opened. i now saw much that i had not dreamed of. a cooking teacher, a noted expert from wisconsin, came to the school about that time and lectured not only to the cooking classes, but to the young women teachers, and to the married women of the institute families. i was especially detailed to work with her, and was put to working out a diet for the students' boarding department. this instruction, with that of my regular instructor, convinced me that here was a real profession. i continued until the end of my school days to carry, along with all of my academic work, progressive work in cooking. i had made such progress that when i came to graduate, mrs. washington, who is in charge of the industries for girls, offered me a vacancy in the cooking division. i did not feel that i was adequate to the requirements of the place, and so remarked to mrs. washington and my instructor. they recommended that i spend the summer at the chautauqua summer school, new york. i prepared to go immediately following the tuskegee commencement exercises. a scholarship was secured for me. domestic science teachers of proved efficiency are in charge there. they were pleased with what i had already been able to accomplish. my work was with the classes taking courses in chemistry, physiology, bacteriology, management of classes, and cooking demonstration. at the end of the summer i felt stronger than ever, and returned to tuskegee in the fall with real enthusiasm. i first began my work in the little room in which i had been taught. another academic class of girls had now been admitted to the cooking classes, the three upper ones. when dorothy hall, the building in which all of the industries for girls are located, was completed, my division was given a suite of rooms, an assistant was provided, and the work broadened and made more useful than ever. under this division we now have a model kitchen, a regular kitchen in which the practise-cooking of the girls is done, two dining-rooms, a model bedroom, a model sitting-room, and a bathroom. principal washington has insisted from year to year that, since cooking is so fundamental, every young woman, in the day-school at least, shall take lessons in cooking. for the current school year, -' , young women are receiving instruction. the course covers, in its entirety, four years, but is so comprehensive that even one and two years fit young women for the cooking of ordinary foods. each of these girls is required to attend upon the outlined catalogue course of instruction, and in addition, from time to time, upon lectures bearing upon the several subjects comprehended under domestic science. the furnishing of the rooms is simple, but ample; the furniture, in the main, being made by the young women in the upholstering division. it has been widely praised by all who have seen it. after teaching for two years, i requested leave of absence for one year so as to attend the domestic-science school of the young women's christian association, boston. this additional study, of course, helped me very much. my studies were of foods, of the home, the teaching of demonstration and settlement classes, etc. much other useful information also came my way. when i returned to tuskegee the next year i felt more able than ever to be of assistance to the girls who come to us. i was better able to outline my course of study. the thing that pleased me greatly, however, both at chautauqua and at boston, was the fact that my former tuskegee training was commented on so favorably, as having been planned along properly comprehensive lines. no part of the tuskegee institute work is more valuable than that of the domestic training. it is the policy of the institution to give special attention to the training of girls in all that pertains to dress, health, physical culture, and general housekeeping. the girls are constantly under the strict and watchful care of the dean of the woman's department, miss jane e. clark, a graduate of oberlin college, a woman of liberal attainments and culture, and an example to them in all that makes for the development of character; of mrs. booker t. washington, the director of industries for girls, and of the women teachers, a body in every way representative of the qualities the girls are besought to seek to attain. a corps of matrons, four in number, specially assist the dean of the woman's department and keep in close individual touch with the girls. my own connection with the girls is in the cooking classes, as i have indicated, and in the parker model home and the practise cottage. the parker model home is the home of the young women who each year reach the senior class. eight large, conveniently arranged rooms are set apart for them, and they are taught things by having to do them. the class, as a whole, is required to do actual work in the line of general housekeeping, cooking and serving food, and laundering. in order to give practical demonstration in housekeeping and to develop the sense of responsibility in the work, a four-room house has been set aside, in which the senior girls "keep house." four girls at a time live in this house and have the entire care of it. they do all the work that pertains to ordinary housekeeping, from the monday morning's washing to the saturday's preparation for sunday. they are also charged with the responsibility of purchasing the food supplies which they consume. three dollars are allowed as the weekly expenditure for food. in view of the low prices that obtain for provisions here, four girls can live comfortably on this small allowance and have variety and plenty, and at the same time very wholesome food. thus the lesson of economy is taught in the most effective way. the girls learn to appreciate the purchasing power of money, a kind of training which boarding-students, who have so much done for them, do not get. they acquire the habit of evolving their own plans, of exercising unhampered their own tastes. regularity, system, exactness, neatness, and the feeling of responsibility, are all developed in this way. [illustration: a model dining-room. from the department where table-service is taught.] in both the parker model home and the practise cottage i have charge, with my assistant, of the oversight of what is done in the direction of providing food, cooking it, serving it, etc. twenty-one classes a week are now taught; the preparatory classes one hour per week, and the normal classes two to three hours per week. the girls are required to work in groups, to wear white aprons, caps, and sleeves, and to bring to the classes towels and holders. each girl brings her own blank books and keeps, through the year, a full report of each lesson given. most of the girls who come to us know absolutely nothing of cooking and housekeeping. they are, as a rule, like most beginners, more anxious to make cakes, candies, pies, etc., than to make bread, to care for utensils, and learn the practical things most necessary. improvement soon follows, however. we do some outside "extension work," in addition to what has been enumerated: a cooking class in the town of tuskegee for those unable to attend the school at all, and classes for the children at the children's house, the model training-school of the institution, where they are given understandable lessons in cooking and housekeeping. a bedroom, a dining-room, a bathroom, and a kitchen are also provided in connection with the children's house. i am happy in the thought that i have a part in this fundamental, home-building part of the instruction being given the girls who come from thirty-six states and territories of the union, and from cuba and porto rico and other foreign countries, to attend this famous school, of which i am myself a graduate. when the girls are fitted to make better homes, a better people are the result. to have some part in this work was a fond wish while a student, and is a prized privilege now that i have the opportunity to render some slight service in return for all that tuskegee has done for me. ix a woman's work by cornelia bowen of myself and the work i have done there is not a great deal to say. i was born at tuskegee, ala., on a part of the very ground now occupied by the famous tuskegee institute. the building first used by the school as an industrial building for girls was the house in which i was born. that old building (and two others, as well) is carefully preserved by the institution as an old landmark, and never do i go to tuskegee that i do not search it out among the more imposing and pretentious buildings which have come during the later years of the school's history. this building and the two other small ones were on the property when it was acquired by principal washington. my mother lived the greater part of her life at this place as the slave of colonel william bowen, who owned the plot of ground upon which the tuskegee institute now stands. the birthplace of my mother was baltimore, md. she was taught to read by her master's daughter in baltimore, and was never forbidden to read by those who owned her in alabama. when a child, i could never understand why she read so well and could not write. i was very sorry at times that she could read and was not like other children's mothers whom i knew. she always knew when i did not get my lessons, and often the hours of play that were dear to me were taken away until my reading lesson was learned. sundays, with my sisters gathered about her knees, we would sit for hours listening as mother would read church hymns for us. these days were days of freedom, as i do not remember, and know nothing of, those of slavery. my mother always refrained from telling her children frightful stories of the awful sufferings of the slave days. she occupied the position of seamstress and house-servant in her mistress's home, and was never allowed to mingle with plantation slaves. my first teacher was a good-hearted southern white woman, who knew my mother well and lived in the town of tuskegee. she taught me to read from mcguffey's first reader. i often read my lessons by looking at the pictures, for i did not know one word from another--so far as the letters were concerned. she detected one day, however, that i was looking out into the street and at the same time reading what i supposed to be the lesson. from that time on she devoted herself to teaching me so that i should know letters, and that i should read properly. she always claimed that i was an apt pupil. at any rate, at a very early age i was able to both read and write. as i grew older i was sent with my sisters to the public schools of tuskegee. it was always my ambition, it is not immodest to say, to excel in whatever i undertook. that which brought tears to my eyes quicker than any other one thing was to have some member of my class recite a better lesson, or "turn me down"--that is, go up ahead of me in the class. having been brought up in the methodist sunday-school, i later joined the methodist church. mr. lewis adams, a trustee of the tuskegee institute, was then superintendent of the methodist sunday-school. he was very desirous that the young boys and girls of the sunday-school should take an active part in the work. i was given a class of girls to teach much older than myself. they tried to disgust me at times by paying no attention to my teaching. i was not to be discouraged, although i cried many times because of their conduct. my own sister, who was a member of the class, also rebelled because i was younger than she; she thought that she should be teaching me instead of having it otherwise. it was the common opinion of the girls that even if i could read better than any of them, they were older and should be shown the preference. i owe much of my interest in the study of the bible to my mother and to mr. lewis adams, the faithful worker and sunday-school superintendent. mr. adams was in those early days as he is now, the leader of the colored people of the town of tuskegee in all that went to make for the uplifting of his people. i can pay no better tribute to him than to quote what principal washington himself says in his monumental autobiography, up from slavery: in the midst of the difficulties which i encountered in getting the little school started, and since then through a period of nineteen years, there are two men among all the many friends of the school in tuskegee upon whom i have depended constantly for advice and guidance; and the success of the undertaking is largely due to these men, from whom i have never sought anything in vain. i mention them simply as types. one is a white man and an ex-slaveholder, mr. george w. campbell; the other is a black man and an ex-slave, mr. lewis adams. these were the men who wrote to general armstrong for a teacher. mr. campbell is a merchant and banker, and had had little experience in dealing with matters pertaining to education. mr. adams was a mechanic, and had learned the trades of shoemaking, harness-making, and tinsmithing during the days of slavery. he had never been to school a day in his life, but in some way he had learned to read and write while a slave. from the first, these two men saw clearly what my plan of education was, sympathized with me, and supported me in every effort. in the days which were darkest financially for the school, mr. campbell was never appealed to when he was not willing to extend all the aid in his power. i do not know two men--one an ex-slaveholder, one an ex-slave--whose advice and judgment i would feel more like following in everything which concerns the life and development of the school at tuskegee than those of these two men. i have always felt that mr. adams, in a large degree, derived his unusual powers of mind from the training given his hands in the process of mastering well three trades during the days of slavery. i did not graduate from the public schools as children do nowadays in the cities. mr. booker t. washington's coming to tuskegee and the establishment of the tuskegee normal school put an end to the public-school work on "zion hill," where the tuskegee public school for colored children was located. i was one of the first of the students examined for entrance in the school. mr. washington gave the examination in arithmetic, grammar, and history. i never knew what a sentence was, nor that it had a subject and a predicate before he said so. i doubted very seriously the existence of such terms as these new ones mentioned by him. i thought i knew grammar, and i did, so far as i had been taught, but i had no insight into its real meaning and use. mr. washington decided after my examination that i would make a good junior pupil. it was all new to me and i could not understand all of the new words, even though simple they were, used by him. he himself took charge of our classes, and i have always been very proud that i can say that he was my teacher. he was most particular in regard to spelling and the right use of verbs. as a history teacher he was the best i have had the privilege of studying under. i have often said that if he could teach the classes in the beginning of history and grammar, and give talks on spelling at tuskegee as he did when i was a pupil there, many who finish at tuskegee would be thankful in the years to come. however, he can not do this until he is relieved of the great burden of raising funds for the school. the industrial departments at tuskegee were not, of course, so elaborate and so many while i was a pupil there. my four years at tuskegee were given wholly to class-room work. to my class, that graduated in --the first one to graduate, we proudly boast--three peabody medals were awarded for excellence in scholarship. our diplomas were also graded. we took an examination for the medals, as there were ten in the graduating class. i was awarded one of the medals. the class of ' had high ideals and always regretted that any member should receive a second-grade diploma. i was very thankful to learn after two weeks' waiting that, in the opinion of the faculty, i was worthy of a first-grade diploma. after graduating, i was employed as the principal of the training-school--now known as the "children's house"--of the tuskegee institute. feeling that i could be of more service to my people, and could better teach in the outside world the principles for which tuskegee stands, i resigned my work at tuskegee, after several terms, for a broader field of usefulness. a call reached mr. washington in for a teacher to begin a work in the vicinity of mt. meigs, ala., similar to the work done at tuskegee, but, of course, on a smaller scale. mr. e. n. pierce, of plainville, conn., had resolved to do something in the way of providing better school facilities for the colored people living on a large plantation, into the possession of which he had come. mr. washington answered the call while in boston, and telegraphed me that he thought me the proper person to take charge of and carry on the settlement work mr. pierce and his friends had in mind. i found at mt. meigs, after studiously investigating conditions, that the outlook for support was far from hopeful. not one person in the whole community owned a foot of land, and heavy crop mortgages were the burden of every farmer. it became evident at once that pioneer work was very much needed. homes were neglected, and the sacredness of family life was unknown to most of the people. the prospect was a gloomy one. the little baptist church in which the older people gathered for worship two sundays in each month badly needed repairing. i began first of all to connect myself with the sunday-school, and taught there every sunday. i organized a large class of the older people and encouraged them in every way to attend the sunday-school every sunday with the children. none of these mothers or fathers could read or write. i taught them scripture verses by repeating verse after verse till they were able to recite them for me. i also sought to teach them to read, and quite a large number can read now because of the opportunities provided by my sunday-school class. i have kept this class of older people together, and it is one of the most active ones of all. we have studied together many other things aside from the sunday-school lessons, and it has been necessary to do so, because the people have none of the opportunities provided for those who live in the towns and cities. i was early much encouraged to note that my efforts were appreciated by the people. i was often called upon to act as arbiter in all kinds of difficult and unpleasant disputes involving family relations and other differences among the people. many and many a time did i take the place of the minister and speak to the people when he could not be present. to teach the people self-help, the surest sign of progress, we decided to plan for a main school building which should mark the center of our activities. this building we were able to erect at a cost of $ , , and it is a satisfaction to the people of the community that they alone paid every cent of the cost, not one penny coming from the outside. the struggle was a long one, a hard one, with bad crops and other hard conditions interfering with our plans. this building is a two-story one, well ventilated, roomy, and accommodates pupils. from the first we have sought to follow in the footsteps of the parent institution, and have had the industries taught; agriculture was introduced at once. a large trades building was soon erected and teachers from tuskegee secured to help in the work. blacksmithing, wheelwrighting, carpentry, painting, and agriculture have been provided for the young men, and cooking, laundering, housekeeping, and sewing for the young women. the following buildings we now have in addition to those named: a dormitory for girls, a blacksmithing-shop, and a teachers' home. more than , pupils have come under the influence of the school. [illustration: the culture of bees. students at work in the apiary.] i have continuously, for seventeen years, with the exception of a short period, been in charge of the school; during the absence referred to i was studying in new york city, and afterward, through the generosity of a friend, was able to spend one year in queen margaret's college, glasgow, scotland. i am pleased with the progress the people have made. many now own their own homes, and eight and ten persons are no longer content to sleep in one-room log cabins, as was only too true during the earlier years of my work. i have regularly had "mothers' meetings," and these have raised the home life of the people to a higher standard. i know what i am saying when i state that sacred family ties are respected and appreciated as never before in this immediate region. the emotional church life of the people no longer prevails hereabouts, and the minister preaches forty minutes, instead of two hours as formerly. many farmers are out of debt, and a mortgage upon a man's crop is as disreputable as a saloon. the mt. meigs institute is the first school of its kind in alabama to demonstrate the fact that a school planted among the people in the rural districts of the south will make for intelligent, honest, thrifty citizenship. the success of this work made possible the establishment of many similar schools that have been planted in alabama and other parts of the south. of the young men and women who have attended my school i can not speak too highly. sixty have graduated, and fifty-seven of the number are still living. not only they, but many who could not afford to stay and graduate, are at work in an effort to help their less fortunate brethren. thirty-six of my graduates have taken academic or trade courses in other schools, twenty-one of them at tuskegee institute. ten have graduated from tuskegee, or from other schools. thirty-eight of them have learned trades, and all of them are at work and prosperous. they include dressmakers, cooks, housekeepers, laundresses, carpenters, blacksmiths, wheelwrights, painters, etc. several are successful farmers, and one of the girls is a large cotton-planter and general farmer. two are successful merchants in birmingham, ala.; one is a prominent minister, having also taken a course at the virginia union seminary, richmond, va.; one is in charge of an orphan asylum, and several are teachers; one taught with me for seven years after having also graduated from tuskegee. thirty have married, fifteen have bought homes, one has property valued at $ , , others have property ranging in value from $ to $ , . of the sixty, only four have failed to maintain their moral character. six teachers are now employed; we really need another. about boarding pupils are regularly enrolled, with pupils in daily attendance from near-by homes. the school is conducted just as economically as it well can be; the annual expense is about $ , , of which sum i have insisted that the people themselves shall annually meet one-half. if i have been of any service to my people, i owe it all to mr. washington and to one of the noblest women that ever lived, mrs. booker t. washington, née davidson, both of whom indelibly impressed upon me while attending the tuskegee institute those lessons which led me to want to spend myself in the helping of my people. x uplifting the submerged masses by w. j. edwards i was born in snow hill, wilcox county, ala., in the year . my mother died when i was twelve months old. about five or six years after this, perhaps, my father went away from snow hill; the next i heard he was dead. thus at the age of six i was left without father or mother. i was then placed in the care of my old grandmother, who did all that was in her power to send me to the school located near us. often for weeks i would go to school without anything but bread to eat. occasionally she could secure a little piece of meat. i well remember one morning, when i had started to school and she had given me all the meat that we had in the house, how it worried me that she should have nothing left for herself but bread. worrying over our cramped condition, i resolved that what she did for me should not be thrown away. i longed for the time when i could repay her for all she had done for me. at the age of twelve it pleased the almighty god to take from me my grandmother, my only dependence. i was now left to fight the battle of life alone. i need not tell of the hard times and sufferings that i experienced until i entered school at the tuskegee institute. but knowing that i was without parents, and being sick most of the time, my hardships can be imagined. through a minister i heard of the tuskegee normal and industrial institute in the early part of , and so favorably was it recommended that i decided i would rent two acres of land and raise a crop, and take the proceeds and go to tuskegee the following fall. after paying my rents and other small debts i had $ left with which to buy my clothes and start for tuskegee, which i did, starting on the th of december, , and arriving at tuskegee on the first day of january, , with $ . i had walked most of the way. i was at tuskegee for four and one-half years. i managed to stay there for that length of time by working one day in the week and every other saturday during the term and all of the vacations. during my senior year i was helped by mr. r. o. simpson, the owner of the plantation on which i was reared. i had trouble that year in deciding just what i should do after graduation. it had been my conviction that i must be a lawyer or a minister. in contemplating the idea of becoming a lawyer, however, i could not see wherein i could carry out the tuskegee idea of uplifting the masses. the ministerial profession was very little better, since the work of the minister in our section of the country must be limited almost wholly to one denomination. so i finally decided to try to plant an institution similar to the tuskegee school, an undenominational one, in a section of alabama where such work should be needed. i chose, as my field of labor, snow hill, the place from which i had gone to enter school at tuskegee. the school is now known as the snow hill normal and industrial institute, and is located in the very center of the "black belt" of the state of alabama. this is a much-used term; it is not applicable, however, to every southern state, neither does it apply to every county in any one state. it is only to certain counties in certain states to which it may properly be applied. wilcox and the seven adjoining counties constitute one of these sections in alabama. the latest census shows that these eight counties have a colored population of , , and a white population of , . alabama has sixty-seven counties, with a total colored population of , . thus it will be seen that one-eighth of the counties contain one-fourth of the entire colored population. because the colored people outnumber the white people in such great proportion, this is called the "black belt" of the state. these counties lie in the valley of the alabama river, and constitute the most fertile section of the state. during the early settlement of the state, white men coming into these fertile counties not only would settle as much land as a family of four or five in number could cultivate, but as much as they were able to buy negroes to cultivate. quite a few families with only five or six in number would have land enough to work from to , negroes. one can see from this how a few white families would, as they often did, own a whole county. now the negro is not migratory in his nature; having been brought to these counties during slavery, he has remained here in freedom. he is not, therefore, primarily responsible for his being here in such great numbers. these white families settled in little villages seven or eight miles apart. the distances between were made up of their plantations, on which were thousands of slaves. only a few negroes were employed as domestics in comparison with the great numbers who worked on plantations. it was only these few who, in learning to serve the white man, properly got a glimpse of real home life. the masses had absolutely no idea of such a life; nothing was done that would lead them to secure any such knowledge. since their emancipation the masses of these people have had neither competent preachers nor teachers; consequently most of them have remained hopelessly ignorant even until this day. one hearing the great condemnation heaped upon the negro in these sections for his failure to measure up to the standards of true citizenship and to proper standards of life would get the idea that the proud anglo-saxon has spent a great deal of time in trying to teach him the fundamental principles that underlie life; but this is not the case. there are exceptions to all rules, however, and here and there one may find noble and patriotic white men laboring for the uplift of fallen humanity without regard to race, color, or previous condition. during the summer of , after returning from tuskegee, being anxious to learn more of the real condition of our people in the "black belt," i visited most of the places in wilcox county and a few places in the counties of monroe, butler, dallas, and lowndes, making the entire journey on foot. it was a bright and beautiful morning in june when i started from my home, a log cabin. more than two hundred negroes were in the near-by fields plowing corn, hoeing cotton, and singing those beautiful songs often referred to as plantation melodies. notably, i am going to roll in my jesus' arms; o freedom! before i'd be a slave i'd be carried to my grave, etc., may be mentioned. with the beautiful fields of corn and cotton outstretched before me, and the shimmering brook like a silver thread twining its way through the golden meadows, and then through verdant fields, giving water to thousands of creatures as it passed, i felt that the earth was truly clothed in his beauty and the fulness of his glory. but i had scarcely gone beyond the limits of the field when i came to a thick undergrowth of pines. here we saw old pieces of timber and two posts. "this marks the old cotton-gin house," said uncle jim, my companion, and then his countenance grew sad; after a sigh he said: "i have seen many a negro whipped within an inch of his life at these posts. i have seen them whipped so badly that they had to be carried away in wagons. many never did recover." from this our road led first up-hill, then down, and finally through a stretch of woods until we reached carlowville. this was once the most aristocratic village of the southern part of dallas county. perhaps no one who owned less than a hundred slaves was able to secure a home within its borders. here still are to be seen the stately mansions of the lydes, the lees, the wrumphs, the bibbses, the youngbloods, and the reynoldses. many of these mansions have been partly rebuilt and remodeled to conform to modern styles of architecture, while others have been deserted and are now fast decaying. usually these mansions are occupied by others than the original families. the original families have sold out or have died out. in carlowville stands the largest white church in dallas or wilcox counties. it has a seating capacity of , , excluding the balcony, which, during slavery, was used exclusively for the negroes of the families attending. our stay in carlowville was necessarily short, as the evening sun was low and the nearest place for lodging was two miles ahead. before reaching this place we came to a large one-room log cabin, feet by feet, on the road-side, with a double door and three holes for windows cut in the sides. there was no chimney nor anything to show that the room could be heated in cold weather. this was the hope-well baptist church. here members congregated one sunday in each month and spent the entire day in eating, shouting, and "praising god for his goodness toward the children of men." here also the three months' school was taught during the winter. a few hundred yards beyond this church brought us to the home of a deacon jones. he was living in the house occupied by the overseer of the plantation during slavery. it was customary for deacon jones to care for strangers who chanced to come into the community, especially for the preachers and teachers. so here we found rest. his family consisted of himself, his wife, and six children--two boys and four girls. mrs. jones was noted for her ability to prepare food well, and in a short while invited us to a delicious supper of fried chicken, fried ham, some very fine home-made sugar-cane sirup, and an abundance of milk and butter. at supper deacon jones told of the many preachers he had entertained and their fondness for chicken. after supper i spent some time in trying to find out the real condition of the people in this section. mr. jones told me how, for ten years, he had been trying to buy some land, and had been kept from it more than once, but that he was still hopeful of getting the right deeds for the land for which he had paid. he also told of many families who had recently moved into this community. these newcomers had made a good start for the year and had promising crops, but they were compelled to mortgage their growing crops in order to get "advances" for the year. when asked of the schools, he said that there were more than five hundred children of school age in his township, but not more than two hundred of these had attended school the previous winter, and most of these for a period not longer than six weeks. he also said that the people were very indifferent as to the necessity of schoolhouses and churches. quite a few who cleared a little money the previous year had spent it all in buying whisky, in gambling, in buying cheap jewelry, and for other useless articles. after spending two hours in such talk i retired for the evening. thus ended the first day of my search for first-hand information. we had a fine night's rest. mr. jones was up at early dawn to feed his horses and cattle, and before the sun was up he was out on his farm. mrs. jones and one of the daughters were left to prepare breakfast, and soon they, too, were ready to join the others on the farm. we took advantage of this early rising and were soon off on our journey. instead of going farther northward, we turned our course westward for the town of tilden, which is only eight miles west of snow hill. the road from carlowville to tilden is somewhat hilly, but a very pleasant one, and for miles the large oak-trees formed an almost perfect arch. on reaching tilden we learned that there would be a union meeting of two of the churches that night. i decided that this would give me an opportunity to study the religious life of these people for myself. the members of churches no. and no. assembled at their respective places at eight o'clock. the members of church no. had a short praise-service, and formed a line of procession to march to church no. . all the women of the congregation had their heads bound in pieces of white cloth, and they sang their peculiar songs as they marched. when the members of church no. were within a few hundred yards of church no. , the singing then alternated, and finally, when the members of church no. came to church no. , they marched around this church three times before entering it. after entering, six sermons were preached to the two congregations by six different ministers, and at least three of these could not read a word in the bible. each minister occupied at least one hour. their texts were as often taken from webster's blue-back speller as from the bible, and sometimes this would be held upside down. it was about two o'clock in the morning when the services were concluded. here, again, we found no schoolhouses, and the three months' school had been taught in one of the little churches. the next day we started for camden, a distance of sixteen miles. this section between tilden and camden is perhaps the most fertile section of land in the state of alabama. taking a southwest course from tilden, i crossed into wilcox county again, where i saw acres of corn and miles of cotton, all being cultivated by negroes. the evening was far advanced when we reached camden, but having been there before, we had no difficulty in securing lodging. camden is the seat of wilcox county, and has a population of about three thousand inhabitants. the most costly buildings of the town were the court-house and jail, and these occupied the most conspicuous places. here great crowds of negroes would gather on saturdays to spend their earnings of the week for a fine breakfast or dinner on the following sunday, or for useless trivialities. on saturday evenings, on the roads leading to and from camden, as from other towns, could be seen groups of negroes gambling here and there, and buying and selling whisky. as the county had voted against licensing whisky-selling, this was a violation of the law, and often the commission merchant, a negro, was imprisoned for the offense, while those who supplied him went free. in camden i found one negro schoolhouse; this was a box-like cottage, by feet, and was supposed to seat more than one hundred students. this school, like those taught in the churches, was open only three months in the year. after a two days' stay in camden i next visited miller's ferry; this is on the alabama river, twelve miles west of camden. the road from camden is one of the best roads in the state, and for miles and miles one could see nothing but cotton and corn. at miller's ferry a negro schoolhouse of ample proportions had been built on judge henderson's plantation. here the school ran seven months in the year, and the colored people in the community were prosperous and showed a remarkable degree of intelligence. their church was equally as attractive as their schoolhouse. judge henderson was for twelve years probate judge of wilcox county. he proved to be one of the best judges this county has ever had, and even unto this day he is admired by all, both white and black, rich and poor, for his honesty, integrity, and high sense of justice. from judge henderson's place we traveled southward to rock-west, a distance of more than fifteen miles. during this journey hundreds of negroes were seen at work in the corn- and cotton-fields. these people were almost wholly ignorant, as they had neither schools nor teachers, and their ministers were almost wholly illiterate. at rock-west i found a very intelligent colored man who had attended school at selma, ala., for a few years. he owned his home and ran a small grocery. he told of the hardships with which he had to contend in building up his business, and of the almost hopeless condition of the negroes about there. he said that they usually made money each year, but that they did not know how to keep it. the merchants would induce them to buy buggies, machines, clocks, etc., but would never encourage them to buy homes. we were very much pleased with the reception which mr. darrington gave us, and felt very much like putting into practise our state motto, "here we rest," at his home, but our objective point for the day was fatama, sixteen miles away. on our journey that afternoon we saw hundreds of negro one-room log cabins. some of these were located in the dense swamps and some on the hills, while others were miles away from the public road. most of these people had never seen a locomotive. we reached fatama about seven o'clock that night, and here for the first time we were compelled to divide our crowd in order to get a night's lodging. each of us had to spend the night in a one-room cabin. it was my privilege to spend the night with uncle jake, a jovial old man, a local celebrity. after telling him of our weary journey, he immediately made preparation for me to retire. this was done by cutting off my bed from the remainder of the cabin by hanging up a sheet on a screen. while somewhat inconvenient, my rest that night was pleasant, and the next morning found me very much refreshed and ready for another day's journey. our company assembled at uncle jake's for breakfast, after which we started for pineapple. we found the condition of the negroes between fatama and pineapple much the same as that of those we had seen the previous day. no schoolhouse was to be seen, but occasionally we would see a church at the cross-roads. we reached pineapple late in the afternoon. from pineapple we went to greenville, and from greenville to fort deposit, and from fort deposit we returned to snow hill, after having traveled a distance of miles and visiting four counties. in three of these counties there is a colored population of , between the ages of five and twenty years, and a white population of , of the same ages. in fact, the negro school population of wilcox and the seven adjoining counties is as follows: wilcox, , ; dallas, , ; lowndes, , ; monroe, , ; butler, , ; marengo, , ; clark, , ; perry, , ; making a total of , . speaking of public schools in the sense that educators use the term, the colored people in this section have none. of course, there are so-called public schools here and there, running from three to five months in the year and paying the teachers from $ . to $ per month; but the teachers are incompetent, and the schools are usually in the hands of those not too much interested in the cause of education. many of these trustees do not visit the schools once in ten years, and they know absolutely nothing of the methods of discipline even used by the teachers. our trip through this section revealed the following facts: ( ) that while many opportunities were denied our people, they abused many privileges; ( ) that there was a colored population, in this section visited, of more than , , and a school population of , ; ( ) that the people were ignorant and superstitious; ( ) that the teachers and preachers for the most part were of the same condition; ( ) that there were no public or private libraries and reading-rooms to which they had access; ( ) that, strictly speaking, there were no public schools and only one private one. now what can be expected of any people in such a condition? can the blind lead the blind? they could not in the days of old, and it is not likely that they can now. after this trip through the "black belt" i was more convinced than ever before of the great need of an industrial school in the very midst of these people; a school that would correct the erroneous ideas the people held of education; a school that would put most stress upon the things which the people were most likely to have to do with through life; a school that would endeavor to make education practical rather than theoretical; a school that would train men and women to be good workers, good leaders, good husbands, good wives, and finally train them to be fit citizens of the state, and proper subjects for the kingdom of god. with this idea the snow hill normal and industrial institute was started ten years ago in an old, dilapidated, one-room log cabin with one teacher, three students, and no state appropriation, and without any church or society responsible for one dollar of its expenses. aside from this unfortunate state of affairs, the condition of the people was most miserable. this was due partly to poor crops and partly to bad management on their part. in many instances the tenants were not only unable to pay their debts, but were also unable to pay their rents. in a few cases the landlords had to provide, at their own expense, provisions for their tenants. this was simply another way of establishing soup-houses on the plantations. the idea of buying land was foreign to all of them, and there were not more than twenty acres of land owned by the colored people in this whole neighborhood. the churches and schools were practically closed, while crime and immorality were rampant. the carrying of men and women to the chain-gang was a frequent occurrence. aside from all this, these people believed that the end of education was to free their children from manual labor rather than prepare them for more and better work. they were very much opposed to industrial education. when the school was started, many of the parents came to the school and forbade our "working" their children, stating as their objection that their children had been working all their lives, and they did not mean to send them to school to learn to work. not only did they forbid our having their children work, but many took their children out of school rather than have them do so. a good deal of this opposition was kept up by illiterate preachers and incompetent teachers, here and there, who had not had any particular training for their profession. in fact, ninety-eight per cent of them had attended no school. we continued, however, to keep the "industrial plank" in our platform, and year after year some additional industry was added until we now have thirteen industries in constant operation. agriculture is the foremost and basic industry of the institution. we do this because we are in a farming section and ninety-five per cent of the people in this section depend upon some form of agriculture for a livelihood. how changed are the conditions now as regards our work! from the little one-room log cabin, the school has grown so that it now owns acres of land, buildings, counting large and small, with property valued at $ , . from three students, it has grown so that we now have a school with more than four hundred students annually in attendance, representing more than a dozen alabama counties and seven states. it has also grown from one to twenty teachers and officers. including the class that graduated last term, thirty-seven have finished the course. all are living but one. no charge of criminal wrong-doing has been brought against even one of them. one of the young women is married to the head teacher, another to the superintendent of industries, and seven other graduates are employed in responsible positions by the school. one of these has taken a special course at harvard university, three have taken additional courses at tuskegee, one is in charge of the woman's department of a large school in mississippi, two have founded schools of their own, one at tilden, ala., the other at greensboro, ala. all have remained in the country among the masses whom they are helping to uplift, and most of them in wilcox county, the county in which the school is located. of the thirty-seven graduates, twenty-seven own their own homes. aside from the graduates, about five hundred others have been under the influence of the school for a longer or shorter period; many of these are making exceptionally good records. the growth on the part of the people has kept corresponding pace with the growth of the institution. the farmers, who ten years ago depended wholly on the landlords for food supplies, have grown to be independent, raising most of their own supplies. they are rapidly passing from the renters' class to the owners' class; they are possessing themselves of the soil. this may be seen from the fact that ten years ago they owned in this county but twenty acres of land; to-day they own , acres of land. many of the most prosperous farmers have opened bank-accounts. the people no longer oppose industrial education; they now refuse to send their children to any school where they can not secure some industrial education. for our part we find it wholly impossible to accommodate all who come to us from time to time to take the trades' instruction. the churches hereabout have been revived, new and better schoolhouses have been built, and the county school terms extended in many cases from two and three to five and six months; competent teachers and preachers, both intellectually and morally, have been employed. crime and immorality are being uprooted, and virtue and civic righteousness are being planted in their stead. the commercial and economic conditions have improved in every way, and there was never a more cordial relation existing between the races in this section than now. with these things true, the one-room log cabin can not survive, and is rapidly giving way to houses having three, four, and, in some places, six and seven rooms. after having been here at snow hill for a few years, we felt that while we were helping the children in the class-room, something should be done to help the parents; so we organized what we call the snow hill negro conference, on january , . this conference is modeled after the famous tuskegee negro conferences, and meets once a year. at this conference the farmers from this and the adjoining counties come together. there were at our last conference. the school is almost wholly given up to farmers on conference day. here we listen to educational, religious, moral, and financial reports from many sections. those who have succeeded, tell the others how they have done so, and those who have not succeeded tell how they are trying to succeed. from these annual meetings the farmers get new ideas, new information, and take fresh courage; they return to their farms more determined to succeed than ever before. when we commenced these meetings the reports were discouraging, and from many sections the condition of the race thereabout seemed hopeless. many said that in the same section they could not buy land at any price. there were only twenty acres of land reported at the first conference. at the last one, reports showed that the people had purchased more than four thousand acres since the beginning of these conferences seven years ago. at our first meeting the reports showed that the one-room log-cabin home was the rule; at our last meeting it had become the exception. these conferences have tried all along to induce the people to raise more of their own food-supplies. we also waged a ceaseless war upon the one-room log-cabin home, which has resulted in almost annihilating them. this war shall never cease until there is not a one-room log cabin left in all this section. the one-room log cabin is a pestilent menace to decent living. following the farmers' conference, we have the workers' conference during vacation. this conference is chiefly composed of teachers and preachers, and represents an idea got from tuskegee. in this conference we get a clear idea of what the teachers and preachers are doing, the methods they are pursuing, and the results being achieved. the teachers are encouraged to make education less theoretical and more practical; the preachers are urged to preach to our people less of the dying religion and more of the living religion. while they are encouraged to build better schoolhouses and churches, they are also reminded of the fact that these are not the ends, but only the means to an end; that they are only of value in proportion as they can be used to build up a hopeful and noble life in the communities where they are located. however much the material side may be held up to them, they are told that in the last analysis the spiritual is always the end. the reports at our last workers' conference were most encouraging. wherever the intelligent teacher and preacher have gone, the condition of the people has been improved. to my mind this demonstrates most clearly that the great need of our people is intelligent leaders, and it is this that we ask for; it is this for which snow hill is striving. while much good is being accomplished through the workers' conference, the "black belt improvement society," which i have organized, deals more directly with the people in our immediate neighborhood. the aim of this society is clearly set forth in its constitution, a part of which is as follows: . this society shall be known as the black belt improvement society. its object shall be the general uplift of the people of the black belt of alabama; to make them better morally, mentally, spiritually, and financially. . it shall be the object of the black belt improvement society to, as far as possible, eliminate the credit system from our social fabric; to stimulate in all members the desire to raise, as far as possible, all their food supplies at home, and pay cash for whatever may be purchased at the stores. . to bring about a system of cooperation in the purchase of what supplies can not be raised at home wherever it can be done to advantage. . to discuss topics of interest to the communities in which the various societies may be organized, and topics relating to the general welfare of the race, and especially to farmers. . to teach the people to practise the strictest economy, and especially to obtain and diffuse such information among farmers as shall lead to the improvement and diversification of crops, in order to create in farmers a desire for homes and better home conditions, and to stimulate a love for labor in both old and young. each local organization may offer small prizes for the cleanest and best-kept house, the best pea-patch, and the best ear of corn, etc. . to aid each other in sickness and in death; for this purpose a fee of ten cents will be collected from each member every month and held sacred, to be used for no other purpose whatever. . it shall be one of the great objects of this society to stimulate its members to acquire homes, and urge those who already possess homes to improve and beautify them. . to urge our members to purchase only the things that are absolutely necessary. . to exert our every effort to obliterate those evils which tend to destroy our character and our homes, such as intemperance, gambling, and social impurity. . to refrain from spending money and time foolishly or in unprofitable ways; to take an interest in the care of our highways, in the paying of our taxes, and the education of our children; to plant shade trees, repair our yard fences, and in general, as far as possible, bring our home life up to the highest standards of civilization. this society has several standing committees, as follows: on government, on education, on business, on housekeeping, on labor, and on farming. the chairman of these respective committees holds monthly meetings in the various communities, at which time various topics pertaining to the welfare and uplift of the people are discussed. as a result of these meetings the people return to their homes with new inspiration. these meetings are doing good in the communities where they are being held, and our sincere hope is that such meetings may be extended. the ills that most retard the negroes of the rural south are sought to be reached by the school and by the several organizations which have been organized by it. these articles of the simple constitution go to the very bottom of the conditions. if one would again take the trip which i made in the summer of , he would find that two-thirds of the land lying between snow hill and carlowville, a distance of seven miles, is now owned and controlled entirely by negroes. in carlowville, instead of the old one-room-cabin church, there is a beautiful church with glass windows. an acre of land has been bought, and a neat and comfortable schoolhouse with glass windows has been erected, and a graduate of my school is the teacher. many families in that section are now owning homes. a great revolution is also taking place in tilden. john thomas, one of our graduates, class of ' , has gone into this place, induced the people to buy thirty acres of land, on which they have erected a splendid building having two rooms, and the school is being conducted seven months in the year. many farmers in this section are now owning homes, some of them owning as much as acres of land. this improvement is steadily going on in all sections where the influence of our school has reached. thus it will be seen that the work in the class-room is only a small part of what we are trying to do for the uplift of the negro people in the black belt. in order that this good work may be pushed more rapidly, it is necessary that we give some time to this particular movement. this can only be done by our having here a strong and healthy institution with an endowment sufficiently large to relieve us of our great financial burden. an adequate endowment would meet this need. while we are anxious to raise an endowment fund, our burden could be partially relieved by the school securing possession of a large plantation in the neighborhood which is now, and has been for three years, offered to us. this plantation contains between three thousand and four thousand acres of land, and can be bought for $ , , and would afford us unbounded opportunity for the extension of the agricultural features of our work, which would enable us to raise more, if not all, of our food supplies. i have tried as simply as possible in this article to state the real condition of the people in the black belt section of this state, and to tell how we are trying to cope with these conditions. our constant feeling is that there is so much to be done, and that so little has been accomplished. in closing: the inspiration derived at tuskegee; the instruction given in shop, and field, and class-room; the guiding hand of its illustrious principal--all of these have had their impress upon me and have urged me to dedicate myself unreservedly to these people, among whom i was reared, among whom i shall continue to labor, among whom i shall at the last be buried. xi a dairyman's story by lewis a. smith in any attempt to write a story of my life and work, the "work" feature must predominate. i was born march , , at louisville, ky. my father and mother were slaves of old georgia stock. my father, after freedom, was for a time permitted to attend howard university, washington, d. c. he was a candy-maker. my mother attended atlanta university. in my parents left atlanta, where my two brothers were born, and located in louisville. leaving louisville in , the family moved to chicago, ill., where i lived until i entered tuskegee institute, of which my mother and i had heard much. after reaching chicago, my parents established a confectionery store. my earlier days were mostly spent behind the counter in the store, not as a clerk helping to earn profits, but in an endeavor to make profits disappear. i was much in love with the nice things we had for sale. an unfortunate family "incident" in resulted in placing my two brothers and me in the custody of my mother. our childhood pleasures were marred by this affair. although i was too young to fully understand the situation, i realized that i lacked the pleasures that other children had; i realized the absence of that paternal care and affection that other children enjoyed--the home was not complete. i can not recall my childhood with any special pleasure. i entered the public schools of chicago when i was seven years of age. i made a very good record in my studies, attested by the fact that i made two grades the first year, and one grade with excellent marks each succeeding year thereafter. my deportment was not exemplary. i can remember occasions when i was severely reprimanded for being absent from school without an excuse, having gone fishing, or bathing in lake michigan, or skating in the parks in winter. [illustration: in the dairy. students using separators.] that was before the compulsory school law went into effect, or at least before it affected me. i was not, however, a bad boy. i was neither rough nor tough; i had no bad habits other than smoking corn-silk cigarettes, and i soon stopped that as the novelty of the thing wore off. my young mind and body required recreation. unlike the children of the south, who had three months of school and nine months of play or work in the fields, i had nine months of school and three months of play. i thought the ratio was in the wrong proportion. but as i grew older i became more settled and more interested in my studies. although during the greater portion of my school life in chicago i was the sole negro pupil in my classes, yet i do not remember a single occasion when prejudice was leveled at me by teacher or schoolmate. early, after throwing off my wildness, i realized the need and the advantage of possessing an education, and, having such excellent facilities at hand, determined to become educated, and diligently pursued that object. just as i was about to enter the eighth grade, however, i had to give up going to school, and go to work. i secured employment with a wood-engraving firm as general office- and errand-boy. my wages were $ . a week. about fifty cents of this sum i spent each week for car-fare and incidentals. as i lived three miles from my work it would have been necessary for me to spend my whole allowance for car-fare had i not stolen rides on railroad trains. i often wonder now how i could have jumped on and off swift-moving trains, day after day, without receiving some serious injury. surely providence must have protected me in my endeavor to save my scanty earnings. my clothing did not cost much, as i was the "happy" recipient of the cast-off clothes of the older members of the family. my work was agreeable and my employer was generously sympathetic. realizing that wood-engraving and illustrating would offer remunerative employment, i sought to learn the trade, but was told that i would have to serve an apprenticeship of six months without pay; that precluded all hope of learning that trade. manhood approached before i was prepared to do anything. i did not earn much in my youth, and could not expect to earn much in manhood without preparation. i then resolved to enter school again, but the expense of a thorough course was an apparently insurmountable obstacle. i had been unable to save much from my meager allowance. i had heard of the tuskegee institute and of the opportunities there offered to poor young men and women. i decided to enter that school. a friend helped me to purchase an excursion ticket to atlanta, ga., where was being held the cotton-states and international exposition. i left chicago in november, and after two days spent in atlanta with relatives and in seeing the sights, i exchanged my return coupon for a ticket to tuskegee. i arrived at chehaw, the station where passengers transfer for tuskegee, and taking passage in a wagonette, a crude substitute for our modern means of interurban transit--the little train was not running on that day--we drove through a picturesque country abounding in woods, vales, and cultivated fields, occasionally coming across landmarks of antebellum days. here one was really in communion with nature, so different it was from the massive specimens of architecture, the clatter of horses on the cobblestone pavement, the rattle of elevated trains, and the activity of commercial life of the western metropolis from which i had come. as we reached high elevations glimpses of the institution came into view. tuskegee was a surprise to me; it surpassed my fondest hope. the majestic buildings, the monuments to the fidelity and building skill of past classes, the well-designed landscape architecture, made me feel that i had at last found the place where i could be prepared for real life. i received a cordial welcome from the teachers; also from the students, especially from those connected with the religious and literary organizations, of which there are quite a number. when asked the industry i wished to learn, i chose that of agriculture. like hundreds of boys confined to city environment, i had a craving for nature, a fondness for live stock, and for all that i should come in contact with while taking that course. i worked during the daytime the first year and attended school at night, thereby acquiring experience and accumulating a credit to apply to my board when i should enter the day-school. soon after entering the agricultural department i had made such progress that i was placed in charge of the hotbeds and grew vegetables all winter. it was a marvelous accomplishment with me, for i could not have grown them even in the summer before i entered that department. the care of the various seeds used on the farm was also in my charge. this privilege afforded me opportunities for seed-testing and for observing plant development; it was all very instructive. while attending the academic classes at night, the daytime was devoted entirely to study in the various divisions of the agricultural department. at the expiration of my first year as a night-school student, i entered day-school, devoting about equal time to academic and agricultural classes, and a small portion of the time to the study of music, being a member of the institute brass band, and in my last year a member of the orchestra. during my second summer's vacation i went into the southern part of montgomery county, ala., in search of a school to teach. there was no schoolhouse, no school fund, nor any appropriation available except for a three months' term during the winter. after further canvass i was permitted to open a school in the little church at strata, ala. the large attendance of pupils and their eagerness to learn won my sympathy and i would gladly have planted a sprig of tuskegee there had i not had strong inclinations for a commercial life. i conducted a class in agriculture for the benefit of the farmers. i believe it was helpful to them. my spare time was spent in going through the country noting the waste of the land and the lack of enterprise among the owners and tenants, due in large measure, i am sure, to the mortgage system and the deep ignorance of the people. most of the evenings i spent listening to the terrible stories of slavery days from the lips of those who had passed through them. in the midst of this service i received a telegram announcing the death of my mother. i was too far from home to return in time to see the last of her, even if i had had the means to do so. i was in grief; i had sustained a great loss; she was my all, my mother. i returned to tuskegee and graduated with the class of ' . i am grateful to tuskegee institute, to the genius of mr. washington, for the opportunities i had to acquire an education; to the members of the faculty for their assistance, and to my father, who gave me much of material aid and encouragement. after graduating, i spent two months at special work in the school dairy; then, with the assistance of my father, i secured a position with the forest city creamery company of rockford, ill. entering this company's employ about the th of august, , i have been employed ever since at the same place. the forest city creamery is one of the largest butter-making concerns in the united states, averaging twenty thousand pounds of butter per day. we make two grades of butter, known as process, or renovated, and creamery butter. there are employed at this plant about seventy-five persons. my work consists in what is known to the trade as "starter-making" and preparing the flavor for the butter. the work is bacteriological, propagating a species of bacteria which produces the pleasant aroma and flavor of good butter. it requires not only an understanding of bacteriology, but skilled workmanship and earnest attention to details. the secret processes of this company are known to a close group only, of which i am one. my work here has been entirely successful and satisfactory to my employers, if i may judge from a highly complimentary interview with one of the officers of the company regarding my work, published in one of the leading daily newspapers of rockford, and the fact that i am now receiving double my initial wages. i have a record not surpassed by any other employee of this company. between june , , following a wedding-trip to tuskegee, and august , , when we visited the st. louis exposition, i have worked each day at the creamery, including sundays and holidays, my work requiring that i do so. these , consecutive days of labor were made possible by a total abstinence from all intoxicating liquors and tobacco. my success here can be credited to the efficient training i received at tuskegee. "it is not well for man to live alone." following this injunction i have taken unto myself a helpmeet, who is all that the word implies, loving, economical, and well trained in domestic arts. shortly after our marriage we began paying for a home of eleven rooms located in a good residence portion of the city. the lower part of the house, containing six rooms, we occupy, and have comfortably furnished; the up-stairs portion, containing five rooms, we rent to a family of white people; the rent we receive equals the interest on the investment. we have one child, a little girl two years old, who furnishes sunshine to an already happy home. our house is surrounded by a lawn with shade- and fruit-trees, and many flower-beds. the back yard contains a garden with berry plants, a well-built and well-arranged poultry-house, a yard containing a flock of pure-bred fowls, the nucleus of a future enterprise, and a barn with a good horse, a buggy, etc., for our pleasure and convenience. my ambition when leaving school was first to endeavor to become independent financially, so that i might enjoy my old age; then, if it were possible, to gain that independence early in life by economy, by earning for myself what i earn for my employer; to try to make it possible for the negro farmer to sell his produce to the negro gin, the negro cotton-mill, or creamery, as the case might be; my idea being, by this community of interest, to help the negro people about me to help themselves and their fellows. i believe, in the words of the motto of the class of ' --my class--that "we rise upon the structure we ourselves have builded." i have tried to live with this thought ever before me. xii the story of a wheelwright by edward lomax i was born in the small town of demopolis, in the western part of the state of alabama, january , . my uncle was a wheelwright, and i, at an early age, was led to desire to become an artisan such as my uncle was. i interceded with him and became the "handy boy" around the shop in which he worked, and picked up much useful information; but there was nothing progressive or directly helpful in the work i was permitted to do. i also did some little work in blacksmithing while in the shop. what to me was a fortunate circumstance was the meeting with a chance acquaintance who was returning from tuskegee institute for his vacation. this young man told me most glowing stories of the tuskegee institute. he was so enthusiastic that he imparted much of his enthusiasm to me. he himself was taking instruction in the wheelwrighting division, and could give at first-hand the information i most desired. the whole tuskegee plan was outlined to me: how i could learn my trade, and at the same time get book instruction; how i could earn by labor enough to carry me through school while securing to myself the advantages mentioned. i had had to learn by seeing others do, and it was now pointed out to me how i could "learn by doing," and that was the thing i wanted. i had been used to being kept from the use of tools and everything that would really help me to learn wheelwrighting; the only chances i ever had being to "knock about" the shop, occasionally having some worthless job, with cast-off tools to work with, entrusted to me. the upshot of it was that i decided to go to tuskegee, and carefully saved as much of my wages of $ . per week as i possibly could, so as to purchase clothing, books, and those incidentals insisted upon by the school that each student must have. i wrote to the school, and received a letter from principal washington admitting me should i find myself able to meet the requirements stated as follows: no person will be admitted to the school as a student who can not pass the examination for the c preparatory class. to enter this class one must be able to read, write, and understand addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division. applicants for admission must be of good moral character and must bring at least two letters of recommendation as to their moral character from reliable persons of their communities. _the day-school._--the day-school is intended for those who are able to pay all or the greater part of their expenses in cash. students attending the day-school are required to work one day in each week and every other saturday. they must also be fourteen years of age, of good physique, and able to pass the examination for the c preparatory class, as stated above. _the night-school._--the requirements for entering the night-school are the same as for entering the day-school, with the additional requisites: applicants must be fully sixteen years of age instead of fourteen, and physically able to perform an adult's labor. cripples are under no circumstances admitted to this department. the night-school is designed for young men and women who earnestly desire to educate themselves, but who are too poor to pay even the small charge made in the day-school. students will not be admitted to the night-school who are known to be able to enter the day-school; and when a student has fraudulently gained admission, upon discovery of the deception, must either enter the day-school or leave the institution. trades are assigned as nearly as possible in accordance with the students' desires. in assigning young men and women to a trade, their mental ability and intelligence to grasp it, and physical ability to perform the duties required, are all carefully considered. at the beginning of the school year it often happens that certain of the industries are quickly filled; and when this happens, applicants for this particular industry are assigned to some other division until a vacancy occurs. the school authorities also sent me a card notifying me as to the school's requirements in the way of discipline. these seemed to me to be rather overexacting, but i resolved to try to live up to them if i should be admitted. among these were the following: the rules governing the school are aimed to be those which best promote the welfare and happiness of all. each student is required to have a bible. regular habits of rest and recreation are required. no student is allowed to leave the grounds without permission. male students when permitted to leave the grounds must wear the regulation cap. no young woman is permitted to leave the grounds of the institution unless accompanied by a teacher. the institute has adequate facilities for bathing, and all students are required to bathe at stated periods. bath-houses for young men and young women, with swimming-pools and shower-bath appointments, afford every facility in this regard. the use of intoxicating drinks and the use of tobacco are strictly forbidden. dice-playing and card-playing are strictly prohibited. students are liable to be dropped for inability to master their studies, irregularity of attendance, or for failure to comply with the regulations of the school after due notice. the demeriting system has been adopted by the school as the principal method of discipline for misconduct: - / demerit marks constitute a "warning," and upon receiving three warnings a student is liable to suspension or expulsion, according as the executive council may determine. all non-resident students are expected to board on the school-grounds, unless there is some good reason for a contrary arrangement. students are not registered for a shorter period than one month; those who leave before the end of a month are charged for a full month's board. when students desire to leave the school they are required to have parents or guardian write directly to the principal for permission to do so. the dean of the woman's department meets all the young women of the school each friday afternoon, and the commandant all of the young men every saturday evening, at which times talks, both instructive and corrective, are given. no student is excused from these meetings except by special permission. students who sign a contract to work a specified time at some trade or other work must be released from their contract before application for an excuse from school will be considered. any student leaving without a written excuse will not be allowed to return, and students under contract will not only be dismissed, but will forfeit whatever cash there may be to their credit in the school treasury. students must settle their accounts before leaving. remittances in payment of bills should be made to the principal or treasurer (and not to the student) by post-office money-order, registered letter, or check. students are not allowed to retain firearms in their possession. the commandant of cadets will retain and give receipts for any brought. low or profane language will subject students to severe discipline. students are liable to reprimand, confinement, or other punishment. letter-writing is subject to regulation, and all mail- and express-packages are inspected and contents noted. students are urged to write their parents at least once a week. wardrobes and rooms of students are subject to inspection and regulation by proper officers at all times, and regular and thorough inspection of same are made from time to time. i was admitted in due course of time. i reached tuskegee on the th of september, , and after purchasing books, etc., my "cash assets," $ , were about exhausted. i could not enter as a day-school student, as i did not have the money to do so. in the night-school i found a chance which i gladly embraced. as i had desired, i was assigned to the wheelwright division for two years, signing a formal contract to that effect. i spent the whole of each day in the shop, attended industrial or theory classes two afternoons in each week, besides taking mechanical drawing (as all trades students are required to do), and attended evening classes. i applied myself as earnestly as i possibly could, and lost no time in getting right down to business. so well had i done that, that when a call reached the school during the spring of for a competent blacksmith, i was sent to do the work. i was excused from school on april th of that year and went to shorter's, ala., a settlement about eighteen miles from tuskegee. i remained there until october. [illustration: students at work in the harness-shop.] in a way, i regarded that period somewhat as a vacation period, as i did not lose much time from my classes. the surroundings were pleasant and profitable, and i had a chance to enter into the life of the people and help them a great deal. while there i earned enough money to send for my brother and enter him in tuskegee, that he might have the same chance i was enjoying to get an education. i wanted my brother to enter the blacksmith-shop, as i saw visions of a blacksmithing and wheelwrighting business to be owned and conducted by lomax brothers some time in the future. i also provided clothing out of what i had earned for both my brother and myself. at close of the school term in i was able to secure employment at uniontown, ala., with messrs. j. l. dykes and company, doing a general wheelwrighting and blacksmithing business--the largest business of its kind in the town. i remained at uniontown, working for the firm until october, when i again returned to tuskegee. the sum per day i received was a most flattering tribute to tuskegee's ability to take a stiff country lad like myself, and turn him, in a few months, into a workman commanding decent wages. what this means to the masses of the students who go to tuskegee the general public can have no idea. it is a great thing for a boy who never earned more than the merest pittance a day to go to a school where he can secure an education by working for it, and at the same time be fitted to earn wages, as many of them do, three and even five times as high as before going there. this accounts, in a large measure i am sure, for the fact that so large a number refuse to remain and go through the full courses of academic study. many of them, finding themselves able in a few months to earn sums far beyond any previous hope, decide to take advantage at once of this increased earning capacity; but since the work is so well graded, no boy can get his trade without getting, at the same time, academic instruction, and instruction in those character-forming things all about the student at tuskegee. i began the new term with $ , which sum was to my credit in the school treasury, having been earned by my labor. during the summer of i was again offered work at uniontown by messrs. j. l. dykes and company. i remained with them only two months, however. afterward i worked at the mckinley brothers' wagon factory at demopolis, ala.; as a journeyman workman at tuskegee, in the institute's wheelwrighting shop, and with the nack carriage company at mobile, ala., the largest shop of its kind in that city and one of the largest in the whole south, a firm doing strictly high-grade work. in all of these positions i have every reason to believe that i gave full and complete satisfaction. while with the last-named company i won the personal favor and interest of the manager and continued to study. he recommended that i add to my tuskegee training by taking the correspondence course of the technical school for carriage draftsmen and mechanics, new york. i remained with this firm until i was offered a position by mr. r. r. taylor, the present director of mechanical industries of the tuskegee institute, three years ago. i was greatly pleased and flattered when i was called to take charge of the division in which i had received my own instruction. since being at tuskegee i have continued to study, and am satisfied that i have well used my opportunities. this division over which i preside is located on the first floor of the trades building. it is well fitted for work in general wheelwrighting and repairing. included in the equipment are ten woodworkers' benches inches high, inches wide, and feet long. each bench is divided into two parts, making it possible for two persons to work at the same bench without interference. the benches have three drawers and one closet on each side, in which tools used by the students are kept. each pupil is provided with the following tools: one coach-maker's vise, one -inch no. cross-cut saw, one -inch back saw, one set of planes, one set of chisels, one set of auger-bits, one set of gimlet-bits, one ratchet-brace, one coach-maker's drawing-knife, one spoke-shave, one thumb-gauge, one try-square, one bevel, one hammer, and one mallet. other tools are kept in reserve by the instructor and are used only when needed. the division is constantly building new work, such as wagons, drays, horse- and hand-carts, wheelbarrows, buggies, and road-carts. the work of repairing vehicles and farm implements for the school, and a large amount of repairing for the locality, is done by my students. the course is as follows: _the first year._--care of shop, names and care of tools, general measurements; elementary work with saw, plane, drawing-knife, chisel, and spoke-shave; practise in the making and application of joints, i. e., splices, mortises, tenons, and miters; kinds of wood used and how to select; practise-work on parts of wagons and bodies; industrial classes and mechanical drawing during the year. _the second year._--pattern-making, working by patterns, practise-work on parts of wagons continued; making wheelbarrows and hand-carts, repairing wagons; practise in wheel-building; construction of wagons, carts, and drays; practise on parts of buggies and wagons; industrial classes and mechanical drawing during the year. _the third year._--building wheels; general repairs on buggies and wagons continued; practise-work on parts of buggies, phaetons, farm- and business-wagons; shop economics, estimates, bills of material; industrial classes and mechanical drawing during the year. the student in wheelwrighting receives instruction in wood-turning; the course is the same as that given to students in carpentry. i was married late last summer, , and am now living at tuskegee as a member of the faculty of the school i entered as a raw recruit. xiii the story of a blacksmith by jubie b. bragg both my mother and father were compelled to work in the field as farmers. they had four children, all now living, of whom i am the eldest. i was born in twiggs county, ga., february , , but in the family moved to macon, ga., where they lived until . the cruelest possible blow befell us when both mother and father died in april of that year, within ten days of each other. my parents were intelligent, and though they had had no opportunities for securing an education, yet they were able to teach their children the alphabet and how to spell a few simple words. my first lessons were in webster's blue-back speller, so when i started to school at six years of age i was not the dullest boy beginning at the same place, because of the instruction i had received. i first went to a miss mary tom, who taught in st. paul's church in east macon. i went there but one school session. i was next sent to a miss carr, who taught in the basement of the presbyterian church on washington avenue, west macon. to her, also, i only went one term. i was next started in lewis' high school, now known as ballard's normal school, but was soon compelled to cease going there because of the death of both parents, as already mentioned, in april of that same term. i was now but ten years of age. my aunt took charge of me and of the other children. i was immediately "hired out" to a family named horton, for my victuals and clothing. i worked for this family about six months, all of whom were kind to me, especially mr. horton, jr., who at this time had charge of an ice-house. each day i carried his meals to him and could confidently count upon receiving from him a nickel (five cents), which was forthwith invested in candy as i returned. it was a real pleasure to meet and make myself known to mr. horton, jr., the young man who had been so kind to me in birmingham, ala., in , after my graduation from tuskegee. he was apparently glad to see me, and especially to learn that i had been attending the tuskegee institute. after leaving the horton family i went to work in a grocery store, that of a mrs. machold, from whom i received $ a month for my services. i only remained with her a short while. the work i liked best of all, however, was that with the shoe firm of bearden and brantley. i had my sundays, and was off from work at six o'clock each week-day--a great change from my former employment. when i was twelve years of age i went to visit an uncle who lived in baldwin county, ga. i had gone to remain two weeks; as a matter of fact i was with him three years. i worked on the farm every day while with him, and went to school about two months each year. in this short time i was only able to review the lessons i had already had. after returning to macon, a number of young men who had been to tuskegee persuaded me to consider going there to school. the most strenuous opposition came from my own relatives. after many conversations about the matter i had finally to go against their will. they honestly felt that such reading and writing as i could do was quite enough education for me, or for any other negro boy. i reached the school, after being properly admitted, on the th of september, , and registered as a student in the night-school, as i had no money, and could pay in cash for no part of my expenses. i was assigned, after examination, to the a preparatory class. i was assigned work at the barns, fed cows, milked, and rendered such other service as was required by the instructor. soon after reaching tuskegee and after i had begun "working out" my expenses, i learned that the officers of the school were contemplating a new scheme whereby all of the students in the night-school would work one-half of each day, go to school one-half of each day, and pay $ a month in cash into the school treasury. mrs. washington, the "guardian angel" of the student body at tuskegee called me and several other students into conference and asked us to frankly state how the new schedule would affect us, what we thought of the plan, how much money we were able to pay, etc. out of the whole number only four declared they were able to pay the $ a month; the larger number, like myself, were utterly unable to pay anything in cash, being dependent absolutely upon our ability to cover our expenses by work in some of the industrial divisions. it was finally decided to forego this contemplated arrangement, and i, and the majority of others situated like myself, were made very happy. my whole future hinged on this decision, as i should have been compelled to leave school if it had been put in operation. i remained at the school during the summer of , the school very kindly arranging each summer to keep a large number of students and providing work for them. it was to me an advantage to remain. i had no money for railroad fare, and i was sure of securing a trade, wheelwrighting, at the beginning of the next term. i had desired to go into the blacksmith-shop, but it was so crowded that there was no reasonable assurance that i should be able to secure entrance thereto. at the beginning of the fall term, , i entered the wheelwright-shop, at the same time, of course, carrying my academic work; i had been successively each year promoted to the next higher class. i not only worked all of that school year in the wheelwrighting-shop, but remained the summer of . shortly after the new school year began, my instructor, mr. m. t. driver, was selected to take charge of the school's elaborate exhibit at the cotton states and international exposition, atlanta, ga., at the opening of which principal washington had spoken so effectively and powerfully for the negro people of the country. i had made such substantial progress that mr. j. h. washington, then serving as director of mechanical industries, notified me that i had been selected to manage the shop during mr. driver's six months' absence. i was not very much inclined to take the responsibility, but at tuskegee polite notification of selection to do a thing is a command. i accepted the work and did my very best. there were about twenty young men in the shop when i took charge, some older, some younger than i, but most of whom had been there longer than i had. i had no serious complaints as to the quality of work turned out by me during the instructor's absence. i now had to my credit more than enough money to carry me through the remaining two years. the next year i entered the day-school. i had become in most respects a new person. i had gone to tuskegee country-bred, raw, ignorant. the school's transforming influence i was able to note in my carriage, and, of course, in my conversation, in my care for neatness and order, and in the ideals i was forming and trying to live up to. during the summer i returned home for the first time. i worked at my trade during the vacation and earned enough money to buy clothing and other necessaries. i did not return to school until december , , as i needed the money i was earning at my trade. i had never earned in money more than the small amounts referred to in the first part of this paper, and so was delighted with my earning capacity. i then sought work in the blacksmithing-shop, the shop i had first desired to enter, so that i might become a first-class blacksmith in addition to having a working knowledge of wheelwrighting. after completing the school term i went to montgomery, ala., and worked as a wheelwright and blacksmith. this outside experience was most helpful to me. my last school year was that of - . i was very happy to receive, along with my academic diploma, a certificate also from the blacksmithing division. i was now fitted to begin my life in the great outside world. my first work was as instructor in blacksmithing and wheelwrighting in the hungerford industrial school at eatonville, fla. i then secured work at my trades in birmingham until august, , when three of us who had been classmates at tuskegee decided to form a partnership and conduct on a large scale a general blacksmithing and wheelwrighting business. i was deputed to select the place where we should locate. after interviewing a number of persons, anniston, ala., was suggested, and i decided to go there to personally investigate conditions. after getting there and going about the town, i agreed that at anniston we should find a place that would properly support our business. there was no place vacant that we could rent, so after some further consideration we decided to purchase a place. this we were fortunate enough to do, and came into possession of a building for our shop, by feet. we met all obligations after opening the shop and secured the most flattering support. our work met the most exacting requirements, and i was very much disinclined to accept an offer which reached me from mr. nathan b. young, who had had charge of the academic work at tuskegee during a part of my stay there. mr. young, however, represented that i could render much more effective racial service by reaching a large number of persons, young men, daily. after much hesitation i went to the florida state normal and industrial school, to which mr. young had been called as president, as instructor in blacksmithing and wheelwrighting, where i have since been employed. i have done well, and am proud that i can say so. of my stay at tuskegee, what shall i say? it was all in all to me. the lessons in shop and class-room, the lessons not at all catalogued that go into character-forming--all of these i found most helpful and invaluable, in making me a man who "thinks and feels." i should be tempted to eulogy should i try to tell how much i owe to dr. washington, to his teachers, and to all of the influences that assist the student at tuskegee. xiv a druggist's story by david l. johnston shortly after the smoke had cleared away from the battle-fields of the civil war, i was ushered into the world in a one-room log cabin in alabama, county of macon, and near the little town of tuskegee, afterward made famous by virtue of the fact that there was established near it, by booker t. washington, july , , the tuskegee normal and industrial institute. that i have the honor of being an alumnus of that school is one of the best things of which i can boast. because i have said that i was born in a one-room log cabin, the reader will readily imagine that my parentage was humble. my mother and father both have gone to the great beyond. i bless and revere their memory, for two more noble souls never lived, hampered as they were by slavery and its terrible environments. my parents continued to live in the one-room cabin until three other children, making nine in all, had come to them. another room was added about this time. the biting poverty of it all led my father, with his family, to move to one of the famous cotton plantations of dallas county, ala. i seem to recall taking an interest in the world about me quite early. especially do i recall, as one of my earliest recollections, the death of garfield, so cruelly slain by the madman guiteau. my father was greatly distressed, i remember, by his death. for five successive years my life was spent working each year on the farms for and with my aged father and other members of the family, and spending the time, when not so employed, in near-by public schools, which at that time, as is true in large part now, were conducted only about three months in each year. after having acquired a slight knowledge of mathematics, it was a great pleasure to me to go up each fall to the market at selma, ala., with my father, to dispose of the products of the farm. on one occasion there was an apparent interest manifested in me by one of the commission merchants, a white man. he persuaded me to return to selma, after i had accompanied my father home, and to accept a position with him as office-boy. i returned as agreed, to find either that his promise was a stroke to induce my father to trade with him, or that my stay at home had been too extended--although it was only for three or four days. the position, meanwhile, he said, had been filled by another. thus, i found myself, a raw country lad, twenty-seven miles from home, without employment and among strangers. next morning, without the knowledge of my parents, i applied for admittance as a student to the knox academy at selma, and without recommendations, which were immediately demanded of me. i was turned away, but not discouraged, for the next morning, accompanied by a white friend of my father, i again applied and was admitted on his recommendation. an examination entitled me to begin with the fifth-grade class. i also secured employment at this white man's home. the money thus received paid for my board. by doing odd jobs i managed to make sufficient money to pay for lodging with a good family. i was thus enabled to spend the fall of and the spring of in school, to my very great benefit. i was compelled to return home, however, before the term ended, because my father's health completely failed him, to take charge of the farm, as i was the senior male child in the family at that time. my juvenile mind had been awakened by this short school experience in selma, and from that time forth i had a thirst for more knowledge. i was absorbed by this longing, but i took up the various other duties which fell to my lot, with the earnest purpose of doing my very best. as a result, with the aid of other members of the family i succeeded in turning over to my invalid father, the succeeding fall, eleven bales of cotton and other farm products in like proportion. my father's health having completely failed, and because of a constantly increasing desire for more knowledge, i conceived the idea of returning to our old home near tuskegee again. january, , found us again living in close proximity to the old log cabin in which i was born. not four years before the tuskegee normal and industrial institute had been established. the height of my ambition was to be enrolled as a student there, but not having sufficient money to care for the family and remain in school at the same time, and since the term for that year was half spent, i sought employment for the remaining winter months, doing such odd jobs in and around the little town as i could find to do. when spring came, having a fair knowledge of farming, i found ready employment with the planters of that community. with an ambition to enter school the coming fall, i then and there began to study every possible method of economy, and when summer had passed and school-time had come again, with the aid of a younger brother i had cared for the family, and had to my credit my first savings of $ . now began the most memorable and the most pleasant days in my life. on the th day of september, , i matriculated as a student at tuskegee, and, after what was then considered a rigid examination, succeeded in entering the junior class, the lowest class of the normal grade. there was yet before me the task of caring for an aged father and mother. that task i considered a sacred duty, and, with my limited savings in hand, made such purchases as would best give them ordinary comforts through the winter months, and on the d day of the same month, after having made such expenditures as i thought necessary, i found that my little pile had been reduced from $ to $ . , with which sum i paid my tuition and board at the normal school. i was permitted by the school authorities to work on the school farm the entire term. on the th day of may, when the school closed, there yet remained to my credit a sufficient amount to purchase a ticket to birmingham, and thence out to pratt city, a near-by suburb. at pratt city i learned to dig coal, and at the end of every month they paid me in gold. these shining pieces were precious possessions. for four successive summers, in order to get sufficient money to care for my mother and father and make my way in school, i went to pratt city and worked in the mines, at the furnaces, on the railroads, and around the coke-ovens, enduring hardships which language can hardly describe. but it all paid. the summer of was a trying one, but when the time came for me to leave for school i had saved $ . on the th day of may, , a new epoch in my life began. i was ushered into the busy world as a graduate of tuskegee, being in a class of twenty-two. i had looked forward to this event with pride and was very happy. so imbued was i with the pleasant thought that i was a graduate of tuskegee, that i little thought of the great responsibilities that awaited me, but when my more sober thought came i realized that i was going from most pleasant surroundings not to return the next year; that i was going out not to return and meet indulgent and persuasive teachers, loving classmates, and devoted friends. i then realized the full meaning of the phrase we had selected that year as our class motto, "finished, yet just begun." finished i had at tuskegee, but i had to begin work and life in the great busy world, with confidence alone as an asset. the commencement exercises on this particular occasion were most impressive to me, made so in part, i suspect, because i was to be the happy recipient of a coveted diploma. the commencement speaker was the late joseph c. price,[ ] of north carolina, and he was at his best. knowing no other field more inviting, i returned to pratt city, where i had worked successfully. on the th of june, , i alighted from the cars, and after spending a few days visiting relatives and friends, applied at no. four ( ) slope for a set of checks to dig coal. the checks were readily given me because of my previous record as a miner. after working there during the summer months, and with the same success as had attended me previously, i had secured sufficient money to straighten out my little financial affairs and move my parents and a widowed sister with six small children from tuskegee to pratt city, where i had decided permanently to live. about this time pratt city was made, by act of the alabama legislature, a separate and independent school district, and i had the honor of being elected to the principalship of the negro school. there i had my first experience as a teacher. i put my whole soul into the work. i had before me the example of the tuskegee teachers, and the lessons so thoroughly taught there. that i must serve my fellows earnestly and unselfishly was never forgotten. so pleased was the board of education with my work that my salary was soon advanced to $ per month. this salary was somewhat extraordinary, but pratt city, birmingham, ensley, etc., are in one of the richest mining sections in the world, and the money earned by blacks and whites is greatly in excess of that earned in other parts of the state. i held this position for four years, teaching eight and nine months in the year, and spending the remaining three or four months of the time working in the mines. after a time my physical system had begun so completely to run down, that i was reluctantly compelled to resign the position of teacher. in the meantime i had purchased a home at pratt city. leaving my parents there, i went to milldale, ala., to take up new work that offered a change of climate. i returned every fifteen or thirty days, however, to look after the needs of my parents. the entire expense of caring for them, my sister and her children, was quite $ a month. my work at milldale made good returns. i was with the standard coal company, and after i had been there fifteen months i had to my credit $ , , an amount i had long striven to save. during this time my mother was stricken with fever, and after lingering three months (one of which i spent at her bedside) she died. our little home was cast in deep sorrow. i returned to milldale and resumed work there. after two years had expired i had to my credit, i am glad to say, $ , . with this sum in hand i concluded i would take a course in pharmacy. on october , , i entered the meharry medical college at nashville, tenn., the dean of which is that prince of gentlemen and father of negro physicians, dr. george w. hubbard. i completed the course february , , graduating at the head of the class with a general average of - / per cent. i had pleasant associations while there with many of my former tuskegee class- and school-mates, among them being dr. a. h. kenniebrew, now of jacksonville, ill., and for a while resident physician of the tuskegee institute; dr. t. n. harris, of mobile, ala., and dr. a. t. braxton, of columbia, tenn. each of these is succeeding at the places named most satisfactorily as physicians. at meharry it was our constant pleasure to refer to our training at tuskegee, and to acknowledge how indelibly the lessons learned there had been stamped upon our minds and hearts. while there i had the opportunity to compare the instruction received at tuskegee--that of the academic department--with that of the other institutions of learning in this and even other countries. at meharry one is thrown in direct contact with educated men and women from the leading negro colleges of this country, and with many from english institutions of note. after careful investigation i found that the tuskegee-trained student, at all times, was among the very best there. at tuskegee i still consider that one of the greatest lessons taught is that of "learning to learn." [illustration: at the hospital. a corner in the boys' ward.] at the close of my first year at meharry i returned to birmingham, and after a conference with drs. a. m. brown and j. b. kye, colored graduates in medicine and pharmacy, and mr. george f. martin, we decided to open a drug-store to be located in birmingham. about may , , the doors of the people's drug company were opened to the public, with the above-named gentlemen and myself as the stockholders and owners. here i invested my first money of consequence in a business enterprise, putting in the greater part of the money to open the business, which invoiced $ , or more in about five months after the opening. after affairs were in good running order i left, and returned to milldale to resume work with the standard coal company. during the spring and summer of that year i realized about $ from my mining operations. in the fall of i returned to meharry to complete the course already begun. during that fall and winter the business was encouragingly successful under the management of dr. kye, aided by drs. brown and mason; for about that time dr. u. g. mason, another colored physician, had bought mr. martin's interest in the company and had become a partner in the concern. my instructions to the management were to turn over to my father my share of the net proceeds of the business while i was away. my share of the profits kept the family going. my stay at meharry this last term was most pleasant. i had been promoted to the dignified position of assistant to dr. w. m. savier, who was, and is, dean of the pharmaceutical department of the institution. when i had completed my course i returned to alabama to begin my work as a pharmacist, and about april , , successfully passed the required state examination and was admitted to the practise of pharmacy. i took the examination in selma, the beautiful little city on the alabama river where, thirteen years before, i had had my desire for knowledge and better opportunities awakened. i sold my interest in the people's drug company at a sacrifice, and immediately opened business on "my own hook" at south twentieth street, birmingham, ala. in order to begin business with some assurance of success, i organized another company, and had associated with me in this new enterprise (the union drug company) rev. t. w. walker, rev. j. q. a. wilhite, and mr. c. l. montgomery--all responsible and enterprising citizens of birmingham. by hard and diligent work the business proved a success, and from time to time i bought out the interests of the persons named, and accepted as a partner a well-known physician and surgeon, dr. george h. wilkerson. dr. wilkerson's connection with the business caused it rapidly to increase in volume. when more help was required, as soon it was, we secured the services of mr. jimmie james, a young pharmacist who is with me until now. after a period of pleasant business association, dr. wilkerson's interests in mobile, his former home, demanded his presence there. i purchased his interest in the union drug company, and the name was changed to the union drug store. we had but recently located in our own neat little quarters at no. south twentieth street, a one-story brick structure, at which place i continued to do business, supported by drs. w. l. council and j. b. goin, who sent their prescriptions to my store, until february , . in january, , i secured a lot at no. south eighteenth street, birmingham, and personally erected there a two-story frame building, which i now occupy. during my short business career since graduation from the medical school, i sought out a partner for life, and was fortunate to win the hand of miss pearl l. strawbridge, of selma, ala., who had come to birmingham to make her home with her brother, mr. h. strawbridge, who now holds the honored position of secretary and general manager of one of the largest fraternal insurance concerns in the country owned and controlled by negroes. two children, a girl and a boy, have been added to our family since the marriage. whatever i have done, or whatever i may do, that will deserve favorable comment, i largely attribute to the fact that i was a student at tuskegee, and came under the personal care and instruction and guidance of its distinguished founder and principal, dr. booker t. washington, and that i have striven, from the first day until now, to put into practise the lessons taught me by him and his excellent body of teachers. at tuskegee we were taught the truism, "if you can not find a way, make one." i hope i am not immodest in saying that i think i have, in some degree, done this. [ ] said to be one of the most eloquent speakers of the negro people. he died in the prime of life. he was president of livingston college, which is mainly supported by the african methodist episcopal zion church, and has a large membership among the colored people. xv the story of a supervisor of mechanical industries by james m. canty i was born december , , in marietta, cobb county, ga. my parents, james and adella canty, were slaves. i am the eldest of two brothers and three sisters, who are all living. my father died in the fall of . since that time, because of circumstances and inclinations, it has been my lot to look after the welfare of my mother, who is still living in marietta, ga., a place of about four thousand inhabitants. at an early age i entered the public school at my home. my father, however, soon put me to work, so that i grew up quite ignorant of books. he was a carpenter and butcher, and fairly skilled in working iron. for a number of years he kept a meat-market. at the age of sixteen i was doing the principal part of the butchering. some years later, when father was appointed street "boss" of the town, i worked as one of the street laborers. when he changed his occupation from street "boss" to farmer, mine likewise changed. the rule was, a change from one occupation to another, working day by day without attention to mental growth, and having no thought of the future, till i was persuaded to join several other boys who had decided to form themselves into a night-class for purposes of self-improvement. about this time, in compliance with my father's desire, and to my delight, i entered a carriage factory as an apprentice. it was while working there that i received a newspaper from a girl student at tuskegee normal and industrial institute. the paper contained a long descriptive article, with cuts of buildings, class-rooms, teachers, and students. the student who had sent the paper was from my home, and with it came a letter from her stating that she had spoken to mr. washington in my interest, and that if i would come to tuskegee i would be given a chance to get an education. i shall never forget the impression made upon my mind by that newspaper article and the young woman's letter. [illustration: in the tin-shop.] my father was consulted, and advised against my going away to school, saying: "you can continue night-school here at home and at the same time learn a trade. i never went to school a day in my life." well, i knew that my father, nevertheless, could read and write a little and do some figuring, and that he at one time came within a few votes of being elected to the state legislature of georgia. contrary to his advice, i concluded to go to tuskegee. looking back now, and connecting the present with the day on which my decision was made, i think that time and events have vindicated the wisdom of my decision. after giving my employer two weeks' notice of my intention to give up my work, i hastened to arrange my affairs, fearing that procrastination might allow some event to change my mind and thus alter the whole course of my life. two weeks after giving notice to my employer, i started for tuskegee. i bought a ticket to atlanta, where i spent the night. the next morning i went to the station and asked for a ticket to tuskegee. the agent, on looking over his guide-books, said to me: "there is no such place as tuskegee in the guide-books." i walked away from the window, thinking that, after all, tuskegee was some place that existed only on paper. not wishing to give it up, i turned and approached the agent again. he got out maps and guides, and finally found tuskegee, but said he could not sell me a ticket to that place as it was not on a railroad, and that the best thing for me to do was to purchase a ticket to chehaw, ala. so my ticket read, from atlanta to chehaw. on turning to leave the ticket-agent, i inquired how i could get to tuskegee from chehaw. he replied that he did not know. but i got there, going from chehaw over a narrow-gauge road. the engine that pulled the one coach composing the train was named the "klu-klux," a thing i had heard of but had not understood. that there should be many new things to me in the world was not to be wondered at, when it was known that i had never before been out of the county in which i was born except on three occasions, when my trips extended only to adjoining counties. it was in the month of march, , while passing through the town of tuskegee, that i beheld for the first time, standing at a distance, the institution that has, in my opinion, done more than any other one agency to elevate the negroes of the south. about eight o'clock p. m. i arrived on the campus and was assigned to a room by the commandant, through the officer of the day.[ ] for about thirty minutes i was alone in the room, the student body being at devotional exercises--the tuskegee institute holding its daily devotions at night, instead of in the morning like most schools. this is done on account of the day- and night-school system, it being impossible to get all the students of the school together except at night after the night-school session. while sitting and thinking of home, of the past, and of the future, i took out my pocketbook and counted $ . . not one cent more had i, and as i looked at the money with the thought that $ . represented the entire savings of my life up to that time, gloom and despondency almost overcame me. the next morning i went to the principal's office. from there i went to be examined, and then again to see the principal. mr. washington explained that board was charged for at $ per month, and that my books would be sold to me at cost. he informed me further that if i entered night-school i would be able to work out my board and accumulate each month a balance to be used in paying my expenses when i entered day-school. i was made to understand that this offer was on condition that my work and conduct be in every way satisfactory. as the amount of money i had did not justify me in entering day-school, i matriculated as a night-school student. the blacksmith-shop being short of students, i was assigned to this division of industry. during the remaining part of the year, and the following summer, i worked in the shop ten hours each day, except sundays, and devoted about two hours and a half at night to study and recitations. it is no easy task, during warm weather in alabama, for one to work ten hours a day and spend two and a half hours at night studying in a room lighted by several large lamps suspended from the ceiling. yet this is what hundreds of poor boys and girls have done at tuskegee. hundreds still attend the night-school, but electric lights have taken the place of the large oil-lamps. tuskegee is now more modern than it was when i was a student there. barrels and boxes are no longer used in the raw state for furniture, as was largely the case at that time. day-students were required to work one school-day each week and every other saturday. i was a student nearly five years, counting the time when i was a night-student. after i entered day-school it was necessary that i should work not only on my regular work-days and two saturdays each month, but whenever there was work to be done and i could find time in which to do it. during my entire life at tuskegee i worked every saturday except three. i was not long at tuskegee before an indescribable force began to have its influence upon me. whatever this power may be called, it was both refining and energizing. people who know the school and have been there and know of its influence, call this force "the tuskegee spirit." this spirit, to the student possessing a spark of manhood, is irresistible. the change in a student at tuskegee is not sudden, nor is it wrought by any one element. things that may seem small when taken separately, are invaluable when considered in the aggregate. at tuskegee one's attention is constantly called to little things. it was a habit of mine, i regret to say, to give little or no thought to my hat being on my head when i was in any of the boys' dormitories, or when passing through the halls of the buildings containing the class-rooms. my attention was finally called to this habit by one of the lady teachers. passing me one day in the hall, she said: "canty, you have a habit of wearing your hat through the halls. it is a very bad habit." when i entered tuskegee i had not worn a night-shirt since i was a child. here it was soon impressed upon me that sleeping in a night-shirt was a sign of cleanliness, of civilization. if there is any place where cleanliness is regarded and practised as one of god's first laws, that place is tuskegee. one day mr. washington sent for me to come to his office. i received the message with fear and trembling. i had, before this time, had but one opportunity to speak to mr. washington, and then only for a few minutes upon the day following my arrival. on my way to the office i wondered if any rule of the institution had been violated by me. though i had been there only three or four weeks, i knew a request for a student to report at the principal's office meant that he was to be given notice of imminent punishment, or consulted upon some matter of vital interest. when i entered the office, mr. washington asked me to write to two or three worthy young men at my home and inquire if they desired a chance to work their way through school. several days had passed when i received an answer from one of the young men to whom i wrote. it so happened that on the day the letter was received i met mr. washington on his way to his office, and said, "mr. washington [drawing the letter from my pocket], i have received a letter from--" here my first sentence was cut short by mr. washington forcibly gesticulating and saying, "come to the office; come to the office and see me there." that one lecture on business methods impressed me in a way that a chapter of this length could not have done. one day i closed a door with considerable force, which attracted the attention of one of the teachers. the teacher, in my presence, again opened the door and gently closed it, noiselessly and without a word. i have never since forgotten the proper way in which to open and close doors. little details are big essentials in the rounding out of character. they show the influence of the "tuskegee spirit." but, after all, this spirit would not be so irresistible in its influence for good if the teachers and officers of the institution were not the embodiment and living example of it. here, as elsewhere and everywhere, example is more potent than precept. every institution has policies peculiarly its own. it is necessary that every teacher and officer support that policy to make it effective. each instructor has a distinct individuality that becomes a part of the student, in smaller or greater degree, and at the same time gives force and strength to the policies of the institution. though i felt the influence of every one of the thirty-odd teachers then at tuskegee, the individuality of some of these made a very great impression on me. i remember mr. w. d. wilson as a very quiet and effective disciplinarian. mr. warren logan, the treasurer, has the ability to teach the student the value of a dollar by making him sacrifice almost beyond the point of endurance. at the same time, with a smile and a cheerful disposition, he would make the student feel that his burden was light. through the kindness and special interest manifested in me by mr. m. t. driver, who was in charge of wheelwrighting and blacksmithing, i made rapid progress at my trade. miss adella h. hunt, who has since become the wife of treasurer logan, was then a teacher who had the faculty of touching a responsive chord in a student. mrs. booker t. washington, then miss margaret j. murray, impressed me very much. strong and resourceful in dealing with students, she always won the best that was in them. my student-days were almost at an end when she came to tuskegee. [illustration: students canning fruit.] i shall ever feel grateful to mr. j. h. washington for the encouragement he gave me. being superintendent of industries, he was then, as he is now, in constant touch with every male student. he is a believer in, and a firm advocate of, steady, thorough, earnest work, and is quick to see, appreciate, and encourage the smallest degree of ability shown by any student. no time seemed too valuable for him to give in trying to advance a student in his work. i might add here that the teachers here named are, with two exceptions, among the pioneers in the building of the school. mr. booker t. washington's personality is the great thing at tuskegee, and every student who goes there feels the strength of the man's rugged individuality. "mr. b. t." is an affectionate term used by the students, but it springs from an indescribable, spontaneous feeling of love and veneration. his sunday evening talks to the students are to me like the book of proverbs, always timely, encouraging, and applicable to the affairs of every-day life. it is from these family talks that the students learn, as they never have before, the beauty that lies in real, every-day christianity, and in living a real and simple life. it is from these talks that the students learn so much of the great heart and center of the institution. mr. washington still delivers sunday evening talks when at school, and they are published in the school's weekly paper, the tuskegee student. graduates throughout the country eagerly read these talks with the same interest and pleasure with which they listened to them while in school. mr. washington taught then, as he teaches now, psychology to the senior class. the student has not become intimately acquainted with mr. washington until he becomes a senior. it is here that the members of the senior class talk of their past and future lives and receive the outpourings of a great but simple soul. mr. washington's long and frequent absences from the school are no less regretted by the teachers than by the students. soon after entering school i began to think of what i should do after graduating. my inclination led me to feel that success would be found along mercantile lines. in spite of this i applied myself zealously to my trade. during my last two years in school i did what teaching in blacksmithing my literary work permitted, the school being without an instructor in this industry for a short while. there was then no course in engineering or in machinery, so i did all the pipe-work and kept the machinery of the school in repair. in this way i learned something of machinery without an instructor. with some pride i recall the fact that i "ironed" the first farm-wagons, the first two-seated spring-wagon, and the first buggy made at tuskegee. i also "piped" the school's first bathroom for girls. in may of my senior year i was very much surprised to receive a note from principal booker t. washington intimating that he desired me to connect myself with the school the following year. later he stated the nature of the work he wanted me to do. i accepted the offer he made me. i was asked to teach in the night-school and instruct in the blacksmith-shop one-half of each week-day. a few days after graduation i visited my home with the intention of spending the summer there. i was there about three weeks, when i received a letter from mr. john h. washington requesting my return to tuskegee the next week, if i could so arrange. he at that time was both superintendent of industries and commandant. on my return he informed me that the principal had decided that since his duties as superintendent of industries were so important, he was to be relieved of all others, and that in lieu of instructing in the blacksmith-shop, i was to be offered the work as commandant. at once i set about getting the boys' rooms in order for the opening of school. during the two previous years, even while a student, i had virtually been acting as commandant, since no one man could carry double responsibilities such as mr. j. h. washington had been carrying. i was appointed commandant, and placed in charge of the night-school for a year. i then resigned, looking forward to following my old-time inclination of engaging in some mercantile business. i knew that i could accumulate means for this purpose sooner by working at my trade, as i received two dollars per day working as a blacksmith during vacation seasons at birmingham, ala. my first marriage occurred in , my wife being miss sarah j. harris. we were classmates at tuskegee four years, and graduated together. she died in at institute, w. va. our long association and acquaintance made us understand each other even before we were married. having become a christian before myself, she had much to do with my conversion while i was a student. she was a great help to me in many ways, and through her economy i was able to begin the purchase of my first property. portia, the oldest and only child now living of the three children born to us, is in the little girls' home at knoxville college, tenn. in i was married to miss florence lovett, a graduate of storer college, harpers ferry, w. va. she shares my burdens, and is in every way a part of whatever success i am able to achieve. four children have been born to us. after resigning my position as commandant and head of the night-school at tuskegee, i spent a few weeks visiting relatives, and then returned to marietta. here i worked at my trade in a carriage-shop, where a great deal of machine-work was done for two furniture factories and a planing-mill. much of my time was spent in repairing machinery and making bits and knives for the factories. while at home i tried to make myself a part of the people in a helpful way. i lived with my parents about two miles from the town. on my father's farm was a church, the ground for which had been given by my father. i was elected superintendent of the sunday-school of this church, and filled this position as long as i remained there. soon after the sunday-school was started it occurred to me that the young people of the community could be greatly helped by a literary society. with the aid of others i organized a society and was elected its president. we met every friday night at the house of some member. it was the custom to meet at different places, so that the long distances necessary to walk would be equally shared by all. even by this arrangement some had to walk three and four miles, but the pleasure and benefit derived from attending the society repaid us for the trouble. after i had been at my home about a year, i received a letter from mr. booker t. washington requesting that i write to mr. j. edwin campbell, principal of the west virginia colored institute, then located near farm, w. va. enclosed with mr. washington's letter was one mr. campbell had written, asking that a tuskegee graduate be named to take the position of superintendent of mechanics. this title has since been changed to superintendent of mechanical industries. on january , , i arrived at the west virginia colored institute and entered upon my duties, and have held the position ever since. [illustration: starting a new building. student masons laying the foundation in brick.] in the early summer of mr. j. h. hill, who was then principal, resigned to accept a lieutenancy in a company of united states volunteers. during the interim following the resignation of mr. hill and the appointment of mr. j. mchenry jones, the present principal, i was placed in charge of the school by the board of regents. mr. jones was elected principal september , . until the fall of my duties were many and varied, as i had no assistance in carrying on the industrial work of the school. i taught blacksmithing, carpentering, and mechanical drawing. besides this, i have had to put the sewerage system into the institution, and the heating apparatus into several of the school buildings. still, a part of my time in was devoted to teaching in the literary department. my work now, while as exacting as ever, is more along the line of superintending the mechanical industries and in teaching mechanical drawing. the school has grown, since my coming here, from teachers and students to a faculty of teachers and students. there are instructors in the mechanical department for boys. we give instruction in carpentry, printing, blacksmithing, brick masonry, plastering, wheelwrighting, and mechanical drawing. these industries are housed in a building--the "a. b. white trades building"--that cost $ , . in concluding this sketch, i repeat with emphasis what i said in the beginning: whatever my accomplishments may be, the credit is due to tuskegee. i do not wish in life to be regarded as a man of chance possibilities, but rather as one who has consistently persevered in all of his struggles. tuskegee teaches nothing with greater force than that success lies in that direction. principal washington, among other things, has taught that it is necessary to get property and have a bank-account. i have complied with that teaching. i own a farm of acres within one-eighth of a mile of the school. my first property, which i still own, consists of a one-acre lot and a seven-room house. it gives me pleasure to contribute annually $ to tuskegee, although this but inadequately expresses my gratitude to the institution to which i owe so much. [ ] the west point system is followed in training the young men. except that there are no guns, a complete battalion organization exists. xvi a negro community builder by russell c. calhoun i have been asked to here set forth incidents of my life as i remember them, especially as they relate to my life at tuskegee and my work since leaving there. though there have been quite a number of events in my life, it is somewhat difficult for me to give them in the way they are now desired, as it never occurred to me that they would be worth repeating. concerning my ancestry, it is impossible for me to give anything beyond my maternal grandfather, who was about three-fourths indian. my recollections of him go back to the time when i was about six or seven years of age. my mother, having more children than she could really care for, decided to allow one of my brothers, who was perhaps a year and a half younger than i, and myself, to live with him and his second wife. my grandfather was quite seventy-five years of age when we went to live with him, and was too feeble to work. he was supported from the poor-house, which gave him a peck of meal, - / pounds of bacon, pound of coffee, pound of brown sugar, and once a month cents' worth of flour. that, together with the little his wife could earn from place to place, constituted the "rations" of all of us for a week. of my birth no record was kept, my mother having been a slave. all i have been able to learn of the date of my birth is what my mother remembers connected with the close of slavery. in trying to ascertain from her when i was born, she said, "you was born some time just after christmas, in the month of january, the third year after the surrender." my mother had twelve children. i was the eighth child and the second one born after slavery. all except two of the children were born in the same one-room log cabin with a dirt floor, in the town of paulding, jasper county, miss. my mother did the cooking for her master's family and the plantation help, did all of the milking, and was also washer-woman. in the summer of i again visited paulding, just after graduating from tuskegee. i had to go there to move my aged mother to more comfortable quarters. she was quite ill, and died soon after i reached florida with her. when i went to paulding i measured the house in which i was born, and found it to be feet wide, feet long, feet high, with no windows, with but one door, and a dirt chimney. the furnishing as i remember it was composed of a chair, a stool, a table, and my mother's bed, which was constructed in one corner of the house. the bed was made by putting a post in the ground and nailing two pieces of wood to the wall from this post, then by putting in a floor, making something like a box to hold the bedding. the children slept in a similarly constructed place, except that the mattress was on the ground and was filled with straw. our bedding, for the most part, was what wearing apparel we possessed thrown over us at night. outside the house was a long bench, which was kept for the accommodation of visitors. a peculiar incident in our home life happened one sunday morning in march--one easter sunday. all of the smaller children were seated on the floor eating their breakfasts from pans and skillets, when a big black snake, without any regard for the children, went into a hole by the fireplace. when one of my older brothers undertook to find him and opened this hole, he found, instead of one, four black snakes that had been wintering in the side of the house. there was no church or school for us in that whole section. a white man, a doctor cotton, to whom i was afterward given until i should become twenty-one years of age, sent his boys to a school which required that they walk eight miles to it and return each day. when i was perhaps eight years of age i remember that my mother and all of the children went to spring hill to a camp-meeting; that was the first service at which i had heard a minister. they had a sunday-school, and i was put into a class. the teacher gave us leaflets and asked us to read where we found the big letter "a." this was the first and only letter that i knew for many years. this camp-meeting was held once a year, though at times there would be prayer-meetings among the different families on the plantation. my mother, being a hard-working woman and knowing the value of keeping children busy, compelled every one of us to work in some way around the house or on the farm. i know of no lesson which she taught me and which has been of more value to me than that of "doing with your might what your hands find to do." it was a rule of her household that we should not go to bed without having water in the house. the water had to be brought from a spring a mile and a half away. i remember clearly how one night one of my brothers and myself tried to deceive her; how we secured some not overclear water from a hole near-by our home, and how she pitched it out and sent us the whole distance to the spring. although this was many years ago, i now see, more and more, what it means to go all the way to the real spring, and i thank her memory for the lesson. when i was about ten years of age the same doctor cotton of whom i have spoken came to my grandmother's to hire one of the boys to mind the bars, as the teams were hauling corn to the barn and the drivers did not want to put them up each time. i was delighted to be the chosen one of the two. my first chance to earn money was thus offered. i stayed there every day from sunrise to sunset for a little more than three weeks, and it was a happy day when doctor cotton requested all hands to come up and be paid off. i do not know what the rest received; though i had boarded from the scanty fare before mentioned at my grandmother's home, he gave me fifteen cents, paying me in three nickels. i had never had any money in my hands before, and for fear i might lose it i put it in my pocket and held the pocket with both hands, and ran for more than two miles, carrying it home. one nickel of the three was given me for my share. seemingly this doctor cotton was very much impressed with the way i had performed my duty at the bars, for in the next few weeks he again visited my grandmother. i was quite anxious to know what his frequent visits meant, and was very much delighted, as well as surprised, when it was told me, one morning when it was very cold, and i had on only two pieces of clothing made of some very coarse material resembling canvas, that i was to live with doctor cotton until reaching manhood, and was to eat at his house. he told me in my grandmother's presence that if i would stay with him until i was twenty-one years of age i would receive a horse, a bridle and saddle, a suit of clothes, and $ , in addition to my "keep." this was such an apparently big offer that my grandmother's and my heart leaped for joy. when i had lived with him for a few days he had given me the first pair of shoes, of the copper-toe variety, i ever wore. i have never forgotten my first day's stay at this new home. my whole object that first day was to eat everything in sight. at my own home i slept on the dirt floor; at this new home i slept in the attic, my bed being a pile of cotton-seed with a quilt for covering. my duty at this new home was to attend to the horses, to bring the cows from the pasture, sweep the yard, wait on the table, nurse two children, etc. i stayed at this place for two and one-half years, and as my knowledge of things increased my duties became more and more exacting. during this whole time, and for two years before, i had not seen or heard from my mother. i was twenty miles from any railroad, and had never seen or heard of a railroad train. we lived on the public road between paulding and enterprise, and by some means i heard that my mother had gone to the "railroad." though i had never been away on my own resources, i resolved to do better than i was doing. i remember very well that it was monday morning when one of the doctor's daughters said to me, "russell, you go down to 'vina's house, tell her to come and scour for me; come by the store and get a package of soda; then come through the field and drive the turkeys home." providence never favored any one more than it did me on that day. i went by the store and told them to do up the soda, i went by and told 'vina that she was wanted, but i did not drive the turkeys home. i started out in search of my mother, and after walking more than half the distance i overtook an ox-team, and the driver allowed me to ride a part of the way. i reached the railroad town about night, and standing there was a freight train of the mobile and ohio railroad. i was never so frightened in all my life as when the whistle blew and this object moved away. i remember asking the driver of the ox-team where the thing's eyes were, and where the horses were that pulled it. the doctor, suspecting that i had gone to enterprise in search of my mother, made plans to capture me and have me returned, but all of this failed. by good fortune i found my brother, who was married and living in this town; here again i became a nurse, having to care for his two children. afterward i went to live with a white family which was very kind to me. the young man who carried me to his house as a nurse put into my hands, after i had been there some months, the first spelling-book i had ever had; saying to me that if i would stay with them for two years, he would at the end of that time send me to school. i stayed at this place for some months, when my mother came from somewhere, i know not where, and with five of the boys we joined ourselves together to work on a plantation on "halves." we worked very hard that year. our food was furnished by the owner of the plantation. on many of those long, cold days, for all day, we had only a "pone" of corn bread. at the close of the year, after the owner had taken his half, and on account of bad management on the part of an older brother who had charge of affairs, my mother and her younger children received nothing for the year's work, and this, notwithstanding the fact that we made five and one-half bales of cotton and a large quantity of corn and peas. i received as my "salary" for the year's work one shirt worth thirty cents and a pair of suspenders worth about fifteen cents. i resolved to run away again. this trip was made at night, on foot, over newly laid railroad-ties, for a distance of seventeen miles. i reached meridian, miss., at a late hour of the night, and took refuge in a shed used for the storing of railroad iron. the next morning i overheard two colored men, who were on their way to get meat ready for the town-market two miles away, talking. i joined these men, and sought employment along with them, but they soon learned that i knew nothing of "butchering." however, the owner of the pen, who had a large garden, gave me a trial, and i remained with him for three years. after i was there a little more than a year my work was to plant and care for the small seeds. this man, mr. nady sims, was a good man, and i had no cause for leaving him except that of wishing to get a place to earn more money, that i might help care for my mother and her smaller children. i went next to a brick-yard, where i received fifty cents per day. there were three boys at each "table," and we had to "off-bear" , bricks, the task for each day. this was indeed hard work. drifting into hotel work, i soon acquired the habit of most of those who are engaged in such work: i spent all i earned for fine clothes. during my stay on the vegetable farm i boarded at the home of one of the young men previously referred to, whose sister, mary clinton, who has since become my wife and devoted assistant, one day heard a woman say she knew of a school in alabama where boys and girls could work for their education, and that she was going to send her boy to that school. this thought remained in her mind for some months, and she decided to go to tuskegee, though her brothers and sisters discouraged the idea, feeling, as they said, that if she went to this unknown place her whole life would be a failure. she reached tuskegee in september, , at a time when there was but one building. she worked in many places while there, including the laundry, the teachers' dining-room, the sewing division, with principal washington's family, as well as with the families of other teachers. on account of poor health, especially because of throat trouble, she was compelled to return home at the end of five years without graduating. no sooner had she reached home again than she began a crusade for tuskegee. i was then twenty-one years of age, had never had a day's schooling, and could read but very little. i proposed marriage to miss clinton as soon as she returned, but she replied: "you do not know anything except about hotel work. i have been to tuskegee and see the need of your knowing something. i also need to know more than i do. i can easily marry some one who knows more than you do, but if you will go to school i will assist you in any way that i can." this proposition i accepted, and on september , , i reached tuskegee and began my first day in school. i had some knowledge of carpentry, and was for that reason assigned to the carpenter-shop for work during the day; i attended school at night. there were ninety-three young men and women in the class when i entered school; of that number only two, in addition to myself, remained through the entire course. i can never forget my examination by miss maggie j. murray, now mrs. booker t. washington. there were quite three hundred new students in the chapel of porter hall, one of the oldest buildings of the institution, taking examinations at the same time. she gave me two slips of paper, a pencil, and the questions, and said to me: "write the answers to these questions." she went about other duties, and after about three hours returned to me for my papers; then for the first time in my life i learned the meaning of geography and arithmetic. the slips of paper mentioned asked questions on those subjects. i had not put anything on the paper. she asked me if i knew of any large cities; if i had ever crossed a river or seen a hill; if i knew the name of the railroad over which i had come to reach tuskegee. i was able to answer each of these questions very readily; and she said, "calhoun, that is geography." she assigned me to one of the lowest classes in the night-school. i bought books which cost $ . , and had fifty-two cents left. i soon spent the fifty cents. for seven months during my first year's stay my only possession was represented by a two-cent stamp. i had had many "good friends" before going to tuskegee, and debated long as to which of them i should devote the two-cent stamp, trusting to receive some financial aid. finally i decided on one of these "good friends." i used the stamp, and have not heard from him from that day to this. while carpentry was my special trade, i found the opportunity to get information as to the other industries on the grounds. all of this supplemental study has proved most helpful to me in my present work. most persons who enter school for the first time, and especially industrial schools, get wrong impressions at the start. notwithstanding the fact that i was a young man who had "knocked about" the world quite a little, i thought i had made a mistake in entering school, and did not begin to see that i had done properly until i had been there for eight or nine months. i asked for an excuse to leave school early in the first term; it was denied me. i tried to sell my trunk for $ , so that i might run away. i had a penchant for running away from disagreeable surroundings. i was offered $ , but for the sake of the difference of $ i decided to remain. i do not hesitate to say that each day i live in my heart i most heartily thank the good friends who have made it possible for tuskegee to be; i am also most grateful that i was able to reach it and receive the training which i received there. i did nothing great while at tuskegee, but i remember with pride that i gave no trouble in any way during my sojourn. i used my spare hours making picture-frames, repairing window-shades, making flower-stands and flower-boxes, and working flower-gardens for the various faculty families. the money received i saved until the end of the school term. at the end of each term there were always a large number of students who cared nothing for their books, and all but gave them away. looking three months ahead, i bought these books and sold them to new students who entered the following year. one year alone i cleared $ in this way. the second-hand book business among the students began from this effort on my part to add to my little pile of cash money. having completed the course with a class of thirty-one members, may , , i started straight for my home, meridian, miss. for six years, as a student, i had been at tuskegee and under its influences; now i had only my conscience to dictate to me and to keep me straight. feeling that i could not do much good at meridian, i started for texas, having had a position promised me. i reached mobile, ala., while en route, and heard that miss mary clinton, previously mentioned, was in tampa, fla. feeling that she still had some interest in me, i again decided to go to her for advice. i reached the city of tampa with but a small sum in my pocket. the town was undergoing a "boom," and i was certain that it would not be long before i would be earning something, but, to my disappointment, i found about thirty men looking for every job in sight. after much wearying search i became thoroughly convinced that tampa was too large a city not to give me something to do besides "looking up into the air." finally, one rainy morning i secured work at a freight-house. it was my lot to go first up the wet, steep, and slippery gang-plank. not being used to such a task, i fell, the truck with pounds narrowly escaping me. i got up and made a second attempt to carry my load, and with success. i had been there two months when the agent wanted some new shelves built in the storehouse. he told one of his employees to go for a carpenter. he replied, "this man calhoun can do any such work you want done." the agent had me get my tools and do the work. a few days afterward he wanted a first-class cook to prepare and serve a special christmas dinner. the same employee told him, "calhoun can do it." the motto of my class was, "we conquer by labor." on april , , both miss clinton and myself were called to a school in south carolina, and in a simple way, with $ saved, we married and boarded the train for our new field of labor. after giving up our work and reaching sanford, miles away, we received a letter asking us to defer our coming until the following october. this was a very, very sad disappointment and trial to us. it was two weeks before the state examinations would be held. we prepared as best we could, and as a result of the examination we were sent to eatonville, fla., to take charge of the public school there. eatonville is a negro town with colored officers, a colored postmaster, and colored merchants. there is not a single white person living within the incorporated city; it promises to be a unique community. it is situated near the center of orange county, six miles from orlando, the county seat, and is two miles from the seaboard air-line railroad, and one and one-half miles from the atlantic coast line railroad. it was said by the late bishop h. b. whipple, of wisconsin--whose winter home for a number of years was a half mile from this place--who had helped the people of this community, and who was a constant helper and adviser to my wife and me in our work until his death, that you might travel the whole state over and not find a more healthy place. we were here but a few days when we decided that this was the place for us to begin putting into practise the lessons taught us at tuskegee. we felt that we wanted to do something toward helping our people. we decided to cast our lot permanently at eatonville. our first "industrial" service was done with the aid of the school children: we cleaned the street of tin cans and other rubbish. we found the lessons in economy which we had received at tuskegee very valuable to us at this trying time. we felt that if we would properly impress the lessons most needed we should own a home, a cow, some chickens, a horse, and a garden; we felt that there should be tangible ownership on the part of the people of some of these things, at any rate. these things we started to get as soon as possible. we wanted to teach the people by example. after talking in a general way for some days of the value of industrial education, coupled with that of intelligent class-room instruction, mrs. calhoun succeeded in getting four girls to come to her home for sewing lessons. that was the first step. incidentally, we heard of the philanthropic instincts of a gentleman, mr. e. c. hungerford, living at chester, conn., who had conditionally offered to another school twenty acres of land, and whose offer was not met. i wrote to him asking if he would give us the land. he replied that he would be glad to give us forty acres if we would use it for school purposes. on february , , having the deed in hand, a board of trustees was selected, and, with the aid of nine men who cleared one and one-half acres of land while their wives furnished the dinner, we started what is now the robert c. hungerford industrial school. the new school now owns acres of land secured as follows: from mr. and mrs. e. c. hungerford, acres; from mr. and mrs. t. w. cleavland, acres; from mrs. nancy b. hungerford, acres; by purchase, an additional acres. the school has two dormitories, booker t. washington hall, the j. w. alfred cluett memorial hall, and six other buildings used for shops, barn, and dining-room. the total value of the property, clear of all indebtedness, is $ , . we teach the boys blacksmithing, wheelwrighting, carpentry, agriculture, stock-raising, poultry-raising, and truck-gardening; the girls receive instruction in dressmaking, plain sewing, cooking, laundering, millinery, basketry, and housekeeping. we give no industry at the expense of the literary work. the academic department covers a useful course of the english branches. the moral, religious, industrial, and financial influence of the school upon the community, as well as upon the students who have attended, who come from many counties in the state, has grown steadily as the years have come and gone. the school has at present forty-five young people in the boarding department, including seven teachers, three of whom have come from tuskegee; a large enrolment of students from the immediate community and from the surrounding territory. i have not said very much regarding the difficulties, the struggles, to plant this work, but i am glad to say that from the beginning we have had the friendliest support and advice from all the white people of this section, officials and citizens alike. i owe much of my success in the work here to the cheerful and freely given counsel at all times of hon. w. l. palmer, representative in the state legislature, and to the members of the board of public instruction of this (orange) county. the colored people have had little to give in cash, but have been most liberal in their contributions of labor. they have been willing to help themselves. my constant, my most earnest desire is to prove myself worthy of my opportunities, that i may continue to be a worthy representative of tuskegee. i feel that i owe all that i am, all that i can hope to be, to the training of my mother, to the constant help and counsel of my wife, and to tuskegee, my tuskegee, from which i have received so many lessons that have been of incalculable help to me. i look back to my lessons in carpentry, as well as to all the others, with gratitude for the thoroughness insisted upon in all directions. i was rescued from a life of aimlessness, and put in the way of doing something of good for my fellows. xvii the evolution of a shoemaker by charles l. marshall i was born in the town of henderson, state of kentucky, january , . my father and mother were both slaves. my father rendered service during the civil war as a union soldier. as early as i can remember there was in henderson a public free school for colored children. in there came to our town a young man from louisville, ky., john k. mason by name, to take charge of the school. how he secured his education i never learned, but that he devoted his life to the uplift of his race is everywhere in that section clearly in evidence. unfortunately, i was not permitted as a boy to go to school, but became a factory lad instead; for, almost before i was old enough to begin my education, i was put to work in a tobacco factory, and there i remained. from childhood to manhood i think i spent, all told, not more than three years in school. somehow i had a faint idea of the value of education, and manifested a desire for learning by securing the services of a young man, whose country-school term had expired, to give me lessons at night when not otherwise engaged. he was quite a "society" man, so that my school-nights were few in number. while my father did not provide for my education, he was himself an industrious man and provided that i should not be idle. each year, when the tobacco season was over, i had regular employment in a cooper-shop with my father, and i learned to make barrels and hogsheads. this trade i found to be quite valuable, for before i was twenty-one years of age i was able to demand wages of two dollars a day as a cooper. quite incidentally i heard of the work being done at tuskegee by principal booker t. washington and the opportunity offered there to get an education. i at once applied for admission. i received a letter from the principal admitting me to school in the autumn of , when i was twenty-two years of age. i did not enter the school, however, until . i registered as a night-school student and asked to be assigned to the carpenter-shop, as that seemed more in line with coopering. this division was so crowded that i was forced to take shoemaking instead. at this trade i worked two years and attended night-school. at the end of this period i resolved to go to north alabama and work in the coal-mines to get money for clothing, books, and to help me along with my expenses when the money earned at tuskegee should run out. realizing that every dollar in my school life would count, i decided to live most cheaply, even cooking for myself. in the end, following this method, i had more money with which to return to school. i worked all day and returned to work again the same night, that i might not lose the prize of education, the pursuit of which i kept daily before me. somewhere i heard this quotation, "if anybody else can, i can, too." with this sentiment i continued to push ahead, until in may, , i completed the course of study with the first honor of my class. during my stay at tuskegee i made such a record in the shoemaking-shop that my instructor was anxious to have me take an assistant's place with him. this i refused, preferring to start a career in texas, of which i had heard such glowing accounts. in the months of june, july, and a part of august, , i was employed with others making the shoes which constituted a part of tuskegee's industrial exhibit at the atlanta exposition. at the solicitation of a number of persons living at mineola, tex., i decided, even before graduation, to begin my life-work at that place. reaching mineola, i found a fight on hand between the teacher of the colored school and the patrons of the school. immediately on learning this fact i withdrew from the contest, notwithstanding the fact that my cash earnings were almost exhausted and those who had invited me there seemed unable to guarantee me the position. an incident occurred at mineola which i shall never forget. it was the second meeting with prof. h. t. kealing, then president of paul quinn college, waco, tex., but now editor of the african methodist episcopal church review, an ambitious magazine publication of the great african methodist episcopal church. the occasion was a quarterly conference of the african methodist episcopal church at mineola, and professor kealing was there to deliver a lecture. our first meeting was at tuskegee while i was a student there during my senior year. in that far-away country i was very glad to see some one i knew, and after the meeting i was not long in making myself known to professor kealing. he heard my story, praised the stand i had taken, and expressed regrets that he was not able to offer me a place in paul quinn college. he suggested that i take a letter of introduction to dr. i. b. scott, then president of wiley university, marshall, tex., but now a bishop in the methodist episcopal church, the first colored man to be elected to the episcopacy of that great church. at wiley i was kindly received by bishop scott, and entered into a contract with him to teach shoemaking for my board and the proceeds of the shop. i entered into the spirit of wiley with such earnestness that at the close of my first month i was made a salaried teacher at $ a month, and before the session was half gone my salary had been raised to $ . i completed the year's work with perfect satisfaction to all concerned. what i enjoyed most of all during my year at wiley was the esteem and personal friendship of bishop scott. his letters addressed to me upon the eve of my resignation, the esteem he placed on my work while in the employ of the university, and his entreaties that i should not tender my resignation so embarrassed me that for a time i was unable to tell what i should do. i felt i owed it to tuskegee to go wherever principal washington thought my services were most desired. on two occasions since i left there bishop scott has taken occasion to voice his approval of my conduct while at wiley: once before the east tennessee conference of the methodist episcopal church, and in october, , to my students, when he came to visit me at the christiansburg institute. about the first of may, , i received a telegram from principal washington requesting me to allow him to present my name to the board of managers of the christiansburg industrial institute for the principalship then vacant. i agreed, and was elected to the place. before entering upon the duties of my new position at christiansburg i made a visit to tuskegee, for the purpose of gaining information as to the scope of my work and as to how i should best proceed. after spending nearly two months at tuskegee, i made my way to my new field of labor in virginia, reaching christiansburg the th of july, . the appearance of things at christiansburg did not come up to my expectations, nor was my reception in accordance with what i had expected. under the conditions which then existed, one of more experience than i had would have expected just about such a reception as i received. the people seemed almost crazed that a tuskegee graduate should be planning to engraft the tuskegee idea in that section--and this, too, in spite of hampton. in my effort to carry out the plans sanctioned by dr. washington, i soon realized i was facing opposition well-nigh insurmountable. this was due to their misunderstanding of dr. washington, and of what tuskegee really stands for. as far as possible, i gathered around me men and women who, like myself, were thoroughly imbued with the tuskegee idea, and together we pushed ahead with our plans. from the first i was given to understand that the desire of the board was that there should be at christiansburg a school similar to hampton and tuskegee; though smaller, it should be no less perfect in what it was designed to do. to reach this end the school had to undergo the change from a distinctly literary school to one with both literary and industrial branches; from a regular, ordinary school to one with a boarding department. my plans met the approval of all concerned, yet there was little idea on my part as to the amount of money and labor necessary to put them into operation. the course of study was rearranged to suit the new conditions, and five industries were installed. a circular setting forth the purposes of the school was published and scattered abroad. we then thought that this was nearing the end of the great task, when in reality we had hardly begun. [illustration: girls gardening.] the board of managers did not oppose the boarding department, yet they did not sanction it to the extent of supporting it. i had confidence in my plans and was willing to start alone. this step was far more perplexing than i had at first imagined. as the time drew near for the opening of school, i was aware that for the boarding department i had to find a suitable house and procure necessary furniture. in the basement of the school building was some lumber which had been used for a platform. with the assistance of one of the teachers this stage-lumber was converted into five bedsteads and three small tables. i succeeded in getting one of the merchants to credit us for several lamps. with this furniture, several stools, an equal number of dry-goods boxes, and a few kitchen utensils, the boarding department of the institution was started. notwithstanding the scanty arrangement, i am glad to say that for the most part there was but little or no complaint. sufficient money was appropriated by the board of managers to provide for the purchase of necessary working tools for the added industrial classes. i kept our friends in the north reminded of our need of additional land. the industrial-school idea with a department of agriculture was not succeeding well on a half-acre of ground. after two years of patient toil this question of land was recognized as a necessity, and accordingly two friends undertook to solicit subscriptions to the amount of $ , with which to purchase a farm of acres, two horses, a set of harness, a wagon, and a plow. by this time spring was well on and we were planning to make a crop. in a runaway one of the school horses was badly injured. the purchase of the farm, etc., had about exhausted our northern resources and the school was in debt. to my credit in the bank of christiansburg was a small sum of money, with which i purchased a horse. the crop that year was fairly successful. before taking possession of the farm, it was understood that instead of the proceeds of the farm going toward maintaining or paying teachers' salaries, the money should go toward building up the soil, which was well run down, and that we should devote all possible effort in the direction of restoring the soil to its once high state of fertilization. owning this farm, we had the "big house" where the master once lived, and several of the slave cabins, which still remain, where the slaves resided. hundreds of slaves, i have been told, tilled this soil in the days long ago, when its productive power was greater than that of any estate in this whole section. it is a remarkable and significant fact that where the master once lived is a recitation building for colored boys and girls, and where the slaves once huddled around the flickering light of a pine-knot young negro students are quartered daily, preparing for the duties of the morrow. in building up the school to its present position, five persons, almost from the very beginning, have figured most prominently, viz.: e. a. long and his wife, miss willie mae griffin, the writer and his wife--all tuskegee graduates. it is needless that i remark here that the burdens borne by the men have been in no sense heavier than those borne by these faithful women. the road along which we have traveled has not been, by any means, a smooth one. we all had been toilers at tuskegee and knew well how to face the duties of life. this was decidedly in our favor. i was the oldest of the company and perhaps had seen more of hardship than the others; it therefore fell to my lot to give courage to the others when hope was all but gone. some time previous to our taking possession of the farm, some of the occupants had sown about half an acre in a kind of radish commonly known hereabout as "pig radish." it must be remembered that each year, after the eight months' academic work was over, we received no money from any source whatever. paying the salaries of teachers who were to leave for the summer and meeting other demands of the institution always exhausted the school's treasury before the summer season began. with a "cropping" season of four months ahead, no money, no source from which any could be expected, the nice tender "pig radish," year after year, became our food-supply for the early part of the summer at least. thus, while pushing the operations of the farm, rebuilding the soil by means of turning under green crops, fertilizers, etc., "pig-radish" greens, western side meat, and corn-meal constituted our chief diet. beef came to us as a luxury twice a week. the work was divided so that e. a. long, our treasurer, was gardener, i was farmer, our wives and miss griffin were matrons and cooks. the th of july, , found the work of the farm in such a prosperous condition that it was decided to celebrate the event with a cake and some ice-cream, for by this time we owned a cow. one peculiar thing happened about the time we purchased this farm. we were teaching a graded school which we were eager to turn into a boarding institution. the pupils and patrons were in perfect accord with the faculty, but as soon as the fact became known that we had purchased a large tract of land and would endeavor to build a boarding and industrial school thereon, the members of the faculty at once became objects of scorn to almost the entire colored population. there were at that time enrolled in the school children. within less than a month more than had dropped out. when school closed in may there were only children attending. we went about our duties, however, without complaint. while we worked, nature also worked for us. vegetation flourished wherever seed were sown; the trees bore a harvest of apples such as i have not seen since, and all went well. as i look back over those years of trial, of privation, of sacrifice, i find they were conditions precedent to laying an enduring foundation. our hope has been to establish a school where poor but earnest boys and girls can secure an education. it was through our efforts, first of all, that we were able to prove to the supporters of the school that such an institution could live and grow and do great and lasting good for those it is designed to help. year by year the school has grown. year by year the people of the community realize the sincerity of my teachers and give them hearty support. patience, toil, trust in god, and enterprise are the elements which are fast putting this work on its feet. every person who visits the school sees earnestness manifested on farm, in shop, in class, about the grounds, everywhere, and goes away a sincere friend. not alone do we have our visitor's friendship, but he tells the simple story to others and the number of friends increases. mr. r. c. bedford, of beloit, wis., after visiting the school in january, , took occasion to address a gentleman in the north who had interested himself in raising funds for the school, in the following language: "i have not visited the school for three years. great changes have taken place since then. the good there being accomplished is simply immeasurable. mr. marshall and mr. long work together in such perfect harmony as to constitute a force of singular directness and power. i think the work is carried on most economically, and such a clear and full account of all expenditures is given to the public that you must have the utmost confidence of all your friends." a few years ago it was difficult for our treasurer to raise $ , . the raising of funds for institutions is always difficult, but it is not as hard now to raise $ , to $ , as it was to raise $ , a few years ago. mr. e. a. long, our treasurer, whose faithful assistance i have had in every effort to develop the school, was with me, embarrassed by a debt of the boarding department of more than $ . this condition grew, in a large measure, out of the fact that we attempted to supply students' work on the farm to pay their expenses, and the proceeds of the farm were expended as far as possible in the direction of building up the soil. in the fall of the board of managers assumed the responsibility of the boarding department, paid all indebtedness, and to-day the school is operated on a cash basis. during four years there have been contributed toward this work $ , . . we have added to the original plant one $ , dormitory, a cottage costing $ , a barn at a cost of $ , , and a shop building valued at $ , . much has been spent in the way of repairs. we have $ , invested in live stock, and more than $ worth of farming implements. in each of the industrial departments fairly good equipment can be found. we have grown from a half acre of ground to more than acres; from horses to head of live stock; from a printing-press weighing pounds to one weighing , pounds. agriculture, carpentry, printing, shoemaking, laundering, cooking, sewing, and basketry are carried on successfully. the farm produces large crops of cereals, vegetables, fruits, and raises a large share of the meat used by the school. all the flour for the past three years came from the wheat produced on the farm. the growth of the school has commended itself favorably to those who have had occasion to investigate its claims. a committee appointed to look into the condition of the school some time ago made the following statement: "in conclusion, your committee would say that it feels that messrs. marshall and long and their wives have made many sacrifices for the good of the school and have shown a true missionary spirit in carrying on the work, and their ideals and purposes are in accord with the very best. they have borne an awkward and heavy burden in financing the school, and your committee feels that if released from this care their teaching-work will be much improved and become very valuable in building up the school." in addition to the cultivation of the home-farm of acres, the increased amount of stock makes it necessary to rent an adjacent pasture of acres, the property of two of our teachers. i have made an effort to supplement the knowledge acquired at tuskegee through a school of correspondence and through the chautauqua reading circle with some degree of success. the success of this school, in a very large measure, is due to the consecrated effort of the members of the friends' freedmen's association of philadelphia and the board of managers of the institution. from the time i entered upon the work to the present, principal washington has also been a constant source of help and encouragement. five hundred dollars given by him in the spring of was the first money toward the erection of our new dormitory. a combination woodworking-machine is also a result of his interest. we have on hand an endowment fund of several thousand dollars which we are anxious to increase. definite plans have been made for the erection of two new buildings. when the plans thus far mapped out are completed, the plant, now worth $ , , will easily have a valuation of $ , . the end _the social problems series_ edited by oliphant smeaton, m.a., f.s.a. the children _the social problems series_ the children some educational problems by alexander darroch, m.a. professor of education in the university of edinburgh london: t. c. & e. c. jack henrietta street, w.c. and edinburgh contents chap. page i. introduction--the present unrest in education ii. the meaning and process of education iii. the end of education iv. the relation of the state to education--the provision of education v. the relation of the state to education--the cost of education vi. the relation of the state to education--the medical examination of school children and the medical inspection of schools vii. the relation of the state to education--the feeding of school children viii. the organisation of the means of education ix. the aim of physical education x. the aim of the infant school xi. the aim of the primary school xii. the aim of the secondary school xiii. the aim of the university xiv. conclusion--the present problems in education the children chapter i introduction--the present unrest in education the problems as to the end or ends at which our educational agencies should aim in the training and instruction of the children of the nation, and of the right methods of attaining these ends once they have been definitely and clearly recognised, are at the present day receiving greater and greater attention not only from professed educationalists, but also from statesmen and the public generally. for, in spite of all that has been done during the past thirty years to increase the facilities for education and to improve the means of instruction, there is a deep-seated and widely spread feeling that, somehow or other, matters educationally are not well with us, as a nation, and that in this particular line of social development other countries have pushed forward, whilst we have been content to lag behind in the educational rear. the faults in our present educational structure are many, and in some cases obvious to all. in the first place, it is said, and with much truth, that there is no systematic coherence between the different parts of our educational machinery, and no thorough-going correlation between the various aims which the separate parts of the system are intended to realise. as mr. de montmorency has recently pointed out, we have always had a national group of educational facilities, more or less efficient, but we have never had, nor do we yet possess, a national system of education so differentiated in its aims and so correlated as to its parts as to form "an organic part of the life of the nation."[ ] an educational system should subserve and foster the life of the whole: it should be so organised as to maintain a sufficient and efficient supply of all the services which a nation requires at the hands of its adult members. for it is only in so far as the educational system of any country fulfils this end that it can be "organic," and can be entitled to the claim of being called a national system. this lack of coherence between the different parts of our educational system and the want of any systematic plan or unity running through the whole is due to many causes. as a nation, we are little inclined to system-making, and as a consequence the problem of education as a whole and in its total relation to the life and well-being of the state has received but scant attention from politicians. educational questions, in this country, are rarely treated on their own merits and apart from considerations of a party, political, or denominational character, and hence the problems which have received attention in the past and evoke discussion at the present are concerned with the nature of the constitution, and limits of the power of the bodies to whom should be entrusted the local control of the educational agencies of the country, rather than with the problems as to the aims which we should seek to realise through our educational organisation, and of the methods by which these aims may be best realised. hence, as a nation, we have rarely considered for its own sake and as a whole the problem of the education of the children. and until we have done so--until we have made clear to ourselves the kind of future citizen which as a state we desire to rear up--our educational agencies must manifest a like indefiniteness, a like inconsistency, and a like want of connection as do our educational aims and ideals. again, closely connected with this first-named defect in our educational organisation, and in fact following from it as a logical consequence, is our fatal method of developing this or that part of our educational system and of leaving the other parts to develop, if at all, without any central guidance or control, until at length we realise that the neglected parts also require attention, and must somehow or other be refitted into the whole. _e.g._, since there has been a great advance in the extent and intent of elementary education in both england and scotland, but this progress has been of a one-sided nature, and there has been no corresponding advance either in the perfecting of the educational system as a whole, or in the co-ordination of the various grades of education. in scotland, since the passing into law of the education bill of , the means of elementary education have been widely extended and the methods of teaching have been greatly improved, but there has been no corresponding advance in the provision of the means of higher education, and as a consequence, at the present day, we find many districts without adequate provision for carrying on the education of the youth of the country beyond the primary school stage. secondary education has been provided in some centres by means of endowments; in others through the extension of the term "elementary" so as to include education of a more extended nature than was originally intended to be covered by that term. in england until , very much the same conditions prevailed, but since then, mainly in order to remedy the state of things created by the judgment in the cockerton case, the control of primary, secondary, and technical education has been placed in the hands of the county and borough councils, who are empowered "to consider the educational needs of their area, and to take such steps as seem to them desirable, after consultation with the board of education, to supply or aid the supply of education other than elementary, and to promote the general co-ordination of all forms of education." tinder the powers so granted much has been done throughout england during the past few years to extend and make efficient the means of higher education; to erect schools which shall provide training for the future services required by the community and the state of the more highly gifted of its members, and to co-ordinate the work of the various agencies entrusted with the care and education of the children of the nation. through the failure of the education bills of and to pass into law, scotland still awaits the creation of local authorities charged with the control and direction of all grades of education, and in this respect her educational organisation is much more loosely compacted than the system which now exists in england. further, in scotland, on account of the absence of one controlling authority, we often find in those districts in which the provision for higher education is ample, imperfect co-ordination between the aims and work, on the one hand, of the primary school, and on the other, of schools providing higher education. from this cause also it follows that, unlike our german neighbours, we have made little progress in determining the different functions which each particular type of higher school shall perform in the social organism, and have not assigned the particular services which the state requires of each particular type of higher school. it is surely manifest that the service which the modern industrial state looks for from its members is not the same in kind and is much more complex in its nature than that which was required during the mediæval period, and that if this service is to be efficiently supplied, then there is need for higher schools varied in type and having various aims. this want of unity between the various parts of our educational system manifests itself again in the indefiniteness of aim of many of our higher schools, and in the lack of co-ordination between the higher school on the one hand, and institutions providing university and advanced instruction on the other. up till quite recently, the sole aim of our secondary schools was to provide students for the universities and to supply the needs of the learned professions. but with the economic development of the country, and as a consequence of the keen international competition between nation and nation in the economic sphere, there has arisen a demand for a higher education different in kind from that provided by the older universities, and a need for a type of secondary school different in aim and curriculum from that which looks mainly to the provision of students intending to enter upon some one or other of the so-called well recognised learned professions. it is here, when compared and contrasted with the educational systems of some of our continental neighbours, that we find the weakest point in our own system, and at the present time our most urgent need is for the extension and better equipment of the central institutions of the country which provide higher technical and commercial instruction. this unsatisfactory condition of things is due in large measure, as we have already pointed out, to our innate dislike as a nation of all system-making, and to the distrust felt by many minds of any and every form of state control of education. hence, partly from these causes, partly as a result of historical conditions, it has followed that various authorities have in this country the guidance and control of education, with the usual result of want of unity of aim, of lack of correlation of means, and in some cases of overlapping and waste of the means of higher education. in the second place, while much has been done since the advent of compulsory elementary education to better the means of education and to increase the facilities for the higher instruction of the youth of the country, there is a widespread belief that all the hopes held out by the early advocates of universal compulsory education have not been realised, and that our primary schools in large measure have failed to turn out the type of citizen which a state such as ours requires for her after-service. universal education has not proved a panacea for all the social evils of the commonwealth, and while it must be admitted that much good has resulted from the adoption of universal and compulsory education, yet at the same time certain evils have followed in its train. since the institution of universal education, it may be argued that the children of the nation have received a better training in the use of the more mechanical arts of reading, writing, and arithmetic, but the tendency has been to look upon the acquisition of these arts as _ends in themselves_, rather than as mere instruments for the further extension and development of knowledge and practice, and hence our primary school system, to a large extent, has failed to cultivate the imagination of the child, and has also failed to train the reason and to develop initiative on the part of the pupil. there has been more instruction, it has been said, during the last thirty years, but less education; for the process of education consists in the building up within the child's mind of permanent and stable systems of ideas which shall hereafter function in the attainment and realisation of the various ends of life. now, our school practice is still largely dominated by the old conception that mere memory knowledge is all-important, and as a consequence much of the so-called knowledge acquired during the school period is found valueless in after life to realise any definite purpose, for it is only in so far as the knowledge acquired has been systematised that it can afterwards be turned to use in the furtherance of the aims of adult life. from this it follows that, since much of the knowledge acquired during the school period has no bearing on the real and practical needs of life, the primary school in many cases fails to create any permanent or real interest in the works either of nature or of society. but a much more serious charge is laid at times against our primary school system. it is contended that during the past thirty years it has done little to raise the moral tone of the community, and it has done still less to develop that sense of civic and national responsibility without which the moral and social progress of a nation is impossible. our huge city schools are manufactories rather than educational institutions--places where yearly a certain number of the youth of the country are turned out able to some extent to make use of the mechanical arts of reading and writing, and with a smattering of many branches of knowledge, but with little or no training for the moral and civic responsibilities of life. this is evident, it is urged, if we consider how little the school does to counteract and to supplant the evil influences of a bad home or social environment. what truth there may be in these charges and what must be done to remedy this state of matters will be discussed when we consider later the existing elementary school system. here it is sufficient to point out that one of the causes at work to-day tending to arouse a renewed interest in educational problems is the feeling now beginning to find expression that the kind of universal elementary education provided somehow or other fails, and has failed, to produce all that was in the beginning expected of it--that it has in the past been too much divorced from the real interests of life, and that it must be remodelled if it is to fit the individual to perform his duty to society. a third fault often found with our existing school system is that in the case of the majority of the children the process of education stops at too early an age. the belief is slowly spreading that if we are to educate thoroughly the children of the nation so as to fit them to perform efficiently the after duties of life, something of a more systematic character than has as yet been done is required, in order to carry on and to extend the education of the child after the elementary school stage has been passed. for it is evident that during the primary school period all that can be expected in the case of the larger number of children is that the school should lay a sound basis in the knowledge of the elementary arts necessary for all social intercourse, and for the realisation of the simpler needs of life. a beginning may be made, during this period, in the formation and establishment of systems of knowledge which have for their aim the realisation of the more complex theoretical and practical interests of after life, but unless these are furthered and extended in the years in which the boy is passing from youth to manhood, then as a consequence much of what has been acquired during the early period fails to be of use either to the individual or to society. again, it is surely unwise to give no heed to the systematic education of the majority of the children during the years when they are most susceptible to moral and social influences, and to leave the moral and social education of the youth during the adolescent period to the unregulated and uncertain forces of society. lastly, in this connection it is economically wasteful for the nation to spend largely in laying the mere foundations of knowledge, and then to adopt the policy of non-interference, and to leave to the individual parent the right of determining whether the foundation so laid shall be further utilised or not. a fourth criticism urged against our educational system is that in the past we have paid too little attention to the technical education of those destined in after life to become the leaders of industry and the captains of commerce. our higher school system has been too predominantly of one type--it has taken too narrow a view of the higher services required by the state of its members, and our educational system has not been so organised as to maintain and farther the economic efficiency of the state. for it may be contended that the economic efficiency of the individual and of the nation is fundamental in the sense that without this, the attainment of the other goods of life can not or can be only imperfectly realised, and it is obvious that according to the measure in which the economic welfare of the individual and of the state is secured, in like measure is secured the opportunity for the development and realisation of the other aims of the individual and of the nation. thus the present unrest as regards our educational affairs may be largely traced to the four causes enumerated. we have begun to realise that our educational system lacks definiteness of aim, and that its various parts are badly co-ordinated; that, in short, we do not as yet possess a national system of education which ministers to and subserves the life of the state as a whole. we are further beginning to perceive that the provision of the means of higher education is too important a matter to be left to the care of the private individual, and that education must be the concern of the whole body of the people. hence it has been said that on the creation of a national system of education, fitted to meet the needs of the modern state, depends largely the future of britain as a nation. again, all that was hoped for as the result of universal compulsory education has not been realised, and the feeling is growing that there is something defective in the aims of our primary school system, and that it fails, and has failed, to develop in the individual the moral and social qualities required by a state such as ours, which is becoming increasingly democratic in character. further, we are learning, partly through experience, partly from the example of other countries, that the period during which our children must be under the regulated control of the school and of society must be lengthened, if we are to realise the final aim of all education, which is to enable the individual on the intellectual side to apply the knowledge gained to the furtherance and extension of the various purposes of life, and on the moral side to enable him to use his freedom rightly. lastly, as a nation, we are beginning to discover that without the better technical training of our workmen, and especially of those to whom in after-life will be entrusted the control and direction of our industries and commerce, we are likely to fall behind the other advanced nations in the race for economic supremacy. but, in addition to these negative forces at work, tending to produce dissatisfaction with our educational position, the opinion is growing stronger and clearer that the education, physical, intellectual, and moral, of the children of the nation is a matter of supreme importance for the future well-being and the future supremacy of the nation, and that it is the duty of the state to see that the opportunity is furnished to each individual to realise to the full all the potentialities of his nature which make for good, so that he may be enabled to render that service to the community for which by nature he is best fitted. compulsory elementary education is but one stage in the process. we must, as a nation, at least see that no insuperable obstacles are placed in the path of those who have the requisite ability and desire to advance farther in the development of their powers. moreover, if need be, we must, in the words of rousseau, compel those who from various causes are unwilling to realise themselves, to attain their full freedom. this demand for the better and fuller education of the children of the nation is motived partly by the growing conviction that the freedom, political, civil, and religious, which we as a nation enjoy, can only be maintained, furthered, and strengthened in so far as we have educated our children rightly to understand and rightly to use this freedom to which they are heirs. democracy, as a form of government and as a power for good, is only possible when the mass of the people have been wisely and fully educated, so that they are enabled to take an intelligent and comprehensive interest in all that pertains to the good and future welfare of the state. a democracy of ill or partially educated people sooner or later becomes an ochlocracy,[ ] ruled not by the best, but by those who can work upon the self-interest of the badly or one-sidedly educated. a true democracy is in fact ever aristocratic, in the original sense of that term. a false democracy ever tends to become ochlocratic, and the only safeguard against such a state of conditions arising in a country where representative government exists is the spread of higher education, and the inculcation of a right conception of the nature and functions of the state and of the duties of citizenship. but further, the demand for increased facilities for higher and technical education is motived largely by the conviction that in the education of our children we must in the future more than we have done in the past take means to secure the fitness of the individual to perform efficiently some specific function in the economic organisation of society. and the demand proceeds, not from any desire to narrow down the aims of education, to place it on a purely utilitarian basis, but from the belief that the securing of the physical and economic efficiency of the individual is of fundamental and primary importance both for his own welfare and the well-being and progress of the state, and that in proportion as we secure the higher economic efficiency of a larger and larger number of the people we also secure the essential condition for the development and extension of those other goods of life which can be attained by the majority of a nation only after a certain measure of economic prosperity and economic security is assured. the social evils of our own or of any time cannot, of course, be removed by any one remedy, but an education which endeavours to secure that each individual shall have the opportunity to develop himself and to fit himself for the after performance of the service for which by nature he is suited may do much to mitigate the evils incident upon the industrial organisation of society. if this end is to be realised, then three things at least are necessary. we must seek by some means or other to check the large number of our boys and girls who, after leaving the primary school, drift year by year, either through the ignorance or the cupidity or the poverty of their parents, into the ranks of untrained labour, and who in the course of two or three years go to swell the ranks of the unskilled, casual workers, and become in many cases, in the course of time, the unemployed and the unemployable. in the second place, we must endeavour to secure the better technical training of the youth during their years of apprenticeship, and so tend to raise the general efficiency of the workers of the nation whatever the nature--manual or mental--of their employment. in the third place, we must endeavour, by means of our system of education, to increase the mobility of labour. in the modern state, where changes in the industrial organisation are frequent, the worker who can most easily adapt himself to changing circumstances is best assured of constant employment, and a great part of the social evils of our time may be traced to this want of mobility on the part of a large number of our workers. the mobility of labour is of course always determined within certain limits, but much may and could be done by pursuing from the beginning a right method in educating the child to develop its power of self-adaptation to the needs of a changing environment. if these results are to be attained, then we shall have, as a nation, to make clear to ourselves the real meaning and purpose of education; we shall have to make explicit the nature of the ends which we desire to secure as the result of our educational efforts, and we shall have to organise our educational agencies so that the ends desired shall be secured. let us now consider the question of the meaning, purpose, and ends of education. footnotes: [ ] _national education and national life_, p. . [ ] _ochlos_, a mob. chapter ii the meaning and process of education "of all the animals with which the globe is peopled, there is none towards whom nature seems, at first sight, to have exercised more cruelty than towards man, in the numberless wants and necessities with which she has loaded him, and in the slender means which she affords to the relieving of these necessities. in other creatures these two particulars generally compensate each other. if we consider the lion as a voracious and carnivorous animal, we shall easily discover him to be very necessitous, but if we turn our eye to his make and temper, his agility, his courage, his arms, and his force, we shall find that his advantages hold proportion with his wants.... in man alone this unnatural conjunction of infirmity and of necessity may be observed in the greatest perfection. not only the food which is required for his sustenance flies his search and approach, or at least requires his labour to be produced, but he must be possessed of clothes and lodging to defend him against the injuries of the weather: though to consider him only in himself, he is provided neither with arms, nor force, nor other natural abilities which are in any degree answerable to so many 'necessities.' 'tis by society alone he is able to supply his defects and raise himself up to an equality with his fellow-creatures, and even acquires a superiority over them."[ ] in these terms hume draws the distinction between man and the animals, and if, for the term society, we substitute the word education, then we shall more truly describe the means by which man overcomes his natural infirmities and meets his necessities. but we have to ask, wherein does man differ from the animals? what power or faculty does he possess over and above those possessed by himself and the animals in common? and how does it happen that as his wants and needs increase and multiply the means to satisfy them also tend to increase? now, the animal is guided wholly or mainly by instinct. in the case of many animals the whole conduct of their life from birth to death is governed by this means. in the case, indeed, of some of the higher animals, there is a limited power of modifying this government by instinct through the experience acquired during the lifetime of the individual. but man alone possesses the power or faculty of reason. and it is through the possession of this power that he alone of all creatures can be educated; it is the possession of this power which places him above the rest of creation, and it is in the possession of this power that the possibility of his greatness, and also of his baseness, lies. now, an instinct may be defined as an inborn and inherited system of means for the attainment of a definite end of such a nature that once the appropriate external stimulus is applied the system tends to work itself out in an automatic manner until the end is attained, and independently of any control exercised by the individual. the working out of such an action may be accompanied by consciousness, but the power of memory would only be valuable in so far as the instinct was imperfect, and in so far as the better attainment of the end was fostered by direct individual experience. thus the greater the range of instinct the less the scope of and the less the need for education--_i.e._, for acquiring experiences that will function in rendering more efficient future action; and conversely, the less the range of instinct the greater the need for education, for acquiring experiences that may function in the guidance and direction of future action. now, in man the range of instinct is small. in fact, it is questionable whether in the strict usage of the term he possesses any one perfect instinct. but to overcome this weakness of his nature he possesses the power or faculty of reason, and this consists in the ability to self-find, to self-adapt, and to self-establish systems of means for the attainment of definite ends. "man's splendid power of learning through experience and of applying the contents of his memory to forecast and mould the future is his peculiar glory. it is this which distinguishes him from and raises him above all other animals. this it is that makes him man. this it is that has enabled him to conquer the whole world and to adapt himself to a million conditions of life."[ ] this it is that also makes possible the education of the child, and raises the hope that by a truer and deeper conception of the process of education we shall be enabled to mould the character of the children to worthy ends. but although man is pre-eminently the rational animal, yet reason only operates, and can only operate, in so far as it is called into activity by the need of satisfying some inborn or acquired desire. that is, man possesses not only reason, but also certain instinctive tendencies to action. in early life, the instincts of curiosity, of imitation, of emulation, and the various forms of the play instinct are ever inciting the child to action, and ever evoking his reason-activity to acquire new experiences which shall function in the more efficient performance of future action. at a later stage other instinctive tendencies make their appearance, as _e.g._ the parental instinct, and serve as motives for the further acquisition of new experiences--for the establishment of other systems of means for the attainment of desired ends. but as the child passes from infancy to youth and manhood, these instinctive tendencies, although ever present, alter their character, and acquired ends or interests become the motives of actions. but these acquired ends or interests are not something created out of nothing: they are grafted upon and arise out of the innate and inherited instinctive tendencies of man's nature. thus, _e.g._, the instinct of mere self-preservation may pass into the desire to attain a certain standard of life, or to maintain a certain social status; the instinct of curiosity into the desire to find out and to systematise knowledge for its own sake. but for the realisation of these instinctive ends, whether in their crude or acquired forms, the finding and the establishment of systems of means in every case is necessary, and in order that they may be realised man must acquire the requisite capacities for action. in the case of the animal the instinct or impulse to action is inherited, but the capacity for action is also inborn or innate. man possesses all the innate ends or interests which the animal possesses. moreover, upon these innate ends or interests can be grafted ends or interests innumerable and varied in character, but in order that they may be satisfied he must through the evoking into activity of reason find and adapt means for their attainment. thus the general nature of our conscious human life is that throughout we are striving to attain ends of a more or less explicit nature, and endeavouring to find out and to establish means for their attainment. whether in the performance of some simple, practical act, or in trying to observe accurately what is presented to us through the senses, or in endeavouring to realise imaginatively something not directly presented to the senses, or in performing an abstract process of thought, the activity of reason in its formal aspect is ever one and the same. hence in education we have not to do with the development of many powers or faculties but with the development or the evolution of the one power or faculty of reason, and the process of development in its general nature is always the same in kind--viz., the process of systematically building up knowledge which shall function in the future determination of conduct. what varies in each case, at each stage of development, is the nature of the material which goes to form this or that system, and the character of the identity or link of connection which binds part to part within any given system. a system of knowledge may be built up of perceptual elements, of ideas derived directly through the medium of the senses. of such a character are the systems of knowledge possessed by the artist and the musician. again, a system of knowledge may be composed wholly or mainly of images--of remembered ideas, so altered and so modified as to form and fit into a new whole. lastly, the elements which go to form the component parts of the system may be of a conceptual character. thus we may select the number aspect of things for consideration and treatment, and so build up and establish within the mind of the child a number system. but in each and every case the power at work is the activity of reason, and the end ever in view in the selection and in the formation of the system is the satisfaction of some end or interest desired either for its own sake or as a means to some further and remoter end. further, a system of knowledge may differ not only in the nature of the materials of which it is composed, but also in the mode of its formation; _i.e._, the nature of the identity which binds part to part within the system may vary in character. now it is upon the nature of the systems which we ultimately form in the mind of the child and upon the method which we pursue in our process of system or knowledge making that the resultant character of our education depends. a system of knowledge may be related as regards its parts by some qualitative or quantitative bond of identity. all sciences of mere classification are formed in this way, and the formation of such systems is in some cases a necessary preliminary to the evolution of the higher forms of system. but the important point to note is that all such systems are valuable only as a means to the further recognition, the further classification, of similar instances. an individual whose mind was wholly formed in this way might be compared to a well-arranged museum, where everything is classified and arranged on the basis of qualitative identity. but manifestly this mere arranging and classifying of knowledge has only a limited value. such systems can never be used as means for the realisation of any practical need of life, can never by themselves lead us to intrinsically connected knowledge. a second and higher form of system is established whenever the bond of connection between part and part is an identity of function or of law. all language systems are of this nature, and the more highly synthetic the language the more intrinsic the connection there is between the parts of the system. further, it should be noted that systems of this character can be used for the attainment of other ends than those of mere recognition and classification. they, of course, can be used as instruments of intercourse, of culture, and of commerce. but they may further be utilised in education in the training of the pupil to self-apply a system of knowledge to the solution of relatively new problems, and it is for this reason mainly that the ancient languages possess their value as educational instruments. lastly, systems of knowledge may be formed in which the inter-relation of part to part within the system is that of identity of cause and effect. in the establishment of scientific knowledge the aim is to show the causal inter-relation of part to part within a systematic whole or unity. hence also, as in the case of language systems, systems of this nature are capable of being used to train the pupil to self-apply knowledge in the solution of practical and theoretical problems, and in the realising of the practical ends of life. once again it must be noted that in the establishment of the various systems of knowledge the one activity ever present is that of reason seeking ever to connect part to part in order that some end or interest may be attained. moreover, we may misuse the power of reason, and employ it in the attainment of ends which are valueless in the sense that they further no real interest or end in life. this is done whenever knowledge is crammed, whenever the bond of connection between one part of knowledge and the other is extrinsic, and whenever facts are connected and remembered by bonds of a more or less accidental or factitious nature. and since such knowledge can further no direct interest or end in life, its acquisition must, as a rule, be motived by some strong indirect interest. as a consequence, whenever the indirect interest, whatever its nature may be,--the fear of punishment, or the passing of an examination,--ceases to operate, then the desire for further acquisition also ceases. hence it follows that the establishment of any such system is of comparatively little value. it may pave the way at a later period for the formation of a system of intrinsically connected knowledge, but as a general rule such systems, because they cannot be used, tend soon to drop out of mind, and to be of no further consequence in the determination of conduct. but further, this misuse of reason, this inciting of the mind to memorise facts unrelated except by their mere accidental time or space relations, will if persisted in tend to render the individual dull, stupid, and unimaginative. the systems of knowledge, then, of most value are those which establish intrinsic connections between part and part; for it is only by means of systems of this character that action can be determined and knowledge extended. in this sense we may agree with herbert spencer[ ] that science or systematised knowledge is of chiefest value both for the guidance of conduct and for the discipline of mind. at the same time we must not fall into the spencerian error of identifying science "with the study of surrounding phenomena," and in making the antithesis between science and linguistic studies one between dealing with real things on the one hand, and mere words on the other. further, since the establishment of a system of means is always through the self-finding and the self-forming of the system, this furnishes the key to the only sound method of education--viz., that the child must be trained in the self-discovering and the self-connecting of knowledge. this does not mean that the method should be heuristic in rousseau's sense, that the child should be told nothing, but be left to rediscover all knowledge for himself. but it does mean that in the imparting of the garnered experience of the race the child must be trained in the methods by which the race has slowly and gradually built up a knowledge of the means necessary for the realisation of the many and complex ends of civilised life. before passing on to consider the ends at which we should aim in the education of the child, it may be well briefly to summarise the conclusions reached. . man is distinguished from the rest of creation by the possession of reason: the animal life is mainly or wholly guided by instinct. . man like the animals possesses instincts or instinctive tendencies, but for their realisation he must seek out and establish systems of means for their attainment. bereft of these instinctive tendencies of his nature, man would have no incentive to acquire experiences for the more efficient guidance of his future conduct. . in the course of the development and extension of experience there gradually becomes grafted upon these innate instincts, interests or ends of an acquired nature, and one of the main functions of education is to create, foster, and establish on a permanent and stable basis, interests of ethical and social worth. . the power of reason is no occult power: it is simply the capacity for finding and establishing systems of means for the attainment of ends; or it may be defined as the power of acquiring experience and of self-applying this experience in the future guidance of conduct. . the evolution of intelligence in man is the evolution of this reason-activity to the attainment of new and more complex theoretical and practical ends or interests. at an early stage the systems of knowledge established are for the attainment of the relatively simple needs of life, and are composed of perceptual and imagined elements. at a later stage the systems formed may be of the most complex nature, and are composed of conceptual elements. . man is the only being capable of education in the strict usage of the term. he alone must acquire the means for the realisation of the various desired ends of life. . the process of education is a process which, utilising as motives to acquirement the instinctive tendencies of the child's nature, seeks to establish systems of means for their realisation, and upon these innate or inborn instincts to graft acquired ends or interests which shall hereafter function in the attainment of ends of economic, ethical, and social worth. . the only truly educative method is the method which trains the pupil to find, establish, and apply systems of knowledge in the attainment of ends of felt value. footnotes: [ ] hume's _treatise of human nature_, bk. iii. part ii. sec. . [ ] _principles of heredity_, by g. archdall reid, p. . [ ] cf. herbert spencer, _education_, especially chap. i. chapter iii the end of education we have seen that the process of education is the process of acquiring and organising experiences that will function in the determination of future conduct and ensure the more efficient performance of future action; or we may say that the process is one by which means are gradually established and fixed in the mind for the attainment of ends of value for the realisation of the varied and complex interests of life. now, this acquisition and organisation of experience is never entirely "left to the blind control of inherited impulse," nor is the child wholly left to gather and organise his experiences upon the incentive of any innate or acquired interest that may for the time engage his will. the various agencies of society--the home, the school, the shop and yard--are ever constantly seeking to establish such or such systems of ideas, and to prevent the formation of other systems. hence it follows that education is not a mere natural process--not a process of acquiring experience in response to the demands of this or that natural need, but that it is a regulated process, controlled with the view of finally leading the child to acquire certain experiences, to organise certain systems of means for the attainment of such or such ends. moreover, at various periods in history, the end or ends of education, the kinds of experience thought necessary and valuable for the child to acquire have varied, and still vary, and must vary according to the nature of the civilisation into which the child is born and to which his education must somehow or other adjust him; _i.e._, there is no one type of experience, no one kind of education, which is equally suited to meet the needs of the child born in a modern industrial state and the child whose education must fit him hereafter to fulfil his duties as a member of a savage tribe. further, in determining the nature of the experiences useful to acquire, we must take into account not only the civilisation to which the child is to be adjusted, but we must also take note of the nature of the services which the given society requires of its adult members. these services vary in character, and there can be no one kind of education which equally fits the individual to perform efficiently any and every service. to postulate this would be to affirm that there is a kind of experience useful for the realisation indifferently of any and every purpose of adult life, and to affirm that a system of knowledge acquired and organised for the attainment of certain definite ends can be used for the furtherance of ends different in character and having no intrinsic connection with each other. further, to assert that there is one type of education equally suited to train and to develop the reason-activity of the individual in every direction is to neglect the fact that individuals differ in innate capacity. these differences are due in part to differences in the extent and character of the receptive powers of individuals, and are to be traced, probably, to differences in the size and constitution of the sensory areas of the brain, and are due also in part to inborn differences in the capacity for acquiring and utilising experiences. as a consequence of these differences one individual will acquire and organise certain kinds of experience more readily than others. but not only have the ends sought to be realised through the educational agencies of society varied in the past--not only do we find that the ideals at present vary in character according to the stage of civilisation which the particular country has reached--we also find that the agencies of society determining the character and end of education also vary. for in the discussion of the ends sought to be attained by means of education, we must remember that these are not determined by the teacher, but by "the adult portion of the community organised in the forms of the family, the state, the church, and various miscellaneous associations"[ ] desirous of promoting the welfare of the community. at one time the church largely determined the character and ends of education, but the tendency at the present time is for the state to control more and more the education of the rising generation. in some countries the entire control of all forms of education, primary, secondary, and technical, has come under the guidance of the state, and in our own country elementary education is now largely under the control of the state authorities, and the other forms of education tend increasingly to come under this control. not only is this so, but the period during which the state exercises its control over the education of the child is gradually being lengthened. many causes are at work tending to produce these results in the first place, it is being clearly realised that there can be no thorough-going co-ordination of the various grades of instruction until all the agencies of education in each area are placed under one authority acting under the guidance of some central body responsible for the organisation and direction of the education of the district as a whole. further, there can be no satisfactory settlement of the problem as to what particular function each distinct type of higher school shall perform until the whole means of education are under one determining authority. in the second place, the higher education of the children of the nation is too important a matter to be left entirely to the care of the private individual, and its cost is too great in many cases to be wholly borne by each individual parent. but this provision, organisation, and control of the means of higher education by the state does not necessarily imply that it should be free--that the whole burden should be laid on the shoulders of the general taxpayer. yet unless means are provided by which the poor but clever boy can realise himself, then there is so much loss to the community. in the third place, the organisation of all forms of education and the more extended provision of higher and especially of technical training is necessary, if for no other reason than as a means of economic protection and economic security. lastly, the better organisation of our educational agencies is necessary as a means of securing a democracy capable of understanding the meaning of moral and civic freedom and of using this rightly. but while the concrete nature of the ends to which our educational efforts are directed may vary in accordance with the needs of a changing and progressive civilisation, nevertheless the general nature of the ends sought to be attained by the education of the children of a nation is permanent and unchangeable. that is, we have to recognise a universal as well as a particular element in our educational ideals. now, the universal aim of all education is, or rather should be, to correlate the child with the civilisation of his time; to lead him to acquire those experiences which will in after-life enable him to perform ably and rightly his duties as a worker, as a citizen, and as a member of an ethical and spiritual community organised for the securing of the well-being of the individual. and the higher the civilisation, the more difficult, the more complex, and the more lengthened must be this process of acquiring experiences necessary to fit the individual to his environment. hence, whatever the particular nature of the environment may be, the aim of education must be the fitting of the individual to his natural and social environments. hence also any organisation of the means of education must have as its threefold object the securing of the physical efficiency, of the economic efficiency, and the ethical efficiency of the rising generation. in short, as mr. bagley[ ] puts it, the securing of the social efficiency of the individual must be the ultimate aim of all education. to be socially efficient implies that as the result of the process of education certain experiences, and the power of applying them, have been acquired by each individual, so that by this means he is enabled to perform some particular social service for the community of a directly or indirectly economic nature. for if, as the result of the educative process, we establish systems of means for the realisation of ends which have no social value, then so far we have failed to make the individual socially efficient. "the youth we would train has little time to spare; he owes but the first fifteen or sixteen years of his life to his tutor, the remainder is due to action. let us employ this short time in necessary instruction. away with your crabbed, logical subtleties; they are abuses, things by which our lives can never be made better."[ ] in these words montaigne writes against the false ideal that the mere accumulation of knowledge apart from any purpose it may serve in enabling us better to understand either the world of nature or of history should be the aim of education, and throughout all education we must ever keep in mind that knowledge acquired must be capable of being used and applied for the realisation of some social purpose, otherwise it is so much useless lumber, to the individual a burden, soon dropped, to society valueless, since it can maintain and further no real interest of the community. but to be socially efficient implies not merely that the individual should be fitted to perform some service economically useful to the community, it further implies that as the result of the process of education there should have been acquired certain capacities of action which restrain him from unduly interfering with the freedom of others. he must acquire certain experiences which restrain him from hindering the full and free development of others; he must be trained to use his freedom rightly, to acquire those capacities for action which fit him to take his place in the moral cosmos of his time and generation. further, as mr. bagley also points out, to be socially efficient implies in addition that the individual should contribute something further to the advancement of the civilisation into which he is born, and thus pass on to his successors an increasing heritage. the threefold aim of all education, then, is to secure the physical, the economic, and the ethical efficiency of the future members of the community; and our educational agencies must throughout keep this threefold aspect in view. to secure the physical efficiency of the child is necessary, in the first place, because a strong, healthy, vigorous body is a good in itself, apart from the fact that without sound health the other ends of life cannot, or can be only imperfectly realised. it is an erroneous point of view to maintain that many men have done good intellectual work in spite of physical ill-health, and even in cases where there was present some physical defect. the real thing to keep in mind is that these individuals do not represent the average, and that for the normal individual weak health or the presence of physical defect lessens his intellectual and moral vigour. we can, in the light of modern psychology, no longer regard mind and body as separate entities having a development independent of each other, but must regard them as conditioning and conditioned by each other. in the second place, the care of the physical health of the child is important, because any impairment or defect in the sense organs--the avenues of experience--implies a corresponding defect or want in mental growth, and as a consequence tends to render the individual economically and socially less efficient in after-life. in the third place, and this truth is being gradually put into practice in the education of the weak-minded and of the physically defective, sound physical health is one of the conditions of right moral activity. this truth rousseau emphasised when he declared: "that the weaker the body, the more it commands; the stronger it is, the better it obeys. all the sensual passions find lodgment in effeminate bodies, and the less they are satisfied the more irritable they become. the body must needs be vigorous to obey the soul: a good servant ought to be robust." we shall inquire further into this question when we come to treat of the physical education of the child, but what we wish to point out is that one aim of all our educational efforts must be to secure the physical efficiency of the rising generation, on the grounds that sound physical health is a good in itself; is a means to the securing of the economic efficiency of the individual and of society; and is a condition of securing the ethical efficiency of the individual. in the second place, the securing of the economic efficiency of the individual must be one of the aims of our educational efforts. this does not imply that our educational curriculum should be based on purely utilitarian lines, and that all subjects whose utilitarian value is not immediately apparent should be banished from the schoolroom. but it does imply that whether in the education of the professional man or of the industrial worker all instruction either directly or indirectly must have as its final result the efficiency of the individual as a worker. an education which fits the individual to use his leisure rightly may have as much effect in increasing the productive powers of the individual as that which looks more narrowly to his technical training. further, we must remember that the larger number by far of the children of the modern state must in after-life become industrial workers, and that any system of education which neglects this fact, which makes no provision for the technical training of the children of the working classes, and has no adequate system of selecting and training those who by innate capacity are fitted to become the leaders in industry, is a system not in harmony with the characteristics of modern life, and that unless this economic efficiency is secured, then the opportunity for the development of the other ends of life cannot be secured. lastly, the securing of the ethical efficiency of the future members of the state must be one of our ultimate aims. the ethical aim of education may be said to be the supreme end, in the sense that it is the essential condition for the security, the stability, and the progress of society; and also from the fact that the ethical spirit of doing the work for the sake of the work should permeate all education. in concluding this chapter what needs to be emphasised is that while the process of education remains ever the same, ever consists in acquiring and organising experience, in and through the working of reason incited to activity by the need of satisfying some natural or acquired interest, in order that future action may be rendered more efficient, and whilst the general nature of the ends to be attained may be said to be permanent and unchangeable, yet the particular and concrete ends at which we should aim in the education of our children is a practical question which every nation has, from time to time, to ask and answer afresh in the light of her national ideals and in view of her national aspirations. nay, further, it is a question which with every necessary change in her internal organisation, and with every fundamental alteration in her relation to her external neighbours, has to be asked and answered anew by each and every state desirous of retaining her place amongst the nations of the world and of securing the welfare and happiness of her individual members. it is mainly because we as a nation have not realised this truth that our educational organisation has, neither in the explicitness and clearness of its aims, nor in the distinction, gradation, and co-ordination of its means, attained the same thoroughness and self-consistency as that possessed by the educational systems of some of our continental neighbours. footnotes: [ ] cf. professor findlay, _journal of education_ (sept. ), also "_principles of class teaching_," p. . [ ] cf. _the educative process_, chap. iii., esp. pp. , (macmillan). [ ] montaigne, _the education of children_, l. e. rector, ph.d. (_international education series_), appleton, new york. chapter iv the relation of the state to education--the provision of education the end of education is, as we have seen, the securing of the future social efficiency of the rising generation, and the method in every case is through the evoking of the reason-activity of the individual to organise and establish in the minds of the young and immature, systems of ideas which will hereafter function as means in the attainment of ends of definite social worth. the question now arises as to whether the provision and organisation of the agencies of education may be safely left to the care and self-interest of the individual parent, or whether on principle such provision is a duty which devolves upon the state. the principle of the state provision of the means of elementary education has now practically been admitted, and whether wisely or unwisely, the larger part by far of the cost of this provision now falls upon the shoulders of the general and local taxpayer. _e.g._, in england in there were six hundred and thirty-three thousand fee-paying children in the public elementary schools, and over five millions receiving their education free.[ ] further, by the education act (england) of and by the education and local taxation account (scotland) act of the same year the principle of the state aid for the provision of the means of secondary and technical education may be said also practically to have been recognised. by the former act certain imperial funds derived from the income on probate and licence duties were handed over to the councils of counties and boroughs for expenditure on the provision of the means of education other than elementary, and at the same time these bodies were empowered, if they thought it necessary, to impose a limited rate for the same purpose. in scotland at the same time a certain part of scotland's share of the "whisky" money was set aside for the provision of secondary education in urban and rural districts, and secondary education committees were appointed in the counties and principal boroughs charged with the allocation of the funds towards the aid and increase of the provision of higher education in their respective districts. but while this has been done, the question as to whether and to what extent the state should undertake the provision of the means of higher education is still one on which there is no general agreement. if it is the duty of the state to see that the provision of the means of education, elementary, secondary, technical, and university, is adequate to the attainment of the end of securing the future social efficiency of all the members of the community, then it must be admitted that the means at present provided for this purpose are totally inadequate, and that the method followed in furnishing this provision is not of a kind to ensure that the funds granted are spent in the manner best calculated to extend the agencies and to increase the efficiency of the higher education of the children of the nation. this latter objection applies more especially in the case of scotland. in that country certain nominated bodies who are responsible only to themselves and to the scotch education department are entrusted with the expenditure of the monies received for the extension of the means of higher education, and since these bodies stand in no intimate connection with the representative bodies entrusted with the control of elementary education, no efficient co-ordination of the two grades of education is possible. further, in some cases sectional interests rather than the educational interests of the district as a whole are the main motives at work in determining the distribution of the funds amongst the various bodies claiming to participate in its benefits. the uncertainty of the amount of income available for this purpose, and the limitation in england of the power of rating, might also be urged in objection to this peculiarly english method of providing the means for the higher education of the youth of the country. similar reasons to those urged prior to in favour of the state provision of elementary education may be urged in favour of the extension of the principle to higher education. these reasons are nowhere more clearly stated than in the writings of john stuart mill. in discussing the functions of government, mill lays down that education is one of those things which it is admissible on principle that a government should provide for the people, and although in adducing the reasons for the state undertaking this duty he is concerned mainly with the provision of the means of elementary education, yet looking to the altered social conditions of our own time, and taking into account the difference in the economic relations which exist now between great britain and her continental rivals, the arguments advanced by mill are no less applicable now to the extension of the principle of state provision. let us consider these arguments. in the first place, mill declares that there are "certain primary elements and means of knowledge that all human beings born into the community must acquire during childhood." if their parents have the power of obtaining for them this instruction and fail to do so, they commit a double breach of duty. the child grows up an imperfect being, socially inefficient, and members of the community are liable to suffer seriously from the consequences of this ignorance and want of education in their fellow-citizens. in the second place, mill urges that unlike that the giving of other forms of help, the provision of education is not one of the things in which the tender of help perpetuates the state of things which renders help necessary. instruction strengthens and enlarges the active faculties; its effect is favourable to the growth of the spirit of independence--it is help towards doing without help. in the third place, he declares that the question of the provision of elementary education is not one between its provision by the government on the one hand, and its provision through voluntary agencies on the other. the full cost of the education of the children of the lower working classes in great britain as in other countries has never been wholly paid for out of the wages of the labourer, and hence the question lies between the state provision of education and its provision by certain charitable agencies. as a rule, when provided by the latter, it is both inefficient in quantity and poor in quality. lastly, mill lays down that in the matter of education the intervention of government is necessary, because neither the interest nor the judgment of the consumer is a sufficient security for the goodness of the commodity. but at the same time he strenuously insists that there should be no monopoly of education by the state. it is not desirable, he declares, that a government should have complete control over the education of the people. to possess such a control and actually to exert it would be despotic. the state may, however, require that all its people shall have received a certain measure of education, but it may not prescribe from whom or where they may obtain it. at the present day, and under the changed economic conditions which now prevail, it can no longer be asserted that the imparting of the mere elements of knowledge is adequate either to secure the future social efficiency of the children of the lower classes of society or that such a modicum of instruction as is provided by our elementary schools is sufficient to protect the community from the ignorance of its ill educated and badly trained members. the "hooliganism" of many of our large cities is due to our system of half educating, half training the children of the slums, of laying too much stress on the acquisition of certain mechanical arts in our primary schools and in conceiving them as ends in themselves. further, our system of primary education fails on its moral side, and this in two ways. it seems unaware of the fact that all moral education is an endeavour to implant in the minds of the young desires that shall impel them hereafter to good rather than to evil, and that this end can only be attained in so far as the natural instinctive tendencies of the child's nature which make for good are cultivated and trained, and in so far as those other instinctive tendencies which make for social destruction are inhibited by having their character altered so as to be directed into channels which make for the social welfare. in the second place, we leave off the education of the children at too early an age. we hand over the children of the poorer classes during the most critical period of their lives to the influences of the streets and of the bad home, counteracted only by the efforts of the slum visitor or the missionary. after furnishing them with the mere instruments of knowledge, we entrust either to them or their parents the liberty of using, misusing, or non-using the instruments provided. moreover, we do nothing of a systematic nature to instil into the youth of our poorer citizens the fact that they are members of a corporate community and future citizens of a state, and that hereafter they have duties towards that state the performance of which is the only rational ground of their possession of rights as against the state. _e.g._, in many of our slums we have the best examples of individualism run mad, of the conception that the individual is a law unto his private self, and that all government is something alien, something forced upon the individual from the outside and impinging upon his private will, instead of law being what it really is, an expression of the social conditions under which the welfare of the individual and of society may be attained. further, it must be maintained that our present policy in education is economically wasteful. to spend, as we do yearly, larger and larger sums of money on the elementary education of our children, and then, in a large number of cases, to fail to reach the ends of securing either the social efficiency of the individual or the protection of society against the ignorance of its members, is surely, to say the least, unwise. again, if we really set before us this aim of the social efficiency of the future individual, we must do something to carry on the education of the children of the poorer classes after the elementary school stage has been passed. one of the strongest points in the german system of education, as compared and contrasted with our own, is the care which is taken of the higher education of the children of the working classes during the period when it is most important that some control should be exercised over the youth of the country, throughout the time when the boy is most open to temptation, and when the moral forces of society are potent for good and evil in shaping and forming his character. the great majority of the children in a modern state are and must be destined for industrial service; the great majority of the children of the working classes must, at or about the age of fourteen, leave the primary school and enter upon the learning of some trade. but manifestly at this early stage the larger number are not fitted to guide and control their own lives; and if moral education aims, as it ought to aim, at fitting the individual for freedom, at fitting him to guide and direct his own life in the light of a self-accepted and a self-directed ideal, then some measure of control, of guidance, and of regulation is necessary in the years when the child is passing from youth to manhood. now, it is this fact, this truth, which the germans as a nation have realised. they declare that it is neither wise nor prudent nor for the ultimate benefit of the state to leave the vast majority of the youth without guidance, and sometimes even without proper moral control exercised over them during the great formative period of their lives. nay, further, they believe that a state which neglects its duty here is not doing what it ought to do for the future moral good, for the future economic welfare, and for the future happiness of its individual members. hence, in several of the german states, the state control over the child does not cease when at fourteen years of age he leaves the elementary school, but is continued until the age of seventeen; and this is effected by the establishment of compulsory evening schools. in particular, by a law which came into force in berlin on the st april , every boy and girl in that city, with certain definitely specified exceptions, must attend at an evening continuation school for a minimum of not less than four hours and a maximum of not more than six hours per week. moreover, this enactment has been rendered necessary not to level up the majority, but to level up the minority. this development is a development for which the voluntary evening continuation school prepared the way; and compulsory attendance has become possible on account of the willingness of the german youth to learn, and of his desire to make himself proficient in his particular trade or profession. further, the school authorities, in this matter of compulsory attendance at an evening continuation school, have with them the hearty co-operation of the great body of employers; and the burden of seeing that the pupil attends regularly is not put upon the parent but upon the employer. by these means, and by other agencies of a voluntary character, every care is taken that the berlin youth shall have the opportunity of finding that employment for which by nature he is best suited, and that thereafter he shall learn thoroughly the particular trade or calling he may enter upon. contrast what we do, or rather what we do not do, in this matter of providing higher education for the sons and daughters of the working classes. in our large towns the great majority of our boys and girls leave the elementary school at or before the age of fourteen. in many cases the instruction given during this period soon passes away, and leaves little permanent result behind. evening continuation schools are indeed provided, but only a small proportion of our youth takes advantage of this means of further instruction. the larger number of the children of the lower working classes drift, for a year or two, into various forms of unskilled employment, chosen in most cases because the immediate pecuniary reward is here greater than in the case of learning a trade; and after spending two or three years in employments which do nothing to educate them, some drift, by accident, into this or that particular trade, while the others remain behind to swell the number of the unskilled. during this period nothing of an organised nature is done to secure the physical efficiency of the youth of our working classes; nothing or almost nothing is done to secure his future industrial efficiency; and, as a consequence, year after year, as a nation, we go on fostering an army of loafers, increasing the ranks of the unskilled workers, and even in our skilled trades adding to the number of those who are mere process workers, at the expense of producing workers acquainted both theoretically and practically with every department of their particular calling. no wonder that the delegates of the brass-workers[ ] of birmingham, contrasting what they have seen in berlin with what they daily see in their own trade at home and in their own city, bitterly declare that the berlin youth has from infancy been under better care and training at home, at school, at the works, and in the army; and consequently, as a man, he is more fitted to be entrusted with the liberty which the birmingham youth has perhaps from childhood only abused. space does not permit me to go at fuller length into this question, but before leaving the particular problem let me put the issue plainly, because it is an issue which we as a nation must soon clearly realise, and must answer in either one or other of two ways. we may go on as at present, insisting that a certain amount of elementary education is compulsory for all, and leaving it a matter for the individual parent and the individual youth to take advantage of the means of higher education provided voluntarily, and as a rule without any great direct cost to them. in this way, trusting to the voluntary agencies at work in society, we may hope that either through enlightened self-interest, or through a higher conception of the duty of the individual to the state, or through a loftier moral ideal becoming prevalent and actual in society, an increasing number of parents will see that the means provided for the higher education of their children are duly taken advantage of, and that the majority of the youth will make it their aim to use these means to secure their physical and industrial efficiency. if we adopt this course, then it must be the duty of the school authorities of the various districts to see that evening schools of various types suited to the needs of the various classes of students are duly provided, and that no insurmountable obstacles are placed in the way of those desirous and anxious to take advantage of the means of higher education. further, it must become the duty of the employers of the country to see that the youth are encouraged in every way to take advantage of instruction designed with the above-named end in view, and moreover the general public must do all in their power to co-operate with and to aid the endeavours of school authorities and employers of labour. in this way, as has been the case in berlin, the voluntary system of evening continuation and trade schools may gradually and in time pave the way for the compulsory evening school. without doubt this were the better way, if it could be effected and that quickly. but if in this matter we have delayed too long--if we have allowed our educational policy in the past to be guided by a one-sided and narrow individualism--if for too lengthened a period we have permitted our political action to be determined by the false ideal that, in the matter of providing for and furthering his education as a citizen and as an industrial worker, liberty for each individual consists in allowing him to choose for himself, regardless of whether or not that choice is for his own and the state's ultimate good, then it may be necessary in the immediate future to take steps to remove or remedy this defect in our present educational organisation. for it is necessary--essentially necessary--on various grounds that the education of the boys and girls of our working classes should not cease absolutely at the elementary school stage,[ ] but that, with certain definite and well-considered exceptions, all should continue for several years thereafter to fit themselves for industrial and social service. if this result can be effected by moral means, good and well; if not, legal compulsion must, sooner or later, be resorted to. for it is, as it has always been, a fundamental maxim of political action that the state should and must compel her members to utilise the means by which they may be raised to freedom. the second line of argument which mill follows in his advocacy of the state provision of education is that instruction is one of the cases in which the aid given does not foster and re-create the evil which it seeks to remedy. education which is really such does not tend to enervate but to strengthen the individual. its effect is favourable to the growth of independence. "it is a help towards doing without help." on similar grounds, we may urge that it is the duty of the state to see that the means for the higher education of the youth of the country are adequate in quantity and efficient in quality. the better technical training of our workmen is necessary if we are to secure their economic self-sufficiency and fit them to become socially useful as members of a community. one aim therefore underlying any future organisation of education must be to secure the industrial efficiency of the worker and to ensure that the results of science shall be utilised in the furtherance of the arts and industries of life. this can only be effected by the better scientific training, by the more intensive and the more thorough education of those children of the nation who by natural ability and industry are fitted in after-life to guide and control the industries of the country. mr. haldane,[ ] during the past few years, in season and out of season, has called the attention of the public of great britain to the fact that in the organisation and equipment of their system of technical education germany is much in advance of this country, and that the german people have thoroughly and practically realised that, if they are to compete successfully with other nations, then one of the aims of their educational system must be to teach the youth how to apply knowledge in the furtherance and advancement of the economic interests of life. with this end in view we have the establishment throughout the german states of numerous schools and colleges having as their chief aim the application of knowledge to the arts and industries. in our own country this branch--this very important branch--of education has been left, for the most part, to the care of private individuals, and although the state has done something in recent years to encourage and develop this side of education, yet much more requires to be done; and, above all, it is desirable that whatever is done in the future should be done in a regular, systematic, and organised manner and with definite aims in view. but it is not merely in the higher reaches of german education that the industrial aim is kept in view. it pervades and permeates the whole system from the lowest to the highest stages. even in the primary school the requirements of practical life are not left out of sight. in school, said a former prussian director of education, "children are to learn how to perform duties, they are to be habituated to work, to gain pleasure in work, and thus become efficient for future industrial pursuits. this has been the aim from the earliest times of prussian education; and to this day it is plainly understood by all state and local administrative officers, as well as by all teachers and the majority of the parents, that the people's school has more to do than merely teach the vehicles of culture--reading, writing, and arithmetic"--that the chief aim is rather "the preparation of citizens who can and will cheerfully serve their god and their native country as well as themselves." in the third place, the question of the provision of the means of higher education is not one between its provision on the one hand by means of the government, and on the other by means of purely voluntary agencies. higher education, _e.g._, in scotland has rarely been provided and paid for at its full cost by the individual parent or by associations of individual parents, but has been maintained, in some cases in a high degree of efficiency, by endowments left for this purpose. these endowments are now in many cases insufficient to meet the demand made for education, and the stream of private benevolence in providing the means of education has either ceased to flow or flows in an irregular and uncertain fashion. further, the incomes of even the moderately well-to-do of our middle classes are not sufficient to bear the whole cost of the more expensive education required to fit their sons and daughters for the after-service of the community. hence, just as in mill's time the question of the provision of elementary education lay between the state provision and the provision by means of charitable agencies, so to-day the problem of the provision of secondary and technical education is between its adequate provision and organisation by the state, and its inadequate, uncertain provision by means of the endowments of the past and by the charitable agencies of the present. manifestly, in the light of modern conditions, with the economic competition between nation and nation becoming keener and keener, and knowing full well that the future belongs to the nation with the best equipped and the best trained army of industrial workers, we can no longer rest content with any haphazard method of providing the means of higher education: whatever the cost may be, we must realise that the time has come to put our educational house in order and to establish and organise our system of higher education so that it will subserve each and every interest of the state. this can only be effected in so far as the nation as a whole realises the need for the better education of the children, and takes steps to secure that this shall be provided, and that there shall be afforded to each the opportunity of fitting himself by education to put his talents to the best use both for his own individual good and the good of the community. lastly, as mill urges, the self-interest of the individual is neither sufficient to ensure that the education will be provided, nor in many cases is his judgment sufficient to ensure the goodness of the education provided by voluntary means. but, in addition to the reasons urged by mill for the state provision and control of the means of elementary education, and these reasons are, as we have seen, as urgent and as cogent to-day for the extension of the principle to the provision of the means of secondary and technical education, still further reasons may be advanced. in the first place, there can be no co-ordination of the different stages of education until all the agencies of instruction in each area or district are placed under one central control. until this is effected we must have at times overlapping of the agencies of instruction. in some cases there may also be waste of the means of education. in every case there will be a general want of balance between the various parts of the system. in the second place, one object of any organisation of the means of education should be the selection of the best ability from amongst the children of our elementary schools and the further education of this ability at some one or other type of intermediate or secondary school. in order that this may be economically and efficiently effected, the instruction of the elementary school should enable the pupil at a certain age to fit himself into the work of the high school, and our high schools' system should be so differentiated in type as to furnish not one type of such education but several in accordance with the main classes of service required by the community of its adult members. manifestly such a co-ordination of the means and such a grading of the agencies of education, if not impossible on the voluntary principle, is at least difficult of complete realisation. hence, on the ground that the higher education of the young is necessary for the securing of their after social efficiency, on the ground that it is necessary for the economic and social security of the community, on the ground that aid in higher education is a help towards doing without help and that its provision in many cases cannot be fully met by the voluntary contribution of the individual, we may urge the need for the state's undertaking its adequate and efficient provision. further, we must remember that the state must take a "longer" view of the problem of education than is possible for the individual. at best the latter looks but one generation ahead. he is content to secure the education and the future welfare of his children. in the life of the state this is not sufficient. she must look to the needs of the remote future as well as of the immediate present, and hence her educational outlook must be wider and go farther than that of any mere private individual. lastly, if we understand the true nature and function of the state, we need have no fear that the state should control the education of all the people. what we have to fear on the one side is the bureaucratic control of education, and on the other its control and direction by one class in the interests of itself. the state exists for--the reason of its very being is to secure--the welfare of the individual, and the state approaches its perfection when its organisation is fitted to secure and ensure the widest scope for the full and free development of each individual. the evil of bureaucracy can be removed only by our representative bodies becoming more effective voices of the social and moral will of the community, just as the evil of class control can only be effectually abolished by the rise and spread of the true democratic spirit, ever seeking that the agencies of the state shall be directed towards the removing of the obstacles which hinder the full realisation of the life of each of its members. footnotes: [ ] cf. graham balfour, _educational system of great britain_, p. , nd ed. [ ] _brass-workers of berlin and birmingham_ (king). [ ] "it must not be forgotten that the instruction of the common schools (_volksschule_), closing with the pupil's fourteenth year, ends too soon, that the period most susceptible to aid, most in need of education, the years from fifteen to twenty ... are now not only allowed to lie perfectly fallow, but to lose and waste what has been so laboriously acquired during the preceding period at school." in the rural parts of northern germany efforts are being made to remedy this evil by the institution of schools providing half-year winter courses. cf. professor paulsen's _the german universities and university study_, p. (english translation). [ ] cf. _education and empire_. chapter v the relation of the state to education--the cost of education but while we may hold that it is the duty of the state to see that the means for the education of the children of the nation is both adequate in extent and efficient in quality, and so organised that it affords opportunities for each to secure the education which is needed to equip him for his after-work in life, it by no means follows as a logical consequence that the whole cost of this provision should be borne by the community in its corporate capacity and that the individual parent should, if he so chooses, be relieved from any direct payment for the education of his children. to assert this would be implicitly to affirm that the education of a man's children is no part of his duty--that it is an obligation which does not fall upon him as an individual, but only as a member of a community, and that so long as he pays willingly the proportion of the cost of education assigned to him by taxes and rates, he has fulfilled his obligation. education, on such a view, becomes a matter of national concern in which as a private individual the parent has no direct interest. this position carried out to its logical conclusion would imply that the child and his future belong wholly to the state, and it would also involve the establishment of a communal system of education such as is set forth in the _republic_ of plato. further, such a position logically leads to the contention that the other necessities of life requisite for securing the social efficiency of the future members of the state should also be provided by the state in its corporate capacity acting as the guardian of the young, and from this we are but a short way from the position that it belongs to the community to superintend the propagation of the species, and to regulate the marriages of its individual members. this is state socialism in its most extreme form, and is contrary to the spirit of a true liberalism, a true democracy, and a true christianity. the opposing position--the position of liberalism untainted by socialism--is that it is the duty of the state to see that as far as possible the social inequalities which arise through the individualistic organisation of society are removed or remedied, and that equality of opportunity is secured to each to make the best of his own individual life. in the educational sphere this implies that any obstacles in the way of a man's educating his children should be removed, if and in so far as these obstacles are irremovable by any private effort of his own, and that the opportunity of obtaining the best possible education should be open to the children of the poor if they are fitted by nature to profit by such an education. it further implies that the means of higher education, provided at the public expense, should not be wasted on the children of any class if by nature they are unfitted to benefit by the means placed at their disposal; _i.e._, a national system of education must be democratic in the sense that the means of higher education shall be open to all, rich and poor, in order that each individual may be enabled to fit himself for the particular service for which by nature he is best suited. it must see, further, that any obstacles which prevent the full use of these means by particular individuals are, as far as may be possible, removed. a national system of education, on the other hand, must be aristocratic in the sense that it is selective of the best ability. lastly, it must be restrictive, in order that the means of higher education may be utilised to the best advantage, and not misused on those who are unfitted to benefit therefrom. closely connected with the position that it is the duty of the state to see not merely to the adequate and efficient provision of the means of education, but also that the whole cost of the provision should be borne by the state, is the contention that because the state imposes a legal obligation upon the individual parent to provide a certain measure of education for his children, it is also a logical conclusion from this step that education should be free. "the object of public education is the protection of society, and society must pay for its protection, whether it takes the form of a policeman or a pedagogue."[ ] but the provision of the means of elementary education, and the imposing of a legal obligation upon each individual parent to utilise the means provided, is not merely or solely for the protection of society. education confers not only a social benefit upon the community, but a particular benefit upon the individual. its provision falls not within the merely negative benefits conferred by the state by its protection of the majority against the ignorance and wickedness of the minority, but it belongs to the positive benefits conferred by government upon its individual members. the state in part undertakes the provision of the means of education, as mill pointed out, in order to protect the majority against the evil consequences likely to result from the ignorance and want of education of the minority. as this provision confers a common benefit on all, so far, but only in so far, as education is protective, can its cost be laid upon the shoulders of the general taxpayer. but the provision by the state of the means of education is not merely undertaken for the protection of any given society against the ignorance and the lawlessness of its own individual members, it is also undertaken in order to secure the increased efficiency of the nation as an economic and military unit in antagonism, more or less, with similar units. at the present day this is one main motive at work in the demand made for the better and more intensive training of the industrial classes. to secure the industrial and military efficiency of the nation is explicitly set forth as the main aim of the german organisation of the means of education. we may deplore this tendency of our times. we may condemn the rise of the intensely national spirit of the modern world, and regret that the ideal of universal peace and universal harmony between the nations of the earth seems to fade for ever and for ever as we move. but we have to look the facts in the face, and to realise that the educational system of a nation must endeavour to secure the industrial and military efficiency of its future members as a means of security and protection against other competing nations and as one of the essential conditions for the self-preservation of the particular state in that war of nation against nation which hobbes so eloquently describes: "for the nature of war, consists not in actual fighting; but in the known disposition thereto, during all the time there is no assurance to the contrary."[ ] in so far, then, as the provision of education by the state is undertaken with this end in view, it may be maintained that part, at least, of the cost of its provision should be borne by the general taxpayer in return for the greater national and economic security which he enjoys through the greater efficiency of the nation as an economic and military unit. but the spread and the higher efficiency of education confers in addition both a local and an individual benefit. it confers a local benefit, in so far as by its means advantages accrue to any particular district. it confers an individual benefit, in so far as through the means of education placed at his disposal the individual is enabled to attain to a higher degree of social efficiency than would otherwise have been possible. further, if we look at this question not from the point of view of benefit received, but from that of the obligation imposed, we reach a similar result. it is an obligation upon the state to see that the means of education and their due co-ordination and organisation are of such a nature both in extent and in quality as to furnish a complete system of means for the training up of the youth of the country to perform efficiently all the services required by such a complex community as the modern state. this duty devolves upon the state chiefly for the reason set forth by adam smith in his discussion of the functions of government. it is the duty of the sovereign, he declares, to erect and maintain certain "public institutions which it can never be for the interest of any individual to erect and maintain, because the profit could never repay the expense to the individual, or small number of individuals, though it may frequently do much more than repay it to a great society."[ ] it becomes further an obligation placed upon the local authority to aid the central authority of the state in the establishment and distribution of the means of education. the local authority by its more intimate knowledge of local circumstances is the most competent to judge of the nature of the education suited to serve its own particular needs, and is best qualified to undertake the distribution of the means. but the obligation to take advantage of the means for the future benefit of his children is a moral obligation placed upon the shoulders of the individual parent. it becomes a legal obligation only when, and in so far as, the moral obligation is not realised by a certain number of the community. certainly one reason for the making of the education of a man's children a legal obligation is the protection of society against the ignorance and wickedness of the minority, but the other and principal aim is to endeavour to secure that what at first was imposed as a merely external or legal obligation may pass into a moral and inherent obligation, so that the individual from being governed by outward restraint may in time be governed by an inward and self-imposed ideal. it is no doubt difficult in any particular case to determine exactly what precise part of the cost should be allocated to each of the three benefiting parties, but in any national organisation of the means of education this threefold distribution of cost should somehow or other be undertaken. from this it follows, that while it may legitimately be laid down that upon the state must fall the obligation of securing the adequate provision and the due distribution of the means of education, yet the further duty of the state in this respect is limited to the removing of obstacles which stand in the way of the fulfilment of the parent's obligation to educate his children, and to the securing to each child equality of opportunity to obtain an education in kind and quality which will serve to fit him hereafter to perform his special duty to society. although since elementary education has been practically free in this country and the whole cost of its provision is now undertaken at the public expense, yet except from the socialistic position that the provision of education is a communal and not a personal and moral obligation, this public provision of the funds for elementary education can be upheld from the individualistic point of view only on two grounds. in the first place, it might be maintained that the protective benefit derived from the imparting of the elements of education is so great to all that its cost may legitimately be laid upon the community in its corporate capacity. it is on this ground of education being beneficial to the whole society that adam smith declares that the expense of the institutions for education may, without injustice, be defrayed by the general contributions of the whole society. but at the same time adam smith recognises that education provides an immediate and personal benefit, and that the expense might with equal propriety be laid upon the shoulders of those benefited. in the second place, it may be maintained that the imposition of school fees created such a hindrance in a large number of cases to the fulfilment of the moral obligation that it was expedient on the part of the state to remove this obstacle by freeing education as a whole. in support of this, it might be further urged that the difficulty of discriminating between the marginal cases in which the imposition of school fees really proved a hindrance and those in which it did not is great, and that the partial relief of payment of school fees laid the stigma of pauperism upon many who from unpreventable causes were unable to meet the direct cost of the education of their children. but, except on the grounds that either the protective benefit to society is so great and so important, or that the charging of any part of the cost directly to the parent imposes a hindrance in a large number of cases, there is no justification for the contention that because the state compels the individual to educate his children, therefore the state should fully provide the means. if this be so, then the further contention that the means of education from the elementary to the university stage should be provided at the public expense, and that no part of the cost should be laid directly upon the individual parent's shoulders, must also be judged to be erroneous. the first duty of the state, in the matter of the provision of higher education, is limited to seeing that the provision of the means of higher education is adequate to the demand made for it; further, it may endeavour to encourage and to stimulate this demand in various ways. the means being provided, the second duty of the state is to endeavour to secure that any hindrance which might reasonably prevent the use of these means by those fitted to benefit therefrom should be removed. but the only justification for the interference of the state is that the compulsion exacted in the matter of taxes or otherwise is of small moment compared with the capacity for freedom and intellectual development set free in the individuals benefited. in other words, the cost involved by the removal of the hindrance must be reckoned as small compared with the ultimate good to the community as manifested in the higher development--in the higher welfare of its individual members. but the practical realisation of the ideal need not involve that education should be free from the lowest to the topmost rung of the so-called educational ladder. it is indeed questionable whether the ladder simile has not been a potent instrument in giving a wrong direction to our ideals of the essential nature of what an educational organisation should aim at. education should indeed provide a system of advancing means, but the system of means may lead to many and various aims instead of one. however that may be, what we wish to insist upon is that the state's duty in this matter can be fulfilled not by freeing education as a whole, but by establishing a system of bursaries or allowances, enabling each individual who otherwise would be hindered from using the means to take advantage of the higher education provided. in the awarding of aid of this nature, the two tests of ability to profit from the education and of need of material means must both be employed. if the former test only is applied, then the result is that in many cases the advantage is secured by those best able to pay for higher education. if the objection be made that the granting of aid on mere need shown is to place the stigma of pauperism upon the recipient, then the only answer is that in so thinking the individual misconceives the real nature of the aid, fails to understand that it is help towards doing without help--aid to enable the individual to reach a higher and fuller development of his powers, both for his own future welfare and for the betterment of society. footnotes: [ ] _national education and national life_, ibid. p. . [ ] hobbes, _leviathan_, p. . chap. xiii. [ ] adam smith, _wealth of nations_, ed. j. shield nicholson (nelsons). chapter vi the relation of the state to education--medical examination and inspection of school children in considering the question of the relation of the state to education, we have adopted the position that it is the duty of the state to see to the adequate provision of the means of education, to their due distribution and to their proper organisation. at the same time we found that the obligation of the state in this respect did not necessarily involve that the whole cost of this provision should be borne at the public expense, and that no part of the burden should be placed on the shoulders of the individual parents. as regards the provision of elementary education, we indeed found that the whole burden might be legitimately laid upon the general taxpayer, upon the grounds either that the protective benefit of elementary education to the community was great, or that the hindrance opposed by the imposition of school fees to the fulfilment of a man's moral obligation to provide for the education of his children was so general that a case might be made out for freeing elementary education as a whole. but except from the position that the provision of education was a communal and not a personal obligation, we found no grounds for the contention that education throughout its various stages should be a charge upon the community as a whole. but the provision of the means of education may involve much more than the mere provision of adequately equipped school buildings and of fully trained teachers, and we have now to inquire what other provision is necessary in order to secure the after social efficiency of the children of the nation, and what part of this provision rightly may be included within the scope of the duties of the state. is the medical inspection of children attending public elementary schools one of these duties, and, if so, what action on the part of the state does this involve? the importance of the thorough and systematic medical examination of children attending school as a necessary measure to secure their after physical and economic efficiency as well as for their intellectual development and welfare during the school period has been recognised by many continental countries. to take but one or two illustrative examples, we may note that in brussels every place of public instruction is visited at least once in every ten weeks by one of the sixteen doctors appointed for this purpose. the school doctor amongst other duties has to report on the state of the various classrooms, their heating, lighting and ventilation, and also upon the condition in which he has found the playgrounds, lavatories and cloakrooms attached to the school. cases of illness involving temporary absence from school are reported to him as well as the cases involving prolonged absence from school. children are medically examined upon admission to school, and a record is made of their age, height, weight, chest measurement, etc. "any natural or accidental infirmity is chronicled, state of eyes and teeth, dental operations performed at school, etc. this examination is repeated annually, so as to keep a record of each child's physical development." great attention, moreover, is paid to the cleanliness of the children attending school, and the children are examined daily by the teacher upon their entrance to school.[ ] in most of the large towns of germany a system of periodical medical examination and inspection of children attending school has also been established. _e.g._, in berlin appointed ten doctors for this purpose, with the following amongst other duties:-- . to examine children on their first admission as to their fitness to attend school. . to examine children with the co-operation of a specialist for the presence of defect in the particular sense organs (sight, hearing). . to examine children who are supposed to be defective and who may require special treatment. . to examine periodically the school buildings and arrangements and to report on any hygienic defects.[ ] in england, although there is no specific provision for the incurring of the expense of conducting the medical inspection of children attending the public elementary schools, it is generally held that the expense may be legitimately included in the general powers assigned to educational authorities under the act of ; and, especially since , in several areas, a definite system of medical inspection has been established, and in many others there is a likelihood that some system of medical inspection will be organised in the immediate future. according to the report of the inter-departmental committee on the medical inspection and feeding of school children, published in november , out of local education authorities, had established a more or less definitely organised system of medical examination, whilst in eighteen other districts teachers and sanitary officers had undertaken organised work for the amelioration of the physical condition of children attending public elementary schools. as a rule, this inspection is limited "to the examination of the children and to the discovering of defects of eyesight, hearing, or physical development." when the existence of the defect is discovered, the parent is notified, but as a general rule the public authority does not include within its duties the treatment of the ailments and defects or the provision of remedial instruments when required. further, in no case has there been carried out a thorough anthropometric record, such as that in vogue in the schools of brussels, of the condition of the physical nature of the child upon admission to school and his subsequent physical development. in scotland we find no general or adequate system of medical inspection carried out by the local school authorities. the report of the royal commission on physical training (scotland), issued in march , declares, however, that such a system is urgently needed, mainly for remedial purposes. by this means defects in the organs of sight or hearing, in mental development, in physical weakness, or in state of nutrition, such as demand special treatment in connection with school work, might be detected, and by simple means removed or mitigated. but although in the education (scotland) bill of provision was made for the institution of medical inspection at the public expense, yet through the failure of the bill to pass nothing of a systematic nature has been done to organise the medical inspection of elementary school children in any district in scotland. from this brief account of what either has been already done or is proposed to be done, it is apparent that there is a gradual awakening of the nation to the fact that the care of the physical nature of the child during the school period is of fundamental importance from the point of view of the future welfare and efficiency of the nation. in the endeavour to reach this aim it is necessary that the examination of the child should be undertaken in a systematic manner, and that means should be adopted for the remedy of any defects. in particular every child on admission to school should be examined in order to discover whether there is any defect present in the special organs of sense,[ ] and periodical examinations should be made in order to discover whether the school work is tending to produce any injury to the various senses. for it is a well-known fact that often cases of seeming stupidity and seeming carelessness are not due either to the want of intelligence on the one hand or of inattention on the other, on the part of the child, but may be traced to slight defects of eyesight and of hearing. in order that they may discover these defects teachers ought to be trained in the observation of the main symptoms which imply defects, and should be practised in the art of applying the simpler and more obvious remedies for eye and ear defects. more difficult cases should be referred to the medical officer of the school. again, it ought to be a matter of inquiry at the beginning of the school period as to whether the child possesses any physical defect which would make it difficult for him to undertake the full work of the school. in some cases it would be found that the child was altogether unable to undertake this work, and measures should be taken to remedy the defect before the child enters upon the school course. lastly, it is now realised that more attention must be paid to the differences that exist between individual children, and that in the case of children with a low degree of intelligence it is much better both for themselves and for the school generally to institute special classes or special schools for their education. but in order that this medical examination may be thoroughly and systematically carried out, special legislative authority must be given to education authorities to incur expense under this head, and regulations must be laid down by the central authority for the carrying out of this inspection so as to secure something like a uniform system of examination throughout the country. for this purpose there should be attached to each school area a medical officer, or officers, charged with the sole duty of attending to the hygienic conditions under which the school work is carried on, and of periodically examining the children attending the schools of his district. that the duty of carrying out the medical examination of school children falls upon the state and should be met out of public funds may be justified on various grounds. in the first place, it is necessary as a measure of protection, in order to prevent the child's growing up imperfectly, and thus becoming in adult life a less efficient member of society. school work often accentuates certain troubles, and these if neglected tend gradually to render the individual more and more unfitted to undertake some special occupation in after-life. any eye specialist could furnish evidence of numerous cases in which the eyes have been ruined through some slight defect becoming intensified through misuse. in the second place, the examination for physical and mental defect cannot in a large number of cases be left to the self-interest and judgment of the individual parent, and unless undertaken by the public authority will not be undertaken at all. in the third place, if it is left to merely voluntary agencies, it is imperfectly done, and in many cases recourse is had to the various voluntary agencies when the trouble has become acute, and in some cases impossible of remedy. on these three grounds--of its necessity for the future public welfare, that the self-interest of the parent often proves but a feeble motive power, and that the voluntary agencies placed at the disposal of the poor are unable systematically to undertake this work--we may maintain that the duty may legitimately be laid upon the state. but the further question as to how far it becomes the duty of the state to undertake the provision of remedial measures either in the way of supplying medical aid or in the provision in necessitous cases of remedial measures, as _e.g._ spectacles in the case of defective eyesight, is a question of much greater difficulty. at present any positive help of this nature is the exception rather than the rule, and is undertaken by agencies worked on the voluntary principle, and the remedial measures adopted are limited to the treatment of certain minor ailments. _e.g._, in liverpool, birmingham, and other places, queen's nurses regularly visit the schools, and undertake either in school or at the homes of the children simple curative treatment of minor surgical cases. but while it may be held that the duty of the state is limited to the medical examination of school children in order to discover the presence of physical and mental defects, and that this being done, any further responsibility, whether in the way either of providing or procuring remedies, falls upon the individual parent, yet we have sufficient evidence to show that, in many cases, either through the poverty or the apathy and indifference of the parents, no steps are taken in the way of providing the necessary remedies, and as a consequence we have growing up in our midst children who in after-life will, through the lack of simple curative treatment undertaken at the proper time, become more or less socially inefficient. moreover, it is to be noted that in this matter the state has already recognised its public obligation to provide remedial aid in its provision for the education and lodging of the blind, the deaf and the dumb, and in the measures taken within recent years for the special education of the defective and the epileptic. the provision for these purposes may indeed be justified on the grounds that the expense of the education of children of the industrial classes so afflicted is beyond the powers of any one individual, or group of individuals, to supply, and that unless undertaken by the state it would not be efficiently made, with the consequence of throwing the maintenance hereafter of these particular classes upon the community: on the ground, therefore, of the future protective benefit to society, such expense may be legitimately laid upon the community as a whole. further, in these cases, the danger of the weakening of the sense of parental responsibility is not an extreme danger to the commonwealth, since the aid is definitely limited to a restricted number of cases, and since the moral obligation imposed upon the individual to provide for the education of his children could in many cases not be fulfilled without the by far greater portion of the expense being provided by means of public or voluntary aid. in like manner, the expense of the special education of the morally defective in industrial schools and in other institutions may be justified on the ground of the present and future protective benefit to society. in these cases parental government has either altogether ceased or become too weak to act as an effective restraining force, and as a consequence the community for its own self-preservation has to undertake the control and education of the actual or incipient youthful criminal. in their report the royal commissioners on physical training (scotland) sadly declare that industrial and similar institutions certainly give the boys and girls who come under their influence advantages in feeding and physical training which are not open to the children of independent and respectable though poor parents. _the contrast between the condition of children as seen in the poorer day schools and children in industrial institutions, whose parents have altogether failed to do their duty, is both marked and painful._[ ] and yet it might be urged that the protective benefit likely to be derived in the future by the provision of remedial means for the removal of the simpler defects in the case of the children of parents unable without great difficulty to supply these themselves is no less evident than in the more extreme cases. but here the only sound principle of guidance is to ask whether the remedial measures required are reasonably within the power of the parent to provide. if they are not, no community which exercises a wise forethought will suffer children to grow up gradually becoming more and more defective, more and more likely in after-life to be a burden upon its resources. but this question of the provision of remedial aid involves a much larger question, which we shall now discuss. appendix as showing the need for the systematic examination of the special sense organs, i append a summary of the results arrived at and the conclusions reached by dr. wright thomson after examination of the eyesight of children attending the public elementary schools under the glasgow school board:-- "the teachers tested the visual acuteness of , children, and found , , or per cent., to be below what is regarded as the normal standard. "i examined the , defectives by retinoscopy, and found that , , or per cent. of the whole, had ocular defects. "the percentage with ocular defects was fairly constant in all the schools, but the percentage with defective vision was very variable--_i.e._, many children with normal eyes were found to see badly. "the proportion of these cases was highest in the poor and closely-built districts and in old schools, and was lowest in the better class schools and in those near the outskirts of the city. "the proportion of such cases in the country schools of chryston and cumbernauld was much lower than in any of the city schools; and in industrial schools, where the children are fed at school, the proportion was lower than among board school children of a corresponding social class. "defective vision, apart from ocular defect, seems to be due, partly to want of training of the eyes for distant objects, and partly to exhaustion of the eyes, which is easily induced when work is carried on in bad light, or the nutrition of the children defective from bad feeding and unhealthy surroundings. "regarding training of the eyes for distant objects, much might be done in the infant department by the total abolition of sewing, which is definitely hurtful to such young eyes, and the substitution of competitive games involving the recognition of small objects at a distance of feet or more. "teachers can determine the visual acuteness, but they cannot decide whether or not an ocular defect is present. "visual acuteness, especially among poor children, is variable at different times. "teachers should have access to sight-testing materials at all times, and should have the opportunity of referring suspected cases for medical opinion. "an annual testing by the teachers, followed by medical inspection of the children found defective, would soon cause all existing defects to be corrected, and would lead to the detection of those which develop during school life." an examination of children attending the church of scotland training college school, glasgow, as regards defects in eyesight and hearing, was made by drs. rowan and fullerton respectively, with the following results:-- "as regards eyesight-- " . per cent. were passed as normal, while of those defective . were aware of the fact; some few of these had already received treatment, but . were quite unaware that there was anything wrong, these unfortunates being expected to do the same work as, and hold their own with, their more fortunate classmates. "as regards hearing-- . per cent. were found normal. . " " were defective. . " " were distinctly defective." i append the very valuable suggestions and conclusions of dr. rowan, who conducted the examination on the eyesight of children:-- "after examining children, which involved the examination of eyes, one is forced to certain conclusions. these children are taken at random, and in this way they may be considered as a fair sample of their age and class. "i think one of the first things that force themselves on our notice is the difficulties under which many of those children labour, and of which they, their parents and teachers are quite unaware. the children are considered dull, careless, or lazy, as the case may be: they themselves, poor unfortunates, do not know how to complain, and seem just to struggle along as best they can, though this struggle, without adequate result, must discourage them, and in this indirect way, too, make their future prospects more hopeless. "some would be considerably benefited by treatment and operation, or both, while for some little can be done. some of those who could be benefited are deprived of help by their parents' ignorance or prejudice. "in the case of those for whom little or nothing can be done, and whose sight is very defective, it seems to me the question ought to be raised as to whether their present mode of education should not be replaced by some other, which would endeavour to develop their abilities in other ways than through their eyesight; in short, they should have special training with the view of fitting them for some form of employment for which they are more fitted than the ordinary occupations of everyday life. this raises a difficult question, and each case would have to be settled on its merits. the difficulty must be faced; otherwise the children will simply drift and become idle and useless, while, if educated, at any rate partly, on the system for the blind, they would become useful members of society. "i think no one, after studying the result of this examination of what may be by some considered a small number of children, can doubt that a thorough medical examination of all school children should be made when they enter school, and this examination repeated at regular intervals. "i hold this applies not only to the children of the poor, but to children in all ranks of life, as one constantly, and that, too, in private practice, meets with cases where children are considered dull and lazy, while the real fault lies with the parents, who have not taken the trouble to ascertain the physical fitness or unfitness of their children. "i am glad to say it is now becoming more common for children to be taken to the family doctor, to a specialist, or to both, to be thoroughly overhauled before starting school-life; and in many cases with most satisfactory results, as their training can be modified or treatment ordered which prevents the development of those pathological conditions which, in many cases, would limit the choice of occupation, or, if these are already present, they can at least be modified or even overcome. "i wish to emphasise the fact that those thorough medical examinations should be repeated in the case of all children at regular intervals, as in this way alone can a proper physical standard be maintained, and deviations from the normal detected promptly and in many cases cured before the sufferer is aware of their presence. "how often in examining our adult patients do we find them much surprised when they are told and convinced by actual proof that all their life they have depended on one eye only! this fact, of course, they sometimes accidentally discover for themselves, and come with the statement that the eye has suddenly gone blind. in the majority of these cases the weaker eye is useless, and the possibility of making it of any use is, at their age, practically _nil_." footnotes: [ ] cf. _special report on educational subjects_, vol. ii. [ ] cf. _report on elementary schools of berlin and charlottenburg_, by g. andrew, esq. [ ] cf. appendix, pp. - . [ ] _report royal commission on physical training_ (_scotland_), vol. i. (neill & co,. edinburgh). chapter vii the relation of the state to education--the feeding of school children a much more important and far-reaching question than that of the state provision for the medical examination and inspection of children attending public elementary schools is the question of whether, and to what extent, the state should undertake the provision of school meals for underfed children. of the existence of the evil of under and improper feeding of children, especially in many of our large towns, there is no doubt. the numerous voluntary agencies which have been brought into existence to cope with the former are sufficient evidence that the evil exists and that it is of a widespread nature. again, the high rate of infant mortality amongst the children of the lower classes is largely due to ignorance on the part of parents of the nature and proper preparation of food suitable for children. further, the social conditions under which many of the poor live in our large towns is a contributing cause of this improper feeding. in many cases there is no adequate provision in the home for the cooking and preparation of food, and in others the absence of the mother at work during the day necessitates the children "fending" for themselves in the providing of their meals. however, in considering this question we must carefully distinguish between three distinct causes operating to produce the condition of underfeeding, and as a consequence resulting in three distinct classes of underfed children. as the causes or groups of causes are different in nature, so the remedies also vary in character. moreover, in many cases we find all three causes operating, now one and now the other, to produce the chronic underfeeding of the child. in the first place, the underfeeding of the child may arise through the temporary poverty of the parent due to his temporary illness or temporary unemployment. in normal circumstances, in these cases relief is best afforded by means of the voluntary agencies of society. in abnormal circumstances, such as are caused by a widespread depression of industry, the evil may be met by a special effort on the part of the voluntary agencies or by municipalities or other bodies providing temporary relief-work. in the second place, the underfeeding of the child may be due to the chronic and permanent poverty of the parent. the wages of the breadwinner even when in full work may be insufficient to afford adequate support for a numerous family. this condition of things is not peculiar to great britain, but is a common characteristic in the life of the poor of all civilised nations. this is where the real sting of the problem of underfeeding lies, and the causes at work tending to produce this condition of things are too deep-seated and too widely spread to be removed by any one remedy. moreover, in endeavouring to cure this disease of the commonwealth we are ever in danger of perpetuating and intensifying the causes at work tending to produce the evil. in the third place, the underfeeding of the child may arise through the indifference, the selfishness, or the vice of the parents. in such cases the parents could feed their children, but do not. manifestly in cases of this character there is no obligation placed upon the state and no rightful claim upon any charitable agency to provide food for the children. to give aid simply weakens further the parental sense of responsibility, and leaves a wider margin to be spent on vicious pleasures. but while there is no obligation placed upon the state to provide the necessaries of life for the child, there is need and justification in such cases for the intervention of the state. there is need, for otherwise the child suffers through the criminal neglect of the parents, and the community must interfere for the sake of the future social efficiency of the individual and of the nation. there is justification, for here as in the case of the parents of the morally defective, parental responsibility has either ceased to act or become too weak a motive force to be effective in securing the welfare of the child. as the individual parent neglects his duty, so and to the corresponding degree to which this neglect extends, must the duty be enforced by the state. but in the enforcing of this or of any duty we must be quite sure that the neglect is really due to the weakened sense of responsibility of the parent, that it is a condition of things which he could remove if he had the moral will to do so, and that the neglect is not due to causes beyond the power of the parent to remove. cases in which there is culpable neglect of the child due not to poverty, but to the fact that the money which should go to the proper nutrition of the child is squandered in drink, or on other enervating pleasures, are therefore cases in which recourse must be had to measures which enforce upon the parent the obligation to feed and clothe his children. the really difficult question is as to the best means of enforcing this obligation. manifestly to punish by fine or imprisonment does little in many cases to alleviate the sufferings of the children. the punishment falls upon them as well as upon the parent, and where the latter is dead to, or careless of, the public opinion of his fellows, it fails to initiate that reform of conduct which ought to be the aim of all punishment. if indeed by imposition of fine, or by imprisonment, the individual realises his neglect of duty, repents, and as a consequence reforms, then good and well, but as a rule the neglect of the child is in such cases a moral disease of long standing and not easily cured, and so we find often that neither punishment by fine nor imprisonment, even when repeated several times, is effective in making the parent realise his responsibility and reform his conduct. all the while the child goes on suffering. he is no better fed during the period of fine or imprisonment, and the wrath of the parent is often visited upon his unoffending head. the second method of cure proposed is to feed the children at the public expense and to recover the cost by process of law. but the practical difficulties in carrying out this plan are similar in kind to those formerly experienced in the recovery of unpaid school fees. the cost of recovering is often greater than the expense involved, and as a consequence local authorities are not inclined to prosecute. further, there is the difficulty of discriminating between underfeeding due to wilful and culpable neglect and underfeeding due to the actual chronic poverty of the parent. if this plan is to be effective, some simpler method of recovery of cost than that which now prevails must be adopted. _e.g._, it might be enacted that the sum decreed for should be deducted from the weekly wages of the parent by his employer. here again many difficulties would present themselves in the carrying out of this plan. in the case of certain employments this could not be done. in other cases, employers would be unwilling to undertake the invidious task. moreover, the cost of collection might equal or be greater than the cost incurred. above all, such a method would do little to alleviate the sufferings and better the nutrition of the child. in most cases the school provides but one meal a day. experience has shown that in the case of children of the dissolute the free meal at the school means less food at home. were the cost deducted from the weekly wages of the parent, the result would be intensified. so great have been the difficulties felt in this matter that with one or two exceptions no foreign country has made the attempt to recover the cost of feeding from the parent. yet the disease requires a remedy. the evil is too dangerous to the future social welfare of the community to be allowed to go on unchecked and unremedied. moreover, to endeavour to educate the persistently underfed children of our slums is to do them a twofold injury. by the exercises of the school we use up, in many cases, with little result, the small store of energy lodged in the brain and nervous system of the child, and leave nothing either for the repair of the nervous system or for the growth of his body generally. we prematurely exhaust his nervous system, and by so doing we hinder his bodily growth and development. to make matters worse, we often insist that the child in order to aid his physical development must undergo an exhausting system of physical exercises when what is most wanted for this purpose is good and nourishing food and a sufficiency of sleep. at the same time that we are neglecting the nutrition of his body we are spending an increasing yearly sum on the so-called education of his mind. what, then, is the remedy? if fining and imprisonment of the parent only accentuate the sufferings of the child, if they fail to make the parent realise his responsibility and reform his conduct, if the provision of a free meal at school means less food at home, then there is only one thorough-going remedy for the evil, and that is to take the child away from the parent, to educate and feed him at the public expense, and to recover the cost as far as possible from the parent. in norway this drastic method has been adopted. under a law passed on the th january , the authorities are empowered "to place neglected children in suitable homes or families at the cost of the municipality, the parent, however, being liable, if called upon, to defray the cost."[ ] the reasons for taking this extreme step are obvious. by no method of punishing the persistently dissolute and neglectful parent can you be assured of securing the proper nutrition and welfare of the child. parental affection in these cases is dead, and parental responsibility for the present and future welfare of the child has ceased to act as a motive force. as a consequence, the child grows up to be, at best, socially inefficient, and liable in later life to be a burden upon the community. in many cases, the evil and sordid influences of his home and social environment soon check any springs of good in his nature, and more than likely he becomes in later life not merely a socially inefficient member of the community but an active socially destructive agent. hence, on the ground of the future protective benefit to society, on the ground of securing the future social efficiency of the individual, on the ground that it is only by some such system we can ever hope to raise the moral efficiency of the rising generation of the slums, the method above advocated is worthy of consideration. against the adoption of such a method of treatment of the dissolute parent many objections may be urged, and it would be foolish to minimise the dangers which might follow its systematic and thorough carrying into practice. but the possible injury to the community through the weakening of the sense of parental responsibility seems to me small in comparison with the future good likely to result from the increased physical, economic, and ethical efficiency of the next generation which might reasonably be expected to follow from the rigorous carrying out of such a plan for a time. the fear lest a larger and larger number of parents might endeavour to rid themselves of the direct care of their children, if this plan were adopted, need not deter us. if this plan were carried into practice, then some extension of the scope of the industrial acts would be rendered necessary, and some such extension seems to have been in the minds of the select committee in their report on the education (provision of meals) bill, , in considering their recommendations.[ ] but the importance of the two classes of cases already considered sinks into comparative insignificance compared with the third class of cases. temporary underfeeding caused by temporary poverty can be met in many ways without to any appreciable degree lessening the sense of the moral obligation of the parent to provide the personal necessities of food and clothing for his children. in the case, again, of the persistently dissolute and neglectful parent, moral considerations have ceased to operate, and so the individual by some method or other must be forced to perform whatever part of the obligation can be exacted from him. but in the third class of cases parental responsibility may be an active and willing force, yet the means available may be so limited in extent that the child is in the chronic condition of being underfed. no one who carefully considers the information recently supplied by the board of education as to the methods of feeding the children attending public elementary schools in the great continental cities and in america can arrive at any other conclusion than that here we are in the presence of an evil not local but general, and apparently incidental to the organisation of the modern industrial state. for whether by voluntary agencies, by municipal grants, or by state aid, every great continental city has found it necessary to organise and institute some system of feeding school children. the only inference to be drawn from such a condition of things is that in a large number of cases the normal wages of the labourer are insufficient to maintain himself and his family in anything like a decent standard of comfort. how large a proportion of the population of our great cities is in this condition it is difficult exactly to estimate, but there is no doubt that a very considerable number of cases of the chronic underfeeding of school children may be traced to the insufficiency of the home income to support the family. the moral obligation to provide the personal necessities of food and clothing for his children is active, but the means for the realisation of the obligation cannot be provided in many cases the endeavour fully to meet the needs of the child results in the lessened efficiency of the breadwinner of the family. the real causes at work tending to keep the wages of the unskilled labourer ever hovering round a mere subsistence rate must be removed, if anything like a permanent cure of this social evil is to be effected. we must endeavour on the one hand to lessen the supply of unskilled labour. by so doing the reward of such labour will tend to be increased materially. on the other hand, we must during the next decade or two endeavour by every means in our power to ensure that a larger and larger number of the children of the very poor shall in the next generation pass into the ranks of skilled labour. but in the meantime something must be done. the children are there; they still suffer; and their wrongs cry aloud for redress. it is certainly true that any aid given to the child will tend meanwhile to keep the wages at bare subsistence rates. it is also true that the distribution of relief only tends to make the poor comfortable in their poverty, instead of helping them to rise out of it. all this and much more might be urged against the demand to institute and organise the systematic public feeding of school children. but these evils are evils which fall upon the present adult population. education has, however, to do with the future, with the next generation and not with this. its aim is to secure that as large a number as possible of the children of the present generation will grow up to be economically and ethically efficient members of the community. to secure this end the problem of underfeeding is only one of the problems that must be solved. if we adopt some systematic plan for securing the full nutrition of the children of the present, this must go hand in hand with other remedies. during the stage of transition we shall have to take into account that for a time the wages of the poorest class of labourer will tend to remain at their present low rate; we shall have to face the danger that by giving such aid we may in some cases still further weaken the sense of moral obligation of the parents of the present generation. if, on the other hand, we do nothing, or if we look to the present voluntary agencies to go on doing what they can to remedy the evil, what then? will the evil be lessened in the next generation? assuredly not, if the experience of the present and of the past are safe guides as to what we may expect in the future. hence we have no hesitation in urging that the feeding of children attending the public elementary schools should be organised on lines similar to the recommendations laid down in the _special report from the special committee on education_ (_provision of meals_) _bill_, .[ ] but if we carry out these recommendations and do nothing else, then it may be that we shall partially remedy the evil in the next generation, but we shall to a large extent perpetuate the present condition of things. side by side with this, we must institute and set other agencies at work. by the institution of free kindergarten schools in the poorer districts of our large towns, by postponing the beginning of the formal education of the child to a later age, by a scientific course of physical education, by better trade and technical schools, and if need be by the compulsory attendance of children at evening continuation schools, we must bend our every effort to secure that the ranks of the casual, the unskilled, and the unemployable shall be lessened, and the ranks of the skilled and intelligent worker increased. as the freeing of elementary education can be justified on the ground that the education of the child is necessary for the future protection of the state, so on similar grounds it may be urged that the nutrition of the child is also necessary. without this our merely educational agencies can never adequately secure the social efficiency of the coming generation. at the same time, unless in the future the need for free education and free food becomes less and less, and unless by the means sketched above we rear up a generation economically and morally independent, then truly we have not discovered the method by which man can be raised to independence and rationality. appendix _recommendations of the select committee on education_ (_provision of meals_) _bill_, . "the evidence, verbal and documentary, placed before the committee has led them to arrive at the following general conclusions:-- " . that it is expedient that the local education authority should be empowered to organise and direct the provision of a midday meal for children attending public elementary schools, and that statutory powers should be given to local authorities to establish committees to deal with school canteens. " . that such committees should be composed of representatives of the local education authority, representatives of the voluntary subscribers, and where thought desirable a representative of the board of guardians, and of the local branch of the society for the prevention of cruelty to children, where such exists. that the head teacher, the school attendance officer, and the relieving officer should work in association with such committee. " . that power should be given for the local education authorities, when they deem it desirable, to raise loans and spend money on the provision of suitable accommodation and officials, and for the preparation, cooking, and serving of meals to the children attending public elementary schools. " . that only in extreme and exceptional cases, where it can be shown that neither the parents' resources nor local voluntary funds are sufficient to cover the cost, and after the consent of the board of education as to the necessity for such expenditure has been obtained, a local authority may have recourse to the rates for the provision of the cost of the actual food; the local rate for this purpose to in no case exceed ½d. in the £. " . that the local education authority should, as far as possible, associate with itself, and encourage the continuance of, voluntary agencies in connection with the work of feeding of children. " . that whatever steps may be necessary, by way of extension of the industrial schools and the prevention of cruelty to children acts or otherwise, should be taken to secure that parents able to do so and neglecting to make proper provision for the feeding of their children shall be proceeded against for the recovery of the cost; and that the guardians, or where available the society for the prevention of cruelty to children, and not the local education authority, be empowered to prosecute in any cases coming under the law in respect to the neglect of parents to make proper provision for the feeding of their children. " . that payment for meals, prior to the meal, whenever possible, should be insisted upon from the parents. " . that it is undesirable that meals should be served in rooms habitually used for teaching purposes, and that the regulations of the board of education should carry this recommendation into effect. " . that whilst strong testimony has been placed before the committee to the effect that the teachers have given and are giving admirable service in the way of supervising the provision of meals to the children, it is the opinion of the committee that it ought not to be made part of the conditions attaching to the appointment of any teacher that he (or she) shall or shall not take part in dispensing meals provided for the children, and that the board of education should carry this recommendation into effect." footnotes: [ ] cf. underfed children in continental and american cities (presented to parliament, april ). [ ] cf. _report on education_ (_provision of meals_) _bill_, especially recommendation , appendix, p. . [ ] cf. appendix, p. . chapter viii the organisation of the means of education throughout we have assumed that it is the duty of the state to see to the adequate provision, to the due distribution, and to the proper co-ordination of all the agencies of education, and we have taken up this position mainly on the ground that neither the adequate provision nor the proper co-ordination of the means of education can be safely left to the self-interest of the individual or any group of individuals. if left to be accomplished by purely voluntary agencies, both the provision and the co-ordination will remain imperfect, and as a nation we can no longer neglect the systematic organisation and grading of the means of education. but a misapprehension must first be removed. in declaring that all the agencies of formal education should be under control of the state, it is not to be inferred that this control should be bureaucratic. in many minds state control is synonymous with government by inspectors and other officials of the central authority. but bureaucratic control in a nation whose government is founded on a representative basis is a disease rather than a normal condition of such government. in a country where the sovereign power is vested in an individual or in a limited number of individuals, bureaucratic control is and must be an essential feature of its government. on the other hand, where the government is founded upon the representative principle, the appearance of bureaucracy is an indication of some imperfection in the organisation of the state itself. the introduction of the representative principle may have been too premature or its extension too rapid, and as a consequence the government of the people by themselves is ineffective through the general want of an enlightened self-interest amongst the majority of the nation. in such a condition of affairs, if progress is to be made, it can only be accomplished effectively through an enlightened minority forcing its will upon the unenlightened and ignorant majority, and as a result we may have the creation of an army of official inspectors whose chief duty becomes to secure that the will of the central authority is realised. in such a condition of things the tendency ever is for more and more power to fall into the hands of the permanent officials. but this condition of things may arise in a government founded upon the representative principle in another way. the organs through which the will of the people makes itself known may be imperfect, so that as a consequence it fails to find adequate expression, or its expression is felt only at infrequent intervals. if, for example, the central authority is so overburdened with work that little or insufficient attention is given to many matters of supreme importance for the welfare of the nation, then it follows that more and more power will pass into the hands of its executive and advisory officers. this condition of things will be further intensified if the governing bodies charged with the local control of national affairs are too weak or too unenlightened to make their voice effective. now, the tendency to the bureaucratic control of the educational affairs of our own country may be traced to all three causes. the want of an enlightened self-interest in the matter of education amongst a large number of the people, the ineffectiveness of parliament to deal thoroughly with purely educational questions, and the weakness in many cases of the local governing bodies have all contributed to the gradual creation of the bureaucratic control of education in great britain. but this form of control is not entirely evil, and in certain cases it may be a necessary stage in the development of a democracy passing from unenlightenment to enlightenment. the remedies for this imperfection, this disease of representative government in the matter of educational control, are ( ) the spread of a more enlightened self-interest as to the value of education as a means of securing the social efficiency of the nation and of the individual, ( ) the effective control of education by the central authority, and ( ) the strengthening of the local authorities by devolving upon them more and more important educational duties. by this means the control of education by the state will become more and more the control of the people by themselves and for themselves, and the chief function of officials and inspectors will then be to advise central and local authorities how best to realise the educational aims desired by the common will of the people. let us now consider the main principles which should guide the state in her organisation of the means of education. in the first place, and upon this all are agreed, the control of all grades of education, primary, secondary, and technical, should be entrusted to one body in each area or district. for there can be no co-ordination established between the work of the various school agencies, and there can be no differentiation of the functions to be undertaken by the various types of school, until there has been established unity of control. in england, by the act of , a great step was taken towards the unification of all the agencies of education. according to its provisions, the school board system was abolished. "every county council and county borough council, and the borough councils of every non-county borough with a population of over , , and the district council of every urban district with a population over , , became the local education authority for elementary education, while the county council and the county borough council became the authorities for higher education, _with the supplementary aid of the councils of all non-county boroughs and urban districts_." by this means the unification of educational control has been realised, and already in many districts of england much has been done to further the means of higher education and to co-ordinate this stage with the preceding primary stage. in scotland the question of the extension of the area of educational control and of the unification of the various agencies directing education still awaits solution. several plans have been put forward to effect these ends.[ ] in the first place, it has been proposed to retain the present parish school boards for the purpose of elementary education, and to combine two or more school boards for the purposes of providing secondary and technical education. this plan, however, meets with little favour. it would be difficult to carry into practice, and if realised would imperfectly fulfil the end of co-ordinating the work of the various school agencies. its only recommendations are its apparent simplicity, and the fact that it could be carried out with the least possible change in the existing conditions. in the second place, it is proposed to retain the school board system, but to extend the area over which any particular educational authority exerts its control, and to place under its direction all grades of education. in the practical carrying out of this plan the present district areas of counties selected for other purposes have been proposed as educational units. on the other hand, it has been declared that in many cases these areas are unsuitable for educational purposes, and it has been proposed that new areas should be delimited for this purpose. the chief merit, if it be a merit, of this plan is the retention in educational control of the _ad hoc_ principle--_i.e._, of the principle of entrusting one single national interest to a body charged with the sole duty of conserving and furthering the interest. the only reasons advanced are the great importance of the educational interest and the fear that if it is entrusted to bodies charged with other duties this interest may tend to be neglected. but although both sentiment and the interests of political parties are involved in the advocacy of the _ad hoc_ principle, it must be kept in mind that the school board system in scotland is universal and that the difficulties of the system which prevailed in england before its abolition do not exist in scotland. as a consequence, it has been much more effective in scotland than in england, and has a much firmer hold on the sentiments of the people. in the third place, it has been proposed to hand over the educational duties of the country to the county councils and to the burgh councils of the more important towns, to adopt, in principle, a system of educational control similar to that established in england by the act of . many reasons may be urged for the adoption of the last-named plan, and we shall briefly state the more important. . an _ad hoc_ authority by its very nature is necessarily weaker than an authority entrusted not merely with the care of a single interest but with the care of the public interests as a whole. if there is to be decentralisation of any part of the functions of the central authority, then any form of decentralisation which consists in the handing over of particular interests to different local bodies, however it may be for the advantage of the particular interest is radically bad for the general interests of the community. the calling into existence of a number of local authorities each having the care of one particular interest, each pursuing its own aim independently and without consideration of the differing and often conflicting aims of the other bodies, each having the power of rating for its own particular purpose without any regard for the general interest of the taxpayer, is radically an unsound form of decentralisation. . the establishment of such a form of control fails, and must necessarily fail, in the local authorities securing the maximum of freedom and the minimum of interference from the executive officers of the central legislative authority. so long as the separate interests of the community are entrusted to different local authorities, so long must there remain to the central authority and to its executive officers the power of regulating and harmonising the various and often contending interests so as to secure that the general interest of the individual does not suffer, and the more keenly each particular body furthers the particular interest entrusted to its care the greater is the necessity for this central control and interference, and that the central control should be effective. . the separation of the so-called educational interests from the other interests of the community is not for the good of education itself. the real educational interests which have to be determined by the adult portion of the community are the exact nature of the services which a nation such as ours requires of its future members. this determined, the method of their attainment is best entrusted to the educational expert. the first-named end will be better realised by a body composed of men of diverse interests than by one which is made up of men with one intense but often narrow interest. . the larger the powers entrusted to any body and the more freedom possessed by it in devising and working out its schemes, the better chance there is of attracting the best men in the community to undertake the work. . it is questionable whether the interests of the teacher would not be better furthered by a local authority entrusted with the care of the interests of the community as a whole than by a body having charge of education alone. men entrusted with the larger interests of the community are usually more ready to take wider views than the man who is narrowed down to one interest. as a rule, they know the value of good work done, and are ready and willing to pay for it wherever they find it. . lastly, we may urge the test of practical experience. in england, and especially in london, since the control of education has passed into the hands of the county councils a great advance has been made both in the furthering and in the co-ordination of the means of education. whether ultimately the control of education be vested in district school boards or in the county and burgh councils, one reform is urgently needed in scotland, and this is the extension of the area of educational control, under a strong local authority, and with the entire control of elementary, secondary, and technical education. in the second place, whatever the area of control chosen it should be of such a nature as to admit within its bounds of schools of different grades and of different types, so that children may pass not only from the elementary school to the secondary, but may pass to the particular type of secondary or higher school which is best fitted to prepare them for their future life's work. in many cases, in scotland, we cannot make the same clear distinction between the various types of school as they do in germany, but must remain content with the division of a school into departments; yet in our large towns and in our most populous centres of industry we must establish schools of different types and with differing particular ends in view. the third principle of organisation follows from the second. we must see that our educational system is so organised as to provide an efficient and sufficient supply of all the services which the community requires of its individual members. in particular, our higher school system must be designed not merely for the supply of the so-called learned professions, but must also make due and adequate provision for the training of those who in after-life are destined for the higher industrial and commercial posts. in particular, we must see that there is due provision of trade and technical schools, where our future artisans may become acquainted with the theoretical principles underlying their particular art. fourthly, we must endeavour to make our elementary school system the basis and point of departure of all further and higher education. this would not involve that every child should be educated at a primary and state-aided school, but it does mean and would involve that the preparatory departments of our present secondary schools should model their curriculum on the lines laid down in our elementary schools. fifthly, in the organisation of the means of education, our system, as we have already pointed out, must be democratic in the sense that the means of higher education shall be open to all, rich and poor, in order that each may be enabled to find and thereafter to fit himself for that particular employment for which by nature he is best suited. it must further be aristocratic in the sense that it is selective of the best ability; and finally, it must be restrictive in order that the means of higher education may be utilised to the best advantage, and not misused on those who are unfitted to benefit therefrom. unity of control; adequacy of area; schools of various types, sufficient in number, and suited to meet the need for the supply of the various services required by the state; a common basis in elementary education; means of higher education open to all who can profit thereby; selection of the best; restriction of those unable to benefit from higher education--these are the principles which must in the future guide the state organisation of the means of education. footnote: [ ] for a fuller discussion of this question, see _scotch education reform_, by dr. douglas and professor jones (maclehose). chapter ix the aim of physical education "a sound mind in a sound body is a short but full description of a happy state in this world. he that has these two has little more to wish for, and he that wants either of them will be but little the better for anything else."[ ] in these words locke sets forth for all time what should be aimed at in the physical education of the child, and in the light of modern physiological psychology the position must be emphasised anew that one of the essential conditions of sound intellectual and moral vigour is sound physical health, and that body and mind are not things apart, but that the health of the one ever conditions and is conditioned by the health of the other. moreover, at the present time, it is all the more necessary to insist upon the need for the systematic care of the physical culture of the child, since in many cases the conditions under which the children of the poor live in our great towns are most prejudicial to the full and free development of the organs of the body. the narrow, overbuilt streets in the poorer parts of our towns, the overcrowding of the people in tenements, the unhygienic conditions under which the vast majority of our very poor live and sleep, are all active forces in preventing the full and free development of the physical powers of the child. thus the purely educational problem of how best to promote the physical health and development of the child by the systematic exercises of the school is involved in the much larger and more important social problem of how to better the conditions under which the very poor live. the agencies of the school can do little permanently to improve the physique of the children until, concurrently with the school, society endeavours to improve the social conditions under which the poorest of the population of our great cities herd together. for a similar reason much of the endeavour of the school to found and establish in the child's mind interests of social worth is counteracted by the evil influence of its home and social environment. if the physical, economic, and ethical efficiency of the children of the slums is ever to be secured, if we are ever to attain a permanent result, then concurrently with the creation of new and higher social interests must go hand in hand changes in the social environment of the child. mere betterment of the physical conditions under which our slum population live is of no avail unless at the same time we have a corresponding change in the slum mind by the rise and prevalence of a higher ideal of the physical and material conditions under which their lives ought to be spent. for experience has shown in many cases that the mere betterment of the material conditions under which the poor live without any corresponding change of ideals soon results in the re-creation of the miserable conditions which formerly prevailed. on the other hand, the mere instilling of new ideals into the minds of the rising generation will effect little, if during the greater part of the school period and altogether afterwards we leave the child to overcome the evil influences of his environment as best he may. the ideals of the school are too weak, too feebly established, to prevail against the ever present and ever potent influences of the environment unless side by side with the rise of the new ideals we at the same time endeavour to lessen, if we cannot altogether remove, the obstacles which prevent their realisation and prevalence. this problem of how to raise by education and by means of the other social agencies at work the children of the slums to a higher ideal of life and conduct and to secure their future social efficiency is the most urgent problem of our day and generation. mere school reforms in physical and intellectual education will effect little unless the other aspects of the problem are attacked at the same time. further, our school system, which requires that the child should restrain his instinctive tendencies to action, and for certain hours each day assume a more or less passive and cramped attitude, is also prejudicial to the development and free play of the organs of the body which have entrusted to them the discharge of certain functional activities. hence the evil effects of the school itself must be removed or remedied by some means having as their aim the increased functional activity of the respiratory and circulatory systems of the body. and therefore the aim of any system of physical exercises should be not merely increase of bone and development of muscle but also the sustaining and improving of the bodily health of the child by "expanding the lungs, quickening the circulation, and shaking the viscera." this, as we shall see later, is not the only aim of physical education. it may further aid in mental growth and development, and be instrumental in the production of certain mental and moral qualities of value both to the individual and to the community. another cause operating in the school to prevent the full and free development of the body is the method of much of the teaching which prevails. a quite unnecessary strain is often put upon the nervous system of the child, and as a consequence a lassitude of body results which physical exercise not only does not tend to remove but actually tends to increase. methods of teaching which fail to arouse any inherent interest in the attainment of an end of felt value to the child require for the evoking and maintaining of his active attention the operation of some powerful indirect interest, and if persisted in, such methods soon result in the overworking and exhaustion of some one particular system of nervous centres, and in the depletion through non-nutrition of other centres. as a consequence, the child is unable to take any part in physical exercises or in school games with profit to himself. he is content to loaf and do as little as he can. the evil is further intensified if there is also present under or improper nutrition of the child. thus along with our schemes for the physical education of the child we must endeavour to improve the methods of our teachers, to make them understand that experiences acquired through the arousing of the direct interest of the child are acquired at the least physiological cost, and to make them realise under what conditions this direct interest can be aroused and maintained. no one indeed wishes to make everything in the school pleasant to the child, or to reduce self-effort to a minimum. but effort and interest are not opposed terms. the effort which is evoked in the realisation of an interest or end of felt value is the only kind of effort which possesses any educational value. the effort which is called forth in the finding and establishing of a system of means towards an end which the child fails to see, and which, as a consequence, rouses no direct interest in its attainment, is an effort which should for ever be banished from the schoolroom. such, _e.g._, is the effort evoked in the mere cramming of empty lists of words or dates or facts. little mental good results from such a process, and the physiological cost is often great. let us now consider the conditions necessary for sound physical health, and inquire how far the school agencies can aid in the providing of these conditions: they are mainly four in number. in the first place, in order to secure the full growth and development of the bodily powers, there is needed a sufficiency of food. but mere sufficiency is not enough, the food must be varied in quality in order to meet the various needs of the body, and must be prepared in such a way as to be readily assimilated and rendered fit for the nutrition of both body and mind. manifestly the home ought to be the chief agent in providing for this need. but, as we have seen in considering the problem of the feeding of school children, the home in many cases is unable adequately to provide for it, and, for a time at least, some method of public provision of good and wholesome food for the children of the poor may be rendered necessary. but much of the physical evil results from improper nutrition; and here the school agencies may do a great deal in the future by furthering the teaching of domestic science to the girls of the working classes. such teaching, however, if it is to be effective, must be real and must take into account the actual conditions under which their future lives are to be spent. at the present time much of the teaching is valueless, through its neglect of the actual income and resources of the working man's home. the second condition necessary for bodily growth and development is a sufficiency of pure air. this is necessary, since the oxygen of the air is not only the active agent in the maintenance of life, but is also requisite for the combustion of the foodstuffs conveyed into the body. much has been done within recent years in our schools to provide well-ventilated classrooms and to instruct teachers how to keep the air of the school pure. here again the problem is to a large extent a social one, involving the better housing of our great town population. a third condition necessary for the physical development of the child is sleep sufficient in quantity and good in quality. the weak, puny children in arms to be seen in our crowded slums owe their condition, in many cases, to the want of sound sleep, to the fact that they never are allowed to rest, as much as to the under and improper feeding to which they are subjected. as we shall see in the next chapter, much might be done by the establishment of free kindergarten schools in our overcrowded districts to alleviate the lot and to better the education of the very young children of the poor. but in addition to the three conditions already named, which may be classed together as the nutritive factors in bodily growth, there is a fourth condition essential for all development, whether bodily or mental--viz., exercise. for "development is produced by exercise of function, use of faculty.... if we wish to develop the hand, we must exercise the hand. if we wish to develop the body, we must exercise the body. if we wish to develop the mind, we must exercise the mind. if we wish to develop the whole human being, we must exercise the whole human being."[ ] but any form of exercise will not do. the exercise which is given must be given at the right time, must be in harmony with the nature of the organ exercised, and must be proportioned to the strength of the organ, if true development is to be attained. in order to understand this in so far as it bears upon the aims which we should set before us in the physical education of the child, it is necessary that we should understand what modern physiological psychology has to teach us of the nature of the nervous system. if the reader will look back to an earlier chapter,[ ] he will find that education was defined as the process by which experiences are acquired and organised in order that they may render the performance of future action more efficient, or alternatively it is the process by which systems of means are formed, organised, and established for the attainment of various ends of felt value. the establishment of these systems of means is only possible because in the human infant the nervous system is relatively unformed at birth, is relatively plastic, and so is capable of being organised in such and such a definite manner. on the other hand, in many animals the nervous system of each is definitely formed at birth; it is so organised that experience does little to add to or aid in its further development. now, while the nervous system of the child at birth is not so definitely organised as that of many animals, yet on the other hand it is not wholly plastic, wholly unformed, so that, as many psychologists and educationalists once believed, it can be moulded into any shape we please. rather, we have to conceive of the nervous system of the human infant as made up of a series of systems at different degrees of development and with varying degrees of organisation.[ ] some centres, as _e.g._ those which have to do with the regulation of certain reflex and automatic actions, start at once into full functional activity; others, as _e.g._ those which have to do with purely intellectual functions, are relatively unformed and unorganised at birth, and become organised as the result of conscious effort, as the result of an educational process, as the result of acquiring, organising, and establishing experiences for the attainment of ends of acquired value. between the systems at the lowest level and those at the highest we have centres of varying degrees of organisation at birth. moreover, these centres of the middle level reach their full maturity at different rates. the centres, _e.g._, which have to do with the co-ordination of hand and eye and with the attainment of control over the limbs of the body reach their full functional activity before, _e.g._, the centres having control of the lips and speech. the centres, again, which have to do with the co-ordination of the sensory material derived through the particular senses are still longer in reaching their full functional activity, while the higher intellectual centres may not reach their highest power until well on in life. hence, since education is the process of acquiring experiences that shall modify future activity, it can do little positively to aid the development of the lowest centres; it can do more to modify the development of the middle centres; while the highest centres of all are in great part organised as the result of direct individual experience. as regards the systems of the lowest level, what we have then to aim at is to allow them free room for growth, and to correct as far as possible faults due either to the imperfections of nature or to the unnatural conditions under which the child lives. so long as these systems are provided with nutrition and allowed freedom in performing their functions, we are unaware of their existence. we, _e.g._, only become aware that we possess a circulatory system or a respiratory or a digestive system when the functional activity of these organs is impeded. the opinion, therefore, that physical exercise has for its chief aim the sustaining and improving of the bodily health is no doubt true and correct, but it is not the only aim. on this view we are considering only the lowest system of centres, and devising means by which we may maintain and improve their functional activity. moreover, it is necessary to endeavour to secure the free development of these centres and their unimpeded functional activity, because otherwise the development of the higher centres is hindered, and the whole nervous system rendered unstable and insecure. but a wise system of physical education must take into account the fact that a carefully selected and organised system of exercises can do much for the development of the centres of the middle level which have to do with the proper co-ordination of various bodily movements. these are only partly organised at birth, and education--the acquiring and organising of experiences--is necessary for their due organisation and their adaptation as systems of means for the attainment of definite ends. it is for this reason that the beginning of the formal education of the child at too early an age is physiologically and psychologically erroneous. in doing this we are neglecting the lower centres at the time when by nature they are reaching their full functional activity, and exercising the higher which are at an unripe stage of development. moreover, lower centres not exercised during the period when they are attaining their full development never attain the same functional development if exercised later. hence the difficulty of acquiring a manual dexterity later in life. again, it is on this theory of lower and higher centres maturing at different rates and attaining their full functional activity at different times that we now base our education of the mentally defective. we must organise the lower centres; we must educate the mentally defective child to get control over these already partially organised centres, before we begin to educate the higher and less organised centres. moreover, it is only in so far as we can secure this end that we can stably build up and organise the higher centres of the nervous system. hence also such qualities as alertness in receiving orders and promptness and accuracy in carrying them out are, at first, best learned through the organising and training of the centres of the middle level. what we really endeavour to do here is to organise and establish systems of means for the attainment of definite ends, which through their systematic organisation can be brought into action when required promptly and quickly, and once aroused work themselves out with a minimum of effort and with a low degree of attention, so that their performance involves the least possible physiological cost. from this the reader will understand that the aim of physical education is the aim of all education, viz., to acquire and organise experiences that will render future action more efficient. moreover, the early training of the centres of the middle level is important for the after technical training of our workmen. the boy or girl who has never been educated in early life to co-ordinate and carry out bodily movements promptly and accurately is not likely to succeed in after-life in any employment which requires the ready and exact co-ordination of many movements for the attainment of a definite end. the proper physical education of the child is therefore necessary for the securing of the after economic efficiency of the individual, and it can also by the development of certain mental and moral qualities be made instrumental in the development of the ethically efficient person. we must now briefly note two other educational agencies which may be employed in the securing of the physical and mental efficiency of the child--play and games. psychologically, games stand midway between play and work. in play we have an inherited system of means evoked into activity and carried out to an end for the pure pleasure derived from the activity itself. such systems at first are imperfectly organised, but through the experience derived the systems become more and better adapted for the attainment of the ends which they are intended to realise. in games, on the other hand, the activity is undertaken for an end only partially connected with the means by which it is attained, whilst in work the means may have no intrinsic connection with the end desired. hence the effort of a disagreeable nature which work often evokes. in animals fully equipped at birth by means of instinct for the performance of actions the play-activity is altogether absent. their lives are wholly business-like. on the other hand, in the higher animals, whose young have a period of infancy, play is nature's instrument of education. by means of it the systems of the middle level which form the larger part of the brain equipment of the higher animals are gradually organised and fitted for the attainment of the ends which in mature life they are intended to realise. play is their education--is the means by which nature works in order that experiences may be acquired and organised that shall render future action more efficient. without this power, "the higher animals could not reach their full development; the stimulus necessary for the growth of their bodies and minds would be lacking."[ ] play also is nature's instrument in the education of the young child. the first and most important part of his education is obtained by this means, and, on the basis thus laid, must all after-education be built. hence the importance in early life of allowing full freedom for the manifestation of this activity. hence also the very great importance of securing that the children of the poor should be provided with the means of realising the playful activities of their nature and of being stimulated and encouraged to play. hence one aim of the kindergarten school is to utilise the play-activity of the child in the development of his body and mind.[ ] the third agency which we may employ in developing the physical powers of the child is that of games. games, however, are not merely useful as means for the attainment of the physical development of the boy or girl; they also may be made instrumental in the creation and fostering of certain mental and moral qualities of the greatest after-value to the community. no one acquainted with the important part which games perform in the life of the public school boy can doubt their great educational value. by means of them the boy acquires experiences which in after-life tend to make more efficient certain classes of actions essential for any corporate or communal life. in the playing-fields he learns what it is to be a member of a corporate body whose good and not the attainment of his own private ends must be the first consideration. through the medium of the games of the school he may get to know the meaning of self-sacrifice, of working with his fellows for a common end or purpose, and of sinking his own individuality for the sake of his side. in addition he learns the habits of ready obedience to superior knowledge and ability; to submit to discipline; and to undergo fatigue for the common good. if found worthy, he may learn how to command as well as to obey, to think out means for the attainment of ends, and to know and feel that the good name of the school rests upon his shoulders. these and other qualities similar in character may be created and established by means of the games of the school. and just as the utilising of the play-instinct is nature's method of education in the fitting of the young animal and the young child to adapt itself in the future to its physical environment, so we may lay down that the games of the school may be largely utilised as society's method of fitting the individual to his after social environment, and in training him to understand the true meaning and the real purport of corporate life. on account, however, of the vast size of many of our public elementary schools and for other reasons, such as the limited playground accommodation in many cases and the want of playing-fields, organised games play but a small part in the physical and moral education of the children attending such schools. but even here much more might be done than is done at present by the teachers in the playground to encourage the simpler playground games, and "to replace the disorganised rough and tumble exercises which characterise the activities of so many of our poorer population by some form of organised activity."[ ] the aimless parading of our streets by the sons and daughters of the working and lower middle classes in their leisure time, the rough horseplay of the youth of the lowest classes, are due in large measure to the fact that during the school period they have not been habituated to take part with their fellows in any form of organised activity, have never realised what a corporate life means, and as a consequence are devoid of any social interests. one other question must be briefly considered, viz., how far should we in the physical education of the youth keep in view the end of securing the military efficiency of the nation? as adam smith pointed out, the defence of any society against the violence and invasion of other independent societies is the first duty of the sovereign. "an industrious, and upon that account a wealthy nation is of all nations the most likely to be attacked, and unless the state takes some measures for the public defence, the natural habits of the people render them altogether incapable of defending themselves."[ ] he further asserts that "even though the martial spirit of the people were of no use towards the defence of the society, yet to prevent that sort of mental mutilation, deformity, and wretchedness which cowardice necessarily involves in it, from spreading themselves through the great body of the people, it would still deserve the most serious attention of government."[ ] on these three grounds, then, that the defence of the country is the first duty of every government and therefore the first duty of every citizen, that a nation engaged in commerce tends to render itself unfit to defend itself unless means are devised to keep alive the patriotic spirit, and that the keeping alive of the patriotic spirit is useful for the cultivation of certain necessary social qualities, we may maintain that the military efficiency of the youth should be included amongst the aims of any national system of physical education. if the emphasis which is laid upon the securing of the after military efficiency of the youth of the nation occupies too prominent a place in the schemes of physical education of some continental countries, we on the other hand have almost wholly neglected this aspect of the question. every encouragement therefore should be given to the formation of cadet and rifle corps in the secondary schools of the country and in the evening continuation schools attended by the sons of the working classes. the time when systematic instruction in military exercises and in the use of arms shall form part of every youth's education has not yet arrived, but the necessity for some such step looms already on the horizon. footnotes: [ ] locke's _thoughts on education_. [ ] bowen's froebel (great educator series), p. . [ ] cf. chap. ii. [ ] cf. macdougall's _physiological psychology_ (dent); _also_ sir james crichton browne's article on "education and the nervous system," in cassell's _book of health_. [ ] _principles of heredity_, ibid. p. . [ ] cf. next chapter. [ ] _suggestions for the consideration of teachers_ (english board of education), chapter on physical education. [ ] adam smith, _wealth of nations_, p. . [ ] _ibid._ p. . chapter x the aim of the infant school it is needless to point out that the method of educating the infant mind is the method of all education--viz., the regulation of the process by which experiences are acquired and organised so as to render the performance of future action more efficient. this, as we shall see later, is the fundamental truth at the foundation of the kindergarten method of froebel, and it must guide and control our conduct not only during the earlier stages but throughout the whole process of education. moreover, since the early acquisitions of the child are the bases upon which all further knowledge and practice are founded, we must realise how important these first experiences are for the whole future development of the child. further, we have seen that all education--all acquiring and organising of experience in early life--must be motived by the felt desire to satisfy some instinctive need of the child's nature, and that it is these instinctive needs which determine the nature and scope of his early activities. later, indeed, acquired interests may be grafted upon the innate and instinctive needs, but at the beginning and during his first years the child's whole life is determined by the primitive desires of human nature. now, the first instinctive need which requires the aid of education is the need felt by the child to acquire some measure of control over his bodily movements and over the things in his immediate physical environment. hence the first stage in education is the regulation of the process by which the child acquires and organises those experiences which shall give him this control. nature herself indeed provides the means for the attainment of this end, but education can do much to aid in the attainment and to shorten the period of incomplete attainment. by means of the assistance given, the control exercised and the direction afforded, we enable the child to organise the lower centres of the nervous system which have to do with the control of the larger bodily movements, and thus establish organised systems of means for the attainment of certain definite ends. the second stage supervenes when the need is felt by the child for some measure of control over his social environment. for the young child soon realises that it is only in so far as he can exert some influence over the persons intimately connected with his welfare that he can make his wants known and find means for the satisfaction of his desires. hence arises the need for some method of communication with his fellows, and from this springs the desire for some system of signs and for a language to enable him to make his wants known. chiefly by means of the educative process of imitating the experiences of others, he gradually acquires a language and finds himself at home in his social world. during this period the centres called into activity, developed, and organised are mainly those connected with the lip and speech centres, and a certain stage of organisation having been attained, the opportunity is now afforded for the fuller functional development of the higher centres entrusted with the duty of receiving, discriminating, and co-ordinating the data of the special organs of sense. the period during which the child is gradually acquiring control over his immediate physical and social environments may roughly be said to extend to the end of his third year. from that time onwards the worlds of nature and of society for their own sake become objects of curiosity to the child. every new object presents him with a variety of fresh sensations. he feels, tastes, and bites everything that comes within his reach, and so acquires a world of new experiences. hence for "the first six years of his life a child has quite enough to do in learning its place in the universe and the nature of its surroundings, and to compel it during any part of that period to give its attention to mere words and symbols is to stint it of the best part of its education for that which is only of secondary importance, and to weaken the foundations of its whole mental fabric."[ ] if, then, during this period the child is left wholly to gather his experiences as he may, he no doubt acquires by his own self-activity a world of new ideas, but the result of this unregulated process will be that the knowledge gained will be largely unsystematised, and much of the experience acquired may be of a nature which may give a false direction to his whole after-development. hence arise three needs. in the first place, we must endeavour to see that new experiences are presented to the child in some systematic manner, in order that the knowledge may be so organised that it may serve as means to the attainment of ends, and so render future activity more accurate and more efficient. in the second place, we must endeavour to prevent the acquisition of experiences which if allowed to be organised would give an immoral direction to conduct; and in the third place, we must endeavour to establish early in the mind of the child organised systems of means which may hereafter result in the prevalence of activities socially useful to the community. now, these three aims are or should be the aims of the kindergarten school, and we shall now inquire into the ends which the kindergarten school sets before it, and for this purpose we shall state the fundamental principles which froebel himself laid down as the guiding principles of this stage of education. on its intellectual side the kindergarten as conceived by froebel has four distinct aims in view. the first aim is by means of comparing and contrasting a series of objects presented in some regular and systematic manner to lead the child to note the likenesses and differences between the things, and so through and by means of his own self-activity to build up coherent and connected systems of ideas. by this method the teacher builds up in the mind of the young child systems of ideas regarding the colours, forms, and other sense qualities of the more common objects of his environment. the second aim is by means of some form of concrete construction to give expression to the knowledge so gained, to make this knowledge more accurate and definite, and thus by a dialectical return to make the experiences of the child definite and accurate, so as to render future action more efficient, and thus pave the way for further progress. the third aim is to utilise the play-activity of the child in the acquisition of new experiences and in their outward concrete expression. the fourth is to engage the child in the production of something socially useful, something which engages his genuine work-activity. in short, what froebel clearly realised was that the mere taking in of new experiences by the child mind in any order was not sufficient. experiences to be useful for efficient action must be assimilated--must be organised into a system--and in order that this may be possible the experiences must be presented in such a manner as will render them capable of being organised. moreover, this mere taking in of new experiences is not enough. there must be a giving out or expression of the knowledge acquired, for it is only in so far as we can turn to use new experiences that we can be sure that they are really ours. now, since the forms of expression natural to the young child are those which evoke his practical constructive efforts, all outward expression in its earlier stages must assume a concrete form. the aim of the so-called "gifts" in froebel's scheme is to build up an organised system of sense-knowledge; the aim of the "occupations" of the kindergarten is to develop the power of concrete expression of the child. the "gifts" and the "occupations" are correlative methods,--the one concerned with the taking in, the other with the outward expression of the same experience,--and throughout either aspect of the process the reason-activity of the child must be evoked both in the acquisition and in the expression of the new experience. physiologically, this twofold process implies that during the kindergarten period the sensory areas of the brain are being exercised and organised and that the associative activity evoked is concerned with the co-ordination of the impressions derived through these areas. psychologically, it implies that during this period we are mainly concerned with the formation of perceptual systems of knowledge composed of data derived through the special senses and through the active movements of the hands and limbs. such a process, moreover, is a necessary preliminary for the full after-development of the higher association centres of the brain and for the formation by the mind of conceptual systems of knowledge. for if we attempt prematurely to exercise the higher centres before the lower have reached a certain measure of development, if we attempt to form conceptual systems of knowledge, such as all language and number systems are, without first laying a sound perceptual basis, then we may do much to hinder future mental growth, if we do not even inflict a positive injury to the child. for the education of the senses neglected, "all after-education partakes of a drowsiness, a haziness, and an insufficiency which it is impossible to cure."[ ] on its moral and social side the aims of the kindergarten school are no less important. if left to follow the naive instinctive needs of his nature and to gather experiences where and how he may, the child is likely to make acquisitions which later may issue in wrong conduct. hence one aim of the kindergarten is to present experiences which may eventually issue in right conduct, and to prevent the acquisition of experiences of an immoral kind. hence also its insistence upon the need of carefully selecting the environment of the young child, so that as far as possible its early experiences--its first acquisitions--shall be of a healthy nature. moreover, by means of the organised activities of the school, and by utilising the play-instinct of the child, it seeks to form and establish certain habits of future social worth to the community and to the individual. for, by means of the games and occupations of the kindergarten school, the child may first of all learn what it means to co-operate with his fellows for a common end or purpose; may learn to submit to authority which he dimly and imperfectly, it may be, perceives to be reasonable; may be trained to habits of accuracy, of order, and of obedience. above all, the kindergarten system may rouse and foster in the mind of the child that sense of a corporate life and of a common social spirit the prevalence of which in after-life is the only secure foundation of society. in england the extreme importance of the education of the infant mind has been, in recent years, clearly acknowledged. the new regulations of the board of education no longer allow children under five years of age to be included as "an integral part of a three-r grant-earning elementary school." a special curriculum has been set forth for their education. they are to have opportunities provided "for the free development of their bodies and minds and for the formation of habits of obedience and attention."[ ] what are known as "kindergarten occupations are not merely pleasant pastimes for children: if so regarded, they are not intelligently used by the teacher. their purpose is to stimulate intelligent individual effort, to furnish training of the senses of sight and touch, to promote accurate co-ordination of hand movements with sense impressions, and, not least important, to implant a habit of obedience." "formal teaching, even by means of kindergarten occupations, is undesirable for children under five. at this stage it is sufficient to give the child opportunity to use his senses freely. to attempt formal teaching will almost inevitably mean, with some of the children, either restraint or over-stimulation, with constant danger to mental growth and health."[ ] from these extracts from the _suggestions for the consideration of teachers_ of the head of the english board of education, it will be evident that the spirit of the "kindergarten" now largely enters into the curriculum of the infant classes. in the future we may hope to see it carried further and that no formal teaching of the child will be undertaken during the first six years of his life. further, we may hope to see in the future the infant departments of our schools more thoroughly organised than they are at present on the kindergarten principle, and the curriculum of the infant school so devised that it shall fit into and pave the way for the curriculum of the elementary school. for at the earlier stage much may be done by the methods of the kindergarten to lay the basis for the teaching of the arts of reading, writing, and arithmetic which it is the main business of the primary school to lead the child to acquire. _e.g._, at the earlier stage, by the breaking up and reconstructing of concrete groups of things, the child can be initiated into the meaning of a number system. by means of pictures and of concrete forms he can be made gradually acquainted with alphabetic forms, and this teaching lays the basis for the future acquisition of the abstract symbols of printed and written words. but while much has been done in england to recognise the importance of the early education of the child for the after moral and social good both of the individual and of the community, and to place the instruction of the infant classes in the public elementary schools upon a rational basis, little attention has been paid in scotland to this subject. as a rule, children in that country do not enter school before the age of five, and there is no separate provision made for the teaching of children under that age; in fact, all scholars under seven years of age are classified together and form the junior division of the school. such a state of matters reflects but little credit on the educational leaders of scotland, and indicates an imperfect conception of the real nature of the educative process. for if education is the process of acquiring and organising experiences in order to render future action more efficient, it is surely the height of folly to allow the young child to gather his early experiences as he may. moreover, in the case of the children of the slums, to allow them during their early years to gather into their brain without any correcting agency "all the sights and scenes of a slum is sheer social madness." "the child must be removed, or partially removed, from such an atmosphere, since it has reached the imitative stage, and is nearing the selective stage of life. for the moment he imitates anything; presently he will imitate what pleases him, what gives him momentary pleasure. before the unmoral selective stage is reached, the stage which inevitably precedes the moral and immoral selective stage, it is essential that children should receive definite and deliberate guidance, that the imitative faculty should be controlled."[ ] in the case of the children of the poorer districts this can be done only through the agency of the infant school. much may be done by making the instruction of the school attractive, to counteract the evil influences of the home and social environment, and to lead the child to acquire and organise experiences which will issue in moral and not in immoral conduct. hence what we need in the poorer districts of our large towns is free kindergarten schools from which all formal teaching of the three r's is abolished, where for several hours in each day the child may be trained to use his senses in the accurate discrimination and accurate systematisation of sense knowledge; where he may have his constructive activities evoked by the expression in concrete form of what he has been led to perceive through the medium of the senses; where he may be trained to habits of order, of cleanliness, of submission to authority; and where for a time, at least, he may be accustomed to live in a purer and healthier atmosphere than he can find at home or in the street, and where for a brief space he may have that feeling of home which he cannot find at home.[ ] the establishment in the poorer districts of our great towns of schools whose education follows the method of the kindergarten if accompanied by some system of feeding the child would do much to secure the after social efficiency of the rising generation, and would by its reaction on the home-life tend gradually to raise the ideals of the very poor. footnotes: [ ] _the nervous system and education_, by sir james crichton browne, _ibid._ p. . [ ] _the nervous system and education_, by sir james crichton browne, _ibid._ p. . [ ] cf. on this subject the chapter on "school nurseries" in _national education and national life_, ibid. [ ] _suggestions for the consideration of teachers_, chap. iii. (issued by the english board of education). [ ] montmorency's _national education and national life_, ibid. p. . the chapter on "school nurseries" should be read by everyone, and especially by every scotsman interested in the education of young children. [ ] cf. charles lamb's essay on _popular fallacies_. chapter xi the aim of the primary school during the past thirty years no part of our educational system has received so much attention as the elementary schools of the country. if we compare the condition of things which prevails at the present time with that which existed previous to , there can be no doubt that a great advance has been made both in the better provision of the means of education and in the efficiency of the instruction given. previous to a large number of the children of the poor received no education.[ ] of those attending school many left with but a scanty knowledge. now practically every child[ ] receives a training in the primary arts of reading, writing, and arithmetic; and with the gradual extension of the period during which the child must attend school, it has become possible to ensure that a larger and larger number of children leaving our elementary schools have received an education which may be of value for the after-fulfilment of the simpler practical ends of life. again, previous to the school buildings were in many cases unfit for their purpose; now the elementary schools of the country both in their building arrangements and equipment are as a rule much superior to the voluntary and endowed schools providing secondary education. previous to anyone was thought good enough to undertake the work of teaching; since that time more and more attention has been paid to the qualifications of the teacher and to securing that he shall have attained a certain standard of education, and have received a certain measure of training before engaging upon the work of the instruction of the young. we, _e.g._, no longer entrust the instruction of the younger children in the school to the older, as was the custom under the monitorial system of bell and lancaster, and with the abolition of the pupil-teacher the last remnant of a system introduced at the beginning of the nineteenth century, as the only remedy to meet the dire educational necessities of the time, will have been removed. but in spite of the great advances which have been made, there is a deep-seated feeling now beginning to find expression, that somehow or other the elementary school has not realised all the expectations that were once thought likely to result from the universal education of the children of the nation, and that in particular the primary school has failed to foster and to establish the moral and social qualities necessary for the welfare of a state whose government is founded on the representative principle. this, it seems to me, is largely due to the wrong conception of the aims which the primary school is intended to realise--a conception which prevailed for many years after the introduction of compulsory elementary education. for some time now, and especially during the past few years, a counter-reaction has set in against the narrowness of the aims of the preceding period, and like all reactions it tends to go to the opposite extreme, and so to broaden the aims of the primary school as to be in danger of failing to realise efficiently any one of the ends which it sets before it. the state of things immediately preceding not unnaturally gave rise to the idea that the acquisition of the arts of reading, writing, and arithmetic was the one indispensable object to be attained in the elementary education of the child. this conviction was strengthened by the system of government grants introduced into both english and scotch schools, payments to school managers being largely based upon the successes obtained in passes in the three elementary subjects. certain results naturally followed. in the first place, no provision was made for the special education of the infant classes. since the after-success of the child was measured by his attainments in the three r's, the sooner the infant mind was introduced to these subjects the better the after-result might be expected to be. thus the grant-earning capacity of the child became the teacher's chief consideration. in the second place, the energies of the teacher were directed to secure a certain mechanical accuracy in the use of the three elementary arts rather than their intelligent apprehension. as a consequence, these subjects came in time to be thought of as subjects worthy of attainment for their own sake and their acquisition as an end in itself. hence it was forgotten that the acquisition and organisation of these systems of elementary knowledge are only valuable because they are the indispensable means of all intercourse, of all commerce, and of all culture. hence also their use as instruments for the after-realisation of many purposes in life tended to be neglected, or at least to fall into the background. individual teachers, no doubt, in many cases realised the partial error in this conception of the aims of the primary school, but the demands of government inspectors and of school authorities, with their rule-of-thumb methods of testing the success of the teacher's work by the percentage of passes gained, tended often to make the teacher, in spite of his better judgment, look upon the child mainly as a three-r grant-earning subject and to consider the chief aim of primary education to be the securing of a certain mechanical proficiency in the use of the three elementary arts. under such a method of examination it was certainly necessary for the teacher to pay some attention to the individuality of the child. if his efforts were to be at all successful it was incumbent upon him to discover as early as possible the range of the child's previous knowledge in the three grant-earning subjects and to find out in which of the three the power of acquisition of the child was naturally weak or naturally strong. where the number of children in a class was large, little individual attention could, of course, be paid to the child, and in such cases the acquisition of the subject was aided by the mechanical drilling of sections of the class and by recourse to all manner of devices for ensuring the accurate acquisition of the essential subjects. as a result of this partial and one-sided conception little attention was paid to the use to which these subjects may be put in the realisation of the practical ends of life. arithmetic, _e.g._, seemed to the child to be made up of a number of kinds of arithmetic, each process having its own rules and methods of procedure; but it never entered into his mind, and but seldom into that of his teacher, that the various arithmetical processes are at bottom but diverse forms of the one fundamental process of adding to or subtracting from a group. proportion was one kind of arithmetic, simple interest another, but that these processes symbolised real group-forming processes, or that they had to do with any of the realities of life, was apprehended, if at all, in the most imperfect and hazy manner. in a similar manner, the overcoming of the mechanical difficulties of language construction occupied the major portion of the attention of the child during the school period, and the function of language in conveying a knowledge of things and persons and events received but a small share of his attention. meanings of words were indeed tabulated and learnt by heart, and as a rule the child on examination-day could make a fair show in deluding the inspector that the passage read was intelligently apprehended. in very much the same way, the overcoming of the mechanical difficulties of writing and the drilling of the child to form his letters in a uniform style received the chief share of the school-time devoted to the subject. the interest and attention of the child having been thus mainly occupied in the overcoming of the mechanical difficulties involved in the learning of the three grant-earning subjects, and little attention having been paid to the use of these arts, it followed that upon the conclusion of the school period the child left the school without any real interests having been established as the result of the educative process. moreover, except in so far as by their teaching we may establish habits of order and of accuracy, the three elementary subjects in themselves possess no moral or social intent; hence unless we can make the child realise their value as instruments for the attainment of ends of social worth they in themselves fail to play any important part in the building up of character. let me put this in another way. we have defined education as the process of acquiring and systematising experiences that will render future action more efficient, or alternatively it is the process by which we organise and establish in the mind systems of ideas for the attainment of ends. but if we make the acquisition of these elementary arts ends in themselves, then it follows that the more efficient action we seek to realise is the more efficient manipulation of a number system or a language system. if, however, we realise that these arts are but means to the realisation of other ends, then we shall understand that it is the character of the latter which mainly determines the resulting character of the education given. partly to this erroneous conception of the real function of the elementary arts, and partly to another cause which we shall mention later, may be attributed the poor results which our elementary school system has attained in the establishment of interests of moral and social worth. if, moreover, we realise how large a proportion of the children left and still do leave school at an early age, before such interests can be permanently established, and in some cases with anything but an adequate knowledge of the elementary arts necessary for all further progress, we may rather be astonished that so much has been done than so little. but in the reaction against the narrowness and formalism of our early aims in elementary education, there is a tendency--a strong tendency--at the present time to go to the opposite extreme, and to make the elementary instrumental arts the vehicles for the fostering of real interests at too early a stage. this manifests itself on the one hand in the desire to make all instruction interesting to the child, and on the other to introduce the child prematurely to a knowledge of the real conditions of life, before he can have any intelligent understanding of these conditions. from the barrenness and formalism of the earlier period, we now have the demand made that the school should throughout take into account the real and practical necessities of life. the former tendency--the tendency to make everything interesting to the child by lessening or minimising the mechanical difficulties and by endeavouring in every way to incite the child to become interested in the content of the lesson--is best exemplified by the character of the school books which we now place in the hands of our children. the latter tendency--the tendency to the premature use of the elementary arts--is exemplified by the craving to make our teaching of arithmetic practical and real from the very beginning. in the former case, instead of endeavouring to make the process of language construction interesting in itself, we divert the child's attention from the acquiring and organising of the system of language forms to the premature acquirement of the content of language. what results is obvious: the main interest being in the content, the interest in the mechanical construction of the form suffers, and as a consequence the child never attains a full mastery over the instrumental art. in the latter case we attempt to do two things at the same time in our teaching of arithmetic. in every concrete application of arithmetic there are two interests involved: in the first place, there is the number interest--the interest in the analysing and recombining of a group, undertaken for the sake of the reconstruction itself; in the second place, there is the business or real interest, which the number interest indeed subserves, but the two interests are in no case identical. if we attempt to teach the two together, we as a rule teach both badly. the pupil will have but a hazy idea of the business relation, and will run the risk of imperfectly organising the pure number system. hence all kinds of impossible problems may be given to the child without raising any suspicion of error in his mind, and such cases furnish certain evidence that the business relation does not really concern him, but that his whole attention is engaged with the purely constructive aspect of number. another example of the same error of confounding two separate things is the "blind mixture we make of arithmetic and measuring." because arithmetic is involved in all measuring we assume that when the child can add together feet and inches, therefore he has a complete knowledge of these spatial magnitudes. but manifestly, if spatial magnitude is to be taught intelligently, it must at first be taught independently of the number relation, which is a general system instrumental in the realisation of many concrete interests. from these considerations, certain general results follow. on the one hand, the earlier conception of the aim of the primary school as being mainly concerned with the acquirement and organisation of the three elementary arts as ends in themselves must be condemned. language and number systems are means to the realisation of certain concrete ends of after-life, and the school during the later stages of education must endeavour to lead the child to perceive how these systems may be utilised in the furtherance of these real concrete interests. on the other hand, the attempt to combine prematurely these two aims will result in the imperfect attainment of both. during the earlier stages of education the main interest must be in the construction for its own sake of the language system or the number system, and while the real interest may be introduced it must always be kept subsidiary to the main interest--must first of all be taught for its own sake, and the instrumental art only used for its furtherance in so far as the acquirement of the former is not obstructed. _e.g._, the placing of geography and history readers in the hands of the child while he is still struggling with the difficulties of language construction can only result in the history and geography being imperfectly understood and the organisation of the language system being delayed and hindered. once the elementary and subsidiary systems have been fairly well organised and established, their function as means for the furtherance of real interests should occupy a larger share of the child's attention and of the time of the school. these real interests, however, must in every case and at every stage be taught at first for their own sake, and thereafter their relation to the instrumental art explained and applied. gradually, as they become better organised and more firmly established, the elementary arts occupy a smaller and smaller share of attention, until finally they function automatically, and the whole attention can be directed to the furtherance of the real interests to which the elementary arts are the indispensable means. hence we note three stages in the elementary education of the child--the stage preceding the formal instruction in the elementary arts; the stage in which the formal instruction should predominate and receive the greater share of the child's attention; the stage in which the elementary systems having been in great measure organised and established, they may be utilised as means to the furtherance of the real interests. the first stage corresponds to the infant or kindergarten age: here the main object is to build up in the mind of the child systems of ideas about the things of his environment; to extend, by conversation and by reading to the child, the vocabulary of his own language; to give him practice in the combining and recombining of concrete groups of things, and to introduce him to a knowledge of the various language forms in a concrete shape. in the second stage, and here the work of the primary school begins, the main emphasis at the beginning must be laid on the acquirement and establishment of the language and number systems for their own sake. if right methods are followed, the child can be interested in these processes of construction without the need of calling into use at every point some real interest. in the concluding stage the use of these instruments as means to the realisation of the simpler practical ends of life should receive more attention. one reason, then, for the poor moral and social results effected in the past by our elementary school system has been the undue emphasis placed upon the acquisition of the merely formal arts to the neglect of the real interests to which the former are but the means. another cause, however, has been operative in producing this negative result. in the elementary schools, in the past, little attention has been paid to the individuality of the child, and little heed given to the differences between children as regards their different rates of intellectual growth and their differing aptitudes for various branches of study. under a system of classification which compelled each individual, whether intellectually well or moderately or poorly equipped, to advance at an equal rate, attention to the individual with any other aim than to raise the weak to the standard of the average child in acquiring the three r's was impossible. again, our huge city schools, partly on account of their vast size, partly on the ground that they are unable to organise school games, partly on account of their lack of any common school interests, do not and cannot foster any sense of a corporate life, any feeling of a common social spirit. where our english public school system is strong, our elementary and sometimes even our day secondary school systems are weak. if the home fails to foster these qualities, and the school does not or cannot fill the gap, then as a rule we turn out our boys and girls poorly equipped to fulfil their duties in after-life as members of a corporate community and as citizens of a state. mere teaching of history or of civics in our schools will do little to attain this end, unless by some method or other we can foster by means of the school-life the real civic spirit. it is, of course, easy to point out the nature of the disease; it is more difficult to prescribe a remedy. but much might be done to strengthen and increase the moral influence of the school by a better system of classification, which took into account the differences in intellectual capacity and in natural aptitude, and which as a consequence, in the education of the child, paid more attention to each child's individuality. this would involve much smaller classes than exist at present, and would further involve that the children should be under the care of one teacher for a longer time than is now the rule. at the present time, in many cases, the teacher is employed in teaching the same subjects, at the same stage, year after year, to a yearly fresh batch of sixty or seventy children. consequently he learns to look upon his pupils as mere subjects to whom must be imparted the required measure of instruction. of the children in themselves, of their home-life, of their interests outside school, he knows nothing, and as a rule cares less. if in addition to this we ceased erecting barracks for the instruction of children and erected schools for their education, we should make even a further advance in this direction. if it is impossible for other reasons to lessen the size of our city elementary schools, then the remedy lies in the division of the schools into departments in which the head should be entrusted with the supervision of the education of the children during several years. in this way it would be possible for the teacher to get to know each child individually, to direct his education in accordance with his aptitudes, and to exert an influence over him. thus, by giving more attention to the organised games of the school and by the creation of school interests, much might be done to remedy the defects of the school on the side of moral and social education. at best, however, when the home fails, the elementary school can do little, and we must put our trust in the ethical agencies of society to assist and promote the efforts of the school in the furthering of a right social spirit and in the creation of a common corporate feeling. footnotes: [ ] _e.g._, in it was calculated that only per cent. of the children of the poor in england were receiving a satisfactory elementary education. cf. balfour graham's _educational system of great britain and ireland_, p. . [ ] _e.g._, in in scotland school places were provided for only . per cent. of the population. in places were provided for . of the population. cf. _report on scotch education_, , p. . chapter xii the aim of the secondary school we have seen that on its intellectual side the primary school has two main functions to perform in the education of the child. in the first place, the school must endeavour to secure that the elementary arts of reading, writing, and arithmetic are well organised and well established in the mind of the child. the more effectively the language and number systems are organised and established the more efficiently will they function in the performance of future action. moreover, it is only when they have become so organised as to function automatically that they reach their highest efficiency as instruments for the further extension of knowledge or of practice. in the second place, the primary school must train the pupil to the use of these systems as instruments for the realisation of other and concrete ends or interests. _e.g._, the number system may be used in the furtherance of the measuring interest, the weighing interest, and so on. the two dangers we have to avoid are on the one hand the barren formalism of treating the acquisition of these arts as ends in themselves, and on the other of supposing that the real interests can be intelligently understood merely through the instrumentality of the elementary arts and that they do not require independent treatment of themselves. if the child is destined to go no farther than the elementary school stage, then at least the concluding year of the school should be mainly devoted to training him to the use of the primary instrumental arts in the establishment of systems of knowledge necessary for the realisation of the simpler practical ends of life. if, however, the child is selected for a course of higher education, the educative process becomes different in nature. in the first-named case we are content to give the child practice in the application of an already established system to concrete problems. in the second case we endeavour, using the elementary systems as means, to establish other systems of knowledge as means to the attainment of still further ends. we may, _e.g._, on the basis of the vernacular language build up a foreign language system as a means either to commercial intercourse or to literary culture. in short, the aim of the secondary school is, using the elementary systems as the basal means, to organise and establish other systems of means for the attainment of the more complex interests of after-life, practical and theoretical. the object of establishing a system of knowledge is not to pass examinations,--this is the schoolmaster's error,--but to render future action more efficient, to further in after-life some complex interest of a practical or theoretical nature. to the few, indeed, the establishment and systematisation of knowledge may be an end in itself. to the many, the systematisation and establishment is and ought to be undertaken as a means to the more efficient furtherance of some practical end. further, the only justification for the seeking of knowledge for its own sake is that thereby it may be better understood, better established and better systematised, and so become better fitted to make practice more efficient. hence the question as regards secondary education resolves itself into the question as to the nature of the systems of knowledge which we should endeavour to establish systematically in the mind of the child, and before we can answer this question we must know the length of time which the child can afford to spend at the higher school and his possible vocation in after-life. for if education is the process by which the child is led to acquire and organise experiences so as to render future action more efficient, we must know something of the nature of this action, something of the nature of the future social services for which his education is to train him, and the school period must be of sufficient length to enable the required systems to be established permanently and thoroughly. neglect of these two obvious considerations has led in the past and even in the present leads to two errors in our organisation of the means of secondary education. in the first place, until quite recently, we have been too much inclined to the opinion that secondary education was all of one type, and even where this error has been recognised, as in germany, the tendency still exists to emphasise unduly the particular type of education which has as its main ingredients the ancient classical languages. we spend years in the attempt to reconstruct and establish in the mind of the youth a knowledge of these language systems, and in a large number of cases we fail to attain adequately even this end. we build up laboriously systems of means which in after-life function _directly_ in the attainment of no end, and as a consequence, in many cases, the dissolution of the system is as rapid as its acquisition was slow. at the time of the renascence and when first introduced into the curriculum of the secondary school, these languages, and especially latin, did then possess a high functional value, since they were the indispensable means to the furtherance of knowledge and to social intercourse. to-day they possess little functional value, and their claim for admission into the school curriculum is chiefly based upon their so-called training and disciplinary values. let us consider this for a moment: in the reconstruction of, say, the latin language, the pupil is being trained in the reconstruction and re-establishment of a language system whose methods and rules of construction are much more complex and intricate than those of any living language, and whose forms are so designed as to bring out exactly varied shades of meaning. hence, in its acquisition the pupil receives practice in the exact discrimination of the meaning of words, and in their accurate placing and reconstruction within the sentence--the unit of expression--in order to bring out the exact interpretation of the thought or statement of fact intended by the writer. further, we may train the pupil during the school period to self-apply the language system in the further interpretation of relatively unknown passages. in short, we can train him in the processes of language construction and of language application. moreover, in considering this question, we must take into account that during the school period the main interest must necessarily be directed to the acquisition and establishment of the system itself, that little attention can be directed towards the content for its own sake, and that the establishment of the system so that it shall function automatically in the interpretation of the content is a stage which is attained in comparatively few cases, and then only after many years of study. if we then take into account, and we must take into account, the fact that the chief value of the ancient languages as secondary school subjects lies in their use as training and disciplinary instruments--that in after-life they function directly in the attainment of no practical end, and only indirectly in so far as the habits acquired of the exact weighing of the meaning of words and of the accurate placing of words are carried over for the attainment of practical ends in which these qualities of exact interpretation and exact expression of language are the chief requisites--we shall understand that while they may be of value in securing the efficient after-performance of certain social services, they play but a small part in the furthering of any service which requires an exact knowledge of the qualities of things and an accurate knowledge of the laws governing the operations of nature. in the second place, neglect of the fact that the aim of education is to establish systems of means for the efficient after-performance of actions has led us to neglect the fact that in the acquisition and establishment of systems of knowledge we require to limit the scope of our aims and to carry on the process of education during a period sufficiently extended to admit of the stable establishment of the systems. if, _e.g._, we attempt to establish too many systems, then as a result we often stably establish none, with the further result that after the school period has passed the knowledge gained soon disappears. if, again, we attempt in too limited a time to establish an elaborate and complex system of knowledge, as _e.g._ that of the latin language, then we never reach the stage when it can be self-applied intelligently in the furtherance of any end. hence, if a boy leaves the elementary school and enters upon a high school course with the intention of leaving at the age of fifteen or sixteen and entering upon some employment, the systems of knowledge which can be established during the school period must be different from those of the boy whose education is intended to be extended until twenty-one. if, then, a national system of education is to make adequate provision for the efficient after-performance of the various social services which the nation requires at the hands of its adult members; if, in short, it is to be organic to the life of the state as a whole, then there must be not one type of higher education but several; for it is to her higher schools that a nation must principally look for the preparation of citizens who in after-life will discharge the more important services of the community. this truth has already been realised in other countries, notably germany. we are only beginning to realise it, and to take measures to carry it into practice. moreover, in a national system of education we shall need not one system of advancing means but several; not merely an educational ladder that may carry the boy to the university, but also educational steps by which the individual may mount to the technical or the commercial or the art college. hence our aims in the higher education of the youth, and as a consequence the nature of the systems of knowledge which we should endeavour to organise and to establish in their minds, will vary in accordance with the nature of the service which in adult life the boy is likely to perform. now, these services may be divided into four main classes. in the first place, every nation requires an army of efficient industrial workers. partly, in some cases, owing to the decline of the apprenticeship system, partly owing to the fact that where apprentices are still employed no systematic measures are taken to instruct the youth in the principles underlying his particular art, it is becoming increasingly necessary that the school should supply and supplement the knowledge required for the efficient after-performance of the industrial and technical arts. hence one kind of higher school urgently required is the trade or technical school. in a large number of cases this need could be supplied by evening continuation schools. at present, however, our evening schools are too predominantly commercial and literary, and do not make adequate provision for the trade and technical needs of the community. further, we must endeavour to secure that the boy or girl enters the evening continuation school as soon after he leaves the elementary school as possible. for in many cases at the present time the boy after leaving the primary school loafs at night about the streets, and in a short time through disuse forgets much of what he learned at school, and often in addition acquires habits which tend to unfit him for any future strenuous effort. when, therefore, he feels the need for more knowledge in order to advance in his trade, the evening school has too frequently to begin by doing over again the work of the elementary school before it can enter upon the work of establishing the higher system of knowledge. in the second place, a nation such as ours requires a trained body of servants for the efficient carrying on of her commerce. preparation for the simpler forms of service could be furnished by the commercial classes of the evening continuation schools. for preparation for the higher services, we require a type of school which beginning after the elementary school stage has been completed, carries on the boy's education until the fifteenth or sixteenth year, whose chief aim should be to lay a sound basis in the acquisition and organisation of one or two modern languages and in the acquirement of the arts instrumental for the carrying on of commercial transactions. further means of advance in these studies should be provided by the day or evening commercial college. in the third place, every modern nation requires a trained body of scientific workers for the after carrying on of her industrial and technical arts. hence we need a type of school which by making the physical sciences their chief object of study prepare the way for the future training of the student in the application of scientific knowledge to the furtherance of the industrial and technical arts. lastly, we require a type of secondary education which shall prepare the boy for the efficient discharge of the duties which the state requires at the hands of her physicians, her theologians, her jurists. thus, since all education is the acquisition of experiences that will render future action more efficient, the nature of the secondary education given must depend on the nature of the services to which the systems of knowledge are the means. a classical education may be a good preparation for the after-discharge of the duties of the theologian or the jurist; it certainly will not do much for the efficient discharge of the duties of the mechanical engineer and the practical chemist. but one error must be avoided. whilst the various types of secondary school must fashion their curricula according to the nature of the services for which they prepare, we must not forget that the school has other duties to perform than the mere preparation for the social services by which a man hereafter earns his living. it must in every case endeavour to organise and establish those systems of means necessary for the after-discharge of the civic duties of life and instrumental for the right use of leisure. practically we need three types of higher school--one in which modern languages form the basal subjects of the curriculum; one in which the physical sciences are the main systems organised and established; one in which the classical languages form the main staple of education. chapter xiii the aim of the university "all public institutions of learning are called into existence by social needs, and first of all by technical practical necessities. theoretical interests may lead to the founding of private associations such as the greek philosophers' schools; public schools owe their origin to the social need for professional training. thus during the middle ages the first schools were called into being by the need of professional training for ecclesiastics, the first learned profession, and a calling whose importance seemed to demand such training. essentially the same necessity called into being the universities of the parisian type, with their artistic and theological faculties. the two other types of professional schools, the law school and the medical school, which were first developed in italy, then united with the former. the universities therefore originated as a union of 'technical' schools for ecclesiastics, jurists, and physicians, to which division the faculty of arts was related as a general preparatory school, until during the nineteenth century it also assumed something of the character of a professional institution for the training of teachers for the secondary school."[ ] thus the early aim of the university was, as it still continues to be, to provide the training for the after-supply of those services which the state requires at the hands of her theologians, her jurists, and her physicians. in germany, and to some extent even in our own country, the arts faculty of the university is ceasing to perform the function of a general preparatory school to the professional schools, and is becoming an independent school, having for its aim the preparation of teachers for the intermediate and secondary schools of the country. in scotland, indeed, it serves at the present time as a preparatory school mainly to the theological faculty. as the secondary schools of the country become more efficient, better differentiated, and better organised, the need of a preparatory school within our universities will gradually become less, and the university will be able to devote more of her energies to the training of students preparing for some one or other of the above-named professions. with this change the philosophical studies of the arts faculty will become increasingly important, and the method of teaching the linguistic and scientific studies receive a larger share of attention than they do at present. but the other and perhaps the more important function of the university is to carry on and to extend the work of scientific and literary research for its own sake. this is the dominant note of the german and american universities of to-day. the emphasis is laid not so much upon their function as schools for the supply of certain professional services, but upon them as great national laboratories for the extension of knowledge and the betterment of practice. in great britain, and especially in scotland, this conception of the function of the university has not received the same prominence as, _e.g._, in germany, where the intimate union of scientific investigation and professional instruction gives the german universities their peculiar character. indeed, in the latter country the tendency at the present time is rather to over-emphasise the function of the universities in furthering scientific and literary research to the neglect of the other and no less important aim. two dangers must be avoided. in the first place, whenever the chief emphasis is laid upon the universities as mainly schools for professional training, the teaching tends to become narrow and dogmatic. the teacher ceasing to be an investigator, gradually loses touch with the spirit of the age, and as a consequence he fails adequately to perform the duty of efficiently training his students for their after life-work. in the second place, when the emphasis is laid strongly upon the function of the university as an institution for the carrying on of scientific and literary research there is the danger of again lapsing into the old fallacy that knowledge for knowledge' sake is an end in itself, that the object of education is to acquire and organise systems of means which function in the attainment of no practical end, and that the acquisition of knowledge is valuable for the culture of the individual mind apart from any social purpose which the knowledge subserves. the university must therefore ever keep in view the two aims, of advancing knowledge not for its own sake but in order that future action may be rendered more efficient, and of adequately training for professional services. but to the older professions for which the university prepares there have been added during the past century other vocations or professions which need and demand an education no less important and no less thorough than the education for the well established recognised professions. the need for the higher training of the future leaders of industry and the future captains of commerce has been provided by the organisation and establishment of technological schools and colleges. the establishment and organisation of the "technical university" has been more thorough in germany than in this country. there we find established newer institutions, of which the charlottenburg college is the best known and most important, for the higher education of those intended in after-life to perform the more important industrial services of the community. these institutions both in their organisation and instruction are constantly approximating in type to the older universities. the recently established universities in the north of england attempt, with what success it is too early yet to declare, to combine both aims of training for the older and newer professions. in scotland the latter work is largely undertaken by the technical colleges, and in these institutions the increasing need is for the extension and development of the day-school course. one other question of some importance remains for brief consideration. in our own country, but more especially in germany, there is a tendency at the present time to effect a complete separation between the work of the university and the work of the technical college. this separation has arisen partly through the operation of external historical conditions, but it has also arisen partly through the tendency in certain academic circles to look down upon technical knowledge and ability as something inferior. the exclusiveness and the torpor of the older universities in many cases has been a further cause tending to the creation of the technical college separated from the university. such a separation, however, is good neither for the university nor for the technical college. the former in carrying out the aim of scientific research and of the extension of knowledge requires ever the vivifying touch of actual concrete experience, and this it can only obtain by keeping in close contact with those whose chief function is the application of scientific knowledge to practice. the latter in carrying out its more practical aims requires, if it is to be saved from the narrowness of mere specialisation and from degenerating into empirical methods, the constant co-operation of those whose outlook is not narrowed down to the immediate practical end, but takes in the subject as a whole, and whose chief function is the better systematisation of knowledge. hence, while the aim of the university is different from that of the technical college, they are so intimately correlated that neither can reach its fullest development without the aid and co-operation of the other. the technical colleges should be the professional schools attached to the scientific side of the universities. moreover, this division and separation is economically wasteful, since the general training in science which must precede the practical training has to be carried on both in the university and in the technical college. in scotland this separation has not advanced to such a stage as is the case in germany. in any further reorganisation of university and higher education it is earnestly to be hoped that the day technical college will find its rightful place as an integral part of the university, and that the latter may realise that her function is to further and extend the bounds of knowledge in order that practice in every sphere of life may be rendered more efficient. footnote: [ ] cf. prof. paulsen, _the german universities_, p. (eng. trans.). chapter xiv conclusion--the present problems in education the first necessity of the present for teachers and for all concerned with the upbringing of children is to realise the true meaning of education--that it is the process by which we lead the child to acquire and organise experiences that will render future action more efficient; that by our educational agencies we seek to establish systems of knowledge that shall hereafter function in the efficient performance of services of social value; and that the only method which really educates and can educate is the method which evokes the constructive activity of reason in the establishment of the various systems of means. education does not aim at culture nor at knowledge for its own sake, but at fitting the individual for social service. our school system tends ever to forget this truth. it is in constant danger of losing sight of this ultimate aim of education by keeping its attention too narrowly fixed on some nearer and proximate aim. it tends often to lay too much stress on mere examinations and examination results. it forgets that the only true test of knowledge gained lies in the pupil's ability to use it intelligently in the furtherance of some purpose--and of some social purpose, and that the ultimate test of a system of education is the kind of social individual it turns out. if our educational system turns out boys and girls who in after-life become efficient workers, efficient citizens, and men and women who have learned how to use their leisure rightly, then it has fulfilled its function. if, on the other hand, it fails in a large number of cases to attain these three ends or any one of them, however it may satisfy the other tests applied, it has not performed its function, is not a system which is "organic" to the welfare of the state. the second necessity is to realise the true place of the school as the formal agent in the education of the child. mankind by a long and laborious process has discovered and established many systems of knowledge. he has created language and invented arts for the realisation of the many purposes of life. it is the business of the school to impart this knowledge to the child--to put him in possession at least of some part of this heritage which has come down to him, and to do so in such a manner that while acquiring the experience he shall also be trained in the method of finding and establishing systems of means for himself and by himself. if, however, we lay the emphasis on the mere imparting of the garnered experiences of the ages, the danger to be feared is lest our teaching degenerate into mere dogmatism or mere cram. if, on the other hand, we lay too much emphasis on the ability to self-find and self-establish systems, we are in danger of losing sight of the social purpose of all knowledge--of forgetting that the only justification for establishing a system of knowledge is that it may efficiently function in the attainment of some purpose of life. of the more important of the practical problems of our own day and generation the first and most important is to realise that our educational system as it exists at present is not fitted to produce and maintain an efficient and sufficient supply of all the social services which the modern state requires of its adult members, and that we must consider this question of education as a whole and in all its parts, and quite clear of mere party interests. above all, we must get over the fatal habit of reforming one part of the system and leaving the other parts alone. the whole problem of education from the primary school to the university requires consideration and organisation. we reform now our universities, then after a period our secondary school system, and so we proceed, advancing here, retrograding there, but of education as an organically connected whole we have no thought. but apart from the want of organisation as a whole our educational system in its parts is at present defective. we require to reconsider the question of how best to educate the children of the very poor. at present we fail in a large number of cases to train up the children of this class to be socially efficient. economically and morally we fail to reach any high standard. no doubt the home and social environment is all against the school influence; but by a more rational system of early education, by taking more care of the physical development of the child, and, if need be, for a time, making public provision for the feeding of the children of the very poor, we might do much to remove this defect. above all, we must endeavour to stem the yearly flow of boys and girls at the conclusion of the primary school period into mere casual and unskilled employments, and must endeavour by some means or other to continue the education of the child for some years further. again, we require to make better provision for the technical training of our workmen. by a system of evening continuation schools having as their aim the instruction of the youth in the arts underlying or subsidiary to his particular calling, we might do much to amend this defect. moreover, the evening continuation schools might play a much more important part than they now do in the securing of the future moral and civic efficiency of the individual and of the nation. lastly, and this need is clearly felt by all acquainted with the subject, we require the development and extension of our technical colleges, in order that we may adequately train those whose duty in after-life will be the application of advanced scientific knowledge in the furtherance of the arts and industries of life. _printed by_ morrison & gibb limited, _edinburgh_ a girl's student days and after by jeannette marks, m. a. (_wellesley_) _with an introduction by_ _mary emma woolley, ll. d._ _president of mt. holyoke college_ _new york chicago toronto_ _fleming h. revell company_ _london and edinburgh_ copyright, , by fleming h. revell company new york: fifth avenue chicago: north wabash ave. toronto: richmond street, w. london: paternoster square edinburgh: princes street _inscribed to mary emma woolley, ll. d._ _introduction_ the school and college girl is an important factor in our life to-day. around her revolve all manner of educational schemes, to her are open all kinds of educational opportunities. there was never an age in which so much thought was expended upon her, or so much interest felt in her development. there are many articles written and many speeches delivered on the responsibility of parents and teachers--it may not be amiss occasionally to turn the shield and show that some of the responsibility rests upon the girl herself. after all, she is the determining factor, for buildings and equipment, courses and teachers accomplish little without her coöperation. it is difficult for the "new girl," whether in school or college, to realize the extent to which the success of her school life depends upon herself. in a new environment, surrounded by what seem to her "multitudes" of new faces, obliged to meet larger demands under strange and untried conditions, she is quite likely to go to the other extreme and exaggerate her own insignificance. sometimes she is fortunate enough to have an older sister or friend to help her steer her bark through these untried waters, but generally she must find her own bearings. to such a girl, the wise hints in the chapters which follow this introduction are invaluable, giving an insight into the meaning of fair-play in the classroom as well as on the athletic field; the relation between physical well-being and academic success; the difference between the social life that is _re_-creative and that which is "_nerves_-creative"; the significance of loyalty to the school and to the home; the way in which school days determine to a large degree the days that come after. these, and many other suggestions, wise and forceful, i commend not only to the new girl, but also to the "old girl" who would make her school and college days count for more both while they last and as preparation for the work that is to follow. mary e. woolley. _mt. holyoke college_, _south hadley, massachusetts._ _contents_ a word to the wise i. the ideal freshman ii. the girl and the school iii. friendships iv. the student's room v. the tools of study and their use vi. the joy of work vii. fair-play viii. the right sort of leisure ix. the outdoor runway x. a girl's summer xi. from the school to the girl xii. the work to be _a word to the wise_ we train for basket-ball, golf, tennis or for whatever sport we have the most liking. is there any reason why we should not use the same intelligence in the approach to our general school life? is there any reason why we should make an obstacle race, however good and amusing exercise that may be, out of _all_ our school life? we don't expect to win a game with a sprained wrist or ankle, and there really is no reason why we should plan to sprain the back of school or college life by avoidable mistakes. the writer believes in the girl who has the capacity for making mistakes,--that headlong, energetic spirit which blunders all too easily. but the writer knows how much those mistakes hurt and how much energy might be saved for a life that, with just a pinch less of blunder, might be none the less savoury. school and college are no place for vocal soloists, and after some of us have sung so sweetly and so long at home, with every one saying, "just hear mary sing, isn't it wonderful!" it is rather trying, you know, to go to a place where vocal solos are not popular. and we wish some one--at least i did--had told us all about this fact as well as other facts of school life. anyway it should be a comfort to have a book lying on the table in our school or college room, or at home, which will tell us why mary, after having been a famous soloist at home made a failure or a great success in chorus work at school. such a book is something like having a loaded gun in readiness for the robber. we may never use the shotgun or the book but they are there, with the reassuring sense of shot in the locker. it is something, is it not, to have a little book which will tell you how to get into school and how to get out (for at times there seem to be difficulties in both these directions)--in short, to tell you something of many things: your first year at school or college, your part in the school life, the friendships you will make, your study and how to work in it, the pleasure and right kind of spirit involved in work, the quiet times, as well as the jolly times, out-of-doors, your summers and how to spend them, what the school has tried to do for you; and, as you go out into the world, some of the aspects, whether you are to be wife, secretary or teacher, of the work which you will do. of one thing you may be certain; that behind every sentence of this little book is experience, that here are only those opinions of which experience has made a good, wholesome zwieback. i wish to take this opportunity to thank my friend, mrs. belle kellogg towne, editor of _the girls' companion_ and _young people's weekly_, chicago, for her coöperation in allowing me to use half the material in this little book; also dr. c. r. blackall, of philadelphia. _camp runway._ j. m. i the ideal freshman freshman year, the beginning year, the year of new experiences, new delights, new work, new friends, new surroundings; the year that may mean much to a girl, that may answer some of the questions that have lain long in heart and mind, that will surely reveal her more clearly to herself, that may make her understand others better and help her to guess something of the riddle of the years to come! what has the student done to get ready for this year? if she were going camping she would know that certain things were necessary to make the expedition a success. with what excitement and pleasure, what thoughts of jolly camp-fires, deep, sweet-smelling forests, and long days afoot, she would prepare everything. she would not let any one else do this for her, for that would mean losing too much of the fun. but the _freshman year_, what about the thinking and planning for that, also an expedition into a new world, and a veritable adventure of a vast deal more importance than a few days or weeks of camping? would she enter forests upon whose trees the camp-fires throw many shadows, follow the stream that cleaves its way through the woods, go along the runway of deer or caribou or moose, with a mind to all intents and purposes a blank? no, her mind would be vivid with thoughts and interests. with the same keen attention should she enter the new year at school or college, and as she passes through it, thinking about all that comes to her, she will find it growing less and less difficult and more and more friendly. she will consider what the freshman year is to be like, think of what sorts of girls she is to meet and make friends with, what the work will be, what she may expect in good times from this new adventure, and, thoughtful about it all, make the minimum of mistakes and get the maximum of benefit. here come some of the girls who are entering school and college with her--bright-haired, dark-haired, rosy or pale, tall and thin, fat and short, clever and average, desirable and undesirable,--in fact, all sorts and conditions of girls. who is to be the leader of them all? she is the _ideal freshman_, a nice, well-set-up girl who does not think too much of herself, who is not self-conscious, and who does not forget for what she is sent to school. despite the temptations of school life she uses her days wisely and well. she does not isolate herself, for she sees the plan and value of the recreative side of school-days. she is already laying the foundations for a successful, useful, normal existence, establishing confidence at the outset and not handicapping herself through her whole course by making people lose their faith in her. our _ideal freshman_ may be the girl who is to do distinguished work; she may be the student who does her best; and because it is her best, the work, though not brilliant, is distinguished by virtue of her effort. she may be the girl who is to make a happy home life through her poise and earnestness and common sense. whoever she is, in any event in learning to do her best she is winning nine-tenths of the battle of a successful career. it is she, attractive, able, earnest, with the "fair-play" or team-play spirit in all she does, true to herself and to others, whom every school wants, whose unconscious influence is so great in building up the morale of any school. mark this girl and follow her, for she is worthy of your hero worship. this is the girl who goes into school in much the same spirit that she would enter upon a larger life. she is not a prig and she is not a dig, but she knows there are responsibilities to be met and she meets them. she expects to have to think about the new conditions in which she finds herself and to adjust herself to them, and she does it. she knows the meaning of the team-play spirit and she takes her place quietly on the team, one among many, and both works and plays with respect for the rights and positions of others. it is in the temper of the words sometimes stamped upon the coins of our country--_e pluribus unum_--that she makes a success of her school life. she knows that not only is our country bigger than any one of its states, but also that every school is bigger than any one of its members whether teacher or student. in a small family at home conditions have been more or less made for her, just as they are for other girls. yet she knows that the school life is complicated and complex, and it is impossible for her to feel neglected where a more self-centred or spoiled girl fails to see that in this new life she is called upon to play a minor part but nevertheless a part upon which the school must rely for its _esprit de corps_. she goes with ease from the somewhat unmethodical life of the home to the highly organized routine of the school because she understands the meaning of the word "team-play." she has the coöperative spirit. yet there are other girls, too, in this school which the freshman is entering. there is the student who errs on the side of leading too workaday a life, and in so doing has lost something of the buoyancy and breadth and "snap" which would make her associations and her work fresher and more vigorous. "the grind," she has been called, and if she recognize herself in this sketch, let her take care to reach out for a bigger and fuller life than she is leading. and there is, too, the selfish student whose "class-spirit" is self-spirit; and the girl who is not selfish but who uses herself up in too many interests, dramatic, athletic, society, philanthropic and in a dozen others. she is probably over-conscientious, a good girl in every way, but in doing too much she loses sight of the real aim of her school life. to these must be added another student,--the freshman who skims the surface, and is, when she gets out, where she was when she entered--no, not quite so far along, for she has slipped back. she is selfish, relying upon the patience and burden-bearing capacity of her father and mother, as well as the school. no doubt every girl would meet her obligations squarely if she realized what was the underlying significance of the freshman year; the school life would surely be approached with a conscientious purpose. what a girl gets in school will much depend upon what she has to give. no girl is there simply to have a good time or merely to learn things out of books. nor is she there to fill in the interim between childhood and young womanhood, when one will go into society, another marry, and a third take up some wage-earning career. no, she is there to carry life forward in the deepest, truest sense; and the longer she can have to get an education and to make the best of the opportunities of school and college life, the richer and fuller her after-years will be. both middle life and old age will be deeper and stronger. let us think about these girls, let us think about what it means to be a freshman, and so lessen our difficulties and increase our pleasures; let us have a big conception,--a large ideal always at heart--of what the _first year_ should be, and beginning well we shall be the more likely to end well. ii the girl and the school inside school or college the girl is in several ways responsible for the atmosphere. merely in her conversation she can be of service or dis-service. it may be simply a good joke which she is telling, but if the joke misrepresents the school she will, perhaps, do lasting harm. if she is hypercritical--and there is nothing so contagious as criticism--she influences people in the direction of her thought; she sets a current of criticism in motion. a student frequently gives vent to an opinion that is only half-baked--it is well, by the way, to make zwieback of all our opinions before we pass them around as edible--about courses and instructors. she does not realize that some opinions to be worth anything must be the result of a long process of baking, that a nibble from the corner of a four months' or nine months' course will not, however understandingly it may be fletcherized, tell you whether the course is going to be fruit cake, meringue or common soda crackers. she may think that she herself is so unimportant that what she says can't matter, or she may not mean what she says and be merely letting off steam. nevertheless her influence is exerted. some one showed an old lady, who had never been known to say anything in the least critical of any human being, the picture of a very fat man prominent in public life. she looked at it a moment, and then said sweetly: "my, isn't he plump!" if only there were more old and young ladies like that dear soul! there is another kind of conversation which may not be ill-natured and yet does harm. idle gossiping, talking about things that are not worth while or speculating about affairs which are not our business and of which we know little or nothing. akin to this is fashionably slangy conversation concerning the latest thing in books, magazine articles, trivial plays. for even the "tone" of school or college conversation a student is responsible. she can make her school seem cheap or cultivated. the remarks which visitors overhear as they go from room to room or from building to building are likely to indicate the "tone" of an institution. a catalogue may say all it pleases about a school but in the end the school is judged by the women it educates and sends out, even as a tree is known by its fruit. cultivated, strong women are worth more in advertisement than all the printed material in the world, however laudatory. when a girl has received everything her alma mater has to give, she has no right to be untrue to its fundamental aims and ideals, or to misrepresent it in any way, either by what she says or by her own behaviour. every student in a large institution is in a sense a pensioner. no student can pay for what is given to her. is it not a poor return for her to be reflecting dishonour rather than honour upon her school? there is a certain social selfishness in the way some students take their opportunities for granted without realizing that there are thousands and hundreds of thousands of girls who would give all that they possess for a tithe of such riches. also, because of the sacrifice which is being made for them at home girls are selfish in taking their school or college life carelessly. the school has to bear much of the responsibility for the individual failure. but of this the student who is failing rarely thinks. parents hold an institution to blame if it does not do for their child what they expect it to do, when it may be the girl who is at fault. in the use she makes of her portion of inheritance, in the gift the school bestows on the student, there is a large social question involved. the school gives her of its wealth, the result of the accumulation of years and of the civic or philanthropic spirit of many men and women. this, if the girl's sense of responsibility is what it should be, she feels bound to increase and hand on. it is the old _noblesse oblige_ under new conditions of privilege. while she is still in school the girl discharges part of this obligation by realizing what is best for her school as an institution. a college or a big school is no place for vocal soloists. its life is the life of an orchestra, of many instruments playing together. the student's sense of responsibility is shown by her attitude towards the corporate government and administration of the school. instead of regarding the laws of her school as natural enemies, chafing against them, making fun of them or evading them if possible, she has a duty in fulfilling them. the consciousness of this responsibility is the very heart and soul of the student self-government movement, for it recognizes not only the obligation placed upon its members by an institution, but also the wide influence one girl may have on others. student government knows that upper class girls can determine the spirit of the under classes. even looking at the matter from the lightest point of view, respectful and law-abiding ways are always well-bred ways. when a student becomes an alumna she can discharge a large part of her great responsibility by realizing that it is not any longer so much a question of what her school can give her as of what she can give to her school. one thing she can always give it--that is, kindly judgment. and she can acknowledge that her ideas of what her alma mater is after her own school-days may not be correct. the school, sad to say, is sometimes placed in the position of the kindly old farmer who, hearing others call a certain man a liar, said: "waal now, i wouldn't say he wuz a _liar_. that's a bit harsh. i'd say he handled the truth mighty careless-like." schools find that some of their alumnæ handle the truth mighty careless-like. while she is still a student a girl's service to her school lies largely in her daily work, the mental muscle she puts into all that she does in the classroom and studies out of it. if because of her and a multiple of many girls like her, the college does not possess that _sine qua non_ of all the higher mental life, an intellectual atmosphere, it is the student's and her multiple's fault. "you may lead a horse to water but you cannot make it drink," may be an old adage, but it would be hard to improve upon it. you may set before students a veritable thanksgiving feast of things intellectual, but if they have no eagerness, no appetite for them, the feast remains untouched. energy and hunger of the mind, not the anxious hosts, will in the end decide whether that feast is or is not to be eaten. the school considers not only scholarship but also the sum of all that it is, its culture, its attainment, its moral force, as these elements are expressed in its living members, its students and its teachers--in short, its idealism. idealism is having one's life governed by ideals, and an ideal is a perfect conception of that which is good, beautiful and true. if the girl's life is not governed by ideals, how, then, can the school hope to have its idealism live or grow? frequently students think of the ideals of college or school as of something outside themselves, more or less intangible, with which they may or may not be concerned. students cannot do their institution a greater injury than by harbouring such a thought, for if their sense of responsibility will only make the idea of the school personal, then indeed will the school be like that house upon which the rains descended and the winds blew but it fell not, for it was founded upon a rock. iii friendships homesickness and friendships, how much and how vivid a part they play in the first year, or years, of school life! an old coloured physician was asked about a certain patient who was very ill. "i'll tell you de truf," was the reply. "widout any perception, phoebe pamela may die and she may get well; dere's considerable danger bofe ways." i will tell you one truth about the first year of school life: friends there will surely be, and homesickness there is likely to be,--there is "considerable danger both ways." even if a girl has never been away from home before, it is possible that she will not suffer from homesickness. it is probable, however, that the new surroundings in which the girl finds herself, and the separation from those who are the centre of her personal life, will bring on an attack of this most painful malady. it takes time to fit comfortably into the new surroundings, and meanwhile everything is strange. homesickness is not to be laughed at, but it must be less deadly, less fatal than some people think it, or there would not be so many recoveries. girls often weep when they enter school, and then after the long dreary years are really over, lived through, and the poor forlorn freshman is metamorphosed into the senior, they weep again. is it not strange that these seniors who wept on entering school should weep also when leaving it? it looks in the end as if phoebe pamela were sure to get well. yet the effort to get well requires a fine effort at self-control,--an effort every girl is the better for making, although it may take everything plucky in a girl to "back up" her intention to remain in school. the earlier the student considers this question of homesickness the better. let her face its possibilities before she goes away from home, and make up her mind, if she is attacked, resolutely to overcome it. if it comes, let her never give up the struggle, for, by giving in, she will only lose ground in every way, morally, socially, intellectually. by her cowardice she will part with what she can never recover later. many temptations follow in the wake of homesickness, and the most serious of all is to make friends too rapidly. it may be laid down as a rule that a friendship formed on this stop-gap principle, and too rapidly, is not likely to endure. such a friendship is not a sane or a wise relation, for friendship is like scholarship: if it is worth anything at all it comes slowly. impulsive, quickly forced friendships are not wise investments; the very fact that they come so quickly implies an unbalanced state of idealizing, or lack of self-control. this does not mean that one is not to form pleasant acquaintances from the very beginning of the school life. acquaintanceship always holds something in reserve and is the safest prelude to a deeper and more vital friendship. there is no denying that there is great temptation to violent admirations and attractions in school. in the first place, in school or college the girl is brought into contact with a large circle of people who are immensely interesting to her. the whole atmosphere is full of novelty, of the unusual. some of the students and teachers whom she meets for the first time represent a broader experience, it may be, than her own home life has given her. they are often new types and new types are always interesting. i shall say nothing of the idealism of friendship--it plays its part in other books. it would seem sometimes as if almost too much emphasis had been placed upon the making of friendships in school,--friendship which is, after all, but a by-product, the most valuable it is true, nevertheless a by-product of the life. wholly practical are the tests of friendship which i shall give. in the first place a friend is too absorbing who takes all of one's interest to the exclusion of everything else: there should be interest in other people, other activities as well as in one's work. such a friendship can only make a girl forget for what she has come to school. the new relation which disposes one to look with less respect and affection upon one's own people and home--and they, be it remembered, have stood the most valuable test of all, the test of time--cannot be a good influence. it may be said in general that an association which is developing the less fine traits in one's character, giving emphasis to the less worthy sides, should be relinquished immediately, even at the cost of much heartache. the heartache will be only temporary; the bad influence might become permanent. on the other hand, since friendship is giving as well as taking, one does well to consider the fact that if one's own part in it does not tell for good, there is just as much reason for stopping the friendship where it is. some of these associations--and this is a hard saying, i know--which seem everything at the time are nothing, as the years will prove. a girl idealizes, and idealizes those who are not worthy. inevitably the day comes when she laughs at herself,--if she does not do worse and pity herself for having been such a goose. only a few of the friendships made in school are destined to endure. one of the foremost of those that last is founded on similarity of interest. perhaps it is the girl with whom one has worked side by side in the laboratory,--a relation formed slowly and on a permanent basis. many of the best of friends have come together through community of interests, and this is a type of friendship for which men have a greater gift than women. there is still another type which develops because of some conspicuously noble or fine quality which proves attractive. hero worship, this, which enlarges one's self through the admiration given to another. then there is the friendship based on a purely personal attraction, with mutual respect and self-respect as its dedicated corner-stone. this does not mean that one cannot see any faults in the friend, or know that one's own are seen, without losing affection. there is always something flimsy and insecure about a friendship that simply idealizes. any relation should be all the stronger for a frank acknowledgment of its imperfections. if a girl cares enough she will be willing to admit her own faults and wish to make herself more worthy to be a friend. and, finally, there is what might be called the lend-a-hand friendship,--the relation that springs into existence because of the need which is seen in another. it is not fair to make a packhorse of one's friend or to turn one's self into the leaning variety of plant, but it is fair and wise and right, if one is strong enough to accomplish the end in view, to lend a hand to another girl who is not making the best of herself. have a good time but do not swear eternal allegiance in this first year to anybody, however wonderful she may seem. hold yourself in reserve, if for no other reason, then on account of the old friends at home, whether they be kin or no-kin, for they have been true. and remember, as i have said before, friendship is like scholarship and must by its nature come slowly. iv the student's room there has been a general improvement in student rooms, yet many rooms to-day have altogether too much in them: too many pictures, too many banners, too much furniture, too many hangings. the great fault of most rooms is this overcrowding. if we were only heroic enough to make a bonfire of nine-tenths of all they contain we should see suddenly revealed possibilities for something like the ideal room. one serious and obvious objection to the overcrowding of rooms is the hygienic. i am tempted to say that this is the most important objection: indeed, since health is more important than wealth, i will say so. a girl has neither the time nor the ability to keep so many articles in a room clean: and while she is busy attending to her studies, some cherished ornaments are not only laying up dust for the future, as a more regenerate life will lay up treasures, but also breeding germs, perhaps collecting the very germs which will take this girl away from school or college. besides, bric-à-brac not only gathers dust and breeds germs but also wearies the nerves. it makes one tired to see so many things about, and tired to be held responsible for them. without realizing it, we resist the amount of space they occupy and in their place want the air and sunshine. subconsciously, most of us long to get rid of our bric-à-brac and then pull down the draperies that keep out the sunlight. the simpler the window draperies in a room, the more easily washed, the better and more attractive. for wholesome attractiveness there is no fabric that can excel a flood of warm sunshine. any girl or woman who has curtains which she must protect from strong light by drawing down the shades is guilty of a household sin whose greatness she cannot know. that same sunshine, freely admitted, will do more to cleanse a house than all the soap, all the brooms, and even all the vacuum cleaners ever invented. the so-called beauty of a room should always give way before the hygiene of a room. not only should the room be sensibly furnished so that it may have plenty of air and light, but closets should not contain articles of furniture which belong where the air can reach them. there is a difference between a room that is not orderly and one that is not clean. a room that contains unclean articles in drawers or closets, unclean floors, unclean rugs and hangings and unclean walls, should not be tolerated for an instant. if a girl turns a combination bedroom and study in school or college into a kitchen, if an ice-cream freezer occupies all the foreground of this place she calls home, and chafing-dishes with cream bottles, sardine tins, cracker boxes, paper bags full of stale biscuits, fruit skins, dish-cloths and grease-spotted walls, all the background, it is impossible to have a clean room to live in. the golden rule applies to rooms as well as to human beings and should read, "do unto a room as you would it should do unto you." and not only for the sake of health should this golden rule for rooms be observed but also for the sake of the college or school. the room that belongs to us only for a time should be as thoughtfully cared for as if it were our own personal property. there is something inconsistent, isn't there, in educating a girl in high thinking and fine ideals, if she is willing to live in a room that for uncleanliness many a woman in some crowded quarter of a city would consider a disgrace? such contradiction in mind and surrounding is out of harmony with all one's ideal for a gentlewoman. not only beauty is restful, peace-giving and peace-bringing, but so, also, are neatness and order. orderliness helps to fit one for work. there is undoubtedly some connection between surroundings and one's mental state. in themselves disorder and confusion are irritating. the sight of a dirty child crying in the doorway of an untidy house suggests some connection between the wretchedness of the child and the squalor of the home. i often think of william morris, the great craftsman and charming poet, who had much at heart the happiness of all people, especially the poor, and his exclamation, "my eye, how i do love tidiness!" to him, to the artist, it was, as it is, beautiful. george eliot had to put even the pins in her cushion into some neat arrangement before she could sit down to write. disorder wastes not only one's feelings and health, it also wastes one's time, for a lot of this commodity may be lost in looking for books, wraps, gloves and other things which are not put away properly. school ought to be a training for the life afterwards. that is why we go to school, isn't it? why should a girl indulge herself in habits which will make against her usefulness in the life of the home or in whatever circumstance she may be? there is a certain disciplinary value in order. every great military school has recognized this. laxness in the care of one's room may mean the habit of laxness in other and more important ways. disorderliness indicates a certain tendency in character, and if a girl allows that sort of thing to go on she is very likely to show it in other ways. untidiness in any of one's personal habits--and what could be more personal than a room?--should be taken up and corrected even as one attempts to correct any weak point in one's character. do you know what is always--that is, if it is in it at all--the most beautiful thing in a room? it is something which the creator meant all mankind should have, rich and poor, old and young alike; it is something beyond the buying price of any wealth. it is the sunshine, more beautiful, more valuable than expensive hangings that shut it out. perhaps it is partly because it is inexpensive, god-given to all people, that housewives frequently draw their curtains against it. if they had to pay more for it than for carpets and hangings, you may be very sure that a great many husbands and fathers would be overworking in order that their families might buy a whole display of sunshine instead of tapestries. do you know what is the most helpful thing you can have in your room, the article without which you cannot live in it at all, no matter how fine the rugs and bric-à-brac may be? _air!_ air is the one thing which is almost instantly and absolutely indispensable to human life, for we breathe it in not only through our noses but also all over our skin. every hundredth fraction of an inch of our bodies is feeding upon air, and the purer that air and the cooler the better and more invigorating food it provides for the skin surface as well as for the lungs. the mind, for it is housed in the body and its tenant, must depend for its vigour or tone upon the fresh air in school or college study. even a very good head cannot work well set upon an anæmic body which is suffocating for want of good clean air. if you wish to do your best work and keep well, the first thing to do is not to open your books but to open your windows. after that the books and a reasonable number of hours of continuous study. american audience halls, pullmans, ordinary coaches and public buildings of all sorts, especially libraries, are notoriously overheated and unventilated. it is the intelligent american girl and woman who, beginning with the home, will correct this evil. the schools are, on the whole, in the forefront of the fresh air movement, especially the public schools. as every one knows, the public schools are establishing open air rooms for their children who need them. although there is much to be said about what a room should contain to make it attractive, it should never be forgotten that sunshine and fresh air are more beautiful and more priceless than anything else which it can hold. the first object in furnishing a bare room is to make it habitable,--that is useful. take the kitchen, for example, and usefulness is practically the sole object in fitting it up. and the curious thing about it all is that it cannot help being beautiful in a homely, motherly way, for it exemplifies one of the strongest elements of all beauty and that is _service_. the kitchen may be a very humble place but if more women would make a study of their kitchens and then take thought, it is likely that the rest of their houses would be in much better taste. a thing that is useful, even as with some well-worn homely old woman who has led a good and helpful life, always acquires a beauty of its own. it may be hard for girls to see this but it is there, and in time it will be seen. just as it is essentially more beautiful to have a clean, strong body rather than a pretty face and a body that is not what it ought to be, so is it more truly beautiful to have articles of furnishing in our rooms, in study or kitchen, that are of indispensable genuine use. take the gaudy ambitious study one girl has made for herself. it is defaced by the presence of articles of no value at all in the world of needs; there is nothing in it that is genuinely beautiful and nothing that is substantially useful. the furniture is almost too cheap to stand on its own legs, and the colours would certainly never wash and not even wear. this room is a junk-shop of new, useless, unattractive objects of no virtue,--in short, a most unpleasant place in which to live. have you ever considered what gives even the simplest clothes for distinctive occasions a beauty of their own? it is fitness. and it is this same fitness which tells so much in furnishing a room. it might be said of certain dresses that they "go together," that is, they are harmonious, they belong together, they have, like some people, the beauty of agreeing with themselves, and a very desirable sort of beauty it is. just as clothes are an expression of the people who wear them, so are rooms an expression of the people who live in them. no well-bred girl cares for tawdry, cheap, over-ornamented clothes. she is made uncomfortable even at the very thought of having to wear such things. she should suffer just as much discomfort on the score of a cheaply furnished (and by "cheap" here i do not mean inexpensive--whitewash and deal intelligently used may create a beautiful room), overcrowded and over-ornamented study. what is the meaning of the room which is your school centre for the time being? it is an intimate place where a girl may have her friends and good times; it is a retreat and it is a workshop. it is the girl's home centre away from home, the place from which she will lead her life, in its expression attractive or unattractive, like her or unlike her. to intend that this room in beauty, in cleanliness, in order, shall be the best expression possible of the girl's best self is the ideal to set for the school study. get good materials and good colours. they need not be expensive. remember that colours have to go together just as furniture has to do so. to have styles of furniture that clash or colours that do not harmonize will negative any care which the student may have taken in the selection of individual pieces or materials. to have too much with which to fill the room is a good deal worse than not to have enough. much better it is to have a few things which are just what they should be than to have too many and those undesirable. to get a desk, if a girl can afford to do so, that she will be glad to keep her life long is a good beginning, and a comfortable chair that will be made doubly precious by all the school associations woven about it. and let her be careful about pictures for her walls and not crowd them with cheap and "fashionable" trash. above all, let her remember that good taste, simplicity, careful selection, will do more to assure her the possession of an attractive room than all the money in the world can do. v the tools of study and their use a girl ought to take up her study with the same sense of pleasure as that with which a strong workman enters his shop, knowing his tools and able to use them. having good tools and knowing them is certainly part of the joy of work. and what are the tools the student must use? well, for the average student, the one that is first and most important is _good health_. the mind is not as clear if the body is not in good health, clean within and without. the second set of tools consists of a different sort of equipment and apparatus, tools with which a girl must become familiar and which she must know how to use--_books_, _library_, _laboratory_ and _classroom_. why shouldn't a student be just as able to use her books as a carpenter his plane or saw? one couldn't expect a fumbling carpenter or a clumsy seamstress to accomplish much work or good work. there are times when a girl need not claim to know anything but she must, at least, know where to find what she wants to know. this is the first lesson in the use of books; without knowledge of them or love for them, the student can't get along at all. and beyond this somewhat mechanical use of books there is a deeper and larger lesson to learn; to know that a book is not merely a page of print where information may be sought but that it is a mirror in which one finds the world, its wisdom, its joy, its sorrow, its divine adventures. robert southey, the friend of the poet coleridge, has written beautifully on the subject in a little poem called "his books." another tool in the student's workshop is _previously acquired knowledge_: that is, what one has in one's mind. some people's minds are junk-shops. but a junk-shop is better than an empty shop. this previously acquired knowledge, if used rightly, becomes the tool of later courses, the servant of later years. our stored-up facts--many of them--have not been an end in themselves. how could they be? for example, such things as paradigms and formulæ and long lists of names and dates, are tools pure and simple; but the student in the workshop must have them or she will be like a carpenter who had much to do but on coming to his bench found no tools there and so was idle all day. a fourth tool for the girl in her study--one that cannot be deliberately acquired, as information or apparatus or even health can be--is _experience_. this is the most valuable tool of all--one's experience of travel, with people, in responsibility, in love, in joy, in sorrow, in any kind of work. the girls who are the most interesting in the classroom are the girls who are not contenting themselves with apparatus alone but whose minds are flexible with experience, who bring all of themselves, their life, to bear upon the work. a certain well-known minister had prepared a sermon for his usual sunday engagement, but half an hour before service another text came into his mind. he could not forget it, so he jotted down notes and preached the new sermon instead of the one that had been prepared. this sermon made a great impression on all who heard it, and the minister himself said of it that some people would declare that it had been thought out in half an hour, but that really he had put fifty years of his life into it. the sharper and better the tools, the finer the character of the work. if experience has been observed and retained, and previously acquired knowledge is ready for service, and hand and mind know how to use books, and the student is in good condition physically, then the excellence of that girl's work in the class and out can be guaranteed. and now what are the uses of the work which these tools can accomplish for us? coleridge wrote in his poem, "work without hope," "work without hope draws nectar in a sieve, and hope without an object cannot live." the only hope that can last is hope that is not wholly centred in ourselves, but has some thought for others and our service to them. work devoid of inspiration and ideals, work done merely for one's self, study pursued with only a degree as an end or for the sake of "pay" as a teacher, turns school and college into a market-place, a place of barter, where in exchange for so much energy and so much money we may acquire a certain position and livelihood. only that work in which one has the consciousness of being, or becoming, useful to others, brings joy that will endure. what do we think of the minister who is without a sense of consecration? the responsibility of the student or the teacher is quite as large, the opportunity for service quite as wonderful. one of our greatest english poets, william wordsworth, exclaimed: "i wish to be considered as a teacher, or as nothing!" the calling of the teacher, of the student, has through all time been thought a high one,--one that has drawn to itself fine and unselfish spirits. the life of the student, no matter how necessary to the world its market-places are, never has been and never can be a life of barter, of trade. the wealth that comes to the student should not be an exclusive possession. it may be bought at a large price but it can never be sold. it must be given away, or shared, for it is wealth which carries with it a sense of social responsibility. it is enjoyed for a double purpose, not only for the sake of the happiness it brings to us but also for the sake of the joy or help it may bring to others. millions of girls covet the opportunities that come to a few in school and college, many of them who far more greatly deserve this privilege than we. indeed, what have most of us done to merit the right to all that we have? the only way in which we can show our sense of justice is by taking our privileges as something to share with others. the girl who has health, pleasant surroundings and work worth doing, has all a human being has a right to expect. she ought always to be happy, always rejoicing in her work and always eager to divide her wealth with others. the redeeming feature of royalties has been their sense of responsibility for their subjects! in great disasters, or calamities, their first thought has been to go to the relief of the people. the king and queen of italy are noble examples of this courage and unselfishness. in america the only "privileged" class is the highly educated. it is they from whom _noblesse oblige_ must be expected, who will show in all emergencies their sense of responsibility, who will share all that they have with others. a girl will be happy, she will grow, she will be a leverage power for good with those among whom she lives, only in so far as she uses her tools of knowledge in the service of others, and shapes all that she does towards some humanly useful end. vi the joy of work if one is in good condition, the exercise of any physical power is a pleasure. it is a pleasure to run, to sing, to dance, to climb mountains, to row, to swim; it is a pleasure to shout for nothing else than for the pure joy of letting off surplus energy. in the world of animals, the horse and dog, to take only two illustrations, abound in this enjoyment of physical energy. the horse paws the ground and snorts and whinnies and loves the fastest road pace you will let him take. the dog leaps in the air, jumps fences, barks, and races around madly, sometimes after nothing at all. but the highest power of which human beings are possessed is not the power of the body. it is the power of the mind. yet many of us throughout our school and college life not only do not wish to use this power but even rebel against it. "what," some girls are saying to themselves, "enjoy the work of a classroom? who ever heard of such a thing!" yes, just that. and if we don't enjoy the work of a classroom, even an indifferently good one, there is something the matter with us, or the subject should not have a place on any curriculum. every mental exercise should be full of the keenest pleasure, of intellectual pleasure. our schools and colleges to-day are very much richer in the joy of everything else--in beautiful surroundings, in freer and fuller athletic and outdoor life, in a more varied and delightful social life--than they were fifty or even twenty-five years ago. but it is a question whether the joy of intellectual work has kept pace with this joy of life in its other aspects. sometimes it almost seems as if intellectual eagerness were in inverse ratio to the ease and fullness of the opportunities we have. at least many fair-minded girls have seen the predicament in which the teacher is placed. the man who makes a vase for the use and pleasure of others may rejoice not only in his own workmanship but also in the thought of the service and delight he is giving to others. that is, his pleasure is twofold. the teacher who is deprived of some response of joy in the work he is doing is a workman deprived of his rights. to those girls who are thinking of becoming teachers this should be a sobering thought. missionary teachers, with their students eager to get anything they have to give, are not to be pitied. our schools and their groups of teachers in isolated and uncultivated parts of the west and south are not to be pitied. even if education is with them shorn of much that gives it charm, the opportunities that come are prized. students and teachers have intellectual joy in the work they do, and without that the greatest university in the world might as well, or better, be a district school, for then the work done would be truly useful. it is the teacher who has to put much of her time and energy into making a subject superficially attractive enough for a student to elect it, who is to be pitied. a classroom full of blasé girls whose minds need to be tickled before there is the least expression of intellectual mirth upon their faces, is an ordeal not lightly to be met except by the professional joker or academic tumbler. girls often become impatient with themselves, and that is one reason why there is so little joy in work for them. think of helen keller as a famous example of this joy in work under the most adverse circumstances. what could be greater than her handicap? shut away from the world by deaf ears and blind eyes and, for a while, by inability to speak, she has nevertheless shown a keenness of pleasure and intellectual acquisition that shames us who have all our senses in their fullness. think of her patient, unremitting delving, of the digging up, up, up to get to the light which most human beings are privileged to enjoy with no effort at all! the mind that accepts this wealth with no thought, no sense of responsibility, is a trifler with riches that are about us for god-given purposes. think of the way in which stevenson and john richard green and george eliot rose above their ill-health and did their work in despite of it! perhaps some of us have superb health and have never made any conscious effort to use that gift for a high end. girls grow impatient with themselves when they wouldn't be impatient with a little child. yet the mind has to be trained even as we train a child; it has to be brought back and back, again and again to the thing to be done. after the asking of a simple question, oftentimes a whole class will look confounded, because they have some strange notion that thinking means getting hold of something very far away and difficult to grasp. all that the first effort in thought denotes is taking a hold of that which is nearest and following it up. it is the old story of theseus following his clue of thread, the slender thing in his hand, by which he was guided out of the labyrinth and to the broad sea of adventure. there are difficulties in the doing of any work that is worth while. it would be a poor adviser who painted the student's way as a path of roses. first and foremost, one's own inertia interferes with the joy of work. some one has defined the lazy man as one who doesn't want to do anything at all, and the indolent man as one who doesn't want to do anything that he doesn't want to do. then, too, there are certain allurements and distractions in school life which are a hindrance to our joy in an intellectual task. and there is the very natural disinclination to the drudgery involved in all hard labour. no work that is worth while is without drudgery. lack of encouragement from older people is one serious difficulty some girls have to meet. there is a type of older person who is sure that using the mind will harm that precious article. and, finally, there is our inexperience, our own lack of comprehension, our own purposeless and formless lives. joy in work should not be altogether conditional upon one's sense of ease or upon what is called success. seeming success is not always success. often the most valuable lessons come from failures. robert browning, the poet, speaks again and again of the noble uses of failure. let me quote one stanza from one of his greatest poems, "rabbi ben ezra": "then, welcome each rebuff that turns earth's smoothness rough, each sting that bids nor sit nor stand, but go! be our joys three-parts pain! strive and hold cheap the strain; learn, nor account the pang; dare, never grudge the throe!" you can't learn to walk if you haven't tumbled down a good deal in doing it. it is often failure that means ultimate success. of course if a girl keeps on saying: "oh, what's the use?" about everything she does and all her failures, there isn't any use. in weak moments that sort of thing can be said of every great and worth-while experience, of love, of joy, of sorrow, of work. but a girl who allows herself to take this attitude is a "quitter," and doesn't know the first principles of playing the game. part of the joy of work consists in the mere delight of intellectual exercise, delight in thinking a thing out. that is the way we develop ourselves mentally, just as we develop ourselves physically through sports. the mind that thinks is capable of deeper and broader thinking. thinking begets thought. a muscle that is left without exercise softens and finally atrophies. the same is true of mental muscle. if this strength is left unused it is gradually lost and cannot be recovered. mental concentration, the thought that is so strenuous that everything else is shut out, strengthens the mind. in this wonderful old world no new land has been discovered without physical effort. there is no country of the mind which can be entered without a similar effort. and there is another and very important joy in work--the sense that one is being equipped for the work of the world, for usefulness. the mere feeling that one's powers are being developed brings joy with it. there is still another joy which every one of us must covet--the sense of entering into the intellectual riches of the world, its wonders of science and art and letters, with the feeling that we have a part in a great treasure, a treasure which, unlike gold and precious stones, men have never been able to gauge or to exhaust. such gold and silver as we take from that adventure cannot be lost or stolen from us. it remains with us to the very last, and with it no life can ever become really poor, or dull, or old. vii fair-play few students realize how closely a classroom resembles a commonwealth. to most of us it seems a place into which we go to have a certain amount got out of us, or put into us. this conception of the classroom is unworthy the modern girl who has, otherwise, a fine understanding of the meaning of team-play, of playing all together for a common end, a game or a republic united by a tacit compact. does the average student feel responsibility for the game of basket-ball or lawn hockey which she is playing? the first thought of the girl in answering this is that it was a foolish question even to ask. of course she does. but for her classroom? no, that is a different sort of game, in which the responsibility lies all on the shoulders of the instructor. it is a one-woman or a one-man game, and very often the students are but spectators, cheering or indifferent, approving or disapproving. the pupil does not hold herself accountable for this game; it is the teacher who makes the class "go," who extracts from each student the information bottled up in her, together, often, with a good deal of carbon dioxide,--a process difficult and hard as drawing a swollen cork out of a soda-water bottle. finally, with a sort of noble rebound of effort, the exhausted instructor is to put a vast deal of information back into the girl before the student claps her book together and rushes pell-mell to the next classroom, there to be similarly uncorked, if the teacher has learned the art and her mental muscle is sufficient. such a conception of a classroom is not fair-play. the teacher, like the coxswain of a college crew, may have rowed over the same course and she may know it well enough to cover it in the dark; she may have won distinction upon it, may be the fittest person in all the states of the union to cover it again, but if she has not a good or a winning crew to coach, she will never win any race, even the shortest. no instructor has shoulders equal to such a multiple burden as coaching, steering and doing all the rowing, too. to play any classroom game in this spirit is to be dead weight for every one else embarked upon the same adventure. it is not fair-play. by such an attitude on the part of merely one student in the class, every other student associated with her loses, for the girl who will not lift her own weight the others must carry. if that student were playing in that spirit on the basket-ball team, do you suppose that the coach, or the captain, would let her stay on? not for a moment; off she would go and very much humiliated, too. if it is a discussion, the touch and go of the whole recitation will depend upon the presence of the team-play, or fair-play, spirit in the course. the instructor may do her best but if there is no play-the-game in that classroom, she might just as well fold up her tent, like the proverbial arab, "and silently steal away." it is not that any recitation need be a brilliant affair--if most of them depended upon that for existence they would scarcely exist at all--but there must be an honest, earnest, responsible effort to make the best of the hour. good will inevitably come from the clarifying effort to express thought, and the leading from thought to thought as the work goes forward. the basket-ball team cannot win, or even play, unless all the members are playing together. each one is needed despite the fact that she may not be one of the chief or best players. just so does the class need all its students. if a girl is only average, it is not fair-play for her to sit back and do nothing; neither is it fair-play for her to monopolize the attention if she happens to be more than commonly able. it is not fair-play to laugh at the girl who is at a disadvantage, or to appear bored. it is unfair to the individual, to the classroom in general and to the instructor. the least she can do in this class game is to give her whole and her courteous attention. think of all the practice games in which the average athletic team takes part. what can be said for the student who comes into the classroom unprepared to lift her own weight, unprepared to help others? when one comes to think about it from the fair-play point of view there is nothing to be said for her. nor is it fair-play for a girl to allow herself to get into such a state physically that she is unable to study. how often and often have fudge-heads--due to an application to too much sugar and not to books--sitting row after row killed a school or even a whole college! before a class tempered by fudge and not by wholesome outdoor living and conscientious devotion to work, the teacher might better put away her notes and close her book. nothing can happen through or over that barricade of fudge-heads. and it is not fair-play to cram because of time lost, or for any other cause. the only end of cramming is that the student soon forgets all that has been learned. alone by normal, slow acquisition and all the associations formed in such learning can information come to us to stay. it may not be particularly wicked to cram if one has plenty of time to waste, but it is foolish unless one has. there is a kind of gossip in which a girl takes part, made up of snap-shot judgments of the classroom, idle carping about some little unimportant point, expression of wounded vanity and unfair talk, which may mean a tremendous loss of prestige for a really admirable course; it may mean that girls, who would naturally go into it because of their liking or gift for the work, do not go or go in a critical and unsympathetic attitude. if there is a complaint to be made about any course it should be made to the responsible person concerned, and that is usually the teacher. anything else is not fair-play. in the classroom the instructor is the "coach" of the game and she is the person with whom to talk. it is needless to say that if a girl is putting nothing into a course she cannot expect to get anything out of it, or to complain because things do not "go." if she wants them to "go" why does she not help, and have the profit of taking something away from the work as interest on her effort? a girl gets dividends only from work into which she has put some brain-capital. and the people at home? is it fair-play to them, when they are making sacrifices of money or of happiness to keep the daughter at school, for her not to put good work into her study and play her part faithfully in the classroom game? so many things have to be taken into consideration of which we are not likely to think. there is the girl herself, the other girls with whom she is working, the instructor, the people at home, the institution that is providing an expensive equipment or plant through the philanthropic efforts of others or the taxation of the public. if the girl does not play her part fairly, there is a rather big reckoning against her, is there not? viii the right sort of leisure the right sort of leisure ought to help as much in the development of the girl as the right sort of work. if it is leisure worthy the name, it will bring refreshment; it will not leave one physically and mentally jaded. neither mind nor body should ever be exhausted because of the way in which freedom has been used. leisure is as important to work as work is to leisure. a person who has not worked cannot appreciate freedom, while the one who has had no leisure is not best fitted for work. "all work and no play makes jack a dull boy;" it is just as true that it makes jill a dull girl. the girl who works all the time, not realizing the importance of free moments, becomes fagged in body and mind. she is a tool that is dull, and would do well to remember that even a machine is better for an occasional rest. some mistaken ideas about leisure have grown up, making it difficult to say anything on this subject without being misunderstood. stories--whole books of them--about "spreads" and more or less lawless escapades in school and college, have given girls and other people, too, the impression that this is the sort of thing school leisure is. nothing could be farther from the truth. midnight feasts may occur in school, and most of us, unless we are too good to be average girls, have taken part in them. but such stories are vicious, for they misrepresent the life by suggesting that eating inferior and unwholesome food is the real freedom most girls desire. there is something repulsive in the very thought. feasts that leave a girl with a coated tongue and a dull head and monday "blues" do not fairly represent school or college leisure. good times that interfere with good work have no place in ideally free hours. but, indeed, the odours from the chafing-dishes do suggest that some of the girls are trying to put into literal execution the wish of a great german professor in oxford. the professor, eager to try a dish he saw on the hotel bill of fare, but with his english and german verbs not quite disentangled, said to the waiter, "hereafter i vish to become a velsh rabbit." perhaps becoming a welsh rarebit represents the height of some girls' ideals, but this is hard to believe. the possession of leisure depends to a great extent upon the will power. the girl who has never learned to say "no," who has no power of selection, cannot expect to have any hours for her own use. she is quarry for every idle suggestion, every social engagement, every executive "job" which pursues her. the girl who engages all her time socially cannot have a sense of leisure, for she turns her playtime into but another schedule, to be met as inexorably as her academic courses. her days become a formidable array of "dates," often stretching ahead for weeks. even if girls are not determined to have it for themselves, they should give to others some opportunity for freedom, and should respect their possible desire for solitude. the girl who engages or annexes every particle of time, her own or that of some one else with whom she comes in contact, is making leisure an impossibility. the girl who leaves no margin cannot hope for even the spirit of freedom. many students excuse themselves for much executive work in school and college on the ground that it is done in their leisure. that girl is a goose who allows herself through any sense of self-importance, or irreplaceable usefulness, to be so involved in executive work that all other aspects of her school life are slighted. if she refuses to be swamped by such "jobs" she can have the happiness of reflecting that probably some girls who need the training far more than she does are doing the work. to every girl will come the opportunity right along for "managing"; club and social work will bring it, and a good-sized family will bring it as nothing else can. but school leisure she will not have again. the whole aim of the school is to enrich the lives of its students, and it knows all too well that that student who does not keep for herself the leisure upon which body and mind and soul must feed is indeed poor. there is one way in which leisure is very generally misspent in school--and alas, outside, too!--not in managing one's own affairs, but in managing and discussing the affairs of others. at such times the remarks may be superlatively pleasant, but they are more often superlatively disagreeable. it may be said with truthfulness that they are almost never moderate or just. everything is all black or all white, with no gray. it makes one think of the little girl with a curl in the middle of her forehead: "when she was good, she was very, very good, and when she was bad, she was horrid." but, alas! the poor wretches discussed are not allowed even the natural and somewhat happy human alternation between badness and goodness. no, indeed, they are monsters of a desperate character--they may at the moment be broken-heartedly conscious of their own faults--or they are shining six-winged angels. and, woe! this sort of thing comes almost as hard upon the angels. they can't endure it; so much goodness breaks down their wing arches, and the glorious ones crumple together like tissue-paper. and upon the girls busily engaged in creating angels of loveliness and gargoyles of ugliness, this sort of conversation works havoc. it does not invigorate them, it does not inspire them. it belittles their minds--thank fortune, that making kindling wood of the characters of other people does do this!--and stunts their finer feelings. this sin, that they "do by two and two," they pay for one by one. gentle and considerate feelings are lost, time is wasted, a vicious habit,--almost no habit is more vicious,--is acquired. such gossip can never become a pure enjoyment; it remains at the best an ignoble, discreditable excitement. rolling these sweet morsels under their tongues, a taste for ill-natured or exaggerated comment fixes itself in their mouths. even if they have consciences that, like good mothers, will occasionally wash their mouths out with soap, they retain the disturbing memory of unkind, coarse, or foolish words. yet school should be the last place in which to indulge in idle talk. such indulgence is against all the idealism of student life. idle or meddlesome talk never helps any one, either the one who talks or the one who is discussed. if you have anything to say about other people, and if going to them will help you, the only friendly thing to do--it is not an easy thing--is to speak to the people concerned. if we really knew how to put ourselves in other people's places, no unkind, unfriendly words would ever be spoken again. there would be things hard to bear said--rebuke or reproof are never easy to receive--but nothing unfriendly. think how idle, ill-natured talk flows around the world, and then think what a different world it would be if there were none of it! it is to human life what the blights, the scales, the insect pests are to tree and flower. fortunately, as people grow older they come to think themselves less infallible, and as they grow wiser they become more tender and more lenient in their judgments. in companionship whose leisure interests are good there is a sense of freedom filled full and running over, of minds and hearts doubly rich, of good times doubly jolly. but on the whole, girls have too little absolute solitude; there is scarcely a girl in twenty, except the "dig," who is alone at all. one trouble with dormitory school life is that it fosters leisure-wasting and time-wasting "gang" habits. a girl so surrounded never wants to be alone a moment, either indoors or out. with such, the blessing and blessedness of solitude should be learned, for solitude rightly used makes strong men and women. the woman who has leisure has a grasp upon time, is master of it instead of being mastered by it. it is the girl whirled around in a squirrel cage of pointless weekly and sunday engagements who is oppressed and mastered by her lack of freedom. and then there is the hard-pressed future; we must lay up some leisure for that. the time when one is most hurried is the time when one most needs the sense of freedom. the story of the old quaker lady who had so much to do she didn't know where to begin, and so took a nap, is profoundly full of wisdom. when the old lady woke up she found she had plenty of time after all, not because she had done anything but because she had come again into a leisurely frame of mind. leisure means neither a blank mind nor an empty hand. it means a holiday taken with an eager mind, with eyes keen in their delight and knowledge, with hands capable of some beauty or some use. all of us have leisure to think, but not all of us think. some of us, if friends come in unexpectedly, will quickly pick up something and pretend to be busy. when watt sat by the fire watching the steam from the teakettle lift the lid, he was not precisely idle. the powerful, indispensable steam-engine was the result. one reason, aside from all religious considerations, why we need a quiet sunday, is that we may have that sense of freedom which feeds mind and body, and even the crumbs of whose profitableness have made the world rich in great inventions, in great pictures, in wonderful books. ix the outdoor runway after nebuchadnezzar came in from eating grass there had taken place in that potentate a great change for the good. one of the factors in this betterment may have been the grass itself. the grass-cure has always been popular and always will be, for it is just as good for the tired mind as it is for the tired body. nowadays every big school and every college provide a grass-cure for students who are out at elbows with their nerve sleeves, or who have not sufficient muscle to make them fit, or who are overworking or need toning up in any way. there is more and more recognition of the fact that a school course which is taken at the expense of health is not worth having. and side by side with this wholesome admission has come a great awakening in the last fifteen years to the curative value of the _outdoor runway_, whether that runway be a field track, energetic walking in a park or campus, or a cross country run. some girls--and there are more girls of this type than there are boys--put in their outdoor life as a stop-gap. it is inconceivable that this should be true, yet it is true. apathetically the students have exercised sixty minutes, considering this minimum quite sufficient. not a particle of zest do they reveal in the exercise taken. they do not seem to know or they do not care that the fields and woods should be full, not only of health and all that goes with it, including success, but also of the best of friends who all have their good points worthy of notice and imitation, in quick leap, cheerful voice and blithe song. what are sixty minutes in this great outdoor runway? not a tithe of the twenty-four hours and at best only half of what the minimum should be. exercise should be taken even if nothing else in the school life is. and i say this advisedly, for health is the basis on which not only the future of the woman's life must depend but also that of the race. good health, the inheritance of it, its maintenance and increase, neither the girl nor her parents can ever hold as too sacred a trust. that it is a sacred trust the schools are recognizing more and more, and provisions are being made, especially in the public schools, for the defective in health as well as for the strong. the outdoor school, at first an object that attracted universal attention, is now being taken quite for granted. foolish the girl who does not learn to take the outdoor runway for granted, too, and go out to it in high spirits to learn its wisdom, to take part in its joys and to receive its health. it may be accepted as a new axiom--the more exercise the less fool. strong, able muscles, steady nerves (and let us remember that nerves depend for their tone on the muscular condition), a clean skin open at all its pores and doing its eliminative work thoroughly, and clean strong vitals make up the kind of beauty within the reach of all womanhood, and the physical beauty which she should most desire. the day is coming when our ideal of what is physically perfect--not spiritually, for christianity has carried us beyond anything that greece ever knew--will be more like the greek in its entirety, its emphasis upon the harmony of the whole body. the body is a mechanism to be exquisitely cared for--self-running, it is true, and yet in need of intelligent attention. think of the care an engineer gives his engine, and it is by no manner of means so wonderfully and so intricately fashioned as these bodies of ours on which our happiness, our working ability, even our very goodness depend. health as a safeguard to one's whole moral being is coming into more and more recognition, and not only as a safeguard but also as a cultivator of all that is best in us spiritually. there are people very ill, or permanent invalids, whose great victory it is to be among the saints of the earth, but that it is easier to be good when one is well no one will deny. every big school has now its class or classes in corrective or medical gymnastics, in which stooping shoulders, ewe necks, curved spines, flat insteps, small waists and narrow chests are rectified as far as possible in the limited hours of the school days. the time is coming when parents will consider it a disgrace to allow their children to be physically undeveloped. the physician, always in advance of the community for which he cares, sees how grave in moral or intellectual import physical defects may be. the educational world, alive to new messages for the reconstruction of its educational ideal, begins also to place more and more emphasis upon the physical care and development of its students--and not by any manner of means for physical reasons only but because the whole girl or the whole boy is better spiritually and mentally for having a body that is strong and well. the whole being keeps better time, just as a watch does, for having clean works. no one has the right to shut out the fresh air or the sunshine; no girl should remain undeveloped physically through lack of exercise when she could, through exercise, make herself strong. even to abuse her feet, the important centre of many important nerves, by tight shoes, is wrong; so is it to rack her spine and upset or throw out of position all the delicate and wonderfully fashioned organs of the abdominal cavity by the wearing of high french heels. undoubtedly, however, american motherhood and girlhood represent something more and more intelligent; indeed, in physical culture women are beginning to keep step with men, and it is upon this fact that school and college depend in their splendid efforts to make the sum of feminine vitality, despite the pressure of modern civilization, plus rather than minus. _the more exercise the less fool_; and it is worth remembering that the daily exercise, the plunge into cool or clean air, as well as the plunge into water, is a wit sharpener, and will do more for a student in the long run than "digging" possibly can. _mens sana in corpore sano_ may be an old saying but it is still new enough to be repeated with vigour to certain people. let us get out-of-doors and have our wits sharpened and see more, and do more, and be more! no one can permanently starve her whole body for the want of fresh air and exercise, which are the body's birthright, and expect to have a clear head or do well-balanced and helpful work in the home, or in school, or in some wage-earning career. if the girl attempt this impossibility she will be like the frog which jumped up one foot and fell back two. she will get to the bottom soon enough, the bottom of the class or the bottom of her health account, but she will never get to the top of anything. any success, if by chance it should come to her, resting on a basis of ill health or indifference to her physical fitness for living and working, will be like the house built upon the sands. before the girl is twenty, before she is twenty-five--the earlier the better--she should recognize this fact and begin to establish her life on the bed rock of health. it is true, too, ninety-nine times out of a hundred, that the country boy and the country girl are more resourceful than their city cousins. out-of-doors they have had to use their wits and have not been spoiled by all the appliances of city life. out-of-doors, too, they have made invaluable friendships with bird and squirrel and rabbit and deer, friendships whose intelligent wood-life has taught them much. self-reliance is one of the lessons of the outdoor runway; and wisdom and inspiration come from it when they are needed. about this truth the work of the poet wordsworth is one long poem. again and again he writes of the perfect woman shaped by the influences of nature. of her he says: "three years she grew in sun and shower; then nature said, 'a lovelier flower on earth was never sown; this child i to myself will take; she shall be mine, and i will make a lady of my own. "'myself will to my darling be both law and impulse: and with me the girl in rock and plain, in earth and heaven, in glade and bower, shall feel an overseeing power to kindle and restrain. "'she shall be sportive as the fawn that wild with glee across the lawn or up the mountain springs; and hers shall be the breathing balm, and hers the silence and the calm of mute, insensate things. "'the floating clouds their state shall lend to her; for her the willow bend; nor shall she fail to see even in the motions of the storm grace that shall mould the maiden's form by silent sympathy. "'the stars of midnight shall be dear to her; and she shall lean her ear in many a secret place where rivulets dance their wayward round, and beauty born of murmuring sound shall pass into her face!'" no one can afford to neglect all the spiritual influence of nature, and the only way to receive it is to go to nature. purity of mind, a clean conception of god's creative plan, a more active intellectual life are all there for the girl who will seek them. she cannot afford _not_ to go back to nature for these helps, for every woman is in some sense a burden bearer, and she must needs know all she can of what life means in order to bear these burdens well. there are various kinds of outdoor life, some one of which is within reach of every human being, even if they are cripples. probably most girls when the outdoor life of school and college is spoken of think that athletics is meant. that is one part of the outdoor runway, and since it is provided in every school, and insisted upon, but little about it need be said. it is doing its work with more and more inspiration, as the response to its ideals comes in. and it does something more in every well-equipped school than merely make a girl use her legs and arms: it gives her a large, sane ideal of health and provides her with the means of keeping well. there is no more useful profession for the woman seeking one that is useful as well as remunerative than physical culture. there is another aspect of the outdoor runway of which less is said. i mean gardening, or the care of live stock of some kind, or bee culture. this is practical remunerative work which for the girl living at home and going to school should serve famously as a grass-cure; it would keep her out-of-doors with profit to both her health and her purse. and then there is another kind of grass-cure: the outdoor life out-of-doors, to be taken in long country walks, in fishing expeditions, in picnics, in camping or wherever roads, hills, meadows and brooks lead. finally, there is the outdoor life indoors. this life insists upon windows open to the air and open to the sunshine, and this life every one of us may have all the time. x a girl's summer any girl who settles down to a summer with the idea of doing nothing, or in an aimless, not-knowing-what-to-do-next fashion, lessens her opportunities for pleasure. pleasure is not idleness, although in the minds of a great many people who have not thought very much it is. the right sort of leisure is full of opportunities for doing interesting things. there are some girls who look upon their summers as an escape from the slavery of their school year. there are others who think of their summers as something to be endured until they can go back to the more or less selfish freedom of the school. neither is the right way. the summer ought not to be an entirely frivolous season, neither ought it to be too workaday. if a girl has work to do, everything should be so arranged as not to deprive the vacation of its recreative side. on the other hand the summer should be all the happier because of a definite object to be accomplished. something is wrong with a girl unless she finds both summer and winter full of opportunity and pleasure. no one can possibly do all the delightful or useful things which may be done in a single summer. in these months there is opportunity for growth just as in the winter--perhaps more opportunity physically. and intellectually there is much to be seen and observed. for the girl who can, it is well to plan to be out-of-doors as much as possible. for some, there are opportunities for camping, for long walks, for gardening, to learn how to do certain physically useful things, to row, swim and ride. only an extraordinary emergency would deprive a girl of all the out-of-door exercise which she needs. if she isn't able to be by the sea or in the mountains, in almost all cities there is opportunity for exercise and games. with a short car ride she can go to golf links, to tennis courts, into the country. in many semi-citified homes there is space for a girl to do some gardening, one of the most profitable of pleasures, good for the girl and good for the home. many homes would be much more attractive if there were more of the garden spirit in them. but if there is no chance for this, there can always be physical culture, an opportunity to build one's self up in health, to live sanely and wisely, to get plenty of sleep, and to take corrective exercise. in physical culture a girl should find out what she most needs--almost any gymnastic instructor in school or college would be glad to outline work--and then in ten or fifteen minute exercises develop herself along those lines. for the girl with means there is the chance for travel, a splendid opportunity to cultivate many virtues of which the young traveller seldom thinks: patience, adaptability, seeing the bright side of things. travelling may be made a very important part of education. it is too bad that some people of limited horizon take it simply as a chance to aggrandize themselves, something to boast about and with which to bore their friends by repeated accounts of what they did "abroad." the great doctor samuel johnson, the compiler of the famous dictionary and author of "rasselas," heartily disliked young travellers, for, he said, "they go too raw to make any great remarks." travelling, if it is what it should be, is an educational opening. in this way can be gained a background for history, for literature, for sociology, and a vivid and living knowledge of geography. merely running about with a guide-book will not achieve these ends, although a guide-book is a very important asset: sympathy, trying to understand what one sees, will. travelling takes away provincialism because it broadens the outlook. in a very real sense the world becomes one's home. the girl who is not able to move about or actually travel may travel in books. she should be ashamed to read what is harmful or merely cheap, but further than that it may not much matter. let her read the little books, if she wishes, and the great little books. as surely as the magnet swings towards the pole will the great little books take her to the great big books. she will be drawn on and up in her reading, and will have cultivated a love for reading which is far more important than perfunctory knowledge of the classics. just as any books that are good point towards books that are better, so should the good work of a girl's school year be turning her mind towards the future and her work as a mature woman. in the summer she has time to assimilate all she has done, to get her bearings, and to plan wisely for the year, or years, to come. for a girl of strong physique the summer vacation gives an opportunity to add towards what she is going to do eventually; to specialize in some line of work, to take a library, or scientific, course. many girls, however, who wish to spend their summer in this fashion ought not to consider it, for they are not strong enough. it is well for them to remember that it is the quality of work that counts rather than the quantity. often the quality of a girl's work for an ensuing school year depends upon her freedom from study during the summer. students should be very sure, if they undertake work in the summer, that it is not done simply from a nervous desire to go on regardless of the quality of the work done. but for those in perfect health this is an opportunity to try their powers in different ways in order to discover what it is they really wish to do. a summer so spent may keep many a girl from slipping into teaching just because it seems the only thing she can do. such a salvation will be twofold, for it will save not only the girl, but also a profession overcrowded with loveless followers. there are so many needs to be filled by a woman's work that it is her duty to look for some vocation for which she is truly adapted, to get out of the ruts of those professions into which women flock because they have no initiative. often a girl thinks only of what she will do with her own summer without thinking of what she will do with her mother's or her father's summer. for nine or ten months they have been thinking of what they could do for her. sometimes girls do not realize the actual need of help and of companionship which those at home feel, and the older people are too unselfish to force this need upon their juniors. between the unselfishness of those who are older and the self-centredness of those who are younger, there is often sad havoc made in a home. a girl who, after a year's absence and all that has been done for her, can't adjust herself to those who need her, has still something to learn. if older people cannot do without the buoyancy of the young, the young cannot very well afford to forget the mother and father who have much, although no word may be didactically spoken, to teach them. let the girl take her summer not only as an opportunity to grow closer to her family but also as a chance to learn home-making, to train herself in the practical things of the home. this practical training is often a very valuable supplement to the school work. the time is passed when the learned woman who is unable to do anything for herself is the ideal--if she ever has been that. the inability to make a home for herself, to do all the necessary things daintily, detracts from a woman's power. in practical ways a woman should be both dainty and capable. parents, as well as girls, sometimes forget or do not clearly recognize the fact that no school, no college, can take the place of the home, that schools are not primarily schools in home-making, but rather schools of general education. the summer is a good time for the girl to find her place again in the home life, and for both parents and children to rejoice in the pleasures of the home--pleasures and opportunities which no institutional life can give. xi from the school to the girl what the school is able to do for the girl depends very largely upon the girl herself. the majority of people with whom she comes in contact do not take that into consideration, and the school is held unfairly responsible for the girl. all any school can do is to use the material it finds. some one has said, with harsh but true emphasis, that a college does not make a fool, it simply helps in the development of one. as an illustration of its limitations, a school sends out two girls from the same class; one girl it is proud to have taken as a type, the other it is sorry to have represent it. yet both have been under exactly the same influence. students do not realize how fearfully at their mercy a school is, or that, so far as reputation is concerned, it is they who make or mar its credit. if the school training is worth anything at all, it makes the most of unpromising material. its really discouraging experience is not with the girl of limited ability who gives her best and so in some sense gets the best, but with the student who doesn't give her best and who, because of her own indifference, is always misrepresenting the training she is receiving. no school ever wishes to have its ideals confused by a vulgar display of wealth or by loud or conspicuous behaviour. yet many a school, with ideals all that they should be, is misjudged in public places because of some thoughtless or unreliable girls. this doesn't seem like fair-play or team-play, does it? the fineness of life ought to be felt and expressed in student behaviour. yet how often it is not! another way in which the ideals of a school or college are misrepresented is by lack of intellectual integrity. any school informed with a large spirit wishes to meet its students on a platform of absolute trust,--a platform which makes precautions against dishonesty unnecessary. just so long as a school must be vigilant in order to keep a few students from unfair behaviour, just so long is it prevented from meeting them all on a basis of absolute trust. why should girls excuse themselves for classroom dishonesty? what would they think of a girl who cheated in basket-ball? would they condone that? until student government has recognized absolute intellectual integrity as a part of its ideas, it will not have achieved its end. the rock on which all scholarship is founded is honour. lack of honour is fatal to its ideal. "cribbing," often excused by people who do not stop to think, is the small beginning of a big evil. many a large institution is like an anxious mother, not always infallible in wisdom, but personally interested in and eager for the success of the individual. a successful girl brings credit to her school, for she demonstrates, as nothing else can, the fact that the school is achieving its purpose in service to the community. how much this encouragement is needed, girls do not realize, for they do not know all the difficulties which institutions, especially technical and collegiate, have to meet in sending their students out into the world. in finding a position for a student, the school has to consider the whole girl. it may care greatly for an attractive personality and yet see that its possessor is lacking in qualities of faithfulness and accuracy, and that with its utmost endeavour it has never been able to correct these faults. on the other hand, the school may have those students whose manners, whose dress, whose personality, whose spelling, whose awkwardly expressed notes, whose lack of promptness, make against success in any capacity. another point for which the school looks in recommending its students is physical fitness, which shows itself in many different ways: in voice, in carriage, in attractiveness, in staying power. one teacher who had an excellent record as a student and was, besides, a fine girl, had so unpleasant and absurd a voice that her students were in a continual state of amusement and would learn nothing from her. a great many teachers have lost in power because of a poor voice, strident, or lifeless, or husky, or falsetto. a poor enunciation, or words that do not carry, are ineffectual means by which to reach a class, to hold a customer, or to introduce one's self favourably to the interest of others. for a girl who is going to have any part in public life--and most girls do nowadays--a good voice is an absolute essential. and it is well for us to remember that the voice is not something superficial, but that it is the expression of that which is within. another way in which physical fitness shows itself is in the carriage. a girl who carries herself with erectness and energy brings a certain conviction with her of fitness for many things, of self-respect, of ability, and reveals in her bearing something of her mind as well as of her body. we are always tempted to think a person who "slumps" physically may slump in other ways. a good carriage, good voice, and strong, clean, digestive system are far more important than beauty of features. there is another matter at which the school in placing its students must look. to be a desirable candidate for a good position a girl need not be expensively gowned, but she must be daintily and freshly dressed. immaculate shirt waist, a plain, well-made skirt, with good shoes, stockings and gloves and a quiet, pretty hat, are all any woman needs in meeting her business obligations. and that daintiness which she shows in her dress she must show in her person too, in clean skin and finger-nails, good teeth, and smooth, attractively arranged hair. it is very important for the interests of a school, as well as for the individual, to place its students advantageously. to have them succeed widens its sphere of usefulness and influence and opens new channels of service. every college puts itself to considerable expense in looking out for the interests of its students, for the glory of a great school lies not only in the people whom it collects into its midst, but even more in those whom it sends out. a girl has no right to go so lightly through her school life that she fails to see in it all the self-sacrifice and effort and ambitions that have gone into the building up of what is her privilege and opportunity. in so far as she does this she fails in the team-play spirit. why should a girl think that she can spend her father's money, or the means of her school, thoughtlessly? what would happen to her if she did this with the funds of her basket-ball team? yet girls waste the resources of their school by carelessness with its property, a carelessness that collectively mounts up into thousands of dollars, and never once stop to think how difficult every big school finds it to make ends meet. before it is too late, at least now that she is leaving school, let her stop to realize that a great deal of the work for an institution is along the line of self-sacrifice, in the gifts given, in the work of its administrators and teachers. this unselfishness means a financial loss, for business ability might be invested in more lucrative ways; it means a social sacrifice, for there is a certain kind of impersonality which is demanded in work that deals with a continually changing community; it means risk in the great strain put upon physical and nervous strength; it means forgetting one's self; for the true teacher is willing to be forgotten when she has served others. what a school may accomplish for its students is its only compensation for all this self-sacrifice. xii the work to be one of the qualities a girl who has completed her school or college life needs to show for a few months more than anything else is the quality of adjustment, for she will find that she must continually adjust herself to new conditions whether they be of the home or elsewhere. all the time through school she has been in some sense a centre of interest. her class has been an important factor in the academic life. when she has gone home it has been as a school or college girl, and she has been of interest because she brought that life into the home. but now the attitude of others towards her is different. she ceases to be the centre of attention, and for her a day of serious readjustment is at hand. perhaps in her own estimate she has seemed even more important than she really was. she is likely now to swing from a sense of self-importance to an injured feeling of insignificance, and to a conviction that people can get along quite as well without her. up to this time when she has gone home she has been an honoured visitor. but now that she is at home to stay, instead of becoming the centre she is merely part of the family circle with its obligation of doing for others. her presence in the household is no longer a novelty. the swift change from a highly-organized, methodical life to the life of the home where there is not so much method, is hard for a girl. one reason it is difficult is that while she may be accomplishing a great deal that is useful, she seems to be doing nothing and to get nowhere. she feels as if she were in the midst of a conflict of duties. in school she has had implanted in her the idea that she must accomplish some definite thing, and between this objective and the irregular demands of the home there appears to be more or less clashing. she is confronted by a problem not easy for any one to solve: how to keep her definiteness of aim and work, and yet not be self-centred. oftentimes when a girl fails to adjust herself to the home life, her family and friends feel that she is rather selfish in her desire to carry out her own aims rather than to give them up for new demands. frequently the family is as much to blame for not realizing that the girl needs to be helped back into the old life as the girl is for not being able to help herself. in the home the spirit of team-play is much needed. quite as much as the girl, the family has a lesson to learn in the art of adjustment and in remembering that this grown-up child isn't just the same individual she was when she went away several years ago. they need to realize that the girl may be able to give more to the home life than she ever did before, but that it will be given in a somewhat different way. while she is learning the difficult art of finding her place again, a great deal depends upon the individual girl, not only in the home but in the community at large. sometimes she needs to be reminded that although she may have had more advantages than those left at home, that doesn't necessarily make her a superior person. a girl who is inclined either to pity or to admire herself too greatly should give herself a vigorous shaking. in the long run she will find it easier to do that on her own account than to have others do it for her. the friends at home, or in the church, or in the town, with education of a different kind coming to them, may have quite as much and more to give her than she to give them. one indicator of a really cultivated woman is her power to adapt herself to the circumstances in which she is placed. a gentlewoman never calls attention to the difference between herself and somebody else. the woman of broad culture is the one who makes everybody feel at home with her. if a girl's education has been worth anything at all, it should give her not a superior, set-aside feeling, but a desire to be more friendly and useful wherever she may be, and, not placing too much stress on externals, to look for essentials, to get the full value from every person and from every experience with which she comes in contact. girls go to so many different kinds of homes that it is unlikely that they will meet the same sorts of difficulties. there is the girl who goes into the society home, where it is impossible for her to carry out her ideals without conflict with its social standards. on the other hand, there is the girl who goes into the very simple home where all the stress is upon the domestic side of life. and there is the girl who has to provide part of the family income. very likely she has the hardest problem of all. she enters upon some new work, and nine times out of ten the way is not made easy for her; she is a novice with all the hardships that come to the novice. perhaps in the beginning she has met a very real perplexity in hardly knowing what line of work to take up. she has no particular interest, no especial talent, no brilliant record, no powerful friends, no money with which to establish herself. with her it must be as it is with thinking: she must seize hold of the thing nearest her. what seems to her a temporary and unsatisfactory expedient will in many cases open out a path leading to something much broader. at least she may remember this as consolation: that even that experience of uncertainty, of indecision, is a part of education, and out of it, rightly and bravely met, will come some richness for her future life. the beginning of a work, teaching or anything else, may have to be rather irksome, indeed, may be exceedingly difficult,--an experience that will perhaps test staying power to the utmost. when it is too late to give due appreciation we realize that the work in school which was planned for us and arranged with our physical and mental well-being in view was, after all, not so hard as we thought it at the time. we wish that we had enjoyed our leisure more and complained less. from the point of view of fatigue, as a secretary, a clerk, a trained nurse, a teacher, a social worker, the burden may be so great that the girl is disheartened. she is all the more disheartened because, knowing that a useful life is a strong, steady pull, the way before her seems interminable. if she carries her whip inside her--this counsel is not for those of us who are lazy--she does well to remember that there is a point beyond which fatigue should not be borne, that is, when it overdraws her capital of health and nervous energy. raising pigs is preferable to a so-called high profession when pig-raising is happily joined with a reasonable amount of health and security. the pigs and health together can always pay mortgages and buy necessities for those dependent upon us and for ourselves. the high calling without health is like a wet paper-bag: it will hold nothing. the girl meets with another difficulty in finding out that in almost any line of work a great deal of time is needed for the mastery of what seem the simplest principles. no one wants the girl who hasn't had experience, and nobody seems disposed to take her and give her that experience. however, we all find some one who is hardy enough or kind enough to try us; and as every year now there is more effort put into finding the work girls are most suited to do, there is no excuse for slipping into teaching as a last resort. not unnaturally we sometimes distrust ourselves, especially in taking up an occupation to which we are not accustomed. and in her new work the girl, uncertain of her ability to master what she has undertaken, is placed in a position in which she has the encouragement of neither the school nor the home. before, she has put much of the responsibility for her work and life upon parents and instructors. now she has to be her own judge and pass judgment on herself and her work. she has, too, not only to lift her own weight but the weight of others as well. as she longs for coöperation, good will and encouragement the value of the team-play spirit has never seemed so great before. * * * * * we do not need to be told to remember the happy and easy experiences of life. no girl forgets them. what we do need is some one to tell us where the hard places will be, to warn us, to stiffen our courage and to point clearly to the uses of hard work and adversity. and although this may seem like placing another straw on the poor camel's back, it is now time to say that in her life-work, whether it be in her home or outside, a girl should be very clear in her mind what her aims and purposes are. if she is working solely for the praise and commendation of others, she will often be grievously disappointed. not in recognition does real reward lie, but in the work itself. if she wins great popularity she is likely to find that there is nothing that shifts so quickly and is such a quicksand. if material wealth is her sole object she will harden into the thing she seeks and add but another joyless barbarian to a modern world congratulating itself that barbarism is a thing of the past, and yet presenting the spectacle of a mammon worship such as has never been seen before. if gold is her end, and not the means to a nobler end, then she will find herself constantly sacrificing higher issues to that, and lowering her one-time ideals. truly the woman who marries solely for the comforts of a home, the woman who teaches, or nurses for "pay" alone, has her reward, and that is in self-destruction. she is a carrier of barbarism, not of culture; of disease, not of health; of tribulation, not of joy. the only real reward there can be lies in the idealism, the joy, the strength of the work done and in a mind and heart conscious of having done their best. the end _john t. faris_ author "_winning their way_." "making good" pointers for the man of to-morrow mo, cloth, net $ . . _dr. j. r. miller_ says: "sixty intimate messages to young men and boys on the things that make for success or failure. bright and short and full of illustrations from actual life, they are just the sort that will help young men in the home, in school, among associates and in business. everywhere is the suggestion of the necessity for christ if men would build up fine character and make life worth while." _jeanette marks, m. a._ a girl's school days and after introduction by mary k. woolley, president of mt. holyoke college. mo, cloth, net c. in twelve most readable and suggestive chapters ranging from "the freshman year" through "school friendships," "the students room," "tools of study and their use," "the joy of work," "the right sort of leisure," "the girls outdoor life," to "the work to be," the author writes in a practical yet interesting way of wellnigh every phase of the girl and her school. _frederick lynch director of n. y. peace society._ the peace problem the task of the twentieth century introduction by andrew carnegie. cloth, net c. andrew carnegie commends this book in no stinted terms. "i have read this book from beginning to end with interest and profit. i hope large editions will be circulated by our peace organizations among those we can interest in the noblest of all causes." _james m. campbell, d. d._ grow old along with me mo, cloth, gilt top, net $ . . "shows in most helpful fashion things one should strive for and guard against, things he should leave off doing, as well as others he should put on. it is a pleasant thing to read and it should be a potent factor in leading one to an appreciation of the real beauty and opportunity that lies 'west of fifty years.'"--_chicago tribune_. _mrs. newell dwight hillis_ the american woman and her home mo, cloth, net $ . . the author shares with her gifted husband the power of both entertaining and influencing people with the pen. the remarkable interest awakened lately by mrs. hillis' articles in "the outlook" has inspired this helpful book. fiction _wilfred t. grenfell, m. d._ down north on the labrador illustrated, mo, cloth, net $ . . a new collection of labrador yarns by the man who has succeeded in making isolated labrador a part of the known world. like its predecessor the new volume, while confined exclusively to facts in dr. grenfell's daily life, is full of romance, adventure and excitement. the _n. y. sun_ recently said: "admirable as is the work that dr. grenfell is doing on the labrador coast, the books he has written, make his readers almost wish he would give up some of it to write more." _clara e. laughlin_ the gleaners a novellette. illustrated, decorated boards, net c. again miss laughlin has given us a master-piece in this story of present day life. millet's picture, "the gleaners," is the moving spirit of this little romance and, incidentally, one catches the inspiration the artist portrays in his immortal canvas. "the gleaners" is issued in similar style to "everybody's lonesome," of which the _toronto globe_ said: "one of the successful writers of 'good cheer' stories for old and young is miss laughlin, and whoever reads one of her cheery little volumes desires more." _prof. edward a. steiner_ _author of "the immigrant tide," etc._ the broken wall stories of the mingling folk. illustrated, net $ . . professor steiner has the story-teller's knack and uses his art with consummate skill in this collection, where will be found dramatic tragedy and profound pathos in strong contrast with keen humor and brilliant wit, all permeated by an uncompromising optimism. no man has probed the heart of the immigrant more deeply, and his interpretation of these americans of tomorrow is at once a revelation and an inspiration: a liberal education in brotherhood. _a. d. stewart_ heather and peat mo, cloth, net $ . . "this is a very delightful story, told in the broadest and most fascinating scotch language. the author belongs of right to that class of modern scotch writers who bring out matters of vital human interest, with religious and tender touches, and this story is one that any writer might be proud of and any reader of feeling and vitality must delight in."--_journal and messenger_. _yang ping yu_ the love story of a maiden of cathay told in letters from yang ping yu. finely decorated boards, net c. written in english picturesquely colored with chinese, at once naive and yet full of worldly wisdom, frank and yet discreetly reserved. the story as told in the letters is real, vivid, convincing. it is a human document that will compel the attention of the reader from beginning to end, and verify again the saying that "truth is stranger than fiction." _marion blythe_ an american bride in porto rico illustrated, mo, cloth, net $ . . "the story is very pleasant and very human. in her bravery and courage, in her wit and merriment, the bride reminds one somewhat of the "lady of the decoration." this similarity adds, however, rather than detracts from the charm of the book. she is thoroughly good-natured and clever and companionable, with a whimsical and ever-present sense of humor."--_chicago evening post_. _isla may mullins_ the boy from hollow hut illustrated, mo, cloth, net $ . . readers of john fox, jr.'s stories will recognize the location of this story at once. the author and her husband, president of the great theological seminary of louisville, have taken a large interest in these descendants of _some of the best american stock_. through the tender humanness of her narrative mrs. mullins bids fair to gain a large audience for this intensely interesting work. _dr. olivia a. baldwin_ sita, a story of child-marriage fetters. mo, cloth, net $ . . a realistic story of native and mission life in india; a story dealing with the stress of famine and the pathetic condition of india's child-widows. _mrs. maud johnson elmore_ the revolt of sundaramma with an introduction by helen b. montgomery. illustrated by gertrude h. b. hooker. net $ . . sundaramma, a hindu maiden, is the heroine of this story which relates her revolt against child marriage and her flight from such slavery. _norman duncan author of "dr. luke," etc._ the measure of a man a tale of the big woods. illustrated, net $ . . "the measure of a man" is mr. duncan's first full-sized novel having a distinct motif and purpose since "doctor luke of the labrador." the tale of the big woods has for its hero, john fairmeadow--every inch a man whom the lumber jacks of his parish in the pines looked up to as their sky pilot. human nature in the rough is here portrayed with a faithfulness that is convincing. _robert e. knowles author of "st. cuthberts," etc._ the singer of the kootenay a tale of to-day. mo, cloth, net $ . . the scene of action for mr. knowles' latest novel is in the crow's nest pass of the kootenay mountains of british columbia. to this dramatic field he has gone for local color and has taken every advantage of his wide knowledge, picturing life of every phase in his most artistic style. _harold begbie author of "twice-born men_" the shadow mo, cloth, net $ . . a new story by the novelist whose study of regeneration, "twice-born men" has made the religious world fairly gasp at its startling revelations of the almost overlooked proofs of the power of conversion to be found among the lowest humanity. his latest work is a brilliant study of modern life which will maintain the author's reputation. _rupert hughes_ miss a story in season and out of season. illustrated, mo, cloth, net c. "is there any excuse for one more christmas story?" "surely nothing has been left unsaid." "the truth, perhaps." "the truth?--about christmas! would anybody care to read it?" "perhaps." "but would anybody dare to publish it?" "probably not." "that sounds interesting! what nobody would care to read and nobody would dare to publish, ought to be well worth writing." _j. j. bell author of "oh! christina!" etc._ the indiscretions of maister redhorn illustrated, mo, cloth, net c. the thousands who have read _wullie mcwattie's master_ will need no introduction to this scottish "penter" and his "pint o' view." the same dry scottish humor, winning philosophy and human nature fairly overflow these pages. the school and the world by victor gollancz and david somervell authors of "political education in a public school" london chapman & hall, ltd. to the school which both we and those who differed from us sought to serve preface in december, , the present writers wrote a little book entitled "political education in a public school," in which they put forward their views as to what the aims and methods of a modern liberal education should be. they also described certain experiments which they had been permitted to make in one of our old english public schools, experiments which both illustrated the authors' principles and tested their value. in july, , that book was published. but in the intervening seven months several things had happened. on the one hand, "political education" had produced further striking evidence of its power over boys' intellects and characters, evidence altogether more striking than anything that had occurred up to the time of writing the book. on the other hand, the movement in the full tide of its success ran upon rocks and has been, for the time being at any rate, utterly and completely destroyed. the authors have left the school in which their experiments were made. when the book was published, its reviewers in the press raised one by one a series of problems which we had already encountered in a practical shape in the course of our work, problems hardly touched on, however, in our book, which was devoted to exposition rather than argument. such problems were: how far is political propaganda inseparable from political education, and in what respects is such propaganda desirable or undesirable? how can political differences among the masters themselves be made to play a helpful rather than an injurious part? does the introduction of politics into the curriculum open a way, as the very able reviewer in _the westminster gazette_ suggested, for prussianism in its most insidious form, the conscription of educated opinion? are the old public schools the best medium for political education, or should the new wine be poured into new bottles? and lastly--for educational "subjects" are or should be but aspects of a single whole--what of political education in relation to morality, and to religion? the present volume, therefore, essays a twofold task. the first two chapters briefly recapitulate and continue the history of our work down to its abrupt end. the latter chapters deal with such questions as those mentioned above. one feature of the earlier volume survives in its successor. the appendix to that volume contained a selection of articles written by boys for our political paper, _the school observer_. as an appendix to this volume we print a few more articles by boys whose work did not then appear. we are under no delusions as to there being anything very extraordinary about these articles and those printed in the previous volume. abler work has been done by abler boys in various schools at various times. they are interesting as the combined effort of a group rather than as the work of individuals. we reproduce them as the only concrete evidence available of the character of one aspect of our experiment. in the former volume we suppressed the name of the school out of deference to the wishes of the head master, and though our own judgment was against the concealment as a wholly superfluous piece of mystification, we continue to respect his wishes. one word of apology is needed for the use to which we have put the utterances of our reviewers. the reviews revealed the interesting and important fact that thoughtful people really felt strongly, one way or the other, on the subject of political education. they constitute a symposium of conflicting judgments upon an educational problem of which they one and all recognize the importance, and as such their main features are worth preserving. having said this much about the reviews it is necessary to add a word more. the quotations we have chosen are, quite naturally, very largely critical, and as such give no idea of the very warm welcome the general policy of the book received. not one in five among the reviewers was hostile. one of them, however, the _church times_ reviewer, was virulently hostile, and appeared to us not merely to dislike our educational policy, which he had every right to do, but to blaspheme against the very idea of a liberal education. as we have quoted from no other "church" paper, we should like to remark here that a number of other such papers, representing various schools of religious thought, gave the book a generous welcome. our experiments perished in the dark days of last spring. within only a month or two came the turn of the tide. it is bitter to reflect that, could they but have survived until victory and peace brought a return of political sanity, they might have weathered the storm and conciliated some of their bitterest enemies, and reached safety. possibly, though gone, they have left their mark. meanwhile pneumonia has carried off, in the prime of early manhood, their staunchest friend among our colleagues. he was not one who took any but a very small part in the actual conduct of the experiments. he once lectured to _the politics class_ on "liberalism." but he had a genius for sympathy, and always, when difficulties arose, it was to him that we turned, because he had the gift of making us feel that it was still worth while to persevere. had we been wiser, he could perhaps have served us still further by bringing us into touch with some of those who differed from us, and helping to a mutual understanding. for everyone was his friend. the dedication of this book had already been chosen before he died, and we are unwilling to alter it, but perhaps we may also venture to offer it as an unworthy tribute to the memory of alan gorringe. contents chap. preface i. the rise ii. the collapse iii. propaganda iv. controversy v. capture by the state vi. the making of "politicians" vii. public schools and freak schools viii. morality ix. religion x. curriculum xi. the young generation and the old appendix "that such an experiment should have been permitted in one of the great public (english) schools is a sign of the greatest promise for the future."--_aberdeen free press_. "of all the objectionable and inept proposals for reforming the education of our public schools we must award the palm to the scheme of teaching boys politics."--_saturday review_. "we do not believe the authors have delivered all their message."--_scottish educational journal_. the school and the world chapter i the rise the school in which political education was tried for a space of something under two years is in no way a very remarkable school. it has its sixteenth-century founder, "of pious memory," and its "second founder," of memory almost more pious, in early victorian days. that second founder made the school famous as a centre of stalwart evangelicalism. more recently its fame has been won chiefly in the production of first-class cricketers. until the early years of the present century the school had also, we are told, a kind of inverted fame as one of the "stupidest" of the public schools, as a dumping ground for young hopefuls who could not pass entrance examinations elsewhere. from that reputation, however, it had struggled fairly successfully to free itself. the present writers started with the common assumption that the "classical" scheme of a liberal education had long broken down in practice, and survived only as feudalism survived in eighteenth-century france, because sufficient energy had not yet generated to create a new scheme to replace it. in part it had already disappeared and given place to the patchwork innovations of the earnest but painfully cautious and conservative reformers who have ruled the schools since the days of dr. arnold.[ ] the classical system had become the classical compromise, a clipped and truncated classics, fighting a losing battle for air space amidst a crowd of inadequately provided "new subjects"--history, literature, science, modern languages. in some ways the last state was worse than the first. for the first state had at least been based upon a great tradition and an ordered philosophy of life, but in the last state there was no tradition, no ordered philosophy; only a jumble and a scramble, and a passing of examinations. such a system or lack of system must fall a prey sooner or later to some educational movement based on a coherent and defensible doctrine. now, as it chances, such a movement is already in the field; we may call it the "cult of efficiency." it proclaims a great many truths about the necessity of increasing productivity, about the connection between education and the world of business, and generally speaking points to the achievements of germany for our envious imitation; it proclaims the commercial utility of spanish and russian, and ranges in its advocacy from advanced chemistry to shorthand and book-keeping. much that writers on these lines have to urge against the present system is perfectly sound and reasonable. many of their claims will have to be recognised in the educational system of the future. but the admission of their claim as a whole, of the claim of "efficiency" to be the true and rightful heir of the old classical education, would be, to speak without exaggeration, the greatest disaster that could possibly befall this country. what was wanted then was a conception of education at once "liberal" and "modern," and such the writers found in "politics," using that word in its widest platonic sense. the classical education set out to study the ancient world, and in the case of most of its pupils achieved little more than the dry elements of two dead languages. the study of the modern world has so far usually meant no more than the study of how to make a little money out of it; the trail of commercialism has been drawn over our modern sides. why should not the modern world be studied in the same noble and disinterested spirit as that in which the best of the old teachers studied the world of greece and rome? it is surely worthy of such study. only perhaps by such study in our schools can its wounds be healed. the central subject of a liberal education should be "to-day," the great difficulties amongst which we are all groping, the great problems awaiting solution, the great movements, capitalism and socialism, imperialism and internationalism, freedom and authority, that are battling for mastery or negotiating for a workable compromise. the value of the classics lies wholly in the contribution that classical art, philosophy, and history can make to the enrichment of our minds for the study of our own problems. the value of modern history lies in the inspiration of its great men, and the warning of its tragic experiences. the value of "divinity" is only found when we face the fundamental question, are we to apply christianity in our political and economic relations to-day, or are we not? but over and above this reorientation of subjects already scheduled in the orthodox time-table, there is the new subject within which all these (except divinity, which is fundamental) must be regarded as merely contributory, and that subject is "politics," the treatment, elementary yet thorough, vigorous yet many sided, of the great questions of the day, with all the diverse lines of thought along which each can be approached. here the fundamental "text-book" is the newspaper. growing up in such a world as this of , how can it be anything but sheer monasticism to divert the main part of a boy's intellectual energies away from this subject to anything else? our educational "america is here or nowhere." with this principle in view, and after various tentative experiments, we obtained permission to found the _politics class_ described in our previous book. suffice it to say here that the class was a voluntary body of some thirty or forty senior boys, that met once a week on a half-holiday evening to hear informal lectures from one or other of us, and occasionally from one or other of our colleagues, on questions of the day. sometimes the topic was purely general--"competition and co-operation," "the spirit of the reformer," or the like. sometimes a historical topic was traced rapidly from its beginnings down to a crisis of last week's newspaper, the discourse ending on the brink of the future with a note of interrogation; such were brief courses of lectures on "the irish question," and "the russian revolution." a third type were those that confined themselves to an analysis of a strictly contemporary situation, such as the lectures on the various "peace terms" speeches that led up to the versailles declaration of february, . no attempt was made to create any artificial popularity for the class. the scene was the ordinary bleak class-room with all its sad suggestiveness. ordinary notes were taken in ordinary note-books. no one, in fact, can have come from any motive but a genuine desire to know what was deemed worth knowing. parallel with the foundation of the _politics class_ had come a remodelling of the sixth form time-table. indeed, not modern politics but greek philosophy had been the first subject to stir that almost religious passion for a real understanding of things, without which knowledge is in the old man mere pedantry and in the young man mere grist for the examination mill. in the present educational chaos, school sixth forms are quite bewilderingly fissiparous. every one is a "specialist" of some sort or other; specialism means "private work," and if private work enables the gifted few to escape into self-education from the hampering attentions of the form master, it gives the rest a terrible training in the habits of time-wasting and evasion. yet so long as sixth form orthodoxy is classical scholarship work, the majority will rightly be found among the heretics, and that is the "specialists." the remodelled sixth form time-table made at least a move towards the recognition of the principle that, over and above specialisms, there were certain subjects that were the common concern of all educated men. a heterogeneous body drawn from all corners of the school time-table met together for modern history, for outlines of world history, and for general principles of science, and (with some regrettable abstentions) for political science and economics. some day it will appear ridiculous that these last subjects should not have been deemed a necessity for all the "specialists" alike. the real test of an educational system is not what the masters do for the boys, but what the boys do for themselves, and in this matter only one large undertaking fell within the scope of our previous book, namely the paper, _the school observer_, therein described and largely quoted. the idea of this paper, a political journal on the lines of a high-class weekly, published twice a term, with "notes on current events," political "leaders," literary and philosophic "middles," a poem or so, and correspondence all complete--this laughably magnificant idea came entirely from a little group of boys, and one at any rate of the present writers was at first frankly sceptical. well,--enthusiasm has a way of beating scepticism, at any rate when youth is thrown into the scale. we were quickly harnessed to our task as members of the editorial committee. our literary contributions were confined to a part of the "notes on current events," the portion of the paper that naturally attracted least outside notice, and was rarely singled out for praise. it is true that a discerning schoolmaster from another school remarked that these notes displayed "restrained strength even more remarkable in boys than the qualities of the other parts of the paper." i am ashamed to say we smiled and held our peace. five of the six issues of the paper appeared, and we had already contracted with our advertisers for a second volume when the crash came. in general, of course, the paper was much less important than the _politics class_. the class was a necessity to political education; the paper was a luxury. but it is a man's luxuries that give the clue to his character, and it was the very fact that the paper was always of the nature of a _jeu d'esprit_, a glorious game, a kind of fleet street doll's-house affair, that gave a sense of gay adventure to the pursuit of politics. when the paper had been suppressed, a boy who had never contributed to it said to me, "what a shame!" and he added very pensively, "it was all so extraordinarily romantic!" but so far the movement had only touched the sixth form, and in a minor degree such lower forms as the writers happened to meet in the course of their professional duties. that was plainly not enough. if boys are learning from their masters something that they really value, their natures are so essentially communicative and sociable that they will be eager to pass it on to their friends. this may seem a paradox, but it is true enough. if of two boys in constant contact, a is learning algebra and b is not, and if a refrains from talking algebra to b, one of two causes must be the explanation of a's reticence. either he does not care about b or else he does not care about algebra, and since by hypothesis he cares about b, we can only assume that he does not care about algebra. a simple experiment will verify our conclusion. drop an indiscretion about a colleague during the algebra lesson, and b, c, d and all the rest of them to a long way beyond z will know all about it before sunset. a, b, c, and d are interested in masters' opinions of each other. now we would not claim for a moment that all educational subjects should be required to pass this test of "interest," and rejected if they do not.[ ] that would be grotesque. but it seems to us that the central subject of a liberal education, that subject to which all others cohere and in relation to which all others are justified, ought to make some such appeal to enthusiasm. unless education produces enthusiasm for something, there is no education, and that is why it has so often been maintained that the real education of public schools is in the playing fields, because there alone, for most boys, enthusiasm is generated, if it is generated at all. (for most, one may remark in passing, it is not generated even there. the notion that the average boy is an enthusiast for cricket is as wide of the mark as would be the idea that he was an enthusiast for greek, natural science, or the church of england.) judged by this test of infectious enthusiasm, political education was to produce in the early months of , evidence of its educational worth such as we never dreamt of, and here again the pioneer was not ourselves but a boy, and that boy not one of the group that had started the paper. this boy, who had recently become head of his house, conceived the idea that politics could become the medium of the same spirit of joyous and unforced co-operation as is traditionally (and sometimes actually) associated with athletics. his idea of a school house was of a vigorous and jolly community, living together on terms of friendly equality such as reduced fagging and the oligarchial "prefect system" to a minimum, and uniting in a real effort to keep abreast with the great world outside by means of a co-operative study of politics and the press. the idea will seem mere foolishness and an impossibility to many of those who did not see it actually at work. at the best it will seem the kind of thing we may have read of in books about "freak schools," where so much loss has obviously to be set against whatever is gained. in this case, not only the idea, but all the practical details came from the boy himself and the little band of enthusiasts that gathered round him. indeed, one feels a sense of impropriety in describing what was essentially not our work, but his. however, it was the fine flower of political education, and as such may fitly close this chapter. "houses," after all, and not "forms," are the natural social units that compose a public school, and a scheme of education that becomes in the best sense popular may, indeed must, take its rise in the classroom, but will find its freest development in the life of house reading-room and house study. the chief among many "stunts," as they were called, was a political society. the twenty-five members of this society, rather over half the house, undertook to read between them nearly all the more important newspapers, including one or two french papers. on sunday the society sat in conclave, the three or four leading events of the week were taken each in turn, and the individual or group responsible for each newspaper put forward the view of the event in question taken by his own particular organ. these views were compared and debated, and ultimately a brief synopsis was drawn up, consisting of the event itself, with the chief typical utterances of the press on the subject set out underneath, for purposes of comparison and contrast. these were typed and posted on a board as "news of the week." neither of us ever attended a meeting of this society, and it is obvious, from the fact that more than half the house joined in, that we are not concerned here with the activities of a little set of intellectualists. in the fullest sense in which the word is applicable in a public school, these political activities were "democratic," and the effect on the "english" work of some of the boys in middle forms was most remarkable. the present writer recalls, for instance, a middle fifth essay of some three thousand words on the complex, and in some ways repellent, subject of "national guilds." on how many successive nights the rule against "sitting up" was broken over the composition of this work the recipient of the essay forebore to inquire. from this beginning other developments rapidly opened. a modest but useful idea was a question paper, on which any one who liked could set down questions that occurred to him in the course of his reading. the house library naturally felt the impact of the movement, and a political section was started in which books about the greeks and mill's "liberty" stood side by side with the latest essay on "reconstruction." but it would be giving an altogether unworthy notion of the movement if it were suggested that politics alone, in the narrower sense, marked the limit of these activities. the best modern plays and poetry began to appear on shelves whence rubbishy novels of a past generation were removed to make room for them. nor were older books neglected. the general drift of interest was inevitably towards the moderns; but the great poets of the past were also finding their way in before the end came. then, of course, there was a gramophone, with its "popular" and "classical" repertoires; and before the end came, the "classical" had so far surpassed the "popular" in popularity that house piano recitals had begun as well. another development was on lines that would have gladdened the heart of ruskin and morris, though i do not know that either of these was consciously recognised as an influence. a movement arose for beautifying the studies, which began with pseudo-japanese lamp-shades, and moved upward through pretty curtains and tablecloths to framed "medici" pictures. before the end there was hardly a study that had not its big framed medici, and often a selection of medici postcards as well. all these things involved, of course, some considerable expenditure; but the cost was met with an eagerness astonishing to the boys themselves when they reflected that, a few months before, so-and-so "had never cared about anything but the tuck shop." other houses began to catch the spirit of the thing--a trifle reluctantly and tentatively, it must be admitted, for there is a good deal of improper pride about a school house, and imitations have not quite the glamour of originals. also the whole movement was by this time falling under a cloud, and it is now time to give some account of the collapse. [ ] a brilliant "depreciation" of arnold and his school has recently appeared in mr. lytton strachey's "eminent victorians." [ ] something more is said on this subject in chapter x. chapter ii the collapse "teachers though they are, mr. gollancz and mr. somervell do not seem quite to realise ... what obstacles have to be overcome before the advice given in their little book is generally taken."--_the westminster gazette_. our account of the collapse of our experiment has to be written, as the reader will easily understand, with a good deal of reserve. "the rise" was the work of ourselves and our pupils. "the collapse" was the work of others. it is not a question of "dora"; it is not a question of the common law of libel; there are certain older laws of courtesy and forbearance which we would fain observe, for he who has not learnt to observe these has hardly made a beginning with political education. so let it be said to begin with that no one was to blame. things followed their predestined course, and every actor in the drama played the part that was natural and proper to him. it was natural that the movement should be destroyed by masters as that its success should be made by boys. if any one is to blame it is ourselves. it was we who chose to pour new wine into old bottles--the preference for old bottles is explained in chapter vi.--and when the custodians of the bottles awoke to the fact and hastily poured the wine out again, fearing disaster, they certainly thought they were acting for the best. needless to say, we have often discussed the question whether, had the movement run on other lines, had we been content with rather less to begin with, had we considered principle rather less and prudence rather more, had we added the _rôle_ of diplomatist to the _rôle_ of missionary, had we hardened our hearts against some of the best boys in order to soften the hearts of some of the more tractable masters--had we done all these things, could we have postponed or even permanently escaped the collapse? on the whole, we come to the conclusion that, much as we regret many plain mistakes of detail, in the main it is best that the bold course was taken, we rode boldly, and, in the last months, we had to ride for a fall. an experiment has been made by frontal attack, and with the slenderest of resources. now that all that is over, the time has come to begin the slow and circuitous approach toward political education as a normal institution. the material of our experiment was boys and boys alone. now, at first sight, a school might seem to consist of boys, but in point of fact boys are only one element in a complex organisation embracing boys, masters, head master, bursar, governors, and parents. the boys are only there to be educated, and education is a matter about which very few people have any strongly cherished ideas. for very many, public school education is a species of "doing time," whereby a child of fourteen is taken and simply kept out of mischief (or, at any rate, kept away from home, where he would be a nuisance), until at eighteen he is become a man. but the other constituent parts of the school have serious commercial interests at stake. for the masters the school is the means of livelihood, and the livelihood afforded them is in many cases so niggardly that they very rightly consider that the smallest financial mishap to the school might plunge them below the line of bare subsistence. from a slightly different angle, the eyes of the higher officials and the governors are fixed upon the same point. a head master once remarked to me of one of his governors, "old x.'s only idea is that the school should pay five per cent." and the parents. it is an article of faith with the present writers that parents are wiser, more tolerant and more open to ideas on educational matters, than schoolmasters generally suppose. but parents live at a distance, and only make themselves felt at moments of crisis, and then the crisis is one which they probably only very imperfectly understand. that is all the fault of the schools, for the schools have never made a serious attempt to take the parents into partnership in the matter of their sons' education. and here we are back against the root of all evil, for the reason why this has not been done is that the schools have not yet seriously faced the fact that a liberal education for the average boy is an unsolved problem, for the solution of which they need all the help they can possibly get. of course this taking of the parent into partnership would be no easy matter. readers of that wise and humorous tale, "the lanchester tradition," will remember the comical failure of the head master's attempt at a "parents' committee." still, all this being so, the fact emerges that the important factor in the problem of the moment is not the real parent but the traditional parent, and the false image of the traditional parent has been created in the schoolmaster's mind by that fussy and ill-informed individual who is always "writing to complain." now, he who pays the piper does not necessarily call the tune. that would be too absurd. but he has a veto on any tune he too positively dislikes, and it is well known that the unmusical generally dislike a _new_ tune. the opposition to political education developed along two lines. one of them makes this story a microcosm of the world history of the years - . the other is something peculiar to the english public schools, and might have befallen at any period since dr. arnold inaugurated their modern history. when we began our experiments the "party truce," in the moral as distinct from the formal sense, still held good. outside the circles of strict pacifism--and with pacifism in any but a merely abusive sense we never had any concern--english people were agreed upon the great questions of the war. such differences of opinion as there were concerned only questions of method and expediency, not questions of principle. the "gospel" of august, , had not yet become a battle-ground disputed by fiercely earnest rival sects. we were liberals in a general sense, but we differed on a great many topics, and we were genuinely anxious, in the words of one of our pupils in the school magazine, "not so much to advocate any one particular remedy of any given problem as to lay before the class the problems themselves and the principal reforms which have been or are being suggested, so that thought and criticism may have full scope for exercise." it would be unfair to ourselves to admit that we abandoned that ideal, but the events of brought a new spirit into the world. on the one hand, the early days of the russian revolution and the demand for a peace "without annexations or indemnities," coupled with the entry of america and the war speeches of president wilson, seemed to revive the flagging idealism of the allies and lift it to a more universal and exalted level than ever before. on the other hand, the publication of the secret treaties and the many incomplete revelations that followed thereon, laid bare the fact that quite another act of motives were also at work among our leaders; that territorial greed and diplomatic hypocrisy were enemies to be fought in our own midst as well as on the battlefield. the issues of the war assumed a grander and a more terrible aspect. more than ever before perhaps in the history of the world--and we do not overlook the period of the so-called religious wars--religion and politics fused. to us, at any rate, the calm aloofness suggested by the quotation above became impossible. a cry seemed to have gone forth, "who is on the lord's side? who?" a great gulf opened up between those who only a year before had believed themselves to be for the time at any rate in one political camp. on one side of that gulf we found ourselves, and on the other most of our colleagues. it was not that we differed from them as to the necessity of winning the war, and of putting forward every possible military effort for that end. but everything depends on the uses to which the victory is put, and the spirit in which it is approached, and there the differences were profound. and thus the _politics class_ became a school of liberalism.[ ] it was no intolerant liberalism, for intolerant liberalism is not liberalism at all. from first to last we stood for the examination of all points of view. we were for reading the views of those we disagreed with, not for abusing them unheard or burning their books unread. in so far as some of our pupils carried liberalism to the point of intolerance, they lost the spirit of the movement they professed to support. there were not many against whom this charge could be brought. one of our most ardent democrats, i remember, sent me during the time of his military training a careful and painstaking examination of mr. mallock's latest big book. the excuse of those that fell into intolerance must be, i suppose, that they were young, and that they found themselves confronted by an astonishing spectacle of intolerance in some of their "conservative" masters. when this change was taking place, we sought to redress the balance by taking into partnership in the running of the _politics class_ a strongly conservative master. such an arrangement would have been admirable had the genuine educational spirit been there. it was not. the overture was a failure and only added to our difficulties. to some men it seemed better to root out the liberal masters as "traitors" than to co-operate with them as teachers. on the eve of the final collapse, a similar experiment was tried with _the school observer_. the last number bears the names of two "editors," and contains both a liberal and a conservative "leader" written on the same topic. the innovation was made at the last minute, and the conservative "leader" is not a genuine schoolboy production, but the model may be a useful one for future work on the same lines. but there was another influence making for the collapse. we quoted in our previous book a head master who remarked at a school prize-giving that the only questions worth asking are those that cannot get a definite answer. political education consists almost entirely of such questions. its sheet anchor is freedom of thought; its method is controversy; its end is not in complete mastery of a box of intellectual tricks such as will win full marks in an examination, but in the modesty of realised ignorance and the enthusiastic search for fresh lights in the darkness. socrates was put to death by the athenians because he would not desist from asking them questions, and it is to be feared that some of our pupils would have incurred the same fate had the customs of the time permitted it. the taste for controversy on the fundamental subjects will grip a youth like the taste for drink, as many who have passed through undergraduate days at oxford or cambridge can remember. suppose a boy enters into political controversy with his form master, over the| giving back of an essay, or with his house master at the luncheon table.... now, there is a divinity that doth hedge a schoolmaster, and the hedge must be kept in somewhat careful repair. so long as we are concerned with subjects like elementary latin and greek or mathematics, we are dealing with a body of knowledge in which, to take the examinations standard, all the masters get full marks. all knowledge is contained in a set of small school books which the masters, for their sins, know more or less by heart backwards. even history, if it is sufficiently badly taught, may be grouped among such subjects, for, strange as it may seem, it is quite possible to teach it in such a way that no boy feels impelled to ask questions either insoluble in themselves or beyond the scope of the master's immediate memory. there are schoolmasters who definitely discourage or even forbid the asking of questions by the class. "little boys should be seen and not heard"--that worst of all educational maxims--makes a larger contribution to the buttressing up of the present system than is usually supposed. a lowering diet of irregular verbs keeps the boy mind "docile," to use a word of ironically perverted meaning, and prevents it from impinging embarrassingly upon the lightly guarded regions of the master's intellectual entrenchments. in fact, political education set up a new intellectual standard. it was a subject in which no one, boy or master, got "full marks,"--scarcely even president wilson, perhaps, if you took his "work" as a whole! all were learners, all were fellow workers together, and before the vast scope of the task, differences of proficiency between the various workers seemed hardly to matter. here, then, rises a difficult question. ought the schoolmaster to possess, or appear to possess, complete knowledge of the subject he teaches? the present writer has taught a good variety of subjects during nine years, and on the whole he has found his ignorance, not only of politics, but of far more finite matters, a very helpful educational instrument. as an emergency teacher of latin on the modern side, for instance, he found it a positive advantage that he had forgotten more of the language than his pupils had ever learnt. his occasional quaint errors did not always pass undetected, and their detection had probably an educational stimulus for the form which outweighed the loss incurred when his mistakes passed without notice. nor did he feel greatly the loss of intellectual stature. it was partly made good by the ingenuity with which he explained how he had come to make the mistake. and if there was loss in intellectual prestige, there was an increased sense of intellectual comradeship. but this is a trifling and not wholly serious digression. some masters stand for intellectual infallibility. these political discussions disturbed them. they felt that their credentials as schoolmasters were being examined and found wanting. they accused the boys of priggery. it was a most false charge, for the boys were enthusiasts, and enthusiasm is a form of self-forgetfulness as priggery is a form of self-consciousness. still priggery was the word. the charge of "priggery" was added to the charge of "pacifism." on these two lines the opposition developed and ultimately triumphed. it was suggested that "the school would be empty in a couple of years," if political education continued. here, it would seem, our critics were trading on their false idea of the parent, and believing what they wished to believe. take the statistics of entries, which is the only tangible evidence on the subject, and the only conclusion you can draw is that political education either had no effect at all, or that it slightly increased the commercial well-being of the school. it was not on such ground as this that political education was doomed. as we said at the beginning of the chapter, the material of our experiments was the boys and them alone. we had made a short cut. we had made no effort to convert our colleague. we trusted to results for their conversion. but, as the preceding narrative will have shown, the greater our success, the greater became their irritation, when success was labelled "pacifism" and "priggery." without intending it, we had played "pied piper" upon some of the best of the house masters' foster children. we had envisaged a school as a single corporate society, boys and masters working together with the maximum of frankness and equality for the common end, education. we had not allowed for the fact that a school cannot become such a corporate society, unless the staff has become such at the same time. like three-quarters of the reformers of history, we had, in our own despite, become rebels. and so all was over. there is now no _politics class_, no _school observer_ in the school of their foundation, though two other schools of fame have started papers on similar lines, with handsome acknowledgments to our example. there are no political societies in the houses. two or three of our pupils have left before their time, and we, the authors, are no longer schoolmasters, only "educationists,"--it is a change for the worse. [ ] generally speaking, the liberalism of _the manchester guardian_ or of president wilson's speeches. chapter iii propaganda "a point hardly touched on in the book is the difficulty of teaching politics without the disadvantages of partisanship. it is worth discussion."--_manchester guardian_. "if 'politics'--even politics as an art culled from the classics, from _pro-german_[ ] economists and historians, from poets such as shelley, and from _german_[ ] higher critics of the bible--were taught to fifth form boys with crude impressionable minds, the result would be bolshevism. we agree that under careful guidance much of ultimate political value can be taught from history and literature. but it must be done with infinite care, and opinions must be excluded from the teaching. that is the difficulty."--_contemporary review_. "clever boys will learn their politics for themselves."--_saturday review_. "the public schools have for years past covered their quiet infiltration of conservative principles with a camouflage of strict neutrality. teachers though they are, the authors do not seem quite to realise what a formidable protective device this banning of the modern history which we call politics has been, and what obstacles have to be overcome before the advice given in their little book is generally taken."--_westminster gazette_. two great objections have to be met if politics is to become the central subject in our public school education. the desirability of such a change may be urged from many points of view; and the practical results obtained during the course of our recent experiment seemed to us even more valuable than preliminary theorising had led us to expect. once make a boy think about the life of his own time and the great principles whose fight for mastery he is witnessing; once make him wonder about the actual machinery by which his world is moved; once set him speculating about the meaning of the universe and of his own existence; and you have created such a spirit of eager enthusiasm and inquiry, that at last that development of the individual personality is achieved which, as every great educationist since plato has told us, must be the aim of all who desire to be more than mere teachers. modern history, politics, sociology, economics, ethics, even _metaphysics_--we may class all these under the broad heading of politics, for one and all they deal with the life and destiny of the individual as a member of human society and a part of the universe. there is no human being who, at least while he is young, does not feel a keen interest in such things; the deepest waters are stirred and the classroom becomes the meeting-place of minds engaged in an exciting adventure instead of being, as is so often now the case, a prison cell in which all a boy's spontaneity and joy of life are crushed out beyond recall. yet the two objections remain, and to one of them we address ourselves in this chapter.[ ] when the possibility of political teaching is considered, the first thought that leaps to the mind is: can the subject be taught without the introduction of propaganda? and is not politics just the one subject in which propaganda is above everything undesirable? now it may be pointed out that the present system of public school education is itself a form of political propaganda none the less effective for being concealed. a boy is sent to a public school with a set of political notions imbibed from his parents and the circle in which he moves, and during the whole period of his boyhood, no genuine effort is made to develop his powers of independent thought and so to enable him to revise his inherited opinions. a certain stimulus no doubt is given to his mental activity by setting him mathematical problems to solve and passages in the classical authors to construe; but his thought on political and social questions remains a thing apart, unstirred, atrophied. what else is this but political propaganda? and when it is reinforced by a thousand subtle hints in and out of the classroom, hints suggesting that, of course, there can be no two opinions about so-and-so and his supporters, it becomes one of the most potent instruments of mental darkness that has ever been allowed to function in a rational community. but the objection to propaganda is not to be met by a "tu quoque." it is one which raises the most fundamental issues of educational theory. to develop, we are told, and not to mould, is the aim of education; and every genuine educationist will eagerly agree. yet you cannot develop in a vacuum. you must impart some background for the young mind, give it some material on which to work. how, then, can the compromise be effected? how can we inculcate and yet at the same time aim above every thing at the development of an individuality, which may and indeed must, be so very different from our own? the answer is not really hard to find. what we inculcate, the background we give, must be considered by us as merely a stop-gap, a poor temporary support which the child may fling away when he can support himself. and even while we are giving the support, we must at every moment be developing the power which will as soon as possible dispense with it. if this _caveat_ is borne in mind and honestly observed, propaganda, whether in political, philosophical, or religious teaching, becomes not only defensible but actually desirable. nothing can be more fatal than to give the impression that it does not very much matter which of several conflicting principles or policies a boy adopts; that there are after all equally strong arguments on both sides, and that the adhesion of the world to one philosophy of life and code of conduct rather than another will make no very vital difference to anybody. yet if the teacher presents his subject in a perfectly balanced and passionless manner such a result will inevitably follow. the boy will notice his master's lack of enthusiasm, and consequently remain unenthusiastic himself; and not only will that intellectual eagerness remain undeveloped, which is as a spark to set his whole nature ablaze, but also he will feel none of that moral passion for principles which is the crying need of the world to-day. a master in another school, which had adopted the idea of a politics class, heard of the excitement and controversy which ours was occasioning, and remarked adversely on our methods. "we teach politics too," he said, "but we are careful that the boys should never be able to discover on which side our own sympathies lie. consequently there is no excitement and no controversy. politics are thought of in just the same way as any other school subject." we can well believe it. our whole idea, of course, is that they should not be so thought of; that they should be regarded rather as a matter of most vital interest and importance both for the boy himself and for the world as a whole. we would have a boy feel an attachment to principles as romantic and absorbing as his affections for his dearest friend, not coldly cancel one principle against the other as if he were doing a sum in mathematics. but it is time that we explained exactly what we mean when we say that a master should not shrink from propaganda in political teaching. we do not by any means intend that he should state only his own point of view, and pass over the arguments that may be urged against it. that would be the merest parody of education. rather do we mean that he should adopt a threefold method. he should put forward his own view with all the enthusiasm that he feels for it (we have been called "missionaries" by way of abuse, but find nothing but honour in the word); simultaneously, he should impress on his pupils the fact that it after all is only his view, and urge them not merely to accept but to examine and criticise; and finally, he should explain with complete honesty every point that has been, or possibly could be, raised against it. we call this method "propaganda," because a fire is imparted to the statement of one side which cannot, from the nature of the case, be imparted to that of the other; but it is propaganda in which there is no touch of dishonesty or obscurantism. we have said that, while he is presenting his case, the master should be urging his pupils to examine and criticise it. but he should do more than this; if he is a liberal, he should spend much of his time in a direct propaganda of the great liberal principles--freedom of thought and discussion; the sanctity of the individual conscience; the paramount importance of moral and intellectual independence. in this way he will be creating a habit of mind which will _naturally_ criticise; and so by his propaganda of general liberalism he will annihilate the vantage-point he would otherwise occupy in his propaganda of particular principles and policies. we speak of "liberal education," and surely the epithet is meaningless unless it be taken to imply that conversion to those general principles is the very bed-rock of education. but others think otherwise, and so we would point out the broad distinction which must be drawn between propaganda of the simple liberal and propaganda of the simple reactionary principle--on the one hand freedom of thought, on the other acceptance of ideas not one's own. our liberal propaganda carries with it the instrument of its own overthrow. if you can inspire a boy with a desire to put all things to the test of his own free conscience, you are empowering him to criticise everything you teach--even that very liberty of opinion, a belief in which you have been so anxious to create. but with reactionary propaganda it is quite otherwise. by it a static habit of mind is produced--a habit of mind which, except by way of a mercifully not uncommon revolt, is a pawn in the hands of its present teacher, and that public opinion which in time to come will take its teacher's place. a word may be added on the means best calculated to produce the free mind at which we are aiming. use, of course, can and should be always made of the fundamental arguments (all to be found in mill) in favour of liberty of opinion. but there is one case in which the employment of a subsidiary method may give even more valuable results. where a boy holds tenaciously to an opinion which you think to be evil, argue against it unceasingly; show him the errors of it; point out passionately the beauty of its alternative. the stronger his conviction, the better; indeed, deliberately choose his deepest-seated prejudice--attack him in the very heart of what you regard as his error. then, when at last he sees that the opinion which he had thought of as the only possible one is in reality wrong, and that another which he had loathed is in reality right, a tremendous intellectual conversion will have taken place; his own case will constantly act as a warning to him whenever he is again tempted to prejudice or narrowness of outlook. [ ] the italics are ours. why were these two words inserted, we wonder. [ ] the other is dealt with in chapter v. chapter iv controversy "while a formidable strife between masters of different creeds might be engendered, it is arguable that the finest political spirit might be fostered by approaching the problems under the conditions of fairness and courtesy on which the public schools pride themselves."[ ]--_manchester guardian_. "tolerance, to be more than a pale and negative virtue, needs to be based on an understanding of these different points of view, which means, again, bringing an educated mind to bear on them."--_westminster gazette_. "boys always will be boys" they say, and the saying can be interpreted in many ways. "masters always will be masters" is a more sobering reflection. the reputation of schoolmasters for sweet reasonableness has never stood, perhaps, particularly high. even supposing that, with a staff of angels, such a scheme of teaching as that sketched in the preceding chapter were desirable, will not the actual result be something very different? will not "a formidable strife between masters of different creeds be engendered," and will not the spectacle of that strife, and a possible participation in it, be the very worst possible training for the new generation? the difficulty is one that has got to be faced, and the present writers, at any rate, are not at all likely to overlook it. as was shown in chapter ii., our experiments collapsed not because our colleagues differed from us in political opinion, but because, differing from us in political opinion, they also differed from us in educational theory. had the experiment collapsed simply because they differed from us in political opinion, it would be no use pursuing the subject of political education further; for a staff in which all the masters held the same political views would be unlikely to exist, and in any case altogether undesirable. we may take it for granted that the staff will consist of men of diverse political opinions. indeed we may go further and take it for granted that in a school in which political education flourishes, those diversities, though certainly less bitter, will be more clearly marked than at present. in such a school the masters, for the most part, will be keenly interested in politics, for the school must be a single society of men and boys in real intellectual co-operation. what is good for the boys will be good for the masters. perverse metaphors comparing masters and boys to hounds and hares will be seen as the symptom of a radically false educational philosophy. if political education becomes not merely an experiment but an integral part of the timetable, the staff as a whole, not necessarily all the masters, but all those concerned with what are at present ironically called "the humanities," will be taking a part in it. but how can this be worked? we are here faced with a problem such as none of the ordinary school subjects has ever raised, at any rate in this acute form. everything depends upon the educational philosophy of the staff. everything depends upon the extent of their belief in freedom of opinion. the case for freedom of opinion, like the case for self-government, has suffered from the fact that we take the theory so completely for granted that we do not notice how far we are removed from the practice of it. freedom is supposed to be an englishman's speciality. "britons never shall be slaves," we say, and suppose that settles the matter. very likely thomson, when he wrote his feeble verses (they have been redeemed by an excellent tune), never paused to reflect that the sailors he was glorifying were mostly victims of the press-gang. it is but a step from a press-gang to a press bureau. most englishmen are not very anxious to tolerate any opinions but their own, if the subject be one that they deem of vital importance. very few have the faith of the great apostles of freedom, the conviction that right opinion can only triumph through fair and open conflict with the wrong. the cause of freedom, then, fares badly enough in the world outside, when we are only concerned with its application to those who have reached "years of discretion." inside the school the difficulties are admittedly greater, and freedom has hitherto had a poor chance. yet without freedom, though there may be instruction, there can hardly be education. in so far then as the staff fall short in this vital matter of toleration, they must themselves go to school and learn; and he is probably a poor teacher who is not himself ever learning something more. here perhaps the head master might find one of his finest opportunities. the conscientious modern head master often finds it hard to rise above the mass of administrative work attached to his office. he resembles philip ii. of spain, of whom it was said that he was always trying to be his own private secretary. meanwhile his assistants go their own ways, each narrowing into his own little intellectual groove. the result, at any rate in the more remote and less distinguished schools--that is to say, the vast majority--is a society far from idyllic. even if politics were to engender "a formidable strife," the discords would not be breaking in upon any very beautiful harmonies. two novels have recently been written by schoolmasters about their profession, and even if "mr. perrin and mr. traill" may be discounted as the ill-natured revenge of a clever man who had mistaken his profession, "the lanchester tradition" has, we believe, been generally hailed as a truthful record. masters at many schools have exclaimed, "how on earth does this rugby man come to know all about _us_?" teaching is spiritual work or it is nothing, and the head master ought to be, as the greatest head masters have been, a true leader of his staff in spiritual things. our profession is the most insanely individualistic in the world. probably the teaching of every subject would be improved by the establishment of a really organised co-operation between the various masters teaching it, and "politics," with its strong human appeal would, with a leader worthy of his position, be the best place to begin. masters would meet for a genuine educational purpose--and the last thing ever discussed at the masters' meetings we have attended has been educational principles--they would learn to see into each others' minds and methods, enlarge their intellectual sympathies and understand their differences. thus a real corporate intellectual life of the staff might begin. often at present this does not exist, and its absence is fatal to the school as a seriously intellectual institution. and surely the need for the tolerant staff can hardly be exaggerated. and here we are thinking not so much of the war and its controversies as of the days that will follow. after the war a baser motive than even the crudest jingo patriotism will claim a monopoly over the political thought of public schoolboys for the defence not of "country," but of property. the unorthodox will be denounced not as "pacifists," but as "socialists," and the enemy will be not the kaiser, but perhaps the prime minister of a labour government. but just as the only hope for the world after the war seems to lie in a league of nations, so the only hope for england lies in the co-operation of all classes in a common search for industrial justice. the public schools are "class preserves" of the rich, and their opportunity for good, as for harm, will be almost boundless. "to turn out the young of the capitalist class with all their capitalist prejudices intact will be sheer dereliction of duty on the part of public schoolmasters." so wrote a great teacher of the older generation. the obvious way of destroying those prejudices as prejudices is by an enthusiastic and capable exposition of various forms of socialism. this can best be done by socialist masters. but, supposing the socialist teaching is false, why should those who are not socialists fear for the result? it is a necessary part of the scheme that they on their side should make a reasoned defence of a reformed capitalism. if this is done "the young of the capitalist class" may be turned out socialists or anti-socialists, but at least they will go out into the world men of some economic understanding, with views based on reasoning, and by further reasoning or experience liable to be changed, not men with inherited prejudice intact. if we assume in our staff a general inclination towards freedom of opinion, everything becomes possible. a hundred questions of organisation arise, essentially practical questions, and more easily solved by concrete experiment than by literary methods. it may, however, be worthy while to glance at a few of these. masters will always be human; and political education must be so organised as to suggest in every way that the masters of divergent views are co-operating in a general scheme of political education such as no one of them alone could impart, not competing for the political allegiance of the boys. a school is not a bye-election in permanent session. thus, though a controversial element is bound to come into political education, we would mitigate this element by not allowing any one form to go to more than one master for political work. the boy will pass from form to form, and thus the conservatism of a summer term will be tempered by the radicalism of the following winter. but these political compartments will not be particularly air-tight in any case. the house master will be a permanent influence, and when a keen-witted boy has just got out of the form of a sympathetic master, it is unlikely that they will altogether lose touch with one another. at the top of the school, however, the controversial element should be more frankly accepted. we believe in the permanent institution of a voluntary _politics class_ in which the best boys will hear again the best of the masters who have taught them on their way up the school. between such a _politics class_ and a really efficient school debating society it might be hard to draw a precise line. one would play into the hands of the other. the "judicial" teacher, the man who from an olympian elevation surveys the political strivings of past and present alike, and analyses, catalogues, and defines, creating all the while an impression of luminous impartiality, may, of course, do much good work. the present writer would be the last man to deny it when he remembers his own debt to a teacher of that kind. none the less, we believe that it is the other kind of teaching that is really needed in the schools of the well-to-do to-day.[ ] the political problems of our time are of intense and terrible importance: on their solution this way or that depends the happiness or the misery of uncounted millions; and it is so largely on the way that the young of the privileged classes learn to look at them that their solution depends. "judicial" teaching creates the impression that so long as you "know the case" for or against a policy, it does not matter whether you believe it, and as for acting upon it, or making sacrifices for it, there is no question of doing anything so "extreme." education _must_ create enthusiasm. it must also make for many-sidedness, and so we arrive at the function of the staff, the many-sided staff of enthusiasts. let each one believe himself, if he is young enough to do so, the monopolist of political truth. let each one differ from all his colleagues on every subject under the sun, except two, the infinite possibilities of the boys he teaches, and the infinite importance of freedom of opinion. [ ] is there a little irony here? [ ] whether any particular single school can afford to experiment in such teaching is, of course, another matter altogether. gallio is a less troublesome colleague than paul, and paul will waste his breath if he complains of the obvious fact that such things are so. but he has a better ground of complaint when he sees himself silenced, while sosthenes is allowed to carry on as vigorously as he pleases. chapter v capture by the state "it is a great and perilous discovery that the state can [as in germany] impress the minds of masses of men by a carefully organised system of political education, and we hope the authors will bear it in mind."--_westminster gazette_. "germany has shown the world to what evil ends the dishonest use of schools and schoolmasters must lead."--_contemporary review_. we have discussed the pros and cons of propaganda--the propaganda, that is to say, by each master of his particular point of view--and have concluded that, if certain safeguards are adopted and honestly adhered to, such propaganda is desirable. but there is one particular form of propaganda which no one, if he has any reverence at all for the individuality of his pupils and the freedom of the world, can regard as anything but an abomination. and here we meet with the most serious criticism which can be, and has been, levelled against the project of political education. suppose, it has been urged, that your scheme is adopted by a number of the public schools; suppose that by a steady process of attack, this new and very powerful piece of machinery is captured by the state, as a means of imposing orthodoxy on the nation and nipping in the bud a great part of our potential vigour and independence; have you not then defeated most disastrously your own object, and desiring above everything more liberty in thought and more self-reliance in action, merely succeeded in setting up a system similar to that which created the national character of modern germany? it is at first sight a most damaging criticism; and a criticism which seems to gather weight as we look about us and observe the terrible results which have occurred when the state has been allowed to manipulate opinion for its own ends. no englishman will need to have the lesson of germany brought home to him; he knows too well how inculcation through the schools of the worst type of narrow patriotism, rendered seemingly noble by a deliberate falsification of history, has warped the generosity which all children, german or other, possess, into a pitiful acquiescence in every form of intellectual and moral vileness. but in england, too, the danger signals are not wanting. we have observed the people falling more and more under the sway of one man's ideas, carried by his press into every town and village of the countryside: we have noticed that complete independence does not appear always to exist as between the press and the men who are responsible for the gravest acts of public policy; and some of us do not much like what we have seen. are we then to help forward the forces making for our own prussianisation? we desire to see politics taught by masters of every shade of political opinion, so that the boys may have all the materials from which to form an independent judgment; but will not the state see to it, as it grows more and more powerful, that only those men are allowed to become, or to remain, schoolmasters, who will teach a doctrine not abhorrent to the powers that be? those who know the public schools will not be at a loss to understand how such a consummation could be achieved. even now there is the pressure of parents, members of the financial or political wing of the ruling class--a pressure few head masters are big enough to resist. and in the future--to take only one instance--may not conscription remain, and the government exercise a direct control through the medium of the o.t.c.? and as one writes these words; as one sees the ghastly prospect of more and more state control, more and more authoritarianism and docility, less and less of the free co-operation which is the very life-blood of society, one sees also that the only way in which we can prevent the remedy we have proposed from becoming another instrument in the hands of our enemies, is simply by adopting that remedy itself. we must break in on the vicious circle while and how we can. for why is there a danger of our instrument of education being turned into an instrument of obscurantism? only because there is a danger of our whole society becoming rotten to the core; only because there is a danger of the present cleavage between the two english nations becoming wider and wider, until we have, on the one hand, a class ruling in the interests of money and privilege, and, on the other, a slaving and possibly pampered proletariate. and unless a start is made here and now with the political education of europe--unless boys and girls are made to think politically while their generosity and idealism is still untainted by motives of personal profit, and their powers of vital thought not yet decayed by disuse--these and worse things will happen; love, tolerance, and the independence which is the birthright of men, will all be engulfed in a mad welter of personal, class, and national selfishness. in such a society it really would not matter very much if political education were captured by the state; and the only way, as it seems to us, of preventing its advent is by getting up a system of political education. for by political education we are creating the only possible safeguard against a misuse of it--we are creating a society which will not _desire_ to misuse it. and so we would make, if we may, an appeal to all who are considering what their future work shall be, and to those also who may be finding their present work unprofitable--we would urge them to become schoolmasters. we like sometimes to think of a little greek army of devoted warriors--a band of five hundred young men, who will go into the public schools and there gradually help to set up a system of political education. the word "greek" is not out of place. for there is something about the sunlit freshness of a cricket field--something too, about the boys, belonging for the most part to a class which, with all its faults, has a great tradition of public service behind it--that brings before the mind a gathering of greek humanity in the smiling peace of a greek country place. it is idle to pretend that a man of ability who goes into the schoolmastering profession does not have to make many sacrifices. his salary is usually miserable; his chances of a head mastership must be at present in inverse ratio to the vigour with which he acts on the principles he believes in, for these posts are mostly reserved for the "safe," as the debates of the head masters' conference used to show, until, a few years ago, that body very wisely decided to exclude reporters. but the compensations are enormous. he will live all his life close to boys whom, when he once gets to know them, he will find to have a freshness and high-heartedness which will be a constant source of hope and inspiration; he will have the joy of watching their minds develop, and of feeling that it is due in some measure to him that they are growing into makers of happiness for themselves and the world. and when in his work he is met by the opposition of those who misinterpret or misunderstand, he will have an almost fierce satisfaction in the faith that the future may be all on his side, and that many years hence a little of him will live in men who have realised not his, but their, individuality, and that potentiality for goodness which, as well as he was able, he fostered and brought to the light. we have both been schoolmasters; at the moment we are neither of us anything so useful; and we feel that we can say quite dogmatically that there is no happiness equal to that of the profession that was ours. and both of us fell into it accidently, as so many others have done. yet the appeal for schoolmasters should surely not be based entirely or even mainly on the idyllic picture of the happy schoolmaster. john stuart mill reduced hedonism to its fundamental paradox when he declared that the way to find happiness was to turn your back on it. if there is one lesson which political education rightly conducted cannot fail to impress upon its best boys, it is the crying need of the schools for their services. from plato and aristotle down to the latest treatises on reconstruction, be it the "principles of reconstruction," as laid down by mr. bertrand russell, or the "elements of reconstruction," as reprinted from _the times_ with an introduction by lord milner, all alike come round to education as the keystone of the arch of politics. the final appeal is always to the schoolmaster, and it is perhaps less hopeful to appeal to the actual schoolmaster of to-day than to the possible schoolmaster of to-morrow. as are our schools, so will be our parliaments and our civil service, and some at any rate who have mapped out for themselves a career of political usefulness and honour in westminster, whitehall, or abroad, might bethink themselves first of banquo. "lesser than macbeth and greater: not so happy yet much happier; thou shalt get kings though thou be none." chapter vi the making of "politicians" "the way the authors wish to realise their ideal would, i fear, merely increase the output of politicians and political journalists, of whom an adequate supply already exists."--mr. e. b. osborn, in _the morning post_. sharp-wittedness playing on ignorance to the end of personal advancement--so dominant a feature has this become of our political life, that any protest against the misuse of a noble word, when men speak contemptuously of politics, is no doubt quite untimely. untimely, because it is too early, not because it is too late. we retain the word ourselves, and call the kind of education we advocate political education; appropriately it seems to us, for we believe that its wide adoption would remove the root cause which has made such a stigma possible, and free the very name of politics from the indignities it now justly suffers. nothing, indeed, could be wider of the mark than the notion that a system of political education would increase the number of self-seeking, power-hunting "politicians." such men are the product, not of political education, but of the lack of it. what is the present situation? to the ordinary boy, politics, when it first obtrudes itself on his attention, appears under one or other of two aspects. if he is clever, or is imagined to be so by ambitious parents, or again, if, though stupid, he happens to belong to a political family, the air begins to be thick with talk of his "going into" politics. he is to "go into" politics in the same way as men "go into" the stock exchange or the law; by virtue either of birth or brains he is to enter one of those little strongholds of his class, and earn his living there by playing the appropriate game. this is the guise under which politics appears to one type of boy. the other type, hears in some quarter or other a babble about income-tax and little navies and big loans; and either dismisses the whole thing as "absolute rot," which can have no possible meaning for him, or imbibes the ideas and prejudices of the people whose talk he is listening to, without in the least understanding their implications. from these two types is developed the great bulk of the population, considered under its political aspect. on the one side, politicians, whether clever or stupid; on the other, the electorate, ignorant and apathetic, or prejudiced and inflammable, as the case may be. there are, of course, other classes too. there is the man who has made money in business, and late in the day conceives the idea of entering parliament--which he sometimes succeeds in doing even when he has been unable to avoid making an election speech or two. there is the idealist who takes up political work with the sole object of doing useful service. there is the well-informed and open-minded student of public affairs. there is the intellectualist. but the great majority are as we have described them. the introduction of a far-reaching system of political education would have three results, each of which would reinforce the others in putting an end to the present state of affairs. make every one a politician, and "politicians" will become rare. politics will cease to be an essentially specialised profession; men will no longer "go into" it as into a thing apart. some will administer, guide, and direct; others will know and criticise. but every one will be politically active; and instead of the stronghold of politics in a desert of ignorance, there will be that interplay of political functions, distributed among the whole body of the people, which is the real meaning of democracy. and not only will politics cease to be a preserve, kept ready for spoliation by the clever, the pushing, the rich, and the well-born, but also the very desire in these men so to misuse their citizenship will cease altogether to come to birth. for political education, properly so called, awakens political idealism; it teaches principles, arouses aspirations after public service. the "politician" is a man who finds in political intrigue the fruitful source of his own advancement; one who catches at every breeze to further his personal ends. but if politics had formed the basis of his education; if, while his idealism was still untainted, he had been led to consider fundamental principles, and to examine public affairs in the light of them: then the potential goodness of his political nature would have been so fully realised, that no vain or mean thing would disfigure his maturity. "ah, but 'potential goodness' and 'while his idealism was still untainted'; there's the rub," we hear the cynic saying. such criticism moves us not at all. we had to do during the course of our experiment with a great number of boys of many different types; one can recall hardly a case in which, when vital thought had really been awakened, often after much sweat and agony, virtue was not found to be the fundamental characteristic of the boy's intellectual nature. but the teacher must not, of course, rest satisfied until he is certain that the goal in very truth has been reached; until he is sure that his pupil has thrown off the weight of carelessness, thoughtlessness, and prejudice, and that his mind is really awake and is in actual contact with ideas. finally, just as the leader and administrator will not desire to misuse his powers, so the education of the rest of the nation will deprive him of his opportunity. for it is only among a people politically uneducated that corruption and intrigue on a grand scale can exist. the unscrupulous creation and manipulation of public opinion; the concealment of low and mean designs under an appearance of nobility and disinterestedness; the putting forward of one argument in support of a policy, while a thousand are kept back which weaken or invalidate it; the appeal to prejudice and blind passion; the cunning use of suggestion; worst of all that pitiable game which consists of turning the people's noblest instincts--instincts of fellowship, solidarity, romance--to the basest ends; marks of degradation such as these would vanish gradually but surely as knowledge and power of criticism spread to every section of the community. such evil motives as still existed would be seen through and exposed; events would be regarded, not as isolated occurrences, but as a part of history, to be viewed in their relation to the whole and to be judged in accordance with a definite philosophy of life. so that if, here and there, a "politician" survived or made his reappearance in the clearer atmosphere, he would find his playthings gone; waiting instead for him would be men, citizens, politicians--ready to sweep him aside and gaily choose a better man. chapter vii public schools and freak schools the radical--and by the radical we mean any one who sees that life for the majority at the present time is not as fine and happy as it should be, and who is determined to leave no stone unturned to make it so--commonly looks askance at the public schools. he thinks of them, rightly, as the stronghold of those in possession, the class which, as a whole, not only opposes such fundamental reforms as would result in a fairer distribution of wealth, but also itself has failed to do what might conceivably justify its favoured position, to keep alive, by virtue of special opportunities such as would disappear in a society based on equality, the finest ideas of which the race is capable. individual and national power, privilege, commercialism--it is on these things that it has set its eyes in its leadership of the nation. and so our fellow-radicals have more than once said to us, "if you are really keen on education, why don't you start a school of your own?" now it is, no doubt, difficult for any one who has fallen under the sway of a public school, and who has been so caught up by its fascination as to feel for it a love more compelling than anything in his life, to be certain that personal predilections do not dictate a reply unjustified by intellectual considerations. yet for all that we give our answer without hesitation. for the multiplication of what may be conveniently, if somewhat unkindly, classed together as "freak" schools, breaks no fresh ground at all. boys who have been brought up in an "intellectualist" atmosphere, and those alone, are sent there; and even if there were no schools to which they could be sent, home influence would turn them out intellectualists still. the ranks of the intellectualists, in fact, are recruited from three main sources. first, there are the sons of intellectualists, sent either to a freak school or to no school at all; secondly, sons of intellectualists of a slightly different type, sent to a public school yet nevertheless retaining in the new environment their own peculiar stamp; and, thirdly, the clever sons of "ordinary" parents, sent to a public school and becoming intellectualists by revolt against the philistinism of it and of their homes. the community thus composed leads a life as distinct and separate from that of the rest of the nation as was ever lived by the "intelligentzia" in russia's darkest hour. it has hardly a point of contact with the average englishman; it does not understand his revues and musical comedies, his novels and cinemas, his hunting and race meetings; it speaks a different language, thinks altogether different thoughts. and being itself not in the least understood, it has acquired a certain hardness of mind, a certain contempt for ordinary people and ordinary things, which has widened the gulf, and led to mutual suspicion and sometimes even hatred. inevitably its mental health has been affected by such a situation. feeling itself different, it has consciously made itself as different as possible; intellectual extravagances indulged in from mere bravado, these and similar stigmata of balance lost and sanity impaired have made their appearance in varying degrees at one time or another. under a different set of circumstances--those of the war, for instance, so far as concerns a section of the group of which we are speaking--there has been a pitiful relapse into mere boredom, cynicism, and inactivity; remote from the passions of the crowd, and unable to give service to a cause in which they disbelieve, some of our cleverest men have provided an english parallel with the vodka-drinking, bridge-playing, and unutterably tired community of highly-developed intellects which tchekoff describes so brilliantly. now, in saying all this we would not have it thought that we are bringing a sweeping accusation against one section of the nation. for the fault lies, not mainly with them, but with the lack of culture, idealism, and genuine education which characterises england (and most other countries) to-day. in a country in which regard for things of the mind and spirit was the rule and not the exception, these men would form the backbone of the nation; they would develop along healthy lines, be marked by love and sympathy instead of contempt, use their great powers to the full in the public service. what they are to be blamed for is their failure to see their real duty; their failure to understand that it is among the philistines, and not in their own exclusive set, that their most important work lies. some of them, of course, do understand this, and spend their lives in an unselfish attempt to spread light in the darkness. but even so they commonly speak a language which is not understood; and inevitably they fail to achieve any widespread result. it is not, then, in the multiplication of schools designed to cater for intellectualists that we see the best hope for the progress of the nation. we see it rather in the creation of an army of missionaries from among the ordinary men themselves; missionaries of thought about the great problems of life and society, fashioned out of those who are of the people and understand and sympathise with their emotions. when once the average, revue-loving, thoughtless, "sporting" public school boy has been taught to think vigorously about politics and sociology; when once he has been so fired with enthusiasm for these things that he will teach and talk to others of his kind: then, at last, slowly and painfully no doubt, but none the less inevitably, will war, poverty, and materialism vanish altogether from a world not meant for them. that is why we have ventured to urge all those who both are idealists and love the public schools--but those alone--to break in on them and help to awaken the great sleeping instrument of salvation. and they will find good material awaiting them. the english public school boy shares with all the youth of all the nations an immense store of latent idealism, which can be brought to a splendid fruition if atrophy and decay are not allowed to overtake it. but he possesses other things also, over and above this common heritage. the intellectualist has often got beyond the big ideas, if such a paradox may be allowed; they have been for so long the platitudes of his caste, and he has grown so hopeless of their general acceptance, that he has turned to a search after subtle refinements and intellectual novelties, in the course of which much generous breadth of vision has been lost. again, many working-class reformers--can it be wondered?--not only bring to their task a bitterness against the world which has so misused them and their fellows, but also have inevitably been cut off from those gentle manners of life which have been gradually evolved by the more fortunate to express, however imperfectly, the feeling for grace and beauty which it should be our aim, not to crush, but to extend to all. but with the public school boy all is different. once he has begun to think in any real sense of the word, his intellectual life develops as joyfully and naturally as does the physical life of the beasts of the field. freshly and spontaneously, and with no trace of self-consciousness or affectation, he leaps to greet ideas and principles, between which and his own true nature there is a glorious bond of kinship. we have seen boy after boy, as he realises, for instance, the meaning of liberty, and gets his first glimpse of the wide country which such a realisation opens up, experiencing an emotion of happiness which we can only compare to the catch of breath with which men see great scenes of beauty, or hear of lovely deeds of generosity and heroism. given their chance, public school boys (not one or two, but great masses of average humanity) will rediscover for themselves the simple things which christ and plato taught; and once that is achieved a general advance all along the line toward the goal of a worthy human society may begin. chapter viii morality "generally speaking, the intellectualist phase [of a boy's career] is remarkably brief. just occasionally its morals are such as to cause the swift expulsion of its leaders. more often they leave in the natural course of things, or grow weary of their pose--which has, indeed, not made them popular--and return after the holidays frankly and unaffectedly philistine. this transient fashion is not new. what is new is the deliberate encouragement given to it by a certain type of assistant master. we do not imply that the wise master will suppress... that kind of intellectual measles will work itself out... but to leave the phase alone is one thing; deliberately to foster and give it official backing is quite another."--_the church times_. when the morality of the public schools is being discussed, attention is usually concentrated almost exclusively on that particular branch of morality which is concerned with sex. nor is this unnatural; for sex plays so important a part in the life of a growing boy, and the development of his character is so closely bound up with the development of his physical nature, that the determining part may be very easily confused with the whole. yet there are many boys who are sexually virtuous, but filled with the worst type of hardness and intolerance; many, too, who are sexually vicious, yet full of love and sympathy. to imagine that the problem of public school morality is solved as soon as we have discovered the best method of making public school boys continent, is to look at the matter from an altogether too narrow angle; for the sins of the spirit, we have been told, are more unpardonable than the sins of the flesh. nevertheless, when we have said this, as say it we must, the fact remains that the sex question is one of overwhelming importance. for if once self-indulgence is allowed to become firmly rooted in a boy's character, in the majority of cases it will be ineradicable; and he will either be the victim throughout a great part of his life of temptations which he loathes, and which will be a constant source of unhappiness to him, or he will end by acquiescing in a manner of life which is degrading, it may be to himself alone, it may be both to himself and others. it will be urged, of course, as it has been urged against every school novel which has attempted to give a true picture of the "manners" of a school house, that we are grotesquely exaggerating the whole business; that there may be a problem in the case of this boy or that, but that in general there is no problem at all. this simply will not do. there is a problem, and a very grave one; and we had better anticipate the possibility of being misunderstood by stating very directly what it is. we believe that the number of cases in which boys have undesirable relationships with one another is not very large, but we believe also that there is a very great deal of that purely personal self-indulgence, that purely self-regarding licentiousness, which is the cause of so much unhappiness in boyhood. but the reader will already be asking, "what is all this to do with political education?" the connection is a close one. for the prevalence of this particular form of immorality may be ascribed to two main causes. at some time during early adolescence the majority of boys automatically become acquainted with the sensation of sex, and, as part of a natural process, try to reproduce the pleasurable experience. but why do so many of these repeat and repeat the process, until the thing becomes a habit for which they can find no escape? partly because the verbal warning which is given to them by parents and masters is made in a wrong form, and partly because there is not that constant joy and romance in their daily lives in comparison with which temptation, when it comes, will appear sordid and unworthy. in the second place, there is an atmosphere in the houses of tolerance towards these practices, accompanied by constant discussion, sometimes open, sometimes secret, which encourages and not rarely actually suggests them. this is certainly true of many houses in many schools. the house prefects, it is true, usually try to suppress as much of the unhealthiness as they can; but since, on the one hand, they are often known to have been "as bad as any one" in their day, and on the other they use the method of pretending that these are things which no decent boy could possibly be guilty of, they meet at best with a very partial success, derived only from the fear which they inspire. the common method of dealing with the evil is a system of "talks" by masters and heads of houses. the "talks" follow a fairly stereotyped plan; they are either religious in nature, and contain references to "the temple of the body," or medical, and convey warnings of the physical consequences which will follow if excess is persisted in. sometimes the two types of address are dovetailed into a single whole. neither are wholly satisfactory. the medical variety sometimes terrifies a sensitive boy, who will imagine that his whole life is ruined and all his chance of future happiness wrecked. he will become somewhat morose, and not unfrequently will finally turn, in his despair, to the very thing against which he has been warned. on the other hand, and with another type of boy, it often fails equally disastrously, because, judged by the medical standards to which it appeals, it is proved by experience to be unsound. in his anxiety to create a strong impression the schoolmaster will sometimes make statements that are simply untrue. he will tell the boy that these practices will ruin his cricket or his football. no doubt it sometimes will; but it is more than likely that the boy knows several highly successful athletes who are, as the boy knows, though the master may not, complete adepts in schoolboy vice. then there is the old threat, possibly obsolete to-day, though one hesitates to say that anything is obsolete in the conservative world with which we deal--the old threat that half the inmates of the asylums of england have been brought there by this practice. that, again, is simply untrue, and if the boy happens to know it, the effect of such an untruth upon him may be very bad. equally unsuccessful, in the majority of cases, is the religious talk. the unspeculative, dogmatic type of school religion does not make an appeal to the ordinary boy sufficiently strong to override what he has found to be the most fascinating thing in his experience. it is too much a conventional decency imposed upon him from without, too little a force within him which he has been helped to develop, such as is alone powerful enough to contend with a desire itself arising spontaneously from within. and when the sermon is accompanied by exhortations to pray against temptation, it is sometimes not only useless, but (again in the case of the ordinary boy) positively harmful. for to get into the habit of praying against temptation means to get into the habit of thinking about it, to become self-conscious, and to succumb. not but that there are some quite young boys who feel christ's nearness to them as friend and helper so vividly that they can gain real strength from praying to him. but we are talking of the average boy; and the average boy is not of this type. conversations between master and boy on the subject are, of course, quite necessary and often very helpful. very often a boy is mystified, or it may be terrified, by what seems to him some peculiarity in his nature, and it may do him all the good in the world to unburden his soul to some one older and more experienced than himself. it is best, too, that the house master should be the man to whom such a boy naturally turns; though if the boy should prefer to turn elsewhere, the fact should be to the house master food for thought rather than for anger. indeed, while in one way there is far too much talk on this subject, in another there is far too little. too much may easily be made of conventional "talks" on conventional occasions. what is rather wanted is a relationship between boy and master, created by frank intercourse on other topics, such as will naturally bring the boy to the master for help in these difficulties, with the sure knowledge that the latter will not "lecture" him, but will speak as one who has been through similar difficulties in his own boyhood, and is anxious only to help and to explain. under the present system, when the verbal appeal fails, recourse is often had to corporal punishment. we have no room here for a discussion of the ethics of punishment; but a method more foolish could scarcely be devised, if the aim is to enable the boy to overcome temptation. and of all forms of punishment, corporal punishment is the worst. the physical side of the boy's nature is asserting itself in all its strength; and you attempt to combat it by making a physical appeal which must from the nature of the case be far less powerful and compelling. moreover, any one with even a slight knowledge of sexual psychology (and it is curious how few schoolmasters take the trouble to acquire such knowledge) is aware that given a certain temperament on the part whether of the giver or the receiver, perils lurk in this form of punishment of the very type which it is designed to meet. but the only sound way of combating the over-development of one side of a boy's nature is to develop the other. make a boy's whole life one of joy and interest; let him live with a constant sense of the beauty of grass and sky, of the exultation of vital work, of the happiness of love and friendship. as the days go by, let him feel his latent powers developing, and glory in the thought that they have been given him for his own joy and that of humanity. then when temptation comes to him, and he remembers how its indulgence has left him slack and bored, it will seem to him like a candle-flame in the sun of his happiness, a wretched little mean and unworthy thing breaking in on and threatening to ruin the peace and harmony of his life. and so he will not give it a second thought, and soon all danger will be over. this may seem preposterously difficult. it is: but it is also the only way. the master cannot do it for the boy, but he can perhaps give the boys some help towards doing it for themselves. what we want is that every house should become a small community of boys carrying on together absorbingly interesting and romantic activities--a kind of club in which they may forgather and undertake in common the intellectual and spiritual adventure which thus become a part of their individual daily lives. in this way there will be none of that boredom, that feeling of "having nothing on earth to do or think about," the presence of which is the chief cause impelling a boy to turn to the one thing which at least can provide him at any moment with a temporary excitement. rather will his whole nature develop harmoniously, and sex, about which we have become too self-conscious, take its proper place as the (normally) unconscious inspirer of many of our most vital activities and happiest emotions. and once morbidity has been put away, and with it the constant preoccupation of boys and masters with this one topic, and all that suspicion and suggestiveness which we know so well, then the graver problem which has to do with the relationship of boy to boy will be found to have been solved at the same time. no one who knows a public school is likely to deny that sexual emotion is nearly always an element in the intensest schoolboy friendships; but that makes them neither the less lovely nor the less desirable. indeed, the value of such friendships at their finest cannot be overestimated. for when a boy "falls in love," he learns for the first time something of the real splendour of living: he comes into his birthright of beauty and ecstacy, and understands how the greatest happiness is to be found in doing everything for the service of another. there is something very loathsome about the spying, and secretiveness, the jokes and unclean hintings which, in the majority of schools, make such a friendship appear a thing to be ashamed rather than proud of, and often in the end actually render it shameful. given a clean atmosphere, an absence of suspicion on the part of masters and of morbidity on that of boys, and we believe that very rarely would physical acts result from schoolboy love. but the reader will be asking, for the second time, "what is all this to do with political education?" and again we answer--everything. for we believe that the joy in life, and the intellectual interest of which we have spoken can be awakened from where they lie dormant in a boy's nature by political education. the subject is the boy's own destiny as a member of human society and a part of the universe (for it will be remembered that we include ethics and philosophy with history and politics under the one broad heading); and there is hardly a boy who does not find, at best in all these subjects, at worst in one of them, the inspiration to vital work and the sense of living well, which goes with it. the boys start reading, widely; a thousand topics occupy their attention; poetry, plays, novels--all these are reached from the one starting point. then clubs and groups of various kinds are started in their houses; and the sex problem has become as much as it ever can become, a thing of the past. nor, we may add, are we merely theorising, and talking of hypothetical goods which might conceivably follow from the adoption of our plan. all that we have written of is within our own experience. time after time while we were making our experiments did we come across cases of boys whose moral health had been saved by their new-found interest. one had turned to physical excitement as the only possible relief from the tedium of latin grammar; after a year under the altered circumstances he turned to it no longer. the parents of another (a boy of about sixteen) had attempted to base his morality solely on christian dogma, which meant nothing to him; and the result was disastrous. but a course of lectures on plato's philosophy gave him what religion had previously failed to give him--a belief in an ideal and the distinction between right and wrong, and a determination to do always what seemed to him the absolute best.[ ] but by far the most remarkable results were achieved in the house of which we have already spoken in chapter i. during his first fortnight of office, the new head boy followed the old method; he examined all suspicious cases, discovered some that he had not suspected, and dealt out the traditional treatment. then he followed the old method no longer; nor did he ever return to it from that day till the day when he finally left the school before his time. instead, he set about interesting the boys in politics. we have already described the course of his experiments; how enthusiasm, kindled over newspapers, spread to plays, to poetry, to pictures, and to music. and the result? the house was transformed: it became such a place as every mother hopes the house where her own son is may be. and yet during the whole time of which we are speaking only one boy was beaten, and he for an act quite unrelated to the seventh or indeed to any other of the ten commandments. note.--a fortnight after the writing of the present book was projected, one of the writers was dispatched on military duty to india, and the above chapter was sent home from "somewhere" in "somewhere"--i believe taranto. close co-operation in authorship became impossible, and upon his collaborator in england devolved the responsibility of sole editorship. i leave the above chapter almost as it was written, for there is about it, as it seems to me, an indomitable optimism which was a characteristic of the writer's work and a cause of its success. still, in so far as it suggests that a complete solution has been found for a problem i believe to be insoluble, i must in honesty add a few words on my own account. our direct experience, or the more remarkable part of it, amounts to this: that a certain head of a house achieved during the course of a year, using the methods described, an uplifting of the whole tone of his house that can only be described as marvellous. other heads elsewhere have no doubt achieved similar results by other means, though we have never come across an example equally remarkable. the goal can be reached, presumably, by the road of saintliness. it might be reached, though it is doubtful, by the road of puritanism and "efficiency," the appeal to abstinence and "living hard." it cannot be reached, that is certain, by merely disciplinary methods and the appeal to fear, for the commonest form of schoolboy vice is such that, even allowing for the casualness of boys, it will not be detected once in a hundred cases. something, however, must be discounted from this result, by reason of the fact that the experiments were new. these boys had an enthusiasm bred of the fact that they rightly felt themselves to be pioneers. they felt themselves to be making history, certainly for the first, possibly for the last, time in their lives, and whether you admire them or whether you laugh at them, making history they were, so far as their own world was concerned. it seems doubtful whether the spiritual force engendered would have lasted at full strength when the thing had become normal, and it was no longer possible to start the hare of some new "stunt" (as they called it, i am sorry to say) once every two or three weeks. the experiment was cut short in its prime, and how it would have developed when the first generation of enthusiasts had passed away, one cannot say. as for the other houses, something had been begun in two or three, but nothing of much value had been achieved. the minorities hesitated between a desire to imitate and a desire to be quite original, and the majorities looked a trifle askance upon the whole affair. and the masters came in here and put every sort of difficulty in the way, for by this time the collapse was visibly approaching. none the less, the lines on which this strange and temporary achievement was based are the only lines along which the moral problem can be grappled with. a perfectly "pure" public school is as impossible as a perfectly satisfactory marriage law. a few incorrigibly bad boys there will always be--incorrigible, that is, when they have reached public school age. hopelessly inanimate and feeble boys there will be also, doomed to become the victims of the bad. but the present moral average might be immensely raised, and the plain way to raise it is to provide other adventures for the soul. a boy once said to me, speaking of the matter in hand, "you see, it's the only thing i've ever found to do here really 'on my own.'" it was, in fact, his one adventure. no amount of class-room tasks, however well devised, no amount of organised games, however healthy, no amount of school religion, however sincere, could fill that gap. we must put the boys on the lines to organise their own adventures, and the only adventures that can compete with this absorbing adventure of misapplied sexuality, must be adventures that really lead up to the highest and best things of life. it was only when he found an empire to save that clive ceased to be a young ruffian. nothing lower than "politics" will suffice. [ ] not that we believe that plato is a greater teacher than christ. our opinion is the opposite; but we are also of shelley's opinion when he said, "i would rather go to hell with plato than to heaven with paley." much that is called christian is not of christ. also there are no doubt minds so constituted that they will get more good in certain circumstances from the lesser teacher. chapter ix religion "it may be a slight shock to some people to hear that 'divinity' should grapple with capitalism and imperialism."--_manchester guardian_. "politics, in the large sense, is one of the main gateways to the understanding of fellowship, and of that which lies beyond fellowship, and leads boys to express something further-reaching than the thought of the dear city of cecrops."--mr. kenneth richmond in _the new age_. this chapter will be as short as its subject-matter is important. indeed, the problem of religion as it presents itself in a public school is so interesting and so difficult that one might well apologise for relegating it to a late chapter in a brief book upon an apparently quite alien subject. but we have set out to recount our experience of political education; and in our experience we found that politics and religion lay not so very far apart. without any very direct suggestion from us, several of our pupils to whom the kingdom of heaven had been hitherto a somewhat uninteresting abstraction found that they could not think out to their satisfaction the problems of the city of cecrops until they had formulated their ideas upon the city of god. the history of _the school observer_ illustrates this well enough. that journal showed a distinct tendency to become a religious organ. at the time of its suppression the embarrassed editor was confronted with three long articles--the longest, it must be confessed, his own--all of them bearing upon the nature of the deity, and, lest we should be misunderstood, all of them broadly christian in character. now, a certain type of clerical head master has often tried to impress upon his boys--he would try it on his staff also did he not know that it would be waste of time and energy--that the two hours devoted to "divinity" are the two most important school hours of the week. and he is quite right: they are the most important, or, rather, but for opportunities missed, they would be. for a liberal education without a foundation in religion is not merely defective, it is impossible. if the religious foundation offered by the teacher proves no foundation, proves a mere meaningless excrescence upon the time-table, then a religion will be sought and found elsewhere, even though it be, as is most likely, a religion such as is generally classed as no-religion, mere worship, as ruskin called it, of britannia agoraia, britannia of the market place, the goddess of getting-on. that, it is to be feared, is very much what we have at present, for the religion of the divinity lesson is usually nothing at all, and the religion of the school chapel has hardly got beyond the tribal stage, and does not suffice for the modern man in his maturity, nor for most types of thoughtful schoolboy. there are some old boys, perhaps many, who have a strong sentimental regard for "the old chapel"; but it is as a venerable symbol of the corporate life of their boyhood that they regard it, not as a place of divine worship. the religion they carry away from the school chapel has very little connection with the message of the gospel they heard there: it is a religion not of jesus christ, but of alma mater. their attitude to it is not strictly religious at all, but romantic. it is easy to write with a certain irony on this subject, but that is the last thing we want to do, for the problem of the public schools is here, as elsewhere, a profoundly difficult one, and many good men have devoted the best of their life's energies to it, and have achieved here and there a fine measure of success. but their success has been personal and exceptional. the rule is what we have just described. indeed, the problem of the schools is but a single aspect of the problem of the church and the world at large. two years ago the national mission came, proclaiming that the church had been a failure, and so much has recently been written on these lines by the leaders of the churches themselves that it is unnecessary for us to enlarge upon the well-worn theme. nominally the schools are "church" schools. "chapels" are as compulsory as football, and all boys, with a very few marked and conscious exceptions, are confirmed and expected to become communicants. but in actual fact, many of them come from homes where connection with the church is purely nominal, even if it exists at all. thus a dangerous element of formalism and make-believe is introduced from the start. the masters again;--fifty years ago they were parsons almost without exception--stern, godly, whiskered individuals--singularly unlike, as it would seem, to our colleagues or ourselves. the masters of to-day are nearly all laymen, and laymen with as wide a variety of religious opinions as the members of the stock exchange; but--and this is where they differ from the members of the stock exchange--they will all be, during term time, formal members of the church of england. once again, formalism and make-believe. yet what would you have? the schools are the schools of the nation, not of a sect; and to-day the church of england is, within the nation, but a sect. and even supposing the schools were, or could be, genuinely church of england schools, another problem would remain, for within the church itself there is a wide variety of opinions, and beliefs without which christianity is impossible to one will be mere blasphemy to another. it has been said with some truth that our religious ideas have undergone as great a revolution in the last hundred years as our knowledge of machinery, and that the sermons of are as obsolete as its stage coaches. for the author of this notion--and he is a clergyman--this may be true; but whereas none of his congregation travel in stage coaches, it is very likely that the theology of some of them is nearer to that of the sermons of than to his own. now, it is obvious that our experience of political education does not provide a way out of all these difficulties; but it seems to us to throw a certain glimmering of light upon them. several of our boys who, in spite of schoolroom "divinity" and the school chapel, had more or less outgrown the religious faith of their childhood, and found nothing satisfactory to take its place, were led back towards religion by their interest in politics. in fine, they had discovered the intellectual need for a religion, and liberalism pointed the way to christianity. as in the middle ages, philosophy had been the "ancilla fidei." the suggestion is that the fault of our religious teaching in school and chapel has been that it is not sufficiently philosophical. by a philosophical religion it need hardly be said that we do not mean the obtrusion of a remote and contentious theology, but a religion based upon a real understanding of political principles and crying social needs. "it may be a slight shock to some people to hear that 'divinity' should grapple with capitalism and imperialism," says the _manchester guardian_ reviewer. it may: none the less we believe that it is with such problems that christianity has to grapple if there is ever to be a christian society upon earth. the last thing we wish to suggest is the off-hand conclusion that capitalism and imperialism are in all their manifestations anti-christian. the world is not so simple a place. but we cannot go on applying one set of principles to our private lives and another set of principles to our politics and industry. man is not so illogical a creature as that. there is bound to be, finally, either a levelling up or a levelling down towards a single uniform standard. no proverb is more dangerous than "charity begins at home." when it begins in the place most congenial to its exercise, it is apt to end there. lord melbourne is said to have complained, after hearing a sermon, "things are coming to a pretty pass, when religion claims to interfere with a man's private life." we smile at lord melbourne's honest indignation. our turn come to be indignant when the sermon applies the christian "paradoxes" to industry, commerce, and international relations. and it is along these lines that religious teaching can be made absorbingly interesting. it all comes round to the old question, "are we going to apply christianity to the problems of modern society or are we not?" the case against doing so can be found every day in the press, so here, at any rate, is an issue worth facing, with a presumably infallible authority to support each side. the direction of most religious teaching hitherto has been too purely personal; the exhortation is too obvious and the appeal falls flat. politics without religion lacks foundation; but religion without politics lacks quite half its content. christianity is the leaven, but so also is politics the lump. along these lines, we believe, one might get in the middle and lower parts of the school results analogous to those we have described in the cases of some sixth form boys. the present writer used to teach divinity to a middle form on the modern side, and whenever a gospel happened to be scheduled, he found ample material to his hand. it is surprising how little, for all the sermons they have heard, most boys of sixteen have faced the ideas expressed in the most hackneyed texts. "it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle...." "love your enemies." "take no thought for the morrow." a most mischievous half-truth has got about that these sayings are not to be taken literally. boys have told me that a "rich man" means one who has grown rich by robbery. well, what is robbery? "la propriété, c'est le vol"? "love your enemies" means, i have been told, "have no enemies: lead a peaceable life; but if..." there was a case apparently not provided for. "take no thought for the morrow." on this i once got the delightfully honest comment, "christ must have said this to cheer the disciples when they were depressed. taken literally it would be absurd." with such candour on the pupils' side, surely the teacher's task is not hopeless. here at last we have the atmosphere of honest controversy, and without controversy there is no freedom of thought; without freedom of thought no conviction; without conviction, no education and no religion. chapter x curriculum it is always difficult to define the limits of a topic. this book is concerned with one educational subject alone, politics in the very broad sense we here attach to the term. our contention is that that subject is of paramount importance, and that it should provide the basis and foundation of liberal education. with that idea in view, we have given some account of our own experience; we have also considered what seemed the most reasonable and weighty objections; we have also shown how politics reacted, in our experience, upon morality and religion. and then it might seem well to make an end. but an education is, or should be, a single whole, and the entire omission of certain aspects lends itself to misunderstanding. our previous book suggested to one reader, at least, that we regarded subjects other than those we treated of, as possessing no educational value other than a purely utilitarian one. that was not at all the impression we wished to create, and it is with a view to correcting it that we attempt a brief general survey of the non-political subjects and their place in a curriculum which took politics as its centre. but we offer these remarks with much diffidence. if this book and its predecessor have any value, it is due to the fact that they are based on direct and vivid teaching experience; and here for the most part the guidance of experience deserts us. one very natural criticism of our thesis is that politics, though it may stimulate interest, cannot provide intellectual discipline. the criticism is natural because, so long as the english subjects are regarded as a subsidiary matter, they are and will be treated by masters and boys in an easy going manner. other and sterner subjects are reckoned on to supply the disciplinary factor which the english subjects lack. there is, in fact, a very prevalent idea that interest and discipline vary inversely to one another; that discipline is to be found in doing what is uninteresting; and that interest is to be found in doing what is "slack." this is very bad psychology. for we aim at training willing servants, fit to become masters, not slaves fit for nothing but slavery. the only valuable discipline is self-discipline, and self-discipline will only be reached when the boy has realised for himself that the work is intrinsically worth doing, and when he has realised that he will have become interested. again, what is interesting must be absorbing, and such work can never be "slack." the mistake seems to arise from a confusion of ideas in connection with the word "easy." it is no more "easy" to write an adequate essay on the subject of national guilds than it is to learn the principal parts of a large number of irregular verbs: possibly it is much more difficult. but under certain conditions which we have seen produced, a boy will find it "easy" to gird himself up to the former task; indeed, he will get so absorbed that he will find it difficult to leave off. few questions are less "easy" than those connected with a paper-money currency, but one half-holiday afternoon we found a vigorous discussion on this subject in progress between a group of cricketers whom rain had driven to the pavilion. ordinary history teaching, if only time is allowed and certificate examinations do hot threaten, affords scope for a great variety of exercises demanding careful thought and accurate knowledge. so much in answer to the suggestion that only through the non-political subjects can real hard work be secured. the non-political subjects fall into three groups--languages, mathematics, and the natural sciences. probably no one regards the teaching of foreign languages in the public schools as at all satisfactory at present, and the chief reason is that far too much is attempted, with far too little consideration of what will be achieved. most boys are either simultaneously learning, or have at one time simultaneously tried to learn, three foreign languages, latin, greek, and french, or latin, french, and german. the burden is too heavy for them to bear. only the minority have any real gift for foreign languages, and for the rest the aim should be one foreign language only. little will be accomplished in any subject unless there is a real ambition to learn, and there can be no such ambition unless a definite goal is in sight. the goal here is real knowledge in a foreign language, for half or quarter-knowledge of a foreign language is a most unsatisfying accomplishment. the obvious language is french. even so, many will not learn to write it correctly, and as for speaking it, that is an accomplishment so much more conveniently acquired elsewhere that we offer no opinion as to how far it is worth attempting at school.[ ] but fluent reading of french is a thing within the reach of practically any boy, and even the stupid boy, if he concentrates upon this, to the exclusion of other and more difficult linguistic tasks, will make such unmistakable progress that his ambitions may well be roused. and the accomplishment is one that can quickly be made useful. for instance, probably the best general history of europe is still guizot's book, and its french is about the easiest ever written. but we would go further. we remember once a boy being birched for circulating a copy of _la vie parisienne_. does not this suggest that every house should take a french daily newspaper, and also an illustrated weekly, other than that above mentioned? but while advocating the single language for the ordinary boy, we are pulled up short by the claims of latin; and here we feel a difficulty. a good deal of what is said in favour of latin we regard as pure superstition. it is not true that boys can only learn to write their own language correctly by means of latin prose. nor is it true that latin prose supplies the ideal mental discipline. that is only true for the minority of boys who reach the stage at which real latin prose is written. most flounder about all their time in the stage of artificial latin prose, wherein is nothing more than the meticulous application of a set of laboriously acquired grammatical rules--a tolerable training in conscientious application, such as any subject can supply, but nothing more. yet it may well be true--on this point we feel uncertain--that an elementary knowledge of latin supplies such a foundation for the understanding both of english and french, that it is worth making some sacrifices to retain it. if that be so, we would start every boy on latin as his first foreign language. those who showed little ability would abandon it at about the time they began french. in the case of boys with some real linguistic ability, we are happy to find ourselves thoroughly conservative. we believe firmly in the grand old fortifying classical curriculum, provided it is understood that the languages themselves are but means to an end, to the understanding of the classical civilisation. in fine, the goal of classics should be to-day, as it was for the renaissance scholars, ultimately political. the classical student who, at the time when his schooling ends, is still doing no more than "settling hoti's business" and "properly basing oun," is in the position of browning's "grammarian," with this vital difference that he probably does not intend to employ his future life in building any superstructure upon the foundations thus laboriously laid. in mathematics there is probably a deeper cleavage than in any other subject between the real thing, as mathematicians understand it, and the elementary knowledge within the reach of all. "the real thing" is perhaps the most remote and specialised of all branches of learning. for a few it is the best, indeed, the only natural, line of development; but these are few and easily recognised, and even they should not be allowed to specialise too narrowly--that is a point which no one who is not a mathematician will dispute. at the other end of the scale comes the third of the three r's; and about that again there is no controversy, except as to the best methods of teaching it.[ ] yet the schools do not recognise sufficiently clearly this line of cleavage, and many boys who are presumed to have reached the end of the elementary stage remain for some time battering in vain at the doors of the inner temple. these should go back once over the elements again to see if they know them, and then give it up for good. this will mean a cheerful exodus from the upper-middle mathematical divisions. we confess to sympathy with the conservative-radical head master who said, "i shall not advocate the abolition of compulsory greek in university examinations until i can get people to agree to the abolition of compulsory algebra." there is perhaps a middle term between elementary and "real" mathematics; that is the mathematics that is the handmaid of physics, and leads us on to the natural sciences. to-day the claims of natural science are very insistent, and they come from more than one quarter. from one quarter comes the claim that science alone of the subjects in the time-table "means business," and makes money, and that in these strenuous times other subjects that lead to mere elegant accomplishments must crowd into a narrow space to make room for the one subject that makes for sheer efficiency. the point is often put with a certain crudity; but we may as well ignore that, and recognise that the just claims of commercial training will have to be met by the schools more fully than heretofore. only let us recognise commercial training for what it is, and not pretend that it can ever offer a substitute for the liberal education which must continue alongside of it. but the teacher of science will more often take quite other ground, and will claim that his subject, over and above its commercial usefulness, provides most of the ingredients of a liberal education in itself. he will point to the training it offers in habits of conscientious accuracy, its exemplification of the laws of cause and effect, its undeviating respect for truth, and the inspiration of its endless progress, built up on the heroic researches of the great pioneers. this claim demands careful and sympathetic scrutiny. to begin with criticism, we are quite unconvinced that science alone can train the mind to logical methods, or imbue it with a respect for truth in matters outside the scientific sphere. "science," as the term is commonly understood, deals with material things, and, as such, it gives but little support to the mind when confronted with the problems of humanity, whether personal or political. it is only too common for the science specialist to respect cause and effect in a test-tube and despise it in a newspaper. in science no passions are evoked in favour of one solution or another. the search for truth may well be disinterested, since it is, humanly speaking, uninterested. a liberal education must train the mind to master prejudice and self-interest, and this training cannot be given in a material where prejudice and self-interest will not come into play. as regards ordinary laboratory work, and lectures on laboratory detail, of which science teaching at present, as many science masters agree, far too exclusively consists, our view is similar to our view on mathematics. it is often instructive, both for boy and master, to get the boys to draw up an ideal time-table. the results, as a rule, are disappointingly conventional, it is true. few boys have ever criticised their education, except in a purely destructive and cynical spirit, and when confronted with the constructive task, produce something not very far removed from the time-table they follow out every week. but as regards science, it will often be found that the form falls into two clearly marked divisions. one part cut it down to a minimum, and would, if they had the courage of their convictions, cut it out altogether; the other part give it half, or more than half, the time-table. this probably marks the fact that for many boys a very small amount of laboratory experience, just enough to give them a notion of method, is all that they will benefit by. for the rest the training has real value and interest; but these are a minority. but there is another aspect of science, receiving as yet far too little attention at school, which seems to us an essential part of a liberal education. indeed, when our own sixth form time-table was remodelled, we put in a claim for a weekly lecture on general principles of science, alongside with modern history and political science and economics. the general principles of natural law, evolution and heredity, the nature and cure of disease, the atomic theory of matter, general principles of astronomy--these things seem to us second only in importance to the great principles of politics themselves. here is an extraordinary record of patient achievement, some contact with which is in itself an inspiration not merely intellectual, but moral. for it seems to us hardly fanciful to suggest that such knowledge should react--so subtle are the reactions of the boy-mind, as we have already tried to show--most favourably on the political spirit. dr. gregory, in his enthusiastic work in praise of his subject, "discovery: or the spirit and service of science," writes: "in the discussion of political questions, prejudice and party determine the view taken, and facts are selected and exploited not so much with the object of arriving at the truth as to confound the other side.... a politician may place party above truth, and a diplomatist will conceal it on behalf of his country, but it is the duty of the man of science to attain truth at all costs. in direct opposition to the narrowness of thought which views all subjects through the distorting mirage of party prejudice, stands the absolute freedom of mind of the man of science who stands with open arms to welcome truth...." and dr. gregory's moral would seem to be: eschew politics and devote yourself to science. as if the world could exist without politics! as if the happy alternative to bad politicians were no politicians! the right moral surely is that which we have been drawing, with possibly wearisome repetition, throughout this book; that all that is best in the scientific mind, all that is best in the literary and artistic mind, all that is best in the religious mind, must be brought to bear upon the problems of our corporate life. [ ] we offer no opinion, also, on the "oral method" of teaching both modern and classical tongues, as we have no experience at all to guide us. [ ] surely, too, the third of the three r's should include a knowledge of book-keeping, balance sheets, etc. here we join hands heartily with the "utilitarian" school of educational reformers. we also wish that every one learnt shorthand almost as soon as he had learnt longhand. chapter xi the young generation and the old "there, it is to be feared, they will find the parents most in their way. the normal father may endure his son being taught poetry, but he will object to the instilling of opinion other than his own."--_outlook_. "fancy some imp of fifteen or sixteen assailing the author of his being, a court-worn barrister or 'rattled' stockbroker, at his evening meal: 'father, i think lord bryce's bill for the reform of the house of lords radically unsound,' or suddenly asking his mother, who, good, easy woman, is revolving in her mind the merits of a coat and skirt she has seen that afternoon at debenham's: 'mother, what is your opinion of the trading with the enemy bill?'"--_saturday review_. "youth is asking questions as never before--asking awkward, burning questions, which put its seniors in a flutter. the seniors, under question, discover that they have no body of doctrine, and have never till now dreamt of the need of any. if they are wise, they will put away the taboo on politics and sit down with their juniors to hammer these things out, and perchance clear their own minds in the process."--_westminster gazette_. by way of epilogue--an appeal to the parents. what is it that the parents want from the schools? the question is all-important; for by the spiritual law of demand and supply, what they want they will get. it has been said that every nation has the government it deserves. so it is with the press, and so it is with the schools: we get what we want, and what we want is what we deserve. what do we want? there are some parents who take the public schools quite seriously as places of professional training, places where their sons will be taught to earn their livings, and they are encouraged in this notion by the fact that several professional bodies insist on successful candidature in some pass examination in school subjects as a first step towards entrance into the profession, and thereby rivet these examinations upon the schools. the result is not altogether bad. the examinations make for a deplorable ossification of the curriculum; but they also set a certain low standard, and drive a certain type of boy and master to work, and, though the type of work is not very exalted, it is better than nothing at all. on the individual boy the effect will be various. "look here," says the house master, "there's london matric. at the end of next term. hadn't you better give up all this foolery with politics and do a little real work?" the advice was taken, and perhaps we are not sufficiently impartial to offer a valuable opinion on the result. however, the boy was no fool, and the first part of the advice need never have been given. except in the case of boys, far too numerous, who are taking examinations that ought never to have been imposed on them, "modern aiders" and the like who are mugging up "prepared books" of virgil and euripides, work for a pass examination ought not to mean the cessation of all other intellectual activity. there is another much more old-fashioned type of parent who stands for everything that is traditional, who is seriously disturbed if his boy wanders far afield from the old classical curriculum, who regards all new subjects as foolish fads. it is this parent, helped by an old-fashioned type of house master, who retains in a mild torture of boredom the boys who linger wasting their time in the lower reaches of the classical side. but anything is better than nothing, and the attitude of many more parents is purely cynical. they just leave it to the schoolmaster. "cynical" might seem a hard word with which to repay this compliment of trust; but it is not, for there is really no compliment and no trust. the parent does not really believe in the school-master's judgment. he believes in him so little that he thinks it simply does not matter what happens in the class-room, provided the boy seems to enjoy himself--how many parents really _know_ whether their boys do enjoy themselves at school?--and provided the house master is not actively complaining. now, there is only one hope, and that is that the parents should come to look at this matter of their son's education politically. school-time is a training, and we are all familiar enough with the idea of training now. before the war, as since, schools had their o.t.c.'s. but these o.t.c.'s were wretched perfunctory affairs, boring everybody, because we hardly any of us seriously envisaged them as a training, only as an incubus. now, we all see them as training for a part that has got to be played, and the whole spirit is different. but the country will soon be calling upon our public school boys to play another and perhaps even more difficult part, and where is the training for that? when the war is won we shall plunge into another maelstrom; and it will all be politics, politics, politics. the leaders of labour have roughly charted their course; they mean to make a new world for the masses whether we like it or not, and they mean in the main right. but what part are the public school men going to play? it is an extremely difficult position, and the difficulties crop up not only in the details, of which only mature experience can give a knowledge, but in the elementary principles regulating our outlook, our attitude. and that is where the public schools could come in with irresistible effect if only they would brace themselves to the task. "your king and country need you," said the old recruiting poster of . "good god! have they never wanted me till now?" was the natural rejoinder. in any case they will not cease to want the public school boy when the war is over. in this task the parents must co-operate. the normal father, we are told, will object if his son brings home opinions other than his own. but, in sober truth, if the son brings home the same opinions as the fathers have always held, we are in a poor way. it was the fathers and the grandfathers who brought the world to its present pass. it is the sons who, starting with new principles from new beginnings, have got to set it on a better road. the _saturday review_ and _the westminster gazette_ offer us, in the quotations at the head of this chapter two little vignettes of parentage. which would you have? the holidays occupy rather more than a quarter, and rather less than a third of the year. if you asked what the boys do in the holidays, you would ask a question that puzzles many boys themselves to answer. the waste of school holidays is even more striking than the waste of school terms. for education should not be, indeed, cannot be, limited to term time. the proportion of boys who require "rest" in the holidays, even for the first week or two, is small. a slack time, prolonged beyond a week or so, bores most boys consumedly and ought to bore them all. we are not thinking here of the favoured few who get their fill of fishing and field sports. such things have their limitations, perhaps, but they offer at least a time of activity, resourcefulness, and keen enjoyment. most boys, however, live in quiet homes in towns, far from the opportunity for such things, and how these pass the time is a mystery even to themselves, as many have confessed to us. in plain words, they _kill_ the time, and thereby acquire a most dangerous accomplishment. some few, it is true, make themselves endlessly useful to their parents, and nothing could be better. but only a few homes provide scope for an "odd-jobs man" of this type. for the bulk, holidays are simply times of unemployment. now, when a schoolmaster ventures to offer advice about the holidays, he might seem to be stepping presumptuously outside his own province; but that plea for reticence is one we cannot admit. term and holidays alike are an education, and they interact upon one another so closely that the schoolmaster not only may, but must, form his judgment upon both. it is not for us to compile a detailed "parent's assistant." heaven forbid! every home has its own problems and its own opportunities, but surely there is no home in which the parents have not a range of activities, professional, commercial, political, or literary. so often, as it seems, from various motives, good and bad, the boy remains more or less excluded from these long after he has become capable of a certain partnership in his parents' interests. the drawback of life at a public school is that it is highly artificial. call it as you please a barrack or a monastery, a boarding-school is something cut off from the main streams of ordinary life. in the holidays the boy renews contact with ordinary life, and that periodic renewal is an essential part of his education. but surely his holidays should bring him into contact with some more of life than its superficial frivolities. the kind of holidays we have in mind would make some call on the time and energy of the parents; and perhaps it will be said that the time and energy simply cannot be spared. well, there was a time, fifteen years or so before, when these same parents gave ungrudgingly any amount of time and energy to the task of watching over the development of the little child now rapidly approaching manhood. but the boy of seventeen, though much more difficult to understand, is every bit as fascinating as the child of two, and the parents' time and energy devoted to the boy will be as certainly well spent. and it will, we believe, bring a new happiness to many parents themselves. as school-masters, our widest experience of parents--not that we pretend it is very wide--is our experience of boys' talk about their homes. boys speak of their parents with deep affection and respect, as a rule; but so very often they leave an impression that they do not really know them. it is the commonest thing in the world for fathers and sons, without any positive estrangement, to get entirely out of touch with one another during the latter part of a boy's school-time. the boy develops rapidly, and the greater part of his development is quite concealed from the father. he returns home to find his father "just the same," and apparently quite unable to divine the new developments which the son is too proud to reveal uninvited. or maybe he does attempt to reveal them, and, bungling his task, finds himself misunderstood, and lays the blame on the father. so often, as it seems, the father might have helped matters by playing a rather more active part, and going half, or even three-quarters, of the way to meet his son's confidences. but there is a natural shyness of fathers towards their sons at this stage, and shyness on one side begets shyness and misunderstanding on the other. more than once a boy has said to one of us, "what am i to do to get into touch with my father? last holidays we found we'd nothing sensible to talk to each other about at all." it is difficult to advise, but the most obvious thing to say is, presumably, to remind the boy that his father is but a human being like himself; that possibly the boy is himself rather unnecessarily enigmatic, and that instead of expecting the father to make all the moves, the son might himself hold out a hand and help the father to understand the changes that had taken place within him. that is how the matter stands on the boy's side, and it may help some fathers to know it. one of our boys, we remember, wanted to discover something at first hand of the real interests of employees in his father's firm. whatever he discovered, it made an excellent holiday interest for him. among other things, he attended some w.e.a. lectures, because he found that the more intelligent men were interested by them. this was a boy of rather unusual initiative; but we believe there are many boys who would find a genuine interest in such matters, if the fathers gave them the lead. thus the wretched tradition that the holidays are for unemployment would be gradually broken down, and games would take their proper place--in holidays and term alike. perhaps, too, the father on looking back might find that there had been some "education" in it for himself also. the principle from which we started was that the public schools were full of glorious possibilities, to-day largely unrealised. is not the same true of many homes? appendix "it is quite evident that the boys have been encouraged to read periodicals such as _the nation_ and _the english review_, and their articles read like elaborate parodies. there is no particular harm in allowing a clever boy to do monkey tricks of this type, but there is a good deal of harm in printing it instead of gently deriding the self-sufficiency of these youthful oracles."--_church times_. "the most obvious fact about these articles is that the boys are writing what they mean, and what they want to say, and that they are able to do so because they feel sure of the community that forms their audience."--mr. kenneth richmond in _the new age_. [of the three articles that follow, the first was printed in the first issue of _the school observer_; the second was written for the suppressed sixth issue; the last was written on the day after the final collapse of the whole experiment, and was, of course, never intended for the paper at all.] i education and the future if workmen strike, if employers oppress, if prostitution flourishes, if paper demagogues are allowed to rule, if poverty exists, if men fight, whatever evil it is, the remedy lies at the root--education. all reforms are mere palliatives until the fundamental reform of education is perfected. there are no connecting links of argument. it is a natural corollary, justified by any particular example that may be traced. it is another question whether education or lack of it is more calculated to hasten the ultimate ideal of well-ordered anarchy, which, consciously or unconsciously, we all entertain; but for the meanwhile the affirmative assumption must be adopted. the sole remaining question, then, is, by what means is education to rectify the immediate evils? while it is fairly generally established that the purpose of education is efficient citizenship, it is clear that, owing to the diminished proportion of the individual to the community, the purpose is being gradually lost sight of. to borrow from scientific phraseology, the tendency of the unit to remaining an "idiot" (in the greek sense of the word!) varies directly as the magnitude of the mass. and this is a truism that public schools do not help to abolish. although "school patriotism" is invariably quoted as a denial of this, there prevails in modern schools a definite inclination towards unsentimental cynicism in the matter. this does not necessarily denote an unhealthy spirit, but an increase of intellect that, whether with justification or not, vaguely asks for something wider or more substantial. perhaps our grandfathers are right when they tell us that the modern youth becomes a man sooner than his predecessors. perhaps our grandfathers are right when they tell us it is a pity. however that may be, the two facts remain, that there is a rather benighted tendency in the direction of intellectual activity, which the public school spirit makes no effort to assist, and that the public schools are inclined to produce gentlemen rather than citizens. of course the former make better advertisements. yet they ought not to. they would not in germany. one day they will not here. the instance shows that the chestertonian "england of romance" is really the one that exists. the word "gentleman" is purely a romantic one, and a gentleman a purely romantic though enviable figure. a state in the future will not be able to thrive on gentlemen: it will need citizens. it has cost me dear to write down this, for in my illogical mind (and no one, by the way, save a politician, could have a logical one!) i would choose without hesitation the gentleman. but that is probably because, if i could, i would sell my quills for brushes. the conclusion from all this, then, is that i was not holding germany up as a paragon just now, but leading up to an obvious improvement--a gentleman-citizen. whoever thinks he fulfils the conditions implicated in the _rôle_ may know that not only is he an uncommon and a great man, but also the embodiment of a high, practicable ideal; in the attainment of which lies the solution of the whole educational question--how, of the two component parts, to maintain the moral position of the first and create one for the second. except for the few, favoured with a productive imagination, the public school can as yet do nothing in this direction. it would be useless, for instance, to crowd a dull, technical science of politics on an already over-amended curriculum. one day it may not be useless. but until a new species of governess can be bred, it is. of the species in question, i know of one example. there may be more, but not many, though of course they are, i am aware, rapidly multiplying. the only possible children's governess is the governess who attempts to teach nothing except how to learn. the ideal education is undoubtedly an _à la carte_ one, but as this is impossible both physically and because a public school master has not the time to find out how to teach any particular boy, the difficulty is solved if the boy has found out how to learn from any particular master. a man's life depends altogether on the first morsel of education he receives, so that a governess's responsibility is colossal. and, of course, a competent governess is a far holier thing than any parson's wife. not only must she teach not so much what he will have to learn (which would scarcely encourage him in view of its magnitude) as how he will have to learn (which could only make him eager to put the theory to the test of practice--all the more so when he finds it succeeds), but also she must attempt to discover and develop, even at this very early stage, the seeds of mental independence and originality, which alone can make him a competent citizen. think how much easier legislation would be in a state composed of such as these! it is the only condition that really justifies democracy. there could be no question of denying a people of this quality a voice in their own government. representation could no longer be a game for gamblers and contortionists. as things are, however, the progress of the public schools (and i have been dealing exclusively with public-school classes) cannot make much headway until they have clay to mould instead of granite to chisel. it is not their fault if there is no way to teach the majority, and if the few are thrown back on their own inadequate resources. the remedy lies in some measure to ensure the right primary education. seventy-five per cent. of the public school boys have not had brilliant, discerning governesses--or even mothers. there are not enough of either to go round. so that the seventy-five per cent., possibly more, don't know how to learn, and the mere twenty-five per cent. do. it is hard to tackle effectively so intangible a problem as the correct primary method of teaching, and the statesman, through whose instrumentality this percentage is reversed, may give up politics for gold not had brilliant, discerning governesses with a clear conscience. the first step, therefore, is to reform the education of women. "take care of the women, the men will take care of themselves." nevertheless, be the solution what it may, the importance of the subject cannot be over-estimated. one more illustration. the better educated a man is, the more capable he is of soaring above the spirit of national citizenship.... and the next stage is the spirit of world citizenship ... which, in the course of many, many years, together, possibly, with the development of esperanto, means the brotherhood of men.... then perpetual peace.... then advancement to a primitive condition.... then the much-dreamed-of well-ordered anarchy.... to continue till a second milton is called upon to write as misty history a second "paradise lost." ... b.w.l. ii "and he saw that it was good...." throughout the universe which he had created he set a great road, and on it was man, at first invisible, but soon an infinite multitude. and then unto man, as to nothing else in his universe, he gave the power to move, and to walk on the road, which he made to pass through all the great and beautiful worlds, coming at last to where he is, where all is happy because all is good, and where nothing ends because there is the end. and as he looked and beheld man scattered out upon the great road as it wound about through the universe, he thought to try his people, and show by a certain proof whether they were possessed of the goodness through which alone they could comprehend all things, and become able to enter the realm of perfect goodness. and so he sent the semblance of a great fire into the universe, which should seem utterly to destroy all things which he had made, and to cut off the hope and possibility of a future perception and life eternal. * * * * * as the fire rolls on, devouring all that it meets, humanity on the road sees its advance, and realises that in the course of a few hours the universe will be reduced to a smouldering cinder, that its hopes for a future life, where the road ends, is cut short and never to be realised, and that apparently its former belief, albeit a vague and ill-defined one, in a god who is all-merciful and kind, was altogether an illusion, and merely a cause for false confidence and self-righteousness. and how will it stand the test? would the good or the bad element in human nature assert itself in the face of absolute annihilation? it is obvious that with such a position several of the possible and no doubt ordinary motives for goodness, such as the idea of doing good in order to reap benefits or escape punishment in a future existence, and of doing good for the sake of having it recognised among others, are excluded from the proposition. even the idea of doing good because it is in accordance with a "will of god" is excluded, since the idea of destruction coming from the direction of the end is unheard of to man, and is in direct contradiction to his ideas of god. we are brought, therefore, down to the very foundation; and the question we have to answer becomes--is one of the elements of human nature a feeling of necessity to pursue goodness for its own sake, quite apart from any motives? in the first place, when a supreme danger such as that already described is rapidly approaching humanity, if such a thing could be, what would be the immediate result? we know that with the ordinary dangers, such as shipwreck and air-raid, the tendency among people gathered together in large numbers is to panic, to herd together and become temporarily deprived of normal reasoning powers. would this be the result of the sight of approaching universal destruction? surely not. panic is the result, i believe, not of approaching danger simply, but necessarily of a danger which threatens to affect some of a number of people more than others, and which there is a possibility of avoiding. it is entirely the element of uncertainty or suspense which causes panic among numbers of people. now this is an important point in the argument. it seems very easy to defeat it on the grounds that animals almost invariably herd together and panic in the face of danger, and that such action cannot be due to the element of uncertainty and suspense, since this necessitates the employment of calculative and reasoning faculties which animals presumably do not possess. the justification is to be found in a closer examination of the part played by the uncertainty in producing the panic which is common to men and animals. in the face of danger, as in everything else, man's first instinct is to reason and calculate, and his calculation results in finding the danger either avoidable and uncertain, which is almost always the case, or unavoidable and inevitable. if the danger is found avoidable, fear is the immediate result. fear as we know it has come into being with reason, but at the same time, as will be seen later, it is only reason which can triumph over and destroy fear. this fear then brings about the destruction of reason, and the animal standard is reached, from which time the man behaves in the same way as the animals, to whom the danger is merely something out of the ordinary. he then comes under the domination of the instinct to panic. it will thus be seen that all the mental processes which came before the reversion to the animal standard in men, are unknown to animals, and are the outcome of the purely human faculty of reason. however, if reason can by any means retain its foothold and its entirety, there will neither be fear nor the consequent breakdown of reason and the domination of panic. now this is the position in the other case, the case in which reason finds the danger unavoidable. in the case of a danger which is unavoidable there will be no panic. it is this fact which accounts for the bravery of numbers of people going to their death on board a sinking ship; but such a position has never--or very seldom, indeed--avoided a relapse, to a certain extent, to panic, inasmuch as there is a possibility of avoiding the danger, and a possibility that some may survive, while others are doomed to perish. in the face of universal destruction, therefore, there will be no fear and no panic. the fact that he is facing annihilation together with the rest of humanity would have an extraordinary influence on each individual, which, of course, would be just the same if he alone was aware of the danger. i remember very well an evening at school when i was told and convinced by several boys older than myself that (i even remember the date) on june th the earth was going to be destroyed. it had been proved, i was told, beyond the shadow of a doubt that on that particular date some natural phenomenon would take place which would inevitably entail the destruction of everything living on the earth. this forms an interesting parallel to the present case; for at the time i was only about eight years old, and i had very scanty ideas about god and future life. to me the earth was the universe. and, furthermore, for about an hour most of us thoroughly believed that the destruction of the earth, or the end of the world as we called it, was at hand. of course, it might be said that there is no real parallel, since we were only children; but i believe that argument to be absolutely fallacious. in the matter of fundamental tendencies and characteristics of human nature one cannot assume such divisions. since the present state of good and evil in human nature has taken thousands of years to become evolved, it seems unlikely that there can be caused in the individual at present any fundamental change. i therefore contend that as soon as personality and independence of character becomes evident in the individual, both the good and the evil in his nature will be present in the same way and in the same relation, although not necessarily in the same proportions or degrees, as they will be throughout the greater part of his life. this personality becomes evident without any doubt at a very early age, certainly by the age of eight; and in so far as the development of good and evil is dependent upon the development of character, it seems likely that these elements will be more clearly marked in the child of eight than in the second infancy of the man of eighty. to return to the personal incident. i recall very vividly now the half-hour which followed my conviction of universal destruction, and, of course, i realise my actual feelings and their probable causes more clearly now than i did at the time. the real force of my conviction only lasted for about an hour, but in that time, and aided no doubt by a rather strained imagination, i was, i feel convinced, in the same position as any one of the individuals on that great road as they see the fire approaching and devouring the entire universe. as the affair was being explained to me i remember i was terrified, but very soon, and as soon as i realised the situation, which it must be remembered the people on the road would do almost instantaneously, this feeling entirely left me. and the next feeling, a very forcible one, was rather extraordinary, being as it was an overpowering feeling of solitude. it was evening, and twenty or thirty of us were all in a large classroom together, and for many minutes i felt more lonely than i ever had before; i felt cut off from all those around me, and i see that, as peer gynt would have said, "i had become myself." as has already been said, i was not frightened, and what i did in those minutes was to work. it was "prep-time," and it is an interesting fact, as bearing out what has already been said both about the establishment of individuality with consequent opportunities of concentration, and also about the maintenance of reason, that i was able to "do" in those minutes, and do better than usual, the work that generally demanded more than the allotted hour. very soon, however, the feeling of solitude passed away and its place was taken by a feeling of exactly the opposite nature, a feeling of unity, of extraordinary fellowship, followed by a wonderful sensation of happiness. all this sounds rather grotesque, and the continued use of these rather meaningless epithets is very ineffectual in expressing what they are meant to convey. but it must be remembered that the position is altogether an extraordinary one; and the feelings and sensations resulting from such a position were extraordinary at the time and still are extraordinary. the position seems quite unique; it is difficult to imagine where and how else that same mental condition could be produced: older people would not have credited the story even for the short time that we did, and younger children would not have had the independence of thought and imagination to picture and contemplate the situation. at the time it was my good fortune to experience things which i have never experienced before or since, and which i believe few ever have experienced. however, you ask for a return to the question of whether goodness is an immanent reality in human nature; you ask perhaps, in view of the incident described, "if it had been in your power to do something at that time which was supremely pleasurable but at the same time contrary to your moral ideas, would you have done it?" the answer, which is mainly contained in or drawn from what has gone before is--no; and the direct reason is, because, in the conditions produced by the position described, nothing but what is good remains in the human nature. the bed-rock has been reached, and it is good; the causes of evil and of its continuance are removed. ever since man has led a corporate life it seems probable that one outstanding evil has prevailed, in greater or less degrees according to the rate and amount of progress made by any community. and this evil is the lack and suppression of individuality. it seems impossible to account for it, except by simply saying that it is, and has always been a characteristic tendency of human nature; however, this is the most encouraging answer possible, because it assumes that this evil can eventually be eradicated. no one can surely deny that there is a lack of individuality at present; its chief manifestations, of course, are to be found in hatred, and in the spirit of competition and rivalry; it produces a clash between individual opinions and actions which is so apparent that it cannot be denied, and need not be enlarged upon. but, apart from these more obvious manifestations, this failing has been responsible for the production and continuance of _all_ that is evil in man. human nature is the foundation of our life, of that foundation every individual is entitled to partake; and, furthermore, that foundation is good. every individual possesses a portion of this foundation as his right; and what is the result, under these circumstances, of lack of individuality? surely the result is that some parts of those individual sections, parts which are in some cases similar to and in other cases different from parts of other individual sections, are used as the foundation, while the remainder is left unused. for, for the most part, men either employ those parts of their portion of the foundation of goodness which are common to as many other individual sections as possible, or, like alceste, the parts which are definitely opposed to most others. in any case where the foundation is undeveloped and unused there grows, like a poisonous growth, sin, which is made of and feeds upon the material of the good foundation, which has been put to the wrong use. sin and evil are not separate, in the strict sense, from good. it seems inconceivable that good and evil should have had different origins, and should have existed as rival elements in human nature without the one having by this time triumphed over the other. in matters which affect every member of a body similarly, the combined influence of all those members should be brought to bear; but where every individual can "be himself" and interpret and use his portion of the foundation of goodness in the complete way for which he was made and intended, without affecting others, he should be allowed to influence them or be influenced by them, without interference on the part of any other individual. since this has not been the case, we have had the continuance of sin, and until it is the case, there always will be sin. now, in the position described, complete individuality is established and evil ceases to exist and becomes a thing of the past. with the near prospect of universal destruction, there is immediately a cessation of progress; and then, as in the incident described, there comes complete individuality--every individual becomes himself. with a common destruction inevitable and with the establishment of individuality, co-operation in its true sense prevails, and with it the surpassing and disappearance of evil; and then that wonderful happiness ... of all this i am convinced. i remember well the effect for an hour or so among a few of us that evening. the contrast between the atmosphere in the little room in which the most impressed of us gathered during that time, which was free, i know, from everything but good, and that of a day or two later when we made fun of the whole affair, is so marked that my opinion on the matter is very definite. goodness alone there was at the beginning, and goodness alone there will be at the end. no man is the cause of his own downfall, but he alone as an individual can be the maintainer of his foothold. individuality in all that concerns the individual, alone can make and keep life clean and sweet. if this individuality could, by such means as education, be established, there would be constituted a _uniting_ force through humanity which could lead it, in the course of time, in the way it should go. * * * * * and as he raised the semblance of the fire from the universe, he looked upon man and saw that he was good. j. a. a. j. iii the dream how much of our life seems and is a dream! how often we feel ourselves carried off our feet and borne along on a tide of circumstances, tossed backwards and forwards on a sea of conflicting events, now hurried along by a current of opinion, now blinded with the spray of false accusation, then motionless for a moment, trying to collect our shattered thoughts before the next onslaught: but all the time out of touch, consciously, with what is going on, utterly powerless, trying to gather up the threads and recover consciousness. any action that we take, any word that we utter, is done without thought, without knowledge, and without any result. and yet neither the cause nor the effect are, strictly speaking, physical. the position is a mental attitude, in this case mental helplessness, and this is dependent solely upon the relation of the mind to exterior circumstances. when we are fully conscious, we are ourselves each the centre of a little world, which includes all that concerns us, and the appearance of this depends entirely upon its particular meaning for us. we do not, cannot, under these circumstances, see anything exactly as it is: its appearance is influenced by its importance for us or by the degree of approval, or disapproval which we ourselves attach to it. when our life becomes a dream, our sphere is broken into and usurped by the changing of values, shapes, and appearance of things within it. the old familiar forms are transfigured and tampered with, our mistaken or incomplete idea of persons is revealed, and a host of new and inexplicable forms appear; with the result that we are literally bewildered, and instead of regarding things with reference to their influence upon us, we see things as they are in themselves--when we can see at all--and feel what they actually do to us. there can be no one who is not aware of this experience, in a greater or a less degree. i speak of it as dreaming because that is the analogy which best represents the circumstances, all of which have been explained except one. in the same way as we are not conscious that what we have been dreaming is a dream until we awake, so in these periods of our actual life in which we are deprived of will and are borne along by exterior circumstances and forces, we are not aware of our helplessness, of our utter weakness, of the significance of what we have seen and heard, until we have regained consciousness and woken again to our freedom. in this sense i have recently had a dream, and only since have i realised that what i dreamt was fact; and then i was able to place it all within my sphere--its ideas, its causes, and its effects have become or are becoming the familiar forms and shapes, in the midst of which i am, like a spider at the centre of its web, placed with my hands on every thread. and this is that dream. full of life and happiness i set out with another, one who was a friend and had lived with me for a time, sharing the same hopes, methods, and ideals. laughing as we went, with the smiling world around us and the glad faces of those we knew, we made our way to the house of one who, older than ourselves, had inspired and befriended in us those hopes and ideals. and there we learnt from him that the authorities of the community, the institution to which we belonged, had taken offence at our methods and by suppressing them had destroyed our aims and all that was most dear to us. as we sat there in silence, my mind cast back over the time--it was little more than a year--since our outlook had been entirely changed. i saw the school a throbbing piece of mechanism with its bells, its clocks, and its governors, set down in a place of great beauty. blind to anything of beauty, it worked with a rhythm and a precision which became a twentieth-century development (although it had been set up in , and was still running on very nearly its original lines--which was the reason, so they say, of why it "worked" so "well"). i saw it at work and was myself made part of its raw material. into its hungry mouth there went childhood at its best, full of energy, with every kind of ability, talent and promise, enterprise and ambition; through its teeth, its moulds, and its classrooms they passed, until they issued from the end a single and singular type of humanity, moulded, stamped, docketed and numbered--to take their place, or rather, and this is the saddest note of all, their very numerous and different places in the world. while this was passing through my mind we got up and went out for a walk. and then there came the war, and the men and institutions of europe were put to a supreme test. and the immediate result was that men began to think, began to look about them, and realising the palpable evil of war, began to wonder whether they had not been mistaken in their values and systems. men soon came to realise that they did not fulfil their entire duty if they followed as nearly as possible in the footsteps of their great-grandfathers, but that as the world moved it behoved them to move; that each man is made with the possibility of every attitude and achievement as seeds within him; that circumstances alone had caused him to live on some of these and not on others; that intolerance was therefore a crime of the most unpardonable character; that it was wrong and unprofitable to let one's self be borne along on the surface of the world's tide--and that it was every man's duty to use the world as he finds it for the development and fulfilment of all that is best within him, and not to depend upon one thing and reject another, favour one opinion, and oppose or even disregard another. and those in the school who first realised this, determined not to submit to the guiding and moulding of this mechanical institution, but to look at the world around and outside them--its beauty, its methods, its effects, its possibility, its wonder and its joy, and to develop for themselves, under the guidance and suggestion of those whom they trusted, their own powers, with their own principles to guide them and their own aims to reach. and in the carrying out of this plan and in the suggesting of it to others and in witnessing the results in others and in the institution to which they belonged, they, and later i and all those who followed them, found great happiness--a happiness which i felt could come from nowhere else, and certainly a happiness such as i had never before experienced. a greater facility in all intellectual activity, and in avoiding and fighting everything which one felt to be wrong, a greater confidence, and determination through self-dependence in all things, are some of the natural immediate fruits of a self-conceived basis of thought and action which refused to accept blindly everything that was handed down or dealt out. the permanent results in the shape of statistics and concrete evidence are proof and witness to the rightness of the undertaking. but now it is all of the past--the reasons are irrelevant; suffice it that they are iniquitous, and more than iniquitous, since they have murdered what is right. and now we had come, after passing through a great field of green corn rustling in the light wind, to a fence, on which we sat. my retrospective thoughts had now caught up to the present--but i was still dreaming. all that i thought was unconscious, out of my control and wonderful. our attempt had been very beautiful, had been a work of art, and in many ways had come to a beautiful and artistic end. like a great and wonderful bubble, wrought in many and enchanting colours, it rose up complete at that moment from its birthplace and deathbed--and i was happy again. then from the place down below us--that place in which we had striven and apparently failed--i seemed to hear the voice of those who opposed and hated us in our ways--those who were making the school into a machine again--and were rejoicing in it, as they pumped in the oil: "the germans are verrmin--it is your work in life to _krrussch_ them!" and at that very moment there came by three german prisoners--passed us, jumped over the fence and were gone; but the likeness! it was more than striking; never, never shall i forget it--and i was convinced. the school, its very self, its soul, had struggled to its feet, and as a little child was taking its first conscious steps--the most beautiful, perhaps, that it was ever destined to take--when they, those mechanicians, with their mailed fists smote it in the face, crushed it heartlessly to the ground, with louvain and belgium not only before their eyes but on their very lips. "oh, this world is a rotten place," he said, at my side. "i wonder," i murmured in reply, and i still do.... j. a. a. j. none none reflections on the operation of the present system of education. by christopher c. andrews, counsellor at law. "train up a child in the way he should go; and, when he is old, he will not depart from it." boston: crosby, nichols, and company, , washington street. . boston: printed by john wilson and son, , school street. prefatory note. the increasing importance of the subject treated of has led the author to revise an article, published nearly two years ago in a monthly journal, and to present it in the following pages. his object is to call attention to what he regards a _defect in the operation_ of our present system of education, and to propose some suggestions for its remedy. that defect consists in the want of moral instruction in our schools. its existence, he believes, may be attributed to the state of public opinion, rather than to any imperfection in the system itself. for this reason, he is of opinion that remarks on the subject are more necessary, and therefore worthier of the consideration and indulgence of the public. , court street, boston, may, . the incomplete operation of our present system of education. the duty of bringing up the young in the way of usefulness has ever been acknowledged as of utmost importance to the well-being and safety of a state. so imperative was this obligation considered by solon, the athenian lawgiver, that he excused children from maintaining their parents, when old and feeble, if they had neglected to qualify them for some useful art or profession. although this principle has universally prevailed in every civilized age, yet the success of its practical operation depends entirely upon what is understood by necessary knowledge and useful employment. if, as among the lacedemonians and many other nations of antiquity, a useful art consisted chiefly in the exploits of war,--in being able to undergo privations and hardships, and in wielding successfully the heavy instruments of bloodshed,--such an education as would conduce to the acquirement of that art must be estimated on different grounds from that system whose object is to develop the moral and intellectual faculties. from the distant past, traditions have come down, evincing in many instances exemplary care in the culture of youth; but the conspicuous record made of them by the historian and poet refutes the idea that they were common. with the lapse of centuries, revolutions in the arts and sciences have been effected, important in themselves, but more so for the changes they have produced both in social and political affairs. like hunters who discover in their forest-wanderings a valuable mine which shapes anew their course of life, the people of the old world, in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, were allured from their incessant conflicts by the more profitable arts of peace. till then the interests of learning had been crushed by the superstition and bigotry of the times. in the fourteenth century even, the most celebrated university in europe, that of bologna, bestowed its chief honors upon the professorship of astrology. but these grand developments in art and science gave a new impulse to social life. thenceforward the interests of education began to thrive. the patronage given to popular instruction by many of the rulers of european states has imparted a lustre to their annals, which will almost atone for their heartless perversion of human rights. for whether we consider the coercive system of prussia, which not yet exhibits very happy practical results; or the austrian system, which indirectly operates coercively by denying employment to those unprovided with school-diplomas; or the bavarian, which makes a certificate of six years' schooling necessary to the contracting of a valid marriage or apprenticeship; or, indeed, the systems of many other continental countries,--we find much to excite cheering anticipations. this country--this commonwealth especially--has ever been distinguished for being foremost in the maintenance of a benevolent and comprehensive system of education. that system is, we believe, in the judgment of foreigners, one of the most original things which america has produced. fortunately for the prosperity of the people who derive their support on this rugged soil, their fathers were a class of men deeply imbued with moral sentiment,--lovers of freedom and of knowledge; men who sought that security of their principles in the spread of moral intelligence, which the sword alone would in vain attempt to procure. "the hands that wielded the axe or guided the canoe in the morning opened the page of history and philosophy in the evening;" and it cannot be a matter of surprise, that, counting their greatest wealth in their own industry and resolution, they should at an early period turn their attention to the important subject of education; and that they even denied themselves many of the comforts of life, in order to secure the blessings which might evolve therefrom. the peculiarity of our system of government is, that it invests the sovereignty in the people; and, as it has always been the policy of every nation claiming to be civilized to educate those who were designed to govern, it might naturally enough be inferred, that, in this country, means would be provided whereby the whole people might receive an education. and thus it is. the true object, therefore, of such a system of instruction as the government supports, it must be conceded by all, consists in qualifying the young to become good citizens,--in teaching them not only what their duties are, but making them ready and willing to perform them. we should discriminate between the object of common schools and the object of colleges; between an institution intended to inform every one of what every one should know, and one designed to fit persons for particular spheres of life, by a course of instruction which it is impracticable for all to pursue. a very large majority of those who enter our colleges are desirous of acquiring that knowledge, as well as discipline, which will prepare them most thoroughly for some one of the learned professions: it is a course preparatory to one still higher,--a gateway by which the industrious and sagacious may with greater ease traverse the long and winding avenues of science. of a more general nature is the object of that instruction provided by the state for all, because it is designed to fit them for a greater variety of duties, and the chief of these duties is that of _living justly_. if we regarded physical resources as the chief elements of prosperity, or intellectual superiority the principal source of national greatness; if we followed the theory of the persian legislator, zoroaster, who thought that to plant a tree, to cultivate a field, and to have a family, were the great duties of man, we might be content with that instruction which would sharpen the intellect, and furnish us with acute and skilful men of business. but an enlightened public sentiment rejects such a theory as narrow and unsafe. it is surely of great importance that children should be made familiar with the common branches of knowledge; that their minds should receive as thorough discipline as is practicable; but of what transcendent importance is it that they should have impressed upon their minds the principles of truth and justice, and the true value of resolute, earnest industry; that they should grow up in the love of virtue and honor, and be taught to know and govern themselves! education of the heart, as well as education of the mind, should be promoted. the state should make men before it makes artisans; citizens before it makes statesmen. and this in theory it proposes to do. the highest praise that can be bestowed upon our system of education, here in massachusetts, is that the leading object it contemplates is the moral instruction of the young. this is its grand and peculiar feature. those who have been and are now at the head of our educational interests, have sought, by timely word and deed, to carry this purpose into active operation. in so doing, they have attempted to give effect to the law which expressly ordains that "all instructors of youth shall exert their best endeavors to impress on the minds of children and youth committed to their care and instruction, the principles of piety, justice, and a sacred regard to truth, love to their country, humanity and universal benevolence, sobriety, industry and frugality, chastity, moderation and temperance, and those other virtues which are the ornament of human society, and the basis upon which a republican constitution is founded; and it shall be the duty of such instructors to endeavor to lead their pupils, as their ages and capacities will admit, into a clear understanding of the tendency of the above-mentioned virtues." (rev. stat. chap. , § .) nobody, probably, at this day believes, that, in cherishing principles of this nature, the law which creates this system is visionary or impracticable. all are ready to admit, that the human heart needs the influence of moral discipline. yet such is the nature of our social existence that there is a great tendency to postpone its application,--to let it depend upon contingencies. when nearly all of the good or evil that we can possibly do has been done,--after temptations have been resisted or yielded to,--after our years begin to wane, we then think seriously of moral improvement. preachers the most eloquent--for their eloquence commands the highest reward--we employ to exhort us to practise virtues, which, if we had been rightly educated, we should have practised from our earliest youth with as much facility as we read or write. if a child is to learn grammar, let him commence, every one will say, when young, while his memory is most retentive. if we are to teach him those principles which are to shape his destiny in life, and have their home in the heart, should we wait till it is least susceptible of impression? it cannot be denied that too much indifference prevails on this subject. we are apt to shut our eyes to the evils which arise from imperfect education, so long as they do not affect our personal interest. victims of depraved appetites and passions we take charge of, not out of regard for them, or the circumstances which have induced their guilt, but for our own protection. when a man sunk in crime is held up to public gaze, nearly the same feeling is excited which actuates boys who follow with noisy jests a drunken woman. rarely do we stop to inquire, why, if wrong influences had been brought to bear upon our characters, we should not have been as bad. unless such instruction be promoted, many who are now unconcerned for the misfortunes of others will themselves ask for compassion. "surely there will come a time," says dr. johnson with truthful energy, "when he who laughs at wickedness in his companion _shall start from it in his child_." now, the only sure and legitimate way of reforming those evils which burden society is to prevent their acquiring any existence. it is a favorite notion with many, that, by checking vice here and there, our benevolent institutions are working a thorough cure. but this is not so. while we furnish subsistence to those whom intemperance and idleness have brought to destitution,--while we erect asylums where reason may be restored to the shattered mind,--while we enlarge prisons in which to punish the violators of the law,--we should remember that some endeavors should be made to prevent others from requiring the same charities, and incurring the same penalties. instead of standing merely by the fatal shoal to rescue the sinking crew, we should raise a warning signal to avert future shipwrecks. all experience shows that, to operate successfully, this branch of education must be early attended to. true it is, that, just as 'the twig is bent, the tree's inclined;' and true it is, that on the discipline of childhood depends the moral character of manhood. the tree in the forest, after it has grown to a considerable height, may yet be bent from its natural course, and, by long-continued force, be made to grow in a different direction; but that change will not be permanent. when the power which turned its course is withdrawn, every breeze and every tempest that shake its branches will aid it in gradually assuming its original position, till hardly a trace of that power which attempted to guide its growth can be perceived. there may be some who would neglect that moral influence on the young which is necessary, trusting in the delusive expectation, that the law will keep them in the right path; that the example of punishment, the terror of the gallows, the prison, or the penitentiary, will prevent the commission of crime. but let us not wait for the saving influence of these things; for they are but checks which often render the next outbreak more alarming. the force of punishment will be found to resemble the application of power in changing the growth of the tree: weeks, years of confinement, will not effect a complete reformation in the offender. his life may seem to be changed, his habits reformed; but, as he goes out to mingle again with the world, as one occasion after another presents itself to him, his former passions begin to revive, those early impressions take possession of him, and he becomes the same that he was originally, only that his degraded position renders him far less able to resist the temptation to do wrong. impressions and habits acquired in youth are proverbially lasting. with characteristic eloquence and fervor has lord brougham illustrated the peculiar importance of early training. in a speech delivered in the house of lords in upon one of those measures which have conferred so much glory on his name as well as benefit upon his countrymen, he said, "if at a very early age a system of instruction is pursued by which a certain degree of independent feeling is created in the child's mind, while all mutinous and perverse disposition is avoided,--if this system be followed up by a constant instruction in the principles of virtue, and a corresponding advancement in intellectual pursuits,--if, during the most critical years of his life, his understanding and his feelings are accustomed only to sound principles and pure and innocent impressions, it will become almost impossible that he should afterward take to vicious courses, because these will be utterly alien to the whole nature of his being. it will be as difficult for him to become criminal, because as foreign to his confirmed habits, as it would be for one of your lordships to go out and rob on the highway. thus, to commence the education of youth at the tender age on which i have laid so much stress, will, i feel confident, be the same means of guarding society against crimes. i trust every thing to habit,--habit, upon which, in all ages, the lawgiver, as well as the schoolmaster, has mainly placed his reliance,--habit, which makes every thing easy, and casts all difficulties upon the deviation from the wonted course. make sobriety a habit, and intemperance will be hateful and hard; make prudence a habit, and reckless profligacy will be as contrary to the nature of the child, grown an adult, as the most atrocious crimes are to any of your lordships. give a child the habit of sacredly regarding truth, of carefully respecting the property of others, of scrupulously abstaining from all acts of improvidence which can involve him in distress, and he will just as little think of lying or cheating or stealing, or running in debt, as of rushing into an element in which he cannot breathe." the thought may strike some, however, that children can receive moral discipline at home; that parents are best enabled to understand the disposition of their children, and can consequently apply the requisite training with more success than any one else; and, most of all, because it is their especial duty so to do. so we might say, with almost as much reason, that parents could teach their children the elementary branches of knowledge; in the first place, because it is in their province to know the peculiar turn of mind possessed by their children, and also for the equally plausible reason, that they are under a great obligation to educate them. now, there is much truth in the observation of seneca's, that people carry their neighbors' faults in a bag before them, which are easily to be seen, and their own behind them unseen; and, without doing parents too much injustice, we may say that they are inclined to carry the failings of their children tied up with their own. the fact is, generally speaking, parents are so confident that their children do not lack in honesty and integrity, at a time when these principles should be forcibly impressed upon them, that they let the occasion for moral training pass until bad habits are deeply rooted in their character. there are, we know, many cheering exceptions; yet, if moral instruction is neglected in the school, to a majority of the scholars that neglect will nowhere be provided for, until some bad results have ensued. to carry out, then, the primal purpose of our system of education, instructors should seek to mould the character of their pupils. supervisors and committee-men should require a faithful discharge of this trust. when they come to examine the school, if the standard of intellectual attainments is not so high as might be desirable, they should yet bear testimony to its advancement, if they find that those "virtues which adorn life" have been held up in all their attractiveness to the imitation of the pupil. thus have we seen that the system itself contemplates the culture of the heart as well as the mind; and that it is wise, practical, and just in doing so. we now propose to show that this object is generally disregarded, if not entirely lost sight of, in our common schools; and to illustrate, if possible, the means whereby it can be more completely carried into operation. in the first place, the present state of society testifies to a neglect somewhere of inculcating habits of rectitude. there is a want of conscience in the community. the prevalence of crime, as seen by the returns of public prosecutors and magistrates, is but a small part of the evidence of this fact. we might as well judge of a man's wealth by his dress, as to form an opinion on public morals by the number of punishable offences committed. and, indeed, the records of courts furnish but incomplete evidence of the number of punishable offences actually committed; for where one criminal is brought to the bar of justice, ten escape detection. we have the authority of a very eminent judge for this remark. but there are wrongs which are not punishable by the law, being too small and undefinable for its cognizance. it is the bad faith which enters into contracts, and deceives the honest purchaser, or dupes the confiding vendor; the baseness which conspires to wink down credit; the avarice which greedily takes advantage of poverty, or the craft which converts it into a weapon of fraud; the scandal which sets neighbor against neighbor; the fretful harshness which clouds the domestic fireside; the ingratitude which spurns parental influence; the selfishness which would trade in principles, and bargain away public measures for private gain,--these, and such as these, are the conclusive proofs of public vice. even the deplorable appearances which penury exhibits are counterfeited, and we hesitate to give alms lest we should encourage an impostor. the benevolent man distrusts the beggar who asks for a night's lodging, and turns him away, fearful that he might prove an assassin or a robber; or he reluctantly calls him back, lest he should revenge himself by burning his barn. there are common symptoms which show a patient's sickness, though they do not indicate the particular nature of his disease. so this mutual distrust, which characterizes the dealings of men, indicates the debility of public morals, and points with unerring certainty to the neglect of early discipline. but an inspection of the schools will afford us the most reliable evidence on this subject. from the system of instruction now pursued in our best common schools, a scholar of ordinary capacity is enabled to become a good reader, writer, and speller; to acquire a very good knowledge of geography and arithmetic, and a little insight into natural philosophy, physiology, grammar, and history, as well as to gain some habits of order and correct deportment. it is true also that in some schools considerable efforts are bestowed on moral culture: this, however, depends upon the peculiar character of the teacher. yet it cannot be denied, that intellectual improvement is treated as of paramount importance; and that, if any attempts are made at moral training, they are purely incidental; being considered collateral to the other lessons. surely no one will think of reproaching teachers for this condition of things; for they are governed by the public opinion of the district or town they teach in, as much as the statesman is governed by the public opinion of the country. the voice of the district is silent on the subject. the committee who examined or engaged them did not allude to that part of their duty, or inquire into their qualifications for discharging it. if the teacher goes through the term in harmony, and succeeds in advancing his pupils in an ordinary degree in the common branches, he is acknowledged to have accomplished his entire duty. in attempting to show the manner in which the right development of character may be blended with the development of the mental faculties, it might be proper to advert to the method a teacher could pursue with the greatest success. a very imperfect idea only of any policy can be given, inasmuch as the duty must be left to his own discretion. no set plan can be adhered to; neither could text-books be used to advantage. he should not have an appointed time for such an exercise, nor resort to formal lectures, nor rely upon the studied maxims which moralists have framed in the closet, nor depend upon the stereotyped precepts of philosophers. as the sentiments he inculcates are addressed to the heart, so also from the heart should they spring. every one knows that the events which transpire in and about the school-room furnish too frequent opportunities for this species of instruction. these acts of turpitude he should heed, and make the subject of his lessons. report comes to him that some of his pupils have been guilty of insulting and ridiculing an aged and infirm person. he might give them time to reflect upon the nature of their act, and to decide themselves whether it was right or wrong. then let him show the claims which age, combined with feebleness, has upon our respect and sympathy, and expose the cruelty and shame of that conduct which would increase its misfortunes. he learns, perhaps, that a pupil has used profane language during an intermission. as he requires the school to pause, let him speak in simple language of the omnipotence and omnipresence of the creator; of the commandment which he has ordained, that none should take his name in vain. by referring to some of the faculties, mental and physical, with which he has been endowed, let the teacher call forth the gratitude, not only of that pupil but the whole school, for the wonderful goodness of their maker. by reminding them of his compassion and tenderness, his infinite wisdom and power, let him inspire them with love and reverence for his name. envy and jealousy he will see prominent in the character of his fairest pupils: let him show that the heart was not made for such feelings; that, if they are nurtured there, no room will be found for noble and generous sentiments. quarrels will occur in which blows will be dealt lustily: a few simple illustrations will prove that force is a dangerous and imperfect arbiter of justice. if unhappily falsehood prevails, let him make haste to supplant a habit, so fearful and pernicious, though every thing else be laid aside. let him show the great inconvenience a man must experience in whose word no confidence can be reposed. the fable of the shepherd-boy who gave false alarms to the distant workmen of the approach of wolves, so that when the wolves really came his cries were in vain, will show that lying is unprofitable in the end. but his chief object should be to exhibit the moral turpitude of the habit,--the facility with which it leads to deeper guilt,--the manifold evils which it engenders in the community; and thus to impress upon the minds of his pupils a sacred regard for truth. such, it might seem, would be the course which a high-minded and zealous teacher would pursue in imparting moral instruction. but, whatever be his method, it is quite certain that a successful performance of his duty in this respect implies great capacity. extensive learning will not be a sufficient qualification. an accurate and comprehensive knowledge of the sciences may have given vigor to his mind; he may be familiar with the classic pages of thucydides and homer, horace and livy; he may be versed in the philosophy of history, and yet lack in the essential elements of his art. he must possess native talent, a clear insight of human character, agreeable address, extemporaneous powers of speech. he must be a clear-thinking, conscientious, practical man; and it will be impossible for him to fail in his undertaking. such a teacher will win the respect and esteem of his pupils: they will imitate his example, and cherish his counsel. now, the inquiry will naturally be made if the teachers of common schools have these qualifications. there are some who are thus qualified. they are those who in other professions would rise to eminence by the zeal and ability with which they now advance our youth in intellectual culture. but they are an exception to the common standard. the majority of teachers, however, are quite young. they are preparing themselves for other duties, which they consider more important to their own interests, if not the interests of the public. not experienced sufficiently in their art to excel in its ordinary labors, they do not stand far enough above their pupils to succeed in this higher and more difficult branch of instruction. before, then, moral education can be successfully promoted, the right kind of teachers must be employed. there is but one way of obtaining them, and that is by paying them liberal salaries. all are not philanthropists. here and there, it is true, may be found persons disinterested enough to devote their energies to the public good, for their daily bread alone. but it is the height of absurdity to expect that men of talent and learning will continue in so arduous an occupation as that of teaching for small compensation, when in less laborious pursuits they can acquire opulence. the average pay received by male teachers throughout the commonwealth, as appears from the last annual report of the learned secretary of the board of education, is $ . per month. the average length of schools being seven months and a half, the yearly salary of the teacher would therefore be $ . ; out of which he must pay for his board and all other expenses. hardly adequate to support one man respectably, it entirely excludes the circumstance of his having a family, implying a self-denial of the common uses of social life. the natural presumption is, that a teacher is not exempt from the calamities that sometimes befall men; that he buys a few books and a little stationary; that he is as unwilling as any one to wear ragged clothes; and, uncertain of continued employment in one place, that he incurs some expense in changing his locality. but the standard price which he receives ignores any such presumption. in regard to the payment of female teachers, we might suppose that a different rule would prevail; that in a community where woman holds a high moral, social, and intellectual position,--where marked deference is paid to her character,--where the great superiority of her influence as a parent and a teacher is acknowledged,--one might indeed suppose that she would be liberally rewarded for her services, especially when those services are rendered in her peculiar sphere of duty,--that of teaching. strange as it may appear, such is not the case; while her labor, apparently not so responsible, is often more wearing than the labor of the schoolmaster. it seems that the average pay of female teachers is $ . per month. when it is remembered that all the expenses of living are to be deducted from the amount paid at this rate, her real income shrinks into the merest trifle. there is not an occupation in which intelligent young women can be employed that does not present greater pecuniary inducements. under such circumstances it must be a matter of surprise that we have as good teachers, both male and female, as now have charge of our schools. will any one, then, for a moment suppose that persons of greater ability than they will be induced to engage or continue in such an employment, when wealth and influence and happiness point in another direction? laying aside suppositions, let us see what the facts are. with the majority of those now engaged in the business, teaching is a temporary employment. some are teaching during their college vacations, intending, as soon as they graduate, to commence their professional studies;--they are perhaps our future judges, or clergymen, or sagacious merchants; others are already abandoning the business to enter upon mercantile pursuits. as soon as they have acquired experience, so that their services are truly valuable to the public, they find that their future prospects are to be sacrificed if they continue longer in the profession. thus, instead of retaining persons in this most important of all professions, we drive them out of it to adorn and exalt other occupations. many of the ablest men in each of our learned professions were once school-teachers: if a proper reward had encouraged them to remain in that capacity, how visible at this day would be the influence which they would have exerted upon their pupils! it is clear, then, that the only means by which we can retain teachers who have the requisite talent and ability, is by paying them adequate salaries. then our schools can furnish moral as well as intellectual instruction; and the object which our system of education contemplates can in a great degree be accomplished. fully aware that the people are peculiarly sensitive on the subject of taxation, especially when no tangible results are to follow its increase, we do not hesitate to say that the interests of education demand a far greater expenditure of money. the spirit which has characterized the people of the commonwealth, in their past efforts to advance the cause, promises favorable action on the subject. in an age when astonishing improvements in every art and every science are being developed,--when nature, in her most regal and opposing state, bends to the energy of man,--when countless sums are lavished to gratify and satiate every sense, how mortifying and discreditable that a great moral cause should languish! even if the contribution which would be required for this purpose could in any way be felt by the poorest citizen, it could not be felt as a burden; for he might regard it as an investment the most profitable and secure,--the income of which would return to his own door full of blessings upon his declining days. when solicited to double the tax which he had formerly paid for school-purposes, regarding his own interest merely, and not that of the public, he might sincerely say, "yes, out of my limited means i am content to pay freely for such an object. by paying the teacher more, am i not increasing his usefulness? am i not doing something to bring up my children in knowledge and integrity? will they not be a greater comfort to me, and more happy and prosperous themselves? besides, in a few years, much mischief in the community may be diminished, and there will be a smaller tax on me and mine to support criminals and prisons. if all are taught to do their duty as citizens, i shall not suffer for their neglect of doing so." though the correctness of his reasoning will be admitted, the argument in this behalf should be placed on higher grounds than individual prosperity. the benefits to be derived by the public as exhibited in the abatement of many social evils,--in the diffusion of rational happiness,--in the gains of honest industry, such should be the inducements to this worthy undertaking. in conclusion, we submit that for reasons too apparent to be alluded to, and too urgent to be disregarded, more attention should be devoted to the true aim and purpose of education,--to a more complete operation of the system. more than the past has needed, will the future require the benefits which it unfolds. let the teacher's vocation be elevated, and advantages will accrue to the state, compared with which, exuberant harvests, a thriving commerce, and an overflowing treasury, will be but small resources. we should form a wise and generous precedent in this matter, below which indifference will not suffer us to fall. we should engage in the enterprise with a determination to carry it forward to the highest degree of success. it may be "absurd to expect, but it is not absurd to pursue, perfection." the civilization of illiteracy, by mihai nadin (c) mihai nadin the book's cover succinctly depicts the subject to see the book cover, and to read more details about the book (reviews, opinions, forum, etc.) go to http://www.nadin.ws/publications/books the author, who made this book available to you as a copyrighted gutenberg project etext, would like readers to let him know at nadin@utdallas.edu that they read the book or parts of it. foreward introduction literacy in a changing world thinking about alternatives progressing towards illiteracy? book one the chasm between yesterday and tomorrow contrasting characters choose a letter and click keeping up with faster living loaded literacy man proposes, man disposes beyond the commitment to literacy a moving target the wise fox "between us the rift" malthus revisited captives to literacy the epitome of the civilization of illiteracy for the love of trade "the best of the useful and the best of the ornamental" the rear-view mirror syndrome book two from signs to language semeion revisited the first record is a whip scale and threshold signs and tools from orality to writing individual and collective memory cultural memory frames of existence the alienation of immediacy orality and writing today: what do people understand when they understand language? a feedback called confirmation primitive orality and incipient writing assumptions taking literacy for granted to understand understanding words about images the functioning of language expression, communication, signification the idea machine writing and the expression of ideas future and past knowing and understanding univocal, equivocal, ambiguous making thoughts visible alphabet cultures and a lesson from aphasia language and logic logics behind the logic a plurality of intellectual structures the logics of actions sampling memetic optimism book three language as mediating mechanism the power of insertion myth as mediating pre-text differentiation and coordination integration and coordination revisited life after literacy literacy, language and market preliminaries products 'r' us the language of the market the language of products transaction and literacy whose market? whose freedom? new markets, new languages literacy and the transient market, advertisement, literacy language and work inside and outside the world we are what we do literacy and the machine the disposable human being scale of work, scale of language innate heuristics the realm of alternatives mediation of mediation literacy and education "know the best" ideal vs. real relevance temples of knowledge coherence and connection plenty of questions the equation of a compromise to be a child who are we kidding? what about alternatives? book four language and the visual how many words in a look? the mechanical eye and the electronic eye who is afraid of a locomotive? being here and there at the same time visualization unbounded sexuality seeking good sex beyond immediacy the land of sexual ubiquity the literate invention of the woman ahead to the past freud, modern homosexuality, aids sex and creativity equal access to erotic mediocrity family: discovering the primitive future togetherness the quest for permanency what breaks down when family fails? the homosexual family to want a child children in the illiterate family a new individuality discontinuity how advanced the past. how primitive the future a god for each of us but who made god? the plurality of religious experiences the educated faithful-a contradiction in terms? challenging permanency and universality religion and efficiency religiosity in the civilization of illiteracy secular religion a mouthful of microwave diet food and expectations fishing in a videolake language and nourishment sequence and configuration revisited on cooks, pots, and spoons the identity of food the language of expectations coping with the right to affluence from self-nourishment to being fed run and feed the hungry no truffles (yet) in the coop we are what we eat the professional winner sport and self-constitution language and physical performance the illiterate champion gentlemen, place your bets! the message is the sneaker science and philosophy-more questions than answers rationality, reason, and the scale of things a lost balance thinking about thinking quo vadis science? discovery and explanation time and space: freed hostages coherence and diversity computational science explaining ourselves away the efficiency of science exploring the virtual quo vadis philosophy? the language of wisdom in scientific disguise who needs philosophy? and what for? art(ifacts) and aesthetic processes making and perceiving art and language impatience and autarchy the copy is better than the original a nose by any other name crying wolf started early meta-literature writing as co-writing the end of the great novel libraries, books, readers why don't people read books? topos uranikos distributed the sense of design drawing the future breakaway convergence and divergence the new designer designing the virtual politics: there was never so much beginning the commercial democracy of permissiveness how did we get here? political tongues can literacy lead politics to failure? crabs learned how to whistle a world of worlds of tribal chiefs, kings, and presidents rhetoric and politics judging justice the programmed parliament a battle to be won "theirs not to reason why" the first war of the civilization of illiteracy war as practical experience the institution of the military from the literate to the illiterate war the nintendo war (a cliché revisited) the look that kills book five the interactive future: individual, community, and society in the age of the web transcending literacy being in language the wall behind the wall the message is the medium from democracy to media-ocracy self-organization the solution is the problem. or is the problem the solution? from possibilities to choices coping with choice trade-off learning from the experience of interface a sense of the future cognitive energy literacy is not all it's made out to be networks of cognitive energy the university of doubt interactive learning footing the bill a wake-up call consumption and interaction unexpected opportunities foreword no other time than ours has had more of the future and less of the past in it. the heat and beat of network interactions and the richness of multimedia and virtual reality reflect this time more than do the pages you are about to read. i wish i could put in your hands the new book, suggested on the cover, as the first page following all those that make up the huge library of our literate accumulation of knowledge. let's us imagine that it exists. as i see it, the book would read your mind.as you pause on a thought and start formulating questions. it should enable you to come closer to the persons whose thoughts are mentioned here, either through further investigation of their ideas or by entering into a dialogue with them. we would be able to interact with many of the individuals making this fascinating present happen. the emergence of a new civilization, freed from constraints borne by its members during a time to which we must bid farewell-this is the subject of the book. science and technology are themes of this intellectual expedition, but the subject is the ever-changing human being. the civilization we are entering is no promised land, make no mistake about that. but it is a realm of challenge. tentative upon entering the territory of new possibilities, we have no choice but to go ahead. some-the pioneers, inventors, entrepreneurs, even politicians of the so-called third wave-rush into it, unable to contain an optimism based on their own opportunistic enthusiasm (as real or fake as it might be). the young lead, unburdening themselves of the shackles of an education which made the least contribution to their innovative accomplishments. others hesitate. they don't even notice the chains of a literate heritage, a heritage that buffers them, as it buffers us all at various times, from the often disquieting changes we experience at all levels of our existence. in the palace of books and eternity, we were promised love and beauty, prosperity, and above all permanence. disinheriting ourselves from all that was, we are nostalgic for our lost sense of continuity and security. still, we cannot help feeling that something very different from what we used to expect is ahead of us. we are excited, though at times apprehensive. it might be that the cutting-edge language and look of wired, the magazine of the netizens, is more appropriate to the subject than is the elaborate prose of this book. but this is not yet another product of the cottage industry of predictions, as we know them from naisbitt, gilder, or the tofflers. to explain without explaining away the complexity of this time of change was more important to me than to ride the coattails of today's sound-byte stars. solid arguments that suggest possibilities fundamentally different from what they are willing to accept, or even entertain, make for a more deeply founded optimism. if you get lost along the intellectual journey to which this book invites, it can be only my fault. if you agree with the argument only because it tired you out, it will be my loss. but if you can argue with me, and if your argument is free of prejudice, we can continue the journey together. try reaching me, as my thoughts try to reach you through this book. unfortunately, i am not yet able to hand you that ideal book that would directly connect us. short of this, here is an address you can use: nadin@utdallas.edu. let's keep on touch! literacy in a changing world thinking about alternatives preoccupation with language is, in fact, preoccupation with ourselves as individuals and as a species. while many concerns, such as terrorism, aids, poverty, racism, and massive migration of populations, haunt us as we hurry to achieve our portion of well-being, one at least seems easier to allay: illiteracy. this book proclaims the end of literacy, as it also accounts for the incredible forces at work in our restlessly shifting world. the end of literacy-a chasm between a not-so-distant yesterday and the exciting, though confusing, tomorrow-is probably more difficult to understand than to live with. reluctance to acknowledge change only makes things worse. we notice that literate language use does not work as we assume or were told it should, and wonder what can be done to make things fit our expectations. parents hope that better schools with better teachers will remedy the situation. teachers expect more from the family and suggest that society should invest more in order to maintain literacy skills. professors groan under the prospect of ill-prepared students entering college. publishers redefine their strategies as new forms of expression and communication vie for public attention and dollars. lawyers, journalists, the military, and politicians worry about the role and functions of language in society. probably most concerned with their own roles in the social structure and with the legitimacy of their institutions, they would preserve those structures of human activity that justify literacy and thus their own positions of power and influence. the few who believe that literacy comprises not only skills, but also ideals and values, say that the destiny of our civilization is at stake, and that the decline in literacy has dreadful implications. opportunity is not part of the discourse or argument. the major accomplishment of analyzing illiteracy so far has been the listing of symptoms: the decrease in functional literacy; a general degradation of writing skills and reading comprehension; an alarming increase of packaged language (clichés used in speeches, canned messages); and a general tendency to substitute visual media (especially television and video) for written language. parallel to scholarship on the subject, a massive but unfocused public opinion campaign has resulted in all kinds of literacy enterprises. frequently using stereotypes that in themselves affect language quality, such enterprises plead for teaching adults who cannot read or write, for improving language study in all grades, and for raising public awareness of illiteracy and its various implications. still, we do not really understand the necessary character of the decline of literacy. historic and systematic aspects of functional illiteracy, as well as language degradation, are minimally addressed. they are phenomena that affect not only the united states. countries with a long cultural tradition, and which make the preservation and literate use of language a public institution, experience them as well. my interest in the subject of illiteracy was triggered by two factors: the personal experience of being uprooted from an east european culture that stubbornly defended and maintained rigid structures of literacy; and involvement in what are commonly described as new technologies. i ended up in the usa, a land of unstructured and flawed literacy, but also one of amazing dynamics. here i joined those who experienced the consequences of the low quality of education, as well as the opening of new opportunities. the majority of these are disconnected from what is going on in schools and universities. this is how and why i started thinking, like many others, about alternatives. my mayflower (if i may use the analogy to the pilgrims) brought me to individuals who do many things-shop, work, play or watch sports, travel, go to church, even love-with an acute sense of immediacy. worshippers of the instant, my new compatriots served as a contrast to those who, on the european continent i came from, conscientiously strive for permanency-of family, work, values, tools, homes, appliances, cars, buildings. in contrast, the usa is a place where everything is the present, the coming moment. not only television programs and advertisements made me aware of this fact. books are as permanent as their survival on bestseller lists. the market, with its increasingly breathtaking fluctuations, might today celebrate a company that tomorrow disappears for good. commencement ceremonies, family life, business commitments, religious practice, succeeding fashions, songs, presidents, denture creams, car models, movies, and practically everything else embody the same obsession. language and literacy could not escape this obsession with change. because of my work as a university professor, i was in the trenches where battles of literacy are fought. that is where i came to realize that a better curriculum, multicultural or not, or better paid teachers, or cheaper and better books could make a difference, but would not change the outcome. the decline of literacy is an encompassing phenomenon impossible to reduce to the state of education, to a nation's economic rank, to the status of social, ethnic, religious, or racial groups, to a political system, or to cultural history. there was life before literacy and there will be life after it. in fact, it has already begun. let us not forget that literacy is a relatively late acquisition in human culture. the time preceding writing is % of the entire story of the human being. my position in the discussion is one of questioning historic continuity as a premise for literacy. if we can understand what the end of literacy as we know it means in practical terms, we will avoid further lamentation and initiate a course of action from which all can benefit. moreover, if we can get an idea of what to expect beyond the safe haven now fading on the horizon, then we will be able to come up with improved, more effective models of education. at the same time, we will comprehend what individuals need in order to successfully ascertain their manifold nature. improved human interaction, for which new technologies are plentifully available, should be the concrete result of this understanding of the end of the civilization of literacy. the first irony of any publication on illiteracy is that it is inaccessible to those who are the very subject of the concern of literacy partisans. indeed, the majority of the millions active on the internet read at most a -sentence short paragraph. the attention span of students in high school and universities is not much shorter than that of their instructors: one typed page. legislators, no less than bureaucrats, thrive on executive summaries. a -second tv spot is many times more influential than a -column in- depth article. but those who give life and dynamics to reality use means other than those whose continued predominance this book questions. the second irony is that this book also presents arguments which are, in their logical sequence, dependent on the conventions of reading and writing. as a medium for constituting and interpreting history, writing definitely influences how we think and what we think about. i wondered how my arguments would hold up in an interactive, non-linear medium of communication, in which we can question each other, and which also makes authorship, if not irrelevant, the last thing someone would worry about. since i have used language to think through this book, i know that it would make less sense in a different medium. this leads me to state from the outset-almost as self-encouragement-that literacy, whose end i discuss, will not disappear. for some, literacy studies will become a new specialty, as sanskrit or ancient greek has become for a handful of experts. for others, it will become a skill, as it is already for editors, proofreaders, and professional writers. for the majority, it will continue in literacies that facilitate the use and integration of new media and new forms of communication and interpretation. the utopian in me says that we will find ways to reinvent literacy, if not save it. it has played a major role in leading to the new civilization we are entering. the realist acknowledges that new times and challenges require new means to cope with their complexity. reluctance to acknowledge change does not prevent it from coming about. it only prevents us from making the best of it. probably my active practice of literacy has been matched by all those means, computer-based or not, for coping with complexity, to whose design and realization i contributed. this book is not an exercise in prophesying a brave new world of people happy to know less but all that they have to know when they need to. neither is it about individuals who are superficial but who adapt more easily to change, mediocre but extremely competitive. its subject is language and everything pertaining to it: family and sexuality, politics, the market, what and how we eat, how we dress, the wars we fight, love, sports, and more. it is a book about ourselves who give life to words whenever we speak, write, or read. we give life to images, sounds, textures, to multimedia and virtual reality involving ourselves in new interactions. transcending boundaries of literacy in practical experiences for which literacy is no longer appropriate means, ultimately, to grow into a new civilization. progressing towards illiteracy? here is as good a place as any to explain my perspective. language involves human beings in all their aspects: biology, sense of space and time, cognitive and manual skills, emotional resources, sensitivity, tendency to social interaction and political organization. but what best defines our relation to language is the pragmatics of our existence. our continuous self-constitution through what we do, why we do, and how we do all we actually do-in short, human pragmatics-involves language, but is not reducible to it. the pragmatic perspective i assume originated with charles sanders peirce. when i began teaching in the usa, my american colleagues and students did not know who he was. the semiotic implications of this text relate to his work. questioning how knowledge is shared, peirce noticed that, without talking about the bearers of our knowledge-all the sign carriers we constitute-we would not be able to figure out how results of our inquiries are integrated in our deeds, actions, and theories. language and the formation and expression of ideas is unique to humans in that they define a part of the cognitive dimension of our pragmatic. we seem endowed with language, as we are with hearing, sight, touch, smell, and taste. but behind the appearance is a process through which human self-constitution led to the possibility and necessity of language, as it led to the humanization of our senses. furthermore, it led to the means by which we constitute ourselves as literate as the pragmatics of our existence requires under ever-changing circumstances. the appearance is that literacy is a useful tool, when in fact it results in the pragmatic context. we can use a hammer or a computer, but we are our language. the experience of language extends to the experience of the logic it embodies, as well as to that of the institutions that language and literacy made possible. these, in turn, influence what we are and how we think, what we do and why we do. so does every tool, appliance, and machine we use, and so do all the people with whom we interact. our interactions with people, with nature, or with artifacts we ourselves generated further affect the pragmatic self-constitution of our identity. the literate experience of language enhanced our cognitive capabilities. consequently, literacy became larger than life. much is covered by the practice of literacy: tradition, culture, thoughts and feelings, human expression through literature, the constitution of political, scientific, and artistic programs, ethics, the practical experience of law. in this book, i use a broad definition of literacy that reflects the many facets it has acquired over time. those readers who think i stretch the term literacy too far should keep in mind all that literacy comprises in our culture. in contrast, illiteracy, no matter what its cause or what other attributes an individual labeled illiterate has, is seen as something harmful and shameful, to be avoided at any price. without an understanding that encompasses our values and ways of thinking, we cannot perceive how a civilization can progress to illiteracy. many people are willing to be part of post- literate society, but by no means are they willing to be labeled members of a civilization qualified as illiterate. by civilization of illiteracy i mean one in which literate characteristics no longer constitute the underlying structure of effective practical experiences. furthermore, i mean a civilization in which no one literacy dominates, as it did until around the turn of the century, and still does. this domination takes place through imposition of its rules, which prevent practical experiences of human self-constitution in domains where literacy has exhausted its potential or is impotent. in describing the post-literate, i know that any metaphor will do as long as it does not call undue attention to itself. what counts is not the provocativeness but that we lift our gaze, determined to see, not just to look for the comforting familiar. this civilization of illiteracy is one of many literacies, each with its own characteristics and rules of functioning. some of such partial literacies are based on configurational modes of expression, as in the written languages of japan, china, or korea; on visual forms of communication; or on synesthetic communication involving a combination of our senses. some are numerical and rely on a different notation system than that of literacy. the civilization of illiteracy comprises experiences of thinking and working above and beyond language, as mathematicians from different countries communicating perfectly through mathematical formulae demonstrate. or as we experience in activities where the visual, digitally processed, supports a human pragmatics of increased efficiency. even in its primitive, but extremely dynamic, deployment, the internet embodies the directions and possibilities of such a civilization. this brings us back to literacy's reason for being: pragmatics expressed in methods for increasing efficiency, of ensuring a desired outcome, be this in regard to a list of merchandise, a deed, instructions on how to make something or to carry out an act, a description of a place, poetry and drama, philosophy, the recording and dissemination of history and abstract ideas, mythology, stories and novels, laws, and customs. some of these products of literacy are simply no longer necessary. that new methods and technologies of a digital nature effectively constitute an alternative to literacy cannot be overemphasized. i started this book convinced that the price we pay for the human tendency to efficiency-that is, our striving for more and more at an ever cheaper price-is literacy and the values connected to it as represented by tradition, books, art, family, philosophy, ethics, among many others. we are confronted with the increased speed and shorter durations of human interactions. a growing number and a variety of mediating elements in human praxis challenge our understanding of what we do. fragmentation and interconnectedness of the world, the new technology of synchronization, the dynamics of life forms or of artificial constructs elude the domain of literacy as they constitute a new pragmatic framework. this becomes apparent when we compare the fundamental characteristics of language to the characteristics of the many new sign systems complementing or replacing it. language is sequential, centralized, linear, and corresponds to the stage of linear growth of humankind. matched by the linear increase of the means of subsistence and production required for the survival and development of the species, this stage reached its implicit potential. the new stage corresponds to distributed, non-sequential forms of human activity, nonlinear dependencies. reflecting the exponential growth of humankind (population, expectations, needs, and desires), this new stage is one of alternative resources, mainly cognitive in nature, compensating for what was perceived as limited natural means for supporting humankind. it is a system of a different scale, suggestively represented by our concerns with globality and higher levels of complexity. therefore, humans can no longer develop within the limitations of an intrinsically centralized, linear, hierarchic, proportional model of contingencies that connect existence to production and consumption, and to the life-support system. alternatives that affect the nature of life, work, and social interaction emerge through practical experiences of a fundamentally new condition. literacy and the means of human self-constitution based on it reached their full potential decades ago. the new means, which are not as universal (i.e., as encompassing) as language, open possibilities for exponential growth, resulting from their connectivity and improved involvement of cognitive resources. as long as the world was composed of small units (tribes, communities, cities, counties), language, despite differences in structure and use, occupied a central place. it had a unifying character and exercised a homogenizing function within each viable political unit. the world has entered the phase of global interdependencies. many local languages and their literacies of relative, restricted significance emerge as instruments of optimization. what takes precedence today is interconnectivity at many levels, a function for which literacy is ill prepared. citizens become netizens, an identity that relates them to the entire world, not only to where they happen to live and work. the encompassing system of culture broke into subsystems, not just into the "two cultures" of science and literacy that c.p. snow discussed in , hoping idealistically that a third culture could unite and harmonize them. market mechanisms, representative of the competitive nature of human beings, are in the process of emancipating themselves from literacy. where literate norms and regulations still in place prevent this emancipation-as is the case with government activity and bureaucracies, the military, and legal institutions-the price is expressed in lower efficiency and painful stagnation. some european countries, more productive in impeding the work of the forces of renewal, pay dearly for their inability to understand the need for structural changes. united or not in a europe of broader market opportunities, member countries will have to free themselves from the rigid constraints of a pragmatic framework that no longer supports their viability. conflicts are not solved; solutions are a long time in coming. one more remark before ending this introduction. it seems that those who run the scholarly publishing industry are unable to accept that someone can have an idea that does not originate from a quotation. in keeping with literacy's reliance on authority, i have acknowledged in the references the works that have some bearing on the ideas presented in this book. few, very few indeed, are mentioned in the body of the text. the line of argument deserves priority over the stereotypes of referencing. this does not prevent me from acknowledging here, in addition to leibniz and peirce, the influence of thinkers and writers such as roberto maturana, terry winograd, george lakoff, lotfi zadeh, hans magnus enzensberger, george steiner, marshall mcluhan, ivan illich, yuri m. lotman, and even baudrillard, the essayist of the post-industrial. if i misunderstood any of them, it is not because i do not respect their contributions. seduced by my own interest and line of reasoning, i integrated what i thought could become solid bricks into a building of arguments which was to be mine. i am willing to take blame for its design and construction, remaining thankful to all those whose fingerprints are, probably, still evident on some of the bricks i used. in the years that have gone by since i started thinking and writing about the civilization of illiteracy, many of the directions i brought into discussion are making it into the public domain. but i should be the last to be surprised or unhappy that reality changed before i was able to finish this book, and before publishers could make up their minds about printing it. the internet was not yet driving the stock market, neither had the writers of future shock had published their books churning prophecies, nor had companies made fortunes in multimedia when the ideas that go into this book were discussed with students, presented in public lectures, outlined to policy-makers (including administrators in higher education), and printed in scholarly journals. on starting this book, i wanted it to be not only a presentation of events and trends, but a program for practical action. this is why, after examination of what could be called the theoretical aspects, the focus shifts to the applied. the book ends with suggestions for practical measures to be considered as alternatives to the beaten path of the bandage method that only puts off radical treatment, even when its inevitability is acknowledged. yes, i like to see my ideas tested and applied, even taken over and developed further (credit given or not!). i would rather put up with a negative outcome in discussions following publication of this book, than have it go unnoticed. book one the chasm between yesterday and tomorrow contrasting characters the information produced in our time, in one day, exceeds that of the last years. what this means can be more easily understood by giving some life to this dry evaluation originating from people in the business of quantifying data processing. zizi, the hairdresser, and her companions exemplify today's literate population. portrayed by hans magnus enzensberger, she is contrasted to pascal, who at the age of sixteen had already published his work on conic sections, to hugo grotius, who graduated from college at fifteen, and to melanchton, who at the age of twelve was a student at the once famous heidelberg university. zizi knows how to get around. she is like a living address on the internet at its current stage of development: more links than content, perennially under construction. she continuously starts on new avenues, never pursuing any to the end. her well-being is supported by public money as she lives off all the social benefits society affords. zizi's conversations are about her taxes, and characters she reads about in magazines, sees on television, or meets on vacation. as superficial as such conversations can be, they are full of catch phrases associated or not with the celebrations of the day. her boyfriend, -year-old bruno g., graduated with a degree in political economy, drives a taxi cab, and still wonders what he wants to do in life. he knows the name of every soccer team that has won the championship since ; he knows by heart the names of the players, which coach was fired when, and every game score. melanchton studied reading, writing, latin, greek, and theology. he knew by heart many fragments from the classical writers and from the bible. the world he lived in was small. to explain its workings, one did not need to master mathematics or physics, but philosophy. since melanchton can no longer be subjected to multiple choice or to iq tests, we will never know if he could make it into college today. the question posed about all the characters introduced is a simple one: who is more ignorant, melanchton or zizi? enzensberger's examples are from germany, but the phenomena he brings to his readers' attention transcend national boundaries. he himself-writer, poet, publisher-is far from being an internet buff, although he might be as informed about it as his characters are. as opposed to many other writers on literacy and education, enzensberger confirms that the efficiency reached in the civilization of illiteracy (he does not call it that) makes it possible to extend adolescence well into what used to be the more productive time in the life of past generations. everyone goes to college-in some countries college education is a right. this means that over half of the young people enter some form of higher education. after graduating, they find out that they still don't know what they want. or, worse yet, that what they know, or are certified as knowing, is of no consequence to what they are expected to do. they will live, like zizi, from social benefits and will get extremely angry at anyone questioning society's ability to provide them. for them, efficiency of human practical experiences translate into the right to not worry whether they will ever contribute to this efficiency. while still students, they demand, and probably rightly so, that everything be to the point. the problem is that neither they nor their teachers can define what that means. what students get are more choices among less significant subjects. that, at least, is how it looks. they probably never finish a book from cover to cover. assignments are given to them in small portions, and usually with photocopied pages, which they are expected to read. a question-and-answer sheet is conveniently attached, with the hope that the students will read the pages to find the answers, and not copy them from more dedicated classmates. that zizi probably has a vocabulary as rich as that of a th-century scholar in the humanities can be assumed. that she likely uses fewer than , of these words only says that this is how much she needs in order to function efficiently. melanchton used almost all the words he knew. his work required mastery of literacy so that he could express every new idea prompted by the few new practical experiences of human self-constitution he was involved in or aware of. he spoke and wrote in three languages, two of which are used today only in the specialties they are part of. two or three sentences from a tourist guidebook or from a tape is all zizi needs for her next vacation in greece or italy. for her, travel is a practical experience as vital as any other. she knows the names of rock groups, and lip-syncs the songs that express her concerns: sex, drugs, loneliness. her memory of any stage performance or movie surpasses that of melanchton, who probably knew by heart the entire liturgy of the catholic church. like everyone else constituting their identities in the civilization of illiteracy, zizi knows what it takes to minimize her tax burden and how to use coupons. the rhythm of her existence is defined more by commercial than natural cycles. and she keeps refreshing her base of practical information. living in a time of change, this is her chance to beat the system and all the literate norms and constraints it imposes on her. melanchton, despite his literacy, would have been lost between two consecutive tax laws of our time, and even more between consecutive changes in fashion or music trends, or between consecutive versions of computer software, not to say chips. he belonged to a system appropriate to a stable world of relatively unchanging expectations. what he studied would last him a lifetime. zizi and bruno, as well as their friend helga-the third in enzensberger's text-live in a world of unsettled, heterogeneous information, based on ad hoc methods delivered by magazines, or through the internet, that one has only to scan or surf in order to find useful data. at this juncture, readers familiar with the world wide web, whether passionate about it or strongly against it, understand why i describe zizi as a living internet address. to derive some meaning from this description, and especially to avoid the appearance of drawing a caricature of the internet, we need to focus on the pragmatic context in which zizi constitutes herself and in which the internet is constituted as a global experience. the picture one gets from contrasting the famous melanchton to zizi the hairdresser is not exactly fair, as it would be unfair to contrast the library of alexandria to the internet. on the one hand, we have a tremendous collection representative of human knowledge (and the illusion of knowledge). on the other we have the embodiment of extremely effective methods for acquiring, testing, using, and discarding information required by human pragmatics. the world in which melanchton worked was limited to central europe and rome. news circulated mainly by word-of- mouth. melanchton, like everyone who was raised with and worked amid books, was subjected to less information than we are today. he did not need an intel inside computer or search engine to find what he wanted. he would not understand how anyone could replace the need for and pleasure of browsing by a machine called browser. his was a world of associations, not matches, no matter how successful. human minds, not machines, made up his cognitive world. literacy opened access to knowledge as long as this knowledge was compatible with the pragmatic structures it embodied and supported. the ozone hole of over- information broke the protective bubble of literacy. in the new pragmatic context, the human being, thirsty for data, seems at the mercy of the informational environment that shapes work, entertainment, life-in short, everything. access to study was far from being equal, or even close to some standard of fairness, in melanchton's time of obsession with excellence. information itself was very expensive. in order to become a hairdresser-were it possible and necessary years ago-zizi, as well as the millions who attend career training schools, would have had to pay much more for her training than she did in our age of unlimited equal access to mediocrity. knowledge was acquired through channels as diverse as family, schools, churches, and disseminated in very few books, or orally, or through imitation. individuals in melanchton's time formed a set of expectations and pursued goals that changed minimally over their lifetime, since the pragmatic context remained the same. this ended with the dynamic practical experiences of self-constitution that led to the pragmatic context of our day. ended also are the variety of forms of human cooperation and solidarity-as imperfect as they were-characteristic of a scale in which survival of the individual was essential for the survival and well-being of the community. they are replaced by a generalized sense of competition. not infrequently, this takes the form of adversity, socially acceptable when performed by literate lawyers, for instance, yet undesirable when performed by illiterate terrorists. more suggestive than precise, this description, in which zizi and melanchton play the leading characters, exemplifies the chasm between yesterday and today. a further examination of what is going on in our world allows the observation that literate language no longer exclusively, or even dominantly, affects and regulates day-to-day activities. a great amount of language used in the daily routine of people living in economically advanced countries was simply wiped out or absorbed in machine transactions. digital networks, connecting production lines, distribution channels, and points of sale spectacularly augment the volume and variety of such transactions. practical experiences of shopping, transportation, banking, and stock market transactions require literacy less and less. automation rationalized away the literate component of many activities. all over the world, regardless of the economic or technological level reached, communication-specific endeavors, such as advertisement, political campaigns, various forms of ceremonial (religious, military, athletic), make crystal clear that literate language use is subordinated to the function or purpose pursued. the developments under scrutiny affect surviving pre-literate societies-the nomadic, animistic population of sudan, the tribes of the brazilian amazon forests, remote populations of africa, asia, australia-as they affect the literate and post- literate. without going into the details of the process, we should be aware that commodities coming from such societies, including the commodity of labor, no less than their needs and expectations, are traded on the global market. in the african sahara, tv is watched-sets connected to car batteries-as much as in the high mountains of peru populated by illiterate incas. as virtual points of sale, the lands with pre-literate societies are traded in the futures markets as possible tourist resorts, or as a source of cheap labor. experiences of practical self-constitution as nomadic, animistic, and tribal are no longer confined to the small scale of the respective community. in the effective world of a global pragmatics of high efficiency, their hunger and misery shows up in ledgers as potential aid and cooperation programs. don't read here only greed and cynicism, rather the expression of reciprocal dependencies. aids on the african sub- continent and the ebola epidemics only capture the image of shared dangers. across the atlantic ocean, the plants of the disappearing amazon rain forest, studied for their healing potential, capture an image of opportunity. in such situations and locations, the pragmatics of literacy and illiteracy meet and interact. choose a letter and click images substitute text; sounds add rhythm or nuance; visual representations other than written words become dominant; animation introduces dynamics where written words could only suggest it. in technologically advanced societies, interactive multimedia (or hypermedia) combine visual, aural, dynamic, and structural representations. environments for personal exploration, organization, and manipulation of information proliferate in cd-rom formats, interactive games, and tutorial networks. high fidelity sound, rich video resources, computer graphics, and a variety of devices for individualized human interaction provide the technological basis for what emerges as a ubiquitous computing environment. the entire process can be provisionally summarized as follows: human cooperation and interaction corresponding to the complexity of the undertakings of our age is defined by expectations of high efficiency. relatively stable and well structured literate communication among the people involved is less efficient than rather fast and fragmentary contact through means other than those facilitated by, or based on, literacy. stereotyped, highly repetitive or well defined unique tasks, and the literate language associated with them, have been transferred to machines. unique tasks require strategies of specialization. the smaller the task assigned to each participant, the more effective the ways to carry it out at the expense of variety of forms and extent of direct human interaction, as well as at the expense of literacy-based interactions. accordingly, human self-constitution today involves means of expression and communication no longer based on or reducible to literacy. characteristics immanent in literacy affect cognitive processes, forms of human interaction, and the nature of productive effort to a lesser extent. nevertheless, the reshaping of human pragmatics does not take place by general agreement or without conflict, as will be pointed out more than once. while some fail to notice the decreased role of literacy and the deterioration of language in our life today, others surrender to illiteracy without even being aware of their surrender. we live in a world in which many people-especially those with more than undergraduate college education-complain about the low level of literacy while they simultaneously acquiesce to methods and necessities that make literacy less and less significant. furthermore, when invoking literacy, people maintain a nostalgia for something that has already ceased to affect their lives. their thinking, feeling, interpersonal relations, and expectations regarding family, religion, ethics, morals, art, dining, cultural and leisure activities already reflect the new illiterate condition. it is not a matter of personal choice, but a necessary development. the low level of literacy of those who receive an education from which society used to expect literate adults to graduate worries politicians, educators, and literacy professionals (writers, publishers, booksellers). they fear, probably for the wrong reasons, that people cannot live and prosper without knowing how to write or read at high levels of competence. what actually worries them is not that people write less well, or less correctly, or read less (some if at all), but that some succeed despite the odds. self-styled champions of literacy, instead of focusing on change, spend money, energy, and intelligence, not in exploring how to optimally benefit from change, but on how to stop an inexorable process. the state of affairs characteristic of the civilization of illiteracy did not come about overnight. norbert wiener's prophetic warning that we will become slaves of intelligent contraptions that take over intellectual faculties deserves more than a parenthetic reminder. some commentators point to the disruption of the sixties, which put the educational system all over the world in turmoil. the events of the sixties, as much as the new machines wiener discussed, are yet another symptom of, but not a reason for, the decline of literacy. the major hypothesis of this book is that illiteracy, in its relative terms mentioned so far, results from the changed nature of human practical experiences; that is, from the pragmatics corresponding to a new stage of human civilization. (i prefer to use pragmatics in the sense the greeks used it: pragma, for deeds, from prattein, to do.) regardless of our vocations-working in a large corporation or heading one's own business, farming, creating art, teaching language or mathematics, programming, or even participating in a university's board of trustees- we accept, even if with some reluctance, the rationalization of language. our lives take place increasingly in the impersonal world of stereotype discourse of forms, applications, passwords, and word processed letters. the internet, as world wide web, e-mail medium, data exchange, or chat forum effectively overrides constraints and limitations resulting from the participation of language in human pragmatics. our world is becoming more and more a world of efficiency and interconnected activities that take place at a speed and at a variety of levels for which literacy is not appropriate. still, complex interdependencies are reflected in our relation to language in general, and in our use of it, in particular. it seems that language is a key-at least one among many-to the mind, the reason for which artificial intelligence is interested in language. it also seems to be a major social ingredient. accordingly, no one should be surprised that once the status of language changes, there are also changes far beyond what we expect when we naively consider what a word is, or what is in a word or a rule of grammar, or what defines a text. a word on paper, one like the many on this page, is quite different from a word in the hypertext of a multimedia application or that of the web. the letters serve a different function. omit one from this page and you have a misspelling. click on one and nothing happens. click on a letter displayed on a web page and you might be connected to other signs, images, sounds, and interactive multimedia presentations. these changes, among others, are the implicit themes of this book and define the context for understanding why illiteracy is not an accident, but a necessary development. keeping up with faster living ours is a world of efficiency. although more obvious on the computer screen, and on the command buttons and touch-sensitive levers of the machines we rely quite heavily upon, efficiency expectations met in business and financial life insinuate themselves into the intimacy of our private lives as well. as a result of efficiency expectations, we have changed almost everything we inherited in our homes-kitchen, study, or bathroom-and redefined our respective social or family roles. we do almost everything others used to do for us. we cook (if warming up prefabricated dishes in a microwave oven still qualifies as cooking), do the laundry (if selecting dirty sheets or clothes by color and fabric and stuffing them into the machine qualifies as washing), type or desktop publish, transport (ourselves, our children). machines replaced servants, and we became their servants in turn. we have to learn their language of instructions and to cope with the consequences their use entails: increased energy demand, pollution, waste, and most important, dependence. ours is a world of brief encounters in which "how are you?" is not a question reflecting concern or expecting a real answer, but a formula. once it meant what it expressed and prefaced dialogue. now it is the end of interaction, or at best the introduction to a dialogue totally independent of the question. where everyone living within the model of literacy expected the homogeneous background of shared language, we now find a very fragmented reality of sub-languages, images, sounds, body gestures, and new conventions. despite the heavy investment society has made in literacy over hundreds of years, literacy is no longer adopted by all as a desired educational goal. neither is it actively pursued for immediate practical or long-term reasons. people seem to acknowledge that they need not even that amount of literacy imposed upon them by obligatory education. for quite a few-speech writers, editors, perhaps novelists and educators-literacy is indeed a skill which they aptly use for making a living. they know and apply rules of correct language usage. methods for augmenting the efficiency of the message they put in the mouths of politicians, soap-opera actors, businessmen, activists and many others in need of somebody to write (and sometimes even to think) for them are part of their trade. for others, these rules are a means of exploring the wealth of fiction, poetry, history, and philosophy. for a great majority, literacy is but another skill required in high school and college, but not necessarily an essential component of their current and, more important, future lives and work. this majority, estimated at ca. % of the population, believes that all one has to know is already stored for them and made available as an expected social service-mathematics in the cash register or pocket calculator, chemistry in the laundry detergent, physics in the toaster, language in the greeting cards available for all imaginable occasions, eventually incorporated, as spellers or writing routines, into the word processing programs they use or others use for them. four groups seem to have formed: those for whom literacy is a skill; those using it as a means for studying values based on literacy; those functioning in a world of pre- packaged literacy artifacts; and those active beyond the limitations of literacy, stretching cognitive boundaries, defining new means and methods of communication and interaction, constituting themselves in practical activities of higher and higher efficiency. these four groups are the result of changes in the condition of the human being in what was broadly (in fact, too broadly) termed post-industrial society. whether specifically identified as such or assuming labels of convenience, the conflict characteristic of this time of fundamental change has its locus in literacy; and more specifically in the direction of change towards the civilization of illiteracy. at first glance, it is exceedingly difficult to say whether language, as an instrument of continuity and permanence, is failing because the rhythm of existence has accelerated increasingly since the industrial revolution, or the rhythm of existence has accelerated because human interaction is no longer at the mercy of language. we do not know whether this acceleration is due to, or nourished by, changes in language and the way people use it, or if changes in language reflect this acceleration. it is quite plausible that the use of images, moreover of interactive multimedia and network-based exchange of complex data are more appropriate to a faster paced society than texts requiring more time and concentration. but it is less clear whether we use images and synesthetic means of expression because we want to be faster, and thus more efficient, or we can be faster and improve efficiency if we use such means. shorter terms of human interaction and, for example, the change in the status of the family have something in common. the new political condition of the individual in modern society also has something in common with the characteristics of human interaction and the means of this interaction. but again, we do not really know whether the new socio-economic dynamics resulted from our intention to accelerate interactions, or the acceleration in human interaction is only the background (or a marginal effect) of a more encompassing change of our condition under circumstances making this change necessary. my hypothesis is that a dramatic change in the scale of humankind and in the nature of the relation between humans and their natural and cultural environments might explain the new socio-economic dynamics. loaded literacy languages, or any other form of expression and communication, are meaningful only to the extent that they become part of our existence. when people do not know how to spell words that refer to their existence, we suspect that something related to the learning of spelling (usually the learner) does not function as we assumed it should. (obviously, literacy is more than spelling.) school, family, new habits-such as extensive television viewing, comics reading, obsessive playing of computer games, internet surfing, to name some of the apparent culprits-come under scrutiny. culture, prejudice, or fear of the unknown prevents us from asking whether spelling is still a necessity. cowardly conformity stops us short from suspecting that something might be wrong with language or with those literacy expectations deeply anchored in all known political programs thrown into our face when our vote is elicited. when spelling and phonetics are as inconsistent as they are in english especially, this suspicion led to the examination and creation of alternative alphabets and to alternative artificial languages, which we shall examine. but spelling fails even in languages with more consistent relations between pronunciation and writing. because we inherited, along with our reverence for language, a passive attitude regarding what is logically permissible under the guise of literacy, we do not question implicit assumptions and expectations of literacy. for instance, the belief that command of language enhances cognitive skills, although we know that cognitive processes are not exactly reducible to language, is accepted without hesitation. it is ascertained that literate people from no matter what country can communicate better and learn foreign languages more easily. this is not always the case. in reality, languages are rather loaded systems of conventions in which national biases and other inclinations are extensively embodied and maintained, and even propagated, through speech, writing, and reading. this expectation leads to well intended, though disputable, statements such as: "you can never understand one language until you understand at least two" (signed by searle). there is also the implication that literate people have better access to the arts and sciences. the reason for this is that language, as a universal means of communication, is consequently the only means that ultimately explains scientific theories. works of art, proponents of language argue, can be reduced to verbal description, or at least be better accessed through the language used to index them through labels, classifications, categories. another assumption (and prejudice) is that the level of performance in and outside language is in direct relation to competence acquired in literacy. this prejudice, from among all others, will come under closer scrutiny because, though literacy is declining, language use deviating from that normed by literacy takes astonishing forms. man proposes, man disposes knowledge of the connection between languages-taking the appearance of entities with lives of their own-and people constituting them-with the appearance of having unlimited control over their language-is essential for understanding the shift from a literacy-dominated civilization to one of multiple means of expression and communication. these means could be called languages if an appropriate definition of such languages (and the literacies associated with them) could be provided. in light of what has been already mentioned, the broader context of the changes in the status of literacy is the pragmatic framework of our existence. it is not only that the use of language has diminished or its quality decreased. rather, it is the acknowledgment of a very complex reality, of a biologically and culturally modified human being facing apparent choices difficult, if not impossible, to harmonize. life is faster paced, not because biological rhythms abruptly changed, but because a new pragmatic framework, of higher efficiency, came about. human interaction extends in our days beyond the immediate circle of acquaintances, or what used to be the family circle. this interaction is, however, more superficial and more mediated by other people and by various devices. the universe of existence seems to open as wide as the space we can explore-practically the whole planet, as well as the heavens. at the same time, the pressure of the narrower reality, of exceedingly specialized work, through whose product individual and social identification, as well as valuation take place, is stronger than ever before. on a different level, the individual realizes that the traditional mapping from one to few (family, friends, community) changes drastically. in a context of globality, the mapping extends to the infinity of those partaking in it. characteristic of the context of change in the status and function (communication, in particular) of literacy are fragmentation of everything we do or encounter and the need to coordinate. we become aware of the increased number and variety of stimuli and realize that previous explanations of their origin and possible impact are not satisfactory. decentralization of many, if not all, aspects of existence, paralleled by strong integrative forces at work, is also characteristic of the dynamics of change. it is not communication alone, as some believe, that shapes society. more encompassing effective forces, relatively independent of words, images, sounds, textures, and odors continuously directed at society's members, from every direction and with every imaginable purpose, define social dynamics. they define goals and means of communication as well. the gap between the performance of communication technology and the effectiveness of communication is symptomatic of the contradictory condition of contemporary humans. it often seems that messages have lives of their own and that the more communication there is, the less it reaches its address. less than two percent of all the information thrown into mass media communication reaches its audience. at this level of efficiency, no car would ever move, no plane could take off, babies could not even roll over in their cribs! the dependency of communication on literacy proved to be communication's strength. it delivered a potential audience. but it proved to be its weakness, too. the assumption that among literate people, communication not only takes place, but, based on the implied shared background, is always successful, was found to be wrong time and again. experiences such as wars, conflicts among nations, communities, professional groups (academia, a highly literate social group, is infamous in this respect), families and generations continuously remind us that this assumption is a fallacy. still we misinterpret these experiences. case in point: the anxiety of the business community over the lack of communication skills in the young people it employs. that the most literate segment of business is rationalized away in the massive re-engineering of companies goes unnoticed. we want to believe that business is concerned with fundamental values when its representatives discuss the difficulties mid-level executives have in articulating goals and plans for achieving them in speech or writing. the new structural forms emerging in today's economy show that business-people, as much as politicians and many other people troubled by the current state of literacy today, speak out of both sides of their mouths. they would like to have it both ways: more efficiency, which does not require or stimulate a need for literacy since literacy is not adapted to the new socio-economic dynamics, and the benefits of literacy, without having to pay for them. the reality is that they are all concerned with economic cycles, productivity, efficiency, and profit in trying to figure out what a global economy requires from them. re-engineering, which companies also called restructuring or downsizing, translates into efficiency expectations within an extremely competitive global economy. by all accounts, restructuring cut the literacy overhead of business. it replaced literate practical experiences of management and productive work with automated procedures for data processing and with computer-aided manufacturing. the process is far from over. it has just reached the usually placid working world of japan, and it might motivate europe's effort to regain competitiveness, despite all the social contracts in place that embody expectations of a past that will never return. in fact, all boils down to the recognition of a new status of language: that of becoming, to a greater extent than in its literate embodiment, a business tool, a means of production, a technology. the freeing of language from literacy, and the subsequent loss in quality, is only part of a broader process. the people opposing it should be aware that the civilization of illiteracy is also the expression of practical criticism in respect to a past pragmatic framework far from being as perfect as literacy advocates lead us to believe. the pragmatics of literacy established a frame of reference in respect to ownership, trade, national identity, and political power. distribution of ownership might not be new, but its motivations are no longer rooted in inheritance, rather in creativity and a selfish sense of business allegiance. one much circulated observation sums it up: if you think that the thousands of not yet fully vested microsoft programmers will miss their chance to join the club of millionaires to which their colleagues belong, think again! it is not for the sake of the owner of a business, or of a legendary entrepreneur, and certainly not for the sake of idealism. it is for their own sake that more and more young and less young people use their chance in this hierarchy-free, or freer, environment in which they constitute their identity. what motivates them are arguments of competitiveness, not national identity, political philosophy, or family pride. all these and many other structural aspects resulting from the acquired freedom from structural characteristics of a pragmatic context defined by literacy do not automatically make society better or fairer. but a distribution of wealth and power, and a redefinition of the goals and methods through which democracy is practiced is taking place. we know, too, that the coercion of writing was applied to what today we call minorities. since writing is less natural than speaking and bears values specific to a culture, it has alienated individuality. literacy implies the integration of minorities by appropriating their activity and culture, sometimes replacing their own with the dominant literacy in total disregard of their heritage. "if writing did not suffice to consolidate knowledge," observed claude lévi-strauss, "it was perhaps indispensable in affirming domination. [...] the fight against illiteracy is thus identical with the reinforcement of the control of the citizen by authority." i shall not go so far as to state that the current attempt to celebrate multiplicity and to recognize contradiction brought about by irreducible differences among races, cultures, and practical experiences is not the result of literate necessities. but without a doubt, developments peculiar to the civilization of illiteracy, as this becomes the background for heterogeneous human experiences and conflicting value systems, brought multiplicity to the forefront. and, what is more important, illiteracy builds upon the potential of this multiplicity. beyond the commitment to literacy what seems to be the issue of putting the past in the right perspective (with the appearance of historic revisionism) is actually the expression of pragmatic needs in regard to the present and the future. the subject, in view of its many implications, deserves a closer examination outside, but not in disregard of, the political controversy it has already stirred up. writing is a form of commitment that extends from the phoenician agreements and egyptian records, religious and legal texts on clay and in stone, to the medieval oath and later to contracts. written language encodes, at many levels (alphabet, sentence structure, semantics, etc.), the nature of the relation among those addressed in writing. a tablet that the egyptians used for identifying locally traded commodities addressed very few readers. a reduced scale of existence, work, and trade was reflected in very direct notation. for the given context, the tablets supported the expected efficiency. in the framework of the roman empire, labeling of construction materials-roof tiles, drainage pipes-distributed within and outside the empire, involved more elaborate elements. these materials were stamped during manufacture and helped builders select what matched their needs. more people were addressed. their backgrounds were more diverse: they functioned in different languages and in different cultural contexts. their practical experience as builders was more complex than that of egyptian dealers in grain or other commodities who operated locally. stamping construction materials signaled a commitment to fulfill building needs and expectations. over time, such commitments became more elaborate and separated themselves from the product. with literacy, they became formalized contracts covering various pragmatic contexts. they bear all the characteristics of literacy. they also become representative of the conflict between means of a literate nature and means appropriate to the levels of efficiency expected in the civilization of illiteracy. a short look at contracts as we experience them today reveals that contracts are based on languages of their own, hard to decipher by even the average literate person. they quantify economic expectations, legal provisions, and tax consequences. written in english, they are expected to address the entire world. in the european community, each of the member countries expects a contract to be formulated in its own language. consequently, delays and extra costs can make the transaction meaningless. actually, the contract, not only the packaging and distribution labels, could be provided in the universal language of machine-readable bar codes. ours is a pragmatic framework of illiteracy that results in the generation of languages corresponding to functions but pertinent to the fast-changing circumstances that make the activity possible in the first place. in a world of tremendous competition, fast exchange, and accelerated growth of new expectations, the contract itself and the mechanisms for executing it have to be efficient. relations to power, property, and national identity expressed in language and stabilized through the means of literacy were also embodied in myths, religions, poetry and literature. indeed, from the epic poems of ancient civilizations to the ballads of the troubadours and the songs of the minstrels, and to poetry and literature, references were made to property and feelings, to the living and the dead. records of life were kept and commitments were reiterated. today many literates despair at the thought that these are displaced by the dead poetry or prose of the computer-generated variety. it is unquestionable that information storage and access redefined the scope of commitments and historic records, and ultimately redefined memory. from whatever angle we look at language and literacy, we come back to the people who commit themselves in the practical experience of their self-constitution. while the relation of people to language is symptomatic of their general condition, to understand how and why this relation changes is to understand how and why human beings change. with the ideal of literacy, we inherited the illusion that to understand human beings is to understand human language. it is actually the other way around-if we understand language as a dynamic practical experience in its own right. there is a deeper level that we have to explore-that of the human activity through which we project our being into the reality of existence, and make it sensible and understandable to others. it is only in the act of expressing ourselves through work, contemplation, enjoyment, and wonder that we become what we are for ourselves and for others. under pragmatic circumstances characteristic of the establishment of the species and its history up to our time, this required language and led to the need for literacy. as a matter of fact, literacy can be seen as a form of commitment, one among the successive commitments that individuals make and the human species enters. for over , years, these circumstances seemed to be eternal and dominated our existence. but as humankind outgrows the pragmatics based on the underlying structure of literacy, means different from language, that is, means different from those constituting the framework of literacy and of literacy-based commitments become necessary. a moving target the context of the subject of change comprises also the terminology developed around it. the variation of the meanings assigned to the words literacy and illiteracy is symptomatic of the various angles from which they are examined. literacy, as someone said (i found this credited to both john ashcroft, once governor of missouri, and to henry a. miller) has been a moving target. it has reflected changes in criteria for evaluating writing and writing skills as the pragmatic framework of human activity changed through time. writing is probably more than , years old. and while the emergence of writing and reading are the premise for literacy, a notion of generalized literacy can be construed only in connection to the invention of movable type (during the th century in china, and the early th century in western europe), and even more so with the advent of the th century high-speed rotary press. within the mentioned time-frame, many changes in the understanding of what literacy connotes have come about. for those who see the world through the book (torah, bible, koran, upanishads, wu ching), literacy means to be able to read and understand the book, and thus the world. all practical rules presented in the book constitute a framework accessed either through literacy or oral tradition. in the middle ages, to be literate meant to know latin, which was perceived as the language of divine revelation. parallel to the religious, or religion-oriented, perspective of literacy, many others were acknowledged: social-how writing and reading constitute a framework for social interaction; economic-how writing and reading and other skills of comprehending maps, tables, and symbols affect people's ability to participate in economic life; educational-how literacy is disseminated; legal-how laws and social rules are encoded in order to ensure uniform social behavior. scholars have looked at literacy from all these perspectives. in doing so, they have foisted upon the understanding of literacy interpretations so diverse and so contradictory that to follow them is to enter a maze from which there is no escape. one of will rogers' lines was paraphrased as: "we are all illiterate, only about different things." the formula deserves closer examination because it defines another characteristic of the context for understanding the relative illiteracy of our times. the degree of illiteracy is difficult to quantify, but the result is easy to notice. everything carried into the self-constitution of the individual as warrior, lover, athlete, family member, educator or educated in literacy-based pragmatics is being replaced by illiterate means. nobody expected that an individual who reads tolstoy or shakespeare will be a better cook, or devise better military plans, or even be a better lover. nevertheless, the characteristics of literacy affected practically all pragmatic experiences, conferring upon them a unity and coherence we can only look back upon with nostalgia. champions of sexual encounters, as much as innovators in new technologies and olympic athletes are extremely efficient in their respective domains. peak performance increases as the average falls in the range of mediocrity and sub- mediocrity. in this book i will examine many aspects of literacy pertinent to what is usually associated with it: the publications people write and read, communication at the individual and social levels, as well as many aspects of human activity that we do not necessarily consider in relation to literacy-military, sports, sex and family, eating-but which nevertheless were influenced by the pragmatic framework that made literacy possible and necessary. with the evident demise of philosophy as the science of sciences, began fragmentation of knowledge. doubt that a common instrument of access to and dissemination of knowledge exists is replaced by certitude that it does not. a so-called third culture, in the opinion of the author who brought it to public attention, "consists of rendering visible the deeper meanings of our lives" in ways different from those of literary intellectuals. this is not c.p. snow's third culture of scientists capable of communicating with non-scientific intellectuals, but the illiterate scientific discourse that brings fascinating notions into the mainstream, via powerful metaphors and images (albeit in a trivialized manner). this is why the relation between science and literacy, as well as between philosophy and literacy, will be examined with the intention to characterize the philosophy and science of the civilization of illiteracy. but are we really equipped with the means of exploration and evaluation of this wide-ranging change? aren't we captive to language and literacy, and thus to the philosophic and scientific explanations based on them? we know that the system in place in our culture is the result of the logocratic view adopted. the testing of skills rated by score is to a great extent a measure of comprehension characteristic of the civilization of literacy. the new pragmatic framework requires skills related not only to language and literacy, but also to images, sounds, textures, motion, and virtual space and time. knowing this, we have to address the relation between a relatively static medium and dynamic media. we should look into how literacy relates to the visual, in general, and, in particular, to the controversial reality of television, of interactive multimedia, of artificial images, of networking and virtual reality. these are all tasks of high order, requiring a broad perspective and an unbiased viewpoint. most important is the comprehension of the structural implications of literacy. an understanding of the framework that led to literacy, and of the consequences that the new pragmatic framework of existence has on all aspects of our lives will help us understand how literacy influenced them. i refer specifically to religion, family, state, and education. in a world giving up the notion of permanency, god disappears for quite a number of people. still, there are many more churches, denominations, sects, and other religious factions (atheist and neo-pagan included) than at any other time. in the united states of america, people change life partners . times during their lifespan (if they ever constitute a family), and calculate the financial aspects of getting married and having children with the same precision that they use to calculate the expected return on an investment. the state has evolved into a corporation regulating the business of the nation, and is now judged on its economic achievements. presidents of states act as super-peddlers of major industries on whose survival employment depends. these heads of state are not shy about giving up the ideals anchored in literate discourse (e.g., human rights). but they will raise a big fuss when it comes to copyright infringement, especially of software. the irony is that copyright is difficult to define in respect to digital originals. through the literacy model, the state became a self- preserving bureaucratic machine rarely akin to the broad variety of options brought about by the pragmatic framework of the civilization of illiteracy. many more people than previous records mention become (or remain) illiterates after finishing the required years of schooling-a minimum of ten years-and even after graduating from college. some people know how to read; even how to write, but opt for scanning tv channels, playing games, attending sports events, or surfing the internet. aliteracy is also part of the broader change in the status of literacy. decisions to forego reading and writing are decisions in favor of different means of expression and communication. the new generation is more proficient in video games than in orthography. this generation will be involved in high-efficiency practical experiences structurally similar to the interactive toy and far removed from the expectation of correct writing. the internet shapes the choices of the new generation in terms of what they want to know, how, when, and for what purpose more than newspapers, books, and magazines, and even more than radio or television does. and even more than schools and colleges do. through its vast and expanding means and offerings, the internet connects the individual to the globe, instead of only talking about globality. networking, at many levels and in many ways, is related to the characteristics of our pragmatic framework. as rudimentary as it still is, networking excludes everything that is not fast- paced and to the point. can all these examples, part of the context of the discussion of literacy in our changing world, be interpreted as being in causal relation to the decline of literacy? that is, the less people are knowledgeable in reading and writing, or choose not to read or write, the less they believe in god or the more pagan they want to be? the more often they divorce, the less they marry or have children? the more they want or accept a bureaucratic machine to handle their problems, the more tv programs they watch and the more electronic games they play, the more they surf the infinite world of networks? no, not along this line of one-dimensional, linear, simplistic form of determinism. a multiplicity of factors, and a multiplicity of layers need to be considered. they are, however, rooted in the pragmatic framework of our continuous self- constitution. it is exhibited through the dynamics of shorter and faster interactions. it is embodied in the ever wider choices of ascertaining our identity. it takes the appearance of availabilities, fragmentation and global integration, of increased mediation. the dynamics described corresponds to the higher efficiency that a larger scale of human activity demands. to call attention to the multi-dimensionality of the process and to the many interdependencies, which we can finally uncover with the help of new technologies, is a first step. to evince their non-linearity, reflecting the meshing between what can be seen as deterministic and what is probably non-deterministic is another step in the argument of the book. without basing our discussion on human pragmatics, it would be impossible to explain why, despite all the effort and money societies invest in education, and all the time allocated for education-sometimes over a quarter of a lifetime-despite research of cognitive processes pertinent to literacy, people wind up less literate, but, surprisingly, not at all less efficient. some would argue-the late alan bloom, a crusader for culture and literacy, indeed a brilliant writer of the epilogue of human culture and nostalgia for it, already did-that without literacy, we are less effective as human beings. the debate over such arguments requires that we acknowledge changes in the status of human beings and of human societies, and that we understand what makes such changes unavoidable. the wise fox the world as it stands today, especially the industrialized world, is fundamentally different from the world of any yesteryear, the last decade and century, not to mention the past that seems more the time of story than of history. alan bloom's position, embraced by many intellectuals, is rooted in the belief that people cannot be effective unless they build on the foundation of historically confirmed values, in particular the great books. but we are at a point of divergences with no noticeably privileged direction, but with many, many options. this is not a time of crisis, although some want us to believe the contrary and are ready to offer their remedies: back to something (authority, books, some primitive stage of no-ego, or of the mushroom, i.e., psychedelic drugs, back to nature); or fast forward to the utopia of technocracy, the information age, the service society, even virtual reality or artificial life. humans are heuristic animals. our society is one of creativity and diversity, operating on a scale of human interaction to which we exponentially add new domains: outer space, whose dimensions can be measured only in light years, and whose period of observation extends over lifetimes; the microcosmos, mirroring the scale in the opposite direction of infinitesimal differentiations; the new continents of man-made materials, new forms of energy, genetically designed plants and animals, new genetic codes, and virtual realities to experience new spaces, new times, and new forms of mediation. networking, which at its current stage barely suggests things to come, can only be compared to the time electricity became widely available. cognitive energy exchanged through networks and focused on cooperative endeavors is part of what lies ahead as we experience exponential growth on digital networks and fast learning curves of efficient handling of their potential. the past corresponds to a pragmatic framework well adapted to the survival and development of humankind in the limited world of direct encounters or limited mediations. in terms pertinent to a civilization built around the notion of literacy, the current lower levels of literacy can be seen as symptomatic of a crisis, or even a breakdown. but what defines the new pragmatic context is the shift from a literacy- centered model to one of multiple, interconnected, and interconditioned, distributed literacies. it is well justified to repeat that some of the most enlightened minds overlook the pragmatics of bygone practice. challenged, confused, even scared by the change, they call for a journey to the past: back to tradition, to discipline, to the ethics of our forefathers, to old-time religion and the education that grew out of it, to permanence, and hopefully to stability. even those who wholeheartedly espouse evolutionary and revolutionary models seem to have a problem when it comes to literacy. all set to do away with authority, they have no qualms about celebrating the imperialism of the written word. other minds confess to difficulties in coping with a present so promising and, at the same time, so confusing in its structural contradictions. what we experience, from the extreme of moral turpitude to a disquieting sense of mediocrity and meaninglessness, nourishes skeptical, if not fatalistic, visions. the warning is out (again): we will end up destroying humankind! yet another part of the living present accepts the challenge without caring about the implications it entails. the people in this group give up their desire to understand what happens, as long as this makes life exciting and rewarding. hollywood thrives on this. so do the industries of digital smoke- and-mirrors, always a step from fame, and not much farther from oblivion. addresses on the internet fade as quickly as they are set up. the most promising links of yesterday show up on the monitor as a "sorry" message, as meaningful as their short- lived presence was. arguing with success is a sure recipe for failure. success deserves to be celebrated in its authentic forms that change the nature of human existence in our universe. the future suggested in the labels technocracy, information age, and service society might capture some characteristics of today's world, but it is limited and limiting. this future fails to accommodate the development of human activity at the new scale in terms of population, resources, adaptation, and growth it has reached. within this model, its proponents preserve as the underlying structure the current set of dependencies among the many parts involved in human activity, and a stubborn deterministic view of simplistic inclination. unreflected celebration of technocracy as the sole agent of change must be treated with the same suspicion as its demonization. the current participation of technology in human activity is indeed impressive. so are the extent of information processing and information mining, and the new relation between productive activities and services. to make sense of disparate data and from them form new productive endeavors is a formidable task. science, in turn, made available enormously challenging theories and extremely refined models of the world. but after all is done and said, these are only particular aspects of a much more encompassing process. the result is a pragmatic framework of a new condition. highly mediated work, distributed tasks, parallel modes, and generalized networking of rather loosely coordinated individual experiences define this condition. within this framework, the connection between input (for instance, work) and output (what results) is of a different order of magnitude tfrom that between the force applied on a lever and the outcome; or that between the energy necessary to accomplish useful tasks through engines or electric, or pneumatic devices, no matter how efficient, and the result. in addition, even the distinction between input and output becomes fuzzy. the wearable computer provides interoperability and interconnectedness-an increase in a person's heart rate can be a result of an increase in physical exertion or cause for communicating with a doctor's office or for alerting the police station (if an accident takes place). it might be that the next interaction will involve our genetic code. the capacity for language and the ability to understand its various implications are only relatively interdependent, and thus only relatively open to scrutiny and understanding. this statement, as personal as it sounds, and as much as it expresses probably less resignation than uncertainty, is crucial to the integrity of this entire enterprise. indeed, once within a language, one is bound to look at the world surrounding oneself from the perspective of that language as the medium for partial self-constitution and evaluation. participating in its dynamics affects what i am able to see and describe. this affects also what i am no longer able to perceive, what escapes my perception, or even worse, filters it to the point that i see only my own thoughts. this dual identity-observer and integral part of the observed phenomena-raises ethical, axiological, and epistemological aspects almost impossible to reconcile. since every language is a projection of ourselves-as participants in the human experience, yet as distinct instantiations of that experience-we do not see the world so much as ourselves in relation to it, ourselves in establishing our culture, and again ourselves in taming and appropriating the universe around us. the fox in saint-exupéry's the little prince says it much better: "one only understands the things one tames." "between us the rift" huge industrial complexes where an immense number of workers participate in the production of goods, and densely populated urban centers gravitating around factories, make up the image characteristic of industrial society. this image is strikingly different from the new reality of interconnected, yet decentralized, individual activities going well beyond telecommuting. various mediating elements contribute to increasingly efficient practical experiences of human self-constitution. the computer is one of the varied embodiments of these mediating elements, but by no means the only one. through its functions, such as calculation, word, image, and information processing, and control of manufacturing, it introduces many layers between individuals and the object of their actions. the technology of interconnecting provides means for distributive task strategies. it also facilitates parallel modes of productive work. this is a world of progressive decentralization and interoperative possibilities. all kinds of machines can be an address in this interconnected world. their operations can range from design tasks to computer-aided manufacturing. distributed work and cognitive functions pertinent to it afford practical experiences qualitatively different from the mechanical sequencing of tasks as we know it from industrial modes of production. obviously, large portions of africa, asia, and latin america, as well as part of the european and north american continents, do not necessarily fit this description in detail. industrial activities still constitute the dominant practical experience in the world. although nomadic and jungle tribes are part of this integrated world, the industrial revolution has not yet reached them all. in some cases, the stages leading to agriculture have not yet been attained. in view of the global nature of human life and activity today, i submit that despite the deep disparity in the economic and social evolution of various regions of the world, it is plausible to assume that centralized modes of production peculiar to industrial economies are not a necessary development. efficiency expectations corresponding to the global scale of human activity can be reached only by development strategies different from those embodied in the pragmatic framework of industrial activity. it is therefore probable that countries, and even subcontinents, not affected by the industrial revolution will not go through it. planners with an ecological bent even argue that developing countries should not take the path that led industrial nations to augment their population's living standard to the detriment of the environment or by depleting natural resources (a german manifest, ). industrial production and the related social structures rely on literacy. edmund carpenter formulated this quite expressively: "translated into gears and levers, the book became machine. translated into people, it became army, chain of command, assembly line...." his description, made in broad strokes, is to the point. at the beginning of the industrial revolution, children and women became part of the labor market. for the very limited operation one had to perform, no literacy was necessary; and women and children were not literate. still, the future development of the industrial society could not take place without the dissemination of literacy skills. for instance, industry made possible the invention, in , of the steel pen indispensable to the compulsory elementary education that was later instituted. the production of steel needles seemed to extend domesticity, but actually created the basis for the sweat trades following what louis mumford called carboniferous capitalism. gaslight and electricity expanded the time available for the dissemination of literacy skills. housing improvements made possible the building of the individual library. george steiner sees this as a turning point in the sense that a private context of the experience of the book was created. as far as national structures were concerned, phenomena characteristic of the industrial revolution cannot be understood outside the wider context of the formation and consolidation of nations. affirmation of national identity is a process intimately connected to the values and functions of literacy. the production process of the industrial age of mechanical machinery and electric power required not brute force, but qualified force. administrative and management functions required more literacy than work on the assembly line. but literacy projected its characteristics onto the entire activity, thus making a literate workforce desirable. the market it generated projected the condition of the industry in the structure of its transactions. the requirements for qualified work expanded to requirements for qualified market activities and resulted in the beginnings of marketing and advertising. that market was based on the recognition of national boundaries, i.e., boundaries of efficiency, self-sufficiency, and future growth offering markets of a size and complexity adequate to industrial output. nations replaced the coarse fragmentation of the world. they were no longer, as jean-marie guéhenno notices, a disguise of tribal structures, but a political space within which democracy could be established. progression from competing individual life and temporary congregation in an environment of survival of the fittest to tribal, communal, local, confederate, and national life is paralleled by progression in the forms and methods of human integration. the global scale of human activity characteristic of our age is not an extension of the linear, deterministic relations between those constituting a valid human entity and the life-support system, called environment, that structurally define industrial society. discontinuity in numbers (of people, resources, expectations, etc.), in the nature of the relations among people, in the forms of mediations that define human practical experiences is symptomatic of the depth and breadth of change. the end of nations, of democracy even, might be far off, but this end is definitory of the chasm before us. the united nations, which does not yet comprise the entire world, is a collection of over nations, and increasing. some are only island communities, or newly proclaimed independent countries brought about by social and political movements. of the over distinct territories, countries, and protectorates, very few (if any) are truly autarchic entities. despite never before experienced integration, our world is less the house of nations and discrete alliances among them, and more the civilization of a species in firm control (too firm, as some perceive) of other species. within the world, we know that there are people still coming out of an age of natural economy based on hunting, foraging, fishing, and rudimentary agriculture. while barter and the minimal language of survival is the only market process in such places, in reality, the world is already involved in global transactions. markets are traded in their entirety, more often than not without the knowledge of those comprising these markets. this only goes to show again the precarious nature of national structures. national independence, passionately fought for, is less a charter for the future than the expression of the memory of the past (authentic or fake). selling or buying extends to the entire economy, which while still at a stage difficult to entirely explain, is bound to change in a rhythm difficult to cope with by those supposed to control it, but inescapable in the context of world-wide market. that literacy and national identity share in this condition should not surprise anyone. malthus revisited the malthusian principle ( ) related growth of populations (geometric) to food supply increases (arithmetic): "population, when unchecked, increases in a geometrical ratio. subsistence increases only in an arithmetical ratio." the weakness of the principle is probably its failure to acknowledge that the equation of mankind has more than the two variables it considers: population and food supply. the experience of extensive use of natural resources, in particular through farming, is only one among an increasing number of experiences. human beings constitute their own reality not only as one of biological needs, but also of cultural expectations, growing demands, and creativity. these eventually affect changes in what were believed to be primary needs and instincts. in many ways, a great deal of previously acknowledged sources of protein are exhausted. but in an ever more impressive proportion, the acceptable realm of sources of nutrition-proteins included-has been expanded so as to include the artificial. hunting and gathering wild plants (not to mention scavenging, which seems to predate hunting) were appropriate when linear, sequential strategies of survival defined human behavior; so were herding and agriculture, a continuation of foraging under circumstances of changed subsistence strategies. language was formed, and then stabilized, in connection to this linear form of praxis. linearity simply reflects the fact that one person is less effective than two, but also that one's needs are smaller than those of several. the experience of self- constitution in language preserves linearity. this preservation of linearity extends as long as the scale of the community and its needs and wants allowed for proportional interaction among its individuals and the environment of their existence. industrial society is probably the climax of this optimization effort. if the issue were only to feed mankind, the population census (over five billion people on record as of the moment these pages are being written, though less than four billion when i started) and the measure of resources would not yet indicate a new scale. but the issue is to accommodate geometrically growing populations and exponentially (i.e., non-linearly) diversifying expectations. such expectations relate to a human being celebrating higher average ages, and an extended period of active life. we change anatomically, not necessarily for the better: we see and hear less well and have lower physical abilities. our cognitive behavior and our patterns of social interaction change, too. these changes reflect, among other things, the transition from direct interaction and co-presence to indirect, mediated forms of the practical self-constitution of the human being. the sequential nature of language, in particular its embodiment in literacy, no longer suits human praxis as its universal measure. the strategies of linearization introduced through the experience of literacy were acceptable when the resulting efficiency accommodated lower and less differentiated expectations. they are now replaced by more efficient, intrinsically non-linear strategies made possible by literacies structurally different from those rooted in the practice of so-called natural language. accordingly, literacy loses its primacy. new literacies emerge. instead of a stable center and limited choice, a distributed and variable configuration of centers and wide choice connect and disconnect areas of common or disjoint interest. there are still national ambitions, huge factories to be built, cities to be erected and others to be expanded, highways to be widened in order to accommodate more intercity traffic, and airports to be constructed so that more airplanes can be used for national and international travel. the inertia of past pragmatics has not yet been annihilated by the dynamics of a fundamental change of direction. still, an integrated, yet decentralized, universe of work and living has been taking shape and will continue to do so. interconnection made possible by digital technology, first of all, opens a wide range of possibilities for reshaping social life, political institutions, and our ability to design and produce goods. our own ability to mediate, to integrate parts and services resulting from specialized activities is supported by machines that enhance our cognitive characteristics. captives to literacy probably the most shocking discovery we sometimes make is that, in order to be able to undertake new experiences, we need to forget, to break the curse of literate memory, and to immerse ourselves in the structurally amnesiac systems of signs corresponding to and addressing our senses. nathaniel hawthorne's short story "earth's holocaust" was prophetic in this sense. in this parable, the people of a new world (obviously the united states of america) bring all the books they inherited from the old world to a great bonfire. theirs is not an exercise in mindless book-burning. they conscientiously discard all the rules and ideas passed down through millennia that governed the world and the life they left behind. old ideas, as well as new ones, would have to prove their validity in the new context before they would be accepted. indeed, the awareness brought about by theories of the physical world, of the mind, of our own biogenetic condition made possible practical experiences of self-constitution that are not like anything experienced by humans before our time. the realization of relativity, of the speed of light, of micro- and macro-structures, of dynamic forces and non-linearity is already translated in new structures of interactions. our systems of interconnection- through electric energy, telephone (wired and cellular), radio, television, communication, computer networks-function at speeds comparable to that of light. they integrate dynamic mechanisms inspired by genetics, physics, molecular biology, and our knowledge of the micro- and macro-structure. our life cycle seems to accept two different synchronizing mechanisms: one corresponding to our natural condition (days, nights, seasons), the other corresponding to the perceived scale and to our striving towards efficiency. the two are less and less dependent, and efficiency seems to dominate nature. discovery of the world in its expanded comprehensive geographic dimensions required ships and planes. it also required the biological effort to adapt and the intellectual effort to understand various kinds of differences. in outer space, this adaptation proves to be even more difficult. in a world in a continuous flux of newer and newer distinctions, people constitute, instead of one permanent and encompassing literacy, several literacies, none of which bears the status of (quasi)eternal. differentiation of human experience is so far reaching that it is impossible to reduce the variety to one literate language. in the process of building rational, interpretive methods and establishing a body of knowledge that can be tested and practically applied, people often discard what did not fit in the theories they advanced, what did not obey the laws that these theories expressed. this was a necessary methodology that resulted in the progress we enjoy today. but it was also a deceptive method because what could not be explained was omitted. where literacy was instilled, non-linguistic aspects-such as the irreducible world of magic, mystery, the esoteric (to name a few)-were done away with. commenting upon the adventures of huckleberry finn, illich and sanders pointed out that there is a whole world in twain's novel that is inaccessible to the illiterate, but also a world of folklore and superstition that cannot be understood by those hostage to the beautiful kingdom of literacy. folklore in many countries, and superstition, and mystery in all the varieties corresponding to human practical self-constitution are definitely areas from which we might gain better insight into life past, present, and future. they are part of the context and should not be left out, even though they may belong to the epoch before literacy. all in all, since language was and still is the most comprehensive testimony to (and participant in) our experience as human beings, we may want to see whether its crisis says something about our own permanence and our own prejudices concerning the species. after all, why, and based on what arguments, do we see ourselves as the only permanence in the universe and the highest possible achievement of evolution? literacy freed us in many respects. but it also made us prisoners of a number of prejudices, not the least a projection of self-awareness in direct contradiction to our own experience of never-ending change in the world. the epitome of the civilization of illiteracy in the opinion of foe and friend alike, america (the name under which the united states of america, appropriating the identifier of the two continents comprising the new world) epitomizes many of the defining characteristics of today's world: market oriented, technologically driven, living on borrowed means (financial and natural resources), competitive to the extreme of promoting adversarial relations, and submitting, in the name of democracy and tolerance, to mediocrity, demagoguery, and opportunism. americans are seen as boastful, boorish, unrealistic, naive, primitive, hypocritical, and obsessed with money. even to some of its most patriotic citizens, the usa appears to be driven by political opportunism, corruption, and bigotry. as still others perceive the usa, it is captive to militarism and prey to the seductive moral poison of its self-proclaimed supremacy. at times it looks like the more it fails in some of its policies, the more it wants to hear declarations of gratitude and hymns of glory, as in john adams' lines: "the eastern nations sink, their glory ends/ and empires rise where sun descends." to the peoples just awaking from the nightmare of communism, the american political slogans have a familiar, though frightening, self-delusive ring. on the other hand, americans are credited with extraordinary accomplishments in technology, science, medicine, the arts, literature, sports, and entertainment. they are appreciated as friendly, open, and tolerant. their willingness to engage in altruistic projects (programs for the poor and for children all over the world), indeed free from discrimination, makes for a good example to people of other nations. patriotism does not prevent americans from being critical of their own country. to the majority of the world, america represents a vivid model of liberal democracy in action within a federation of states united by a political system based on expectations of balance among local, state, and federal functions. jean jacques servan-schreiber once made headlines writing about the american challenge (le défi américain), more or less about the danger of seeing the world americanized. downtown frankfurt (on the river main) is called mainhattan because its skyscrapers recall those of the island between the hudson and east rivers. the disneyland near paris, more of an import (the french government wanted it badly) than an export product, was called a "cultural chernobyl." tourists from all over the crumbled soviet empire are no longer taken to lenin's mausoleum but to moscow's mcdonald's. the japanese, reluctant to import american-made cars and supercomputers, or to open their markets to agricultural goods (except marbled beef), will bend over backwards for baseball. add to all this the symbolism of blue jeans, madonna or heavy metal (as music or comic books), coca-cola, the television series dallas, the incessant chomping on chewing gum and bubble-gum popping, texan boots, and the world-wide sneaker craze, and you have an image of the visible threat of americanization. but appearance is deceitful. taken out of their context, these and many other americanized aspects of daily life are only exotic phenomena, easy to counteract, and indeed subject to counteraction. italians protested the culture of fast food near the piazza d'espagna in rome (where one fast food establishment rented space) by giving out free spaghetti carbonara and pizza. (they were unaware of the irony in this: the biggest exporter of pizza restaurants is no longer italy, but the usa.) the rightist russian movement protested mcdonald's by touting national dishes, the good old high-calorie menu of times when physical effort was much greater than in our days (even in that part of the world). the germans push native lederhosen and dirndls over blue jeans. the german unions protest attempts to address structural problems in their economy through diminishing social benefits with a slogan that echoes like a hollow threat: american conditions will be met by a french response, by which they mean that strikes will paralyze the country. the japanese resisted the disney temptation by building their own lands of technological marvels. when an athlete born in america, naturalized as japanese, won the traditional sumo wrestling championship, the japanese judges decided that this would be his last chance, since the sport requires, they stated, a spirituality (translated by demeanor) that a foreign-born sportsman cannot have. on closer examination, americanization runs deeper than what any assortment of objects, attitudes, values, and imitated behavior tell us. it addresses the very core of human activity in today's global community. it is easy to understand why america appears to embody efficiency reached at the expense of many abandoned values: respect for authority, for environment, for resources, even human resources, and ultimately human values. the focus of the practical experience through which american identity is constituted is on limitless expectations regarding social existence, standard of living, political action, economic reward, even religious experience. its encompassing obsession is freedom, or at least the appearance of freedom. whatever the pragmatics affords becomes the new expectation and is projected as the next necessity. the right to affluence, as relative as affluence is in american society, is taken for granted, never shadowed by the thought that one's wealth and well-being might come at the expense of someone else's lack of opportunity. competitive, actually adversarial, considerations prevail, such as those manifest in the morally dubious practices accepted by the legal and political systems. "to the victor go the spoils" is probably the most succinct description of what this means in real life. the american way of life has been a hope and promise for people all over the world. the mixed feelings they have towards america does not necessarily reflect this. the entire world is probably driven by the desire for efficiency that makes such a standard of living possible more than by the pressure to copy the american style (of products, living, politics, behavior, etc.). this desire corresponds to a pragmatics shaped by the global scale of humankind, and by the contemporary dynamics of human self-constitution. each country faces the battle between efficiency and culture (some going back thousands of years), in contrast to the usa, whose culture is always in status nascendi. the american anxiety over the current state of literacy is laden with a nostalgia for a tradition never truly established and a fear of a future never thought through. it is, consequently, of more than documentary interest to understand how america epitomizes a civilization that has made literacy obsolete. for the love of trade as a country formed by unending waves of immigration, america can be seen, superficially though, as a civilization of many parallel literacies. ethnic neighborhoods are still a fact of life. here one finds stores where only the native language is spoken, with newspapers printed in greek, hungarian, german, italian, ukrainian, farsi, armenian, hebrew, romanian, russian, arabic, japanese, mandarin, korean. cable tv caters to these groups, and so do many importers of products reminiscent of some country where "food tastes real" and goods "last forever." all of these carried-over literacies are, in final analysis, means of self-constitution, bridges between cultures that will be burned by the third generation. in practicing the literacy of origins, human beings constitute themselves as split personalities between two pragmatic contexts. one embodies expectations characteristic of the context that relied upon literacy- homogeneity, hierarchy, centralism, tradition. the other, of the adopted country, is focused upon needs that effect the transition to the civilization of illiteracy- heterogeneity, horizontality, decentralism, tradition as choice, but not way of life. aspects of immigration (and in general of human migration) need to be addressed, not from the perspective of parallel literacies, but as variations within a unifying pragmatic framework. the de-culturization of people originating from many countries and belonging to many nations is probably a unique feature of america. it impacted all aspects of life, and continues to be a source of vitality, as well as tension. immigrants arrive as literates (some more so than others) only to discover that their literacy is relatively useless. that things were not always like this is relatively well documented. neil postman reported that the th-century settlers were quite literate in terms characteristic of the time. up to percent of the men were able to read the bible; among women the percentage reported is . they also read other publications, some imported from england, and at the beginning of the second half of the eighteenth century supported a printing industry soon to become very powerful. in importing their literacies, the english, as well as the french and dutch, imported all the characteristics that literacy implies and which went into the foundation of the american government. over time, in the successive waves of immigration, unskilled and skilled workers, intellectuals, and peasants arrived. they all had to adapt to a different culture, dominated by the british model but moving farther away from it as the country started to develop its own characteristics. each national or ethnic group, shaped through practical experiences that did not have a common denominator, had to adapt to others. the country grew quite fast, as did its industry, transportation system, farming, banking, and the many services made possible and necessary by the overall economic development. to some extent, literacy was an integral part of these accomplishments. the young country soon established its own body of literature, reflecting its own experience, while remaining true to the literacy of the former mother country. i say to some extent because, as the history of each of these accomplishments shows, the characteristics inherent in literacy were opposed, under the banner of states' rights, democracy, individuality, or progress. with all this in mind, it is no wonder that americans do not like to hear that they are a nation of illiterates, as people from much older cultures are sometimes inclined to call them (for right or wrong reasons). no wonder either that they are still committed to literacy; moreover, that they believe that it represents a panacea to the problems raised by fast technological cycles of change, by new modes of human interaction, and by circumstances of practical experiences to which they have to adapt. educators and business-people are well aware, and worried, that literacy in the classical sense is declining. the sense of history they inherited makes them demand that effort and money be spent to turn the tide and bring america back to past greatness, or at least to some stability. probably the nature of this greatness is misunderstood or misconstrued, since there is not much in the history of the accomplishments of the united states that could rank the country among the cultural giants of past and present civilizations. throughout its history, america always represented, to some degree, a break with the values of the old world. the europeans who came to the dutch, french, and english colonies had at least one thing in common: they wanted to escape from the pragmatics of hierarchy, centralized political and religious domination, and fixed rules of social and cultural life representing a system of order that kept them in their place. freedom of religion-one of the most sought after-is freedom from a dominant, unified church and its vision of the unconditionally submissive individual. cultivating one's own land, another hope that animated the settlers, is freedom from practical serfdom imposed by the landowning nobility on those lower on the hierarchy. john smith's maxim that those who didn't work didn't eat was perhaps the first blow to the european values that ranked language and culture along with social status and privilege. most likely, the immigrants, highborn and low, did not come with the intention of overthrowing the sense and morals prevailing at the time. the phase of imitation of the old, characteristic of any development, extended from religious ceremonies to ways of working, enjoying, educating, dressing, and relating to outsiders (natives, slaves, religious sects). in this phase of imitation, a semi-aristocracy established itself in the south, emulating the english model. in protesting the taxes and punitive laws imposed by king george iii, the upper-class colonials were demanding their rights as englishmen, with all that this qualifier entailed. jefferson's model for the free united states was that the agrarian state best embodied the classic ideals that animated him. jefferson was himself the model of literacy-based practical experiences, a landed aristocrat who owned slaves, a man trained in the logic of greece and rome. his knowledge came from books. he was able to bring his various interests in architecture, politics, planning, and administration in focus through the pragmatic framework for which literacy was adequate. although jefferson, among others, rejected monarchy, which his fellow citizens would have set up, he did not hesitate to exercise the almost kingly powers that the executive branch of government entailed. his activity shows how monarchic centrality and hierarchy were translated in the new political forms of emerging democracies, within which elective office replaced inherited power. in the history of early america, we can see how literacy carries over the non-egalitarian model as it advanced equality in people's natural rights and before the law, the power of rules, and a sense of authority inspired by religion, practiced in political life, and connected to expectations of order. just as new trees sprout from the trunk of an old tree, so new paradigms take root within an old one. people immigrated to america to escape the old models. challenged by the need to provide a framework for their own self-identification, they ended up establishing an alternative context for the unfolding of the industrial revolution. in the process, they changed in more ways than they could foresee. politically, they established conditions conducive to emancipation from the many constraints of the system they left. even their patterns of living, speaking, behaving, and thinking changed. in , charles dickens observed of americans that "the love of trade is assigned as a reason for that comfortless custom...of married persons living in hotels, having no fireside of their own, and seldom meeting, from early morning until late at night, but at the hasty public meals. the love of trade is a reason why the literature of america is to remain forever unprotected: 'for we are a trading people, and don't care for poetry: though we do, by the way, profess to be very proud of our poets.'" dickens came from a culture that considered literacy one of the highest achievements of england, so much so that, according to jane austen, shakespeare could be particularly appreciated by the english alone (cf. mansfield park). she gave cultivation of the mind the highest priority. literature was expected to assist in defining values and pointing out the proper moral and intellectual direction. france was in a very similar position in regard to its culture and literature; so were the german lands and holland. even russia, otherwise opposed to acknowledging the new pragmatic context of industrial production, was affected by the european enlightenment. de toqueville, whose journey to america contributed to his fame, made his historic visit in the 's. by this time, america had time and opportunity to establish its peculiar character, so he was able to observe characteristics that would eventually define a new paradigm. the associated emerging values, based on a life relatively free of historic constraints, caught his attention: "the americans can devote to general education only the early years of life. [...] at fifteen they enter upon their calling, and thus their education generally ends at the age when ours begins. if it is continued beyond that point, it aims only towards a particular specialized and profitable purpose; one studies science as one takes up a business; and one takes up only those applications whose immediate practicality is recognized. [...] there is no class, then, in america, in which the taste for intellectual pleasures is transmitted with hereditary fortune and leisure and by which the labors of the intellect are held in honor. accordingly, there is an equal want of the desire and power of application to these objects." opinions, even those of scholars of de toqueville's reputation, are inherently limited in scope. sent by the french government to examine prisons and penitentiaries in the new world, he wound up writing a study of how a highly literate european understood america's social and political institutions. many of the characteristics of the civilization of illiteracy were emerging during the years of his visit. he highlighted the shortness of political cycles, the orality of public administration, the transience of commitments (the little there is of writing "is soon wafted away forever, like the leaves of the sibyl, by the smallest breeze"). severance from the past, in particular, made this visitor predict that americans would have to "recourse to the history of other nations in order to learn anything of the people who now inhabit them." what we read in de toqueville is the expression of the surprise caused by discontinuity, by change, and by a dynamics that in other parts of the world was less obvious. the new world certainly provided new themes, addressed and interpreted differently by americans and europeans. the more european cities of the northeast- boston, new york, philadelphia-maintained cultural ties to the old world, as evidenced by universities, scholars, poets, essayists, and artists. nevertheless, washington irving complained that one could not make a living as a writer in the united states as one could in europe. indeed, many writers earned a living as journalists (which is a way of being a writer) or as civil servants. the real america-the one dickens so lamented-was taking form west of the hudson river and beyond the appalachian mountains. this was truly a world where the past did not count. america finally did away with slavery (as a by-product of the civil war). but at the same time, it started undoing some part of the underlying structure reflected in literacy. the depth and breadth of the process escaped the full understanding of those literate founding fathers who set the process in motion, and was only partially realized by others (de toqueville included). it clearly affected the nature of human practical experiences of self-constitution as free citizens of a democracy whose chance to succeed lay in the efficiency, not in the expressive power, of ideas. america's industrial revolution took place against a background different from that of the rest of the world- a huge island indulging in relative autarchy for a short time. forces corresponding to the pragmatics of the post-industrial age determined a course of opening itself and opening as much of the world as possible-regardless of how this was to be accomplished. the process still affects economic development, financial markets, cultural interdependencies, and education. "the best of the useful and the best of the ornamental" some will protest that over years have gone by and the american character has been shaped by more than the love of trade. they will point to the literary heritage of washington irving, mark twain, henry wadsworth longfellow, ralph waldo emerson, nathaniel hawthorne, henry james. indeed, th century american writers have been appreciated and imitated abroad. faulkner and hemingway are the best known examples. today, american writers of lesser stature and talent are translated into the various european languages, for the same reasons that disneyland was brought to france. americans will point to theaters (which presented european plays) and opera houses, forgetting how late these acquisitions are, instituted when economic progress was on a sound track. indeed, the response to these assertions is simple: the result of other influences is not a change of course, but a much faster movement in the direction america pursues. a good example is given by education. the american colleges and universities founded in the th and early th centuries attempted to follow the traditional model of learning for its own sake; that is, moral and intellectual improvement through study of the age-old classics. this lasted until various interest groups, in particular businessmen, questioned the validity of an educational program that had little or no pragmatic value. these schools were in the east-harvard, brown, yale, columbia, william and mary- and the curricula reflected that of the old world. in general, only the elite of america attended them. the newer universities, the so-called land grant colleges, later called state universities (such as ohio state university, texas a & m), established west of the allegheny river during the last quarter of the th century, did indeed pursue more pragmatic programs-agriculture and mechanics-to serve the needs of the respective state, not the nation. in view of this demand for what is useful, it is easy to understand why american universities have become high (and sometimes not so high) level vocational schools, substituting for what high school rarely provided. pragmatic requirements and anti-elitist political considerations collided with the literate model and a strange hybrid resulted. a look at how the course offerings changed over time brings clear evidence that logic, rhetoric, culture, appreciation of the word and of the rules of grammar and syntax-all the values associated with a dominant literacy-are relegated to specializations in philosophy, literature, or written communication, and to a vast, though confusing, repertory of elective classes, which reflect an obsession with free choice and a leveling notion of democracy. literature, after being forced to give up its romantic claim to permanency, associates itself with transitory approaches that meet, with increasing opportunistic speed, whatever the current agenda might be: feminism, multiculturalism, anti-war rhetoric, economic upheaval. human truth, as literary illusion or hope, is replaced by uncertainty. no wonder that in this context programs in linguistics and philology languish or disappear from the curriculum. economics lost its philosophic backbone and became an exercise in statistics and mathematics. when faced with a list of courses that a university requires, most students ask, "why do i need...?" in this category fall literature, mathematics, philosophy, and almost everything else definable within literacy as formative subject matter or discipline. blame for this attitude, if any can be uttered, should not be put on the young people processed by the university system. the students conform, as difficult as it might be for them to understand their conformity, to what is expected of them: to get a driver's license and a college diploma, and to pay taxes. the expectation of a diploma does not result from requirements of qualification but from the american obsession with equality. america, which revolted against hierarchy and inequality, has never tolerated even the appearance of individual superiority. this led to a democracy that opposed superiority, leveling what was not equal-rights or aptitudes, opportunities or abilities-at any price. college education as privilege, which america inherited from the europe it left behind, was considered an injustice. over time, commercial democracy turned college into another shopping mall. today, diplomas, from ba to ph.d., are expected just for having attended college, a mere prerequisite to a career, not necessarily the result of rigorous mental application leading to quality results. young adults go to college because they heard that one can get a better (read higher paying) job with a college education. the result of broadening the scope of university studies to include professions for which only training is required is that the value of a college diploma (but not the price paid for it) has decreased. some say that soon one will need a college diploma just to be a street cleaner (sanitation engineer). actually, a person will not need a diploma, but will just happen to have one. and the wage of a sanitation worker will be so high (inflation always keeps pace with demagogy) that a college graduate will feel more entitled to the job than a high school dropout. when thomas jefferson studied, he realized that none of his studies would help him run his plantation. architecture and geometry were subordinate to a literacy-dominated standard. nevertheless, education inspired him as a citizen, as it inspired all who joined him in signing the declaration of independence. a context was established for further emancipation. the depth and breadth of the process escaped the full understanding of those who set the process in motion, and was at best partially realized by very few others, de tocqueville included. it clearly affected the nature of human practical experiences of self-constitution as free citizens of a democracy whose chance to succeed lay in the efficiency of ideas, not in their expressive power. inventiveness was unleashed; labor-saving devices, machinery that did the work of tens and hundreds of men provided more and more immediate satisfaction than intellectual exercise did. americans do not, if they ever did, live in an age of the idea for its own sake or for the sake of the spirit. maintaining mental faculties or uplifting the spirit are imported services. in the early history of the usa, the transcendentalist movement, of a priori intuitions, was a strong intellectual presence, but its adherents only transplanted the seed from europe. those and others-the schools of thought associated with peirce, dewey, james, and royce-rarely took root, producing a flower more appreciated if it actually was imported. this is not a country that appreciates the pure idea. america has always prided itself in its products and practicality, not thinking and vision. "a plaine souldier that can use a pick-axe and a spade is better than five knights," according to captain john smith. his evaluation summarizes the american preference for useful over ornamental. paradoxically though, business leaders argued for education and proclaimed their support for schools and colleges. at a closer look, their position appears somewhat duplicitous. american business needed its cooper, edison, and bell, around whose inventions and discoveries industries were built. once these were in place, it needed consumers with money to buy what industries produced. business supported education as a right and took all the tax deductions it could in order to have this right serve the interests of industry and business. consequently, in american society, ideas are validated only at the material level, in providing utility, convenience, comfort, and entertainment, as long as these maximize profit. "the sooner the better" is an expectation of efficiency, one that does not take into consideration the secondary effects of production or actions, as long as the first effect was profit. not the educated citizen, but the person who succeeded in getting rich no matter how, was considered the "smart" fellow, as dickens learned during his journey through america. prompted by such a deeply rooted attitude, sidney lanier, of georgia, deplored the "endless tale/ of gain by cunning and plus by sale." to value success regardless of the means applied is part of the american teleology (sometimes in complicity with american theology). bertrand russell observed of machiavelli that no one has been more maligned for simply stating the truth. the observation applies to those who have taken upon themselves the task of writing about the brave citizens of the free land. dickens was warned against publishing his american notes. european writers and artists, and visitors from russia, china, and japan have irritated their american friends through their sincere remarks. not many americans refer to thorston veblen, theodore dreiser, henry james, or to gore vidal, but the evaluations these authors made of the american character have been criticized by the majority of their compatriots whose sentimental vision of america cannot cope with legitimate observations. mark twain felt that he'd rather be "damned to john bunyan's heaven" than be obliged to read james's the bostonians. the rear-view mirror syndrome so why do americans look back to a time when people "knew how to read and write," a time when "each town had five newspapers?" big businesses, consolidated well before the invention of newer means of communication and mediation, have large investments in literacy: newspapers, publishing houses, and especially universities. but the promise of a better material life through literacy today rings tragically hollow in the ears of graduates who cannot find jobs in their fields of study. the advertisement most telling of this state of affairs is for a cooking school: "college gave me a degree in english. peter kump's cooking school gave me a career." granted that literacy has never made anyone rich in the monetary sense, we can ask what the pragmatic framework set up in this part of the new world did accomplish that literacy could not. in the first place, escape from one dominant mode embodied in literate practical experiences facilitated the assertion of other modes of expression and communication. peter cooper, founder of the cooper union for the advancement of science and art in new york city, made his fortune in railroads, glue, and gelatin desserts. he was truly illiterate: he could not read. obviously he was not unintelligent. many pioneers had a better command of their tools than of their pen. they read nature with more understanding than some university students read books. there are other cases of people who succeed, sometimes spectacularly, although they cannot read. the illiterate california businessman who taught high school social sciences and mathematics for eighteen years became known because television, for some reason, saw in him a good case for the literacy cause. people like him rely on a powerful memory or use an intelligence not based on literate conventions. howard gardner's theory of multiple intelligences (formerly known as aptitudes) seems to be ignored by educators who still insist that everyone learn to read and write-better said, conform to the conventions of literacy-as though these were the only ways to comprehend others and to function in life. there are few commentaries that contradict this attitude. william burroughs thought that "language is a virus from outer space." probably it feels better to perceive language like this in view of the many abuses to which language is subjected, but also in view of the way people use it to deceive. a more direct criticism states: "the current high profile of literacy is symptomatic of a speedy, ruthless transition from an industrial to an information-based economy. [...] literacy, to be sure, is a powerful, unique technology. yet literacy remains a human invention contained by social contract, and the maintenance of that contract in education betrays our ideas of humanity as surely as our use of literacy enforces them" (cf. elsbeth stuckey) american experience shows that the imposition of a sole model of higher education, based on literacy, has economic, social, and cultural consequences. it is very costly. it levels instead of addressing and encouraging diversity. it introduces expectations of cultural homogeneity in a context that thrives on heterogeneity. the literate model of education with which the country flirted, and which still seems so attractive, negates one of america's sources of vitality-openness to alternatives, itself made possible by the stubborn refusal of centralism and hierarchy. held in high esteem in the early part of american history, literacy came to students through schoolhouses in which webster's speller and mcguffey's reader disbursed more patriotism (essential to a nation in search of an identity) and more awareness of what "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness" should mean than quality writing or the possibility to select good books for reading. literacy with a practical purpose, and the variety of literacies corresponding to the variety of human practical experiences, is a discovery made in america. understanding pragmatic requirements as opposed to pursuing literacy for the sake of literacy, at the price of rejecting its rewards, is where the road forks. but here america follows yogi berra's advice: "when you come to a fork in the road, take it." in their search for new values, or when faced with competing answers to tough questions, people tend to look back to a time when everything seemed all right. and they tend to pick and choose the characteristics that led to this perceived state of affairs. things were all right, some want to believe, when kids, plodding along country roads, winter or summer, went to school and learned to read. therefore, most people assume that the environment propitious to literacy will bring back the golden age. no one wants to see that america was never reducible to this romantic picture. in the south, education never seemed to be a mission. slaves and poor whites remained outside the idealized stream. females were not encouraged to study. a protestant viewpoint dominated subject matter (recall the puritan alphabet primer). americans seem intent on ignoring accomplishments outside the domain of literacy and the dynamics of the non-literate united states. in admiration of real cultures, americans do not want to hear or see that many of them, of proud and ancient ancestry, started questioning their own values and the education transmitting them. the practical sense and pragmatism ascertained in the formation of america were adopted as causes worth fighting for. in europe, students protested an education that did not prepare them for work. thanks to universal education-european governments by and large offer publicly supported higher education, at no cost to the student, through college and graduate school-more young people received an education (in the classical sense of the word) and their ranks flooded the market. they discovered that they were not prepared for the practical experiences characteristic of the new pragmatics, especially the new forms of mediations that characterize work and that are making headway around the world. in europe, there is a clear distinction between university studies and vocational studies. this has prevented universities from becoming the high-class vocational schools that they are in america, and has maintained the meaning of the diploma as a proof of intellectual endeavor. on the other hand, they remain ivory towers, not preparing students for the practical experiences of the new pragmatics. brotlose kunst (breadless art) is what the germans now call such fields of study as literature, philosophy, musicology, religion, and any other purely intellectual endeavor. looking at a totally different culture, americans tend to respond to japan's economic success and criticism of our system by saying that our educational system must become more like that of america's leading competitor. they ignore the fact that japan's high rate of productivity has less to do with the nation's high rate of literacy than does the indoctrination and character formation that japanese schooling entails. fundamental attitudes of conformity, team mentality, and a very strong sense of hierarchy, together with an almost sacred sense of tradition, are instilled through literate means. one does not have to be literate in any language in order to solder one circuit to another on an assembly line or to snap together modular components fabricated by advanced machines. what is necessary, indeed expected, is an ethic that calls for a sense of duty and pride in a job well done, a sense met by the social promise of permanency. all in all, the japanese system allows for little variation from the consensus, and even less for the creation of new models. the only way japan stepped out of the literate mode in the manufacturing world is in quality control. ironically, this idea was developed by the american edward denning, but rejected by his compatriots, who literally stagnated in a hierarchic model originating from circumstances of literacy. this hierarchical model, now in obvious decline, gave to american businessmen the sense of power they could not achieve through education or culture. the japanese, living in a system that preserved its identity while actively pursuing plans for economic expansion, formed strategies of self-containment (severely tested in times of economic downturn), as well as methods of relating to the rest of the world. this condition is manifest in their talent for spotting the most profitable from other countries, making it theirs, and pursuing avenues of competition in which what is specifically japanese (skills, endurance, collusion) and the appropriated foreign component are successfully joined. almost the entire foundation of today's television, in its analog embodiment, is japanese. but if for some reason the programming component would cease to exist, all the marvelous equipment that makes tv possible would abruptly become useless. in some ways, japan has almost no interest in a change of paradigm in television, such as the revolutionary digital tv, because an enormous industry, present in almost every home where television is used, would have to reinvent itself. the expectation of permanency that permeates literate japan thus extends from literacy to a medium of illiteracy. in the american context, of almost no stable commitments, digital television, along with many other innovations in computation and other fields, is a challenge, not a threat to an entire infrastructure. this example was not chosen randomly. it illustrates the dynamics of the change from a literacy-dominated civilization to one of many competing literacies. these emerge in the context of change from self-sufficient, relatively small-scale, homogeneous communities to the global world of today, so powerfully interconnected through television and through digital media of all kinds. as illiterates, americans lead other nations in breakthroughs in medicine, genetics, networking, interactive multimedia, virtual reality, and inventiveness in general. obviously, it is easier to design a course of education assuming some permanency or maintaining it, regardless of pragmatic requirements. diane ravitch stated that it is hard to define what education will be needed for the future when we don't know what skills the jobs of the future will require. an optimal education, reflecting pragmatic needs of highly mediated practical experiences of distributed effort and networking, will have to facilitate the acquisition of new cognitive skills. decentralized, non-sequential, non-deterministic experiences require cognitive skills different from those characteristic of literacy. schools used to be able to prepare students to find their place in the workforce even before graduation. more schools than ever insist on churning out a strange version of the literate student who should go on to a college that is more (though still not enough) vocational school than university. the university, under the alibi of equal opportunity and more in consideration of its own agenda, has done more damage to education and literacy by forcing itself upon americans as the only means to attain a better life. the result is crowded classes in which passive students are processed according to the industrial model of the assembly line, while the creative energy of faculty and students is redirected to a variety of ventures promising what a university cannot deliver. the very word university acknowledges one encompassing paradigm, prevalent in the middle ages, that the usa practically disposed of over a century ago. in an age of global reality and many paradigms, the university is in reality less universal and increasingly specialized. in these times of change, america, founded on innovation and self-reliance, seems to forget its own philosophy of decentralization and non-hierarchy. by no surprise, the newer computer technology-based companies took the lead in decentralizing and networking the workplace, in re-engineering each and every business. most business-people, especially in established companies, are reluctant to address matrix management methods or to use distributed forms of organization and decentralized structures. consequently, after waves of corporate restructuring and resizing, presidents and chairmen (not unlike university presidents and school principals) are kings, and the laborer, when not replaced by a machine, is often a virtual serf. surprisingly, the decentralized spirit of homesteading and the distribution of tasks and responsibilities, through which much of efficiency is reached, makes slow headway. but things are changing! if there is an engine at work pulling the world from its literacy- based pragmatics to the future of higher efficiency required by the new scale of human activity, it has the initials usa written on it. and it is-make no mistake about it-digital. when not faithful to its own experience of pluralism and self-motivation, the usa faces the inherent limitations of literacy-based practical experience in a number of domains, the political included. america once had a number of political parties. now it seems that it cannot effectively get beyond the literate dualistic model of two antagonistic parties, emulating the tories and the whigs of the empire to which it once belonged. european countries and several african and asian states have multi-party systems that reflect sensitivity to differences and take advantage of the variety they allow for. such systems enfranchise more of a country's citizenry than does the two- party system in the usa. every four years, americans demand greater choice in elections, but only one state, alaska, considers it normal to have more than two parties, and, incidentally, a governor who is neither republican nor democrat. the usa has a complex about literacy to the extent that every subject is now qualified as literacy-cultural literacy, computer literacy, visual literacy, etc.-whether literacy is involved or not. literacy has become its own specialty. in addition, new literacies, effectively disconnected from the ideals and expectations of classical literacy, have emerged from practical experiences of human self-constitution in realms where writing and reading are no longer required. this would not be so bad if it were not blinding people to the truth about a major characteristic of humankind. diversity of expression and multiplicity of communication modes define new areas of human accomplishment and open avenues for further unfolding of people's creative and economic potential. the new condition of language, in particular the failure of literacy, is at the same time a symptom of a new stage in human progress. it in no way reflects a failure of national policy or will. as a matter of fact, the new stage we are entering is a reflection of the human spirit unfolding, refusing to be held captive to a dominant mode that has outlived its usefulness. it may well be that the coming of age of america is part of this new stage. after all, many believe that the crisis of language is the crisis of the white man (cf. gottfried benn), or at least of western civilization. so, is the usa the epitome of the civilization of illiteracy? yes, america is illiterate to the extent that it constituted itself as an alternative to the world based on the underlying structures of literacy. the new pragmatic framework that the usa embodies does not automatically free it from the seductive embrace of the civilization it negates, and the current angst over the state of literacy is a manifestation of this. as an embodiment of the civilization of illiteracy, america demonstrates how several literacies can work together by complementing each other. such a pragmatics succeeds or fails on its own terms. whenever the implicit founding principles of adaptation, openness, exploration and validation of new models, and pragmatically based institutions are pursued, the result is the expected efficiency. sometimes, the price people seem to pay for it is very high-unemployment, dislocation, retrenchment, a loss of a sense of permanency that humans long for. the price includes the ability or willingness to consider all aspects involved in a situation-political, environmental, social, legal, religious. these aspects transcend the tangible and necessitate taking the broad view, which literate civilization allowed for, over the specialized, narrowly focused, short- sighted, parochial view. other times, it looks as though there are no alternatives. but in the long run, no one would really want to go back to the way things were years ago. book two from signs to language languages are very different. so are literacies. the differences go well beyond how words sound, how alphabets differ, how letters are put together, or how sentences are structured in the various languages used around the world. in some languages, fine distinctions of color, shape, gender, numbers, and aspects of nature are made while more general statements are difficult to articulate. anthropologists noted that in some of the eskimo languages many words could be identified for what we call (using one word) snow and for activities involving it; in arabic, many names are given to camel; in mexico, different names qualify ceramic pottery according to function, not form: jarro for drinking, jarra for pouring, olla for cooking beans, cazuela for cooking stews. the japanese and chinese distinguish among different kinds of rice: still in the paddy, long- grained, shucked, kernels. george lakoff mentions the dyirbal language of australia where the category balan includes fire, dangerous things, women, birds, and animals such as platypus, bandicoot, and echidna. in other languages, the effort to categorize reveals associations surprising to individuals whose own life experiences are not reflected in the language they observe. the questioning attitude in the talmud (a book of interpretations of the hebrew torah) is based on terms qualifying different kinds of questions. shuzan is calculation based on the use of the abacus. hissan, hiding the japanese word hitsu that stands for the brush used for writing, is calculation based on the use of arabic numerals. to be in command of a language such as chinese (to be literate in chinese) is different from being literate in english, and even more different from being literate in various tribal languages. these examples suggest that the practical experience through which language is constituted belongs to the broad pragmatic context. there is no such thing as an abstract language. among particular languages there are great differences in vocabulary, syntax, and grammar, as well as in the idiosyncratic aspects implicit in them, reflective of the experience of their constitution. despite such differences-some very deep-language is the common denominator of the species homo sapiens, and an important constitutive element of the dynamics of the species. we are our language. those who state that language follows life consider only one side of the coin. life is also formed in practical experiences of language constitution. the influence goes both ways, but human existence is in the end dependent upon the pragmatic framework within which individuals project their own biological structure in the practical act through which they identify themselves changes in the dynamics of language can be traced in what makes language necessary (biologically, socially, culturally), what causes different kinds of language use, and what brought about change. necessity and agents of change are not the same, although sometimes it is quite difficult to distinguish between them. changed working habits and new life styles are, as much as the appropriate language characterizing them, symptomatically connected to the pragmatic framework of our continuous self-constitution. we still have ten fingers-a structural reality of the human body projected into the decimal system-but the dominant number system today is probably binary. this observation regards the simplistic notion that words are coined when new instances make them desirable, and disappear when no longer required. in fact, many times words and other means of expression constitute new instances of life or work, and thus do not follow life, but define possible life paths. there are several sources from which knowledge about language constitution and its subsequent evolution can be derived: historic evidence, anthropological research, cognitive modeling, cultural evaluation, linguistics, and archaeology. here is a quote from one of the better (though not uncontroversial) books on the subject: language "enabled man to achieve a form of social organization whose range and complexity was different in kind from that of animals: whereas the social organization of animals was mainly instinctive and genetically transmitted, that of man was largely learned and transmitted verbally through the cultural heritage," (cf. jack goody and ian watt, the consequence of literacy). the general idea pertaining to the social implications of language is restrictive but acceptable. what is not at all explained here is how language comes into existence, and why instinctive and genetically transmitted organization (of animals) would not suffice, or even be tantamount to the verbally transmitted organization of human beings. as a matter of fact, language, as perceived in the text cited and elsewhere in literature, becomes merely a storing device, not a formative instrument, a working tool of sorts, even a tool for making other tools and for evaluating them. languages have to be understood in a much broader perspective. like humans, languages have an evolution in time. what came before language can be identified. what remains after a certain language disappears (and we know of some that have disappeared) are elements as important as the language itself for our better understanding of what makes language necessary. the disappearance of a language also helps us realize how the life of a language takes place through the life of those who made it initially possible, afterwards necessary, and finally replaced it with means more appropriate to their practical life and to their ever-changing condition. research into pre-linguistic time (i refer to anthropological, archaeological, and genetic research) has focused on items people used in primitive forms of work. it convincingly suggests that before a relatively stable and repetitive structure was in place, people used sounds, gestures, and body expressions (face, hands, legs) pretty much the way infants do. the human lineage, in its constitutive phases, left behind a wealth of testimony to patterns of action and, later, to behavioral codes that result in some sense of cohesion. distant forebears developed patterns in obtaining food and adapting to changes affecting the availability of food and shelter. before words, tools probably embodied both potential action and communication. many scholars believe that tools are not possible without, or before, words. they claim that cognitive processes leading to the manufacture of tools, and to the tool-making human being (homo faber), are based on language. in the opinion of these scholars, tools extend the arm, and thus embody a level of generality not accessible otherwise than through language. it might well be that nature-based "notation" (footprints, bite marks, and the stone chips that some researchers believe were the actual tools) preceded language. such notation was more in extension of the biological reality of the human being, and corresponded to a cognitive state, as well as to a scale of existence, preparing for the emergence of language. research on emerging writing systems (the work of scribner and cole, for instance, and moreover the work of harald haarmann, who considers the origins of writing in the notations found at vinca, in the balkans, near present-day belgrade) has allowed us to understand how patterns of sounds and gestures became graphic representations; and how, once writing was established, new human experiences, at a larger scale of work, became possible. finally, the lesson drawn from dying languages (rosch's studies of dyirbal, reported by lakoff) is a lesson in the foundation of such languages and their demise. what we learn from these is less about grammar and phonetics and more about a type of human experience. we also acquire information regarding the supporting biological structure of those involved in it, the role of the scale of humankind, and how this scale changes due to a multitude of conjectures. the differentiation introduced above among pre-language notations, emerging languages, emerging systems of writing, and dying languages is simultaneously a differentiation of kinds and types of human expression, interaction, and interpretation of everything humans use to acknowledge their reality in the world they live in. drawing attention to oneself or to others does not require language. sounds suffice; gestures can add to the intended signal. in every sound and in every gesture, humans project themselves in some way. individuality is preserved through a sound's pitch, timbre, volume, and duration; a gesture can be slow or rapid, timid or aggressive, or a mixture of these characteristics. once the same sound, or the same gesture, or the same sequence of sounds and gestures is used to point to the same thing, this stabilized expression becomes what can be defined, in retrospect, as a sign. semeion revisited interest in various sign systems used by humans reaches well back to ancient times. but it was only after renewed interest in semiotics-the discipline dealing with signs (semeion is the greek word for sign)-that researchers from various other disciplines started looking at signs and their use by humans. the reason for this is to be found in the fast growth of expression and communication based on means other than natural language. interaction between humans and increasingly complex machines also prompted a great deal of this interest. language-oral and written-is probably the most complex system of signs that researchers are aware of. although the word language comprises experiences in other sign systems, it is by no means their synthesis. before the practical experience of language, humans constituted themselves in experiences of simpler means of expression and communication: sounds, rhythms, gestures, drawings, ritualized movement, and all kinds of marks. the process can be seen as one of progressive projection of the individual onto the environment of existence. the sign i of one's own individuality-as distinct from other i's with whom interaction took place through competition, cooperation, or hostility-is most likely the first one can conjure. it must be simultaneous with the sign of the other, since i can be defined only in relation to something different, i.e., to the other. in the world of the different, some entities were dangerous or threatening, others accommodating, others cooperating. these qualifiers could not be simply translated into identifiers. they were actually projections of the subject as it perceived and understood, or misunderstood, the environment. to support my thesis about the pragmatic nature of language and literacy, a short account of the pre-verbal stage needs to be attempted here. very many scholars have tried to discover the origin of language. it is a subject as fascinating as the origins of the universe and the origin of life itself. my interest is rather in the area of the nature of language, the origin being an implicit theme, and the circumstances of its origination. i have already referred to what are loosely called tools and to behavioral codes (sexual, or relating to shelter, food-gathering, etc.). there is historic evidence that can be considered for such an account, and there are quite a number of facts related to conditions of living (changes in climate, extinction of some animals and plants, etc.) that affect this stage. the remaining information is comprised of inferences based on how beings similar to what we believe human beings once were constituted their signs as an expression of their identity. these signs reflected the outside world, but moreover expressed awareness of the world made possible by the human's own biological condition. the very first sentence of the once famous port-royal grammar unequivocally considers speaking as an explanation of our thoughts by signs invented for this particular purpose. the same text makes thinking independent of words or any kind of signs. i take the position that the transition from nature to culture, i.e., from reactions caused by natural stimuli to reflections and awareness, is marked by both continuity and discontinuity. the continuous aspect refers to the biological structure projected into the universe of interactions with similar or dissimilar entities. the discontinuity results from biological changes in brain size, vertical posture, functions of the hands. the pre- verbal (or pre-discursive) is immediate by its very nature. the discursive, which makes possible the manifest thought (one among many kinds) is mediated by the signs of language. closeness to the natural environment is definitive of this stage. although i am rather suspicious of claims made by contemporary advocates of the psychedelic, in particular mckenna, i can see how everything affecting the biological potential of the being (in this case psilocybin, influencing vision and group behavior) deserves at least consideration when we approach the subject of language. signs, through which pre-verbal human beings projected their reality in the context of their existence, expressed through their energy and plasticity what humans were. signs captured what was perceived as alike in others, objects or beings, and likeness became the shared part of signs. this was a time of direct interaction and immediateness, a time of action and reaction. everything delayed or unexpected constituted the realm of the unknown, of mystery. the scale of life was reduced. all events were of limited steps and limited duration. interacting individuals constituted themselves as signs of presence, that is, of a shared space and time. signs could thus refer to here and now as immediate instantiations of duration, proximity, interval, etc., but long before the notions of space and time were formed. once distinctions were projected in the experience of signs, the absent or the coming could be suggested, and the dynamics of repetitive events could be expressed. it was only after this self- expression took place that a representational function became possible: a high-pitched cry not just for pain, but also for danger that might cause pain; an arm raised not only as an indication of firm presence, but also of requested attention; a color applied on the skin not only as an expression of pleasure in using a fruit or a plant, but also of anticipated similar pleasures-an instruction to be mimetically followed, to be imitated. being part of the expressed, the individuals projecting themselves in the expression also projected a certain experience related to the limited world they lived in. signs standing for associations of events (clouds with rain, noise of hooves with animals, bubbles on a lake's surface with fish) were probably as much representations of those sequences as an expression of constituted experience shared with others living in the same environment. sharing experience beyond the here and now, in other words, transition from direct and unreflected to indirect and reflected interaction, is the next cognitive step. it took place once shared signs were associated with shared common experiences and with rules of generating new signs that could report on new, similar, or dissimilar experiences. each sign is a biological witness to the process in which it was constituted and of the scale of the experience. a whisper addresses one other person, maybe two, very close to each other. a shout corresponds to a different scale. accordingly, each sign is its shorthand history and a bridge from the natural to the cultural. sequences, such as successions of sounds or verbal utterances, or configurations of signs, such as drawings, testify to a higher cognitive level. relations between sequences or configurations of signs and the practical experience in which they are constituted are less intuitive. to derive from the understanding of such sign relations some practical rules of significance to those sharing a sign system was an experience in human interaction. later in time, the immediate experiential component is present only indirectly in language. the constitution of the language is the result of the change of focus from signs to relations among them. grammar, in its most primitive condition, was not about how signs are put together (syntax), nor of how signs represent something (semantics), but of the circumstances determining new signs to be constituted in a manner preserving their experiential quality-the pragmatics. consequently, language was constituted as an intermediary between stabilized experience (repetitive patterns of work and interaction) and future (patterns broken). signs still preserved the concreteness of the event that triggered their constitution. in the use of language, the human being abandoned a great deal of individual projection. language's degree of generality became far higher than that of its components (signs themselves), or of any other signs. but even at the level of language, the characteristic function of this sign system was the constitution of practical experiences, not the representation of means for sharing categories of experiences. in each sign, and more so in each language, the biological and the artificial collide. when the biological element dominates, sign experiences take place as reactions. when the cultural dominates, the sign or language experience becomes an interpretation, i.e., a continuation of the semiotic experience. interpretation of any kind corresponds to the never-ending differentiation from the biological and is representative of the constitution of culture. under the name culture as used above, we understand human nature and its objectification in products, organizations, ideas, attitudes, values, artifacts. the practical experience of sign constitution-from the use of branches, rocks, and fur to the most primitive etchings (on stone, bone, and wood), from the use of sounds and gestures to articulated language-contributed to successive changes in ongoing activity (hunting, seeking shelter, collaborative efforts), as well as to changes in humans themselves. in the universe of rich detail in which humans affirmed their identity through fighting for resources and creatively finding alternatives, information did not change, but the awareness of the practical implications of details increased. each observation made in the appropriation of knowledge through its use in work triggered possible patterns of interaction. once signs were constituted, sharing in the experience became possible. genetic transmission of information was relatively slow. it dominated the initial phases during which the species introduced its own patterns within the patterns of the natural environment. semiotic transmission of information, in particular through language, is much faster than genetic inheritance but cannot replace it. human life is attested at roughly . million years ago, incipient language use roughly , years ago. agriculture as a patterned experience emerged no more than , years ago, and writing less than , years ago (although some researchers estimate , years). the shorter and shorter cycles characteristic of self-constitution correspond to the involvement of means other than genetic in the process of change. what today we call mental skills are the result of a rather compressed process. compare the time it took until motor skills involved in hunting, gathering, and foraging were perfected to the extent they were before they started to degenerate, relatively speaking, as we notice in our days. the first record is a whip signs can be recorded-quite a few were recorded in and on various materials- and so can language, as we all know. but language did not start out as a written system. the african ishango bone predates a writing system by some thousands of years; the quipus of the inca culture are a sui generis record of people, animals, and goods previous to writing. china and japan, as well as india, have similar pre-writing forms of keeping records. the polygenetic emergence of writing is, in itself, significant in several ways. for one, it introduced another mediating element disassociated from a particular speaker. second, it constituted a level of generality higher than that of the verbal expression that was independent of time and space, or of other forms of record keeping. third, everything projected into signs, and from signs into articulated language, participated in the formation of meaning as the result of the understanding of language through its use. only at that moment did language gain a semantic and syntactic dimension (as we call them in today's terminology). formally, if the issue of literacy and the constitution of languages are connected, then this connection started with written languages. nevertheless, events preceding written language give us the perspective of what made writing necessary, and why some cultures never developed a written language. although referring to a different time-frame (thousands of years ago), this could help us comprehend why writing and reading need not dominate life and work today and in the future. or at least it could help clarify the relation among human beings, their language, and their existence. after all, this is what we want to understand from the vantage point of today's world. we take the word for granted, wondering whether there was a stage of the wordless human being (about which we can only infer indirectly). but once the word was established, with the advent of the means for recording it, it affected not only the future, but also the perception of the past. conquering the past, the word gives legitimacy to explanations that presume it. thus it implies some carrying device, i.e., a system of notation as a built-in memory and as a mechanism for associations, permutations, and substitutions. but if such a system is accepted, the origins of writing and reading are pushed back so far in time that the disjunction of literate-illiterate becomes a structural characteristic of the species at one of the periods of its self-definition. obviously expanded far in time and seen in such a broad perspective, this notation (comprising images, the ishango bone, quipus, the vinca figurines, etc.) contradicts the logocratic model of language. mono- and polysyllabic elements of speech, embodying audible sequences of sounds (and appropriate breathing patterns that insert pauses and maintain a mechanism for synchronization), together with natural mnemonic devices (such as pebbles, knots on branches, shapes of stones, etc.) are pre-word components of pre-languages. they all correspond to the stage of direct interaction. they pertain to such a small scale of human activity that time and space can be sequenced in extension of the patterns of nature (day-night, very close-less close, etc.). this juncture in the self-definition of the species occurred when the transition, from selected natural marks to marking, and later to stable patterns of sounds, eventually leading to words, took place. this was an impressive change that introduced a linear relation in a realm that was one of randomness or even chaos. if catastrophes occurred (as many anthropologists indicate), i.e., changes of scale outside the linear to which human beings were not adapted, they resulted in the disappearance of entire populations, or in massive displacements. rooted in experiences belonging to what we would call natural phenomena, this change resulted in rudimentary elements of a language. new patterns of interaction were also developed: naming (by association, as in clans bearing names of animals), ordering and counting (at the beginning by pairing the counted objects, one by one, with other objects), recording regularities (of weather, sky configurations, biological cycles) as these affected the outcome of practical activities. scale and threshold already mentioned in previous pages, the concept of scale is an important parameter in human development. at this point, it is useful to elaborate on the notion since i consider scale to be critical in explaining major transitions in human pragmatics. the progression from pre-word to notation, and in our days from literacy to illiteracy is paralleled by the progression of scale. numbers as such-how many people in a given area, how many people interacting in a particular practical experience, the longevity of people under given circumstances, the mortality rate, family size-are almost meaningless. only when relations among numbers and circumstances can be established is some meaningful inference possible. scale is the expression of relations. a crude scale of life and death is remote from underlying adaptive strategies as these are embodied in practical experiences of self-constitution. knowledge regarding biological mechanisms, such as knowledge of health or disease, supports efforts to derive models for various circumstances of life, as humans project their biological reality into the reality of interactions with the outside world. we know, for instance, that when the scale of human activity progressed to include domesticated animals, some animal diseases affecting human life and work were transmitted to humans. domestication of animals, a very early practical experience, brought humans closer to them for longer times, thus facilitating what is called a change of host for agents of such diseases. the common cold seems to have been acquired from horses, influenza from pigs, smallpox from cattle. we also know that over time, infectious diseases affect populations that are both relatively large and stationary. the examples usually given are yellow fever or malaria and measles (the latter probably also transported from swine, where the disease is caused by the larva of the tapeworm from which the word measles is derived). sometimes the inference is made from information on groups that until recently were, or still are, involved in practical experiences similar to those of remote stages in human history, as are the tribes of the amazon rain forest. isolated hunter- gatherers and populations that still forage (the !kung san, hadza, pygmies) replay adaptive strategies that otherwise would be beyond our understanding. statistical data derived from observations help improve models based only on our knowledge about biological mechanisms. the notion of scale involves these considerations insofar as it tells us that life expectancy in different pragmatic frameworks varies drastically. the less than -year life expectancy (associated with high infant mortality, diseases, and dangers in the natural environment) explains the relatively stationary population of hunter-gatherers. orders of magnitude of years higher were achieved in what are called settled modes of life existing before the rise of cities (occurring at different times in asia minor, north africa, the far east, south america, and europe). the praxis of agriculture resulted in diversified resources and is connected to the dynamics of a lower death rate, a higher birth rate, and changes in anatomy (e.g., increased height). the hypotheses advanced by modern researchers of ancestral language families concerning the relation between their diffusion over large territories and the expanding agricultural populations is of special interest here. the so-called neolithic revolution brought about food production in some communities of people as opposed to reliance on searching, finding, catching or trapping (as with foragers and hunters). as conditions favored an increase in population, the nature of the relations among individuals and groups of individuals changed due to force of number. groups broke away from the main tribe in order to acquire a living environment with less competition for resources. alternatively, pragmatic requirements led to situations in which the number of people in a given area increased. with this increase, the nature of their relations became more complex. what is of interest here is the direction of change and the interplay of the many variables involved in it. definitely, one wants to know how scale and changes in practical experiences are related. does a discovery or invention predate a change in scale, or is the new scale a result of it or of several related phenomena? polygenetic explanations point to the many variables that affect developments as complex as those leading to discoveries of human practical experiences that result in increased populations and diversified pragmatic interactions. the major families of languages are associated, as archaeological and linguistic data prove, with places where the new pragmatic context of agriculture was established. one well documented example is that of two areas in china: the yellow river basin, where foxtail millet is documented, and the yangtzi river basin, where rice was domesticated. the austronesian languages spread from these areas over thousands of miles beyond. we have here an interesting correlation, even if only summarily illustrated, between the nature of human experience, the scale that makes it possible, and the spread of language. similar research bears evidence from the area called new guinea, where cultivation of taro tubers is identified with speakers of the papuan languages, covering large areas of territory as they searched for suitable land and encountered the opposition of foragers. natural abilities (such as yelling, throwing, running, plucking, breaking, bending) dominated a humankind constituted in groups and communities of reduced scale. abilities other than natural, such as planting, cooking, herding, singing, and using tools, emerge consciously, in knowledge of the cause, when the change of scale in population and effort required efficiency levels relative to the community, impossible to achieve at the natural level. such abilities developed very quickly. they led to the diversified means generated in practical experiences involving elements of planning (as rudimentary as it was at its beginning), reductionist strategies of survival and well-being (break a bigger problem into smaller parts, what will become the divide-and-conquer strategy), and coalition building. these involved acts of substitution, insertion, and omission, and continued with combinations of these at progressively higher levels. at a certain scale of human activity, the experience of work and the cognitive experience of storing information pertinent to work differentiated. do structural changes bring about a new scale, or does scale effect structural changes? the process is complex in the sense that the underlying structure of human activity is adapted to exigencies of survival fine tuned to the many factors influencing both individual and communal experiences. that scale and underlying structure are not independent results from the fact that possibilities as well as needs are reflected in scale. more individuals, with complementary skills, have a better chance to succeed in practical endeavors of increased complexity. their needs increase, too, since these individuals bring into the experience not only their person, but also commitments outside the experience. the underlying structure embodies elements characteristic of the human endowment-itself bound to change as the individual is challenged by new circumstances of life-and elements characteristic of the nature of human relations, affecting and being affected by scale. dynamic tensions between scale and the elements defining the underlying structure lead to changes in the pragmatic framework. language development is just one example of such changes. articulated speech emerged in the context of initial agricultural praxis as an extension of communication means used in hunting and food gathering. notation and more advanced tools emerged at a later juncture. crafts resulted from practical experiences made possible by such tools as work started to become specialized. writing was made possible by the cognitive experiences of notation and reading (no matter how primitive the reading was). writing emerged as practical human constitution extended to trade, to beyond the here-and-now and beyond co-presence. the underlying structure of literacy was well suited to the sequentiality characteristic of practical experiences, expression of dependencies, and deterministic processes. as already stated, successive forms of communication came about when the scale of interaction among humans expanded from one to several to many. literacy corresponded to a qualitatively different moment. if language can be associated with the human scale characteristic of the transition from hunting and foraging for food to producing it by means of agriculture, literacy can be associated with the next level of human interconditioning-production of means of production. one can use here the metaphor of critical mass or threshold, not to overwrite scale, but to define a value, a level of complexity, or a new attractor (as this is called in chaos theory). critical mass defines a lower threshold-until this value, interaction was still optimally carried out by means such as referential signs, representations based on likeness, or by speech. at the lower threshold, individuals and the groups they belong to can still identify themselves coherently. but a certain instability is noticeable: the same signs do not express similar or equivalent experiences. in this respect, critical mass refers to number or amount (of people, resources they share, interactions they are involved in, etc.) and to quality (differences in the result of the effort of self-constitution). former means are rendered inadequate by practical experiences of a different nature. new strategies for dealing with inadequacies result from the experience itself, as the optimization of the sign systems involved (signals, speech, notation, writing) result from the same. notation became necessary when the information to be stored (inventories, myths, genealogies) became more than what oral transmission could efficiently handle. critical mass explains why some cultures never developed literacy, as well as why a dominant literacy proves inadequate in our days. signs and tools practical experiences involving nature led to the realization of differences: colors that change with seasons, flora and fauna in their variety, variations in sky and weather. human need is externalized through hunting (maybe scavenging), fishing, finding shelter, and seeking one's own kind, either under sexual drive or for some collaborative effort. thus, multiplicity of nature is met by multiplicity of elementary operations. what resulted was a language of actions, with elements relevant to the task at hand. there was no real dialogue. in nature, screeches and hoots, in finite sequences, signal danger. otherwise, nature does not understand human signs, images, or sounds. for attracting and catching prey, or for avoiding danger, sounds, colors, and shapes can be involved. what qualifies them as signs is the infinity of variations and combinations required by the practical context. against the background of differences, human practical experiences resulted also in the realization of similarities in appearance and actions. awareness of similarities was embodied in means of interaction. they became signs once the experience stabilized in the constitution of a group coherently integrating the sign in its activity. elementary forms of praxis maintained individuals near the object upon which they acted, or upon which needs and plans for their fulfillment were projected. extraction of what was common to many tasks at hand translated into accumulation of experience. with experience, a certain distance between the individual, or group, and the task was introduced. the language of actions changed continuously. evaluation started as a comparison. it evolved into inclinations, repetitive patterns, and selections until it translated into a rule to be followed. interpretation of natural patterns connected to weather (what we call change of season, storm, drought, etc.), to observations concerning hunted animals, or digging for tubers, or to agriculture (as we define it in retrospect) resulted in the constitution of a repertory of observed characteristics and, over time, in a method of observation. once observed, phenomena were tested for relevancy and thus became signs. they integrated the observer, who memorized and associated them with successful patterns of action. in a way, this meant that reading- i.e., observation of all kinds of patterns and associations to tasks at hand-was in anticipation of notation and writing, and probably one of the major reasons for their progressive appearance. this reading filtered the relevant, that characteristic-of an animal, plant, weather pattern-which affected the attainment of desired goals. consequently, the language of actions gained in coherence, progressively involving more signs. rituals are a form of sharing and collective memory, a sui generis calendar, characteristic of an implicit sense of time. they are a training device in both understanding the signs pertaining to work and the strategy of action to follow when circumstances changed. in rituals, the unity between what is natural and what is human is continuously reaffirmed. tools are extensions of the physical reality of the human being. they are relevant as means for reaching a goal. signs, however, are means of self-reflection, and thus by their nature means of communication. tools, which can be interpreted as signs, too, are also an expression of the self-reflective nature of humans, but in a different way. what defines them is the function, not the meaning they might conjure in a communicational context. by their nature, tools require integration. in retrospect, tools appear to us as instances of self-constitution at a scale different from the natural scale of the physical world in which individuals created them. the difference is reflected in their efficiency in the first place, but also in the implicit correlations they embody. some are tools for individual use; others require cooperation with other persons. sign activity at such primitive stages of humankind marked the transcendence from accidental to systematic. the use of tools and the relative uniform structure of the tasks performed contributed to a sense of method. tools testify to the close and homogenous character of the pragmatic framework of primitive humans. the syncretic nature of the signs of practical experiences were reflected in the syncretism of tools and signs. what we today call religion, art, science, philosophy, and ethics were represented, in nuce, in the sign in an undifferentiated, syncretic manner. observations of repetitive patterns and awareness of possible deviations blended. externalized in these complex signs, individuals strove towards making them understandable, unequivocal, and easy to preserve over time. think about such categories as syncretism, understanding, repetitive patterns in practical terms. a sign can be a beat. it should be easily perceived even under adverse conditions (noise from thunder, the howl of animals). humans should be able to associate it with the same consequences (run! should not be confused with halt!; throw! should not be confused with don't throw! or some other unrelated action). this univocal association must be maintained over time. as practical experiences diversified, so did the generation of signs. rhythm, color, shape, body expression and movement, as experienced in daily life, were integrated in rituals. things were shown as they are- animal heads, antlers and claws, tree branches and trunks, huge rocks split apart. their transformation was performed through the use of fire, water, and stones shaped to cut, or to help in shaping other stones. it is quite difficult for us today to understand that for the primitive mind, likeness produced and explained likeness, that there was no connotation, that everything had immediate practical implications. what was shared, here and now, or between one short-lived generation and the next, was an experience so undifferentiated that sometimes even the distinction between action and object of action (such as hunting and prey, plowing and soil, collecting and the collected fruit, etc.) was difficult to make. the process of becoming a human being is one of constituting its own nature. externalizing characteristics (predominantly biological, but progressively also spiritual) to be shared within the emergent human culture is part of the process we have come to understand that there is no such thing as the world on one side and a subject reflecting it on another. the appearance, which descartes turned into the premise of the rational discourse adopted by western civilization, makes us fall captive to representational explanations rather than to ontogenetic descriptions. human beings identify themselves, and thus the species they belong to, by accounting for similarities and distinctions. these pertain to their existence, and sharing in the awareness of these similarities and distinctions is part of human interaction. as such, the world is constituted almost at the same time as it is discovered. this contradictory dynamics of identity and distinction makes it possible to see how language is something other than the "image of our thoughts," as lamy once put it, obviously in the tradition of descartes. language is also something other than the act of using it. we make our language the way we continuously make ourselves. this making does not come about in a vacuum, but in the pragmatic framework of our interdependencies. the transition from directness and immediateness to indirectness and mediation, along with the notions of space and time appropriated in the process, is in many ways reflected in the process of language constitution. the emergence of signs, their functioning, the constitution of language, and the emergence of writing seem to point to both the self- definition and preservation of human nature, as these unfold in the practical act of the species' self-constitution. from orality to writing tracing the origin of language to early nuclei of agriculture, as many authors do (peter bellwood, paul k. benedict, colin renfrew, robert blust, among them), is tantamount to acknowledging the pragmatic foundation of the practical experience of language of human beings. language is not a passive witness to human dynamics. diversity of practical experience is reflected in language and made possible through the practical experience of language. the origins of language, as much as the origins of writing, lie in the realm of the natural. this is why considerations regarding the biological condition of the individual interacting with the outside world are extremely important. practical experiences of self-constitution in language are constitutive of culture. the act of writing, together with that of tool-making, is constitutive of a species increasingly defining its own nature. considerations regarding culture are accordingly no less important than those concerning the biological identity of the human being. let us point to some implications of the biological factor. we know that the number of sounds, for instance, that humans can produce when they push air through their mouths is very high. however, out of this practically infinite number of sounds, only slightly more than forty are identifiable in the indo-european languages, as opposed to the number of sounds produced in the chinese and japanese languages. while it is impossible to show how the biological make-up of individuals and the structure of their experience are projected onto the system of language, it would be unwise not to account for this projection as it occurs at every moment of our existence. when humans speak, muscles, vocal chords, and other anatomical components are activated and used according to the characteristics of each. people's voices differ in many ways and so subtly that to identify people through voice alone is difficult. when we speak, our hearing is also involved. in writing, as well as in reading, this participation extends to sight. other dynamic features such as eye movement, breathing, heartbeat, and perspiration come into play as well. what we are, do, say, write, or read are related. the experience behind language use and the biological characteristics of people living in a language differ to such an extent that almost never will similar events, even the simplest, be similarly accounted for in language (or in any other sign system, for that matter) by different persons. the first history, or the personal inquiry into the probable course of past events, rests upon orality, integrates myths, and ends up with the attempt to refer events to places, as well as to time. logographers try to reconstruct genealogies of persons involved in real events (wars, founding of clans, tribes, or dynasties, for example) or in the dominant fiction of a period (e.g., the epics attributed to homer, or the book of genesis in the bible). in the transition from remembrance (mnemai) to documented accounts (logoi), human beings acquired what we call today consciousness of time or of history. they became aware of differences in relating to the same events. the entire encoding of social experience, from very naive forms (concerning family, religion, illness) to very complex rules (of ceremony, power, military conduct) is the result of human practice diversified with the participation of language. the tension between orality and writing is, respectively, an expression of the tension between a more homogeneous way of life and the ever diversifying new forms that broke through boundaries accepted for a very long time. in the universe of the many chinese languages, this is more evident than in western languages. chinese ideographic writing, which unifies the many dialects used in spoken chinese, preserves concreteness, and as such preserves tradition as an established way of relating to the world. within the broader chinese culture, every effort was made to preserve characteristics of orality. the philosophy derived from such a language defends, through the fundamental principle of tao in confucianism, an established and shared mechanism of transmitting knowledge. unlike spoken language, writing is fairly recent. some scholars (especially haarmann) consider that writing did not appear until , to , bce; others extend the time span to , bce and beyond. to repeat: it is not my intention to reconstitute the history of writing or literacy. it makes little sense to rekindle disputes over chronology, especially when new findings, or better interpretations of old findings, are not at hand or are not yet sufficiently convincing. the so-called boundaries between oral and post-oral cultures, as well as between non-literate, literate, and what are called post-literate, or illiterate, cultures are difficult to determine. it is highly unlikely that we shall ever be able to discover whether images (cave drawings or petroglyphs) antecede or come after spoken language. probably languages involving notation, drawings, etchings, and rituals-with their vast repertory of articulated gestures-were relatively simultaneous. some historians of writing ascertain that without the word, there could be no image. others reject the logocratic model and suggest that images preceded the written and probably even the spoken. many speculate on the emergence of rituals, placing them before or after drawing, before or after writing. i suggest that primitive human expression is syncretic and polymorphous, a direct consequence of a pragmatic framework of self-constitution that ascertains multiplicity. individual and collective memory anthropologists have tried to categorize the experience transmitted in order to understand how orality and, later, writing (primitive notation, in fact) refer to the particular categories. researchers point to the material surroundings-resources, in the most general way-to successful action, and to words as pertaining to the more general framework (time, space, goals, etc.). speculation goes as far as to suggest that these human beings became increasingly dependent on artifactual means of notation. as a consequence, they relied less on the functions of the brain's right hemisphere. in turn, this resulted in decreased acuteness of these functions. some even go so far as to read here an incipient weltanschauung, a perspective and horizon of the world. they are probably wrong because they apply an explanatory model already influenced by language (product of a civilization of literacy) on a very unsettled human condition. in order to achieve some stability and permanence, as dictated by the instinctive survival of the species, this human condition was projected in various sequences of signs still unsettled in a language. the very objects of direct experience were the signs. this experience eventually settled and became more uniform through the means and constraints of orality. language is not a direct expression of experience, as the same anthropologists think. in fact, language is also less comprehensive than the signs leading to it. before any conversation can take place, something else-experience within the species-is shared and constitutes the background for future sharing. face to face encounter, scavenging, hunting, fishing, finding natural forms of shelter, etc., became themselves signs when they no longer were related only to survival, but embodied practical rules and the need to share. sharing is the ultimate qualifier for a sign, especially for a language. tools, cave paintings, primitive forms of notation, and rituals addressed collective memory, no matter how limited this collective was. words addressed individual memory and became means of individual differentiation. individual needs and motivations need to be understood in their relation to those of groups. signs and tools are elements that were integrated in differentiation. to understand the interplay between them, we could probably benefit from modern cognitive research of distributed and centralized authority. tools are of a distributed nature. they are endlessly changed and tested in individual or cooperative efforts. signs, as they result from human interaction, seem to emanate from anything but the individual. as such, they are associated with incipient centralized authority. these remarks define a conceptual viewpoint rather than describe a reality to which none of us has or can have access. but in the absence of such a conceptual premise, inferences, mine or anybody else's, are meaningless. the distinctions introduced above point to the need to consider at least three stages before we can refer to language: . integration in the group of one's kind in direct forms of interaction: touching, passing objects from one to another, recognition through sounds, gestures, satisfying instinctual drives; . awareness of differences and similarities expressed in direct ways: comparison by juxtaposition, equalization by physical adjustment; . stabilization of expressions of sameness or difference, making them part of the practical act. from the time same and different were perceived in their degree of generality, directness and immediateness was progressively lost. layers of understanding, together with rules for generating coherent expressions, were accumulated, checked against an infinity of concrete situations, related to signs still used (objects, sounds, gestures, colors, etc.), and freed from the demand of unequivocal or univocal meaning. all these means of expression were socialized in the process of production (the making of artifacts, hunting, fishing, plowing, etc.) and self-reproduction until they became language. once they became language-talked about things and actions-this language removed itself from the objects and the making or doing. this removal made it appear more and more as a given, an entity in itself, a reality to fear or enjoy, to use or compare one's actions to the actions of others. the time it took for this process to unfold was very long-hundreds of thousands of years (if we can imagine this in our age of the instant). the process is probably simultaneous to the formation of larger brains and upright posture. it included biological changes connected to the self- constitution of the species and its survival within a framework different from the natural. it nevertheless acknowledged the natural as the object of action and even change. the functional need for distinctions explains morphological aspects; the pragmatic context suggests how the shift from the scale of one-to-one direct interaction to one-to-many by the intermediary of language takes place. concreteness, i.e., closeness to the object, is also symptomatic of the limited shared universe. these languages are very localized because they result from localized experiences. they externalize a limited awareness, and make possible a very restricted development of both the experience and the language associated with it. as we shall see later on, a structurally similar situation can be identified in the world today, not on some island, as the reader might suspect, but on the islands of specialized work as we constitute them in our economies. obsessed with (or driven by) efficiency, and oriented towards maximizing it, we use strategies of integration and coordination which were not possible in the ages of language constitution. but let us get back to the place of the spoken (before the emergence of notation and the written) and its cultural function in the lives of human communities. the memory before the word was the memory of repeated actions, the memory of gestures, sounds, odors, and artifacts. structuring was imposed from outside-natural cycle (of day and night, of seasons, of aging), and natural environment (riverside, mountainside, valley, wooded region, grassy plains). the outside world gave the cues. participants acted according to them and to the cues of previous experience as this was directly passed from one person to another. long before astrology, it was geomancy (association of topographical features to people or outcomes of activity) that inhabited people's reading of the environment and resulted in various glyphs (petroglyphs, geoglyphs). initially remembering referred to a place, later on to a sequence of events. only with language did time come into the picture. remembrance was dictated minimally by instinct and was only slightly genetic in nature. with the word, whose appearance implied means for recognizing and eventually recording words, a fundamental shift occurred. the word entered human experience as a relational sign. it associated object and action. together with tools, it constituted culture as the unity between who we are (identity), what our world is (object of work, contemplation, and questioning), and what we do (to survive, reproduce, change). at this moment, culture and awareness of it affected practical experiences of human self-constitution. simultaneously, an important split occurred: genetic memory remained in charge of the human being's biological reality, while social memory took over cultural reality. nevertheless, they were not independent of each other. the nature of their interdependence is characteristic of each of the changes in the scale of humankind that interests us here. if we could describe what it takes for individuals to congregate, what they need to know or understand in order to hunt, to forage, to begin herding and agriculture, we would still not know how well they would have to perform. in retrospect, it seems that there was a predetermined path from the stage of primitive development to what we are today. assuming the existence of such a path, we still do not know at what moment one type of activity no longer satisfied expectations of survival and other paths needed to be pursued. once we involve the notion of scale in our cognitive modeling, we get some answers important for understanding not only orality and writing, but also the process leading to literacy and the post-literate. cultural memory memory, in its incipient stages (comparable to childhood, at the beginning of human culture), as well as in its new functions today, deserves our entire attention. for the time being, we can confidently assume that before cultural memory was established, genetic memory, from genetic code to the inner clock and homeostatic mechanisms, dominated the inheritance mechanisms related to survival, reproduction, and social interaction. the emphasis brought by words is from inheritance to transmission of experience. rituals changed; they integrated verbal language and gained a new status-syncretic projections of the community. language opened the possibility to describe efficient courses of action. it also described generic programs for such diverse activities as navigating, hunting, fire-making, producing tools, etc. expressions in language were of a level of generality that direct action and the ritual could not reach. in images preceding words, thought and action followed a circular sequence: one was embedded in the other. a circular relation corresponded to the reduced scale of the incipient species: no growth, input and output in balance. only when the circle was opened was a sense of progression ascertained. the circular framework can be easily defined as corresponding to the identity between the result of the effort and the effort. obviously, chasing and catching prey required a major physical effort. the reward at this stage was nothing more nor less than satisfied hunger. let us divide the result by the effort. the outcome of this division is a very intuitive representation of efficiency or usefulness. the circular stage maintained the two variables close to each other, and the ratio around the value of : . the framework of linear relations started with awareness of how efforts could be reduced and usefulness increased. the linear sequence of activities was deterministically connected-the stronger the person, the more powerful in throwing, thrusting and hauling; the longer the legs, the faster the run, etc. language was a product of the change from the circular framework, embodied in foraging, but also a factor affecting the dynamics and the direction followed, i.e., agriculture. in language the circle was opened in the sense that sequences were made possible and generality, once achieved, generated further levels of generality. from direct interaction coordinated by instinct, biological rhythm, etc., to interaction coordinated by melodic sound, movement, fire signals, to communication based on words, the human species ascertained its existence among other species. it also ascertained a sense of purpose and progression. the pragmatics of myths is one of progression. it extends well into our age, in forms that suit the scale of humankind-progression from tribal life to the polis, ancient cities-and its activities. in today's terminology, we can look at myths as algorithms of practical life. in the ritual, giving birth, selecting a mate, fruitful sexual relations-all related to reproduction and death-could be approached within the implicit circularity of action-reaction. in myths, the word of the language conveys a relatively depersonalized experience available to each and all. since it was objectified in language, it took on the semblance of rules. in language, things are remembered; but also forgotten, or made forgotten, for reasons having to do with new circumstances of work and social life. change in experience was reflected in the change of everything pertinent to the experience as it was preserved in language. quite often, in the act of transmitting experience, details were changed, myths were transmuted. they became new programs for new goals and new circumstances of work. generally speaking, the emergence and cultural acquisition of language and the change of status of the human being from homo faber (tool-using human) to homo sapiens (thinking human) were parallel processes within the pragmatic framework of linear relations between actions and results. the pre-language stage of relatively homogeneous activities, of directness and immediateness, of relative equality between the effort and the result progressively came to an end. the need to describe, categorize, store, and retrieve the content of diversified, indirect, mediated experience was projected into the reality of language, within the experience of human self- constitution. the relevance of experience to the task at hand was replaced by the anticipated relevancy of structuring future tasks in order to minimize effort and maximize outcome. frames of existence the oral phase of language made it difficult, if not impossible, to account for past events. testimony in communities researched while still in the oral phase (see lévi- strauss, among others) shows that they could not maintain the semantic integrity of the discourse. words uttered in a never-ending now-the implicit notion of present-seem to automatically reinvent the past according to the exigencies of the immediate. the past, during the oral phase of language, was a form of present, and so was the future, since there are no instruments to project the word along the axis of time. orality is associated with fixed frames of existence and practical life. the culture of the written word resulted from the introduction of a variable frame of existence, within which a new pragmatic framework, corresponding to a growing scale of human activity, required a stable outline of language. this outline of language-over short time intervals it appears as a fixed frame of reference-can be associated with more mobile, more dynamic frames of existence and practical experiences, whose output follows the dynamic of the linear relations it embodies. work and social interaction-in short, the pragmatic dimension of human existence-made the recording of language necessary and impressed linearity upon it. a cuneiform notation, over , years old, testifies to a sumerian who looked at the nightly skies and saw a lion, a bull, and a scorpion. more importantly, it demonstrates how a practical experience constitutes a cognitive filter: what people saw when they looked at something unknown and for which no name was constituted, and how disjoint worlds-the earthly environment and the sky-were put in relation at this phase of language constitution. this is even more important in view of the fact that as an isolated language, sumerian survives only in writing, a product of that "budding flower" as a. and s. sherrat described it, referring to the agricultural heartland of southwest asia where many language families originated. writing, which takes place in many respects at a higher cognitive level than the production and utterance of the word, or than in pictographic notation, is a multi- relational device. it makes possible relations between different words, between different sentences, between images and language. from its incipient phase, it also related disjoint worlds, but at a level other than that achieved in sumerian cuneiform notation. writing facilitates and further necessitates the next level of a language, which is the text, an entity in which its parts lose their individual meaning while the whole constitutes the message or is conjured into meaning. the experience already gained in visual records, such as drawing, rock engravings, and wood carvings, was taken over in the experience of the written word. the pictorial was a highly complex notation with a vast number of components, some visible (the written), some invisible (the phonetics), and few rules of association. within the pictorial, sequences are formed which narrate events or actions in their natural succession. what comes first in the sequence is also prior (in time) to everything else, or it has a more important place in a hierarchy. the male-female relation, or that between free individuals and slaves, between native and foreign was embedded here. even the direction of writing (from left to right, right to left, top to bottom) encodes important information about the people constituting their identity in the practical experience of engraving letters on tablets or painting them on parchment. the very concrete nature of the pictograms prevents generalization. expression was enormously rich, precision practically impossible to achieve. the detailed history of writing makes up many chapters in the history of languages. it is also a useful introduction to the history of knowledge, aesthetics, and most likely cognitive science. this history also details processes characteristic of the beginning of literacy. probably more than , years passed between the time of cave paintings and rock engravings and the first acknowledged attempt at writing. from the perspective of literacy, this time span comprised the liberation of the human being from the pictorially concrete and the establishment of the realm of conventions, of purposeful encoding. abstract thinking is not possible without the cognitive support of abstract representations and the sharing of conventions (some implicit) they embody. the wedge-shaped letters of sumerian cuneiform, the sacred engraved notations of egyptian hieroglyphics, the chinese ideograms, the hebrew, greek, and roman alphabets-all have in common the need to overcome concreteness. they offer a system of abstract notation for increasingly more complex languages. until writing, language was still close to its users and bore their mark. it was their voice, and their seeing, hearing, and touching. with writing, language was objectified, freed from the subject and the senses. the development towards written language, and from written language to initially limited and then generalized literacy, paralleled the evolution from satisfying immediate needs (the circular relation) to extending and increasing demand (the linear function) of a mediated nature. the difference between needs related to survival and needs that are no longer a matter of survival but of social status (power, ego, fear, pleasure, incipient forms of conviction, etc.) is represented through language, itself seen as part of the continuous self-constitution of the human being in a particular pragmatic framework. the alienation of immediacy the term alienation requires a short explanation. generally, it is used to describe the estrangement, through work, of human beings from the object of their effort. awareness of having one's life turned into products, which then appear to those who made them as entities in themselves, open to anybody to appropriate them in the market, is an expression of alienation. there are quite a number of other descriptions, but basically, alienation is a process of having something that is part of us (our bodies, thoughts, work, feelings, beliefs, etc.) revealed as foreign. rooting the explanation of this very significant process of alienation (and of the concept representing it in language) in the establishment and use of signs, makes possible the understanding of its pragmatic implications. awareness of signs is awareness of the difference between who we are and how we express our identity. in the case of signs representing some object (the drawing of the object or of the person, the name, social security number, passport, etc.), the difference between what is represented and the representation is as much an issue of appropriateness (why we call a table table or a certain woman mary) as it is one of alienation. the conscious use of signs most probably results from the observation people make that their thoughts, feelings, or questions are almost always imperfectly expressed. two things happen, probably at the same time: . no longer dealing directly with the object, or intended action, but with its representation, makes it more difficult to share with others experiences pertinent to the object. . the interpretation being no longer one of the direct object, or the intended action, but of its representation, it leads to new experiences, and thus associations-some confusing, and others quite stimulating. the image was still close to the object; the confusion regarded actions. writing is remote from objects, though actions can be better described since differentiation of time is much easier. we know by now that moving images, or sequences of photographs of the action, are even better for this purpose. with the written word, even in the most primitive use of it, events become the object of record. relations, as well as reciprocal commitments among community members, can also be put in the records. norms can be established and imposed. a fundamental change, resulting from the increased productivity of the newly settled communities, is accounted for in writing. people no longer deal with work in order to live (in order to survive, actually), but with life dedicated to work. writing, more than previously used signs (sounds, images, movements, colors), estranges human beings from the environment and from themselves. some feelings (joy, sadness), some attitudes (anger, mistrust) become signs and, once expressed, can be written down (e.g., in letters, wills). in order to be shared, thoughts go through the same process, and so does everything else pertaining to life, activity, change, illness, love, and death. it was stated many times that writing and the settlement of human beings are related. so are writing and the exchange of goods, as well as what will become known as labor division. while the use of verbal language makes possible the differentiation of human praxis, the use of written language requires the division between physical and non-physical work. writing requires skills, such as those needed for using a stylus to engrave in wax or clay, quill on parchment, later the art of calligraphy. it implies knowledge of language and of its rules of grammar and spelling. there is a great difference between writing skills and the skills needed for processing animal skins, meat, various agricultural products, and raw materials. the social status of scribes proves only that this difference was duly acknowledged. it should be added here that the few who mastered writing were also the few who mastered reading. nevertheless, some historic reference points to the contrary: in the th century, non-reading subjects were used as scribes because the accuracy of their undisturbed copying was better than that of those who read. this reference is echoed today in the use of non-english speaking operators to key-in texts, i.e., to transfer accumulated records into digital databases. and while the number of readers increased continuously, the number of writers, lending their hands as scribes to real writers, remained small for many centuries. literacy started as an elitist overhead expenditure in primitive economies, became an elitist occupation surrounded by prejudices and superstition, expanded after technological progress (however rudimentary) facilitated its dissemination, and was finally validated in the marketplace as a prerequisite for the higher efficiency of the industrial age. primitive barter did not rely on and did not require the written word, although barter continued even after the place of written language became secure. in barter, people interact by exchanging whatever they produce in order to fulfill their immediate needs within a diversified production. the alienation peculiar to barter and the alienation characteristic of a market relying on the mediating function of written language are far from being one and the same. in short, exchanging is fundamentally different from selling and buying. products to be exchanged still bear the mark of those who sweat to produce them. products to be sold become impersonal; their only identity is the need they might satisfy or sometimes generate. myth, as a set of practical programs for a limited number of local human experiences, no longer satisfied exigencies of a community diversifying its experience and interacting with communities living in different environments. this contrast of market forms characteristic of orality and of incipient writing is related to the contrast between myth transmitted orally and mythology, associated with the experience of writing. language in its written form appeared as a sui generis social memory, as potential history. the obsession with genealogies (in china, india, egypt, among the hebrews, and in oral culture in general) was an obsession with human sequences stored in a memory with social dimensions. it was also an obsession with time, since each genealogical line is simultaneously a historic record-who did what, when and where; who followed; and how things changed. most of these aspects are only implicit in genealogy. in oral culture, genealogies were turned into mnemonic devices, easily adjustable to new conditions of life, but still circular, and just as easily transformable from a record of the past into a command for the future. in its incipient phases as notation and record, genealogy still relied on images to a great extent (the family tree), but also on the spoken, maintaining a variability similar to that of the oral. nevertheless, the possibility for more stabilized expression, for storing, for uniformity, and consistency was given in the very structure of writing. these were progressively reached in the first attempts to articulate ideas, concepts, and what would become the corpus of theoria- contemplation of things translated into language-on which the sciences and humanities of yesterday, and even some of today, are based. theories are in some ways genealogies, with a root and branches representing hypotheses and various inferences. written language extended the permanence of records (genealogies, ownership, theories, etc.) and facilitated access through relatively uniform codes. in the city-states of ancient greece, writing alerted people working within the pragmatic constraints of orality to the dangers involved in a new mechanism of expression and communication. writing seemed to introduce its own inaccuracies, either because of a deliberate attitude towards certain experiences, or as a result of systematic avoidance of inconsistency, which ended up affecting the records of facts. as we know, facts are not intrinsically consistent in their succession. therefore, we still use all kinds of strategies to align them, even if they are obliquely random. in the oral mode, as opposed to procedures later introduced through writing, consistency was maintained by a succession of adaptations in the sequence of conversations through which records were transmitted. within oral communication, there is a direct form of criticism, i.e., the self-adjusting function of dialogue. completeness and consistency are different in conversation (open-ended) than in written text, and even more different in formal languages. memory itself was also at issue. reliance on the written might affect memory- which was the repository of a people's tradition and identity in the age of orality- because it provided an alternative medium for storage. the written has a different degree of expression and leaves a different impression than the oral. writing, confined to those who read, could also affect constitution and sharing of knowledge. writing was characterized as superficial, not reaching the soul (again, lacking expressiveness), interfering between the source of knowledge and the receiver of any lesson about knowledge. spoken words are the words of the person speaking them. a written text seems to take on a life of its own and appears as external, alien. the written is given and does not account for differences among human beings; the spoken can be adapted or changed, its coherence dependent upon the circumstances of the dialogue. there are societies today (the netsidik, the nuer, the bassari, to name a few) that still prefer the oral to the written. within their pragmatic framework, the live expression of the human uttering the words in the presence of others conveys more information than the same words can in writing. the memory of a literate society becomes more and more a repository of the various mediations in social life and loses its relation to direct experience. things said (what the greeks called legomena) are different from things done (dromena). the written word connects to other words, not to things done. and so does the sentence, when it acquires its status as a relatively complete unit of language. but the real change is brought about by the written, whether on papyrus, clay, scroll or tablet, or in stone or lead. such a page connects to other written pages and to writing in general. thus, things done disappear in the body of history, which becomes the collection of writings, eventually stored on bookshelves. the meaning of history is expressed in the variability of the connections ascertained from one text to another. when the here and now of dromena are expurgated, we remain only with the consciousness of sequences. this is a gain, but also a loss: the holistic meaning of experience vanishes. how much of this kind of criticism, opposing the oral to the written, is relevant to the phenomena of our time cannot be evaluated in a simple statement. language has changed so much that in order to understand texts originating at the time of this criticism, we have to translate and annotate them. some are already reconstituted from writings of a later time (i.e., of a different pragmatic framework), or even from translations. there is no direct correspondence between the literacy of emergent writing and that of automated writing and reading. in some cases we have to define a contextual reference in the absence of which large parts of these recuperated texts make little sense, if any, to people constituted in literacy and in a pragmatic reality so different from that of thousands of years ago. even written words are dependent on the context in which they are used. in other words, although it seems that written language is less alive than conversation, and less bound to change, it actually changes. we write today, using technologies for word processing, in ways different from any other practical experience of writing. the criticism voiced in plato's time cannot be entirely dismissed. writing became the medium through which some human experiences were reified. it allowed for extreme subjectivity: in the absence of dialogue and of the influence of criticism through dialogue, the past was continuously reinvented according to goals and values of the writer's present. in orality-dominated social life, opinion (which greeks called doxa) was the product of language activity, and it had to be immediate. in writing, truth is sought and preserved. what made socrates sound so fierce (at least in plato's dialogues) in his attacks against writing was his intuition of progressive removal from the source of thinking, hence the danger of unfaithful interpretation. socrates, as well as plato, feared indirectness and wrote conclusively about memory and wisdom. situated between socrates and aristotle, plato could observe and express the consequences of writing: "i cannot help feeling, phaedrus, that writing is unfortunately like painting; for the creations of the painter have the attitude of life, and yet if you ask them a question they preserve a solemn silence." as one of the first philosophers of writing, plato could not yet observe that writing is not simply the transcription of thoughts (of the words through which and in which humans think), that ideas are formed differently in writing than in speech, that writing represents a qualitatively new sign system in which meanings are formed and communicated through a mechanism once more mediated in respect to practical reality. the subject of confidence in language became the central theme of the sophists' exercise, of medieval philosophy, of romanticism, and of the literature of the absurd (symptomatically popular in the years following world war ). moving from the past to the present, we notice that memory is an issue of extreme importance today, too. literacy challenges the reliability of memory across the board, even when memory is the repository of facts through which people establish themselves in the world of work. professionals ranging from doctors, lawyers, and military commanders to teachers, nurses, and office personnel rely more on memory than do factory workers on an assembly line. the paradox is that the more educated a professional is, the less he or she needs to rely on literacy in the exercise of his or her profession, except in the initial learning process, which is made through books. with the advent of video and cassette tapes or disks, with digital storage and networks, literacy loses its supremacy as transmitter of knowledge. what makes language necessary is also what explains its history and its characteristics. language came to life in a process through which humans projected themselves into the reality of their existence, identified themselves in respect to natural and social environments, and followed a path of linear growth. orality testifies to limited, circular experiences but corresponds to an unsettled human being in search of well being and security. it relied on memory for the most part and was assimilated in ritual. the written appeared in the context of several fundamental changes: diversified human praxis, settlement, and a market that outgrew barter, each related and influencing the other. its main result was the division between mental and physical labor. it made speaking, writing, and reading-characteristics of literacy, as we know it from the perspective of literate societies-logically possible. in fact, it represented only the possibility of literacy, not its beginning. once we understand how language works and what were some of the functions of language that corresponded to the new stage made possible by writing, we shall also understand how writing contributed to the future ideal of literacy. orality and writing today: what do people understand when they understand language? sitting before your computer, you connect to the world wide web. what is of interest today? how about something in neurosurgery? somewhere on this planet, a neurosurgeon is operating. you can see individual neurons triggering right on your monitor. or you can view how the surgeon tests the patient's pattern recognition abilities, allowing the surgeon to draw a map of the brain's cognitive functioning, a map essential for the outcome of the operation. every now and then the dialogue between surgeon and assistants is complemented by the display of data coming from different monitoring devices. can you understand the language they are using? could a written report of the operation substitute for the real-time event? for a student in neurosurgery, or for a researcher, the issue of understanding is very different from what it would be for a lay-person. tired of science? a concert is taking place at another internet address. musical groups from all over the world are sending their live music to this address. as a multi- threaded performance, this concert enables its listeners to select from among the many simultaneously performing groups. they sing about love, hope, understanding...all the themes that each listener is familiar with. still, understanding every word the musicians use, do you understand what is taking place? moving away from the internet, one could visit a factory, a stock exchange, a store. one could find oneself in subway in any city, witness a first-grade class in session, or pursue business in a government office. all these scenarios embody the various forms of self-constitution through practical activity. it seems that everyone involved is talking the same language, but who understands what? in seemingly simpler contexts, what do individuals understand today when they understand a written instruction or conversations, casual or official? the context is our day, which is different from that of any previous time, and, in particular, different from that of a literacy- dominated pragmatics. the answers to the questions posed above do not come easily. a foundation has to be provided for addressing such questions from a perspective broader than that afforded by the examples given. a feedback called confirmation understanding language is a process that extends far beyond knowledge of vocabulary and grammar. where there is no sharing of experience beyond what a particular language sequence expresses, there is no understanding. this sounds like a difficult expectation. to be met, the non-expressed must be present in the listener, reader, or writer. language must recreate the non-expressed, through the sequence heard, read, or written, and related to it, beyond the words recognized and the grammar used. behind each word that people comprehend, there is either a common practical experience, or a shared pragmatic framework, or minimally some form of shared understanding, which constitute what is known as background knowledge. "the limits of my language mean the limits of my world," wittgenstein promulgated. i would rephrase, in an attempt to connect knowledge and experience, "the limits of my experience are the limits of my world." self-constitution in language is such an experience. the first level of the indirect relation established between someone expressing something in language and someone else trying to understand it is concentrated in a semantic assumption: "i know that you know." but is it a sufficient condition to continue a conversation, let's say about a hunted animal, fire, or a tool, as long as the listener knows what the hunted animal or fire is? many who study semantics think that it is, and accordingly devise strategies for establishing a shared semantic background. these strategies range from making sure that students in a class understand the same things when they use the same words, to publishing comprehensive dictionaries of what they perceive as the necessary shared knowledge in order to maintain cultural coherence at the appropriate scale of the group or community in question. in the final analysis, these strategies correspond to a semantically based model of cultural education driven by the chomskyan distinction between competence and performance. they identify the problem in the incongruence of our individual dictionaries (vocabulary), not in the diversity of human practical experiences. the assumption is that once people understand what is in language, they apply it (pragmatics as "uses and effects of signs within the behavior in which they occur," according to j. lyons). we know by now that after a certain stage of unifying influences corresponding to industrial society, this congruence becomes impossible when the scale of human experience changes. the examples given at the beginning of this chapter are evidence of this fact. what i maintain throughout this book is that language is constituted in human experiences, not merely applied to them. performance predates competence. recognition, of an utterance, a written word, a sentence, is itself an experience through which individuals define each one of themselves. within a limited scale of existence and experience, the homogeneity of the circumstance guaranteed the coherence of language use. as the number of people increases, and as they are involved in increasingly varied experiences, they no longer share a homogeneous pragmatic framework. consequently, they can no longer assume the coherence of language. progressively, ever diversifying practical experiences cause words, phrases, and sentences to mean more and different things at the same time. instantiation of meaning is always in the experience through which individuals constitute their identity. examination of the various elements affecting the status of literacy in the contemporary world of fragmented practical experiences opens a new perspective on language. within this perspective, we acknowledge how and when similar experiences make the unifying framework of literacy possible and necessary. we also acknowledge from which point literacy is complemented by literacies and what, if anything, bridges among such literacies. direct experience and mediated experience are the two stages to be considered. in particular, we are interested in language at the level where direct experience is affected by the insertion of gestures, sounds, and initial words. indirectness implies awareness of a shared reference-the gesture, the sound, the word-that is simultaneously shared experience. at this level, there is no generality. patterns of activity are patterns of self-constitution: in the act of hunting, the hunter projects physical abilities (running, seeing, ability to use the terrain, to grab stones, to target). in relation to other hunters, he projects abilities pertinent to coordination, planning, and reciprocal understanding. within this pragmatic framework, a level of indirectness is constituted: confirmation, or what cybernetics identifies as feedback, in all biological processes. along this line, the initial (unuttered and obviously unwritten) "i know that you know" becomes subsequently "i know that you know that i know." coordination and hierarchy within the given task come into the picture. indeed, if we consider the experience as the origin of meaning in language, the sequence of assumptions is even larger: "i know that you know that i know that you know." it corresponds to a cognitive level totally different from that of direct practical experiences. in a way, this threefold sequence shows how syntax is enveloped in semantics, and both in the pragmatics that determines them. applied to the hunting scene, it says, "i know that you know that i am over here, opposite you, we are both closing in on a hunted animal, and i know that you are aware that you might throw your spear in my direction; but the fact that we share in the knowledge of who is placed where will help us get the animal and not kill each other by accident." at a very small scale of human experiences, the sequence was realized without language. patterns of activity captured its essence. at a larger scale, words replaced signs used for coordination. writing established frames of reference and a medium for planning more complex activities. the language of drawings, for what eventually became artifacts, confirmed the sequence in the built-in knowledge. the internet browser, a graphic interface to an infinity of simultaneous experiences of sharing information, frees participants from saying to each other, "hello. i am here." it facilitates a virtual community of individuals who constitute the experience of real-time neurosurgery, or the virtual concert mentioned at the beginning of this section. in similar ways, new patterns of work in the civilization of illiteracy constitute our work-place, school, or government, based on the same pragmatic assumptions. between the primitive hunters and those who in our days identify their presence by all kinds of devices-a badge, a pager, a mobile phone, an access card, a password-there is a difference in the means and forms used to acknowledge the shared awareness that affects the outcome of the experience. even the simple act of greeting someone we think we know implies the whole sequence of feedback (double confirmation, each participant's awareness, and shared awareness). this says, probably in too many words: . to understand language means to understand all the others with whom we share practical experiences of self-constitution. . all the others must realize this implicit expectation of communication. . each new pragmatic context brings about new experiences and new forms of awareness. this understanding can go something along the line of, "i know that you know that i know that you know" what the hunted animal is, what fire is, which tool can be used and how; or in today's context, what surgery is, what a brain is, what a virtual concert is, what a certain activity in a production cycle affects, what the function of a particular government office is. otherwise, the conversation would stop, or another means of expression (such as recreating fire, or demonstrating a tool) would have to be used, as happened in the past and as frequently happens today: "i know that you know how to drive a car (or use a computer), but let me show you how." confirmation in language, gestures, and facial expression signals the understanding. whenever this understanding fails, it fails on account of the missing confirmation. when this confirmation is no longer uniquely provided by means characteristic of literacy-let us recall modern warfare, technology controlling nuclear reactors, electronic transactions-the need for literacy is subject to doubt. since the majority of instruction conveyed today is through images (drawings), or image and sound (videotapes), or some combination of media, it is not surprising that literacy is met with skepticism, if not by those who teach, at least by those who are taught. in the pragmatics of their existence they already live beyond the literate understanding. this applies not only to the internet, but just as well to places of work, schools, government, and other instances of pragmatic activity. primitive orality and incipient writing in addition to the general background of understanding, there are many levels, represented by the clues present in speech or writing, or in other forms of expression and communication. for example, a question is identified by some vocal expression accepted as interrogation. in writing, the question is denoted by a particular sign, depending on the particular language. but other clues, no less important, are more deeply seated. they refer to such things as intention, who is talking-man, woman, child, policeman, priest-the context of the talk, hierarchies-social, sexual, moral-and many other clues. much extra-language background knowledge goes into human language and directs understanding from experience to language use. dialogue is more than two persons throwing sentences at each other. it is a pragmatic situation requiring as much language as understanding of the context of the conversation because each partner in the dialogue constitutes himself or herself for the other. dialogue is the elementary cell of communication experience. within dialogue, language is transcended by the many other sign systems through which human self-constitution takes place. dialogues make it clear that understanding language becomes a supra- (or para-) linguistic endeavor. it requires the discovery of the clues, in and outside language, and of their relationship. but more importantly, it requires the reconstruction of experience as it is embodied in background knowledge. by contrasting primitive orality to incipient writing, we can understand that the process of establishing conventions is motivated by the need to overrule concreteness and to access a new cognitive realm that a different pragmatic context necessitates. by understanding how experience affects their relation, we can consider orality and writing in successive moments of human pragmatics, i.e., within a concrete scale of humankind. indeed, when writing emerged, elements of orality corresponding to a reduced scale of experience were reproduced in its structure because they were continued at the cognitive level. in our days, there is a far less pressing need to mimic orality in written signs. some will argue that sale, -runner, while-u-wait, and toys 'r' us, among other such expressions, are examples to the contrary. these attempts to compress language represent ways of establishing visual icons, of achieving a synthetic level better adapted to fast exchange of information. we see many more examples in interactive multimedia, or in the heavy traffic of internet-based communication. there is no literacy involved here, and no literacy is expected in decoding the message. there is a strong new orality, with characteristics reminiscent of previous orality. but the dominant element is the visual as it becomes a new icon. the international depiction of a valentine-shaped heart to represent the word love is one example in this sense; the icons used in europe on clothing care labels are others. time reference in texts today is made difficult by the nature of processes characteristic of our age: numerous simultaneous transactions, distributed activity, interconnection, rapid change of rules. these cannot be appropriately expressed in a written text. in the global world, now means quite a different thing for individuals connected over many time zones. sunrise experienced on the web page of the city of santa monica can be immediately associated to poetic text through a link. but the implicit experience of time (and space) carried by language and made instrumental in literacy does not automatically refresh itself. it took thousands of years before humans became acquainted with the conventions of writing. it is possible that some of these conventions were assimilated in the hardware (brain) supporting cognitive activity and progressively projected in new forms of self-constitution. the practice of writing and the awareness of the avenues it opened led to new conventions. practical endeavors, originating in the conventions of space and time, implicit in the written (and the subsequent reading), resulted in changed conventions. for instance, the discovery that time and space could be fragmented, a major realization probably not possible in the culture of orality, resulted in new practical experiences and new theories of space and time. once writing became a practical experience and constituted a legitimate reality, at a level of generality characteristic of its difference from gestures, sounds, uttered words or sentences, associations became possible at several levels of the text. some were so unexpected or unusual that understanding such associations turned into a real challenge for the reader. this challenge regarding understanding is obviously characteristic of new levels, such as the self-referential, omnipresent in the wired world of home pages. in some ways, language is becoming a medium for witnessing the relation between the conscious, unconscious, or subconscious, and language itself. the brain surgery mentioned some pages ago suppressed the patient's conscious recognition of objects or actions by inhibiting certain neurons. the unnatural, nonlinguistic use of language is studied by psychologists, cognitive scientists, and artificial intelligence researchers in order to understand the relation between language and intelligence. this need to touch upon the biological aspects of the practical experiences of speaking, writing, or reading results from the premise pursued. self-constitution of the human being takes place while the biological endowment is projected into the experience. important work on what are called split- brain patients-persons who, in order to suppress epileptic attack, have had the connection between the two brain hemispheres severed-shows that even the neat distinction left-right (the left part of the brain is in charge of language) is problematic. researchers learned that in each practical experience, our biological endowment is at work and at the same time subject to self-reflection. projecting a word like laugh in the right field of vision results in the patients' laughing, although in principle they could not have processed the word. when asked, such patients explain their laughter through unrelated causes. if a text says "scratch yourself," they actually scratch themselves, stating that it is because something itches. virtual reality practical experiences take full advantage of these and other clinical observations. the absent in a virtual reality environment is very often as important as the present. on the back channels of virtual reality interactions, not only words but also data describing human reactions (turning one's head, closing the eyes, gesturing with the hand) can be transmitted. once fed back, such data becomes part of the virtual world, adapted to the condition of the person experiencing it. this is why interest in cognitive characteristics of oral communication-of the primitive stages or of the present-remains important. background information is more readily available in oral communication. in orality, things people refer to are closer to the words they use. human co-presence in conversation results in the possibility to read and translate the word under the guise of a willingness by others to show what a particular word stands for. in orality, the experience pertinent to the word is shared in its entirety. this is possible because the appropriate world of experience (corresponding to the circular scale of human praxis) is so limited that the language is in a one-to-one relation with what it describes. in some ways, the parent-child relation is representative of this stage in the childhood of humankind. in the new orality of the civilization of illiteracy the same one-to-one relation is established through strategies of segmentation. the speaker and listener(s) share space and time-and hence past, present, and, to a certain degree, future. and even if the subject is not related to that particular space and moment, it already sets a reference mechanism in place by virtue of the fact that people in dialogue are people sharing a similar experience of self-constitution. far is far from where they speak; a long time ago is a long time ago from the moment of the verbal exchange. the acquisition of far, long (or short) time ago is in itself the result of practical circumstances leading to a more evolved being. we now take these distinctions for granted, surprised when children ask for tighter qualifiers, or when computer programs fail because we input information with insufficient levels of distinction. the realization of the frame of time and space occurred quite late in the development of the species, within the scale of linear relationships, and only as a result of repeated practical experiences, of sequences constituting patterns. once the reference mechanism for both time and space was acknowledged and integrated in new experiences, it became so powerful that it allowed people to simplify their language and to assume much more than what was actually said. in today's world, space and time are constituted in experiences affected by the experience of relativity. accordingly, the orality of the civilization of illiteracy is not a return to primitive orality, but to a referential structure that helps us better cope with dynamism. the space and time of virtual experiences are an example of effective freedom from language, but not from the experiences through which we acquired our understanding of time and space. computers able to perform in the space of human assumptions are not yet on the horizon of current technological possibilities. assumptions assumptions are a component of the functioning of sign systems. a mark left can make sense if it is noticed. the assumption of perception is the minimum at which expression is acknowledged. assumptions of writing are different from those of orality. they entail the structural characteristics of the practical experiences in which the people writing constitute their identity. literate assumptions, unlike any other assumptions in language, are extensions of linear, sequential experience in all its constitutive parts. they are evinced in vocabulary, but even more strongly in grammar. in many ways, the final test of any sign system is that of its built-in assumptions. illiteracy is an experience outside the realm defined by the means and methods of literacy. the civilization of illiteracy challenges the need and justification of literate assumptions, especially in view of the way these affect human effectiveness. the very fine qualifiers of time and space that we take for granted today were acknowledged only slowly, and initially at a rather coarse level of distinction. despite the tremendous progress made, even today our experience with time and space requires some of the repertory of the primitive human. movements of hands, head, other body parts (body language), changes in facial expression and skin color (e.g., blushing), breathing rhythm, and voice variations (e.g., intonation, pause, lilt)-all account for the resurrection in dialogue of an experience much richer than language alone can convey. such para-linguistic elements are no less meaningful in new practical experiences, such as interaction with and inside virtual environments. para-linguistic elements consciously used in primitive communities, or unconsciously present, still escape our scrutiny. their presence in communication among members of communities sharing a certain genetic endowment takes different forms. they are not reducible to language, although they are connected to its experience. examples of this are the strong sense of rhythm among blacks in america and africa, the sense of holistic perception among chinese and japanese. we can only conjecture, from words reconstituted in the main language strand (proto-languages), or in the mother tongue of humankind (proto-world), that words were used in conjunction with non-linguistic entities. whether a mother-tongue or a pre-babel language existed is a different issue. the hypothesis mimics the notion of a common ancestor of the species and obviously looks for the language of this possible ancestor. more important, however, is the observation that the practical experience of language constitution does not eliminate everything that is not linguistic in nature. moreover, the para-linguistic, even when language becomes as dominant as it does under the reign of literacy, remains significant for the effectiveness of human activity. the civilization of illiteracy does not necessarily dig for para-linguistic remnants of previous practical endeavors. it rather constitutes a framework for their participation in a more effective pragmatics, in the process involving technological means capable of processing all kinds of cues. in a given frame of time and space, para-linguistic signs acquire a strong conventional nature. the way the word for i evolved (quite differently than equivalents in different languages of the world: ich, je, yo, eu, én, ani, etc.), and the way words relating to two evolved (hands, legs, eyes, ears, parents), and so forth, gives useful leads. it seems, for instance, that the pair entered language as a modifier (i.e., a grammatical category), marked by non-linguistic signs (clasp, repetition, pointing). some of the signs are still in use. the grammatical category and the distinction between one and two are related. the aranda population (in australia) combine the words for one and two in order to handle their arithmetic. also, the distinction singular- plural begins with two. we take this for granted, but in some languages (e.g., japanese), there is no distinction between singular and plural. in addition, it should be pointed out here that the same signs (e.g., use of a finger to point, hand signals) can be understood in different ways in different cultures. bulgarians shake their head up and down to signal no, and side to side to signal yes. within a given culture, each sign eventually becomes a very strong background component because it embodies the shared experience through which it was constituted. in direct speech, we either know each other, or shall know each other to a certain extent, represented by the cumulative degrees of "i know that you know that i know that you know," defining a vague notion of knowledge within a multivalued logic. this makes speaking and listening an experience in reciprocal understanding, if indeed the conversation takes place in a non-linear, vague context impossible to emulate in writing. dialogues in the wired world, as well as in transactional situations of extreme speed (stock market transactions, space research, military actions), belong to such experiences, impossible to pursue within the limitations of literacy. orality can be assertive (declarative), interrogative, and imperative (a great deal more so than writing). in the course of time, and due to very extended experience with language and its assumptions in oral form, humans acquired an intrinsic interactive quality. this resulted from a change in their condition: on the natural level there was the limited interactivity of action-reaction. in the human realm, the nucleus action-reaction led to subsequent sequences through which areas of common interest were defined. the progressive cognitive realization that speaking to someone involves their understanding of what we say, as well as the acknowledged responsibility to explain, whenever this understanding is incomplete or partial, is also a source of our interactive bent. questions take over part of the role played by the more direct para-linguistic signs and add to the interactive quality of dialogue, so long as there is a common ground. this common ground is assumed by everyone who maintains the idea of literacy-how else to establish it?-as a necessity, but understood in many different ways: the common ground as embodied in vocabulary and grammar, in logic, spelling, phonetics, cultural heritage. granted that a common language is a necessary condition for communication, such a common language is not simultaneously a sufficient condition, or at least not one of most efficient, for communication. interactivity, as it evolved beyond the literate model, is based on the probability, and indeed necessity, to transcend the common language expectation and replace it with variable common codes, such as those we establish in the experience of multimedia or in networked interactions. even the ability to interact with our own representation as an avatar in the internet world becomes plausible beyond the constraining borders of literate identity. taking literacy for granted in preceding paragraphs, we examined what is required, in addition to a common language, for a conversation to make sense. scale is another factor. the scale that defines a dialogue is very different from the scale at which human self-constitution, language acquisition and use included, take place. scale by itself is not enough to define either dialogue or the more encompassing language-oriented, or language- based, practical activity through which people ascertain their biological endowment and their human characteristics. there is sufficient proof that at the early stage of humankind, individuals could be involved only in homogeneous tasks. within such a framework of quasi-homogeneous activity, dialogues were instances of cooperation and confirmation, or of conflict. diversification made them progressively gain a heuristic dimension-choosing the useful from among many possibilities, sometimes against the logical odds of maintaining consistency or achieving completeness. a generalized language-supported practical activity involved not only heuristics ("if it seems useful, do it"), but also logic ("if it is right/if it makes sense"), through the intermediary of which truth and falsehood take occupancy of language experiences. thus an integrative influence is exercised. this influence increases when orality is progressively superseded by the limited literacy of writing and reading. the quasi-generalized literacy of industrial society reflected the need for unified and centralized frameworks of practical experience, within a scale optimally served by the linearity of language. in our days, people constitute themselves and their language through experiences more diverse than ever. these experiences are shorter and relatively partial. they are only an instant in the more encompassing process they make possible. the result is social fragmentation, even within the assumed boundaries of a common language, which nations are supposed to be, and paradoxically survive their own predicted end. in reality, this common language ceases to exist, or at least to function as it used to. what exists are provisional commitments making up a framework for activities impossible to carry out as a practical experience defined by literacy. within each of these fast-changing commitments, partial languages, of limited duration and scope, come into existence. sub-literacies accompany their lives. experience as such opens avenues to more orality, under post-literate conditions-in particular, conditions of increased efficiency made possible by technology that negates the pragmatics of literacy. the most favorable case for the functioning of language-direct verbal communication-becomes a test case for what it really means to speak the same language, and not what we assume a common language accomplishes when written or read by everyone. instances of direct verbal communication today (in the family and community, when visiting foreign countries, at work, shopping, at church, at a football stadium, answering opinion polls or marketing inquiries, in social life) are also instances of taking for granted that others speak our own language. many researchers have attempted to evaluate the effectiveness of communication in these contexts. their observations are nevertheless not independent of the assumed premise of literacy as a necessity and as a shared pragmatic framework. some recent research on the cognitive dimension of understanding language does not realize how deep the understanding goes. one example given is the terse instruction on a bottle of shampoo: "lather. rinse. repeat." it is not a matter of an individual's ability to read the instructions in order to know how to proceed. one does not need to be literate, moreover, one does not even need to create language in order to use shampoo, if one is familiar with the purpose and use of shampoo (i.e., with the act). indeed, for most individuals, the word shampoo on a bottle suffices for them to use it correctly with no written instructions at all. icons or hieroglyphics can convey the instructions just as well, even better, than literacy can. these, by the way, are coming more into use in our global economy. it is even doubtful that most individuals read the instructions because they are familiar not just with the conventions that go into using shampoo, but, deeper still, the conventions behind the words of the instructions. should an adult, even a literate adult, who was totally unfamiliar with the concept of washing his or her hair be presented with a bottle of shampoo, the entire experience of washing the hair with shampoo would have to be demonstrated and inculcated until it became part of that adult's self-constitutive repertory. such analyses of language only scrape the surface of how humans constitute themselves in language. literacy forces certain assumptions upon us: literate parents educate literate children. a sense of community requires that its members share in the functionality of literacy. literate people communicate better beyond the borders of their respective languages. literacy maintains religious faith. people can participate in social life only if they are literate. considering such assumptions, we should realize that the abstract concept of literacy, resulting from the assumption that a common language automatically means a common experience, only maintains false hope. children of literate parents are not necessarily literate. chances are that they are already integrated in the illiterate structures of work and life to the same degree children of illiterate parents are. this is not a matter of individual choice, or of parental authority. on the digital highway, on which a growing number of people define their coordinates, with the prevalent sign @ taking over any other identification, communities emerge independent of location. participation in such communities is different in nature from literate congregations maintained by a set of reciprocal dependencies that involved spelling as much as it involved accepting authority or working according to industrial production cycles. in all of today's communication, not only is the literate component no longer dominant, it is undergoing the steepest percentile fall in comparison to any other form of communication. in this framework, states and bureaucracies are putting up a good fight for their own survival. but the methods and means of literacy on which their entire activity-regulation, control, self-preservation-is based have many times over proven inefficient. these statements do not remove the need to deal with how people understand writing, to which literacy is more closely connected than it is to speech. to discover what makes the task of understanding language more difficult as language frees itself from the constraints of literacy within the new pragmatic framework is yet another goal we pursue. to understand understanding incipient writing was pictorial. this was an advantage in that it regarded the world directly, immediately perceived and shared, and a disadvantage in that it did not support more than a potential generality of expression. it maintained notation very close to things, not to speech. image-dominated language came along with a simplified frame of space and time reference. things were presented as close or far apart, as successive events or as distant, interrupted events. anyone with a minimal visual culture can read chinese or japanese ideograms, i.e., see mountain, sky, or bird in the writing. but this is not reading the language; it is reading the natural world from which the notation was extracted, reconstituting the reference based on the iconic convention. alphabetic writing annihilates this frame of experience based on resemblance. unless time is specifically given, or coordinates in space intentionally expressed, time and space tend to be assimilated in the text, and more deeply in the grammar. it is a different communication, mediated by abstract entities whose relation to experience is, in turn, the result of numerous substitutions, the record of which is not at the disposal of the reader. between tell in english and the root tal (or dal) in proto-language (with the literal meaning of tongue), there is a whole experiential sequence available only implicitly in the language. in the nostratic phylum (root of many languages, the indo- european among them), luba stands for thirst; the english love and the german liebe seem to derive from it, although when we think of love we do not associate it with the physical experience of thirst. clues in written language are clues to language first of all, and only afterwards clues to human experience. accordingly, reading a text requires an elaborate cognitive reconstruction of the experience expressed, and probably a never-ending questioning of the appropriateness of its understanding. when a text is read, there is nobody to be questioned, nobody to actively understand the understanding, to challenge it. the author exists in the text, as a projection, to the extent that the author exists in the manufactured objects we buy in order to use (glasses to drink water, chairs to sit on), or in whose production we participate in some way. after all, each text is a reality on paper, or on other means of storage and display. clues can be derived from names of writers and from historic knowledge. what cannot be derived is the reciprocal exchange which goes on during conversation, the cooperative effort under circumstances of co- presence. regardless of the degree of complexity, the interactive component of orality cannot be maintained in writing. this points to an intrinsic limitation relevant to our attempt to find out why literacy does not satisfy expectations characteristic of practical experiences requiring interactivity. the metaphoric use of interactivity, as it is practiced to express an animistic attitude according to which, for instance, the text is alive, and we interact with it in reading, interpreting, and understanding it, addresses a different issue. difficulties in language understanding can be overcome, but not in the mechanical effort of improving language skills by learning more words or studying a chapter in grammar. rather, one has to build background knowledge through extending the experience (practical, emotional, theoretical, etc.) on which the knowledge to be shared relies. but once we proceed in this direction, we step out from the unifying framework of literacy, within which the diversity of experiences is reduced to the experience of writing, reading, and speaking. when this reduction is no longer possible-as we experience more and more under the new conditions of existence-understanding language becomes more and more difficult. at the same time, the result of understanding becomes less and less significant for our self-constitution in human experiences. if no other example comes to mind, the reader should reflect upon the many volumes that accompany the software you've bought in recent years. their language is kept simple, but they are still difficult to comprehend. once comprehended, the pay-off is slim. this is why the illiterate strategy of integrating on-line the instructions one needs to work with software is replacing literate documentation. these instructions can be reduced to graphic representations or simple animations. the framework is specialization, for instance, in providing instructions in a form adequate to the task. within specialized experience, even writing and reading are subject to specialization. literacy turns into yet another distinct form of human praxis instead of remaining its common denominator. writing, in this context, makes it clear that language is not enough for understanding a text. under our own scrutiny, writing becomes a form of praxis in itself, contributing to the general fragmentation of society, not to its unification. this happens insofar as specialized writing becomes part of the general trend towards specialization and generates specialized reading. some explanation is necessary. even when writers strive to adapt their language to a specific readership, the result is only partially successful, precisely because the experiences constituted in writing are disjoint. indeed, the practical experience to be shared, and the subsequent practical experience of writing are different, pertinent to domains not reducible to each other. sometimes the writer falls captive to the language (that very specialized subset of language adapted to a specific field of knowledge) and mimics natural discourse by observing grammar and rhetoric devices. other times, the writer translates, or explains, as in popular magazines on physics, genetics, arts, psychology. within this type of interpretive discourse either details are left out, or more details are added, with the intention of broadening the common base. expressive devices, from simple comparisons (which should bridge different backgrounds) to metaphors, expose readers to a new level of experiences. even if readers know what comparisons are and how metaphors work, they still cannot compensate for the unshared part of experience, with whose help a text makes sense. a legal brief, a military text, an investment analysis, the evaluation of a computer program are examples in this sense. the language they are written in looks like english. but they refer to experiences that a lawyer, or military officer, or broker, or computer programmer is likely to be familiar with. writers, speakers, readers, and listeners are aware of the adjustments required to comprehend these and many other types of documents. while a direct conversation, for which time spent with others is required, can be a frame for adjustment, a printed page is definitely less so. the reader can, at best, transmit a reaction in writing, or write to request supplementary explanation, that is, to maintain the spirit of conversation. the experience of writing and reading is becoming less a general experience or cultural identifier, and more a specialized activity. writing can be read by machines. in order to serve the blind, such machines read instructions, newspaper articles, and captions accompanying video images. the synthetic voice, as much as a synthetic eye or nose, a syntactic touch-sensitive device, or taste translator, operates in a realm devoid of the life that went into the text (image, odor, texture, taste) and which was supposed to be contributed by the reader (viewer, smeller, toucher, taster). literacy, projected as a universal and permanent medium for expression, communication, and signification, nourished a certain romanticism or democracy of art, politics, and science. it embodied an axiomatic system: since everybody should speak, write, and read, everybody can and should speak, write, and read; everybody can and should appreciate poetry, participate in political life, understand science. this was indeed relatively true when poetry, politics, and science were, to a certain degree, direct forms of human praxis with levels of efficiency appropriate to the scale of human activity constituted in linear, homogeneous practical experiences. now that the scale changed, dynamics accelerated, mediation increased, and non-linearity is accepted, we face a new situation. paradoxically, the poet, the speech-writer, and the science-writer not only fail to address everybody, but they, as part and result of the mechanism of labor division, also contribute to the generation of partially literate human beings. in other words, they contribute to the fragmentation of society, although they are all devoted (some passionately) to the cause of its unity. in reaction to claims that literacy carried through time, a general deconstructionist attitude challenges the permanency of philosophical tractate, of scientific systems, of mathematics, political discourse and, probably more than anything else, of literature. the method applied is coherent: make evident the mechanisms used to create the illusion of permanence and truth. texts thus appear as means to an end that does not directly count. what results is an account of the technology of expression, embraced by all who grew skeptical of the universality of science, politics and literature. when each sign (independent of the subject) becomes its own reference, and the experience it embodies is, strictly speaking, that of its making, the deconstructionist project reaches the climax. nike's advertisement is not about sneakers, even less about the celebrities who wear them. it is a rather hermetic self-referential experience. its understanding, however, is based on the fast-changing experience of revealing one's illiterate identity. words about images the written, as we know, almost constantly appeared together with other referential systems, especially images. in this respect, a question regarding what we understand when we understand language is whether images can be used as an aid to understanding texts. doubtless, pictures (at least some of them) are, by their cognitive attributes, better bearers of interpretation clues than are some words or writing devices. images, more so than texts, can stand in for the absent writer. to the extent that they follow conventions of reality, pictures can help the individual reconstitute, at least partially, the frame of time and space, or one of the two. however, this represents only one side of the issue. the other side reveals that images are not always the best conveyors of information, and that what we gain by using them comes at a cost in understanding, clarity, or context dependence. first of all, what is gained through the abstraction of the words is almost entirely lost through the concreteness of the image. the very dense medium of writing stands in sharp contrast to the diluted medium of images. to download text on the network is quite different from displaying images. if this were the only reason, we would be alert to the differences between images and texts. when the complexity of the image reaches high levels, decoding the image becomes as tedious as decoding texts, and the result less precise. all this explains why people try to use a combination of images and words. it also helps in understanding strategies for their combination. as a strategy of relating text and image, redundancy helps in focusing interpretation. the strategy of complementing helps in broadening the interpretation. other strategies, ranging from contrasting texts and images to paraphrasing texts through images, or substituting texts for images, or images for text, result in forceful ways of influencing interpretation by introducing explanatory contexts. a very large portion of today's culture-from the comic strip to picture novels and advertisements, to soap operas on the internet-is embodied in works using such and similar strategies. what interests us here is whether images can replace the experience required to understand a text. if the answer is affirmative, such images would be almost like the partner in conversation. as products of human experience, images, just like language, embody that particular experience. this automatically makes the problem of understanding images more involved than just seeing them. but we knew this from written language. seeing words or sentences or texts on paper (in script or in print) is only preliminary to understanding. the naturalness of images (especially those resembling the physical universe of our existence) makes access to them sometimes easier than access to written language. but this access is never automatic, and should never be taken for granted. in addition, while the written word does not invite to imitation, images play a more active role, triggering reactions different from those triggered by words. the code of language and visual codes are not reducible to each other; neither is their pragmatic function the same. research reports are quasi-unanimous in emphasizing that the usefulness of pictures in increasing text comprehension seems not to depend on the mere presence of the image, but on the specific characteristics of the reader. these make clear the role played by what was defined as background knowledge, without which texts, images, and other forms of expression stabilized as languages make little sense, if any, to their readers, viewers, or listeners. in order to arrive at such conclusions, researchers went through real-time measurements of the so-called processing of texts, in comparison to picture-text processing. the paradigm employed uses eye movement recordings and comprehension measures to study picture-text interactions. pictures helped what the researchers defined as poor readers. for skilled readers, pictures were neutral when the information was important. the presence of pictures interfered with reading when the information in the text was less important. researchers also established that the type of text-expository or narrative-is not a factor and that pictures can help in recall of text details. this has been known for at least years, if not longer. actors in shakespeare's time were prompted to recall their lines through visual cues embodied in the architecture of the theater. after all was measured and analyzed, the only dependable conclusion was that the effects of images on comprehension of written language are not easy to explain. again, this should not come as a surprise as long as we use literacy-based quantifiers to understand the limits of literacy. whether images are accidental or forced upon the reader, whether the text is quasi-linear or very sophisticated (i.e., results from practical experiences of high complexity), the relation does not seem to follow any pattern. such experiments, along with many others based on a literacy premise, proved unsuitable for discovering the sources and nature of reading difficulties. eye movement and comprehension measures used to study picture-text interactions only confirmed that today there are fewer commonalties, even among young students (not to mention among adults already absorbed in life and work) than at the time of the emergence of writing and reading. the diversification of forms of human experience, seen against the background of a relatively stable language adopted as a standard of culture, hints at the need to look at this relation as one of the possible explanations for the data, even for the questions that prompted the experiments in the first place. these questions have bearing on the general issue of literacy. why reading, comprehension, and recall of written language have become more uncertain in recent years, despite efforts made by schools, parents, employers, and governments to improve instruction, remains unanswered. regardless of how much we are willing to help the understanding of a text through the use of images, the necessity of the text, as an expression of a literate practical experience, is not enhanced. conclusions like these are not easy to draw because we are still conditioned by literacy. experiences outside the frame of literacy come much more naturally together because their necessity is beyond the conditioning of our rational discourse. this is how i can explain why on the internet, the tenor of social and political dialogue is infinitely more free of prejudice than the information provided through books, newspapers, or tv. these observations should not be misconstrued as yet another form of technological determinism. the emphasis here, as elsewhere in the book, is on new pragmatic circumstances themselves, not on the means involved. the research reported above, as any research we hear about in our days, was carried out on a sample. a sample, as representative as it can be, is after all a scaled- down model of society. the issue critical to literacy being the scale of human practical existence, scaled-down models are simply not suited for our attempt to understand language changes when the complexity of our pragmatic self-constitution increases. we need to consider language, images, sounds, textures, odors, taste, motion, not to mention sub-verbal levels, where survival strategies are encoded, and beliefs and emotions are internalized, as they pertain to the pragmatic context of our existence. literacy is not adequate for satisfactorily encoding the complexity and dynamics of practical experiences corresponding to the new scale that humankind has reached. the corresponding expectations of efficiency are also beyond the potential of literacy-based productivity. ill-suited to address the mediated nature of human experience at this scale, literacy has to be integrated with other literacies. its privileged status in our civilization can no longer be maintained. korzybski was probably right in stating that language is a "map for charting what is happening both inside and outside of our skins." at the new stage that civilization has reached, it turns out that none of the maps previously drawn is accurate. if we really want details essential to the current and future development of our species, we have to recognize the change in metrics, i.e., in the scale of the charted entity, as well as in dynamics. the world is changing because we change, and as a result we introduce new dimensions in this world. even when we notice similarities to some past moment-let us take orality as an example-they are only apparent and meaningless if not put in proper context. technology made talking to each other at long distances (tele-communication) quite easy, because we found ways to overcome the constraints resulting from the limited speed of sound. the most people could do when living on two close hills was to visit, or to yell, or to signal with fire or lights. now we can talk to somebody flying on an airplane, to people driving or walking, or climbing mount everest. cellular telephony places us on the map of the world as precisely as the global positioning system (gps) deployed on satellites. the telephone, in its generalized reality as a medium for orality, defies co- presence and can be accessed virtually from anywhere. telephony as a practical experience in modern communication revived orality under circumstances of highly integrated, parallel, and distributed forms of human activity on a global scale. on the digital networks that increasingly represent the medium of self-constitution, we are goal and destination at the same time. in one click we are wherever we want to be, and to a great extent what we want to be or are able to do. with another click, we are only the instantiation of someone else's interest, acts, knowledge, or questioning. the use of images belongs to the same broad framework. so does television, omnipresent and, at times, seemingly omnipotent. we became connected to the world, but disconnected from ourselves. as bandwidth available for interacting through a variety of backchannels expands from copper wire to new fiberglass data highways, a structure is put in place that effectively resets our coordinates in the world of global activity. defying the laws of physics, we can be in more than one place at the same time. and we can be more than one person at the same time. understanding language under such circumstances becomes a totally new experience of self-constitution. still, understanding language is understanding those who express themselves through language, regardless of the medium or the carrier. literacy brought to culture the means for effectively understanding language in a civilization whose scale was well adapted to the linear nature of writing and reading, and to the logic of truth embodied in language. however, literacy lacks heuristic dimensions, is slow, and of limited interactivity. it rationalizes even the irrational, taking into bureaucratic custody all there is to our life. common experience, in a limited framework characteristic of the beginning of language notation, is bound to facilitate interpretation and support conflicting choices. divergent experiences, many driven by the search for the useful, the efficient, the mediating, experiences having less in common among themselves, make language less adapted to our self-constitution, and thus less easy to understand. in such a context, literacy can be perceived only as a phenomenon that makes all things it encomapsses uniform; therefore literacy is resisted. far from being only a matter of skill, literacy is an issue of shared knowledge formed in work and social life. changes in the pragmatic framework brought about the realization that literacy today might be better suited to bridging various fragmented bodies of knowledge or experiences, than to actually embodying them. literacy might still affect the manner in which we use specialized languages as tools adapted to the various ways we see the world, the manner in which we try to change it and report on what happens as a result. but even under these charitable assumptions, it does not follow that literacy will, or should, continue to remain the panacea for all human expression, communication, and signification. the functioning of language to function is a verb derived from experiences involving machines. we expect from machines uniform performance within a defined domain. in adopting the metaphor of functioning to refer to language, we should be aware that it entails understandings originating from human interaction involving sign systems, in particular those eventually embodied in literacy. the argument we want to pursue is straightforward: identify language functions as they are defined through various pragmatic contexts; compare processes through which these functions are accomplished; and describe pragmatic circumstances in which a certain functioning mechanism no longer supports practical experiences at the efficiency level required by the scale of the pragmatic framework. expression, communication, signification traditionally, language functions either are associated with the workings of the brain or defined in the realm of human interaction. in the first case, comprehension, speech production, the ability to read, spell, write, and similar are investigated. through non-invasive methods, neuropsychologists attempt to establish how memory and language functions relate to the brain. in the second case, the focus is on social and communicative functions, with an increasing interest in underlying aspects (often computationally modeled). my approach is different in that it bases language functions in the practical experience, i.e., pragmatics, of the species. language functions are, in the final analysis, sign processes. preceding language, signs functioned based on their ontogenetic condition. as marks left behind-footprints, blood from an open wound, teethmarks-signs facilitated associations only to the extent that individuals directly experienced their coming into being. cognitive awareness of such marks led to associations of patterns, such as action and reaction, cause and effect. biting that leaves behind teethmarks is an example. pointers to objects-broken branches along a path, obsidian flakes where stones had been processed, ashes where a fire had burned-and, even more so, symptoms-strength or weakness-are less immediate, but still free of intentionality. imitation brought the unintentional phase of sign experience to an end. in imitative signs, which are supposed to resemble whatever they stand for, the mark is not left, but produced with the express desire to share. the function best describing signs that are marks of the originator is expression. communication is the function of bringing individuals together through shared experiences. signification corresponds to an experience that has signs as its object and relies on the symbolic level. it is the function of endowing signs with the memory of their constitution in practical experiences. signification expresses the self-reflective dimension of signs. expression and communication, moreover signification, vary dramatically from one pragmatic framework to another. expressions, as simili of individual characteristics and personal experience, can be seen as translations of these characteristics and of the experience through which they come into being. a very large footprint is a mark associated with a large foot, human or animal. it is important insofar as it defines, within a limited scale of experience, a possible outcome essential to the survival of those involved. expressions in speech are marked by co-presence. the functioning of language within orality rested upon a shared experience of time and space, expressed through here and now. in writing, expression hides itself in the physical characteristics of the skill. this is how we come, for example, to graphology-an exercise in associating patterns of the marks somebody wrote on paper to psychological characteristics. literacy is not concerned with this kind of expression, although literacy is conducive to it and eventually serves as a medium for graphology. rather, literacy stipulates norms and expectations of correct writing. people adopting them know well that within the pragmatics based on literacy, the efficiency of practical experiences of self-constitution is enhanced by uniform performance. as we search in our days for the fingerprints of terrorists, we experience the function of expression in almost the reverse of previous pragmatic contexts. their marks-identifiers of parts used to trigger explosions, or of manufacturers of explosives-are accidental. terrorists would prefer to leave none. the analysis can be repeated for communication and signification. what they have in common is the progressive scale: expression for kin, expression for larger groups, collective expression, forceful expression as the scale of activity increases and individuals are gradually being negated in their characteristics. communication makes the process even more evident. to bring together members of a family is different from achieving the togetherness of a tribe, community, city, province, nation, continent, or globe. but as available resources do not necessarily keep up with increased populations, and even less with the growth in need and expectations, it is critical to integrate cognitive resources in experiences of self-constitution. communication, as a function performed through sign systems, reached through the means of literacy higher levels than during any previous pragmatic phase. another increase in scale will bring even higher expectations of efficiency and, implicitly, the need for means to meet such expectations. only as practical experiences become more complex and integrate additional cognitive resources do changes-such as from pre-verbal to verbal sign systems, from orality to writing, and from writing to literacy, or from literacy to post- literacy-take place. in other words, once the functioning of language no longer adequately supports human pragmatics in terms of achieving the efficiency that corresponds to the actual scale of that pragmatics, new forms of expression, communication, and signification become necessary. these remarks concern our subject, i.e., the transitional nature of any sign system, and in particular that of orality or that of literacy, in two ways: . they make us aware of fundamental functions (expression, communication, signification) and their dependence on pragmatic contexts. . they point to conditions under which new means and methods pertinent to effective functioning complement or override those of transcended pragmatic contexts. as we have seen, prior to language experiences, people constituted their identity in a phase of circular and self-referential reflection. this was followed by a pragmatics leading to sequential, linear practice of language and language notation. with writing, and especially with literacy, sequentiality, linearity, hierarchy, and centralism became characteristics of the entire practical experience. writing was stamped by these characteristics at its inception, as were other practical activities. with its unfolding in literacy, it actively shaped further practical experiences. the potential of experiences sharing in these characteristics was reached in productive activities, in social life, in politics, in the arts, in commerce, in education and in leisure. the advent of higher-level languages and of means for visualization, expanding into animation, modeling, and simulation in our day, entails new changes. their meaning, however, will forever escape us if we are not prepared to see what makes them necessary. ultimately, this means to return to human beings and their dynamic unfolding within a broader genetic script. to make sense of any explanatory models advanced, here or elsewhere, we need to understand the relation between cultural structure-in which sign systems, literacy, and post-literate means are identified-and social structure, which comprises the interaction of the individuals constituting society. the premise of this enterprise is as follows: since not even the originators of the behaviorist model believed that we are the source of our behavior (skinner went on record with this in an interview shortly before his death), we can look at the individuals constituting a human community as the locus of human interactions. language is only one agent of integration among many. the shift from the natural to the cultural-with its climax in literacy-was actually from immediacy, circularity, discreteness, and the physical realm to indirectness, sequentiality, linearity, and metaphysics. what we experience in our time is a change of course, to the civilization of illiteracy, characterized by msny mediating layers, configuration, non-linearity, distribution of tasks, and meta-language. in the process, the functioning of language is as much subject to change as the human beings constituted in succeeding practical experiences of a fundamentally new nature. the idea machine functioning of language cannot be expressed in rotations per second (of a motor) or units of processed raw materials (of a processing machine). it cannot even be expressed in our new measurement of bits and bytes and all kinds of flops. expressions, opportunities for exchange of information, and evaluations are the output of language (to keep to the machine model and terminology). but more important is another output, definitive of the cognitive aspect of human self-constitution: thoughts and ideas. we encounter language as we continuously externalize our biological and cultural identities in the act of living as human beings. attempts within primitive practical experiences to capture language in some notation eventually freed language from the individual experience through sharing with the entire group practicing such notation. even in the absence of the originator of whatever the notation conveyed, as long as the experience was shared, the notation remained viable. constituted in human praxis, notation became a reality with an apparent life of its own. it affected interactions as well as a course of action, to the degree that notation could describe it. notation predates writing, addressing small-scale groups involved in relatively homogenous practical experiences. as the scale grew and endeavors required different forms of interaction, the written evolved from various co-existing notations based on constitutive experiences with their own characteristics. together with the experience of writing, an entire body of linear conventions was established. circumstances that made possible the constitution of ideas and their understanding deserve attention because they relate to a form of activity that singles out the human being from the entire realm of known creatures. ideas, no matter how complex, pertain to states of affairs in the world: physical, biological, or spatial reality embodied in an individual's self-constitution. they also pertain to the states of mind of those expressing them. ideas are symptomatic of human self-constitution, and thus of the languages people have developed in their praxis. what we want to find out is whether there is an intrinsic relation between literacy and the formation and understanding of ideas. we want to know if ideas can be constituted and/or understood in forms of expression other than verbal language, such as in drawings, or in the more current multimedia. humans not only express themselves to (enter into contact with) one another through their sign systems, but also listen to themselves, and look at themselves. they are at once originators (emitters, as the information theory model considers them) and receivers. in speech, signs succeed themselves in a series of self-controlled sequences. synthesis, as the generation of new expression by assembling what is known in new ways appropriate to new practical experiences, is continuously controlled by self-analysis. pre-verbal and sub-verbal unarticulated languages (at the signal level of smell, touch, taste, or language of kinesic or proxemic type) participate in defining sensations directly, as well as through rudimentary specification of context. the relationship of articulated language and unarticulated sub-verbal languages is demonstrated at the level of predominantly natural activities as well as at the level of predominantly socio- cultural activities. one example: under the pragmatic conditions leading to language, olfaction played a role comparable to sight and hearing, effectively controlling taste. this changed as experience mediated through language replaced direct experience. within the pragmatics of higher efficiency associated with literacy, the sense of smell, for example, ended up being done away with. the decrease of the weight of biological communication, in this case of chemo-physical nature, is paralleled by the increase of importance of the immaterial, not substance-bound, communication. granted, there are no ideas, in the true definition of the word, that can be expressed in smell. but practical experiences involving the olfactory and the gustatory, as well as other senses, affect areas of human practical experiences beyond literacy. identification of kin, awareness of reproduction cycles, and alarm can all be simulated in language, which slowly assumed or substituted some of the functions of natural languages. writing and the expression of ideas when the sign of speech became a sign of language (alphabets, words, sentences), the process described above deepened. the concrete (written, stabilized) sign participated in capturing generality via the abstraction of lines, shapes, intersections, in wax, in clay, on parchment, or on another medium. the succession of individual signs (letters, words) was metamorphosed into the sign of the general. for centuries, writing was only a container for speech, not operational language. this observation does not contradict the still controversial saphir-whorf hypothesis that language influences thinking. rather, the observation makes clearer the fact that active influence did not originate from language itself, but is a result of succeeding practical experiences. had a recorder of spoken language, let us imagine, been invented before writing, a need or use for literacy would have taken very different forms. humans did not dispose of a system of signs as a person disposes of a machine or of elements to be assembled. they were their own scripts, always re-constituting in notation an experience they had or might have had. in other words, the functioning of languages is essentially a record of the functioning of human beings. the hebrew alphabet started as shorthand notation reduced to consonants by scribes who retained only the root of the word before recording its marks on parchment. due to the small scale and shared pragmatics of readers, this shorthand sufficed. in mayan hieroglyphics, and in mesopotamian ideographs, as well as in other known forms of notation, the intention was the same: to give clues so that another person could give life to the language, could resuscitate it. increased scale and consequently less homogenous practical experiences forced the hebrew scribes to add diacritical marks indicating vowels. the written language of the sumerians and mesopotamians also changed as the pragmatic framework changed. that writing is an experience of self-constitution, reflected in the structure of ideas, might not sound convincing enough unless the biological component is at least brought up. derrick de kerkhove noticed that all languages written from right to left use only consonants. the cognitive reading mechanism involved in deciphering them differs from that of languages using vowels, too, and written from left to right. once the greeks took over the initially consonantal alphabet of the phoenicians and hebrews, they added vowels and changed the direction of writing-at the beginning using the bustrophedon (how the oxen plow), i.e., both directions. afterwards, the direction corresponding to a cognitive structure associated with sequentiality was adopted. consequently, the functioning of the greek language changed as well. ideas resulting in the context of pre-socratic and socratic dialogue have a more pronounced deductive, speculative nuance than those expressed in the analytic discourse of written greek philosophy. one can further this thought by noticing the so-called bias against the left-hand that is deeply rooted in many languages and the beliefs they express. it seems that the right (hand and direction) is favored in ways ranging from calling things right, or calling servants of justice herr richter (master right, the german form of address for a judge), or favoring things done with the right hand, on the right side, etc. the very idea of what is right, what is just, human rights, originates from this preference. the left hand is associated, in a pragmatic and cognitive mode dominated by the right, with weakness, incompetence, even sin. (in the new testament, sinners are told to go to the left side of god after judgment.) while the implicit symbolism is worth more than this passing remark, it is worthwhile noticing that in our days, the domination of the right in writing and in literacy expectations is coming to an end. the efficiency of a right-biased praxis is not high enough to satisfy expectations peculiar to globality. the process is part of the broader experience through which literacy itself is replaced by the many partial literacies defining the civilization of illiteracy. since ideas come into being in the experience of language, their dissemination and validation, critical to the efficiency of human effort at any given scale, depends on the portability of the medium in which they are expressed. through writing, the portability of language was no longer reducible to the mobility of those speaking it. ideas expressed in writing could be tested outside the context in which they originated. this associated the function of dissemination through language to the function of validation in the pragmatic context. a tablet, a papyrus scroll, a codex, a book, or a digital simile have in common their condition as a record resulting from practical experiences; but it is not what they have in common that explains their efficiency. portability is telling of pragmatic requirements so different that nothing before the digital record could be as pervasive and globally present. except for a password, we need nothing with us in order to access knowledge distributed today through networks. we are freeing ourselves from space and time coordinates. literacy cannot function within such broad parameters. the domain of alternatives constitutes the civilization of illiteracy. future and past do we need to be literate in order to deal with the future? reciprocally: is history, as many believe, the offspring of writing? moreover, is it a prerequisite for understanding the present? these are questions that resonate loudly in today's political discourse and in the beliefs of very many people. let us start with the future, as the question raises the issue of what it takes to deal with it. pre-sensing (premonition) is the natural form of diffuse perception of time. this perception can be immediate or less immediate. it is extended not from now to what was (stored in one's memory or not), but to what might be (a sign of danger in the natural environment, for instance). the indexical signs participating in these representations are footprints, feathers, bloodstains. speech makes premonition and feeling explicit, but not wholly so. it transforms accumulated signs (past) into the language of the possible (future). in fact, in the practical experience of re-constituting the past we realize that each past was once a future. still, as we want to establish some understanding of the unfolding of the present into the future, we come to realize that while possibilities expand, the future becomes less and less determined in its details. try to tell this to the champions of technology who predicted the paperless office and who now predict the networked world. alternatively, tell this to those who still constitute their identity in literacy-dependent practical experiences: politicians, bureaucrats and educators. neither of the two categories mentioned seems to understand the relation between language and the future expressed in it, or in any sign system, as plans, prophecies, or anticipations. an idea is always representative of the practical experience and of the cognitive effort to transcend immediate affection. monoarticulated speech (signaling), as well as ideographic writing, result from experiences involving the pragmatic-affective level of existence. one cries or shouts, one captures resemblance in an image when choices are made and feelings evoked. there are no ideas here, as there is very little that reaches beyond the immediate. ideas extend from experiences involving the pragmatic- rational level. speech can serve as the medium for making plans explicit. drawings, diagrams, models, and simulations can be described through what we say. indeed, before writing the future, human beings expressed it as speech, undoubtedly in conjunction with other signs: body movement, objects known to relate to danger and thus to fear, or successful actions associated with satisfaction. when finally set in clay tablets or papyrus, the language regarding the future acquired a different status-it no longer vanished, as the sounds or gestures used before. writing accompanies action, and even lasts past the experience. this permanency gave the written word an aura that sounds, gestures, even artifacts, could not achieve. even repetition, a major structural characteristic of rituals, could not project the same expectation of permanency as writing. probably this is what prompted gordon childe to remark that "the immortalization of a word in writing must have seemed a supernatural process; it was surely magical that a man long vanished from the land of the living could still speak from a clay tablet or a papyrus roll." within the context of religion, the aura shifts from the mytho-magical- transmitted clues for successful action-to the mystical-the source of the successful clues is a higher authority. even social organization, which became necessary when the scale of humankind changed, was not very effective in the absence of documents with a prescriptive function. recognized in ancient chinese society, this practical need was expressed in its first documents, as it was in hindu civilization, in the hebrew and the greek, and by the civilizations to follow, many taking an obvious cue from the roman empire. language use for prescriptive purposes does not necessitate or even imply literacy. this holds true as much for the past as for the present. there was a time, corresponding to increased mobility of people, when only those foreign to a land were supposed to learn how to write and read. the requirement was pragmatic: in order to get used to the customs by which the native population lived, they had to gain access to their expression in language. nevertheless, once promises are made-a promise relates structurally to the future-the record becomes more and more written, although quite often sealed by the oral, as we know from oath formulae and from oath gestures that survived even in our days. in all these, linear relations of cause-and-effect were preserved and projected as the measure, i.e. rationality, for the future. in contemporary society, the language characteristic of the past is used as a decorum. global scale and social complexity are no longer efficiently served by linear relations. subsequently, means for formulating ideas regarding the future make literacy not only one of the many languages of the time to come, but probably an obstacle in the attempt to more efficiently articulate ideas for the future. keep in mind that almost all people dedicated to the study of the future work on computational models. the outcome of their effort is shorter and shorter on text, which is replaced with dynamic models, always global in nature. linearity is effectively supplanted by non-linear descriptions of the many interlocking factors at work. moreover, self-configuration, parallelism, and distributive strategies are brought to expression in simulations of the future. as far as history is concerned, it is, whether we like it or not, the offspring of writing. ivan illich and barry sanders state bluntly: "the historian's house is on the island of writing.... where no words are left behind, the historian finds no foundations for his reconstructions." indeed, history results from concern with records that are universally accessible, hence within the universe of those sharing in literacy. we never know whether a grammar is a summary of the history of a language, or its program for the future. grammars appear in various contexts because people recognize the need to verify the voices within a language. histories appear also, motivated by the same stimulus, not so much to do justice to some army, general, king or party, but to maintain coherent records, make them speak in one and only one voice, and probably link the records to recreate the continuum from which they emerge. while the future and the self-constitution of the human being in new pragmatic contexts are directly related, the past is connected to human practical experiences in indirect ways. the unifying element of the various perspectives of the future is in the new experience. in the absence of such a unifying perspective, writing history becomes an end in itself, notwithstanding the power exercised by examples. from the beginning of the middle ages, the written record and the analytic power of language sufficed for constituting history and shaping historic experience. but once the methods of historic research diversified, probably as much as the pragmatics of human existence did, new perspectives were introduced. some of these have practical implications: what were the plants used in primitive societies? how was water supply handled? how were the dead disposed of? other perspectives had ideological, political, or cultural ramifications. in each of these pragmatically determined instances, history started escaping the prison of literacy. linguistic archaeology, anthropological and especially paleoanthropological history, computational history, are only some of the post-literate forms of practical experiences constituting a new domain of history. this domain is characterized by the use of non-traditional tools, such as genetics, electronic microscopy, computational simulation, artificial life modeling, and inferences supported by artificial intelligence. memetics, or the life of ideas and awareness of them, pertains no less to the past than to the present and future. it sprang from genetics and bears the mark of an implicit darwinian mechanism. its focus on ideas made it the catch phrase of a generation feeling dangerously severed from its relation to history, and no less endangered by a future falling too fast upon this generation. technological extensions of memetics (the so-called memetic engineering) testify to expectations of efficiency which history of the literate age never seemed to care about or even to acknowledge. based on the awareness thus gained, we would have to agree that the relative dissolution of literacy and the associated ideals of universality, permanency, hierarchy, and determinism, as well as the emergence of literacies, with the resulting attitudes of parochialness, transitoriness, decentralization, and indeterminacy are paralleled by the dissolution of history and the emergence of specialized histories. hypertext replaces sequential text, and thus a universe of connections is established. the new links among carefully defined fields in the historic record point to a reality that escapes the story (in history), but are relevant to the present. the specialized historian reports not so much about the past, but about particular aspects of human self-constitution from the past that are significant in the new frame of current experience. it sometimes seems that we reinvent the past in patches, only to accommodate the present pragmatics and to enforce awareness of the present. the immanent sequentiality and linearity of the pragmatic framework within which languages emerged and which made, at a later juncture, literacy and history necessary, is replaced by non-sequentiality and non-linear relations better adapted to the scale of humankind's existence today. they are also better adapted to the complexity of the practical process of humankind's continuous self-constitution. in addition, primitive, deterministic inferences are debunked, and a better image of complexity, as it pertains to the living subject, becomes available. as an entry in a database (huge by all means), the past sheds its romantic aura, only to align itself with the present and the future. the illiterate attitude, reflected, for instance, in the ignorance of the story of the past, results not from lack of writing and reading skills. it is not caused by bad history teachers or books, as some claim. decisive is the fact that our pragmatic framework, i.e. our new practical experiences of self-constitution, is disconnected from the experiences of the past. knowing and understanding probably one of the most important aspects of current pragmatics is the connection between knowing and understanding. we are involved in many activities without really understanding how they take place. our e-mail reaches us as it reaches those to whom we send messages, even though most people have no idea how. the postal system is easier to understand. we know what happens: letters are delivered to the post office, sorted, and sent to their destinations by bus, train, plane, or boat. determining the paths of an e-mail message is trivial for a machine, but almost impossible for a human being. as the complexity of an endeavor increases, chances that individuals constituting themselves in the activity know how everything works and understand the various mechanisms involved decrease. still, the efficiency of the experience is not diminished. moreover, it seems that knowledge and understanding do not necessarily affect efficiency. this statement is valid for an increasing number of practical experiences in the pragmatics of the civilization of illiteracy-not for all of them. we can conceive of complex diagnostic machines; but there is something in the practical experience of medicine, for example, that makes one physician better than another. we can automate a great deal of other activities-accounting, tax preparation, design, architecture-but there is something implicit in the activity that will qualify a certain individual's performance as above and beyond our most advanced science and technology. there are managers who know close to nothing about what their company produces but who understand market mechanisms to such an extent that they end up winners regardless of whether they head a bank, a cracker-producing factory, or a giant computer company. these managers constitute themselves within the experience of language- the language of the market more than the language of the product. therefore, it is useful to examine the evolution of knowledge and understanding within succeeding pragmatic frameworks, and the role language as a mediating element in each of these frameworks. the sign of language represents the contradictory unity of the phonetic and semantic units. within a limited scale of experience, literacy meant to know what is behind the written word, to be able to resuscitate it, and to even give the word new life. as the scale increases, literacy means to take for granted what is behind the written word. this implies that dictionaries, including personal dictionaries, as they are formed in constituting our language, are congruent. learning language is not reducible to the memorization of expressions. the only way to learn is to live the language. with knowledge acquired and expressed in language comes understanding. humans are not born free of experience. important parts of it are passed along in the biological endowment. others are transmitted through ever new human interactions, including those of reciprocal understanding. neither are humans born free of the evolutionary cycle of the species. the relative decline of the olfactory in humans was mentioned some pages ago. with the relative loss of sensory experience, knowledge corresponding to the respective sensorial perception diminishes. linguistic performance is the result of living and practicing language, of existence as language. relating oneself to the world in language experience is a condition for knowing and understanding it. the language of the natural surrounding world is not verbal, but it is articulated at the level of the elementary sensations (merleau-ponty's participative perception) that the world occasions, when human beings are engaged in the practical attempt to constitute themselves, or instance, by trying to change or to master their world. they perceive this world, after the experience, as stabilized meanings: clouds offer the hope of rain; thunder can produce fire; running deer are probably pursued by predators; eggs in a nest testify to birds. the complexity of the effort to master the world surrounding us increases over time. tasks originating in the context leading to literacy are of a different degree of complexity than those faced in industrial society and than those we assume today. between the senses and speech-hence between nonverbal and verbal languages-numerous influences play a role. words obviously have a cognitive condition different from perceptions and are processed differently. speech adds intellectual information to the sensorial information, mainly in the form of associations, capable of reflecting the present and the absent. interestingly enough, we do not know everything that we understand; and we do not understand everything that we know. for instance, we might know that in non-euclidean geometries, parallels meet. or that water, a liquid, is made up of oxygen and hydrogen, two gases. or that the use of drugs can lead to addiction. nevertheless, we do not necessarily understand how and why and when. within the civilization of literacy the expectation is that once we know how to write something, we automatically know and understand it. and if by some chance the knowledge is incomplete, inconsistent, or not maintained, if it loses its integrity through some corruption, it can be resuscitated through reading or can be made consistent by comparing it to knowledge accumulated by others, and eventually redeemed. as writing has failed us repeatedly within practical experiences that transcend its characteristics and necessity, we have learned that the relative stability of the written is a blessing in disguise. compared to the variability of the speech, it is more stable. but this stability turns out to be a shortcoming, exactly because knowledge and understanding are context dependent. within relatively stable contexts this shortcoming is noticed only at rare intervals. but with the expectation of higher efficiency, cycles of human activity get shorter. increased intensity, the variability of structures of interaction, the distributed nature of practical involvement, all require variable frames of reference for knowledge and understanding. as a result of these pragmatic characteristics, we witnessed progressive use of language in equivocal and ambiguous ways. acceptable, and even adequate, in the practical experience of poetry, drama and fiction, of disputable relevance in political and diplomatic usage, ambiguity affects the literate formulation of ideas and plans pertinent to moral values, political programs, or scientific and technological purposes. the same pragmatic characteristics mentioned above make necessary the integration of means other than language and its literate functioning in the acquisition and dissemination of knowledge. this addresses concerns raised in the opening lines of this section. fast-changing knowledge can be acquired through means adapted to its dynamics. as these means, such as interactive multimedia, virtual reality programs, and genetic computation, change, the experience of accessing knowledge becomes, in addition, one of understanding the transitory means involved in storing and presenting it. many practical experiences are based on knowledge that no other means, literacy- based means included, could effectively make available. from advanced brain surgery at neuronal levels to the deployment of vast networks, which support not only e-mail but also many other meaningful human interactions-from space exploration to memetic engineering-focused understanding and a whole new gamut of highly efficient practical experiences, involving knowledge never before available, make up the pragmatic framework of the civilization of illiteracy. univocal, equivocal, ambiguous at least artificial languages are on record. behind each of these there is a practical experience in respect to which natural language functions in a less than desirable manner. there is a language on record that addresses left-hand/right-hand biases. there is one, authored by s. h. elgin, in which gender biases are reversed (láadan). and there is inda, a language constructed like a work of art. there are exotic languages written for certain fictional worlds: j.r.r. tolkien's elvish, or the language of the klingons of star trek fame, or anthony burgess's nadsat, the language of the yobbs in a clockwork orange. and there are scientifically oriented attempts to structure a language: james cooke brown invented loglan to be a logic language. sotos ochado (almost years before brown) invented a language based on the classifications of science. some artificial languages of the past correspond to obvious pragmatic functions. ars magna, designed by ramon llul (celebrated in history books dedicated to precursors of the digital age), was to be a language of missionaries. lingua ignota, attributed to the legendary abbess hildegard, is a language of practical monastic experiences extended well beyond the performance of the liturgy. when we acknowledge these languages we implicitly acknowledge attempts to improve the performance of language functions. in some cases, the effort is driven by the goal of transcending barriers among languages; in others, of getting a better description of the world, with the implicit hope that this would facilitate mastery of it. awareness of the fact that language is not a neutral means of expression, communication, and signification, but comes loaded with all the characteristics of our practical endeavors, prejudices included, motivated attempts to generate languages reflecting an improved view of the world. regardless of the intention, and especially of the success they had, such languages allow us a closer look at their cognitive condition, and hence at their contribution to increases in the efficiency of human practical activities. increased expressive power, as in the artificial languages invented by tolkien and burgess, or in the language of the klingons, is an objective relatively easy to comprehend. propagated by means of literacy and within the literate experience, such languages are accepted primarily as artistic conventions. precision is the last quality they aim for; expressive richness is their goal. these are languages of sublime ambiguity. those seeking precision will find it in loglan, or better yet in the languages of computer programming. disseminated by means contradicting and transcending the assumptions of literacy, and within a pragmatics requiring means of higher efficiency, programming languages, from cobol and fortran to c, c++, lisp, or java, are accepted for their functionality. they are not for poetry writing, as the family of expressive artificial languages are not for driving a computer or its peripherals. these are languages of never-failing univocality. with such languages, we can control the function, and even the logic of the language. these languages are conceived in a modular fashion and can be designed to optimally serve the task at hand. among the functions pursued are provability, optimization, and precision. among the logics that can be used are classical propositonal logic, intuitionistic propositional logic, modal logic, temporal logic, and others. reflecting human obsession with a universal language, some artificial constructs advance hypotheses regarding the nature of universality. dedicated, like many before him, to the idea of a universal language, françois sondre ( ) invented a language based on the assumption that music comes the closest to transcending boundaries among various groups of people. imagine a theory expressed as a melody, communication accomplished by music, or the music of the law and law enforcement. there is in such a language enough room for expression and precision, but almost no connection to the pragmatic dimension of human self-constitution. if time is, as we know, encoded in music, the experience of space is only indirectly present. accordingly, its functioning might address the universality of harmony and rhythm, but not aspects of pragmatics which are of a different nature. a category of so-called controlled languages is also establishing itself. a controlled language is a subset (constrained in its vocabulary, grammar, and style) of a natural language adapted to a certain activity. artificial languages are products inspired and motivated by the functioning of our so-called natural language. their authors wanted to fix something, or at least improve performance of the language machine in some respect. in order to understand the meaning of their effort, we should look into how language relates the people constituted in the language to the world in which they live. let's start with the evolution of the word and its relation to the expression of thoughts and ideas, that is, from the univocal (one-to-one relation to what is expressed) to the ambiguous (one-to-many relation). systems of univocal signs participate in the production of ideas only to a small degree. as an outgrowth of signals, initial signs are univocal. feathers are definitely not from fish or mammals; blood stains are from wounds; four-legged animals leave different marks than biped humans. polysemy (more than one meaning assignable to the sign) is a gradual acquisition and reflects the principle of retroaction of meaning on the carrier: words, drawings, sounds, etc. a drawing of an animal points to what is depicted, or to things associated with the animal: the softness of fur, savage behavior, meat, etc. philosophy and literature (and the arts, in general) became possible only at a certain level of language development brought about by the practical experience of society confronted with new tasks related to its survival and further evolution. the philosopher, for example, resorts to common speech (verbal language) but uses it in an uncommon way: metasemically, metaphorically, metaphysically. ancient philosophy, important here for its testimony regarding language and literacy, is still so metaphoric that it can be read as literature, and actually was enjoyed as such. modern philosophy (post-heidegger) shows how relations (which it points out and dwells upon) have absorbed the related. as a formalized argumentation, freed of restrictions characteristic of literacy, but also so much less expressive than the philosophy of the written word and the endless interpretations it makes possible, philosophy generates its own motivations and justifications. its practical consequences, within a pragmatics based on different forms of semiotic functioning than those of literacy, diminish constantly. the distance between the verbal and the significance of the idea is itself a parameter of the evolution from nature to culture. words such as space, time, matter, motion, become possible only after experience in writing. but once written, there is nothing left of the direct, probably intuitive, human experience of space and time, of experience with matter in its various concrete forms, or of the experience of motion (of the human body or other bodies, some flying, some swimming, running, falling). visual representations-other forms of writing-are closer to what they report about: the cartesian coordinates for space, the clock for a cyclical perception of time, etc. they express particular instances of relations in space or time, or particular aspects of matter or motion. the word is arbitrary in relation to the idea it embodies. the idea itself, getting its life in instances of activity, is knowledge practically revealed in the order of nature or thought. in expressing the idea, rational rigor and expressiveness collide. synthesizing ideas is an instance of the self-constitution of the human being. ideas express the implicit will of the human being to externalize them (what marcuse called "the imperative quality" of thought). once written, words not only defy the ephemerality of the sounds of speech, but also enter the realm of potentially conflicting interpretations. these interpretations result from the conversion of the way we use words in different pragmatic contexts. to be literate means to be in control of language, but it also means acceptance and awareness of being hostage to the experiences of the past in which its rules were shaped. when spelling, for instance, is disassociated from the origin of the word, a totally arbitrary new realm of language is established, one in which transitory conventions replace permanency (or the illusion of permanency), and the appearance of super-temporality of ideas is questioned. each idea is the result of choices in a certain paradigm of existence. its concrete determination, i.e., realization as meaning, comes through its insertion in a pragmatic context. when the context changes, the idea might be confirmed, contradicted (it becomes equivocal), or open to many interpretations (it becomes ambiguous). to give an example, the idea of democracy went through all these stages from its early embodiment in greek society to its liberal application, and even self-negation, in the civilization of illiteracy. it means one thing- the power of people-but in different contexts, depending on how people was defined and how power was exercised. it means so many things in its new contexts that some people really wonder if it actually means anything at all anymore. literacy made communication of ideas possible within a scale of humankind well served by linear relations and in search of proportional growth. but when ideas come to expression in a faster rhythm, and turn in shorter cycles from the univocal to the ambiguous stage, the medium of literacy no longer does justice either to their practical function or to the dynamics of an individual's continuous self-constitution. moreover, it seems that ideas themselves, as forms of human projection, are less necessary under the new projection of pragmatic circumstances we examine. what once seemed almost as the human's highest contribution impacts today's society less and less. we live in a world dominated by methods and products, within which previous ideas have, so it seems, cultural significance, at most. knowledge is reduced to information; understanding is only operational. artificial languages, which keep multiplying, are more and more geared towards methods and products. in the interconnected world of digitally disseminated information, we do not need esperanto, but rather languages that unify the increasing variety of machines and programs we use in our new experiences on the world wide web. efficiency in this world refers to transactions which do not necessarily involve human beings. independent agents, active in business transactions of what emerges as the netconomy, act towards maximizing outcome. such agents are endowed with rules of reproduction, movement, fair trade, and can even be culturally identified. even so, the netconomy is more a promise than a reality. the functioning of such agents allows us to see how the metaphor of language functioning reverts to its literal meaning in the civilization of illiteracy. making thoughts visible at a minimum, the object for which the written sign-the word, sentence, or text-stands is the sign of speech. but writing came a relatively long way before reaching this condition. in prelinguistic forms, graphic representation had its object in reality-the re-presentation of the absent. what is present need not be represented. the direction impressed on visual representation is from past to present. what must be retained is the originating tendency of distancing in respect to the present and the direct, what i called the alienation of immediacy. initial representations, part of a rather primitive repertory, have only an expressive function. they retain information about the absent that is not seen (or heard, felt, smelled) for future relationships between human beings and their environment. the image belongs to nature. that which is communicated is the way of seeing or perceiving it, not what is actually seen. the execution of the written sign is not its realization as information, as is the case with pictographic representations, some leading to the making of things (tools, artifacts). what matters is not how something is written, but what it means. a relatively small number of signs-the alphabet, punctuation and diacritical marks-participate in the infinite competence of writing. no matter how we conceive of human thought, its stabilization comes about with that of writing. the present captured in writing loses its impact of immediate action. no written word has ever reached the surface without being uttered and heard, that is, without being sensed. the possibility of meaning (intended, assigned) stems from the establishment of language within human praxis. it is not accidental (cf. leroi-gourhan) that spatial establishment (in village-type settlements) and the establishment of language in writing (also spatial in nature) are synchronous. but here a third component, the language of drawings, no matter how primitive, helping in the making of things related to shelter and to work, needs to be acknowledged, too. this is the broader context leading to the great moment of greek philosophy in the temporal context of alphabetization, and the cultural context of all kinds of forms of craftsmanship, architecture probably in the lead. socrates, as the philosopher of thinking and discovering truth through dialogue, defended oral culture. or at least that is what plato wanted us to believe when he mentioned socrates' opposition to writing. the great artisans of socrates' time shared this attitude. for building temples, conceiving tools, creating all kinds of useful objects, writing is not a prerequisite. heuristics and maieutics, as methods of questioning human choices, those of craftsmen included, and generating new options, are essentially oral. they presuppose the philosopher's, or the architect's, physical presence. not too much has changed since, if we consider how the disciplines of design and engineering are taught and exercised. but a lot is changing, as design and engineering practical activities rely more and more on digital processing. computational practical experiences, as well as genetic engineering or memetics, are no longer in continuation of those founded on literacy. alphabet cultures and a lesson from aphasia the history of culture has recorded numerous attacks against writing, culminating, probably, in marshall mcluhan's philosophy ( ): alphabetic cultures have uniformized, fragmented, and sequentialized the world, generating an excessive rationalism, nationalism, and individualism. here we have, in a succinct list, the indictment made of gutenberg's galaxy. commenting on e. m. forster's a passage to india, mcluhan remarked: "rational, of course, has for the west long meant uniform and continuous and sequential. in other words, we have confused reason with literacy, and rationalism with a single technology." that mcluhan failed to acknowledge the complementary language of design and engineering, with its own rationality, is a shortcoming, but does not change the validity of the argument. the consequences of these attacks-as much as they can be judged from the historical perspective we have since gained-have nevertheless not been the abatement of writing or of its influence. in the same vein, the need to proceed to an oral-visual culture has been idealistically suggested (barthes' well known plea of can be cited). there is no doubt that all the plans devised by architects, artisans, and designers of artifacts belong to a praxis uniting oral (instructions to those transposing the plan into a product) and visual cultures. many such plans, embodying ideas and concepts probably as daring as those we read in manuscripts and later in books, vanished. some of the artifacts they created did withstand the test of time. even if the domination of the written word somehow resulted in a relatively low awareness of the role drawings played over time, experiences were shaped by them and knowledge transmitted through them. drawings are holistic units of a complexity difficult to compare to that of a text. the meaning conferred by the intermediary of writing is brought about through a process of generalization, or re-individualization: what is it for the individual reading and understanding it? it inversely travels the route that led from speech to writing, from the concrete to the abstract, from the analytic to the synthetic function of language. at any given time, it looks as though we have, on the one hand, the finite reality of signs (alphabet, words, idiomatic expressions) and, on the other, the practically infinite reality embodied in the language sequences or ideas expressed. in view of this, the question arises regarding the source of ideas and the relation between signs (words, in particular) and their assigned meanings, or the content that can be communicated using the language. meaning is conjured in western culture through additive mechanisms, similar to those of mixing pigments. in eastern culture, meaning is based on subtractive mechanisms, similar to those of mixing light. alphabetic writing, although more simple and stabilized, is really more difficult than ideographic writing. the experience from which it results is one of abstraction. henceforth, it subjects the readers of the alphabetic text to the task of filling the enormous gap separating the graphic sign from its referent with their own experience. the assumption of the literate practical experience is that literacy can substitute for the reference through history or culture. readers of ideographic texts have the advantage of the concreteness of the representation. even if chinese characters stand for specific chinese words, as john defrancis convincingly showed, the experience of that writing system remains different from that of western alphabets. since every language integrates its own history as the summary of the practical activity in which it was constituted, reading in a language of a foreign experience means that one must step- by-step invent this writing. research undertaken in the last years shows that at a certain stage, aphasia brings on a regression from alphabet to image reading as design, as pictographic, iconic reading. letters lose their linguistic identity. the aphasic reader sees only lines, intersections, and shapes. ideas expressed in writing crumble like buildings shaken by an earthquake. what is still perceived is the similarity to concrete things. the decline from the abstract to the concrete can be seen as a socio-cultural accident taking place against the background of a natural (biological) accident. in our days we encounter symptoms similar to those described above, testifying to a sort of collective aphasia in reverse. indeed, writing is deconstructed and becomes graffiti notation, shorthand statements freed of language, and defying literacy. for a while, graffiti was criminalized. later on it was framed as art, and the market absorbed the new product among the many others it negotiates. what we probably refused to see is how deep the literacy of graffiti goes, where its roots are, how wide the extensions, and how much aphasia in its writing and reading. after all, it was not only in the new york subway that trains were literally turned into moving papers or moving books, issued as often as authority was circumvented. much of the public hated graffiti because it obliterated legitimate communication and a sense of neatness and order that literacy continuously reinforced. but many also enjoyed it. rap music is the musical equivalent of graffiti. gang rituals and fights are a continuation of these. messages exchanged on the data highways-from e-mail to web communication-often display the same characteristics of aphasia. concreteness is obsessively pursued. :) (the smiley) renders expressions of pleasure useless, while (: (the grince) warns of being flamed. on the digital networks of today's furious exchange of information, collective aphasia is symptomatic of many changes in the cognitive condition of the people involved in its practical experiences. neither opportunistic excitement nor dogmatic rejection of this far-reaching experience can replace the need to understand what makes it necessary and how to best benefit from it. more private languages and more codes than ever circulate as kilo- and megabytes among individuals escaping any form of regulation. on the increasingly rewarding practical experiences of networking, literacy is challenged by transitory, partial literacies. literacy is exposed in its infatuation and emptiness, although not discarded from among the means of expression and communication defining the human being. it is often ridiculed for not being appropriate to the new circumstances of the practical and spiritual experience of a humankind that has outgrown all its clothes, toys, books, stories, tools, and even conflicts. a legitimate follow-up question is whether the literate experience of the word contributes to its progressive lack of determination, or the change of context affects the interpretation, i.e., the semantic shift from determinate to vague. probably both factors play a role in the process. on the one hand, literacy progressively exhausts its potential. on the other, new contexts make it simultaneously less suited as the dominant medium for expression, communication, and signification of ideas. for instance, the establishment of a vague meaning of democracy in political discourse leads to the need for strong contexts, such as armed conflicts, for ascertaining it. in the last years we have experienced many such conflicts, but we were not prepared to see them in conjunction with the forces at work in facilitating higher levels of efficiency according to the new scale that humankind has reached. there is also the attempt to use language as context free as possible-the generalities of all demagogy (liberal, conservative, left or right, religious or emancipated) can serve as examples. but so can all the crystal ball readings, palm readings, horoscopes, and tarot cards, revived in recent years against the background of illiteracy. none of these is new, but the relative flourishing of the market of vagueness and ambiguity, reflective of a deviant functioning of language, is. together with illiteracy, they are other symptoms of the change in pragmatics discussed in this book. these and other examples require a few more words of explanation regarding changes in the functions of language. it is known that the oldest preserved cave drawings are marks (indexical signs) of an oral context rather than representations of hunting scenes (even though they are often interpreted as such). they testify more to those who drew them than to what the drawing is about. the decadent literacy of mystified messages does the same. it speaks about their writers more than about their subject, be this history, sociology, or anthropology. and the increased oral and visual communication, supported by technology, defines the post-literate condition of the human cognitive dimension. the transition from speech to writing corresponds to the shift from the pragmatic-affective level of human praxis to the pragmatic-rational level of linear relations among people and their environment. it takes place in the context of the evolution from the syncretic to the analytic. the transition from literacy to literacies corresponds to the pragmatics of non-linear relations, and results from the evolution from analytic to synthetic. these affirmations, at least as far as the civilization of literacy is concerned, apply to the universe of european cultures and their later extensions. the cultures of the far east are characterized by language's tendency to present, not to explain. the analytical structure of logical thought (which will be discussed in another chapter) is actually formed in the sentence structure of speech, which is fundamentally different in the two cultures mentioned. the imperative energy of the act of expressing confers on the chinese language, for example, a continuous state of birth (speech in the act). the preeminence of the act in oriental culture is reflected by the central position the verb occupies. concentration around the verb guides thought towards the relationship between condition and conditioned. the experience of logic characteristic of european cultures (under the distinctive mark of classical greek philosophy) shows that the main instrument of thinking is the noun. it is freer than the verb (tied to the forms it specifies), more stable, capable of reflecting identity, invariance, and the universal. the logic founded on this premise is oriented toward the search for unity between species and genus. european writing and oriental ideographic writing have each participated in this process of defining logic, rhetoric, heuristics, and dialectics. from a historic perspective, they are complementary. recalling the history of knowledge and history per se, we can say that the european occident achieved the meaning of knowledge and world control, while the orient achieved self-knowledge and self-control. it would seem utopian (and with vast historical, social, ideological, and political implications) to imagine a world harmoniously uniting these meanings. however, this would imply, as the reader can easily surmise, changes in the status of literacy in both cultures. this is exactly the direction of the changes we witness, as languages function towards convergence in the two cultures mentioned. literacy is not only a medium of exchange between cultures; it also sets boundaries among them. this holds true for both western and far eastern (and any other) civilization. japan, for instance, despite the spectacular effort of assimilation and development of new technologies, maintains inside its national boundaries a framework quite well suited to its traditional literacy. outside, it assimilates other literacies. in different ways, this holds true for china. it is willing to build its internal network (intranet) without connecting it to the all-encompassing net (internet) through which we experience some aspects of globality. the organization of hierarchy, which made the object of many studies telling the west why japan succeeds better in economic terms, is centered around the unity semmai-kohai, i.e., senior-junior. within the pragmatic framework of a literacy different from that of the western world, a logic and ethics pertinent to the distinction mentioned evolved. the moral basis of the precedence of the senior over the junior is pragmatic in nature. the chinese formula (cho-jo-no-jo) results from a practical experience encoded not only in language but also in the system of ranking. in fact, what is acknowledged is both experience and performance, expressed by the japanese in the categories of kyu, referring to proficiency, and dau, referring to cumulative results. the system applies to economic life, calligraphy, wrestling (sumo), and flower arrangement (ikebana), as well as to social rank. in the dynamics of current changes, such systems are also affected. from the viewpoint of language functions, we notice that national language can serve for insulation, while adopted language-english, in particular-can serve as a bridge to the rest of the world. nevertheless, japanese society, like all contemporary societies, is more and more confronted with the world in its globality, and with the need to constitute appropriate means for expression, communication and signification pertinent to the global world. while japan is an example of many literate prejudices at work, rigidly hierarchic, discriminating against women and foreigners, dogmatic, it also exemplifies the understanding of changing circumstances for human practical experiences of self-constitution as japanese, and as members of the integrated world community as well. consequently, new literacies emerge within its homogeneous cultural environment, as they emerge in countries such as china, korea, and indonesia, and in the arab nations. as a result, we experience changes in the nature of the relations between the cultures of the far east, middle east, the indian subcontinent and the west. the process expands, probably more slowly than one might expect, to the african and south american continents. global economy requires new types of relations among nations and cultures, and these relations need to correspond to the dynamics of the new pragmatic framework that has emerged against the background of the new scale of human activity. the identity urge expressed in the multiculturalism trend of our days will find in the past its most unreliable arguments. the point is proven by the naive misrepresentation of past events, facts, and figures through the activists of the movement. multiculturalism corresponds to the dynamics of the civilization of illiteracy: from the uniqueness and universality of one dominating mode to plurality, not limited to race, lifestyle, or cultures. whoever sees multiculturalism as an issue of race, or feminism as one of gender (against the background of history), will not be able to design a course of action to best serve those whose different condition is now acknowledged. a different condition results in different abilities, and thus different ways of projecting one's identity in the practical experience of self-constitution. the past is irrelevant; emphasis is always on the future. language and logic around the time computers entered public life, a relatively unknown writer of science fiction described the world of non a (a). it is our planet earth in the year , and what non a denotes is the non-aristotelian logic embodied in a super-computer game machine that rules the planet. gilbert gosseyn (pronounced go sane, with an obvious pun intended) finds out that he is more than just one person. anyone even marginally educated in the history of logic will spontaneously associate the experience described here with levy-bruhl's controversial law of participation. according to this law, "in the collective representations of primitive mentality, objects, beings, phenomena can be, in a way we cannot understand, themselves and something different at the same time." the relatively undifferentiated, syncretic human experience at the time of the inception of notation and writing testifies to awareness of very unusual connections. research of artifacts originating with primitive tribes makes clear the relative dominance of visual thinking and functioning of human beings along the line of what we would today call multi-valued logics. the world of non a, although placed by its author in some fictional future, seems to describe a logic prevalent in a remote time. even today, as anthropologists report, there are tribes in the amazon jungles and in remote eskimo territories whose members claim to be not only the beings they are, but also something else, such as a bird, plant, or even a past event. this is not a way of speaking, but a different way of ascertaining identity. inferences in this pragmatic context go beyond those possible in the logical world of truth and falsehood that aristotle described. multi-valued logic is probably a good name for describing the production of such inferences, but not necessarily the explanation we seek for why it is that self-constitution involves such mechanisms, and how they work. moreover, even if we could get both questions answered, we would still wonder-because our own self-constitution involves a different logic-what the relation is between the language experience and the logical framework of those living in the non a world of ancient times. practical experiences with images, dominant in such tribes, explains why there is a logical continuum, instead of a clear-cut association with truth and falsehood, or with present and absent. multi-valued logics of different types, corresponding to different pragmatic contexts, were actually tamed when language was experienced in its written form and thinking was stabilized in written expressions. awareness of connections distinctly integrated in human experience and quantified in a body of intelligible knowledge progressively clears the logical horizon. as many-valued logics were subdued, entities were constituted only as what the experience made them to be, and no longer simultaneously many different things. the change from orality to the practical experience of written language affected many aspects of human interaction. writing introduced a frame of reference, ways to compare and evaluate, and thus a sense of value associated with limited choices. orality was controlled by those exercising it. the written, stabilized in marks on a surface, gave rise to a new type of questioning, based on its implicit analyticity. over time written language led to associations. some were in relation to its visual aspect. other associations were made to writing patterns, a kind of repetition. integrative by its nature, writing stimulates the quest for comparing experiences of self-constitution by comparing what was recorded. the expectation of accurate recording is implicit in the experience of writing. the rather skeletal incipient written language makes visible connections which within orality faded away. a very raw definition of logic can be the discipline of connections-"if something, then something else"-that can be expressed in many ways, including formal expressions. connections established in orality are spontaneous. with writing, the experience is stabilized and a promise for method is established. this method leads to inferences from connections. what i am trying to suggest is that although there is logic in orality, it is a natural logic, reflecting natural connections, as opposed to connections established in writing. writing provides the x-ray of the elusive body of experience in whose depths awareness of connections and their practical implications was starting to take shape. time and space awareness are gained relatively slowly. in parallel, connections to experiences in time and space are expressed in an incipient awareness of how they affect the outcome of any practical experience. no less than signs, logic is rooted also in the pragmatics of human self-constitution, and probably comes into existence together with them. co-presence, of what is different or what is alike, incompatibilities, exclusions, and similar time or space situations bcome disassociated from actions, objects, and persons and form a well-defined layer of experience. mechanisms of inference, from objects, actions, persons, situations, etc., evolve from simpler configurations or sequences of connections. writing is more effective than rituals or oral expression in capturing inferences, although not necessarily in providing a mechanism for sharing. what is gained in breadth is lost in depth. as human practical experiences get more effective they also become more complex. the cognitive effort substitutes more and more for the physical. stabilized in inferences based on increasingly more encompassing cycles of activity-agriculture is definitely more extensive than hunting or food gathering-experience is transmitted more and more in its skeletal form, deprived of the richness of the individual characteristics of those identified through it. less information and more sequences of successful action-this is how from the richness of connections logic of actions takes shape. the accent is on time and space, or better yet on what we call, in retrospect, references. as writing supplants time-based means of expression and communication (rituals, first of all), temporal logic begins to lose in importance. once the pragmatic horizon of human life changes, literacy, in conjunction with the logic it houses, constitutes its invisible grid, its implicit metrics. the understanding of anything that is not related to our literate self-constitution remains outside this understanding. literate language is a reductionist machine, which we use to look at the world from the perspective of our own experience. aware of experiences different from ours, at least of their possibility, we would like to understand them, knowing perfectly well that once captured in our experience of language, their own condition is negated. oral education maintained the parent-child continuum, and memory, i.e., experience, was directly transmitted. literacy introduced means for handling discontinuity and, above all, differences. it stored, in some form of record, everything pertaining to the experience. but as record, it constituted a new experience, with its own inherent values. as a reductionist device, writing reduces language to a body of accepted ways of speaking, recording, and reading governed by two kinds of rules: pertinent to connections (logic), and pertinent to grammar. the process was obviously more elaborate and less focused. in retrospect, we can understand how writing affected the experience of human self-constitution through language. it is therefore understandable why those who, following the young wittgenstein, take the logic of language for granted, seeing only the need to bring to light what is concealed in the signs of language, are wrong. language does not have an intrinsic logic; each practical experience extracts logic from the experience and contaminates all means of human expression by the inference from what is possible to what is necessary. logics behind the logic the function of coordination resulting from the use of language evolved over time. what did not change is the structure of the coordinating mechanism. logic as we know it, i.e., a discipline legitimized by literate use of language, is concerned with structural aspects of various languages. the attempt to explain how and why conditions leading to literacy were created, after the writing entered the realm of human experience, can only benefit from an understanding of the coordinating mechanism of writing and literacy, which includes logic but is not reducible to it. this mechanism consisted of rules for correct language use (grammar), awareness of connections specific to the pragmatic framework (logic), means of persuasion (rhetoric), selection of choices (heuristics), and argumentation (dialectics). together, they give us an image of how complex the process of self-constitution is. separately, they give us insight into the fragmented experiences of language use, rationality, conviction, selection, actions, and beliefs. there is a logic behind the (relative) normal course of events, and also behind any crisis, if we want to extend the concept of logic so as to include the rational description or explanation of whatever might have led to the crisis. and there are logics behind the logic, as descartes, the authors of the port royale logic (actually the art of thinking), locke, and many others saw it. the logic of religion, the logic of art, of morality, of science, of logic itself, the logic of literacy, are examples of the variety people consider and establish as their object of interest, subjecting such logic to the test of completeness (does it apply to everything?), consistency (is it contradictory?), and sometimes transitivity. independent of the subject (religion, art, ethics, a precise science, literacy, etc.), human beings establish the particular logic as a network of reciprocal relations and functional dependencies according to which truth (religious, artistic, ethical, etc.), relevant to the practical experience in more than one way, can and should be pursued. this logic, an extension of the incipient awareness of connections, became a formal system, which some researchers in philosophy and psychology still believe is somehow attached to the brain (or to the mind), ensuring its correct functioning. indeed, successful action was seen as a result of logic, hard-wired as part of the biological endowment. other researchers perceived logic as a product of our experience, in particular thinking, as this applies to our self-constitution in the natural world and the world we ourselves created. as a corpus of rules and criteria, logic applies to language, but there is a logic of human actions, a logic of art, a logic of morals, etc., described by rules for preserving consistency, maintaining integrity, facilitating causal inference and other relevant cognitive operations, such as articulating a hypothesis or drawing conclusions. an old question sneaks in: is there a universal logic, something that in its purity transcends differences in language, in biological characteristics, in differences, period? the answer depends on whom one asks. from the perspective assumed so far, the answer is definitely no. differences are emphasized, even celebrated here, precisely because they extend to the different logics that pertain to various practical experiences. formulated as such, the answer is elusive because, after all, logic is expressed through language, and once expressed, it constitutes a body of knowledge which in turn participates in practical human experiences. no stronger proof of this can be given than the boolean logic embedded in computer hardware and programming languages. a more appropriate answer can be given once we notice that major language systems embody different logical mechanisms that pertain to language's coordinating function. the main logical systems require our attention because they are related to what makes literacy necessary and, under new pragmatic conditions, less necessary, if not superfluous. since the civilization of illiteracy is viewed also from the perspective of the changes resulting in a new scale of human praxis, it becomes necessary to see whether in the global world forces of uniformity or forces of heterogeneity and diversity, embodied in various literacies and the logic attached to them, or associated with their use, are at work. as almost all scholars agree, aristotle is the father of the logic that applies to the western language system. writing helped to encode his logic of proper inference from premises expressed in sentences. literacy gave this logic a house, and a sense of validity and permanency that scholars accept almost as religion. for eastern systems, contributions of equal value and relevance can be found in the major writings of ancient china and japan, as well as in hindu documents. instead of a superficial overview of the subject, i prefer to quote fung-yu-lan's precise observation regarding the particular focus of chinese philosophy (which is also representative of the far east): "philosophy must not be simply the object of cognition, it must also be the object of an experience." the resulting expression of this endeavor differs from the indian, in search of a certain state of mind, not formulations of truth, and from western philosophical statements. it takes the form of concise, often enigmatic, and usually paradoxical statements or aphorisms. a very good presentation of this experience is given in a famous text by chuang-tzu: "the words serve to fix the ideas, but once the idea is grasped, there is no need to think about words. i wish i could find somebody who has ceased to think of words and have him with me to talk to." the logic of the indo-european languages is based on the recognition of the object-action distinction, expressed in language through the noun and the verb. for over , years, this logic has dominated and maintained the structure of society, of the polis, to use aristotle's term. indeed, he defined the human as zoon politikon- community (polis), animal (zoon)-and his logic is an attempt to discover what was the cognitive structure that ensured proper inference from premises expressed in sentences. probably as much as some who today hope for a similar achievement through formal languages, he wanted logic to be as independent as possible of the language used, as well as independent of the particular language spoken by people belonging to different communities. parallel to the language housing aristotle's logic was a different system in which the verb (referring to action) was assimilated in the object, as in the chinese and japanese languages. every action became a noun (hunting, running, talking), and a non-predicative language mode was achieved. aristotle's construction goes like this: if a is b (the sky is covered), and if b is c (the cover are clouds), then a is c (cloudy sky). non-predicative constructions do not come to a conclusion but continue from one condition to another, as in approximately: being covered, covers being clouds, clouding being associated with rain, rain...and so on. that is, they are open-ended connections in status nascendi. we notice that aristotelian logic derives the truth of the inference from the truth of the premise, based on a formal relation independent of both. in non- predicative logic, language only points to possible chains of relations, implicitly acknowledging that others are simultaneously possible without deriving knowledge, or without subjecting conclusions to a formal test of their truth or falsehood. to the abstract and formal representation of knowledge inference, it opposes a model of concrete and natural representation in which distinctions regarding quality are more important than quantity distinctions. based on observations already accumulated, first of all that ideographic writing keeps the means of expression very close to the object represented in language, we can understand why languages expressed in ideographic writing are not adapted to the kind of thinking aristotle and his followers developed and which culminated in the western notion of science, as well as in the western system of values. the successive rediscovery of far eastern modes of representation and of the philosophy growing out of this very different way of thinking, as well as of the interest in subtleties rather uncommon to our culture, resulted in the many attempts we witness to transcend the boundaries between these fundamentally different language structures. the purpose is to endow our language, and thus our thinking and emotional life, with dimensions structurally impossible within the western framework of existence. the logic of dependency-the japanese amé-is one of embedded relations and many conjectures resulting in a logic of actions, a different way of thinking, and a different system of values. these are partially reflected in the periodic misunderstandings between the western world and japan. of course, it can be simplified as to mean that if a company and an employee accept it, and they do so since amé is structurally embedded in the life of people, both parties will be faithful to each other no matter what. amé can also be simplified to mean a mutual relationship within families (all prejudices included), or among friends. but as we get closer to the practical experience of amé (takeo doi's writing on the "anatomy of dependence" helps us a great deal in this attempt), we realize that it constitutes a framework, marking not only distinct decisions (logically justified), but an entire context of thinking, feeling, acting, evaluating. it is reflected in the attitude towards language and in the education system, inculcating dependency as a logic that takes priority over the individual. evidently, the only way to integrate the logic of amé into our logic-if indeed we think that this is right, moreover that it is possible-is through practical experience. although amé seems to point to some limits inherent in our language, it actually reveals limits in our self-constitution, as part of establishing a network of generalized mutual relationships as part of our experience. it should be added that practically a mirrored phenomenon occurs in the far east, where what can be perceived as the limitations of the language system and the logic it supports (or embodies), triggered an ever-growing interest in western culture and many attempts to copy or to quickly assimilate it in vocabulary and behavior. from the indian universe comes not only the mysticism of the vedic texts, but also the stubborn preoccupation with the human condition (both the aspect of conditioning and of what mircea eliade called de-conditioning). this resulted in the attraction it exercises on many people looking for an alternative to what they perceive as an over-conditioned existence, usually translated as pressure of performance and competitive attitudes. some opted out of literacy, and generally out of their culture, in search of liberation (mukti), a practical experience of lower preoccupation with the useful and higher spiritual goals, and of obstinate refusal of logic. (some really never fully appropriated or internalized the philosophy, but adopted a lifestyle emulating commercialized models, the exotic syntax of escapism.) in short, and trying not to preclude future discussion of these phenomena, the historic development of language and logic within the many cultures we know of-more than the western and far eastern mentioned-bears witness to the very complex relation between who and what people are: their language and the logic that the language makes possible and later embodies. the hunter in the west, and the hunter in the far east, in africa, india, papua, the fishermen, the forager, etc. relate in different ways to their environment and to their peers in the community. the way their relatively similar experiences are embodied in language and other means of expression plays an important role in forms of sharing, religion, art, in the establishment of a value system, and later on education and identity preservation. there are common points, however, and the most relevant refer to relations established in the work process, as these affect efficiency. these commonalties prove relevant to understanding the role language, in conjunction with logic, exercises on various stages of social and economic development. a plurality of intellectual structures since scale (of humankind, of groups performing coherent activities, of activities themselves) plays such an important role in the dynamics of human self-constitution through practical activities involving language, it is only fair to question whether logic is affected by scale. again, the answer will depend upon who is asked. logic as we study it has nothing to do with scale. an inference remains preserved no matter how many people make it, or study it, for that matter. but this reflects the universalistic viewpoint. once we question the constitution of logic itself, and trace it to practical experiences resulting in the awareness of connections, it becomes less obvious that logic is independent of scale. actually, some experiences are not even possible without having reached a critical mass, and the relation between simple and complex is not one of progression. but it is certainly a multi-valued relation, granted with elements of progression. the practical experience of a tribe (in africa, north america, or south america) is defined at the scale of relations inside the tribe, and between the tribe and the relatively limited environment of existence. the logic (or pre-logic, to adapt the jargon of some anthropologists) specific to this scale corresponds to the dominance of instincts and intuitions, and is expressed within the visually dominant means of expression and communication characteristic of what is called the primitive mentality. from all we know, memory plays a major role in shaping patterns of activity. the power of discrimination (through vision, hearing, smell, etc.) is extraordinary; adaptability is much higher than that of humans in modern societies. these tribe members live in a phase of disjoint groups, unaware even of biological commonalties among such groups, focused on themselves in pursuing survival strategies not much different from those of other living creatures who share the same environment. once these groups start relating to each other, the practical experiences of self-constitution diversify. cooperation and exchange increase, and language, in many varieties, becomes part of the self-constitution of various human types. languages originate in areas associated with the early nuclei of agriculture. these are places where the population could increase, since in some ways the pragmatics was effective enough to provide for a greater number of people. probably primitive agriculture is the first activity in which a scale threshold was reached and a new quality, constituted in the practical experience of language, emerged. it is also an activity with a precise logic embodied in the awareness of a multitude of levels where connections are critical for the outcome of the activity, i.e., for the well being of those practicing it. the sacredness of place, to which the latin root of the word culture (cultus) refers, is embodied in the practical activity with everything pertinent to human experience. logic captures the connection between the place and the activity. in a variety of embodiments-from ways to sequence an action to the use of available resources, how to pursue a plan, craft tools, etc.-logic is integrated in culture and, in turn, participates in shaping it. it is a two-way dependency which increases over time and results in today's logical machines that define a culture radically different from the culture of the mechanical contraption. there are differences in the type of intelligence, which need to be acknowledged. and there are differences resulting from the variety of natural contexts of practical life, which we need to consider. commonalties of the survival experience and further development should also be placed in the equation of human self-constitution. within the pragmatics of the post-industrial, the logic extracted from practical experiences of self-constitution in the world and the logic constituted in experiences defining the world of the human are increasingly different. we no longer read the logic of language and infer from it to the experience, but project our own logic (itself a practical result of self-constitution) upon the experience in the world. the algebra of thought, a cross section of rational thinking that boole submitted with his calculus of logics, is a good example, but by no means the only one. languages are created in order to support a variety of logical systems, e.g., autoepistemic, temporal and tense propositional, modal, intuitionist. one would almost expect the emergence of a universal logic and a universal language (attempts were and are made to facilitate such a universalism). leibniz had visions of an ideal language, a characteristica universalis and a calculus ratiocinator. so did many others, from the th century on, not realizing that in the process of diversification of human experiences, their dream became progressively less attainable. in parallel, we gave up the logical inheritance of the past: logic embedded in a variety of autarchic primitive practical experiences that various groups (in africa, asia, europe, etc.) had up to our time is rapidly becoming a cultural reference. the scale that such experiences embody and the logic appropriate to that scale are simply absorbed in the larger scale of the global economy. we are simply no longer in the position to effectively unveil the logic of magical experiences, not even of those rational or rationalizable aspects that refer to the plants, animals, and various minerals used by the peoples preceding us for avoiding disease or treating illness. in our days, the cultures swinging from the sacred to the profane, from the primitive to the over-developed, come closer together. this happens not because everyone wants this to happen, not even because all benefit (in fact, many give up an identity-their own way of life-for a condition of non-identity that characterizes a certain style of living). the process is driven by the need to achieve levels of efficiency appropriate to the scale humankind reached. the various groups of people are integrated as humans in the first place (not as tribes, nations, or religions), and consequently a pragmatic framework of increasing integration is progressively put in place. the euro-centrist (or western) notion that all types of intelligence develop towards the western type (and thus the western practice of language culminating in literacy) has been discredited many times. the plurality of intellectual structures has been acknowledged, unfortunately either demagogically or in lip-service to the past, but never as an opening to the future. literacy eradicated, for valid practical reasons- those of the industrial revolution-heterogeneity, and thus variety from among the experiences through which people constitute themselves in the universe of their experience. when those reasons are exhausted, because new circumstances of existence and work require a new logic, literacy becomes a hindrance, without necessarily affecting the role of the logic inhabiting it. the scale of human life and activity, and the associated projection of expectations beyond human survival and preservation, lead less to the need for universal literacy than to the need for several literacies and for a rich variety of logical horizons. since the coordinating mechanism consists of logic, rhetoric, heuristics, and dialectics, the new scale prompts the emergence of new rhetorical devices, among other things. it suffices to think about persuasion at the level of the global village, or about persuasion at the level of the individual, as the individual can be filtered in this global village through mechanisms of networking and multimedia interactivity. logical mechanisms of mass communication are replaced by logical considerations of increased individual communication. think about new heuristic procedures at work on the world wide web, as well as in market research and in netconomy transactions. consider a new dialectic, definitely that of the infertile opposition between what is proclaimed as very good and excellent, as we try to convince ourselves that mediocrity is eradicated by consensus. fascinating work in multi-valued logic, fuzzy logic, temporal logic, and many areas of logical focus pertinent to computation, artificial intelligence, memetics, and networking allow progress well beyond what the science fiction of the world of non a presented us with. the logics of actions between the relatively monolithic and uniform ideal of a literate society convinced of the virtues of logic, and the pluralistic and heterogeneous reality of partial literacies that transfer logic to machines, one can easily distinguish a change in direction. persons with a rather adequate literate culture, educated in the spirit of rationality guarded by classic or formal logic, are at a loss when facing the sub-literacies of specialized practical endeavors, or the illogical inferences made within new fields of human self-constitution. let us put their attitude in some perspective. at various stages in human evolution-for instance, transition from scavenging to hunting, or from hunting and foraging to herding and agriculture-people experienced the effects of the erosion of some behavioral codes and projected their new condition in new practical patterns. one type of cohesion represented in the declining behavioral code was replaced by another; one logic, deferring the code, was followed by others. when interaction among groups of different types of cohesion occurred, logic was severely challenged. sometimes, as a result, one logic dominated; other times, compromise was established. primitive stages are remarkably adaptive to the environment. our stage, remote in many ways from the wellspring (ursprung), consists of an appropriated environment within which the effort is to provide a pragmatic framework for high efficiency. logic, rhetoric, heuristics, and dialectics interact inside this framework. in other words, human evolution goes from sensorial anchoring in the natural world to an artificial (human crafted) world superimposed on the concrete reality-and eventually extended into artificial life, one from among the most recently established fields of scientific inquiry. within this world, humans no longer restrict the projection of their natural and intellectual condition through one (or very few) comprehensive sign systems. quite to the contrary, the effort is towards segmentation, with the aim of reaching not global cohesion, but local cohesiveness, corresponding to local optima. the complexity and the nature of the changes within this system result in the need for a strategy of segmentation, and a logic, or several, supporting it. in the interaction between a language and the humans constituted in it, as the embodiment of their biological characteristics and of their experience, logical conflicts are not excluded. after all, the logic of actions, influenced by heuristics as well, and the logic inherent to literacy are not identical. actions bring to mind agents of action and thus the logic integrated in tools and artifacts. the assumption that the same logic housed in language is involved in the expression leading to the making of tools and other objects related to people's activity went unchallenged for a long time. even today, designers and engineers are educated according to an ideal of literacy that is expected to reflect in their work the rationality exemplified in the literate use of language. complementing most of the development of humankind's language, drawings have expressed ideas about how to make things and how to perform some operations that are part of our continuous experience of self- constitution in practical activity. each drawing embodies the logic of the future artifact, no matter how useful or even how ephemeral. there is a large record of literate work from which logical aspects of thinking can be derived. there is a rather small record of drawing, and not too many surviving artifacts. they were conceived for precise practical experiences and usually did not outlast the experience, or the person who embodied it. roads, houses, tools, and other objects indeed survived, but it is not until better tools for drawing itself and better paper became available that a library of engineering was established. as a hybrid between art and science, engineering accepts the logic of scientific discovery only in order to balance it against the logic of aesthetic expectations. in the pragmatic framework of the civilization of illiteracy, engineering definitely has a dominant position in respect to the self-constitution of the human being in language- based practical experiences. this is due to the impact it has on the efficiency of human practical experiences and on their almost endless diversification. there is a phase of conflict, a phase of accommodation, and a phase of complementarity when some means (such as language and the means for visualization used by designers and engineers) replace others, if they do not render them useless. in our time of experiences involving many more people than ever, of distributive transactions, of heterogeneity, and of interactions that go beyond the linearity of the sequence, the structural characteristics of literacy interfere with the new dynamics of human development as this is supported by very powerful technologies embodying a variety of logical possibilities. at this time, the implicit logic of literacy and the new logics (in the plural) collide in the pragmatic framework. within the logic of the literate discourse, followed volens nolens in this book, it should be clear that the attempt to salvage literacy is the attempt to maintain linear relations, determinism, hierarchy (of values), centralization-which fostered literacy-in a framework requiring non-linearity, decentralization, distributed modes of practical experiences, and unstable value (among others). the two frameworks are logically incompatible. this does not mean that literacy has to be discarded altogether, or that it will disappear, as cuneiform notation and pictographic writing did, or that it will be replaced by drawing or by computer-based language processing. the linear will definitely satisfy a vast number of practical activities; so will deterministic explanations and centralism (political, religious, technological, etc.), and even an elitist sense of value. but instead of being a universal standard, or even a goal (to linearize everything that is not linear, to ascertain sequences of cause and effect, to find a center and practice centrality), it will become part of a complex system of relations, free of hierarchy-or at least with fast changing hierarchies-valueless, adaptive, extremely distributed. of no less significance is the type of logic (and for that matter, rhetoric, heuristics, and dialectics) housed in language, i.e., projected from the universe of human self-constitution in the system of inferences, knowledge, and awareness of the being characteristic of literate frameworks of practical experiences. language successfully captured a dualistic logic indebted to the values of truth and falsehood, and supported experiences embodied in the abstract character of logical rationality. it was complemented by logical symbolism and logical calculus, very successful in formalizing dualism, and in eliminating logical models not fitting the dualistic structure. literacy instilled bivalent logic as another of its invisible layers-something is written or not, the written is right or wrong-allowing only quite late, and actually in the realm of logical formalism, the appearance of multi-valued schemes. the non-linearity, vagueness, and fuzziness characteristic of the post-industrial pragmatic framework opened avenues of high human efficiency, better adapted to the scale of humankind that required efficiency and eventually made efficiency its major goal. literacy is ill endowed for supporting multi-valued logic, although it was always tempted to step in its vast territories. even some of the disciplines built around and in extension of literacy (such as history, philosophy, sociology) are not able to integrate a logic different from the one seated in the practical experience of reading and writing. this explains, for instance, computationalism as a new horizon for science, within which multi-valued logic can be simulated even if the computer's underlying structure is that of boolean logic. the literate argument of science and multimedia's non-linear heuristic path to science are fundamentally different. each requires a different logic and results in a different interaction between those who constitute their identity in the practical experience of scientific experiments and those who constitute their identity in co- participation. it took longer in the world of predicative logic and in the science based on analytic power to accept fuzzy logic and to integrate it in new artifacts, than it took in the world of non-predicative logic and in the science based on the power of synthesis. within the universe of non-predicative language, fuzzy logic made it into the design of control mechanisms for high-speed trains, as well as into new efficient toasters. it was accepted in japan while it was still debated among experts in the western world, until , when a washing machine integrating fuzzy logic was introduced in the market. this fact can go on record as more than a mere example in a discussion regarding the implications of the global economy for the various language systems and the logical coordinating mechanisms specific to each. progress in understanding and emulating human thinking shows a progression from a literacy-based model to a model rooted in the new pragmatic framework. rule- based, pattern-matching systems generalize predicate calculus; neural networking is devoted to mimicking the way minds work, in a synthetic neuron-plex array; fuzzy logic addresses the limitations of boolean calculus and the nondeterminism of neural networks, and concentrates on modeling imprecision, ambiguity, and undecidability as these are embodied in new human practical experiences. sampling within the civilization of literacy, recollection and the logic attached to it are predominantly made through quoting. in the literate framework, to know something means to be able to write about it, thus reconfirming the logic of writing. lives are subject to memories, and diaries are our interpreted life, written with some reader in mind: the beloved, one's children, a posterity willing to acknowledge or understand. the literate means of sharing in successive practical experiences contain the expected logic and affect both the experience and its communication. everything seems to originate in the same context: to know means to re-live the experience. the literate gnoseology, with its implicit logic, is based on continuously remaking, reconstituting the experience as a language experience. this is why every form of writing based on the structure embodied in literacy-literary or philosophic, religious, scientific, journalistic, or political-is actually rewriting. the civilization of illiteracy is one of sampling, a concept originating in genetics. to understand what this means, it is useful to contrast quotation and sampling. literate appropriation in the form of quotation takes place in the structure of literacy. sequences are designed to accept someone else's words. a quote introduces the hierarchy desired or acknowledged by invoking authority or questioning it. authorship is exercised by producing a context for interpretation and maintaining literate rules for their expression. interpretations are determined by the implicit expectation of reproducing the deterministic structure of literacy, i.e., its inner logic. the quote embodies centralism by establishing centers of interest and understanding around the quoted. illiterate appropriation corresponds to a dissolution of hierarchy, to an experience of dissolving it and doing away with sequence, authorship, and the rules of logical inference. it questions the notion of elementary meaningful units, extending choices beyond well formed sentences, beyond words, beyond morphemes or phonemes (which always mean a lot to linguists, but almost nothing to the people constituting themselves in literate language experiences), and beyond formal logic. these techniques of sampling lead to actual undoing. rhythms of words can be appropriated, as writers did long before the technology of musical sampling became available. so can the structure of a sentence be appropriated, the feel of a text, or of many other forms of expression that are not literacy-based (the visual arts, for instance). anything pertaining to a written sentence-and for that matter to music, painting, odor, texture, movement (of a person, of images, leaves on a tree, stars, rivers, etc.)-can be selected, decomposed into units as small as one desires, and appropriated as an echo of the experience it embodies. genetic configurations, as they apply to plants and other living entities, can be sampled as well. genetic splicing maintains the relations to the broader genetic texture of plants or animals. spliced, a word, a sentence, or a text still maintains relations to the experience in which it was constituted. these relations are enormously relativized, subjected to a logic of vagueness. when they relate to what we write, they are empowered by emotional components that the literate experience expelled from literate expression. there is room for variation, for spontaneity, for the accidental, where before the rigor and logic of good writing stood guard against anything that might disturb. when they relate to a biological structure, they concern specific characteristics, such as composition or perisability. within the culture of sampling, the expectation of a shared body of literacy and its attached logic are quite out of touch with the dynamics of discarding the past as having no other significance than as an extended alphabet from which one can choose, at random or with some system, letters fitting the act. the letters are part of a sui generis alphabet, changing as practical experiences change, interacting with many logical rules for using them or for understanding how they work. in this new perspective, interpretation is always another instance of constituting the language, not only using it. biological sampling, along with the associated splicing, also regards the living as a text. its purpose is to affect some components in order to achieve desired qualities related to taste, look, nutritional value, etc. this is the core of genetic engineering, a practical experience in which the logic of life, expressed in dna sequences and configurations, takes precedence over the logic of language and literacy, even if the text metaphor, so prominent in genetics, plays such a major role. it is worth recalling that the word text derives from the latin word for to weave, which was later applied to coherent collections of written sentences. sampling does not necessarily transform everything into the gray mass of information. in their practical experiences, people sample emotions and feelings as they sample foods in supermarkets, sample entertainment programs (television sampling included), sample clothing, and even partners (for special occasions or as potential spouses, partners in business, or whatever else). as opposed to quoting, sampling- periodic, random, or sequential-results in the severing from what literacy celebrated as tradition and continuity. and it challenges authorship. with increased sampling as a practical experience of diversification, the human being acquires a very specific freedom not possible within boundaries of the literate experience. tradition is complemented by forms of innovation impossible within a pragmatic framework of progression and dualistic (true-false) experience. this becomes even more clear when we understand that sampling is followed by synthesis, which might be neither true nor false, but appropriate (to some degree). in the case of music, a device called a sequencer is used for this purpose. the composite is synthetic. a new experience, significant in itself at formal levels corresponding to the constitution of ad hoc languages and their consumption in the act, becomes possible. the mixmaster is a machine for recycling arbitrarily defined constitutive units such as notes, rhythms, or melodic patterns freed from their pragmatic identity. what is significant is that the same applies to the biological text, including the biology of the human being. in some ways, genetic mutation acquires the status of a new means for synthesizing new plants and animals, and even new materials. the artistic technique of collage is based on a logic of choices beyond those of realistic representations. logical rules of perspective are negated by rules of juxtaposition. collage, as a technique, anticipates the generalized stage of sampling and compositing. it changes our notion of intellectual property, trademark, and copyright, all expressions of a logic firmly attached to the literate experience. the famous case of dr. martin luther king's plagiarism reflected aspects of primitive culture carried over to the civilization of illiteracy: there is no authorship; once something becomes public, it is free to be shared. in the same vein, there is no malcolm x left in the poetry resulting from sampling his speeches, or anyone else's for that matter. post-modern literature and painting result from sampling exercises governed by an ear or eye keen to our day's vernacular of machines and alienation. the same applies to plants, fruits, and microbes insofar as sampling does not preserve previous identities, but constitutes new ones, which we integrate in new experiences of our own self-constitution. from the perspective of logic, the procedure is of interest to the extent that it establishes domains of logical appropriateness. logical identity is redefined from a dynamic perspective. from a pragmatic viewpoint, certain experiences might be maximized by applying a certain logic to them. moreover, within some experiences, complementary logics-each logic assigned to a precise aspect of the system-can be used together in strategies of layered management of the process, or in parallel processes, checked against each other at defined instances. strategies for maximizing market transactions, for instance, integrate various decision-making layers, each characterized by a different logical assumption. we experience a process of replacing the rigid logical framework of literate condition with many logical frameworks, adapted to diversity. in conclusion, one more aspect should be approached. is it enough to say that language expresses the biological and the social identity of the human being? to deal with language, and more specifically with the embodiment of language in literacy, means to deal with everything that makes the human being the bio-socio-politico- cultural entity that defines our species. the logical appears to be an underlying element: bio-logical, socio-logical, etc. the hierarchy will probably bother some, since it seems that language assumes a higher place among the many factors participating in the process of human self-constitution. indeed, in order for the human being to qualify as zoon politikon, as homo sapiens, or homo ludens (playful man) or homo faber, he or she must first qualify for the interactions which each designation describes: on the biological level, with other human beings, within structures of common interest, in the realm of a human being's own nature. this is why humans define themselves through practical experiences involving signs. at the various levels at which such signs are generated, interpreted, comprehended, and used to conceive new signs, human identity is ascertained. this is what prompted felix hausdorf to define the human being as zoon semeiotikon- semiotic animal, sign-using animal. moreover, charles sanders peirce considered semiotics as being the logic of vagueness. signs-whether pictures, sounds, odors, textures, words (or combinations), belonging to a language, diagram, mathematical or chemical formalism, new language (as in art, political power, or programming), genetic code, etc.-relate to human beings, not in their abstraction but in the concreteness of their participation in our lives and work. memetic optimism john locke knew that all knowledge is derived from experience. but he was not sure that the same applies to logic or mathematics. if we define experience as self- constitutive practical activity, whose output is the ever-changing identity of the individual or individuals carrying out the experience, logic derives from it, as do all knowledge and language. this places logic not outside thought, but in experience, and raises the question of logical replication. dawkins defined the replicator as a biological molecule that "has the extraordinary property of being able to make copies of itself." such an entity is supposed to have fecundity, fidelity, longevity. language is a replicator; or better yet, it is a replicative medium. the question is whether duplication can take place only by virtue of its own structural characteristics, or whether one has to consider logic, for instance, as the rule of replication. moreover, maybe logic itself is replicative in nature. this discussion belongs to the broader subject of memetics. its implicit assumption is that memes, the spiritual equivalent of genes, are subject to mechanisms of evolution. as opposed to natural evolution, memetic evolution is through more efficient orders of magnitude, and faster by far. in experiences of cultural transfer (sharing of experience as a practical experience itself) or of inheritance-genetic or memetic, or a combination of both- something like a gene of meaning was suspected to exist. were it to exist, that would not mean, within our pragmatic system, that signification is carried over through memetic replication, but that practical experiences of human self-constitution involve the act of conjuring meaning under the guise of various logics pertinent to sign processes. replication is, then, not of information, but of fundamental processes, conjuring of meaning being one of them. evolution of language, as well as of logic, belongs to cultural evolution. meme mutation and spread of a reduced scale, such as the scale of finite artificial languages and limited logical rules, can be described in equations similar to those of genetics. but once the scale changes, it is doubtful that we could encode the resulting complexity in such formalizations. be this as it may, expression, communication, and signification, the fundamental functions of any sign system, regardless of its logic, are endowed with replicative qualities. logic prevents corruption, or at least provides means for identifying it. the easiest way to understand this statement is to relate it to the many replications involved in the manipulation of data in a computer. the error message announcing corruption of data corresponds to a replication process that went astray. like all analogies, this one is not infallible: a certain logic, against whose rules the replication is tested, might simply prove to be inadequate to processes of replication that are different in nature. indeed, if the logic implicit in the experience of literacy were to authenticate semiotic processes characteristic of the civilization of illiteracy, the error message of corruption would overrun the monitor. all that occurs in the experience of networking and all that defines virtuality pertain to a logical framework that is by no means a memetic replication of the aristotelian or some other logical system intrinsic to the experience of literacy. memes residing in the brain's neuronal structure, as a pattern of pits on a cd- rom, or in an html (hypertext markup language) web format can be replicated. interactions among minds correspond to a different dynamic realm, the realm of their reciprocal identification. book three language as mediating mechanism mention the word mediation today, or post it on the internet. swarms of lawyers will come after you. from the many meanings mediation has acquired over time, dispute resolution is the practical activity that has appropriated the word. nevertheless, in its etymology, mediation attests to experiences that pre-date lawyers as they pre- date the earliest attempt to introduce laws. mediation, along with heuristics, is definitory of the human species. from all we know, nature is a realm of action and reaction. the realm of human activity implies a third element, an in-between, be this a tool, a word, a plan. this applies to primitive experiences of self-constitution, as well as to current embedded mediating activities: mediation of mediation ad infinitum. in each mediation there is the potential for further mediation. that is, the inserted third can be divided in turn. a lever used to move a very heavy object can be supplemented by another one, or two or more, all applied to the task at hand. each tool can progressively evolve into a series of tools. each individual called upon to mediate can call upon others to perform a chain of related or unrelated mediations. the same holds true for signs and language. mediation is the practical experience of reducing to manageable size a task that is beyond the abilities of an individual or individuals identified through the task. mediation is a mapping from a higher scale of complexity to a scale that the persons involved in a task can handle. this chapter will examine various phases of mediated human experiences. we shall examine at which pragmatic junctures language and, subsequently, literacy provide mediating functions. more important, we will define the conditions that require mediations for which literacy is no longer adequate. since tools, in their mediating function, will be frequently brought into the argument, a distinction needs to be made from the outset: signs, language, artificial languages, and programs (for computers and other devices) are all mediating entities. what distinguishes these from tools is their caoability for self-replication. they are, as much as humans constituting their identity in semiotic processes, subject to evolutionary cycles structurally similar to those of nature. their evolution is, as we know, much faster than genetic evolution. the genetic make-up of the human species has changed relatively little, while the mediating elements that substantially contributed to the increase in human efficiency underwent many transformations. some of these are no longer evolutionary, but revolutionary, and mark discontinuities. genetic continuity is a background for pragmatic discontinuity. the moments of discontinuity correspond to threshold values in the scale of human activity. they regard mediating devices and strategies as dynamic components of the pragmatic framework. the power of insertion self-constitution in mediating and mediated practical experiences is different from self-constitution in direct forms of praxis. in direct praxis, the wholeness of the being is externalized. but it is the partial being-partial in respect to the human's biological and intellectual reality-that is projected in mediated practical experiences. the narrow, limited, and immediate scope of direct human activity explains why no mediation, or only accidental mediation (unintended mediation), characterizes the pragmatic framework. in the long run, mediation results in the severed relation between individuals and their social and natural environments. as we shall see, this fact has implications for literacy. a long chain of mediations separates the working individual from the object to be worked upon, be this object raw material, processed goods, thoughts, or other experiences. it is not easy to immediately realize the pervasiveness of mediation and its effects on human activity and self-constitution. people introduce all the intermediaries they need in order to maintain efficiency. because we notice only the immediate layer with which we come into contact-the tool we use or the object we act upon-we have difficulty in recognizing the pervasiveness of mediation. the multitude of intermediaries involved in fabricating one finished product is far beyond our direct involvement. division, in the context of labor, means to break a task into smaller parts that are easier to rationalize, understand, and execute. division engenders the specialization of each mediating element. to specialize means to be involved in practical experiences through which skills and knowledge pertinent to activity segmented through labor division are acquired. whether division of physical work or of intellectual activity, at the end of the process there is a large number of components which have to be assembled. even more important, the quantity of pieces, the order in which various pieces come together, and the intermediary sequences of checks and balances (if something does not work, it is better to find out before the entire product is assembled) are essential. all these constitute the integration aspect, which requires the element of coordination through tools and methods. the segmentation of work in order to reach higher efficiency is not arbitrary. the goal is to arrive at coherent units of simpler work, which in some ways are like the letters of an alphabet. in this model, production resembles writing different words by combining available letters. segmentation of work takes place concomitant with the effort to conceive of tools appropriate to each segment in order to ensure the desired efficiency. in effect, to specialize means to be aware of and to master tools that correspond to a step in the sequence leading to the desired result-the final word, in keeping with our example. conversely, what sometimes looks like excessive specialization in our day-e.g., in medicine, physics, mathematics, electronics, computer science, transportation-is the result of the propensity of each mediating element to engender a need for further mediations, which reflect expectations for efficiency. simultaneously with the differentiation of work, language changed, becoming itself more differentiated. the efficiency reached in specialization is higher than that of direct action and of low levels of labor division. with each new specialization of a mediating element, humans constitute a body of practical knowledge, in the form of experience, that can be used again and again. this body of knowledge reflects the complexity of the task and the scale in which it is exercised. for instance, stones (the latin calcula) were used to represent quantities (just as the early english used stone as a measure of weight). over the centuries, this practice led to the body of knowledge known as calculus and to coherent applications in various human endeavors. the physical presence of stones gave way to easier methods of calculation: the abacus, as well as to marks recorded on bone, shell, leather, and paper, to a number system, and to symbols for numbers. the vector of change starts at the materiality and heads towards the abstract-that is, from objects to signs. computers were invented as a tool for calculation, as well as for other activities. they are the result of the labor of philosophers, logicians, mathematicians, and finally technologists, who changed calculation from a physical to a cognitive practical experience. boolean logic, binary numbers, and electronic gates are mediating elements that enhance the effectiveness of calculation by high orders of magnitude. as things stand today, computer technology has led to myriad specialties: design and production of chips; information processing at various levels; manufacture of components and their integration as machines; networking; visualization techniques; the creation of machine languages for rendering the illiterate input, and on and on. this development exemplifies the active character of each mediation, especially the open- endedness of the mediation process. as an insertion, mediation proves powerful also in terms of the cognitive awareness it stimulates. through mediating elements, such as signs, language, tools, and even ideas, the individual gets a different perspective on the practical experience. the distance introduced through mediation, between actions and results, is one of space-the lever, not the hand, touches the stone to be moved-and duration-the time it takes to execute an action. with each inserted third, i.e., with each mediation, seeds are planted for what will eventually result in a totally new category of practical experiences: the conception of plans. the power of insertion is actually that of acquiring a sense and a direction for the future. myth as mediating pre-text among the mediating elements mentioned so far, language performs its role in a particular way. tools (such as pulleys, levers, gears, etc.) extend the arms or the legs, that is, the human body; language extends the coordinating capability of humans. words, no matter how well articulated, will not turn the stone or lift the trunk of the fallen tree. they can be used to describe the problem, to enlist help, to discuss how the task can be accomplished, to render intelligible the sequence of accomplishing it. once writing was developed, coordination was extended to apply from those physically present to people who could read, or to whom a text could be read if one did not have reading skills. language is in extension and succession of the pragmatic phase of immediate and direct appropriation of objects. as leonard bloomfield-probably a bit hasty in his generalization-observed, "...the division of labor (...) is due to language." although different in nature from physical tools, language is instrumental: it is applied on something and embodies characteristics of human beings constituted in a practical experience that made language possible and necessary. the mediating nature of early words and early articulated thoughts derived from their practical condition: medium for self-constitution (the voice externalizes the anatomy pertinent to producing and hearing sounds), and medium of exchange of experience (pertinent to nature or to others in the group). early words are a record of the self-awareness of the human, denoting body parts and elementary actions. they also reflect the relational nature of the practical experience of those constituting viable groups. researchers infer this from words, identified in proto-languages, that point to an other, or to coalitions, or to danger. what distinguished words from animal sounds was their coherence in extending the practical experience of appropriating a uniform survival strategy. cave paintings, always regarded as a sequence of animal representations, constitute what can be called a coherent image of a small universe of human life. they are an inventory of a sort-of fauna as opposed to humans, and as a reference to animals different from humans-and a statement regarding the importance of each kind of animal to human beings. by relating animals and drawings of man and woman, they also show that there is a third element to be considered: incipient implied symbolism. this is not to say that we have language, even less a visual language, articulated in the paleolithic. but at lascaux, niaux, altamira, and at the caves in northern china, in images preserved in the caves along the lena river in russia, there are some patterns, such as the co-presence of bison and horses, and the hinted association with male and female, for example, which show that the visual can go beyond the immediate and suggest a frame of work with mytho-magical elements. indeed, myths are singular mediating entities. they convey experience and preserve it in oral societies. magic is also a mediating element, metaphysical in nature. magic, in the pre-literacy context, inserts, between humans and everything they cannot understand, control, or tame, something (actions, words, objects) that stands for the practical implications of this failure. an amulet, for example, stands for the lack of understanding of what it takes to be protected from evil forces. spells and gestures intended to scare away demons belong to the same phenomenon. though not without purpose, magic is action with no immediate practical purpose, triggered by events language could not account for. myth is a pre-text for action with a practical, experiential purpose. each myth contains rules for successful activity. the context in which language, as a complex sign system, was structured was also the context of social mediation: division of social functions and integration in a cohesive social structure. in syncretic forms of social life, with low efficiency, and limited self-consciousness, there is little need for or possibility of mediation. once human nature was constituted in the reality of practical, mytho-magical relations, both labor division and mediation became part of the new human experience. tools for plowing, processing skins, and sharing experience (in visual or verbal form) kept the human subject close to the object of work or human relation. it is probably more in respect to the unknown and unpredictable that mediation, via priests and shamans in various rituals, was used in forms of magical practice. cave paintings, no less than cuneiform, and later phonetic writing, constituted intermediaries inserted in the world in which human beings asserted their presence or questioned the presence of others. the centralized state, which is a late form of social organization, the church, and schools are all expressions of the same need to introduce in a world of differences elements with uniformizing and integrating power. what we today call politics simply belongs to the self-constitution of the individual as member of the politeia, the community. by extension, politics means to effectively participate in the life of the community. the nature of this participation changed enormously over time. it started as participation in magic and ritual, and it evolved in participation in symbolic forms, such as mancipatio, conventions embodied in normative acts. in the framework of participation, we can mention goal determination and forms of organization and representation, as well as the payment of taxes to support the mediators of this activity. at the beginning, participation was an issue of survival; and survival, of natural condition, remained the unwritten rule of social life for a very long time. while in oral language there is no mediating element to preserve the good and the right, in written language, law mediates and justice, as much as god (actually a plurality of gods and goddesses) or wisdom, are inserted in community affairs. differentiation and coordination mediation also implies breaking the immediate connection, to escape the domination of the present-shared time and space-and to discover relations characteristic of adjacency, i.e., neighboring in time and space. adjacency can be in respect to the past, as expressed through the practice of keeping burial records. it can also be in respect to the future. the magic dimension of the ritual focused on desired things-weather, game, children-exemplifies this aspect. the notion of adjacency can pertain also to neighboring territories, inhabited by others involved in similar or slightly different practical forms of experience. regardless of the type of adjacency, what is significant is the element that separates the immediate from the mediated. the expanding horizon of life required means to assimilate adjacency in the experience of continuous human self-constitution. language was among such means and became even more effective when a medium for storing and disseminating-writing-was established. in orality-dominated social life, opinion was the product of language activity, and it had to be immediate. in writing, truth was sought and preserved. accordingly, logic centered around the true-false distinction. literate societies are societies which accept the value of speaking, writing, and reading, and which operate under the assumption that literacy can accomplish a unifying function. mediation and the associated strategy of integration relied on language for differentiation of tasks and for coordination of resulting activities and products. language projects both a sense of belonging to and living in a context of life. it embodies characteristics of the individuals sharing perceptions of space and time integrated in their practical experiences and expressed in vocabulary, grammar, and idioms, and in the logic that language houses. language is simultaneously a medium of uniformity and a means of differentiation. within continuously constituted language, individual expression and various non-standard uses of language (literary and poetic, probably the most notorious of these) are a fact of life. in the practical constitution of language for religious or judicial purposes, or in order to give historic accounts of scientific phenomena, expression is not uniform. neither is interpretation. as we know from early attempts at history, there is little difference between languages used to describe relations of ownership (of animals, land, shelter) and texts on astronomy or navigation, for instance. the lunar calendar and the practical experience of navigation determined the coherence of writings on the subject. there is very little difference in the work of people who accounted for numbers of animals and numbers of stars. once differentiation of work took place, language allowed for expressions of differences. behind this change of language is the change of the people involved in various aspects of social life, i.e., their projection into a world appropriated through practical experiences based on the human ability to differentiate-between useful and harmful, pleasant and unpleasant, similar and dissimilar. in order to distinguish the level at which a language is practiced, people become aware of language's practical consequences, of its pragmatic context. plato's dialogues can be read as poetry, as philosophy, or as testimony to the state of language-based practical experiences in use at the time and place in which he was active. what is not clear is how a person operating in and constituting himself in the language identifies the level of an oral or written text, and how the person interprets it according to the context in which it was written. the question is of more than marginal importance to our understanding of how plato related to language or how people today relate to language: either by overstating its importance or by ignoring it to the extent of consciously discarding language, or certain aspects of it. here is where the issue of mediation becomes critical. the inserted third- person, text, image, theory-should understand both the language of the reader and the language of the text. more generally, the third should at any instance understand the language of the entities it mediates between. states, as political entities, are constituted on this assumption; so are legal systems, religion, and education. each such mediating entity introduces elements into the social structure that will finally be expressed in language and assimilated as accepted value. they will become the norm. the process is sometimes extremely tight. retroaction from mediating function to language and back to action entails progressive fine-tuning, never-ending in fact, since human beings are in continuous biological and social change. mediations lead to segmentation. the coordination of mediations is necessary in order to recover the integrality (wholeness) of the human being in the output of the practical experience. mediations, although coordinated by language or other mediating means, and subject to integration in the outcome of activity, introduce elements of tension, which in turn require new mediation and thus progressive specialization. when the sequence of mediations expands, the complexity of integration can easily exceed the degree of complexity of the initial task. the efficiency reached is higher than that of direct action or of low levels of labor division. with each new mediation, the human being constitutes a body of practical knowledge that can be used again and again. the necessary integrative dimension of mediations makes the strategy of using mediating entities, along with the appropriate coordination mechanism, socially relevant and economically rewarding. one can speak of mediation between rational and emotional aspects of human life, between thought and language, language and images, thought and means of expression, communication and signification. regardless of its particular aspect, mediation is an experience of cognitive leverage. integration and coordination revisited from the entire subject of mediation, two questions seem more relevant to our understanding of literacy and of its dynamics: . why, at a certain moment in human evolution, does literacy become the main mediating instrument? . under which circumstances is language's mediating function assumed by other sign systems? let us answer the questions in the order they are posed. language is not the only mediating instrument people use. in the short account given so far, other mediating entities, such as images, movements, odors, gestures, objects (stones, twigs, bones, artifacts) were mentioned. also mentioned was the fact that these are quite close to what they actually refer to (as indexical signs), or to what they depict based on a relation of similarity (as iconic signs). however, even at this level of reduced generality and limited coherence and consistency, human beings can express themselves beyond the immediate and direct. the cave paintings of the paleolithic age should be mentioned again in this respect. the immediate is the cave itself. it is shelter, and its physical characteristics are perceived in direct relation to its function. the surprise comes in noticing how these characteristics become part of the practical experience of sharing what is not present by involving a mediating element. the drawings are completions, continuations, extensions of the ridges of the stone walls of the cave. this is not a way of speaking. a better quality photograph, not to mention the actual drawings in the caves, reveals how the lines of the relief are extended into the drawing and made part of them. the first layer of exchange of information among people is comparison, focused on similarities, then on differences. we infer from here that, before drawing-a practical experience involving a major cognitive step-the human beings seeking shelter in the cave noticed how a certain natural configuration-cloud, plant, rock formation, the trail left by erosion-looked like the head or tail of an animal, or like the human head, for example. the completion of this look-alike form-when such a completion was physically possible-was an instance of practical self-definition and of shared experience. when the act of completion was physically performed, probably by accident at the beginning, the immediate natural (the cave) was appropriated for a new function, something other than merely shelter. the shape of the wings of galleries in the altamira or niaux caves suggests analogies to the male-female distinction, a sexual identifier but also a first step towards distinctions based on perceived differences. the selection of a certain cave from among others was the result of an effort, no matter how primitive, to express. together, this selected physical structure and the added elements became a statement regarding a very limited universe of existence and its shared distinctions. further on, the animals depicted, the sequence, the addition of mytho-magical signs (identification of more general notions such as hand, wound, or different animals) make the painted cave an expression of an inserted thought about the world, that is, about the limited environment constituting the world. in the case of egyptian pictographic writing, we know that images were used as mediating devices in such sophisticated instances as the burial of pharaohs and in their life after death. in the universe of ideographic languages (such as chinese and japanese), the mediating function of images constituting the written is different. combinations of ideograms constitute new ideograms. accordingly, self-constitution in language takes over experiences of combining different things in order to obtain something different from each of the combined ingredients. in some ways, the added efficiency facilitated by mediations was augmented by formal qualities that would eventually establish the realm of aesthetic practical experiences. this should come as no surprise, since we know from many practical experiences or the remote past that formal qualities often translate into higher functionality. language use, which opened access to generality and abstraction, allowed humans to insert elements supporting an optimized exchange of information in the structure of social relations, and to participate in the conventions of social life. there is not only the trace of the immediate experience in a word, there is also the shared convention of mediated interactions. language, in its development over time, is thus a very difficult-to-decode dynamic history of common praxis. we understand this from the way the use of the ax, millstone, or animal sacrifice expanded, along with the appropriate vocabulary and linguistic expression, from the universe of the semites to the indo-europeans. reconstructed vocabulary from the region of the hittite kingdom testifies to the landscape (there are many words for mountains), to trees (the hittites distinguished various species), to animals (leopard, lion, monkey), and to tools (wheel- based means of transportation). language is not only a reflection of the past, but also a program for future work. the nuclei of agriculture where language emerged (in china, africa, southeastern europe) were also centers of dissemination of practical experience. writing, even when it only records the past, does it for the future. progress in writing resulted in better histories, but moreover in new avenues for future praxis. in the ideal of literacy, the individual states a program of unifying scope in a social reality of diverse means and diverse goals. literacy as such is an insertion between a rather complex social structure, nature, and among the members of society. within a culture, it is a generic code which facilitates dialogue among the members of the literate community and among communities of different languages. its scope is multidimensional. its condition is one of mediation. a major mediating element in the rationale of industrial society, literacy fulfilled the function of a coordinating mechanism for mediations made otherwise than through language, along the assembly line, for instance. obviously conceived on the linear, sequential model of time and language, the assembly line optimally embodied requirements characteristic of complex integration. once the reductionist practice of dividing work into smaller, specialized activities became necessary, the results of these activities had to be integrated in the final product. at the level of technology of industrial society, literacy-based human practical experiences of self-constitution defined the scope and character of labor division, specialization, integration, and coordination. life after literacy the answer to the second question posed a few pages back is not an exercise in prophecy. (i'll leave that to the priests of futurology.) this is why the question concerns circumstances under which the dominant mediating function of language can be assumed by other sign systems. the discussion involves a moving target because today the notion of literacy is a changing representation of expectations and requirements. we know that there is a before to literacy; and this before pertains to mediations closer to the natural human condition. of course, we can, and should, ask whether there is an after, and what its characteristics might be. complexities of human activity and the need to ensure higher efficiency explain, at least partially, complexities of interhuman relations and the need to ensure some form of human integration. what this first assessment somehow misses is the fact that, from a certain moment on, mediation becomes an activity in itself. means become an end in themselves. when individuals constituted themselves in structurally very similar experiences, mediation took place through the insertion of rather homogeneous objects, such as arrows, bows, levers, and tools for cutting and piercing. interaction was a matter of co-presence. language resulted in the context of diversification of practical human experiences. self-constitution in language captured the permanence and the perspective of the whole into which variously mediated components usually come together. later on, literacy freed humans from the requirement of co-presence. language's mediating capabilities relied on space and time conventions built into language experience over a very long time and interiorized by literate societies. characteristics of writing specific to different notational systems resulted from characteristics of practical experiences. literacy only indirectly reflects the encoding of experience in a medium of expression and communication. moreover, the shift from a literacy-dominated civilization to one of partial literacies involves the encoding of the experience in media that are no longer appropriate for literate expression. we write to tape or to digital storage. we publish on networks. we convert texts into machine- readable formats. we edit in non-linear fashion. we operate on configurations or on mixed data types (that constitute multimedia). experiences encoded in such media reflect their own characteristics in what is expressed and how it is expressed. although there are vast qualitative differences in linguistic performance within a literate society, a common denominator-the language reified in the technology of literacy-is established. the expectation is a minimum of competence, supposed to meet integration requirements at the workplace, the understanding of religion, politics, literature, and the ability to communicate and comprehend communication. but as literacy became a socially desirable characteristic, language became a tool-at least in some professions and trades-and the command of language became a marketable skill. for example, during periods of greater political activity in classical greece and rome, the practical experience of rhetoric was a discipline in itself. orators, skilled in persuasion, for which language is necessary, made a career out of language use. the written texts of the middle ages were also intended to foster the rhetorical skills of the clergy in presenting arguments. in our time, speechwriters and ghostwriters have become the language professionals, and so have priests, prophets, and evangelists (of all religions). but what is only an example of how language can become an end in itself has become a very significant development in human praxis. not only in professions such as expository writing (for journalists, essayists, politicians, and scientists), poetry, fiction, dramaturgy, communications, but also in the practice of law (normative, enforcement, judicial), politics, economics, sociology, and psychology has language become a principal tool. nevertheless, the language used in such endeavors is not the standard, national, or regional language, but a specialized subset, marginally understood by the literate population at large. while the grammar governing such sub- languages is, with some exceptions, the grammar of the language from which they are derived, the vocabulary is more appropriate to the subject matter. moreover, while sharing language conventions and the general frame of language, these sub-languages project an experience so particular that it cannot be properly understood and interpreted without some translation and commentary. and each commentary (on a law, a new scientific theory, a work of art or poetry) is yet another insertion of a third, which refers to the initial object sometimes so indirectly that the relation might be difficult to track and the meaning is lost. a similar process can be identified in our present relation to the physical environment. many things mediate between us and the natural environment: our homes, clothes, the food processing industry. even natural artifacts, such as gardens, lakes, or water channels, are a buffer against nature, an insertion between us and nature. constituted in our language are experiences of survival and adaptation: the vocabulary of hunting, fishing, agriculture, animal husbandry, coping with changes in weather and climate, and coping with natural catastrophes such as floods and earthquakes. the mediating function of language is different here than on the production line. mediated practice leads to distributed knowledge along successive or parallel mediations that are not at all literacy-based or literacy-dependent. within the global scale of human experience, it makes sense to use a global perspective (of resources, factors affecting agriculture, navigation, etc.) in order to maximize locally distributed efforts. for example: people involved in various activities must rely on persons specialized to infer from observation (of plants, trees, animals, water levels in rivers and lakes, wind direction, changes in the earth's surface, biological, chemical, atmospheric factors) and generate predictions regarding natural events (drought, plant or animal disease, floods, weather patterns, earthquakes). what we acknowledge here is the new scale of the practical experience of meteorology, as well as methods of collecting and distributing information through vast networks of radio, television, and weather services. both the means for acquiring the information and for disseminating it are visual. local networks subscribe to the service and receive computer-generated maps on which clouds, rain, or snow are graphically depicted. the equations of weather forecasting are obviously different from local observations of wind direction, precipitation, dew point, etc. the chaotic component captured and the necessity to visually display information as it changes over time are not reducible to equations or direct observation. it is hard to imagine having weather predicted through very mediated meteorological practice, and even harder to imagine forecasting earthquakes or volcanic activity from remote stations, such as satellites. still, weather patterns display dynamic characteristics that made the metaphor of the butterfly causing a hurricane the most descriptive explanation of how small changes-caused by the flapping of the butterfly's wings-can result in impressive consequences-the hurricane. the language of the forecast only translates into common language the data (the majority in visual form) that represents our new understanding of natural phenomena. there is yet another aspect, which is related to the status of knowledge and our ways of acquiring, transmitting, and testing it. our knowledge of phenomena such as nuclear fusion, thermonuclear reaction, stellar explosions, genes and genetic codes, and complex dynamic systems is no longer predominantly based on inductions from observed facts to theories explaining such facts. it seems that we project theories, founded on abstract thinking, onto physical reality and turn these theories into means of adapting the world to our goals or needs, which are much more complex than survival. memetics is but the more recent example in this respect. it projects the abstract models of natural evolution into culture, focusing on replicative processes for the production of phenomena such as ideas, behavioral rules, ways of thinking, beliefs, and norms. mediation probably qualifies for a memetic approach, too. theories require a medium of expression, and this is represented by new languages, such as mathematical and logical formalisms, chemical notation, computer graphics, or discourse in some pseudo- language. the formalism of memetics reminds many of us of formal languages, as well as of the shorthand used in genetics. the goal is to describe whatever we want to describe through computational functions or through computable expressions. since experiential space and time are housed in our language, we can account for only a three-dimensional space and a homogeneous time that has only one direction-from past to future. nevertheless, we can conceive of multidimensional spaces and of non-homogeneous time. to describe the same in language, especially through literate expression, is not only inadequate, but also raises obstacles. with the advent of digital technology, a language of two letters-zero and one-and the grammar of boolean logic, we have stepped into a new age of language, no longer the exclusive domain of the human being. such a language introduces new levels of mediation, which allow for the use of machines by means of sentences, i.e., sequences of encoded commands triggered by a text written in a language other than natural language. physical contact is substituted by language, inserted in processes of complexity impossible to control directly or even to relate to in forms characteristic of previous scientific and technological praxis. indeed, there are instances when the speed of a process and the requirement of sequencing make direct human control not only impossible, but also undesirable. this mediation is then continued by sequences automatically generated by machines, i.e., mediation generating new mediation. although the structure of all these new languages (which describe phenomena, support programming, or control processes) is inspired by the structure of natural language, they project experiences which are not possible in the universe of standard language. new forms of interaction, higher speeds, and higher precision become available when such powerful cognitive tools are designed as custom-made instruments for advancing our understanding of phenomena that evade analytic or even small-scale synthetic frameworks. the discussion of mediation brought up other sign systems that assume the mediating function characteristic of literacy. not only artificial languages-instruments of knowledge and action, new pragmatic dimensions, in fact-but also natural languages are increasingly used in a mediating capacity. i would submit to the reader the observation that the visual, primarily, and other sensory information are recuperated and used in ways that change human experience. where words no longer suffice, visualized images of the unseen constitute a mediating language, allowing us to understand phenomena otherwise inaccessible-the micro- or remote universe, for instance. touch, smell, and sound can be articulated and introduced as statements in a series of events for which written and spoken language are no longer adequate. virtual reality is synthesized as a valid simulation of real reality. virtual realities can be experienced if we simply put on body-sensitive gloves, headgear (goggles and earphones), special footwear, or a whole suit. powerful computer graphics, with a refresh rate high enough to maintain the illusion of space and motion, make a virtual space available. within this space, one's own image can become a partner of dialogue or confrontation. journeys outside one's body and inside one's imagination are experienced not only in advanced laboratories, but also in the new entertainment centers that appeal to children as well as adults. such projections of oneself into something else represent one of the most intriguing forms of interaction in the networked world. the experience of self-constitution as an avatar on the internet is no longer one of a unique self, but of multiples. language guards the entrance to the experience, but once the human subject is inside, it has only limited power or significance. mediations other than through language dominate here, invoking all our senses and deep levels of our existence, for which literacy produced only psychoanalytic rhetoric. in other words, we notice that while language constituted a projection of the human being in the conventions of abstract systems of expression, representation, and communication, it also exercised an impoverishing function in that it excluded the wealth of senses-possibly including common sense-and the signs addressing them. language made of us one monolithic entity. in the meantime, we have come to realize that the transitions between our many inner states can be a source of new experiences. the answer to the question regarding alternatives to literacy is that part of the mediating function of language has extended to specialized languages, and to sign systems other than verbal language, when those systems are better adapted to the complexities of heretofore unencountered challenges. virtual reality is not a linear reality but an integrating, interacting reality of non-linear relations between what we do and what results. among these newly acquired, different mediating entities, relations and interdependencies are continuously established and changed at an ever faster pace. it appears that once human activity moves from the predominantly object level to the meta condition (one of self-awareness and self-interpretation), we have several languages and several contingent literacies instead of a dominant language and dominant literacy. when writing is replaced by multimedia along the communication channels of the networked world, we seem to enjoy rediscovering ourselves as much richer entities than we knew or were told about through literate mediation. the entire transition is the result of pragmatic needs resulting from the fundamental change in continuous human self-constitution and the scale in which it is exercised. mediations break activities into segments that are more intensive and shorter than the cycle from which they were extracted. therefore, mediation results in the perception of the reality of faster rhythms and of time contraction. massive distribution of tasks, finer levels of parallelism, and more sophisticated integrating and coordinating mechanisms, result in new pragmatic possibilities, for which literacy is not suitable, and even counter-productive. this entire transition comprises another vector of change: from individual to communal survival, from direct work to highly mediated praxes, from local to global to universal, from the visible to the invisible of macro and micro-universe, from the real to the virtual. mediation, in its newest digital forms of enmeshed nature and evolving culture, causes boundaries to disappear between the elements involved in practical experiences of our self-constitution. literacy, language and market markets are mediating machines. in our time, the notion of a machine is very different from that of the industrial machine age associated with the pragmatics of the civilization of literacy. today, the term machine is evocative of software rather than hardware. machine comprises input and output, process, control mechanisms, and the expectation of predictable functioning. here is where our difficulties start. at best, markets appear as erratic to us. market prediction seems to be an oxymoron. every time experts come up with a formula, the market acts in a totally new manner. an amazing number of transactions, ranging from bargaining at a garage sale to multi-prong deals in derivatives, continuously subject the outcome of practical experiences of human self-constitution to the test of market efficiency. there is nothing that can escape this test: ideas, products, individuals, art, sports, entertainment. like a tadpole, the market seems to consume itself in transactions. at times, they appear so esoteric to us that we cannot even fathom what the input of this machine is and what the output. but we all expect the charming prince to emerge from the ugly frog! what can be said, without giving away the end of the story too early, is that the functioning of this growing mechanism of human self-evaluation could never take place at its current dynamics and size in the pragmatic framework of literacy. all over the world, market processes associated with previous pragmatic frameworks-barter is one of them-are relived in bazaars and shopping malls. but if anyone wants to see practical experiences of the civilization of illiteracy unfolding in their quasi-pure manner, one has only to look at the stock market and commodities exchanges and auctions conducted over the internet. moreover, one must try to envision those invisible, distributed, networked transactions in which it is impossible to define who initiated a transaction, continued another one, or brought a deal to an end, and based on what criteria. they, too, seem to have a life of their own. mediating machine also evokes the notion of machine as program. although some stockbrokers have second thoughts about how their role is diminished through the mediation of entities that cannot speak or write, programmed trading on the various stock exchanges is a matter of course. computational economists and market researchers, who design programs based on biological analogies, genetics, and dynamic system models, can testify to the truth of this statement. preliminaries in viewing the market in its relation to the civilization of literacy, and that of illiteracy, we must first establish a conceptual frame of reference for discussing the specific role of language as a mediating element characteristic of the market. in particular, we should examine the functions filled by literacy in allowing people to diversify markets and make them more effective. when the limits of literacy's mediating capabilities are reached, its efficiency becomes subject to doubt. this does not happen outside the market, as some scholars, educators, and politicians would have us believe, or want to happen. it is within the market that this stage is acknowledged, rendering intellectual travail itself a product negotiated in the market, as literacy itself already is. to establish the desired conceptual frame of reference, i take the perspective of market as a sign process through which people constitute themselves. consequently, transactions can be seen as extensions of human biology: products of our work embody the structural characteristics of our natural endowment and address needs and expectations pertinent to these characteristics. these products are extensions of our personality and our culture, as constituted in expectations and values characteristic of the human species becoming self-aware and defining goals for the future. with language, and more so with literacy, markets become interpretive affairs, projective instantiations of what we are, in the process of becoming what we must be as the human scale reaches yet another threshold. human self-constitution through markets reflects attained levels of productive and creative power, as well as goals pertinent initially to survival, later to levels of well-being, and now to the complexity of the global scale of current and future human activity. from barter to the trading of commodities futures and stock options, from money to the cashless society, markets constitute frameworks for higher transaction efficiency, often equated with profit. the broad arguments, such as the market as semiosis, often stumble upon specific aspects: semiosis or not, practical experience or not, how come a rumor sends a company's stock into turmoil while an audited report goes unnoticed? the hidden structure of the processes discussed throughout this book might have more to do with explanations and predictive models than the many clarifications empowered by academic aura. products 'r' us the reality of the human being as sign-using animal (zoon semiotikon) corresponds to the fact that we project our individual reality into the reality of our existence through semiotic means. in the market, the three entities of sign processes meet: that which represents (representamen), that which is represented (object), and the process of interpretation (interpretant). these terms can be defined in the market context. the representamen is the repertory of signs that are identified in the market. these can be utility (usefulness of a certain product), rarity, quantity, type of material used to process the merchandise, imagination applied to the conception and creation of a product, and the technology used and the energy consumed in the manufacturing process, for example. people can be attracted by the most unexpected characteristics of merchandise, and can be enticed to develop addictions to color, form, brand name, odor. sometimes the representamen is price, which is supposed to reflect the elements listed above, as well as other pricing criteria: a trend, a product's sexiness; a buyer's gullibility, ego, or lack of economic sense. the price represents the product, although not always appropriately. the object is the product itself, be it a manufactured item, an idea, an action, a process, a business, or an index. except for the market based on exchange of object for object, every known market object is represented by some of its characteristics. that these representations might be far removed from the object only goes to show how many mediating entities participate in the market. nothing is a sign unless interpreted as a sign. someone has to be able to conjure, or endow, meaning and constitute something (an idea, object, or action) as part of one's self-constitution. this is the interpretant-understood as process, because interpretations can go on ad infinitum. for example: bread is food; an academic title acknowledges that a course of study was successfully completed; computers can be used as better typewriters or for data mining. as a sign, bread can stand for everything that it embodies: our daily bread; a certain culture of nourishment; the knowledge involved in cultivating and processing grain, in making dough, building the ovens, observing the baking process. symbolic interpretation, relating to myth or religion, is also part of the interpretation of bread as a sign. interpretation of an academic title follows a similar path: educational background (university attended, title conferred), context (there are streets on which mostly lawyers and doctors live), function (how the title affects one's activity), and future expectations (a prospective nobel prize winner). likewise with computers: intel inside, or netscape browser, networked or stand-alone, a big blue product, or one put together in the back alleys of some far eastern country. according to the premise that nothing is a sign unless considered as such, interpretation is equivalent to the constitution of human beings as the sign, represented through their product. a product is read as being useful; a product can be liked or disliked; a product can generate needs and expectations. self-constituting individuals validate themselves (succeed or fail) through their activity as represented by the product of this activity, be it tangible or intangible, a concrete object, a process (mediations are included here), an idea. these readings are also part of the process of interpretation. a conglomerate of the readings mentioned above is the mug shot of the abstract consumer, behind whom are all the others who constitute their individuality through the transactions that make up the market. a used car or computer salesman, a small retailer, and a university professor identify themselves in different ways in and through the market. each is represented by some characteristic feature of his or her work. each is interpreted in the market as reliable, competent, or creative in view of the pragmatics of the transaction: some people need a good used car, some a cheap, used computer, others a leather wallet, others an education or counsel. the forms of interpretation in the market are diverse and range from simple observation of the market to direct involvement in market mechanisms through products, exchange of goods, or legislation. as a place where the three elements-what is marketed (object), language or signs of marketing (representamen), and interpretation (leading to a transaction or not)-come together, the market can be direct or mediated, real or symbolic, closed or open, free or regulated. a produce market, a supermarket, a factory outlet, and a shopping mall are examples of real market space. the market takes on mediated, conventional, and symbolic aspects in the case where, for example, the product is not displayed in its three-dimensional reality but substituted by an image, a description, or a promise. mail-order houses, and the stock and futures markets belong here, even though they are derived from direct, real markets. once upon a time, wall street was surrounded by various exchanges filled with the odors, tastes, and textures of the products brought in by ships. it is now a battery of machines and traders who read signs on order slips or computer screens but know nothing of the product that is traded. in our day, the stock market has become a data processing center. pressures caused by the demand for optimal market efficiency were behind this transformation. nevertheless, the time involved in the new market semiosis is as real and necessary as the time of transactions in the market based on barter or on direct negotiations; that is, only the amount of time needed to ensure the cooperation of the three elements mentioned above, as human beings constitute themselves in the pragmatic context of the market. the pragmatic context affects market cycles and the speed at which market transactions take place. this is why a deal in a bazaar takes quite a bit of time, and digital transactions triggered by programmed trading are complete before anyone realizes their consequences. market regulations always affect the dynamics of mediations. the language of the market language signs and other signs are mediating devices between the object represented in the market and the interpretant-the human beings constituting themselves in the process of interpretation, including satisfaction of their needs and desires. no matter what type of market we refer to, it is a place and time of mediations. what defines each of the known markets (barter, farmers' markets and fairs, highly regulated markets, so-called free markets, underground markets) is the type of mediation more than the merchandise or the production process. of significance is the dynamic structure involved. it is obvious that if anything anticipated our current experience of the market, it was the ritual. objects (things, money, ideas, process), the language used to express the object, and the interpretation, leading or not to a transaction, constitute the structural invariable in every type of socio-economic environment. in the so-called free market (more an abstraction than a reality) and in rigidly planned economies, the relation among the three elements is the variable, not the elements themselves. interpretation in a given context can be influenced in the way associations are made between the merchandise and its representations. the history of language is rich in testimony to commerce, from the very simple to the very complex forms of the latter. language captures ownership characteristics, variations in exchange rates, the ever-expanding horizon of life facilitated through market transactions. it is within this framework that written records appear, thus justifying the idea that, together with practical experiences of human self-constitution, market processes characteristic of a limited scale of exchange of values are parents to notation, to writing and to literacy. expectations of efficiency are instantiated, within a given scale of human activity, in market quantities and qualities. nobody really calculates whether rice production covers the needs of humankind at any given instance, or if enough entertainment is produced for the billions living on earth today. the immense complexity of the market machine is reflected in its dynamics, which at a certain level of its evolution could no longer be handled by, or made subject to the rules and expectations of literacy. market processes follow a pattern of self-organization under the guise of many parameters, some of which we can control, others that escape our direct influence upon them. languages of extreme specialization are part of market dynamics in the sense that they offer practical contexts for new types of transactions. netconomy started as a buzzword, joining net, network, and economy. in less than one year, the term was used to describe a distributed commercial environment where extremely efficient transactions make up an increasing part of the global economy. but the consequences of the netconomy are also local: distribution channels can be eliminated, with the effect of accelerating commercial cycles and lowering prices. computers, cars, software, and legal services are more frequently acquired through the virtual shops of the netconomy. to see how the practical experience of the market freed itself from language and literacy, let us now examine the market process as semiosis in its various aspects. as already stated, in trading products, people trade themselves. various qualities of the product (color, smell, texture, style, design, etc.), as well as qualities of its presentation (advertising, packaging, vicinity to other products, etc.), and associated characteristics (prestige, ideology) are among the implicit components of this trade. sometimes the object per se-a new dress, a tool, wine, a home-is less important than the image it projects. secondary functions, such as aesthetics, pleasure, conformity, override the function of fulfilling needs. in market semiosis, desire proves to be just as important, if not more so, than need. in a large part of the world, self-constitution is no longer just a question of survival, but also one of pleasure. the higher the semiotic level of the market in a context of decadent plenty-the number of sign systems involved, their extent and variety-the more obvious the deviations from the rule of merely satisfying needs. human activity that aims at maintaining life is very different from the human activity that results in surplus and availability for market transaction. in the first case, a subsistence level is preserved; in the second, new levels of self-constitution are made possible. surplus and exchange, initially made possible through the practical experience of agriculture, constituted a scale of human activity that required human constitution in signs, sign systems, and finally language. surplus can be used in many ways, for which sign and later language differentiation became progressively necessary. rituals, adornment, war, religion, means of accumulation, and means of persuasion are examples of differentiations. all these uses pertained to settled patterns of human interaction and led to products that were more than mere physical entities to be consumed. to repeat, they were projections of individual self-constitution. behind each product is a cycle of conception, manufacture, and trade, and an attached understanding of utility and permanence. with the advent of writing and reading, from its rudimentary forms to the forms celebrated in literacy, and its participation in the constitution of the market, the avenue was opened towards using what was produced in surplus to cover the need to maintain life, so that more surplus could be generated. the market of merchandise, services, slaves, and ideas was completed by the market of salaried workers, earning money for their life's salt, as roman soldiers did. these belong to the category of human beings constituting themselves in the pragmatic framework of an activity in which production (work) and the means of production separated. the language through which workers constituted themselves underwent a similar differentiation. as work became more alienated from the product, a language of the product also came into being. the language of products exchanging goods pertinent to survival corresponds to a scale of human praxis that guarantees coherence and homogeneity. people who have excess grain but need eggs, people who offer meat because they need fruit or tools, do not require instructions for using what they obtain in exchange for what they offer. small worlds, loosely connected, constitute the universe of their existence. the rather slow rhythm of production cycles equals that of natural cycles. a relatively uniform lifestyle results from complementary practical experiences only slightly differentiated in structure. together, these characteristics constitute a framework of direct sharing of experience. this market, as limited as it is, forms part of the social mechanism for sharing experience. today's markets, defined by a complexity of mediations, are no longer environments of common or shareable experience. rather, they are frameworks of validation of one type of human experience against another. this statement requires some explanation. products embody not only material, design, and skills, but also a language of optimal functioning. thus they project a variety of ways through which people constitute themselves through the language of these products. accordingly, the market becomes a place of transaction for the many languages our products speak. the complexity of everything we produce in the pragmatic framework of the civilization of illiteracy is the result of expectations made possible by levels of human efficiency that literacy can only marginally support. this comes at a cost, in addition to the dissolution of literacy: the loss of a sense of quality, because each product carries with itself not only its own language, but also its own evaluation criteria. the product is one of many from which to choose, each embodying its own justification. its value is relative, and sometimes no value at all dictates the urge to buy, or the decision to look for something else. rules of grammar, which gave us a sense of order and quality of literate language use, do not apply to products. previous expectations of morality were anchored in language and conveyed through means of literacy. the morality of partial literacies embodied in competing products no longer appears to participants in the market as emanating from high principles of religion or ethics, but rather as a convenient justification for political influence. through regulation, politics inserts itself as a self-serving factor in market transactions. transaction and literacy a visit to a small neighborhood store used to be primarily a way of satisfying a particular need, but also an instance of communication. such small markets were spaces where members of the community exchanged news and gossip, usually with an accuracy that would put today's journalism to shame. the supermarket is a place where the demands of space utilization, fast movement of products, and low overhead make conversation counterproductive. mail-order markets and electronic shopping practically do away with dialogue. they operate beyond the need for literacy and human interaction. transactions are brought to a minimum: selection, confirmation, and providing a credit card number, or having it read automatically and validated via a networked service. literacy-based transactions involved all the characteristics of written language and all the implications of reading pertinent to the transaction. literacy contributed to the diversification of needs and to a better expression of desires, thus helping markets to diversify and reach a level of efficiency not possible otherwise. with required education and laws prohibiting child labor, the productive part of people's lives was somehow reduced, but their ability to be more effective within modes adapted to literacy was enhanced. thus market cycles were optimized by the effects of higher productivity and diversified demands. from earliest times (going back to the phoenician traders), writing and the subsequent literacy contributed to strategies of exchange, of taxation- which represents the most direct form of political intervention in the market-and regulations regarding many aspects of the constitution of human beings in and through the market. written contracts expressed expectations in anticipation of literacy- supported planning. there are many levels between the extraction and processing of raw material and the final sale and consumption of a product. at each level, a different language is constituted, very concrete in some instances, very abstract in others. these languages are meant to speed up processing and transaction cycles, reduce risk, maximize profits, and ensure the effectiveness of the transaction on a global level. literacy cannot uniformly accommodate these various expectations. the distributive nature of market transactions cannot be held captive to the centralism of literacy without affecting the efficiency of market mediation. the ruin left after years of central planning in the soviet union and its satellite countries-highly literate societies-is proof of this point. the expected speed of market processes and the parallelism of negotiations require languages of optimal functionality and minimal ambiguity. sometimes transactions have to rely on visual arguments, well beyond what teleconferencing can offer. products and procedures are modified during negotiations, and on-the-fly, through interactive links between all parties involved in the effort of designing, manufacturing, and marketing them. as fashion shows become prohibitively expensive, the fashion market is exploring interactive presentations that put the talent of the designer and the desire of the public one click away from each other. the expectation of freedom results in the need to ignore national or political (and cultural and religious) allegiances, which, after all, means freedom from the literate mode of a national language, as well as from all the representations and definitions of freedom housed in literate discourse. indeed, since sign systems, and language in particular, are not neutral means of expression, one individual has to specialize in the signs of other cultures. there are consulting firms that advise businesses on the cultural practices of various countries. they deal in what robert reich called symbol manipulation, semiotic activity par excellence. these firms explain to clients doing business in japan, for instance, that the japanese have a penchant for exchanging gifts. business cards, more symbolic than functional, are of great importance. these consultants will also advise on customs that fall outside values instilled through literacy, such as in which countries bribery is the most efficient way to do business. whose market? whose freedom? a market captive to moral or political concepts expressed in literate discourse soon reaches the limits of its efficiency. we face these limits in a different way when ideals are proclaimed or negotiations submitted to rules reflecting values attached to expectations-of a certain standard of living, fringe benefits-frozen in contracts and laws. many european countries are undergoing the crisis of their literate heritage because outdated working relations have been codified in labor laws. contracts between unions claiming to represent various types of workers are not subject to criteria for efficiency at work in the market. on the other hand, the freedom and rights written into the u.s. constitution are totally forgotten in the global marketplace by people who take them for granted. an american-even a member of a minority group-who buys a pair of brand-name sneakers is totally ignorant of the fact that the women, and sometimes the children, making those sneakers in faraway countries earn less than subsistence wages. it is not the market that is immoral or opportunistic in such cases, but the people who constitute their expectations for the most at the lowest cost. would literacy be a stronger force than the demand for efficiency in bringing about the justice discussed in tomes of literature? to read morality in the market context of competition, where only efficiency and profit are written, is a rather futile exercise, even though it might alleviate pangs of conscience. markets, the expression of the people who constitute them, are realistic, even cynical; they call things by their names and have no mercy on those who try to reinvent an idealized past in the transaction of futures. for reasons of efficiency only, markets are frameworks for the self-constitution of human beings as free, enjoying liberties and rights that add to their productive capabilities. it will probably irk many people to read here that markets, instances of terrible tension and amorality, are the cradle of human freedom, tolerance (political, social, religious, intellectual), and creativity. to a great extent, it was a fight over market processes that led to the american revolution. now that soviet-style communism has fallen, the flow of both goods and ideas is slowly and painfully taking place, in ways similar to that in the west, in the former soviet bloc. democratic ideals and the upward distribution of wealth are on a collision course. but the compass is at least set on more freedom and less regulation. only mainland china remains in the grip of centralized market control. the struggle between open markets and the free flow of ideas going on there today can have only one outcome. it may take time, but china, too, will one day be as free as its neighbors in taiwan. market interaction is what defines human beings, facilitating the establishment of a framework of existence that includes others. some people would prefer a confirmation of culture as the more encompassing framework, containing markets but not reducible to them. culture itself is an object in the market, subjected to transactions involving literacy, but not exclusively. here new languages are used to expedite the exchange of goods and values. when literacy reaches the limits of its implicit capabilities, new transaction languages emerge, and new forms of freedom, tolerance, and creativity are sanctioned through the market mechanism. there is a price attached here, too. new constraints, new types of intolerance, and new obstacles come about. an example is the preservation of wildlife at the expense of jobs. efficiency and wide choice entail a replacement of what are known as traditional values (perceived as eternal, but usually not older than - years) with what many would have a hard time calling value: mediocrity, the transitory, the expedient, and the propensity for waste. the market circumvents literacy when literacy affects its efficiency and follows its own course by means appropriate to new market conditions. in the quest for understanding how markets operate, the further cultivation of explanations originating from previous pragmatic circumstances is pointless. the time-consuming detour might result in nostalgia, but not in better mastery of the complexities implicit in the practical experience of human self-constitution in the market. new markets, new languages with the descriptive model of markets as sign processes, allusion was made to the open character of any transaction. with the discussion regarding the many phases through which markets are constituted, allusion was made to the distributed nature of market processes. in order to further explain the changed condition of human self- constitution in the market of a radically new scale and dynamics, we need to add some details to both characteristics mentioned. like any other sign process, language processes are human processes. the person speaking or writing a text continues to constitute his identity in one or the other, while simultaneously anticipating the constitutive act of listening to or interpreting the potential or intended readership. visual, auditory, tactile, olfactory, verbal, or written expression, as well as combinations of these, which composes the language of performance, dance, architecture, etc., are in the same condition. a viewer or viewers can associate an image with a text, music, odors, textures, or with combinations of these. furthermore, the association can continue and can be conveyed to others who will extend it ad infinitum, sometimes so far that the initial sign (which is the initial person interpreting that sign in anticipation of the interpretation given by others), i.e., the image, text, or music that triggered the process, is forgotten. expanding this concept to the products of human activity, we can certainly look at various artifacts from the perspective of what they express-a need specifically fulfilled by a machine, a product, a type of food or clothing, an industry; what they communicate-the need shared by few or many, the way this need is addressed, what it says about those constituted in the product and those who will confirm their identity by using it, what it says about opportunity and risk taking; andwhat they signify-in terms of the level of knowledge and competence achieved. this is not to say that the milk we buy from a farmer or in the supermarket, the shoes, cars, homes, vacation packages, and shares in a company or options in a stock are all signs or language. rather, they can be interpreted as signs standing for an object (the state of manufacturing, quality of design, competence, or a combination of these) to be interpreted in view of the framework for the pragmatics of human self- constitution that the pragmatics makes possible. there are many instances when a word simply dies on the lips of the speaker because nobody listens or nobody cares to continue interpreting it. there are as many instances when a product dies because it is irrelevant to the pragmatic framework of our lives. there are other instances when signs lose the quality of interpretability. a company that goes public is identified through many qualifiers. its potential growth is one of them-this is why internet-oriented companies were so highly valued in their initial public offerings. potential can be conveyed through literate descriptions, data regarding patents, market analysis, or an intuitive element that there is more to this new market sign than only its name and initial offering price. at a small scale of human experience, the neighbors wanted to own some of the action; at a larger scale, literacy conveyed the information and acted as a co-guarantor. at today's scale, many similar businesses are already in place, others are emerging; supply and demand meet in the marketplace where one's risk can be someone else's gain. literacy is no longer capable of providing the background for the dynamics of change and renewal. if literacy could still control market transactions, netscape-synonymous with the internet browser-would have never made it; nor the companies that develop software facilitating telephone calls via the internet. in the markets of relative homogeneity, language proved to be an appropriate means of coordination. for as long as the various contexts making up today's global market were not as radically different as they are becoming, literacy represented a good compromise. but when market transactions themselves shift from exchanging goods against goods, or the exchange of goods for some universal substitute (gold, silver, precious stones with qualities of permanency), or even for a more conventional unit (money), for more abstract entities, such as the ecu (the basket of currencies of the european community), the eurodollar, or the e-money transacted over networks, literacy is replaced by the literacies of the segmented practical instances of each transaction. shares of an italian or spanish company, futures on the american commodities market, bonds for third world investment funds-they all come with their own rules of transaction, and with their own languages. the specialization that increases market efficiency results in a growing number of literacies. these literacies bring to the market the productive potential of companies and their management value. they encode levels of expected productivity in farming (and a certain wager on weather conditions), entrepreneurial risks assumed within the context of progressive globalization of the economy. in turn, they can be encoded in programs designed to negotiate with other programs. in addition, the mechanisms assuring the distributed nature of the market in the global economy insert other literacies, in this case, the literacy of machines endowed with search and heuristic capabilities independent of literacy. market simulations trigger intelligent trade programs and a variety of intelligent agents, capable of modifying their behavior, and achieve higher and higher transaction performance. in short, we have many mediations against the background of a powerful integrative process: the pragmatic framework of a highly segmented economy, working in shorter production cycles, for a global world. in this process, almost nothing remains sequential, and nothing is centralized. put in different words, almost all market activity takes place in parallel processes. configurations, i.e., changing centers of interest, come into existence on the ever fluid map of negotiations. being a self-organizing nucleus, each deal has its own dynamics. relations among configurational nuclei are also dynamic. everything is distributed. the relations between the elements involved are non-linear and change continuously. solidarity is replaced by competition, often fiercely adversarial. thus the market consumes itself, and the sequels of literacy, requiring provisional and distributed literacies. each time individuals project their identity in a product, the multi-dimensional human experience embodied in the product is made available for exchange with others. in the market, it is reduced to the dimension appropriate to the given context of the transaction. human behavior in the market is symptomatic of the self-awareness of the species, of its critical and self-critical capabilities, of its sense of the future. the progressive increase of the abstract nature of market transactions, the ominous liberation from literacy, and adoption of technologies of efficient exchange define a sense of future which can be quite scary for people raised in a different pragmatic context. we are beyond the disjunctive models of socialist ideologies of bourgeois property, class differences, reproduction of labor power, and similar categories that emerged in the pragmatic framework that made literacy (and human constitution through literacy) possible and necessary. property, as much as markets, is distributed (sometimes in ways that do not conform with our sense of fairness). people define their place in the continuum of a society that in many ways does away with the exceptional and introduces a model based on averaging and resulting in mediocrity. the human being's self-constitutive power is not only reproduced in new instances of practical activity, but also augmented in the pragmatics of surplus creating higher surplus. along with the sense of permanency, humans lose a sense of the exceptional as this applies to their products and the way they constitute themselves through their work. literacy and the transient when a product is offered with a lifetime warranty and the manufacturer goes bankrupt within months from the date of the sales transaction, questions pertaining to ethics, misrepresentation, and advertisement are usually asked. such incidents, to which no one is immune, cannot be discarded since the experience of market transactions is an experience in human values, no matter how relative these are. honesty, respect for truth, respect for the given word, written or not, belong to the civilization of literacy and are expressed in its books. the civilization of illiteracy renders these and all other books senseless. but it would be wrong to suggest that markets of the civilization of illiteracy corrupt everything and that, instead of confirming values, they actually empty values of significance. markets do something else: they integrate expectations into their own mechanisms. in short, they have to live up to expectations not because these were written down, but because markets would otherwise not succeed. how this takes place is a longer story, starting with the example given: what happens to a lifetime warranty when the manufacturer goes bankrupt? the pragmatic framework of human self-constitution in language through the use of the powerful means of literacy is one of stability and progressive growth. the means of production facilitated in this framework are endowed with qualities, physical, first of all, that guarantee permanency. the industrial model is an extension of the model of creation deeply rooted in literacy-dominated human activity. machines were powerful and dominating. they, as well as the products they turned out, lasted much longer than the generation of people who use them. after participating in the complex circumstances that made the industrial revolution possible, literacy was stimulated and supported by it. incandescent lighting, more powerful than the gas or oil lamp, expanded the time available for reading, among other activities. books were printed faster and more cheaply because paper was produced faster and more cheaply, and the printing press was driven by stronger engines. more time was available for study because industrial society discovered that a qualified workforce was more productive once machines become more complicated. all this happened against the background of an obsession with permanency reflected also in the structure of the markets. as opposed to agricultural products, subject to weather and time, industrial products can be accepted on consignment. literacy was a mediating tool here since transactions became less and less homogeneous, and the institution of credit more powerful due to the disparity between production and consumption cycles. the scale of the industrial market corresponded to the scale of industrial economy. industrial markets are optimally served by the sequential nature of literacy and the linearity inherent in its structure. production cycles are long, and one cycle follows the other, like seasons, like letters in a word. remember when new model automobiles came out in october, and only in october? a large manufacturer embodied permanence and so did its product. in this framework, a lifetime warranty reflects a product's promised performance and the language describing this performance. this is no longer the case in the civilization of illiteracy. from the design of the product, to the materials used and principles applied, almost nothing is meant to last beyond a cycle of optimal efficiency. it is not a moral decision, neither is it a devious plan. different expectations are embodied in our products. their life cycle reflects the dynamics of change corresponding to the new scale of human self-constitution, and the obsession with efficiency. products become transient because the cycles of relative uniformity of our self-constitution are shorter. we know that life expectancy has increased, and it may well be that people past the peak of their productive capability will soon represent the majority of the population. nonetheless, the increased level of productivity facilitated by mediating strategies is independent of this change. longer life means presence in more cycles of change (which translates into other changes, such as in education and training, family life). what was once a relatively homogeneous life becomes a succession of shorter periods, some only loosely connected. in comparison to centuries of slow, incremental development, relatively abrupt change testifies to a new human condition. where once literacy was necessary to coordinate the variety of contributions from many people-who projected as much permanency in their products, even if the individuals were more literate in drawing than in writing-new forms of coordination and integration are now in place. the corresponding pragmatics is characterized by intension and distribution, and the products capture the projected sense of change that dominates all human experiences. thus conditions were created for markets of the transient, in which lifetime functioning of ingenious artifacts is promised, because the lifetime meant is as short as the cycle of the entire line. the fact that the manufacturer goes bankrupt is not even surprising since the structural characteristics of the obsession with efficiency results in manufacturing entities that last as long (or as short) as the need for their product, or as long as the functional characteristics of the product satisfy market expectations. this is how expectations are integrated in market mechanisms. since mediation is now exercised through many literacies integrated in the product, it is clear why, together with the exhausted lifetime warranty, we throw away not only manufactured items, but also the literacy (and literacies) embodied in them. each transaction in the transient corresponds to a pragmatics that transforms the faustian promise into an advertising slogan. market, advertisement, literacy first, the indictment: "if i were asked to name the deadliest subversive force within capitalism-the single greatest source of its waning morality-i should without hesitation name advertising." these words belong to a commentator of the ill-reputed supply side economics, robert l. heilbroner, but could have been signed by many sharing in this definition. now comes the apologia: "the historians and archaeologists will one day discover that ads of our times are the richest and most faithful daily reflections that any society ever made of its entire range of activities." mcluhan's words, as familiar as they are, bear the imprint of his original thinking. the issue is not to take sides. whether admired or despised, ignored or enjoyed, advertisement occupies an inordinately important place in our life today. for anyone who went through the history of advertisement, it becomes obvious that the scale of this activity, which is indeed part of the market, has changed radically. it used to be true that only to percent of the investment in advertisement resulted in higher sales or brand recognition. today, the to percent has shrunk to less than percent. but of the percent that impacts the market, percent (or less) results in covering the entire expense of advertisement. such levels of efficiency-and waste, one should add, in full awareness that the notion is relative-are possible only in the civilization of illiteracy. the figures (subject to controversy and multiple interpretation) point to efficiency as much as to the various aspects of the market. our concern with advertisement is not only with how literate (or illiterate) advertisement is, but also with how appropriate literacy means can be to address psychological, ethical, and rational (or irrational) aspects of market transactions. a look at advertisements through the centuries is significant to the role of literacy in society and in the world of merchandising. word-of-mouth advertising and hanging signs outside a business reflect the literacy levels of an age of small-scale market transactions. the advertisements of the end of the th and beginning of the th century exemplify the levels of literacy and the efficiency expected from it for merchandising in the context and scale of that time. the ads contain more text than image and address reason more than the senses. in the age of the magazine and newspaper, advertisers relied on the power of verbal persuasion. honesty or value was not the issue here, only its appearance. the word committed to paper, black on white, had to be simple and true. in europe, advertisement took a different style at this time, but still reflected value. manufacturers engaged many well known artists of the time to design their ads. henri toulouse-lautrec, el lissitzky, and herbert bayer are among the best known. to the highly literate but more artistically inclined europeans of the time, such ads for upscale products and events were more appealing. probably taking their cue from europe, american designers experimented with image advertising after world war ii, and graphic design took off in the usa. with the advent of more powerful visualization media, and based on data from psychology to support its effectiveness, the image began to dominate advertising. as ambiguously as an image can be interpreted, its efficiency in advertising was confirmed in rising sales figures. in the rare cases when literacy is used today, it is usually for its visual impact. in an attempt to relate to the qualities of the black-on-white advertisement of earlier times, mobil started a series of ads in the mid- 's. to those not semiotically aware, the ad was simply text appealing to the reader's reason. literacy rediviva! to people attuned to semiotics, the ad was a powerful visual device. the simple tombstone style evoked relations between literacy and values such as simplicity, honesty, the permanence of the idea, the dominance of reason. the visual convention was actually stronger than the literacy element, used as an alibi in these ads. indeed, the people who hand out the clio awards for advertising were so taken in as to award mobil a first prize for these ads. markets are far from being simple causal phenomena. a market's easy switch from a well structured, rational interpretation and ethical conduit, to irrationality and misrepresentation is revealed in the new forms markets take, as well as in their new techniques for transactions and the associated advertisement. the term irrationality describes a contradiction of common sense rules (or economic theories setting them forth) of exchange of goods. during the 's, this occurred in the oil market, the art market, the market for adoptable children, and in new stock market offerings. the literate discourse of theories or of an advertisement can only acknowledge the irrationality and suggest explanations. there are schools of market analysis based on game theory, psychodrama, cyclical modeling, the phases of the moon, etc., etc., each producing newsletters, giving advice, trying to render understandable economic and financial phenomena difficult to predict. language-like explanations and advice are part of advertising, part of market language, forming its own literacy and keeping many captive to it. but even the most literate participant cannot stop the process since the literacy involved in what some perceive as an aberration is different from the literacy embodied in the product traded or in its advertisement. irrational elements are present in the market, as in life, at all times, but not to the extent to which the language of the market reflects hysteria (as on black monday in on the new york stock exchange) or simply ceases its pragmatic function. we all deplore the continuous shrinking of the intimate sphere of our lives, but admit, in the act of constituting ourselves in the space and time of market transactions, the integrating power that the market exercises, ignoring how close the relation between the two aspects is. literacy was once a protective medium and entailed rules of discretion and decency. illiteracy makes us fear; it allows us to become more efficient, but at the same time we become subject to intrusion by all the means that capture our identity. people making purchases on-line will not hesitate to write down their personal data and credit card numbers, trusting in a sense of privacy that is part of the code of literate behavior. of all people, the computer-literate should realize the power of the net for searching, retrieving, and sorting such information for all types of uses imaginable. in the civilization of illiteracy, advertisement is no longer an integrative device that addresses a non-differentiated market but a device that addresses powerful distinctions that can capture smaller groups, even the individual. "tell me what you want to buy or sell and i'll tell you who you are," is a concise way of declaring how market semiosis x-rays its participants. the enormous marketing efforts associated with a new brand of cereal, software, a political campaign, a role in a movie, or a sports event result in advertisement's becoming a language in itself, with its own vocabulary and grammar. these are subject to rapid change because the pragmatics of the activities they represent change so fast. "tell me what you buy and i'll tell you who you are"-mug shots of all of us are taken continuously, by extremely inventive digital devices, while the market fine-tunes us. buying products ended long ago. products now buy us. advertising in the civilization of illiteracy is no longer communication or illustration. it is an information processing activity, bizarre at times, extremely innovative in the ability to cross reference information and fine-tune the message to the individual. automatic analysis of data is complemented by refinement methods that adjust the weight of words in order to fit the addressee. in the reality of the market and its attendant advertising, languages pertaining to art, education, ideology, sexuality, are integrated at a high level of sophistication in the infinite series of mediations that constitute the pragmatic framework of human existence. nothing is more valuable than the knowledge of who we are. one can risk stating that brokers of information about each of us will probably fare best in this market of many competing partial literacies. when markets rely more and more on mediations, and market cycles become faster and faster, when the global nature of transactions requires mechanisms of differentiation and integration far beyond the scope of language, literacy ceases to play a dominating role. the literate message assumed that the human being is the optimal source of information and the ideal receiver. the illiterate message can send itself automatically, as image or as speech, as video or as internet spamming, whatever best hits its human target, to people's addresses. whether we like it or not, face-to-face negotiations have already become fax-to-fax and are bound to be converted into program-to-program dealings. the implications are so far-reaching that emotional reactions, such as enthusiasm or disgust, are not really the best answer to this prospect. market pragmatics in our civilization is defined by the need to continuously expand surplus to meet a dominant desire and expectation driven exchange of goods and services. these desires and expectations correspond to the global scale of human interaction for which a dominant literacy is poorly suited. hundreds of literacies, representing hundreds of forms of human self-constitution around the world, are integrated in the supersign known as the market. the market-in its narrow sense as transaction, and as a sign process joining structure and dynamics-focuses all that pertains to the relation between the individual and the social environment: language, customs, mores, knowledge, technology, images, sounds, odors, etc. through the market, economies are ascertained or subjected to painful restructuring. recent years brought with them turmoil and economic opportunity as an expression of new pragmatic characteristics. competition, specialization, cooperation, were all intensified. an exciting but just as often disconcerting growth path of economic activity generated markets of high performance. just-in-time, point-of-sale, and electronic interchanges came into being because the human pragmatic made them necessary. this is why it is difficult to accept views, regardless of their public acclaim, that explain the dynamics of economic life through technological change. the increased speeds of economic cycles are not parallel but related to the new practical experiences of human self-constitution. cognitive resources became the main commodity for economic experiences. and the market fully confirms this through mechanisms for accelerated transactions and through sign processes of a complexity that technology has really never reached. new algorithms inspired by dynamic systems, intelligent agent models, and better ways to handle the issues of opportunity and prediction are the expression of cognitive resources brought to fruition in a context requiring freedom from hierarchy, centralism, sequentiality, and determinism. as exciting as the model of the economy as ecosystem is (i refer to rothschild's bionomics), it remains an essentially deterministic view. no semiosis triggers forces of economic change. but sign processes, in the form of elaborate transactions, reflect the change in the pragmatic condition of the human being. all those new companies, from fast food chains to microchip makers and robot providers that convert human knowledge into the new goods and services, are the expression of the necessity of this pragmatic change. diversity and abundance might be related to competition and cooperation, but what drives economic life, market included, is the objective need to achieve levels of efficiency corresponding to the global scale human activity has reached. central planning, like any other centralized structure, including that of businesses, does not come to an end because of technological progress, but in view of the fact that it prevents efficient practical experiences. markets of the civilization of illiteracy, like the economy for which they stand, are more and more mediated. they go through faster cycles, their swings wilder, their interdependency deeper than ever. the literate experience of the market assumed that the individual was the optimal source of information and the ideal receiver. decision- making was an exclusively human experience. the illiterate message of complex data processing and evaluation can send itself automatically and reach whatever has to be reached in a given context: producers of raw materials, energy providers, manufacturers, a point-of-sale unit. as shoppers start scanning their purchases by themselves, information regarding their buying patterns makes it quickly into programs in charge of delivery, production, and marketing. face-to-face negotiations, many times replaced by fax-to-fax or e-mail-to-e-mail transactions, are converted into more program-to-program dealings. instead of mass markets, we experience point-cast markets. their pragmatics is defined by the need to continuously meet desire and expectation instead of need. their dynamics, expressed in nuclei of self-organization, is in the last instance not at all different from that of the human beings self-constituted in their reality. language and work work is a means of self-preservation beyond the primitive experience of survival. actually, one can apply the word work only from the moment awareness of human self- constitution in practical experiences emerged from these experiences. awareness of work and the beginnings of language are probably very close to one another. by work we understand patterns of human activity, not the particulars of one or another form of work. this defines a functional perspective first of all, and allows us to deal with replication of these patterns. interaction, mutation, growth, spreading, and ending are part of the pattern. for anyone even marginally informed, it is quite clear that work patterns of agriculture are quite different from those of the pre-industrial, industrial, or post-industrial age. our aim is to examine work patterns of the civilization of literacy in contrast to those of the civilization of illiteracy. that agriculture was determined, in its specific aspects, by different topography and climatic biological context is quite clear. nevertheless, the people constituting their identity in experiences of cultivating the land accomplished it in coherent ways, regardless of their geographic location. their language experience testifies to an identifiable set of concerns, questions, and knowledge which is, despite the fragmented picture of the world, more homogenous than we could expect. if, by contrast, one considers a chip foundry of today's high technology, it becomes clear how chip producers in silicon valley and those in chinese provinces, in russia, or in a developing country of eastern europe, asia, or africa share the same language and the same concerns. the example of agriculture presents a bottom-up structure of pre-literate nature, based mainly on reaction. reaction slowly but surely led to more deliberate choices. experience converged in repetitive patterns. the more efficient experiences were confirmed, the others discarded. a body of knowledge was accumulated and transmitted to everyone partaking in survival activities. in the case of the chip foundry, the structure is top-down: goals and reasons are built in, and so is the critical knowledge of a post-literate nature required for achieving high efficiency. skills are continuously perfected through reinforcement schemes. activity is programmed. an explicit notion of the factory's goals-high quality, high efficiency, high adaptability to new requirements-is built into the entire factory system. in both models, corresponding to real-life situations, language is constituted as part of the experience. indeed, coordination of effort, communication, record keeping, and transmission of knowledge are continuously requested. as a replicative process, work implies the presence of language as an agent of transfer. language pertinent to the experience of agriculture is quite different from the language pertinent to the modern production of chips. one is more natural than the other, i.e., its connection to the human being's natural stage is stronger than that of the activity in the foundry. in the chip age of the civilization of illiteracy, languages of extreme precision become the means for an efficient practical experience. their functions are different from those of natural language, which by all means still constitutes a medium for human interaction. all these remarks are meant to provide a relatively comfortable entry to the aspects of the changing relation between language and work. the terminology is based on today's fashionable lingo of genetics, and of memetics, its counterpart. still, i would suggest more than caution, because memetics focuses on the quantitative analysis of cultural dynamics, while semiotics, which represents the underlying conception, is concerned primarily with qualitative aspects. as we have already seen, evolutionary biology became a source of metaphors for the new sciences of economics, as well as for the acquisition and dissemination of knowledge, or the replication of ideas. many people are at work in the new scientific space of memetic considerations. the majority are focused on effective procedures, probably computational in nature, for generating mechanisms that will result in improved human interactions. as exciting as all this is, qualitative considerations might prove no less beneficial, if indeed we could translate them in effective practical experiences. if the purposeful character of all living organisms can be seen as an inevitable consequence of evolution, the dynamics of human activity, reflected in successive pragmatic frameworks, goes beyond the mechanism of natural selection. this is exactly where the sign perspective of human interaction, including that in work, differentiates itself from the quantitative viewpoint. as long as selection itself is a practical experience-choose from among possibilities-it becomes difficult to use selection in order to explain how it takes place. in the tradition of analogies to machines-of yesterday or of today-we could look at work as a machine capable of self-reproduction (von neumann's concept). in the new tradition of memetics, work would be described as a replicative complex unit, probably a meta-meme. but both analogies are focused ultimately on information exchange, which is only a limited part of what sign processes (or semioses, as they are called) are. this is not to say that work is reducible to sign processes or to language. what is of interest is the connection between work and signs, or language. moreover, how pragmatic frameworks and characteristics of language experiences are interconditioned is a subject that involves a memetic perspective, but is not reducible to it. inside and outside the world comparisons of the efficiency of direct human practical experiences to that of mediated forms-with the aid of tools, signs, or languages-suggest one preliminary observation: the efficiency of the action mediated through sign systems is higher than that of direct action. the source of this increase in efficiency is the cognitive effort to adapt the proper means (how work is done) to the end (what is accomplished) pursued. in retrospect, we understand that this task is of a tall order-it involves observation, comparison, and the ability to conceive of alternatives. as we learn from attempts involving the best of science and the best of technology, the emulation of such cognitive processes, especially as they evolve over time, is not yet within our reach. language, together with all other sign systems, is an integral part of the process of constitution and affirmation of human nature. the role it plays in the process is dynamic. it corresponds to the different pragmatic contexts in which human beings project their structural reality into the reality of their universe of life. the biophysical system within which this projection took and takes place underwent and still undergoes major changes. they are reflected in the biophysical reality of the human being itself. to be part of a changing world and to observe this change places the human being simultaneously inside and outside the world: inside as part of it, as a genetic sequence; outside as its conscience, expressed in all the forms through which awareness, including that of work, is externalized. whether a very restricted (limited by the pragmatic horizon of primitive human beings), or a potentially universal system of expression, representation, and communication, language cannot be conceived independent of human nature. neither can it be conceived independent of other means of expression, representation, and communication. the necessity of language is reflected in the degree to which evolutionary determination and self-determination of the individual or of society, correlate. language is constituted in human practical experiences. at the same time, it is constitutive, together with many other elements of human praxis: biological endowment, heuristics and logic, dialectic, training. this applies to the most primitive elements of language we can conceive of, as well as to today's productive languages. embodied in literacy, language accounts for the ever-deepening specialization and fragmentation of human praxis. the replacement of the literate use of language by the illiteracy of the many languages dismissing it in work, market transactions, and even social life is the process to which we are at the same time witnesses and agents of change. sign systems of all kinds, but primarily language, housed and stored many of the projects that changed the condition of praxis. the major changes are: from direct to mediated, from sequential to parallel, from centralized to decentralized, from clustered (in productive units such as factories) to distributed, from dualistic (right or wrong) to multi-valued (along the continuum of acceptable engineering solutions), from deterministic to non-deterministic and chaotic, from closed (once a product is produced, the problem-solving cycle is completed) to open (human practical experiences are viewed as problem generating), from linear to non-linear. each of these changes, in turn, made the structural limits of language more and more evident. practical experiences in the design of languages, in particular the new languages of visualization, are pushing these limits in order to accommodate new expectations, such as increased expressiveness, higher processing speed, inter-operability-an image can trigger further operations. globality of human practical experience succeeds against the background of the emergence of many languages that are very specific, though global in scope in that they can be applied all over the world. the chip factory already mentioned-or, for that matter, an integrated pizza or hamburger production facility-can be delivered turn-key in any corner of the world. the languages of mathematics, of engineering, or of genetics might independently be characterized by the same sequentiality, dualism, centralism, determinism that made natural language itself incapable of handling complexities resulting from the new scale of human activity. once integrated in practical experiences of a different nature, such as those of automation, they all allow for a new dynamics. obviously, they are less expressive than language-we have yet to read a dna sequence poem, or listen to the music of a mathematical formula-but infinitely more precise. we are what we do in the contemporary world, communication is progressively reified and takes place more and more through the intermediary of the product. its source is human work. characteristics of the languages involved in the work are also projected into them. a new underlying structure replaces that which made literacy possible and necessary. in the physical or spiritual reality of the product, specialized languages are re-translated into the universal language of satisfying needs, or creating new needs, which are afterwards processed through the mediating mechanisms of the market. reification (from the latin res: transformation of everything-life, language, feeling, work-into things) is the result of the alienating logic of the market and its semiosis. markets abstract individual contributions to a product. in the first place, language itself is reified and consumed. markets reify this contribution, turning life, energy, doubts, time, or whatever else-in particular language-into the commodity embodied in the product. the very high degree of integration leads to conditions in which high efficiency-the most possible at the lowest price-becomes a criterion for survival. the consequence is that human individuality is absorbed in the product. people literally put their lives, and everything pertaining to them-natural history, education, family, feelings, culture, desires-in the outcome of their practical experiences. this absorption of the human being into the product takes place at different levels. in the second place, the individual constituted in work is also reified and consumed: the product contains a portion of the limited duration of the lives of those who processed it. each form of mediated work depends upon its mediating entities. as one form of work is replaced by another, more efficient, the language that mediated is replaced by other means. languages of coordination corresponding to hunting, or those of incipient agriculture, made way for subsequent practical experience of self-constitution in language. this applies to any and all forms of work, whether resulting in agricultural, industrial, artistic, or ideological products. the metaphors of genetics and evolutionary models can be applied. we can describe the evolution of work in memetic terminology, but we would still not capture the active role of sign processes. moreover, human reproduction, between its sexual and its cultural forms, would become meaningless if separated from the pragmatic framework through which human self-constitution takes place. to illustrate how language is consumed, let us shortly examine what happens in the work we call education. in our day, the need for continual training increases dramatically. the paradigm of a once-for-life education is over, as much as literacy is over. shorter production cycles require changes of tools and the pertinent training. a career for life, possible while the linear progress of technology required only maintenance of skills and slight changes of knowledge, is an ideal of the past. efficiency requirements translate into training strategies that are less costly and less permanent than those afforded through literacy. these strategies produce educated operators as training itself becomes a product, offered by training companies whose list of clients includes fast food chains, nuclear energy producers, frozen storage facilities, the u.s. congress, and computer operations. the market is the place where products are transacted and where the language of advertising, design, and public relations is consumed. training, too, focused more and more on non-literate means of communication, is consumed. literacy and the machine man built machines which imitated the human arm and its functions, and thus changed the nature of work. the skills needed to master such machines were quite different from the skills of craftsmen, no longer transmitted from generation to generation, and less permanent. the industrial revolution made possible levels of efficiency high enough to allow for the maintenance of both machines and workers. it also made possible the improvement of machines and required better qualified operators, who were educated to extract the maximum from the means of production entrusted to them. at present, due to the integrative mechanisms that humans have developed in the processes of labor division, natural language has lost, and keeps losing, importance in the population's practical experience. the lower quality of writing, reading, and verbal expression, as they apply to self-constitution through work and social life, is symptomatic of a new underlying structure for the pragmatic framework. literacy-based means of expression and communication are substituted, not just complemented, by other forms of expression and communication. or they are reduced to a stereotyped repertory that is easy to mechanize, to automate, and finally, to do away with. overseeing an automated assembly line, serving a sophisticated machine, participating in a very segmented activity without having a real overview of it, and many similar functions ultimately means to be part of a situation in which the subject's competence is progressively reduced to fit the task. before being rationalized away, it is stereotyped. the language involved, in addition to that of engineering, is continuously compressed, trimmed according to the reduced amount of communication possible or necessary, and according to situations that change continuously and very fast. today, a manual for the maintenance and repair of a highly sophisticated machine or weapon contains fewer words than images. the words still used can be recorded and associated with the image. or the whole manual can become a videotape, laser disk, or cd-rom, even network-distributed applications, to be called upon when necessary. the machine can contain its computerized manual, displaying pages (on the screen) appropriate to the maintenance task performed, generating synthesized speech for short utterances, and for canned dialogues. here are some oddly related facts: the treasury designs dollar bills that will tell the user their denomination; cars are already equipped with machines to tell us that we forgot to lock the door or fasten our seat belt; greeting cards contain voice messages (and in the future they will probably contain animated images). we can see in such gadgets a victory of the most superficial tastes people might have. but once the gratuitous moment is over, and first reactions fade away, we face a pragmatic situation which, whether synthesized messages are used or not, reflects an underlying structure better adapted to the complexities of the new scale of humankind. the holographic dollar bill that declines its name might even become useless when transactions become entirely electronic. the voice of our cars might end up in a museum once the generalized network for guiding our automobiles is in place, and all we have to do is to punch in a destination and some route expectations ("i want to take the scenic route"). moreover, the supertech car itself might join its precursors in the museum once work becomes so distributed that the energy orgy, so evident on the rush-hour clogged highways, is replaced by more rational strategies of work and life. telecommuting is a timid beginning and a pale image of what such strategies might be. the speaking greeting card might be replaced by a program that remembers whose birthday it is and, after searching the mugshot of the addressee (likes rap, wears artificial flowers, is divorced, lives in bexley, ohio), custom designs an original message delivered with the individualized electronic newspaper when the coffee is ready. a modest company manufacturing screensavers, using today's still primitive applications in the networked world, could already do this. anticipation aside, we notice that work involves means of production that are more and more sophisticated. nevertheless, the market of human work is at a relatively low level of literacy because human being do not need to be literate for most types of work. one reason for this is that the new machines incorporate the knowledge needed to fulfill their tasks. the machines have become more efficient than humans. the university system that is supposed to turn out literate graduates for the world of work obeys the same expectations of high efficiency as any other human practical experience. universities become more and more training facilities for specific vocations, instead of carrying on their original goal of giving individuals a universal education in the domain of ideas. the statement concerning the literacy level does not reflect the longing of humanists but the actual situation in the manpower market. what we encounter is the structurally determined fact that natural language is no longer, at least in its literate form, the main means of recording collective experience, nor the universal means of education. for instance, in all its aspects-work, market, education, social life-the practical experience of human self-constitution relies less on literacy and more on images. since the role of images is frequently mentioned (formulated differently, perhaps), the reader might suspect this is only a way of speaking. the actual situation is quite different. pictographic messages are used whenever a certain norm or rule has to be observed. this is not a question of transcending various national languages (as in airports or olympic stadiums, or with traffic signals, or in transactions pertinent to international trade), but a way of living and functioning. the visual dominates communication today. words and sentences, affected by long-time use in various social, geographical, and historical contexts, became too ambiguous and require too much educational overhead for successful communication. communication based on literacy requires an investment higher than the one needed for producing, perceiving, and observing images. through images a positivist attitude is embodied, and a sense of relativity is introduced. avoiding sequential reading, time and money consuming instruction, and the rigidity of the rules of literacy, the use of images reflects the drive for efficiency as this results from the new scale of human survival and future well-being. the change from literacy-oriented to visually-oriented culture is not the result of media development, as romantic media ecologists would like us to believe. actually, the opposite is true. it is the result of fundamental ways of working and exchanging goods, within the new pragmatic framework that determined the need for these media in the first place, and afterwards made possible their production, dissemination, and their continuous diversification. the change under discussion here is very complex. direct demands of mediated praxis and the new, highly mediative means of mass communication (television, computers, telecommunication, networks), acting as instruments of integrating the individual in the mechanism of a global economy, are brought to expression in this mutation. transition from language to languages, and from direct to indirect, multimediated communication is not reducible to abandoning logocentrism (a structural characteristic of cultures based on literacy) and the logic attached to it. we participate in the process of establishing many centers of importance that replace the word, and compete with language as we know it. these can be found in subculture, but also within the entrenched culture. one example is the proliferation of electronic cafés, where clients sipping their coffee on the west coast can carry on a dialogue with a friend in barcelona; or contact a japanese journalist flying in one of the soviet space missions; or receive images from an art exhibit opening in bogota; or play chess with one of the miracle sisters from budapest. these experiences take place in what is known generically as cyberspace. the disposable human being while it is true that just as many different curves can be drawn through a finite number of points, consistent observations can be subsumed under various explanations. observations regarding the role and status of literacy might result in explanations that put radically different glosses on their results, but they cannot escape confirming the sense of change defined here. this change ultimately concerns the identity humans acquire in illiterate experiences of self-constitution. progressively abandoning reading and writing and replacing them with other forms of communication and reception, humans participate in another structural change: from centralization to decentralization; from a centripetal model of existence and activity, with the traditional system of values as an attraction point (religious, aesthetic, moral, political values, among others) to a centrifugal model; and from a monolithic to a pluralistic model. paradoxically, the loss of the center also means that human beings lose their central role and referential value. this results in a dramatic situation: when human creativity compensates for the limited nature of resources (minerals, energy, food supply, water, etc.), either by producing substitutes or by stimulating efficient forms of their use, the human itself becomes a disposable commodity, more so the more limited its practical self-constitution is. within the pragmatics characteristic of the underlying literacy, machines were changed less often; but even when changed, the human operator did not have to be replaced. a basic set of skills sufficed for lifelong activity. engineering was concerned with artifacts as long lasting as life. the pragmatic framework of illiteracy, as one of rapid change and progressively shorter cycles, made the human more easily replaceable. at the new scale of human activity, the very large and growing commodity of human beings decreases in value: in its market value, and in its spiritual and real value. the sanctity of life gives way to the intricate technology of life maintenance, to the mechanics of existence and the body-building shops. in the stock market of spare parts, a kidney or a heart, mechanical or natural, is listed almost the same way as pork bellies and cement, van gogh's paintings, cd players, and nuclear headscrews. they are quoted and transacted as commodities. and they support highly specialized work, compensated at the level of professional football or basketball. projected into and among products of short-lived destiny, the human beings working to make them project a morality of the disposable that affects their own condition and, finally, the dissolution of their values. as a result of high levels of work efficiency, there are enough resources to feed and house humankind, but not enough to support practical experiences that redeem the integrity of the individual and the dignity of human existence. within a literate discourse, with an embedded ideology of permanency, the morality of the disposable makes for good headlines; but since it does not affect the structural conditions conducive to this morality, it soon gets lost in the many other literate commentaries, including those decrying the decline of literacy. the broader picture to which these reflections belong includes, of course, the themes of disposable language. if basic skills, as defined by harvard professor and secretary of labor robert reich, massachusetts institute of technology economics professor lester thurow, and many educators and policy-makers, become less and less meaningful in the fast-changing world of work, it is easy to understand why little weight can be attached to one or another individual. under the guise of basic skills, young and less than young workers receive an education in reading and writing that has nothing to do with the emergent practical experiences of ever shorter cycles. companies in search of cheap labor have discovered the usa, or at least some parts of it, and achieve here efficiencies that at home, under labor laws originating from a literate pragmatics, are not attainable. mercedes-benz, bmw, porsche, and many japanese companies train their labor force in south carolina, mississippi, arkansas, and other states. the usefulness of the people these companies train is almost equal to that of the machine, unless the workers are replaced by automation. the technological cycle and the human cycle are so closely interwoven that one can predicate the hybrid nature of technology today: machines with a live component. as a matter of fact, it is interesting to notice how progressively machines no longer serve us, but how we serve them. entirely equipped to produce high quality desktop publishing, to process data for financial transactions, to visualize scientific phenomena, such machines require that we feed the data and run the program so that a meaningful output results. in the case in which the machine might not know the difference between good and bad typography, for example, the human operator supplies the required knowledge, based on intangible factors such as style or taste. scale of work, scale of language within each framework, be that of agriculture, pre-industrial, industrial, or post- industrial practical experiences, continuity of means and methods and of semiotic processes can be easily established. what should most draw our attention are discontinuities. we are going through such a discontinuity, and the opposition between the civilization of literacy and the civilization of illiteracy is suggestive of this. evidently, within the new practical experiences through which our own identity is constituted, this is reflected in fast dynamics of economic change. some industries disappear overnight. many innovative ideas become work almost as quickly, but this work has a different condition. discontinuity goes beyond analogy and statistical inferences. it marks the qualitative change which we see embodied in the new relations between work and language. one of the major hypotheses of this book is that discontinuities, also described in dynamic systems theory as phase shifts, occur as scale changes. threshold values mark the emergence of new sign processes. as we have seen, practical experiences through which humans continuously ascertain their reality are affected by the scale at which they take place. immediate tasks, such as those characteristic of direct forms of work, do not require a division into smaller tasks, a decomposition into smaller actions. the more complex the task, the more obvious the need to divide it. but it is not until the scale characteristic of our age is reached that decomposition becomes as critical as it now is. in industrial society, and in every civilization prior to it, the relation between the whole (task, goal, plan) and the parts (subtasks, partial goals, successive plans) is within the range of the human's ability to handle it. labor division is a powerful mechanism for a divide and conquer strategy applied to tasks of growing complexity. the generation of choices, and the ability to compensate for the limited nature of resources as these affect the equation of population growth, integrate this rule of decomposition. literacy, itself a practical experience of not negligible complexity, helps as long as the depth of the division into smaller parts, and the breadth of the integrative travail do not go beyond litercy's own complexity. when this happens, it is obvious that even if means belonging to literacy were effective in managing very deep hierarchies in order to allow for re-integration of the parts in the desired whole, the management of such means would itself go beyond the complexity we are able to cope with. indeed, although very powerful in many respects, when faced with many pragmatic levels independent of language, literacy (through which language attains its optimal operational power) appears flat. actually, not only literacy appears flat, but even the much glorified human intelligence. distinctions that result from deeper segmentation of work, brought about by the requirements of a scale of population and demand of an order of magnitude exponentially higher than any experience an individual can have, can no longer be grasped by single minds. since the condition of the mind depends on interaction with other minds within practical experiences of self-constitution, it results that means of interaction different from those appropriate to sequentiality, linearity, and dualism are necessary. this new stage is not a continuation of a previous stage. it is even less a result of an incremental progression. the wheel, once upon a time a rounded stone, along with a host of wheel-based means of practical experiences, opened a perspective of progression. so did the lever, and probably alphabetic writing, and the number system. this is why the old and new could be linked through comparisons, metaphors, and analogies in a given scale of humankind. but this is also why, when the scale changes, we have to deal with discontinuity and avoid misleading translations in the language of the past. a car was still, in some ways, the result of incremental progression from the horse-drawn carriage. an airplane, and later a rocket, are less along a line of gradual change, but still conceptually close to our own practical experience with flying birds, or with the physics of action and reaction. nevertheless, a nuclear reactor is well beyond such experiences. the conceptual hierarchy it embodies takes it out of the realm of any previous pragmatic experience. the effort here is to tame the process, to keep it within a scale that allows for our use of a new resource of energy. the relation between the sizes actively involved-nuclear level of matter compared to the enormous machinery and construction-is not only beyond the power of distinction of individual minds, but also of any operators, unless assisted by devices themselves of a high degree of complexity. the chernobyl meltdown suggests only the magnitudes involved, and how peripheral to them are the literacy-based experiences of energy management. the enormous satellite and radio-telephonic network, which physically embodies the once fashionable concept of ether, is another example of the scale of work under the circumstances of the new scale of human activity; and so are the telephone networks-copper, coaxial, or fiberglass. the conceptual hierarchies handled by such networks of increasingly generalized communication of voice, data, and images make any comparison to edison's telephone, to letters, or to videotapes useless. the amount of information, the speed of transmission, and the synchronicity mechanisms required and achieved in the network-all participate in establishing a framework for remote interaction that practically resets the time for all involved and does away with physical distances. literacy, by its intrinsic characteristics, could not achieve such levels. finally, the computer, associated or not with networks, makes this limit to our ability to grasp complexities even more pressing. we have no problems with the fact that a passenger airplane is times faster than a pedestrian, and carries, at its current capacity, - passengers plus cargo. the computer chip itself is a conceptual accomplishment beyond anything we can conceive of. the depth encountered in the functioning of the digital computer-from the whole it represents to its smallest components endowed with functions integrated in its operation-is of a scale to which we have no intuitive or direct access. computers are not a better abacus. some computer users have even noticed that they are not even a better cash register. they define an age of semiotic focus, in that symbol manipulation follows language processing. (the word symbol points to work become semiotic praxis, but this is not what i am after here.) in addition to the complexity it embodies, the computer makes another distinction necessary. it replaces the world of the continuum by a world of discrete states. probably this distinction would be seen only as qualitative, if the shift from the universe of continuous functions and monotonic behavior-whatever applies to extreme cases applies to everything in between-were not concretized in a different condition of human self-constitutive practical experience. in the universe of literacy-based analog expectations, accumulation results in progress: know more (language, science, arts), have more (resources), acquire more (real estate). even striving-from a general attitude to particular forms (do better, achieve higher levels)-is inherent in the underlying structure of the analog. the digital is not linear in nature. within the digital, one small deviation (one digit in the phrase) changes the result of processing so drastically that retracing the error and fixing it becomes itself a new experience, and many times a new source of knowledge. in a written sentence, a misspelling or a typographical error is almost automatically corrected. through literacy, we dispose of a model that tells us what is right. in the digital, the language of the program and the data on which programs operate are difficult to distinguish (if at all). such machines can manipulate more symbols, and of a broader variety, than the human mind can. free of the burden of previous practical experiences, such machines can refer to potential experiences in a frame of reference where literacy is entirely blind. the behavior of an object in a multi- dimensional space (four, five, six, or more dimensions), actions along a timeline that can be regressive, or in several distinct and unrelated time frames, modeling choices beyond the capability of the human mind-all these, and many more, with practical significance for the survival and development of humankind are acceptable problems for a digital computer. it is true, as many would hasten to object, that the computer does not formulate the problem. but this is not the point. neither does literacy formulate problems. it only embodies formulations and answers pertinent to work within a scale of manageable divisions. the less expressive language of zeros and ones (yes-no, open-closed, white- black) is more precise, and definitely more appropriate, for levels of complexity as high as those resulting from this new stage in the evolution. the generality of the computer (a general-purpose machine), the abstraction of the program of symbol manipulation, and the very concrete nature of the data upon which it is applied represent a powerful combination of reified knowledge, effective procedures for solving problems, and high resolution capabilities. those who see the computer as only the principal technological metaphor of our time (according to j. d. bolter) miss the significance of the new metrics of human activity and its degree of necessity as it results from awareness of the limits of our minds (after the limits of the body were experienced in industrial society). edsger dijkstra, affirming the need for an orthogonal method of coping with radical novelty, concludes that this "amounts to creating and learning a new foreign language that cannot be translated into one's mother tongue." the direction he takes is right; the conclusion is still not as radical as the new scale of human activity and the limits of our self-constitution require. coming to grips with the radical change that he and many, many others ascertain, amounts to understanding the end of literacy and the illiteracy of the numerous languages required by our practical experience of self- constitution. this conspectus of the transformation we experience may foster its own forms of fresh confusion. for instance, in what was called a civilized society, language acted as the currency of cultural transactions. if higher level needs and expectations continue to drive the market and technology, will they eventually become subservient to the illiterate means they have generated? or, if language in one of its illiterate embodiments cannot keep pace with the exponential growth of information, will it undergo a restructuring in order to become a parallel process? or will we generate more inclusive symbols, or some form of preprocessing, before information is delivered to human beings? all these questions relate to work, as the experience from which human identities result together with the products bearing their mark. the active condition of any sign system is quite similar to the condition of tools. the hand that throws a stone is a hand influenced by the stone. levers, hammers, pliers, no less than telescopes, pens, vending machines, and computers support practical experiences, but also affect the individuals constituting themselves through their use. a gesture, a written mark, a whisper, body movements, words written or read, express us or communicate for us, at the same time affecting those constituted in them. how language affects work means, therefore, how language affects the human being within a pragmatic framework. to deal with some aspects of this extremely difficult problem we can start with the original syncretic condition of the human being. innate heuristics conceptual tools that can be used to refer to the human being in its syncretic condition exist only to the degree to which we identify them in language. in every system we know of, variety and precision are complementary. indeed, whether human beings hunt or present personal experiences to others, they attempt to optimize their efforts. too many details affect efficiency; insufficient detail affects the outcome. there seems to be a structural relation of the nature of one to many, between our what and our how. this relation is scrutinized in the pragmatic context where efficiency considerations finally make us choose from among many possibilities. the optimum chosen indicates what, from the possibilities humans are aware of, is most suitable for reaching the goal pursued. moreover, such an optimum is characteristic of the pragmatics of the particular context. for example, hunting could be performed alone or in groups, by throwing stones or hurling spears, by shooting arrows, or by setting traps. the syncretic primitive being was (and still is, in existing primitive cultures) involved in a practical experience in its wholeness: through that being's biological endowment, relation to the environment, acquired skills and understanding, emotions (such as fear, joy, sorrow). the specialized individual constitutes himself in experiences progressively more and more partial. nevertheless, the two have a natural condition in common. what distinguishes them is a strategy for survival and preservation that progressively departs from immediate needs and direct action to humanized needs and mediated action. this means a departure from a very limited set of options ("when hungry, search for food," for example), to multiplying the options, and thus establishing for the human being an innate heuristic condition. this means that homo sapiens looks for options. humans are creative and efficient. my line of reasoning argues that, while verbal language may be innate (as chomsky's theory advances), the heuristic dimension characteristic of human self- constitution certainly is. in hunting, for instance, the choice of means (defining the how) reflects the goal (to get meat) and also the awareness of what is possible, as well as the effort to expand the realm of the possible. the major effort is not to keep things the way they are, but to multiply the realm of possibilities to ensure more than mere survival. this is known as progress. the same heuristic strategy can be applied to the development of literacy. before the western alphabet was established, a number of less optimal writing systems (cuneiform, hieroglyphics, etc.) were employed. the very concrete nature of such languages is reflected in the limited expressive power they had. current chinese and japanese writing are examples of this phenomenon today. in comparison to the - letters of western alphabets, command of a minimum of , ideographic signs represents the entry level in chinese and japanese; command of , ideographic signs would correspond to the western ideal of literacy. behind the letters and characters of the various language alphabets, there is a history of optimization in which work influenced expression, expression constituted new frames for work, and together, generative and explanatory models of the world were established. the what and the how of language were initially on an order of complexity similar to that characteristic of actions. over time, actions became simpler while languages acquired the complexity of the heuristic experience. the what and the how of mediation tools of a higher order of abstraction than language, achieved even higher complexities. such complexities were reflected in the difference in the order of magnitude between human work and outcome, especially the choices generated. parallel to the loss of the syncretic nature of the human being at the level of the individual, we notice the composite syncretism of the community. individual, relatively stable, wholeness was replaced by a faster and faster changing community- related wholeness. language experiences were part of this shift. self-constituted in the practical use of language, the human being realized its social dimension, itself an example of the acquired multiplication of choice. indeed, within the very small scale of incipient humanity corresponding to the stage of self-ascertainment (when signs were used and elements of language appeared), population and food supply were locked in the natural equation best reflected in the structural circularity of existence and survival. it is at this juncture that the heuristic condition applies: the more animals prey on a certain group, this group will either find survival strategies (adaptive or other kinds), or indeed cease to be available as food for others. but once the human being was ascertained, evidence shows that instead of focusing on one or few ways to get at its food sources, it actually diversified the practical experience of self-constitution and survival, proceeding from one, or few, to many resources. homo habilis was past the scavenging stage and well into foraging, hunting, and fishing during the pre-agricultural pragmatic frame. what for other species became only a limited food supply, and resulted in mechanisms of drastic growth control (through famine, cannibalism, and means of destroying life), in the human species resulted in a broadening of resources. in this process, the human being became a working being, and work an identifier of the species. language acquisition and the transition from the natural experience of self- constitution in survival to the practical experience of work are co-genetic. with each new scale that became possible, sequences of work marked a further departure from the universe of action-reaction. the observation to be made, without repeating information given in other chapters, is that from signs to incipient language, and from incipient language to stabilized means of expression, the scale of humankind changed and an underlying structure of practical experiences based on sequentiality, linearity, determinism (of one kind or another), and centralism established a new pragmatic framework. individual syncretism was replaced by the syncretism of communities in which individuals are identified through their work. writing was a relatively late acquisition and occurred as part of the broader process of labor division. this process was itself correlated to the diversification of resources and types of practical experiences preserving syncretism at the community level. not everyone wrote, not everybody read. the pragmatic framework suggested necessitated elements of order, ways of assigning and keeping track of assignments, a certain centralism, and, last but not least, organizational forms, which religion and governing bodies took care of. under these circumstances, work was everything that allowed for the constitution, survival, change, and advancement of the human species. it was expressed in language to the degree such expression was necessary. in other words, language is another asset or means of diversifying choices and resources. over time, limited mediation through language and literacy became necessary in order to optimize the effort of matching needs with availabilities. this mediation was itself a form of work: questions asked, questions answered, commitments made, equivalencies determined. all these defined an activity related to using available resources, or finding new ones. when productivity increased, and language could not keep up with the complexities of higher production, variety, and the need for planning, a new semiosis, characteristic of this different pragmatic level, became necessary. money, for example, introduced the next level of mediation, more abstract, that translated immediate, vital needs into a comparative scale of means to fulfill them. the context of exchange generated money, which eventually became itself a resource, a high level commodity. it also entailed a language of its own, as does each mediation. with the advent of means of exchange as universal as language, the what and how of human activity grew even more distant. direct trade became indirect. people making up the market no longer randomly matched needs and availability. their market praxis resulted in an organizing device, and used language to further diversify the resources people needed for their lives. this language was still rudimentary, direct, oral, captive to immediacy, and often consumed together with the resource or choice exhausted (when no alternative was generated). this happens even in our day. in its later constitution in practical activity, language was used for records and transactions, for plans and new experiences. the logic of this language was an extension and instantiation of the logic of human activity. it complemented the heuristic, innate propensity for seeking new choices. influenced by human interaction in the market, and subjected to the expectation of progressively higher efficiency, human activity became increasingly mediated. a proliferation of tools allowed for increased productivity in those remote times of the inception of language. eventually tools, and other artifacts, became themselves an object of the market, in addition to supporting self-constitutive practical experiences of the humans interacting with them. as a mediating element between the processor and what is processed, the tool was a means of work and a goal: better tools require instructed users. if they use tools properly, they increase the efficiency of activity and make the results more marketable. tools supported the effort of diversification of practical experiences, as well as the effort of expanding the subsistence base. the means for creating tools and other artifacts fostered other languages, such as the language of drawing, on which early engineering also relied. here, an important point should be made. no tool is merely used. in using it, the user adapts to the tool, becoming to some extent, the used, the tool of the tool. the same is true of language, writing, and literacy. they were developed by humans seeking to optimize their activity. but humans have adapted themselves to the constraints of their own inventions. at the inception of writing, the tension between an imposed written precision (as relative as this might appear from our perspective today)-keeping language close to the object, allowing into the language only objects that pictograms could represent- and a rather diverse, however very unfocused, oral language resulted in conflicts between the proponents of writing and the guardians of orality (as documented in ancient greek philosophy). the written needed to be freed from the object as much as the human being from a particular source of protein, or a particular food source. it had to support a more general expression (referring to what would become families, types, classes of objects, etc.), and thus to support practical efforts to diversify the ways of survival and continuous growth in number. the oral had to be tamed and united with the written. taming could, and did, take place only through and in work, and in socially related interaction. the practical effort to embody knowledge resulting from many practical experiences of survival into all kinds of artifacts (for measuring, orientation, navigation, etc.) testifies to this. phonetic writing, the development of the effort to optimize writing, better imitated oral language. personal characteristics, making the oral expressive, and social characteristics, endowing the written with the hints that bring it close to speech, are supported in the phonetic system. the theocratic system of pictographs and what others call the democratic language of phonetic writing deserve their names only if we understand that languages are both constitutive and representative of human experience. undifferentiated labor is theocratic. its rules are imposed by the object of the practical experience. divided labor, while affecting the integrity of those becoming only an instance of the work process, is participatory, in the sense that its results are related to the performance of each participant in the process. practical experience of language and experience of divided labor are intrinsically related and correspond to the pragmatic framework of this particular human scale. labor division and the association of very abstract phonetic entities to very concrete language instantiations of human experience are interdependent. the realm of alternatives in defining the context of change leading from an all-encompassing literacy to the civilization of illiteracy, i referred to the malthusian principle (population, when unchecked, increases geometrically, while food sources increase arithmetically). what malthus failed to acknowledge is the heuristic nature of the human species, i.e., the progressive realization of the creative potential of the only known species that, in addition to maintaining its natural condition, generates its own a-natural condition. in the process of their self-constitution, humans generate also the means for their survival and future growth beyond the circularity of mere survival strategies. the th century economist henri george gave the following example of this characteristic: "both the jayhawk and the man eat chicken, but the more jayhawks, the fewer chickens, while the more men, the more chickens." (just think about the purdue chicken industry!) the formula is flawed. humans also intervene in the jayhawk-chicken relation; the number of animals and birds in a certain area is affected by more elements than what eats what; and the population increase is meaningless unless associated with patterns of human practical experiences. species frequently become extinct due to human, not animal, intervention. despite all this, henri george's characterization captured an important aspect of the human species, as it defined itself in the human scale that made literacy possible and necessary. george's time corresponded to some interesting though misleading messages that followed the pattern of malthus' law. people were running out of timber, coal, and oil for lamps, just as we expect to run out of many other resources (minerals, energy and food sources, water, etc.). originators of messages regarding the exhaustion of such resources, regardless of the time they utter them, ignore the fact that during previous shortages, humans focused on alternatives, and made them part of new practical experiences. this was the case leading to the use of coal, when the timber supply decreased in britain in the th century, and this will be the case with the shortages mentioned above: for lighting, kerosene was extracted from the first oil wells ( ); more coal reserves were discovered; better machines were built that used less energy and made coal extraction more efficient; industry adapted other minerals; and the strict dependence on natural cycles and farming was progressively modified through food processing and storage techniques. the pragmatic framework of current human praxis is based on the structural characteristics of this higher scale of humankind. it affects the nature of human work and the nature of social, political, and national organization within emerging national states. a retrospective of the dynamics of growth and resource availability shows that with language, writing and reading, and finally with literacy, and even more through engineering outside language experience, a coherent framework of pragmatic human action was put in place, and used to compensate for the progressive imbalance between population growth and resources. our time is in more than one way the expression of a semiosis with deep roots in the pragmatic context in which writing emerged. engineering dominates today. in trying to define the semiosis of engineering, i.e. how the relation between work we associate with engineering and language evolved, we evidence both continuity-in the form of successive replications-and discontinuity-in the new condition of the current engineering work. our reference can be made to both the dissemination of the writing system based on the phoenician alphabet, and the language of drawing that makes engineering possible. phoenician traders supplied materials to the minoans. the minoan burial culture involved the burial of precious objects that embodied the experience of crafts. these objects were made out of silver, gold, tin, and lead. in time, increased quantities of such metals were permanently removed from the market. phoenicians, who supplied these materials, had to search farther and farther for them, using better tools to find and preprocess the minerals. the involvement of writing and drawing in the process of compensation between perceived needs and available resources, and the fact that searches for new resources led to the dissemination of writing and craftsmanship should be understood within the dynamics of local economies. up to which point such a compensatory action, implying literacy and engineering skills, is effective, and when it reached its climax, possibly during the industrial revolution, is a question that can be put only in retrospect. is there a moment when the balance was tilted towards the means of expression of and the communication specific to engineering? if yes, we do not know this moment; we cannot identify it on historic charts. but once the potential of literacy to support human practical experiences of self- constitution in a new pragmatic framework was exhausted, new means became necessary. to understand the dynamics of the changes that made the new pragmatic framework of the civilization of illiteracy necessary is the object of the entire book. while engineering contributed to them, they are not the result of this important practical experience, but rather a cause of how it was and is affected by them. the stream of diversified experiences that eventually gushed forth through new languages, the language of design and engineering included, resulted in the awareness of mediation, which itself became a goal. mediation of mediation with the risk of breaking the continuity of the argument, i would like to continue by suggesting the implications of this argument for the reality to which this book refers: the present. first, a general thesis derived from the analysis so far: the market of direct exchange, as well as the market of mediated forms, reflect the general structure of human activity-direct work vs. mediated forms of work-and are expressed in their specific languages. from a certain moment in human evolution, tools, as an extension of the human body and mind, are used, some directly, some indirectly. today we notice how, through the intermediary of commands transmitted electronically, pneumatically, hydraulically, thermally, or in some other way, the mediation of mediation is introduced. pressing a button, flipping a switch, punching a keyboard, triggering a relay-seen as steps preparing for entirely programmed activities-means to extend the sequence of mediations. between the hand or another body part and the processed material, processing tools and sequences of signs controlling this process are introduced. accordingly, language, as related to work, religion, education, poetry, exchange in the market, etc., is restructured. new levels of language and new, limited, functionally designed languages are generated and used for mediating. the language of drawings (more generally the language of design) is one of them. relations among these different levels and among the newly designed languages are established. but how is this related to the innate heuristic condition of the human being and to the working hypothesis advanced regarding the change in the scale of humanity? or is it only another way of saying that technology, resulting from engineering interpretations of science, defines the path to higher levels of efficiency, and to the relative illiteracy of our time? the increase in population and the dynamics of diversification (more choices, more resources) at this new scale assume a different dimension. it is irrelevant that resources of one type or another are exhausted in one economy. as a matter of fact, japan, germany, england, and even the usa (rich in the majority of resources in demand) have exhausted whatever oil, copper, tin, diamonds, or tungsten was available. due to many factors, farmland in the western world is decreasing, while the quantities and different types of food consumed per capita have increased substantially. faced with the challenge posed by the national, linear, sequential, dual, deterministic nature of the pragmatic framework that generated the need for literacy, humans discover means to transcend these limitations-globality, non-linearity, configuration, multi-valued logic, non-determination-and embody them in artifacts appropriate to this condition. the new scale necessitated creative work for multiplying available resources, for looking at needs and availabilities from a new perspective. those who see globality in the japanese sushi restaurant in provence or in the midwest, in the mcdonalds in moscow or beijing, in multinational corporations, in foreign investments mushrooming all over, miss the real significance of the term. globality applies to the understanding that we share in resources and creative means of multiplying them independent of boundaries (of language, culture, nations, alliances, etc.), as well as in high efficiency processing equipment. this understanding is not only sublime, it has its ugly side. the world would even go to war (and has, again and again) to secure access to critical resources or to keep markets open. but it is not the ugly side that defines the effective pragmatics. nor does it define the circumstances of our continuous self-definition in this world of a new dynamics of survival needs and expectations above and beyond such needs. where literacy no longer adequately supports creative work based on higher levels of efficiency, it is replaced by languages designed and adapted to mediation, or to work destined to compensate for an exhausted resource, or by machines incorporating our literacy and the literacies of higher efficiency. hunting and fishing remain as mere sport, and foraging declined to the level at which people in a country like the usa no longer know that in the woods there are mushrooms, berries, and nuts that can be used as food. even agriculture, probably the longest standing form of practical experience, escapes sequentiality and linearity, and adds industrial dimensions that make agriculture a year-round, highly specialized, efficient activity. we share resources and even more in the globality of the life support system (the ecology); in the globality of communication, transportation, and technology; and, last but not least, in the globality of the market. the conclusion is that, once again, it is not any recent discovery or trend that is the engine of change, from local to national to global, but the new circumstances of human experience, whose long-lasting effect is the altered individual. freed from the human operator and replaced by technology that ensures levels of efficiency and security for which the living being is not well adapted to provide, many types of work are simultaneously freed from the constraints of language, of literacy in particular. there is no need to teach machines spelling, or grammar, or rules of constructing sentences. there is even less of a need to maintain between the human being and the machine a mediating literacy that is awkward, inefficient, stamped by ambiguity, and burdened by various uses (religious, political, ideological, etc.). the new languages, whether interfaces between machines or between humans and machines, are of limited scope and duration. in the dynamics of work, these new languages are appropriately adapted to each other. our entire activity becomes faster, more precise, more segmented, more distributed, more complex. this activity is subordinated to a multi-valued logic of efficiency, not to dualistic inferences or truth or falsehood. some might read into the argument made so far a vote against the many kinds of activists of this day and age: the ecologists who warn of damage inflicted on the environment; malthusians tireless in warning of upcoming famine; the zero-population- growth movement, etc. some might read here a vote for technocracy, for the advocates of limitless growth, the optimists of despair, or the miracle planners (free marketers, messianic ideologists, etc.). none is the case. rather, i submit for examination a model for understanding and action that takes into account the complexity of the problem instead of explaining complexities away and working, as literacy taught us to, on simplified models. mapping out the terrain of the descriptive level of the relation between language and work under current pragmatic circumstances will assist in the attempt to plot, in some meaningful detail, the position so far described. literacy and education education and literacy are intimately related. one seems impossible without the other. nevertheless, there was education before the written word. and there is education that does not rely on literacy, or at least not exclusively. with this in mind, let us focus, in these preliminary words, on what brought literacy into education, and on the consequences of their reciprocal relation. the state of education, like the state of many other institutions embodying characteristics of literacy-based practical experiences, is far from what is expected. literacy carried the ideal of permanency into the practical experience of education. in a physical world perceived as limited in scale and fragmented, captive to sequentiality, characterized by periodic changes and intercommunal commitments aimed at maintaining permanency, literacy embodied both a goal and the means for achieving it. it defined a representative, limited set of choices. within this structure, education is the practical experience of stabilizing optimal modes of interaction centered around values expressed in language. education based on literacy is adapted to the dynamics of change within the reduced scale of humankind that eventually led to the formation of nations-entities of relative self-sufficiency. within national boundaries, population growth, resources, and choices could be kept in balance. purposely simplified, this view allows us to understand that education evolved from its early stages-direct transmission of experience from one person to another, from one generation to another-to religion-based educational structures. filtered by a set of religious premises, education later opened a window beyond the immediate and the proximity of life, and evolved, not painlessly, into schools and universities concerned with knowledge and scholarship. this, too, was a long process, with many intermediate steps, which eventually resulted in the generalized system of education we now have in place, and which reflects the separation of church and state. liberal education and all the values attached to it are the foundational matrix of the current system of general education. if you give someone a hammer, every problem looks like a nail. if you give someone an alphabet, every problem becomes one of literacy and education-this would probably be a good paraphrase, applicable to the discussions on education in our day. it should not follow, however, that with the world wide web, education is only a matter of on-line postings of classes and the accidental matching of educational needs to network availabilities. in our world of change and discontinuity, the end of literacy, along with the end of education based on literacy, is not a symptom, but a necessary development, beyond on-line studies. this conclusion, which may appear to be a criticism of the digital dissemination of knowledge, might seem hasty at this point in the text. the arguments to follow will justify the conclusion. "know the best" resulting from our self-constitution in a world obsessed with efficiency and satisfaction, the insatiable effort to exhaust the new-only to replace it with the newer- puts education in a perspective different from that opened by literacy. education driven by literacy seems to be condemned to a sui generis catch-up condition, or "damned if you do, damned if you don't." in the last years, education has prepared students for a future different from the one education used to shape in a reactive mode. under the enormous pressure of expectations (social, political, economic, moral) it simply cannot fulfill, unless it changes as the structure of the pragmatic framework changed, the institution of education has lost its credibility. classes, laboratories, manuals, any of the educational methods advanced, not to mention the living inventory of teachers, account for contents and ways of thinking only marginally (if at all) linked to the change from a dominant literacy to numerous literacies. ibm, fighting to redefine itself, stated bluntly in one of its educational campaigns, "since , every institution has kept up with change, except one: education." more money than ever, more ideals and sweat have been invested in the process of educating the young, but little has changed either the general perception of education or the perception of those educated. the most recent laboratory of the high school or university is already outdated when the last piece of equipment is ordered. the competence of even the best teachers becomes questionable just as their students start their first journey in practical life. the harder our schools and colleges try to keep pace with change, the more obvious it becomes that this is a wrong direction to pursue, or that something in the nature of our educational system makes the goal unreachable-or both of these alternatives. some people believe that the failure is due to the bureaucracy of education. much can be said in support of this opinion. the national institute for literacy is an example of how a problem can become a public institution. other people believe that the failure is due to the inability of educators to develop a good theory of education, based on how people learn and what the best way to teach is. misunderstanding the implications of education and setting false priorities are also frequently invoked. misunderstanding too often resulted in expensive government projects of no practical consequence. other explanations are also given for the failure of education-liberalism, excessive democracy in education, rejection of tradition, teaching and learning geared to tests, the breakdown of the family. (listing them here should not be misconstrued as an endorsement.) it seems that every critic of today's education has his or her own explanation of what each thinks is wrong. some of these explanations go well back, almost to the time when writing was established: education affects originality, dampens spontaneity, and infringes upon creativity. education negates naturalness during the most critical period of development, when the minds of young people, the object of education, are most impressionable. other arguments are more contemporary: if the right texts (whatever right means) were to be taught, using the best methods to put them in a light that makes them attractive, education would not lose out to entertainment. some groups advocate the digest approach for texts, sometimes presented in the form of comic strips or internet-like messages of seven sentences per paragraph, each sentence containing no more than seven words. these explanations assume the permanence of literacy. they concentrate on strategies, from infantile to outlandish, to maintain literacy's role, never questioning it, never even questioning whether the conditions that made it necessary might have changed to the degree that a new structure is already in place. educators like to think that their program is defined through matthew arnold's prescription, "know the best that is known and thought in the world," an axiom of tradition-driven self- understanding. this attitude is irrelevant in a context in which best is an identifier of wares, not of dynamic knowledge. some educators would follow jacques barzun's recommendation: "serious reading, serious teaching of reading, and inculcation of a love for reading are the proper goal of education." ideal vs. real schools at all levels of education purport to give students a traditional education and promise to deliver the solid education of yesteryear. contrast this claim to reality: under the pressure of the market in which they operate, schools maintain that they prepare students for the new pragmatic context. some schools integrate practical disciplines and include training components. courses in computer use come immediately to mind. some schools go so far as to sign contracts guaranteeing the appropriateness of the education they provide. in the tradition of the service industry, they promise to take back pupils unable to meet the standardized criteria. every spring, a reality check is made. in , a poll of graduating seniors revealed that only % succeeded in answering at least of questions asked. five of these were on math, the rest on history and literature-all traditional subject matter. experts called to comment on the results of this poll-e.d. hirsch, author of cultural literacy and active in having his educational ideas implemented; diane ravitch, former assistant secretary of education; and stephen balch, president of the national association of scholars, constitute themselves in the pragmatic framework of literacy-based education. they declare, and appropriately so, that educational standards are declining, that education is failing to produce the type of citizen a democracy needs. as reputable as they undoubtedly are, these scholars, and many of those in charge of education, do not seem to realize what changes have been taking place in the real world. they live in the richest and probably most dynamic country in the world, with one of the lowest unemployment rates, and the highest rate of new business creation, but fail to associate education with this dynamism. if education is failing, then something positive must be replacing it. in modern jargon, one can say that until education is re-engineered (or should i say rethought?), it has no chance of catching up with reality. in its current condition of compromise, education will only continue to muddle along, upsetting both its constituencies: those captive to an education based on the literacy model, and those who recognize new structural requirements. the reality is that the universality implicit in the literacy model of education, reflected in the corpus of democratic principles guaranteeing equality and access, is probably no longer defensible in its original form. education should rather elaborate on notions that better reflect differences among people, their background, ethnicity, and their individual capabilities. instead of trying to standardize, education should stimulate differences in order to derive the most benefit from them. education should stimulate complementary avenues to excellence, instead of equal access to mediocrity. some people may be uneducatable. they might have characteristics impossible to reduce to the common denominator that literacy-based education implies. these students might require alternative education paths in order to optimally become what their abilities allow them to be, and what practical experience will validate as relevant and desired, no matter how different. equal representation, as applied to members of minority students or faculty, ethnic groups, sexes or sexual preferences, and the handicapped, introduces a false sense of democracy in education. it takes away the very edge of their specific chances from the people it pretends to help and encourage. instead of acknowledging distinctions, expectations of equal representation suggest that the more melting in the pot, the better for society, regardless of whether the result is uniform mediocrity or distributed excellence. actually the opposite is true: equal opportunity should be used in order to preserve distinctive qualities and bring them to fruition. as a unified requirement, literacy imparts a sense of conformity and standardization appropriate to the pragmatic framework that made standardized education necessary. numerous alternative means of expression and communication, for which education has only a deaf ear, facilitate the multiplication of choices. in a world confronted with needs well beyond those of survival, this is a source of higher efficiency. the necessary effort to individualize education cannot, however, take place unless the inalienable right to study and work for one's own path to self-improvement is not respected to the same extent as liberty and equality are. the globality of human praxis is not a scenario invented by some entrepreneur. it is the reflection of the scale at which population growth, shared resources, and choices heading to new levels of efficiency become critical. in our world many people never become literate; many more still live at the borderline between human and animal life, threatened by starvation and epidemics. these facts do not contradict the dynamics that made alternatives to literacy necessary. it is appropriate, therefore, to question the type of knowledge that education imparts, and how it impacts upon those who are educated. relevance schools and universities are criticized for not giving students relevant knowledge. the notion of relevance is critical here. scholars claim that knowledge of facts pertaining to tradition, such as those tested in the graduating class of , are relevant. relevant also are elements of logical thinking, enough science in order to understand the wealth of technologies we use, foreign languages, and other subject matter that will help students face the world of practical experience. although the subjects listed are qualified as significant, they are never used in polls of graduating students. critics of the traditional curriculum dispute the relevance of a tradition that seems to exclude more than it includes. they also challenge implicit hierarchical judgments of the people who impose courses of study. multiculturalism, criticism of tradition, and freedom from the pressure of competition are among the recommendations they make. acknowledging the new context of social life and praxis, these critics fail, however, to put it in the broader context of successive structural conditions, and thus lack criteria of significance outside their own field of expertise. with the notion of relevance, a perspective of the past and a direction for the future are suggested. that literacy-based education, at its inception, was xenophobic or racist, and obviously political, nobody has to tell us. individuals from outside the polis, speaking a different mother tongue, were educated for a political reason: to make them useful to the community as soon as possible. conditions for education changed dramatically over time, but the political dimension remains as strong as ever. this is why it can only help to dispense with certain literate attitudes expressing national, ethnic, racial, or similar ambitions. it is irrelevant whether pythagoras was greek and whether his geometry was original with him. it is irrelevant whether one or another person from one or another part of the world can be credited with a literary contribution, a work of art, or a religious or philosophic thought. what counts is how such accomplishments became relevant to the people of the world as they involved themselves in increasingly complex practical experiences. moreover, our own sense of value does not rest on a sports-driven model-the first, the most, the best-but on the challenge posed by how each of us will constitute his own identity in unprecedented circumstances of work, leisure, and feeling. relevance applies to the perspective of the future and to the recognition that experiences of the past are less and less pertinent in the new context. what should be taught? language? math? chemistry? philosophy? the list can go on. it is indeed very hard to do justice by simply nodding yes to language, yes to math, yes to chemistry, but not yes wholesale, without putting the question in the pragmatic context. this means that education should not be approached with the aura of religion, or dogmatism, assumed up to now: the teacher knew what eternal truth was; students heard the lectures and finally received communion. all basic disciplines have changed through time. the rhythm of their change keeps increasing. the current understanding of language, math, chemistry, and philosophy does not necessarily build on a progression. science, for example, is not accumulation. neither is language, contrary to all appearance. rules learned by rote and accepted as invariable are not needed, but procedures for accessing knowledge relevant to our dynamic existence are. to memorize all that education-no matter how good or bad-unloads on students is sheer impossibility. but to know where to find what a given practical instance requires, and how one can use it, is quite a different matter. should square dancing, heavy metal music, bridge, chinese cuisine be taught? the list, to be found in the curriculum of many schools and colleges, goes on and on. the test of the relevance of such disciplines (or subjects) in a curriculum should be based on the same pragmatic criteria that our lives and livelihoods depend on. new subjects of study appear on course lists due to structural changes that make literacy useless in the new pragmatic context. they cannot, however, substitute for an education that builds the power of thinking and feeling for practical experiences of increased complexity and dynamism. education needs to be shaped to the dynamics of self-constitution in practical experiences characteristic of this new age of humankind. this does not mean that education should become another tv program, or an endless internet voyage, without aim and without method. we must comprehend that if we demand literacy and efficiency at the same time, ignoring that they are in many ways incompatible, we can only contribute to greater confusion. higher education was opened to people who merely need training to obtain a skill. these students receive precious-looking diplomas that exactly resemble the ones given to students who have pursued a rigorous course of education. once upon a time, literacy meant the ability to write and read latin. therefore, diplomas are embellished with latin dicta, almost never understood by the graduates, and many times not even by the professors who hand them out. in the spirit of nostalgia, useless rituals are maintained, which are totally disconnected from today's pragmatic framework. the progressively increased mediation that affects efficiency levels also contributes to the multiplication of the number of languages involved in describing, designing, coordinating, and synchronizing human work. we are facing new requirements-those of parallelism, non-linearity, multi-valued logic, vagueness, and selection among options. programming, never subject to wrong or right, but to optimal choice, and always subject to further improvement, is becoming a requirement for many practical experiences, from the arts to advanced science. requirements of globality, distribution, economies of scale, of elements pertinent to engineering, communication, marketing, management, and of service-providing experiences need to be met within specific educational programs. the fulfillment of these requirements can never be relegated to literacy. we have seen that the broader necessity of language, from which the necessity of literacy is derived, is not defensible outside the process of human self-constitution. language plays an important role, together with other sign systems, subordinated to language or not. in retrospect, we gain an understanding of the entire process: natural instincts are transmitted genetically and only slightly improve, if degeneration does not occur, in the interaction among individuals sharing a habitat. the conscious use of signs takes newborns from the domain of nature and eventually places them in the realm of culture. in this realm, life ceases to be a matter of biology only, and takes on non-natural, social and cultural dimensions. to live as an animal is to live for oneself and for very few others (mainly offspring). to live as a human being is to live through the existence of others, and in relation to others. established before us and bound to continue after us, culture absorbs newcomers who not only begin their existence through their parents, but who also get to know culture and to adapt to it, or revolt against it. education starts with the experience of the absent, the non-immediate, the successive. in other words, it implies experiences resulting from comparisons, imitation of actions, and formation of individual patterns corresponding to human biological characteristics. only much later comes the use of language, of adjectives, adverbs, and the generation of conventions and metaphors, some part of the body of literacy, others part of other languages, such as the visual. with the constitution of the family, education begins, and so does another phase in labor division. the initial phase probably marked the transition from a very small scale of nomadic tribal life to the scale within which language settled in notation and eventually in writing. the generality of sequences, words, phonetics, nouns, and actions was reached in the practical experience of writing. the language of drawings, resulting from different experiences and supporting the making of objects, complemented the development of writing. when the scale of humankind corresponding to incipient literacy was reached, literacy became the instrument for imparting experiences coherent with the experience of language and its use. this account is inserted here as a summary for those who, although claiming historic awareness, show no real instinct for history. this summary says that education is the result of many changes in the condition of humankind and makes clear that these alterations continue. they also entail a responsibility to improve the experience of education and re-establish its connection to the broader framework of human activity, instead of limiting education to the requirements of cultural continuity. it has been said, again and again, that what we are we had to learn to become. actually, we are who and what we are through what we do in the context of our individual and social existence. to speak, write, and read means to understand what we say, what we write, and what we read. it is not only the mechanical reproduction of words or sound patterns, which machines can also be programmed to perform. the expectation of speaking, reading, and writing is manifested in all human interactions. to learn how to speak, write, and read means both to gain skills and to become aware of the pragmatic context of interhuman relations that involve speaking, writing, and reading. it also means awareness of the possibility to change this context. to educate today means to integrate others, and in the process oneself, in an activity-oriented process directed towards sharing the knowledge necessary to gain further knowledge. its content cannot be knowledge in general, since the varieties of practical experiences cannot be emulated in school and college. within the pragmatic framework that made literacy possible, it sufficed to know how an engine functioned in order to work with different machines driven by engines. literacy reflected homogeneity and served those constituted as literate in controlling the parameters within which deviations were allowed. the post-industrial experience, based on an underlying digital structure, is so heterogeneous that it is impossible to cope with the many different instances of practical requirements. the skills to orient us towards where to find what we need become more important than the information shared. ownership of knowledge takes a back seat; what counts is access, paralleled by a good understanding of the new nature of human praxis focused on cognition. education should, accordingly, prepare people to handle information, or to direct it to information processing devices. it has to help students develop a propensity for understanding and explaining the variety in which cognition, the raw material of digital engines, results from our experiences. the unity between the various paths we conceive in projecting our own biological reality into the reality of the world housing us and the result of our activity is characteristic of our mental and emotional condition. it defines our thinking and feeling. at some moment in time, after the division between physical and intellectual work took place, this thinking became relatively free of the result. the abstraction of thinking, once attained, corresponds to our ability to be in the process, to be aware of it, to judge it. this is the level of theories. the dynamics of the present affects the status of theories, both the way we shape them and how we communicate them. at least in regard to the communication of theory, but also to some of its generation, it is worthwhile to examine, in the context of our concern with education in this age, the evolution of the university. temples of knowledge education became the institution, the machine of literacy, once the social role of a generalized instrument of communication and coordination was established. this happened simultaneously with the reification of many other forms of human praxis: religion, the judiciary, the military. the first western universities embodied the elitist ideal of literacy in every possible way: exclusivity, philosophy of education, architecture, goals, curriculum, body of professors, body of students, relation to the outside world, religious status. these universities did not care for the crafts, and did not acknowledge apprenticeship. the university, more than schools (in their various forms), extended its influence beyond its walls to assume a leading role in the spiritual lives of the population, while still maintaining an aura about itself. this was not just because of the religious foundation of universities. the university housed important intellectual documents containing theories of science and humanities, and encompassing educational concepts. these documents emphasized the role of a universal education (not only as a reflex of the church's catholic drive) in which fundamental components constructed a temple of knowledge from which theories were dispensed throughout the western world. through its concept and affirmed values, the university was intended as a model for society and as an important participant in its dynamics. tradition, languages (opening direct access to the world of classic philosophy and literature), and the arts were understood in their unity. engineering and anything practical played no part in this. compared to the current situation, those first universities were ahead of their time almost to the effect of losing contact with reality. they existed in a world of advanced ideas, of idealized social and moral values, of scientific innovation celebrated in their metaphysical abstraction. there is no need to transcribe the history of education here. we are mainly interested in the dynamics of education up to the turn of the century, and would like to situate it in the discussion caused by the apparent, or actual, failure of education to accomplish its goals today. when universities were founded, access to education was very limited. this makes comparison to the current situation in universities almost irrelevant. it explains, however, why some people question the presence of students who would not have been accepted in a college a century ago, even years ago. yes, the university is the bearer of prejudices as well as values. the relevance of historic background is provided by the understanding of the formative power of language, of its capacity for storing ideas and ideals associated with permanency, and for disseminating the doctrine of permanency and authority, making it part of the social texture. religion insinuated itself into the sciences and humanities, and assumed the powerful role of assigning meaning to various discoveries and theories. education in such universities was for eternity, according to a model that placed humanity in the center of the universe and declared it exemplary because it originated from the supreme power. the university established continuity through its entire program, and did so on the foundation of literacy. as an organization, it adopted a structure more favorable to integration and less to differentiation. it constituted a counter-power, a critical instrument, and a framework for intellectual practice. although many associate the formula "knowledge is power" with the ideology of the political left, it actually originated in the medieval university, and within conservative power relations for which literacy constituted the underlying structure. looking at the development of the medieval university, one can say that it was the embodiment of the reification of language, of the greek logos and of the roman ratio. the entire history of reifying the past was summarized in the university and projected as a model for the future. alternative ways of thinking and communicating were excluded, or made to fit the language mold and submit, without exception, to the dominating rationality. based on these premises, the university evolved into an institution of methodical doubt. it became an intellectual machine for generating and experimenting with successive alternative explanations of the universe, as a whole, and of its parts, considered similar in some way to the whole they constituted. the circumstances leading to the separation of intellectual and educational tasks were generated by an interplay of factors. the printing press is one of them. the metaphors of the university also played an important role. but the defining element was practical expectations. as people eventually learned, they could not build machines only by knowing latin or greek, or by reciting litanies, but by knowing mathematics and mechanics. some of this knowledge came from greek and latin texts preserved by moslem scholars from the desolation following the fall of the roman empire. people also had to know how to express their goals, and communicate a plan to those who would transform it into roads, bridges, buildings, and much more. humans could not rely on aristotle's explanation of the world in order to find new forms of energy. more physics, chemistry, biology, and geology became necessary. access to such domains was still primarily through literacy, although each of these areas of interest started developing its own language. machines were conceived and built as metaphors of the human being. they embodied an animistic view, while actually answering needs and expectations corresponding to a scale of human existence beyond that of animistic practical experiences. industrial experience, a school of a new pragmatic framework, would impart awareness of creativity and productivity, as well as a new sense of confidence. work became less and less homogeneous, as did social life. once the potential of literacy reached its limits of explaining everything and constituting the only medium for new theories, universities started lagging behind the development of human practice. what separates galileo galilei's physics from the newtonian is less drastic than what separates both from einstein's relativity theory, and all three of these from the rapidly unfolding physics of the cosmos. in the latter, a different scale and scope must be accounted for, and a totally new way of formulating problems must be developed. humans project upon the world cognitive explanatory models for which past instruments of knowledge are not adequate. the same applies to theories in biology, chemistry, and more and more to sociology, economics, and the decision sciences. it is worth noting that scale, and complexity therein, thus constitutes a rather encompassing criterion, one that finally affects the theory and practice of education. coherence and connection education has stubbornly defended its turf. while it fell well behind the expectations of those in need of support for finding their place in the current pragmatic context, a new paradigm of scientific and humanistic investigation was acknowledged- computation. together with experimental and theoretical science, computation stimulated levels at which the twin concerns for intellectual coherence and for the ability to establish connections outside the field of study could be satisfied. computation made it into the educational system without becoming one of education's underlying structures. the late-in-coming technology literacy challenge that will provide two billion dollars by the year acknowledges this situation, though it fails to address it properly. in other countries, the situation is not much better. bureaucracies based on rules of functioning pertinent to past pragmatics are not capable of even understanding the magnitude of change, in which their reason for being disappears. in some colleges and private high schools, students can already access the computer network from terminals in their dormitories. still, in the majority, computing time is limited, and assigned for specific class work, mainly word processing. too many educational outlets have only administrative computers for keeping track of budget execution and enrollment. in most european countries the situation is even worse. and as far as the poor countries of the world are concerned, one can only hope that the disparity will not deepen. if this were the case with electricity, we would hear an uproar. computing should become as pervasive as electricity. this view is not necessarily unanimously accepted. arguments about whether education needs to be computerized or whether computers should be integrated across the board go on and on among educators and administrators with a say in the matter. it should be noticed that failure to provide the appropriate context for teaching, learning, and research affects the condition of universities all over the world. these universities cease to contribute new knowledge. they become instead the darkroom for pictures taken elsewhere, by people other than their professors, researchers, and graduate students. such institutions fathom a relatively good understanding of the past, but a disputable notion of the present and the future, mainly because they are hostages to literacy-based structures of thought and activity, even when they use computers. to function within a language means to share in the experiences which are built into it. natural language has a built-in experience of space and time; programming languages contain experiences of logical inference or of object-oriented functioning of the world. these experiences represent its pre-understanding frame of reference. knowledge built into our so-called natural languages was for a long time common to all human beings. it resulted in communities sharing, through language, the practical experiences through which the community members constituted themselves in space and time. the continuity of language and its permanence reflected continuity of experience and permanence of understanding. within such a pragmatic framework, education and the sharing of experience were minimally differentiated from each other. progressively, language experience was added to practical experience and used to differentiate such an experience in new forms of praxis: theoretic work, engineering, art, social activism, political programs. diversity, incipient segmentation, higher speeds, and incremental mediations affected the condition of self-constitutive human experiences. consequently, literacy progressively ceased to represent the optimal medium for sharing, although it maintains many other functions. indeed, plans for a new building, for a bridge, for engines, for many artifacts cannot be expressed in literate discourse, no matter how high the level, or how well literate competency is served by education or impacts upon it. accelerated dynamics and a generalized practice of mediations, by means not based on literacy, become part of human praxis in the civilization of illiteracy and define a new underlying structure. language preserves a limited function. it is paralleled by many other sign systems, some extremely well adapted to rationalization and automation, and becomes itself subject to integration in machines adept at sign processing (in particular information processing). the process can be exemplified by a limited analogy: in order to explore in depth the experience embodied in homer's texts, one needs a knowledge of ancient greek. in order to study the legal texts of the roman empire, one needs latin, and probably more. but in order to understand algebra-the word comes from the arabic al-jabr/jebr, meaning union of broken parts-one really does not need to be fluent in arabic. literacy embodies a far less significant part of the current human practical experience of self-constitution than it did in the past. still, literacy-based education asserts its own condition on everything: learning what is already known is a prerequisite to discovering the unknown. in examining the amount and kind of knowledge one needs to understand past experience and to make possible further forms of human praxis, we can be surprised. the first surprise is that we undergo a major shift, from forms of work and thinking fundamentally based on past experience to realms of human constitution that do not repeat the past. rather, such new experiences negate it altogether, making it relatively irrelevant. freed from the past, people notice that sometimes the known, expressed in texts, obliterates a better understanding of the present by introducing a pre-understanding of the future that prevents new and effective human practical experiences. the second surprise comes from the realization that means other than those based on literacy better support the current stage of our continuous self- constitution, and that these new means have a different underlying structure. searle, among many others, remarked that, "like it or not, the natural sciences are perhaps our greatest single intellectual achievement as human beings, and any education that neglects this fact is to that extent defective." what is not clearly stated is the fact that sciences emerged as such achievements once the ancillary relation to language and literacy was overcome. mathematization of science and engineering, the focus on computational knowledge, the need to address design aspects of human activity (within sociology, business, law, medicine, etc.), all belong to alternative modes of explanation that make literate speculation less and less effective. they also opened new horizons for hypotheses in astronomy, genetics, anthropology. cognitive skills are required in the new pragmatic context together with meta-cognitive skills: how to control one's own learning, for example, in a world of change, variety, distributed effort, mediated work, interconnection, and heterogeneity. we do not yet know how to express and quantify the need for education, how to select the means and criteria for evaluating performance. if the objective is only to generate attitudes of respect for tradition and to impart good manners and some form of judgment, then the result is the emulation of what we think the past celebrated in a person. in the usa, the bill for education, paid by parents, students, and private and public sources, is well over billion dollars a year. in the national budget alone, different categories of grants-programs for building basic and advanced skills in , schools, programs for safe and drug-free schools, programs for acquiring advanced technology, scholarships, and support for loans-quantify the federal part of the sum. state and local agencies have their own budgets allowing for $ , to $ , per student. if a class of students is supported by $ , of funding, something in the equation of financing education does not add up. the return on investment is miserable by all accounts. knowing that close to one million students drop out each year-and the number is growing-at various stages of their education, and that to reclaim them would cost additional money, we add another detail to the picture of a failure that is no longer admissible. in other countries, the cost per person is different. in a number of countries (france, germany, italy, some countries in eastern europe), students attend school years beyond what is considered normal in the usa. germany discusses, forever it seems, the need to cut schooling. are or years of schooling sufficient? how long should the state support a student in the university? with the reunification of the country, new needs had to be addressed: qualified teachers, adequate facilities, financing. japan, while maintaining a -grade system, requires more days of schooling ( per year compared to in germany and in the usa). france, which regulates even pre-school, maintains years of education. still, % of french students commit errors in using their language. when, almost years ago, richelieu introduced (unthinkable for the american mentality) the académie française as the guardian of the language, little did he know that a time would come when language, french or any other, would no longer dominate people's life and work, and would not, despite money invested and time spent to teach, make all who study literate. the new pragmatic context requires an education that results in abilities to distinguish patterns in a world of extreme dynamism, to question, to cope with complexity as it affects one's practical existence, and with a continuum of values. students know from their own experience that there is no intrinsic determination to the eternity and universality of language-and this is probably the first shock one faces when noticing how large illiterate populations function and prosper in modern society. the economy absorbed the majority of the dropout population. the almost % of the american population considered functionally illiterate partakes, in its majority, in the high standard of living of the country. in other countries, while the numbers are different, the general tenor is the same. well versed in the literacy of consumption, these people perform exactly the function expected: keep the economic engine turning. plenty of questions industrial society, as a precursor to our pragmatic framework, needed literacy in order to get the most out of machines, and to preserve the physical and intellectual capability of the human operator. it invested in education because the return was high enough to justify it. a qualified worker, a qualified physician, chemist, lawyer, and businessman represented a necessity for the harmonious functioning of industrial society. one needed to know how to operate one machine. chances were that the machine would outlast the operator. one needed to study a relatively stable body of knowledge (laws, medical prescriptions, chemical formulas). chances were that one and the same book would serve father, son, even grandson. and what could not be disseminated through literacy was taught by example, through the apprenticeship system, from which engineering profited a lot. what education generated were literate people, and members of a society prepared for relations without which machines made little or no sense at all. the more complex such relations, the longer the time needed for education, and the higher the qualifications required from those working as educators. education ensured the transmission of knowledge, filling empty containers sent by parents, from settled families, as incoming students to schools and colleges. industrial society simultaneously generated the products and the increased need for them. some would argue that all this is not so simple. industrialists did not need educated workers. that is why they transferred a lot of work to children and women. reformists (probably influenced by religious humanism) insisted on taking children out of the factories. children were taught to read in order to uplift their souls (as the claim went). finally, laws were enacted that forbade child labor. as this happened, industry got what it needed: a relatively educated class of workers and higher levels of productivity from employment that used the education provided. under the right pragmatic conditions, an educated worker proved to be a good investment. alan bloom detailed many of the motives that animated industrial philanthropists in supporting education. i beg to differ and return to the argument that industrial society, in order to use the potential of machine production, had to generate the need for what it produced. indeed, the first products are the workers themselves, projecting into machine-based praxis their physical attributes, but foremostly skills such as comprehension, interaction, coordination. all these attributes belong to the structural condition of literacy. industrial products resulting from qualitatively new forms of human self- constitution were of accidental or no interest to illiterates. what would an illiterate do with products, such as new typewriters, books, more sophisticated household appliances? how would an illiterate interact with them in order to get the most out of each artifact? and how could coordination with others using such new products take place? we know that things were not exactly divided along such clear-cut borders. illiterate parents had literate children who provided the necessary knowledge. the trickle-down effect was probably part of the broader strategy. but all in all, the philanthropists' support of education was an investment in the optimal functioning of a society whose scale necessitated levels high enough for efficient work. education was connected to philanthropy, and it still is, as a form of wealth distribution. but it is not love for the neighbor that makes philanthropists' support of education necessary, rather the sheer advantage resulting from money given, estate or machines donated, chairs endowed. cynical or not, this view results from the perception one experiences when noticing how generosity, well supported by public money, ends up as a self-serving gesture: donations that resulted in buildings, scholarships, endowments, and gifts named after the benefactor. the obsession with permanence-some live it as an obsession with eternity, others as a therapeutic ego massage-is but one of the overhead costs associated with literacy. lines from the prologue to the canterbury tales come to mind: "now isn't it a marvel of god's grace/that an illiterate fellow can outpace/the wisdom of a heap of learned men?" how a manciple (probably equivalent to a residence life administrator and cafeteria head combined) would perform today is worth another tale. education, as a product of the civilization of literacy, has problems understanding that literacy corresponds to a development in which written language was the medium for the spoken. nevertheless, it did learn that today we can store the spoken in non-written form, sometimes more efficiently, and without the heavy investment required to maintain literacy. as an industry, with the special status of a not-for-profit organization, education in the usa competes in the market for its share, and for high returns. endowments qualify many universities as large businesses that are buffered from the reality of economics. with or without the aid of philanthropy, learning has to free itself from its subordination to literacy and restrictive literate structures, as it previously freed itself from its subordination to the church, in whose bosom it was nurtured. obviously, if this new awareness manifests itself only in mailing out videotapes instead of printed college catalogues, then we may ask whether it is educators, or only marketers, who understand the current dynamics. the same should be asked when some professors put their courses on tape, in the belief that canned knowledge is easier for the student to absorb. on-line classes break with the mold, but they are not yet the answer, at least as long as they do not belong to a broader vision reflected in different priorities and appropriate content. there is nothing intrinsically bad about involving media in education, but the problem is not the medium for storage and delivery. media labs that are covered by dust because they convey the same useless information as the classes they were supposed to enhance only prove that a fundamental change is necessary. fundamental, for instance, is the skewed notion that knowledge is transferred from professors-who know more-to students-who know less. actually, we face a reality never before experienced: students know more than their teachers, in some disciplines. in addition, knowledge still appropriate to a subject a short time ago-call it history, politics, or economics, and think about classes in soviet and east european studies- has been rendered useless. physics, mathematics, and chemistry underwent spectacular renewal. this created situations in which what the textbooks taught was immediately contradicted by reality. should education compete with the news media? should it become an internet address for unlimited and unstructured browsing? should education give up any sense of foundation? or should universities periodically refresh their genetic make-up in order to maintain contact with the most recent theories, the most recent research techniques, the most recent discoveries? these are more than enough questions for a pen still writing one word at a time, or for a mouth answering questions as they pile up. without posing these questions-to which some answers will be attempted at the conclusion of this book-no solution can be expected. the willingness of educators and everyone affected by education to formulate them, and many more, would bear witness to a concern that cannot be addressed by some miraculous, all-encompassing formula. the good news is that in many parts of the world this is happening. finally! the equation of a compromise as the scale of humankind changed, and the efficiency of human practical experience corresponding to the scale ascertained itself as the new rationality, the practical experience of self-constitution had to adjust to new circumstances of existence and activity. there is no magic borderline. but there is a definite discontinuity between what constituted the relatively stable underlying structure of literacy and what constitutes the fast-changing underlying structure of the pragmatic framework. because in our own self-constitution literacy is only one among many media for achieving the efficiency that the new scale requires, we come to realize, even if public discourse does not exactly reflect it, that we cannot afford literacy the way we have until now. and even if we could, we should not. people recognize, even if only reluctantly, that the literacy machine, for some reason still called education, endows the new generation with a skill of limited significance. the resulting perspective is continuously contradicted by the ever new and ever renewing human experiences through which we become who we are. education based on the paradigm of literacy is, as we have seen, a luxury which a society, rich or poor, cannot afford. conditions of human life and praxis require, instead of a skill and perspective for the whole of life, a series. skill and perspective need to be understood together. their application will probably be limited in time, and not necessarily directly connected to those succeeding them. nobody seriously disputes the relevance of studying language, but very few see language and language-based disciplines as the prerequisite for the less than life-long series of different jobs students of today will have. although colleges maintain a core curriculum that preserves the role of language and the humanities, the shift towards the languages of mathematics-a discipline that has diversified spectacularly-and of visual representation is so obvious that one can only wonder why the voices of mathematicians are not heard over those of the modern language association. mathematics prepares for fields from technical to managerial, from scientific to philosophic, and from design to legal. the realization that calculus is first of all a language, and that the goal of education is fluency in it, corresponds to an awareness that musicians had for the longest time with respect to musical scores, but the champions of literacy always refused to accept. the same holds true for the disciplines of visualization: drawing, computer graphics, design. in today's education, the visual needs to be studied at least as much as language-dependent subjects. against the background of deeper changes, education is focusing on its on redefinition. the major change is from a container model of education-the child being the empty container who needs to be filled with language, history, math, and not much more-to a heuristic education. our pragmatics is one of process, as the pragmatics of education finally should be. education needs to be conducive to interaction and to the formation of criteria for choices from among many options. but change does not come easily. still using the impertinence of literacy, some educators call the container model "teaching students to think." they do not realize that students think whether we teach them to or not! students of all ages are aware of change, and familiar with modes of interaction, among themselves and with technology, closer to their condition than to that of their teachers. the majority of the new businesses on the internet are instigated by students and supported by their inventiveness and dedication. they have became agents of change in spite of all the shortcomings of education. and students have become educators themselves, offering environments for conveying their own experience. to be a child no one can declare better ways of teaching without considering the real child. in a world of choice and free movement, children are more likely to come from families that will consist of a single parent. many children will come from environments where discrimination, poverty, prejudice, and violence have an overpowering influence. such an environment is significant for a society dedicated to democratic ideals. we have to face the fact that childrearing and education are being transferred from family to institutions meant to produce the educated person. with the best of motives, society has created factories for processing children. these socio-educational entities are accepted quite obligingly by the majority of the people freed from a responsibility affecting their own lives. "everything will be fine, as long as the education of the new generation basically repeats the education of the parents," sums up the expectations regarding these institutions. although we know that, generally speaking, cycles (of production, design, and evaluation) are getting shorter, we maintain children in education well past the time they even fit in classroom chairs. one needs to see those adults forced to be students, full of energy, frustrated that their patience, not their creative potential, is put to the test. dropping out of high school or college is not indicative of a student's immaturity. society's tendency to decide what is best for the next generation has determined that only one type of education will ensure productive adults. society refuses to consider humans in the variety of their potential. from the projection of education statistics to the year , we learn that the total private and public elementary and secondary school enrollment in the usa will increase from . million in to . million. of the . million in , only . million graduated high school, and by the year the number will not exceed million. students themselves seem to be more aware of the excessively long cycle of education than do the experts who define its methods, contents, and goals. this creates a basis for conflict that no one should underestimate. growing up in an environment of change and challenge is probably rewarding in the long run. but things are not very simple. the pressure to perform, peer pressure, and one's youthful instincts to explore and ascertain can transform a student's life in an instant. the distance between paradise (support and choice without worry) and hell (the specter of disease, addiction, abandonment, disappointment, lack of direction) is also shorter than prior generations experienced it. hundreds of tv channels, the internet, thousands of music titles (on cd, video, and radio stations), the lure of sports, drugs, sex, and the hundreds of fashion labels-choosing can be overwhelming. literacy used to organize everything neatly. if you were in love, romeo and juliet was proper reading material. if you wished to explore greece, you started with homer's epics and worked your way up to the most recent novel by a contemporary greek writer. the problem is that drugs, aids, millions of attractions, the need to find one's way in a world less settled and less patient, do not fit in the neat scheme of literacy. the language of genetics and the language of personality constitution are better articulated through means other than books. heroes, teachers, parents, priests, and activists are no longer icons, even if they are portrayed to be better than they were in reality. bart simpson, the underachiever, "mediocre and proud of it," is a model for everyone who is told that what really counts is to feel good, period. still, some young people go to school or college full of enthusiasm, hoping to get an education that will guarantee self-fulfillment. all that is studied, over a long period of time and at great financial sacrifice, comes not even close to what they will face. tehy might learn how to spell and how to add. but they soon discover that in real life skills other than spelling and arithmetic are expected. what bigger disappointment is there than discovering that years of pursing a promise bring no result? if, after all this, we still want both literacy and competence for experiences which literacy does not support, and often inhibits, we would have to invest beyond what society is willing and able to spend. and even if society were to do so, as it seems that it feels it must, the investment would be in imposing useless skills and a primitive perspective on the new generation, until the time comes when it can escape society's pressure. education in our day remains a compromise between the interests of the institution of education (with tens of thousands of teachers who would become unemployed) and a new pragmatic framework that few in academia understand. one of the elements of this equation is the practical need to extend education to all, and if possible on a continuous basis. but unless this education reflects the variety of literacies that the pragmatic framework requires, admitting everyone to everything results in the lowest general level of education. the variety of practical experiences of self-constitution requires that we find ways to coordinate access to education by properly and responsibly identifying types of creativity, and investing responsibility in their development. continuous education needs to be integrated in the work structure. it has to become part of the reciprocal commitments through which the new pragmatic framework is acknowledged. to all those dedicated to the human aspects of politics, business, law, and medicine, who deplore that the technicians of policy-making can no longer find their way to our souls, all this will sound terrifying. nevertheless, as much as we would like to be considered as individuals, each with our own dignity, personality, opinions, emotions, and pains, we ourselves undermine our expectations in our striving for more and more, at a price lower than what it costs society to distinguish us. scale dictates anonymity, and probably mediocrity. ignorance of literacy's role in centuries of productive human life dictates that it is time to unload the literacy-reflected experiences for which there is no reference in the new pragmatic context. who are we kidding? scared that in giving up literacy training we commit treason to our own condition, we maintain literacy and try to adapt it to new circumstances of working, thinking, feeling, and exploring. in view of the inefficiency built into our system of education, we try to compromise by adding the dimension characteristic of the current status of human experience of multiple partial literacies. the result is the transformation of education into a packaging industry of human beings: you choose the line along which you want to be processed; we make sure that you get the literacy alibi, and that we train you to be able to cope with so-called entry-level jobs. obviously, this evolves in a more subtle way. the kind of college or university one attends, or the tuition one pays, determines the amount of subtlety. students accept the function of education insofar as it mediates between their goals and the rather scary reality of the marketplace. this mediation differs according to the level of education, and is influenced by political and social decision making. as an industry for processing the new generation, education acts according to parameters resulting from its opportunistic search for a place between academia and reality. education acknowledges the narrow domains of expertise which labor division brought about, and reproduces the structure of current human experience in its own structure. through vast financial support, from states, private sources, and tradition- based organizations, education is artificially removed from the reality of expected efficiency. it is rarely a universe of commitments. accordingly, the gap between the literate language of the university and the languages of current human practice widens. the tenure system only adds another structural burden. when the highest goal of a professor is to be freed of teaching, something is awfully wrong with our legitimate decision to guarantee educators the freedom necessary for exercising their profession. behind the testing model that drives much of current education is the expectation of effective ranking of students. this model takes a literate approach insofar as it establishes a dichotomy (aptitude vs. achievement) that makes students react to questions, but does not really engage them or encourage creative contributions. the result is illustrative of the relation between what we do and how we evaluate what we do. an expectation was set, and the process of education was skewed to generate good test results. this effectively eliminates teaching and learning for the sake of a subject. students are afraid they will not measure up and demand to be taught by the book. teachers who know better than the book are intimidated, by students and administration, from trying better approaches. good students are frustrated in their attempts to define their own passion and to pursue it to their definition of success. entrepreneurs at the age of , they do not need the feedback of stupid tests, carried out more for the sake of bureaucracy than for their well-being. standardized tests dominated by multiple-choice answers facilitate low cost evaluations, but also affect patterns of teaching and learning. exactly what the new pragmatics embodies-the ability to adapt and to be proactive-is counteracted through the experience of testing, and the teaching geared to multiple-choice instruments. the uncoupling of education from the experiential frame of the human being is reflected in education's language and organization, and in the limiting assumptions about its function and methods. education has become a self-serving organization with a bureaucratic "network of directives," as winograd and flores call them, and motivational elements not very different from the state, the military, and the legal system. like the organizations mentioned, it also develops networks of interaction with sources of funding and sources of power, some driven by the same self-preserving energies as education itself. instead of reflecting shorter cycles of activity in its own structure, it tends to maintain control over the destiny of students for longer periods of time. even in fields of early acknowledged creativity-e.g., computer programming, networking, genetics, and nanotechnology-education continues to apply a policy that takes away the edge of youth, inventiveness, and risk. the lowest quality of education is at the undergraduate level in universities, where either graduate assistants or even machines substitute for professors too busy funding their research, or actually no longer attuned to teaching. this situation exists exactly because we are not yet able to develop strategies of education adapted to new circumstances of human work and to the efficiency requirements which we ourselves made necessary. the "network of recurrent conversations," to use winograd's terminology again, or the "language game" that wittgenstein attributed to each profession, hides behind the front of literacy and thus burdens education. once accreditation introduces the language game of politics, education distances itself even more from its fundamental mission. accreditation agencies translate concerns about the quality of education into requirements, such as the evaluation of colleges and universities based on scores on exit tests taken by students. these are supposed to reflect academic achievement. in other cases, such scores are used for assessing financial support. the paradox is that what negatively affects the quality of education becomes the measure of reward. test results are often used in politicians' arguments about improved education, as well as a marketing tool. in fact, to prepare students for performance makes performance a goal in itself. thus it should come as no surprise that the most popular book on college campuses-today's education factories-is a guide to cheating. many times comparisons are made between students in the usa and in japan or in western european countries. in many ways these comparisons are against the pervasive dynamics of integration that we experience. still, there are things to consider-for instance, that japanese students spend almost the same amount of time watching tv as american students do, and that they are not involved in household tasks. noticeable differences are in reading. the japanese spend double the number of hours that american students do in reading. japanese students spend more time on schoolwork (the same -to- ratio), but much less on entertainment. should japan be considered a model? if we see that japanese students rank among the best in science subjects, the answer seems to be positive. but if we project the same against the entire development of students, their exceptional creative achievements, the answer becomes a little more guarded. with all its limitations, the usa is still more attuned to pragmatic requirements. this is probably due more to the country's inherent dynamics than to its educational institutions. largely unregulated, capable of adaptive moves, subject to innovation, the usa is potentially a better network for educational possibilities. what caused the criticism in these pages of evaluation is the indecisiveness that the usa shows-the program for school reform for the year is an example of this attitude-and the difficulty it has in realizing the price of the compromise it keeps supporting. once japanese businesses started buying american campuses, the price of the compromise became clear. universities in the usa were saved from bankruptcy. japanese schools, whose structured programs and lack of understanding of the new pragmatics made for headlines, were able to evade their own rigid system of education, reputed for being late in acknowledging the dynamics of change. abruptly, the americanization of world education-study driven by multiple-choice tests with a dualistic structure-was short-changed by a japanization movement. but in the closer look suggested above, it is evident that the japanese are extricating themselves from drastic literacy requirements that end up hampering necessary accommodations in the traditional japanese system of values. although caution is called for, especially in approaching a subject foreign to our direct experience and understanding, the trend expressed is telling in its many consequences. what about alternatives? a legitimate question to be expected from any sensible reader refers to alternatives. let us first notice that, due to the new pragmatic framework, we are more and more in the situation to disseminate every and any type of information to any imaginable destination. the interconnectivity of business and of markets creates the global economy. in contrast, our school and college systems, as separate from real life, and conceived physically outside our universe of existence, are probably as anachronistic as the castles and palaces we associate with the power and function of nobility; or as anachronistic as the high stacks of steel mills we associate with industry, and the cities we associate with social life. some alumni might be nostalgic for the gothic structures of their university days. the physical reference to a time "when education meant something" is clear-as is the memory of the campus, yet another good reason to look at the homecoming party in anticipation of the football game, or in celebration of a good time (win or lose). to make explicit the shift from a symbolism of education, coordinated with the function of intellectual accomplishment, to a stage when debunking this symbolism, still alive in and outside ivy league universities, is an urgent political and practical goal is only the beginning. there is no justification for maintaining outmoded structures and attitudes, and investing in walls and campuses and feudal university domains. as one of the successful entrepreneurs of this time put it, "anything that has to do with brick and mortar and its display is-to use some poetic license-dead." the focus has to be on the dynamics of individual self-constitution, and on the pragmatic horizons of everyone's future. fixing and maintaining schools in the usa, as well as in almost any country in the world, would cost more than building them from scratch. the advantage of giving up structures inappropriate to the new requirements of education is that, finally, at least we would create environments for interaction, taking full advantage of the progress made in technologies of communication and interactive learning. there is no need to idealize the internet and the world wide web at their current stage. but if the future will continue to be defined more by commerce expectations than by educational needs, no one should be surprised that their educational potential will come to fruition late. humans do not develop at the same pace, and in the same direction. each of us is so different that the main function of education should be not to minimize differences through literacy and literacy-based strategies that support a false sense of democracy, but to identify and maximize differences. this will provide the foundation for an education that allows each student to develop according to possibilities evinced through the relations, language-based or not, that people enter into. the content of education, understood as process, should be the experience, and the associated means of creating and understanding it. instead of a dominant language, with built-in experiences more and more alien to the vast majority of students, the ability to cope with many sign systems, with many languages, to articulate them, adapt them to the circumstance, and share them as much as the circumstance requires, should become the goal. some would counter, "this was attempted with courses labeled modern math and resulted in no one's understanding it, or even simple math." there is some truth in this. the mathematically gifted had no problem in learning the new math. students who were under the influence of literate reasoning had problems. what we need to do is to keep the mind open, allow for as much accumulation as necessary, and for discarding, if new experiences demand an open mind and freedom from previous assumptions. some students will settle (in math or in other subjects) for predominantly visual signs, others for sounds, some for words, for rhythm, for any of the forms through which human intelligence comes to expression. interactive multimedia are only some of the many media available. other possibilities are yet to emerge. the internet is in the same situation. a framework for individual selection, for tapping into learning resources and using them to the degree desired and acknowledged as necessary by praxis, would be the way to go. not only literacy, in the accepted sense, but mathematical literacy, biological, chemical, or engineering literacy, and visual thinking and expression should be given equal consideration. cross-pollination among disciplines traditionally kept in isolation will definitely enhance creativity by doing away with the obsessive channeling practiced nowadays. education needs to shift from the atomistic view that isolates subjects from the whole of reality to a holistic perspective. this will acknowledge types of mediation as effective means of increasing the efficiency of work, the requirements of integration, and the distributed nature of practical experiences in the world today. collaborative effort needs to be brought to the forefront of the educational experience. we can define communities of interest, focused on some body of experience (which can be incorporated in an artifact, a book, a work of art, or someone's expertise). education should provide means for sharing experiences. a variety of different interests can be brought into focus through sharing and collaborative learning. there are many dimensions to such an approach: the knowledge sought, the experience of the variety of perspectives and uses, the awareness of interaction, the skills for intercommunication, and more. implicit is the high expectation of sharing, while at the same time maintaining motivations for individual achievement and individual reward. this becomes critical at a time when it becomes more and more evident that resources are finite, while expectations still grow exponentially. the change from a standardized model, focused on the quick fix that leads to results (no matter how high a cost), to the collaborative model of individuality and distinction re-establishes an ethical framework, which is urgently needed. competition is not excluded, but instead of conflict-which in the given system results in students who cut pages from books so that their colleagues will fail-we ought to create an environment of reciprocally advantageous cooperation. how far are we from such an objective? in the words of jacques barzun, a devoted educator committed to literacy, education failed to "develop native intelligence." in an interesting negative of what people think education accomplishes, he points to the appearance of success: "we professed to make ideal citizens, super-tolerant neighbors, agents of world peace, and happy family folk, at once sexually adept and flawless drivers of cars." all this is nothing to be ashamed of, but as educational goals, they are quite off the target. citizenship in the society of the new pragmatic context is different from citizenship in previous societies. tolerance requires a new way to manifest it, such as the integration of what is different and complementary. peace, yes, even peace, means a different state of affairs at a time when many local conflicts affect the world. as far as family, sex, and the culture of the car are concerned, nothing can point more to the failure of education. indeed, education failed to understand all the factors involved in contemporary family life. it failed to understand sexual relations. faced with the painful reality of the degradation of sexual relations, education resorted to the desperate measure of dispensing condoms, an extension of what was gloriously celebrated as sex education. the flawless drivers never heard the criticism voiced by citizens concerned with energy waste. we made students rely on cheap gasoline and affordable cars to bring them to school and college, instead of understanding that education needs to be decentralized, distributed, and-why not-adapted to the communication and interaction possibilities of our times. the green teens who are active against energy waste might be well ahead of their educational system, but still forced to go through it. moreover, education should be seen in the broader context of the other changes coming with the end of the civilization of literacy: the status of family, religion, law, and government. while education is related to the civic status of the individual, the new conditions for the activity of our minds are also very important. ideally, education addresses all the facets of the human being. new conditions of generalized interconnection almost turn the paradigm of continuing education into continuous education that corresponds to changes in human experience unfolding under even more complex circumstances. it might well happen that for some experiences, we shall have to recuperate values characteristic of literacy. but better to rediscover them than to maintain literacy as an ideal when the perspectives for new forms of ascertaining ourselves as human beings require more, much more, than literacy. book four language and the visual photography, film, and television have changed the world more than gutenberg's printing press. much of the blame for the decline in literacy is attributed to them, especially to movies and television. more recently, computer games and the internet have been added to the list of culprits. studies have been conducted all over the world with the aim of discovering how film and television have changed established reading habits, writing ability, and the use and interpretation of language. patterns of publishing and distribution of information, including electronic publication and the world wide web (still in its infancy), have also been analyzed on a comparative basis. inferences have been drawn concerning the influence of various types of images on what is printed and why, as well as on how writing (fiction, science, trade books, manuals, poetry, drama, even correspondence) has changed. in some countries, almost every home has a television set; in others even more than one. in , the number of computers sold surpassed that of television sets. in many countries, most children watch television and films before they learn to read. in a few countries, children play computer games before ever opening a book. after they start to read, the amount of time spent in front of a tv set is far greater than the time dedicated to books. adults, already the fourth and fifth generations of television viewers, are even more inclined to images. some images are of their choice-tv programs at home, movies in the theater, videotapes they buy, rent, or borrow from the library, cd-roms. other images are imposed on the adult generations by demands connected to their professions, their health, their hobbies, and by advertisement. after image-recording and playing equipment became widely available, the focus on tv and video expanded. in addition to the ability to bring home films of one's choice, to buy and rent videotapes, laser discs, and cd-roms on a variety of subjects, we are also able to produce a video archive for family, school, community, or professional purposes. we can even avail ourselves of cable tv to generate programs of local interest. the generalized system of networking (cable, satellites, airwaves), through which images can be pumped from practically any location into schools, homes, offices, and libraries, affects even further the relation of children and adults among themselves and the relation of both groups to language and to literacy in contemporary life. anyone with access to the printing presses of the digital world can print a cd-rom. access to the internet is no more expensive than a magazine subscription. but the internet is much more exciting because we are not only at the receiving end. the subject, as almost all have perceived and analyzed it, is not the impact of visual technology and computers on reading patterns, or the influence of new media on how people write. at the core of the development described so far is the fundamental shift from one dominant sign system, called language, and its reified form, called literacy, to several sign systems, among which the visual plays a dominant role. we would certainly fail to understand what is happening, what the long-lasting consequences of the changes we face are, and what the best course of action is, if we were to look only at the influence of technology. understanding the degree of necessity of the technology in the first place is where the focus should be. the obsession with symptoms, characteristic of industrial pragmatics, is not limited to mechanics' shops and doctors' offices. new practical experiences within the scale of humankind that result in the need for alternatives to language confirm that the focus cannot be on television and computer screens, nor on advertisement, electronic photography, and laser discs. the issue is not cd-rom, digital video, internet and the world wide web, but the need to cope with complexity. and the goal is to achieve higher levels of efficiency corresponding to the needs and expectations of the global scale that humankind has reached. so far, very few of those who study the matter have resisted the temptation to fasten blame on television watching or on the intimidating intrusion of electronic and digital contraptions for the decline of literacy. it is easier to count the hours children spend watching tv-an average of , hours in comparison to , hours for study before graduation from high school-than to see why such patterns occur. and it is as easy to conclude that by the time these children can be served alcohol in a restaurant or buy it in stores, they will have seen well over a million commercials. yet no one ever acknowledges new structures of work and communication, even less the unprecedented wealth of forms of human interaction, regardless of how shallow they are. that particular ways of working and living have for all practical purposes disappeared, is easily understood. understanding why requires the will to take a fresh look at necessary developments. some of today's visual sign systems originate in the civilization of literacy: advertisement, theatrical and para-theatrical performance, and television drama. they carry with them efficiency expectations typical of the machine age. other visual sign systems transcend the limits of literacy: concrete poetry, happening, animation, performance games that lead to interactive video, hypermedia or interactive multimedia, virtual reality, and global networks. within such experiences, a different dynamics and a focus on distinctions, instead of on homogeneity, are embedded. most of these experiences originate in the practical requirement to extend the human being's experiential horizon, and the need to keep pace with the dynamics of global economy. how many words in a look? in a newspaper industry journal (printers' ink, ), fred r. barnard launched what would become over time a powerful slogan: "one look is worth a thousand words." to make his remark sound more convincing, he later reformulated it as "one picture is worth a thousand words," and called it a proverb from china. few slogans were repeated and paraphrased more than this one. barnard wanted to draw people's attention to the power of images. it took some years until the new underlying structure of our continuous practical self-constitution confirmed an observation made slightly ahead of its time. it should be added that, through the millennia, craftsmen and the forerunners of engineering used images to design artifacts and tools, and to plan and build cities, monuments, and bridges. they realized through their own experience how powerful images could be, although they did not compare them to words. images are more concrete than words. the concreteness of the visual makes images inappropriate for describing other images. however, it does not prevent human beings from associating images with the most abstract concepts they develop in the course of their practical or theoretical experience. words start by being relatively close to what they denote, and end up so far removed from the objects or actions they name that, unless they are generated together with an object or action (like the word calculator, from calculae, stones for counting), they seem arbitrary. reminiscences of the motivation of words (especially onomatopoeic qualities, i.e., phonetic resemblance to what the word refers to, such as crack or whoosh) do not really affect the abstract rules of generating statements, or even our understanding of such language signs. images are more constrained, more directly determined by the pragmatic experience in whose framework they are generated. red as a word (with its equivalencies in other languages: rot in german, rouge in french, rojo in spanish, in japanese, adom in hebrew, and in russian) is arbitrary in comparison to the color it designates. even the designation is quite approximate. in given experiential situations, many nuances can be distinguished, although there are no names for them. the red in an image is a physical quality that can be measured and standardized, hence made easier to process in photography, printing, and synthesis of pigments. in the same experiential framework, it can be associated with many objects or processes: flowers, blood, a stoplight, sunset, a flag. it can be compared to them, it can trigger new associations, or become a convention. once language translates a visual sign, it also loads it with conventions characteristic of language-red as in revolution, cardinal red, redneck, etc.-moving it from the realm of its physical determination (wavelength, or frequency of oscillation) to the reality of cultural conventions. these are preserved and integrated in the symbolism of a community. purely pictorial signs, as in chinese and japanese writing, relate to the structure of language, and are culturally significant. no matter to which extent such pictorial signs are refined-and indeed, characters in chinese and kanji are extremely sophisticated- they maintain a relation to what they refer to. they extend the experience of writing, especially in calligraphic exercise, in the experience conveyed. we can impose on images-and i do not refer only to chinese ideograms-the logic embodied in language. but once we do, we alter the condition of the image and transform it into an illustration. language, in its embodiment in literacy, is an analytic tool and supports analytic practice quite well. images have a dominantly synthetic character and make for good composite tools. synthesizing activities, especially designing, an object, a message, or a course of action, imply the participation of images, in particular powerful diagramming and drawing. language describes; images constitute. language requires a context for understanding, in which classes of distribution are defined. images suggest such a context. given the individual character of any image, the equivalent of a distributional class for a language simply does not exist. to look at an image, for whatever practical or theoretical purpose, means to relate to the method of the image, not to its components. the method of an image is an experience, not a grammar applied to a repertory, or the instantiation of rules of grammar. the power of language consists of its abstract nature. images are strong through their concreteness. the abstraction of language results from sharing vocabulary and grammar; the abstraction of images, from sharing visual experience, or creating a context for new experiences. for as long as visual experience was confined to one's limited universe of existence, as in the case of the migrating tribes, the visual could not serve as a medium for anything beyond this changing universe of existence. language resulted from the need to surpass the limitations of space and time, to generate choices. the only viable alternative adopted was the abstract image of the phonetic convention, which was easier to carry from one world to another, as, for instance, the phoenicians did. each alphabet is a condensed visual testimony to experiences in the meanwhile uncoupled from language and its concrete practical motivations. writing visualizes language; reading brings the written language back to its oral life, but in a tamed version. whether the sumerian, aramaic, hebrew, greek, arabic, latin, or slavic alphabet, the letters are not neutral signs for abstract phonetic language. they summarize visual experiences and encode rules of recognition; they are related to anthropologic experience and to cognitive processes of abstracting. the mysticism of numbers and their meta-physical meanings, of letters and combinations of letters and numbers, of shapes, symmetry, etc. are all present. with alphabets and numbers the abstract nature of visual representation took over the phonetic quality of language. the concreteness of pictorial representation, along with the encoded elements (what is the experience behind a letter? a number? a certain way of writing?), simply vanished for the average literate (or illiterate) person. this is part of the broader process of acculturation-that is, breaking through experiences of language. experts in alphabets show us the levels at which the image of each letter constituted expressive levels significant in themselves. nevertheless, their alphabetic literacy is as relevant to writing as much as a good description of the various kinds of wheels is relevant to the making and the use of automobiles. the current use of images results from the new exigencies of human praxis and developments in visualization technology. in previous chapters, some of these conditions were mentioned: . the global scale of our activity and existence; . the diversity made possible by the practical experiences corresponding to this globality; . the dynamics of ever faster, increasingly mediated, human interaction; . the need to optimize human interaction in order to achieve high levels of efficiency; . the need to overcome the arcane stereotypes of language; . the non-linear, non-sequential, open nature of human experiences brought to the fore through the new scale of humankind. the list is open-ended. the more our command of images improves, the more arguments in favor of their use. none of these arguments should be construed as a blank and non-critical endorsement of images. we know that we cannot pursue theoretic work exclusively with images, or that the meta-level (language about language) cannot be reached with images. images are factual, situational, and unstable. they also convey a false sense of democracy. moreover, they materialize the shift from a positivist conception of facts, dominating a literacy-based determinism, to a relativist conception of chaotic functioning, embodied, for instance, by the market or by the new means and methods of human interaction. however, until we learn all there is to know about the potential of images in areas other than art, architecture, and design, chances are that we shall not understand their participation in thinking and in other traditionally non-image-based forms of human praxis. images are very powerful agents for activities involving human emotions and instincts. they shy away from literal truth, insofar as the logic of images is different from the logic inhabiting human experiences of self-constitution in language. imagery has a protean character. images not only represent; they actually shape, form, and constitute subjects. cognitive processes of association are better supported visually than in language. through images, people are effectively encultured, i.e., given the identity which they cannot experience at the abstract level of acculturation through language. the world of avatars, dynamic graphic representations of a person in the virtual universe of networks, is one of concreteness. the individuals literally remake themselves as visual entities that can enter a dialogue with others. within a given culture, images relate to each other. in the multitude of cultures within which people identify themselves, images translate from one experience to another. against the background of globality, the experience of images is one of simultaneous distinctions and integration. distinctions carry the identifiers of the encultured human beings constituted in new practical experiences. integration is probably best exemplified by the metaphor of the global village of teleconnections and tele-viewing, of internet and world wide web interactions. the characteristics of images given here so far need to be related to the perspective of changes brought about by imaging technologies. otherwise, we could hardly come to understand how images constitute languages that make literacy useless, or better yet, that result in the need for complementary partial literacies. the mechanical eye and the electronic eye the photo camera and the associated technology of photo processing are products of the civilization of literacy in anticipation of the civilization of illiteracy. the metaphor of the eye, manifest in the optics of the lens and the mechanics of the camera, could not entirely support new human perceptions of reality without the participation of literacy. camera use implied the shared background of literacy and literacy-based space representations. the entire discussion of the possibilities and limitations of photography-a discussion begun shortly after the first photographic images were produced, and still going on in our day-is an exercise in analytical practice. some looked at photography as writing with light; others as mechanical drawing. they doubted whether there was room for creativity in its use, but never questioned its documentary quality: shorthand for descriptions difficult, but still possible, in writing. the wider the framework of practical experiences involving the camera, the more interesting the testimony of photography proved. this applies to photography in journalism and science, as well as in personal and family life. with photography, images started to substitute for words, and literacy progressively gave way to imagery in a variety of new human experiences related to space, movement, and aspects of life otherwise not visible. testimony of the invisible, made available to many people through the photographic camera, was much stronger, richer, and more authentic than the words one could write about the same. early photographs of the paris sewer system-the latter a subject of many stories, but literally out of sight-exemplify this function. before the camera, only drawing could capture the visible without changing it into words or obscure diagrams. drawing was an interpreted representation, not only in the sense of selection-what to draw-but also in defining a perspective and endowing the image with some emotional quality. the camera had a long way to go before the same interpretive quality was achieved, and even then, in view of the mediating technology, it was quite difficult to define what was added to what was photographed, and why. today's cameras-from the disposables to the fully automated-encapsulate everything we have to know to operate them. there is no need to be aware of the eye metaphor-which is undergoing change with the advent of electronic photography-and even less of what diaphragm, exposure time, and distance are. the experience leading to photography and the practical experience of automated photography are uncoupled. to take a picture is no longer a matter of expertise, but a reflex gesture accompanying travel, family or community events, and discrete moments of relative significance. thus photographic images took over linguistic descriptions and became our diaries. as confusing as this might sound, a camera turns into an extension of our eyes (actually, only one), easier to use than language, and probably more accurate. in some way, a camera is a compressed language all set for the generation of visual sentences. if scientific use of photography were not available, a great deal of effort would be necessary to verbally describe what images from outer space, from the powerful electronic microscope, or from under the earth and under water, reveal to us. in leonardo da vinci's time, the only alternative was drawing, and a very rich imagination! the camera has a built-in space concept, probably more explicit than language has. this concept is asserted and embodied in the geometry of the lens and is reflected in some of the characteristics of photographic images. they are, mainly, two- dimensional reductions of our three-dimensional universe of experience, also influenced by light, film emulsion, type of processing, technology and materials used for printing, but primarily by physical properties of the lens used. once our spatial concept improved and progress in lens processing was made, we were able to change the lens, to make it more adaptive (wide angle, zoom) to functions related to visual experiences. we were also able to introduce an element of time control that helped to capture dynamic events. another important change was brought about by polaroid's concept of almost instant delivery of prints. it is with this concept-compressing two stages of photographic representation into one and, in initial developments, giving up the possibility of making copies-that we reached a new phase in the relation between literacy and photography. as we know, the traditional camera came with the implicit machine-focused conversation: what can i do with it? the polaroid concept changed this to a different query: what can it do for me? this change of emphasis corresponds to a different experience with the medium and is accompanied by the liberation of photography from some of the constraints of the system of literacy. "what can i do?" concerns photographic knowledge and the selection made by photographers, persons who constitute their identity in a new practical experience. "what can it do?" refers to knowledge embodied in the hardware. the advertisement succinctly describes the change: "hold the picture in your hand while you still hold the memory in your heart." as opposed to a written record, an instant image is meant for a short time, almost as a fast substitute for writing. a more significant change occurs when photography goes electronic, and in particular, digital. both elements already discussed-the significance of the smallest changes in the input on the result, and the quality aspect of digital vs. analog-are reflected in digital photography. i insist on this because of the new condition of the image it entails and our relation to the realm of the visual. language found its medium in writing, and printing made writing the object of literacy. images could not be used with the same ease as writing, and could not be transmitted the way the voice is. when we found ways to have voice travel at speeds faster than that of sound, by electromagnetic waves used in telephone or radio transmission, we consolidated the function of language, but at the same time freed language of some of the limitations of literacy. digital photography accomplishes the same for images. a written report from any place in the world might take longer to produce, though not to transmit, than the image representing the event reported. connected to a network, an electronic camera sends images from the event to the page prepared for printing. the understanding of the image, whose printing involved a digital component (the raster) long before the computer was invented, requires a much lower social investment than literacy. the complexity is transferred from capturing the image to transmitting and viewing it. films are used to generate an electronic simile of our photographic shots. at the friendly automated image shop, we get colorful prints and the shiny cd-rom from which each image can be recalled on a video screen or further processed on our computers. from the image as testimony, as literacy destined it to be, to the image as pretext for new experiences-medium of visual relativity and questionable morality- everything, and more, is possible. images can mediate in fast developing situations- transactions, exchange of information, conflicts-better than words can. they are free of the extra burden words bear and allow for global and detailed local interpretation. electronic processing of digital photography supports comparison, as well as manipulation, of images in view of unprecedented human experiences requiring such functions. the metaphor of the one-eye, which the photographic camera embodies, led to a flat world. cyclopes see everything flat. unfortunately, but by no accident, this metaphor was taken over in computer graphics. images on the computer screen are held together by the conventions of monocular vision. digital photography can be networked and endowed with dynamic qualities. but what makes digital photography more and more a breakthrough, in respect to its incipient literate phase, is that we can build d cameras, that is, technical beasts with two eyes (and if need be, with more). this leads to practical experiences in a pragmatic framework no longer limited to sequences or to reductionist strategies of representation. who is afraid of a locomotive? the image of a locomotive moving in the direction of the spectators made them scream and run away when moving pictures were first shown to the public. movement enhanced the realism of the image, captured on film to the extent of blurring the borderline between reality and the newly established convention of cinematographic expression. in the movies of the silent era, the literacy-based realism of the image- actually an illustration of the script-successfully compensated for the impossibility of providing the sound of dialogue. the experience of literacy and that of writing movement onto film were tightly coupled. short scenes, designed with close attention to visual details, could be understood without the presence of the word, because of the shared background of language. the convention of cinematography is based on sharing the extended white page on which the projection of moving images takes place. humor was the preferred structure, since the mechanical reproduction of movement had, due to rudimentary technology and lack of sound, a comic quality in itself. later, music was inserted, then dialogue. everyone was looking forward to the day when image and sound would be synchronized, when color movies would become possible. it adds to the arguments thus far advanced that cinematographic human experience, an experience dominantly visual, revealed the role of language as a synchronizing device, while the mechanics of cameras and projectors took care of the optical illusion. cinematography also suggested that this role could be exercised by other means of expression and communication as well. language is related to body movement, and often participates in the rhythmic patterns of this movement. before language, other rhythmic devices better adapted to the unsettled self-constitutive practical experience of the homo hominis were used to synchronize the effort of several beings involved in the endeavor of survival. although there is no relation between the experience of cinematography and that of primitive beings on the move after migrating herds of animals, it is worth pointing out the underlying structure of synchronicity. the means involved in achieving this synchronicity are characteristic of the various stages in human evolution. at a very small scale of existence, such as autarchic existence, the means were very simple, and very few. at the scale that makes the writing of movement possible, these means had become complex, but were dominated by literacy. with cinematography, a new strategy of synchronization was arrived at. in many ways, the story of how films became what they are today is also the story of a conflict between literacy and image-based strategies of synchronization. the intermediary phases are well known: the film accompanied by music ("don't kill the pianist"), recorded sound, sound integrated in the movie, stereophonic sound. their significance is also known: emulate the rhythm of filmed movement, provide a dramatic background, integrate the realism of dialogue and other real sounds in the realism of action, expand the means of expression in order to synthesize new realities. some of the conventions of the emerging film are cultural accomplishments, probably comparable to the convention of ideographic writing. they belong, nevertheless, to a pragmatic context based on the characteristics of literacy. they ensue also from an activity that will result in higher and higher levels of human productivity and efficiency. each film is a mold for the many copies to be shown to millions of spectators. the personal touch of handwriting is obfuscated by the neutral camera-a mechanical device, after all. that the same story can be told in many different ways does not change the fact that, once told, it addresses enormous numbers of potential viewers, no longer required to master literacy in order to understand the film's content. the experience of filmmaking is industrially defined. it also bears witness to the many components of human interaction, opening a window on experiences irreducible to words; and it points to the possibility of going beyond literacy, and even beyond the first layers of the visible-that is, to appropriate the imaginary in the self-constitution of the human being. some of the changes sketched above occurred when cinematography, after its phase of theater on film, started to compress language, and to search for its own expressive potential. compression of language means the use of images to diminish the quantity of words necessary to constitute a viable filmic expression, as well as the effort to summarize literature. indeed, in view of the limitations of the medium, especially during its imitative phase, it could not support scripts based on literary works that exceeded film's own complexity. cinematography had also to deal with the limited span of its viewers' attention, their lack of any previous exposure to moving images, and the conditions for viewing a film. when, later on, filmmakers compressed entire books into to minutes, we entered a phase of human experience characterized by substituting written with non- or para-linguistic means. the generations since the beginning of cinematography learned the new filmic convention while still involved in practical experiences characteristic of literacy. conventions of film, as a medium with its own characteristics, started to be experienced relatively recently, in the broader context of a human praxis in the process of freeing itself from the constraints of literacy. films are an appropriate medium for integration of the visual, the aural, and motion. people can record on film some of their most intricate experiences, and afterwards submit the record to fast, slow, entire, or partial evaluation. the experience of filming is an experience with space and time in their interrelationship. but as opposed to the space and time projected in language, and uniformly shared by a literate community, space and time on film can be varied, and made extremely personal. within the convention of film, we can uncouple ourselves from the physical limitations of our universe of existence, from social or cultural commitments, and generate a new frame for action. the love affair between hollywood and emerging technologies for creating the impossible in the virtual space of digital synthesis testifies to this. but we cannot, after all, transcend the limitations of the underlying structure on which cinematography is based. generated near the height of the civilization of literacy, cinematography represents the borderline between practical experiences corresponding to the scale for which literacy was optimal, and the new scale for which both literacy and film are only partially adequate. it is even doubtful that the film medium will survive as an alternative to the new media because it is, for all practical purposes, inefficient. cinematography influenced our experience with language, while simultaneously pointing to the limits of this experience. a film is not a visually illustrated text, or a transcription of a play. rather, it is a mapping from a universe of sentences and meanings assigned to a text, to a more complex universe, one of consecutive images forming (or not) a new coherent entity. in the process, language performs sometimes as language (dialogue among characters), other times as a pre-text for the visual cinematographic text. before film, we moved only in the universe of our natural, physical existence, on the theatrical stage, or in the universe of our imagination, in our dreams. the synchronizing function of language made this movement (such as working, going from one place to another, from one person to another) socially relevant. our movement in language descriptions (do this, go there, meet so-and-so) is an abstraction. our movement recorded on film is the re-concretized abstraction. this explains the role of filmed images for teaching people how to carry out certain operations, for educating, or for indoctrinating them, or for acquainting them with things and actions never experienced directly. it also explains why, once efficiency criteria become important, film no longer addresses the individual, or small groups; rather, it addresses audiences at the only scale at which it can still be economically justified. the industry called hollywood (and its various copies around the world) is based on an equation of efficiency that keys in the globality of the world, of illiteracy, and of the distribution network already in place. on an investment in a film of over $ million, five continents of viewers are needed, and this is still no guarantee of breaking even. it is not at all clear whether dreamworks, the offspring of the affair between hollywood and the computer industry, will eventually create its own distribution channels on the global digital network. the temptation to ask whether the language of moving images made literacy superfluous, or whether illiteracy created the need for film, and the risk of falling prey to a simplifying cause-and-effect explanation should not prevent us from acknowledging that there are many relations among the factors involved. nevertheless, the key element is the underlying structure. books embody the characteristics of language and trigger experiences within the confines of these characteristics. when faced with practical requirements and challenges resulting from a new scale of existence, the human being constitutes alternatives better adapted to a dynamics of change for which books and the experience they entail are only partially appropriate. books in which even literate people sometimes got lost, or for which we do not have time or patience, are interpreted for us, condensed in the movie. the fact is that more than a generation has now had access to established works of fiction and drama, as well as scientific, historic, or geographic accounts only through films. a price was paid-there is no equivalent between the book and film-and is being paid, but this is not the issue here. what is the issue is the advent of cinematography in the framework in which literacy ceased to support experiences other than those based on its structure. films are mediating expressions better adapted than language to a more segmented reality of social existence. they are also adapted to the dynamics of change and to the global nature of human existence. they prepared us for electronic media, but not before generating those strange books (or are they?) that transcribe films for a market so obsessed with success that it will buy the rudimentary transcription together with the paraphernalia derived from the stage design and from the costumes used by the characters. we can find substitutes for coal or oil or tin, but seemingly not for success and stars. as a result, everything they touch or are associated with enters the circuit of our own practical existence. an american journalist ended his commentary occasioned by greta garbo's death: "today they no longer make legends, but celebrities." being here and there at the same time four generations old (or maybe five), but already the medium of choice-this statement does not define television, but probably captures its social significance. it can be said from the outset that while cinematography is at the borderline between the civilization of literacy and that of illiteracy, television definitely embodies the conflict between the two. in fact, television irreversibly tipped the balance in favor of the visual. the invention of television took place in the context of the change in scale of humankind. primarily, television occasions the transition from the universe of mechanics and chemistry, implicit in film making and viewing, to that of electricity, in particular electronics, and, more recently, digital technology. television, as a product of this change in the structure and nature of human theoretic and practical experience, results from the perceived pragmatic need to capture and transmit dynamic images. electricity was already the medium for capturing and transmitting sound at the speed of electrons along telephone networks. and since images and actions are influenced by the light we view them in, it followed that light is what we actually wanted to record and transmit. this is television. cumbersome and still owing a lot to mechanics, television started as a news medium, allowing for almost instantaneous connection between the source of information and the audience. it was initially mostly illustrative. today, it is constitutive, in the sense that it not only records news, it makes news. it constitutes a generalized mass-medium supporting entertainment and ritual (political, religious, military). literacy corresponds to the experiences of human self-definition in the world of classical physics and chemistry. it is based on the same underlying structure, and projects characteristics of this experience. electricity and electronics correspond to very fast processes (practically instantaneous), high leverage of human action, diversity, more varied mediating elements, and feedback. the film camera has the main characteristics of literacy. it can be compared to the printing press. but the comparison is only partially adequate since it writes movements to film, and lets us read them together on the shared white page called the screen. between recording the movement and viewing it, time is used for processing and duplication. television is structurally different, capturing movement and everything else belonging to what we call reality, in order to make it immediately available to the viewer. electronic mediation is much more elaborate, has many more layers than cinematography, and as a result is much more efficient. film mapped from the selected world of movement, in a studio, on the street, or in a laboratory, to a limited viewership: public in a movie theater. it requested that people share the screen on which its images were projected. television maps from many cameras to the entire world, and all can simultaneously partake in its images. television is distributed and introduces simultaneity in that several events from several locations can be broadcast on the tv screen. by comparison, cinematography is centralized. filming is limited to the location where it is being carried on. cinematography is intrinsically sequential in that it follows the narrative structure and constitutes a closed entity. once edited for showing, the film cannot be interrupted to insert anything new. there are still many who see the two as closely related, and others who see the use of television only as a carrier (of film, for instance). they ignore the defining fact that film and television, despite some commonalties, belong to practical experiences impossible to reconcile. in fact, while film passed the climax of its attraction, television became the most pervasive medium. due to the use of television in education, corporate communication, sports, artistic and other performances, such as space exploration and war, television impacts upon social interaction without being an interactive medium. a televised event can address audiences close to the world's entire population. when recording images for television became possible, television supported continued human experiences of decentralization, which previous communication technologies could not provide. the video camera and the video cassette recorder, especially in its digital version, make each of us own not only the receivers of the language of images and sounds, but also emitters, the sources, the private hollywood studios. that is, they make us live the language of tv, and substitute it for literacy. interactive tv will undoubtedly contribute even more in this direction. it is already the case that instead of writing a letter, some people make a video and send it to family and authorities, and to tv stations interested in viewer feedback and news stories. the massive deployment of troops in the desert storm operation made clear how the shift from literate to illiterate communication integrates video communication. together with the telephone, television and video dominated communication patterns of the people involved. subsequent troop deployments confirmed the pattern of illiterate communication. among the many networks through which the foundation of our existence is continuously altered, cable tv plays a distinct role. many consider it more important than libraries, probably for the wrong reasons. whether living in thickly populated urban clusters or in remote locations, people are physically connected through multi- channeled communication networks, and even through interactive media. cable tv is often seen only as another entry to our home for downloading classical programs as well as pornography and superstition. the full utilization of the electronic avenue as a multi-lane, bi-directional highway through which we can be receivers of what we want to accept, and senders of visual messages to whomever is interested and willing to interact with these messages, is still more a goal than a reality. with computer- supported visual communication integrating digital television, we will dispose of the entire infrastructure for a visually dominated civilization. in the age of internet, wired or wireless networks become part of the artificial nervous system of advanced societies. whether in its modem-based variant, or through other advanced schemes for transporting digital information and supporting interaction, the cable system already contributes to the transformation of the nature of many human practical experiences. these can be experiences of entertainment, but also of learning, teaching, even work. there is a negative side to all this development, and a need to face consequences that over time can accumulate beyond what we already know and understand. children growing up with tv miss the experience of movement. jaron lanier discussed the "famous childhood zombiehood," an expression of staring into nothing, a limited ability to see beyond a television image, the desire for instant gratification, and a lack of basic common sense appreciation for doing work in order to achieve satisfaction. games developed around video technology train children to behave like laboratory rats that learn a maze by rote. they grow up accepting the politics of telegenic competition, a poor substitute for competence and commitment. their vote is focused on brands, regardless of whether they regard political choices or cereals. addressed en masse, such viewers gel in the mass image of polls that rapidly succeed one another. that technology makes possible alternatives to literacy embodied in the visual is unquestionable. to what extent these alternatives carry with them previous determinations and constraints, or they correspond to a new stage in human civilization, is the crux of the matter. the degree of necessity and thus the efficiency of any new form of visual expression, communication, or interaction can be ascertained only in how individuals constitute themselves through practical activities coherently integrating the visual. there is no higher form of empowerment than in the fulfillment of our individual possibilities. telegenic or not, a president or a tv star has little, if any, impact on our fulfillment in the interconnected world of our time. television implies a great deal of language, but such language frees the audience from the requirement of literacy. you do not need to know how to write or read to watch tv; you need to be in command of a limited part of spoken language in order to understand a tv show, even to actively participate in it-from going on a game show to using cable networks, videotex, or interactive programs, exploring the internet, or setting up a presence on the network. growing up with tv results in stereotypes of language and attitudes representing a background of shared expressions, gestures, and values. to see in these only the negative, the low end, is easier than to acknowledge that previous backgrounds, constituted on the underlying structure of literacy, have become untenable under the new pragmatic circumstances. due to its characteristics, television belongs to the framework of rapid change typical of the dynamics of needs and expectations within the new scale of humankind. there are many varied implications to this: it makes each of us more passive, more and more subject to manipulations (economic, political, religious), robbing (or freeing) us from the satisfaction of a more personal relation (to others, art, literature, etc.). nobody should underestimate any of these and many other factors discussed by media ecologists and sociologists. but to stubbornly, and quite myopically, consider tv only from the perspective and expectations of literacy is presumptuous. we have to understand the structural changes that made tv and video possible. moreover, we have to consider the changes they, in turn, brought about. otherwise we will miss the opportunities opened by the practical experience of understanding the new choices presented to us, and even the new possibilities opened. there is so much more after tv, even on channels and after video-on-demand! language is not an absolute democratic medium; literacy, with intrinsic elitist characteristics, even less. although it was used to ascertain principles of democracy, literacy ended up, again and again, betraying them. because they are closer to things and actions, and because they require a relatively smaller background of shared knowledge, images are more accessible, although less challenging. but where words and text can obscure the meaning of a message, images can be immediately related to what they refer to. there are more built-in checks in the visual than in the verbal, although the deceptive power of an image can be exploited probably much more than the power of the word. such, and many other considerations are useful, since the transfer of social and political functions from literacy (books and newspapers, political manifestos, ceremonies and rituals based on writing and reading) to the visual, especially television, requires that we understand the consequences of this transfer. but it is not television that keeps voters away from exercising the right to elect their representatives in the civilization of illiteracy, and not the visual that makes us elect actors, lawyers, peanut farmers, or successful oilmen to the highest (and least useful) posts in the government. conditions that require the multitude of languages that we use, the layers of mediation, the tendency to decentralization, to name a few, resulted in the increased influence of the visual, as well as in some of the choices mentioned so far. high definition television (hdtv) helps us distinguish some characteristics of the entire development under discussion-for instance, how the function of integration is carried out. integration through the intermediary of literacy required shared knowledge, and in particular, knowledge of writing and reading. integration through the intermediary of modern image-producing technology, especially television and computer-aided visual communication, means access to and sharing of information. television has made countries which are so different in their identity, history, and culture (as we know the countries of the world to be) seem sometimes so similar that one has to ask how this uniformity came about. some will point to the influence of the market process- advertisements look much the same all over the world. others may note the influence of technology-an electronic eye open on the world that renders uniform everything within its range. the new dynamics of human interaction, required by our striving for higher efficiency appropriate to the scale of humankind, probably explains the process better. the similarity is determined by the mechanism we use to achieve this higher efficiency, i.e., progressively deeper labor division, increased mediation, and the need for alternative mechanisms for human integration, that is reflected in tv images. this similarity makes up the substratum of tv images, as well as the substratum of fashion trends, new rituals, and new values, as transitory as all these prove to be. literacy and television are not reciprocally exclusive. if this were not the case, the solution to the lower levels of literacy would be at hand. nevertheless, all those who hoped to increase the quality of literacy by using television had to accept that this was a goal for which the means are not appropriate. language stabilizes, induces uniformity, depersonalizes; television keeps up with change, allows and invites diversity, makes possible personalized interaction among those connected through a tv chain of cameras and receivers. literacy is a medium of tedious elaboration and inertia. tv is spontaneous and instantaneous. moreover, it also supports forms of scientific activity for which language is not at all suited. we cannot send language to look at what our eyes do not see directly, or see only through some instruments. we cannot anticipate, in language, processes which, once made possible on a television screen, make future human experience conceivable. i know that in these last lines i started crossing the border between television and digital image processing, but this is no accident. indeed, human experience with television, in its various forms and applications, although not at all closed, made necessary the next step towards a language of images which can take advantage of computer technology and of networking. with the advent of hdtv, television achieves a quality that makes it appropriate for integration in many practical experiences. design (of clothes, furniture, new products) can result from a collaborative effort of people working at different sites, and in the manufacture of their design during a live session. modifications are almost instantaneously integrated in the sample. the product can be actually tested, and decisions leading to production made. communication at such levels of effectiveness is actually integrated in the creative and productive effort. the language is that of the product, a visual reality in progress. the results are design and production cycles much shorter than literacy-based communication can support. hdtv is television brought to a level of efficiency that only digital formats make possible. the reception of digital television opens the possibility to proceed from each and every image considered appropriate to storing, manipulating, and integrating it in a new context. digital television reinstates activity, and is subject to creative programming and interactivity. the individual can make up a new universe through the effort of understanding and creative planning. it is quite possible that alternative forms of communication, much richer than those in use today, will emerge from practical experiences of human self-constitution in this new realm. that in ten years all our tv sets, if the tv set remains a distinct receiver, will be digital says much less than the endless creative ideas emerging around the reality of digital television. visualization whenever people using language try to convince their partner in dialogue, or even themselves, that they understood a description, a concept, a proof, and answer by using the colloquial "i see," they actually express the practical experience of seeing through language. they are overcoming the limitations of the abstract system of phonetic language and returning to the concreteness of seeing the image. way of speaking equals way of doing-this sums up one of the many premises of this book. we extract information about things and actions from their images. when no image is possible-what does a thought look like, or what is the image of right, of wrong, of ideal?-language supports us in our theoretic experiences, or in the attempt to make the abstract concrete. language is rather effective in helping us identify kinds of thoughts, in implementing social rules that encode prescriptions for distinguishing between right and wrong, for embodying the just in the institution of justice, and ideals in values. but the experience of language can also be an experience of images. once we reach the moment when we can embody the abstract in a concrete theory, in action, in new objects, in institutions, and in choices, and once we are able to form an image of these, share the image, make it part of the visual world we live in, and use it further for many practical or intellectual purposes, we expand the literate experience in new experiences. so it seems that we tend to visualize everything. i would go so far as to say that we not only visualize everything, but also listen to sounds of everything, experience their smell, touch, and taste, and recreate the abstract in the concreteness of our perceptions. the domination of language and the ideal of literacy, which instills this domination as a rule, was and still is seen as the domination of rationality, as though to be literate equals being rational, volens nolens. in fact, the rationality associated with language, and expressed with its help, is only a small part of the potential human rationality. the measure (ratio) we project in our objectification can as well be a measure related to our perceptive system. it is quite plausible to suspect that some of the negative effects of our literate rationality could have been avoided had we been able to simultaneously project our other dimensions in whatever we did. the shift from a literacy-dominated civilization to the relative domination of the visual takes place under the influence of new tools, further mediations, and integration mechanisms required by self-constitutive practical experiences at the new human scale. the tools we need should allow us to continue exploring horizons at which literacy ceases to be effective, or even significant. the mediations required correspond to complexities for which new languages are structurally more adequate. the necessary integration is only partially achievable through literate means since many people active in the humanities and the sciences gave up the obsession of final explanations and accepted the model of infinite processes. images, among other sign systems, are structurally better suited for a pragmatic framework marked by continuous multiplication of choices, high efficiency, and distributed human experience. but in order to use images, the human being had to put in place a conceptual context that could support extended visual praxis. when the digital computer was invented, none of those who made it a reality knew that it would contribute to more than the mechanization of number crunching. the visionary dimension of the digital computer is not in the technology, but in the concept of a universal language, a characteristica universalis, or lingua adamica, as leibniz conceived it. this is not the place to rewrite the history of the computer or the history of the languages that computers process. but the subject of visualization-presented here from the perspective of the shift from literacy to the visual-requires at least some explanation of the relation between the visual and the human use of computers. the binary number system, which leibniz called arithmetica binaria (according to a manuscript fragment dated march , ), was not meant to be the definitive alphabet, with only two letters, but the basis for a universal language, in which the limitations of natural language are overcome. leibniz tried hard to make this language utilizable in all domains of human activity, in encoding laws, scientific results, music. i think that the most intriguing aspect, which has been ignored for centuries, was his attempt to visualize events of abstract nature with the help of the two symbols of his alphabet. in a letter to herzog rudolph august von braunschweig (january , ), leibniz described his project for a medal depicting the creation (imago creationis). in this letter, he actually introduced digital calculus. around , he wrote two letters to nicolas de remond concerning chinese philosophy. it is useful to mention these here because of the binary number representation of some of the most intriguing concepts of the ih-king. through these letters, we are in the realm of the visual, and in front of pages in which, probably for the first time, translations from ideographic to the sequential, and finally to the digital, were performed. it took almost years before hackers, trying to see if they could use the digital for music notation, discovered that images can be described in a binary system. this long historic parenthesis is justified by two thoughts. first, it was not the technology that made us aware of images, or even opened access to their digital processing, but intellectual praxis, motivated by its own need for efficiency. second, visualization is not a matter of illustrating words, concepts, or intuitions. it is the attempt to create tools for generating images related to information and its use. a text on a computer screen is, in fact, an image, a visualization of the language generated not by a human hand in control of a quill, a piece of lead or graphite, a pencil or a pen. the computer does not know language. it translates our alphabet into its own alphabet, and then, after processing, it translates it back into ours. displayed in those stored images which, if in lead, would constitute the contents of the lower and upper cases of the drawers in each typography shop, this literacy is subject to automation. when we write, we visualize, making our language visible on paper. when we draw, we make our plans for new artifacts visible. the mediation introduced by the computer use does not affect the condition of language as long as the computer is only the pen, keyboard, or typewriter. but once we encode language rules (such as spelling, case agreement, and so on), once we store our vocabulary and our grammar, and mimic human use of language, what is written is only partially the result of the literacy of the writer. the visualization of text is the starting point towards automatic creation of other texts. it also leads to establishing relations between language and non-language sign systems. today, we dispose of means for electronically associating images and texts, for cross-referencing images and texts, and for rapidly diagramming texts. we can, and indeed do, print electronic journals, which are refereed on the network. nothing prevents such journals from inserting images, animation and sounds, or for facilitating on-line reactions to the hypotheses and scientific data presented. that such publications need a shorter time to reach their public goes without saying. the internet thus became the new medium of publication, and the computer its printing press-a printing press of a totally new condition. individuals constituting their identity on the internet have access to resources which until recently were available only to those who owned presses, or gained access to them by virtue of their privileged position in society. the visual component of computer processing, i.e., the graphics, relies on the same language of zeros and ones through which the entire computer processing takes place. as a result of this common alphabet and grammar (boolean logic and its new extensions), we can consider language (image translations, or number-image relations such as diagrams, charts, and the like), and also more abstract relations. creating the means to overcome the limitations of literacy has dominated scientific work. the new means for information processing allow us to replace the routine of phenomenological observation with processing of diverse languages designed especially to help us create new theories of very complex and dynamic phenomena. the shift to the visual follows the need to change the accent from quantitative evaluations and language inferences based on them, to qualitative evaluations, and images expressing such evaluations at some significant moments of the process in which we are involved. let us mention some of these processes. in medicine, or in the research for syntheses of new substances, and in space research, words have proven to be not only misleading, but also inefficient in many respects. new visualization techniques, such as those based on molecular resonance, freed the praxis of medicine from the limitations of word descriptions. patients explain what they feel; physicians try to match such descriptions to typologies of disease based on data resulting from the most recent data. when this process is networked, the most qualified physician can be consulted. when experimental data and theoretic models are joined, the result is visualized and the information exchanged via high-speed broadband digital networks. based on similar visualization techniques, we acquire better access to sources of data regarding the past, as well as to information vital for carrying through projects oriented towards the future. computed tomography, for instance, visualized the internal structure of egyptian mummies. three-dimensional images of the whole body were created without violating the casings and wrappings that cover the remnants. the internal body structure was visualized by using a simulation system similar to those utilized in non-intrusive surgery. the design and production of new materials, space research, and nano- engineering have already benefited from replacing the analytical perspective ingrained in literacy-based methods with visual means for synthesis. it is possible to visualize molecular structures and simulate interactions of molecules in order to see how medicine affects the cells treated, the dynamics of mixing, chemical and biochemical reactions. it is also possible to simulate forces involved in the so-called docking of molecules in virtual space. no literacy-based description can substitute for flight simulators, or for visualization of data from radio astronomy, for large areas of genetics and physics. not the last among examples to be given is the still controversial field of artificial intelligence, seduced with emulating behaviors usually associated with human intelligence in action. but it should not surprise anybody that while the dynamics of the civilization of illiteracy requires freedom from literacy, people will continue to preserve values and concepts they are used to, or which are appropriate to specific knowledge areas. paradoxically, artificial intelligence is, in part, doing exactly this. when people grow up with images the same way prior generations were subjected to literacy, the relation to images changes. the technology for visualization, although sometimes still based on language models, makes interactivity possible in ways language could not. but it is not only the technology of visualization applied within science and engineering that marks the new development. visualization, in its various forms and functions, supports the almost instantaneous interaction between us and our various machines, and among people sharing the same natural environment, or separated in space and time. it constitutes an alternative medium for thinking and creativity, as it did all along the history of crafts, design, and engineering. it is also a medium for understanding our environment, and the multitude of changes caused by practical experience involving the life support system. through visualization, people can experience dimensions of space beyond their direct perception, they can consider the behavior of objects in such spaces, and can also expand the realm of artistic creativity. the print media, as an overlapping practical experience uniting literacy and the power of sight, are more visual today than at any previous time. we are no longer subjected-sometimes with good reason, other times for dubious motives-to the sequentiality of literacy-dominated modes of communication. an entire shared visual language is projected upon us in the form of comic strips, advertisements, weather maps, economic reports, and other pictorial representations. some of these representations are still printed on paper. others are displayed through the more dynamic forms at public information kiosks, or through interactive means of information dissemination, such as computer-supported networks and non-linear search environments, which ted nelson anticipated back in . the world wide web embodies many of his ideas, as well as ideas of a number of other visionaries. parallel to these developments, we are becoming more and more aware of the possibilities of using images in human activities where they played a reduced role within literacy-civic action, political debate, legal argumentation. lawyers already integrate visual testimony in their cases. juries can see for themselves the crime being committed, as well as the results of sophisticated forensic tests. human destinies are defended with arguments that are no longer at the mercy of someone's memory or another's talent for rhetoric or drama. the citizen is frequently addressed by increasingly visual messages that explain how tax dollars are spent and why he or she should vote for one or another candidate. in becoming the netizen, he or she will participate in social interactions fundamentally new in nature. on the net, politicians claiming credit for some accomplishment can be immediately challenged by the real image. political promises can be modeled and displayed while the campaign speech is given. a decision to go to war can be subjected to an instant referendum while the simulation of the war itself, or of alternatives, is played on our monitors. but again, to idealize these possibilities would be foolish. the potential for abusive use of images is as great as that for their meaningful application. many factors are at work slowing down the process of educating visually literate individuals. we continue to rediscover the wheel of reading and writing without advancing comprehensive programs for visual education. illustrative visual alternatives, advanced more as an alibi for the maintenance of literacy-dominated communication, are by the nature of their function inappropriate in the context of higher efficiency requirements. utilized as alternatives, these materials can be, and often are, irrelevant, ugly, insignificant, and expensive. more often than not, they are used not to enhance communication, but to direct it, to manipulate the addressee. it will take more than the recognition of the role of the visual to understand that visual literacy, or probably several such literacies, comprising the variety of visual languages we need, less confining, less permanent, and less patterned, are necessary in order to improve practical experiences of self-constitution through images. we are yet to address the ethical aspects of such experiences, especially in view of the fact that the visual entails constraints different from those encoded in the letter of our laws and moral principles. in discussing the transition to the visual, i hope to have made clear that the process is not one of substituting one form of literacy for another. the process has a totally different dynamics. it implies transition from a dominating form of literacy to a multitude of highly adaptive sign systems. these all require new competencies that reflect this adaptability. it also requires that we all understand integrative processes in order to make the best of individual efforts in a framework of extremely divided and specialized experiences of self-constitution. if seeing is believing, then believing everything we see in our day is a challenge for which we are, for all practical purposes, ill prepared. unbounded sexuality "freedom of speech is as good as sex." madonna the netizens were up in arms: the communications decency act must be repealed. blue ribbons appeared on many websites as an expression of solidarity. this act was prompted by the american government's attempt to prevent children from accessing the many pornographic outlets of the internet. this first major public confrontation between a past controlled by literate mechanisms and a future of illiterate unrestricted freedom seemed to be less about sex and more about democracy. but that the two are related, and defined within the current pragmatics of human self- constitution, has escaped both parties to the dispute. seeking good sex in economic-philosophical manuscripts, karl marx (a product of the civilization of literacy) addressed alienation: "we thus arrive at the result that man feels that he acts freely only in his animal functions-eating, drinking, procreation, or at most using shelter, jewelry, etc.-while in his human functions, he feels only animal. what is animal becomes human and what is human becomes animal." how an analysis of industrial capitalism, with its underlying pragmatic structure reflected in literacy, can anticipate phenomena pertinent to the post-industrial, and reflected in illiteracy, is not easy to explain. although he referred to economic self-constitution, his description is significant in more than one way. sexuality is of concern in the civilization of illiteracy insofar as the human being in its multi-dimensionality is of concern. this might sound too broad to afford any meaningful inference from the condition of literacy to the condition of human sexuality, but it is an existential premise. through sexuality humans project their natural condition and the many influences, language included, leading to its humanization. an understanding of the multiple factors at work in conditioning human experiences as intimate as sexual relations, depends upon the understanding of the pragmatic framework in which they unfold. child pornography on the internet is by no means the offspring of our love affair with technology. neither is pornography being invoked for the first time as a justification for censorship. nevertheless, the commotion regarding the communications decency act constitutes a new experience that is intimately related to the condition of human existence in today's world. "swf seeks unemployed swm grad student for hideaway weekends, intimate dinners, and cuddling. must know how to read, and be able to converse without extensive use of 'you know' or 'wicked.'" this announcement (dated october , ) is one among many that use qualifying initials, but with one twist: "must know how to read."-moreover, to be articulate. what over ten years ago was formulated innocently (hideaway, intimate dinner, cuddling) would today be expressed quite bluntly: "looking for good sex." what does reading, and possibly writing, have to do with our emotional life, with our need and desire to love and be loved; that is, what does reading have to do with sex? long before homo sapiens ascertained itself, reproduction, and all it comprises in its natural and and form, ensured survival. do literacy, language, or sign systems affect this basic equation of life? mating seasons and habits shed some light on the natural aspect. colors, odors, mating calls, specific movements (dances, fights, body language) send sexual signals. molecular biology places the distinction between hominids and chimpanzees at four million years ago. after all this time of freeing themselves from nature, even to the extent of self-constitution in the practical experience of artificial insemination, human beings still integrate color, odor, mating calls, and particular movements into the erotic. but they also integrate the experience of their self-constitution in language. since the time hominids distinguished themselves, the sexuality of the species started differentiating itself from that of animals. for example, humans are permanently attractive, even after insemination, while animals attract each other only at moments favorable for reproduction. along the timeline from the primitive being to our civilization, sex changed from being an experience in reproduction to being predominantly a form of pleasure in itself. instead of the immediacy of the sexual urge, projected through patterns subject to natural cycles, humans experience ever more mediated forms of sexual attraction and gratification, which are not necessarily associated with reproduction. an initial change occurred when humanized sexual drive turned into love, and became associated with its many emotions. the practical experience of language played an important part in extending sexual encounters from the exclusive realm of nature to the realm of culture. here they acquired a life of their own through practical experiences characteristic of the syncretic phase of human practical experiences, mostly rituals. during the process of differentiating these experiences-constitution of myths, moral and ethical self-awareness, theater, dance, poetry-sexual encounters were subjected to various interpretations. beyond immediacy the birth of languages and the establishment of sex codes, as primitive as they were, are related to the moment of agriculture, a juncture at which a certain autonomy of the species was reached. rooted in the biological distinction between male and female, labor division increased the efficiency of human effort. divisions were also established, some under the model of male domination, others under the model of female domination, pertinent to survival activities, and later on to incipient social life. eventually, labor division consecrated the profession of prostitution, and thus the practice of satisfying natural urges in a context in which nature was culturized. the prototypical male-dominated structure of the sexual relation between man and woman marked the history of this relation more than female domination did. it introduced patterns of interaction and hierarchies today interpreted wholesale as harmful to the entire development of women. what is probably less obvious is the relation among the many aspects of the pragmatic context in which such hierarchies were acknowledged. moreover, we do not know enough about how these hierarchies were transformed into the underlying consciousness of the populations whose identities resulted from experiences corresponding to the pragmatic context. the implicit thesis of this book is that everything that made language and writing possible, and progressively necessary, led to a coherent framework of human practical experiences that are characterized by sequentiality, linearity, hierarchy, and centralism, and which literacy appropriated and transmits. consequently, when the structural framework no longer effectively supports human self-constitution, the framework is modified. other aspects of human existence, among them sexuality, reflect the modification. reading and writing have much to do with our emotional life. they remove it from the immediacy of drive, hope, pain, and disappointment and give it its own space: human striving, desire, pleasure. they are associated with an infinity of qualifiers, names, and phrases. with language, feelings are given a means for externalizing, and they are stabilized. expectations diversify from there. structural characteristics of the context that makes language necessary simultaneously mark the very object of the self- constitutive experience of loving and being loved. there are many literary and visual testimonies to how the erotic was constituted as a realm of its own: from gilgamesh, the song of solomon, kama sutra, ovid's art of love, through canterbury tales and the decameron, to the erotic literature of th and th century europe, down to the many current romance novels and handbooks on lovemaking. no matter which of them is examined, one inference becomes clear: the pragmatic context of the continuous human self-constitution effects changes in the way people are attracted to each other. love and integration of sexual experiences, in the manifold of acts through which hominids move from the self-perpetuation drive to new levels of expectation and new intensities of their relations, is also pragmatically conditioned. writing, as a practical experience of human self-constitution, is conducive to relations between male and female that are different from random or selective mating. it is bound to continue along a time sequence severed from the natural cycle of mating, reshaped into the marriage contract and the family alliance. literacy, as a particular practical experience of language, regulates the sexual, as it regulates, in a variety of forms, all other aspects of human interaction. in the literate erotic experience, expectations pertinent to the pragmatics of a society in search of alternative means of survival evolve into norms. the inherited experience of female-male relations, affected through the experience of rituals, myths, and religion, is condensed in literacy. encoding hierarchy, some languages place women in a secondary position. there is almost no language in which this does not happen. "many men and women" is in arabic ("rijaalan kafiiran wa-nisaa'aa") literally "men many women." in japan, women speak a japanese reserved to their sex alone. in the english wedding ceremony, the woman had to repeat that she would "love, honor, and obey" the husband. to this day, orthodox jewish men give thanks to god that he did "not make me a woman." with the demise of literacy, the sexual experience gets divorced from procreation. statistics of survival in the past world of limited available resources, of natural catastrophes, of disease, etc., cease to play any role in the illiterate sex encounters. sexuality becomes a diversified human experience, subject to divisions, mediations, and definitely to the influence of the general dynamics of the world today. as markets become part of the global economy, so does sexuality, in the sense that it allows for experiences which, in limited communities and within prescribed forms of ceremony (religious, especially), were simply not possible. from the earliest testimony regarding sexual awareness up to the present, everything one can imagine in respect to sex has been tried. so often placed under the veil of secrecy and mystery, sex is no less frequently and vividly, to say the least, depicted. yet a rhetorical question deserves to be raised: does anyone know everything about sex? the land of sexual ubiquity borges, in his own way, would have probably mapped the sexual realm: freud aside, to know everything about sex would require that one be everyone who ever lived, lives, and eventually will live. such a borgesian map is indeed detailed but leads no further than ourselves. connect all sex-related matter that is on the internet today- from on-line striptease and copulation to legitimate sex education and the passionate defense of love-and you will still not have more than a partial image of sexuality. when one considers all the books, videotapes, songs, radio and television talk-shows, private discussions and public sermons, the subject of sex would still not be exhausted. if sex were an individual matter-which it is, to a large extent-how could we meaningfully approach the subject without the risk of making it a personal confession, or worse, a pretentious discourse about something any author would unavoidably know only through the many and powerful filters of his or her culture? but maybe sex is less private than we, based on prejudice, ignorance, or discretion, assume. ritualized sex was a public event, sometimes culminating in orgies. it took a lot of taming, or acculturation, for sex to become an intimate affair. myths acknowledged sexual habits and propagated rules coherent within the pragmatic framework of their expression. like myths, many religions described acceptable and unacceptable behavior, inspired by the need to maintain the integrity of the community and to serve its goals of survival through lineage and proprietary rights, especially when ales began to dominate in society. art, science, and business appropriated sex as a subject of inquiry, or as a lucrative activity. sex is a driving force for individuals and communities, an inescapable component of any experience, no matter how remote from sex. sexual ubiquity and the parallel world of self-awareness, embodied in forms of expression, communication, and signification different from the actual sexual act, are connected in very subtle ways. once sexual experiences are appropriated by culture, they become themselves a sign system, a symbolic domain, a language. each sexual encounter, or each unfulfilled intention, is but a phrase in this language written in the alphabet of gestures, odors, colors, smells, body movement, and rhythm. we are the sexual sign: first, in its indexical condition-a definite mark left, a genetic fingerprint testifying to our deepest secrets encoded in our genetic endowment; second, in iconicity, that is, in all the imitations of others as they constitute their identity in the experience of sexuality. as many scholars have hastened to point out, we are also the sign in its symbolism. indeed, phallic and vulvar symbols populate every sphere of human expression (and obsession). nevertheless, our own self-constitution in the sexual act confirms a double identity of the human species: nature, involved in the struggle for survival, where the sheer power of numbers and strategies for coping with everything destructive make for continuous selection (darwin's law of natural selection); and culture, in which humans pursue a path of progressive self-definition, many times in conflict with the natural condition, or what freud and his followers defined as the psychological dimension. the two are related, and under specific circumstances one dominates the other. in my opinion, peirce's encompassing notion that the sign is the person who interprets it integrates the two levels. in the pragmatic framework, experiences of self-constitution result from the projection of natural characteristics in the activity performed, as well as from the awareness of the goals pursued, means incorporated, and meanings shared. does the pragmatic perspective negate explanations originating from other, relatively limited, perspectives? probably not. an example is furnished by the theories explaining sexuality from the viewpoint of the conflict between sex (libido) and self-preservation (ego) instincts, later substituted by the conflict between life instincts (eros) and the death instinct (thanatos, self-destruction). such theories introduce a language layer into a subject which, although acknowledged, was simply not discussed, except in religious terms (mainly as prohibitions), or in poetry. as with any other dualistic representation, such theories also end in speculation, opposing the experience to the scheme adopted. the scheme functions in extreme cases, which psychoanalysis dealt with, but explains sexual normalcy-if such a thing can be defined, or even exists-to a lesser extent, and inconsistently. the labels remain unchanged-eros, logos, thanatos-while the world undergoes drastic alterations. some of these alterations affect the very nature of the sexual experience as human beings unfold under new pragmatic circumstances, some of extreme alienation. the literate invention of the woman the case i am trying to make is for the acknowledgment of the conflict between a new state of affairs in the world and our perspectives, limited or not by the literate model of sexuality. the current situation recalls the world before literacy, before the expectation of homogeneity, and before the attempt to derive order and complexity through linear progression. the atom of that sexual world was the genderless human being, a generic existence not yet defined by sexual differentiation. the male-female distinction came as a surprise-the realization of seeing the same and its negative, as in the case of a stone and the hole that remains after it is unearthed. some read the genderless world as androcentric, because the generic human being it affirmed had a rather masculine bent. the significance of whatever such a genderless model embodied needs to be established in the pragmatic realm: how does difference result from same, if this same is an archetypal body with characteristics celebrated copiously over time? painting, medical illustration, and diagrams, from the middle ages to the th century, focus on this genderless person, who seems today almost like a caricature. the pragmatics of the time period just mentioned were conducive to a different image of genders. the sense of excitement associated with human advances in knowing nature certainly spilled over into every other form of human experience, sex included. a new scale of mankind required that the efficiency of human activity increase. this was a time of many innovations and groundbreaking scientific theories. it was also a time of diversified, though still limited, sexual experiences, made possible by a framework of creativity different from the framework of the middle ages. discoveries in many domains shook the framework of thinking according to platonic archetypes, appropriated by the catholic church and used as explanatory models for all things living or dead. pragmatics required that the one-sex model be transcended because limits of efficiency (in thinking, medical practice, biological awareness, labor division) were reached within the model. the world of practical experiences of this time unfolded in the industrial revolution. with literacy established, some sexual attitudes, consonant with the pragmatic circumstance, were enforced. others were deemed unacceptable, and qualified as such in the literate language of church, state, and education. from the ubiquity of natural sexuality to what would become sexual self-awareness and sexual culture, no matter how limited, the journey continued in leaps and bounds. to acknowledge the woman as a biological entity, with characteristics impossible to reduce to male characteristics, was not due to political pressure-as thomas lacquer, a remarkable writer on the subject, seemed to believe-but to pragmatic needs. it simply made sense to know how the body functions, to acknowledge morphology, to improve the quality of life, however vaguely acknowledged as such, by addressing the richness of the human being. interestingly enough, the order in nature and matter found by science contradicted the new experience of variety, sexuality included, made possible by the scientific revolution. a gulf opened between reality and appearance, motivating a healthy empirical program, well extended in the realm of sexual encounters. back in the medium aevum, maximus of torino thought that "the source of all evil is the woman," probably embodied in the prototypical eve. the social importance of women in the context of the empirical program, leading to the need for generalized literacy and better knowledge of the human body, discredited this prejudice of the middle ages, and of any age since. sexuality made the transition to the two-sex world with a vengeance. reproduction still dominated, since incipient industry needed more qualified workers in its own reproduction cycles, and productivity triggered the need to maintain consumption. but the unnatural dimension widened as well. the context was population growth, limited means of birth control, and levels of production and consumption characteristic of the pragmatics of high efficiency. those who think that the relation between industry, sexuality, and reproduction is far-fetched should recall the birth policies of countries obsessed with industrial growth. in what was communist romania, workers were needed to do what there were no machines to do: to produce for the benefit of the owners of the means of production. to a similar end, the soviets handed out medals to mothers of many children. the government structure, bearing the characteristics of literacy, clashed with the harsh pragmatic framework existing in the former communist countries. the result of the clash was that women avoided birth at all cost. ahead to the past longer life and the ability to enjoy the fruits of industry altered attitudes towards sex, especially reproduction. sexuality and marriage were postponed to the third decade of life as people acquired more training in their quest for a better life. children were no longer a matter of continuity and survival. after decades of denying the strength of nature's drive towards self-perpetuation of a species, today we again recognize that sexual life starts very early. but this realization should not have come as a surprise. juliet's mother was worried that juliet was not married at the age of . beyond the realization of early sexuality, we notice that adolescents have multiple sex partners, that the average american is bound to have sex partners in his or her lifetime, that prohibitions against sodomy are ignored, and that half the population is involved in group sex. statistics tell us that % of the adult population uses pornography for arousal and another % uses contraptions bought in sex shops; - / % of married couples have extra-marital affairs; the average marriage lasts years; the open practice of homosexuality increases % annually. incest, bestiality, and sexual practices usually defined as perverse are reaching unheard of proportions. it's not that changes in sexual experience take place, but that practices known from the earliest of times assert themselves, usually by appealing to the literate notion of freedom. as with many aspects of the change human society undergoes, we do not know what the impact of these sex practices will be. probably that is the most one can say in a context that celebrates permissiveness as one of the highest accomplishments of modern society. such changes challenge our values and attitudes, and make many wonder about the miserable state of morality. we already know about the cause and physical effects of aids. we do not even know how to wonder what other diseases might come upon humanity if the human relation with animals moves in the direction of bestiality. "is this the price we pay for democracy?" is asked by people accused of having a conservative leaning. enthusiasts celebrate an age of unprecedented tolerance, indulgence, and freedom from responsibility. but no matter to which end of the spectrum one leans, it should be clear that these considerations are part of the pragmatics of sexuality in the civilization of illiteracy. shorter cycles are characteristic not only of production, but also of sexual encounters. higher speed (however one wants to perceive it), non-linearity, freedom of choice from many options, and the transcendence of determinism and clear-cut dualistic distinctions apply to sexuality as they apply to everything else we do. although it is a unique experience, impossible to transmit or compare, and very difficult to separate from the individual, sex is widely discussed. media, politicians, and social scientists have transformed it into a public issue; hypocrites turn it into an object of derision; professionals in sexual disorders make a good living from them. sex is the subject of economic prognosis, legal dispute, moral evaluation, astrology, art, sports, and so on. one should see what is made public on the world wide web. highly successful networked pages of pornographic magazines are visited daily by millions of people, as are pages of scientific and medical advice. questions referring to sexuality in its many forms of expression increase day by day. questions about sex have also extended to areas where the sexual seems (or seemed) excluded-science, technology, politics, the military. for example, the contraceptive pill, which has changed the world more than its inventors ever dreamed of, and more than society could have predicted, has also changed part of the condition of the sexual. the abortion pill (with a name-ru -that reminds us of computer chips) only accentuates the change, as do many scientific and technological discoveries conceived with the purpose of sexually stimulating the individual or augmenting sexual pleasure. emancipation-social, political, economic, as well as emancipation of women, children, minorities, nations-has also had an impact on sexual relations. as such, emancipation results from different pragmatic needs and possibilities, and reflects the weaker grip of literate norms and expectations. emancipation has reduced some of sexuality's inherent, and necessary, tension. it freed the sexual experience from most of the constraints it was subjected to in a civilization striving for order and control. still, individual erotic experiences have often culminated not in the expected revelations, stimulated by the use of drugs or not, but in deception, even desperation. this is explained by the fact that, more than any activity that becomes a goal in itself, sexuality without the background of emotional contentment constitutes individuals as insular, alienated from each other, feeling used but not fulfilled. lines of a similar sway were written by opponents of sexual emancipation, and as a suggestion of a price humans pay for excess. these lines were articulated also by firm believers in tolerance, free spirits who hardly entertain the thought of punishment (divine or otherwise). concerns over human sexuality result from the role of scale and the erotic dimension. within a smaller scale, one does not feel lost or ignored. small-scale experiences are constraining, but they also return a sense of care and belonging. the broader the scale, the less restrictive the influence of others, but also the more diminished the recognition of individuality. in the modern megalopolis, the only limits to one's sexual wishes are the limits of the individual. nonetheless, at such a scale, individuality is continuously negated, absorbed in the anonymity of mediocre encounters and commercialism. the realization that scale relates not only to how and how much we produce, and to changes in human interaction, but also to deeper levels of our existence is occasioned by the sexual experience of self-constitution in a framework of permissiveness that nullifies value. the human scale and the altered underlying structure of our practical experiences affect drives, in particular the sexual drive, as well as reproduction, in a world subjected to a population explosion of exponential proportions. the entire evolution under consideration, with all its positive and negative consequences, has a degree of necessity which we will not understand better by simply hiding behind moral slogans or acknowledging extreme sexual patterns. no person and no government could have prevented erotic emancipation, which is part of a much broader change affecting the human condition in its entirety. the civilization of illiteracy is representative of this change insofar as it defines a content for human experiences of self-constitution, including those related to sexuality, which mark a discontinuity in sexual patterns. sex dreams turn into sex scripts on virtual reality programs within which one can make love to a virtual animal, plant, to oneself, projected into the virtual space and time of less than clear distinctions between what we were told is right and wrong. telephone sex probably provides just as much arousal, but against fees that the majority of callers can hardly afford. less than surprising, lesbians and gays make their presence known on the internet more than in literate publications. discussions evolve, uncensored, on matters that can be very intimate, described in titillating terms, sometimes disquietingly vulgar, obscene, or base, by literate standards. but there are also exchanges on health, aids prevention, and reciprocal support. gay and lesbian sexuality is freely expressed, liberated from the code language used in the personal columns of literary publications. freud, modern homosexuality, aids the godfather of modern homosexuality is freud (independent of his own sexual orientation), insofar as sexual expression remains a symbolic act. homosexuality, evading natural selection and eliciting acceptance as an expression of a deeply rooted human complex, is part of the ubiquitous sexual experience of the species. the fact that homosexuality, documented in some of the earliest writings as a taboo, along with incest and bestiality, predated freud does not contradict this assertion. homosexual eros has a different finality than heterosexual eros. the extent of homosexuality under the structural circumstances of the civilization of illiteracy is not only the result of increased tolerance and permissiveness. neither is it merely the result of freedom resulting from an expanded notion of liberal democracy. it is biologically relevant, and as a biological expression, it is projected into practical experiences constitutive of individuals, men or women, acknowledged as different because their practical experience of self-constitution identifies them as different. their experience, though necessarily integrated in today's global world, has many consequences for them and for others. while research has yet to confirm the hypothesis of structural peculiarities in the brain and genes of homosexuals, the specifics of the self-constitution process through practical experiences in a world subject to natural selection cannot be overlooked. genetics tells us that the borderline between genders is less clear-cut than we assumed. be this as it may, homosexuality takes place under a different set of biological and social expectations than do heterosexuality and other forms of sexuality. it is an act in itself, with its own goal, with no implicit commitment to offspring, and thus different in its intrinsic set of responsibilities and their connection to the social contract. but for this matter, so is heterosexuality under the protection of the pill, the condom, or any other birth control device or method, abortion included. a different sense of future, moreover an expectation of instant gratification, is established in the sexual experience of homosexuality. exactly this characteristic acknowledges the underlying structure of the pragmatics of high efficiency that makes homosexual experiences possible, and even economically acceptable. acknowledged also is the scale of humankind. survival is much less affected by fruitless sexuality than within a limited scale of existence and activity. the freedom gained through birth control methods and the freedom to practice non-reproductive sexual relations, such as homosexual love, are in some ways similar. it is impossible not to notice that the development under discussion displays a shift from a domain of vulnerability in regard to the species-any imbalance in procreation, under conditions of severe selection, affects the chances of survival-to the domain of the individual. the extreme case of aids (acquired immune deficiency syndrome), which is transmitted sexually (among other ways), reintroduced moral concerns at a time when morality was almost dropped from erotic language and expelled from the human erotic experience. the frenzy of sexual freedom and the confusion resulting from the spread of aids present contradictory images of a much broader development that affects human erotic behavior, and probably much more than that. nobody, no doomsayer on record, whether coming from a literate perspective or already integrated in the pragmatics of the civilization of illiteracy, predicted the new vulnerability which aids makes so painfully evident, inside and outside the homosexual segment of the population. the integrated global nature of human life brought africa, with its large aids-infected population, close to countries that reached a different (not to use the word higher) level of civilization. aids impacted on the sense of invulnerability, assumed by individuals in industrialized countries as almost a right. this invulnerability is now drastically tested, despite the enormous effort to address aids. the disease suddenly put globality in a new light. statistics connect the sense of danger experienced in hollywood by hiv-infected movie stars, fashion designers, and dancers to the desperation of the disenfranchised in the first world-drug addicts, the urban poor, and prostitutes-and to the disenfranchised and working poor of the third world. far from being a new phenomenon, the homosexual and lesbian preference, or lifestyle as it is euphemistically called, reaches a status of controversial acceptance in the civilization of illiteracy. the paradox is that while the choice of homosexuality over heterosexuality is facilitated by the pragmatic context of the civilization of illiteracy, the activism of homosexuality solicits recognition within the structures characteristic of literacy. it is very ironic that gay activism, stimulated by the many consequences of the aids epidemic, attempts to reverse time, fighting for equal access to exactly those means in which the values and prejudices that condemn homosexuality are embedded. it looks like homosexuals want to rewrite the book or books in which they are damned, instead of freeing themselves from them. homosexuals want their voice to be heard in church and politics. they want their cause present in ethical writings, and their rights encoded in new laws and rules. they want to enlighten others by making their experience known as art, literature, and social discourse. the genetic condition of the homosexual choice needs to be considered together with the variety of contexts pertaining to the diversity of the civilization of illiteracy that make its unfolding possible. there is a need to be aware that, between the function of procreation and divergent sexual behavior, a whole gamut of human cultural experience continues to unfold and challenges settled standards. this experience goes beyond language and the literate structure of a linear, sequential, hierarchic, centralized, deterministic pragmatics of limited choice. human language, as a projection of human beings living within a context appropriate to their self-preservation and development, participated in the taming of our sexual drive. illiteracy leads to its endless diversification, affecting sexuality in all its manifestations, such as patterns of mobility and settlement, family and community life, social rules, and the encoding of values in moral, economic, and educational systems. orality and sexuality were characterized by immediateness, and a reduced sense of space and time. sex equaled instinct. with writing, and thus the possibility of what later would become literacy, a new set of underlying elements was acknowledged. sexuality was subjected to the experience of accepted rules-the do's and don'ts appropriate to expectations of efficiency, and their resulting values, corresponding to the scale of humankind and the natural condition. reproduction still dominated sexuality, while rules of optimal human interaction, encoded in religion or social expectations, started to permeate erotic behavior. to a great extent, language in its literate form expresses the awareness of the various erotic dimensions as they were socially acknowledged at any given time. literacy enrolled sexuality in the quest for higher productivity and sustained consumption characteristic of the pragmatics associated with the industrial revolution. once conditions making literacy necessary are overruled by new conditions, sexuality undergoes corresponding changes. basically, sexuality seems to return to immediateness, as it integrates many mediating elements. sexuality unfolds in an unrestricted set of varieties, escaping some of its natural determination. in keeping with the shorter and shorter cycles of human activity, sexuality turns into an experience of transitory encounters. since it is a form of human expression, it ascertains its condition as yet another sign system, or language, among the many participating in the practical experiences of our new pragmatic context. it now bridges dramatically between life and death, in a world where the currency of both life and death is, for all practical purposes, devaluated. sex and creativity experts from fields as different as brain research, cognitive science, and physiology agree that a distinct similarity between the practical experience of self- constitution in sexual acts and in creative efforts of art, scientific discovery, and political performance can be established. it seems that they all involve a progression, reach a peak, experienced as enormous pleasure and relief, and are followed by a certain feeling of emptiness. like any creative experience, the erotic experience is one of expression. to express means to constitute oneself authentically, and to project hope that the experience can impact others. from this stems the possible language, or semiotics, of the erotic: how it is expressed, what the erotic vocabulary (of sounds, words, gestures, etc.) and grammar are. the semiosis of the erotic includes the participation of the language of sexual relationships, without being limited to it. having reached this understanding, we can apply it to the observation that homo eroticus is a subject who continuously negates naturalness (from what and how we eat to how we dress, etc.) while simultaneously regretting the loss. not surprisingly, sexuality is continued in the practice of producing, reading, viewing, and criticizing erotic literature, printed images, video, film documentaries, cd-rom, or virtual reality. real- time interactive erotic multimedia captures even more attention. in parallel, humans try to be authentic, unique, and free in their intimate sphere. they scan through image- dominated books, some more than vulgar, subscribe to magazines, face their own sexuality on videotapes, register for sex initiation seminars, or take advantage of group sex encounters. millions land on pornographic websites or create their own sex messages in the interconnected world. they do all this in an attempt to free themselves from natural necessity and from the conformist frame of literate eros, including the many complexes explaining painful real or imaginary failures. living in an environment in which science and technology effectively support human experiences of overcoming the constraints of space, time, and material existence, humans freed sexuality from the influence of natural cycles. these, as we know, can even be altered as pragmatic conditions might require for sportswomen and ballerinas. new totems and taboos populate this environment in which eros, as a reminder of distant phases of anthropological evolution, continues to be present. like any other creative act, the sexual act involves imagination, and the urge to explore the unknown. it is irrepeatable, yet another instance of discovering one's identity in the uniqueness of the experience. although continuously programmed through endlessly refined means, humans maintain a nostalgia for the authentic, but accept, more often unconsciously than not, a mediocre syntax of the sexual impressed upon them from the world of celebrity and success. this syntax is a product of erotic experts, writers, and imagemakers. it is a contentless semantics-the meaning of erotic encounters fades in the meaning of the circumstance-and an absurd pragmatics-sexuality as yet another form of competition, deliriously celebrated by mass media. while artificial insemination was a scientific breakthrough, it is also symptomatic of the process analyzed here, in particular of the changes in the underlying structure leading to the civilization of illiteracy. artificial insemination is part of this background; so is the entire genetic research that resulted in our ability to design not only new plants and animals with expected characteristics, but also human beings. specialization reached a point where the market can satisfy a new type of consumption, in this case represented by artificial insemination, under acceptable economic conditions. whether a pill, or aesthetic insemination, will ever make those who desire to be artists become creative is still to be seen. (the same holds true for science, politics, and any other creative career.) but we have already seen the dissemination of tools (mainly computer- based) that give many the illusion of becoming abruptly talented, as some women discover that they are abruptly fecund because they found the right pill, or the right gynecologist, to make the impossible happen. as part of contemporary society's generalized illiteracy, erotic illiteracy is eloquently illustrated by the pervasiveness of sex in art. the transition from pornography to artistic pornography corresponds to the search of those human obsessions that legitimize art's appropriation of territories considered taboo. as some see it, once freed from the constraints implicit in the pragmatic framework relying on literacy, art and sexuality intensified their reciprocal influence. aesthetic concerns changed from elaboration and method to improvisation and process. the expectation of education or therapeutics gave way to triggering excitement, more obliquely sexual excitement. striptease has moved from the back alleys of bigoted enjoyment into movie theaters, museums, prime time television, the internet. and so has the language of arousal, the voice of pleasure, the groan of post-coital exhaustion, or disappointment from teleporn services to the pay-per-session websites, where credit card numbers are submitted without fear of their being used beyond payment for the service. in certain countries still under a literate regimen, the problem of pornography has been solved by administrative prohibitions; in others, a solution arises from blind market logic. the market acknowledges the various aspects of sexuality in the civilization of illiteracy through products and services geared towards all those involved. many market semioses work in this direction-from the pornographic sites on the internet to the red light districts where risk can be generously rewarded. sometimes the market's attention leads to unexpected changes in what is marketed, and how previous acceptable codes of sexual behavior are revised and new codes publicly sanctioned. the many forms of advertisement catering to homosexuals, sexploitation, gendered sexuality, group experiences, while never using one qualifier or another, are quite explicit in identifying their public and the patterns of behavior characteristic for this public. means used for this purpose correspond to those of the civilization of illiteracy. there is, probably, no other medium of more precise narrow casting of sexual wares, from legitimate to scandalously base, than that of the networked world. in the framework of literacy, the erotic (as all other creative contributions) was idealized in many respects. language projected the erotic experience as one that transcended sexuality, leading to stable and selective male-female relationships within the boundaries of the family characteristic of industrial society. in time, various value representations, symptomatic of a peculiar understanding of the differences between man and woman, and stored in the language of customs and rituals, took over the substance of the erotic and made form predominant. literacy and the ceremonies celebrating the erotic-especially marriage and wedding anniversaries-are connected far beyond what most would accept on first reflection. the fact that the civilization of illiteracy took over these ceremonies, and created a service sector able to provide a substitute for an instance that used to signify commitment only proves how ubiquitous the expectation of high efficiency is. the vows that made marriage a social event, sanctioning the implicit sexual component of the contract, and sometimes celebrating more prejudice than tolerance, are expectations expressed in literate language and submitted for public validation. whether newlyweds knew what they signed-or did not know how to sign-does not change the fact that the institution was acknowledged in the integrating reality of language. equal access to erotic mediocrity once the homogeneous image of society breaks, and sexuality more than previously turns into another market commodity (prostitution, in its hetero- and homosexual forms), once morals and direct commitments are substituted by rules of efficiency and population control, the language of the erotic is emptied. it is useless to accuse people of lower moral standards without understanding that, under new conditions of human experience, these standards simply embody ways of achieving the efficiency that this civilization of illiteracy strives for. to own your partner, as the marriage certificate is interpreted by some, and to buy pleasure or perversion as one buys food or clothing, are two different contexts for the self-constitution of the individual. it is much cheaper-and i cringe to state this so bluntly-to buy sexual pleasure, regardless how limited and vulgar it can be, than to commit oneself to a life of reciprocal responsibility, and unavoidable moments of inequity. the economic equation is so obvious that facing it, one ends up discouraged. but this equation is part of the broader equation of high expectations defining the illiterate practical experience of self- constitution in a world of a very large scale. in this equation, access to pornographic sites on the internet can indeed appear to some as an issue of freedom of speech or freedom of choice. even those living outside the platinum and diamond belt of wealth and prosperity partake in the illiterate expression of sexuality as this created global markets of prostitution, pornography, and vulgarity, or widely opened the doors to sexual experimentation. from food, music, and photography, to video, films, and clothing, almost everything seems to address sexuality, moreover, to stimulate it. crime and sex drive the market (the art market included) more than anything else. all age groups are addressed on their own biological and cultural terms; all backgrounds, including ethnic and religious, are involved in the fabric of sex messages. one million children are forced yearly into the sex market, the majority of them from poor countries. people who do not know how to read or write, and who probably never will, live under the seduction of the calvin klein label and will imitate the lascivious moves of the models through which they learn about them. enormous numbers of people who might not have appropriate shelter, or enough food, buy madonna videos and indulge in the fantasy that sexual freedom embodies in their particular illiterate expression. today, humans no longer share a literate notion of the sexual, but display a multitude of attitudes and involve themselves in a variety of experiences, which include the expectation of a common denominator, such as the family used to be. humans tamed their own nature and discovered, at the peak of what seemed to become a collective sense of invulnerability, that there are still points of individual vulnerability. some are reviving hopes of chastity and clean marriages, of generalized heterosexuality-in short, of a return to the safe shores of an idealized erotic experience of the past. sexuality, however, always had its bright and dark sides. suffice it to recall the explicit images in the ruins of pompeii, or those in indian and japanese art. sometimes, not even our most aggressive sex magazines, porno shops, hollywood crap, and internet sites equal their boldness. but people have managed to hide the dark side, or at least what could be construed as such, and to propagate, through literacy, the sublime erotic poem, the clean erotic novel, the romance, the love songs and dances, and everything else testifying to the sublime in love. what is new in the context of the civilization of illiteracy is that one side no longer excludes the other. to be is to be different, even if the biological equation of only two sexes seems so limiting. becoming more indirect and transitory, human relations affect sexuality and the ability to cope with what is defined as deviant erotic behavior in respect to tradition. aids will not turn back events that made the current pragmatic context necessary. rather, it will add to the demystifying of love and sex, and thus effectively bridge between genetic research and the self-perpetuation drive of the species, rationalized in formulas meeting higher levels of efficiency, resources, and human reproduction. such formulas, more sophisticated than the progressions malthus used, are already tested by various organizations concerned with strategies for avoiding human self-destruction by overpopulation. a condom is cheaper than giving birth; all the pills women swallow over a lifetime are far less costly than taking care of one child. it should not surprise that japan, committed to all the values of literacy and the sexuality attached to them, is reluctant to adopt the pill. the country has a very low birth rate, so low that its leaders are justified in fearing that soon japan will not have enough people to fuel the economy through production and consumption. still, japan sees a relation between the pill and the state of morality as part of the cultural homogeneous fabric on which it relies. nobody really doubts that the globality of human experience, to which japan contributed through its productive genius probably more than any country, will catch up with it. sexually, the literate japanese are no less daring than the illiterate americans. to continuously tend towards having more at the cheapest price-in many ways an expression of rape of other people's work and resources-means to exhaust not only the object, but also the subject. rape, one of the most heinous crimes people commit, generalized in political and economic rape, projects sexuality and its powerful action even outside the biological realm of human life. to want all (especially all at once) means to want nothing in particular. at the end of the total sexual experience lies nothing but disappointment for some; for others, the next experience. profoundly subjective, deeply individual, unique and irrepeatable, human sexuality has meaning only to the extent that it remains an integrating factor, relating individual destiny to that of the species. the similarity between the creative and sexual acts might explain why changes similar to those occurring in erotic experience can be identified in the artistic, scientific, or political practice of the civilization of illiteracy. unless we understand the many implications of such changes, we would only leap into a vortex of wild conjecture. family is the part of the experience of human self-constitution in which such implications are most likely to have a profound effect. family: discovering the primitive future a paradox has developed: homosexuals want to establish families and to have them acknowledged by society. adults who have children choose to avoid the family contract. well over % of the children born in the usa are born out of wedlock. in the pragmatic equation of human self-constitution, these facts bear deeper signification. commenting before a television camera after a celebrity divorce trial, an onlooker remarked that there is more communication in preparing a pre-nuptial agreement than during a marriage. as exaggerated and imprecise (communication between whom-the couple or their representatives?) as this remark probably is, it nevertheless captures some traits of family life in our age. indeed, families are constituted on the basis of economic agreements, mediated by lawyers and financial consultants. the risk of family breakdown is carefully integrated in the calculations establishing the viability of the marriage. children are part of the calculation-minus the long-lasting emotional effects-as are the odds for illness, disability, and liabilities, such as living parents and siblings who might need assistance, or obligations due to previous marriages. the curves registering amount of time the recently married spend together reveals that once the agreement is signed, dialogue shrinks to less than eight hours a week, which is well below the time spent watching television-almost seven hours a day-or devoted to physical exercise. if surfing the net is part of the newlyweds' life, there is even less dialogue. typically, both partners in the marriage work, and this affects other aspects of family life besides dialogue. when children arrive, the time parents spend with them decreases progressively from the days following birth through the critical years of high school. it is reported that on the average, youngsters in the usa get their parents' attention for less than four hours a week. in some european countries, this time can reach eight to ten hours. on the asian sub-continent, many children lose contact with their parents before the age of six. statistics show that over a quarter of the american student population planning to enroll in college never discuss their high school programs, or necessary preparation courses, with their fathers. close to half this amount never discuss their plans with their mothers (single or not). the same holds true for students in italy, france, and belgium. divorce percentages, abortion rates, number of partners over one's lifetime, and hours spent with the family in meaningful exchange of ideas or in common tasks express a condition of the family that reflects the dynamics of today's human practical experiences. over million children under the age of eighteen years live with one parent (mainly the mother). economics (income level, joblessness, opportunity) plays a critical role in the life of the young and of their progenitors. all the changes leading to the civilization of illiteracy affect the experience of family life, and result in radical changes of the family model itself. faster rhythms of experiences leading to casual relationships and to forming a family are on record. shorter cycles during which the experience is exhausted result in increasingly unstable relations and families. permanence is no longer the expectation in marriage. throughout society, clear-cut distinctions between morally right and wrong are being replaced by situation ethics. increased mediation, through counselors, lawyers, doctors, and financial planners, explains the new efficiency of the family as short-lived interaction and cooperation. the factors mentioned characterize the new pragmatic framework of human existence in which a new kind of interpersonal commitment is made and a new type of family is established, not unlike the short-lived corporations that are exhausted as soon as their product's potential has been reached. in this pragmatic framework, family-like interactions harking back to the civilization of literacy, with its hierarchy and central authority and the promise of stability and security, are considered the only alternative to the new situation of the family. the people who consciously seek this alternative discover that the family is bound by relatively loose connections and that reciprocally advantageous distributed tasks replace family unity. mediated and segmented experiences and vague commitments, which evolve into a frame of vague morality, dominate family life today. marriages of expediency, undertaken to solve some difficulty-such as resident status in some countries, health insurance, care for one's old age, better chances at a career- illustrate the tendency. once the conditions for the perpetuation and dissemination of values associated with literacy are no longer granted, at the current globally integrated scale of humankind, family life changes fundamentally. even the notion of family is questioned. family unity, reflected in the coherent pragmatic framework afforded by literacy, is replaced by individual autonomy and competition. an array of options greater than the one feasible at the scale characteristic of agricultural or industrial economy, presents itself to adults and children in their practical experiences of self-constitution. nobody escapes the temptation of trying and testing in the multiple of choices that are characteristic of the civilization of illiteracy. there are many facets to what is called family. the concept displays ample variety in its perceived or construed meaning. sexual instincts manifested as attraction, associated with the awareness of the consequence of reproduction, might lead the list in defining what it took to establish a family. at the same level of importance is the need to establish a viable unity of economic, cultural, and psychological significance, a framework, sanctioned by religious and political entities, for carrying out obligations significant to the community. these, and a number of additional elements, such as morality based on the pragmatics of health, inter-generational exchange of information and aid, social functions ensuring survival and continuity through cooperation and understanding with other families, are tightly connected. the nature of this interconnectedness is probably a much better identifier of what, under given socio- historical circumstances, is considered and experienced as family. togetherness dictionaries point to the broader meaning of an extended notion of family-all living in a household-with the root of the word extending to all the servants, as well as to blood relations and descendants of the same progenitor. what is probably missing from such a definition is the understanding of interconnectedness, more specifically, awareness of the role played by agents of connection, among which language, in general, and literacy, in particular, become relevant. much has been written concerning the change from animal-like sexual drive to the formation of family; much, too, about the many specific forms of practical experiences through which families were established and maintained. the history of the human family captures the nature of the relations between man and woman, parents and offspring, near and distant kin, and between generations. natural aspects of production and reproduction, and cultural, social, political, and ethnic elements are also expressed through the family. its reality extends even to the area of interdependencies between the language of individuals constituting families as viable survival units, and the language of the community within which family is acknowledged. whether female- or male-dominated, as the pragmatic context afforded, the family ascertains a sense of permanency against the background of need and flux. it is another constitutive practical experience involving the projection of individual biological characteristics in the context of life and work, an experience that progressively extended beyond biology into its own domain of expectations and values, and finally into its own effectiveness. in search of a family nucleus, we arrive at female, male, offspring. the biological structure is maintained by some bond, probably a combination of factors pertaining to survival (the economy of family), emotions, sexual attraction (which includes psychological aspects), and ways of interacting with the extended family and with other families (social aspects). but beyond this, little else can be stated without causing controversy. within each family, there is a maternal and a paternal line. in some family types, mother and father together feed the children, introduce them to survival tactics, and train their family instincts. in other cases, only one parent assumes these functions. the implicit linearity of family relations unfolds through new family associations. anthropological research reports in detail how families are established. the pragmatic aspect is decisive. in melanesia, the goal is to acquire brothers-in-law who will join the woman's family in hunting, farming, and other activities. margaret mead described the rule of not marrying those one fights. expressed in language, this rule has a normative quality. nevertheless, in some tribes in kenya, enemies marry to ensure that they become friends. the language expressing this strategy is more suggestive than imperative. research also documents variations from the nuclear model. the nayar, a population in india, consecrates a family in which children belong to the maternal line; fathers visit. the woman can have as many lovers as she desires. the semiosis of naming children reflects this condition. rules established over time in some countries are indicative of peculiar pragmatic requirements: polygamy in societies where marriage is the only form of protection and fulfillment for women; polyandry in societies with a high man to woman ratio; uxorilocation (the new couple resides in the wife's home territory), and virilocation (the new couple resides in the husband's home territory). the scale at which family self-constitution takes place affects its effectiveness. when this scale reaches a certain threshold or critical size, structural changes take place. the family, in its various embodiments, and within each specific pragmatic framework, reflected these major changes in the human scale of mankind at many levels. from the first images documenting families over , years ago, in the paleolithic age, to the paintings at sefar (tassili des ajjer, th century bce), and to many other subsequent forms of testimony, we have indicators of change in family size, the nature of family hierarchy, inheritance mechanisms, restrictions and prohibitions (incest foremost), and above all, change in the family condition when the pragmatic context changes. the testimony extends to cemeteries: it matters who is buried with whom or close to whom; to the evolution of words: what beneviste called glottochronology; to contracts. marriage contracts, such as the cuneiform tablet of kish, dated bce, or contracts documenting the sale of land, in which the family tree of the sellers is reproduced as testimony that the entire family accepts the transaction, shed light on the evolution of family. when aristotle stated "each city is made up of families," he acknowledged that a stage of stabilized family relations had been reached, well adapted to the stabilizing pragmatic framework facilitated by the new practical experience of writing. by aristotle's time, togetherness was designated through a name. the expectation at this scale of human relations was: without a name there is no social existence. characteristics of sign processes pertinent to self-constitution as members of various family types become characteristic of the family. that is, the structure of family-based semiotic processes and the structure of the family are similar. rudimentary signs, incipient language, oral communication, notation, and writing are stages in the semiosis of means of expression and communication. the sign processes of family develop in tandem. the quest for permanency at the time literacy became possible and necessary, it embodied an idiom of effective relations, both synchronically-at a given instance of those relations-and diachronically-over time, such as from one generation to another, each attached to the same use of language in writing, reading, and speaking. it is precisely the need to achieve efficiency, in every human endeavor, that assigns to the family the function of co-guarantor of tradition. even before the possibility of literacy, language carried the do's and don'ts transmitting rules, based on the practical experience, that ensured survival through cooperation and new ways to satisfy direct needs and respond to expectations-rules that affected the efficiency of each practical experience. the family appropriated these requirements, shaping them into a coherent framework for efficient togetherness. directness, sequentiality, linearity, centralism, cooperation, and determinism marked the family experience as it marked other experiences of human self-constitution. family members relied directly on each other. as one male assumed the role of provider, and the female, or females, of caretaker, a certain structure of dependence was put in place, resulting in hierarchy and sub- hierarchies. family activity involved repetitive and sequential phases related to survival: reproductive cycles of animals; the progression of seasons and its relation to agriculture (rainy and dry, cold and hot, long days and short days). the pragmatics of survival seemed determined; there was little choice in method and timing. the family took shape in a world of cause-and-effect, which also determined religious practices. the source of each rule for successful family life was direct practical experience; the test of validity was the effectiveness appropriate to the specific scale of humanity. the do's changed over time, as experience confirmed their efficiency. they became a body of accepted knowledge from which moral ideals are extracted, laws derived, and political action inspired within the context of literacy. in the industrial equation, output (products, end results, increase or profit) should equal or exceed input (raw materials, energy, human effort). the don'ts, adopted by religion, law, and rudimentary medical praxis, were engraved in language even more deeply. they were encoded together with punishments that reflected the urgency behind preserving the integrity of the family- based pragmatic framework, in the experience of the agricultural and, later on, the industrial model. the association between act and result was continuously scrutinized in a world of action and reaction. in a world of experience mediated through literacy, rules were followed for their own sake; or rather, for the sake of the permanence that literacy embodied. that at some time sexual relations outside marriage could be the cause of so many prohibitions and dire punishment, mainly for women, does not bear as much significance on the state of morals as upon the pragmatic implications of the act of infidelity and wantonness. these implications refer to lineage, continuity, and inheritance, psychological effects on other family members, health, and status of offspring born out of wedlock. rules regarding family integrity were encoded in the language of custom, ritual, and myth. later on they were encoded in the language of religion, philosophy, ethics, law, science, ideology, and political discourse. eventually, they were recorded in the rules of the market. filtered over time through a variety of experiences resulting in success or failure, they are acknowledged in culture, and adopted in the language of education, and probably most directly in the language of market transactions. to give birth meant to continue the sequence and enhance the chances of survival; to rear children to adulthood meant to afford new levels of efficiency. more people could be more effective in ensuring survival in a pragmatic framework of direct action and immediacy. beyond a certain scale, it became effectively impossible to coordinate the complex of families that went into the entire family. city life, even in early cities, was not propitious to extended families. during this period, the strategy of labor division took over undifferentiated, direct execution of tasks. over time, as the scale of human experience changed, community expectations were reflected in what used to be the domain of the individual or that of families. the term over time needs some clarification. the first phases to which we refer are of very slow change. from the initial indications of family-like relations up to the establishment of language families, the time span is greater than , years. from nuclei practicing agriculture to the first notation and writing, the time is in the range of , to , years. from then on, the cycles became more compressed: less than , years to the time religions were established, another , years to settlement in cities. each moment marks either progressive changes in the pragmatic framework or radical change, when the scale of human life and work required different means to meet efficiency expectations. language acquisition, settlement of populations, development of writing, the emergence of philosophy, science and technology, the industrial revolution, and the civilization of illiteracy are the six changes in the scale of humankind, each with its corresponding pragmatic framework. many agents of influence contribute to the change from one pragmatic framework to another: climactic conditions, natural selection, the environment, religions, communal rules, distribution of resources, and the experience of the market. regardless of the difference in languages, language use is probably the common experience through which natural changes are acknowledged and social differentiation effected. exactly what made literacy necessary-the need to achieve levels of efficiency corresponding to the human scale that led to industrial society-made the corresponding type of family necessary. families reproduced the needed working force and transmitted the literacy required to attain the efficiency of qualified work. such work was accomplished in a setting fundamentally different from that of immediate, direct, practical experiences with nature (farming, animal husbandry), or small-scale craftsmanship. literacy was fostered by the family as a means of coordination and as a universal language of human transactions. this is how family fulfills the function of co- guarantor of education. conversely, among the forms through which the future contract of literacy was acknowledged, family is one. the pragmatic need for permanency reflected in the expectation of the stable family has many consequences inside and outside family life. these can be witnessed in the spirit and letter of contractual obligations people enter under the coordinating power of the literate commitment. education, law, politics, religion, and art are impregnated with this spirit. as the ultimate family-the homogeneous family of families-the nation asserts its permanency as a reflection of the permanency of its constituent atoms. when deterioration occurs in the conditions that make literacy possible and necessary, many of the permanencies associated with literacy, including the interpersonal relations adapted to it, or the homogeneity of nations, fail. as we entertain the prospect that nations, as definable political entities, might disappear, we automatically wonder whether the family, as a definable social entity, will survive-and if yes, in what form. what breaks down when family fails? the downfall of nations and empires has been attributed to the breakdown of the family. the weakening of family has been cited as a cause of the decline and fall of the roman empire. anti-abortionists and other traditionalists in the united states blame the breakdown in traditional family values for many of the social ills of our day. now that the royal children in great britain are divorced, people wonder how long the monarchy will last. one of the symptoms of the civilization of illiteracy is the perceived breakdown of family. simultaneously, other institutions, such as schools, the church, the military, embodying permanency and stability, are undergoing drastic reassessment. in a broad sense, a transition from one way of life to another has been taking place. but things are a little more confusing since what used to be is not always actually replaced by something else, but rescaled, turned into a possibility among many, in a dynamics of ever-expanding diversity and wider choices. many have argued that the breakdown of the traditional family was inevitable. they bring up cultural, ideological, and socio- economic arguments-from the liberation of women and children to the exhausted model of the patriarchal structure. all these arguments are probably partially right. after previous economies of scarcity and limited means of production, human experience at the global scale has brought about a wealth of choices and means of affluence that question the very premise of the family contract. in a context of rapid change from the practical experience of authority to the pragmatics of endless choice, subsumed under the heading of freedom, the permanency of the family structure comes under the methodical doubt of our new patterns of praxis. the tension between choice and authority was experienced in family life in the specific context of human relations based on hierarchy and centralism. new questions have a bearing on sexuality, parent-child relations, interactions among families, and the whole social fabric. likewise, the transition of what was projected as self-control-with elements of self-denial, for the sake of family, a form of internalized authority-to the discovery of new frontiers, and the alternative pursuit of self- indulgence, follows the same path. these new frontiers and alternatives make values appear relative and undermine the spirit of sharing implicit in the traditional experience of family. sharing is replaced by strategies of coordination and wealth preservation, all involving many mediating elements, such as political power, the legal system, taxation, charity. it is argued, probably with good reason, that the high rate of divorce-the socially sanctioned breakdown of a family, but probably only relatively indicative of the breakdown-is not meaningful unless put in a broader context: how many people still marry, how many remarry, how much longer people live. the high rate of divorce at the end of world war ii is symptomatic of events above and beyond the structural characteristics of family constitution, re-constitution, or breakdown. the rate of divorce in the years following the war, especially in the last - years, is nevertheless connected to the underlying structure of a pragmatic framework within which permanency, whether that of language, family, values, nations, laws, art, or anything else, becomes a liability because it affects the dynamics of change. one out of two marriages-and the proportion is changing quite fast-ends in divorce. this is, nevertheless, only one aspect of broader modifications making such a rate more of a qualifier than an accident in human pairing. the dynamics of reproduction-births per marriage, average number of children per family, children living with one parent, infant mortality-is significant from the perspective of one of the most important functions of family. in the pragmatic context of today's integrated world, the need to have many children in order to maintain continuity and viability is different, even in bangladesh, afghanistan, or africa, than at any previous time. the species has practically freed itself from the direct pressure of natural selection. what is at work, even in areas of extreme poverty, is a perverted mechanism of interdependencies echoing what herders in east africa expressed as: "he who has children does not sleep in the bush." the family has ceased to be the sole source of welfare. its functions are taken over by the community, the state, even international organizations. the fact that in some parts of the world this structural change is not acknowledged, and very high birth rates are on record, shows that the result of ignoring the pragmatic exigencies of this new age adds to the burden, not to the solution. another phenomenon difficult to assess is the single woman who decides to give birth. if individual or social material resources are available, moral and educational needs or expectations still remain to be addressed. individualism fostered to the extreme partially explains the trend, but cannot satisfactorily indicate the many aspects of this new phenomenon characteristic of the civilization of illiteracy. if one reads the statistics, single parenthood appears like a sure winner in the lottery of poverty and frustration. the problems of children who will be growing up with a mother single by choice will be the source of much sociological and psychoanalytical research in the future. but existence is more than numbers in ledgers, or psychological predicaments. self-fulfillment, the instinct to nurture and to ensure continuity are all at work in such cases. the homosexual family no group has done more in the way of forcing us to rethink the definition and role of family as homosexuals have. within the civilization of illiteracy, homosexuals assert their identity in the public eye. gay and lesbian groups fight for the ratification of the homosexual family, which could not even be conceived of within the pragmatics associated with literacy. their fight corresponds to a practical experience that is not motivated by the self-perpetuation drive of the species, but by other forces. these are economic, social, and political-the right to enjoy the same benefits as members of heterosexual families. interestingly enough, social principles adopted in the age when pragmatics required that society support childbirth, family nurturing, and education are extended today, under totally different circumstances, in ignorance of the necessities that were reflected in these principles. a tax deduction was an expression of social co- participation, since society needed more people, better educated youth, a stable framework of family life. the economy and the military could not succeed without the fresh flesh of new generations. gays and lesbians challenge the traditional notion of family in a context that no longer requires hierarchy and that redefines roles that have become stereotypes and undemocratic. they propose a model on a continuum in which each partner can be provider and assume household duties to any degree. there are no clear-cut roles, no clear-cut hierarchy, and no long-term commitments. children are not the consequence of sexual relations but of desire and choice. this choice has two aspects of special significance for the pragmatics of our age. one concerns the human desire to form an alliance in the form of family, which seems almost instinctual. it may be difficult to recognize a natural inclination in a context (homosexuality) that negates propagation of the species. it is this threat to survival that caused so many taboos to be placed on homosexuality in the first place. these taboos took on other dimensions when encoded in a literacy that ignored the pragmatics. the second aspect has to do with the extent to which homosexuals' desire for a family constitutes its own validity in the pragmatic framework of our time. to what extent does the desire to have a family reveal characteristics of human self-constitution in the current context? in a world in which there is a high rate of births out of wedlock, a world in which the traditional family is no guarantee of relationships free of abuse and exploitation, a world with great numbers of children in orphanages or in foster care, any desire to place children in a loving family context is worthy of attention. what constitutes a family in an age whose pragmatics is not defined by the values perpetuated in and through literacy? the new definition might go along these lines: main provider (the father role); second provider (the mother role), who is also manager of the household. the two roles are not polarized; each provider participates in household work and in salaried work outside the home, as circumstances require. a child is a dependent under the age of years (or years if in college), for whom the providers are legally responsible. a grandparent is qualified through age and willingness to assume the role. aunt/uncle is someone with fraternal ties to the providers. the definitions can go on. in considering these literate definitions, we can see that they apply to the situation of the current traditional family as well, in which father and mother both work, in which a child may live with and be cared for by a parent's second or third spouse, in which distance from or lack of blood relations calls for ad hoc relatives. the most vital implications concern our culture as it has been passed down over the centuries through literate expression, laden with values that literacy perpetuates and endows with an aura, in defiance of the new pragmatics and the new scale in which humans operate. the homosexual family and its occasional focus on adopting children reflects the fact that we live in a world of many options, and consequently of very relative values. their desire for a family, under circumstances that are far from being conducive to family life, is as valid as that of an unmarried woman who wants to give birth and rear a child (the one-parent household). it is as valid as the desire of infertile couples who use every means the market offers to have a child, through costly medical intervention or by hiring surrogates. in the civilization of illiteracy, each person forms his or her own definition of family, just as people form their own definitions of everything else. the only test of validity is, ultimately, effectiveness. in the long run, the biological future of the species will also be affected, one way or another, as part of the effectiveness equation. to want a child the new pragmatics ultimately affects the motives behind forming a family in the civilization of illiteracy. marriage, if at all considered, has become a short-term contract. its brevity contradicts marriage's reason for being: continuity and security through offspring and adaptation to life cycles. the attitudes with which partners enter the family contract result in a dynamic of personal relations outside of that sanctioned by society. vows are exchanged more as a matter of performance than of bonding. natural instincts are systematically overridden through mediating mechanisms for providing nourishment, acquiring health care, and settling conflicts. child rearing is the result of pragmatic considerations: what does a couple, or single parent, give up in having a child? can a mother continue working outside the home? in order to correctly qualify answers to these questions, we would need to acknowledge that many characteristics of the individuals constituting a family, or seeking alternatives to it, are reflected in the family experience, or in experiences that are parallel to it. economic status, race, religion, culture, and acculturation play an important role. literacy assumed homogeneity and projected expectations of uniformity. the new pragmatic framework evidences the potential of heterogeneous experiences. data indicating that the average numbers of divorces, single-parent households, number of partners, etc. vary drastically among groups of different biological, cultural, and economic backgrounds shows how necessary it is to realistically account for differences among human beings. let us take a look at some statistical data. but before doing that, let us also commit ourselves to an unbiased interpretation, free of any racial prejudice. almost % of black children in the usa are living in a one-parent household. of these children, % live with their mothers. it was documented that % of the juveniles in long-term correctional facilities grew up without a father. to make any inference from such data without proper consideration of the many factors at work would only perpetuate literacy-based prejudices, and would not lead to a better understanding of the new circumstances of human self-constitution. our need to understand the dynamics of family and what can be done to effect a course of events that is beneficial to all involved cannot be served unless we understand the many characteristics of the practical experience of self-constitution of the black family, or of any non-standard western family. under the expectations of literacy, a prototypical family life was to be expected from all. as the expectation of homogeneity is overridden by all the forces at work in the civilization of illiteracy, we should not be surprised by, and even less inclined to fasten blame on people who constitute themselves in ways closer to their authenticity. multiplication of choice is-let me state again-part of the civilization of illiteracy. modern, enlightened laws introduced in some african countries prohibit polygamous families. with this prohibition in place, a new phenomenon has occurred: husbands end up having extra-marital affairs and support neither their lovers nor their children, which they did under polygamy. paradoxically, activists in the women's liberation movement are seriously considering the return to polygamy, as an alternative to the increasing number of deadbeat dads and the misery of abandoned wives and children. there is no necessary relation between the two examples, rather the realization that within the civilization of illiteracy, tradition comes very powerfully to expression. children in the illiterate family nobody can characterize families of the past (monogamous or polygamous) as unfailingly unified and showing exemplary concern for offspring. children, as much as wives and husbands, were abused and neglected. concern over education was at times questionable. the projected ideal of authority and infallibility resulted in the perpetuation of patterns of experiences from which we are still fighting to free ourselves. notwithstanding these and other failures, we still have to acknowledge that a shift, from individual and family responsibility to a diffuse sense of social responsibility, characterizes the process affecting the status of children. the family in the civilization of illiteracy embodies expectations pertinent to progressively mediated practical experiences: from childbirth-an almost industrial experience-to education; from entering the family agreement, mediated by so many experts-lawyers, priests, tax consultants, psychologists-to maintaining a sense of commonalty among family members; from embodying direct interaction and a sense of immediacy to becoming instances of segmentation, change, and interaction, and instances of competition and outright conflict. the institution of the family must also counteract sequentiality and linearity with a sense of relativity that allows for more choices, which the new human scale makes possible. this new pragmatic framework also allows for higher expectations. like any other institution, the institution of marriage (and the bureaucracy it has generated) has its own inertia and drive to survive, even when the conditions of its necessity, at least in the forms ascertained in the past, are no longer in place. in short, the breakdown of the family, even if equated with the failure of the individuals constituting it-children included-is related to the new structural foundation of a pragmatic framework for which it is not suited as a universal model, or to which it is only partially acceptable. this does not exclude the continuation of family. rather, it means that alternative forms of cooperation and interaction substituting the family will continue to emerge. just as literacy maintains a presence among many other literacies, the family is present among many forms of reciprocal interdependence, some expanding beyond the man-woman nucleus. to understand the dynamics of this change, a closer look at how the new pragmatic framework of the civilization of illiteracy affects experiences pertinent to family is necessary here. the history of the family, independent of its various embodiments (matriarchal, patriarchal, polygamous, monogamous, restricted or extended, heterosexual or homosexual), is in many respects the history of the appropriation of the individual by society. the offspring of primitive humans belonged to nobody. if they survived to puberty, they continued life on their own, or as members of the group in which they were born, as nameless as their parents. children and parents were amoral and competed for the same resources. the offspring of the humans constituting their own identity, and their own universe parallel to that of nature, belonged more and more to what emerged as the family, and by extension to the community (tribe, village, parish). the child was marked, named, nurtured, and educated, as limited as this education might have been. it was given language and, through the experience of work, a sense of belonging. in all known practical experiences-work, language, religion, market, politics-the succession of generations was specifically acknowledged. rules, some pertaining to the preservation of biological integrity, others to property and social life, were established in order to accommodate relations between generations. over centuries, family ownership of children decreased while that of society increased. this is reflected in the various ways church, school, social institutions, and especially the market claim each new generation. in this process, mediation becomes part of family life: the priest, the teacher, the counselor, the language of advertisement, direct marketing, and much, much more is insinuated between children and their parents. the process intensifies as expectancies of better life for less effort become predominant. responsibilities, procreation included, are distributed from the parents to the practical experiences of genetics. test tube production of babies is an alternative to natural procreation. more to come. as a matter of fact, both procreation and adoption are dominated by strong selective methods and design procedures. genetic traits are identified and matched in the genetic banks of adoptable children. surrogate mothers are selected and contracted based on expectations of behavior and heredity. sperm banks offer selections from high iq or high physical performance bulls. other mediators specify ideal cows, surrogate mothers whose offspring are treated like any other commodity-"satisfaction guaranteed." if the product is somehow unsatisfactory, the dissatisfied parents get rid of it. obviously, the language and literacy expected for the success of the biochemical reaction in the test tube is different from that involved in the constitution of the family. it is also different from the literacy involved in the change from instinctual sexual encounters to love, procreation, and child rearing. in each of the procedures mentioned, new languages-of genetics, for example-introduce levels of mediation that finally affect the efficiency of procreation. as nightmarish as some of these avenues might seem, they are in line with the entire development towards the new pragmatics: segmentation-the task is divided into sub-tasks-networking-to identify the desired components and strategies for synthesis-and task distribution. children are not yet made on the internet, but if the distinction between matter and information suggested by some geneticists is carried through, it would not be impossible to conceive of procreation on networks. a new individuality the process of mediation expands well further. family life becomes the subject of practical experiences involving family planning, health, psychology, socialized expectations of education, the right to die. the private family owned their offspring and educated it to the level of its own education, or to the level it deemed advantageous, consistent with the progress of literacy. to the extent that this family was involved in other experiences, such as religion, sport, art, or the military, children grew up partaking in them. once one aspect of the relation between environment, home, family, and work changes-for example, living in the city reshapes the nature of the dependence on the environment, the house is one of several possible, family members work at different jobs-the family is made more and more part of a bigger family: society. in turn, this belonging dissolves into solitary individualism. nothing any longer buffers the child from the competitive pressure that keeps the economic engine running. industrial society required centers of population while it still relied on relatively nuclear families that embodied its own hierarchy. the human scale reflected in industrial society required the socialization of family in order to generate an adequate workforce, as well as the corresponding consumption. with networking, children as much as adults are on their own, in a world of interactions that breaks loose from any conceivable constraints. there is no need to fantasize here, rather to acknowledge a new structural situation of consequences beyond our wildest imagination. literacy unified through its prescriptions and expectations. it facilitated the balance between the preserved naturalness and the socialized aspect of family. it projected a sense of permanency and shielded the family from the universe of machines threatening to take over limited functions of the body: the mechanical arm, the treadmill. as a human medium for practical experiences involving writing and reading, literacy seemed to represent a means of resistance against the inanimate. it helped preserve human integrity and coherence in a world progressively losing its humanity due to all the factors that the need for increased efficiency put in place (machines, foremost). it eventually became obvious that procreation had to be kept within limits, that there is a social cost to each child and to each mother giving birth. moreover, family structural relations needed to be reconsidered for the expected levels of efficiency to be maintained and increased, as expectations took over desires. the new pragmatic framework is established as this borderline between the possible and the necessary. the civilization of illiteracy is its expression. at the family level, the civilization of illiteracy corresponds to increased segmentation, affecting the very core of family life, and mediation. the family can no longer be viewed as a whole by the many mediating entities constituting the market. the market is with us from birth to death. it deals in every aspect of life, and extends the pressure of competition in each moment of our existence. the market segments medical care. it is most likely that each family member sees a different doctor, depending on age, sex, and condition. it segments education, religion, and culture. it is not uncommon that family members constitute their identity in different religious experiences, and some of them in none, as it is not uncommon that their educational needs run the gamut from a modicum of instruction to never-ending study. they live together, or find togetherness on the network matrix-one running a business on some remote continent, the other pursuing solitary goals, and some adapting to foreign cultures (less than to foreign languages). the market has broken society into segments and the family into parts on which it concentrates its message of consumption. there is not one market entity that views the family as a whole. children are targeted on the basis of their economic, cultural, and racial background for everything from food to clothing to toys and recreation. and so are their respective natural or adoptive parents, grandparents, and relatives. we can all decry this as manipulation, but in fact it corresponds to the objective need to increase commercial efficiency through narrow marketing. accordingly, a new moral condition emerges, focused on the individual, not on the family. part of the broader pragmatic framework, this process stimulates the relative illiteracy of the partners constituting the family. this illiteracy is reflected in varied patterns of sexual behavior, in new birth control strategies, in a different reciprocal relation between men and women, or between individuals of the same sex, and in as-yet undefinable codes of family behavior. the condition of the child in the civilization of illiteracy corresponds to the same dynamics. children are less and less cared for at home, often entrusted to specialized caretakers, and finally started on their way through the vast machine called the education system. discontinuity it makes no sense to decry the hypocrisy of double (or multiple) standards and the loss of a morality associated with the misery of people obliged to remain together by forces they consider legitimate (religion foremost). in the dynamics of the civilization of illiteracy, forces kept under the control of rules and norms established in the practical experience of literacy are unleashed. it would be difficult to speak about progress where one sees the demise of family, the erosion of private life, the increased number of one- parent households, of early and very early maternity, of incest, rape and increased child abuse, of obsession with contraceptives or ignorance of their use, and the threat of sexually transmitted diseases and drugs. still, before hurrying value judgments, one would be better advised to consider the entire picture and to assess what makes all these occurrences possible, indeed, what makes them necessary. it might well be true that what we perceive as the sources of morality and happiness-the family, children, love, religion, work, and the satisfaction associated with all of these-are exhausted. it might well be that fresh sources must be sought, or invented, or at least not eliminated because they do not fit the mold of previous choices. even the thought that morality and happiness are altogether unnecessary deserves to be considered. they are loaded with the expectation of permanency and universality rendered impossible in the new pragmatic framework of permissiveness, local values, instant gratification, change, and interconnectedness. the nuclear family of the civilization of literacy has been absorbed in the illiterate dynamics of societal functioning. it is coming out of the experience restructured. on the other hand, socially acceptable patterns of development are encouraged through the public education system, where the chief objective is the socialization of children, not the dissemination of knowledge. ethnic characteristics are progressively, although timidly, acknowledged. the seemingly losing battle against drugs leads many parents and social researchers to wonder whether legalization would be more efficient than spending immense amounts of money and energy to fight the underground market. in this world of mediation, science and technology make genetic engineering possible in the form of influencing the profile of the offspring, ways to avoid what does not fit the fashionable, ways to induce early in development (almost at the embryonic stage) preferences and cognitive characteristics. together with everything pertaining to the human being self-constituted in the framework of the civilization of illiteracy, the family goes public in the stock market of the many enterprises involved in the self-perpetuation and the well being of the species. its value is no longer a matter of those constituting it, of its goals and means, but of the return on the investment society makes in it. as a competitive unit within the pragmatic framework associated with literacy, the family freed itself from the constraints implicit in literacy that affect its efficiency. it became a contract, one among the growing number, in whose expression literacy gives way to the alternative litigation language of the law, in respect to which, with the exception of lawyers, everyone else is illiterate. favorable taxation supports children-euphemistically called deductions when they are really additions-but not beyond what is socially expected of them, at least in the usa: to become agents of consumption and increased efficiency as soon as possible. in this sense, the tensions between generations are simply refocused-society is willing to make available social help in the form of transitory family substitutes. the problem is not addressed, only its symptoms. the languages of counseling and psychiatry at work here are another instance of specialized literacy. they substitute for family communication while projecting limited and limiting psychological explanations upon all those involved. in an age that expects efficiency to lead to satisfaction, if not happiness, the family relies on specialists when problems arise: psychiatrists, counselors, specialized schools. sometimes the specialists are imposed when society perceives a need to intervene, especially in cases of suspected child abuse. it is reflective of the pragmatics of our time that the elderly receive attention in the market of mediations and specializations on a less obvious level. they are considered only to the extent that they are viable consumers. once upon a time, and still in isolated cases, such as the amish and mennonites in the usa, age was to be honored for its own sake, a value kept alive through literacy. while many elderly enjoy the benefits of better healthcare and economic sufficiency, they effectively divorce themselves from the family in enjoying what the market offers them. their participation in the family is a matter of choice more than necessity. the success of the internet among the elderly, in need of communication and support groups, is a very telling phenomenon. networks of reciprocal support, as nuclei of self-organization, emerge independent of any form of social intervention. their viability is based on this dynamics. the struggle between the value of life in the civilization of literacy and that of illiteracy can be seen in hospitals and nursing homes where the aged are treated on machine-based analogies, abandoned or entrusted to specialists in the care of the dying. while aging and death cannot be eliminated, the market provides ways to avoid them as long as we can afford to. it used to be that the new generation continued the family work-farming, carpentry, pottery, law, business, banking, publishing. this happened in a context of continuity and relative permanence: the work or business remained relatively unchanged. literacy was appropriate for the transfer of know-how, as it was for the maintenance of family-based values and successive assumption of responsibilities regarding the family, moreover the community. these pragmatic elements no longer exist the way they did. today, even within the same generation, the nature of business evolves, and so does the nature of the values around which family is established. in addition, ownership changes as well; businesses are more and more integrated in the market; they become public entities; their shares are traded with no regard to the object those shares represent. the consequence is what we perceive as lack of family continuity and bonding. the new nature of the family contract is such that its basis of affection is eroded. sequentiality of work is replaced by cycles of parallel activity during which generations compete as adversaries. this is why the family contract is shifted more and more to the market, depersonalized, indexed like one among many commodities. this contract is no longer literacy-bound, but rooted in circumstances of distributed activities of intense competition and networking. once demythified, family relations are reassessed; continuity is severed. the market acknowledges the segmentation of family-no longer an economic entity in its own right-and in turn accentuates it. the baby business, the infant market, teenagers, and so on to the senior market are well focused on their respective segments as these embody not just age groups, but foremostly expectations and desires that can be met at the level of each individual. how advanced the past; how primitive the future no matter how intense the desire to maintain a neutral discourse and to report facts without attaching teleological conclusions to them, it turns out that the language of family, probably more than the language of science, machines, or even art, religion, sports, and nourishment, involves our very existence. where should somebody place himself in order to maintain some degree of objectivity? probably at the level of the structural analysis. here, everything affecting the status of family and the condition of morality appears as a network of changing interrelations among people involved in the practical experiences of defining what a human being is. it seems, at times, that we relive experiences of the primitive past: the child knew only his or her mother; women started giving birth at an early age (almost right after menarche); children were on their own as soon as they could minimally take care of themselves. but we also build an ideal image of the family based on recollections of the less distant past: permanent marriages ("until death"), respect for parents, mother cooking meals for which the whole family sits down, father bringing wood for the family hearth, children learning by participating, assuming responsibilities as their maturity permitted. this idealized image is also the bearer of prejudices: women's subservient role, the authoritarian model passed from one generation to another, frustration, unfulfilled talents. so the paradox we experience is that of a primitive future: more animality (or, if you want a milder term, naturalness) in comparison to a civilized (or at least idealized) past. there is no cause for worry, especially in view of the realization that despite our success in labeling the world (for scientific and non-scientific purposes), the majority of human behavior is determined (as already pointed out) independent of labels. taking into account that the notion of permanency is related to relatively stable frames of reference makes it easier to explain why the high mobility of our age results in changes, both physical and psychological, that undermine previous expectations. losing the discipline of the natural cycle that affected human work for centuries, human beings freed themselves from a condition of subservience, while at the same time generating new constraints reflected in the nature of their reciprocal relations. what does it mean to become used to something-environment, family, acquaintances-when this something is changing fast, and with it, we ourselves? the industrial revolution brought about the experience of labor-saving machinery, but also of many new dependencies. in henri steele commanger's words, "every time-saving machine required another to fill the time that had been saved." one might not agree with this description. but it would be hard to contradict its spirit by taking only a cursory look at all the contraptions of illiteracy filling the inventory of the modern household: radio, photo camera, tv set, video recorder, video cassette player, walkmant, cd player, electronic and digital games, laser disc player, cd-rom, telephone, computer, modem. the one-directional communication supported by some of these machines affected patterns of interaction and resulted in audiences, but not necessarily in families, at least not in the sense acknowledged in practical experiences of family life. with the two-directional communication, supported by digital networks, human interaction takes on a new dimension. choices increase. so do risks. once the substance of one's experience is substituted by mediations, even the rationale for communication changes, never mind the form. families separated by virtue of assignments (war, business) at remote locations, or in pursuit of various interests (sport, entertainment, tourism), exchange videotapes instead of writing to each other, or focus on telephone conversations meant to signal a point of reference, but not a shared universe of existence and concerns. they discover e-mail and rationalize messages to a minimum. or they become a web page, available to whoever will surf by. all these changes-probably more can be acknowledged-took place concomitant with changes in our expectations and accepted values. with the increased gamut of choice, attachment to value decreases. when all emotions come from soap operas, and all identity from the latest fashion trend, it becomes difficult to defend notions such as sensitivity and personality. when love is as short as the random encounter, and faith as convincing as reading a person's palm or tarot cards, it is impossible to ascertain a notion of reciprocal responsibility or the moral expectation of faithfulness. on the other hand, when the need to achieve levels of efficiency dictated by a scale of humankind never experienced before and by expectations and desires in continuous expansion is as critical as we make it, something is given up-or, to put it the other way around, somebody has to pay for it. with the sense of globality-of resources, actions, plans- comes the pressure of integration of everybody into the global market, and the expectations of consumption attached to it. many-to-many communication is not just a matter of bandwidth on digital networks, but of self-definition, also. the family used to reflect the perceived infinity of the universe of existence., despite the family's finite and determined internal structure. with the awareness of limited resources, in particular those of the natural support system, comes the realization that alternative practical experiences of life and cooperation become necessary in order to generate new pragmatic frameworks for increased efficiency and enhanced dynamism. the indefinite expansion of what people want and the progressive incorporation of higher numbers of human beings into the market through which affluence, as much as misery, can be achieved, results in the devaluation of life, love, of values such as self-sacrifice, faithfulness, fairness. the moral literate philosophers of the th century-ralph waldo emerson, thomas carlyle, william james-thought that the answer lay in our recognition that the world is not only for enjoyment. one can imagine a tv debate (interrupted by commercials, of course) between them and the romantic proponents of the ideology of progress-john maynard keynes, adam smith, david hume. it's safe to wager that the audience would zap over their literate debate, while they would enjoy the illiterate -second spots. none of the philosophers would establish a web site, as none would be terribly excited about the discussion forums on the internet-not a place for intellectual debate. who would read their elegant prose? to say more at this point would almost preempt the argument: the family in the civilization of illiteracy ascertains new forms of human interaction. it departs from the expectation of conformity for a model that acknowledges many ways to live together and, even more important, how we transcend our own nature in this process. we might, after all, be much more than we know, or trust that we could become. a god for each of us on the memetic algorithms web page on the internet, h. keith henson illustrates the lifelike quality of memes by recounting an episode from his time as a student (university of arizona, ). having to fill out a form on which religious affiliation was to be disclosed, he chose the denomination druid, after having initially tried myob (the acronym for mind your own business). as he stated, "it was far too good a prank to keep it to myself." replication mechanisms, in addition to a healthy dose of social criticism, soon had the university record almost % of the student body as reform druids, orthodox druids, southern druids, members of the church of the nth druid, zen druids, latter-day druids, and probably a number of other variations. once the question regarding religious affiliation was removed from the entry form, the chain of replication and variation was interrupted. there are many aspects of the relation between religion and language embedded in the anecdote. in some of the themes to be discussed in the coming pages, the humorous aspects will resonate probably less than questions on how religious experiences extend from early forms of human awareness to the current day. using, or even inventing, advanced technology, asking the most probing questions, experiencing injustice and pain, being subjected to antireligious indoctrination, or even repression, does not result in the abandonment of religion. ignorance, primitive living conditions, extreme tolerance and liberalism, the possibility to freely choose one's religious affiliation from the many competing for each soul might lead to skepticism, if not to outright rejection of divinity. in other words, conditions that seem to support religious beliefs do not automatically lead to practical experiences of human self-constitution as religious. neither do adverse conditions generate atheists, or at least not the same kinds. there is no simple answer to the question of why some people are religious, some indifferent, and others actively against religion. enlightenment did not result in generalized atheism; the pressure of the church did not generate more believers. scientific and technological progress of the magnitude we experience did not erase the verb to believe from among the many that denote what people do, or no longer do, in our day. to believe, and this applies to religion as it applies to all other forms of belief, is part of the practical experience of human self- constitution. it involves our projection in a world acknowledging distinctions that are pragmatically significant and synchronized with the dynamics of life and work. the world of nature is not one of belief but of situations. we humans perceive the world, i.e., project ourselves as entities, forming images of the surroundings in our mind, through many filters. one of them is our continuously constituted beliefs, in particular, our religious faith. webster's dictionary (probably as good a source as any reference book) defines religion as "belief in a divine superhuman power or powers to be obeyed and worshipped as the creator(s) and ruler(s) of the universe." religion today is far less a coherent and consistent practical experience than it was in previous pragmatic frameworks. the manifold relation between literacy and religion can be meaningfully understood by explaining the pragmatic context of the constitution of religion. its further development into different theologies, and its embodiment in various churches and other institutions connected to religion, also help in this understanding. the centralized and hierarchic structure of religion, the basic notions around which theology evolves, and the dynamics of change in religion and theology that reflect adaptive strategies or goals of changing the world to make it fit a theology, have a strong bearing on the values that formed and transformed literacy. truly, language and religion, especially language after the experience of writing, developed practically in tandem. the transition from ritual to myth to incipient religion is simultaneously a transition from primitive expression, still tightly connected to body movement, image, and sound, to a more self- organized system of expression becoming communication. during the process, presented here in compressed form, writing appears as a result of interactions between the experiences of language and religion. that writing is a premise for pragmatic requirements that will eventually lead to literacy has already been generously explained. it has also been pointed out that with writing emerges the perspective of literacy into whose reality many more practical experiences will eventually crystallize. literacy and religion are intertwined in ways different from those characteristic of other human practical experiences. in the historic overview to be provided, these peculiarities will be pointed out. expression, as a practical experience of human self-constitution, interrupts the slow cycle of genetic replication, and inaugurates the much shorter cycles of memetic transmission-along the horizontal axis of those living together, and along the vertical axis in the quickly succeeding sequence of generations. the role of scale of human experience, the relation between religious, ethical, aesthetic, political, and other aspects, the relation between individual and community, and between right and wrong will also be addressed in their context. in addition, logical, historic, and systemic arguments will be employed to clarify what religions have in common. in anticipation of a short history, it should be clarified that living in a religion of one god (such as judaism, christianity, islam), or of many (as the hindu world entertains), or of a mixture of pantheism and mysticism (as in the chinese or japanese worlds), even living in animism, does not imply identification with its history, nor even with its national or ethnic confines or premises. islamic enthusiasm and christian retreat in our day is not a matter of the validity of one religion over the other, but rather a matter of their pragmatic significance. united in accepting allah as their god, or a broadly defined way of living according to the koran, moslims are far less united than the less religious, and less homogeneous, christians. but in giving up the clear-cut distinctions between right and wrong, and especially involving relativity in the search for options leading to higher efficiency, we constitute ourselves in a framework of vagueness and relativity-different from the transcendental value of hinduism, or from the clear-cut values of contemporary islam-which can no longer rely on the certainty embodied in literacy-based praxis, and which leads us to subject human existence to doubt. in realizing the broad consequences of a pragmatics based on the desire to achieve levels of efficiency appropriate to a given scale of human experience, we can understand why some conflicts involving forces identifying themselves with religions from the past against forces of the present appear as religious conflicts. the most vivid examples can be found in bosnia-herzegovina and in the southern republics of the defunct soviet union. through a religious past to which they have lost any meaningful connection, orthodox serbs, catholic croats, and muslim bosnians try to reconnect to the world of experiences to which they traditionally belong. in the central asian conflicts, allegiances are confused-sunni from tadjikistan align themselves with the shiites of iran, while the uzbeks pursue the hope of a new pan-turkish empire. in a different vein, the sanctity of life celebrated in taoism, as well as in judaism and christianity, ends at the doors of the shiny palace of cheap, replaceable values of planned obsolescence, eventually of the human being itself. in hope of redemption, many give their lives, probably not understanding that they close the cycle of potential practical experiences just as drug addicts, suicidals, and murderers do, obviously in different contexts and with different motivations. this might sound too strong, but it is no more extreme than the extremes of existence and faith, or lack thereof. friends and foes of religion will agree that, for better or worse, it has played an important role in the history of humankind. the complement to this agreement is less clear: we cannot define what replaced, or could replace, religion. the new world order brought about by the downfall of communism in the soviet union and east europe raises even more questions regarding religion: are the extremist-not to say fanatical- forms of religion that replace official atheism religion or disguised forms of ethnic or cultural identification? to which extent do they reflect pragmatic reintegration in the global economy or safe isolationism? practical experiences of religious nature were all affected by a change in their details: different ways of preserving religious doctrine, a different attitude towards authority, a change from self-denial to indulgence, but not in the fundamental acceptance of divinity. characteristics of religions are still in flux. for instance, religious events embedded in various cultures take on a merely ceremonial role in today's world, aligning themselves with the newest in music, imagery, interactive multimedia, and networks. believers as well as casual spectators have access to religious ceremonies through websites. probably even more telling is the appropriation of social, political, and moral causes, as religion ascertains itself in our time as open, tolerant, and progressive, or conversely as the guardian of permanent values, justifying its active role outside its traditional territory. this ascertainment is dictated by the pragmatic framework of the dynamic reality in which religion operates, and not by the memetic replication of its name. this is, of course, the reason for not limiting our discussion to variation and replication, no matter how exciting this might appear. but who made god? the variety of religions corresponds to the variety of pragmatic circumstances of human identification. regardless of such differences, each time children, or adults, are taught that god made the world, the oceans, the sun, stars, and moon, and all living creatures, they ask: but who made god? trying to answer such a question might sound offensive to some, impossible to others, or a waste of time. still, it is a good entry point to the broader issue of religion's roots in the pragmatic framework. the commonalties among the majority of religions, to which comparative studies (especially those of mircea eliade) point, are significant at the structural level. we have, on the one hand, all the limitations of the individual human-one among many, mortal, subject to illness and defeat, object of passion and seduction, deceitful, limited in understanding of the various forces affecting one's projection as part of nature, and as part of the human species. on the other hand, there is the uniqueness of the immortal, untouchable, impervious, omniscient, entity (or entities) able to understand and unleash forces far more powerful than those of nature or of men, an entity (or entities) upon which depends the destiny of all that exists. through belief, all the limitations of the human being are erased. it is quite instructive, as well as impressive, how every limitation of the human being, objective and subjective, is counteracted and given a life of its own in the language housing the progression from man to gods or to god, on one side, and to the practice of religion, on the other. the various gods constituted in the world's religious texts also recount what people do in their respective environment, natural or tamed to some degree. they tell about what can go wrong in their life and work, and what community rules are most appropriate to the pragmatic context. the value of rain in the middle east, the fine- tuning of work to seasonal changes in the far east, the significance of hope and submission in the indian subcontinent, the increased role of animal domestication, the extension of farmland, the role of navigation in other parts of the world are precisely encoded in the various religions and in their books. these books are bodies of explanations, expectations, and norms pertinent to practical experiences, written in very expressive language, ambiguous enough to accommodate a variety of similar situations, but precise in their identification of who is part of the shared religious experience, and who is outside, as foreign and undesirable, or foreign and subject to enticement. the plurality of religious experiences what makes religion necessary is a subject on which it would be foolish to expect any degree of consensus. what makes it possible, at least in the forms experienced and documented from ancient times to the modern, is language, and soon after language, writing-although japanese shintoism, like judaism, began before writing-and reading, or more to the point, the book. for the judeo-christian religions, as well as for islam, the book is the sufficient condition for their development and persistence. when the book grew into books, it actually became the center of religious praxis. this is reflected in the nature of religious rituals, an extension of mytho-magical experiences previous to writing. they were all meant to disseminate the book, and make its rules and prescriptions part of the life of the members of the respective community. the timeline of the practical experience of religious human self-constitution suggests significant commonalties among the various religions. the way the notion of god was constituted is only one of these commonalties. what separates religion from pre-religious expression (such as animism) is the medium in which each is articulated. the subject is relatively constant. acknowledgment of forces beyond individual understanding and desire to overcome confusion or fear in facing difficult and inexplicable aspects of life and death go hand in hand. a perceived need to pursue avenues of survival which promise to be successful because of the implied expectation that forces residing in the unknown would be, if not directly supportive, at least not actively opposed, is also discernible. but when rationalizing the coming of age of religion, one automatically faces the broader issue of the source of religion. is it given to humans by some perceived superior force? does it result from our involvement with the environment of our existence and from the limits of our experience? when praxis began to differentiate, mytho-magical experiences proved unadaptable to the resulting pragmatic framework. farming and animal husbandry replaced scavenging, hunting, and foraging. communities started to compete for resources (manpower included). efficiency of human work increased, resulting in more forms of exchange and leading to accumulation of property. relations among people within communities became complex to the extent that arguments, attributed to forces outside direct practical experiences, were necessary to instill and maintain order. the process was multi- faceted, and still involved myths, the magical, and rituals. all three-still retraceable in some parts of the world-were carried over to religion, progressively forming a coherent system of explanations and prescriptions meant to optimize human activity. the sequence is known: practical experiences conveyed by example from one individual to another, or orally from one to several. where the unknown forces were ritually conjured in new forms of human practical self-constitution, these practical experiences were progressively unified and encoded in forms apt to further support the new scale achieved in the insular communities around the world. abraham, accepted almost equally by jews, christians, and moslems, lived at around , bce and proclaimed the existence of one supreme god; moses in the th century bce; the six sacred texts of the hindus were compiled between the th and th centuries bce; taoism-the chinese religion and philosophy of the path-came to expression around bce, and confucius's teachings on virtue, human perfectibility, obedience to providence, and the role of the sage ruler shortly afterwards; buddhism followed within decades, affirming the four noble truths, which teach how to exist in a world of suffering and find the path to inner peace leading to nirvana. this listing is meant to highlight the context in which the practical experience of religious self-constitution was expressed in response to circumstances of life and work that necessitated a coherent framework for human interaction. the torah, containing the five books of moses dedicated to the basic laws of judaism, was written around , bce. it was followed by the other books (prophets and writings) and form the old testament. the greeks, referring to all seven books (the septuagint), called the entire work ta biblia (books). this collection of books is dedicated to the theme of creation, failure, judgment, exodus, exile, and restoration, and introduced prescriptions for conduct, diet, justice, and religious rites. the themes were presented against the broad background in which laws pertinent to work, property, morals, learning, relations between the sexes, individuals, tribes, and other practical knowledge (e.g., symptoms of diseases, avoidance of contamination) were introduced in normative form, though in poetic language. the pragmatic framework explains the physics of the prescriptions: what to do or not do in order to become useful in the given context, or at least not to be harmful. it also explains the metaphysics: why prescriptions should be followed, short of stating that failure to do so affects the functioning of the entire community. what was kept in writing from the broader oral elaborations that constituted the covenant (testament) for practical experience was the result of pragmatic considerations. writing was done in consonantal hebrew, a writing system then still at its beginning, on parchment scrolls, and thus subject to the limitations of the medium: how much text could be written on such scrolls in a size that facilitated reading and portability. between these books and what much later (translations notwithstanding) came from the printing presses following gutenberg's invention, there is a difference not only in size, but also in sequence and in substance. over time, texts were subject to repeated transcriptions, translations, annotation, revision, and commentary. the book that appeared to be given once and for all kept changing, and became subject to interpretations and scrutiny ever so often. still, there is a fundamental element of the continuity of its expressed doctrine: life and work, in order to be successful, must follow the prescribed patterns. hence the implicit expectation: read the book, immerse yourself in its spirit, renew the experience through religious services meant to extol the word. but since alternate explanatory systems were progressively developed-science not the last-parallel to relative fixed pragmatic frames sanctioned in early religion, a certain separation of religion from practical experience took place. religion consecutively constituted its own domain of human praxis, with its own division of labor, and its own frame of reference. christianity, islam, the protestant reformation, and various sectarian movements in china, japan, the indian subcontinent (neo- confucianism, zen, the sikh religious movement) are such developments. we have heard about such expatiations and hear as well about conflicts triggered around them, but fail to put these conflicts in the perspective that explains them. within a given context, a new growth triggers reactions. members of the baha'i religion (a faith that began in the th century) are subjected to the repression of muslims because its program is one of unity of religions, not subordination of some to others. the expectation of universal education, or active promotion of equality between sexes, corresponds to a pragmatics different from that from which islam emerged, and for that matter, many other religions. the religious society of friends, i.e., the quaker movement, was a reaction to the corruption of the church as an institution. it spells out a program in line with the requirements of the time: reaching consensus in meetings, doing away with sermons, pursuing a program of education and non-violence. it was also subjected to repression, as each schism was, by the powers that were in place. these and many other developments mark the long, as yet unfinished, process of transition from religion to theology and church, and even to business, as well as the process of permutation of religion into culture, in particular from religion to secular culture and market. the book became not only many different books, but also varied experiences embodied in organized religion. alternative perspectives were submitted as different ways to practice religion within a pragmatic context acknowledged by religion. and the word became religion in the circular structure of survival in nature, there was no room for metaphysical self-constitution, i.e., no practical need to wonder about what was beyond the immediate and proximate, never mind life and death. when the practical experience of self-constitution made rudiments of language (the language of gestures, objects, sounds) possible, a sense of time-as sequences of durations-developed, and thus a new dimension, in addition to the immediate, opened. this opening grew as awareness of oneself in relation to others increased in a context of diversified practical experiences. acknowledging others, not just as prey, or as object of sexual drive, but as associates (in hunting, foraging, mating, securing shelter), and even the very act of association, resulted in awareness of the power of coordination. thus the awareness, as diffuse as it still was, of time got reinforced. be-hu tung ventured a description of the process: "in the beginning there was no moral or social order. people knew only their mothers, not their fathers. hungry, they searched for their food. once full, they threw the rest away. they ate their food with skin and hair on it, drank blood and covered themselves in fur and reeds." he described a world in its animal phase, still dependent on the cycles of nature, perceiving and celebrating repetition. myth and ritual responded to natural rhythms and incorporated these in the life cycle. once human self-constitution extended beyond nature, creating its own realm, observance of natural rhythms took new forms. this new forms were more able to support levels of efficiency appropriate to the new condition achieved in the experience of farming. it was no longer the case that survival equaled finding and appropriating means of subsistence in nature. rather, natural cycles were introduced as a matrix of work, modulating the entire existence. once the experience of religion was identified as such, religious praxis adopted the same matrix. in almost all known religions, natural cycles, as they pertain to reproduction, work, celebrations, education, are detailed. cooperation and coordination progressively increased. a mechanism of synchronization beyond the one that only accommodated natural cycles became necessary. in retrospect, we understand how rules of interaction established in the nature-dominated pragmatic framework turned into the commandments of what would be asserted through written religion. we also understand how animistic pre-religious practice-embodied in the use of masks and charms, in worship of the untouched natural object (tree, rock, spring, animal), and the employment of objects meant to keep harm away (tooth, bone, plant) took new forms in what can be defined as the semiotic strategy of attaching the religious word (more broadly, the book) to the life of each member of the religious community. the need to establish the community, and to identify it through action, was so pressing that ceremonies were put in place to bring people together for at least a few times during the year. in egyptian hieroglyphics, one can distinguish an affection for coordination of effort, expressed in the depiction of rowers on boats, builders of pyramids, warriors. the written word of the hebrews was inspired by the experience of hieroglyphics, taking the notion of coordination to a more abstract level. this level provided a framework for synchronizing activity that brought ritual closer to religion. this added a new dimension to ceremonies based on natural cycles, gradually severing the link to the practical experience of interaction with nature. notation evolving into the written word was still the domain of the very few. accordingly, religious reminders were strongly visual, as well as aural, a state of affairs that continued in the religions that sprouted from judaism and established themselves after the fall of the roman empire. the populations adhering to these religions were largely illiterate, but derived important characteristics from religions based on the written word-the word that was equated with god. nailed to the doorways or inscribed over portals, converted into many types of charms, the words of a religious creed became elements of the synchronizing mechanism that religion embodied in the pragmatic framework of its constitution. prayer punctuated the daily routine, as it continues to do in our day. the seasons and the cycles of nature, embodied in the mytho-magical, were reinterpreted in religious celebrations, which referenced the natural cycle, and appropriated pre-religious rituals. cycles of activity aimed at maintaining and increasing the outcome of work for survival were thus confirmed. a community's well-being was expressed by its ability to satisfy the needs of its members and achieve a pattern of growth. still heavily dependent upon natural elements (rain, floods, wind, insects, etc.), as well as subjected to attacks from neighbors, communities developed strategies for better use of resources (human included), storage, and defense mechanisms. these strategies were carefully encoded in the respective religious covenants. the religions that have survived and developed seem to gravitate around a core of very practical writings and associated visual reminders of the power they invoke in connection to the pragmatic identity of the community. the book was the standard; those who constituted the organization of religion-the priesthood-could usually read the book. scribes, even some of the priests, could write and add to the book. the majority listened and memorized, resorting to better memory than we exercise today, memory that their practical experience required. they subscribed to religious patterns, or carried out rituals on a personal or communal level. it is helpful to keep in mind that religious involvement was facilitated by the fact that religion is not only pragmatically founded, but also pragmatically ascertained and tested. rules for farming, hunting, preparing food; rules for hygiene and family relations; rules for conducting war and dealing with prisoners and slaves were expressed against the background of an accepted supreme reference, before evolving into future ethical rules and legal systems. those rules which were not confirmed, progressively lost authority, were "erased" from the people's memory, and ceased to affect the rhythm of their lives. the written word survived the oral, as well as the living who uttered it or wrote it down. this word, abstracted from voice, gesture, and movement, and abstracted from the individual, was progressively assigned a more privileged place in the hierarchy. the writings seemed to have a life of their own, independent of the scribes, who were believed to be only copiers of everlasting messages entrusted to them. written words express the longing for a unified framework of existence, thought and action. within such a framework, observance of a limited number of rules and procedures could guarantee a level of efficiency appropriate to the scale at which human activity took place. this is a world of human practical experiences transcending natural danger and fear. it is a universe of existence in which a species is committed to its further self-definition in defiance of nature while still dependent upon it. religion as a human experience appears in this world as a powerful tool for the optimization of the effort involved, because it effectively constitutes a synchronizing mechanism. in the practical experience of religious writing and the associated experience of reading or listening to a text, the word becomes an instrument of abstraction. accordingly, it is assigned a privileged position in the hierarchy of the many sign systems in use. memetic replication appropriately describes the evolution of religious ideas, but not necessarily how these ideas are shaped by the pragmatic framework. tablets, scrolls, and books are blueprints for effective self-constitution within a community of people sharing an understanding of rules for efficient experiences. the outcome is guaranteed by the implicit contract of those self-constituted as believers in the supernatural from which the rules supposedly emanate. in search of authority, this world settled for unifying motivations. the rules of animal, and sometimes even human, sacrifice, and those of religious offerings were based on the pragmatics of maintaining optimal productivity (of herds, trees, soil), of entering agreements, maintaining property, redistributing wealth, and endowing offspring. the immediate meaning of some of the commitments made became obscured over time as scale changed and the association to nature weakened. the rules were subsequently associated with metaphysical requirements, or simply appropriated by culture in the form of tradition. to ensure that each individual partook in the well-being of the community, punishments were established for those violating a religious rule. immediate punishment and, later, eternal punishment, although not in all religions, went hand in hand as deterrents. the involvement of language, in particular of writing and reading, is significant. as already stated, the individual who could decipher the signs of religious texts was set apart. thus reading took on a mystical dimension. the division between the very few who wrote and read and the vast majority involved in the religious experience diminished over a very long time. more than other practical experiences, religion introduced the unifying power of the written word in a world of diversity and arbitrariness. under the influence of greek philosophy, the word was endowed with godlike qualities, implicitly becoming a god. seen from a given religious perspective, the rest of the world fails because it does not accept the word, i.e., the religion. the irreligious part of the world could be improved by imposing the implicit pragmatics that the religion carried; it could submit to the new order and cease to be a threat. at this time, religion entered the realm of the abstract, divorced from the experience with nature characteristic of religions originating in the oral phase of human self-constitution. it is at this time that religion became dogma. all over the globe, in the worlds of hinduism, taoism, confucianism, judaism, christianity, and later islam, the conflict between communities embracing a certain creed and others, in pre-religious phases or dedicated to a different religion, is one of opposing pragmatics in the context of increased differentiation. in other words, a different religious belief is a threat to the successful practical self-constitution of one group. to get rid of the threat is a pragmatic requirement, for which many wars were fought. some are still going on. with each religion that failed, a pragmatic requirement failed, and was replaced by others more appropriate to the context of human self- constitution. that these conflicts appeared under the aegis of conflicting deities, represented by leaders regarded as representatives of divinity, only goes to show how close the relation is between the underlying structure of human activity and its various embodiments. in a world of unavoidable and even necessary diversity, religion maintained islands of unity. when interaction increased among the various groups, for reasons essentially connected to levels of efficiency required for current and future practical experiences, patterns of common activity resulted in patterns of behavior, increased commonalty of language, accepted (or rejected) values, and territorial and social organization. the commonalty of language, as well as the commonalty of what would become, during the middle ages, national identity (language and religion being two of the identifiers), increased steadily. from among the major changes that religion underwent, the most significant are probably its reification in the institution of the church and the constitution of vast bodies of discourse regarding its intrinsic logic, known as theology. once asserted as an institution, religion became the locus of specific human interaction that resulted in patterns based on the language (latin, for some in the western christian world, and arabic in the islamic east) in which religion was expressed. religious practical experience progressively distanced itself from the complexities of work and socio- political organization, and constituted a form of praxis independent of others, although never entirely disconnected from them. the organization of religion concerns the pattern of religious services at certain locations: temple, church, mosque. it concerns the institution, one among many: the military, the nobility, guilds, banks, sometimes competing with them. it also concerns education, within its own structure or in coordination, sometimes in conflict, with other interests at work. a multitude of structural environments, adapted to the practical aspects of religious experience appear, while religion progressively extricated itself, or was eliminated, from the pragmatics of survival and existence. the institution it became dedicated itself to pursuing its own repetitive assignments. at the same time, it established and promoted its implicit set of motivations and criteria for evaluation. in many instances, the church constituted viable social entities in which work, and agriculture in particular, was performed according to prescriptions combining it with the practice of faith. rules of feudal warfare were established, the day of rest was observed, education of clergy and nobility were provided. from the middle ages to the never abandoned missionary activity in africa, asia, and north and south america, the church impacted community life through actions that sometimes flew in the face of common sense. the effort was to impose new pragmatics, and new social and political realities, or at least to resist those in place. whether in agreement or in opposition, the pattern of religious experience was one of repeated self-constitution of its own entity in new contexts, and of pursuing experiences of faith, even if the activity as such was not religious. in this process, the church gained the awareness of the role of scale, and maintained, though sometimes artificially, entities, such as monasteries, where scale was controllable. autarchy proved decreasingly possible as the church tried to extend its involvement. the growing pragmatic context had to be acknowledged: increased exchange of goods, reciprocal dependencies in regard to resources, the continuous expansion of the world-a consequence of the major discoveries resulting from long-distance travel. in recent years the challenge has come from communication-in particular the new visual media-requiring strategies of national, cultural, social, and even political integration. from the scrolls of the torah and from the sacred texts of the rig veda and taoism, to the books of christianity, to the koran, to the illuminated manuscripts copied in monasteries, and to the bible and treatises printed on the presses of fust and schöffer (gutenberg's usurpers) in mainz, cologne, basel, paris, zurich, seville, and naples-over , years can be seen as part of the broader history of the beginning of literacy. this history is a witness to the process, one of many variations, but also one of dedication to the permanency of faith and the word through which it is reified. replications of all kinds mark the memetic sequence, and so religion appears in retrospect as propagation of a special kind of information, generated in the human mind as it started labeling what we know, as well as what is beyond our direct understanding. what did not change, although it was rendered relative, is the acknowledgment and acceptance of a supreme authority, known as god, or described through other names such as allah and myo-ho-ren-ge, and the nature of the practical experience of self- constitution as believer. if abraham, moses, jesus, mohammed, confucius, and the japanese and indian religious leaders were alive today, they would probably realize that if religion had any chance, it could no longer be founded on the written text of the book or books, but in the practical experiences of the civilization of illiteracy. by no accident, the first category on one of the web sites dedicated to religion is entitled finding god in cyberspace. the educated faithful-a contradiction in terms? the pragmatic requirement of optimally transmitting experience essential to a group's permanency was recognized as one of the main functions of language. it should come as no surprise that education was carried out, if not exclusively then at least to a high degree, in religion. neither should it surprise that religion appropriated literacy as one of its programs once the scale of human activity that made literacy necessary was reached. in the context of nation-states that adopted religion as one of their identifiers, the entire history of the relation between society and religion can be seen in a different light. as we know from history, the quest for power frequently brought state and religion into conflict, although one needed and relied on the other. in the unifying pragmatic framework of industrial society, their alliance was sealed in literacy programs. these were simultaneously programs for higher efficiency and for the maintenance of values rooted in religious belief, as long as these did not adversely affect the outcome of work or of market transactions. parallel to the initially dominant religious view of life, change, origins, and future, alternative views were expressed as the result of self-observation and observation of the outside world. philosophy, influenced by religion and by religious explanations of the world, of men, of society and its change, is one example. sciences would diverge from philosophy, multiplying alternate models and explanatory contexts. these were usually carefully construed so as not to collide with the religious viewpoint, unless they bluntly rejected it, regardless of the consequences of such an attitude. there were also heresies based on an individual's notions, or holdovers from past religions. during the renaissance, for instance, such holdovers derived from studies of the bible, which led to the reformation. ideas not rejected as heresy were usually within the scope of the church. these ideas were expressed by men and women who founded orders. they were put into practice by religious activists or made into new theologies. there is no religion that does not go through its internal revisions and through the pain of dividing schisms. on today's list of religious denominations, one can find everything, from paganism to cyberfaith. the rational explanation for this multiplication into infinity is not different from the explanation of any human experience. multiplication of choices, as innate human characteristic, applies to religious experiences as it does to any other form of pragmatic human self-constitution. the practical experience of science, diverging more and more from philosophy and from religious dogma, also followed many paths of diversification. so did the unfolding of art, ethics, technology, and politics. the unifying framework offered by the written word, as interpreted by the monolithic church, was progressively subjected to distinctions that the experience of literacy made possible. when people were finally able to read the bible for themselves-a book that the catholic church did not allow them to read even after the reformation-protest started, but it started after the renaissance, when political entities were strong enough to defy the papacy with some degree of success. the illiterate warriors of centuries ago and the sometimes illiterate, at least unlettered, worshipper and military insurgent of today belong to very different pragmatic frameworks. the former did not have to be able to read or write in order to fight for a cause superficially (if at all) related to the book. one had only to show allegiance to the institution guarding souls from hell. in the scale characteristic of these events, individual performance was of extreme importance to the community, as we know from the stories of king frederick, joan of arc, jan hu?s-or, to change the reference, from the story of guru nanak (the first guru of the sikhs, a religion prompted by the muslims' persecution of hindus at about the time columbus was on his last expedition to the new world), martin luther, george fox (founder of the quaker movement), and many others. the educated faithful of the past probably obtained access to the established values of culture and to the main paradigms of science as these confirmed the doctrine defended by the church. an educated faithful in contemporary society is torn between accepting a body of knowledge ascertaining permanency, while experiencing change at a pace for which no religion can prepare its followers. indeed, from the unity of education and faith-one meant to reinforce the other-the direction of change is towards their contradiction and disparity. the secular web is not only that of the internet infidels, but also of a broad segment of the population that has no need for either. challenging permanency and universality for many, the survival of religion is itself a miracle. for many more, it is indicative of human aspects not sufficiently accounted for in science, art, or social and political life. its role in a new pragmatic framework of fast change, mediated activity, alienation, decentralization, and specialization, is obviously different from that it played in the time of religious constitution and in a reduced scale of humankind. religion did not start out to deceive, but to explain. its practices, while seeming violent, empty, extreme, demagogic, cunning, or even ridiculous at times, fulfill a purpose deemed pragmatic at the inception. the old and familiar are reassuring, if only by resort to endurance. the promise of redemption and paradise gain in attraction the more people face change and uncertainty. while the original purpose of religion was modified over time, the practice is kept up precisely because novelty and progress, especially in their radical form, are difficult to cope with. once old values are questioned in the light of succeeding pragmatic circumstances, under new patterns of self-constitution, the result is complacency and deception, if there is no alternative. religion and literacy ultimately find themselves in the same predicament. religious diversification reflects each new scale at which human practical experience takes place. changes in the pragmatic framework in which people constitute themselves as religious result in tension between the variability of the elements involved in work or new aspects of social life and the claims of the eternal. this tension triggers numerous rethinkings and consequent rewritings of the books, as well as the generation of numerous new books of new forms of faith. christianity and islam are revisions; within them other revisions (schisms) took place, such as the roman and orthodox churches, the sunni and shiite. other sects and religions, schisms, and reformations and protestations (movements claiming to reconstitute the original status, whatever that means), are to a great extent rewritings based on acknowledging new contexts-that is, new pragmatic requirements. once upon a time, the book was supposed to address everyone in the small community in which it came to expression. over time, many books addressed their own constituencies-adherents to certain teachers, to particular saints, or to some subset of the religious doctrine-within a larger community. the success of these sub-groups grew in proportion to the diversification of human praxis and to the function of education exercised on a broader and broader scale. from the religion of small-scale human activity to the churches of universal ambitions, many modifications in the letter and the spirit of the respective books occurred. they ultimately reflect alterations of values that religious institutions had to adapt to and justify. the tribes that accepted the book as a unifying framework- embodiment of tradition which became law-as well as the followers of the prescriptions in the hindu scriptures of veda and upanishad, the followers of the enlightened one (buddha), the practitioners of taoism and confucianism, also acknowledged a sense of community. it is the same sense of community held, at a different scale and with different goals, by the nation-state. the spread of religions, parallel to military conquest, resulted in the spread of the respective religious books, and of the letters that the books were written in. this is not necessarily the same as the spread of literacy. religion established its own state, the holy roman empire (which is now down to the size of vatican city) that transcended national boundaries and languages, and was considered universal. in the language of islam, umma is the world community of moslems, while wattan is the motherland. the moslem armies, defeated at poitiers by the catholic charles martel, were also disseminating the religion, language, and culture of the world community they envisioned. the crusades, in turn, and the religious wars that plagued europe did not spread literacy as much as they attempted to defend or establish the dominance of a way of living meant to ensure an order that promised eternal life. in the scale of today's human practical experience, efficiency in general is almost independent of individual performance. it is independent of the degree of faith, ethical behavior, family status, and other characteristics of what religion calls good, and which ethics appropriates as a desired set of social expectations. within a small scale of existence and work, things belong together: the practical and the spiritual, politics and morals, the good and the useful. religion is their syncretic expression. the need for specialization and mediation changed the nature of pragmatic relations. various realms of human practical experience are severed from each other. as this takes place, the religiously grounded system of values based on unity and integration-after all, this is what monotheism, in its various embodiments, represents-is submitted to the test of new circumstances of human self-constitution. among the many explanations of the events of the late sixties, at least the phenomenon of the attraction exercised by the various churches of meditation and their gurus is reflective of the crisis of monotheism, and of the culture that grew around it. an increasing number of esoteric, exotic, scientific, or pseudoscientific sects today bear witness to the same. the difference is that these sects are no longer isolated, that almost the entire religious dimension of people is connected to some sect, be it even one that used to be a dominant church. religion-based values or attitudes are carried over into the new segmented practical experiences of work, family, and society, and thus into the realm of politics, law, and market relations. originating from sexual drive, love is one of the experiences from which family, friendship, art, and philosophy derived over time. once written in the book as a different form of love, once ascertained as a practical experience, it bridges between its natural biological basis and its cultural reality as a characteristic of a framework of human interaction in which individuals project their biological and cultural identity. written about in religious books, love starts a journey from naturalness to artifact. expressed as intelligence, temperament, appearance, or physical ability (our natural endowment), love is subjected, in conjunction with the experience of writing the book, to a set of expectations expressed as though they originated from outside the experience. in this process, there is no passive participant. the written word is permeated by the structural characteristics of the act of preferring somebody to somebody else, one course of action from among many, and, more generally, something over something else, according to religious values. the implicit expectation of permanency (of faith, love, or ownership) results from the pragmatic reasons acknowledged by the book(s). a consensus essential for the survival and well being of the community is reached by acknowledging forces from outside, and accepting their permanent and quasi-universal nature. in a universe of immediacy and proximity, change other than that experienced in natural cycles is not anticipated. divinity makes sense only if constituted in practical experiences from which a notion of eternity and universality result. the written words exalting unity, uniqueness, eternity, and the promise of a better future are the result of the practical experience, since in the realm of nature only the immediate and the proximate are acknowledged. forever marked by this experience of time and space beyond the immediate, the written language of religion, together with the written language of observations connected to the awareness of natural cycles (the moon, the seasons, plagues), remains a repository of the notion of permanency, universality, and uniqueness, and an instrument for hierarchical differentiation. whenever constituted in activities related to or independent of religion, language, as a product of and medium for human identification, projects these structural characteristics upon whatever the object of practical experience is. once written, the word seems to carry into eternity its own condition. with the advent of literacy, as this is made possible and necessary by a different scale of human praxis, literacy itself would appear as endowed with the quality of eternity and universality, triggering its own sense of exaltation and mission, lasting well into our day. for millions of citizens from countries south of russia, who once gave up their roots to show allegiance to the soviet empire, to return to arabic writing after being forced to adopt the cyrillic means rediscovering and reconnecting to their eternity. that some of them, caught in the geo- political confrontation of their neighbors, adopt the roman alphabet of their turkish moslem brothers, does not change the expectation. religion and efficiency in the literate forms of language experiences, not only religion, but also science and the humanities, literature, and politics are established and subjected to the practical test of efficiency. each projects a notion of permanency and universality, which is influenced by the practical experience of religion, sometimes in contradiction to the archetypal experience resulting in the notion (or notions) of god (or gods). now that the pragmatic framework of the very ample scale of human practice makes permanency and universality untenable, the tendency to escape from the confines of religion becomes evident. there is a strong sense of relativism in science, an appropriate self- doubt in humanistic discourse, and an appropriate understanding of the multiplicity and open-endedness in almost every aspect of our social and political life. this was not achieved through and in literacy, but in disregard of it, through the many partial literacies reflecting our practical self-constitution. the reality of the global nature of human experience, of interconnectedness, of its distributed nature, and of the many integrative forces at work, renders the centralism implied in the book(s) obsolete for many people. at the same time, let it also be noted that this reality makes the book even more necessary than ever for many, and at different levels of their practical life. the many religious literacies of these days-promoting permanent modes of life, exotic and less exotic codes of behavior, ways of eating and dressing, hopes for a happy future or some form of afterlife-maintain dualistic schemes of good and bad, right and wrong, sacred and secular in a world of extremely subtle and painfully vague distinctions. the question whether love and reason can undergird community awareness, social action, political activism, and education if, as seems to be the case, their connection to faith continues to decline, belongs to the same dualistic perspective. this perspective is common to both partisans and enemies of religion. it used to be the backbone of the ideology of religious suppression-either under communism, or wherever a dominant religion takes upon itself the eradication of any other religion. and it is becoming the argument of the many emancipatory movements promoting the religions of atheism and agnosticism as a substitute for religion. the subject is ultimately one of faith, concerning very intimate aspects of individual self-assessment, but not necessarily the institution of creed. still captive to dualism, brought about and nourished by experiences constitutive of literacy, we have problems coping with a world where the enemy is us and where religion is different from what it was at the time of its inception, or the time we were first were exposed to it. in view of these developments, we wonder how the rules and values established in the original religious framework are to survive. if the literacy through which these rules come to us is seen only as a vessel, a means of expressing values and criteria for evaluation, then any other means could perform the same function. the crystal cathedral of television fame, no less than the web sites of many churches, proves the point. since we are our language, and we constitute ourselves as spiritual and physical entities in the experience of language, writing cannot be seen as a passive medium, nor reading as a mechanical rendition. accordingly, the medium through which religion is expressed affects the religion, changes its condition. applied to contemporary religious experience, this argument is confirmed again and again. from the entire practical experience of religion, what survives is the liturgy, transformed into a performance of limited cathartic impact. merchandising completes this new condition of faith. for millennia, a community considered its priests vital to its survival. in the civilization of illiteracy, the situation is reversed. ministers, and to some extent priests, depend on a community for their survival. ministers are in the business of selling themselves as much as they are in the business of selling their church or even god. some evangelists remain independent in the sense that they package their own programs for presentation to large crowds in tents, in auditoriums, or on television. these religious enterprises create a vast business empire around a persona. as long as the enterprise can deliver what the preacher promises-through his performance act and the merchandise he sells to the faithful-then the tele-congregants-no less fascinated by celebrity than the rest of society-will buy him. a newer phenomenon is less personality dependent and more message- oriented, but the goal is the same: ministers need to make a living. relying on information polled from hundreds of middle-class non-churchgoers, some enterprising ministers came up with a product bound to please: nothing boring or aggressive; cost- efficiency; comfortable seating; no organ. according to a study by the harvard business school, the resulting church was the embodiment of the phrase "knowing your customers and meeting their needs." church attendance grew by relying on customer recommendation. soon, the ministers franchised their operation in localities with a target market: -to- -year-old seekers ("a growing market"), with middle to upper middle class salaries. other seekers look in different directions. almost anyone with a message can establish a religion, and sometimes entire sects are based on just a few words from the bible (the seventh-day adventists, for example, or the snake handlers of the appalachians, or the pentecostals). participatory forms of worship are another trend. they may derive inspiration from the book, but they aim to involve avenues of perception not bound to literacy: song, dance, meditation, the inhaling of aroma, touching minerals. some religions hark back to nature, animism, and what can be called neo-paganism, as in the wikka religion. no matter how far back some of these religions claim to go, they are religions of the civilization of illiteracy. they do not repeat the original pragmatic framework but respond to today's framework of self-constitution and the individual needs or desires of the people who constitute themselves as religious through these new manifestations. while observations made in language can be subjected to confirmation, religious assumptions are expressed through the inner reality of language, and are only subject to language correctness. it is impressive how language houses concepts for which there is no referent in practical experience, but which are constituted exactly because some aspects of practical experience cannot be otherwise explained. in the history of how ideas, generalities, and abstractions are formed, the experience of religion is of particular interest. values and beliefs that cannot be submitted to the physical senses, but can be comprehended through language-written, read, sung, danced, and celebrated-are transmitted through religion. many assume that the new status of religion in our day is due not only to market pressure and obsession with consumption, but also to the advancement of science. supposed to debunk the rationality of faith and offer its own rationality as the basis of new ways of understanding the origin of life, the role of human beings, the source of good and evil, and the nature of transcendence, science introduces a positivist conception of facts, irreconcilable with that of the relativity of religious images. research in artificial intelligence discovered that " % of human activity (is) concept- free, driven by control mechanisms we share not only with our simian forebears, but with insects." if this is indeed true, the role of rationality, religious or scientific, in our practical experiences of self-constitution has to be revisited. the various manifestations of religion subtly address this need because they recognize dimensions of human experience that cannot be reduced to scientific explanations and logic, or cannot be explained without explaining them away in the process. one interesting tendency in the civilization of illiteracy is less to assimilate the new science and technology-as was the case only - years ago-and more to subject it to what religion considers right. fundamentalism of any kind corresponds to the dynamics of this illiterate society, in the sense that it promotes a very limited and limiting subset of the language of religion, in a world segmented into more religious denominations than ever before. if over , registered churches serve the religious needs of the population in the usa, and almost as many meeting places are available to small groups of believers, nobody will seriously argue that people are less religious, rather that they are religious in a different way, often integrating the latest in science and technology. among the most active internet forums, religion maintains a presence supported by the best that technology can offer. with each new scientific theory unveiling the deeper structure of matter, more subtle forms of interconnectedness among phenomena, new sources of creativity, and new limits of the universe, the need for religion changes. to cope with complexity means either to have a good command of it-which seems less and less possible-or to accept a benevolent underwriting. the challenge of complexity generates its own need for creed. social, economic, and political realities are not always encouraging. integration based on pragmatic motives increases, as does individual anxiety. no matter how much we learn about death, we are still not free of its frightening randomness. realistically speaking, the belief in an afterlife and the dedication to cryonics are less far apart than they seem at first glance. religiosity in the civilization of illiteracy some will argue, probably with good reason, that religion in the civilization of illiteracy is but another form of consumerism, or at least of manipulation. no matter what the religious occasion, and if it is still indeed of religious motivation, the market celebrates its highest results in anticipation of holidays (the former holy days). the , car dealerships, many designed as car cathedrals, and almost , shopping malls get more visitors during the holiday season than do churches. in addition, even ceremonies whose significance is fundamentally different today than during previous periods, generate more business than religious awareness. the language of ceremonies is entrusted to consultants in marriage, confirmation, baptism, bar mitzvah, and death. texts related to circumstances of practical experiences different from those of our day are written and read, or, to be more precise, performed without either understanding what kind of pragmatics made them necessary or realizing the discrepancy between past and present pragmatics. this is why they ring so hollow in our day. when permanence is exalted, faithfulness promised, acceptance of biblical or other precepts (of the koran, of far eastern pantheistic religions) ascertained, literacy and religion are only mimicked. talaba, the rubles (or whatever the currency of choice) per month paid by shiite missionaries from iran, brings many tadjiks, uzbeks, and turkmenians to the new religious schools of islam. chances are that a higher bidder from another religion would spoil the game. under the new pragmatic circumstances of human self-constitution, change, variety, self-determination, individualism, negation of authority, divine or secular, and skepticism are decisive for reaching the levels of efficiency demanded by a dynamic scale of existence. today's world is not one of generalized atheism. it is, rather, one of many partial religious literacies, sharing in some basic symbolism, although not necessarily in a unifying framework for its consistent interpretation. many do not believe, for reasons of science or convenience, in the religious explanation of the origin of the universe and life. or they do not care for the message of love and goodness embedded in almost every current manifestation of faith. they see in every religious book the handwriting of some groups who, in order to impose their values, invented the image of a supreme force in order to achieve, if not authority, at least credibility. we live in an environment of compromise and tolerance, infinite distinctions, fast sequences of failure and success, challenged authority and generalized democracy. in today's huge and ineffective social mechanism, in the integrated and networked world, individual failure does not affect the performance of the system. illiteracy, while dangerous under circumstances characteristic for the pragmatic of the recent past, only marginally affects the levels of efficiency reached. religiosity, of consequence in the same pragmatic framework, plays no role whatsoever in the illiterate practical experiences of human self-constitution. calling such assessments heresies, as some might be inclined to do, does not really answer the question of whether religious law can still serve, alone or together with other laws, as the binding tie of community-as it does not address the broader issues of whether literacy can serve as the binding tie of community. because of their pragmatic nature, characteristics of religion and structural characteristics of language are fundamentally similar. if we want to understand the condition of religion today, we have to specifically address the pragmatic circumstances of self-constitution within the civilization of illiteracy. in the events of tele-evangelism there is no place for literacy. but the video church, and computer-aided religion, the bible on cd-rom, or cd-i, the vacation village for believers, and religious tourism are mainly forms of entertainment. their validity is divorced from the concept of the exalted individual, critical in the context of a small- scale community. consequently, the religious dimension of transcendence is annihilated. ours is the time of the eternal instant, not of some vague eternity promised as reward after the present. partially banalized through abuse of the word, concepts such as dignity, decency, and human values have become the clichés of the video church, with as many gospels as there are preachers. religiosity today differs from the religiosity of previous pragmatic frameworks insofar as it corresponds to the accentuated insularity of the individual. as long as the viewer is only a digit away on his or her remote control from a pornography channel, from the latest quote on the stock market, of from a commercial message-for denture adhesive, gastric relief, and home pregnancy tests-it is difficult, if not impossible, to distinguish between sanctity and triviality, righteousness and venality. the global community of tele-viewing is splitting into smaller and smaller groups. and tv, as a pulpit of missionary activity, reveals itself as only syntactically different from the missionary work of advertisement. mass religion proves to be as impersonal as the market. in effect, it severs the relations between religion and the mysterious, still unexplained aspects of human existence. a virtual reality package can be as good as the performance of having the blind see, and the cripple leave the wheelchair to enter the -meter dash. the virtual cathedral, the stadium, and the mass audience addressed in front of the camera are themselves of a scale inadequate to both the teaching disseminated and the nature of religious experience, no matter how far the effort to change the vocabulary goes. the language of the books is rooted in experiences to which the tele-viewer no longer has a direct relation. they cannot be substituted in a medium adapted to change and variety. the categories that religious discourse centers on-faith, goodness, transcendence, authority, sin, punishment-were established in a pragmatic framework totally different from that of the present. today, existence offers variety, immediate satisfaction, and protection from the whims of nature. the sense of danger has changed. the equity accumulated by the church in these categories may be enough to entitle claims of ownership, given people's inertia, but not to maintain them as effective means of affecting current practical experiences. it might well be true that three out of five americans now believe there is a hell, and that people in other countries share the same assumption, but this has no bearing on their self-constitution in the world of quickly changing scenarios for fulfillment outside faith. networking and distributed work are better synchronized with the pragmatics of high efficiency of our day. software for interactive multimedia keeps track of a person's religious patterns, and provides prayer and interpretation integrated in the same package. in its attempt to adapt to a new framework of human activity, religion adopted social causes (renouncing its metaphysics), scientific terminology (renouncing agnosticism), or the means of entertainment (renouncing its asceticism). with each step outside the boundaries of religion, the transcendental dimension is sacrificed. this dimension is embedded in the medium of literacy through which religious practical experience became a fixture in society. when the word does not satisfy, believers resort to other means of expression, some older than religion. it is not unusual to have a religious celebration during the day in some catholic churches in brazil, and at night, on the same altar, a chicken sacrificed to yemenyá. the literate celebration, of european import, and the illiterate sacrifice to which a different group of believers connects, are impossible to reconcile. in this framework, freedom of choice, as vulgar or trivial as those choices might be, takes precedence over authority. in brazil, "graças a deus!" is paired with the practice of african cults (candomblé, umbanda, macumba), just as "allah-hu-akbar" is with shamanistic or buddhist celebrations in azerbaidjan and kazakstan. these are particular expressions of religion in the civilization of illiteracy, as much as tv evangelism is. for as much as religion was submitted to the word, performance always seems to get the upper hand. to blindly ascertain permanence against the background of change would only further undermine religious practice. this is why the new religions focus on the immediate and produce the reward as fast as it is expected. the continuous proliferation of new religious denominations, soon to be as many as there are people who constitute the networks of human interaction in today's pragmatic context, reflects also the ability of the church to adapt. but this was not religion's reason for being in the first place, and will not represent more than what actually happens when we all wear the same shoes, or shirts, or hats but read a different label on each, when we all eat the same food that is only packaged differently, when we all vote for the same politics (or lack of same) while maintaining party affiliations. when each has his or her own god, god ceases to exist. with the end of the civilization of literacy, partial religious literacies emerge, developing their own languages, their own organizations, their own justification. the heterogeneity of the world, its intrinsic relativity, and its dynamics of change mark religious practical experiences in ways not dissimilar to those of scientific, artistic, political, educational, moral, and many other experiences. consumption of the language of religion in ceremonies and holidays that promote the expectation of more and cheaper, on which the quest for unlimited satisfaction of needs and desires is based, does not qualify anyone as religious or literate. neither does secularism for that matter, no less illiterate, and no less subjected to the same expectation of high efficiency which undermines the core of any religion. secular religion in our day of increased secularism, the extent to which religion permeates people's lives, whether faithful, indifferent (neutral), or actively antireligious, is probably difficult to assess. the separation of church and state is powerfully anchored in constitutions and declarations of independence, while new presidents, kings, emperors, state officials, and members of the judiciary still swear on the books of their religious faith, invoke their respective gods as the ultimate judge (or help), and openly, or covertly, participate in the rituals inherited from theological practical experiences. the dominant symbolism of our day has a religious aura. it seems that both the faithful and the secularists of all nuances entered a mutual agreement in sanctioning what came to be known as civil religion. people pledge allegiance to the flag, get emotionally carried away when the national anthem is played, and partake in the celebration of holidays, never questioning their justification. these elements of civil religion come to us in perverted forms, divorced from the pragmatic context within which they were constituted. to swear on the bible was specifically prohibited ("you are not to swear at all, not by heaven, for it is god's throne, nor by earth, for it is his footstool..." matthew : - ). swearing-in ceremonies take place in the open in order to make them manifest to the gods. in some countries a window is still opened when an oath of office is recited. holidays, meant as occasions of religious recollection, or to instill a sense of solidarity, remain only what each person makes of them. even more, in countries making a point of avoiding the domination of one religion over another, the holidays of the dominant religion become the holidays of the entire nation, enjoyed foremostly as market celebrations. to notice the contradictory nature of the presence of religion in contexts of secular practical experiences, some directly contrary to religious beliefs, means to notice how some of the motivations of religion expatiate in a context contradicting the legitimacy of the theological experience in our day and age. this became clear even within the particular circumstances of revolutions whose stated goal was to eradicate religion through state oppression or by education. the french revolution discovered, soon after the king and other members of the power elite were decapitated, that the authority of its ideals, embodied in the call for liberty, equality, fraternity, was not enough, despite being housed in the same body of literacy as religion was, to substitute for the higher authority of divinity. the soviet revolution hoped that theater or cinematography would substitute for religion, or at least for church. some of its ideologues experimented with a secular god- building strategy, inventing a sui generis higher force to which people could relate, and on which hope could be placed. they tried, very much in the spirit of the utopian marx, to deify the collective force of the working class in order to inspire a religious sense of community. enormous energy was invested in designing new rituals. many of the atheist artists of the russian avant-garde served the cause they thought opened the gates of artistic freedom and universal love. their own escape from the realm of literacy into the realm of imagery-intended to replace the confining texts of religion and ideology-should have warned them about the impossibility of the task at hand. disappointed by their own naiveté, but incapable of acknowledging failure, some of them wound up embracing the new civic religion of gods and holidays, as shallow as the theology around which they were built. what we identify in all these elements is the continuation of structural characteristics pertinent to religion and to the medium of its expression, i.e., literacy in a fundamentally different context. the encompassing principles of tolerance, equality, and freedom contradict the spirit on which religion and literacy were based. they weaken our convictions of what is right and efficient in view of the desired end, and of endurance as a group. the decline of morals in a context in which moral behavior does not affect efficiency is not due to the decline in religiosity, but to the general perception, justified or not, that morality and religion do not count; or that they play no role in making people happy. the sanctity of life gone, there is little sanctity left in forms of celebrating it: birthdays, communions, marriage, funerals. between birth and death, the audience at our rites of passage diminishes painfully. we know that death is very personal, but communities, for pragmatic reasons, used to confront death and its consequences, many related to inheritance, not relegate it to specialists in the various aspects of dying. death is reduced to a biological event leading only to biochemical decomposition: no fun, no direct practical significance for others, except in the inheritance process, a market event for funeral parlors and pushy clergy. appropriation of life events in the civilization of illiteracy equals the structuring of small languages of post-literate celebrations, taken over by baptism, communion, and marriage consultants, all alienated from the religious meaning they had, moreover from the initial pragmatic motivation. literacy stood as the rulebook for all these direct, integrated, sequentialized, deterministic occurrences. the illiterate celebrates the randomness and the relative and makes everything a festival of randomness-crime, deadly disease, a riot, a bargain, a love affair. religion and church tried to instill permanency. baptism was the initiation rite that opened the cycle. confirmation entailed acceptance in the community. marriage, once and forever, introduced a sense of unity and continuity. the last rites freed one from life for an afterlife in which the deceased still watched over the living faithful. today, each of these moments is associated with a civil ritual: birth is recorded in the town or city hall. the child must have a social security number by the age of two. at age five, children must enter school. children no longer join the community as responsible members at the age of or years, but they are given rights that they sometimes cannot handle. marriage and the establishment of family come much later than in earlier pragmatic contexts. extracted from the religious context, family life is a strange mixture of biological convenience and contractual obligations. death, always the focus of religion, is defined in terms of its effects on efficiency. the fine distinction between clinical death and total death only shows how priests, the final witnesses to the end of a life, are replaced by the technologists who keep the heart beating under the alibi of "sanctity of life." life ends as it begins, as an entry in the record books, for tax purposes. japanese parents-to-be might still consult an ekisha (a sort of fortune teller) in order to choose the proper name for a newborn infant, already thinking about the marriage (names should fit in order to ensure harmony); others will have difficulty in understanding the similarity between choosing a name and the observance of agricultural cycles, as both were religiously encoded in minute rules centuries ago. these people will even cringe at the discourse in a monastery where the priest might indulge in the discussion of the unity between inner order (of the individual) and outer order. the fact that mandala, traded all over the world, once represented that order escapes their personal experience. religions distinguished between nature and cosmos. whether explicitly stated or not, nature was seen as earthbound, the source of our existence, the provider. cosmos, beyond our reach, should not be interfered with. the experience of extraterrestrial research expanded the notion of nature. in today's integrated world, resources and environmental concerns also contribute to the expanded notion of nature pertinent to our activity and life. our worries about pollution of earth, oceans, and skies are not religious in nature. neither is the distinction between what is feasible and what is desirable. the ten commandments tell us what we should not do, while the devil called desire whispers into our ears that nothing is forbidden unless we really do not care for it. the relation between the wholeness of the being and its parts is subject to maintenance, just as the automobile is. once gods were described as jealous and intolerant. now they are presented as accommodating a world of diversified experiences and heterogeneous forms of worship, including satanism. our pragmatic context is one of generalized pluralism, embodied in the many choices we pursue in the practical experience of self-constitution. when the pragmatics of self-constitution can be based on rationality, the churches of the civilization of illiteracy are houses of secular religion. a mouthful of microwave diet have you ever ordered a pizza over the internet? it is an experience in illiterate cooking. the image on the screen allows clients to prepare the most individualized pizza one can think of: they decide what the shape, size, and thickness of the crust will be; which spices and how much; what kind of cheese; and which toppings. they can arrange these the way they want, layer them, and control how much tomato sauce, if any, should be used. done? ask your children, or your guests, whether they want to correct your design. the on-line chef is open to suggestions. all set? the pizza will be delivered in minutes-or it's free. the entire transaction is illiterate: selection is made by clicking an image. with each choice, prices are automatically calculated and listed. addition is as error-free as it can get. taxes are calculated and automatically transferred to the irs. a voice announces over the internet, "food is ready! thank you for your order. and please visit us again." no, this is not fantasy. pizza shops and hamburger joints figure visibly on the internet (still in its infancy). their structure and functioning, as well as the expectations connected to them, are what defines them as belonging to the civilization of illiteracy. but the picture of what people eat and how their food is prepared is more complicated than what this example conveys. this chapter will describe how we arrived at this point, and what the consequences of the fundamental shift from the civilization of literacy in our relation to food are. food and expectations how does one connect food to literacy? in the first place, how we eat is as important as what we eat and how we prepare it. there is a culture of dining, and an entire way of viewing food-from obtaining raw ingredients to preparation and to eating-that reflects values instilled in the civilization of literacy. food and eating in the civilization of illiteracy are epitomized not only by the pizza outlet on the internet, by mcdonalds, burger king, and the frozen dinner waiting to be thrown into the microwave oven, but also by the vast industry of efficient production of primary and secondary foodstuffs, the anonymous, segmented processing of nutrition. it is not an individual's literacy that characterizes the meal, but the pragmatic framework in which people emerge and how they project their characteristics, including dietary and taste expectations, in the process. the hunger-driven primitive human and the spoiled patron of a good italian restaurant have in common only the biological substratum of their need, expressed in the very dissimilar acts of hunting and, respectively, selecting items from a menu. primitive beings are identified by projecting, in the universe of their existence, natural qualities pertinent to the experience of feeding themselves: sight, hearing, smell, speed, force. restaurant patrons project natural abilities filtered through a culture of eating: taste, dietary awareness, ability to select and combine. these two extremes document a commonalty of human self-constitution. nevertheless, what is of interest in the attempt to understand food and eating in the civilization of illiteracy are actually differences. the nuclei of ancient incipient agriculture, which were also the places of origin for many language families, are distinct pragmatic frameworks relevant also to the experience of cooking. within agriculture, absolute dependencies on nature are changed to relative dependencies, since more food is produced than is needed for survival. the food of this period is cause for some of the rituals associated with the elements involved in producing it. the layers between animal hunger and the new hunger, filter new experiences of satisfaction or illness, of pleasure or pain, of self-control or abuse. symbolism (concerning fertility, agriculture, power) confirms patterns of successful or failed practical experiences against the background of increased awareness of the biological characteristics of the species. notation and writing contribute to the change of balance between the natural and the cultural. but the difference between the primitive eater and the person who awaits his dinner at a table derives from the distinctive conditions of their existence. in the pragmatic framework that constitutes the foundation for literacy, expectations regarding food were already in place: slow rhythm, awareness of the environment, environment and natural cycles, labor division according to sex and age (the female was usually the homemaker and cook). food preparation was characterized by its intrinsic sequentiality, by linear dependencies among its variables. cooking was inspired and supported by the sequence of seasons, local stock, and relative immediacy of needs, affected by weather conditions, intensity of effort, and celebration pertinent to seasons or special events. in short, the relation to food was governed by the same principles that notation and writing were. in the civilization of illiteracy, personal attitudes towards preparing food and eating, whether at home or in a restaurant, are affected by a different pragmatic framework. probably more is known about food in the civilization of illiteracy than at any other time in the history of agriculture and cuisine. but this knowledge does not come from the direct experience of the food, i.e., how it is grown and processed. human beings in the civilization of illiteracy know better why they eat than what they eat. it is not what is in the food that concerns many people, but what the food is supposed to do for them: maintain and service the body through the proper balance of vitamins, minerals, and protein; help people cope with residue; and, eventually, conjure meaning as a symbol in a universe of competing symbolisms. fashion extends to food, too! people feed themselves today according to expectations different from those of primitive human beings-hunters, farmers, craftsmen, and workers involved in pre- industrial experience. needs are different, and food resources are different. many layers of humanity stand between an individual projecting animal hunger in a world of competing animals and an individual expressing desire for french cuisine, in its authentic variations, in its snobbish form, or in its fast food versions, fresh or frozen, regular or dietetic. pizza, spaghetti, falafel, sushi, tortillas, cold cuts, and egg rolls figure no less on the list of choices. many filters, in the form of various taboos and restrictions, as well as personal tastes, are at work. meaning is incidentally elicited as one chooses the recipe of a celebrity cook, or decides on a certain restaurant. the hungry primitive human, the human beings working the land in the agricultural phase, the farmers, craftsmen, soldiers, and scholars of the pre-industrial age expected only that food would still their hunger. more is expected from the eating experience today, and some of these expectations have nothing to do with hunger. people take it for granted that they can buy any type of food from anywhere in the world, at any time of the year. globality is thus acknowledged, just as the sequence of seasons is ignored. in between these two extremes is the literate eating experience, with its own expectations. the experience of eating reflected a way of life, a way of self-constitution as civilized, progressive, literate. here are the words of charles dickens, recorded during his visit to the united states in . he gave a vivid summary of american eating habits west of the big eastern cities (boston, new york) as he observed them on steamboats and in inns where stagecoaches stopped for the night in pennsylvania, ohio, and missouri. i never in my life did see such listless, heavy dulness [sic] as brooded over these meals: the very recollection of it weighs me down, and makes me, for the moment, wretched. reading and writing on my knee, in our little cabin, i really dreaded the coming of the hour that summoned us to table; and was as glad to escape from it again as if it had been a penance or a punishment. healthy cheerfulness and good spirits forming part of the banquet, i could soak my crusts in the fountain with le sage's strolling players, and revel in their glad enjoyment: but sitting down with so many fellow-animals to ward off thirst and hunger as a business; to empty each creature his yahoo's trough as quickly as he can, and then to slink sullenly away; to have these social sacraments stripped of everything but the mere greedy satisfaction of the natural cravings; goes so against the grain with me, that i seriously believe the recollection of these funeral feasts will be a waking nightmare to me all my life. dickens was the epitome of the literate experience, and he was addressing a literate audience that had literate expectations in the experience of dining: what time meals were held, who sat where and next to whom, the order in which certain foods were served, how long a meal should last, what topics could be discussed. literate characteristics persist in the literate frameworks of political and formal dinners: hierarchy (who sits where), the order in which food is presented, the types of dishes and eating utensils. fishing in a videolake many questions come to mind with respect to how, and what, and when, people eat and drink. human beings still project their reality in the environment through biological characteristics-the ability to see, smell, taste, move, jump, etc.-but some in unnatural ways. not only do we help vision with glasses and hearing with aid devices, but even taste and smell are helped through the appropriate chemistry, in order to buffer some odor and enhance others. from odorless garlic to tofu smelling of pork chops, everything is within the possibility of biochemistry. at the extreme, nutrition is altogether removed from the context of nature. this is the case not just with people who are fed artificially, through tubes, pills, or special concoctions. what does this have to do with literacy? how is it influenced, if at all, by the increased illiteracy of the new condition of human activity? the answers are far from being trivial. an editorialist from germany, a country of solid, if not necessarily refined, eating instincts, went to great lengths to explain the alienation of nourishment in our age. the final scene he described is comic and sad at the same time. some artificially obtained nutritive substance, molded in the shape of fish, is fried and served to a video- literate who eats the food while watching a videotape about fishing. the ersatz experience of tele-viewing is probably disconnected from the experience of river, trees, sunshine, and fish biting the hook, not to mention the taste of fresh fish. dwindling stocks of fish is one reason why we can no longer afford the nourishment that results from direct involvement with nature. not everyone can or wants to be a hunter, a fisherman, or a farmer. the romanticism of literacy, and of the utopian ideologies it helps express, would lead some to believe that this is possible, even desirable. but maybe not, since the new scale of humankind does not go unnoticed, even by those still clinging to the continuity and permanency embodied in literacy. values, rules, and expectations such as health considerations, efficiency, and taste are embodied in programs and procedures for which machines are built, new substances designed, and waste reprocessed. it might make some people shiver, but about % of a person's average caloric intake is the result of artificial synthesis and genetic engineering. louis de funés (in a french film directed by claude zidi) almost wound up as part of the food processed at tricatel, a new factory that produces tasteless food based on the rules and looks of french cuisine, which the factory effectively undermines. the comedian, performing as a food inspector, has to decide what the real thing is and what is the fake. competing with this burlesque, a national program, awakening of taste, under the aegis of the minister of culture, was set up to encourage french students in primary schools to rediscover the true national cuisine. that such a program parallels the effort of the académie française to maintain the purity and integrity of the language is a convenient argument concerning the interdependence of the ideal of literacy and that of haute cuisine. the movie satirizes the human being's relation to food and technology. eating something reminiscent of a fish, whether farmed or synthetically produced, while having video nostalgia for fishing is not an exception. in the mental gardens we plant each spring, when magazines and television shows present images of the beautiful tomatoes we might enjoy in a few months, there is a virtual space for every practical experience we gave up in order to satisfy our desire for more at the lowest price. the tomato in the civilization of illiteracy, hydroponic or garden grown, ripens faster, is perfect in form, and tastes almost like we think it should. irony and science fiction aside, we are indeed engineering proteins, carbohydrates, fats, vitamins, and minerals. they are designed to optimally maintain the human being and enhance his or her performance. this can be seen as a new phase in the process of transferring knowledge pertinent to nourishment from the encompassing and dominating medium of literacy to the many partial literacies- chemical, biological, genetic-of the civilization of illiteracy. having in mind the image of where we currently stand and the direction in which we are heading, we can trace human self-constitution with the practical experience of food. language and nourishment the relation between what people eat, how they prepare their food, how they serve and how they eat it, is accounted for in language, especially in its literate use, in many ways. experiences of our continuous constitution through work, personal life, habits, defense, and aggression are expressed through language and other manifestations of our nature and culture. the same holds true for such peculiarities as the way people eat, entertain, dress, make love, and play. language, as one among many expressive means, is a medium for representation, but also for diversifying experiences. it supports the research of new realms of existence, and participates in the maintenance of the integrity of human interdependencies as they develop in work, leisure, and meditation. when the question "why are there fewer alcoholics in china, korea, japan, and india?" was asked, answers were sought in culture. reformulated as "why can't asians tolerate alcohol?" the question shifted the focus from what we do or do not do- the filters of exclusion or preference-to biology. environmental, cultural, social, psychological, and cognitive characteristics can be acknowledged once the biological substratum is brought to light. many people of asian origin display an intolerance to alcohol that is due to a metabolism peculiar to their race. the intolerance to alcohol is associated with the lack of a catalytic enzyme, which under normal circumstances does not affect the functioning of the body. only when alcohol is consumed do unpleasant symptoms appear: the face becomes flushed, skin temperature rises, the pulse quickens. europeans, black africans, and north american indians are not affected in the same way. but they are subject to other genetically determined food sensitivities. for example, lactose intolerance is highest in blacks. the example given above tells us that the projection of biological characteristics into the universe of people's existence results in the image of differences among various groups of people and among individuals. people noticed these peculiarities before science existed in order to explain them. relating the effect to a cause-a certain food or drink-people incorporate this relation into their body of experiences. established connections become rules that are intended to ensure optimal individual and group functioning. rules pertaining to food and ways of eating were eventually encoded and transmitted through literate means. in short, patterns of work and life are affected. they point to various levels at which human practical experiences and the experience of nourishment are interconditioned. a first level regards nourishment and our biological endowment. a second level is nourishment and the environment-what we can afford from the world surrounding us. a third level is nourishment and self-consciousness-what best suits our life and work. over time the interdependency changes. and at moments when the scale of mankind reaches a threshold, it is drastically redefined-as in our times, for instance. on a larger scale, food- and drinking-related instances prompt vast servicing activities and the establishment of networks of distributed tasks. today, diet engineers, caterers, geneticists, nutritionists, are set up to provide whatever fits the occasion, the guest list, dietary prescriptions, and astrological or medical recommendations. a formal dinner can become a well mediated activity, with many prefabricated components, including table manners-if the commissioning party so desires. associated or not to the menu, a preparatory seminar in what to wear, how to use utensils (if more than plastic spoons and knives are used), what kind of conversation with the entrée, and which jokes before, or after, or instead of the wine, educates for the event. in fact, the buffet, a configuration from which each can assemble his or her menu, not unlike the on-line order form for the internet pizza, is more and more preferred. it is less confining than the literacy-based sequence of the three-course meals-structured as introduction, thesis, and conclusion, known under the labels appetizer, main entrée, dessert. sequence and configuration revisited with writing and reading, the experience of feeding oneself and one's family expanded to partaking in the experience of food preservation and sharing. french assyriologist jean bottero read recipes, in cuneiform writing on clay tablets from around bce, for food cooked at important occasions for people in power. that this was "cuisine of striking richness, refinement, sophistication, and artistry" should not necessarily impress us here. but the description of the ingredients, some no longer known or in use, of the sequence, and the context (celebration) deserve attention: "head, legs and tail should be singed. take the meat. bring water to boil. add fat. onions, samidu, leeks, garlic, some blood, some fresh cheese, the whole beaten together. add an equal amount of plain suhutium." this is a stew of kid, a meal for an exceptional occasion. the pragmatic framework that made this cooking possible also made writing possible and necessary. over time, this connection became even closer. between the experiences of language and that of eating and drinking, a continuum of interactions can be noticed. language distinctions pertinent to the practical experience of cultivating plants, taking care of animals, processing milk, and seasoning food expanded from satisfying needs to creating desires associated with taste. new knowledge is stimulated by experiences different from nourishment, such as new forms of work (cooking included), use of new resources, new tools, and new skills. and so is the expression of logic in the act of preparing, serving, and eating the food. on reading a book of recipes from the tiberian era of the roman empire-de re culinaria (the art of cooking, attributed to gaelius apicius) and de re rustica (by cato)-one can discern how things have changed over years. apicius expressed many distinctions in foods and in ways of cooking and eating. he also expressed a certain concern for health. "digging one's grave with one's teeth," as the expression came to life in connection with gluttony (crisp tongues of larks, dormice marinated in honey, tasty thighs of ostrich are listed), was replaced by elaborate recipes to relieve an upset stomach or to facilitate digestion. the books do not say what everyone ate, and there are reasons to believe that there was quite a difference between the menu of slaves and that of their owners. advances in identifying plants and in processing food go in tandem with advances in medicine. writings from other parts of the world, especially china, testify to similar developments. it was already remarked, by no other than roland barthes, that the two basic language systems-one based on ideographic writing, the second on the phonetic convention-put their characteristic stamp on the menus of the far eastern and western civilizations. a japanese menu is an expression of a configuration. one can start with any of the dishes offered simultaneously. combinations are allowed. eating is part of the japanese culture, a practical experience of self-constitution with strong visual components, refined combinations of odors, and participation of almost all senses. it also reflects the awareness of the world in which the japanese constitute themselves. japanese food is focused on what life on an island affords, plus/minus influences from other cultures, resulting from the mobility of peoples. the more concrete writing system of the far east and the more down-to-earth nourishment, i.e., the closeness to what each source of nutrition is (raw fish, seaweed, rice, minimal processing, strict dietary patterns based on combinations of nutritional ideograms), are an expression of the unity of the pragmatic framework within which they result. a western menu is a sequence, a one-directional linear event with a precise culmination. eating proceeds from the introduction to the conclusion, "from soup to nuts." a meal has a progression and projects expectations associated with this progression. within the language of our food, there are well formed sentences and ill- formed sentences, as well as a general tendency experience gastronomic pleasure. a literate society is a society aware of the rules for generating and enjoying meals according to such rules. the rules are based on experiences transmitted from one generation to the next, not necessarily in written form, but reflecting the intrinsic sequentiality of language and its abstract writing system. goethe fired his cook (lina louise axthelm) because she could not realize the distinction between healthy meals and the more sophisticated art of preparing them according to rules of literacy and aesthetic distinction. on cooks, pots, and spoons cooking food-a practical experience that followed catching prey-represents an important moment in human self-definition. as a form of praxis, it parallels the experience of self-constitution through language. it extends, as language does, far beyond satisfying immediate needs, allowing for the establishment of expectations above and beyond survival. cooking implies generality, but also integrates elements of individuality. some foods taste better, are more easily digested, support specific practical experiences. for example, some foods enhance prowess. when eaten before a hunt, they can trigger lust for chasing the animal. some foods stimulate sexual drive, others induce states of hallucination. cooking was, in many ways, a journey from the known into the unknown. together with the sensorial experience, intellectual elements were involved in the process. they are observations, of similarities and dissimilarities of certain procedures, of substances used, of the influence of weather, season, tools, etc.; simple inferences, discoveries-the effect of fire, salt, spices. the experience of preparing food, together with many other practical experiences on which it depends or which are connected to it, opens avenues of abstraction. cooking improves the quality of individual life, and thus empowers members of a community to better adapt to pragmatic expectations. the constitution of the notion of food quality, as an abstraction of taste, and crafting of tools appropriate to the activity, is of special interest. an example: pottery, in the natural context where it was possible, became the medium for preserving and cooking. in other contexts, carved stone, carved wood, woven branches, or metal was used, for storing or for cooking, according to the material. progressively, tools for preparing and tools for eating were crafted, and new eating habits were acknowledged. when the multiple interdependency food-container-cooking-preservation was internalized in the activity of preparing food, a framework for new experiences was established. some of these experiences, such as how to handle fire, transcend nourishment. the significance of this process can be succinctly expressed: cooked food, which we need to associate to the tools used, is food taken out of the context of nature and introduced in the context of culture. the experience of cooking involves other experiences and then expands into other domains unrelated to nourishment. this experience requires instruments for cooking, but even more an understanding of the process involved, of the effects of combinations and additions, and a strategy for delivery to those for whom cooking was undertaken. satisfying hunger in the fight for survival is an individual experience. preparation of food requires time. in the experience of achieving time awareness, cooking played a role not to be ignored. if time can be used for different purposes by different people, associated in view of shared goals, then some can tend to the need of prepared food for others, while in turn partaking in their effort of hunting, fishing, agriculture, and craftsmanship. it was a simple strategy of labor assignments, affected by tribal life, family, rituals, myth, and religion: knowledge gained in preparing food disseminated without the need for specialized activity. but once pragmatic circumstances of life required it, some people assumed the function and thus, once a critical mass of efficiency was reached, what we today call the cook was identified. from the not-too- many written recipes that come down to us through the centuries, as well as from religious writings containing precise, pragmatically motivated restrictions, we learn enough about the stabilizing role of writing upon food preparation. we also gain understanding of the new functions played by food preparation: celebration of events, sacrifice to gods, expression of power. people learn to cook and to eat at the same time. in this process, they come to share values beyond the immediacy of plants, fruits, and a piece of meat. mediations pertinent to the art of cooking and eating are also part of the language process and become language. culinary restrictions, such as those set down in some religions, are but an example of this process. they encode practical rules related to survival and well- being, but also to some conventions beyond the physical reality of the food. language makes such rules the rules of the community; writing preserves them as requirements and thus exercises an important normative role. each pragmatic context determined what was acceptable as food and the conditions of food preparation, henceforth the condition of cooks and their particular role in social life. many cooks, serving at courts of royalty, in monasteries, in the military, became the object of folk tales, fiction, of philosophers' comments. no cook seems to have been highly educated, but all their clients tried to impress through the food served and the wines, or other drinks, accompanying them. in such circumstances, the symbolic function of food indeed takes over the primary function of satisfying hunger. thus the cook, like the singer and the dancer and the poet, contributes his part to what becomes the art of living. it is probably worth pointing out that memory devices similar to those used by poets and musicians are used by cooks, and that improvisation in preparing a meal plays an important part. writing entered the kitchen; and some of the last to resist literacy, when it became a pragmatic requirement, were those who cooked for others. orality is more stubborn, for many reasons, when it involves the secrecy of food preparation. there are good reasons for this, some obvious even in our day of cracking the most guarded secrets. indeed, labor division does not stop at the gates of factories. the segmentation of life and labor, increased mediation, and expectations of high efficiency make mass production possible. almost everything people need to feed themselves, in order to maintain their physical and mental productive powers with a minimum of investment, is provided in favor of productive cycles. in the pragmatic framework of the industrial age, this meant the reproduction of the productive forces of the worker in a context of permanency. the investment in education and training was to be recuperated over a lifetime of work. nourishment contributed to the same pattern: the family adapted to the rhythms of the practical experience of industry related jobs. at work, at home, in school, at church, and last but not least in nourishment, acceptance of authority together with the discipline of self-denial were at work. that literacy, through its own structural characteristics (hierarchy, authority, standardization) accentuated all these peculiarities should at this time be evident. on special occasions, accounted for in the overall efficiency of effort, nourishment became celebration. it was integrated in the calendar of events through which authority was acknowledged: sabbath, religious holidays, and political celebrations were motives for a better, or at least different, menu. other days were meant to raise the awareness of self-denial (fish on friday, for instance). the cook did not necessarily become a literate person, but he or she was a product of the literate environment of practical experiences of pre-industrial and industrial societies. the tools and the culture of spices, ingredients, matching food and dishes, of expressing social status in the dinnerware set out, and the meal, i.e., the structure of the entire statement which a meal constitutes were all subjected to literacy. labor division made the cook necessary, while simultaneously generating an industrial culture of food. in the equation of the labor market in industrial society, with literacy as its underlying structure, eating equals maintenance of productive and reproductive power. it also means the reproduction of needs at an increasing scale, as well as their change from needs to desires triggering the expansion of industrial production. in the expectations associated with food there is more than only the voice of hunger. our system of values, as it was articulated in the literate use of language, is expressed in our hunger, and in our particular ways to satisfy it. based on this observation, we acknowledge that all the forces at work in structuring democratic social relations also affect the socialization of our nourishment. uniform quality, and access to this common denominator quality, are introduced in the market, and with them the possibility of stating and maintaining health standards. within the boundaries of the civilization of literacy and its associated hygiene and health standards, there is little left that can be identified with the country home that cannot be industrialized and made uniformly available. beyond these boundaries starts a new reality of expectations, of transcended needs, and of technological means to satisfy them within standards of quality that reinforce the notion of democracy. the identity of food it is the act of mixing ingredients, boiling or stir-frying them, and the preparation of everything, the testing of different proportions, of new ingredients, of new combinations that results in the food we care for so much. the awareness of the entire process during which humans distanced themselves from nature is reduced in our understanding to some simple facts: instead of devouring the hunted animal, humans cooked it, preserved some parts for other days, learned how to combine various sources of nutrition (animal and plant), noticed what was good for the body and the mind. what is generally not accounted for is the fact that the break from the direct source of food to the experience of preparing is simultaneous with the emergence and establishment of language. consequent changes are the use of methods for preserving, the continuous expansion of the food repertory (sources of nourishment), the development of better artifacts for increasing the efficiency of production and preparation of foods, and industrial processing. these changes parallel differentiations in the status of language-based practical experiences: the appearance of writing, the emergence of education, progress in crafts, the pragmatic of industrial society. with the experience of literacy, human awareness of food experienced as a necessity, and as an expression of human personality and identity, increases. claude lévi-strauss, among others, forcefully dealt with this subject. the basic idea-of human dimensions expressed in nourishment-becomes more significant today. none of the many writers infatuated with the subject have noticed that once the limits of literacy, as limits of the pragmatics that made it necessary, are reached, we transcend the age of mcdonalds, of synthetic nutritional substances, and of an infinity of prefabricated foods. this is also the age of endless variations and combinations. the human personality and identity are more difficult to characterize. it is expressed in our nourishment, as well as in how we dress-choosing from an infinity of available cloths-our sexual behavior- free to experiment in ever-expanding possibilities: patterns of family life, education, art, and communication. the infinity of choices available in the civilization of illiteracy eradicates any center, and to some extent undermines commonalty, even at the level of the species. in this civilization, the investment in self is less community-related and more an act of individual choice. these choices are embodied in precise, customized diets based on individual requirements as defined by dietitians. computer programs control personalized recipes and the production of any meal or menu. the balance of time and energy has changed totally. experiences of work, free time, and fitness mix. the clear borderline between them is progressively blurred. it is not clear whether one burns more calories today in jogging than in working, but it is clear that discipline, in particular that of self-denial, is replaced by unpredictable self-indulgence. consequently, to maintain the body's integrity, individual diet and exercise programs are generated, given a new focus through the transition from the economy of scarcity to that of consumption. illiterate subjects accept that the market decide for them what and when and how to eat, as well as what to wear, with whom to pair, and how to feel. the appearance is that of self-determination. independence and responsibility are not instant-mix experiences. whether embodied in fast food chains, in microwave nourishment, in the television cooking shows, there is an illusion of self-determination, continuously reinforced in the seductive reality of a segmented world of competing partial literacies. the appearance is that one can choose from many literacies, instead of being forced into one. the fact is that we are chosen in virtue of having our identity constituted and confirmed within the pragmatic context. awareness of and interaction with nature, already affected in the previous age of industrial processing of basic foods, are further eroded. the immediate environment and the sources of nutrition it provides are assimilated in the picture of seasonless and context-free shelves at the supermarket. space (where does the food come from?) and time (to which season does it correspond?) distinctions, accounted for so precisely in literacy, dissolve in a generic continuum. one does not need to be rich to have access to what used to be the food of those who could afford it. one does not need to be from a certain part of the world to enjoy what used to be the exotic quality of food. time and space shrink for the traveler or tv viewer, as they shrink for the supermarket patron. they shrink even more for the increasing number of people shopping through the world wide web, according to formulas custom designed for them. with brand recognition, brands become more important than the food. the rhythms of nature and the rhythm of work and life are pulled further apart by the mediating mechanisms of marketing. the natural identity of food vanishes in the subsequent practical experience of artificial reality. there is little that distinguishes between a menu designed for the team of the space shuttle, for the military personnel in combat far from home, and the energy calculations for a machine. a little artificial taste of turkey for thanksgiving, or the cleverly simulated smell of apple pie, makes the difference. the language of expectations beasts of habit, people expect some reminders of taste and texture even when they know that what they eat or drink is the result of a formula, not of natural processes. this is why the almost fat-free hamburger, devised in laboratories for people in need of nourishment adapted to new conditions of life and work, will succeed or fail not on the basis of calories, but on the simulation of the taste of the real thing. this is how the new coke failed. non-alcoholic beer and wine, fat- and sugar-free ice cream, low cholesterol egg, vegetable ham, and all substitutes for milk, butter, and cream, to list a few, are in the same situation. in the fast lane of the civilization of illiteracy, we expect fast food: hamburgers, fish, chicken, pizza, and chinese, indian, mexican, thai, and other foods. the barriers of time and space are overcome through pre-processing, microwave ovens, and genetic engineering. but we do not necessarily accept the industrial model of mass production, reminiscent of literacy characteristics quite different from those of home cooking. we cannot afford those long cooking cycles, consuming energy and especially time, that resulted in what some remember as the kitchen harmony of smell and taste, as well as in waste and dubious nutritional value, one should add. a mcdonalds hamburger is close to the science fiction image of a world consuming only the energy source necessary for functioning. but the outlet reminds one of machines. it is still a manned operation, with live operators, geared to offer a uniform industrial quality. however, the literate structure gives way to more effective functioning. at intervals defined by a program continuously tracking consumption, the restaurant is stocked with the pre-processed items on the menu. none of the cooks needs to know how to write or read; food preparation is on-line, in real time. and if the requirements of the pragmatics of the civilization of illiteracy overcome the current industrial model, the new mcdonalds will be able to meet individual expectations no less restricted than those of the internet pizza providers. if this does not happen, mcdonalds and its many imitators in the world will disappear, just as many of the mass production food manufacturers have already disappeared. the mediating nature of the processes involved in nourishment is revealing. between the natural and artificial sources of protein, fats, sugar, and other groups recommended for a balanced meal and the person eating them with the expectation of looking, feeling, and performing better, of living longer and healthier, there are many layers of processing, controlling, and measuring. many formulas for preparation follow each other, or are applied in parallel cycles. after we made machines that resemble humans, we started treating ourselves as machines. the digital engine stands for the brain, pump for the heart, circuits for the nervous system. they are all subjected to maintenance cycles, clean sources of energy, self-cleaning mechanisms, diagnostic routines. the end product of food production-a customized pizza, taco, egg roll, hamburger, gefilte fish-resembles the "real thing," which is produced at the lowest possible cost in a market in which literate food is a matter of the past, a subject of reminiscence. the new dynamics of change and the expectation of adaptability and permanence associated with the nourishment of the civilization of literacy collide at all levels involved in our need to eat and drink. what results from this conflict are the beautiful down-sized kitchens dominated by the microwave oven, the new cookware adapted to the fast food and efficient nourishment, the cooking instructions downloaded from the digital network into the kitchen. the interconnectedness of the world takes rather subtle aspects when it comes to food. microwave ovens can perfectly be seen as peripheral devices connected to the smart kitchens of the post-industrial age, all set to feed us once we push the dials that will translate a desire, along with our health profile, into a code number. three-quarters of all american households (barbie's included) use a microwave oven. and many of them are bound to become an address on the internet, as other appliances already are. the conflict between literate and illiterate nourishment is also documented by the manner in which people write, draw, film, televise, and express themselves about cooking and related matters. this addresses the communication aspects of the practical experience of what and how we eat. the people who could go to their back yard for fresh onions or cabbage, get meat from animals they hunted or tended, or milk their own cow or goat, belong to a pragmatic framework different from that of people who buy produce, meat, cheese, and canned and frozen food in a small store or a supermarket. to communicate experiences that vanished because of their low efficiency is an exercise in history or fiction. to communicate current experiences in nourishment means to acknowledge mediation, distribution of tasks, networking, and open-endedness as they apply to communication and the way we feed ourselves or are fed by others. it also means to acknowledge a different quality. once upon a time, writing on food and dining was part of literature. food authorities have been celebrated as writers. but with the advent of nourishment strategies, literate writing gave way to a prose of recipes almost as idiosyncratic as recipes for the mass production of soap, or cookbooks for programming. some gourmets complained. food experts suggested that precision was as good for cooking as temperature gauges. the understanding of how close the act of cooking is to writing about it, or, in our days to the tele-reality of the kitchen, or to the new interactive gadgets loaded with recipes for the virtual reality cooking game, is often missing. when conditions for exercising fantasy in the kitchen are no longer available, fantasy deserts the food pages and moves into the scripts of the national gourmet video programs and computer games-or on web sites. moreover, when predetermined formulas for bouillons, salad dressings, cakes, and puddings replace the art of selecting and preparing, the writing disappears behind the information added according to regulation, as vitamins are added to milk and cereals. a super-cook defines what is appropriate, and the efficient formula turns our kitchens into private processing plants ensuring the most efficient result. what is gained is the possibility to assemble meals in combinations of nutritional modules and to integrate elements from all over the world without the risk of more than a new experience for our taste buds. from the industrial age, we inherited processing techniques guaranteeing uniformity of flavor and standards of hygiene. the price we pay for this is the pleasure, the adventure, the unique experience. food writing is based on the assumptions of uniformity. in contrast, cooking shows started exploring the worlds of technological progress, in which you don't cook because you are hungry or need to feed your family. you do it for competitive reasons, in order to achieve recognition for mastering new utensils and learning the names of new ingredients. in the post-industrial, the challenge is to break into the territory of innovation and ascertain practical experiences of cooking, presentation, and eating, freed from literate constraints. coping with the right to affluence pragmatic frameworks are not chosen, like food from a menu or toppings from a list. practical experiences of human self-constitution within a pragmatic framework are the concrete embodiments of belonging to such a pragmatics. a new pragmatic framework negates the previous one, but does not eliminate it. although these points were made in earlier chapters, there is a specific reason for dealing with them again here. as opposed to other experiences, nourishment is bound to involve more elements of continuity than science or the military. as we have already seen, literacy-based forms of preparing and eating food exist parallel to illiterate nourishment. this is the reason why some peculiar forms of social redistribution of food need to be discussed. from self-nourishment to being fed humanized eating and drinking come with moral values attached to them, foremost the rule of sharing. pragmatic rules regarding cleanliness, waste, and variation in diet are also part of the experience of nourishment. these associated elements- values, expectations, rules-are rarely perceived as constituting an extension of the practical experience through which humanity distinguishes itself from sheer naturalness. literacy appropriates the rules and expectations that acknowledge and support ideals and values. once expressed in the literate text, however, they appear to be extraneous to the process. changes in the condition of religion, civic education, family, and the legal code, as well as progress in biology, chemistry, and genetics, create the impression and expectation that we can attach to food whatever best suits the situation morally or practically. the self-control and self-denial of previous pragmatic contexts are abandoned for instant gratification. in the competitive context of the new pragmatics that renders literacy useless, the sense of a right to affluence developed. parallel to this, institutions, founded on literacy-based experiences, were set up to control equity and distribution. against the background of high efficiency that the new pragmatics made possible, competition is replaced by controlled distribution, and the experience of self-nourishment is replaced by that of being fed. absorbed by tax-supported social programs, the poor, as well as others who chose giving up responsibility for themselves, are freed from projecting their biological and cultural identity in the practical experience of taking care of their own needs. thus part of the morality of eating and drinking is socialized, in the same manner that literacy is socialized. at the same time, people's illiteracy expands in the sphere of nourishment. today, there are more people than ever who could not take care of themselves even if all the food in the world and all the appliances we know of were brought into their homes. dependencies resulting from the new status of high efficiency and distribution of tasks free the human being in relative terms, while creating dependencies and expectations. the problem is generally recognized in all advanced countries. but the answer cannot be so-called welfare reforms that result only in cutting benefits and tightening requirements. such reforms are driven by short-sightedness and political opportunism. a different perspective is necessary, one that addresses motivation and the means for pursuing individual self-constitution as something other than the beneficiary of an inefficient system. the pragmatics that overrides the need for literacy is based on individual empowerment. as necessary as soup kitchens are under conditions of centralism and hierarchy, the dissemination of knowledge and skills that individuals need in order to be able to provide for themselves is much more important. run and feed the hungry "sponsorship for a charitable track event. funds for third world countries threatened by starvation sought. register support through your donations." and on a nice sunny weekend, many kind-hearted individuals will run miles around a city or swim laps in a pool in order to raise funds for organizations such as care, oxfam, action hunger, or feed the world. hunger in this world of plenty, even in the usa and other prosperous countries, derives from the same dynamics that results in the civilization of illiteracy. the scale of humankind requires levels of efficiency for which practical experiences of survival based on limited resources are ill suited. entire populations are subjected to hunger and disease due to social and economic inequities, to weather conditions or topological changes, or to political upheaval in the area where they live. short of addressing inequities, aid usually alleviates extreme situations. but it establishes dependencies instead of encouraging the best response to the situation through new agricultural practices, where applicable, or alternative modes of producing food. seduced by our life of plenty and by the dynamics of change, we could end up ignoring starving and diseased populations, or we could try to understand our part in the equation. living in an integrated world and partaking in the pragmatics of a global economy, people become prisoners of the here and now, discarding the very disconcerting reality of millions living in misery. but it is exactly the pragmatic framework leading to the civilization of illiteracy that also leads to the enormous disparities in today's world. many forces are at work, and the danger of falling prey to the slogans of failed ideology, while trying to understand misery and hunger in today's world, cannot be overestimated. starvation in africa, south america, in some east european countries, and in parts of asia needs to be questioned in light of the abundance of food in japan, west europe, and north america. both extremes correspond to changes in human self-constitution under expectations of efficiency critical to the current scale of humankind. if human activity had not changed and broadened its base of resources, the entire world would be subject to what ethiopians, sudanese, somalis, bangladeshis, and many others are facing. extreme climatic conditions, as well as decreasing fertility of the land due usually to bad farming practices, can be overcome by new farming methods, progress in agricultural technology, biogenetics, and chemistry. spectacular changes have come about in what is considered the most traditional practice through which humans constitute their identity. the change affected ways of working, family relations, use of local resources, social and political life, and even population growth. it resulted in a new set of dependencies among communities that had afforded autarchic modes of existence for thousands of years. the environment, too, has been affected probably as much by scientific and technological progress as by the new farming methods that take full advantage of new fertilizers, insecticides, and genetic engineering of new plants and animals. motivated by literacy-based ideals, some countries took it upon themselves to see that people in less developed lands be redeemed through benefits they did not expect and for which they were not prepared. at the global levels of humankind, when the necessity of literacy declines, dependencies characteristic of literacy-based interactions collide with forces of integration and competition. what results is a painful compromise. hunger is acknowledged and tended to by enormous bureaucracies: churches, charities, international aid organizations, and institutions more concerned with themselves than with the task at hand. they maintain dependencies that originated within the pragmatics of the civilization of literacy. the activities they carry out are inherently inefficient. where the new dynamics is one of differentiation and segmentation, the main characteristics of these experiences are those of literacy: establishment of a universal model, the attempt to reach homogeneity, tireless effort to disseminate modes of existence and work of a sequential, analytic, rationalistic, and deterministic nature. consequently, where nourishment from the excess attained elsewhere is dispensed, a way of life alien to those in need is projected upon them. aid, even to the extent that it is necessary, re-shapes biology, the environment, the connection among people, and each individual. diseases never before experienced, behavioral and mental changes, and new reliances are generated, even in the name of the best intentions. in some areas affected by starvation, tribal conflicts, religious intolerance, and moral turpitude add to natural conditions not propitious to life. these man-made conditions cannot and should not veil the fact that human creativity and inventiveness are prevented from unfolding, replaced by ready-made solutions, instead of being stimulated. empowerment means to facilitate developments that maintain distinctions and result from differences, instead of uniformity. would all the populations facing hunger and disease actually jump from the illiteracy of the past-a result of no school system or limited access to education, as well as of a pragmatics that did not lead to literacy-to the pragmatically determined illiteracy of the future? the pragmatic framework of our new age corresponds to the need to acknowledge differences and derive from heterogeneity new sources of creativity. each ton of wheat or corn airlifted to save mothers and children is part of the missionary praxis commenced long ago when religious organizations wanted to save the soul of the so-called savage. the answer to hunger and disease cannot be only charity, but the effort to expand networks of reciprocally significant work. the only meaningful pragmatics derives from practical experiences that acknowledge differences instead of trying to erase them. access to resources for more effective activities is fundamentally different from access to surplus or to bureaucratic mechanisms for redistribution. where literacy never became a reality, no organization should take it upon itself to impose it as the key to survival and well being. our literacy-based medicine, nourishment, social life, and especially values are not the panacea for the world, no matter how proud we are of some, and how blind to their limitations. human beings have sufficient means today to afford tending to differences instead of doing away with them. in this process, we might learn about that part of nourishment that was rationalized away in the process of reaching higher levels of efficiency. and we might find new resources in other environments and in the peculiar self-constitution of peoples we consider deprived-resources that we could integrate into our pragmatics. no truffles (yet) in the coop our civilization of illiterate nourishment is based on networks and distributed assignments. the change from self-reliance to affluence corresponds, first and foremost, to the change of the pragmatic context within which the human condition is defined. we project a physical reality-our body-that has changed over time due to modifications in our environment, and the transition from practical experiences of survival to the experience of abundance. the room for invention and spontaneity expands the more we discover and apply rules that guarantee efficiency or limit those preventing it. there might be several dozens of sauces one can select from, and no fewer cereals for breakfast, many types of bread, meat, fish, and very many preprocessed menus. it would probably be an exaggeration to say that all taste alike. but it would not necessarily be false to ascertain that behind diversity there are a limited number of changing formulas, some better adapted to succeed in the marketplace than others, and some better packaged than others. yes, people are nostalgic. more precisely, people are subjected to the nostalgia- triggering stimuli of mass media: the attraction of the homemade, homestyle, mom's secret recipe. this is not because the majority of us know what these icons of the past are, but rather because we associate them with what is no longer possible: reassurance, calm, tradition, protection, permanence, care. we also hear the voices of those who demystify the literate cooking of yesteryear: women spent their lifetime slaving in their kitchens. they did so, the argument goes, to satisfy males, only too happy to be taken care of. both voices, those idealizing and those demystifying the past, should be heard: we enslaved part of nature and took it upon ourselves to annihilate animals or, worse, change their genetic structure. in order to satisfy our appetites, we sacrificed the environment. and, giving in to gluttony, we effectively changed our genetic constitution. the truth, if there is any above and beyond the cultural and economic conditions of cooking, is that transitions from one scale of humankind to another subjected practical experiences of self-constitution to fundamental modifications. trying to understand some of the patterns of life and work, as well as patterns of access to food or of preparing it, requires that we understand when and why such changes take place. language stored not only recipes, but also expectations that became part of our nourishment. the culture of food preparation and serving, the art of discovering new recipes and enjoying what we eat and drink, is more than language can convey. truffles, the food of kings and nobles, and more recently of those who can afford them, bear a whole history, obviously expressed in language. whether seen as the spit of witches, a more or less magic aphrodisiac, or a miraculous life-prolonging food, truffles gain in status because our experience, reflected in the language pertinent to cooking, led us to regard them from a perspective different from those who first discovered, by accident, their nutritive value. it is in the tradition of orality that fathers whispered to their sons the secret of places where truffles could be found. practical experiences involving writing, and later literacy, raised the degree of expectancy associated with their consumption. they affected the shift regarding the eating of truffles from the sphere of the natural (the pigs that used to find them, and liked them probably as much as the gourmets, had to be replaced by specially trained dogs) to the realm of the cultural, where the interests of human beings prevail over anything else. through language processes paralleled by the semiosis of high gastronomy, truffles enter the market as sign-of a discriminating palate, of snobbery, or of actually knowing why truffles are good. language and food interact. this interaction involves other sign systems, too: images, sounds, movements, texture, odor, taste. through the influence of language and these other sign systems, the preparation of food and the appropriate drinks becomes an art. in the age of illiteracy, the languages of genetics, biology, and medicine make us aware of what it takes to avoid malnutrition, what it takes to maintain health and prolong one's life. literacy was reinforced in the convention of how people eat, what, when, and how satisfaction or disappointment was expressed. in our new nutritional behavior and in our new values, literacy plays a marginal role (including interaction at the dining table). the artificial truffle is free of the mystique of origin, of the method for finding truffles, of secret formulas (except the trade secret). it is one item among many, cheap, illusory, and broadly available, as democratic as artificial caviar or, as rousseau would have put it, government by representation. identical in so many ways, the cafeterias that extend an industrial model in a post-industrial context feed millions of people based on a formula of standardization. hierarchies are wiped away. this is no place for truffles. one gets his tray and follows those who arrived before. there is no predetermined sequence. all that remains is the act of selection and the execution of the transaction-an exercise in assemblage not far removed from composing your own pizza on a computer monitor. when the language of available nourishment is standardized to the extent that it is in these feeding environments-elegant coops stocked with shining metal coffee, tea, and soda dispensers, refrigerated containers of sandwiches, cake, fruit-the language of expectations will not be much richer. the increased efficiency made possible this way accounts for the wide acceptance of this mediocre, illiterate mode of nourishing ourselves. we are what we eat if we were to analyze the language associated with what, how, when, where, and why we eat, we would easily notice that this language is tightly connected to the language of our identification. we are what, how, why, when, and where we eat. this identification changed when agriculture started and families of languages ascertained themselves. it changed again when the pragmatic framework required writing, and so on until the identity of the literate person and the post-literate emerged from practical experiences characteristic of a new scale of human experiences. today we are, for quite a broad range of our social life, an identification number of a sort, an address, and other information in a database (income, investment, wealth, debt history) that translates into what marketing models define as our individual expectations. information brokers trade us whenever someone is interested in what we can do for him or her. powerful networks of information processing can be used to precisely map each person to the shelf surface available in stores, to the menus of restaurants we visit on various occasions, and to the internet sites of our journeys in cyberspace. our indexical signs serve as indicators for various forms of filtering calories (how many do we really need?), fats (saturated or not), proteins, sugars, even the aesthetics of food presentation, in order to exactly match individual needs and desires. scary or not, one can even imagine how we will get precisely what best suits our biological system, influenced by the intensity of the tennis game (virtual) we just finished, the tv program we watched for the last seconds, or the work we are involved in. to make this happen is a task not so much different from receiving our customized newspaper or only the information we want through pointscape, saving our monitors from excessive heat and saving us time from useless searches. in the pragmatic framework where illiteracy replaces literacy, eating and drinking are freed from the deterministic chain of survival and reproduction. they are made part of a more encompassing practical experience. each time we take a bite from a hot dog or sandwich, each time we enjoy ice cream, drink wine or beer or soda, take vitamins or add fiber to our diet, we participate in two processes: the first, of revising expectations, turning what used to be a necessity into luxury; the second, of continuous expansion of the global market present through what we eat and drink. many transactions are embodied in our daily breakfast, business lunch, or tv dinner. with each bite and gulp (as with each other product consumed), we are incorporated into the dynamics of expanding the market. the so-called florida orange juice contains frozen concentrate from brazil. the fine italian veal microwave dinner contains meat from romania. the wildflower honey "made in germany" is from hungarian or polish beehives. bread, butter, cheese, cold cuts, jams, and pasta could be marked with the flag of the united nations if all the people involved in producing them were to be acknowledged. meat, poultry, fruits, and vegetables, not unlike everything else traded in the global market, make for an integrated world in which the most efficient survives in the competition for pleasing if not our taste, at least our propensity to buy. the efficiency reached in the pragmatic framework of illiteracy allows people to maintain, within the plurality of languages, a plurality of dietary experiences, some probably as exotic as the literacy of ancient greek, sanskrit, aramaic, or cuneiform writing. even the recipes of the roman empire can be enjoyed in exclusive settings (as in saint-bernard-de-comminges in the pyrénées) or as haute, ready-made cuisine (the comptesse du barry food company offers wild boar in spicy sauce, stuffed duck in ginger, and sea trout with wild leeks). the japanese have their sushi prepared from resuscitated fish flown, in a state of anabiosis (organic rhythm slowed through refrigeration), from wherever the beloved delicacies are still available. the multiplicity of food-related experiences in our time is representative of segmentation and heterogeneity in the civilization of illiteracy. it is also an expression of the subtle interdependencies of the many aspects of human self-constitution. the democracy of nourishment and the mediocrity of food are not necessarily a curse. neither are the extravagant performances of artist-cooks that fetch a price equivalent to the average annual salary of a generic citizen of this integrated world. difference makes a difference. feminism, multiculturalism, political activism (from right to left)-all use arguments related to how and what we eat, as part of the broader how and why we live, to advance their causes. if nothing else, the civilization of illiteracy makes possible choices, including those pertinent to nourishment, for which we are ill prepared. the real challenge is still ahead of us. and no one knows how it tastes. the professional winner the connections between sports and literacy are far from obvious. watching sports events, as a spectator in the stadium, or in front of the television, does not require the literacy we associate with libraries, reading and writing, and school education. one does not need to read in order to see who is fastest, strongest, or jumps the farthest or highest, or throws or catches the best. and one does not really need to be literate in order to become a champion or to make it into a first-league team. running, jumping, pushing, throwing, catching, and kicking are part of our physical repertory, related to our day-to-day existence, easy to associate with ways through which survival took place when scavenging, hunting, fishing, and foraging were the fundamental ways for primitive beings to feed themselves and to avoid being killed. even the association of sports and with mytho-magical ceremonies implying physical performance is easy to explain without reference to language, oral or written. exceptional physical characteristics were, and still are in some parts of the world, celebrated as expressions of forces beyond immediate control and understanding. gods were worshipped through exceptional physical feats performed by people worshipping them. in archaic cultures, athletes could even be sacrificed on the altar of gratitude, where the best were destined to please the gods. the initial phases of what was eventually called sport correspond to establishing those sign systems (gestures, sounds, shapes) which, in anticipation of language, made language possible and necessary. this was a phase of syncretism, during which the physical projection of the human being dominated the intellect. running after an animal or from one, and running for play are different forms of human experience corresponding to different pragmatic contexts. they have different motivations and different outcomes. probably , years separate these two experiences in time. in order to reach the level of generality and abstraction that a competition embodies, the human being had to undergo experiences of self-constitution within which the domination of physical over intellectual characteristics changed drastically. the qualifier sport-a word which seems to have ascended within the english language of the th century-probably came about in the framework of the division between secular and non-secular forms of human praxis. both maintenance and improvement of the human biological endowment and mytho-magical practice were based on awareness of the role the body plays and the recognition of the practical need to disseminate this awareness. efficiency was the governing aspect, not recognized as such, not conceptualized, but acknowledged in the cult of the body and the attempt to make it part of the shared culture. the contest (for which the greeks used the words athlos) and the prize (athlon, which eventually led to the word athlete) embody generalizations of those practical situations through which survival and well-being came about. as a complex experience, sports involves rational and irrational components. this is why approaching the relation between literacy and sports, one has to account for both dimensions. sports is approached here from the perspective of the changes through which it became what it is today: a well defined form of relaxation, but probably more a competitive type of work acknowledged in the market like any other product of human practice. the immediate connection between physical fitness and the outcome of practical experiences dominated by physical aspects was established within very limited, but strongly patterned, activity. it soon became the measure of survival success, and thus the rationality shared by the community experiencing the survival of the fittest is reflected in competition. athletes competed in order to please gods; to conjure fertility, rain, or the extension of life; or to expel demons. the process is documented in a variety of petroglyphs (cave paintings, engravings on stone) and in carvings or etchings on animal horn and metal, as well as in the first written testimony, in which the role of the stronger, the faster, the more agile was evinced. documents from all known cultures, regardless of their geographic coordinates, have in common the emphasis on the physical as it acquired a symbolic status. to understand how some biological characteristics improved chances of survival means to understand the rationality of the body. its embodiment in the culture of physical awareness facilitated practical experiences of human self-constitution that would result in sports professions. the irrational element has to do with the fact that although all males and all females are structurally the same, some individuals seem better endowed physically. as with many other aspects of the practical experience through which each person acknowledges his or her identity, what could not be clarified was placed in a domain of explanations where the rationality is lost. this is why expectations of rain, of longer life, of chasing away evil forces are associated with sports. the cult of the body, in particular of body parts, resulted from experiences leading to awareness of oneself. when the body, or parts of it, became a goal in itself, the rationality of physical fitness for survival is contradicted by the irrationality of fitness for reasons other than individual and communal well-being. rituals, myths, religion, and politics appropriated the irrational component of physical activities. in ancient communities, in the context of a limited understanding of physical phenomena, attempts were made to infer from the immediate well-being of the body of competing athletes to the future well-being of the entire community. when it comes to physical fitness in the context of survival of the fittest, can we suppose that a lone human being stands out, something like the lonely animals on their own until the time for pairing comes, competing with others, killing and being killed? probably not. scale defines the species as one that ascertains its self-constitution in cooperative efforts, no matter how primitive. up to a certain scale, the only competition was for survival. it translated into food and offspring. only after the agricultural phase, which corresponds to a level of efficiency of more food than immediately necessary, the element of competition shifts from survival to ascertainment. competition and expectations of performance correspond to the period of incipient writing, and were progressively acknowledged as part of the dynamics of communal life. every other change in the role of humankind brought with it expectations of physical fitness corresponding to expected levels of efficiency. sports and self-constitution gymnastics is an expression of the cult of the body parallel to that of art. in order to realize its dimensions, it needs to be seen from this broader perspective, not as a random set of exercises. it has a physical and a metaphysical dimension, the latter related to the obsession with ideal proportions that eventually were expressed in philosophic terms. there are plenty of explanations to be considered for both the origin of the practical experience of sports and the forms this experience took over centuries. alluding to some explanations, though not in order to endorse them, will help to show how diversity of sports experiences resulted in diversity of interpretations. the basic assumption of this entire book, human self-constitution in practical experiences, translates into the statement that sports is not a reflective but a constitutive experience. indeed, through running, jumping, wrestling, or otherwise participating in some game, human beings project themselves according to physical characteristics and mental coordination that facilitate physical performance in the reality of their existence. this projection is a direct way of identifying oneself and thus of becoming part of an interacting group of people. the majority of researchers studying the origins of sports identify these in the experience of survival, thus placing them in the darwinian evolutionist frame. when survival skills, maintenance, and reproduction skills become distinct and relatively autonomous, they follow recurrent patterns on whose basis social practice takes place and new ideas are formulated. from the perspective of today's jogger, running might seem an individual experience, and to a great extent it is. but fundamentally, running as a practical experience takes place among people sharing the notion of physical exercise and attaching to it social, cultural, economic, and medical meaning. we create ourselves not only when we write poetry, tend land, or manufacture machines, but also when we are involved in athletic experiences. there is in sports, as there is in any other form of practical experience, a natural, a cultural (what we learn from others and create with others), and a social (what is known as communication) dimension. the sports experience appears to us as the result of the coordination of all these elements. for someone attending a sports event, this coordination can become an object of description: this much is due to training, this much to natural attributes, and this much to social implications (pride, patriotism). this is why sports events sometimes appear to the spectator as having a predetermined meaning, not one resulting from the dynamics of the interaction characteristic of this human experience. in the mytho-magical stage of human dynamics, in which the ability of the body was celebrated, the meaning seemed to drive the entire event more than it occurs today in a game of hockey or football. due to the syncretic nature of such events, rituals addressed existence in its perceived totality. the specialized nature of games such as hockey or football leads these to address only one aspect of existence-the experience of the particular sport. a game can degenerate from being a competition structured by rules to a confrontation of nerves, violence, or national pride, or into sheer exhibitionism, disconnected from the drive for victory. although the physical basis for the practical experience of sports is the same- human beings as they evolved in time-in different cultures, different recurrent patterns and different meanings attached to them can be noticed. this statement does not align itself with explanations of sports given in freudian tradition, marxist theory, or in huizinga's model of the human being as playful man (homo ludens). it takes into consideration the contextual nature of any form of human practice and looks at sports, as it does at any human experience, from the perspective of a constitutional, not representational, act; in short, from the pragmatic perspective. when japanese players kick a ball in the game called kemari, the recurrent pattern of interaction is not the familiar football or soccer game, although each player constitutes his identity in the performance. when the zen archer tenses his bow, the pattern, associated with the search for unity with the universe, is quite different from the pattern of archery in africa or of the archery competition at the olympic games of the past. the ball games of the mayans relied on a mythology which was itself a projection of the human being in quest of explaining and finding an answer to what distinguishes the sun from the moon and how their influence affects patterns of human practice. it is probably easier to look at the recurrent patterns of interaction of more recent sports experiences not rooted in the symbolism of the ancient, such as baseball, aquatic dancing, or ice skating, to understand what aspect of the human being is projected and what kind of experience results for the participants (athletes, sports fans, public, media). the surprising reality is the diversity. people never exhaust their imagination in devising new and newer forms of competition involving their physical aptitude. no less surprising is the pursuit of a standard experience, modeled in rules for the competition. some are intrinsic to the effort (the rules of the game), others to the appearance (expected clothing, for instance). parallel to the standard experience, there is also a deviant practice of sports (nonstandard), in forms of individual rules, ad hoc conventions, private competition. the social level of sports and the private level are loosely connected. to become a professional means, among other things, to accept the rules as they apply in the standard experience, within organizations or acknowledged competition. the language professional is pretty much in a similar situation. literacy serves as the medium for encoding the rules. language and physical performance but the subject here is not the similarity between sports and language, butrather their interrelation. the obvious entry point is to notice that we use language to describe the practical experience of sport and to assign meaning to it. as obvious as this is, it is also misleading in the sense that it suggests that sports would not be possible without language-an idea implicit in the ideal of literacy. in ages when written language emerged, sporting events become part of social life. visual representation (such as petroglyphs and the later hieroglyphics), while not exactly a statement about the awareness of exercise, contain enough elements to confirm that not only immediate, purposeful physical activity (running after a wild animal, for instance) and the exercise and maintenance of the physical were, at least indirectly, acknowledged. testimony to the effect that at a certain moment in time the community started providing for the physically talented-in the tombs of the egyptian pharaoh beni hasan the whole gamut of wrestling is documented in detail-helps us understand that labor division and increased efficiency are in a relation that goes far beyond cause and effect. the specialization, which probably started at that time, resulted not just from the availability of resources, but also from the willingness to allocate them in ways that make the sports experience possible because a certain necessity was acknowledged. the pattern of kicking a ball in kemari and the pattern of language use in the same culture are not directly connected. nevertheless, the game has a configurational nature: the aim is to maintain the ball in the air for as long as possible. soccer, even football, are sequential: the aim is to score higher than the opposing team. in the first case, the field is marked by four different trees: willow, cherry, pine, and maple. in the second, it is marked by artificial boundaries outside of which the game rules become meaningless. the languages of the cultures in which such games appeared are characterized by different structures that correspond to very different practical experiences. the logic embodied in each language system affects, in turn, the logic of the sports experience. kemari is not only non-predicative and configurational, but also infused by the principle of amé, in which things are seen as deeply interdependent. soccer and football are analytical, games of planning, texts whose final point is the goal or the touchdown. no surprise then, that mentality, as a form of expressing the influence of practical experience in some patterned expectation, plays a role, too. there are many extremely individualistic forms of competition, and others of collective effort. while in today's global market mentality plays a different role than in the past, it still affects sports in its non-standard form. these and other differences are relevant to understanding how different practical experiences constitute different instances of human objectification, sports being one of these. even when the sports instance is disconnected from the experience that made it necessary, it is still affected by all the structural elements that define the pragmatic context. indeed, while there is a permanency to sports-involvement of the human body-there is also a large degree of variation corresponding to successive pragmatic circumstances. sport is also a means of expression. during the action, it externalizes physical capabilities, but also intellectual qualities: self-control, coordination, planning. initially, physical performance complemented rudimentary language. afterwards the two took different paths, without actually ever separating entirely (as the greek olympics fully document). when language reached some of its relative limits, expression through sports substituted for it: not even the highest literate expression could capture the drama of competition, the tragedy of failure, or the sublimity of victory. but more interesting is what language extracted from the experience of sports. language captured characteristics of the sports experience and generalized them. through language, they were submitted, in a new form, to experiences very different from sports: sports for warfare, athletics for instilling a sense of order, competitions as circus for the masses. but primarily, people derived from sports the notion of competitiveness, accepted as a national characteristic, as well as a characteristic of education, of art, of the market. rationalized in language, the notion of competition introduces the experience of comparing, later of measuring, and thus opens the door to the bureaucracy of sports and the institutionalized aspects we today take for granted. greeks cared for the winner. time-keeping devices were applied to sports later, more precisely at the time when keeping records became relevant within the broader pragmatics of documentary ownership and inheritance. while playing does not require language, writing helped in establishing uniform rules that eventually defined games. the institution of playing, represented by organized competitions, is the result of the institution of literacy, and reflects pragmatic expectations pertinent to literacy. in every sports experience, there is a romantic notion of nature and freedom, reminiscent of the experience of hunting, fishing, and foraging. but at the same time, sports experiences testify to changes in the condition of human beings as they relate to the natural environment, their natural condition, social environment, and the artificial world resulting from human practice. target shooting, or, more recently, nintendo-type aiming with laser beams, is at the other end of the gamut. the circumstances of human experience that made literacy necessary affected the status of the sports experience as well. the contest became a product with a particular status; the prize reflects the sign process through which competition is evaluated. allen guttman distinguished several characteristics of modern sports: secularism, equality of opportunity, specialization of roles, rationalization, bureaucratic organization, quantification, and quest for records. what he failed to acknowledge is that such characteristics are not relevant unless considered in connection to the recurrent patterns of sports seen against the background of the general pragmatic framework. once we make such connections, we notice that efficiency is more important than the so-called equality of opportunity, quantification, and bureaucratic organization. the quest for efficiency appropriate to the new scale of humankind is exactly what today affects literacy's degree of necessity. the quest for efficiency in sports becomes evident when we compare the changes from the very sophisticated, indeed obscure, rules governing sports performances in ritualistic cultures (indian, chinese, mayan, apache) with the tendency to simplify these rules and make the sports experience as transparent as possible. when certain african tribes adopted the modern game of soccer, they placed it in the context of their rituals. the entire set of premises on which the game is based, and which pertain to a culture so different from that of the african tribes, was actually dismissed, and premises of a different nature were attached as a frame for the adopted game. consequently, the inyanga (witch-doctor) became responsible for the outcome; the team and supporters had to spend the night before the game together around a campfire; goats were sacrificed. in such instances, the ceremony, not the game, is the recurrent pattern; winning or losing is of secondary importance. once such tribes entered literate civilization, the utilitarian aspect became dominant. if we take european soccer and extend it to the american game of football, we can understand how new patterns are established according to conditions of human practice of a different structural nature. this discussion cannot be limited to the symbolism of the two games, or of any other sport. the attached meaning corresponds to the interpreted practical experience and does not properly substitute for the recurrent patterns which actually constitute the experience as a projection of the humans involved. what is of interest here is that literacy was a powerful instrument for structuring practical experiences, such as sports (among others), in the framework of a dynamics of interaction specific to industrial society. as the cradle of the industrial age, england is also the place where many sports and experiences associated with physical exercise started. but once the dynamics changed, some of the developments that the industrial revolution made necessary became obsolete. an example is national isolation. literacy is an instrument of national distinction. by their nature, sports experiences are, or should be, above and beyond artificial national boundaries. still, as past experiences show (the olympics in berlin was only the climax) and current experiences confirm (national obsession with medals in more recent olympics), sports in the civilization of literacy, like many other practical experiences, is tainted by nationalism. competition often degenerates into an adversarial relation and conflict. in the physical exercises of ancient greece, china, or india, performance was not measured. the patterns were those of physical harmony, not of comparison; of aesthetics, not of functionality. in england, sports became an institution, and performance entered into the record books. indeed, in england, the history of competitions was written to justify why sports were for the upper, educated classes, and should be kept for amateurs willing to enjoy victory as a reward. some games were invented in the environment of the civilization of literacy and meant to accomplish functions similar to those fulfilled by literacy. they changed as the conditions of the practice of literacy changed, and became more and more an expression of the new civilization of more languages of a limited domain. in the information age, where much of language is substituted by other means of expression, sports are an experience that results primarily in generating data. for someone attracted by the beauty of a tennis game, the speed of a serve is of secondary relevance. but after a while, one realizes that tennis has changed from its literate condition to a condition in which victory means obliteration of the game. a very strong and fast serve transforms the game into a ledger of hits and misses. quite similar is the dynamics of baseball, football, basketball, and hockey, all generators of statistics in which the experts find more enjoyment than from the actual event. the dynamics of changes in the nature and purpose of sports is related to what makes the sports experience today another instance in the process of diversification of languages and the demotion of the necessity of literacy. the illiterate champion the dynamics of the change from the sports experience embodying the ideal of a harmoniously developed human being to that of high performance is basically the same as the dynamics of change behind any other form of human projection. structurally, it consists of the transition from direct forms of interaction with the outside world to more and more mediated interrelations. chasing an animal that will eventually be caught and eaten is a performance directly related to survival. in addition to the physical aspect, there are other elements that intervene in the relation hunter-hunted: how to mask the presence of one's odor from the prey; how to attract game (through noise or lure); how to minimize energy expended to succeed (where to hit the prey, and when). ritual, magic, and superstition were added, but did not always enhance the outcome. running for the maintenance and improvement of physical qualities is immediate, but still less direct in relation to the outcome than in hunting. the activity displays an understanding of connections: what do muscle tone, heartbeat, resilience, and volition have to do with our life and work, with our health? it also testifies to our efforts to preserve a certain sense of time and space (lost in the artificial environments of our homes or workplaces) and projects sheer physical existence. running for pleasure, as we suppose animals do when young and enjoying security (think about puppies!) is different from running with a purpose such as hunting an animal, catching someone (friend or foe), running after a ball, or against a record. running for survival is not a specialized experience; running in a war game implies some specialization; becoming the world champion in field and track is a specialized effort for whose outcome many people work. in the first case, the reason is immediate; in the second, less direct; in the third, mediated in several ways: the notion of running to compete, the distance accepted by all involved (athletes, spectators, organizations), the value attached, the meaning assigned, the means used in training and diet, the running costume. before specialization, which is exclusive commitment to a particular practical experience, socially acknowledged selection took place. not everybody had the physical and mental qualities appropriate to high sports performance. in the background, the market continuously evaluates what becomes, to variable degrees, a marketable product: the champion. in the process, the human being undergoes alienation, sometimes evinced through pain, other times ignored-books never read don't hurt. people tend to remember the festive moments in a champion's life, forgetting what leads to victory: hard work, difficult choices, numerous sacrifices, and the hardship inflicted on the bodies and minds engaged in the effort of extracting the maximum from the athlete. how literate should an athlete be? the question is not different from how literate a worker, farmer, engineer, ballerina, or scientist should be. sports and literacy used to be tightly associated in a given context. the entire collegiate sports world (whose origin in th century britain was already alluded to) embodies this ideal. mens sana in corpore sano-a healthy mind in a healthy body-was understood along the line of the practical experience involving literacy as a rule for achieving high efficiency in sports. some forms of sport are a projection from language and literacy to the physical experience. tennis is one example, and possibly the best known. such forms of sport were designed by literates and disseminated through the channels of literacy. collegiate sports is their collective name. but once the necessity of literacy itself became less stringent, such sports started emancipating themselves from the confinements of language and developed their own languages. when winning became the aim, efficiency in specific sports terms became paramount and started being measured and recorded. literates are not necessarily the most efficient in sports where physical prowess or quick scoring are needed to win: football, basketball, or baseball, as compared to long-distance running, swimming, or even the exotic sport of archery. this statement might seem tainted by stereotype or prejudice to which one falls prey when generalizing from a distorted past practical experience (affected by all kinds of rules, including those of sex and race discrimination). what is discussed here is not the stereotypical illiterate athlete, or the no less stereotypical aristocrat handling latin and his horse with the same elegance, but the environment of sports in general. people involved in the practical experience of sports are sometimes seen as exceptionally endowed physically, and less so intellectually. this does not have to be so; there is really nothing inherent in sports that would result in the intellect-physique dichotomy, one to the detriment of the other. examples of athletes who also achieved a high level of intellectual development can be given: dr. roger bannister, the runner who broke the four-minute mile barrier; william bradley, the former basketball player who became a united states senator; michael reed, once defense lineman who is now a concert pianist; jerry lucas, now a writer; michael lenice, a wide receiver who became a rhodes scholar. they are, nevertheless, the exception, not because one kind of experience is counterproductive to the other, but because the expectations of efficiency make it very difficult for one and the same person to perform at comparable levels as athletes and as intellectuals. specialization in sports, no less than in any human activity, requires a focus of energy and talent. choices, too, come with a price tag. while literacy does not result in higher performance in sports, a limited notion of sports literacy, i.e., control of the language of sports, allows for improved performance. it is relevant to analyze how today's sports experience requires the specialized language and the understanding of what makes higher performance, and thus higher efficiency, possible. once sport is understood as a practical experience of human self- constitution, we can examine the type of knowledge and skill needed to reach the highest efficiency. knowledge of the human body, nutrition, physics, chemistry, biology, and psychology is important. information focused on reaching high performance has been accumulated for each form of physical exercise. as a result of the experience itself, as well as through import of pertinent knowledge from other domains of human activity, expertise becomes more and more focused. in some ways, the commonalty of the experience diminished while the specific aspect increased. for instance, on the basketball court, as we see it in various neighborhoods, playing is the major goal. rules are loosely respected; players exert themselves for the pleasure of the effort. one meets others, establishes friendships, finds a useful way of getting physical exercise. on the professional basketball team, various experts coordinated by a coach make possible an experience of efficiency predictable to a great extent, programmable within limits, original to some measure. the effort to coordinate is facilitated through natural language; but the expectation of efficiency in achieving a goal-winning the game-extends beyond the experience constituted in and communicated through language. games are minutely diagrammed; the adversary's plays are analyzed from videotapes; new tactics are conceived, and new strategies followed. in the end, the language of the game itself becomes the medium for the new game objectives. in the last seconds of a very tight game, each step is calculated, each pass evaluated, each fault (and the corresponding time) pre-programmed. technology mediates and supports sports performance in ways few would imagine when watching a volleyball team in action or a runner reaching the finish line. there are ways, not at all requiring the tools of literacy. to capture recurrent patterns characteristic of high efficiency performance and to emulate or improve them, adapt them to the type of sportsperson prepared for a certain contest, becomes part of the broader experience. indeed, boundaries are often broken, rules are bent, and victories are achieved through means which do not exactly preserve the noble ideal of equal opportunity or of fairness. sports experiences were always at the borderline. a broken rule became the new rule. extraneous elements (mystical, superstitious, medical, technological, psychological) were brought into the effort to maximize sports performance. the entire story of drugs and steroids used to enhance athletic prowess has to be seen from the same perspective of efficiency against the background of generalized illiteracy. the languages of stimuli, strategies, and technology are related, even if some appear less immoral or less dangerous. as drugs become more sophisticated, it is very difficult to assess which new record is the result of pure sports and which of biochemistry. and it is indeed sad to see sportsmen and sportswomen policed in their private functions in order to determine how much effort, how much talent, or how much steroid is embodied in a performance. stories of deception practiced within the former totalitarian states of europe might scare through gruesome detail. people risked their lives for the illusion of victory and the privileges associated with it. but after the ideological level is removed, we face the illiterate attitude of means and methods intended to extract the maximum from the human being, even at the price of destroying the person. whether a state encourages and supports these means, or a free market makes them available, is a question of responsibility in the final analysis. facts remain facts, and as facts they testify to the commercial democracy in which one has access to means that bring victory and reward, just as they bring the desired cars, clothes, houses, alcohol, food, or art collections. among the records broken at the olympic games in atlanta is the number of samples collected for doping control (amounting to almost percent of the number of athletes). american football is possibly the first post-modern game in that it appropriates from the old for use in a new age. comparing american football with sports of different pragmatic frameworks-to tennis, volleyball, or rugby-one can notice the specialization, mediation, new dynamics, and language of the game. there are twenty- two positions and special formations for place kicks, kick-offs, and receiving. there are also support personnel for different functions: owners, managers, coaches, trainers, scouts, doctors, recruiters, and agents. the game is burdened with literacy-based assumptions: it is as totalitarian as any language, although its elementary repertory is quite reduced-running, blocking, tackling, catching, throwing, kicking. rules implicit in the civilization of literacy-all know the language and use it according to its rule, sequentiality, centralism-are observed. the word signal, snap numbers, color code, and play name are part of the semiosis. it is a minimal rule experience, which seems a comedy to someone who never watched it before. the players are dressed in ridiculous gear. they seem actors in a cheap show, and act according to plans shared through private code. as opposed to many games that we can only sketchily retrace to someplace back in history, we know how all this came about in american football. the goal was no longer the game, as it was in its early history as a college sports, but winning. a more efficient game required more efficient football machines, specialized in a limited repertory, present only for the duration of their task. the game acquired a configurational aspect, takes place at many levels, requires distribution of tasks, and relies upon networks of communication for maintaining some sense of integration. its violence, different from the staged buffoonery of wrestling, is in sync with the spirit of belligerence implicit in today's competitive environment: "we teach our boys to spear and gore.... we want them to plant that helmet right under a guy's chin." (woody hayes, legendary coach at ohio state university, better known for its football team than its academic standards). there is physical involvement, injury, steroids, drugs, illicit money-and there are statistics. the spirit of the game is disseminated to other sports and other aspects of life (business, politics). in the case of baseball, the statistics are most important. they attach to each gesture on the field a meaning which otherwise would escape the mind of the viewer. in games of a more continuous flow (soccer, tennis, handball), the attraction is in the particular phase, not in the number of yards gained or the average (hits, home runs, strike-outs). the general dynamics of existence and human interaction in the civilization of illiteracy also marked the dynamics of the practical experience of sports. higher speed, shorter encounters, short action spans-these make the sports event more marketable in the environment of the new civilization. the more precise the experience, the less expressive. almost no one watched the compulsory ice skating exercises at world championships, and so they were canceled, but millions enjoy the dramatics of dancing on ice that is becoming more and more a show watched around the world. the more extensive the effort, the less attractive to spectators. a twenty-five kilometer cross- country competition will never interest as many viewers as a fast, dangerous downhill race. these characteristics are definitive of the civilization of illiteracy. people do not want to learn how to perform at the same level; knowledge is irrelevant. performance is what attracts, and it is the only thing which gains prizes that the winner of the ancient olympics, who was also spoiled, never dreamed of. "winner take all" is the final rule, and the result is that winning, more than competing, has become the goal. the efficiency requirement leads not only to the relative illiteracy of those involved in sports, but also to a practice of discriminatory physical selection. in the usa, for instance, black african-americans dominate football and basketball, which have become national obsessions. if equal opportunity were applied to professional sports as it is to other activities, the competitions would not be so attractive. the irony of this situation is that, in fact, black african-americans are still entertainment providers in the usa. regardless of how profitable professional sports are, the obsession with efficiency effectively consecrates an important segment of the population to entertaining the rest. blacks are also playing in the most advanced major basketball leagues in the world. in what used to be the soviet union, chances were that the winter sports teams would be recruited from the siberian population, where skiing is a way of life. all over europe, soccer teams recruit from spain, italy, africa, and south america. it is easier to attain maximum efficiency through those endowed with qualities required by the new goals of the games instead of creating a broad base of educated athletes. the public, homogenized through the mediating action of television, is subjected to the language of the sports experience and is presented with performance and interpretation at the same time. thus, even the mechanism of assigning meaning is rationalized, taken over by the market mechanism, freed from the constraints of literacy and reason, and rendered to human subjects without requiring that they think about it. blaming changes in sports, or for that matter in literacy, the condition of the family, the fast-food curse, television, increased greed, new technology, or lower levels of education, results in only partial explanations of the new condition of sports. yes, the greatly celebrated champions are illiterate. no matter how good in their political game of finding excuses and alibis, colleges care for the high performances of physically gifted students, recruited only insofar as they add to the marketability of the institution, not to the academic entry requirements. literacy is not a prerequisite for sports performance. it might actually interfere with it. in the world of competitions, sportsmen and sportswomen are either jetting around the globe or traveling from one exhibition game to another, barely able to breathe, never mind to take care of their literacy or their private lives. their language is one of pitiful limitation, always inferior to the energy spent in the effort or externalized in frustration when the rules don't work in their favor. they don't read, they don't write. even their checks are signed by others. the description might be somewhat extreme and sound harsh, and the attitude might seem impertinent, but after all, it is not because sportsmen and sportswomen know shakespeare's sonnets by heart that people watch baseball, nor because they write novels (or even short stories) that the public applauds the ice skating dancers, and even less that they keep diaries, with minimal spelling errors and full sentences, that spectators die to be on the stand of the stadium where the drama of football starts in the fall and ends shortly before another sports takes over the media. sports are marketable work, of high intensities and no literate status. the efficiency of each sport is measured in the attraction it exercises over many people, and thus in the ability of a sport to transmit messages of public interest, insofar as public interest is part of the market process. alienated from the expectation of integration, corresponding to the ideal of the complete human being, sport is as specialized as any other form of human praxis. sports constituted their own domains of competence and performance, and generate expectations of partial sport literacies. that in the process, because they address physical attributes and intellectual functions, sports became a molding machine for the athletes, another nature, should not go without saying or understanding what it takes to succeed. all over the world, where efficiency reached levels corresponding to the new scale of humankind, football, basketball, soccer, and tennis players, swimmers, runners, and gymnasts are created almost from scratch. experts select children, analyze their genetic history and current condition, devise training procedures, and control diet, psychology, and emotional life until the desired performer is ready to compete. gentlemen, place your bets! the investment in sports, as in the stock market, is supposed to return profit. successful sportspeople need not testify to how high their own return is. that this return also means compromised physical or mental integrity is part of the cynical equation that the public enthusiastically validates. when players are traded and contracts are signed, the money they earn, disproportionate as it seems at times, corresponds, almost to the last digit, to the number of people who will watch them, some for the sake and pleasure of the performance, others making money from a team's victory or an athlete's record. in some states and countries, whether betting is legal or prohibited, it is by far the strongest sector of the economy. it takes very interesting forms, however. one is the direct bet: this horse, this player, this team. betting, with its partial literacy involving its own mediating elements that render reading and writing useless, is not a new institution. people were challenged by the odds down through history. but once the structural change that entailed means of networking, task distribution, and almost instant access to any event in the world was in place, the experience of betting totally took over that of competing. all our unfulfilled desires and drives are now embodied by those we choose to represent us, and for whose victory we not only root, but also invest in. there is an ideal stake-the successful player-and a mundane stake-the actual wager. expectation of high figures is an extension of literate expectations. it embodies the naive assumption that cultivated minds and challenged bodies unite in a balanced personality of high integrity. the reason this model failed over and over need not be restated here. but the point needs to be made that the ideal stake and the trivial stake are not independent. this introduces to competition an element of obscurity in the form of motivations not intrinsic to sports. the indirect wager represents this element. the message is the sneaker the biggest indirect bet is made by marketing and advertising. on the never- ending table of olympic records, the most spectacular performances are dollar signs preceding figures into the billions. within the general shift from manufacturing to service economy characteristic of the civilization of illiteracy, sport becomes a form of entertainment. new media, replacing the printed word as the dominant means of communication, makes possible international viewing of competitions as they happen. in the past, we were satisfied with the image of the winner. now we can own the tape of the game and can retrieve each moment of any event. more broadband, and soon we will download the running athlete directly onto our monitors. for a price, of course. people consume sports. they are able to fly to the olympics, wherever the best bid takes them (barcelona, atlanta, or sydney), even able to pay for forty-five minutes or a whole week of shaping up with the very best trainers. facts in the world of sports, as much as in the rest of our activities, are less important than the image. the authority and self-discipline, on which physical education was built, are replaced by the freedom and opportunity to choose from among many sports events, and by an attitude of permissiveness and self-indulgence which many times results in considering the whole world as a sports show. sports are used to further many causes and support many interest groups. on the stage of the events they sponsor, the world's largest companies compete with feminism, equal opportunity, aids, and various disabilities for the attention and dollars of the audience. sponsorship is a highly selective experience. nevertheless, it frequently contradicts the slogans it sets before the public. these are important because the indirect bet on sports takes into consideration the huge market of entertainment, and defines within this market the segments it will address. product endorsements, advertising, and public relations are the media through which marketing places its bets. no less than , brands were traded in atlanta. only to keep track of them was a major task, described officially as "protecting the integrity of the olympic games and the rights of official sponsors," but also "detecting attempts at parasitic marketing." every square inch on the body of a tennis player or a track and field athlete can be rented. and is. the better the manager (not necessarily a player's game), the higher the endorsement contract. the minute detail picked up by the camera allows us to see the name of the maker on the watch, the manufacturer's logo on the socks, a sponsor company's name on the shirts and headgear, the brand of glucose or mineral water, the maker of ice or snow for winter games. it seems that the competition on the court and the competition among those who buy the space available on cyclists' ware, football players' uniforms, skiers, swimmers, runners, and chess players are feeding off one another. when the canon company chose as its prime-time advertising actor a tennis player who did not make it beyond the preliminary games, the bet continued on the waves, on the screens, on the videotapes, and on any other imaginable display. marshall mcluhan plays year after year in the superbowl. the world indeed becomes a village. moreover, the world has almost decided that the outcome is less important than the new commercials, the new thirty-second drama, followed by the numbers telling us all how much more a second of prime time costs, and what benefits it might bring. but the message is actually lost. here mcluhan was still somehow captive to literacy, believing there was a message, as we are used to when writing or reading a text. the message is the sneaker, or whatever will take over, for its own short turn in the glory of consumption, the world. the day the object is acknowledged, between new york and zambia, paris and the tribes in the brazilian rain forests, frankfurt and the starving populations of africa or asia, there will be a trade in the original and its many substitutes, reaching sheer madness. sports entrusted with the marketing image are equalled in their persuasive power only by the entertainment stars, of similar illiterate condition, singing for the world's hungriest only in order to add one more marketing craze to their torment. in these and in other characteristics mentioned, the unnatural aspect of sports takes over their original, natural component. it seems almost as though the sports experience is falling into itself, is imploding, leaving room for the many machines and gadgets we use at home in order to salvage our degenerating bodies. now we still bicycle, ski, climb stairs, and row in the privacy of our rooms, with our eyes glued to the images of the very few who still do the real thing, but for reasons less and less connected with excellence. soon we will swim in the pools and ski on the slopes of virtual reality. some are already timing their performance. little do they know that they are pioneering one of the many olympic games of the future. science and philosophy-more questions than answers words strain, crack and sometimes break, under the burden, under the tension, slip, slide, perish, decay with imprecision, will not stay in place, will not stay still. t.s. elliot, burnt norton in some of the most advanced fields of scientific inquiry, research results are exchanged as soon as they become available. obviously, the sluggish medium of print and the long cycles involved in the review process prior to academic publication do not come into the picture. on web sites dedicated to research, the review process consists of acknowledging, challenging, and furthering breakthrough hypotheses. it is carried out by real peers, not by the geriatric or opportunistic hierarchies that have the publishing process in their firm grip. frequently, research is carried out in and through the communication media. images, data, and simulations are part of the work and part of the shared knowledge, already available in formats that can be inputted for further work or can be technologically tested. of course, there are many issues connected to the new dynamics of science, not the least of which is intellectual property and integrity. a totally new experience in research and knowledge dissemination is taking place. the majority of the researchers involved know that previous models, originating in the pragmatics of the civilization of literacy, will not provide answers. as beautiful as the science embodied in the technology of industrial society is, it will not, not even accidentally, contribute to the scientific progress in nanotechnology, in bioinformatics, in fluid dynamics, and in other frontier domains researched today. gene expression and protein syntheses are many working centuries-the total of the years contributed by researchers to the advancement of their respective fields-ahead of everything that science has produced in the past. add to these accomplishments in the ever-expanding list of modern sciences, and you get the feeling that humankind is literally reinventing itself in the civilization of illiteracy. the list to follow is telling of the shift from the coarse level of scientific effort corresponding to the industrial operations of milling and grinding, to a level of atomic and sub-atomic re-ordering. the same components, differently ordered, can appear to us as graphite or diamonds, sand or silicon for chips. the list represents a reality of enormous consequence, confirmed in the daily commotion of a never-ending series of discoveries. life on mars, molecular self-assembly, protein folding, atomic resolution imaging, nano-structural materials with unprecedented properties, quantum devices, advances in neuro-medicine-the list is a shameless exercise in creating headlines, soon to be replaced by newer and more creative endeavors. this is why, in addressing issues of science and philosophy, i do not intend to offer a catalogue of current research, but to put the subject in a dynamic perspective. by all means, i want to avoid the danger of presenting science especially as the agent of change, as though its own motivations and means could give humankind its direction and purpose. rationality, reason, and the scale of things the dynamics of change in scientific and philosophic thinking is not independent of the underlying structure of the pragmatics that leads to the civilization of illiteracy. both involve rationality, which connects human practical experiences to consistent inferences (sometimes seen as logical conclusion) and to the ability to predict events (in nature or society), even to influence and control them. rationality is connected to efficiency insofar as it is applied in the selection of means appropriate to accomplishing goals; or it serves as an instrument for evaluation of the premises leading to a selected course of action. in short, rationality is goal oriented. reason, in turn, is value oriented; it guides practical experiences of human self-constitution in the direction of appropriateness. rationality and reason are interconditioned. right and wrong, good and bad, are the axes along which human action and emotion can be diagrammed in the matrix of living and working that they constituted under the guise of literacy. the process through which human rationality and reason become characteristics of human self-constitution is long and tortuous. people defining themselves in different pragmatic contexts enter into a network of interdependency. at a very small scale of human existence and activity, rationality and reason were indistinguishable. they began to differentiate early on, already during hunting and gathering. but during the long experience of settlement and taking care of plants and animals, they grew aware of the distinction between what they were doing and how. with the culture of artifacts, to which tools belong, reason and rationality took separate paths. with the advent of science, in its most primitive forms, documented in ancient china, egypt, india, and greece, rationality and reason often conflicted. things can be right, without being good at the same time. there is a rationality-goal oriented: how to get more goods, how to avoid losses-with the appearance of reason-actions to please forces supposed to control nature or matter. parallel to science, magic manifested itself through alchemy, astrology, and numerology, all focused on the attempt to harmonize human beings, constituted in practical experiences focused on goodness, with the world housing them. in some cultures, rationality resulted in the propensity to face, change, and eventually dominate nature-that is, to submit the environment to a desired order. reason aimed at finding practical grounds for harmony with nature. after the phase of orality, writing served both of them equally. it made language a mold for new experiences, a container for storing knowledge, and an effective means for the practical experience of evaluation and self-evaluation. the overwhelming majority of human accomplishments leading to the possibility and necessity of literacy were connected to the experience of human self-constitution in writing. the science and philosophy upon which the scientific revolution and the revival of humanities (in particular philosophy) of the th and th centuries took place are deeply rooted in the pragmatics that made writing necessary. this revolution is usually summarized through three main accomplishments. first: a new picture of the universe, scientifically expressed in heliocentric astronomy and philosophically a turning point in understanding the role of the human being in this world. second: the mathematical description of motion. third: the new conceptual framework of mechanics. as impressive as they are, their meaning is revealed in the fact that the industrial revolution was actually triggered by the scientific and humanistic renewal embodied in these accomplishments. the change from an agrarian economy, appropriate to a relatively reduced scale of population and work, to industrial production changed efficiency by orders of magnitude corresponding to those of the critical mass reached by humankind. all the characteristics of this new pragmatics-sequentiality, linearity, centralism, determinism (mechanical in nature), clear-cut distinctions, interdependencies-contributed to the establishment of literacy. a lost balance within the pragmatic framework of the industrial society, science progressively assumed the leading role over philosophy. in fact, science changed from an elitist practical experience strongly controlled by the guardians of literacy (i.e., religion) to an experience integrated in society. philosophy followed an inverse path, from a generalized attitude of wonder to becoming the privilege of the few who could afford to contemplate the world. generalized in technology, the rationality of science reached its peak in the civilization of literacy through standardization and mass production of processed food, means of transportation (cars, airplanes), home building, and the use of electricity as the efficient alternative energy source. but the real challenge was yet to come. einstein took a daring guess. "the tragedy of modern men...is that they created conditions of existence for which, from the perspective of their phylogenetic development, they are not adjusted." the lost balance between rationality and reason is reflected in the image of all the consequences of the industrial revolution that led to the runaway capitalism of the th and th centuries. exhaustion of raw materials, air and water pollution, erosion of productive land, and mental and physical strain on humans are the concrete results of this imbalance. but if these consequences were all people and society had to cope with, the dominance of literacy in science would still be defensible. the challenge comes from the new scale of humankind for which the industrial revolution model and literacy are no longer adequate. efficiency expectations, of an order of magnitude incompatible with the underlying structure of the pragmatic framework based on literacy, result in the need for a new dynamics, for mediation, acknowledgment and use of non-linearity, vagueness, and non-determinism. science, as well as the implicit philosophic component of this new science, already approached areas of knowledge beyond the borderline guarded by literacy. on the initial success of micro-physics, the first non- literacy-based technological challenge for more energy was met in the form of relatively rudimentary weapons. in the meanwhile, it became clear that a new physics and a new chemistry, and a new biology, along with many disciplines non-existent within literacy, of a systemic focus with quality and process is what we need. some of the scientific themes mentioned already illustrate how science is evolving. they also illustrate how a new epistemological condition is established, one that is based on projecting explanatory models upon the world and testing them for appropriateness and coherence. in the lead are practical experiences of science driven by cognitive resources no longer constrained by observation. what is free of epistemological doubt is that almost all the science that has emerged has reclaimed interest in the living. these new sciences, which are philosophies at the same time, are computationally disclosed biophysics, biochemistry, molecular biology, genetics, medicine, and knowledge of the micro- and nano-universe. literacy, because of its inherent structural characteristics, is no longer the appropriate mold for such new experiences, the proper container for knowledge, or even an effective means of evaluation. among many possible literacies, it maintains a domain of appropriateness, and within this domain it allows for local performance synchronized with the general expectation of efficiency. the shift from literacy to literacies-in fact, the shift to the pragmatic framework of the civilization of illiteracy- takes place against the background of conflict between means of restricted efficiency and new means for coping with larger populations, and with the newly acquired right to well-being, or even affluence. almost all new sciences evolve in new technologies. we are already familiar with some, since we were told that from science programs (space exploration, genetic research, biophysics), products as trivial as calculators, thermal fabric, and new construction materials were made available at prices affordable in the global economy. we are getting used to others as they become available: intelligent materials able to alter their structure, and self-assembling materials. thinking about thinking one dominant inherited assumption is that thinking takes place only in language; that is, that language is the medium of thinking. this is a very difficult subject to deal with because, despite claims to the contrary, some people (einstein is most quoted witness) maintain that they think in images, others in sounds, others in some combination of shapes, colors, textures, even odor and taste. until now, no one could conclusively prove whether this is a way of speaking or a fact. but the same can be said of language. that we can express thoughts, sometimes frustratingly incomplete, in language does not necessarily mean that we think in language, or only in language. that language is a medium for explanation and interpretation, well adapted to support incomplete inductions or deductions, and sometimes hypothetical thinking (so-called abductions), is not necessarily the proof that it is the only one. scientists think in the language of mathematical or logical formalism, or in some of the new programming languages, even if they do not carry on dialogue or try to write poetry or love letters in such languages. literacy, as a socially encompassing ideal, states that people should be literate because people think in language. accordingly, proper use of language, as set forth in the rules of literacy, is a premise for successful thinking. besides introducing circularity-the premise turns out to be the conclusion-this is a strong assumption, with too many implications for science and for philosophy to be left unchallenged. the assumption was never entirely proven; and it is probably impossible to prove, given the strong connection between all signs participating in thinking processes. images call up words, but so do odors, flavors, textures, and sounds. words recall or trigger images, music, etc. the integrated nature of thinking is probably affected by mechanisms of voluntary decision-making or by genetic mechanisms structured to accept a certain sign system (language, mathematical formalism, diagrams) as dominant, without precluding modes of thought different from those resulting from the premise of literacy. if defining thinking as language processing resulted in human experiences possible only under this assumption, there are also other ways to define thinking which, in turn, may become, if they haven't yet, necessary and beneficial. in this respect, one question can be raised: are thinking machines, i.e., programs able to autonomously perform operations we associate with human thinking, excluded from the discussion because they do not qualify as literate? many scientific endeavors of our time would not have started if potential success were to be put to a literacy test. the area of new materials, able to fix themselves, and of machines resulting from self-assembly belong among our examples. fortunately, science based on alternative practical human experiences, fairly independent of language and literacy, discovered that there are alternative ways to define thinking, and rationality, for that matter. considering thinking together with other human traits, such as emotion, sense of humor, aesthetics, the ability to project ideas through various media, senses or languages will probably lead to even more daring scientific research. before considering alternative ways to define thinking and the relation between rationality and human reason, let us look at the characteristics of thinking in current praxis, science and philosophy included. the amount of language we need to function in the workplace and in social life has diminished in comparison to previous circumstances of human experience. if thinking took place only in language, that would mean that thinking itself has diminished. very few people would be inclined to accept this conclusion. the small subset of language used in social life and in professional interaction is representative of the segmented nature of this life and of the interactions it supports. this small subset of language, the command of which does not require literacy skills, is composed of social stereotypes, but is not sufficient to constitute a medium for thinking. parallel to the diminished subset of natural language, the languages of science and technology expanded as expectations of scientific and technological efficiency increased. expressions in the small subset of natural language that people use in order to function are generated regardless of the requirement of variety and change in our reciprocal relations. as canned expressions of limited function, they are taken over from previous circumstances, and used independently of what once determined their need. chances are that an illiterate neighbor will never be noticed since everything pertaining to the social status of such a neighbor is literacy independent: driving, washing clothes, cooking, banking, telephoning, watching television, connecting to the internet. the trained illiterate can perform these tasks and those pertinent to work perfectly without ever displaying a literacy handicap. no doubt that the new machines, new materials, new foods, and new medicines that are more at the frontiers of science than in the mainstream of living and working will further affect the need and possibility of a civilization dominated by more than one of its means of expression and communication. people can function as illiterates in societies of extreme specialization without being noticed as illiterates and without affecting the efficiency of the system to which they belong because their own involvement in the functioning of the world in which they live is changing. illiterate rationality is no less goal oriented than any other rationality. it is just expressed through other means. and it is no less concerned with predicting the behavior of systems driven by languages of extreme functionality, working regardless of the literacy of the operators. scientific literacy is either stored in skills, through training, or in the systems operated by people who know less about their functioning than the machines themselves. symptoms such as misuse of words, sloppy language and grammar, use of stereotypes, the inability and even unwillingness to sustain dialogue might be telling something about thinking, too-for instance, that forms of thinking based on sign systems other than language are more effective, or more appropriate to what people do in our days; or even that appropriateness in one particular sign system does not translate into appropriateness and effectiveness in another practical experience. no wonder that science, in addition to reasons implicit in the nature of scientific inquiry, shies away from language, from its imprecision, ambiguity, and tendency to coalesce in stereotypes, or become stereotypes under circumstances of patterned use. philosophy, by and large, follows the same tendency, although its alternatives are not comparable to those of science. the experience of science, and to a more limited degree that of philosophy, is simultaneously an experience in generating language capable of handling continuity, vagueness, and fuzzy relations. spatial reasoning and replication of phenomena, usually associated with the living as aspects of common-sense knowledge, are also constitutive of the new science. extremely specialized human practical experiences are no longer predominantly experiences based on knowledge, but on constituting the person as information integrator. the continuous diminution of the need to think corresponds to the extreme segmentation of work and to the successful technological integration of various partial contributions resulting from this highly efficient segmented and mediated work. in one's individual life, in activities pertinent to self-maintenance (nourishment, rest, hygiene, enjoyment), the process is the same. thinking is focused on selection: cooking one from many pre-processed meals at home, dressing in one from among many ready- made clothing items, living in pre-fabricated homes, washing objects in programmed machines. but the objects embody someone else's thinking. the reified thinking projected into gene manipulation, materials, and machines leads to a reduction of live thinking. people integrate themselves in the information network, and for a greater part of their existence they act as information processors: heat something until it pops; snap or zip to close; press a button that will adjust water temperature and wash cycle according to the type of clothes. more generally, people rely on the living machine that adapts to the user, re-assembles itself as requirements change, and/or fixes itself. rationality is more and more integrated in the technology; thus it is rationalized away from the process of individual self-constitution. as tremendous as the consequences can be, they will be infinitely more dangerous if we do not start thinking about them. technology at this level uncouples the past from the present. consequently, life and actual existence are alienated. individuals do not have to think, they have to integrate themselves into the program embodying high efficiency rationality and reason. today, knowledge of what goes into food, how preparation affects its qualities, what makes for a good shirt or sweater, what makes for a good house, what it means to wash, and how a material is affected by certain chemicals and water temperatures are rendered irrelevant. what matters is the result, not the process. what counts is efficiency, not individual know-how. thinking is detached from thinking in the sense that all thinking, and thus rationality, is embodied outside the self-constituted human being. the appearance is that this outside thinking and this outside rationality have a life of their own. memetic mechanisms are a testimony to the process. in the civilization of illiteracy, we experience not only the benefits of high efficiency, but also the self-perpetuating drive of new pragmatic means. at times it appears that humans do not compete for achieving higher levels of creativity and productivity. affluence appears as a given that takes over the need to match efficiency expectations characteristic of the global scale of humankind. to keep pace with technological progress and with scientific renewal becomes a rationale in itself, somehow disconnected from human reason. the confusing rationality of ever- increasing choices is matched by the frustrating realization that value options literally disappear, leaving no room for sensible reasoning. as a result, social and political aspects of human existence are short circuited, in particular those affecting the status of science and the condition of philosophy. frequently, research is questioned as to whether its goals make sense at all. only years ago, half of the population in the usa suspected that science and the technology it fosters were the cause rather than the cure of many problems faced in the country, social problems included. the balance changed, but not the attitude of those captive to literacy's goals and values, who oppose science and the humanities instead of seeing them in their necessary, although contradictory, unity. quo vadis science? discovery and explanation from among the many levels at which the issue of language in relation to science is relevant, two are critical: discovery and explanation. in all fairness, it should be said that literacy never claimed to be a way towards scientific discovery, or that language is the instrument making discovery possible. the main claim is that access to science, and thus the possibility to continue scientific work, is primarily through language. this assertion was correct in the past as long as scientific practice took place in a homogeneous cognitive context of shared representations of time and space. once this context changed, the built-in language metrics of experience, what is called the ratio, the shared measure, started to get in the way of new discoveries and efficient explanations of previous discoveries. among the many new codes scientists use today, symbolic reasoning (used in mathematics, logic, genetics, information science, etc.) is the most pervasive. all in all, a transition has been made from a centralized scientific practice to new experiences, which are quite often independent of each other and better adapted to the scale of the particular phenomenon of interest. this independence, as well as sensitivity to scale, results from different objects of specialized disciplines, from different perspectives, and from different sign systems structured as research tools or as medium for constituting efficient explanatory theories. plato would have barred entrance to the academy to those who did not master mathematics: "let no one enter who is not a mathematician." in today's world, the guardians of science would require logic, and others the mastery of artificial languages, such as programming languages, themselves subject to improved focus (as in object programming) and increased computational efficiency. in the time of socrates, "the orator," language was ascertained to be constitutive of cities, laws, and the arts. in the time of the roman poet lucretius, physics was written in verse ( , lines of heroic hexameter were used to present epicurus' atomic theory). galileo preferred the dialogue, written in colloquial italian, to share discoveries in physics and astronomy with his contemporaries. with newton, equations started to replace words, and they became, almost to our time, the vocabulary of physics. very similar developments took place in the evolution of science in china, india, the middle east. the emergence of new visual or multimedia languages (of diagrams, systems of notation, visual representations, mixed data types) corresponds to the different nature of visual and multimedia experience. they are steps in the direction of deeper labor division, increased mediation, and new forms of human interaction-in particular, of a practice that is more intensional than extensional. time and space: freed hostages the encyclopedic tradition centered around the scientific human being (l'homme scientifique) who it defined through language. this tradition continued a line of progressive changes in humankind's scientific experience. we can learn about these changes by examining the language through which they are expressed. the syncretic stage of human activity was dominated by observations and short cycles of action- reaction. incipient, rudimentary science was not independent of the human being's practical projection. images and, later, names of plants, animals, mountains, and lakes pertained to the beginning. only when the scope of observation broadened and, instead of the immediate connection, a series of connections was accounted for, did science become a praxis in itself. science was born together with the magical, and would continue to develop in this symbiosis. eventually, it joined religion in opposing the magic. observation and fear of the observed were one. names of stars testify to changes in the language in which what we call astronomical science is embodied. obviously there was little awareness of the mechanics of the cosmos during the time names changed. mytho-magical terminology, followed by zodiac signs of magic origin (in both cases with reference to the practical activity of people during changing seasons), and by the christian names (after the establishment of christianity), is a line continued today in detailed catalogs encoding positions, dynamics, and interrelations in numeric form. in the experience of observing the sky and in deriving the notion of duration (how long it took for celestial objects to change position), humans projected their biological and cognitive characteristics: seeing, association, comparison. names were given and observations were made, of position mainly, but also of light intensity. with the emergent notion of time, generalized from the notion of duration, stars were nolonger related to divinities. still, astronomical observation was used to structure monastic life. stars served as a nighttime clock. at a time of reduced scientific inquiry (europe from the th century to the th), the observation of the skies, reflected in maps of various constellations, prepared for future progress in astronomy. physical properties, such as intensity of light, color, and brilliancy, later suggested better names because the experience in which stars were recognized (navigation, in the first place) required identification for successful performance. magic and science explained success in very different ways. this was the time when planets were identified through properties evident to all who needed the sky. the magic layer was projected as a result of associations people made between qualities characteristic of persons and the behavior of certain stars, i.e., the perceived influence they had on events pertinent to human existence. during the entire process, language served as an instrument of integration and observation, as well as a means for logical practice, such as deductions. molding the experience of time perception, storing the acquired knowledge, and further shaping practical experiences of time, language acquired a very powerful position in the human being's self-constitution in time. this position would be strengthened by literacy, bound to generalize distinctions in language and introduce them as effective means of structuring new expectations. only when time-dependent practical requirements, such as those of relativity, impossible to satisfy within literacy, became critical was time freed from the captivity of verbal language. a giant cognitive step bridged the immediacy of the surroundings-where magic forces were rumored to exist, waiting for humans to free them-and the notion of space. geometry-which literally means to measure land-is relevant as a practical experience of human self-constitution that unites the concrete task at hand (surveying, building, decorating, observing the sky) and the generalization of distance. measuring land ends up not only in description of the land, but also in its reconstitution in the abstract category of space. language was part of the process, and for as long as practical experiences in the immediate surrounding were direct, geometric conventions remained very close to their practical implications. once distinctions beyond direct relations in space were made possible by the experience of navigation, by settled forms of social life (leading to future cities), and by strategies for successful securing and defense of land, the language of geometry changed. internally motivated developments, as well as those rooted in forms of human praxis other than geometry, resulted in the constitution of many geometric languages. the languages of the foundations of geometry and of algebraic, differential, or topological geometry are as different as the practical experiences from which they are derived. in many cases, literate language suffices for formulating geometric problems, but breaks down in supporting the practice of attempting solutions. obviously enough, the intuitive visual aspect of geometry is quite often better adapted to subjects such as symmetry, higher order spaces, and convexity than is literacy. rigid spaces and elastic spaces behave differently from spaces describable in language. geometry frequently uses notations whose referent is rather abstract. the freeing of time and space from the captivity of language made an impact on the condition of rationality, where scientific praxis is rooted, and of reason, where philosophy originates. coherence and diversity science integrates the results of diversified experiences and expresses the perceived human need to maintain a coherent perspective of the whole. as a reaction to the establishment of a permanent and universal language embodied in the practice of literacy, partial languages of scientific focus emerged. those who knew from their own self-constitution in scientific practice that global coherence, as preserved in language, and specialized knowledge conflict, gave up the effort to harmonize the general framework (of language) and the specialized perspective (of science). the understanding that the language of science is not simply a descriptive device, but a constitutive element of scientific practical experience, did not come easy, especially since language kept human awareness of space and time captive to its mechanism of representation. seemingly, it was less difficult to notice how measuring some phenomena (especially in physics) changed the system observed than to understand how a scientific hypothesis expressed in language created a framework of subjective science. the subjectivity of the language description corresponds to a particular practical experience involving identification through language. particular developments in science are not identical in all scientific branches. astronomy and geometry evolved differently from each other and from other sciences. as a result of the inherent dynamics of conflict between means and goals of sciences, a phase of liberation from language started. once language itself reached its limits in literacy, in respect to the efficiency of the new human experiences that the current scale of humankind brought about, new languages were needed. breaking the language barrier, with implicit emancipation from literacy, is a practical experience in itself. in this experience, two aspects of language come under scrutiny: the epistemological and the communicational. in the epistemological status, we evaluate how language is a medium for embodying science and shaping the perspective of scientific inquiry. the communicational status refers to language as a medium for sharing knowledge. the levels of problem formulation, of solutions, of interpretation, of experiment and validation, and of communication are quite different. they will continue to differentiate even more in order to be efficient. the rationality intrinsic to this new science is no longer reducible to finding the logos in things and phenomena, or to instill a logos into techné. this is why the legacy of francis bacon-the prophetic theoretician of experimental science-as well as of descartes-whose rules for understanding dominated the literate phase of humankind's scientific practical experience-literally cease to be relevant once we move from language to languages, from literacy to illiteracy. computational science language is ambiguous, imprecise, and not neutral in respect to the phenomena observed and accounted for. for these and other reasons, researchers working within the informational paradigm needed to synthesize specialized languages designed in such ways to avoid ambiguity and make higher efficiency of automated processing possible. many formal languages have become the new scientific laboratories of our time, preparing quite well for the new stage of computational disciplines. in parallel, new forms of scientific experimentation, which correspond to the complexity of the phenomena under observation and to their dynamics, were developed. these forms are known under the name simulation (sometimes modeling) and consist of observing not the behavior of the researched aspect of the world, but one or several of its descriptions. to observe the explosion of a remote star, a time-span of data collection that extends well over the age of humankind is required. instead of waiting (forever, so to speak), scientists model astrophysical phenomena and visualize them with the aid of sophisticated computable mathematical descriptions. these are better suited to the scale of the phenomena than all the equipment ever used for this purpose. radio astronomy is no longer about the stars seen through human eyes. it is not about the visible, and it is not burdened by all the history of star names. radio-astronomy is about star systems, cosmic physics, dynamics, even about the notion, so often discarded, of the beginning of the universe. the geometry of higher (than three) space dimensions is not about the visible-the surveyed land, building, or ornament-never mind the magical spirits inhabiting it. such geometries submit theoretical constructs supporting a practice of thinking, explaining, even acting, that is not possible without the generalization of space dimensions. whether in the fiction of flatland (edwin abbott's book about how different life is in lower-dimension space compared to life in what we take to be -dimensional reality), or in the computer graphics animated representation of the hypercube, or in the theories of higher dimension spaces (relating to einstein's relativity theory), scientific languages, irreducible to the general language and non- translatable into it, are at work. there are quite a number of similar subjects which make evident the border at which science can no longer rely on language. a non-language-based rationality- spatial reasoning, for instance-becomes necessary in this realm of inquiry. as sciences enter the age of computation, necessities become possibilities. there are subjects of research in which the brevity of a process makes impossible its direct observation and appropriate description in language. indeed, the universe of extremely short interactions, of fast exchanges of energy, of high frequency patterns (which give the appearance of a continuum), among others, can be approached only with instruments of observation whose own inertia is lower than that of the phenomena scrutinized and with a conceptual framework for which language (of high inertia) is ill equipped. language preserves in its structure the experience that made it necessary; literacy does the same. this is why their sequentiality conflicts with subjects of configurational condition. this is also why linearity, inherent in the pragmatics that formed literacy, conflicts with the inherent non-linearity of the world. many other conflicts are at work at the same time: centrality of work opposed to distribution of tasks; hierarchy and distributed networking; clear-cut distinctions and vagueness; deterministic experiences of limited scope opposed to self-configurational, chaotic processes of infinite adaptation to new circumstances; dualism as opposed to pluralism (in scientifically significant forms). at stake is the efficiency of the effort, as it approaches issues of recuperation mechanisms in nature and society, strategies of co- evolution (replacing strategies of dominance) with nature, holistic models made possible by both increased mediation and powerful integrative mechanisms. idealizing all these possibilities would be as counterproductive as demonizing literacy-based practical experiences. nevertheless, we need a better understanding of what no longer responds to requirements of human self-constitution under the new scale of humankind, as we need an image of the alternative practical experiences through which a new rationality is formed. in the rapidly expanding context of parallel scientific endeavors and distributed tasks supported by speedy and reliable networks, scientific research is liberated from the industrial model. instead of centralized institutions sharing in the use of expensive instruments, there is an increasing number of experiments taking place all over the world. tele-presence is less expressive a name for what researchers actually perform thousands of miles away from each other, using expensive machines and various measuring and testing devices. the laboratories that once served as the place for scientific self-constitution are replaced by collaboratories, a combination of real instruments, which can be used more efficiently, and virtual places of research that allow for more creativity. real-time interaction is fundamental to the context of focusing on nano-scale. multidisciplinarity is no longer an illusion, but a practical requirement for the integration that scientific effort requires. explaining ourselves away systematic domains of human practical experiences are changing fast. the science of the ever shorter and more intense phenomena in which the human being of this age is constituted consists of a body of expressive means in which language either plays a secondary function or is substituted with forms of expression other than language. procedures to capture the coherence of the phenomena researched now need to be adapted to this reality. the coherence embodied in language reflects past experiences, but does not properly explain experiences characterized by new kinds of coherence. in recent years, a question has come up time and again: is there some common element in language, in the possible messages exchanged in our universe by civilizations different from ours, in the messages exchanged at the genetic level of our existence or in the biochemical trails which we associate with the behavior of ant colonies or beehives? it would be premature to attempt an answer. as already mentioned, david hirsch ascertains that % of human activity is concept free. control mechanisms in charge of this form of activity are common not only to humans, but also to lower level biological entities (insects, for instance). exploration of cosmic civilizations, genetics, biochemistry, not to mention memetics, is not necessarily helped by this answer. having to explain abstract mathematical concepts or the behavior of complex systems (such as the human nervous system), some displaying learning capabilities or self-organization tendencies, raises the stakes quite high: do we explain ourselves away in the effort to emulate the human being? replication of ideas (scientific, philosophic, or of any other type) based on the genetic model inspired by evolutionary theory, contributes new angles to the subject. but even if we manage to establish methods for successful replication, have we captured the characteristics of human self-identification? in the same vein, another question needs to be addressed: the mystique of science comes from the realization that the law of gravity applies everywhere, that electricity does not depend on the geographic coordinates of the place where people live, that computation is a universal calculus. still, science is not value neutral; one model dominates others; one rationality wins over others. the truth of a scientific theory and its empirical adequacy are only loosely related. to accept one science over another is to the scientist an issue of rationality, while for those integrating it in their practical experiences, it becomes an issue of adequacy. this aspect constitutes more than a cultural or memetic issue. at stake is the fact that the natural condition of the human being is quite often rationalized away, regardless of the reason. the efficiency of science in recent years language has changed probably more than in its entire history. still, these changes are not of the depth and breadth of scientific and technological praxis. computer science, as dijkstra pointed out, deserves a better name, more in line with the fundamental change this practical experience brings about. ("would anyone call surgery knife science"? he asked.) we don't have better names for many other fields of new human experience: artificial life, artificial intelligence, genetics, qualitative reasoning, and memetics. but we do have powerful new notation systems, new ways of reasoning (combining qualitative and quantitative aspects), and fresh methods of expression (interactive). consequently, a new human condition resulting from the practice of science will probably emerge. this condition will reflect the changed premises of scientific experiment. experimentation joined logical analysis over years ago. simulation, the experiment of the civilization of illiteracy, is becoming the dominant scientific form of expression of the systematic search for the multitude of elements involved in new scientific theories and in their applications. a variety of simulators embody knowledge and doubt. this can be seen in a broader context. through simulation, variability is accounted for, relations are scrutinized, functional dependencies are tested over a wide array of data critical to the performance of new systems, or over a wide array of the people involved with them. after heroically, and necessarily, separating from philosophy and establishing its own methods, science is rediscovering the need for the dimension covered by human reasoning. this is, after all, what the subject matter of artificial intelligence is and what it ultimately produces: simulations of our capability to reason. in the same vein, scientists are concerned with the metaphysics of the beginning of the universe, and the language of the mind (lingua mentis), evidently assumed to be different from language as we use it in the framework of community, cultural, and national existence. to reflect upon the beginning of the universe or upon the mind means to constitute oneself, together with the appropriate language, in a pragmatic context different from community interaction, cultural values, or national characteristics. the focus is changed from obsession with quantity to preoccupation with quality. qualities are pursued in the attempt to build a science of artificial reality. as a scientific artifact, this reality is endowed with characteristics of life, such as change and evolution over time, selection of the fittest, the best adapted to that world, and acquisition of knowledge, common sense, and eventually language. focused on the model of life as a property of organization, artificial reality is intent on generating lifelike behavior: iterative optimization, learning, growth, adaptability, reproduction, and even self-identification. whereas science followed strategies of standardization, artificial life is focused on generating conditions for diversity, which eventually foster adaptability. allocation of resources within a system and strategies of co-evolution are seen as resources of incremental performance. research starts from a premise that belongs to the realm of reasoning, not rationality: humans and the problem being solved are continuously changing. exploring the virtual virtual realities are focused on almost everything that art pursues: illusion of space, time, movement, projection of human emotions. interacting with such a system means that the person becomes involved in the inside of images, sounds, and movements. all these are simulated, using animation as the new language of the science that the moving image embodies. in some ways, virtual reality becomes a general purpose simulator of a captivating variable reality, made possible by mediating elements such as computer graphics images, animation, digital sound, tracking devices, and quite a number of other elements. inside this reality, virtual objects, tools, and actions open the possibility of practical experiences of self-constitution in a meta- knowledge world. quality in virtual reality is also pursued as scientists try to give a coherent image of the very first minutes of the universe. physics, genetics, biophysics, biochemistry, geology, and all else integrated in this multi-mediated effort are turned from science into natural history or philosophic ontology. to explain why physicists needed an indestructible proton for explaining matter is not an issue of numbers, precision, or equations, but of common sense: if protons could decay, mountains, oceans, stars, and planets would crumble and turn back into neutrons and electrons, and a reversal of the big bang might occur. is this predictive rationality? is validation of this type of experimentation a subject of language? as a possible explanation, which facilitates a new array of experiments in computer simulation, particle accelerators, and radio- astronomic observations, virtual reality facilitates new forms of human praxis and is embodied in new theories of physics. obviously, the efficiency factor, one of the major elements in the transition from one dominant literacy to partial literacies, plays an important role in this endeavor. this generalized notion of efficiency has several components in the case of science. one is the efficiency of our attempts to make science productive. compared to the efficiency of the lever and the pulley, the efficiency of the electric engine reaches a different scale of magnitude. the same applies to our new tools, but in more dramatic ways. so far, we have managed to make science the most expensive human endeavor. its current development appears to be motivated by a self-perpetuating drive: knowledge for the sake of knowledge. science generated technology, which dramatically affects the outcome of human effort. the second component factor in the transition to the pragmatics of the civilization of illiteracy is the efficiency of our preparation for commanding these new tools, new forms of energy, and new forms of human interaction. learning how to operate simple mechanical devices is different from learning how to program new tools capable of commanding sophisticated technology and of controlling tremendous amounts of energy. although mediation has increased in human praxis, people do not yet know how to handle mediation, even less how to adapt education, their own and their children's, to shorter cycles of scientific and technological renewal. last among the factors at work in the change we are going through is the efficiency of invention, discovery, and explanation. largely supported by society (states invest in science in order to pursue their goals, as do businesses and various interest groups), science is under the pressure of performance. markets confirm scientific results from the perspective of the return on investment they promise to deliver. parallel to the most advanced and promising scientific endeavors, venture capital underwrites the industries of the near future. insulation of any kind, even secrecy, no matter how stubbornly pursued and justified, is no longer possible within the economic dynamics of the present. no matter how hard companies try to impose secrecy, they fail when faced with the interactivity and integration of effort characteristic of the new dynamics. the expectation of change, of shorter cycles of investigation, and of shorter times for integration of results in the productive ability of technology is unavoidable. still, in the usa and in europe, there are conflicts between the new dynamics of scientific and technological progress and the bureaucracy of science. driven by motivations characteristic of literate infatuation with national pride and security, this bureaucracy extends well beyond science and is hard at work to protect what is already passé. for science to advance, networks of activity, distributed tasks, and shared resources, all implying transparency and access, are essential. the conflict between scientific goals and morality takes on its own characteristics in the civilization of illiteracy. indeed, scientific results might be right, but not necessarily always good for humankind. they might support higher efficiency, but sometimes to the detriment of people obsessed with maintaining high standards of living. there are many activities-too many to list-in which humans can be entirely replaced by machines. extreme effort, exposure to chemicals, radiation, and other unfriendly elements could be avoided. however, doing away with the living person whose identity is constituted in work experiences makes the activity itself questionable. it is no longer the case that we only talk about genetic control of populations, or about mind control, about creating machines endowed with extreme capabilities, including control of the people who made them. these are distinct possibilities, to which we are closer than many believe. neither science nor technology, even less philosophy, can afford to ignore the conflict immanent in the situation, or the danger posed by giving in to solutions resulting from a limited perspective, or from our dedication to make real everything that is possible. after all, we can already destroy the planet, but we do not, or at least not so radically as it could be destroyed. short of being paralyzed by all these dangers, science has to question its own condition. in view of this, it is far from accidental that sciences in the civilization of illiteracy rediscover philosophy, or they re-philosophize themselves. quo vadis philosophy? the language of wisdom reflecting upon human beings and their relation to the outside world (nature, culture, society) constitutes a determined form of philosophical experience. it involves awareness of oneself and others, and the ability to identify similarities and differences, to explain the changing dynamics of existence, and to project the acquired understanding into the practice of formulating new questions. practical implications of philosophic systems are manifold. such systems affect scientific, moral, political, cultural, and other human practical experiences of self-constitution. they accumulate wisdom more than knowledge. to this effect, we can say that the classic model of philosophy remains a science of sciences, or at least the alma mater of sciences. philosophic systems are concerned with human values, not with skills or abilities involved in reaching goals defined by our rationality. nevertheless, this status has been continuously challenged from inside and outside philosophy. the decline of respect for philosophy probably results from the perceived omniscient attitude philosophers have displayed and from their unwillingness to focus on aspects of human reason. philosophy has never been a domain for everyone. in our day, it has become a discourse expressed, if not in painfully contorted language, in a multitude of specialized languages addressed to a relatively small circle of interested parties, themselves philosophers for the most part. the change in the pragmatic condition of philosophy is reflected in its current linguistic equivocations. "my philosophy" is an expression used by anyone to express anything from a tactic in football to investments, drug use, diet, politics, religions, and much more. misunderstood cultural exigencies, originating in the civilization of literacy, and political opportunism maintain philosophy as a required subject in universities, no matter what is taught under its name, who teaches it, or how. under communism in east europe and the soviet union, where free choice was out of question, philosophy was obligatory because it was identified with the dominating ideology. in most liberal societies, philosophic abstraction is as much abhorred as lack of money. philosophic illiteracy is a development in line with the deteriorating literacy manifested in our days. but what affects this change is the new pragmatic framework, not the decline in writing and reading proficiency. the specialization of philosophic language, as well as the integration of logico- mathematical formalism in philosophical discourse, have not contributed to recuperating the prestige of philosophy, or of the philosopher, for that matter. neither did it contribute to resolving topics specific to the discipline, in particular, to human experience and conscience. in fact, philosophy has disappeared in a number of philosophies practiced today: analytic, continental, feminist, afro-american, among others. each has constituted its own language and even perspective, pursuing goals frequently rooted in the philosophy of the civilization of literacy, or in its politics. the relevance (or irrelevance) of philosophy cannot be ascertained outside the practice of questioning and answering, a practice that made philosophy necessary in the first place. indeed, as a practice of positioning the human being in the universe of human experience, philosophy is as relevant as the practical results of this positioning. there are scientific theories, such as the theory of relativity in physics or gene theory in biology, that are as philosophically relevant as they are scientifically significant. and there are, as well, philosophic theories of extreme scientific significance. many components of leibniz's system, of descartes' rationalism, and peirce's pragmaticism can be mentioned. each originates within a distinct pragmatic framework of practical experiences through which reason comes to expression and questions specific forms of rationality. philosophy, as we know it from the texts in which it was articulated, is a product molded through the experience that initially made writing possible (though not universally accepted) and, later, literacy necessary. its fundamental distinctions- subject/object, rational/irrational, matter/spirit, form/content, analytic/synthetic, concrete/abstract, essence/phenomenon-correspond largely to human practical experiences in the framework of language. the traditional gnoseological approach reflects the same structure, as does formal logic, based on aristotle's syllogistic theory. the fundamental linguistic distinction of subject/predicate marks-at least for western civilization-the entire approach. expectations of efficiency pertinent to the human scale leading to the industrial revolution affected the condition of philosophy. at this juncture, philosophers realized the practical aspect of the discipline. marx thought that it would empower people and help them change the world: "until now philosophers interpreted the world; it's time to change it." and change it did, but in ways different from what he and his followers anticipated. the hard grip of reified language turned the workers' paradise into a mental torture chamber. once the underlying structure (reflected in the requirements of literacy) changed, philosophy changed as well, also freeing itself from the categories of language that molded its speculative discourse. nevertheless, its institutions (education, professional associations and conferences) continue to pursue goals and functions peculiar to literate expectations. this prompted a strong movement of philosophic dissidence (feyerabend and lakatos are the main representatives), attuned to the practical need of a philosophic praxis aware of the relative nature of its assertions. multi-valued logic, the logic of relations, fuzzy set theory, and computation in its algorithmic and non-algorithmic forms (based on neural networks) allow philosophers to free themselves from the various dualisms embedded in the language of philosophy. significantly better answers to ontological, gnoseological, epistemological, and even historic questions have to reflect such and other cognitively relevant perspectives of knowledge. philosophy undergoes a process of mathematization in order to gain access to science and improve its own efficiency. it has become logic oriented, more computational. it has adopted genetic schemes for explaining variation and selection, extending to the current memetic conversations and methods. it is not unusual for philosophers to abandon the pattern of rehashing older theories and views, and to attempt to understand pragmatic exigencies and their reason. the scientification of philosophy could not have happened under the scrutiny of language and the domination of literacy. neither could we expect, within the literate framework, anything comparable to plato's dialogues, to the great philosophical systems of leibniz, kant, hegel, and marx, to the literary seduction of heidegger, sartre, or martin buber. in scientific disguise developing, parallel to common language (which philosophers frequently call natural language), different types of sign systems, humans utilize the latter's mediating force in order to increase the efficiency of their action. "give me a fixed point and i'll move the world" is the equivalent philosophical statement characteristic of the civilization of the lever and pulley. "when i use a word," humpty dumpty says in a scornful tone, "it means just what i choose it to mean, neither more nor less." "the question is," says alice, "whether you can make words mean so many different things." reading the dialogue from lewis carroll's through the looking glass, with the magnificent works of great philosophers (from plato to leibniz, kant, and hegel, peirce and many more) in mind, one understands alice's trouble. with the exception of wittgenstein, nobody really seems to have been bothered by the ability people have to make words mean many things. today, we could be directed to a philosophical paraphrase in which, instead of a fixed point, the need for a sign system (a language) is spelled out. adapted to the scope of the conceived practical experience, such a sign system, when put into practice, will change the world, will "move" it. diagrammatic thinking, the powerful cognitive model peirce advanced, exemplifies the idea. cybernetics, biogenetics, computers, and research in artificial intelligence and artificial life, as well as political, social, aesthetic, or religious concepts are examples of domains where such sign systems have been devised. they have facilitated forms of human self-constitution that contribute to the contradictory image of today's world. such languages reflect the fundamental process of progressive mediation, participate in the diversification of the languages used, and affect the status and value system of the ideal of literacy. they serve as the scientific disguise of philosophy. clarity (difficult to achieve in natural language), evidence, and certainty seem guaranteed in the language of science. in addition, objectivity and the ever seductive truth, for which philosophy was never known, are also apparently within reach. there is to philosophic discourse an internal reason for its continuous unfolding: people constituting themselves as philosophers change as the world they live in changes. human reasoning is part of the world; the ability and, moreover, the desire to think of new questions, attempt answers, and doubt our own ability to reach the right answer are part of what defines the human being. the consequences of mediation in philosophy should not be ignored. mediation implies, on one hand, a high degree of integration of human praxis (to the extent of making individual contribution anonymous), and on the other, a no less high degree of the subject's independence in respect to the object of work or reasoning, or the object represented by the other participants in human praxis. while it seems appropriate for science to know more and more about a narrower range of subjects, it contradicts the image of philosophy as it is formed in language and embodied in the ideal of literacy. due to this metaphorically defined deepening of knowledge, each philosopher is more independent of the other, but more intensely integrated than ever before due to the necessary interconnection of this knowledge. the meaning of this paradoxical situation is not easy to clarify. the overall process has followed two qualitatively contrary directions: ) concentration on a precisely delineated aspect of knowledge or action in order to understand and control it; ) abandoning interest in the whole as a consequence of the assumption that the parts will finally be reunited in the social integrating mechanism of the market, whether we want it or not. we now have particular philosophies-of law, ethics, science, sport, recreation, feminism, afro-centrism-but no longer a comprehensive philosophy of existence. the scientific disguise of philosophy contributes to its renewed struggle for legitimacy. it adopts concepts and methods pertinent to rationality. in order to deal with reason, or to do away altogether with questions of reasoning, it unfolds in science and technology. durkheim tried to apply darwin's natural selection model to explain labor division. at present, philosophers have become memeticians, and examine computational simulations of darwinian principles in order to see how ideas survive and advance. spencer believed that the increase of the productive power of work increases happiness. present-day philosophers are eager to diagram the relation between work satisfaction and personality. some even try to revive compte's positivist philosophy, to improve upon past utopian schemes, or to invent a calculus of intellectual well-being. short of a philosophic inquiry, everything becomes a subject waiting for a philosopher who does not want to stay within the boundaries of the history of philosophy. once new movements, some better justified than others, and all reflecting the shift from the authority-based civilization of literacy to the endless freedom of choice of the illiterate context, needed a powerful instrument to further their programs, they chose, or were chosen by, philosophy. secularism and pluralism meet within philosophic concerns with the gay movement, feminism, multi-culturalism, integration of new technology, implications of aging, the new holisms, popular philosophy, sexual emancipation, virtuality, and more along this line. in a way, this reflects the new awareness of efficiency that permeates philosophic activity, but also its struggle to maintain its relations to literacy. legitimate doubt is generated by the choice of subjects that seem to attract philosophers, and by the apparent lack of philosophic matter. when the language is not obscure, the philosopher seems to discuss matters, not really question reasons, and even less advance ideas or explanatory models. wholesale generalizations do not help, but one can really not escape the feeling that the process through which philosophy liberates itself from literacy has been less productive than the similar process of science's emancipation from language. a journey through the many philosophically oriented web sites reveals very quickly that even when philosophy opts out of the print medium, it carries over many of the limitations of literacy. the ability to open philosophic discourse, to adopt non- linearity, and to encourage dialogue free of the pressure of tradition is often signaled, but rarely accomplished. the medium is resisted, not enjoyed as an alternative to classic philosophical discourse. such observations have prompted the opinion that scientists are becoming the most appropriate philosophers of their own contributions. who needs philosophy? and what for? at this point, one question naturally arises: is philosophy relevant after all? moreover, is it even possible without the participation of natural language, or at least without this intermediary between philosophers and their public? in blunter terms, can we live without it? in the context in which efficiency expectations translate into a practical experience of an unprecedented degree of specialization, will philosophy turn into another mediating activity among people? or will it be, as it was considered in the culture of a romantic ideal, humanity's self-consciousness, as expressed in hegel's philosophy? if indeed philosophy is absorbed into science, what can its purpose be? as with literacy, the inclination is to suggest that, regardless of the new condition of language, philosophy remains possible and is indeed relevant. as far as its functions are concerned-mediating activity, humanity's self-consciousness, corpus of interpretive discourse about humanity and nature-they remain to be defined in the pragmatic context. it is needless to reiterate that within each scale of humankind, philosophy pursued different interests as these proved pertinent to efficiency expectations. philosophers never contributed bread to the table nor artifacts. their skill was to formulate questions, especially the very probing questions-"what is what?" and "why?"-in their attempt to address the origins of things. deciphering the reason of things and actions-in other words, understanding the world and its apparent order (what the greeks called eunomia)-made them simultaneously philosophers and interpreters of science. "how can we know?" and "how can we explain?" are subsequent questions, pursued more stringently by people in search of scientific rationality than by philosophers per se. no historic account, no matter how detailed, can do justice to the definition of philosophy. its subject changes as human beings change in the process of their practical self-constitution. from philosophy, science and all the humanities (ethics, aesthetics, politics, sociology, law) evolved. even our concern with language is of a philosophic nature. it seems that philosophy is, in the final analysis, the only authentic domain of abstraction. its interest is not the individual, the concrete, the immediate, not even the idea, but the abstraction of these. where other domains, such as mathematics, logic, linguistics, and physics are intent on understanding the abstract notions around which their domains are built, on giving them life in the context of practical experiences, philosophy seems driven by the quest for reaching the next level of abstraction, the abstraction of abstractions, and so on. science uses abstraction as an instrument for reaching concreteness; philosophy follows the inverse path. there is always to the philosophic attempt a call for the next step, into the infinite. each accomplishment is provisional. to experiment philosophically means not so much to search systematically for causes as to never end the inquiry. there are no right or wrong philosophic theories. philosophy is cumulative and self-devouring. that people will never stop wondering what is what, the more their own activity will multiply the domain of existing entities, goes almost without saying. that they will ask again and again how they can know, how they can be sure that what they know is true, or at least relevant, is also evident. the species is characterized by its ability to think, produce and master tools, acknowledge value, and constitute itself as a community of shared concern and resources, through its playfulness and other characteristics (alluded to in terms such as homo economicus, zoon semiotikon, zoon politikon, homo ludens). probably more than all these partial qualifiers, the species is the only one known to question everything. as language experience marked the genetic condition of the human being, questioning marked it too, probably through language mechanisms in the first place. when the child articulates the first question, the entire genetic endowment is at work. we are who and what we are in our inquisitive interaction with others. our minds exist only through this interaction. this statement says in effect that to philosophize became part of the process of human self-constitution and identification. the only referent of philosophy is the human being constituted in practical experiences. together with other surviving literacies, philosophic literacy will be one of many. the philosophy of the civilization of illiteracy will reflect the circumstances of work and life characteristic of the pragmatic framework. it will also be subjected to the severe test of market exigencies as these reflect efficiency expectations characteristic of the new scale of humankind. science can justify itself by the return in investment in new explanatory models. it also leads to new technologies and to higher levels of efficiency in human practical experiences. philosophy certainly has a different justification. philosophic necessity is evasive. short of living off the past, as literacy, religion, and art do, it needs to refocus on reason as the compass of human activity. focusing on alternative practical experiences, philosophy can practically help people to free themselves from the obsession with progress-seen as a sequence of ever-escalating records (of production, distribution, expectation)-and moreover, from the fear of all its consequences. it can also focus people's attention on alternatives to everything that affects the integrity of the species and its sense of quality, including the relation to their environment. when past, present, and future collapse into the illiterate frenzy of the instant, philosophy owes to those who question its articulations an honest approach to the question, "is there a future?" but as this future takes shape in the presence of humans partaking in the open world of networked interactions, banalities will not do. art(ifacts) and aesthetic processes confusing as it is, a snapshot of everything that today goes under the names art and literature conveys at least a sense of variety. forget the never-ending discussions of what qualifies as art and what does not. and forget the irreconcilable disputes over taste. what counts are practical experiences of self-identification as artist or writer, as well as involvement with artifacts eventually acknowledged within the experience as art or as literature, i.e., experiences through which the art public and readership are constituted. what comes to mind when we think about the art and literature of the civilization of illiteracy are not illiterate writers-although they exist-and not illiterate painters, composers, pianists, dancers, sculptors, or computer artists of all kinds. rather, disparate examples of works, each remarkable in its own way (or altogether unremarkable), but above all marked by characteristics that distinctly disconnect them from the literate experience of art and literature capture our memory. cautionary note ended. here are the examples: surviving auschwitz translated into a comic book parable populated by cats (depicting the nazis) and mice (depicting their victims); a grammy award returned by a famous singing group because someone else was doing the singing for them; the tear-jerkers from disney studios (a company whose audience is the world), classic stories or history turned into feminist or politically correct musicals; paintings by a controversial artist (self-made or made by the market?), fetching prices as high as overvalued shares of a new internet company, after he died of aids at an early age; the never-ending parade of computer animation miracles; the web sites of uninterrupted aesthetic frenzy that would have delighted andy warhol, one of the authentic founders of art in the civilization of illiteracy, if anyone could pinpoint the beginning of this civilization. these are examples. period. originality, aesthetic integrity, homogeneity, and artfulness are the exception. the process through which these examples were produced begs qualifiers different from art produced under the aegis of literate expectations. today, art is produced much faster, embodied-or disembodied-in and disseminated through more media, and exhausted in a shorter time-sometimes even before it comes into being! cycles of artistic style are abridged to the extreme of being impossible to define. artistic standards are leveled as the democracy of unlimited access to art and literature expands their public, without effecting a deep rapport, a long-lasting relation, or a heightened aesthetic expectation. never before has more kitsch been produced and more money spent to satisfy the obsession with celebrity that is the hallmark of this time. museums became the new palaces and the new shopping malls, opening branches all over the world, not unlike macdonalds and fashion retail stores. and never before were more technological and scientific means involved in the practical experience of art, always on the cutting edge, not only because art is traditionally associated with innovation. these new experiences make possible the transition from an individual, private, almost mystical, experience to a very public activity. open a virtual studio on the web, and chances are that many people will exercise their calling (or curiosity) on the digital canvas. not infrequently, this activity is carried on at the scale of the integrated world: major concerts viewed on several continents, attempts to integrate art from all nations into a super-work, the melange of literatures fused into new writing workshops, distributed, interactive installations united in the experience of digital networks. good taste and bad co-exist; pornography resides as bits and bytes in formats not different from those of the most suave examples from art history. the internet is the one and only uncensored place left on the earth. all these phenomena deserve to be understood as testimony to the change of the condition of human experience, and in the context of change from a literacy-dominated art to an art of many partial literacies, of mediations, and of relatively vague notions of value and significance. making and perceiving nature and culture meet in artistic practical experiences of human self- constitution, as they meet in any other human experience. what makes their meeting extraordinary is the fact that what we see, or hear, or listen to is the expression of their intersecting. through art, humans project sensorial, as well as cognitive, characteristics. the experience of structuring a category of artifacts, defined through their aesthetic condition, and the complementary experience of self-definition through aesthetically relevant actions constitute the realm of the artistic. in their interaction with objects and actions resulting from such experiences, individuals conjure meaning as they define themselves in respect to the experiences in a given context. like any other practical experience, the production of art belongs to the pragmatic framework. we are what we do: hunting, running, singing, drawing, telling stories, creating rhymes, performing a play. in their respective doings, artists identify themselves through particular aptitudes and skills: rhythm, movement, voice, sense of color, harmony, synchronism, contrast. the emergence of language and the consecutive experience of recording led to the association of skills with the writing of the language, that is, drawing and reading it to others, performing it in rituals. the domain of art seems to be characteristic only of the human species. since the practical experience of art is so close to our biogenetic structural reality, while at the same time constitutive of a non-existential domain, the making of art and the cultural appropriation of art are perceived as similar experiences. nevertheless, language exercised coordination for the simple reason that successive motivations of the art experience-such as the mytho-magical, practical, ritual, sexual, gnoseologic, political, or economic-and the underlying structure of art belong to different domains. the underlying structure of art defines its aesthetics. the underlying structure of magic, ritual, or the sexual defines their respective condition, as it expresses human understanding of the unknown, or the many aspects of sexuality. the interaction between artist and society, once markets emerged and art was acknowledged as a product with its own identity, resulted in specific forms of recurrence: recognition of the uniqueness of the work, of the artist, and of interpretive patterns. once the framework for recognizing artworks as merchandise was established, transactions in artworks became transactions in the artist-society relation, with a lot of give-and-take that was difficult, if not impossible, to encode. the nature of the relations can be partially understood by examining behaviors of artists, who are almost always seen as eccentric, a little off the middle of the road, and behaviors of the public. there is much instinctive interaction, and even more learned behavior, mediated through an experience constituted in and communicated through language. looking at a painting-once painting is acknowledged as artifact-is more than acknowledging its physical reality: the optical, and sometimes the textual, appearance, or the context of contemplation. the action of painting, sculpting, dancing, performing, or writing poetry or a novel is simultaneously an action of constituting oneself as artist or writer and projecting this self, as it results from the practical experience characteristic of such an endeavor, into the social space of interactions. this is why art is in the first place expression, and only secondly communication. this is also why looking at a work is to constitute the individual experience of context, in the first place, and only secondly to conjure and assign meaning. in both the action of painting and looking at a painting, biologically inherited characteristics, together with learned elements (skills), participate in the process of constituting the being (the painter and the onlooker, for instance) as both individual and member of the community. the natural and the acquired, or learned, interact. and in the course of time, the natural is educated, made aware of characteristics connected to culture rather than nature. two simultaneous processes take place: ) the recurrent interaction of those making art and those acknowledging it in their practical life; ) establishment of patterns of interpretation as patterns of interaction mediated by the artwork. language experiences take place in both processes. consequently, artistic knowledge is accumulated, and art-related communication becomes a well defined practical experience, leading to self-identification such as art historian, art theoretician, art critic, and the like. the nature and characteristics of the practical experience of art-related language ought to be examined so that we can reach an understanding of the circumstances under which they might change. art and language language is a multi-dimensional practical experience. in the interaction between individuals who produce something (in this case, works of art) and those who consume them, self-constitution through language makes coordination possible. production and consumption are other instances of human self-constitution. frequently, integration takes place in the process of exchanging goods or, at a more general level, values. drawing something, real or imaginary, and looking at the drawing, i.e., trying to recognize the drawn object, are structurally different experiences. these two practical experiences can be related in many ways: display the drawing and the object drawn side-by-side; explain the drawing to the onlookers; attach a description. here is where difficulties start to accumulate. the artifact and the experience leading to it appear as different entities. descriptions (what is on paper or on canvas) lead to identification, but not to interaction, the only reason behind the artistic experience. language substitutes its own condition for the entire physical-biogenetic level of interaction. it overplays the cultural, which is consequently made to represent the entire experience. people speak about works of art, write about art, and read writings about art as though art had no phylogenetic dimension, only a phylocultural reality. language's coordinative function is relied upon because of the dissimilarity between the practical experiences of making art and of appropriating it in the cultural environment. through cultural experiences, the coordinating function of language extends to facilitating new forms of practical experiences associated with making art: instruction, use of technology, and cooperation peculiar to artmaking. it also facilitates experiences of appropriation in the art market, the constitution of institutions dedicated to supporting education in art, the politics of art, and forms of public evaluation. art implicitly expresses awareness, on the part of artists and public, of how persons interacting through artistic expression are changed through the interactions. language, especially in forms associated with literacy, makes this awareness of reciprocal influence explicit. in the civilization of illiteracy, all non-literate means of information, communication, and marketing (e.g., songs, film, video, interactive multimedia) take it upon themselves to reposition art as yet another practical experience of the pragmatics of high efficiency peculiar to a humankind that reached yet another critical mass. it was not unusual for an artist in the literacy-dominated past to go through very long cycles in preparing for the work, and for the work itself to unfold after years of effort. it is quite the contrary in the case of the instantaneous gratification of a video work, of an installation, or of gestural art. within the pragmatics of an underlying structure reflected in literacy, art was as confined as the experience of language, which represented its underpinning. the pragmatics of the civilization of illiteracy makes the experience of art part of the global experience. many people wonder whether the basic, though changing, relation between art and language, in particular art and literacy, is unavoidable-furthermore, whether coordination can be assumed by a sign system other than literate language. in prelude to answering this question, i would like to point out that the influence of language on the arts, and even on the language arts (poetry, drama, fiction), was hailed by as many as deplored it. to account for attitudes in favor of or against an art connected to, or resulting from, high levels of literacy, i.e., of favoring an art emancipated from the domination of language, means to account for the change of art and its perceived meaning. the entire artistic effort to transcend the figurative and the narrative, to explore the abstract and the gestural, to explore its own reality, and to establish new languages testifies to this striving towards emancipation. ascertaining that the art- language relation is not inescapable does not purport the invention of a new relation as an alternative to what culture acknowledges as the relatively necessary dependence of the two. as with the case of other forms of practical experiences discussed against the background of literacy, examination of directions of change and the attempt to conjure their meaning is required. human beings are agents of change and, at the same time, outside observers of the process of change. an observer can distinguish between the recurrent influence of the human biogenetic structure and the interactions based on this structure. an observer can also account for the role of the phylocultural, in particular the interactions this triggers. restricted to the literate means of communication that i chose for presenting my arguments, i want to show that art and its interpretation are no longer the exclusive domain of literate language. alternative domains of creation and interpretation are continuously structured as we project ourselves in new practical experiences. moreover, the eternal conflict inherent in art experiences, between what is and what unfolds, best expressed in the quest for innovation, integrates aspects of the conflict between literacy-dominated pragmatics and pragmatics dominated by illiteracy. were i an artist, and were we all visually attuned, this topic could have been explained through one or several artworks, or through the process leading to an artwork. the role of processing current practical experiences of art needs to be properly highlighted. exacerbated in the self-consciousness of art in the age of illiteracy, artistic processes take precedence over artifacts; the making of art becomes more important than the result. artists would say that we exist not only in the environment of our language projections, but probably just as much (if not more) in the environment of our art projections. impatience and autarchy the prophets of the end of the arts (hegel was their most convincing, but most misunderstood, representative) were so confused by changes in the arts that, instead of approaching the dynamics of the process, they concentrated on the logical possibility that artistic practice is self-devouring and self-destructive. the initial end-of-the-arts prophecies were delivered during a time of relatively mild change in the status of the aesthetic appropriation of reality. recent prophecies occurred in a very different context. it was only after world war i that aesthetic experiences really difficult to connect and integrate in an accepted explanation changed our notion and expectations of art. with the experience of disposable language, which the dadaist movement submitted to a community already skeptical of language, came the experience of disposable art. while literacy supplied a framework for (almost) consistent representations of values and norms, human practice at the border between literacy and a-literacy introduced and fostered inconsistency, believed to be the last resort of individual freedom. eclecticism and consumption joined in this experience, since mixing without system or justification of any kind is like stating that everything is worth whatever people make of it, and therefore they want to have it. re-evaluation of available art, good or bad, aesthetically relevant or kitsch, significant or insignificant, is part of this change. once re-evaluation started, the processes of artmaking and aesthetic appropriation grew relatively disconnected. where language, through literacy as a generalized medium of interaction, maintained cultural distinctions, such as the ones embodied in our notions of perspective, resemblance, and narration, the new art experience introduced distinctions at the natural level, such as instinct, energy, choice, and change. for as long as literacy maintained control and integration, viewers, irritated by conventions foreign to them, physically attacked works (such as impressionist paintings) resulting from artistic practices different from those congruent to the practice of language and to the associated expectations of seeing. art under the scrutiny of literacy is always model driven. once the necessity of literacy as the only integrating mechanism was challenged by the need to maintain levels of efficiency for which language is not well equipped, new forms of artistic appropriation of reality and a new notion of reality itself became possible. model was replaced by iconoclasm. walter benjamin captured some of these changes in the formula of "art in the age of its mechanical reproduction." the end of the aura, as benjamin has it, is actually the aura's shift from the artifact to the process and the artist. it corresponds not to the end of art's uniqueness, but to the artist's determination to get rid of all restrictions (of subject matter, material, technique) and to ascertain artistic freedom as the goal of artistic experience. but there are yet more possibilities for the emancipation of artists and their work. as we enter the age of electronic reproduction, massive communication that supports interactive multimedia, and information integration through networks (adapted for pipelining data and all kinds of images), we encounter such possibilities. we are also subjected to new experiences-for instance, simultaneous transmission of art and interpretation, moreover the possibility to contribute our own interpretation, to become co-makers of whatever is presented to us through the very malleable digital media. technology and change of aesthetic goals affect the scale of artistic experience, as well as the relation between artists and the world. projects such as walter de maria's lightening field and christo's umbrella project (extended over california and japan) are examples of both the change of scale and of new interpretation processes. they are also vivid proof that globality permeates art at each level. so does the sense of rapid change, the acknowledgment and fear of perishability, and the open-endedness of the practical experience of making art. i doubt that anyone could have captured this sense as well as the web site on which millions of viewers could experience the wrapping and unwrapping of the reichstag in berlin. christo and jeanne-claude might remain the authors of record, but the event grew beyond the notion of authorship. the artistic experience of the civilization of illiteracy is also characterized by impatience and autarchy. things happen fast and relatively independent from one another. artistic experiment always embodied characteristics of the practical experience of human self-constitution. from petroglyphic expression to the art of our age, this happens again and again, obviously in context-dependent forms. the dutch and flemish baroque artists celebrated results of industriousness through mythological themes. before that, religion dominated up to and through the renaissance. in the context of african, asian, and south american art, the forms were different, but the pragmatic stamp is faultlessly evident. no wonder that in the settled age of literacy, art had a structure similar to that of the practical experience of literate language, regardless of the richness of its forms. it even called for experimental settings reminiscent of industry, or of the university context, as we know from art history. and it was sanctioned on the same pragmatic criteria as any other literate experiment: success (it was useful), or failure (it was discarded). accordingly, it implied sequential development and a rather settled succession of operations. as artistic experimentation took place in line with all other experiments characteristic of the pragmatic context of literacy, it even resulted in an industrial model based on modularity, which the bauhaus enthusiastically promoted. a number of shops produced thousands of ready-made artistic objects with a clear goal in mind: value through usefulness, function over form, functionality as aesthetics at work. artistic practice and appropriation were coordinated through the still literate language of the market. art in the civilization of illiteracy is less a matter of invention and discovery, as it was in the civilization of literacy, and more one of selection, framing, and endless variation. since the end of the last century, artists started breaking away from some of the characteristics implicit in the literate experience, such as hierarchy, centralism, and nationalism. this is not a time for rules and laws, unless they are taken from the books of the past, relativized and integrated in the tools needed in artistic practice, made into underlying principles. appropriation is not of the object, but of the method, process, and context. the tools of this civilization are endowed with the literacy required for certain partial experiences. artists, instead of acquiring skills, are trained to master such tools. in his series of ready-mades, marcel duchamp anticipated much more than a style. he anticipated a new kind of artistic practice and a different interrelation among the individuals involved in producing-literally selecting from the infinite repertory of ready- mades and framing-and the individuals who appropriate the artifact for whatever reason (aesthetic satisfaction, status, investment, irrational drive to collect). today, artists are more dependent on others involved in the pragmatic framework of the time. this dependency is the result of the more integrated nature of human effort. everything that is eventually built into the work, regardless of whether this work is an object, an action, or a process, results from other human practical experiences. the time of the artist's inventing his own pigments, making his own canvasses and frames, that is, the time of the artist's integral ownership and quasi- independence, was already over with the advent of industrial production. in the context of mediation and task distribution, new levels of dependencies are established and reflected in the work. video art, photography, film, computer-based installations, and much of the computer music, interactive multimedia, and virtual art experiences are examples of such dependencies. simultaneously they are examples of the new forms of conflict and tension that mark the artistic experience. artistic freedom and self- determination are only apparent. the limits of the many elements involved in an artistic experience affect choice and artistic integrity. free choice, a romantic notion, is a delusion under these new circumstances. there is no censorship on the internet, but that does not make the medium totally free. the forms of integration in the guise of new science and technology are probably less troublesome than integration through language. they are, however, much more constricting and restrictive because they derive from elements over which the artist has little, if any, control. the growth of non-verbal modes of human expression, communication, and interaction introduces elements of mediation. these can be seen as intermediaries, such as images to be integrated, sounds, political actions (a sit-in is the best known example) that are involved in the practical experience of art in all its phases. formulation of aesthetic goals, in the form of video improvisations, diagrams, multimedia installations, computer-generated simulations, interpretation of an artwork (animation of a painting or sculpture, for example), and processes of meaning realization and valuation (represented by market transactions, insurance estimates, political relevance, ideological tendency, cultural significance) use mediating elements. none of christo's elaborate and very comprehensive projects could have been carried through without such means. keijo yamamoto's widely celebrated virtual performance could not come into being without an understanding of all that it takes to establish a worldwide network art. art, as a human experience, emphasizes its own transitory nature and becomes less permanent than in previous stages of artistic practice, but far more pervasive. still, to qualify this process as mere democratization of the arts would be misleading. that supermarkets are full of meat, oranges, cheese, and all kinds of graphic signs should not be interpreted as the democratization of meat, oranges, cheese, or graphic signs. the majority of artists still strive for recognition. to the extent that their own recognition as different means that there are people who do not qualify for the same recognition and reward, there is no equality in the realm of art. on the other hand, the pressures of leveling and the iconoclastic component of artistic experience reduce the passion that drove artists in the past, or at least changes the focus of this passion. although the artistic process has changed in line with other changes in the systematic domain of human experience in general, it still resists doing away with the terms for artistic recognition. the uncertainty (including that of recognition, but not limited to it) projected in the work qualifies it as an expression of individualism. the heuristic attempt to establish new patterns of human interaction through art reflects the uncertainty. to own art that is stored in units of information and in invisible processing instructions means something totally different from being in possession of unique artifacts embodied in matter, regardless of how much they are affected by the passing of time. the recurrent phylogenetic and phylocultural structure, on which the artist-public interaction was built in the pragmatic framework fostering literacy, is questioned from within artistic practice. art is only indirectly affected by the new scale of humankind, as it tries to acknowledge this scale. but the efficiency that this scale requires is reflected in the means available to support experiences of human self-constitution as artist. related to scale are the notions of survival and well being. people do not need art to survive, and the majority of people on earth are living proof of this assertion. but in a broader sense, life that does not have an artistic dimension is not human. that is what we have learned or what we want to believe. to express oneself in forms involving an artistic element is part of self- constitution as a human being, distinct from the rest of the natural realm. moreover, to have access to the richness of other expressive forms-rhythms, colors, shapes, movements, metaphors, sounds, textures-is to reascertain a sense of belonging. in this vein, the right to affluence implicit in the civilization of illiteracy extends well into the domain of the aesthetic. new artistic structures and means are continuously submitted and consumed. some end up in oblivion; others suggest dynamic patterns. freed from the constraints of a dominant literacy, artistic practice is becoming more and more like any other form of human experience, emancipated from the obsession of universality and eternity (embodied in museums and art collections), from centralism (expressed in such elements as the vanishing point, the tonal center of music, the architectural keystone). true, a great deal of narcissism has come to the forefront. and there is a tendency to break rules for the sake of breaking them, and to make the act of breaking the rule the object of artistic interest. in transcending old media boundaries, production and appropriation come closer together. the person making the artwork already integrates the appropriation in the making. thus a complicity beyond and above language is established in defiance of time, space, and the universal. nevertheless, artists still want to be eternal! art establishes itself on a plurality of levels of interaction. this is its main characteristic, since the cultural level supported by literacy is breaking the bonds of a generic, pervasive literacy. several specialized languages mediate at various levels. the language of art history addresses professionals at one level, and laymen at another, through an array of journals and magazines. art theory speaks to experts and, in a different tone, to neophytes who themselves will judge or produce artworks. the language of materials and techniques delves into particulars beyond oil, canvas, melody, beat, and rhythm that a generally literate onlooker or listener would not readily comprehend. the art of the civilization of illiteracy partly reprocesses previous artistic experience. by no accident, the entire modern movement looked back at ancient art forms and exotic art and appropriated their themes and structural components. in this experience, cultural conventions expressed through literacy (such as the recurrent linear perspective, illusory space, or color symbolism) are of secondary import. the goal is to account for the tension between motives (the magical, the sacred, or the mythic), the realistic image, and abstract extensions. the experience, which language inadequately reported, but could not substitute, is the subject of artistic investigation. african and chinese masks, russian icons, mayan artifacts, arabic decorative motifs, and japanese syllabaries are invoked with the intention of arousing awareness of their specific pragmatic context, which in turn will influence new artistic practical experiences. this is art after art. evidently, russian avant-garde, french cubism, american conceptualism, and all the other isms cannot be seen as ordinary extensions to experiences alien to tradition, or as attempts to loosen the ties between art and literacy in conscious preparation for relative emancipation from language. this phase has its own, new, recurring interactions. the post-modern is probably the closest we have come to the expression of awareness and values about art in art, a generic hall of mirrors. artistic practice led to a change in the structure of the domain: art assumes a self-referential function and submits the results to the public at large (literate or not). to look at post-modern art and architecture as only illustrative of cultural quotes, and possible self-irony, would mean to miss the nature of the experience projected in making the new artifacts. it is an undoing of the past in order to achieve a new freedom (from norm, ideal, value, morality, even aesthetics). the concept of art, resulting from the theoretic practice focused on accumulated artistic experience in its broadest sense, is subjected to change. artifacts resulting from the practical experience of artists constitute a domain congruent to the aesthetic dimension of human interaction in the social environment. this art is illiterate in the sense that it refuses previous norms and values, comments upon them from within, and projects a very individual language, with many ad hoc rules, and a vocabulary in continuous change. think about how, in the post-modern, the condition and function of drawing change. drawing no longer serves as an underlying element of painting, architecture, or sculpture. rather, drawing ascertains its own aesthetic condition. in a broader sense, it is as though art continuously generates its definition and redefinition, and allows those involved in artistic practice to constitute themselves as entities of change more than as manufacturers of aesthetically relevant objects. in a similar way, harmony is re- evaluated in the experience of music. the specializations within artistic practice (e.g., drawing, harmony, composition) correspond to an incredible diversification of skills and techniques, to the creation and adoption of new tools (digital devices included), and awareness of the market. those who know the language of an artifact, or of a series of relatively similar artifacts, are not necessarily those who will appropriate and interpret the artifact. in this age, aesthetic expression becomes an issue of information processing resulting from the systematic deconstruction of the aesthetic practice of the age dominated by literacy. images and sounds are derived from various experiences (photographic, mechanical, electronic). spontaneity is complemented by elaboration. previous stylistic characteristics- spontaneity is only the most evident-are reified and framed in new settings together with the interpretation. they are also reified in artistic expression as the gesture of making the work and the act of submitting it to the public with the aim of pleasing, provoking, criticizing, ridiculing, confounding, challenging, uplifting, or degrading (intentionally or not). post-modern artistic practice results from the display of broken conventions and rules, or of disparate and sometimes antagonistic characteristics. suffice it to point out how the private (the personal side of art, layout strategies, art of proportions, drawing, symbolism, harmony, and musical or architectural composition) becomes public. real life, an mtv series, is the personal drama of five young people trying to make it in new york city. the script was their day-to-day existence, the attempt to harmonize their conflicting lifestyles in the elegant loft that mtv provided. when the director fell in love with one of the characters, he was brought in front of the camera's merciless eye. likewise, the artist-painter, composer, sculptor, dancer, or film director-submits the secrets of his experience to the viewer, the listener, and the spectator. the artifact comes to the market delivered with its self-criticism, even with a time bomb set for the hour after which the work has become valueless. the making of art made public is at the same time its unmaking. appropriation, one of the preferred methods of the art experience, is based on a notion of aesthetic or cultural complicity. the illiterate public accepts a game of allusions. the alluded must be present in the work, because in the absence of a unifying literacy, there is no shared background one can count on. insinuations, innuendo, and provocation are practiced parallel to the quote around which the work establishes its own identity. art is infinitely fragmented today. no direction dominates, or at least no longer than the minutes of fame that warhol prophesied. there is a real sense of artistic glut and a feeling of ethical confusion: is anything authentic? the public is lured into the work, sometimes in ridiculous forms (a painting with live characters touching the viewers, pinching them, reaching for pocketbooks, or spitting chewing gum); other times in naive ways (through mirrors, interactive dialogue on computer screens, live installations in a zoo, live keyboards in a music hall). art is delivered unfinished, as a point of entry, and as an open challenge to change. to copyright openness and sign it is as absurd, or sublime, as delivering beautiful empty bars of music to serve as a score for symphonic interpretation or a multimedia event. the copy is better than the original within artistic practice, as much as within any other practical form of human projection, we notice the transition from a centralized system of reference and values to a system of parallel values. in the continuum generically qualified in the market as art- and what cannot be declared art today?-there is a noticeable need for intrinsic relations of patterns: what belongs together, and how commonalties are brought about. and there is a need for disparity and distinction: how do we distinguish among the plenty accumulated in a never-ending series of shows when all that changes is the name on the canvas? the same applies to photography, video art, theater, dance, minimalist music, and the architecture of deconstruction. an evident tension results, not different from the one we perceive in the market of stocks and options. the dilemma is obvious: where to invest, if at all, unless someone has insider information (what is hot?). this is not an expression of an ideal, as the values of literacy marked art to be, but of alternatives delivered together with the uncertainty that characterizes the new artistic experience as one of obsession with recognition in an environment of competition that often becomes adversarial. (the umbrellas that the parisians used to attack impressionist canvases at the turn of the century are children's toys in comparison to the means of aesthetic annihilation used in our time.) becoming a practical experience focused on its own condition and history, this kind of art affects the appropriation of its products in the sense of increasing artificiality-the shared phylocultural component-and decreasing naturalness. accordingly, interpretive practice is focused on establishing distinctions (often hair- splitting), more and more within the artistic domain, in disregard of message, form, ethical considerations, and even skill. this is the type of art whose photographic reproduction is always better than the original. this is the music that always sounds crisper on a compact disk. this is the art whose simuli of the show, performance, dance, or concert on television are even better than the production. meaning comes about in an individual experience of relating distinctions, not common experiences. the specialization of art, no less than the specialization of sciences and humanities, results in the formation of numerous networks of recurrent or non-recurrent interaction. examples of this are layering, tracing from photo-projection, expanding the strategies of collage (to include heterogeneous sources), mixing the elaborate and the spontaneous (in dance, performance, video, even architecture). the pencil and brush are replaced by the scanner and by memes of operations favoring minute detail over meaningful wholes. music is generated by means of sampling and synthesizing. we deal with a phenomenon of massive decentralization-each is potentially an artist-and generalized integration through networks of interaction, within which museums, galleries, and auction houses represent major nodes. it is not unusual to see the walls of a museum become the support for a work whose life ends with the end of the show, if not earlier. many musical compositions never make it to paper, forever sentenced to tape or compact disk. composers who do not know how to read or write music rely on the musical knowledge integrated in their digital instruments. with the advent of technological means for the production and dissemination of images, sounds, and performances begins an age of a sui generis artistic environment of life that is easy to adapt to individual preference, easy to change as the preference changes. the new artistic practice results in the demythification of artists and their art. art itself is demythified at the same time. as a consequence of electronic reproducibility and infinite manipulation, art forms a new library of images with memory devices loaded with scanned art, but with no books. sound samples are the library of the composer active in the civilization of illiteracy. using networking as a matter of practicability, people could display, in places of living or work, images from any collection, or listen to music from any ongoing concert around the globe. they could also change the selection without touching the display. they could redo each artwork as they please, painting over its digital double in the act of appropriating it, probably beyond what any artist of the past would ever accept, or any artist of the present would care for. music could be subjected to similar appropriations. as a matter of fact, televised images are already manipulated and r-written. dvd-three letters standing for digital video data- yet to make it into the everyday jargon reflecting our involvement with new media, will probably replace the majority of televised images. with the advent of digital video delivered via the familiar compact disk format, a tool as powerful as any tv production facility will support artistic innovation that we still associate with high budgets and glamorous hollywood events. art, as much as any other form of human interaction in the civilization of illiteracy, involves shorter cycles of exchange and contact at each of its levels: meaning constitution, symbolism, education, merchandise. the eternity and transcendence of art, notions and expectations associated with the literate experience, become nostalgic references of a past pragmatics. viewers consume art almost at the rhythm at which they consume everything else. art consumes itself, exhausting a model even before it can be publicly acknowledged as one. in its new manifestations, not all necessarily in digital format, but many in the transitory existence of networks, it either comes in an abundance, which contradicts the literacy-based ideal of uniqueness, or in short-lived singular modes, which contradicts the ideal of permanency. strategies of over-writing, over-dancing, over-sounding, and over-impression are applied with frenzy. grid structures made visible become containers for very fluid forms of expression, bringing to mind the fluidity of chinese calligraphy. afro-american street dancers, west european ballet groups, and theaters in which the human body is integrated into the more comprehensive body of the show, practice these strategies for different purposes and with different aesthetic goals. there is also a lot of parody, and fervor, in expanding one medium into another: music becomes painting or sculpture; dance becomes image; sculpture lends its volume to theatrical projects or to d renditions, virtual or real events that integrate the natural and the artificial. in this vast effort of exploration, authenticity is rarely secured. photography, especially in its digital forms, would be impossible without the industry it created; nor would painting, sculpture, music, or computer-based interactive art (cyberart, another name for virtual reality) without the industries they stimulated. the legitimate market of fakes and the illegitimate market of originals meet in the illiterate obsession with celebrity, probably the most fleeting of all experiences. the extension of art as practice to art as object, resulting from the aesthetic experience in the space of reproductions better than originals, is challenged by the intensions of the act (process). intensity is accepted more and more as the essence of the artistic practical experience, impossible to emulate in a reproduction, and actually excluded in the perfection of a concert transposed onto a compact disk, for example, or of images on cd-rom and dvd disks. when each of us can turn into a gazelle, a lobster, a stone, a tree, a pianist, a dancer, an oboe, or even an abstract thought by donning gloves and goggles, we are projected in a space of personal fantasy. creativity in virtual reality, including creativity of interaction on the internet, invites play. it can be in someone's private theater, sex parlor, or drug experience. as an interactive medium, virtual reality can be turned into an instrument for knowing others as they unfold their creativity in the virtual space shared. as opposed to art in its conventional form, virtual reality supports real-time interactions. the artist and the work can each have its own life. or the artist can decide to become the work and experience the perception of others. no rembrandt or cézanne, not even the illiterate graffiti artists in the new york subway system could experience such things. surprisingly, this experience is not limited only to non-language based experiences, but also to the art of writing and reading. embodied in avatars, many would-be writers contribute their images or lines to ongoing fictional situations on chat sites on the world wide web. while art is freeing itself from literacy, literature does not seem to have the same possibility. or is this another prejudice we carry with us from the pragmatic framework of literacy-defined self-constitution? the borderline, if any, between art and writing is becoming fuzzier by the hour. a nose by any other name the art of the word, of language, as exemplified in poetry, novels, short stories, plays, and movie scripts, takes place in a very strange domain of our existence. why strange? the languages of poetry and of our routine conversations differ drastically. how they are different is not easy to explain. many a writer and interpreter of poetry, plays, and stories (short or long) used their wisdom to explain that gertrude stein's "a rose is a rose is a rose," (or for that matter, shakespeare's "a rose by any other name...") is not exactly the same as "a nose is a nose is a nose..." (or "a nose by any other name..."). although the similarities between the two are so evident that, without a certain shared experience of poetry, some of us would qualify both as identically silly or identically strange, there is a literary quality that distinguishes them. the art of written words, usually called literature, involves using language for practical purposes other than projecting our common experiences and sharing them on a social level. nabokov once told his students that literature was not born on the day someone cried "wolf! wolf!" out of the neander valley as a wolf ran after him (or her). literature was born when no wolf chased that person. "between the wolf in the tall grass and the wolf in the tall story, there is a shimmering go-between. that go-between, that prism [nabokov qualified proust as a prism] is the art of literature." this is not the place to discuss the definition of literature, or to set one forth. it is clear, nevertheless, that literature is not the mere use of language. by a definition still to be challenged, there is no literature outside written language. (the term oral literature is regarded as a sad oxymoron by linguists who specialize in oral cultures.) furthermore, there is no appropriation of the art of language, of its aesthetic expressiveness, without understanding language, a necessary but still insufficient condition. (it is insufficient because to understand language is not equal to using language creatively). partisans of literacy will say that there is no literature without literacy. however, language use in literature is not the same as language use in daily life, in the self-constitutive experience of living and surviving. when human experience is projected in language and language becomes a medium for new experiences, there is no distinction in the experience. the syncretic character of language as it is formed in a particular pragmatic framework corresponds to the syncretic character of human activity in its very early stages. distinctions in language are introduced once this experience of self-constitution is segmented and various forms of labor division are brought about by expectations of efficiency. the scale of humankind, whatever it might be at a given moment, is reflected in distinctions in the pragmatic framework, which, in turn, determines distinctions in human expression and communication through language. survival becomes a form of human practice, losing its primeval condition when it implies the experience of cooperation, and the realization, though limited, of what transcends immediacy. killing an animal to satisfy hunger does not require awareness of needs and the means to fulfill them, as much as it requires natural qualities such as instinct, speed, and strength. noticing that the flesh of an animal hit by lightening does not rot like the flesh of slaughtered animals requires a different awareness. the first reports about the immediate sequence of cause and effect; the second, about the ability to infer from one practical domain to another. so does the perceived need to share and expand experience. in the oral phase, and in oral cultures still extant, the immediate and the remote (fear, for example, and the magical addressed with the hope of help) are addressed in the same language. the poetry of myths, or what is made of them as examples of poetry, is actually the poetry of the pragmatics pertinent to efficiency expectations of a small scale of humanity conveyed in myth. rules for successful action were conveyed orally from one generation to another. only much later in time, and due to demand for higher efficiency and the expanding scale, do different forms of practical experience separate, but not yet radically. wolf is wolf, whether it is running after someone, or it is only a product of someone's imagination, or it is displayed in a cage in the zoo, or it is in the process of becoming extinct. behind each of these situations lies an experience of conflict, on whose basis symbolism (rooted in zoomorphic, anthropomorphic, geometric, astrologic, or religious forms) is established. the use of language symbols is structurally identical to the use of astronomic, mathematical, or mytho-magical symbols in that it uses the conventional nature of the representation in sign processes (generation of new symbols, associations among symbols, symbolic inferences, etc.). crying wolf started early literature results from the perceived need to transcend the immediate and to make possible an experience in a time and space of choice, or in the space and time of language itself. naming a place florence, brugges, xanadu, bombay, paris, damascus, rio de janeiro, or beijing in a story derives from a motivation different from how names were given to real cities, to rivers, to mountains, even to human beings. names are usually identifiers resulting from the pragmatic context. they become part of our environment, constituting the markers for the context, the stones and barbwire fence of the borders of the experiences from which they result. in each name of a person, place, or animal in what is called real life, as well as in fiction (poetry, plays, novels), the practical experience of human self-constitution creeps in. when readers of a novel, audiences at a play, or listeners at a poetry recitation say that they learn something about the place, characters, or subject, they mean that they learn something (however limited) about the practical experience involved in constituting that novel, performance, or poem. whether they really know about something, or whether they care to know it, is a different question. usually, they do not know or care to know because, being born in a language, moreover being subjected to literacy, they believe that things are real because they are in language. they take the world for granted because words describe it. with such a frame of mind, things become even more real when they are written about. some people are educated to accept some things as more real than others: historical accounts, geographic accounts, biographies, diaries, books, images on a screen. more often than not, people walk through verona in order to see where shakespeare's famous pair of enamored adolescent lovers swore undying love to each other. they wind up in front of some ridiculous plaque identifying the place. and because the incident has gone down in writing, they accept the place as real. a picture taken there seems to extend the reality of romeo and juliet into their lives. the same can be said of bran castle and the fictional dracula; likewise for the so-called holy places in jerusalem, reputed cafés in paris, or sites associated with the name of al capone. real life eventually makes the distinction between fiction, the fiction of fiction, the tourism of the fiction of fiction, and reality. there is a borderline between the practice of writing (fiction or not) and the appropriation of literature by critics, historians of literature, linguists, tourist organizations, and readers. in the experience of writing, authors constitute themselves by projecting, in selected words and sentences, the ability to map between the world they live in and the world of language. in the experience of reading, one projects the ability to understand language and recreate a world in a text, not necessarily the same world in which writers constitute their identity. the process comprises a reduction, from the infinity of situations, words, ideas, characters, stylistic choices, and rhythms, to the uniqueness of the text, and the extension from one text to an infinity of understandings of the many components of a printed book or performed play. in this process, new reductions are made possible. the history of literature and language is well known for the stereotypes of systematic scholarly exposition. literary critics proceed with a different strategy of reduction; book marketers end up summarizing a novel in a catch- phrase. what we learn from this is that there are several ways to encode, decode, and then encode again thoughts, emotions, reactions, and whatever else is involved in the experience of writing and reading. the history of literature is connected to the diversification of language in more ways than traditional historic accounts lead us to believe. even the emergence of genres and subgenres can be better understood if we consider the practice of literature in relation to the many forms of human practice. my intention is not to endorse the convention of realism, one of the weak explanatory models that theoreticians and historians of art and literature have used for a long time. the goal is to explain and document that various relations between spoken and written language and the language of literature lead to various writing conventions. in the syncretic phase of human practice, the relation was based on identity. in other words, the two forms of language were not distinguishable. language was one. distinctions in practical experiences resulted in distinctions in the self-constitution of the human being through a language that captured similarities and differences, and became a medium for conventions. these eventually led to symbols. symbolism was acknowledged in writing, itself an expression of conventions. the language of astronomy, agriculture, and alchemy (to refer here to incipient science, technology, and magic) was only as remote from normal language as normalcy was from observing stars, cultivating soil, or trying to turn lead into gold, conjuring the benevolence of magic forces. reading today whatever survived or was reconstituted from these writings is an experience in poetry and literature. unless the reader has a specific interest in the subject matter (as a scientist, philosopher, historian, or linguist), these writings no longer recall the wolf, but the art of expression in language. they are considered poetry or literature, not because they contain wrong ideas or false scientific hypotheses-their practical experience is in a pragmatic context to which we have difficulty connecting-but because their language testifies to an experience of transcending the borders between human practice and establishing a systematic, encompassing domain which now seems grounded in a fictional world. religious writings (the old testament, tao) are also examples. the same happens to the child who saw a wolf (the child did not really see a wolf, he was bored and wanted attention), started crying wolf, and when finally adults show up, there is no wolf. "oh, he likes to tell stories," or "she has a wild imagination. she will probably become a writer." in some cases, elves, ghosts, or witches are blamed for a sudden wind, changes in weather, or trees creaking in a storm or under the weight of snow, and this is reported as private fiction. artistic writing and appropriation form a domain of recurrences at least as much as painting, dancing, observing stars, solving mathematical equations, or designing new machines do. literature involves a convention of complicity, something along the line of "let us not confuse our lives with descriptions of them," although we may decide to live in the fiction. as with any convention, people do not accept it in the letter, spirit, or both, and wind up crying with the unhappy hero, laughing with the comic character or at somebody. in other words, people live the fiction or derive some lesson from it, or identify with characters, in effect, rewriting them in the ink or blood of their own lives. meta-literature the recurring interaction between a writer (indirectly present) and a reader takes place through writing and reading. it is proof of the practicality of the literary experience and an expression of its degree of necessity. the extent of the interaction is thus the expression of the part of the practical experience that is shared, and for what purpose. this is illustrated by the uses we give to literature: education, indoctrination, moral edification, illustration, or entertainment. becoming who they are, the writer and reader project themselves in the reading through a process of dual reciprocal constitution, changing when circumstances change, objectified in the forms through which literature is acknowledged. it has a definite learned quality, in contrast to the arts of images, sounds, and movements, in which the natural component (as in seeing, hearing, moving) made the art possible. accordingly, artistic writing has an instrumental characteristic and exercises virtual coordination of the experience of assigning meaning. in some ways, this instrumental characteristic begs association to music. to someone watching how the process unfolds, it seems that the recurrent interaction is triggered less by the dynamics of writing and reading, and more decisively by what comprises the act of instilling meaning of the objectified practice of the poem, play, script, novel, or short story. the fact is that language, more than natural systems of signs, pertains to an acquired structure of interactions, as humans progress from one scale to another, within which meaning is conjured. language is influenced by the conditions of existence (human biology), but not entirely reducible to them. it constitutes as many domains of interaction as there are experiences requiring language, a subset of language, or artifacts similar to language. the claim made from the perspective of literacy was, and still goes strong, that the universality of language is reflected in the universality of literature, and thus the universality of conveying meaning. actually, to write literature means to un-write the language of everyday use, to empty it of the reference to behavior, and to structure it as an instrument of a different projection of the human being. it means understanding the process through which meaning is conjured as human self-constitution takes place. while it is true that when someone reads a text for the first time, the only reading is one that refers to the language of that particular reader's experience (what is loosely called knowledge of language); once the convention is uncovered, personal experience takes second place, and a new experience, deriving from the interaction, begins. the acquaintance makes the interaction possible; but it might as well stand in the way of its characteristic unfolding as a literary experience. sometimes, the language of artistic wording establishes a self-contained universe of self-reference and becomes not only the message, but also the context. the practical experience of writing is discovery of universes with such qualities. the practical experience of reading is populating such a universe through personal projection that will test its human validity. both writer and reader create themselves and ascertain their identities in the interaction established through the text. it goes without saying that while literature is not a copy (mimesis) of the world, neither does it literally constitute something in opposition to it. in a larger framework, literature is but one among many means of practical human experiences resulting, like any other form of objectification, in the alienating process of writing, reading, criticizing, interpreting, and rewriting. alienation comes from giving life to entities that, once expressed, start their own existence, no longer under the control of the writer or reader. for as long as language dominated human praxis according to the prescriptions of literacy, we could not understand how writing could be an experience in something other than language, or how it could be performed independent of language-based assumptions. since the turn of the century, this situation has changed. initially, there was a reaction to language: dada was born when a knife was used to select a word from a larousse dictionary. between the action and its successive interpretations, many layers of practical experiences with language accumulated. the literature of the absurd went further and suggested situations only vaguely defined with the aid of language, actually defined in defiance of language conventions. there is more silence in the plays of beckett and ionesco than there are words. before becoming what many readers have regarded as only the expression of the poetics of self-reference, the experience of concrete poetry attempted to make poetry visual, musical, or even tactile. happening was based on structuring a situation, with the implicit assumption that our domains of interactions are not defined only through language. the modern renewal of dance, emancipated from the condition of illustration and narration, and from the stifling conventions of classic ballet; the new conventions of film facilitated by understanding the implicit characteristics of the medium; and the expressive means of electronic performances only add to the list of examples characteristic of a literature trying to free itself from language and its literate rules. or, in order to avoid the animistic connotation (literature as a living entity trying to do something), we should see the phenomena just mentioned as examples of new human experiences: constitution of the literary work as its own language, with the assumption that the process of appropriation would result in the realization of that particular language. a realization, in literature as much as in science, is a description of a system which would behave as though it had this description. accordingly, the day described in joyce's ulysses (thursday, june , ) was not a sequential description, but a mosaic in which rules of language were continuously broken and new rules introduced. there is no character by the name of ulysses in the book. the title and the chapter subtitles were meant to enforce the suggestion of a parallel to homer's odyssey. ("a beautiful title," wrote furetière almost years ago, "is the real pimp of the book.") language-rather, the appearance of language-provided the geometry of the mosaic. for joyce, writing turned out to be a practical experience in segmenting space and time in order to extract relations (hopeless past, ridiculous tragic present, pathetic future), an aesthetic goal for which the common use of language is ill equipped. the allusion to the odyssey is part of the strategy, shared in advance with the critics, a para-text, following the text as a context for interpretation. but before him, kafka and others, following a tradition that claims cervantes' don quixote as a model, seemed no less challenged by the experience of designing their own language, ascertaining characters who transcend the conflict put in words, of using the power of para-text. dos passos, laurence sterne, and hermann hesse are examples from the same tradition. gertrude stein was a milestone in this development. in poetry, designing a language of one's own is strikingly evident, although more difficult to discuss in passing (as i know i am doing with some of the examples i give). many poets-burns comes easily to mind-invented their own language, with new words and new rules for using them. others-and for some reason vladimir brodsky comes first to mind-wrote splendid para-texts (political articles, interviews, memoirs) that very effectively framed their poetry and put it in a perspective otherwise not so evident. the experience of artistic writing does not happen in a vacuum. it takes place in a broader frame. to realize and to understand that there is a connection between the cubist perspective, joyce's writing, and the scientific language of relativity theory will probably not increase reading pleasure. it will change the perspective of interpretation, though. the connection between genetics, computational models, and post-modern architecture, fiction, and political discourse is even more relevant to our current concern for literature. recurrences of interactions come in varieties, and each variety is a projection of the individual at a precise juncture of the human practical experience of self-constitution as a writer or reader. language split, and continues to split, into languages and sub-languages. rap frequently subjects the listener of its rhythmic stanzas to slang. gramsci, the sardinian leftist philosopher, suggested the need for a language of the proletariat. pier paolo pasolini, an admirer of gramsci and a very sophisticated artist, wrote some of his works in the friaul dialect and in the argot used by the poor youngsters of the streets of rome. his argument was aesthetic and moral: corrupted by commercial democracy, language loses its edge, and people living in such a deprived language environment undergo anthropological mutation. art, in particular literature, can become a form of resistance. a new language, reconnected to the authentic being, becomes an instrument for new literacy experiences. tolkien wrote poems in elvish; anthony burgess made up a language by combining exotic languages (gypsy, malay, cockney) and less exotic languages (english, russian, french, dutch). an entire magazine (jatmey) publishes fiction and poetry written in klingon. in a broader perspective, it is clear that in order to effectively create literary domains, people need instruments and media for new experiences. meta-fiction is such an experience. it unites special types of illustrated novels, photographic fiction (which proliferates in south america and the far east), and comic books. in further inquiry, ken kesey offers a documented journey in order to recapture the spirit of the sixties. images (including some from allen ginsberg's collection) make the book almost a collective oeuvre. using similar strategies, a text of meta-fiction first establishes the convention of the text as a distinct human construct made up of words, but which behave differently from informative, descriptive, or normative sentences that we use in interhuman communication. the strategy is to place the domain of the referent in the writings. the writer thus ensures that the potential reader will have no reason to look for references in empirical reality. this act of preempting the practice of reading, based on reflex associations in a different systematic domain, is not necessarily a warranty that such associations will not be made. there are many people who, either due to their cognitive condition, or to their relative illiteracy, take metaphors literally. however, the writer makes the effort to establish new kinds of recurrent, inter-textual, and self-referential relations that signal the convention pursued. when the act of writing becomes, overtly or subvertly, the object of the writing experience, writers, and possible readers with them, move from the object domain to the meta domain. the writer knows that in the space of fiction, as much as in the space of the empirical world, people write on paper, tables are used to set dinner on, flowers have a scent, subways don't fly. but artistic writing is not so much reporting about the state of the world as it is constituting a different world, along with a context for interactions in this world. the validity and coherence of such worlds stems from qualities different from those that result from applying correct grammar, formal structure of arguments, syntactic integrity, and other requirements specific to the practice of language within the convention of literacy. writing as co-writing (painting as co-painting, composing as co-composing...) the post-modern practice of creative writing involves the intention of interaction in ways not experienced in the civilization of literacy. the written is no longer the monument that must not be altered or questioned, continued, or summarized. reading, seen in part as the effort to extract the truth from the text, takes on the function of projecting truth in the context of text interpretation. actually, the assumption of this practical experience of co-creation (literary, musical, or artistic) has to do with different languages in the practice of writing and reading (painting and viewing, composing and listening, etc.), and even of co-writing (co-painting, co-composing, etc.). recent literary work in the medium of hypertext-a structure within which non- linear connections are possible-shows how far this assumption extends. a structure and core of characters are given. the reading involves the determination of events through determination of contexts. in turn, these affect the behavior of characters in the fictional world. this can unfold as a literary work conceived as a game, whose reading is actually the playing: the reader defines the attributes of the characters, inserts herself or himself in the plot, and the simulation starts. neither the writer nor reader needs to know what programs stand behind the ongoing writing, and even less to understand how they work. the product is, in all of these cases, an infinite series of co- writing. the reader changes dialogues, time and space coordinates, names and characteristics of participants in the literary event. no two works are alike. characteristics of self-ordering and self-informing-such as "x knows such and such about y's peculiarities," or "group z is aware of its collective behavior and possible deviations from the expected"-allow for the constitution of an entirely artificial domain of fiction, with rules as interesting to discover as is the mystery behind a suicide, the complexities of a character's philosophy, or the existence of yet unknown universes. this extreme case of the literature of personal language-of languages as they are formed in the practice of creative co-writing-was anticipated in the various forms of fantastic literature. voyages (anticipated in homer's epics), explorations of future worlds, and science fiction have paved the way for the writing of meta-fiction. this probably explains how jorge luis borges constituted a meta-language (of the quotes of quotes of quotes) for allegories whose object are fictions, not realities. there is no need to be literate to effectively appropriate this kind of writing, although at some level of reading the literate allusion awaits the literate reader (at least to tickle his or her fancy). to a certain extent, it is almost better not to have read madame bovary, with its melodramatic account, because the constitution of borges' universe takes place at a different level of human practice, and in a context of disconnected forms of praxis. co-writing also takes the form of using shared code as a strategy of literary expression. the many specialized languages of literary criticism and interpretation- such as comparative studies, phenomenological analysis, structuralism, semiotic interpretation, deconstructionism-as difficult and opaque to the average literate reader as scientific and philosophic languages, are duplicated in the specialized language of creative post-modern writing. reading requires a great deal of preparation for some of those works, or at least the assumed shared understanding of the particular language. the writings of donald barthelme, kurt vonnegut, and john barthe are not casual reading, for sheer enjoyment or excitement. mastery of the language, moreover of the language code, as part of the practical experience it facilitates, does not come from studying english in high school or college, rather from decoding the narrative strategy and understanding that the purpose of this writing is knowledge about writing and reading. the epistemological made into a subject of fiction-how do we know what we know?-makes for very dense prose. this is why in this new stage, it is possible to have readers of a one and only book (i am not referring to the bible or koran), which becomes the language of that reader. alice in wonderland is such a book for quite a few; so is ulysses; so are the two novels of william h. gass. in the civilization of illiteracy, we experience the emergence of micro-readership attracted to non-standard writing. efficiency considerations are such that the non-standard practical experience of writing is met by a non-standard experience of reading books, and other media (including cd-rom) that address a small number of people. the effort to recycle (art or literature) is part of the same co-writing strategy. the co-writers are authors (recycled) and readers whose past readings (real or imaginary) are integrated in the new experience. recycling (names, actions, narratives, etc.) corresponds to, among other things, the attempt to counteract the sequentiality of writing, even the literate expectation of originality. taking a piece from a literary work and using it in its entirety means to almost transform the language sequence into a configuration. that piece resembles a painting hung in the middle of a page, or, to force the image, between the parts of a sonata. it entails its own history and interpretation, and triggers a mechanism of rejection not dissimilar to that triggered by organ transplants. the convention of reading is broken; the text is manipulated like an image and offered as a collage to the reader. the seams of different parts sewn together are not hidden; to the contrary, a spotlight is focused on them. gertrude stein best exemplifies the tendency, and probably how well it synchronized with similar developments in art (cubism foremost). w. h. gass masterfully wrote about words standing for characters, object, and actions; he invented new worlds where the writer can define rules for their behavior. concrete poetry, too, in many ways anticipated this type of writing, which comes from visual experiences and from the experiments in music triggered by the dodecaphonic composers. in concrete poetry, one can even discover the expression of jealousy between those interacting in the systematic domain of abstract phonetic languages, and those in the domain of ideograms. japanese writers of concrete poetry seem equally eager to experience the sequential! the effort to recycle, interpret, visualize, to read and explain for the reader, and to compress (action, description, analysis) corresponds to the ever faster interactions of humans and to the shorter duration of such interactions. the reader is presented with pieces already known, or with easily understandable images that summarize the action or the characters. why imagine, as writers always expected their readers to do, if one can see-this seems to be the temptation. the end of the great novel the ideal of the great novel was an ideal of a monument in literacy. despite the technology for writing, such as word processing machines and the hypertext programs for interactive, collaborative authoring, writing the great novel is not only impossible, but irrelevant. expectations associated with the great novel are expectations of unity, homogeneity, universality. such a novel would address everyone, as the great novels of the civilization of literacy tended to do. the extreme segmentation of the world, its heterogeneity, the new rhythms of change and of human experiences, the continuous decline of the ideal embodied in literacy, education included, are arguments against the possibility of such a novel. an all-encompassing language, which the practical experience of writing such a novel implies, is simply no longer possible. we live in a civilization of partial languages, with their corresponding creative, non-standard writing experiences, in a disembodied domain of expression, communication, and signification. if, ad absurdum, various literary works could talk to each other (as their authors can and do), they would soon conclude that the shared background is so limited that, beyond the phrases of socializing and some political statements (more circumstantial than substantial), little else could be said. furthermore, writing itself has changed. and since there is a consubstantiality among all elements involved in the experience, the change affects the self-constitution of the writer, and subsequently that of the reader. technology takes care of spelling and even syntax; more recently it even prompts semantic choices. this use of technology in creative writing is far from being neutral. different rhythms and patterns of association, as embodied in our practice with interface language-the language mediating between us and the machine-are projected volens-nolens into the realm of literature. moreover, different kinds of reading, corresponding to the new kinds of human interaction, become possible. one can already have a novel delivered on tape, to be listened to while driving to work. the age of the electronic book brings other reading possibilities to the public. an animated host can introduce a short story; a hand- held scanner can pick up words the reader does not know and activate a synthetic voice to read their definitions from the on-line dictionary. and this is not all! language used to be the medium for bridging between generations in the framework of homogeneous practical experiences. edmund carpenter correctly pointed out that for the civilization of literacy, the book-and what, if not the literary book, best embodies the notion of a book?-"became the organizing principle for all existence." yes, the book seemed almost the projection of our own reality: beginning (we are all born), middle, and end (at which moment we become memory, the book itself being a form of memory), followed by new books. carpenter went on to say, "even as written manuscript, the book served as a model for both machine and bureaucracy. it encouraged a habit of thought that divided experience into specialized units and organized these serially and causally. translated into gears and levers, the book became machine. translated into people, it became army, chain of command, assembly line, etc." handwriting, typing, dictation, and word-processing define a context for the practical experience of self-identification as novelist, poet, playwright, screenplay author, and scriptwriter. interaction with word-processing programs produces a fluidity of writing that testifies to endless self-correction, and to rewriting driven by association. word-processing is cognitively a different effort from writing with a pen or typewriter. and no one should be surprised that what is written with the new media cannot be the same as the works of shakespeare, balzac, and tolstoi, entrusted by hand to paper. a distributed narrative effort of many people, via network interaction, is a practical experience above and beyond anything we could have had in the framework of literacy. the first comic strip in america ( ) announced the age of complementary expression (text and drawing). nobody really understood how far the genre would go, or how many literacy-based conventions would be undone in the process. comic-strip characters occupied a large part of the memory of those who grew up with the names of characters from books. the influence of new media (film, in particular) on the narrative of the strip opened avenues of experiments in writing. when classics of literature (even the bible) were presented in comic-strip form, and when comic strips were united under the cover of books, the book itself changed. structural characteristics of the strip (fast, dense, focused, short, expressive) correspond to those of the pragmatic framework of the civilization of illiteracy. does the civilization of illiteracy herald the end of the book? as far as the practice of creative writing goes, it might as well, since writing does not necessarily have to take a book format. narrative, as we know from oral tradition, can take forms other than the book. my opinion in regard to books should not be understood as prophecy. pointing to alternatives (such as digital books, electronic publications distributed on networks and stored on disks), some perhaps not thought through as yet, keeps the influence of our own framework of reference at a distance. a video format, as poor and unsatisfying a substitute as it might seem to someone raised with the book, is a candidate everyone can name. after all, the majority of the books studied a generation ago are known to the students of this time mainly through television and movie adaptations. the majority of today's children's books are released together with their video simuli. computer-supported artifacts, endowed or not with literary intelligence, are another candidate for replacing the book. what we know is that paper can be handled only so much and preserved only so long (even if it is non-acid paper). furthermore, it becomes more and more an issue of efficiency whether we can afford transforming our forests into books, which humankind, faced with many challenges, may no longer be able to afford, or which are so disconnected from current pragmatics that they have lost their relevance. today, while still entirely devoted to the ideal of literacy, societies subsidize literary practical experiences which are only peripherally relevant to human experience. a large number of grants go to writers who will probably never be read; many more to contests (themselves anchored in the obsession with hierarchy peculiar to literacy) open to students lost in the labyrinth of an illusion; and even more to schools and seminars of marginal or very narrow interest, or to publications that barely justify the effort and expense of their endeavor. from the perspective of the beneficiaries, awarding such grants is the right thing to do. in the long run, this altruism will not save more of the literacy-based literature than highly specialized contemporary society perceives as necessary in respect to efficiency requirements facing the world at the current scale. in labor division, the literate writer and reader constitute their systematic domain of interaction. the book will no doubt remain in some form or another (words on paper or dots on an electronic page of a portable reading device) as long as people derive pleasure or profit from the printed word. but as opposed to the past, this is only one among many literary and non-literary domains of interaction. it is, for example, very difficult to say whether the artists of the graffiti movement were writers, using an alphabet reminiscent of egyptian hieroglyphs, or painters with words, or both. keith haring, their best known representative, covered every available square inch-horror vacui-with expressions that constituted a new systematic domain of interaction among people, as well as a new space for his own self-constitution as a different type of artist. instead of decrying the end of an ideal, we should celebrate the victory of diversity. those who really feel that their destiny relies on the ideal of literature might choose to give up some of their expectations, stimulated by the literate model, in order to preserve the structure within which literacy is possible and necessary. the demand for more at the lowest price that heralds the multi-headed creature called the civilization of illiteracy affects more than the production of clothes and dishes, or of cars and an insatiable appetite for travel. it affects our ways of writing, reading, painting, singing, dancing, composing, interpreting, and acting-our entire aesthetic experience. libraries, books, readers carlyle believed that "the true university is a collection of books." if books truly represent the spirit and letter of the civilization of literacy, a description of their current condition can be instructive. obviously, one has to accept the possibility that the civilization of literacy will continue in some form, or in more than one, that will extend the experience of the book, as we know it today through its physical form. or the civilization of literacy may continue in a totally new form that responds to the human desire for efficiency. addressing the international publishers association congress in june, , george steiner tried to identify the "interlocking factors" that led to the establishment of book culture. the technology of printing, paper production, and advances in typography that are associated with the "private ownership of space, of silence, and of books themselves" are among factors affecting the process. another important factor is book aesthetics, the underlying formal quality of a medium that had to compete with vivid images, with powerful traditions of orality, and with patterns of behavior established within practical experiences different from those of book culture. near the end of the th century, aldus manutius understood that the new technology of printing could be, and should be, more than the mere continuation of the tradition of manuscripts. the artifact of the book, close to what we know today, is mainly his contribution to the civilization of literacy. manutius applied aesthetic and functional criteria that led to the smaller-sized books we are familiar with. he worked with covers; the hard cover in thicker cardboard replaced the covers of pinewood used to protect manuscripts and early printed texts. the understanding of aesthetics and of the experience of reading led him to define better layouts and a new typography. his concern with portability (a quality obsessing contemporary computer designers), with readability (of no less interest to computer display experts), and with a balanced visual appearance make him the real saint of the order of the book. the book also entails conventions of intellectual ownership. in their effort to stop the dissemination of heretical books through print, philip and mary, in , limited the right of printing to the members of the stationers' company. in , copyright for members was introduced; and in , copyright for authors. from that time on, the book expanded the notion of property, different from the notion of ownership of land, animals, and buildings, especially in view of the desire, implicit in literacy, to literally spread the word. now that desktop capabilities and technologies that facilitate print on demand affordably reproduce print, old notions of property and ownership need to be redefined. our understanding of books and the people who read them, too, needs to be redefined as well. today, books can be stored on media other than sheets of paper, on which words are printed and which are bound between hard or soft covers. one hundred optical disks can store the entire contents of the library of congress. this means, among other things, that works of incredible significance cost five cents per book printed digitally. another result is that the notion of intellectual ownership becomes fuzzy. actually, the word book is not the proper one to use in the case of digital storage. the new pragmatics makes it crisply clear that the book is merely a medium for the storage and transmission of data, knowledge, and wisdom, as well as a lot of stupidity and vulgarity. for people who prefer the book format, high-performance printing presses are able to efficiently provide runs for very precisely defined segments of the population just waiting for the great american novel that is custom written and produced for one reader at a time. "personalized story books starring your child," screams an advertisement. it promises "hard cover, full color illustration, exciting stories with positive image building storylines." all that must be provided is the child's name, age, city of residence, and the names of three friends or relatives. the rest is permutation (and an order form). grandma did a better job with her photo and keepsake album, but the framework of mediation replaced her long ago. paper is available in all imaginable quantities and qualities; the technologies of typesetting, layout, image reproduction, and binding are all in place. nowadays, there is enough private space. the wash of noise is not a serious obstacle to people who want to read, even if they do not wear noise cancellation headphones. and never were books published at more affordable prices than today. some books reside on the shelves of the internet or are integrated in broader hyper- books on the world wide web. a word from one book-let's say a new concept built upon earlier language experiences-connects the interested reader to other books and articles, as well as to voices that read texts, to songs, and to images. the book is no longer a self-sufficient entity, but a medium for possible interaction. at the threshold of the civilization of illiteracy, how many books are printed? in which medium? how many are sold? are they read? how? by whom? these are only some of the questions to be posed when approaching the subject of books. even more important is the "why?"-in particular, "why read books?"-the real test of the book's legitimacy, and ergo, the legitimacy of the civilization which the book emblemizes. the broader issue is actually reading and writing, or to be more precise, the means through which an author can address many readers. the fine balance of factors involved in the publishing and success of a book is extremely difficult to describe. the general trend in publishing can be described as more and more titles in smaller and smaller editions. ideally, a good manuscript (of a novel, book of poetry, plays, essays, scientific or philosophic writings) should become a successful book, i.e., one that sells. in the reality of the book business, many mediating elements determine the destiny of a manuscript. most of these elements are totally unrelated to the quality of writing or to the satisfaction of reading. they reflect market processes of valuation. these elements are symptomatic of the book's condition in the civilization that moves towards the pragmatics of many competing literacies, almost all contradicting the intrinsic characteristics of literacy embodied in the book. the life of books is shorter (despite their being printed on acid-free paper). books have a decreasing degree of universality; more books address limited groups of readers as opposed to a large general market, not to mention the whole of humankind, as was once the book's purpose. books use specialized languages, depending on their topics. the distinct ways these languages convey contents frequently contradict the culturally acknowledged condition of the book, and are a cause of concern to people who are the products of (or adherents to) a civilization based on books. more and more books end up as collections of images with minimal commentary. some are already delivered together with a tape cassette or compact disk, to be heard rather than read, to be seen rather than to engage the reader's mind. road reading is a billboard trademark for recorded books. narrated by voices appropriate to the subject (a southern drawl for a story like to kill a mockingbird; a cultivated voice for charles dickens's a tale of two cities), the books compete with red lights, landscapes, and other signs along the road. many books written in our day contain vulgar language and elevate slang to the qualitative standard of fiction. there are books that promise the excitement of a game (find the object or the criminal). a reward, effectively replacing the satisfaction of reading, will be handed to the lucky finder. the subject of reading has also changed since the time the bible and other religious texts, dramas and poetry, philosophic and scientific writings were entrusted to the printing press. melodramatic fiction, at least years old, paved the way for pulp fiction and today's surefire bestsellers based on gossip and escapism. our goal is to understand the nature of change in the book's condition, why this change is a cause for concern, as well as our own relation to books. to do this, we should examine the transition that defines the identity and role of the writer and reader in the new pragmatic context. why don't people read books? "do you ever read any of the books you burn?" clarisse mcclellan asks in fahrenheit . (this book is also available in video format and as a computer game.) guy montag, the fireman, answers, "that is against the law." this conversation defines a context: the group that still reads is able to pass the benefits of their experience to people who are not allowed to read books. in our days, no fireman is paid to set books ablaze. to the contrary, many people are employed to save deteriorating books printed in the past. but the question of whether people read any of the books they buy or receive, or even save from destruction, cannot be dismissed. the majority of the books changing hands and actually read are reference publications. the home contains an increasing number of radios, television sets, cd players, electronic games, video cassette recorders, and computers. the shelf space for books is being taken up by other media. instead of the personal library, people consecrate space in their homes for media centers that consume a great deal of their free time. instead of the permanence of the printed text, they prefer the variability of continually changing programs, of scanning and sampling, and of surfing the internet. the digital highway supplies an enormous amount of reference material. this material is, moreover, kept up to date, something that is not so easy to accomplish with bound sets of encyclopedias or even with the telephone book. books are not burned, but neither are they read with much commitment. scanning through a story or reading the summary on the flip jacket, filling one's time during a commute or at the airport is all that happens in most cases. a variety of books are written for such purposes. required reading for classes, according to teachers, cannot exceed the attention span of their pupils. growing up under the formative influence of short cycles and the expectation of quick conclusions to their acts, youngsters oppose any reading that is not to the point (as they see it). in most cases, outlines provide whatever knowledge (information is probably a better word) is needed for a class or for a final examination. the real filter of reading is the multiple choice grid, not the satisfaction of immersion in a world brought to life by words. all this is almost the end of the story, not the substance of its arguments. the arguments are manifold and all related to characteristics of literacy. in the first place, publishers simply discard the traditional reverence for books. they realize that a book placed somewhere on the pedestal of adulation, extended from the religious book to books in general, keeps readers away or makes them captive to interpretive prejudices. how can one be involved in the practice of democracy without extending it to books, thus giving cervantes and whitman a place equal to that of the cheap, mass- produced pulp literature and even the videotape? the experience of the book reveals a double-edged sword, deriving mainly from the perception that the book, as a vessel, sanctifies whatever it carries. hitler's mein kampf was such a book in nazi germany, and still is for nazi revivalists. in the former communist countries, the books of marx and engels were sanctified, printed without end (after careful editing), and forced upon readers of all age groups, especially the young. nobody could argue against even trivial factual errors that slipped into their writings, into translations, or into selective editions. mao's little red book was distributed free to everyone in china. in our day, hitler and other authors of the same bent are published. these very few examples follow a long line of books dealing in indoctrination (religious, ideological, economic), misrepresentation, and bigotry. as insidious attempts to seduce for disreputable, if not frankly criminal causes, they have inflicted damage on humanistic expectations and on the practice of human-based values. champions of literacy point to the classics of history and enlightenment and to the great writers of poetry, fiction, and drama as the authentic heritage of the book. how much space do they occupy on the shelves of bookstores, libraries, and homes? in good faith and without exaggerating, one can easily conclude that from all the books stored in homes and places of public access, the majority should probably have never been written, never mind printed or read. if these books and periodicals were only repetitive of what had been said and thought previously, they would not deserve such strong condemnation. the judgment expressed above refers to words and thoughts whose shallowness and deceit are consecrated through the associations that the printed word entails. hard facts about books in the new pragmatic context confirm that people, either due to illiteracy or a-literacy, read less and use books less and less for their practical experiences. titles make it onto the bestseller lists only because they are sold, not read. intrinsic qualities-of writing, aesthetics, the ideas set forth-are rarely taken into consideration, unless they confirm the prejudices of their consumers. books often make it onto the bookshelf as a status symbol. in the early eighties, everyone in italy, germany, and the usa wanted to display the name of the rose. or they become a subject of conversation-"it will be made into a movie." but even such books remain unread to the last page % of the time. today, by virtue of faster writing and printing, books compete with the newspaper in capturing the sensational. the unholy alliance between the film industry, television, and publishing houses is very adept at squeezing the last possible drop of sleaze from an event of public interest in order to catch one more viewer or purchaser of cheaply manufactured books. because of a combination of many factors-long production cycles, high cost of publishing and marketing, low transparency, rapid acquisition of knowledge that makes high quality books obsolete in one or two years, to name a few factors-the book has ceased to be the major instrument for the dissemination of knowledge related to practical experiences. first among the factors affecting the book's role is that the rhythm of renewal and conversion requires a medium that can keep pace with change. prior to the breakdown of the former soviet union and the eastern block, the majority of books on politics, sociology, economics, and culture pertinent to that part of the world became useless from one day to the next as events and whims rendered their content meaningless. once the eastern block started to unravel, even periodicals could not keep pace with events. all around the world, strikes, various forms of social activism, political debates, successive reorganizations, new borders, and new leaders contradicted the image of stability settled in the books of scholars and even in the evaluations issued by intelligence agencies. not only politics required rewriting. books on physics, chemistry, mathematics, computing, genetics, and mind and brain theory have to be rewritten as new discoveries and technologies render obsolete facts associated with past observations published as eternal truth. in some cases, the books were rewritten on tape, as visual presentations impossible to fit in sentences or between book covers, or on cd-rom. more recently, books are being rewritten as internet publications or full-fledged web sites that can easily be kept current. photocopies of selected pages and articles already substitute for the book on the desks of students, professors, scholars, and researchers. college students, who are obliged to buy books, don't like to invest in items that they know will be outdated and useless within a year. the book will appear in a new edition, either because the information has been updated or because the publisher wants to make more money. students prefer the videotape, so much closer to tele-viewing, an experience that ultimately forms cognitive characteristics different from those of reading and writing. or they prefer to find material on-line, again a cognitive experience of a dynamic condition incompatible with the book. the complexity of human practical experiences is as important as the dynamics. the pragmatic framework that made literacy and the book necessary was relatively homogeneous. heterogeneity entails a state of affairs for which books can only serve after the experience, as a repository medium. even in this documentary or historic function, books capture less than what other media, better adapted to sign processes irreducible to literacy, could. for the experience as such, books become irrelevant, whether we like it or not. the facts relating to the consequences of the increased complexity of current pragmatics have yet to be realized, much less recorded. what is available is the accumulated human experience with alternate media, not necessarily cheaper than books, but certainly better adapted to instances of parallelism and distributed activities. books do justice to simultaneous temporal phenomena only at the expense of capturing their essence. the nature of human praxis is so radically disconnected from the nature of literacy embodied in the book that one can no longer rely on it without affecting the outcome. practical experiences in which time is of the essence, and activities that require synchronization or are based on a configurational paradigm are different in nature from writing and reading. to open a book, to look for the appropriate page, and to read and understand the information slows down (or stops) the process. the sequential nature of literacy misses the requirement of synchronism and might not even lead to solutions to questions related to non-sequential connections. in addition to these major factors, there is the broader background: access to knowledge conveyed through literacy implies a shared literate experience. shared experience, especially in open, dynamic societies, can no longer be assumed as a given. there are cultural as well as physical differences to be accounted for among all the human beings in the developed world. there are the visually impaired and physically handicapped who cannot use books. there are people with conditions that do not allow for the deciphering of printed letters and words. these individuals must rely on devices that read for them, on senses other than sight, and on a good memory. the decreased interest in books is indicative of a fundamentally different human practical experience of self-constitution. in line with the shift from manufacturing to service, books perform mainly functions of incidental information (when not replaced by a database), amusement, and filling time. even if the great novel, or great epic poem, or great drama were written, it would go unnoticed in the loud concert of competing messages. it might be that literature today is passionless, or it might be that the seduction of commercial success brings everything to the common denominator of return on an investment, regardless of cultural reward. books written to please, books published to satisfy vanity, and books of impenetrable obscurity did not exactly trigger reader interest. all in all, good and bad considered, the general evolution does not testify to less literary talent. the issue of quality is open to controversy, as it always has been. many books reflect a level of literacy that is not exactly encouraging. still, literature does not fail on its merits (or lack thereof). it fails, rather, on the context of its perception. like anything else in the civilization of illiteracy, the multiplication of choices resulted in the annihilation of a sense of value and of effective criteria for differentiation within the continuum of writing. the overall development towards the civilization of illiteracy suggests that the age of the book is being followed by an age of alternative media. the promoters of literacy are doing their best to resist this change. their motto is "read anything, as long as you read." they effectively discount any and all other means of acquiring knowledge, and totally disenfranchise individuals who cannot read. there are many avenues to self-constitution: all our senses-including common sense-repetition and memory. some of these avenues are more efficient than the medium of the book. if they were not, they would not be succeeding as they do. the champions of literacy also imply that anything acquired through reading is good. the harm that can be transmitted through the book medium can be recorded in volumes. on the collective level, it has led to persecution and violence, even mass destruction. on the individual level, it can lead to imbalance. the child who is forced to read at age three is being deprived of time for developing other skills essential to his or her physical and mental well-being. the cognitive repertory of these children is being stunted by well meaning but misguided parents. it is being stunted, too, by the market that sells literacy as though there were no tomorrow despite the fact that literacy has lost its dominant position in our lives. topos uranikos distributed this book began by contrasting the readers of the past to today's typical literate: zizi the hairdresser and her boyfriend, the taxi driver with the college degree in political science. the underlying structure of human practical experiences through which average persons like zizi and bruno g., as well as the nobel prize winner in genetics, artists, sportsmen and sportswomen, writers, tv producers, and computer hackers (and many other professionals), constitute themselves is characterized by a new type of relations among parts. these relations are in flux. whereas many functions associated with human experiences can be rationalized, levels of efficiency beyond individual capabilities can be achieved. thus, one of the main goals is to harmonize the relation between human experience and the functioning of devices emulating human activities. this raises the issue of the altered human condition. in this context, the relevance of knowledge has changed to the extent that, in order to function in a world of arbitrary bureaucratic rules designed to blindly implement a democracy of mediocrity, one has to know the trivia of prices in the supermarket. someone has to know how to access them when they are stored in a memory device, and how to charge the bill to a credit card number. but no one has to know the history of cultural values. it actually helps to ignore value altogether. the roots of almost everything involved in current practical experiences are no longer effectively anchored in tradition, but in the memory of facts and actions extracted from tradition. at a time when books are merely an interior designer's concept of decoration, beautifully crafted editions fill the necessary bookcase. humanity has reached a new stage: we are less grounded in nature and tradition. this condition takes some of the wind out of the sails of memetics. practical experiences of human self-constitution extended the human phenotype beyond that of any other known species. but this extension is not the sum total of genetic and cultural evolution. it is of a different quality that neither genetic nor memetic replication suggests, let alone explains. our obsession is to surpass the limitations of the past, cultural as well as natural. that makes us like the many things we generated in the attempt to reach levels of efficiency which neither nature nor tradition can support. the hydroponic tomato, the genetically engineered low-fat egg, the digital book, and the human being of the civilization of illiteracy have more in common than one thinks at the mere mention of this opinion. the life of books, good or bad, useful or destructive, entertaining or boring, is the life of those who read them. free to constitute ourselves in a framework of human experiences opened to much more than books, we have the chance of exploring new territories of human expression and communication, and of achieving levels of significance. individual performance in the civilization of literacy could not reach such levels. but this formulation is suspect of cheap rhetoric. it begs the question "why don't we?" (accomplish all these potentialities). we are so many, we are so talented, we are so well informed. the civilization of illiteracy is not a promised land. interactive education centers, distributed tasks, cooperative efforts, and cultivation and use of all senses do not just happen. understanding new necessities, in particular the relation between the new scale of humankind and the levels of efficiency to be reached in order to effectively address higher expectations of well being, does not come through divine inspiration, high-tech proselytizing, or political speeches. it results from the experience of self-constitution itself, in the sense that each experience becomes a locus of interactions, which transcends the individual. the realization of potential is probably less direct than the realization of dangers and risks. we are still singing the sirens' song instead of articulating goals appropriate to our new condition. one area in which goals have been articulated and are being pursued is the transfer of the contents of books from various libraries to new media allowing for storage of information, more access to it, and creative interaction. the library, perceived as a form of trans-human memory, a space of topos uranikos filled with eternal information, was the collection of ideas and forms that one referred to when in need of guidance. robert de sorbon gave his books to the university of paris almost years ago. little did he know what this gesture would mean to the few scholars who had access to this collection. by (only years after his donation), one of the readers would jot down the observation that he would need ten years to read the just under , books in the library. one hundred years later, pembroke college of cambridge university and merton college of oxford obtained their libraries. the charles university in prague, the universities in krakow (poland), coimbra (portugal), salamanca (spain), heidelberg and cologne (the future germany), basle (switzerland), and copenhagen (denmark) followed suit. libraries grew into national cultural monuments. museums grew within them and then became entities in their own right. today, billions of books are housed in libraries all over the world. books are in our homes, in town and city libraries, in research institutions, in religious centers, in national and international organizations. under the guise of literacy, we are happy to be able to access, regardless of the conditions (as borrowers or subscribers), this enormous wealth of knowledge. the library represented the permanent central storehouse of knowledge. but the pragmatic framework of human self-constitution moved beyond the characteristics embodied by both library and book. therefore, a new library, representative of many literacies-visual, aural, and tactile, relying on multimedia, and models and simulations-and able to cope with fast change had to come about. this library, to which we shall return, now resides in a distributed world, accessible from many directions and in many ways, continuously open, and freed from the anxiety that books might catch fire or turn into dust. true, the image of the world limited almost exclusively to reference books does not speak in favor of the enormous investment in time, money, and talent for taking the new routes opened by non-linear means of access to information, rich sensorial content, and interactivity. still, in many ways noah webster's experience in publishing his dictionary-a reference for america as the larousse is for france and the duden for germany-can be retraced in the multimedia encyclopedias of our day, moreover in the emergence of the virtual library. in , vannevar bush wrote his prophetic article in the atlantic monthly. he announced, "wholly new forms of encyclopedias will appear, ready-made with a mesh of associative trails running through them." he went on to illustrate how the lawyer will have "at his touch the associated opinions and decision of his whole experience." the patent attorney could call "the millions of issued patents, with familiar trails to every point of his client's interest." the physician, the chemist, the historian will use bush's modestly named memex to retrieve information. the conclusion, in a well subdued tone, was "presumably man's spirit should be elevated if he can better review his shoddy past and analyze more completely and objectively his present problems." written immediately after world war ii, bush's article was concerned with applying the benefits of scientific research for warfare in the new context of peace. what he suggested as a rather independent application is now the reality of on-line communities of people working on related topics or complementing each other's work. the benefits of electronic mail, of shared files, of shared computing power are not what interest us here. ted nelson, whose name is connected to project xanadu, acknowledged the benefits deriving from bush's vision, but he is mainly concerned with the power of linking. nelson learned from literacy that one can link text to a footnote (the jump-link), to a quote (the quote-link), and to a marginal note (the correlink, as he calls it). he designed his project as a distributed library of ever new texts and images open to everyone, a medium for authoring thoughts, for linking to others, for altering texts and images. multiplicity of interpretations, open to everyone else, ensures efficiency at the global level, and integrity at the individual level. he called his concept a thinker-toy, an environment that supports dedicated work without taking away the fun. generalized beyond his initial scheme, the medium allows people to make notes, by either writing them, dictating them, or drawing diagrams. text can be heard, images animated. visualization increases expressivity. participation of many readers enlarges the library while simultaneously allowing others to see only what they want to see. privacy can be maintained according to one's wishes; interaction is under the control of each individual. in this generalized medium, videotapes, films, images from museums, and live performances are brought together. the rule is simple: "accessibility and free linking make a two-sided coin." in translation: if someone wants or needs to connect to something, i.e., to use a resource created by someone else, the connection becomes available to all those to whom it might be relevant. relinquishing the right to control links, established in the first place because one needed them, is part of the xanadu agreement. it is part of the living library, without walls and bookshelves, called the world wide web. roads paved with good intentions are notorious for leading where we don't want to wind up. for everyone who has searched for knowledge in the web's virtual library, it becomes clear very soon that no known search engine and no intelligent agent can effectively distinguish between the trivial and the meaningful. we have co-evolved with the results of our practical experiences. selection neither increases the chances of the fittest, nor eliminates the biologically unfit. cultural artifacts, books included, or for that matter, the zeroes and ones that are the making of digital texts of all kinds and all contents, illustrate the thesis no less than the increasing number of people kept alive who, under darwin's law, would have died. these individuals are able to constitute their practical experiences through means, among which books and libraries do not present themselves as alternatives. global networks are not a habitat for the human mind, but they are an effective medium for mind interactions of individuals who are physically far from being equal. custom access to knowledge available in the virtual library is the main characteristic, more so than the wealth of data types and retrieval procedures. the question posed at the beginning of this section, "why don't we?" referring to the creative use of new means, finds one answer here. as more and more people, within their realms of needs and interests, become linked to what is pertinent to their existence and experience, they also enter an agreement of exchange that makes their linking part of the distributed space of human memory and creativity. the naked need to enter the agreement is part of the dynamics of the civilization of illiteracy. reading and enjoying a book implied an eventual return of money to the publisher and the writer. it might also have affected the reader in ways difficult to evaluate: some people believe that good books make better people. distributed environments of knowledge, expression, and information change the relation. from the world of orality-"tell me and i will forget"-to that of literacy-"let me read, but i might not remember"-a cognitive change, still evident today, took place. the next-"involve me and i will understand"-began. the line of thought continues: involvement returns value to others. the sense of design to design means to literally involve oneself in a practical experience with signs. to design means to express, in various signs, thoughts, feelings, and intentions pertinent to human communication, as well as to project oneself in artifacts appropriate to human practical experiences. in the remote age of direct practical experiences, there was no design. the practice of signs entails the possibility to transcend the present. in nature, future means insemination; in culture, future is in-signation: putting into sign, i.e., design. in its broadest definition, design is the self-constitution of the human being as an agent of change. this change covers the environment, conceiving artifacts (tools included), shelter, clothing, rituals, religious ceremonies, events, messages, interpretive contexts, interactions, and more recently, new materials and virtual realities. shakespeare, who would have enjoyed the intense fervor of our age, gave a beautiful description of design: "...imagination bodies forth/the forms of things unknown" (midsummer night's dream). although design contains elements ensuing from experiences involving language, design is essentially a non-verbal human activity. its means of expression and communication are grounded in the visual, but extend to sound, texture, odor, taste, and combinations of these (synaesthesia), including rhythm, color, and movement. to the human being involved in practical experiences of self-constitution, the realm of nature appears as given. in counter-distinction and in retrospect, human nature appears as designed. in some cases, design is an act of selection: something is picked up from the environment-a stick, stone, plant-and assigned an a-natural function through implementation: mark territory, aid an activity, support a structure or the human body, trap animals or humans, attack or defend against attack, color skin or clothing. in other cases, selection is followed by some form of framing, such as the frame of the ritual around a totem pole, animal sacrifice, mourning, and celebrations of fecundity and victory. selection and framing are related to efficiency expectations. they embody the hope for help from magic forces and express willingness to pursue goals that support the individual, family, and community. between the present of any experience and the future, the experience of design bridges in the form of new patterns of interaction (through tools, artifacts, messages), recurrences, and extensions of consequences of human activity from the immediate to the future. the projection of biology into an experience of long-lasting consequences implies elements of planning, no matter how rudimentary, and expectations of outcome. it also leads to new human relations in family-based interactions, education, shared values, and patterns of reciprocal responsibility. random sexual encounters that reflect natural drives are not designs. awareness of reciprocal attraction, shared feelings, and commitments extending well beyond the physical encounter can be identified as a design component present even in sexuality. between the design component of sexual consequence of the evolving human being and the design of offspring by selection of a partner, by selection of genetic traits catalogued in semen banks, by genetic splicing and mutation, and by all that is yet to come upon us, there is a difference that reflects the altered human pragmatic condition. of real interest here is how the future is captured in design. moreover, we want to know how it unfolds in practical experiences of design by which human beings extend their reality from here and now to then and there. in ways different from language, design gives the human being another experience of time and space. this experience is for the most part coherent with that of language. but it can also make individuals constituting themselves through design work aware of aspects of time that the language experience misses altogether or makes impossible. designs are expressed in drawings and eventually complemented by models testifying to the experiences of volume, texture, and motion. the anticipated time dimension is eventually added in simulations. design liberates the human being from total conditioning through language. within the convention of design, signs are endowed with a life of their own, supported by the energy of the persons entering the convention. this is how human symbolism, of confirmed vitality and efficiency, is factually established. symbols integrated in human experience are given the life of the experience. the entire heritage of rituals testifies to this. today the word ritual is used indiscriminately for any habitual preparation, from bathing to watching tv to after-game celebrations. initially, rituals appeared as dynamic designs centered around episodes of life and death. their motivation lay in the practical experience; their unfolding in connected interactions acquired an aesthetic quality from the underlying design. from the earliest known experiences, the implicit aesthetic component is the optimizing element of the experience. this aesthetic component extends perceived formal qualities found in nature to the aesthetics of objects and activities in the realm of human nature. the language of design expresses awareness of these formal characteristics. practical experiences display a repetitive pattern: the optimal choice (of shapes, colors, rhythms, sounds, movement) is always pleasing. the quality through which pleasure is experienced is not reducible to the elements involved, but it is impossible without them. selection is motivated by practical expectations, but guided by formal criteria. individuals involved in the earliest pragmatic framework were aware of this. other formal criteria make up a generic background. one of the recurrent patterns of the practical experience of design is to appropriate the formal quality associated with what is pleasing in nature and to integrate it in the optimal shaping of the future. this is how the aesthetic dimension of human practical experiences resulted within such experiences. notation systems (e.g., the quipu, representational drawings on stone or on the ground, or hieroglyphics) that eventually became writing can be classified as design, not lastly in view of their aesthetic coherence. only when rules and expectations defined by verbal language take over notation does writing separate from design and become part of the broader experience of language. we can now understand why changes in verbal language, as it constituted a framework for time and spatial experiences, were not necessarily reflected in changes in design. by the time literacy became possible, the underlying structure that led to it was embodied in the use of language. this is not true, to the same extent, in the practice of design. it is at this juncture that design is ascertained as a profession, i.e., as a practical domain with its own dynamics and goals. by no coincidence, engineering design emerged in the context of the pragmatics that began with building pyramids, ziggurats, and temples, and culminated in the industrial revolution in the design of machines. the broad premise of the industrial age is that everything is a machine: the house, the carriage, stoves, the contraptions used in literate education, schools, colleges, institutions, art studios, even nature. from a relatively focused and homogeneous field of practical experiences within industrial society, design evolved, in the civilization of illiteracy, as an overriding concern that extended to many specialized applications: tool design, building and interior design (architecture), jewelry design, apparel design, textile design, product design, graphic design, and to the many fields of engineering (including computer-aided design), interactive media and virtual reality, as well as genetic engineering, new materials design, event design (applied to politics and various commodities), networking, and education. technologies, from primitive to sophisticated, supporting visual languages made possible complexities for which the intuitive use of visual expression is not the most effective. consequently, the scope of design-oriented practical experiences changed. design now affords more integrative projects of higher levels of synaesthesia, as well as experiences involving variable designs-that is, designs that grow together with the human being self-constituted in practical interactions with the designed world. in the pragmatic framework based on the digital, design replaced literacy more than any other practical experience has. the results of design are different in nature from those of literacy. as optimistic as one can become about a future not bound to the constraints of literacy, it takes more to comprehend the sense of design at a time when evolutionary progress is paralleled by revolutionary change. drawing the future drawing starts with seeing and leads to a way of envisioning and understanding the world different from the understanding filtered through language. from a cognitive viewpoint, drawing implies that persons constituting their identity in the act of drawing know the inside and the outside of what they render. to draw requires that things grow from their inside and take shape as active entities. visible and invisible parts interact in drawing, surface and volume intersect, voids and fills extend in the visual expression, dynamically complementing each other. each line of a drawing makes sense only in relation to the others. in contrast to words and sentences, elements of a drawing conjure understanding only through the drawing. visual representation, as opposed to language expression, attains coherence as a whole, and the whole is configurational. one can write the word table without ever experiencing the object denominated. extracted from direct or mediated experiences, knowledge about the object and its functions is a prerequisite for drawing an old table or conceiving a new one. to design means to express in a language that involves rendering. it also involves understanding that practical expectations are connected to the projected object. consequently, to design means to experience the table in advance of its physical embodiment. thus designing is the virtual practical experience, at the borderline between what is and what new experiences of self-constitution require. in designing, people virtually project their own biological and cultural characteristics in whatever they conceive. this corresponds to the reality that design is derived from practical experiences, extending what is possible to what is desirable. functionality expresses this condition, though only partially. with the emergence of conditions embodied in the underlying structure reflected in literacy, image and literate renditions-statements of goal and purpose, descriptions of means, procedures for evaluation-met. literacy then effected changes in the condition of design. these are reflected as general expectations of permanence, universality, dualism, centralism, and hierarchy. international style-an expression that really covers more than the name of a style-reflects these literate expectations from design. is drawing natural? the meaning of such a question can be conjured only if articulated with its pendant: is literacy unnatural or artificial? everything already stated about drawing implies that it is not natural, though it is closer to what it represents than words are. except for metaphoric qualifications, there is no such thing as drawing an abstraction of drawing, although there is abstract drawing. through drawing, persons constitute themselves as having the ability to see, to understand (for instance, the invisible part of objects, how light affects an image, how color or texture makes an object seem lighter or rounder), to relate to the pragmatic context as definitory of the meaning of both the object-real or imagined-and the drawing. different contexts make different ways of drawing possible. disconnected from the context, drawing is almost like the babble of a child, or like a fragmented, unfinished expression. vitruvius had a culture of drawing very different from that of the many architects who followed him. critics who compared him to le corbusier and his architectural renditions, to the architects of post-structuralism, and to the deconstructivists and deconstructivist designers declared the drawings of these architects to be ugly, bad, or inappropriate (tom wolfe went on record with this). at this instance, drawing ceases to be an adjunct to art; it petitions its own legitimacy. if we ignore the pragmatic context and the major transition from a design initially influenced by language-vitruvius wrote a monumental work on architecture-the statement stands. but what we face here is a process in time: from design influenced by the pragmatics embodied in vitruvius' work, to design subordinated to literacy, and finally to design struggling for emancipation as a new language, in which the critical component is as present as the constructive impulse to change the world. design carries over many formal requirements from practical experiences subordinated to literacy. but there is also an underlying conflict between design and language, moreover between design and literacy. this conflict was never resolved inside the experience of designing. in society, literacy imposed its formative structure on education, and what resulted was design education with a strong liberal arts component. needless to say, designers, whether professionals in the field or students (designers-to-be), resented and resent the assumption that their trade needs to be elevated to the pedestal of the eternal values embodied in literacy. instead of being stimulated to discover the need for literacy-based values in concrete contexts, design and design education are subjected to the traditional smorgasbord of history, language, philosophy, a little science, and many free choices. its own theoretic level, or at least the quest for a theory, is discarded as frivolous. moreover, the elements grouped under intuition are systematically explained away, instead of being stimulated. whereas the context of education allows for the artificial maintenance of literacy- based training programs in design, the broader context of pragmatic experiences confirms the dynamic changes design brought about since the profession ascertained its identity. the conflict between training and engaging prompted efforts to free design from constraints that affect its very nature: how do we get rid of the mechanical components of design (paste-up, rendering, model making)? these efforts came from outside the educational framework and were stimulated by the general dynamics of change from the pragmatics of literacy to the pragmatics of the civilization of illiteracy. the change brought about the emergence of new design tools that open fresh perspectives for the expression of design: animation, interactivity, and simulation. it also encouraged designers to research within the realm of their domain, to inquire into the many aspects of their concern, and to express their findings in new designs. the computer desktop and various rapid prototyping tools brought execution closer to designers. it also introduced new mediating layers in the design process. breakaway the majority of all artifacts in use today are either the result of the design revolution at the beginning of the th century, or of efforts to redesign everyday objects for use in new contexts of practical experiences. from the telephone to the television set, from the automobile to the airplane and helicopter, from the lead pencil to the fountain pen and disposable ball-point pen, from the typewriter to the word processor, from cash registers to laser readers, from stoves to microwave ovens-the list can go on and on-a new world has been designed and manufactured. the next world is already knocking at the door with robots, voice commanded machines, and even interconnected intelligent systems that we might use, or that might use us, in some form. the steam and pneumatic engines fired by coal, oil, or gas are being replaced by highly efficient, compact, electric or magneto-electric engines integrated in the machines they drive, controlled by sophisticated electronic devices. there is almost nothing stemming from the age that made literacy necessary that will not be replaced by higher efficiency alternatives, by structurally different means. what about the technology of literacy? one can only repeat what once was a good advertisement line: "the typewriter is to the pen what the sewing machine (remember the machine driven by foot power?) is to the needle." remington produced the beautiful sholes and glidden typewriter in the 's. it was difficult to decide whether the ornate object, displaying hand-stenciled polychrome flowers, belonged in the office or in a victorian study. now it is a museum piece. compare it to the word processor of today. its casing might survive the renewal cycle of two to three years that hardware goes through. the chip's processing abilities will double every eighteen months, in accordance with moore's law. the software, the heart and mind of the machine, is improved almost continuously. now it provides for checking spelling, contains dictionaries, checks syntax and suggests stylistic changes. soon it will take dictation. then it will probably disappear; first, because the computer can reside on the network and be used as needed, and second, the written message will no longer be appropriate in the new context. those who question this rather pedestrian prediction might want to ask themselves some other questions: where is the ornamental ink stand, the beautiful designs by fabergé and tiffany? where are the fountain pens, the gestetner machines? carbon paper? are they replaced by miniature tape recorders or pocket computers, by integrated miniature machines that themselves integrate the wireless telephone? are they replaced by the computer, the internet browser, and digital television? edward bulwer-lytton gave us the slogan "the pen is mightier than the sword." today, the function of each is different from what it was when he referred to them. they became collectibles. the disposable pen is symptomatic of a civilization that discards not only the pen, but also writing. the breakaway of design occurs first of all at structural levels. it is one thing to write a letter, manuscript, or business plan with a pencil, quite another to do the same on a typewriter, and even more different to use a word processor for these purposes, or to rely on the internet. the cognitive implications of the experience-what kinds of processes take place in the mind-cause the output to be different in each case. no medium is passive. in each medium, previous experiences and patterns of interaction are accumulated. the more interaction there is to a process, and sometimes to a collaborative effort, the more the condition of writing itself changes. we can think of messages addressed to many people at once. think of the mullah chanting evening prayers at the top of a minaret; or of the priest addressing a congregation; of the president of a nation using the powerful means of television, or of a spammer on the internet, distributing messages to millions of e-mail addresses. each communication is framed in a context constituting its parameters of pre-understanding. to the majority, spam means no more than chopped meat in a can. even today, over % of the world's people have never used a telephone. and with some million people on the internet, netizenship is more vision than reality. design as a semiotic integrative practical experience is a matter of both communication and context. the possibility to customize a message so that it is addressed not to an anonymous group (the believers gathered for the occasion, or members of society eager to learn about political decisions affecting their lives), but to each individual, reflecting concern for each one's individual condition and respect for his or her contribution in a system of distributed tasks, was opened by design. the semiosis of group and mass communication is very different from the semiosis of pointcasting. technologically, everything is available for this individualized communication. however, it does not occur because of the implicit literate expectation in the functioning of church, state, education, commerce and other institutions. design experiences submit the centrality of the writer to reassessment. one relates to the literate model of one-to-many communication. this model is based on the assumption of hierarchy, within a context of sequential interaction (the word is uttered, the listener understands it, reacts, etc.). in the industrial pragmatic framework, this was an efficient model. perfected through the experience of television, it reached globality. but scale is not only sheer numbers. more important are interactions, intensities, the efficient matching of each individual's needs and expectations. thus, efficiency no longer means how many individuals are at the receiving end of the communication channel, but how many channels are necessary to effectively reach everyone. a different design can change the structure of communication and introduce participatory elements. for those still captive to literacy, the alternative is the ubiquitous word-processed letter matched to a list in a database. for those able to re-think and reformulate their goals, effectiveness means transcending the literate structure. the challenge begins at knowing the language of the individuals, mapping their characteristics (cognitive, emotional, physical), and addressing them specifically. the result of this effort is represented by individualized messages, addressing in parallel people who are concerned about similar issues (environment, education, the role of the family). moreover, it is possible to have many people write together, or to combine one person's text with someone else's image, with animation, spoken words, or music. in the design effort that takes the lead here, hierarchies are abolished, and new interactions among people are stimulated. the design that leads to such patterns of human experiences must free itself from the constraints of sequentiality. such design can no longer be subject to the duality of good or bad, as frequently related to form (in particular, typography, layout, coherence). rather, it covers a continuum between less appropriate to very well adapted to the scope of the activity. no longer cast in metal, wood, or stone, but left in a soft condition (as software or as a variable, self-adaptive set of rules), the design can improve, change, and reach its optimum through many contributions from those who effectively constitute their identity interacting with it. the user can effectively finish the design by choosing identifiers and modifying, within given limits, the shape, color, texture, feel, and even function of the artifact. there is also a deeper level of knowing the language of the individuals addressed. at this level, to know the language means to know the experience. henceforth, the new design no longer takes place at a syntactic or a semantic level, but is pragmatically driven. to reach every individual means to constitute a context for a significant practical experience: learning, participation in political decisions, making art, and many others. but let us be realistic as we experience the urge to convey a sense of optimism: the common practical experience involves partaking in the distribution of the wealth and prosperity generated in this extremely efficient pragmatic framework. as discouraging as this might sound, in the last analysis, consumption, extremely individualized, constitutes the most engaging opportunity for efficient pointcasting. the questions entertained today by visionaries, innovators, and venture capitalists placing their bets on the internet might not always make this conclusion clear. convergence and divergence telecommunications, media, and computation converge. what makes the convergence possible and necessary is a combination of factors united in the necessity to reach efficiency appropriate to human practical experiences at the global scale of existence and work. it is within this broad dynamics and inner dynamics that design ascertains itself as a force for change from the civilization of literacy to the civilization of many, sometimes contradictory, literacies. a shirt used to be mere clothing; the t-shirt became, in view of many concurrent forces, a new icon, a sui generis medium of communication. the commercial aspect is obvious. for example, each university of certain renown has licensing arrangements with some manufacturer who advertises the name on the walking billboards of chests, backs, and bellies. the t-shirt effectively replaces wordy press statements and becomes an instance of live news. before operation desert storm got into full swing, the t-shirt already signaled love for the troops or, alternatively, anti-war sentiment. magic johnson's admission that he had tested hiv positive was followed, less than two days later, by the "we still love you" t- shirts in los angeles. the quasi-instantaneous annotation of events is in keeping with the fast change of attitudes and expectations. institutions have inertia; they cannot keep up with the rhythm of the times. the news, formed and conveyed outside the institution of media, reads as a manifesto of immediacy, but also as a testimony to ephemerality. we actually lose our shirts on the immediate, not on the permanent. design projects this sense of immediacy and ephemerality not only through t-shirts or the internet. the house, clothes, cars, the walkman, everything is part of this cycle. is design the cause of this, or is it something else, expressed through design, or to which designers become accomplice? the shorter fashion cycles, the permanent renewal of design forms, the -second drama or comedy of advertisement-more appropriate to the rhythms of existence than never-ending soap-operas-the new vlsi board, the craze for designer non-alcoholic beer or low-fat pork-all testify to a renewal speed met by what seems an inexhaustible appetite on the side of our current commercial democracy. the refresh rate of images on our tv sets and computer monitors, predicated by the intrinsic characteristics of technology and human biology, is probably the extreme at which cycles of change can settle. to take all this with enthusiasm or trepidation, without understanding why and how it happens, would contradict the basic assumption pursued in this book. the pragmatic context of high efficiency is also one of generalized democracy, extended from production to consumption. the ubiquitous engine driving the process is the possibility, indeed necessity, of human emancipation from all possible constraints. the experience of design acknowledges that emancipation from constraints does not ultimately result in some kind of anarchic paradise. the right to partake in what human experiences generate often takes the form of taste that is equalized and rendered uniform, and of ever-expanding choices that ultimately turn out be mediocre. as a reaction to the implicit system of values of literacy, related to limited choices, illiterate design expression does not impose upon the user in design, but involves the user in choices to be made. in this way, design becomes an indicator of the state of public intelligence, taste, and interest. it also points to a new condition of values. the indicator might not always show a pretty picture of who we are, and what our priorities are. the honest interpretation of such an indicator can open avenues to understanding why the walkman-which seems to seduce people by an ideal of insulation from others-has the success it has, why some fashion designs catch on and others don't, why some car models find acceptance, why movies on significant themes fail, and why, on a more general level, quality does not necessarily improve under circumstances of expectations in continuous expansion. new thresholds are set by each new design attempt. the wearable computer is yet another gadget in the open- ended development that unites evolution and revolution. the need to achieve high levels of efficiency corresponding to the current human scale is probably the aspect most ignored. efficiency, pre-programmed through design, confirms that human involvement is expensive (do-it-yourself dominates at all levels of design), and service more profitable than manufacturing in developed countries. none of these solutions can be taken lightheartedly. after all, design bridges to the future, and to bridge to a world of depleted resources, destroyed ecology, and a mediocre human condition is not necessarily a good reason for optimism. the goal of reducing human involvement, especially when the human is forced into exhausting and dangerous experiences, is very attractive, but also misleading. to reduce human involvement, energies different from those of an individual involved in experiences of self-constitution as a user need to be provided. faced with the challenge posed by the dualistic choice expectations vs. resources, designers often fail to free themselves from the literate ideology of dominating nature. fortunately, design based on co-evolution with nature is gaining momentum. so is the design of materials endowed with characteristics usually associated with human intelligence. the inherent opposition between means and goals explains the dynamics of design in our time. extremely efficient methods of communication lead to information saturation. new methods for designing result in an apparent overabundance of artifacts and other products of design. it seems that the driving force is the possibility to practically meet individual expectations at levels of productivity higher than those of literacy-based mass production, and at costs well below those of mass production. the challenge-how to maintain quality and integrity-is real and involves more than professional standards. market-specific processes, probably well reflected in the notion of profit, affect design decisions to the extent that often human practical experiences in the market result in under-designing or over-designing negotiated items. changing expectations, as a consequence of rapidly changing contexts of human experiences, affect the design cycle even more than the production cycle. the ability to meet such changes by a built-in design variability is, however, not only a test of design, but also of its implicit economic equation. enormous segments of the world population are addressed by design. this fact gives the design experience, taken in its entirety, a new social dimension. against the background of the opportunity to fine-tune designs to each individual without the need to build on expected literacy, the responsibility of such an activity is probably unprecedented. whether designers are aware of it, and able to work within the boundaries of such an experience, is a different question. the new designer designs mediate between requirements resulting from human practical experiences and possibilities (gibson defined them as affordances) in nature and society. they embody expectations and plans for change; and they need to interface between the given and the desired or the expected. the language of design has an implicit set of anticipations and a projected endurance. aesthetic structuring, culturally rooted and technologically supported, affects the efficiency of designed items. the explicit set of expectations is measured against this implicit set of anticipations. it translates from the many languages of human practical experiences to the language of design, and from here to the ways and means of embodying design in a product, event, message, material, or interaction. it is interesting to consider the process of designing from as many perspectives as possible. from the thumbnail sketch to the many variations of a conceptual scheme, one eliminating the other, many decisions are arrived at. design resembles a natural selection process: one solution eliminates the other, and so on until a relatively appropriate design emerges. this is the memetic scheme, successfully translated into design software programs based on genetic algorithms. in the absence of rules, such as those guiding literacy, and freed from dualistic thinking (the clear-cut good vs. bad), the designer explores a continuum of answers to questions that arise during the design process. the fact that various solutions compete with each other confers a certain drama on design. its open-endedness projects a sense of change. its mediating nature explains much of its engaging aspect. there is an obvious difference between the design experience within a context of assuming identity between the body and machines, and the new context of digital cloning of the human being. designs in the area of neurobionics, robotic prosthetics, and even the cyber-body could not have emerged from any other pragmatic context but the one on which the civilization of illiteracy is established. still, if someone had to choose between the greek temple typewriter of and today's word processor, thoughtlessly designed and encased in cheap plastic, the choice would be difficult. one is an object of distinct beauty, reflecting an ideal we can no longer support. its distinction made it unavailable to many people who needed such an instrument. behind or inside the word processor, as behind any digital processing machine, are standardized components. the entire machine is a highly modular ensemble. one program is the archetype for all the word processing that ever existed. the rest is bells and whistles. here is indeed the crux of the matter: the ability to achieve maximum efficiency based on the recognition that raw materials and energy mean nothing unless the creative mind, applied to tasks relevant to human experiences of self-constitution, makes something out of them. in the line of the argument followed, design sometimes seems demonized for what we all experience as waste and disdain for the environment, or lack of commitment to the people replaced by new machines. that people eventually become addicted to the products of design-television sets, electronic gadgets, designer fashion, designer drugs-is an irony soon forgotten. at other times, design seems idealized for finding a way to maximize the efficiency of human practical experiences, or for projecting a challenging sense of quality against the background of our obsession with more at the lowest price. but it is not so much the activity as the people who are the activity that make either the criticism or glorification of design meaningful. this brings up the identity of the designer in the civilization of illiteracy. designers master certain parts of the vast realm of the visual. some are exquisite in visualizing language: type designers, graphic artists, bookmakers; others, in realizing -dimensional space either as product designers, architects, or engineers. some see design dynamically-clothes live the life of the wearer; gardens change from season to season, year to year; toys are played with; and animation is design with its own heart (anima). the variety of design experiences is only marginally controlled by design principles. there is integrity to design, consistence and pertinence, and there are aesthetic qualities. but if anyone would like to study design in its generality, the first lesson would be that there is no alphabet or rule for correct design, and no generally accepted criteria for evaluation. literacy operates from top (vocabulary, grammar rules, and phonetics are given in advance) to bottom. design operates the opposite way, from the particular context to new answers, continuously adding to a body of experience that seems inexhaustible. people expect their environment to be designed (clothes, shoes, furniture, jewelry, perfume, home interiors, games, landscape) in order to harmonize with their own design. there are models, just as in the design process, mainly celebrities, themselves designed for public consumption. and there is the attempt to live life as a continuum of designed events: birth, baptism, communion, graduations (at different moments in the cycle of designed education), engagement, marriage, anniversaries, promotions, retirement, estate planning, funerals, estate execution, and wars. as a designed practical experience involving a variety of mediations, life can be very efficient, but probably not rewarding (in terms of quality) at the same time. the conclusion applies to the result of all design activities-products, materials, events. they make possible new levels of convenience, but they also remove some of the challenges people face and through which human personality emerges. the relation between challenges-of satisfying needs or meeting higher and higher expectations-and the emergence of personality is quite intricate. every practical experience expresses new aspects of the individual. personality integrates these aspects over time and is projected, together with biological and cultural characteristics, in the never-ending succession of encounters of new situations, and consequently new people. the civilization of illiteracy shifts focus from the exceptional to the average, generating expectations affordable to everyone. the space of choices thus opened is appropriate to the endless quest for novelty, but not necessarily for the affirmation of the extraordinary. in most cases, the designer disappears (including his or her name) in the designed product, material, or event. nobody ever cared to know who designed the walkman, computers, earth stations, or new materials, or who designs designer jeans, dresses, glasses, and sneakers, tour packages, and olympic games. no one even cares who designs web sites, regardless of whether they attract many interactions or turn out to be only ego trips. names are sold and applied on labels for their recognition value alone. no one cares whether there is a real person behind the name as long as the name trades well on the market in which the very same bag, watch, sneakers, or frame for glasses, sells under different identifiers. this has to be seen in the broader picture of the general disconnectedness among people. very few care to know who their neighbors or colleagues are, even less who the other people are who namelessly participate in expected abundance or in ecological self-destruction. illiteracy indeed does away with the opaqueness of literacy- based human relations. all the means through which new practical experiences take place make each of us subject to the transparency of illiteracy. the result is even deeper integration of the individual in the shared databank of information through which our profile of commercial democracy is drawn. design endlessly interprets information. each time we step out of the private sphere-to visit a doctor or lawyer, to buy a pair of shoes, to build a house, to take a trip, to search for information on the internet-we become more and more transparent, more and more part of the public domain. but transparency, sometimes savage in competitive life (economy, politics, intelligence), does not bring people closer. as we celebrate new opportunities, we should not lose sight of what is lost in the process. designing the virtual the experience of design is one of signs and their infinite manipulation. it takes place in an experiential context that moved away from the object, away from immediacy and from co-presence. some people would say it moved from the real, without thinking that signs are as real as anything else. when pushing this experience to its limits, the designer lands in imaginary territories of extreme richness. one can imagine a city built underwater, or a spherical house that can be rolled from location to location, devices of all kinds, clothing as thin as someone's thought, or as thick as tree bark or a rubber tire. one can imagine the wearable computer, new intelligent materials, even new human beings. once the imagination is opened to fresh human endeavors-live in an underwater city, wear the lightest or heaviest clothing, interconnect with the world through what you wear, interact with new, genetically engineered humans-virtual space is opened for investigation. regardless of how a virtual experience is made possible-drawings, diagrams, combinations of images and sounds, triggered dreams, happenings, or the digital embodiment of virtual reality-it escapes literacy-based constraints and embodies new languages, especially synaesthetic languages. in fact, if design is a sign focused on the practical experience, the design of virtual space is one level beyond, i.e., it is in the meta-sign domain. this observation defines a realm where the person frees himself from the structures characteristic of literacy. in virtuality, the sequentiality of written language is overwritten by the very configurational nature of the context. reciprocal relations among objects are not necessarily linear because their descriptions are no longer based on the reductionist approach. this is a universe designed as vague and allowing for the logic of vagueness. within virtual space, self-constitution, hence identification, no longer regards cultural reference, which is literacy-based, but a changing self-reference. all attempts to see how a human being would develop in the absence of language could finally be embodied in the individual experience of a being whose mind reaches a state of tabula rasa (clean slate) in the virtual. that such an experience turns out to be a design experience, not a biological accident (e.g., a child who grew up among animals, whose language fails to develop and whose behavior is uncouth), is relevant insofar as freedom from language can be investigated only in relation to its consequences pertaining to human practical experiences. virtuality is actually the generic reality of all and any design practical experience. from among the very many designs in a state of virtuality, only a small number will become real. what gives one or another design a chance to transcend virtuality are contextual dependencies within any defined pragmatic framework. designers do not simply look at birds flying and come up with airplanes, or at fish swimming and come up with boats or submarines. there are many design experiences that are based on knowledge resulting from our interaction with nature. but there are many more that originate in the realm of humanity. there is nothing to imitate in nature that will lead to the computer, and even less that will lead to designing molecules, materials, and machines endowed with characteristics that allow for self-repair and virtual environments for learning difficult skills. design in the civilization of illiteracy relies foremost on human cognitive resources. experience, like most of the practical endeavors of this pragmatic framework, becomes predominantly computational and disseminates computational means. design human praxis, as the dominant factor of change from the pragmatics embodied in manufacturing to the new experiences of service economy, effected differentiations in respect to means of expression and communication, in respect to the role of representation, and to our position in regard to values. the electronic data storage and retrieval that complements the role of print, and progressively replaces it, results from the experience of design supported by fast and versatile digital data processing. when, at the social level, representation is replaced by individual activism, and by the militancy of interest groups, we also experience a diffusion of politics into the private, and to a certain extent, its appropriation by interest groups assembled around causes of short-term impact that keep changing. this change effects a shift from the expectation of authority, connected to literacy-based human experiences, to the slippery authority of individual choice. the designed world of artifacts, environments, materials, messages, and images (including the image of the individual) is a world of many choices, but of little concern for value. its life results from the exercise of freedom to choose and freedom to re- design ad infinitum. almost everything designed under these new pragmatic conditions embodies expectations associated with illiteracy. the object no longer dominates. the impressive mechanical contraptions, the engines, the shift systems, articulations, precious finish-they all belong among the collectibles. quite to the contrary, the new object is designed to be idiot-proof (the gentler name is user friendly), reflecting a generalized notion of permissiveness that replaces discipline and self-control in our interaction with artifacts. design also affects change in our conception of fact and reality, stimulating the exploration of the imaginary, the virtual, and the meta-sign. facts are replaced by their representations and by representations of representations, and so on until the reference fades into oblivion. henceforth, the positivist expectations ingrained in the experiences of the civilization of literacy are reconstituted as a frame of relativist interactions, dominated by images, seconded by sounds (noise included). imaging technologies make drawing available to everyone, exactly as writing was available to those processed as literates. the photographic camera-drawing with light on film-the electronic camera, the television camera, the scanner, and the digitizer are, effectively, means for drawing and for processing the image in full control of all its components. a sound level can easily be added, and indeed sound augments the expressive power of images. interactivity, involved in the design process, adds the dimension of change. that literacy, as one of the many languages of the civilization of illiteracy, uses design in its various forms to further its own program is clear. probably less clear is that the literate experience is itself changed through such instances. after all, literacy is the civilization that started with the conventions of writing and grew to the one book open to all possible interpretations, as these were generated in the attempt to effectively conjure its meaning in new pragmatic contexts. literacy subjected to all the means that become possible in the civilization of illiteracy, in particular to those that design affords, results in the infinity of books, printed for the potential individual reader (or the very limited readership that a title or journal tends to have) who might finally give it one interpretation (equal to none) by placing it, unopened and unread, on a bookshelf. the radical description given above might still be far away from today's reality, but the dynamics of change points in this direction. on the internet, we come closer to what emerges as a qualitatively new form of human interaction. design is integrated in the networked world in a number of ways: communication protocols, hypertext, document and image layout, structure of interactive multimedia. but no one designer, and no one company (not even the institution of defense, which supports networking) can claim that it designed this new medium of human practical experiences. many individuals contributed, mostly unaware that their particular designs would fit in an evolving whole whose appearance and function (or breakdown) no one could predict. these kept changing by the year and hour, and will continue to change for the foreseeable and unforeseeable future. consider the design of communication protocols. this defies all there is to literacy. a word spelled correctly is disassembled, turned into packages that carry one letter at a time (or a portion of a letter), and given indications where they should arrive, but not through which route. eventually, they are reassembled, after each package travels its own path. but in order to become a word again, they are further processed according to their condition. such communication protocols negate the centrality and sequentiality of literacy and treat all that is information in the same way: images, sounds, movements. many other characteristics of literacy-dominated pragmatics are overridden in the dynamic world of interconnections: formal rules of language, determinism, dualistic distinctions. distributed resources support distributed activities. tremendous parallelism ensures the vitality of the exponentially increasing number and types of transactions. design itself, in line with almost any conceivable form of practical experience, becomes global. enthusiasm aside, all this is still very much a beginning. networks, for transportation (trains, buses, airplanes, highways), for communication (telephone, telegraph, television), for energy distribution (electric wires, gas pipelines) were designed long before we knew of computers and digital processing. in the context in which human cognitive resources take precedence over any other resources, as we face efficiency requirements of the global scale of humankind, connecting minds is not an evolutionary aspect of design, but a revolutionary step. all the networks mentioned above can participate in the emergence of humankind's integrated network. their potential as more than carriers of voice messages, electricity, gas, or railway passengers is far from being used in the ways it can and should be. design experiences of integration will make the slogan of convergence, applied to the integration of telecommunication, media, and computing, a reality that extends beyond these components. in some curious ways, the netizen-the citizen of the digitally integrated world-is a consequence of our self-identification in practical activities based on a qualitatively new understanding of design. politics: there was never so much beginning hölderlin's verse, "there was never so much beginning" (so viel anfang war noch nie) captures the spirit of our time. it applies to many beginnings: of new paradigms in science, of technological directions, of art and literature. it is probably most applicable to the beginnings in political life. the political map of the world has changed more rapidly than we can remember from anything that books have told us. it is dangerous to generalize from events not really settled. but it is impossible to ignore them, especially when they appear to confirm the transition from the civilization of literacy to the civilization of illiteracy. people who deal with the development and behavior of the human species believe that cooperative effort explains the development of language, if not its emergence. cooperative effort is also the root of human self-constitution as political animals. the social dimension, starting with awareness of kinship and followed by commitments to non-kin is, in addition to tool-making, the driving force of human intellectual growth. simply put, the qualifiers political animal (zoon politikon) and speaking animal (zoon phonanta) are tightly connected. but this relationship does not fully address the nature of political human experiences. different types of animals also develop patterns of interaction that could be qualified as social, without reaching the cognitive sophistication of the species homo habilis. they also exchange information, mainly through gestures, noises, and biochemical signals. tracking food, signaling danger, and entrance into cooperative effort are documented aspects of animal life. none of these qualifies them as political animals; neither do the means involved qualify as language. politics, in its incipient forms or in today's sophisticated manifestations, is a distinct set of interhuman relationships made necessary by the conscious need to optimize practical experiences of human self-constitution. politics is not equivalent to the formation of a pack of wolves, to the herding tendency of deer, nor to the complex relations within a beehive. moreover, politics is not reducible to sheer survival strategies, no matter how sophisticated, which are characteristic of some primates, and probably other animals. the underlying structure of the activities through which humans identify themselves is embodied in human acts, be they of the nature of tool-making, sharing immediate or remote goals, and establishing reciprocal obligations of a material or spiritual nature. changes in the circumstances of practical experiences effect changes in the way humans relate to each other. that the scale of human worlds, and thus the scale of human practical experience, is changing corresponds to the dynamics of the species' constitution. incipient agricultural activity and the formation of the many families of languages correspond to a time when a critical mass was reached. at this threshold, syncretic human interaction was already rooted in well defined patterns of practical experience. the pragmatic framework shaped the incipient political life, and was in turn stimulated by it. politics emerged once the complexity of human interactions increased. political practical experiences are related to work, to beliefs, to natural and cultural distinctions, even to geography, to the extent to which the environment makes some forms of human experiences possible. this is why, from a historic perspective, politics is never disassociated from economic life, religion, racial or ethnic identity, geography, art, or science. the underlying structure of human praxis that determined the need for literacy also determined the need for appropriate means of expression, communication, and signification. this becomes even more obvious in politics, which is embedded in literacy-based pragmatics. consequently, once the particular pragmatic circumstances change, the nature, the means, and the goals of politics should change as well. the commercial democracy of permissiveness the condition of politics in a pragmatic framework of non-sequentiality, non- linear functional dependencies, non-determinism, decentralized, non-hierarchic modes of interaction or accelerated dynamics, extreme competitive pressure-that is, in the framework of the civilization of illiteracy-currently escapes definition. state of flux appropriately describes what such a political experience can be. what we have today, however, is a conflict between politics anchored in the pragmatics that is still based on literacy and politics shaped by forces representing the pragmatic need to transcend literacy. the conflict affects the condition of politics and the nature of contemporary political action. it affects everything related to the social contract and its implementation: education, exercise of democracy, practice of law, defense, social policies, and international affairs. changes affecting current political experiences are part of a sweeping dynamics. these changes range from the acknowledged transition from an industrially based national economy to an information processing global economy focused on service. part of the change is reflected in the transition from national economies of scarcity (usually complemented by patterns of preserving and saving) to large, integrated commercial economies of access, even right, to consumption and affluence. established in the context of political movements that focused on individuality, these integrated economies affect, in turn, the condition of the individual, who no longer sees the need for self-restraint or self-denial, and indulges in the commercial democracy of permissiveness. consequently, political trials are met, or avoided, with an epicurean response: withdrawal from public life for the pleasures of buying, entertainment, travel, and sport, which in a not-so-distant past only the rich and powerful could enjoy. politics itself, as huxley prophesied in his description of the brave, new world, becomes a form of entertainment, or yet another competitive instant, not far from the spirit and letter of the stock market, of the auction house, or the gambling casino. political involvement in a democracy of permissiveness is channeled into various forms of activism, all expressions of the shift from the politics of authority to that of expanding freedom of choice. the new experience of increasingly interactive electronic media is probably correlated to the shift from the positivist test of facts, as it originated in science and expanded into social and political life, to the rather relativist expectation of successful representations, in public opinion polls, in staged political ceremonies, in the image we have of ourselves and others. albeit, the power of the media has already surpassed that of politics. all these considerations do not exhaust the process under discussion. they explain how particular types of activism-from emancipatory movements (feminist, racial, sexual) to the new action of groups identified through ethnic origin, lifestyle, concern for nature-use politics in its newer and older forms to further their own programs. openness, tolerance, the right to experiment, individualism, relativism, as well as attitudinally motivated movements are all illiterate in nature in the sense that they defy the structural characteristics of literacy and became possible only in post- literate contexts. some of these movements are still vaguely defined, but have become part of the political agenda of this period of fervor and upheaval. literacy, in search of arguments for its own survival, frequently embraces causes stemming from experiences that negate it. the impact of new self-constitutive practical experiences and definition on digital networks already qualifies these experiences as alternatives, regardless of how limited an individual's involvement with them is. within the realm of human interaction in the only uncensored medium known, a different political experience is taking shape. what counts in this new experience are not anonymous voters lumped into ineffective majorities, but individuals willing to partake in concrete decisions that affect their lives in the virtual communities of choice that they establish. while the mass media, still connected to the literate nest in which they were hatched, partake in the functioning of political machines that produce the next meaningless president, a different political dynamics, focused on the individual, is leading to more efficient forms of political practical experiences. there is nothing miraculous to report in this respect. notwithstanding, the internet can be credited for the defeat of the attempt in to turn back the political clock in russia, as well as for the way it is influencing events in china, east europe, and south america. how did we get here? human relations can be characterized, in retrospect, by recurrences. distinctions within self-constitutive experiences occur under the pressure of the realized need to achieve higher levels of efficiency. relations, which include a political component pertinent to cooperative efforts and the need to share the outcome, have been evinced since the syncretic phase of human activity. there is no distinct political dimension in the syncretic pragmatics of immediacy. incipient political identity, as any other kind of human self-identification, is foremostly natural: the strongest, the swiftest, those with the most acute senses are acknowledged as leaders. the most powerful are successful on their own account. and this success translates into survival: more food, more offspring, resilience, ability to escape danger. once the natural is humanized, the qualities that make some individuals better than others were acknowledged in the realms of nature and human nature. whether as tribal leaders, spiritual animators, or priests, they all accomplished political functions and continuously reaffirmed the reasons for their perceived authority. over time, natural qualities lost their determinant role. characteristics based on human nature, in particular intellectual qualities such as communication skills and management and planning abilities, progressively tipped the balance. current textbooks defining politics do not even mention natural abilities, focusing instead on the art or science of governing, shrewdness in promoting a policy, and contrivance. from participatory forms of political life, in which solidarity is more important than differences among people, to the forms characteristic of our time of personal and political shift away from each other, changes have taken place because human practice made them necessary. politics was not and is not a passive result of these changes, some of which it stimulated, others of which it opposed. the survival drive behind participatory forms was continuously redefined and became a different kind of assertion: not just better than other species, but better than those before us, better than others. competition shifted from the realm of nature-man against nature-to the realm of humanity. once the element of comparison to the other, or judgment by others, was introduced, hierarchy was established. hierarchy put on record became, with the advent of notation, and more so with the advent of writing, a component of experience, one of its structuring elements. it is no longer a here-and-now defined action of immediacy, but action expanded as progression over generations and societies, and among various societies. accordingly, while solidarity, though permanently subject to redefinition, was still in the background, the driving forces were quite different. they resulted from the need to establish a political practice of efficiency pertinent to the pragmatic framework, henceforth to the needs of the community. for as long as human activity was relatively homogeneous, there was no need for political delegation or for reifying political goals into rules or organizations. once diversification became possible, the task of integration, to which rituals, myths, religion, assignment distribution, and leadership contributed, changed. not only did people involve more of their past in new practical experiences, but they also started to keep records and to measure the adequacy of effort, and thus the appropriateness of their own policies. attention to their past, present, and future also allowed them to become aware of the means that distinguished political practical experiences from all other experiences (magic, myth, religion). it was a difficult undertaking, especially under the provisions of centralized, syncretic authority. the natural, the magical, the religious, the logical, the economical, and the political mingled. the critical element proved to be represented by practical expectations. to implore unknown forces for rain, a successful hunt, or fertility was very different from articulating expectations related to what needs to be done to maintain the integrity of work and life. initially, these expectations were mixed. they progressively became more focused, and a sense of accountability, based on tangible results, embodied in comparisons, was introduced. while self-constitution is the projection of individual characteristics (biological, cultural) in a given practical experience, political practice is to a great extent a projection of expectations. at each juncture in humankind's practical experience, the previous expectation is carried over as new expectations appear. accordingly, it is expected that a political leader will embody, in fact or through the symbolism of authority, natural qualities, cognitive abilities, and communication skills (rhetoric included), among other attributes. when these expectations are embodied in specific functions (tribal chief, judge, army commander, elected legislator, or selected member of the executive body) and in political institutions, the projection is no longer that of individuals, but of the society committed to the goals and means expressed, to its acknowledged values. whether indeed each tribal leader was the fastest, or each judge the most impartial in ascertaining the damage done by a person who defied rules of life and work, whether the military leader was the bravest, or the legislator the wisest, became almost irrelevant after their political recognition. expectation overcame reality. this aspect becomes very significant in the context of literacy. moreover, it becomes critical in the transition from the pragmatics on which literacy is based to a pragmatic framework in respect to which literacy requirements only hinder. political institutions firmly grounded in the assumptions of literacy still debate whether tele-communting is acceptable, tele-commerce secure, or tele-banking in the national interest. while the debates are going on, these new practical experiences are taking hold in the global economy. networks, in full expansion, are altering the nature of human transactions to the extent that fewer and fewer people participate in elections because they know that the function of these elections-to present choice-is no longer politically relevant. there is a need to bring politics closer to individuals; and this need can be acknowledged only within structures of individual empowerment, as opposed to empty representation. political activity resulted in norms, institutions, values, and a consciousness of belonging to society. not by any stretch of the imagination is politics a harmonizing activity, because to live with others, to enter a contract and pursue one's individual goals within its limitations, means to accept a condition of a sui generis trade-off. political experiences involve, in various degrees, skills and knowledge for giving life and legitimacy to trade-offs. language is the blood that flows through the arteries of the political animal. when tamed by literacy, this language defines a very precise realm of political life. the heartbeat of the literate political animal corresponds to a rhythm of life and work controlled by literacy. the accelerated rhythm that became necessary under a new scale of experiences requires the liberation of political language from the control of literacy, and the participation of many languages in political experiences. it should come as no surprise that the expectation of language skills, even when language changes, in people involved in the practical experience of politics is carried over from one generation to another. regardless of the level of sophistication reached by a particular language, and of the specific form of political practice, effective use of powerful means of expression and communication is required. even when they did not know how to write, kings and emperors were regarded as being better writers than those who could. they would dictate to the scribe, who created the perception that they probably translated what higher authorities whispered into their ears. even when their rhetoric was weak, the masters of persuasion they used were seen as only agents of power. books were attributed to political leaders; victory in war was credited to them, as well as to military commanders. law codes were associated with their names, and even miracles, when politics joined the forces of magic and religion (often playing one against the other). all this and more represent the projection of expectations. the particular expectations of literacy confirm values associated with its characteristics. politics and the ideals embodied in the enlightenment-it carried into action political aspirations originating in religion-and the industrial revolution cannot be separated. expectations of permanency, universality, reason, democracy, and stability were all embodied in the political experience. new forms of political activism were encouraged by literacy and new institutions emerged. awareness of boundaries among cultures and languages increased. centralism was instituted, and hierarchies, some very subtle, others insidious, were promoted with the help of the very powerful instrument of language. within this context, the practical experience of politics established its own domain and its own criteria for effectiveness, very different from those in the ancient city-state or in the pragmatics of feudalism. identification of the professional politician, different from the heir to power, was part of this process. politics opened to the public and affirmed tolerance, respect for the individual, and equality of all people before the law. political functions were defined and political institutions formed. rules for their proper operation were encoded through literate means. the alliance between politics and literacy would eventually turn into an incestuous love, but before that happened, emancipation of human political experiences would reach a historic climax in the revolutions that took place during this time. to celebrate all these accomplishments, while remaining aware of the many shadows cast upon them by prejudices carried over from previous political experiences (in regard to sex, race, religion, ownership), was a task of monumental dimensions. we can and must acknowledge that human political experiences played a more important role than in previous social contexts in maximizing efficiency in the pragmatic framework that made literacy necessary. it was at this time that the role of education, and especially the significance of access to it, were politically defined and pursued according to the efficiency expectations that led to the industrial revolution. the process was far from being universal. the western part of the world took the lead. its political institutions encouraged investment, and education was such an investment. political institutions reflect the pragmatic condition of the citizen and, in turn, effect changes in the experience of people's life and work. while the word illiteracy probably first appeared print in in an english publication, in illiteracy in germany was only one per cent of the population: "heil dem könig, heil dem staat/ wo man gute schulen hat!" went the slogan hailing the king and state where good schools were the rule. this was the time when thomas alva edison invented the incandescent light bulb ( ); alexander graham bell, the telephone (patented in ); nicklaus otto, the four-stroke gas engine ( ); nikola tesla, the electric alternator ( ). nevertheless, before leo tolstoy wrote war and peace, he learned that only one per cent of all russians were literate. in many other parts of the world, the situation was not much better. in addition, this was also a time when literacy was literally an instrument of political discrimination. those not literate were looked down on, as were women (some held back from literacy and study), as were nations considered ignorant and of inferior morals (russia being one of them). reflected in the ability to dominate nature, the growth of science and the use of effective technological means influenced the political nature of states, as well as the relation among nations. rationality formed the foundation of legality; the state ascertained priority over individuals-a very direct reflection of its literate nature. rules were applied to everyone equally (which later translated into an effective "all are equal," quite different from the empty slogans of populist movements). the rationality in place derived from literacy. to be effective meant to dominate those who were less effective (citizens, communities, nations). far from being a historic account, these observations suggest that the literate political animal pursues political goals in line with the sequential nature of literacy in a context of centralized power, acknowledged hierarchies, and deterministic expectations. the political institution is a machine, one among many of the pragmatics of the industrial revolution. it did one thing at a time, and one part of the machine did not have to know what the other was doing. energy was used between input and output, and what resulted-political decisions, social policies, regulations-was mass production of whatever the society could negotiate: lubrication diminished friction. parties were formed, political programs articulated, and access to power opened to many. two premises were implicit in the literate discourse: people should be able to express opinions on issues of public interest; and they should be able to oversee the political process, assuming responsibility for the way they exercise their political rights. these two premises introduced an operational definition of democracy and freedom, eventually encoded in the doctrine of liberal democracy. they also confirmed the literate expectation that democracy and freedom, like literacy, are universal and eternal. the failure of literacy-based politics takes place on its own terms. dictatorships (left-wing and right-wing), nationalism, racism, colonialism, and the politics of disastrous wars and of the leveling of aspirations that leads to the mediocrity embodied in bureaucracy have brought the high hopes, raised during the climax of literate political action, to the low of indifference and cynicism we face in our day. instead of the people's broader participation in the political process, a hope raised by progress in making equality and freedom effectively possible, society faces the effects of the ubiquitous dedication to enjoyment in corrupted welfare states unable to meet the obligations they assumed, rightly or not. at times, it seems that the complexity of political experience prevents even the people's symbolic participation in government. volunteering and voting, a right for which people fought with a passion matched only by their current indifference, have lost their meaning. there is no proper feedback to reinforce the will and dedication to participate. it also seems that in advocating equality and freedom, a common denominator so low was established that politics can only administer mediocrity, but not stimulate excellence. from among all its functions, nationhood, as the embodiment of the experience of political self-constitution, seems to maintain only the function of redistribution. individual liberty, hard fought for under the many signs of literacy, appears to be conformistic at best, and opportunistic. to many citizens, it is questionable whether the lost sense of community is a fair trade-off for the acquired right to individualism. the hundreds of millions again and again seduced by the political discourse of hatred (in fascism, communism, nationalism, racism, fanaticism) wasted their hard-won rights in order to take away from others property, freedom of expression and religion, liberty, dignity, and eventually life. politics after auschwitz was not meant to become yet another instance of pettifogging. but it did, and we all are aware of the opportunistic appropriation of tragedy (hunger, oppression, disease, ecological disaster) in current political entertainment. the efficiency expected from political action under the assumptions of literacy is characteristic of the scale at which people constitute themselves. the nation is the world, or the only thing that counts in this world of opportunity and risk. the rest is, relatively speaking, superfluous. nations, even those that acknowledge the need to integrate, try to secure functioning as autonomous entities. national borders may be less guarded, but they are maintained as borders of literacy translated into economic opportunity. when the goal of autonomous existence is no longer attainable, expansion is the answer. ideological, racial, economic and other types of arguments are articulated in order to justify the extension of politics in the experience of battle. the two world wars brought literate politics to its climax, and the cold war (the first global battle) to its final crisis, but not yet to its end, even though the enemy vanished like a humorless ghost. a closer look at the systematic aspects of the political experience of human self- constitution should prepare us for approaching the current political condition. this should at least provide elements for understanding all those accumulated expectations that people have with respect to politics, politicians, and the institutions through which political goals are pursued. political goals are always practical goals, regardless of the language in which they are expressed or the rituals attached. as recurrent patterns of human relationships, political experiences appear to have a life of their own. this creates the impression that agreements dictated by practical reasons originate outside the experience, at the initiative of politicians, due to a certain event, or as the result of random choice. political tongues language is the instrument through which political practical experience takes place. to reconstitute past succeeding political experiences therefore means to reconstitute their language(s). the task is overwhelming because politics is mingled with every aspect of human life: work, property, family, sex, religion, education, ethics, and art. it is present even in the interrelations of these aspects because politics is also self-reflective. that is, the identity of one entity is related to the identity of others in relation to which self-identification takes place. the variety of political experiences corresponds to the variety of pragmatic circumstances within which humans project their identity. individual existence resulting from interaction with others extends to the realm of politics and is embodied in the recurrent patterns that make up expectations, goals, institutions, norms, conflicts, and power relations. the individual is concealed in all these. in some ways, politics is a social-educational practice resulting in the integration of instinctive actions (a-political) and learned modes of practice with social impact. what constitutes politics is the dynamics of relations as they become possible and as they unfold as openings towards new relations. one of the concrete forms of such relations is the propensity to coalition building. politics is contingent upon subjects interacting. their past (ontogeny) and present (pragmatics) are involved in these interactions. to a certain extent, it is a learned form of practice requiring means for interaction, among which language has been the most important. it is also a practice of investigation, discovery, and social testing. the manifold of political languages corresponds to the manifold of practical experiences. there are probably as many political tongues as there are circumstances of self-identification within a society. but against the background of this variety is the expectation that word and deed coincide, or at least that they do not stray too far from each other. the advent of writing changed politics because it attached written testimony to it, which became a referential element. as socrates and plato noticed, this was a blessing in disguise. since the time writing entered the political sphere, the practical argument shifted from the fact, argued and eventually settled, to the record. it became itself a practical experience of records (of property, law, order, agreements, negotiations, and allocations for the good of society). the institutions that emerged after the practical experience of writing operated within the structure of and in accordance with the expectations brought about by writing. and soon, as relative as soon can be, political self-consciousness was established parallel to political action and pursued as yet another practical experience. the many languages of political experience multiply once more in the new languages of political awareness. where values were the final goal of politics, the value of the political experience itself became a subject of concern. many political projects were pursued at this self-reflective level: conceiving new forms of human cooperation and political organization, advancement of ideas concerning education, prejudices, emancipation, and law. this explains, too, why in the sequence of political practical experiences, expectations did not nullify each other. they accumulated as an expression of an ideal, forever moving away from the last goal attained. without a good understanding of the process, nobody could account for the inner dynamics of political change. the same applies to accounting for the role played by political leaders, philosophers, and political organizations involved, by virtue of their own goals and functions, in political life. politics in the civilization of illiteracy is not politics out of the blue sky. along the continuum of political practical experiences, it entails expectations generated under different pragmatic circumstances. and it faces challenges-the major challenge being the efficiency expected in the new scale of human experience-for which its traditional means and its inherited structure are simply not adequate. political discontinuity is always more difficult to accept, even understand. revolutions are celebrated only after they take place, and especially after they successfully establish a semblance of stability. can literacy lead politics to failure? in our time, much is said regarding the perception that the language of politics and the political practice it seems to coordinate are very far apart. people's mistrust of politics appears to reach new heights. the role and importance of political leaders and institutions apparently have changed. the most able are not necessarily involved in politics. their self-constitution takes place in practical experiences more rewarding and more challenging than political activism. political institutions no longer represent the participants in the political contract, but pursue their own goals, survival included. law takes on a life of its own, more concerned, so the public perceives, with protecting the criminal, in the name of preserving civil rights, than upholding justice. taxes support extravagant governments and forms of social redistribution of wealth, more often reflecting a guilt complex over past inequities than authentic social solidarity. instead of promoting meaningful human relationships and addressing the future, they keep fixing the past. everyone complains, probably a phenomenon as old as any relation among people involved in a sui generis give-and-take interaction. but fewer and fewer are willing to do something because individual participation and effort appear useless in the given political structure. the majority of people look back to some prior political experience and interpret the past in the light of books they have read. they fail to realize that the complexity of today's human experience cannot be met by yesterday's solutions. they are convinced that if we are faithful to our political heritage, all problems, credibility and corruption included, will be solved. they also believe religious systems and their great books contain all that is needed to meet all imaginable present and future challenges. even the very honorable conviction that the founders of modern democracies prepared citizens to cope with this unprecedented present cannot go unchallenged. the constitution of the united states ( ) as well as the declaration of the rights of man and the citizen in france ( ) reflect the thinking and the prose of the civilization of literacy. similar documents are on record in latin america, europe, india, and japan. they are as useless as history can be when new circumstances of human self- constitution are totally different from the experiences that gave birth to these documents. revisionism will not do. the new context requires not a static collection of admirable principles, but dynamic political structures and procedures of the same nature as the pragmatics of shorter cycles of change, non-determinism, high efficiency, decentralization, and non-hierarchical modes of operation. as the world reinvents itself as interwoven, it breaks loose from prescriptions of local significance and traditional import. although the number of emerging nations has increased-and nobody knows how many more will emerge-we know of no political documents similar to those articulated in , , , or even . nothing comparable to the declaration of independence, the declaration of the rights of man and citizen, even the communist manifesto (no matter how discredited it is at present), whether in substance or style, has accompanied current political movements. the reason why no such document can emerge can be connected to the inadequacies of literacy-based politics. this civilization is no longer one of ideas, religious or secular. it is characterized by processes, methodologies, and inventions expressed in various sign systems that have a dynamics different from that of language and literacy. the ideas of the civilization of literacy address the mind, soul, and spirit. the most one can expect in our time of upheaval and change are provisions for establishing conditions for unhampered human interactions in the market and in other domains of human self-constitution (religion, education, family). steady globalization means that the health of national economies, education, sports, or art matters just as little as national borders and the theatrics of diplomacy and international relations. one can hear dostoyevsky's prophetic line: "if it's otherwise not possible, make us your servants, but make us full." it hurts to repeat it, but it will hurt more to ignore it at a time when nothing grows faster than the urge of millions of people to emigrate to any developed country willing to take them, even as second-class citizens, so long as they escape their current abysmal condition. the dynamics of change in the world is characterized by the acknowledged need of many countries to be integrated in the global economy while preserving or requiring a token of national identity. state sovereignty is self-delusive in the context of commercial, financial, or industrial autonomy that is impossible to achieve. self- determination, always to the detriment of some other ethnic group, echoes those tribal instincts that make the ideal of constitutional government an exercise in futility. the underlying structure of literacy is reflected in national movements and their dualistic system of values. the logic of the good and the bad, more difficult to define in a context of vagueness, but still pursued blindly, controls the way coalitions are established, migration of populations is handled, and national interests defended, while these very nations argue for integration and free market. nevertheless, the language of today's politics is, in the final analysis, shaped by the pragmatic framework. its sentences are written in the language of ledgers; the freedom it purports to establish is that of commercial democracy, of equal access to consumption, which happens to be the main political achievement of recent history. the fact that the nations forming the european community gave up sovereignty with respect to the market proves the point. that they still preserve diplomatic representation, defense functions, and immigration policies only attests to the conflict between the politics of the civilization of literacy and the politics of the civilization of illiteracy. the great documents of the literate past perpetuate the rhetoric of the time of their writing. all the structural characteristics of literacy, valid for the pragmatic framework that justifies them, deeply mark the letter and spirit of these documents. they ascertain politics as sequential, linear, and deterministic. they rejoice in promulgating ideals that correspond to the scale of humankind in which they guarantee the means that result in the efficiency of industrial and productive society. liberté, egalité, fraternité are shorthand for rights of conscience, ownership, and individual legal status. they are an expression of accepted hierarchy and centralism to the degree that these could be rendered relative as need required. expectations of permanency and universality were carried over from earlier political experiences, or from religion, even though separation of church and state was emphatically proclaimed during the french revolution, and in revolutions that took place afterwards. amendments required by altered circumstances of human self-constitution in practical experiences not anticipated in the documents render their spirit relative and solve some of the problems caused by the limitations mentioned. political documents, such as the ones mentioned above, are still perceived as sacrosanct, regardless of their obvious inadequacy in the pragmatic context of the civilization of illiteracy. it is one thing to establish the sanctity of property in a framework of agricultural praxis, whose politics was inspired by a shared expectation of cycles parallel to natural cycles. jefferson envisioned the land as a vast agrarian state. "we are a people of farmers. those who work the fields are the chosen people of god, if he had a chosen people. in their heart he planted the real virtue." it is quite another thing to live in a pragmatic context of new forms of property, some reflecting a notion of sequential accumulation, others an experience of work with machines, of humans seen as commodity. it is a new reality to live in today's integrated world of property as elusive as new designs, software, information, and ways to process it. to apply to this context political principles inspired by a movement that sought independence from england while using slaves brought from africa is questionable, at least. equality of natural rights, deriving from nature-based cycles, is quite different from equality of political rights and responsibilities deriving from a machine-inspired model for progress. both of these sources are different from the political status of people involved in a pragmatics of global networking and extreme task distribution. one can cautiously make the case that the major political documents of the past were conceived in reaction to an intolerable state of affairs and events, not proactively, in anticipation of new situations and expectations. these documents are the expression of the need to unify, homogenize, and integrate forces in a world of relatively autonomous entities-national states-competing more for resources and productive forces than for markets. the values reflected therein correspond to the values on which literacy is founded and for which literacy-inspired ideologies fought. but maybe these political documents are exemplary in another way, let's say as an expression of moral standards that we apparently lost in the course of years; or of cultural standards for both society and politicians, standards that can only rarely be acknowledged today, if at all. if this is the case, which is difficult to prove, what this seems to suggest is that the price paid for higher political efficiency is the lost ethics of politics, or its current deplorable intellectual condition. the lack of correlation between political practice and language results from the pragmatic context reflected in the condition of language itself. while in real life, many literacies are at work, literacy (with a capital l) still dominates the structure of politics. its rules are applied to forms of human interaction and evaluation that are not reducible to self-constitution in language. political activity by and large follows patterns characteristic of the civilization of literacy, despite its own indulgence in non-linguistic semioses: the use of images, film, and video, or the adoption of new networking technologies focused on information exchange. former expectations that politicians adhere to standards of the civilization of literacy are carried over in new political and practical experiences. the expectation that their literacy should match that of political documents belonging to the political tradition (the constitution of the united states of america, for instance) is paradoxical, though, since the majority of americans cannot recall what these political documents state. and they see no reason to find out. their own practical experience takes place in domains for which the past is of little consequence to their well-being. as things stand now, the political principles required by the dynamics of industrial society are embodied in institutions and laws dedicated to their own preservation. free of concern for their own freedom, politically rooted in a prior pragmatic framework, citizens take freedom for granted in their new practical experiences and end up evading the associated civic responsibility. they expect their politicians to be literate for them. we deal here with a strange mixture of assumptions: on the one hand, a notion of political life corresponding to a context of homogeneity and a deterministic view of the social world; on the other, a realization that today's world requires specialized political practical experience, means and methods characteristic of heterogeneous and non-deterministic political processes. the simmering conflict is met with the type of thinking that will not solve the problem because it is the problem. the coordination of political action through literacy-based language and methods and the dynamics of a new political practice, based on the characteristics of the civilization of illiteracy, simply diverge. as in many other domains of literate condition, it is as though institutions, norms, and regulations take on lives of their own, as literate language does, perpetuating their own values and expectations. they develop as networks of interaction with an autonomous dynamics, uncoupled from the dynamics of political life, even from the new pragmatic context. the tremendous amount of written language (speeches, articles, forms, contracts, regulations, laws, treatises) stands in contrast to the very fast changes that make almost every political text superfluous even before it is cast in the fast eroding medium of print or in the elusive bits and bytes of electronic processing. many economies have undergone, or realize they must undergo, profound restructuring. massive down-sizing, paralleled by flatter hierarchies and smoother quality control, have affected economic performance. but very little of this has touched the sacrosanct centralized state institutions. in the usa alone, departments, federal agencies employing more than . million civilians and . million military personnel account for $ . trillion in yearly expenditure. if the economy were as inefficient as political activity is, we would face a crisis of global proportion and consequences that are impossible to anticipate. this is why today, some citizens would write a declaration of independence that begins with the following line: "we're mad as hell and we're not going to take it anymore." but this would not mean that they would vote. when five times more people watch married with children than vote in primaries, one understands that the morality and intellectual quality of the politician and citizen correspond closely. cynical or not, this observation simply states that in the civilization of illiteracy, political action and criteria for evaluating politics do not follow the patterns of political practical experiences peculiar to the civilization of literacy. multiplied to infinity, choices no longer undergird values, but options that are equally mediocre. the issue of literacy from the perspective of politics is the issue of the means through which political practice takes place. a democracy resting solely upon the contribution to political life in and through literate language is at the same time captive to language. the experience of language resulted from developments not necessarily democratic in nature. embedded in literacy, past practical experiences pertinent to a pragmatic context appropriate to a different scale of humankind are often an obstacle to new experiences. so are our distinctions of sex, race, social status, space, time, religion, art, and sport. once in language, such distinctions simply live off the body of any new design for political action. language is not politically neutral, and even less so is the literate practice of language. various minority groups made a very valid point in stating this. power relations, established in political practice, often become relations in the literate use of language and of other means, as long as they are used according to literacy expectations. it is not that literacy prevents change; literacy allows for change within the systematic domain of practices relying on the literate practical experiences of language. but when literacy itself is challenged, as it is more and more in our day, it ends up opposing change. discrepancies between the language and actions of politics, politicians, and political institutions and programs result from the conflict between the horizon of literacy and the dynamics for which the literate use of language is ill equipped. if the formula deterioration of moral standards corresponds to the failure of politics to meet its constituency's expectations, the most pessimistic views about the future would be justified, because politicians are not better or worse than their constituency. but as with everything else in the new pragmatic context, it is no longer individual performance that ensures the success or failure of an activity. integrating procedures ascertain a different form of cooperation and competition. such processes are made possible by means characteristic of high efficiency pragmatics, that is, task distribution, parallelism and reciprocal testing, cooperation through networking, and automated procedures for planning and management. they are meaningful only in conjunction with motivations characteristic of this age. if, on the other hand, the romantic notion that the best become leaders were true of today's political experience, we would have cause to wonder at our own stupidity. in fact, it does not matter which person leads. political processes are so complex that the industrial model of successful stewardship no longer makes sense. political life in society does not depend on political competence, people's generosity, or self-motivation that escapes institutional, religious, or ideological coercion. the degree of efficiency, along with the right ascribed to people to partake in affluence, speaks in favor of political experiences driven by pragmatic forces. such forces are at work locally and make sense only within a context of direct effectiveness. but short of taking these forces for granted, we cannot escape the need to understand how they work and how their course can be controlled. crabs learned how to whistle some of today's political systems are identified as democracies, and others claim to be. some are identified as dictatorships of some sort, which almost none would accept as a qualifier. but no matter which label is applied, there is an obsession with literacy in all these systems. "we need literacy for democracy to survive," says the literacy special interest group. but how do dictatorships come about in literate populations? the biggest dictatorship (the soviet block) was proud of its high literacy rate, acknowledged by the western world as an accomplishment impossible to overlook. it fell because the underlying structural characteristics reflected in literacy collided with other requirements, mainly pragmatic. an empire, the fourth in the modern historic succession that started with the turkish empire and continued with the austro-hungarian and british empires, crumbled. what makes the fall of the soviet empire significant is its own underlying structure. the former members of comecon, those east european countries that, along with the soviet union, once formed the communist block, represent a good case study for the forces involved in the dynamics of illiteracy. while writing this book, i benefited from an experiment probably impossible to duplicate. a rigid structure of human activity, basically captive to a slightly amended paradigm of the industrial revolution, hailing itself as the workers' paradise, and laboring under the illusion of messianic collectivism, maintained literacy as its cultural foundation. even the harshest and blindest critics of the system had to agree that if anything of historic significance could be attributed to communism, it was its literacy program. large segments of the population, illiterate prior to communism, were taught to read and write. the school system, deficient in many ways, provided free and obligatory education, much better than its free medical system. this effort at education was intended to prepare the new generations for productive tasks, but also to subject each person to a program of indoctrination channeled through the powerful medium of literacy. questioned about his own ideas for the reform of the orthodox communist system, nikita kruschchev, the maverick leader of the post-stalin era, declared: "he who believes that we will give up the teachings of marx, engels, and lenin deludes himself tremendously. those who are waiting for this to happen will have to wait until crabs learn how to whistle." when, throughout russia, statues of lenin started falling and marx's name became synonymous with the failure of communism, people probably started hearing strange sounds from crustaceans. the abrupt and unexpected failure of the communist system-an event hailed as victory in a war as cold as the market can be-makes for unexpected proof of this book's major thesis. the breakdown of the soviet system can be seen as the failure of a structure that kept literacy as its major educational and instrumental medium, and relied on it for the dissemination of its ideological goals inside and outside the block. literacy, as such, did not fail, but the structures that literacy entails: limited efficiency, sequential practical experiences of human self-constitution in a hierarchic and centralized economy; deterministic (thus implicitly dualistic) working relations, a level of efficiency based on the industrial model of labor division, mediation subjected to central planning without choice as to the mediating elements; opaqueness expressed in an obsession with secrecy, and last but not least, failure to acknowledge the new scale of humankind-in short, a pragmatic framework whose characteristics are reflected in literacy-all led to the final result. indeed, the system acted to counter integration and globality. it maintained rigid national and political boundaries under the false assumption that insularity would allow a controlled and orderly exchange of goods and ideas, perpetuation and dissemination of an ideology of proletarian dictatorship, and eventually coexistence with the rest of the world under the assumption of its progressive conversion to communist values. in the doctrine of marx and engels, the proletariat appears endowed with all the qualities associated with divinity in the prototypic book (the old testament): omniscience, omnipotence, and right almost all the time. there is a self-creative moment in the historic process they described, resulting from political activism and commitment to change in the world. no one should lightly discard the utopian core or the ideal embodied in the doctrine. after all, nobody could argue against a world of freedom where each person participates with the best one has to offer, and is rewarded with everything one needs. free education, free medical care, access to art and liberty in a context of limitless unfolding of talent and harmony with nature, of shared wealth and emancipation from all prejudices-all this is paradise on earth (minus religion). it should be pointed out that, within the system, the entire practical human experience related to literacy-and the accomplishments listed above are literacy- based-was subsidized. in no other part of the world, and under no other regime, were so many people subjected to literacy. that the system failed should not lead anyone to ignore some of the achievements of the people regimented under a flag they did not care for: fascinating art, interesting poetry and music, the massive collection and preservation of folklore, spectacular mathematics, physics, and chemistry arose from beneath terror and censorship. to survive as an artist, writer, or scientist meant to force creativity where almost no room for it was left. under no other regime on earth did people read so much, listen to music more intensely, visit museums with more passion, and care for each other as family, friends, or as human beings, episodes of brutality notwithstanding. it is too simplistic to accept the line that people read more in east europe and the soviet union because they had nothing else to do. the pragmatic framework was set up under the assumption of permanence, stability, centrality, and universality founded on literacy. it goes without saying that the misuse of language (in political discourse and in social life) played its role in the quasi-unanimous silent rejection of the system, even more in silent, cowardly complicity with it. when the literate machine of spying on the individual fell apart, people saw themselves in the merciless mirror of opportunistic self- betrayal. the records will stand as a testimony that writing does not lead only to solzhenitsyn's novels, yevtushenko's poetry, shoshtakovich's music, and the romantic samizdat, but also to putrid words about others, kin included. the opaqueness of literacy partially explains why this is possible. something other than the opaqueness granted by literacy (i.e., complicity established in society) explains how it became a necessary aspect of that society. germans were not better, exceptions granted, than their fascist leaders; the peoples in the soviet block were not better, exceptions granted again, than the leaders they accepted for such a long time. but what went relatively unnoticed by experts in east european and soviet studies, as well as by governments fighting the cold war, is the dynamics of change. the system was economically broke, but still militarily viable (though overrated) and over-engaged in security activities-tight control of the population, economic and political espionage, active attempts to export its ideology. the structure within which people were to realize their potential-one of the ideals of communism-had few incentives. but all this, despite the impact of the yet unfinished revolution, is only the tip of the iceberg, the visible side when one looks from the riverbank of the free world where incentives lead to self-sufficiency and complacency. the major aspect is that the dynamics of the system was severely affected by artificially maintaining a pragmatic framework and a system of values not suited to change. this applies especially to the major shift-from the industrial model to post-industrial society, to a context of practical experiences of human self-constitution freed from the restrictions carried over from the politics of mind and body control-experienced by the rest of the western world. levels of expectation beyond the satisfaction of immediate needs (food, clothing, shelter), and of literacy-associated expectations (education, access to art and literature, travel), could not be satisfied unless and until levels of efficiency impossible to reach in the pragmatic context of industrial societies were made possible by a new pragmatics. despite the fact that more writers, more publishing houses, more libraries, as well as more artists, theaters, opera houses, symphonic orchestras, research institutes, and more museums than in the rest of the world were politically and economically supported in the eastern block (almost to the extent that the secret police was), activities related to literacy had only a short-term impact on the individuals subjected to or taking advantage of them. this was proven dramatically by the proliferation of commercially motivated newspapers and publications (pornography among them) following the breakdown of the power structure in various countries of the block, and followed by an even faster focus on entertainment television and obsession with consumption. the main events leading to the breakdown-each country had its own drama, once the major puppeteer was caught off-guard by events in the soviet union-took place with the nation staring at the tv screens, seduced by the dynamics of the live transmission for which literacy and prior literate use of the medium were never well equipped. the live drama of the hunt for ceausescu in romania, the climax of the fall of the berlin wall, the events in prague, sofia, and tirana continued the spirit of the polish tele-drama in the shipyards. it then took another turn, during the attempted coup in the soviet union, practically denying the literate media any role but that of late chroniclers. the initial lessons in democracy took place via videotape. various networks, from wtn (world-wide television news) to cnn, but primarily the backward technology of the fax machine, which absorbed essential literacy into a focused distribution of individual messages, provided the rest. as primitive as digital networks were, and still are in that part of the world, they played an important role. not political manifestos or sophisticated ideological documents were disseminated, but images, diagrams, and live sequences. in the meanwhile, entertainment took over almost all available bandwidth. what the rest of the world consumed in the last fifteen years (along with fashion, fast food chains, soft drinks, and consumer electronics) penetrated the lives of those whose revolt took place under the banner of the right to consume. here, as in the rest of the world, the spiritual and the political split for good. the spiritual gets alimony; the political becomes the executor of the trust. what failed the system was the lack of understanding of all the factors leading to new productive experiences: the framework for optimal interaction of people, circumstances of progressive mediation and further specialized human self-constitution, a practical context of networking and coordination based on individual freedom and constraints assumed by individuals as they define their expectations. parallel to the literate structure of a politics that failed is the experience of churches in the soviet block. in a show of defiance towards the political dictatorship, people attended church, itself a mainstay of literate praxis (independent of the book or books they adopt for their basic program). once religion was able to assert its literate characteristics through the imposition of constraints-so like those of the political system just overthrown- churches began to experience the low attendance that the rest of the world is already familiar with. no matter how much more quickly events take place in our age, it is probably still too early to understand all the implications of the major political event represented by the fall of the soviet empire. for instance, in a context of global economy, how can one correctly evaluate the emergence of new national states and forceful national movements when the post-national state and the trans-national world are already a reality? the question is political in nature. its focus is on identity. identity reflects all the relations through which people constituted themselves as part of a larger entity-tribe, city, region, nation-defined by biological and cultural characteristics, shared values, religion, a sense of common space and time, and a sense of future. a world of worlds "we have made italy, now we have to make italians," declared massimo d'azeglio during the first meeting of the italian parliament. a little over years old, the nation-state was the most tangible product of the political practical experience in the pragmatic context whose underlying structure is so well reflected in literacy. together with the nation-state, the modern notion of nationality was defined and became a major force of political life. as part of the political consciousness in the age of industrial production, national consciousness played a very precise role, ultimately expressed in all forms of nationalism. it unified all those whose similarities in biological characteristics, language, lore, and practical experiences were constituted in a framework of shared resources and political goals. germany came into existence through a unifying language (hoch deutsch) and was consolidated through its literacy. italy went through a similar process. in other instances, nations were born as a result of voluntary political acts: the united states, the nations declared independent after the fall of the soviet union, croatia, macedonia, some of the arab countries, and a number of african nation-states, once colonial powers could no longer afford to resist the force of change. as with everything pertaining to politics, national politics entails expectations corresponding to past phases (the basic passions that once made up tribal solidarity), to instances of human interaction well overhauled by the new realities of the integrated world. what, if any, explanation can one find in the dissolution of yugoslavia? against the background of conflict in bosnia-herzegovina, this question has divided many well intentioned intellectuals (not only in france) inclined to solve an absurd situation of genocide. intellectuals questioned what appeared to be irreducible religious contradictions between catholic and orthodox christians, or between christians and moslems. the old conflict between the pro-fascist croatian ustash and the serbian chetniks dedicated to the vain goal of a greater serbia was also on their minds. they also wondered what the chances of the new nation-states of estonia, lithuania, and latvia, and many of the autonomous regions and republics of the former soviet union were. how will the commonwealth of independent states function once goals and purposes of nation-states take over those assumed in a nebulously defined commonwealth? and how can one explain the enormous discrepancy between the attempt to constitute a broad european community (actually, the united markets of europe), while other parts of europe break into small nation-states? how much of the underlying tribalism, or provincialism, or religious adherence, or how much of the functions of literacy at work can be read in the political fervor of nationalistic activism of our day? one answer, no matter how encouraging, cannot address a full paragraph of questions. these questions suggest that the politics of nations is so multifaceted that understanding it requires not so much rehashing the past but focusing on the broad picture of its dynamics. between the old city-state, the early empire (roman, byzantine), the medieval world of local attachments (pertaining to shared space used mainly for agriculture, and under the firm grip of the papacy), and today's world of mass immigration and human displacement (for political, economic, religious, or psychological reasons), we find inserted the settled universe of nation-states and their respective literacies. in this universe, literacy and religion undergird the legal system. politics defines national identity, subsuming language, ethnicity, ways of working, culture, superstitions, prejudice, art, and science. within the nation-state's borders, citizens are subjected to a political practical experience of homogeneity, centralism, and uniformity, required by the efficiency expectations of the industrial revolution. the ideal of cosmopolis, the all- embracing empire of reason declared by the stoics, runs counter to the ideal of the nation-state, which celebrates national reason and willingness to compete with others. when the pragmatic circumstances leading to today's global economy started exercising their action, an all-embracing empire of a different nature resulted. the new statement says that christians, moslems, jews, buddhists, animists, even atheists, although bearing a national identity, are part of the global economy. not surprisingly, political action and economic integration each run its own course. commerce, with all its imbalances and unfairness, the almost uncontrollable financial dynamics, and migration of industries take more and more frequently what appears as the necessary path of globality. politics, even when it acknowledges globality, focuses on national definitions. to an outside observer, a nation's politics appears insignificant, powerless in comparison to economic forces, although it claims to control these forces through monetary policies, labor laws, and trade regulations. the trans-national world has its own impetus. it continues to evade political constraints, ascertaining its own life. it was described from the perspective of its financial and economic condition as the borderless world (the title of kenichi ohmae's book), within which nationality counts only marginally. this is yet another reason for the low interest in public life on the part of the wealthy in our days. when the new southern republics freed by the breakdown of the soviet union debate which form of writing they should adopt-arabic, cyrillic, or roman-and how to define their respective nations, they still look for national identifiers. turkmanis and uzbekistanis, latvians and estonians, ukrainians and georgians, hungarians and romanians, and enterprising poles comb their territories in search of business opportunities. the same takes place in many other countries, whose citizens are obsessed more with prosperity than with sovereignty, with access to financial means more than with self-determination, and with cooperative effort, even involving traditional enemies, more than with a constitutional foundation or universal protection of human rights. interestingly enough, while national identity is more and more superseded by people's a-nationality, many new countries, emerging as a result of the asserted right to self-determination, face as their first task not the future but the past: definition of their national identity. nevertheless, the civilization of illiteracy does not promise that italians can be made for all these new countries. rather, these nations will become, in not necessarily satisfying ways, a-nationals, citizens of the world economy. many of them will make up the new immigrant populations settled in ethnic neighborhoods where access to consumption will arouse a nostalgia for some remote homeland. no one can or should generalize. many prejudices still heat the furnaces of hatred and intolerance. enough citadels from the past pragmatic framework maintain hopes for expansion and cultivate a politics appropriate to ages long passed. but regardless of such unsettling developments, the nation-state enters an age of denationalization, absorbed into a world of economic globality, less and less dependent on the individual and thus less and less subject to political dogma. of tribal chiefs, kings, and presidents changes in the condition of human practical experiences effect changes in the self-identification of the individual and of groups of people. emphasis is less and less on nature and shared living space, and more on connections free of arbitrary borders, even of elements pertaining to culture and history. new political experiences, still subjected to expectations carried over from the past, do not actually continue the past. accordingly, the nature of political experiences changes. assumptions regarding leadership, organization, planning, and legality are redefined. tribal chiefs might well have turned, through the centuries, into the kings of the middle ages, and, with the advent of a new society, into presidents. there is, nevertheless, no reason to believe that in a universe of distributed tasks and massive parallelism, a need for political centralism and hierarchy will remain. the president, for instance, is the king of the civilization of literacy; and his wife becomes the queen, in defiance of all the literate documents that justify presidency. executive power, in conjunction with the legislative and judicial branches, implements ideals of liberal political democracy as these became essential to the pragmatics of industrial society. but once new circumstances emerge, the underlying structure reflected in the power structure undergoes change as well. in the spirit of the dynamics of change, one should notice that, in a framework of non-hierarchic structures, there is no legitimate need for the presidency. theoretic arguments, no matter how rigorous, are after all irrelevant if not based on related facts. new circumstances already made the function of president strictly ceremonial in many countries. in other countries, a president's ability to exercise power is impeded by laws that make this power irrelevant. economic cycles, affecting integrated economies, turn even the most visionary heads of states (when they happen to be visionary) into witnesses to events beyond their control. politics does not happen at levels so remote from the individual that individuals disconnect themselves from the political ceremonial. it happens closer and closer to where ideals and interest crystallize in the form of new human interactions. who would represent the country if the function of head of state were abolished? how can a country have a consistent political system? who would be responsible for implementing laws? such questions originate, without exception, within literacy's system of expectations. the extreme decentralization that is made possible by the new means of the civilization of illiteracy requires, and indeed stimulates, different political structures. instead of the self-delusion and demagoguery triggered by an idealized image of the politically concerned citizen, we should see the reality of citizens pursuing goals that integrate political elements. literacy resulted in a politics of representation that ended up in effectively excluding the citizen from political decision-making. rationalized in the structures of democracy, political ideals are now a matter of efficient human interaction. a president's performance is totally irrelevant to the exchange of information on networks of human cooperative effort. agreements relevant to the people involved, executed in view of reciprocal needs and future developments, result more and more outside political institutions, for reasons having little to do with them. the majority of political functions, as they apply to presidents, congresses, or other political institutions, still originate in forms characteristic of past political experiences. they are based on allegiances and commitments contradicted by the pragmatics of today's world. the fact that heads of states are also heads of the military (commander-in-chief) comes from the time when the strongest man became the leader. but in the modern world of growing emancipation, women are valid candidates as heads-of-state all over the world. however, sexual bias has kept women from gaining the military competence that a commander-in-chief is expected to have. another example: what is the reason for a president to be at the funeral of a deceased head-of- state? blood ties used to bond kings and nobility more strongly than political arguments, long before fast transportation could carry a monarch to the deceased in less time than it took for decay to set in. a farewell wished today at the funeral of a japanese emperor, a moslem ruler, or an atheistic president belongs to the spectacle of politics, not to its substance. the expensive, and delusive, literate performance of state funerals, oath-taking, inauguration, parades, and state visits is more often than not an exercise in hypocrisy. these spectacles please only through their cynical pandering to the people's desire for circus. pragmatically relevant commitments are no longer the privilege of state bureaucracies. when the historic necessity of states winds up to be no more than the expression of remote tribal instincts, the literate institution of state becomes superfluous. political idolatry, commercial nationalism, and ethnic vanity affect politics at many levels. nationalism, emerging as a form of collective pride and psychological compensation for repressed instincts, celebrates gold medals at olympic games, the number of nobel prize laureates, and achievements in the arts and sciences with a fervor worth a better cause. borders of pride and prejudice are maintained even where they have de facto ceased to exist. no scientist who achieved results in his or her field worked in isolation from colleagues living all over the world. the internet supports the integration of creative effort and ideas, beyond borders and beyond national fixations, often expressed as military priorities rather than as cooperation and integration. art is internationally nurtured and exchanged. rhetoric and politics political programs, very much like hamburgers, cars, alcohol, sports events, artworks, and financial services, are marketed. success in politics is valued in market terms rather than in the increasingly elusive political impact. the expression "people vote their pocketbooks" bluntly expresses this fact. but are they voting? poll after poll reveals that they are not. illiterates used to be excluded from voting, along with women, blacks in america and south africa, and foreigners in a large number of european countries. in an ideal world, the best qualified would compete for a political position, all would vote, and the result would make everyone happy. how would such an ideal world function? words would correspond to facts. the reward of political practical experience would be the experience itself, satisfying the need to best serve others, and thus oneself as a member of the larger social family. this is a utopian world of perfect citizens whose reason, expressed in the language of literacy, i.e., made available to everyone and implicitly guaranteed to be a permanent medium for interaction, is the guardian of politics. we see here how authority, of the thinking human being, is established and almost automatically equated with freedom. indeed, the doctrine of individual conformity to rational necessity was expressed in many pragmatic contexts, but never as forcefully as in the context that appropriated literacy as one of its guiding forces. in the horizon of literacy, the expectation is that the experience of self- constitution as literate makes people submit their own nature to the rationale of literacy and thereby find fulfillment. in short, the belief that to be literate makes one respect his word, respect others, understand political expectations, and articulate one's ideas is more of an illusion. moreover, if political action could result in having everyone accept the values of literacy and embody them as their second nature, conflicts would vanish, people would all share in wealth and, moreover, would be able to abide by the standards of democracy. it even follows that the literate need to feel the obligation of inculcating literacy in others, thus creating the possibility of changing patterns of human experiences so that they reflect the demands of reason associated with literacy. isaiah berlin, among others, noted that the belief in a single encompassing answer to all social questions is indefensible. rather, conflict is an overriding feature of the human condition. this conflict develops between the propensity to diversity (all the ends pursued) and the almost irrational expectation that there is one answer-a good way of life-worth pursuing and which can be attained if the political animal acknowledges the primacy of reason over passion, and freely chooses conformity to widely shared values over chaotic individualism. under the pragmatic circumstances of the civilization of illiteracy, the literate expectation of unanimous or even majority vote is less than significant. voting results are as good an indicator of a society's condition as seismographs are of the danger of an earthquake. on election days, the results are known after the first representative sample makes it through the voting mechanism. actually, the results are already at hand days before the election takes place. the means within our reach are such that it would suffice to commit a short interval of telephone time so that people who want to vote-and who know why they vote- can, and without having to go our of their way. any other connection, such as the generalized cable infrastructure, connected to a central data processing unit outfitted for the event, would do as well. such a strategy would answer only one part of the question: making it easy for people to vote. the second part regards what they are asked to vote for. the political process is removed from the exciting practice of offering authentic choice. literacy-based political action is opaque, almost inscrutable. accordingly, the citizen has no motivation for commitment and no need to express it through voting. there is a third part: the assumption that voting is a form of particpating in the power of democracy. no one aware of the dynamics of work and life today can equate the notion of majority with democracy. more often than not, efficiency is achieved through procedures of exception. under the circumstances of a global economy of fast change and parallel practical experiences, no president of a country, no matter how powerful, and no central political power can effectively influence events significant to the citizen. the civilization of illiteracy requires alternatives to centralism, hierarchy, sequentiality, and determinism in politics. it especially entails alternatives to dualism, whether embodied in the two- party system, the legislative and executive opposition, and lawfulness vs. illegality, for example. this implies a broad distribution of political tasks, in conjunction with a politics that takes advantage of parallel modes of activism, networking, open-ended policies, and self-determination at meaningful levels of political life. political fear of vagueness can only be compared to the fear of a vacuum that once upon a time branded physics and political doctrines. faster rhythms of existence and the acknowledged need to adapt to circumstances of action never before experienced-scale of politics, globality, scale of humankind-speak against many of the literate expectations of politics as a stabilizing form of human practice. politics, if true to its call, should contribute to speeding up processes and creating circumstances for better negotiations among people who have lost their sense of political adherence, or even lost their faith in law and order. in this global world, where scale is of major importance, politics is supposed to mediate among the many levels at which people involved in parallel, extremely distributed activities, partake in globality. apportionment of goods, as much as the apportionment of rights pertaining to creative aspects of human practical experiences, on a scheme similar to auctioning, follow the dynamics of the market more closely than rigid regulations. awareness of this apportionment is a political matter and can be submitted to the concerned parties in forms of evolving opinions. politics has also to address the new forms of property and their impact on political values in the new pragmatic framework. for instance, the real power of information processing is in the interaction of those able to access it. one should not be forced to apply rules originating from the feudal ownership of language, or from the industrial ownership of machines, to the free access to information, or to networks facilitating creative cooperative efforts. the challenge is to provide the most transparent environment, without affecting the integrity of interaction. a specific example in this regard is legislation against computer hackers. such legislation, as well as the much publicized communication decency act, only shifts attention from the new pragmatic context-unprecedented challenges arising from very powerful technologies-to one of routine law enforcement. administrative reaction is the consequence of the built-in dualism, based on the clear-cut distinction between good and bad, characteristic of literacy-based politics. a positive course of events can originate only from political experiences of individual empowerment. wider choice and broader possibilities involve specific risks. hacking is by no means an experience without precedent in past pragmatics. the german war code was hacked, and nations are very eager to confer honor upon other hackers of distinction: scientists who break the secrets of genetic codes, or spies who discover the secrets of the enemy. examined from a literate political perspective, hacking, as a peculiar form of individual self-constitution, can appear as criminal. in a political experience coherent with the pragmatics leading to the civilization of illiteracy, hacking appears on a continuum joining creativity, protest, invention, and non- conformity, as well as criminal intention. the answer to hackers is not a code of punishment of medieval or industrial inspiration, but transparency that will, in the long run, undermine possible criminal motivations. a society that punishes creativity, even when relatively misdirected, through its policies and laws punishes itself in the long run. someone who works at his terminal for a company producing goods all over the world, and pursuing social and economic programs that effectively touch citizens of many cultures, different faiths, race, political creed, sexual preference, different history and different expectations, participates in the politics of the world more than the institutions and the bureaucrats paid for functions that they cannot effectively fulfill. it is again pragmatics that makes us citizens of our small village or town, that integrates all of us, netizens included, in the global world. judging justice this short parenthesis in the discussion of politics can be justified by the fact that justice is the object of both politics and law. the practice of law is the practice of politics on a smaller stage. political action, involving a new concept of law and justice, closer to the environment of industrial work, established not only that all (or almost all) were equal in respect to the law, but also that justice would take its own course. in the course of history, the various moments of change in the pragmatic framework were also moments of change in regard to the justice system. in incipient political praxis, rulers administered the law. even today, a governor or president is the court of last resort in some legal cases. and law, like politics, relies on rhetoric, on language as the mediating mechanism of concepts. in the course of history, the various moments of change in the pragmatic framework were also moments of change in regard to what today we call justice. the more powerful applied their own ideas of law under circumstances of incipient human practical experiences. it was the role of the appointed leader, whether in the magic of ritual, in tribes, in religion, in forms of settlement, to judge matters under dispute. law focused on agreements, commitments, and integrity of the human body, of property, of goods, and of exchange. in time, the distance between what was done, affecting the balance of people's rights and obligation, and the reaction to it increased. a whole body of mediating elements, religion included, governed action and reaction. just as myth and ritual did in their ways, major religious texts testify to how rules of living together and preserving life were established and implemented. the scale of society, reflected in the nature of the pragmatic context, played a crucial role in the process in respect to what was considered a crime, the type of punishment, and the swiftness of punishment. what is of concern here is the change from the legal code elaborated in the framework of literacy and legal experience in the civilization of illiteracy. the institution of law and the professions involved in it embody expectations of justice under assumptions of efficiency pertinent to human practical experiences. new lands were discovered, new property was created, and machines and people made higher productivity possible. rights were fought for, access to education opened, and the world became a place of new transactions for which the law of the land, inspired by natural right, no longer sufficed. it was in this context that literacy stimulated both the practice of legality and the inquiry into the nature of human rights and obligations. but it is also in this context that the language of legal practical experiences commenced its journey into today's legalese that no ordinary person can understand. raskolnikov, in dostoyevsky's crime and punishment, criticized the "legal style" of those educated as lawyers. "they still write legal papers that way." though he remarks that the writing had "a kind of flourish to it..., yet look how illiterate his writing is." the criticism could be glossed over, due to its context, if it were not for an interesting remark: "it's expressed in legal language and if you use legal language, you can't write any other way." trying to cope with ambiguity in language forces the lawyer to look for precision. the equivocal condition of the practice of justice is that law originates in the realm of political experiences, but needs to be implemented free of politics, i.e., regardless of who is in power. the blindfolded goddess holding the scales of justice is expected to be objective and fair. the separation between judicial and governing entities is probably the highest achievement of the political system based on literacy. but it is also the area where, under circumstances of practical experiences different from those based on the underlying structure of literacy, the need to change is critical. this applies to new means of maintaining a just system for people less affected by the subjectivity of those holding the balance of power, and more by the ability to process information relevant to any object of dispute. the blindfolded goddess already uses x- ray vision in order to substantiate claims and counterclaims. modeling, simulation, expert genetic testimony, and much more became part of the justice routine. each party in a trial knows in advance what type of jury best serves its interests. the context for all these changes sheds light on their political meaning. if the practical experience of politics and justice are disconnected, the effectiveness of both suffers. politics stimulated change in respect to the perception of democracy, civil rights, political authority, and welfare. it demystified the origin, function, and role of property, and introduced a generalized level of relativity and uniform value. law, on the other hand, supposed to protect the individual, should therefore be less inclined to trade off fairness for the lowest common denominator. comparing this ideal to real legal practice is an exercise in masochism. the ever increasing, and fast increasing, human interaction via market mechanisms was followed by instances of conflict and expectations of negotiation. without any doubt, the most pervasive mediating role is played in our day by legal professionals. due to its own self-interested dynamics, the legal profession insinuates itself in every type of practical experience, from multinational business to relations between individuals. lately, it is involved in finding a place for itself in the world of new media, involving copyright laws and private rights versus public access. so one cannot say that law, as opposed to politics, is not proactive. the problem is that it is so in a context bound to literacy, and in such a way that style transcends substance. latin, reflecting the origin of the western legal experience, used to be the language of law. today, few lawyers know latin. but they are well versed in their own language. legalese is justified by the attempt to avoid ambiguity in a given situation. there is nothing wrong with this. what is wrong is when legal language and the procedures encoded in legal language do not meet the pragmatic expectation, which is justice. law and justice are not the same thing. a good case in point is the recent case of the state of california vs. o. j. simpson. the spectacle of the legal procedure showed how a literate practice ended up convoluting justice. in fact, literate law is not meant to serve justice. its purpose is to use the law to acquit a client. allan derschowitz claimed that the lawyer's duty is to his or her client, not to justice. this statement is far from the expectation that each member of society has. therefore law loses its credibility because it undermines the notion of the social contract. some might say that this state of affairs is nothing new. even shakespeare criticized lawyers. far from being a wholesale attack on the profession, the description i have given deserves to be contrasted to the possibility of effective judicial mediations in the civilization of illiteracy. since changes occur so rapidly, the law of yesterday rarely applies to new circumstances created today. it used to be, people often find themselves reminiscing, that laws and rules (the ten commandments, at least) were expected to last and be respected, in their letter-which was carved in stone-and spirit, forever. no one will argue that justice is not an eternal desideratum. but achieving it does not necessarily mean that laws and the methods of lawyers are eternal. some actions that society once accepted-child abuse, sexual harassment, racial discrimination-are now considered illegal, as well as unjust. other crimes (whistling on sundays, kissing one's spouse in public, working or operating a business on sunday) might still be in some legal books and locally observed, but they are no longer considered instances of law- breaking. the result of changes brought about by changing pragmatics is the realization people have that there is no stable frame of reference, either for morality (as it is subject to law and law enforcement) or for legality. did lawyers create this situation? are they a product of new human relations required by the new pragmatics? who judges the legal system in order to determine that its activity meets expectations? there is no simple answer to any of these questions. if justice is to affect human practical experiences, it has to reflect their nature and participate in defining its own perspective in respect to the rights that people integrate in new practical experiences of self-definition. it is all well and good for the legal system to use non-literate means, such as dna evidence, videotapes, and access to legal information from around the world via internet. but if they are then subjected to literate pettifogging, all this effort is to no avail. the programmed parliament politics in action means not elections but the daily routine of hard work on matters of interest to the people represented. party affiliation aside, in the end the common good is supposed to be maintained or improved. legislative political work continues a tradition that goes well beyond literacy. nevertheless, effective legislation became possible only within the pragmatic framework that made literacy necessary. once literacy itself reached its potential, new means for the political legislative practical experience became necessary. the driving force is the expectation that the legislative process should reflect practical needs emerging in a context of rapid change over shorter patterns of recurrence. as within the entire political practical experience, forces at work continuously collide. although literacy-based perspectives and methods for political legislation are no longer appropriate in handling issues and concerns stemming from a pragmatics that invalidates the literate model, politicians seem to be unwilling to realize the need for change. they find it more useful, and easier to defend, to legislate improved literacy- based education, for example, instead of rethinking education in the context of its necessity. they accept the mediating power of specialized knowledge, the generalized network of information, use all means for disseminating their own programs, but work within constraints originating in the literate practice of politics. it is hard to believe that in an age of limitless communication, speakers, mainly in the usa, arguing for the most intricate programs, will perform before an empty room in congress. it is also hard to believe that a language rooted in experiences established a long time ago, and many times proved ineffective, is maintained. procedures, testifying more to the past than the present, govern the activity of many legislative bodies (not only in great britain, where this legacy translates into a dress code as outmoded as the british monarchy). as with the executive political experience and the infatuation of justice, symbolism overtakes substance. nevertheless, under the pressure for higher efficiency, major changes are taking place. legislative practical experiences, as disconnected as they are from new human practical experiences, are less and less an exercise in convincing writing or in formal logic. they increasingly reflect the expectations of globality and often apply mediation, task distribution, and interactivity. electronic modeling is applied, simulation methods are tried out. the new methods of accessing information free the legislative politician from the time-consuming task of accumulating data. consultants and staff members make use of powerful knowledge filters in order to involve in the political process only information pertinent to the subject. politicians know that knowledge, at the right time and in the right context, is power. their new experience, as members of computerized parliaments of many countries can testify, is that everyone has the data, but only few know how to process it effectively. in fact, political parties develop competitive processing programs that will give politicians pursuing their goals more convincing arguments in a public debate, or in discussions leading to legislative vote. the transparency brought about by means in the civilization of illiteracy ensures public access to the debate. the competitive edge is provided by the intelligent use of data. power, that elusive aspect of any political activity, comes from the ability to process, not from the amount of information stored. all this, kept at a minimum in this presentation, might sound like anticipation, or dreams for the politician of the future. it is not. the process is probably still at the beginning, but unavoidable. it will sooner or later affect such components as time in office-permanence of a representative reflects literacy-based expectations- procedures for public evaluation, candidacy, and voting. it will also require a rethinking of the relation between politicians and constituents. rethinking the motivations and methods of legislation, even its legitimacy, are goals worthy of being pursued. increased mediation affects the connection between facts and political action. unless balanced by the use of the new means of communication that allow personal interaction with each voter, it will continue to alienate politics from the public. mass-media politics is already a thing of the past-not because television is overridden by the internet, but because of the need to create a framework for individual motivation for political action. political efficiency is based on human interaction. what counts is not the medium, as this will continue to change, but what is accomplished through the medium. to create a legislative framework that reflects the new nature of human relations and is appropriate to the pragmatic context means to understand the nature of the processes leading to the civilization of illiteracy. consolidation of bureaucracy is as counter-indicative of this understanding as is the continuation of the monarchy and the house of lords in great britain. both these phenomena are as convincing as the mass generation of electoral letters that report on how the political representative best served his or her constituency. a sense of the process, as it involves the need to overcome models based on sequentiality, dualism, and deterministic reaction, can be realized only when the political process itself is synchronized with the prevalent pragmatics. a battle to be won as a practice of building, changing, and destroying coalitions, politics today is a summation of human practice. professional politicians design strategies for coalition implementation and identify the most effective interactions for a certain policy. they develop their own language and criteria for evaluating the efficiency of their specialized practice and of their mediating function in a society of many and varied forms of mediation. the obsession with efficiency, whether applied to politics or not, is not imposed by forces outside ourselves. the tendency to transfer responsibility does not result in some curse spoken by a disappointed politician, philosopher, or educator. the shorter political cycles that we encounter correspond to the dynamics of a human practical experience focused on the immediate within the framework of a global existence. it seems that the transition is from the small communal life striving for continuity and permanence, to a global community of interacting individuals, whose identity itself is variable, prepared to experience discontinuity and change. coordinations of actions in this universe are no longer possible through large integrative mechanisms, such as language and bureaucratic institutions. small differentiating operations, in the nature of coalitions tested through polling or electronic balloting, and modified in accordance with the rapid change of political roles, represent an alternative. monarchies embodied the eternity of rule; treaties among monarchs were supposed to outlast the monarch. the -minute access to political power, far from being a metaphor in some parts of the world, is as relevant as any other form of celebrity (warhol's included), since political processes and power relations are more and more uncoupled from each other and disconnected from the obsession with universality and timelessness. a -minute coalition is as critical as access to power, and as useful as the new principles accepted by the people involved. instead of the top- down model of politics, we can experience a combination of bottom-up and top-down procedures. under these circumstances, the making and unmaking of coalitions remains one among very few valid political functions. the centers of political power- economics, law, interest groups-constitute poles around which such coalitions are established or abandoned. one should ask whether such coalitions do not come into being in the universal language of literacy. literacy is defended with the argument that it is some kind of common denominator. what is not accounted for is the fact that coalitions are not independent of the medium of their expression. literacy-based coalitions pursue and further goals and actions consistent with the pragmatic framework that requires them. needs characteristic of a pragmatic context incompatible with the structures imposed by literacy-based practical experiences require other means for establishing coalitions. when the leaders of the most advanced industrial states agree on indexing the value of their currency, or when friend and foe establish a political coalition against an invasion that could set a precedent and trigger consequences for the global economy, the means in place might take the appearance of literacy. in fact, these means are freed from words and literate articulations. they emerge from data processing and simulation of behavior in financial markets, virtual reality scenarios turned into actions for which no script could provide a description in advance. while politicians might still perform their script in a literate manner, the centers of power choose the most efficient means for evaluating each new coalition. as a consequence, and this is a distinguishing element, there is little connection between the authority of political institutions, as it results from their literate premise, and the dynamics of coalitions, reflecting the pragmatics of the civilization of illiteracy. the sense of beginning experienced in our day goes well beyond the new states, new political means, beyond the science (or art) of coalition making. it is basically a beginning for the new zoon politikon, for a political animal that has lost most of its natural roots and whose human nature is probably better defined in terms of political instincts than cultural accomplishments. culture is by and large discarded. people simply cannot carry culture with them, but neither can they negotiate their existence without political means appropriate to a social condition structurally different from that experienced in the past. the self-centered individual cannot escape relating to others and defining himself in reference to them. "we am a virtual community" is not merely a suggestive title (conceived by earl babble) for an article on internet interaction, but a good description of today's political world. the specific forms of relations, the we am faction among them, are subject to many factors, not least to the biological and cognitive redefinition of the human being. when everything, literally everything, is possible and indeed acceptable, the political animal has to find new ways to make choices and pursue goals without facing the risk of losing identity. this is probably the decisive political battle that the humans have yet to win. "theirs not to reason why" high precision electronic eyes placed on orbiting satellites picked up the firing of the rocket and the launch parameters. data was transmitted to a computer center for information processing. the computed information, specifying angles, firing time, and trajectory, was relayed to antirocket missiles programmed to intercept enemy attack. the system-consisting of a vast, distributed, highly interconnected configuration- incorporates expertise from electronic vision devices, knowledge encoded in software designed to calculate rocket orbits (based on launch time, position, angle, speed, weight, meteorological conditions), fast transmission networks, and automated positioning and triggering devices. this integrated system has replaced literacy-based modes of practical experiences pertinent to war. instead of manuals describing the many parameters and operations that military personnel need to consider, information is contained in computer programs. these also eliminate the need for long training cycles, expensive practical exercises, and the continuous revision of manuals containing the latest information. distributed knowledge and interconnectedness have replaced the structure of top-down command. the system described above contains many mediating components that allow for highly efficient wars. examples similar to the relative annihilation of the infamous (and ineffective) scud missiles can be given from other episodes of the gulf war, including the hours of the so-called ground battle. this battle displayed the deadly force of artillery and tanks, the power of modeling and simulation, and major planning and testing methods independent of literacy-based military strategy and tactics. the enemy consisted of an army structured on the principles derived from the pragmatic framework of literacy: centralized line of command, rigid hierarchy, modern military equipment integrated in a war plan that was essentially sequential and deterministic, and based on a logic of long-term encounters. the first war of the civilization of illiteracy an earlier draft of this chapter-introductory lines excepted-was written when no one anticipated a conflict involving american troops in the arabian gulf. during this war, theoretic arguments regarding the institution of the military in the civilization of illiteracy were tested in the flesh and blood of confrontation, probably well beyond my, or anybody's, expectations or wishes. the gulf war reported by the media resembled a computer game or a television show. as i watched, i felt as though someone had lifted part of my text and sent it through the news wires. the story made for great headlines; but out of context, or in the context of a reality reduced to the tv screen, its overall meaning was obscured. in many ways, the armed conflict ended up trivialized, another soap opera or spectator sport. other reports related the frustration of the troops with the limited number of phone lines. the reports also commented on the replacement of the traditional letter by videotape as the preferred method of communication. we also heard about an almost magical device, called cnx, used to help orient each person involved in the vast desert theater of war. and we saw or heard about the exotically named preprocessed and prepackaged food, about the pastimes of the troops. the context started coming into focus. this was to become the first war of the civilization of illiteracy: a highly efficient (the word takes on an unintended cynical connotation here) activity that involved non-sequential, massively parallel practical experiences. these required precise synchronization (each failure resulted in victims to what was euphemistically called "friendly fire"), distributed decision-making, intense mediation, advanced specialization, and task distribution. these characteristics embodied an ideology of relative value disengaged from political discourse, and even more from moral precepts. nobody expected this war to reinvent the bow and arrow (documented shortly after human self-constitutive experiences in language), or even the wheel (originating in the practical experience of populations whose home was the territory where the fighting took place). it is possible that some of the military personnel had heard about the book entitled the art of war (written by sun tzu in bce or earlier), or about the books, some of undisputed notoriety, filling the libraries of military academies and the better research libraries. but this was not a war fought for the book, in the spirit of the book (koran or bible), or in the way books describe wars. in a way, the gulf war was truly the "mother of all battles" in that it rewrote the rules on war-or did away with them. all the characteristics of the civilization of illiteracy are retraceable in the practical experience of today's military: highly mediated praxis through electronic information storage and retrieval; transition from an economy of wartime scarcity to a war of affluent means of defense and destruction; shift from war based on the positivist notion of facts (many requiring incursions into enemy territory) to a relativistic notion of image, and the corresponding technology of image processing; shift from a hierarchical structure of rigid lines of authority and command to a relatively loose line of context dependent on freedom of choice extended almost to the individual soldier; a discipline of austerity and isolation from the non-military (conditions accepted in the past as part of a military career) replaced by expectations of relaxation and enjoyment, derived from the permissiveness and drive for self-satisfaction of society at large. that some of these expectations could not be fulfilled was criticized, but not really understood. the hosts of the american army live by different standards. muslim law prohibits alcohol consumption and certain forms of entertainment, as well as burial of dead infidels in a land claiming to be holy. the gulf war, on its various fronts, was not a conflict of irreducible or irreconcilable religions, morals, or cultures. it was a conflict between an artificially maintained civilization of literacy, in which rich reserves of oil serve as a buffer from efficiency requirements in all aspects of life, and another civilization, one that entails the illiteracy of a society and an energy-hungry, global economy that reflects a dynamics of high efficiency. it might well be that the final attack reminded experts in war history, military strategy, or evolution of tactics of the surprising maneuver tried by epaminondas, the theban commander ( bce) in the battle of leuctra: instead of a frontal assault, an attack on one flank. general schwartzkopf is not epaminondas. he succeeded in his mission by allowing for task distribution in an international army-more of a pain than a blessing-that resulted in many flanks. helmuth von moltke, in the exhausting franco- prussian war ( - ), changed the relation to his subordinate commanders by letting them operate under broad directives. the generals and commanders of the many armies involved in the gulf war took advantage of the power of networking in order to orchestrate an attack that tested extremely efficient, and costly, annihilation technology under a plan that today's computers have simulated many a time over. but once i confessed that i wrote much of this chapter three years before the gulf war, the reader might question whether i looked at the war through the spectacles of my hypothesis, seeing what i wanted to see, understanding events as they fit my explanatory model. i asked myself the same questions and concluded that presenting the argument as it stood before the war would shed light on the question and ultimately qualify the answer. war as practical experience "war is a sheer continuation of politics with other means," wrote carl von clausewitz (on war, ). it is difficult to argue against this; but a paraphrase, intended to put the line in historic perspective, might be appropriate: war is the continuation of the practical experience of survival in the context of a society trying to control and adjudicate resources. accordingly, combat follows the line of other practical experiences. the practical experience of hunting-formerly combat with non-human adversaries-required the weapons eventually associated with war. these were the tools that primitive humans used to wrest food for their survival and the survival of their community. future aspects of these activities, and the associated moral values, make us sometimes forget that the syncretic nature of human beings, i.e., projection of their natural endowment in the practical act, is expressed in the syncretism of the tools used. this syncretic condition evolved under the need for labor division, and one of the main early demands of labor division resulted in the establishment of the semi-professional and professional warrior. as the tools of the martial profession diversified more and more from working tools, a conceptual component (tactics and strategy) became part of the praxis. the conceptual component set forth a sequence to be followed, a logic to be used, and a method for counteracting enemy maneuvers in order to achieve victory. von clausewitz was the first to explicitly point out that war continues politics, while other writers on the subject, living centuries before he did, perceived war as a practical effort. two byzantine emperors, maurice ( - ) and leo, called the wise ( - ), tried to formulate military strategy and tactics based on the pragmatic premise. they stipulated that the pragmatic framework defined the nature of the conflict and the actual condition of the battle, weapons included. indeed, every known change in military materiel in a society has been synchronized to changes in the status of its practical experience. the invention of the stirrup by the chinese ( ) improved the ability of men riding horseback. it opened the avenue to wars where the backbone of battle formation was no longer composed of foot soldiers but of warriors on horses. mechanical contraptions (e.g., the trebuchet, acknowledged at , based on releasing a heavy counterweight) for throwing large stones or missiles, opened the way to what would shift superior defensive capabilities (through fortifications, city walls, castles built before the th century) to superior offensive power. this was also the case with the cannons that the turks used to conquer constantinople ( ). but it is not military practice per se that concerns us here, but rather the implications of language, in particular literacy. at a very small scale of human activity, with many autarchic groups composed of few people, there was little need for organized combat or specially trained warriors. incipient, rudimentary military practical experience, in its basic functions of aggression and defense, became desirable at a larger scale of human activity. this experience was simultaneous with the establishment of language, especially writing. sun tzu's book, as well as many earlier testimonies to battles (mythology, religious writings, epic poetry, and philosophy), can be mentioned here. this military practice integrated the means and skills of survival, such as hunting and safeguarding the territory from which food was obtained. awareness of resources corresponded to awareness of scale. the scale of human activity in which the constitution of community member-warrior took place corresponded to increased settlement of populations, increased demand for resources, higher productivity, and accumulation of property-all reflected in the need to expand the practical experience of language beyond the immediate characteristic of orality. the efficiency of work and combat was at about an equal level. in a sense, wars lasted forever; peace was merely respite between conflicts. the notion of prisoner (usually sold into slavery) confirmed the importance of human labor and skill for consolidating a community, producing wealth for those in power, and subsistence for everyone else. the social constitution of the military was not excepted from pragmatic requirements of efficiency and mediation, i.e., of ensuring the highest efficiency within the given scale of human experience, as needs and expectations corresponding to this scale were manifested. while it is true that combat efficiency was spelled out in units of intentional destruction or preservation (of life and various artifacts relevant to human self- constitution), combat efficiency also referred to defenders whose goal was to make destruction by the enemy less possible (even impossible). while individual conflicts did not require the intervention of language more than orality could provide, conflicts between larger groups made the need for a coordinating instrument clear. human language, through new words and constructs, testified to the experience of conflicts and the associated mytho-magical manifestations. through language, this experience was projected against the background of many different forms of human praxis. as a general rule, armies of all types, under every type of government, acquired a special status in society due to the function they fulfilled. written language did not generate armies; but it served as a prerequisite (even in its most rudimentary notation forms) for the institution of the military. writing introduced many elements that influenced the combat experience: a record of means and people, a record of actions, an instrument for planning, a record of consequences. all the components of the military institution objectify the purpose of war at a particular time. they also objectify the relations between a society at war and, during times of peace, between society and its warriors. language is the medium through which objectification takes place. the sequentiality of writing and the need to express sequences pertinent to conflicts are consubstantial. von clausewitz's line encompasses the extension in language of the many aspects of wars. "did gideon know how to read hebrew? did deborah?" some people might ask, referring to leaders of decisive battles documented in the old testament. others would refer to examples from the same time that are accounted for in greek epics and the chronicles of the middle east. roman mythology and the testimony of islam do not tell us whether all their warriors wrote or read. these documents do inform us of the pragmatic circumstances that led to the institution of the army as a body constituted in continuation of syncretic practical experiences, progressively constituting its own domain of existence and its own reason for being. from face-to-face conflicts that required almost no language, and which resulted in the victory of the stronger, to the conflicts between humans in which much technology-requiring little language-was also involved, changes parallel to the levels of literacy occurred. under the circumstances of wars fought by armies facing each other, language was the medium for constituting armies and coordinating action. in order to define goals, to share plans for achieving victory, and to modify plans in response to changing conditions, language was as important as the number of horses, quality of swords and shields, and quality of ammunition. the profession of warrior, as much as the profession of hunter, was based on the ability to attack and defend, and on the skills needed to adapt means to goals within a changing balance of power. the first wars, and probably the majority of them, were fought before generalized literacy. the major warriors-the egyptian pharaohs tuthmose iii in the battle for meggido ( bce), ramses ii battling the hittites at kadesh ( bce), nebuchadnezzar and darius, the spartans under leonidas ( bce), alexander the great (conquering babylon in bce), julius caesar ( - bce) and octavian ( bce), and the many chinese warriors of this period and later-did not need literacy for their battles as much as for their politics. their strategies resulted from the same expectations and pragmatic requirements that gave rise to the experience of written language. wars were fought on terrain well chosen, by armies composed of men who carried out orders selected from a limited set of possibilities. to paraphrase the terminology of generative grammars, it was a limited war language, with not too many possible war sentences. once improved means of work and production became the means of carrying on war, those in command could write more war texts, more scripts. as war efficiency increased, so did the possibility of a breakdown of the effort due to lack of integration and coordination. the military structure reflected the characteristics of the human praxis that fostered written language and, much later, literacy: relatively limited dynamics, centralized, hierarchical organization, low level of adaptability, a strictly sequential course of action, a deterministic mentality. david oliver convincingly described the process: "mechanics is the vehicle of all physical theory. mechanics is the vehicle of war. the two have been inseparable." he refers to the practical demands of warfare in the context that led to the science of mechanics and eventually to the beginnings of projectile ballistics. by , nicolo tartaglia of brescia overcame his disdain for war and devised the gunner's square, which was perfected years later by none other than galileo. in , the french introduced the socket bayonet on their muskets, which occurred simultaneous to changes in tools used at the time, i.e., the tools that allowed for manufacturing the bayonet. the framework that created conditions for the ideal of literacy affected the pursuit of war not only in technology, but also in the way wars were played out. the advancing line of exposed troops were involved in a dynamics of confrontation that reflected linearity, a phenomenon prevalent in the practical experience of civilian life. destructive power was added until the enemy was destroyed. row by row, soldiers stopped to fire platoon volleys, then continued onto the decisive bayonet charge. the structure of writing (sequences, hierarchy, accumulation, closure) and the structure of this particular military engagement were similar. literacy as such was registered rather late as a qualifier of the warrior. but once integrated in the practical experience of military self-constitution, literacy changed the nature of making war and enabling higher levels of efficiency corresponding to the new scale of war. these were no longer skirmishes among feudal warlords, but major conflicts between nations. these conflicts diminished in number but grew in intensity. their duration corresponded to the relatively long cycles of production, distribution, and consumption characteristic of literacy-based practical experiences. under the pressure of many types of necessity embodied in human pragmatics, war was submitted to rules. it was civilized, at least in some of its aspects. the catholic church, preserver of literacy during the dark ages, when many little wars between feudal lords were carried on, took the lead in this direction. in order to avoid destruction of crops and lives in the barbarian societies of europe after the fall of the roman empire, the only viable hierarchy tried to tame warriors with the literate rules that the church preserved. with their own pragmatic considerations in mind, rulers accepted these prescriptions. it took a millennium for people to discover that wars never have final results. but they also learned that the experience of war creates knowledge-for example, of means used, weather patterns, territory, characteristics of the enemy-and creativity-what is called the art of war. resulting in death and destruction, wars are also instances of self-education in one of life's most unforgiving schools. the institution of the military "the draft is the legitimate child of democracy," as theodor heuss defined it. obligatory military service was introduced during one of the first modern revolutions- the french levée en masse (conscription) of . the citizen-soldier replaced mercenaries and professional soldiers. the call "aux armes, mes citoyens" that became a stanza of the french national anthem, glorified the expectations of the moment. prussia followed suit almost immediately, motivated by economic reasons: cheap manpower for war. during the prolonged process of becoming an institution, the military enlisted the support of the state it defended or of those private establishments (church, landowners, merchants) that needed its services. feeding off the means generated by society, the military institution integrated the practical experience of the people in its structure and actively pursued courses of action meant to increase its efficiency. at every juncture of humankind's continuous change, the military had to prove levels of efficiency that justified its own existence as a factor in the active defense of resources. when it was no longer efficient and weighed too heavily on the socio-economic foundation, it was eventually overthrown, or the society supporting it stagnated, as we see happening time and again in military dictatorships. as one of the many highly structured environments for human interaction, the military identified itself, as did all other social mechanisms, through repetitive actions. each action could be further seen as a set of tasks, or orders, connected to motivations or justifications, which anticipate or follow practical experiences specific to the military. some were connected to life within the organization, such as the possibility to advance in the hierarchy and affect future activity. these were internal in the sense that they were affected by the implicit rules adopted by the institution. others were external, expressed in the nature of the relation between the military and society: symbolic status, participation in power, expectations of recognition. evolution of the military resulted in changes in the language involved in defining and modifying the interactions characteristic of military practical experience. this language became progressively more adapted to the goal-win the war-and less coordinated with civilian language, in which the discourse of motivations leading to the conflict occurred. correspondingly, relations with the outside world-future members of the military, social and political institutions, cultural establishments, the church-took place in what appeared to be a different language. changes in the structure of the practical experience of human self-constitution, as well as changes resulting from a growing scale, had an influence both inside and outside the military. when the individuals making up the world constituted themselves as literate, the functioning of the military assumed the expectations and characteristics of literacy. what would emerge as military academies were probably established at this time. von moltke's ideas of changing the nature of relations with subordinates just predated the many modern advances in war technology: the use of steam-powered warships (by the japanese in their war against the russians in ); the introduction of radio, telephone, and automotive transportation (all tested in word war ); and even the articulation of the concept of total war (by erich lindendorf). all these correspond to a pragmatic framework within which literacy was necessary, and literacy's characteristic reflected upon new practical experiences. the total war is of the same nature as the expectation of universal literacy: one literacy replaces all others. there is to the military institution of the civilization of literacy an expectation of permanency, embodied in rules and regulations, in hierarchies, and centralized structure, similar to that of state, industry, religion, education, science, art, and literature. there is also an expectation of centralism, and thus hierarchy and discipline. these characteristics explain why almost all armies adopt similar literacy-based structures. guerrilla wars, in their early manifestations (skirmishes during the american revolution) and in their current forms in south america, for example, are illiterate in that they are not based on the conventions of literacy. they unfold in a decentralized manner, and are based on the dynamics of self-organizing nucleii. this is why military strategists consider them so dangerous today. patterns of military action and the language recurrences associated with these patterns express attitudes and values pertinent to the pragmatic framework. england, at the height of its literate experience, had a highly structured, almost ritualized way of carrying out war. one of the main complaints during the american revolution was that the colonials did not fight according to the rules that literate west europe had established over the centuries. under circumstances of change, as those leading to the end of the need for a generalized, all-encompassing literacy, these attitudes and values, expressed in language and in patterns of military activity, are exhausted, except where they are carried over to other forms of praxis, especially to politics and sports. as is the case with many literacy-based institutions, the military became a goal in itself, imposing rules on social and political circumstances, instead of adapting to them. following world wars i and ii, the military took control of many countries under the guise of various political and ideological justifications. military, or military-supported, dictatorships, displaying the same characteristics of centralized rule as monarchy and democracy under presidents, sprang up where other modes of government proved ineffective. this happens today in many parts of the world that are still dedicated to economic and political models of the past, such as in south america, the middle east, and africa, for example. from the literate to the illiterate war the last war fought under the sign of literacy was probably world war ii. the very fact that the last world war came to its final end after the atomic bomb was deployed is indicative of the fact that once one aspect of human practical experience is affected by a change of scale, others are affected as well. while the millions of victims (the majority of whom were raised in the expectations of the civilization of literacy) might make us reluctant to mention literacy, in fact, war's systematic cruelty and extermination power are the result of literacy characteristics implicit in the effective functioning of the war machine and in the articulation of war goals. in the history of world war ii, the chapter about language is probably as enlightening as the chapters devoted to the new weapons it brought about: the precursors of modern rocket systems, in addition to the atomic bomb. each of the powers involved in this large-scale war understood that without the integrating force of literacy, exercised in and around the conflict, the enemy could not succeed. many books were written about the escalation of hostility through the language of political and ideological discourse. many prejudices associated with this war were expressed in exquisitely literate works, supported by formally perfect, logical arguments. on the other hand, some writers pointed out the weaknesses of literacy. roland barthes, for example, studied its fascist nature. others mentioned the inadequacy of a medium bound to fail because it was so opaque that it covered thoughts instead of revealing them, validated false values instead of exposing them for what they were. the language of politics extended truly into the language of the conflict. thanks to radio and newspapers, as well as the rhetoric of rallies, it was able to address entire nations. the industrial establishment, upon which the war machine was built, still embodied the characteristics of the pragmatic framework of literacy. it was based on the industrial model of intense manufacturing. millions of people had to be moved, fed, and logistically supported on many fronts. the war involved elements of an economy in crisis, affording much less than abundance. germany and its allies, having planned for a blitzkrieg, threw all their limited resources into the preparation and execution of the war. europe was coming out of the depression resulting from world war i. the people were promised that victory would bring the well deserved recompense that had eluded them the first time around. against this background, literacy was mobilized in all the areas where it could make a difference: education, propaganda, religious and national indoctrination, in the racist discourse of justifications and in articulating war goals. ideological purposes and military goals, expressed in literate discourse, addressed equally those on the front lines and their families. literacy actively supported self- discipline and restraint, the acceptance of centralism and hierarchy, as well as the understanding of extended production cycles of intense labor and relatively stable, although not necessarily fair, working relations. all these characteristics, as well as a self-induced sense of superiority, were reflected in the war. advanced levels of labor division and improved forms of coordination of the parties involved in the large scale experience of factory labor marked the military experience. the war entailed confrontations of huge armies that practically engaged entire societies. it combined strategies of exhaustion (blockades, crop destruction, interruption of any vital activities) and annihilation. millions of people were exterminated. the structure of the army embodied the structure of the pragmatic framework. its functioning was reflective of industrial systems designed to process huge quantities of raw material in order to mass-manufacture products of uniform quality. what made literate language use essential in work and market transactions made it essential, in forms appropriate to the goal, to the prosecution of the war. from this perspective, it should become clear why major efforts were made to understand this language. efforts were also made to get information about tactics and strategy embodied in it, as much ahead of time as possible, and to use this literate knowledge to devise surprise or counter-strategies. this is why language became a main field of operation. enemies went after military code (not a different language, but a means of maintaining secrecy) and did not spare money, intelligence, or human life in their efforts to understand how the opposing forces encoded their plans. the brightest minds were used, and strategies of deceit were developed and applied, because knowing the language of the enemy was almost like reading the enemy's mind. at the risk of dealing with the obvious, i should state here clearly that the language of war is not the same as everyday language; but it originates in this language and is conceived and communicated in it. both are structurally equivalent and embodied in literacy. to dispose of the enemy's use of language means to know what the enemy wants to do and how and when. in short, it means to be able to understand the pragmatics of the enemy as defined under the circumstances of war, as these extended the circumstances of life and work. since language projects our time and space experience, and since wars are related to our universe of existence, understanding the language of the enemy is actually integrated in the combat plan and in a society's general war effort. climbing hills to establish a good offensive position, crossing rivers in a defensive move, parachuting troops behind enemy lines in a surprise maneuver are human experiences characteristic of the pragmatic context of literacy, impossible to relate to the goal pursued without the shared conventions implicit in language. some people still believe that the master coup of world war ii was the breaking of the ciphers of the enigma machines used by the germans, thus making the function of language, in such an effort of millions of people, the center of the war effort. polish cryptoanalysts and the british operation, in which alan turing (the father of modern computing) participated, succeeded in deciphering, reconstructing, and translating messages that, re-enciphered in allied codes (the ultra material), decisively aided the war effort. by the end of the war, the world was already a different place. but within the framework of war, and in direct connection to the changes in practical human self- constitution, a structural shift to a different dynamics of life and work had started. various aspects related to the determinism that eventually resulted in the war started to be questioned through new practical experiences: the need to overcome national interests; the need to transcend boundaries, those boundaries of hate and destruction expressed in the war; the need to share and exchange resources. visionaries also realized that the incremental increase in world population, despite the enormous number of deaths, would result in a new scale of human experiences that could not be handled within a rigid system with few degrees of liberty. the recent illiterate war in the arabian gulf, and the never-ending terrorist attacks all over the world, can be seen, in retrospect, as the progeny of the war that brought down the civilization of literacy. the concept of blitzkrieg and the dropping of the a-bomb at hiroshima and nagasaki were a foretaste of the quick, efficient, illiterate war. the nintendo war (a cliché revisited) military all over the world disposes of the highest technology. even countries that can afford to maintain outmoded large armies-because of population density, relatively low salaries, and the ability to draft the entire population-seek the latest weapons that scientific discovery and technological progress can offer. the weapons market is probably the most pervasive of all markets. among the numerous implications of this state of affairs, none is more disconcerting than the fact that human genius serves the cause of death and destruction. in some countries, food reserves barely cover needs beyond a season or two; but the military has supplies to cover years of engagement. today the military is in control of the most sophisticated technology ever created. it is also becoming an institution of a rather low level of literacy, publicly deplored and politically questioned. this assertion applies less (but it still applies) to the command level, and more to its enlisted men and women. addressing the topic of language proficiency, darell bott provides an interesting portrait of a person who joins the military intelligence unit of the national guard as a linguist. after training in the defense language institute, the individual loses percent of his language skills and fails to meet language proficiency standards. every effort is made to change this situation, even before understanding it. darell bott's description does not refer to an accidental, individual failure, but to the implicit dynamics of military practical experiences in the civilization of illiteracy. a linguist, of all professionals, does not choose to lose literate language proficiency. this proficiency is just not necessary for attaining the efficiency called for in the military. not really understanding this structural condition, armies introduce their recruits to weaponry-the majority designed for the illiterate warrior- and to the skills of reading and writing. these skills dispense ideology, religion, history, geography, psychology, and sex education in concentrated doses. the situation is paradoxical: what defines the practical experience of the military today-high technology, division of tasks, networking, distributed responsibilities-conflicts with the traditional expectations of clear lines of command, hierarchy, authority, and discipline. the means that render useless the characteristics stemming from literacy-based pragmatics are welcome, but the human condition associated with them is frightening. yes, a literate soldier can be better indoctrinated, subjected to the inherent arguments of literacy, of rules and authorities to be obeyed. but the nature of the pragmatics of war has changed: faster action makes reading-of instructions, commands, messages-inappropriate, if not dangerous. for focusing on targets moving at a speed far higher than that afforded by literacy-based training, one needs the mediation of the digital eye. conflicts are as segmented as the world itself, since clear- cut distinctions between good and bad no longer function effectively. centralized military experiences based on structures of authority and hierarchy are counterproductive in actual conflicts of complex dynamics. the war in vietnam is a good example of this. during this war, instructions were transmitted from the top of the hierarchy down to the platoons through commanders not adept at the type of war vietnam represented. even the president of the usa was effectively involved, more often than not through decisions that proved detrimental to the war effort. the usa forgot the lesson of its own pragmatic foundation in imitating, as it did in vietnam, the literate wars of europe in a context of confrontation characteristic of the civilization of illiteracy. memoirs, published too late (robert macnamara's is but one example), reveal how the literate paradigm embodied in the government and the military kept from the public essential information that, in retrospect, rendered the loss of so many human lives meaningless. the luxury of a standing army and the cost of subjecting soldiers to long cycles of training, literacy included, belong to the previous pragmatic framework. the time of the life-long warrior is over. the experience of war changes as quickly as new weapons are invented. the new scale of humankind requires global levels of efficiency impossible to attain if productive forces are withdrawn from productive experiences. once upon a time, the military distinguished itself as a separate body in the social texture. the civilization of illiteracy reintegrated the military in the network of assignments and purposeful functions of the pragmatics of high efficiency. from the complete suit of armor worn in medieval europe (before firearms rendered it ineffective) to the plain-clothes military of today, not only have over years gone by, but, more important, new forms of self-constitution, and hence identification, became necessary and real. sulfur fumes used over , years ago in the battle at delium and the threat of chemical and biological weapons in the gulf war are superficially related. the same knowledge that goes into producing new chemical and biological means used in high efficiency agriculture and in food preparation goes into chemical and biological weapons of mass destruction. this is not a discourse in favor of efficient armies which are of great help during natural disasters, nor is it a discourse in favor of destructive wars, no matter who justifies them. if it sounds like one, it is because the literate description of the structural background against which, whether we like it or not, the practical experience of the military takes place, bears the stamp of literate praxis. in the civilization of illiteracy, the military has come to acknowledge that there is little that can, or should, be done to restore literacy as its coordinating mechanism. literacy is not necessarily the best system for achieving optimal military performance at the level facilitated by new technologies. neither is it, as some would like to believe, a means of avoiding war. the literate human being proved to be a war beast equal, if not superior, to the illiterate who was subjected to impression and conscription, or who enlisted as a mercenary. current military research attempts to remove human beings from the direct confrontation that war used to entail. nothing affects public support for military action more than body-bags. these spoil the fun and games that expensive missiles provide, the reason for which the gulf war was nicknamed "the nintendo war." and missiles fare better among the netizens, despite their reluctance to embrace belligerence for settling disputes. highly efficient, sophisticated digitally programmed systems do not relate to space and time the way humans do. this aspect gives the machines an edge in respect to the implicit coordination expected in war. the kinds of interaction that military praxis requires makes literacy inadequate for coordinating the humans who constitute today's armies. time is segmented beyond human perception and control; space expands beyond what a person can conceive and control. major components of a war machine are placed in outer space and synchronized by extremely time-sensitive devices. the strategic defense initiative (dubbed star wars) was the most advertised example. more trivial systems, like those used in orienting troops in the desert, are a matter of routine. the expressive power required for increasing motivation, and for projecting a rational image of irrationality, collides with the requirement for speed and precision essential to accomplishing complex tactical and strategic plans. coordination of sophisticated information systems machines does not have to rely on a language frequently not precise enough, or fast enough, to accommodate very dynamic processes. at speeds beyond that of sound at which battles are fought with airplanes, rockets, satellites, and missiles, a soldier observing a target would be late in pressing a trigger, not to mention waiting for the command to fire. the complexity of war machines is such that even their maintenance and repair requires means independent of the language that functions according to the rules of literacy. it should come as no surprise that the electronic book has already appeared in the military sphere of human experience. this book is the digitally stored description of a device, not the printed book that was once the manual describing it. if the device is an airplane, or gun system on the airplane, or equipment on a ship, the weight of manuals needed to explain its functioning, or to support maintenance and troubleshooting, would keep the airplane grounded. any change in such a complex system would require reprinting of thousands of pages. in its electronic version, the book is a collection of data manipulated by a computer, displayed in visual form when necessary, and programmed to make recognition of the problem and its solution as simple as possible-idiot-proof, in fact. it is not a sequential collection of pages indexed in a table of contents and requiring a linear reading strategy. the electronic book opens to the appropriate page, and every page is generated only as necessary, according to the maintenance or repair requirements of the case. obviously, the readers addressed by the electronic book are different from the literate. they are at least partially visual literates who know how to look at an image and follow pictographic prompts. instead of reading, the human operators carry out the required operation, supervised by the system, counting only on the feedback from the machine. under these circumstances, efficiency expectations make the use of the human being almost a luxury. the paradigm of self-servicing machines, of circuits that can fix themselves (von neumann's genius at work) is already a reality. the electronic book-here presented in an application of military relevance, although there is more to it than that-is one example from the many that can be given regarding how our good old verbal literacy is becoming obsolete. electronic books constituted over networks (wired or wireless) support a wide range of collaborative activities. by their nature, military experiences utilize such activities. access to resources and to an unlimited array of possible interactions is essential to collaboration. literate expression cannot fulfill these requirements. digital formats used in electronic books serve as a medium for sharing and understanding goals. the subsumation of individuality to the goal is probably the only specifically military component that carries over from previous experiences of war. nevertheless, this subsumation does not follow the patterns of centralism and the hierarchy of literacy. the methods are different in that more initiative than ever before is required from the soldiers. this initiative is embodied in alternate means of expression and communication. in electronically synchronized instruments, programs of distributed tasks and massive parallel computation replace literacy and literacy-based actions. today's technology permits flying at low altitude and high speed, but limitations of the human biological system make this dangerous for the pilot. when reaching a certain speed, the human can no longer coordinate movements without which low altitude flying becomes suicidal. but suicide is no alternative to avoiding enemy radar, since there are no words capable of alerting a pilot to the heat detector guided missile. accordingly, languages addressing machines and vision systems with detection capabilities change the nature of human involvement in military situations. again, these languages make the participation of literate language less and less significant. literacy-based means cannot provide for the expected coordination. mediation takes place among many distributed, loosely interconnected devices; efficiency increases due to the many resources integrated in such powerful and ubiquitous systems. i give these examples-rudimentary in comparison to the nintendo war we watched on our television screens a few years ago-from the viewpoint of someone who believes in life, peace, and human understanding, but also as one who sees a progressive discarding of literacy from one of the most language-dependent forms of human interaction and coordination. as with everything liberated from language and literacy, military practice was dehumanized. this consequence is likely to be welcomed in its more general significance-let machines kill machines. just as in factories and offices, the human being is replaced by programs endowed with knowledge mediated by something other than literacy. what changes the structure of military activity, and language's participation in it, are the new languages embodied in the technology. that computer-game simulations of flight or target-shooting are basically equivalent to the systems of precision and destruction used in the gulf war need not be repeated. but that players of computer games grow up with skills expected from jet pilots and from operators of extremely productive technology deserves attention and thought. do weapons speak and write and read? do they understand the language of the officer who decides when they are to be fired? is an intelligent weapon system capable of interpreting whether a legitimate target should indeed be wiped out, even if at the time of its use, circumstances would speak against destroying it on moral grounds? i ask these questions-which can only be answered with a "no"-on purpose. the literate attitude, according to which military praxis is one of command and execution requiring language, presents us with a contradiction. non-military practical experience is more and more mediated by many languages and synchronized in a vast network of distributed assignments. if military experiences were to remain literacy-based, this would be equal to maintaining different pragmatic structures and pursuing goals of disparate efficiency. it is true that the literacy still involved in the military is reflected in structures of hierarchy, a relative expectation of centralism (in the usa, as in many other countries, the president is the commander-in-chief), and dependency on deterministic models. nevertheless, the expectation of efficiency makes critical the need to adopt essentially non-hierarchic, self-management structures promoting coordination and cooperative efforts within a distributed network of different assignments. in the partial literacy of the military, a redefinition of the process of goal- setting and the pursuit of assignments other than destruction, such as relocation of refugees or aiding vast populations subjected to natural disasters, continuously takes place. security is another area of self-constitution that derives benefits from military praxis. the smaller and more distributed wars through which terrorism seeks to accomplish its goals have resulted in small armies of highly trained security personnel to protect the civilian public. combat is truly global. but as opposed to the small war of the middle ages, the illiterate terrorist respects no rules and no higher authority. no army could have changed the world more than the new system of human relations geared toward achieving levels of efficiency corresponding to numbers of people in pursuit of satisfying their needs, and of others achieving levels of prosperity never before experienced. armies, as much as schools and universities, as much as the nations they are supposed to defend, as much as the nuclear family, and all the activities related to them and all the products they generate, correspond to the structure of praxis of a loosely connected world with patterns of human practical experiences marked by individual success and dependent on personal performance. the look that kills smaller, more deployable, as efficient as possible-this description sums up the characteristics of new weapons on the wish-list of almost any army in the world. on a more specific basis, defense officials have sketched some research and development objectives. here are some, obviously all subject to obsolescence: worldwide all-weather forces for limited warfare, which do not require main operating bases, including a force that is logistically independent for days tracking of strategically relocatable targets global command control, communications, and intelligence (c i) capabilities to include on-demand surveillance of selected geographical areas and real-time information transfer to command authorities weapon systems that deny enemy targeting and allow penetration of enemy defenses by managing signatures and electronic warfare air defense systems to overmatch threat systems weapons that autonomously acquire, classify, track, and destroy targets reduction of operations and support resources requirement by % without impairing combat capability expected are a force powered by electricity (ecological concerns), robotic tanks and aerial vehicles, and-this is not science fiction-bionically enhanced soldiers with embedded chips, able to sleep when commanded, and an exoskeleton system allowing individuals to carry pounds around the battlefield (compared to the mere they carry now). general jerry c. harrison even formulated the following order: "okay guys, let's shoot number . tune in your goggles to see but not be seen." the look that kills (the proud accomplishment of university-based research) becomes reality. the only comment that can follow such a description is that all the characteristics of the civilization of illiteracy are embodied in the expectations of military efficiency. globality, interconnectedness, open-ended goals and motivations, reduced human involvement, and many partial literacies are all here, presented in specific expectations. the questionable aspect is the implicit theme of the permanence of the institution of the military, probably the most resilient legacy of the civilization of literacy. what the technology of the civilization of illiteracy requires is the command of the abstractions (the language) driving it, the partial literacy associated with this language, pertinent to military or any other use. as one of the partial literacies of this time, military literacy defines the domain of action and the interpretation of such actions. it is relevant, for instance, that disarmament treaties not be formulated without military language, i.e., without the military experts, the ones we want to release from their functions. each such treaty either discards a part of the language of weapons and associated technologies, or makes it less relevant, as it opens new avenues for increased military efficiency. the new organization of the military is one of confronting technologies and associated military literacy. accordingly, to talk about orders given by an officer, whether a weapon understands such orders, and all similar logocentric examples, means to still look at the military from the perspective of a civilization from which it continuously distances itself. artificial eyes (radar, vision systems), odor detectors, touch-sensitive devices, speed sensors, and many other digital devices free the human being from confrontation and progressively eliminate death from the equation of war. those who compare the photographic images of previous wars to animation on computer game terminals compare a condition of direct confrontation, of our own nature, and of the realization of the limited condition of life to that of mediated experiences. the night sky lit up by tracers, the eerie video-game-like actions, the targets seen through remote cameras are of a realm different from that of destruction and blood, where moral concern is triggered. the expectation is pragmatic, the test is efficiency. the survival of the military institution in its literate structure and the lack of understanding of just what makes literacy unnecessary in the pragmatic framework of today's global world are not the same thing. the first aspect refers to the immense inertia of a huge mechanism; the second involves the difficult task of freeing ourselves, as products of literate education, from ourselves. recognition of such a fundamental change does not come easy. universities, bastions of literacy, producing the illiterate technology of war, are caught in the dilemma of negating their own identity, or becoming agents of illiterate action. we hang on to the ideal of literacy, as well as to the so-called necessity of strong defense-which reflects literacy-based values such as national borders in a global world-because we are not yet ready to cope with a new dynamics of change that is not militarily determined, but which results from structural necessities of a socio-economic nature. the political map of the world changed drastically in recent years because factors affecting the pragmatic framework of human practical experience, at the scale we reached today, are at work. globality is not a dream, a political goal, a utopian project, but a necessity resulting from this new scale. book five the interactive future: individual, community, and society in the age of the web collapse and catastrophe as opposed to hope and unprecedented possibilities- these are the party lines in the heated discussions centered on the dynamics of ongoing changes in which the whole world is involved. paul virilio is quite expressive in his formulation of the problem: "an accompanying evil...is the end of writing, as it unfolds through image technology, cinema/film, and television screen. [...] we don't read anymore, we hardly write each other, since we can call each other on the phone. next, we will no longer speak! i'd really like to say: this will indeed be the silence of the lambs!" no less powerful in their assertions are those who see chances for social renewal in interactions not embodied in the rules of literacy. the electronic forum of the european commission, involved in project information society, lists ten bones of contention from which i chose the following: "the system we are stuck with and frantically trying to fix comes from another time and an entirely different set of circumstances. it is changing massively in front of our noses and needs to be completely rethought and radically overhauled." the statement is less expressive than virilio's, but no less intolerant. as discussions continue to bring up extremely important aspects of the conflict marking this time of discontinuity, the billions of people populating our world today constitute themselves through a broad variety of practical experiences. a list of these experiences-from primitive patterns of hunting and gathering food to eye movement command of remote systems and applications driven by voice recognition in the world of nanotechnological synthesis-would only augment the confusion. given this broad pragmatic spectrum, no one could seriously project the future as one of virtual communities, or of an electronic democracy, without sounding overly naive or directly stupid. we know how far we have come, but we do not really know where we are. in advancing a comprehensive pragmatic perspective, i chose to undertake an elaboration well beyond the short-breathed argumentation peculiar to this moment in time. the advantage of this approach deserves to be shared. endorsing one perspective or another, such as the california ideology-defined by its critics as "global orthodoxy concerning the relation between society, technology, and politics"-or alternatives-the so-called european model, or the transactional structure, or neo- marxian solutions, to name a few-is not an option. indeed, the argument of this book is that answers cannot result from infatuation with technology, cultural self-replication, models based on biological mechanisms, unfocused bionomic elaborations, or incessant criticism of capitalism. affirmations of a deep nature, above and beyond the rhetoric of intellectual controversy and political discourse, must originate from those affirmative actions through which our identity as individuals, communities, and society are established. the metaphor of the interactive future is the expression of a simple thesis: at the global scale, human interaction, as the concrete form of engaging infinitely diverse cognitive resources, is the last available resource on which the future of the species can depend. transcending literacy transcending literacy takes place in the practical experiences of the pragmatics of high efficiency corresponding to the global scale of humankind. this scale affects the constitution of human communities and the interaction between individuals and community. as has already been mentioned, bedouins in the sahara desert and indians in the andes mountains are no less hooked up to television than people living in technologically highly developed countries. more important, the identities of peoples in less developed societies on the global map of economic and political interdependencies are already subject to the most advanced processing techniques. in the ledgers of the global economy, their existence is meticulously entered with respect to what they can contribute and through what they need and can afford. people constituting virtual communities, in silicon valley, japan, france, israel, and any other place on this globe, are subject to integration in the global scale through different means and methods. the expansion of non-literacy based human practical experiences of self- constitution raises legitimate concern regarding the social status of the individual and the nature of community interdependencies. children, for example, are subjected to more images than language. they have the tendency to perceive time as a continuous present and expect gratification to be as instantaneous as it appears on television, or as easy to achieve as connecting to exciting web sites. they wind up experts in interactive games and in controlling extremely fast processes. disconnected from culture and tradition, they are extremely adaptable to new circumstances and in a hurry to ascertain their version of independence. sex, drugs, rap music, and membership in cults or gangs are part of their contradictory profile. these adolescents are the pilots of the nintendo wars, but also the future explorers of outer space, the physicists, biologists, and geneticists who create new materials and subject machines of breathtaking complexity to tasks in which every millionth of a second is essential to the outcome. they are also the future artists and record-breaking athletes; they are computer programmers and designers of the future. and they will be the service providers in an economy where change, predicated by the need to swiftly match outcome to ever-increasing demand, cannot be met by means burdened by the inertia and heavy-handedness of literacy. as data make clear, such individuals are bound to be less involved in community life and less committed to the ethics of the past. moral absolutes and concern for others do not play a major role in their lives, which are shaped by practical experiences tending towards self-sufficiency, sometimes confused with independence. in view of all these characteristics, which reflect the decreasing role of literacy-based human experiences, the question often asked is how will the relation between the community and extremely efficient individuals, constituted in relatively insular experience, be shaped? moreover, what will the status of community be? in this respect, it is important to know what forces are at work, and to what extent our own awareness can become a factor in the process. in our day, many people and organizations deplore the state of urban life (in the usa and around the world), high unemployment, the feeling of disenfranchisement that individuals, and sometimes whole communities, have. immigrants of all the countries they landed in; guest workers in the european community; the young generation in asia, africa, and the countries that once made up the eastern block; the minorities in the usa; the unemployed around the world-each of these groups faces problems reflecting the relation between them as a different entity and the society as a whole. immigrants are not necessarily welcome, and when accepted, they are expected to integrate. guest workers are required to work at tasks with which citizens of the host country do not want to dirty their hands. the young generation is expected to follow in their parents' footsteps. one minority group will have problems with another, and with society at large, in which they are supposed to integrate. the unemployed are expected to earn their benefits and eventually to accept whatever job is available. literacy implied expectations of homogeneity. immigrants were taught the language of their new homeland so they could become like any other citizen. guest workers, defined by their status in the labor market, were expected to gradually become unnecessary and to peacefully return to their native countries. young people, processed through education, and the unemployed, after being offered some short retraining, would be absorbed in the machine called national economy. in respect to community, the historic sequence can be summarized as follows: individuals loosely connected to their peers; individuals constituting viable entities for survival; transfer of individual attributes (self-determination, choice) to the community; integration in centralized community; distribution of tasks; decentralization. each step is defined by the extent of an individual's optimal performance: from very high individual performance, essential to survival, to distributed responsibility, until society takes over individual responsibility. liberal democracy celebrates the paradox of socialized individualism. in this respect, it ends the age of political battles (and, as we hear, the age of history), but opens the age of increased access to abundance. commercial democracy is neither the result of political action nor the expression of any ideology. within its sphere of action, the boundaries between the individual and the very unsettled community represent the territory of conflict. moral individualism succeeds or fails within a framework of adversarial human relations. since moral individualism is actually the underpinning of liberalism-"do what's best for yourself"-the liberty it advances is that of competitive access to abundance. socialized individualism accepts the state only as purveyor of rights and possibilities (when the hegelian notion of the priority of the state over the individual is accepted de facto), not as moral instance. the transition to a pragmatics in which individual performance becomes marginal, in view of the many coordinating mechanisms ensuring redundancies that obliterate personal participation, is definitive of this process. the relative significance of malfunctions-breakdown in the legal and social system, for example-as instances of self-awareness and new beginnings, prompted by the need to remedy past practices, is different in each of the stages mentioned. so is the possibility of change and renewal. creativity in current pragmatics is less and less an issue of the individual and more the result of orchestrated efforts in a large network of interactions. the underlying structure of the civilization of illiteracy supports a pragmatics of heterogeneity, distributed tasks, and networking. human practical experiences of self-constitution no longer generate uniformity, but diversity. there is no promise of permanency, even less of stable hierarchies and centralism. we face new problems. their formulation in literate form is deceptive; their challenge in the context of illiteracy, in which they emerge, is unprecedented. this is what prompts concerns about the civilization of illiteracy. being in language the two aspects of human self-constitution through language-individual and community (society)-derive from the basic issue of social interrelationships. one's language is not independent of the language of the society, despite the fact that, in a given society, people identify themselves through noticeable peculiarities in the way they speak, write, read, and carry on dialogue. elements pertaining to language are integrated in the human's biological structure. still, language does not emerge, as the senses do, but is progressively acquired. the process of language acquisition is at the same time a process of projecting human abilities related to language's emerging characteristics. regardless of the level of language acquired, language overwrites the senses. it projects integrated human beings-a unity of nature and language-prone to identify themselves in the culture that they continuously shape. while nature is a relatively stable system of reference, culture changes as humans change in the process of their various activities. to be within a language, as all human beings are, and in a community means to participate in processes of individual integration and social coordination. individual language use and social use of language are not identical. individuals constitute themselves differently than communities do. that in each community there are elements common to the individuals constituting it only says that the sum total of individual practical experiences of language is different from the language characteristic of the social experience. the difference between the language of the individual and the language of a community is indicative of social relationships. a more general thesis deserves to be entertained: the nature and variety of human interactions, within and without practical experiences of self-constitution in language, describe the complexity of the pragmatic framework. these interactions are part of the continuous process of identification as individuals and groups in the course of ascertaining their identity as a particular species. acknowledged forms of relationships in work, family life, magic, ritual, myth, religion, art, science, or education are evinced through their respective patterns. such patterns, circumscribed by human self-constitution in the natural and cultural context, are significant only retroactively. they testify to the human being's social condition and express what part of nature and what part of culture is involved in this condition. the primordial significance of these two phenomena lies in the expression of practical experiences followed, not preceded, by cognition. active participation of individuals in practical experiences of language acknowledges their need to identify themselves in the patterns of interrelation mentioned. people do not get involved with other people because either party may be nice. involvement is part of the continuous definition of the individual in contexts of conflict and cooperation, of acknowledging similarity and difference. any dynamics, in biology or in culture, is due to differences. people take language for granted and never question its conventions. as a natural, inherited (in chomsky's view) attribute, rather like the human senses, language is not reinvented each time practical experiences of constitution through language take place. neither is its usefulness questioned-as happens with artifacts (tools in particular)-each time our practical experience reaches the limits of language. the breakdown of an artifact-i.e., its inappropriateness to the task at hand-suggests the possible experience of crafting another. the breakdown of language points to limits in the human experience, not in its accessories. malfunctioning of language points to the biological endowment and the ways this is projected in reality through everything people do. this is not true in respect to other, less natural, sign systems: symbols, artificial languages, meta-languages. what changes from one scale of humankind, i.e., from one situation of matching needs to means for satisfying them, to another is the coefficient of the linear equation, not the linearity as such. a small group of people can survive by combining hunting, fruit gathering, and farming. the effort to satisfy a relatively bigger group increases only in proportion to the size of the group. in the known moments when a critical mass, or threshold, was reached (language acquisition, agriculture, writing, industrial production, and now the post-industrial), the expectation of higher efficiency corresponding to each scale of human experiences triggered changes in the pragmatic framework. the awareness of language's failure derives from practical experiences for which new languages become necessary. miscommunication is an instance of language not suitable to the experience. lack of communication points to limitations of the humans involved in an activity. miscommunication makes people question (themselves, others) about what went wrong, why, and what, if anything, can be done to avoid practical consequences affecting the efficiency of their activity. other forms of language malfunction can affect people as individuals or as members of a community in ways different from those peculiar to communication. the failure of political systems, ideologies, religion(s), markets, ethics, or family is expressed in the breakdown of patterns of human relations. we keep alive the language of those political systems, ideologies, religions, and markets even after noticing their failure, not by accident or through oversight but because all those languages are us, as we constitute ourselves as participants in a political process, subjects of ideological indoctrination, religious believers, commodities in the market, family members, and ethical citizens. the inefficiency of these experiences reflects our own inefficiency, more difficult to overcome than poor spelling, etymological ignorance, or phonetic deafness. the wall behind the wall an appropriate example of the solidarity between language experience and the individual constituted in language is provided by the breakdown of the east european block, and even more pointedly by the breakdown of the soviet union. nobody really suspected that once the infamous berlin wall came down, the people who lived to the east of it, trained and educated in and for a pragmatic framework whose underlying structure was reflected in their high degree of literacy, would remain captive to it as their legal, social, and economic conditions changed. despite the common language- german is the language through which national unity was ascertained-east germans are prisoners of the structural characteristics of the society projected on them through literacy: centralism, clear-cut distinctions, determinism, strong hierarchical structures, and limited choice. the invisible but powerful inner conditioning of the east germans' literacy-categorically superior to that of their western brothers and sisters-is not adequate to the new pragmatics attained in west germany and raises obstacles to east germany's integration in a dynamic society. the illiterate pragmatics of high efficiency, associated with high expectations that seem to outpace actual performance, was foisted on east germans by the well intentioned, though politically opportunistic, government from across a border that should never have existed. things are not different in other parts of the world-korea, hungary, romania, the czech republic, slovakia, poland, croatia, serbia, etc., where the rhythms of pragmatic developments and social, political, economic, national, and cultural developments are totally desynchronized. the best poetry was written in east europe; most of the books ever written were read by its people. it is impossible to ignore that the best theater in the world, the most elaborate cinematography, the best choirs and dance ensembles, and even the highest level of mathematical theory, physics, and biology became possible in a context of restriction, oppression, and disregard of individuals and their creativity. it is also impossible not to finally realize that the strength built on literacy-based structures was deceiving and self-deceiving. in the not-too-distant past, the people of these countries read books, attended concerts and operas, and visited museums. now, if they are not in misery, they are as obsessed with indulging in everything they could not have before, even if this means giving up their spiritual achievements. consumption is the new language, even before a basis for efficient practical experiences is put in place, and sometimes instead of it. the old relation between the language of the individual and the language of society displayed patterns of deception and cowardice. the new emergent relation expresses patterns of expectation well beyond the efficiency achieved, or hoped for, in this integrated world of extreme competitive impact. the wall behind the wall is embodied in extremely resistant patterns of human interaction originating in the context of literacy- based pragmatics. with this example in mind, it is critical to question whether there are alternatives to the means of expression people use and to the social program they are committed to-democracy. the experience of language today is very different from that of the time when the jacobins asserted a notion of democracy as the general will ( ), under the assumption of a literate background shared by all people. the message is the medium language is a form of social memory. when saying something or listening to some utterance, we assume a uniform use of words and of higher level linguistic entities. as stored testimony to similar practical experiences, language, stabilized in literacy, became a medium for averaging them. the patterns of human relations captured in language make people aware, in retrospect, of the relevance of these patterns to human efficiency. so it seems that we constitute ourselves as our own observations about how we interact. these observations are identified as cognition, because it is through interaction that we know each other and know how, what, and when our immediate and less immediate needs are satisfied. the paradigm of literacy asserts that human self-constitution takes place in language, moreover that it could effectively happen only in language, expressed in written forms and made available through reading. indeed, knowledge was derived from praxis implying human interaction that integrated language-based exchanges of information. this knowledge shaped political, ideological, religious, and economic experiences, as well as efforts to improve the technology used, and even broaden the scientific perspective. the dimension of future is intrinsic to life, from where it extends to language and literacy, as it extends to artifacts, work, and pragmatic expectations. the practical experience of language, as any other semiotic practical experience, embodies agreements regarding the nature and condition of whatever is constituted in language, human identity included. the projection of the biological and cultural characteristics on the world of our life and action establishes elements of reference. the ability to see, hear, and smell, and the ability to use tools are acknowledged as humans interact. ability and performance differ widely. self-evaluation and evaluation by others in the process of defining and achieving goals of common interest are quite distinct. language mediates, hence it makes commitments part of the experience. when these are not carried through, language can become a substitute medium for confrontation. experiences of agreement and experiences of confrontation are part of the patterns of interrelationship that define how the language of individuals and the language of the community are related. socialization of language leads to paradoxical situations: humans self-constituted in the language experience perceive their own language as though confrontation is not among themselves, but among their languages. only a few years ago, we heard about how much americans and russians liked each other, although the language of politics and ideology was one of conflict. now we hear how ossies (east germans) and wessies (west germans) have strong feelings about each other (one side is described as lazy, the other as arrogant; one side as cultivated, the other as ignoramuses; some as honest, the others as corrupt) although the language they both share is the same (though not quite). iranians and arabs, armenians and georgians, and serbs and croats could add to this subject more than we want to know about the language of prejudice. shortly before malthus issued his equation of population growth in relation to the growth of subsistence means, rousseau stated a law of the inverse proportion between size of population and political freedom. rousseau ascertained that the strength of those exercising power over others increases as the number of those subjected to power increases. the inverse proportion has to do with the influence each individual has in the political process-the more people, the weaker each voice. scale is critical, but so is understanding the relation between the underlying structure of the pragmatics that defines the role of language and how this role is carried out. practical experiences of power concentration are supported by literacy, whose implicit structure and expectation is centralism and representation. literacy generates instances of conflict as well as institutions that regulate the nature of agreements and disagreements. bureaucracy, the expression of these institutions, is the offspring of the incestuous relation between literacy and democracy. a new scale of humankind, for which literacy-based practical experiences are not adequate, and within which democracy-the power of the people-can no longer be exercised (as rousseau pointed out), poses many challenges. among them: what, if anything, should replace literacy? what could replace democracy? how do we free ourselves from the choking grip of bureaucracy? even before attempting an answer, the notion that the cultural experience of literacy and the social experience of democracy have reached their potential and are due for replacements has to be understood. in a different vein, the understanding that literacy participates in power, of which people become aware in a given cultural and social context, triggers another reaction: means of expression and communication different from those originating under the aegis of literacy participate in pragmatic processes that result in access to power. it is not what a political leader says, but how. powerful images, sophisticated directing, and inspired stage design or selection of backdrops become the message itself. this is why "the message is the medium," a not irreverent reversal of mcluhan's famous formula, phrases the altered nature of the relation between language and the world. interactions in the networked world exemplify this rephrasing even better. the redefined relationship between the many languages of our new practical experiences and reality is expressed in the means and values of the civilization of illiteracy. written into the pompous architecture of mitterand's palaces and monuments in paris, and into the "new" berlin reflecting the medieval notion of centralized power-to the tune of hundreds of billions of dollars-the message of literacy is turned into the medium of brick-and-mortar. in an age of task distribution and decentralization, the appropriate alternative is virtual environments and an advanced infrastructure for access to cognition. "the message is the medium" translates into the requirement of overcoming infatuation with the past, never mind trying to reinvent it. the statement demands that we create alternative media that support the empowerment of individuals, not the further consolidation of power structures that were relevant in the past but which prevent the unfolding of the future. from democracy to media-ocracy democracy is a domain of expectations. humans constitute themselves as members of a democracy to the extent that their practical experiences acknowledge equality, freedom, and self-determination. the concept of democracy has varied enormously over time. in ancient societies, it acknowledged equality of the demos, and that free men-not slaves, not women-were entitled to vote. subject to many emancipations, democracy denotes the right of people to elect their government (based on the general will set forth by the jacobins, as mentioned above). how this self- government actually works-through direct or indirect representation, in forms of government based on the division of power between the executive and legislative, or under monarchies-is itself a matter of practical experiences pertinent to democracy. the democracy of human misery and neglect is quite different from the democracy of affluence. equal access to work, education, health care, and art, and equal access to drugs, murder, joblessness, ignorance, and disease are far from being similar. a small town-meeting in vermont or one in a swiss canton, effectively governing life in town, is quite different from the forms of political self-governance in countries where the central power effectively overrides any self-governance. the same can be said of the overriding power of other factors-the economy, for instance. democracy is a major form of social and political experience. the power of the majority, expressed in votes, is only one of its possible manifestations. when only a minority of the population votes, the so-called majority ceases to be representative, no matter what the formal rules say. we live by democratic practices of delusion, and multiply, enthusiastically, their effect through the literate discourse of democracy. as a domain of expectations, mirroring hope implicit in literacy, democracy conjures meaning only if it is paralleled by democratic participation in social and political experiences. when one of the two terms of this critical equation diminishes-as is the case with participation-democracy diminishes in the same proportion. there are many reasons for decreasing participation. in countries where effective democracy was replaced by democratic demagoguery, changes, such as those brought about by revolutions, revolts, and reforms, initially mobilize the people, almost to the last citizen. we are still observing a phenomenon symptomatic of democracy in east europe and the republics of the former soviet union. from the almost unanimous enthusiasm over renewal, leading to formal conditions for democracy, individual participation in government is slowly diminishing. what are the causes of this phenomenon, which is paralleled by diminishing interest in religion, art, and solidarity? many answers are given, and even more hypotheses are advanced: psychological fatigue, lack of democratic tradition, egotism, desire to catch up with affluent societies. from the perspective of the relationships characteristic of an individual's literate language and literacy programs of societies claiming to be democratic, the answer should be sought in the conflict between literacy-based values and the expectations of efficiency characteristic of the new scale of humankind. efficiency made possible by a pragmatics emancipated from the structural characteristics reified in literacy converted democracy into commercial democracy. people can buy and sell whatever they want. their equality is one of access to the market of affluence; their freedom is sealed in the mutually acknowledged right to plenty. democratization, which people believe is taking place all over the world, is a process of absorbing newer and newer groups of people into prosperity, into the superficial culture of entertainment (including sports competition), and into a government that guarantees the right to wealth and consumption. this description can easily become suspect of moralizing instead of tight analysis. literacy embodies certain expectations from democratic institutions. like other institutions, this type is also subjected to the test of efficiency. when the institutions of democracy fail this test, they are, in the language of democracy, diverted to consolidating not democracy, as a practical experience of the people, but the institution. bureaucracies are generated as a diversion of democracy from its social and political focus in an incestuous love with the language in which its principles are enunciated. mediation insinuates itself between the people and the institutions of democracy. media generalize the role of the literate system of checks and balances and, as mass-media, becomes a participant in the equation of power. taking full advantage of means that characterize the civilization of illiteracy-the power of images, instantaneous access to events, the power of networking, communicative resources of new technologies-the media play a double role: representative of the people and representative of power. since their own domain of experiences is representation, the media depend on the efficiency of the practical experiences of people's self-constitution in productive activities. mass media activity is carried not by its own motivations, but by those of the market, whose locus it becomes. consequently, the equation of democracy becomes the equation of competition and economic success. the media select and endorse causes and personalities appropriate to the process of marketing democracy. instead of government, and the responsibilities associated with it, democracy becomes the people's right to buy, among other things, their government and the luxury of transferring their democratic responsibilities to its institutions. media bashing is a favorite sport of politicians whenever things don't work the way they expect. it is also practiced by the public, especially in times of economic uncertainty or during political developments that seem out of control (wars, violent mass demonstrations, elections). bashing or not, criticism of the media reflects the fact that media expanded their participation in power. the practical experience of public relations, an outgrowth of media participation in power, uses the methods of the media to promote causes and personalities as products best suited for a certain need: support hungry children, elect a sheriff, endorse a tax hike or reduction, etc., etc. the domains of competence and ability are effectively disconnected from the domain of representation. literacy-based methods of establishing hierarchies and influencing choices are enforced by new technologies for reaching targets, even in the most saturated contexts of information dissemination. advisers committed only to the success of their endeavors use the discriminating tools of the market in order to adapt the message to all those who care to play the muddled game of democracy. information brokerage, feedback strategies, symbolic social engineering, mass media, psychology, and event design form an eclectic practical experience. calling it by a certain name-media-ocracy-is probably tendentious. but the shoe seems to fit. from all we know, the effort of this activity does not go towards promoting excellence or persuading communities that democracy entails quality and defending self-government from corruption. it rather focuses on what it takes to convince that mediocrity adequately reflects the quest for equality, and is the most people can expect if they are not dedicated to the exercise of their rights. the literate and illiterate means used to defend democracy, and the entire political system built on the democratic premise, make it only more evident that democracy, an offspring of language-based practical experiences, is far from being the eternal and universal answer, the climax of history. indeed, the scale of humankind renders impossible participation in power through the definition of ideals and goals, as well as awareness of the consequences of human actions. alternative forms of participating in democracy need to be found in the characteristics of the pragmatics corresponding to the new scale. such alternatives have to embody the distributed nature of work, better understanding of the connection (or lack thereof) between the individual and the community, awareness of change as the only permanence, and strategies of co-evolution, regarding equally all other people and the nature to which humans still belong. democracy is the offspring of human experiences based on the postulate of sameness. the alternatives derive from the dynamics of difference. self-organization time, energy, equipment, and intellect have been invested in the research of artificial life. knowledge derived from this research can be used to advance models of individual and social life. this knowledge tells us that diversity and self-organization, for instance, prompted by structural characteristics and externalized through emerging functions, maintain the impetus of evolution in a living system. obviously, humans belong to such a system. in the past, we used to focus on social forms of variable organization. within such forms, iterative optimization and learning take place as an expression of internal necessities, not as a result of adopted or imposed rules of functioning. the entire dynamics of reproduction that marks today's states and organizations in the business of population control, needs to be reconnected to the pragmatic context. as a result, we can expect that communities structured on such principles are endowed with the equivalent of social immune systems, able to recognize themselves and to counteract social disease. reconnection to the pragmatic context needs to be understood primarily as a change of strategy from telling people what has to be done to engaging them in the action. all the promises connected to the fast-growing network of networks are based on this fundamental assumption. a social immune system ought to be understood as a mechanism for preventing actions detrimental to the effective functioning of each and every member of the community. social disease entails connotations characteristic of a system of good and bad, right and wrong. what is meant here is the possibility that individual effort and pragmatic focus become disconnected. reconnection mechanisms are based on recognition of diversity and definition of unity, means, goals, and ideals. adaptability results from diversity; so does the ability to allocate resources within the dynamic community. more than in the past, and more than today, individuals will partake in more than one community. this is made possible by means of interaction and by shared resources. today's telecommuting is only a beginning when we think of the numbers of people involved and the still limited scope of their involvement. the old notion of community, associated mainly with location, will continue to give way to communities of interests and goals. virtual communities on the internet already exemplify such possibilities. the major characteristic of such self-organizing social and cultural cells is their pattern of improvement in the course of co-evolution, which reflects the understanding that political and social aspects of human interaction change as each person changes. the model described, inspired by the effort to understand life and simulate properties pertinent to life through simulations, applies just as much to the natural as to the artificial. global economy, global political concerns, global responsibility for the support system, global vested interests in communication and transportation networks, and global concern for the meaningful use of energy should not lead to a world state- not even boorstin's republic of technology will do-but to a state of many worlds. complexities resulting from such a scale of political practical experiences are such that self-destruction, through social implosion, is probably what might happen if we continue to play the game of world institutions. the alternative corresponds to decentralization, powerful networking associated with extreme distributions of tasks, and effective integrating procedures. in more concrete terms, this means that individuals will constitute their identity in experiences through which their particular contribution might be integrated in different actions or products. they will share resources and use communication means to optimize their work. access to one another's knowledge through means that are simultaneously open to many inquiries is part of the global contract that individuals will enter, once they acknowledge the benefits of accessing the shared body of information and the tools residing on networks. self-organizing human nuclei of diverse practical experiences will allow for the multiplicity of languages of the civilization of illiteracy, freedom from bureaucracy, and more direct co-participation in the life of each social cell thus constituted. advanced specialized knowledge, empowering people to pursue their practical goals with the help of new languages (mathematical notation, visualization, diagramming, etc.), usually insulates the expert from the world. if circumstances are created to meaningfully connect practical experiences that are relevant to each other, fragmentation and synthesis can be pursued together. we are very good at fragmentation-it defines our narrow specialties. but we are far less successful in pursuing synthesis. the challenge lies in the domain of integration. since human activity reflects the human being's multi-dimensionality, it is clear that nuclei of overlapping experiences, involving different perspectives, will develop in environments where resources are shared and results constitute the starting point for new experiences. the identity of people constituting themselves in the framework of a pragmatics that ensures efficiency and diversity reflects experiences through many literacies, and survival skills geared towards co-evolution, not domination. co-evolving technology is only an example. from the relatively simple bulletin boards of the early 's to the internet and web of our day, co-evolution has been a concrete practical instance of the constitution of the netizen. michael hauben, who coined the term, wanted to describe the individuals working towards building a cooperative and collective activity that would benefit the world at large. conflicts are not erased. the net community is not one of perfection but of anticipated and desired diversity, in which imperfection is not a handicap. its dynamics is based on differences in quantity and quality, and its efficiency is expressed in how much more diversity it can generate. the solution is the problem. or is the problem the solution? the inadequacy of literacy and natural language, undoubtedly the main sign system of the human species, is brought more forcefully to light against the background of new forms of practical experiences leading to human self-constitution through many sign systems. extremely complex pragmatic circumstances, predicated by needs that long ago surpassed those of survival, make the limits of literacy-based language experiences stand out. this new pragmatics demands that literacy be complemented with alternative means of expression, communication, and signification. the analysis of various forms of human activity and creativity can lead to only one conclusion: the patterns of human relationships and the tools created on the foundation of literacy no longer optimally respond to the requirements of a higher dynamics of human existence. misled by the hope that once we capture extensions in language-everything people do in the act of their practical self-identification-we could infer from these to intensions-how a particular component unfolds-we have failed to perceive the intensional aspects of human actions themselves. for instance, we know of the diverse components of the practical experience of mathematics-analytic effort, rationality, symbolism, intuition, aesthetics. but we know almost nothing about each component. some simply cannot be expressed in language; others are only reduced to stereotype through literate discourse. does the power of a mathematical expression rely on mathematical notation, or on aesthetic quality? how are these two aspects integrated? where and how does intuition affect mathematical thinking? the same criteria apply, but more critically, to social activities. interactions among people involve their physical presence; their appearance as beautiful, or fit, or appropriate; their capability to articulate thoughts; their power of persuasion; and much more. each component is important, but we know very little about the specific impact each one has. surprised at how dictators come to power, and even more by mass delusion, with or without television as part of the political performance, we still fail to focus on what motivates people in their manifestations as racists, warmongers, hypocrites, or, for that matter, as honest participants in the well-being of their fellow humans. when the argument is rotten but the mass follows, there is more at work than words, appearance, and psychology. language has projected the experience involved in our cultural practice, but has failed to project anything particularly relevant to our natural existence. thus patterns of cultural behavior expressed in language seem quite independent of the patterns of our biological life, or at least appear to have acquired a strange, or difficult to explain, independence. we must give serious thought to our obsession with invulnerability, easy to conceptualize and express in language. it is, for instance, embodied in the medicine of the civilization of literacy. the abrupt revelation of aids, marking the end of the paranoia of invulnerability, might help us understand the ramifications of the uncoupling of our life in the domain of culture-where human sexuality belongs-and our life in the domain of nature-where reproduction belongs. magic reflected the attempt to maintain a harmonious relation with the outside world. it has not yet been decided whether it is medicine-the reified experience of determinism applied in the realm of individual well being-or a parent's embrace that calms a baby's colic; or whether the psychosomatic nature of modern disease is addressed by the technology of healthcare in our days. what we already know is that populations were decimated once new patterns of nourishment and hygiene were imposed on them. when an attained balance was expelled by a foreign form of balance, life patterns were affected. this happened not only to populations in asia, africa, australia, and new zealand, but also in the native populations of the american continents. medical concepts resulting from analytic practical experiences of self-constitution-many reified in the medicine of the civilization of literacy-defy the variety of possible balances and embody the suspicion that "the solution is the problem." literacy, when applicable, works very well, but it is not the universal answer to humankind's increasingly complex pragmatics. in the fortunate position of not having totally abandoned experiences with sign systems other than language, people have been able to change the patterns of training, instruction, industrial production, modern farming, and healthcare. patterns of practical understanding of domains which for a very long time were concealed by literacy are also affected: pattern recognition, image manipulation, design. as a result, new methods for tackling new areas of human experience are becoming possible. instead of describing images through words, and defining a course of action or a goal through a text, and then having the text control the use of visual elements, people use the mediating power of design systems with integrated planning and management facilities. a new product, a new building, and concepts in urban planning are generated while the pertinent computer program computes data pertinent to cost, ecological impact, social implications, and interpersonal communication. the practice of transcending literacy, while still involving literacy, also resulted in the development of new skills: visual awareness, information processing, networking, and new forms of human integration, far less rigid than those characteristic of integration exclusively through verbal language. there is no need to eliminate literacy, as there is no need to reduce everything to literacy. where it is still applicable, literacy is alive and well. on the internet and world wide web, it complements the repertory of means of human interaction characteristic of computer-mediated communication. television holds a large audience captive in one-way communication. the ambition of the world wide web is to enable meaningful one-to-one and one-to-many interactions. the civilization of illiteracy is one of diversity and relies on the dynamics of self- organization. but in order to succeed, several conditions need to be met. for instance, we have not yet developed in appropriate practical experiences of human self- constitution the ability to think in media other than natural language. like many beginners in a new language, people still translate from one language to another. when this does not work, they look for help in the language they know, instead of formulating questions in the alternative language in which they suspect they can be answered. after intuition was eliminated by rationality and system, only minor effort is made towards understanding how intuition comes about, whether in mathematics, medicine, sports, the arts, market transactions, war skills, food preparation, and social activities. in the civilization of literacy, people were, and to a great extent still are, able to ignore some forms of human relationships without affecting the general outcome of human practice. within the new scale and dynamics, human civilization relies on the interplay of more elements. the timing involved in integrating this diversity is much more difficult to accomplish through literacy-based methods, even though timing is critical to the outcome. literacy captures the rough and linear level of relations. new practical experiences of higher efficiency require finer levels and tools adequate to non- linear phenomena for dealing with the parallel processes involved in the self- constitution of individuals and of society. from possibilities to choices if the multiplication of possibilities were not to be met by effective ways of making choices, we would be sucked into the whirlwind of entropy. in practice, this translates into an obvious course of events: allowing for new possibilities, which sometimes take the appearance of alternatives, means to disallow certain known and practiced options of confirmed output. for example, where democracy is taken over by bureaucracy, the town meeting fulfills only a decorative function. there is nothing of consequence in the american president's state of the union address, or in the conventions where political parties nominate candidates for the presidency. with the choice of local and national political representation, the possibility to directly participate in power is precluded. the possibility of using sign systems other than language is far from being a novelty. even the possibility of achieving some form of syncretism is not new by any means. what is new is the awareness of their potential malfunctioning and of the potential for losing control over forms of praxis that become highly complex. from among the many ways the relation between the individual and the community is manifested, the condition of the legal system is probably the best example. whether independent, constituting a domain of regulations and checks with its own motivations, or part of other components of social and political life, the institution of justice encodes its typologies, classifications, and rules in laws. this domain parallels one of human interactions where expected values are permanently subjected to the scrutiny of the pragmatic activity. integrity of the individual and his lawfully acquired goods, the binding nature of commitments, and prohibition of misrepresentation or of rules essential to the well being of the community are rules on which legal experience developed. right and wrong, once identified under circumstances of direct practical experience through consequences for the community's well being, are now constituted in a domain with a life and rules of its own. killing, stealing, and misrepresentation are actions well defined in the written texts of the law. but the law itself, anchored in literacy, consequently detached itself from the real world and now constitutes its own reality and motivations. since this is the case, it is no surprise that legal practice turns out to be nothing more than interpretations of texts and attempts to use language to bring about an outcome based on chimera, not reality. the legal system reacts to innovation by forcing rules originating in other pragmatic frameworks-the strong evidence of dna analysis is only one example-to fit its own criteria of evaluation. instead of constituting a proactive context for the unfolding of the human genius, legal praxis ends up defending only its own interests. the jury system in the usa might appear to many people as an expression of democracy. in the pragmatic context in which the jury system originated, even the notion of peer made sense, since it applied to a reduced and relatively homogeneous community. today, the jury has become part of the odious equation of the dispute between lawyers. the jury is selected to reflect the lowest common denominator so that its members, mostly incompetent, can be manipulated in the adversarial game of the performance produced under the generic label of justice. as an extension of literate language, the experience of legal language builds on its own rules for efficient functioning and establishes criteria for success that corrupt the process of justice. it is a typical example of malfunctioning, probably as vivid as the language of politics. judicial and political praxes document, from another angle, how democracy fails once it reaches the symbolic phase manifested in the bureaucracy of the legal system and of reified power relations. coping with choice self-definition implies the ability to establish a domain of possibilities. but possibilities do not present themselves alone. in the transition from the civilization of literacy to the new civilization of illiteracy, the global domain of possibilities expands dramatically, but the local, individual domains probably narrow in the same proportion. this happens because what at the global level looks like a multiplication of choices, at the level of the individual appears as a matter of effective selection procedures. as long as there is little to choose from, selection is not a problem. the primitive family had few choices regarding nourishment, self-reproduction, and health. choices increased as the practical experiences of self-constitution diversified. migrating populations chose from among selections different from those available to settled human beings. the first known cities embodied a structure of relations for which written language was appropriate. the megalopolis of our day embodies a universe of choices on a different scale. within such a domain of possibilities, there are no effective selection procedures. reduction from practically infinite choices to a finite number of realizations is at best a matter of randomness and exposure. inversely, the slogan "act locally, think globally" can easily lead to failure. many accomplishments that are successful on a local scale would fail if applied globally if they do not integrate awareness of globality from the beginning. within literacy, the expectation that literate people receive, by virtue of knowledge of language, good selection procedures-considered as universal and permanent as literacy itself-was part of its multi-layered self-motivation. in the civilization of illiteracy, this expectation gives way to pursuing consecutive choices, all short-term, all of limited scope and value-free, which even seem to eliminate one's own decision. it appears that choices grab individuals. this explains why one of the main drives in the world today is towards greater numbers of people seeking to live in cities. once a choice is exhausted, the next follows as a consequence of the scale, not as a result of searching for an alternative. this applies as well to professional life, itself subject to the shorter cycles of renewal and change. the powerful mechanism of social segmentation, the result of the many mediating mechanisms in place, makes the problem of coping with choice look like another instance of democracy at work. let's consider some of these choices: to distribute, or not to distribute, condoms to high school and junior high school students; to confirm or deny the right to end one's life (pro-choice or pro-life); to expand heterosexual family privileges to homosexual cohabitation; to introduce uniform standards of testing in education. these examples are removed from the broader context of human self-constitution and submitted, through the mechanism of media- ocracy, more to market validation than to a responsible exercise of civic responsibility. mediation mechanisms characteristic of the civilization of illiteracy cause the choices that a community faces to become almost irrelevant on the individual level. in the new universe of possibilities, expanding as we speak, human beings are giving up autonomy and self-determination, as they participate in several different communities. they share in the apparent choices of society insofar as these match their own possibilities and expectations. but they often have the means to live outside a society when their choices (regarding peace, war, individual freedom, lifestyle, etc.) are different from those pursued by states. citizens of the trans-national world partake in the dynamics of change to a much higher degree than do people dedicated to the literate ideals of nationalism and ethnicity. we can fly to the moon (and people will, either as participants in the space program or as paying passengers). we can afford partaking in unique events- concerts, contests, auctions-some in person, others through the electronic means they can afford. each individual can become president or member of some legislative body; but only some can afford applying for these positions. whether through wealth, intelligence, sensitivity, race, gender, age, or religion, we are not equal in our possibilities, although we are equal in our rights. coping with choice involves matching goals and means of achieving them. literacy is a poor medium for this operation, which takes place between individuals and the many communities to which they belong. the various languages of the pragmatic identification of all those involved in coping with choice operate more effectively. the network of interrelations that constitute our practical existence and the patterns of these relations will continue to change and become globally more complex and locally more confined. while we gain global freedom, we lose local dynamics. at the particular level at which we input our mediating performance, we are in almost total control of our own efficiency. each of the many service providers for industry, physicians, lawyers, or writers is an example of local choices reflected in the increased productivity of those they service and of their own output. at higher levels, where these services are integrated-regardless of whether they provide rust control, x-ray processing, graphic design, or accounting-choices become more limited. consequently, coordination becomes critical. the strategy of outsourcing is based on the notion that maximum efficiency requires specialization that companies cannot achieve. if the process continues in the same direction, coordination will soon be the most difficult problem of practical experience. this is due to the complexity that integration entails, and to the fact that there are no effective procedures for simplifying it. the simpler each task, the more complex the integration. short of submitting a law that reflects this situation, another thesis can be formulated: overall complexity is preserved regardless of how systems are subdivided, or tasks distributed. complexity is transferred from the task to the integration. trade-off awareness of possibilities is more direct than that of complexities. trading choice and self-determination for less concern and higher rewards in terms of satisfying needs and desires is not an exciting alternative. language has not brought the promised awareness of the world, but has made possible a strategy of confinement. the loss of language seems to trouble mainly people who work at language dissemination, maintenance, and awareness. however, after taking language for granted for a long time, people notice those instances when, in need of a word or trying to function in a world of language conventions, language is not up to the task. faced with unprecedented experiences in scientific experimentation, large-scale communication, radical political change, and terrorism, people observe that they do not have the language for these phenomena. they look for words and ultimately realize that those words, assumed to exist, cannot be found because the pragmatic framework requires something other than language. in contrast to tools, like the ones we keep around the house or see mechanics and plumbers using, language is not taken away or lost because we are our language. what is lost from language is a certain dimension of human being and acting, of appropriating reality and producing and exchanging goods, of acknowledging our experience and sharing it with others. cultural, historical, economic, social, and other developments contribute to our notion of literacy. its crisis is symptomatic of everything that made literacy necessary and is based on the particular ways in which literate societies function. this statement does not suggest that the crisis of literacy implies a cultural or economic crisis. for instance, women's emancipation did not start with the emancipation of language. in japanese, in which the man-woman distinction goes so far as to require that women use a different vocabulary than men, women's emancipation could hardly be considered. as an expression of a specific type of social relations, this distinction in language maintains a status against which women might feel entitled to react. many other patterns of human interaction, which prompt practical action for change, are deeply seated in language. watching our children, upon whom we impose literacy, grow, we almost always count the words they learn and evaluate their progress in articulating desires, opinions, and questions. what we neglect to ask is what kind of world does language bring to them in the process of learning language? what kind of practical experiences does language make possible? when children break loose of our language, it is almost too late to understand the problem. language use seems so natural that its syntactic and value-loaded conventions are not questioned. we accept language as it is projected on us. it comes with gods or god, goodness, right, truth, beauty, and other values, as well as distinctions (sexual, racial, generational) that are held to be as eternal as we were taught that language itself is. we project language on our children only in order to be challenged by them through their own language, pretty much attuned to their different pragmatic frame of reference. as a framework within which parents, and ultimately society, want children to think, communicate, and act, language appears to have two contradictory characteristics: liberty and constraint. the all-encompassing change we are witnessing concerns both. in order to function effectively in a society of very specialized patterns of interaction, people realize that a trade-off between liberties and constraints is inescapable. on the level of social and cultural life, people realize that constraints, represented by accepted prejudices and ideologies, impinge upon their limited space of decision-making and infringe upon individual integrity. language turned out to be not only the medium for expressing liberating ideals, but also a stubborn embodiment of old and new prejudices. it is also the instrument of deception, and bears in its ideal of literacy the most evident deception of all-literacy as a panacea for every problem the human species faces, from poverty, inequity, and ignorance to military conflict, disease, starvation, and even the inability to cope with new developments in science and technology. interestingly enough, netizens believe the same thing regarding the internet! in their campaign for free choice of literacy, they are just as dogmatic about their type of literacy as the modern language association, for example, is about the old-fashioned kind. we can accept that this world of enormously diversified forms of human practice (corresponding to the diversity of human beings) requires more than one type of literacy. but this is not yet sufficient condition for changing the current premise of education if the avenues of gaining knowledge are not developed. the assumption that language is a higher level system of signs is probably correct, but not necessarily significant for the inference that in order to function in a society, each member has to master this language. to free ourselves of this inference will take more than the argument founded on the efficiency of illiterate and aliterate individuals who constitute their identity in realms where literacy does not dominate, or ceased being entirely necessary. learning from the experience of interface the exciting adventure of artificially replicating human characteristics and functions is probably as old as the awareness of self and others. harnessing tools and machines in order to maximize the efficiency of praxis was always an experience in language use and craftsmanship. so far, the most challenging experience has been the use of computers to replicate the ability to calculate, process words and images, control production lines, interpret very complex data, and even to simulate aspects of human thinking. programming languages serve as mediating entities. using a limited vocabulary and very precise logic, they translate sequences of operations that programmers assume need to be executed in order to successfully compute numbers, process words, operate on images, and even carry out the logical operations for playing chess and beating a human opponent at the game. a programming language is a translation of a goal into a description of the logical processes through which the goal can be achieved. computer users do not deal with the programming language; they address the computer through the language of interface: words in plain english (or any other language for which interface is designed), or images standing for desired goals or operations. the entire machine does not speak or understand an interface's high-level language. the interaction of the user with the machine is translated by interface programs into whatever a machine can process. providing efficient interfaces is probably as important as designing high level abstract programming languages and writing programs in those languages. without such interfaces, only a limited number of people could involve themselves in computing. the experience of interface design can help us understand the direction of change to which the new pragmatics commits us. at the end of the road, the computer should physically disappear from our desks. all that will be needed is access to digital processing, not to the digital engine. the same was true of electricity. once upon a time it was generated at the homes or workplaces where the people who needed it could use it. now it is made available through distribution networks. natural language accomplished the function of interface long before the notion came into existence. literacy was to be the permanent interface of human practical experiences, a unifying factor in the relation between the individual and society. ideally, interface should not affect the way people constitute themselves; that is, it should be neutral in respect to their identity. this means that people can change and tasks can vary. the interface would account for the change and would accommodate new goals. even in their wildest dreams, computer scientists and researchers in cognitive science and artificial intelligence, who work with intelligent interfaces, do not anticipate such a living interface. interfaces affect the nature of practical experiences in computing. as these become more complex, a breakdown occurs because interfaces do not scale up. instead of supporting better interactions, an interface can hamper them and affect the outcome of computing. language has performed quite well under the pressure of scaling up. it grows with each new human practical experience and can adapt to a variety of tasks because the people constituted in language adapt. in the intimate relation between humans and their language, language limits new experiences by subjecting them to expectations of coherence. language's expressive and communicative potential reaches its climax as the pragmatics that made it possible and necessary exhausts its own potential for efficiency. literate language no longer enhances human abilities in practical experiences outside its pragmatic domain. literacy only ends up limiting the scope of the experience to its own, and limits human growth. many impressive human accomplishments, probably the majority of them, are testimony to the powerful interface that literate language is. but these accomplishments are equal testimony to what occurs when the interface constitutes its own domain of motivations, or is applied as an instrument for pursuing goals that result in a forced uniformity of experiences. if literacy had been a neutral mediating entity, it would have scaled up to the new scale of humankind and the corresponding efficiency expectations, once the threshold was reached. successive forms of religious, scientific, ideological, political, and economic domination are examples of powerful interface mechanisms. to understand this predicament, we can compare the sequence of interfaces connected to the experience of religion to the sequence of computer-user interfaces. notwithstanding the fundamental differences between these two domains of practical experience, a striking similarity has to be acknowledged. both start as limited experiences, open to the initiated few, and expand from a reduced sign system on interactions to very rich multimedia environments. from a limited secretive domain to the wide opening afforded by a trivial vocabulary, both evolve as double-headed entities: the language of the initiated individuals interfaced with the language of the individuals progressively integrated in the experience. no one should misconstrue this comparison, meant only to illustrate the constitutive nature of the experience of interfacing. we could as well focus on the experiences of economics, politics, ideology, science, fashion, or, even better, art. the experience of literacy resulted in some consistency, but also in lost variety. every language of interaction (interface) that disappeared took with it into oblivion experiences impossible to resuscitate. the relation between the individual and community, once very rich at various levels, grew weaker the more literacy took over. literacy norms this relation, shaping it into a multiple-choice quiz. information processing techniques applied on literacy-controlled forms of social interaction require even further standardization in order to be efficient. as a result, the individual is rationalized away, and the community becomes a locus for data management instead of a place for human interaction. the process exemplifies what happens when interface takes over and interacts with itself. the various concerns raised so far only reiterate how important it is to understand the nature of interface processes. but experience gained in computational research of knowledge points to other aspects critical to the relation between the individual and society. humans constitute themselves in a variety of practical experiences that require alternatives to language. powerful mathematical notations, diagrams, visualization techniques, acoustics, holography, and virtual space are such alternative means. non-linear association and cognitive paths, until now embodied in hypertext structures that we experience on the world wide web, belong to this category, too. processing language is not equivalent to integrating these alternative means. cognitive requirements put severe restrictions on experiences grounded in means different from language, on account of the intensity and nature of cognitive processes, as well as of memory requirements. the genetic endowment formed in language-based practical experiences of self-constitution is not necessarily adapted to fundamentally different means of expression. communication requires a shared substratum, which is established in an acculturation process that takes many generations. enhanced by the new media, communication does not become more precise. programs are conceived to enable the understanding of language. everything ever written is scanned and stored for character recognition. images are translated into short descriptions. a semantic component is attached to everything people compute. hopes are high for using such means on a routine basis, though the compass might be set on some elusive direction. even when machines will understand what we ask them to do-that is, when they integrate speech and handwriting recognition functions in the operating system-we will still have to articulate our goals. a technology capable of automating many operations that human beings still perform will increase output, and thus the efficiency of the effort applied. but the real challenge is to figure out ways to optimize the relation between what is possible and what is necessary. procedures that will associate the output to the many criteria by which humans or the machine determine how meaningful that output is, are more important than raw technological performance. until now, literacy has not proven to be the suitable instrument for this goal. people and language change together. individuals are formed in language; their practical experiences reshape language and lead to the need for new languages. if we cannot uncouple language and the human being, especially in view of the parallel evolution of genetic endowment and linguistic ability, we will continue to move in the vicious cycle of expression and representation. the issue is not language per se, but the claim that representation is the dominant, one might say exclusive, paradigm of human activity. neither science nor philosophy has produced an alternative to representation. there is more to physical reality than what language can lay claim to. and there is much more to the dynamics of our existence in a world whose own dynamics integrates it while extending far beyond it. skills needed to function in the physical world-skills which children and newborn animals display-are only partially represented in language. the entire realm of instinctive behavior belongs here. this includes coordination and the very rich forms of relating to space, time, and other living beings. advanced biological and cognitive research (maturana's work leads in this area) shows that various organisms survive without the benefits of representation. very personal human experiences-among them, pain, love, hate, and joy-happen without the benefits and constraints of language representation. there are skills for which we have no representation in language. various tags are used to name them under the heading of parapsychology, magic, and non-verbal communication. once these are described through their results only, they cause reactions ranging from doubt to ridicule. the unusual and inexplicable performances of individuals called idiots savants belong to this category. an idiot savant hears a piano concerto and replays it masterfully, although he or she cannot add two and two. a matchbox falls and the idiot savant can state, without looking at the box, the exact number of matches that fell out. these are feats that are on record. some idiots savants are able to go through long sequences of phone numbers, produce complete listings of prime numbers, and execute incredible multiplication and division. researchers can only observe and record such accomplishments. for other inexplicable phenomena, we simply have no concept available: the amazing last moments before death, the power of illusion, and the visualization aptitudes of some individuals. researchers have accumulated data on the power of prayer and faith, and on paranormal manifestations. it is not the intention of this book to venture explanations of these phenomena, but to point out the great variety of experiences which could be integrated into human praxis but are not, merely because they still defy explanation in language. functioning in a world that we read through the glasses of literacy makes us often blind to what is different, to what literacy does not encompass. a realm of fact and possible abstraction, difficult to compare with the world of existence that language reports about, remains to be explored. when the nobel prize winning physicist richard feynman reported on a difference in machine and human computation, this report pointed to aspects for which language was not prepared to serve as a useful interface, and to a realm different from representation. crises, catastrophes, and breakdowns testify to the borders of a given pragmatic context. they are references as to how far such a context can extend. beyond the context begins the universe of fundamental change and revolution, constitutive of a new framework. the really interesting level of language, and of any other sign system, is not the referential level but the level of constituting new worlds. these worlds do not necessarily extend the old one. telecommuting is an extension of the previous pattern of work. cooperative real-time practical experiences are more than the sum of individual contributions. they are constitutive of non-linear forms of complementarity. the virtual office is but another form of office. virtual community is a constitutive experience. nothing of what we have learned in experiences of broadcasting is pertinent to the participatory aspect of human self-constitution in an environment of fluidity and unsettled patterns of interaction. the goal is not to inform, but to enable and empower. the elaborate combinations of chemicals concocted to increase the effectiveness of medicine, of construction materials, or of electronic components continues earlier patterns. atomic manipulation, intended to synthesize intelligent materials and self-repairing substances and devices, constitutes a new domain of practical experiences. each of these examples belongs to a pragmatic framework different in nature from the one that defined literacy and which literacy embodies and forces upon our experience. centrism-euro-, ethno-, techno- or any other kind-as well as dualism- good and bad, right and wrong, just and unjust, beautiful and ugly-and hierarchy have exhausted their potential. the attempt to measure the emergent pragmatics against ideals that do not originate from within them can only result in empty slogans firmly entrenched in the avatars of machine-age ideologies. as we experience it at the juncture between literacy and illiteracy, the legacy of language is not only accomplishments but also the diversion from what the world is to descriptions that stand for it in our minds, books, and social concerns. the networks of objects and their properties (qualifiers of objects) exist in the civilization of literacy only through language: things are real insofar as they are in language. to overcome this perception is a challenge well beyond the power of most individuals. what emerges in the new pragmatic framework of distributed practical experience and of cooperative, parallel human interactions is a human being self-constituted in a plurality of interconditioning means of expression, communication, and signification. we might just be on the verge of a new age. a sense of the future beyond literacy begins a realm which for many is still science fiction. the name civilization of illiteracy is used to define direction and to point out markers. the richness and diversity of this realm is indicative of the nature of our own practical experiences of self-constitution. the landscape mapped out by these experiences is simultaneously its own borgesian map. one marker along the road from present to future leaves no room for doubt: the digital foundation of the pragmatic framework. but this does not mean that the current dynamics of change can be reduced to the victorious march of the digital or of technology, in general. having challenged the model of a dominant sign system-language and in its literate experience-we suggested that a multitude of various sign processes effectively override the need for and justification of literacy in a context of higher efficiency expectations. we could alternatively define the pragmatic framework of the civilization of illiteracy as semiotic in the sense that human practical experiences become more and more subject to sign processes. the digital engine is, in final analysis, a semiotic machine, churning out a variety of signs. nevertheless, the semiotization of human practical experiences extends beyond computers and symbolic processing. as we have seen, in all human endeavors, semiotic awareness is expressed in choices (of means of expression and communication) and patterns of interaction. successive fashion trends, no less than the new media, global interaction through networks, cooperative work, and distributive configurations are semiotic identifiers. interfaces are semiotic entities through which difficult aspects of the relation between individuals and society are addressed. more precisely, to interface means to advance methods and notions of a new form of cultural engineering, that has the same condition as genetic engineering, although not necessarily based on its mechanism, as the proponents of memetics would like us to believe. no matter how spectacular new technologies are, and how fast the rate of their adoption, pragmatic characteristics that make the quantum leap of efficiency possible within the new scale of humankind remain the defining element of the dynamics of change. to make this point clear no argument is superfluous, and no stone of doubt or suspicion should be left unturned. our concern is not with the malignant rhetoric against technology of a probably insane unabomber, for example. it is with a false sense of optimism focused on fleeting embodiments of human creativity, not on its integration in meaningful experiences. whether a spectacular multimedia program, a virtual reality environment, genetically based medicine, broadband human interaction, or cooperative endeavors, what counts are the human cognitive resources, in the form of semiotic processes irreducible to language and literacy, at work under circumstances of globality. cognitive energy it is impossible to tire of acknowledging applications from which many will people benefit, but which many resent even before these applications become available. they all become possible once they transcend the pragmatic framework of the civilization of literacy because they are based on structurally different means of expression, communication, and signification. we have all witnessed some of these applications: sensors connected to unharmed nervous terminals allow the quadriplegic to move. a child in a wheelchair who exercises in virtual reality can be helped to function independently in the world that qualifies his condition as a handicap. important skills can be acquired by interpolating patterns of behavior developed in the physical world in the rough draft of the simulated world. people are helped to recover after accidents and illness, and are supported in acquiring skills in an environment where the individual sets the goals. in japan, virtual reality helps people prepare for earthquakes and tests their ability to cope with the demand for fast response. interconnected virtual worlds support human interactions in the space of their scientific, poetic, or artistic interest, or combinations thereof, stimulating the hope, as naive as it may sound, for a new renaissance. not everything need be virtual. active badges t transmit data pertinent to an individual's identification in his or her world. not only is it easier to locate a person, but the memory of human interaction, in the form of digital traces, allows people and machines to remember. you step into a room, and your presence is automatically acknowledged. the computer lets you know how many messages are waiting for you, and from whom. it evaluates how far you are from the monitor and displays the information so you can see it from that distance. it reminds you of things you want to do at a certain time. details relevant to our continuous self-constitution through extremely complex practical experiences play an important role in making such interactions more efficient. a personal diary of actions, dialogues, and thinking out loud can be automatically recorded. storing data from the active badge and from images captured during a certain activity is less obtrusive than having someone keep track of us. this is a new form of personal diary, protected, to the extent desired, from intrusion or misuse. this diary collects routine happenings that might seem irrelevant-patterns of movement, dialogue, eating, reading, drawing, building models, and analyzing data. the record can be completed by documenting patterns of behavior of emotional or cognitive significance, such as fishing, mountain climbing, wasting time, or dancing- according to one's wish. at the end of the day, or whenever requested, this diary of our living can be e-mailed to the writer. one can review the events of a day or search for a certain moment, for those details that make one's time meaningful. in the world beyond literacy and literacy-based practical experiences, we can search for artistic events. a play by shakespeare can be projected onto the screen of our eyes, where the boundary between reality and fiction starts. the play will feature the actors of one's choosing. the viewer can even intercalate any person in the cast, even himself or herself, and deliver a character's lines. sports events and games can be viewed in the same way. in another vein, we can initiate dialogues with the persons we care for, or get involved in the community we choose to belong to. belonging, in this new sense, means going beyond the powerless viewing of political events that seem as alien as almost all the mass-media performances they are fed with. belonging itself is redefined, becoming a matter of choice, not accident. belonging goes beyond watching the news and political events on tv, beyond the impotence we feel with respect to the huge political machine. all these can happen as a private, very intense experience, or as interaction with others, physically present or not. to see the world differently can lead to taking another person's, or creature's, viewpoint. how does a recent immigrant, or a visitor from abroad, perceive the people of the country he has landed in? what do human beings look like to a whale, a bee, an ant, a shark? we can enter the bodies of the handicapped to find out how a blind person negotiates the merciless world of speeding cars and people in a hurry. the empathy game has been played with words and theatrics in many schools. but once a person assumes the handicapped body in a simulated universe, the insight gained is no longer based on how convincing a description is, but on the limits of self-constitution as handicapped. people can learn more about each other by sharing their conditions and limitations. and, hopefully, they will ascertain a sense of solidarity beyond empty expressions of sympathy. that all these semiotic means-expression in very complex dynamic sign systems-change the nature of individual practical experiences and of social life cannot be emphasized enough. everything we conceive of can be viewed, criticized, felt, sensed, experienced, and evaluated before it is actually produced. the active badge can be attached to a simulated person- an avatar-let loose to walk through the plans for a new building, or on the paths of an expedition through mountains. the diary of space discovery is at least as important as the personal diary of a person working in a real factory, research facility, or at home. before another tree is cut, before another riverbed is moved, before a new housing development is constructed, before a new trail is opened, people can find out what changes of immediate and long-term impact might result. it is possible to go even a step beyond the integrated world of digital processing and to entrust extremely complicated processes to neural networks trained to perform functions of command, control, and evaluation. unexpected situations can be turned into learning experiences. where individuals sometimes fail-for instance under emotional stress-neural networks can easily perform as well as humans do, without the risks associated with the unpredictability of human behavior. the active badge can be connected, through a local area network of wall-mounted sensors that collect information, to a neural network-based procedure designed to process the many bits and pieces of knowledge that are most of the time wasted. people could learn about their own creativity and about cognitive processes associated with it. they can derive knowledge from the immense amount of their aborted thoughts and actions. ubiquity and unobtrusiveness qualify such means for the field of medical care, for the support of child development, and for the growing elderly population. with the advent of optical computers, and even biological data processing devices, chances will increase for a complete restructuring of our relation to data, information processing, and interhuman relationships. individuals will ascertain their characteristics more and more, thus increasing their role in the socio-political network of human interaction. some people still decide for others on certain matters: how should children play? how should they study? what are acceptable rules of behavior in family and society? how should we care for the elderly? when is medical intervention justified? where does life end and biological survival become meaningless? these people exercise power within the set of inherited values that originated in a pragmatic context of hierarchy associated with literacy. this does not need to be so, especially in view of the many complexities hidden in questions like the ones posed above. our relation to life and death, to universality, permanence, non-hierarchical forms of life and work, to religion and science, and last but not least to all the people who make up our world of experiences, is bound to change. once individuality is redefined as a locus of interaction through rich sign systems, not just as an identity to be explained away in the generality that gnoseologically replaces the individual, politics itself will be redefined. literacy is not all it's made out to be enthusiasm over technology is not an argument; and semiotics, obfuscated by semiologues, is not a panacea. george steiner pointed out that scientists, who "have been tempted to assert that their own methods and vision are now at the center of civilization, that the ancient primacy of poetic statement and metaphysical image is over." this is not an issue of criteria based on empirical verification, or the recent tradition of collaborative achievement, correctly contrasted to the apparent idiosyncrasy and egotism of literacy. the pragmatic framework reflects the challenge of efficiency in our world of increased population, limited resources, and the domination of nature. this framework is critical to the human effort to assess its own possibilities and articulate its goals. let us accept steiner's idea-although the predicament is clearly unacceptable-that sciences "have added little to our knowledge or governance of human possibility." let us further accept that "there is demonstratably more insight into the matter of man in homer, shakespeare, or dostoevsky than in the entire neurology of statistics." this, if it were true, would only mean that such an insight is less important to the practical experience of human self-constitution than literacy-based humanities would like us to believe. literary taste or preference aside, it is hard to understand the epistemological consequence of a statement like "no discovery of genetics impairs or surpasses what proust knew of the spell or burden of lineage." all this says is that in steiner's practical experience of self-constitution, a pragmatics other than genetics proves more consequential. nobody can argue with this. but from the particular affinity to proust, one cannot infer that consequences for a broader number of people, the majority of whom will probably never know anything about genetics, are not connected to its discoveries. we may be touched by the elegant argument that "each time othello reminds us of the rust of dew on the bright blade, we experience more of the sensual, transient reality in which our lives must pass than it is the business or ambition of physics to impart." after all the rhetoric that has reverberated in the castle of literacy, the physics of the first three minutes or seconds of the universe proves to be no less metaphysical, and no less touching, than any example from the arts, literature, or philosophy that steiner or anyone else can produce. science only has different motivations and is expressed in a different language. it challenges human cognition and sentiment, and awareness of self and others, of space and time, and even of literature, which seems to have stagnated once the potential of literacy was exhausted. the very possibility of writing as significantly as the writers of the past did diminishes, as the practical experience of literate writing is less and less appropriate to the new experiences of self-constitution in the civilization of illiteracy. the argument can go on and on, until and unless we settle on a rather simple premise: the degree of significance of anything connected to human identity-art, work, science, politics, sex, family-is established in the act of human self-constitution and cannot be dictated from outside it, not even by our humanistic tradition. the air, clean or polluted, is significant insofar as it contributes to the maintenance of life. homer, proust, van gogh, beethoven, and the anonymous artist of an african tribe are significant insofar as human self-constitution integrates each or every one of them, in the act of individual identification. projecting their biological constitution into the world- we all breathe, see, hear, exercise physical power, and perceive the world-humans ascertain their natural reality. the experience of making oneself can be as simple as securing food, water, and shelter, or as complex as composing or enjoying a symphony, painting, writing, or meditating about one's condition. if in this practical experience one has to integrate a stick or a stone, or a noise, or rhythm in order to obtain nourishment, or to project the individual in a sculpture or musical piece, the significance of the stick or stone or the noise is determined in the pragmatic context of the self-constitutive moment. many contexts confirm the significance of literacy-based practical experiences. history, even in its computational form or in genetic shape, is an example. literacy made quite a number of practical experiences possible: education, mass media, political activism, industrial manufacture. this does not imply that these domains are forever wed to literacy. a few contexts, such as crafts, predated literacy. information processing, visualization, non-algorithmic computation, genetics, and simulation emerged from the pragmatics that ascertained literacy. but they are also relatively independent of it. steiner was correct in stating that "we must countenance the possibility that the study and transmission of literature may be of only marginal significance, a passionate luxury like the preservation of the antique." his assertion needs to be extended from literature to literacy. the realization that we must go beyond literacy does not come easy and does not follow the logic of the current modus operandi of the scholars and educators who have a stake in literacy and tradition. their logic is itself so deeply rooted in the experience of written language that it is only natural to extend it to the inference that without literacy the human being loses a fundamental dimension. the sophistry is easy to catch, however. the conclusion implies that the practical experience of language is identical to literacy. as we know, this is not the case. orality, of more consequence in our day than the majority are aware of, and in more languages that do not have a writing system, supports human existence in a universe of extreme expressive richness and variety. many arguments, starting with those against writing enunciated in ancient times and furthered in various criticisms of literacy, point to the many dimensions of language that were lost once it started to be tamed and its regulated use enforced upon people. again, steiner convincingly articulates a pluralistic view: "...we should not assume that a verbal matrix is the only one in which articulations and conduct of the mind are conceivable. there are modes of intellectual and sensuous reality founded not on language, but on other communicative energies, such as the icon or the musical note." he correctly describes how mathematics, especially under the influence of leibniz and newton, became a dynamic language: "i have watched topologists, knowing no syllable of each other's language, working effectively together at a blackboard in the silent speech common to their craft." networks of cognitive energy chemistry, physics, biology, and recently a great number of other practical experiences of human self-constitution, formed their own languages. indeed, the medium in which experiences take place is not a passive component of the experience. it is imprinted with the degree of necessity that made such a medium a constitutive part of the experience. it has its own life in the sense that the experience involves a dynamics of exchange and awareness of its many components. the cuneiform tablets could not hold the depth of thinking of the formulas in which the theory of relativity is expressed. they probably had a better expressive potential for a more spontaneous testimony to the process of self-identification of the people who projected themselves in the act of shaping damp tablets, inscribing them, and baking them to hardness. ideographic writing may well explain, better than orality, the role of silence in taoism and buddhism, the tension of the act of withdrawal from speech and writing, or the phonetic subtleties at work when more than ideographs were reduced to the standard signs now in use. the historic articulation of the torah, its mixture of poetry and pragmatic rules, is different in nature from the writings, in different alphabets and different pragmatic structures, reflected in the language of the new testament or of the koran. writing under the pragmatics of limited human experiences, and writing after the enlightenment, not to mention today's automated writing and reading, are fundamentally different. gombrich recalls that gutenberg earned a living by making amulet mirrors used by people in crowds to catch the image of sacred objects displayed during certain ceremonies. the animistic thought marks this experience. it is continued in the moving type that gutenberg invented, yet another mirror to duplicate the life of handwriting, which type imitated. printed religious texts began their lives as talismans. after powerful printing presses were invented, writing extends a different thought- machines at work-in the sequence of operations that transform raw materials into products. all the characteristics associated with literacy are characteristics of the underlying structure of practical experiences, values, and aspirations embodied in the printing machines. the linear function, replicated in the use of the lever, was generalized in machines made of many levers. it was also generalized in literacy, the language machine that renders language use uniform. writing originated in a context of the limited sequences of human self-constitutive practical experiences embodied in the functioning of mechanical machines. the continuation of the sequential mode in more elaborate experiences, as in automated production lines, will be with us for quite a while. nevertheless, sequentiality is increasingly complemented by parallel functioning. similar or different activities carried through at the same time, at one location or at several, are qualitatively different from sequential activities. self-constitution in such parallel experiences results in new cognitive characteristics, and thus in new resources supporting higher efficiency. the deterministic component carried over from literacy- based practical experiences reflects awareness of action and reaction. its dualistic nature is preserved in the right/wrong operational distinctions of the literate use of language, and thus in the logic attached to it. pragmatic expectations of efficiency no longer met by conceptual or material experiences based on the model embodied in literacy have led to attempts to transcend determinism, as well as linear functions, sequentiality, and dualism. a new underlying structure prompts a pragmatics of non-linear relations, of a different dynamics, of configurations, and of multi-valued systems. a wide array of methods and technologies facilitates emancipation from the centralism and hierarchy embodied in literacy-based pragmatics. the pragmatic framework of the civilization of illiteracy requires that the centralism of literacy be replaced through massive distribution of tasks, and non- hierarchic forms of human interactions. augmented by worldwide networking, this pragmatics has become global in scope. probably just as significant is the role mediation plays in the process. as a specific form of human experience, mediation increases the effectiveness of praxis by affording the benefits of integration to human acts of self-constitution. mediation replaces the analytic strategy inherited through literacy, opening avenues for reaching a sense of the whole in an experience of building hypotheses and performing effective synthesis. in order to realize what all this means, we can think of everything involved in the conception, design, manufacturing, distribution, and integration of computers in applications ranging from trivial data management to sophisticated simulations. the effort is, for all practical purposes, global. the brightest minds, from many countries, contribute ideas to new concepts of computation. the design of computers involves a large number of creative professionals from fields as varied as mechanical engineering, chip design, operating systems, telecommunications, ergonomy, interface design, product design, and communication. the scale of the effort is totally different from anything we know of from previous practical experiences. before such a new computer will become the hardware and software that eventually will land on our desks, it is modeled and simulated, and subjected to a vast array of tests that are all the expression of the hypothesis and goals to be synthesized in the new product. some people might have looked at the first personal computers as a scaled- down version of the mainframes of the time. within the pragmatics associated with literacy, this is a very good representation. in the pragmatics we are concerned with, this linear model does not work, and it does not explain how new experiences come about. chances are that the mass-produced machines increasingly present in a great number of households reach a performance well above those mainframes with which the pc might have been compared. representing the underlying structure of the pragmatics of the civilization of illiteracy, the digital becomes a resource, not unlike electricity, and not unlike other resources tapped in the past for increasing the efficiency of human activity. in the years to come, this aspect will dominate the entire effort of the acculturation of the digital. today, as in the industrial age of cars and other machines, the industry still wants to put a computer on every desk. the priority, however, should be to make computation resources, not machines, available to everyone. those still unsure about the internet and the world wide web should understand that what makes them so promising is not the potential for surfing, or its impressive publication capabilities, but the access to the cognitive energy that is transported through networks. bumps and potholes expectations stemming from the civilization of literacy differ in their condition from those of the cognitive age. infinitely more chances open continuously, but the risks associated with them are at least of the same order of magnitude as the changes. walking along a road is less risky than riding a horse, bicycling, or driving a car. flying puts the farthest point from us on the globe within our reach, but the risks involved in flight are also greater. cognitive resources integrated in our endeavors contribute to an efficiency higher than that provided by hydropower, steam engines, and electric energy. with each new step in the direction of their increased participation in our praxis, we take a chance. there is no reason to compare simulations of the most complex and daring projects to successful or failed attempts to build new cities, modify nature, or create artifacts conceived under cognitive assumptions of lesser complexity than that achieved in our time. a failed connection on today's internet, or a major scam on the web, should be expected in these early stages of the pragmatic framework to which they belong. but we should at no moment ignore the fact that cognitive breakdowns are much more than the crash of an operating system or the breakdown of a network application. we learn more about ourselves in the practical experiences of constituting the post-literate languages of science, art, and the humanities than we have learned during the entire history of humankind. these languages-very complex sign systems indeed- integrate knowledge accumulated in a great variety of experiences, as well as genetically inherited and rationally and emotionally based cognitive procedures. changes in the very fabric of the human being involved in these practical experiences are reflected in the increased ability to handle abstraction, refocus from the immediate to the mediated, and enter interhuman commitments that result from the practice of unprecedented means of expression, communication, and signification. during the process, we have reached some of our most critical limitations. knowledge is deeper, but more segmented. to use steiner's words once again, there is a "gap of silence" between many groups of people. our own efficiency made us increasingly vulnerable to drives that recall more of the primitive stages of humankind than all that we believed we accumulated through the humanities. the new means are changing politics and economic activity, but first of all they are changing the nature of human transactions. and they are changing our sense of future. let us not forget big brother, not to be brushed away just because the year has come and gone, but to be understood from a viewpoint orwell could not have had. if the means in question are used to monitor us, too bad. in the emerging structures of human interaction, to exercise control, as done in previous societies, is simply not possible. it is not for the love of the internet that this constitutes a non-regulated domain of human experiences. rather it is because by its nature, the internet cannot be controlled in the same way our driving, drinking, and social behavior are controlled. the opportunity for transparency afforded by systems that replace the domination of literacy is probably too important to be missed or misused. the dynamics of the civilization of illiteracy results from its implicit condition. we can affect some of its parameters, but not its global behavior. for instance, the integration required by parallelism and the massive distribution of tasks cannot take place successfully if the network of interactions is mined by gates, filters, and veils of secrecy, by hierarchic control mechanisms, and by authorization procedures. imagine if a person's arms, eyes, ears, or nostrils had to obtain permission to participate in the self-constitution of the whole human being. individuals in the new pragmatic context are the eyes, arms, brains, and nostrils of the complex human entity involved in an experience that integrates everyone's participation. it is an intense effort, not always as rewarding as we expect it to be, a self-testing endeavor whose complexity escapes individual realization. feedback loops are the visible part of the broader system, but not its essential part. the authenticity of each and every act of our self-making contributes to the integrity of the overall process-our ascertainment through what we do. relative insularity and a definite alienation from the overall of the system's goals-meeting higher demands by higher performance-are part of the picture described. complemented by a sense of empowerment-the ability to self-determine-and a variety of new forms of human interaction, the resulting human pragmatics can be more humane than the pragmatics of the huge factories of industrial society-commuters rushing from home to job to shopping mall, to entertainment. it is not big brother who will be watching. each and every individual is part of the effort, entitled to know everything about it, indeed wanting to know and caring. without transparency that we can influence, the effort will not succeed. we are our own active badge. the record is of interest in order to justify the use of our time and energy, but foremost to learn about those instances when we are less faithful to ourselves than our newly acquired liberty affords. it is much easier to submit to outside authority, as literacy educates us to do. but once self-control and self-evaluation, as feedback mechanisms under our own control become the means of optimization, the burden is shifted from big brother, bureaucracies, and regulations to the individual. it is probably useful at this point to suggest a framework for action in at least some of the basic activities affected by the change brought about in the civilization of illiteracy. the reason for these suggestions is at hand. we know that literate education is not appropriate, but this observation remains a critical remark. what we need is a guide for action. this has to translate into positive attitudes, and into real attempts to meet the challenge of present and shape the future in full awareness of forces at work. the university of doubt literacy-based education, as all other literacy experiences, assumes that people are the same. it presumes that each human being can and must be literate. just as the goal of industry was to turn out standardized products, education assumes the same task through the mold of literacy. diplomas and certificates testify how like the mold the product is. to those who have problems with writing or reading, the labels legasthenic and dyslexic are applied. dyscalculus is the name given to the inability to cope with numbers. the question of why we should expect uniform cognitive structures covering the literate use of language or numbers, but not the use of sounds, colors, shapes, and volume, is never raised. tremendous effort is made to help individuals who simply cannot execute the sequentiality of writing or the meaning of successive numbers. nothing similar is done to address cognitive characteristics of persons inclined to means different from literacy. in order to respond to the needs of the pragmatics of high efficiency leading to the civilization of many literacies, education needs first of all to rediscover the individual, and his or her extensive gamut of cognitive characteristics. i use the word rediscover having in mind incipient forms of education and training, which were more on a one-to- one or one-to-few basis. education also needs to reconsider its expectation of a universal common denominator, based on the industrial model of standardization. rather than taming and sanitizing the minds of students, education has not only to acknowledge differences in aptitudes and interests, but also to stimulate them. every known form of energy is the expression of difference and not the result of leveling. during this process of re-evaluation, the goals of education will have to be redefined, methods of education rethought, and content reassessed. a new philosophy, embodied in a dynamic notion of education, has to crystallize as we work towards educational alternatives that integrate the visual, the kinetic, the aural, and the synesthetic. in the spirit of the pragmatic context, education ought to become an environment for interaction and discovery. time taken with reiterations of the past deserves to be committed to inferences for the present, and, to the extent possible, for the future. some of the suggestions to be made in the coming lines might sound utopian or have the ring of techno-babble. their purpose is to present possibilities, not to conjure up miraculous solutions. the path from present to future is the path of human practical experiences of self-constitution. to achieve goals corresponding to the requirements and expectations of the civilization of no dominant literacy, education needs to give up the reductionist perspective that has marked it since generalized education became the norm. education has to recognize its students as the individuals they are, not as some abstract or theoretic entity. basic education should be centered around the major forms of expression and communication: language, visual, aural, kinetic, and symbolic. differences among these systems need to be explored as students familiarize themselves with each of them, as well as combinations. concrete forms of acculturation should be geared towards using these elements, not dispensing instructions and assigning exercises. each student will discover from within how to apply these systems. most important, students will share their experiences among themselves. there will be no right or wrong answer that is not proven so by the pragmatic instance. fundamental to the educational endeavor is the process of heuristic inquiry, to be expressed through programs for further investigation. these programs require many languages: literate inquiry, mathematics, chemistry, computation, and so on. by virtue of the fact that people from different backgrounds enter the process, they bear the experience of their respective languages. relevance to the problem at hand will justify one approach or another. frequently, the wheel will be re-invented. other times, new wheels will emerge as contributions of authentic ingenuity and inventiveness. in their interaction, those involved in the process share in the experience through which they constitute themselves at many levels. one is to provide access to the variety of perspectives reflecting the variety of people. interactive learning education has to become a living process. it should involve access to all kinds of information sources, not only to those stored in literate formats. these resources have their specific epistemological condition-a printed encyclopedia is different from a database. to access a book is different from accessing a multimedia knowledge platform. retrieval is part of the practice of knowledge and defines a horizon for human interaction. all these differences will become clear through use, not through mere assertion or imitation. the goal of education cannot be the dissemination of imitative behavior, but of procedures. in this model of education, classes are groups of people pursuing connected goals, not compartments based on age or subject, even less bureaucratic units. a class is an expression of interest, not the product of statistical distribution based on birth and zoning. the physical environment of the class is the world, and not the brick and mortar confined room of stereotyped roles and interactions. this might sound hollow, or too grandiose, but the means to make this happen are progressively becoming available. here is one possible scenario: students approach centers of interactive education after the initial phase of acculturation. perhaps the word center recalls one of the characteristics of the civilization of illiteracy. by their own nature, though, these centers are distributed repositories of knowledge stored in a variety of forms- databases, programs pertinent to various human practical experiences, examples, and evaluation procedures. with such a condition, such centers lend themselves to making refreshable knowledge available in all imaginable formats. on request, its own programs (known as intelligent agents) search for appropriate sources through the guidance of those in need, independent of them, or parallel to them. requests are articulated in voice command: "i would like to know ...." or the requests can be handwritten, typed, or diagrammed. such interactive education centers are simultaneously libraries of knowledge, heuristic environments, laboratories, testing grounds, and research media. the hybrid human-machine machine that constitutes their nucleus alters as the individual involved in the interaction changes. as we all know, the best way to learn is to teach. students should be able to teach their neural network partners subjects of interest to their own practical experiences. in many cases, the neural networks, themselves networked with others, will become partners in pursuing practical goals of higher and higher complexity. the fact that students interact not based on their address and school district, not based on homogeneity criteria of age or cultural background, but on shared interests and different perspectives gives this type of education a broader social significance: there is nothing we do that does not affect the world in its entirety. repeating these words ad nauseam will not affect the understanding of what this means, as one practical endeavor of global consequential nature can. in the model suggested, interests are identified and pursued, and results are compared. questions are widely circulated. what students appropriate in the process are ways of thinking, procedures for testing hypotheses, and means and methods for ascertaining progress in the process. professional educators, aware of cognitive processes and freed from the burden of administrative work, no longer rehash the past but design interactive environments for students to learn in. teachers involve themselves in this interaction, and continue to evolve as knowledge itself evolves. instead of inculcating the discipline of one dominant language, they leave open choices for short and long-term commitments, their own included. not having to force themselves to think in an imposed language, students are freed from the constraints of assigned tasks. they are challenged by the responsibility to make their own choices and carry them through. in the process, differences among students will become apparent, but so will the ability to understand how being different, in a context of cooperative interactions, is an asset and not a liability. motivation is seeded in the satisfaction of discovery and the ability to easily integrate in a framework of practical experiences that are no longer mimicked in education, but practiced in discovery. footing the bill instead of an education financed by the always controversial redistribution of social resources, interactive learning will be supported by its real beneficiaries. that a biogenetics company, for instance, can do this better than an organization engaged in bureaucratic self-perpetuation is a fair assumption. freed from the costs associated with buildings and high administrative overhead, education should take place in the environment of interactions characteristic of the pragmatic framework. as extensions of industries and services, of institutions and individual operations, education would cease to be training for a hypothetical employer. like the practical experience for which it is constituted, education points to the precise reward and fulfillment, not to vague ideals that prove hollow after the student has paid tens of thousands of dollars to learn them. vested in the benefits of a company whose potential depends on their future performance, students can be better motivated. will business cooperate? as things stand now, business is in the paradoxical situation of criticizing the inadequacies of an education that has many of the same characteristics as outmoded ways of doing business. once students reach a level of confidence that entitles them to attempt to continue on their own or to associate with the company, the alumni of such educational experiences have better control over their destinies and can follow the cognitive path of their choosing. there will be analytically oriented and synthetically oriented individuals, many embracing the experience of articulating hypotheses and testing them. some will follow cognitive inclinations to induction, to making observations and drawing generalizations. others will follow the path of deduction, noticing general patterns and seeing how they apply in concrete cases. others will follow abductions, i.e., applying knowledge about a representative sample in order to infer for a broader collection of facts or processes. no cognitive path should be forbidden or excluded, as long as human integrity, in all aspects, is maintained and human interaction supported in the many possible forms it can assume. motivation reflected in integrity is the element that will bring individual direction into focus. as it is practiced today, education cultivates motivations that exclude integrity and the development of skills appropriate to understanding that you can cheat your teacher but not yourself without affecting the outcome. in the current system of education, integrity appears as something incidental to the experience. collaboration on a project of common interest introduces elements of reciprocal responsibility in respect to the outcome. since outcome affects everyone's future, education is no longer a matter of grades, but of successful collaboration in pursuing a goal. in order to accomplish these goals-obviously in a greater number of manifestations than the ones just described-we need to free education from its many inherited assumptions. progress can no longer be understood as exclusively linear. neither can we continue to apply a deterministic sequence of cause and effect in domains of non-deterministic interdependencies, characteristic of distributed cooperative efforts. neither hierarchy nor dualism can be cultivated in the educational environment because the dynamics of association and interaction is based on patterns of changing roles within a universe focused on optimal parameters, not threatened by the radical disjunction of success vs. failure. complexity must be acknowledged, not done away with through methods that worked in the industrial age but which fail in the new pragmatic context. unless and until one discovers through practical experience the need for a different viewpoint, for values outside the immediate object of interest, nothing should be imposed on the individual. shakespeare and boole are neither loved, nor understood, nor respected more by those who were forced to learn how to spell their names, learn dates by heart, or learn titles of works, fragments of plays or logical rules. the very presence of art and science, sport and entertainment, politics and religion, ethics and the legal system in educational forms of interactive media, books, artworks, databases, and programs for human interaction opens the possibility for discoveries. as serious as all these matters are, no education will ever succeed without making its students happy, without satisfaction. in each instance of education, good or bad, the human being, as a natural entity, is broken in. tension will always be part of education, but instead of rewarding those more adept at acculturation, education should integrate complementary moments. no, i do not advocate interactive study from the beach or from a remote mountain ski resort; and i am not for extending human integration in the world of practical experiences around the clock. but as education frees itself from the industrial model-factory-like buildings, classes that correspond to shifts, holidays and vacation time-it should also let students make choices that are closer to their natural rhythms. instead of physical co-presence, there should be interactive and cooperative creativity that does not exclude the playful, the natural, and the accidental. if all this sounds too far-fetched to bring about, that is because it is. even if the computer giants of the world were to open interactive learning centers tomorrow, it would be to little avail. students will bring with them attitudes rooted in traditional expectations. there is more consensus in our world for what is right with the current system of education than for what can or should be done to change it. but with each nucleus of self-organization, such as on-line classes on subjects pertinent to working on the network, seeds are sown for future development. in our time, when the need for qualified people surges in one field or another-computational genetics, nanotechnology, non-linear electronic publishing-the model i presented is the answer. waiting for the educational system to process students and to deliver them, at no cost to the corporations that will employ them, is no longer an acceptable strategy. instead of endowing university chairs dedicated to the study of the no longer meaningful, corporations should invest in training and post-academic life-long learning. to preach that in order to be a good architect one has to know history and biology and mathematics, and to know who vitruvius was, equals preaching the rules of literacy in a world that effectively does not need them. to create an environment for the revelation of such a need, if indeed it is acknowledged as humans discover new ways to deal with their questions, is a very different task. how much reading, how much writing, mathematics, drawing, foreign language, or chemistry an architect needs is the wrong question. it assumes that someone knows, well in advance of the changing pragmatic context, what is the right mixture and how future human practical experiences will unfold. the ingredients change, the proportions change, and the context changes first of all. as opposed to the current hierarchy, which proclaims drawing or singing as extraneous but orthography and reading as necessary, education needs to finally acknowledge complementarity. it has to encourage self-definition in and through skills best suited to practical experiences of self-constitution in a world that has escaped the cycle of repetition, and pursues goals unrelated to previous experiences. instead of doing away with or rationalizing intuition, or being suspicious of irrationality, education will have to allow the individual to pursue a search path that integrates them. students should be able to define goals where intuition, and even irrationality and the subconscious, are applicable. they should be freed from the constraints and limitations of the paradigm of problem solving, and engaged in generating alternatives. a wake-up call all this relies heavily on the maturity of the student and the ability of educators to design environments that stimulate responsibility and self-discipline. the broad-stroke educational project sketched up to here will have to address the precise concerns connected to how and when education actually starts, what the role of the family should be-if the family remains a valid entity-and how variety and multiplicity will be addressed. in today's words and expectations, even in today's prejudices, education is of national interest in one main respect: to equip students with skills so they can contribute to the national coffers in the future. but the arena of economic viability is the global economy, not an economy defined by national boundaries. the trans-national marketplace is the real arena of competition. re-engineering, far from being finished, made it quite clear that for the sake of efficiency, productive activities are relocated without any consideration for patriotism or national pride, never mind human solidarity and ethics. in today's world, and to some extent in the model described so far, the unfolding of the individual through cultivation of the mind and spirit is somehow lost in the process of inculcating facts. it is its own reward to enjoy subtleties, or to generate them, to partake in art, or be part of it, to challenge the mind, or indulge in the rich world of emotions. prepared for work that is usually different from what educators, economists, and politicians anticipate, people face the reality of work that becomes more and more fragmented and mediated. on the assembly line, or in the "analysis of symbols" (to use robert reich's term), work is, in the final analysis, a job, not a vocation. physicians, professors, businessmen, carpenters, and burger flippers perform a job that can be automated to some degree. depriving work of its highest but often neglected motivation-the unfolding of individual abilities, becoming an identity in the act- negates this motivation. replaced by external rationale-the substance of commercial democracy-the decline of inner motivation leads to lack of interest, reduced commitment, and declining creativity. education that processes humans for jobs promises access to abundance, but not to self-fulfillment. the decline of family, and new patterns of sexuality and reproduction, tell us that expectations, sublime on their own merit, of improved family involvement will be the exception, not the rule. accordingly, the challenge is to understand the nature of change and to suggest alternatives, instead of hoping that, miraculously or by divine intervention of the almighty dollar (or yen, franc, mark, pound, or combinations thereof), families will again become what literacy intended they should be. if the challenge is not faced, education will only become a better machine for processing each new generation. many scholars of education have set forth various plans for saving education. they do not ignore the new pragmatic requirements. they are unaware of them. therefore, their recommendations can be classified as more of the same. the sense of globality will not result from taking rhymes from mother goose (with its implicit reference and culturally determined rhythm) and adding to them the mother goose of other countries. the victorian and post-victorian vision transferred upon children, the expectation of "everything will be fine if you just do as you're told," reflects past ideals handed down through the moralizing fiction of the industrial age. the most ubiquitous presence in modern society is the television set. it replaced the book long ago. notwithstanding, tv is a passive medium, of low informative impact, but of high informative ability. digital television, which extends the presence of computers, will make a difference, whether it is implemented in high resolution or not. television in digitally scalable formats is an active medium, and interactivity is its characteristic. education centers will integrate digital television, and open ways to involve individuals regardless of age, background and interests. we can all learn that there are several ways of seeing things, that the physics of time and music report on different aspects of temporal characteristics of our experience in the world. the movement of a robot, though different from the elegant dance of a ballerina, can benefit from a sense and experience of choreography, considered by many incompatible with engineering. the new media of interaction that are embodied in educational centers should be less obsessed with conveying information, and more with allowing human understanding of instances of change. but these are only examples. what i have in mind is the creation of an environment for exploration in which knowledge of aesthetic aspects is learned parallel to scientific knowledge. the formats are not those of classes in the theory or history of art, or of similar art oriented subjects. as exploration takes place, aesthetic considerations are pursued as a means of optimizing the effort. it is quite clear that as classes dynamically take shape, they will integrate people of different ages and different backgrounds. taking place in the public domain of networked resources, this education will benefit from a sense of creative competition. at each moment in time, projects will be accessible, and feedback can be provided. this ensures not only high performance from a scientific or technological viewpoint, but also aesthetic relevance. the literacy-based educational establishment will probably dismiss the proposals set forth as pie-in-the-sky, as futuristic at best. its representatives will claim that the problem at hand needs solutions, not a futuristic model based on some illusory self- organizing nuclei supported by the economy. they will argue that the suggested model of education is less credible than perfecting a practice that at least has some history and achievements to report. the public, no matter how critical of education, will ask: is it permissible, indeed responsible, to assume that a new philosophy of education will generate new student attitudes, especially in view of the reality of metal detectors installed in schools to prevent students from carrying weapons? is it credible to describe experiences in discovery involving high aesthetic quality, while mediocrity makes the school system appear hopelessly damned? self-motivation is described as though teenage pregnancy and classes where students bring their babies are the concern of underpaid teachers but not of visionaries. more questions in the same vein are in the air. to propose an analogy, selling water in the desert is not as simple as it sounds. we can, indeed, dream of educational tools hooked up to the terminals at the kennedy space center, or to the supercomputers of the european center for research of the future. we can dream of using digital television for exploring the unknown, and of on-line education in a world where everyone envisions high accomplishments through the use of resources that until now were open to very few. but unless society gives up the expectation of a homogeneous, obligatory education that forces individuals who want-or do not want-to prepare themselves for a life of practical experiences into the same mold, education will not produce the desired results. good intentions, based on social, ethnic, or racial criteria, on love of children, and humanistic ideals, will not help either. while all over the world real spending per student in public education and private institutions increased well above the levels of inflation, fewer students do homework, and very few study beyond the daily assignment. this is true not only in the usa but also in countries with high admission standards for college, such as france, germany, and japan. translated into the language of our considerations, all this means that education cannot be changed independent of change in society. education is not an autonomous system. its connections to the rest of the pragmatic context are through students, teachers, parents, political institutions, economic realities, racial attitudes, culture, and patterns of behavior in our commercial democracy. in today's education, parochial considerations take precedence over global concerns. bureaucratic rules of accumulated imbecility literally annihilate the changes for a better future of millions of students. what appears as the cultivation of the mind and spirit is actually no more than the attempt to polish a store window while the store itself lost its usefulness long ago. it makes no sense to require millions of students to drive daily to schools that can no longer be maintained, or to pass tests when standards are continuously lowered in order to somehow justify them. consumption and interaction in view of the fundamental changes in patterns of human activity, not only students need education, but practically everyone, and probably educators first of all. connection to education centers needs to be different from the expectation of children sitting in a class dominated by a teacher. on the interactive education networks, age no longer serves as a criterion. learning is self-paced, motivated by individual interests and priorities and by the perspectives that learning opens. a sense of common interest is expressed through interaction, unfolding through a diversity of perspectives and ways of thinking and doing. nothing can help generations that are more different and more antagonistic than ours to find a common ground than an experience of education emancipated from hierarchies, freed of authoritarian expectations, challenging and engaging at the same time. education will be part of the continuous self-definition of the human being throughout one's entire life. whether we like it or not, the economy is driven by consumer spending. this does not automatically mean that we can or should let the feedback loop follow a course that will eventually lead to losing the stability of the system to which we belong. if consumption were to remain the driving force, however, we would all end up enjoying ourselves to death. but the solution to this state of affairs is not to be found in political or educational sermonizing. to blame consumption, expectations of abundance, or entertainment will not help in finding answers to educational worries. education will have to integrate the human experience of consumption and facilitate the acquisition of common sense. a sense of quality can be instilled by pursuing cooperative projects involving not only the production of artifacts, but also self-improvement. generations that grow up with television as their window to reality cannot be blamed for lack of interest in reading, or for viewing reality as a show interrupted by thirty-second messages. young minds acquire different skills, and education ought to provide a context for their integration in captivating practical experiences, instead of trying to neutralize them. television is here for good, although changes that will alter the relation between viewers and originators of messages will change television as well. the cognitive characteristics and motor patterns of couch potatoes and moderate viewers in the age of generalized tv and interactive networking are very different from those of people educated as literate. these characteristics will be further reshaped as digital television becomes part of the networked world. where reading about history, or another country, is marginally relevant to praxis in the new context of life and work, the ability to view, understand images, perceive and effect changes, and the ability to edit them and reuse, to complete them, moreover to generate one's own images, is essential to the outcome of the effort. without engaging the student, education heads into oblivion. as difficult as it is to realize that there are no absolute values, unless this realization is shared by all generations, we will face more inter- generational conflicts than we already face. television is not the panacea for such conflicts, but a broad ground for reaching reciprocal awareness of what it takes to meet an increasingly critical challenge. sure, we are focused here on a television that transcended its mass communication industrial society status, and reached the condition of individual interaction. understanding differences cannot be limited to education, or reduced to a generalized practice of viewing tv (digital or not). it has to effectively become the substance of political life. while all are equal with respect to the law, while all are free and encouraged to become the best they can be, society has to effectively abandon expectations of homogeneity and uniformity, and to dedicate energies to enhancing the significance of what makes its members different. this translates into an education freed from expectations that are not rooted in the process of self-affirmation as scientists, dancers, thinkers, skilled workers, farmers, sportspeople, and many other pragmatically sanctioned professionals. the direction is clear: to become less obsessed with a job, and more concerned with a work that satisfies them, and thus their friends and relatives. the means and methods for moving in this direction will not be disbursed by states or other organizations. we have to discover them, test, and refine, aware of the fact that what replaces the institution of education is the open-ended process through which we emerge as educated individuals. does education henceforth become a generic trade school? for those who so choose, yes. for others, it will become what they themselves make of it through their involvement. remaining an open enterprise, education will allow as many adjustments as each individual is willing to take upon oneself for the length of one's life. the education of interactive skills, of visualization technologies, of methods of search and retrieval, of thinking in images, sounds, colors, odors, textures, and haptic perception requires contexts for their discovery, use, and evaluation which no school or university in the world can provide. but if all available educational resources are used to establish learning centers based on the paradigms of interactivity, data processing, multimedia, virtual reality, neural networks, and genetic engineering, using powerful carriers such as digital tv or high-speed and broadband networks, we will stop managing a bankrupt enterprise and open avenues for successful alternatives. as humanity ages, and societies have to cope with a new age structure, education will have to focus also on how to constitute one's identity past the biological optimum. among the fastest growing segments on the internet, the elderly represent a very distinct group, of high motivation, and of abilities that can better benefit society. access to knowledge in the form of interactive projects, pursued by classes constituted of individuals as different as the world is, is not trivial, and obviously not cheap. the networked world, the many challenges of new means of communication already in place, the new medium of digital tv-closer to reality than many realize- and computers, are already widely available. a major effort to provide support to many who are not yet connected to this world, at the expense of the current bureaucracy of education, will provide the rest. instead of investing in buildings, bureaucracies, norms, and regulations, instead of rebuilding crumbling schools, and recycling teachers who intellectually died long ago in the absence of any real challenge, we can, and should, design a global education system. such a system will effect change not only in one country, not only in a group of rich countries, but all over the world. the practice of networking and the competence in integrating work produced independently in functional modules can be attained by tackling real problems, as these are encountered by each person, not invented assignments by teachers or writers of manuals. education can succeed or fail only on the terms of efficiency expected in our pragmatic framework. scores, religiously accounted for in literacy-based political life, are irrelevant. practical experiences of self-constitution are not multiple-choice examinations. they involve the person in his entirety, and result in instances of personal growth and increased social awareness. a global world requires a live global system of education that embodies the best we can afford, and is driven by the immense energy of variety. unexpected opportunities we have heard the declaration over and over: this is the age of knowledge. the statement describes a context of human practical experiences in which the major resources are cognitive in nature. in the civilization of literacy, knowledge acquisition could take place at a slow pace, over long periods of time. the interlocking factors that defined the pragmatic context were such that no other gnoseological pattern was possible. knowledge arising from practical experiences of industrial society progressively contributed to making life easier for human beings. eventually, everything that had been done through the power of human muscle and dexterity-using mainly hands, arms, and legs-was assigned to machines and executed using energy resources found in the environment. cognition supported the incremental evolution of machines through a vast array of applications. human knowledge allowed for the efficient use of energy to move machines which executed tasks that might have taken tens, even hundreds of men to perform. to make this more clear, let us compare some of the tasks of the machine age with those of the age of cognition we live in. within industrial pragmatics, the machine supplanted the muscle and the limited mechanical skills needed for processing raw materials, manufacturing cars, washing clothes, or typing. discoveries of more sources of coal, gas, and oil kept the machine working and led to its extension from the factory to the home. literacy, embodying characteristics of industrial pragmatics, kept pace with the demands and possibilities of the machine age. in our age, computer programs supplant our thinking and the limited knowledge involved in supervising complex production and assembly lines that process raw materials or synthesize new material. computer programs are behind the manufacture of automobiles; they integrate household functions-heating, washing clothes, preparing meals, guarding our homes. publishing on the world wide web relies on computers. the scale of all these efforts is global. many languages, bearing the data needed by each specific sub-task, go into the final product or outcome. older dependencies on natural resources and on a social model shaped to optimally support industrial praxis are partially overcome as the focus changes from permanence to transitory communities of interest and to the individual- the locus of the cognitive age. cognitive resources arise from experiences qualitatively different from those of the machine age. digital engines do not burn coal or gas. digital engines burn cognition. the source of cognition lies in the mind of each human being. the resources of the machine age are being slowly depleted. alternative resources will be found in what was typically discarded. recycling and the discovery of processes that extract more from what is available depend more on human cognition than on brute force processing methods. the sources of cognition are, in principle, unlimited. but if the cognitive component of human practical experiences were to stagnate or break down for some unimaginable reason, the pragmatics based on the underlying digital process of the age of cognition would break down. to understand this, one need only think of being stuck in a car on an untravelled road, all because the gasoline ran out. compare this situation with what would happen if the most complex machine, more complicated than anything science fiction could describe, came to a halt because there was no human thought to keep it going. in the current context, the dynamics of cognition, distributed between processing information and acquiring and disseminating knowledge, stands for the dynamics of the entire system of our existence. embodied in technologies and processing procedures, cognition contributes to the fundamental separation of the individual human from the productive task, and from a wide variety of non-productive activities. it is not necessary that an individual possess all knowledge that a pragmatic experience requires. this means, simply, that operators in nuclear power plants need not be eminent physicists or mathematicians. neither do all workers in a space research program need to be rocket scientists. a programmer might be ignorant of how a disk drive works. a brain surgeon does not know how the tools he or she uses are made. each facet of a pragmatic instance entails specific requirements. the whole pragmatic experience requires knowledge above and beyond what the individuals directly involved can or should master. instead of limited knowledge uniformly dispensed through literate methods, knowledge is distributed and embodied in tools and methods, not in persons. the advantage is that programs and procedures are made uniform, not human beings. for example, data management does not substitute for advanced knowledge, but a data management system as such can be endowed with knowledge in the form of routines, procedures, operation schemes, management, and self-evaluation. just as everyone kept the mechanical engine going, everyone, layperson or expert, contributes to the functioning of the digital engine. the only source of cognition that we can count on is within people self-constituted through practical experiences involving the digital. this does not mean that everyone will become a thinker and everyone will produce knowledge. two sources of knowledge are relevant in the age of cognition within which the civilization of illiteracy unfolds. one source is the advanced work of experts and researchers, in areas of higher abstraction, way beyond what literacy can handle. the other, much more critical, source is to be found in common- sense human interaction, in day-to-day human experience. we know that the knowledge of experts will continue to be integrated in the pragmatics of this age. the specific motivations of human practical experiences resulting in knowledge have to be recognized and stimulated. and we must also be aware of circumstances that could have a negative effect on these experiences. we know less about the second source of knowledge because in previous pragmatic contexts it was less critical, and widely ignored. in particular, we do not know how to tap into the infinite reservoir of cognitive resources that are manifested through the routine work and everyday life of the overwhelming portion of the world's population. taken individually, each person can contribute cognitive resources to the broader dynamics of the world. but these individual contributions are random, difficult to identify, and do not necessarily justify the effort of mining them. in our lives, many decisions and choices are made on the basis of extremely powerful procedures of which we, as individuals, are almost never aware. there is a grain of genius in some of the most mundane ways of doing things. here the nodal points of integration in the multi-dimensional array that constitutes the globality of humankind are what counts. delving into the dynamic collective persona makes such an effort worthwhile. years ago, in a dialogue with a prominent researcher in education, who used to maintain interactive simulations for youngsters who logged in at his institute, i discussed the then fashionable game of life (developed by john horton conway). as an open-ended simulation of the rules of birth and death, and based on the theory of cellular automata, the game required quite a bit of thinking. there is no winner or loser in the game of life. although the rules of the game are relatively simple, highly complex forms of artificial life arise on the matrix: a cell going from empty to full describes birth, from full to empty, death. satisfaction in playing is derived from reaching complex forms of life. the idea we discussed was to make the game widely available on the network. the hundreds of thousands of players would leave traces of cognitive decisions that, over time, would add up to an expression of the intelligence of the collective body who shared an interest in the game. the cognitive sum total is of a gestalt nature-much higher than the sum of its parts. that is, the sum has a different qualitative condition, probably comparable to that of the experts and geniuses, or even much higher! considering all the instances of human application to tasks that range from being frankly useless to highly productive, one can surmise that the second source of knowledge and intelligence is much more interesting than that of the dedicated thinkers. there is more to what we do and how we choose than rationality and thinking, never mind literate rationality. this collective persona need not comprise the entire population of the world (minus the knowledge professionals). it would help to start with groups formed ad hoc, groups which share an interest in a certain activity, such as playing games, or surfing for a particular piece of information, from the trivial "how do i get from here to there?" to whatever people are looking for-football scores, pornography, crossword puzzles, recipes, investment information, support in facing a certain problem, love, inter- generational conflicts, religion-anything. the challenge comes in capturing the cognitive resources at work, making inferences from the small or vast collective bodies of common focus, and coming up with viable procedures that can be utilized to enhance individual performance-all this without shaping future individual performance into grotesque repetitive patterns, no matter how successful they might be. if there is validity to the notion that we are in the age of knowledge, we cannot afford to limit ourselves to the knowledge of a few, no matter how exceptional these few are. the civilization of illiteracy transcends the literate model of individual performance considered a guarantee of the performance of society at large. as practical experiences become more complex, breakdowns can be avoided only at the expense of more cognitive resources. we know that it took millennia before primitive notation progressed to writing and then to generalized literacy. in the age of cognition, we cannot afford such a long cycle for integrating human cognitive resources. marvin minsky once pointed out how much mind activity is lost in the leisure of watching football games on tv. while relaxation is essential to human existence, nobody can claim, in good faith, that what has resulted from the enormously increased efficiency of cognition-based practical experiences is not wasted to a great extent. short of giving up, one has to entertain alternatives. but alternatives to this situation cannot be legislated. it is clear that within the motivations of the global economy, the need to identify and tap more sources of cognition will result in ways to stimulate human interaction. watching tv probably generates thoughts that only die on the ever larger screens in our homes. surfing the web, where millions of hits are counted on the pornography sites-not on mathematics or literature sites-is also a waste and a source of mediocrity. mouse potatoes are not necessarily better than the couch variety. if we could derive cognition even from the many experiences of human self- constitution in computer games, we could not only further the success of the industry that changed the way humans play, but gain some insight into motivations, cognitive and emotional aspects of this elementary form of human identity. above and beyond the speculation on playful man (homo ludens), there are quantifiable aspects of competition, satisfaction, and pleasure. and as the internet effectively maps our journey through a maze of data, information, and sources of knowledge, we can ask whether such cognitive maps are not too valuable to be abandoned to marketing experts, instead being utilized for understanding what makes us tick as we search for a word, an image, an experience. data regarding how and what we buy is not always representative of what we are. for many people, buying a book or a work of art, a fashionable shirt, a home, or a car is only an experience in mediation performed by the agents of these objects. but there are authentic experiences in which no one can replace us human beings. games belong to this domain, and so do joking and interactions with friends. no agent can replace us. within such authentic moments of self-constitution, cognitive resources of exceptional value are at work. many people from very different locations and of different backgrounds might simultaneously be present on a certain web site, without ever knowing it. the server's performance could suggest that there is quite a crowd at a web site, but it cannot say who the others are, what they are looking for, what kind of cognition drives the digital engine of their particular experiences. while the medium of networking is more transparent than literacy experiences, it still maintains a certain opaqueness, enhanced by the firewalls meant to protect us from ourselves. many individuals present at the same time on a web site is not a situation one can duplicate in literacy, in which the ratio was one reader to one book, or one magazine, or even one videotape (although more than one can watch it on the family tv set, in a class, or on an airplane). thousands of viewers simultaneously landing on a web site is a chance and a challenge. we should accordingly think of methods for identifying ourselves, to the extent desired, and declare willingness to interact. this next level of self-constitution and identification is where the potential of rich interactions and further generation of cognition becomes possible. tapping into cognitive resources in such situations is an opportunity we should not postpone. burning cognition, digital engines allow us to reach efficiency that is higher by many orders of magnitude in comparison to the efficiency attained by engines burning coal and oil. but the experience introduces the pressure of accelerated accumulation of data, information processing, and knowledge utilization. to understand the intimate relation between the performance of the digital engine and our own performance, one has only to think of a coal-burning steam engine driving a locomotive uphill. the civilization of illiteracy is a rather steep ascent, facing many obstacles-our physical abilities, limited natural resources, ecological concerns, ability to handle social complexity. to pull the brake will only make the effort of the engine more difficult, unless we want to tumble downhill, head first. feeding the furnace faster is the answer that every sensible engineer knows. this would sound like a curse, were it not for the excitement of discovery, including that of our own cognitive resources. analogy aside, what drives the digital engine is not abstract computing cycles of faster chips, but human cognition embodied in experiences that support further diversification of experiences. it has yet to be the case that we had enough computing cycles to burn and we did not know what to do with the extra computing power available. on the contrary, human practical experiences are always ahead of technology, as we challenge ourselves with new tasks for which the chips of yesterday and the memory available are as inappropriate as the methods and means of literacy. bio-electric signals associated with the activity of our minds have been measured for quite a number of years. we learned from such measurements that minds are constituted in anticipation of our practical experience of self-identification as human beings. the idea seemed far-fetched, despite the strong scientific evidence on which it was ultimately founded. cognition is process, and bio-electric signals are indicative of cognitive processes in our minds. sensors attached to the skin, such as through a simple finger glove, can read such signals. in effect, they read unfolding mind processes based on our cognitive resources. feeding digital engines hungry to burn cognition, we arrive not only at mind-controlled prosthetic devices for people with disabilities, but also at a mind-driven painter's brush, or desktop film directing, allowing us to get involved with cinematographic projects of scripting and affecting variations of the plot. from pinball games to tennis and skiing, from virtual bowling to virtual football, our thoughts make new experiences possible. for those affected by disabilities, this is a qualitatively new horizon. einstein, but many others as well, was quite convinced that only percent of our cognitive abilities are effectively engaged in what we do. as the digital engine burns more and more cognition, this number will change, as probably our physical condition, already marked by forms of degeneration, will change too. if, by using only one-tenth of our cognitive resources, we reach the level of possibilities open to us, it is not too hard to imagine what only one more tenth might bring. the civilization of illiteracy, with all the dangers and inequities it has to address, is only at its beginning. that its duration will be shorter than the one preceding it is another subject. - : providence ri; rochester ny; bexley oh; new york ny; little compton ri; wuppertal, germany. *** literacy in a changing world during the writing of this book, several articles were published and lectures presented on themes pertinent to the subject. none was taken over in this work. among these are: j. deely and m. lenhard, editors. the civilization of illiteracy, in semiotics . new york: plenum, . h. stachowiak, editor. pragmatics in the semiotic framework, in pragmatik, vol. ii. hamburg: felix meiner verlag, . la civilization de l'analphabetisme, in gazette de beaux-arts, vol. iii, no. , march , pp. - . writing is rewriting, in the american journal of semiotics, vol. , no. , , pp. - . sign and value. (lecture)third congress of the international association of semiotic studies, palermo, italy, june - , . the civilization of illiteracy. (lecture) sixth annual meeting of the semiotic society of america, vanderbilt university, nashville, october - , . philosophy in the civilization of illiteracy. (lecture) xvii world congress of philosophy, montreal, august, . values in the post-modern era: the civilization of illiteracy. (lecture) institute forum, rochester institute of technology, november , . a case for the hacker. (lecture) university of oregon, oct. , . communication in a time of integration and awareness. (lecture) new york university, april, . de plus ça change... creativity in the context of scientific and technological change. (lecture) university of michigan, january, . the bearable impertinence of rationality. (lecture) multimediale, the st international festival of multimedia, february, . from a very broad literature on literacy, including the emergence of writing and early written documents, the following proved useful in defining the position stated in this book: john hladczuk, william eller, and sharon hladczuk. literacy/illiteracy in the world. a bibliography. new york: greenwood press, . david r. olson, nancy torrance, and angela hildyard, editors. literacy, language, and learning: the nature and consequences of reading and writing. new york: cambridge university press, . robert pattison. on literacy: the politics of the word from homer to the age of rock. new york: oxford university press, . gerd baumann, editor. the written word: literacy in transition. new york: oxford university press, . national advisory council on adult education. literacy committee. illiteracy in america: extent, causes and suggested solutions, . susan b. neuman. literacy in the television age. the myth of the tv effect. norwood, nj: ablex, . edward m. jennings and alan c. purves, editors. literate systems and individual lives. perspectives on literacy and schooling. albany: suny press, . harald haarman. universalgeschichte der schrift. frankfurt/main: campus verlag, . david diringer. the alphabet. a key to the history of mankind ( rd edition). new york: funk & wagnalls, . colin h. roberts. the birth of the codex. london: oxford university press, . martin koblo. die entwicklung der schrift. wiesbaden: brandsetter, . r. hooker. reading the past. ancient writing from cuneiform to the alphabet. berkeley: university of california press, . donald jackson. the story of writing. new york: taplinger publishing co., . hannsferdinand dobler. von der keilschrift zum computer. schrift, buch, wissenschaften. munich: bertelsmann, . colin clair. a history of european printing. new york: academic press, . lucien paul victor febre. the coming of the book. the impact of printing - . trans. david gerard. london: n.l.b., . karlen mooradian. the dawn of printing. lexington, ky: association for education in journalism, . warren chappel. a short history of the printed word. new york: knopf, . peter s. bellwood. prehistory in the indo-malaysian archipelago. orlando, fl: academic press, . andrew sherrat, editor. the cambridge encyclopedia of archaeology. new york: crown publishers, . peirce's pragmatic perspective was extracted from his writings. in the absence of a finished text on the subject, various scholars chose what best suited their own viewpoint. a selection from an unusually rich legacy of manuscripts and published articles was made available in the collected papers of charles sanders peirce (eight volumes). volumes - edited by charles hartshorne and paul weiss; volumes - edited by a. burks. cambridge: the belknap press of harvard university press, - . the standard procedure in citing this work is "volume.paragraph" (e.g., . refers to volume , paragraph ). important references to peirce's semiotics are found in his correspondence with victoria, lady welby. this was published by charles hardwick as semiotics and significs. the correspondence between charles s. peirce and victoria lady welby, bloomington and london: indiana university press, . peirce's manuscripts are currently being published in a new edition, the writings of charles s. peirce. a chronological edition (e. moore, founding editor; max a. fisch, general editor; c. kloesel, director), bloomington: indiana university press, -present. peirce's pragmaticism was defined in a text dated , during his return journey from europe aboard a steamer, "...a day or two before reaching plymouth, nothing remaining to be done except to translate it into english," ( . ): "considerer quels sont les effets pratiques que nous pensons pouvoir être produits par l'objet de notre conception. la conception de tous ces effets est la conception complète de l'objet." in respect to peirce, his friends william james and john dewey wrote words of appreciation, placing him "in the forefront of the great seminal minds of recent times," (cf. morris r. cohen, chance, love, and logic, glencoe il: , p. iii). c. j. keyser stated, "that this man, who immeasurably increased the intellectual wealth of the world, was nevertheless almost permitted to starve in what in his time was the richest and vainest of lands is enough to make the blood of any decent american boil with chagrin, indignation, and vicarious shame," (cf. portraits of famous philosophers who were also mathematicians, in scripta mathematica, vol. iii, ). c.p. snow. the two cultures and a second look (an expanded version of the two cultures and the scientific revolution). cambridge: at the university press, (first printed in ). gottfried wilhelm leibniz ( - ). from the few works published during his lifetime, reference is made to dissertatio de arte combinatoria (leipzig, ). g.h. parkinson translated some works in leibniz logical papers (london, ). another edition considered for this book is by gaston grua, leibniz. textes inédits (paris, ), which offers some of the many manuscripts in which important ideas remained hidden for a long time. humberto r. maturana. the neurophysiology of cognition, in cognition: a multiple view (p. garvin, editor). new york: spartan books, . humberto r. maturana and francisco j. varela. el árbol del conocimiento, . the work was translated as the tree of knowledge. the biological roots of human understanding. boston/london: shambala new science library, . terry winograd. understanding natural language. new york: academic press, . -. language as cognitive process. reading ma: addison-wesley, . terry winograd and fernando flores. understanding computers and cognition. a new foundation for design. norwood nj: ablex publishing corporation, . george lakoff and mark johnson. metaphors we live by. chicago: chicago university press, . george lakoff. women, fire, and dangerous things. (what categories reveal about the mind). chicago/london: the university of chicago press, . "the point is that the level of categorization is not independent of who is doing the categorizing and on what basis" (p. ). with his seminal work on fuzzy sets, lotfi zadeh opened a new perspective relevant not only to technological progress, but also to a new philosophic perspective. fuzzy sets, in information and control, ( ), pp. - . fuzzy logic and approximate reasoning (in memory of grigore moisil), in synthèse ( ), pp. - . coping with the impression of the real world, in communications of the association for computing machinery, ( ), pp. - . george steiner. language and silence. new york: atheneum, . -. after babel. aspects of language and translation. london: oxford university press, . -. real presence: is there anything in what we say? london/boston: faber & faber, . -. the end of bookishness? in the times literary supplement, july - , , p. . marshall mcluhan. the gutenberg galaxy: the making of typographic man. toronto: toronto university press, . ivan illich. deschooling society. new york: harper & row, . illich states bluntly: "universal education through schooling is not feasible" (introduction, p. ix). ivan illich and barry sanders. the alphabetization of the popular mind. san francisco: north point press, . y. m. lotman. kul'tura kak kollektvinji intellekt i problemy iskusstuennovo razuma (culture as collective intellect and problems of artificial intelligence). predvaritel'naya publicacija, moskva: akademija nauk sssr (nauchinyi soviet po kompleksnoi problemi kibernetika), . jean baudrillard. simulations. trans. paul foss, paul patton, philip beitchman. new york: semiotext(e), . the chasm between yesterday and tomorrow hans magnus enzensberger. mittelmaß und wahn. gesammelte zerstreuungen. frankfurt am main: . norbert wiener. the human use of human beings. cybernetics and society. st ed. new york: avon books, . wiener was very concerned with the consequences of human involvement with machines and the consequences of the unreflecting use of technology. "once before in history the machine had impinged upon human culture with an effect of the greatest moment. this previous impact is known as the industrial revolution, and it concerned the machine purely as an alternative to human muscle" (p. ). "it is fair to say, however, that except for a considerable number of isolated examples, this industrial revolution up to present [ca. ] has displaced man and beast as a source of power, without making any great impression on other human functions" (p. ). wiener goes on to describe a new stage, what he calls the second industrial revolution, dominated by computing machines driving all kinds of industrial processes. he notes: "let us remember that the automatic machine, whatever we think of any feelings it may have or may not have, is the precise economic equivalent of slave labor. any labor which competes with slave labor must accept the economic conditions of slave labor" (p. ). "what can we expect of its economic and social consequences? in the first place, we can expect an abrupt and final cessation of the demand for the type of factory labor performing purely repetitive tasks. in the long run, the deadly uninteresting nature of the repetitive task may make this a good thing and the source of leisure necessary for a man's full cultural development. it may also produce cultural results as trivial and wasteful as the greater part of those so far obtained from the radio and the movies" (p. ). nick thimmesch, editor. aliteracy. people who can read but won't. washington, dc: american enterprise institute for policy research, . proceedings of a conference held on september , in washington, dc. according to william a. baroody, jr., president of the american enterprise institute, the aliterate person scans magazines, reads headlines, "never reads novels or poetry for the pleasures they offer." he goes on to state that aliteracy is more dangerous because it "reflects a change in cultural values and a loss of skills" and "leads to knowing without understanding." marsha levine, a participant in the conference noted that although educators are concerned with universal literacy, many people read less or not at all: "a revolution in technology is having an impact on education...they [technological means] increase the level of literacy, but they might undermine the practice of what they teach." at the same conference, an anonymous participant posed a sequence of questions: "exactly what advantage do reading and literacy hold in terms of helping us to process information? what does reading give us that is of some social advantage that cannot be obtained through other media? is it entirely certain that we cannot have a functioning society with an oral-aural method of communication, where we use television and its still unexploited resources of communication? [...] is it impossible to conceive of a generation that has received its knowledge of the world and itself through television?" (p. ). john searle. the storm over the university, in the new york review of books, : , december , , pp. - . plato. phaedrus, and the seventh and eighth letters. trans. walter hamilton. harmondsworth: penguin press, . in phaedrus, socrates, portrayed by plato, articulates arguments against writing: "it will implant forgetfulness in their souls [of people, m.n.]: they will cease to exercise memory because they rely on that which is written, calling these things to remembrance no longer from within themselves, but by means of external marks; what you have discovered is a recipe [pharmakon, a potion; some translate it as recipe, m.n.] not for memory, but for reminder" ( - e. p. ). (references to plato include the stephanus numbers. this makes them independent of the particular edition used by the reader.) claude lévi-strauss. tristes tropiques. paris: plon, . the author continues socrates' thought: "it [writing] seems to have favored the exploitation of human beings rather than their enlightenment" (p. ). from a very broad literature on literacy, including the emergence of writing and early written documents, the following proved useful in defining the position stated in this book: john hladczuk, william eller, and sharon hladczuk. literacy/illiteracy in the world. a bibliography. new york: greenwood press, . david r. olson, nancy torrance, and angela hildyard, editors. literacy, language, and learning: the nature and consequences of reading and writing. new york: cambridge university press, . robert pattison. on literacy: the politics of the word from homer to the age of rock. new york: oxford university press, . gerd baumann, editor. the written word: literacy in transition. new york: oxford university press, . national advisory council on adult education. literacy committee. illiteracy in america: extent, causes and suggested solutions, . susan b. neuman. literacy in the television age. the myth of the tv effect. norwood, nj: ablex, . edward m. jennings and alan c. purves, editors. literate systems and individual lives. perspectives on literacy and schooling. albany: suny press, . dr. harald haarman. universalgeschichte der schrift. frankfurt/main: campus verlag, . david diringer. the alphabet. a key to the history of mankind. rd edition. new york: funk & wagnalls, . colin h. roberts. the birth of the codex. london: oxford university press, . martin koblo. die entwicklung der schrift. wiesbaden: brandsetter, . donald jackson. the story of writing. new york: taplinger publishing co., . hannsferdinand dobler. von der keilschrift zum computer. schrift, buch, wissenschaften. munich: bertelsmann, . colin clair. a history of european printing. new york: academic press, . lucien paul victor febre. the coming of the book. the impact of printing - . trans. david gerard. london: n.l.b., . karlen mooradian. the dawn of printing. lexington, ky: association for education in journalism, . warren chappel. a short history of the printed word. new york: knopf, . c.p. snow. the two cultures and a second look. an expanded version of the two cultures and the scientific revolution. cambridge: at the university press, . john brockman. the third culture: beyond the scientific revolution. new york: simon & schuster, . a recent criticism of the book, by phillip e. johnson, on the world wide web, states that the scientists contributing to the book "tend to replace the literary intellectuals rather than cooperate with them." alan bloom. the closing of the american mind. new york: simon and schuster, . antoine de st. exupéry. the little prince. trans. katherine woods. new york: harcourt, brace & world, . helmut schmidt, ex-chancellor of west germany, marion gräfin dönhoff, editor-in-chief of die zeit, edzard reuter, ex-ceo of daimler-benz, along with several prominent german intellectuals and politicians, met during the summer of to discuss issues facing their country after reunification. in their manifesto, they insisted that any concept for a sensible future needs to integrate the notion of renouncing (verzicht) and sharing as opposed to growing expectations and their export through economic aid to third world countries. see ein manifest: weil das land sich ändern muß (a manifesto. because the country needs to change), reinbeck: rowohlt verlag, jean-marie guéhenno. la fin de la démocratie. paris: flammarion, . edmund carpenter. they became what they beheld. new york: outerbridge and dienstfrey/ballantine, . nathaniel hawthorne. earth's holocaust, in the complete short stories of nathaniel hawthorne. garden city ny: doubleday & co., . george steiner. the end of bookishness? in times literary supplement, july - , . "to read classically means to own the means of that reading. we are dealing no longer with the medieval chained library or with books held as treasures in certain monastic and princely institutions. the book became a domestic object owned by its user, accessible at his will for re-reading. this access in turn comprised private space, of which the personal libraries of erasmus and of montaigne are emblematic. even more crucial, though difficult to define, was the acquisition of periods of private silence" (p. ). thomas robert malthus. an essay on the principle of population, , in the works of thomas robert malthus. e.a. wrigley and david souden, editors. london: w. pickering, . mark twain (samuel langhorn clemens). the annotated huckleberry finn: the adventures of huckleberry finn. with introduction, notes, and bibliography by michael p. hearn. new york: c.n. potter and crown publishers, . "twain drives home just how strongly we are chained to our own literacy through huck's illiterate silence" (p. ). "thus twain brings into focus the trap of literacy. there is a whole world in huck finn that is closed to those without literacy. they can't, for ironic example, read this marvelous work, the adventures of huckleberry finn. and yet we must recognize a world rich with superstition and folklore, with adventure and beauty, that remains closed to those who are too tightly chained to letters" (p. ). george gilder. life after television: the coming transformation of media and american life. new york: norton, . neil postman. technopoly: the surrender of culture to technology. new york: knopf, . america-the epitome of the civilization of illiteracy john adams. letters from a distinguished american: twelve essays by john adams on american foreign policy, . compiled and edited by james h. hutson. washington, dc: library of congress, . -. the adams-jefferson: the complete correspondence between thomas jefferson and abigail and john adams (lester j. cappon, editor). chapel hill: university of north carolina press, . jean-jacques servan-schreiber. the american challenge. trans. robert steel. with a foreword by arthur schlesinger, jr. new york: atheneum, . neil postman. rising tide of illiteracy in the usa, in the washington post, . "whatever else may be said of the immigrants who settled in new england in the th century, it is a paramount fact that they were dedicated and skillful readers.... it is to be understood that the bible was the central reading matter in all households, for these people were protestants who shared luther's belief that printing was 'god's highest and extremest act of grace, whereby the business of the gospel is driven forward.' but reading for god's sake was not their sole motivation in bringing books into their homes." lauran paine. captain john smith and the jamestown story. london: r. hale, . henry steele commager. the american mind. new haven: yale university press, . charles dickens. american notes. new york: st. martin's press, . the book is a journal of dickens's travels from boston to st. louis, from january through june, . alexis de toqueville. democracy in america, vol. (henry reeve text as revised by francis bowen). new york: vintage books, . several other writers have attempted to characterize the usa, or at least some of its aspects: jean baudrillard. amérique. paris: grasset, . -. america. chris turner, london/new york: verso, . gerald messadie. requiem pour superman. la crise du mythe américain. paris: r. laffont, . rodó, josé enrique. ariel. liberalismo y jacobinismo. buenos aires: ediciones depalma, . in practically all her novels, jane austen extols the improvement of the mind (especially the female mind) through reading; see especially pride and prejudice, vol. , chapter . (new york: the new american library, , p. ). thomas jefferson. autobiography, in writings. new york: the library of america/literary classics of the united states, . jefferson's father placed him in the english school when thomas was five years old, and at age nine in the latin school, where he learned latin, greek, and french until . in , jefferson continued two years of the same program of study with a reverend maury. in , he attended the college of william and mary (for two years), where he was taught by a dr. william small of scotland (a mathematician). his education consisted of ethics, rhetoric, and belles lettres. in , he began to study law. joel spring. the american school - . nd ed. new york/london: longman, . benjamin franklin's model academy embodied his own education. " '...it would be well if [students] could be taught every thing that is useful, and every thing that is ornamental. but art is long, and their time is short. it is therefore propos'd that they learn those things that are likely to be most useful and most ornamental.' [...] franklin's early life was a model for getting ahead in the new world [...] the 'useful' elements in franklin's education were the skills learned in apprenticeship and through his reading. the 'ornamental? elements,... were the knowledge and social skills learned through reading, writing, and debating" (p. ). theodore sizer, editor. the age of the academics, new york: teachers college press, . "the academy movement in north america was primarily a result of the desire to provide a more utilitarian education as compared with the education provided in classical grammar schools" (p. ). lester frank ward. the psychic factors of civilization. nd ed. new york: johnson reprint corp, . "the highest duty of society is to see that every member receives a sound education" (p. ). transcendentalism: "a th century new england movement of writers and philosophers who were loosely bound together by adherence to an idealistic system of thought based on a belief in the essential unity of all creation, the innate goodness of man, and the supremacy of insight over logic and experience for the revelation of deepest truths." the main figures were ralph waldo emerson, henry david thoreau, and margaret fuller (cf. encyclopedia britannica, micropedia. ed. paul f. boller. american transcendentalism, - . an intellectual inquiry. new york: putnam, . major philosophers of pragmatics: charles sanders peirce ( - ). although no finished work deals explicitly with his pragmatic conception, this conception permeates his entire activity. his semiotics is the result of the fundamental pragmatic philosophy he developed. john dewey ( - ). dewey bases his pragmatic conception on the proven useful. this explains why this conception was labeled instrumentalism or pragmatics of verification. among the works where this is expressed are how we think ( ), logic, the theory of inquiry ( ), knowing and known ( ). william james ( - ). james expressed his pragmatic conception from a psychological perspective. his main works dedicated to pragmatism are principles of psychology ( ), pragmatism ( ), and the meaning of truth ( ). josiah royce ( - ). he is the originator of a conception he called absolute pragmatics. john sculley, ex-ceo of apple computer, inc took the bully pulpit for literacy (at president-elect clinton's economic summit in december, ), stating that the american economy is built on ideas. he and other business leaders confuse ideas with invention, which is their main interest, and for which literacy is not really necessary. sidney lanier. the symphony, , in the poems of sidney lanier. (mary day lanier, editor). athens: university of georgia press, . thorstein veblen ( - ). american economist and social scientist who sought to apply evolutionary dynamic approach to the study of economic constructions. best known for his work the theory of the leisure class ( ), in which he coined the term conspicuous consumption. theodore dreiser. american diaries, - . (thomas p. riggio, editor). philadelphia: university of pennsylvania press, . -. sister carrie (the pennsylvania edition). philadelphia: university of pennsylvania press, . -. essays. selected magazine articles of theodore dreiser: life and art in the american 's. (yoshinobu hakutani, editor). volumes. rutherford: fairleigh dickinson university press, - . henry james. the american scene. london: chapman and hall, . -. the bostonians. london: john lehmann ltd. . "i wished to write a very american tale," james wrote in his notebook (two years prior to the publication of the novel in ). he also stated, "i asked myself what was the most salient and peculiar point of our social life. the answer was: the situation of women, the decline of the sentiment of sex...." henry steele commager. the american mind. new haven: yale university press, . in the section aptly entitled "the literature of revolt," commager noticed that the tradition of protest and revolt (dominant in american literature since emerson and thoreau) turned, at the beginning of the th century (that is, with the new economics), into an almost unanimous repudiation of the economic order. "...most authors portrayed an economic system disorderly and ruthless, wasteful and inhumane, unjust alike to working men, investors, and consumers, politically corrupt and morally corrupting," (p. ). he goes on to name william dean howell (with his novels), sinclair lewis, theodore dreiser, f. scott fitzgerald, john dos passos, and others. in the same vein, denis brogan (the american character), j.t. adams (our business civilization), harold stearns (america: a reappraisal), mary a. hamilton (in america today), andré siegfried (america comes of age) are also mentioned. howard gardner. frames of mind: theory of multiple intelligences. new york: basic books, . diane ravitch. the schools we deserve. new york: doubleday, . peter cooper ( - ). self-taught entrepreneur and inventor. as head of north american telegraph works, he made a fortune manufacturing glue and establishing iron works. in , his experimental locomotive made its first -mile run. the corcoran case. the incredible secret of john corcoran, / , abc news, april , . (text by bytranscripts: journal graphics, inc. pp. - .) noah webster. the american spelling book: containing an easy standard of pronunciation. being the first part of a grammatical institute of the english language. boston: isaiah thomas and ebenezer t. andrews, . william holmes mcguffey. mcguffey's newly revised eclectic first reader: containing progressive lessons in reading and spelling (revised and improved by wm. h. mcguffey). cincinnati: winthrop b. smith, . it is doubtful that all the clever remarks attributed to yogi berra came from him. what matters is the dry sense of humor and logical irreverence that make these remarks another form of americana. akiro morita, et al. made in japan. new york: dutton, . united we stand, the political interest group founded by h. ross perot, is probably another example of how difficult it is, even for those who take an active stand (no matter how controversial), to break the dualistic pattern of political life in the usa. this group became the reform party. gottfried benn. sämtliche werke. (gerhard schuster, editor). vols. - (prosa). stuttgart: klett cotta, . benn maintains that the language crisis is actually the expression of the crisis of the white man. andrei toom. a russian teacher in america, in focus, : , august , pp. - (reprint of the same article appearing in the june issue of the journal of mathematical behavior and then in the fall issue of american educator). among the many articles dealing with american students' attitudes towards required subject matter, this is one of the most poignant. it involves not literature, philosophy, or history, but mathematics. the author points out not only the expectations of students and educational administrators, but also the methods in which the subject matter is treated in textbooks. interestingly enough, he recounts his experience with students in a state university, where generalized, democratic access to mediocrity is equated with education. from orality to writing peter s. bellwood. prehistory in the indo-malaysian archipelago. orlando, fl: academic press, . andrew sherrat, editor. the cambridge encyclopedia of archaeology. new york: crown publishers, . eric a. havelock. schriftlichkeit. das griechische alphabet als kulturelle revolution. weinheim: verlag vch, . ishwar chandra rahi. world alphabets, their origin and development. allahabad: bhargava printing press, . current alphabets vary in number of letters from letters of the hawaiian alphabet (transliterated to the roman alphabet by an american missionary) to letters in modern indian (devnagari). most modern alphabets vary from to letters: modern greek, ; italian, ; spanish, ; modern cambodian, ; modern russian cyrillic, . modern ethiopian has letters representing consonants, each letter modified for the six vowels in the language, making a total of letters. walter j. ong. orality and literacy. the technologizing of the world. london and new york: methuen, . the comparison between orality and writing has had a very long history. it is clear that plato's remarks are made in a different pragmatic framework than that of the present. ong noticed that: "...language is so overwhelmingly oral that of all the many thousands of languages-possibly tens of thousands-spoken in the course of human history, only around have even been committed to writing to a degree sufficient to have produced literature, and most have never been written at all" (p. ). ong also refers to pictographic systems, noticing that "chinese is the largest, most complex, and richest: the k'anglisi dictionary of chinese in ad lists , characters" (p. ). recently, the assumption that chinese writing is pictographic came under scrutiny. john defrancis (visible speech. the diverse oneness of writing systems. honolulu: university of hawaii press, , p. ) categorizes the chinese system as morphosyllabic. harald haarman. universalgeschichte der schrift. frankfurt: campus verlag, . david diringer. the alphabet: a key to the history of mankind. nd ed. new york: philosophical library, . -. the story of aleph beth. new york/london: yoseloff, . -. writing. ancient peoples and places. london: thames of hudson, . ignace j. gelb. a study of writing. chicago: chicago university press, . gelb, as well as ong, assumes that writing developed only around bce among the sumerians in mesopotamia. many scripts are on record: mesopotamian cuneiform, egyptian hieroglyphs, minoan or mycenean linear b, indus valley script, chinese, mayan, aztec, and others. ritual: a set form or system of rites, religious or otherwise. ralph merrifield. the archaeology of ritual and magic. london: b. t. ratsford, . catherine bell. ritual theory, ritual practice. new york: oxford university press, . rite: a ceremonial or formal, solemn act, observance, or procedure in accordance with prescribed rule or custom, as in religious use (cf. webster's unabridged dictionary). roger grainger. the language of the rite. london: darton, longman & todd, . mythe-rite-symbole: essais d'anthropologie littéraire sur des textes de homère. angers: presses de l'université d'angers, . weltanschauung: one's philosophy or conception of the universe and of life (cf. webster's unabridged dictionary). a particular philosophy or view of life; a conception of the world (cf. the concise oxford dictionary of current english). francesco d'errico. paleolithic human calendars: a case of wishful thinking? in current anthropology, , , pp. - . he regards petroglyphs were looked at as a possible mathematical conception of the cosmos, a numbering or even a calculation system, a rhythmical support for traditional recitation, a generic system of notation. b.a. frolov. numbers in paleolithic graphic art and the initial stages in the development of mathematics, in soviet anthropology and archaeology, ( - ), , pp. - . a. marshack. upper paleolithic notation and symbol, in science, : - , . e.k.a. tratman. late upper paleolithic calculator? gough's cave, cheddar, somerset, in proceedings, university of bristol, speleological society, ( ), , pp. - . iwar werlen. ritual und sprache: zum verhältnis von sprechen und handeln in ritualen. tübingen: narr verlag, . inner clock, or biological clock, defines the relation between a biological entity and the time-based phenomena in the environment. as with the so-called circadian cycles (circadian meaning almost the day and night cycle, circa diem), rhythms of existence persist even in the absence of external stimuli. the appearance, at least, is that of an inner clock. the notion of genetic code describes a system by which dna and rna molecules carry genetic information. particular sequences of genes in these molecules represent particular sequences of amino acids (the building blocks of proteins) and thereby embody instructions for making of different types of proteins. on the same subject, but obviously at a deeper level than a dictionary definition, is james d. watson's celebrated book, the double helix: a personal account of the discovery of the structure of dna. (a new critical edition, including text, commentary, reviews, original papers, edited by gunther s. stent). london: weidenfeld and nicolson, . homeostasis: the tendency towards a relatively stable equilibrium between interdependent elements of the human body. physiological processes leading to body equilibrium are interlocked in dynamic processes. references to the oral phase of language in claude lévi-strauss: la pensée sauvage ( ). translated as the savage mind. chicago: university of chicago press, . le cru et le cuit ( ) the raw and the cooked. trans. john and doreen weightman. new york: harper and row, . andrew and susan sherrat (quoted by peter s. bellwood, op.cit): a distinction accepted is that between unvocalized (hebrew, arabic) and vocalized alphabets (starting with the greek, in which the vowels are no longer omitted). some languages use syllabaries, reuniting a consonant and a following vowel (such as in the japanese katakana: ka, ke, ki, ko, ku). when two different conventions are applied, the writing system is hybrid: the korean language has a very powerful alphabet, hangul, but also uses chinese characters, but pronouned in korean. the hangul system ( th century) expressed, for koreans, a desire for self- identity. plato. phaedrus, and the seventh and eighth letters (translated from the greek), with an introduction by walter hamilton. harmondsworth: penguin press, . in phaedrus, socrates, portrayed by plato, articulates arguments against writing: "it will implant forgetfulness in their souls [of people, m.n.]; they will cease to exercise memory because they rely on that which is written, calling these things to remembrance no longer from within themselves, but by means of external marks; what you have discovered is a recipe [pharmakon, a potion; some translate it as recipe] not for memory, but for reminder" ( - e). oraltity and language today: what do people understand when they understand language? ludwig wittgenstein. tractatus logico-philosophicus. translated by d.f. pears and b.f. guinness. london: routledge & kegan paul, . amos oz refers to self-constitution in language as follows: "...a language is never a 'means' or a 'framework' or a 'vehicle' for culture. it is culture. if you live in hebrew, if you think, dream, make love in hebrew, sing in hebrew in the shower, tell lies in hebrew, you are 'inside'. [...] if a writer writes in hebrew, even if he rewrites dostoevksy or writes about a tartar invasion of south america, hebrew things will always happen in his stories. things which are ours and which can only happen with us: certain rhythms, moods, combinations, associations, longings, connotations, atavistic attitudes towards the whole of creation, and so forth," (under this blazing light, cambridge, england: university press, , p. ). j. lyons. semantics. cambridge: cambridge university press, . semantics requires that one "abstract from the user of the language and analyze only the expressions and their designata" (vol. ., p. ). noam chomsky. the distinction between competence and performance in aspects of the theory of syntax. cambridge, ma: mit press, . many scholars noticed the dualism inherent in the chomskyan theory. competence is "the speaker- hearer's knowledge of his language;" performance is "the actual use of language in concrete situations" (p. ). noam chomsky started to formulate the idea of the innate constitution of a speaker's competence in the famous article a review of b.k. skinner's verbal behavior in language, ( ), an idea he has developed through all his scholarly work. in the review, he considered the alternatives: language is learned (within skinner's scheme of stimulus-response), or it is somehow innate. in aspects of the theory of syntax (cambridge ma: mit press, ), reflections on language (london: fontana, ), and rules and representations (oxford: blackwell, ), the thought is constantly refined, though not necessarily more convincing (as his critics noticed). roman jakobson. essais de linguistique générale, paris: editions de minuit, . jakobson refused to ascertain any "private property" in the praxis of language. everything in the domain of language "is socialized" (p. ). feedback: "the property of being able to adjust future conduct by past performance" (norbert wiener, the human use of human beings, p. ). in , martin gardner and douglas hoffstaedter shared a column in scientific american, which hoffstaedter called metamagical themes. in his first article, he defined self-reference: "it happens every time anyone says 'i' or 'me' or 'word' or 'speak' or 'mouth.' it happens every time a newspaper prints a story about reporters, every time someone writes a book about writing, designs a book about design, makes a movie about movies, or writes an article about self-reference. many systems have the capability to represent or refer to themselves, or elements of themselves, within the system of their own symbolism" (scientific american, january, , vol. : , pp. - ). hofstaedter finds that self-reference is ubiquitous. para-linguistic elements are discussed in detail in eduard ataian's book jazyk i vneiazykovaia deistvitelnost: opyt ontologicheskovo sravnenia (language and paralinguistic activity, an attempt towards an ontological comparison). erevan: izd. erevanskovo universiteta, . luciano canepari. l'internazione linguistica e paralinguistica, napoli: liguori, . canepari insists on prosodic elements. the pragmatic aspect of arithmetic is very complex. many more examples relating to the use of numbers and their place in language can be found in crump (the examples given are referenced in the anthropology of numbers, cambridge/new york: cambridge university press, , pp. and ). face-to-face communication, or iteration, attracted the attention of semioticians because codes other than those of language are at work. adam kendon, among others, thought that non-verbal communication captures only a small part of the face-to-face situation. the need to integrate non-verbal semiotic entities in the broader context of a communicative situation finally leads to the discovery of non-verbal codes, but also to the question of how much of the language experience is continued where language is not directly used. useful reading can be found in aspects of non-verbal communication (walburga raffler-engel, editor), lisse: swets & zeitlinger, . steven pinker. the language instinct: how the mind creates language. new york: william morrow & co, . (his book appeared eight years after this chapter was written.) as opposed to pictograms, which are iconic representations (based on likeness) of concrete objects, ideograms are composites (sometimes diagrams) of more abstract representations of the same. chao yuen ren (in language and symbolic systems, cambridge: at the university press, ) shows how chinese ideograms for the sequence , , are built up: yi, represented as -; ér as - ; san as - . françois cheng. chinese poetic writing, bloomington: indiana university press, . (translation by d.a. riggs and j.p. seaton of l'écriture poétique chinoise, paris: editions du seuil, ). "the ideogram for one, consisting of a single horizontal stroke, separates (and simultaneously unites) heaven and earth" (p. ). he goes on to exemplify how, "by combining the basic strokes,...one obtains other ideograms." the example given is that of combining [one] and [man, house] to obtain [large, big] and further on [sky, heaven]. on protolanguage: thomas v. gamkredlidze and v.v. ivanov, the early history of indo-european languages, in scientific american, march , pp. - . reading by machines, i.e., scanning and full text processing (through the use of optical character recognition programs) led some companies to advertise a new literacy. caere and hewlett-packard, sponsors of project literacy us and reading is fundamental came up with the headline "we'd like to teach the world to read" to introduce optical character recognition technology (a scanner and software), which makes machine reading (of texts, numbers, and graphics) possible. in another ad, que software depicts english grammar, punctuation and style books, and the dictionary opposite a red key. the ad states: "rightwriter improves your writing with the touch of a hot key." the program is supposed to check punctuation and grammar. it can also be customized for specific writing styles (inquiry to your insurance agent, answer to the irs, complaints to city hall or a consumer protection agency). as a matter of fact, the phenomena referred to are not a matter of advertisement slogans but of a new means for reading and even writing. a program such as voiceworks (also known as voicerad) was designed for radiologists who routinely review x-rays and generate written reports on their findings. based on patterns recognized by the physician, the program accepts dictation (from a subset of natural language) and generates the ca. -word report without misspelling difficult technical terms. voiceem (for emergency room doctors) is activated by voice clues (e.g., "auto accident"), displaying a report from which the physician chooses the appropriate words: "(belted/non-belted,) (driver/passenger) in (low/moderate/high) velocity accident struck from (rear/head-on/broadside) and (claims/denies) rolling vehicle." canned medical and legal phrases summarize situations that correspond to circumstances on record. when the doctor states "normal throat," the machine spells out a text that reproduces stereotype descriptions: "throat clear, tongue, pharynx without injections, exudate tonsilar hypertrophy, teeth normal variant." the , -word lexicon can handle the vast majority of emergencies. those beyond the lexicon usually surpass the competence of the doctor. the subject of visual mnemonic devices used in the interpretation of shakespeare's plays is marvelously treated in frances a. yates's book the art of memory (harmondsworth: penguin press, ). she discusses robert fludd's memory system of theater, from his ars memoriae ( ), based on the shakespearean globe theater. in ancient greece, orators constructed complex spatial and temporal schemata as aids in rehearsing and properly presenting their speeches. functioning of language research on memory and language functions in the brain is being carried out at the university of minnesota, institute of child development. work is focused on individuals who are about to undergo partial lobotomies to treat intractable epilepsy. the goal is to provide a functional map of the brain. "history remains a strict discipline only when it stops short, in its description, of the nonverbal past." (ivan illich and barry sanders, the alphabetization of the popular mind, p. ). derrick de kerkhove, charles j. lumsden, editors. the alphabet and the brain. the lateralization of writing. berlin/heidelberg: springer verlag, . in this book, edward jones and chizato aoki report on the different cognitive processing of phonetic (kana) and logographic (kanji) characters in japanese (p. ). andré martinet. le langage. paris: encyclopédie de la pléiade, . maurice merleau-ponty. phénoménologie de la perception. paris: gallimard, bibliothèque des idées, . andré leroi-gourhan. moyens d'expression graphique, in bulletin du centre de formation aux recherches ethnologiques, paris, no. , , pp. - . -. le geste et la parole, vol. i and ii. paris: albin michel, - . -. les racines du monde, in entretiens avec claude-henri rocquet. paris: pierre belfond, . gordon v. childe. the bronze age. new york: biblio and tannen, . john defrances. the chinese language: fact and fantasy. . marshall mcluhan. understanding media: the extensions of man. new york: mcgraw hill . in many of his writings, roland barthes suggested characteristics of the oral and visual culture. the distinction between the two preoccupied him. klingon is a language crafted by marc okrand, a linguist, for use by fictional characters. the popularity of star trek explains how klingon spread around the world. by eliminating sources of ambiguity and prescribing stylistic rules, controlled languages aim for improved readability. they are easier to maintain and they support computational processing, such as machine translation (cf. willem-olaf huijsen, introduction to controlled languages, a webtext of ). an example of an artificial language of controlled functions and logic is logics workbench (lwb), developed at the university of berne, in switzerland. the language is available through the www. drawing: the trace left by a tool drawn along a surface particularly for the purpose of preparing a representation or pattern. drawing forms the basis of all the arts. edward laning, the act of drawing, new york: mcgraw hill, . design: balducinni defined design as "a visible demonstration by means of those things which man has first conceived in his mind and pictured in the imagination and which the practised hand can make appear." "before balducinni, its primary sense was drawing." (cf. oxford companion to art). more information is given in the references for the chapter devoted to design. alan pipes, drawing for -dimensional design: concepts, illustration, presentation, london: thames and hudson, . thomas crump. the anthropology of numbers, cambridge/new york: cambridge university press, . referring to yoshio yano's article of , in japanese, entitled communication life of the family, crump writes: "...age, in the absence of other overreaching criteria, determines hierarchy: this rule applies, for instance, in japan, and is based on the antithesis of semmai-kohai, whose actual meaning is simply senior-junior. the moral basis of the precedence of the elder over the younger (cho-yo-no-jo) originated in china, and is reflected in the first instance in the precedence of siblings of the same sex, which is an important structural principle within the family" (p. ). on the issue of context affecting language functions, see george carpenter barker, social functions of language in a mexican-american community. phoenix: the university of arizona press, . arthur m. schlesinger, jr. the disuniting of america. reflections on a multicultural society. new york: w.w. norton, . sneja gunew and jan mahyuddin, editors. beyond the echo. multicultural women's writing . st. lucia: university of queensland press, . stephen j. rimmer. the cost of multiculturalism. belconnen, act: s.j.rimmer, . language and logic a.e. van vogt. the world of null-a. . the novel was inspired by a work of alfred korzybski, science and sanity. an introduction to non-aristotelian systems and general semantics ( ). walter j. ong seems convinced that "...formal logic is the invention of greek culture after it had interiorized the technology of alphabetic writing, and so made a permanent part of its noetic resources the kind of thinking that alphabetic writing made possible" (op. cit., p. ). he reports on a.r. luria's book, cognitive development: its cultural and social foundations ( ). after experiments designed to define how illiterate subjects react to formal logical procedures (in particular, deductive reasoning), luria seems to conclude that no one actually operates in formally stated syllogisms. lucien lévy-bruhl. les fonctions mentales dans les sociétés inférieures. paris: alcan, . (translated as how natives think by lilian a. clave, london: allen & unwin, .) lévy-bruhl reconnects to the notion of participation that originates in plato's philosophy and applies it to fit the so-called pre-logic mentality. anton dumitru. history of logic. vols. turnbridge wells, kent: abacus press, . in exemplifying the law of participation, dumitru gives the following example: "in central brazil there lives an indian tribe called bororó. in the same region we also find a species of parrots called arara. the explorers were surprised to find that the indians claimed to be arara themselves. [...] put differently, a member of the bororó tribe claims to be what he actually is and also something else just as real, namely an arara parrot" (vol. , pp. - ). rené descartes ( - ), under his latinized name renatus cartesius, sees logic as "teaching us to conduct well our reason in order to discover the truths we ignore" ("qui apprend à bien conduire sa raison pour découvrir les vérités qu'on ignore"). for descartes, mathematics is the general method of science. oeuvres de descartes. publiées par charles adam and paul tannery, eds. vols. nouvelle présentation en co-édition avec le centre national de la recherche scientifique. paris: vrin. - (reprint of the - edition). in english, the rendition by elizabeth s. haldane and george r.t. ross was published in london, cambridge university press, . "logic is the art of directing reason aright, in obtaining the knowledge of things, for the instruction both of ourselves and of others. it consists of the reflections which have been made on the four principal operations of the mind: conceiving, judging, reasoning, and disposing" (port royal logic, introduction). john locke ( - ) was looking for simple logical elements and rules to compound them. certainty is not the result of syllogistic inference. "syllogism is at best nothing but the art of bringing to light, in debate, the little knowledge we have, without adding any other to it." an essay concerning human understanding (london, ) sets an empirical, psychologically based perspective of logic. george boole ( - ) conceived of a logical calculus, in an investigation of the laws of thought on which are founded the mathematical theories of logic and probabilities (london, ), which eventually became the basis for digital computation. fung-yu-lan. précis d'histoire de la philosophie chinoise. paris: plon, . "it is very difficult for somebody to understand fully chinese philosophical works, if he is not able to read the original text. the language is indeed a barrier. due to the suggestive character of chinese philosophical writings, this barrier gets more daunting, these writings being almost untranslatable. in translation, they lose their power of suggestion. in fact, a translation is nothing but an interpretation" (p. ). chang-tzu. cf. anton dumitru, op.cit., p. . kung-fu-tzu ( - , bce), whose latinized name is confucius, expressed the logical requirement to "rectify the names." this translates as the need to put things in agreement with one another by correct designations. "the main thing is the rectification of names (cheng ming) [...] if the names are not rectified, the words cannot fit; if the words do not fit, the affairs [in the world] will not be successful. if these affairs are not successful, neither rites nor music can flourish. if rites and music do not flourish, punishments cannot be just. if they are not just, people do not know how to act." the conclusion is, "the wise man should never show levity in using words;" (lun-yu, cf. wing-tsit-chan, a source book in chinese philosophy, princeton: princeton university press, ). aristotle ( - bce). logic in his view is thinking about thinking. the whole logical theory of the syllogism is presented in the analytica priora. the analytica posteriora gives the structure of deductive sciences. the notion of political animal is part of the aristotelian political system (cf. politics). takeo doi. amae no kozo. tokyo: kobundo. . (translated as the anatomy of dependence by john bester, tokyo/new york: kodansho international and harper & row, .) vedic texts, the collective name for veda, defined as the science (the root of the word seems to be similar to the greek for idea, or the latin videre, to see) of direct intuition, convey the experience of the rsis, ancient sages who had a direct perception of things. the writings that make up veda are: rig veda, invocatory science; yajur veda, sacrificial; sama veda, melody; atharva veda, of incantation. in each veda, there is a section on the origin of the ritual, on the meaning, and on the esoteric aspect. mircea eliade. yoga. paris: gallimard, . "india has endeavoured...to analyze the various conditioning factors of the human being. ...this was done not in order to reach a precise and coherent explanation of the human being, as did, for instance, europe of the th century,... but in order to know how far the zones of the human being go and see whether there is anything else beyond these conditionings" (p. ). the logic of action, as part of logical theory, deals with various aspects of defining what leads to reaching a goal and what are the factors involved in defining the goal and testing the result. raymond bondon, in logique du social (translated by david and gillian silverman as the logic of social action: an introduction to sociological analysis, london/boston: routledge & kegan paul, ), gives the subject a sociological perspective. cornel popa, in praxiologie si logica (praxiology and logic, bucharest: editura academiei, ) deals with social action. authors such as d. lewis, a. salomaa, b.f. chelas, r.c. jeffrey, and jaako hintikka, whose contributions were reunited in a volume celebrating stig kanger, pay attention to semantic aspects and conditional values in many-valued propositional logics (cf. logical theory and semantic analysis, edited by soren stenlund, dordrecht/boston: reidel, ). the term culture originates in human practical experiences related to nature: cultivating land, breeding and rearing animals. by extension, culture (i.e., cultivating and breeding the mind) leads to the noun describing a way of life. in the late th century, herder used the plural cultures to distinguish what was to become civilization. in , dilthey made the distinction between cultural sciences (geisteswissenschaften, addressing the mind) and natural sciences. the objects of cultural sciences are man-made and the goal is understanding (verstehen). for more information on the emergence and use of the term culture, see a.l. kroeber and c. kluckholm, culture: a critical review of concepts and definitions, in peabody museum papers, xlvii, harvard university press, . ramon lull (raymundus lullus, - ) suggested a mechanical system of combining ideas, an alphabet (or repertory) and a calculus for generating all possible judgments. called ars magna (the great art), his work attracted both ironic remarks and enthusiastic followers. athanasius kircher, in polygraphia nova et universalis ex combinatoria arte detecta (new and universal polygraphy discovered from the arts of combination, rome, ), tried to introduce an arithmetic of logic. george delgarus, in ars signorum (the art of signs, london, ), suggested a universal language of signs. john wilkins dealt with it as a secret language ( , mercury, or the secret and swift messenger, and , an essay towards a real character and a philosophical language). lotfi zadeh introduced fuzzy logic: a logic of vague though quantified relations among entities and of non- clear-cut definitions (what is young? tall? bold? good?). felix hausdorf/paul mongré. sant 'ilario. gedanken aus der landschaft zarathustras. . p. w.b. gallie (peirce's pragmatism, in peirce and pragmatism, harmondsworth: penguin books, ) noticed that peirce, "in the pragmaticism papers, approaches the subject of vagueness from a number of different sides. he claims, for instance, that all our most deeply grounded and in practice indubitable beliefs are essentially vague" (cf. peirce, . ). according to peirce, vagueness is a question of representation, not a peculiarity of the object of the representation. he goes on to specify that the source of vagueness is the relation between the sign and the interpretant ("indefiniteness in depth may be termed vagueness," cf. mss , , - ). additional commentary in nadin, the logic of vagueness and the category of synechism, in the monist, special issue: the relevance of charles peirce, : , july, , pp. - . richard dawkins. the selfish gene. new york: oxford university press, . -. the extended phenotype. new york: oxford university press, . elan moritz, of the institute for memetic research, provides the historic and methodological background to the subject in introduction to memetic science. e.o. wilson. sociobiology: the new synthesis. cambridge: belknap/harvard university press, . mihai nadin. mind-anticipation and chaos (from the series milestones in thought and discovery). stuttgart/zurich: belser presse. . "minds exist only in relation to other minds" p. . the book was based on a lecture delivered in january, at ohio state university. language as mediating mechanism richard dawkins. the selfish gene. new york: oxford university press, . -. the extended phenotype. new york: oxford university press, . elan moritz, of the institute for memetic research, provides the historic and methodological background to the subject in introduction to memetic science., a webtext. e.o. wilson. sociobiology: the new synthesis. cambridge: belknap/harvard university press, . mediation: a powerful philosophic notion reflecting interest in the many ways in which something different from what we want to know, understand, do, or act upon intercedes between the object of our interest, action, or thought. g.w. hegel. hegels werke, vollständige ausgabe durch einen verein von freunden des verewigten, vols. i-xix. berlin. - , the dialectics of mediation includes a non-mediated mode, generated by the suppression of mediation, leading to the thing-in-itself: "dieses sein ist daher eine sache, die an und für sich ist die objektivität" (vol. v, p. ) (this being is, henceforth, a thing in itself and for itself, it is objectivity.) everything else is mediated. in all post-hegelian developments-right wing (hinrichs, goeschel, gabler), left-wing (ruge, feuerback, strauss), center (bauer, köstlin, erdmann)-mediation is a major concept. emile durkheim. de la division du travail sociale. th ed. paris: presses univérsitaires de france, . (translated as the division of labor in society by w.d. halls. new york: free press, ). michel freyssenet. la division capitaliste du travail. paris: savelli, . elliot a. krause. division of labor, a political perspective. westport ct: greenwood press, . gunnar tornqvist, editor. division of labour, specialization, and technical change: global, regional, and workplace level. malmo, sweden: liber, . marcella corsi. division of labour, technical change, and economic growth. aldershot, hants, u.k.: avebury/brookfield vt: gower publishing co., . leonard bloomfield. language. . rpt. new york: holt, rinehart & winston. . in this work, the author maintains that the division of labor, and with it the whole working of human society, is due to language. charles sanders peirce. "anything that determines something else (its interpretant) to refer to an object to which itself refers (its object) in the same way, the interpretant becoming in turn a sign, and so on ad infinitum" ( . ). "something which stands to somebody in some respect or capacity" ( . ). other sign definitions have been given: "in the language, reciprocal presuppositions are established between the expression (signifier) and the expressed (signified). the sign is the manifestation of these presuppositions," (a. j. greimas and j. courtés, semiotics and language. an analytical dictionary, bloomington: indiana university press, , p. ; translation of sémiotique. dictionnaire raisonné de la théorie du langage, paris: classique hachette, ). according to l. hjelmslev, the sign is the result of semiosis taking place at the time of the language act. benveniste considers that the sign is representative of another thing, which it evokes as a substitute. herbert marcuse. the one-dimensional man. studies in the ideology of advanced industrial society. boston: beacon press, . plato. phaedrus, and the seventh and eighth letters (translated from the greek), with an introduction by walter hamilton. harmondsworth: penguin press, . regarding cave paintings, see: mihai nadin. understanding prehistoric images in the post-historic age: a cognitive project, in semiotica, : - , . berlin, new york: mouton de gruyter. pp. - b. campbell. humankind emerging. toronto: little, brown & co., . w. davis. the origins of image making, in current anthropology, ( ). pp. - . luigi bottin. contributi della tradizione greco-latina e arabo-latina al testo della rhetorica di aristotele. padova: antenore, . marc fumaroli. l'age de l'Éloquence: rhétorique et 'res literaria' de la renaissance au seuil de l'Époque classique. geneva: droz and paris: champion, . william m.a. grimaldi. aristotle, rhetoric: a commentary. new york: fordham university press, - . rhetoric is generally seen as the ability to persuade. using many kinds of signs (language, images, sounds, gestures, etc.), rhetoric is connected to the pragmatic context. in ancient greece and rome, as well as in china and india, rhetoric was considered an art and practiced for its own sake. some consider rhetoric as one of the sources of semiotics (together with logic, hermeneutics, and the philosophy of language (cf. tzvetan todorov, théorie du symbole, paris: ed. du seuil, ). gestures are a part of rhetoric. quintillian, in de institutione oratoria, dealt with the lex gestus (law of gesture). in the renaissance, the code of gesture was studied in detail. in our days of illiterate rhetoric based on stereotypes and increasingly compressed messages, gestures gain a special status indicative of the power of non-literacy-based ceremonies. the rhetoric of advertisement pervades human interaction. george boole ( - ) conceived of a logical calculus, in an investigation of the laws of thought on which are founded the mathematical theories of logic and probabilities (london, ), which eventually became the basis for digital computation. howard rheingold.virtual reality. new york: summit books, . rheingold offers a description that can substitute for a definition: "imagine a wraparound television with programs, including three-dimensional sound, and solid objects that you can pick up and manipulate, even feel with your fingers and hands. imagine immersing yourself in an artificial world and actively exploring it, rather than peering at it from a fixed perspective through a flat screen in a movie theater, on a television set, or on a computer display. imagine that you are the creator as well as the consumer of your artificial experience, with the power to use a gesture or a word to remold the world you see and hear and feel" (p. ). in an internet interview with rheingold, sherry turkel points out that computers and networks are objects- to-think-with for a networked era. she predicts, "i believe that against all odds and against most current expectations, we are going to see a rebirth of psychoanalytic thinking" (cf. brainstorms, http://www.well.com, ). literacy, language, and market reference is made to the works of margaret wheatley (management and the new science); michael rothschild (bionomics); bernardo huberman (dynamics of collective actions and learning in multi-agent organizations); robert axtel and joshua epstein (creators of sugarscape, a model of trade); and axel leijonhufvud (multi-agent systems), all published as webtexts. transactions as extensions of human biology evince the complex nature of human interactions. maturana and varela indirectly refer to human transactions: "coherence and harmony in relations and interactions between the members of a human social system are due to the coherence and harmony of their growth in it, in an ongoing social learning which their own social (linguistic) operation defines and which is possible thanks to the genetic and ontogenetic processes that permit structural plasticity of the members" (op. cit., p. ). they diagram the shift from minimum autonomy of components (characteristic of organisms) to maximum autonomy of components (characteristic of human societies). a walk through wall street, in us news and world report, nov. , , pp. - . one from among many reminiscences by martin mayer, author of madison avenue, wall street, men and money. "wall street as price setter for the country dealt with much more than pieces of paper. commodities markets proliferated. the fish market was on the east river at fulton; the meat market on the hudson just to the north.... the 'physicals' of all commodities markets were present...there were cotton sacks in the warehouse of the cotton exchange, coffee bags stored here for delivery against the contracts at the sugar and coffee exchange on hanover square and often a smell of roasting coffee. "in the 's, this was a male world-women were not allowed to work on the floor of the stock exchange, let alone become members. the old-timers explained with great sincerity that there was no ladies room." the report points out that today wall street "sees less of the real world outside, depends more on abstract information processed through data machinery and more than ever responds to forces far from its borders." zoon semiotikon, the semiotic animal, labeled by paul mongré (also known as felix hausdorf). charles s. peirce gave the following definitions: representamen: a sign is a representamen of which some interpretant is a cognition of a mind ( . ). object: the mediate object is the object outside the sign; ...the sign must indicate it by a hint (letter to lady welby, december , ). interpretant: the effect that the sign would produce upon any mind (letter to lady welby, march , ). in reference to the symbolic nature of market transactions, another peircean definition is useful: "symbols grow. they come into being by development out of other signs.... we think only in signs.... if a man makes a new symbol, it is by thoughts involving concepts" ( . ). the pragmatic thought is, nevertheless, inherent in any sign process. markets embody sign processes in the pragmatic field. winograd and flores state bluntly "a business (like any other organization) is constituted as a network of recurrent conversations" (op. cit., p. ). alfred d. chandler, jr. (with the assistance of takashi hikino) scale and scope. the dynamics of industrial capitalism. cambridge ma/london, england: the belknap press of harvard university press, . "...the modern industrial enterprise...has more than a production function." (p. ). chandler further notes that "expanded output by a change in capital-labor ratios is brought about by economies of scale which incorporate economies of speed.... wholesalers and retailers expand to exploit economies of scale" (p. ). james gordley. the philosophical origins of modern contract doctrine. new york: oxford university press, . mariadele manca masciadri. i contratti di baliatico, vols. milan: (s.n.), . john h. pryor. business contracts of medieval provence. selected notulae from the cartulary of girard amalric of marseilles, . toronto: pontifical institute of medieval studies, . ecu: in , the process of european unification led to the creation of the european monetary system (ems), with its coin being the european currency unit (ecu) and the exchange rate mechanism (erm). as a basket of european currencies, the ecu serves as a reserve currency in europe and probably beyond. it is not the currency of choice for international transactions, and as of the maastricht negotiations, which affirmed the need for a community currency, the ecu was not adopted for this purpose. although predominant weight in the basket (over %) is given to the german mark, the ecu is designed on the assumption that it is quite improbable that a certain currency will move in the same direction against all others. therefore, exchange rates are statistically stabilized. michael rothschild. bionomics: economy as ecosystem. webtext, . robert l. heilbroner. the demand for the supply side, in the new york review of books, june , , p. . he asks rhetorically: "how else should one identify a force that debases language, drains thought, and undoes dignity? if the barrage of advertising, unchanged in its tone and texture, were devoted to some other purpose-say the exaltation of the public sector-it would be recognized in a moment for the corrosive element that it is. but as the voice of the private sector it escapes this startled notice. i mention it only to point out that a deep source of moral decay for capitalism arises from its own doings, not from that of its governing institutions." literacy and education will seymour monroe. comenius and the beginnings of educational reform. new york: arno press, , (originally printed in ). adolphe erich meyer. education in modern times. up from rousseau. new york: avon press, . linus pierpont brockett. history and progress of education from the earliest times to the present. new york: a.s. barnes, . (originally signed "philobiblius," with an introduction by henry barnard.) james bowen. a history of western education. vols. london: methuen, - . pierre riché. education et culture dans l'occident barbare - siècles. paris: editions du seuil, . bernard bischoff. elementärunterricht und probationes pennae in der ersten hälfte des mittelalters, in mittelalterliche studien i, , pp. - . james nehring. the schools we have. the schools we want. an american teacher on the frontline. san francisco: jossey-bass, . irenée henri marron. a history of education in antiquity. new york: sheed and ward, . jacques barzun. the forgotten conditions of teaching and learning (morris philipson, editor). chicago: the university of chicago press, . the review mentioned was written by david alexander, begin here, in the new york review of books, april , , p. . polis (greek) signifies settled communities that eventually evolved into cities. the city-state in five cultures. edited with an introduction by robert griffeth and carol g. thomas. santa barbara ca: abc-clio, . j.n. coldstream. the formation of the greek polis: aristotle and archaeology. opladen: westdeutscher verlag, . individual and community: the rise of the polis, - bc. new york: oxford university press, . will durant. the story of civilization. vol , the age of faith. new york: simon and schuster, . in , the university of pavia was founded as a school of law. the university of bologna was founded in by irnevius, also for the teaching of law. students from all over latin europe came to study there. around , the university of paris was founded; by the middle of the th century, four faculties had developed: theology, canon law, medicine and the seven arts. (the seven liberal arts were comprised of the trivium-grammar, rhetoric, and logic-and the quadrivium-arithmetic, geometry, music, and astronomy.) some time in the th century, a studium generale or university was established at oxford (pp - ). the name university derives from the fact that the essences or universals were taught (cf. encyclopedia britannica, th edition, micropedia, vol. , . logos: (noun, from the greek, from the verb lego: "i say"): word, speech, argument, explanation, doctrine, principle, reason; signified word or speech. ratio (from the latin "to think"): reason, rationale; signified measure or proportion. some of the work linking the early knowledge of the latin and greek heritage of european thought, especially that part shut off to christendom in moorish jerusalem, alexandria, cairo, tunis, sicily, and spain, was transmitted by the jews, who translated works in arabic to latin. the moslems preserved the texts of euclid and works dealing with alchemy and chemistry. in , gerald of cremona studied arabic in spain in order to translate works of aristotle (posterior analysis, on the heavens and the earth, among others), euclid (elements, data), archimedes, apollonius of perga, galen, works of greek astronomy and greco-arabic physics, books of arabic medicine and works of arabic astronomy and mathematics from the arabic to latin. beginning , michael scot translated a number of aristotle's works from the arabic to latin (cf. will durant, op. cit., pp. - ). galileo galilei. discorsi e dimostrazioni matematiche (two new sciences: including centers of gravity and force of percussion, translated, with a new introduction and notes, by stillman drake) toronto: wall & thompson. -. galileo's early notebooks. the physical questions (translated from the latin, with historical and paleographical commentary, by william a. wallace). notre dame in: university of notre dame press. sir isaac newton ( - ). in , he published philosophiae principia mathematica, in which he offered explanations for the movement of planets. in this work, the abstraction of force (of attraction) is constituted and a postulate is formulated: every particle of matter in the universe attracts every other with a force whose magnitude depends directly upon the product of their masses and inversely upon the square of the distance between the two. albert einstein ( - ) published in his contribution as die grundlagen der allgemeinen relativitätstheorie, in which he referred to the attraction of massive objects. the cosmic reality of such objects and of huge distances and high velocities is quite different from the mechanical universe under consideration by galileo and newton. movement of planets cause the curving of space. einstein's theory shows that the curvature of space time evolves dynamically. newton's theory turned out to be an approximation of einstein's more encompassing model. john searle. the storm over the university, in the new york review of books, : , december , , pp. - mathematization: the use of mathematical methods or concepts in particular sciences or in the humanities. the conception of mathematics as a model for the sciences as well as for the humanities has been repeatedly expressed throughout history. in some cases, mathematization represents the search for abstract structures. today mathematization is often taken to mean modeling on computer programs. académie française: french library academy established by cardinal richelieu in . its original purpose was to maintain standards of literary taste and to establish the literary language. membership is limited to (encyclopedia britannica, th edition, micropedia, vol. , . p. ). alan bloom. the closing of the american mind. how education has failed democracy and impoverished the souls of today's students. new york: simon and schuster. "those despised millionaires who set up a university in the midst of a city that seems devoted only to what they had neglected, whether it was out of a sense of what they themselves had issued, or out of bad conscience about what their lives were exclusively devoted to, or to satisfy the vanity of having their names attached to the enterprise," (p. ). bart simpson, the main character of the animated cartoon series of the same name, created by matt groening. bart was first sketched in ; the television series first aired in the winter of . terry winograd and fernando flores. understanding computers and cognition. a new foundation for design. norwood nj: ablex publishing corporation, . "organizations exist as networks of directives and commissives. directives include orders, requests, consultations, and offers; commissives include promises, acceptances, and rejections" (p. ). they state also: "in fulfilling an organization's external commitments, its personnel are involved in a network of conversations" (p. ). ludwig wittgenstein. philosophical investigations (translation by g.e.m. anscombe of philosophische untersuchungen). oxford: basil blackwell. (reprint of the edition) if a multiple choice test in world history (given in june, at stuyvesant high school in new york city) asks whether the holocaust is an italian revolutionary movement, and if mein kampf was hitler's body guard or his summer retreat, why should anyone be surprised that american students show no better choices than those they are supposed to choose from? steve waite. interview with bill melton, journal of bionomics, july . family: discovering the primitive future statistics on family in the usa and the world are a matter of public record. the processing and interpretation of data, even in the age of electronic processing, takes time once data has been collected. the statistical handbook on the american family (phoenix az: the orynx press, ), for instance, deals with trends covering - . the numbers are intriguing. well over % of the adult population married by the time of their th birthday, but only around % are currently married. % are divorced and almost as many widowed. the general conclusions about the family are: there is a decline in marital stability with over one million children per year affected by the divorce of their parents. less than % of the people see marriage as a lifetime relationship. the posslq (persons of opposite sex sharing living quarters) is well over % of the population. the size of the average american household shrank from . persons over years ago to . recently. interracial marriages, while triple in number compared to , include slightly below % of the population. a.f. robertson. beyond the family. the social organization of human reproduction. cambridge, england: polity press, . martine fell. Ça va, la famille? paris: le hameau, . nicolas caparros. crisis de la familia. revolución del vivir. buenos aires: ediciones pargieman, . adrian wilson. family. london: travistock publications, . charles franklin thwing. the family. an historical and social study. boston: lee and shepard, . edward l. kain. the myth of family decline. understanding families in a world of rapid social change. lexington ma: lexington books, . herbert kretschmer. ehe und familie. die entwicklung von ehe und familie im laufe der geschichte. dornach, switzerland: verlag am goetheanum, . andré burguière, christiane klapisch-zuber, martine segalen, françoise zonabend, editors. histoire de la famille (preface by claude lévi-strauss)..paris: armand colin, . family is established in extension of reproductive drives and natural forms of cooperation. regardless of the types leading to what was called the family nucleus (husband and wife), families embody reciprocal obligations. the formalization of family life in marriage contracts was stimulated by writing. j.b.m. guy. glottochronology without cognate recognition. canberra: department of linguistics research, school of pacific studies, australian national university, . although the processes leading to the formation of nations is relatively recent, nations were frequently characterized as an extended family, although the processes reflect structural characteristics of human practical experiences different from those at work in the constitution of the family. martin b. duberman. about time. exploring the gay past. new york: gay presses of new york city, . jeffrey weeks. against nature. essays on history, sexuality, and identity. london: rivers oram, . bernice goodman. the lesbian. a celebration of difference. brooklyn: out & out books, . jean bethke elshtain. against gay marriage, in commonweal, november , , pp. - . brent hartinger. a case for gay marriage, in commonweal, november , , pp. , - . not in the best interest (adoption by lesbians and gays), in utne reader, november/december, , p. . william plummer. a mother's priceless gift, in people weekly, august , , pp. - . nelly e. gupta and frank. feldinger. brave new baby (zift surrogacy), in ladies home journal, october, , pp. - . mary thom. dilemmas of the new birth technologies, in ms., may, , pp. , , - . cleo kocol. the rent-a-womb dilemma, in the humanist, july/august, , p. . marsha riben. a last resort (excerpt from shedding light on the dark side of adoption), in utne reader, november/december, , pp. - . lisa gubernick. how much is that baby in the window? in forbes, october , , pp. - . self-sufficiency, reflecting contexts of existence of limited scale, marks the amish and mennonite families. the family contract is very powerful. succeeding generations care for each other to the extent that the home always includes quarters for the elderly. each new generation is endowed in order to maintain the path of self-sufficiency. the amish wedding (the subject of stephen scott's book of the same title, intercourse pa: good books, ), as well as the role the family plays in educating children (children in amish society: socialization and community education, by j.a. hosteter and g. enders huntington, new york: holt rinehart and winston, ) are indicative of this family life. andy grove. only the paranoid survive. new york: doubleday, . the ceo of intel, one of the world's most successful companies, discussed the requirement of genetic update and his own, apparently dated, corporate genes. adam smith. the theory of moral sentiments (d.d. raphael and a.l. macfie, editors). oxford: clarendon press, . david hume. a treatise of human nature (l.a. selby-bigge, editor). nd edition. oxford/new york: clarendon press, . -. inquiries concerning human understanding and concerning the principles of morals (l.a. selby-bigge, editor). oxford: clarendon press, . takeo doi. amae no kozo. tokyo: kobundo, . translated as the anatomy of dependence by john bester. tokyo/new york: kodansho international and harper & row, . a god for each of us the following books set forth the basic tenets of their respective religions: bhagavad gita: part of the epic poem mahabharata, this sanskrit dialog between krishna and prince arjuna poetically describes a path to spiritual wisdom and unity with god. action, devotion, and knowledge guide on this path. torah: the books of moses (also known as the pentateuch); for chistians, the first five books of the old testament: genesis, exodus, leviticus, numbers, deuteronomy. these describe the origin of the world, the covenant between god and the people of israel, the exodus from egypt and return to the promised land, and rules for religious and social behavior. together with the books labeled prophets and writings, they make up the entire old testament. the controversy among jews, roman catholics, eastern christians, and protestants about the acceptance of some books, the order of books, and translations reflect the different perspectives adopted within these religions. new testament: the christian addition to the bible comprises books. they contain sayings attributed to jesus, his life story (death and resurrection included), the writings of the apostles, rules for conversion and baptism, and the apocalypse (the end of this world and the beginning of a new one). koran (al qur'an): the holy book of the moslems, is composed of chapters (called suras). belief in allah, descriptions of rules for religious and social life, calls to moral life, and vivid descriptions of hell make up most of the text. according to moslem tradition, mohammed ascended the mount an illiterate. he came down with the koran, which allah had taught him to write. i-ching: attributed to confucius, composed of five books, containing a history of his native district, a system for divining the future (book of changes), a description of ceremonies and the ideal government (book of rites), and a collection of poetry. in their unity, all these books affirm principles of cooperation, reciprocal respect, and describe etiquette and ritual rules. mircea eliade, editor-in-chief.the encyclopedia of religion (). new york: macmillan, . mircea eliade (with i. p. couliano and h.s. wiesner). the eliade guide to world religions. san francisco: harper, . eliot alexander. the universal myths: heroes, gods, tricksters, and others. new york: new american library, . p. k. meagher, t.c. o'brien, sister consuelo maria aherne. encyclopedic dictionary of religion. vols. corpus city publications, . in regard to the multiplicity of religions, the following works provide a good reference: john ferguson. gods many and lords many: a study in primal religions. guildford, surrey: lutterworth educational, . suan imm tan. many races, many religions. singapore: educational publications bureau, - . h. byron earhart. religions of japan: many traditions within one sacred way. san francisco: harper & row, . john m. reid. doomed religions. a series of essays on great religions of the world. new york: phillips & hunt, . although no precise statistics are available, it is assumed that ca. three billion people acknowledge religion in our days. the numbers are misleading, though. for instance, only . % of the population in england attends religious services; in germany, the percentage is %; in some moslem countries, service attendance is close to %. the " -day jews" (two days of rosh hashana and day of yom kippur, also known as "revolving door" jews, in for new year and out after atonement day), the christian orthodox and catholics of christmas and easter, and the buddhists of funeral ceremonials belong to the vast majority that refers to religion as a cultural identifier. many priests and higher order ecumenical workers recite their prayers as epic poetry. atheism. the "doctrine that god does not exist, that existence of god is a false belief" (cf. m. eliade, encyclopedia of religion, vol. , pp - ). literature on atheism continuously increases. a selection showing the many angles of atheism can serve as a guide: the american atheist (periodical). austin tx: american atheists. gordon stein, editor. an anthology of atheism and rationalism. buffalo ny: prometheus books, . michael martin. atheism: a philosophical analysis. philadelphia: temple university press, . jacques j. natanson. la mort de dieu: essai sur l'athéisme moderne. paris: presses univérstaires de france, . robert a. morey. the new atheism and the erosion of freedom. minneapolis: bethany house publishers, . james thrower. a short history of western atheism. london: pemberton books, . robert eno. the confucian creation of heaven. philosophy and the defense of ritual mastery. albany: state university of new york press, . ronald l. grimes. research in ritual studies. a programmatic essay and bibliography. chicago: american theological library association; metuchen nj: scarecrow press, . evan m. zuesse. ritual cosmos. the sanctification of life in african religions. athens: ohio university press, . godfrey and monica wilson. the analysis of social change. based on observations in central africa. cambridge: the university press, . "a pagan najakunsa believes himself to be dependent upon his deceased father for health and fertility; he acts as if he were, and expresses his sense of dependence in rituals" (p. ). references for the study of myths are as follows: eliot alexander. the universal myths: heroes, gods, tricksters, and others. new york: new american library, . jane ellen harrison. prolegomena to the study of greek religion. new york: arno press, . walter burkert. ancient mystery cults. cambridge ma: harvard university press, . john ferguson. greek and roman religion: a source book. park ridge nj: noyes press, . arcadio schwade. shinto-bibliography in western languages. leiden: brill, . japanese shintoism began before writing. hinduism: with one of the highest number of followers (ca. million), hinduism is an eclectic religion. indigenous elements and aryan religions, codified around bce in the rig veda, sama veda, yajor veda, atharva veda, aranyakas, upanishads, result in an amalgam of practices and beliefs dominating religious and social life in indiat the caste system classifies members of society in four groups: priests (brahmins), rulers, farmers, and merchants, laborers (on farms or in industry). devotion to a guru, adherence to the vedic scriptures, the practice of yoga are the forms of religious action. the divine trinity of hinduism unites brahma (the creator), vishna (the preserver), and shiva (the destroyer). taoism: in the tao te ching (book of the way and its virtue), one reads: "the tao of origin gives birth to the one. the one gives birth to the two. the two gives birth to the three. the three produces the ten thousand things." with some background in tao, the poetry becomes explicit: the one is the supreme void, primordial breath. this engenders two, yin and yang, the duality from which everything sprung once a ternary relation is established. tao is poetic ontology. confucianism: stressing the relationship among individuals, families, and society, confucianism is based on two percepts: li (proper behavior) and jen (cooperative attitude). confucius expressed the philosophy on which this religion is based on sayings and dialogues during the th- th century bce. challenged by the mysticism of religions (taoism, buddhism) in the area of its inception, some followers incorporated their spirit in new-confucianism (during the period known as the sung dynasty, - ). judaism: centered on the belief in one god, judaism is the religion of the book (the torah), established at around bce by abraham, isaac, and jacob. judaism promotes the idea of human improvement, as well as the messianic thought. strong dedication to community and sense of family are part of the religious practice. islam: the contemporary religion with the highest number of adherents (almost million muslims on record), and growing fast, islam celebrates mohammed, who received the koran from allah. acknowledged at , islam (which means "submission to god") places its prophet in the line started with abraham, continued with moses, and redirected by jesus. the five pillars of islam are: allah is the only god, prayer (facing mecca) five times a day, giving of alms, fast of ramadan, and pilgrimage to mecca. christianity: in its very many denominations (roman catholic, greek orthodox, protestant, which split further into various sects, such as baptist, pentecostal, episcopal, lutheran, mormon, unitarian, quakers), claims to have its origin in jesus christ and completes the old testament of the hebrews with the new testament of the apostles. it is impossible to capture the many varieties of christianity in characteristics unanimously accepted. probably the major celebrations of christianity (some originating in pre-christian pagan rituals related to natural cycles), i.e., christmas and easter, better reflect elements of unity. christianity promotes respect for moral values, dedication to the family, and faith in one god composed of three elements (the trinity: father, son, and holy spirit). bahai of bahá'i: ascertains the unity of all religious doctrines as these embody ideals of spiritual truth. the name comes from baha ullah (glory of god), adopted by its founder mirza husain ali nuri, in , in extension of the al-bab religion. universal education, equality between male and female, and world order and peace are its goals. the religion is estimated to have million adherents world-wide. richard wilhelm. i ging; das buch der wandlungen. düsseldorf/köln: diedrichs, . wilhelm states that, in the context described, fuh-hi emerged: "he reunited man and woman, ordered the five elements and set the laws of mankind. he drew eight signs in order to dominate the world." the eight signs are the eight basic trigrams of i ging, the book of changes (which attracted leibniz's attention). king frederick barbarossa (frederick i of the holy roman empire, - ). well known for challenging the authority of the pope and for attempting to establish german supremacy in religious matters. joan of arc ( - ). a plowman's daughter who, as the story goes, listened to the voices of saints michael, catherine, and margaret. thus inspiring the french to victory over british invaders, she made possible the coronation of charles ii at reims. captured by the english, she was declared a heretic and burned at the stake. in , pope benedict xv declared her a saint. jan hus ( - ). religious reformer whose writings exercised influence over all the catholic world. in de ecclesia, he set forth that scripture is the sole source of christian doctrine. martin luther ( - ). a priest from saxony, a scholar of scripture, and a linguist, who is famous for having attacked clerical abuses. through his writings (the theses), he precipitated the reformation. moslem armies defeated the forces of the holy roman empire, led by charles martel, at poitiers (cf. j.h. roy, la bataille de poitiers, octobre , paris: gallimard, ). crusades: a series of military expeditions taking place from to ) intent on reclaiming jerusalem and the holy christian shrines from turkish control. david kirsch poses the questions: is % of human activity concept-free, driven by control mechanisms we share not only with our simian forebears, but with insects? (today the earwig, tomorrow the man? in artificial intelligence, : - , jan. , p. ). the bible on cd-rom is a publication of nimbus information systems ( ). the cd-word interactive biblical library ( ), published by the cd-word library, inc. offers of the world's most used bible texts and reference sources (two greek texts, four english versions). secular god-building in the soviet union: ob ateizme i religii. sbornik statei, pisem i drughich materialov (about atheism and religion. collected articles, letters, and other materials) by anatoli vasilevich lunacharskii ( - ), moscow: mysl, . this is a collection of articles on atheism and religion, part of the scientific-atheistic library. see also maxim gorky, untimely thoughts (translated by herman erolaev). new york: p.s. ericksson, . ernest gellner, scale and nation, in scale and social organization (f. barth, editor). "max weber stressed the significance of the way in which protestantism made every man his own priest" (p. ). glen tinder. can we be good without god? in atlantic monthly, december, . michael lewis. god is in the packaging, in the new york times magazine, july , , pp. and . lewis describes pastors using marketing techniques to form congregations. the success of the method has led to branch congregations all over the usa. tademan isobe, author of the japanese and religion, states: "the general religious awareness of the japanese does not include an ultimate god with human attributes, as the god of christianity. instead, japanese sense the mystery of life from all events and natural phenomena around them in their daily lives. they have what might be called a sense of pathos" (cf. web positing of august, , http://www.ariadne.knee.kioto-u.ac.jp). a mouthful of microwave from a strictly qualitative perspective, the amount of food people eat is represented by numbers so large that we end up looking at them in awe, without understanding what they mean. the maintenance of life is an expensive proposition. nevertheless, once we go beyond the energetic equation, i.e., in the realm of desires, the numbers increase exponentially. it can be argued that this increase (of an order of magnitude of , ) is higher than that anticipated by malthus. on the subject of what, how, and why people eat, see: claudio clini. l'alimentazione nella storia. uomo, alimentazione, malattie. abano terme, padova: francisci, . evan jones. american food. the gastronomic story. woodstock ny: overlook press, . nicholas and giana kurti, editors. but the crackling is superb. an anthology on food and drink by fellows and foreign members of the royal society. bristol, england: a. hilger, . carol a. bryant, et al. the cultural feast. an introduction to food and society. st. paul: west publishing co., . hilary wilson. egyptian food and drink. aylesbury, bucks, england: shire, . reay tannahill. food in history. new york: stein and day, . charles bixler heiser. seed to civilization. the story of food. cambridge ma: harvard university press, . margaret visser. much depends on dinner. the extraordinary history and mythology, allure and obsessions, perils and taboos, of an ordinary meal. toronto, ont.: mcclelland and stewart, . esther b. aresty. the delectable past. the joys of the table, from rome to the renaissance, from queen elizabeth i to mrs. beeton. indianapolis: bobbs-merrill, . maria p. robbins, editor. the cook's quotation book. a literary feast. wainscott ny: pushcart press, . the pleasures of the table (compiled by theodore fitzgibbon). new york: oxford university press, . charles dickens. american notes. new york: st. martin's press, . (pp. - ). on the symbolism of food, informative reading can be found in: carol a. bryant. the cultural feast: an introduction to food and society. st. paul: west publishing co., . lindsey tucker. stephen and bloom at life's feast: alimentary symbolism and the creative process in james joyce's ulysses. columbus: ohio state university press, . in l'aile ou la cuisse (wing or drumstick), a french film directed by claude zidi, luis de funés became, as the french press put it, "the napoleon of gastronomy" fighting the barbarian taste of industrial food, seen as a real danger to the authentic taste of france. at the initiative of the minister of culture, a conseil national des arts culinaires (cnac) was founded in . culinary art and gastronomic heritage were made part of the french national identity. awakening of taste (le reveil du goût) is a program launched in the elementary schools. a curriculum originating from the french institute of taste is used to explain what makes french food taste good. the cnac provides a nationwide inventory of local foods. a university of taste (centre de goût) would be established in the loire valley. jean bottero. mythes et rites de babylone. paris: librairie honoré champion, . reallexikon der assyriologie. vol. iii, getränke (drinks), pp. - ; gewürze (spices), pp. - ; vol. vi, küche (cuisine), pp. - . berlin/new york, walter de gruyter, . la plus vieille cuisine du monde, in l'histoire, , , pp. - . m. gabeus apicius. de re conquinaria (rendered into english by joseph sommers vehling, new york: dover publications, ) first appeared in england in , in a latin version, based on the manuscripts of this work dating to the th and th centuries. apicius was supposed to have lived from bce to ce. this book has since been questioned as a hoax, although it remains a reference text. lucius junius moderatus columella. de re rustica. ( volumes on agriculture. latin text with german translation by will richter). münchen: artemis verlag, . roland barthes. empire of signs. new york: hill and wang. . (originally published in french as l'empire des signes, geneva: editions d'art albert skira, s.a. "the dinner tray seems a picture of the most delicate order: its frame containing, against a dark background, various objects (bowls, boxes, saucers, chopsticks, tiny piles of food, a little gray ginger, a few shreds of orange vegetable, a background of brown sauce)...it might be said that these trays fulfill the definition of painting which according to piero della francesca is merely demonstration of surfaces and bodies becoming even smaller or larger according to their term" (p. ). "entirely visual (conceived, concerted, manipulated for sight, and even for a painter's eye), food thereby says that it is not deep: the edible substance is without a precious heart, without a buried power, without a vital secret: no japanese dish is endowed with a center (the alimentary center implied in the west by the rite which consists of arranging the meal, of surrounding or covering the article of food); here everything is the ornament of another ornament: first of all because on the table, on the tray, food is never anything but a collection of fragments, none of which appears privileged by an order of ingestion; to eat is not to respect a menu (an itinerary of dishes), but to select, with a light touch of the chopsticks, sometimes one color, sometimes another, depending on the kind of inspiration which appears in its slowness as the detached, indirect accompaniment of the conversation...." (p. ). the writings of the various religions (koran, torah, new testament) contain strictures and ceremonial rules concerning food. for cooking and eating restrictions in various cultures, see nourritures, sociétés et religions: commensalités (introduction by solange thierry). paris: l'harmattan, . on the microwave revolution in cooking, see: lori longbotham. better by microwave. new york: dutton, . maria luisa scott. mastering microwave cooking. mount vernon ny: consumers union, . eric quayle. old cook books: an illustrated history. new york: dutton. ; and daniel s. cutler. the bible cookbook. new york: morrow, , offer a good retrospective of what people used to eat. in world hunger. a reference handbook (patricia l. kutzner, santa barbara ca: abc-clio, ), the author gives a stark description of the problem of hunger in today's world: "with more than enough food in the world to feed everyone, hundreds of millions of men, women, and children still go hungry" (p. ix). it is not the first time in history that starvation and famine affect people all over the world. what is new is the scale of the problem, affecting well over one billion human beings. in june, , in the assessment of the world food situation, commissioned by the united nations economic and social council, the situation was described in terms still unchanged: "the causes of inadequate nutrition are many and closely interrelated, including ecological, sanitary, and cultural constraints, but the principal cause is poverty. this in turn results from socioeconomic development patterns that in most of the poorer countries have been characterized by a high degree of concentration of power, wealth, and incomes in the hands of relatively small elites of national and foreign individuals or groups. [...] the percentage of undernourished is highest in africa, the far east, and latin america; the hunger distribution is highest in the far east (in the range of %). of the hungry, the majority (up to %) is in rural areas. data is collected and managed by the world food council. the bellagio declaration, overcoming hunger in the 's, adopted by a group of prominent development and food policy planners, development practitioners, and scientists noticed that million children under the age of five years die annually from hunger related causes. among the organizations created to help feed the world are care, food for peace, oxfam, action hunger, the hunger project, save the children, world vision, the heifer project. this list does not include the many national and local organizations that feed the hungry in their respective countries and cities. science and philosophy: more questions than answers t.s. elliot. burnt norton, in v. four quartets. london: faber & faber, . for information on the development of science and philosophy in early civilizations, see: shigeru nakayama and nathan sivin, editors. chinese science: exploration of an ancient tradition. cambridge: mit press, . karl w. butzer. early hydraulic civilization in egypt: a study in cultural ecology. chicago: university of chicago press, . heinrich von staden. herophilus: the art of medicine in early alexandria. cambridge/new york: cambridge university press, . the cultural heritage of india, (in volumes). calcutta: ramakrishna mission, institute of culture, . james h. maclachlan. children of prometheus: a history of science and technology. toronto: wall & thompson, . isaac asimov. asimov's biographical encyclopedia of science and technology. the lives and achievements of great scientists from ancient times to the present. garden city ny: doubleday, . fritz kraft. geschichte der naturwissenschaft. freiberg: romback, . g.e.r. lloyd. methods and problems in greek science cambridge university press, . robert k.g. temple. china, land of discovery. london: patrick stephens, . temple documents discoveries and techniques such as row cultivation and hoeing ("there are inches of moisture at the end of a hoe,"), the iron plow, the horse harness, cast iron, the crank handle, lacquer ("the first plastic"), the decimal system, the suspension bridge as originating from china. in the introduction, joseph needham writes: "chauvinistic westerners, of course, always try to minimize the indebtedness of europe to china in antiquity and the middle ages" (p. ). what is of interest in the story is the fact that all these discoveries occur in a context of configurational focus, of synthesis, not in the sequential horizon of analytic western languages. in some cases, the initial non-linear thought is linearized. this is best exemplified by comparing chinese printing methods, intent on letters seen as images, with those following gutenberg's movable type. obviously, a text perceived as a holistic entity, such as the buddhist charm scroll (printed in - ) or the buddhist diamond sutra of (cf. p. ) are different from the bibles printed by gutenberg and his followers. contributions to the history of science from india and the middle east also reveal that many discoveries celebrated as accomplishments of western analytical science were anticipated in non-analytical cultures. satya prakash. founders of science in ancient india. dehli: govindram hasanand, . g. kuppuram and k. kumudamani, editors. history of science and technology in india. dehli: sundeep prakashan, . seyyed hossein nasr. islamic science. persia. tihran: surush, . charles finch. the african background to medical science: essays in african history, science, and civilization. london: karnak house, . magic, myth, and science influence each other in many ways. writings on the subject refer to specific aspects (magic and science, myth as a form of rational discourse) or to the broader issues of their respective epistemological condition. richard cavendish. a history of magic. london: weidenfeld & nicholson, . gareth knight. magic and the western mind: ancient knowledge and the transformation of consciousness. st. paul: llewellyn publications, . umberto eco. foucault's pendulum. new york: harcourt, brace jovanovich, . in this novel, umberto eco deals, in a light vein, with the occult considered as the true science. jean malbec de tresfel. abrège de la théorie et des véritables principes de l'art appelé chymie, qui est la troisième partie ou colonne de la vraye medecine hermetique. paris: chez l'auteur, . adam mclean. the alchemical mandala. a survey of the mandala in the western esoteric traditions. grand rapids, mi: phanes press, . titus burckhardt. alchemie, sinn und weltbild. london: stuart & watkins, . translated as alchemy. science of the cosmos, science of the soul, by william stoddart. longmead/shaftesbury/dorest: element books, . marie louise von franz. alchemy. an introduction to the symbolism and the psychology. toronto: inner city books, . neil powell. alchemy. the ancient science. garden city, ny: doubleday, . stanislas klossowski de rola. alchemy. the secret art. london: thames and hudson, . j.c. cooper. chinese alchemy. the taoist quest for immortality. wellingborough, northamptonshire: aquarian press, . robert zoller. the arabic parts in astrology. the lost key to prediction. rochester, vt: inner traditions international (distributed by harper & row), . dane rudhyar. an astrological mandala. the cycle of transformation and its symbolic phases. st ed. new york: random house, . cyril fagan. astrological origins. st. paul: llewellyn publications, . percy seymour. astrology. the evidence of science. luton, bedfordshire: lennard, . rodney davies. fortune-telling by astrology. the history and practice of divination by the stars. wellingborough, northamptonshire: aquarian press, . "astrological herbalism distinguished seven planetary plants, twelve herbs associated with signs of the zodiac and thirty-six plants assigned to decantates and to horoscopes" cf. lévi-strauss, le cru et le cuit, p. . ruth drayer. numerology. the language of life. el paso, tx: skidmore-roth publications, . albert einstein ( - ) nobel prize laureate, . he discusses the conditions of existence for which we are not adjusted in Über den frieden, weltordnung und weltuntergang (o. norden and h. norden, editors.), bern. , p. . in a letter to jacques hadamard ( ), einstein explained: "the words of the language, as they are written or spoken, do not seem to play any role in my mechanisms of thought. the physical entities which seem to serve as elements in thought are certain signs and more or less clear images which can be 'voluntarily' reproduced or combined" cf. a testimonial from professor einstein, in the psychology of invention in the mathematical field, edited by j. hadamard, princeton: princeton university press, , p. . raymond kurzweil, the age of intelligent machines, cambridge: mit press, . "rather than defining intelligence in terms of its constituent processes, we might define it in terms of its goal: the ability to use symbolic reasoning in the pursuit of a goal" (p. ). alan bundy, the computer modelling of mathematical reasoning. new york: academic press, . allan ramsey. formal methods in artificial intelligence. cambridge/new york: cambridge university press, . m. reinfrank, editor. non-monotonic reasoning: second international workshop. berlin/new york: springer verlag, . titus lucretius carus. de rerum natura (edited with translation and commentary by john godwin). warminster, wiltshire, england: aris & phillips, . -. the nature of things. trans. frank o. copley. st ed. new york: norton., . epicurus, called by timon "the last of the natural philosophers," was translated by lucretius into latin. his letter to herodotus and master sayings (kyriai doxai) were integrated in de rerum natura (on nature). a good reference book is clay diskin's lucretius and epicurus, ithaca: cornell university press, . galileo galilei. discorsi e dimostrazioni matematiche (two new sciences: including centers of gravity and force of percussion, translated, with a new introduction and notes, by stillman drake). toronto: wall & thompson, . -. galileo's early notebooks. the physical questions (translated from the latin, with historical and paleographical commentary, by william a. wallace). notre dame in: university of notre dame press, . starting out as a dictionnaire raisonné of the sciences, the arts, and crafts, the encyclopédie became a major form of philosophic expression in the th century. philosophers dedicated themselves to the advancement of the sciences and secular thought, and to the social program of the enlightenment. the encyclopédie showcased new directions of thought in all branches of intellectual activity. the emergent values corresponding to the pragmatic condition of time, tolerance, innovation, and freedom, were expressed in the encyclopedic writings and embodied in the political program of the revolutions it inspired. one of the acknowledged sources of this orientation is ephraim chamber's cyclopedia (or an universal dictionary of arts and sciences), london, . the examination of star naming is in some ways an exercise in the geology of pragmatic contexts. the acknowledgment of what is high, over, above, and beyond the observer's actions suggested power. the sequence of day and night, of seasons, of the changing weather is a mixture of repetitive patterns and unexpected occurrences, even meteorites, some related to wind, fire, water. once the shortest and the longest days are observed, and the length of day equal to that of night (the equinox), the sky becomes integrated in the pragmatics of human self-constitution by virtue of affecting cycles of work. furthermore, parallel to the mytho-magical explanation of what happens follows the association of mythical characters, mainly to stars. saturn, or chronos, was the god of time, a star known for its steady movement; jupiter, known by the egyptians as ammon, the most impressive planet, and apparently the biggest. details of this geology of naming could lead to a book. here are some of the names used: mythomagical: mercury, venus, mars, jupiter, uranus, pluto; zodiacal: gemini, capricorn, sagittarius, scorpio, etc. space: limitless, -dimensional, in which objects exist, events occur, movement takes place. objects have relative positions and their movement has relative directions. the geometric notion of space expands beyond -dimensionality. paradigm: since the time thomas kuhn published the structure of scientific revolutions ( ), the concept of paradigm was adopted in philosophic jargon. the underlying thesis is that science operates in a research space dominated by successive research models, or paradigms. the domination of such a paradigm does not make it more important than previous scientific explanations (paradigms are not comparable). rather it effects a certain convergence in the unifying framework it ascertains. logos: ancient greek for word, was many times defined, almost always partially, as a means to express thoughts. by generalization, logos became similar to thought or reason, and thus a way to control the word through speech (legein). in this last sense, logos was adapted by christianity as the word of divinity. for a description of holism, see holism-a philosophy for today, by harry settanni (new york: p. lang, ). techné: from the greek, means "pertaining to the making of artifacts" (art objects included). francis bacon ( - ): statesman and philosopher, distinguished for establishing the empiric methods for scientific research. intent on analytical tools, he set out methods of induction which proved to be effective in the distinction between scientific and philosophical research. in the advancement of learning ( ) and especially novum organum ( ), bacon set forth principles that affected the development of modern science. rené descartes ( - ): probably one of the most influential philosophers and scientists, whose contribution, at a time of change and definition, marked western civilization in many ways. the cartesian dualism he developed ascertains a physical (res extensa) and a thinking (res cogitans) substance. the first is extended, can be measured and divided; the second is indivisible. the body is part of res extensa, the mind (including thoughts, desires, volition) is res cogitans. his rules for the direction of the understanding ( ), influenced by his mathematical concerns, submitted a model for the acquisition of knowledge. the method of doubt, i.e., rejection of everything not certain, expressed in the famous discourse on method ( ), together with the foundation of a model of science that combines a mechanic image of the universe described mathematically, are part of his legacy. edwin a. abbot. flatland. a romance of many dimensions. by a square. a broad-minded square guides the reader through a -dimensional space. high priests (circular figures) forbid discussing a third dimension. abruptly, the square is transported into spaceland and peers astonished into his -dimensional homeland. spatial reasoning: a type of reasoning that incorporates the experience of space either in direct forms (geometric reasoning) or indirectly (through terms such as close, remote, among others). linearity: relation among dependent phenomena that can be described through a linear function. non-linearity: relations among dependent phenomena that cannot be described through a linear function, but through exponential and logarithmic functions, among others. jackson e. atlee. perspectives of non-linear dynamics. cambridge/new york: cambridge university press, . s. neil rasband. chaotic dynamics of non-linear systems. new york: wiley, . coherence: the notion that reflects interest in how parts of a whole are connected. of special interest is the coherence of knowledge. ralph c.s. walker. the coherence theory of truth: realism, anti-realism, idealism. london/new york: routledge, . alan h. goldman. moral knowledge. london/new york: routledge, . a major survey, focused on the contributions of keith lehrer and laurence bon jour, was carried out in the current state of the coherence theory. critical essays on the epistemic theories of keith lehrer and laurence bon jour, with replies (john w. bender, editor, dordrecht/boston: kluwer academic publishers, ). david kirsch. foundations of artificial intelligence. (a special volume of the journal artificial intelligence, : - , january . amsterdam: elsevier. self-organization is a dominant topic in artificial life research. the annual conference on artificial life (santa fe) resulted in a proceedings in which self-organization is amply discussed. some aspects pertinent to the subject can be found in: h. haken. advanced synergetics: instability hierarchies of self-organizing systems and devices. berlin/new york: springer verlag, . p.c.w. davies. the cosmic blueprint. london: heinemann, . g. m. whitesides. self-assembling materials, in nanothinc, . http://www.nanothinc.com/webmaster @nanothinc.com more information on self-assembling materials and nanotechnology can be found on the internet at http://www.nanothinc.com/webmaster @nanothinc.com and at http://www.foresight.org/webmaster@foresight.org. richard feynman, in a talk given in , stated that "the principles of physics...do not speak against the possibility of maneuvering things atom by atom. [...] the problems of chemistry and biology can be greatly helped if our ability to...do things on an atomic level is ultimately developed, a developmet which i think cannot be avoided." (cf. http://www.foresight.org). preston prather. science education and the problem of scientific enlightenment, in science education, : , . the money invested in science is a slippery subject. while direct funds, such as those made available through the national science foundation, are rather scarce, funding through various government agencies (defense, agriculture, energy, nasa) and through private sources amounts to hundreds of billions of dollars. how much of this goes to fundamental research and how much to applied science is not very clear, as even the distinction between fundamental and applied is less and less clear. ernst mach. the science of mechanics ( ). trans. t.j. mccormick. lasalle, il: open court, . henri poincaré. the foundations of science ( ). trans. g.b. halsted. new york: the science press, . n.p. cambell. foundations of science ( ). new york: dover, . bas c. van fraasen. the scientific image. oxford: clarendon press, . richard dawkins. the selfish gene. new york: oxford university press, . -. the extended phenotype. new york: oxford university press, . elan moritz, of the institute for memetic research, provides the historic and methodological background to the subject in introduction to memetic science. e.o. wilson. sociobiology: the new synthesis. cambridge: belknap/harvard university press, . mihai nadin. mind-anticipation and chaos (from the series milestones in thought and discovery). stuttgart/zurich: belser presse, . -. the art and science of multimedia, in real-time imaging (p. laplante & a. stoyenko, editors). piscataway nj: ieee press, january, . -. negotiating the world of make-believe: the aesthetic compass, in real-time imaging. london: academic press, . "philosophers have only interpreted the world in various ways; the point is to change it," karl marx (cf. theses on feuerbach (from notebooks of - ). see also writings of the young marx on philosophy and society, garden city ny: anchor books, , p. . paul k. feyerabend. against method. outline of an anarchistic theory of knowledge. london: verson edition, . -. three dialogues on knowledge. oxford, england/cambridge ma: blackwell, . imre lakatos. philosophical papers, in two volumes (edited by john worrall and gregory currie). cambridge, england/new york: cambridge university press, . -. proofs and refutations. the logic of mathematical discovery (john worrall and elie zahar, editors). cambridge, england/new york: cambridge university press, . multivalued logic: expands beyond the truth and falsehood of sentences, handling the many values of the equivocal or the ambiguous. charles s. peirce ascertained that all necessary reasoning is mathematical reasoning, and that all mathematical reasoning is diagrammatic. he explained diagrammatic reasoning as being based on a diagram of the percept expressed and on operations on the diagram. the visual nature of a diagram ("composed of lines, or an array of signs...") affects the nature of the operations performed on it (cf. on the algebra of logic: a contribution to the philosophy of notation, in the american journal of mathematics, : - , ). brockman, john. the third culture: beyond the scientific revolution. (a collection of essays with introduction written by john brockman.) new york: simon & schuster. here are some quotations from the contributors: brockman maintains that there is a shift occurring in public discourse, with scientists supplanting philosophers, artists, and people of letters as the ones who render "visible the deeper meanings of our lives, redefining who and what we are." "we're at the stage where things change on the order of decades, and it seems to be speeding up...." (danny hillis) auguste compte, in whose works the thought of positivism is convincingly embodied, attracted the attention of john stuart mill, who wrote the positive philosophy of auguste compte (boston: lee and shepard, ). some of compte's early writings are reproduced in the crisis of industrial civilization (ronald fletcher, editor, london: heinemann educational, ). stefano poggi. introduzione al il positivisma. bari: laterza, . sybil de acevedo. auguste compte: qui êtes-vous? lyons: la manufacture, . emil durkheim. de la division du travail social. e ed. paris: presses univérsitaires de france, . (translated as the division of labor in society by w.d. halls, new york: free press, . durkheim applied darwin's natural selection to labor division. herbert spencer ( - ): very well known for his essay, progress: its laws and cause ( ), attempted to conceive a theory of society based on naturalist principles. what he defined as the "super- organic," which stands for social, is subjected to evolution. in his view, societies undergo, cycles of birth- climax-death. productive power varies from one cycle to other (cf. principles of sociology, - ). art(ifacts) and aesthetic processes art speigelman. maus. a survivor's tale. new york: pantheon books, ; and maus ii: a survivor's tale-and here my troubles began. new york pantheon books, . started as a comic strip (in raw, an experimental comix magazine, co-edited by speigelman and françoise monly) on the subject of the holocaust, maus became a book and, on its completion, the museum of modern art in new york dedicated a show to the artist. over interlocking drawings tell the story of vladek, the artist's father. the comic book convention was questioned as to its appropriateness for the tragic theme. milli vanilli, the group that publicly acknowledged that the album girl you know it's true, for which it was awarded the grammy for best new artist of , was vocally interpreted by someone else. the prize winners, fab morvan and rob pilatus, credited for the vocals, were hardly the first to take advantage of the new means for creating the illusion of interpretation. as the 'visual entertainment," they became the wrapper on a package containing the music of less video-reputed singers. their producer, frank tarian (i.e., franz reuther) was on his second "fake." ten years earlier, he revealed that the pop group boney m. was his own "mouthpiece." image-driven pop music sells the fantasy of teen idol to a musically illiterate public. packaged music extends to simulations of instruments and orchestras as well. beauty and the beast is the story of a handsome prince in th century france turned into an eight-foot tall, hideous, hairy beast. unless he finds someone to love him before his st birthday, the curse cast upon him by the old woman he tried to chase away will become permanent. in a nearby village, maurice, a lovable eccentric inventor, his daughter belle, who keeps her nose in books and her head in the clouds, and gaston, the macho of the place, go through the usual "he (gaston) loves/wants her; she does not care for/shuns him, etc." as its th full-length animation, this walt disney picture is a musical fairy tale that takes advantage of sophisticated computer animation. its over one million drawings (the work of animators, artists, and technicians) are animated, some in sophisticated -dimensional computer animation. the technological performance, resulting from an elaborate database, provided attractive numbers, such as the be our guest sequence (led by the enchanted candelabra, teapot, and clock characters, entire chorus lines of dancing plates, goblets, and eating utensils perform a musical act), or the emotional ballroom sequence. everything is based on the accepted challenge: "ok, go ahead and fool us," once upon a time uttered by some art director to the computer-generated imagery specialists of the company. the story (by mme. leprince de beaumont) inspired jean cocteau, who wrote the screenplay for (and also directed) la belle et la bête ( ), featuring jean marais, josette day, and marcel andré. anselm kiefer (b. ). seduced by the relation to history, he produces allegories in reference to myth, art, religion, and culture. his compositions are strongly evocative, not lacking a certain critical dimension, sometimes focused on art itself, which repeatedly failed during times of challenge (those of nazi germany included). terminator is a movie about two cyborgs who come from the future, one to destroy, the other to protect, a boy who will affect the future when he grows up. it is reported to be the most expensive film made as of (over characters are killed), costing to million dollars; cf. stanley kauffmann, the new republic, august , , pp. - . kitsch: defined in dictionaries as gaudy, trash, pretentious, shallow art expression addressing a low, unrefined taste. kitsch-like images are used as ironic devices in artworks critical of the bourgeois taste. the relation between art and language occasioned a major show organized by the société des expositions du palais de beaux-arts in brussels. a catalogue was edited by jan debbant and patricia holm (paris: galerie de paris; london: lisson gallery; new york: marian goodman gallery). georg wilhelm friedrich hegel ( - ). Ästhetik (hrsg. von friedrich bassenge). berlin: verlag das europäische buch, . dadaism: hans arp defined dada as "the nausea caused by the foolish rational explanation of the world" ( , zurich). richard huelsenbeck stated that "dada cannot be understood, it must be experienced" ( ). more on this subject can be found in: raoul hausmann. am anfang war dada. (hrsg. von karl riha & gunter kampf). steinbach/giessen: anabas-verlag g. kampf, . serge lemoine. dada. paris: hazan, . dawn ades. dada and surrealism reviewed. london: arts council of great britain, . hans bollinger, et al. dada in zurich. zurich: kunsthaus zurich, . walter benjamin. art in the age of its mechanical reproduction is a translation of das kunstwerk im zeitalter seiner technischen reproduzierbarkeit: drei studien zur kunstsoziologie. frankfurt/main: suhrkamp verlag, . walter de maria's lightning field project was carried out with the support of the dia art foundation, which bought the land and maintains and allows for limited public access to the work. as the prototypical example of land-art, this lattice of lightning rods covers an area of one mile by one kilometer. filled with rods placed equidistantly, the lightning field is the interplay between precision and randomness. during the storm season in new mexico, the work is brought to life by many bolts of lightning. the artist explained that "light is as important as lightening." indeed, during its -hour cycle, the field goes through a continuous metamorphosis. nature and art interact in fascinating ways. christo's latest work was entitled wrapped reichstag, berlin, july . regarding christo's many ambitious projects, some references are: erich himmel, editor. christo. the pont-neuf wrapped, paris - . new york: abrams, . christo: the umbrellas. joint project for japan and the usa, may - june, . london: annely juda fine art, . christo: surrounded islands. köln: dumont buch verlag, . christo: wrapped walkways, loose park, kansas city, missouri, - . new york: h.n. abrams, . christo: valley curtain, riffle, colorado. new york: h.n. abrams, . the bauhaus, a school of arts and crafts, founded in in weimar, by walter gropius. its significance results from the philosophy of education expressed in the bauhaus program, to which distinguished artists contributed, and from the impressive number of people who, after studying at the bauhaus, affirmed its methods and vision in worlds of art, architecture, and new educational programs. among the major themes at bauhaus were the democratization of artistic creation (one of the last romantic ideas of our time), the social implication of art, and the involvement of technology. collaborative, interdisciplinary efforts were encouraged; the tendency to overcome cultural and national boundaries was tirelessly pursued; the rationalist attitude became the hallmark of all who constituted the school. in , the bauhaus had to move to dessau, where it remained until , before it settled in berlin. after gropius, the architects hans mayer ( - ) and mies van der rohe ( - ) worked on ascertaining the international style intended to offer visual coherence and integrity. in some ways, the bauhaus was continued in the usa, since many of its personalities and students had to emigrate from nazi germany and found safe haven in the usa. leon battista alberti ( th century) wrote extensively on painting and sculpture: de pictura and de statua were translated by cecil grayson (london: phaidon, ). alberti's writings on the art of building, de re aedificatoria, was translated by joseph rykwert, neil leach, and robert tavernor ( volumes, cambridge ma: mit press, ). marcel duchamp ( - ). intently against those who were "intoxicated by turpentine," he pursued a "dry art." from the nu descendant un escalier, considered "an explosion in a fireworks factory" to his celebrated ready-mades, duchamp pursued the call to "de-artify" art. selection became the major operation in offering objects taken out of context and appropriating them as aesthetic icons. he argued that "art is a path to regions where neither time nor space dominate." happening: an artistic movement based on the interaction among different forms of expression. allan kaprow (at douglas college in ) and the group associated with the reuben gallery in new york (kaprow, jim dine, claes oldenburg, whitman, hausen) brought the movement to the borderline where distinctions between the artist and the public are erased. later, the movement expanded to europe. andy warhol. the philosophy of andy warhol: from a to b and back again. new york: harcourt brace jovanovich, . -. strong opinions. new york: mcgraw hill, . andy warhol is remembered for saying that in the future, everyone will be a celebrity for minutes. vladimir (vladimirovich) nabokov. lectures on literature. edited by fredson bowers, introduction by john updike. new york: harcourt brace jovanovich, - . "a rose is a rose is a rose...," now quite an illustrious (if not trite) line, originated in gertrude stein's poem sacred emily. but "...a rose by any other name/would smell as sweet." from shakespeares romeo and juliet can be seen as a precursor. symbolism is a neo-romantic art movement of the end of the th century, in reaction to the industrial revolution and positivist attitudes permeating art and existence. writers such as beaudelaire, rimbaud, maeterlinck, huysmans, composers (wagner, in the first place), painters such as gauguin, ensor, puvis de chavannes, moreau, and odilon redon created in the spirit of symbolism. at the beginning of the th century, symbolism attempted to submit a unified alphabet of images. jung went so far as to identify its psychological basis. james joyce ( - ). ulysses. a critical and synoptic (though very controviersial) edition, prepared by hans walter gabler with wolfgang steppe and claus melchior. new york: garland publishers, . antoine furetière. essais d'un dictionnaire universel. geneva: slatkine reprints, (reprint of the original published in in amsterdam under the same title). antonio gramsci ( - ). pagine de gramsci. a cura di giansiro ferrata e niccolo gallo. milano: il saggiatore, . -. gramsci: selections from cultural writings. (edited by david forgacs and geoffrey newell-smith; translated by william boelhower). cambridge ma: harvard university press, . -. le ceneri di gramsci. milano: garzanti, . pier paolo pasolini ( - ). turc al friul. traduzione e introduzione di giancarlo bocotti. munich: instituto italian di cultura, . ken kesey. the further inquiry. photographs by ron bevirt. new york: viking penguin, . gustave flaubert ( - ). madame bovary. paris: gallimard, . -. madame bovary. patterns of provincial life. (translated, with a new introduction by francis steegmuller). new york: modern library, . donald barthelme. amateurs. new york: farrar, strauss, giroux, . -. the king. new york: harper & row, . -. the slightly irregular fire engine or the hithering thithering djinn. new york: farrar, strauss, giroux, . kurt vonnegut. breakfast of champions or, goodbye blue monday! new york: delacorte press, . -. galapagos. a novel. new york: delacorte press, . -. fates worse than death. an autobiographical collage of the 's. new york: g.p. putnam's, . john barth. chimera. new york: random house, . -. the literature of exhaustion and the literature of replenishment. northridge ca: lord john press, . -. sabbatical. a romance. new york: putnam, . william h. gass. fiction and the figures of life. new york: knopf, . -. habitations of the word: essays. new york: simon and schuster, . -. in the heart of the heart of the country and other stories. new york: harper & row, . gary percesepe. what's eating william gass?, in mississippi review, . gertrude stein's writing technique is probably best exemplified by her own writing. how to write, initially published in in paris (plain editions), states provocatively that "clarity is of no importance because nobody listens and nobody knows what you mean no matter what you mean nor how clearly you mean what you mean." in an interview with robert haas, ) in afterword, gertrude stein stated that "any human being putting down words had to make sense out of them," (p. ). "i write with my eyes not with my ears or mouth," (p. ). moreover: "my writing is as clear as mud, but mud settles and clear streams run on and disappear." gertrude stein. how to write (with a new preface by patricia meyerowitz). new york: dover publications, . the author shows that "the innovative works of an artist are explorations" (p.vi). -. useful knowledge. barrytown ny: station hill press, . -. what are masterpieces? new york: pitman publishing corp., (reprint of edition). edmund carpenter. they became what they beheld. new york: outerbridge and dienstfrey/ballentine, . the author maintains that the book became the organizing principle for all existence, a model for achieving bureaucracy. it seems that the first comic strip in america was the yellow kid, by richard f. outcault, in the new york world, . among the early comic strips: george harriman's krazy kat (held as an example of american dadaism); windsor mckay's little nemo in slumberland; milton caniff's terry and the pirated. filippo tommaso marinetti ( - ). il futurismo was written in as the preface to a volume of his poetry and was published in . its manifesto was set forth in the words "we declare that the splendor of the world has been increased by a new beauty: the beauty of speed." breaking with the livresque past, the italian futurism took it upon itself to "liberate this land from the fetid cancer of professors, archaeologists, guides, and antiquarians." the break with the past was a break with its values as these were rooted in literate culture. dziga vertov (born denis arkadievich kaufman, - ). became known through his innovative montage juxtaposition, about which he wrote in kino-glas (kino-eye). the film we ( ) is a fantasy of movement. kino-pravda ( - ) were documentaries of extreme expressionism, with very rich visual associations. experiments in simultaneity are also experiments in the understanding of the need to rethink art as a representation of dynamic events. michail fyodorovich larionov ( - ). russian-born french painter and designer, a pioneer in abstract painting, after many experiences in figurative art and with a declared obsession with the aesthetic experience of simultaneity. founder of the rayonist movement-together with his wife, natalia goncharova ( - ), painter, stage designer, and sculptor-larionov went from a neo-primitive painting style to cubism and futurism in order to finally synthesize them in a style reflecting the understanding of the role of light (in particular, as rays). his portrait of tatline ( ) is witness to the synthesis that rayonism represented. fernand léger ( - ). machine aesthetics, . "la vitesse est la loi de la vie moderne." (speed is the modern law of life.) libraries, books, readers in his introduction to a carlyle reader, (cambridge university press, ), g.b. tennyson is unequivocal in his appreciation: "no one who hopes to understand the nineteenth century in england can dispense with carlyle," (p. xiv). since nineteenth century england is of such relevance to major developments in the civilization of literacy, one can infer that tennyson's thought applies to persons trying to understand the emergence and consolidation of literacy. thomas carlyle ( - ) wrote signs of times. (he took the title from the new testament, matthew : , "o ye hypocrites, ye can discern the face of the sky, but can ye not discern the sign of the times?") he condemns his age in the following terms: "were we required to characterize this age of ours by any single epithet, we should be tempted to call it, not a heroical, devotional, philosophical, or moral age. it is the age of machinery, in every outward and inward sense of that word; the age which, with its whole undivided might, forwards, teaches and practises the great art of adapting means to ends. nothing is done directly, or by hand; all is by rule and calculated contrivance. for the simplest operation, some helps and accompaniments, some cunning abbreviating process is in readiness. our old modes of exertion are all discredited, and thrown aside. on every hand, the living artisan is driven from his workshop to make room for a speedier, inanimate one," (cf. reader, p. ). parallels to the reactions to new technology in our age are more than obvious. new worlds, ancient texts. the cultural impact of an encounter, a major public documentary exhibit at the new york public library, september -january , curated by anthony grafton, assisted by april g. shelford. at the other end of the spectrum defined by carlyle's faith in books comes a fascinating note from louis hennepin ( ): "we told them [the indians] that we know all things through written documents. these savages asked, 'before you came to the lands where we live, did you rightly know that we were here?' we were obliged to say no. 'then you didn't know all things through books, and they didn't tell you everything'" a. grafton, a. shelford, and n. siraisi,the power of tradition and the shock of discovery, cambridge: harvard university press, . in comparison to carlyle's criticism of mechanical mediation of the industrial age comes this evaluation of the information age or post-industrial age: "in the industrial age, when people need to achieve something, do they have to go through a series of motions, read manuals, or become experts at the task? not at all; they flip a switch.... it isn't necessary to know a single thing about lighting; all one needs to do is flip a switch to turn the light on. [...] to take care of a number of tasks, you push a button, flip a switch, turn a dial. that is the age of industry working at its best, so that you don't have to become an electrical engineer or physicist to function effectively. "to get the information you need...do you need to go on-line or open a manual? unfortunately, most of us right now end up going through a series of activities in order to get the precise information we need. in the age of information...you will be able to turn on a computer, come up with the specific question, and it will do the work for you." (cf. address by jeff davidson, executive director of the breathing space institute of chapel hill, before the national institute of health, dec. , ; reprinted in vital speeches, vol. , - - , pp. , and in the electric libraryt.) george steiner. the end of bookishness? (edited transcript of a talk given to the international publishers' association congress in london, on june , ) in times literary supplement, - , , p. . aldus manutius, the elder (born aldo manuzio, - ): known for his activity in printing, publishing, and typography, especially for design and manufacture of small pocket-sized books printed in inexpensive editions. the family formed a short-lived printing empire (ending in with aldus manutius, the younger) and is associated with the culture of books and with high quality typography. ray bradbury. fahrenheit . an abridged version appeared in galaxy science fiction ( ) under the title the fireman. adolf hitler ( - ). mein kampf (translated by ralph manheim) boston: houghton mifflin, . mao ( - ). comrade mao tze-tung on imperialism and all reactionaries are paper tigers. peking: foreign language press, . umberto eco. the name of the rose (translated by william weaver). san diego: harcourt brace jovanovich. . originally published in italy as il nome della rosa. milano: fabbri-bompiani, . topos uranikos, in plato's philosophy is the heavenly place from which we originally come and where everything is true. vilém flusser wrote that, "the library (transhuman memory) is presented as a space (topos uranikos)" cf. on memory (electronic or otherwise), in leonardo, - , , p. . great libraries take shape, under libraries, in compton's encyclopedia (compton's new media), january , noah webster ( - ) wrote the compendious dictionary of the english language, in volumes, in . he was probably inspired by samuel johnson ( - ), who wrote his dictionary of the english language in . larousse de la grammaire. paris: librairie larousse. dudens bedeutungswörterbuch: , wörter mit ihren grundbedeutungen (bearbeitet von paul grebe, rudolf koster, wolfgang müller, et al). zehn bänden. mannheim: bibliographisches institut. vannevar bush. as we may think, in the atlantic monthly, a magazine of literature, science, art, and politics. vol. clxxvi, july-dec., . the blurb introducing the article states: "as director of the office of scientific research and development, dr. vannevar bush has coordinated the activities of some six thousand leading american scientists in the application of science to warfare. in this significant article, he holds up an incentive for scientists when the fighting has ceased. he urges that men of science should then turn to the massive task of making more accessible our bewildering store of knowledge," (p. ). in many ways, this article marks the shift from a literacy-dominated pragmatics to one of many new forms of human practical activity. ted nelson. replacing the printed word: a complete literary system, in information processing . (s.h. lavington, editor). amsterdam: north holland publishing company, , pp. - . rassengna dei siti piu' utilizzati, and bibliotechi virtuali, in internet e la biblioteca, http://www.bs.unicatt.it/bibliotecavirtuale.html, . the infonautics corporation maintains the electric libraryt on the world wide web. the sense of design the term design (of latin origin) can be understood as meaning "from the sign," "out of the sign," "on account of the sign," "concerning the sign," "according to the sign," "through the medium of the sign." all these possible understandings point to the semiotic nature of design activity. balducinni defined design as "a visible demonstration by means of lines of those things which man has first conceived in his mind and pictured in the imagination and which the practised hand can make appear." it is generally agreed that before balducinni's attempt to define the field, the primary sense of design was drawing. more recently, though, design is understood in a broad sense, from actual design (of artifacts, messages, products) to the conception of events (design of exhibitions, programs, and social, political, and family gatherings). "nearly every object we use, most of the clothes we wear and many things we eat have been designed," wrote adrian forty in objects of desire. design and society since (london: thames and hudson, ; paperback edition, new york: thames and hudson, , p. ). international style: generic name attached to the functionalist, anti-ornamental, and geometric tendency of architecture in the second quarter of the th century. in , henri-russel hitchcock and philip johnson organized the show entitled international style-architecture since , at the museum of modern art in new york. among the best known architects who embraced the program are gerrit t. rietveldt, adolf loos, peter behrens, le corbusier, walter gropius, mies van der rohe, and eero saalinen. h. r. hitchcock and p. johnson. the international style. new york: norton, . jay galbraith. designing complex organizations. reading ma: addison-wesley, . devoted to the art of drawing, a collection of lectures given at the fogg museum of harvard university in march, , drawing defined (walter strauss and tracie felker, editors, new york: abaris books, ) is a good reference for the subject. richard kenin's the art of drawing: from the dawn of history to the era of the impressionists (new york: paddington press, ) gives a broad overview of drawing. vitruvius pollio. on architecture (edited from the harleian manuscripts and translated into english by frank granger). cambridge: harvard university press, . marcus cetius faventius. vitruvius and later roman building manuals. london: cambridge university press. . this book is a translation of faventius' compendium of vitruvius' de architectura and of vitruvius' de diversis fabricis architectonicae. parallel latin-english texts with translation into the english by hugh plommer. le corbusier (charles-edouard jeanneret, - ). one of the most admired and influential architects and city planners whose work combines functionalism and bold sculptural expression. since the time design became a field of study, various design styles and philosophies crystallized in acknowledged design schools. worthy of mention are the bauhaus, art deco, the ulm school (which continued in the spirit of the bauhaus), and post-modernism. a good source for information on the becoming of design is nikolaus pevsner's pioneers of modern design, harmondsworth, . the scholes and glidden typewriter of , became, with refinements, the remington model (remington was originally a gun and rifle manufacturer in the state of new york.) encyclopedia britannica, th edition, micropedia, vol. , . pp. - ). see also history of the typewriter (reprint of the original history of ). sarasota fl: b. r. swanger, . peter carl fabergé ( - ). one of the most renown goldsmiths, jewelers, and decorative artists. after studying in germany, italy, france, and england, he settled in st. petersburg in , where he inherited his father's jewelry business. famous for his inventiveness in creating decorative objects- flowers, animals, bibelots, and especially the imperial easter egg-fabergé is for many the ideal of the artist-craftsman. louis comfort tiffany ( - ). american painter, craftsman, decorator, designer and philanthropist who became one of the most influential personalities in the art nouveau style who made significant contributions to glassmaking. son of charles louis tiffany ( - ), the jeweler, he is well known for his significant contributions to glassmaking. edward george earle bulwer-lytton ( - ): british politician, poet, and novelist, famous for the last days of pompeii. (encyclopedia britannica, th edition, micropedia, vol. , . p. ). james gibson. the ecological approach to visual perception. boston: houghton mifflin, . in our days, design is focused on major themes: design integrity (promoting exemplary forms of typography and form studies, as with the basel school and its american counterparts), design function (of concern to industry-oriented schools), computation based on design. originating from gibson's studies in the psychology of man-nature relations, the ecological approach in design has its starting point in affordance. thus many designers reflect concern for an individualized approach to the understanding of affordance possibilities. costello, michie, and milne. beyond the casino economy. london: verso, . d. hayes. beyond the silicon curtain. boston: south end press, . mihai nadin. interface design: a semiotic paradigm, in semiotica : / . amsterdam: mouton de gruyter, , pp. - . -. computers in design education: a case study, in visible language (special issue: graphic design- computer graphics),vol. xix, no. , spring , pp. - . -. design and design education in the age of ubiquitous computing, in kunst design & co. wuppertal: verlag müller + busmann, , pp. - . kim henderson. architectural innovation: the reconfiguration of existing product technologies, in administrative science quarterly, vol. , january, . m. r. louis and r. i. sutton. switching cognitive gears: from habits of mind to active thinking. working paper, school of industrial engineering, stanford university, . patrick dillon. multimedia technology from a-z. new york: oryx press, . politics: there was never so much beginning friedrich hölderlin ( - ). so viel anfang war noch nie, in poems. english and german. selected verses edited, introduced, and translated by michael hamburger. london/dover nh: anvil press poetry, . aldous huxley ( - ). brave, new world. new york: modern library, , thomas alva edison ( - ). noted for inventing, among other things, the phonograph and the incandescent bulb. alexander graham bell ( - ). inventor of the graphophone. he is credited with inventing the telephone and took out the patent on it. otto nicklaus otto ( - ). inventor of the four-stroke engine applied in the automotive industry. nikola tesla ( - ). inventor of the electric alternator. lev nikolaievich tolstoy ( - ). war and peace. trans. louise and aylmer maude. new york: oxford university press, . this is a translation of voina i mir, published in moscow at the tipografia t. ros, . the declaration of independence was approved by a group delegates from the american colonies in july, , with the expressed aim of declaring the thirteen colonies independent of england. signed at the constitutional convention in , after much dispute over representation, the constitution of the united states of america entered into effect once all thirteen states ratified it. its major significance derives from its ascertainment of an effective alternative to monarchy. the system of checks and balances contained in the constitution is meant to preserve any one branch of government from assuming absolute authority. the declaration of rights of man and the citizen was approved by the french national assembly on august , and declares the right of individuals to be represented, equality among citizens, and freedom of religion, speech, and the press. the ideals of the french revolution inspired many other political movements on the continent. written by karl marx and friedrich engels in a year of many popular uprisings all over europe against conservative monarchies, the communist manifesto of expresses the political program of a revolutionary movement: workers of the world united, leading the way to a classless society. the romantic impetus of the manifesto and its new messianic tone was of a different tenor from the attempts to implement the program in russia and later on eastern europe, china, and korea. married...with children: a situation comedy at the borderline between satire and vulgarity, presenting a couple, al and peggy bundy, and their teenage children, kelly and bud, in life-like situations at the fringes of the consumer society. born in , alexander solzhenitsyn became known as a writer in the context of the post-stalin era. his books, a day in the life of ivan denisovitch ( ), the gulag archipelago ( - ), the oak and the calf ( ), testify to the many aspects of stalin's dictatorship. in , after publishing gulag archipelago (about life in soviet prison camps), the writer was exiled from his homeland. he returned to russia in . yevgeni alexandrovich yevtushenko: a rhetorical poet in the tradition of mayakovsky's poetry for the masses. during the communist regime, he took it upon himself to celebrate the official party line, as well as to poeticallly unveil less savory events and abusive practices. his poetry is still the best way to know the poet and the passionate human being. see also yevtushenko's reader. trans. robin milner-gulland. new york: e.p. dutton, . dimitri dimitrevich shostakovich ( - ): for a very long time the official composer of the soviet union. after his death, it became clear how deeply critical he was of a reality he seemed to endorse. he created his harmonic idiom by modifying the harmonic system of classical russian music. see also gunter wolter. dimitri shostakovitch: eine sowjetische tragödie. frankfurt/main, new york: p. lang, . there is no good definition of samizdat, the illegal publishing movement of the former soviet block and china. nevertheless, the power of the printed word-often primitively presented and always in limited, original editions-remains exemplary testimony to the many forces at work in societies where authoritarian rules are applied to the benefit of the political power in place. from a large number of books on various aspects of samizdat, the following titles can be referenced: samizdat. register of documents (english edition). munich: samizdat archive association. from . ferdinand j. m. feldbrugge. samizdat and political dissent in the soviet union. leyden: a.w. sijthoff, . claude widor. the samizdat press in china's provinces, - . stanford ca: hoover institution, stanford university, . nicolae ceausescu ( - ). his life can be summed up in john sweeney's statement: "in ceausescu's romania, madness was enthroned, sanity a disease" cf. the life and evil times of nicolae ceausescu, london: hutchinson, , p. . berlin wall. erected in august, , the wall divided east and west berlin. over the years, it became the symbol of political oppression. hundreds of people were killed in their attempt to escape to freedom. the political events in east europe of fall, led to destruction of the wall, a symbolic step in the not so easy process of german reunification. see also: j. ruhle, g. holzweissig. august : die mauer von berlin (hrsg von i. spittman). köln: edition deutschland archiv, . red. b. beier, u. heckel, g. richter. november : der tag der deutschen. hamburg: carlsen, . john borneman. after the wall: east meets west in the new berlin. new york: basic books, . political unrest, due to intense resentment of the soviet occupation, and economic hardship led to the creation of an independent labor union, the solidarnosc (solidarity) in . in , nationwide strikes brought poland to a standstill. martial law was imposed and solidarity was banned in after dramatic confrontations at the gdansk shipyards. reinstated in , solidarity became a major political factor in the formation of the new, non-communist government. massimo d'azeglio ( - ): i miei ricordi. a cura di alberto m. ghisalberti. torino: einaudi, . germany has a rather tortuous history behind its unification. after the peace of westphalia ( ) ending the thirty years' war, a sharp division between catholic and protestant states arose. after napoleon's defeat at waterloo ( ), the german confederation (led by austria) prepared the path towards future unification. in , the attempt to form a central government was blocked, to be resuscitated after the franco-prussian war ( - ). on his defeat of ludwig ii of bavaria, the prussian wilhelm i became the first emperor of a unified germany in , and bismarck his first chancellor. prepared by garibaldi's conquest of the kingdom of the two sicilies ( ), the creation of the kingdom of italy by victor emmanuelle ( ) ended with the seizure of rome ( ) from the control of the vatican. italy became a republic in . the establishments of various arab states is a testimony to the many forces at work in the arab world. the victory of the allies in world war brought about the dissolution of the ottoman empire. modern turkey was established in , ruled initially by a sultan, becoming a republic in under the presidency of kamal atatürk. at around the same time, syria (including lebanon) fell under the mandate of the french league of nations. lebanon became a separate state in . iraq was established as a kingdom in , falling under the same status as syria within the british league of nations. saudi arabia was created in , and jordan became an independent kingdom in . the history of national definition and sovereignty in the middle east is far from being closed. for information on the ustasha organization in croatia, see cubric milan's book ustasa hrvatska revolucionarna organizacija, beograd: idavacka kuca kujizevne novine, . chetniks (in serbia), see a dictionary of yugoslav political and economic terminology (cf. andrlic vlasta, rjecnik terminologije jugoslavenskog politicko-ekonomskog sistema, published in , zagreb: informator). the reality of the breakdown of the country that used to be yugoslavia is but one of the testimonies of change that renders words and the literate use of language meaningless. omae kenichi. the borderless world. power and strategy in the interlinked world economy. new york: harper business, . isaiah berlin. the crooked timber of humanity. chapters in the history of ideas. london: john murray, . fedor mikhailovich dostoyevsky ( - ). author of crime and punishment (prestuplenie i nakazanie), trans. david mcduff, harmondsworth: viking, . toqueville noticed that "...scarcely any question arises in the united states which does not become, sooner or later, a subject of judicial debate.... as most public men are, or have been, legal practitioners, they introduce the customs and the technicalities of their profession into the affairs of the country.... the language of the law becomes, in some measure, a vulgar tongue" cf. alexis de toqueville, democracy in america. gary chapman. time to cast aside political apathy in favor of creating a new vision for america, in los angeles times, aug. , , p. d . edward brent (writing as earl babble). electronic communication and sociology: looking backward, thinking ahead, in american sociologist, , apr. , , pp. - . "theirs not to reason why" a professional description of the initial strike in the gulf war gives the following account: "in the blitz that launched desert storm, apache and special forces helicopters first took out two early warning radar stations. this opened a corridor for f- e aircraft following in single file to hit scud sites in western iraq. also, stealth f- a fighters, benefiting from compass call and ef- long-distance jamming, hit targets in baghdad, including a phone exchange and a center controlling air defenses. other such underground centers were hit in the south. tomahawk missiles took out power plants. all this occurred within minutes. "about minutes into the assault, a second wave of strike 'packages' of other aircraft, including f- as, attacked. they were guided by awacs (airborne warning and control systems) crafts, which had been orbiting within a range of iraqi radar for months. coalition forces flew sorties the first day, losing only three planes." cf. john a. adam, warfare in the information age, in ieee spectrum, september, , p. . one more detail: "the architects of the huge raid are the central commander, lieutenant general charles a. horner, and brigadier general c. glosson, an electrical engineer by training. for months they have overseen complete war games and rehearsed precision bombing in the arabian expanse," p. . sun tzu. the art of war. trans. thomas cleary. boston & london: shambala dragon editions, . "military action is important to the nation-it is the ground of death and life, the path of survival and destruction, so it is imperative to examine it" p. . "speed is the most important in war," epaminondas of thebes. battle of leuctra, bce. helmuth von moltke ( - ). geschichte des deutsch-französischen krieges von - . the franco-german war of - . trans. clara bell and henry w. fischer. new york: h. fertig, . reprint of the version published in new york by harper in . carl von clausewitz ( - ).vom kriege. michael howard and peter paret, editors. on war. princeton nj: princeton university press, . theodor heuss ( - ). theodor heuss über staat und kirche. frankfurt/main: p. lang, . c. w. groetsch. tartaglia's inverse problem in a resistive medium, in the american mathematical monthly, : , , pp. - . roland barthes. leçon, paris: editions du seuil, . the book is based on the lecture delivered at the inauguration of the chair of literary semiology at the collège de france on january , . "but language-the performance of a language system-is neither reactionary nor progressive; it is quite simply fascist, for fascism does not prevent speech, it compels speech." alan mathison turing ( - ). british mathematician, one of the inventors of the programmable computer. during world war , turing worked at the british foreign office, helping crack the german secret military code. william aspray and arthur burks, editors. papers of john von neumann on computing and computer theory. cambridge ma: mit press; los angeles: tomash publishers, . charles babbage institute reprint series for the history of computing, vol. . john condry, tv: live from the battlefield, in ieee spectrum, september, . regarding the role of imagery and how it effectively replaces the written word, the following example is relevant: an israeli visiting arizona talked to his daughter in tel aviv while simultaneously watching the news on the cable news network (cnn). the reporter stated that a scud missile had been launched at tel aviv, and the father informed the daughter, who sought protection in a shelter. "this is what television has become since its initial adoption years ago...the world is becoming a global village, as educator marshall mcluhan predicted it would. imagery is its language" p. . darrell bott. maintaining language proficiency, in military intelligence, , , p. . charles m. herzfeld. information technology: a retro- and pro-spective. lecture presented at the battelle information technology summit. columbus oh, august . published in proceedings of the dtic/battelle information technology summit. linda reinberg, in the field: the language of the vietnam war, new york: facts of file, . the strategic defense initiative (sdi) was focused upon developing anti-missile and anti-satellite technologies and programs. a multi-layered, multi-technology approach to ballistic missile defense (bmd) meant to intercept offensive nuclear weapons after they had been launched by aggressors. the system consisted of the so-called target acquisition (search and detection of an offensive object); tracking (determination of the trajectory of the offensive object); discrimination (distinguishing of missiles and warheads from decoys or chaff); interception (accurate pointing and firing to ensure destruction of the offensive object). the critical components are computer programs and the lasers designed to focus a beam on the target's surface, heating it to the point of structural failure. the pentagon. critical technologies plan, march, . restructuring the u.s. military, a report by a joint task force of the committee for national security and the defense budget project. obviously, the post-cold war momentum provided many arguments for new plans for a scaled down, but highly technological, defense. the new circumstances created by the end of the cold war require strategies for conversion of industries that until recently depended entirely upon the needs and desires of the military. the interactive future: individual, community, and society in the age of the web elaine morgan. falling apart: the rise and decline of urban civilisation. london: souvenir press, . david clark. urban decline. london/new york: routledge, . katharine l. bradbury. urban decline and the future of american cities. washington dc: brookings institution, . hegel's theory of state derives from his philosophy of history. civil society affords individuals opportunities for freedom. but since the state is the final guarantor, it accordingly has priority over the individual; cf. philosophy of right, t.b. knox, editor. london, . e.a. wrigley and david souden, editors. thomas robert malthus. an essay on the principle of population, , in the works of thomas robert malthus. london: w. pickering, . "population, when unchecked, increases in a geometrical ratio. subsistence increases only in an arithmetical ratio" (p. ). jean-jacques rousseau ( - ). philosopher of the french enlightenment. in du contract social, he stated the law of inverse proportion between population and political freedom (cf. book , chapter , paris: livre de poche, . also in social contract. essays by locke, hume, and rousseau. sir ernest barker, editor. new york: oxford university press, ). bernard rubin & associates. big business and the mass media. lexington ma: lexington books, . craig e. aronoff, editor. business and the media. santa monica ca: goodyear publishing corp., . david finn. the business-media relationship: countering misconceptions and distrust. new york: amacom, . observations made by media scholars give at least a quantitative testimony to many facets of the business of media. ed shiller, in managing the media (toronto: bedford house publishing corp., ) states "the media are everywhere and they are interested in everything" (p. ). a. kent macdougall (ninety seconds to tell it all. big business and the news media, homewood il: dow jones-irwin, ) observed that "to communicate with the american public, companies must first communicate with the media" (p. ). interestingly enough, they reach huge audiences by using the rent free public airwaves. consequently, as the author shows, the news media shine by any measure of profitability. according to forbes magazine's annual study of profits, broadcasting and publishing companies led all industry groups in return on stockholder's equity and capital in recent years. specialized publications also keep track of the profitability of the media. study of media and markets, a service of simmons market research bureau, inc., makes available standard marketing information. communications industry forecasts, brought out by veronis, suhler & asso. of new york, gives a detailed financial status of the entire communication industry (radio, television, magazines, entertainment media, recorded music, advertising, promotion). j.h. cassing and s.l. husted, editors. capital, technology, and labor in the new global economy. washington dc: american enterprise institute for public policy research, . raymond vernon. exploring the global economy: emerging issues in trade and investment. cambridge: center for international affairs, harvard university press, . stephen gill. the global political economy: perspectives, problems, and policies. new york: harvester, . gene grossman. innovation and growth in the global economy. cambridge: mit press, . facts for action (periodical). boston: oxfam america, from . john clark. for richer or poorer: an oxfam report on western connections with world hunger. oxford: oxfam, . j.g. donders, editor. bread broken: an action report on the food crisis in africa. eldoret, kenya: gaba publications, amecea pastoral institute, . in his study eighteenth brumaire, ( ), karl marx described bureaucracy as a "semi-autonomous power standing partly above class-divided society, exploiting all its members alike." harvey wheeler. democracy in a revolutionary era. santa barbara: center for the study of democratic institutions, . wheeler defineds bureaucracy as "a vast organism with an assortment of specialized, departmentalized tentacles for coping with the different kinds of reality it may encounter" (pp. - ). max weber. essay in sociology. edited and translated by h.h. gerth and c. wright mills. london: oxford university press, . in this classical theory of bureaucracy, the author saw its roots in the cultural traditions of western rationalism. as such, it is characterized by impersonal relations, hierarchy, and specialization. r. chackerian, g. abcarian. bureaucratic power in society. chicago: nelson hall, inc., . b.c. smith. bureaucracy and political power. brighton: wheatsheaf books, ltd., . the author argues that "bureaucracy is a political phenomenon" (p. ix), not a mere administrative occurrence. eva etzioni-halevy. bureaucracy and democracy. a political dilemma. london/boston: routledge & kegan paul, . george c. roche. america by the throat: the stranglehold of federal bureaucracy. old greenwich ct: devin adair, . eugene lewis. american politics in a bureaucratic age: citizens, constituents, clients, and victims. cambridge ma: winthrop publishers, . michael hanben and ronda hanben. netizens: on the history and impact of usenet and the internet. a netbook. http://www.columbia.edu/~rh /ch , june, michael j. a. howe, the strange feats of idiots savants, in fragments of genius, london/new york: routledge, . "'idiots savants' is the term that has most frequently been used to designate mentally handicapped individuals who are capable of outstanding achievements at particular tasks" (p. ). he also mentions alternative labels: talented imbecile, parament, talented ament, retarded savant, schizophrenic savant, autistic savant. among the examples he gives: a -year old chinese who could give the exact page for any chinese character in a -page dictionary; a -year old woman hardly able to speak (her mental age was assessed at years, months), with no musical instruction, who could play on the piano a piece of music that a person around her might hum or play; a subject who knew all distances between towns in the usa and could list all hotels and number of rooms available; a person who knew abraham lincoln's gettysburg address but could not, after weeks of classes on the subject, say who lincoln was or what the speech means. in the degradation of the democratic dogma ( ), henry adams presented a logarithmic curve of the acceleration of history. in , adams noted that between and , the speed of events increased , times. gerard piel. the acceleration of history. new york: a.a. knopf, . nicolas rashevsky. looking at history through mathematics. cambridge: mit press, . end of the civilization of illiteracy, by mihai nadin (c) mihai nadin public school education by michael mÜller, c.s.s.r., _priest of the congregation of the most holy redeemer._ boston: published by patrick donahoe, franklin street. . entered according to act of congress, in the year , by patrick donahoe, in the office of the librarian of congress, at washington. contents. chapter i. page introductory chapter ii. education--its object and necessity chapter iii. origin of the public school system chapter iv. exposÉ of the public school system chapter v. evil consequences of the public school system on the male portion of society chapter vi. evil consequences of the public school system on the female portion of society chapter vii. what is it to be a mother? chapter viii. evil consequences of the public school system continued chapter ix. the state.--its usurpation of the individual rights.--its incompetency to educate chapter x. the state a robber.--violation of our constitution and common law chapter xi. remedy for the diabolical spirit and the crimes in our country chapter xii. the denominational system alone satisfies the wants of all, and can save the republic chapter xiii. the catholic priest on the public school system chapter xiv. answers to objections chapter xv. zeal of the priest for the catholic education of our children public school education. chapter i. introductory. american fellow-citizens--america is my home! i have no other country. after my god and my religion, my country is the dearest object of my life! i love my country as dearly as any one else can. it is this love that makes my heart bleed when i call to mind the actual state of society in our country, and the principles that prevail everywhere. it is indeed but too true that we live in a most anti-christian age; principles are disregarded, and iniquity is held in veneration. we see nothing but confusion in religion, in government, in the family circle. sects spring up and swarm like locusts, destroying not only revealed religion, but rejecting even the law of nature. fraud, theft, and robbery are practised almost as a common trade. the press justifies rebellion, secret societies, and plots for the overthrow of established governments. the civil law, by granting divorce, has broken the family tie. children are allowed to grow up in ignorance of true religious principles, and thereby become regardless of their parents. the number of apostates from christianity is on the increase, at least in the rising generation. current literature is penetrated with the spirit of licentiousness, from the pretentious quarterly to the arrogant and flippant daily newspaper, and the weekly and monthly publications are mostly heathen or maudlin. they express and inculcate, on the one hand, stoical, cold, and polished pride of mere intellect, or on the other, empty and wretched sentimentality. some employ the skill of the engraver to caricature the institutions and offices of the christian religion, and others to exhibit the grossest forms of vice, and the most distressing scenes of crime and suffering. the illustrated press has become to us what the amphitheatre was to the romans when men were slain, women were outraged, and christians given to the lions to please a degenerate populace. the number of the most unnatural crimes is beyond computation. a wide-spread and deep-seated dishonesty and corruption has, like some poisonous virus, inoculated the great body of our public men in national, state, and municipal positions, so much so that rascality seems to be the rule, and honesty the exception. real statesmanship has departed from amongst us; neither the men nor the principles of the olden time exist any longer. the shameless cynicism with which the great public plunderers of our day brazen out their infamy, is only equalled by the apathy with which the public permits these robberies, and condone for them by lavishing place and power upon the offenders. "the way of the transgressor" has ceased to be "hard"--unless he be a transgressor of very low degree--and rascality rides rampant over the land, from the halls of congress to the lowest department of public plunder. the poet has well said that vice, once grown familiar to the view, after first exciting our hate, next succeeded in gaining our pity, and finally was taken into our embrace. the familiarity of the public mind with daily and almost hourly instances of public peculation and betrayal of high trusts has created this indulgent disposition, until at last the wholesome indignation, which is the best safeguard of honesty, has been diluted into a maudlin sympathy with the malefactors. and the rankness of the growth of this evil is not more startling than its rapidity. it is a new thing--a foul fungus, suddenly forced into fetid life, out of the corruptions engendered by the war. it is "a new departure" in a wrong direction--down that smooth, broad path to the devil. we all remember the sensation which, before the war, was ever caused by the discovery of a public defaulter, and the indignation which drove him ever forth from place and country, on his detection. punishment sure and swift was certain to seize upon him, if he dared linger after the facts were known. a breach of trust was not then considered a joke, nor theft elevated into the dignity of a fine art, whose most eminent professors were to be regarded with envy and admiration. think of the clamor which was raised over the comparatively petty peculations of swartwout, schuyler, fowler, and other small sinners like them, who even found the country too hot to hold them, and died in exile, as an expiation to the public sentiment they had outraged. yet their frauds were as molehills to the mountains which the busy hands of our public peculators have heaped up, and are daily piling higher. within the last ten years, where they stole cents, their successors stole by thousands and tens of thousands; and, instead of flying from punishment, flaunt their crimes and their ill-gotten wealth in the face of the community, heedless either of the arm of the law, or the more potent hiss of public scorn. and this financial dishonesty of the times is as true of commercial as of political circles, and as patent at washington as at new york and other cities. "think you that those eighteen men on whom the tower of siloam fell, were sinners above all others in jerusalem? i tell you nay!" think you that those six or seven on whom the axe of the public press fell, are sinners above all in new york and elsewhere? if all men that have been guilty of fraud in new york and elsewhere were to have a tower fall on them, there would be funerals enough for fifty years. one of the saddest symptoms of degeneracy in a people is evinced by a desperate levity--a scoffing spirit such as that which inspired the french people when they denied even god, and substituted a prostitute to be their "goddess of reason." much of that spirit is unhappily manifesting itself in our country. that most fearful picture of a corrupt community drawn by curran in his description of the public pests of his day--"remaining at the bottom like drowned bodies while soundness remained in them, but rising only as they rotted, and floating only from the buoyancy of corruption"--seems, unhappily, destined to find its parallel here, unless public virtue and public indignation should awake to condemn and chastise the corruption which is tainting and poisoning the air around us. the judgment which overtook the men of siloam was visited on them for sins not unlike those which seem to invite a similar judgment from offended heaven upon our modern siloams, and is no jesting matter. nay, in view of the many recent terrible visitations which have fallen upon different parts of our country, many voices have already been raised proclaiming them as marks of divine wrath against national sins, perpetrated by a people who should, by their lives, testify their sense of the blessings showered upon them in more prodigal profusion than on any other nation in the annals of mankind. that the great body of our people are corrupt, or that they at heart approve of corruption, no one will be mad enough to maintain. but they are responsible before heaven and to posterity for the criminal apathy they manifest in their silent sanction of the corruption and crime which are fast making the american name a synonyme for theft, for brazen impudence and unblushing rascality. in the life of a nation, as in that of an individual, there are periods which are critical; and a restoration to health, or the certainty of speedy death, depends on the way this malady is met. the crisis which now menaces the life and health of the united states cannot be far distant; for private virtue cannot long survive the death of public honor and honesty, nor private morality fail to catch the contagion of public profligacy. if the representative men of a country, those in whom its high trusts are reposed, be corrupt and shameless, they will drag down into the same mire the morals of the people they plunder and misrepresent. indeed we want no prophet, nor one raised from the dead, to tell us the awfully fatal results. what can be done to stem the fearful torrent of evils that flood the land? we all know that when, in , the famous stamp act was passed in the british parliament, on the news reaching boston the bells were muffled, and rang a funeral peal. in new york the "act" was carried through the streets with a death's head bearing this inscription: "the folly of england and the ruin of america." so great was the opposition to the "act," that it was repealed during the spring of . this shows how quickly the evils of society can be put down if people set to work in earnest. now we cannot expect the people to set to work in earnest about stemming the torrent of the great evils of the land, unless they are well enlightened as to the source from which they flow. this source is principally that wrong system of education introduced into this country about fifty years ago. at that time very few, perhaps, could foresee what effects it was calculated to produce. after a long trial, we can now pronounce on it with certainty by its results. the tree, no longer a sapling, can be judged by its fruits. these fruits have been so bad that it is high time to call the attention of the public to the tree. now in calling attention to this tree, i wish it to be once for all distinctly understood, that whatever of a seemingly or even really harsh nature i may say in this discussion on the public schools, is intended and directed _solely against the system_. for those who manage or officiate in them, as teachers or otherwise, i have, i trust, all the courtesy, charity, and respect due from one citizen to another. if i offend the prejudices, convictions, or susceptibilities of any on this strangely misrepresented subject, no one can more regret it than myself; i can truly say it is not intended. all i ask of my fellow-citizens is a fair discussion on this great question of education, to look at it without prejudice, without bigotry; for if prejudice and bigotry stand in our way, they will stand in the way of the glory and stability of this country, whose future god only knows. it is the duty of all citizens to labor with a good heart, a clear mind, an earnest soul, to do all they can in building up, and strengthening, and making still more glorious this great american people. chapter ii. education--its object and necessity. the question of education is, of all others, the most important. it has for some time back received a good deal of attention in public meetings, in newspapers, and in the pulpit. in fact it has become a question of the day. on this question, however, there is unfortunately such an amount of ignorance, prejudice, and confusion of ideas, that it is almost impossible to make the public understand it. the reason of this is, because so many follow the vague views expressed on this subject in newspapers. many a paper is undoubtedly political, and so far partisan; and as such its editor will defend and advance what he believes to be the principles of his party. but the question of education rises above party politics; yet when you read many a paper you will find that the editor appeals to the prejudice and passions of party in a way quite unworthy of an independent journalist, and of the grave subject under consideration. he advances principles which, at first sight, seem to be quite true; for instance: "public school education is necessary for our republican form of government, for the very life of the republic." "it is an admitted axiom, that our form of government, more than all others, depends on the intelligence of the people." "the framers of our constitution firmly believed that a republic form of government could not endure without intelligence and education generally diffused among the people. the state must, therefore, take all means within its power to promote and encourage popular education, and furnish this intelligence of the people through her public schools." at first sight such principles seem to be true, and the people in general will accept them. experience teaches that the public will accept, without question, almost any maxim or problem, provided it be formulated in such a manner as to convey some specific meaning that does not demand reflection or complex examination. for the same reason no small portion of the public will reject anything that at first sight seems to exceed the measure of their understanding. knaves and charlatans, knowing this, impose on the public by flattering their intelligence, that they may accomplish their own ambitious and selfish ends. in this way a multitude of pernicious religious, social, and political maxims have come into vogue, especially in reference to the question of public instruction. yet on the sound principles concerning this question of education, and on the right understanding of them, depend not only the temporal and eternal happiness of the people, but also the future maintenance and freedom, nay, even the material prosperity, of the republic. in the discussion of the system of education it will no longer do to use vague, unmeaning expressions, or to advance some general puzzling principles to keep the public in the dark on this important point. it is high time that the public should be thoroughly enlightened on the subject of education. everybody is talking about education,--the advantages of education, the necessity of education; and yet almost all have come to use the word in its narrowest and most imperfect meaning, as implying mere cultivation of the intellectual faculties, and even this is done in the most superficial manner, by cramming the mind with facts, instead of making it reflect and reason. the great majority even of those who write upon the subject take no higher view. the term _education_ comprehends something more than mere instruction. one may be instructed without being educated; but he cannot be educated without being instructed. the one has a partial or limited, the other a complete or general, meaning. what, then, is the meaning of education? education comes from the latin "educo," and means, according to plato, "to give to the body and soul all the perfection of which they are susceptible"; in other words, the object of education is to render the youth of both sexes beautiful, healthful, strong, intelligent and virtuous. it is doubtless the will of the creator that man--the masterpiece of the visible world--should be raised to that perfection of which he is capable, and for the acquisition of which he is offered the proper means. it is the soul of man which constitutes the dignity of his being, and makes him the king of the universe. now the body is the dwelling of the soul--the palace of this noble king; the nobility of the soul must induce us to attend to its palace--to the health and strength and beauty of the body;--health, strength and beauty are the noble qualities of the body. the noble qualities of the soul are virtue and learning. virtue and learning are the two trees planted by god in paradise; they are the two great luminaries created by god to give light to the world; they are the two testaments, the old and the new; they are the two sisters, martha and mary, living under one roof in great union and harmony, and mutually supporting each other. learning is, next to virtue, the most noble ornament and the highest improvement of the human mind. it is by learning that all the natural faculties of the mind obtain an eminent degree of perfection. the memory is exceedingly improved by appropriate exercise, and becomes, as it were, a storehouse of names, facts, entire discourses, etc., according to every one's exigency or purposes. the understanding--the light of the soul--is exceedingly improved by exercise, and by the acquisition of solid science and useful knowledge. judgment, the most valuable of all the properties of the mind, and by which the other faculties are poised, governed and directed, is formed and perfected by experience, and regular well-digested studies and reflection; and by them it attains to true justness and taste. the mind, by the same means, acquires a steadiness, and conquers the aversion which sloth raises against the serious employments of its talents. how much the perfection of the mind depends upon culture, appears in the difference of understanding between the savages (who, except in treachery, cunning and shape, scarce seem to differ from the apes which inhabit their forests) and the most elegant and civilized nations. a piece of ground left wild produces nothing but weeds and briers, which by culture would be covered with corn, flowers and fruit. the difference is not less between a rough mind and one that is well cultivated. the same natural culture, indeed, suits not all persons. geniuses must be explored, and the manner of instructing proportioned to them. but there is one thing which suits all persons, and without which knowledge is nothing but "a sounding brass and tinkling cymbal": this is the supernatural culture of the soul, or the habitual endeavor of man of rendering himself more pleasing in the sight of god by the acquisition of solid christian virtues, in order thus to reach his last end--his eternal happiness. it is for this reason that our saviour tells us: "what doth it profit a man if he gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? for what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?"--(matt. xvi. .) it is, then, the _supernatural culture_, or the perfection of the soul, that is to be principally attended to in education. now what is the perfection of soul? the perfection of each being in general, is that which renders the being better and more perfect. it is clear that inferior beings cannot make superior ones better and more perfect. now the soul, being immortal, is superior to all earthly or perishable things. these, then, cannot make the soul better and more perfect, but rather worse than she is; for he who seeks what is worse than himself, makes himself worse than he was before. therefore the good of the soul can be only that which is better and more excellent than the soul herself is. now god alone is this good--he being goodness itself. he who possesses god may be said to possess the goodness of all other things; for whatever goodness they possess, they have from god. in the sun, for instance, you admire the light; in a flower, beauty; in bread, the savor; in the earth, its fertility; all these have their being from god. no doubt god has reserved to himself far more than he has bestowed upon creatures; this truth admitted, it necessarily follows that he who enjoys god possesses in him all other things; and consequently the very same delight which he would have taken in other things, had he enjoyed them separately, he enjoys in god, in a far greater measure, and in a more elevated manner. for this reason, st. francis of assisium often used to exclaim: "my god and my all"--a saying to which he was so accustomed that he could scarcely think of anything else, and often spent whole nights in meditating on this truth. certainly true contentment is only that which is taken in the creator, and not that which is taken in the creature; a contentment which no man can take from the soul, and in comparison with which all other joy is sadness, all pleasure sorrow, all sweetness bitter, all beauty ugliness, all delight affliction. it is most certain that "when face to face we shall see god as he is," we shall have most perfect joy and happiness. it follows, then, most clearly, that the nearer we approach to god in this life, the more contentment of mind and the greater happiness of soul we shall enjoy; and this contentment and joy is of the self-same nature as that which we shall have in heaven; the only difference is, that here our joy and happiness is in an incipient state, whilst there it will be brought to perfection. he, then, is a truly wise and learned, a truly well-educated, man, who here below has learned how to seek god, and to be united as much as possible with the supreme good of his soul. he therefore imparts a good education to the soul, who teaches her how to seek and to find her own good. now what is it to teach the soul to find her own supreme good? it is to train, to teach, to lead the child in the way he should go, leading him in the paths of duty, first to god, and secondly to his neighbor. all not professed infidels, it appears to me, must admit this definition. but as very many believe in "webster," or "worcester," i give the former's definition of education: "educate"--to instill into the mind principles of art, science, _morals_, _religion_, and behavior. according to this definition of education, morals and religion constitute essential parts of education. indeed, the first and most important of all duties which the child must learn are his moral and religious duties; for it will, i hope, be universally admitted that man is not born into this world merely to "propagate his species, make money, enjoy the pleasures of this world, and die." if he is not born for that end, then it is most important that he be taught for what end he was born, and the way appointed by his creator to attain that end. every child born into this world is given a body and soul. this soul, for which the body was created, and which will rise with it at the last day, be judged with it for the acts done in life, and be happy or unhappy with it for all eternity, is, in consequence of the "fall," turned away from god, and the body, no longer acting in obedience to right reason, seeks its own gratification, like any irrational animal. religion (from _religio_) is the means provided by a merciful god to reunite the chain broken by the sin of our first parents, and bridge over the chasm opened between man and his divine destiny. to give this knowledge of religion is the principal purpose of education. without this it is mere natural _instruction_, but no education at all. it would be worse than giving, as we say, "the play of hamlet with the part of the prince of denmark left out." religion, then, forms the spirit and essence of all true education. as leaven must be diffused throughout the entire mass in order to produce its effects, so religion must be thoroughly diffused throughout the child's entire education, in order to be solid and effective. not a moment of the hours of school should be left without religious influence. it is the constant breathing of the air that preserves our bodily life, and it is the constant dwelling in a religious atmosphere that preserves the life of the youthful soul. here are laid the primitive principles of future character and conduct. these religious principles may be forgotten, or partially effaced, in the journey of life, but they will nevertheless endure, because they are engraved by the finger of god himself. the poor wanderer, when the world has turned its back upon him, after having trusted to its promises only to be deceived, after having yielded to its temptations and blandishments only to be cruelly injured and mocked, may, at last, in the bitterness of his heart, "remember the days of his youth," and "return to his father's house." so long as faith remains, however great the vice or the crime, there is something to build on, and room to hope for repentance, for reformation, and final salvation. faith or religion once gone, all is gone. religion is the crystal vase in which education is contained, or rather the spirit which infuses and vitalizes it. religion is the very life of society, the very soul of a christian state. all nations and governments know and understand that to exclude christian education from the schools is to exclude it from their law, legislature, courts, and public and private manners. it should, then, ever be borne in mind that religion, though distinguishable, is never separable from true civil and political science and philosophy. enlightened statesmanship will always accept and recognize religious education as a most valuable and powerful ally in the government of the state, or political society. the great washington clearly asserts this in his farewell address to the american people: "of the dispositions," he says, "which lead to political prosperity, religion and morality are indispensable supports. where is the security for property or for life, if the sense of religious obligation desert the oaths which are administered in our courts of justice? and let it not be supposed that morality can be maintained without religion." accordingly our legislatures are opened with prayer, the bible is on the benches of our courts; it is put into the hands of jurymen, voters, and even tax-payers; indeed, from its late use and abuse, one might think that we were living under the pentateuch, and that the whole moral law and ten commandments were bound to the brows of the public or state phylacteries. indeed, the politics of every tribe, nation, or people, will reflect in an exact degree their moral and religious convictions and education. if these are false, the political society will be violent, disorderly, and abnormal; if true, the state is calm, prosperous, strong and happy. if these propositions be true, and i claim they are as axiomatic and undeniable as any proposition in euclid--yea more so, for they are the maxims of inspired wisdom--how immeasurably important is a true christian education! and if its influence is so great in determining even the political conduct of men, it is still more necessary and powerful in forming the character of true woman--the christian wife, mother, and daughter. the influence of christian woman on society is incalculable. admitting it possible, for a moment, that irreligious men might construct or direct an atheistical state, yet it would be utterly vain to build up the family, the groundwork of all organized communities, without the aid of the christian woman. she it is who, in the deep and silent recesses of the household, puts together those primitive and enduring materials, each in its place and order, on which will rest and grow, to full beauty and development, the fair proportion of every well-ordained state. this foundation is laid in the care and rearing of good and dutiful children. the task of the christian mother may indeed be slow, and unobserved; but god makes use of the weak to confound the strong, and this is beautifully illustrated in the christian woman, who is strong because she is weak, most influential when she is most retired, and most happy, honored, cherished and respected when she is doing the work assigned her by divine providence, in the bosom of her household. it will be admitted, then, that the education of girls demands a special culture. generally upon mothers the domestic instruction of the children, in their infancy, mainly depends. they ought, therefore, to be well instructed in the motives of religion, articles of faith, and all the practical duties and maxims of piety. then history, geography, and some tincture of works of genius and spirit, may be joined with suitable arts and other accomplishments of their sex and condition, provided they be guided by and referred to religion, and provided books of piety and exercises of devotion always have the first place, both in their hearts and in their time. they should, then, from their earliest years, if possible, be separated in their studies, their plays, and their going and returning from school, from children of the opposite sex. they should be placed under the _surveillance and instruction_ of mature and pious women. every possible occasion and influence should be used to instil into their young and plastic minds, by lesson and example, principles of religion and morality. their studies should be grave and practical. their nervous organization is naturally acute, and should be strengthened, but not stimulated, as it too often is, thereby laying the foundation for that terrible and tormenting train of neuralgic affections of after-life, debilitating mind and body. a thorough christian education, then, is the basis of all happiness and peace, for the family as well as for the state itself; for every state is but the union of several families. it is for this reason that we find good parents so willing to make every sacrifice for the christian education of their children, and that all true statesmen, and all true lovers of their country, have always encouraged and advocated that kind of education which is based upon christian principles. good, dutiful children are the greatest blessing for parents and for the state, whilst children without religion are the greatest misfortune, the greatest curse that can come upon parents and upon the state. history informs us that dion the philosopher gave a sharp reproof to dionysius the tyrant, on account of his cruelty. dionysius felt highly offended, and resolved to avenge himself on dion; so he took the son of dion prisoner, not, indeed, for the purpose of killing him, but of giving him up into the hands of a godless teacher. after the young man had been long enough under this teacher to learn from him everything that was bad and impious, dionysius sent him back to his father. now what object had the tyrant in acting thus? he foresaw that this corrupted son, by his impious conduct during his whole lifetime, would cause his father constant grief and sorrow, so much so that he would be for him a lifelong affliction and curse. this, the tyrant thought, was the longest and greatest revenge he could take on dion for having censured his conduct. plato, a heathen philosopher, relates that when the sons of the persian kings had reached the age of fourteen, they were given to four teachers. the first of these teachers had to instruct them in their duties towards god; the second, to be truthful under all circumstances; the third, to overcome their passions; and the fourth teacher taught them how to be valiant and intrepid men. this truth, that good children are the greatest blessing and that bad children are the greatest affliction that can befall parents and the state, needs no further illustration. there is no father, there is no mother, there is no statesman, who is not thoroughly convinced of this truth. can we, then, wonder that the catholic church has always encouraged a truly christian education? there is nothing in history better established than the fact that the catholic church has been at all times, and under the most trying circumstances, the generous fostering-mother of education. she has labored especially, with untiring care, to educate the poor, who are her favorite children. it was the catholic church that founded, and endowed liberally, almost all the great universities of europe. protestants and infidels are very apt to overlook the incalculable benefits which the church has conferred on mankind, and yet without her agency civilization would have been simply impossible. the catholic church was, moreover, the first to establish common schools for the free education of the people. as early as a.d. , we find the council of vaison recommending the establishment of public schools. in , a synod at mentz ordered that the parochial priests should have schools in the towns and villages, that "the little children of all the faithful should learn letters from them. let them receive and teach these with the utmost charity, that they themselves may shine as the stars forever. let them receive no remuneration from their scholars, unless what the parents, through charity, may voluntarily offer." a council at rome, in , ordained that there should be three kinds of schools throughout christendom: episcopal, parochial in towns and villages, and others wherever there could be found place and opportunity. the council of lateran, in , ordained the establishment of a grammar school in every cathedral for the gratuitous instruction of the poor. this ordinance was enlarged and enforced by the council of lyons, in . in a word, from the days of charlemagne, in the ninth century, down to those of leo x., in the sixteenth century, free schools sprang up in rapid succession over the greater part of europe; and, mark well, it was almost always under the shadow of her churches and her monasteries! throughout the entire period, called, by ignorant bigotry, the "dark ages," roman pontiffs and catholic bishops assembled in council and enacted laws requiring the establishment of free schools in connection with all the cathedral and parochial churches. this is a fact so clearly proven by catholic and protestant historians, that to deny it would be to betray a gross ignorance of history. even at the present day, the papal states, with a population of only about , , , contain seven universities, with an average attendance of students, whilst prussia, with a population of , , , and so renowned for her education, has only seven! again, in every street in rome there are, at short distances, public primary schools for the education of the children of the middle and lower classes. rome, with a population of only about , souls, has public primary schools, with teachers, and over , children attending them, whilst berlin, with a population more than double that of rome, has only schools. thus originated the popular or common schools, or the free education of the people, as an outgrowth of the catholic church. every one knows that to the catholic church is due the preservation of literature after the downfall of the roman empire; and all those who are versed in history must admit that the popes, the rulers of the church, have been the greatest promoters and protectors of literature and learned men in every age. they collected and preserved the writings of the great historians, poets, and philosophers of greece and rome, and they encouraged and rewarded the learned men who, by their labors, made those fountains of classical literature easily accessible to all students. what shall i say of the patronage which they accorded to painting, sculpture, architecture, music, and the other arts which raise up and refine the human soul? even the present glorious pontiff, pius ix., in the midst of troubles and persecutions, has done more for education than the richest and most powerful sovereigns of the world. you will unite with me, i am sure, in praying that he may soon recover the sovereignty of rome and the papal states, and that he may live many years to defend, as he has done in the past, the cause of religion, truth, christian education, and civilization in the world. but it would take a whole day to refer even briefly to all that the catholic church and her supreme pontiffs have done to dissipate ignorance, and to improve and enlighten the mind of man. i shall merely add that a protestant writer, and an open enemy of our religion, does not hesitate to state that, acting under the guidance and protection of the holy see, some of our religious orders, which are so often assailed and calumniated, have done more for the promotion of philosophy, theology, history, archæology, and learning in general, than all the great universities of the world, with all their wealth and patronage. moreover, it is a well-known fact that the catholic church has always fought for the liberty to educate her children not only in the necessary branches of science, but also, and above all, to teach them, at the same time, their religious duties towards god and their fellow-men. and who but an infidel can blame her for that? every one must know that by the united efforts of the catholic clergy and laity, schools, colleges, seminaries, boarding-schools for ladies and boys, and other educational establishments, have been erected in almost every part of the world, and erected without a cent of public money, which was so plentifully lavished on protestant institutions. but, without leaving this country, do we not find in the various states of the union magnificent proofs of generous catholic zeal in promoting everything connected with education? and have not the parochial and religious clergy in so many places made the noblest exertions to erect institutions for the instruction of their flocks? and have not the laity assisted them in a most munificent manner? all this shows their great desire to promote the growth of knowledge. man is born a believing creature, and cannot, if he would, destroy altogether this noble attribute of his nature. if he is not taught, or will not accept, a belief in the living and uncreated god, he will create and worship some other god in his stead. he cannot rest on _pure negation_. there never has been a real, absolute unbeliever. all the so-called unbelievers are either knaves or idiots. all the gentile nations of the past have been religious people; all the pagan powers of the present are also believers. there never has been a nation without faith, without an altar, without a sacrifice. man can never, even for a single instant, escape the all-seeing eye of god, or avoid the obligations of duty imposed on him by his creator. the pantheists of ancient as well as of modern times recognize this fact, although they do not discharge their religious obligations conformably to the divine will, but make to themselves other gods instead. as there has been a religion and a ritual among all nations, tribes and peoples, so has there been also a "hierarchy" to teach this religion, and make known its obligations. these religious obligations constituted then, and constitute even now, the basis of all popular education throughout the world--christian, gentile, or pagan--there is no exception to this fact save in these _united states_ of america. chapter iii. origin of the public school system. strange as it may seem, it is a certain undeniable fact that there is not, on the entire continent of europe, or in the entire world, a single country, protestant or catholic, that upholds the pagan system of education which has been adopted in this free country. in all of them catholic and protestant children receive religious instruction, during the school-hours, from their respective pastors. the present system of the public schools in the united states professes to exclude all religious exercises. we are often told that this is the american system, and that it is very impertinent for foreigners to wish to bring religion into schools against the american idea. now the assertion that the exclusion of all religion from the schools is truly american, that it is an essential part of our national system, is utterly false. so far as any system of public schools can be said to have an american idea, the idea will be found to be "education based on religious instruction." the first schools established in the union were religious denominational schools. these schools were supported by the churches with which they were connected, and by their patrons. religious exercises formed a part of the daily duties of the class-room. the early founders of this republic were not able to understand how they could bring up their children in the knowledge, love, and service of god by banishing the bible, prayer, and religious exercises of every kind from the school. hence religion was reverenced, and its duties attended to in all institutions of learning in the country. the american system of education, in its incipiency, and for a long while, was one founded on bible-teaching and religious exercises. the present system is un-american, anti-american. now how did it happen that the primitive christian system of education became unchristian and anti-american? to make you understand more clearly the origin of the present system of the public schools, i must first show you how _secret societies seek to spread irreligious education in europe_. these societies profess the most irreligious and anti-social doctrines. among the chief means employed by them for pushing forward their diabolical principles is _education without religion_. the "international," one of the most powerful of these organizations, has lately put forward a programme, in which the following points are laid down as most necessary to be insisted upon in the agitation conducted by the socialist democratic party in switzerland: "... _compulsory and gratuitous education_ up to the completion of the fourteenth year of each child's age.... separation of the church from the state, _and also of the schools from the church_." about three short years ago a pamphlet was published in which we find detailed the efforts made in france to spread irreligion by means of bad education. the letters of eighty of the prelates of france are appended to the pamphlet. alas! the sad forebodings of that noble episcopate have been too soon and too terribly fulfilled! the following lengthy extracts are taken from the late pastoral of the bishops of ireland on christian education: "efforts to spread irreligious education in france--disastrous results in france. "'i see,' says the most reverend author, 'that for some time past the most extraordinary efforts are made in france to spread impiety, immorality, the most anti-social theories, under the pretext of spreading education. no longer as formerly, it is in newspapers and books that religion, morality, and the eternal principles of good order are attacked with the most deceitful and formidable weapon of a corrupt system of education. under cover of an excellent object--and here is the great danger, for we are deluded by this pretext--under the pretext of spreading education and waging war against ignorance, infidelity is spread, war is waged against religion; and thus, whether we will or no, we rush on to the ruin of all order, moral and social. and we, the bishops, who are as desirous as others, and perhaps more desirous than others, to see spread far and wide the blessings of education, the education of children, female education, the education of our whole people, for this is by excellence a christian work, we are accused of being enemies of education, because we oppose anti-christian and anti-social education.'" the first fact mentioned by the learned writer is the existence of schools, which are called "_professional schools for females_," into which young girls are received at twelve years of age and upwards, for the purpose of continuing their education and learning a profession. these schools have been founded by women, free-thinkers, who formally and expressly declare it to be their object to train the youth of their own sex in rationalism and infidelity. the following incident shows the impious end for which these schools have been founded: one of the principal teachers died, and over her grave her husband pronounced these words,--"i will tell you, for it is my duty to tell you, that if this funeral is that of a free-thinker" [unaccompanied by any religious ceremony], "it is so not only by my wish, but also and chiefly because such was the desire of my dear wife." he adds that she had devoted herself to "the great work of spreading education and _morality without religion_, because she had no faith except in _learning and in justice_; she was of those who, having once seen and comprehended these truths, can have no other beacon to guide them _in life, or at the hour of death_." round that grave, whose occupant had rejected religion and its ministrations in life and in death, stood three hundred girls, pupils of those "_professional schools_," holding bouquets in their hands, and throwing flowers on the coffin of their mistress. the schools are of a piece with the teachers. ten hours are spent in them, but all religious instruction is strictly forbidden, under the pretext that they are free schools, "_open to children of all persuasions, without religious distinction_." the founders of these schools propose to give to the girls intrusted to them _a moral education without ever speaking to them of religion!_ and this is the system of education which people are anxious to spread throughout france, and even in this country also. but, though we hope they will not succeed, can we feel fully confident that we shall escape the contagion, when we remember that this system is no other than the "_mixed system_," and when we bear in mind the untiring efforts which are made to develop and consolidate that system in ireland in every branch of education, from the university, through the model-school, down to the humblest village-school? read the description of the schools in france, of which we are speaking, and say, does it not apply to every school, even in ireland, where the mixed principle is thoroughly carried out? "the printed prospectus of these schools" [continues the most reverend writer] "clearly explains the advantages of professional education, while it hides the religious danger under vague expressions of an apparent liberality, such as the following: '_the school is open to children of all persuasions, without religious distinction_.' the meaning of which words is no other than that in these schools, where children are kept from the twelfth to the eighteenth year of their age, and for ten hours every day (from eight a.m. to six p.m.), god and the gospel shall be treated as if they never existed; not only religion shall never be mentioned, but these girls shall be taught morality independent of any dogmatic faith, any religion.... "the second engine used by the enemies of religion in france for the maintenance and spread of infidelity, is the educational league. this league has been introduced from belgium into france by the freemasons and the 'solidaires'--the members of an impious association, the avowed object of which is to prevent persons from receiving the sacraments, or any of the sacred rites of the church, in life or in death. the educational league, with a wonderful spirit of propagandism, has established throughout france libraries and courses of instruction for men and for women, and even for girls and young children. on their banner is inscribed 'spread of education'; but under this device is hidden the scheme of propagating irreligion. the founder of the 'league' in france[a] was a freemason, and both his declarations and those of the organs of freemasonry leave no doubt of the masonic origin of the scheme, and of the spirit which animates it. now the third article of the statutes of the 'league' declares, when speaking of the education to be given by their association, that 'neither politics nor _religion_ shall have any part in it.' and lest there should be any mistake as to the meaning of this article, one of the leading masonic journals declares that religion is 'useless as an instrument for forming the minds of children, and that from a certain point of view it is _capable of leading them to abandon all moral principles_. it is incumbent on us, therefore,' concludes this journal, 'to _exclude_ all religion. we will teach you its rights and duties in the name of liberty, of conscience, of reason, and, in fine, in the name of our society.'[b] and again: 'freemasons must give in their adhesion _en masse_ to the excellent educational league, and the lodges must in the peace of their temples seek out the best means of making it effectual. their influence in this way will be most useful. _the principles we profess are precisely in accord with those which inspired that project._'[c] in april of the same year, the same organ of freemasonry contained the following paragraph: 'we are happy to announce that the educational league and the statue of _our brother_ voltaire meet with the greatest support in all the lodges. there could not be two subscription-lists more in harmony with each other: voltaire, the representative of the destruction of prejudices and superstition; the educational league, the engine for building up a new society based _solely upon learning and instruction_. our brethren understood it so.' in fine, that there may not remain upon our minds the least doubt as to the identity of the principles of this league with those of voltaire, we find its founder in france proposing, at a great masonic dinner, a toast to the memory of that arch-infidel; while the newspaper from which we have quoted so largely, informs its readers that at one of the 'professional schools,' described above, the prize for good conduct (_le prix de morale_) was awarded to '_the daughters of a free-thinker, who have never attended any place of religious worship_.'" we cannot better conclude our remarks on the efforts made in france to destroy religion in the masses by means of education, than in the following words of warning, not less applicable to good and sincere catholics in ireland nowadays, than to those to whom they were specially addressed: "good and sincere catholics (continues the author of the pamphlet already quoted), who, deceived by the motto of the association, have given their names to this _educational league_, take part, without knowing it, in a masonic institution, and in building up this new state of society, from which religion is to be banished. well may the bishop of metz say: 'these persons forget that, like proteus in the fable, freemasonry knows how to multiply _ad infinitum_ its transformations and its names. yesterday it called itself '_les solidaires_,' or 'morality independent of religion,' or 'freedom of thought'; to-day it takes the title of an 'educational league'; to-morrow it will find some other name by which to deceive the simple." the efforts to corrupt the youth of unhappy france by means of bad education in its higher branches, have been not less energetic and wide-spread. the lectures of the school of medicine of paris were inaugurated in , amid shouts of "_materialism forever_,"[d] and on the thirtieth of december a candidate for degrees was permitted by the medical faculty to advance the following revolutionary doctrine, grounded on the materialistic principles he had been taught: "who still speaks to us of free-will? as the stone which falls to the ground obeys the laws of weight, man obeys the laws which are proper to him.... responsibility is the same for all, that is to say, _none_." and again: "physicians must not be accomplices of the magistrates and judges, who punish men for acts for which they are not responsible"--pp. , . here we have a sample of the teaching of the school of medicine of paris, not only the first medical school of france, but among the first schools of europe. and this sample is, unfortunately, not a solitary one. the medical faculty of the university of paris gave medals in for two dissertations, in one of which we find a denial of the act of creation and of god the creator, and a rejection of every metaphysical idea, _as useless and dangerous_; while human thought is set down as produced _by heat!_ in the other we read the following propositions: "matter is eternal." "the action of a _first cause_ is useless and irrational--_it is chimerical!_" again: "it is absolutely impossible to explain the existence of a creative power"; and "an immaterial being is not necessary for the production of life." and, "to attribute the phenomena of life to an immaterial soul, is to substitute a chimerical being for the hypothesis of machinists." "materialists have done good service to physiology by eliminating metaphysical entities from this study. the idea of the soul, as an immaterial power, is a mere abstraction; in fact, nothing of the kind exists." unhappily these principles, subversive of all morality, are not advanced by the aspirants only to academical distinctions; most certainly the students would not advance these theories had they not learned them from their masters. hence we find one of the professors of the university of france, in bordeaux, asserting, that "even among civilized nations moral ideas are so relative, contradictory, and dependent on exterior and individual relations, that it is impossible, and will always be impossible, to find an absolute definition of goodness."--p. , _note_. and the "medical review" published the discourse pronounced by one of the physicians of the faculty of paris, m. verneuil, over the grave of a member of their learned body, dr. foucher, in which we find the following: "'we are reproached with believing with the sages of old, that fate is blind, and as such presides over our lot. and why should we not believe it?... humbling and sad as is this admission, still we must make it: imperceptible elements of the great social organization appearing upon this earth as living beings, fragments of matter agitated by a spirit, we are born, we live, and we die, unconscious of our destiny, playing our part without any precise notion of the end, and in the midst of the darkness which covers our origin and our end, having only one consolation--the love of our fellow-man. "'this simple philosophy alone,' m. verneuil continues, 'assuages our grief and ends by drying our tears. by the side of the half-open tomb we ask, whether he whom it contains served the good cause without deceit.... if, by his intelligence or his kindness of heart, he labored in the great work, we say he has paid his part of the common debt, and whether he returns to his original nothing or not, whether he is destroyed or merely changes his form, whether he hears our words or not, we thank him in the name of the past and of the future.'" another distinguished professor published, in , _lectures on the physiology of the nervous system_, in which we find the following passage: "we admit,' he says, '_without any restriction_, that intellectual phenomena in animals are of the same order as in man....' 'as for _free-will_, we comprehend a certain kind of free-will in the more intelligent animals; and, on the other hand, we may add, that perhaps man is not so free as he would fain persuade himself he is.' and '_as to feeling the distinction between good and evil_, it is a grave question, _which we must first study in man himself!_'" let it not be supposed that these principles are merely announced as abstractions; conclusions are drawn from them which must fill every thinking mind with horror. eighty students of the normal school, the great training institution of teachers for the north of france, applauded such conclusions in a public letter. several of the infidel professors of the faculty of medicine received ovations from crowded class-rooms; millions of immoral and irreligious books were scattered throughout the country. thus freemasonry, under the pretext of combating ignorance, wages a deceitful and implacable war against religion. "we too," says the organ of freemasons,[e] "we too expect our messiah, the true messiah, of the mind and reason--universal education!" "it is scarcely necessary for us to remind you, dearly beloved brethren, that the seeds of irreligion and anarchy thus sown broadcast over the fair face of france, have already produced a too abundant harvest of evils, perhaps the most disastrous recorded on the page of history. all europe has been horrified by the atrocities perpetrated within the last few months in the name of liberty in that city, which was looked on as the centre of the civilization of the world. national monuments have been destroyed, peaceable citizens robbed and murdered, the venerable archbishop, many of the clergy, and leading members of the civil and military authorities, massacred in cold blood. in other cities of france, too, we have seen anarchy and irreligion proclaimed--miscreants in arms against the property, and liberty, and lives of their fellow-citizens, often of the helpless and unprotected; and all this at a moment when the country was invaded, and a part of it occupied, by its enemies. the storm had been sown, and in very truth unfortunate france has reaped the whirlwind. "spread of infidelity through bad education not confined to france. "and unhappily, dearly beloved brethren, the spread of infidel principles by means of bad education is not confined to france. a few years ago a congress of students was held in liège, in belgium, where infidel and anti-social principles in their worst form were proclaimed amidst the plaudits of the assembly. in england irreligion and socialism are publicly taught. even in our own country it is a matter of notoriety, that a chair in one of the queen's colleges has been occupied since their foundation by a gentleman, who, in a published work, extolled the first french revolution, and, in another place of the same book, compared our saviour, whose name be praised forever, to luther and to mahomet! again: in trinity college one of the fellows denies the fundamental truth of christianity respecting the eternity of the punishment of sin; and others call in question the inspiration of the holy scriptures, or of portions of them, and impugn many truths which constitute the foundation of all revealed religion. in the same university, too, the doctrines of positivism, a late form of infidel philosophy, have a large number of followers. the nature of that philosophy may be gathered from the following passages in the 'catechism of positivism, or summary exposition of the universal religion,' translated from the french of auguste comte. the preface begins thus: "'in the name of the past and of the future, the servants of humanity--both its philosophical and practical servants--come forward to claim, as their due, the general direction of this world. their object is to constitute at length a real providence in all departments--moral, intellectual, and material. consequently they exclude, once for all, from political supremacy, all the different servants of god--catholic, protestant, or deist--as being at once behind-hand and a cause of disturbance.' "the work consists of 'thirteen systematic conversations between a woman and a priest of humanity,' and the doctrines contained in it are epitomized in the following blasphemous lines: "_'in a word, humanity definitely occupies the place of god, but she does not forget the services which the idea of god provisionally rendered.'_ "testimony of rev. professor liddon. "again, during the last two sessions of parliament, a select committee of the house of lords sat to inquire into the condition of the english universities. the marquis of salisbury was the chairman. the evidence taken before that committee reveals the appalling fact that infidelity, or doubt as to the first principles of the christian religion, nay, of belief in god, is wide-spread in the universities of england, and especially among the most intellectual of the students; and that this sad result is due in a great measure to the teaching and examinations. in the first report for the session , pp. , , and , in the evidence of the rev. professor liddon, d.d., canon of st. paul's, london, and professor of exegesis in the university of oxford, we find the following passages: _"quest._ . _chairman._--'very strong evidence has been given to us upon the influence of the final school' (the examination for degrees with honors) 'upon oxford thought, as tending to produce at least momentary disbelief.' "_witness._--'i have no doubt whatever it is one of the main causes of our present embarrassments.' " .--'that, i suppose, is a comparatively new phenomenon?' "'yes; it dates from the last great modification in the system pursued in the honors school of _literæ humaniores_. it is mainly the one-sided system, as i should venture to call it, of modern philosophical writers.' " .--'is there any special defect in the management which produces this state of things, or is it essential to the nature of the school?' "'i fear it is to a great extent essential to the nature of the school, as its subjects are at present distributed.' "again, in answer to question , the same witness says: "'i ought to have stated to the noble chairman just now that cases have come within my own experience of men who have come up from school as christians, and have been earnest christians up to the time of beginning to read philosophy for the final school, but who, during the year and a half or two years employed in this study, have surrendered first their christianity, and next their belief in god, and have left the university not believing in a supreme being.'" now what kind of a being is the infidel, or the man without religion? to have no religion is a crime, and to boast of having none is the height of folly. he that has no religion must necessarily lose the esteem and confidence of his friends. what confidence, i ask, can be placed in a man who has no religion, and, consequently, no knowledge of his duties? what confidence can you place in a man who never feels himself bound by any obligation of conscience, who has no higher motive to direct him than his self-love, his own interests? the pagan roman, though enlightened only by reason, had yet virtue enough to say: "i live not for _myself_, but for the republic"; but the infidel's motto is: "i live only for myself; i care for no one but myself." oh, what a monster would such a man be in society were he really to think as he speaks, and to act as he thinks! a man who has no religion, must first prove that he is honest before we can believe him to be so. it is said of kings and rulers, they must prove that they have a heart, and it may also be said of the man who has no religion, that _he must prove_ that he has a _conscience._ and i fear he would not find it so easy a task. a man without religion is a man without reason, a man without principle, a man sunk in the grossest ignorance of what religion is. he blasphemes what he does not understand. he rails at the doctrines of christianity, without really knowing what these doctrines are. he sneers at the doctrines and practices of religion, because he cannot refute them. he speaks with the utmost gravity of the fine arts, the fashions, and even matters the most trivial, and he turns into ridicule the most sacred subjects. in the midst of his own circle of fops and silly women, he utters his shallow conceits with all the pompous assurance of a pedant. the man without religion is a dishonest plagiarist, who copies from christian writers all the objections made against the church by the infidels of former and modern times; but he takes good care to omit all the excellent answers and complete refutations which are contained in these very same writings. his object is not to seek the truth, but to propagate falsehood. the man without religion is a slave of the most degrading superstition. instead of worshipping the true, free, living god, who governs all things by his providence, he bows before the horrid phantom of blind chance or inexorable destiny. he is a man who obstinately refuses to believe the most solidly-established facts in favor of religion, and yet, with blind credulity, greedily swallows the most absurd falsehoods uttered _against religion_. he is a man whose reason has fled, and whose passions speak, object and decide in the name of reason. the man without religion often pretends to be an infidel merely in order to appear fashionable. he is usually conceited, obstinate, puffed up with pride, a great talker, always shallow and fickle, skipping from one subject to another without even thoroughly examining a single one. at one moment he is a deist, at another a materialist, then he is a sceptic, and again an atheist; always changing his views, but always a slave of his passions, always an enemy of christ. the man without religion is a slave of the most shameful passions. he tries to prove to the world that man is a brute, in order that he might have the gratification of leading the life of a brute. i ask you, what virtue can that man have who believes that whatever he desires is lawful, who designates the most shameful crimes by the refined name of innocent pleasures? what virtue can that man have who knows no other law than his passions; who believes that god regards with equal eye truth and falsehood, vice and virtue? he may indeed practise some natural virtues, but these virtues are in general only _exterior_. they are practised merely out of human respect; they do not come from the heart. now the seat of true virtue is in the heart, and not in the exterior. he that acts merely to please man and not to please god, has no real virtue. the man without religion often praises all religions; he is a true knave. he says: "if i were to choose my religion, i would become a catholic, for it is the most reasonable of all religions." but in his heart he despises all religion. he is a man who scrapes together all the wicked and absurd calumnies he can find against the church. he falsely accuses her of teaching monstrous doctrines which she has always abhorred and condemned, and he displays his ingenuity by combating those monstrous doctrines which he himself has invented, or copied from authors as dishonest as himself. the infidel is a monster without faith, without law, without religion, without god. there are many who call themselves "free-thinkers," many who reject all revealed religion, merely out of silly puerile vanity. they affect singularity in order to attract notice, in order to make people believe that they are strong-minded, that they are independent. poor deluded slaves of human respect! they affect singularity in order to attract notice, and they forget that there is another class of people in the world also noted for singularity. in fact they are so singular that they have to be shut up for safe keeping in a mad-house. what is the difference between an infidel and a madman? the only difference is, that the madness of the infidel is wilful, while the madness of the poor lunatic is entirely involuntary. the one arouses our compassion, while the other excites our contempt and just indignation. finally, the man without religion says: "there is no god." he says so "_in his heart_", says holy writ; he says not so in his head, because he knows better. let him be in imminent danger of death, or of a considerable loss of fortune, and you will see how quick, on such occasions, he lays aside the mask of infidelity; he makes his profession of faith in an almighty god; he cries out: "lord save me, i am perishing! lord have mercy on me!" and the like. there is still another proof to show that the infidel does not believe what he says: why is it that he makes his impious doctrines the subject of conversation on every occasion? it is, of course, first to communicate his devilish principles to others, and make them as bad as he himself is; but this is not the only reason. the good catholic seldom speaks of his religion; he feels assured, by the grace of god, that his religion is the only true one, and that he will be saved if he lives up to his religion. this, however, is not the case with the infidel. he is constantly tormented in his soul. "there is no peace, no happiness for the impious," says holy scripture.--(isa. xlviii. .) he tries to quiet the fears of his soul, the remorse of his conscience. so he communicates to others, on every occasion, his perverse principles, hoping that he may meet with some of his fellow-men who may approve of his impious views, and that thus he may find some relief for his interior torments. he resembles a timid night-traveller. a timid man, who is obliged to travel during a dark night, begins to sing and to cry in order to keep away too great fear. the infidel is a sort of night-traveller; he certainly travels in the horrible darkness of his impiety. his interior conviction tells him that there is a god, who will certainly punish him in the most frightful manner. this fills him with great fear, and makes him extremely unhappy every moment of his life. he cannot bear the sight of a catholic church, of a catholic procession, of an image of our lord, of a picture of a saint, of a prayer-book, of a good catholic, of a priest; in a word, he cannot bear anything that reminds him of god, of religion, of his guilt, and of his impiety. so he cries, on every occasion, against faith in god, in all that god has revealed and proposes to us for our belief by the holy church. what is the object of his impious cries? it is to deafen, to keep down in some measure, the clamors of his bad conscience. our hand will involuntarily touch that part of the body where we feel pain. so, in like manner, the tongue of the infidel touches, on all occasions, involuntarily as it were, upon all those truths of our holy religion which inspire him with fear of the judgments of almighty god. he feels but too keenly that he cannot do away with god and his sacred religion, by denying his existence. i have given you the true portrait--the true likeness--of the man without religion. were you given to see a devil and the soul of an infidel at the same time, you would find the sight of the devil more bearable than that of the infidel. for st. james the apostle tells us, that "the devil believes and trembles."--(chap. ii. .) now the public school system was invented and introduced into this country to turn the rising generations into men of the above description. _spread of infidelity through bad education in america; or, the object of the public school system._ mr. o. a. brownson, in his book "the convert," chaps. vii. and viii., gives us the following information on the origin of the public schools in this country: "frances wright was born in scotland, and inherited a considerable property. she had been highly educated, and was a woman of rare original powers, and extensive and varied information. she was brought up in the utilitarian principles of jeremy bentham. she visited this country in . returning to england in , she wrote a book in a strain of almost unbounded eulogy of the american people and their institutions. she saw only one stain upon the american character, one thing in the condition of the american people to censure or to deplore--that was negro-slavery. "when, in the next year, mr. owen came, with his friends, to commence his experiment of creating a new moral world at new harmony, frances wright came with him, not as a full believer in his crotchets, but to try an experiment, devised with jefferson, lafayette, and others, for the emancipation of the negro-slave. "fanny wright, however, failed in her negro experiment. she soon discovered that the american people were not, as yet, prepared to engage in earnest for the abolition of slavery. on more mature reflection she came to the conclusion that slavery must be abolished only as the result of a general emancipation, and a radical reform of the american people themselves. "the first step to be taken for this purpose was to rouse the american mind to a sense of its rights and dignity, to emancipate it from superstition, from its subjection to the clergy, and its fear of unseen powers, to withdraw it from the contemplation of the stars or an imaginary heaven after death, and fix it on the great and glorious work of promoting _man's earthly well-being_. "the second step was, by political action, to get adopted, at the earliest practical moment, a system of state schools, in which all the children from two years old and upward should be fed, clothed, in a word, maintained, instructed, and educated at the public expense. "in furtherance of the first object, fanny prepared a course of lectures on _knowledge_, which she delivered in the principal cities of the union. she thought that she possessed advantages in the fact that she was a woman; for there would, for that reason, be a greater curiosity to hear her, and she would be permitted to speak with greater boldness and directness against the clergy and superstition than would be one of the other sex. "the great measure, however, on which fanny and her friends relied for ultimate success, was the system of public schools. these schools were intended to deprive, as well as to relieve, parents of all care and responsibility of their children after a year or two years of age. it was assumed that parents were, in general, incompetent to train up their children, provide proper establishments, teachers and governors for them, till they should reach the age of majority. "the _aim_ was, on the one hand, to relieve marriage of its burdens, and to remove the principal reasons for making it _indissoluble_; and, on the other hand, to provide for bringing up all children, in a rational manner, to be reasonable men and women, that is, _free from superstition, free from all belief in god and immortality_, free from all regard for the invisible, and make them look _upon this life_ as _their only life_, this earth as their only home, and _the promotion of their earthly interests and enjoyments as their only end_. the three great enemies to earthly happiness were held to be religion, marriage, or family and private property. once get rid of these three institutions, and we may hope soon to realize our earthly paradise. for religion is to be substituted science, that is, science of the world, of the five senses only; for private property, a community of goods; and for private families, a community of wives. "fanny wright and her school saw clearly that their principles could not be carried into practice in the present state of society. so they proposed them to be adopted only by a future generation, trained and prepared in a system of schools founded and sustained by the public. they placed their dependence on education in a system of _public schools_, managed after a plan of william phiquepal, a frenchman, and subsequently the husband of fanny wright. "in order to get their system of schools adopted, they proposed to organize the whole union, secretly, very much on the plan of the carbonari of europe. the members of this secret society were to avail themselves of all the means in their power, each in his own locality, to form public opinion in favor of education by the state at the public expense, and to get such men elected to the legislatures as would be likely to favor their purposes. this secret organization commenced in the state of new york, and was to extend over the whole union. mr. o. a. brownson was one of the agents for organizing the state of new york. he, however, became tired of the work, and abandoned it after a few months." * * * * * "the attention of so-called philanthropic men in all parts of the country, was directed to the subject. in , and the following years, commenced what has been improperly termed a revival of education. to form public opinion in favor of public schools, the following means were employed: public school societies and organizations were established in new york, philadelphia, boston, portland, lancaster, pittsburgh, worcester, hartford, lowell, providence, cincinnati, etc.; thomas h. gallaudet, james g. carter, and walter r. johnson, made great efforts through the press; there were established the 'american journal of education,' in january, , and the 'american annals of education.' conventions were held throughout new england from to , in behalf of public schools; lectures were delivered in every precinct in the states, on the subject of education; there were also established local school periodicals, as well as others of a more general character, to contribute towards forming public opinion in favor of public schools, in every corner of the country. all these means, and the zealous and unwearied efforts of horace mann, henry barnard, and others, have contributed towards the success in establishing the public schools in our country."--_american encyclopædia_. this is a brief history of the public schools. it tells, in clear terms, all that they are, and all that they are to bring about, namely: a generation without belief in god and immortality, free from all regard for the invisible--a generation that looks upon this life as their only life, this earth as their only home, and the promotion of their earthly interests and enjoyments as their only end--a generation that looks upon religion, marriage, or family and private property as the greatest enemies to worldly happiness--a generation that substitutes science of this world for religion, a community of goods for private property, a community of wives for private family; in other words, a generation that substitutes the devil for god, hell for heaven, sin and vice for virtue and holiness of life. we may, then, confidently assert that the defenders and upholders of _public schools without religion_ seek in america, as well as in europe, to turn the people into refined pagans. they recently betrayed themselves. they wish, as dr. wehrenphennig and dr. wirgow openly said, for an equalization of religious contradictories, a religion and an education which stands above creeds, and knows nothing about dogmas; in other words, they wish for a religion of which a certain poet says: "my religion is to have no religion." the object, then, of these godless, irreligious _public schools_ is to spread among the people the worst of religions, the _no religion_, the religion which pleases most hardened adulterers and criminals--the religion of irrational animals. how far this diabolical scheme has succeeded is well known, for there are at present from twenty to twenty-five millions of people in the united states who profess no distinct religious belief. everywhere the same effects have been observed. licentiousness, cruelty, and vice--"positivism," or the substitution of the harlotry of the passions for the calm and elevating influences of reason and religion. how can it be otherwise? footnotes: [a] jean macé. [b] "_la solidarite." _(le monde maconnique, october, [ ], p. .) [c] "_la solidarite." _(le monde maconnique, february, [ ].) [d] vive le materialisme. [e] le monde maconnique, june, . chapter iv. expose of the public school system. it is a fundamental principle of christianity, admitted even by protestants, that man cannot reach his destiny without a knowledge of the religion which jesus christ taught, and which he sealed with his precious blood. now this fundamental principle is virtually ignored in our present school system, which proposes to educate without religion. the whole course of instruction is imparted without any reference to religion, without any of those occasional observations that are so necessary in our days, and especially in this country, in order to explain the seeming inconsistencies between scientific facts and the doctrines of faith. instruction, to be useful, must show that the discoveries of science are, as is really the case, evidences of religion. it must show the harmony that exists between history and philosophy and the truths of faith. secular knowledge should be the handmaid of religion; but no religion, no knowledge of god, is permitted to be taught in these schools. let a stranger, say an educated pagan, enter one of our public schools; will he discover sign, symbol or token of any kind to indicate that either the teacher or children are christians? or suppose this pagan, or a turk, or atheist sends children there to be educated, they can do so with perfect safety to their pagan, mohammedan, or infidel superstitions or opinions. they will not, through the whole course of instruction, hear a prayer, a lecture, or a single advice, lesson, or precept of the church; they will, as far as the state plan of teaching extends, remain ignorant of the "holy name of god," or the blessed trinity, or the lord's prayer, or the ten commandments, or the gospels, or the death and sufferings of our lord, or the resurrection of the body, or a future state of reward and punishment. _no prayer_ is offered up or even permitted to be taught to those little ones whom our lord loves so tenderly. the teacher is not even permitted by law to explain what is meant by the term "our saviour," "our redeemer"! should a child ask, in a reading-lesson, what "our lord and saviour" meant, the teacher must tell him: "hush! if you want to know that you must ask somebody out of school! we don't teach anything about religion here! we have no lord, or god, or saviour here!" in reference to this manner of educating the youth of america, the protestant bishop of tennessee said some time ago: "the secular system took no notice of god or of christ, or of the church of the living god, or, except in the most incidental way, of god's holy word. the intellect was stimulated to the highest degree, but the heart and the affections were left uncultivated. it was a system which trained for the business of life, not for the duties of life. as there were differences of opinion about christianity, it was not allowed to be spoken of, and a knowledge of it was not one of the qualifications for a teacher. a man might be a mohammedan or a hindoo if he were only a proficient in geography, arithmetic, or the exact sciences. the teachers in the normal schools might be infidels provided they did not openly inculcate their scepticism; and, in point of fact, in the schools which were designed to train teachers only, a vast majority were not christians." the school-books must be made unchristian lest they give offence to the countless sects of protestantism. voltaire, paine, or renan may be read in the public schools, but nothing of god. if our public schools differ in any degree from the ancient heathen, it is to our greater shame and confusion, and to their advantage. they taught piety to "_their gods_;" we ignore the _true god altogether_, and bring the false gods of the heathens down to earth to be made the slaves and instruments of our sensual gratifications. thus the mind of the child is, and remains, a religious void; at least, there is but a religious mist in his intellect. the child even unlearns, in the society of the school, whatever principles of religion he may have learned from his parents. the present common school system of education necessarily begets contempt of religion. men trained under such a system learn to look upon religion as a dress which is to be worn only on sunday, and to be laid aside during the rest of the week; they look upon religion as something which may do very well in the church, or in the meeting-house, but which is entirely out of place in business, in society, and in the daily transactions of life. the child has logic enough to think that he is taught whatever is necessary for his future career, and that religion must not be necessary, otherwise it would be taught in school. and what will the child learn, in this pagan system of education, to press down his rising passions? what precept of positive virtue does he learn? what principle of self-restraint? what does he learn in such a school to make him obedient, honest, chaste, a good citizen, a good christian? the common school system proceeds on the principle of suffering the passions of youth to take any development which fallen nature may bring about, and then trusting to a riper age for a change for the better, just as if it were possible "to gather grapes of briars, or figs of thorns." in these public schools the whole education of children is directed to the cultivation of their heads or intellectual faculties alone. the heart, with all its moral and mysterious emotions, is entirely neglected. every mental power and acquirement is intended and directed to promote their prosperity, success, and happiness in this life; at least this is what is sought and promised as the reward of study and application. they are constantly presented with the bright side of the world. scientific knowledge, they are taught, will do away with the old drudgery of labor, and bring the acquirement of wealth and honor within the reach of all, no matter how poor or humble the condition of their fathers or mothers. they have all, no doubt, read the declaration of independence, and learned that all men are created free and equal. they have shared the equal bounty of the state in the way of education, and have, in the language of the day, "an equal right on the world for a living." i ask if this is not a pretty fair and not overdrawn statement of the case? you will bear in mind that all this time the free-and-easy social intercourse of the sexes is going on; that while their studies and exercises are strictly confined to dry, secular knowledge, or such other pursuits as might excite their vanity, pride, or imagination, not one line or lesson, caution or command, as stated before, is used or administered to curb or control the natural, i might say inevitable, cry of the youthful passions clamoring for their gratification. chapter v. evil consequences of the public school system on the male portion of society. let us now suppose the young men educated under the present public school system fairly launched into the world, and, for the first time, thrown on their own resources. they are all well, indeed _over-educated._ the greater part of their families are necessarily in poor or moderate circumstances. will their learned and accomplished sons take the humble and laborious trades or occupations of their fathers? i fear not. we should not expect more from human nature than there is in it. all these fine young public school graduates cannot get nice situations as clerks, professors, editors, teachers, etc., etc., and the professions are all full to overflowing. you must remember that, as i have said, not one of the boys have ever been taught the first principle, prayer, or moral duty. they are, as far as the public school-training went, perfectly ignorant of the divine law as rule of our life; they are, in fact, but educated apes or animals. how can this young man reconcile "poverty and wealth," "labor and ease," "sickness and health," "adversity and prosperity," "rich and poor," "obedience and authority," "liberty and law," etc., etc. all these are enigmas to him, or, if he affects to understand them at all, he thinks they arise from bad management or bad government, and can and ought to be remedied by repression or sumptuary legislation. he will be a tyrant or slave, a glutton or miser, a fanatic or libertine, a sneak-thief or highway robber, as circumstances may influence him. think you that the common "fall back" on principle of self-interest--well or ill understood--will ever restrain such a one from doing any act of impulse or indulgence, provided he thinks it can be safely done? he will look on life as a game of address or force, in which the best man is he who carries off the prize. he will look upon power as belonging of right to the strongest; the weak, or those who differ from him in opinion, he will treat with contempt and cruelty, and will think they have no rights he is bound to respect. in power, such a man will be arbitrary and cruel; out of power, he will be faithless, hypocritical and subservient. trust him with authority, he will abuse it; trust him with money, he will steal it; trust him with your confidence, and he will betray it. such a man--pagan and unprincipled as he is--may nevertheless affect, when it suits his purpose, great religious zeal and purity. he will talk of "_philanthropy_" and the "_humanities_," have great compassion, perhaps, for "a dray-horse," and give the cold shoulder to the houseless pauper or orphan. the heart of such a man is cold, insincere, destitute of every tender chord for a tender vibration, of every particle of right or just feeling or principle that can be touched; on the contrary, it is roused to rage, revenge and falsehood if interfered with. how is such a heart to be touched or moved, or placed under such influences as could move it? indeed, it would require a miracle! nay, even a miracle would fail to make a salutary impression upon such a heart. a french infidel declared that, should he be told that the most remarkable miracle was occurring close by his house, he would not take a step out of his way to see it. pride never surrenders; it prefers rather to take an illogical position than to bow even to the authority of reason. furious, beside itself, and absurd, it revolts against evidence. to all reasoning, to undeniable evidence, the infidel--the man without religion--opposes his own will: "such is my determination." it is sweet to him to be stronger, single-handed, than common sense, stronger than miracles, than even the god who manifests himself by them. such a man is always in favor of _strong government_, provided he can get to run it. he will talk loudly of loyalty and the "_life of the nation_." he worships the _state_, because, to his gross animal understanding, it represents _power_, and makes money his god, because it gives him this power. such a man may be called civilized, but he is only an _accomplished barbarian_. his head and hands are instructed, his heart, and low passions and appetites, unbridled and untamed. such a man can never be made to understand the beautiful and benign principles of our republican form of government. like all brutes, he relies on force, and tries and judges every issue by success. what he calls "_the final arbitrament of arms_" is to such a one a righteous decision, provided always it be in his favor. he may affect the demagogue, and talk loudly about the power of the people, but you will observe that this refers to them _en masse_, in the whole or concrete. he cannot understand the individual man as entitled to any consideration or rights (unless he happened to be made rich) independently of the state. indeed, he looks upon poor men as made for the state, and it can be only on this ground that he claims the children as its property--"children of the state"!! he insists on educating them by the _state_, and for the state, and not for the comfort and support of their fathers and mothers, nor that they should thereby fulfil the immortal destiny for which they were created. he holds the life, the dignity, the comfort or happiness of the family or individual as nought in the balance against "_the life, the power, the wealth and glory of the nation_." "_perish the people_--live the state"; this is his motto, and such have ever been the principles and motto of all pagans from the beginning. chapter vi. evil consequences of the public school system on the female portion of society. what i have said in the preceding chapter is but a faint picture of the bad effects of what is called _polite education_, as given in the public schools, on the male portion of society. it is with some reluctance that i am now going to trace the same evil influence in its still more injurious consequences on the female portion. it is very difficult to treat this part of the subject with the necessary freedom, not only on account of its intrinsic delicacy, but also because of that false (and indeed to themselves injurious) idea that there is nothing wanting to the absolute perfection of our women. let it not be said, that in calling public attention to these evil consequences on the female portion of the community, we are overstepping the boundaries of propriety or decency. there is a license for the poet; a license for the stage; a license for the bar; a license for the writer of fiction; a license for the press, and why should there not be a license for a christian writer? it is high time for _true_ modesty to take the place of that _false modesty_ which has driven virtue, like an exile, out of the land, and peopled it largely with fourrierites, owenites, and other socialists and free-lovers. now, whatever success a "godless system of education" may have on boys, i think all must admit that it must prove not only a failure, but a positive injury, to girls. it is not that moral and religious education is not equally required by both, in a spiritual sense, but that women, in an especial manner, have certain duties assigned them, in the order of providence, of so high and holy a character, that it requires, in some sense, a special education to fit them for the faithful discharge of these duties. let us remember that the public school-girls of to-day will be the mothers of to-morrow. mothers are called by god to take particular care of the bodily and spiritual life of their children. this care is a heavy, a very heavy burden indeed, and mothers cannot carry this burden without a tender love for their children. now god has made the love of mothers for their children a necessary love. it is for this reason that there is no command in the divine law for parents to love their children, whilst, on the contrary, children are commanded to love their parents. love towards one's own offspring is a love so deeply planted in the heart by nature herself, that the wild beasts never fail to love their young. it is said that even tigers, hearing the cry of their whelps when they are taken by the hunters, will plunge into the sea to swim after the vessels where they are confined. a mother's love is proverbial. indeed, there is no love so pure and so thoroughly disinterested as the love of a good mother for her child. her love knows no change; brothers and sisters have forgotten each other; fathers have proved unforgiving to their children; husbands have been false to their wives, and wives to their husbands, and children too often forget their parents; but you rarely hear of a mother forgetting even her ungrateful, disobedient children, whose actions have lacerated her heart, and caused dark shadows to glide before her eyes, and enter her very soul. still there are moments when her faithful heart yearns towards them; there are moments when the reminiscences of the happy _past_ obliterate the _present_ sorrow, and the poor wounded spirit is cheered for a while, because there is still one of the fibres of the root of hope left in her forlorn breast, and a languid smile will flit over her wan and prematurely faded face. yes, she forgives, though there is no river lethe for her to drink from in this life; showing that her love is the most pure in this world, and the nearest approach to the love that god has so graciously bestowed upon her. some years ago a vessel sailed from the coast of ireland. it was filled with passengers who were coming to this country to better their future. the vessel set sail with a favorable wind. the sky was clear, and the sun shone gayly upon the sparkling sea. but suddenly the heavens grew dark. a fierce storm arose. the winds howled madly around the vessel. the ship was hurried on--on, till it was dashed against the rocks. the wild, surging waves dashed over it. the vessel split in twain. part remained hanging amid the rocks, and the rest sank, with those on board, beneath the waves, far down into the depth of the sea. the storm continued to rage for several days. at last, when the wind had died away, some hardy fishermen, who lived on the coast, took a skiff and rowed out to the wreck. they entered the part of the vessel that remained hanging amid the rocks. they broke open the cabin door. they heard distinctly the feeble wail of a child. they rushed in. they found a little babe lying upon the breast of its dead mother. the child was eagerly sucking the blood which oozed from a large wound in its mother's breast. the mother had died of cold and hunger; but, even amid her fearful sufferings, she did not forget her child. she took a sharp knife, and, with the wonderful love of a mother's heart, she made a deep gash in her breast, in order that her child might preserve its life by drinking her own heart's blood! and when the darling child of the christian mother is on the point of death, ah! how tender is not her prayer to the author of life that he spare the child. "oh, god of mercy," she prays, "spare my child! heaven is already full of light and gladness. do not then take to heaven the light and joy of my heart. thou art ever happy, o my god! do not then deprive me of my only happiness. god of compassion, o leave me the sweet babe whom thou hast given me! my love, and all my happiness, is centred in him. since he has come to me, the earth, and sea, and sky, the whole world around has grown doubly beautiful. the air seems filled with light, and song, and sweetness. ah, do not take my child away, for when his tender body lies beneath the sod, my heart and life shall lie there with it, and this whole world shall grow dark and dreary as one vast gloomy graveyard. o god! remember i am yet so young. i am not used to tears. deal gently with my poor weak heart! i have never yet known what it is to lose a friend, a relative, or beloved one. o god! shall, then, the first that teaches me the dread meaning of grave and shroud be my own, my first-born child? o jesus, i conjure thee, by thy wounded heart--wounded for love of me--do not crush my tender heart, for thou hast made it tender. thou hast made me a mother; oh, spare my darling child!" ah! who can measure the depth of the wonderful love of a mother's heart! but this natural love of a mother for her offspring, in order to be persevering and untiring, must be cultivated--must be ennobled and supernaturalized by religious education; otherwise this love will decrease, and be lost in the end, and with the loss of this love the christian woman has lost her divine calling. now as no religious education is imparted to the girls in the public schools, can we wonder to see thousands and thousands of them who have lost their divine calling--can we wonder that we hear of a countless number of unnatural crimes, committed under the veil of marriage, that are becoming so common at the present day? dr. storer, of massachusetts, declares that increase of children in massachusetts is limited almost wholly to the foreign population. mr. warren johnson, state superintendent of common schools in maine, reports to the legislature a decrease of , , between the ages of four and twenty-one years, from the census of . total decrease from maximum of is nearly , . mr. johnson asks: "are the modern fashionable criminalities of infanticide creeping into our state community?" dr. h. r. storer, of massachusetts, in , declared that forced abortions in america were of frequent occurrence, and that this frequency was increasing so, that from in , of the population in , it had risen to in in ; and dr. kyle, of xenia, ohio, asserted that abortions occurred most frequently among those who are known as the better class; among church members, and those generally who pretend to be the most polite, virtuous, moral and religious. and, without mincing matters at all, this eminent physician boldly declares that "a venal press, a demoralized clergy, and the prevalence of medical charlatanism, are the principal causes of the fearful increase of this abominable crime." the paucity of children in the families of wealthy and well-to-do americans has been publicly noticed and commented upon time and again; but the true cause thereof, if known, was carefully concealed. and can we wonder that the crime has descended from the highest to the lowest, and now pervades all classes of society? statistics have been frequently published to show that in certain states of the union, and in certain districts of those states, the births did not, and do not, equal the deaths; and were it not for the foreign population among us many of those districts, and not a few of those states, would be depopulated in a few years. massachusetts and new york lead the van in this criminal record. dr. t. a. reamy, of zanesville, ohio, in , wrote, that after a careful survey of the field he was ready to say that "to-day no sin approaches with such stealth and dangerous power the altars of the church as foeticide; and, unless it can be stayed, not only will it work its legitimate moral depravity and social ruin, but (he believed) god will visit dreadful judgment upon us no less severe, perhaps, than he did upon the cities of the plain." in , dr. morse stewart, of detroit, michigan, declared that few of either sex entered the marital relation without full information as to the ways and means of destroying the legitimate results of matrimony. and among married persons so extensive has this practice become, that people of high repute not only commit this crime, but do not even blush to speak boastingly among their intimates of the deed, and the means of accomplishing it. dr. nathan allen, of lowell, mass., at a meeting of the social science association, boston, entitled "wanted--more mothers," remarked "that the increase of population for twenty-five years has been mainly in cities and towns, and it will be found to be largely made up of foreign element; and in the smaller villages, chiefly american, the stock has hardly increased at all. "we find there are absolutely more deaths than births among the strictly american children; so that, aside from immigration, and births of children of foreign parentage, the population of massachusetts is really decreasing. "another fact developed by report is, that whereas, in , nearly one-half of the population of massachusetts was under fifteen years of age, it is believed that, at the _present_ time, _not_ more than _one-fifth_ of the purely american population is under that age. in an equal number of american and foreign families, the births will be nearly three times as many in the latter as in the former. in some of the old towns, the records of a hundred years do not show a single instance of a married couple without children. the new york census of shows that, out of nine hundred and ninety-three thousand two hundred and thirty-six married women, one hundred and thirty-seven thousand seven hundred and forty-five had no children, and three hundred and thirty-three thousand only had one or two. "in the small town of billerica, there are ninety families with ten or more children; five of these had fourteen, and one twenty-one: the total in the ninety families is ten hundred and ninety-three. the birth-rates show that american families _do not_ increase at _all_, and the inspection of the registration in other states shows that the same remark applies to all." many parts of vermont are undergoing a gradual depopulation. sandgate had a population of , in , and in . the town of rupert had a population of , in , which had diminished to , in . the town of arlington was settled in the year . in the year all the arable and pasturage land was occupied, and the inhabitants numbered , . in the number had decreased to , , and in to , . mrs. a. b. boone says, in her book "the increase of crime," "i have frequently heard women say 'i don't mind having one or two children, but no more for me.' when i first heard these expressions i thought it merely a joke, but eventually i found out they _meant_ what they said, and i was amazed. and when these women do condescend to have one or two children, what sort of a lifelong inheritance are they giving their offspring? ill-health even unto death. frequently i come in contact with women of thirty, and even twenty-five, so debilitated that they are far more fit for hospitals than to fill the sacred office of either wife or mother. "i am sorry to add that the crime of _child-murder_ is carried on to the greatest extent among the wealthy. in cambridgeport, a medical lady informed me that she was continually applied to for this purpose, and always refused in the most decided manner; but, to her knowledge, one woman performed, on an average, from a hundred to a hundred and fifty cases in a week. and yet churches abound in this place. "the rev. dr. todd has written two most truthful lectures, one entitled 'fashionable murders,' and the other 'a cloud with a dark lining.' his revelations with regard to the determination that the americans evince not to have children, is fearfully true, more especially among the women. "speaking of having children, reminds me of a circumstance that happened some fifteen years ago. i had a letter of introduction to a lady who wished to engage my children to read at a party she was about to give. she received me with an air of melancholy politeness, at the same time informing me that the gathering was postponed, as dear little fanny was 'real sick.' i saw a wine-glass and teaspoon on the table by the side of the sofa, which had a small blanket on it bound with sky-blue ribbon, covering up something that i supposed to be a sick child. i approached, and gently drew aside the blanket. i jumped back--it was a poodle-dog, whose black eyes winked at me as if about to cry: a sort of appeal for sympathy shone in its glowing orbs. i was almost convulsed with laughter, it was so unexpected. when able to speak, i said, 'pardon me, madam, for laughing; but i thought it was a baby.' she replied indignantly, 'oh, dear, no! i never had a baby; nor i don't want one either!' and it would be a blessing, i say, if such women as these _never_ became mothers. when i was a young girl, and heard people say they hated children, and saw them fondling dogs, and feeding kittens with a spoon because the _old cat_ was too weak to attend to so many, and knew, at the same time, that poor _human mothers_ were compelled (just as _slaves once_ were) to separate from their husbands and children when _poverty_ demanded that they should go into the '_union_,' or, rather, _dis_union--i say, when i pondered on these things, thoughts would flit through my mind, whether, when death severed the body from the _souls_ of these people, that their spirits were not instantly infused into cats and dogs, and that they came back in those shapes as a penance for their _brutality_ to mankind, and their _loving-kindness_ to _brutes_. however, we never went to the party. the woman remarked to a friend that she thought me devoid of all feeling, to laugh at a little, sick, _innocent_ dog! "three doors from the rooms i lived in is the stylish house of dr. and mrs. grindle, where there are hundreds of 'fashionable murders' committed yearly. and twice the papers have teemed with accounts of the unhappy mothers dying, and on the last occasion the child was not to be found, although born alive--and nothing done to either the doctor or his lady!" a gentleman of one of the smaller towns of connecticut writes to the _independent_ as follows: "i have just read, with great interest, your editorial on the 'murder of helplessness.' the paper will go into hundreds of families where the crime is practised, to bear witness against it; for, thank god, it is fashionable to take the _independent_. for more than a year it has been on my mind to write to you upon this question. you will have the thanks of every well-wisher of the human race. but you make a great mistake when you speak of the crime of foeticide as being confined to the large cities. it prevails all over the country. i dare not tell you what i know--and the information has been given me unsolicited--in reference to this horrid practice in the land. i do not believe there is a village in the new england states but this crime is practised more or less. there are men who make it their business, with medicine and instruments, to carry on this slaughter. and even m.d.'s (physicians) in good and regular standing in the church have practised it. men are making here, in this highly moral state, $ , and $ , a year in the small towns alone, at this business. their patients are from the highly religious and fashionable to the low and vicious. their scale of charges is according to the cupidity and size of purse of the victims. delicate females go, in the dead of night, dressed in masculine attire, to avoid detection, to obtain the means to hide their shame. the cause of the evil lies in 'lust, which is as near to the murder as fire to smoke.' the demoralization of the people at large, in the practice of licentiousness, furnishes a topic of the greatest anxiety to the philanthropist. when american women lose their shame, the race is lost--church-membership is no bar. the continence of man and the chastity of woman is the only hope." trustworthy physicians assure us there are not less than sixty ghouls (gules) in new york city, who grow rich by killing infants. we have seen the number stated at six times sixty. those who have passed through fifth avenue, new york, must have noticed a magnificent dwelling, or rather palace, in the neighborhood of the central park. it was built by a certain doctress who has acquired her wealth by the murder of helpless innocents. the unhappy victims of these ghouls are not generally of the low and debased sort. most of these illegitimate mothers are of the educated classes, many of them, shocking to say, under the age of fifteen; many of them delicate, sensitive females, who make use of these unhallowed means to hide their shame from the eyes of their friends and relatives. the number of marriages (outside the catholic church) has largely decreased within the past few years. the crime of infanticide is largely increasing. a certain species of it is practised in the first families, and the drugs and implements for committing such murders are publicly sold everywhere. physicians advertise publicly, offering their services to enable people, as they say, "to enjoy the pleasures of marriage without the burden." at least , foeticides are annually committed. how to preserve their looks, and how to avoid having children, seem to be the chief aim of many women nowadays. in the upper classes of society, in some of our large cities, a lady who is the mother of more than two children is looked upon as unfashionable. the author of the book "satan in society" writes, on page - , as follows: "a medical writer of some note published, in , a pamphlet, in which he declared himself the hero of three hundred abortions." he admits, in a work of his, that he only found abortion necessary to save the life of the mother in four instances, thus publicly confessing that in an immense number of cases he has performed the operation on other grounds; and yet, in the face of all this self-accusation, several attempts at his expulsion from his county medical society have been defeated, and he is accounted "a brother in good standing" of several learned bodies, and holds an enviable position in a fashionable church and fashionable society. this rascal walks unhung; for this the "medical code" is primarily responsible, and after that the "ministers of the gospel," the "worshippers" in the churches, the dwellers in "south fronts." i have said above that the love of children has always been deemed a sign of superior intelligence--of noble manhood. affection for its offspring is a quality possessed alike by all animals, with scarcely an exception; and few indeed of the millions of the animal creation seek to destroy their own offspring after birth, or to so neglect them as to leave them liable to destruction by other bodies or forces. it was left for human intelligences to encompass the death of their children, both before birth and after, and it was left to the anti-christian civilization of this nineteenth century also to discover and adopt the most revolting and barbarous means to accomplish this end. the crime of foeticide, or infanticide, is not of recent growth. like every other crime, it has had a venerable existence, but its beastly development among us has been mainly the work of a few years. thirteen years ago its prevalence attracted the attention of medical jurists in all parts of our country, and essays, tracts, and bound volumes were issued against it. but the crime grew apace, and its deadly and dastardly fruits appear before us to-day, sickening to the moral conscience and religious sentiments of the nation. and in view of the alarming increase of this crime of child-murder, the prediction of dr. m. b. wright to the medical society of ohio, in , will soon be fulfilled, namely: "the time is not far distant when children will be sacrificed among us with as little hesitation as among the hindoos, unless we stop it here and now." the frightful increase of immorality, of unnatural crimes, in these latter years, and especially in those very states where the common school system of education is fully carried out, as in new england, proves, beyond doubt, that there is something essentially wrong in this system. some years ago the public were startled by the shocking developments of depravity in one of the female public schools of boston; so shocking, indeed, as almost to stagger belief. the boston _times_ published the whole occurrence at the time, but after creating great excitement for a few weeks, the matter was quietly hushed up, for fear of injuring the character of the common schools. only a few years ago other startling transactions came to light in new york, involving the character of some of the leading school commissioners, and some of the principal female teachers in the common schools. these scandals became so notorious, that they could be no longer blinked at or smothered, and several of the leading papers came out openly, to lash vice in high places. the chicago papers assert openly that the public schools there are _assignation houses_, for boys and girls above a certain age. "it is but six or seven years ago that mr. wilbur h. storey, who owns the _chicago times_--the paper, at that time, of largest circulation in chicago--published in his paper, and sustained the assertion, that the public school system in chicago had become so corrupt, that any school-boy attending, who had reached fourteen years of age, was whistled at by his companions as a _spooney_, if he had not a _liaison_ with some one or more of the public school-girls! "the daily _sentinel_, of indianapolis, quoted mr. storey's articles, and said, with great regret, that it was only too true of indianapolis also, judging by the wanton manners of troops of the girls attending public schools in indianapolis." and there are but too many cities to which the same order of remark applies. far be it from me to say that _all_ the children of the public schools of any of these cities are corrupted. it is marvellous how some are protected from even the _knowledge_ of vice, in these hot-beds of pollution. but the _system_ of schools without the control of positive religious teaching and discipline, tends only to one vile end. we are assured, as to the city of new york, that smart girls, even of most immature years, show their discontent at their neglected fate, from hearing girls only a few years older tell what "_nice_" acquaintances they have made on the streets, or in the cars, going or coming, and what delicious lunches they have taken with these "gentlemen" at restaurants of most unquestionably bad repute. these things i have learned from a friend who heard them from members of the city police, and from others that could not avoid the unhappy knowledge of the facts indicated. the moral character of the public schools in many of our cities has sunk so low, that even courtesans have disguised themselves as school-girls, in order the more surely to ply their foul avocation. does any one wonder, then, that we hear and read of "trunk horrors"? does any one wonder that we have divorces, despair, infanticides, foeticides, suicides, bagnios, etc., and that other class, i fear not less numerous, but certainly more dangerous, "_the assignation houses_"? these you cannot "police," or "localize." they, like a subtle poison, circulate through all the veins and arteries of that society called in fashionable phrase "genteel," penetrating the vital tissues of the social body, and corrupting, too often, the very fountains of life. chapter vii. what is it to be a mother? let us again bear in mind that the public school-girls of to-day will be the mothers of to-morrow. mothers are destined, by god, to bring up children for heaven. this is their grand mission. what a happiness, what an honor for a mother to give angels to heaven! would to god she only knew the real dignity and importance of her mission, and comprehended the qualifications in the moral and religious order that best prepare her for the duties of her sublime calling! what mission can be more sublime, more sacred, what mission can be more meritorious before god than that of giving to the young child the primary lessons of religion? there is indeed nothing more honorable, nothing more meritorious, nothing which conducts to higher perfection, than to instruct children in their religious duties. this instruction of children is a royal, apostolic, angelic, and divine function. _royal_, because the office of a king is to protect his people from danger. _apostolic_, because our lord commissioned apostles to instruct the nations, and, as st. jerome says, thus made them the saviours of men. _angelic_, because the angelical spirits in heaven enlighten, purify, and perfect each other according to their spheres, and their earthly mission is to labor without ceasing for the salvation of man. st. peter chrysologus calls those who instruct others in the way of salvation, "the substitutes of angels." indeed this mission of mothers is divine; they are called to carry on the very work of god himself. everything that almighty god has done from the creation of the world, and which he will continue to do to the end, has been, and will be, for the salvation of mankind. for this he sent his son from heaven, who enlightened the world by his doctrine, and who still continues to instruct his people by his chosen disciples. those mothers, then, who direct their children in the paths to heaven, who allure them from vice, who form them to virtue, may fitly be termed apostles, angels, and saviours. oh! what glory awaits those mothers who perform the office of angels, and even of god himself, in laboring for the salvation of the souls of their children. if this employment is honorable for mothers, it is also not less meritorious for them. what is the religious instruction of children, but conferring on a class of our race, the weakest and most helpless, with inconceivable labor and fatigue, the greatest of all blessings? for while the physical development of the child advances with age, it is not so with the mental; for religious instruction only can develop the noble faculties of the soul. the soul of a child, so to speak, would continue to live enshrouded in pagan darkness, if the mother did not impart and infuse the light of truth. all the gold in the world is but dross in comparison with true religious knowledge. our saviour says: "whosoever shall give to drink to one of these little ones, even a cup of cold water, shall not lose his reward."--(matt. x. .) may we not infer that those mothers who bestow upon children the treasures of divine knowledge will receive an exceedingly great reward? if god denounces so severely those who scandalize little children: "but he that shall scandalize one of these little ones, it were better for him that a mill-stone were hanged about his neck, and he were drowned in the depth of the sea" (matt. xviii. ), what recompense will mothers not receive who instruct and sanctify them? mothers who give their efforts and means to this object, choose the surest way to appease the anger of god, and to insure their own salvation. they choose the best means of attaining a high degree of perfection. almighty god gives to each one the graces proper to his vocation. mothers, therefore, who are devoted to the religious instruction of their children, must rest assured that god will give them extraordinary graces to arrive at perfection. "whoever," says our lord, "shall receive one such little child in my name, receiveth me."--(matt. xviii. .) whosoever, then, believes that our saviour will not allow himself to be surpassed in liberality, must also believe that he will bestow his choicest blessings on those mothers who instruct their children in the knowledge of god and the love of virtue. what obligations have not the "angels" of children "who always see the face of the father who is in heaven" (matt. xviii. ), to pray for these mothers--their dear colleagues and charitable substitutes, who perform their office and hold their place on earth. the children will pray for their mothers, and god can refuse nothing to the prayers of children, and their supplications will ascend with the prayers of the angels. do you desire, o christian mother, to be saved? do you wish to acquire great treasures in heaven, and to attain great perfection in this life?--employ yourself diligently in the religious instruction of your children. do you wish to gain the love of our lord, and to deserve his protection?--teach your children to fear and love god; you cannot do anything more pleasing to his divine heart. it is related in the gospel that mothers brought to him little children, that he might touch them. and the disciples rebuked them that brought them. and when jesus saw it, he was much displeased, and said to them: "suffer little children to come to me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of god; and embracing them, and laying his hands on them, he blessed them." if jesus was displeased with those who prevented little children from coming to him, what love and tenderness will he not have for those mothers by whose means they come to him? oh! how consoled will they not be in their last hour, when they shall see the souls of those whom they prepared for heaven, accompanied by their good angels, surrounding their bed of death, forming, as it were, a guard to protect them from the snares and assaults of the enemy! this is a happiness which those mothers may confidently expect who labor assiduously to give their children a good religious education. ah! would to god, i say once more, that mothers would understand their sublime mission on earth! but it is just here that the difficulty lies: how can a mother give the child these early lessons of piety and devotion, if she has never learned them herself? how can she train it to raise its young heart to that heavenly father, and ask him for his continued mercy and blessings, of whose name or law she has never been informed or instructed in the public schools? how can she impart to her child that knowledge which she herself has never learned in the public schools, and which she has always been taught to look upon as unnecessary? can she teach the child to love god and keep his commandments, to hate sin, and avoid it for the love of god?--to love, honor, and obey its parents, not from natural motives alone, but because, in so doing, it would love, honor, and obey god in the person of its father and mother, and have thus not only a great reward, and length of days here below, but also the joys of heaven above? this lesson the poor mother was never taught in the public schools. how can she teach her sweet child that it has an immortal soul, that god sees even the inmost thoughts of the soul, that it is this soul that sins by consenting to the evil inclinations of the heart; that when the child is tempted to pride, gluttony, anger, disobedience, theft, lies, or any manner of uncleanness, even in thought as well as deed, that it must call on god and its good guardian angel to come to its assistance, and keep its soul from consenting, and its body from doing, any of those things that might offend its good god? all this the poor mother has not been taught in the public schools. the state claims the right to educate her, and it did not regard this kind of knowledge necessary, else it would have provided it. let us again bear in mind that the public school-girls of to-day will be the women of to-morrow. the most majestic kingdom for woman to reign in is home. a woman nowhere looks more lovely, more truly great, more fascinating, and more really beautiful and useful, than when in her own house, surrounded by her children, giving them what instruction she is capable of, or devising some plan of intellectual entertainment. depend on it that this is the grandest position in this world for a woman, and this home-audience is nearer and sweeter to the affectionate heart of a mother whose brain is properly developed, than all the applause and flatteries that the outer world can bestow. it is not in the court-room, the pulpit, and rostrum, but it is among the household congregation that woman's influence can achieve so much, and reign paramount. this, however, is not easily understood and practised by women who have been educated without religion. and it is for this reason that such women cannot make faithful wives and tender mothers. young ladies whose education has been devoid of moral and religious instruction, whose imagination, always over-ardent and vivacious, has been still more stimulated by a class of exercises, public examinations, and studies better calculated to give them an unreal than a sober view of life, are not prepared to fulfil their divine mission on earth. an illustration of this truth is the fact that quite recently over six hundred personal applications--mostly made by girls of from fifteen to twenty--were made in one day at the grand opera house in new york to fill places in the ballet and oriental marches of the spectacle of lalla rookh. assuredly this fact is evidence that the women in new york, like so many women in all quarters of the land, are unwilling to do the work which properly belongs to them to do, and prefer any shift, even the degrading one mentioned above, to honest household labor. there are thousands of ladies to whom the following description, written by a lady herself, may well be applied: "how is it that there is not more nature in the present age, and less sophistication in society, and that mothers do not teach their daughters to fit themselves for wives and mothers? for they all seem to be setting traps to get husbands. why, the young ladies of the present day are quite ashamed should they be ignorant of the name of the last new opera and its composer, but would feel quite indignant if they were asked whether they knew how to make good soup, or broil a beefsteak, or mend stockings. "above all, you can notice in the young ladies of the present day a madness beyond description for dress, for balls, theatres, watering-places, and all kinds of worldly amusements; you can see in them the greatest desire to appear ladies. they go and spend the whole day at the perfumer's, where they purchase their complexion; at the goldsmith's and the milliner's, where they get their figures. a few days ago, the father of one of these ladies had to pay a bill of forty-nine hundred dollars at the milliner's, for his daughter. the chief mental agony of the masses of the young women of the present day seems to be, who shall have the largest possible waterfall, the smallest bonnet, and make themselves the greatest fright. they do nothing from morning till night but read novels, and look at their white hands, or the passers-by in the street. they all seem to be senseless creatures, for their capacious brain soars no higher than dress, fashion, pleasure, comfort of life. were it not for their vain daughters, hundreds of parents at this moment would have a happier countenance, and not that careworn, wretched look that we so frequently see when honest people get in debt, incurred by living beyond their _means_. were it not for the extravagancy of young women, young men would not be afraid to marry, consequently would not be led into the temptations that they are in the single state, for marriage is one sure step towards morality, and consequently tends to the decrease of crime. "very many young ladies act as catch-traps, with their painted faces and affected sweetness, to lure young men into the swamps of iniquity. "i frequently read comments about servants not knowing and performing their proper duties; in fact, of their incompetency to fill the office they apply for: _and it is true_. "in boston, a short time ago, one hundred and eighty unfortunate girls were arrested in _one night_; and i doubt not that the greater portion of them could have _once_ been respectable servants, but considered the office and _name too low_! men think it no disgrace to become carpenters and masons, and it is certainly as respectable to clean a house, and keep it in order, as it is to build it. and what kind of a name have these girls now? what future have these women to look forward to? generally the world's cold, nipping scorn, combined with ill-health and destitution. a girl would much rather work in a factory, or a 'saloon,' because she can be called 'miss,' dress finer, and imagine she will be thought a _lady_! poor girl! it is this delusion, this false pride, that crowds the streets nightly with pretty young girls, some of whom count only twelve short summers. with hamlet, i exclaim, 'oh, horrible! most horrible!' i lived in a house in which there was a girl, annie c., not seventeen, and she attended in a restaurant. i once said to her, 'why do you not take the situation of a seamstress, or a nurse in a gentleman's family?' she turned upon me in the most insolent way, saying, 'me be a servant! that will do very well for irish, or dutch, or english girls, but i am an _american_, and feel myself as _good as anybody_.' "however, this girl afterwards went as a ballet-girl at one of the lowest places in boston; and the last account i heard of her was, she was travelling with an ethiopian troop _alone_. poor young creature! what will be her end? the truth is, that after a girl is fifteen years old, in this country, she considers herself a person of _sound judgment_, and the parents look up to these sprites with a sort of deferential fear. these girls are simply living pictures walking about the earth, deriding everything they are incapable of understanding. and who could be charmed with such women? with such 'grecian bends,' grecian noses? the genuine well-bred woman will shine out from beneath the plainest garb; and shoddy vulgarity, even should it be incased in rubies and diamonds, will only be rendered the more obvious and conspicuous to those who at a glance can discover the difference--to those who cannot be deceived, even by the radiant sparkling of these richest of gems." this sort of women wish to have the "women's rights." they would like, if they knew how, to turn the world upside down, and inside out. this great desire among a certain class of women, to have the world think that they possess masculine power, generally proceeds from persons who wish to create a sensation, and fail to do so in the station they belong to. when a woman wishes to go out of her natural element, she shows that her intellect is shallow, and she is desirous of being thought greater than her sex generally; while, in reality, she discovers to us her own littleness. these people seem to wish to be what it is impossible for them ever to become--"men." "when god created man in his own image, he said, 'it is not good that man should live alone: i will make him a helpmeet.' now, had god meant to create merely a companion capable of following the same pursuits, and capable of the same herculean labors that evidently is meant to be man's destiny, why, he would have made _another man_. but no! when god caused a deep sleep to fall upon adam, he took out one of his ribs, and made a _woman_--a being in every way the complement of man. and, after they ate of the tree of knowledge, god said to the woman, 'thy desire shall be to thy husband, and he shall rule _over thee_.' and unto adam he said, 'because thou hast _hearkened_ unto the voice of thy wife, and hast eaten of the tree which i commanded thee, saying, _thou shalt_ not eat of it, cursed is the ground for thy sake; in sorrow shalt thou eat of it all the days of thy life;' thus plainly demonstrating to us, that man was meant to _rule_. bear in mind that god was _angry_ because adam hearkened unto the voice of his wife; and adam called his wife eve because she was the mother of all living. so it is clear to be seen, that woman was meant to attend to the duties of a mother in caring for her offspring, and man was intended to labor as the provider for her whom he chose as a helpmeet, as well as for the entire household. woman has natural nourishment sent to her for the babe long before she is able to leave her couch. does not all this prove to every thinking person that woman's sphere and calling are _widely different_?" the good and perfection of women consist in remaining contentedly in the place which god has assigned them, and in performing well the duties of their divine calling. if the hand wishes to be in the place of the eye, and the eye wishes to be where the hand is, they become burdensome, and disturb the good order and harmony of the body. now it is the same with the members of the social body. if women are in the place, or engaged in the occupation which god has chosen for them, they enjoy a profound peace; they rest under his protection; they are nourished by his grace; they are enriched by his blessings, and work out their eternal happiness with but little pain. this truth, however, is considered by many women as one of trifling importance; they seem not to care as to whether they live up to their divine calling or not. the holy ghost, however, admonishes every one thus: "let every man abide in the vocation to which he was called" ( cor. vii. ); for, "blessed is the man that shall continue in wisdom--and that considereth her ways in his heart."--(eccles. xiv. , .) blessed that woman who well considers her divine calling, penetrates into, and admires its greatness, and endeavors, with all her strength and heart, to comply with all its duties. one of the most usual temptations which the arch-enemy of mankind makes use of to shake women's happiness, in the present day, is to excite in them disgust and dissatisfaction for their divine calling. hence it is that we so often hear them complain of their state of life; they fancy that, by changing their condition of life, they shall fare better: yes, provided they changed themselves. would to god they were sworn enemies of these useless, dangerous, and bad desires! god wills to speak to them amidst the thorns, and out of the midst of the bush (exod. iii. ), and they will him to speak to them in "_the whistling of a gentle air_."--(iii kings, xix. .) they ought, then, to remain on board the ship in which they are, in order to cross from this life to the other; and they ought to remain there willingly, and with affection. let them not think of anything else; let them not wish for that which they are not, but let them earnestly desire to be the very best of what they are. let them endeavor to do their best to perfect themselves where they are, and bear courageously all the crosses, light or heavy, that they may encounter. let them _believe that this is the leading principle, and yet the one least understood in the christian life_. every one follows his own taste; very few place their happiness in fulfilling their duty according to the pleasure of our lord. what is the use of building castles in spain, when we are obliged to live in america? "as a bird that wandereth from her nest, so is a man that leaveth his place" (prov. xxvii. ), his occupation, or station of life. let every woman remain firm in her calling, if she wishes to insure her tranquillity of mind, her peace of heart, her temporal and eternal happiness. to become unfaithful to their vocation is for women to suffer as many pangs as a limb which, through some accident, has been wrenched out of place. they are continually tormented by evil spirits, who have power over a soul that is out of its proper sphere. they are no longer under the protection of god, since they have withdrawn from his guidance, and voluntarily abandoned his watchful providence. they fall often into grievous sins, because they are not sustained by the grace which belongs to the state in which god desires them to be. a woman, therefore, can never show her superior intellectual powers better than by cheerfully accepting the calling for which the creator evidently intended her; that is, for _woman, wife, and mother_. chapter viii. evil consequences of the public school system continued. few questions affect so directly the welfare and interests of the people as the question of education; and assuredly, in this country, there is none of more moment as regards the well-being and permanence of our national institutions. these, our institutions, our prosperity and civilization, depend for their permanence and perpetuity, not so much on the culture of the arts, sciences, literature, or philosophy, as on the general diffusion of the salutary and vivifying principles of religion. history tells us in its every page, that the decline and downfall of nations have ever been caused by irreligion and immorality. indeed, it is not the state that has made men free, nor can it, on its own professed origin, keep _itself_ or _them_ free. it has no mission to reform men or manners; its boasted material civilization is no civilization at all. for steam, railroads, telegraphs, printing, and in fact all the arts and natural sciences, have never civilized or converted one man, not even a naked savage, and never will. they are the results of civilization, and even then the least part. nor are they adequate to maintain or preserve the state. what is called _material civilization_ is nothing else than _polished barbarism_,--a kind of monster, with the intelligence of a man, and the cruelty and instincts of a beast. it may flatter the vanity of modern nations to think they are superior to the ancients in scientific and industrial developments, but if they rely on this alone, they are greatly mistaken. i admit the superiority of the moderns, but not on this account. in the first place, many arts and products of head and hands have been lost, but even those that remain are the envy and despair of modern competitors. besides, every age must be judged by comparison with its contemporaries. yet they have fallen; and antiquarian travellers search in vain for the ruins of the proudest and greatest cities of the past. the nation and people--the most gallant and accomplished of all antiquity--who engraved their names on the imperishable fields of platæa and marathon, who conquered at salamis, or died at thermopylæ--that carried eloquence, heroism, and art to a pitch never since attained--the age which boasted of pericles and praxitelles, of plato and aristides--perished from excess of its material civilization, deprived, as it was, of the vital element of true religion. without this no nation can live, nor exhibit in its actions true grandeur, or nobility of character. there is among such a cruelty, a perfidy, and a beastly lust, which sooner or later bring on their decay and ruin. look at ancient rome, the once proud mistress of the world. in her palmiest days, amidst her thousands of marble palaces and triumphal arches, amidst her innumerable temples and altars, there was _not one to mercy_. nor was there, amidst all this barbaric display, a single _hospital_ for the poor of any age or condition. the roman eagle was carried at the head of victorious legions to the "_hither inde_," and far beyond the depths of "_hercynian forests_." conquered kings marched at the head of subjugated nations to swell her triumphs; the wealth and strength of the then known world lay at her feet. here was exhibited on a scale--the grandest the world ever saw or will see--the triumphs of "_material civilization_." yet all this crumbled and fell before the rude hatchets of the long-haired "_barbarian hordes_," coming they knew not from whence, and going they knew not whither, only able to give the single answer, that they were "_the scourge of god_." where, then, was the power to save? it was not in their material civilization, nor in their impotent and terrified legions. what all these could not do was accomplished by an unarmed man--pope leo the great, speaking in the name of that mighty god, unknown alike to attila and to roman wisdom. that god still reigns, and him it is the state would exclude from the public schools! thereby denying alike the lessons of history and its christian duty. these united states, or no existing nation (relatively to the age), has never attained the point of artistic, æsthetic, social or material perfection of the greco-roman states; yet they fell, as i have just said, to slavery and ruin, not so much from the blows of the barbarians, as from the dissolving influence of a _material civilization_, resulting inevitably in public and private impotence and demoralization. only keep up the present godless system of state education, and depend on it, as sure as effect follows cause, every species of villany and defilement will flood the land. it is certain that all education which is not based on religion is heathenish, and must prove destructive in the end. it will destroy the very people whom it was expected to save. it will consume them as a fire. nor can it be otherwise; for what brought on the "cities of the plain" the material fires of heaven? or what were the sins and crimes of the gentile nations that called forth the terrible chastisements predicted by the prophets? why, the self-same pride, worldly-mindedness, ambition, sensuality, and _disregard of god and his laws_ which is at this hour taught in the public schools. this, i am aware, is a grave charge, but it is made with all deliberation and sense of responsibility. indeed, the ancients were in many respects more excusable than we are. they had but the old law, always incomplete and obscure, whilst we live under the fulfilment of the new law, with all its aids and graces. now, if god did not spare the "cities of the plain," if he destroyed the ancient nations in punishment for their wicked lives and disregard of himself and his law, what reason have our modern heathens and infidels to escape god's vengeance--they who in every respect are more guilty in his sight? let the measure of the evil consequences of the public school system become full, and rest assured the wrath of god will not fail to come down upon the american people. the late american war was a great punishment for the whole country. thousands of men were launched into eternity unprepared to appear before their eternal judge. yet this punishment is only a forerunner of a far more terrible one. the lord is patient, and slow in punishing a whole nation, which he may spare for many years for the sake of his just. yet for all that he will not fail to punish private families, fathers, and mothers, and children, if they have no regard for him and his law--if they are practical infidels, and give themselves up to their beastly passions. let me give you some instances, taken from the little book "fate of infidelity," by a converted infidel. "you all have, undoubtedly, heard of blind palmer, a professed infidel. after he had tried to lecture against christ he lost his sight, and died suddenly in philadelphia, in the forty-second year of his age. you will also have heard of the so-called orange county infidel society. they held, among other tenets, that it was right to indulge in lasciviousness, and that it was right to regulate their conduct as their propensities and appetites should dictate; and as these principles were carried into practical operation by some families belonging to the association, in one instance a son held criminal intercourse with his mother, and publicly justified his conduct. the step-father, and husband to the mother who thus debased herself, boldly avowed that, in his opinion, it was morally right to hold such intercourse. the members of this impious society were visited by god in a remarkable manner. they all died, within five years, in some strange or unnatural manner. one of these was seized with a sudden and violent illness, and in his agony exclaimed: 'my bowels are on fire--die i must,' and his spirit passed away. "dr. h., another of the party, was found dead in his bed the next morning. "d. d., a printer, fell in a fit and died immediately, and three others were drowned within a few days. "b. a., a lawyer, came to his death by starvation, and c. c., also educated for the bar, and a man of superior intellectual endowments, died of want, hunger, and filth. "another one, who had studied to be a preacher, suddenly disappeared, but at length his remains were found fast in the ice, where he evidently had been for a long time, as the fowls of the air, and the inhabitants of the deep, had consumed the most of his flesh. "joshua miller, notorious as a teacher of infidelity, was found upon a stolen horse, and was shot by col. j. woodhull; n. miller, his brother, who was discovered one sunday morning seated upon a log playing cards, was also shot. "benjamin kelly was shot off his horse by a boy, the son of one clark, who had been murdered by kelly; his body remained upon the ground until his flesh had been consumed by birds. "i. smith committed suicide by stabbing himself, while he was in prison for crime. "w. smith was shot by b. thorpe and others, for robbery. "s. t. betrayed his own confidential friend for a few dollars; his friend was hung, and he was afterwards shot by d. lancaster. "i. v. was shot by a company of militia. i. d., in a drunken fit, was frozen to death. "i. b., and i. smith, and j. vervellen, b. r., and one other individual, were hung for heinous crimes they had committed. n. b., w. t., and w. h., were drowned. c. c. hung himself. a. s. was struck with an axe, and bled to death. "f. s. fell from his horse and was killed. w. clark drank himself to death; he was eaten by the hogs before his bones were found, which were recognized by his clothing. j. a., sen., died in the woods, his rum-jug by his side; he was not found until a dog brought home one of his legs, which was identified by his stocking; his bones had been picked by animals. "s. c. hung himself, and another destroyed himself by taking laudanum. d. d. was hired for ten dollars to shoot a man, for which offence he died upon the gallows. "the most of those who survived were either sent to the state prison, or were publicly whipped for crimes committed against the peace and dignity of the state." this is a brief history of the orange county "liberals," as they called themselves. to the infidel and evil-doer, it presents matter worthy of serious reflection, while the believer will recognize in each event the special judgment of god, which is too clearly indicated to be doubted by any honest mind. i ask, will the lord fail to visit with similar judgments all those who are guilty of the same crimes? will the lord fail to visit with similar judgments all those who, by keeping up and defending a godless system of education, prepare the young for infidelity, and all kinds of crimes and iniquities? if the lord punished so severely the king antiochus for carrying away the sacred vessels from the temple of jerusalem; if he sent so many plagues upon the egyptians, and drowned, at last, the king pharaoh and his whole army in the red sea, for refusing to let the people of god offer sacrifices where and in the manner the lord desired it, what will be the punishments for those who, by a godless system of education, abolish religion? if god slew twenty-four thousand men of the israelites for having fallen into fornication (numb. xxv.), with what punishments will he visit those who add, to the sin of fornication and adultery, even the crime of child-murder! numberless child-murders are committed daily in the land. assuredly the voice of these innocent victims will cry to heaven for vengeance, and the lord will not deafen his ear to their voice. if the american people will not soon put an end to the godless system of education, if they permit any longer the rising generation to be raised to infidelity, the wrath of the lord, enkindled against them ever since the introduction of the godless system of education, will fall upon them. in former times, when the lord threatened the people with his chastisements, they entered into themselves, and did penance, because they had faith, and the lord was appeased. but our modern heathens laugh at the very idea of doing penance. so the wrath of the lord will surely overtake them when they least expect it. chapter ix. the state.--its usurpation of the individual rights.--its incompetency to educate. it is certain and undeniable that two orders of things actually exist in this world, the natural order and the supernatural--nature and grace. these two orders have the same ultimate end, though, in themselves, they are distinct. nature is, and must be, always subordinate to grace; the natural must be always subservient to the supernatural. this is god's immutable decree. hence religion must always hold the first place in everything. a system of education that places the natural and the supernatural on the same level is absurd, and must be condemned; but a system of education that ignores the supernatural altogether, is, if possible, even more wicked and detestable. yet this wicked, detestable, irreligious system, diabolical in its origin, and subversive of all political, social, and religious order, is imposed by the state upon all christian denominations, whether they approve of it or not. now the state has no right whatever to force such a godless system upon its subjects. for the right understanding of this most important point, i attach great importance to a clear understanding of what is commonly called the state. _what is the state?_ people in general have a vague and confused conception of this matter. you will hear the people talk of the "sovereignty of the state," "the life of the state," "the power of the state," "the absolute authority of the state," "the paramount allegiance due to the state," etc., etc. not only the public at large, but even those who assume to lead and direct public opinion, are constantly blundering on this subject. there is nothing so _fertile_ as an idea; it will, like every other germ or seed, bring forth in time according to its kind. if it be a good one, it will bring forth good fruit; if it be a false or bad one, it will spread its evil fruits over society. be it one or the other, it is never barren; sooner or later, the idea or maxim takes form and substance in an _institution_; then it operates, in a material manner, for good or evil. to illustrate: a false conception of the nature and authority, of the legitimate functions, rights and duties of what is called the "state," has led, and will, if not corrected, ever lead to the most deplorable political, social, and religious disorder and oppression. as diverging lines in mathematics can never approximate, but must continue to widen as they are extended, so a false departure from a political "standpoint" can never be rectified unless by a return to correct first principles. this is what is meant by the democratic maxim, "that a frequent return to first principles is necessary to secure the ends of public liberty." indeed, this error, this diverging point in constitutional interpretation, has been the real cause--the "causa causarum"--of the late war; and not the "negro," or "cotton," or the "spirit of domination," or "difference of race," or what not, might serve as the "_proximate cause_," but the real cause lay far back of them. i am willing to admit that political events do not always proceed on a strictly logical order, but nevertheless there is a sequence, indeed an inevitable chain of cause and effect in the progress of public affairs, such as we see in individual conduct, but only on a broader scale. now what is the _civil power_, or _state_; what its origin, its authority, its legitimate functions, its rights and duties? here i must, of necessity, be very brief. the state originated from the natural desire which men experience to obtain certain goods, such as peace, security of life and property, of personal rights and privileges, etc., etc. these are goods which neither individuals, nor families, nor private corporations can procure for themselves satisfactorily. people therefore unite to establish a state, in order to attain, through the state, what they cannot do by their own private exertions. the state, then, is made by the people and for the people. in our form of government it is a mere corporate agency. its duty is to see that justice is administered, and personal rights and property protected. it holds the sword of justice not for _itself_, but for _others_; it is the _servant_, and not the _master_. the people were not made for the state, or given to the state, but the state is posterior to the people; it was, as i said before, established by the people and for the people. in them, under god, resides the sovereignty and ultimate permanent authority. the right of the state is to discharge the duties assigned it within the sphere of its delegated authority--that is all. that sphere of action of the state in this country is clearly defined in the written constitution. the state, then, must scrupulously abstain from violating any of the rights it was organized to protect. there never has been, and never will be, but two forms of government--one seeking to restrain, the other to enlarge, the liberties of the people. to the former belong the centralized and despotic governments of the past and present; to the latter, the limited and representative ones. russia, without doubt, is the highest type of that despotism so common among pagan nations. the czar is the successor of the gentile cæsar; he unites in himself the civil and spiritual power; the inevitable result is social oppression, denial of the rights of conscience, of the family, and of the political society. our government has already made gigantic steps in the same direction. many of the political minds of this country have been drawn within the circle of _monarchial_ ideas. they are unconsciously, as it were, adopting their forms of thought, and applying their forms of expression to our government, and claiming for it the prerogatives and supremacy appertaining to the feudal institutions of asia and europe. our simple democratic form of government seems to be getting ashamed of its plebeian origin, and ambitious to ape the language and pretensions of its former masters. this decadence was made apparent not long ago, in the discussions "for the removal of the united states capitol." in a two-hours' discussion, the word "republic," or "federal government," or "united states," was not once mentioned!! it was "_nation_," "empire," etc., etc., _usque ad nauseam_, from beginning to end. to a reflecting mind, this language has an ominous significance. it smacks strongly of monarchy. but some one will perhaps say, "sir, what has all this dissertation to do with your subject? you commence by disclaiming against the _public school system_, and here you are giving a grave lecture on the nation relapsing into imperialism or monarchy." it has a great deal to do; it is an attempt to trace effects to their causes. this government of ours, both in its federal and state capacity, is growing ambitious to play the _king_. it is setting itself up as master. it is using the language of all tyrants: "_sic volo, sic jubeo_," etc., etc. it claims, after the example of prussia or russia, or some other despotism, _to direct the education of the children_ of the people. it even claims them as belonging to itself. it is the great feudal master. it takes upon itself the old duty of providing instruction for the sons and daughters of its dependents. it takes upon itself the discharge of duties imposed on parents by divine law, just as if fathers and mothers had lost their natural instincts as well as sense of duty; just as if the state had all the intelligence, virtue, and forethought of the public in her keeping. it dispenses parents from a duty from which god will never dispense them. it has usurped the office of teacher; it will, if not checked, set itself up as preacher. it makes sunday laws, temperance laws; it places marriage on the footing of simple contracts, facilitates divorce; it is constantly, in all these things and many others, repeating the "mot" ascribed to a king of france: "_l'état c'est moi_." in fine, it makes, as it has been aptly, but not very reverently, said, god a little man, and itself and the state a little god, not in love and charity, indeed, but in power and authority. here is where the danger comes from, and it is against this that the people must provide. the people must see to it that the state, or those who are charged with its authority, keep within their proper place. the people can never be too vigilant or jealous of their constituted authority, never permit themselves to be the victims of misplaced confidence. the state is not seldom the usurper--the rebel that should be watched. the allegiance is not to it, but from it to the people--its master. "eternal vigilance is the price of liberty." the people have been greatly deceived and wronged by the state on the establishment of the public school system. the better to understand this, let us see again, in a few words, what are the _principles_ on which the establishment of public schools is based. how did men arrive at the idea that the state should be a school-master? if we consult history, we shall find that this idea rests upon most objectionable grounds. in europe--in protestant countries--the education of youth was held to belong to the church. but as the protestant prince was also the chief bishop of his church, he had the care of schools, as well as the administration of other religious matters. according to this principle of the _state-church_, all the schools were _state-schools_. at the present day, protestant princes and princesses are not looked upon as chief bishops, but the consequence of this objectionable system does still remain, and has gained a foothold even in this free country. the french revolution, among other things, diffused communistic and socialistic theories. nay, communism and socialism seemed to have, for a moment, the fullest sway in those revolutionary proceedings. it is from such socialistic revolutionists that came the idea, or rather principle, which was made a law, that the state should educate the children of its subjects. accordingly the school-system was arranged, which napoleon i. highly welcomed and retained, as he saw in it a welcome instrument of his despotism. in fact, nothing pleases state-absolutism or despotism so much as the complete control of education through the system of state-schools. as the result of impartial history, then, we see that the foundation of the state-school system is nothing else than the objectionable protestant state-church, and especially revolutionary socialism. but most absurd did the state-school system appear after it had been transplanted into free america. here this "state system of education" was at first applied to the poor, and other unprovided-for "waifs of society." but not long after, the state claimed to have a paramount interest in the children of all classes; it made no distinction, it knew not the rich from the poor, but opened its scholastic treasures alike, and it was thought to be all right. what an absurdity! the state, as i have remarked, must scrupulously abstain from violating any of those rights which it was organized to protect. it must not paralyze or take away the industry of the individual, family, or private institutions by substituting for it its own industry. the state should rather protect and promote the industry of its subjects, as well as other rights and liberties. let me speak more plainly: the state, for instance, should protect trade, but it should not be itself a tradesman; the state should encourage agriculture, but it should not be itself a farmer; the state should sustain honest handicraft, but it should not work at shoe-making or tailoring, and bread-baking. so, in the same manner, the state should promote and protect education, but it should not be itself a school-master, and give instruction. what a cry would be raised if the state erected state workshops, and thereby ruined all other similar trades! now the state does the same thing, as far as possible, in regard to education. what an absurdity! in our free country, state education has no more foundation in good sense than the old sumptuary laws, that regulated the length of a boot or the dimensions of a skirt. if the state claims the right to educate our children, why does it not just as well claim the right to nurse, feed, clothe, doctor, and lodge them? indeed these necessities are more indispensable, and must be supplied to a considerable extent before education can be given at all. why should the state throw all these burdens on the parents, and assume that of instruction? it cannot claim to know more of grammar than of the art of nursing and cooking. it is even said that the tailor and barber have more to do in fashioning the man than the school-master. again, how absurd is it not for the state to undertake to teach all alike, without regard to their circumstances or prospects in life, the same business. this scholastic equality soon ends, if it ever had a reality. they cannot all expect to be newtons, humboldts, or la places. they cannot be all, nay, not one in ten thousand, "professors," or "editors," or what not. we cannot, if we would, escape the sentence imposed on our forefather in the garden: "thou shalt eat thy bread in the sweat of thy face." as well might the state claim that all the children from seven to seventeen years of age should sit at the same table, provided at public expense, and be served with the same food and the same number of dishes. if the state (in order to prepare the rising generation to make citizens, which must be its reason, if any) thinks it necessary to prescribe a state education, it is equally important that their food, and even their clothing, should be of the approved state quality and pattern!!! all know that this was the old lacædemonian plan, and how it ended history tells;--in ferocity, avarice, dishonesty and disruption. all admit the folly and wickedness of forcing a people into uniformity in matter of religion. now it is just as unreasonable, just as absurd, just as wicked to force the people into uniformity in the matter of education. one species of tyranny as well as the other disregards the just claims of conscience, tramples on the most vital rights of individuals, and usurps the most sacred right of the family. the state may, indeed, require that the children should be educated, in order that they may one day become worthy members of society, and fit subjects for the state; but claim, and give, and control their education, the state cannot. there is in all this matter a feature not always clearly represented. it is this: any provision made by the "state" for education, must refer _to the poor and otherwise unprovided_, and be justified on the grounds of the state standing to these classes _in loco parentis_; beyond this, though the state, as to "charitable uses," may be defined _parens patria_, yet, as to the people at large, _it has nothing to do with their education whatever_. if this simple though undeniable fact were properly understood, it would save a world of trouble and confusion. i am speaking of a "_christian state_," and the state in america is christian. the very graves, if necessary, would open and give up their dead to bear testimony to its christian origin. its civilization is christian, and is the product of the principles of the "_new law_" as taught and promulgated by the church. the distinguishing feature of this civilization is, that it has asserted the dignity of freedom of the _individual man_, while the ancient, or gentile, civilization, _sunk_ the _individual man_ in the composite society called the state. in that case it was but reasonable that the _state_ should, _as owner_, take upon itself the burden of providing, not only for his government, but also for the education of his offspring. these, too, belonged to it, on the maxim of roman or pagan law, that _partus sequitur ventrem_, or the offspring follows the parent. this is the origin of the pagan doctrine, "_the children of the state_"--a miserable relic of barbarism. it is important to keep this fact in mind, when we deny the _supremacy of the state_ in the matter of education. our children, then, are not the _children of the state_. the state has no children, and never had, nor will. the state does not own them, nor their fathers nor mothers, nor anybody else in this country, thank god! we have not got that far yet on the road to civil slavery, and i hope we never shall. we are not pagans, nor mahometans, nor russians. we have not sold out, and don't intend to! we are free, for with a great price our forefathers have bought this freedom; and better still, we are made, through the mercy of our divine author, christians, and heirs to a heavenly kingdom. our children, too, are free; they belong by the order of nature to their parents, and by the order of grace to our lord jesus christ. they are children of god and heirs to his heavenly kingdom. it is not on the state, but on parents, that god imposed the duty to educate their children, a duty from which no state can dispense, nor can fathers and mothers relieve themselves of this duty by the vicarious assumption of the state. they have to give a severe account of their children on the day of judgment, and they cannot allow any power to disturb them in insisting upon their rights and making free use of them. the state has no more authority or control rightfully over our children, than over a man's wife. the right to educate our children is a right of conscience, and a right of the family. now these rights do not belong to the temporal order at all; and outside of this the state has no claim, no right, no authority. when the state has children, it will be time enough to teach them. how long will it take our enlightened age to learn this simple but important truth? nothing shows better the absurdity of the state in claiming the right of education, than its incompetency for the task. the state is forbidden any interference with religion. i have shown that the whole system is infidel in principle. the state says we want no religion taught in the public schools, because, as we cannot teach you religion without inculcating some form or other professed by some sect or other, and as we do not wish to give offence, we will teach you none. let the child believe anything or nothing, so as it is not some form of "sectarianism." i worship in the "pantheon;" all are alike to me, of course. in all this the state is perfectly consistent, and cannot do otherwise. it has undertaken a part _it is not competent to perform_. the state, as state, professes no form of belief. its gods, its worships, its altars, its victims, its rewards, its punishments, its heaven, its hell--are here. it teaches no religion, because it don't profess any. it was not born, it will not die, it has no soul, it was not created, it will not be judged in the world to come, like men. but let me not be misunderstood as concluding that states, nations, or kingdoms are not moral persons, and are not responsible for their acts and conduct to almighty god. they have no right to do wrong more than an individual. "states" have their lives, their mission, their destiny; they have their sphere here below. they represent the temporal, or the things which belong to cæsar. the state, then, is a moral person, and _a fortiori_, a religious person, _for there can be no morality without religion_. but though religion, in a general sense, be recognized by the state, it has no authority to control or direct it. it must respect the conscience of an individual. this is his birthright, and cannot be voted away, whether to support public schools or public churches. if there be amongst us any number, great or small, who deny the common faith, it is the duty of the state to tolerate them. a greater power--god--does this. but the state itself cannot profess or _play infidel_, or, under pretence of avoiding sectarian partiality, strike at the root of all christianity. i admit the state is of the "temporal order," and cannot discriminate between the various modes of belief; but not for that can it place itself _outside_ of them. it is _distinguishable_, but not _separable_, from the spiritual order. it is simply a means to a greater end. it is a mischievous error to say that the state has nothing to do with religion, and may act outside of its obligations. if by this it is meant that the state cannot establish or maintain any special form of religion, or interfere with its profession, or even denial by others, i admit the proposition; but if, on the other hand, it is meant that it regards christianity and infidelity, god or no god, truth and error, either as equal or unimportant, then i utterly deny and condemn it. to bear with and tolerate error is its duty; to foster or provide for its support or propagation, or place it on the same footing with revealed truth, is another and very different thing. the constitutions of the state guarantee to every citizen the right to worship god according to the dictates of his own conscience; but this is not guaranteeing to every one the liberty of not worshipping god at all, to deny his existence, his revelation, or to worship a false god. the freedom guaranteed is the freedom of religion, not the freedom of infidelity. the american constitution grants to the infidel the right of protection in his civil and political equality, but it grants him no right to protection and support in his infidelity; for infidelity is not a religion, but the denial of all religion. the american state is christian, and under the christian law, and is based upon christian principles. it is bound to protect and enforce christian morals and its laws, whether assailed by mormonism, spiritism, freelovism, pantheism, or atheism. but the state does the contrary. for, i ask, is not the state indirectly prohibiting the profession of christianity by establishing a system of education which prohibits all religious instruction? the state forbids the teacher to speak a word on the subject of religion. the state says that "it is an admitted axiom that our form of government, more than all others, depends on the _virtue and intelligence of the people_. the state proposes to furnish this _virtue_ and _intelligence_ through the _public schools_." that is, the safety of the state depends on the virtue and intelligence of the people, and the latter is derived from the virtue and intelligence of the "state." but where does the virtue and intelligence of the state come from? the only answer on this theory is, from the people. so the "state" enlightens and purifies the people, and the people enlighten and purify the "state." the people support the state, the state supports the public schools, and they support the state. if this is not what logicians call a "vicious circle," it looks very much like it. it puts me in mind of the brahmin's theory of the support of the earth. the hindoo says, "the world rests on the back of an elephant--the elephant rests on the back of a turtle." but what does the turtle rest on? so it is with our "_public school brahmins_." they will tell you, with all the coolness of hindoo hypocrisy and pretension, that the "state depends on the schools--the schools on the state or people," but they do not say what the turtle stands on. this is the dilemma that all who rest society on the state, or on an atheistical basis, get into. they would cut the world loose from its assigned order of dependence on divine law, and "set it a-going on its own hook." but the trouble is, they have no support for this turtle; they have an earth without axis. the public school savans would have a self-supporting, a self-adjusting, and a self-created state, balanced on nothing, resting on nothing, responsible to nothing, and believing in nothing but in its own perfection and immortality. they pretend, "through godless schools," to give virtue without morality, morality without religion, and religion without god; thereby sinking below the level of the poor indian, whose untutored mind sees god in the clouds, and hears him in the wind. the nameless abominations of the communists, fourrierists, and other such vile and degraded fraternities; the cold-blooded murders and frightful suicides that fill so many domestic hearths with grief and shame; the scarcely-concealed corruption of public and professional men; the adroit peculation and wilful embezzlement of the public money; those monopolizing speculations and voluntary insolvencies so ruinous to the community at large; and, above all, those shocking atrocities so common in our country of unbelief--the legal dissolution of the matrimonial tie, and the wanton tampering with life in its very bud; all these are humiliating facts sufficient to convince any impartial mind that there can be no social virtue, no morality, no true and lasting greatness, without religion. "religion," says lord derby, "is not a thing apart from education, but is interwoven with its whole system; it is a principle which controls and regulates the whole mind and happiness of the people." and, "popular education," says guizot, "to be truly good and socially useful, must be fundamentally religious." the essential element of education--its pith and marrow, so to speak--is the religious element. by excluding it from the school-room the state has committed a crying injustice to the rising generation, and one of the worst--if not the very worst--of crimes against society. it is not one portion of the "triple man," but the whole--the physical, intellectual, and moral being--the body, the mind, the head, as stated in a previous chapter--that must be cultivated and "brought up." neglect any one part of man's nature, and you at once disturb the equilibrium of the whole, and produce disorder; educate the body at the expense of the mind and soul, and you will have only animated clay; educate the intelligence at the expense of the moral and religious feelings, and you but fearfully increase a man's power to effect evil. you store the arsenal of his mind with weapons to sap alike the altar and the throne, to carry on a war of extermination against every holy principle, against the welfare and the very existence of society. science, without religion, is more destructive than the sword in the hands of unprincipled men; it will prove more of a demon than a god. it is these upholders of the present public school system that arrest the progress of true happiness in our country, and prepare terrible catastrophes, which may deluge the land with blood. who were the leaders in the work of destruction and wholesale butchery in the reign of terror? the nurslings of lyceums in which the chaotic principles of the "philosophers" were proclaimed as _oracles of truth_. who are those turbulent revolutionists who now long to erect the guillotine by the tuilleries? and who are those secret conspirators and their myrmidon partisans who have sworn to unify italy or lay it in ruins? men who were taught to scout the idea of a god and rail at religion, to consider christianity as a thing of the past; men who revel in wild chimeras by night, and seek to realize their mad dreams by day. let us, then, dear american fellow-citizens, rest assured that intellectual discipline, without the coöperation of any religious element, will not, and cannot, produce the greatness of a nation, nor can it maintain its life and splendor and prevent its decay; let us, on the contrary, be persuaded that the only safety for a commonwealth, the only source of greatness and prosperity for a nation, as well as of tranquillity and happiness for the individual, is the true religion of jesus christ; it is this religion alone that is the safeguard of morality, and morality is the best security of law, as well as the surest pledge of freedom. chapter x. the state a robber.--violation of our constitution and common law. we have seen, so far, that the irreligious, godless system of the public schools tends directly to turn the youth of both sexes into the worst kind of infidels; to make them disregard good principles, and hold iniquity in veneration; to do away, not only with all revealed religion, but even with the law of nature; to make them practise fraud, theft, and robbery almost as a common trade; to make them regardless of their parents and of all divinely constituted authority; we have seen that this godless system of education is the most powerful means to create confusion, not only in religion, but also in government and in the family circle; to increase the number of apostates, and make of these apostates members of such secret societies as aim at the overthrow of governments and all good order, and christian religion itself. truly, this godless system of education, if carried out to its logical consequences, will disrupt society, destroy the right of the christian family entirely, bring back on the world the barbarism, tyranny and brutality of pagan antiquity, and make slaves and victims of its children and their posterity forever! who does not feel most indignant at the state for having introduced such a godless system of education? and for the support of this system of education--of this _prolific mother of children of anti-christ_--we are enormously tithed and taxed! horrible! i have shown that the state in america is christian; that it cannot profess or play infidel. what right, then, has a christian state to compel christians to support infidel schools? is not this compulsory support most violative of constitutional and religious rights? according to the constitution of the state, "no human authority can control or interfere with the rights of conscience." now, the direction and control of the education of our children is clearly not only a duty, but a "right of conscience." this right, of course, belongs to all denominations, whether few or many. by what authority, then, does the state impose _an established system_ of education at our expense against this constitutionally guaranteed right of conscience? i would like to know wherein this differs from an established church, such as has been lately removed, after having been imposed for centuries by state supremacy on the irish people, without their consent. _it is, in fact, much worse_; for though the episcopal church was not in accordance with the religious belief of a majority, yet it was, nevertheless, a christian church of a sect of high orthodox pretensions. but these "_public schools_," for whose support we and all other christian denominations are taxed, are, by their own confession, utterly _irreligious_. the early christians refused to burn even a little gum-rosin (incense) before the pagan idols, and preferred rather to go to the lions; but we christians, in this late day, and in what is boastingly called "free america," are forced to pay taxes to support what is worse than heathen idols--schools from which the name of god is excluded, and, to our shame, we submit. referring to the wrong done to catholics who cannot, in conscience, send their children to these schools, judge taft, of ohio, said not long ago: "this is too large a circumstance to be covered by the latin phrase, 'de minimis non curat lex.' these catholics (paying their proportion of the taxes) are constrained, every year, on conscientious grounds, to yield to others their right to one-third of the school-money, a sum averaging, at the present time, about $ , every year. that is to say, these people are _punished_ every year, for believing as they do, to the extent of $ , ; and to that extent those of us who send our children to these excellent common schools _become beneficiaries of the catholic money_. what a shame for protestants to have their children educated for money robbed from catholics! mercantile life is supposed to cultivate, in some, a relish for hard bargains. but if it were a business matter, and not a matter of religious concern, could business men be found willing to exact such a pecuniary advantage as this? i think it would shock the secular conscience!" the state, in creating _free schools_, is like the turkish bashaw's mode of making pork cheap. he first compelled the jews to buy it at a rate fixed by himself; but the jews had no use for it, so it was left for every one to pick up at will. indeed, what is a school worth when a man will pay a premium to be exempt from sending his children to it? the state, boasting of its splendid public schools, is also like that poor fellow who wore a gold watch and boasted of it. "where did you get it?" he was asked. "i got it as a present," he answered. then he related how one day he met with a rich man: "i knocked him down," he said, "put my foot on his throat, and said: 'give me your watch, or i kill you.' so he gave it to me." "pay your taxes for the erection and support of our public schools," says the lord state to the poor and to the rich, "or i sell your property." what a shame! the catholics ask no favor, but they insist on their rights. in this country, whose discoverer was a catholic--in this country, where the principle of religious toleration was first established by a catholic nobleman, the famous and chivalric calvert, earl of baltimore--in this country, whose people are largely indebted for their freedom to the armed coöperation and generous aid of catholic france--in this country, whose constitutional freedom has been struck down by the malevolent puritanism _which in one breath declares that catholics are opposed to education, and in the next insists that they shall be deprived of the means necessary for its maintenance_--in this country, i say, we catholics are entitled to equal rights, and to a fair share, to a just apportionment of the annual amount raised by taxation for the support of our charitable and educational institutions. we ask only what is fair, what is just, what is right; and we base our demand upon principle, and not upon the ground of favors granted or received. if the state taxes us, as a religious and christian people, for the education of our children, it must give us a christian education. if it cannot, or will not do that, it must cease to tax us, and leave the education of our children to ourselves. if the christian gives to cæsar what belongs to cæsar, he has a right to demand of cæsar that he allow him to give to god what belongs to god. again, the constitution says, "that no person shall be compelled to erect, support, or attend any place of public worship, nor support any minister of the gospel, or teacher of religion," etc.; and it says, "that no private property ought to be taken or applied to public use without just compensation." now let us apply these constitutional principles to state-schools, and see if our compulsory support of them is not violative of our constitution as well as common law. why is it "that no person shall be compelled to erect, support, or attend any place of public worship, nor support any minister of religion"? simply because he "don't want to"; and he don't want to, "because it is against his conscience"; and "no human authority," says the constitution, "can control or interfere with the rights of conscience"; that is all the reason, and no other. the state believes that all places of worship, and ministers of the gospel, are good; but, knowing that there is a difference of opinion among the people on that subject, wisely leaves such matters to their choice, and will not take private property for public use without compensation. why, then, is private property taken for public schools without compensation? we cannot use them in conscience, and we have seen there is no lawful power or authority to "control or interfere with conscience." i ask, then, if i am not right in stating that our compulsory support of an odious and infidel system of public schools, against our conscience and against our consent, is not far worse than the support of any form of church establishment? moreover, according to the constitution, "no preference can ever be given by law to any church, sect, or mode of worship." this section is often quoted as the authority and reason for excluding religious teachings from the public schools; but, strange enough, it is flagrantly violated by the present system, giving a _preference by law_ to the _unbelievers_, and thereby discriminating against the believers of all sects and denominations. for, after all, there can be but two churches, or, if you please, sects, in the eye of the state--the believers and unbelievers. to the former belong the various christian denominations, and to the latter those who deny and _protest_ against all religious faith and belief. those certainly are the last, and for that reason, if for no other, are the _best or worst_ (as people may choose to view them) sect. it is, then, this last product, this "_caput mortuum_" of all sects and believers of every shade and kind, that is favored by the no-belief system of education. "though the state may not give any preference to any church or sect," it is not, on that account, authorized to ignore and reject all; but, on the contrary, is obliged in justice to assist all or none, as, by this course alone, it avoids giving preference to any. this is what the law contemplates, and the only course that comports with reason and justice. if it suits the _last sect_--the _unbelievers or no-believers_--to exclude morals or religion from schools, all right; let them keep on as at present. but if it suits the various other churches or sects to modify the system to suit their conscientious views and beliefs, to apply their own proportion of the school tax for that purpose, it is their undeniable and lawful right. there is one view in which the public will agree in regard to the public schools: it is that they cost too much money. for the management of the godless public schools there is a costly array of "commissioners," and "inspectors," and "trustees," and "superintendents," and "secretaries of boards," and "central officers," all in league with "contractors," to make "a good thing"--so-called--out of the plan. we have, now, contractors for buildings and repairs, contractors for furniture, contractors for books, contractors for furnaces, contractors for fuel, contractors even for pianos, and all making money out of it. the "boards" that give the contracts do not make any money by way of commissions, do they? ah! you know full well that hundreds of thousands of dollars are annually spent or squandered in running these public schools, and which are recommended, in a particular manner, for their _economy_! but aside, for a moment, from these _public schools_, so numerous, so costly, so grand and imposing in their exterior, managed by a little army of high-paid professors, teachers, superintendents and assistants, costing the people of every city and state hundreds of thousands of dollars annually, there is another army, yea, a volunteer army, not commissioned or paid by the state, but by a greater power--god--who, for his love, and that uncomparable reward which only god bestows, devote themselves to teaching, instructing, training and educating the poor, the needy, the orphan, the houseless, the homeless, the forlorn, the despised, as well as the more favored of the earth. these make no grandiloquent printed reports in costly binding; they have no official stenographers or reporters to noise their proceedings in "morning papers"; they have no "polytechnic halls," fitted up with pretentious libraries, and all the surroundings of upholstery, and heating and cooling apparatus; but winter and summer, early and late, they keep the even tenor of their way with an "_eye single_" to their humble and laborious duties. in nearly all the cities of america, in those busy and worldly centres of traffic and trade, of luxury and wealth, with their average of good and evil, virtue and crime, this "_volunteer army_" distributes itself noiselessly, quietly, and as it were obscurely, not heralded nor preceded by the emblems of pomp or worldly power, but nevertheless making its conquests and asserting its quiet influence in lanes and alleys, gathering up the little children, taking them to its camps, and instructing and educating them in the service of god and society. you may have seen, in some of those cities, that long line of little boys or girls, two by two, extending to the length of a block or more; you may have observed how regularly they are assorted, the tallest in first, and ranging down to the little ones, whose busy feet are trying to keep up with the column. you may also have noted the order and silence (so unusual among children), and your attention was arrested, and perhaps you know not how all this order in this beautiful panorama was brought about. well, with these boys you may have observed two men, one at the head, the other at the foot of this long line. if you saw this for the first time you may have wondered, and i suppose been even amused, at the figure and costume of those men;--the broad-brimmed hat, the long, strange-fashioned robe, the white collar, the collected air and mien, all bespeak the _christian brother_. these men, nevertheless, are "profoundly learned in all the sciences of the schools." they have abandoned home, family, friends, and have devoted themselves, merely for a scant support, to the education of the young. if, on the other hand, the long line are girls, you may have observed two ladies; one at the head, the other at the foot. you will at a glance conclude they are not of the world. their costume is of the homeliest cut and quality, but scrupulously clean; there is a something about their very presence that impresses you with reverence and respect, and you must be a very hardened sinner indeed if you did not feel the better of having even their shadow fall upon you. these silent, collected, but impressive women are "_nuns_" of one order or another. they, too, have left all to serve god in the persons of these little children. they have made sacrifices greater than the world can appreciate or understand, and which only the divine master can reward. their whole life is a silent but an eloquent sermon, their whole conduct the gospel in action. you will remember they are women like others of their sex, and mayhap have been flattered and petted, and once filled with the natural vanity and expectations of their sex; but all these they have put _behind_ them, and henceforth and forever their walk, and life, and conversation is with god, and in the service of his little ones. now it will be easily seen that the personal influence of such men and women over the life and manners of children, must be immensely beneficial. it is granted that the influence of father and mother is potential for good or evil. so it is with teachers. children are shrewd observers, and are apt to take some one as a prototype and exemplar. this one they copy as near as may be. these "christian brothers," and "nuns, or sisters," are good models; they teach the children to pray in the best of all ways--by praying themselves first; they try to impress on these tender souls sentiments of love, obedience, and respect to their fathers and mothers, and, above all, their duties to our dear lord. they accompany them to his altar on sundays and holy days, beginning and ending all their daily lessons with a little prayer or devotion. for the rest, they give them, in their schools, a plain, practical education. every day (we are told) there are instances of men slipping from the high rounds to the lowest one in the ladder of wealth. business men find themselves engulphed in the sea of financial embarrassment, from which they emerge with nothing but their personal resources to depend upon for a living. clerks, salesmen, and others find themselves thrown out of employment, with no prospect of speedily obtaining places which they are competent to fill, and with no other means of gaining a livelihood. how many men are there in every city to-day, some of whom have families dependent on them for support, who bewail the mistake they made in not learning useful trades in their younger days? there are hundreds of them. there are men in every city who have seen better days, men of education and business ability, who envy the mechanic, who has a sure support for himself and family in his handicraft. parents make a great mistake when they impose upon the brain of their boy the task of supporting him, without preparing his hands for emergencies. no matter how favorable a boy's circumstances may be, he should enter the battle of life as every prudent general enters the battle of armies: with a reliable reserve to fall back upon in case of disaster. every man is liable to be reduced to the lowest pecuniary point at some stage of his life, and it is hardly necessary to refer to the large proportion of men who reach that point. no man is poor who is the master of a trade. it is a kind of capital that defies the storm of financial reverse, and that clings to a man when all else has been swept away. it consoles him, in the hour of adversity, with the assurance that, let whatever may befall him, he need have no fear for the support of himself and his family. unfortunately a silly notion--the offspring of a sham aristocracy--has, of late years, led many parents to regard a trade as something disreputable, with which their children should not be tainted. labor disreputable! what would the world be without it? it is the very power that moves the world. a power higher than the throne of the aristocracy has ennobled labor, and he who would disparage it must set himself above the divine principle, "in the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread!" a trade is a "friend in need"; it is independence and wealth--a rich legacy which the poorest father may give to his son, and which the richest should regard as more valuable than gold. now what kind of education is necessary for a tradesman to carry on business successfully? only a plain, practical education; that is to say, that kind and amount of knowledge of daily ordinary use and appreciation. it is reading, writing, arithmetic, english grammar, and geography, and possibly a knowledge of the german language, sufficient to speak it. if we look around we will see that all the important and every-day duties of life are carried on by the use of industry, common sense, reading, writing, and arithmetic. and it might almost be said that the failures are to be ascribed, in part, if not to over-education, at least to the common misdirection of acquirements, accompanied with the vague ambition and desires which they invariably excite, but rarely serve to satisfy. why, i could find, for instance, in the history, management, and success of every newspaper editor, a living proof of my proposition. not that i leave it to be inferred that there is not, in these newspapers, the evidences of every kind of acquirements and ability; but that the founders within my knowledge, and those who have made it the _power_ and _success_ that it is, have worked with these ordinary instruments. but why give one instance when there are so many on every side--so much so that the success of what is called the learned class is so rare, that it must be put among the exceptions. as to those who are able, and desire further information, they can have it to any extent at the colleges, convents, academies and higher schools. many of our "dissenting brethren," of the various denominations, are equally diligent, according to the measure of grace and light given them, to bring their children up in christian morals and education. they have their own schools, and support them, or they send their children to catholic institutions, and will not have them tempted or corrupted by the evil influences, moral, social, and intellectual, that emanate and surround those "_whited sepulchres_"--the godless schools--as the miasm emanates and surrounds the pestilent marsh. in all these schools the children are carefully trained in christian practices, prayers, and religious duties, as well as taught a good, plain, practical course of studies. in fact, they are truly _educated_; while in the public schools they are simply instructed, as you might irrational animals, according to their instinct. the jews also teach and bring up their children in the religion of their fathers, at their own expense; so that more than one-half are, fortunately for themselves, and fortunately for society, the good order and well-being of the state, educated outside of immoral and dangerous pest-houses. it is on this element of our population that the future of the state depends; for if we are to have a sound public conscience and a controlling conservative influence in public or private affairs, we must, under god and his church, obtain it from a true christian education. at these parish schools, supported by voluntary aid, the expenses of pupils per year is under seven dollars; at the public schools, it is, i am informed, about thirty-two dollars; so that it costs about four times as much to give the poor, miserable, shallow, infidel instruction in the public schools, as it does to give a good christian education in the denominational ones; or, in plainer language, to educate , children in denominational schools saves to tax-payers not less than the _small sum_! of $ , . "if thy right hand scandalize thee, cut it off and cast it from thee; for it is expedient for thee that one of thy members should perish, rather than thy whole body be cast into hell."--(matt. v. .) by the present public school system, the state scandalizes the family, because it usurps the rights and duties that belong alone to parents; it scandalizes the tax-payer, because it takes money from him which it has no right to take; it scandalizes society, because, instead of teaching virtue, it teaches vice; it scandalizes the young men and the young women, because, instead of inspiring them with love for christianity and their religious duties, it inspires them rather with contempt for religion, and turns them into actual unbelievers, and thus destroys the very life of society and the basis of every government; it scandalizes all nations, because there is not, and there has never been, any nation inculcating education without religion. by its present system of education, the state has weakened, and will finally break up and destroy, the christian family. the social unit is the family, not the individual; and the greatest danger to american society is, that we are rapidly becoming a nation of isolated individuals, without family ties or affections. the family has already been much weakened, and is fast disappearing. we have broken away from the old homestead, have lost the restraining and purifying associations that gathered round it, and live away from home in hotels and boarding-houses. a large and influential class of women not only neglect, but disdain, the retired and simple domestic virtues, and scorn to be tied down to the modest but essential duties--the drudgery, they call it--of wives and mothers. we are daily losing the faith, the virtues, the habits, and the manners, without which the family cannot be sustained. this, coupled with the separate pecuniary interests of husband and wife secured, make the family, to a fearful extent, the mere shadow of what it was and of what it should be. what remains of the family is only held together by the graces and virtue of women. but even this last hope is fast breaking down, by the great facility of obtaining a divorce _a vinculo matrimonii_--a facility by which the laws of most of the states of the union grant to lust the widest margin of license, and legalize concubinage and adultery. now when the family goes, the nation goes too, or ceases to be worth preserving. god made the family the type and basis of society; "male and female made he them." by its present system of education, the state makes war on god and his christ, and says, with lucifer, "non servio"; and this is the daring rebel against god and his law, that would claim the innocent children of the christian family as its own; teach them its false maxims, promising them, as satan, its master, did the saviour, riches, and honors, and power, if they will but fall down and worship it. how incomprehensibly strange it is, that good men and women who profess christianity, and acknowledge the obligations of its commandments, should give ear to this tempter, instead of saying, "get behind me, satan," and, "thou art a liar and a cheat from the beginning." the state, in this subject of education, represents the world; and religion, as well as experience, teaches us its folly, its wickedness, its treachery and its ambition. "the state promises bread and gives a stone." it promises wealth, and honor, and gives taxes, slavery, and degradation. it is blind, and it attempts to lead; it is ignorant, and it offers to teach and direct the young. it will not receive the law, and it claims the right to give it. it arrogates the "_higher law_," and "_would be as god_." there is the danger; and it is against this the fight must be made, if we would not surrender our civil and religious freedom, our temporal and eternal happiness. surely it is time for all good christians of america to cry out to our rulers, "and now, o ye rulers, understand; receive instruction, you that judge the earth."--(ps. ii. x.) do not force any longer upon a christian nation an educational system which produces such results; do not train any longer our children without religion--to infidelity, and consequently to revolution. do not teach the youth of america any longer to reject god and his religion; they will not be long faithful to you if you make them unfaithful to the faith of their fathers. you, and all the classes in society who delight in seeing the influence of religion weakened or destroyed, never seem to realize, until it is too late, that you are sure to be the especial victims of your own success. the man who scorns to love god and his law, how shall he continue to love his neighbor? the man who has said "there is no god," is he not on the point of also saying "lust is lawful," "property is robbery"? if you raise instruments to deny god and to do away with all religious principles, god will use these very instruments to do away with you also. your pagan system of education will ultimately overturn all order in the land. among ancient pagan nations, where the poor were comparatively ignorant--where they did not know their rights--it was easy to hold them in bondage; but now things have changed. discontent in the lower order of society can no longer be smothered. education has become general; and, unfortunately, the very element, without which education is often a curse, is omitted. religious education has been separated from secular instruction. without religion, the poor are unable to control their passions, or to bear their hard lot. they see wealth around them, and, unless taught by religion, they see no reason why that wealth should not be divided amongst them. why should they starve, while their neighbors roll in splendor and luxury? if the poor were ignorant, they would not, perhaps, notice all the sad privations of their state; they would not, perhaps, feel them so keenly. but they are partially educated, and "a little learning is a dangerous thing." they know their power, and, not having the soothing influence of religion to restrain them, they use their power. they have done so in france and elsewhere, and if they do not always succeed in producing revolution, and anarchy, it is only the bayonet that prevents them. such is the abyss that yawns beneath the feet of our country, and into which the advocates of _education without religion_--perhaps some of them unconsciously--seek to precipitate us, by continuing to force upon this christian nation an anti-christian, an anti-american system of education. surely the grievance is not simply an affair of taxes, or so much money unjustly levied and collected. this we might bear, as we have to do in other cases of injustice, for righteousness' sake. but we have a duty to god, ourselves, and our children. we recognize the office and obligations of the state as _temporal ruler_, but we do not acknowledge in it an absolute and _unconditional_ authority. we do not admit the doctrine of _passive obedience_. we will not and cannot surrender the education of our children to its dictation and control, for that is a trust placed in our hands by a higher power, and for which we will have to answer, at the last day, on our salvation. i ask--am i right in all that i have said upon the state and its godless system of education? if i am, then i think i have a right to ask for a verdict of "guilty." if there are still some who cannot see that i am right, then let them, without delay, be operated upon for _amaurosis_. but then, in god's name, is it not high time to inquire what should be done to correct the system, and stop the torrent of its evil influences? this is a great question; it demands a speedy and satisfactory solution. the interests it involves are commensurate with time and eternity. chapter xi. remedy for the diabolical spirit and the crimes in our country. men look around, and ask, where is the remedy for the so wide-spread corruption of all classes of society? this is a most important question. it is not difficult for a christian to answer it. a skilful physician, who wishes to cure his patient, endeavors first to remove the cause of the disease. so, in like manner, if we wish to stem the torrent of the evils that flood the land, we must stop the source from which they flow. now the leading men and the most prominent journals of new york and new england, confess that the greater part of the wide-spread immorality in our day and country is to be traced to the separation of religion from the instruction in our public schools. governor brown, addressing the seventh national teachers' convention in st. louis, in august last, said: "it is a very customary declaration to pronounce that education is the great safeguard of republics against the decay of virtue and the reign of immorality. yet the facts can scarcely bear out the proposition. the highest civilizations, both ancient and modern, have sometimes been the most flagitious. nowadays, certainly, your prime rascals have been educated rascals." and indeed if we go to auburn, sing sing, and other prisons, and examine some of the criminals confined there, we will find that there is truth in the governor's words. do the managers of the erie railway lack any kind of intelligence that could be communicated in a common school? are not those pests, the washington and albany lobbies, rather _too_ knowing? had not those blood-suckers, the shoddy-ites and army contractors, an average common school education? do not the "gold rings" and the "whiskey rings" know how to read and write? were not catiline of old, and aaron burr and benedict arnold of more recent times, men of intelligence? were not the parties to the recent tragedy, two of whom mr. beecher united in unholy wedlock, passable enough in point of merely intellectual cultivation? mephistopheles was a person of surprising accomplishments, and the ablest debates in literature are those which milton puts in the mouths of the grand synod of devils in pandemonium. byron was a prodigy of intelligence; but, whether mrs. stowe's revolting accusation be true or not, he was certainly a profligate. no one, certainly, gifted with ordinary power of observation, will ascribe crime solely to ignorance, nor will such a one fail to see that a large class of the most audacious and dangerous offenders of both sexes are educated, nay, over-educated, according to the public school standard. the boston daily _herald_, of october th, published the following as an editorial article: "year after year the chief of police publishes his statistics of prostitution in this city, but how few of the citizens bestow more than a passing thought upon the misery that they represent! although these figures are large enough to make every lover of humanity hang his head with feelings of sorrow and shame at the picture, we are assured that they represent but a little, as it were, of the actual licentiousness that prevails among all classes of society. within a few months, a gentleman[f] whose scientific attainments have made his name a household word in all lands, has personally investigated the subject, and the result has filled him with dismay; when he sees the depths of degradation to which men and women have fallen, he has almost lost faith in the boasted civilization of the nineteenth century. in the course of his inquiries he has visited both the well-known 'houses of pleasure' and the 'private establishments' scattered all over the city. he states that he has a list of both, with the street and number, the number of inmates, and many other facts that would perfectly astonish the people if made public. he freely conversed with the inmates, and the life-histories that were revealed were sad indeed. to his utter surprise, a large proportion of the 'soiled doves' _traced their fall to influences that met them in the public schools_; and although boston is justly proud of its schools, it would seem, from his story, that they need a thorough purification. in too many of them the most obscene and soul-polluting books and pictures circulate among both sexes. the very secrecy with which it is done throws an almost irresistible charm about it; and to such an extent has the evil gone, that we fear a large proportion of both boys and girls possess some of the articles, which they kindly (?) lend to each other. the natural result follows, and frequently the most debasing and revolting practises are indulged in. and the evil is not confined alone to boston. other cities suffer in the same way. it is but a few years since the second city in the commonwealth was stirred almost to its foundations by the discovery of an association of boys and girls who were wont to indulge their passions in one of the school-houses of the city; and not long ago another somewhat similar affair was discovered by the authorities, but hushed up for fear of depopulating the schools." "that the devil is in the _public schools_, raging and rampant there among the _pupils_ as well as among the _teachers_, no one can well doubt who has sent a little child into them, as guiltless of evil or unclean thoughts as a newly fallen snowflake, and had him come home, in a short time, contaminated almost beyond belief by the vileness and filth which he has seen, and heard, and learned _there_."--(hathe tyng griswold, in _old and new_, for march; or _boston pilot_, april , .) a celebrated physician of this country says in his book, "satan in society," as follows: "the evils and dangers of the present system of educating and bringing up the boys and girls of our country, are too obvious to require minute description. irreligion and infidelity are progressing _pari passu_ with the advance guards of immorality and crime, and all are _fostered_, if _not engendered_, by the _materialistic system of school instruction_, and the consequent wretched training at home and on the play-ground. the entire absence of all religious instruction from the school-room is fast bearing fruit in a generation of infidels, and we are becoming worse even than the pagans of old, who had at least their positive sciences of philosophy, and their religion, such as it was, to oppose which was a criminal offence. to those who would dispute this somewhat horrible assertion, the author would point to the published statistics of church attendance, from which it appears that of the entire population but a very small proportion are habitual church-goers. deducting from these, again, those who attend church simply as a matter of fashion, or from other than religious motives, and there remains a minimum almost too small to be considered, abundantly sustaining our charge. the disintegration of the prevalent forms of religious belief, the rapid multiplication of sects, the increase in the ranks of intellectual sceptics, the fashionable detractions from, and perversions of, the holy scriptures, acting with the influences already mentioned, may well cause alarm. "but we have not only the removal of the salutary restraints of religious influence from our popular system of education; we have the promiscuous intermingling of the sexes in our public schools, which, however much we may theorize to the contrary, is, to say the least, subversive of that modest reserve and shyness which in all ages have proved the true ægis of virtue. we are bound to accept human nature as it is, and not as we would wish it to be, and both christian and pagan philosophy agree in detecting therein certain very dangerous elements. among the most dangerous and inevitable is the sexual instinct, which, implanted by the creator for the wisest purposes, is, perhaps, the most potent of all evils when not properly restrained, retarded, and directed. this mysterious instinct develops earlier in proportion as the eye and the imagination are soonest furnished the materials upon which it thrives; and, long before the age of puberty, it is strong, and well-nigh ungovernable, in those who have been allowed these unfortunate occasions. the boy of the present generation has more practical knowledge of this instinct at the age of fifteen, than, under proper training, he should be entitled to at the time of his marriage; and the boy of eleven or twelve boastfully announces to his companions the evidences of his approaching virility. nourished by languishing glances during the hours passed in the school-room, fanned by more intimate association on the journey to and from school, fed by stolen interviews and openly-arranged festivities--picnics, excursions, parties and the like--stimulated by the prurient gossip of the newspaper, the flash novels, sentimental weeklies, and magazines, the gallant of twelve years is the libertine of fourteen. that this picture is not overdrawn, every experienced physician will bear witness. "and as for the public school-girls, they return from their '_polishing schools_'--these demoiselles--cursed with a superficial smattering of everything but what they ought to have learned--physical and moral wrecks, whom we physicians are expected to _wind up_ in the morning for the husband-hunting excitements of the evening. and these creatures are intended for wives! but _wives_ only, for it is fast going out of fashion to intend them for _mothers_--an 'accident' of the kind being regarded as'_foolish_'! "we assert, then, that the present system of education, by its faults of omission and commission, is directly responsible, not, it is true, for the bare existence, but for the enormous prevalence of vices and crimes which we deplore; and we call upon the civil authorities to so modify the obnoxious arrangements of our schools, and upon parents and guardians to so instruct and govern their charges, that the evils may be suppressed, if not extinguished." the attempt to prepare man for his duties in social life with morals and religion left out, is not only a failure, but a crime. yes, it is not only a failure, but a crime of such magnitude, that society has already begun to suffer its consequences in a demoralization and _general libertinage_ of the most shameful kind. this education without religion and morals is the poisoned fountain from which flows, and will flow, if not purified by adding the essential elements now omitted, the impure streams of all kinds of vice. if god is despised, governments will be trampled on; if god's law is hated, the laws of men will be violated; man will see only his own interest, his neighbor's property will only whet his appetite; his neighbor's life will be only a secondary consideration; he would, according to his creed, be a fool not to shed blood when his interest requires it; his fellow-men become imbued with his principles--anarchy succeeds subordination--vice takes the place of virtue--what was sacred is profaned--what was honorable becomes disgraceful--might becomes right--treatises are waste paper--honor is an empty name--the most sacred obligations dwindle down into mere optional practices--youth despises age--wisdom is folly--subjection to authority is laughed at as a foolish dream--the moral code itself soon becomes little more than the bugbear of the weak-minded--crowns are trampled under foot--thrones are overturned--nations steeped in blood, and republics swept from the face of the earth. yes, continue a little longer to educate the greater part of the community according to the present system of the public schools, and rest assured we shall soon have a hell upon earth--society will be stabbed to the heart by the ruffian assassin called _godless public school education_--it will reel, stagger, and sink a bleeding victim to the ground, expiring, like the suicide, by the wound itself has inflicted. i truly believe that if satan was presented with a blank sheet of paper, and bade to write on it the most fatal gift to man, he would simply write one word--"godless schools." he might then turn his attention from this planet; "godless public schools" would do the rest. now what is to be done to stop the poisoned source from which the diabolical spirit and the crimes of our country flow? a certain class come forward and say, "let the bible be read in our public schools. the bible is the grand source of religion and morality. the bible alone, without note or comment, is the grand source of life and civilization." very well, let the bible be admitted, but with the bible you must send the key--the interpreter. and then, which of all the bibles, and whom among the numerous sects, shall be sent? to read the bible, without note or comment, to young children, is to abandon them to dangerous speculation, or to leave them dry and barren of all christian knowledge. in mixed schools there is no other resource, because it is impossible to make any comment upon any doctrinal teaching of christ and his apostles, without trenching upon the conscientious opinions of some one or other of the listeners. "the father and i are one." "the father is greater than i." here at once we have the unitarian and the trinitarian at a dead-lock! "this is my body." "it is the spirit which quickeneth, the flesh profiteth nothing." here we have the primitive lutheran, who believed in the real presence (consubstantially), and his calvinistic coadjutor in reform, squarely at issue! "unless you be born again of water and the holy ghost," etc. here we have the baptist and the quaker very seriously divided in opinion. nevertheless, widely as they differ the one from the other, there is a fundamental assimilation between all the protestant sects which may render it possible for them to unite in one educational organization; and yet we find many of the most enlightened and earnest among the protestant clergy of america now zealously advocating the denominational system, such as we find it in the european countries. they believe that education should be distinctly based upon doctrinal religion, and they are liberal enough to insist that, by natural right as well as by the constitutional guarantees of our free country, no doctrine adverse to the faith of a parent may lawfully be forced or surreptitiously imposed upon his child. it is well known, however, that between the catholic faith and all protestant creeds, there is a gulf which cannot be bridged over. it would, therefore, be simply impossible to adopt any religious teaching whatever in mixed schools, without at once interfering with catholic conscience. no such teaching is attempted, as a general rule, we believe, in the public schools of the united states, and hence we have only a vague announcement of moral precepts, the utter futility and barrenness of which must be evident to every one. catholics, agreeing with very many enlightened and zealous protestants, believe that secular education, administered without religion, is not only vain, but exceedingly pernicious; that it is fast undermining the christian faith of this nation; that it is rapidly filling the land with rationalism; that it is destroying the authority of the holy scriptures; that it is educating men who prefix "reverend" and affix "d.d." to their names, the more effectually to preach covert infidelity and immorality to christian congregations; that, instead of the saving morality of the gospel of christ, which rests upon revealed mysteries and supernatural gifts, it is offering us that same old array of the natural virtues or qualities which helped, for a while, like rotten pillars, to prop up the heathen nations of old. it must, then, be evident to every man of common sense that the reading of the bible alone, though it be the word of god, will _not_ counterbalance the results of pagan education. indeed the reading of the bible alone is by no means an adequate remedy to stem the torrent of the evils in our country. what impurities have not been committed under the sanction of those words of the lord, "increase and multiply"! a host of sectarians, following in the wake of the anabaptists of munster, in germany, have, on the authority of those words, dared to legitimate polygamy. on such misapplication of a text from the gospel, luther, bucerus, and melanchthon have permitted philip, the landgrave of hesse, to have two wives. in the name of the bible, of the word of god, luther at first incited the german peasantry to revolt against their rulers, and then, frightened at his own work, he persuaded the princes to massacre the peasants. john of leyden found, in his studies of the bible, that he should marry eleven women at once. herman felt himself clearly designated, in the bible, as the envoy of the lord. nicholas learned from it that there was no necessity of anything connected with faith, and that we must live in sin in order that grace may abound. sympson pretends to find in the scriptures an ordination that men should walk in the streets stark naked, to teach the rich a lesson that they must divest themselves of everything. richard hill justified, with the bible in hand, adultery and manslaughter as deeds never failing to work out some good purpose, especially when joined to incest, in which case more saints are added to the earth and more blessed to the heavens. even on the avowal of honest protestants, no crime or abomination has ever failed to find its pretended justification in some scriptural text. what, then, must we think of the reading of the bible, when its reading, without note or comment, leads to such consequences? indeed what has been said on the evil consequences of the public school system on society proves sufficiently that the reading of the bible is no adequate means at all to stem the torrent of crimes in our country. nowhere has the bible been read more frequently, during school-hours, than in the public schools of the new england states, and yet nowhere have the results of these schools proved more fatal than in these very states. the reading of the bible alone, therefore, though it be the word of god, will _not_ counterbalance the results of pagan education. there are others who maintain "that religious instruction should be left to parents." now it is not only idle, but cruel, to say that the place and provision for such christian instruction and formation is under the roof of the parents' home; that the best school is the family. this is indeed true of the early formation by affection, influence, example, by which fathers and mothers fashion the first outlines of character, and mature them while the education of their children is advancing. none have reminded parents of this more faithfully than the pastors of the church. but to say that fathers and mothers are to educate their children, and that their home is to be the school of christian instruction, catechetical teaching, formation of conscience, preparation for sacraments, and the like, is either the shallow talk of men who know nothing of christian education, or care nothing for it, or a heartless mockery of our poor. the rich, the refined, the educated, whose time is their own, do not educate their own children. they systematically send them to schools and colleges, or pay for tutors or governesses under their own roof. they wisely shrink from a work for which, if they have the time, they seldom have the acquirements or the gift, or the method of the perseverance or the patience. and if this be, as it is, universally true of those who are the most competent, and the most provided with all the means and opportunities for the work, now is it not hardness of heart, or want of common sense, to say that the children of the poor are to learn reading, and writing, and summing, indeed, at school, but that their christian teaching and formation must be provided at home? the workingmen of these countries are at labor from twilight to twilight. their wives have the burden of the whole family; the poor mother is alone both the head and the servant of the whole house. when is she to teach, and train, and shape, and fashion the characters, hearts, consciences, intellects of the children? is it to be done in the midst of a day's work, or in the weariness after the day's work is done? and are they competent to do what the mother of the rich cannot do? broken with cares, wearied by work, suffering from poverty, often fainting from sickness because worn out with all these burdens, how shall the father or mother of a family, huddled into a single room, do what the rich and the educated, in their spacious houses, and with abundant leisure, never dream of attempting? moreover, as i have shown in a preceding chapter, it must be admitted that a mother not educated in religious and moral principles cannot inform the mind and heart of the young child; this fully disposes of the argument that domestic teaching alone will supply what is acknowledged to be wanting in the "public schools." it is to be hoped that we shall hear no more of this heartless talk. "well, then," some will say, "let our children receive, _in sunday-schools_, that amount of religious culture and instruction which the state says shall not be given in the school, and which is believed to be so essential in the education of the young." now it is in vain to open our sunday-schools and expect to cure, on one day of the week, or rather a few hours of that day (when this even depends, in a great part, on the weather), the work not only of the other six, but the fruits of years of an ill-directed and godless state education. the sunday-schools are nothing but so many "_poor-man's soothing plasters_" on christian consciences. the want of religious training for six days in the week, added to the positive knowledge of error on all religious subjects which youths may acquire during that time, will more than counterbalance the best-directed efforts of parents and the clergy to give any definite knowledge on the truths of revelation. the question whether or not religious education is compatible with public school education, has been tried in all english-speaking countries, and in parts of germany, with this result: that, a class, the public school children are without any adequate religious knowledge or training. the clergy may have sunday-schools, as they have, in all their churches; but what can children learn, in a few hours, of a subject which took three years from the saviour of man to teach even to the apostles? and then the apostles, after three years of instruction from the lips of christ, did not understand the christian religion; they were slow to understand, and, after his resurrection, christ upbraided them with incredulity and hardness of heart. even the children of the public schools, as far as experience goes, lose all taste for the study of religion, which is developed among the children of christian schools without any effort. sunday-schools, at best, may train children to be christians _one day_ in the week, and pagans six days. school-days over, the usual result will be _pagans_ all the seven days of the week. if it is in vain to say, "let the bible be read in our public schools," or "let our children receive religious instruction from their parents, or in sunday-schools, in order to arrest the fast-spreading crimes of the land," it is still more in vain to say, "let the legislature be called upon." it cannot be denied that the higher culture of america has, from the time of the introduction of the present public school system, ceased to be christian. what is the natural harvest of this sowing? it is that we have already a generation of men, thousands of whom are not fit to be the heads and fathers of families. but this is not all; we have also ever so many guides of public opinion, ever so many ministers of public affairs, and ever so many lawgivers of the united states, who are infidels and profligates; who see _only themselves_ in all they do, who desire only to fret out their little hour on the political stage _with a sharp eye to their own interests_, without the smallest desire to secure the republic against future disasters--who cannot, or _will_ not, see the disastrous storms the ship of the republic will soon have to encounter. what good, then, could be expected from calling upon the legislature? it would only show its impotency, or, what is more, its own corruption. the executive is unable, suspected, or often found in the "_ring_," or, to use a common expression, "justice stinks." the judiciary, by its very nature, always timid, and too often time-serving, can do nothing. well, then, the press: what shall be said of it? only this: that it would be unreasonable to expect it to possess the supernatural powers of healing such a multitude of foul lepers, or to be able at any time to lift itself far above the level of the general average of the age and country. what, then, must be done to save society from the perils that menace it--to stem the tide that bids fair to sweep away, eventually, even civilization itself? we must proceed on a true principle. when we proceed on a true principle, the more logically and completely we carry it out the better; but when we start with a false principle, the more logical we are, and the farther we push it, the worse. our consistency increases, instead of diminishing, the evils we would cure. the reformers started wrong. they would reform the church by placing her under human control. their successors have in each generation found they did not go far enough, and have, each in its turn, struggled to push it farther and farther, till they find themselves without any church life, without faith, without religion, and beginning to doubt if there be even a god. so, in the question of education, the upholders of the public school system have pushed the false principle "that all individual, domestic, social, and political evils are due to ignorance, and can only be prevented by high intellectual culture," till they have nearly taught away all religious belief and morality, have well-nigh abolished the family which is the social unit, and find that the evils they pretended to prevent, and the wrongs they sought to redress, are fast increasing. we must, then, proceed on a true principle in trying to remedy the profligacy that disgraces so many of our crowded centres, and the demoralization that is fast gangrening even our rural districts. one thousand eight hundred and forty-odd years ago, you might have observed a poor, meanly-clad wanderer, wending his steps on the appian way to the capitol of the world,--the wealthy, magnificent, and ungodly city of rome. he has passed its gates, and threads his way unobserved through its populous streets. on every side he beholds gorgeous palaces raised at the expense of downtrodden nationalities; stately temples dedicated to as many false gods as nations were congregated in rome; public baths and amphitheatres devoted to pleasure and to cruelty; statues, monuments, and triumphal arches raised to the memory of blood-thirsty tyrants. he passes warriors and senators, beggars and cripples, effeminate and dissolute women, gladiators and slaves, merchants and statesmen, orators and philosophers;--all classes, all ranks, all conditions of men of every language and color under the sun. everywhere he sees a maddening race for pleasure; everywhere the impress of luxury, everywhere the full growth of crime, side by side with indescribable suffering, diabolical cruelty and barbarity. and this poor, meanly-clad wanderer was st. peter. oh! how the noble heart of the fisherman of galilee must have bled, when he observed the empire of satan so supreme--when he witnessed the shocking licentiousness of the temple and the homestead; when he saw the fearful degradation of woman groaning under the load of her own infamy; when he saw the heart-rending inhumanity which slew the innocent babes and threw them into the tiber; when he saw how prisoners of war, slaves, and soldiers were trained for bloody fights, and entered the arena of the amphitheatre, and strove whole days to strangle one another, for the special entertainment of the roman people. when peter came to rome, that city was the condensation of all the idolatry, all the oppression, all the injustice, all the immoralities of the world; for the world was centred in rome. here, then, were evils to be remedied similar to those of our day and country. pagan philosophers, poets and orators, had tried their best to cure these evils and to elevate mankind, but they had tried in vain. what they were unable to bring about, st. peter accomplished by preaching to the roman people christianity--the religion of jesus christ--which imparts to the mind infallibly the light of truth, and lays down for the will authoritatively the unchangeable principles of supernatural morality, true prosperity, true happiness, and peace on earth and for eternity. indeed, it is a well-known fact that the capitoline temple, and with it the many shrines of idolatry, the golden house of nero, and with it roman excess and roman cruelty, the throne of the cæsars, and with it roman oppression and roman injustice, gave way and disappeared in proportion as the light of christianity was infused into that foul mass, into that rotten society, centred in rome. it was this christian religion that changed a sinful people into saints, and so many holy inhabitants of heaven. and what the blessings of the religion of christ brought about in rome, they bring about wherever they are diffused. hence all true lovers of the country tell us that there is but one remedy for the cure of the diabolical spirit and the crimes of our country--it is to teach our children the truth and blessings of the christian religion. it is the christian religion that infallibly and authoritatively teaches the duties of civil authorities towards their subjects, of husbands towards their wives, of parents towards their children, of masters towards their servants, of pastors towards their flocks, of the faithful towards their pastors, of servants towards their masters, of wives towards their husbands, of children towards their parents, of subjects towards their lawfully constituted civil authorities, of all men towards god, their supreme master, and just rewarder of good and evil. moreover, it is the christian religion alone that affords men the means to obtain god's grace, which enlightens the mind to see the beauty of virtue, inflames the heart with love for it, and inclines the will to practise it with perseverance. if we then wish to be sure of having a virtuous and virile people, we must christianize our youth, especially during their school hours; we must bring up our children in a religious atmosphere. i have already remarked that religion may be compared to leaven. as leaven must be diffused throughout the entire mass in order to produce its effects, so the christian religion must be thoroughly diffused throughout the child's entire education, in order to be solid and effective. not a moment of the hours of school should be left without religious influence. it is the constant breathing of the air that preserves our bodily life, and it is the constant dwelling in a religious atmosphere that preserves the life of the youthful soul. religion is not a study, or an exercise that may be restricted to a certain place, or a certain hour. it is a faith and a law which ought to be felt everywhere, and which in this manner alone can exercise all its beneficent influence upon our minds and lives. it will never do to suffer the child to devote six days in the week to worldly science, and to depend on sunday for a religious training. this would be like reserving the salt which should season our food during the week, and taking it all in a dose on sunday. by such a system we may make expert shop-boys, first-rate accountants, shrewd and thriving "earth-worms"; but it would be presumption to think of thus making good citizens, still less virtuous christians. let us be assured that our young men know their duties to god, to their neighbors, and to themselves, and they will then, but not till then, be true christians. in being true christians they will be dutiful sons, faithful husbands, affectionate fathers, gentle masters, honest servants, law-loving and law-abiding citizens, true statesmen, good soldiers, and valiant defenders of the country, chaste and sober companions, the joy of god and of society. but, above all, let us be assured that our daughters are educated as women, not as men. women are not needed as men; they are needed as women: to do, not what men can do as well as they, but what men cannot do. woman was created to be a wife and a mother; that is her destiny. to that destiny all her instincts point, and for it nature has specially qualified her. her proper sphere is home, and her proper function is the care of the household, to manage a family, to take care of children, and attend to their early training. for this she is endowed with patience, endurance, passive courage, quick sensibilities, a sympathetic nature, and great executive and administrative ability. she was born to be a queen in her own household, and make home cheerful, bright, and happy. there it is that she is really great, noble, almost divine. now the general complaint is that the greater part of our public school-girls are not fit to be good wives, mothers and housekeepers. as wives, they forget what they owe to their husbands, are capricious and vain, often light and frivolous, extravagant and foolish, bent on having their own way, though ruinous to the family, and generally contriving, by coaxings, blandishments, or poutings, to get it. they hold obedience in horror, and seek only to govern their husbands and all around them. as mothers, they not only neglect, but disdain, the retired and simple domestic virtues, and scorn to be tied down to the modest but essential duties--the drudgery, they call it--of mothers; they manage to be relieved of household cares, especially of child-bearing, and of the duty of bringing up children. they repress their maternal instincts, and the horrible crime of infanticide before birth now becomes so fearfully prevalent, that the american nation is actually threatened with extinction. if they condescend to have one or two children, they set them an ill example; for if children see that their mother, as a wife, forgets to honor and obey her husband, and always wants to have her own way with him, they soon lose all respect for her, and insist on having their own way with her, and usually succeed. as housekeepers they devote their time to pleasure or amusement, wasting their life in luxurious ease, in reading sentimental or sensational novels, or in following the caprices of fashion; thus they let the household go to ruin, and the honest earnings of the husband becomes speedily insufficient for the family expenses, and he is sorely tempted to provide for them by rash speculation or by fraud, which, though it may be carried on for a while without detection, is sure to end in disgrace and ruin at last. there is indeed nothing which more grieves the wise and good, or makes them tremble for the future of the country, than the way in which our daughters are educated in the public schools. when they become wives and mothers, they have none of the habits or character necessary to govern their household and to train their children properly. hence arise that growing neglect or laxity of family discipline; that insubordination, that lawlessness, and precocious depravity of young america; that almost total lack of filial reverence and obedience with the children of this generation. exceptions there happily are; but the number of children that grow up without any proper training or discipline at home is fearfully large, and their evil example corrupts not a few of those who are well brought up. the country is no better than the town. as a rule, children are no longer subjected to a steady and firm, but mild and judicious, discipline, or trained to habits of filial love, respect and obedience. these habits are acquired only in a school of obedience, made pleasant and cheerful by a mother's playful smile and a mother's love. the care and management of children during their early years belong specially to the mother. the education of children may be said to commence from the moment they open their eyes and ears to the sights and sounds of the world about them; and of these sights and sounds the words and example of the mother are the most impressive and the most enduring. of all lessons, those learned at the knees of a good mother sink the deepest into the mind and heart, and last the longest. many of the noblest and best men that ever lived, and adorned and benefited the world, have declared that, under god, they owed everything that was good and useful in their lives to the love of virtue, and truthfulness, and piety, and the fear of god instilled into their hearts by the lips of a pious mother. it is her special function to plant and develop in their young and impressible minds the seeds of virtue, love, reverence, and obedience, and to train her daughters, by precept and example, not to catch husbands that will give them splendid establishments, but to be, in due time, modest and affectionate wives, tender and judicious mothers, and prudent and careful housekeepers. this the father cannot do; and his interference, except by wise counsel, and to honor and sustain the mother, will generally be worse than nothing. the task devolves specially on the mother; for it demands the sympathy with children which is peculiar to the female heart, the strong maternal instinct implanted by nature, and directed by a judicious education, that blending of love and authority, sentiment and reason, sweetness and power, so characteristic of the noble and true-hearted woman, and which so admirably fit her to be loved and honored, only less than adored, in her own household. but though the duties and responsibilities of mothers in this matter are the heaviest and most important for themselves, and for the society of all others, yet there are none which are more neglected. now wives and mothers, by neglecting their domestic duties and the proper family discipline, fail to offer the necessary resistance to growing lawlessness and crime, aggravated, if not generated, by the false notions of freedom and equality so widely entertained. it is only by home discipline, and the early habits of reverence and obedience to which our children are trained, that the license the government tolerates, and the courts hardly dare attempt to restrain, can be counteracted, and the community made a law-loving and a law-abiding community. why is it that the very bases of society have been sapped, and the conditions of good government despised, or denounced under the name of despotism? why is it that social and political life is poisoned in its source, and the blood of the nation corrupted? it is because wives and mothers have failed in their domestic duties, and the discipline of their families. and they have failed in this, because the state did not, and could not, bring them up to it. the evils we have to cure cannot be reached by the reading of the bible, by sunday-school training, nor by any possible political or legislative action. men or women cannot be legislated into virtue. that the remedy, to a great extent, must be supplied by woman's action and influence, we not only concede, but claim. but it is only as woman, as wife, as mother, that she must do the work: as woman, to soften asperities, and to refine what else were coarse and brutal; as wife, to sustain with her affection the resolutions and just aspirations of her husband, and render home bright and cheerful--"the sweetest place on earth"; as mother, to direct and inspire the noble and righteous aspirations of her sons--to train and form her children to early habits of piety, filial love and reverence, of obedience to god's law, and respect for authority. there are, in our day, comparatively few mothers who are qualified to do this. but what they can and should do is to see that they have a better and more thorough system of education for their sons, but especially for their daughters--a system of education that specially adapts them to the destiny of their sex, and prepares them to find their happiness in their homes, and the satisfaction of their highest ambition in discharging its manifold duties, so much higher, nobler, and more essential to the virtue and well-being of the community, the nation, the society, and to the life and progress of the human race, than any which devolve on king or emperor, magistrate or legislator. we would not have their generous instincts repressed, their quick sensibilities blunted, or their warm, sympathetic nature chilled, nor even the lighter graces and accomplishments neglected; but we would have them all directed and harmonized by solid intellectual instruction, and moral and religious culture. we would have them, whether rich or poor, trained to find the centre of their affections in their home; their chief ambition in making it cheerful, bright, radiant and happy. whether destined to grace a magnificent palace, or to adorn the humble cottage of poverty, this should be the ideal aimed at in their education. they should be trained to love home, and to find their pleasure in sharing its cares and performing its duties, however arduous or painful. there are, as i have said, comparatively few mothers qualified to give their daughters such an education, especially in our own country; for comparatively few have received such an education themselves, or are able fully to appreciate its importance. they can find little help in the fashionable boarding-schools for finishing young ladies; and, in general, these schools only aggravate the evils to be cured. the best and the only respectable schools for daughters that we have in the country are the conventual schools taught by women consecrated to god, and specially devoted to the work of education. these schools, indeed, are not always all that might be wished. the religious cannot, certainly, supply the place of the mother in giving their pupils that practical home-training so necessary, and which can be given only by mothers who have themselves been properly educated; but they go as far as is possible in remedying the defects of the present generation of mothers, and in counteracting their follies and vain ambitions. with all the faults that can be alleged against any of them, the conventual schools, even as they are, it must be conceded, are infinitely the best schools for daughters in the land, and, upon the whole, worthy of the high praise and liberal patronage their devotedness and disinterestedness secure them. we have seldom found their graduates weak and sickly sentimentalists. they develop in their pupils a cheerful and healthy tone, and a high sense of duty; give them solid moral, religious instruction; cultivate successfully their moral and religious affections; refine their manners, purify their tastes, and send them out feeling that life is serious, life is earnest, and resolved always to act under a deep sense of their personal responsibilities; meet whatever may be their lot with brave hearts, and without murmuring and repining. the editor of the _new york herald_ prefaces an account of a catholic academy with the following remarks: "however divided public opinion may be as to secular and religious schools--no matter what differences in opinion may exist in the community as to the policy of aiding or discouraging purely sectarian systems of education--there can be but little opposition from any quarter to the verdict of experience given by many thousand families, that these devoted women--the sisters of the catholic church--are the best teachers of young girls, the safest instructors in this age of loose, worldly, and rampant new englandism. those matters of education which make the lady, in their hands, subordinate to the great object of making every girl committed to their care a true woman, are imbued with those principles which have made our mothers our pride and boast. those of us who cavil at catholic pretensions, sneer at their assumption, and ridicule their observances, must acknowledge that the sisters are far ahead and above any organization of the sort of which protestantism can boast. the self-sacrifice, the devotion, the single-mindedness, the calm trust in a power unseen, the humility of manner and rare unselfishness which characterize the sisters, has no parallel in any organization of the reformed faith. the war placed the claims of the sisters of charity fairly before the country; but these sisters of the different branches have, in peace, 'victories no less renowned than in war.' educating the poor children, directing the untutored mind of the youthful alien savage in our midst, or holding the beacon of intellectual advancement bright and burning before the female youth of the country, and beckoning them to advance, they are ever doing a good and noble work." we do not disguise the fact that our hopes for the future, in great measure, rest on these conventual schools; if they are multiplied, and the number of their graduates increase, and enter upon the serious duties of life, the ideal of female education will become higher and broader; a nobler class of wives and mothers will exert a healthy and purifying influence; religion will become a real power in the republic; the moral tone of the community, and the standard of private and public morality, will be elevated; and thus may gradually be acquired the virtues that will enable us, as a people, to escape the dangers that now threaten us, and to save the republic as well as our own souls. sectarians, indeed, declaim against these schools, and denounce them as a subtle device of satan to make their daughters "romanists"; but satan probably dislikes "romanism" even more than sectarians do, and is much more in earnest to suppress or ruin our conventual schools, in which he is not held in much honor, than he is to sustain and encourage them. at any rate, our countrymen who have such a horror of the religion it is our glory to profess, that they cannot call it by its true name, would do well, before denouncing these schools, to establish better schools for daughters of their own. these modest, retiring sisters and nuns, who have no new theories and schemes of social reform, and upon whom a certain class of women look down with haughty contempt, as weak, spiritless, and narrow-minded, have chosen the better part, and are doing infinitely more to raise woman to her true dignity, and for the political and social, as well as for the moral and religious, progress of the country, than the woman's rights party, with all their grand conventions, brilliant speeches, stirring lectures and spirited journals. by way of parenthesis, we dare tell these women who are wasting so much time, energy, philanthropy, and brilliant eloquence in agitating for female suffrage and eligibility, which, if conceded, would only make matters worse, that, if they have the real interest of their sex or of the community at heart, they should turn their attention to the education of daughters for their special functions, not as men, but as women, who are one day to be wives and mothers--woman's true destiny. undoubtedly the special destiny of women is to be wives and mothers; but we are told that there are thousands of women who are not and cannot be wives and mothers. in the older and more densely settled states of the union, there is an excess of females over males, and all cannot get husbands if they would. yet, we repeat, woman was created to be a wife and a mother, and the woman that is not fails of her special destiny. under the christian dispensation honorable provision has been made for that large class of women who, either from preference, or from any other cause, do not marry. virginity, which was regarded as a reproach, became an honor under the christian law. those women who do not wish, or cannot be wives and mothers in the natural order, may be both, in the spiritual order, if they will, and are properly educated for it. they can be wedded to the holy spirit, and be the mothers of minds and hearts. the holy virgins and devout widows who consecrated themselves to god, in or out of religious orders, are both, and fulfil in the spiritual order their proper destiny. we hold them in high honor, because they become mothers to the motherless, to the poor, to the forsaken, to the homeless. they instruct the ignorant, nurse the sick, help the helpless, tend the aged, catch the last breath of the dying, pray for the unbelieving and the cold-hearted, and elevate the moral tone of society, and shed a cheering radiance along the pathway of life. they have no need to be idle or useless. in a world of so much sin and sorrow, sickness and suffering, there is always work enough for them to do; it is on the poor and motherless, the destitute and the downtrodden, the sinful and the sorrowful, the aged and infirm, the ignorant and the neglected, that, under proper direction, they can lavish the wealth of their affections, the tenderness of their hearts, and the ardor of their charity, and find true joy and happiness in so doing, ample scope for woman's noblest ambition, and chances enough to acquire merit in the sight of heaven, and true glory, that will shine brighter and brighter forever. they thus are dear to god, dear to the church, and dear to christian society. they are to be envied, not pitied. it is only because you have lost faith in christ, faith in the holy catholic church, and have become gross in your minds, of "earth earthy," that you deplore the lot of the women who cannot, in the natural order, find husbands, and call them, contemptuously, "old maids"--a miserable relic of heathenism or protestantism, neither of which have anything to hold out to old maids. but jesus christ has provided for them better than you are able to understand. the father of our country, then, was right when he said, in his farewell address to the american nation, that religion and morality are the "props" of society, and the "pillars" of the state. let us, then, rest assured that the best way to check the torrent of infidelity and immorality, to avert impending evils, to prepare the golden age of our republic, is to infuse good morals by the most powerful of all means--_christian education_. footnotes: [f] prof. aggassiz. chapter xii. the denominational system alone satisfies the wants of all, and can save the republic. we live in a time of great activity and change, and intense worldliness. "men run to and fro and knowledge is increased." would that we could feel that there is an increase also in integrity and virtue, and respect for religion. we all know that it is not so. so far as we can form accurate ideas of the social and religious condition of men at any particular period in the world's history, we may doubt whether the words of the apostle st. paul, describing what shall come to pass in what he calls "the last days," ever touched any people so closely as they do those of our times and country. "men," he says, "shall be lovers of themselves, covetous, haughty, proud, blasphemous, disobedient to parents, ungrateful, wicked, without affection, without peace, slanderers, incontinent, unmerciful, without kindness, traitors, stubborn, puffed up, and lovers of pleasure, more than lovers of god." well may the apostle speak of such times as "dangerous times." when the moral atmosphere we breathe is so full of what the scriptures call "the spirit of this world," we can only hope to escape its corrupting influences by doing all in our power to diffuse christian principles among the rising generation, by means of truly christian schools. the arrangements can be made without disturbing the general system. it is this: "let the state aid, but not direct, a system of plain english education, confined to all those whose circumstances are limited, or who are left destitute, or orphans. let all religious denominations, when they desire it, have the privilege of conducting their own schools, subject only to general uniform inspection and examination on the part of the state, and have their proportion of the school-moneys." the wealthy classes will know how to take care of the education of their own children, as they do of their family affairs in other matters. the advocates of this "denominational system" yield to none in their endeavors to secure to _all_ the children within the state a good, solid, and practical education, according to the religious convictions and circumstances of all. this, they claim, is not, and cannot be furnished on the present plan. they do not, as falsely charged, desire to distract or divide, or introduce sectarianism into the public schools; on the contrary, they _wish_ to satisfy conscience by yielding _to all others what they claim for themselves_, and cannot help denouncing the present system as practically resulting in a form of sectarianism worse than any yet professed: to wit, "indifferentism." if the "denominational system" was adopted, it would satisfy and do justice to all, and, at the same time, excite such rivalry and competition among teachers as to advance education, whilst it diminishes its cost in the same ratio. we have seen that it costs about four times as much to give the miserable infidel instruction in the public schools, as it does to give a good christian education in the denominational schools. what possible objection, then, can there be to adopt the denominational, or separate system, when it costs four times less, and imparts, to say the least, as good an education to the greatest number of children? it is no argument to urge that schools would be sectarian. we have sectarian churches, and various shades and differences of belief, already. this would not alter one or the other a particle. the state cannot impose uniformity on churches; why force it on schools? indeed it is worse, inasmuch as this scholastic conformity or uniformity is against all religions, and in favor of infidelity, or the no-religious sect, if there be such a one. it discriminates against the believers, and is in favor of the unbelievers. but it is easy to see what the matter is. it is not religion these men fear so much as _competition_. one session's trial of the separate system would so clearly demonstrate to the public the economy and advantages of this plan, that the troop of paid teachers, officers, musicians, and others, who are fattening at the expense of a credulous people, would be exposed, and have to take their "carpet-bags" and tramp. however, i have no cause of quarrel with the employés, male or female, of the public schools. they do not elect themselves, nor make their salaries, and they are not to be blamed for taking them. if the clever gentleman who draws (in one state, at least) $ , for ten months, four hours' a day work, or the accomplished lady who gets $ , for the same time and labor, or the three musicians at $ , each, or the humble, but perhaps not less useful, corps of "school-sweepers" (janitors), who are rewarded with $ , . , or the officers (three), who pocket $ , . salary, and $ , . office-expenses!! are so handsomely rewarded, it is their good fortune, and not their fault. there is, doubtless, a great deal of human nature in their composition, as well as others. there is no earthly way of giving satisfaction to all, except by granting the denominational system, thereby leaving to all sects and denominations, as well as to those who do not range themselves under any specific form at all, to apply a fair proportion of the school-money. all those who prefer the present plan would have no change to make, and all those who desire the separate plan would have the right to select their own class-books and teachers; in other words, would have the interior management of their own schools. this is the way church matters are managed to the satisfaction of all. peoples' views and convictions on education are just as conscientious and distinct as on religion, and they have just as good a right to them. if any man denies this truth, i would like him to give his reasons. there is one other thing to be taken into consideration here: if, as is claimed, all, from the highest to the lowest, have a right to an education at the hands of the state, and if, as is admitted, all should be instructed in their moral and religious duties, if not by the state, at least by their parents and pastors, who will instruct the poor little orphans, the very class for whose benefit the public provide an education--who, i say, will instruct them in the way they should go? who will answer for these little "waifs of society"? they ask for bread, and the state gives them a stone; it has, with the best intentions in the world, no better to give them. these considerations have compelled most of the european states, as well as our neighbors--the canadians--to abandon the _godless system_, and establish separate schools, when asked to do so by the members of any denomination.[g] there _is no exception to this rule, except here!_ with all our boasted progress, we are behind all civilized nations in this important particular. now by adopting this fair method, the poor orphans and ragged children, who have the first and best claim of all, would be educated. as it is, it is a notorious fact, that as far as public schools are concerned, they are left out in the cold. this fact is capable of being demonstrated to any lady or gentleman who will visit the catholic orphanages and poor schools of any city. if any one doubts this, and does me the honor of putting himself at my disposal, i will show him or her thousands of such poor ragged little ones in one evening. now is it not drawing largely upon public credulity, as well as on the public purse, to ask for thousands for high schools, and normal schools, etc., to educate the children, in great part, of the rich, or, at best, comparatively well to do, and turn their backs on the poor fatherless orphans and the ragged children of the poor widow or laboring man? will anybody who has his eyesight doubt or deny this? if so, he can be convinced, any day of the week, by looking at the class and style of boys and girls who go to the upper public schools, and observing the boys and girls (several hundreds in number) who go to the poor schools of the sisters of mercy, or, in fact, to any other charity convent school. the bible, or religious education in schools, will ever come up to vex and torment the public, especially the catholic portion of the community, until the right of separate schools is granted. it is especially the catholics that do and must insist upon having separate schools, for it is the catholics that have always done all in their power to establish and maintain the republican form of government, and it is through the influence of catholicity alone that our republic can be maintained, and increased in power and glory. a body which has lost the principle of its animation becomes dust. hence it is an axiom that the change or perversion of the principles by which anything was produced, is the destruction of that very thing; if you can change or pervert the principles from which anything springs, you destroy it. for instance, one single foreign element introduced into the blood produces death; one false assumption admitted into science, destroys its certainty; one false principle admitted into morals, is fatal. now our american nation is departing from the principles which created their civilization, and upon which their grand republic is based. their civilization is becoming every day more and more material, and this material civilization, while more and more material, is becoming less moral; society is becoming less solid, less safe, less stable; individuals are becoming more anarchical, the intellect more licentious, the wills of men more stubborn, and this self-will expresses itself in their actions, so that it is true to say that, by means of godless education, the principles of christianity upon which the american republic was founded, and by which it has hitherto been preserved, have been rejected, and are being violated on every side. our republic, therefore is no more progressing, but is going back. about fifteen years ago a number of leading politicians and statesmen of america, of highest name and note, met together to consider the condition of the united states. it was before the war, when there were already many causes of anxiety. it was said that there was a universal and growing license of the individual will, and that law and government were powerless to restrain it; that if the will of the multitude became licentious, it would seriously threaten the public welfare and liberty of the country. the conclusion they came to was, that, _unless there could be found some power which could restrain the individual will_, this danger would at last _seriously menace the united states_. now it is easy to say what that power is. it is the power which created the christian society--it is the power which drew the world out of the darkness of heathenism, abolished slavery, restored woman to her true dignity--it is the power which established and maintained republican governments, and that power is the power of catholicity. whensoever this power is weakened or lost, immediately all political society decays. there will be a bright future for america if this power will be maintained and preserved. the catholic church is the grandest republic that was ever established. but it is a republic of a supernatural order. it has for its founder jesus christ, the son of god himself. he chose st. peter for its first president. this grand republic is divided, as it were, into as many states as there are dioceses; each diocese has a bishop--a true successor of the apostles--for governor, and each bishop has priests to assist him in the spiritual government of the diocese. the constitution of this republic was made by jesus christ. it cannot be changed or altered at all, either by the president, or by the votes of its citizens. st. peter and the other apostles, and their lawful successors, were bound in conscience, by jesus christ, to keep his constitution--his doctrine--and teach others to keep it, under pain of forfeiture of eternal life. the president and the governors of this republic--the pope and the catholic bishops--are not at liberty to govern its citizens, the catholics, as they please; they have to govern them according to the constitution--the doctrine of jesus christ. now almighty god governs men in accordance with the nature with which he has created them, as beings endowed with reason and free-will. god adapts his government to our rational and voluntary faculties, and governs us without violence to either, and by really satisfying both. the rulers of the catholic church have to do the same; they must govern men as freemen. hence the catholic church leaves to every people its own nationality, and to every state its own independence; she ameliorates the political and social order, only by infusing into the hearts of the people and their rulers the principles of justice and love, and a sense of accountability to god. the action of the church in political and social matters is indirect, not direct, and in strict accordance with the free-will of individuals and the autonomy of states. servile fear does not rank very high among catholic theologians. the church, when she can, resorts to coercive measures only to repress disorders in the public body. hence her rulers are called shepherds, not lords, and shepherds of their master's flock, not of their own, and are to feed, tend, protect the flock, and take care of its increase for him, with sole reference to his will, and his honor and glory. the catholic church proffers to all every assistance necessary for the attainment of the most heroic sanctity, but she forces no man to accept that assistance. catholics believe the doctrines of the church, because they believe the catholic church the church of god--they believe that jesus christ commissioned st. peter and the apostles, and their lawful successors, to teach all men in his name--to teach them infallibly and authoritatively his divine doctrine--they believe that this church is the medium through which god manifests his will and dispenses his grace to man, and through which alone we can hope for heaven; they believe that nothing can be more reasonable than to believe god at his word, and that, above all, they must seek the kingdom of god and secure their eternal salvation. being governed by the church, as freemen, in the spirit of a republican government, and enjoying, as they do, the freedom of the children of god, catholics feel nowhere more at home than under a republican form of government. if a great pope could say in truth that he was nowhere more pope than in america, every catholic can, and does, also, say in truth, "nowhere can i be a better christian than in the united states." hence it is that catholics are very generally attached to the republican institutions of the country--no class of our citizens more so--and would defend them at the sacrifice of their lives. catholics far more readily adjust themselves to our institutions than non-catholics, and among catholics it must be observed that _they_ succeed best who best understand and best practise their religion. they who are least truly american, and yield most to demagogues, are those who have very little of catholicity, except the accident of being born of catholic parents, who had them baptized in infancy. practical catholics are the best republicans! if we consult history, we find that they were always foremost in establishing and maintaining the republican form of government. who originated all the free principles which lie at the basis of our own noble constitution? who gave us trial by jury, _habeas corpus_, stationary courts, and the principle--for which we fought and conquered in our revolutionary struggle against protestant england--that taxes are not to be levied without the free consent of those who pay them? all these cardinal elements of free government date back to the good old catholic times, in the middle ages--some three hundred years before the dawn of the reformation! our catholic forefathers gave them all to us. again, we are indebted to catholics for all the republics which ever existed in christian times, down to the year : for those of switzerland, venice, genoa, andorra, san marino, and a host of minor free commonwealths, which sprang up in the "dark ages." some of these republics still exist, proud monuments and unanswerable evidences of catholic devotion to freedom. they are acknowledged by protestants, no less than by catholics. i subjoin the testimony of an able writer in the new york _tribune_, believed to be bayard taylor. this distinguished traveller--a staunch protestant--appeals to history, and speaks from personal observation. he writes: "truth compels us to add that the oldest republic now existing is that of san marino, not only catholic, but wholly surrounded by the especial dominion of the popes, who might have crushed it like an egg-shell at any time these last thousand years--but they didn't. the only republic we ever travelled in besides our own is switzerland, half of its cantons or states entirely catholic, yet never, that we have heard of, unfaithful to the cause of freedom. we never heard the catholics of hungary accused of backwardness in the late glorious struggle of their country for freedom, though its leaders were protestants, fighting against a leading catholic power avowedly in favor of religious as well as civil liberty. and chivalric, unhappy poland, almost wholly catholic, has made as gallant struggles for freedom as any other nation; while of the three despotisms that crushed her, but one was catholic." let us bring the subject home to our own times and country. who, i would ask, first reared in triumph the broad banner of universal freedom on this north american continent? who first proclaimed in this new world a truth too wide and expansive to enter into the head of, or to be comprehended by, a narrow-minded bigot--a truth that every man should be free to worship god according to the dictates of his conscience? who _first_ proclaimed, on this broad continent, the glorious principles of universal freedom? read bancroft, read goodrich, read frost, read every protestant historian of our country, and you will see there inscribed, on the historic page, a _fact_ which reflects immortal honor on our american catholic ancestry--that lord baltimore and his catholic colonists of maryland were the _first_ to proclaim universal liberty, civil and religious; the _first_ to announce, as the basis of their legislation, the great and noble principle that no man's faith and conscience should be a bar to his holding any office, or enjoying any _civil privilege_ of the community. what american can forget the names of rochambeau, de grasse, de kalb, pulaski, la fayette, kosciusko? without the aid of these noble catholic heroes, and of the brave troops whom they led on to victory, would we have succeeded at all in our great revolutionary contest? men of the clearest heads, and of the greatest political forecast, living at that time, thought not; at least they deemed the result exceedingly doubtful. and during the whole war of the revolution, who ever heard of a catholic coward, or of a catholic traitor? when the protestant general, gates, fled from the battle-field of camden with the protestant militia of north carolina and virginia, who but catholics stood firm at their posts, and fought and died with the brave old catholic hero, de kalb? the veteran who, when others ingloriously fled, seized his good sword, and cried out to the brave old maryland and pennsylvania lines, "stand firm, for i am too old to fly!" who ever heard of a catholic arnold? and who has not heard of the brave irish and german soldiers who, at a somewhat later period, mainly composed the invincible army of the impetuous "mad anthony" wayne, and constituted the great bulwark of our defence against the savage invasions which threatened our whole northwestern frontier with devastation and ruin? all these facts, and many more of a similar kind which might be alleged, cannot have passed away, as yet, from the memory of our american citizens. americans cannot have forgotten, as yet, that the man who perilled most in signing the declaration of independence was a roman catholic, and that when charles carroll, of carrolton, put his name to that instrument, benjamin franklin observed, "there goes a cool million in support of the cause!" and when our energies were exhausted, and the stoutest hearts entertained the most gloomy forebodings as to the final issue, catholic france stepped gallantly forth to the rescue of our infant freedom, almost crushed by an overwhelming english tyranny! catholic spain also subsequently lent us her aid against england. many of our most sagacious statesmen have believed that, but for this timely aid, our declaration of independence could scarcely have been made good. these facts, which are but a few of those which might be adduced, prove conclusively that catholicity is still what she was in the middle ages--the steadfast friend and support of free institutions. the great roots of all the evils that press upon society, and make man unhappy, are-- "the ignorance of the mind, and the depravity of the will." hence he who wishes to civilize the world, and thus assist in executing the plans of god's providence, must remove these two great roots of evil by imparting to the mind infallibly the light of truth, and by laying down for the will authoritatively the unchangeable principles of morality. it is the catholic church that has accomplished in society this twofold task, by means of education. in the pagan world, education was an edifice built up on the principles of slavery. the motto was, "odi profanum vulgus et arceo." education was the privilege of the aristocracy. the great mass of people was studiously kept in ignorance of the treasures of the mind. this state of things was done away with by the roman catholic church, when she established the monastic institutions of the west. the whole of europe was soon covered with schools, not only for the wealthy, but for the poorest even of the poor. yes, education was systematized, and an emulation was created for learning, such as the world had never seen before. italy, germany, france, england, and spain, had their universities; but side by side with these, their colleges, gymnasiums, parish and village schools, as numerous as the churches and monasteries, which the efforts of the holy see had scattered with lavish hand over the length and breadth of the land. and where was the source of all this light? i answer, at _rome_. for when the barbarian hordes poured down upon europe from the caspian mountains, it was the popes who saved civilization. they collected, in the vatican, the manuscripts of the ancient authors, gathered from all parts of the earth at enormous expense. the barbarians, who destroyed everything by fire and sword, had already advanced as far as rome. attila, who called himself the scourge of god, stood before its walls; there was no emperor, no praetorian guard, no legions present to save the ancient capital of the world. but there was a pope--leo i. and leo went forth, and by entreaties, and threats of god's displeasure, induced the dreaded king of the huns to retire. scarcely had attila retired, before genseric, king of the vandals, made his appearance, invited by eudoxia, the empress, to the plunder of rome. leo met him, and obtained from him the lives and the honor of the romans, and the sparing of the public monuments which adorned the city in such numbers. thus leo the great saved europe from barbarism. to the name of leo, i might add those of gregory i., sylvester ii., gregory xiii., benedict xiv., julius iii., paul iii., leo x., clement viii., john xx., and a host of others, who must be looked upon as the preservers of science and the arts, even amid the very fearful torrent of barbarism that was spreading itself, like an inundation, over the whole of europe. the principle of the catholic church has ever been this: "by the knowledge of divine things, and the guidance of an infallible teacher, the human mind must gain certainty in regard to the sublimest problems, the great questions of life: by them the origin, the end, the norm and limit of man's activity must be made known, for then alone can he venture fearlessly upon the sphere of human efforts, and human developments, and human science." and, truly, never has science gained the ascendancy outside of the church that it has always held in the church. and what i say of science i say also of the arts. i say it of architecture, of sculpture, and of painting. i need only point to the basilica of peter, to the museums and libraries of rome. it is to rome the youthful artist always turns his steps, in order to drink in, at the monuments of art and of science, the genius and inspiration he seeks for in vain in his own country. he feels, only too keenly, that railroads and telegraphs, steamships and power-looms, banking-houses and stock companies, though good and useful institutions, are not the mothers of genius, nor the schools of inspiration; and therefore he leaves his country, and goes to rome, and there feasts on the fruits gathered by the hands of st. peter's successors, and then returns home with a name which will live for ages in the memory of those who have learned to appreciate the true and the beautiful. it is thus that the catholic church has accomplished the great work of enlightening society. she has shed the light of faith over the east and the west, over the north and the south, and with the faith she has established the principles of true science on their natural bases. she has imparted education to the masses, wherever she was left free to adopt her own, and untrammelled by civil interference. she has fostered and protected the arts and the sciences, and to-day, if all the libraries, and all the museums, and all the galleries of art in the world were destroyed, rome alone would possess quite enough to supply the want, as it did in former ages, when others supplied themselves by plundering rome. the depravity of man shows itself in the constant endeavor to shake off the restraint placed by law and duty upon his will; and to this we must ascribe the licentiousness which has at all times afflicted society. passion acknowledges no law, and spares neither rights nor conventions; where it has the power, it exercises it to the advantage of self, and to the detriment of social order. the church is by its very constitution catholic, and hence looks upon all men as brothers of the same family. she acknowledges not the natural right of one man over another, and hence her catholicity lays a heavy restraint upon all the efforts of self-love, and curbs with a mighty hand the temerity of those who would destroy the harmony of life implied in the idea of catholicity. one of the first principles of all social happiness is, that before the law of nature, and before the face of god, all men are equal. this principle is based on the unity of the human race, the origin of all men from one common father. if we study the history of paganism, we find that all heathen nations overturned this great principle, since we find among all heathen nations the evil of _slavery_. prior to the coming of christ, the great majority of men were looked upon as a higher development of the animal, as animated instruments which might be bought and sold, given away and pawned; which might be tormented, maltreated, or murdered; as beings, in a word, for whom the idea of right, duty, pity, mercy, and law had no existence. who can read, without a feeling of intense horror, the accounts left us of the treatment of their slaves by the romans? there was no law that could restrain in the least the wantonness, the cruelty, the licentious excess of the master, who, as master, possessed the absolute right to do with his slaves whatsoever he pleased. to remove this stain of slavery has ever been the aim of the catholic church. "since the saviour and creator of the world," says pope gregory i., in his celebrated decree, "wished to become man, in order, by grace and liberty, to break the chains of our slavery, it is right and good to bestow again upon man, whom nature has permitted to be born free, but whom the law of nations has brought under the yoke of slavery, the blessing of their original liberty." through all the middle ages--called by protestants the _dark ages of the world_--the echo of these words of gregory i. is heard; and in the thirteenth century pope pius ii. could say, "thanks to god, and the apostolic see, the yoke of slavery does no longer disgrace any european nation." since then slavery was again introduced into africa, and the newly-discovered regions of america, and again the popes raised their voices in the interests of liberty,--from pius ii. to pius vii., who, even at the time napoleon had robbed him of his liberty, and held him captive in a foreign land, became the defender of the negro, to gregory xvi., who, on the third of november, , insisted in a special bull on the abolition of the slave trade, and who spoke in a strain as if he had lived and sat side by side with gregory i., thirteen hundred years before. but here let us observe, that not only the vindication of liberty for all, not only the abolition of slavery, but the very mode of action followed in this matter by the popes, has gained for them immortal honor, and the esteem of all good men. when the church abolished slavery in any country where it existed, the popes did not compel masters, by harshness or threats, to manumit their slaves; they did not bring into action the base intrigues, the low chicanery, the canting hypocrisy of modern statesmen; they did not raise armies, and send them into the lands of their masters to burn and to pillage, to lay waste and to destroy; they did not slaughter, by their schemes, over a million of free men and another million of slaves; they did not make widows and orphans without numbers; they did not impoverish the land, and lay upon their subjects burdens which would crush them into very dust. nothing of all this. that is not the way in which the church abolished slavery. the popes sent bishops and priests into those countries where slavery existed, to enlighten the minds of the masters, and convince them that slaves were men, and consequently had souls, like other people, too. the popes, bishops and priests infused into the hearts of masters a deep love for jesus christ, and consequently a deep love for souls. the popes, bishops and priests taught masters to look upon their slaves as created by the same god, redeemed by the same jesus christ, destined for the same glory. the consequence was, that the relations of slave and master became the relations of brother to brother; the master began to love his slave, and to ameliorate his condition, till at last, forced by his own acknowledged principles, he granted to him his liberty. thus it was that slavery was abolished by the preaching of the popes, bishops and priests. the great barrier to all the healthy, permanent, and free development of nations was thus broken down; the blessings, the privileges of society, were made equally attainable by the masses, and ceased to be the special monopoly of a few, who, for the most part, had nothing to recommend them except their wealth. if any doubt remain as to the favorable influence of catholicity on civil liberty, it would be dispelled by the express teaching of the theologians, writing in accordance with the principles and the spirit of the church. not to extend this point too much, i will confine myself to the authority of the great st. thomas aquinas, who, as a theologian, has perhaps had greater weight in the catholic church than any other man. his testimony may also show us what were the general sentiments of the school-men in the thirteenth century, when he wrote. speaking of the origin of civil power and the objects of law, he lays down these principles: "the law, strictly speaking, is directed primarily and principally to the common good; and to decree anything for the common benefit _belongs either to the whole body of the people, or to some one acting in their place_." (summa theologiæ, i. , i. quæst. art. iii., resp.) he pronounces the following opinion as to the best form of government: "wherefore the choice of rulers in any state or kingdom is best, when one is _chosen for his merit to preside over all_, and under him are other rulers _chosen for their merit; and the government belongs to all, because the rulers may be chosen from any class of society; and the choice is made by all_." (ibid, quæst. cv. art. .) one would think that he is hearing a democrat of the modern stamp, and yet it is a monk of the dark ages! many other testimonies of similar import might be cited, but these will suffice. and what has protestantism done for human freedom? the reformation dawned on the world in the year . what did it do for the cause of freedom from that date down to --when our republic arose? did it strike one blow for liberty during these two centuries and a half? did it originate one republican principle, or found one solitary republic? not one. in germany, where it had full sway, it ruthlessly trampled in the dust all the noble franchises of the catholic middle ages; it established political despotism everywhere; it united church and state; in a word, it brought about that very state of things which continues to exist, with but slight amelioration, even down to the present day. in england, it did the same; it broke down the bulwarks of the british constitution, derived from the catholic magna charta; it set at naught popular rights, and gave to the king or queen unlimited power in church and state; and it required a bloody struggle and a revolution, one hundred and fifty years afterwards, to restore to something of their former integrity the old chartered rights of the british people. protestantism has always boasted much, but it has really done little for the cause of human freedom. as to the liberties which we enjoy in our country, we cheerfully award to our protestant fellow-citizens the praise which is so justly due them for _their_ share in the glorious struggle. but as to the power of protestantism to maintain the republic by checking the great evils that have already sapped its foundations, it has not any at all. how could protestantism check infidelity, since it leads to it? there are two causes of infidelity that have existed from the beginning of the world. but about three centuries ago protestantism opened a very wide avenue to infidelity. protestantism introduced the principle, "there is no divinely-commissioned authority to teach infallibly." now infidelity exists in this principle of protestantism, as the oak exists in the acorn, as the consequence is in the premise. on the claim of private judgment, protestants reject the authority of st. peter, the vicar of christ. the calvinists, going, as they do, by the same principle, reject the real presence of our lord in the blessed sacrament. the socinians, following the same principle, reject, to-day, the divinity of christ, and therefore abjure christianity, and fall back into utter incredulity. the german and french philosophers, rationalists, and pantheists, of all degrees, do not even stop at that; they go farther, and deny the existence of a god creator, and all by the privilege of free and private judgment. the individual reason taking, as it does, the place of faith, the protestant, whether he believes it or not, is an infidel in germ, and the infidel is a protestant in full bloom; in other words, infidelity is nothing but protestantism in the highest degree. hence it is that edgar quinet, a great herald of protestantism, is right in styling the protestant sects _the thousand gates open to get out of christianity_. no wonder, then, that thousands of protestants have ended, and continue to end, in framing their formula of faith thus: "i believe in nothing." but let us bring this subject home to our country. the disastrous issue of the revolutionary movements which convulsed all europe in - , has thrown upon our shores masses of foreign political refugees, most of whom are infidels in religion, and red republicans, or destructionists of all social order in politics. they are men of desperate character and fortune--outlaws from society, with the brand of infidelity upon their brow. it is by this fast-increasing class of men that "young america" is attracted, and learn from them their anarchical principles. the greatest, and, in fact, the only real danger to the permanency of our republican institutions, is to be apprehended from this class of infidels in our community. now what has contributed most towards the enormous increase of these enemies of our republic? it is the godless education given in the public schools. and who established these schools, and who robbed the money from the people to support them--to make this source of infidelity flow so abundantly all over the land? you find the answer to this question in chapter iii. protestantism was a separation from the source and current of the divine-human life which exists in the catholic church, and which redeems and saves the world; and protestants are therefore thrown back upon nature, and able to live only the natural life of the race--saving the portion of christian life they brought away with them at the time of separation, and which, as not renewed from its source, must, in time, be exhausted. it is therefore evident that protestantism cannot fight infidelity. it is only the catholic church that can take open ground against these men so hostile to our country, and she feels honored by their bitter hostility. it could not be otherwise. her principles are eminently conservative in all questions of religion and of civil policy; theirs are radical and destructive in both. theirs is the old war of satan against christ; of the sons of belial against the keepers of the law; of false and anti-social against true and rational liberty--"the liberty of the glory of the children of god." let these enemies of the country unfold their banners of "infidelity," "socialism," "free thought," "scepticism," "communism," "no god," "no christ," "no pope," "no church," and a thousand others; let them grind their teeth, let them froth and foam at the mouth, let them tremble with rage, let them shake their heads with an air of majesty, as if they would say to the church, "we bury you to-morrow, we write your epitaph and chant your de profundis; our league is mighty, our forces are multitudinous, our weapons are powerful, our bravery is desperate." the catholic church calmly answers, "i know you hate me because i am the palladium of truth and of public and private morality; i am the root and bond of charity and faith; i love justice and hate iniquity. but it is for this very reason that i will remain forever; for truth and justice being, in the end, always victorious, i will not cease to bless and to triumph. all the works of the earth have perished; time has obliterated them. but i remain, because christ remains, and i will endure until i pass from my earthly exile to my country in heaven. "human theories and systems have flitted across my path like birds of night, but they have vanished; numberless sects have, like so many waves, dashed themselves to froth against me, this rock, or, recoiling, have been lost in the vast ocean of forgetfulness. kingdoms and empires that once existed in inimitable worldly grandeur are no more; dynasties have died out, and have been replaced by others. "thrones and sceptres and crowns have withstood me; but, immutable, like god, who laid my foundation, i am the firm, unshaken centre round which the weal and woe of nations move--weal if they adhere to it--woe if they separate from it. if the world takes from me the cross of gold, i will bless the world with one of wood. "tear down my banner of the cross if you can! touch a single fold of it if you dare! sound your battle-cry; rally your hosts--marshal your ranks! storm these lofty summits. they never yet have been surrendered. the flag that waves above them has never trailed in defeat, and the hearts that guard that flag have never flinched before the foe, and the bravery that shoots through every film of these hearts has never faltered. on with the conflict! let it rage! our line of battle reaches back to calvary. that line has never been broken by wildest onset! these soldiers have never fled! we are the sons of veterans who have marched through a campaign of eighteen hundred years--marched and never halted--marched and always triumphed! we belong to the old imperial guard of faith! we never yet have met a waterloo! "i am a queen--but a warrior-queen. you will never find me on a throne here below. banner in hand, i am ever in the midst of battle. i have never granted a day of truce to my enemies. war against all who war against god--war against all who war against christ--war against all who war against man--war against all who war against truth--this is my destiny. "peace here below, i have never known. rest here below, i have never found. i am always on the march--my banner ever unfurled--my war-cry ever sounding! "therefore, in the storm and shock of my battle of to-day with my enemies, my soldier-children fear not. around my old chieftain they rally. what though some may desert and leave the lines? the lines close up again--and the deserters are not missed. what though a judas iscariot may betray? a brave matthias takes his place. what though a few of craven spirit may flee? the ranks they left are filled by brave men and true. "from the hill of calvary to the hill of the vatican, from peter before the council to pius before the sardinian, my history has been one long, uninterrupted battle--and my battle one long and glorious victory." we cannot but smile when we hear infidels talk of the downfall of the church. what could hell and its agents do more than they have already done for her destruction? they have employed tortures for the body, but they could not reach the spirit; they have tried heresy, or the denial of revealed truth, to such an extent that we cannot see room for any new heresy; they have, by the hand of schism, torn whole countries from the unity of the church; but what she lost on one side of the globe, she gained tenfold on the other. all these have ignominiously failed to verify the prophecies of hell, that "the church shall fall." look, for instance, at the tremendous effort of the so-called glorious reformation, together with its twin sister--the unbelief of the nineteenth century. whole legions of church reformers, together with armies of philosophers armed with negation, and a thousand and one systems of paganism, rushed on against the chair of peter, and swore that the papacy would fall, and with it the whole church. three hundred years are over, and the catholic church is still alive, and, to all appearances, more vigorous than ever. the nations have proved that they can get along very well without reformers, but not without the catholic church. men are foolish enough to dream of the destruction of the papacy. napoleon tried the game, and, from the summit of his empire, walked into exile, whilst his victim, pius vii., leaving his prison, entered rome in triumph. a great statesman of france said, not long ago, that those who tried to swallow the papacy, and with it the whole church, always died of indigestion. let the enemies of the catholic church beware! if they dash their heads against this rock, they must not be astonished to find them broken. and what power has protestantism to check the national crime--the murder of helpless innocents? everybody knows, who knows anything about the subject, that among the roman catholic population this crime is hardly known. the reason for the rare occurrence of this crime among catholics, is their religion. the doctrine of the catholic church, her canons, her pontifical constitutions, her theologians, without exception, teach, and always have taught, that even the intention of preventing or destroying human life, at any period from the first instant of conception, is a heinous crime, equal at least in guilt to the crime of murder. now as to the power of protestantism to check this crime, dr. storer, the distinguished protestant physician of boston, says: "we are compelled to admit that _protestantism_ has failed to check the increase of criminal abortion." (criminal abortion, p. .) "there can be no doubt that the romish ordinance, flanked, on the one hand, by the confessional, and by denouncement and excommunications on the other, has saved to the world _thousands of infant lives_." (ibid. p. .) "during the ten years which have passed since the preceding sentence was written, we have had ample verification of its truth. _several hundreds of protestant women_ have personally acknowledged to us their guilt, against whom only seven catholics, and of these we found, upon further inquiry, that all but two were only nominally so, not going to the confession."--(ibid.) it is, then, not protestantism, it is the catholic church alone that has the power to oppose herself to the propagation of so heinous a crime, and prevent her children from shedding the blood of helpless innocents. the third great evil which has made the most fearful inroad among us, so as already to have extorted many a warning cry, is _the contempt of the marriage tie_. the family, as i have said in a previous chapter, is the groundwork of civil society. if the family be christian, the state will also be christian; and if the family be corrupt, the state cannot remain long untarnished. it is the holy sacrament of marriage that gives sanctity to the family, and strength to civil society. to reject that sacrament is to sow the seeds of revolution. revolution in the family begets revolution in the state. when a government, which, by its very nature, should restrain immorality, allows the separation of man and wife, it sanctions the right of revolution in the family, and sooner or later that government will feel the dire effects of its own corrupt doctrine. now it is a matter of fact that the contempt of the marriage tie, so prevalent in our country, is owing to protestantism. if any one wishes to learn how the continental reformers regarded the sacrament of matrimony, let him read luther's sermon on marriage (if he can do so without a blush), or, better still, the dogmatical judgment of luther, melanchthon, bucer, and the rest, giving permission! to the innocent landgrave of hesse to commit bigamy, pure and simple. it is the catholic church alone, again, that has always regarded the christian marriage as the corner-stone of society; and at that corner-stone have the popes stood guard for eighteen centuries, by insisting that christian marriage is one, holy, and indissoluble. woman, weak and unprotected, has, as the history of the church abundantly proves, found at rome that guaranty which was refused her by him who had sworn at the altar of god to love her and to cherish her till death. whilst, in the nations whom the reformation of the sixteenth century tore from the bosom of the church, the sacred laws of matrimony are trampled in the dust, whilst the statistics of these nations hold up to the world the sad spectacle of divorces as numerous as marriages, of separations of husband from wife, and wife from husband, for the most trivial causes, thus granting to lust the widest margin of license, and legalizing concubinage and adultery; whilst the nineteenth century records in its annals the existence of a community of licentious polygamists within the borders of one of the most civilized countries of the earth, we must yet see the decree emanating from rome that would permit even a beggar to repudiate his lawful wife, in order to give his affections to an adulteress. the female portion of our race would always have sunk back into a new slavery, had not the popes entered the breach for the protection of the unity, the sanctity, the indissolubility of matrimony. in the midst of the barbarous ages, during which the conqueror and warrior swayed the sceptre of empire, and kings and petty tyrants acknowledged no other right but that of force, it was the popes that opposed their authority, like a wall of brass, to the sensuality and the passions of the mighty ones of the earth, and stood forth as the protectors of innocence and outraged virtue, as the champions of the rights of women, against the wanton excesses of tyrannical husbands, by enforcing, in their full severity, the laws of christian marriage. if christian europe is not covered with harems, if polygamy has never gained a foothold in europe, if, with the indissolubility and sanctity of matrimony, the palladium of european civilization has been saved from destruction, it is all owing to the popes. "if the popes"--says the protestant von müller--"if the popes could hold up no other merit than that which they gained by protecting monogamy against the brutal lusts of those in power, notwithstanding bribes, threats, and persecutions, that alone would render them immortal for all future ages." and how had they to battle till they had gained this merit? what sufferings had they to endure, what trials to undergo? when king lothair, in the ninth century, repudiated his lawful wife in order to live with a concubine, pope nicholas i. at once took upon himself the defence of the rights and of the honor of the unhappy wife. all the arts of an intriguing policy were plied, but nicholas remained unshaken; threats were used, but nicholas remained firm. at last the king's brother, louis ii., appears with an army before the walls of rome, in order to compel the pope to yield. it is useless--nicholas swerves not from the line of duty. rome is besieged; the priests and people are maltreated and plundered; sanctuaries are desecrated; the cross is torn down and trampled under foot, and, in the midst of these scenes of blood and sacrilege, nicholas flies to the church of st. peter; there he is besieged by the army of the emperor for two days and two nights; left without food or drink, he is willing to die of starvation on the tomb of st. peter, rather than yield to a brutal tyrant, and sacrifice the sanctity of christian marriage, the law of life of christian society. and the perseverance of nicholas i. was crowned with victory. he had to contend against a licentious king, who was tired of restraint; against an emperor, who, with an army at his heels, came to enforce his brother's unjust demands; against two councils of venal bishops, the one at metz, the other at aix-la-chapelle, who had sanctioned the scandals of the adulterous monarch. yet, with all this opposition, and the suffering it cost him, the pope succeeded in procuring the acknowledgment of the rights of an injured woman. and during succeeding ages we find gregory v. carrying on a similar combat against king robert, and urban ii. against king philip of france. in the thirteenth century, philip augustus, mightier than his predecessors, set to work all the levers of power, in order to move the pope to divorce him from his wife ingelburgis. hear the noble answer of the great innocent iii.: "since, by the grace of god, we have the firm and unshaken will never to separate ourselves from justice and truth, neither moved by petitions, nor bribed by presents, neither induced by love, nor intimidated by hate, we will continue to go on in the royal path, turning neither to the right nor to the left; and we judge without any respect to persons, since god himself does not respect persons." after the death of his first wife, isabella, philip augustus wished to gain the favor of denmark by marrying ingelburgis. the union had hardly been solemnized, when he wished to be divorced from her. a council of venal bishops assembled at compiegne, and annulled his lawful marriage. the queen, poor woman, was summoned before her judges, and the sentence was read and translated to her. she could not speak the language of france, so her only cry was "rome!" and rome heard her cry of distress, and came to her rescue. innocent iii. needed the alliance of france in the troubles in which he was engaged with germany; innocent iii. needed the assistance of france for the crusade; yet innocent iii. sent peter of capua as legate to france; a council is convoked by the legate of the pope; philip refuses to appear, in spite of the summons, and the whole of the kingdom of philip is placed under interdict. philip's rage knows no bounds: bishops are banished, his lawful wife is imprisoned, and the king vents his rage on the clergy of france. the barons, at last, appeal against philip to the sword. the king complains to the pope of the harshness of the legate, and when innocent only confirms the sentence of the legate, the king exclaims, "happy saladin; he had no pope!" yet the king was forced to obey. when he asked the barons assembled in council, "what must i do?" their answer was: "obey the pope; put away agnes and restore ingelburgis." and, thanks to the severity of innocent iii., philip repudiated the concubine, and restored ingelburgis to her rights, as wife and queen. hear what the protestant hurter says, in his life of innocent: "if christianity has not been thrown aside, as a worthless creed, into some isolated corner of the world; if it has not, like the sects of india, been reduced to a mere theory; if its european vitality has outlived the voluptuous effeminacy of the east, it is due to the watchful severity of the roman pontiffs--to their increasing care to maintain the principles of authority in the church." as often as we look to england, that land of perfidy and deceit, we are reminded of the words of innocent iii. to philip augustus. we see clement using them as his principles in his conduct towards the royal brute henry viii. catherine of aragon, the lawful wife of henry, had been repudiated by her disgraceful husband, and it was again to rome she appealed for protection. clement remonstrates with henry. the monarch calls the pope hard names. clement repeats, "thou shalt not commit adultery!" henry threatens to tear england from the church; he does it; still clement insists, "thou shalt not commit adultery!" fisher and more go to bleed out their life at tyburn; still the pope repeats, "thou shalt not commit adultery!" henry had two wives at the same time, and, after _them_, took a new wife, and killed off his old wife, whenever his beastly passion prompted. the enslavement of the people followed. henry made himself head of the church, and bade the english nation recognize him as such. the penalty of disobeying the tyrant was death. the mass of the english yielded. this adulterous beast--this ferocious monster--they accepted as their pope; and their children, following in their steps, accepted his bastard brood--of either sex--as their popes; while the only and true pope, the successor of st. peter, the vicar of jesus christ, was rejected by them. to such depths of servility and degradation do apostate nations fall. the firmness of the pope cost england's loss to the church. it cost the pope bitter tears, and he prayed to heaven not to visit on the people of england the crimes of the despot; he prayed for the conversion of the nation; but sacrifice the sanctity, the indissolubility of matrimony, that he could never do--abandon helpless women to the brutality of men who were tired of the restraints of morality--no, that the pope could never permit. if the court, if the palace of the domestic hearth refused a shelter, rome was always open, a refuge to injured and downtrodden innocence. "one must obey god more than man." this has ever been the language of the popes, whenever there was question of defending the laws of god against the powers of the earth; and in thus defending the laws of god, they protected against outrage the personal dignity, the moral liberty and the intellectual freedom of man. "because there was a pope," says a protestant historian, "there could not any longer be a tiberius in europe, and the direction of the religious and spiritual welfare of man was withdrawn from the hands of royalty." because there were popes, the will of cæsar could not any longer be substituted for law; for the popes made the gospel the law-book of the nations. now the gospel teaches that all power comes from god; that from god the sovereign derives his power, to rule in justice and equity for the welfare of his subjects, and that the subjects are bound to obey their rules, for conscience sake. hence, adopting the great principal of action, the popes have at all times condemned the spirit of rebellion, and have anathematized those principles, those factions, those organizations whose aim is, and has always been, to overturn lawful authority and to substitute anarchy in the place of the harmony of legitimate government. in conformity with this rule of action the popes clement xii., benedict xiv., pius vii., leo xii., gregory xvi., and pius ix. have condemned secret societies, whose object is the overthrow of civil and religious government. but at the same time that the popes required from subjects obedience to their lawful governments, they have ever defended subjects against the abuse of power, or against the tyranny of unjust rulers. in pagan times it had the appearance as if the people existed for the sovereign, and not the sovereign for the people; but in the days and in the countries where the spiritual supremacy of the pope was acknowledged by rulers, the pagan idea had necessarily to disappear, for the popes gave the princes to understand that they existed for the people, and not the people for them. viewed in this light, what a magnificent spectacle does the catholic church present to our admiration, and how does the honest heart of downtrodden nationality yearn that these happy days may once more return! taken mostly from the middle classes, sometimes even from the most humble ranks of society, the popes ascended the chair of peter; and these men, who had been the sons of artisans and mechanics, but who had, by their virtue and talent, gained a merit which neither wealth nor a noble pedigree could bestow, became the arbiters between nation and nation, between prince and people, always prepared to weld together the chain of broken friendship, and to protect, by their power and authority, the rights of subjects oppressed by tyrannical rulers. it was indeed a blessing for europe that nicholas i. could curb, with an iron hand, the tyranny of kings and nobles. it was indeed a blessing, not for europe alone, but for the world, that there lived a genius on earth in the person of gregory vii., who knew how to protect the saxons against the wanton lawlessness of henry, king of germany, a monster who ground his subjects remorselessly in the dust, and respected neither the sanctity of virginity nor the sacredness of marriage; neither the rights of the church, nor those of the state; whose very existence seemed to have no other aim but that of the leech, to draw out the blood from the hearts of his unhappy subjects. what would have become of germany had there not been a power superior to that of this godless prince? it was gregory vii. who hurled him from his throne, and restored to the noble saxons and thuringians their independence, not by the power of the sword, but by the scathing power of his anathema. the same i may say of boniface viii., and of innocent iii. there was, happily for europe, a court of appeal, to which even monarchs were forced to bow; and that court was rome. it was to rome that the nations appealed, when their independence was at stake or their rights were trampled upon. and rome was never deaf to the cry of distress, whether it came from germany or from france, from england or from poland, from spain or from the shores of the bosphorus. and when the liberty of a nation was on the verge of destruction, and when emperors, and kings, and barons rode rough-shod over the rights, natural and vested, of their subjects, forgetting the sacred trust confided to them, became tyrants, when neither prosperity nor undivided liberty were secure from that rapacious grasp; when even the rights of conscience were set aside with impunity; it was the popes of rome who buckled on the armor of justice, and humbled the pride of princes--even if, as a consequence, they had to say, with a gregory vii., "dilexi justitiam et odivi iniquitatem; ideo morior in exilio"--"i die in exile because i have loved justice and hated iniquity." the influence of catholicity tends strongly to break down all barriers of separate nationalities, and to bring about a brotherhood of citizens, in which the love of our common country and of one another would absorb every sectional feeling. catholicity is of no nation, of no language, of no people; she knows no geographical bounds; she breaks down all the walls of separation between race and race, and she looks alike upon every people, and tribe, and caste. her views are as enlarged as the territory which she inhabits; and this is as wide as the world. jew and gentile, greek and barbarian, irish, german, french, english, and american, are all alike to her. the evident tendency of this principle is to level all sectional feelings and local prejudices, by enlarging the views of mankind, and thus to bring about harmony in society, based upon mutual forbearance and charity. and, in fact, so far as the influence of the catholic church could be brought to bear upon the anomalous condition of society in america, it has been exercised for securing the desirable result of causing all its heterogeneous elements to be merged in the one variegated but homogeneous nationality. protestantism isolates and divides; catholicity brings together and unites. the catholic church is a grand fact in history--a fact so great that there would be no history without it--a fact permanent, repeating itself perpetually, entering into the concerns of all the nations on the face of the earth, appearing again and again on the records of time, and benefiting, perceived or unperceived, directly or indirectly, socially, morally, and supernaturally, every individual who forms part of the great organism of human society. around this church human society moves like a wheel around its axle; it is on this church that society depends for its support, its life, its energy, like the planetary system on the sun. show me an age, a country, a nation deprived of the influence of catholicity, and i will show you an age, a country, a nation without morals, without virtue. yes, if "religion and science, liberty and justice, principle and right," are not empty sounds--if they have a meaning--they owe their energetic existence in the world to the catholic church. such is the power and such is the influence of catholicity. yet i do not pretend that our catholic population is perfect, or that in them you will find no shortcomings, nothing to be censured or regretted. certainly in our cities and large towns may be found, i am sorry to say, many so-called liberal or _nominal_ catholics, who are no credit to their religion, to the land of their birth, or to that of their adoption. subjected at home, as they were, to the restraints imposed by protestant or quasi-protestant governments, they feel, on coming here, that they are loosed from all restraints, and forgetting the obedience they owe to their pastors, to the prelates whom the holy ghost has placed over them, they become insubordinate, and live more as non-catholics than as catholics. the children of these are, to a great extent, shamefully neglected, and suffered to grow up without the simplest moral and religious instruction, and to become recruits to our vicious population, our rowdies and our criminals. this is certainly to be deplored, but can easily be explained without prejudice to the influence of catholicity, by adverting to the condition to which those individuals were reduced before coming here; to their disappointments and discouragements in a strange land; to their exposure to new and unlooked-for temptations; to the fact that they were by no means the best of catholics even in their native countries; to their poverty, destitution, ignorance, insufficient culture, and a certain natural shiftlessness and recklessness, and to our _great lack of schools, churches, and priests_. the proportion, however, that these bear to our whole catholic population, is far less than is commonly supposed, and they are not so habitually depraved as they appear, for they seldom or never consult appearances, and have little skill in concealing their vices. as low and degraded as this class of our catholic population may be, they never are so low or so vicious as the corresponding class of non-catholics in every nation. a non-catholic vicious class is always worse than it appears; a catholic vicious class is less bad. in the worst there is always some germ that, with proper care, may be nursed into life, that may blossom and bear fruit. yet, if we look at the catholic population as it is, and is every year becoming, we cannot but be struck with its marvellous energy and progress. we will find that population more intellectual, more cultivated, more moral, more active, living, and energetic than any other. the catholic population of this country, taken as a body, have a personal freedom, an independence, a self-respect, a conscientiousness, a love of truth, and a devotion to principle, not to be found in any other class of american citizens. their moral tone, as well as their moral standard, is far higher, and they act more uniformly under a sense of deep responsibility to god and their country. they are the most law-loving and law-abiding people. the men of that population are the most vigorous, and the hardiest; their virgins are the chastest; their matrons the most faithful. catholics do, as to the great majority, act from honest principle, from sincere and earnest conviction, and are prepared to die sooner than in any grave matters swerve from what they regard as truth and justice. they have the principle and the firmness to stand by what they believe true and just, in good report and evil report, whether the world be with them or be against them. among catholics you will not find the flunkeyism which carlyle so unmercifully ridicules in the middling classes of great britain, or that respect to mere wealth, that worship of the money-bag, or that base servility to the mob, or public opinion, so common and so ruinous to public and private virtue in the united states. the mental activity of catholics, all things considered, is far more remarkable than that of our non-catholic countrymen; and, in proportion to their numbers and means, they contribute far more than any other class of american citizens to the purposes of education, both common and liberal, for they receive little or nothing from the public treasury; and in addition to supporting numerous schools of their own, they are forced to contribute their quota to the support of those of the state. thus, to take a single illustration, the public school-tax in cincinnati for last year amounted to $ , . of this the catholics--such is their proportion in that community--contributed $ , , or more than one-third of the whole rate. this large sum--£ , --goes to the management and formation of schools which the catholics of cincinnati are debarred, by their consciences, from entering. they have therefore their own schools, which they have built, and support entirely at their own expense, without any assistance whatever from the state. the education which they give is known to be excellent; but it is based on religion, and is not controlled by the state and paid officials. the consequence is, that not only are they not encouraged, but they are actually taxed by the state. thus, for instance, the cathedral school is obliged to pay to the state an annual tax of £ , and the schools of another parish £ . the catholics of the cathedral parish have not only to pay the state school-tax, and the heavy tax laid on their school-buildings, but they have to find $ , annually to meet the current school expenses. all this has to be collected by the clergy as best they can. the non-catholic has no conception of the treasure the union possesses in these thirteen millions of catholics, humble in their outward circumstances as the majority of them may be. a true, high-toned, chivalric national character will be formed, and a true, generous, and lofty patriotism will be generated and sustained in proportion as the force of catholicity is brought to bear upon our american people, and the life of practical catholics falls into the current of american life. catholics have their faults and shortcomings, yet they are the salt of the american community, and the really conservative element in the american population. in a few years they will be the americans of the americans, and on them will rest the performance of the glorious work of sustaining american civilization, and realizing the hopes of the founders of our great and growing republic. it must, then, be evident to every true lover of the republic, that the state, were it at liberty to favor any particular portion of the community, should favor its conservative element--the catholics--instead of robbing catholics of millions of dollars, to continue, by godless education, the impious work for the increase of the number of enemies of the republic; it should rather supply catholics with the means to bring up their children in the spirit of true freedom--in the spirit of devotedness to republican institutions. but as the state is neither catholic nor protestant, it should at least act justly and impartially; it should not favor its own enemies; it should not make a lie or a farce of our glorious constitution; it should no longer play the usurper and the robber; it should no longer continue digging its own grave; it should not tax catholics any longer to support infidel institutions--nurseries of all kinds of crimes--and thus continue to violate most atrociously the very letter and spirit of the constitution, and to commit a direct outrage on the most sacred convictions of catholics. it is the well-instructed practical catholic that is alone capable of appreciating and realizing true freedom. ever foremost to concede the rights of god, ever careful to trench on the rights of his fellow-creatures, he is, for all this (and precisely _because_ of this), well aware of his own rights and dignity as a man, as a citizen, and as a baptized christian--a regenerated son of god--and, knowing his rights and dignity, he dares maintain them! he protests against godless education as a volcano that is destined to bury law and authority, and bring about universal anarchy, and prepare and establish the reign of antichrist. we must, then, have separate schools to educate our rising generation in a religious atmosphere, and imbue them with the principles of christianity. all those who oppose any longer the denominational system, in any manner whatsoever, are traitors to the republic and the worst enemies of the country, and from henceforth the vengeance of god will not be slow to overtake them. on the contrary, he who will be first and foremost in promoting this noblest of objects--the establishment of denominational schools--may truly be called the _saviour_ of the republic,--the _father of his country_; he will be as great, nay, even greater, than washington himself. upon him the blessings of heaven will descend in superabundance, and his name will be blessed from generation to generation. footnotes: [g] by "an act to restore to roman catholics in upper canada certain rights in respect to separate schools," passed may , , they provided that "the roman catholic separate schools shall be entitled to a share in the fund annually granted by the legislature of the province for the support of common schools, and shall be entitled also to a share in all other public grants, investments, and allotments for common school purposes now made or hereafter to be made by the municipal authorities, according to the average number of pupils attending such school, as compared with the whole average number of pupils attending schools in the same city, town, village or township."--cap. , sec. . chapter xiii. the catholic priest on the public school system. so far i have spoken as an american citizen. i have shown to all my fellow-citizens the tree with its fruits--the public school system in broad daylight. all who call themselves christians, or who consider themselves men of common sense, and warm promoters of the happiness of their fellow-citizens, will agree with me in saying that the public school system is a tree of which we must say what god said to adam of the tree standing in the middle of paradise: "of the tree of knowledge of good and evil thou shalt not eat. for in what day soever thou _shalt eat of it thou shalt die the death_."--(gen ii. .) it is now time for me to speak as a priest of the roman catholic church. it is the duty of the catholic priest to teach the children of the catholic church the language of their spiritual mother--the church. this language is no other than that of the supreme head of the church--the pope. now the language of the vicar of christ in regard to godless education is very plain and unmistakable. jesus christ, our divine saviour, has said: "what doth it profit a man if he gain the whole world, and suffer the loss of his own soul?"--(matt. xvi. .) what will it profit you or your children to gain all knowledge, and to attain the greatest success in this world, if, through your fault, and through your exposing them to the danger of evil education, they suffer the loss of that faith, without which "it is impossible to please god"?--(heb. xi.) _teaching of the syllabus._ guided by this principle, our holy father, pope pius ix., has declared that catholics cannot "_approve of a system of educating youth unconnected with the catholic faith and the power of the church, and which regards the knowledge of merely natural things, and only, or at least primarily, the ends of earthly social life_."[h] catholic parents cannot approve of an education which fits their children only for this life, and ignores that life in which the soul is to live forever. as faith is the foundation of all our hopes for eternity, and as faith without good works is dead, we cannot choose for our children an education which would endanger their faith and morals, and consequently imperil their eternal welfare. _teaching of pope pius vii._ this is no novel doctrine, as some assert. in the beginning of the century, the illustrious pius vii., in an encyclical letter addressed to the bishops of the catholic world, july th, , thus writes:-- "it is your duty to take care of the whole flock over which the holy ghost has placed you as bishops, but in particular to watch over children and young men. they ought to be the special object of your paternal love, of your vigilant solicitude, of your zeal, of all your care. they who have tried to subvert society and families, to destroy authority, divine and human, have spared no pains to infect and corrupt youth, hoping thus the more easily to execute their infamous projects. they know that the mind and heart of young persons, like soft wax, to which one may give what form he pleases, are very susceptible of every sort of impression; that they keep tenaciously, when age has now hardened them, those which they had early received, and reject others. thence the well-known proverb taken from the scripture, 'a young man according to his way, even when he is old he will not depart from it.' suffer not, then, venerable brethren, the children of this world to be more prudent in this respect than the children of light. examine, therefore, with the greatest attention, to what manner of persons is confided the education of children, and of young men in the colleges and seminaries; of what sort are the instructions given them; what sort of schools exist among you; of what sort are the teachers in the lyceums. examine into all this with the greatest care, sound everything, let nothing escape your vigilant eye; keep off, repulse the ravening wolves that seek to devour these innocent lambs; drive out of the sheepfold those which have gotten in; remove them as soon as can be, for such is the power which has been given to you by the lord for the edification of your sheep." _rescripts of his present holiness condemning the queen's colleges of england._ our holy father pope pius ix., consulting for the special wants of the catholics of ireland, has not ceased, almost from the very beginning of his glorious pontificate, to repeat similar instructions in his apostolic letters to the irish bishops. hence, by his rescripts of october , and october , he condemned, from their first institution, the queen's colleges, on account of their "grievous and intrinsic dangers to faith and morals"; and since then he has frequently repeated his sacred admonitions, warning the bishops and the faithful people to beware of evil systems of public instruction; and to secure, by every means in their power, the blessings of catholic education for the rising generation. _resolutions of irish bishops in and ._ nor have the irish prelates been unmindful of their duty in this respect. in , that is to say, five years before catholic emancipation, and in the midst of the struggle for that recognition of the existence of their people as citizens, they presented to parliament a petition, from which i make the following extract, which clearly shows their conviction of the necessity of religious education: "that in the roman catholic church the literary and religious instruction of youth are universally combined, and that no system of education which separates them can be acceptable to the members of her communion; that the religious instruction of youth in catholic schools is always conveyed by means of catachetical instruction, daily prayer, and the reading of religious books, wherein the gospel morality is explained and inculcated; that roman catholics have ever considered the reading of the sacred scriptures by children as an inadequate means of imparting to them religious instruction, as a usage whereby the word of god is made liable to irreverence, youth exposed to misunderstand its meaning, and thereby not unfrequently to receive in early life impressions which may afterwards prove injurious to their own best interests, as well as to those of the society which they are destined to form. that schools whereof the master professes a religion different from that of his pupils, or from which such religious instruction as the catholic church prescribes for youth is excluded, or in which books and tracts not sanctioned by it are read or commented on, cannot be resorted to by the children of roman catholics; and that threats and rewards have been found equally unavailing as a means of inducing catholic parents to procure education for their children from such persons or in such schools; that any system of education incompatible with the discipline of the catholic church, or superintended exclusively by persons professing a religion different from that of the vast majority of the poor of ireland, cannot possibly be acceptable to the latter, and must, in its progress, be slow and embarrassed, generating often distrust and discord as well as a want of that mutual good faith and perfect confidence which should prevail between those who receive benefits and those who dispense them." the irish bishops again expressed the like sentiments in . _address of the national synod of thurles._ a national synod met in thurles in august, , and again the prelates spoke words of instruction, of which recent sad events in france have furnished a new and most melancholy confirmation. "as rulers of the church of christ, chief pastors of his flock, religiously responsible to the prince of pastors for every soul committed to our charge, it forms, as is obvious, our first and paramount duty to attend to the pastures in which they feed--the doctrines with which they are nourished. and surely if ever there was a period which called for the unsleeping vigilance, the prudent foresight, the intrepid and self-sacrificing zeal of our august ministry--that period is the present. the alarming spectacle which the christian world exhibits at the present day, the novel but formidable forms in which error presents itself, and the manifold evils and perils by which the church is encompassed, must be evident to the most superficial observer. it is no longer a single heresy or an eccentric fanaticism, the denial of some revealed truth, or the excesses of some extravagant error, but a comprehensive, all-pervading, well-digested system of unbelief, suited to every capacity and reaching every intellect, that corrupts and desolates the moral world. is not such the calamitous spectacle which the continent of europe offers to us at this moment? education, the source of all intellectual life, by which the mind of man is nurtured and disciplined, his principles determined, his feelings regulated, his judgments fixed, his character formed, has been forcibly dissevered from every connection with religion, and made the vehicle of that cold scepticism and heartless indifferentism which have seduced and corrupted youth, and by a necessary consequence shaken to its centre the whole fabric of social life. separated from her heavenly monitor, learning is no longer the organ of that wisdom which cometh from above, which, according to st. james, is 'chaste, peaceable, modest, easy to be persuaded, consenting to the good, full of mercy and good fruits, without judging, without dissimulation,' but rather of that wisdom which he describes as 'earthly, sensual, and devilish.'--(james iii. - .) "it is, we feel assured, unnecessary to observe to you, that of all modes of propagating error, education is the most subtle and dangerous, furnishing, as it does, the aliment by which the social body is sustained, which circulates through every vein, and reaches every member; and that if this aliment should prove to be corrupt or deleterious, it will not fail to carry moral disease and death to the entire system. hence the awful obligations we are under, at the peril of our souls, of watching over the education of the people whom god has intrusted to our charge. "listen to the emphatic words in which the present illustrious pontiff sets forth the dangers to which youth is exposed at the present time, and the duties which are placed upon the pastors of the people in this regard. 'it is incumbent upon you,' he says, 'and upon ourselves, to labor with all diligence and energy, and with great firmness of purpose, and to be vigilant in everything that regards schools, and the instruction and education of children and youths of both sexes. for you well know that the modern enemies of religion and human society, with a most diabolical spirit, direct all their artifices to pervert the minds and hearts of youth from their earliest years. wherefore, they leave nothing untried; they shrink from no attempt to withdraw schools, and every institution destined for the education of youth, from the authority of the church and the vigilance of her holy pastors.'--_encycl. letter of pius ix., eighth december, ._ "such are the words of the vicar of jesus christ, which show the responsibility under which we are placed, and point out our duty to protect from the insidious snares laid for their destruction the lambs of the fold--that most helpless but precious portion of the flock of jesus christ which the prophet represents as carried in his bosom." _mixed system again condemned._ again, in , , , , and , the irish bishops renewed their condemnation of the godless system, and demanded for their children the advantage of truly catholic education. _unanimity of catholic bishops throughout the world on this point._ the bishops of prussia, of austria, of belgium, of holland, of canada, and of the united states, in their pastorals, their synodical addresses, and in their other publications, condemn with one accord the mixed system, and declare that education based upon our holy religion is alone suitable for catholic children. not to multiply quotations, it will suffice to cite the following extract from the address of the plenary synod of the church of the united states, held at baltimore, in the year . that council was one of the most numerous assemblies held after the council of trent, until the meeting of the general council of the vatican. its decrees were signed by seven archbishops, thirty-seven bishops, two procurators of absent bishops, and two abbots. "address of the plenary synod of baltimore, united states. "the experience of every day shows more and more plainly what serious evils and great dangers are entailed upon catholic youth by their frequentation of public schools in this country. such is the nature of the system of teaching therein employed, that it is not possible to prevent young catholics from incurring, through its influence, danger to their faith and morals; nor can we ascribe to any other cause that destructive spirit of indifferentism which has made, and is now making, such rapid strides in this country, and that corruption of morals which we have to deplore in those of tender years. familiar intercourse with those of false religions, or of no religion; the daily use of authors who assail with calumny and sarcasm our holy religion, its practices, and even its saints--these gradually impair, in the minds of catholic children, the vigor and influence of the true religion. besides, the morals and examples of their fellow-scholars are generally so corrupt, and so great their license in word and deed, that through continual contact with them the modesty and piety of our children, even of those who have been best trained at home, disappear like wax before the fire. these evils and dangers did not escape the knowledge of our predecessors, as we learn from the following decrees: "'(_a_) whereas many catholic children, especially those born of poor parents, have been, and are still, exposed in several places of this province, to great danger of losing their faith and morals, owing to the want of good masters to whom their education may safely be intrusted, we consider it absolutely necessary that schools should be established in which the young may be imbued with the principles of faith and morality, and at the same receive instruction in letters.'"--_council of baltimore, no. ._ _teachings of the supreme pontiff, pius ix._ in fine, to show the union of the bishops throughout the world with the apostolic see in their teaching respecting education, i add the words of the supreme pontiff pope pius ix., in which, replying to the archbishop of freiburg, in germany, his holiness clearly expounds, as the infallible teacher of the faithful, the truth i am now developing for the instruction of catholics: "it is not wonderful that these unhappy efforts (to spread irreligious and revolutionary principles) should be directed chiefly to corrupt the training and education of youth; and there is no doubt that the greatest injury is inflicted on society, when the directing authority and salutary power of the church are withdrawn from public and private education, on which the happiness of the church and of the commonwealth depends so much. for thus society is, little by little, deprived of that truly christian spirit which alone can permanently secure the foundation of peace and public order, and promote and direct the true and useful progress of civilization, and give man those helps which are necessary for him in order to attain, after this life, his last end hereafter--eternal happiness. and in truth a system of teaching, which not only is limited to the knowledge of natural things, and does not pass beyond the bounds of our life on earth, but also departs from the truth revealed by god, must necessarily be guided by the spirit of error and lies; and education, which, without the aid of the christian doctrine and of its salutary moral precepts, instructs the minds and moulds the tender heart of youth, which is so prone to evil, must infallibly produce a generation which will have no guide but its own wicked passions and wild conceits, and which will be a source of the greatest misfortunes to the commonwealth and their own families. "but if this detestable system of education, so far removed from catholic faith and ecclesiastical authority, becomes a source of evils, both to individuals and to society, when it is employed in the higher teaching, and in schools frequented by the better class, who does not see that the same system will give rise to still greater evils, if it be introduced into primary schools? for it is in these schools, above all, that the children of the people ought to be carefully taught from their tender years the mysteries and precepts of our holy religion, and to be trained with diligence to piety, good morals, religion and civilization. in such schools religious teaching ought to have so leading a place in all that concerns education and instruction, that whatever else the children may learn should appear subsidiary to it. the young, therefore, are exposed to the greatest perils whenever, in the schools, education is not closely united with religious teaching. wherefore, since primary schools are established chiefly to give the people a religious education, and to lead them to piety and christian morality, they have justly attracted to themselves, in a greater degree than other educational institutions, all the care, solicitude, and vigilance of the church. the design of withdrawing primary schools from the control of the church, and the exertions made to carry this design into effect, are therefore inspired by a spirit of hostility towards her, and by the desire of extinguishing among the people the divine light of our holy faith. the church, which has founded these schools, has ever regarded them with the greatest care and interest, and looked upon them as the chief object of her ecclesiastical authority and government; and whatsoever removed them from her, inflicted serious injury both on her and on the schools. those who pretend that the church ought to abdicate or suspend her control and her salutary action upon the primary schools, in reality ask her to disobey the commands of her divine author, and to be false to the charge she has received from god, of guiding all men to salvation; and in whatever country this pernicious design of removing the schools from the ecclesiastical authority should be entertained and carried into execution, and the young thereby exposed to the danger of losing their faith, there the church would be in duty bound not only to use her best efforts, and to employ every means to secure for them the necessary christian education and instruction, but, moreover, would feel herself obliged to warn all the faithful, and to declare that no one can in conscience frequent such schools, as being adverse to the catholic church." i exclaim with the great st. augustine: "securus judicat orbis terrarum." the bishops of the universal world, united to the vicar of christ, speak with authority; their judgment cannot be gainsaid. peter has spoken through pius; the question is settled; would that the error, too, were at an end! _testimonies of enemies of the catholic church._ however, it is not from the bishops alone that we learn the dangers of bad education. our opponents, too, the enemies of our holy religion, deem no other means more efficacious for alienating our children from our mother, the catholic church. one of the greatest enemies of the catholic faith in the first half of the last century, primate boulter, who took a chief part in founding the notorious "charter schools," writing to the bishop of london on the fifteenth of may, , said: "i can assure you the papists here are so numerous, that it highly concerns us in point of interest, as well as out of concern for the salvation of these poor creatures who are our fellow-subjects, to try all possible means to bring them and theirs to the true religion; and one of the most likely methods we can think of is, if possible, _instructing and converting the young generation_; for instead of converting these that are adults, we are daily losing many of our meaner people, who go off to popery." and with respect to mixed education in particular, we have the opinion of another anglican prelate, who, in despite of his professions of liberality, may be fittingly classed with primate boulter in his contempt for our people, and desire to subvert our holy religion by the means of education--the late protestant archbishop of dublin, dr. whately. we are informed by his daughter, that on one occasion he said: "the education supplied by the national board is gradually undermining the vast fabric of the irish roman catholic church.". (_life of dr. whately_, pp. , first edition.) again: "i believe, as i said the other day, that _mixed education_ is gradually enlightening the mass of the people, and that if we give it up, we give the only hope of weaning the irish from the abuses of popery. but i cannot venture openly to profess this opinion, i cannot openly support the educational board as an instrument of conversion. i have to fight its battles with one hand, and that my best, tied behind me." (p. .) the language of the church, then, and even that of the enemies of our religion, is quite plain on the subject of godless education. the good catholic understands this language of his spiritual mother; he listens to it; he repeats it to himself and others, and he goes by it. not long ago the catholics of ireland presented a requisition to the english government to show their unanimity, and their determination to secure a catholic education for catholic children. what a glorious array of signatures is attached to it! there we find the honored names of the only catholic lords that the operation of penal laws has left in that land ever faithful to the church. there we read the names of the lord mayor, and the aldermen and town councillors of the great city of dublin, of many baronets and deputy lieutenants, of several members of parliament, magistrates, high sheriffs, clergymen, wealthy merchants, and land-owners; of men distinguished in the various scientific and literary professions or pursuits; of country gentlemen, traders, artisans, and of all the classes that constitute the bone and sinew of the country. in a word, the requisition is signed by more than , catholics of every degree. may it not be considered as a great plebiscite? is it not a proof that the laity and clergy are all of one mind? is it not a solid refutation of the foolish assertion of some presbyterians, that the catholic laity take no interest in the education question, and that, were it not for the priests, the laity would be perfectly satisfied to accept godless instruction for their children? those who attribute this baneful indifference to the laity, misrepresent and calumniate them, and show their ignorance of their real feelings, and of the efforts which catholics in ireland, in belgium, in germany, and in other countries, have made to have and to preserve a good christian education for their children. the principal catholic gentlemen in ireland some time ago published an important declaration, presented afterwards to parliament, in which they proclaimed their adhesion to the principles held by the true church in regard to education. as for the catholic laity of ireland in general, feeling, as they do in a special manner, the signal blessing they enjoy in possessing the true faith, and knowing that it is a priceless treasure with which, far more precious than worldly substance, they can enrich their children, their love for catholic education is proved to evidence by the multitudes of their sons and daughters who throng every catholic school, and especially every school in which the presence of christian brothers or of nuns gives a guarantee that religion shall have the first place, and shall impregnate the whole atmosphere which their little ones are to breathe for so many hours of the day. they have proved, also, their dislike and fear of mixed education, by turning their faces away from schools in which no expense had been spared, on which thousands of pounds of the public money had been squandered, but against which their bishops deemed it their duty to warn them. hence, in several model schools erected in populous cities and towns, where the great majority of the inhabitants are catholics, sometimes not ten, sometimes not two of their children are found within the unhallowed precincts of those mixed institutions. in fine, the opinion of all the irish catholics on this subject of education is so well known, that nearly all of the liberal candidates who sought their votes at the last elections for the house of commons, declared in their electioneering addresses their adhesion to the principle of denominational education, and their determination to uphold it, and push it forward in parliament. and with good reason are they steadfast in those principles, for they know the necessary connection between good education and the maintenance of religion in their country. and they are determined to struggle for the establishment, in ireland, of a sound catholic system of public education, and never to relax their efforts till they obtain the recognition of this, their own and their children's right, even as they wrung catholic emancipation from a hostile parliament. thus the catholic laity practise what their pastors teach; and in ireland and other countries, both pastors and people are united in holding that nothing so effectually destroys religion in a country as a godless system of instruction, whilst they believe, at the same time, that a good christian education contributes to preserve true religion, and to spread the practice of every virtue and of good works through the land. though the catholic church and her children are so anxious for the progress of knowledge, and have made such sacrifices for the civilization and enlightenment of the world, yet they do not indiscriminately approve of every system of education. every one knows how much is done in our days, by the enemies of religion, to poison the sources of knowledge, and to undermine religion, under the pretext of promoting the liberal arts and sciences. in order to give a proper impulse to study, by securing protection for it, some insist that the full control of public instruction should be given to the government of each country, to be carried on by ministers of state, or public boards; others attach so much importance to the development of the intellectual faculties, that they call for compulsory and gratuitous education, in order to give a great degree of culture to all classes; and others, in fine, demand an unsectarian education, pretending that god should be banished from the school, and children brought up without being subjected to any religious influences. the catholic church and her pastors, being charged to feed the flock of christ with the food of truth and life, and to preserve the lambs of the fold from the contagion of error, cannot approve such systems, which seem to have been invented by the fashion of the day, a desire of innovation, or a spirit of hostility to religion. it was to his church, and not to the state, that jesus christ gave the command, "go and teach all nations."--(matt. xxviii.) "as the father hath sent me, so do i send you also."--(john xx.) "feed my lambs, feed my sheep."--(john xxi.) the office of the church is to teach and sanctify all men. she receives the child on its first entrance into the world, and, by means of holy baptism, makes it a child of god. like her divine bridegroom, she says: "suffer the little children to come to me." now the christian school is the place and the provision made for the training of those who are baptized into the christian faith. they have been made children of god, and as such they have a right to four things belonging to them by a right of inheritance, to which all other rights are secondary. they have a right to the knowledge of their faith; to the training of their conscience by the knowledge of god's commandments; to the sacraments of grace; and to a moral formation, founded on the precepts and example of our divine saviour. these four things belong, by a divine right, to the child of the poorest working man; by a right more sacred than that which guards the inheritance of lands and titles to the child of the rich. a child of god, and an heir to the kingdom of heaven, holds these four things by a higher title; and his claim is under the jurisdiction of a divine judge. but the school is the place and the provision for the insuring of these four vital parts of his right to the christian child. they cannot be taught or learned elsewhere; there is no other place of systematic and sufficient formation. and if so, then the school becomes the depository of the rights of parents, and of the inheritance of their children. the school is strictly a court of the temple, a porch outside the sanctuary. it cannot be separated from the church. it was created by the church, and the church created it for its own mission to its children. as the church cannot surrender to any power on earth the formation of its own children, so it cannot surrender to any the direction of its own schools. it was the church, as i have shown in the second chapter, that gave life and being to christian education; and education must remain under the guardianship of the church, if it will not cease to be christian. history shows us that it is the church that has civilized the nations, and it is the church that keeps them from falling back into their former degradation. learning was not diffused among mankind until the church removed the veil of sin and ignorance, made man really free, and widened the narrow limits of human thought by showing to man the infinite, the eternal destiny that awaited him. this supernatural light--this "freedom of the children of god"--is the very foundation, the very lifespring of civilization. the catholic church, then, far from being opposed to education, is its great and most zealous promoter. but she cannot help being opposed to the pagan system of education adopted in the public schools of this country. it is clear that this plan takes away the right of parents, whom god has charged with the care of their children, and it must necessarily interfere with the proper management of families. in the second place, it ignores the rights of the church, to whom christ gave the commission to teach all nations. in the third place, since governments, as constituted at present, have no religion, the teaching they give must tend to infidelity. in the fourth place, if governments take into their hands the management of things which do not appertain to them, the probability is that they will neglect, or carry on badly, the great temporal affairs which it is their duty to attend to. in the last place, experience shows that education carried on by the state is most expensive, and that it opens the way to intrigues and frauds. to confirm all these observations, it is sufficient to refer to france, where state influence has been supreme for the last seventy years in university education, and where the government has exercised an exorbitant control over every branch of public instruction. what has been the result? literature has fallen away, the number of schools has decreased, the french language has decayed, whilst moral corruption has penetrated the heart of the country, and infidelity of the worst kind has been patronized and encouraged among the teachers of youth, and the highest honors have been decreed to littres and renans, and other decided enemies of jesus christ. may we not read the condemnation of all such proceedings in the lurid flames of the burning capital of modern civilization? now, is it not clear that the primary object of education must be frustrated in the mixed system which proposes to unite children of all religions in the same school, and to treat of nothing in the class hours that could offend any of these discordant elements? if there be a jew in the school, you cannot speak of the gospel; if there be a mahometan, nothing could be said against polygamy, and other degrading doctrines of the koran; due respect must also be paid to the teaching of arians and socinians, who deny the trinity of persons in god, and the divinity of christ; and to the opinions of calvinists and lutherans, of methodists and other sectaries, who assail almost every point of revealed religion. in this case, how can the atmosphere of the school be religious; and must not children living in it grow up in ignorance both of the dogmas and practices of religion? this result may not be unacceptable to those who are outside the catholic church, because, not acknowledging any divine authority to guide or rule them, they have no certainty in doctrinal matters, and they do not attach any importance to external discipline. but how different is the case with catholics! we have many distinctive doctrines, such as the real presence in the blessed eucharist, the power of remitting sin, the divine origin of the church, and the primacy and infallibity of the pope, all which it is our duty to learn and to believe. we are also bound to observe many precepts, to hear mass, to pray and make the sign of the cross, to go to confession, to fast and abstain, and to obey other commandments of the church. if these doctrines, so sublime, and so far above the intelligence of man, be not continually inculcated on the mind of a child, how can he know them, or believe them as he ought? and if the practices referred to be not frequently urged on his attention, will he not ignore or neglect them because they are hard to flesh and blood? and what will be the case where the protestant pupils in a school are in a considerable majority, and the teacher of the same religion? will not the protestant children turn the doctrines and practices of the catholics into ridicule? and will not the example, and the words, and the gestures of the heterodox master, especially if he be kind and friendly, produce impressions dangerous to belief on the youthful catholic mind? is it not probable that a catholic boy, observing how his master, to whom he looks up with respect, is accustomed to act, will easily persuade himself that there is no necessity of going to confession, or fasting, or making the sign of the cross, or performing works of mortification? indeed, the probability is that catholics educated in such circumstances, if they do not abandon their religion altogether, will be only lukewarm, indifferent, or dangerous members of the church. and here let me direct your attention to another dangerous tendency of godless education. in this system all religions, true or false, are treated with equal respect; not only anglicans and presbyterians, but wesleyans and plymouth brothers, and the followers of every other small and miserable sect that has started into existence in modern times, are put on a footing of equality with the true catholic church, which traces its origin back to its divine founder, has existed in every age, defied the fury of persecution and the ravages of time, and numbers under its sceptre two hundred millions of faithful children spread over the world. and is not this to proclaim that there is no difference between light and darkness, no preference to be given to christ over belial, to truth over heresy, and error and infidelity? in a word, is not this to teach indifference to religion, or, what is equivalent, that no religion is necessary? what shall i now say of books so compiled as to meet the exigencies of godless education? have they not the same tendency to promote ignorance of, or indifference to, religion? no religious dogmatical teaching, no inculcation of pious practices, no mention of the great and sublime mysteries of catholicity can be admitted in them, lest some things should be said offensive to any sect that sends children to the school. this suppression of catholic truth is most detrimental to our poor catholic children, many of whom never read any books except those which they use in school, and learn nothing except what they meet with in those books, or hear from their master. is not this a serious loss? is it not a great evil for catholics to be brought up in ignorance, not only of the doctrines, but also of the history of the church to which they belong, and of the life and deeds of so many christian heroes whose virtues illustrated the world? how far superior is the system of the christian brothers, and other catholic educational institutions! their books make continual reference to the mysteries of religion, they depict the glories of the church, the majesties of the apostolic see, and continually inflame the youthful mind to the practice of good works, by proposing to them the lives and virtues of holy men, and by continually reminding them of their religious duties, of the end of man, and of other great motives calculated to induce them to serve god. in regard to this matter, i shall merely add that the common school-books have been generally compiled by protestants, that scarcely any extract from catholic authors is admitted in them, that they contain many methodistical stories, that their language is that of the protestant bible, and that they contain many things offensive to our love of religion. do you want to see what man without god--without religion--can do? read the history of the last eighty years in paris. you have there one simple phenomenon--generation rising after generation, without god in the world. and why? because, without christian education. first, an atheistical revolution; next, an empire penetrated through with a masking philosophy and a reckless indifferentism; afterwards came governments changed in name and in form, but not in practice, nor in spirit. the church, trammelled by protection, her spiritual action faint and paralyzed, could not penetrate the masses of the people, and bring her salutary influence to bear upon them. she labored fervently; her sons fought nobly for christian freedom; thousands were saved; but for eighty years the mass of men has grown up without god and without christ in the world. these outbursts of horror, strife, outrage, sacrilege, bloodshed, are the harvest reaped from the rank soil in which such seed was cast. all this is true. but how did souls created to the image of god grow up in such a state? they were robbed: robbed before they were born; robbed of their inheritance, and reared up in an education without christianity. let this be a warning to ourselves! we are told that a child may be taught to read, and to write, and to spell, and to sum, without christianity. who denies it? but what does this make of them? to what do they grow up? the formation of the will and heart and character, the formation of a man, is education, and not the reading, and the writing, and the spelling, and the summing. physiology, astronomy, chemistry, anatomy, and all other sciences with sounding names, and of greek etymology, will not teach our children the respect, love, and obedience due to parents. they will not teach them modesty, which is the brightest ornament of woman, and renders the relation of man with his fellow-man harmonious and pleasant. they will not teach them industry and purity, which insure peace and happiness in the family circle. they will not teach them the fidelity which the espoused owe to each other, nor the obligations contracted by parents towards their children, nor will they teach them to know, love, and serve god in this world, in order to be happy with him forever in the next. for fifteen hundred years christians served god and loved man, before, as yet, they received this cultivation of our age; and we, because we have it so profusely, are forgetting the deeper and diviner lessons. the tradition of christian education in this country is, as yet, unbroken. it has, however, been greatly undermined. it will be completely broken if we catholics do not strive, to the best of our power, to preserve it. we catholics, therefore, believe that it is our most sacred duty to bring up our children in "the discipline and correction of the lord." we hold that it is our most conscientious obligation to bequeath to our children the most valuable of all legacies--good religious impressions, and a sound religious education. we hold that religious education is the most essential part of instruction. now we know that religious education _is not_, and cannot, be given in our present school system. our present system of common-school education either ignores religion altogether, or teaches principles which are false and dangerous; and if it gives any religious education, it consists merely in certain vague, unmeaning generalities, and is often worse than no education at all. instruction without religion, is like a ship without a compass. ignorance is, indeed, a great evil; but of the two evils, it is even better, in some respects, for our children to remain ignorant, than to acquire mere worldly knowledge without any religious training; for without religion they grow up a burden to themselves, and a pest to society. human nature is prone to evil; and the rising passions, especially in youth, need religious influence to check them. there is a vast difference between teaching the child's _head_ and forming his _heart_. mere instruction in reading, writing, and arithmetic will never teach a young man to control his passions, and to practise virtue. such instruction may do for pagans, but it will never do for catholics. we can say that, so far as our catholic children are concerned, the workings of our public school system have proved, and do prove, highly detrimental to their faith and morals. so strongly has the conviction of this been impressed upon the minds both of the pastors and parents, that most strenuous efforts, and even enormous sacrifices have been made, and continue to be made, in order to establish and support catholic parochial schools. in many cities of the union there is, at the present moment, in daily attendance at these schools, an average number of between eighteen and twenty thousand children. the annual expense for the maintenance of these schools does not fall short of one hundred thousand dollars; while the amount expended for the purchase of lots, and the erection of proper school buildings, etc., considerably exceeds a million. the catholics of new york subscribed, in , $ , for the support of their own school, and, besides, they had contributed a million and a quarter of dollars for the sites and the buildings of catholic schools. nothing but the deepest sense of the many dangers to which the religious and moral principles of the children are exposed, could prompt catholic parents to make such pecuniary sacrifices, or assume such onerous burdens; for it has to be borne in mind that, while they are thus obliged, through conscientious motives, to support their own schools, they have, at the same time, to bear their share of the taxation imposed for the support of the public schools. all this is true; yet i can scarcely refrain from expressing my surprise at the extremely abnormal lethargy manifested by so many catholics, both in high and low places, regarding a duty, the chief one incumbent upon them as members of the family, as citizens, as christians and as catholics. now the cause for the indifference existing among our people on the question of catholic education, may be attributed to a false process of reasoning. they argue: it will cost money. true; but it is not by _state_ aid, or _city_ aid, that the work of catholic daily instruction and education in parochial schools is to be carried on. these schools are to be supported, as our _churches_ are, by the alms of the faithful. the catholics of other countries have their duties to perform, different, in part, from ours, but demanding great self-sacrifice. we, too, except we be "bastards, and not sons," must make our great sacrifices. the first, the most pressing, is that of supporting a good catholic education. in neglecting catholic education, we lose that which money cannot buy. can we conceive of a parent, a catholic parent, so cruel, so depraved, and so god-forsaken as to sacrifice his child, both body and soul, and devote him to eternal destruction, through eagerness to spare the paltry pence that a proper education might cost? it seems quite certain that if we wait for just appropriations from the state before we shoulder the burden ourselves, wait for it to compel us to accept of catholic education, we shall find ourselves in a very unfit condition to appreciate the favor; and from present indications, this generation, at least, is likely to pass away before such interest will be manifested in our behalf. now we must be persuaded that if we allow one generation to be brought up in unbelief, and the course of tradition to be once interrupted, the following generations will fall into a darkness and ignorance worse than that of paganism; living here without a god, and quitting this world without any consoling hope of a blessed immortality. so it proved, not long ago, with an unhappy wretch, the child of parents that had forgotten the law of their god, and sent her to one of the public schools in a town on the north river. she played the harlot, when she grew old enough, and then sought to add to this the crime of a horrible _murder_--the murder of the child that was of her own flesh and blood. in procuring its murder, she lost her own life. in the den of the monster-abortionist, and finding herself dying, one of the vile attendants now declares that she shrieked and begged for a catholic priest. the jew into whose murderous gripe she had put herself, found some means to quiet her cry, and she died without seeing a priest. god will keep his word! he has said, "because _thou_ hast forgotten the law of thy god, i will _forget thy children_!" i do not say that catholic parents are obliged, under the pain of mortal sin, to have _any_ secular education given to their children. but i do say that they _are forbidden_, by the law of the catholic church, to send their children to _any_ schools where the catholic religion is not _practised and taught_. if neglect to comply with the law of god and of his church, neglect to receive the sacraments at certain times, and under certain circumstances, is a mortal sin, is it much less a sin to neglect the proper education of our youth, upon which, to a great extent, their entire future depends? and if the sacraments are refused to persons persisting in sin, should not a sin of this great character be also considered in the conditions requisite for the worthy reception of the sacraments? i hesitate not to pronounce this matter of education a matter of conscience, and it should be treated accordingly by those who have the charge of souls. we see ecclesiastical edifices of great magnitude, splendor, and expense, erected everywhere by catholics, but for what purpose? to attract non-catholics? bosh! a catholic can hear mass in caverns, in catacombs, or under hedges, as they have often been obliged to do; but if we lose our children there will be none to hear it anywhere, nor any to offer the holy sacrifice, even in our most gorgeous cathedrals. where will be our catholics? scandal and disgrace will be the order of the day. i do not wish it to be understood here that i entertain any, even the least, doubt of the indefectibility of the church, or of the faithful fulfilment of the promises of christ; for the church will exist in spite of man. but again i say that catholics are violating a most sacred duty in not providing facilities for catholic education. this, o catholics! is what the money you are making so rapidly ought, in generous part, to be devoted to. so _you_ will think, at a day fast coming, when your bodies will be buried sumptuously, your souls forgotten by the living, and the estates you have hoarded with so much industry shall have become, perhaps, the objects of disgraceful law-suits among your heirs. dear catholics, let us cast off our lethargy; let us be unitedly active in this matter; let us discard the flimsy arguments of "_liberal_" catholics who would discourage the enterprise, regarding every such as our most dangerous foe. let us make our voice heard and our actions felt, and bring up our children in a manner creditable to ourselves, an honor and consolation to their parents, a blessing to society, worthy members of the church of god, and candidates for the kingdom of heaven. footnotes: [h] "hant propositionem auctoritate nostra apostolica reprobamus, proscribimus atque damnamus eamque ab omnibus catholicæ ecclesiæ filiis veluti reprobatam, proscriptam atque damnatam omnino haberi volumus et mandamus."--syllabus, prop. xlviii. chapter xiv. answers to objections. there are some who assert that "there is no sectarian teaching in the public schools, and consequently a catholic may send his children to them without exposing them to any danger." now even supposing there really were no sectarian teaching in the common schools, even then a catholic parent cannot send his children to such a school without exposing them to the greatest danger. those who approve of the public schools because nothing sectarian is taught there, act like a certain husbandman who wished to transplant a fine young tree to a certain part of his garden. on examining the new place, however, he found that the ground was filled with poisonous ingredients, which would greatly endanger the life of the tree. he therefore transplanted the tree to a sandy hill, where there were, indeed, no poisonous ingredients, but where there was also no nourishment for the tree. now will any one assert that the young tree was not in danger of perishing in this new place? and will any one assert that the faith and soul of a child are not in danger of being ruined in those godless common schools? even if protestantism is not taught there, infidelity is taught and practised there, and infidelity is even worse than protestantism. but is it really true that protestantism is not taught in many of our public schools? this is unfortunately far from being the case. napoleon i. introduced the public school system into france, in order, as he honestly declared, "to possess the means of controlling political and moral opinions." puritans and freemasons, in this country, have clearly the same end in view in upholding the present system of public schools. in the early days of new england, and even of several of the other american states, the puritans always used the public schools as a powerful means of spreading their peculiar doctrines. when they were stripped of this power by the liberal founders of american independence, they still struggled for many years to accomplish, by indirect means, the injustice which they dared not _maintain_ openly. we all remember how the poor catholic boys and girls of the public schools were harassed by colporteurs and proselytizers, who carried baskets filled, not with bread for the poor hungry children, no, but with oily tracts, cunningly devised to weaken, or even destroy, the religious faith of those poor little ones. in some schools even, catholic children were urged and enticed to go to the sectarian sunday-schools, and pictures, cakes, and sweetmeats were liberally promised, in order to induce them to go. teachers were selected with special regard to their bitter hatred of the catholic church, and their zeal for "evangelical" propagandism. some years ago, in new orleans, when the school-board was composed of bigoted sectarians, many of them sectarian preachers, all the catholic teachers, male and female, were turned out of the schools, merely because they were catholics. and even if catholic children are not always expressly taught doctrines opposed to their religion, nevertheless the school-books which they use are, as i have said, frequently tainted with anti-catholic prejudices and misrepresentations. nothing can be more evident than the decidedly anti-catholic spirit of english literature in all its departments. it has grown up, ever since england's apostasy, in an anti-catholic soil, in an anti-catholic atmosphere, and from an anti-catholic stem. it is essentially anti-catholic, and tends, wherever it comes in contact with catholic feelings and principles, to sully, infect, and utterly corrupt them. _sound knowledge_, a _sound head_, _strong faith_, and _great grace_--all these combined--may indeed preserve one whom the necessity of his position may lead into un-catholic schools; but no one will deny that this anti-catholic literature must exercise a most baneful influence over all those who, without sufficient preparation from nature or grace, plunge into it, in the pursuit of amusement or knowledge. protestant ideas will not make the catholic turn protestant, there is not much danger of that, but they will tend to make him an infidel; they will destroy his principles without putting others in their place; they will relax and deaden the whole spiritual man. in these schools, catholic children are taught that the catholic church is the nursery of ignorance and vice; they are taught that all the knowledge, civilization, and virtue which the world now possesses, are the offspring of the so-called "reformation." they learn nothing of the true history of spain, portugal, italy, france, ireland, austria, and the other catholic countries of europe; they learn nothing of the true history of mexico, and the various catholic countries of north and south america. they never hear of the vast libraries of catholic learning, the rich endowments of catholic education all over the world, for ages; they never hear of the countless universities, colleges, academies, and free schools established by the catholic church, and by catholic governments, throughout christendom. where is the common school book whose author has manly honesty enough to acknowledge that even the famous universities of oxford and cambridge were founded by catholics, and plundered from their lawful possessors by an apostate government? moreover, catholic children are often singled out by their school-companions, and sometimes even by their teachers, as objects of ridicule. now what is the result of all this training? the consequence is, that either the catholic children become ashamed of their holy religion, and despise their parents, or, if they have the courage to hold out, their tender minds are subject to numberless petty annoyances; they must endure a species of martyrdom. this is no exaggeration; i have it from good authority. practically speaking, the present common school system is but a gigantic scheme for proselytism and for infidelity. now we intend that our children shall be taught to love and revere their holy church. we wish to teach them that that church has been, for over eighteen hundred years, the faithful guardian of that very bible of which protestants prate so loudly, and which they dishonor so much. we wish our children to learn that the catholic church has been, in all ages, the friend and supporter of true liberty; _i.e._, liberty united to order and justice. we wish them to know that the catholic church has ever been the jealous guardian of the sanctity of marriage; that she has always defended it against brutal lust, and heathen divorce courts. we wish our children to know, moreover, that the catholic church holds the sword of vengeance uplifted above the heads of the child-murderers, and the perpetrators of unnatural crimes. we wish our children, in fine, to regard the church as the only hope of society, the only salvation of their country, the only means of preserving intact all the blessings of freedom. the public schools are not only seminaries of infidelity, they are, moreover, in many cases, hot-beds of immorality. in these schools every child is received, no matter how vicious or corrupt he or his parents may be. "one mangy sheep," as the homely proverb says, "infects the whole flock." so one corrupt child in a school is capable of corrupting and ruining all the others. and, in fact, where have our young people learned the shameful habit of self-abuse, and many other foul, unnatural crimes, that are bringing so many thousands to an early grave? ask those unhappy victims, ask our physicians throughout the country, and they will tell you that, in almost every instance, it was from the evil companions with whom they associated in the common schools. ah! you will see, only on the day of judgment, how many unnatural crimes have been taught and propagated, from generation to generation, in these very hot-beds of iniquity. "but, father," some one will say, "what harm can there be in sending children to public schools? for many of the teachers are professing christians, and exert a continual christian influence." but many more are non-professors, and exert an anti-christian influence. go and visit those schools, and you will soon be able to tell the religious _status_ of the teachers in charge, by the general tone of the exercises. one presided over by a zealous methodist resembles a methodist sunday-school, or conference meeting. another, under the care of a "smart young man," delighting in love songs, boating songs, etc., has the general tone of a young folks' glee-club. in another, in which one of the professors is an atheist, it is a matter of common remark among the boys that prof. ---- said there was no god. in another, one of the teachers is overheard sneering at a child because she believes in our lord jesus christ, and has a reverence for religious things. what i have just said is true. i have it from good authority. it is therefore no recommendation at all for the public school system to say that many of the teachers are professing christians. even the very fact that many of the teachers in the public schools are good catholics, is no recommendation whatever for these schools, for it matters nothing, absolutely nothing, whether the teacher be catholic or not; according to _law_, no teacher is allowed to explain a single dogma of catholic faith. now the dogmas of our holy faith have been _revealed_, and, in order to be known, _they must be taught_. ordinarily speaking, education is necessary to learn and preserve the faith. the catholics of ireland, indeed, by the special assistance of god, preserved their holy faith, though they were not permitted, by a bigoted government, to receive the education they needed and desired. but in this country, where there is no such prohibition, where parents are free to send their children to catholic schools, it is presumption in them, it is a rash defiance to the ordinary laws of god's providence, to neglect the daily systematic training of the minds and hearts of their children, in conformity with catholic discipline. julian the apostate forbade catholics to be educated in their holy faith, for he knew very well that there is no more certain means of destroying the faith than by not suffering it to be taught. it is almost certain that wherever there are no catholic schools, wherever the catholic religion is not taught and practised in school, there the catholic religion will practically die out, as soon as immigration from catholic countries ceases. bishop england has asserted that the catholic church loses more, in this country, by apostasy, than it gains by conversions. archbishop spalding, of baltimore, asserted one day that, in one body of methodist ministers, he observed seven or eight who were children of catholics, and they were the smartest preachers among them. neglected children of catholic parents become the worst enemies of the catholic church. the young man who set fire to st. augustine's church, in philadelphia, pa., was a catholic, and he gloried in being able to burn his name out of the baptismal record. by a just punishment of god, these neglected catholic children will become our persecutors. it is not sufficient to teach the catechism in church or at home. no! it is not the _knowledge_ of the faith, but the _daily practice_ of it, that produces catholic life. nothing but the constant practice of our holy religion can train our youth to withstand the dangers of this age, and this country. it is not necessary to argue this point. look at the tens of thousands of catholics who never think of going to mass on a week-day, and who often neglect it even on sundays and holy days. look at all those who never think of visiting our lord in the blessed sacrament; who never go to confession more than once or twice a year, and sometimes not even that. do they not prove, beyond a doubt, that the practical _habit_ of devotion was not taught them in their youth? look, on the other hand, at those congregations who, in the tender, susceptible time of youth, were in the habit of going to mass every day before the opening of the school. see how, when the bell rings, a goodly number of them find time, even on week-days, to assist at the most holy sacrifice of the mass. in such congregations there is indeed catholic life. these pious catholics carry the blessing of heaven with them wherever they go. amid all the cares and troubles of life they are gay and cheerful, whilst others grumble and are sad. the religious doctrines and practices learned in youth, can seldom or never be blotted out. the question of catholic schools is a question of making the country catholic. if this means be neglected, all other means will avail but little. there are others, again, who assert "that the discussion of the education question should be put off for the present as yet, under the pretence that our adversaries are as yet too numerous, and that it is well for us to do nothing until their feelings are more in our favor." if we are to wait until it will please them to say that our claims are just, the day will never dawn when our rights shall be admitted; darkness cannot coalesce with light, vice with virtue, or belial with christ. will those who deny the divine authority of the church, assail her doctrines, and seek her destruction, ever cordially assist us in obtaining from our rulers a system of public instruction not dangerous or destructive to our faith? if we consent to defer the education question until the torrent of bigotry will be dried up, we shall be laughed at, and compared to the simple peasant who determined to sit on the bank of a great river and not to attempt to pass it until all its waters should have rolled by; or we shall be compared to the careless farmer who allows rank weeds to grow up in his garden, together with the good plants, till at last the good plants are dwarfed and smothered by the noxious weeds. in my opinion, our own policy with those in authority should be to insist on our rights in season and out of season; and even when our claims may have been slighted or rejected, to continue our demands until every grievance shall be removed. we must make great exertions to obtain the object of our desires, and display great energy in our proceedings. we have numerous and active enemies to contend with--men as enthusiastic in a bad cause as the pharisees of the gospel, who compassed earth and sea to make a proselyte, but who cared very little for his moral progress, once they had secured his adherence to their views. however, we are not left alone in our struggle for religious education. with us we have the sympathy of the catholics of the world, who are fighting the same battle as we ourselves, and cheer us on by their example. we have with us the blessing of the successor of st. peter, who has repeatedly approved of the justice of our cause, and we have the sanction of christ himself for the safety of the lambs of whose folds we are laboring. but omitting all this, i believe that the most influential and distinguished members, lay and clerical, of the anglican body, are with us, and that the principal liberal and enlightened protestants of the union wish us success. the state does not interfere with the free exercise of our religion, neither should it interfere with our system of education;--two measures of great importance, well calculated gradually to promote the public welfare of the country. if the state seriously wishes to check the growth of revolution, or to stem the growing torrent of communism and infidelity, they ought to discountenance infidel institutions, and give schools to catholics, in which they may uphold the true principles of authority, human and divine, in accordance with the traditions of the catholic church of america, and thus strengthen the foundations not only of religion, but of society in general. again, some will say, "i do not see why people can object so much to public schools; i myself went there, and i think i am as good a catholic as any one of those who were educated at catholic schools and institutions." if you really have tried to be a good catholic, if you have complied faithfully with all your religious duties, you will have to avow that it is all owing to the beneficial catholic influence under which you were placed during the time of your scholarship, and afterwards. if you escaped the general contagion of unbelief and vice, remember that it is owing to a kind of miracle of divine protection. but what i have said in reference to public schools shows sufficiently that such a protection is extended to but few children--it is an exception to the ordinary course of divine providence, and god is not bound to grant it to any one. a certain friend of mine--a man of great learning and experience--wrote to me one day, that "he himself had been, in his youth, subjected to college training; that, be it by nature or by grace, or both combined, he resisted and escaped. but," he adds, "from my observation and experience, i would say it did require a miracle for catholic youth to escape the damnable effects of a non-catholic school education." i have had opportunities, in this line, that many a priest has never had. i assert that a catholic boy of tender years, and perhaps careless training, can be preserved from moral contamination, in public and mixed schools, by nothing less than a miracle. i will not chop logic with any one about it. it is a matter of fact. i therefore assert it as of ascertained result, that in _most_ cases--_especially_ in those cases where there are enough of catholics together to have a school of their own--their frequenting a school without religion will land _most_ of them in utter carelessness of their religion. grace does not destroy _nature_. and it is _nature_ that-- "... as the twig is bent, the tree inclines." but let me ask you, how can you think that you are as good a catholic as others; you who object to the teaching of the church, to the persuasion of all sensible men? indeed, your language betrays you. your very language convinces me still more of the necessity of having catholic schools where our children learn the language and imbibe the spirit of their spiritual mother--the catholic church. the public schools are none the better for your having frequented them. let us suppose a father wishes to send his children across the ocean. now he knows for certain that the vessel which is about to leave for the old country will be wrecked; he also knows that a few of the passengers will be saved, as it were, by a miracle, but he knows not who they are. will he send his children by that vessel? now the public schools are like a large vessel. the greater part of those who have embarked in it have suffered shipwreck in their faith and good morals. what father, then, will be mad enough to send his children by this vessel, across the ocean of time, to their heavenly fatherland? there are others, again, who assert "that we must not attempt to have catholic schools until we can afford to conduct them so as to compete with the public schools." the point in question is godless schools, which are condemned on account of being infidel in principle. even with all their faults, our schools are, it must be conceded, not infidel, but christian schools. we are at liberty, there, to teach our children our holy religion whenever we wish. we can give them good books, and bring them up in a religious atmosphere. if we do for the establishment and organization of catholic schools what we can, god will not hold us responsible for the loss of those of our children who did not profit by their religious education, while, on the contrary, we remain accountable to god for those who, for want of a catholic education, suffer shipwreck in their faith and morals, and are lost forever. in the sight of god, the above excuse will avail us nothing. some, even most of our schools, may have been more or less defective in the beginning. well, what was the church at the time of the apostles? there were then no gorgeous cathedrals as nowadays. the christians were instructed and sanctified in the catacombs, and in poor private dwellings. so, in a country like ours, the kingdom of heaven is compared to a mustard seed. churches and schools are insignificant in the beginning; but, by degrees, more life and splendor is infused into them, and they grow up to perfection. we honor and venerate the apostles as the corner-stones of christianity. happy, thrice happy, those pastors who lay solid foundations for future catholic life by establishing nurseries--catholic schools--for its maintenance and propagation. their reward will be like unto that of the apostles. our successors will bring our feeble beginnings to perfection. this is the natural course of things. we may not have the happiness to witness a plentiful harvest from the seed that we have sown with so much toil and labor; but we should nevertheless bear in mind that those bishops and priests who have the happiness of laying the foundations of future catholic life in our country, resemble our lord jesus christ, who suffered his apostles to perform even greater miracles than he himself had wrought. i know the above objection is more frequently made in the new england states than anywhere else. now it is a well-known fact that the yankee race is fast dying out. they have either no children at all, or only one or two. hence it is that the larger portion of the public school children are the children of catholic parents. these states foresee that were the catholic children to leave their schools, their public school buildings would soon be empty, and stand there as eloquent monuments to tell on the folly of the states for having erected them. now in order to keep the catholic children at their schools, and thus keep up their fine lucrative establishments, they have, in several places, taken in the catholic priests as members of the school boards. truly, "the children of this world are wiser in their generation than the children of light." these priests, by accepting the honor! of membership! of the school board, give, thereby, at least a _tacit approbation_ of the godless public schools. thus the state, by conferring this privilege! throws dust into the eyes of the people. it is, therefore, quite evident that were this _tacit approbation_ of the catholic clergy withdrawn, were they to erect catholic schools, the godless schools would soon be emptied and suspended, and there would hardly be other but catholic schools. the catholic teachers of the public schools would follow our children, and would be too happy in teaching on catholic ground, and according to catholic principles. should a sufficient number of children be left for the public schools, this would be no reason whatever to fear that our catholic schools could not compete with the public schools; for, generally speaking, catholic children are more talented than those of protestants or infidels. the reason of this is easily to be seen: they have been baptized; the veil of sin has been raised from their souls, and the catholic life which they lead makes their minds brighter, more quick to perceive, and to understand what is difficult. about six months ago the priests of st. james's church, in new york, exhorted the parents to take their children out of the public schools, and send them to catholic schools. what happened? three of the public school teachers came and complained to the priests that the brightest gems of their school had left, and that, on that account, they could not have the exhibition which they intended soon to give. a short time ago, at an exhibition in boston, it was a catholic young lady that took the prize medal. and after all, the principal object for getting up catholic schools is not to show off their superiority to, or their equality with, infidel schools--this is not even a secondary end--we want catholic schools to preserve our catholic religion, our catholic traditions, our catholic spirit and morals; we want them to raise in them children for heaven, not for hell; children for god, not for the devil; children for a happy eternity, not for everlasting damnation. that's all. hence jesus christ, on the day of judgment, will not ask parents and pastors of souls whether their schools could compete with infidel schools, but whether they did all in their power to secure the eternal welfare of their children by a good catholic education. father john de starchia, provincial of the friars minor, made regulations more favorable to worldly science than to the spirit of piety and religion, attaching, as he did, more importance to the education of the mind than to that of the heart. st. francis of assisium upbraided him for it, but in vain. so the great servant of god cursed the provincial, and deposed him at the ensuing chapter. the saint was entreated, by some of his brethren in religion, to withdraw this curse from the provincial, a learned noble man, and to give him his blessing. but neither the learning nor the noble extraction of the provincial could prevail upon st. francis to comply with their request. "i cannot," said he, "bless him whom the lord has cursed"--a dreadful reply, which soon after was verified. this unfortunate man died exclaiming: "i am damned and cursed for all eternity!" some frightful circumstances which followed after his death, confirmed his awful prediction. (life of st. francis of assisium.) such a malediction should strike terror into the hearts of all those who attach more importance to the cultivation of the mind than to that of the heart, and on that account prefer godless public schools to catholic schools. again, one may object: "the religious development does not necessarily suppose a literary development too. a person may be illiterate, and yet learned in the science of the saints, and a man may be learned in science, and ignorant of his duty towards god and his fellow-creatures. there were, are, and will be members of the catholic church, who, ignorant of science, of book-learning, did not become infidels, but exhibited a practical faith throughout life, and died in the odor of sanctity. divine faith does not require as a companion, in the individual catholic, a knowledge of profane literature, but humility, compunction, self-denial, and a contempt of the world. schools are therefore not absolutely necessary for our children." as far as the little profit is concerned that mere book-learning does towards enabling the masses of mankind to accomplish the great end of their being--the salvation of their souls--i am disposed to go all lengths with him in this. but he and i must both acknowledge that the whole current of catholic influence and practice has set in favor of book-learning and of schools. the popes have been constant in this line, and catholic bishops have acted in the same direction. but grant that _school learning_ is of little account. something even harder is said of _riches_. there is no _woe_ on those that spend their time on book-learning; there _is_ a "woe to them that are rich"! nevertheless, catholics, as others, strive to acquire wealth. so that they do it honestly, the catholic church does not condemn it. book education, like riches, is a means of advancement in the world. the instructed are, on the whole, of greater consideration than the uninstructed. the business of the catholic church is to see that this source of power is not turned to the destruction of those that acquire it. besides, i fully agree that, as a universal proposition, school-learning, or book-learning, is not necessary to the salvation of souls--which is the _great_ end of human life. so far, the objection is correct in saying that _catholic_ schools are not, as a universal proposition, necessary for catholics. but, _in hac providentia_; in a condition in which catholics, like others, are striving that their children may obtain the mastery, _book_-learning is, like money, a grand element of strength and of consideration. this is what those in care of souls must look to. book-learning and wealth are neither of them against faith. they are simple elements of power--_physical paraphernalia_. the great thing is, how they may be _used_! again mark! i do not say that it is of strict obligation for catholics to send their children to _any_ school. for the comparatively few that have at once the means and the disposition, i hold that there is _no_ education like that received under the parental roof. _there_ is the true home of sturdy independence in men, and of affectionate and chaste devotion in women. moreover, it is a great good fortune for conscientious parents, with growing childhood around them, to have the charge and responsibility of these children. it is education for parents as well as children. it brings the strong element of parental affection, in aid of all other motives for living a good life, as an example to beloved young ones. we mourn that catholics, at least, so seldom, when they have the means, make their own houses the schools for their own children. but this can be done by few, comparatively. nor can select and private schools, with few scholars, and those picked ones, be had. as a matter of fact, the children of most catholics must receive whatever _school_ instruction they get, in large and general schools. god may, by a miracle, preserve the faith in a whole nation, as he really did in the irish, because they were _forbidden_ to use the ordinary means whereby catholics bring up their offspring in the faith. but, when irish men and women come to this country, where there is _no_ prohibition of their having catholic schools, and having their children educated in them, it is, as i have said, a rash defiance of the ordinary laws of god's providence, to neglect the daily and systematic training of the intellects of their children in conformity with catholic discipline. there are some who say "they pay taxes, and they, of course, would like to profit as well as others by their contribution to the school fund." it is nothing but right that they should; but they cannot, and ought not, to do so upon the conditions imposed on them. the christians of the first centuries paid taxes to the roman empire, for they had been taught by their divine master to render unto cæsar what belonged to cæsar; but rather than refuse to render to god what belonged to god, rather than give up their faith, or expose themselves to the danger of losing it, they went to the lions. at a later period, the irish, so much taunted for their ignorance in reading and writing, paid heavy taxes to the british government, and, be it said to their honor, they, for a time, deprived themselves of the most useful knowledge, not on account of their opposition to schools, but because when the teachers of their choice were hunted down by government officials, and shot like wild beasts, if caught in the act of teaching, they refused to go to the state schools, which they could not attend without betraying the faith of their ancestors. we also pay taxes, and will continue to do so in submission to a most unjust law; but, thanks be to god! we are at liberty to seek legal redress, and our exertions should increase until it is obtained by those very means which were used to establish godless schools, viz.: the press, lecturing, preaching, etc., to form, again, _public opinion_ in favor of christian schools, and electing such men to legislatures as are down upon godless schools, and advocate the establishment of christian schools for the well-being of our country. in the meantime, in order to preserve the true faith, and save the world from the deadly indifference into which it is falling, catholic schools must be got up, and kept up, at any cost. finally, there are some of the clergy who say, "it is so much trouble to get up schools, and to support them--where to get the teachers, and the money to pay them." true, it is troublesome to establish schools; but we have to live on troubles. our very troubles become our ladder to heaven, if borne for the sake of jesus christ. if we do not wish to undergo troubles and trials of every kind for the sake of jesus, and for the salvation of those for whom he shed his heart's blood, we should not have become priests. our right and claim to heaven can be established only by following our lord, and by carrying our cross after him. as to the fear of not getting money for building and supporting schools, let us look at those magnificent school-buildings in every city and town of the country. where did those priests who built them get the money? it was no angel from heaven that brought it. the parents of the children that are educated in these schools gave it. let us rest assured that money will not be wanting to a priest if his zeal is great enough to show to parents the absolute necessity of catholic schools, in order to save their children from becoming scourges for society in this life, and from becoming victims of hell in the next. let a priest unite great charity and affection for children, and he will at once lay hold on the hearts and money of their parents. those parents who have no money to offer, will most willingly offer their labor for so noble a work. this has been our experience for years in every place where we took charge of a congregation. let every child--the poor excepted--pay from thirty to forty cents a month. the money thus collected will cover all the expenses for teachers, and for the books of the poor children. parents are but too happy to have a priest who takes a lively interest in the temporal and eternal happiness of their children. for the promotion of this happiness, parents will give to the priest the last cent they have got--nay, their own hearts' blood, if necessary. this we have witnessed many times. we have established schools in country places, where the people made very little money; yet they were but too happy to give us money for the building and support of schools. there are hundreds of priests who can say the same of themselves. and should there be refractory characters who do not care about a good catholic education, let us refuse them absolution, as penitents who are not disposed for the worthy reception of the sacraments. we cannot scruple to do this. the voice of common sense, the voice of sad experience, the voice of catholic bishops, and especially the voice of the holy father, is raised against, and condemns, the public school system as a huge humbug, injuring, not promoting, personal virtue and good citizenship, and as being most pernicious to catholic faith, and life, and all good morals. a pastor, therefore, cannot maintain the contrary opinion without incurring great guilt before god and the church. he cannot allow parents to send their children to such schools of infidelity and immorality. he cannot give them absolution, and say, "innocens sum!" for he must know and understand that parents are bound before the almighty to raise their children good catholics, to plant in their hearts the seed of godliness and parental obedience; this was their promise at the baptismal font. they are bound in conscience to redeem this promise; but they cannot do this, so long as their children go to the public schools; for it must be conceded that children attending these godless public schools are in _proximate occasion of sin_, and this occasion is in esse for them. this being so, parents cannot receive absolution unless they remove from their children this occasion of sin. "i do not see," says the archbishop of cincinnati--and many other bishops say the same--"i do not see how parents can be absolved, if they are not disposed to support catholic schools, and send their children thereto." "duty compels us"--says the bishop of vincennes, ind., in his pastoral letter of --"duty compels us to instruct the pastors of our churches to refuse absolution to parents who, having the facilities and means of educating their children in a christian manner, do, from worldly motives, expose them to the danger of losing their faith. this measure, however, being very rigorous, we intend that it shall be recurred to in extreme cases only, and when all means of persuasion have been exhausted." as for teachers, there are everywhere many young ladies who have received a splendid education, and who would feel but too happy to become teachers for our children, and bring them up in such a manner as to fit them for business in this life, and for heaven hereafter. but why so many objections? it was in the following manner that two bishops silenced all such objections, and made catholic schools spring up all over their dioceses in a short time: they told their priests "that, were they not to have schools within a certain limited time, they would dismiss them from their dioceses; and that, should their parishioners not be willing to provide the means for establishing and supporting catholic schools, they would withdraw from them their priests." this looks like believing in the catholic church. from the moment that the priests saw this determination of their bishop--the people were overjoyed at it--_catholic schools_, and, with them, _catholic life_, sprang up, and diffused itself at once all over the two dioceses. let, then, everyone of our clergy take courage, and the lord will dispose the hearts of the rich and the poor in his favor;--the hearts of the rich to provide him with means, the hearts of the poor to aid him, by their prayers, in the promotion of so noble a work as is the establishment of good catholic schools. chapter xv. zeal of the priest for the catholic education of our children. it is a matter of fact that the protestant movement was chiefly directed against the papacy, and that it involved a hundred years of so-called religious wars. this movement gave the princes who took the side of the church an opportunity, of which they were not slow to avail themselves, to extend and consolidate their power over their catholic subjects, and to establish in their dominions monarchical absolutism, or what we may choose to call modern cæsarism. under plea of serving religion, they extended their power over matters which had hitherto either been left free, or subject only to the jurisdiction of the spiritual authority. they were defenders of the faith against armed heretics; and they pretended that this excess of power was necessary, in order to succeed in their undertaking. a habit of depending on them as the external defenders of religion and her altars, of the freedom of conscience, and of the catholic civilization itself, was generated; the king took the place in the thoughts and affections of the people that was due to the soverign pontiff, and by giving the direction to the schools and universities in all things not absolutely of faith, they gradually became the lords of men's minds as well as bodies. in france, spain, portugal, and a large part of italy, all through the seventeenth century, the youth were trained in the maxim--the prince is the state, and his pleasure is law. bossuet, in his politics, did only faithfully express the political sentiments and convictions of his age, shared by the great body of catholics as well as of non-catholics. rational liberty had few defenders, and they were excluded, like fenelon, from the court. the politics of philip ii. of spain, of richelieu, mazarin, and louis xiv. in france, which were the politics of catholic europe, scarcely opposed by any one, except by the popes, through the greater part of the sixteenth and the whole of the seventeenth centuries, tended directly to enslave the people, and to restrict the freedom and influence of the church. trained under despotic influences by the skilful hand of despotism, extending to all matters not absolutely of the sanctuary, and sometimes daring, with sacrilegious foot, to invade the sanctuary itself, the people were gradually formed interiorly, as well as exteriorly, to the purposes of the despot. they grew up with the habits and beliefs which cæsarism, when not resisted, is sure to generate. the clergy, sympathizing, as is the case with every national clergy, with the sentiments of their age and nation in all things not strictly of faith, had little disposition to labor to keep alive the spirit of freedom in the hearts of the people, and would not have been permitted to do it, even if they had been so disposed. schools were sustained, but, affected by the prevailing despotism, education declined; free thought was prohibited; and it is hard to find a literature tamer, less original and living, than that of catholic europe all through the eighteenth century, down almost to our own times. as the catholic religion was professedly patronized by the sovereigns, the church, in superficial minds, seemed to sanction the prevailing cæsarism. the clergy, because they preached peace, and thought to fulfil their mission without disturbing the state, came, for the first time in history, to be regarded as the chief supporters of the despot. they who retained some reminiscences of the liberties once enjoyed by catholic europe, and the noble principles of freedom, asserted in the middle ages by the monks in their cells, and the most eminent doctors of the church from their chairs, became alienated from catholicity in proportion as they cherished the spirit of resistance, and, unhappily, imbibed the fatal conviction that to overthrow the despot's throne they must break down the altar. rightly interpreted, the old french revolution, although bitterly anti-catholic and infidel, was not so much hatred of religion, and impatience of her salutary restraints, as the indignant uprising of a misgoverned people against a civil despotism that affected injuriously all orders, ranks and conditions of society. the sovereigns had taken good care that an attack on them should involve an attack on religion, and to have it deeply impressed on their subjects that resistance to them was rebellion against god. the priest, who should have labored publicly to correct the issue made up by the sovereigns in accord with unbelievers, would have promoted sedition, and done more harm than good; besides, he would have been at once reduced to silence, in some one of the many ways despotism has usually at its command. the horrors of the french revolution, the universal breaking up of society it involved, the persecution of the church and of her clergy, and her religious, which it shamelessly introduced in the name of liberty, the ruthless war it waged upon religion, virtue, all that wise and good men hold sacred, not unnaturally, to say the least, tended to create in the minds of the clergy and the people, who remained firm in their faith, and justly regarded religion as the first want of man and society, a deeper distrust of the practicability of liberty, and a deeper horror of all movements attempted in its name. this, again, as naturally tended to alienate the party clamoring for political and social reform still more from catholicity; which, in its turn, has reacted with new force on the catholic party, and made them still more determined in their anti-liberal convictions and efforts. these tendencies, on both sides, have been aggravated by the european revolutions and repressions, till now almost everywhere the lines are well defined, and the so-called liberals are, almost to a man, bitterly anti-catholic, and the sovereigns seem to have succeeded in forcing the issue: the church and cæsarism, or liberty and infidelity. certainly, as religion is of the highest necessity to man and society, infinitely more important than political freedom and social well-being, i am unable to conceive how the catholic party, under the circumstances, could well have acted differently. their error was in their want of vigilance and sagacity in the beginning, in suffering the political cæsarism to revive and consolidate itself in the state, or the sovereigns, in the outset, to force upon the catholic world so false an issue, or to place them in so unnatural and so embarrassing a position. the truth is, the catholic party, yielding to the sovereigns, lost, to some extent, for the eighteenth century, the control of the mind of the age, and failed to lead its intelligence--they who should always be first and foremost in every department of human thought and activity. that the struggles in europe have an influence on the catholic clergy and laity in this country, cannot be denied. as yet many of our catholics, whether foreign-born or native-born, seem scarcely to realize the fact that they are freemen, and possess, in this land of freedom, equal rights with their fellow-citizens of every other denomination. they have so long been an oppressed people, that their freedom here seems hardly real. and unhappily even some of the clergy seem to be too timid and backward in defending boldly and publicly those doctrines of our holy faith which are opposed to the popular errors of our infidel age. so far we have, thank god, been enjoying full religious liberty; but it will depend mainly on the catholic clergy to maintain this liberty, by upholding the religious principles upon which all true liberty is based. in order to maintain these principles they must defend liberty of education to the utmost, and must not cease to remind the state that it is its solemn duty to govern a free christian people in a christian manner, and according to the constitution of the republic; and that, under no pretence whatever, can it violate this constitution in so vital a point as is the education of our children; and that it is a constant and crying injustice to tax catholics for the support of godless schools. we must not yield any of our constitutional rights; if we do, the church will be implicated, by degrees, in the same kind of struggle which is now becoming so serious in europe. now in order to meet with success, let us take up the press. in our country, unfortunately, an unchristian press is guaranteed the fullest liberty, and the evils that flow from that liberty are widely spread. it is certain that this unrestricted freedom of the press, which every one is ready to abuse, and which allows every one to constitute himself a teacher of the public, can be defended neither on principles of reason nor of faith. it becomes, therefore, not only our privilege, but our solemn duty, to combat the unchristian by a really christian press--a matter on which the church, and the head of the church, have spoken in an unmistakable manner. if catholics have not thorough catholic papers, they will take periodicals which are not catholic. to have even one good paper, through which we can give expression to our thoughts, is a great blessing and a great gain; but that certainly does not enable us to give our voice that weight in the questions of the day to which it is entitled. a great deal has, of late years, been done for the establishment of catholic journals, and much good has been accomplished by them. but far more might have been done had the catholic press received more support both from the clergy and laity. it is so easy for the clergy to give this support by encouraging the catholics in general, but especially the members of so many excellent catholic associations, to subscribe to such periodicals. one word from the priest on the usefulness of having a good catholic paper and magazine in the family, will induce a hundred times more catholics to become subscribers, than the longest appeal of a newspaper editor. the stronger the catholic press becomes, the more the attention of the nation is called to it, the more shall we secure their respect for us and our religion. yes, it is absolutely necessary in a country like ours, where religious tracts from protestant societies, and pamphlets and periodicals of the most obscene character, are flying over the land like leaves before the autumn wind, that catholic journals should be called into existence on every hand, and that no sacrifice should be spared to do so, and to encourage those already in existence. if the clergy only take the matter in hand, they will find those willing and able to carry the matter through. let us use our talents, as god shall grant us grace and ability, that we may, by so powerful a means as is the press, disseminate the principles of truth, in order to contend with error. the light of truth is far more calculated to dispel the darkness of error, than the light of the sun is to disperse the darkness of the night. why are there so many talents lying idle among us? why so many pens that move not, when they should be burning with love for god, and for the welfare of their fellow-men? why so many tongues that are ever silent, when they might, day after day, preach the good tidings of the gospel of christ? let us rest assured god has given to us, to every man his vocation, his sphere of action and holy influence, wherein he can proclaim to those around him that faith which maketh wise unto salvation. let us not be cowards,--let us show as much determination and courage, let us sacrifice as much for the propagation of truth as its enemies do for the dissemination of error; bearing, however, always in mind that the manner in which we must combat error ought to be charitable; for otherwise it is not calculated to command respect, and make a salutary impression. it is thus that our fellow-citizens of other denominations will come to understand that we appreciate our liberty, and know how to use it for the benefit of the public. but all rights and liberties avail nothing, in the end, if catholic education itself is not what it ought to be. and the great battle that is waging, that education may not be deprived of its christian character, can be won by us only on condition that teachers, and educators themselves, as well as parents and the clergy, understand precisely the full bearing of the question. to-day, more than ever, we need a thorough catholic education. the enemies of our religion are now making war upon its dogmas more generally and craftily than at any former period. their attacks, for being wily and concealed, are all the more pernicious. the impious rage of a voltaire, or the "solemn sneer" of a gibbon, would be less dangerous than this insidious warfare. they disguise their designs under the appearance of devotion to progressive ideas, and hatred of superstition and intolerance, all the better to instil the slow but deadly poison. by honeyed words, a studied candor, a dazzle of erudition, they have spread their "gossamer nets of seduction" over the world. the press teems with books and journals in which doctrines subversive of religion and morality are so elegantly set forth, that the unguarded reader is very apt to be deceived by the fascination of false charms, and to mistake a most hideous and dangerous object for the very type of beauty. the serpent stealthily glides under the silken verdure of a polished style. nothing is omitted. the passions are fed, and the morbid sensibilities pandered to; firmness in the cause of truth or virtue is called obstinacy; and strength of soul, a refractory blindness. the bases of morality are sapped in the name of liberty; the discipline of the church, when not branded as sheer "mummery," is held up as hostile to personal freedom; and her dogmas, with one or two exceptions, are treated as opinions which may be received or rejected with like indifference. nor is this irreligious tendency confined to literary publications; it finds numerous and powerful advocates in men of scientific pursuits, who strive to make the worse appear the better cause. the chemist has never found in his crucible that intangible something which men call spirit; so, in the name of science, he pronounces it a myth. the anatomist has dissected the human frame; but, failing to meet the immaterial substance--the soul--he denies its existence. the physicist has weighed the conflicting theories of his predecessors in the scale of criticism, and finally decides that bodies are nothing more than the accidental assemblage of atoms, and rejects the very idea of a creator. the geologist, after investigating the secrets of the earth, triumphantly tells us that he has accumulated an overwhelming mass of facts to refute the biblical cosmogony, and thus subvert the authority of the inspired record. the astronomer flatters himself that he has discovered natural and necessary laws, which do away with the necessity of admitting that a divine hand once launched the heavenly bodies into space, and still guides them in their courses; the stenographer has studied the peculiarities of the races; he has met with widely-different conformations, and believes himself sufficiently authorized to deny the unity of the human family; in a word, they conclude that nothing exists but matter, that god is a myth, and the soul "the dream of a dream." thus do men attack these sacred truths, which cannot be shaken without greatly injuring, and finally destroying, the social edifice. now, when we see the snares so cunningly laid to entrap our youth, can we wonder that so many of our catholic young men, even after they have been educated at catholic colleges, are caught in them, and fall into infidelity? a short time ago, a gentleman of great learning, and a celebrated convert to our church, told me that he had the greatest trouble to keep his son from falling into infidelity, though he was naturally inclined to piety. he said that he had him educated at one of the best colleges in the country, and that he felt surprised at the fact that so many of the young men educated there had become infidels. "i cannot," he said, "account for this, otherwise than by presuming that the religious training there is not solid enough; that the heathen world is too much read and studied; that principles somewhat too lax are in vogue; that the truths of our religion are taught too superficially; that the principles which underlie the dogmas are not sufficiently explained, inculcated, and impressed upon the minds of the young men, and that their educators fail in giving them a correct idea of the spirit and essence of our religion, which is based on divine revelation, and invested in a body divinely commissioned to teach all men, authoritatively and infallibly, all its sacred and immutable truths--truths which we are consequently bound in conscience to receive without hesitation. "now what i have said of certain colleges applies also, unhappily, to many of our female academies; they are by no means what they should be, according to the spirit of the church; they conform too much to the spirit of the world; they have too many human considerations; they make too many allowances for protestant pupils at the expense of the catholic spirit and training of our young catholic ladies; they yield too much to the spirit of the age; in a word, they attend more to the intellectual than to the spiritual culture of their pupils. "but what is even more surprising than all this is, that some of our catholic clergy, and among them some even of those who should be first and foremost in fighting for sound religious principles, and seeing that our youth are carefully brought up in them, are too much inclined to yield to the godless spirit of the age--to the so-called liberal views on catholic education, which have been clearly and solemnly condemned by the holy see. they tell us poor people in the world, that, if we are careless in bringing up our children as good catholics, we are worse than heathens, and have denied our faith! that, if our children are lost through our neglect, we also shall be lost. i would like to know whether god will show himself more merciful to those of our clergy who take so little interest in the religious instruction of our youth; who make little or no exertions to establish catholic schools, where we could have our children properly educated; who, when they condescend to instruct them, do so in bombastic language, in scholastic terms which the poor children cannot understand, taking no pains to give their instructions in plain words, and in a manner attractive for children. "as the pastor is, so is the flock. we enjoy full religious liberty in our country. all we need is good, courageous pastors--standard-bearers in the cause of god and the people. we would be only too happy to follow them, and to support and encourage them by every means in our power. what an immense amount of good could thus be achieved in a short time! our religion never loses anything of its efficacy upon the minds and hearts of men; it can only lose in as far as it is not brought to bear upon them. what is most wanted is not argument, but instruction and explanation. "i can hardly account for this want of zeal for true catholic education in so many of our clergy, who are otherwise models of every virtue, than by supposing the fact that their ecclesiastical training must have been deficient in many respects, or that they must have spent their youth in our godless public schools, where they were never thoroughly imbued with the true spirit of the catholic church--the spirit of god. "i have quietly, for some time, studied, as far as i was able, the prevailing spirit of our people; noted the remarks and efforts of a few ecclesiastics, laics, and catholic periodicals (and, alas! how very few) made in behalf of the sacred obligation of education, and endeavored to compare the results with the efforts, and the observation _made_ is sadly disheartening. "examine the catholic almanacs, the census of the various states, or those of the united states, and ascertain, first, the number of catholics in the country; second, the number of those between the ages of six and twenty-one years; then divide this last number by the number of catholic schools, including colleges, academies, convents, parochial and private schools, and the _quotient_ will be what? _indifference to catholic education!_ in other words, this simple operation in vulgar arithmetic demonstrates that in no country claiming to be enlightened can be found _thirteen millions_ of catholics with such an inadequate number of schools as we have, or are likely to have, if a policy widely different from that which prevails at present be not _early_ inaugurated and steadily pursued. it is, indeed, true--and i willingly, cheerfully admit the fact--that most of our priests, and nearly all our bishops, are exerting themselves zealously, strenuously, and with marked success, in the cause of education. but _not all_ the priests; _not all_ the bishops are enlisted in the cause; nor are all in _positive_ sympathy with it. all may be, perhaps are, agreed in believing that catholic education is necessary; but _all are not_ agreed as to the necessity of catholic schools in which it may be secured. unanimity exists as to the _end_, but not as to the _means_ to that end. and this lack or absence of unanimity, especially among those whose peculiar province it is to shape and direct catholic sentiment, has produced, and continues to produce, the most injurious consequences. "many of the clergy are _not_ opposed to the public schools, nor do they feel reluctant to publicly make known the "faith which is in them," when an opportunity presents itself. many are opposed to these schools, but theirs is a _negative_ opposition; that is, they are not in favor of them. they believe that catholic schools are better and safer, but they do not consider it a duty incumbent on themselves to undertake the labor and trouble inseparable from the establishment and direction of parochial schools. these reverend gentlemen are simply neutrals; that is, _if men may, or can, be neutral on such a subject_. "thought is free, and it may, perhaps, be impossible to have entire unanimity in matters of opinion only; but if one of the ends sought to be attained by the church be the securing to each child a catholic education, it is very evident that the establishment of schools should not be left to the discretion or whim of the several pastors. upon subjects far less important than that of schools, the statutes in many dioceses are clear, explicit, binding. is there any reason for their silence on the subject of education? our bishops have not only the power, but the will, to enforce such matters of discipline as they deem necessary. this granted--because too clear to be denied--does it not follow that the establishment of schools maybe made obligatory upon pastors? let discipline be made uniform, and we will not witness such an anomalous condition of things as exist at present. duties are never in collision; obligations never clash. there is but one right thing to be done, but one right cause to pursue, all things considered; and whatever is in conflict with this cannot be a duty, whatever may seem to be its claim. in some parts of this country, the sacraments are refused to those who decline to have their children attend catholic schools where such are convenient; but there is not, so far as i am informed, in those parts, any _rule_ making it obligatory upon pastors to establish such schools. in other sections, to withhold the sacraments for such a cause is unthought of. the consequence is that many catholics are at a loss to understand why it is that an act which subjects them to such severe punishment in one diocese should in another not call forth even a mild reproof--pass unnoticed. in actions indifferent in themselves, it may be wise, "when in rome, to do as the romans do"; but where _principle_ is involved, such an easy adaptability cannot be encouraged. "in this laxity of discipline, and in this want of uniformity, in this wide difference of opinion among those who give direction to catholic sentiment, and who speak, as it were, _ex cathedra_, may be found some of the causes for the indifference existing among our people on the question of catholic education. "but it is so convenient to allow things to go on in the old way, and so hard to establish anything new. yet a thing which, in the great struggle between the church and antichrist, is one of the most powerful means of victory, is really worth the highest sacrifice. indeed, the establishment of thorough catholic schools is the most important step that can be taken by our clergy to solve certain social questions, and which can be solved only on catholic principles. the greatest social danger of the age, is the dechristianization and demoralization of the rising generation. this dechristianization and demoralization are, to a great extent, the cause of the wretchedness of society, and make that wretchedness almost incurable. what enormous dimensions has this evil assumed under the present godless system of education in the public schools! but even the evils resulting from this system might, to a great extent, be healed, if the clergy labor, with the zeal and fire of apostolic times, to have good schools, and imbue our children therein with thorough christian knowledge, with fervent piety and earnest devotion. oh! if the children of light were only as wise as the children of the world, we should witness wonders. it is true that evil makes its way in this world better than goodness does, but it is also true that goodness does not prosper, because those who represent it take the matter too lightly, or do not go about it as they should. more is often done for the worst cause than men are willing to do or to sacrifice for the best. a great deal has of late years been done for the establishment and maintenance of catholic schools. let us sincerely hope that a great deal more will be done, and more universally; and need requires us not only to pray, but to work with all our strength, with inexhaustible patience and devotion, at the establishment of catholic schools, and make, for this noblest of objects, sacrifices not less generous than those made by infidels in behalf of godless education." it was thus that the good old gentleman spoke to me. he uttered great truths. his language is that of all good catholics in the country. i have often heard it. it is no exaggeration to assert that the salvation of those of our clergy who have charge of congregations depends, in a great measure, on the solicitude with which they promote the thorough catholic education of those children who are confided to their care. "therefore, ye shepherds, hear the word of the lord: thus saith the lord god: behold i myself come upon the shepherds, i will require my flock at their hand."--(ezek. xxxiv. , .) if our lord will require his flock at the hands of their pastors, he will undoubtedly require from them a stricter account of that part of his flock for which he has always shown a particular predilection, that is, for children. it was to children that he gave the special honor of being the first to shed their blood for his name's sake. he has given them to us as a model of humility, which we should imitate: "unless you become like little children, you shall not enter the kingdom of heaven." he wishes that every one should hold them in great honor: "see that you despise not one of these little ones." why not? "for i say to you, that their angels always see the face of my father who is in heaven."--(matt. xviii. .) he wishes every one to be on his guard, lest he should scandalize a little child: "it were better for him that a mill-stone were put about his neck, and he cast into the sea, than that he should scandalize one of these little ones."--(matt. xviii. .) he says that the love, attention, and respect paid to a child, is paid to himself. "and jesus took a child and said to them: whosoever shall receive this child in my name, receiveth me."--(luke ix. .) he rebuked those who tried to prevent little children from being presented to him, that he might bless them: "and they brought to him young children, that he might touch them. and the disciples rebuked those who brought them; whom, when jesus saw, he was much displeased, and saith to them: suffer the little ones to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of god. amen i say to you, whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of god as a _little child_, shall not enter into it. and embracing them, and laying his hands upon them, he blessed them."--(mark x. - .) the motives, then, that should induce every priest to devote himself zealously to the spiritual welfare of youth, are: first, the great interest which jesus christ takes in children; and second, the more abundant fruits reaped from the care bestowed upon the young. the son of god came into the world to redeem all who were lost. but do children profit by his abundant redemption? do they draw from the source of graces that are open to all? will they be marked with the seal of divine adoption, and be nourished with his own flesh in the sacrament of his love? will they be counted, in the course of their career, among the number of his faithful disciples, or among the enemies of his law? will they one day be admitted into his kingdom? will they be excluded? is it heaven or hell that will be their lot for all eternity? it is we priests, and almost we only, that are expected to solve these problems. children are the noblest portion of the flock that is confided to our care. their fate is in our hands. if our zeal is not active in their salvation, jesus will lose, in them, the fruit of his sufferings and death. how many are deprived forever of the sight and possession of god, because they have not received a good catholic education. who is to blame? has the pastor sufficiently instructed, warned, and watched over them? how many lose their baptismal innocence almost as soon as they are capable of losing it, grow up in vicious habits, grow old in sin, and die impenitent at last, because they were neglected in early youth, were not subjected to the amiable yoke of virtue! "bonum est viro, cum portaverit jugum ab adolescentia suâ."--(thren. iii. .) if the first years of life are pure, they often sanctify all the after life; but if the roots of the tree are rotten and dead, the branches will not be more healthy. "adolescentes, cum semel à malitiâ fuerint occupati, quasi incaptivitatem essent adducti, quoquo diabolus jusserit eunt."--(s. chrys. hom. in gen.) education is the mould in which a man's moral, intellectual, and religious character is formed. man will become, in his old age, what education made him in his youth. "adolescens juxta viam suam, etiam cum senuerit, non recedet ab ea."--(prov. xxii. .) all is a snare and seduction for youth. if the fear of god, the horror of evil, the maxims of religion, are not profoundly engraven in the soul, what is to protect young people from their passions? what can be expected of a young man who has never heard of the happiness of virtue, the hopes of the future life, and the blessings or the woes of eternity? now who will give the christian education, if not the pastor? can we rely on the parents? on sunday-school teachers? oh, priests! we are almost the only resource of these poor children. can we, knowing, as we do, how much jesus christ loves them, can we, i say, resign ourselves to leaving them in their misery? "the kings of the earth have their favorites," said st. augustine. the favorites of jesus christ are innocent souls. what is more innocent than the heart of a child whom baptism has purified from original stain, and who has not, as yet, contracted the stain of actual sin? this heart is the sanctuary of the holy ghost. who can tell with what delight he makes of it his abode? deliciæ meæ esse cum filiis hominum. look at the mothers who penetrated the crowd that surrounded the saviour, in order to beg him to bless their children.... they are at first repulsed; but soon after, what is their joy when they hear the good master approve their desires, and justify what a zeal, little enlightened, taxed with indiscretion! ah! let us understand the desires of the son of god. "suffer," says he to us, "suffer little children to come to me." what! you banish those who are dearest to me? they who resemble them belong to the kingdom of heaven. if you love me, take care of my sheep, but neglect not my lambs. pasce agnos meos. despise not one of my little ones. "videte ne contemnatis unum ex his pusillis."--(matt. xviii. .) i regard as done to myself, all that is done to them. "qui susceperit unum parvulum talem, in nomine meo, me suscipit."--(ibid. .) o saviour of the world! the desire to be beloved by thee, and to prove my love for thee, urges me to devote myself to the catholic education of our children. how great and consoling are not the fruits of zeal, when it has youth for its object! the good pastor never despairs of the salvation of his sheep, whatever may be their wanderings; he knows the power of grace, and the infinite mercy of the lord. but what difficulties does he not encounter when he undertakes to bring back to god persons advanced in age! children, on the contrary, oppose but one obstacle to his zeal--levity. all he needs with them is patience. their souls are like new earth, which waits only culture to produce a quadruple. they are flexible plants, which take the form and direction given to them. their hearts, pure from criminal affections, are susceptible of happy impressions and tendencies. they believe in authority. a religious instinct leads them to the priest. they adopt with confidence the faith and the sentiments of those who instruct them. oh, how easy to soften that age, in speaking of a god who has made himself a child, and who died for us! to awaken the fear of the lord, compassion for those who suffer, gratitude, divine love, in souls predisposed, by the grace of baptism, to all the christian virtues! ask the most zealous pastors, and all will tell you that no part of their ministry is more consoling than that which is exercised for youth, because the fruits are incomparably more abundant. although all my efforts for the sanctification of an old man, ever unfaithful to his duties, should be crowned with success, they could not help his long life being frightfully void of merits, and a permanent revolt against heaven. but if there be a child in question, my zeal sanctifies his whole life; i deposit in his soul the germ of all the good that he will do, and i shall participate in all the good works with which his career will be filled. all believers have come out of one single abraham. from one child, well brought up, a whole generation of true christians can proceed. in this little flock that surrounds me, god sees, perhaps, elect souls on whom his providence has formed great designs--pious instructors, holy priests, who will carry far the knowledge of his name, and aid him in saving millions of souls. in what astonishment would the first catechists of a st. vincent de paul, of a francis xavier, be thrown, had they been told what would become of those children, and what they would one day accomplish! but even supposing that all those confided to me follow the common way, i have in them the surest means of renewing my parish. to-day they receive the movement, in fifteen years they will give it. they will transmit good principles, happy inclinations to their own children, who will transmit them in their turn. behold, it is thus that holy traditions are established, and a chain of solid virtues perpetuated; ages will reap what i have sown in a few days. it is by these considerations that the greatest saints, and the finest geniuses of christianity, became so much attached to the education of youth. st. jerome, st. gregory pope, st. augustine, st. vincent ferrier, st. charles borromeo, st. francis de sales, st. joseph calasanctius, gerson, bellarmin, bossuet, fenelon, m. olier, etc., believed they could never better employ their time and talents than in consecrating them to the education of the young. "it is considered honorable and useful to educate the son of a monarch, presumptive heir to his crown.... but the child that i form to virtue, is he not the child of god, inheritor of the kingdom of heaven?"--(gerson.) "believe me," said st. francis de sales, "the angels of little children love those with a particular love who bring them up in the fear of god, and who plant in their tender souls holy devotion." have we always comprehended all the good that we can do to children by our humble functions? but if we wish for the end, we must also wish for the means--for catholic schools. they are the nurseries of the church, as novitiates are the nurseries of religious orders. the chief pastoral work of the church is to be done in the school. the school must be the chief solicitude of the priest. he must consider no trouble too great, no sacrifice of time and convenience too much, in order to secure good attendance and efficiency in the school. neither sick calls, nor any other ecclesiastical duties, should be allowed to interfere with the school. he must be the life and character of the school, and it is principally he who must administer correction. the authority of the priest, his interest in the school, and his relation towards the parents, are far more persuasive and effectual as corrections, than scoldings and penances inflicted by the master and mistress. it seems to me that we cannot insist too much upon the vital importance of the catholic school. a priest's time is never better employed than when three or four hours of it are daily spent in school--and that so regularly, that his presence in the school is looked for alike by teachers, children, and parents--and when he then occupies another portion of his day in looking after the defaulters, and in talking with parents over the school duties, and the future prospects of their children. thus the parents feel that in sending their children to be educated there, they are not turning them over to a number of paid teachers, nor even to brothers and sisters, but to the clergy themselves, for their education. this personal interest and solicitude of the priest reacts upon the parents as well as upon the children. a pastor, then, wishing to secure the salvation of the best part of the flock of jesus christ, must do all in his power to establish good catholic schools, and oblige parents to send their children to them, and not to public schools--to the grave of catholicity. it is _then_, also, and not till then, that we shall see more young people called to the priesthood, and to such religious orders as devote themselves especially to the education of youth. in europe, the bishops and priests, together with the laity, fight for the liberty of educating the children according to catholic principles and customs. in this country, our religious liberty is as great as it possibly can be. now not to profit by this liberty, is for the shepherds of the flock of jesus christ to incur the greatest guilt; it is to be like that ungodly bishop of burgos, who, on being told by las casas that seven thousand children had perished in three months, said: "look you, what a queer fool! what is this to me, and what is that to the king?" to which las casas replied: "is it nothing to your lordship that all these souls should perish? oh, great and eternal god! and to whom, then, is it of any concern?"--(life of las casas, by arthur helps.) to be destitute of ardent zeal for the spiritual welfare of children, is to see, with indifferent eyes, the blood of jesus christ trodden under foot; it is to see the image and likeness of god lie in the mire, and not care for it; it is to despise the blessed trinity; the father, who created them; the son, who redeemed them; the holy ghost, who sanctified them; it is to belong to that class of shepherds, of whom the lord commanded ezekiel to prophesy as follows: "son of man, prophesy concerning the shepherds of israel: prophesy and say to the shepherds: thus saith the lord god: wo to the shepherds of israel.... my flock you did not feed. the weak you have not strengthened; and that which was sick, you have not healed: that which was broken, you have not bound up; and that which was driven away, you have not brought again; neither have you sought that which was lost:... and my sheep were scattered, because there was no shepherd: and they became the prey of all the beasts of the field, and were scattered. my sheep have wandered in every mountain, and in every high hill: and there was none, i say, that sought them. therefore, ye shepherds, hear the word of the lord: behold, i myself come upon the shepherds. i will require my flock at their hands."--(ezek. xxxiv. - .) to be destitute of this zeal for the catholic education of our children, is to hide the five talents which the lord has given us, instead of gaining other five talents. surely the lord will say: "and the unprofitable servant cast ye out into the exterior darkness. there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth."--(matt. xxv. .) what a shame for pastors of souls to know that the devil, in alliance with the wicked, is at work, day and night, for the ruin and destruction of youth, and to be so little concerned about their eternal loss; just as if it was not true what the holy fathers say, that the salvation of one soul is worth more than the whole visible world! since when is it, then, that the price of the souls of little children has been lessened? ah, as long as the price of the blood of jesus christ remains of an infinite value, so long the price of souls will remain the same also! heaven and earth will pass away, but this truth will not. the devil knows and understands it but too well. oh! how he delights in a priest who is called, by jesus christ, "the hireling, because he has no care for the sheep, and who seeth the wolf coming and leaveth the sheep and flieth."--(john x. .) on the day of judgment, such a priest will be confounded by that poor man of whom we read, in the life of st. francis de sales, as follows: one day this holy and zealous pastor, on a visit of his diocese, had reached the top of one of those dreadful mountains, overwhelmed with fatigue and cold, his hands and feet completely benumbed, in order to visit a single parish in that dreary situation; while he was viewing, with astonishment, those immense blocks of ice of an uncommon thickness, the inhabitants, who had approached to meet him, related that some days before a shepherd, running after a strayed sheep, had fallen into one of these tremendous precipices. they added that his fate would never have been known if his companion, who was in search of him, had not discovered his hat on the edge of the precipice. the poor man, therefore, imagined that the shepherd might be still relieved, or, if he should have perished, that he might be honored with a christian burial. with this view he descended, by the means of ropes, this icy precipice, whence he was drawn up, pierced through with cold, and holding in his arms his companion, who was dead, and almost frozen into a block of ice. francis, hearing this account, turned to his attendants, who were disheartened with the extreme fatigues which they had every day to encounter, and availing himself of this circumstance to encourage them, he said: "some persons imagine that we do too much, and we certainly do far less than these poor people. you have heard in what manner one has lost his life in an attempt to find a strayed animal; and how another has exposed himself to the danger of perishing, in order to procure for his friend a burial, which, under these circumstances, might have been dispensed with. these examples speak to us in forcible language; by this charity we are confounded, we who perform much less for the salvation of souls intrusted to our care, than those poor people do for the security of animals confided to their charge." then the holy prelate heaved a deep sigh, saying: "my god, what a beautiful lesson for bishops and pastors! this poor shepherd has sacrificed his life to save a strayed sheep, and i, alas! have so little zeal for the salvation of souls. the least obstacle suffices to deter me, and make me calculate my every step and trouble. great god, give me true zeal, and the genuine spirit of a good shepherd! ah, how many shepherds of souls will not this herdsman judge!" alas! how just and how true is this remark. if we saw our very enemies surrounded by fire, we would think of means to rescue them from the danger; and now we see thousands of little children, redeemed at the price of the blood of jesus christ, on the point of losing their faith, and with it their souls; and shall we be less concerned and less active for these images and likenesses of god than for their frames, their bodies? we hear a little child weeping, and we at once try to console it; we hear a little dog whining at the door, and we open it; a poor beggar asks for a piece of bread, and we give it; and we hear the mother of our catholic children--the catholic church--cry in lamentable accents: "let my little ones have the bread of life--a good christian education"--and we do not heed her voice. we hear jesus christ cry, "suffer the little ones to come unto me," by means of a catholic education; we hear him say: "woe to him who scandalizes a little child"--who makes it lose his innocence--his faith--his soul, by sending it to godless schools; we see him weep over jerusalem, over the loss of so many catholic children, and we hear him say: "weep not over me, but for _your children_"; and neither his voice nor his tears make any impression. we say with the man in the gospel, "trouble me not, the door (of our heart) is now shut, i cannot rise and give thee."--(luke xi.) if an ass, says our lord, falls into a pit, you will pull him out even on a sabbath-day; and an innocent soul, nay, thousands of innocent children, fall away from me and pass over to the army of the apostate angels, and become my and your adversaries, and you do not care. oh, what great cruelty, what hardness of heart, nay, what great impiety! if we were blind, we should not have sin; but as jesus christ has spoken to us on the subject of education through his vicar on earth, through so many zealous bishops, through sad experience, nay, even through many of those who are outside the church, we have no excuse for our sin of suffering devilish wolves to devour our youth in our country. "my watchmen," says the lord, "are all _dumb dogs_, not able to bark, seeing vain things, _sleeping_, and loving dreams."--(isa. lvi. .) truly the curses and maledictions of all those who led a bad life, and were damned for want of a good christian education, which we neglected to give them, will come down upon us! what shall we answer? "and he was silent."--matt. xxii. marvellous, indeed, have been god's gracious dealings with this poor land of ours, so very far above what we could have dreamed or hoped for some years ago, that we may say in all truth that the finger of god has touched us. that touch has quickened catholic life in our land to a wonderful extent; not, indeed, as yet, with the great exuberance of catholic european countries, but nevertheless with almost exulting gladness; for to-day there are few indeed of our cities and towns in which at least the pulse of catholic life does not beat strongly. but why have these great things been done for us? why has our catholic life been increased and strengthened so wonderfully, except to win more souls to christ, to bring more of the american people into closer union with god? if this be so, then we must not leave our lord to work alone; we must be fellow-workers with him, by helping forward the growth of holiness, the progress of the spiritual life, the poverty of the cross, the spreading of his spirit in opposition to the formal and self-indulgent spirit of the age, and this by every means in our power; and, above all, by multiplying amongst us catholic schools and institutions. what the future may have in store for the church in america we cannot tell; whether, when more of god's spirit has been poured out upon us, our sons and our daughters shall prophesy, and our young men shall see visions, and our old men shall dream dreams, as in the days of old; but of this we may be sure, that in exact proportion as our clergy exert that mighty energy which springs from the living faith that overcomes the world, in order to leaven the mass of the american people, and to build up, throughout the length and breadth of the land, temples and schools to god's holy name, and altars to his honor, will be the manifestation of the kingdom of god with power and majesty in the midst of this american land, and the grasp of god's church upon the hearts and minds of this american people! * * * * * i have now only to add that i submit this, and whatever else i have written, to the better judgment of our bishops, but especially to the holy see, anxiously desirous to think nothing, to say nothing, to teach nothing but what is approved of by those to whom the sacred deposit of faith has been committed--those who watch over us as being _to render an account to god for our souls_. now, should the prelates of the church deem this publication ever so little calculated to promote the great cause for which it has been written, the compiler will believe himself amply rewarded for his labor, and he will feel extremely grateful if they encourage its circulation by giving it their special approbation and recommendation. father michael müller's books, for sale by patrick donahoe, and all catholic booksellers. the blessed eucharist our greatest treasure. price, $ . . * * * * * [_letter from archbishop spalding._] "we have read with much pleasure and with great edification this valuable work, composed by one of our redemptorist fathers in baltimore. we have found the matter solid, well digested, and instructive, and the style simple, earnest, and full of unction. the examples are, in general, appropriately selected as illustrations of the text; and many of them are very edifying, and even touching. these are, of course, to be received, according to the author's timely protest in the beginning, with the wise reserve expressly ordered by the church in regard to such matters, in the well-known bull of urban viii.; but, with this necessary precaution, such legends are profitable unto edification, as the way of teaching by example is much more compendious, as well as much more impressive, than that by word or writing. it is refreshing to find, in this cold utilitarian age, a work issued from the press so full of catholic life, and so glowing with the fire of catholic love. believing that its extensive circulation and diligent perusal will be promotive of piety, and will be useful to all classes both within and without the church, we earnestly recommend the work to the faithful people under our charge. "martin john spalding, _archbishop of baltimore_. "_baltimore_, feast of st. francis de sales, ." * * * * * [_letter from bishop luers._] "rev. and dear sir:--'the blessed eucharist,' of which you have kindly sent me a copy, is truly a charming work. it should be in every catholic family. yours truly in christ, "j. h. luers, _bishop of fort wayne_. "_fort wayne_, january , ." [_from the "banner of the south," augusta, georgia._] "we have read this beautiful book; we have tasted the sweetness of its thoughts, and we are reading it again. there is a humility about its style so like his humility who dwells with us in the holy sacrament: deep thoughts in plain words--doctrinal sublimities in language so simple, that a child, without effort, may understand. it is indeed a book of piety, and it will fill many a heart with love for the great mystery of the altar. "rev. father ryan, _of augusta, ga._" * * * * * [_letter to the editors of the "baltimore mirror."_] "messrs. editors of the _baltimore mirror_:--if you have room in your columns, permit me, through them, to say a word or two about father müller's book, 'the blessed eucharist.' but how shall i begin? to say it is great, good, or grand, is not enough. the nearest i can come to expressing what i feel about it, is to say, next to receiving the blessed eucharist, is the perusal of this inestimable book. i wish to say to every reader of the _mirror_, buy the book. no matter how great a sinner you are, the hope of speedy relief is pointed out to you here; no matter how weak and discouraged you are, the way to strengthen you is shown here; no matter how dear the privilege is to you of receiving the blessed sacrament, it will become doubly dear after reading this book. to the rich i would say, buy two copies and give one to your poor brother; his prayers and blessings will well repay you for the trifling expenditure. to the ladies i would say, spare yourself a bit of ribbon and buy the book. to the gentlemen, a few less cigars or drinks, and buy the book. every single page of it is worth the price of the volume. could dear father müller have heard the prayers and seen the tears of a poor old lady who is crippled, and cannot go to church, when it was being read to her this morning, he would be rewarded as i know he wishes to be. to one and all i say, buy the book. "cecelia. "_harrisburg, pa., ._" prayer the key of salvation. price, $ . . * * * * * [_letter from archbishop spalding._] "the book on prayer, key of salvation, is a collection of beautiful jewels. it is a truly admirable book. in point of intrinsic merit, it is superior to its predecessor--the golden book on the holy eucharist--making due allowance for the difference of subject. it is replete with interest and solid instruction, and is specially well adapted for spiritual reading in religious communities and in families. we take much pleasure in recommending to our diocesans this excellent work of rev. m. müller, c.s.s.r., which appears in a second revised edition. "m. j. spalding, _archbishop of baltimore._ "_baltimore_, ash wednesday, ." our lady of perpetual help, in the work of our redemption and sanctification. with an historical account of the origin and effects of the miraculous picture. price, cents. * * * * * [_letter from james a. mcmaster, editor and proprietor of "new york freeman's journal."_] "my dear father mÜller,--i have read the manuscript you were so kind as to leave with me, on 'our lady of perpetual help.' "i will say, sincerely, that i think it even more valuable, and more interesting, than your book on the blessed eucharist, that has done so much good, and is liked so much by pious souls. more than this it cannot be needed to say; but i will add that, in my poor judgment at least, it is so desirable to have it _speedily_ published, that i wish the angels may _tickle the lungs_ of any one that, beyond what is necessary, delays its production. "affectionately and humbly yours, "james a. mcmaster. "_new york_, may , ." the golden rule; or, the book for all. price, $ . . * * * * * [_from the "boston pilot," nov. , ._] "the author of this excellent work is the rev. michael müller, c.s.s.r.--a name deservedly held in great esteem in the catholic community. we shall not praise the author for his eminent qualities, for we do not wish to give him pain. but of his work, which we have carefully examined, we must say that it will compare favorably with rodriguez, nigronius, and cassian. true, it is written for superiors of religious communities, yet it will prove eminently useful to pastors and directors of souls. father müller exhibits a knowledge of religious and ascetic economy truly wonderful. we bespeak for this work a wide circulation. it is a book of that enticing class that, once taken up, it will not be laid down until read through, from a to z. dry as the subject may appear, it is so handled that the _utile dulci_ must needs be felt by all readers. again we thank father müller for this new addition he has given to the stock of our american catholic literature and profitable reading. "rev. father finotti." [_from the "new york freeman's journal."_] "this book will be very valuable to superiors of religious houses, for whom it is primarily intended. but it is the book, also, for a great many others. it is a book for catholic pastors of parishes--for they have governmental responsibility of souls. it is a book for priests who sit in the confessional, for these, too, have to deal with all sorts of temperaments and of characters. but it is a book, also, for _catholic parents_--for these, by divine order, have the care and responsibility for the right training of their children." * * * * * [_from the "pittsburgh catholic."_] "this is a work which will be very acceptable to the superiors of religious orders. in a clear and forcible manner the reverend author has laid before us the awful responsibility, with its trials and consolations, which rests on the shoulders of all those who are called to rule and direct the various characters that enter the religious state. "the art of arts, and the science of sciences, is to rule--to govern men. with this beautiful as well as profound saying of st. gregory, the reverend author opens his first chapter. around it he hangs all the wisdom which many years of study and experience have enabled him to collect. "we have every hope that the work will meet with a well-merited reception. it may truly be called the 'golden rule,' since it embraces all the duties of superiors." * * * * * [_from the "baltimore mirror," nov. , ._] "this excellent work, by a talented and respected clergyman of this city, although written principally for the instruction of those who have charge of religious communities, will prove of immense benefit to all in authority, whether clerical or lay; and while the director of souls will find in it much sound advice, the parent, the teacher, will treasure it as a safe guide in the performance of duties too often little understood. if it is hard to learn to obey, still harder is it to learn how to govern. the perusal of 'the golden rule' will do much towards avoiding the misuse of the 'brief authority' with which one is clothed. "the book bears the 'imprimatur' of the most rev. archbishop of baltimore, and its typographical execution does credit to the publishers." * * * * * [_from the "new york tablet," nov. , ._] "this is truly a golden book, full of sublime instruction for the governing and the governed, not only in religious communities, for whom it seems specially intended, but amongst christians in the world. it is a work of the highest importance, and ought to find a place in the library of every religious house." triumph of the blessed sacrament; or, history of nicola aubry. price, cents. * * * * * [_from the "boston pilot."_] "this is a valuable work. father müller is a writer well-known to the catholics: his writings have proved most acceptable for their solidity and practicalness. this is a timely production, when, by an inexplicable inconsistency, the agency of spirits is asserted, and their existence denied. the history of nicola cannot be contradicted; and page contains the clearest exposition of the nature of spiritualism (spiritism), and the conclusive proofs of its agency. "father finotti." * * * * * [_from the "new york tablet."_] "this little book is full, from beginning to end, of extraordinary and intense interest. the narrative contained in the first part of it is one that shows in a remarkable manner the dread power of our lord in his sacrament of the altar, a power which the infernal legions recognize, and before which they tremble. the second part gives a short but deeply interesting account of modern spiritualism, as the form which divination, sorcery, and devil-worship has assumed in our days. it is written in a simple, agreeable style, that makes it pleasant to read." the religious state. price, cents. * * * * * [_from the "pittsburgh catholic."_] "this is an excellent little work--one which should be read by all. it shows the origin of the religious state, and the advantages to be derived by a life solely devoted to the service of god. the many objections that are frequently put forward against religious orders are answered in a clear and brief manner." the catholic priest. price, cents. * * * * * [_from the "new york tablet."_] "the priest is measured in every light which the various obligations and phases of his sacred character throw around him. his mighty proportions on the world's stage are drawn with power, and thorough appreciation. not a single grade in his ministry but is educed with a fine distinctness, from the position in which he is the dear friend and adviser of his flock, up to that awful height in which he is permitted to touch, with his consecrated hands, the body and blood of his lord and god. written in a strain of fervent enthusiasm, it is, for catholics, a book to be read and cherished." * * * * * [_from the "pittsburgh catholic."_] "this is a small volume of pages. in it the learned author shows us how, by the institution of the sacred priesthood by our divine lord, the priest is constituted the light of the world, the salt of the earth, the guide, father and friend of the people, and the obligations the faithful are under to hearken to his counsels. we wish the volume an extensive sale." * * * * * the our father. vol. i. price, cents. public school education. price, $ . . * * * * * [_in press._] charity to souls in purgatory. _devotional, instructive, &c._ _the instruments of the passion of our lord jesus christ._ paper, cts. cloth. $ _catechism of the christian religion._ by rev. s. keenan. _instruction of youth._ by gobinet. _preparation for death._ by st. liguori. _instructions on the commandments._ by st. liguori. _reflections on spiritual subjects._ by st. liguori. _discourses addressed to mixed congregations._ by rev. j. h. newman. _wiseman's sermons on the devotion to the holy eucharist._ _the golden treasury._ _the imitation of christ._ by thomas a'kempis. from cts. to _treatise on prayer._ by st. liguori. _the spiritual combat._ _familiar instructions._ _river's manual._ _the rosary and scapular book._ _epistles and gospels for the festivals throughout the 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himself to the ante-bellum period. in fact, the accounts of the successful strivings of negroes for enlightenment under most adverse circumstances read like beautiful romances of a people in an heroic age. interesting as is this phase of the history of the american negro, it has as a field of profitable research attracted only m.b. goodwin, who published in the special report of the united states commissioner of education of an exhaustive _history of the schools for the colored population in the district of columbia_. in that same document was included a survey of the _legal status of the colored population in respect to schools and education in the different states_. but although the author of the latter collected a mass of valuable material, his report is neither comprehensive nor thorough. other publications touching this subject have dealt either with certain localities or special phases. yet evident as may be the failure of scholars to treat this neglected aspect of our history, the author of this dissertation is far from presuming that he has exhausted the subject. with the hope of vitally interesting some young master mind in this large task, the undersigned has endeavored to narrate in brief how benevolent teachers of both races strove to give the ante-bellum negroes the education through which many of them gained freedom in its highest and best sense. the author desires to acknowledge his indebtedness to dr. j.e. moorland, international secretary of the young men's christian association, for valuable information concerning the negroes of ohio. c.g. woodson. washington, d.c. _june , ._ contents chapter i.--introduction ii.--religion with letters iii.--education as a right of man iv.--actual education v.--better beginnings vi.--educating the urban negro vii.--the reaction viii.--religion without letters ix.--learning in spite of opposition x.--educating negroes transplanted to free soil xi.--higher education xii.--vocational training xiii.--education at public expense appendix: documents bibliography index the education of the negro prior to * * * * * chapter i introduction brought from the african wilds to constitute the laboring class of a pioneering society in the new world, the heathen slaves had to be trained to meet the needs of their environment. it required little argument to convince intelligent masters that slaves who had some conception of modern civilization and understood the language of their owners would be more valuable than rude men with whom one could not communicate. the questions, however, as to exactly what kind of training these negroes should have, and how far it should go, were to the white race then as much a matter of perplexity as they are now. yet, believing that slaves could not be enlightened without developing in them a longing for liberty, not a few masters maintained that the more brutish the bondmen the more pliant they become for purposes of exploitation. it was this class of slaveholders that finally won the majority of southerners to their way of thinking and determined that negroes should not be educated. the history of the education of the ante-bellum negroes, therefore, falls into two periods. the first extends from the time of the introduction of slavery to the climax of the insurrectionary movement about , when the majority of the people in this country answered in the affirmative the question whether or not it was prudent to educate their slaves. then followed the second period, when the industrial revolution changed slavery from a patriarchal to an economic institution, and when intelligent negroes, encouraged by abolitionists, made so many attempts to organize servile insurrections that the pendulum began to swing the other way. by this time most southern white people reached the conclusion that it was impossible to cultivate the minds of negroes without arousing overmuch self-assertion. the early advocates of the education of negroes were of three classes: first, masters who desired to increase the economic efficiency of their labor supply; second, sympathetic persons who wished to help the oppressed; and third, zealous missionaries who, believing that the message of divine love came equally to all, taught slaves the english language that they might learn the principles of the christian religion. through the kindness of the first class, slaves had their best chance for mental improvement. each slaveholder dealt with the situation to suit himself, regardless of public opinion. later, when measures were passed to prohibit the education of slaves, some masters, always a law unto themselves, continued to teach their negroes in defiance of the hostile legislation. sympathetic persons were not able to accomplish much because they were usually reformers, who not only did not own slaves, but dwelt in practically free settlements far from the plantations on which the bondmen lived. the spanish and french missionaries, the first to face this problem, set an example which influenced the education of the negroes throughout america. some of these early heralds of catholicism manifested more interest in the indians than in the negroes, and advocated the enslavement of the africans rather than that of the red men. but being anxious to see the negroes enlightened and brought into the church, they courageously directed their attention to the teaching of their slaves, provided for the instruction of the numerous mixed-breed offspring, and granted freedmen the educational privileges of the highest classes. put to shame by this noble example of the catholics, the english colonists had to find a way to overcome the objections of those who, granting that the enlightenment of the slaves might not lead to servile insurrection, nevertheless feared that their conversion might work manumission. to meet this exigency the colonists secured, through legislation by their assemblies and formal declarations of the bishop of london, the abrogation of the law that a christian could not be held as a slave. then allowed access to the bondmen, the missionaries of the church of england, sent out by the society for the propagation of the gospel among the heathen in foreign parts, undertook to educate the slaves for the purpose of extensive proselyting. contemporaneous with these early workers of the established church of england were the liberal puritans, who directed their attention to the conversion of the slaves long before this sect advocated abolition. many of this connection justified slavery as established by the precedent of the hebrews, but they felt that persons held to service should be instructed as were the servants of the household of abraham. the progress of the cause was impeded, however, by the bigoted class of puritans, who did not think well of the policy of incorporating undesirable persons into the church so closely connected then with the state. the first settlers of the american colonies to offer negroes the same educational and religious privileges they provided for persons of their own race, were the quakers. believing in the brotherhood of man and the fatherhood of god, they taught the colored people to read their own "instruction in the book of the law that they might be wise unto salvation." encouraging as was the aspect of things after these early efforts, the contemporary complaints about the neglect to instruct the slaves show that the cause lacked something to make the movement general. then came the days when the struggle for the rights of man was arousing the civilized world. after the nascent social doctrine found response among the american colonists. they looked with opened eyes at the negroes. a new day then dawned for the dark-skinned race. men like patrick henry and james otis, who demanded liberty for themselves, could not but concede that slaves were entitled at least to freedom of body. the frequent acts of manumission and emancipation which followed upon this change in attitude toward persons of color, turned loose upon society a large number of men whose chief needs were education and training in the duties of citizenship. to enlighten these freedmen schools, missions, and churches were established by benevolent and religious workers. these colaborers included at this time the baptists and methodists who, thanks to the spirit of toleration incident to the revolution, were allowed access to negroes bond and free. with all of these new opportunities negroes exhibited a rapid mental development. intelligent colored men proved to be useful and trustworthy servants; they became much better laborers and artisans, and many of them showed administrative ability adequate to the management of business establishments and large plantations. moreover, better rudimentary education served many ambitious persons of color as a stepping-stone to higher attainments. negroes learned to appreciate and write poetry and contributed something to mathematics, science, and philosophy. furthermore, having disproved the theories of their mental inferiority, some of the race, in conformity with the suggestion of cotton mather, were employed to teach white children. observing these evidences of a general uplift of the negroes, certain educators advocated the establishment of special colored schools. the founding of these institutions, however, must not be understood as a movement to separate the children of the races on account of caste prejudice. the dual system resulted from an effort to meet the needs peculiar to a people just emerging from bondage. it was easily seen that their education should no longer be dominated by religion. keeping the past of the negroes in mind, their friends tried to unite the benefits of practical and cultural education. the teachers of colored schools offered courses in the industries along with advanced work in literature, mathematics, and science. girls who specialized in sewing took lessons in french. so startling were the rapid strides made by the colored people in their mental development after the revolutionary era that certain southerners who had not seriously objected to the enlightenment of the negroes began to favor the half reactionary policy of educating them only on the condition that they should be colonized. the colonization movement, however, was supported also by some white men who, seeing the educational progress of the colored people during the period of better beginnings, felt that they should be given an opportunity to be transplanted to a free country where they might develop without restriction. timorous southerners, however, soon had other reasons for their uncharitable attitude. during the first quarter of the nineteenth century two effective forces were rapidly increasing the number of reactionaries who by public opinion gradually prohibited the education of the colored people in all places except certain urban communities where progressive negroes had been sufficiently enlightened to provide their own school facilities. the first of these forces was the worldwide industrial movement. it so revolutionized spinning and weaving that the resulting increased demand for cotton fiber gave rise to the plantation system of the south, which required a larger number of slaves. becoming too numerous to be considered as included in the body politic as conceived by locke, montesquieu, and blackstone, the slaves were generally doomed to live without any enlightenment whatever. thereafter rich planters not only thought it unwise to educate men thus destined to live on a plane with beasts, but considered it more profitable to work a slave to death during seven years and buy another in his stead than to teach and humanize him with a view to increasing his efficiency. the other force conducive to reaction was the circulation through intelligent negroes of antislavery accounts of the wrongs to colored people and the well portrayed exploits of toussaint l'ouverture. furthermore, refugees from haiti settled in baltimore, norfolk, charleston, and new orleans, where they gave negroes a first-hand story of how black men of the west indies had righted their wrongs. at the same time certain abolitionists and not a few slaveholders were praising, in the presence of slaves, the bloody methods of the french revolution. when this enlightenment became productive of such disorders that slaveholders lived in eternal dread of servile insurrection, southern states adopted the thoroughly reactionary policy of making the education of negroes impossible. the prohibitive legislation extended over a period of more than a century, beginning with the act of south carolina in . but with the exception of the action of this state and that of georgia the important measures which actually proscribed the teaching of negroes were enacted during the first four decades of the nineteenth century. the states attacked the problem in various ways. colored people beyond a certain number were not allowed to assemble for social or religious purposes, unless in the presence of certain "discreet" white men; slaves were deprived of the helpful contact of free persons of color by driving them out of some southern states; masters who had employed their favorite blacks in positions which required a knowledge of bookkeeping, printing, and the like, were commanded by law to discontinue that custom; and private and public teachers were prohibited from assisting negroes to acquire knowledge in any manner whatever. the majority of the people of the south had by this time come to the conclusion that, as intellectual elevation unfits men for servitude and renders it impossible to retain them in this condition, it should be interdicted. in other words, the more you cultivate the minds of slaves, the more unserviceable you make them; you give them a higher relish for those privileges which they cannot attain and turn what you intend for a blessing into a curse. if they are to remain in slavery they should be kept in the lowest state of ignorance and degradation, and the nearer you bring them to the condition of brutes the better chance they have to retain their apathy. it had thus been brought to pass that the measures enacted to prevent the education of negroes had not only forbidden association with their fellows for mutual help and closed up most colored schools in the south, but had in several states made it a crime for a negro to teach his own children. the contrast of conditions at the close of this period with those of former days is striking. most slaves who were once counted as valuable, on account of their ability to read and write the english language, were thereafter considered unfit for service in the south and branded as objects of suspicion. moreover, when within a generation or so the negroes began to retrograde because they had been deprived of every elevating influence, the white people of the south resorted to their old habit of answering their critics with the bold assertion that the effort to enlighten the blacks would prove futile on account of their mental inferiority. the apathy which these bondmen, inured to hardships, consequently developed was referred to as adequate evidence that they were content with their lot, and that any effort to teach them to know their real condition would be productive of mischief both to the slaves and their masters. the reactionary movement, however, was not confined to the south. the increased migration of fugitives and free negroes to the asylum of northern states, caused certain communities of that section to feel that they were about to be overrun by undesirable persons who could not be easily assimilated. the subsequent anti-abolition riots in the north made it difficult for friends of the negroes to raise funds to educate them. free persons of color were not allowed to open schools in some places, teachers of negroes were driven from their stations, and colored schoolhouses were burned. ashamed to play the role of a christian clergy guarding silence on the indispensable duty of saving the souls of the colored people, certain of the most influential southern ministers hit upon the scheme of teaching illiterate negroes the principles of christianity by memory training or the teaching of religion without letters. this the clergy were wont to call religious instruction. the word instruction, however, as used in various documents, is rather confusing. before the reactionary period all instruction of the colored people included the teaching of the rudiments of education as a means to convey christian thought. but with the exception of a few christians the southerners thereafter used the word instruction to signify the mere memorizing of principles from the most simplified books. the sections of the south in which the word instruction was not used in this restricted sense were mainly the settlements of quakers and catholics who, in defiance of the law, persisted in teaching negroes to read and write. yet it was not uncommon to find others who, after having unsuccessfully used their influence against the enactment of these reactionary laws, boldly defied them by instructing the negroes of their communities. often opponents to this custom winked at it as an indulgence to the clerical profession. many scotch-irish of the appalachian mountains and liberal methodists and baptists of the western slave states did not materially change their attitude toward the enlightenment of the colored people during the reactionary period. the negroes among these people continued to study books and hear religious instruction conveyed to maturing minds. yet little as seemed this enlightenment by means of verbal instruction, some slaveholders became sufficiently inhuman to object to it on the grounds that the teaching of religion would lead to the teaching of letters. in fact, by certain parts of the south reached the third stage in the development of the education of the negroes. at first they were taught the common branches to enable them to understand the principles of christianity; next the colored people as an enlightened class became such a menace to southern institutions that it was deemed unwise to allow them any instruction beyond that of memory training; and finally, when it was discovered that many ambitious blacks were still learning to stir up their fellows, it was decreed that they should not receive any instruction at all. reduced thus to the plane of beasts, where they remained for generations, negroes developed bad traits which since their emancipation have been removed only with great difficulty. dark as the future of the negro students seemed, all hope was not yet gone. certain white men in every southern community made it possible for many of them to learn in spite of opposition. slaveholders were not long in discovering that a thorough execution of the law was impossible when negroes were following practically all the higher pursuits of labor in the south. masters who had children known to be teaching slaves protected their benevolent sons and daughters from the rigors of the law. preachers, on finding out that the effort at verbal education could not convey christian truths to an undeveloped mind, overcame the opposition in their localities and taught the colored people as before. negroes themselves, regarding learning as forbidden fruit, stole away to secret places at night to study under the direction of friends. some learned by intuition without having had the guidance of an instructor. the fact is that these drastic laws were not passed to restrain "discreet" southerners from doing whatever they desired for the betterment of their negroes. the aim was to cut off their communication with northern teachers and abolitionists, whose activity had caused the south to believe that if such precaution were not taken these agents would teach their slaves principles subversive of southern institutions. thereafter the documents which mention the teaching of negroes to read and write seldom even state that the southern white teacher was so much as censured for his benevolence. in the rare cases of arrest of such instructors they were usually acquitted after receiving a reprimand. with this winking at the teaching of negroes in defiance of the law a better day for their education brightened certain parts of the south about the middle of the nineteenth century. believing that an enlightened laboring class might stop the decline of that section, some slaveholders changed their attitude toward the elevation of the colored people. certain others came to think that the policy of keeping negroes in ignorance to prevent servile insurrections was unwise. it was observed that the most loyal and subordinate slaves were those who could read the bible and learn the truth for themselves. private teachers of colored persons, therefore, were often left undisturbed, little effort was made to break up the negroes' secret schools in different parts, and many influential white men took it upon themselves to instruct the blacks who were anxious to learn. other negroes who had no such opportunities were then finding a way of escape through the philanthropy of those abolitionists who colonized some freedmen and fugitives in the northwest territory and promoted the migration of others to the east. these negroes were often fortunate. many of them settled where they could take up land and had access to schools and churches conducted by the best white people of the country. this migration, however, made matters worse for the negroes who were left in the south. as only the most enlightened blacks left the slave states, the bondmen and the indigent free persons of color were thereby deprived of helpful contact. the preponderance of intelligent negroes, therefore, was by on the side of the north. thereafter the actual education of the colored people was largely confined to eastern cities and northern communities of transplanted freedmen. the pioneers of these groups organized churches and established and maintained a number of successful elementary schools. in addition to providing for rudimentary instruction, the free negroes of the north helped their friends to make possible what we now call higher education. during the second quarter of the nineteenth century the advanced training of the colored people was almost prohibited by the refusals of academies and colleges to admit persons of african blood. in consequence of these conditions, the long-put-forth efforts to found negro colleges began to be crowned with success before the civil war. institutions of the north admitted negroes later for various reasons. some colleges endeavored to prepare them for service in liberia, while others, proclaiming their conversion to the doctrine of democratic education, opened their doors to all. the advocates of higher education, however, met with no little opposition. the concentration in northern communities of the crude fugitives driven from the south necessitated a readjustment of things. the training of negroes in any manner whatever was then very unpopular in many parts of the north. when prejudice, however, lost some of its sting, the friends of the colored people did more than ever for their education. but in view of the changed conditions most of these philanthropists concluded that the negroes were very much in need of practical education. educators first attempted to provide such training by offering classical and vocational courses in what they called the "manual labor schools." when these failed to meet the emergency they advocated actual vocational training. to make this new system extensive the negroes freely coöperated with their benefactors, sharing no small part of the real burden. they were at the same time paying taxes to support public schools which they could not attend. this very condition was what enabled the abolitionists to see that they had erred in advocating the establishment of separate schools for negroes. at first the segregation of pupils of african blood was, as stated above, intended as a special provision to bring the colored youth into contact with sympathetic teachers, who knew the needs of their students. when the public schools, however, developed at the expense of the state into a desirable system better equipped than private institutions, the antislavery organizations in many northern states began to demand that the negroes be admitted to the public schools. after extensive discussion certain states of new england finally decided the question in the affirmative, experiencing no great inconvenience from the change. in most other states of the north, however, separate schools for negroes did not cease to exist until after the civil war. it was the liberated negroes themselves who, during the reconstruction, gave the southern states their first effective system of free public schools. chapter ii religion with letters the first real educators to take up the work of enlightening american negroes were clergymen interested in the propagation of the gospel among the heathen of the new world. addressing themselves to this task, the missionaries easily discovered that their first duty was to educate these crude elements to enable them not only to read the truth for themselves, but to appreciate the supremacy of the christian religion. after some opposition slaves were given the opportunity to take over the christian civilization largely because of the adverse criticism[ ] which the apostles to the lowly heaped upon the planters who neglected the improvement of their negroes. made then a device for bringing the blacks into the church, their education was at first too much dominated by the teaching of religion. [footnote : bourne, _spain in america_, p. ; and _the penn. mag. of history_, xii., .] many early advocates of slavery favored the enlightenment of the africans. that it was an advantage to the negroes to be brought within the light of the gospel was a common argument in favor of the slave trade.[ ] when the german protestants from salsburg had scruples about enslaving men, they were assured by a message from home stating that if they took slaves in faith and with the intention of conducting them to christ, the action would not be a sin, but might prove a benediction.[ ] this was about the attitude of spain. the missionary movement seemed so important to the king of that country that he at first allowed only christian slaves to be brought to america, hoping that such persons might serve as apostles to the indians.[ ] the spaniards adopted a different policy, however, when they ceased their wild search for an "el dorado" and became permanently attached to the community. they soon made settlements and opened mines which they thought required the introduction of slavery. thus becoming commercialized, these colonists experienced a greed which, disregarding the consequences of the future, urged the importation of all classes of slaves to meet the demand for cheap labor.[ ] this request was granted by the king of spain, but the masters of such bondmen were expressly ordered to have them indoctrinated in the principles of christianity. it was the failure of certain spaniards to live up to these regulations that caused the liberal-minded jesuit, alphonso sandoval, to register the first protest against slavery in america.[ ] in later years the change in the attitude of the spaniards toward this problem was noted. in mexico the ayuntamientos were under the most rigid responsibility to see that free children born of slaves received the best education that could be given them. they had to place them "for that purpose at the public schools and other places of instruction wherein they" might "become useful to society."[ ] [footnote : proslavery argument; and lecky, _history of england_, vol. ii., p. .] [footnote : faust, _german element in united states_, vol. i., pp. - .] [footnote : bancroft, _history of united states_, vol. i., p. .] [footnote : herrera, _historia general_, dec. iv., libro ii.; dec. v., libro ii.; dec. vii., libro iv.] [footnote : bourne, _spain in america_, p. .] [footnote : _special report u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] in the french settlements of america the instruction of the negroes did not early become a difficult problem. there were not many negroes among the french. their methods of colonization did not require many slaves. nevertheless, whenever the french missionary came into contact with negroes he considered it his duty to enlighten the unfortunates and lead them to god. as early as paul le jeune, a jesuit missionary in canada, rejoiced that he had again become a real preceptor in that he was teaching a little negro the alphabet. le jeune hoped to baptize his pupil as soon as he learned sufficient to understand the christian doctrine.[ ] moreover, evidence of a general interest in the improvement of negroes appeared in the code noir which made it incumbent upon masters to enlighten their slaves that they might grasp the principles of the christian religion.[ ] to carry out this mandate slaves were sometimes called together with white settlers. the meeting was usually opened with prayer and the reading of some pious book, after which the french children were turned over to one catechist, and the slaves and indians to another. if a large number of slaves were found in the community their special instruction was provided for in meetings of their own.[ ] [footnote : _jesuit relations_, vol. v., p. .] [footnote : code noir, p. .] [footnote : _jesuit relations_, vol. v., p. .] after , when jesuits were taking over slaves in larger numbers, and especially after , when law's company was importing many to meet the demand for laborers in louisiana, we read of more instances of the instruction of negroes by french catholics.[ ] writing about this task in , le petit spoke of being "settled to the instruction of the boarders, the girls who live without, and the negro women."[ ] in he said, "i instruct in christian morals the slaves of our residence, who are negroes, and as many others as i can get from their masters."[ ] years later françois philibert watrum, seeing that some jesuits had on their estates one hundred and thirty slaves, inquired why the instruction of the indian and negro serfs of the french did not give these missionaries sufficient to do.[ ] hoping to enable the slaves to elevate themselves, certain inhabitants of the french colonies requested of their king a decree protecting their title to property in such bondmen as they might send to france to be confirmed in their instruction and in the exercise of their religion, and to have them learn some art or trade from which the colonies might receive some benefit by their return from the mother country. [footnote : _ibid_., vol. lxvii., pp. and .] [footnote : _ibid_., vol. lxviii., p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., vol. lxix., p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., vol. lxx., p. .] the education of negroes was facilitated among the french and spanish by their liberal attitude toward their slaves. many of them were respected for their worth and given some of the privileges of freemen. estevanecito, an enlightened slave sent by niza, the spanish adventurer, to explore arizona, was a favored servant of this class.[ ] the latin custom of miscegenation proved to be a still more important factor in the education of negroes in the colonies. as the french and spanish came to america for the purpose of exploitation, leaving their wives behind, many of them, by cohabiting with and marrying colored women, gave rise to an element of mixed breeds. this was especially true of the spanish settlements. they had more persons of this class than any other colonies in america. the latins, in contradistinction to the english, generally liberated their mulatto offspring and sometimes recognized them as their equals. such negroes constituted a class of persons who, although they could not aspire to the best in the colony, had a decided advantage over other inhabitants of color. they often lived in luxury, and, of course, had a few social privileges. the code noir granted freedmen the same rights, privileges, and immunities as those enjoyed by persons born free, with the view that the accomplishment of acquired liberty should have on the former the same effect that the happiness of natural liberty caused in other subjects.[ ] as these mixed breeds were later lost, so to speak, among the latins, it is almost impossible to determine what their circumstances were, and what advantages of education they had. [footnote : bancroft, _arizona and new mexico_, pp. - .] [footnote : the code noir obliged every planter to have his negroes instructed and baptized. it allowed the slave for instruction, worship, and rest not only every sunday, but every festival usually observed by the roman catholic church. it did not permit any market to be held on sundays or holidays. it prohibited, under severe penalties, all masters and managers from corrupting their female slaves. it did not allow the negro husband, wife, or infant children to be sold separately. it forbade them the use of torture, or immoderate and inhuman punishments. it obliged the owners to maintain their old and decrepit slaves. if the negroes were not fed and clothed as the law prescribed, or if they were in any way cruelly treated, they might apply to the procureur, who was obliged by his office to protect them. see code noir, pp. - .] the spanish and french were doing so much more than the english to enlighten their slaves that certain teachers and missionaries in the british colonies endeavored more than ever to arouse their countrymen to discharge their duty to those they held in bondage. these reformers hoped to do this by holding up to the members of the anglican church the praiseworthy example of the catholics whom the british had for years denounced as enemies of christ. the criticism had its effect. but to prosecute this work extensively the english had to overcome the difficulty found in the observance of the unwritten law that no christian could be held a slave. now, if the teaching of slaves enabled them to be converted and their christianization led to manumission, the colonists had either to let the institution gradually pass away or close all avenues of information to the minds of their negroes. the necessity of choosing either of these alternatives was obviated by the enactment of provincial statutes and formal declarations by the bishop of london to the effect that conversion did not work manumission.[ ] after the solution of this problem english missionaries urged more vigorously upon the colonies the duty of instructing the slaves. among the active churchmen working for this cause were rev. morgan goodwyn and bishops fleetwood, lowth, and sanderson.[ ] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] [footnote : on observing that laws had been passed in virginia to prevent slaves from attending the meetings of quakers for purposes of being instructed, morgan goodwyn registered a most earnest protest. he felt that prompt attention should be given to the instruction of the slaves to prevent the church from falling into discredit, and to obviate the causes for blasphemy on the part of the enemies of the church who would not fail to point out that ministers sent to the remotest parts had failed to convert the heathen. therefore, he preached in westminster abbey in a sermon "to stir up and provoke" his "majesty's subjects abroad, and even at home, to use endeavors for the propagation of christianity among their domestic slaves and vassals." he referred to the spreading of mammonism and irreligion by which efforts to instruct and christianize the heathen were paralyzed. he deplored the fact that the slaves who were the subjects of such instruction became the victims of still greater cruelty, while the missionaries who endeavored to enlighten them were neglected and even persecuted by the masters. they considered the instruction of the negroes an impracticable and needless work of popish superstition, and a policy subversive of the interests of slaveholders. bishop sanderson found it necessary to oppose this policy of virginia which had met the denunciation of goodwyn. in strongly emphasizing this duty of masters, bishop fleetwood moved the hearts of many planters of north carolina to allow missionaries access to their slaves. many of them were thereafter instructed and baptized. see goodwyn, _the negroes and indians' advocate_; hart, _history told by contemporaries_, vol. i., no. ; _special rep. u.s. com. of ed._, , p. ; _an account of the endeavors of the soc._, etc., p. .] complaints from men of this type led to systematic efforts to enlighten the blacks. the first successful scheme for this purpose came from the society for the propagation of the gospel in foreign parts. it was organized by the members of the established church in london in [ ] to do missionary work among indians and negroes. to convert the heathen they sent out not only ministers but schoolmasters. they were required to instruct the children, to teach them to read the scriptures and other poems and useful books, to ground them thoroughly in the church catechism, and to repeat "morning and evening prayers and graces composed for their use at home."[ ] [footnote : pascoe, _classified digest of the records of the society for the propagation of the gospel in foreign parts_, p. .] [footnote : dalcho, _an historical account of the protestant episcopal church in south carolina_, p. ; _special rep. u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] the first active schoolmaster of this class was rev. samuel thomas of goose creek parish in south carolina. he took up this work there in , and in could count among his communicants twenty negroes, who with several others "well understanding the english tongue" could read and write.[ ] rev. mr. thomas said: "i have here presumed to give an account of one thousand slaves so far as they know of it and are desirous of christian knowledge and seem willing to prepare themselves for it, in learning to read, for which they redeem the time from their labor. many of them can read the bible distinctly, and great numbers of them were learning when i left the province."[ ] but not only had this worker enlightened many negroes in his parish, but had enlisted in the work several ladies, among whom was mrs. haig edwards. the rev. mr. taylor, already interested in the cause, hoped that other masters and mistresses would follow the example of mrs. edwards.[ ] [footnote : meriwether, _education in south carolina_, p. ]. [footnote : _special rep. u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] [footnote : _an account of the endeavors used by the society for the propagation of the gospel in foreign parts_, pp. - .] through the efforts of the same society another school was opened in new york city in under elias neau.[ ] this benefactor is commonly known as the first to begin such an institution for the education of negroes; but the school in goose creek parish, south carolina, was in operation at least nine years earlier. at first neau called the negroes together after their daily toil was over and taught them at his house. by he was instructing thus as many as two hundred. neau's school owes its importance to the fact that not long after its beginning certain negroes who organized themselves to kill off their masters were accredited as students of this institution. for this reason it was immediately closed.[ ] when upon investigating the causes of the insurrection, however, it was discovered that only one person connected with the institution had taken part in the struggle, the officials of the colony permitted neau to continue his work and extended him their protection. after having been of invaluable service to the negroes of new york this school was closed in by the death of its founder. the work of neau, however, was taken up by mr. huddlestone. rev. mr. wetmore entered the field in . later there appeared rev. mr. colgan and noxon, both of whom did much to promote the cause. in came rev. mr. charlton who toiled in this field until when he was succeeded by rev. mr. auchmutty. he had the coöperation of mr. hildreth, the assistant of his predecessor. much help was obtained from rev. mr. barclay who, at the death of mr. vesey in , became the rector of the parish supporting the school.[ ] [footnote : _an account of the endeavors used by the society for the propagation of the gospel in foreign parts_, pp. - .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] [footnote : _special report u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] the results obtained in the english colonies during the early period show that the agitation for the enlightenment of the negroes spread not only wherever these unfortunates were found, but claimed the attention of the benevolent far away. bishop wilson of sodor and man, active in the cause during the first half of the eighteenth century, availed himself of the opportunity to aid those missionaries who were laboring in the colonies for the instruction of the indians and negroes. in he published a pamphlet written in on the _principles and duties of christianity in their direct bearing on the uplift of the heathen_. to teach by example he further aided this movement by giving fifty pounds for the education of colored children in talbot county, maryland.[ ] [footnote : _ibid._, , p. .] after some opposition this work began to progress somewhat in virginia.[ ] the first school established in that colony was for indians and negroes.[ ] in the course of time the custom of teaching the latter had legal sanction there. on binding out a "bastard or pauper child black or white," churchwardens specifically required that he should be taught "to read, write, and calculate as well as to follow some profitable form of labor."[ ] other negroes also had an opportunity to learn. reports of an increase in the number of colored communicants came from accomac county where four or five hundred families were instructing their slaves at home, and had their children catechized on sunday. unusual interest in the cause at lambeth, in the same colony, is attested by an interesting document, setting forth in a proposition for "_encouraging the christian education of indian, negro, and mulatto children_." the author declares it to be the duty of masters and mistresses of america to endeavor to educate and instruct their heathen slaves in the christian faith, and mentioned the fact that this work had been "earnestly recommended by his majesty's instructions." to encourage the movement it was proposed that "every indian, negro and mulatto child that should be baptized and afterward brought into the church and publicly catechized by the minister, and should before the fourteenth year of his or her age give a distinct account of the creed, the lord's prayer, and the ten commandments," should receive from the minister a certificate which would entitle such children to exemption from paying all levies until the age of eighteen.[ ] the neighboring colony of north carolina also was moved by these efforts despite some difficulties which the missionaries there encountered.[ ] [footnote : meade, _old families and churches in virginia_, p. ; plumer, _thoughts on the religious instruction of negroes_, pp. - .] [footnote : monroe, _cyclopaedia of education_, vol. iv., p. .] [footnote : russell, _the free negro in virginia_, in j.h.u. studies, series xxxi., no. , p. .] [footnote : meade, _old families and churches in virginia_, pp. - .] [footnote : ashe, _history of north carolina_, pp. - .] this favorable attitude toward the people of color, and the successful work among them, caused the opponents of this policy to speak out boldly against their enlightenment. some asserted that the negroes were such stubborn creatures that there could be no such close dealing with them, and that even when converted they became saucier than pious. others maintained that these bondmen were so ignorant and indocile, so far gone in their wickedness, so confirmed in their habit of evil ways, that it was vain to undertake to teach them such knowledge. less cruel slaveholders had thought of getting out of the difficulty by the excuse that the instruction of negroes required more time and labor than masters could well spare from their business. then there were others who frankly confessed that, being an ignorant and unlearned people themselves, they could not teach others.[ ] [footnote : for a summary of this argument see meade, _four sermons of reverend bacon_, pp. - ; also, _a letter to an american planter from his friend in london_, p. .] seeing that many leading planters had been influenced by those opposed to the enlightenment of negroes, bishop gibson of london issued an appeal in behalf of the bondmen, addressing the clergy and laymen in two letters[ ] published in london in . in one he exhorted masters and mistresses of families to encourage and promote the instruction of their negroes in the christian faith. in the other epistle he directed the missionaries of the colonies to give to this work whatever assistance they could. writing to the slaveholders, he took the position that considering the greatness of the profit from the labor of the slaves it might be hoped that all masters, those especially who were possessed of considerable numbers, should be at some expense in providing for the instruction of those poor creatures. he thought that others who did not own so many should share in the expense of maintaining for them a common teacher. [footnote : _an account of the endeavors used by the society for the propagation of the gospel in foreign parts_, pp. , , and ; and dalcho, _an historical account_, etc., pp. et seq.] equally censorious of these neglectful masters was reverend thomas bacon, the rector of the parish church in talbot county, maryland. in he set forth his protest in four sermons on "the great and indispensable duty of all christian masters to bring up their slaves in the knowledge and fear of god."[ ] contending that slaves should enjoy rights like those of servants in the household of the patriarchs, bacon insisted that next to one's children and brethren by blood, one's servants, and especially one's slaves, stood in the nearest relation to him, and that in return for their drudgery the master owed it to his bondmen to have them enlightened. he believed that the reading and explaining of the holy scriptures should be made a stated duty. in the course of time the place of catechist in each family might be supplied out of the intelligent slaves by choosing such among them as were best taught to instruct the rest.[ ] he was of the opinion, too, that were some of the slaves taught to read, were they sent to school for that purpose when young, were they given the new testament and other good books to be read at night to their fellow-servants, such a course would vastly increase their knowledge of god and direct their minds to a serious thought of futurity.[ ] [footnote : meade, _sermons of thomas bacon_, pp. et seq.] [footnote : meade, _sermons of thomas bacon_, pp. _et seq._] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] with almost equal zeal did bishops williams and butler plead the same cause.[ ] they deplored the fact that because of their dark skins negro slaves were treated as a species different from the rest of mankind. denouncing the more cruel treatment of slaves as cattle, unfit for mental and moral improvement, these churchmen asserted that the highest property possible to be acquired in servants could not cancel the obligation to take care of the religious instruction of those who "despicable as they are in the eyes of man are nevertheless the creatures of god."[ ] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed_., , p. .] on account of these appeals made during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries a larger number of slaves of the english colonies were thereafter treated as human beings capable of mental, moral, and spiritual development. some masters began to provide for the improvement of these unfortunates, not because they loved them, but because instruction would make them more useful to the community. a much more effective policy of negro education was brought forward in by bishop secker.[ ] he suggested the employment of young negroes prudently chosen to teach their countrymen. to carry out such a plan he had already sent a missionary to africa. besides instructing negroes at his post of duty, this apostle sent three african natives to england where they were educated for the work.[ ] it was doubtless the sentiment of these leaders that caused dr. brearcroft to allude to this project in a discourse before the society for the propagation of the gospel in foreign parts in .[ ] [footnote : secker, _works_, vol. v., p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., vol. vi., p. .] [footnote : _an account of the endeavors used by the society for the propagation of the gospel in foreign parts_, p. .] this organization hit upon the plan of purchasing two negroes named harry and andrew, and of qualifying them by thorough instruction in the principles of christianity and the fundamentals of education, to serve as schoolmasters to their people. under the direction of rev. mr. garden, the missionary who had directed the training of these young men, a building costing about three hundred and eight pounds was erected in charleston, south carolina. in the school which opened in this building in harry and andrew served as teachers.[ ] in the beginning the school had about sixty young students, and had a very good daily attendance for a number of years. the directors of the institution planned to send out annually between thirty and forty youths "well instructed in religion and capable of reading their bibles to carry home and diffuse the same knowledge to their fellow slaves."[ ] it is highly probable that after this school was attended only by free persons of color. because the progress of negro education had been rather rapid, south carolina enacted that year a law prohibiting any person from teaching or causing a slave to be taught, or from employing or using a slave as a scribe in any manner of writing. [footnote : meriwether, _education in south carolina_, p. ; mccrady, _south carolina_, etc., p. ; dalcho, _an historical account of the protestant episcopal church in south carolina_, pp. , , .] [footnote : _ibid_., pp. and .] in the charleston school was closed for reasons which it is difficult to determine. from one source we learn that one of the teachers died, and the other having turned out profligate, no instructors could be found to continue the work. it does not seem that the sentiment against the education of free negroes had by that time become sufficiently strong to cause the school to be discontinued.[ ] it is evident, however, that with the assistance of influential persons of different communities the instruction of slaves continued in that colony. writing about the middle of the eighteenth century, eliza lucas, a lady of south carolina, who afterward married justice pinckney, mentions a parcel of little negroes whom she had undertaken to teach to read.[ ] [footnote : _an account of the endeavors used by the society for the propagation of the gospel in foreign parts_, p. .] [footnote : bourne, _spain in america_, p. .] the work of the society for the propagation of the gospel in foreign parts was also effective in communities of the north in which the established church of england had some standing. in reverend hugh neill, once a presbyterian minister of new jersey, became a missionary of this organization to the negroes of pennsylvania. he worked among them fifteen years. dr. smith, provost of the college of philadelphia, devoted a part of his time to the work, and at the death of neill in enlisted as a regular missionary of the society.[ ] it seems, however, that prior to the eighteenth century not much had been done to enlighten the slaves of that colony, although free persons of color had been instructed. rev. mr. wayman, another missionary to pennsylvania about the middle of the eighteenth century, asserted that "neither" was "there anywhere care taken for the instruction of negro slaves," the duty to whom he had "pressed upon masters with little effect."[ ] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] [footnote : wickersham, _history of education in pennsylvania_, p. .] to meet this need the society set the example of maintaining catechetical lectures for negroes in st. peter's and christ church of philadelphia, during the incumbency of dr. jennings from to . william sturgeon, a student of yale, selected to do this work, was sent to london for ordination and placed in charge in .[ ] in this position rev. mr. sturgeon remained nineteen years, rendering such satisfactory services in the teaching of negroes that he deserves to be recorded as one of the first benefactors of the negro race. [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] antedating this movement in pennsylvania were the efforts of reverend dr. thomas bray. in he was sent to maryland by the bishop of london on an ecclesiastical mission to do what he could toward the conversion of adult negroes and the education of their children.[ ] bray's most influential supporter was m. d'alone, the private secretary of king william. d'alone gave for the maintenance of the cause a fund, the proceeds of which were first used for the employment of colored catechists, and later for the support of the thomas bray mission after the catechists had failed to give satisfaction. at the death of this missionary the task was taken up by certain followers of the good man, known as the "associates of doctor bray."[ ] they extended their work beyond the confines of maryland. in two schools for the education of negroes were maintained in philadelphia by these benefactors. it was the aid obtained from the dr. bray fund that enabled the abolitionists to establish in that city a permanent school which continued for almost a hundred years.[ ] about the close of the french and indian war, rev. mr. stewart, a missionary in north carolina, found there a school for the education of indians and free negroes, conducted by dr. bray's associates. the example of these men appealing to him as a wise policy, he directed to it the attention of the clergy at home.[ ] [footnote : _ibid_., p. ; smyth, _works of franklin_, vol. iv., p. ; and vol. v., p. .] [footnote : smyth, _works of franklin_, vol. v., p. .] [footnote : wickersham, _history of education in pennsylvania_, p. .] [footnote : bassett, _slavery and servitude in north carolina_, johns hopkins university studies, vol. xv., p. .] not many slaves were found among the puritans, but the number sufficed to bring the question of their instruction before these colonists almost as prominently as we have observed it was brought in the case of the members of the established church of england. despite the fact that the puritans developed from the calvinists, believers in the doctrine of election which swept away all class distinction, this sect did not, like the quakers, attack slavery as an institution. yet if the quakers were the first of the protestants to protest against the buying and selling of souls, new england divines were among the first to devote attention to the mental, moral, and spiritual development of negroes.[ ] in john eliot objected to the indian slave trade, not because of the social degradation, but for the reason that he desired that his countrymen "should follow christ his designe in this matter to promote the free passage of religion" among them. he further said: "for to sell souls for money seemeth to me to be dangerous merchandise, to sell away from all means of grace whom christ hath provided means of grace for you is the way for us to be active in destroying their souls when they are highly obliged to seek their conversion and salvation." eliot bore it grievously that the souls of the slaves were "exposed by their masters to a destroying ignorance meerly for the fear of thereby losing the benefit of their vassalage."[ ] [footnote : _pennsylvania magazine of history_, vol. xiii., p. .] [footnote : locke, _anti-slavery before _, p. ; mather, _life of john eliot_, p. ; _new plymouth colony records_, vol. x., p. .] further interest in the work was manifested by cotton mather. he showed his liberality in his professions published in in a set of _rules for the society of negroes_, intended to present the claims of the despised race to the benefits of religious instruction.[ ] mather believed that servants were in a sense like one's children, and that their masters should train and furnish them with bibles and other religious books for which they should be given time to read. he maintained that servants should be admitted to the religious exercises of the family and was willing to employ such of them as were competent to teach his children lessons of piety. coming directly to the issue of the day, mather deplored the fact that the several plantations which lived upon the labor of their negroes were guilty of the "prodigious wickedness of deriding, neglecting, and opposing all due means of bringing the poor negroes unto god." he hoped that the masters, of whom god would one day require the souls of slaves committed to their care, would see to it that like abraham they have catechised servants. they were not to imagine that the "almighty god made so many thousands reasonable creatures for nothing but only to serve the lusts of epicures, or the gains of mammonists."[ ] [footnote : locke, _anti-slavery_, etc., p. .] [footnote : meade, _sermons of thomas bacon_, p. _et seq_.] the sentiment of the clergy of this epoch was more directly expressed by richard baxter, the noted nonconformist, in his "directions to masters in foreign plantations," incorporated as rules into the _christian directory_.[ ] baxter believed in natural liberty and the equality of man, and justified slavery only on the ground of "necessitated consent" or captivity in lawful war. for these reasons he felt that they that buy slaves and "use them as beasts for their meer commodity, and betray, or destroy or neglect their souls are fitter to be called incarnate devils than christians, though they be no christians whom they so abuse."[ ] his aim here, however, is not to abolish the institution of slavery but to enlighten the africans and bring them into the church.[ ] exactly what effect baxter had on this movement cannot be accurately figured out. the fact, however, that his creed was extensively adhered to by the protestant colonists among whom his works were widely read, leads us to think that he influenced some masters to change their attitude toward their slaves. [footnote : baxter, _practical works_, vol. i., p. .] [footnote : baxter, _practical works_, vol. i., p. - .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] the next puritan of prominence who enlisted among the helpers of the african slaves was chief justice sewall, of massachusetts. in he stirred his section by publishing his _selling of joseph_, a distinctly anti-slavery pamphlet, based on the natural and inalienable right of every man to be free.[ ] the appearance of this publication marked an epoch in the history of the negroes. it was the first direct attack on slavery in new england. the puritan clergy had formerly winked at the continuation of the institution, provided the masters were willing to give the slaves religious instruction. in the _selling of joseph_ sewall had little to say about their mental and moral improvement, but in the _athenian oracle_, which expressed his sentiments so well that he had it republished in ,[ ] he met more directly the problem of elevating the negro race. taking up this question, sewall said: "there's yet less doubt that those who are of age to answer for themselves would soon learn the principles of our faith, and might be taught the obligation of the vow they made in baptism, and there's little doubt but abraham instructed his heathen servants who were of age to learn, the nature of circumcision before he circumcised them; nor can we conclude much less from god's own noble testimony of him, 'i know him that he will command his children and his household, and they shall keep the way of the lord.'"[ ] sewall believed that the emancipation of the slaves should be promoted to encourage negroes to become christians. he could not understand how any christian could hinder or discourage them from learning the principles of the christian religion and embracing the faith. [footnote : moore, _notes on slavery in massachusetts_, p. .] [footnote : moore, _notes on slavery in massachusetts_, p. ; locke, _anti-slavery_, etc., p. .] [footnote : moore, _notes on slavery_, etc., p. ; _the athenian oracle_, vol. ii., pp. _et seq_.] this interest shown in the negro race was in no sense general among the puritans of that day. many of their sect could not favor such proselyting,[ ] which, according to their system of government, would have meant the extension to the slaves of social and political privileges. it was not until the french provided that masters should take their slaves to church and have them indoctrinated in the catholic faith, that the proposition was seriously considered by many of the puritans. they, like the anglicans, felt sufficient compunction of conscience to take steps to christianize the slaves, lest the catholics, whom they had derided as undesirable churchmen, should put the protestants to shame.[ ] the publication of the code noir probably influenced the instructions sent out from england to his majesty's governors requiring them "with the assistance of our council to find out the best means to facilitate and encourage the conversion of negroes and indians to the christian religion." everly subsequently mentions in his diary the passing of a resolution by the council board at windsor or whitehall, recommending that the blacks in plantations be baptized, and meting out severe censure to those who opposed this policy.[ ] [footnote : moore, _notes on slavery_, etc., p. .] [footnote : this good example of the catholics was in later years often referred to by bishop porteus. _works of bishop porteus_, vol. vi, pp. , , , , ; moore, _notes on slavery_, etc., p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] more effective than the efforts of other sects in the enlightenment of the negroes was the work of the quakers, despite the fact that they were not free to extend their operations throughout the colonies. just as the colored people are indebted to the quakers for registering in the first protest against slavery in protestant america, so are they indebted to this denomination for the earliest permanent and well-developed schools devoted to the education of their race. as the quakers believed in the freedom of the will, human brotherhood, and equality before god, they did not, like the puritans, find difficulties in solving the problem of enlightening the negroes. while certain puritans were afraid that conversion might lead to the destruction of caste and the incorporation of undesirable persons into the "body politick," the quakers proceeded on the principle that all men are brethren and, being equal before god, should be considered equal before the law. on account of unduly emphasizing the relation of man to god the puritans "atrophied their social humanitarian instinct" and developed into a race of self-conscious saints. believing in human nature and laying stress upon the relation between man and man the quakers became the friends of all humanity. far from the idea of getting rid of an undesirable element by merely destroying the institution which supplied it, the quakers endeavored to teach the negro to be a man capable of discharging the duties of citizenship. as early as their attention was directed to this important matter by george fox.[ ] in he spoke out more boldly, entreating his sect to instruct and teach their indians and negroes "how that christ, by the grace of god, tasted death for every man."[ ] other quakers of prominence did not fail to drive home this thought. in george keith, a leading quaker of his day, came forward as a promoter of the religious training of the slaves as a preparation for emancipation.[ ] william penn advocated the emancipation of slaves,[ ] that they might have every opportunity for improvement. in the quakers, while protesting against the slave trade, denounced also the policy of neglecting their moral and spiritual welfare.[ ] the growing interest of this sect in the negroes was shown later by the development in of a definite scheme for freeing and returning them to africa after having been educated and trained to serve as missionaries on that continent.[ ] [footnote : quaker pamphlet, p. ; moore, _anti-slavery_, etc., p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, p. .] [footnote : rhodes, _history of the united states_, vol. i., p. ; bancroft, _history of the united states_, vol. ii., p. .] [footnote : locke, _anti-slavery_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] the inevitable result of this liberal attitude toward the negroes was that the quakers of those colonies where other settlers were so neglectful of the enlightenment of the colored race, soon found themselves at war with the leaders of the time. in slaveholding communities the quakers were persecuted, not necessarily because they adhered to a peculiar faith, not primarily because they had manners and customs unacceptable to the colonists, but because in answering the call of duty to help all men they incurred the ill will of the masters who denounced them as undesirable persons, bringing into america spurious doctrines subversive of the institutions of the aristocratic settlements. their experience in the colony of virginia is a good example of how this worked out. seeing the unchristian attitude of the preachers in most parts of that colony, the quakers inquired of them, "who made you ministers of the gospel to white people only, and not to the tawny and blacks also?"[ ] to show the nakedness of the neglectful clergy there some of this faith manifested such zeal in teaching and preaching to the negroes that their enemies demanded legislation to prevent them from gaining ascendancy over the minds of the slaves. accordingly, to make the colored people of that colony inaccessible to these workers it was deemed wise in to enact a law prohibiting members of that sect from taking negroes to their meetings. in the colony enacted another measure excluding quakers from the teaching profession by providing that no person should be allowed to keep a school in virginia unless he had taken the oath of allegiance and supremacy.[ ] of course, it was inconsistent with the spirit and creed of the quakers to take this oath. [footnote : quaker pamphlet, p. .] [footnote : hening, _statutes at large_, vol. i., ; ii., , , , , , and . _special report of the u.s. com. of ed_., , p. .] the settlers of north carolina followed the same procedure to check the influence of quakers, who spoke there in behalf of the man of color as fearlessly as they had in virginia. the apprehension of the dominating element was such that governor tryon had to be instructed to prohibit from teaching in that colony any person who had not a license from the bishop of london.[ ] although this order was seemingly intended to protect the faith and doctrine of the anglican church, rather than to prevent the education of negroes, it operated to lessen their chances for enlightenment, since missionaries from the established church did not reach all parts of the colony.[ ] the quakers of north carolina, however, had local schools and actually taught slaves. some of these could read and write as early as . thereafter, household servants were generally given the rudiments of an english education. [footnote : ashe, _history of north carolina_, vol. i., p. . the same instructions were given to governor francis nicholson.] [footnote : _ibid_., pp. , .] it was in the settlements of new jersey, pennsylvania, and new york that the quakers encountered less opposition in carrying out their policy of cultivating the minds of colored people. among these friends the education of negroes became the handmaiden of the emancipation movement. while john hepburn, william burling, elihu coleman, and ralph sandiford largely confined their attacks to the injustice of keeping slaves, benjamin lay was working for their improvement as a prerequisite of emancipation.[ ] lay entreated the friends to "bring up the negroes to some learning, reading and writing and" to "endeavor to the utmost of their power in the sweet love of truth to instruct and teach 'em the principles of truth and religiousness, and learn some honest trade or imployment and then set them free. and," says he, "all the time friends are teaching of them let them know that they intend to let them go free in a very reasonable time; and that our religious principles will not allow of such severity, as to keep them in everlasting bondage and slavery."[ ] [footnote : locke, _anti-slavery_, etc., p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] the struggle of the northern quakers to enlighten the colored people had important local results. a strong moral force operated in the minds of most of this sect to impel them to follow the example of certain leaders who emancipated their slaves.[ ] efforts in this direction were redoubled about the middle of the eighteenth century when anthony benezet,[ ] addressing himself with unwonted zeal to the uplift of these unfortunates, obtained the assistance of clarkson and others, who solidified the antislavery sentiment of the quakers and influenced them to give their time and means to the more effective education of the blacks. after this period the quakers were also concerned with the improvement of the colored people's condition in other settlements.[ ] [footnote : dr. dubois gives a good account of these efforts in his _suppression of the african slave trade_.] [footnote : benezet was a french protestant. persecuted on account of their religion, his parents moved from france to england and later to philadelphia. he became a teacher in that city in . thirteen years later he was teaching a school established for the education of the daughters of the most distinguished families in philadelphia. he was then using his own spelling-book, primer, and grammar, some of the first text-books published in america. known to persecution himself, benezet always sympathized with the oppressed. accordingly, he connected himself with the quakers, who at that time had before them the double task of fighting for religious equality and the amelioration of the condition of the negroes. becoming interested in the welfare of the colored race, benezet first attacked the slave trade, so exposing it in his speeches and writings that clarkson entered the field as an earnest advocate of the suppression of the iniquitous traffic. see benezet, _observations_, p. , and the _african repository_, vol. iv., p. .] [footnote : quaker pamphlet, p. .] what the other sects did for the enlightenment of negroes during this period, was not of much importance. as the presbyterians, methodists, and baptists did not proselyte extensively in this country prior to the middle of the eighteenth century, these denominations had little to do with negro education before the liberalism and spirit of toleration, developed during the revolutionary era, made it possible for these sects to reach the people. the methodists, however, confined at first largely to the south, where most of the slaves were found, had to take up this problem earlier. something looking like an attempt to elevate the negroes came from wesley's contemporary, george whitefield,[ ] who, strange to say, was regarded by the negro race as its enemy for having favored the introduction of slavery. he was primarily interested in the conversion of the colored people. without denying that "liberty is sweet to those who are born free," he advocated the importation of slaves into georgia "to bring them within the reach of those means of grace which would make them partake of a liberty far more precious than the freedom of body."[ ] while on a visit to this country in he purchased a large tract of land at nazareth, pennsylvania, for the purpose of founding a school for the education of negroes.[ ] deciding later to go south, he sold the site to the moravian brethren who had undertaken to establish a mission for negroes at bethlehem in .[ ] some writers have accepted the statement that whitefield commenced the erection of a schoolhouse at nazareth; others maintain that he failed to accomplish anything.[ ] be that as it may, accessible facts are sufficient to show that, unwise as was his policy of importing slaves, his intention was to improve their condition. it was because of this sentiment in georgia in , when slavery was finally introduced there, that the people through their representatives in convention recommended that masters should educate their young slaves, and do whatever they could to make religious impressions upon the minds of the aged. this favorable attitude of early methodists toward negroes caused them to consider the new churchmen their friends and made it easy for this sect to proselyte the race. [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed_., , p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] [footnote : turner, _the negro in pennsylvania_, p. .] [footnote : equally interested in the negroes were the moravians who settled in the uplands of pennsylvania and roamed over the hills of the appalachian region as far south as carolina. a painting of a group of their converts prior to shows among others two negroes, johannes of south carolina and jupiter of new york. see hamilton, _history of the church known as the moravian_, p. ; plumer, _thoughts on the religious instruction of negroes_, p. ; reichel, _the moravians in north carolina_, p. .] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed_., , p. .] chapter iii education as a right of man in addition to the mere diffusion of knowledge as a means to teach religion there was a need of another factor to make the education of the negroes thorough. this required force was supplied by the response of the colonists to the nascent social doctrine of the eighteenth century. during the french and indian war there were set to work certain forces which hastened the social and political upheaval called the american revolution. "bigoted saints" of the more highly favored sects condescended to grant the rising denominations toleration, the aristocratic elements of colonial society deigned to look more favorably upon those of lower estate, and a large number of leaders began to think that the negro should be educated and freed. to acquaint themselves with the claims of the underman americans thereafter prosecuted more seriously the study of coke, milton, locke, and blackstone. the last of these was then read more extensively in the colonies than in great britain. getting from these writers strange ideas of individual liberty and the social compact theory of man's making in a state of nature government deriving its power from the consent of the governed, the colonists contended more boldly than ever for religious freedom, industrial liberty, and political equality. given impetus by the diffusion of these ideas, the revolutionary movement became productive of the spirit of universal benevolence. hearing the contention for natural and inalienable rights, nathaniel appleton[ ] and john woolman,[ ] were emboldened to carry these theories to their logical conclusion. they attacked not only the oppressors of the colonists but censured also those who denied the negro race freedom of body and freedom of mind. when john adams heard james otis basing his argument against the writs of assistance on the british constitution "founded in the laws of nature," he "shuddered at the doctrine taught and the consequences that might be derived from such premises."[ ] [footnote : locke, _anti-slavery_, etc., p. , , .] [footnote : _works of john woolman_ in two parts, pp. and ; moore, _notes on slavery in mass._, p. .] [footnote : adams, _works of john adams_, vol. x., p. ; moore, _notes on slavery in mass._, p. .] so effective was the attack on the institution of slavery and its attendant evils that interest in the question leaped the boundaries of religious organizations and became the concern of fair-minded men throughout the country. not only did northern men of the type of john adams and james otis express their opposition to this tyranny of men's bodies and minds, but laurens, henry, wythe, mason, and washington pointed out the injustice of such a policy. accordingly we find arrayed against the aristocratic masters almost all the leaders of the american revolution.[ ] they favored the policy, first, of suppressing the slave trade, next of emancipating the negroes in bondage, and finally of educating them for a life of freedom.[ ] while students of government were exposing the inconsistency of slaveholding among a people contending for political liberty, and men like samuel webster, james swan, and samuel hopkins attacked the institution on economic grounds;[ ] jonathan boucher,[ ] dr. rush,[ ] and benjamin franklin[ ] were devising plans to educate slaves for freedom; and isaac tatem[ ] and anthony benezet[ ] were actually in the schoolroom endeavoring to enlighten their black brethren. [footnote : cobb, _slavery_, etc., p. .] [footnote : madison, _works of_, vol. iii., p. ; smyth, _works of franklin_, vol. v., p. ; washington, _works of jefferson_, vol. ix., p. ; brissot de warville, _new travels_, vol. i., p. ; proceedings of the american convention of abolition societies, , , .] [footnote : webster, _a sermon preached before the honorable council_, etc.; webster, _earnest address to my country on slavery_; swan, _a dissuasion to great britain and the colonies_; hopkins, _dialogue concerning slavery_.] [footnote : boucher, _a view of the causes and consequences of the american revolution_, p. .] [footnote : rush, _an address to the inhabitants of_, etc., p. .] [footnote : smyth, _works of franklin_, vol. iv., p. ; vol. v., p. .] [footnote : wickersham, _history of ed. in pa_., p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. ; _special report of the u.s. com. of ed_., , p. ; _african repository_, vol. iv., p. ; benezet, _observations_; benezet, _a serious address to the rulers of america_.] the aim of these workers was not merely to enable the negroes to take over sufficient of western civilization to become nominal christians, not primarily to increase their economic efficiency, but to enlighten them because they are men. to strengthen their position these defendants of the education of the blacks cited the customs of the greeks and romans, who enslaved not the minds and wills, but only the bodies of men. nor did these benefactors fail to mention the cases of ancient slaves, who, having the advantages of education, became poets, teachers, and philosophers, instrumental in the diffusion of knowledge among the higher classes. there was still the idea of cotton mather, who was willing to treat his servants as part of the family, and to employ such of them as were competent to teach his children lessons of piety.[ ] [footnote : meade, _sermons of thomas bacon_, appendix.] the chief objection of these reformers to slavery was that its victims had no opportunity for mental improvement. "othello," a free person of color, contributing to the _american museum_ in , made the institution responsible for the intellectual rudeness of the negroes who, though "naturally possessed of strong sagacity and lively parts," were by law and custom prohibited from being instructed in any kind of learning.[ ] he styled this policy an effort to bolster up an institution that extinguished the "divine spark of the slave, crushed the bud of his genius, and kept him unacquainted with the world." dr. mcleod denounced slavery because it "debases a part of the human race" and tends "to destroy their intellectual powers."[ ] "the slave from his infancy," continued he, "is obliged implicitly to obey the will of another. there is no circumstance which can stimulate him to exercise his intellectual powers." in his arraignment of this system rev. david rice complained that it was in the power of the master to deprive the slaves of all education, that they had not the opportunity for instructing conversation, that it was put out of their power to learn to read, and that their masters kept them from other means of information.[ ] slavery, therefore, must be abolished because it infringes upon the natural right of men to be enlightened. [footnote : _the american museum_, vol. iv., pp. and .] [footnote : mcleod, _negro slavery_, p. .] [footnote : rice, speech in the constitutional convention of kentucky, p. .] during this period religion as a factor in the educational progress of the negroes was not eliminated. in fact, representative churchmen of the various sects still took the lead in advocating the enlightenment of the colored people. these protagonists, however, ceased to claim this boon merely as a divine right and demanded it as a social privilege. some of the clergy then interested had not at first seriously objected to the enslavement of the african race, believing that the lot of these people would not be worse in this country where they might have an opportunity for enlightenment. but when this result failed to follow, and when the slavery of the africans' bodies turned out to be the slavery of their minds, the philanthropic and religious proclaimed also the doctrine of enlightenment as a right of man. desiring to see negroes enjoy this privilege, jonathan boucher,[ ] one of the most influential of the colonial clergymen, urged his hearers at the celebration of the peace of to improve and emancipate their slaves that they might "participate in the general joy." with the hope of inducing men to discharge the same duty, bishop warburton[ ] boldly asserted a few years later that slaves are "rational creatures endowed with all our qualities except that of color, and our brethren both by nature and grace." john woolman,[ ] a quaker minister, influenced by the philosophy of john locke, began to preach that liberty is the right of all men, and that slaves, being the fellow-creatures of their masters, had a natural right to be elevated. [footnote : jonathan boucher was a rector of the established church in maryland. though not a promoter of the movement for the political rights of the colonists, boucher was, however, so moved by the spirit of uplift of the downtrodden that he takes front rank among those who, in emphasizing the rights of servants, caused a decided change in the attitude of white men toward the improvement of negroes. boucher was not an immediate abolitionist. he abhorred slavery, however, to the extent that he asserted that if ever the colonies would be improved to their utmost capacity, an essential part of that amelioration had to be the abolition of slavery. his chief concern then was the cultivation of the minds in order to make amends for the drudgery to their bodies. see boucher, _causes_, etc., p. .] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed_., , p. .] [footnote : an influential minister of the society of friends and an extensive traveler through the colonies, woolman had an opportunity to do much good in attacking the policy of those who kept their negroes in deplorable ignorance, and in commending the good example of those who instructed their slaves in reading. in his _considerations on the keeping of slaves_ he took occasion to praise the friends of north carolina for the unusual interest they manifested in the cause at their meetings during his travels in that colony about the year . with such workers as woolman in the field it is little wonder that quakers thereafter treated slaves as brethren, alleviated their burdens, enlightened their minds, emancipated and cared for them until they could provide for themselves. see _works of john woolman_ in two parts, pp. and .] thus following the theories of the revolutionary leaders these liberal-minded men promulgated along with the doctrine of individual liberty that of the freedom of the mind. the best expression of this advanced idea came from the methodist episcopal church, which reached the acme of antislavery sentiment in . this sect then boldly declared: "we view it as contrary to the golden law of god and the prophets, and the inalienable rights of mankind as well as every principle of the revolution to hold in deepest abasement, in a more abject slavery than is perhaps to be found in any part of the world, except america, so many souls that are capable of the image of god."[ ] [footnote : matlack, _history of american slavery and methodism_, pp. _et seq_.; mctyeire, _history of methodism_, p. .] frequently in contact with men who were advocating the right of the negroes to be educated, statesmen as well as churchmen could not easily evade the question. washington did not have much to say about it and did little more than to provide for the ultimate liberation of his slaves and the teaching of their children to read.[ ] less aid to this movement came from john adams, although he detested slavery to the extent that he never owned a bondman, preferring to hire freemen at extra cost to do his work.[ ] adams made it clear that he favored gradual emancipation. but he neither delivered any inflammatory speeches against slaveholders neglectful of the instruction of their slaves, nor devised any scheme for their enjoyment of freedom. so was it with hamilton who, as an advocate of the natural rights of man, opposed the institution of slavery, but, with the exception of what assistance he gave the new york african free schools[ ] said and did little to promote the actual education of the colored people. [footnote : lossing, _life of george washington_, vol. iii., p. .] [footnote : adams, _works of john adams_, vol. viii., p. ; vol. ix., p. ; vol. x., p. .] [footnote : andrews, _history of the new york african free schools_, p. .] madison in stating his position on this question was a little more definite than some of his contemporaries. speaking of the necessary preparation of the colored people for emancipation he thought it was possible to determine the proper course of instruction. he believed, however, that, since the negroes were to continue in a state of bondage during the preparatory period and to be within the jurisdiction of commonwealths recognizing ample authority over them, "a competent discipline" could not be impracticable. he said further that the "degree in which this discipline" would "enforce the needed labor and in which a voluntary industry" would "supply the defect of compulsory labor, were vital points on which it" might "not be safe to be very positive without some light from actual experiment."[ ] evidently he was of the opinion that the training of slaves to discharge later the duties of freemen was a difficult task but, if well planned and directed, could be made a success. [footnote : madison, _works of_, vol. iii., p. .] no one of the great statesmen of this time was more interested in the enlightenment of the negro than benjamin franklin.[ ] he was for a long time associated with the friends of the colored people and turned out from his press such fiery anti-slavery pamphlets as those of lay and sandiford. franklin also became one of the "associates of dr. bray." always interested in the colored schools of philadelphia, the philosopher was, while in london, connected with the english "gentlemen concerned with the pious design,"[ ] serving as chairman of the organization for the year . he was a firm supporter of anthony benezet,[ ] and was made president of the abolition society of philadelphia which in founded a successful colored school.[ ] this school was so well planned and maintained that it continued about a hundred years. [footnote : smyth, _works of benjamin franklin_, vol. v., p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., vol. iv., p. .] [footnote : smyth, _works of benjamin franklin_, vol. v., p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., vol. x., p. ; and wickersham, _history of education in pennsylvania_, p. .] john jay kept up his interest in the negro race.[ ] in the convention of he coöperated with gouverneur morris, advocating the abolition of the slave trade and the rejection of the federal ratio. his efforts in behalf of the colored people were actuated by his early conviction that the national character of this country could be retrieved only by abolishing the iniquitous traffic in human souls and improving the negroes.[ ] showing his pity for the downtrodden people of color around him, jay helped to promote the cause of the abolitionists of new york who established and supported several colored schools in that city. such care was exercised in providing for the attendance, maintenance, and supervision of these schools that they soon took rank among the best in the united states. [footnote : jay, _works of john jay_, vol. i., p. ; vol. iii, p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., vol. iii., p. .] more interesting than the views of any other man of this epoch on the subject of negro education were those of thomas jefferson. born of pioneer parentage in the mountains of virginia, jefferson never lost his frontier democratic ideals which made him an advocate of simplicity, equality, and universal freedom. having in mind when he wrote the declaration of independence the rights of the blacks as well as those of whites, this disciple of john locke, could not but feel that the slaves of his day had a natural right to education and freedom. jefferson said so much more on these important questions than his contemporaries that he would have been considered an abolitionist, had he lived in . giving his views on the enlightenment of the negroes he asserted that the minds of the masters should be "apprized by reflection and strengthened by the energies of conscience against the obstacles of self-interest to an acquiescence in the rights of others." the owners would then permit their slaves to be "prepared by instruction and habit" for self-government, the honest pursuit of industry, and social duty.[ ] in his scheme for a modern system of public schools jefferson included the training of the slaves in industrial and agricultural branches to equip them for a higher station in life, else he thought they should be removed from the country when liberated.[ ] capable of mental development, as he had found certain men of color to be, the sage of monticello doubted at times that they could be made the intellectual equals of white men,[ ] and did not actually advocate their incorporation into the body politic. [footnote : washington, _works of jefferson_, vol. vi., p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., vol. viii., p. ; and mayo, _educational movement in the south_, p. .] [footnote : as to what jefferson thought of the negro intellect we are still in doubt. writing in to banneker, the negro mathematician and astronomer, he said that nobody wished to see more than he such proofs as banneker exhibited that nature has given to our black brethren talents equal to those of men of other colors, and that the appearance of a lack of such native ability was owing only to their degraded condition in africa and america. jefferson expressed himself as being ardently desirous of seeing a good system commenced for raising the condition both of the body and the mind of the slaves to what it ought to be as fast as the "imbecility" of their then existence and other circumstances, which could not be neglected, would admit. replying to grégoire of paris, who wrote an interesting essay on the _literature of negroes_, showing the power of their intellect, jefferson assured him that no person living wished more sincerely than he to see a complete refutation of the doubts he himself had entertained and expressed on the grade of understanding allotted to them by nature and to find that in this respect they are on a par with white men. these doubts, he said, were the result of personal observations in the limited sphere of his own state where "the opportunities for the development of their genius were not favorable, and those of exercising it still less so." he said that he had expressed them with great hesitation; but "whatever be the degree of their talent, it is no measure of their rights. because sir isaac newton was superior to others in understanding, he was not therefore lord of the person or property of others." in this respect he believed they were gaining daily in the opinions of nations, and hopeful advances were being made toward their reëstablishment on an equal footing with other colors of the human family. he prayed, therefore, that god might accept his thanks for enabling him to observe the "many instances of respectable intelligence in that race of men, which could not fail to have effect in hastening the day of their relief." yet a few days later when writing to joel barlow, jefferson referred to bishop grégoire's essay and expressed his doubt that this pamphlet was weighty evidence of the intellect of the negro. he said that the whole did not amount in point of evidence to what they themselves knew of banneker. he conceded that banneker had spherical knowledge enough to make almanacs, but not without the suspicion of aid from ellicott who was his neighbor and friend, and never missed an opportunity of puffing him. referring to the letter he received from banneker, he said it showed the writer to have a mind of very common stature indeed. see washington, _works of jefferson_, vol. v., pp. and .] so much progress in the improvement of slaves was effected with all of these workers in the field that conservative southerners in the midst of the antislavery agitation contented themselves with the thought that radical action was not necessary, as the institution would of itself soon pass away. legislatures passed laws facilitating manumission,[ ] many southerners emancipated their slaves to give them a better chance to improve their condition, regulations unfavorable to the assembly of negroes for the dissemination of information almost fell into desuetude, a larger number of masters began to instruct their bondmen, and persons especially interested in these unfortunates found the objects of their piety more accessible.[ ] [footnote : _locke, anti-slavery_, etc., p. .] [footnote : brissot de warville, _new travels_, vol. i., p. ; johann schoepf, _travels in the confederation_, p. .] not all slaveholders, however, were thus induced to respect this new right claimed for the colored people. georgia and south carolina were exceptional in that they were not sufficiently stirred by the revolutionary movement to have much compassion for this degraded class. the attitude of the people of georgia, however, was then more favorable than that of the south carolinians.[ ] nevertheless, the georgia planters near the frontier were not long in learning that the general enlightenment of the negroes would endanger the institution of slavery. accordingly, in , at the very time when radical reformers were clamoring for the rights of man, georgia, following in the wake of south carolina, reënacted its act of which imposed a penalty on any one who should teach or cause slaves to be taught or employ them "in any manner of writing whatever."[ ] the penalty, however, was less than that imposed in south carolina.[ ] the same measure terminated the helpful mingling of slaves by providing for their dispersion when assembled for the old-time "love feast" emphasized so much among the rising methodists of the south. [footnote : the laws of georgia were not so harsh as those of south carolina. a larger number of intelligent persons of color were found in the rural districts of georgia. charleston, however, was exceptional in that its negroes had unusual educational advantages.] [footnote : marbury and crawford, _digest of the laws of the state of georgia_, p. .] [footnote : brevard, _digest of the public statutes of south carolina_, vol. ii., p. .] those advocating the imposition of restraints upon negroes acquiring knowledge were not, however, confined to south carolina and georgia where the malevolent happened to be in the majority. the other states had not seen the last of the generation of those who doubted that education would fit the slaves for the exalted position of citizens. the retrogressives made much of the assertion that adult slaves lately imported, were, on account of their attachment to heathen practices and idolatrous rites, loath to take over the teutonic civilization, and would at best learn to speak the english language imperfectly only.[ ] the reformers, who at times admitted this, maintained that the alleged difficulties encountered in teaching the crudest element of the slaves could not be adduced as an argument against the religious instruction of free negroes and the education of the american born colored children.[ ] this problem, however, was not a serious one in most northern states, for the reason that the small number of slaves in that section obviated the necessity for much apprehension as to what kind of education the blacks should have, and whether they should be enlightened before or after emancipation. although the northern people believed that the education of the race should be definitely planned, and had much to say about industrial education, most of them were of the opinion that ordinary training in the fundamentals of useful knowledge and in the principles of christian religion, was sufficient to meet the needs of those designated for freedom. [footnote : meade, _sermons of thomas bacon_, pp. - .] [footnote : porteus, _works of_, vol. vi., p. ; warburton, _a sermon_, etc., pp. and .] on the other hand, most southerners who conceded the right of the negro to be educated did not openly aid the movement except with the understanding that the enlightened ones should be taken from their fellows and colonized in some remote part of the united states or in their native land.[ ] the idea of colonization, however, was not confined to the southern slaveholders, for thornton, fothergill, and granville sharp had long looked to africa as the proper place for enlightened people of color.[ ] feeling that it would be wrong to expatriate them, benezet and branagan[ ] advocated the colonization of such negroes on the public lands west of the alleghanies. there was some talk of giving slaves training in the elements of agriculture and then dividing plantations among them to develop a small class of tenants. jefferson, a member of a committee appointed in by the general assembly of that commonwealth to revise its laws, reported a plan providing for the instruction of its slaves in agriculture and the handicrafts to prepare them for liberation and colonization under the supervision of the home government until they could take care of themselves.[ ] [footnote : _writings of james monroe_, vol. iii., pp. , , , , , , , , , , , , .] [footnote : brissot de warville, _travels_, vol. i., p. .] [footnote : _tyrannical libertymen_, pp. - ; locke, _anti-slavery_, etc., pp. - ; branagan, _serious remonstrance_, p. .] [footnote : washington, _works of jefferson_, vol. iii., p. ; vol. iv., p. and vol. viii., p. .] without resorting to the subterfuge of colonization, not a few slaveholders were still wise enough to show why the improvement of the negroes should be neglected altogether. vanquished by the logic of daniel davis[ ] and benjamin rush,[ ] those who had theretofore justified slavery on the ground that it gave the bondmen a chance to be enlightened, fell back on the theory of african racial inferiority. this they said was so well exhibited by the negroes' lack of wisdom and of goodness that continued heathenism of the race was justifiable.[ ] answering these inconsistent persons, john wesley inquired: "allowing them to be as stupid as you say, to whom is that stupidity owing? without doubt it lies altogether at the door of the inhuman masters who give them no opportunity for improving their understanding and indeed leave them no motive, either from hope or fear to attempt any such thing." wesley asserted, too, that the africans were in no way remarkable for their stupidity while they remained in their own country, and that where they had equal motives and equal means of improvement, the negroes were not only not inferior to the better inhabitants of europe, but superior to some of them.[ ] [footnote : davis was a logical antislavery agitator. he believed that if the slaves had had the means of education, if they had been treated with humanity, making slaves of them had been no more than doing evil that good might come. he thought that christianity and humanity would have rather dictated the sending of books and teachers into africa and endeavors for their salvation.] [footnote : benjamin rush was a philadelphia physician of quaker parentage. he was educated at the college of new jersey and at the medical school of edinburgh, where he came into contact with some of the most enlightened men of his time. holding to the ideals of his youth, dr. rush was soon associated with the friends of the negroes on his return to philadelphia. he not only worked for the abolition of the slave trade but fearlessly advocated the right of the negroes to be educated. he pointed out that an inquiry into the methods of converting negroes to christianity would show that the means were ill suited to the end proposed. "in many cases," said he, "sunday is appropriated to work for themselves. reading and writing are discouraged among them. a belief is inculcated among some that they have no souls. in a word, every attempt to instruct or convert them has been constantly opposed by their masters." see rush, _an address to the inhabitants_, etc., p. .] [footnote : meade, _sermons of rev. thomas bacon_, pp. - .] [footnote : wesley, _thoughts upon slavery_, p. .] william pinkney, the antislavery leader of maryland, believed also that negroes are no worse than white people under similar conditions, and that all the colored people needed to disprove their so-called inferiority was an equal chance with the more favored race.[ ] others like george buchanan referred to the negroes' talent for the fine arts and to their achievements in literature, mathematics, and philosophy. buchanan informed these merciless aristocrats "that the africans whom you despise, whom you inhumanly treat as brutes and whom you unlawfully subject to slavery with tyrannizing hands of despots are equally capable of improvement with yourselves."[ ] [footnote : pinkney, _speech in maryland house of delegates_, p. .] [footnote : buchanan, _an oration on the moral and political evil of slavery_, p. .] franklin considered the idea of the natural inferiority of the negro as a silly excuse. he conceded that most of the blacks were improvident and poor, but believed that their condition was not due to deficient understanding but to their lack of education. he was very much impressed with their achievements in music.[ ] so disgusting was this notion of inferiority to abbé grégoire of paris that he wrote an interesting essay on "negro literature" to prove that people of color have unusual intellectual power.[ ] he sent copies of this pamphlet to leading men where slavery existed. another writer discussing jefferson's equivocal position on this question said that one would have thought that "modern philosophy himself" would not have the face to expect that the wretch, who is driven out to labor at the dawn of day, and who toils until evening with a whip over his head, ought to be a poet. benezet, who had actually taught negroes, declared "with truth and sincerity" that he had found among them as great variety of talents as among a like number of white persons. he boldly asserted that the notion entertained by some that the blacks were inferior in their capacities was a vulgar prejudice founded on the pride or ignorance of their lordly masters who had kept their slaves at such a distance as to be unable to form a right judgment of them.[ ] [footnote : smyth, _works of franklin_, vol. vi., p. .] [footnote : grégoire, _la littérature des nègres_.] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] chapter iv actual education would these professions of interest in the mental development of the blacks be translated into action? what these reformers would do to raise the standard of negro education above the plane of rudimentary training incidental to religious instruction, was yet to be seen. would they secure to negroes the educational privileges guaranteed other elements of society? the answer, if not affirmative, was decidedly encouraging. the idea uppermost in the minds of these workers was that the people of color could and should be educated as other races of men. in the lead of this movement were the antislavery agitators. recognizing the negroes' need of preparation for citizenship, the abolitionists proclaimed as a common purpose of their organizations the education of the colored people with a view to developing in them self-respect, self-support, and usefulness in the community.[ ] [footnote : smyth, _works of benjamin franklin_, vol. x., p. ; torrey, _portraiture of slavery_, p. . see also constitution of almost any antislavery society organized during this period.] the proposition to cultivate the minds of the slaves came as a happy solution of what had been a perplexing problem. many americans who considered slavery an evil had found no way out of the difficulty when the alternative was to turn loose upon society so many uncivilized men without the ability to discharge the duties of citizenship.[ ] assured then that the efforts at emancipation would be tested by experience, a larger number of men advocated abolition. these leaders recommended gradual emancipation for states having a large slave population, that those designated for freedom might first be instructed in the value and meaning of liberty to render them comfortable in the use of it.[ ] the number of slaves in the states adopting the policy of immediate emancipation was not considered a menace to society, for the schools already open to colored people could exert a restraining influence on those lately given the boon of freedom. for these reasons the antislavery societies had in their constitutions a provision for a committee of education to influence negroes to attend school, superintend their instruction, and emphasize the cultivation of the mind as the necessary preparation for "that state in society upon which depends our political happiness."[ ] much stress was laid upon this point by the american convention of abolition societies in and when the organization expressed the hope that freedmen might participate in civil rights as fast as they qualified by education.[ ] [footnote : washington, _works of jefferson_, vol. vi., p. ; vol. viii., p. ; madison, _works of_, vol. iii., p. ; monroe, _writings of_, vol. iii., pp. , , , ; adams, _works of john adams_, vol. ix., p. and vol. x., p. .] [footnote : _proceedings of the american convention_, etc., , address.] [footnote : the constitution of almost any antislavery society of that time provided for this work. see _proc. of am. conv._, etc., , address.] [footnote : _proceedings of the american convention of abolition societies_, , p. ; and , p. ; and _rise and progress of the testimony of friends_, etc., p. .] this work was organized by the abolitionists but was generally maintained by members of the various sects which did more for the enlightenment of the people of color through the antislavery organizations than through their own.[ ] the support of the clergy, however, did not mean that the education of the negroes would continue incidental to the teaching of religion. the blacks were to be accepted as brethren and trained to be useful citizens. for better education the colored people could then look to the more liberal sects, the quakers, baptists, methodists, and presbyterians, who prior to the revolution had been restrained by intolerance from extensive proselyting. upon the attainment of religious liberty they were free to win over the slaveholders who came into the methodist and baptist churches in large numbers, bringing their slaves with them.[ ] the freedom of these "regenerated" churches made possible the rise of negro exhorters and preachers, who to exercise their gifts managed in some way to learn to read and write. schools for the training of such leaders were not to be found, but to encourage ambitious blacks to qualify themselves white ministers often employed such candidates as attendants, allowing them time to observe, to study, and even to address their audiences.[ ] [footnote : the antislavery societies were at first the uniting influence among all persons interested in the uplift of the negroes. the agitation had not then become violent, for men considered the institution not a sin but merely an evil.] [footnote : coke, _journal_, etc., p. ; lambert, _travels_, p. ; baird, _a collection_, etc., pp. , and ; james, _documentary_, etc., p. ; foote, _sketches of virginia_, p. ; matlack, _history of american slavery and methodism_, p. ; semple, _history of the rise and progress of the baptists in virginia_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, and coke, _journal_, etc., pp. - .] it must be observed, however, that the interest of these benevolent men was no longer manifested in the mere traditional teaching of individual slaves. the movement ceased to be the concern of separate philanthropists. men really interested in the uplift of the colored people organized to raise funds, open schools, and supervise their education.[ ] in the course of time their efforts became more systematic and consequently more successful. these educators adopted the threefold policy of instructing negroes in the principles of the christian religion, giving them the fundamentals of the common branches, and teaching them the most useful handicrafts.[ ] the indoctrination of the colored people, to be sure, was still an important concern to their teachers, but the accession to their ranks of a militant secular element caused the emphasis to shift to other phases of education. seeing the negroes' need of mental development, the presbyterian synod of new york and pennsylvania urged the members of that denomination in to give their slaves "such good education as to prepare them for a better enjoyment of freedom."[ ] in reply to the inquiry as to what could be done to teach the poor black and white children to read, the methodist conference of recommended the establishment of sunday schools and the appointment of persons to teach gratis "all that will attend and have a capacity to learn."[ ] the conference recommended that the church publish a special text-book to teach these children learning as well as piety.[ ] men in the political world were also active. in the state of new jersey passed an act preliminary to emancipation, making the teaching of slaves to read compulsory under a penalty of five pounds.[ ] [footnote : _proceedings of the american convention of abolition societies_, .] [footnote : _proceedings of the american convention of abolition societies_, .] [footnote : locke, _anti-slavery_, etc., p. .] [footnote : washington, _story of the negro_, vol. ii, p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : laws of new jersey, .] with such influence brought to bear on persons in the various walks of life, the movement for the effective education of the colored people became more extensive. voicing the sentiment of the different local organizations, the american convention of abolition societies of urged the branches to have the children of free negroes and slaves instructed in "common literature."[ ] two years later the abolition society of the state of maryland proposed to establish an academy to offer this kind of instruction. to execute this scheme the american convention thought that it was expedient to employ regular tutors, to form private associations of their members or other well-disposed persons for the purpose of instructing the people of color in the most simple branches of education.[ ] [footnote : _proceedings of the american convention of abolition societies_, , p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, , p. .] the regular tutors referred to above were largely indentured servants who then constituted probably the majority of the teachers of the colonies.[ ] in jonathan boucher said that two thirds of the teachers of maryland belonged to this class.[ ] the contact of negroes with these servants is significant. in the absence of rigid caste distinctions they associated with the slaves and the barrier between them was so inconsiderable that laws had to be passed to prevent the miscegenation of the races. the blacks acquired much useful knowledge from servant teachers and sometimes assisted them. [footnote : see the descriptions of indentured servants in the advertisements of colonial newspapers referred to on pages - ; and boucher, _a view of the causes_, etc., p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, pp. and .] attention was directed also to the fact that neither literary nor religious education prepared the negroes for a life of usefulness. heeding the advice of kosciuszko, madison and jefferson, the advocates of the education of the negroes endeavored to give them such practical training as their peculiar needs demanded. in the agricultural sections the first duty of the teacher of the blacks was to show them how to get their living from the soil. this was the final test of their preparation for emancipation. accordingly, on large plantations where much supervision was necessary, trustworthy negroes were trained as managers. many of those who showed aptitude were liberated and encouraged to produce for themselves. slaves designated for freedom were often given small parcels of land for the cultivation of which they were allowed some of their time. an important result of this agricultural training was that many of the slaves thus favored amassed considerable wealth by using their spare time in cultivating crops of their own.[ ] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] the advocates of useful education for the degraded race had more to say about training in the mechanic arts. such instruction, however, was not then a new thing to the blacks of the south, for they had from time immemorial been the trustworthy artisans of that section. the aim then was to give them such education as would make them intelligent workmen and develop in them the power to plan for themselves. in the north, where the negroes had been largely menial servants, adequate industrial education was deemed necessary for those who were to be liberated.[ ] almost every northern colored school of any consequence then offered courses in the handicrafts. in the quakers of philadelphia employed sarah dwight to teach the colored girls sewing.[ ] anthony benezet provided in his will that in the school to be established by his benefaction the girls should be taught needlework.[ ] the teachers who took upon themselves the improvement of the free people of color of new york city regarded industrial training as one of their important tasks.[ ] [footnote : see the _address of the am. conv. of abolition societies_, ; _ibid._, ; _ibid._, _et passim._] [footnote : wickersham, _history of ed. in pa._, p. .] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] [footnote : andrews, _history of the new york african free schools_, p. .] none urged this duty upon the directors of these schools more persistently than the antislavery organizations. in the american convention of abolition societies recommended that negroes be instructed in "those mechanic arts which will keep them most constantly employed and, of course, which will less subject them to idleness and debauchery, and thus prepare them for becoming good citizens of the united states."[ ] speaking repeatedly on this wise the convention requested the colored people to let it be their special care to have their children not only to work at useful trades but also to till the soil.[ ] the early abolitionists believed that this was the only way the freedmen could learn to support themselves.[ ] in connection with their schools the antislavery leaders had an indenturing committee to find positions for colored students who had the advantages of industrial education.[ ] in some communities slaves were prepared for emancipation by binding them out as apprentices to machinists and artisans until they learned a trade. [footnote : _proceedings of the american convention_, , p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, , p. ; _ibid._, , pp. , , and .] [footnote : _ibid._, , p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, , p. .] two early efforts to carry out this policy are worthy of notice here. these were the endeavors of anthony benezet and thaddeus kosciuszko. benezet was typical of those men, who, having the courage of their conviction, not only taught colored people, but gladly appropriated property to their education. benezet died in , leaving considerable wealth to be devoted to the purpose of educating indians and negroes. his will provided that as the estate on the death of his wife would not be sufficient entirely to support a school, the overseers of the public schools of philadelphia should join with a committee appointed by the society of friends, and other benevolent persons, in the care and maintenance of an institution such as he had planned. finally in the efforts of benezet reached their culmination in the construction of a schoolhouse, with additional funds obtained from david barclay of london and thomas sidney, a colored man of philadelphia. the pupils of this school were to study reading, writing, arithmetic, plain accounts, and sewing.[ ] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] with respect to conceding the negroes' claim to a better education, thaddeus kosciuszko, the polish general, was not unlike benezet. none of the revolutionary leaders were more moved with compassion for the colored people than this warrior. he saw in education the powerful leverage which would place them in position to enjoy the newly won rights of man. while assisting us in gaining our independence, kosciuszko acquired here valuable property which he endeavored to devote to the enlightenment of the slaves. he authorized thomas jefferson, his executor, to employ the whole thereof in purchasing negroes and liberating them in the name of kosciuszko, "in giving them an education in trades or otherwise, and in having them instructed for their new condition in the duties of morality." the instructors were to provide for them such training as would make them "good neighbors, good mothers or fathers, good husbands or wives, teaching them the duties of citizenship, teaching them to be defenders of their liberty and country, and of the good order of society, and whatsoever might make them useful and happy."[ ] clearly as this was set forth the executor failed to discharge this duty enjoined upon him. the heirs of the donor instituted proceedings to obtain possession of the estate, which, so far as the author knows, was never used for the purpose for which it was intended. [footnote : _african repository_, vol. xi., pp. - .] in view of these numerous strivings we are compelled to inquire exactly what these educators accomplished. although it is impossible to measure the results of their early efforts, various records of the eighteenth century prove that there was lessening objection to the instruction of slaves and practically none to the enlightenment of freedmen. negroes in considerable numbers were becoming well grounded in the rudiments of education. they had reached the point of constituting the majority of the mechanics in slaveholding communities; they were qualified to be tradesmen, trustworthy helpers, and attendants of distinguished men, and a few were serving as clerks, overseers, and managers.[ ] many who were favorably circumstanced learned more than mere reading and writing. in exceptional cases, some were employed not only as teachers and preachers to their people, but as instructors of the white race.[ ] [footnote : georgia and south carolina had to pass laws to prevent negroes from following these occupations for fear that they might thereby become too well informed. see brevard, _digest of public statute laws of s.c._, vol. ii., p. ; and marbury and crawford, _digest of the laws of the state of georgia_, p. .] [footnote : bassett, _slavery in north carolina_, p. ; manuscripts relating to the condition of the colored people of north carolina, ohio, and tennessee now in the hands of dr. j.e. moorland.] a more accurate estimate of how far the enlightenment of the negroes had progressed before the close of the eighteenth century, is better obtained from the reports of teachers and missionaries who were working among them. appealing to the negroes of virginia about , benjamin fawcett addressed them as intelligent people, commanding them to read and study the bible for themselves and consider "how the papists do all they can to hide it from their fellowmen." "be particularly thankful," said he, "for the ministers of christ around you, who are faithfully laboring to teach the truth as it is in jesus."[ ] rev. mr. davies, then a member of the society for promoting the gospel among the poor, reported that there were multitudes of negroes in different parts of virginia who were "willingly, eagerly desirous to be instructed and embraced every opportunity of acquainting themselves with the doctrine of the gospel," and though they had generally very little help to learn to read, yet to his surprise many of them by dint of application had made such progress that they could "intelligently read a plain author and especially their bible." pity it was, he thought, that any of them should be without necessary books. negroes were wont to come to him with such moving accounts of their needs in this respect that he could not help supplying them.[ ] on saturday evenings and sundays his home was crowded with numbers of those "whose very countenances still carry the air of importunate petitioners" for the same favors with those who came before them. complaining that his stock was exhausted, and that he had to turn away many disappointed, he urged his friends to send him other suitable books, for nothing else, thought he, could be a greater inducement to their industry to learn to read. [footnote : fawcett, _compassionate address_, etc., p. .] [footnote : fawcett, _compassionate address_, etc., p. .] still more reliable testimony may be obtained, not from persons particularly interested in the uplift of the blacks, but from slaveholders. their advertisements in the colonial newspapers furnish unconscious evidence of the intellectual progress of the negroes during the eighteenth century. "he's an 'artful,'"[ ] "plausible,"[ ] "smart,"[ ] or "sensible fellow,"[ ] "delights much in traffic,"[ ] and "plays on the fife extremely well,"[ ] are some of the statements found in the descriptions of fugitive slaves. other fugitives were speaking "plainly,"[ ] "talking indifferent english,"[ ] "remarkably good english,"[ ] and "exceedingly good english."[ ] in some advertisements we observe such expressions as "he speaks a little french,"[ ] "creole french,"[ ] "a few words of high-dutch,"[ ] and "tolerable german."[ ] writing about a fugitive a master would often state that "he can read print,"[ ] "can read writing,"[ ] "can read and also write a little,"[ ] "can read and write,"[ ] "can write a pretty hand and has probably forged a pass."[ ] these conditions obtained especially in charleston, south carolina, where were advertised various fugitives, one of whom spoke french and english fluently, and passed for a doctor among his people,[ ] another who spoke spanish and french intelligibly,[ ] and a third who could read, write, and speak both french and spanish very well.[ ] [footnote : _virginia herald_ (fredericksburg), jan. , ; _the maryland gazette_, feb. , ; _dunlop's maryland gazette and baltimore advertiser_, july , ; _the state gazette of south carolina_, may , ; _the state gazette of north carolina_, july , .] [footnote : _the city gazette and daily advertiser_ (charleston, s.c.), sept. , , and _the carolina gazette_, june , .] [footnote : _the charleston courier_, june , ; _the state gazette of south carolina_, feb. , and , ; and _the maryland journal and baltimore advertiser_, feb. , .] [footnote : _south carolina weekly advertiser_, feb. and april , ; _state gazette of south carolina_, feb. and may , .] [footnote : _the maryland journal and baltimore advocate_, oct. , .] [footnote : _the virginia herald_ (fredericksburg), jan. , ; and _the norfolk and portsmouth chronicle_, april , .] [footnote : _the city gazette and daily advertiser_, jan. and march , ; and _the south carolina weekly gazette_, oct. to , .] [footnote : _the city gaz. and daily adv._, jan. and march , ; and _s.c. weekly gaz._, oct. to , .] [footnote : _the newbern gazette_, may and aug. , ; _the maryland journal and baltimore advertiser_, feb. , ; _the city gazette and daily advertiser_ (charleston, s.c.), sept. , ; oct. , ; aug. and sept. , ; aug. and oct. , ; and march , ; and _maryland gazette_, dec. , ; and april , ; _south carolina weekly advertiser_, oct. to , ; and feb. , ; _the gazette of the state of south carolina_, sept. and nov. , ; and _the carolina gazette_, aug. , .] [footnote : _the city gazette and daily advertiser_, sept. , ; may , ; and oct. , ; _the state gazette of south carolina_, aug. , ; _the gazette of the state of south carolina_, aug. , ; _the maryland gazette_, aug. , ; oct. , ; and aug. , ; and _the columbian herald_, april , .] [footnote : _the city gazette and daily advertiser_, oct. , ; aug. and sept. , ; _the gazette of the state of south carolina_, aug. , .] [footnote : _the city gazette and daily advertiser_, oct. , .] [footnote : _the maryland gazette_, aug. , .] [footnote : _the state gazette of south carolina_, feb. and , .] [footnote : _the maryland journal and baltimore advertiser_, oct. , . _dunlop's maryland gazette and baltimore advertiser_, july , .] [footnote : _the maryland gazette_, may , .] [footnote : _the maryland journal and baltimore advertiser_, oct. , ; and sept. , ; and _the maryland gazette_, may , ; and january , ; _the carolina gazette_, june , ; and _the charleston courier_, june , . _the norfolk and portsmouth chronicle_, march , .] [footnote : _the maryland gazette_, feb. , ; and oct. , ; _the maryland journal and baltimore advertiser_, oct. , ; _the virginia herald_ (fredericksburg), jan. , .] [footnote : _the maryland gazette_, feb. , and feb. , ; _the state gazette of north carolina_, april , ; _the norfolk and portsmouth chronicle_, april , ; _the city gazette and daily advertiser_ (charleston, south carolina), jan. , ; and march , ; _the carolina gazette_, feb. , ; and _the virginia herald_ (fredericksburg), jan. , .] [footnote : _the city gazette and daily advertiser_, jan. , ; and march , ; _the gazette of the state of south carolina_, aug. , ; and _the maryland journal and baltimore advertiser_, sept. , .] [footnote : _the city gazette of south carolina_, jan. , .] [footnote : the city gazette and daily advertiser (charleston, south carolina), june and aug. , ; april and may , .] equally convincing as to the educational progress of the colored race were the high attainments of those negroes who, despite the fact that they had little opportunity, surpassed in intellect a large number of white men of their time. negroes were serving as salesmen, keeping accounts, managing plantations, teaching and preaching, and had intellectually advanced to the extent that fifteen or twenty per cent. of their adults could then at least read. most of this talented class became preachers, as this was the only calling even conditionally open to persons of african blood. among these clergymen was george leile,[ ] who won distinction as a preacher in georgia in , and then went to jamaica where he founded the first baptist church of that colony. the competent and indefatigable andrew bryan[ ] proved to be a worthy successor of george leile in georgia. from to negro preachers were in charge of congregations in charles city, petersburg, and allen's creek in lunenburg county, virginia.[ ] in gowan pamphlet of that state was the pastor of a progressive baptist church, some members of which could read, write, and keep accounts.[ ] lemuel haynes was then widely known as a well-educated minister of the protestant episcopal church. john gloucester, who had been trained under gideon blackburn of tennessee, distinguished himself in philadelphia where he founded the african presbyterian church.[ ] one of the most interesting of these preachers was josiah bishop. by he had made such a record in his profession that he was called to the pastorate of the first baptist church (white) of portsmouth, virginia.[ ] after serving his white brethren a number of years he preached some time in baltimore and then went to new york to take charge of the abyssinian baptist church.[ ] this favorable condition of affairs could not long exist after the aristocratic element in the country began to recover some of the ground it had lost during the social upheaval of the revolutionary era. it was the objection to treating negroes as members on a plane of equality with all, that led to the establishment of colored baptist churches and to the secession of the negro methodists under the leadership of richard allen in . the importance of this movement to the student of education lies in the fact that a larger number of negroes had to be educated to carry on the work of the new churches. [footnote : he was sometimes called george sharp. see benedict, _history of the baptists_, etc., p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : semple, _history of the baptists_, etc., p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : baird, _a collection_, etc., p. .] [footnote : semple, _history of the baptists_, etc., p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] the intellectual progress of the colored people of that day, however, was not restricted to their clergymen. other negroes were learning to excel in various walks of life. two such persons were found in north carolina. one of these was known as caesar, the author of a collection of poems, which, when published in that state, attained a popularity equal to that of bloomfield's.[ ] those who had the pleasure of reading the poems stated that they were characterized by "simplicity, purity, and natural grace."[ ] the other noted negro of north carolina was mentioned in by buchan in his _domestic medicine_ as the discoverer of a remedy for the bite of the rattlesnake. buchan learned from dr. brooks that, in view of the benefits resulting from the discovery of this slave, the general assembly of north carolina purchased his freedom and settled upon him a hundred pounds per annum.[ ] [footnote : baldwin, _observations_, etc., p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : smyth, _a tour in the u.s._, p. ; and baldwin, _observations_, p. .] to this class of bright negroes belonged thomas fuller, a native african, who resided near alexandria, virginia, where he startled the students of his time by his unusual attainments in mathematics, despite the fact that he could neither read nor write. once acquainted with the power of numbers, he commenced his education by counting the hairs of the tail of the horse with which he worked the fields. he soon devised processes for shortening his modes of calculation, attaining such skill and accuracy as to solve the most difficult problems. depending upon his own system of mental arithmetic he learned to obtain accurate results just as quickly as mr. zerah colburn, a noted calculator of that day, who tested the negro mathematician.[ ] the most abstruse questions in relation to time, distance, and space were no task for his miraculous memory, which, when the mathematician was interrupted in the midst of a long and tedious calculation, enabled him to take up some other work and later resume his calculation where he left off.[ ] one of the questions propounded him, was how many seconds of time had elapsed since the birth of an individual who had lived seventy years, seven months, and as many days. fuller was able to answer the question in a minute and a half. [footnote : baldwin, _observations_, p. .] [footnote : needles, _an historical memoir_, etc., p. .] another negro of this type was james durham, a native slave of the city of philadelphia. durham was purchased by dr. dove, a physician in new orleans, who, seeing the divine spark in the slave, gave him a chance for mental development. it was fortunate that he was thrown upon his own resources in this environment, where the miscegenation of the races since the early french settlement, had given rise to a thrifty and progressive class of mixed breeds, many of whom at that time had the privileges and immunities of freemen. durham was not long in acquiring a rudimentary education, and soon learned several modern languages, speaking english, french, and spanish fluently. beginning his medical education early in his career, he finished his course, and by the time he was twenty-one years of age became one of the most distinguished physicians[ ] of new orleans. dr. benjamin rush, the noted physician of philadelphia, who was educated at the edinburgh medical college, once deigned to converse professionally with dr. durham. "i learned more from him than he could expect from me," was the comment of the philadelphian upon a conversation in which he had thought to appear as instructor of the younger physician.[ ] [footnote : brissot de warville, _new travels_, vol. i., p. .] [footnote : baldwin, _observations_, etc., p. .] most prominent among these brainy persons of color were phyllis wheatley and benjamin banneker. the former was a slave girl brought from africa in and put to service in the household of john wheatley of boston. there, without any training but that which she obtained from her master's family, she learned in sixteen months to speak the english language fluently, and to read the most difficult parts of sacred writings. she had a great inclination for latin and made some progress in the study of that language. led to writing by curiosity, she was by possessed of a style which enabled her to count among her correspondents some of the most influential men of her time. phyllis wheatley's title to fame, however, rested not on her general attainments as a scholar but rather on her ability to write poetry. her poems seemed to have such rare merit that men marveled that a slave could possess such a productive imagination, enlightened mind, and poetical genius. the publishers were so much surprised that they sought reassurance as to the authenticity of the poems from such persons as james bowdoin, harrison gray, and john hancock.[ ] glancing at her works, the modern critic would readily say that she was not a poetess, just as the student of political economy would dub adam smith a failure as an economist. a bright college freshman who has studied introductory economics can write a treatise as scientific as the _wealth of nations_. the student of history, however, must not "despise the day of small things." judged according to the standards of her time, phyllis wheatley was an exceptionally intellectual person. [footnote : baldwin, _observations_, etc., p. ; wright, _poems of phyllis wheatley_, introduction.] the other distinguished negro, benjamin banneker, was born in baltimore county, maryland, november , , near the village of ellicott mills. banneker was sent to school in the neighborhood, where he learned reading, writing, and arithmetic. determined to acquire knowledge while toiling, he applied his mind to things intellectual, cultivated the power of observation, and developed a retentive memory. these acquirements finally made him tower above all other american scientists of his time with the possible exception of benjamin franklin. in conformity with his desire to do and create, his tendency was toward mathematics. although he had never seen a clock, watches being the only timepieces in the vicinity, he made in the first clock manufactured in the united states,[ ] thereby attracting the attention of the scientific world. learning these things, the owner of ellicott mills became very much interested in this man of inventive genius, lent him books, and encouraged him in his chosen field. among these volumes were treatises on astronomy, which banneker soon mastered without any instruction.[ ] soon he could calculate eclipses of sun and moon and the rising of each star with an accuracy almost unknown to americans. despite his limited means, he secured through goddard and angell of baltimore the publication of the first almanac produced in this country. jefferson received from banneker a copy, for which he wrote the author a letter of thanks. it appears that jefferson had some doubts about the man's genius, but the fact that the philosopher invited banneker to visit him at monticello in , indicates that the increasing reputation of the negro must have caused jefferson to change his opinion as to the extent of banneker's attainments and the value of his contributions to mathematics and science.[ ] [footnote : washington, _jefferson's works_, vol. v., p. .] [footnote : baldwin, _observations_, etc., p. .] [footnote : washington, _jefferson's works_, vol. v., p. .] so favorable did the aspect of things become as a result of this movement to elevate the negroes, that persons observing the conditions then obtaining in this country thought that the victory for the despised race had been won. traveling in in the colony of virginia, where the slave trade had been abolished and schools for the education of freedmen established, johann schoepf felt that the institution was doomed.[ ] after touring pennsylvania five years later, brissot de warville reported that there existed then a country where the blacks were allowed to have souls, and to be endowed with an understanding capable of being formed to virtue and useful knowledge, and where they were not regarded as beasts of burden in order that their masters might have the privilege of treating them as such. he was pleased that the colored people by their virtue and understanding belied the calumnies which their tyrants elsewhere lavished against them, and that in that community one perceived no difference between "the memory of a black head whose hair is craped by nature, and that of the white one craped by art."[ ] [footnote : schoepf, _travels in the confederation_, p. .] [footnote : brissot de warville, _new travels_, vol. i., p. .] chapter v better beginnings sketching the second half of the eighteenth century, we have observed how the struggle for the rights of man in directing attention to those of low estate, and sweeping away the impediments to religious freedom, made the free blacks more accessible to helpful sects and organizations. we have also learned that this upheaval left the slaves the objects of piety for the sympathetic, the concern of workers in behalf of social uplift, a class offered instruction as a prerequisite to emancipation. the private teaching of negroes became tolerable, benevolent persons volunteered to instruct them, and some schools maintained for the education of white students were thrown open to those of african blood. it was the day of better beginnings. in fact, it was the heyday of victory for the ante-bellum negro. never had his position been so advantageous; never was it thus again until the whole race was emancipated. now the question which naturally arises here is, to what extent were such efforts general? were these beginnings sufficiently extensive to secure adequate enlightenment to a large number of colored people? was interest in the education of this class so widely manifested thereafter as to cause the movement to endure? a brief account of these efforts in the various states will answer these questions. in the northern and middle states an increasing number of educational advantages for the white race made germane the question as to what consideration should be shown to the colored people.[ ] a general admission of negroes to the schools of these progressive communities was undesirable, not because of the prejudice against the race, but on account of the feeling that the past of the colored people having been different from that of the white race, their training should be in keeping with their situation. to meet their peculiar needs many communities thought it best to provide for them "special," "individual," or "unclassified" schools adapted to their condition.[ ] in most cases, however, the movement for separate schools originated not with the white race, but with the people of color themselves. [footnote : _niles's register_, vol. xvi., pp. - and vol. xxiii., p. .] [footnote : see _the proceedings of the am. conv. of abolition societies_.] in new england, negroes had almost from the beginning of their enslavement some chance for mental, moral, and spiritual improvement, but the revolutionary movement was followed in that section by a general effort to elevate the people of color through the influence of the school and church. in the rhode island quakers were endeavoring to give young negroes such an education as becomes christians. in newport had a colored school, maintained by a society of benevolent clergymen of the church of england, with a handsome fund for a mistress to teach thirty children reading and writing. providence did not exhibit such activity until the nineteenth century. having a larger black population than any other city in new england, boston was the center of these endeavors. in a separate school for colored children, under the charge of elisha sylvester, a white man, was established in that city in the house of primus hall, a negro of very good standing.[ ] two years later sixty-six free blacks of that city petitioned the school committee for a separate school, but the citizens in a special town meeting called to consider the question refused to grant this request.[ ] undaunted by this refusal, the patrons of the special school established in the house of primus hall, employed brown and hall of harvard college as instructors, until .[ ] the school was then moved to the african meeting house in belknap street where it remained until when, with funds contributed by abiel smith, a building was erected. an epoch in the history of negro education in new england was marked in , when the city of boston opened its first primary school for the education of colored children.[ ] [footnote : _special report of u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : next to be instructor of this institution was prince saunders, who was brought to boston by dr. channing and caleb bingham in . brought up in the family of a vermont lawyer, and experienced as a diplomatic official of emperor christopher of hayti, prince saunders was able to do much for the advancement of this work. among others who taught in this school was john b. russworm, a graduate of bowdoin college, and, later, governor of the colony of cape palmas in southern liberia. see _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , p. ; and _african repository_, vol. ii., p. .] [footnote : _special rep. of the u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] generally speaking, we can say that while the movement for special colored schools met with some opposition in certain portions of new england, in other parts of the northeastern states the religious organizations and abolition societies, which were espousing the cause of the negro, yielded to this demand. these schools were sometimes found in churches of the north, as in the cases of the schools in the african church of boston, and the sunday-school in the african improved church of new haven. in there was in that city another such school supported by public-school money; three in boston; one in salem; and one in portland, maine.[ ] [footnote : adams, _anti-slavery_, p. .] outside of the city of new york, not so much interest was shown in the education of negroes as in the states which had a larger colored population.[ ] those who were scattered through the state were allowed to attend white schools, which did not "meet their special needs."[ ] in the metropolis, where the blacks constituted one-tenth of the inhabitants in , however, the mental improvement of the dark race could not be neglected. the liberalism of the revolutionary era led to the organization in new york of the "society for promoting the manumission of slaves and protecting such of them as have been or may be liberated." this society ushered in a new day for the free persons of color of that city in organizing in the new york african free school.[ ] among those interested in this organization and its enterprises were melancthon smith, john bleecker, james cogswell, jacob seaman, white matlock, matthew clarkson, nathaniel lawrence, and john murray, jr.[ ] the school opened in with cornelius davis as a teacher of forty pupils. in a lady was employed to instruct the girls in needle-work.[ ] the expected advantage of this industrial training was soon realized. [footnote : la rochefoucauld-liancourt, _travels_, etc., p. .] [footnote : _am. conv._, , p. .] [footnote : andrews, _history of the new york african free schools_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, pp. and .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] despite the support of certain distinguished members of the community, the larger portion of the population was so prejudiced against the school that often the means available for its maintenance were inadequate. the struggle was continued for about fifteen years with an attendance of from forty to sixty pupils.[ ] about the community began to take more interest in the institution, and the negroes "became more generally impressed with a sense of the advantages and importance of education, and more disposed to avail themselves of the privileges offered them."[ ] at this time one hundred and thirty pupils of both sexes attended this school, paying their instructor, a "discreet man of color," according to their ability and inclination.[ ] many more colored children were then able to attend as there had been a considerable increase in the number of colored freeholders. as a result of the introduction of the lancastrian and monitorial systems of instruction the enrollment was further increased and the general tone of the school was improved. another impetus was given the work in .[ ] having in mind the preparation of slaves for freedom, the legislature of the state of new york, made it compulsory for masters to teach all minors born of slaves to read the scriptures.[ ] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : _proceedings of the american convention of abolition societies_, , p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, , report from new york.] [footnote : andrews, _history of the new york african free schools_, p. .] [footnote : _proceedings of the american convention of abolition societies_, , p. .] decided improvement was noted after . the directors then purchased a lot on which they constructed a building the following year.[ ] the nucleus then took the name of the new york "african free schools." these schools grew so rapidly that it was soon necessary to rent additional quarters to accommodate the department of sewing. this work had been made popular by the efforts of misses turpen, eliza j. cox, ann cox, and caroline roe.[ ] the subsequent growth of the classes was such that in the manumission society had to erect a building large enough to accommodate five hundred pupils.[ ] the instructors were then not only teaching the elementary branches of reading, writing, arithmetic, and geography, but also astronomy, navigation, advanced composition, plain sewing, knitting, and marking.[ ] knowing the importance of industrial training, the manumission society then had an indenturing committee find employment in trades for colored children, and had recommended for some of them the pursuit of agriculture.[ ] the comptrollers desired no better way of measuring the success of the system in shaping the character of its students than to be able to boast that no pupils educated there had ever been convicted of crime.[ ] lafayette, a promoter of the emancipation and improvement of the colored people, and a member of the new york manumission society, visited these schools in on his return to the united states. he was bidden welcome by an eleven-year-old pupil in well-chosen and significant words. after spending the afternoon inspecting the schools the general pronounced them the "best disciplined and the most interesting schools of children" he had ever seen.[ ] [footnote : andrews, _history of the new york african free schools_, p. .] [footnote : andrews, _history of the new york african free schools_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : _proceedings of the am. convention of abolition soc._, , p. ; adams, _anti-slavery_, p. .] [footnote : _proceedings of the american convention_, etc., .] [footnote : andrews, _history of the new york african free schools_, p. .] the outlook for the education of negroes in new jersey was unusually bright. carrying out the recommendations of the haddonfield quarterly meeting in , the quakers of salem raised funds for the education of the blacks, secured books, and placed the colored children of the community at school. the delegates sent from that state, to the convention of the abolition societies in , reported that there had been schools in burlington, salem, and trenton for the education of the negro race, but that they had been closed.[ ] it seemed that not much attention had been given to this work there, but that the interest was increasing. these delegates stated that they did not then know of any schools among them exclusively for negroes. in most parts of the state, and most commonly in the northern division, however, they were incorporated with the white children in the various small schools scattered over the state.[ ] there was then in the city of burlington a free school for the education of poor children supported by the profits of an estate left for that particular purpose, and made equally accessible to the children of both races. conditions were just as favorable in gloucester. an account from its antislavery society shows that the local friends of the indigent had funds of about one thousand pounds established for schooling poor children, white and black, without distinction. many of the black children, who were placed by their masters under the care of white instructors, received as good moral and school education as the lower class of whites.[ ] later reports from this state show the same tendency toward democratic education. [footnote : _proceedings of the american convention_, etc., , p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. , and quaker pamphlet, p. .] [footnote : _proceedings of the american conv._, etc., , p. .] the efforts made in this direction in delaware, were encouraging. the abolition society of wilmington had not greatly promoted the special education of "the blacks and the people of color." in , however, a school was kept the first day of the week by one of the members of the society, who instructed them gratis in reading, writing, and arithmetic. about twenty pupils generally attended and by their assiduity and progress showed themselves as "capable as white persons laboring under similar disadvantages."[ ] in plans for the extension of this system were laid and bore good fruit the following year.[ ] seven years later, however, after personal and pecuniary aid had for some time been extended, the workers had still to lament that beneficial effects had not been more generally experienced, and that there was little disposition to aid them in their friendly endeavors.[ ] in more important results had been obtained. through a society formed a few years prior to this date for the express purpose of educating colored children, a school had been established under a negro teacher. he had a fair attendance of bright children, who "by the facility with which they took in instruction were silently but certainly undermining the prejudice"[ ] against their education. a library of religious and moral publications had been secured for this institution. in addition to the school in wilmington there was a large academy for young colored women, gratuitously taught by a society of young ladies. the course of instruction covered reading, writing, and sewing. the work in sewing proved to be a great advantage to the colored girls, many of whom through the instrumentality of that society were provided with good positions.[ ] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, , p. .] [footnote : _proceedings of the american convention_, etc., , p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., , p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., , p. .] in pennsylvania the interest of the large quaker element caused the question of educating negroes to be a matter of more concern to that colony than it was to the others. thanks to the arduous labors of the antislavery movement, emancipation was provided for in . the quakers were then especially anxious to see masters give their "weighty and solid attention" to qualifying slaves for the liberty intended. by the favorable legislation of the state the poor were by allowed the chance to secure the rudiments of education.[ ] despite this favorable appearance of things, however, friends of the despised race had to keep up the agitation for such a construction of the law as would secure to the negroes of the state the educational benefits extended to the indigent. the colored youth of pennsylvania thereafter had the right to attend the schools provided for white children, and exercised it when persons interested in the blacks directed their attention to the importance of mental improvement.[ ] but as neither they nor their defenders were numerous outside of philadelphia and columbia, not many pupils of color in other parts of the state attended school during this period. whatever special effort was made to arouse them to embrace their opportunities came chiefly from the quakers. [footnote : _a.m.e. church review_, vol. xv., p. .] [footnote : wickersham, _history of education in pa_., p. .] not content with the schools which were already opened to negroes, the friends of the race continued to agitate and raise funds to extend their philanthropic operations. with the donation of anthony benezet the quakers were able to enlarge their building and increase the scope of the work. they added a female department in which sarah dwight[ ] was teaching the girls spelling, reading, and sewing in . the work done in philadelphia was so successful that the place became the rallying center for the quakers throughout the country,[ ] and was of so much concern to certain members of this sect in london that in they contributed five hundred pounds toward the support of this school.[ ] in the quakers organized "the society for the free instruction of the orderly blacks and people of color." taking into consideration the "many disadvantages which many well-disposed blacks and people of color labored under from not being able to read, write, or cast accounts, which would qualify them to act for themselves or provide for their families," this society in connection with other organizations established evening schools for the education of adults of african blood.[ ] it is evident then that with the exception of the school of the abolition society organized in , and the efforts of a few other persons generally coöperating like the anti-slavery leaders with the quakers, practically all of the useful education of the colored people of this state was accomplished in their schools. philadelphia had seven colored schools in .[ ] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] [footnote : quaker pamphlet, p. .] [footnote : wickersham, _history of ed. in pa_., p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] [footnote : turner, _the negro in pa_., p. .] the next decade was of larger undertakings.[ ] the report of the pennsylvania abolition society of shows that there had been an increasing interest in negro education. for this purpose the society had raised funds to the amount of $ . per annum for three years.[ ] in certain other friends of the cause left for this purpose two liberal benefactions, one amounting to one thousand dollars, and the other to one thousand pounds.[ ] with these contributions the quakers and abolitionists erected in a handsome building valued at four thousand dollars. they named it clarkson hall in honor of the great friend of the negro race.[ ] in the quakers met the needs of the increasing population of the city by founding an additional institution of learning known as the adelphi school.[ ] [footnote : parish, _remarks on the slavery_, etc., p. .] [footnote : _proceedings of the american conv_., , p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., , p. .] [footnote : _statistical inquiry into the condition of the colored people of philadelphia_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] after the first decade of the nineteenth century the movement for the uplift of the negroes around philadelphia was checked a little by the migration to that city of many freedmen who had been lately liberated. the majority of them did not "exhibit that industry, economy, and temperance" which were "expected by many and wished by all."[ ] not deterred, however, by this seemingly discouraging development, the friends of the race toiled on as before. in certain quaker women who had attempted to establish a school for colored girls in apparently succeeded.[ ] the institution, however, did not last many years. but the clarkson hall schools maintained by the abolition society were then making such progress that the management was satisfied that they furnished a decided refutation of the charge that the "mental endowments of the descendants of the african race are inferior to those possessed by their white brethren."[ ] they asserted without fear of contradiction that the pupils of that seminary would sustain a fair comparison with those of any other institution in which the same elementary branches were taught. in these schools were offering free instruction to three hundred boys and girls, and to a number of adults attending evening schools. these victories had been achieved despite the fact that in regard to some of the objects of the society for the abolition of the slave trade "a tide of prejudice, popular and legislative, set strongly against them."[ ] after , however, help was obtained from the state to educate the colored children of columbia and philadelphia. [footnote : _proceedings of the american conv_., , p. , and , p. .] [footnote : wickersham, _history of ed. in pa_., p. .] [footnote : _proceedings of the american convention_, etc., , report from philadelphia.] [footnote : _ibid_., , report from phila.] the assistance obtained from the state, however, was not taken as a pretext for the cessation of the labors on the part of those who had borne the burden for more than a century. the faithful friends of the colored race remained as active as ever. in the quakers in the northern liberties organized the female association which maintained one or more schools.[ ] that same year the union society founded in for the support of schools and domestic manufactures for the benefit of the "african race and people of color" was conducting three schools for adults.[ ] the infant school society of philadelphia was also doing good work in looking after the education of small colored children.[ ] in the course of time crowded conditions in the colored schools necessitated the opening of additional evening classes and the erection of larger buildings. [footnote : wickersham, _history of education in pa._, p. .] [footnote : one of these was at the sessions house of the third presbyterian church; one at clarkston schoolhouse, cherry street; one in the academy on locust street. see _statistical inquiry into the condition of the colored people of philadelphia_, p. ; and wickersham, _education in pa._, p. .] [footnote : _statistical inquiry_, etc., p. .] at this time maryland was not raising any serious objection to the instruction of slaves, and public sentiment there did not seem to interfere with the education of free persons of color. maryland was long noted for her favorable attitude toward her negroes. we have already observed how banneker, though living in a small place, was permitted to attend school, and how ellicott became interested in this man of genius and furnished him with books. other negroes of that state were enjoying the same privilege. the abolition delegates from maryland reported in that several children of the africans and other people of color were under a course of instruction, and that an academy and qualified teachers for them would be provided.[ ] these negroes were then getting light from another source. having more freedom in this state than in some others, the quakers were allowed to teach colored people. [footnote : _proceedings of the american convention_, etc., , p. .] most interest in the cause in maryland was manifested near the cities of georgetown and baltimore.[ ] long active in the cause of elevating the colored people, the influence of the revolutionary movement was hardly necessary to arouse the catholics to discharge their duty of enlightening the blacks. wherever they had the opportunity to give slaves religious instruction, they generally taught the unfortunates everything that would broaden their horizon and help them to understand life. the abolitionists and protestant churches were also in the field, but the work of the early fathers in these cities was more effective. these forces at work in georgetown made it, by the time of its incorporation into the district of columbia, a center sending out teachers to carry on the instruction of negroes. so liberal were the white people of this town that colored children were sent to school there with white boys and girls who seemed to raise no objection.[ ] later in the nineteenth century the efforts made to educate the negroes of the rural districts of maryland were eclipsed by the better work accomplished by the free blacks in baltimore and the district of columbia. [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed_., pp. _et seq_., and pp. - .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] having a number of antislavery men among the various sects buoyant with religious freedom, virginia easily continued to look with favor upon the uplift of the colored people. the records of the quakers of that day show special effort in this direction there about , , and . in the abolitionists of alexandria, some of whom were quakers, had been doing effective work among the negroes of that section. they had established a school with one benjamin davis as a teacher. he reported an attendance of one hundred and eight pupils, four of whom "could write a very legible hand," "read the scriptures with tolerable facility," and had commenced arithmetic. eight others had learned to read, but had made very little progress in writing. among his less progressive pupils fifteen could spell words of three or four syllables and read easy lessons, some had begun to write, while the others were chiefly engaged in learning the alphabet and spelling monosyllables.[ ] it is significant that colored children of alexandria, just as in the case of georgetown, attended schools established for the whites.[ ] their coeducation extended not only to sabbath schools but to other institutions of learning, which some negroes attended during the week.[ ] mrs. maria hall, one of the early teachers of the district of columbia, obtained her education in a mixed school of alexandria.[ ] controlled then by aristocratic people who did not neglect the people of color, alexandria also became a sort of center for the uplift of the blacks in northern virginia. [footnote : _proceedings of the am. conv_., etc., , p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., , p. .] [footnote : _proceedings of the am. conv._, p. ; _ibid._, , p. .] [footnote : _special report of u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] schools for the education of negroes were established in richmond, petersburg, and norfolk. an extensive miscegenation of the races in these cities had given rise to a very intelligent class of slaves and a considerable number of thrifty free persons of color, in whom the best people early learned to show much interest.[ ] of the schools organized for them in the central part of the commonwealth, those about richmond seemed to be less prosperous. the abolitionists of virginia, reporting for that city in , said that considerable progress had been made in the education of the blacks, and that they contemplated the establishment of a school for the instruction of negroes and other persons. they were apprehensive, however, that their funds would be scarcely sufficient for this purpose.[ ] in , one year after gabriel's insurrection, the abolitionists of richmond reported that the cause had been hindered by the "rapacious disposition which emboldened many tyrants" among them "to trample upon the rights of colored people even in the violation of the laws of the state." for this reason the complainants felt that, although they could not but unite in the opinion with the american convention of abolition societies as to the importance of educating the slaves for living as freedmen, they were compelled on account of a "domineering spirit of power and usurpation"[ ] to direct attention to the negroes' bodily comfort. [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : _proceedings of the am. conv._, etc., , p. .] [footnote : _proceedings of the am. conv_., , p. .] this situation, however, was not sufficiently alarming to deter all the promoters of negro education in virginia. it is remarkable how robert pleasants, a quaker of that state who emancipated his slaves at his death in , had united with other members of his sect to establish a school for colored people. in they circulated a pamphlet entitled "proposals for establishing a free school for the instruction of children of blacks and people of color."[ ] they recommended to the humane and benevolent of all denominations cheerfully to contribute to an institution "calculated to promote the spiritual and temporal interests of that unfortunate part of our fellow creatures in forming their minds in the principles of virtue and religion, and in common or useful literature, writing, ciphering, and mechanic arts, as the most likely means to render so numerous a people fit for freedom, and to become useful citizens." pleasants proposed to establish a school on a three-hundred-and-fifty-acre tract of his own land at gravelly hills near four-mile creek, henrico county. the whole revenue of the land was to go toward the support of the institution, or, in the event the school should be established elsewhere, he would give it one hundred pounds. ebenezer maule, another friend, subscribed fifty pounds for the same purpose.[ ] exactly what the outcome was, no one knows; but the memorial on the life of pleasants shows that he appropriated the rent of the three-hundred-and-fifty-acre tract and ten pounds per annum to the establishment of a free school for negroes, and that a few years after his death such an institution was in operation under a friend at gravelly run.[ ] [footnote : weeks, _southern quakers_, p. .] [footnote : weeks, _southern quakers_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] such philanthropy, however, did not become general in virginia. the progress of negro education there was decidedly checked by the rapid development of discontent among negroes ambitious to emulate the example of toussaint l'ouverture. during the first quarter of the nineteenth century that commonwealth tolerated much less enlightenment of the colored people than the benevolent element allowed them in the other border states. the custom of teaching colored pauper children apprenticed by church-wardens was prohibited by statute immediately after gabriel's insurrection in .[ ] negroes eager to learn were thereafter largely restricted to private tutoring and instruction offered in sabbath-schools. furthermore, as virginia developed few urban communities there were not sufficient persons of color in any one place to coöperate in enlightening themselves even as much as public sentiment allowed. after virginia negroes had practically no chance to educate themselves. [footnote : hening, _statutes at large_, vol. xvi., p. .] north carolina, not unlike the border states in their good treatment of free persons of color, placed such little restriction on the improvement of the colored people that they early attained rank among the most enlightened ante-bellum negroes. this interest, largely on account of the zeal of the antislavery leaders and quakers,[ ] continued unabated from , the time of their greatest activity, to the period of the intense abolition agitation and the servile insurrections. in the quakers were still exhorting their members to establish schools for the literary and religious instruction of negroes.[ ] the following year a school for negroes was opened for two days in a week.[ ] so successful was the work done by the quakers during this period that they could report in that most colored minors in the western quarter had been "put in a way to get a portion of school learning."[ ] in some of them could spell and a few could write. the plan of these workers was to extend the instruction until males could "read, write, and cipher," and until the females could "read and write."[ ] [footnote : weeks, _southern quakers_, p. ; levi coffin, _reminiscences_, pp. - ; bassett, _slavery in north carolina_, p. .] [footnote : weeks, _southern quakers_, p. .] [footnote : thwaites, _early travels_, vol. ii., p. .] [footnote : weeks, _southern quakers_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., .] in the course of time, however, these philanthropists met with some discouragement. in certain masters were sending their slaves to a sunday-school opened by levi coffin and his son vestal. before the slaves had learned more than to spell words of two or three syllables other masters became unduly alarmed, thinking that such instruction would make the slaves discontented.[ ] the timorous element threatened the teachers with the terrors of the law, induced the benevolent slaveholders to prohibit the attendance of their negroes, and had the school closed.[ ] moreover, it became more difficult to obtain aid for this cause. between and the north carolina manumission societies were redoubling their efforts to raise funds for this purpose. by they had collected $ . but had not increased this amount more than $ . two years later.[ ] [footnote : coffin, _reminiscences_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] [footnote : weeks, _southern quakers_, p. .] the work done by the various workers in north carolina did not affect the general improvement of the slaves, but thanks to the humanitarian movement, they were not entirely neglected. in the general association of the manumission societies of that commonwealth complained that the laws made no provision for the moral improvement of the slaves.[ ] though learning was in a very small degree diffused among the colored people of a few sections, it was almost unknown to the slaves. they pointed out, too, that the little instruction some of the slaves had received, and by which a few had been taught to spell, or perhaps to read in "easy places," was not due to any legal provision, but solely to the charity "which endureth all things" and is willing to suffer reproach for the sake of being instrumental in "delivering the poor that cry" and "directing the wanderer in the right way."[ ] to ameliorate these conditions the association recommended among other things the enactment of a law providing for the instruction of slaves in the elementary principles of language at least so far as to enable them to read the holy scriptures.[ ] the reaction culminated, however, before this plan could be properly presented to the people of that commonwealth. [footnote : an address to the people of north carolina on the evils of slavery by the friends of liberty and equality, _passim_.] [footnote : _ibid._] [footnote : _ibid._] during these years an exceptionally bright negro was serving as a teacher not of his own race but of the most aristocratic white people of north carolina. this educator was a freeman named john chavis. he was born probably near oxford, granville county, about . chavis was a full-blooded negro of dark brown color. early attracting the attention of his white neighbors, he was sent to princeton "to see if a negro would take a collegiate education." his rapid advancement under dr. witherspoon "soon convinced his friends that the experiment would issue favorable."[ ] there he took rank as a good latin and a fair greek scholar. [footnote : bassett, _slavery in north carolina_, p. .] from princeton he went to virginia to preach to his own people. in he served at the hanover presbytery as a "riding missionary under the direction of the general assembly."[ ] he was then reported also as a regularly commissioned preacher to his people in lexington. in he returned to north carolina where he often preached to various congregations.[ ] his career as a clergyman was brought to a close in by the law enacted to prevent negroes from preaching.[ ] thereafter he confined himself to teaching, which was by far his most important work. he opened a classical school for white persons, "teaching in granville, wake, and chatham counties."[ ] the best people of the community patronized this school. chavis counted among his students w.p. mangum, afterwards united states senator, p.h. mangum, his brother, archibald and john henderson, sons of chief justice henderson, charles manly, afterwards governor of that commonwealth, and dr. james l. wortham of oxford, north carolina.[ ] [footnote : _ibid_., p. ; and baird, _a collection_, etc., pp. - .] [footnote : paul c. cameron, a son of judge duncan of north carolina, said: "in my boyhood life at my father's home i often saw john chavis, a venerable old negro man, recognized as a freeman and as a preacher or clergyman of the presbyterian church. as such he was received by my father and treated with kindness and consideration, and respected as a man of education, good sense and most estimable character." mr. george wortham, a lawyer of granville county, said: "i have heard him read and explain the scriptures to my father's family repeatedly. his english was remarkably pure, containing no 'negroisms'; his manner was impressive, his explanations clear and concise, and his views, as i then thought and still think, entirely orthodox. he was said to have been an acceptable preacher, his sermons abounding in strong common sense views and happy illustrations, without any effort at oratory or sensational appeals to the passions of his hearers." see bassett, _slavery in n.c_., pp. - .] [footnote : see chapter vii.] [footnote : bassett, _slavery in north carolina_, p. .] [footnote : john s. bassett, professor of history at trinity college, north carolina, learned from a source of great respectability that chavis not only taught the children of these distinguished families, but "was received as an equal socially and asked to table by the most respectable people of the neighborhood." see bassett, _slavery in north carolina_, p. .] we have no evidence of any such favorable conditions in south carolina. there was not much public education of the negroes of that state even during the revolutionary epoch. regarding education as a matter of concern to persons immediately interested south carolinians had long since learned to depend on private instruction for the training of their youth. colored schools were not thought of outside of charleston. yet although south carolina prohibited the education of the slaves in [ ] and seemingly that of other negroes in ,[ ] these measures were not considered a direct attack on the instruction of free persons of color. furthermore, the law in regard to the teaching of the blacks was ignored by sympathetic masters. colored persons serving in families and attending traveling men shared with white children the advantage of being taught at home. free persons of color remaining accessible to teachers and missionaries interested in the propagation of the gospel among the poor still had the opportunity to make intellectual advancement.[ ] [footnote : brevard, _digest of the public statute law of south carolina_, vol. ii., p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] [footnote : laws of and , and simmons, _men of mark_, p. .] although not as reactionary as south carolina, little could be expected of georgia where slavery had such a firm hold. unfavorable as conditions in that state were, however, they were not intolerable. it was still lawful for a slave to learn to read, and free persons of color had the privilege of acquiring any knowledge whatsoever.[ ] the chief incentive to the education of negroes in that state came from the rising methodists and baptists who, bringing a simple message to plain people, instilled into their minds as never before the idea that the bible being the revelation of god, all men should be taught to read that book.[ ] [footnote : marbury and crawford, _digest of the laws of the state of georgia_, p. .] [footnote : orr, _education in the south_.] in the territory known as louisiana the good treatment of the mixed breeds and the slaves by the french assured for years the privilege to attend school. rev. james flint, of salem, massachusetts, received letters from a friend in louisiana, who, in pointing out conditions around him, said: "in the regions where i live masters allow entire liberty to the slaves to attend public worship, and as far as my knowledge extends, it is generally the case in louisiana. we have," said he, "regular meetings of the blacks in the building where i attend public worship. i have in the past years devoted myself assiduously, every sabbath morning, to the labor of learning them to read. i found them quick of apprehension, and capable of grasping the rudiments of learning more rapidly than the whites."[ ] [footnote : flint, _recollections of the last ten years_, p. .] later the problem of educating negroes in this section became more difficult. the trouble was that contrary to the stipulation in the treaty of purchase that the inhabitants of the territory of louisiana should be admitted to all the rights and immunities of citizens of the united states, the state legislation, subsequent to the transfer of jurisdiction, denied the right of education to a large class of mixed breeds.[ ] many of these, thanks to the liberality of the french, had been freed, and constituted an important element of society. not a few of them had educated themselves, accumulated wealth, and ranked with white men of refinement and culture.[ ] [footnote : laws of louisiana.] [footnote : alliot, _collections historiques_, p. ; and thwaites, _early western travels_, vol. iv., pp. and ; vol. xii., p. ; and vol. xix., p. .] considering the few negroes found in the west, the interest shown there in their mental uplift was considerable. because of the scarcity of slaves in that section they came into helpful contact with their masters. besides, the kentucky and tennessee abolitionists, being much longer active than those in most slave states, continued to emphasize the education of the blacks as a correlative to emancipation. furthermore, the western baptists, methodists, and scotch-irish presbyterians early took a stand against slavery, and urged the masters to give their servants all the proper advantages for acquiring the knowledge of their duty both to man and god. in the large towns of tennessee negroes were permitted to attend private schools, and in louisville and lexington there were several well-regulated colored schools. two institutions for the education of slaves in the west are mentioned during these years. in october, , there appeared an advertisement for eight or ten negro slaves with their families to form a community of this kind under the direction of an "emancipating labor society" of the state of kentucky. in the same year frances wright suggested a school on a similar basis. she advertised in the "genius of universal emancipation" an establishment to educate freed blacks and mulattoes in west tennessee. this was supported by a goodly number of persons, including george fowler and, it was said, lafayette. a letter from a presbyterian clergyman in south carolina says that the first slave for this institution went from york district of that state. the enterprise, however, was not well supported, and little was heard of it in later years. some asserted it was a money-making scheme for the proprietor, and that the negroes taught there were in reality slaves; others went to the press to defend it as a benevolent effort. both sides so muddled the affair that it is difficult to determine exactly what the intentions of the founders were.[ ] [footnote : adams, _anti-slavery_, p. .] chapter vi educating the urban negro such an impetus was given negro education during the period of better beginnings that some of the colored city schools then established have existed even until to-day. negroes learned from their white friends to educate themselves. in the middle and southern states, however, much of the sentiment in favor of developing the intellect of the negro passed away during the early part of the nineteenth century. this reform, like many others of that day, suffered when americans forgot the struggle for the rights of man. recovering from the social upheaval of the revolution, caste soon began to claim its own. to discourage the education of the lowest class was natural to the aristocrats who on coming to power established governments based on the representation of interests, restriction of suffrage, and the ineligibility of the poor to office. after this period the work of enlightening the blacks in the southern and border states was largely confined to a few towns and cities where the concentration of the colored population continued. the rise of the american city made possible the contact of the colored people with the world, affording them a chance to observe what the white man was doing, and to develop the power to care for themselves. the negroes who had this opportunity to take over the western civilization were servants belonging to the families for which they worked; slaves hired out by their owners to wait upon persons; and watermen, embracing fishermen, boatmen, and sailors. not a few slaves in cities were mechanics, clerks, and overseers. in most of these employments the rudiments of an education were necessary, and what the master did not seem disposed to teach the slaves so situated, they usually learned by contact with their fellowmen who were better informed. such persons were the mulattoes resulting from miscegenation, and therefore protected from the rigors of the slave code; house servants, rewarded with unusual privileges for fidelity and for manifesting considerable interest in things contributing to the economic good of their masters; and slaves who were purchasing their freedom.[ ] before the close of the first quarter of the nineteenth century not much was said about what these classes learned or taught. it was then the difference in circumstances, employment, and opportunities for improvement that made the urban negro more intelligent than those who had to toil in the fields. yet, the proportion did not differ very much from that of the previous period, as the first negroes were not chiefly field hands but to a considerable extent house servants, whom masters often taught to read and write. [footnote : jones, _religious instruction_, p. .] urban negroes had another important advantage in their opportunity to attend well-regulated sunday-schools. these were extensively organized in the towns and cities of this country during the first decades of the last century. the "sabbath-school" constituted an important factor in negro education. although cloaked with the purpose of bringing the blacks to god by giving them religious instruction the institution permitted its workers to teach them reading and writing when they were not allowed to study such in other institutions.[ ] even the radical slaveholder was slow to object to a policy which was intended to facilitate the conversion of men's souls. all friends especially interested in the mental and spiritual uplift of the race hailed this movement as marking an epoch in the elevation of the colored people. [footnote : see the reports of almost any abolition society of the first quarter of the nineteenth century. _special report of the u.s. com. of ed_., , p. ; and plumer, _thoughts on the religious instruction of negroes_.] in the course of time racial difficulties caused the development of the colored "sabbath-school" to be very much like that of the american negro church. it began as an establishment in the white churches, then moved to the colored chapels, where white persons assisted as teachers, and finally became an organization composed entirely of negroes. but the separation here, as in the case of the church, was productive of some good. the "sabbath-schools," which at first depended on white teachers to direct their work, were thereafter carried on by negroes, who studied and prepared themselves to perform the task given up by their former friends. this change was easily made in certain towns and cities where negroes already had churches of their own. before there was a methodist church in charleston, south carolina, with a membership of eighteen hundred, more than one thousand of whom were persons of color. about this time, williamsburg and augusta had one each, and savannah three colored baptist churches. by the negroes of petersburg had in addition to two churches of this denomination, a flourishing african missionary society.[ ] in washington, baltimore, philadelphia, new york, and boston the free blacks had experienced such a rapid religious development that colored churches in these cities were no longer considered unusual. [footnote : adams, _anti-slavery_, etc., pp. and .] the increase in the population of cities brought a larger number of these unfortunates into helpful contact with the urban element of white people who, having few negroes, often opposed the institution of slavery. but thrown among colored people brought in their crude state into sections of culture, the antislavery men of towns and cities developed from theorists, discussing a problem of concern to persons far away, into actual workers striving by means of education to pave the way for universal freedom.[ ] large as the number of abolitionists became and bright as the future of their cause seemed, the more the antislavery men saw of the freedmen in congested districts, the more inclined the reformers were to think that instant abolition was an event which they "could not reasonably expect, and perhaps could not desire." being in a state of deplorable ignorance, the slaves did not possess sufficient information "to render their immediate emancipation a blessing either to themselves or to society."[ ] [footnote : as some masters regarded the ignorance of the slaves as an argument against their emancipation, the antislavery men's problem became the education of the master as well as that of the slave. believing that intellectual and moral improvement is a "safe and permanent basis on which the arch of freedom could be erected," jesse torrey, harking back to jefferson's proposition, recommended that it begin by instructing the slaveholders, overseers, their sons and daughters, hitherto deprived of the blessing of education. then he thought that such enlightened masters should see to it that every slave less than thirty years of age should be taught the art of reading sufficiently for receiving moral and religious instruction from books in the english language. in presenting this scheme torrey had the idea of most of the antislavery men of that day, who advocated the education of slaves because they believed that, whenever the slaves should become qualified by intelligence and moral cultivation for the rational enjoyment of liberty and the performance of the various social duties, enlightened legislators would listen to the voice of reason and justice and the spirit of the social organization, and permit the release of the slave without banishing him as a traitor from his native land. see torrey's _portraiture of domestic slavery_, p. .] [footnote : sidney, _an oration commemorative of the abolition of the slave trade in the united states_, p. ; and adams, _anti-slavery_, etc., pp. , , , and .] yet in the same proportion that antislavery men convinced masters of the wisdom of the policy of gradual emancipation, they increased their own burden of providing extra facilities of education, for liberated negroes generally made their way from the south to urban communities of the northern and middle states. the friends of the colored people, however, met this exigency by establishing additional schools and repeatedly entreating these migrating freedmen to avail themselves of their opportunities. the address of the american convention of abolition societies in is typical of these appeals.[ ] they requested free persons of color to endeavor as much as possible to use economy in their expenses, to save something from their earnings for the education of their children ... and "let all those who by attending to this admonition have acquired means, send their children to school as soon as they are old enough, where their morals will be an object of attention as well as their improvement in school learning." then followed some advice which would now seem strange. they said, "encourage, also, those among you who are qualified as teachers of schools, and when you are able to pay, never send your children to free schools; for this may be considered as robbing the poor of their opportunities which are intended for them alone."[ ] [footnote : _proceedings of the american convention_, etc., , p. .] [footnote : _proceedings of the american convention_, etc., , p. .] the concentration of the colored population in cities and towns where they had better educational advantages tended to make colored city schools self-supporting. there developed a class of self-educating negroes who were able to provide for their own enlightenment. this condition, however, did not obtain throughout the south. being a proslavery farming section of few large towns and cities, that part of the country did not see much development of the self-sufficient class. what enlightenment most urban blacks of the south experienced resulted mainly from private teaching and religious instruction. there were some notable exceptions, however. a colored "santo dominican" named julian troumontaine taught openly in savannah up to when such an act was prohibited by law. he taught clandestinely thereafter, however, until .[ ] in new orleans, where the creoles and freedmen counted early in the nineteenth century as a substantial element in society, persons of color had secured to themselves better facilities of education. the people of this city did not then regard it as a crime for negroes to acquire an education, their white instructors felt that they were not condescending in teaching them, and children of caucasian blood raised no objection to attending special and parochial schools accessible to both races. the educational privileges which the colored people there enjoyed, however, were largely paid for by the progressive freedmen themselves.[ ] some of them educated their children in france. [footnote : wright, _negro education in georgia_, p. .] [footnote : many of the mixed breeds of new orleans were leading business men.] charleston, south carolina, furnished a good example of a center of unusual activity and rapid strides of self-educating urban negroes. driven to the point of doing for themselves, the free people of color of this city organized in the "minor society" to secure to their orphan children the benefits of education.[ ] bishop payne, who studied later under thomas bonneau, attended the school founded by this organization. other colored schools were doing successful work. enjoying these unusual advantages the negroes of charleston were early in the nineteenth century ranked by some as economically and intellectually superior to any other such persons in the united states. a large portion of the leading mechanics, fashionable tailors, shoe manufacturers, and mantua-makers were free blacks, who enjoyed "a consideration in the community far more than that enjoyed by any of the colored population in the northern cities."[ ] as such positions required considerable skill and intelligence, these laborers had of necessity acquired a large share of useful knowledge. the favorable circumstances of the negroes in certain liberal southern cities like charleston were the cause of their return from the north to the south, where they often had a better opportunity for mental as well as economic improvement.[ ] the return of certain negroes from philadelphia to petersburg, virginia, during the first decade of the nineteenth century, is a case in evidence.[ ] [footnote : simmons, _men of mark_, p. .] [footnote : _niles register_, vol. xlix., p. .] [footnote : _notions of the americans_, p. .] [footnote : wright, _views of society and manners in america_, p. .] the successful strivings of the race in the district of columbia furnish us with striking examples of negroes making educational progress. when two white teachers, henry potter and mrs. haley, invited black children to study with their white pupils, the colored people gladly availed themselves of this opportunity.[ ] mrs. maria billings, the first to establish a real school for negroes in georgetown, soon discovered that she had their hearty support. she had pupils from all parts of the district of columbia, and from as far as bladensburg, maryland. the tuition fee in some of these schools was a little high, but many free blacks of the district of columbia were sufficiently well established to meet these demands. the rapid progress made by the bell and browning families during this period was of much encouragement to the ambitious colored people, who were laboring to educate their children.[ ] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , pp. _et seq._] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] the city negroes, however, were learning to do more than merely attend accessible elementary schools. in george bell, nicholas franklin, and moses liverpool, former slaves, built the first colored schoolhouse in the district of columbia. just emerging from bondage, these men could not teach themselves, but employed a white man to take charge of the school.[ ] it was not a success. pupils of color thereafter attended the school of anne maria hall, a teacher from prince george county, maryland, and those of teachers who instructed white children.[ ] the ambitious negroes of the district of columbia, however, were not discouraged by the first failure to provide their own educational facilities. the bell school which had been closed and used as a dwelling, opened again in under the auspices of an association of free people of color of the city of washington called the "resolute beneficial society." the school was declared open then "for the reception of free people of color and others that ladies and gentlemen may think proper to send to be instructed in reading, writing, arithmetic, english grammar, or other branches of education apposite to their capacities, by steady, active and experienced teachers, whose attention is wholly devoted to the purpose described." the founders presumed that free colored families would embrace the advantages thus presented to them either by subscription to the funds of the society or by sending their children to the school. since the improvement of the intellect and the morals of the colored youth were the objects of the institution, the patronage of benevolent ladies and gentlemen was solicited. they declared, too, that "to avoid disagreeable occurrences no writing was to be done by the teacher for a slave, neither directly nor indirectly to serve the purpose of a slave on any account whatever."[ ] this school was continued until under mr. pierpont, of massachusetts, a relative of the poet. he was succeeded two years later by john adams, a shoemaker, who was known as the first negro to teach in the district of columbia.[ ] [footnote : _ibid._, .] [footnote : _ibid._, .] [footnote : _daily national intelligencer_, august , .] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] of equal importance was the colored seminary established by henry smothers, a pupil of mrs. billings. like her, he taught first in georgetown. he began his advanced work near the treasury building, having an attendance of probably one hundred and fifty pupils, generally paying tuition. the fee, however, was not compulsory. smothers taught for about two years, and then was succeeded by john prout, a colored man of rare talents, who later did much in opposition to the scheme of transporting negroes to africa before they had the benefits of education.[ ] the school was then called the "columbian institute." prout was later assisted by mrs. anne maria hall.[ ] [footnote : _ibid._, , p. .] [footnote : other schools of importance were springing up from year to year. as early as mrs. mary wall, a member of the society of friends, had opened a school for negroes and received so many applications that many had to be refused. from this school came many well-prepared colored men, among whom were james wormley and john thomas johnson. another school was established by thomas tabbs, who received "a polished education from the distinguished maryland family to which he belonged." mr. tabbs came to washington before the war of and began teaching those who came to him when he had a schoolhouse, and when he had none he went from house to house, stopping even under the trees to teach wherever he found pupils who were interested. see _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , pp. , , and .] of this self-educative work of negroes some of the best was accomplished by colored women. with the assistance of father vanlomen, the benevolent priest then in charge of the holy trinity church, maria becraft, the most capable colored woman in the district of columbia at that time, established there the first seminary for the education of colored girls. she had begun to teach in a less desirable section, but impressed with the unusual beauty and strong character of this girl, father vanlomen had her school transferred to a larger building on fayette street where she taught until . she then turned over her seminary to girls she had trained, and became a teacher in a convent at baltimore as a sister of providence.[ ] other good results were obtained by louisa parke costin, a member of one of the oldest colored families in the district of columbia. desiring to diffuse the knowledge she acquired from white teachers in the early mixed schools of the district, she decided to teach. she opened her school just about the time that henry smothers was making his reputation as an educator. she died in , after years of successful work had crowned her efforts. her task was then taken up by her sister, martha, who had been trained in the convent seminary of baltimore.[ ] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] equally helpful was the work of arabella jones. educated at the st. frances academy at baltimore, she was well grounded in the english branches and fluent in french. she taught on the "island," calling her school "the st. agnes academy."[ ] another worker of this class was mary wormley, once a student in the colored female seminary of philadelphia under sarah douglass. this lady began teaching about , getting some assistance from mr. calvert, an englishman.[ ] the institution passed later into the hands of thomas lee, during the incumbency of whom the school was closed by the "snow riot." this was an attempt on the part of the white people to get rid of the progressive negroes of the district of columbia. their excuse for such drastic action was that benjamin snow, a colored man running a restaurant in the city, had made unbecoming remarks about the wives of the white mechanics.[ ] john f. cook, one of the most influential educators produced in the district of columbia, was driven out of the city by this mob. he then taught at lancaster, pa. [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, p. .] while the colored schools of the district of columbia suffered as a result of this disturbance, the negroes then in charge of them were too ambitious, too well-educated to discontinue their work. the situation, however, was in no sense encouraging. with the exception of the churches of the catholics and quakers who vied with each other in maintaining a benevolent attitude toward the education of the colored people,[ ] the churches of the district of columbia, in the sabbath schools of which negroes once sat in the same seats with white persons, were on account of this riot closed to the darker race.[ ] this expulsion however, was not an unmixed evil, for the colored people themselves thereafter established and directed a larger number of institutions of learning.[ ] [footnote : the catholics admitted the colored people to their churches on equal footing with others when they were driven to the galleries of the protestant churches. furthermore, they continued to admit them to their parochial schools. the sisters of georgetown trained colored girls, and the parochial school of the aloysius church at one time had as many as two hundred and fifty pupils of color. many of the first colored teachers of the district of columbia obtained their education in these schools. see _special report of u.s. com. of ed._, , p. _et. seq._] [footnote : _sp. report_, etc. , pp. , , , , .] [footnote : _ibid._, pp. - .] the colored schools of the district of columbia soon resumed their growth recovering most of the ground they had lost and exhibiting evidences of more systematic work. these schools ceased to be elementary classes, offering merely courses in reading and writing, but developed into institutions of higher grade supplied with competent teachers. among other useful schools then flourishing in this vicinity were those of alfred h. parry, nancy grant, benjamin mccoy, john thomas johnson, james enoch ambush, and dr. john h. fleet.[ ] john f. cook returned from pennsylvania and reopened his seminary.[ ] about this time there flourished a school established by fannie hampton. after her death the work was carried on by margaret thompson until . she then married charles middleton and became his assistant teacher. he was a free negro who had been educated in savannah, georgia, while attending school with white and colored children. he founded a successful school about the time that fleet and johnson[ ] retired. middleton's school, however, owes its importance to the fact that it was connected with the movement for free colored public schools started by jesse e. dow, an official of the city, and supported by rev. doctor wayman, then pastor of the bethel church.[ ] other colaborers with these teachers were alexander cornish, richard stokes, and margaret hill.[ ] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , pp. , , and .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : compelled to leave washington in because of the persecution of free persons of color, johnson stopped in pittsburg where he entered a competitive teacher examination with two white aspirants and won the coveted position. he taught in pittsburg several years, worked on the mississippi a while, returned later to washington, and in constructed a building in which he opened another school. it was attended by from to students, most of whom belonged to the most prominent colored families of the district of columbia. see _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, pp. - .] then came another effort on a large scale. this was the school of alexander hays, an emancipated slave of the fowler family of maryland. hays succeeded his wife as a teacher. he soon had the support of such prominent men as rev. doctor sampson, william winston seaton and r.s. coxe. joseph t. and thomas h. mason and mr. and mrs. fletcher were hays's contemporaries. the last two were teachers from england. on account of the feeling then developing against white persons instructing negroes, these philanthropists saw their schoolhouses burned, themselves expelled from the white churches, and finally driven from the city in .[ ] other white men and women were teaching colored children during these years. the most prominent of these were thomas tabbs, an erratic philanthropist, mr. nutall, an englishman; mr. talbot, a successful tutor stationed near the present site of the franklin school; and mrs. george ford, a virginian, conducting a school on new jersey avenue between k and l streets.[ ] the efforts of miss myrtilla miner, their contemporary, will be mentioned elsewhere.[ ] [footnote : besides the classes taught by these workers there was the eliza ann cook private school; miss washington's school; a select primary school; a free catholic school maintained by the st. vincent de paul society, an association of colored catholics in connection with st. matthew's church. this institution was organized by the benevolent father walter at the smothers school. then there were teachers like elizabeth smith, isabella briscoe, charlotte beams, james shorter, charlotte gordon, and david brown. furthermore, various churches, parochial, and sunday-schools were then sharing the burden of educating the negro population of the district of columbia. see _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , pp. , , , , _et seq._] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : o'connor, myrtilla miner, p. .] the negroes of baltimore were almost as self-educating as those of the district of columbia. the coming of the refugees and french fathers from santo domingo to baltimore to escape the revolution[ ] marked an epoch in the intellectual progress of the colored people of that city. thereafter their intellectual class had access to an increasing black population, anxious to be enlightened. given this better working basis, they secured from the ranks of the catholics additional catechists and teachers to give a larger number of illiterates the fundamentals of education. their untiring co-worker in furnishing these facilities, was the most reverend ambrose maréchal, archbishop of baltimore from to .[ ] these schools were such an improvement over those formerly opened to negroes that colored youths of other towns and cities thereafter came to baltimore for higher training.[ ] [footnote : drewery, _slave insurrections in virginia_, p. .] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] the coming of these refugees to baltimore had a direct bearing on the education of colored girls. their condition excited the sympathy of the immigrating colored women. these ladies had been educated both in the island of santo domingo and in paris. at once interested in the uplift of this sex, they soon constituted the nucleus of the society that finally formed the st. frances academy for girls in connection with the oblate sisters of providence convent in baltimore, june , .[ ] this step was sanctioned by the reverend james whitefield, the successor of archbishop maréchal, and was later approved by the holy see. the institution was located on richmond street in a building which on account of the rapid growth of the school soon gave way to larger quarters. the aim of the institution was to train girls, all of whom "would become mothers or household servants, in such solid virtues and religious and moral principles as modesty, honesty, and integrity."[ ] to reach this end they endeavored to supply the school with cultivated and capable teachers. students were offered courses in all the branches of "refined and useful education, including all that is regularly taught in well regulated female seminaries."[ ] this school was so well maintained that it survived all reactionary attacks and became a center of enlightenment for colored women. [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, p. .] at the same time there were other persons and organizations in the field. prominent among the first of these workers was daniel coker, known to fame as a colored methodist missionary, who was sent to liberia. prior to he had in baltimore an academy which certain students from washington attended when they had no good schools of their own, and when white persons began to object to the co-education of the races. because of these conditions two daughters of george bell, the builder of the first colored schoolhouse in the district of columbia, went to baltimore to study under coker.[ ] an adult negro school in this city had pupils in . there were then in the baltimore sunday-schools about negroes. they had formed themselves into a bible association which had been received into the connection of the baltimore bible society.[ ] in the negroes there had a day and a night school, giving courses in latin and french. four years later there appeared an "african free school" with an attendance of from to every sunday.[ ] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : adams, _anti-slavery_, etc., p. .] [footnote : adams, _anti-slavery_, etc., pp. and .] by the negroes of baltimore had several special schools of their own.[ ] in there was behind the african methodist church in sharp street a school of seventy pupils in charge of william watkins.[ ] w. livingston, an ordained clergyman of the episcopal church, had then a colored school of eighty pupils in the african church at the corner of saratoga and ninth streets.[ ] a third school of this kind was kept by john fortie at the methodist bethel church in fish street. five or six other schools of some consequence were maintained by free women of color, who owed their education to the convent of the oblate sisters of providence.[ ] observing these conditions, an interested person thought that much more would have been accomplished in that community, if the friends of the colored people had been able to find workers acceptable to the masters and at the same time competent to teach the slaves.[ ] yet another observer felt that the negroes of baltimore had more opportunities than they embraced.[ ] [footnote : buckingham, _america, historical_, etc., vol. i., p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. ; andrews, _slavery and the domestic slave trade_, pp. , , and ; and varle, _a complete view of baltimore_, p. .] [footnote : varle, _a complete view of baltimore_, p. ; and andrews, _slavery and the domestic slave trade_, pp. and .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] these conditions, however, were so favorable in that when professor e.a. andrews came to baltimore to introduce the work of the american union for the relief and improvement of the colored people,[ ] he was informed that the education of the negroes of that city was fairly well provided for. evidently the need was that the "systematic and sustained exertions" of the workers should spring from a more nearly perfect organization "to give efficiency to their philanthropic labors."[ ] he was informed that as his society was of new england, it would on account of its origin in the wrong quarter, be productive of mischief.[ ] the leading people of baltimore thought that it would be better to accomplish this task through the colonization society, a southern organization carrying out the very policy which the american union proposed to pursue.[ ] [footnote : on january , , a convention of more than one hundred gentlemen from ten different states assembled in boston and organized the "american union for the relief and improvement of the colored race." among these workers were william reed, daniel noyes, j.w. chickering, j.w. putnam, baron stow, b.b. edwards, e.a. andrews, charles scudder, joseph tracy, samuel worcester, and charles tappan. the gentlemen were neither antagonistic to the antislavery nor to the colonization societies. they aimed to do that which had been neglected in giving the negroes proper preparation for freedom. knowing that the actual emancipation of an oppressed race cannot be effected by legislation, they hoped to provide religious and literary instruction for all colored children that they might "ameliorate their economic condition" and prepare themselves for higher usefulness. see the _exposition of the object and plans of the american union_, pp. - .] [footnote : andrews, _slavery and the domestic slave trade_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] [footnote : andrews, _slavery_, etc., p. .] the instruction of ambitious blacks in this city was not confined to mere rudimentary training. the opportunity for advanced study was offered colored girls in the convent of the oblate sisters of providence. these negroes, however, early learned to help themselves. in considerable assistance came from nelson wells, one of their own color. he left to properly appointed trustees the sum of $ , , the income of which was to be appropriated to the education of free colored children.[ ] with this benefaction the trustees concerned established in what they called the wells school. it offered negroes free instruction long after the civil war. [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed_., , p. .] in seeking to show how these good results were obtained by the negroes' coöperative power and ability to supply their own needs, we are not unmindful of the assistance which they received. to say that the colored people of baltimore, themselves, provided all these facilities of education would do injustice to the benevolent element of that city. among its white people were found so much toleration of opinion on slavery and so much sympathy with the efforts for its removal, that they not only permitted the establishment of negro churches, but opened successful colored schools in which white men and women assisted personally in teaching. great praise is due philanthropists of the type of john breckenridge and daniel raymond, who contributed their time and means to the cause and enlisted the efforts of others. still greater credit should be given to william crane, who for forty years was known as an "ardent, liberal, and wise friend of the black man." at the cost of $ , he erected in the central part of the city an edifice exclusively for the benefit of the colored people. in this building was an auditorium, several large schoolrooms, and a hall for entertainments and lectures. the institution employed a pastor and two teachers[ ] and it was often mentioned as a high school. [footnote : a contributor to the _christian chronicle_ found in this institution a pastor, a principal of the school, and an assistant, all of superior qualifications. the classes which this reporter heard recite grammar and geography convinced him of the thoroughness of the work and the unusual readiness of the colored people to learn. see _the african repository_, vol. xxxii., p. .] in northern cities like philadelphia and new york, where benevolent organizations provided an adequate number of colored schools, the free blacks did not develop so much of the power to educate themselves. the negroes of these cities, however, cannot be considered exceptions to the rule. many of those of philadelphia were of the most ambitious kind, men who had purchased their freedom or had developed sufficient intelligence to delude their would-be captors and conquer the institution of slavery. settled in this community, the thrifty class accumulated wealth which they often used, not only to defray the expenses of educating their own children, but to provide educational facilities for the poor children of color. gradually developing the power to help themselves, the free people of color organized a society which in opened a school with john trumbull as teacher.[ ] about the same time the african episcopalians founded a colored school at their church.[ ] a colored man gave three hundred pounds of the required funds to build the first colored schoolhouse in philadelphia.[ ] in one fourth of the twelve hundred colored children in the schools of that city paid for their instruction, whereas only two hundred and fifty were attending the public schools in .[ ] the fact that some of the negroes were able and willing to share the responsibility of enlightening their people caused a larger number of philanthropists to come to the rescue of those who had to depend on charity. furthermore, of the many achievements claimed for the colored schools of philadelphia none were considered more significant than that they produced teachers qualified to carry on this work. eleven of the sixteen colored schools in philadelphia in were taught by teachers of african descent. in the system was practically in the hands of negroes.[ ] [footnote : turner, _the negro in pennsylvania_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] [footnote : _proceedings of the american convention_, etc., , p. .] [footnote : _proceedings of the am. convention_, etc., , p. ; and wickersham, _history of education in pennsylvania_, p. .] the statistics of later years show how successful these early efforts had been. by the colored schools of philadelphia had developed to the extent that they seemed like a system. according to the _statistical inquiry into the condition of colored people in and about philadelphia_, published that year, there were children of color attending well-regulated schools. the larger institutions were mainly supported by state and charitable organizations of which the society of friends and the pennsylvania abolition society were the most important. besides supporting these institutions, however, the intelligent colored men of philadelphia had maintained smaller schools and organized a system of lyceums and debating clubs, one of which had a library of volumes. moreover, there were then teaching in the colored families and industrial schools of philadelphia many men and women of both races.[ ] although these instructors restricted their work to the teaching of the rudiments of education, they did much to help the more advanced schools to enlighten the negroes who came to that city in large numbers when conditions became intolerable for the free people of color in the slave states. the statistics of the following decade show unusual progress. in the year there were in the colored public schools of philadelphia, pupils; in the charity schools, ; in the benevolent schools, ; in private schools, ; in all, , whereas in there were only .[ ] [footnote : about the middle of the nineteenth century colored schools of various kinds arose in philadelphia. with a view to giving negroes industrial training their friends opened "the school for the destitute" at the house of industry in . three years later sarah luciana was teaching a school of seventy youths at this house of industry, and the sheppard school, another industrial institution, was in operation in in a building bearing the same name. in arose the "corn street unclassified school" of forty-seven children in charge of sarah l. peltz. "the holmesburg unclassified school" was organized in . other institutions of various purposes were "the house of refuge," "the orphans' shelter," and "the home for colored children." see bacon, _statistics of the colored people of philadelphia_, . among those then teaching in private schools of philadelphia were solomon clarkson, robert george, john marshall, john ross, jonathan tudas, and david ware. ann bishop, virginia blake, amelia bogle, anne e. carey, sarah ann douglass, rebecca hailstock, emma hall, emmeline higgins, margaret johnson, martha richards, dinah smith, mary still, and one peterson were teaching in families. see _statistical inquiry_, etc., , p. ; and bacon, _statistics of the colored people of philadelphia_, .] [footnote : _statistical inquiry into the condition of the colored people of philadelphia_, in .] situated like those of philadelphia, the free blacks of new york city did not have to maintain their own schools. this was especially true after when the colored people had qualified themselves to take over the schools of the new york manumission society. they then got rid of all the white teachers, even andrews, the principal, who had for years directed this system. besides, the economic progress of certain negroes there made possible the employment of the increasing number of colored teachers, who had availed themselves of the opportunities afforded by the benevolent schools. the stigma then attached to one receiving seeming charity through free schools stimulated thrifty negroes to have their children instructed either in private institutions kept by friendly white teachers or by teachers of their own color.[ ] in a society of the free people of color was organized to raise a fund, the interest of which was to sustain a free school for orphan children.[ ] this society succeeded later in establishing and maintaining two schools. at this time there were in new york city three other colored schools, the teachers of which received their compensation from those who patronized them.[ ] [footnote : see the address of the american convention, .] [footnote : _proceedings of the am. convention_, etc., , p. . certain colored women were then organized to procure and make for destitute persons of color. see andrews, _history of the new york african free schools_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] whether from lack of interest in their welfare on the part of the public, or from the desire of the negroes to share their own burdens, the colored people of rhode island were endeavoring to provide for the education of their children during the first decades of the last century. _the newport mercury_ of march , , announced that the african benevolent society had opened there a school kept by newport gardner, who was to instruct all colored people "inclined to attend." the records of the place show that this school was in operation eight years later.[ ] [footnote : stockwell, _history of ed. in r.i._, p. .] in boston, where were found more negroes than in most new england communities, the colored people themselves maintained a separate school after the revolutionary era. in the towns of salem, nantucket, new bedford, and lowell the colored schools failed to make much progress after the first quarter of the nineteenth century on account of the more liberal construction of the laws which provided for democratic education. this the free blacks were forced to advocate for the reason that the seeming onerous task of supporting a dual system often caused the neglect, and sometimes the extinction of the separate schools. furthermore, either the negroes of some of these towns were too scarce or the movement to furnish them special facilities of education started too late to escape the attacks of the abolitionists. seeing their mistake of first establishing separate schools, they began to attack caste in public education. in the eastern cities where colored school systems thereafter continued, the work was not always successful. the influx of fugitives in the rough sometimes jeopardized their chances for education by menacing liberal communities with the trouble of caring for an undesirable class. the friends of the negroes, however, received more encouragement during the two decades immediately preceding the civil war. there was a change in the attitude of northern cities toward the uplift of the colored refugees. catholics, protestants, and abolitionists often united their means to make provision for the education of accessible negroes, although these friends of the oppressed could not always agree on other important schemes. even the colonizationists, the object of attack from the ardent antislavery element, considerably aided the cause. they educated for work in liberia a number of youths, who, given the opportunity to attend good schools, demonstrated the capacity of the colored people. more important factors than the colonizationists were the free people of color. brought into the rapidly growing urban communities, these negroes began to accumulate sufficient wealth to provide permanent schools of their own. many of these were later assimilated by the systems of northern cities when their separate schools were disestablished. chapter vii the reaction encouraging as had been the movement to enlighten the negroes, there had always been at work certain reactionary forces which impeded the intellectual progress of the colored people. the effort to enlighten them that they might be emancipated to enjoy the political rights given white men, failed to meet with success in those sections where slaves were found in large numbers. feeling that the body politic, as conceived by locke and montesquieu, did not include the slaves, many citizens opposed their education on the ground that their mental improvement was inconsistent with their position as persons held to service. for this reason there was never put forward any systematic effort to elevate the slaves. every master believed that he had a divine right to deal with the situation as he chose. moreover, even before the policy of mental and moral improvement of the slaves could be given a trial, some colonists, anticipating the "evils of the scheme," sought to obviate them by legislation. such we have observed was the case in virginia,[ ] south carolina,[ ] and georgia.[ ] to control the assemblies of slaves, north carolina,[ ] delaware,[ ] and maryland[ ] early passed strict regulations for their inspection. [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] [footnote : brevard, _digest of the public statute law of s.c._, vol. ii., p. .] [footnote : marbury and crawford, _digest of laws of the state of georgia_, p. .] [footnote : _laws of north carolina_, vol. i., pp. , , and .] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] the actual opposition of the masters to the mental improvement of negroes, however, did not assume sufficiently large proportions to prevent the intellectual progress of that race, until two forces then at work had had time to become effective in arousing southern planters to the realization of what a danger enlightened colored men would be to the institution of slavery. these forces were the industrial revolution and the development of an insurrectionary spirit among slaves, accelerated by the rapid spreading of the abolition agitation. the industrial revolution was effected by the multiplication of mechanical appliances for spinning and weaving which so influenced the institution of slavery as seemingly to doom the negroes to heathenism. these inventions were the spinning jenny, the steam engine, the power loom, the wool-combing machine, and the cotton gin. they augmented the output of spinning mills, and in cheapening cloth, increased the demand by bringing it within the reach of the poor. the result was that a revolution was brought about not only in europe, but also in the united states to which the world looked for this larger supply of cotton fiber.[ ] this demand led to the extension of the plantation system on a larger scale. it was unfortunate, however, that many of the planters thus enriched, believed that the slightest amount of education, merely teaching slaves to read, impaired their value because it instantly destroyed their contentedness. since they did not contemplate changing their condition, it was surely doing them an ill service to destroy their acquiescence in it. this revolution then had brought it to pass that slaves who were, during the eighteenth century advertised as valuable on account of having been enlightened, were in the nineteenth century considered more dangerous than useful. [footnote : turner, _the rise of the new west_, pp. , , , , and ; and hammond, _cotton industry_, chaps. i. and ii.] with the rise of this system, and the attendant increased importation of slaves, came the end of the helpful contact of servants with their masters. slavery was thereby changed from a patriarchal to an economic institution. thereafter most owners of extensive estates abandoned the idea that the mental improvement of slaves made them better servants. doomed then to be half-fed, poorly clad, and driven to death in this cotton kingdom, what need had the slaves for education? some planters hit upon the seemingly more profitable scheme of working newly imported slaves to death during seven years and buying another supply rather than attempt to humanize them.[ ] deprived thus of helpful advice and instruction, the slaves became the object of pity not only to abolitionists of the north but also to some southerners. not a few of these reformers, therefore, favored the extermination of the institution. others advocated the expansion of slavery not to extend the influence of the south, but to disperse the slaves with a view to bringing about a closer contact between them and their masters.[ ] this policy was duly emphasized during the debate on the admission of the state of missouri. [footnote : rhodes, _history of the united states_, vol. i., p. ; kemble, journal, p. ; martineau, _society in america_, vol. i., p. ; weld, _slavery_, etc., p. .] [footnote : annals of congress, first session, vol. i., pp. _et seq._ and _et seq._] seeking to direct the attention of the world to the slavery of men's bodies and minds the abolitionists spread broadcast through the south newspapers, tracts, and pamphlets which, whether or not they had much effect in inducing masters to improve the condition of their slaves, certainly moved negroes themselves. it hardly required enlightenment to convince slaves that they would be better off as freemen than as dependents whose very wills were subject to those of their masters. accordingly even in the seventeenth century there developed in the minds of bondmen the spirit of resistance. the white settlers of the colonies held out successfully in putting down the early riots of negroes. when the increasing intelligent negroes of the south, however, observed in the abolition literature how the condition of the american slaves differed from that of the ancient servants and even from what it once had been in the united states; when they fully realized their intolerable condition compared with that of white men, who were clamoring for liberty and equality, there rankled in the bosom of slaves that insurrectionary passion productive of the daring uprisings which made the chances for the enlightenment of colored people poorer than they had ever been in the history of this country. the more alarming insurrections of the first quarter of the nineteenth century were the immediate cause of the most reactionary measures. it was easily observed that these movements were due to the mental improvement of the colored people during the struggle for the rights of man. not only had negroes heard from the lips of their masters warm words of praise for the leaders of the french revolution but had developed sufficient intelligence themselves to read the story of the heroes of the world, who were then emboldened to refresh the tree of liberty "with the blood of patriots and tyrants."[ ] the insurrectionary passion among the colored people was kindled, too, around baltimore, norfolk, charleston, and new orleans by certain negroes who to escape the horrors of the political upheaval in santo domingo,[ ] immigrated into this country in . the education of the colored race had paved the way for the dissemination of their ideas of liberty and equality. enlightened bondmen persistently made trouble for the white people in these vicinities. negroes who could not read, learned from others the story of toussaint l'ouverture, whose example colored men were then ambitious to emulate. [footnote : washington, _works of jefferson_, vol. iv., p. .] [footnote : drewery, _insurrections in virginia_, p. .] the insurrection of gabriel in virginia and that of south carolina in the year are cases in evidence. unwilling to concede that slaves could have so well planned such a daring attack, the press of the time insisted that two frenchmen were the promoters of the affair in virginia.[ ] james monroe said there was no evidence that any white man was connected with it.[ ] it was believed that the general tendency of the negroes toward an uprising had resulted from french ideas which had come to the slaves through intelligent colored men.[ ] observing that many negroes were sufficiently enlightened to see things as other men, the editor of the _aurora_ asserted that in negotiating with the "black republic" the united states and great britain had set the seal of approval upon servile insurrection.[ ] others referred to inflammatory handbills which negroes extensively read.[ ] discussing the gabriel plot in , judge st. george tucker said: "our sole security then consists in their ignorance of this power (doing us mischief) and their means of using it--a security which we have lately found is not to be relied on, and which, small as it is, every day diminishes. every year adds to the number of those who can read and write; and the increase in knowledge is the principal agent in evolving the spirit we have to fear."[ ] [footnote : _the new york daily advertiser_, sept. , ; and _the richmond enquirer_, oct. , .] [footnote : _writings of james monroe_, vol. iii., p. .] [footnote : educated negroes then constituted an alarming element in massachusetts, virginia, and south carolina. see _the new york daily advertiser_, sept. , .] [footnote : see _the new york daily advertiser_, sept. , .] [footnote : _ibid._, oct. , .] [footnote : letter of st. george tucker in joshua coffin's _slave insurrections._] camden was disturbed by an insurrection in and charleston in by a formidable plot which the officials believed was due to the "sinister" influences of enlightened negroes.[ ] the moving spirit of this organization was denmark vesey. he had learned to read and write, had accumulated an estate worth $ , and had purchased his freedom in [ ] jack purcell, an accomplice of vesey, weakened in the crisis and confessed. he said that vesey was in the habit of reading to him all the passages in the newspapers, that related to santo domingo and apparently every accessible pamphlet that had any connection with slavery.[ ] one day he read to purcell the speeches of mr. king on the subject of slavery and told purcell how this friend of the negro race declared he would continue to speak, write, and publish pamphlets against slavery "the longest day he lived," until the southern states consented to emancipate their slaves.[ ] [footnote : _the city gazette and commercial daily advertiser_ (charleston, south carolina), august , .] [footnote : _ibid._, august , .] [footnote : _the city gazette and commercial daily advertiser_, august , .] [footnote : _ibid_., august , .] the statement of the governor of south carolina also shows the influence of the educated negro. this official felt that monday, the slave of mr. gill, was the most daring conspirator. being able to read and write he "attained an extraordinary and dangerous influence over his fellows." "permitted by his owner to occupy a house in the central part of this city, he was afforded hourly opportunities for the exercise of his skill on those who were attracted to his shop by business or favor." "materials were abundantly furnished in the seditious pamphlets brought into the state by equally culpable incendiaries, while the speeches of the oppositionists in congress to the admission of missouri gave a serious and imposing effect to his machinations."[ ] it was thus brought home to the south that the enlightened negro was having his heart fired with the spirit of liberty by his perusal of the accounts of servile insurrections and the congressional debate on slavery. [footnote : _the norfolk and portsmouth herald_, aug. , .] southerners of all types thereafter attacked the policy of educating negroes.[ ] men who had expressed themselves neither one way nor the other changed their attitude when it became evident that abolition literature in the hands of slaves would not only make them dissatisfied, but cause them to take drastic measures to secure liberty. those who had emphasized the education of the negroes to increase their economic efficiency were largely converted. the clergy who had insisted that the bondmen were entitled to, at least, sufficient training to enable them to understand the principles of the christian religion, were thereafter willing to forego the benefits of their salvation rather than see them destroy the institution of slavery. [footnote : hodgson, _whitney's remarks during a journey through north america_, p. .] in consequence of this tendency, state after state enacted more stringent laws to control the situation. missouri passed in an act so to regulate the traveling and assembly of slaves as to make them ineffective in making headway against the white people by insurrection. of course, in so doing the reactionaries deprived them of the opportunities of helpful associations and of attending schools.[ ] by much dissatisfaction had arisen from the seeming danger of the various colored schools in virginia. the general assembly, therefore, passed a law providing that there should be no more assemblages of slaves, or free negroes, or mulattoes, mixing or associating with such slaves for teaching them reading and writing.[ ] the opposition here seemed to be for the reasons that negroes were being generally enlightened in the towns of the state and that white persons as teachers in these institutions were largely instrumental in accomplishing this result. mississippi even as a territory had tried to meet the problem of unlawful assemblies. in the year it was declared unlawful for negroes above the number of five to meet for educational purposes.[ ] only with the permission of their masters could slaves attend religious worship conducted by a recognized white minister or attended by "two discreet and reputable persons."[ ] [footnote : _laws of missouri territory_, etc., p. .] [footnote : tate, _digest of the laws of virginia_, pp. - .] [footnote : poindexter, _revised code of the laws of mississippi_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] the problem in louisiana was first to keep out intelligent persons who might so inform the slaves as to cause them to rise. accordingly in [ ] the state passed a law prohibiting the immigration of free persons of color into that commonwealth. this precaution, however, was not deemed sufficient after the insurrectionary negroes of new berne, tarborough, and hillsborough, north carolina,[ ] had risen, and david walker of massachusetts had published to the slaves his fiery appeal to arms.[ ] in , therefore, louisiana enacted another measure, providing that whoever should write, print, publish, or distribute anything having the tendency to produce discontent among the slaves, should on conviction thereof be imprisoned at hard labor for life or suffer death at the discretion of the court. it was provided, too, that whoever used any language or became instrumental in bringing into the state any paper, book, or pamphlet inducing this discontent should suffer practically the same penalty. all persons who should teach, or permit or cause to be taught, any slave to read or write, should be imprisoned not less than one month nor more than twelve.[ ] [footnote : bullard and curry, _a new digest of the statute laws of the state of louisiana_, p. .] [footnote : coffin, _slave insurrections_, p. .] [footnote : walker mentioned "our wretchedness in consequence of slavery, our wretchedness in consequence of ignorance, our wretchedness in consequence of the preachers of the religion of jesus christ, and our wretchedness in consequence of the colonization plan." see _walker's appeal_.] [footnote : acts passed at the ninth session of the legislature of louisiana, p. .] yielding to the demand of slaveholders, georgia passed a year later a law providing that any negro who should teach another to read or write should be punished by fine and whipping. if a white person should so offend, he should be punished with a fine not exceeding $ and with imprisonment in the common jail at the discretion of the committing magistrate.[ ] [footnote ] dawson, _a compilation of the laws of the state of georgia_, etc., p. . in virginia where the prohibition did not then extend to freedmen, there was enacted in a law providing that any meeting of free negroes or mulattoes for teaching them reading or writing should be considered an unlawful assembly. to break up assemblies for this purpose any judge or justice of the peace could issue a warrant to apprehend such persons and inflict corporal punishment not exceeding twenty lashes. white persons convicted of teaching negroes to read or write were to be fined fifty dollars and might be imprisoned two months. for imparting such information to a slave the offender was subject to a fine of not less than ten nor more than one hundred dollars.[ ] [footnote ]_laws of virginia_, - , p. , sections and . the whole country was again disturbed by the insurrection in southampton county, virginia, in . the slave states then had a striking example of what the intelligent negroes of the south might eventually do. the leader of this uprising was nat turner. precocious as a youth he had learned to read so easily that he did not remember when he first had that attainment.[ ] given unusual social and intellectual advantages, he developed into a man of considerable "mental ability and wide information." his education was chiefly acquired in the sunday-schools in which "the text-books for the small children were the ordinary speller and reader, and that for the older negroes the bible."[ ] he had received instruction also from his parents and his indulgent young master, j.c. turner. [footnote ] drewery, _insurrections in virginia_, p. . [footnote : drewery, _insurrections in virginia_, p. .] when nat turner appeared, the education of the negro had made the way somewhat easier for him than it was for his predecessors. negroes who could read and write had before them the revolutionary ideas of the french, the daring deeds of toussaint l'ouverture, the bold attempt of general gabriel, and the far-reaching plans of denmark vesey. these were sometimes written up in the abolition literature, the circulation of which was so extensive among the slaves that it became a national question.[ ] [footnote : these organs were _the albany evening journal, the new york free press, the genius of universal emancipation_, and _the boston liberator_. see _the richmond enquirer_, oct. , .] trying to account for this insurrection the governor of the state lays it to the charge of the negro preachers who were in position to foment much disorder on account of having acquired "great ascendancy over the minds" of discontented slaves. he believed that these ministers were in direct contact with the agents of abolition, who were using colored leaders as a means to destroy the institutions of the south. the governor was cognizant of the fact that not only was the sentiment of the incendiary pamphlets read but often the words.[ ] to prevent the "enemies" in other states from communicating with the slaves of that section he requested that the laws regulating the assembly of negroes be more rigidly enforced and that colored preachers be silenced. the general assembly complied with this request.[ ] [footnote : _the richmond enquirer_, oct. , .] [footnote : _the laws of virginia_, - , p. .] the aim of the subsequent reactionary legislation of the south was to complete the work of preventing the dissemination of information among negroes and their reading of abolition literature. this they endeavored to do by prohibiting the communication of the slaves with one another, with the better informed free persons of color, and with the liberal white people; and by closing all the schools theretofore opened to negroes. the states passed laws providing for a more stringent regulation of passes, defining unlawful assemblies, and fixing penalties for the same. other statutes prohibited religious worship, or brought it under direct supervision of the owners of the slaves concerned, and proscribed the private teaching of slaves in any manner whatever. mississippi, which already had a law to prevent the mental improvement of the slaves, enacted in another measure to remove from them the more enlightened members of their race. all free colored persons were to leave the state in ninety days. the same law provided, too, that no negro should preach in that state unless to the slaves of his plantation and with the permission of the owner.[ ] delaware saw fit to take a bold step in this direction. the act of provided that no congregation or meeting of free negroes or mulattoes of more than twelve persons should be held later than twelve o'clock at night, except under the direction of three respectable white persons who were to attend the meeting. it further provided that no free negro should attempt to call a meeting for religious worship, to exhort or preach, unless he was authorized to do so by a judge or justice of the peace, upon the recommendation of five "respectable and judicious citizens." [ ] this measure tended only to prevent the dissemination of information among negroes by making it impossible for them to assemble. it was not until that the state of delaware finally passed a positive measure to prevent the assemblages of colored persons for instruction and all other meetings except for religious worship and the burial of the dead.[ ] following the example of delaware in , florida passed a law prohibiting all meetings of negroes except those for divine worship at a church or place attended by white persons.[ ] florida made the same regulations more stringent in when she enjoyed the freedom of a state.[ ] [footnote ] hutchinson, _code of mississippi_, p. . [footnote ] _laws of delaware_, , pp. - . [footnote ] _ibid._, , p. _et seq._ [footnote : _acts of the legislative council of the territory of florida, _, p. .] [footnote : _acts of florida, _, ch. , sec. .] alabama had some difficulty in getting a satisfactory law. in this commonwealth enacted a law imposing a fine of from $ to $ on persons who should attempt to educate any negro whatsoever. the act also prohibited the usual unlawful assemblies and the preaching or exhorting of negroes except in the presence of five "respectable slaveholders" or unless the officiating minister was licensed by some regular church of which the persons thus exhorted were members.[ ] it soon developed that the state had gone too far. it had infringed upon the rights and privileges of certain creoles, who, being residents of the louisiana territory when it was purchased in , had been guaranteed the rights of citizens of the united states. accordingly in the mayor and the aldermen of mobile were authorized by law to grant licenses to such persons as they might deem suitable to instruct for limited periods, in that city and the counties of mobile and baldwin, the free colored children, who were descendants of colored creoles residing in the district in .[ ] [footnote : clay, _digest of the laws of the state of alabama_, p. .] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed_., , p. .] another difficulty of certain commonwealths had to be overcome. apparently georgia had already incorporated into its laws provisions adequate to the prevention of the mental improvement of negroes. but it was discovered that employed as they had been in various positions either requiring knowledge, or affording its acquirement, negroes would pick up the rudiments of education, despite the fact that they had no access to schools. the state then passed a law imposing a penalty not exceeding one hundred dollars for the employment of any slave or free person of color "in setting up type or other labor about a printing office requiring a knowledge of reading and writing."[ ] in south carolina saw the same danger. in addition to enacting a more stringent law for the prevention of the teaching of negroes by white or colored friends, and for the destruction of their schools, it provided that persons of african blood should not be employed as clerks or salesmen in or about any shop or store or house used for trading.[ ] [footnote : cobb, _digest of the laws of georgia_, p. ; and prince, _digest of the laws of georgia_, p. .] [footnote : laws of south carolina, .] north carolina was among the last states to take such drastic measures for the protection of the white race. in this commonwealth the whites and blacks had lived on liberal terms. negroes had up to this time enjoyed the right of suffrage there. some attended schools open to both races. a few even taught white children.[ ] [footnote : bassett, _slavery in north carolina_, p. ; and testimonies of various ex-slaves.] the intense feeling against negroes engendered by the frequency of insurrections, however, sufficed to swing the state into the reactionary column by . an act passed by the legislature that year prohibited the public instruction of negroes, making it impossible for youth of african descent to get any more education than what they could in their own family circle.[ ] the public school system established thereafter specifically provided that its benefits should not extend to any descendant from negro ancestors to the fourth generation inclusive.[ ] bearing so grievously this loss of their social status after they had toiled up from poverty, many ambitious free persons of color, left the state for more congenial communities. [footnote : _revised statutes of north carolina_, .] [footnote : _laws of north carolina, _, c. , s. .] the states of the west did not have to deal so severely with their slaves as was deemed necessary in southern states. missouri found it advisable in to amend the law of [ ] so as to regulate more rigorously the traveling and the assembling of slaves. it was not until , however, that this commonwealth specifically provided that no one should keep or teach any school for the education of negroes.[ ] tennessee had as early as a law governing the movement of slaves but exhibited a little more reactionary spirit in in providing that there should be no circulation of seditious books or pamphlets which might lead to insurrection or rebellion among negroes.[ ] tennessee, however, did not positively forbid the education of colored people. kentucky had a system of regulating the egress and regress of slaves but never passed any law prohibiting their instruction. yet statistics show that although the education of negroes was not penalized, it was in many places made impossible by public sentiment. so was it in the state of maryland, which did not expressly forbid the instruction of anyone. [footnote : _laws of the territory of missouri_, p. .] [footnote : _laws of the state of missouri_, , pp. and .] [footnote : _public acts passed at the first session of the general assembly of the state of tennessee_, p. , chap. .] these reactionary results were not obtained without some opposition. the governing element of some states divided on the question. the opinions of this class were well expressed in the discussion between chancellor harper and j.b. o'neal of the south carolina bar. the former said that of the many negroes whom he had known to be capable of reading, he had never seen one read anything but the bible. he thought that they imposed this task upon themselves as a matter of duty. because of the negroes' "defective comprehension and the laborious nature of this employment to them"[ ] he considered such reading an inefficient method of religious instruction. he, therefore, supported the oppressive measures of the south. the other member of the bar maintained that men could not reflect as christians and justify the position that slaves should not be permitted to read the bible. "it is in vain," added he, "to say there is danger in it. the best slaves of the state are those who can and do read the scriptures. again, who is it that teaches your slaves to read? it is generally done by the children of the owners. who would tolerate an indictment against his son or daughter for teaching a slave to read? such laws look to me as rather cowardly."[ ] this attorney was almost of the opinion of many others who believed that the argument that to christianize and educate the colored people of a slave commonwealth had a tendency to elevate them above their masters and to destroy the "legitimate distinctions" of the community, could be admitted only where the people themselves were degraded. [footnote : debow, _the industrial resources of the southern and western states_, vol. ii., p. .] [footnote : debow, _the industrial resources of the southern and western states_, vol. ii., p. .] after these laws had been passed, american slavery extended not as that of the ancients, only to the body, but also to the mind. education was thereafter regarded as positively inconsistent with the institution. the precaution taken to prevent the dissemination of information was declared indispensable to the system. the situation in many parts of the south was just as berry portrayed it in the virginia house of delegates in . he said: "we have as far as possible closed every avenue by which light may enter their [the slaves'] minds. if we could extinguish the capacity to see the light, our work would be completed; they would then be on a level with the beasts of the field and we should be safe! i am not certain that we would not do it, if we could find out the process, and that on the plea of necessity."[ ] [footnote : coffin, _slave insurrections_, p. ; and goodell, _slave code_, p. .] it had then come to pass that in the south, where once were found a considerable number of intelligent negroes, they had become exceedingly scarce or disappeared from certain sections altogether. on plantations of hundreds of slaves it was common to discover that not one of them had the mere rudiments of education. in some large districts it was considered almost a phenomenon to find a negro who could read the bible or sign his name.[ ] [footnote :_ibid._, pp. - .] the reactionary tendency was in no sense confined to the southern states. laws were passed in the north to prevent the migration of negroes to that section. their education at certain places was discouraged. in fact, in the proportion that the conditions in the south made it necessary for free blacks to flee from oppression, the people of the north grew less tolerant on account of the large number of those who crowded the towns and cities of the free states near the border. the antislavery societies at one time found it necessary to devote their time to the amelioration of the economic condition of the refugees to make them acceptable to the white people rather than to direct their attention to mere education.[ ] not a few northerners, dreading an influx of free negroes, drove them even from communities to which they had learned to, repair for education. [footnote : _proceedings of the american convention_.] the best example of this intolerance was the opposition encountered by prudence crandall, a well-educated young quaker lady, who had established a boarding-school at canterbury, connecticut. trouble arose when sarah harris, a colored girl, asked admission to this institution.[ ] for many reasons miss crandall hesitated to admit her but finally yielded. only a few days thereafter the parents of the white girls called on miss crandall to offer their objections to sending their children to school with a "nigger."[ ] miss crandall stood firm, the white girls withdrew, and the teacher advertised for young women of color. the determination to continue the school on this basis incited the townsmen to hold an indignation meeting. they passed resolutions to protest through a committee of local officials against the establishment of a school of this kind in that community. at this meeting andrew t. judson denounced the policy of miss crandall, while the rev. samuel j. may ably defended it. judson was not only opposed to the establishment of such a school in canterbury but in any part of the state. he believed that colored people, who could never rise from their menial condition in the united states, should not to be encouraged to expect to elevate themselves in connecticut. he considered them inferior servants who should not be treated as equals of the caucasians, but should be sent back to africa to improve themselves and christianize the natives.[ ] on the contrary, mr. may thought that there would never be fewer colored people in this country than were found here then and that it would be unjust to exile them. he asserted that white people should grant negroes their rights or lose their own and that since education is the primal, fundamental right of all men, connecticut was the last place where this should be denied.[ ] [footnote : jay, _an inquiry_, etc., p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., pp. _et seq_.] [footnote : jay, _an inquiry, etc._, p. ; and _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, pp. _et seq._] [footnote : jay, _an inquiry_, etc., p. .] miss crandall and her pupils were threatened with violence. accommodation at the local stores was denied her. the pupils were insulted. the house was besmeared and damaged. an effort was made to invoke the law by which the selectmen might warn any person not an inhabitant of the state to depart under penalty of paying $ . for every week he remained after receiving such notice.[ ] this failed, but judson and his followers were still determined that the "nigger school" should never be allowed in canterbury nor any town of the state. they appealed to the legislature. setting forth in its preamble that the evil to be obviated was the increase of the black population of the commonwealth, that body passed a law providing that no person should establish a school for the instruction of colored people who were not inhabitants of the state of connecticut, nor should any one harbor or board students brought to the state for this purpose without first obtaining, in writing, the consent of a majority of the civil authority and of the selectmen of the town.[ ] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed_., , p. ; and may, _letters to a.t. judson, esq., and others_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] the enactment of this law caused canterbury to go wild with joy. miss crandall was arrested on the th of june, and committed to await her trial at the next session of the supreme court. she and her friends refused to give bond that the officials might go the limit in imprisoning her. miss crandall was placed in a murderer's cell. mr. may, who had stood by her, said when he saw the door locked and the key taken out, "the deed is done, completely done. it cannot be recalled. it has passed into the history of our nation and age." miss crandall was tried the d of august, , at brooklyn, the county seat of the county of windham. the jury failed to agree upon a verdict, doubtless because joseph eaton, who presided, had given it as his opinion that the law was probably unconstitutional. at the second trial before judge dagget of the supreme court, who was an advocate of the law, miss crandall was convicted. her counsel, however, filed a bill of exceptions and took an appeal to the court of errors. the case came up on the d of july, . the nature of the law was ably discussed by w.w. ellsworth and calvin goddard, who maintained that it was unconstitutional, and by a.t. judson and c.f. cleveland, who undertook to prove its constitutionality. the court reserved its decision, which was never given. finding that there were defects in the information prepared by the attorney for the state, the indictment was quashed. because of subsequent attempts to destroy the building, mr. may and miss crandall decided to abandon the school.[ ] [footnote : jay, _an inquiry, etc._, p. .] it resulted then that even in those states to which free blacks had long looked for sympathy, the fear excited by fugitives from the more reactionary commonwealths had caused northerners so to yield to the prejudices of the south that they opposed insuperable obstacles to the education of negroes for service in the united states. the colored people, as we shall see elsewhere, were not allowed to locate their manual labor college at new haven[ ] and the principal of the noyes academy at canaan, new hampshire, saw his institution destroyed because he decided to admit colored students.[ ] these fastidious persons, however, raised no objection to the establishment of schools to prepare negroes to expatriate themselves under the direction of the american colonization society.[ ] [footnote : _proceedings of the third annual convention for the improvement of the free people of color_, p. .] [footnote : _fourth annual report of the american antislavery society_, p. .] [footnote : alexander, _a history of colonization on the western continent_, p. .] observing these conditions the friends of the colored people could not be silent. the abolitionists led by caruthers, may, and garrison hurled their weapons at the reactionaries, branding them as inconsistent schemers. after having advanced the argument of the mental inferiority of the colored race they had adopted the policy of educating negroes on the condition that they be removed from the country.[ ] considering education one of the rights of man, the abolitionists persistently rebuked the north and south for their inhuman policy. on every opportune occasion they appealed to the world in behalf of the oppressed race, which the hostile laws had removed from humanizing influences, reduced to the plane of beasts, and made to die in heathenism. [footnote : jay,_an inquiry_, etc., p. ; johns hopkins university studies, series xvi., p. ; and _proceedings of the new york state colonization society_, , p. .] in reply to the abolitionists the protagonists of the reactionaries said that but for the "intrusive and intriguing interference of pragmatical fanatics"[ ] such precautionary enactments would never have been necessary. there was some truth in this statement; for in certain districts these measures operated not to prevent the aristocratic people of the south from enlightening the negroes, but to keep away from them what they considered undesirable instructors. the southerners regarded the abolitionists as foes in the field, industriously scattering the seeds of insurrection which could then be prevented only by blocking every avenue through which they could operate upon the minds of the slaves. a writer of this period expressed it thus: "it became necessary to check or turn aside the stream which instead of flowing healthfully upon the negro is polluted and poisoned by the abolitionists and rendered the source of discontent and excitement."[ ] he believed that education thus perverted would become equally dangerous to the master and the slave, and that while fanaticism continued its war upon the south the measures of necessary precaution and defense had to be continued. he asserted, however, that education would not only unfit the negro for his station in life and prepare him for insurrection, but would prove wholly impracticable in the performance of the duties of a laborer.[ ] the south has not yet learned that an educated man is a better laborer than an ignorant one. [footnote : hodgkin, _an inquiry into the merits of the am. col. soc_., p. ; and _the south vindicated from the treason and fanaticism of the abolitionists_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] [footnote : _the south vindicated from the treason and fanaticism of the abolitionists_, p. .] chapter viii religion without letters stung by the effective charge of the abolitionists that the reactionary legislation of the south consigned the negroes to heathenism, slaveholders considering themselves christians, felt that some semblance of the religious instruction of these degraded people should be devised. it was difficult, however, to figure out exactly how the teaching of religion to slaves could be made successful and at the same time square with the prohibitory measures of the south. for this reason many masters made no effort to find a way out of the predicament. others with a higher sense of duty brought forward a scheme of oral instruction in christian truth or of religion without letters. the word instruction thereafter signified among the southerners a procedure quite different from what the term meant in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, when negroes were taught to read and write that they might learn the truth for themselves. being aristocratic in its bearing, the episcopal church in the south early receded from the position of cultivating the minds of the colored people. as the richest slaveholders were episcopalians, the clergy of that denomination could hardly carry out a policy which might prove prejudicial to the interests of their parishioners. moreover, in their propaganda there was then nothing which required the training of negroes to instruct themselves. as the qualifications of episcopal ministers were rather high even for the education of the whites of that time, the blacks could not hope to be active churchmen. this church, therefore, soon limited its work among the negroes of the south to the mere verbal instruction of those who belonged to the local parishes. furthermore, because this church was not exceedingly militant, and certainly not missionary, it failed to grow rapidly. in most parts it suffered from the rise of the more popular methodists and baptists into the folds of which slaves followed their masters during the eighteenth century. the adjustment of the methodist and baptist churches in the south to the new work among the darker people, however, was after the first quarter of the nineteenth century practically easy. each of these denominations had once strenuously opposed slavery, the methodists holding out longer than the baptists. but the particularizing force of the institution soon became such that southern churches of these connections withdrew most of their objections to the system and, of course, did not find it difficult to abandon the idea of teaching negroes to read.[ ] moreover, only so far as it was necessary to prepare men to preach and exhort was there an urgent need for literary education among these plain and unassuming missionaries. they came, not emphasizing the observance of forms which required so much development of the intellect, but laying stress upon the quickening of man's conscience and the regeneration of his soul. in the states, however, where the prohibitory laws were not so rigidly enforced, the instruction received in various ways from workers of these denominations often turned out to be more than religion without letters.[ ] [footnote : matlack, _history of methodism_, etc., p. ; benedict, _history of the baptists_, p. .] [footnote : adams, _south-side view_, p. .] the presbyterians found it more difficult to yield on this point. for decades they had been interested in the negro race and had in reached the acme of antislavery sentiment.[ ] synod after synod denounced the attitude of cruel masters toward their slaves and took steps to do legally all they could to provide religious instruction for the colored people.[ ] when public sentiment and reactionary legislation made the instruction of the negroes of the south impracticable the presbyterians of new york and new jersey were active in devising schemes for the education of the colored people at points in the north.[ ] then came the crisis of the prolonged abolition agitation which kept the presbyterian church in an excited state from to and resulted in the recession of that denomination from the position it had formerly taken against slavery.[ ] yielding to the reactionaries in , this noble sect which had established schools for negroes, trained ambitious colored men for usefulness, and endeavored to fit them for the best civil and religious emoluments, thereafter became divided. the southern connection lost much of its interest in the dark race, and fell back on the policy of the verbal instruction and memory training of the blacks that they might never become thoroughly enlightened as to their condition. [footnote : baird, _collections_, etc., pp. - .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : _enormity of the slave trade_, etc. p. .] [footnote : baird, _collections_, etc., pp. , .] despite the fact that southern methodists and presbyterians generally ceased to have much anti-slavery ardor, there continued still in the western slave states and in the mountains of virginia and north carolina, a goodly number of these churchmen, who suffered no diminution of interest in the enlightenment of negroes. in the states of kentucky and tennessee friends of the race were often left free to instruct them as they wished. many of the people who settled those states came from the scotch-irish stock of the appalachian mountains, where early in the nineteenth century the blacks were in some cases treated as equals of the whites.[ ] [footnote : _fourth annual report of the american antislavery society_, new york, , p. ; _the new england antislavery almanac_, , p. ; and _the african repository_, vol. xxxii., p. .] the quakers, and many catholics, however, were as effective as the mountaineers in elevating negroes. they had for centuries labored to promote religion and education among their colored brethren. so earnest were these sects in working for the uplift of the negro race that the reactionary movement failed to swerve them from their course. when the other churches adopted the policy of mere verbal training, the quakers and catholics adhered to their idea that the negroes should be educated to grasp the meaning of the christian religion just as they had been during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.[ ] this favorable situation did not mean so much, however, since with the exception of the catholics in maryland and louisiana and the quakers in pennsylvania, not many members of these sects lived in communities of a large colored population. furthermore, they were denied access to the negroes in most southern communities, even when they volunteered to work as missionaries among the colored people.[ ] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed_., , pp. - .] [footnote : in several southern states special laws were enacted to prevent the influx of such christian workers.] how difficult it was for these churchmen to carry out their policy of religion without letters may be best observed by viewing the conditions then obtaining. in most southern states in which negro preachers could not be deterred from their mission by public sentiment, they were prohibited by law from exhorting their fellows. the ground for such action was usually said to be incompetency and liability to abuse their office and influence to the injury of the laws and peace of the country. the elimination of the christian teachers of the negro race, and the prevention of the immigration of workers from the northern states rendered the blacks helpless and dependent upon a few benevolent white ministers of the slave communities. during this period of unusual proselyting among the whites, these preachers could not minister to the needs of their own race.[ ] besides, even when there was found a white clergyman who was willing to labor among these lowly people, he often knew little about the inner workings of their minds, and failing to enlighten their understanding, left them the victims of sinful habits, incident to the institution of slavery. [footnote : jones, _religious instruction_, p. .] to a civilized man the result was alarming. the church as an institution had ceased to be the means by which the negroes of the south could be enlightened. the sabbath-schools in which so many colored people there had learned to read and write had by restricted their work to oral instruction.[ ] in places where the blacks once had the privilege of getting an elementary education, only an inconceivable fraction of them could rise above illiteracy. most of these were freedmen found in towns and cities. with the exception of a few slaves who were allowed the benefits of religious instruction, these despised beings were generally neglected and left to die like heathen. in there were in the south only fifteen colored sabbath-schools, with an attendance of about . [footnote : goodell, _slave code_, p. .] there had never been any regular daily instruction in christian truths, but after this period only a few masters allowed field hands to attend family prayers. some sections went beyond this point, prohibiting by public sentiment any and all kinds of religious instruction.[ ] in south carolina a formal remonstrance signed by over planters and citizens was presented to a methodist preacher chosen by a conference of that state as a "cautious and discreet person"[ ] especially qualified to preach to slaves, and pledged to confine himself to verbal instruction. in falmouth, virginia, several white ladies began to meet on sunday afternoons to teach negro children the principles of the christian religion. they were unable to continue their work a month before the local officials stopped them, although these women openly avowed that they did not intend to teach reading and writing.[ ] thus the development of the religious education of the negroes in certain parts of the south had been from literary instruction as a means of imparting christian truth to the policy of oral indoctrination, and from this purely memory teaching to no education at all. [footnote : the cause of this drastic policy was not so much race hatred as the fear that any kind of instruction might cause the negroes to assert themselves.] [footnote : olmsted, _back country_, pp. , .] [footnote : conway, _testimonies concerning slavery_, p. .] thereafter the chief privilege allowed the slaves was to congregate for evening prayers conducted by themselves under the surveillance of a number of "discreet persons." the leader chosen to conduct the services, would in some cases read a passage from the scriptures and "line a hymn," which the slaves took up in their turn and sang in a tune of their own suitable to the meter. in case they had present no one who could read, or the law forbade such an exercise, some exhorter among the slaves would be given an opportunity to address the people, basing his remarks as far as his intelligence allowed him on some memorized portion of the bible. the rest of the evening would be devoted to individual prayers and the singing of favorite hymns, developed largely from the experience of slaves, who while bearing their burdens in the heat of the day had learned to sing away their troubles. for this untenable position the slave states were so severely criticized by southern and northern friends of the colored people that the ministers of that section had to construct a more progressive policy. yet whatever might be the arguments of the critics of the south to prove that the enlightenment of negroes was not a danger, it was clear after the southampton insurrection in that two factors in negro education would for some time continue generally eliminated. these were reading matter and colored preachers. prominent among the southerners who endeavored to readjust their policy of enlightening the black population, were bishop william meade,[ ] bishop william capers,[ ] and rev. c.c. jones.[ ] bishop meade was a native of virginia, long noted for its large element of benevolent slaveholders who never lost interest in their negroes. he was fortunate in finishing his education at princeton, so productive then of leaders who fought the institution of slavery.[ ] immediately after his ordination in the protestant episcopal church, bishop meade assumed the role of a reformer. he took up the cause of the colored people, devoting no little of his time to them when he was in alexandria and frederick in and .[ ] he began by preaching to the negroes on fifteen plantations, meeting them twice a day, and in one year reported the baptism of forty-eight colored children.[ ] early a champion of the colonization of the negroes, he was sent on a successful mission to georgia in to secure the release of certain recaptured africans who were about to be sold. going and returning from the south he was active in establishing auxiliaries of the american colonization society. he helped to extend its sphere also into the middle states and new-england.[ ] [footnote : goodloe, _southern platform_, pp. - .] [footnote : wightman, _life of bishop william capers_, p. .] [footnote : jones, _religious instruction_, introductory chapter.] [footnote : goodloe, _southern platform_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] [footnote : _niles register_, vol. xvi., pp. - .] bishop meade was a representative of certain of his fellow-churchmen who were passing through the transitory stage from the position of advocating the thorough education of negroes to that of recommending mere verbal instruction. agreeing at first with rev. thomas bacon, bishop meade favored the literary training of negroes, and advocated the extermination of slavery.[ ] later in life he failed to urge his followers to emancipate their slaves, and did not entreat his congregation to teach them to read. he was then committed to the policy of only lessening their burden as much as possible without doing anything to destroy the institution. thereafter he advocated the education and emancipation of the slaves only in connection with the scheme of colonization, to which he looked for a solution of these problems.[ ] [footnote : meade,_sermons of rev. thos. bacon_, p. ; and goodell, _the southern platform_, pp. , .] [footnote :_ibid_., p. .] wishing to give his views on the religious instruction of negroes, the bishop found in rev. thomas bacon's sermons that "every argument which was likely to convince and persuade was so forcibly exerted, and that every objection that could possibly be made, so fully answered, and in fine everything that ought to be said so well said, and the same things so happily confirmed ..." that it was deemed "best to refer the reader for the true nature and object of the book to the book itself."[ ] bishop meade had uppermost in his mind bacon's logical arraignment of those who neglected to teach their negroes the christian religion. looking beyond the narrow circle of his own sect, the bishop invited the attention of all denominations to this subject in which they were "equally concerned." he especially besought "the ministers of the gospel to take it into serious consideration as a matter for which they also will have to give an account. did not christ," said he, "die for these poor creatures as well as for any other, and is it not given in charge of the minister to gather his sheep into the fold?"[ ] [footnote : meade, _sermons of rev. thos. bacon_, pp. , , , , , , , and .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] another worker in this field was bishop william capers of the methodist episcopal church of south carolina. a southerner to the manner born, he did not share the zeal of the antislavery men who would educate negroes as a preparation for manumission.[ ] regarding the subject of abolition as one belonging to the state and entirely inappropriate to the church, he denounced the principles of the religious abolitionists as originating in false philosophy. capers endeavored to prove that the relation of slave and master is authorized by the holy scriptures. he was of the opinion, however, that certain abuses which might ensue, were immoralities to be prevented or punished by all proper means, both by the church discipline and the civil law.[ ] believing that the neglect of the spiritual needs of the slaves was a reflection on the slaveholders, he set out early in the thirties to stir up south carolina to the duty of removing this stigma. [footnote : wightman, _life of william capers_, p. .] [footnote : wightman, _life of william capers_, p. .] his plan of enlightening the blacks did not include literary instruction. his aim was to adapt the teaching of christian truth to the condition of persons having a "humble intellect and a limited range of knowledge by means of constant and patient reiteration."[ ] the old negroes were to look to preachers for the exposition of these principles while the children were to be turned over to catechists who would avail themselves of the opportunity of imparting these fundamentals to the young at the time their minds were in the plastic state. yet all instructors and preachers to negroes had to be careful to inculcate the performance of the duty of obedience to their masters as southerners found them stated in the holy scriptures. any one who would hesitate to teach these principles of southern religion should not be employed to instruct slaves. the bishop was certain that such a one could not then be found among the preachers of the methodist episcopal church of south carolina.[ ] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] bishop capers was the leading spirit in the movement instituted in that commonwealth about to establish missions to the slaves. so generally did he arouse the people to the performance of this duty that they not only allowed preachers access to their negroes but requested that missionaries be sent to their plantations. such petitions came from c.c. pinckney, charles boring, and lewis morris.[ ] two stations were established in and two additional ones in . thereafter the church founded one or two others every year until when there were seventeen missions conducted by twenty-five preachers. at the death of bishop capers in the methodists of south carolina had twenty-six such establishments, which employed thirty-two preachers, ministering to , communicants of color. the missionary revenue raised by the local conference had increased from $ to $ , a year.[ ] [footnote : wightman, _life of william capers_, p. .] [footnote ; _african repository_, vol. xxiv., p. .] the most striking example of this class of workers was the rev. c.c. jones, a minister of the presbyterian church. educated at princeton with men actually interested in the cause of the negroes, and located in georgia where he could study the situation as it was, jones became not a theorist but a worker. he did not share the discussion of the question as to how to get rid of slavery. accepting the institution as a fact, he endeavored to alleviate the sufferings of the unfortunates by the spiritual cultivation of their minds. he aimed, too, not to take into his scheme the solution of the whole problem but to appeal to a special class of slaves, those of the plantations who were left in the depths of ignorance as to the benefits of right living. in this respect he was like two of his contemporaries, rev. josiah law[ ] of georgia and bishop polk of louisiana.[ ] denouncing the policy of getting all one could out of the slaves and of giving back as little as possible, jones undertook to show how their spiritual improvement would exterminate their ignorance, vulgarity, idleness, improvidence, and irreligion; jones thought that if the circumstances of the negroes were changed, they would equal, if not excel, the rest of the human family "in majesty of intellect, elegance of manners, purity of morals, and ardor of piety."[ ] he feared that white men might cherish a contempt for negroes that would cause them to sink lower in the scale of intelligence, morality, and religion. emphasizing the fact that as one class of society rises so will the other, jones advocated the mingling of the classes together in churches, to create kindlier feelings among them, increase the tendency of the blacks to subordination, and promote in a higher degree their mental and religious improvement. he was sure that these benefits could never result from independent church organization.[ ] [footnote : rev. josiah law was almost as successful as jones in carrying the gospel to the neglected negroes. his life is a large chapter in the history of christianity among the slaves of that commonwealth. see wright, _negro education in georgia_, p. .] [footnote : rhodes, _history of the u.s_., vol. i., p. .] [footnote : jones, _religious instruction_, p. .] [footnote : jones, _religious instruction_, pp. , .] meeting the argument of those who feared the insubordination of negroes, jones thought that the gospel would do more for the obedience of slaves and the peace of the community than weapons of war. he asserted that the very effort of the masters to instruct their slaves created a strong bond of union between them and their masters.[ ] history, he believed, showed that the direct way of exposing the slaves to acts of insubordination was to leave them in ignorance and superstition to the care of their own religion.[ ] to disprove the falsity of the charge that literary instruction given in neau's school in new york was the cause of a rising of slaves in , he produced evidence that it was due to their opposition to becoming christians. the rebellions in south carolina from to , he maintained, were fomented by the spaniards in st. augustine. the upheaval in new york in was not due to any plot resulting from the instruction of negroes in religion, but rather to a delusion on the part of the whites. the rebellions in camden in and in charleston in were not exceptions to the rule. he conceded that the southampton insurrection in virginia in originated under the color of religion. it was pointed out, however, that this very act itself was a proof that negroes left to work out their own salvation, had fallen victims to "ignorant and misguided teachers" like nat turner. such undesirable leaders, thought he, would never have had the opportunity to do mischief, if the masters had taken it upon themselves to instruct their slaves.[ ] he asserted that no large number of slaves well instructed in the christian religion and taken into the churches directed by white men had ever been found guilty of taking part in servile insurrections.[ ] [footnote : _ibid_., pp. , .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] [footnote : jones, _religious instruction_, etc., p. .] [footnote : plumer, _thoughts_, etc., p. .] to meet the arguments of these reformers the slaveholders found among laymen and preachers able champions to defend the reactionary policy. southerners who had not gone to the extreme in the prohibition of the instruction of negroes felt more inclined to answer the critics of their radical neighbors. one of these defenders thought that the slaves should have some enlightenment but believed that the domestic element of the system of slavery in the southern states afforded "adequate means" for the improvement, adapted to their condition and the circumstances of the country; and furnished "the natural, safe, and effectual means"[ ] of the intellectual and moral elevation of the negro race. another speaking more explicitly, said that the fact that the negro is such per se carried with it the "inference or the necessity that his education--the cultivation of his faculties, or the development of his intelligence, must be in harmony with itself." in other words, "his instruction must be an entirely different thing from the training of the caucasian," in regard to whom "the term education had widely different significations." for this reason these defenders believed that instead of giving the negro systematic instruction he should be placed in the best position possible for the development of his imitative powers--"to call into action that peculiar capacity for copying the habits, mental and moral, of the superior race."[ ] they referred to the facts that slaves still had plantation prayers and preaching by numerous members of their own race, some of whom could read and write, that they were frequently favored by their masters with services expressly for their instruction, that sabbath-schools had been established for the benefit of the young, and finally that slaves were received into the churches which permitted them to hear the same gospel and praise the same god.[ ] [footnote : smith, _lectures on the philosophy and practice of slavery_, pp. _et seq_.] [footnote : van evrie, _negroes and negro slavery_, p. .] [footnote : smith, _lectures on the philosophy of slavery_, p. .] seeing even in the policy of religious instruction nothing but danger to the position of the slave states, certain southerners opposed it under all circumstances. some masters feared that verbal instruction would increase the desire of slaves to learn. such teaching might develop into a progressive system of improvement, which, without any special effort in that direction, would follow in the natural order of things.[ ] timorous persons believed that slaves thus favored would neglect their duties and embrace seasons of religious worship for originating and executing plans for insubordination and villainy. they thought, too, that missionaries from the free states would thereby be afforded an opportunity to come south and inculcate doctrines subversive of the interests and safety of that section.[ ] it would then be only a matter of time before the movement would receive such an impetus that it would dissolve the relations of society as then constituted and revolutionize the civil institutions of the south. [footnote : jones, _religious instruction_, p. ; olmsted, _back country_, pp. - .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] the black population of certain sections, however, was not reduced to heathenism. although often threatening to execute the reactionary laws, many of which were never intended to be rigidly enforced, the southerners did not at once eliminate the negro as a religious instructor.[ ] it was fortunate that a few negroes who had learned the importance of early christian training, organized among themselves local associations. these often appointed an old woman of the plantation to teach children too young to work in the fields, to say prayers, repeat a little catechism, and memorize a few hymns.[ ] but this looked too much like systematic instruction. in some states it was regarded as productive of evils destructive to southern society and was, therefore, discouraged or prohibited.[ ] to local associations organized by kindly slaveholders there was less opposition because the chief aim always was to restrain strangers and undesirable persons from coming south to incite the negroes to servile insurrection. two good examples of these local organizations were the ones found in liberty and mcintosh counties, georgia. the constitutions of these bodies provided that the instruction should be altogether oral, embracing the general principles of the christian religion as understood by orthodox christians.[ ] [footnote : this statement is based on the testimonies of ex-slaves.] [footnote : jones, _religious instruction_, pp. , .] [footnote : while the laws in certain places were not so drastic as to prohibit religious assemblies, the same was effected by patrols and mobs.] [footnote : the constitution of the liberty county association for the religious instruction of negroes, article iv.] directing their efforts thereafter toward mere verbal teaching, religious workers depended upon the memory of the slave to retain sufficient of the truths and principles expounded to effect his conversion. pamphlets, hymn books, and catechisms especially adapted to the work were written by churchmen, and placed in the hands of discreet missionaries acceptable to the slaveholders. among other publications of this kind were dr. capers's short catechism for the use of colored members on _trial in the methodist episcopal church in south carolina; a catechism to be used by teachers in the religious instruction of persons of color in the episcopal church of south carolina_; dr. palmer's _cathechism_; rev. john mine's _catechism_; and c.c. jones's _catechism of scripture, doctrine and practice designed for the original instruction of colored people._ bishop meade was once engaged in collecting such literature addressed particularly to slaves in their stations. these extracts were to be read to them on proper occasions by any member of the family.[ ] [footnote : meade, _sermons of rev. thomas bacon_, p. .] yet on the whole it can be safely stated that there were few societies formed in the south to give the negroes religious and moral instruction. only a few missionaries were exclusively devoted to work among them. in fact, after the reactionary period no propaganda of any southern church included anything which could be designated as systematic instruction of the negroes.[ ] even owners, who took care to feed, clothe, and lodge their slaves well and treated them humanely, often neglected to do anything to enlighten their understanding as to their responsibility to god. [footnote : madison's works, vol. in., p. ; olmsted, _back country_, p. ; birney, _the american churches_, etc., p. ; and jones, _religious instruction_, etc., p. .] observing closely these conditions one would wonder little that many negroes became low and degraded. the very institution of slavery itself produced shiftless, undependable beings, seeking relief whenever possible by giving the least and getting the most from their masters. when the slaves were cut off from the light of the gospel by the large plantation system, they began to exhibit such undesirable traits as insensibility of heart, lasciviousness, stealing, and lying. the cruelty of the "christian" master to the slaves made the latter feel that such a practice was not altogether inhuman. just as the white slave drivers developed into hopeless brutes by having human beings to abuse, so it turned out with certain negroes in their treatment of animals and their fellow-creatures in bondage. if some negroes were commanded not to commit adultery, such a prohibition did not extend to the slave women forced to have illicit relations with masters who sold their mulatto offspring as goods and chattels. if the bondmen were taught not to steal the aim was to protect the supplies of the local plantation. few masters raised any serious objection to the act of their half-starved slaves who at night crossed over to some neighboring plantation to secure food. many white men made it their business to dispose of property stolen by negroes. in the strait in which most slaves were, they had to lie for protection. living in an environment where the actions of almost any colored man were suspected as insurrectionary, negroes were frequently called upon to tell what they knew and were sometimes forced to say what they did not know. furthermore, to prevent the slaves from coöperating to rise against their masters, they were often taught to mistreat and malign each other to keep alive a feeling of hatred. the bad traits of the american negroes resulted then not from an instinct common to the natives of africa, but from the institutions of the south and from the actual teaching of the slaves to be low and depraved that they might never develop sufficient strength to become a powerful element in society. as this system operated to make the negroes either nominal christians or heathen, the anti-slavery men could not be silent.[ ] james g. birney said that the slaveholding churches like indifferent observers, had watched the abasement of the negroes to a plane of beasts without remonstrating with legislatures against the iniquitous measures.[ ] moreover, because there was neither literary nor systematic oral instruction of the colored members of southern congregations, uniting with the church made no change in the condition of the slaves. they were thrown back just as before among their old associates, subjected to corrupting influences, allowed to forego attendance at public worship on sundays, and rarely encouraged to attend family prayers.[ ] in view of this state of affairs birney was not surprised that it was only here and there that one could find a few slaves who had an intelligent view of christianity or of a future life. [footnote : tower, _slavery unmasked_, p. .] [footnote : birney, _american churches_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] william e. charming expressed his deep regret that the whole lot of the slave was fitted to keep his mind in childhood and bondage. to channing it seemed shameful that, although the slave lived in a land of light, few beams found their way to his benighted understanding. he was given no books to excite his curiosity. his master provided for him no teacher but the driver who broke him almost in childhood to the servile tasks which were to fill up his life. channing complained that when benevolence would approach the slave with instruction it was repelled. not being allowed to be taught, the "voice which would speak to him as a man was put to silence." for the lack of the privilege to learn the truth "his immortal spirit was systematically crushed despite the mandate of god to bring all men unto him."[ ] [footnote : channing, _slavery_, p. .] discussing the report that slaves were taught religion, channing rejoiced that any portion of them heard of that truth "which gives inward freedom."[ ] he thought, however, that this number was very small. channing was certain that most slaves were still buried in heathen ignorance. but extensive as was this so-called religious instruction, he did not see how the teaching of the slave to be obedient to his master could exert much power in raising one to the divinity of man. how slavery which tends to debase the mind of the bondman could prepare it for spiritual truth, or how he could comprehend the essential principles of love on hearing it from the lips of his selfish and unjust owner, were questions which no defender of the system ever answered satisfactorily for channing. seeing then no hope for the elevation of the negro as a slave, he became a more determined abolitionist. [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] william jay, a son of the first chief justice of the united states, and an abolition preacher of the ardent type, later directed his attention to these conditions. the keeping of human beings in heathen ignorance by a people professing to reverence the obligation of christianity seemed to him an unpardonable sin. he believed that the natural result of this "compromise of principle, this suppression of truth, this sacrifice to unanimity," had been the adoption of expediency as a standard of right and wrong in the place of the revealed will of god.[ ] "thus," continued he, "good men and good christians have been tempted by their zeal for the american colonization society to countenance opinions and practices inconsistent with justice and humanity."[ ] jay charged to this disastrous policy of neglect the result that in only , of the , , slaves had a saving knowledge of the religion of christ. he deplored the fact that unhappily the evil influence of the reactionaries had not been confined to their own circles but had to a lamentable extent "vitiated the moral sense" of other communities. the proslavery leaders, he said, had reconciled public opinion to the continuance of slavery, and had aggravated those sinful prejudices which subjected the free blacks to insult and persecution and denied them the blessings of education and religious instruction.[ ] [footnote : jay, _an inquiry_, etc., p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : jay, _an inquiry_, etc., p. .] among the most daring of those who censured the south for its reactionary policy was rev. john g. fee, an abolition minister of the gospel of kentucky. seeing the inevitable result in states where public opinion and positive laws had made the education of negroes impossible, fee asserted that in preventing them from reading god's word and at the same time incorporating them into the church as nominal christians, the south had weakened the institution. without the means to learn the principles of religion it was impossible for such an ignorant class to become efficient and useful members.[ ] excoriating those who had kept their servants in ignorance to secure the perpetuity of the institution of slavery, fee maintained that sealing up the mind of the slave, lest he should see his wrongs, was tantamount to cutting off the hand or foot in order to prevent his escape from forced and unwilling servitude.[ ] "if by our practice, our silence, or our sloth," said he, "we perpetuate a system which paralyzes our hands when we attempt to convey to them the bread of life, and which inevitably consigns the great mass of them to unending perdition, can we be guiltless in the sight of him who hath made us stewards of his grace? this is sinful. said the saviour: 'woe unto you lawyers! for ye have taken away the key of knowledge: ye entered not in yourselves, and them that were entering in ye hindered."'[ ] [footnote : fee, _antislavery manual_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : fee, _antislavery manual_, p. .] chapter ix learning in spite of opposition discouraging as these conditions seemed, the situation was not entirely hopeless. the education of the colored people as a public effort had been prohibited south of the border states, but there was still some chance for negroes of that section to acquire knowledge. furthermore, the liberal white people of that section considered these enactments, as we have stated above, not applicable to southerners interested in the improvement of their slaves but to mischievous abolitionists. the truth is that thereafter some citizens disregarded the laws of their states and taught worthy slaves whom they desired to reward or use in business requiring an elementary education. as these prohibitions in slave states were not equally stringent, white and colored teachers of free blacks were not always disturbed. in fact, just before the middle of the nineteenth century there was so much winking at the violation of the reactionary laws that it looked as if some southern states might recede from their radical position and let negroes be educated as they had been in the eighteenth century. the ways in which slaves thereafter acquired knowledge are significant. many picked it up here and there, some followed occupations which were in themselves enlightening, and others learned from slaves whose attainments were unknown to their masters. often influential white men taught negroes not only the rudiments of education but almost anything they wanted to learn. not a few slaves were instructed by the white children whom they accompanied to school. while attending ministers and officials whose work often lay open to their servants, many of the race learned by contact and observation. shrewd negroes sometimes slipped stealthily into back streets, where they studied under a private teacher, or attended a school hidden from the zealous execution of the law. the instances of negroes struggling to obtain an education read like the beautiful romances of a people in an heroic age. sometimes negroes of the type of lott carey[ ] educated themselves. james redpath discovered in savannah that in spite of the law great numbers of slaves had learned to read well. many of them had acquired a rudimentary knowledge of arithmetic. "but," said he, "blazon it to the shame of the south, the knowledge thus acquired has been snatched from the spare records of leisure in spite of their owners' wishes and watchfulness."[ ] c.g. parsons was informed that although poor masters did not venture to teach their slaves, occasionally one with a thirst for knowledge secretly learned the rudiments of education without any instruction.[ ] while on a tour through parts of georgia, e.p. burke observed that, notwithstanding the great precaution which was taken to prevent the mental improvement of the slaves, many of them "stole knowledge enough to enable them to read and write with ease."[ ] robert smalls[ ] of south carolina and alfred t. jones[ ] of kentucky began their education in this manner. [footnote : mott, _biographical sketches_, p. .] [footnote : redpath, _roving editor_, etc., p. .] [footnote : parsons, _inside view_, etc., p. .] [footnote : burke, _reminiscences of georgia_, p. .] [footnote : simmons, _men of mark_, p. .] [footnote : drew, _refugee_, p. .] probably the best example of this class was harrison ellis of alabama. at the age of thirty-five he had acquired a liberal education by his own exertions. upon examination he proved himself a good latin and hebrew scholar and showed still greater proficiency in greek. his attainments in theology were highly satisfactory. _the eufaula shield_, a newspaper of that state, praised him as a man courteous in manners, polite in conversation, and manly in demeanor. knowing how useful ellis would be in a free country, the presbyterian synod of alabama purchased him and his family in at a cost of $ that he might use his talents in elevating his own people in liberia.[ ] [footnote : _niles register_, vol. lxxi., p. .] intelligent negroes secretly communicated to their fellow men what they knew. henry banks of stafford county, virginia, was taught by his brother-in-law to read, but not write.[ ] the father of benedict duncan, a slave in maryland, taught his son the alphabet.[ ] m.w. taylor of kentucky received his first instruction from his mother. h.o. wagoner learned from his parents the first principles of the common branches.[ ] a mulatto of richmond taught john h. smythe when he was between the ages of five and seven.[ ] the mother of dr. c.h. payne of west virginia taught him to read at such an early age that he does not remember when he first developed that power.[ ] dr. e.c. morris, president of the national baptist convention, belonged to a georgia family, all of whom were well instructed by his father.[ ] [footnote : drew, _refugee_, etc., p. .] [footnote : ibid., p. .] [footnote : simmons, _men of mark_, p. .] [footnote : ibid., p. .] [footnote : ibid., p. .] [footnote : this is his own statement.] the white parents of negroes often secured to them the educational facilities then afforded the superior race. the indulgent teacher of j. morris of north carolina was his white father, his master.[ ] w.j. white acquired his education from his mother, who was a white woman.[ ] martha martin, a daughter of her master, a scotch-irishman of georgia, was permitted to go to cincinnati to be educated, while her sister was sent to a southern town to learn the milliner's trade.[ ] then there were cases like that of josiah settle's white father. after the passage of the law forbidding free negroes to remain in the state of tennessee, he took his children to hamilton, ohio, to be educated and there married his actual wife, their colored mother.[ ] [footnote : this is based on an account given by his son.] [footnote : _the crisis_, vol. v., p. .] [footnote : drew, _refugee_, p. .] [footnote : simmons, _men of mark_, p. .] the very employment of slaves in business establishments accelerated their mental development. negroes working in stores often acquired a fair education by assisting clerks. some slaves were clerks themselves. under the observation of e.p. burke came the notable case of a young man belonging to one of the best families of savannah. he could read, write, cipher, and transact business so intelligently that his master often committed important trusts to his care.[ ] b.k. bruce, while still a slave, educated himself when he was working at the printer's trade in brunswick, missouri. even farther south where slavery assumed its worst form, we find that this condition obtained. addressing to the new orleans _commercial bulletin_ a letter on african colonization, john mcdonogh stated that the work imposed on his slaves required some education for which he willingly provided. in he had had no white man over his slaves for twenty years. he had assigned this task to his intelligent colored manager who did his work so well that the master did not go in person once in six months to see what his slaves were doing. he says, "they were, besides, my men of business, enjoyed my confidence, were my clerks, transacted all my affairs, made purchases of materials, collected my rents, leased my houses, took care of my property and effects of every kind, and that with an honesty and fidelity which was proof against every temptation."[ ] traveling in mississippi in , olmsted found another such group of slaves all of whom could read, whereas the master himself was entirely illiterate. he took much pride, however, in praising his loyal, capable, and intelligent negroes.[ ] [footnote : burke, _reminiscences of georgia_, p. . frances anne kemble gives in her journal an interesting account of her observations in georgia. she says: "i must tell you that i have been delighted, surprised, and the very least perplexed, by the sudden petition on the part of our young waiter, aleck, that i will teach him to read. he is a very intelligent lad of about sixteen, and preferred his request with urgent humility that was very touching. i will do it; and yet, it is simply breaking the laws of the government under which i am living. unrighteous laws are made to be broken--perhaps--but then you see, i am a woman, and mr.---- stands between me and the penalty--. i certainly intend to teach aleck to read; and i'll teach every other creature that wants to learn." see kemble, _journal_, p. .] [footnote : mcdonogh, "letter on african colonization."] [footnote : olmsted, _cotton kingdom_, vol. ii., p. .] white persons deeply interested in negroes taught them regardless of public opinion and the law. dr. alexander t. augusta of virginia learned to read while serving white men as a barber.[ ] a prominent white man of memphis taught mrs. mary church terrell's mother french and english. the father of judge r.h. terrell was well-grounded in reading by his overseer during the absence of his master from virginia.[ ] a fugitive slave from essex county of the same state was not allowed to go to school publicly, but had an opportunity to learn from white persons privately.[ ] the master of charles henry green, a slave of delaware, denied him all instruction, but he was permitted to study among the people to whom he was hired.[ ] m.w. taylor of kentucky studied under attorneys j.b. kinkaid and john w. barr, whom he served as messenger.[ ] ignoring his master's orders against frequenting a night school, henry morehead of louisville learned to spell and read sufficiently well to cause his owner to have the school unceremoniously closed.[ ] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] [footnote : this is based on the statements of judge and mrs. terrell.] [footnote : drew, _refugee_, p. .] [footnote : ibid., p. .] [footnote : simmons, _men of mark_, p. .] [footnote : drew, _refugee_, p. .] the educational experiences of president scarborough and of bishop turner show that some white persons were willing to make unusual sacrifices to enlighten negroes. president scarborough began to attend school in his native home in bibb county, georgia, at the age of six years. he went out ostensibly to play, keeping his books concealed under his arm, but spent six or eight hours each day in school until he could read well and had mastered the first principles of geography, grammar, and arithmetic. at the age of ten he took regular lessons in writing under an old south carolinian, j.c. thomas, a rebel of the bitterest type. like frederick douglass, president scarborough received much instruction from his white playmates.[ ] [footnote : simmons, _men of mark_, p. .] bishop turner of newberry court house, in south carolina, purchased a spelling book and secured the services of an old white lady and a white boy, who in violation of the state law taught him to spell as far as two syllables.[ ] the white boy's brother stopped him from teaching this lad of color, pointing out that such an instructor was liable to arrest. for some time he obtained help from an old colored gentleman, a prodigy in sounds. at the age of thirteen his mother employed a white lady to teach him on sundays, but she was soon stopped by indignant white persons of the community. when he attained the age of fifteen he was employed by a number of lawyers in whose favor he ingratiated himself by his unusual power to please people. thereafter these men in defiance of the law taught him to read and write and explained anything he wanted to know about arithmetic, geography, and astronomy.[ ] [footnote : bishop turner says that when he started to learn there were among his acquaintances three colored men who had learned to read the bible in charleston. see simmons, _men of mark_, p. .] [footnote : ibid., p. .] often favorite slaves were taught by white children. by hiding books in a hayloft and getting the white children to teach him, james w. sumler of norfolk, virginia, obtained an elementary education.[ ] while serving as overseer for his scotch-irish master, daniel j. lockhart of the same commonwealth learned to read under the instruction of his owner's boys. they were not interrupted in their benevolent work.[ ] in the same manner john warren, a slave of tennessee, acquired a knowledge of the common branches.[ ] john baptist snowden of maryland was secretly instructed by his owner's children.[ ] uncle cephas, a slave of parson winslow of tennessee, reported that the white children taught him on the sly when they came to see dinah, who was a very good cook. he was never without books during his stay with his master.[ ] one of the grimké sisters taught her little maid to read while brushing her young mistress's locks.[ ] robert harlan, who was brought up in the family of honorable j.m. harlan, acquired the fundamentals of the common branches from harlan's older sons.[ ] the young mistress of mrs. ann woodson of virginia instructed her until she could read in the first reader.[ ] abdy observed in that slaves of kentucky had been thus taught to read. he believed that they were about as well off as they would have been, had they been free.[ ] giving her experiences on a mississippi plantation, susan dabney smedes stated that the white children delighted in teaching the house servants. one night she was formally invited with the master, mistress, governess, and guests by a twelve-year-old school mistress to hear her dozen pupils recite poetry. one of the guests was quite astonished to see his servant recite a piece of poetry which he had learned for this occasion.[ ] confining his operations to the kitchen, another such teacher of this plantation was unusually successful in instructing the adult male slaves. five of these negroes experienced such enlightenment that they became preachers.[ ] [footnote : drew, _refugee_, p. .] [footnote : ibid., p. .] [footnote : ibid., p. .] [footnote : snowden, _autobiography_, p. .] [footnote : albert, _the house of bondage_, p. .] [footnote : birney, _the grimké sisters_, p. .] [footnote : simmons, _men of mark_, p. .] [footnote : this fact is stated in one of her letters.] [footnote : abdy, _journal of a residence and tour in u.s.a._, - . p. .] [footnote : smedes, _a southern planter_, pp. - .] [footnote : ibid., p. .] planters themselves sometimes saw to the education of their slaves. ephraim waterford was bound out in virginia until he was twenty-one on the condition that the man to whom he was hired should teach him to read.[ ] mrs. isaac riley and henry williamson, of maryland, did not attend school but were taught by their master to spell and read but not to write.[ ] the master and mistress of williamson pease, of hardman county, tennessee, were his teachers.[ ] francis fredric began his studies under his master in virginia. frederick douglass was indebted to his kind mistress for his first instruction.[ ] mrs. thomas payne, a slave in what is now west virginia, was fortunate in having a master who was equally benevolent.[ ] honorable i.t. montgomery, now the mayor of mound bayou, mississippi, was, while a slave of jefferson davis's brother, instructed in the common branches and trained to be the confidential accountant of his master's plantation.[ ] while on a tour among the planters of east georgia, c.g. parsons discovered that about of the , slaves there had been taught to read and write. he remarked, too, that such slaves were generally owned by the wealthy slaveholders, who had them schooled when the enlightenment of the bondmen served the purposes of their masters.[ ] [footnote : drew, _a north-side view of slavery_, p. .] [footnote : ibid., p. .] [footnote : ibid., p. .] [footnote : lee, _slave life in virginia and kentucky_, p. x.] [footnote : simmons, _men of mark_, p. .] [footnote : this is his own statement.] [footnote : parsons, _inside view_, etc., p. .] the enlightenment of the negroes, however, was not limited to what could be accomplished by individual efforts. in many southern communities colored schools were maintained in defiance of public opinion or in violation of the law. patrick snead of savannah was sent to a private institution until he could spell quite well and then to a sunday-school for colored children.[ ] richard m. hancock wrote of studying in a private school in newbern, north carolina;[ ] john s. leary went to one in fayetteville eight years;[ ] and w.a. pettiford of this state enjoyed similar advantages in granville county during the fifties. he then moved with his parents to preston county where he again had the opportunity to attend a special school.[ ] about , j.f. boulder was a student in a mixed school of white and colored pupils in delaware.[ ] bishop j.m. brown, a native of the same commonwealth, attended a private school taught by a friendly woman of the quaker sect.[ ] john a. hunter, of maryland, was sent to a school for white children kept by the sister of his mistress, but his second master said that hunter should not have been allowed to study and stopped his attendance.[ ] francis l. cardozo of charleston, south carolina, entered school there in and continued his studies until he was twelve years of age.[ ] during the fifties j.w. morris of the same city attended a school conducted by the then distinguished simeon beard.[ ] in the same way t. mccants stewart[ ] and the grimké brothers [ ] were able to begin their education there prior to emancipation. [footnote : drew, _refugee_, p. .] [footnote : simmons, _men of mark_, p. .] [footnote : ibid., p. .] [footnote : ibid., p. ] [footnote : ibid., p. .] [footnote : ibid., .] [footnote : drew, _refugee_, p. .] [footnote : simmons, _men of mark_, ] [footnote : ibid., p. ] [footnote : ibid., p. ] [footnote : this is their own statement.] more schools for slaves existed than white men knew of, for it was difficult to find them. fredrika bremer heard of secret schools for slaves during her visit to charleston, but she had extreme difficulty in finding such an institution. when she finally located one and gained admission into its quiet chamber, she noticed in a wretched dark hole a "half-dozen poor children, some of whom had an aspect that testified great stupidity and mere animal life."[ ] she was informed, too, that there were in georgia and florida planters who had established schools for the education of the children of their slaves with the intention of preparing them for living as "good free human beings."[ ] frances anne kemble noted such instances in her diary.[ ] the most interesting of these cases was discovered by the union army on its march through georgia. unsuspected by the slave power and undeterred by the terrors of the law, a colored woman by the name of deveaux had for thirty years conducted a negro school in the city of savannah.[ ] [footnote : bremer, _the homes of the new world_, vol. ii., p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. ; burke, _reminiscences of georgia_, p. .] [footnote : kemble, _journal_, etc., p. .] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] the city negroes of virginia continued to maintain schools despite the fact that the fear of servile insurrection caused the state to exercise due vigilance in the execution of the laws. the father of richard de baptiste of fredericksburg made his own residence a school with his children and a few of those of his relatives as pupils. the work was begun by a negro and continued by an educated scotch-irishman, who had followed the profession of teaching in his native land. becoming suspicious that a school of this kind was maintained at the home of de baptiste, the police watched the place but failed to find sufficient evidence to close the institution before it had done its work.[ ] [footnote : simmons, _men of mark_, p. .] in there was found in norfolk, virginia, what the radically proslavery people considered a dangerous white woman. it was discovered that one mrs. douglass and her daughter had for three years been teaching a school maintained for the education of negroes.[ ] it was evident that this institution had not been run so clandestinely but that the opposition to the education of negroes in that city had probably been too weak to bring about the close of the school at an earlier date. mrs. douglass and her pupils were arrested and brought before the court, where she was charged with violating the laws of the state. the defendant acknowledged her guilt, but, pleading ignorance of the law, was discharged on the condition that she would not commit the same "crime" again. censuring the court for this liberal decision the _richmond examiner_ referred to it as offering "a very convenient way of getting out of the scrape." the editor emphasized the fact that the law of virginia imposed on such offenders the penalty of one hundred dollars fine and imprisonment for six months, and that its positive terms "allowed no discretion in the community magistrate."[ ] [footnote : parsons, _inside view of slavery_, p. ; and lyman, _leaven for doughfaces_, p. .] [footnote : _ th annual report of the american and foreign antislavery societies_, , p. .] all such schools, however, were not secretly kept. writing from charleston in fredrika bremer made mention of two colored schools. one of these was a school for free negroes kept with open doors by a white master. their books which she examined were the same as those used in american schools for white children.[ ] the negroes of lexington, kentucky, had in a school in which thirty colored children were taught by a white man from tennessee.[ ] this gentleman had pledged himself to devote the rest of his life to the uplift of his "black brethren."[ ] travelers noted that colored schools were found also in richmond, maysville, danville, and louisville decades before the civil war.[ ] william h. gibson, a native of baltimore, was after teaching at louisville in a day and night school with an enrollment of one hundred pupils, many of whom were slaves with written permits from their masters to attend.[ ] some years later w.h. stewart of that city attended the schools of henry adams, w.h. gibson, and r.t.w. james. robert taylor began his studies there in robert lane's school and took writing from henry adams.[ ] negroes had schools in tennessee also. r.l. perry was during these years attending a school at nashville.[ ] an uncle of dr. j.e. moorland spent some time studying medicine in that city. [footnote : bremer, _the homes of the new world_, vol. ii., p. .] [footnote : abdy, _journal of a residence and tour in u.s.a_., - , p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., pp. - .] [footnote : tower, _slavery unmasked_; dabney, _journal of a tour through the u.s. and canada_, p. ; _niles register_, vol. lxxii., p. ; and simmons, _men of mark_, p. .] [footnote : simmons, _men of mark_, p. .] [footnote : simmons, _men of mark_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] many of these opportunities were made possible by the desire to teach slaves religion. in fact the instruction of negroes after the enactment of prohibitory laws resembled somewhat the teaching of religion with letters during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. thousands of negroes like edward patterson and nat turner learned to read and write in sabbath-schools. white men who diffused such information ran the gauntlet of mobs, but like a baptist preacher of south carolina who was threatened with expulsion from his church, if he did not desist, they worked on and overcame the local prejudice. when preachers themselves dared not undertake this task it was often done by their children, whose benevolent work was winked at as an indulgence to the clerical profession. this charity, however, was not restricted to the narrow circle of the clergy. believing with churchmen that the bible is the revelation of god, many laymen contended that no man should be restrained from knowing his maker directly.[ ] negroes, therefore, almost worshiped the bible, and their anxiety to read it was their greatest incentive to learn. many southerners braved the terrors of public opinion and taught their negroes to read the scriptures. to this extent general coxe of fluvanna county, virginia, taught about one hundred of his adult slaves.[ ] while serving as a professor of the military institute at lexington, stonewall jackson taught a class of negroes in a sunday-school.[ ] [footnote : orr, "an address on the need of education in the south, ."] [footnote : this statement is made by several of general coxe's slaves who are still living.] [footnote : _school journal_, vol. lxxx., p. .] further interest in the cause was shown by the evangelical society of the synods of north carolina and virginia in .[ ] later presbyterians of alabama and georgia urged masters to enlighten their slaves.[ ] the attitude of many mountaineers of kentucky was well set forth in the address of the synod of , proposing a plan for the instruction and emancipation of the slaves.[ ] they complained that throughout the land, so far as they could learn, there was but one school in which slaves could be taught during the week. the light of three or four sabbath-schools was seen "glittering through the darkness" of the black population of the whole state. here and there one found a family where humanity impelled the master, mistress, or children, to the laborious task of private instruction. in consequence of these undesirable conditions the synod recommended that "slaves be instructed in the common elementary branches of education."[ ] [footnote : _african repository_, vol. x., pp. , , and .] [footnote : _ibid._, vol. xi., pp. and .] [footnote : goodell, _slave code_, pp. - .] [footnote : _the enormity of the slave trade, etc_., p. .] some of the objects of such charity turned out to be interesting characters. samuel lowry of tennessee worked and studied privately under rev. mr. talbot of franklin college, and at the age of sixteen was sufficiently advanced to teach with success. he united with the church of the disciples and preached in that connection until .[ ] in some cases colored preachers were judged sufficiently informed, not only to minister to the needs of their own congregations, but to preach to white churches. there was a negro thus engaged in the state of florida.[ ] another colored man of unusual intelligence and much prominence worked his way to the front in giles county, tennessee. in he was the pastor of a hard-shell baptist church, the membership of which was composed of the best white people in the community. he was so well prepared for his work that out of a four days' argument on baptism with a white minister he emerged victor. from this appreciative congregation he received a salary of from six to seven hundred dollars a year.[ ] [footnote : simmons, _men of mark_, p. .] [footnote : bremer, _homes of the new world_, vol. ii., pp. - .] [footnote : _the richmond enquirer_, july, ; and _afr. repository_, vol. xxxv., p. .] statistics of this period show that the proportionately largest number of negroes who learned in spite of opposition were found among the scotch-irish of kentucky and tennessee. possessing few slaves, and having no permanent attachment to the institution, those mountaineers did not yield to the reactionaries who were determined to keep the negroes in heathendom. kentucky and tennessee did not expressly forbid the education of the colored people.[ ] conditions were probably better in kentucky than in tennessee. traveling in kentucky about this time, abdy was favorably impressed with that class of negroes who though originally slaves saved sufficient from their earnings to purchase their freedom and provide for the education of their children.[ ] [footnote : in one-twelfth of the population of lexington consisted of free persons of color, who since had had a baptist church served by a member of their own race and a school in which thirty-two of their children were taught by a white man from tennessee. he had pledged himself to devote the rest of his life to the uplift of his colored brethren. one of these free negroes in lexington had accumulated wealth to the amount of $ , . in louisville, also a center of free colored population, efforts were being made to educate ambitious negroes. travelers noted that colored schools were found there generations before the civil war and mentioned the intelligent and properly speaking colored preachers, who were bought and supported by their congregations. charles dabney, another traveler through this state in , observed that the slaves of this commonwealth were taught to read and believed that they were about as well off as they would have been had they been free. see dabney, _journal of a tour through the u.s. and canada_, p. .] [footnote : abdy, _journal of a tour_, etc., - , pp. - .] it was the desire to train up white men to carry on the work of their liberal fathers that led john g. fee and his colaborers to establish berea college in kentucky. in the charter of this institution was incorporated the declaration that "god has made of one blood all nations that dwell upon the face of the earth." no negroes were admitted to this institution before the civil war, but they came in soon thereafter, some being accepted while returning home wearing their uniforms.[ ] the state has since prohibited the co-education of the two races. [footnote : catalogue of berea college, - .] the centers of this interest in the mountains of tennessee were maryville and knoxville. around these towns were found a goodly number of white persons interested in the elevation of the colored people. there developed such an antislavery sentiment in the former town that half of the students of the maryville theological seminary became abolitionists by .[ ] they were then advocating the social uplift of negroes through the local organ, the _maryville intelligencer_. from this nucleus of antislavery men developed a community with ideals not unlike those of berea.[ ] [footnote : some of the liberal-mindedness of the people of kentucky and tennessee was found in the state of missouri. the question of slavery there, however, was so ardently discussed and prominently kept before the people that while little was done to help the negroes, much was done to reduce them to the plane of beasts. there was not so much of the tendency to wink at the violation of the law on the part of masters in teaching their slaves. but little could be accomplished by private teachers in the dissemination of information among negroes after the free persons of color had been excluded from the state.] [footnote : _fourth annual report of the american antislavery society_, new york, , p. ; and the _new england antislavery almanac_ for , p. .] the knoxville people who advocated the enlightenment of the negroes expressed their sentiment through the _presbyterian witness_. the editor felt that there was not a solitary argument that might be urged in favor of teaching a white man that might not as properly be urged in favor of enlightening a man of color. "if one has a soul that will never die," said he, "so has the other. has one susceptibilities of improvement, mentally, socially, and morally? so has the other. is one bound by the laws of god to improve the talents he has received from the creator's hands? so is the other. is one embraced in the command 'search the scriptures'? so is the other."[ ] he maintained that unless masters could lawfully degrade their slaves to the condition of beasts, they were just as much bound to teach them to read the bible as to teach any other class of their population. [footnote : _african repository_, vol. xxxii., p. .] but great as was the interest of the religious element, the movement for the education of the negroes of the south did not again become a scheme merely for bringing them into the church. masters had more than one reason for favoring the enlightenment of the slaves. georgia slaveholders of the more liberal class came forward about the middle of the nineteenth century, advocating the education of negroes as a means to increase their economic value, and to attach them to their masters. this subject was taken up in the agricultural convention at macon in , and was discussed again in a similar assembly the following year. after some opposition the convention passed a resolution calling on the legislature to enact a law authorizing the education of slaves. the petition was presented by mr. harlston, who introduced the bill embodying this idea, piloted it through the lower house, but failed by two or three votes to secure the sanction of the senate.[ ] in certain influential citizens of north carolina[ ] memorialized their legislature asking among other things that the slaves be taught to read. this petition provoked some discussion, but did not receive as much attention as that of georgia. [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, p. ] [footnote : _african repository_, vol. xxxi., pp. - .] in view of this renewed interest in the education of the negroes of the south we are anxious to know exactly what proportion of the colored population had risen above the plane of illiteracy. unfortunately this cannot be accurately determined. in the first place, it was difficult to find out whether or not a slave could read or write when such a disclosure would often cause him to be dreadfully punished or sold to some cruel master of the lower south. moreover, statistics of this kind are scarce and travelers who undertook to answer this question made conflicting statements. some persons of that day left records which indicate that only a few slaves succeeded in acquiring an imperfect knowledge of the common branches, whereas others noted a larger number of intelligent servants. arfwedson remarked that the slaves seldom learned to read; yet elsewhere he stated that he sometimes found some who had that ability.[ ] abolitionists like may, jay, and garrison would make it seem that the conditions in the south were such that it was almost impossible for a slave to develop intellectual power.[ ] rev. c.c. jones[ ] believed that only an inconsiderable fraction of the slaves could read. witnesses to the contrary, however, are numerous. abdy, smedes, andrews, bremer, and olmsted found during their stay in the south many slaves who had experienced unusual spiritual and mental development.[ ] nehemiah adams, giving the southern view of slavery in , said that large numbers of the slaves could read and were furnished with the scriptures.[ ] amos dresser, who traveled extensively in the southwest, believed that one out of every fifty could read and write.[ ] c.g. parsons thought that five thousand out of the four hundred thousand slaves of georgia had these attainments.[ ] these figures, of course, would run much higher were the free people of color included in the estimates. combining the two it is safe to say that ten per cent. of the adult negroes had the rudiments of education in , but the proportion was much less than it was near the close of the era of better beginnings about . [footnote : arfwedson, _the united states and canada_, p. .] [footnote : see their pamphlets, addresses, and books referred to elsewhere.] [footnote : jones, _religious instruction of negroes_, p. .] [footnote : redpath, _the roving editor_, p. .] [footnote : adams, _south-side view of slavery_, pp. and .] [footnote : dresser, _the narrative of amos dresser_, p. ; dabney, _journal of a tour through the united states and canada_, p. .] [footnote : parsons, _inside view of slavery_, p. .] chapter x educating negroes transplanted to free soil while the negroes of the south were struggling against odds to acquire knowledge, the more ambitious ones were for various reasons making their way to centers of light in the north. many fugitive slaves dreaded being sold to planters of the lower south, the free blacks of some of the commonwealths were forced out by hostile legislation, and not a few others migrated to ameliorate their condition. the transplanting of these people to the northwest took place largely between and . they were directed mainly to columbia and philadelphia, pennsylvania; greenwich, new jersey; and boston, massachusetts, in the east; and to favorable towns and colored communities in the northwest.[ ] the fugitives found ready helpers in elmira, rochester, buffalo, new york; pittsburgh, pennsylvania; gallipolis, portsmouth, akron, and cincinnati, ohio; and detroit, michigan.[ ] colored settlements which proved attractive to these wanderers had been established in ohio, indiana, and canada. that most of the bondmen in quest of freedom and opportunity should seek the northwest had long been the opinion of those actually interested in their enlightenment. the attention of the colored people had been early directed to this section as a more suitable place for their elevation than the jungles of africa selected by the american colonization society. the advocates of western colonization believed that a race thus degraded could be elevated only in a salubrious climate under the influences of institutions developed by western nations. [footnote : siebert, _the underground railroad_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, pp. and .] the rôle played by the negroes in this migration exhibited the development of sufficient mental ability to appreciate this truth. it was chiefly through their intelligent fellows that prior to the reaction ambitious slaves learned to consider the northwest territory the land of opportunity. furthermore, restless freedmen, denied political privileges and prohibited from teaching their children, did not always choose to go to africa. many of them went north of the ohio river and took up land on the public domain. observing this longing for opportunity, benevolent southerners, who saw themselves hindered in carrying out their plan for educating the blacks for citizenship, disposed of their holdings and formed free colonies of their slaves in the same section. white men of this type thus made possible a new era of uplift for the colored race by coming north in time to aid the abolitionists, who had for years constituted a small minority advocating a seemingly hopeless cause. a detailed description of these settlements has no place in this dissertation save as it has a bearing on the development of education among the colored people. these settlements, however, are important here in that they furnish the key to the location of many of the early colored churches and schools of the north and west. philanthropists established a number of negroes near sandy lake in northwestern pennsylvania.[ ] there was a colored settlement near berlin crossroads, ohio.[ ] another group of pioneering negroes emigrating to this state found homes in the van buren township of shelby county. edward coles, a virginian, who in emigrated to illinois, of which he later became governor, made a settlement on a larger scale. he brought his slaves to edwardsville, where they constituted a community known as "coles' negroes."[ ] the settlement made by samuel gist, an englishman possessing extensive plantations in hanover, amherst, and henrico counties, virginia, was still more significant. he provided in his will that his slaves should be freed and sent to the north. it was further directed "that the revenue from his plantation the last year of his life be applied in building schoolhouses and churches for their accommodation," and "that all money coming to him in virginia be set aside for the employment of ministers and teachers to instruct them."[ ] in , wickham, the executor of this estate, purchased land and established these negroes in what was called the upper and lower camps of brown county, ohio. [footnote : siebert, _the underground railroad_, p. .] [footnote : langston,_from the virginia plantation to the national capitol_, p. .] [footnote : davidson and stuvé,_a complete history of illinois_, pp. - ; and washburne, _sketch of edward cole, second governor of illinois_, pp. and .] [footnote : _history of brown county_, pp. _et seq._; and lane, _fifty years and over of akron and summit county, ohio_, pp. - .] augustus wattles, a native of connecticut, made a settlement of negroes in mercer county early in the nineteenth century.[ ] about the year many of the freedmen, then concentrating at cincinnati, were induced to take up , acres of land in the same vicinity.[ ] john harper of north carolina manumitted his slaves in and had them sent to this community.[ ] john randolph of roanoke freed his slaves at his death, and provided for the purchase of farms for them in mercer county.[ ] the germans, however, would not allow them to take possession of these lands. driven later from shelby county[ ] also, these freedmen finally found homes in miami county.[ ] then there was one saunders, a slaveholder of cabell county, now west virginia, who liberated his slaves and furnished them homes in free territory. they finally made their way to cass county, michigan, where philanthropists had established a prosperous colored settlement and supplied it with missionaries and teachers. the slaves of theodoric h. gregg of dinwiddie county, virginia, were liberated in and sent to ohio,[ ] where some of them were educated. [footnote : howe, _ohio historical collections_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : manuscript in the hands of dr. j.e. moreland.] [footnote : _the african repository_, vol. xxii., pp. - .] [footnote : howe, _ohio historical collections_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : simmons, _men of mark_, p. .] many free persons of color of virginia and kentucky went north about the middle of the nineteenth century. the immediate cause in virginia was the enactment in of a law prohibiting the return of such colored students as had been accustomed to go north to attend school after they were denied this privilege in that state.[ ] prominent among these seekers of better opportunities were the parents of richard de baptiste. his father was a popular mechanic of fredericksburg, where he for years maintained a secret school.[ ] a public opinion proscribing the teaching of negroes was then rendering the effort to enlighten them as unpopular in kentucky as it was in virginia. thanks to a benevolent kentuckian, however, an important colored settlement near xenia, greene county, ohio, was then taking shape. the nucleus of this group was furnished about by noah spears, who secured small farms there for sixteen of his former bondmen.[ ] the settlement was not only sought by fugitive slaves and free negroes, but was selected as the site for wilberforce university.[ ] [footnote : russell, _the free negro in virginia_, johns hopkins university studies, series xxxi., no. , p. ; and _acts of the general assembly of virginia_, , p. .] [footnote : simmons, _men of mark_, p. .] [footnote : wright, "negro rural communities" (_southern workman_, vol. xxxvii., p. ).] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, p. ; and _non-slaveholder_, vol. ii., p. .] during the same period, and especially from to , a more continuous and effective migration of southern negroes was being promoted by the quakers of virginia and north carolina.[ ] one of their purposes was educational. convinced that the "buying, selling, and holding of men in slavery" is a sin, these quakers with a view to future manumission had been "careful of the moral and intellectual training of such as they held in servitude."[ ] to elevate their slaves to the plane of men, southern quakers early hit upon the scheme of establishing in the northwest such negroes as they had by education been able to equip for living as citizens. when the reaction in the south made it impossible for the quakers to continue their policy of enlightening the colored people, these philanthropists promoted the migration of the blacks to the northwest territory with still greater zeal. most of these settlements were made in hamilton, howard, wayne, randolph, vigo, gibson, grant, rush, and tipton counties, indiana, and in darke county, ohio.[ ] prominent among these promoters was levi coffin, the quaker abolitionist of north carolina, and reputed president of the underground railroad. he left his state and settled among negroes at newport, indiana.[ ] associated with these leaders also were benjamin lundy of tennessee and james g. birney, once a slaveholder of huntsville, alabama. the latter manumitted his slaves and apprenticed and educated some of them in ohio.[ ] [footnote : wright, "negro rural communities" (_southern workman_, vol. xxxvii., p. ); and bassett, _slavery in north carolina_, p. .] [footnote : a brief statement of the rise and progress of the testimony, etc.] [footnote : wright, "rural negro communities in indiana" (_southern workman_, vol. xxxvii., pp. - ); and bassett, _slavery in north carolina_, pp. and .] [footnote : coffin, _reminiscences_, p. .] [footnote : birney, _james g. birney and his times_, p. .] the importance of this movement to the student of education lies in the fact that it effected an unequal distribution of intelligent negroes. the most ambitious and enlightened ones were fleeing to free territory. as late as there were more intelligent blacks in the south than in the north.[ ] the number of southern colored people who could read was then decidedly larger than that of such persons found in the free states. the continued migration of negroes to the north, despite the operation of the fugitive slave law of , made this distribution more unequal. while the free colored population of the slave states increased only , from to , that of the free states increased , . in the south only delaware, georgia, maryland, and north carolina showed a noticeable increase in the number of free persons of color during the decade immediately preceding the civil war. this element of the population had only slightly increased in alabama, kentucky, missouri, tennessee, virginia, louisiana, south carolina, and the district of columbia. the number of free negroes of florida remained practically constant. those of arkansas, mississippi, and texas diminished. in the north, of course, the tendency was in the other direction. with the exception of maine, new hampshire, vermont, and new york, which had about the same free colored population in as they had in , there was a general increase in the number of negroes in the free states. ohio led in this respect having had during this period an increase of , .[ ] [footnote : jones, _religious instruction of the negroes_, p. .] [footnote : see statistics on pages - .] on comparing the educational statistics of these sections this truth becomes more apparent. in there were , colored children attending school in the south, but by this number had dropped to , . slight increases were noted only in alabama, missouri, delaware, south carolina, and the district of columbia. georgia and mississippi had then practically deprived all negroes of this privilege. the former, which reported one colored child as attending school in , had just seven in ; the latter had none in and only two in . in all other slave states the number of pupils of african blood had materially decreased.[ ] in the free states there were , colored children in school in , and , in . most of these were in new jersey, ohio, new york, and pennsylvania, which in had , ; , ; , ; and , , respectively.[ ] [footnote : statistics of the free colored population of the united states in attending adults unable school to read state population males females total males females total alabama , arkansas california connecticut , , delaware , , , , florida georgia , illinois , , indiana , , , , iowa kentucky , , , , louisiana , , , , , maine , maryland , , , , , massachusetts , , michigan , mississippi missouri , new hampshire new jersey , , , , , , , new york , , , , , , , north carolina , , , , ohio , , , , , , , pennsylvania , , , , , , , ** [** was , in error.**] rhode island , south carolina , tennessee , , texas vermont virginia , , , , wisconsin district of columbia , , , , minnesota new mexico oregon utah total , , , , , , , see sixth census of the united states, .] [footnote : see statistics on pages - .] the report on illiteracy shows further the differences resulting from the divergent educational policies of the two sections. in there were in the slave states , adult free negroes who could not read, and in this number had reached , . in all such commonwealths except arkansas, louisiana, florida, and mississippi there was an increase in illiteracy among the free blacks. these states, however, were hardly exceptional, because arkansas and mississippi had suffered a decrease in their free colored population, that of florida had remained the same, and the difference in the case of louisiana was very slight. the statistics of the northern states indicate just the opposite trend. notwithstanding the increase of persons of color resulting from the influx of the migrating element, there was in all free states exclusive of california, illinois, minnesota, michigan, ohio, and pennsylvania a decrease in the illiteracy of negroes. but these states hardly constitute exceptions; for california, wisconsin, and minnesota had very few colored inhabitants in , and the others had during this decade received so many fugitives in the rough that race prejudice and its concomitant drastic legislation impeded the educational progress of their transplanted freedmen.[ ] in the northern states where this condition did not obtain, the benevolent whites had, in coöperation with the negroes, done much to reduce illiteracy among them during these years. [footnote : statistics of the free colored population of the united states in state population| attending school | adults unable to read +----- +----- +------ +-------- +------- +---- -- males | males females | females total | total ---------------- +-------- +----- +------- +------- +------- +------- +------ alabama , arkansas california , connecticut , , delaware , , , , florida georgia , illinois , , indiana , , , iowa , kansas kentucky , , , , louisiana , , maine , maryland , , , , , massachusetts , , michigan , , , minnesota mississippi missouri , new hampshire new jersey , , , , , , , new york , , , , , , , north carolina , , , , ohio , , , , , , , oregon pennsylvania , , , , , , , rhode island , south carolina , , tennessee , , texas vermont virginia , , , , wisconsin , territories colorado no returns dakota district columbia , , , , nebraska nevada new mexico utah washington total , , , , , , , see seventh census of the united states, vol. .] how the problem of educating these people on free soil was solved can be understood only by keeping in mind the factors of the migration. some of these negroes had unusual capabilities. many of them had in slavery either acquired the rudiments of education or developed sufficient skill to outwit the most determined pursuers. owing so much to mental power, no man was more effective than the successful fugitive in instilling into the minds of his people the value of education. not a few of this type readily added to their attainments to equip themselves for the best service. some of them, like reverend josiah henson, william wells brown, and frederick douglass, became leaders, devoting their time not only to the cause of abolition, but also to the enlightenment of the colored people. moreover, the free negroes migrating to the north were even more effective than the fugitive slaves in advancing the cause of education.[ ] a larger number of the former had picked up useful knowledge. in fact, the prohibition of the education of the free people of color in the south was one of the reasons they could so readily leave their native homes.[ ] the free blacks then going to the northwest territory proved to be decidedly helpful to their benefactors in providing colored churches and schools with educated workers, who otherwise would have been brought from the east at much expense. [footnote : howe, _the refugee from slavery_, p. .] [footnote : russell, _the free negro in virginia_ (johns hopkins university studies, series xxxi., no. , p. ).] on perusing this sketch the educator naturally wonders exactly what intellectual progress was made by these groups on free soil. this question cannot be fully answered for the reason that extant records give no detailed account of many colored settlements which underwent upheaval or failed to endure. in some cases we learn simply that a social center flourished and was then destroyed. on "black friday," january , , eighty negroes were driven out of portsmouth, ohio, at the request of one or two hundred white citizens, set forth in an urgent memorial.[ ] after the passage of the fugitive slave law of the colored population of columbia, pennsylvania, dropped from nine hundred and forty-three to four hundred and eighty-seven.[ ] the negro community in the northwestern part of that state was broken up entirely.[ ] the african methodist and baptist churches of buffalo lost many communicants. out of a membership of one hundred and fourteen, the colored baptist church of rochester lost one hundred and twelve, including its pastor. about the same time eighty-four members of the african baptist church of detroit crossed into canada.[ ] the break-up of these churches meant the end of the day and sunday-schools which were maintained in them. moreover, the migration of these negroes aroused such bitter feeling against them that their schoolhouses were frequently burned. it often seemed that it was just as unpopular to educate the blacks in the north as in the south. ohio, illinois, and oregon enacted laws to prevent them from coming into those commonwealths. [footnote : evans, _a history of scioto county, ohio_, p. .] [footnote : siebert, _the underground railroad_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] we have, however, sufficient evidence of large undertakings to educate the colored people then finding homes in less turbulent parts beyond the ohio. in the first place, almost every settlement made by the quakers was a center to which negroes repaired for enlightenment. in other groups where there was no such opportunity, they had the coöperation of certain philanthropists in providing facilities for their mental and moral development. as a result, the free blacks had access to schools and churches in hamilton, howard, randolph, vigo, gibson, rush, tipton, grant, and wayne counties, indiana,[ ] and madison, monroe, and st. clair counties, illinois. there were colored schools and churches in logan, clark, columbiana, guernsey, jefferson, highland, brown, darke, shelby, green, miami, warren, scioto, gallia, ross, and muskingum counties, ohio.[ ] augustus wattles said that with the assistance of abolitionists he organized twenty-five such schools in ohio counties after .[ ] brown county alone had six. not many years later a negro settlement in gallia county, ohio, was paying a teacher fifty dollars a quarter.[ ] [footnote : wright, "negro rural communities in indiana," _southern workman_, vol. xxxvii., p. ; boone, _the history of education in indiana_, p. ; and simmons, _men of mark_, pp. and .] [footnote : simmons, _men of mark_, p. ; and hickok, _the negro in ohio_, p. .] [footnote : howe, _historical collections of ohio_, p. .] [footnote : hickok, _the negro in ohio_, p. .] still better colored schools were established in pittsburgh, pennsylvania, and in springfield, columbus, and cincinnati, ohio. while the enlightenment of the few negroes in pittsburgh did not require the systematic efforts put forth to elevate the race elsewhere, much was done to provide them educational facilities in that city. children of color first attended the white schools there just as they did throughout the state of pennsylvania.[ ] but when larger numbers of them collected in this gateway to the northwest, either race feeling or the pressing needs of the migrating freedmen brought about the establishment of schools especially adapted to their instruction. such efforts were frequent after .[ ] john thomas johnson, a teacher of the district of columbia, moved to pittsburgh in and became an instructor in a colored school of that city.[ ] cleveland had an "african school" as early as . john malvin, the moving spirit of the enterprise in that city, organized about that time "the school fund society" which established other colored schools in cincinnati, columbus, and springfield.[ ] [footnote : wickersham, _education in pennsylvania_, p. .] [footnote : _life of martin r. delaney_, p. .] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] [footnote : hickok, _the negro in ohio_, p. .] the concentration of the freedmen and fugitives at cincinnati was followed by efforts to train them for higher service. the negroes themselves endeavored to provide their own educational facilities in opening in the first colored school in that city. this school did not continue long, but another was established the same year. thereafter one mr. wing, who kept a private institution, admitted persons of color to his evening classes. on account of a lack of means, however, the negroes of cincinnati did not receive any systematic instruction before . after that year the tide turned in favor of the free blacks of that section, bringing to their assistance a number of daring abolitionists, who helped them to educate themselves. friends of the race, consisting largely of the students of lane seminary, had then organized colored sunday and evening schools, and provided for them scientific and literary lectures twice a week. there was a permanent colored school in cincinnati in . in the negroes of that city contributed $ of the $ expended for their education. four years later, however, they raised $ . for this purpose, and thanks to their economic progress, this sacrifice was less taxing than that of .[ ] in rev. hiram gilmore opened there a high school which among other students attracted p.b.s. pinchback, later governor of louisiana. mary e. miles, a graduate of the normal school at albany, new york, served as an assistant of gilmore after having worked among her people in massachusetts and pennsylvania.[ ] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : delany, _the condition of the colored people_, etc., .] the educational advantages given these people were in no sense despised. although the negroes of the northwest did not always keep pace with their neighbors in things industrial they did not permit the white people to outstrip them much in education. the freedmen so earnestly seized their opportunity to acquire knowledge and accomplished so much in a short period that their educational progress served to disabuse the minds of indifferent whites of the idea that the blacks were not capable of high mental development.[ ] the educational work of these centers, too, tended not only to produce men capable of ministering to the needs of their environment, but to serve as a training center for those who would later be leaders of their people. lewis woodson owed it to friends in pittsburgh that he became an influential teacher. jeremiah h. brown, t. morris chester, james t. bradford, m.r. delany, and bishop benjamin t. tanner obtained much of their elementary education in the early colored schools of that city.[ ] j.c. corbin, a prominent educator before and after the civil war, acquired sufficient knowledge at chillicothe, ohio, to qualify in as an assistant in rev. henry adams's school in louisville.[ ] john m. langston was for a while one of corbin's fellow-students at chillicothe before the former entered oberlin. united states senator hiram revels of mississippi spent some time in a quaker seminary in union county, indiana.[ ] rev. j.t. white, one of the leading spirits of arkansas during the reconstruction, was born and educated in clark county in that state.[ ] fannie richards, still a teacher at detroit, michigan, is another example of the professional negro equipped for service in the northwest before the rebellion.[ ] from other communities of that section came such useful men as rev. j.w. malone, an influential minister of iowa; rev. d.r. roberts, a very successful pastor of chicago; bishop c.t. shaffer of the african methodist episcopal church; rev. john g. mitchell, for many years the dean of the theological department of wilberforce university; and president s.t. mitchell, once the head of the same institution.[ ] [footnote : this statement is based on the accounts of various western freedmen.] [footnote : simmons, _men of mark_, p. .] [footnote : simmons, _men of mark_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : wright, "negro rural communities in indiana," _southern workman_, vol. xxxvii., p. .] in the colored settlements of canada the outlook for negro education was still brighter. this better opportunity was due to the high character of the colonists, to the mutual aid resulting from the proximity of the communities, and to the coöperation of the canadians. the previous experience of most of these adventurers as sojourners in the free states developed in them such noble traits that they did not have to be induced to ameliorate their condition. they had already come under educative influences which prepared them for a larger task in canada. fifteen thousand of sixty thousand negroes in canada in were free born.[ ] many of those, who had always been free, fled to canada[ ] when the fugitive slave law of made it possible for even a dark-complexioned caucasian to be reduced to a state of bondage. fortunately, too, these people settled in the same section. the colored settlements at dawn, colchester, elgin, dresden, windsor, sandwich, queens, bush, wilberforce, hamilton, st. catherines, chatham, riley, anderton, maiden, gonfield, were all in southern ontario. in the course of time the growth of these groups produced a population sufficiently dense to facilitate coöperation in matters pertaining to social betterment. the uplift of the refugees was made less difficult also by the self-denying white persons who were their first teachers and missionaries. while the hardships incident to this pioneer effort all but baffled the ardent apostle to the lowly, he found among the canadian whites so much more sympathy than among the northerners that his work was more agreeable and more successful than it would have been in the free states. ignoring the request that the refugees be turned from canada as undesirables, the white people of that country protected and assisted them.[ ] canadians later underwent some change in their attitude toward their newcomers, but these british-americans never exhibited such militant opposition to the negroes as sometimes developed in the northern states.[ ] [footnote : siebert, _the underground railroad_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, pp. - .] [footnote : siebert, _the underground railroad_, pp. and .] [footnote : _ibid._, .] the educational privileges which the refugees hoped to enjoy in canada, however, were not easily exercised. under the canadian law they could send their children to the common schools, or use their proportionate share of the school funds in providing other educational facilities.[ ] but conditions there did not at first redound to the education of the colored children.[ ] some were too destitute to avail themselves of these opportunities; others, unaccustomed to this equality of fortune, were timid about having their children mingle with those of the whites, and not a few clad their youths so poorly that they became too unhealthy to attend regularly[ ]. besides, race prejudice was not long in making itself the most disturbing factor. in benjamin drew found the minds of the people of sandwich much exercised over the question of admitting negroes into the public schools. the same feeling was then almost as strong in chatham, hamilton, and london[ ]. consequently, "partly owing to this prejudice, and partly to their own preference, the colored people, acting under the provision of the law that allowed them to have separate schools, set up their own schools in sandwich and in many other parts of ontario"[ ]. there were separate schools at colchester, amherstburg, sandwich, dawn, and buxton[ ]. it was doubtless because of the rude behavior of white pupils toward the children of the blacks that their private schools flourished at london, windsor, and other places[ ]. the negroes, themselves, however, did not object to the coeducation of the races. where there were a few white children in colored settlements they were admitted to schools maintained especially for pupils of african descent.[ ] in toronto no distinction in educational privileges was made, but in later years there flourished an evening school for adults of color.[ ] [footnote : howe, _the refugees from slavery_, p. .] [footnote : drew said: "the prejudice against the african race is here [canada] strongly marked. it had not been customary to levy school taxes on the colored people. some three or four years since a trustee assessed a school tax on some of the wealthy citizens of that class. they sent their children at once into the public school. as these sat down the white children near them deserted the benches: and in a day or two the white children were wholly withdrawn, leaving the schoolhouse to the teacher and his colored pupils. the matter was at last 'compromised': a notice 'select school' was put on the schoolhouse: the white children were selected _in_ and the black were selected _out_." see drew's. _a north-side view of slavery_, etc., p. .] [footnote : mitchell, _the underground railroad_, pp. , , and .] [footnote : drew, _a north-side view of slavery_, pp. , , , and .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] [footnote : siebert, _the underground railroad_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] [footnote : _first annual report of the anti-slavery society of canada_, , appendix, p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] the most helpful schools, however, were not those maintained by the state. travelers in canada found the colored mission schools with a larger attendance and doing better work than those maintained at public expense.[ ] the rise of the mission schools was due to the effort to "furnish the conditions under which whatever appreciation of education there was native in a community of negroes, or whatever taste for it could be awakened there," might be "free to assert itself unhindered by real or imagined opposition."[ ] there were no such schools in , but by philanthropists had established the first mission among the canadian refugees.[ ] the english colonial church and school society organized schools at london, amherstburg, and colchester. certain religious organizations of the united states sent ten or more teachers to these settlements.[ ] in these workers were conducting four schools while rev. hiram wilson, their inspector, probably had several other institutions under his supervision.[ ] in levi coffin found a large school at isaac rice's mission at fort maiden or amherstburg.[ ] rice had toiled among these people six years, receiving very little financial aid, and suffering unusual hardships.[ ] mr. e. child, a graduate of oneida institute, was later added to the corps of mission teachers.[ ] in mrs. laura s. haviland was secured to teach the school of the colony of "refugees' home," where the colored people had built a structure "for school and meeting purposes."[ ] on sundays the schoolhouses and churches were crowded by eager seekers, many of whom lived miles away. among these earnest students a traveler saw an aged couple more than eighty years old.[ ] these elementary schools broke the way for a higher institution at dawn, known as the manual labor institute. [footnote : drew, _a north-side view of slavery_, pp. , , , , and .] [footnote : siebert, _the underground railroad_, p. .] [footnote : _father henson's story of his own life_, p. .] [footnote : _first annual report of the anti-slavery society of canada_, , p. .] [footnote : siebert, _the underground railroad_, p. .] [footnote : "while at this place we made our headquarters at isaac j. rice's missionary buildings, where he had a large school for colored children. he had labored here among the colored people, mostly fugitives, for six years. he was a devoted, self-denying worker, had received very little pecuniary help, and had suffered many privations. he was well situated in ohio as pastor of a presbyterian church, and had fine prospects before him, but believed that the lord called him to this field of missionary labor among the fugitive slaves, who came here by hundreds and by thousands, poor, destitute, ignorant, suffering from all the evil influences of slavery. we entered into deep sympathy with him and his labors, realizing the great need there was here for just such an institution as he had established. he had sheltered at his missionary home many hundred of fugitives till other homes for them could be found. this was the great landing point, the principal terminus of the underground railroad of the west." see coffin's _reminiscences_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., pp. - .] [footnote : siebert, _the underground railroad_, p. .] [footnote : haviland, _a woman's work_, pp. , , .] [footnote : haviland, _a woman's work_, pp. , .] with these immigrants, however, this was not a mere passive participation in the work of their amelioration. from the very beginning the colored people partly supported their schools. without the coöperation of the refugees the large private schools at london, chatham, and windsor could not have succeeded. the school at chatham was conducted by alfred whipper,[ ] a colored man, that at windsor by mary e. bibb, the wife of henry bibb,[ ] the founder of the refugees' home settlement, and that at sandwich by mary ann shadd, of delaware.[ ] moreover, the majority of these colonists showed increasing interest in this work of social uplift.[ ] foregoing their economic opportunities many of the refugees congregated in towns of educational facilities. a large number of them left their first abodes to settle near dresden and dawn because of the advantages offered by the manual labor institute. besides, the negroes organized "true bands" which effected among other things the improvement of schools and the increase of their attendance[ ]. [footnote : drew, _a north-side view of slavery_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] [footnote : delany, _the condition of the colored people_, etc., .] [footnote : howe, _the refugees from slavery_, pp. , , , and .] [footnote : according to drew a true band was composed of colored persons of both sexes, associated for their own improvement. "its objects," says he, "are manifold: mainly these:--the members are to take a general interest in each other's welfare; to pursue such plans and objects as may be for their mutual advantage; to improve all schools, and to induce their race to send their children into the schools; to break down all prejudice; to bring all churches as far as possible into one body, and not let minor differences divide them; to prevent litigation by referring all disputes among themselves to a committee; to stop the begging system entirely (that is, going to the united states and thereby representing that the fugitives are starving and suffering, raising large sums of money, of which the fugitives never receive the benefit,--misrepresenting the character of the fugitives for industry and underrating the advance of the country, which supplies abundant work for all at fair wages); to raise such funds among themselves as may be necessary for the poor, the sick, and the destitute fugitive newly arrived; and prepare themselves ultimately to bear their due weight of political power." see drew, _a north-side view of slavery_, p. .] the good results of these schools were apparent. in the same degree that the denial to slaves of mental development tended to brutalize them the teaching of science and religion elevated the fugitives in canada. in fact, the negroes of these settlements soon had ideals differing widely from those of their brethren less favorably circumstanced. they believed in the establishment of homes, respected the sanctity of marriage, and exhibited in their daily life a moral sense of the highest order. travelers found the majority of them neat, orderly, and intelligent[ ]. availing themselves of their opportunities, they quickly qualified as workers among their fellows. an observer reported in that a few were engaged in shop keeping or were employed as clerks, while a still smaller number devoted themselves to teaching and preaching.[ ] before the culture of these settlements was attracting the colored graduates of northern institutions which had begun to give men of african blood an opportunity to study in their professional schools. [footnote : according to the report of the freedmen's inquiry commission published by s.g. howe, an unusually large proportion of the colored population believed in education. he says: "those from the free states had very little schooling in youth; those from the slave states, none at all. considering these things it is rather remarkable that so many can now read and write. moreover, they show their esteem for instruction by their desire to obtain it for their children. they all wish to have their children go to school, and they send them all the time that they can be spared. "canada west has adopted a good system of public instruction, which is well administered. the common schools, though inferior to those of several of the states of the united states, are good. colored children are admitted to them in most places; and where a separate school is open for them, it is as well provided by the government with teachers and apparatus as the other schools are. notwithstanding the growing prejudice against blacks, the authorities evidently mean to deal justly by them in regard to instruction; and even those who advocate separate schools, promise that they shall be equal to white schools. "the colored children in the mixed schools do not differ in their general appearance and behavior from their white comrades. they are usually clean and decently clad. they look quite as the whites; and are perhaps a little more mirthful and roguish. the association is manifestly beneficial to the colored children." see howe, _the refugees_, etc., p. .] [footnote : siebert, _the underground railroad_, p. .] chapter xi higher education the development of the schools and churches established for these transplanted freedmen made more necessary than ever a higher education to develop in them the power to work out their own salvation. it was again the day of thorough training for the negroes. their opportunities for better instruction were offered mainly by the colonizationists and abolitionists.[ ] although these workers had radically different views as to the manner of elevating the colored people, they contributed much to their mental development. the more liberal colonizationists endeavored to furnish free persons of color the facilities for higher education with the hope that their enlightenment would make them so discontented with this country that they would emigrate to liberia. most southern colonizationists accepted this plan but felt that those permanently attached to this country should be kept in ignorance; for if they were enlightened, they would either be freed or exterminated. during the period of reaction, when the elevation of the race was discouraged in the north and prohibited in most parts of the south, the colonizationists continued to secure to negroes, desiring to expatriate themselves, opportunities for education which never would have been given those expecting to remain in the united states.[ ] [footnote : the views of the abolitionists at that time were well expressed by garrison in his address to the people of color in the convention assembled in philadelphia in . he encouraged them to get as much education as possible for themselves and their offspring, to toil long and hard for it as for a pearl of great price. "an ignorant people," said he, "can never occupy any other than a degraded place in society; they can never be truly free until they are intelligent. it is an old maxim that knowledge is power; and not only is it power but rank, wealth, dignity, and protection. that capital brings highest return to a city, state, or nation (as the case may be) which is invested in schools, academies, and colleges. if i had children, rather than that they should grow up in ignorance, i would feed upon bread and water: i would sell my teeth, or extract the blood from my veins." see _minutes of the proceedings of the convention for the improvement of the free people of color_, , pages , .] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , pp. - ; and _the african repository_, under the captions of "education in liberia," and "african education societies," _passim_.] the policy of promoters of african colonization, however, did not immediately become unprogressive. their plan of education differed from previous efforts in that the objects of their philanthropy were to be given every opportunity for mental growth. the colonizationists had learned from experience in educating negroes that it was necessary to begin with the youth.[ ] these workers observed, too, that the exigencies of the time demanded more advanced and better endowed institutions to prepare colored men to instruct others in science and religion, and to fit them for "civil offices in liberia and hayti."[ ] to execute this scheme the leaders of the colonization movement endeavored to educate negroes in "mechanic arts, agriculture, science, and biblical literature."[ ] exceptionally bright youths were to be given special training as catechists, teachers, preachers, and physicians.[ ] a southern planter offered a plantation for the establishment of a suitable institution of learning,[ ] a few masters sent their slaves to eastern schools to be educated, and men organized "education societies" in various parts to carry out this work at shorter range. in colonizationists opened at pasippany, new jersey, a school to give a four-year course to "african youth" who showed "talent, discretion, and piety" and were able to read and write.[ ] twelve years later another effort was made to establish a school of this kind at newark in that state,[ ] while other promoters of that faith were endeavoring to establish a similar institution at hartford, connecticut,[ ] all hoping to make use of the kosciuszko fund.[ ] [footnote : _african repository_, vol. i., p. .] [footnote : _african repository_, vol. ii., p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, vol. xxviii., pp. , ; child, _an appeal_, p. .] [footnote : _african repository_, vol. i., p. .] [footnote : _report of the proceedings at the organization of the african education society_, p. .] [footnote : _african repository_, vol. i., p. , and griffin, _a plea for africa_, p. .] [footnote : _african repository_, vol. iv., pp. , , and ; and vol. vi., pp. , , , and _report of the proceedings of the african education society_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., pp. and and _african repository_, vol. iv., p. .] [footnote : what would become of this plan depended upon the changing fortunes of the men concerned. kosciuszko died in ; and as thomas jefferson refused to take out letters testamentary under this will, benjamin lincoln lear, a trustee of the african education society, who intended to apply for the whole fund, was appointed administrator of it. the fund amounted to about $ , . later kosciuszko armstrong demanded of the administrator $ bequeathed to him by t. kosciuszko in a will alleged to have been executed in paris in . the bill was dismissed by the circuit court of the district of columbia, and the decision of the lower court was confirmed by the united states supreme court in on the grounds that the said will had not been admitted to probate anywhere. to make things still darker just about the time the trustees of the african education society were planning to purchase a farm and select teachers and mechanics to instruct the youth, the heirs of general kosciuszko filed a bill against mr. lear in the supreme court of the united states on the ground of the invalidity of the will executed by kosciuszko in . the death of mr. lear in and that of william wirt, the attorney-general of the united states, soon thereafter, caused a delay in having the case decided. the author does not know exactly what use was finally made of this fund. see _african repository_, vol. it., pp. , ; also peters, , and peters, .] the schemes failed, however, on account of the unyielding opposition of the free negroes and abolitionists. they could see no philanthropy in educating persons to prepare for doom in a deadly climate. the convention of the free people of color assembled in philadelphia in , denounced the colonization movement as an evil, and urged their fellows not to support it. pointing out the impracticability of such schemes, the convention encouraged the race to take steps toward its elevation in this country.[ ] should the colored people be properly educated, the prejudice against them would not continue such as to necessitate their expatriation. the delegates hoped to establish a manual labor college at new haven that negroes might there acquire that "classical knowledge which promotes genius and causes man to soar up to those high intellectual enjoyments and acquirements which place him in a situation to shed upon a country and people that scientific grandeur which is imperishable by time, and drowns in oblivion's cup their moral degradation."[ ] [footnote : williams, _history of the negro race_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. ; and _minutes of the proceedings of the third convention for the improvement of the free people of color_, pp. , , and .] influential abolitionists were also attacking this policy of the colonizationists. william jay, however, delivered against them such diatribes and so wisely exposed their follies that the advocates of colonization learned to consider him as the arch enemy of their cause.[ ] jay advocated the education of the negroes for living where they were. he could not see how a christian could prohibit or condition the education of any individual. to do such a thing was tantamount to preventing him from having a direct revelation of god. how these "educators" could argue that on account of the hopelessness of the endeavors to civilize the blacks they should be removed to a foreign country, and at the same time undertake to provide for them there the same facilities for higher education that white men enjoyed, seemed to jay to be facetiously inconsistent.[ ] if the africans could be elevated in their native land and not in america, it was due to the caucasians' sinful condition, for which the colored people should not be required to suffer the penalty of expatriation.[ ] the desirable thing to do was to influence churches and schools to admit students of color on terms of equality with all other races. [footnote : reese, _letters to honorable william jay._] [footnote : jay, _inquiry_, p. ; and _letters_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] encountering this opposition, the institutions projected by the colonization society existed in name only. exactly how and why the organization failed to make good with its educational policy is well brought out by the wailing cry of one of its promoters. he asserted that "every endeavor to divert the attention of the community or even a portion of the means which the present so imperatively calls for, from the colonization society to measures calculated to bind the colored population to this country and seeking to raise them to a level with the whites, whether by founding colleges or in any other way, tends directly in the proportion that it succeeds, to counteract and thwart the whole plan of colonization."[ ] the colonizationists, therefore, desisted from their attempt to provide higher education for any considerable number of the belated race. seeing that they could not count on the support of the free persons of color, they feared that those thus educated would be induced by the abolitionists to remain in the united states. this would put the colonizationists in the position of increasing the intelligent element of the colored population, which was then regarded as a menace to slavery. consequently these timorous "educators" did practically nothing during the reactionary period to carry out their plan of establishing colleges. [footnote : hodgkin, _inquiry into the merits of the am. col. soc._, p. .] thereafter the colonizationists found it advisable to restrict their efforts to individual cases. not much was said about what they were doing, but now and then appeared notices of negroes who had been privately prepared in the south or publicly in the north for professional work in liberia. dr. william taylor and dr. fleet were thus educated in medicine in the district of columbia.[ ] in the same way john v. degrasse, of new york, and thomas j. white,[ ] of brooklyn, were allowed to complete the medical course at bowdoin in . garrison draper, who had acquired his literary education at dartmouth, studied law in baltimore under friends of the colonization cause, and with a view to going to liberia passed the examination of the maryland bar in .[ ] in the berkshire medical school graduated two colored doctors, who were gratuitously educated by the american colonization society. the graduating class thinned out, however, and one of the professors resigned because of their attendance.[ ] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , and _african repository_, vol. x., p. .] [footnote : _niles register_, vol. lxxv., p. .] [footnote : _african repository_, vol. xxxiv., pp. and .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] not all colonizationists, however, had submitted to this policy of mere individual preparation of those emigrating to liberia. certain of their organizations still believed that it was only through educating the free people of color sufficiently to see their humiliation that a large number of them could be induced to leave this country. as long as they were unable to enjoy the finer things of life, they could not be expected to appreciate the value and use of liberty. it was argued that instead of remaining in this country to wage war on its institutions, the highly enlightened negroes would be glad to go to a foreign land.[ ] by this argument some colonizationists were induced to do more for the general education of the free blacks than they had considered it wise to do during the time of the bold attempts at servile insurrection.[ ] in fact, many of the colored schools of the free states were supported by ardent colonizationists. [footnote : boone, _the history of education in indiana_, p. ; and _african repository_, vol. xxx., p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] the later plan of most colonizationists, however, was to educate the emigrating negroes after they settled in liberia. handsome sums were given for the establishment of schools and colleges in which professorships were endowed for men educated at the expense of churches and colonization societies.[ ] the first institution of consequence in this field was the alexander high school. to this school many of the prominent men of liberia owed the beginning of their liberal education. the english high school at monrovia, the baptist boarding school at bexley, and the protestant episcopal high school at cape palmas also offered courses in higher branches.[ ] still better opportunities were given by the college of west africa and liberia college. the former was founded in as the head of a system of schools established by the methodist episcopal church in every county of the republic.[ ] liberia college was at the request of its founders, the directors of the american colonization society, incorporated by the legislature of the country in . as it took some time to secure adequate funds, the main building was not completed, and students were not admitted before . [footnote : _african repository_, under the caption of "education in liberia" in various volumes; and alexander, _a history of col._, pp. , .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : monroe, _cyclopaedia of education_, vol. iv., p. .] though the majority of the colored students scoffed at the idea of preparing for work in liberia their education for service in the united states was not encouraged. no negro had graduated from a college before , when john b. russworm, a classmate of hon. john p. hale, received his degree from bowdoin.[ ] during the thirties and forties, colored persons, however well prepared, were generally debarred from colleges despite the protests of prominent men. we have no record that as many as fifteen negroes were admitted to higher institutions in this country before . it was only after much debate that union college agreed to accept a colored student on condition that he should swear that he had no negro blood in his veins.[ ] [footnote : dyer, speech in congress on the progress of the negro, .] [footnote : clarke, _the condition of the free people of color_, , p. , and the _sixth annual report of the american antislavery society_, p. .] having had such a little to encourage them to expect a general admission into northern institutions, free blacks and abolitionists concluded that separate colleges for colored people were necessary. the institution demanded for them was thought to have an advantage over the aristocratic college in that labor would be combined with study, making the stay at school pleasant and enabling the poorest youth to secure an education.[ ] it was the kind of higher institution which had already been established in several states to meet the needs of the illiterate whites. such higher training for the negroes was considered necessary, also, because their intermediate schools were after the reaction in a languishing state. the children of color were able to advance but little on account of having nothing to stimulate them. the desired college was, therefore, boomed as an institution to give the common schools vigor, "to kindle the flame of emulation," "to open to beginners discerning the mysteries of arithmetic other mysteries beyond," and above all to serve them as yale or harvard did as the capstone of the educational system of the other race.[ ] [footnote : _proceedings of the third convention of free people of color held in philadelphia in _, pp. and ; _ibid., fourth annual convention_, p. ; _proceedings of the new england antislavery society_, , p. .] [footnote : _minutes and proceedings of the third annual convention of the free people of color_, ; garrison's address.] in the course of time these workers succeeded in various communities. the movement for the higher education of the negroes of the district of columbia centered largely around the academy established by miss myrtilla miner, a worthy young woman of new york. after various discouragements in seeking a special preparation for life's work, she finally concluded that she should devote her time to the moral and intellectual improvement of negroes.[ ] she entered upon her career in washington in assisted by miss anna inman, a native of new york, and a member of the society of friends. after teaching the girls french one year miss inman returned to her home in southfield, rhode island.[ ] finding it difficult to get a permanent location, miss miner had to move from place to place among colored people who were generally persecuted and threatened with conflagration for having a white woman working among them. driven to the extremity of building a schoolhouse for her purpose, she purchased a lot with money raised largely by quakers of new york, philadelphia, and new england, and by harriet beecher stowe.[ ] miss miner had also the support of mrs. means, an aunt of the wife of president franklin pierce, and of united states senator w.h. seward.[ ] effective opposition, however, was not long in developing. articles appeared in the newspapers protesting against this policy of affording negroes "a degree of instruction so far above their social and political condition which must continue in this and every other slaveholding community."[ ] girls were insulted, teachers were abused along the streets, and for lack of police surveillance the house was set afire in . it was sighted, however, in time to be saved.[ ] [footnote : o'connor, _myrtilla miner_, pp. , .] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, , p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, pp. , , and .] [footnote : _the national intelligencer._] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] undisturbed by these efforts to destroy the institution, miss miner persisted in carrying out her plan for the higher education of colored girls of the district of columbia. she worked during the winter, and traveled during the summer to solicit friends and contributions to keep the institution on that higher plane where she planned it should be. she had the building well equipped with all kinds of apparatus, utilized the ample ground for the teaching of horticulture, collected a large library, and secured a number of paintings and engravings with which she enlightened her pupils on the finer arts. in addition to the conventional teaching of seminaries of that day, miss miner provided lectures on scientific and literary subjects by the leading men of that time, and trained her students to teach.[ ] she hoped some day to make the seminary a first-class teachers' college. during the civil war, however, it was difficult for her to find funds, and health having failed her in she died in without realizing this dream.[ ] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] [footnote : those who assisted her were helen moore, margaret clapp, anna h. searing, amanda weaver, anna jones, matilda jones, and lydia mann, the sister of horace mann, who helped miss miner considerably in at the time of her failing health. emily holland was her firm supporter when the institution was passing through the crisis, and stood by her until she breathed her last. see _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] earlier in the nineteenth century the philanthropists of pennsylvania had planned to establish for negroes several higher institutions. chief among these was the institute for colored youth. the founding of an institution of this kind had been made possible by richard humphreys, a quaker, who, on his death in , devised to a board of trustees the sum of $ , to be used for the education of the descendants of the african race.[ ] as the instruction of negroes was then unpopular, no steps were taken to carry out this plan until . the quakers then appointed a board and undertook to execute this provision of humphreys's will. in conformity with the directions of the donor, the board of trustees endeavored to give the colored youth the opportunity to obtain a good education and acquire useful knowledge of trades and commercial occupations. humphreys desired that "they might be enabled to obtain a comfortable livelihood by their own industry, and fulfill the duties of domestic and social life with reputation and fidelity as good citizens and pious men."[ ] accordingly they purchased a tract of land in philadelphia county and taught a number of boys the principles of farming, shoemaking, and other useful occupations. [footnote : wickersham, _history of education in pa._, p. .] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] another stage in the development of this institution was reached in , the year of its incorporation. it then received several small contributions and the handsome sum of $ , from another quaker, jonathan zane. as it seemed by that the attempt to combine the literary with the industrial work had not been successful, it was decided to dispose of the industrial equipment and devote the funds of the institution to the maintenance of an evening school. an effort at the establishment of a day school was made in , but it was not effected before . a building was then erected in lombard street and the school known thereafter as the institute for colored youth was opened with charles l. reason of new york in charge. under him the institution was at once a success in preparing advanced pupils of both sexes for the higher vocations of teaching and preaching. the attendance soon necessitated increased accommodations for which joseph dawson and other quakers liberally provided in later years.[ ] [footnote : _special report of the united states com. of ed._, , p. .] this favorable tendency in pennsylvania led to the establishment of avery college at alleghany city. the necessary fund was bequeathed by rev. charles avery, a rich man of that section, who left an estate of about $ , to be applied to the education and christianization of the african race.[ ] some of this fund was devoted to missionary work in africa, large donations were made to colored institutions of learning, and another portion was appropriated to the establishment of avery college. this institution was incorporated in . soon thereafter it advertised for students, expressing willingness to make every provision without regard to religious proclivities. the school had a three-story brick building, up-to-date apparatus for teaching various branches of natural science, a library of all kinds of literature, and an endowment of $ , to provide for its maintenance. rev. philotas dean, the only white teacher connected with this institution, was its first principal. he served until when he was succeeded by his assistant, m.h. freeman, who in was succeeded by george b. vashon. miss emma j. woodson was an assistant in the institution from to . after the din of the civil war had ceased the institution took on new life, electing a new corps of teachers, who placed the work on a higher plane. among these were rev. h.h. garnett, president, b.k. sampson, harriet c. johnson, and clara g. toop.[ ] [footnote : _african repository_, vol. xxxiv., p. .] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] it was due also to the successful forces at work in pennsylvania that the ashmun institute, now lincoln university, was established in that state. the need of higher education having come to the attention of the presbytery of new castle, that body decided to establish within its limits an institution for the "scientific, classical, and theological education of the colored youth of the male sex." in the synod approved the plans of the founders and provided that the institution should be under the supervision and control of the presbytery or synod within whose bounds it might be located. a committee to solicit funds, find a site, and secure a charter for the school was appointed. they selected for the location hensonville, chester county, pennsylvania.[ ] the legislature incorporated the institution in with john m. dickey, alfred hamilton, robert p. dubois, james latta, john b. spottswood, james crowell, samuel j. dickey, alfred hamilton, john m. kelton, and william wilson as trustees. sufficient buildings and equipment having been provided by , the doors of this institution were opened to young colored men seeking preparation for work in this country and liberia.[ ] [footnote : baird, _a collection_, etc., p. .] [footnote : _special report of the united states com. of ed._, , p. .] an equally successful plan of workers in the west resulted in the founding of the first higher institution to be controlled by negroes. having for some years believed that the colored people needed a college for the preparation of teachers and preachers, the cincinnati conference of the methodist episcopal church in session in appointed rev. john f. wright as general agent to execute this design. addressing themselves immediately to this task rev. mr. wright and his associates solicited from philanthropic persons by the amount of $ , . the agents then made the purchase payment on the beautiful site of tawawa springs, long known as the healthy summer resort near xenia, ohio.[ ] that same year the institution was incorporated as wilberforce university. from to the school had a fair student body, consisting of the mulatto children of southern slaveholders.[ ] when these were kept away, however, by the operations of the civil war, the institution declined so rapidly that it had to be closed for a season. thereafter the trustees appealed again to the african methodist episcopal church which in had declined the invitation to coöperate with the founders. the colored methodists had adhered to their decision to operate union seminary, a manual labor school, which they had started near columbus, ohio.[ ] the proposition was accepted, however, in . for the amount of the debt of $ , which the institution had incurred while passing through the crisis, rev. daniel a. payne and his associates secured the transfer of the property to the african methodist episcopal church. these new directors hoped to develop a first-class university, offering courses in law, medicine, literature, and theology. the debt being speedily removed the school showed evidences of new vigor, but was checked in its progress by an incendiary, who burned the main building while the teachers and pupils were attending an emancipation celebration at xenia, april , . with the amount of insurance received and donations from friends, the trustees were able to construct a more commodious building which still marks the site of these early labors.[ ] [footnote : _the non-slaveholder_, vol. ii., p. .] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , pp. - .] [footnote : _history of greene county, ohio_, chapter on wilberforce; and _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] [footnote : _the non-slaveholder_, vol. ii., p. .] a brighter day for the higher education of the colored people at home, however, had begun to dawn during the forties. the abolitionists were then aggressively demanding consideration for the negroes. men "condescended" to reason together about slavery and the treatment of the colored people. the northern people ceased to think that they had nothing to do with these problems. when these questions were openly discussed in the schools of the north, students and teachers gradually became converted to the doctrine of equality in education. this revolution was instituted by president c.b. storrs, of western reserve college, then at hudson, ohio. his doctrine in regard to the training of the mind "was that men are able to be made only by putting youth under the responsibilities of men." he, therefore, encouraged the free discussion of all important subjects, among which was the appeal of the negroes for enlightenment. this policy gave rise to a spirit of inquiry which permeated the whole school. the victory, however, was not easy. after a long struggle the mind of the college was carried by irresistible argument in favor of fair play for colored youth. this institution had two colored students as early as .[ ] [footnote : _first annual report of the american anti-slavery society_, p. .] northern institutions of learning were then reaching the third stage in their participation in the solution of the negro problem. at first they had to be converted even to allow a free discussion of the question; next the students on being convinced that slavery was a sin, sought to elevate the blacks thus degraded; and finally these workers, who had been accustomed to instructing the neighboring colored people, reached the conclusion that they should be admitted to their schools on equal footing with the whites. geneva college, then at northfield, ohio, now at beaver falls, pennsylvania, was being moved in this manner.[ ] [footnote : _first annual report of the american anti-slavery society_, . p. .] lane seminary, however, is the best example of a school which passed through the three stages of this revolution. this institution was peculiar in that the idea of establishing it originated with a southerner, a merchant of new orleans. it was founded largely by funds of southern presbyterians, was located in cincinnati about a mile from slave territory, and was attended by students from that section.[ ] when the right of free discussion swept the country many of the proslavery students were converted to abolition. to southerners it seemed that the seminary had resolved itself into a society for the elevation of the free blacks. students established sabbath-schools, organized bible classes, and provided lectures for negroes ambitious to do advanced work. measures were taken to establish an academy for colored girls, and a teacher was engaged. but these noble efforts put forth so near the border states soon provoked firm opposition from the proslavery element. some of the students had gone so far in the manifestation of their zeal that the institution was embarrassed by the charge of promoting the social equality of the races.[ ] rather than remain in cincinnati under restrictions, the reform element of the institution moved to the more congenial western reserve where a nucleus of youth and their instructors had assumed the name of oberlin college. this school did so much for the education of negroes before the civil war that it was often spoken of as an institution for the education of the people of color. [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] [footnote : _first annual report of the american anti-slavery society_, p. .] interest in the higher education of the neglected race, however, was not confined to a particular commonwealth. institutions of other states were directing their attention to this task. among others were a school in new york city founded by a clergyman to offer negroes an opportunity to study the classics,[ ] new york central college at mcgrawville, oneida institute conducted by beriah green at whitesboro, thetford academy of vermont, and union literary institute in the center of the communities of freedmen transplanted to indiana. many other of our best institutions were opening their doors to students of african descent. by colored students had attended the institute at easton, pennsylvania; the normal school of albany, new york; bowdoin college, brunswick, maine; rutland college, vermont; jefferson college, pennsylvania; athens college, athens, ohio; franklin college, new athens, ohio; and hanover college near madison, indiana. negroes had taken courses at the medical school of the university of new york; the castleton medical school in vermont; the berkshire medical school, pittsfield, massachusetts; the rush medical school in chicago; the eclectic medical school of philadelphia; the homeopathic college of cleveland; and the medical school of harvard university. colored preachers had been educated in the theological seminary at gettysburg, pennsylvania; the dartmouth theological school; and the theological seminary of charleston, south carolina.[ ] [footnote : simmons, _men of mark_, p. .] [footnote : these facts are taken from m.r. delany's _the condition, elevation, emigration, and destiny of the colored people of the united states practically considered_, published in ; the _reports of the antislavery and colonization societies_, and _the african repository_.] prominent among those who brought about this change in the attitude toward the education of the free blacks was gerrit smith, one of the greatest philanthropists of his time. he secured privileges for negroes in higher institutions by extending aid to such as would open their doors to persons of color. in this way he became a patron of oneida institute, giving it from $ , to $ , in cash and , acres of land in vermont. because of the hospitality of oberlin to colored students he gave the institution large sums of money and , acres of land in virginia valued at $ , . new york central college which opened its doors alike to both races obtained from him several donations.[ ] this gentleman proceeded on the presumption that it is the duty of the white people to elevate the colored and that the education of large numbers of them is indispensable to the uplift of the degraded classes.[ ] he wanted them to have the opportunity for obtaining either a common or classical education; and hoped that they would go out from our institutions well educated for any work to which they might be called in this country or abroad.[ ] he himself established a colored school at peterboro, new york. as this institution offered both industrial and literary courses we shall have occasion to mention it again. both a cause and result of the increasing interest in the higher education of negroes was that these unfortunates had made good with what little training they had. many had by their creative power shown what they could do in business,[ ] some had convinced the world of the inventive genius of the man of color,[ ] others had begun to rank as successful lawyers,[ ] not a few had become distinguished physicians,[ ] and scores of intelligent negro preachers were ministering to the spiritual needs of their people.[ ] s.r. ward, a scholar of some note, was for a few years the pastor of a white church at courtlandville, new york. robert morris had been honored by the appointment as magistrate by the governor of massachusetts, and in new hampshire another man of african blood had been elected to the legislature.[ ] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed_., , p. .] [footnote : _african repository_, vol. x., p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] [footnote : among these were john b. smith, coffin pitts, robert douglas, john p. bell, augustus washington, alexander s. thomas, henry boyd, p.h. ray, and l.t. wilcox.] [footnote : a north carolina negro had discovered a cure for snakebite; henry blair, a slave of maryland, had invented a corn-planter; and roberts of philadelphia had made a machine for lifting railway cars from the tracks.] [footnote : the most noted of these lawyers were robert morris, malcolm b. allen, g.b. vashon, and e.g. walker.] [footnote : the leading negroes of this class were t. joiner white, peter ray, john degrasse, david p. jones, j. gould bias, james ulett, martin delany, and john r. peck. james mccrummill, joseph wilson, thos. kennard, and wm. nickless were noted colored dentists of philadelphia.] [footnote : the prominent colored preachers of that day were titus basfield, b.f. templeton, w.t. catto, benjamin coker, john b. vashon, robert purvis, david ruggles, philip a. bell, charles l. reason, william wells brown, samuel l. ward, james mccune smith, highland garnett, daniel a. payne, james c. pennington, m. haines, and john f. cook.] [footnote : baldwin, _observations_, etc., p. .] thanks to the open doors of liberal schools, the race could boast of a number of efficient educators.[ ] there were martin h. freeman, john newton templeton, mary e. miles, lucy stratton, lewis woodson, john f. cook, mary ann shadd, w.h. allen, and b.w. arnett. professor c.l. reason, a veteran teacher of new york city, was then so well educated that in he was called to the professorship of belles-lettres and the french language in new york central college. many intelligent negroes who followed other occupations had teaching for their avocation. in fact almost every colored person who could read and write was a missionary teacher among his people. [footnote : james b. russworm, an alumnus of bowdoin, was the first negro to receive a degree from a college in this country.] in music, literature, and journalism the negroes were also doing well. eliza greenfield, william jackson, john g. anderson, and william appo made their way in the musical world. lemuel haynes, a successful preacher to a white congregation, took up theology about . paul cuffee wrote an interesting account of sierra leone. rev. daniel coker published a book on slavery in . seven years later came the publication of the _law and doctrine of the african methodist episcopal church_ and the _standard hymnal_ written by richard allen. in rev. george hogarth published an addition to this volume and in brought forward the first magazine of the sect. edward w. moore, a colored teacher of white children in tennessee, wrote an arithmetic. c.l. remond of massachusetts was then a successful lecturer and controversialist. james m. whitefield, george horton, and frances e.w. harper were publishing poems. h.h. garnett and j.c. pennington, known to fame as preachers, attained success also as pamphleteers. r.b. lewis, m.r. delany, william nell, and catto embellished negro history; william wells brown wrote his _three years in europe_; and frederick douglass, the orator, gave the world his creditable autobiography. more effective still were the journalistic efforts of the negro intellect pleading its own cause. [ ] colored newspapers varying from the type of weeklies like _the north star_ to that of the modern magazine like _the anglo-african_ were published in most large towns and cities of the north. [footnote : in john b. russworm and samuel b. cornish began the publication of _the freedom's journal_, appearing afterward as _rights to all_. ten years later p.a. bell was publishing _the weekly advocate_. from to bell and cornish edited _the colored man's journal_, while samuel ruggles sent from his press _the mirror of liberty_. in , one year after the appearance of thomas van rensselaer's _ram's horn_, frederick douglass started _the north star_ at rochester, while g. allen and highland garnett were appealing to the country through _the national watchman_ of troy, new york. that same year martin r. delany brought out _the pittsburg mystery_, and others _the elevator_ at albany, new york. at syracuse appeared the _impartial citizen_ established by samuel r. ward in , three years after which l.h. putnam came before the public in new york city with _the colored man's journal_. then came _the philadelphia freeman_, _the philadelphia citizen_, _the new york phalanx_, _the baltimore elevator_, and _the cincinnati central star_. of a higher order was _he anglo-african_, a magazine published in new york in by thomas hamilton, who was succeeded in editorship by robert hamilton and highland garnett. in there were in existence _the colored american_, _the struggler_, _the watchman_, _the ram's horn_, _the demosthenian shield_, _the national reformer_, _the pittsburg mystery_, _the palladium of liberty_, _the disfranchised american_, _the colored citizen_, _the national watchman_, _the excelsior_, _the christian herald_, _the farmer_, _the impartial citizen_, _the northern star_ of albany, and the _north star_ of rochester.] chapter xii vocational training having before them striking examples of highly educated colored men who could find no employment in the united states, the free negroes began to realize that their preparation was not going hand in hand with their opportunities. industrial education was then emphasized as the proper method of equipping the race for usefulness. the advocacy of such training, however, was in no sense new. the early anti-slavery men regarded it as the prerequisite to emancipation, and the abolitionists urged it as the only safe means of elevating the freedmen. but when the blacks, converted to this doctrine, began to enter the higher pursuits of labor during the forties and fifties, there started a struggle which has been prolonged even into our day. most northern white men had ceased to oppose the enlightenment of the free people of color but still objected to granting them economic equality. the same investigators that discovered increased facilities of conventional education for negroes in reported also that there existed among the white mechanics a formidable prejudice against colored artisans.[ ] [footnote : _minutes of the fourth annual convention for the improvement of the free people of color_, p. .] in opposing the encroachment of negroes on their field of labor the northerners took their cue from the white mechanics in the south. at first laborers of both races worked together in the same room and at the same machine.[ ] but in the nineteenth century, when more white men in the south were condescending to do skilled labor and trying to develop manufactures, they found themselves handicapped by competition with the slave mechanics. before most southern mechanics, machinists, local manufacturers, contractors, and railroad men with the exception of conductors were negroes.[ ] against this custom of making colored men such an economic factor the white mechanics frequently protested.[ ] the riots against negroes occurring in cincinnati, philadelphia, new york, and washington during the thirties and forties owed their origin mainly to an ill feeling between the white and colored skilled laborers.[ ] the white artisans prevailed upon the legislatures of pennsylvania, maryland, and georgia to enact measures hostile to their rivals.[ ] in the state of georgia made it a misdemeanor for a colored mechanic to make a contract for the repair or the erection of buildings.[ ] the people of georgia, however, were not unanimously in favor of keeping the negro artisan down. we have already observed that at the request of the agricultural convention of that state in the legislature all but passed a bill providing for the education of slaves to increase their efficiency and attach them to their masters.[ ] [footnote : buckingham, _slave states of america_, vol. ii., p. .] [footnote : du bois and dill, _the negro american artisan_, p. .] [footnote : du bois and dill, _the negro american artisan_, pp. , , .] [footnote : du bois and dill, _the negro american artisan_, p. , and _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] [footnote : du bois and dill, _the negro american artisan_, pp. , .] [footnote : du bois and dill, _the negro american artisan_, p. .] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] it was unfortunate that the free people of color in the north had not taken up vocational training earlier in the century before the laboring classes realized fraternal consciousness. once pitted against the capitalists during the administration of andrew jackson the working classes learned to think that their interests differed materially from those of the rich, whose privileges had multiplied at the expense of the poor. efforts toward effecting organizations to secure to labor adequate protection began to be successful during van buren's administration. at this time some reformers were boldly demanding the recognition of negroes by all helpful groups. one of the tests of the strength of these protagonists was whether or not they could induce the mechanics of the north to take colored workmen to supply the skilled laborers required by the then rapid economic development of our free states. would the whites permit the blacks to continue as their competitors after labor had been elevated above drudgery? to do this meant the continuation of the custom of taking youths of african blood as apprentices. this the white mechanics of the north generally refused to do.[ ] [footnote : _minutes of the third annual convention of the free people of color_, p. .] the friends of the colored race, however, were not easily discouraged by that "vulgar race prejudice which reigns in the breasts of working classes."[ ] arthur tappan, gerrit smith, and william lloyd garrison made the appeal in behalf of the untrained laborers.[ ] although they knew the difficulties encountered by negroes seeking to learn trades, and could daily observe how unwilling master mechanics were to receive colored boys as apprentices, the abolitionists persisted in saying that by perseverance these youths could succeed in procuring profitable situations.[ ] garrison believed that their failure to find employment at trades was not due so much to racial differences as to their lack of training. speaking to the free people of color in their convention in philadelphia in , he could give them no better advice than that "wherever you can, put your children to trades. a good trade is better than a fortune, because when once obtained it cannot be taken away." discussing the matter further, he said: "now, there can be no reason why your sons should fail to make as ingenious and industrious mechanics, as any white apprentices; and when they once get trades, they will be able to accumulate money; money begets influence, and influence respectability. influence, wealth, and character will certainly destroy those prejudices which now separate you from society."[ ] [footnote : _minutes of the fourth annual convention for the improvement of the free people of color_, p. .] [footnote : this statement is based on articles appearing in _the liberator_ from time to time.] [footnote : _minutes of the second annual convention for the improvement of the free people of color_, , p. .] [footnote : _minutes of the second annual convention for the improvement of the free people of color_, , p. ii.] to expect the coöperation of the white working classes in thus elevating the colored race turned out to be a delusion. they reached the conclusion that in making their headway against capital they had a better chance without negroes than with them. white mechanics of the north not only refused to accept colored boys as apprentices, but would not even work for employers who persisted in hiring negroes. generally refused by the master mechanics of cincinnati, a colored cabinet-maker finally found an englishman who was willing to hire him, but the employees of the shop objected, refusing to allow the newcomer even to work in a room by himself.[ ] a negro who could preach in a white church of the north would have had difficulty in securing the contract to build a new edifice for that congregation. a colored man could then more easily get his son into a lawyer's office to learn law than he could "into a blacksmith shop to blow the bellows and wield the sledge hammer."[ ] [footnote : _the liberator_, june , .] [footnote : douglass, _narrative of the life of frederick douglass_, p. .] left then in a quandary as to what they should do, northern negroes hoped to use the then popular "manual labor schools" to furnish the facilities for both practical and classical education. these schools as operated for the whites, however, were not primarily trade schools. those which admitted persons of african descent paid more attention to actual industrial training for the reason that colored students could not then hope to acquire such knowledge as apprentices. this tendency was well shown by the action of the free negroes through their delegates in the convention assembled in philadelphia in . conversant with the policy of so reshaping the educational system of the country as to carry knowledge even to the hovels, these leaders were easily won to the scheme of reconstructing their schools "on the manual labor system." in this they saw the redemption of the free negroes of the north. these gentlemen were afraid that the colored people were not paying sufficient attention to the development of the power to use their hands skillfully.[ ] one of the first acts of the convention was to inquire as to how fast colored men were becoming attached to mechanical pursuits,[ ] and whether or not there was any prospect that a manual labor school for the instruction of the youth would shortly be established. the report of the committee, to which the question was referred, was so encouraging that the convention itself decided to establish an institution of the kind at new haven, connecticut. they appealed to their fellows for help, called the attention of philanthropists to this need of the race, and commissioned william lloyd garrison to solicit funds in great britain.[ ] garrison found hearty supporters among the friends of freedom in that country. some, who had been induced to contribute to the colonization society, found it more advisable to aid the new movement. charles stewart of liverpool wrote garrison that he could count on his british co-workers to raise $ for this purpose.[ ] at the same time americans were equally active. arthur tappan subscribed $ on the condition that each of nineteen other persons should contribute the same amount.[ ] [footnote : _minutes of the fourth annual convention for the improvement of the free people of color_, p. ; and _the liberator_, october , ; and _the abolitionist_, november, (p. ).] [footnote : _minutes of the fourth annual convention for the improvement of the free people of color_, p. .] [footnote : _minutes of the third annual convention for the improvement of the free people of color_, p. .] [footnote : _the abolitionist_ (november ), p. .] [footnote : _the liberator_, october , .] before these well-laid plans could mature, however, unexpected opposition developed in new haven. indignation meetings were held, protests against this project were filed, and the free people of color were notified that the institution was not desired in connecticut.[ ] it was said that these memorialists feared that a colored college so near to yale might cause friction between the two student bodies, and that the school might attract an unusually large number of undesirable negroes. at their meeting the citizens of new haven resolved "that the founding of colleges for educating colored people is an unwarrantable and dangerous undertaking to the internal concerns of other states and ought to be discouraged, and that the mayor, aldermen, common council, and freemen will resist the movement by every lawful means."[ ] in view of such drastic action the promoters had to abandon their plan. no such protests were made by the citizens of new haven, however, when the colonizationists were planning to establish there a mission school to prepare negroes to leave the country. [footnote : monroe, _cyclopaedia of education_, vol. iv., p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, vol. iv., p. ; and _the liberator_, july , .] the movement, however, was not then stopped by this outburst of race prejudice in new haven. directing attention to another community, the new england antislavery society took up this scheme and collected funds to establish a manual labor school. when the officials had on hand about $ it was discovered that they could accomplish their aim by subsidizing the noyes academy of canaan, new hampshire, and making such changes as were necessary to subserve the purposes intended.[ ] the plan was not to convert this into a colored school. the promoters hoped to maintain there a model academy for the co-education of the races "on the manual labor system." the treasurer of the antislavery society was to turn over certain moneys to this academy to provide for the needs of the colored students, who then numbered fourteen of the fifty-two enrolled. but although it had been reported that the people of the town were in accord with the principal's acceptance of this proposition, there were soon evidences to the contrary. fearing imaginary evils, these modern canaanites destroyed the academy, dragging the building to a swamp with a hundred yoke of oxen.[ ] the better element of the town registered against this outrage only a slight protest. h.h. garnett and alexander crummell were among the colored students who sought education at this academy. [footnote : _the liberator_, july , .] [footnote : _minutes and proceedings of the third annual convention for the improvement of the free people of color_, p. ; and monroe, _cyclopaedia of education_, vol. iv., p. .] this work was more successful in the state of new york. there, too, the cause was championed by the abolitionists.[ ] after the emancipation of all negroes in that commonwealth by the new york antislavery society devoted more time to the elevation of the free people of color. the rapid rise of the laboring classes in this swiftly growing city made it evident to their benefactors that they had to be speedily equipped for competition with white mechanics or be doomed to follow menial employments. the only one of that section to offer negroes anything like the opportunity for industrial training, however, was gerrit smith.[ ] he was fortunate in having sufficient wealth to carry out the plan. in he established in madison county, new york, an institution known as the peterboro manual labor school. the working at trades was provided not altogether to teach the mechanic arts, but to enable the students to support themselves while attending school. as a compensation for instruction, books, room, fuel, light, and board furnished by the founder, the student was expected to labor four hours daily at some agricultural or mechanical employment "important to his education."[ ] the faculty estimated the four hours of labor as worth on an average of about - / cents for each student. [footnote : _minutes and proceedings of the third annual convention for the improvement of the free people of color_, p. .] [footnote : _african repository_, vol. x., p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, vol. x., p. .] efforts were then being made for the establishment of another institution near philadelphia. these endeavors culminated in the above-mentioned benefaction of richard humphreys, by the will of whom $ , was devised to establish a school for the purpose of instructing "descendants of the african race in school learning in the various branches of the mechanical arts and trades and agriculture."[ ] in members of the society of friends organized an association to establish a school such as humphreys had planned. the founders believed that "the most successful method of elevating the moral and intellectual character of the descendants of africa, as well as of improving their social condition, is to extend to them the benefits of a good education, and to instruct them in the knowledge of some useful trade or business, whereby they may be enabled to obtain a comfortable livelihood by their own industry; and through these means to prepare them for fulfilling the various duties of domestic and social life with reputation and fidelity as good citizens and pious men."[ ] directing their attention first to things practical the association purchased in a piece of land in bristol township, philadelphia county, where they offered boys instruction in farming, shoemaking, and other useful trades. their endeavors, so far as training in the mechanic arts was concerned, proved to be a failure. in , therefore, the management decided to discontinue this literary, agricultural, and manual labor experiment. the trustees then sold the farm and stock, apprenticed the male students to mechanical occupations, and opened an evening school. thinking mainly of classical education thereafter, the trustees of the fund finally established the institute for colored youth of which we have spoken elsewhere. [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, , p. .] some of the philanthropists who promoted the practical education of the colored people were found in the negro settlements of the northwest. their first successful attempt in that section was the establishment of the emlen institute in mercer county, ohio. the founding of this institution was due manly to the efforts of augustus wattles who was instrumental in getting a number of emigrating freedmen to leave cincinnati and settle in this county about .[ ] wattles traveled in almost every colored neighborhood of the state and laid before them the benefits of permanent homes and the education for their children. on his first journey he organized, with the assistance of abolitionists, twenty-five schools for colored children. interested thereafter in providing a head for this system he purchased for himself ninety acres of land in mercer county to establish a manual labor institution. he sustained a school on it at his own expense, till the th of november, . wattles then visited philadelphia where he became acquainted with the trustees of the late samuel emlen, a friend of new jersey. he had left by his will $ , "for the support and education in school learning and mechanic arts and agriculture of boys of african and indian descent whose parents would give such youths to the institute."[ ] the means of the two philanthropists were united. the trustees purchased a farm and appointed wattles as superintendent of the establishment, calling it emlen institute. located in a section where the negroes had sufficient interest in education to support a number of elementary schools, this institution once had considerable influence.[ ] it was removed to bucks county, pennsylvania, in and then to warminster in the same county in . [footnote : howe, _ohio historical collections_, p. .] [footnote : howe, _ohio historical collections_, p. .] [footnote : wickersham, _history of education in pa._, p. .] another school of this type was founded in the northwest. this was the union literary institute of spartanburg, indiana. the institution owes its origin to a group of bold, antislavery men who "in the heat of the abolition excitement"[ ] stood firm for the negro. they soon had opposition from the proslavery leaders who impeded the progress of the institution. but thanks to the indefatigable ebenezer tucker, its first principal, the "nigger school" weathered the storm. the institute, however, was founded to educate both races. its charter required that no distinction should be made on account of race, color, rank, or religion. accordingly, although the student body was from the beginning of the school partly white, the board of trustees represented denominations of both races. accessible statistics do not show that colored persons ever constituted more than one-third of the students.[ ] it was one of the most durable of the manual labor schools, having continued after the civil war, carrying out to some extent the original designs of its founders. as the plan to continue it as a private institution proved later to be impracticable the establishment was changed into a public school.[ ] [footnote : boone, _the history of education in indiana_, p. .] [footnote : according to the _report of the united states commissioner of education_ in the colored students then constituted about one-third of those then registered at this institution. see p. of this report.] [footnote : records of the united states bureau of education.] scarcely less popular was the british and american manual labor institute of the colored settlements in upper canada. this school was projected by rev. hiram wilson and josiah henson as early as , but its organization was not undertaken until . the refugees were then called together to decide upon the expenditure of $ collected in england by james c. fuller, a quaker. they decided to establish at dawn "a manual labor school, where children could be taught those elements of knowledge which are usually the occupations of a grammar school, and where boys could be taught in addition the practice of some mechanic art, and the girls could be instructed in those domestic arts which are the proper occupation and ornament of their sex."[ ] a tract of three hundred acres of land was purchased, a few buildings were constructed, and pupils were soon admitted. the managers endeavored to make the school, "self-supporting by the employment of the students for certain portions of the time on the land."[ ] the advantage of schooling of this kind attracted to dresden and dawn sufficient refugees to make these prosperous settlements. rev. hiram wilson, the first principal of the institution, began with fourteen "boarding scholars" when there were no more than fifty colored persons in all the vicinity. in when the population of this community had increased to five hundred there were sixty students attending the school. indian and white children were also admitted. among the students there were also adults varying later in number from fifty-six to one hundred and sixteen.[ ] this institution became very influential among the negroes of canada. travelers mentioned the institute in accounting for the prosperity and good morals of the refugees.[ ] unfortunately, however, after the year when the school reached its zenith, it began to decline on account of bad feeling probably resulting from a divided management. [footnote : henson, _life of josiah henson_, pp. , .] [footnote : henson, _life of josiah henson_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] [footnote : drew, _a north-side view of slavery_, p. ; and coffin, _reminiscences_, pp. , .] studying these facts concerning the manual labor system of education, the student of education sees that it was not generally successful. this may be accounted for in various ways. one might say that colored people were not desired in the higher pursuits of labor and that their preparation for such vocations never received the support of the rank and file of the negroes of the north. they saw then, as they often do now, the seeming impracticability of preparing themselves for occupations which they apparently had no chance to follow. moreover, bright freedmen were not at first attracted to mechanical occupations. ambitious negroes who triumphed over slavery and made their way to the north for educational advantages hoped to enter the higher walks of life. only a few of the race had the foresight of the advocates of industrial training. the majority of the enlightened class desired that they be no longer considered as "persons occupying a menial position, but as capable of the highest development of man."[ ] furthermore, bitterly as some white men hated slavery, and deeply as they seemingly sympathized with the oppressed, they were loath to support a policy which they believed was fatal to their economic interests.[ ] [footnote : _minutes and proceedings of the third annual convention_, etc., p. .] [footnote : _the fifth report of the american antislavery society_, p. ; douglass, _the life and times of_, p. .] the chief reason for the failure of the new educational policy was that the managers of the manual labor schools made the mistakes often committed by promoters of industrial education of our day. at first they proceeded on the presumption that one could obtain a classical education while learning a trade and at the same time earn sufficient to support himself at school. some of the managers of industrial schools have not yet learned that students cannot produce articles for market. the best we can expect from an industrial school to-day is a good apprentice. another handicap was that at that time conditions were seldom sufficiently favorable to enable the employer to derive profit enough from students' work to compensate for the maintenance of the youth at a manual labor school. besides, such a school could not be far-reaching in its results because it could not be so conducted as to accommodate a large number of students. with a slight change in its aims the manual labor schools might have been more successful in the large urban communities, but the aim of their advocates was to establish them in the country where sufficient land for agricultural training could be had, and where students would not be corrupted by the vices of the city. it was equally unfortunate that the teachers who were chosen to carry out this educational policy lacked the preparation adequate to their task. they had any amount of spirit, but an evident lack of understanding as to the meaning of this new education. they failed to unite the qualifications for both the industrial and academic instruction. it was the fault that we find to-day in our industrial schools. those who were responsible for the literary training knew little of and cared still less for the work in mechanic arts, and those who were employed to teach trades seldom had sufficient education to impart what they knew. the students, too, in their efforts to pursue these uncorrelated courses seldom succeeded in making much advance in either. we have no evidence that many negroes were equipped for higher service in the manual labor schools. statistics of and show that there was an increase in the number of colored mechanics, especially in philadelphia, cincinnati, columbus, the western reserve, and canada.[ ] but this was probably due to the decreasing prejudice of the local white mechanics toward the negro artisans fleeing from the south rather than to formal industrial training.[ ] [footnote : clarke, _present condition of the free people of color of the united states_, , pp. , , , , and .] [footnote : _ibid._, pp. , , and .] schools of this kind tended gradually to abandon the idea of combining labor and learning, leaving such provisions mainly as catalogue fictions. many of the western colleges were founded as manual labor schools, but the remains of these beginnings are few and insignificant. oberlin, which was once operated on this basis, still retains the seal of "learning and labor," with a college building in the foreground and a field of grain in the distance. a number of our institutions have recitations now in the forenoon that students may devote the afternoon to labor. in some schools monday instead of saturday is the open day of the week because this was wash-day for the manual labor colleges. even after the civil war some schools had their long vacation in the winter instead of the summer because the latter was the time for manual labor. the people of our day know little about this unsuccessful system. it is evident, therefore, that the leaders who had up to that time dictated the policy of the social betterment of the colored people had failed to find the key to the situation. this task fell to the lot of frederick douglass, who, wiser in his generation than most of his contemporaries, advocated actual vocational training as the greatest leverage for the elevation of the colored people. douglass was given an opportunity to bring his ideas before the public on the occasion of a visit to mrs. harriet beecher stowe. she was then preparing to go to england in response to an invitation from her admirers, who were anxious to see this famous author of _uncle tom's cabin_ and to give her a testimonial. thinking that she would receive large sums of money in england she desired to get mr. douglass's views as to how it could be most profitably spent for the advancement of the free people of color. she was especially interested in those who had become free by their own exertions. mrs. stowe informed her guest that several had suggested the establishment of an educational institution pure and simple, but that she had not been able to concur with them, thinking that it would be better to open an industrial school. douglass was opposed both to the establishment of such a college as was suggested, and to that of an ordinary industrial school where pupils should merely "earn the means of obtaining an education in books." he desired what we now call the vocational school, "a series of workshops where colored men could learn some of the handicrafts, learn to work in iron, wood, and leather, while incidentally acquiring a plain english education."[ ] [footnote : douglass, _the life and times of_, p. .] under douglass's leadership the movement had a new goal. the learning of trades was no longer to be subsidiary to conventional education. just the reverse was true. moreover, it was not to be entrusted to individuals operating on a small scale; it was to be a public effort of larger scope. the aim was to make the education of negroes so articulate with their needs as to improve their economic condition. seeing that despite the successful endeavors of many freedmen to acquire higher education that the race was still kept in penury, douglass believed that by reconstructing their educational policy the friends of the race could teach the colored people to help themselves. pecuniary embarrassment, he thought, was the cause of all evil to the blacks, "for poverty kept them ignorant and their lack of enlightenment kept them degraded." the deliverance from these evils, he contended, could be effected not by such a fancied or artificial elevation as the mere diffusion of information by institutions beyond the immediate needs of the poor. the awful plight of the negroes, as he saw it, resulted directly from not having the opportunity to learn trades, and from "narrowing their limits to earn a livelihood." douglass deplored the fact that even menial employments were rapidly passing away from the colored people. under the caption of "learn trades or starve," he tried to drive home the truth that if the free people of color did not soon heed his advice, foreigners then immigrating in large numbers would elbow them from all lucrative positions. in his own words, "every day begins with the lesson and ends with the lesson that colored men must find new employments, new modes of usefulness to society, or that they must decay under the pressing wants to which their condition is bringing them."[ ] [footnote : douglass, _the life and times of_, p. .] douglass believed in higher education and looked forward to that stage in the development of the negroes when high schools and colleges could contribute to their progress. he knew, however, that it was foolish to think that persons accustomed to the rougher and harder modes of living could in a single leap from their low condition reach that of professional men. the attainment of such positions, he thought, was contingent upon laying a foundation in things material by passing "through the intermediate gradations of agriculture and the mechanic arts."[ ] he was sure that the higher institutions then open to the colored people would be adequate to the task of providing for them all the professional men they then needed, and that the facilities for higher education so far as the schools and colleges in the free states were concerned would increase quite in proportion to the future needs of the race. [footnote : _ibid._, p. .] douglass deplored the fact that education and emigration had gone together. as soon as a colored man of genius like russworm, garnett, ward, or crummell appeared, the so-called friends of the race reached the conclusion that he could better serve his race elsewhere. seeing themselves pitted against odds, such bright men had had to seek more congenial countries. the training of negroes merely to aid the colonization scheme would have little bearing on the situation at home unless its promoters could transplant the majority of the free people of color. the aim then should be not to transplant the race but to adopt a policy such as he had proposed to elevate it in the united states.[ ] [footnote : douglass, _the life and times_, p. .] vocational education, douglass thought, would disprove the so-called mental inferiority of the negroes. he believed that the blacks should show by action that they were equal to the whites rather than depend on the defense of friends who based their arguments not on facts but on certain admitted principles. believing in the mechanical genius of the negroes he hoped that in the establishment of this institution they would have an opportunity for development. in it he saw a benefit not only to the free colored people of the north, but also to the slaves. the strongest argument used by the slaveholder in defense of his precious institution was the low condition of the free people of color of the north. remove this excuse by elevating them and you will hasten the liberation of the slaves. the best refutation of the proslavery argument is the "presentation of an industrious, enterprising, thrifty, and intelligent free black population."[ ] an element of this kind, he believed, would rise under the fostering care of vocational teachers. [footnote : douglass, _the life and times of_, p. .] with douglass this proposition did not descend to the plane of mere suggestion. audiences which he addressed from time to time were informed as to the necessity of providing for the colored people facilities of practical education.[ ] the columns of his paper rendered the cause noble service. he entered upon the advocacy of it with all the zeal of an educational reformer, endeavoring to show how this policy would please all concerned. anxious fathers whose minds had been exercised by the inquiry as to what to do with their sons would welcome the opportunity to have them taught trades. it would be in line with the "eminently practical philanthropy of the negroes' trans-atlantic friends." america would scarcely object to it as an attempt to agitate the mind on slavery or to destroy the union. "it could not be tortured into a cause for hard words by the american people," but the noble and good of all classes would see in the effort "an excellent motive, a benevolent object, temperately, wisely, and practically manifested."[ ] the leading free people of color heeded this message. appealing to them through their delegates assembled in rochester in , douglass secured a warm endorsement of his plan in eloquent speeches and resolutions passed by the convention. [footnote : _african repository_, vol. xxix., p. .] [footnote : douglass, _life and times of_, p. .] this great enterprise, like all others, was soon to encounter opposition. mrs. stowe was attacked as soliciting money abroad for her own private use. so bitter were these proslavery diatribes that henry ward beecher and frederick douglass had some difficulty in convincing the world that her maligners had no grounds for this vicious accusation. furthermore, on taking up the matter with mrs. stowe after her return to the united states, douglass was disappointed to learn that she had abandoned her plan to found a vocational institution. he was never able to see any force in the reasons for the change of policy; but believed that mrs. stowe acted conscientiously, although her action was decidedly embarrassing to him both at home and abroad.[ ] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] chapter xiii education at public expense the persistent struggle of the colored people to have their children educated at public expense shows how resolved they were to be enlightened. in the beginning negroes had no aspiration to secure such assistance. because the free public schools were first regarded as a system to educate the poor, the friends of the free blacks turned them away from these institutions lest men might reproach them with becoming a public charge. moreover, philanthropists deemed it wise to provide separate schools for negroes to bring them into contact with sympathetic persons, who knew their peculiar needs. in the course of time, however, when the stigma of charity was removed as a result of the development of the free schools at public expense, negroes concluded that it was not dishonorable to share the benefits of institutions which they were taxed to support.[ ] unable then to cope with systems thus maintained for the education of the white youth, the directors of colored schools requested that something be appropriated for the education of negroes. complying with these petitions boards of education provided for colored schools which were to be partly or wholly supported at public expense. but it was not long before the abolitionists saw that they had made a mistake in carrying out this policy. the amount appropriated to the support of the special schools was generally inadequate to supply them with the necessary equipment and competent teachers, and in most communities the white people had begun to regard the co-education of the races as undesirable. confronted then with this caste prejudice, one of the hardest struggles of the negroes and their sympathizers was that for democratic education. [footnote : the negroes of baltimore were just prior to the civil war paying $ in taxes annually to support public schools which their children could not attend.] the friends of the colored people in pennsylvania were among the first to direct the attention of the state to the duty of enlightening the blacks as well as the whites. in , , and , respectively, the state passed, in the interest of the poor, acts which although interpreted to exclude negroes from the benefits therein provided, were construed, nevertheless, by friends of the race as authorizing their education at public expense. convinced of the truth of this contention, officials in different parts of the state began to yield in the next decade. at columbia, pennsylvania, the names of such colored children as were entitled to the benefits of the law for the education of the poor were taken in to enable them to attend the free public schools. following the same policy, the abolition society of philadelphia, seeing that the city had established public schools for white children in , applied two years later for the share of the fund to which the children of african descent were entitled by law. the request was granted. the comptroller opened in lombard street in a school for children of color, maintained at the expense of the state. this furnished a precedent for other such schools which were established in , and .[ ] harrisburg had a colored school early in the century, but upon the establishment of the lancastrian school in that city in the thirties, the colored as well as the white children were required to attend it or pay for their education themselves.[ ] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed_., , p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] in the legislature of pennsylvania established a system of public schools, but the claims of the negroes to public education were neither guaranteed nor denied.[ ] the school law of , however, seems to imply that the benefits of the system had always been understood to extend to colored children.[ ] this measure provided that the comptrollers and directors of the several school districts of the state could establish within their respective districts separate schools for negro and mulatto children wherever they could be so located as to accommodate twenty or more pupils. another provision was that wherever such schools should "be established and kept open four months in the year" the directors and comptrollers should not be compelled to admit colored pupils to any other schools of that district. the law was interpreted to mean that wherever such accommodations were not provided the children of negroes could attend the other schools. such was the case in the rural districts where a few colored children often found it pleasant and profitable to attend school with their white friends.[ ] the children of robert b. purvis, however, were turned away from the public schools of philadelphia on the ground that special educational facilities for them had been provided.[ ] it was not until that pennsylvania finally swept away all the distinctions of caste from her public school system. [footnote : _purdon's digest of the laws of pa_., p. , sections - .] [footnote : stroud and brightly, _purdon's digest_, p. , section .] [footnote : wickersham, _history of education in pa_., p. .] [footnote : wigham, _the antislavery cause in america_, p. .] as the colored population of new jersey was never large, there was not sufficient concentration of such persons in that state to give rise to the problems which at times confronted the benevolent people of pennsylvania. great as had been the reaction, the negroes of new jersey never entirely lost the privilege of attending school with white students. the new jersey constitution of provided that the funds for the support of the public schools should be applied for the equal benefit of all the people of that state.[ ] considered then entitled to the benefits of this fund, colored pupils were early admitted into the public schools without any social distinction.[ ] this does not mean that there were no colored schools in that commonwealth. negroes in a few settlements like that of springtown had their own schools.[ ] separate schools were declared illegal by an act of the general assembly in . [footnote : thorpe, _federal and state constitutions_, vol. v., p. .] [footnote : _southern workman_, vol. xxxvii., p. .] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed_., , p. .] certain communities of new york provided separate schools for colored pupils rather than admit them to those open to white children. on recommendation of the superintendent of schools in the state adopted the policy of organizing schools exclusively for colored people.[ ] in places where they already existed, the state could aid the establishment as did the new york common council in , when it appropriated a portion of its fund to the support of the african free schools.[ ] in the new york legislature authorized any district, with the approbation of the school commissioners, to establish a separate school for the colored children in their locality. the superintendent's report for shows that schools for negroes had been established in fifteen counties in the state, reporting an enrollment of pupils. for the maintenance of these schools the sum of $ , had been annually expended. colored pupils were enumerated by the trustees in their annual reports, drew public money for the district in which they resided, and were equally entitled with white children to the benefit of the school fund. in the rural districts colored children were generally admitted to the common schools. wherever race prejudice, however, was sufficiently violent to exclude them from the village school, the trustees were empowered to use the negroes' share of the public money to provide for their education elsewhere. at the same time indigent negroes were to be exempted from the payment of the "rate bill" which fell as a charge upon the other citizens of the district.[ ] [footnote : randall, _hist. of common school system of new york_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] [footnote : randall, _hist. of common school system of new york_, p. .] some trouble had arisen from making special appropriations for incorporated villages. such appropriations, the superintendent had observed, excited prejudice and parsimony; for the trustees of some villages had learned to expend only the special appropriations for the education of the colored pupils, and to use the public money in establishing and maintaining schools for the white children. he believed that it was wrong to argue that negroes were any more a burden to incorporated villages than to cities or rural districts, and that they were, therefore, entitled to every allowance of money to educate them.[ ] [footnote : randall, _hist. of common school system of new york_, p. .] in new york city much had already been done to enlighten the negroes through the schools of the manumission society. but as the increasing population of color necessitated additional facilities, the manumission society obtained from the fund of the public school society partial support of its system. the next step was to unite the african free schools with those of the public school society to reduce the number of organizations participating in the support of negro education. despite the argument of some that the two systems should be kept separate, the property and schools of the manumission society were transferred to the new york public school society in .[ ] thereafter the schools did not do as well as they had done before. the administrative part of the work almost ceased, the schools lost in efficiency, and the former attendance of startlingly dropped. an investigation made in showed that many negroes, intimidated by frequent race riots incident to the reactionary movement, had left the city, while others kept their children at home for safety. it seemed, too, that they looked upon the new system as an innovation, did not like the action of the public school society in reducing their schools of advanced grade to that of the primary, and bore it grievously that so many of the old teachers in whom they had confidence, had been dropped. to bring order out of chaos the investigating committee advised the assimilation of the separate schools to the white. thereupon the society undertook to remake the colored schools, organizing them into a system which offered instruction in primary, intermediate, and grammar departments. the task of reconstruction, however, was not completed until , when the property of the colored schools was transferred to the board of education of new york.[ ] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed_., , p. .] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed_., , p. .] the second transfer marked an epoch in the development of negro education in new york. the board of education proceeded immediately to perfect the system begun at the time of the first change. the new directors reclassified the lower grades, opened other grammar schools, and established a normal school according to the recommendation of the investigating committee of . supervision being more rigid thereafter, the schools made some progress, but failed to accomplish what was expected of them. they were carelessly intrusted for supervision to the care of ward officers, some of whom partly neglected this duty, while others gave the work no attention whatever. it was unfortunate, too, that some of these schools were situated in parts of the city where the people were not interested in the uplift of the despised race, and in a few cases in wards which were almost proslavery. better results followed after the colored schools were brought under the direct supervision of the board of education. before the close of the civil war the sentiment of the people of the state of new york had changed sufficiently to permit colored children to attend the regular public schools in several communities. this, however, was not general. it was, therefore, provided in the revised code of that state in that the board of education of any city or incorporated village might establish separate schools for children and youth of african descent provided such schools be supported in the same manner as those maintained for white children. the last vestige of caste in the public schools of new york was not exterminated until , in the administration of theodore roosevelt as governor of new york. the legislature then passed an act providing that no one should be denied admittance to any public school on account of race, color, or previous condition of servitude.[ ] [footnote : _laws of new york_, , ch. .] in rhode island, where the black population was proportionately larger than in some other new england states, special schools for persons of color continued. these efforts met with success at newport. in the year a separate school for colored children was established at providence and placed in charge of a teacher receiving a salary of $ per annum.[ ] a decade later another such school was opened on pond street in the same city. about this time the school law of rhode island was modified so as to make it a little more favorable to the people of color. the state temporarily adopted a rule by which the school fund was thereafter not distributed, as formerly, according to the number of inhabitants below the age of sixteen. it was to be apportioned, thereafter, according to the number of white persons under the age of ten years, "together with five-fourteenths of the said [colored] population between the ages of ten and twenty-four years." this law remained in force between the years and . under the new system these schools seemingly made progress. in they were no longer giving the mere essentials of reading and writing, but combined the instruction of both the grammar and the primary grades.[ ] [footnote : stockwell, _hist. of education in r.i_., p. .] [footnote : stockwell, _hist. of education in r.i_., p. .] thereafter rhode island had to pass through the intense antislavery struggle which had for its ultimate aim both the freedom of the negro and the democratization of the public schools. petitions were sent to the legislature, and appeals were made to representatives asking for a repeal of those laws which permitted the segregation of the colored children in the public schools. but intense as this agitation became, and urgently as it was put before the public, it failed to gain sufficient momentum to break down the barriers prior to when the legislature of rhode island passed an act abolishing separate schools for negroes.[ ] [footnote : _public laws of the state of rhode island_, - , p. .] prior to the reactionary movement the schools of connecticut were, like most others in new england at that time, open alike to black and white. it seems, too, that colored children were well received and instructed as thoroughly as their white friends. but in , whether on account of the increasing race prejudice or the desire to do for themselves, the colored people of hartford presented to the school society of that city a petition that a separate school for persons of color be established with a part of the public school fund which might be apportioned to them according to their number. finding this request reasonable, the school society decided to take the necessary steps to comply with it. as such an agreement would have no standing at law the matter was recommended to the legislature of the state, which authorized the establishment in that commonwealth of several separate schools for persons of color.[ ] this arrangement, however, soon proved unsatisfactory. because of the small number of negroes in connecticut towns, they found their pro rata inadequate to the maintenance of separate schools. no buildings were provided for them, such schools as they had were not properly supervised, the teachers were poorly paid, and with the exception of a little help from a few philanthropists, the white citizens failed to aid the cause. in , therefore, the pastor of the colored congregational church sent to the school society of hartford a memorial calling attention to the fact that for lack of means the colored schools had been unable to secure suitable quarters and competent teachers. consequently the education of their children had been exceedingly irregular, deficient, and onerous. the school society had done nothing for these institutions but to turn over to them every year their small share of the public fund. these gentlemen then decided to raise by taxation an amount adequate to the support of two better equipped schools and proceeded at once to provide for its collection and expenditure.[ ] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed_., , p. .] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed_., , p. .] the results gave general satisfaction for a while. but as it was a time when much was being done to develop the public schools of new england, the colored people of hartford could not remain contented. they saw the white pupils housed in comfortable buildings and attending properly graded classes, while their own children continued to be crowded into small insanitary rooms and taught as unclassified students. the negroes, therefore, petitioned for a more suitable building and a better organization of their schools. as this request came at the time when the abolitionists were working hard to exterminate caste from the schools of new england, the school committee called a meeting of the memorialists to decide whether they desired to send their children to the white or separate schools.[ ] they decided in favor of the latter, provided that the colored people should have a building adequate to their needs and instruction of the best kind.[ ] complying with this decision the school society erected the much-needed building in . to provide for the maintenance of the separate schools the property of the citizens was taxed at such a rate as to secure to the colored pupils of the city benefits similar to those enjoyed by the white pupils.[ ] [footnote : _minority report_, etc., p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed_., , p. .] ardent antislavery men believed that this segregation in the schools was undemocratic. they asserted that the colored people would never have made such a request had the teachers of the public schools taken the proper interest in them. the negroes, too, had long since been convinced that the white people would not maintain separate schools with the same equipment which they gave their own. this arrangement, however, continued until . the legislature then passed an act declaring that the schools of the state should be open to all persons alike between the ages of four and sixteen, and that no person should be denied instruction in any public school in his school district on account of race or color.[ ] [footnote : _public acts of the general assembly of conn_., , p. .] in the state of massachusetts the contest was most ardent. boston opened its first primary school for colored children in . in other towns like salem and nantucket, new bedford and lowell, where the colored population was also considerable, the same policy was carried out.[ ] some years later, however, both the negroes and their friends saw the error of their early advocacy of the establishment of special schools to escape the stigma of receiving charity. after the change in the attitude toward the public free schools and the further development of caste in american education, there arose in massachusetts a struggle between leaders determined to restrict the negroes' privileges to the use of poorly equipped separate schools and those contending for equality in education. [footnote : _minority report_, etc., p. .] basing their action on the equality of men before the law, the advocates of democratic education held meetings from which went frequent and urgent petitions to school committees until negroes were accepted in the public schools in all towns in massachusetts except boston.[ ] children of african blood were successfully admitted to the new bedford schools on equality with the white youth in .[ ] in the school committee of that town reported that the colored pupils were regular in their attendance, and as successful in their work as the whites. there were then ninety in all in that system; four in the high school, forty in grammar schools, and the remainder in the primary department, all being scattered in such a way as to have one to four in twenty-one to twenty-eight schools. at lowell the children of a colored family were not only among the best in the schools but the greatest favorites in the system.[ ] [footnote : _ibid_., p. , and _niles register_, vol. lxvi., p. .] [footnote : _minority report_, etc., p. .] [footnote : _minority report_, etc., p. .] the consolidation of the colored school of salem with the others of that city led to no disturbance. speaking of the democracy of these schools in mr. richard fletcher said: "the principle of perfect equality is the vital principle of the system. here all classes of the community mingle together. the rich and the poor meet on terms of equality and are prepared by the same instruction to discharge the duties of life. it is the principle of equality cherished in the free schools on which our government and free institutions rest. destroy this principle in the schools and the people would soon cease to be free." at nantucket, however, some trouble was experienced because of the admission of pupils of color in . certain patrons criticized the action adversely and withdrew fourteen of their children from the south grammar school. the system, however, prospered thereafter rather than declined.[ ] many had no trouble in making the change.[ ] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] these victories having been won in other towns of the state by , it soon became evident that boston would have to yield. not only were abolitionists pointing to the ease with which this gain had been made in other towns, but were directing attention to the fact that in these smaller communities negroes were both learning the fundamentals and advancing through the lower grades into the high school. boston, which had a larger black population than all other towns in massachusetts combined, had never seen a colored pupil prepared for a secondary institution in one of its public schools. it was, therefore, evident to fair-minded persons that in cities of separate systems negroes would derive practically no benefit from the school tax which they paid. this agitation for the abolition of caste in the public schools assumed its most violent form in boston during the forties. the abolitionists then organized a more strenuous opposition to the caste system. why sarah redmond and the other children of a family paying tax to support the schools of boston should be turned away from a public school simply because they were persons of color was a problem too difficult for a fair-minded man.[ ] the war of words came, however, when in response to a petition of edmund jackson, h.j. bowditch, and other citizens for the admission of colored people to the public schools in , the majority of the school committee refused the request. following the opinion of chandler, their solicitor, they based their action of making distinction in the public schools on the natural distinction of the races, which "no legislature, no social customs, can efface," and which "renders a promiscuous intermingling in the public schools disadvantageous both to them and to the whites."[ ] questioned as to any positive law providing for such discrimination, chandler gave his opinion that the school committee of boston, under the authority perhaps of the city council, had a legal right to establish and maintain special primary schools for the blacks. he believed, too, that in the exercise of their lawful discretionary power they could exclude white pupils from certain schools and colored pupils from certain other schools when, in their judgment, the best interests of all would thereby be promoted.[ ] [footnote : wigham, _the antislavery cause in america_, p. .] [footnote : _minority report_, etc., p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] encouraged by the fact that colored children were indiscriminately admitted to the schools of salem, nantucket, new bedford, and lowell, in fact, of every city in massachusetts but boston, the friends of the colored people fearlessly attacked the false legal theories of solicitor chandler. the minority of the school committee argued that schools are the common property of all, and that each and all are legally entitled without "let or hindrance" to the equal benefits of all advantages they might confer.[ ] any action, therefore, which tended to restrict to any individual or class the advantages and benefits designed for all, was an illegal use of authority, and an arbitrary act used for pernicious purposes.[ ] their republican system, the minority believed, conferred civil equality and legal rights upon every citizen, knew neither privileged nor degraded classes, made no distinctions, and created no differences between rich and poor, learned and ignorant, or white and black, but extended to all alike its protection and benefits.[ ] the minority considered it a merit of the school system that it produced the fusion of all classes, promoted the feeling of brotherhood, and the habits of equality. the power of the school committee, therefore, was limited and constrained by the general spirit of the civil policy and by the letter and spirit of the laws which regulated the system.[ ] it was further maintained that to debar the colored youth from these advantages, even if they were assured the same external results, would be a sore injustice and would serve as the surest means of perpetuating a prejudice which should be deprecated and discountenanced by all intelligent and christian men.[ ] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] [footnote : _minority report_, etc. pp. and .] [footnote : _ibid_., pp. _et. seq_.] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] to the sophistry of chandler, wendell phillips also made a logical reply. he asserted that as members of a legal body, the school committee should have eyes only for such distinctions among their fellow-citizens as the law recognized and pointed out. phillips believed that they had precedents for the difference of age and sex, for regulation of health, etc., but that when they opened their eyes to the varied complexion, to difference of race, to diversity of creed, to distinctions of caste, they would seek in vain through the laws and institutions of massachusetts for any recognition of their prejudice. he deplored the fact that they had attempted to foist into the legal arrangements of the land a principle utterly repugnant to the state constitution, and that what the sovereignty of the constitution dared not attempt a school committee accomplished. to phillips it seemed crassly inconsistent to say that races permitted to intermarry should be debarred by mr. chandler's "sapient committee" from educational contact.[ ] [footnote : _minority report_, etc., p. .] this agitation continued until when the opposition had grown too strong to be longer resisted. the legislature of massachusetts then enacted a law providing that in determining the qualifications of a scholar to be admitted to any public school no distinction should be made on account of the race, color, or religious opinion of the applicant. it was further provided that a child excluded from school for any of these reasons might bring suit for damages against the offending town.[ ] [footnote : _acts and resolves of the general court of mass_., , ch. .] in other towns of new england, where the black population was considerable, separate schools were established. there was one even in portland, maine.[ ] efforts in this direction were made in vermont and new hampshire, but because of the scarcity of the colored people these states did not have to resort to such segregation. the constitution of vermont was interpreted as extending to negroes the benefits of the bill of rights, making all men free and equal. persons of color, therefore, were regarded as men entitled to all the privileges of freemen, among which was that of education at the expense of the state.[ ] the framers of the constitution of new hampshire were equally liberal in securing this right to the dark race.[ ] but when the principal of an academy at canaan admitted some negroes to his private institution, a mob, as we have observed above, broke up the institution by moving the building to a swamp, while the officials of the town offered no resistance. such a spirit as this accounts for the rise of separate schools in places where the free blacks had the right to attend any institution of learning supported by the state. [footnote : adams, _anti-slavery_, etc., p. .] [footnote : thorpe, _federal and state constitutions_, vol. vi., p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., vol. iv., p. .] the problem of educating the negroes at public expense was perplexing also to the minds of the people of the west. the question became more and more important in ohio as the black population in that commonwealth increased. the law of provided that moneys raised from taxation of half a mill on the dollar should be appropriated to the support of common schools in the respective counties and that these schools should be "open to the youth of every class and grade without distinction."[ ] some interpreted this law to include negroes. to overcome the objection to the partiality shown by school officials the state passed another law in . it excluded colored people from the benefits of the new system, and returned them the amount accruing from the school tax on their property.[ ] thereafter benevolent societies and private associations maintained colored schools in cincinnati, columbus, cleveland, and the southern counties of ohio.[ ] but no help came from the cities and the state before when the legislature passed a law authorizing the establishment of schools for children of color at public expense.[ ] [footnote : _laws of ohio_, vol. xxiii., pp. _et seq_.] [footnote : hickok, _the negro in ohio_, p. .] [footnote : simmons, _men of mark_, p. .] [footnote : _laws of ohio_, vol. liii., pp. - .] the negroes of cincinnati soon discovered that they had not won a great victory. they proceeded at once to elect trustees, organized a system, and employed teachers, relying on the money allotted them by the law on the basis of a per capita division of the school fund received by the board of education of cincinnati. so great was the prejudice that the school officials refused to turn over the required funds on the grounds that the colored trustees were not electors, and therefore could not be office holders qualified to receive and disburse public funds.[ ] under the leadership of john i. gaines the trustees called indignation meetings, and raised sufficient money to employ flamen ball, an attorney, to secure a writ of mandamus. the case was contested by the city officials even in the supreme court of the state which decided against the officious whites.[ ] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed_., , pp. , .] [footnote : _ibid_., , p. .] unfortunately it turned out that this decision did not mean very much to the negroes. there were not many of them in certain settlements and the per capita division of the fund did not secure to them sufficient means to support schools. even if the funds had been adequate to pay teachers, they had no schoolhouses. lawyers of that day contended that the act of had nothing to do with the construction of buildings. after a short period of accomplishing practically nothing material, the law was amended so as to transfer the control of such colored schools to the managers of the white system.[ ] this was taken as a reflection on the standing of the blacks of the city and tended to make them refuse to coöperate with the white board. on account of the failure of this body to act effectively prior to , the people of color were again given power to elect their own trustees.[ ] [footnote : _laws of the state of ohio_, vol. liii., p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] during the contest for the control of the colored schools certain negroes of cincinnati were endeavoring to make good their claim that their children had a right to attend any school maintained by the city. acting upon this contention a colored patron sent his son to a public school, which on account of his presence became the center of unusual excitement.[ ] miss isabella newhall, the teacher to whom he went, immediately complained to the board of education, requesting that he be expelled on account of his race. after "due deliberation" the board of education decided by a vote of fifteen to ten that he would have to withdraw from that school. thereupon two members of that body, residing in the district of the timorous teacher, resigned.[ ] [footnote : new york _tribune_, feb. , .] [footnote : new york _tribune_, feb. , ; and carlier, _l'esclavage_, etc., p. .] thereafter some progress in the development of separate schools in cincinnati was noted. by the board of education of that city had established four public schools for the instruction of negro youths. the colored pupils were showing their appreciation by regular attendance, manly deportment, and rapid progress in the acquisition of knowledge. speaking of these negroes in , john p. foote said that they shared with the white citizens that respect for education, and the diffusion of knowledge, which has ever been one of their "characteristics," and that they had, therefore, been more generally intelligent than free persons of color not only in other states but in all other parts of the world.[ ] it was in appreciation of the worth of this class of progressive negroes that in nicholas longworth built a comfortable school-house for them in cincinnati, leasing it with the privilege of purchasing it in fourteen years.[ ] they met these requirements within the stipulated time, and in secured through other agencies the construction of another building in the western portion of the city.[ ] [footnote : foote, _the schools of cincinnati_, p. .] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed_., , p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] the agitation for the admission of colored children to the public schools was not confined to cincinnati alone, but came up throughout the section north of the ohio river.[ ] where the black population was large enough to form a social center of its own, negroes and their friends could more easily provide for the education of colored children. in settlements, however, in which just a few of them were found, some liberal-minded man usually asked the question why persons taxed to support a system of free schools should not share its benefits. to strengthen their position these benevolent men referred to the rapid progress of the belated people, many of whom within less than a generation from their emergence from slavery had become intelligent, virtuous, and respectable persons, and in not a few cases had accumulated considerable wealth.[ ] those who insisted that children of african blood should be debarred from the regular public schools had for their defense the so-called inequality of the races. some went so far as to concede the claims made for the progressive blacks, and even to praise those of their respective communities.[ ] but great as their progress had been, the advocates of the restriction of their educational privileges considered it wrong to claim for them equality with the caucasian race. they believed that society would suffer from an intermingling of the children of the two races. [footnote : hickok, _the negro in ohio_, ch. iii.; and boone, _history of education in indiana_, p. .] [footnote : foote, _the schools of cincinnati_, p. .] [footnote : _ibid_., p. .] in indiana the problem of educating negroes was more difficult. r.g. boone says that, "nominally for the first few years of the educational experience of the state, black and white children had equal privileges in the few schools that existed."[ ] but this could not continue long. abolitionists were moving the country, and freedmen soon found enemies as well as friends in the ohio valley. indiana, which was in so very "solicitous for a system of education which would guard against caste distinction," provided in that the white inhabitants alone of each congressional township should constitute the local school corporation.[ ] in a petition was sent to the legislature requesting that a reasonable share of the school fund be appropriated to the education of negroes, but the committee to which it was referred reported that legislation on that subject was inexpedient.[ ] with the exception of prohibiting the immigration of such persons into that state not much account of them was taken until . then the legislature amended the law authorizing the establishment of schools in townships so as to provide that in all enumerations the children of color should not be taken, that the property of the blacks and mulattoes should not be taxed for school purposes, and that their children should not derive any benefit from the common schools of that state.[ ] this provision had really been incorporated into the former law, but was omitted by oversight on the part of the engrossing clerk.[ ] [footnote : boone, _history of ed. in indiana_, p. .] [footnote : _laws of a general nature of the state of indiana_, , p. .] [footnote : boone, _history of education in indiana_, p. .] [footnote : _laws of a general nature of the state of indiana_, , p. .] [footnote : boone, _history of education in indiana_, p. .] a resolution of the house instructing the educational committee to report a bill for the establishment of schools for the education of the colored children of the state was overwhelmingly defeated in . explaining their position the opponents said that it was held "to be better for the weaker party that no privilege be extended to them," as the tendency to such "might be to induce the vain belief that the prejudice of the dominant race could ever be so mollified as to break down the rugged barriers that must forever exist between their social relations." the friends of the blacks believed that by elevating them the sense of their degradation would be keener, and so the greater would be their anxiety to seek another country, where with the spirit of men they "might breathe fresh air of social as well as political liberty."[ ] this argument, however, availed little. before the civil war the negroes of indiana received help in acquiring knowledge from no source but private and mission schools. [footnote : boone, _history of education in indiana_, p. .] in illinois the situation was better than in indiana, but far from encouraging. the constitution of restricted the benefits of the school law to white children, stipulating the word white throughout the act so as to make clear the intention of the legislators.[ ] it seemed to some that, in excluding the colored children from the public schools, the law contemplated the establishment of separate schools in that it provided that the amount of school taxes collected from negroes should be returned. exactly what should be done with such money, however, was not stated in the act. but even if that were the object in view, the provision was of little help to the people of color for the reason that the clause providing for the return of school taxes was seldom executed. in the few cases in which it was carried out the fund thus raised was not adequate to the support of a special school, and generally there were not sufficient colored children in a community to justify such an outlay. in districts having control of their local affairs, however, the children of negroes were often given a chance to attend school. [footnote : the constitution of illinois, in the _journal of the constitution of the state of illinois_, , p. .] as this scant consideration given negroes of illinois left one-half of the six thousand of their children out of the pale of education, earnest appeals were made that the restrictive word white be stricken from the school law. the friends of the colored people sought to show how inconsistent this system was with the spirit of the constitution of the state, which, interpreted as they saw it, guaranteed all persons equality.[ ] they held meetings from which came renewed petitions to their representatives, entreating them to repeal or amend the old school law. it was not so much a question as to whether or not there should be separate schools as it was whether or not the people of color should be educated. the dispersed condition of their children made it impossible for the state to provide for them in special schools the same educational facilities as those furnished the youth of caucasian blood. chicago tried the experiment in , but failing to get the desired result, incorporated the colored children into the white schools the following year.[ ] the state legislature had sufficient moral courage to do away with these caste distinctions in .[ ] [footnote : thorpe, _federal and state constitutions_, const. of illinois.] [footnote : _special report of u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] [footnote : starr and curtis, _annotated statutes of illinois_, ch. , p. .] in other states of the west and the north where few colored people were found, the solution of the problem was easier. after negroes were legal voters in the school meetings of michigan. colored children were enumerated with others to determine the basis for the apportionment of the school funds, and were allowed to attend the public schools. wisconsin granted negroes equal school privileges.[ ] after the adoption of a free constitution in , iowa "determined no man's rights by the color of his skin." wherever the word white had served to restrict the privileges of persons of color it was stricken out to make it possible for them not only to bear arms and to vote but to attend public schools.[ ] [footnote : _special report of the u.s. com. of ed._, , p. .] [footnote : _journal of the constitutional convention of the state of iowa_, , p. of the constitution.] appendix documents the following resolutions on the subject treated in this part (the instruction of negroes) are from the works of dr. cotton mather.--bishop william meade. st. i would always remember, that my servants are in some sense my children, and by taking care that they want nothing which may be good for them, i would make them as my children; and so far as the methods of instituting piety into the mind which i use with my children, may be properly and prudently used with my servants, they shall be partakers in them--nor will i leave them ignorant of anything, wherein i may instruct them to be useful to their generation. d. i will see that my servants be furnished with bibles and be able and careful to read the lively oracles. i will put bibles and other good and proper books into their hands; will allow them time to read and assure myself that they do not misspend this time--if i can discern any wicked books in their hands, i will take away those pestilential instruments of wickedness. d. i will have my servants present at the religious exercises of my family; and will drop, either in the exhortations, in the prayers or daily sacrifices of the family such pages as may have a tendency to quicken a sense of religion in them. th. the article of catechising, as far as the age or state of the servants will permit it to be done with decency, shall extend to them also,--and they shall be concerned in the conferences in which i may be engaged with my family, in the repetition of the public sermons. if any of them when they come to me shall not have learned the catechism, i will take care that they do it, and will give them a reward when they have accomplished it. th. i will be very inquisitive and solicitous about the company chosen by my servants; and with all possible earnestness will rescue them from the snares of evil company, and forbid their being the companions of fools. th. such of my servants as may be capable of the task, i will employ to teach lessons of piety to my children, and will recompense them for so doing. but i would, by a particular artifice, contrive them to be such lessons, as may be for their own edification too. th. i will sometimes call my servants alone; talk to them about the state of their souls; tell them to close with their only servant, charge them to do well and "lay hold on eternal life," and show them very particularly how they may render all they do for me a service to the glorious lord; how they may do all from a principle of obedience to him, and become entitled to the "reward of the heavenly inheritance." to those resolutions did i add the following pages as an appendix: age is nearly sufficient, with some masters to obliterate every letter and action in the history of a meritorious life, and old services are generally buried under the ruins of an old carcase. it is a barbarous inhumanity in men towards their servants, to account their small failings as crimes, without allowing their past services to have been virtues; gracious god, keep thy servants from such base ingratitude! but then o servants, if you would obtain "the reward of inheritance," each of you should set yourself to enquire "how shall i approve myself such a servant, that the lord may bless the house of my master, the more for my being in it?" certainly there are many ways by which servants may become blessings. let your studies with your continual prayers for the welfare of the family to which you belong: and the example of your sober carriage render you such. if you will but remember four words and attempt all that is comprised in them, obedience, honesty, industry, and piety, you will be the blessings and josephs of the families in which you live. let these four words be distinctly and frequently recollected; and cheerfully perform all your business from this consideration--that it is obedience to heaven, and from thence will leave a recompense. it was the observation even of a pagan, "that a master may receive a benefit from a servant"; and "what is done with the affection of a friend, ceases to be the act of a mere servant." even the maid-servants of a house may render a great service to it, by instructing the infants and instilling into their minds the lessons of goodness.--in the appendix of rev. thomas bacon's _sermons addressed to masters and servants_. edit du roi concernant les esclaves négres des colonies, qui seront amenés, ou envoyés en france. donné à paris au mois d'octobre . i. nous avons connu la nécessité qu'il y a d'y soutenir l'exécution de l'édit du mars , qui en maintenant la discipline de l'eglise catholique, apostolique et romaine, pourvoit à ce qui concerne l'état et la qualité des esclaves nègres, qu'on entretient dans lesdites colonies pour la culture des terres; et comme nous avons été informés que plusieurs habitans de nos isles de l'amérique désirent envoyer en france quelques-uns de leur esclaves pour les confirmer dans les instructions et dans les exercices de notre religion, et pour leur faire apprendre en même tems quelque art et métier dont les colonies recevroient beaucoup d'utilité par le retour de ces esclaves; mais que les habitans craignaient que les esclaves ne pretendent être libres en arrivant en france, ce qui pourroit causer auxdits habitans une perte considérable, et les détourner d'un objet aussi pieux et aussi utile. * * * * * ii. si quelques-uns des habitans de nos colonies, ou officiers employés sur l'etat desdites colonies, veulent amener en france avec eux des esclaves nègres, de l'un & de l'autre sexe, en qualité de domestique ou autrement pour les fortifier davantage dans notre religion, tant par les instructions qu'ils recevront, que par l'exemple de nos autre sujets, et pour leur faire apprendre en même tems quelque art et métier, dont les colonies puissent retirer de l'utilité, par le retour de ces esclaves, lesdits propriétaires seront tenus d'en obtenir la permission des gouverneurs généraux, ou commandans dans chaque isle, laquelle permission contiendra le nom du propriétaire, celui des esclaves, leur age & leur signalement.--code noir ou recueil d'édits, declarations, et arrêts concernant des esclaves nègres discipline el le commerce des esclaves nègres des isles françaises de l'amérique (in recueil de règlemens, edits, declarations, et arrêts concernant le commerce, l'administration de la justice et la police des colonies françaises de l'amérique et les engages avec le code noir et l'addition audit code) (jefferson's copy). a paris chez les libraires associés, . a proposition for encouraging the christian education of indian, negro, and mulatto children at lambeth, virginia, "it being a duty of christianity very much neglected by masters and mistresses of this country (america) to endeavor the good instruction and education of their heathen slaves in the christian faith,--the said duty being likewise earnestly recommended by his majesty's instructions,--for the facilitating thereof among the young slaves that are born among us; it is, therefore, humbly proposed that every indian, negro, or mulatto child that shall be baptized and afterward brought to church and publicly catechized by the minister in church, and shall, before the fourteenth year of his or her age, give a distinct account of the creed, the lord's prayer and ten commandments, and whose master or mistress shall receive a certificate from the minister that he or she hath so done, such indian, negro or mulatto child shall be exempted from paying all levies till the age of eighteen years."--bishop william meade's _old churches, ministers, and families of virginia_, vol. i., p. . pastoral letter of bishop gibson of london to the masters and mistresses of families in the english plantations abroad; exhorting them to encourage and promote the instruction of their negroes in the christian faith. (about .) the care of the plantations abroad being committed to the bishop of london as to religious affairs; i have thought it my duty to make particular inquiries into the state of religion in those parts, and to learn among other things, what numbers of slaves are employed within the several governments, and what means are used for their instruction in the christian faith: i find the numbers are prodigiously great; and am not a little troubled to observe how small a progress has been made in a christian country, towards the delivering those poor creatures from the pagan darkness and superstition in which they were bred, and the making them partakers in the light of the gospel, and the blessings and benefits belonging to it. and what is yet more to be lamented, i find there has not only been very little progress made in the work but that all attempts toward it have been by too many industriously discouraged and hindered; partly by magnifying the difficulties of the work beyond what they really are; and partly by mistaken suggestions of the change which baptism would make in the condition of the negroes, to the loss and disadvantage of their masters. as to the difficulties; it may be pleaded, that the negroes are grown persons when they come over, and that having been accustomed to the pagan rites and idolatries of their own country, they are prejudiced against all other religions, and more particularly against the christian, as forbidding all that licentiousness which is usually practiced among the heathens.... but a farther difficulty is that they are utter strangers to our language, and we to theirs; and the gift of tongues being now ceased, there is no means left of instructing them in the doctrines of the christian religion. and this, i own is a real difficulty, as long as it continues, and as far as it reaches. but, if i am rightly informed, many of the negroes, who are grown persons when they come over, do of themselves obtain so much of our language, as enables them to understand, and to be understood, in things which concern the ordinary business of life, and they who can go so far of their own accord, might doubtless be carried much farther, if proper methods and endeavors were used to bring them to a competent knowledge of our language, with a pious view to instructing them in the doctrines of our religion. at least, some of them, who are more capable and more serious than the rest, might be easily instructed both in our language and religion, and then be made use of to convey instruction to the rest in their own language. and this, one would hope, may be done with great ease, wherever there is a hearty and sincere zeal of the work. but what difficulties there may be in instructing those who are grown-up before they are brought over; there are not the like difficulties in the case of their children, who are born and bred in our plantations, who have never been accustomed to pagan rites and superstitions, and who may easily be trained up, like all other children, to any language whatsoever, and particularly to our own; if the making them good christians be sincerely the desire and intention of those, who have property in them, and government over them.--dalcho's _an historical account of the protestant episcopal church in south carolina_, pp. - . another pastoral letter of bishop gibson of london to the missionaries in the english plantations (about ). dear brother, having understood by many letters from the plantations, and by the accounts of persons who have come from thence, that very little progress hath hitherto been made in the conversion of the negroes to the christian faith; i have thought it proper for me to lay before masters and mistresses the obligations they are under, and to promote and encourage that pious and necessary work.... as to those ministers who have negroes of their own; i cannot but esteem it their indispensable duty to use their best endeavors to instruct them in the christian religion, in order to their being baptised; both because such negroes are their proper and immediate care, and because it is in vain to hope that other masters and mistresses will exert themselves in this work, if they see it wholly neglected, or but coldly pursued, in the families of the clergy ... i would also hope that the schoolmasters in the several parishes, part of whose business it is to instruct youth in the principles of christianity, might contribute somewhat towards the carrying on of this work; by being ready to bestow upon it some of their leisure time, and especially on the lord's day, when both they and the negroes are most at liberty and the clergy are taken up with the public duties of their function.--dalcho's _an historical account of the protestant episcopal account of the protestant episcopal church in south carolina_, pages - . an extract from a sermon preached by bishop secker of london in "the next object of the society's concern, were the poor negroes. these unhappy wretches learn in their native country, the grossest idolatry, and the most savage dispositions: and then are sold to the best purchaser: sometimes by their enemies, who would else put them to death; sometimes by the nearest friends, who are either unable or unwilling to maintain them. their condition in our colonies, though it cannot well be worse than it would have been at home, is yet nearly as hard as possible: their servitude most laborious, their punishments most severe. and thus many thousands of them spend their whole days, one generation after another, undergoing with reluctant minds continual toil in this world, and comforted with no hopes of reward in a better. for it is not to be expected that masters, too commonly negligent of christianity themselves, will take much pains to teach it their slaves; whom even the better part of them are in a great measure habituated to consider, as they do their cattle, merely with a view to the profit arising from them. not a few, therefore, have openly opposed their instruction, from an imagination now indeed proved and acknowledged to be groundless, that baptism would entitle them to freedom. others by obliging them to work on sundays to provide themselves necessaries, leave them neither time to learn religion, nor any prospect of being able to subsist, if once the duty of resting on that day become part of their belief. and some, it may be feared, have been averse to their becoming christians because after that, no pretence will remain for not treating them like men. when these obstacles are added to the fondness they have for their old heathenish rites, and the strong prejudices they must have against teachers from among those, whom they serve so unwillingly; it cannot be wondered, if the progress made in their conversion prove slow. after some experience of this kind, catechists were appointed in two places, by way of trial for their instruction alone: whose success, where it was least, hath been considerable; and so great in the plantation belonging to the society that out of two hundred and thirty, at least seventy are now believers in christ. and there is lately an improvement to this scheme begun to be executed, by qualifying and employing young negroes, prudently chosen, to teach their countrymen: from which in the opinion of the best judges, we may reasonably promise ourselves, that this miserable people, the generality of whom have hitherto sat in darkness, will see great light."--seeker's _a sermon preached before the incorporated society for the propagation of the gospel in foreign parts_, . extracts from the sermons of rev. thomas bacon addressed to masters and servants about "next to our children and brethren by blood, our servants, and especially our slaves, are certainly in the nearest relation to us. they are an immediate and necessary part of our households, by whose labors and assistance we are enabled to enjoy the gifts of providence in ease and plenty; and surely we owe them a return of what is just and equal for the drudgery and hardships they go through in our service.... "it is objected, they are such stubborn creatures, there is no dealing with them. "_answer_. supposing this to be true of most of them (which i believe will scarcely be insisted on:) may it not fairly be asked, whence doth this stubbornness proceed?--is it from nature?--that cannot be:--for i think it is generally acknowledged that _new negroes_, or those born in and imported from the coast of _guinea_, prove the best and most tractable servants. is it then from education?--for one or the other it must proceed from.--but pray who had the care of bringing up those that were born here?--was it not ourselves?--and might not an early care, of instilling good principles into them when young, have prevented much of that stubbornness and untractableness you complain of in country-born negroes?--these, you cry out, are wickeder than the others:--and, pray, where did they learn that wickedness?--was it not among ourselves?--for those who come immediately from their own country, you say, have more simplicity and honesty. a sad reproach to a christian people indeed! that such poor ignorant heathens shall bring better morals and dispositions from home with them, that they can learn or actually do contract amongst us! * * * * * "it is objected,--they are so ignorant and unteachable, they cannot be brought to any knowledge in these matters. "_answer_. this objection seems to have little or no truth in it, with respect to the bulk of them.--their ignorance, indeed, about matters of religion, is not to be disputed;--they are sunk in it to a sad and lamentable degree, which has been shown to be chiefly owing to the negligence of their owners.--but that they are so stupid and unteachable, as that they cannot be brought to any competent knowledge in these matters, is false, and contrary to fact and experience. in regard to their work, they learn it, and grow dexterous enough in a short time. many of them have learned trades and manufactures, which they perform well, and with sufficient ingenuity:--whence it is plain they are not unteachable; do not want natural parts and capacities.--most masters and mistresses will complain of their art and cunning in contriving to deceive them.--is it reasonable to deny then they can learn what is good, when it is owned at the same time they can be so artful in what is bad?--their ignorance, therefore, if born in the country, must absolutely be the fault of their owners:--and such as are brought here from africa may, surely, be taught something of advantage to their own future state, as well as to work for their masters' present gain.--the difference plainly consists in this;--that a good deal of pains is taken to shew them how to labour, and they are punished if they neglect it.--this sort of instruction their owners take care to give them every day, and look well to it that it be duly followed.--but no such pains are taken in the other case.--they are generally left to themselves, whether they will serve god, or worship devils--whether they become christians, or remain heathens as long as they live: as if either their souls were not worth the saving, or as if we were under no obligation of giving them any instruction:--which is the true reason why so many of them who are grown up, and lived many years among us, are as entirely ignorant of the principles of religion, as if they had never come into a christian country:--at least, as to any good or practical purposes. * * * * * "i have dwelt the longer upon this head, because it is of the utmost importance, and seems to be but little considered among us.--for there is too much reason to fear, that the many vices and immoralities so common among white people;--the lewdness, drunkenness, quarrelling, abusiveness, swearing, lying, pride, backbiting, overreaching, idleness, and sabbath-breaking, everywhere to be seen among us, are a great encouragement to our negroes to do the like, and help strongly to confirm them in the habits of wickedness and impiety. "we ought not only to avoid giving them bad examples, and abstain from all appearance of evil, but also strive to set a daily good example before their eyes, that seeing us lead the way in our own person, they may more readily be persuaded to follow us in the wholesome paths of religion and virtue. * * * * * "we ought to make this reading and studying the holy scriptures, and the reading and explaining them to our children and slaves, and the catechizing or instructing them in the principles of the christian religion, a stated duty. * * * * * "we ought in a particular manner to take care of the children, and instil early principles of piety and religion into their minds. "if the grown up slaves, from confirmed habits of vice, are hard to be reclaimed, the children surely are in our power, and may be trained up in the way they should go, with rational hopes that when they are old, they will not depart from it.--we ought, therefore, to take charge of their education principally upon ourselves, and not leave them entirely to the care of their wicked parents.--if the present generation be bad, we may hope by this means that the succeeding ones will be much better. one child well instructed, will take care when grown up to instruct his children; and they again will teach their posterity good things.--and i am fully of opinion, that the common notion of _wickedness running in the blood_, is not so general in fact as to be admitted for an axiom. and that the vices we see descending from parents to their children are chiefly owing to the malignant influence of bad example and conversation.--and though some persons may be, and undoubtedly are, born with stronger passions and appetites, or with a greater propensity to some particular gratifications or pursuits than others, yet we do not want convincing instances how effectually they may be restrained, or at least corrected and turned to proper and laudable ends, by the force of an early care, and a suitable education. "to you of the female sex, (whom i have had occasion more than once to take notice of with honor in this congregation) i would address a few words on this head.--you, who by your stations are more confined at home, and have the care of the younger sort more particularly under your management, may do a great deal of good in this way.--i know not when i have been more affected, or my heart touched with stronger and more pleasing emotions, than at the sight and conversation of a little negro boy, not above seven years old, who read to me in the new testament, and perfectly repeated his catechism throughout, and all from the instruction of his careful, pious mistress, now i hope with god, enjoying the blessed fruits of her labours while on earth.--this example i would recommend to your serious imitation, and to enforce it shall only remark, that a shining part of the character of solomon's excellent daughter is, that she looketh well to the ways of her household."--rev. thomas bacon's _sermons addressed to masters and servants_, pp. , , , , , , , , , . portions of benjamin fawcett's address to the christian negroes in virginia about "rejoice and be exceeding glad, that you are delivered either from the frauds of mohamet, or pagan darkness, and worship of daemons; and are not now taught to place your dependence upon those other dead men, whom the papists impiously worship, to the neglect and dishonor of jesus christ, the one only mediator between god and men. christ, tho' he was dead, is alive again, and liveth forever-more. it is christ, who is able also to save them to the uttermost, that come unto god by him, seeing he ever liveth to make intercession for them. bless god, with all your heart, that the holy scriptures are put into your hands, which are able to make you wise unto salvation, thro' faith which is in christ jesus. read and study the bible for yourselves; and consider how papists do all they can to hide it from their followers, for fear such divine light should discover the gross darkness of their false doctrines and worship. be particularly thankful to the ministers of christ around you, who are faithfully labouring to teach you the truth as it is in jesus.... "contrary to these evident truths and precious comforts of the word of god, you may perhaps be tempted very unjustly to renounce your fidelity and obedience to your old masters, in hope of finding new ones, with whom you may live more happily. at one time or other it will probably be suggested to you, that the french will make better masters than the english. but i beseech you to consider, that your happiness as men and christians exceedingly depends upon your doing all in your power to support the british government, and that kind of christianity which is called the protestant religion; and likewise in opposing, with all your might, the power of the french, the delusions of popish priests, and all the rage and malice of such indians, as are in the french interest. if the power of france was to prevail in the country where you now live, you have nothing to expect but the most terrible increase of your sufferings. your slavery would then, not merely extend to body, but also to the soul; not merely run thro' your days of labour, but even thro' your lord's days. your bibles would then become like a sealed book, and your consciences would be fettered with worse than iron-chains. therefore be patient, be submissive and obedient, be faithful and true, even when some of your masters are most unkind. this is the only way for you to have consciences void of offense towards god and man. this will really be taking the most effectual measures, to secure for yourselves a share in the invaluable blessings and privileges of the glorious gospel of the blessed god, which you have already received thro' the channel of the british government, and which no other government upon the face of the earth is so calculated to support and preserve. "the lord jesus christ is now saying to you, as he did to peter, when thou art converted strengthen thy brethren.... "therefore let me entreat you to look upon your country-men around you, and pity them, not so much for their being fellow-captives with you in a strange land; as for this, that they are not yet, like you, delivered from the power of darkness.... "invite them to learn to read, and direct them where they may apply for assistance, especially to those faithful ministers, who have been your instructors and fathers in christ...."--fawcett's _address to the negroes in virginia_, etc., pp. , , , , . extract from the appendix of benjamin fawcett's "address to the christian negroes in virginia" "the first account, i ever met with, of any considerable number of negroes embracing the gospel, is in a letter written by mr. davies, minister at hanover in virginia, to mr. bellamy of bethlehem in new england, dated june , . it appears that the letter was designed for publication; and i suppose, was accordingly printed at boston in new england. it is to be seen in vol. ii., pages - , of the _historical collections_ relating to remarkable periods of the success of the gospel, and eminent instruments employed in promoting it; compiled by mr. john gillies, one of the ministers of glasgow: printed by foulis in . mr. davies fills the greatest part of his letter, with an account of the declining state of religion in virginia, and the remarkable means used by providence to revive it, for a few years before his settlement there, which was in ; not in the character of a missionary, but that of a dissenting minister, invited by a particular people, and fixed with them. such, he observes, was the scattered state of his congregation, that he soon found it necessary to license seven meeting-houses, the nearest of which are twelve or fifteen miles distant from each other, and the extremes about forty; yet some of his people live twenty, thirty, and a few forty miles from the nearest meeting-house. he computes his communicants at about three hundred. he then says, 'there is also a number of negroes. some times i see a hundred and more among my hearers. i have baptized about forty of them within the last three years, upon such a profession of faith as i then judged credible. some of them, i fear, have apostatized; but others, i trust, will persevere to the end. i have had as satisfying evidences of the sincere piety of several of them, as ever i had from any person in my life; and their artless simplicity, their passionate aspirations after christ, their incessant endeavors to know and do the will of god, have charmed me. but, alas! while my charge is so extensive, i cannot take sufficient pains with them for their instruction, which often oppresses my heart....'" at the close of the above letter, in the _historical collections_ (vol. ii., page ), there is added the following marginal note.--"may , . mr. g. tennent and mr. davies being at edinburgh, as agents for the trustees of the college of new jersey, mr. davies informs,--that when he left virginia in august last, there was a hopeful appearance of a greater spread of a religious concern amongst the negroes;--and a few weeks before he left home, he baptized in one day fifteen negroes, after they had been catechized for some months, and given credible evidences of their sincerely embracing the gospel." after these gentlemen had finished the business of their late mission in this part of the world, mr. davies gave the following particulars to his correspondent in london, in a letter which he wrote in the spring of the previous year, six weeks after his safe return to his family and friends.--"the inhabitants of virginia are computed to be about , men, the one-half of which number are supposed to be negroes. the number of those who attend my ministry at particular times is uncertain, but generally about three hundred who give a stated attendance. and never have i been so much struck with the appearance of an assembly, as when i have glanced my eye to that part of the meeting-house, where they usually sit; adorned, for so it had appeared to me, with so many black countenances, eagerly attentive to every word they hear, and frequently bathed in tears. a considerable number of them, about a hundred, have been baptized, after the proper time for instruction, and having given credible evidences, not only of their acquaintance with the important doctrines of the christian religion, but also a deep sense of them upon their minds, attested by a life of the strictest piety and holiness. as they are not sufficiently polished to dissemble with a good grace, they express the sentiments of their souls so much in the language of simple nature, and with such genuine indications of sincerity, that it is impossible to suspect their professions, especially when attended with a truly christian life and exemplary conduct.--my worthy friend, mr. tod, minister of the next congregation, has near the same number under his instructions, who, he tells me, discover the same serious turn of mind. in short, sir, there are multitudes of them in different places, who are willing, and eagerly desirous to be instructed, and embrace every opportunity of acquainting themselves with the doctrines of the gospel; and tho' they have generally very little help to learn to read, yet, to my agreeable surprise, many of them, by the dint of application in their leisure-hours, have made such a progress, that they can intelligibly read a plain author, and especially their bibles; and pity it is that many of them should be without them. before i had the pleasure of being admitted a member of your society [mr. davies here means the society for promoting religious knowledge among the poor, which was first begun in london in august, ] the negroes were wont frequently to come to me, with such moving accounts of their necessities in this respect, that i could not help supplying them with books to the utmost of my small ability; and when i distributed those among them, which my friends with you sent over, i had reason to think that i never did an action in all my life, that met with so much gratitude from the receivers. i have already distributed all the books i brought over, which were proper for them. yet still, on saturday evenings, the only time they can spare [they are allowed some short time, viz., saturday afternoon, and sunday, says dr. douglass in his summary. see the _monthly review_ for october, , page ] my house is crowded with numbers of them, whose very countenances still carry the air of importunate petitioners for the same favors with those who came before them. but, alas! my stock is exhausted, and i must send them away grieved and disappointed.--permit me, sir, to be an advocate with you, and, by your means, with your generous friends in their behalf. the books i principally want for them are, watts' psalms and hymns, and bibles. the two first they cannot be supplied with any other way than by a collection, as they are not among the books which your society give away. i am the rather importunate for a good number of these, and i cannot but observe, that the negroes, above all the human species that i ever knew, have an ear for musick, and a kind of extatic delight in psalmody; and there are no books they learn so soon, or take so much pleasure in as those used in that heavenly part of divine worship. some gentlemen in london were pleased to make me a private present of these books for their use, and from the reception they met with, and their eagerness for more, i can easily foresee, how acceptable and useful a larger number would be among them. indeed, nothing would be a greater inducement to their industry to learn to read, than the hope of such a present; which they would consider, both as a help, and a reward for their diligence"....--_fawcett's address to the christian negroes in virginia_, etc., pp. . . . , . . extract from jonathan boucher's "a view of the causes and consequences of the american revolution"( ) "if ever these colonies, now filled with slaves, be improved to their utmost capacity, an essential part of the improvement must be the abolition of slavery. such a change would be hardly more to the advantage of the slaves than it would be to their owners.... "i do you no more than justice in bearing witness, that in no part of the world were slaves better treated than, in general, they are in the colonies.... in one essential point, i fear, we are all deficient; they are nowhere sufficiently instructed. i am far from recommending it to you, at once to set them free; because to do so would be an heavy loss to you, and probably no gain to them; but i do entreat you to make them some amends for the drudgery of their bodies by cultivating their minds. by such means only can we hope to fulfil the ends, which we may be permitted to believe, providence had in view in suffering them to be brought among us. you may unfetter them from the chains of ignorance; you may emancipate them from the bondage of sin, the worst slavery to which they can be subjected; and by thus setting at liberty those that are bruised, though they still continue to be your slaves, they shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of god."--jonathan boucher's _a view of the causes and consequences_, etc., pp. , , . boucher on american education in "you pay far too little regard to parental education.... "what is still less credible is that at least two-thirds of the little education we receive is derived from instructors who are either indented servants or transported felons. not a ship arrives either with redemptioners or convicts, in which schoolmasters are not as regularly advertised for sale as weavers, tailors, or any other trade; with little other difference, that i can hear of, excepting perhaps that the former do not usually fetch so good a price as the latter.... "i own, however, that i dislike slavery and among other reasons because as it is here conducted it has pernicious effects on the social state, by being unfavorable to education. it certainly is no necessary circumstance, essential to the condition of a slave, that he be uneducated; yet this is the general and almost universal lot of the slaves. such extreme, deliberate, and systematic inattention to all mental improvement, in so large portion of our species, gives far too much countenance and encouragement to those abject persons who are contented to be rude and ignorant."--jonathan boucher's _a view of the causes and consequences of the american revolution_, pp. , , . a portion of an essay of bishop porteus toward a plan for the more effectual civilization and conversion of the negro slaves on the trent estate in barbadoes belonging to the society for the propagation of the gospel in foreign parts. (written in ) "we are expressly commanded to preach the gospel to every creature; and therefore every human creature must necessarily be capable of receiving it. it may be true, perhaps, that the generality of the negro slaves are extremely dull of apprehension, and slow of understanding; but it may be doubted whether they are more so than some of the lowest classes of our own people; at least they are certainly not inferior in capacity to the greenlanders, many of whom have made very sincere christians. several travellers of good credit speak in very favorable terms, both of the understandings and dispositions of the native africans on the coast of guinea; and it is a well-known fact, that many even of the negro slaves in our islands, although laboring under disadvantages and discouragements, that might well depress and stupefy even the best understandings, yet give sufficient proofs of the great quickness of parts and facility in learning. they have, in particular, a natural turn to the mechanical arts, in which several of them show much ingenuity, and arrive at no small degree of perfection. some have discovered marks of genius for music, poetry, and other liberal accomplishments; and there are not wanting instances among them of a strength of understanding, and a generosity, dignity, and heroism of mind, which would have done honour to the most cultivated european. it is not, therefore, to any natural or unconquerable disability in the subject we had to work upon, that the little success of our efforts is to be ascribed. this would indeed be an insuperable obstacle, and must put an effectual stop to all future attempts of the same nature; but as this is far from being the case, we must look for other causes of our disappointment; which may perhaps appear to be, though of a serious, yet less formidable nature, and such as it is in the power of human industry and perseverance, with the blessing of providence, to remove. the principal of them, it is conceived, are these which here follow: . "although several of our ministers and catechists in the college of barbadoes have been men of great worth and piety, and good intentions, yet in general they do not appear (if we may judge from their letters to the board) to have possessed that peculiar sort of talents and qualifications, that facility and address in conveying religious truths, that unconquerable activity, patience, and perseverance, which the instruction of dull and uncultivated minds requires, and which we sometimes see so eminently and successfully displayed in the missionaries of other churches. "and indeed the task of instructing and converting near three hundred negro slaves, and of educating their children in the principles of morality and religion, is too laborious for any one person to execute well; especially when the stipend is too small to animate his industry, and excite his zeal. . "there seems also to have been a want of other modes of instruction, and of other books and tracts for that purpose, besides those made use of hitherto by our catechists. and there is reason moreover to believe, that the time allotted to the instruction of the negroes has not been sufficient. . "another impediment to the progress of our slaves in christian knowledge has been their too frequent intercourse with the negroes of the neighboring plantations, and the accession of fresh slaves to our own, either hired from other estates, or imported from africa. these are so many constant temptations in their way to revert to their former heathenish principles and savage manners, to which they have always a strong natural propensity; and when this propensity is continually inflamed by the solicitations of their unconverted brethren, or the arrival of new companions from the coast of guinea, it frequently becomes very difficult to be resisted, and counteracts, in a great degree, all the influence and exhortations of their religious teachers. . "although this society has been always most honourably distinguished by the gentleness with which the negroes belonging to its trust estates have been generally treated, yet even these (by the confession of our missionaries) are in too abject, and depressed, and uncivilized a state to be proper subjects for the reception of the divine truths of revelation. they stand in need of some further marks of the society's regard and tenderness for them, to conciliate their affections, to invigorate their minds, to encourage their hopes, and to rouse them out of that state of languor and indolence and insensibility, which renders them indifferent and careless both about this world and the next. . "a still further obstacle to the effectual conversion of the negroes has been the almost unrestrained licentiousness of their manner, the habits of vice and dissoluteness in which they are permitted to live, and the sad examples they too frequently see in their managers and overseers. it can never be expected that people given up to such practices as these, can be much disposed to receive a pure and undefiled religion: or that, if after their conversion they are allowed, as they generally are, to retain their former habits, their christianity can be anything more than a mere name. "these probably the society will, on inquiry, find to have been the principal causes of the little success they have hitherto had in their pious endeavors to render their own slaves real christians. and it is with a view principally to the removal of these obstacles that the following regulations are, with all due deference to better judgments, submitted to their consideration. "the first and most essential step towards a real and effectual conversion of our negroes would be the appointment of a missionary (in addition to the present catechist) properly qualified for that important and difficult undertaking. he should be a clergyman sought out for in this country, of approved ability, piety, humanity, industry, and a fervent, yet prudent zeal for the interests of religion, and the salvation of those committed to his care; and should have a stipend not less than f. sterling a year if he has an apartment and is maintained in the college, or f. a year if he is not. "this clergyman might be called (for a reason to be hereafter assigned) 'the guardian of the negroes'; and his province should be to superintend the moral and spiritual concern of the slaves, to take upon himself the religious instruction of the adult negroes, and to take particular care that all the negro children are taught to read by the catechist and the two assistant women (now employed by the society) and also that they are diligently instructed by the catechist in the principles of the christian religion, till they are fifteen years of age, when they shall be instructed by himself with the adult negroes. "this instruction of the negro children from their earliest years is one of the most important and essential parts of the whole plan; for it is to the education of the young negroes that we are principally to look for the success of our spiritual labours. these may be easily taught to understand and to speak the english language with fluency; these may be brought up from their earliest youth in habits of virtue, and restrained from all licentious indulgences: these may have the principles and the precepts of religion impressed so early upon their tender minds as to sink deep, and to take firm root, and bring forth the fruits of a truly christian life. to this great object, therefore, must our chief attention be directed; and as almost everything must depend on the ability, the integrity, the assiduity, the perseverance of the person to whom we commit so important a charge, it is impossible for us to be too careful and too circumspect in our choice of a catechist. he must consider it his province, not merely to teach the negroes the use of letters, but the elements of christianity; not only to improve their understandings, but to form their hearts. for this purpose they must be put into his hands the moment they are capable of articulating their words, and their instruction must be pursued with unrelenting diligence. so long as they continue too young to work, they may be kept constantly in the school; as they grow fit to labour, their attendance on the catechist must gradually lessen, till at length they take their full share of work with the grown negroes. "a school of this nature was formerly established by the society of charlestown in south carolina, about the year , under the direction of mr. garden, the bishop of london's commissary in that province. this school flourished greatly, and seemed to answer their utmost wishes. there were at one time sixty scholars in it, and twenty young negroes were annually sent out from it well instructed in the english language, and the christian faith. mr. garden, in his letters to the society, speaks in the highest terms of the progress made by his scholars, and says, that the negroes themselves were highly pleased with their own acquirements. but it is supposed that on a parochial establishment being made in charlestown by government, this excellent institution was dropt; for after the year , no further mention is made of it in the minutes of the society. from what little we know of it, however, we may justly conceive the most pleasing hopes from a similar foundation at barbadoes."--_the works of bishop porteus_, vi., pp., - . extract from "the acts of dr. bray's visitation held at annapolis in maryland, may , , , anno " _words of dr. bray_ "i think, my reverend brethren, that we are now gone through such measures as may be necessary to be considered for the more universal as well as successful catechising, and instruction of youth. and i heartily thank you for your so ready concurrence in every thing that i have offered to you: and which, i hope, will appear no less in the execution, than it has been to the proposals. "and that proper books may not be wanting for the several classes of catechumens, there is care taken for the several sorts, which may be all had in this town. and it may be necessary to acquaint you, that for the poor children and servants, they shall be given gratis."--hawks's _ecclesiastical history of the united states_, vol. ii., pp. - . extracts from the minutes of the meetings of the society of friends.... from the minutes of the yearly meeting of the friends of pennsylvania and new jersey, "and having grounds to conclude that there are some brethren who have these poor captives under their care, and are desirous to be wisely directed in the restoring them to liberty: friends who may be appointed by quarterly and monthly meetings on the service now proposed, are earnestly desired to give their weighty and solid attention for the assistance of such who are thus honestly and religiously concerned for their own relief, and the essential benefit of the negro. and in such families where there are young ones, or others of suitable age, that they excite the masters, or those who have them, to give them sufficient instruction and learning, in order to qualify them for the enjoyment of liberty intended, and that they may be instructed by themselves, or placed out to such masters and mistresses who will be careful of their religious education, to serve for such time, and no longer, as is prescribed by law and custom, for white people."--_a brief statement of the rise and progress of the testimony of the religious society of friends against slavery and the slave trade_. published by direction of the yearly meeting, held in philadelphia, in the fourth month, , p. . from the minutes of the yearly meeting of the friends of philadelphia and new jersey, "a tender christian sympathy appears to be awakened in the minds of many who are not in religious profession with us, who have seriously considered the oppressions and disadvantages under which those people have long laboured; and whether a pious care extended to their offspring is not justly due from us to them, is a consideration worthy of our serious and deep attention; or if this obligation did not weightily lay upon us, can benevolent minds be directed to any object more worthy of their liberality and encouragement, than that of laving a foundation in the rising generation for their becoming good and useful men? remembering what was formerly enjoined, 'if thy brethren be waxen poor, and fallen in decay with thee, then thou shalt relieve him; yea, though he be a stranger, or a sojourner; that he may live with thee.'"--_ibid_., p. . from the minutes of the quarterly meeting of the friends of chester "the consideration of the temporal and spiritual welfare of the africans, and the necessary instruction of their offspring now being resumed, and after some time spent thereon, it is closely recommended to our several monthly meetings to pay due attention to the advice of the yearly meeting on this subject, and proceed as strength may be afforded, in looking after them in their several habitations by a religious visit; giving them such counsel as their situation may require."--_ibid_., p. . from the minutes of the haddonfield quarterly meeting "in haddonfield quarterly meeting, a committee was kept steadily under appointment for several years to assist in manumissions, and in the education of the negro children. religious meetings were frequently held for the people of color; and haddonfield monthly meeting raised on one occasion pounds, for the education of negro children. "in salem monthly meeting, frequent meetings of worship for the people of color were held by direction of the monthly meeting; funds were raised for the education of their children, and committees appointed in the different meetings to provide books, place the children at school, to visit the schools, and inspect their conduct and improvement. "meetings for divine worship were regularly held for people of color, at least once in three months, under the direction of the monthly meetings of friends in philadelphia; and schools were also established at which their children were gratuitously instructed in useful learning. one of these, originally instituted by anthony benezet, is now in operation in the city of philadelphia, and has been continued under the care of one of the monthly meetings of friends of that city, and supported by funds derived from voluntary contributions of the members, and from legacies and bequests, yielding an income of about $ per annum. the average number of pupils is about sixty-eight of both sexes."--_ibid_., pp. - . from the minutes of the rhode island quarterly meeting of the friends, a committee reported "that having met, and entered into a solemn consideration of the subject, they were of the mind that a useful alteration might be made in the query referred to; yet apprehending some further christian endeavors in labouring with such who continue in possession of slaves should be first promoted, by which means the eyes of friends may be more clearly opened to behold the iniquity of the practice of detaining our fellow creatures in bondage, and a disposition to set such free who are arrived to mature age; and when the labour is performed and report made to the meeting, the meeting may be better capable of determining what further step to take in this affair, which hath given so much concern to faithful friends, and that in the meantime it should be enforced upon friends that have them in possession, to treat them with tenderness; impress god's fear on their minds; promote their attending places of religious worship; and give such as are young, so much learning, that they may be capable of reading. "are friends clear of importing, buying, or any ways disposing of negroes or slaves; and do they use those well who are under their care, and not in circumstances, through nonage or incapacity, to be set at liberty? and do they give those that are young such an education as becomes christians; and are the others encouraged in a religious and virtuous life? are all set at liberty that are of age, capacity, and ability suitable for freedom?"--_ibid_., pp. , . from the minutes of the yearly meeting of the friends of virginia in and "are friends clear of importing or buying negroes to trade on; and do they use those well which they are possessed of by inheritance or otherwise, endeavoring to train them in the principles of the christian religion?" the meeting of recommended to friends, "seriously to consider the circumstances of these poor people, and the obligation we are under to discharge our religious duties to them, which being disinterestedly pursued, will lead the professor to truth, to advise and assist them on all occasions, particularly in promoting their instruction in the principles of the christian religion, and the pious education of their children; also to advise them in their worldly concerns, as occasions offer; and it advised that friends of judgment and experience may be nominated for this necessary service, it being the solid sense of this meeting, that we, of the present generation, are under strong obligations to express our love and concern for the offspring of those people, who, by their labours, have greatly contributed toward the cultivation of these colonies, under the afflictive disadvantage of enduring a hard bondage; and many amongst us are enjoying the benefit of their toil."--_ibid._, pp. , , and . extract from the minutes of the methodist conference, "q. what directions shall we give for the promotion of the spiritual welfare of the colored people? "a. we conjure all our ministers and preachers, by the love of god and the salvation of souls, and do require them, by all the authority that is invested in us, to leave nothing undone for the spiritual benefit and salvation of them, within their respective circuits or districts; and for this purpose to embrace every opportunity of inquiring into the state of their souls, and to unite in society those who appear to have a real desire of fleeing from the wrath to come, to meet such a class, and to exercise the whole methodist discipline among them." "q. what can be done in order to instruct poor children, white and black to read? "a. let us labor, as the heart of one man, to establish sunday schools, in or near the place of public worship. let persons be appointed by the bishop, elders, deacons, or preachers, to teach gratis all that will attend or have the capacity to learn, from six o'clock in the morning till ten, and from two o'clock in the afternoon till six, where it does not interfere with public worship. the council shall compile a proper school book to teach them learning and piety."--rev. charles elliott's _history of the great secession front the methodist episcopal church_, etc., p. . a portion of an act of the general assembly of the presbyterian church in . the assembly recommended: " . the instruction of negroes, the poor and those who are destitute of the means of grace in various parts of this extensive country; whoever contemplates the situation of this numerous class of persons in the united states, their gross ignorance of the plainest principles of religion, their immorality and profaneness, their vices and dissoluteness of manners, must be filled with anxiety for their present welfare, and above all for their future and eternal happiness. " . the purchasing and disposing of bibles and also of books and short essays on the great principles of religion and morality, calculated to impress the minds of those to whom they are given with a sense of their duty both to god and man, and consequently of such a nature as to arrest the attention, interest the curiosity and touch the feelings of those to whom they are given."--_act and proceedings of the general assembly of the presbyterian church in the u.s.a. in the year _, philadelphia. an act of the general assembly of the presbyterian church in "the assembly resumed the consideration of the communication from the trustees of the general assembly and having gone through the same, thereupon resolved, " . that there be made a purchase of so many cheap and pious books as a due regard to the other objects of the assembly's funds will admit, with a view of distributing them not only among the frontiers of these states, but also among the poorer classes of people, and the blacks, or wherever it is thought useful; which books shall be given away, or lent, at the discretion of the distributor; and that there be received from mr. robert aitken, toward the discharge of his debt, books to such amount as shall appear proper to the trustees of the assembly, who are hereby requested to take proper measures for the distribution of same."--_act and proceedings of the general assembly of the presbyterian church in the u.s.a._ plan for improving the condition of the free blacks the business relative to free blacks shall be transacted by a committee of twenty-four persons, annually elected by ballot at a meeting of this society, in the month called april, and in order to perform the different services with expedition, regularity and energy this committee shall resolve itself into the following sub-committees, viz.: i. a committee of inspection, who shall superintend the morals, general conduct, and ordinary situation of the free negroes, and afford them advice and instruction, protection from wrongs, and other friendly offices. ii. a committee of guardians, who shall place out children and young people with suitable persons, that they may (during a moderate time of apprenticeship or servitude) learn some trade or other business of subsistence. the committee may effect this partly by a persuasive influence on parents and the persons concerned, and partly by coöperating with the laws, which are or may be enacted for this and similar purposes. in forming contracts of these occasions, the committee shall secure to the society as far as may be practicable the right of guardianship over the person so bound. iii. a committee of education, who shall superintend the school instruction of the children and youth of the free blacks. they may either influence them to attend regularly the schools already established in this city, or form others with this view; they shall, in either case, provide, that the pupils may receive such learning as is necessary for their future situation in life, and especially a deep impression of the most important and generally acknowledged moral and religious principles. they shall also procure and preserve a regular record of the marriages, births, and manumissions of all free blacks. iv. the committee of employ, who shall endeavor to procure constant employment for those free negroes who are able to work; as the want of this would occasion poverty, idleness, and many vicious habits. this committee will by sedulous inquiry be enabled to find common labor for a great number; they will also provide that such as indicate proper talents may learn various trades, which may be done by prevailing upon them to bind themselves for such a term of years as shall compensate their masters for the expense and trouble of instruction and maintenance. the committee may attempt the institution of some simple and useful manufactures which will require but little skill, and also may assist, in commencing business, such as appear to be qualified for it. whenever the committee of inspection shall find persons of any particular description requiring attention, they shall immediately direct them to the committee of whose care they are the proper objects. in matters of a mixed nature, the committee shall confer, and, if necessary, act in concert. affairs of great importance shall be referred to the whole committee. the expense incurred by the prosecution of this plan, shall be defrayed by a fund, to be formed by donations or subscriptions for these particular purposes, and to be kept separate from the other funds of the society. the committee shall make a report on their proceedings, and of the state of their stock, to the society, at their quarterly meetings, in the months called april and october.--smyth's _writings of benjamin franklin_, vol. x, p. . extract from the "address of the american convention of delegates from the abolition societies, " "we cannot forbear expressing to you our earnest desire, that you will continue, without ceasing, to endeavor, by every method in your power which can promise any success, to procure, either an absolute repeal of all the laws in your state, which countenance slavery, or such an amelioration of them as will gradually produce an entire abolition. yet, even should that great end be happily attained, it cannot put a period to the necessity of further labor. the education of the emancipated, the noblest and most arduous task which we have to perform, will require all our wisdom and virtue, and the constant exercise of the greatest skill and discretion. when we have broken his chains, and restored the african to the enjoyment of his rights, the great work of justice and benevolence is not accomplished--the new born citizen must receive that instruction, and those powerful impressions of moral and religious truths, which will render him capable and desirous of fulfilling the various duties he owes to himself and to his country. by educating some in the higher branches of science, and all the useful parts of learning, and in the precepts of religion and morality, we shall not only do away with the reproach and calumny so unjustly lavished upon us, but confound the enemies of truth, by evincing that the unhappy sons of africa, in spite of the degrading influence of slavery, are in no wise inferior to the more fortunate inhabitants of europe and america. "as a means of effectuating, in some degree, a design so virtuous and laudable, we recommend to you to appoint a committee, annually, or for any other more convenient period, to execute such plans, for the improvement of the condition and moral character of the free blacks in your state, as you may think best adapted to your particular situation."--_minutes of the proceedings of the second convention of delegates, ._ a portion of the "address of the american convention of delegates to the free africans and other free people of color, " "in the first place, we earnestly recommend to you, a regular attention to the duty of public worship; by which means you will evince gratitude to your creator, and, at the same time, promote knowledge, union, friendship, and proper conduct among yourselves. "secondly, we advise such of you, as have not been taught reading, writing, and the first principles of arithmetic, to acquire them as early as possible. carefully attend to the instruction of your children in the same simple and useful branches of education. cause them, likewise, early and frequently to read the holy scriptures. they contain, among other great discoveries, the precious record of the original equality of mankind, and of the obligations of universal justice and benevolence, which are derived from the relation of the human race to each other in a common father. "thirdly, teach your children useful trades, or to labor with their hands in cultivating the earth. these employments are favorable to health and virtue. in the choice of masters, who are to instruct them in the above branches of business, prefer those who will work with them; by this means they will acquire habits of industry, and be better preserved from vice, than if they worked alone, or under the eye of persons less interested in their welfare. in forming contracts for yourselves or children, with masters, it may be useful to consult such persons as are capable of giving you the best advice, who are known to be your friends, in order to prevent advantages being taken of your ignorance of the laws and customs of your country."_--minutes of the proceedings of the third convention of delegates, . american convention of abolition societies, minutes, - _ a portion of the address to the free people of color by the american convention for promoting the abolition of slavery, "the great work of emancipation is not to be accomplished in a day;--it must be the result of time, of long and continued exertions: it is for you to show by an orderly and worthy deportment that you are deserving of the rank which you have attained. endeavor as much as possible to use economy in your expenses, so that you may be enabled to save from your earnings, something for the education of your children, and for your support in time of sickness and in old age: and let all those who by attending to this admonition, have acquired the means, send their children to school as soon as they are old enough, where their morals will be the object of attention, as well as their improvement in school learning; and when they arrive at a suitable age, let it be your especial care to have them instructed in some mechanical art suited to their capacities, or in agricultural pursuits; by which they may afterwards be enabled to support themselves and a family. encourage also, those among you who are qualified as teachers of schools, and when you are of ability to pay, never send your children to free schools; this may be considered as robbing the poor, of the opportunities which were intended for them alone." the will of kosciuszko i, thaddeus kosciuszko, being just on my departure from america, do hereby declare and direct, that, should i make no other testamentary disposition of my property in the united states, i hereby authorize my friend, thomas jefferson, to employ the whole thereof in purchasing negroes from his own or any others, and giving them liberty in my name, in giving them an education in trade or otherwise, and in having them instructed for their new condition in the duties of morality, which may make them good neighbors, good fathers or mothers, husbands or wives in their duties as citizens, teaching them to be defenders of their liberty and country, and of the good order of society, and in whatsoever may make them happy and useful. and i make the said thomas jefferson my executor of this. (signed) t. kosciuszko. may , . [see _african repository_, vol. xi., p. .] from washington's will "upon the decease of my wife, it is my will and desire that all the slaves whom i now hold in my own right shall receive their freedom.... and whereas among those who will receive freedom according to this devise, there may be some who, from old age or bodily infirmities, and others who on account of their infancy will be unable to support themselves, it is my will and desire that all who come under the first and second description, shall be comfortably clothed and fed by my heirs while they live; and that such of the latter description as have no parents living, or if living are unable or unwilling to provide for them, shall be bound by the court until they shall arrive at the age of twenty-five years; and in cases where no record can be produced, whereby their ages can be ascertained, the judgement of court upon its own view of the subject shall be adequate and final. the negroes thus bound are (by their masters or mistresses) to be taught to read and write, and to be brought up to some useful occupation, agreeable to the laws of the commonwealth of virginia, providing for the support of orphan and other poor children."--benson j. lossing's _life of george washington_, vol. iii., p. . this interesting dialogue was written by an american about the following dialogue took place between mr. jackson the master of a family, and the slave of one of his neighbors who lived adjoining the town, on this occasion. mr. jackson was walking through the common and came to a field of this person's farm. he there saw the slave leaning against the fence with a book in his hand, which he seemed to be very intent upon; after a little time he closed the book, and clasping it in both his hands, looked upwards as if engaged in mental prayer; after this, he put the book in his bosom, and walked along the fence near where mr. jackson was standing. surprised at seeing a person of his color engaged with a book, and still more by the animation and delight that he observed in his countenance; he determines to enquire about it, and calls to him as he passes. _mr. j_. so i see you have been reading, my lad? _slave_. yes, sir. _mr. j_. well, i have a great curiosity to see what you were reading so earnestly; will you show me the book? _slave_. to be sure, sir. (and he presented it to him very respectfully.) _mr. j_. the bible!--pray when did you get this book? and who taught you to read it? _slave_. i thank god, sir, for the book. i do not know the good gentleman who gave it to me, but i am sure god sent it to me. i was learning to read in town at nights, and one morning a gentleman met me in the road as i had my spelling book open in my hand: he asked me if i could read, i told him a little, and he gave me this book and told me to make haste and learn to read it, and to ask god to help me, and that it would make me as happy as any body in the world. _mr. j_. well did you do so? _slave_. i thought about it for some time, and i wondered that any body should give me a book or care about me; and i wondered what that could be which could make a poor slave like me so happy; and so i thought more and more of it, and i said i would try and do as the gentleman bid me, and blessed be god! he told me nothing but the truth. _mr. j_. who is your master? _slave_. mr. wilkins, sir, who lives in that house. _mr. j_. i know him; he is a very good man; but what does he say to your leaving his work to read your book in the field? _slave_. i was not leaving his work, sir. this book does not teach me to neglect my master's work. i could not be happy if i did that.--i have done my breakfast, sir, and am waiting till the horses are done eating. _mr. j_. well, what does that book teach you? _slave_. oh, sir! every thing that i want to know--all i am to do, this book tells me, and so plain. it shew me first that i was a wretched, ruined sinner, and what would become of me if i died in that state, and then when i was day and night in dread of god's calling me to account for my wickedness, and did not know which way to look for my deliverance, reading over and over again those dreadful words, "depart from me ye cursed into everlasting fire," then it revealed to me how jesus christ had consented to come and suffer punishment for us in our stead, and bought pardon for us by his blood, and how by believing on him and serving him, i might become a child of god, so that i need be no more terrified by the thoughts of god's anger but sure of his forgiveness and love.... (here mr. j. pursued his walk; but soon reflecting on what he had heard, he resolved to walk by mr. wilkins's house and enquire into this affair from him. this he did, and finding him the following conversation took place between them.) _mr. j_. sir, i have been talking with a man of yours in that field, who was engaged, while his horses were eating, in reading a book; which i asked him to shew me and found it was the bible; thereupon i asked him some questions and his answers, and the account he gave of himself, have surprised me greatly. _mr. w_. i presume it was will--and though i do not know what he may have told you, yet i will undertake to say that he has told you nothing but the truth. i am always safe in believing him, and do not believe he would tell me an untruth for any thing that could be offered him.... _mr. j_. well, sir, you have seen i trust in your family, good fruits from the beginning. _mr. w_. yes indeed, sir, and that man was most instrumental in reconciling and encouraging all my people in the change. from that time i have regarded him as more a friend and assistant, than a slave. he has taught the younger ones to read, and by his kindness and example, has been a great benefit to all. i have told them that i would do what i could to instruct and improve them; and that if i found any so vicious, that they would not receive it and strive to amend, i would not keep them; that i hoped to have a religious, praying family, and that none would be obstinately bent on their own ruin. and from time to time, i endeavored to convince them that i was aiming at their own good. i cannot tell you all the happiness of the change, that god has been pleased to make among us, all by these means. and i have been benefited both temporally and spiritually by it; for my work is better done, and my people are more faithful, contented, and obedient than before; and i have the comfort of thinking that when my lord and master shall call me to account for those committed to my charge, i shall not be ashamed to present them.--bishop william meade's "tracts and dialogues," etc., in the appendix of thomas bacon's _sermons addressed to masters and servants_. a true account of a pious negro (written about ) some years ago an english gentleman had occasion to be in north america, where, among other adventures, the following circumstances occurred to him which are related in his own words. "every day's observation convinces me that the children of god, viz. those who believe in him, and on such terms are accepted by him through jesus christ, are made so by his own especial grace and power inclining them to what is good, and, assisting them when they endeavor to be and continue so. "in one of my excursions, while i was in the province of new york, i was walking by myself over a considerable plantation, amused with its husbandry, and comparing it with that of my own country, till i came within a little distance of a middle aged negro, who was tilling the ground. i felt a strong inclination to converse with him. after asking him some little questions about his work, which he answered very sensibly, i wished him to tell me, whether his state of slavery was not disagreeable to him, and whether he would not gladly exchange it for his liberty?" "massah," said he, looking seriously upon me, "i have wife and children; my massah takes care of them, and i have no care to provide anything; i have a good massah, who teach me to read; and i read good book, that makes me happy." "i am glad," replied i, "to hear you say so; and pray what is the good book you read?" "the bible, massah, god's own good book." "do you understand, friend, as well as read this book? for many can read the words well, who cannot get hold of the true and good sense." "o massah," says he, "i read the book much before i understand; but at last i found things in the book which made me very uneasy." "aye," said i, "and what things were they?" "why massah, i found that i was a sinner, massah, a very great sinner, i feared that god would destroy me, because i was wicked, and done nothing as i should do. god was holy, and i was very vile and naughty; so i could have nothing from him but fire and brimstone in hell, if i continued in this state." in short, he fully convinced me that he was thoroughly sensible of his errors, and he told me what scriptures came to his mind, which he had read, that both probed him to the bottom of his sinful heart, and were made the means of light and comfort to his soul. i then inquired of him, what ministry or means he made use of and found that his master was a quaker, a plain sort of man who had taught his slaves to read, and had thus afforded him some means of obtaining religious knowledge, though he had not ever conversed with this negro upon the state of his soul. i asked him likewise, how he got comfort under all his trials? "o massah," said he, "it was god gave me comfort by his word. he bade me come unto him, and he would give me rest, for i was very weary and heavy laden." and here he went through a line of the most striking texts in the bible, showing me, by his artless comment upon them as he went along, what great things god had done in the course of some years for his soul....--bishop william meade's "tracts, dialogues," etc., in the appendix of thomas bacon's _sermons addressed to masters and servants_. letter to abb� gr�goire, of paris, i have received the favor of your letter of august th, and with it the volume you were so kind as to send me on the literature of negroes. be assured that no person living wishes more sincerely than i do to see a complete refutation of the doubts i have myself entertained and expressed on the grade of understanding allotted to them by nature and to find that in this respect they are on par with ourselves. my doubts were the result of personal observation in the limited sphere of my own state, where the opportunities for the development of their genius were not favorable, and those of exercising it still less so. i expressed them therefore with great hesitation; but whatever be their degree of talent it is no measure of their rights. because sir isaac newton was superior to others in understanding, he was not therefore lord of the person and property of others. on this subject they are gaining daily in the opinions of nations, and hopeful advances are making towards their re-establishment on an equal footing with the other colors of the human family. i pray you therefore to accept my thanks for the many instances you have enabled me to observe of respectable intelligence in that race of men, which cannot fail to have effect in hastening the day of their relief; and to be sure of the sentiments of the high and just esteem and consideration which i tender to yourself with all sincerity.--_writings of thomas jefferson_, memorial edition, , vol. xii., p. . portion of jefferson's letter to m.a. julien, july , referring to kosciuszko, jefferson said: "on his departure from the united states in he left in my hands an instrument appropriating after his death all the property he had in our public funds, the price of his military services here, to the education and emancipation of as many of the children of bondage in this country as this should be adequate to. i am now too old to undertake a business _de si longue haleine_; but i am taking measures to place it in such hands as will ensure a faithful discharge of the philanthropic intentions of the donor. i learn with pleasure your continued efforts for the instruction of the future generations of men, and, believing it the only means of effectuating their rights, i wish them all possible success, and to yourself the eternal gratitude of those who will feel their benefits, and beg leave to add the assurance of my high esteem and respect."--_writings of thomas jefferson_, memorial edition. , vol. xv., pp. - . from madison's letter to miss frances wright, september , "supposing these conditions to be duly provided for, particularly the removal of the emancipated blacks, the remaining questions relate to the aptitude and adequacy of the process by which the slaves are at the same time to earn funds, entire or supplemental, required for their emancipation and removal; and to be sufficiently educated for a life of freedom and of social order.... "with respect to the proper course of education, no serious difficulties present themselves. as they are to continue in a state of bondage during the preparatory period, and to be within the jurisdiction of states recognizing ample authority over them, a competent discipline cannot be impracticable. the degree in which this discipline will enforce the needed labour, and in which a voluntary industry will supply the defect of compulsory labour, are vital points, on which it may not be safe to be very positive without some light from actual experiment. "considering the probable composition of the labourers, and the known fact that, where the labour is compulsory, the greater the number of labourers brought together (unless, indeed, where co-operation of many hands is rendered essential by a particular kind of work or of machinery) the less are the proportional profits, it may be doubted whether the surplus from that source merely, beyond the support of the establishment, would sufficiently accumulate in five, or even more years, for the objects in view. and candor obliges me to say that i am not satisfied either that the prospect of emancipation at a future day will sufficiently overcome the natural and habitual repugnance to labour, or that there is such an advantage of united over individual labour as is taken for granted. "in cases where portions of time have been allotted to slaves, as among the spaniards, with a view to their working out their freedom, it is believed that but few have availed themselves of the opportunity by a voluntary industry; and such a result could be less relied on in a case where each individual would feel that the fruits of his exertions would be shared by others, whether equally or unequally making them, and that the exertions of others would equally avail him, notwithstanding a deficiency in his own. skilful arrangements might palliate this tendency, but it would be difficult to counteract it effectually. "the examples of the moravians, the harmonites, and the shakers, in which the united labours of many for a common object have been successful, have, no doubt, an imposing character. but it must be recollected that in all these establishments there is a religious impulse in the members, and a religious authority in the head, for which there will be no substitutes of equivalent efficacy in the emancipating establishment. the code of rules by which mr. rapp manages his conscientious and devoted flock, and enriches a common treasury, must be little applicable to the dissimilar assemblage in question. his experience may afford valuable aid in its general organization, and in the distribution of details of the work to be performed. but an efficient administration must, as is judiciously proposed, be in hands practically acquainted with the propensities and habits of the members of the new community." from frederick douglass's paper, : "learn trades or starve" these are the obvious alternatives sternly presented to the free colored people of the united states. it is idle, yea even ruinous, to disguise the matter for a single hour longer; every day begins and ends with the impressive lesson that free negroes must learn trades, or die. the old avocations, by which colored men obtained a livelihood, are rapidly, unceasingly and inevitably passing into other hands; every hour sees the black man elbowed out of employment by some newly arrived emigrant, whose hunger and whose color are thought to give him a better title to the place; and so we believe it will continue to be until the last prop is levelled beneath us. as a black man, we say if we cannot stand up, let us fall down. we desire to be a man among men while we do live; and when we cannot, we wish to die. it is evident, painfully evident to every reflecting mind, that the means of living, for colored men, are becoming more and more precarious and limited. employments and callings formerly monopolized by us, are so no longer. white men are becoming house-servants, cooks and stewards on vessels--at hotels.--they are becoming porters, stevedores, wood-sawers, hod-carriers, brick-makers, white-washers and barbers, so that the blacks can scarcely find the means of subsistence--a few years ago, a _white_ barber would have been a curiosity--now their poles stand on every street. formerly blacks were almost the exclusive coachmen in wealthy families: this is so no longer; white men are now employed, and for aught we see, they fill their servile station with an obsequiousness as profound as that of the blacks. the readiness and ease with which they adapt themselves to these conditions ought not to be lost sight of by the colored people. the meaning is very important, and we should learn it. we are taught our insecurity by it. without the means of living, life is a curse, and leaves us at the mercy of the oppressor to become his debased slaves. now, colored men, what do you mean to do, for you must do something? the american colonization society tells you to go to liberia. mr. bibb tells you to go to canada. others tell you to go to school. we tell you to go to work; and to work you must go or die. men are not valued in this country, or in any country, for what they are; they are valued for what they can _do_. it is in vain that we talk of being men, if we do not the work of men. we must become valuable to society in other departments of industry than those servile ones from which we are rapidly being excluded. we must show that we can _do_ as well as be; and to this end we must learn trades. when we can build as well as live in houses; when we can _make_ as well as _wear_ shoes; when we can produce as well as consume wheat, corn and rye--then we shall become valuable to society. society is a hard-hearted affair.--with it the helpless may expect no higher dignity than that of paupers. the individual must lay society under obligation to him, or society will honor him only as a stranger and sojourner. _how_ shall this be done? in this manner; use every means, strain every nerve to master some important mechanical art. at present, the facilities for doing so are few--institutions of learning are more readily opened to you than the work-shop; but the lord helps them who will help themselves, and we have no doubt that new facilities will be presented as we press forward. if the alternative were presented to us of learning a trade or of getting an education, we would learn the trade, for the reason, that with the trade we could get the education while with the education we could not get the trade. what we, as a people, most need, is the means for our own elevation.--an educated colored man, in the united states, unless he has within him the heart of a hero, and is willing to engage in a lifelong battle for his rights, as a man, finds few inducements to remain in this country. he is isolated in the land of his birth--debarred by his color from congenial association with whites; he is equally cast out by the ignorance of the _blacks_. the remedy for this must comprehend the elevation of the masses; and this can only be done by putting the mechanic arts within the reach of colored men. we have now stated pretty strongly the case of our colored countrymen; perhaps some will say, _too_ strongly, but we know whereof we affirm. in view of this state of things, we appeal to the abolitionists. what boss anti-slavery mechanic will take a black boy into his wheelwright's shop, his blacksmith's shop, his joiner's shop, his cabinet shop? here is something _practical_; where are the whites and where are the blacks that will respond to it? where are the antislavery milliners and seamstresses that will take colored girls and teach them trades, by which they can obtain an honorable living? the fact that we have made good cooks, good waiters, good barbers, and white-washers, induces the belief that we may excel in higher branches of industry. _one thing is certain; we must find new methods of obtaining a livelihood, for the old ones are failing us very fast_. we, therefore, call upon the intelligent and thinking ones amongst us, to urge upon the colored people within their reach, in all seriousness, the duty and the necessity of giving their children useful and lucrative trades, by which they may commence the battle of life with weapons, commensurate with the exigencies of conflict.--_african repository_, vol. xxix., pp. , . education of colored people (_written by a highly respectable gentleman of the south in_ ) several years ago i saw in the _repository_, copied from the _colonization herald_, a proposal to establish a college for the education of young colored men in this country. since that time i have neither seen nor heard anything more of it, and i should be glad to hear whether the proposed plan was ever carried into execution. four years ago i conversed with one of the officers of the colonization society on the subject of educating in this country colored persons intending to emigrate to liberia, and expressed my firm conviction of the paramount importance of high moral and mental training as a fit preparation for such emigrants. to my great regret the gentleman stated that under existing circumstances the project, all important as he confessed it to be, was almost impracticable; so strong being the influence of the enemies of colonization that they would dissuade any colored persons so educated from leaving the united states. i know that he was thoroughly acquainted with the subject in all its bearings, and therefore felt that he must have good reasons for what he said; still i hoped the case was not so bad as he thought, and, at any rate, i looked forward with strong hope to the time when the colored race would, as a body, open their eyes to the miserable, unnatural position they occupy in america; when they would see who were their true friends, those who offered them real and complete freedom, social and political, in a land where there is no white race to keep them in subjection, where they govern themselves by their own laws; or those pretended friends who would keep the african where he can never be aught but a serf and bondsman of a despised caste, and who, by every act of their pretended philanthropy, make the colored man's condition worse. most happily, since that time, the colored race has been aroused to a degree never before known, and the conviction has become general among them that they must go to liberia if they would be free and happy. under these circumstances the better the education of the colored man the more keenly will he feel his present situation and the more clearly he will see the necessity of emigration. assuming such to be the feelings of the colored race, i think the immense importance of a collegiate institution for the education of their young must be felt and acknowledged by every friend of the race. some time since the legislature of liberia passed an act to incorporate a college in liberia, but i fear the project has failed, as i have heard nothing more of it since. supposing however the funds raised for such an institution, where are the professors to come from? they _must_ be educated in this country; and how can that be done without establishing an institution specially for young colored men? there is not a college in the united states where a young man of color could gain admission, or where, supposing him admitted, he could escape insult and indignity. into our theological seminaries a few are admitted, and are, perhaps, treated well; but what difficulty they find in obtaining a proper preparatory education. the cause of religion then, no less than that of secular education, calls for such a measure. i think a strong and earnest appeal ought to be made to every friend of colonization throughout the united states to support the scheme with heart, hand and purse. surely there are enough friends of the cause to subscribe at least a moderate sum for such a noble object; and in a cause like this, wealthy colored persons ought to, and doubtless will, subscribe according to their means. in addition to the general appeal through the _repository_, let each individual friend of colonization use all his influence with his personal friends and acquaintances, especially with such as are wealthy. i know from my own experience how much can be done by personal application, even in cases where success appears nearly hopeless.--i will pledge myself to use my humble endeavors to the utmost with my personal acquaintances. a large sum would not be _absolutely necessary_ to found the college; and it would certainly be better to commence in the humblest way than to give up the scheme altogether. buildings for instance might be purchased in many places for a very moderate sum that would answer every purpose, or they might be built in the cheapest manner; in short, everything might be commenced on the most economical scale and afterwards enlarged as funds increased. those who are themselves engaged in teaching, such as the faculties of colleges, etc., would, of course, be most competent to prepare a plan for the proposed institution, and the ablest of them should be consulted; meantime almost anyone interested in the cause may offer some useful hint. in that spirit, i would myself offer a few brief suggestions, in case this appeal should be favorably received. probably few men of my time of life have studied the character and condition of the african race more attentively than i have, with what success i cannot presume to say, but the opinion of any one devoting so much of his time to the subject ought to be of _some_ value. my opinion of their capacity has been much raised during my attempts at instructing them, but at the same time, i am convinced that they require a _totally different mode of training from whites_, and that any attempt to educate the two races together must prove a failure. i now close these desultory remarks with the hope that some one more competent than myself will take up the cause and urge it until some definite plan is formed.--_african repository_, vol. xxx., pp. , , . from a memorial to the legislature of north carolina, circulated among the citizens of that state in , to secure the modification of certain laws regulating slaves and free persons of color. elevation of the colored race the memorial is thus introduced: "your memorialists are well aware of the delicate nature of the subject to which the attention of the legislature is called, and of the necessity of proceeding with deliberation and caution. they propose some radical changes in the law of slavery, demanded by our common christianity, by public morality, and by the common weal of the whole south. at the same time they have no wish or purpose inconsistent with the best interests of the slaveholder, and suggest no reform which may impair the efficiency of slave labor. on the contrary, they believe that the much desired modifications of our slave code will redound to the welfare of all classes, and to the honor and character of the state throughout the civilized world." the attention of the legislature was then asked to the following propositions: " . that it behooves us as christian people to establish the institution of matrimony among our slaves, with all its legal obligations and guarantees as to its duration between the parties. . that under no circumstances should masters be permitted to disregard these natural and sacred ties of relationship among their slaves, or between slaves belonging to different masters. . that the parental relation to be acknowledged by law; and that the separation of parents from their young children, say of twelve years and under, be strictly forbidden, under heavy pains and penalties. . that the laws which prohibit the instruction of slaves and free colored persons, by teaching them to read the bible and other good books, be repealed."--_african repository_, vol. xxxi., pp. , . a lawyer for liberia on the sailing of almost every expedition we have had occasion to chronicle the departure of missionaries, teachers, or a physician, but not until the present time, that of a lawyer. the souls and bodies of the emigrants have been well cared for; now, it is no doubt supposed, they require assistance in guarding their money, civil rights, etc. most professional emissaries have been educated at public expense, either by missionary or the colonization societies, but the first lawyer goes out independent of any associated aid. mr. garrison draper, a colored man of high respectability, and long a resident of old town, early determined on educating his only son for africa. he kept him at some good public school in pennsylvania till fitted for college, then sent him to dartmouth where he remained four years and graduated, maintaining always a very respectable standing, socially, and in his class. after much consultation with friends, he determined upon the study of law. mr. charles gilman, a retired member of the baltimore bar, very kindly consented to give young draper professional instruction, and for two years he remained under his tuition. not having any opportunities for acquiring a knowledge of the routine of professional practice, the rules, habits, and courtesy of the bar, in baltimore, mr. draper spent some few months in the office of a distinguished lawyer in boston. on returning to the city to embark for liberia, he underwent an examination by judge lee of the superior court, and obtained from him a certificate of his fitness to practice the profession of law, a copy of which we append hereto. we consider the settlement of mr. draper in the republic as an event of no little importance. it seemed necessary that there should be one regularly educated lawyer in a community of several thousand people, in a republic of freemen. true, there are many very intelligent, well informed men now in the practice of law in liberia, but they have not been educated to the profession, and we believe, no one makes that his exclusive business. we doubt not that they will welcome mr. draper as one of their fraternity. to our liberia friends we commend him as a well-educated, intelligent man, of good habits and principles; one in whom they may place the fullest confidence, and we bespeak for him, at their hands, kind considerations and patronage. state of maryland, city of baltimore, october , . upon the application of charles gilman, esq., of the baltimore bar, i have examined edward g. draper, a young man of color, who has been reading law under the direction of mr. gilman, with the view of pursuing its practice in liberia, africa. and i have found him most intelligent and well informed in his answers to the questions propounded by me, and qualified in all respects to be admitted to the bar in maryland, if he was a free white citizen of this state. mr. gilman, in whom i have the highest confidence, has also testified to his good moral character. this certificate is therefore furnished to him by me, with a view to promote his establishment and success in liberia at the bar there. z. collins lee, judge of superior court, balt., md. _african repository_, vol. xxxiv., pp. and . bibliography there is no helpful bibliography on the early education of the american negro. a few books treating the recent problems of education in this country give facts about the enlightenment of the colored people before their general emancipation, but the investigator has to depend on promiscuous sources for adequate information of this kind. with the exception of a survey of the _legal status of the colored population in respect to schools and education in the different states_, published in the report of the united states commissioner of education in , there has been no attempt at a general treatment of this phase of our history. this treatise, however, is too brief to inculcate an appreciation of the extensive efforts to enlighten the ante-bellum negro. considered as a local problem this question has received more attention. a few writers have undertaken to sketch the movement to educate the colored people of certain communities before the civil war. their objective point, however, has been rather to treat of later periods. the books mentioned below give some information with respect to the period treated in this monograph. books on education andrews, c.c. _the history of the new york african free schools from their establishment in to the present time_. (new york, .) embraces a period of more than forty years, also a brief account of the successful labors of the new york manumission society, with an appendix containing specimens of original composition, both in prose and verse, by several of the pupils; pieces spoken at public examinations; an interesting dialogue between doctor samuel l. mitchell, of new york, and a little boy of ten years old, and lines illustrative of the lancastrian system of instruction. andrews was a white man who was for a long time the head of this colored school system. boese, thomas. _public education in the city of new york, its history, condition, and statistics, an official report of the board of education_. (new york, .) while serving as clerk of the board of education boese had an opportunity to learn much about the new york african free schools. boone, r.g. _a history of education in indiana._ (new york, .) contains a brief account of the work of the abolitionists in behalf of the education of the negroes of that commonwealth. butler, n.m. _education in the united states_. a series of monographs. (new york, .) foote, j.p. _the schools of cincinnati and its vicinity_. (cincinnati, .) a few pages of this book are devoted to the establishment and the development of colored schools in that city. goodwin, m.b. "history of schools for the colored population in the district of columbia." (published in the report of the united states commissioner of education in .) this is the most thorough research hitherto made in this field. the same system has been briefly treated by w.s. montgomery in his _historical sketch of education for the colored race in the district of columbia_, - . (washington, d.c., .) a less detailed account of the same is found in james storum's "_the colored public schools of washington,--their origin, growth, and present condition." (a.m.e. church review_, vol. v., p. .) jones, c.c. _the religious instruction of the negroes in the united states_. (savannah, .) in trying to depict the spiritual condition of the colored people the writer tells also what he thought about their intellectual status. meriwether, c. _history of higher education in south carolina, with a sketch of the free school system_. (washington, .) the author accounts for the early education of the colored people in that commonwealth but gives no details. miller, kelly. "_the education of the negro_." constitutes chapter xvi. of the report of the united states commissioner of education for the year . contains a brief sketch of the early education of the negro race in this country. orr, gustavus. _the need of education in the south_. (atlanta, .) an address delivered before the department of superintendence of the national educational association in . mr. orr referred to the first efforts to educate the negroes of the south. plumer, w.s. _thoughts on the religious instruction of negroes_. reference is made here to the early work of the moravians among the colored people. randall, samuel sidwell. _the common school system of the state of new york_. (new york, .) comprises the several laws relating to common schools, together with full expositions, instructions, and forms, to which is prefixed an historical sketch of the system. prepared in pursuance of an act of the legislature, under the direction of the honorable christopher morgan, superintendent of common schools. stockwell, thomas b. _a history of public education in rhode island from to _. (providence, .) compiled by authority of the board of education of providence. takes into account the various measures enacted to educate the negroes of that commonwealth. wickersham, j.p. _a history of education in pennsylvania, private and public, elementary and higher, from the time the swedes settled on the delaware to the present day_. (lancaster, pa., .) considerable space is given to the education of the negroes. wright, r.r., sr. _a brief historical sketch of negro education in georgia_. (savannah, .) the movement during the early period in that state is here disposed of in a few pages. _a brief sketch of the schools for the black people and their descendants, established by the society of friends_, etc. (philadelphia, .) books of travel by foreigners abdy, e.s. _journal of a residence and tour in the united states from april, , to october, _. three volumes. (london, .) abdy was a fellow of jesus college, cambridge. alliot, paul. _réflexions historiques et politigues sur la louisiane_. (cleveland, .) good for economic conditions. valuable for information concerning new orleans about the beginning of the nineteenth century. arfwedson, c.d. _the united states and canada in and _. two volumes. (london, .) somewhat helpful. bremer, frederika. _the homes of the new world; impressions of america_. translated by m. howitt. two volumes. (london, .) the teaching of negroes in the south is mentioned in several places. brissot de warville, j.p. _new travels in the united states of america: including the commerce of america with europe, particularly with great britain and france_. two volumes. (london, .) gives general impressions, few details. buckingham, j.s. _america, historical, statistical, and descriptive_. two volumes. (new york, .) ---- _eastern and western states of america_. three volumes. (london and paris, .) contains useful information. bullock, w. _sketch of a journey through the western states of north america from new orleans by the mississippi, ohio, city of cincinnati, and falls of niagara to new york_. (london, .) the author makes mention of the condition of the negroes. coke, thomas. _extracts from the journals of the rev. dr. coke's three visits to america_. (london, .) contains general information. ---- _a journal of the reverend doctor coke's fourth tour on the continent of america_. (london, .) brings out the interest of this churchman in the elevation of the negroes. cuming, f. _sketches of a tour to the western country through the states of kentucky and ohio; a voyage down the ohio and mississippi rivers and a trip through the mississippi territory and part of west florida, commenced at philadelphia in the winter of and concluded in _. (pittsburg, .) gives a few facts. faux, w. _venerable days in america_. (london, .) a "journal of a tour in the united states principally undertaken to ascertain by positive evidence, the condition and probable prospects of british emigrants, including accounts of mr. kirkbeck's settlement in illinois and intended to show men and things as they are in america." the negroes are casually mentioned. humboldt, friedrich heinrich alexander, freiherr von. _the travels and researches of friedrich heinrich alexander von humboldt._ (london, .) the author gives a "condensed narrative of his journeys in the equinoctial regions in america and in asiatic russia." the work contains also analyses of his important investigations. he throws a little light on the condition of the mixed breeds of the western hemisphere. kemble, frances anne. _journal of a residence on a plantation in - ._ (new york, .) this diary is quoted extensively as one of the best sources for southern conditions before the civil war. lambert, john. _travels through canada and the united states, in the years , , and ._ two volumes. (london, .) to this journal are added notices and anecdotes of some of the leading characters in the united states. this traveler saw the negroes. pons, fran�ois raymond de. _travels in parts of south america, during the years , , , and ._ (london, .) contains a description of caracas; an account of the laws, commerce, and natural productions of that country; and a view of the customs and manners of the spaniards and native indians. negroes are mentioned. priest, william. _travels in the united states commencing in the year and ending in the year ._ (london, .) priest made two voyages across the atlantic to appear at the theaters of baltimore, boston, and philadelphia. he had something to say about the condition of the negroes. rochefoucauld-liancourt, duc de. _travels through the united states of america, the country of the iroquois, and upper canada in the years , , and ._ (london, .) the author discusses the attitude of the people toward the uplift of the negroes. schoepf, johann david. _reise durch der mittlern und sudlichen vereinigten nordamerikanischen staaten nach ost-florida und den bahama inseln unternommen in den jahren und ._ (cincinnati, .) a translation of this work was published by alfred j. morrison at philadelphia in . gives general impressions. smyth, j.f.d. _a tour in the united states_. (london, .) this writer incidentally mentions the people of color. sutcliff, robert. _travels in some parts of north america in the years , , and _. (philadelphia, .) while traveling in slave territory sutcliff studied the mental condition of the colored people. books of travel by americans brown, david. _the planter, or thirteen years in the south_. (philadelphia, .) here we get a northern white man's view of the heathenism of the negroes. burke, emily. _reminiscences of georgia_. (oberlin, ohio, .) presents the views of a woman who was interested in the uplift of the negro race. evans, estwick. _a pedestrious tour of four thousand miles through the western states and territories during the winter and spring of _. (concord, n.h., .) among the many topics treated is the author's contention that the negro is capable of the highest mental development. olmsted, frederick law. _a journey in the seaboard slave states, with remarks on their economy_. (new york, .) ---- _a journey in the back country_. (london, i .) ---- _journeys and explorations in the cotton kingdom_. (london, .) olmsted was a new york farmer. he recorded a few important facts about the education of the negroes immediately before the civil war. parsons, e.g. _inside view of slavery, or a tour among the planters_. (boston, .) the introduction was written by harriet beecher stowe. it was published to aid the antislavery cause, but in describing the condition of negroes the author gave some educational statistics. redpath, james. _the roving editor, or talks with slaves in southern states_. (new york .) the slaves are here said to be telling their own story. smedes, mrs. susan (dabney). _memorials of a southern planter_. (baltimore, .) the benevolence of those masters who had their slaves taught in spite of public opinion and the law, is well brought out in this volume. tower, reverend philo. _slavery unmasked_. (rochester, .) valuable chiefly for the author's arraignment of the so-called religious instruction of the negroes after the reactionary period. woolman, john. _journal of john woolman, with an introduction by john g. whittier_. (boston, .) woolman traveled so extensively in the colonies that he probably knew more about the mental state of the negroes than any other quaker of his time. letters jefferson, thomas. letters of thomas jefferson to abbé grégoire, m.a. julien, and benjamin banneker. in _jefferson's works_, memorial edition, xii. and xv. he comments on negroes' talents. madison, james. letter to prances wright. _in madison's works_, vol. iii., p. . the training of negroes is discussed. may, samuel joseph. _the right of the colored people to education_. (brooklyn, .) a collection of public letters addressed to andrew t. judson, remonstrating on the unjust procedure relative to miss prudence crandall. mcdonogh, john. "a letter of john mcdonogh on african colonization addressed to the editor of _the new orleans commercial bulletin_," mcdonogh was interested in the betterment of the colored people and did much to promote their mental development. sharpe, h. ed. _the abolition of negro apprenticeship_. a letter to lord brougham. (london, .) _a southern spy, or curiosities of negro slavery in the south. letters from a southern to a northern gentleman_. the comment of a passer-by. _a letter to an american planter from his friend in london in _. the writer discussed the instruction of negroes. biographies birney, catherine h. _the grimké sisters; sara and angelina grimké, the first american women advocates of abolition and woman's rights_. (boston, .) mentions the part these workers played in the secret education of negroes in the south. birney, william. _james g. birney and his times_. (new york, .) a sketch of an advocate of negro education. bowen, clarence w. _arthur and lewis tappan_. a paper read at the fiftieth anniversary of the new york anti-slavery society, at the broadway tabernacle, new york city, october , . an honorable mention of two promoters of the colored manual labor schools. child, lydia maria. _isaac t. hopper: a true life_. (boston and cleveland, .) conway, moncure daniel. _benjamin banneker, the negro astronomer_. (london, .) (cooper, james f.) _notions of the americans picked up by a traveling bachelor_. (philadelphia, .) general. drew, benjamin. _a north-side view of slavery. the refugee: or the narratives of fugitive slaves in canada_. related by themselves, with an account of the history and condition of the colored population of upper canada. (new york and boston, .) garrison, francis and wendell p. _william lloyd garrison, - . the story of his life told by his children_. four volumes. (boston and new york, .) includes a brief account of what he did for the education of the colored people. hallowell, a.d. _james and lucretia mott; life and letters_. (boston, .) these were ardent abolitionists who advocated the education of the colored people. johnson, oliver. _william lloyd garrison and his times_. (boston, . new edition, revised and enlarged, boston, .) lossing, benson j. _life of george washington, a biography, military and political_. three volumes. (new york, .) gives the will of george washington, who provided that at the stipulated time his slaves should be freed and that their children should be taught to read. mather, cotton. _the life and death of the reverend john elliot who was the first preacher of the gospel to the indians in america_. the third edition carefully corrected. (london, .) sets forth the attitude of john elliot toward the teaching of slaves. mott, a. _biographical sketches and interesting anecdotes of persons of color; with a selection of pieces of poetry_. (new york, .) some of these sketches show how ambitious negroes learned to read and write in spite of opposition. simmons, w.j. _men of mark: eminent, progressive, and rising, with an introductory sketch of the author by reverend henry m. turner_. (cleveland, ohio, .) accounts for the adverse circumstances under which many ante-bellum negroes acquired knowledge. snowden, t.b. _the autobiography of john b. snowden_. (huntington, w. va., .) wightman, william may. _life of william capers, one of the bishops of the methodist episcopal church south; including an autobiography_. (nashville, tenn., .) shows what capers did for the religious instruction of the colored people. autobiographies asbury, bishop francis. _the journal of the reverend francis asbury, bishop of the methodist episcopal church, from august , , to december , _. three volumes. (new york, .) coffin, levi. _reminiscences of levi coffin, reputed president of the under ground railroad_. (second edition, cincinnati, .) mentions the teaching of slaves. douglass, frederick. _narrative of the life of frederick douglass, as an american slave_. written by himself. (boston, .) gives several cases of secret negro schools. ---- _the life and times of frederick douglass from to _. written by himself. illustrated. with an introduction by the right honorable john bright, m.p. edited by john loeb, f.r.g.s., of the _christian age_, editor of _uncle tom's story of his life_. (london, .) contains douglass's appeal in behalf of vocational training. flint, timothy. _recollections of the last ten years_. a series of letters to the reverend james flint of salem, massachusetts, by t. flint, principal of the seminary of rapide, louisiana. (boston, .) mentions the teaching of negroes. general histories bancroft, george. _history of the united states_. ten volumes. (boston, - .) hart, a.b., editor. _american history told by contemporaries_. four volumes. (new york, .) ---- _the american nation; a history, etc_. twenty-seven volumes. (new york, - .) the volumes which have a bearing on the subject treated in this monograph are bourne's _spain in america_, edward channing's _jeffersonian system_, f.j. turner's _rise of the new west_, and hart's _slavery and abolition_. herrera y tordesillas, antonio de. _historia general de los hechos de los castellanos en las islas i tierra firme del mar oceano. escrito por antonio herrera coronista mayor de sr. m. de las indias y si coronista de castilla. en quatro decadas desde el año de hasta el de . decada primera del rey nuro señor_. (en madrid en la imprenta real de nicolas rodriguez franco, año - .) mcmaster, john b. _history of the united states_. six volumes. (new york, .) rhodes, j.f. _history of the united states from the compromise of to the final restoration of home rule in the south_. (new york and london, macmillan & company, - .) von holst, herman. _the constitutional and political history of the united states of america_. (seven volumes. chicago, .) state histories ashe, s.a. _history of north carolina_. (greensboro, .) bancroft, hubert howe. _history of arizona and new mexico, - _. (san francisco, .) bearse, austin. _reminiscences of fugitive slave days in boston_. (boston, .) bettle, edward. "notices of negro slavery as connected with pennsylvania." read before the historical society of pennsylvania, th mo., th, . _memoirs of historical society of pennsylvania_. brackett, jeffrey r. _the negro in maryland_. johns hopkins university studies. (baltimore, .) collins, lewis. _historical sketches of kentucky_. (maysville, ky., and cincinnati, ohio, .) jones, charles colcock, jr. _history of georgia_. (boston, .) mccrady, edward. _the history of south carolina under the royal government, - _, by edward mccrady, a member of the bar of south carolina and president of the historical society of south carolina, author of _a history of south carolina under the proprietary government_. (new york and london, .) steiner, b.c. _history of slavery in connecticut_. (johns hopkins university studies, .) stuv�, bernard, and alexander davidson. _a complete history of illinois from to _. (springfield, .) tremain, mary m.a. _slavery in the district of columbia_. (university of nebraska seminary papers, april, .) _history of brown county, ohio_. (chicago, .) "_slavery in illinois, - ." (massachusetts historical society collections_, volume x.) church histories bangs, nathan. _a history of the methodist episcopal church_. four volumes. (new york, .) benedict, david. _a general history of the baptist denomination in america and in other parts of the world_. (boston, .) ---- _fifty years among the baptists_. (new york, .) dalcho, frederick. _an historical account of the protestant episcopal church in south carolina, from the first settlement of the province to the war of the revolution_; with notices of the present state of the church in each parish: and some accounts of the early civil history of carolina never before published. to which are added: the laws relating to religious worship, the journal and rules of the convention of south carolina; the constitution and canons of the protestant episcopal church and the course of ecclesiastical studies. (charleston, .) davidson, rev. robert. _history of the presbyterian church in the state of kentucky; with a preliminary sketch of the churches in the valley of virginia._ (new york, pittsburgh, and lexington, kentucky, .) hamilton, john t. _a history of the church known as the moravian church, or the unitas fratrum, or the unity of brethren during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries._ (bethlehem, pa., .) hawks, francis l. _ecclesiastical history of the united states._ (new york, .) james, charles p. _documentary history of the struggle for religious liberty in virginia._ (lynchburg, va., .) matlack, lucius. _the history of american slavery and methodism from to : and history of the wesleyan methodist connection of america. in two parts with an appendix._ (new york, .) mctyeire, holland n. _a history of methodism; comprising a view of the rise of the revival of spiritual religion in the first half of the eighteenth century, and the principal agents by whom it was promoted in europe and america, with some account of the doctrine and polity of episcopal methodism in the united states and the means and manner of its extension down to ._ (nashville, tenn., .) mctyeire was one of the bishops of the methodist episcopal church south. reichel, l.t. _the early history of the church of the united brethren (unitas fratrum) commonly called moravians in north america, from to ._ (nazareth, pa., .) rush, christopher. _a short account of the african methodist episcopal church in america._ written by the aid of george collins. also a view of the church order or government from scripture and from some of the best authors relative to episcopacy. (new york, .) semple, r.b. _history of the rise and progress of the baptists in virginia._ (richmond, .) sermons, orations, addresses bacon, thomas. _sermons addressed to masters and servants._ published in . republished with other tracts by rev. william meade. (winchester, va., .) boucher, jonathan. "american education." this address is found in the author's volume entitled _a view of the causes and consequences of the american revolution_; in thirteen discourses, preached in north america between the years and : with an historical preface. (london, .) buchanan, george. _an oration upon the moral and political evil of slavery_. delivered at a public meeting of the maryland society for promoting the abolition of slavery, and relief of free negroes and others unlawfully held in bondage. baltimore, july , . (baltimore, .) catto, william t. _a semicentenary discourse delivered in the first african presbyterian church, philadelphia, on the th sabbath of may, _: with a history of the church from its first organization; including a brief notice of reverend john gloucester, its first pastor. also an appendix containing sketches of all the colored churches in philadelphia. (philadelphia, .) the author was then pastor of this church. dana, james. _the african slave trade_. a discourse delivered in the city of new haven, september , , before the connecticut society for the promotion of freedom. (new haven, .) dr. dana was at that time the pastor of the first congregational church of new haven. fawcett, benjamin. _a compassionate address to the christian negroes in virginia, and other british colonies in north america_. with an appendix containing some account of the rise and progress of christianity among that poor people. (the second edition, salop, printed by f. edwards and f. cotton.) garrison, william lloyd. _an address delivered before the free people of color in philadelphia, new york, and other cities during the month of june, _. (boston, .) griffin, edward dorr. _a plea for africa_. a sermon preached october , , in the first presbyterian church in the city of new york before the synod of new york and new jersey at the request of the board of directors of the african school established by the synod. (new york, .) the aim was to arouse interest in this school. jones, charles colcock. _the religious instruction of negroes_. a sermon delivered before the association of the planters in liberty and mcintosh counties, georgia. (princeton, n.j., .) jones was then engaged in the work which he was discussing. mayo, a.d. "address on negro education." (_springfield republican_, july , ; and the _new england magazine_, october, .) rush, benjamin. _an address to the inhabitants of the british settlements in america upon slave keeping_. the second edition with observations on a pamphlet entitled _slavery not forbidden by the scripture or a defense of the west indian planters by a pennsylvanian_. (philadelphia, .) the negroes' need of education is pointed out. secker, thomas, archbishop of canterbury. _a sermon preached before the incorporated society for the propagation of the gospel in foreign parts_; at their anniversary meeting in the parish church of st. mary-le-bow, on friday, february , . (london .) in this discourse secker set forth his plan of teaching the negroes to elevate themselves. sidney, joseph. _an oration commemorative of the abolition of the slave trade in the united states delivered before the wilberforce philanthropic association in the city of new york on january , _. (new york, .) the speaker did not forget the duty of all men to uplift those unfortunates who had already been degraded. smith, thomas p. _an address before the colored citizens of boston in opposition to the abolition of colored schools, _. (boston, .) warburton, william, bishop of gloucester. _a sermon preached before the incorporated society for the propagation of the gospel in foreign parts_; at their anniversary meeting in the parish church of st. mary-le-bow on friday, february , . (london, .) the speaker urged his hearers to enlighten the indians and negroes. reports on the education of the colored people _report of the proceedings at the formation of the african education society_; instituted at washington, december , . with an address to the public by the board of managers. (washington, .) _report of the minority of the committee of the primary school board on the caste schools of the city of boston._ with some remarks on the city solicitor's opinion, by wendell phillips. (boston, .) _report of a special committee of the grammar school board of boston, massachusetts._ abolition of the smith colored school. (boston, .) _report of the primary school committee, boston, massachusetts._ abolition of the colored schools. (boston, .) _report of the minority of the committee upon the petition of j.t. hilton and other colored citizens of boston, praying for the abolition of the smith colored school._ (boston, .) _opinion of honorable richard fletcher as to whether colored children can be lawfully excluded from free public schools._ (boston, .) _special report of the commissioner of education on the improvement of the public schools in the district of columbia_, containing m.b. goodwin's "history of schools for the colored population in the district of columbia." (washington, .) _thirty-seventh annual report of the new york public school society, ._ (new york, .) statistics clarke, j.f. _present condition of the free colored people of the united states._ (new york and boston, the american antislavery society, .) published also in the march number of the _christian examiner_. _condition of the free people of color in ohio._ with interesting anecdotes. (boston, .) _institute for colored youth._ (philadelphia, - .) contains a list of the officers and students. _report of the condition of the colored people of cincinnati, ._ (cincinnati, .) _report of a committee of the pennsylvania society of abolition on present condition of the colored people, etc._, . (philadelphia, .) _statistical inquiry into the condition of the people of color of the city and districts of philadelphia._ (philadelphia, .) _statistics of the colored people of philadelphia in _, compiled by benj. c. bacon. (philadelphia, .) _statistical abstract of the united states, ._ prepared by the bureau of statistics. (washington, d.c., .) _statistical view of the population of the united states, a_, - . (published by the department of state in .) _the present state and condition of the free people of color of the city of philadelphia and adjoining districts as exhibited by the report of a committee of the pennsylvania society for promoting the abolition of slavery._ read first month (january), th, . (philadelphia, .) _trades of the colored people._ (philadelphia, .) united states censuses of , , , , , , , and . varle, charles. _a complete view of baltimore_; with a statistical sketch of all the commercial, mercantile, manufacturing, literary, scientific institutions and establishments in the same vicinity ... derived from personal observation and research. (baltimore, .) church reports _a brief statement of the rise and progress of the testimony of friends against slavery and the slave trade._ published by direction of the yearly meeting held in philadelphia in the fourth month, . shows the action taken by various friends to educate the negroes. _a collection of the acts, deliverances, and testimonies of the supreme judicatory of the presbyterian church, from its origin in america to the present time._ by samuel j. baird. (philadelphia, .) _acts and proceedings of the general assembly of the presbyterian church in the united states of america in the year ._ (philadelphia, .) the question of instructing the negroes came up in this meeting. pascoe, c.f. _classified digest of the records of the society for the propagation of the gospel in foreign parts, - , with much supplementary information._ (london, .) a good source for the accounts of the efforts of this organization among negroes. "minutes of the methodist conference, ." found in rev. charles elliott's _history of the great secession from the methodist episcopal church_, etc. this conference discussed the education of the colored people. reports of the american convention, - american convention of abolition societies. _minutes of the proceedings of a convention of delegates from the abolition societies established in different parts of the united states, assembled at philadelphia on the first day of january, one thousand seven hundred and ninety-four, and continued by adjournments, until the seventh day of the same month, inclusive._ (philadelphia, .) --_minutes of the proceedings of the second convention of delegates from the abolition societies established in different parts of the united states, assembled at philadelphia on the seventh day of january, one thousand seven hundred and ninety-five, and continued by adjournments until the fourteenth day of the same month, inclusive._ (philadelphia, .) --_minutes of the proceedings of the third convention of delegates from the abolition societies established in different parts of the united states, assembled at philadelphia on the first day of january, one thousand seven hundred and ninety-six, and continued, by adjournments, until the seventh day of the same month, inclusive._ (philadelphia, .) --_address to free africans and other free people of colour in the united states._ ( .) --_minutes of the proceedings of the fourth convention of delegates from the abolition societies established in different parts of the united states, assembled at philadelphia on the third day of may, one thousand seven hundred and ninety-seven, and continued by adjournments, until the ninth day of the same month, inclusive._ (philadelphia, .) --_minutes of the proceedings of the fifth convention of delegates from the abolition societies established in different parts of the united states, assembled at philadelphia on the first day of june, one thousand seven hundred and ninety-eight, and continued, by adjournments, until the sixth day of the same month, inclusive._ (philadelphia, .) american convention of abolition societies. _minutes of the proceedings of the sixth convention of delegates from the abolition societies established in different parts of the united states, assembled at philadelphia, on the fourth day of june, one thousand eight hundred, and continued by adjournments, until the sixth day of the same month, inclusive._ (philadelphia, .) --_minutes of the proceedings of the seventh convention of delegates from the abolition societies established in different parts of the united states, assembled at philadelphia on the third day of june, one thousand eight hundred and one, and continued by adjournments until the sixth day of the same month, inclusive._ (philadelphia, .) --_minutes of the proceedings of the eighth convention of delegates from the abolition societies established in different parts of the united states, assembled at philadelphia, on the tenth day of january, one thousand eight hundred and three, and continued by adjournments until the fourteenth day of the same month, inclusive._ (philadelphia, .) --_minutes of the proceedings of the ninth american convention for promoting the abolition of slavery and improving the condition of the african race; assembled at philadelphia on the ninth day of january, one thousand eight hundred and four, and continued by adjournments until the thirteenth day of the same month, inclusive._ (philadelphia, .) --_address of the american convention for promoting the abolition of slavery and improving the condition of the african race, assembled at philadelphia, in january, , to the people of the united states._ (philadelphia, .) --_minutes of the proceedings of the tenth american convention for promoting the abolition of slavery and improving the condition of the african race; assembled at philadelphia on the fourteenth day of january, one thousand eight hundred and five, and continued by adjournments until the seventeenth day of the same month, inclusive._ (philadelphia, .) --_minutes of the proceedings of the eleventh american convention for promoting the abolition of slavery and improving the condition of the african race; assembled at philadelphia, on the thirteenth day of january, one thousand eight hundred and six, and continued by adjournments until the fifteenth day of the same month, inclusive._ (philadelphia, .) --_minutes of the proceedings of a special meeting of the fifteenth american convention for promoting the abolition of slavery and improving the condition of the african race; assembled at philadelphia on the tenth day of december, , and continued by adjournments until the fifteenth day of the same month, inclusive._ (philadelphia, .) --_constitution of the american convention for promoting the abolition of slavery, and improving the condition of the african race. adopted on the eleventh day of december, , to take effect on the fifth day of october, ._ (philadelphia, .) --_minutes of the eighteenth session of the american convention for promoting the abolition of slavery, and improving the condition of the african race. convened at philadelphia, on the seventh day of october, ._ (philadelphia, .) --_to the clergy and pastors throughout the united states._ (dated philadelphia, september , .) --_minutes of the adjourned session of the twentieth biennial american convention for promoting the abolition of slavery. held at baltimore, november ._ (philadelphia, .) reports of anti-slavery societies _the annual report of the american and foreign anti-slavery societies, presented at new york, may , , with the addresses and resolutions._ (new york, .) _the annual report of the american and foreign anti-slavery societies, with the addresses and resolutions._ (new york, .) _the first annual report of the american anti-slavery society, with the speeches delivered at the anniversary meeting held in chatham street chapel in the city of new york, on the sixth day of may by adjournment on the eighth, in the rev. dr. lansing's church, and the minutes of the society for business._ (new york, .) _the second annual report of the american anti-slavery society, held in the city of new york, on the twelfth of may, , and the minutes and proceedings of the society for business._ (new york, .) _the third annual report of the american anti-slavery society, with the speeches delivered at the anniversary meeting held in the city of new york on may the tenth, , and minutes of the meetings of the society for business._ (new york, .) _the fourth annual report of the american anti-slavery society, with the speeches delivered at the anniversary meeting held in the city of new york on the ninth of may, ._ (new york, .) _the fifth annual report of the american anti-slavery society, with the speeches delivered at the anniversary meeting and the minutes and proceedings of the society for business._ (new york, .) _the sixth annual report of the american anti-slavery society, with the speeches delivered at the anniversary meeting held in the city of new york, on the seventh day of may, , and the minutes of the meetings of the society for business, held on the evenings of the three following days._ (new york, .) _the annual report of the american anti-slavery society by the executive committee for the year ending may , ._ (new york, .) _the third annual report of the managers of the new england anti-slavery society presented june , _. (boston, .) _annual reports of the massachusetts (or new england) anti-slavery society, -end_. _reports of the national anti-slavery convention, -end_. reports of colonization societies _reports of the american colonization society, - _. _report of the new york colonization society, october , _. (new york, .) _the seventh annual report of the colonization society of the city of new york_. (new york, .) _proceedings of the new york state colonization society, _. (albany, .) _the eighteenth annual report of the colonization society of the state of new york_. (new york, .) reports of conventions of free negroes _minutes and proceedings of the first annual convention of the people of color. held by adjournment in the city of philadelphia, from the sixth to the eleventh of june, inclusive_, . (philadelphia, .) _minutes and proceedings of the second annual convention for the improvement of the free people of color in these united states. held by adjournments in the city of philadelphia, from the th to the th of june, inclusive, _,(philadelphia, .) _minutes and proceedings of the third annual convention for the improvement of the free people of color in these united states. held by adjournments in the city of philadelphia, in . (new york, .)_ these proceedings were published also in the new york commercial advertiser, april , . _minutes and proceedings of the fourth annual convention for the improvement of the free people of color in the united states. held by adjournments in the asbury church, new york, from the d to the th of june, ._ (new york, .) _proceedings of the convention of the colored freedmen of ohio at cincinnati, january , ._ (cincinnati, ohio, .) miscellaneous books and pamphlets adams, alice dana. _the neglected period of anti-slavery in america._ radcliffe college monographs no. . (boston and london, .) contains some valuable facts about the education of the negroes during the first three decades of the nineteenth century. adams, john. _the works of john adams, second president of the united states_; with a life of the author, notes, and illustrations by his grandson, charles francis adams. ten volumes. volume x., shows the attitude of james otis toward the negroes. adams, nehemiah. _a south-side view of slavery; or three months at the south in ._ (boston, .) the position of the south on the education of the colored people is well set forth. agricola (pseudonym). _an impartial view of the real state of the black population in the united states._ (philadelphia, .) albert, o.v. _the house of bondage_; or charlotte brooks and other slaves original and life-like as they appeared in their plantation and city slave life; together with pen pictures of the peculiar institution, with sights and insights into their new relations as freedmen, freemen, and citizens, with an introduction by reverend bishop willard mallalieu. (new york and cincinnati, .) alexander, a. _a history of colonization on the western continent of africa._ (philadelphia, .) treats of education in "an account of the endeavors used by the society for the propagation of the gospel in foreign parts, to instruct negroes in the city of new york, together with two of bishop gibson's letters on that subject, being an extract from dr. humphrey's historical account of the incorporated society for the propagation of the gospel in foreign parts from its foundation in the year ." (london, .) _an address to the people of north carolina on the evils of slavery, by the friends of liberty and equality, ._ (greensborough, .) _an address to the presbyterians of kentucky proposing a plan for the instruction and emancipation of their slaves by a committee of the synod of kentucky._ (newburyport, .) anderson, matthew._presbylerianism--its relation to the negro._ (philadelphia, .) andrews, e.e. _slavery and the domestic slave trade in the united states._ in a series of letters addressed to the executive committee of the american union for the relief and improvement of the colored race. (boston, .) baldwin, ebenezer. _observations on the physical and moral qualities of our colored population with remarks on the subject of emancipation and colonization._ (new haven, .) bassett, j.s. _slavery and servitude in the colony of north carolina._ (johns hopkins university studies in historical and political science. fourteenth series, iv.-v. baltimore, .) ---- _slavery in the state of north carolina._ (johns hopkins university studies in historical and political science. series xvii., nos. - . baltimore, .) ---- _anti-slavery leaders of north carolina._ (johns hopkins university studies in historical and political science. series xvi., no. . baltimore, .) baxter, richard. _practical works._ twenty-three volumes. (london, .) benezet, anthony. _a caution to great britain and her colonies in a short representation of the calamitous state of the enslaved negro in the british dominions._ (philadelphia, .) ---- _the case of our fellow-creatures, the oppressed africans, respectfully recommended to the serious consideration of the legislature of great britain, by the people called quakers._ (london, .) ---- _observations on the enslaving, importing, and purchasing of negroes; with some advice thereon, extracted from the epistle of the yearly-meeting of the people called quakers, held at london in the year ._ (germantown, .) ---- _the potent enemies of america laid open: being some account of the baneful effects attending the use of distilled spirituous liquors, and the slavery of the negroes._ (philadelphia.) ---- _a short account of that part of africa, inhabited by the negroes. with respect to the fertility of the country; the good disposition of many of the natives, and the manner by which the slave trade is carried on._ (philadelphia, .) ---- _short observations on slavery, introductory to some extracts from the writings of the abbé raynal, on the important subject._ ---- _some historical account of guinea, its situation, produce, and the general disposition of its inhabitants. with an inquiry into the rise and progress of the slave trade, its nature and lamentable effects._ (london, .) birney, james g. _the american churches, the bulwarks of american slavery, by an american._ (newburyport, .) birney, william. _james g. birney and his times. the genesis of the republican party, with some account of the abolition movements in the south before ._ (new york, .) bourne, william o. _history of the public school society of the city of new york, with portraits of the presidents of the society._ (new york, .) brackett, jeffery r._the negro in maryland. a study of the institution of slavery._ (baltimore, johns hopkins university, ). branagan, thomas. _a preliminary essay on the oppression of the exiled sons of africa, consisting of animadversions on the impolicy and barbarity of the deleterious commerce and subsequent slavery of the human species_. (philadelphia: printed for the author by john w. scott, .) branagan, t. _serious remonstrances addressed to the citizens of the northern states and their representatives, being an appeal to their natural feelings and common sense; consisting of speculations and animadversions, on the recent revival of the slave trade in the american republic_. (philadelphia, .) brown, w.w. _my southern home_. (boston, .) child, lydia maria. _an appeal in favor of that class of americans called africans_. (boston: allen & ticknor, , and new york: j.s. taylor, .) channing, william e. _slavery_. (boston: j. munroe & co., .) ---- _remarks on the slavery question_. (boston: j. munroe & co., .) cobb, t.r.r. _an historical sketch of slavery_. (philadelphia: t. & j.w. johnson, .) ---- _an inquiry into the law of negro slavery in the united states of america. to which is prefixed an historical sketch of slavery by thomas r.r. cobb of georgia_. (philadelphia and savannah, .) coffin, joshua. _an account of some of the principal slave insurrections and others which have occurred or been attempted in the united states and elsewhere during the last two centuries. with various remarks. collected from various sources_. (new york, .) conway, moncure daniel. _testimonies concerning slavery_. (london: chapman & hall, .) the author was a native of virginia. culp, d.w. _twentieth century negro literature, or a cyclopedia of thought, vital topics relating to the american negro by one hundred of america's greatest negroes_. (toronto, naperville, ill., and atlanta, ga., .) de bow, j.d.b. _industrial resources of the southern and western states_. (new orleans, - .) delany, m.r. _the condition of the colored people in united states_. (boston, .) dresser, amos. _the narrative of amos dresser with stone's letters from natchez--an obituary notice of the writer and two letters from tallahassee relating to the treatment of slaves_. (new york, .) drewery, william sidney. _slave insurrections in virginia, - ._ (washington, .) dubois, w.e.b. _the philadelphia negro._ (philadelphia, .) ---- _the suppression of the african slave trade to the united states of america, - ._ harvard historical studies, vol. i. (new york, london, and bombay, .) ---- atlanta university publications, _the negro common school._ (atlanta, .) ---- _the college-bred negro._ (atlanta, .) ---- _the negro church._ (atlanta, .) ---- and dill, a.g. _the college-bred negro american._ (atlanta, .) ---- _the common school and the negro american._ (atlanta, .) ---- _the negro american artisan._ (atlanta, .) elliott, rev. charles. _history of the great secession from the methodist episcopal church, etc._ _exposition of the object and plan of the american union for the relief and improvement of the colored race._ (boston, .) fee, john g. _anti-slavery manual._ (maysville, .) fish, c.r. _guide to the materials for american history in roman and other italian archives._ (washington, d.c., carnegie institution, .) franklin, benjamin. _the writings of benjamin franklin collected and edited with a life and introduction by albert henry smyth._ (new york, - .) frost, w.g. "appalachian america." in vol. i. of _the americana_ (new york, .) garnett, h.h. _the past and present condition and the destiny of the colored race._ (troy, .) goodloe, d.r. _the southern platform._ (boston, .) gr�goire, bishop. _de la littêrature des nègres._ (paris, .) translated and published by d.b. warden at brooklyn, in . harrison, samuel alexander. _wenlock christison, and the early friends in talbot county, maryland._ a paper read before the maryland historical society, march , . (baltimore, .) henson, josiah. _the life of josiah henson._ (boston, .) hickok, charles thomas. _the negro in ohio_, - . (cleveland, .) hodgkin, thomas a. _inquiry into the merits of the american colonization society and reply to the charges brought against it, with an account of the british african colonization society_. (london, .) holland, edwin c. _refutation of calumnies circulated against the southern and western states_. (charleston, .) howe, samuel g. _the refugees from slavery in canada west. report to the freedmen's inquiry committee_. (boston, .) ingle, edward. _the negro in the district of columbia_. (johns hopkins studies in historical and political sciences, vol. xi., baltimore, .) jay, john. _the correspondence and public papers of john jay, first chief justice of the united states and president of the continental congress, member of the commission to negotiate the treaty of independence, envoy to great britain, governor of new york, etc_., - . (new york and london, .) edited by henry p. johnson, professor of history in the college of the city of new york. jay, william. _an inquiry into the character and tendencies of the american colonization and american anti-slavery societies_. second edition. (new york, .) jefferson, thomas. the writings of thomas jefferson. memorial edition. autobiography, notes on virginia, parliamentary manual, official papers, messages and addresses, and other writings official and private, etc. (washington, .) johns hopkins university studies in historical and political science. h.b. adams, editor. (baltimore, johns hopkins press.) jones, c.c. _a catechism of scripture, doctrine, and practice_. (philadelphia, .) kirk, edward e. _educated labor, etc_. (new york, .) langston, john m. _from the virginia plantation to the national capital; or, the first and only negro representative in congress from the old dominion_. (hartford, .) _l'esclavage dans les �tats confédérés par un missionaire_. deuxième édition. (paris, .) locke, m.s. _anti-slavery in america, from the introduction of african slaves to the prohibition of the slave trade_, - . radcliffe college monographs, no. . (boston, .) long, j.d. _pictures of slavery in church and state, including personal reminiscences, biographical sketches, anecdotes, etc., with appendix containing the views of john wesley and richard watson on slavery_. (philadelphia, .) lowery, woodbury. _the spanish settlements within the present limits of the united states. florida_, - . (new york and london, .) madison, james. _letters and other writings of james madison published by order of congress_. four volumes. (philadelphia, .) mallary, r.o. _maybank: some memoirs of a southern christian household; family life of c.c. jones_. may, s.j. _some recollections of our anti-slavery conflict_. mcleod, alexander. _negro slavery unjustifiable. a discourse by the late alexander mcleod, , with an appendix_. (new york, .) meade, bishop william. _old churches, ministers, and families, of virginia_. (philadelphia, .) monroe, james. _the writings of james monroe, including a collection of his public and private papers and correspondence now for the first time printed, edited by s.m. hamilton_. (boston, .) moore, george h. _notes on the history of slavery in massachusetts by george h. moore, librarian of the new york historical society and corresponding member of the massachusetts historical society_. (new york, .) morgan, thomas j. _the negro in america_. (philadelphia, .) needles, edward. _ten years' progress, or a comparison of the state and condition of the colored people in the city and county of philadelphia from to _. (philadelphia, .) othello (pseudonym). "essays on negro slavery." published in _the american museum_ in . othello was a free negro. ovington, m.w. _half-a-man_. (new york, .) treats of the negro in the state of new york. a few pages are devoted to the education of the colored people. parrish, john. _remarks on the slavery of the black people; addressed to the citizens of the united states, particularly to those who are in legislative or executive stations in the general or state governments; and also to such individuals as hold them in bondage_. (philadelphia, .) plumer, w.s. _thoughts on the religious instruction of the negroes of this country_. (savannah, .) plymouth colony, new. _records of the colony of new plymouth in new england_. printed by order of the legislature of the commonwealth of massachusetts. edited by nathaniel b. shurtleff, member of the massachusetts historical society, and fellow of the antiquarians of london. (boston, .) porteus, bishop beilby. _the works of the rev. beilby porteus, d.d., late bishop of london, with his life by the rev. robert hodgson, a.m., f.r.s., rector of st. george's, hanover square, and one of the chaplains in ordinary to his majesty_. a new edition in six volumes. (london, .) power, rev. john h. _review of the lectures of william a. smith, d.d., on the philosophy and practice of slavery as exhibited in the institution of domestic slavery in the united states, with the duties of masters to slaves in a series of letters addressed to the author_. (cincinnati, .) quaker pamphlet. rice, david. _slavery inconsistent with justice and good policy: proved by a speech delivered in the convention held at danville, kentucky_. (philadelphia, , and london, .) scober, j. _negro apprenticeship in the colonies_. (london, .) secker, thomas. _the works of the right reverend thomas seeker, archbishop of canterbury with a review of his life and character by b. porteus_. (new edition in six volumes, london, .) siebert, wilbur h. _the underground railroad from slavery to freedom, by w.h. siebert, associate professor of history in the ohio state university, with an introduction by a.b. hart_. (new york, .) smith, william a. _lectures on the philosophy and practice of slavery as exhibited in the institution of domestic slavery in the united states, with the duties of masters to slaves_. (nashville, tenn., .) doctor smith was the president and professor of moral and intellectual philosophy of randolph-macon college. _slavery and the internal slave trade in the united states of america, being inquiries to questions transmitted by the committee of the british and foreign anti-slavery society for the abolition of slavery and the slave trade throughout the world. presented to the general anti-slavery convention held in london, june, , by the executive committee of the american anti-slavery society._ (london, .) _the enormity of the slave trade and the duty of seeking the moral and spiritual elevation of the colored race._ (new york.) this work includes speeches of wilberforce and other documents. _the jesuit relations and allied documents, travels, and explorations of the jesuit missionaries in new france, - . the original french, latin, and italian texts with english translations and notes; illustrated by portraits, maps, and facsimiles. edited by reuben gold thwaites, secretary of the state historical society of wisconsin._ (cleveland, .) _the south vindicated from the treason and fanaticism of the northern abolitionists._ (philadelphia, .) thompson, george. _speech at the meeting for the extinction of negro apprenticeship._ (london, .) ---- _the free church alliance with manstealers. send back the money. great anti-slavery meeting in the city hall, glasgow, containing the speeches delivered by messrs. wright, douglass, and buffum, from america, and by george thompson of london, with a summary account of a series of meetings held in edinburgh by the abovenamed gentlemen._ (glasgow, .) torrey, jesse, jr. _a portraiture of domestic slavery in the united states, with reflections on the practicability of restoring the moral rights of the slave, without impairing the legal privileges of the possessor, and a project of a colonial asylum for free persons of color, including memoirs of facts on the interior traffic in slaves, and on kidnapping, illustrated with engravings by jesse torrey, jr., physician, author of a series of essays on morals and the diffusion of knowledge._ (philadelphia, .) ---- _american infernal slave trade; with reflections on the project for forming a colony of blacks in africa_. (london, .) tower, philo. _slavery unmasked: being a truthful narrative of three years' residence and journeying in eleven southern states; to which is added "the invasion of kansas," including the last chapter of her wrongs_. (rochester, .) turner, e.r. _the negro in pennsylvania_. (washington, .) _tyrannical libertymen: a discourse upon negro slavery in the united states; composed at---- in new hampshire; on the late federal thanksgiving day_. (hanover, n.h., .) van evrie, john h. _negroes and negro slavery_, by j.h. van evrie, m.d. _introductory chapter: causes of popular delusion on the subject_. (washington, .) ---- _white supremacy and negro subordination; or, negroes a subordinate race, and so-called slavery its normal condition. with an appendix showing the past and present condition of the countries south of us_. (new york, .) walker, david. _walker's appeal in four articles, together with a preamble, to the colored citizens of the world, but in particular and very expressly to those of the united states of america. written in boston, state of massachusetts, september_ , . second edition. (boston, .) walker was a negro who hoped to arouse his race to self-assertion. washington, b.t. _the story of the negro_. two volumes (new york, .) washington, george. _the writings of george washington, being his correspondence, addresses, messages, and other papers, official and private, selected and published from the original manuscripts with the life of the author, notes and illustrations, by jared sparks_. (boston, .) weeks, stephen b. _southern quakers and slavery. a study in institutional history_. (baltimore, the johns hopkins press, .) ---- _the anti-slavery sentiment in the south; with unpublished letters from john stuart mill and mrs. stowe_. (southern history association publications. volume ii., no. , washington, d. c, april, .) wesley, john. _thoughts upon slavery. in the potent enemies of america laid open.... london, printed: reprinted in philadelphia with notes, and sold by joseph cruikshank_. . wigham, eliza. _the anti-slavery cause in america and its martyrs_. (london, .) williams, george w. _history of the negro race in the united states from - . negroes as slaves, as soldiers, and as citizens: together with a preliminary consideration of the unity of the human family, an historical sketch of africa and an account of the negro governments of sierra leone and liberia_. (new york, .) woolman, john. _the works of john woolman. in two parts. part i: a journal of the life, gospel-labors, and christian experiences of that faithful minister of christ, john woolman, late of mount holly, in the province of new jersey_. (london, .) ---- _same. part second. containing his last epistle and other writings_. (london, .) ---- _some considerations on the keeping of negroes. recommended to the professors of christianity of every denomination_. (philadelphia, .) ---- _considerations on keeping negroes; recommended to the professors of christianity of every denomination. part second_. (philadelphia, .) wright, r.r., jr. _the negro in pennsylvania_. (philadelphia, .) magazines _the abolitionist, or record of the new england anti-slavery society_. edited by a committee. appeared in january, . _the african methodist episcopal church review_. valuable for the following articles: "the colored public schools of washington," by james storum, vol. v., p. . "the negro as an inventor," by r.r. wright, vol. ii., p. . "negro poets," vol. iv., p. . "the negro in journalism," vols. vi., , and xx., . _the african repository_. published by the american colonization society from to . a very good source for the development of negro education both in this country and liberia. some of its most valuable articles are: "learn trades or starve," by frederick douglass, vol. xxix., pp. and . taken from frederick douglass's paper. "education of the colored people," by a highly respectable gentleman of the south, vol. xxx., pp. , , and . "elevation of the colored race," a memorial circulated in north carolina, vol. xxxi., pp. and . "a lawyer for liberia," a sketch of garrison draper, vol. xxxiv., pp. and . numerous articles on the religious instruction of the negroes occur throughout the foregoing volumes. information about the actual literary training of the colored people is given as news items. _the american museum_, or _repository of ancient and modern fugitive pieces, etc., prose and poetical_. vols. i.-iv. (first and second editions, philadelphia, . third edition, philadelphia, .) contains some interesting essays on the intellectual status of the negroes, etc., contributed by "othello," a free negro. _the colonizationist and journal of freedom_. the author has been able to find only the volume which contains the numbers for the year . _the crisis_. a record of the darker races published by the national association for the advancement of colored people. _the maryland journal of colonization_. published as the official organ of the maryland colonization society. among its important articles are: "the capacities of the negro race," vol. iii., p. ; and "the educational facilities of liberia," vol. vii., p. . _the non-slaveholder_. two volumes of this publication are now found in the library of congress. _the school journal_. _the southern workman_. volume xxxvii. contains dr. r.r. wright's valuable dissertation on "negro rural communities in indiana." newspapers district of columbia. _the daily national intelligencer_. louisiana _the new orleans commercial bulletin._ maryland. _the maryland journal and baltimore advertiser._ _the maryland gazette._ _dunlop's maryland gazette_ or _the baltimore advertiser._ massachusetts. _the liberator._ new york. _the new york daily advertiser._ _the new york tribune._ north carolina. _the state gazette of north carolina._ _the newbern gazette._ pennsylvania. _the philadelphia gazette._ south carolina. _the city gazette and commercial daily advertiser._ _the state gazette of south carolina._ _the charleston courier._ _the south carolina weekly advertiser._ _the carolina gazette._ _the columbian herald._ virginia. _the richmond enquirer._ _the norfolk and portsmouth herald._ _the virginia herald._ (fredericksburg.) _the norfolk and portsmouth chronicle._ laws, digests, charters, constitutions, and reports general code noir ou recueil d'édits, déclarations et arrêts concernant la discipline et le commerce des esclaves nègres des isles françaises de l'amérique (in recueils de réglemens, édits, déclarations et arrêts, concernant le commerce, l'administration de la justice et la police des colonies françaises de l'amérique, et les engagés avec le code noir, et l'addition audit code). (paris, .) goodell, william. _the american slave code in theory and practice: its distinctive features shown by its statutes, judicial decisions, and illustrative facts._ (new york, .) peters, richard. _condensed reports of cases argued and adjudged in the supreme court of the united states._ six volumes. (philadelphia, - .) thorpe, f.n. _federal and state constitution, colonial charters, and other organic laws of the states, territories, and colonies now or heretofore forming the united states of america. compiled and edited under an act of congress, june , ._ (washington, .) state alabama. _acts of the general assembly passed by the state of alabama._ clay, c.c. _digest of the laws of the state of alabama to ._ (tuscaloosa, .) connecticut. _public acts passed by the general assembly of connecticut._ delaware. _laws of the state of delaware passed by the general assembly._ district of columbia. burch, samuel. _a digest of the laws of the corporation of the city of washington, with an appendix of the laws of the united states relating to the district of columbia._ (washington, .) florida. _acts of the legislative council of the territory of florida._ _acts and resolutions of the general assembly of the state of florida._ georgia. _laws of the state of georgia._ cobb, howell. _a digest of the statutes of georgia in general use to ._ (new york, .) dawson, william. _a compilation of the laws of the state of georgia to ._ (milledgeville, .) prince, o.h. _a digest of the laws of the state of georgia to ._ (athens, .) illinois. _laws of the state of illinois passed by the general assembly._ starr, m., and russell h. curtis. _annotated statutes of illinois in force, january , ._ indiana. _laws of a general nature passed by the state of indiana._ kentucky. _acts of the general assembly of the commonwealth of kentucky._ louisiana. _acts passed by the legislature of the state of louisiana._ bullard, henry a., and thomas curry. _a new digest of the statute laws of the state of louisiana to ._ (new orleans, .) maryland. _laws made and passed by the general assembly of the state of maryland._ massachusetts. _acts and resolves passed by the general court of massachusetts._ quincy, josiah, jr. _reports of cases, superior court of judicature of the province of massachusetts bay, - ._ (boston, .) mississippi. _laws of the state of mississippi passed at the regular sessions of the legislature._ poindexter, george. _revised code of the laws of mississippi._ (natchez, .) hutchinson, a. _code of mississippi._ (jackson, .) missouri. _acts of the general assembly of the state of missouri._ new jersey. _acts of the general assembly of the state of new jersey._ new york. _laws of the state of new york._ ohio. _acts of a general nature passed by the general assembly of the state of ohio._ _acts of a local nature passed by the general assembly of the state of ohio._ pennsylvania. _laws of the general assembly of the state of pennsylvania._ brightly, frank f. _a digest of the laws of pennsylvania._ stroud, g.m. _purdon's digest of the laws of pennsylvania from to ._ (philadelphia, .) rhode island. _acts and resolves passed by the general assembly of the state of rhode island and providence plantations._ south carolina. _acts and resolutions of the general assembly of the state of south carolina._ brevard, joseph. _an alphabetical digest of the public statute laws of south carolina from to ._ three volumes. (charleston, .) tennessee. _acts of the general assembly of the state of tennessee._ virginia. _acts of the general assembly of virginia._ hening, w.w. _statutes at large: a collection of all the laws of virginia from the first session of the legislature in the year ._ (richmond, to .) published pursuant to an act of the general assembly of virginia, passed on the th of february, . the work was extended by s. shepherd who published three additional volumes in . chief source of historical material for the history of virginia. tate, joseph. _a digest of the laws of virginia._ (richmond, .) index abdy, e.s., learned that slaves were taught abolitionists, interested in the enlightenment of negroes account of a pious negro actual education after the revolutionary period adams, rev. henry, teacher at louisville adams, john, report of james otis's argument on the writs of assistance; views on slavery address of the american convention of abolition societies african benevolent society of rhode island, school of african episcopalians of philadelphia, school of african free school of baltimore african free schools of new york african methodist episcopal church, established union seminary; purchased wilberforce agricultural convention of georgia recommended that slaves be taught to read alabama, law of ; provision for teaching negroes at mobile; presbyterians of, interested albany normal school, colored student admitted alexandria, virginia quakers of, instructed negroes; benjamin davis, a teacher of allen, richard, organized a.m.e. church; author allen, w.h., teacher of negroes ambush, james e., teacher in the district of columbia american colonization society, the, efforts of, to educate negroes american convention of abolition societies, the, interested in the education of negroes; recommended industrial education; addresses of american union, the, organized; names of its promoters (see note on page ) amherstburg, canada, opened a colored school; established a mission school anderson, john g., musician andrew, one of the first two colored teachers in carolina andrews, c.c. principal of new york african free schools andrews, e.a., student of the needs of the negroes anti-slavery agitation, effect of, on education in cities appalachian mountains, settled by people favorable to negroes appo, william, musician arnett, b.w., teacher in pennsylvania ashmun institute, founded; names of the trustees athens college, admitted colored students attainments of negroes at the close of the eighteenth century auchmutty, reverend, connected with the school established by elias neau augusta, dr. a.t., learned to read in virginia avery college, established avery, rev. charles, donor of $ , for the education and christianization of the african race bacon, rev. thomas, sermons on the instruction of negroes baldwin county, alabama, provision for teaching negroes baltimore, several colored churches; colored schools of; an adult school of pupils; sunday-schools; day and night school; bible society; african free school; donation of wells; donation of crane; school tax paid by negroes, note on page---- banks, henry, learned to read in virginia banneker, benjamin, studied in maryland; made a clock; took up astronomy; encouraged by ellicott; corresponded with thomas jefferson baptist preacher, taught negroes in south carolina baptists, aided the education of negroes; established school at bexley, liberia; changed attitude toward the uplift of negroes barclay, david, gave money to build school-house barclay, reverend, instructed negroes in new york barr, john w., taught m.w. taylor in kentucky baxter, richard, instructed masters to enlighten their slaves beard, simeon, had a school in charleston becraft, maria, established a school in the district of columbia bell family, progress of bell, george, built first colored school-house in district of columbia bell school established benezet, anthony, advocated the education of negroes; taught negroes; believed in western colonization; opinion on negro intellect; bequeathed wealth to educate negroes; school-house built with the fund;(see note giving sketch of his career) berea college, founded berkshire medical school had trouble admitting negroes; graduated colored physicians berry's portraiture of the negroes' condition after the reaction bibb, mary e., taught at windsor, canada billings, maria, taught in the district of columbia birney, james g., criticized the church; helped negroes on free soil bishop, josiah, preached to white congregation in portsmouth, virginia bishop of london, declared that the conversion of slaves did not work manumission "black friday," portsmouth, ohio, negroes driven out blackstone, studied to justify the struggle for the rights of man; his idea of the body politic forgotten bleecker, john, interested in the new york african free schools boone, r.g., sketch of education in indiana boston, massachusetts, colored school opened; opened its first primary school; school in african church; several colored churches; struggle for democratic education; (see also massachusetts) boucher, jonathan, interested in the uplift of negroes; an advocate of education; (see note on, ); extract from address of boulder, j.f., student in a mixed school in delaware bowditch, h.j., asked that negroes be admitted to boston public schools bowdoin college, admitted a negro bradford, james t., studied at pittsburgh branagan advocated colonization of the negroes in the west bray, dr. thomas, a promoter of the education of negroes; "associates of dr. bray,"; plan of, for the instruction of negroes brearcroft, dr., alluded to the plan for the enlightenment of negroes breckenridge, john, contributed to the education of the colored people of baltimore bremer, fredrika, found colored schools in the south; observed the teaching of slaves british american manual labor institute, established at dawn, canada brown, a graduate of harvard college, taught colored children in boston brown county, ohio, colored schools of, established brown, jeremiah h., studied at pittsburgh brown, j.m., attended school in delaware brown, william wells, author; leader and educator browning family, progress of bruce, b.k., learned to read, bryan, andrew, preacher in georgia buchanan, george, on mental capacity of negroes buffalo, colored methodist and baptist churches of, lost members burke, e.p., found enlightened negroes in the south mentioned case of a very intelligent negro burlington, new jersey, quakers of, interested in the uplift of the colored people butler, bishop, urged the instruction of negroes buxton, canada, separate schools established in caesar, a negro poet of north carolina calvert, mr., an englishman who taught negroes in the district of columbia camden insurrection, effect of cameron, paul c., sketch of john chavis canaan, new hampshire, academy broken up canada, education of negroes in; names of settlements with schools; difficulties of races; separate schools; mission schools; results obtained; (see drew's note on condition of) capers, bishop william, opinion on reconstructing the policy of negro education; plan of, to instruct negroes; work of, among the colored people; catechism of cardozo, f.l., entered school in charleston carey, lott, educated himself cass county, michigan, school facilities in the colored settlement of castleton medical school, admitted negroes catholics, interested in the education of negroes catto, rev. william t., author and preacher cephas, uncle, learned from white children chandler, solicitor, of boston, opinion on the segregation of colored pupils channing, william, criticized the church for its lack of interest in the uplift of the negroes charleston, colored members of church of; minor society of; colored schools of, attended by bishop daniel a. payne; insurrection of; theological seminary of, admitted a negro charlton, reverend, friend of negroes in new york chatham, canada, colored schools of chavis, john, educated at princeton; a teacher of white youths in north carolina chester, t. morris, student at pittsburgh chicago, separate schools of; disestablished child, m.e., teacher in canada churches, aided education through sabbath-schools christians not to be held as slaves cincinnati, colored schools of; negroes of; sought public support for their schools; a teacher of, excluded a colored boy from a public school; law of city, the influences of, on the education of negroes; attitude of anti-slavery societies of, toward the education of the negroes clapp, margaret, aided myrtilla miner in the district of columbia; (see note ) clarkson hall schools of philadelphia clarkson, matthew, a supporter of the new york african free schools cleveland, c.f., argument of, in favor of connecticut law against colored schools cleveland, colored schools of code noir, referred to; (see note, ) co-education of the races coffin, levi, taught negroes in north carolina; promoted the migration of negroes to free soil; traveled in canada coffin, vestal, assistant of his father in north carolina cogswell, james, aided the new york african free schools coker, daniel, a teacher in baltimore colbura, zerah, a calculator who tested thomas fuller colchester, canada, mission school at cole, edward, made settlement of negroes in illinois colgan, reverend; connected with neau's school in new york college of west africa established colleges, negroes not admitted; manual labor idea of; change in attitude of colonization scheme, influence of, on education colonizationists, interest of, in the education of negroes colored mechanics, prejudice against; slight increase in columbia, pennsylvania, quakers of, interested in the uplift of negroes columbian institute established in the district of columbia columbus, ohio, colored schools of condition of negroes, in the eighteenth century; at the close of the reaction connecticut, defeated the proposed manual labor college at new haven; spoken of as place for a colored school of the american colonization society; allowed separate schools at hartford; inadequately supported colored schools; struggle against separate schools of; disestablishment of separate schools of convention of free people of color, effort to establish a college convent of oblate sisters of providence, educated colored girls in academy of cook, john f., teacher in the district of columbia; forced by the snow riot to go to pennsylvania corbin, j.c. student at chillicothe, ohio cornish, alexander, teacher in the district of columbia costin, louisa parke, teacher in the district of columbia cox, ann, teacher in new york african free schools coxe, eliza j., teacher in the new york african free schools coxe, general, of fluvanna county, virginia, taught his slaves to read the bible coxe, r.s., a supporter of hays's school in the district of columbia crandall, prudence, admitted colored girls to her academy; opposed by whites; law against her enacted; arrested, imprisoned, and tried; abandoned her school crane, william, erected a building for the education of negroes in baltimore crummell, alexander, sought admission to the academy at canaan, new hampshire cuffee, paul, author d'alone, contributor to a fund for the education of negroes dartmouth, theological school of, admitted negroes davies, reverend, teacher of negroes in virginia davis, benjamin, taught negroes in alexandria, virginia davis, cornelius, teacher of new york african free schools davis, rev. daniel, interest of, in the uplift of the people of color dawn, canada, colored schools of dawson, joseph, aided colored schools dean, rev. philotas, principal of avery college de baptiste, richard, student in a school at his father's home in fredericksburg de grasse, dr. john v., educated for liberia delany, m.r., attended school at pittsburgh delaware, abolition society of, provided for the education of the negroes; law of ; law of detroit, african baptist church of; separate schools of dialogue on the enlightenment of negroes about district of columbia, separate schools of; churches of, contributed to education of negroes douglass, mrs., a white teacher of negroes in norfolk douglass, frederick, learned to read; leader and advocate of education; author; opinion of, on vocational education; extract from paper of douglass, sarah, teacher of philadelphia dove, dr., owner of dr. james durham dow, dr. jesse e., co-worker of charles middleton of the district of columbia draper, garrison, studied law after getting education at dartmouth; an account of drew, benjamin, note of, on canada; found prejudice in schools of canada duncan, benedict, taught by his father durham, james, a colored physician of new orleans dwight, sarah, teacher of colored girls _�dit du'roi_, _education of colored people_, education of colored children at public expense, (see also chapter xiii,) edwards, mrs. haig, interest of, in the uplift of slaves, eliot, rev. john, appeal in behalf of the conversion of slaves, ellis, harrison, educated blacksmith, ellsworth, w.w., argument of, against the constitutionality of the connecticut law prohibiting the establishment of colored schools, emancipation of slaves, effects of, on education, emlen institute established in ohio, emlen, samuel, philanthropist, england, ministers of the church of, maintained a school for colored children at newport, english colonial church established mission schools in canada, english high school established at monrovia, essay of bishop porteus, established church of england directed attention to the uplift of the slaves, everly, mentioned resolutions bearing on the instruction of slaves, evidences of the development of the intellect of negroes, falmouth colored sunday-school broken up, fawcett, benjamin, address to negroes of virginia, extract from, fee, rev. john g., criticized church because it neglected the negroes, founded berea college, fleet, dr. john, educated for liberia, teacher in the district of columbia, fleetwood, bishop, urged that negroes be instructed, (see note on p.) fletcher, mr. and mrs., teachers in the district of columbia, flint, rev. james, received letters bearing on the teaching of negroes, florida, law of, unfavorable to the enlightenment of negroes, a more stringent law of, foote, john p., praised the colored schools of cincinnati, ford, george, a virginia lady who taught pupils of color in the district of columbia, fort maiden, canada, schools of, fortie, john, teacher in baltimore, fothergill, on colonization, fox, george, urged quakers to instruct the colored people, franklin college, new athens, ohio, admitted colored students, franklin, benjamin, aided the teachers of negroes, franklin, nicholas, helped to build first schoolhouse for colored children in the district of columbia, frederic, francis, taught by his master, free schools not sought at first by negroes, freeman, m.h., teacher; principal of avery college french, the language of, taught in colored schools; educated negroes friends, minutes of the meetings of, bearing on the instruction of negroes fugitive slave law, effects of fuller, james c, left a large sum for the education of negroes fuller, thomas, noted colored mathematician gabriel's insurrection, effect of gaines, john i., led the fight for colored trustees in cincinnati, ohio gallia county, ohio, school of gardner, newport, teacher in rhode island garnett, h.h., was to be a student at canaan, new hampshire; author; president of avery college garrison, wm. lloyd, appeal of, in behalf of the education of negroes; speech of, on education; solicited funds for colored manual labor school geneva college, change in attitude of georgetown, teachers and schools of georgia, prohibitive legislation of; objections of the people of, to the education of negroes; colored mechanics of, opposed; presbyterians of, taught negroes; slaveholders of, in agricultural convention urged the enlightenment of negroes gettysburg theological seminary, admitted a negro gibson, bishop, of london, appeal in behalf of the neglected negroes; letters of giles county, tennessee, colored preacher of, pastor of a white church gilmore, rev. h., established a high school in cincinnati gist, samuel, made settlement of negroes gloucester, new jersey, quakers of, interested in teaching negroes gloucester, john, preacher in philadelphia goddard, calvin, argument of, against the constitutionality of the law prohibiting colored schools in connecticut goodwyn, morgan, urged that negroes be elevated grant, nancy, teacher in the district of columbia green, charles henry, studied in delaware greenfield, eliza, musician gregg of virginia, settled his slaves on free soil grégoire, h., on the mental capacity of negroes grimké brothers, students in charleston haddonfield, new jersey, quakers of, instructed negroes haiti and santo domingo, influence of the revolution of halgy, mrs., teacher in the district of columbia hall, a graduate of harvard university, teacher in the boston colored school, hall, anna maria, student in alexandria, teacher, hall, primus, established a colored school at his home in boston, hamilton, alexander, advocate of the rights of man, hampton, fannie, teacher in district of columbia, hancock, richard m., studied at newberne, hanover college, indiana, accepted colored students, harlan, robert, learned to read in kentucky, harper, chancellor, views of, on the instruction of negroes, harper, frances e.w., poet, harper, john, took his slaves from north carolina to ohio and liberated them, harry, one of the first two colored teachers in carolina, hartford, separate schools of, dissatisfaction of the negroes of, with poor school facilities, struggle of some citizens of, against caste in education, separate schools of, disestablished, haviland, laura a., teacher in canada, hays, alexander, teacher in district of columbia, haynes, lemuel, pastor of a white church, heathenism, negroes reduced to, henry, patrick, views of, on the rights of man, henson, rev. josiah, leader and educator, higher education of negroes urged by free people of color, change in the attitude of some negroes toward, promoted in the district of columbia, in pennsylvania, in ohio, hildreth, connected with neau's school in new york, hill, margaret, teacher in the district of columbia, hillsborough, north carolina, influence of the insurrection of, homeopathic college, cleveland, admitted colored students, horton, george, poet, huddlestone, connected with neau's school, humphreys, richard, gave $ , to educate negroes, hunter, john a., attended a mixed school, illinois, schools of, for benefits of whites, separate schools of, a failure, unfavorable legislation of, separate schools of, disestablished, indiana, schools in colored settlements of, attitude of, toward the education of the colored people, prohibitive legislation of, industrial education recommended, industrial revolution, effect of, on education, inman, anna, assistant of myrtilla miner, institute for colored youth established at philadelphia, institute of easton, pennsylvania, admitted a negro, instruction, change in meaning of the word inventions of negroes; (see note ) insurrections, slave, effect of iowa, negroes of, had good school privileges jackson, edmund, demanded the admission of colored pupils to boston schools jackson, stonewall, teacher in a colored sunday-school jackson, william, musician jay, john, a friend of the negroes jay, william, criticized the church for its failure to elevate the negroes; attacked the policy of the colonizationists jefferson college, pennsylvania, admitted negroes jefferson, thomas, views of, on the education of negroes; (see note); letter of, to abbé h. grégoire; letter to m.a. julien; failed to act as kosciuszko's executor; corresponded with banneker jesuits, french, instructed slaves jesuits, spanish, teachers of negroes johnson, harriet c., assistant at avery college johnson, john thomas, teacher in the district of columbia; teacher in pittsburgh jones, alfred t., learned to read in kentucky jones, anna, aided myrtilla miner jones, arabella, teacher in the district of columbia jones, rev. c.c., a white preacher among negroes of georgia; argument of, for the religious instruction of negroes; catechism of, for religious instruction; estimate of those able to read jones, matilda, supported myrtilla miner journalistic efforts of negroes; (see note) judson, a.t., denounced prudence crandall's policy; upheld the law prohibiting the establishment of colored schools in connecticut keith, george, advocated religious training for the negroes kemble, frances anne, discovered that the negroes of some masters were taught to read; (see note ) kentucky, negroes of, learned the rudiments of education; work of the emancipating labor society of; work of the presbyterians of; public opinion of; colored schools of kinkaid, j.b., taught m.w. taylor of kentucky knoxville, people of, favorable to the uplift of the colored race kosciuszko, t., plan of, to educate negroes; (see note); will of; fund of lafayette, marquis de, visited new york african free schools; said to be interested in a colored school in the west lancastrian method of instruction, effect of lane seminary, students of, taught negroes langston, j.m., student at chillicothe and oberlin latin, taught in a colored school law, rev. josiah, instructed negroes in georgia; (see note ) lawrence, nathaniel, supporter of new york colored schools _lawyer for liberia_, a document lawyers, colored, recognized in the north; (see note ) lay, benjamin, advocate of the instruction of slaves leary, john s., went to private school lee, thomas, a teacher in the district of columbia leile, george, preacher in georgia and jamaica le jeune, taught a little negro in canada le petit instructed negroes lewis, r.b., author lexington, kentucky, colored school of; (see note , p. ) liberia, education of negroes for; education of negroes in liberia college, founded liberty county, georgia, instruction of negroes in liverpool, moses, one of the founders of the first colored school in the district of columbia livingston, w., teacher in baltimore locke, john, influence of lockhart, daniel j., instructed by white boys london, bishop of, formal declarations of, abrogating the law that a christian could not be held a slave london, canada, private school; mission school longworth, nicholas, built a school-house for negroes louisiana, education of negroes in; hostile legislation of; bishop polk of, on instruction of negroes louisville, kentucky, colored schools of l'ouverture, toussaint, influence of lowell, massachusetts, colored schools of; disestablished lowry, rev. samuel, taught by rev. talbot of franklin college lowth, bishop, interested in the uplift of the heathen lucas, eliza, teacher of slaves lundy, benjamin, helped negroes on free soil lunenburg county, virginia, colored congregation of madison, james, on the education of negroes; letter of maine, separate school of malone, rev. j.w., educated in indiana malvin, john, organized schools in ohio cities mangum, p.h., and w.p., pupils of john chavis, a colored teacher manly, gov. charles, of north carolina, taught by john chavis mann, lydia, aided myrtilla miner, manual labor college, demand for, manumission, effect of the laws of, martin, martha, sent to cincinnati to be educated, sister sent to a southern town to learn a trade, maréchal, rev. ambrose, helped to maintain colored schools, maryland, abolition society of, to establish an academy for negroes, favorable conditions, public opinion against the education of negroes, law of, against colored mechanics, maryville theological seminary, students of, interested in the uplift of negroes, mason, joseph t. and thomas h., teachers in the district of columbia, massachusetts, schools of, struggles for democratic education, disestablishment of separate schools, mather, cotton, on the instruction of negroes, resolutions of, matlock, white, interest of, in negroes, maule, ebenezer, helped to found a colored school in virginia, may, rev. samuel, defender of prudence crandall, mccoy, benjamin, teacher in the district of columbia, mcdonogh, john, had educated slaves, mcintosh county, georgia, religious instruction of negroes, mcleod, dr., criticized the inhumanity of men to negroes, meade, bishop william, interested in the elevation of negroes, work of, in virginia, followed bacon's policy, collected literature on the instruction of negroes, means, supported myrtilla miner, mechanics, opposed colored artisans, medical school of harvard university open to colored students, medical school of the university of new york admitted colored students, memorial to legislature of north carolina, the education of slaves urged, methodist preacher in south carolina, work of, stopped by the people, methodists, enlightened negroes, change in attitude of, founded wilberforce, michigan, negroes admitted to schools of, middleton, charles, teacher in the district of columbia, miles, mary e.. assistant of gilmore in cincinnati, milton, influence of, miner, myrtilla, teacher in the district of columbia, founded a school, minor society of charleston established a school for negroes, minority report of boston school committee opposed segregation of colored pupils, minutes of methodist episcopal conference, resolution on the instruction of negroes minutes of the meetings of friends, action taken to elevate the colored people missionaries, english, interested in uplift of negroes french spanish missouri, prohibitive legislation of mitchell, john g., student in indiana mitchell, s.t., began his education in indiana mobile, provision for the education of the negroes montgomery, i.t., educated under the direction of his master moore, edward w., teacher, and author of an arithmetic moore, helen, helped myrtilla miner moorland, dr. j.e., an uncle of, studied medicine moravian brethren, instructed colored people morris, dr. e. c, instructed by his father morris, j., taught by his white father morris, j.w., student in charleston morris, robert, appointed magistrate murray, john, interested in the new york african free schools nantucket, massachusetts, colored schools of neau, elias, founded a colored school in new york city negroes, learning to read and write free education of learning in spite of opposition instructing white persons reduced to heathenism neill, rev. hugh, missionary teacher of negroes in pennsylvania nell, wm., author new bedford, massachusetts, colored schools of disestablished newbern, north carolina, effects of insurrection of new castle, presbytery of, established ashmun institute new england, schools in anti-slavery society of planned to establish a manual labor college sent colored students to canaan, new hampshire newhall, isabella, excluded a colored boy from school new hampshire, academy of, broken up schools of, apparently free to all new haven, separate schools of colored manual labor college not wanted interested in the education of persons for africa and haiti new jersey, quakers of, endeavored to elevate colored people law of, to teach slaves negroes of, in public schools presbyterians of, interested in negroes separate schools caste in schools abolished new orleans, education of the negroes of newport, rhode island, separate schools new york, quakers of, taught negroes presbyterians of, interested in negroes, work of anti-slavery society of, separate schools of, schools opened to all, new york central college, favorable to negroes, new york city, african free schools, transfer to public school society, transfer to board of education, society of free people of color of, organized a school, newspapers, colored, gave evidence of intellectual progress, (see note ,) north carolina, quakers of, instructed negroes, presbyterians of, interested in the education of negroes, tryon's instructions against certain teachers, manumission societies of, promoting the education of colored people, reactionary laws of, memorial sent to legislature of, for permission to teach slaves, northwest territory, education of transplanted negroes, settlements of, with schools, noxon, connected with neau's school in new york city, nutall, an englishman, taught negroes in new york, oberlin grew out of lane seminary, objections to the instruction of negroes considered and answered, ohio, colored schools of (see cincinnati, columbus, cleveland, and northwest territory); struggle for education at public expense, unfavorable legislation, law of , olmsted, p.l., found a plantation of enlightened slaves, o'neal of south carolina bar discussed with chancellor harper the question of instructing negroes, oneida institute contributed to the education of negroes, oregon, law of, hostile to negroes, othello, a free negro, denounced the policy of neglecting the negroes, otis, james, on the rights of all men, palmer, dr., catechism of, pamphlet, gowan, a preacher in virginia, parry, alfred h., successful teacher, parsons, c.g., observed that some negroes were enlightened, _pastoral letters of bishop gibson of london_, patterson, edward, learned to read in a sabbath-school, payne, dr. c.h., taught by his mother to read, payne, bishop daniel, student in charleston, agent to purchase wilberforce, payne, mrs. thomas, studied under her master, pease, w., instructed by his owner, penn, william, believed in emancipation to afford negroes an opportunity for improvement, pennington, j. c, writer, teacher, and preacher of influence, pennsylvania, work of quakers of, favorable legislation, law of, against colored mechanics, (see also quakers, friends, presbyterians, and philadelphia) perry, r.l., attended school at nashville peterboro school of new york established petersburg, virginia, colored schools of, colored churches pettiford, w.a., attended private school in north carolina philadelphia, negroes of, taught by quakers, early colored schools, public aid secured for the education of negroes, names of teachers public and private, statistics of colored schools, (see quakers, presbyterians, and pennsylvania) phillips, wendell, argument against the segregation of colored people in boston physicians, colored, (see note , ) pinchback, p.b.s., studied in the gilmore high school in cincinnati pinkney, william, views on the mental capacity of negroes _pious negro, true account of_, a document pittsburgh, colored schools of _plan for the improvement of the free black_, a document plantation system, the rise of, effects of, on the enlightenment of the negroes pleasants, robert, founder of a colored manual labor school polk, bishop, of louisiana, advocate of the instruction of negroes porteus, bishop, a portion of his essay on the uplift of negroes (see also, note ) portland, maine, colored schools of potter, henry, taught negroesin the district of columbia preachers, colored, preached to negroes (see note ). preached to white people presbyterians, taught negroes, struggles of, acts of synods of, a document _presbyterian witness_, criticized churchmen neglectful of the negroes _proposition for encouraging the christian education of indian and mulatto children at lambeth, virginia_ protestant episcopal high school at cape palmas, liberia prout, john, a teacher in the district of columbia providence, rhode island, separate schools of providence convent of baltimore, influence of purcell, jack, bearing of the confession of puritans, attitude of, toward the uplift of negroes quakers, educational work among negroes, promoting education in the northwest territory, (see also friends) racial inferiority, the argument of randolph, john, slaves of, sent to ohio raymond, daniel, contributed to the education of negroes reaction, the effect of reason, chas. l., teacher in institute for colored youth redmond, sarah, denied admission to boston school redpath, james, observation in the south refugees from haiti and santo domingo, influence of; bearing of, on insurrection refugees home school established religious instruction discussed by churchmen remond, c.l., lecturer and orator resolute beneficial society established a school revels, u.s. senator hiram, student in quaker seminary rhode island, work of quakers of; efforts of colored people of; african benevolent society of; school laws of; separate schools disestablished rice, rev. david, complained that slaves were not enlightened rice, rev. isaac, mission of, in canada richards, fannie, teacher in detroit riley, mrs. isaac, taught by master riots of cities, effect of roberts, rev. d.r., attended school in indiana rochester, baptist church of, lost members roe, caroline, teacher in new york african free schools rush, dr. benjamin, desire to elevate the slaves; objections of masters considered; interview with dr. james durham; rush medical school admitted colored student russworm, john b., first colored man to graduate from college rutland college, vermont, opened to colored students sabbath-schools, a factor in education; separation of the races st. agnes academy established in the district of columbia st. frances academy established in baltimore salem, massachusetts, colored school of salem, new jersey, work of quakers of sampson, b.k., assistant teacher of avery college samson, rev. dr., aided hays, a teacher of washington sanderson, bishop, interest in the uplift of the heathen sandiford, ralph, attacked slavery sandoval, alfonso, opposed keeping slaves sandwich, canada, separate school of sandy lake settlement broken up saunders of cabell county, west virginia, settled his slaves on free soil savannah, colored schools of churches of scarborough, president w.s., early education of schoepf, johann, found conditions favorable seaman, jacob, interest of, in new york colored schools searing, anna h., a supporter of myrtilla miner seaton, w.w., a supporter of alexander hays's school secker, bishop, plan of, for the instruction of negroes had negroes educated for africa extract from sermon of settle, josiah t., was educated in ohio sewell, chief justice, on the instruction of negroes shadd, mary ann, teacher in canada shaffer, bishop c.t., early education of, in indiana sharp, granville, on the colonization of negroes sidney, thomas, gave money to build school-house slave in essex county, virginia, learned to read slavery, ancient, contrasted with the modern small, robert, student in south carolina smedes, susan dabney, saw slaves instructed smith, gerrit, contributed money to the education of the negro founder of the peterboro school appeal in behalf of colored mechanics smith, melancthon, interest of, in the new york african free schools smothers, henry, founded a school in washington snow riot, results of snowden, john baptist, instructed by white children society for the propagation of the gospel in foreign parts, efforts of south carolina, schools of unfavorable conditions prohibitive legislation governor of, discussed the vesey insurrection spain, king of, desired trade in enlightened slaves only spanish missionaries taught negroes in america springfield, colored schools of statistics on the intellectual condition of negroes stewart, rev., a missionary in north carolina stewart, t. mccants, student in charleston stokes, richard, teacher in the district of columbia storrs, c.b., advocate of free discussion influence of stowe, h.b., assisted myrtilla miner interest of, in industrial education stratton, lucy, taught negroes sturgeon, rev. william, work of, in philadelphia sumler, jas. w., learned to read with difficulty sylvester, elisha, efforts of, in boston tabbs, thomas, teacher in the district of columbia talbot county, maryland, the education of the negro in talbot, mr., tutor in the district of columbia, talbot, reverend, taught samuel lowry at franklin college, tappan, arthur, work of, in behalf of negroes, tanner, bishop benjamin tucker, attended school in pennsylvania, tarborough, north carolina, effect of the insurrection of, tatem, isaac, instructed negroes, taylor, m.w., taught by his mother, taylor, dr. wm., educated for service in liberia, taylor, reverend, interest of, in the enlightenment of negroes, templeton, john n., educational efforts of, tennessee, education of the negroes of, legislation of, terrell, mary church, mother of, taught by white gentleman, terrell, robert h., father of, learned to read, thetford academy opened to negroes, thomas, j.c. teacher of w.s. scarborough, thomas, rev. samuel, teacher in south carolina, thompson, margaret, efforts of, in the district of columbia, thornton, views of, on colonization, toop, clara g., an instructor at avery college, toronto, canada, evening school organized, torrey, jesse, on education and emancipation, trenton, new jersey, quakers of, interested, troumontaine, julian, teacher in savannah, "true bands," educational work of, in canada, (see also note ,) trumbull, john, teacher in philadelphia, tucker, ebenezer, principal of union literary institute, tucker, judge st. george, discussed slave insurrections, turner, bishop henry m., early education of, turner, nathaniel, the education of, effects of the insurrection of, union college admitted a negro, union literary institute, indiana, favorable to the instruction of negroes, vanlomen, father, aided maria becraft, vashon, george b., principal of avery college, vermont, required practically no segregation, vesey, denmark, effect of the insurrection of, vesey, reverend, interest of, in neau's school, virginia, question of instructing negroes of, education of negroes of, given legal sanction, colored schools of, work of abolitionists of, interest of quakers of, efforts of presbyterians of, prohibitive legislation of, vocational training emphasized by frederick douglass, interest of h.b. stowe in, wagoner, h.o., taught by his parents, walker, david, appeal of, wall, mary, teacher in the district of columbia, (see note ) ward, s.r., attainments of, warren, john w., studied under white children, warville, brissot de, found desirable conditions, washington, george, attitude of, will of, waterford, ephraim, taught by his employer, watkins, wm., teacher in baltimore, watrum, françois philibert, inquiry of, about instructing negroes, wattles, augustus, philanthropist and educator, wayman, reverend, advocate of the instruction of negroes, wayman, rev. dr., interest of, in free schools, weaver, amanda, assisted myrtilla miner, wells, nelson, bequeathed $ , to educate negroes, wesley, john, opinion of, on the intellect of negroes, western reserve converted to democratic education, wetmore, reverend, a worker connected with neau's school, wheatley, phyllis, education of, poetry of, white, j. t., attended school in indiana, white, dr. thomas j., educated for liberia, white, w.j., educated by his white mother, whitefield, rev. george, interest in the uplift of negroes, plan of, to establish a school, whitefield, rev. james, promoted education in baltimore, whitefield, james m., poet, wickham, executor of samuel gist, williams, bishop, urged the duty of converting the negroes, williamson, henry, taught by his master, wilmington, delaware, educational work of abolitionists of, wilson, bishop of sodor and man, published a pamphlet on the uplift of the negroes, contributed money to educate the negroes of talbot county, maryland, wilson, rev. hiram, inspector of schools in canada, founder of a manual labor school, windsor, canada, school privileges of, wing, mr., teacher in cincinnati, winslow, parson, children of, indulgent to uncle cephas, wisconsin, equal school facilities of, woodson, ann, taught by her young mistress, woodson, emma j., instructor at avery college, woodson, louis, teacher in pittsburgh, woolman, john, interest of, wormley, james, efforts of, in the district of columbia, (see note ) wormley, mary, teacher in the district of columbia, wortham, dr. james l., pupil of john chavis wright, rev. john f., one of the founders of wilberforce university xenia, ohio, settlement of, wilberforce university established near zane, jonathan, gave $ , for the education of negroes an essay on the evils of popular ignorance by john foster. revised and enlarged edition. "a work, which, popular and admired as it confessedly is, has never met with the thousandth part of the attention which it deserves. it appears to me that we are now at a crisis in the state of our country, and of the world, which renders the reasonings and exhortations of that eloquent production applicable and urgent beyond all power of mine to express." dr. j. pye smith. advertisement if the circumstance of a manner of introduction somewhat different from what would be expected in a composition of the essay class were worth a very few words of explanation, it might be mentioned, that the following production has grown out of the topics of a discourse, delivered at a public anniversary meeting in aid of the british and foreign school society. when it was thought, a good while after that occasion, that a more extensive use might be made of some of the observations, the writing was begun in the form of a discourse addressed to an assembly, and commencing with a sentence from the bible, to serve as a general indication to the subject. but after some progress had been made, it became evident that anything like a comprehensive view of that subject would be incompatible with the proper limits of such a composition. in relinquishing, however, the form of a public address, the writer thought he might be excused for leaving some traces of that character to remain, in both the cast of expression and the theological sentiment; for reverting repeatedly to the sentence from scripture; and for continuing the use of the plural pronoun, so commodious for the modest egotism of public discoursers. in the general design and course of observations, the essay retains the character of the original discourse, which was, in accordance to the presumed expectations of a grave assembly, an attempt to display the importance of the education of the people in reference, mainly, to moral and religious interests. there are special relations in which their ignorance or cultivation are of great consequence to the welfare of the community. some of these are of indispensable consideration to the legislator, and to the political economist. but it is in that general and moral view, in which ignorance in the lower orders is beheld the cause of their vice, irreligion, and consequent misery, that the subject is attempted, imperfectly and somewhat desultorily, to be illustrated in the following pages. nor was it within the writer's design to suggest any particular plans, regulations, or instrumental expedients, in promotion of the system of operations hopefully begun, for raising these classes from their degradation. his part has been to make such a prominent representation of the calamitous effects of their ignorance, as shall prove it an aggravated national guilt to allow another generation to grow up to the same condition as the present and the past. in the course of attempting this, occasions have been seized of exposing the absurdity of those who are hostile to the mental improvement of the people. if any one should say that this is a mere beating of the air, for that all such hostility is now gone by, he may be assured there are many persons, of no insignificant rank in society, who would from their own consciousness smile at the simplicity with which he can so easily shape men's opinions and dispositions to his mind whether they will or not. he must have been the most charitable or the most obtuse of observers. it is feared the readers of the following essay will find some defect of distribution and arrangement. to the candor of those who are practised in literary work it would be an admissible plea, that when, in a preparation to meet a particular occasion for which but little time has been allowed, a series of topics and observations has been hastily sketched out, it is far from easy to throw them afterwards into a different order. the author has to bespeak indulgence also, here and there, to something too like repetition. if he qualifies the terms in which this fault is acknowledged, it is because he thinks that, though there be a recurrence of similarities, a mere bare iteration is avoided, by means of a diversity and addition of the matter of illustration and enforcement. any benevolent writer on the subject would wish he could treat it without such frequent use of the phrases, "lower orders," "subordinate classes," "inferior portion of society," and other expressions of the same kind; because they have an invidious sound, and have indeed very often been used in contempt. he can only say, that he uses them with no such feeling; that they are employed simply as the most obvious terms of designation; and that he would like better to employ any less ungracious ones that did not require an affected circumlocution. in several parts of the essay, there will be found a language of emphatic censure on that conduct of states, that predominant spirit and system in the administration of the affairs of nations, by which the people have been consigned to such a deplorable condition of intellectual and consequently moral degradation, while resources approaching to immensity have been lavished on objects of vanity and ambition. so far from feeling that such observations can require any apology, the writer thinks it is high time for all the advocates of intellectual, moral, and religious improvement, to raise a protesting voice against that policy of the states denominated christian, and especially our own, which has, through age after age, found every conceivable thing necessary to be done, at all costs and hazards, rather than to enlighten, reform, and refine the people. he thinks that nothing can more strongly betray a judgment enslaved, or a time-serving dishonesty, in those who would assume to dictate to such an advocate and to censure him, than that sort of doctrine which tells him that it is beside his business, and out of his sphere, as a christian moralist, to animadvert on the conduct of national authorities, when he sees them, during one long period of time after another, not doing that which is the most important of all things to be done for the people over whom they preside, but doing what is in substance and effect the reverse; and doing it on that great scale, which contrasts so fearfully with the small one, on which the individuals who deplore such perversion of power are confined to attempt a remedy of the consequences. this interdiction comes with its worst appearance when it is put forth in terms affecting a profound reverence of religion; a reverence which cannot endure that so holy a thing should be defiled, by being brought in any contact with such a subject as the disastrous effect of bad government, on the intellectual and moral state of the people. the advocate of schemes for the improvement of their rational nature _may_, it seems, take his ground, his strongest ground, on religion, for enforcing on _individuals_ the duty of promoting such an object. in the name and authority of religion he may press on their consciences with respect to the application of their property and influence; and he may adopt under its sanction a strongly judicial language in censure of their negligence, their insensibility to their accountableness, and their lavish expenditures foreign to the most important uses: in all this he does well. but the instant he begins to make the like judicial application of its laws to the public conduct of the governing authorities, that instant he debases christianity to politics, most likely to party-politics; and a pious horror is affected at the profanation. christianity is to be honored somewhat after the same manner as the lama of thibet. it is to stay in its temple, to have the proprieties of homage duly preserved within its precincts, but to be _exempted_ (in reverence of its sanctity!) from all cognizance of great public affairs, even in the points where they most interfere with or involve its interests. it could show, perhaps, in what manner the administration of those affairs injures these interests; but it would degrade its sacred character by talking of any such matter. but christianity must have leave to decline the sinister compliment of such pretended anxiety to preserve it immaculate. as to its sacred character, it can _venture that,_ on the strength of its intrinsic quality and of its own guardianship, while, regardless of the limits thus attempted in mock reverence to be prescribed, it steps in a censorial capacity on what will be called a political ground, so far as to take account of what concern has been shown, or what means have been left disposable, for operations to promote the grand essentials of human welfare, by that public system which has grasped and expended the strength of the community, christianity is not so demure a thing that it cannot, without violating its consecrated character, go into the exercise of this judicial office. and as to its _right_ to do so,--either it has a right to take cognizance now of the manner in which the spirit and measures of states and their regulators bear upon the most momentous interests, or it will have no right to be brought forward as the supreme law for the final award on those proceedings and those men. [footnote: a censure on this alleged desecration of religious topics, which had been pronounced on the essay (first edit.) by a review making no small pretensions both religious and literary, was the immediate cause that prompted these observations. but they were made with a general reference to a hypocritical cant much in vogue at that time, and long before. that it _was_ hypocritical appeared plainly enough from the circumstance, that those solemn rebukes of the profanation of religion, by implicating it with political affairs, smote almost exclusively on one side. let the religious moralist, or the preacher, amalgamate religion as largely as he pleased with the _proper sort_ of political sentiments, that is, the servile, and then it was all right.] it is now more than twenty years since a national plan of education for the inferior classes, was brought forward by mr. (now lord) brougham. the announcement of such a scheme from such an author, was received with hope and delight by those who had so long deplored the condition of those classes. but when it was formally set forth, its administrative organization appeared so defective in liberal comprehension, so invidiously restricted and accommodated to the prejudices and demands of one part of the community, that another great division, the one in which zeal and exertions for the education of the people had been more and longer conspicuous, was constrained to make an instant and general protest against it. and at the same time it was understood, that the party in whose favor it had been so inequitably constructed, were displeased at even the very small reserve it made from their monopoly of jurisdiction. it speedily fell to the ground, to the extreme regret of the earnest friends of popular reformation that a design of so much original promise should have come to nothing. all legislative consideration of the subject went into abeyance; and has so remained, with trifling exception, through an interval in which far more than a million, in england alone, of the children who were at that time within that stage of their life on which chiefly a general scheme would have acted, have grown up to animal maturity, destitute of all that can, in any decent sense of the word, be called education. think of the difference between their state as it is, and what it might have been if there had at that time existed patriotism, liberality, and moral principle, enough to enact and carry into effect a comprehensive measure. the longer the neglect the more aggravated the pressure with which the subject returns upon us. it is forcing itself on attention with a demand as peremptory as ever was the necessity of an embankment against the peril of inundation. there are no indications to make us sanguine as to the disposition of the most influential classes; but it were little less than infatuation not to see the necessity of some extraordinary proceeding, to establish a fortified line between us and--not national dishonor; _that_ is flagrantly upon us, but--the destruction of national safety. as to national dishonor, by comparison with what may be seen elsewhere, it is hardly possible for a patriot to feel a more bitter mortification than in reading the description, as recently given by m. cousin, of the state of education in the prussian dominions, and then looking over the hideous exhibition of ignorance and barbarism in this country; in representing to himself the vernal intelligence, (as we may rightly name it,) the information, the sense of decorum, the fitness for rational converse, which must quite inevitably diffuse a value and grace throughout the general youthful character under such a discipline, and then changing his view to what may be seen all over his own country--an incalculable and ever-increasing tribe of human creatures, growing up in a condition to show what a wretched and offensive thing is human nature left to itself. when neither opprobrium, nor prospective policy, nor sense of duty, can constrain the attention of the officially and virtually ruling part of society to an important national interest, it is sure to come on them at last in some more alarming and imperative manifestation. the present and very recent times have afforded significant indication of what an ignorant populace are capable of believing, and of being successfully instigated to perpetrate. it is not to be pretended that such ignorance, and such liabilities to mischief, exist only in particular spots of the land, as if the local outbreaks were merely incidental and insulated facts, standing out of community with anything widely pervading the mass. within but very few years of the present date, we have had the spectacle of millions, literally millions, of the people of england, yielding an absolute credence to the most monstrous delusions respecting public questions and measures, imposed on them by dishonest artifice, and what may be called moral incendiarism; and these delusions of a nature to excite the passions of the multitude to crime. it is difficult to believe that all this can be seen without serious apprehension, by those who sustain the primary responsibility for devising measures to secure the national _safety_, (that we may take the lowest term of national welfare;) and that they can be content to rest that security on expedients which, in keeping the people in order, make them no wiser or better. it would truly be a glorious change in our history, if we might at length see the national power wielded by enlightened, virtuous, and energetic spirits, not only to the bare effect of withstanding disorder and danger, but in a resolute, invincible determination to redeem us from the national ignominy of exhibiting to the world, far in the nineteenth century, a rude, unprincipled, semi-barbarous populace. thus far the hopes which had flattered us with such a change, as a consequence of a political movement so considerable as to be denominated a revolution, have been grievously disappointed. we must wait, but with prognostics little encouraging, to see whether a professed concern for popular education will result in any effective scheme. that profession has hitherto been followed up with so little appearance of earnest conviction, or of high and comprehensive purpose, among the majority of the influential persons who, perhaps for decorum's sake, have made it, as to leave cause for apprehension that, if any such scheme were to be proposed, it would be in the first instance very limited in its compass, indecisive in its enforcement, and niggardly in its pecuniary appointments. many of our legislators have never thought of investigating the condition of the people, and are unaware of their deplorable destitution of all mental cultivation; and many have formed but a low and indistinct estimate of the kind and measure of cultivation desirable to be imparted. very slowly does the conviction or the desire make its way among the favorites of fortune, that the portion of humanity so far below them should be raised to the highest mental condition compatible with the limitation and duties of their subordinate allotment. no doubt, the most genuine zeal for the object would find difficulties in the way, of a magnitude to require a great and persevering exertion of power, were they only those opposed by the degraded condition of the people themselves; by the utter carelessness of one part, and the intractableness of another. nor is it to be denied, that the differences of religious opinion, among the promoters of the design, must create considerable difficulty as to the mode and extent of religious instruction, to form a part of a comprehensive system. but we are told, besides, of we know not what obstruction to be encountered from prejudices of prescription, privileged and peculiar interests, the jealous pride of venerable institutions, assumed rights of station and rank, punctilios of precedence, the tenacity of parties who find their advantage in things as they are, and so forth; all to be deferentially consulted. if this mean that the old horror of a bold experimental novelty is still to be yielded to; that nothing in this so urgent affair is to be ventured but in a creeping inch-by-inch movement; that the reign of gross ignorance, with all its attendant vices, is to be allowed a very leisurely retreat, retaining its hold on a large portion of the present and following generations of the children, and therefore the adults; that their condition and fate shall be mainly left at the discretion of ignorant and often worthless parents; that there shall be no considerable positive exaction of local provision for the institution, or of attendance of those who should be benefited by it; that, in short, there shall not be a comprehensive application of the national power through its organ, the government, by authoritative, and, we must say, in some degree coercive measures, to abate as speedily as possible the national nuisance and calamity of such a state of the juvenile faculties and habits as we see glaring around us; and all this because homage is demanded to anticipated prejudices, selfishness of privilege, venerable institutions, pride of station, jealousy of the well-endowed, and the like:--if this be what is meant, we may well ask whether these factitious prerogatives, that would thus interfere to render feeble, partial, and slow, any projected exertion to rescue the nation from barbarism, turpitude, and danger, be not themselves among the most noxious things in the land, and the most deserving to be extirpated. how readily will the proudest descend to the plea of impotence when the exhortation is to something which they care not for or dislike, but to which, at the same time, it would be disreputable to avow any other than the most favorable sentiments, to be duly expressed in the form of great regret that the thing is impracticable. impracticable--and does the case come at last to be this, that from one cause and another, from the arrogance of the high and the untowardness of the low, the obstinacy of prejudice, and the rashness of innovation, the dissensions among friends of a beneficent design and the discountenance of those who are no better than enemies, a mighty state, triumphantly boasting of every _other_ kind of power, absolutely _cannot_ execute a scheme for rescuing its people from being what a great authority on this subject has pronounced "the worst educated nation in europe?" then let it submit, with all its pomp, pride, and grandeur, to stand in derision and proverb on the face of the earth. * * * * * with a view to a wider circulation than that which is limited by the price of the volume published in an expensive form and style of printing, it has been deemed advisable to publish a cheap edition of the "essay on popular ignorance." it is not in any degree an abridgment of the preceding edition; the only omission, of the slightest consequence, being in a few places where changes have been rendered necessary by the subsequent conduct of our national authorities, as affecting our speculations and prospects in relation to general education; while, on the other hand, there are numerous little additions and corrections, in attempts to bring out the ideas more fully, or with some little afterthought of discrimination or exception. in some instances the connection and dependence of the series of thoughts have been rendered more obvious, and the sentences reduced to a somewhat more simple and compact construction; but the principal object in this _final revised_ has been literary correction, without any material enlargement or change. it is hoped that this reprint in a popular form may serve the purpose of contributing something, in co-operation with the present exertions, to expose, and partially remedy, the lamentable and nationally disgraceful ignorance to which the people of our country have been so long abandoned. contents. section i. defect of sensibility in the view of the unhappiness of mankind. --ignorance one grand cause of that unhappiness.--ignorance prevalent among the ancient jewish people.--its injurious operation--and ultimately destructive consequence.--more extended consideration of ignorance as the cause of misery among the ancient heathens. section ii. brief review of the ignorance prevailing through the ages subsequent to those of ancient history.--state of the popular mind in christendom during the complete reign of popery.--supposed reflections of a protestant in one of our ancient splendid structures for ecclesiastical use.--slow progress of the reformation, in its effects on the understandings of the people.--their barbarous ignorance even in the time of elizabeth, notwithstanding the intellectual and literary glories of this country in that period.--sunk in ignorance still in what has often been called our augustan age.--strange insensibility of the cultivated part of the nation with regard to the mental and moral condition of the rest.--almost heathen ignorance of religion at the time when whitefield and wesley began to excite the attention of the multitude to that subject.--signs and means of a change for the better in recent times. section iii. great ignorance and debasement still manifest in various features of the popular character.--entire want, in early life, of any idea of a general and comprehensive purpose to be pursued--gratification of the senses the chief good.--cruelty a subsidiary resource.--disposition to cruelty displayed and confirmed by common practices.--confirmed especially by the manner of slaughtering animals destined for food.--displayed in the abuse of the laboring animals.--general characteristic of the people an indistinct and faint sense of right and wrong.--various exemplifications.--dishonor to our country that the people should have remained in such a condition.--effects of their ignorance as appearing in several parts of the economy of life; in their ordinary occupations; in their manner of spending their leisure time, including the sunday; in the state of domestic society; consequences of this last as seen in the old age of parents.--the lower classes placed by their want of education out of amicable communication with the higher.--unhappy and dangerous consequences of this.--great decline of the respect which in former times the people felt toward the higher classes and the existing order of the community.--progress of a contrary spirit. section iv. objection, that a material increase of knowledge and intelligence among the people would render them unfit for their station, and discontented with it; would excite them to insubordination and arrogance toward their superiors; and make them the more liable to be seduced by the wild notions and pernicious machinations of declaimers, schemers, and innovators.--observations in answer.--special and striking absurdity of this objection in one important particular.--evidence from matter of fact that the improvement of the popular understanding has not the tendency alleged.--the special regard meant to be had to _religious_ instruction in the education desired for the lower classes, a security against their increased knowledge being perverted into an excitement to insubordination and disorder.--absurdity of the notion that an improved education of the common people ought to consist of instruction specifically and almost solely religious.--the diminutive quantity of religious as well as other knowledge to which the people would be limited by some zealous advocates of order and subordination utterly inadequate to secure those objects.--but, question what is to be understood by order and subordination.--increased knowledge and sense in the people certainly not favorable to a credulous confidence and a passive, unconditional submission, on their part, toward the presiding classes in the community.--advantage, to a wise and upright government, of having intelligent subjects.--great effect which a general improvement among the people would necessarily have on the manner of their being governed.--the people arrived, in this age, at a state which renders it impracticable to preserve national tranquillity without improving their minds and making some concession to their claims.--folly and probable calamity of an obstinate resolution to maintain subordination in the nations of europe in the arbitrary and despotic manner of former times.--facility and certain success of a better system. section v. extreme poverty of religious knowledge among the uneducated people: their notions respecting god, providence, jesus christ, the invisible world.--fatal effect of their want of mental discipline as causing an inaptitude to receive religious information.--exemplifications,--in a supposed experiment of religious instruction in a friendly visit to a numerous uneducated family; in the stupidity and thoughtlessness often betrayed in attendance on public religious services; in the impossibility of imparting religious truths, with any degree of clearness, to ignorant persons, when alarmed into some serious concern by sickness; in the insensibility and invincible delusion sometimes retained in the near approach to death.--rare instances of the admirable efficacy of religion to animate and enlarge the faculties, even in the old age of an ignorant man.--excuses for the intellectual inaptitude and perversion of uncultivated religious minds.--animadversions on religious teachers. section vi. supposed method of verifying the preceding representation of the ignorance of the people.--renewed expressions of wonder and mortification that this should be the true description of the english nation.--prodigious exertions of this nation for the accomplishment of objects foreign to the improvement of the people.--effects which might have resulted from far less exertion and resources applied to that object.--the contrast between what has been done, and what might have been done by the exertion of the national strength, exposed in a series of parallel representations.--total unconcern, till a recent period, of the generality of persons in the higher classes respecting the mental state of the populace.--indications of an important change in the manner of estimating them.--measures attempted and projected for their improvement.--some of these measures and methods insignificant in the esteem of projectors of merely political schemes for the amendment of the popular condition.--but questions to those projectors on the efficacy of such schemes.--most desirable, nevertheless, that the political systems and the governing powers of states _could_ be converted to promote so grand a purpose.--but expostulations addressed to those who, desponding of this aid, despond therefore of the object itself.--incitement to individual exertion.--reference to the sublimest example.--imputation of extravagant hope.--repelled; first, by a full acknowledgment how much the hopes of sober-minded projectors of improvement are limited by what they see of the disorder in the essential constitution of our nature; and next, by a plain statement, in a series of particulars, of what they nevertheless judge it rational to expect from a general extension of good education.--answer to the question, whether it be presumed that any merely human discipline can reduce its subjects under the predominance of religion.--answer to the inquiry, what is the extent of the knowledge of which it is desired to put the common people in possession.--observations on supposed degrees of possible advancement of the knowledge and welfare of the community; with reflections of astonishment and regret at the actual state of ignorance, degradation, and wretchedness, after so many thousand years have passed away.--congratulatory notice of those worthy individuals who have been rescued from the consequences of a neglected education by their own resolute mental exertions. essay on popular ignorance. "my people are destroyed for lack of knowledge." _hosea_. section i. it may excite in us some sense of wonder, and perhaps of self-reproach, to reflect with what a stillness and indifference of the mind we can hear and repeat sentences asserting facts which are awful calamities. and this indifference is more than the accidental and transient state, which might prevail at seasons of peculiar heaviness or languor. the self-inspector will often be compelled to acknowledge it as a symptom and exemplification of the _habit_ of his mind, that ideas of extensive misery and destruction, though expressed in the plainest, strongest language, seem to come with but a faint glimmer on his apprehension, and die away without awakening one emotion of that sensibility which so many comparatively trifling causes can bring into exercise. will the hearers of the sentence just now repeated from the sacred book, give a moment's attention to the effect it has on them? we might suppose them accosted with the question, would you find it difficult to say what idea, or whether anything distinct enough to deserve the name of an idea, has been impressed by the sound of words bearing so melancholy a significance? and would you have to confess, that they excite no interest which would not instantly give place to that of the smallest of your own concerns, occurring to your thoughts; or would not leave free the tendency to wander loose among casual fancies; or would not yield to feelings of the ludicrous, at the sight of any whimsical incident? it would not probably be unfair to suspect such faintness of apprehension, and such unfixedness and indifference of thought, in the majority of any large number of persons, though drawn together ostensibly to attend to matters of gravest concern. and perhaps many of the most serious of them would acknowledge it requires great and repeated efforts, to bring themselves to such a contemplative realization of an important subject, that it shall lay hold on the affections, though it should press on them, as in the present instance, with facts and reflections of a nature the most strongly appealing to a mournful sensibility. that the "people are destroyed," is perceived to have the sound of a lamentable declaration. but its import loses all force of significance in falling on a state of feeling which, if resolvable into distinct sentiments, would be expressed to some such effect as this:--that the people's destruction, in whatever sense of the word, is, doubtless, a deplorable thing, but quite a customary and ordinary matter, the prevailing fact, indeed, in the general state of this world; that, in truth, it would seem as if they were made but to be destroyed, for that they have constantly been, in all imaginable ways, the subjects of destruction; that, subjected in common with all living corporeal beings to the doom of death, and to a fearful diversity of causes tending to inflict it, they have also appeared, through their long sad history, consigned to a spiritual and moral destruction, if that term be applicable to a condition the reverse of wisdom, goodness, and happiness; that, in short, such a sentence as that cited from the prophet, is too merely an expression of what has been always and over the whole world self-evident, to excite any particular attention or emotion. thus the destruction, in every sense of the word, of human creatures, is so constantly obvious, as mingled and spread throughout the whole system, that the mind has been insensibly wrought to that protective obtuseness which (like the thickness of the natural clothing of animals in rigorous climates) we acquire in defence of our own ease, against the aggrievance of things which inevitably continue in our presence. an instinctive policy to avoid feeling with respect to this prevailing destruction, has so effectually taught us how to maintain the exemption, by all the requisite sleights of overlooking, diverting, forgetting, and admitting deceptive maxims of palliation, that the art or habit is become almost mechanical. when fully matured, it appears like a wonderful adventitious faculty--a power of evading the sight, of _not seeing_, what is obviously and glaringly presented to view on all sides. there is, indeed, a dim general recognition that such things are; the hearing of a bold denial of their existence, would give an instant sense of absurdity, which would provoke a pointed attention to them, the more perfectly to verify their reality; and the perception how real and dreadful they are, might continue distinct as long as we were in the spirit of contradicting and exploding that absurd denial; but, in the ordinary state of feeling, the mind preserves an easy dulness of apprehension toward the melancholy vision, and sees it as if it saw it not. this fortified insensibility may, indeed, be sometimes broken in upon with violence, by the sudden occurrence of some particular instance of human destruction, in either import of the word, some example of peculiar aggravation, or happening under extraordinary and striking circumstances, or very near us in place or interest. an emotion is excited of pity, or terror, or horror; so strong, that if the person so affected has been habitually thoughtless, and has no wish to be otherwise, he fears he shall never recover his state of careless ease; or, if of a more serious disposition, thinks it impossible he can ever cease to feel an awful and salutary effect. this more serious person perhaps also thinks it must be inevitable that henceforward his feelings will be more alive to the miseries of mankind. but how obstinate is an inveterate habitual state of the mind against any single impressions made in contravention to it! both the thoughtless and the more reflective man may probably find, that a comparatively short lapse of time suffices, to relieve them from anything more than slight momentary reminiscences of what had struck them with such painful force, and to restore, in regard to the general view of the acknowledged misery of the human race, nearly the accustomed tranquillity. the course of feeling resembles a listless stream of water, which, after being dashed into commotion, by a massive substance flung into it, or by its precipitation at a rapid, relapses, in the progress of a few fathoms and a few moments, into its former sluggishness of current. but is it well that this should be the state of feeling, in the immediate presence of the spectacle exhibiting the people under a process of being destroyed? there must be a great and criminal perversion from what our nature ought to be, in a tranquillity to which it makes no material difference whether they be destroyed or saved; a tranquillity which would hardly, perhaps, have been awaked to an effort of intercession at the portentous sign of destruction revealed to the sight of ornan; or which might at the deluge have permitted the privileged patriarch to sink in a soft slumber, at the moment when the ark was felt to be moving from its ground. if the original rectitude of that nature had been retained by any individual, he would be confounded to conceive how creatures having their lot cast in one place, so near together, so much alike, and under such a complication of connections and dependences, can yet really be so insulated, as that some of them may behold, with immovable composure, innumerable companies of the rest in such a condition, that it had been better for them not to have existed. to such a condition a vast multitude have been consigned by "the lack of knowledge." and we have to appeal concerning them to whatever there is of benevolence and conscience, in those who deem themselves happy instances of exemption from this deplorable consignment; and are conscious that their state of inestimable privilege is the result, under the blessing of heaven, of the reception of information, of truth, into their minds. if it were suggested to the well instructed in our companies to take an account of the benefit they have received through the medium of knowledge, they would say they do not know where to begin the long enumeration, or how to bring into one estimate so ample a diversity of good. it might be something like trying to specify, in brief terms, what a highly improved portion of the ground, in a tract rude and sterile if left to itself, has received from cultivation; an attempt which would carry back the imagination through a progression of states and appearances, in which the now fertile spots, and picture-like scenes, and commodious passes, and pleasant habitations, may or must have existed in the advance from the original rudeness. the estimate of what has ultimately been effected, rises at each stage in this retrospect of the progress, in which so many valuable changes and additions still require to be followed by something more, to complete the scheme of improvement. in thus tracing backward the condition of a now fair and productive place of human dwelling and subsistence, it may easily be recollected, what a vast number of the earth's inhabitants there are whose places of dwelling are in all those states of worse cultivation and commodiousness, and what multitudes leading a miserable and precarious life amidst the inhospitableness of the waste, howling wilderness. each presented circumstance of fertility or shelter, salubrity or beauty, may be named as what is wanting to a much greater number of the occupants of the world, than those to whom the "lines are fallen in such pleasant places." when, in like manner, a person richly possessed of the benefits imparted by means of knowledge, finds, in attempting to recount them, that they rise so fast on his view, in their variety, combinations, and gradations from less to greater, as to overpower his computing faculty, he may be reminded that this account of his wealth is, in truth, that of many other men's poverty. and if, while these benefits are coming so numerously in his sight, like an irregular crowd of loaded fruit-trees, one partially seen behind the offered luxury of another, and others still descried, through intervals, in the distance, he can imagine them all devastated and swept away from him, leaving him in a scene of mental desolation,--and if he shall then consider that nearly such is the state of the great multitude,--he will surely feel that a deep compassion is due to so depressed a condition of existence. and how strongly is its infelicity shown by the very circumstance, that a being who is himself but very imperfectly enlightened, and who is exposed to sorrow and doomed to death, is nevertheless in a state to be able to look down upon the victims of the "lack of knowledge" with profound commiseration. the degree of pity is the measure of a conscious superiority. we may say to persons so favored,--if knowledge has been made the cause that you are, beyond all comparison, better qualified to make the short sojourn on this earth to the greatest advantage, think what a fatal thing that must be which condemns so many, whose lot is contemporary and in vicinity with yours to pass through the most precious possibilities of good unprofited, and at last to look back on life as a lost adventure. if through knowledge you have been introduced into a new and superior world of ideas and realities, and your intellectual being has there been brought into exercise among the highest interests, and into communication with the noblest objects, think of that condition of the soul to which this better economy has no existence. if knowledge rendered efficacious has become, in your minds, the light and joy of the christian faith and hope, look at the state of those, whose minds have never been cultivated to an ability to entertain the principles of religious truth, even as mere intellectual notions. you would not for the wealth of an empire consent to descend, were it possible, from the comparative elevation to which you have been raised by means of knowledge, into melancholy region of spirits abandoned to ignorance. but in this situation have the mass of the people been, from the time of the prophet whose words we have cited, down to this hour. the prophets had their exalted privilege of dwelling amidst the illuminations of heaven effectually countervailed, as to any elation of feeling it might have imparted, by the grief of beholding the daily spectacle of the grossest manifestations and mischiefs of ignorance among the people, for the very purpose of whose exemption from that ignorance it was that they bore the sacred office. one of the most striking of the characteristics by which their writings so forcibly seize the imagination is, a strange continual fluctuation and strife of lustre and gloom, produced by the intermingling and contrast of the emanations from the spirit of infinite wisdom, with those proceeding from the dark, debased souls of the people. we are tempted to pronounce that nation not only the most perverse, but the most unintelligent and stupid of all human tribes. the revealed law of god in the midst of them; the prophets and other organs of oracular communication; religious ordinances and emblems; facts, made and expressly intended to embody truths, in long and various series; the whole system of their superhuman government, constituted as a school--all these were ineffectual to create so much just thought in their minds, as to save them from the vainest and the vilest delusions and superstitions. but, indeed, this very circumstance, that knowledge shone on them from him who knows all things, may in part account for an intellectual perverseness that appears so peculiar and marvellous. the nature of man is in such a moral condition, that anything is the less acceptable for coming directly from god; it being quite consistent, that the state of mind which is declared to be "enmity against him," should have a dislike to his coming so near, as to impart his communications by his immediate act, bearing on them the fresh and sacred impression of his hand. the supplies for man's temporal being are conveyed to him through an extended medium, through a long process of nature and art, which seems to place the great first cause at a commodious distance; and those gifts are, on that account, more welcome, on the whole, than if they were sent as the manna to the israelites. the manna itself might not have been so soon loathed, had it been produced in what we call the regular course of nature. and with respect to the intellectual communications which were given to constitute the light of knowledge in their souls, there can, on the same principle, be no doubt that the people would more willingly have opened their minds to receive them and exercise the thinking faculties on them, if they could have appeared as something originating in human wisdom, or at least as something which, though primarily from a divine origin, had been long surrendered by the revealer, to maintain itself in the world by the authority of reason only, like the doctrines worked out from mere human speculation. but truth that was declared to them, and inculcated on them, through a continual immediate manifestation of the sovereign intelligence, had a glow of divinity (if we may so express it) that was unspeakably offensive to their minds, which therefore receded with instinctive recoil, they were averse to look toward that which they could not see without seeing god; and thus they were hardened in ignorance, through a reaction of human depravity against the too luminous approach of the divine presence to give them wisdom. but in whatever degree the case might be thus, as to the cause, the fact is evident, that the jewish people were not more remarkable for their pre-eminence in privilege, than for their grossness of mental vision under a dispensation specially and miraculously constituted and administered to enlighten them. the sacred history of which they are the subject, exhibits every mode in which the intelligent faculties may evade or frustrate the truth presented to them; every way in which the decided preference for darkness may avail to defy what might have been presumed to be irresistible irradiations; every perversity of will which renders men as accountable and criminal for being ignorant as for acting against knowledge; and every form of practical mischief in which the natural tendency of ignorance, especially wilful ignorance, is shown. a great part of what the devout teachers of that people had to address to them, wherever they appeared among them, was in reproach of their ignorance, and in order, if possible, to dispel it. and were we to indulge our fancy in picturing the forms and circumstances in which it was encountered by those teachers, we might be sure of not erring much by figuring situations very similar to what might occur in much later and nearer states of society. if we should imagine one of these good and wise instructors going into a promiscuous company of the people, and asking them, with a view at once to see into their minds and inform them, say, ten plain questions, relative to matters somewhat above the ordinary secular concerns of life, but essential for them to understand, it would be a quite probable supposition that he did not obtain from the whole company rational answers to more than three, or two, or even one, of those questions; notwithstanding that every one of them might be designedly so framed, as to admit of an easy reply from the most prominent of the dictates of the "law and the prophets," and from the right application of the memorable facts in the national history of the jews. in his earlier experiments he might be supposed very reluctant to admit the fact, that so many of his countrymen, in one spot, could have been so faithfully maintaining the ascendency of darkness in their spirits, while surrounded by divine manifestations of truth. he might be willing to suspect he had not been happy in the form of words in which his queries had been conveyed. but it may be believed that all his changes and adaptations of expression, to elicit from the contents of his auditors' understandings something fairly answering to his questions, might but complete the proof that the thing sought was not there. and while he might be looking from one to another, with regret not unmingled with indignation at an ignorance at once so unhappy and so criminal, they probably might little care, excepting some slight feeling of mortified pride, that they were thus proved to be nearly pagans in knowledge within the immediate hearing of the oracles of god. or we may represent to ourselves this benevolent promoter of improvement endeavoring to instruct such a company, not in the way of interrogation, but in the ordinary manner of discourse, and _assuming_ that they actually had in their minds those principles, those points of knowledge, which would, on the former supposition of a course of questions, have qualified them to make the proper replies. it may indeed be too much to imagine a discerning man to entertain such a presumption; but supposing he did, and proceeded upon it, you can well conceive what reception the reasonings, advices, or reproofs, would find among the hearers, according to their respective temperaments. some would be content with knowing nothing at all about the matter, which they would perhaps say, might be, for aught they knew, something very wise; and, according to their greater or less degree of patience and sense of decorum, would wait in quiet and perhaps sleepy dulness for the end of the irksome lecture, or escape from it by a stolen retreat, or a bold-faced exit. to others it would all seem ridiculous absurdity, and they would readily laugh if any one would begin. a few, possessed of some natural shrewdness, would set themselves to catch at something for exception, with unadroit aim, but with good will for cavil. while perhaps one or two, of better disposition, imperfectly descrying at moments something true and important in what was said, and convinced of the friendly intention of the speaker, might feel a transient regret for what they would with honest shame call the stupidity of their own minds, accompanied with some resentment against those to whose neglect it was greatly attributable. the instructor also, as the signs grew evident to him of the frustration of his efforts upon the invincible grossness of the subjects before him, would become animated with indignation at the incompetence or wicked neglect in the system and office of public instruction, of which the intellectual condition of such a company of persons might be taken as a proof and consequence. and in fact there is no class more conspicuous in reprobation, in the solemn invectives of the prophets, than those whose special and neglected duty it was to instruct the jewish people. now if such were the state of their intelligence, how would this friend of truth and the people find, how would he have _expected_ to find, their piety, their morals, and their happiness affected by such destitution of knowledge? do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles? we are supposing them to be in ignorance of four parts out of five, or perhaps of nine parts out of ten, of what the supreme wisdom was maintaining an extraordinary dispensation to declare to them. why to declare, but because each particular in this divine promulgation was pointed to some circumstance, some propensity, some temptation, in their nature and condition, and was exactly fitted to be there applied as a rectifier and guard? the revelations and signs from heaven were the sum of what the perfect intelligence judged indispensable to be sent forth from him to his subjects, as seen by him liable to be wrong; and could there be one dictate or fact superfluous in such a communication? if not, consider the case of minds in which one, and a second, and the far greater number, of the points of information thus demonstrated to be necessary, had no place to shine or exist; of which minds, therefore, the estimates, passions, volitions, principles of action with the actions also, were in so many instances abandoned to take their chance for good or evil. but _had_ they any chance for good in such an abandonment? what principle in their nature was to determine them to good, with an impulse that rendered needless the rational discrimination of it by the light of truth? it were an exceedingly probable thing truly, that some happy instinct, or some guiding star of good fortune, should have beguiled into an unknowing choice of what is right, that very nature which knowledge itself, including a recognition of the will of god, is so often insufficient to constrain to such a choice. but further; the absence of knowledge is sure to be something more and worse than simple ignorance. even were that absence but a mere negation, a vacancy of truth, (the terms truth and knowledge may be used for our present purpose as nearly synonymous, for what is not truth is not knowledge,) it would be by its effect as a _deficiency_, incalculably injurious. but it could not remain a mere deficiency: the vacancy of truth would commonly be found replenished with positive error. not indeed replenished, (we are speaking of uncultivated persons,) with a comprehensive and arranged set of false notions; for there would not be thinking enough to form opinions in any sufficient number to be distinctly and specifically the opposites to the many truths that were absent; but a few false notions, such as could hardly fail to take the place of absent truth in the ignorant mind, however crude they might be, and however deficient for constituting a full system of error, would be sure to dilate themselves so as to have an operation at all the points where truth was wanting. it is frightful to see what a space in an ignorant mind one false notion can occupy, working nearly the same effect in many distinct particulars, as if there had been so many distinct wrong principles, each producing specifically its own bad effect. so that in that mind a few false notions, and those the ones most likely to establish themselves there, shall be virtually equivalent to a whole scheme of errors standing formally in place of so many truths of which they are the reverse. and thus the dark void of ignorance, instead of remaining a mere negation, becomes filled with agents of perversion and destruction; as sometimes the gloomy apartments of a deserted mansion have become a den of robbers and murderers. such a friend of the people, then, as we were supposing to expend his life and zeal on the object of rescuing them from their ignorance, would see in that ignorance not only the privation of all direction and impulsion to good, but a great positive force of determination toward evil. but it may be alleged, that he would not find them _wholly_ destitute of right information. true; but he would find that the small portion of knowledge which an ignorant people did really possess, could be of little avail. it is not only that, from the narrowness of its scope, knowledge so scanty as to afford no principles directly adapted for application to a vast number of matters of judgment and conduct, would of course be of small use, though it _were_ efficient as far as it reached--of small use though it _did_ produce that very limited quantity of good which ought to be its proper share, in a due proportion to the larger amount of good to be produced by a larger knowledge. this is not the whole of the misfortune; it would not produce that proportionate share. for the fewer are the points to which there is knowledge that can be applied, the less availing is its application even to those few points. it shall be the kind of knowledge apposite to them, and yet be nearly useless; from the obvious cause, that a few just notions existing disconnected and confused among the mass of vain and false ones, which will, like noxious weeds, infest minds left in ignorance, are not _permitted_ by those bad associates to do their duty. weak by being few, insulated, unsupported, and dwelling among vicious neighbors, they not only cannot perform their own due service, but are liable to be seduced to that of the evil principles whose company they are condemned to keep. the _conjunction_ of truths is of the utmost importance for preserving the genuine tendency, and securing the appropriate efficacy, of each. it is an unhappy "lack of knowledge" when there is not enough to preserve, to what there is of it, the honest beneficial quality of knowledge. how many of the follies, excesses, and crimes, in the course of the world, have taken their pretended warrant from some fragment of truth, dissevered from the connection of truths indispensable to its right operation, and in that detached state easily perverted into coalescence with the most pernicious principles, which concealed and gave effect to their malignity under the falsified authority of a truth. there were many and melancholy exemplifications of all we have said of ignorance, in the conduct of that ancient people at present in our view. doubtless a sad proportion of the iniquities which, by their necessary tendency and by the divine vindictive appointment, brought plagues and destruction upon them, were committed in violation of what they knew. but also it was in no small part from blindness to the manifestation of truth and duty incessantly confronting them, that they were betrayed into crimes and consequent miseries. this is evident equally from the language in which their prophets reproached their intellectual stupidity, and from the surprise which they sometimes seem to have felt on finding themselves involved in retributive suffering, for what they could not conceive to be serious delinquencies. it appeared as if they had never so much as dreamed of such a-consequence; and their monitors had to represent to them, that it had been through their thoughtlessness of divine dictates and warnings, if they did not _know_ that such proceedings must provoke such an infliction. how one portion of knowledge admitted, with the exclusion of other truths equally indispensable to be known, may not only be unavailing, but may in effect lend force to destructive error, is dreadfully illustrated in the final catastrophe of that favored guilty nation. they were in possession of the one important point of knowledge, that a messiah was to come. they held this assurance not slightly, but with strong conviction, and as a matter of the utmost interest. but then, that this knowledge might have its appropriate and happy effect, it was of essential necessity for them to know also the character of this messiah, and the real nature of his great design. but this they closed up their understandings in a fatal contentment not to know. literally the whole people, with a diminutive exception, had failed, or rather refused, to admit, as to that part of the subject, the inspired declarations. now comes the consequence of knowing only one thing of several that require to be inseparable in knowledge. they formed to themselves a false idea of the messiah, according to their own worldly imaginations; and they extended the full assurance which they justly entertained of his coming, to this false notion of what he was to be and to accomplish when he should come. from this it was natural and inevitable that when the true messiah should come they would not recognize him, and that their hostility would be excited against a person who, while demanding to be acknowledged in that capacity, appeared without the characteristics pictured in their vain imagination, and with directly opposite ones. and thus they were placed in an incomparably worse situation for receiving him with honor when he did appear, than if they had had no knowledge that a messiah was to come. for on that supposition they might have regarded him as a most striking phenomenon, with curiosity and admiration, with awe of his miraculous powers, and as little prejudice as it is possible in any case for depravity and ignorance to feel toward sanctity and wisdom. but this delusive pre-occupation of their minds formed a direct grand cause for their rejecting jesus christ. and how fearful was the final consequence of _this_ "lack of knowledge!" how truly, in all senses, the people were destroyed! the violent extermination at length of multitudes of them from the earth, was but as the omen and commencement of a deeper perdition. and the terrible memorial is a perpetual admonition what a curse it is _not to know_. for he, by the rejection of whom these despisers devoted themselves to perish, while he looked on their great city, and wept at the doom which he beheld impending, said, _if_ them hadst _known_, even thou in this thy day.---- so much for that selected people:--we may cast a glance over the rest of the ancient world, as exemplifying the pernicious effect of the want of knowledge. the ignorance which pervaded the heathen nations, was fully equal to the utmost result that could have been calculated from all the causes contributing to thicken the mental darkness. the traditional glimmering of that knowledge which had been originally received by divine communication, had long since become nearly extinct, having gone out in the act, as it were, of lighting up certain fantastic inventions of doctrine, by ignition of an element exhaled from the corruptions of the human soul. in other words, the primary truths, imparted by the creator to the early inhabitants of the earth, gradually losing their clearness and purity, had passed, by a transition through some delusive analogies, into the vanities of fancy and notion which sprang from the inventive depravity of man; which inventions carried somewhat of an authority stolen from the grand truths they had superseded. and thus, if we except so much instruction as we may conceive that the extraordinary and sometimes dreadful interpositions of the governor of the world might convey, unaccompanied with declarations in language, (and it was in but an extremely limited degree that these had actually the effect of illumination,) the human tribes were surrendered to their own understanding for all that they were to know and think. melancholy predicament! the understanding, the intellect, the reason, which had not sufficed for preserving the true light from heaven, was to be competent to give light in its absence. under the disadvantage of this loss--after the setting of the sun--it was to exercise itself on an unlimited diversity of important things, inquiring, comparing, and deciding. all those things, if examined far, extended into mystery. all genuine thinking was a hard repellent labor. casual impressions had a mighty force of perversion. the senses were not a medium through which the intellect could receive ideas foreign to material existence. the appetites and passions would infallibly occupy and actuate the whole man. when by these his imagination was put in activity, its gleams and meteors would be anything rather than lights of truth. his interest, according to his gross apprehension of it, would in numberless instances require, and therefore would gain, false judgments for justification of the wrong manner of pursuing that interest. and all this while, there was no grand standard and test to which the notions of things could be brought. if there were some spirits of larger and purer thought, that went out in the honest search of truth, they must have felt an oppression of utter hopelessness in looking round on a world of doubtful things, on no one of which they could obtain the dictate of a supreme intelligence. there was no sovereign demonstrator in communication with the earth, to tell benighted man what to think in any of a thousand questions which arose to confound him. there were, instead, impostors, magicians, vain theorists, prompted by ambition and superior native ability to abuse the credulity of their fellow-mortals, which they did with such success as to become their oracles, their dictators, or even their gods. the multitude most naturally surrendered themselves to all such delusions. if it may be conceived to have been possible that their feeble and degraded reason, in the absence of divine light and of sound human discipline, might by earnest exertion have attained in some small degree to judge better that exertion was precluded by indolence, by the immediate wants and unavoidable employments of life, by sensuality, by love of amusement, by subjection, even of the mind, to superiors and national institutions, and by the tendency of human individuals to fall, if we may so express it, in dead conformity and addition to the lump. the result of all these causes, the sum of all these effects, was, that unnumbered millions of beings, whose value was in their intelligent and moral nature, were, as to that nature, in a condition analogous to what their physical existence would have been under a total and permanent eclipse of the sun. it was perpetual night in their souls, with all the phenomena incident to night, except the sublimity. while the material economy, constituting the order of things which belonged to their temporal existence, was in conspicuous manifestation around them, pressing with its realities on their senses; while nature presented to them its open and distinctly-featured aspect; while there was a true light shed on them every morning from the sun; while they had constant experimental evidence of the nature of the scene; and thus they had a clear knowledge of one portion of the things connected with their existence--that portion which they were soon to leave, and look back upon as a dream when one awaketh;--all this while there was subsisting, present with them, unapprehended except in faint and delusive glimpses, another order of things involving their greatest interest, with no luminary to make that apparent to them, after the race had willingly forgotten the original instructions from their creator. the dreadful consequences of this "lack of knowledge," as appearing in the religion and morals of the nations, and through these affecting their welfare, equalled and even surpassed all that might by theory have been presaged from the cause. this ignorance could not annihilate the _principle_ of religion in the spirit of man; but in taking away the awful repression of the idea of one exclusive sovereign divinity, it left that spirit to fabricate its religion in its own manner. and as the creating of gods might be the most appropriate way of celebrating the deliverance from the most imposing idea of one supreme being, depraved and insane invention took this direction with ardor. [footnote: those who have read goethe's memoirs of himself, may recollect the part where that late idolized "patriarch" of german literature tells of the lively interest he had at one time felt in shaping out of his imagination and philosophy a theology, beginning with the fabrication of a god (or gods,) and amplified into a system of principles, existences, and relations.] the mind threw a fictitious divinity into its own phantasms, and into the objects in the visible world. it is amazing to observe how, when one solemn principle was taken away, the promiscuous numberless crowd of almost all shapes of fancy and of matter became, as it were, instinct with ambition, and mounted into gods. they were alternately the toys and the tyrants of their miserable creator. they appalled him often, and often he could make sport with them. for overawing him by their supposed power, they made him a compensation by descending to a fellowship with his follies and vices. but indeed this was a condition of their creation; they _must_ own their mortal progenitor by sharing his depravity, even amidst the lordly domination assigned to them over him and the universe. we may safely affirm, that the mighty artificer of deifications, the corrupt soul of man, never once, in its almost infinite diversification of device in their production, struck out a form of absolute goodness. no, if there were ten thousand deities, there should not be one that should be authorized by perfect rectitude in itself to punish _him_; not one by which it should be possible for him to be rebuked without having a right to recriminate. such a pernicious creation of active delusions it was that took the place of religion in the absence of knowledge. and to this intellectual obscuration, and this legion of pestilent fallacies, swarming like the locusts from the smoke of the bottomless pit in the vision of st. john, the fatal effect on morals and happiness corresponded. indeed the mischief done there, perhaps even exceeded the proportion of the ignorance and the false theology; conformably to the rule, that anything wrong in the mind will be the _most_ wrong where it comes the nearest to its ultimate practical effect--except when in this operation outward it is met and checked by some foreign counteraction. the people of those nations (and the same description is applicable to modern heathens) did not know the essential nature of perfect goodness, or virtue. how should they know it? a depraved mind would not find in itself any native conception to give the bright form of it. there were no living examples of it. the men who held the pre-eminence in the community were generally, in the most important points, its reverse. it was for the _divine_ nature to have presented, in a manifestation of itself, the archetype of perfect rectitude, whence might have been derived the modified exemplar for human virtue. and so _would_ the idea of perfect moral excellence have come to dwell and shine in the understanding, if it had been the true divinity that men beheld in their contemplations of a superior existence. but when the gods of their heaven were little better than their own evil qualities, exalted to the sky to be thence reflected back upon them invested with olympian charms and splendors, their ideas of deity would evidently combine with the causes which made it impossible for them to conceive a perfect model for human excellence. see the mighty labor of human depravity to confirm its dominion! it would translate itself to heaven, and usurp divinity, in order to come down thence with a sanction for man to be wicked,--in order, by a falsification of the qualities of the supreme nature, to preclude his forming the true idea of what would be perfect rectitude in his own. a system which could thus associate all the modes of turpitude with the most lofty and illustrious forms of existence, would go far toward vitiating essentially the entire theory of moral good and evil. and it would in a great measure defraud of their practical efficacy any just principles that might, after all, maintain their place in the convictions of the understanding, and assert at times their claim with a voice which not even all this ruination could silence. but, how small was the number of pure moral principles, (if indeed any,) that among the people of the heathen nations _did_ maintain themselves in the convictions of the understanding. the privation of divine light gave full freedom, if there was any disposition to take such license, for every perverse speculation which could operate toward abolishing those principles in the natural reason of the species. what disposition there would be to take it may be imagined, when the abolishing of those principles was evidently to be also the destruction of all intrinsic authority in the practical rules founded on them, which destruction would confer an exemption infinitely desirable. the freedom for such thinking would infallibly be taken, in its utmost extent; and in fact the speculation was stimulated by so mighty a force of the depraved passions, that it went beyond the primary intention: it not only annulled the right principles and rules, but, not stopping at such negation, presumed to set forth opposite ones, so that the name and repute of virtues was given to iniquities without number. it is deplorable to consider how large a proportion of all the vices and crimes of which mankind were ever guilty, have actually constituted, in some or other of their tribes and ages, a part of the approved moral and religious system. it is questionable whether we could select from the worst forms of turpitude any one which has not been at least admitted among the authorized customs, if not even appointed among the institutes of the religion, of some portion of the human race. and depravities thus become licensed or sacred would have a fatal facility of communicating somewhat of their quality to all the other parts of the moral system. for this sanction both would reinforce their own power of infection, and would so beguile away all repugnance and counteraction, that the rest of the customs and institutes would readily admit the contamination, and become assimilated in evil; as the mohamedans have no care to avoid contact with their neighbors who are ill of the plague, since the plague has the warrant of heaven. wherever, therefore, in the imperfect notices afforded us of ancient nations, we find any one virulent iniquity holding an authorized place in custom or religion, we may confidently make a very large inference, though record were silent, as to the corresponding quality that would pervade the remainder of the moral system of those nations. indeed the inference is equally justified whether we regard such a sanction and establishment of a flagrant iniquity as a cause, or as an effect. suppose this sanction of some one enormity to _precede_ the general and equal corruption of morals,--how powerfully would it tend to bear them all down to a conformity in depravation. suppose it to be (the more natural order) the result and completion of that corruption--how vicious must have been the previous state which could go easily and consistently to such a consummation. everything that, under the advantage given by this destitution of knowledge, operated to the destruction of the true morality, both in theory and practice, must have had a fatal augmentation of its power in that part especially of this ignorance which respected hereafter. the doctrine of a future existence and retribution did not, in any rational and salutary form, interfere in the adjustment of the economy of life. the shadowy notion of a future state which hovered about the minds of the pagans, a vague apparition which alternately came and vanished, was at once too fantastic and too little of a serious belief to be of any avail to preserve the rectitude, or to maintain the authority, of the distinction between right and wrong. it was not denned enough, or noble enough, or convincing enough, or of judicial application enough, either to assist the efficacy of such moral principles as might be supposed to be innate in a rational creature, and competent for prescribing to it some virtues useful and necessary to it even if its present brief existence were all; or to enjoin effectually those higher virtues to which there can be no adequate inducement but in the expectation of a future life. imagine, if you can, the withdrawment of this doctrine from the faith of those who have a solemn persuasion of it as a part of revealed truth. suppose the grand idea either wholly obliterated, or faded into a dubious trace of what it had been, or transmuted into a poetic dream of classic or barbarian mythology,--and how many moral principles will be found to have vanished with it. how many things, before rendered imperative by this great article of faith, would have ceased to be duties, or would continue such only on the strength, and to the extent of the requirement, of some very minor consideration which might remain to enforce them, and that probably in a most deteriorated practical form. the sense of obligation, if continuing to recognize the nature of duty in things which could then no longer retain any such quality, otherwise than as looking to the most immediate and tangible benefit or harm, the lowest of moral calculations, would be reduced to a vulgar and reptile principle. the best of its strength, and all its dignity, would be departed from it when it could refer no more to eternity, an invisible world, and a judgment to come. it would therefore have none of that emphasis of impression which can sometimes dismay and quell the most violent passions, as by the mysterious awe of the presence of a spirit. it would be deprived of that which forms the chief power of conscience. and it would be impotent in any attempt--if so absurd an attempt could be dreamed of--to uphold, in the more dignified character of _principle_, that care of what is right which would be constantly degenerating into mere policy, and rationally justifying itself in doing so. the withdrawment, we said, of the grand truth in question, from a man's faith, (together with everything of taste and _habit_ which that faith might have created,) would necessarily break up the government over his conscience. how evident then is it, that among the people of the heathen lands, under a disastrous ignorance of this and all the other sublime truths, that are the most fit to rule an immortal being during his sojourn on earth, no man could feel any peremptory obligation to be universally virtuous, or adequate motives to excite an endeavor to approach that high attainment, even were there not a perfect inability to form the true conception of it. and then how much of course it was that the general mass would be dreadfully depraved. though a momentary surprise may at times have seized us on the occurrence, in their history, of some monstrous form of flagitiousness, we do not wonder at beholding a state of the people such in its general character as the sacred writers exhibit, in descriptions to which the other records of antiquity add their confirming testimony and ample illustrations. for while the immense aggregate is displayed to the mental view, as pervaded, agitated, and stimulated, by the restless forces of appetites and passions, and those forces operating with an impulse no less perverted than strong, let it be asked what kinds and measure of restraint there could be upon such a world of creatures so actuated, to keep them from rushing in all ways into evil. conceive, if you can, the fiction of such a multitude, so actuated, having been placed under an adjustment of restraints competent to withhold them. and then take off, in your imagination, one after another of these, to see what will follow. take off, at last, all the coercion that can be applied through the belief of a judgment to come, and a future state of retribution;--by doing which you would also empower the race to defy, if any recognition of him remained, the supreme governor, whose possible inflictions, being confined to the present life, might at any time be escaped by shortening it. all these sacred bonds being thus dissolved, behold this countless multitude abandoned to be carried or driven the whole length to which the impulses of their appetites and passions would go,--or could go before they were arrested by some obstruction opposed to them from a quarter foreign to conscience. and the main and final thing in reserve to limit their career, after all the worthier restraints were annihilated, would be only this,--the resistance which men's self-interest opposes to one another's bad inclinations. a gloomy and humiliating spectacle truly it is, to be offered by a world of rational and moral agents, if we see that, instead of a repression of the propensity to wickedness by reverence of the sovereign judge, and the anticipation of a future life, there is merely a restraint put on its external activity, and that by the force of men's fears of one another. but nearly to this it was, as the only strong restraint, that those heathens were left by their ignorance, or a notion so slight as to be little better, of a future existence and judgment. not but that it has been, in all nations and times, of infinite practical service that there is involved in the constitution of the world a law by which a coarse self-interest thus interposes to obstruct in a degree the violent propensity to evil; for it has prevented, under providence, more actual mischief, beyond comparison more, than all other causes together. the man inclined to perpetrate an iniquity, of the nature of a wrong to his fellow-mortals, is apprized that he shall provoke a reaction, to resist or punish him; that he shall incur as great an evil as that he is disposed to do, or greater; that either a revenge regardless of all formalities of justice will strike him, or a process instituted in organized society will vindictively reach his property, liberty, or life. this defensive array, of all men against all men, compels to remain shut up within the mind an immensity of wickedness which is there burning to come out into action. but for this, noah's flood had been rendered needless. but for this, our planet might have been accomplishing its circles round the sun for thousands of years past without a human inhabitant. through the effect of this essential law, in the social economy, it was possible for the race to subsist, notwithstanding all that ignorance of the divine being, of heavenly truth, and of uncorrupt morality, in which we are contemplating the heathen nations as benighted. but while thus it prevented utter destruction, it had no corrective operation on the depravity of the heart. it was not through a judgment of things being essentially evil that they were forborne; it was not by the power of conscience that wicked propensity was kept under restraint. it was only by a hold on the meaner principles of his nature, that the offender in will was arrested in prevention of the deed. and so the race were such virtually, as they would have hastened to become actually, could they have ceased to be afraid of one another's strength and retaliation.' [footnote: it is not very uncommon to hear credit given to human nature apparently in sober simplicity, for the whole amount of the negation of bad actions _thus_ prevented, as just so much genuine virtue, by some dealers in moral and theological speculation.] but even this restraint imposed by mutual apprehension, important as its operation was in the absence of nobler influences, was yet of miserably partial efficacy. men were continually breaking through this protective provision, and committed against one another a stupendous amount of crimes. and no wonder, when we consider that the evil passions, endowed as they seem to be with a portentous excess of vigor by the very circumstance of _being_ evil, (as the demoniacs were the strongest of men,) are exasperated the more by a certain degree of awe impressed on them by the defensive attitude of their objects. when strength so great might thus be irritated to greater, and when there were no "powers of the world to come," to invade the dreadful cavern of iniquity in the mind, and there combat and subdue it, there would often be no want of the audacity to send it forth into action at all hazards, and in defiance and contempt of the restraining force which operated through mutual fear of vindictive reaction. but it may be said, perhaps, that in thus representing the people who were destitute of divine knowledge, as left with hardly any other control on their bad dispositions than one of a quality little more dignified than fetters literally binding the limbs, we are underrating what there still was among them to take effect in the way of _instruction_. even this coarse principle of control itself, it may be alleged, this prudence of reciprocal fear became refined into something worthier of moral agents. for it passed, by a compromise among the species, from the form of individual self-defence and revenge into that of institutions of _law_; and legislation, it will be said, is a teacher of morals. retaining, indeed, the rough expedient of physical force, in readiness to coerce or punish where it cannot deter by warning, it yet strongly endeavors the repression of evil emotions by means of right _principles_, marked out, explained, and inculcated. it _teaches_ these principles as dictates of reason and justice, while it embodies them in the menacing authority of enactments. there was therefore, it may be pleaded, as much _instruction_ among the ancient heathen as there was legislation. in answering this, we may forego any rigorous examination of the quality of principles and precepts enunciated by legislators who themselves, in common with the people, looked on human existence and duty through a worse than twilight medium; who had no divine oracles to impart wisdom, and were, some of them, reduced to begin their operations with the lie that pretended they had such oracles; from all which it was inevitable that some of their maxims and injunctions would even in their efficacy be noxious, as being at variance with eternal rectitude. it is enough to observe, on the claims of legislation to the character of a moral preceptor, that it retained so palpably, after all, the nature of the gross element from which it was a refinement or transfusion, that even what it might teach right, as to the matter, it was unable to teach with the right moral impression. with all its gravity, and phrases of wisdom, and show of homage to virtue, it was, and was plainly descried to be, that very same _noli me tangere,_ in a disguised form; a less provoking and hostile manner only of keeping up the state of preparation for defensive war. every one knew right well that the pure approbation and love of goodness were not the source of law; but that it was an arrangement originating and deriving all its force from self-interest; a contrivance by which each man was glad to make the collective strength of society his guarantee against his neighbor's interest and wish to do him wrong. while pleased that others were under this restraint, he was often vexed at being under it also himself; but on the whole deemed this security worth the cost of suffering the interdict on his own inclinations,--perhaps as believing other men's to be still worse than his, or seeing their strength to be greater. we repeat that a preceptive system thus estimated could not, even had the principles to which it gave expression in the mandates of law been no other than those of the soundest morality, have impressed them with the weight of sanctity on the conscience. and all this but tends to show the necessity that the rules and sanctions of morality, to come with simplicity and power on the human mind, should primarily emanate, and be acknowledged as emanating, from a being exalted above all implication and competition of interest with man. thus we see, that the pagan ignorance precluded one grand requisite for crushing the dominion of iniquity; for there was nothing to insinuate or to force its way into the recesses of the soul, to apply _there_ a repressive power to the depraved ardor which glowed in the passions. that was left, inaccessible and inextinguishable, as the subterranean fires in a volcanic region. and in the mighty impulse to evil with which it was continually operating as an energy of feeling, it compelled the subservience of the intellect; and thus combined the passions with a faculty skilful to guide their direction, to diversify their objects, to invent expedients, and to seize and create occasions. what was it that this intelligent depravity would stop short of accomplishing? reflect on the extent of human genius, in its powers of invention, combination, and adaptation; and then think of all this faculty, in an immense number of minds, through many ages, and in every imaginable variety of situation, exerted with unremitting activity in aid of the wrong propensities. reflect how many ideas, apt and opportune for this service, would spring up casually, or be suggested by circumstances, or be attained by the earnest study of beings goaded in pursuit of change and novelty. the simple modes of iniquity were put under an active ministry of art, to combine, innovate, and augment. and so indefatigable was its exercise, that almost all conceivable forms of immorality were brought to imagination, most of them into experiment; and the greater number into prevailing practice, in those nations: insomuch that the sated monarch would have imposed as difficult a task on ingenuity in calling for the invention of a new vice, as of a new pleasure. they would perhaps have been nearly identical demands when he was the person to be pleased. such are some of the most obvious illustrations that the absence of knowledge was a cause, and added in an unknown measure to the strength of all other causes, of the excessive corruption in the heathen nations. and if this depravity of a world of moral agents did not, contemplated simply as a destruction of their _rectitude_, appear equivalent to the gravest import of the terms "the people are destroyed," the _misery_ inseparable from the depravity instantly comes in our view to complete their verification. we are aware that the wickedness and misery of the ancient world, as asserted in illustration of the natural effect of estrangement from divine truth, are apt to be regarded as of the order of topics which have dwindled into insignificance, worn out by being repeated just because they have often been repeated before; a sort of exhausted quarries and dried-up wells. there is a certain class of vain and sneering mortals, in whose conceit nothing is such proof of superior sense as discarding the greatest number of topics and arguments as obsolete or impertinent. it is to be reckoned on that some of these, on hearing again the old maxims, that a people without divine instruction must be a vicious one, and that a vicious people must be an unhappy one,--and those maxims accompanied with a description of the old pagan world as illustrative evidence,--will be prompt to let forth their comments in some such strain as the following:--"the state of the ancient heathens, thus brought upon us in one cheap declamation more, is now a matter of trivial import, just fit to give some show and exaggeration to the stale common-place, that ignorance is likely to produce depravity, and that depravity and misery are likely enough to go together. the pagans might be wretched enough; and perhaps also the matter has been extravagantly magnified for the service of a favorite theme, or to make a rhetorical show. at any rate, it is not now worth while to go so far back to concern ourselves about it. the ancient heathens had their day and their destiny, and it is of little importance to us what they were or suffered." it is fortunate, we may reply, to be "wiser than the ancients," without the trouble of _learning_ anything by means of them. it is fortunate, also, to have ascertained how much of all that ever existed can teach us nothing. we have a signal improvement in the fashion of wisdom, when that high endowment may be possessed as a thing distinct from compass of thought, from study of causes and effects as illustrated on the great scale, from aptitude to be instructed by the past, and from contemplation of the divine government as carried over a wide extent of time. but indeed this is not a privilege peculiar to this later day. in any former age there were men in sufficient number who were wise enough to be indifferent to all but immediate passing events, as knowing no lessons that persons like them had to learn from remoter views, looking either into the past or the future; who could even have before them the very monuments of awful events that were gone by, without perceiving inscribed on them any characters for contemplation to read. it is not impossible there might be persons who could plan their schemes, and debate their questions, and even follow their amusements, quite exempt from solemn reflections, within view of the ruins of jerusalem, after the roman legions had left it and its myriads of dead to silence. any reference to that dreadful spectacle, as an example of the consequences of the ignorance and wickedness of a people, might have been heard with unconcern, and lightly passed over as foreign to the matters requiring their attention: it was all over with the people dead, and the people alive had their own concerns to mind. but would not exactly such as these have been the men most likely to fall into the vices and impieties which would provoke the next avenging visitation, and to perish in it? in all times, the triflers with the great exemplifications of the connection of depravity with misery and ruin, who thought it but an impertinent moralizing that attempted to recall such funereal spectacles for admonition, were fools, whatever self-complacency they might feel in a habit of thinking more fitted, they would perhaps say, for making our best advantage of the world as we find it. and we of the present time are convicted of exceeding stupidity, if we think it not worth while to go a number of ages back to contemplate the mass of mankind, the wide world of beings such as ourselves, sunk in darkness and wretchedness, and to consider what it is that is taught by so melancholy an exhibition. what is to give fulness of evidence to an instruction, if a world be too narrow; what is to give it weight, if a world be too light? it is to be acknowledged, that the mental darkness which we are representing as so greatly the cause of the wickedness and unhappiness of those nations of old, had the effect of protecting them, in a measure, from some kinds of suffering. they had not, as we have been observing, illumination enough, to have conscience enough, for inflicting the severest pains of remorse; and for oppressing them with a distinct alarming apprehension of a future account. but that they were unhappy, was practically acknowledged in the very quality of what they ardently and universally sought as the highest felicities of existence. those delights were violent and tumultuous, in all possible ways and degrees estranged from reflection, and adverse to it. the whole souls of great and small, in the most barbarous and in the more polished state, were passionately set on revelry, on expedients for inflaming licentiousness to madness; or concourses of multitudes for pomps, celebrations, shows, games, combats; on the riots of exultation and revenge after victories. the ruder nations had, in their way, however pitiable on the score of magnificence, their grand festive, triumphal, and demoniac confluxes and revellings. to these joys of tumult, the people of the savage and the more cultivated nations sacrificed everything belonging to the peaceful economy of life, with a desperate, frantic fury. all this was the confession that there was little felicity in the heart or in the home. nor was it found in these resources; if the wild elation might be mistaken for happiness while it lasted, it was brief in each instance, and it subsided in an aggravated dreariness of the soul. the fact of their being unhappy had a still more gloomy attestation in the mutual enmity which seems to have been of the very essence of life so vital a principle, that it could not be spared for an hour. no, they could not live without this luxury drawn from the fountains of death! what is the most conspicuous material of ancient history, what is it that glares out the most hideously from that darkness and oblivion in which the old world is veiling its aspect, but the incessant furies of miserable mortals against their fellow-mortals, "hateful and hating one another?" we cannot look that way but we see the whole field covered with inflicters and sufferers, not seldom interchanging those characters. if that field widens to our view, it is still, to the utmost line to which the shade clears away, a scene of cruelty, oppression, and slavery; of the strong trampling on the weak, and the weak often attempting to bite at the feet of the strong; of rancorous animosities and murderous competitions of persons raised above the mass of the community; of treacheries and massacres; and of war between hordes, and cities, and nations, and empires; war _never_, in spirit, intermitted, and suspended sometimes in act only to acquire renewed force for destruction, or to find another assemblage of hated creatures to cut in pieces. powerful as "the spirit of the first-born cain" has continued, down to our age, and in the most improved divisions of mankind, there was, nevertheless, in the ancient pagan race, (as there is in some portions of the modern,) a more complete, uncontrolled actuation of the all-killing, all-devouring fury, a more absolute possession of moloch. now it is _as misery_ that we are exhibiting all this depravity. to be thus, _was suffering_. the disease and the pain are inseparable in the description, and they were so in the reality. and both together, inevitably seizing on beings who had rejected or lost divine knowledge, maintained a hold as fatal and invincible as that of the intervolved serpents of laocoon. it is true, that a comprehensive estimate of the state of the people we are contemplating, would bring in view several minor circumstances which, though not availing to change materially the effect of the picture, are themselves of less gloomy color. but at the same time such an estimate would include other forms also of infelicity, besides those which were at once the result and punishment of depravity, the stings with which sin rewarded the infatuation that loved it. if the design had been to exhibit anything like a general view, we must have taken account of such particulars as these: the unhappiness of being without an assurance of an all-comprehending and merciful providence, and of wanting therefore the best support in sorrow and calamity; the insuppressible impatience, or the deep melancholy, with which the more thoughtful persons must have seen departing from life, leaving them hopeless of ever meeting again in a life elsewhere, the relations or associates who were dear to them in spite of the prevailing effect of paganism to destroy philanthropy; and the gloomy sentiment with which they must have thought of their own continual approach toward death; a sentiment not always unaccompanied with certain intimidating hints and hauntings of possibilities in the darkness beyond that confine. but the more limited intention in the preceding description has been to illustrate their unhappiness as inflicted by their depravity, necessarily consequent on their ignorance. and what words so true, so irresistibly prompted at the view of such a scene, as those pronounced of a nation that at once despised the pagans and imitated them,--"the people are destroyed for lack of knowledge." * * * * * let us not be suspected of having lost sight of the fact, that vice and misery have, in our nature, a deeper source than ignorance; or of being so absurd as to imagine that if the inestimable truths unknown to the heathen world had been, on the contrary, in all men's knowledge, but a slight portion of the depravity and wretchedness we have described could then have had an existence. to say, that under long absence of the sun any tract of terrestrial nature _must infallibly_ be reduced to desolation, is not to say or imply, that under the benignant influence of that luminary the same region must, as necessarily and unconditionally, be a scene of beauty; but the only hope, for the only possibility, is for the field visited by much of that sweet influence. and it were an absurdity no less gross in the opposite extreme to the one just mentioned, to assert the uselessness, for rectifying the moral world, of a diffusion of the knowledge which shall compel men to see what is wrong; to deny that the impulses of the corrupt passions and will must suffer some abatement of their force and daring when encountered, like balaam meeting the angel, by a clear manifestation of their bad and ruinous tendency, by a convinced judgment, a protesting conscience, and the aspect of the almighty judge,--instead of their being under the tolerance of a judgment not instructed to condemn them, or, (as ignorance is sure to quicken into error,) perverted to abet them. section ii. from this view of the prevalence and malignant effects of ignorance among the people of the ancient world, both jews and gentiles, we may come down, with a few brief notices in passing over the long subsequent periods, towards our own times. for any attempt to prosecute the object through the ages and regions of later heathenism, (with the infatuated judaism still more destructive to its subjects,) would be to lose ourselves in a boundless scene of desolation, an immense amplitude of darkness, frightfully alive throughout with the activity of all noxious and hideous things. but by this time we are become aware how continually we are driven upon what will be in hazard of appearing an exaggerated phraseology; insomuch that we are almost afraid of accepting the epithets of description and aggravation which offer themselves as most appropriate to the subject. there are some self-complacent persons whose minds are so unapt to recognize the magnitude of a subject, or so averse perhaps to the contemplation of it if it be of tragical aspect, that strong terms accumulated to exhibit even what surpasses in its plain reality all the powers of language, offend them as declamatory exaggeration. let it then be just observed, without one ambitious epithet, that since that period when ancient history, strictly so named, left off describing the state of mankind, more than a myriad of millions of our race have been on earth, and quitted it without one ray of the knowledge the most important to spirits sojourning here, and going hence. but while any attempt to carry the representation of the fatal effects of ignorance over the extent of so dreary a scene is declined, let it not be forgotten that they have been an awful reality; that they have actually existed, in time, and place, and number of victims; that there actually _were_ the men, and so many men, who exemplified, and in so many ways, the truth we are illustrating. and a truth which has its demonstration in facts ought to come with the weight of all the facts that we believe ever _did_ demonstrate it. when they are not presented in breadth and detail prominently in our view, we are apt to lose the due effect of our knowing them to have existed. it will be enough to advert very briefly to the mohammedan imposture, though that is perhaps the most signal instance within all time, of a malignant delusion maintained directly and immediately by ignorance, by an absolute determination and even a fanatic zeal not to receive one new idea. tenets involving the most palpable impossibilities, and asserted in self-contradictory terms, must stand inviolable to all question or controversy; literature must be scouted as a profane folly; not a principle of true philosophy is to be admitted; hardly is an application of the plainest mechanics to improve a machine or implement to be tolerated; or an infidel is to be only _pardoned_, through contempt, for a successful obtrusion of science to render the most important service,--to save, for instance, a mussulman ship-with its proud, besotted commander and crew from destruction, [footnote: there is a very curious example of this related in dr clarke's travels.] lest an acknowledgment made to science should allow one momentary surmise of imperfection to insult the all-sufficiency and sanctity of the unalterable creed and institutes; lest any diminutive crevice should be made on any side of the temple of the vile superstition, for the passage of one glimpse of true light to annoy the foul fiend that dwells there, invested "in the dunnest smoke of hell." not, however, that this is the policy of doubt and apprehension, the evading and repelling caution of men who suspect themselves to be wrong and dread being forced to meet the proof. for the subjects of this execrable usurpation on the human understanding have, in general, the firmest assurance that all things in the system are right: it has itself secured them against _knowing_ anything that could discompose their sense of certainty. no fell savage, or serpent, or monster, ever had a more perfect instinct to avail itself of an impervious obscurity for its lurking-place, than this imposture has shown to keep out all mental light from its realm. the delusion is so strong and absolute in ignorance, is so identified with it, and so systematically repels at all points the approach of knowledge, that it is difficult to conceive a mode of its extermination that shall not involve some fearful destruction, in the most literal sense, of the people whom it possesses. and such a catastrophe it is probable the great body of them, in the temper of mind prevailing among them at this hour, would choose to incur by preference, we do not say to a serious, patient consideration of the true religion, but even to the admission among them of a system merely favoring knowledge in general, an order of measures which should urge upon the adults, and peremptorily enforce for the children, a discipline of intellectual improvement. there would be little national hesitation of choice, (at least in the central regions of the dominion of this hateful imposture,) between the introduction of any general system of expedients for driving them from their stupefaction into something like thinking and learning, and a general plague, to rage as long as any remained for victims. [footnote: in the interval since this was written, some change has taken place in favor of the admission of the elements of knowledge, in the capital, and in the second city of the mohammedan regions; but with very slight alterative influence on the mass; and with respect to the faith, probably none at all. within this interval, also, the central power has been hastening rapidly to its catastrophe.] * * * * * but let us now look, for a moment, at the intellectual state of the people denominated christian, during the ages preceding the reformation. the best of all the acquisitions by earth from heaven, christianity, might have seemed to bring with it an inevitable necessity of a great and permanent difference soon to be effected, in regard to the competence of men's knowledge to prevent their destruction. it was as if, in the physical system, some one production, far more salutary to life than all the other things furnished from the elements, had been reserved by the creator to spring up in a later age, after many generations of men had been languishing through life, and prematurely dying, from the deficient virtue of their sustenance and remedies. the image of the inestimable plant had been shown to the prophets in their visions, but the reality was now given to the world; it was of "wholly a right seed," "had the seed in itself," and claimed to be cultivated by the people, who in every land were suffering the maladies which it had the properties to heal. but, while by the greater part of mankind it was not accounted worth admission to a place on their blasted, desolated soil, the manner in which its virtue was frustrated among those who pretended to esteem it, as it was, the best gift of the divine beneficence, is recorded in eternal reproach of the christian nations. as the hostility of heathenism, in the direct endeavors to extirpate the christian religion, became evidently hopeless, in the nations within the roman empire, there was a grand change of the policy of evil; and all manner of reprobate things, heathenism itself among them, rushed as by general conspiracy into treacherous conjunction with christianity, retaining their own quality under the sanction of its name, and by a rapid process reducing it to surrender almost everything distinctive of it but that dishonored name: and all this under protection of the "gross darkness covering the people." there were indeed in existence the inspired oracles, and these could not be essentially falsified. but there was no lack of expedients and pre-texts for keeping them in a great measure secreted. it might be done under a pretence that reverence for their sanctity required they should be secluded as within the recesses of a temple, nor be there consulted but by consecrated personages; a pretence excellently contrived, since it was its own security against exposure, the people being thus kept unaware that the sacred writings themselves expressly invited popular inspection, by declaring themselves addressed to mankind at large. the deceivers were not worse off for the other facilities. in the progress of translation, the holy scriptures could be intercepted and stopped short in a language but little less unintelligible than the original ones to the bulk of the people, in order that this "profane vulgar" might never hear the very words of god, but only such report as it should please certain men, at their discretion, to give of what he had said; men, however, of whom the majority were themselves too ignorant to cite it in even a falsified import. but though the people had understood the language, in the usage of social converse, there was a grand security against them in keeping them so destitute of the knowledge of letters, that the bible, if such a rare thing ever could happen to fall into any of their hands, would be no more to them than a scroll of hieroglyphics. when to this was added, the great cost of a copy of so large a book before the invention of printing, it remained perhaps just worth while, (and it would be a matter of no difficulty or daring,) to make it, in the maturity of the system, an offence, and sacrilegious invasion of sacerdotal privilege, to look into a bible. if it might seem hard thus to constitute a new sin, in addition to the long list already denounced by the divine law, amends were made by indulgently rescinding some articles in that list, and qualifying the principles of obligation with respect to them all. in this latency of the sacred authorities, withdrawn from all communication with the human understanding, there were retained still many of the terms and names belonging to religion. they remained, but they remained only such as they could be when the departing spirit of that religion was leaving them void of their import and solemnity, and so rendered applicable to purposes of deception and mischief. they were as holy vessels, in which the original contents might, as they were escaping, be clandestinely replaced by the most malignant preparations. and as crafty and wicked men had a direct interest in this substitution, the pernicious operation went on incessantly; and with an ability, and to an extent to evince that the utmost barbarism of the times cannot extinguish genius, when it is iniquity that sets it on fire. how prolific was the invention of the falsehoods and absurdities of notion, and of the vanities and corruptions of practice, which it was devised to make the terms and names of religion designate and sanction! while it was also managed, with no less sedulity and success, that the inventors and propagators should be held in submissive reverence by the community, as the oracular depositaries of truth. that community had not knowledge enough of any other kind, to create a resisting and defensive power against this imposition in the concern of religion. a sound exercise of reason on subjects out of that province, a moderate degree of instruction in literature and science rightly so called, might have produced, in the persons of superior native capacity, somewhat of a competency and a disposition to question, to examine, to call for evidence, and to detect some of the fallacies imposed for christian faith. but in such completeness of ignorance, the general mind was on all sides pressed and borne down to its fate. all reaction ceased; and the people were reduced to exist in one huge, unintelligent, monotonous substance, united by the interfusion of a vile superstition, which permitted just enough mental life in the mass to leave it capable of being actuated to all the purposes of cheats, and tyrants,--a proper subject for the dominion of "our lord god the pope," as he was sometimes denominated; and might have been denominated without exciting indignation, in the hearing of millions of beings bearing the form of men and the name of christians. reflect that all this took place under the nominal ascendency of the best and brightest economy of instruction from heaven. reflect that it was in nations where even the sovereign authority professed homage to the religion of christ, and adopted and enforced it as a grand national institution, that the popular mass was thus reduced to a material fit for all the bad uses to which priestcraft could wish to put the souls and bodies of its slaves. and then consider what _should_ have been the condition of this great aggregate, wherever christianity was acknowledged by all as the true religion. the people _should_ have consisted of so many beings having each, in some degree, the independent, beneficial use of his _mind_; all of them trained with a reference to the necessity of their being apprized of their responsibility to their creator, for the exercise of their reason on the matters of belief and choice; all of them capacitated for improvement by being furnished with the rudiments and instrumental means of knowledge; and all having within their reach, in their own language, the scriptures of divine truth, some by immediate possession, the rest by means of faithful readers, while the book existed only in manuscript; all of them after it came to be printed. can any doubt arise, whether there were in the christian states resources competent, if so applied, to secure to all the people an elementary instruction, and the possession of the printed bible? resources competent! all nations, sufficiently raised above barbarism to exist as states, have consumed, in uses the most foreign and pernicious to their welfare, an infinitely greater amount of means than would have sufficed, after due provision for comfortable physical subsistence, to afford a moderate share of instruction to all the people. and in those popish ages, that expenditure alone which went to ecclesiastical use would have been far more than adequate to this beneficent purpose. think of the boundless cost for supporting the magnificence and satiating the rapacity of the hierarchy, from its triple-crowned head, down through all the orders branded with a consecration under that head to maintain the delusion and share the spoil. recollect the immense system of policy for jurisdiction and intrigue, every agent of which was a devourer. recollect the pomps and pageants, for which the general resources were to be taxed: while the general industry was injured by the interruption of useful employment, and the diversion of the people to such dissipation as their condition qualified and permitted them to indulge in. think also of the incalculable cost of ecclesiastical structures, the temples of idolatry as in truth they were. one of the most striking situations for a religious and reflective protestant is, that of passing some solitary hour under the lofty vault, among the superb arches and columns, of any one of the most splendid of these edifices remaining at this day in our own country. if he has sensibility and taste, the magnificence, the graceful union of so many diverse inventions of art, the whole mighty creation of genius that quitted the world without leaving even a name, will come with magical impression on his mind, while it is contemplatively darkening into the awe of antiquity. but he will be recalled--the sculptures, the inscriptions, the sanctuaries enclosed off for the special benefit, after death, of persons who had very different concerns during life from that of the care of their salvation, and various other insignia of the original character of the place, will help to recall him--to the thought, that these proud piles were in fact raised to celebrate the conquest, and prolong the dominion, of the power of darkness over the souls of the people. they were as triumphal arches, erected in memorial of the extermination of that truth which was given to be the life of men. as he looks round, and looks upwards, on the prodigy of design, and skill, and perseverance, and tributary wealth, he may image to himself the multitudes that, during successive ages, frequented this fane in the assured belief, that the idle ceremonies and impious superstitions, which they there performed or witnessed, were a service acceptable to heaven, and to be repaid in blessings to the offerers. he may say to himself, here, on this very floor, under that elevated and decorated vault, in a "dim religious light" like this, but with the darkness of the shadow of death in their souls, they prostrated themselves to their saints, or their "queen of heaven;" nay, to painted images and toys of wood or wax, to some ounce or two of bread and wine, to fragments of old bones, and rags of cast-off vestments. hither they came, when conscience, in looking back or pointing forward, dismayed them, to purchase remission with money or atoning penances, or to acquire the privilege of sinning with impunity in a certain manner, or for a certain time; and they went out at yonder door in the perfect confidence that the priest had secured, in the one case the suspension, in the other the satisfaction, of the divine law. here they solemnly believed, as they were taught, that, by donatives to the church, they delivered the souls of their departed sinful relations from their state of punishment; and they went out of that door resolved, such as had possessions, to bequeath some portion of them, to operate in the same manner for themselves another day, in the highly probable case of similar need. here they were convened to listen in reverence to some representative emissary from the man of sin, with new dictates of blasphemy or iniquity promulgated in the name of the almighty: or to witness the trickery of some farce, devised to cheat or frighten them out of whatever remainder the former impositions might have left them of sense, conscience, or property. here, in fine, there was never presented to their understanding, from their childhood to their death, a comprehensive, honest declaration of the laws of duty, and the pure doctrines of salvation. to think! that they should have mistaken for the house of god, and the very gate of heaven, a place where the regent of the nether world had so short a way to come from his dominions, and his agents and purchased slaves so short a way to go thither. if we could imagine a momentary visit from him who once entered a fabric of sacred denomination with a scourge, because it was made the resort of a common traffic, with what aspect and voice, with what infliction but the "rebuke with flames of fire," would he have entered this mart of iniquity, assuming the name of his sanctuary, where the traffic was in delusions, crimes, and the souls of men? it was even as if, to use the prophet's language, the very "stone cried out of the wall, and the beam out of the timber answered it," in denunciation; for a portion of the means of building, in the case of some of these edifices, was obtained as the price of dispensations and pardons. [footnote: that most superb salisbury cathedral, for example.] in such a hideous light would the earlier history of one of these mighty structures, pretendedly consecrated to christianity, be presented to the reflecting protestant; and then would recur the idea of its cost, as relative to what that expenditure might really have done for christianity and the people. it absorbed in the construction, sums sufficient to have supplied, costly as they would have been, even manuscript bibles, in the people's own language, (as a priesthood of truly apostolic character would have taken care the scriptures should speak,) to all the families of a province; and in the revenues appropriated to its ministration of superstition, enough to have provided men to teach all those families to read those bibles. in all this, and in the whole constitution of the grand apostasy, involving innumerable forms of abuse and abomination, to which our object does not require any allusion, how sad a spectacle is held forth of the people destroyed for lack of knowledge. if, as one of their plagues, an inferior one in itself, they were plundered as we have seen, of their worldly goods, it was that the spoil might subserve to a still greater wrong. what was lost to the accommodation of the body, was to be made to contribute to the depravation of the spirit. it supplied means for multiplying the powers of the grand ecclesiastical machinery, and confirming the intellectual despotism of the usurpers of spiritual authority. those authorities enforced on the people, on pain of perdition, an acquiescence in notions and ordinances which, in effect, precluded their direct access to the almighty, and the saviour of the world; interposing between them and the divine majesty a very extensive, complicated, and heathenish mediation, which in a great measure substituted itself for the real and exclusive mediation of christ, obscured by its vast creation of intercepting vanities the glory of the eternal being, and thus almost extinguished the true worship. but how calamitous was such a condition!--to be thus intercepted from direct intercourse with the supreme spirit, and to have the solemn and elevating sentiment of devotion flung downward, on objects to some of which even the most superstitious could hardly pay homage without a sense of degradation. it was, again, a disastrous thing to be under a directory of practical life framed for the convenience of a corrupt system; a rule which enjoined many things wrong, allowed a dispensation from nearly everything that was right, and abrogated the essential principle and ground-work of true morality. still again, it was an unhappy thing, that the consolations in sorrow and the view of death should either be too feeble to animate, or should animate only by deluding. and it was the consummation of evil in the state of the people of those dark ages, it was, emphatically to be "destroyed," that the great doctrines of redemption should have been essentially vitiated or formally supplanted, so that multitudes of people were betrayed to rest their final hopes on a ground unauthorized by the judge of the world. in this most important matter, the spiritual authorities might themselves be subjects of the fatal delusion in which they held the community; and well they deserved to be so, in judicial retribution of their wickedness in imposing on the people, deliberately and on system, innumerable things which they knew to be false. we have often mused, and felt a gloom and dreariness spreading over the mind while musing, on descriptions of the aspect of a country after a pestilence has left it in desolation, or of a region where the people are perishing by famine. it has seemed a mournful thing to behold, in contemplation, the multitude of lifeless? forms, occupying in silence the same abodes in which they had lived, or scattered upon the gardens, fields, and roads; and then to see the countenances of the beings yet languishing in life, looking despair, and impressed with the signs of approaching death. we have even sometimes had the vivid and horrid picture offered to our imagination, of a number of human creatures shut up by their fellow mortals in some strong hold, under an entire privation of sustenance; and presenting each day their imploring, or infuriated, or grimly sullen, or more calmly woful countenances, at the iron and impregnable gates; each succeeding day more haggard, more perfect in the image of despair; and after awhile appearing each day one fewer, till at last all have sunk. now shall we feel it as a _relief_ to turn in thought, as to a sight of less portentous evil, from the inhabitants of a country, or from those of such an accursed prison-house, thus pining away, to behold the different spectacle of national tribes, or any more limited portion of mankind, on whose _minds_ are displayed the full effects of knowledge denied; who are under the process of whatever destruction it is, that spirits can suffer from want of the vital aliment to the intelligent nature, especially from "a famine of the words of the lord?" to bring the two to a close comparison, suppose the case, that some of the persons thus doomed to perish in the tower were in the possession of the genuine light and consolations of christianity, perhaps even had actually been adjudged to this fate, (no extravagant supposition,) for zealously and persistingly endeavoring the restoration of the purity of that religion to the deluded community. let it be supposed that numbers of that community, having conspired to obtain this ad-judgment, frequented the precincts of the fortress, to see their victims gradually perishing. it would be quite in the spirit of the popish superstition, that they should believe themselves to have done god service, and be accordingly pleased at the sight of the more and more deathlike aspect of the emaciated countenances. the while, they might be themselves in the enjoyment of "fulness of bread," we can imagine them making convivial appointments within sight of the prison gates, and going from the spectacle to meet at the banquet. or they might delay the festivity, in order to have the additional luxury of knowing that the tragedy was consummated; as bishop gardiner would not dine till the martyrs were burnt.--look at these two contemporary situations, that of the persons with truth and immortal hope in their spirits, enduring this slow and painful reduction of their bodies to dissolution,--and that of those who, while their bodies fared sumptuously, were thus miserably perishing in soul, through its being surrendered to the curse of a delusion which envenomed it with such a deadly malignity: and say which was the more calamitous predicament. if we have no hesitation in pronouncing, let us consider whether we have ever been grateful enough to god for the dashing in pieces so long since in this land, of a system which maintains, to this hour, much of its stability over the greater part of christendom. if we regret that certain fragments of it are still held in veneration here, and that so tedious a length of ages should be required, to work out a complete mental rescue from the infatuation which possessed our ancestors, let us at the same time look at the various states of europe, small and great, where this superstition continues to hold the minds of the people in its odious grasp; and verify to ourselves what we have to be thankful for, by thinking what reception _our_ minds would give to an offer of subsistence on their mummeries, masses, absolutions, legends, relics, mediation of saints, and corruptions, even to complete reversal of the evangelic doctrines. * * * * * it was, however, but very slowly that the people of our land realized the benefits of the reformation, glorious as that event was, regarded as to its progressive and its ultimate consequences. indeed, the thickness of the preceding darkness was strikingly manifested by the deep shade which still continued stretched over the nation, in spite of the newly risen luminary, whose beams lost their brightness in pervading it to reach the popular mind, and came with the faintness of an obscured and tedious dawn. a long time there lingered enough of night for the evil spirit of popery to be at large and in power, not abashed, as milton represents the evil angel on his being surprised by the guardians of paradise. rather the case was that the vindicator itself of truth and holiness, the true lucifer, shrunk at the rencounter and defiance of the old possessor of the gloomy dominion. the reformation was not empowered to speak with a voice like that which said, "let there be light--and there was light." consider what, on its avowed national adoption in our land, were its provisions for acting on the community, and how slow and partial must have been their efficacy, for either the dissipation of ignorance in general, or the riddance of that worst part of it which had thickened round the romish delusion, as malignant a pestilence as ever walked in darkness. there was an alteration of formularies, a curtailment of rites, a declaration of renouncing, in the name of the church and state, the most palpable of the absurdities; and a change, in some instances of the persons, but in very many others of the professions merely, of the hierarchy. such were the appointments and instrumentality, for carrying an innovation of opinions and practices through a nation in which the profoundest ignorance and the most inveterate superstition fortified each other. and we may well imagine how fast and how far they would be effective, to convey information and conviction among a people whose reason had been just so much the worse, with respect to religion at least, as it had not been totally dormant; and who were too illiterate to be ever the wiser for the volume of inspiration itself, had it been in their native language, in every house, instead of being scarcely in one house in five thousand. doubtless some advantage was gained through this change of institutions, by the abolition of so much of the authority of the spiritual despotism as it possessed in virtue of being the imperative national establishment. and if, under this relaxation of its grasp, a number of persons declined and escaped into the new faith, they hardly knew how or why, it was happy to make the transition on _any_ terms, with however little of the exercise of reason, with however little competence to exercise it. well was it to be on the right ground, though a man had come thither like one conveyed while partly asleep. to have grown to a state of mind in which he ceased and refused to worship relics and wafers, to rest his confidence on penance and priestly absolution, and to regard the virgin and saints as in effect the supreme regency of heaven, was a valuable alteration _though_ he could not read, and _though_ he could not assign, and had not clearly apprehended, the arguments which justified the change. yes, this would be an important thing gained; but not even thus much _was_ gained to the passive slaves of popery but in an exceedingly limited extent, during a long course of time after it was supplanted as a national institution. it continued to maintain in the faith, feelings, and more private habits of the people, a dominion little enfeebled by the necessity of dissimulation in public observances. as far as to secure this exterior show of submission and conformity, it was an excellent argument that the state had decreed, and would resolutely enforce, a change in religion,--that is to say, till it should be the sovereign pleasure of the next monarch, readily seconded by a majority of the ecclesiastics, just to turn the whole affair round to its former position. but the argument would expend nearly its whole strength on this policy of saving appearances. for what was there conveyed in it that could strike inward to act upon the fixed tenets of the mind, to destroy there the effect of the earliest and ten thousand subsequent impressions, of inveterate habit and of ancient establishment? was it to convince and persuade by authority of the maxim, that the government in church and state is wiser than the people, and therefore the best judge in every matter? this, as asserted generally, was what the people firmly believed: it has always, till lately, been the popular faith. but then, was the benefit of this obsequious faith to go exclusively to the government of just that particular time,--a government which, by its innovations and demolitions, was exhibiting a contemptuous dissent from all past government remembered in the land? were the people not to hesitate a moment to take this innovating government's word for it that all their forefathers, up through a long series of ages, had been fools and dupes in reverencing, in their time, the wisdom and authority of _their_ governors? the most unthinking and submissive would feel that this was too much: especially after they had proof that the government demanding so prodigious a concession might, on the substitution of just one individual for another at its head, revoke its own ordinances, and punish those who should contumaciously continue to be ruled by them. you summon us, they might have said to their governors, at your arbitrary dictate to renounce, as what you are pleased to call idolatries and abominations, the faith and rites held sacred by twenty generations of our ancestors and yours. we are to do this on peril of your highest displeasure, and that of god, by whose will you are professing to act; now who will ensure us that there may not be, some time hence, a vindictive inquisition, to find who among us have been the most ready of obedience to offer wicked insult to the holy catholic apostolic church? this deficiency of the moral power of the government, to promote the progress of conviction in the mind of the nation, would be slenderly supplied by the authority of the class next to the government in the claim to deference, and even holding the precedence in actual influence,--that is, the families of rank and consequence throughout the country. for the people well knew, in their respective neighborhoods, that many of these had never in reality forsaken the ancient religion, consulting only the policy of a time-serving conformity; and that some of them hardly attempted or wished to conceal from their inferiors that they preserved their fidelity. and then the substituted religion, while it came with a great diminution of the pomp which is always the delight of the ignorant, acknowledged,--proclaimed as one of its chief merits,--a still more fatal defect for attracting converts from among beings whose ignorance had never been suffered to doubt, till then, that men in ecclesiastical garb could modify, or suspend, or defeat for them the justice of god; it proclaimed itself unable to give any exemptions or commutations in matters of conscience. when such were the recommendations which the new mode of religion _not_, and when the recommendation which it _had_ was simply, (the royal authority set out of the question,) an offer of evidence to the understanding _that it was true_, no wonder that many of a generation so insensate through ignorance should never become its proselytes. but even as to those who did, while it was a happy deliverance, as we have said, to escape almost any way from the utter grossness of popery, still they would carry into their better faith much of the unhappy effect of that previous mental debasement. how should a man in the rudeness of an intellect left completely ignorant of truth in general, have a luminous apprehension of its most important division? there could not be in men's minds a phenomenon similar to what we image to ourselves of goshen in the preternatural night of egypt, a space of perfect light, defined out by a precise limit amidst the general darkness. only consider, that the new ideas admitted into the proselyte's understanding as the true faith, were to take their situation there in nearly those very same encompassing circumstances of internal barbarism which had been so perfectly commodious to the superstition recently dwelling there; and that which had been favorable and adapted in the utmost degree, that which had afforded much of the sustenance of life, to the false notions, could not but be most adverse to the development of the true ones. these latter, so environed, would be in a condition too like that of a candle in the mephitic air of a vault. the newly adopted religion, therefore, of the uncultivated converts from popery, would be far from exhibiting, as compared with the renounced superstition, a magnitude of change, and force of contrast, duly corresponding to the difference between the lying vanities of priestcraft and a communication from the living god. the reign of ignorance combined with imposture had fixed upon the common people of the age of the reformation, and of several generations downward, the doom of being incapable of admitting genuine christianity but with an excessively inadequate apprehension of its attributes;--as in the patriarchal ages a man might have received with only the honors appropriate to a saint or prophet, the visitant in whom he was entertaining an angel unawares. happy for both that ancient entertainer of such a visitant, and the ignorant but honest adopter of the reformed religion, when that which they entertained rewarded them according to its own celestial quality, rather than in proportion to their inadequate reception. we may believe that the divine being, in special compassion to that ignorance to which barbarism and superstition had condemned inevitably the greater number of the early converts to the reformed religion, did render that faith beneficial to them beyond the proportion of their narrow and still half superstitious conception of it. and this is, in truth, the consideration the most consolatory in looking back to that tenebrious period in which popery was slowly retiring, with a protracted exertion of all the craft and strength of an able and veteran tyrant contending to the last for prolonged dominion. it is, however, no consideration of a portion of the people sincere, inquiring, and emerging, though dimly enlightened, from the gloom of so dreary a scene, that is most apt to occur to our thoughts in extenuation of that gloom. our unreflecting attention allows itself to be so engrossed by far different circumstances of that period of our history, that we are imposed upon by a spectacle the very opposite of mournful. for what is it but a splendid and animating exhibition that we behold in looking back to the age of elizabeth? and _was_ not that, it may be asked, an age of the highest glory to our nation? why repress our delight in contemplating it? how can we refuse to indulge an inspiring sympathy with the energy of those times, an elation of spirit at beholding the unparalleled allotment of her reign, of statesmen, heroes, and literary geniuses, but for whom, indeed, "that bright occidental star" would have left no such brilliant track of fame behind her? permit us to answer by inquiring, what should the intellectual condition of the _people_, properly so denominated, have been in order to correspond in a due proportion to the magnificence of these their representative chiefs, and complete the grand spectacle as that of a _nation_? determine that; and then inquire what actually _was_ the state of the people all this while. there is evidence that it was, what the fatal blight and blast of popery might be expected to have left it, generally and most wretchedly degraded. what it was is shown by the facts, that it was found impossible, even under the inspiring auspices of the learned elizabeth, with her constellation of geniuses, orators, scholars, to supply the churches generally with officiating persons capable of going with decency through the task of the public service, made ready, as every part of it was, to their hands; and that to be able to read, was the very marked distinction of here and there an individual. it requires little effort but that of going low enough, to complete the general estimate in conformity to these and similar facts. and here we cannot help remarking what a deception we suffer to pass on us from history. it celebrates some period in a nation's career, as pre-eminently illustrious, for magnanimity, lofty enterprise, literature, and original genius. there was, perhaps, a learned and vigorous monarch, and there were cecils and walsinghams, and shakspeares and spensers, and sidneys and raleighs, with many other powerful thinkers and actors, to render it the proudest age of our national glory. and we thoughtlessly admit on our imagination this splendid exhibition as in some manner involving or implying the collective state of the people in that age! the ethereal summits of a tract of the moral world are conspicuous and fair in the lustre of heaven, and we take no thought of the immensely greater proportion of it which is sunk in gloom and covered with fogs. the general mass of the population, whose physical vigor, indeed, and courage, and fidelity to the interests of the country, were of such admirable avail to the purposes, and under the direction, of the mighty spirits that wielded their rough agency,--this great assemblage was sunk in such mental barbarism, as to be placed at about the same distance from their illustrious intellectual chiefs, as the hordes of scythia from the finest spirits of athens. it was nothing to this debased, countless multitude spread over the country, existing in the coarsest habits, destitute, in the proportion of thousands to one, of cultivation, and still in a great degree enslaved by the popish superstition,--it was nothing to them, in the way of direct influence to draw forth their minds into free exercise and acquirement, that there were, within the circuit of the island, a profound scholarship, a most disciplined and vigorous reason, a masculine eloquence, and genius breathing enchantment. both the actual possessors of this mental opulence, and the part of society forming, around them, the sphere immediately pervaded by the delight and instruction imparted by them, might as well, for anything they diffused of this luxury and benefit among the general multitude, have been a brahminical caste, dissociated by an imagined essential distinction of nature. while they were exulting in this elevation and free excursiveness of mental existence, the prostrate crowd were grovelling through a life on a level with the soil where they were at last to find their graves. but this crowd it was that constituted the substance of the _nation_; to which, nation, in the mass, the historian applies the superb epithets, which a small proportion of the men of that age claimed by a striking _exception_ to the general state of the community. history too much consults our love of effect and pomp, to let us see in a close and distinct manner anything "on the low level of th' inglorious throng;" and our attention is borne away to the intellectual splendor exhibited among the most favored aspirants of the seats of learning, or in councils, courts, and camps, in heroic and romantic enterprises, and in some immortal works of genius. and thus we are gazing with delight at a fine public bonfire, while, in all the cottages round, the people are shivering for want of fuel. our history becomes very bright again with the intellectual and literary riches of a much later period, often denominated a golden age,--that which was illustrated by the talents of addison, pope, swift, and their numerous secondaries in fame; and could also boast its philosophers, statesmen, and heroes. and in the lapse of four or five ages, according to the average term of human life, since the earlier grand display of mind, what had been effected toward such an advancement of intelligence in the community, that when this next tribe of highly endowed spirits should appear, they would stand in much loss opprobrious contrast to the main body of the nation, and find a much larger portion of it qualified to receive their intellectual effusions. by this time, the class of persons who sought knowledge on a wider scale than what sufficed for the ordinary affairs of life, who took an interest in literature, and constituted the _authors' public_, had indeed extended a little, extremely little, beyond the people of condition, the persons educated in learned institutions, and those whose professions involved some necessity, and might create some taste for reading. still they _were a class_, and that with a limitation marked and palpable, to a degree very difficult for us now to conceive. they were in contact, on the one side, with the great thinkers, moralists, poets, and wits, but very slightly in communication with the generality of the people on the other. they received the emanations from the assemblage of talent and knowledge, but did not serve as conductors to convey them down indefinitely into the community. the national body, regarded in its intellectual character, had an inspirited and vigorous superior part, as constituted of these men of eminent talents and attainments, and this small class of persons in a measure assimilated to them in thinking and taste; but it was in a condition resembling that of a human frame in which, (through an injury in the spinal marrow,) some of the most important functions of vitality have terminated at some precise limit downward, leaving the inferior extremities devoid of sensation and the power of action. it is on record, that works admirably adapted to find readers and to make them, had but an extremely confined and slowly widening circulation, according to _our_ standard of the popular success of the productions of distinguished talents. nor did the writers _reckon_ on any such popular success. in the calculations of their literary ambition, it was a thing of course that the people went for nothing. it is apparent in allusions to the people occurring in these very works, that "the lower sort," "the vulgar herd," "the canaille," "the mob," "the many-headed beast," "the million," (and even these designations generally meant something short of the lowest classes of all,) were no more thought of in any relation to a state of cultivated intelligence than turks or tartars. the readers are habitually recognized as a kind of select community, conversed with on topics and in a language with which the vulgar have nothing at all to do,--a converse the more gratifying on that account. and any casual allusions to the bulk of the people are expressed in phrases unaffectedly implying, that they are a herd of beings existing on quite other terms and for essentially other ends, than we, fine writers, and you, our admiring readers. it is evident in our literature of that age, (a feature still more prominent in that of france, at the same and down to a much later period,) that the main national population, accounted as creatures to which souls and senses were given just to render their limbs mechanically serviceable, were regarded by the intellectual aristocracy with hardly so active a sentiment as contempt; they were not worth that; it was the easy indifference toward what was seldom thought of as in existence. wickedly wrong as such a feeling was, there is no doubt that the actual state of the people was quite such as would naturally cause it, in men whose large and richly cultivated minds did not contain philanthropy or christian charity enough to regret and pity the popular debasement as a calamity. for while they were indulging their pride in the elevation, and their taste in all the luxuries and varieties, of that ampler higher range of existence enjoyed by such men, in what light must they view the bulk of a nation, that knew nothing of their wit, genius, or philosophy, could not even read their writings, but as a coarse mass of living material, the mere earthy substratum of humanity, not to be accounted of in any comparison or even relation to what man is in his higher style? while they of that higher style were revelling in their mental affluence, the vast majority of the inhabitants of the island were subsisting, and had always subsisted, on the most beggarly pittance on which mind could be barely kept alive. probably they had at that time still fewer ideas than the people of the former age which we have been describing. for many of those with which popery had occupied the faith and fancy of that earlier generation, had now vanished from the popular mind, without being replaced in equal number by better ideas, or by ideas of any kind. and then their vices had the whole grossness of vice, and their favorite amusements were at best rude and boisterous, and a large proportion of them savage and cruel. so that when we look at the shining wits, poets, and philosophers, of that age, they appear like gaudy flowers growing in a putrid marsh. and to a much later period this deplorable ignorance, with all its appropriate consequences, continued to be the dishonor and the plague of the intellectual and moral condition of the inhabitants of england. of england! which had through many centuries made so great a figure in christendom; which has been so splendid in arms, liberty, legislation, science, and all manner of literature: which has boasted its universities, of ancient foundation and proudest fame, munificently endowed, and possessing, in their accumulations of literary treasure, nearly the whole results of all the strongest thinking there had been in the world: and which has had also, through the charity of individuals, such a number of minor institutions for education, that the persons intrusted to see them administered have, in very numerous instances, not scrupled to divert their resources to total different purposes, lest, perchance, the cause of damage to the people should change from a lack of knowledge to a repletion of it. of england! so long after the reformation, and all the while under the superintendence and tuition of an ecclesiastical establishment for both instruction and jurisdiction, co-extended with the entire nation, and furnished for its ministry with men from the discipline of institutions where everything the most important to be known was professed to be taught. thus endowed had england been, thus was she endowed at the period under our review, (the former part of the last century,) with the facilities, the provisions, the great intellectual apparatus, to be wielded in any mode her wisdom might devise, and with whatever strength of hand she chose to apply, for promoting her several millions of rational, accountable, immortal beings, somewhat beyond a state of mere physical existence. when therefore, notwithstanding all this, an awful proportion of them were under the continual process of destruction for want of knowledge, what a tremendous responsibility was borne by whatever part of the community it was that stood, either by office and express vocation, or by the general obligation inseparable from ability, in the relation of guardianship to the rest. but here the voice of that sort of patriotism which is in vogue as well in england as in china, may perhaps interpose to protest against malicious and exaggerated invective. as if it were a question of what might beforehand be reasonably expected, instead of an account of what actually exists, it may be alleged that surely it is a representation too much against antecedent probability to be true, that a civilized, christian, magnanimous, and wealthy state like that of england, can have been so careless and wicked as to tolerate, during the lapse of centuries, a hideously gross and degraded condition of the people. but besides that the fact is plainly so, it were vain to presume, in confidence on any supposed consistency of character, that it _must_ be otherwise. there is no saying _what_ a civilized and christian nation, (so called,) may not tolerate. recollect the slave trade, which, with the magnitude of a national concern, continued its abominations while one generation after another of englishmen passed away; their intelligence, conscience, humanity, and refinement, as quietly accommodated to it, as if one portion of the race had possessed an express warrant from heaven to capture, buy, sell, and drive another. this is but one of many mortifying illustrations how much the constitution of our moral sentiments resembles a manichæan creation, how much of them is formed in passive submission to the evil principle, acting through prevailing custom; which determines that it shall but very partially depend on the real and most manifest qualities of things present to us, whether we shall have any right perception of their characters of good and evil. the agency which works this malformation in our sentiments needs no greater triumph, than that the true nature of things should be disguised to us by the very effect of their being constantly kept in our sight. could any malignant enchanter wish for more than this,--to make us insensible to the odious quality of things not only _though_ they stand constantly and directly in our view, but _because_ they do so? and while they do so, there may also stand as obviously in our view, and close by them, the truths which _expose_ their real nature, and might be expected to make us instantly revolt from them; and these truths shall be no other than some of the plainest principles of reason and religion. it shall be as if men of wicked designs could be compelled to wear labels on their breasts wherever they go, to announce their character in conspicuous letters; or nightly assassins could be forced to carry torches before them, to reveal the murder in their visages; or, as if, according to a vulgar superstition, evil spirits could not help betraying their dangerous presence by a tinge of brimstone in the flame of the lamps. thus evident, by the light of reason and religion, shall have been the true nature of certain important facts in the policy of a christian nation; and nevertheless, even the cultivated part of that nation, during a series of generations, having directly before their sight an enormous nuisance and iniquity, shall yet never be struck with its quality, never be made restless by its annoyance, never seriously think of it. and so its odiousness shall never be decidedly apprehended till some individual or two, as by the acquisition of a new moral sense, receive a sudden intuition of its nature, a disclosure of its whole essence and malignity,--the essence and malignity of that very thing which has been exposing its quality, without the least reserve, by the most flagrant signs, to millions of observers. thus it has been with respect to the barbarous ignorance under which nine-tenths of the population of our country have continued, through a number of ages subsequent to the reformation, surrendered to everything low, vicious, and wretched. this state of national debasement and dishonor lay spread out, a wide scene of moral desolation, in the sight of statesmen, of dignified and subordinate ecclesiastics, of magistrates, of the philosophic speculators on human nature, and of all those whose rank and opulence brought them hourly proofs what great influence they might have, in any way in which, they should choose to exert it, on the people below them. and still it was all right that the multitudes, constituting the grand living agency through the realm, should remain in such a condition that, when they died, the country should lose nothing but so much animated body, with the quantum of vice which helped to keep it in action. when at length some were beginning to apprehend and proclaim that all this was wrong, these classes were exceedingly slow in their assent to the reformed doctrine. a large proportion of them even declared, on system, against the speculations and projects for giving the people, at last, the use and value of their souls as well as their hands. the earnest and sanguine philanthropists might be pardoned the simplicity of not foreseeing such an opposition, though they ought, perhaps, to have known better than to be surprised at the phenomenon. they were to be made wiser by force, with respect to men's governing prejudices and motives. and from credulity mortified is a short transit to suspicion. so ungracious a manner of having the insight into motives sharpened, does not tend to make its subsequent exercise indulgent, when it comes to inspect the altered appearances assumed by persons and classes who have previously been in decided opposition. what arguments have prevailed with you, (the question might be,) since you have never frankly retracted your former contempt of those which convinced _us_? may any sinister thought have occurred, that you might defeat our ends by a certain way of managing the means? or do you hope to deter mine and limit to some subordinate purposes, what we wish to prosecute for the most general good? or would you rather impose on yourselves the grievance of promoting an object which you dislike, than that we should have the chief credit of promoting it? do you sometimes accompany your working in the vineyard with maledictions on those who have reduced you to such a necessity? would you have been glad to be saved the unwelcome service by _their_ letting it alone? those friends of man and their country who were the earliest to combine in schemes for enlightening the people, and who continue to prosecute the object on the most liberal and comprehensive principle, have to acknowledge surmises like these. nevertheless, they are willing to forego any shrewd investigation into the causes of the later silence and apparent acquiescence of former opposers; and into the motives which have induced some of them, though in no very amicable mood, to take a part in measures tending in their general effect to the same end. whatever were their suspicion of those motives, they would be reminded of an example, not altogether foreign to the nature of their business, and quite in point to their duty,--that of the magnanimous principle through which the great apostle disappointed his adversaries, by finding his own triumph in that of his cause, while he saw that cause availing itself of these foes after the manner of some consummate general, who has had the art to make those who have come into the field as but treacherous auxiliaries, co-operate effectually in the battle which they never intended he should gain. some preached christ of envy, and strife, and contention, supposing to add affliction to his bonds; but, says he, what then? notwithstanding every way, whether in pretence or truth, christ is preached--_the thing itself is done_--and i therein rejoice, yea, and will rejoice. when animated by this high principle, this ambition absolutely _for the cause itself_, its servant is a gainer, because _it_ is a gainer, by all things convertible into tribute, whatever may be the temper or intention of the officers, either as towards the cause or towards himself. he may say to them, i am more pleased by what you are actually doing, be the motive what it will, in advancement of the object to which i am devoted, than it is possible for you to aggrieve me by letting me see that you would not be sorry for the frustration of _my_ schemes and exertions for its service; or even by betraying, though i should lament such a state of your minds, that you would be content to sacrifice _it_ if that might be the way to defeat _me_. we revert but for a moment to the review of past times.--we said that long after the brilliant show of talent, and the creation of literary supplies for the national use, in the early part of the last century, the deplorable mental condition of the people remained in no very great degree altered. to pass from beholding that bright and sumptuous display, in order to see what there was corresponding to it in the subsequent state of the popular cultivation, is like going out from some magnificent apartment with its lustres, music, refections, and assemblage of elegant personages, to be beset by beggars in the gloom and cold of a winter night. take a few hours' indulgence in the literary luxuries of addison, pope, and their secondaries, and then turn to some authentic plain representation of the attainments and habits of the mass of the people, at the time when whitefield and wesley commenced their invasion of the barbarous community. but the benevolent reader, (or let him be a patriotically proud one,) is quite reluctant to recognize his country, his celebrated christian nation, "the most enlightened in the world," (as song and oratory have it,) in a populace for the far greater part as perfectly estranged from the page of knowledge, as if printing, or even letters, had never been invented; the younger part finding their supreme delight in rough frolic and savage sports, the old sinking down into impenetrable stupefaction with the decline of the vital principle. if he would eagerly seek to fix on something as a counterbalance to this, and endeavor to modify the estimate and relieve the feeling, by citing perhaps the courage, and a certain rudimental capacity of good sense, in which the people are deemed to have surpassed the neighboring nations, he will be compelled to see how these native endowments were overrun and befooled by a farrago of contemptible superstitions;--contemptible not only for their stupid absurdity, but also as having in general nothing of that pensive, solemn, and poetical character which superstition is capable of assuming.--it is an exception to be made with respect to the northernmost part of the island, that superstition did there partake of this higher character. it seems to have had somewhat of the tone imitated, but in a softer mode, in the poetry, denominated of ossian. as to religion, there is no hazard in saying, that several millions had little further notion of it than that it was an occasional, or, in the opinion of perhaps one in twenty, a regular appearance at church, hardly taking into the account that they were to be taught anything there. and what _were_ they taught--those of them who gave their attendance and attention? what kind of notions it was that had settled in their minds under such ministration, would be, so to speak, brought out, it would be made apparent what they were or were not taught, when so strong and general a sensation was produced by the irruption among them of the two reformers just named, proclaiming, as they both did, (notwithstanding very considerable differences of secondary order,) the principles which had been authoritatively declared to be of the essence of christianity, in that model of doctrine which had been appointed to prescribe and conserve the national faith. if such doctrine _had_ been imparted to a portion of the popular mind, even though with somewhat less positive statement, less copiousness of illustration, and less cogency of enforcement than it ought; if it had been but in crude _substance_ fixed in the people's understanding, by the ministry of the many thousand authorized instructors, who were by their institute solemnly enjoined and pledged not to teach a different sort of doctrine, and not to fail of teaching this; if, we repeat, this faith, so conspicuously declared in the articles, liturgy, and homilies, had been in any degree in possession of the people, they would have recognized its main principles, or at least a similarity of principles, in the addresses of these two new preachers. they would have done so, notwithstanding a peculiarity of phraseology which whitefield and wesley carried to excess; and notwithstanding certain specialities which the latter did not, even supposing them to be truths, keep duly subordinate in exhibiting the prominent essentials of christianity. the preaching, therefore, of these men was a test of what the people had been previously taught or allowed to repose in as christian truth, under the tuition of their great religious guardian, the national church. what it was or was not would be found, in their having a sense of something like what they had been taught before, or something opposite to it, or some thing altogether foreign and unknown, when they were hearing those loud proclaimers of the old doctrines of the reformation. now then, as carrying with them this quality of a test, how were those men received in the community? why, they were generally received, on account of the import of what they said, still more than from their zealous manner of saying it, with as strong an impression of novelty, strangeness, and contrariety to everything hitherto heard of, as any of our voyagers and travellers of discovery have been by the barbarous tribes who had never before seen civilized man, or as the spaniards on their arrival in mexico or peru. they might, as the voyagers have clone, experience every local difference of moral temperament, from that which hailed them with acclamations, to that which often exploded in a volley of mud and stones; but through all these varieties of greetings, there was a strong sense of something then brought before them for the first time. "thou bringest certain strange things to our ears," was an expression not more unaffectedly uttered by any hearer of an apostle, preaching in a heathen city. and to many of the auditors, it was a matter of nearly as much difficulty as it would to an inquisitive heathen, and required as new a posture of the mind, to attain an understanding of the evangelical doctrines, though they were the very same which had been held forth by the fathers and martyrs of the english church. we have alluded to the violence, which sometimes encountered the endeavor to restore these doctrines to the knowledge and faith of the people. and if any one should have thought that, in the descriptions we have been giving, too frequent and willing use has been made of the epithet "barbarous," or similar words, as if we could have a perverse pleasure in degrading our nation, we would request him to select for himself the appropriate terms for characterizing that state of the people, in point of sense and civilization, to say nothing of religion, which could admit such a fact as this to stand in their history--namely, that, in a vast number of instances and places, where some person unexceptionable in character as far as known, and sometimes well known as a worthy man, has attempted to address a number of the inhabitants, under a roof or under the sky, on what it imported them beyond all things in the world to know and consider, a multitude have rushed together, shouting and howling, raving and cursing, and accompanying, in many of the instances, their furious cries and yells with loathsome or dangerous missiles; dragging or driving the preacher from his humble stand, forcing him, and the few that wished to encourage and hear him, to flee for their lives, sometimes not without serious injury before they could escape. and that such a history of the people may show how deservedly their superiors were denominated their "betters," it has to add, that these savage tumults were generally instigated or abetted, sometimes under a little concealment, but often avowedly, by persons of higher condition, and even by those consecrated to the office of religious instruction; and this advantage of their station was lent to defend the perpetrators against shame, or remorse, or just punishment, for the outrage. there would be no hazard in affirming, that since wesley and whitefield began the conflict with the heathenism of the country, there have been in it hundreds of occurrences answering in substance to this description. from any one, therefore, who should be inclined to accuse us of harsh language, we may well repeat the demand in what terms _he_ would think he gave the true character of a mental and moral condition, manifested in such uproars of savage violence as the christian missionaries among eastern idolaters never had the slightest cause to apprehend. these outrages were so far from uncommon, or confined to any one part of the country, some time before, and for a very long while after, the middle of the last century, that they might be fairly taken as indicating the depth at which the greatest part of the nation lay sunk in ignorance and barbarism. yet the good and zealous men whose lot it was to be thus set upon by a depraved, infuriate rabble, the foremost of them active in direct assault, and the rest venting their ferocious delight in a hideous blending of ribaldry and execration, of joking and cursing, were taxed with a canting hypocrisy, or a fanatical madness, for speaking of the prevailing ignorance and barbarism in terms equivalent to our sentence from the prophet, "the people are destroyed for lack of knowledge," and for deploring the hopelessness of any revolution in this empire of darkness by means of the existing institutions, which seemed indeed to have become themselves its strong-holds. but they whom serious danger could not deter from renewing and indefinitely repeating such attempts at all hazards, were little likely to be appalled by these contumelies of speech. to the persons so abusing them they might coolly reply, "now really you are inconsiderately wasting your labor. don't you know, that on the account of this same business we have sustained the battery of stones, brickbats, and the contents of the ditch? and can you believe we can much care for mere _words_ of insult, after that? albeit the opprobrious phrases _have_ the fetid coarseness befitting the bluster of property without education, or the more highly inspirited tone of railing learnt in a college, they are quite another kind of thing to be the mark for, than such assailments as have come from the brawny arms of some of your peasants, set on probably by broad hints or plain expressions how much you would be pleased with such exploits."--it is gratifying to see thus exemplified, in the endurance of evil for a good cause, that provision in our nature for economizing the expense of feeling, through which the encountering of the greater creates a hardihood which can despise the less. * * * * * that our descriptive observations do not exaggerate the popular ignorance, with its natural concomitants, as prevailing at the middle of the last century and far downward, many of the elderly persons among us can readily confirm, from what they remember of the testimony of their immediate ancestors. it will be recollected what pictures they gave of the moral scene spread over the country when they were young. they could convey lively images of the situations in which the vulgar notions and manners had their free display, by representing the assemblages, and the fashion of discourse and manners, at fairs, revels, and other rendezvous of amusement; or in the field of rural employment, or on the village green, or in front of the mechanic's workshop. they could recount various anecdotes characteristic of the times; and repeat short dialogues, or single sayings, which expressed the very essence of what was to the population of the township or province instead of law and prophets, or sages or apostles. they could describe how free from all sense of shame whole families would seem to be, from grand-sires down to the third rude reckless generation, for not being able to read; and how well content, when there was some one individual in the neighborhood who could read an advertisement, or ballad, or last dying speech of a malefactor, for the benefit of the rest. they could describe the desolation of the land, with respect to any enlightening and impressive religious instruction in the places of worship; in the generality of which, indeed, the whole spirit and manner of the service tended to what we just now described as the fact--that religion, in its proper sense, was absolutely _a thing not recognized at all_. to most of the persons there the forms attended to were _representative_ of literally nothing--they were _themselves_ the all. [footnote: none of the anecdotes, that have come down in traditions now fading away, are more illustrative of those times, than those which show both people and priest satisfied with the observances at church as _constituting_ religion, never thinking of them as but the means to _teach_ and _inspire_ it. such anecdotes must have been heard by every one who has conversed much with such aged persons as remember the most of former times. some traditions of this kind may be recalled to mind, through similarity of character, by hearing such an instance as the following. a friend of the writer mentions, that he heard his father, whose veracity was above all question, relate as one of the recollections of the time when he was a young man, that in the parish church where he attended, the service was one sunday morning performed with a somewhat unusual despatch, and every abbreviation that depended on the discretion of the minister; who at the conclusion explained the circumstance publicly, by saying, that as neighbor such-a-one (mentioning the name) was going to bait his bull in the afternoon, he had been as short as possible that the congregation might have good time for the sport.--it is on the same principle that the catholics on the continent, having attended mass in the morning, never think of doubting their license for every frivolity the rest of the day.] and as to those who really did in the course of their attendance acquire something assignable as their creed, our supposed reporters could tell what wretched and delusive notions of religion, or rather instead of religion, they were permitted and authorized, by their appointed spiritual guides, to carry with them to their last hour. at which hour, some ceremonial form was to be a passport to heaven: a little bread and wine, converted into a mysterious object of superstition, by receiving an ecclesiastical name of unknown import, accompanied with some sentences regarded much in the nature of an incantation--and all was safe! the sinner expiring believed so, and the sinners surviving were left to go on in their thoughtless way of life, on a calculation of the same final resource. thus the past age has left an image of its character in the minds of the generation now themselves grown old, received by immediate tradition from persons who lived in it. here and there, indeed, there still lingers, so long after the departure of the great company to which he belonged, an ancient who retains a trace of this image immediately from the reality, as having become of an age to look at the world, and take a share in its activities, about the middle of the last century. [footnote: they are here supposed to be looking back from about the year .] and it might be an employment of considerable though rather melancholy interest, for a person visiting many parts of the land, to put in requisition, in each place, for a day or two, the most faithful of the memories of the most narrative of the oldest people, for materials toward forming an estimate of the mental and moral state of the main body of the inhabitants, of town or country, in the period of which they themselves saw the latter part, and remember it in combination with what their progenitors related of the former. after these few retainers of the original picture from the life shall have left the world, it will be comparatively a faint conception that can be formed of that age from written memorials, which exist but in a very imperfect and scattered state. but supposing the scene could be brought back to the mental eye, in full verity and distinctness, as in a vision supernaturally imparted, are we sure we should not have the mortification of perceiving that the change, from the condition of the people then to their condition now, has been in but poor proportion to the amount of the advantages, which we are apt to be elated in recounting as the boast and happiness of later times? to assume that we should _not_, is to impute to that former age still more ignorance and debasement than appear in the above description. for what could, what must that condition have been, if it was worse than the present by anything near the difference made by what would be a tolerably fair improvement of the additional means latterly afforded? an estimate being made of the measure of intelligence and worth found among the descendants, let so much be taken out as we would wish to attribute to the effect of the additional means, and what will that remainder be which is to represent the state of the ancestors, formed under a system of means wanting all those which we are allowing ourselves to think important enough to warrant the frequent expression, "this new era?" the means wanting to the former generation, and that have sprung into existence for the latter, may be briefly noted; and those of a religious nature may be named first. it is the most obvious of public expedients, that good men who wish to make others _so should preach_ to them. and there has been a wonderful extension of this practice since the zealous exertions of whitefield, wesley, and their co-operators awakened other good men to a sense of their capacity and duty. the spirit actuating the associated followers of the latter of those two great agitators, has impelled forth their whole disposable force (to use a military phrase) to this service; and they have sent preachers into many parts of the land where preaching itself, in any fair sense of the term, was wholly a novelty; and where there was roused as earnest a zeal to crush this alarming innovation, as the people of iceland are described to feel on the occasion of the approach of a white bear to invade their folds or poorly stocked pastures. [footnote: the writer had just been reading that description.] to a confederacy of christians so well aware of their own strength and progress, it may seem a superfluous testimony that they are doing incalculable good among our population, more good probably than any other religious sect. this tribute is paid not the less freely for a material difference in theological opinion; nor for a wish, a quite friendly one, that they may admit some little modification of a spirit perhaps rather too sectarian in religion, and rather less than independent in politics. an immense augmentation has been brought to the sum of public instruction, by the continually enlarging numbers of dissenters of other denominations. whatever may be thought of some of the consequences of the great extension of dissent, it will hardly be considered as a circumstance tending to prolong the reign of _ignorance_ that thus, within the last fifty years, there have been put in activity to impart religious ideas to the people not fewer (exclusively of the wesleyans) than several thousand minds that would, under a continuance of the former state of the nation, have been doing no such service; that is to say, the service would not have been done at all. let it be considered, too, that the doctrines inculcated as of the first importance, in the preaching of far the greatest number of them, were exactly those which the established church avowed in its formularies and disowned in its ministry,--one of the circumstances which contributed the most to _make_ dissenters of the more seriously disposed among the people.--it is to be added, that so much public activity in religious instruction could not be unaccompanied by an increase of exertion in the more private methods of imparting it. it is another important accession to the enlarged system of operations against religious ignorance, that a proportion of the established church itself has been recovered to the spirit of its venerable founders, by the progressive formation in it of a zealous evangelical ministry; dissenters within their own community, if we may believe the constant loud declarations of the bulk of that community, and especially of the most dignified, learned, and powerful classes in it. but in spite of whatever discredit they may suffer from being thus disowned, these worthy and useful men have still, in their character of clergymen, a material advantage above other faithful teachers, for influence on many of the people, by being invested with the credentials of the ancient institution, from which the popular mind has been slow and reluctant in withdrawing its veneration; and for which that sentiment, when not quite extinct, is ready to revive at any manifestation in it of the quickening spirit of the gospel. we say, if the sentiment be not quite extinct; for we are aware what a very large proportion of the people are gone beyond the possibility of feeling it any more. but still the number is great of those who experience, at this new appearance, a reanimation of their affection for the church; and so fondly identify the partial change with the whole institution, that they feel as if a parent, who had for a long while neglected or deserted them, but for whom they could never cease to cherish a filial regard, were beginning to be restored to them, with a renewal of the benignant qualities and cares of the parental character. * * * * * thus far the account of the means which england was not to furnish for its people till the latter part of the eighteenth century, relates to their better instruction in religion. this will not be thought beside the purpose of an enumeration of expedients for lessening their _ignorance_, by any one who can allow that religion, regarded as a subject of the understanding, is the most important part of knowledge, and who has observed the fact that religion, when it begins to _interest_ uncultivated minds, works surprisingly in favor of the intellectual faculties; an effect exactly the reverse of that of superstition, and produced by the contrary operation; for while superstition represses, and even curses any free action of the intellect, genuine religion both requires and excites it. though it is too true that the great christian principles, when embraced with conviction and seriousness by a very uneducated man, must greatly partake, by contractedness of apprehension, the ill fortune which has confined his mental growth, yet they will often do more than any other thing within the same space of time to avenge him of it. in addition to the great extension of instruction in a form specifically religious, there have been various causes and means contributing to the increase of knowledge among the people. after it had been seen for centuries in what manner the children of the poor were suffered to spend the sunday, it struck one observer at last, that they might on that day be taught to read!--a possibility which had never been suspected; a disclosure as of some hitherto hidden power of nature. and then the schools which taught the children to read made some of the parents so much better pleased with their children for their first steps in so new an attainment, that they could not be indifferent to the opening of other schools of a humble order to continue that instruction through the week. it was within the same period that there was a large circulation of tracts, by some of which many who might be little desirous of instruction, were beguiled into it by the amusing vehicle ingeniously contrived to convey it; and the most popular of which will remain a monument of the talent, knowledge, and benevolence, of that distinguished benefactor of her country and age, mrs. h. more, perhaps even pre-eminent above her many excellent works in a higher strain. later and continual issues of this class of papers, of every diversity of composition, and diffused by the activity of numberless hands, have solicited perhaps a fourth part of the thoughtless beings in the nation to make at least one short effort to think. the enormous flight of periodical miscellanies, and of newspapers, must be taken as both the indication and the cause that hundreds of thousands of persons were giving some attention to the matters of general information, where their grandfathers had been, during the intervals of time allowed by their employments, prating, brawling, sleeping, or drinking their hours away. [footnote: since this was written there has been a prodigious augmentation of all such means of general excitement; and happily a diversified multiplication of a class of them calculated to benefit the inferior people, at once by giving them a new and enlarged range of ideas, and by bringing them on some tracts of common ground with the liberally educated; thus abating the former almost total incapacity, on the part of those inferiors, for intelligent intercommunication.] it is perhaps an item of some small value in the account, that a new class of ideas was furnished by the many wonderful effects of science, in the application of the elements and mechanical powers. the people saw human intelligence so effectually inspiriting inanimate matter, as to create a new and mighty order of agency, appearing in a certain degree independent of man himself, and in its power immensely surpassing any simple immediate exertion of _his_ power. they saw wood and iron, fire, water, and air, actuated to the production of effects which might vie with what their rude ancestors had been accustomed to believe, (those of them who had heard of such beings,) of giants, magicians, alchymists, and monsters; effects, the dream of which, if any one could so have dreamed, would have been scoffed at by even the more intelligent of the former race. it is true that very ignorant persons can wonder at such things without deriving much instruction from them; and that much sooner than the more cultivated ones they become so familiarized with them as not to think of them. all _effects_, however astonishing, are apt, if they are but regular in their recurrence, to become soon insignificant to those who have never learnt to inquire into _causes_. but still, it would be some little advantage to the people's understanding to see what prodigious effects could be produced without any preternatural interference. though not comprehending the science employed, they could comprehend that what they saw _was_ purely a matter of science, and that the cause and the effect were natural and definite; unlike the present race of egyptians, who not long since regarded the very mechanics of an european as an operation of magic; and were capable of suspecting that a machine constructed by a man from england, for raising water from the nile, should inundate the country in an hour. these wonders of science and art must therefore have contributed somewhat to rid our people of the impression of being at every turn beset by occult powers, under the name perhaps of witchcraft, and to expel the notions of a vague and capricious agency interfering and sporting with events throughout the system around them. their rationality thus obtained an improvement, which may be set against the injury undoubtedly done them through that diminished exercise of the understanding which accompanied the progressive division of labor; an alteration rendered inevitable, and in other respects so advantageous. when we come down to a comparatively recent time, we see the bible "going up on the breadth of the land." in passing by any given number of houses of the inferior class, we may presume there are in them four or five times as many copies of that sacred book as there were in the same number thirty or forty years since. and when we consider how many more persons in those houses can read, and that in some of them the book may be _more_ read for having come there as a novelty, than it is in many others where it has been an old article of the furniture, we may fairly presume that the increased reading is in a greater proportion than the increased number of bibles.--this late period has also brought into action a new expedient, worthy to stand, in the province of education, parallel and rival to the most useful modern inventions in the mechanical departments; an organization for schools, by which, instead of one or two overlabored agents upon a mass of reluctant subjects, that whole mass itself shall be animated into a system of reciprocal agency. it has all the merit of a contrivance which associates with mental labor a pleasure never known to young learners before. one more distinction of our times has been, that effect which missionary and other philanthropic societies have had, to render familiar to common knowledge, by means of their meetings and publications, a great number of such interesting and important facts, in the state of other countries and our own, as were formerly quite beyond the sphere of ordinary information. in aid of all these means at work in the trial to raise the people from the condition in which they had been so many ages sunk and immovable, there has been of late years the unpretending but important ministration of an incessant multifarious inventiveness in making almost every sort of information offer itself in brief, familiar, and attractive forms, adapted to youth or to adult ignorance; so that knowledge, which was formerly a thing to be searched and dug for "as for hid treasures," has seemed at last beginning to effloresce through the surface of the ground on all sides of us. the statement of what recent times have produced for effecting an alteration among the people, must include the prodigious excitement in the political world. it were absurd, it is true, to name this in the simple character of a _cause_, when we speak of the rousing of the popular mind from a long stagnation; it being itself a proof and result of some preceding cause beginning to pervade and disturb that stagnation. but whatever may be assigned as the true and sufficient explanation of its origin, we have to look on the mighty operation of its progress, forcing a restlessness, instability, and tendency to change, into almost every part of the social economy. in the whole compass of time there has been no train of events, that has within so short a period stirred to the very bottom the mind of so vast a portion of the race. and the power of this great commotion has less consisted in what may be termed its physical energy, evinced in grand exploits and catastrophes, than in its being an intense activity of _principles_. it was as different from other convulsions in the moral world, as would be a tempest attributed to the direct intervention of a mighty spirit, whether believed celestial or infernal, from one raised in the elements by mere natural causes. the people were not, as in other instances of battles, revolutions, and striking alternations of fortune, gazing a at mere show of wonderful events, but regarded these events as the course of a great practical debate of questions affecting their own interests. and now, when we have put all these things together, we may well pause to indulge again our wonder what _could_ have been the mental situation of a majority of the inhabitants of this country, antecedently to this creation and conjunction of so many means and influences for awaking them to something of an intelligent existence. section iii. the review of the past may here be terminated. and how welcome a change it would be if we might here completely emerge from the gloom which has overspread it. how happy were it if in proceeding to an estimate of the people of the present times, we found so rich a practical result of the means for forming a more enlightened race, that we should have no further recollection of that sentence from the prophet, which has hitherto suggested itself again at every step in prosecution of the survey. but we are compelled to see how slow is the progress of mankind toward thus rendering obsolete any of the darker lines of the sacred record. so completely, so desperately, had the whole popular body and being been pervaded by the stupifying power of the long reign of ignorance, with such heavy reluctance, at the best, does the human mind open its eyes to admit light,--and so incommensurate as yet, even on the supposition of its having much less of this reluctance, has been in quantity the whole new supply of means for a happy change,--that a most melancholy spectacle still abides before us. time, in sweeping away successive generations, has preserved, in substance, the sad inheritance to that which is as yet the latest. even that portion of beneficial effect which actually has resulted from this co-operation of new forces, has served to make a more obvious exposure of the unhappiness and offensiveness of what is still the condition of the far greater part of our population; as a dreary waste is made, to give a more sensible impression how dreary it is, by the little inroads of cultivation and beauty in its hollows, and the faint advances of an unwonted green upon its borders. the degradation of the main body of the lower classes is exposed by a comparison with the small reclaimed portion within those classes themselves. it is not with the philosophers, literati, and most accomplished persons in higher life, that we should think of placing in immediate comparison the untutored rustics and workmen in stones and timber, for the purpose of showing how much is wanting to them. these extreme orders of society would seem less related in virtue of their common nature, than separated by the wide disparity of its cultivation. they would appear so immeasurably asunder, such antipodes in the sphere of human existence, that the state of the one could afford no standard for judging of the defects or wants of the other. it was not in a speculation which amused itself, as with a curious fact, in seeing that the same material can be made into scholars, legislators, sages, and models of elegance--and also into helots; and then went into a fanciful question of how near they might possibly be brought together: it was in a speculation which, instead of dwelling on the view of what was impossible to the common people in a comparative reference to the highest classes of their fellow-men, considered what was left practicable to them within their own narrow allotment, that the schemes originated which have actually imparted to a proportion of them an invaluable share of the benefits of knowledge. there has thus been formed a small improved order of people amidst the multitude; and it is the contrast between these and the general state of that multitude that most directly exposes the popular debasement. it certainly were ridiculous enough to fix on a laboring man and his family, and affect to deplore that he is doomed not to behold the depths and heights of science, not to expatiate over the wide field of history, not to luxuriate among the delights, refinements, and infinite diversities of literature; and that his family are not growing up in a training to every high accomplishment, after the pattern of some family in the neighborhood, favored by fortune, and high ability and cultivation in those at their head. but it is a quite different thing to take this man and his family, hardly able, perhaps, even to read, and therefore sunk in all the grossness of ignorance,--and compare them with another man and family in the same sphere of life, but who have received the utmost improvement within the reach of that situation, and are sensible of its value; who often employ the leisure hour in reading, (sometimes socially and with intermingled converse,) some easy work of instruction or innocent entertainment; are detached, in the greatest degree that depends on their choice, from society with the absolute vulgar; have learnt much decorum of manners; can take an intelligent interest in the great events of the world; and are prevented, by what they read and hear, from forgetting that there is another world. it is, we repeat, after thus seeing what may, and in particular instances does exist, in a humble condition, that we are compelled to regard as really a dreadful spectacle the still prevailing state of our national population. we shall endeavor to exhibit, though on a small scale, and perhaps not with a very strict regularity of proportion and arrangement, a faithful representation of the most serious of the evils conspicuous in an uneducated state of the people. much of the description and reflections must be equally applicable to other countries; for spite of all their mutual antipathies and hostilities, and numberless contrarieties of customs and fashions, they have been wonderfully content to resemble one another in the worst national feature, a deformed condition of their people. but it is here at home that this condition is the most painfully forced on our attention; and here also of all the world it is, that such a wretched exhibition is the severest reproach to the nation for having suffered its existence. the subject is to the last degree unattractive, except to a misanthropic disposition; or to that, perhaps, of a stern theological polemic, when tempted to be pleased with every superfluity of evidence for overwhelming the opposers of the doctrine which asserts the radical corruption of our nature. as spread over a coarse and repulsive moral and physical scenery, it is a subject in the extreme of contrast with that susceptibility of magnificent display, on account of which some of the most cruel evils that have preyed on mankind have ever been favorite themes with writers ambitious to shine in description. nor does it present a wild and varying spectacle, where a crowd of fantastic shapes (as in a view of the pagan superstitions,) may stimulate and beguile the imagination though we know we are looking on a great evil. it is a gloomy monotony; death without his dance. moreover, the representation which exhibits one large class degraded and unhappy, reflects ungraciously, and therefore repulsively, by an imputation of neglect of duty, on the other classes who are called upon to look at the spectacle. there is, besides, but little power of arresting the attention in a description of familiar matter of fact, plain to every one's observation. yet ought it not to be so much the better, when we are pleading for a certain mode of benevolent exertion, that every one can see, and that no one can deny, the sad reality of all that forms the object, and imposes the duty, of that exertion? look, then, at the neglected ignorant class in their childhood and youth. one of the most obvious circumstances is the _perfect non-existence in their minds of any notion or question what their life is for, taken as a whole._ among a crowd of trifling and corrupting ideas that soon find a place in them, there is never the reflective thought,--for what purpose am i alive? what is it that i should be, more than the animal that i am? does it signify _what_ i may be?--but surely, it is with ill omen that the human creature advances into life without such a thought. he should in the opening of his faculties receive intimations, that something more belongs to his existence than what he is about to-day, and what he may be about to-morrow. he should be made aware that the course of activity he is beginning ought to have a leading principle of direction, some predominant aim, a general and comprehensive purpose, paramount to the divers particular objects he may pursue. it is not more necessary for him to understand that he must in some way be employed in order to live, than to be apprized that life itself, that existence itself, is of no value but as a mere capacity of something which he should realize, and of which he may fail. he should be brought to apprehend that there is a something essential for him to _be_, which he will not _become_ merely by passing from one day into another, by eating and sleeping, by growing taller and stronger, seizing what share he can of noisy sport, and performing appointed portions of work; and that if he do _not_ become that which, he _cannot_ become without a general and leading purpose, he will be worthless and unhappy. we are not entertaining the extravagant fancy that it is possible, except in some rare instances of premature thoughtfulness, to turn inward into deep habitual reflection, the spirit that naturally goes outward in these vivacious, active, careless beings, when we assert that it _is_ possible to teach many of them with a degree of success, in very juvenile years, to apprehend and admit somewhat of such a consideration. we have many times seen this exemplified in fact. we have found some of them appearing apprized that _life is for something as a whole_; and that, to answer this general purpose, a mere succession of interests and activities, each gone into for its own sake, will not suffice. they could comprehend, that the multiplicity of interests and activities in detail, instead of constituting of themselves the purpose of life, were to be regarded as things subordinate and subservient to a general scope, and judged of, selected, and regulated, in reference and amenableness to it.--by the presiding comprehensive purpose, we do not specifically and exclusively mean a direction of the mind to the _religious_ concern, viewed as a separate affair, and in _contradistinction_ to other interests; but a purpose formed upon a collective notion of the person's interests, which shall give one general right bearing to the course of his life; an aim proceeding in fulfilment of a scheme, that comprehends and combines with the religious concern all the other concerns for the sake of which it is worth while to dispose the activities of life into a _plan_ of conduct, instead of leaving them to custom and casualty. the scheme will look and guide toward ultimate felicity: but will at the same time take large account of what must be thought of, and what may be hoped for, in relation to the present life. now, we no more expect to find any such idea of a presiding purpose of life, than we do the profoundest philosophical reflection, in the minds of the uneducated children and youth. they think nothing at all about their existence and life in any moral or abstracted or generalizing reference whatever. they know not any good that it is to have been endowed with a rational rather than a brute nature, excepting that it affords more diversity of action, and gives the privilege of tyrannizing over brutes. they think nothing about what they shall become, and very little about what shall become of them. there is nothing that tells them of the relations for good and evil, of present things with future and remote ones. the whole energy of their moral and intellectual nature goes out as in brute instinct on present objects, to make the most they can of them for the moment, taking the chance for whatever may be next. they are left totally devoid even of the thought, that what they are doing is the beginning of a life as an important adventure for good or evil; their whole faculty is engrossed in the doing of it; and whether it signify anything to the next ensuing stage of life, or to the last, is as foreign to any calculation of theirs, as the idea of reading their destiny in the stars. not only, therefore, is there an entire preclusion from their minds of the faintest hint of a monition, that they should live for the grand final object pointed to by religion, but also, for the most part, of all consideration of the attainment of a reputable condition and character in life. the creature endowed with faculties for "large discourse, looking before and after," capable of so much design, respectability, and happiness, even in its present short stage, and entering on an endless career, is seen in the abasement of snatching, as its utmost reach of purpose, at the low amusements, blended with vices, of each passing day; and cursing its privations and tasks, and often also the sharers of those privations, and the exactors of those tasks. when these are grown up into the mass of mature population, what will it be, as far as their quality shall go toward constituting the quality of the whole? alas! it will be, to that extent, just a continuation of the ignorance, debasement, and misery, so conspicuous in the bulk of the people now. and to _what_ extent? calculate _that_ from the unquestionable fact that hundreds of thousands of the human beings in our land, between the ages, say of six and sixteen, are at this hour thus abandoned to go forward into life at random, as to the use they shall make of it,--if, indeed, it can be said to be at random, when there is strong tendency and temptation to evil, and no discipline to good. looking at this proportion, does any one think there will be, on the whole, wisdom and virtue enough in the community to render this black infusion imperceptible or innoxious? but are we accounting it absolutely inevitable that the sequel must be in full proportion to this present fact,--_must_ be everything that this fact threatens, and _can_ lead to,--as we should behold persons carried down in a mighty torrent, where all interposition is impossible, or as the turks look at the progress of a conflagration or an epidemic? it is in order to "frustrate the tokens" of such melancholy divination, to arrest something of what a destructive power is in the act of carrying away, to make the evil spirit find, in the next stages of his march, that all his enlisted host have not followed him, and to quell somewhat of the triumph of his boast, "my name is legion, for we are many;"--it is for this that the friends of improvement, and of mankind, are called upon for efforts greatly beyond those which are requisite for maintaining in its present extent of operation the system of expedients for intercepting, before it be too late, the progress of so large a portion of the youthful tribe toward destruction. another obvious circumstance in the state of the untaught class is, _that they are abandoned, in a direct, unqualified manner, to seize recklessly whatever they can of sensual gratification_. the very narrow scope to which their condition limits them in the pursuit of this, will not prevent its being to them the most desirable thing in existence, when there are so few other modes of gratification which they either are in a capacity to enjoy, or have the means to obtain. by the very constitution of the human nature, the mind seems half to belong to the senses, it is so shut within them, affected by them, dependent on them for pleasure, as well as for activity, and impotent but through their medium. and while, by this necessary hold which they have on what would call itself a spiritual being, they absolutely will engross to themselves, as of clear right, a large share of its interest and exercise, they will strive to possess themselves of the other half too. and they will have it, if it has not been carefully otherwise claimed and pre-occupied. and when the senses have thus usurped the whole mind for their service, how will you get any of it back? try, if you will, whether this be a thing so easy to be done. present to the minds so engrossed with the desires of the senses, that their main action is but in these desires and the contrivances how to fulfil them,--offer to their view nobler objects, which are appropriate to the spiritual being, and observe whether that being promptly shows a sensibility to the worthier objects, as congenial to its nature, and, obsequious to the new attraction, disengages itself from what has wholly absorbed it. nor would we require that the experiment be made by presenting something of a precisely religious nature, to which there is an innate aversion on account of its _divine_ character, separately from its being an intellectual thing,--an aversion even though the mental faculties _be_ cultivated. it may be made with something that ought to have power to please the mind as simply a being of intelligence, imagination, and sentiment,--a pleasure which, in some of its modes, the senses themselves may intimately partake; as when, for instance, it is to be imparted by something beautiful or grand in the natural world, or in the works of art. let this refined solicitation be addressed to the grossly uncultivated, in competition with some low indulgence--with the means, for example, of gluttony and inebriation. see how the subjects of your experiment, (intellectual and moral natures though they are,) answer to these respective offered gratifications. observe how these more dignified attractives encounter and overpower the meaner, and reclaim the usurped, debased spirit. or rather, observe whether they can avail for more than an instant, so much as to divide its attention. but indeed you can foresee the result so well, that you may spare the labor. still less could you deem it to be of the nature of an experiment, (which implies uncertainty,) to make the attempt with ideal forms of nobleness or beauty, with intellectual, poetical, or moral captivations. yet this addiction to sensuality, beyond all competition of worthier modes and means of interest, does not altogether refuse to admit of some division and diversion of the vulgar feelings, in favor of some things of a more mental character, provided they be vicious. a man so neglected in his youth that he cannot spell the names of alexander, cæsar, or napoleon, or read them if he see them spelt, may feel the strong incitement of ambition. this, instead of raising him, may only propel him forward on the level of his debased condition and society; and it is a favorable supposition that makes him "the best wrestler on the green," or a manful pugilist; for it is probable his grand delight may be, to indulge himself in an oppressive, insolent arrogance toward such as are unable to maintain a strife with him on terms of fair rivalry, making his will the law to all whom he can force or frighten into submission. coarse sensuality admits, again, an occasional competition of the gratifications of cruelty; a flagrant characteristic, generally, of uncultivated degraded human creatures, both where the whole community consists of such, as in barbarian and savage tribes, and where they form a large portion of it, as in this country.--it is hardly worth while to put in words the acknowledgment of the obvious and odious fact, that a considerable share of mental attainment is sometimes inefficient to extinguish, or even repress, this infernal principle of human nature, by which it is gratifying to witness and inflict suffering, even separately from any prompting of revenge. but why do we regard such examples as peculiarly hateful, and brand them with the most intense reprobation, but _because_ it is judged the fair and natural tendency of mental cultivation to repress that principle, insomuch that its failure to do so is considered as evincing a surpassing virulence of depravity? every one is ready with the saying of the ancient poet, that liberal acquirements suppress ferocious propensities. but if the whole virtue of such discipline may prove insufficient, think what must be the consequence of its being almost wholly withheld, so that the execrable propensity may go into action with its malignity unmitigated, unchecked, by any remonstrance of feeling or taste, or reason or conscience. and such a consequence is manifest in the lower ranks of our self-extolled community; notwithstanding a diminution, which the progress of education and religion has slowly effected, in certain of the once most favorite and customary practices of cruelty; what we might denominate the classic games of the rude populace. these very practices, nevertheless, still keep their ground in some of the more heathenish parts of the country; and if it were possible, that the more improved notions and taste of the more respectable classes could admit of any countenance being given to their revival in the more civilized parts, it would be found that, even there, a large portion of the people is to this hour left in a disposition which would welcome the return of savage exhibitions. it may be, that some of the most atrocious forms and degrees of cruelty would not please the greater number of them; there have been instances in which an english populace has shown indignation at extreme and _unaccustomed_ perpetrations, sometimes to the extent of cruelly revenging them; very rarely, however, when only brute creatures have been the sufferers. not many would be delighted with such scenes as those which, in the _place de grève_, used to be a gratification to a multitude of all ranks of the parisians. but how many odious facts, characteristic of our people, have come under every one's observation. who has not seen numerous instances of the delight with which advantage is taken of weakness or simplicity, to practise upon them some sly mischief, or inflict some open mortification; and of the unrepressed glee with which the rude spectators can witness or abet the malice? and if, in such a case, an indignant observer has hazarded a remark or expostulation, the full stare, and the quickly succeeding laugh and retort of brutal scorn, have thrown open to his revolting sight the state of the recess within, where the moral sentiments are; and shown how much the perceptions and notions had been indebted to the cares of the instructor. could he help thinking what was deserved somewhere, by individuals or by the local community collectively, for suffering a being to grow up to quite or nearly the complete dimensions and features of manhood, with so vile a thing within it in substitution for what a soul should be? we need not remark, what every one has noticed, how much the vulgar are amused by seeing vexatious or injurious incidents, (if only not quite disastrous or tragical,) befalling persons against whom they can have no resentment; how ferocious often their temper and means of revenge when they _have_ causes of resentment; or how intensely delighted, (in company, it is true, with many that are called their betters,) in beholding several of their fellow-mortals, whether in anger or athletic competition, covering each other with bruises, deformity, and blood. our institutions, however, protect, in some considerable degree, man against man, as being framed in a knowledge of what would else become of the community. but observe a moment what are the dispositions of the vulgar as indulged, and with no preventive interference of those institutions, on the inferior animals. to a large proportion of this class it is, in their youth, one of the most vivid exhilarations to witness the terrors and anguish of living beings. in many parts of the country it would be no improbable conjecture in explanation of a savage yell heard at a distance, that a company of rationals may be witnessing the writhings, agonies, and cries, of some animal struggling for escape or for life, while it is suffering the infliction, perhaps, of stones, and kicks, or wounds by more directly fatal means of violence. if you hear in the clamor a sudden burst of fiercer exultation, you may surmise that just then a deadly blow has been given. there is hardly an animal on the whole face of the country, of size enough, and enough within reach to be a marked object of attention, that would not be persecuted to death if no consideration of ownership interposed. the children of the uncultivated families are allowed, without a check, to exercise and improve the hateful disposition, on flies, young birds, and other feeble and harmless creatures; and they are actually encouraged to do it on what, under the denomination of vermin, are represented in the formal character of enemies, almost in such a sense as if a moral responsibility belonged to them, and they were therefore not only to be destroyed as a nuisance, but deserving to be punished as offenders. the hardening against sympathy, with the consequent carelessness of inflicting pain, combined as this will probably be, with the _love_ of inflicting it, must be confirmed by the horrid spectacle of slaughter; a spectacle sought for gratification by the children and youth of the lower order; and in many places so publicly exhibited that they cannot well avoid seeing it, and its often savage preliminary circumstances, sometimes directly wanton aggravations; perhaps in revenge of a struggle to resist or escape, perhaps in a rage at the awkward manner in which the victim adjusts itself to a convenient position for suffering. horrid, we call the prevailing practice, because it is the infliction, on millions of sentient and innocent creatures every year, in what calls itself a humane and christian nation, of anguish unnecessary to the purpose. unnecessary--what proof is there to the contrary?--to _what_ is the present practice necessary?--some readers will remember the benevolent (we were going to say _humane_, but that is an equivocal epithet,) attempt made a number of years since by lord somerville to introduce, but he failed, a mode of slaughter, without suffering; a mode in use in a foreign nation with which we should deem it very far from a compliment to be placed on a level in point of civilization. and it is a flagrant dishonor to such a country, and to the class that virtually, by rank, and formally, by official station, have presided over its economy, one generation after another, that so hideous a fact should never, as far as we know, have been deemed by the highest state authorities worth even a question whether a mitigation might not be practicable. an inconceivable daily amount of suffering, inflicted on unknown thousands of creatures, dying in slow anguish, when their death might be without pain as being instantaneous, is accounted no deformity in the social system, no incongruity with the national profession of religion of which the essence is charity and mercy, nothing to sully the polish, or offend the refinement, of what demands to be accounted, in its higher portions, a pre-eminently civilized and humanized community. precious and well protected polish and refinement, and humanity, and christian civilization! to which it is a matter of easy indifference to know that, in the neighborhood of their abode, those tortures of butchery are unnecessarily inflicted, which could not be actually witnessed by persons in whom the pretension to these fine qualities is anything better than affectation, without sensations of horror; which it would ruin the character of a fine gentleman or lady to have voluntarily witnessed in a single instance. they are known to be inflicted, and yet this is a trifle not worth an effort toward innovation on inveterate custom, on the part of the influential classes; who may be far more worthily intent on a change in the fashion of a dress, or possibly some new refinement in the cookery of the dead bodies of the victims. or the _living_ bodies; as we are told that the most delicious preparation of an eel for exquisite palates is to thrust the fish alive into the fire: while lobsters are put into water _gradually_ heated to boiling. the latter, indeed, is an old practice, like that of _crimping_ another fish. such things are allowed or required to be done by persons pretending to the highest refinement. it is a matter far below legislative attention; while the powers of definition are exhausted under the stupendous accumulation of regulations and interdictions for the good order of society. so hardened may the moral sense of a community be by universal and continual custom, that we are perfectly aware these very remarks will provoke the ridicule of many persons, including, it is possible enough, some who may think it quite consistent to be ostentatiously talking at the very same time of christian charity and benevolent zeal. [footnote: this was actually done in a religious periodical publication.] nor will that ridicule be repressed by the notoriety of the fact, that the manner of the practice referred to steels and depraves, to a dreadful degree, a vast number of human beings immediately employed about it; and, as a spectacle, powerfully contributes to confirm, in a greater number, exactly that which it is, by eminence, the object of moral tuition to counteract--men's disposition to make-light of all suffering but their own. this one thing, this not caring for what may be endured by other beings made liable to suffering, is the very essence of the depravity which is so fatal to our race in their social constitution. this selfish hardness is moral plague enough even in an inactive state, as a mere carelessness what other beings may suffer; but there lurks in it a malignity which is easily stimulated to delight in seeing or causing their suffering. and yet, we repeat it, a civilized and christian nation feels not the slightest self-displacency for its allowing a certain unhappy but necessary part in the economy of the world to be executed, (by preference to a harmless method,) in a manner which probably does as much to corroborate in the vulgar class this essential principle of depravity, as all the expedients of melioration yet applied are doing to expel it. were it not vain and absurd to muse on supposable new principles in the constitution of the moral system, there is one that we might have been tempted to wish for, namely, that, of all suffering _unnecessarily_ and wilfully inflicted by man on any class of sentient existence, a bitter intimation and participation might be conveyed to him through a mysterious law of nature, enforcing an avenging sympathy in severe proportion to that suffering, on all the men who are really accountable for its being inflicted. after children and youth are trained to behold with something worse than hardened indifference, with a gratifying excitement, the sufferings of creatures dying for the service of man, it is no wonder if they are barbarous in their treatment of those that serve him by their life. and in fact nothing is more obvious as a prevailing disgrace to our nation, than the cruel habits of the lower class toward the laboring animals committed to their power. these animals have no security in their best condition and most efficient services; but generally the hateful disposition is the most fully exercised on those that have been already the greatest sufferers. meeting, wherever we go, with some of these starved, abused, exhausted figures, we shall not unfrequently meet with also another figure accompanying them--that of a ruffian, young or old, who with a visage of rage, and accents of hell, is wreaking his utmost malevolence on a wretched victim for being slow in performing, or quite failing to perform, what the excess of loading, and perhaps the feebleness of old age, have rendered difficult or absolutely impracticable; or for shrinking from an effort to be made by a pressure on bleeding sores, or for losing the right direction through blindness, and that itself perhaps occasioned by hardship or savage violence. many of the exacters of animal labor really seem to resent it as a kind of presumption and insult in the slave, that it would be anything else than a machine, that the living being should betray under its toils that it suffers, that it is pained, weary, or reluctant. and if, by outrageous abuse, it should be excited to some manifestation of resentment, that is a crime for which the sufferer would be likely to incur such a fury and repetition of blows and lacerations as to die on the spot, but for an interfering admonition of interest against destroying such a piece of property, and losing so much service. when that service has utterly exhausted, often before the term of old age, the strength of those wretched animals, there awaits many of them a last short stage of still more remorseless cruelty; that in which it is become a doubtful thing whether the utmost efforts to which the emaciated, diseased, sinking frame can be forced by violence, be worth the trouble of that violence, the delays and accidents, and the expense of the scanty supply of subsistence. as they must at all events very soon perish, it has ceased to be of any material consequence, on the score of interest, how grossly they may be abused; and their tormentors seem delighted with this release from all restraint on their dispositions. those dispositions, as indulged in some instances, when the miserable creatures are formally consigned to be destroyed, cannot be much exceeded by anything we can attribute to fiends. some horrid exemplifications were adduced, not as single casual circumstances, but as usual practices, by a patriotic senator some years since, in endeavoring to obtain a legislative enactment in mitigation of the sufferings of the brute tribes. the design vanished to nothing in the house of commons, under the effect of argument and ridicule from a person distinguished for intellectual cultivation; whose resistance was not only against that specific measure, but avowedly against the principle itself on which _any_ measure of the same tendency could ever be founded. [footnote: lord erskine's memorable bill, triumphantly scouted by the late mr. windham.--undoubtedly there are considerable difficulties in the way of legislation on the subject; but an equal share of difficulty attending some other subjects--an affair of revenue, for instance, or a measure for the suppression (at that time) of political opinion--would soon have been overcome.] nor could any victory have pleased him better, probably, than one which contributed to prolong the barbarism of the people, as the best security, he deemed, for their continuing fit to labor at home and fight abroad. it might have added to this gratification to hear (as was the fact) his name pronounced with delight by ruffians of all classes, who regarded him as their patron saint. if any one should be inclined to interpose here with a remark, that after _such_ a reference, we have little right to ascribe to those classes, as if it were peculiarly one of their characteristics, the insensibility to the sufferings of the brute creation, and to number it formally among the results of the "lack of knowledge," we can only reply, that however those of higher order may explode any attempt to make the most efficient authority of the nation bear repressively upon the evil, and however it may in other ways be abetted by them, it is, at any rate, in those inferior classes chiefly that the actual perpetrators of it are found. it is something to say in favor of cultivation, that it does, generally speaking, render those who have the benefit of it incapable of practising, _themselves_, the most palpably flagrant of these cruelties which they may be virtually countenancing, by some things which they do, and some things which they omit or refuse to do. mr. windham would not himself have practised a wanton barbarity on a poor horse or ass, though he scouted any legislative attempt to prevent it among his inferiors. * * * * * the proper place would perhaps have been nearer the beginning of this description of the characteristics of our uneducated people, for one so notorious, and one entering so much into the essence of the evils already named, as that we mention next; _a rude, contracted, unsteady, and often perverted sense of right and wrong in general_. it is curious to look into a large volume of religious casuistry, the work of some divine of a former age, (for instance bishop taylor's _ductor dubitantium,_) with the reflection what a conscience disciplined in the highest degree might be; and then to observe what this regulator of the soul actually is where there has been no sound discipline of the reason, and where there is no deep religious sentiment to rectify the perceptions in the absence of an accurate intellectual discrimination of things. this sentiment being wanting, dispositions and conduct cannot be taken account of according to the distinction between holiness and sin; and in the absence of a cultivated understanding, they cannot be brought to the test of the distinguishing law between propriety and turpitude; nor estimated upon any comprehensive notion of utility. the evidence of all this is thick and close around us; so that every serious observer has been struck and almost shocked to observe, in what a very small degree conscience is a _necessary_ attribute of the human creature; and how nearly a nonentity the whole system of moral principles may be, as to any recognition of it by an unadapted spirit. while that system is of a substance veritable and eternal, and stands forth in its exceeding breadth, marked with the strongest characters and prominences, it has to these persons hardly the reality or definiteness of a shadow, except in a few matters, if we may so express it, of the grossest bulk. there must be glaring evidence of something bad in what is done, or questioned whether to be done, before conscience will come to its duty, or give proof of its existence. there must be a violent alarm of mischief or danger before this drowsy and ignorant magistrate will interfere. and since occasions thus involving flagrant evil cannot be of very frequent occurrence in the life of the generality of the people, it is probable that many of them have considerably protracted exemptions from any interference of conscience at all; it is certain that they experience no such pertinacious attendance of it, as to feel habitually a monitory intimation, that without great thought and care they will inevitably do something wrong. but what may we judge and presage of the moral fortunes of a sojourner, of naturally corrupt propensity, in this bad world, who is not haunted, sometimes to a degree of alarm, by this monitory sense, through the whole course of his life? what is likely to become of him, if he shall go hither and thither on the scene exempt from all sensible obstruction of the many interdictions, of a nature too refined for any sense but the vital tenderness of conscience to perceive? obstructions of a more gross and tangible nature he is continually meeting. a large portion of what he is accustomed to see presents itself to him in the character of boundary and prohibition; on every hand there is something to warn him what he must not do. there are high walls, and gates, and fences, and brinks of torrents and precipices; in short, an order of things on all sides signifying to him, with more or less of menace,--thus far and no further. and he is in a general way obsequious to this arrangement. we do not ordinarily expect to see him carelessly transgressing the most decided of the artificial boundaries, or daring across those dreadful ones of nature. but, nearly destitute of the faculty to perceive, (as in coming in contact with something charged with the element of lightning,) the awful interceptive lines of that other arrangement which he is in the midst of as a subject of the laws of god, we see with what insensibility he can pass through those prohibitory significations of the almighty will, which are to devout men as lines streaming with an infinitely more formidable than material fire. and if we look on to his future course, proceeding under so fatal a deficiency, the consequence foreseen is, that those lines of divine interdiction which he has not conscience to perceive as meant to deter him, he will seem as if he had acquired, through a perverted will, a recognition of in another quality--as temptations to attract him. but to leave these terms of generality and advert to a few particulars of illustration:--recollect how commonly persons of the class described are found utterly violating truth, not in hard emergencies only, but as an habitual practice, and apparently without the slightest reluctance or compunction, their moral sense quite at rest under the accumulation of a thousand deliberate falsehoods. it is seen that by far the greater number of them think it no harm to take little unjust advantages in their dealings, by deceptive management; and very many would take the greatest but for fear of temporal consequences; would do it, that is to say, without inquietude of conscience, in the proper sense. it is the testimony of experience from persons who have had the most to transact with them, that the indispensable rule of proceeding is to assume generally their want of principle, and leave it to time and prolonged trial to establish, rather slowly, the individual exceptions. those unknowing admirers of human nature, or of english character, who are disposed to exclaim against this as an illiberal rule, may be recommended to act on what they will therefore deem a liberal one--at their cost. that power of established custom, which is so great, as we had occasion to show, on the moral sense of even better instructed persons, has its dominion complete over that of the vulgar; insomuch that the most unequivocal iniquity of a practice long suffered to exist, shall hardly bring to their mere recollection the common acknowledged rule not to do as we would wish not done to us. from recent accounts it appears, that the entire coast of our island is not yet clear of those people called _wreckers_, who felt not a scruple to appropriate whatever they could seize of the lading of vessels cast ashore, and even whatever was worth tearing from the personal possession of the unfortunate beings who might be escaping but just alive from the most dreadful peril. the cruelty we have so largely attributed to our english vulgar, never recoils on them in self-reproach. the habitual indulgence of the irascible, vexatious, and malicious tempers, to the plague or terror of all within reach, scarcely ever becomes a subject of judicial estimate, as a character hateful in the abstract, with them a reflection of that estimate on the man's own self. he reflects but just enough to say to himself that it is all right and deserved, and unavoidable, too, for he is unpardonably crossed and provoked; nor will he be driven from this self-approval, when it may be evident to every one else that the provocations are comparatively slight, and are only taken as offences by a disposition habitually seeking occasions to vent its spite. the inconvenience and vexation incident to low vice, may make the offenders fret at themselves for having been so foolish, but it is in general with an extremely trifling degree of the sense of guilt. suggestions of reprehension, in even the discreetest terms, and from persons confessedly the best authorized to make them, would not seldom be answered by a grinning, defying carelessness, in some instances by abusive retort; instead of any betrayed signs of an internal acknowledgment of deserving reproof. and while thus the censure of a fellow-mortal meets no internal testimony to own its justice, this insensate self-complacency is undisturbed also on the side toward heaven. a mere philosopher, that should make little account of religion, otherwise than as capable of being applied to enforce and aggravate the sense of obligation with respect to rules of conduct, and would not, provided it may have this effect, care much about its truth or falsehood,--might be disposed to assert that the ignorant and debased part of the population, of this christian and protestant country, are but so much the worse for the riddance of some parts of the superstitions of former ages. he might allege, with plausibility, that the system which imposed so many falsehoods, vain observances, and perversions of moral principles, acknowledging nevertheless _some_ correct rules of morality, as an external practical concern, had the advantage of enjoining them, as far as it chose to do so, with the force of superstition, a stronger authority with a rude conscience than that of plain simple religion. that system exercised a mighty complexity and accumulation of authority, all avowedly divine; by which it could artificially augment, or rather supersede, the mere divine prescription of such rules, making _itself_ the authority and prescriber; and thus could infix them in the moral sense of the people with something more, or something else, than the simple divine sanction. whereas, now when those superstitions which held the people so powerfully in awe, are gone, and have taken away with them that spurious sanction, there remains nothing to exert the same power of moral enforcement; since the people have not, in their exemption from the superstitions of their ancestors, come under any solemn and commanding effect of the true idea of the divine majesty. and it is undeniable that this is the state of conscience among them. the vague, faint notion, as they conceive it, of a being who is said to be the creator, governor, lawgiver, and judge, and who dwells perhaps somewhere in the sky, has not, to many of them, the smallest force of intimidation from evil, at least when they are in health and daylight. one of the large sting-armed insects of the air does not alarm them less. a certain transitory fearfulness that occasionally comes upon them, points more to the devil, and perhaps (in times now nearly gone by) to the ghosts of the dead, than to the almighty. it may be, indeed, that this feeling is in its ultimate principle, if it were ever followed up so far, an acknowledgment of justice and power in god, reaching to wicked men through these mysterious agents; who though intending no service to him, but actuated by dispositions of their own, malignant in the greatest of them, and supposed inauspicious in the others, are yet carrying into effect his hostility. but it is little beyond such proximate objects of apprehension that many minds extend their awe of invisible spiritual existence. even the notion really entertained by them of the greatness of god, may be entertained in such a manner as to have but slight power to restrain the inclinations to sin, or to impress the sense of guilt after it is committed. he is too great, they readily say, to mind the little matters that such creatures as we may do amiss; they can do _him_ no harm. the idea, too, of his bounty, is of such unworthy consistency as to be a protection against all conscious reproach of ingratitude and neglect of service toward him;--he has made us to need all this that it is said he does for us; and it costs him nothing, it is no labor, and he is not the less rich; and besides, we have toil, and want, and plague enough, notwithstanding anything that he gives. it is probable this unhappiness of their condition, oftener than any other cause, brings god into their thoughts, and that as a being against whom they have a complaint approaching to a quarrel on account of it. and this strongly assists the reaction against whatever would enforce the sense of guilt on the conscience. when he has done so little for us, (something like this is the sentiment,) he cannot think it any such great matter if we _do_ sometimes come a little short of his commands. there is no doubt that their recollections of him as a being to murmur against for their allotment, are more frequent, more dwelt upon, and with more of an excited feeling, than their recollections of him as a being whom they ought to have loved and served, but have offended against. the very idea of such offence, as the chief and essential constituent of wickedness, is so slightly conceived, (because he is invisible, and has his own felicity, and is secure against all injury,) that if the thoughts of one of these persons _should_, by some rare occasion, be forced into the direction of unwillingly seeing his own faults, it is probable his impiety would appear the most inconsiderable thing in the account; that he would easily forgive himself the negation of all acts and feelings of devotion towards the supreme being, and the countless multiplications of insults to him by profane language. to conclude this part of the melancholy statement; it may be observed of the class in question, that they have but very little notion of guilt, or possible guilt, in anything but external practice. that busy interior existence, which is the moral person, genuine and complete; the thoughts, imaginations, volitions; the motives, projects, deliberations, devices, the indulgence of the ideas of what they cannot or dare not practically realize,--all this, we have reason to believe, passes nearly exempted from jurisdiction, even of that feeble and undecisive kind which _may_ occasionally attempt an interference with their actions. they do indeed take such notice of the quality of these things within, as to be aware that some of them are not to be disclosed in their communications; which prudential caution has of course little to do with conscience, when the things so withheld are internally cherished in perfect disregard of the omniscient observer, and with hardly the faintest monition that the essence of the guilt is the same, with only a difference in degree, in intending or deliberately desiring an evil, and in acting it. it is not natural obtuseness of mental faculty that we are attributing, all this while, to the uneducated class of our people, in thus exposing the defectiveness of their discernment between right and wrong. if it were, there might arise somewhat of the consolation afforded in contemplating some of the very lowest of the savage tribes of mankind, by the idea that such outcasts of the rational nature must stand very nearly exempt from accountableness, through absolute natural want of mind. but in the barbarians of our country we shall often observe a very competent, and now and then an abundant, share of native sense. we may see it evinced in respect to the very questions of morality, in cases where they are quite compelled, as will occasionally happen, to feel themselves brought within the cognizance of one or other of its plainest rules. in such cases we have witnessed a sharpness and activity of intellect claiming almost our admiration. what contrivance of deception and artful evasion. what dexterity of quibble, and captious objection, and petty sophistry. what vigilance to observe how the plea in justification or excuse takes effect, and, if they perceive it does not succeed, what address in sliding into a different one. what quickness to avail themselves of any mistake, or apparent concession, in the examiner or reprover. what copious rhetoric in exaggeration of the cause which tempted to do wrong, or of the great good hoped to be effected by the little deviation from the right,--a good surely enough to excuse so trifling an impropriety. what facility of placing between themselves and the censure, the recollected example of some good man who has been "overtaken in a fault." here _is_ mind, after all, we have been prompted to exclaim; mind educating itself to evil, in default of that discipline which should have educated it to good. how much of the wisdom of evil, (if we may be allowed the expression,) there is faculty enough in the neglected corrupt popular mass of this nation to attain, by the exercise into which the individual's mind is carried by its own impulse, and in which he may everywhere and every hour find ample co-operation. each of these self-improvers in depraved sense has the advantage of finding himself among a great tribe of similar improvers, forming an immense school, as if for the promotion of this very purpose; where they all teach by a competition in learning; where the rude faculty which is not expanded into intelligence is, however, sharpened into cunning; where the spirit which cannot grow into an eagle, may take the form and action of a snake. this advantage,--that there should not be a diminution of the superabundant plenty of associates always at hand, to assist each man in making the most of his native intellect for its least worthy use,--has been from age to age secured to our populace, as if it had been the most valuable birthright of englishmen. whatever else the person born to the inheritance of low life was destined to find in it, the national state had made as sure to him as it had before made the same privilege to his ancestors, that the generality of his equals should be found fit and ready to work with him in the acquirement of a depraved shrewdness. but while the bulk of the people have been, in every period, abandoned to such a process of educating themselves and one another, where has been that character of parental guardianship, which seems to be ascribed when poets, orators, and patriots, are inspired with tropes, and talk of england and her children? this imperial matron of their rhetoric seems to have little cared how much she might be disgraced in the larger portion of her progeny, or how little cause they might have to all eternity to remember her with gratitude. she has had far other concern about them, and employment for them, than that of their being taught the value of their spiritual nature, and carefully trained to be enlightened, good, and happy. laws against crime, it is true, she has enacted for them in liberal quantity; appointed her quorums of magistrates; and not been sparing of punishments. she has also maintained public sabbath observances to remind them of religion, of which observances she cared not that they little understood the very terms; except when the reading of a book of sports was appointed an indispensable part at one time long after her adoption of the reformation. but she might plainly see what such provisions did _not_ accomplish. it was a glaring fact before her eyes, that the majority of her children had far more of the mental character of a colony from some barbarian nation, than of that which an enlightened and christian state might have been expected to impart. she had most ample resources indeed for supplying the remedy; but, provided that the productions of the soil and the workshop were duly forthcoming, she thought it of no consequence, it should seem, that the operative hands belonged to degraded minds. and then, too, as at all times, her lofty ambition destined a good proportion of them to the consumption of martial service, she perhaps judged that the less they were trained to think, the more fit they might be to be actuated mechanically, as an instrument of blind impetuous force. or perhaps she thought it would be rather an inconsistency, to be making much of the inner existence of a thing which was to be, in frequent wholesale lots, sent off to be cut or dashed to pieces. [footnote: "killed off," was the sentimental phrase emitted in parliament, in easy unconsciousness of offence, by the accomplished senator named in a former page. he probably was really unaware that the creatures were made for anything better.] and besides, a certain measure of instruction to think, especially if consisting, in a considerable part, of the inculcation of religion, might have done something to disturb that notion, (so worthy to have been transferred from the mohammedan creed,) which she was by no means desirous to expel from her fleets and armies, that death for "king and country" clears off all accounts for sin. let our attention be directed a little while to the effects of the privation of knowledge, as they may be seen conspicuous in the several parts of the economy of life, in the uneducated part of the community. observe those people in their daily occupations. none of us need be told that, of the prodigious diversity of manual employments, some consist of, or include, operations of such minuteness or complexity, and so much demanding nicety, arrangement, or combination, as to necessitate the constant and almost entire attention of the mind; nor that all of them must require its full attention at times, at particular stages, changes, and adjustments, of the work. we allow this its full weight, to forbid any extravagant notion of how much it is possible to think of other things during the working time. it is however to be recollected, that persons of a class superior to the numerous one we have in view, take the chief share of those portions of the arts and manufactures which require the most of mental effort,--those which demand extreme precision, or inventive contrivance, or taste, or scientific skill. we may also take into the account of the allotment of employments to the uncultivated multitude, how much facility is acquired by habit, how much use there is of instrumental mechanism, (a grand exempter from the responsibility that would lie on the mind,) and how merely general and very slight an attention is exacted in the ordinary course of some of the occupations. these things considered, we may venture perhaps to assume, on an average of those employments, that the persons engaged in them might be, as much at least as one third part of the time, without detriment to the manual performance, giving the thoughts to other things with attention enough for such interest as would involve improvement. this is particularly true of the more ordinary parts of the labors of agriculture, when not under any critical circumstances, or special pressure owing to the season. but as the case at present is, what does become, during such portion of the time, of the ethereal essence which inhabits the corporeal laborer, this spirit created, it is commonly said and without contradiction, for thought, knowledge, religion, and immortality? if we be really to believe this doctrine of its nature and destiny, (for we are not sure that politicians think so,) can we know without regret, that in very many of the persons in the situations supposed, it suffers a dull absorption, subsides into the mere physical nature, is sunk and sleeping in the animal warmth and functions, and lulled and rocked, as it were, in its lethargy, by the bodily movements, in the works which it is not necessary for it to keep habitually awake to direct? and its obligation to keep just enough awake to see to the right performance of the work, seems to give a licensed exemption from any other stirring of its faculties. the employment _is something to be minded_, in a general way, though but now and then requiring a pointed attention; and therefore this said intellectual being, if uninformed and unexercised, will feel no call to mind anything else: as a person retained for some service which demands but occasionally an active exercise, will justify the indolence which declines taking in hand any other business in the intervals, under the pretext that he has his appointment; and so, when not under the immediate calls of that appointment, he will trifle or go to sleep, even in the full light of day, with an easy conscience. but here we are to beware of falling into the inadvertency of appearing to say, that the laboring classes, in this country and age, have actually this full exemption, during their employments, from all exercise of thought beyond that which is immediately requisite for the right performance of their work. it is true that there is little enough of any such mental activity directed to the instructive uses we were supposing. but while such partial occupation of the thoughts (of course it is admitted, in an irregular and discontinuous, but still a beneficial manner) with topics and facts of what may be called intellectual and moral interest as we are assuming to be compatible with divers of the manual operations, is a thing to which most among the laboring classes are strangers, many of them are equally strangers to an easy vacancy of mind; experiencing amidst their employments a severe arrest of those thoughts which the mere employment itself may leave free. during the little more than mechanical action of their hands and eyes, the circumstances of their condition press hard into their minds. the lot of many of those classes is placed in a melancholy disproportion between what _must_ be given to the cares and toils for a bare subsistence, and what _can_, at most, be given to the interests of the nobler part of their nature, either during their work or in its intervals. it is a sad spectacle to behold so many myriads of spiritual beings, (proviso, again, that we may call them so without being suspected to forget that their proper calling is to work with their hands,) doomed to consume a proportion so little short of the whole of their vigor and time, in just merely supporting so many bodies in the struggle to live. when it is in special relation to the present times that we speak of this struggle to live, we of course mean by it something more than that circumstance of the general lot of humanity which is expressed in the sentence, "in the sweat of thy brow thou shalt eat thy bread," we put the emphasis on the peculiar aggravation of that circumstance in this part of the world in this and recent times, by the adventitious effect of some dreadful disorder of the social economy, in consequence of which the utmost exertions of the body and mind together but barely suffice in so many cases, in some hardly do suffice, for the mere protraction of life; comfortable life being altogether out of the question. the course of the administration of the civilized states, and the recent dire combustion into which they have almost unanimously rushed, as in emulation which of them should with the least reserve, and with the most desperate rapidity, annihilate the resources that should have been for the subsistence and competence of their people, have resulted in such destitution and misery in this country as were never known before, except as immediately inflicted by the local visitation of some awful calamity. the state of very many of our people, at this hour, is nearly what might be conceived as the consequence of a failure of the accustomed produce of the earth. [footnote: no exaggeration at the time when it was written. the condition of the working classes during the subsequent years does not admit of any comprehensive uniform description. it has suffered successive harassing fluctuations, and been probably at all times severely distressing in one part of the country or another.] there is no wish to deny or underrate the additions made to the evil by the intervention of causes, whose operation admits of being traced in some measure distinctly from the effect of this grand one. they may be traced in an operation which is _distinguishable_; and referable to each respectively; but it were most absurd to represent them as working out of connection, or otherwise than subordinately concurring, with that cause which has invaded with its pernicious effects everything that has an existence or a name in the social system. and it were simply monstrous to attribute the main substance of so wide and oppressive an evil to causes of any debateable quality, while there is glaring in sight a cause of stupendous magnitude, which _could not possibly do otherwise than_ produce immense and calamitous effects. it would be as if a man were prying about for this and the other cause of damage, to account for the aspect of a region which has recently been devastated by inundations or earthquakes. it has become much a fashion to explain the distresses of a country on any principles rather than those that are taught by all history, and prominently manifest in the nature of things. and airs of superior intelligence shall be assumed on hearing a plain man fix the main charge of national exhaustion and distress on the nation's consuming its own strength in an unquenchable fury to destroy that of others; just as if such madness had never been known to result in poverty and distress, and it were perfectly inexplicable how it should. this is partly an affectation of science, accompanied, it is likely, by somewhat of that sincere extravagance with which some newly developed principle is apt to be accounted the comprehension of all wisdom, a nostrum that will explain everything. but we suspect that in many instances this substitution of subordinate causes for a great substantial one, proceeds from something much worse than such affectation or self-duped extravagance. it is from a resolute determination that ambition shall be the noblest virtue of a state; that martial glory shall maintain its ground in human idolatry and that wars and their promoters shall be justified at all hazards. we were wishing to show how the laboring people's thoughts might be partly employed, during their daily task, and consistently with industry and good workmanship. but what a state of things is exhibited where the very name of industry, the virtue universally honored, the topic of so many human and divine inculcations, cannot be spoken without offering a bitter insult; where the heavy toil, denounced on man for his transgression, in the same sentence as death, is in vain implored as the greatest privilege; or thought of in despair, as a blessing too great to be attainable; and when the reply of the artisan to an unwitting admonition, that even amidst his work he might have some freedom for useful thinking, may be, "thinking! i have no work to confine my thinking; i may, for that, employ it all on other subjects; but those subjects are, whether i please or not, the plenty and luxury in which many creatures of the same kind as myself are rioting, and the starvation which i and my family are suffering." we hope in providence, more than in any wisdom or disposition shown by men, that this melancholy state of things will be alleviated, otherwise than by a reduction of number through the diseases generated by utter penury. [footnote: it _has_ been alleviated; but not till after a considerable duration. in england it has; but look at ireland?] we trust the time will come when the christian monitor shall no longer be silenced by the apprehension of such a reply to the suggestion he wishes to make to the humble class, that they should strive against being reduced to mere machines amidst their manual employments; that it is miserable to have the whole mental existence shrunk and shrivelled as it were to the breadth of the material they are working upon; that the noble interior agent, which lends itself to maintain the external activity, and direct the operations required of the bodily powers for the body's welfare, has eminently a right and claim to have employments on its own account, during such parts of those operations as do not of necessity monopolize its attention. it may claim, in the superintendence of these, a privilege analogous to that possessed in the general direction of subordinate agents by a man of science, who will interfere as often as it is necessary, but will not give up all other thought and employment to be a constant mere looker-on, during such parts of the operations as are of so ordinary a nature that he could not really fix his attention on them. but how is the mind of the laborer or artisan to be delivered from the blank and stupified state, during the parts of his employment that do not necessarily engross his thoughts? how, but by its having within some store of subjects for thought; something for memory, imagination, reflection; in a word, by the possession of knowledge? how can it be sensibly alive and active, when it is placed fully and decidedly out of communication with all things that are friendly to intellectual life, all things that apply a beneficial stimulus to the faculties, all things, of this world or another, that are the most inviting or commanding to thought and emotion? we can imagine this ill-fated spirit, especially if by nature of the somewhat finer temperament, thus detached from all vital connection, secluded from the whole universe, and inclosed as by a prison wall,--we can imagine it sometimes moved with an indistinct longing for its appropriate interests; and going round and round by this dark, dead wall, to seek for any spot where there might be a chance of escape, or any crevice where a living element for the soul transpires; and then, as feeling it all in vain, dejectedly resigning itself again to its doom. some ignorant minds have instinctive impulses of this kind; though far more of them are so deeply stupified as to be habitually safe from any such inquietude. but let them have received, in their youth and progressively afterwards, a considerable measure of interesting information, respecting, for instance, the many striking objects on the globe they inhabit, the memorable events of past ages, the origin and uses of remarkable works within their view, remaining from ancient times; the causes of effects and phenomena familiar to their observation as now unintelligible facts; the prospects of man, from the relation he stands in to time, and eternity, and god, explained by the great principles and facts of religion. let there be fixed in their knowledge so many ideas of these kinds, as might be imparted by a comparatively humble education, (one quite compatible with the destination to a life of ordinary employment,) and even involuntarily the thoughts would often recur to these subjects, in those moments and hours when the manual occupation can, and actually will, be prosecuted with but little of exclusive attention. slight incidents, casual expressions, would sometimes suggest these subjects; by association they would suggest one another. the mere reaction of a somewhat cultivated spirit against invading dulness, might recall some of the more amusing and elating ones; and they would fall like a gleam of sunshine on the imagination. an emotion of conscience, a self-reflection, an occurring question of duty, a monitory sensation of defective health, would sometimes point to the serious and solemn ones. the mind might thus go a considerable way, to recreate or profit itself, and, on coming back again, find all safe in the processes of the field or the loom. the man would thus come from these processes with more than the bare earnings to set against the fatigue. there would thus be scattered some appearances to entertain, and some sources and productions to refresh, over what were else a dead and barren flat of existence. there is no romancing in all this; we have known instances of its verification to a very pleasing and exemplary extent. we have heard persons of the class in question tell of the exhilarating imaginations, or solemn reflections, which, through the reminiscences of what they had read in youth or more advanced years, had visited their minds; and put them, as it were, in communication for a while with diversified, remote, and elevated objects, while in their humble employments under the open sky or the domestic roof. and is not this, (if it be true, after all, that the intellectual, immortal nature is by emphasis the man,) is not this vastly better than that this mind should lie nearly as dormant, during the laborer's hours of business, as his attendant of the canine species shall be sometimes seen to do in the corner of the field where he is at work? but perhaps it will be said, that the minds of the uncultivated order are not generally in this state of utter inanity during their common employments; but are often awake and busy enough in recollections, fancies, projects, and the tempers appropriate; and that they abundantly show this when they stop sometimes in their work to talk, or talk as they are proceeding in it. so much the stronger, we answer, the argument for supplying them with useful knowledge; for it were better their mental being _were_ sunk in lethargy, than busy among the reported, recollected, or imagined transactions, the wishes, and the schemings, which will be the most likely to occupy the minds of persons abandoned to ignorance, vulgarity, and therefore probably to low vice. we may add to the representation, the manner in which they spend the part of their time not demanded for the regular, or the occasional, exercise of their industry. it is not to be denied that many of them have too much truth in their pleading that, with the exception of sunday, they have little remission of their toils till they are so weary that the remainder of the time is needed for complete repose. this is particularly the case of the females, especially those who have the chief cares and the actual work of a family. nevertheless, it is within our constant observation that a considerable proportion of the men, a large one of the younger men, in the less heavily oppressed divisions of our population, do in fact include, for substance, their manual employments within such limits of time, as often to leave several hours in the day to be spent nearly as they please. and in what manner, for the most part, is this precious time expended by those of no mental cultivation? it is true, again, that in many departments of labor, a diligent exertion during even this limited space of the day, occasions such a degree of lassitude and heaviness as to render it almost inevitable, especially in certain seasons of the year, to surrender some moments of the spare time, beyond what is necessary for the humble repast, to a kind of listless subsidence of all the powers of both body and mind. but after all these allowances fully conceded, a great number in the class under consideration have in some days several hours, and in the whole six days of the week, on an average of the year, very many hours, to be given, as they choose, to useful purposes or to waste; and again we ask, where the mind itself has been left waste how _is_ that time mostly expended? if the persons are of a phlegmatic temperament, we shall often see them just simply annihilating those portions of time. they will for an hour, or for hours together, if not disturbed by some cause from without, sit on a bench, or lie down on a bank or hillock, or lean on a wall, or fill the fire-side chair; yielded up to utter vacancy and torpor, not asleep perhaps, but more lost to mental existence than if they were; since the dreams, that would probably visit their slumbers, would be a more lively train of ideas than any they have awake. of a piece with this is the habit, among many of this order of people, of giving formally to sleep as much as one-third part, sometimes considerably more, of the twenty-four hours. certainly there are innumerable cases in which infirmity, care, fatigue, and the comfortlessness and penury of the humble dwelling, effectually plead for a large allowance of this balm of oblivion. but very many surrender themselves to this excess from destitution of anything to keep their minds awake, especially in the evenings of the winter. what a contrast is here suggested to the imagination of those who have read dr. henderson's, and other recent descriptions, of the habits of the people of iceland! these, however, are their most harmless modes of wasting the time. for, while we might think of the many hours merged by them in apathy and needless sleep, with a wish that those hours could be recovered to the account of their existence, we might well wish that the hours could be struck out of it which they may sometimes give, instead, to conversation; in parties where ignorance, coarse vulgarity, and profaneness, are to support the dialogue, on topics the most to their taste; always including, as the most welcome to that taste, the depravities and scandals of the neighborhood; while all the reproach and ridicule, expended with good-will on those depravities, have the strange result of making the censors the less disinclined themselves to practise them, and only a little better instructed how to do it with impunity. in many instances there is the additional mischief, that these assemblings for corrupt communication find their resort at the public-house, where intemperance and ribaldry may season each other, if the pecuniary means for the former ingredient can be afforded, even at the cost of distress at home.--but without including depravity of this degree, the worthlessness of the communications of a number of grossly ignorant associates is easy to be imagined; besides that most of us have been made judges of their quality by numberless occasions of unavoidably hearing samples of them. in the finer seasons of the year, much of these leisure spaces of time can be expended out of doors; and we have still only to refer to every one's own observation of the account to which they are turned, in the lives of beings whose lot allows but so contracted a portion of time to be, at the best, applied directly to the highest purposes of life.--here the hater of all such schemes of improvement, as would threaten to turn the lower order into what that hater may probably call methodists, (a term we venture to interpret for him as meaning thoughtful beings and christians,) comes in with a ready cant of humanity and commiseration. and why, he says, with an affected indignation of philanthropy, why should not the poor creatures enjoy a little fresh air and cheerful sunshine, and have a chance of keeping their health, confined as many of them are, for the greatest part of the time, in narrow, squalid rooms, unwholesome workshops, and every sort of disagreeable places and employments? very true, we answer; and why should not numbers of them be collected in groups by the road-side, in readiness to find in whatever passes there occasions for gross jocularity; practising some impertinence, or uttering some jeering scurrility, at the expense of persons going by; shouting with laughter at the success of the annoyance, or to _make_ it successful; and all this blended with language of profaneness and imprecation, as the very life of the hilarity? or why should not the boldest spirits among them form a little conventicle for cursing, blaspheming, and blackguard obstreperousness in the street, about the entrance of one of the haunts of intoxication; where they are perfectly safe from that worse mischief of a gloomy fanaticism, with which they might have been smitten if seduced to frequent the meeting-house twenty paces off? or why should not the children, growing into the stage called youth, be turned loose through the lanes, roads, and fields, to form a brawling, impudent rabble, trained by their association to every low vice, and ambitiously emulating, in voice, visage, and manners, the ruffians and drabs of maturer growth? or why should not the young men and women collect in clusters, or range about or beyond the neighborhood in bands, for revel, frolic, and all kinds of coarse mirth; to come back late at night to quarrel with their wretched elders, who perhaps envy them their capacity for such wild gaieties and strollings, while rating them for their disorderly habits? we say where can be the harm of all this? what reasonable and benevolent man would think of making any objection to it? reasonable and benevolent,--for these have been among the qualities boasted for the occasion by the opposers of any materially improved education of the people; while in such opposition they virtually avowed their willing tolerance of all that is here described. we have allowed most fully the plea of how little time, _comparatively_, could be afforded to the concern of mental improvement by the lower classes from their indispensable employments; and also that of the consequent fatigue, causing a temporary incapacity of effort in any other way. but this latter plea cannot be admitted without great abatement in the case of our neglected _young_ people of the working classes; for when we advert to their actual habits, we see that, nevertheless, time, strength, and wakefulness, and spring and spirit for exertion, _are_ found for a vast deal of busy diversion, much of it blended with such folly as tends to vice. if such is the manner in which the spare time of the week-days goes to waste and worse, the sunday is welcomed as giving scope for the same things on a larger scale. it is very striking to consider, that several millions, we may safely assert, of our english people, arrived at what should be years of discretion, are almost completely destitute of any manner of conscience respecting this seventh part of time; not merely as to any required consecration of it to religion, but as to its being under any claim or of any worth at all, otherwise than for amusement. it is actually regarded by them as a section of time far less under obligation than any other. they take it as so absolutely at their free disposal, by a right so exclusively vested in their taste and will, that a demand made even in behalf of their own most important interests, is contemptuously repelled as a sanctimonious impertinence. if the idea occurs at all (with multitudes it never does) of claims which they have heard that god should make on the hours, it is dismissed with the thought that it really cannot signify to him how creatures, condemned by his appointment to toil all the rest of the week, may wish to spend this one day, on which the secular taskmaster manumits them, and he, the spiritual one, might surely do as much. an immense number pay no attention whatever to any sort of religious worship; and many of those that do give an hour or two to such an observance, do so, some of them as merely a diversification of amusement, and the others by way of taking a license of exemption from any further accountableness for the manner in which they may spend the day. it is the natural consequence of all this, that there is more folly, if not more crime, committed on this than on all the other six days together. thus man, at least _ignorant_ man, is unfit to be trusted with anything under heaven; since a remarkable appointment for raising the general tenor of moral existence, has with these persons the effect of sinking it. there is interposed, at frequent regular intervals throughout the series of their days, a richer vein, as it were, of time. the improvement of this, in a manner by no means strained to the austerity of exercise prescribed in the puritan rules, might diffuse a worth and a grace over all the time between, and assist them against the tendency there may be in its necessary habits and employments, to depress the intelligent nature into meanness or debasement. the space which they are passing over is marked, at near intervals, with broad lines of a benignant light, which might spread an appearance of mild lustre over the whole extent as contemplated in retrospect; but how many, in looking back when near the end of their progress, have to perceive its general shade rendered darker by the very spaces where that light had been shed from heaven. the sundays of those who do not improve them to a good purpose, will infallibly be perverted to a bad one. but it were still a melancholy account if we could regard them as merely standing for nothing, as a blank in the life of this class of the people. it is a deeply unhappy spectacle and reflection, to see a man of perhaps more than seventy, sunk in the grossness and apathy of an almost total ignorance of all the most momentous subjects, and then to consider, that, since he came to an age of some natural capacity for the exercise of his mind, there have been more than three thousand sundays. in their long succession they were _his time_. that is to say, he had the property in them which every man has in duration; they were present to him, he had them, he spent them. perhaps some compassionate friend may have been pleading in his behalf,--alas! what opportunity, what time, has the poor mortal ever had? his lot has been to labor hard through the week throughout almost his whole life. yes, we answer, but he has had three thousand sundays; what would not even the most moderate improvement of so vast a sum of hours have done for him? but the ill-fated man, (perhaps rejoins the commiserating pleader,) grew up from his childhood in utter ignorance of any use he ought to make of time which his necessary employment would allow him to waste. there, we reply, you strike the mark. sundays are of no value, nor bibles, nor the enlarged knowledge of the age, nor heaven nor earth, to beings brought up in estrangement from all right discipline. and therefore we are pleading for the schemes and institutions which will not _let_ human beings be thus brought up. in so pleading, we happily can appeal to one fact in evidence that the intellectual and religious culture, in the introductory stages of life, tends to secure that the persons so trained shall be, when they are come to maturity, marked off from the neglected barbarous mass, by at least an external respect, but accompanied, we trust, in many of them, by a still better sentiment, to the means for keeping truth and duty constantly in their view. observe the numbers now attending, with a becoming deportment, public worship and instruction, as compared with what the proportion is remembered or recorded to have been half a century since, or any time previous to the great exertions of benevolence to save the children of the inferior classes from preserving the whole mental likeness of their forefathers. it can be testified also, by persons whose observation has been the longest in the habit of following children and youth from the instruction of the school institutions into mature life, that, in a gratifying number of instances, they have been seen permanently retaining too much love of improvement, and too much of the habit of a useful employment of their minds, to sink, in their ordinary daily occupations, into that wretched inanity we were representing; or to consume the free intervals of time in the listlessness, or worthless gabble, or vain sports, of which their neighbors furnished plenty of example and temptation. * * * * * these representations have partly included, what we may yet specify distinctly as one of the unhappy effects of gross ignorance--_a degraded state of domestic society_. whatever is of nature to render individuals uninteresting or offensive to one another, has a specially bad effect among them as members of a family; because there is in that form of community itself a peculiar tendency to fall below the level of dignified and complacent social life.--a number of persons cannot be placed in a state of social communication, without having a certain sense of claiming from one another a conduct meant and adapted to please. it is expected that a succession of efforts should be made for this purpose, with a willingness of each individual to forego, in little things, his own inclination or convenience. this is all very well when the society is _voluntary_, and the parties can separate when the cost is felt to be greater than the pleasure. under this advantage of being able soon to separate, even a company of strangers casually assembled will often recognize the claim and conform to the law; with a certain indistinct sentiment partaking of reciprocal gratitude for the disposition which is so accommodating. but the members of the domestic community also have each this same feeling which demands a mutual effort and self-denial to please, while the condition of their association is adverse to their _yielding_ what they thus respectively claim. theirs, when once it is formed, is not exactly a voluntary companionship, and it is one of undefinable continuance. the claim therefore seems as if it were to be of a prolongation interminable, while the grateful feeling for the concession is the less for the more compulsory bond of the association. and to be thus required, in a community which must not be dissolved, and in a series that reaches away beyond calculation, to exercise a self-restraint on their wills and humors in order to please one another, goes so hard against the great principle of human feeling--namely, each one's preference of pleasing himself--that there is an habitual impulse of reaction against the claim. this shows itself in their deportment, which has the appearance of a practical expression of so many individuals that they _will_ maintain each his own freedom. hence the absence, very commonly, in domestic society, of the attentiveness, the tone of civility, the promptitude of compliance, the habit of little accommodations, voluntary and supernumerary, which are so observable in the intercourse of friends, acquaintance, and often, as we have said, even of strangers. and then consider, in so close a kind of community, what near and intimate witnesses they are of all one another's faults, weaknesses, tempers, perversities; of whatever is offensive in manner, or unseemly in habit; of all the irksome, humiliating, or sometimes ludicrous circumstances and situations. and also, in this close association, the bad moods, the strifes, and resentments, are pressed into immediate, lasting, corrosive contact with whatever should be the most vital to social happiness. if there be, into the account, the wants, anxieties, and vexations of severe poverty, they will generally aggravate all that is destructive to domestic complacency and decorum. now add gross ignorance to all this, and see what the picture will be. how many families have been seen where the parents were only the older and stronger animals than their children, whom they could teach nothing but the methods and tasks of labor. they naturally could not be the mere companions, for alternate play and quarrel, of their children, and were disqualified by mental rudeness to be their respected guardians. there were about them these young and rising forms, containing the inextinguishable principle, which was capable of entering on an endless progression of wisdom, goodness, and happiness! needing numberless suggestions, explanations, admonitions, brief reasonings, and a training to attend to the lessons of written instruction. but nothing of all this from the parent. their case was as hopeless for receiving these necessaries of mental life, as the condition, for physical nutriment, of infants attempting to draw it, (we have heard of so affecting and mournful a fact,) from the breast of a dead parent. these unhappy heads of families possessed no resources for engaging youthful attention by mingled instruction and amusements; no descriptions of the most wonderful objects, or narratives of the most memorable events, to set, for superior attraction, against the idle stories of the neighborhood; no assemblage of admirable examples, from the sacred or other records of human character, to give a beautiful real form to virtue and religion, and promote an aversion to base companionship. requirement and prohibition must be a part of the domestic economy habitually in operation of course; and in such families you will have seen the government exercised, or attempted to be exercised, in the roughest, barest shape of will and menace, with no aptitude or means of imparting to injunction and censure, a convincing and persuasive quality. not that the seniors should allow their government to be placed on such a ground that, in everything they enforce or forbid, they may be liable to have their reasons demanded by the children, as an understood condition of their compliance. far from it; they will sometimes have to require a prescribed conduct for reasons not intelligible, or which it may not be discreet to explain, to those who are to obey. but their authority becomes odious, and as a moral force worse than inefficient, when the natural shrewdness of the children can descry that they really _have_ no reasons better than an obstinate or capricious will; and infallibly makes the inference, that there is no obligation to submit, but that necessity which dependence imposes. but this must often be the unfortunate condition of such families. now imagine a week, month, or year, of the intercourse in such a domestic society, the course of talk, the mutual manners, and the progress of mind and character; where there is a sense of drudgery approaching to that of slavery, in the unremitting necessity of labor; where there is none of the interest of imparting knowledge or receiving it, or of reciprocating knowledge that has been imparted and received; where there is not an acre, if we might express it so, of intellectual space around them, clear of the thick, universal fog of ignorance; where, especially, the luminaries of the spiritual heaven, the attributes of the almighty, the grand phenomenon of redeeming mediation, the solemn realities of a future state and another world, are totally obscured in that shade; where the conscience and the discriminations of duty are dull and indistinct, from the youngest to the oldest; where there is no genuine respect on the one side, nor affection unmixed with vulgar petulance and harshness, expressed perhaps in language of imprecation, on the other; where a mutual coarseness of manners and words has the effect, without their being aware of it as a cause, of debasing their worth in one another's esteem, all round; and where, notwithstanding all, they absolutely must pass a great deal of time together, to converse, to display their dispositions toward one another, and exemplify the poverty of the mere primary relations of life, as divested of the accessories which give them dignity, endearment, and conduciveness to the highest advantage of existence. home has but little to please the young members of such a family, and a great deal to make them eager to escape out of the house; which is also a welcome riddance to the elder persons, when it is not in neglect or refusal to perform allotted tasks. so little is the feeling of a peaceful cordiality created among them by their seeing one another all within the habitation, that, not unfrequently, the passer-by may learn the fact of their collective number being there, from the sound of a low strife of mingled voices, some of them betraying youth replying in anger or contempt to maturity or age. it is wretched to see how early this liberty is boldly taken. as the children perceive nothing in the _minds_ of their parents that should awe them into deference, the most important difference left between them is that of physical strength. the children, if of hardy disposition, to which they are perhaps trained in battles with their juvenile rivals, soon show a certain degree of daring against their superior strength. and as the difference lessens, and by the time it has nearly ceased, what is so natural as that they should assume equality, in manners and in following their own will? but equality assumed where there should be subordination, inevitably involves contempt toward the party in defiance of whom it is asserted. the relative condition of such parents as they sink in old age, is most deplorable. and all that has preceded, leads by a natural course to that consequence which we have sometimes beheld, with feelings emphatically gloomy,--the almost perfect indifference with which the descendants, and a few other relations, of a poor old man of this class, could consign him to the grave. a human being was gone out of the world, a being they had been with or near all their lives, some of them sustained in their childhood by his labors, and yet perhaps not one heart, at any moment, felt the sentiment--i have lost----. they never could regard him with respect, and their miserable education had not taught them humanity enough to regard him in his declining days as an object of pity. some decency of attention was perhaps shown him, or perhaps hardly that, in his last hours. his being now a dead, instead of a living man, was a burden taken off; and the insensibility and levity, somewhat disturbed and repressed at the sight of his expiring struggle, and of his being lowered into the grave, recovered by the day after his interment, if not on the very same evening, their accustomed tone, never more to be interrupted by the effect of any remembrance of him. such a closing scene one day to be repeated is foreshown to us, when we look at an ignorant and thoughtless father surrounded by his untaught children. in the silence of thought we thus accost him,--the event which will take you finally from among them, perhaps after forty or fifty years of intercourse with them, will leave no more impression on their affections, than the cutting down of a decayed old tree in the neighborhood of your habitation. there are instances, of rare occurrence, when such a man becomes, late in life, far too late for his family to have the benefit of the change, a subject of the only influence which could awake him to earnest thoughtfulness and the full sensibility of conscience. when the sun thus breaks out toward the close of his gloomy day, and when, in the energy of his new life, he puts forth the best efforts of his untaught spirit for a little divine knowledge, to be a lamp to him in entering ere long the shades of death, with what bitter regrets he looks back to the period when a number of human beings, some perhaps still with him, some now scattered from him, and here and there pursuing their separate courses in careless ignorance, were growing up under his roof, within his charge, but in utter estrangement from all discipline adapted to ensure a happier sequel. his distressing reflection is often representing to him what they might now have been if they had grown up under such discipline. and gladly would he lay down his life to redeem for them but some inferior share of what the season for imparting to them is gone forever. another thing is to be added, to this representation of the evils attendant on an uncultivated state of the people, namely--that _this mental rudeness puts them decidedly out of beneficial communication with the superior and cultivated classes_. we are assuming (with permission) that a national community should be constituted for the good of all its parts, not to be obtained by them as detached, independent portions, but adjusted and compacted into one social body; an economy in which all the parts shall feel they have the benefit of an amicable combination; in other words, that they are the better for one another. but it can be no such constitution when the most palpable relations between the two main divisions of society consist of such direct opposites as refinement and barbarism, dignity and gross debasement, intelligence and ignorance; which are the distinctions asserted by the higher classes as putting a vast distance between them and the lower. if so little of the correct understanding, the information, the liberalized feeling, and the propriety of deportment, which we are to ascribe to the higher and cultivated portion, goes downward into the lower, it should seem impossible but there must be more of repulsion than of amicable disposition and communication between them. we may suspect, perhaps, that those more privileged classes are not generally desirous that the interval were much less wide, provided that without cultivation of the lower orders the nuisance of their annoying and formidable temper could be abated. but however that may be, it is exceedingly desirable, for the good of both, that the upper and inferior orders _should_ be on terms of communication and mutual good-will, and therefore that there should be a diminution of that rudeness of mind and habits which must contribute to keep them alienated and hostile. if it were asked what communication, at all of a nature to be described by epithets of social and friendly import, we can be supposing by possibility to subsist between classes so different and distant, we may exemplify it by such an instance as we have now and then the pleasure of seeing. each reader also, of any moderate compass of observation, may probably recollect an example, in the case of some man in humble station, but who has had (for his condition) a good education; having been well instructed in his youth in the elements of useful knowledge; having had good principles diligently inculcated upon him; having subsequently instructed himself, to the best of his very confined means and opportunity, through a habit of reading; and being in his manners unaffectedly observant of all the decorums of a respectable human being. it has been seen, that such a man has not found in some of his superiors in station and attainment any disposition to shun him; and has not felt in himself or his situation any reason why he should seek to shun them. he would occasionally fall into conversation with the wealthy and accomplished proprietor, or the professional man of learning, in the neighborhood. his intelligent manner of attending to what they said, his perfect understanding of the language naturally used by cultivated persons, the considerateness and pertinence of his replies, and the modest deference, combined with an honest freedom in making his observations on the matters brought in question, pleased those persons of superior rank, and induced various friendly and useful attentions, on their part to him and his family. he and his family thus experienced a direct benefit of superior sense, civility, and good principle, in a humble condition; and were put under a new responsibility to preserve a character for those distinctions.--now think of the incalculable advantage to society, if anything approaching to this were the general state of social relation between the lower and the higher orders. on the contrary, there is no medium of complacent communication between the classes of higher condition and endowment, and an ignorant, coarse populace. except on occasion of giving orders or magisterial rebukes, the gentleman will never think of such a thing as converse with the clowns in his vicinity. they, on their part, are desirous to avoid him; excepting when any of them may have a purpose to gain, by arresting his attention, with an ungainly cringe; or when some of those who have no sort of present dependence on him, are disposed to cross his way with a look and strut of rudeness, to show how little they care for him. the servility, and the impudence, almost equally repress in him all friendly disposition toward a voluntary intercourse with the class. there is thus as complete a dissociation between the two orders, as mutual dislike, added to every imaginable dissimilarity, can create. and this broad ungracious separation intercepts all modifying influence that might otherwise have passed, from the intelligence and refinement of the one, upon the barbarism of the other. but there is in human nature a pertinacious disposition to work disadvantages, in one way or other, into privileges. the people, in being thus consigned to a low and alien ground, in relation to the cultivated part of society, are put in possession, as it were, of a territory of their own; where they can give their disposition freer play, and act out their characters in their own manner; exempt equally from the voluntary and the involuntary influence of the cultivated superiors; that is to say, neither insensibly modified by the attraction of what is the most laudable in them as a pattern, nor swayed through policy to a studied accommodation to their understood opinion and will. this is a great emancipation enjoyed by the inferiors. and however injurious it may be, it is one of which they will not fail to take the full license. for in all things and situations, it is one of the first objects with human beings, to verify experimentally the presumed extent of their liberty and privilege. in this dissociation, the people are rid of the many salutary restraints and incitements which they would have been made to feel, if on terms of friendly recognition with the respectable part of the community; they have neither honor nor disgrace, from that quarter, to take into their account; and this contributes to extinguish all sense and care of respectability of character,--a care to which there will be no motive in any consideration of what they may, as among themselves, think of one another; for, with the low estimate which they mutually and justly entertain, there is a conventional feeling among them that, for the ease and privilege of them all, they are systematically to set aside all high notions and nice responsibilities of character and conduct. there is a sort of recognized mutual _right_ to be no better than they are. and an individual among them affecting a high conscientious principle would be apt to incur ridicule, as a man foolishly divesting himself of a privilege;--unless, indeed, he let them understand that hypocrisy was his way of maintaining that privilege, and turning it to account. the people are thus, by their ignorance, and what inseparably attends it, far removed and estranged from the more cultivated part of their fellow-countrymen; and consequently from every beneficial influence under which a state of friendly contiguity, if we may so express it, would have placed them. let us now see what, in this abandonment to themselves, are their growing dispositions toward the superior orders and the existing arrangements of the community; dispositions which are promoted by causes more definite than this estrangement considered merely as the negation of benevolent intercourse, but to which it mightily contributes. times may have been when the great mass, while placed in such decided separation from the upper orders, combined such a quietude with their ignorance, that they had little other than submissive feelings toward these superiors, whose property, almost, for all service and obsequiousness, they were accustomed to consider themselves; when no question would occur to them why there should be so vast a difference of condition between beings of the same race; when no other proof was required of the right appointment of their lot, however humble it might be, than their being, and their forefathers having been, actually in it; and when they did not presume, hardly in thought, to make any inferences from the fact of the immense disproportion of numbers and consequent physical strength between them and their superiors. [footnote: here, however, it should be observed that in the former age, when there was far less of jealous invidious feeling between the upper and lower classes than has latterly intervened, there was a more amicable manner of intercommunication. the settled and perfectly recognized state of subordination precluded on the one side, all apprehension of encroachment, and on the other the disposition to it.] but the times of this perfect, unquestioning, unmurmuring succumbency under the actual allotment have passed away; except in such regions as the russian empire, where they have yet long to continue. in other states of europe, but especially in our own, the ignorance of the people has nowhere prevented them from acquiring a sense of their strength and importance; with a certain ill-conceived, but stimulant notion, of some change which they think ought to take place in their condition. how, indeed, should it have been possible for them to remain unaware of this strength and importance, while the whole civilized world was shaken with a practical and tremendous controversy between the two grand opposed orders of society, concerning their respective rights; or that they should not have taken a strong, and from the rudeness of their mental condition, a fierce interest, in the principle and progress of the strife? and how should they have failed to know that, during this controversy, innumerable persons raised from the lower rank by talent and spirit, had left no place on earth except in courts (and hardly even there) for the dotage of fancying some innate difference between the classes distinguished in the artificial order of society? the effect of all this is gone deep into the minds of great numbers who are not excited, in consequence, to any worthy exertion for raising themselves, individually, from their degraded condition, by the earnest application and improvement of their means and faculties. the feeling of many of them seems to be, that they must and will sullenly abide by the ill-starred fate of their order, till some great comprehensive alteration in their favor shall absolve them from that bond of hostile sentiment, in which they make common cause against the superior classes; and shall create a state of things in which it shall be worth while for the individual to make an effort to raise himself. we can at best, (they seem to say,) barely maintain, with the utmost difficulty, a miserable life; and you talk to us of cultivation, of discipline, of moral respectability, of efforts to come out from our degraded rank! no, we shall even stay where we are; till it is seen how the question is to be settled between the people of our sort, and those who will have it that they are of a far worthier kind. there may then, perhaps, be some chance for such as we; and if not, the less we are disturbed about improvement, knowledge, and all those things, the better, while we are bearing the heavy load a few years, to die like those before us. we said they are banded in a hostile sentiment. it is true, that among such a degraded populace there is very little kindness, or care for one another's interests. they all know too well what they all are not, to feel mutual esteem or benevolence. but it is infinitely easier for any set of human beings to maintain a community of feeling in hostility to something else, than in benevolence toward another; for here no sacrifice is required of anyone's self-interest. and it is certain, that the subordinate portions of society have come to regard the occupants of the tracts of fertility and sunshine, the possessors of opulence, splendor, and luxury, with a deep, settled, systematic aversion; with a disposition to contemplate in any other light than that of a calamity an extensive downfall of the favorites of fortune, when a brooding imagination figures such a thing as possible; and with but very slight monitions from conscience of the iniquity of the most tumultuary accomplishment of such a catastrophe. in a word, so far from considering their own welfare as identified with the stability of the existing social order, they consider it as something that would spring from the ruin of that order. the greater number of them have lost that veneration by habit, partaking of the nature of a superstition, which had been protracted downward, though progressively attenuated with the lapse of time, from the feudal ages into the last century. they have quite lost, too, in this disastrous age, that sense of competence and possible well-being, which might have harmonized their feelings with a social economy that would have allowed them the enjoyment of such a state, even as the purchase of great industry and care. whatever the actual economy may have of wisdom in its institutions, and of splendor, and fulness of all good things, in some parts of its apportionment, they feel that what is allotted to most of _them_ in its arrangements is pressing hardship, unremitting poverty, growing still more hopeless with the progress of time, and of what they hear trumpeted as national glory, nay, even "national prosperity and happiness unrivalled." this bitter experience, which inevitably becomes associated in their thoughts with that frame of society under which they suffer it, will naturally have a far stronger effect on their opinion of that system than all that had ever rendered them acquiescent or reverential toward it. that it brings no relief, or promise of relief, is a circumstance preponderating in the estimate, against all that can be said of its ancient establishment, its theoretical excellences, or the blessings in which it may be pretended to have once abounded, or still to abound. what were become of the most essential laws of human feeling, if such experience _could_ leave those who are undergoing its discipline still faithfully attached to the social order on the strength of its consecration by time, and of the former settled opinions in its favor,--however tenacious the impressions so wrought into habit are admitted to be? and the minds of the people thus thrown loose from their former ties, are not arrested and recovered by any substitutional ones formed while those were decaying. they are not retained in a temper of patient endurance and adherence, by the bond of principles which a sedulous and deep instruction alone could have enforced on them. the growth of sound judgment under such instruction, might have made them capable of understanding how a proportion of the evil may have been inevitable, from uncontrollable causes; of perceiving that it could not fail to be aggravated by a disregard of prudence in the proceedings in early life among their own class, and that so far it were unjust to impute it to their superiors or to the order of society; of admitting that national calamities are visitations of divine judgment, of which they were to reflect whether they had not deserved a heavy share; of feeling it to be therefore no impertinent or fanatical admonition that should exhort them to repentance and reformation, as an expedient for the amendment of even their temporal condition; and of clearly comprehending that, at all events, rancor, violence, and disorder, cannot be the way to alleviate any of the evils, but to aggravate them all. but, we repeat it, there are millions in this land, and if we include the neighboring island politically united to it, very many millions, who have received no instruction adequate, in the smallest degree, to counteract the natural effect of the distresses of their condition; or to create a class of moral restraints and mitigations in prevention of a total hostility of feeling against the established order, after the ancient attachments to it have been worn down by the innovations of opinion, and the pressure of continued distress. thus uninstructed to apprehend the considerations adapted to impose a moral restraint, thus unmodified by principles of mitigation, there is a large proportion of human strength and feeling not in vital combination with the social system, but aloof from it, looking at it with "gloomy and malign regard;" in a state progressive towards a fitness to be impelled against it with a dreadful shock, in the event of any great convulsion, that should set loose the legion of daring, desperate, and powerful spirits, to fire and lead the masses to its demolition. there have not been wanting examples to show with what fearful effect this hostility may come into action, in the crisis of the fate of a nation's ancient system; where this alienated portion of its own people, rushing in, have revenged upon it the neglect of their tuition; that neglect which had abandoned them to so utter a "lack of knowledge," that they really understood no better than to expect their own solid advantage in general havoc and disorder. but how bereft of sense the _state_ too must be, that would thus _let_ a multitude of its people grow up in a condition of mind to believe, that the sovereign expedient for their welfare is to be found in spoliation and destruction! it might easily have comprehended what it was reasonable to expect from the matured dispositions and strength of such of its children as it abandoned to be nursed by the wolf. while this principle of ruin was working on by a steady and natural process, this supposed infatuated state was, it is extremely possible, directing its chief care to maintain the splendor of a court, or to extort the means for prosecuting some object of vain and wicked ambition, some project of conquest and military glory. and probably nothing could have appeared to many of its privileged persons more idle and ridiculous, or to others of them more offensive and ill-intentioned, than a remonstrance founded on a warning of such a consequence. the despisers would have been incomparably the greater number; and, "go (they would have said) with your mock-tragical fortune-telling, to whoever can believe, too, that one day or other the quadrupeds of our stalls and meadows may be suddenly inspirited by some supernatural possession to turn their strength on us in a mass, or those of our kennels to imitate the dogs of actæon." section iv. there may be persons ready to make a question here, whether it be so certain that giving the people of the lower order more knowledge, and sharpening their faculties, will really tend to the preservation of good order. would not such improvement elate them, to a most extravagant estimate of their own worth and importance; and therefore result in insufferable arrogance, both in the individuals and the class? would they not, on the strength of it, be continually assuming to sit in judgment on the proceedings and claims of their betters, even in the most lofty stations; and demanding their own pretended rights, with a troublesome and turbulent pertinacity? would they not, since their improvement cannot, from their condition in life, be large and deep, be in just such a half taught state, as would make them exactly fit to be wrought upon by all sorts of crafty schemers, fierce declaimers, empirics, and innovators? is it not, in short, too probable that, since an increase of mental power is available to bad uses as well as good, the results would greatly preponderate on the side of evil? it would be curious to observe how objections so plausible, so decisive in the esteem of those who admire them, would sound if expressed in other terms. let them be put in the form of such sentences and propositions as the following:--though understanding is to be men's guide to right conduct, the less of it they possess the more safe are we against their going wrong. the duty of a human being has many branches; there are connected with all of them various general and special considerations, to induce and regulate the performance; it must be well for these to be defined with all possible clearness; and it is also well for the great majority of men to be utterly incapable of apprehending them with any such definiteness. it is desirable that the rule, or set of rules, by which the demeanor of the lower orders toward those above them is to be directed, should appear to them _reasonable_ as well as distinctly defined; but let us take the greatest care that their reason shall be in no state of fitness to perceive this rectitude of the rules. it would be a noble thing to have a competent understanding of all that belongs to human interest and duty; and therefore the next best thing is to be retained very nearly in ignorance of all. it would be a vast advantage to proceed a hundred degrees on the scale of knowledge; but the advantage is nowhere in the progress; each of the degrees is in itself worth nothing; nay, less than nothing; for unless a man could attain all, he had better stop at two or one, than advance to four, six, or ten. truths support one another; by the conjunction of several each is kept the clearer in the understanding, the more efficient for its proper use, and the more adequate to resist the pressure of the surrounding ignorance and delusion; therefore let there be the greatest caution that we do not give to three truths in a man's understanding the aid of a fourth, or four the aid of a fifth; let the garrison be so diminutive that its successful resistance to the siege must be a miracle.----the reader will be in little danger of excess in shaping into as many forms of absurdity as he pleases a notion which goes to the depreciation of the desire and use of truth, of all that has been venerated as wisdom, of the divine revelation of knowledge, and of our rational nature itself. if it _be_ a rational nature that the lower ranks possess as well as the superior, one should have imagined it must be in the highest degree important that they, as well as their superiors, should habitually make their duty and conduct _a matter of thought_, of intelligent consideration, instead of going through it mechanically, or with little more than a brute accommodation of what they do to a customary and imposed manner of doing it; but this thoughtful way of acting will never prevail among them, while they are unexercised in that thinking which (generally speaking) men will never acquire but in the exercise of gaining knowledge. it were, again, better, one would think, that they should be capable of seeing some reason and use in gradations and unequal distributions in the community, than be left to regard it as all a matter of capricious or iniquitous fortune, to their allotment under which there is no reason for submission but a bare necessity. the improvement of understanding by which we are wishing to raise them in this humble allotment, without carrying them from the ground where it is placed, will explain to them the best compensations of their condition, will show them it is no essential degradation, and point them to the true respectability which may be obtained in it. and even if they _should_ be a little too much elated with the supposed attainments, (while the flattering possession is yet new, and far from general in their class,) what taste would it be in their superiors not to deem this itself a far better thing than the contented, or more probably insolent and malignant, grossness of a stupid vulgarity?--as some little excess of self-complacency in appearing in a handsome dress is accounted much less disgusting than a careless self-exposure in filth and rags. as to their being rendered liable by more knowledge to be caught by declaimers, projectors, and agitators, we may confidently ask, whether it be the natural effect of more knowledge and understanding to be less suspicious of cajoling professions, less discerning of what is practicable and impracticable, and more credulous to extravagant doctrines, and wild theories and schemes. is it the well-instructed and intelligent poor man that believes the demagogue who may assert or insinuate that, if things were ordered right, all men might live in the greatest plenty? or if we advert to those of the lower order whom a diminutive freehold or other qualification may entitle to vote for a member of parliament, is it the well-instructed and intelligent man among them that is duped by the candidate's professions of kind solicitude for him and his family, accompanied with smiling equivocal hints that it may be of more advantage than he is aware for a man who has sons to provide for, to have a friend who has access and interest in a certain high quarter? nor is it among the best instructed and most thinking part of the subordinate class, that we shall find persons capable of believing that a community might, if those who govern it so pleased, be rich and prosperous by other means than a general industry in ordinary employments. if, again, it is apprehended that a great increase of intelligence among the people would destroy their deference and respectful deportment toward their superiors, the ground of this apprehension should be honestly assigned. if the claim to this respect be definable, and capable of being enforced upon good reasons, it is obvious that improved sense in the people will better appreciate them. especially, if the claim is to owe any part of its validity to higher mental qualifications in the claimants, it will so far be incomparably better understood, and if it _be_ valid, far more respected than it is now. by having a measure of knowledge, and of the power and practice of thinking, the people would be enabled to form some notion of what it must be, and what it is worth, to have a great deal more of these endowments. they would observe and understand the indications of this ampler possession in the minds of those above them, and so would be aware of the great disparity between themselves and those superiors. and since they would value _themselves_ on their comparatively small share of these mental advantages, (for this is the very point of the objection against their attaining them,) they would be compelled to estimate by the same scale the persons dignified by so far surpassing a share of this admired wealth. whereas an ignorant populace can understand nothing at all about the matter; they have no guess at the great disparity, nor impression of its importance; so that with them the cultivated superiors quite lose the weight of this grand difference, and can obtain none of the respect which they may deserve on account of it. the objection against enlightening the lower classes appears so remarkably absurd as viewed in this direction, that it might tempt us to suspect a motive not avowed. it is just the sort of caveat to be uttered by persons aware that themselves, or many of their class, might happen to betray to the sharpened inspection of a more intelligent people, that a higher ground in the allotments of fortune is no certain pledge for a superior rank of mind. it _were_ strange, very strange indeed, if persons combining with superior station a great mental superiority, should be content, while claiming the deference of the subordinate part of the community around them, that this high distinction should go for nothing in that claim, and that the required respect should be paid only in reverence of the number of their acres, the size of their houses, the elegance of their equipage and domestic arrangements, and perhaps some official capacity, in which many a notorious blockhead has strutted and blustered. we think such considerations as the above, opposed to the objection that any very material cultivation of the minds of the common people would destroy their industry in ordinary employments, their contentment with their station, and their respectful demeanor to their superiors; and would render them arrogant, disorderly, factious, liable to be caught by wild notions, misled by declaimers and impostors, and, in short, all the worse for being able to understand their duty and interest the better, ought to go far toward convicting that objection of great folly,--not to apply terms of stronger imputation. but we need not have dwelt so long on such arguments, since fortunately there is matter of fact in answer to the objection. to the extent of the yet very limited experiment, it is proved that giving the people more knowledge and more sense does not tend to disorder and insubordination; does not excite them to impatience and extravagant claims; does not spoil them for the ordinary business of life, the tasks of duty and necessity; does not make them the dupes of knaves; nor teach them the most profitable use of their improved faculties is to turn knaves themselves. employers can testify, from all sides, that there is a striking general difference between those bred up in ignorance and rude vulgarity, and those who have been trained through the well-ordered schools for the humble classes, especially when the habits at home have been subsidiary; a difference exceedingly in favor of the latter, who are found not only more apt at understanding and executing, but more decorous, more respectful, more attentive to orders, more ready to see and acknowledge the propriety of good regulations, and more disposed to a practical acquiescence in them; far less inclined to ebriety and low company; and more to be depended on in point of honesty. in almost any part of the country, where the experiment has been zealously prosecuted for a moderate number of years, a long resident observer can discern a modification in the character of the neighborhood; a mitigation of the former brutality of manners, a less frequency of brawls and quarrels, and less tendency to draw together into rude riotous assemblages. there is especially a marked difference on the sabbath, on which great numbers attend public worship, whose forefathers used on that day to congregate for boisterous sport on the common, or even within the inclosure vainly consecrated round the church; [footnote: we know a church where, within, the remembrance of an immediate ancestor, it was not unusual, or thought anything amiss, for the foot-ball to be struck up within the "consecrated ground" at the close of the afternoon service of the sunday.] and who would themselves in all probability have followed the same course, but for the tuition which has led them into a better. in not a few instances, the children have carried from the schools inestimable benefits home to their unhappy families; winning even their depraved, thoughtless parents into consideration and concern about their most important interests,--a precious repayment of all the long toils and cares, endured to support them through the period of childhood, and an example of that rare class of phenomena, in which (as in the instance of the grecian daughter) a superlative beauty arises from an inversion of the order of nature. even the frightful statements of the increase, in recent years, of active juvenile depravity, especially in the metropolis, include a gratifying testimony in favor of education--at least did so some years since. the result of special inquiries, of extensive compass, into the wretched history of juvenile reprobates, has fortified the promoters of schools with evidence that it was not from _these_ seminaries that such noxious creatures were to go out, to exemplify that the improvement of intelligence may be but the greater aptitude for fraud and mischief. no, it was found to have been in very different places of resort, that these wretches had been, almost from their infancy, accomplished for crime; and that their training had not taken or needed any assistance from an exercise on literary rudiments, from bibles, catechisms, or religious and moral poetry, or from an attendance on public worship. indeed, as if providence had designed that the substantial utility should be accompanied with a special circumstance to confound the cavillers, the children and youth of the schools were found to have been more generally preserved from falling into the class of premature delinquents, than a moral calculator, keeping in sight the quality of human nature and the immediate pressure of so much temptation, would have ventured to anticipate, upon the moderate estimate of the efficacy of instruction. experience equally falsifies the notion that knowledge, imparted to the lower orders, beyond what is necessary to the handling of their tools, tends to factious turbulence; to an impatience (from the instigation of certain wild theories,) under law and regular government in society. the maintainers of which notion should also affirm, that the people of scotland have been to this day about the most disaffected, tumultuary, revolutionary rabble in europe; and that the cornish miners, now so worthily distinguished at once by exercised intellect and religion, are incessantly on the point of insurrection, against their employers or the state. and we shall be just as ready to believe them, if they also assert, that, in those popular irregularities which have too often disturbed, in particular places, the peace of our country, the clamorous bands or crowds, collected for purposes of intimidation or demolition, have consisted chiefly of the better instructed part of the poorer inhabitants;--yes, or that this class furnished one in twenty or fifty of the numbers forming such lawless bands; even though many of these more instructed of the people might be suffering, with their families, the extremity of want, the craving of hunger, which, no less than "oppression," may "make a wise man mad." many of these, in their desolate abodes, with tears of parents and children mingled together, have been committing themselves to their father in heaven, at the time that the ruder part of the population have been carrying alarm, and sometimes mischief, through the district, and so confirming the faith, we may suppose, of sundry magnates of the neighborhood, who had vehemently asserted, a few years before, the pernicious tendency of educating the people. [footnote: what proportion were found to have been educated, in the very lowest sense of the term, of the burners of ricks and barns in the south-eastern counties, a few years since? what proportion of the ferocious, fanatical, and sanguinary rout who, the other day, near the centre of the metropolitan see of canterbury, were brought into action by the madman thom, _alias_ sir w. courtenay; stout, well-fed, proud englishmen--englishmen "the glory of all lands," who were capable of believing that madman a divine personage, christ himself, invulnerable, till the fact happened otherwise, and then were confident he would come to life again? when will the government adopt some effectual means to avert from the nation the infamy of having such a populace in any part of the country, and especially _such_ a part of it?] it would be less than what is due to suffering humanity, to leave this topic without observing, that if a numerous division of the community should be sinking under severe, protracted, unmitigated distress, distress on which there appears to them no dawn of hope from ordinary causes, it is not to be held a disparagement to the value of education, if some of those who have enjoyed a measure of that advantage, in common with a greater number who have not, should become feverishly agitated with imaginations of great sudden changes in the social system; and be led to entertain suggestions of irregular violent expedients for the removal of insupportable evils. it must, in all reason, be acknowledged the last lesson which education could be expected to teach with practical effect, that one part of the community should be willing to resign themselves to a premature mortality, that the others may live in sufficiency and tranquillity. such heroic devotement might not be difficult in the sublime elation of thermopylae; but it is a very different matter in a melancholy cottage, and in the midst of famishing children. [footnote: this was almost the desperate condition of numberless families in this country at a period of which they, or the survivors of them, retain in memory an indelible record; and we think it right to retain _here_ also that record. while thankful for all subsequent amendment, we say again, look at ireland.] after thus referring to matter of fact, for contradiction of the notion, that the mental cultivation of the lower classes might render them less subject to the rules of good order, we have to say, in further reply, that we are not heard insisting on the advantages of increased knowledge and mental invigoration among the people, _unconnected with the inculcation of religion._ undoubtedly, the zealous friends of popular education account knowledge valuable absolutely, as being the apprehension of things as they are; a prevention of delusion; and so far a fitness for right volitions. but they consider religion, (besides being itself the primary and infinitely the most important part of knowledge,) as a principle indispensable for securing the full benefit of all the rest. it is desired, and endeavored, that the understandings of these opening minds may be taken possession of by just and solemn ideas of their relation to the eternal almighty being; that they may be taught to apprehend it as an awful reality, that they are perpetually under his inspection; and as a certainty, that they must at length appear before him in judgment, and find, in another life, the consequences of what they are in spirit and conduct here. it is to be impressed on them, that his will is the supreme law; that his declarations are the most momentous truth known on earth; and his favor and condemnation the greatest good and evil. under an ascendency of this divine wisdom it is, that their discipline in any other knowledge is designed to be conducted; so that nothing in the mode of their instruction may have a tendency contrary to it, and everything be taught in a manner recognizing the relation with it, as far as shall consist with a natural, unforced way of keeping this relation in view. thus it is sought to be secured that, as the pupil's mind grows stronger and multiplies its resources, and he therefore has necessarily more power and means for what is wrong, there may be luminously presented to him, as if celestial eyes visibly beamed upon him, the most solemn ideas that can enforce what is right. * * * * * such is the discipline meditated, for preparing the subordinate classes to pursue their individual welfare, and act their part as members of the community.--they are to be trained in early life to diligent employment of their faculties, tending to strengthen them, regulate them, and give their possessors the power of effectually using them. they are to be exercised to form clear, correct notions, instead of crude, vague, delusive ones. the subjects of these ideas will be, a very considerable number of the most important facts and principles; which are to be presented to their understandings with a patient repetition of efforts to fix them there as knowledge that cannot be forgotten. by this measure of actual acquirement, and by the habit formed in so acquiring, they will be qualified for making further attainment in future time, if disposed to improve their opportunities. during this progress, and in connection with many of its exercises, their duty is to be inculcated on them in the various forms in which they will have to make a choice between right and wrong, in their conduct toward society. there will be reiteration of lessons on justice, prudence, inoffensiveness, love of peace, estrangement from the counsels and leagues of vain and bad men; hatred of disorder and violence, a sense of the necessity of authoritative public institutions to prevent these evils, and respect for them while honestly administered to this end. all this is to be taught, in many instances directly, in others by reference for confirmation, from the holy scriptures, from which authority will also be impressed, all the while, the principles of religion. and religion, while its grand concern is with the state of the soul towards god and eternal interests, yet takes every principle and rule of morals under its peremptory sanction; making the primary obligation and responsibility be towards god, of everything that is a duty with respect to men. so that, with the subjects of this education, the sense of _propriety_ shall be _conscience_; the consideration of how they ought to be regulated in their conduct as a part of the community, shall be the recollection that their master in heaven dictates the laws of that conduct, and will judicially hold them amenable for every part of it. and is not a discipline thus addressed to the purpose of fixing religious principles in ascendency, as far as that difficult object is within the power of discipline, and of infusing a salutary tincture of them into whatever else is taught, the right way to bring up citizens faithful to all that deserves fidelity in the social compact? but perhaps far less of sacred knowledge than all this pleading admits and assumes to be indispensable to them, will answer the end. for it is but a slender quantity of it that is, in effect, proposed to be imparted to them by those who would give them very little other knowledge. they will talk of giving the people an education specifically religious; a training to conduct them on through a close avenue, looking straight before them to descry distant spiritual objects, while shut out from all the scene right and left, by fences that tell them there is nothing that concerns them there. there may be rich and beautiful fields of knowledge, but they are not to be trampled by vulgar feet. now, may we presume that by knowledge, or information, is meant a clear understanding of a subject? if so, it is but little religious information that _can_ be imparted while that of a more general nature is withheld. the case is so, partly because, in order to a clear conception of the principal things in the doctrine of religion, the mind wants facts, principles, associations of ideas, and modes of applying its thoughts, which are to be acquired from the consideration of various other subjects; and partly because, even though it did _not_, and though it _were_ practicable to understand religious truths clearly without the subsidiary ideas, and the disciplined mental habit acquired in attention to other subjects, _it is flatly contrary to the radical disposition of human nature_ that youthful spirits should yield themselves to a bare exclusively religious discipline. it were supposing a reversal of the natural taste and tendency, to expect them to apply their attention so patiently, so willingly, so long, and with such interest, to this one subject, as to be brought to an intelligent apprehension through the almost sole exercise of thinking on this. by thinking on this!--which is the subject on which they are by their very nature the least of all inclined to think; the subject on which it is the most difficult as well as the most important point in education to induce them to think; the subject which, while it is essential to give it the ascendency in the instruction of both the lower classes and all others, it requires so much care and address to present in an attractive light; and which it is so desirable to combine with other subjects naturally more engaging, in order to bring it oftener by such associations into the thoughts, in that secondary manner, which causes somewhat less of recoil. it is curious to see what some persons can believe, or affect to believe, when reduced to a dilemma. on the one hand, they cannot endure the idea of any considerable raising of the common people by mental improvement, in the general sense: that were ruin to social order. but then on the other, if it must not be plainly denied, that the said common people are of the very same rational nature as the most elevated divisions of the race; and that their essential worth must be in this spiritual thinking being, which worth is lost to them, if that being is sunk and degraded in gross ignorance, it follows that some kind of cultivation is required. well then; we must give them some religious knowledge, unaccompanied by such other knowledge as would much more attractively invite them to exercise their minds, and _it will be practicable and easy enough_ to engage their habitual attention to that very subject, almost exclusively, to which the natural taste of the species is peculiarly averse. in exposing the absurdity of any scheme of education for the inferior classes, which should propose to make them intelligent about religion while intelligent about nothing else except their ordinary employments, we do not forget the instances now and then met with of pious poor men who, while very uncultivated in the general sense, evince a remarkable clearness of conception on religious topics, and in the application of these topics to their duties as men and citizens. but "remarkable" we involuntarily call these phenomena, whenever adverting to them. we naturally use some expression importing a degree of wonder at such a fact. we think it a striking illustration of the power of _religion itself_, and not of the power of religious instruction. the extreme force with which the vital spirit has seized and actuated his faculties, has in a measure remedied the incapacity he had otherwise been under of forming clear ideas of the subject. even, however, while acknowledging and admiring this effect of a special influence from heaven, we still find ourselves involuntarily surmising, in such an instance, that the man must also have been superior in natural capacity to the generality of ignorant persons; so much out of the common course of things we account it for a man who knows so few things to know this one thing so well. we account it so from the settled conviction received through experience, that it is very unlikely a man ignorant of almost all other things _should_ well understand _one_ subject, of a nature quite foreign to that of his ordinary occupations. it is superfluous to observe, that such instances of a very considerable comprehension of religious truth, obtained in spite of what naturally makes so much against its being attainable, cannot affect the calculation when we are devising schemes which can only work according to natural laws and with ordinary powers. they who devise and apply them will rejoice at these evidences that there is an agent who can open men's minds to the light of religion independently and in the absence of other intellectual advantages. but the question being how to bring the people, by the ordinary means of education, to a competent knowledge of religious truth, we have to consider what way of attempting to impart that knowledge may be the best fitted, at once to obviate the natural indisposition to the subject, and to provide that when it does obtain a place in their understanding, it shall not be a meagre, diminutive, insulated occupant there, but in its proper dimensions and relations. and if, in attentively studying this, there be any who come to ascertain, that the right expedient is a bare inculcation of religious instruction, disconnected, on system, from the illustrative aid of other knowledge, divested of the modification and attraction of associated ideas derived from subjects less uncongenial with the natural feelings,--they really may take the satisfaction of having ascertained one thing more, namely, that human nature has become at last so mightily changed, that it may be left to work itself right very soon, as to the affair of religion, with little further trouble of theirs. * * * * * the special view in which we were pleading, on behalf of popular education, that religious instruction would form a material part of it, was, that this essential ingredient would be a security against its being injurious to the good order and subordination in society. it is the more necessary to be particular on this, as some of those who have professed to lay much stress on the _religious_ instruction of the people have seemed to have little further notion of the necessity or use of religion to the lower classes, than as merely a preserver of good order. in this character it has been insisted on by persons who avowed their aversion to every idea of an education in a more enlarged sense. we have heard it so insisted on, no such long while past, by members of the most learned institutions, at the same moment that they expressed more than a doubt of the prudence of enabling the common people to read, literally to _read_, the bible. but assuredly the good order of a populace left in the stupid general ignorance to which some of these good friends of theirs would have doomed them, cannot be preserved by any such feeble infusion of religious knowledge as these same good friends would instil into their mental grossness. as long as they are in this condition, there must be some far stronger power acting on them to preserve that good order. and if there actually _has_ been such a power, hitherto competent to preserve it, with only such an impotent scantling of religious knowledge in the majority of the mass, and competent still to preserve it, a great deal of hypocritical canting might have been spared, on the part of those whose chief or only argument for teaching the people religion is the maintenance of that good order. but all this while we are forgetting to inquire how much is to be understood as included in that good order, that deference and subordination, which the possession of more mind and knowledge by the people might disturb or destroy. may not the notion of it, as entertained by some persons, be rather an image of the polity of an age long past, or of that which remains unaltered as if it were a part of eternal nature in the dominions of the east, than a model for the conformation of society here in the present times? is it required, that there should be a sentiment of obsequiousness in the people, affecting them in a manner like the instinct by which a lower order of animals is in awe of a higher, by which the common tribe of beasts would cower at the sight of lions? or, is the deference expected to be paid, not on any understanding of reciprocal advantage, but absolutely and unconditionally, as to a claim founded in abstract or divine right? is it to be held a criminal presumption in the people, to think of examining their relations to the community any further than the obligation of being industrious in the employments to which it assigns them, and dutiful to its higher orders? are they to entertain no question respecting the right adjustment of their condition in the arrangements of the great social body? are they forbidden ever to admit a single doubt of its being quite a matter of course, that everything which could be done for the interests of their class, consistently with the welfare of the whole, _is_ done; or, therefore, to pretend to any such right as that of examining, representing, complaining, remonstrating, or an ultimate recourse, perhaps, in a severe necessity, to stronger expedients? a subordination founded in such principles, and required to such a degree, it is true enough that the communication of knowledge is not the way to perpetuate. for the first use which men will infallibly make of an enlargement of their faculties and ideas, will be, to take a larger view of their interests; and they may happen, as soon as they do so, to think they discover that it was quite time; and the longer they do so, to retain still less and less of implicit faith that those interests will be done justice to, without their own vigilance and intervention. an educated people must be very slow indeed in the application of what they learn, if they do not soon grow out of all belief in the _necessary_ wisdom and rectitude of any order of human creatures whatever. they will see how unreasonable it were to expect, that any sort of men will fail in fidelity to the great natural principle, of making their own advantage the first object; and therefore they will not be apt to listen, with the gravity which in other times and regions may have been shown in listening, to injunctions of gratitude for the willingness evinced by the higher orders to take on them the trouble of watching and guarding the people's welfare, by keeping them in due submission. but neither will it necessarily be in the spirit of hostility, in the worst sense of the word, that a more instructed people will thus show a diminished credulity of reverence toward the predominant ranks in the social economy; and will keep in habitual exercise upon them a somewhat suspicious observation, and a judicial estimate; with an honest freedom in sometimes avowing disapprobation, and strongly asserting any right which is believed to be endangered or withheld. this will only be expressing that, since all classes naturally consult by preference their own interests, it is plainly unfit, that one portion of the community should be trusted with an unlimited discretion in ordering what affects the welfare of the others; and that, in all prudence, the people must refuse an entire affiance, and unconditional, unexamining acquiescence; "except the gods, whose dwelling is not with flesh," would come to harmonize, and then administer, interests which are so placed unappeasably at strife;--at strife; for, what is so often asserted of those interests being in reality the same, is true only on that comprehensive theory which neither party is prompt to understand, or willing to make sacrifices of a more immediate self-interest to realize; and it is evidently impossible for either, even if believing it true, to concede to the other the exclusive adjustment of the practical mode of identification. but only let the utmost that is possible be done, to train the people, from their early years, to a sound use of their reason, under a discipline for imparting a valuable portion of knowledge, and assiduously inculcating the principles of social duty and of religion; and then something may be said, to good purpose, to their understanding and conscience, while they are maintaining the competition of claims with their superiors. they will then be capable of seeing put in a fair balance, many things which headlong ignorance would have taken all one way. they will be able to appreciate many explanations, alleged causes of delay, statements of difficulty between opposing reasons, which would be thrown away on an ignorant populace. and it would be an inducement to their making a real exertion of the understanding, that they thus found themselves so formally put upon their responsibility for its exercise; that they were summoned to a rational discussion, instead of being addressed in the style of pharaoh to the israelites. the strife of interests would thus come to be carried on with less fierceness and malice, in the spirit and manner, on the part of the people. and the ground itself of the contention, the substance of the matters in contest, would be gradually diminished, by the concessions of the higher classes to the claims of the lower; for there is no affecting to dissemble, that a great mental and moral improvement of the people would necessitate, though there were not a single movement of rude force in the case, important concessions to them, on the part of the superior orders. a people advanced to such a state, would make its moral power felt in a thousand ways, and every moment. this general augmentation of sense and right principle would send forth, against all arrangements and inveterate or more modern usages, of the nature of invidious exclusion, arbitrary repression, and the debasement of great public interests into a detestable private traffic, an energy, which could no more be resisted than the power of the sun, when he advances in the spring to annihilate the relics and vestiges of the winter. this plastic influence would modify the institutions of the national community, to a state better adapted to secure all the popular rights; and to convey the genuine, collective opinion, to bear directly on the counsel and transaction of national concerns. that opinion would be so unequivocally manifested, as to leave no pretence for a doubtful interpretation of its signs; and with such authority as to preclude any question whether to set it at defiance. that such effects _would_ be inseparable from a great general advancement of the people in knowledge and corrected character, must be freely acknowledged to its disapproves. and is it _because_ these would be the consequences, that they disapprove it? then let them say, what it is that _they_ would expect from an opposite system. _what_ is it, that they could seriously promise themselves, from the conservative virtue of all the ignorance, that can henceforward be retained among the people of this part of the world? it is true, the remaining ignorance is so great that they cannot well overrate its _general_ amount; but how can they fail to perceive the importance of those _particulars_ in which its dominion has been broken up? there is indeed a hemisphere of "gross darkness over the people;" it may be possible to withhold from it long the illumination of the sun; but in the mean time it has been rent by portentous lights and flashes, which have excited a thought and agitation not to be stilled by the continuance of the gloom. there have come in on the popular mind some ideas, which the wisest of those who dread or hate their effect there, look around in vain for the means of expelling. and these glimpses of partial intelligence, these lights of dubious and possibly destructive direction amidst the night, will continue to prompt and lead that mind, with a hazard which can sease only with the opening upon it of the true daylight of knowledge. that knowledge should have been antecedent to the falling of these inflammatory ideal among the people; and if they have come before the proper time, that is to say, before the people were prepared to judge rationally of their rights, and to apprehend clearly the duties inseparable from them as a condition of their enjoyment, the calamitous consequences to the higher classes, as seen in the recent history of europe, may be regarded as a righteous judgment of heaven upon them, for having suffered it to be _possible_ for these new ideas of liberty and rights to come to the people in a state so unprepared. what were all their commanding authorities of government, their splendid ecclesiastical establishments, their great personal wealth and influence,--all their lofty powers and distinctions which even their basest sycophants, sacerdotal or poetical, told them, as one topic of adulation, that they were not entrusted with for their own sole gratification,--what were all these for, if the great body of the communities over which they presided were to be retained in a state in which they could not be touched by a few bold speculations in favor of popular rights, without exploding as with infernal fire? how appropriate a retribution of sovereign justice, that those who were wickedly the cause should be the victims of the effect. where such a consequence has not followed, but where, nevertheless, these notions of popular rights have come into the minds of the people very much in precedence and disproportion to the general cultivation of their intelligence and moral sense, it is most important that all diligence should be given to bring up these neglected improvements to stand in rank with those too forward speculations. whether this shall be done or not, these notions and feelings are not things come into life without an instinct of what they have to do. the disapproves of schemes for throwing the greatest practicable measure of sound corrective knowledge into the minds of the multitude, may take instruction or may decline it from seeing that, both in this country and other states of europe, there has gone forth among the mass of the people a spirit of revolt from the obligation, which would retain their reverence to institutions on the strength simply of their being established or being ancient; a spirit that reacts, with deep and settled antipathy, against some of the arrangements and claims of the order into which the national community has been disposed by institutions and the course of events; a spirit which regards some of the appointments and requirements of that order, as little better than adaptations of the system to the will and gratification of the more fortunate divisions of the species. and it has shown itself in a very different character from that of a mere pining despondency, or the impotent resentment excited sometimes in timidity itself by severe grievance, but quelled by alarm at its own rashness. the element and the temperament of its nature, and the force of its action, have been displayed in the tremendous concussions attending its conflict with the power arrayed in behalf of the old order of things to crush it. and _is_ this spirit crushed? is it subdued? is it in the least degree reduced?--reduced, we mean, in its internal power, as a combination of the most absolute opinion with the impulse of some of the strongest passions. is it, we repeat, repressed? there may have been persons who could not, "good easy men," conceive a possibility of its surviving the fiery storm of the whole resources of the world converted into the materials of war, to be poured on it, and followed by the mightiest leagues and the most systematic legislation, all aimed at its destruction; surviving to come forth with unabated vigor at the opportune junctures in the future progress of events; like some great serpent, coming out again to glare on the sight, with his appalling glance and length of volume, after a volley of missiles had sent him to his retreat. the old approved expedients against unreasonable discontents, and refractory tempers, and local movements of hostility excited by some worthless competitor for power, had been combined and applied on the grand scale; and henceforward all was to be still. it was not given to these spell-bound understandings to apprehend that the spirit to be repressed might be of a nature impassive to these expedients, possibly to be confirmed by their application. repressed! what is it that is manifesting itself in the most remarkable events in the old, and what has been called the new world, at the present time? and what are the measures of several of the great state authorities of europe, whether adopted in deliberate policy, or in a fitful mood between rashness and dismay; what are, especially, the meetings, conferences, and military preparations, of the mightiest despots of the globe, assembled at this very hour against a small and unoffending nation, [footnote: the meeting of imperial and royal personages at troppau and laybach, for the detestable purpose of crushing the newly acquired liberty of the kingdom of naples.--january, .]--what are these but a confession or proclamation, that the spirit which the most enormous exertions had been made to overwhelm, has preserved its life and energy; like those warring immortal powers whom milton describes as having mountains thrown on them in vain? the progress of time renders it but more evident, that the principle in action is something far different from a superficial transient irritation; that it has gone the whole depth of the mind; has possessed itself of the very judgment and conscience of an innumerable legion, augmented by a continual and endless accession. no doubt is permitted to remain of the direction which has been taken by the current of the popular feeling,--to be recovered to its ancient obsequious course when some great river which has farced a new channel shall resume that which it has abandoned. for when once the great mass, of the lower and immensely larger division of the community, shall have become filled with an absolute, and almost unanimous conviction, that they, the grand physical agency of that community; that they, the operators, the producers, the preparers, of almost all it most essentially wants; that they, the part, therefore, of the social assemblage so obviously the most essential to its existence, and on which all the rest must depend; that they have their condition in the great social arrangement so disposed as not to acknowledge this their importance, as not to secure an adequate reward of these their services;--we say, when this shall have become the pervading intense conviction of the millions of europe, we put it as a question to any rational thinker, whether and how this state of feeling can be reversed or neutralized, if the economy which has provoked it shall yield to no modification. but it _is_ no question, he will confess. then will he pretend not to foresee any material change in an order of things obnoxious to so vast a combination of wills and agents? this may indeed be seriously avowed by some, who are so walled up in old prejudice and presumption that they really have no look out; who, because a thing has been long established, mistake its artificial substruction of crumbling materials for the natural rock; and it will be pretended by others, who think the bravado of asserting the impossibility of the overthrow may be a good policy for deterring the attempt. there has not been one of the great alterations effected by the popular spirit within the last half-century, that was not preceded by professions of contemptuous incredulity, on the part of the applauders of things as they were, toward those who calculated on the effects of that spirit. there were occasionally betrayed, under these shows of confidence and contempt, some signs of horror at the undeniable excitement and progress of popular feeling; but the scorn of all serious and monitory predictions of its ultimate result was at all events to be kept up,--in whatever proportions a time-serving interest and an honest fatuity might share in dictating this elated and contemptuous style. should the latter of these ingredients at present predominate in the temper which throws off the fume of this high style, it will not leave much faculty in the defiers of all revolution, for explaining what it is they have to trust to as security against such consequences as we should anticipate from the progress of disapprobation and aversion in the people; unless indeed the security mainly relied on is just that plain, simple expedient--force, for all nations on earth--downright force. it is plainly this that is meant, when persons disinclined to speak out give us a circumlocution of delicate phrases, "the conservative energies of the public institutions," "the majesty of the law," perhaps, and others of similar cast;--which fine phrases suggest to one's imagination the ornamented fashion of the handle and sheath of the scimitar, which is not the less keen, nor the less ready to be drawn, for all this finery that hides and garnishes so menacing a symbol of power. the economy of states _shall_ not be modified in favor of the great body of those who constitute them.--and are, then, the higher and privileged portions of the national communities to have, henceforward, just this one grand object of their existence, this chief employment for their knowledge, means, and power, namely, to keep down the lower orders of their fellow-citizens by stress of coercion? are they resolved and prepared for a rancorous, interminable hostility in prosecution of such a benign purpose; with a continual exhaustion upon it of the resources which might be applied to diminish that wretchedness of the people, which is the grand inflamer of those principles that have caused an earthquake under the foundations of the old social systems? but, "interminable" is no proper epithet to be applied to such a course. this policy of a bare uncompromising rigor, exerted to keep the people just where they are, in preference to adjustments formed on a calculation of a material change, and adapted to prepare them for it--how long could it be successful--not to ask what would be the value or the glory of that success? with the light of recent history to aid the prognostication, by what superstitious mode of estimating the self-preserving, and self-avenging competence of any artificial form of social order, can we believe in its power to throw back the general opinions, determinations, and efforts, of the mass of mankind in endless recoil on themselves? that must be a very firm structure, must be of gigantic mass or most excellent basis and conformation, against which the ocean shall unremittingly wear and foam in vain. and it does not appear what there can be of such impregnable consistence in any particular construction of the social economy which is, by the supposition, resolved to be maintained in sovereign immutability, in permanent frustration of the persevering, ever-growing aim and impulse of the great majority, pressing on to achieve important innovations in their favor; innovations in those systems of institution and usage, under which they will never cease to think they have had far less happiness, or means of happiness, than they ought to have had. we cannot see how this impulse can be so repelled or diverted that it shall not prevail at length, to the effect of either bearing down, or wearing away, a portion of the order of things which the ascendant classes in every part of europe would have fondly wished to maintain in perpetuity, without one particle of surrender. but though they cannot preserve its entireness, the manner in which it shall yield to modification is in a great measure at their command. and here is the important point on which all these observations are meant to bear. if a movement has really begun in the general popular mind of the nations, and if the principle of it is growing and insuppressible, so that it must in one manner or another ultimately prevail, what will the state be of any national community where it shall be an unenlightened, half-barbarous people that so prevails?--a people no better informed, perhaps, than to believe that all the hardship and distress endured by themselves and their forefathers were wrongs, which they suffered from the higher orders; than to ascribe to bad government, and the rapacity and selfishness of the rich, the very evils caused by inclement seasons; and than to assume it as beyond question, that the whole accumulation of their resentments, brought out into action at last, is only justice demanding and inflicting a retribution. in such an event, what would not the superior orders be glad to give and forego, in compromise with principles, tempers, and demands, which they will know they should never have had to encounter, to the end of time, if, instead of spending their vast advantages on merely their own state and indulgence, they had applied them in a mode of operation and influence tending to improve, in every way, the situation and character of the people? it is true, that such a wild triumph of overpowering violence would necessarily be short. a blind, turbulent monster of popular power never can for a long time maintain the domination of a political community. it would rage and riot itself out of breath and strength, succumb under some strong coercion of its own creating, and lie subject and stupified, till its spirit should be recovered and incensed for new commotion. but this impossibility of a very prolonged reign of confusion, would be little consolation for the classes against whose privileged condition the first tremendous eruption should have driven. it would not much cheer a man who should see his abode carried away, and his fields and plantations devastated, to tell him that the agent of this ruin was only a transient mountain torrent. a short prevalence of the overturning force would have sufficed for the subversion of the proudest, longest established state of privilege; and most improbable would it be, that those who lost it in the tumult, would find the new authority, of whatever shape or name it were, that would arise as that tumult subsided, either able or disposed to restore it. they might perhaps, (on a favorable supposition,) survive in personal safety, but in humiliated fortunes, to ruminate on their manner of occupying their former elevated situation, and of employing its ample means of power, a due share of which, exerted for the improvement of the general condition, both intellectual and civil, with an accompanying liberal yet gradual concession of privileges to the people, would have prevented the catastrophe. let us urge, then, that a zealous endeavor to render it absolutely impossible that, in any change whatever, the destinies of a nation should fall under the power of an ignorant infuriated multitude, may take place of the presumption that there _is_ no great change to be ever effected by the progressive and conscious importance of the people; a presumption than which nothing can appear more like infatuation, when we look at the recent scenes and present temperament of the moral world. lay hold on the myriads of juvenile spirits, before they have time to grow up through ignorance into a reckless hostility to social order; train them to sense and good morals: inculcate the principles of religion, simply and solemnly _as_ religion, as a thing directly of divine dictation, and not as if its authority were chiefly in virtue of human institutions; let the higher orders generally make it evident to the multitude that they are desirous to raise them in value, and promote their happiness; and then _whatever_ the demands of the people as a body, thus improving in understanding and the sense of justice, shall come to be, and _whatever_ modification their preponderance may ultimately enforce on the great social arrangements, it will be infallibly certain that there never _can_ be a love of disorder, an insolent anarchy, a prevailing spirit of revenge and devastation. such a conduct of the ascendant ranks would, in this nation at least, secure that, as long as the world lasts, there never would be any formidable commotion, or violent sudden changes. all those modifications of the national economy to which an improving people would aspire and would deserve to obtain, would be gradually accomplished, in a manner by which no party would be wronged, and all would be the happier. [footnote: the considerations in the latter part of this section (so plainly on the surface of the subject that they would occur to any thoughtful and observant man) have been verified in part by the course of events in our country, since the time they were written. at that, time the superior, and till then irresistibly and invariably predominant, portion of the community, felt themselves in perfect security against any comprehensive and radical change within the ensuing twelve or fourteen years. there might indeed be one or two subordinate matters in the established national system in which they might deem it not unlikely that the advocates and laborers for innovation would be successful; but such an amount of innovation did not come within the view of even a feverish dream. any man who should have predicted, especially, the recent greatest achievement against the inveterate system, [footnote: the reform bill.] would have been laughed at as an incorrigible visionary; so proudly confident were they that the structure would be kept compact and impregnable in all its essential parts, by the cement of ancient institution, national veneration, opulence, and the inherence of actual power, possessed from generation to generation. in the next place, they were obstinately resolute against all material concessions. when at intervals the complaints, claims, and remonstrances of the people sought to be heard, they treated them as unreasonable, absurd, factious; and asserted that none of the good sense and right feeling of the nation went that way. they declared that the existing order of things was on the whole so superlatively excellent that, if there were, perhaps, any trifling defects, it were far better to let them alone than to presume to touch with an innovating hand the integrity of so noble a system, the admiration and envy of all the world. as it was, it had "worked well" for our happiness and glory; and who could say, if a tampering of alteration were once suffered to begin, where it might end? order the people to be quiet; let their factious demands and seditious movements be promptly and firmly repressed by authority; and they would sink into insignificance and silence. to think of such a thing as condescending to conciliate by moderate concessions would be weakness, and might eventually bring a hazard which otherwise could have no existence. and now for the consequence: the popular spirit, thus set at naught in present account and in calculation for the future, was discouraged from active outward manifestation, by the invetorate, perfectly organized, and, for the present, resistless domination. but under the pressure of wide-spread and unabating grievance, which quickened and envenomed every sentiment previously entertained regarding the rights and wrongs of the people, it was gradually acquiring, throughout the country, a more determinate sense of being absolved from all submissive respect toward the ascendant party, a more entire conviction of its right to vindicate its claims in any manner that should become practicable, and a hostility, but the more deep and intense for its being kept under by despondency of present success, against those who were rejecting and contemptuously defying those claims. it wanted, then, only some occurrence that should present a possibility and a hope of success to burst out in sudden ardor. it was thus in collective power and readiness for action, when several events of prodigious excitement came close together; and then, like a stream in one of the swiss valleys, dammed up by a mound of earth or ice fallen across, to a lake deepening without noise, till its vast weight breaks away the obstruction with a tremendous tumult, the popular will bore down the aristocratic embankment, consolidated through so many years or ages. the overpowered party found the consequence of their obstinate and _entire_ resistance; and had to reflect with unmixed mortification how much less than they had lost, and without mitigating by the loss the hostile feeling of those who had taken it from them, would have been received with gratitude if yielded in the way of gradual voluntary concession. happily the change was not left to be accomplished by physical force, as all such changes must be in purely despotic states; but the people fully believe that they chiefly owe the forced surrender to the alarm which their demonstrations excited lest they should bring the question ere long to that arbitrament. but in the last place, there is a deplorable circumstance, attending this sudden rising of the popular spirit into power, and which throws a strong light on the criminal infatuation of a state that suffers the commonalty of its citizens to remain grossly uncultivated and uncivilized--perhaps even fancies it sees in that ignorance a main security for its own stability. the fact is, that the people have acquired their power and privileges, before they are (speaking as to many of them) qualified for a wise and useful exercise of them. a large proportion of those who are now brought into what may be called political existence have grown up so destitute of all means and habits for a right use of their minds, that their notions, wishes, expectations, and determinations, respecting public interests, will exemplify anything rather than a competent judgment. and the proportion so raised is but perhaps a minor part of the multitude in which the popular spirit is embodied and vehemently excited. great numbers on a lower level, and having no formal political capacity to act in, are nevertheless pervaded by a spirit which will bring the rude impulse of mass and combination into the movement of the popular will. if alarmed at such a view, will not they who have so long held the sovereign control over the national economy feel the bitterest regret that it had not been given them to obviate the possible dangers of such a crisis and such a change, or rather to prevent such a crisis and a change so abrupt, by exertions in every way, and on the widest scale, to rescue the people from their ignorance and barbarism, instead of trusting to it for an uncontested undisturbed continuance of their own domination? but they scorned the idea, if it ever occurred, that the many-headed, many-handed "monster," (so named in the dialect of some of them,) after lying prone, and inert, and submissive, from time immemorial, should at last become instinct with spirit, and rise up roaring in defiance of their power. it is now for them to consider whether, by maintaining a temper and attitude of sullen, vindictive, pugnacious alienation from the people, they shall wilfully aggravate whatever injurious consequences may be threatened by so sudden a revolution; or endeavor to intercept them by giving their best assistance to every plan and expedient for rescuing the lower orders from the curse and calamity of ignorance and debasement. other remedial measures, besides that of education, are imperiously demanded by the miserable and formidable condition of the populace, but no other, nor all others together, can avail without it. * * * * * since the date of the above note, the spirit and policy of the ascendant class have been just that which a philanthropist would have deprecated, and a cynic predicted. their moral chagrin at the acquisition by the people of a new political rank, an event by which they, (the ascendant class,) had for a while appeared amazed and stunned, has soon recovered to a prodigious activity of device and exertion to nullify that rightful acquisition. for this purpose have been brought into play, on the widest scale, that of the whole kingdom, all the means and resources of wealth, station, and power; with the utmost recklessness of equity, honor, and even humanity; deluding the ignorant, corrupting the venal, and intimidating and punishing the conscientious: insomuch that the nominally conceded right or privilege is practically reduced to an inconsiderable proportion of its pre-estimated worth; while aristocratic tyranny has rendered it to many of the most deserving to possess it no better than an inflicted grievance. one important measure for the improvement of the condition of the lower orders has been effected, because the anti-popular party saw it advantageous also to their own interests. but for the general course of their policy, we have witnessed a systematic determination to frustrate measures framed in recognition of the rights and wants of the people. as to their education, it continues abandoned to the efforts and totally inadequate means of private individuals and societies; except a comparative trifle from the state, not so much for the whole nation for the whole year as the cost of some useless, gaudy, barbaric pageant of one day.--it is evident the predominant portion of the higher classes trouble themselves very little about the mental condition of the populace. it is even understood that a chief obstacle in the way of any comprehensive legislation on the subject is found or apprehended in the repugnance of those classes to any liberal scheme: any scheme that, aiming simply at the general good, should boldly set aside invidious restrictions and a jealous, parsimonious limitation; a scheme that should not work in subjection to the mean self-interest of this party or that, but for the one grand purpose of raising millions from degradation into rational existence.] section v. the most serious form of the evil caused by a want of mental improvement, is that which is exposed to us in its consequences with respect to the most important concern of all, religion. this has been briefly adverted to in a former part of these descriptive observations. but the subject seems to merit a more amplified illustration, and may be of sufficient interest to excuse some appearance of repetition. the special view in which we wish to place it, is that of _the inaptitude of uncultivated minds for receiving religious instruction._--but first, a slight estimate may be attempted of the actual state of religious notions among our uneducated population. _some_ notion of such a concern, something different in their consciousness from the absolute negation of the idea, something that faintly responds to the terms which would be used by a person conversing with them, in the way of questioning them on the subject, may be presumed to exist in the minds of all who are advanced a considerable way into youth, or come to mature age, in a country where all are familiar with several of the principal terms of theology, and have the monitory spectacle of edifices for religious use, on spots appointed also for the interment of the dead. if this sort of measured caution in the assumption seem bordering on the ridiculous, we would recommend those who would smile at it to make some little experiments. let them insinuate themselves into the company of some of the innumerable rustics who have grown up destitute of everything worth calling education; or of the equally ill-fated beings in the alleys, precincts, and lower employments of towns. with due management to avoid the abruptness and judicial formality, which, would preclude a communicative disposition, they might take occasion to introduce remarks tending, without the express form of questions in the first instance, to draw out the thoughts of some of these persons respecting god, jesus christ, the human soul, the invisible world. and the answers would often put them to a stand to conceive, under what suspension of the laws of rational existence the utterers could have been passing so many years in the world. these answers might dispel, as by a sudden shock, the easy and contented assurance, if so unknowing a notion had been entertained, that almost all the people _must_, in one way or another, have become decently apprized of a few first principles of religion; that this _could_ not have failed to be the case in what was expressly constituted a great christian community, with an obligation upon it, that none of its members should be left destitute of the most essential requisite to their well-being. this agreeable assurance would vanish, like a dream interrupted, at the spectacle thus presented, of persons only not quite as devoid of those first principles, after living eighteen, thirty, forty, or twice forty years, under the superintendence of that community, as if they had been the aboriginal rovers of the american forests, or natives of unvisited coral-built spots in the ocean. if these examiners were to prosecute the investigation widely, and with an effect on their sentiments correspondent to the enlarging disclosure of facts, they could find themselves fallen into a very altered estimate of this our christian tract of the earth. a fancied sunshine, spread over it before, would have faded away. from appearing to them, according to an accustomed notion, peculiarly auspicious, as if almost by some virtue of its climate, to the growth of religious intelligence in the minds of the people, it might come to be regarded as favorable to the development of _all things rather than that_. plants and trees, the diversity of animal forms and powers, the human frame, the features enlarging or enlarged to manhood in the younger persons looked at by the supposed examiner while answering his questions, with their passions also, and prevailing dispositions,--see how all things can unfold themselves in our territory, and grow and enlarge to their completeness,--except the ideas of the human soul relating to the almighty, and to the grand purpose of its own existence! the supposed answers would in many instances betray, that any thought of god at all was of very rare occurrence, the idea having never become strongly associated with anything beheld in the whole creation. we should think it probable, as we have said before, that with many, while in health, weeks or months often pass away without this idea being once so presented as to fix the mind in attention to it for one moment of time. if they could be set to any such task as that of retracing, at the end of the days or the weeks, the course of their thoughts, to recollect what particulars in the series had struck the most forcibly and stayed the longest, it may be suspected that _this_ idea, thus impressively apprehended, would be as rare a recollection as that of having seen a splendid meteor. yet during that space of time, their thoughts, such as they were, shall have run through thousands of changes; and even the name of god may have been pronounced by them a multitude of times, in jocularity or imprecation. thus there is a broad easy way to atheism through thoughtless ignorance, as well as a narrow and difficult one through subtle speculation. but that idea of god which has, by some means, found its way into their understandings, to abide there so nearly in silence and oblivion,--what is it, when some direct call does really evoke it? it is generally a gross approximation of the conception of the infinite being to the likeness of man. if what they have heard of his being a spirit, has indeed some little effect in prevention of the total debasement of the idea, it prevents it rather by confusion than by magnificence. it may somewhat restrain and baffle the tendency of the imagination to a direct degrading definition; but it does so by a dissolution of the idea as into an attenuated cloud. and ever and anon, this cloudy diffusion is again drawing in, and shaping itself toward an image, vast perhaps, and spectral, portentous across the firmament, but in some near analogy to the human mode of personality. the divine attribute which is apprehended by them with most of an impression of reality, is a certain vastness of power. but, through the grossness of their intellectual atmosphere, this appears to them in the character of something prodigiously huge, rather than sublimely glorious.--as considered in his quality of moral judicial governor, god is regarded by some of them as more disposed, than there is any reasonable cause, to be displeased with what is done in this world. but the far greater number have no prevailing sentiment that he takes any very vigilant account or concern. [footnote: some have no very distinct impression the one way or the other. not very long since, a friend of the writer, in one of the midland counties, fell into talk, on a sunday, with a man who had been in some very plain violation of the consecrated character of the day. he seriously animadverted on this, adding, don't you think god will be displeased at and punish such conduct? or words to that effect. the man, after a moment's consideration, answered, with unaffected cool simplicity, exactly thus: "that's according as how a takes it." numerous anecdotes of the same cast have been more recently heard; and among them that of a conversation with a thoughtless man, of worthless character, not in the lowest condition in society, and then consciously near death. the religious visitor represented to him the serious and alarming situation of a man on the point of going from a sinful life into the presence of god as a judge. the man, with a sort of general acknowledgment that it was so, yet hoped that god would not be severe with him. but the visitor anxiously pressed upon him the consideration that god is a just being, and judges by a holy law: to which at last the answer was, with little emotion, "then god and i must fight it out as well as we can." the phrase, in his use of it, did not mean anything of the nature of a hostile contest, but simply the _settling of an affair_, which he thought might be done without any great danger or trouble.] and even those who entertain the more ungracious apprehension, have it not in sufficient force to make them, once in whole months, deliberately think it worth while to care what he may disapprove.] the notions that should answer to the doctrine of a providence, are a confusion of some crude idea of a divine superintendence, with stronger fancies and impressions of luck and chance; a confusion of them not unaptly exemplified in a grave and well-meaning sentiment heard from a man in a temporal condition to be envied by many of his neighbors, "providence must take its chance." and these are still further, and most uncouthly, confounded by the admixture of the ancient heathen notion of fate, reduced from its philosophy to its dregs. in many instances, however, this last obtains such a predominance, as to lessen the confusion, and withal to preclude, in a great measure, the sense of accountableness. in neither of these rude states of the understanding, (that which confounds providence and chance, and that which sinks in dull acquiescence to something obscurely imagined like fate,) is there any serious admission, at least during the enjoyment of health, of the duty or advantage of prayer. the supposed examiner may endeavor to possess himself of the notions concerning the redeemer of the world. they would be found, in numerous instances, amounting literally to no more than, that jesus christ was a worthy kind of person, (the word has actually been "gentleman," in more than one instance that we have heard from unquestionable testimony,) who once, somewhere, (these national christians had never in their lives, thought of inquiring when or where,) did a great deal of good, and was very ill used by bad people. the people now, they think, bad as they may be, would not do so in the like case. some of these persons may occasionally have been at church; and are just aware that his name often recurs in its services; they never considered why; but they have a vague impression of its repetition having some kind of virtue, perhaps rather in the nature of a spell.--the names of the four evangelists are by some held literally and technically available for such a use. a few steps withdrawn from this thickest of the mental fog, there are many who are not entirely uninformed of something having been usually affirmed, by religious formularies and teachers, of jesus christ's being more than a man, and of his having done some thing of great importance toward preventing our being punished for our sins. this combination of a majestic superiority to the human nature, with a subsistence yet confessedly human, just passes their minds like a shape formed of a shadow, as one of the unaccountable things that may be as it is said, for what they know, but which they need not trouble themselves to think about. as to the great things said to be done by him, to save men from being punished, they see indeed no necessity for such an expedient, but if it is so, very right, and so much the better; for between that circumstance in our favor, and god's being too good, after all that is said of his holiness and wrath, to be severe on such poor creatures, we must have a good chance of coming off safely at last. but multitudes of the miserably poor, however wicked, have a settled assurance of this coming off well at last, independently of anything effected for men by the mediator: they shall be exempted, they believe, from any future suffering in consideration of their having suffered so much here. there is nothing, in the scanty creed of great numbers, more firmly held than this. it is true, they believe that the most atrociously wicked must go to a state of punishment after death. they consider murderers, especially, as under this doom. but the offences so adjudged, according to any settled estimate they have of the demerit of bad actions, are comprised in a very short catalogue. at least it is short if we could take it exclusively of the additions made to it by the resentments of individuals. for each one is apt to make his own particular addition to it, of some offence which he would never have accounted so heinous, but that it has happened to be committed against _him_. we can recollect the exultation of sincere faith, seen mingling with the anger, of an offended man, while _predicting_, as well as imprecating, this retribution of some injury he had suffered; a real injury, indeed, yet of a kind which he would have held in small account had he only seen it done to another person.--as to the nature of that future punishment, the ideas of these neglected minds go scarcely at all beyond the images of corporal anguish, conveyed by the well-known metaphors. they have no impressive idea of the pain of remorse, and scarcely the faintest conception of an infelicity inflicted by the conscious loss of the divine favor. it is most striking to observe how almost wholly negative are their conceptions of that future happiness which must be _something_--but what?--as the necessary alternative of the evil they so easily assure themselves of escaping. the abstracted, contemplative, and elevated ideas of the celestial happiness are far above their apprehension; and indeed, though they were not, would be little attractive. and the more ordinary modes of representing it in religious discourse, (if they should ever have heard enough of such discourse to be acquainted with them,) are too uncongenial with their notions of pleasure to have a welcome, or abiding place, in their imagination or affections. thus the soul, as to this great subject, is vacant and cold. and here the reflection again returns, what an inexpressible poverty of the mind there is, when the people have no longer a mythology, and yet have not obtained in its place any knowledge of the true religion. the martial vagrants of scandinavia glowed with the vivid anticipations of valhalla; the savages of the western continent had their animating visions of the "land of souls;" the modern christian barbarians of england, who also expect to live after death, do not know what they mean by the! phrase of "going to heaven." most of this class of persons think very little in any way whatever of the invisible spiritual economy. and some of them would be pleased with a still more complete exemption from such thought. for there are among them those who are liable to be occasionally affected with certain ghostly recognitions of something out of the common world. but it is remarkable how little these may contribute to enforce the salutary impressions of religion. for instance, a man subject to the terror of apparitions shall not therefore be in the smallest degree the less profane, except just at the time that this terror is upon him. a number of persons, not one of whom durst walk, alone, at midnight, round a lonely church, encompassed with graves, to which has perhaps lately been added that of a notoriously wicked man, will nevertheless, on a fine sunday morning, form a row of rude idlers, standing in the road to this very church, to vent their jokes on the persons going thither to attend the offices of religion, and on the performers of those offices. such, as regarding religion, is the state out of which it is desired to redeem a multitude of the people of this land. or rather, we should say, it is sought to save a multitude from being consigned to it. for consider, in the next place, (what we wished especially to point at, in this most important article in the enumeration of the evils of ignorance,) consider what a fatal inaptitude for receiving the truths of religion is created by the neglect of training minds to the exercise of their faculties, and the possession of the elements of knowledge. how inevitably it must be so, from the nature of the case!--there is a sublime economy of invisible realities. there is the supreme existence, an infinite and eternal spirit. there are spiritual existences, that have kindled into brightness and power, from nothing, at his creating will, there is an universal government, omnipotent, all-wise, and righteous, of that supreme being over the creation. there is the immense tribe of human spirits, in a most peculiar and alarming predicament, held under eternal obligation of conformity to a law proceeding from the holiness of that being, but perverted to a state of disconformity to it, and opposition to him. next, there is a signal anomaly of moral government, the constitution of a new state of relation between the supreme governor and this alienated race, through a mediator, who makes an atonement for human iniquity, and stands representative before almighty justice, for those who in grateful accordance to the mysterious appointment consign themselves to this charge. there are the several doctrines declaratory of this new constitution through all its parts. there is the view of religion in its operative character, or the doctrine of the application of its truths and precepts by a divine agency to transform the mind and rectify the life. and this solemn array of all the sublimest reality, and most important intelligence, is extending infinitely away beyond the sensible horizon of our present state to an invisible world, to which the spirits of men proceed at death for judgment and retribution, and with the prospect of living forever. look at this scene of faith, so distinct, and stretching to such remoteness, from the field of ordinary things; of a subsistence which it is for intellect alone to apprehend; presenting objects with which intellect alone can hold converse. look at this scene; and then consider, what manner of beings you are calling upon to enter into it by contemplation. beings who have never learned to think at all. beings who have hardly ever once, in their whole lives, made a real effort to direct and concentrate the action of their faculties on anything abstracted from the objects palpable to the senses; whose entire attention has been engrossed, from their infancy, with the common business, the low amusements and gratifications, the idle talk, the local occurrences, which formed the whole compass of the occupation, and practically acknowledged interests, of their progenitors. beings who have never been made in the least familiar with even the matters of fact, those especially of the scripture history, by which religious truths have been expressed and illustrated in the substantial form of events, and personal characters. beings who, in natural consequence of this unexercised and unfurnished condition of their understandings, will combine the utmost aversion to any effort of purely intellectual labor, with the especial dislike which it is in the human disposition to feel toward this class of subjects. what kind of ideas should you imagine to be raised in their minds, by all the words you might employ, to place within their intellectual vision some portion of this spiritual order of things,--even should you be able, which you often would not, to engage any effort of attention to the subject?--and yet we have heard this disqualification for receiving religious knowledge, in consequence of the want of early mental culture, made very light of by men whose pretensions to judgment had no less a foundation than an academical course and a consecrated profession. they would maintain, with every appearance of thinking so, that a very little, that the barest trifle, of regulated exercise of the mind in youth, would be enough for the common people as a preparation for gaining as much knowledge of religion as they could ever want; that any such thing as a practice of reading, (a practice of hazardous tendency.) would be needless for the purpose, since they might gain a competence of that knowledge by attendance on the public ministration in the church. and there must have been a very recent acquiescence in a new fashion of opinion, if numbers of the same class of men would not, in honestly avowing their thoughts, say something not far different at this hour. but the pretended facility of gaining a competence of religious knowledge by such persons on such terms, can only mean, that the smallest conceivable portion of it may suffice. for we may appeal to those pious and benevolent persons who have made the most numerous trials, for testimony to the inaptitude of uneducated people to receive that kind of instruction. you have visited, perhaps, some numerous family, or sunday assemblage of several related families; to which you had access without awkward intrusion, in consequence of the acquaintance arising from near neighborhood, or of little services you had rendered, or of the circumstance of any of their younger children coming to your charity schools. it was to you soon made sensible what a sterile, blighted spot of rational nature you were in, by indications unequivocal to your perception, though, it may be, not easily reducible to exact description. and those indications were perhaps almost equally apparent in the young persons, in those advanced to the middle of life, and in those who were evidently destined not long to remain in it, the patriarch, perhaps, and the eldest matron, of the kindred company. you attempted by degrees, with all managements of art, as if you had been seeking to gain a favor for yourselves, to train into the talk some topic bearing toward religion; and which could be followed up into a more explicit reference to that great subject, without the abruptness which causes instant silence and recoil. we will suppose that the gloom of such a moral scene was not augmented to you, by the mortification of observing impatience of this suspension of their usual and favorite tenor of discourse, betrayed in marks of suppressed irritation, or rather by the withdrawing of one, and another, from the company. but it was quite enough to render the moments and feelings some of the most disconsolate you had ever experienced, to have thus immediately before you a number of rational beings as in a dark prison-house, and to feel the impotence of your friendly efforts to bring them out. their darkness of ignorance infused into your spirit the darkness of melancholy, when you perceived that the fittest words you could think of, in every change and combination in which you could dispose them, failed to impart to their understanding, in the meaning you wanted to convey, the most elementary and essential ideas of the most momentous subject. you thought again, perhaps, and again, surely _this_ mode of expression, or _this_, as it is in words not out of common usage, will define the thing to their apprehension. but you were forced to perceive that the common phraseology of the language, those words which make the substance of ordinary discourse on ordinary subjects, had not, for the understandings of these persons, a general applicableness. it seemed as if the mere elemental vehicle, (if we may so name it,) available indifferently for conveying all sorts of sense, except science, had become in its meaning special and exclusive for their own sort of topics. their narrow associations had rendered it incapable of conveying sense to them on matters foreign to their habits. when used on a subject to which they were quite unaccustomed, it became like a stream which, though one and the same current, flows clear on the one side, and muddy (as we sometimes see for a space) on the other; and to them it was clear only at their own edge. and if thus even the plain popular language turned dark on their understandings when employed in explanation of religion, it is easy to imagine what had been the success of a more peculiarly theological phraseology, though it were limited to such terms as are of frequent use in the bible. you continued, however, the effort for a while. as desirous to show you due civility, some of the persons, perhaps the oldest, would give assent to what you said, with some sign of acknowledgment of the importance of the concern. the assent would perhaps be expressed in a form meant and believed to be equivalent to what you had said. and when it gave an intelligible idea, it might probably betray the grossest possible misconception of the first principles of christianity. it might be a crude formation from the very same substance of which some of the worst errors of popery are constituted; and might strongly suggest to you, in a glance of thought, how easily popery might have become the religion of ignorance; how naturally ignorance and corrupt feeling mixing with a slight vague notion of christianity, would turn it into just such a thing as popery. you tried, perhaps, with repeated modifications of your expression, and attempts at illustration, to loosen the false notion, and to place the true one contrasted with it in such a near obviousness to the apprehension, that at least the difference should be seen, and (perhaps you hoped) a little movement excited to think on the subject, and make a serious question of it. but all in vain. the hoary subject of your too late instruction, (a spectacle reminding you painfully of the words which denominate the sign of old age "crown of glory,") either would still take it that it came all to the same thing, or, if compelled to perceive that you really were trying to make him _unthink_ his poor old notions, and learn something new and contrary, would probably retreat, in a little while, into a half sullen, half despondent silence, after observing, that he was too old, "the worse was the luck," to be able to learn about such things, which he never had, like you, the "scholarship" and the time for. in several of the party you perceived the signs of almost a total blank. they seemed but to be waiting for any trifling incident to take their attention, and keep their minds alive. some one with a little more of listening curiosity, but without caring about the subject, might have to observe, that it seemed to him the same kind of thing that the methodist parson, (the term most likely to be used if any very serious and earnest christian instructor had appeared in the neighborhood,) was lately saying in such a one's funeral-sermon. it is too possible that one or two of the visages of the company, of the younger people especially, might wear, during a good part of the time, somewhat of a derisive smile, meaning, "what odd kind of stuff all this is;" as if they could not help thinking it ludicrously strange that any one should be talking of god, of the saviour of mankind, the facts of the bible, the welfare of the soul, the shortness and value of life, and a future account, when he might be talking of the neighboring fair, past or expected, or the local quarrels, or the last laughable incident or adventure of the hamlet. it is particularly observable, that grossly ignorant persons are very apt to take a ludicrous impression from high and solemn subjects; at least when introduced in any other time or way than in the ceremonial of public religious service; when brought forward as a personal concern, demanding consideration everywhere, and which may be urged by individual on individual. you have commonly enough seen this provoke the grin of stupidity and folly. and if you asked yourselves, (for it were in vain to ask _them_,) why it produced this so perverse effect, you had only to consider that, to minds abandoned through ignorance to be totally engrossed by the immediate objects of sense, the grave assumption, and emphatic enforcement, of the transcendent importance of a wholly unseen and spiritual economy, has much the appearance and effect of a great lie attempted to be passed on them. you might indeed recollect also, that the most which some of them are likely to have learnt about religion, is the circumstance, that the persons professing to make it an earnest concern are actually regarded as fit objects of derision by multitudes, not of the vulgar order only, but including many of the wealthy, the genteel, the magisterial, and the dignified in point of rank. individuals of the most ignorant class may stroll into a place of worship, bearing their character so conspicuously in their appearance and manner as to draw the particular notice of the preacher, while addressing the congregation. it may be, that having taken their stare round the place, they go out, just, it may happen, when he is in the midst of a marked, prominent, and even picturesque illustration, perhaps from some of the striking facts or characters of the scripture history, which had not made the slightest ingress on their thoughts or imagination. or they are pleased to stay through the service; during which his eye is frequently led to where several of them may be seated together. without an appearance of addressing them personally, he shall be excited to direct a special effort toward what he surmises to be the state of their minds. he may in this effort acquire an additional force, emphasis, and pointedness of delivery; but especially his utmost mental force shall be brought into action to strike upon their faculties with vivid, rousing ideas, plainly and briefly expressed. and he fancies, perhaps, that he has at least arrested their attention; that what is going from his mind is in some manner or other taking a place in theirs; when some inexpressibly trivial occurring circumstance shows him, that the hold he has on them is not of the strength of a spider's web. those thoughts, those intellects, those souls, are instantly and wholly gone--from a representation of one of the awful visitations of divine judgment in the ancient world--a description of sublime angelic agency, as in some recorded fact in the bible--an illustration of the discourse, miracles, or expiatory sorrows of the redeemer of the world--a strong appeal to conscience on past sin--a statement, perhaps in the form of example, of an important duty in given circumstances--a cogent enforcement of some specific point as of most essential moment in respect to eternal safety;--from the attempted grasp, or supposed seizure, of any such subject, these rational spirits started away, with infinite facility, to the movements occasioned by the falling of a hat from a peg. by the time that any semblance of attention returns, the preacher's address may have taken the form of pointed interrogation, with very defined supposed facts, or even real ones, to give the question and its principle as it were a tangible substance. well; just at the moment when his questions converge to a point, which was to have been a dart of conviction striking the understanding, and compelling the common sense and conscience of the auditors to answer for themselves,--at that moment, he perceives two or three of the persons he had particularly in view begin an active whispering, prolonged with the accompaniment of the appropriate vulgar smiles. they may possibly relapse at length, through sheer dulness, into tolerable decorum; and the instructor, not quite losing sight of them, tries yet again, to impel some serious ideas through the obtuseness of their mental being. but he can clearly perceive, after the animal spirits have thus been a little quieted by the necessity of sitting still awhile, the signs of a stupid vacancy, which is hardly sensible that anything is actually saying, and probably makes, in the case of some of the individuals, what is mentally but a slight transition to yawning and sleep. utter ignorance is a most effectual fortification to a bad state of the mind. prejudice may perhaps, be removed; unbelief may be reasoned with; even demoniacs have been compelled to bear witness to the truth; but the stupidity of confirmed ignorance not only defeats the ultimate efficacy of the means for making men wiser and better, but stands in preliminary defiance to the very act of their application. it reminds us of an account, in one of the relations of the french egyptian campaigns, of the attempt to reduce a garrison posted in a bulky fort of mud. had the defences been of timber, the besiegers might have set fire to and burned them; had they been of stone, they might have shaken and ultimately breached them by the battery of their cannon; or they might have undermined and blown them up. but the huge mound of mud had nothing susceptible of fire or any other force; the missiles from the artillery were discharged but to be buried in the dull mass; and all the means of demolition were baffled. the most melancholy of the exemplifications of the effect of ignorance, as constituting an incapacity for receiving religious instruction, have been presented to those who have visited persons thus devoid of knowledge in sickness and the approach to death. supposing them to manifest alarm and solicitude, it is deplorable to see how powerless their understandings are, for any distinct conception of what, or why, it is that they fear, or regret, or desire. the objects of their apprehension come round them as vague forms of darkness, instead of distinctly exhibited dangers and foes, which they might steadily contemplate, and think how to escape or encounter. and how little does the benevolent instructor find it possible for him to do, when he applies his mind to the painful task of reducing this gloomy confused vision to the plain defined truth of their unhappy situation, set in order before their eyes. he deems it necessary to speak of the most elementary principles--the perfect holiness and justice of god--the corresponding holiness and the all-comprehending extent of his law, appointed to his creatures--the absolute duty of conformity to it in every act, word, and thought--the necessary condemnation consequent on failure--the dreadful evil, therefore, of sin, both in its principle and consequences. god--perfect holiness--justice--law--universal conformity--sin--condemnation! alas! the hapless auditor has no such sense of the force of terms, and no such analogical ideas, as to furnish the medium for conveying these representations to his understanding. he never had, at any time; and now there may be in his mind all the additional confusion, and incapacity of fixed attention, arising from pain, debility, and sleeplessness. all this therefore passes before him with a tenebrious glimmer; like lightning faintly penetrating to a man behind a thick black curtain. the instructor attempts a personal application, endeavoring to give the disturbed conscience a rational direction, and a distinct cognizance. but he finds, as he might expect to find, that a conscience without knowledge has never taken but a very small portion of the man's habits of life under its jurisdiction; and that it is a most hopeless thing to attempt to send it back reinforced, to reclaim and conquer, through all the past, the whole extent of its rightful but never assumed dominion. so feeble and confined in the function of judgment through which it must see and act, it is especially incapable of admitting the monitor's estimate of the measure of guilt involved in omission, and in an irreligious state of the mind, as an exceedingly grave addition to the account of criminal action. the man is totally and honestly unable to conceive of the substantial guilt of anything of which he can ask, what injury it has done to anybody. this single point--whether positive harm has been done to any one--comprehends the whole essence and sum of the conscious accountableness of very ignorant people. material wrong, _very_ material wrong, to their fellow mortals, they have a conscience that they should not do; a conscience, however, which they would deem it hard to be obliged to maintain entire even to this confined extent; and which therefore admits some compromise and gives some license, with respect especially to any kind of wrong which has the extenuation, as they deem it, of being commonly practised in their class; and against which there is a sort of understanding that each one must take the best care he can of himself. at this confine, so undecidedly marked, of practical, tangible wrong, these very ignorant persons lose the sense of obligation, and feel absolved from any further jurisdiction. so coarse and narrow a conscience as to what they _do_, is not likely to be refined and extended into a cognizance of what they _are_. as for a duty absolute in the nature of things, or as owing to themselves, in respect to their own nature, or as imposed by the almighty--_that their minds should be in a certain prescribed state_--there does really require a perfectly new manner of the action of intellect to enable them to apprehend its existence. and this habitual insensibility to any jurisdiction over their internal state, now meets, in its consequences, the supposed instructor. in consideration of the vast importance of this part of a rational creature's accountableness, and partly, too, from a desire to avoid the invidiousness of appearing as a judicial censor of the sick man's practical conduct, he insists in an especial manner on this subject of the state within, endeavoring to expose that dark world by the light of religion to the sick man's conscience. but to give in an hour the _understanding_ which it requires the discipline of many years to render competent! how vain the attempt! the man's sense of guilt fixes almost exclusively on something that has been improper in his practical courses. he professes to acknowledge the evil of this; and perhaps with a certain stress of expression; intended, by an apparent respondence to the serious emphasis which the monitor is laying on another part of the accountableness and guilt, to take him off from thus endeavoring, as it appears to the ignorant sufferer, to make him more of a sinner than there is any reason, so little can he conceive that it should much signify what his thoughts, tempers, affections, motives, and so forth, may have been. by continuing to press the subject, the instructor may find himself in danger of being regarded as having taken upon him the unkind office of inquisitor and accuser in his own name, and of his own will and authority. when inculcating the necessity of repentance, he will perceive the indistinctness of apprehension of the difference between the horror of sin merely from dread of impending consequences, and an antipathy to its essential nature. and even if this distinction, which admits of easy forms of exemplification, should thus be rendered in a degree intelligible, the man cannot make the application. the instructor observes, as one of the most striking results of a want of disciplined mental exercise, an utter inability for self-inspection. there is before his eyes, looking at him, but a stranger to himself, a man on whose mind no other mind, except one, can shed a light of self-manifestation, to save him from the most fatal mistakes. if the monitor would turn, (rather from an impulse to relieve the gloom of the scene, than from anything he sees of a hopeful approach toward a right apprehension of the austerer truths of religion,) if he would turn his efforts, to the effect of directing on this dark spirit the benign rays of the christian redemption, what is he to do for terms,--yes, for very terms? mediator, sacrifice, atonement, satisfaction, faith; even the expression, believing in christ; merit of the death of christ, acquittal, acceptance, justification;--he knows, or soon will find, that he is talking the language of an occult science. and he is forced down to such expedients of grovelling paraphrase, and humiliating analogy, that he becomes conscious that his method of endeavoring to make a divine subject comprehensible, is to divest it of its dignity, and reduce it, in order that it may not confound, to the rank of things which have not majesty enough to impress with awe. and after this has been done, to the utmost of his ability, and to the unavoidable weariness of his suffering auditor, he is distressed to think of the proportion between the insignificance of any ideas which this man's mind now possesses of the economy of redemption, and the magnitude of the interest in which he stands dependent on it. a symptom or assurance which should impart to the sick man a confidence of his recovery, would appear to him a far greater good than all he can comprehend as offered to him from the physician of the soul. some crude sentiment, as that he "hopes jesus christ will stand his friend;" that it was very good of the saviour to think of us; that he wishes he knew what to do to get his help; that jesus christ has done him good in other things, and he hopes he will now again at the last; [footnote: such an expression as this would hardly have occurred but from recollection of fact, in the instance of an aged farmer, (the owner of the farm,) in his last illness. in the way of reassuring his somewhat doubtful hope that christ would not fail him when now had recourse to, at his extreme need, he said, (to the writer,) "jesus christ has sent me a deal of good crops."]--such expressions will afford little to alleviate the gloomy feelings, with which the serious visitor descends from the chamber in which, perhaps, he may hear, a few days after, that the man he conversed with lies a dead body. but such benevolent visitors have to tell of still more melancholy exemplifications of the effects of ignorance in the close of life. they have seen the neglect of early cultivation, and the subsequent estrangement from all knowledge and thinking, except about business and folly, result in such a stupefaction of mind, that irreligious and immoral persons, expecting no more than a few days of life, and not in a state of physical lethargy, were absolutely incapable of being alarmed at the near approach of death. they might not deny, nor in the infidel sense disbelieve, what was said to them of the awfulness of that event and its consequences; but they had actually never thought enough of death to have any solemn associations with the idea. and their faculties were become so rigidly shrunk up, that they could not now admit them; no, not while the portentous spectre was unveiling his visage to them, in near and still nearer approach; not when the element of another world was beginning to penetrate through the rents of their mortal tabernacle. it appeared that literally their thoughts _could not_ go out from what they had been through life immersed in, to contemplate, with any realizing feeling, a grand change of being, expected so soon to come on them. they could not go to the fearful brink to look off. it was a stupor of the soul not to be awaked but by the actual plunge into the realities of eternity. in such a case the instinctive repugnance to death might be visible and acknowledged. but the feeling was, if it must be so, there is no help for it; and as to what may come after, we must take our chance. in this temper and manner, we recollect a sick man, of this untaught class, answering the inquiry how he felt himself, "getting worse; i suppose i shall make a die of it." and some pious neighbors, earnestly exhorting him to solemn concern and preparation, could not make him understand, we repeat with emphasis, _understand_ why there was occasion for any extraordinary disturbance of mind. yet this man was not inferior to those around him in sense for the common business of life. after a tedious length of suffering, and when death is plainly inevitable, it is not very uncommon for persons under this infatuation to express a wish for its arrival, simply as a deliverance from what they are enduring, without disturbing themselves with a thought of what may follow. "i know it will please god soon to release me," was the expression to his religious medical attendant, of such an ignorant and insensible mortal, within an hour of his death, which was evidently and directly brought on by his vices. and he uttered it without a word, or the smallest indicated emotion, of penitence or solicitude; though he had passed his life in a neighborhood abounding with the public means of religious instruction and warning. when earnest, persisting, and seriously menacing admonitions, of pious visitors or friends, almost literally compel such unhappy persons to some precise recognition of the subject, their answers will often be faithfully representative, and a consistent completion, of their course through mental darkness, from childhood to the mortal hour. we recollect the instance of a wicked old man, who, within that very hour, replied to the urgent admonitions by which a religious neighbor felt it a painful duty to make a last effort to alarm him, "what! do you believe that god can think of damning me because i may have been as bad as other folk? i am sure he will do no such thing: he is far too good for that." we cannot close this detailed illustration of so gloomy a subject, without again adverting to a phenomenon as admirable as, unhappily, it is rare; and for which the observers who cannot endure mystery in religion, or religion itself, may go, if they choose, round the whole circle of their philosophy, and begin again, to find any adequate cause, other than the most immediate agency of the almighty spirit. here and there an instance occurs, to the delight of the christian philanthropist, of a person brought up in utter ignorance and barbarian rudeness, and so continuing till late in life; and then at last, after such a length of time and habit has completed its petrifying effect, suddenly seized upon by a mysterious power, and taken, with an alarming and irresistible force, out of the dark hold in which the spirit has lain imprisoned and torpid, into the sphere of thought and feeling. occasion is taken this once more of adverting to such facts, not so much for the purpose of magnifying the nature, as of simply exhibiting the effect, of an influence that can breathe with such power on the obtuse intellectual faculties; which it appears, in the most signal of these instances, almost to create anew. it is exceedingly striking to observe how the contracted, rigid soul seems to soften, and grow warm, and expand, and quiver with life. with the new energy infused, it painfully struggles to work itself into freedom, from the wretched contortion in which it has so long been fixed as by the impressed spell of some infernal magic. it is seen filled with a distressed and indignant emotion at its own ignorance; actuated with a restless earnestness to be informed; acquiring an unwonted pliancy of its faculties to thought; attaining a perception, combined of intelligence and moral sensibility, to which numerous things are becoming discernible and affecting, that were as non-existent before. it is not in the very extreme strength of their import that we employ such terms of description; the malice of irreligion may easily parody them into poetical excess; but we have known instances in which the change, the intellectual change, has been so conspicuous, within a brief space of time, that even an infidel observer must have forfeited all claim to be esteemed a man of sense, if he would not acknowledge,--this that you call divine grace, whatever it may really be, is the strangest awakener of faculties after all. and to a devout man, it is a spectacle of most enchanting beauty, thus to see the immortal plant, which has been under a malignant blast while sixty or seventy years have passed over it, coming out at length in the bloom of life. we cannot hesitate to draw the inference, that if religion is so auspicious to the intellectual faculties, the cultivation and exercise of those faculties must be of great advantage to religion. these observations on ignorance, considered as an incapacitation for receiving religious instruction, are pointed chiefly at that portion of the people, unhappily the largest, who are little disposed to attend to that kind of instruction. but we should notice its prejudicial effect on those of them to whom religion has become a matter of serious and inquisitive concern. the preceding assertions of the efficacy of a strong religious interest to excite and enlarge the intellectual faculty will not be contradicted by observing, nevertheless, that in a dark and crude state of that facility those well-disposed persons, especially if of a warm temperament withal, are unfortunately liable to receive delusive impressions and absurd notions, blended with religious doctrine and sentiment. it would be no less than plain miracle or inspiration, a more entire and specific superseding of ordinary laws than that which we have just been denominating "an immediate agency of the almighty spirit," if a mind left uncultivated all up through the earlier age, and perhaps far on in life, should not come to its new employment on a most important subject with a sadly defective capacity for judgment and discrimination. the situation reminds us of an old story of a tribe of indians denominated "moon-eyed," who, not being able to look at things by the light of the sun, were reduced to look at them under the glimmering of the moon, by which light it is an inevitable circumstance of human vision to receive the images of things in perverted and deceptive forms. even in such an extremely rare instance as that above described, an example of the superlative degree of the animating and invigorating influence of religion on the uncultivated faculties, there would be visible some of the unfortunate consequences of the inveterate rudeness; a tendency, perhaps, to magnify some one thing beyond its proportionate importance to adopt hasty conclusions; to entertain some questionable or erroneous principle because it appears to solve a difficulty, or perhaps falls in with an old prepossession; to make too much account of variable and transitory feelings; or to carry zeal beyond the limits of discretion. in examples of a lower order of the correction or reversal of the effects of ignorance by the influence of religion, the remains will be still more palpable. so that, while it is an unquestionable and gratifying fact, that among the uneducated subjects of genuine religion many are remarkably improved in the power and exercise of their reason; and while we may assume that _some_ share of this improvement reaches to all who are really under this most beneficent influence in the creation, [footnote: _really_ under this influence, we repeat, pointedly; for we justly put all others out of the account. it is nothing (as against this asserted influence on the intelligent faculty) that great numbers who may contribute to swell a public bustle about religion; who may run together at the call of whim, imposture, or insanity, assuming that name; who may acquire, instead of any other folly, a turn for talking, disputing, or ranting, about that subject: it is nothing, in short, that _any_ who are not in real, conscientious seriousness the disciples of religion, can be shown to be no better for it, in point of improved understanding.] it still is to be acknowledged of too many, who are in a measure, we may candidly believe, under the genuine efficacy of religion, that they have attained, through its influence, but so inferior a proportion of the improvement of intellect, that they can be well pleased with the great deal of absurdity of religious notions and language. but while we confess and regret that it is so, we should not overlook the causes and excuses that may be found for it, in unfortunate super-addition to their lack of education; partly in the natural turn of the mind, partly in extraneous circumstances. many whose attention is in honest earnestness drawn to religion, are endowed by nature with so scanty an allotment of the thinking power, strictly so denominated, that it would have required high cultivation to raise them to the level of moderate understanding. there are some who appear to have constitutionally an invincible tendency to an uncouth, fantastic mode of forming their notions. it is in the nature of others, that whatever cultivation they might have received, it would still have been by their passions, rather than, in any due proportion, by their reason, that an important concern would have taken and retained hold of them. it may have happened to not a few, that circumstances unfavorable to the understanding were connected with the causes or occasions of their first effectual religious impressions. some quaint cast in the exposition of the christian faith, not essentially vitiating, but very much distorting and cramping it, or some peculiarity or narrow-mindedness of the teachers, may have conveyed their effect, to enter, as it were, at the door at the same moment that it was opened by the force of a solemn conviction, and to be retained and cherished ever after on the strength of this association. this may have tended to give an obliquity to the disciple's understanding, or to arrest and dwarf its growth; to fix it in prejudices instead of training it to judgments; or to dispense with its exercise by merging it in a kind of quietism; so that the proper tendency of religion to excite intellectual activity was partly overruled and frustrated. it is most unfortunate that thus there may be, from things casually or constitutionally associated with a man's piety, an influence operating to disable his understanding; as if there had been mixed with the incense of a devout service in the temple, a soporific ingredient which had the effect of closing the worshipper's eyes in slumber. now suppose all these worthy persons, with so many things of a special kind against them, to be also under the one great calamity of a neglected education, and is it any wonder that they can admit religious truths in shapes very strange and faintly enlightened; that they have an uncertain and capricious test of what is genuine, and not much vigilance to challenge plausible semblances; that they should be caught by some fanciful exhibition of a truth which would be of too intellectual a substance as presented in its pure simplicity; and should be ready to receive with approbation not a little of what is a heavy disgrace to the name of religious doctrine and ministration? where is the wonder that crudeness, incoherence, and inconsistency of notions, should not disappoint and offend minds that have not, ten times since they came into the world, been compelled to form two ideas with precision, and then compare them discriminately or combine them strictly, on any subject beyond the narrow scope of their ordinary pursuits? where is the wonder, if many such persons take noise and fustian for a glowing zeal and a lofty elevation; if they mistake a wheedling cant for affectionate solicitude; if they defer to pompous egotism and dogmatical assertion, when it is so convenient a foundation for all their other faith to believe their teacher is an oracle? no marvel if they are delighted with whimsical conceits as strokes of discovery and surprise, and yet at the same time are pleased with common-place, and endless repetition, as an exemption from mental effort; and if they are gratified by vulgarity of diction and illustration, as bringing religion to the level where they are at home? nay, if an artful pretender, or half-lunatic visionary, or some poor set of dupes of their own inflated self-importance, should give out that they are come into the world for the manifestation, at last, of true christianity, which the divine revelation has failed, till their advent, to explain to any of the numberless devout and sagacious examiners of it,--what is there in the minds of the most ignorant class of persons desirous to secure the benefits of religion, that can be securely relied on to certify them, that they shall not forego the greatest blessing ever offered to them by setting at naught these pretensions? it is grievous to think there should be an active extensive currency of a language conveying crudities, extravagances, arrogant dictates of ignorance, pompous nothings, vulgarities, catches of idle fantasy, and impertinences of the speaker's vanity, as religious instruction to assemblages of ignorant people. but then for the means of depreciating that currency, so as to drive it at last out of circulation? the thing to be wished is, that it were possible to put some strong coercion on the _minds_ (we deprecate all other restraint) of the teachers; a compulsion to feel the necessity of information, sound sense, disciplined thinking, the correct use of words, and an honest, careful purpose to make the people wiser. there are signs of amendment, certainly; but while the passion of human beings for notoriety lasts, (which will be yet some time,) there will not fail to be men, in any number required, ready to exhibit in religion, in any manner in which the people are willing to be pleased with them. let us, then, try the inverted order, and endeavor to secure that those who assemble to be taught, shall already have learnt so much, _by other means_, that no professed teacher shall feel at liberty to treat them as an unknowing herd. but by what other means, except the discipline of the best education possible to be given to them, and the subsequent voluntary self-improvement to which it may be hoped that such an education would often lead? we cannot dismiss this topic, of the unhappy effect of extreme ignorance on persons religiously disposed, in rendering them both liable and inclined to receive their ideas of the highest subject in a disorderly, perverted, and debased form, mixed largely with other men's folly and their own, without noticing with pleasure an additional testimony to the connection between genuine religion and intelligence. it arises from the fact, apparent to any discriminating observer, that as a _general_ rule the most truly pious of the illiterate disciples of religion, those who have the most of its devotional feeling and its humility, do certainly manifest more of the operation of judgment in their religion than is evinced by those of less solemn and devout sentiment. the former will unquestionably be found, when on the same level as to the measure of natural faculty and the want of previous cultivation, to show more discernment, to be less captivated by noise and extravagance, and more intent on obtaining a clear comprehension of that faith, which they feel it is but a reasonable obligation that they should endeavor to understand, if they are to repose on it their most important hopes. section vi. thus it has been attempted, we fear with too much prolixity and repetition, to describe the evils attendant on a neglected state of the minds of the people. the representation does not comprehend all those even of magnitude and prominence; but it displays that portion of them which is the most serious and calamitous, as being the effect which the people's ignorance has on their moral and religious interests. and we think no one who has attentively surveyed the state and character of the lower orders of the community, in this country, will impute exaggeration to the picture. it is rather to be feared that the reality is of still darker shade; and that a more strikingly gloomy exhibition might be formed, by such a process as the following:--that a certain number of the most observant of the philanthropic persons, who have had most intercourse with the classes in question, for the purposes of instruction, charitable aid, or perhaps of furnishing employment, should relate the most characteristic circumstances and anecdotes within their own experience, illustrative of this mental and moral condition; and that these should be arranged, without any comment, under the respective heads of the preceding sketch, or of a more comprehensive enumeration. each of them might repeat, in so many words, the most notable things he has heard uttered as disclosing the notions entertained of the deity, or any part of religion; or those which have been formed of the ground and extent of duty and accountableness; or the imaginations respecting the termination of life, and a future retribution. they might relate the judgments they have heard pronounced on characters and particular modes of conduct; on important events in the world; on anything, in short, which may afford a test of the quality and compass of uncultivated thought. let the recital include both the expressions of individual conception, and those of the most current maxims and common-places; and let them be the sayings of persons in health, and of those languishing and dying. then let there be produced a numerous assortment of characteristic samples of practical conduct; conduct not simply proceeding, in a general way, from wrong disposition, but bearing the special marks of the cast and direction which that disposition takes through extreme ignorance: samples of action that is wrong because the actor cannot think right, or does not think at all. the assemblage of things thus recounted, when the actual circumstances were also added of the wretchedness corresponding and inseparable, would constitute such an exhibition of fact, as any description of those evils in general terms would incur the charge of rhetorical excesses in attempting to rival. we can well imagine that some of these persons, of large experience, may have accompanied us through the foregoing series of illustrations, with a feeling that they could have displayed the subject with a far more striking prominence. and now again the mortifying reflection comes on us, that all this is the description of too probably the major part of the people of our own nation. of this nation, the theme of so many lofty strains of panegyric; of this nation, stretching forth its powers in ambitious enterprise, with infinite pride and cost, to all parts of the globe;--just as if a family were seen eagerly intent on making some new appropriation, or going out to maintain some competition or feud with its neighbors, or mixing perhaps in the strife of athletic games, or drunken frays, at the very time that several of its members are lying dead in the house. so that the fame of the nation resounded, and its power made itself felt, in every clime, it was not worth a consideration that a vast proportion of its people were systematically consigned, through ignorance and the irreligion and depravity inseparable from it, to a wretchedness on which that fame was the bitterest satire. it is matter for never-ending amazement, that during one generation after another, the presiding wisdom in this chief of christian and protestant states, should have thrown out the living strength of that state into almost every mode of agency under heaven, rather than that of promoting the state itself to the condition of a happy community of cultivated beings. what stupendous infatuation, what disastrous ascendency of the power of darkness, that this energy should have been sent forth to pervade all parts of the world in quest of objects, to inspirit and accomplish innumerable projects, political and military, and to lavish itself, even to exhaustion and fainting at its vital source, on every alien interest; while here at home, so large a part of the social body was in a moral and intellectual sense dying and putrefying over the land. and it was thus perishing for want of the vivifying principle of knowledge, which one-fifth part of this mighty amount of exertion would have been sufficient to diffuse into every corner and cottage in the island. within its circuit, a countless multitude were seen passing away their mortal existence little better, in any view, than mere sentient shapes of matter, and by their depravity immeasurably worse; and yet this hideous fact had not the weight of the very dust of the balance, in the deliberation whether a grand exertion of the national vigor and resource could have any object so worthy, (with god for the judge,) as some scheme of foreign aggrandizement, some interference in remote quarrels, an avengement by anticipation of wrongs pretended to be foreseen, or the obstinate prosecution of some fatal career, begun in the very levity of pride, by a decision in which some perverse individual or party in ascendency had the influence to obtain a corrupt, deluded, or forced concurrence. the national _honor_, perhaps, would be alleged, in a certain matter of punctilio, for the necessity of undertakings of incalculable consumption, by men who could see no national _disgrace_ in the circumstance that several millions of the persons composing the nation could not read the ten commandments. or the national _safety_ has been pleaded to a similar purpose, with a rant or a gravity of patriotic phrases, upon the appearance of some slight threatening symptoms; and the wise men so pleading, would have scouted as the very madness of fanaticism any dissuasion that should have advised,--"do you, instead, apply your best efforts, and the nation's means, to raise the barbarous population from their ignorance and debasement, and you really may venture some little trust in divine providence for the nation's safety meanwhile." if a contemplative and religious man, looking back through little more than a century, were enabled to take, with an adequate comprehension of intellect, the sum and value of so much of the astonishing course of the national exertions of this country as the supreme judge has put to the criminal account of pride and ambition; and if he could then place in contrast to the transactions on which that mighty amount has been expended, a sober estimate of what so much exerted vigor _might_ have accomplished for the intellectual and moral exaltation of the people, it could not be without an emotion of horror that he would say, who is to be accountable, who _has been_ accountable, for this difference? he would no longer wonder at any plagues and judgments which may have been inflicted on such a state. and he would solemnly adjure all those, especially, who profess in a peculiar manner to feel the power of the christian religion, to beware how they implicate themselves, by avowed or even implied approbation, in what must be a matter of fearful account before the highest tribunal. if some such persons, of great merit and influence, honored performers of valuable public services in certain departments, have habitually given, in a public capacity, this approbation, he would urge it on their consciences, in the evening of life, to consider whether, in the prospect of that tribunal, they have not one duty yet to perform,--to throw off from their minds the servility to party associations, to estimate as christians, about to retire from the scene, the actual effects on this nation of a policy which might have been nearly the same if christianity had been extinct; and then to record a solemn, recanting, final protest against a system to which they have concurred in the profane policy of degrading that religion itself into a party. any reference made to such a prospect implies, that there is attributed to those who can feel its seriousness a state of mind perfectly unknown to the generality of what are called public men. for it is notorious that, to the mere working politician, there is nothing on earth that sounds so idly or so ludicrously as a reference to a judgment elsewhere and hereafter, to which the policy and transactions of statesmen are to be carried. if the divine jurisdiction would yield to contract its comprehension, and retire from all the ground over which a practical infidelity heedlessly disregards or deliberately rejects it, how large a province it would leave free! if it be assumed that the province of national affairs _is_ so left free, on the pretence that they _cannot_ be transacted in faithful conformity to the christian standard, that plea is reserved to be tried in the great account, when the responsibility for them shall be charged. for assuredly there will be persons found, to be summoned forth as accountable for that conduct of states which we are contemplating. such a moral agency could not throw off its responsibility into the air, to be dissipated and lost, like the black smoke of forges or volcanoes. this one grand thing (the improvement of the people) left undone, while a thousand arduous things have been done or strenuously endeavored, cannot be less than an awful charge _somewhere_. and where?--but on all who have voluntarily concurred and co-operated in systems and schemes, which could deliberately put _such_ a thing last? last! nay, not even that; for they have, till recently, as we have seen, thrown it almost wholly out of consideration. a long succession of men invested with ample power are gone to this audit. how many of those who come after them will choose to proceed on the same principles, and meet the same award? we were supposing a thoughtful man to draw out to his view a parallel and contrast, exhibiting, on the one side, the series of objects on which, during several ages, an enormous exertion of the national energy has been directed; and on the other, those improvements of the people which might have been effected by so much of that exertion as he deems to have been worse than wasted. in this process, he might often be inclined to single out particular parts in the actual series, to be put in special contrast over against the possibilities on the opposite line. for example; there may occur to his view some inconsiderable island, the haunt of fatal diseases, and rendered productive by means involving the most flagrant iniquity; an iniquity which it avenges by opening a premature grave for many of his countrymen, and by being a moral corrupter of the rest. such an infested spot, nevertheless, may have been one of the most material objects of a widely destructive war, which has in effect sunk incalculable treasure in the sea, and in the sands, ditches, and fields of plague-infested shores; with a dreadful sacrifice of blood, life, and all the best moral feelings and habits. its possession, perhaps, was the chief prize and triumph of all the grand exertion, the equivalent for all the cost, misery, and crime. or there may occur to him the name of some fortress, in a less remote region, where the christian nations seem to have vied with one another which of them should deposit the greatest number of victims, securely kept in the charge of death, to rise and testify for them, at the last day, how much they have been governed by the peaceful spirit of their professed religion. he reads that his countrymen, conjoined with others, have battled round this fortress, wasting the vicinity, but richly manuring the soil with blood. they have co-operated in hurling upon the abodes of thousands of inhabitants within its walls, a thunder and lightning incomparably more destructive than those of nature; and have put fire and earthquake under the fortifications; shouting, "to make the welkin ring," at sight of the consequent ruin and chasm, which have opened an entrance for hostile rage, or compelled an immediate submission, if, indeed, it would then be accepted to disappoint that rage of its horrible consummation. they have taken the place,--and they have surrendered it. the next year perhaps they have taken it again; to be again at last given up, on compulsion or in compromise, to the very same party to which it had belonged previously to all this destructive commotion. the operations in this local and very narrow portion of the grand affray of monarchies, he may calculate to have cost his country as much as the amount earned by the toils of half the life of all the inhabitants of one of its populous towns; setting aside from his view the more portentous part of the account,--the carnage, the crimes, and the devastation perpetrated on the foreign tract, the place of abode of people who had little interest in the contest, and no power to prevent it. and why was all this? he may not be able to divest himself of the principles that should rule the judgment of a moralist and a christian, in order to think like a statesman; and therefore may find no better reason than that, when despots would quarrel, britain must fancy itself called upon to take the occasion to prove itself a great power, by bearing a high hand amidst their rivalries; or must seize the opportunity of revenging some trivial offence of one of them; though this should be at the expense of having the scene at home chequered between children learning little more than how to curse, and old persons dying without knowing how to put words together to pray. the question may have been, in one part of the world or another, which of two wicked individuals of the same family, competitors for sovereign authority, should be actually invested with it, they being equal in the qualifications and dispositions to make the worst use of it. and the decision of such a question was worthy that england should expend what remained of her depressed strength from previous exertions of it in some equally meritorious cause. or the supposed reviewer of our national history may find, somewhere in his retrospect, that a certain brook or swamp in a wilderness, or a stripe of waste, or the settlement of boundaries in respect to some insignificant traffic, was difficult of adjustment between jealous, irritated, and mutually incursive neighbors; and therefore, national honor and interest equally required that war should be lighted up by land and sea, through several quarters of the globe. or a dissension may have arisen upon the matter of some petty tax on an article of commerce: an absolute will had been rashly signified on the claim; pride had committed itself, and was peremptory for persisting; and the resolution was to be prosecuted through a wide tempest of destruction, protracted perhaps many years; and only ending in the forced abandonment by the leading power concerned, of infinitely more than war had been made in the determination not to forego; and after an absolutely fathomless amount of every kind of cost, financial and moral, in this progress to final frustration.--but there would be no end of recounting facts of this order. now the comparative estimator has to set against the extended rank of such enormities the forms of imagined good, which might, during the ages of this retrospect, have been realized by an incomparably less exhausting series of exertion, an exertion, indeed, continually renovating its own resources. imagined good, we said;--alas! the evil stands in long and awful display on the ground of history; the hypothetical good presents itself as a dream; with this circumstance only of difference from a dream, that there is resting on the conscience of beings somewhere still existing, a fearful accountableness for its not having been a reality. for such an _island_, as we have supposed our comparer to read of, he can look, in imagination, on a space of proportional extent in any part of his native country, taking a district as a detached section of a general national picture. and he can figure to himself the result, resplendent upon this tract, of so much energy, there beneficently expended, as that island had cost: an energy, we mean _equivalent in measure_, while put forth in the infinitely different _mode_ of an exertion, by all appropriate means, to improve the reason, manners, morals, and with them the physical condition of the people. what a prevalence of intelligence, what a delightful civility of deportment, what repression of the more gross and obtrusive forms of vice, what domestic decorum, attentive education of the children, appropriateness of manner, and readiness of apprehension in attendance on public offices of religion, sense and good order in assemblages for the assertion and exercise of civil and political rights! all this he can imagine as the possible result. we were supposing his attention fixed a while on the recorded operations against some strongly fortified place, in a region marked through every part with the traces and memorials of the often-renewed conflicts of the christian states. and we suppose him to make a collective estimate of all kinds of human ability exerted around and against that particular devoted place; an estimate which divides this off as a portion of the whole immense quantity of exertion, expended by his country in all that region in the campaigns of a war, or of a century's wars. he may then again endeavor, by a rule of equivalence, to conceive the same amount of exertion in quite another way; to imagine human forces equal in _quantity_ to all that putting forth of strength, physical, mental, and financial, for annoyance and destruction, expended instead, in the operation of effecting the utmost improvement which they _could_ effect, in the mental cultivation and the morals of the inhabitants of one large town in his own country. in figuring to himself the channels and instrumentality, through which this great stream of energy might have passed into this operation, on a detached spot of his country, he will soon have many specific means presented to his view: schools of the most perfect appointment, in every section and corner of the town; a system of friendly but cogent dealing with all the people of inferior condition, relatively to the necessity of their practical accordance to the plans of education;[footnote: it is here confidently presumed, that any man who looks, in a right state of his senses, at the manner in which the children are still brought up, in many parts of the land, will hear with contempt any hypocritical protest against so much interference with the discretion, the liberty of parents;--the discretion, the liberty, forsooth, of bringing up their children a nuisance on the face of the earth.] an exceedingly copious supply, for individual possession, of the best books of elementary knowledge; accompanied, as we need not say, by the sacred volume; a number of assortments of useful and pleasing books for circulation, established under strict order, and with appointments of honorary and other rewards to those who gave evidence of having made the best use of them; a number of places of resort where various branches of the most generally useful and attainable knowledge and arts should be explained and applied, by every expedient of familiar, practical, and entertaining illustration, admitting a degree of co-operation by those who attended to see and hear; and an abundance of commodious places for religious instruction on the sabbath, where there should be wise and zealous men to impart it. our speculator has a right to suppose a high degree of these qualifications in his public teachers of religion, when he is to imagine a parallel in this department to the skill and ardor displayed in the supposed military operations. he may add as subsidiary to such an apparatus, everything of magistracy and municipal regulation; a police, vigilant and peremptory against every cognizable neglect and transgression of good order; a resolute breaking up of all haunts and rendezvous of intemperance, dishonesty and other vice; and the best devised and administered institutions for correcting and reclaiming those whom education had failed to preserve from such depravity; and besides all this, there would be a great variety of undefinable and optional activity of benevolent and intelligent men of local influence. under so auspicious a combination of discipline, he will not indeed fancy, in his transient vision, that he beholds athens revived, with its bright intelligence all converted to minister to morality, religion, and happiness; but he will, in sober consistency, we think, with what is known of the relation of cause and effect, imagine a place far surpassing any actual town or city on earth. and let it be distinctly kept in view, that to reduce the ideal exhibition to reality, he is not dreaming of means and resources out of all human reach, of preternatural powers, discovered gold-mines, grand feats of genius. he is just supposing to have been expended, on the population of the town, a measure of exertion and means equal, (as far as agencies in so different a form and direction can be brought to any rule of comparative estimate) to what has been expended by his country in investing, battering, undermining, burning, taking, and perhaps retaking, one particular foreign town, in one or several campaigns. if he should perchance be sarcastically questioned, how he can allow himself in so strange a conceit as that of supposing such a quantity of forces concentrated to act in one exclusive spot, while the rest of the country remained under the old course of things; or in such an absurdity as that of fancying that _any_ quantity of those forces could effectually raise one local section of the people eminently aloft, while continuing surrounded and unavoidably in constant intercourse with the general mass, remaining still sunk in degradation--he has to reply, that he is fancying no such thing. for while he is thus converting, in imagination, the military exertions against one foreign town, into intellectual and moral operations on one town at home, why may he not, in similar imagination, make a whole country correspond to a whole country? he may conceive the incalculable amount of exertion made by his country, in martial operations over all that wide foreign territory of which he has selected a particular spot, to have been, on the contrary, expended in the supposed beneficent process on the great scale of this whole nation. then would the hypothetical improvement in the one particular town, so far from being a strange insulated phenomenon, absurd to be conceived as existing in exception and total contrast to the general state of the people, be but a specimen of that state. he may proceed along the series of such confronted spectacles as far as bitter mortification will let him. but he will soon be sick of this process of comparison. and how sick will he thenceforward be, to perpetual loathing, of the vain raptures with which an immortal and anti-christian patriotism can review a long history of what it will call national glory, acquired by national energy ambitiously consuming itself in a continual succession and unlimited extent of extraneous operations, of that kind which has been the grand curse of the human race ever since the time of cain; while the one thing needful of national welfare, the very _summum bonum_ of a state, has been regarded with contemptuous indifference. these observations are not made on an assumption, that england could in all cases have kept clear of implication in foreign interests, and remote and sanguinary contests. but they are made on the assumption of what is admitted and deplored by every thoughtful religious man, whose understanding and moral sense are not wretchedly prostrated in homage to a prevailing system, and chained down by a superstition that dares not question the wisdom and probity of high national authorities and counsels. what is so admitted and deplored by the true and christian patriots is, that this nation has gone to an awfully criminal extent beyond the line of necessity; that it has been extremely prompt to find or make occasions for appearing again, and still again, in array for the old work of waste and death; and that the advantage possessed by the preponderating classes in this protestant country, for being instructed (if they had cared for such instruction) to look at these transactions in the light of religion, has reflected a peculiar aggravation on the guilt of a policy persevered in from age to age, in disregard of the laws of christianity, and the warning of accountableness to the sovereign judge. these observations assume, also, that there _cannot_ be such a thing as a nation so doomed to a necessity and duty of expending its vigor and means in foreign enterprise, as to be habitually absolved from the duty of raising its people from brutish ignorance. _this_ concern is a duty at all events and to an entire certainty; is a duty imperative and absolute; and any pretended necessity for such a direction of the national exertion as would be, through a long succession of time, incompatible with a paramount attention to this, would be a virtual denial of the superintendence of providence. it would be the same thing as to assert of an individual, that his duties of other kinds are so many and great, as to render it impossible for him to give a competent attention to his highest interests, and that therefore he stands exempted from the obligations of religion. such as we have described has been, for ages, the degraded state of the multitude. and such has been the indifference to it, manifested by the superior, the refined, the ascendant portion of the community; who, generally speaking, could see these sharers with them of the dishonored human nature, in endless numbers around them, in the city and the field, without its ever flashing on conscience that on them was lying a solemn responsibility, destined to press one day with all its weight, for that ill arrangement of the social order which abandoned these beings to an exclusion from the sphere of rational existence. it never occurred to many of them as a question of the smallest moment, in what manner the mind might be living in all these bodies, if only it were there in competence to make them efficient as machines and implements. contented to be gazed at, to be envied, or to be regarded as too high even for envy, and to have the rough business of the world performed by these inhalers of the vital air, they perhaps thought, if they reflected at all on the subject, that the best and most privileged state of such creatures was to be in the least possible degree morally accountable: and that therefore it would be but doing them an injury to enlarge their knowledge. and might not the thought be suggested at some moment, (see how many things may be envied in their turns!) how happy _they_ should be, if, with the vast superiority of their advantages, they could still be just as little accountable? but if even in this way, of envy, they received an unwelcome admonition of their own high responsibility, not even then was it suggested to them, that they should ever be arraigned on a charge to which they would vainly wish to be permitted to plead, "were we our brothers' keepers?" and if an office designated in those terms had been named to them, as a part of their duty, by some unearthly voice of imperious accent, their thoughts might have traversed hither and thither, in various conjectures and protracted perplexity, before the objects of that office had been presented explicitly to their apprehension as no other than the reason, principles, consciences, and the whole moral condition of the vulgar mass. they would understand that its condition was, _in some way or other_, a concern lying at their door, but probably not in this.--we speak generally, and not universally. * * * * * but we would believe there are signs of a revolution beginning; a more important one, by its higher principle and its expansive impulse toward a wide and remote beneficence, than the ordinary events of that name. what have commonly been the matter and circumstance of revolutions? the last deciding blow in a deadly competition of equally selfish parties; actions and reactions of ambition and revenge; the fiat of a conqueror; a burst of blind fury, suddenly sweeping away an old order of things, but overwhelming to all attempts to substitute a better institution; plots, massacres, battles, dethronements, restorations: all actuated by a fermentation of the ordinary or the basest elements of humanity. how little of the sublime of moral agency has there been, with one or two partial exceptions, in these mighty commotions; how little wisdom or virtue, or reference to the supreme patron of national interests; how little nobleness or even distinctness of purpose, or consolidated advantage of success! but here is, as we trust, the approach of a revolution with different phenomena. it displays the nature of its principle and its ambition in a conviction, far more serious and extensive than heretofore, of the necessity of education to the mass of the population, with earnest discussions of its scope and methods by both speculative and practical men; in schemes, more speedily animated into operation than good designs were wont to be, for spreading useful knowledge over tracts of the dead waste where there was none; in exciting tens of thousands of young persons to a benevolent and patient activity in the instruction of the children of the poor; in an extended and extending system of means and exertions for the universal diffusion of the sacred scriptures; in multiplying endeavors, in all regular and all uncanonical ways, to render it next to impossible for the people to avoid hearing some sounds at least of the voice of religion; in the formation of useful local institutions too various to come under one denomination; in enterprises to attempt an opening of the vast prison-houses of human spirits in dark distant regions; in bringing to the test of principles many notions and practices which have stood on the authority of prejudice, custom, and prescription: and all this taking advantage of the new and powerful spirit which has come on the world to drive its affairs into commotion and acceleration; as bold adventurers have sometimes availed themselves of a formidable torrent to be conveyed whither the stream in its ordinary state would never have carried them; or as we have heard of heroic assailants seizing the moment of a tempest to break through the enemy's lines.--such are some of the insignia by which it stands distinguished out and far off from the rank of ordinary revolutions. we are not unaware that, with certain speculators on this same subject of meliorating the state and character of the people, some of the things here specified will be of small account, either as signs of a great change, or as means of promoting it. the widely spreading activity of a humble class of laborers, who seek no fame for their toils and sacrifices, is but a creeping process, almost invisible in the survey. the multiplied, voluntary, and extraordinary efforts to diffuse some religious knowledge and sentiment among the vulgar, appear to them, if not even of doubtful tendency, at least of such impotence for corrective operation, that any confidence founded on them is simple fanaticism; that the calculation is, to use a commercial term, mere moonshine. we remember when a publication of great note and influence flung contempt on the sanguine expectations entertained from the rapid circulation of bibles among the inferior population. at the hopeful mention of expedients of the religious kind especially, the class of speculators in question might perhaps be reminded of glendower's grave and believing talk of calling up spirits to perform his will; or (should they ever have happened to read the bible) of the people who seized, in honest credulous delight, the mockery of a proposal of pulling a city, to the last stone, into the river with ropes, as a prime stroke of generalship. when we see such expedients rated so low in the process for raising the populace from their degradation, we ask what means these speculators themselves would reckon on for the purpose. and it would appear that their scheme would calculate mainly on some supposed dispositions of a political and economical nature. let the people be put in possession of all their rights as citizens, and thus advanced in the scale of society. let all invidious distinctions which are artificial, arbitrary, and not inevitable, be abolished; together with all laws and regulations injuriously affecting their temporal well-being. give them thus a sense of being _something_ in the great social order, a direct palpable interest in the honor and prosperity of the community. there will then be a dignified sense of independence; the generous, liberalizing, ennobling sentiments of freedom; the self-respect and conscious responsibility of men in the full exercise of their rights; the manly disdain of what is base; the innate perception of what is worthy and honorable, developing itself spontaneously on the removal of the ungenial circumstances in the constitution of society, which have been as a long winter on the intellectual and moral nature of its inferior portions. all this will conduce to the practicability and efficacy of education. it will be an education _to fit them for an education_ to be introduced with the progress of that fitness; intellectual culture finding a felicitous adaptation of the soil. we may then adopt with some confidence a public system, or stimulate and assist all independent local exertions for the instruction of the people in the rudiments of literature and general knowledge; and religion too, if you will. but, to say nothing of the vain fancies of the virtues ready to disclose themselves in a corrupt mass, under the auspices of improved political institutions, it is unfortunate for any such speculation that what it insists on as the primary condition cannot as yet, but very imperfectly, be had. the higher and commanding portion of the community have, very naturally, the utmost aversion to concede to the people what are claimed as theoretically their rights. they have, indeed, latterly been constrained to make considerable concessions in name and semblance. but their great and various power will be strenuously exerted, for probably a long while yet, to render the acquisitions made by the people as nearly as possible profitless in their hands. and unhappily these predominant classes have to allege the mental and moral rudeness of the lower, in vindication of this determined policy of repression and frustration; thus turning the consequences of their own criminal neglect into a defence of their injustice. they will say, if the subordinate millions had grown up into a rational existence; if they had been rendered capable of thinking, judging, distinguishing, if they were in possession of a moderate share of useful information, and withal a strong sense of duty; then might this and the other privilege, or call it right, in the social constitution be yielded to them. but as long as they continue in their present mental grossness they are unfit for the possession, because unqualified for the exercise, of any such privileges as would take them from under our authoritative control. since they can and will, for the present, maintain this controlling power, to the extent of nearly invalidating any political advancement attained, or likely to be soon attained, by the lower grades, a speculation that should place on that advancement, as a pre-requisite, our hope of a great change in the mental condition of the people, would be, to adopt a humble figure, setting us to climb to an upper platform without a ladder, or rather telling us not to climb at all. and while this supposed pre-requisite will be refused, on the allegation that the uncultivated condition of the people renders them unfit for a liberal political arrangement, the parties so refusing will be little desirous to have the obstacle removed; foreseeing, as the inevitable consequence of a highly improved cultivation, a more resolute demand of the advantages withheld, a constantly augmenting force of popular opinion, and therefore a diminution of their own predominant power. they will deem it much more commodious for themselves, that the people should not be so enlightened and raised as to come into any such competition. and since they, with these dispositions, have the preponderance in what we denominate the state, we fear we are not to look with much hope to the state for a liberal and effective system of national education. * * * * * what then is to be done?--we earnestly wish it might please the sovereign ruler to do one more new thing in the earth, compelling the dominant powers in the nations to an order of institutions and administrations that _would_ apply the energy of the state to so noble a purpose. nor can we imagine any test of their merits so fair as the question whether, and in what degree, they do this; nor any test by which they may more naturally decline to have those merits tried. but since, to the shame of our nature, there is no use to which we are so prone to turn our condemnation of evil in one form, as that of purchasing a license for it in another, the persons who are justly arraigning the powers at the head of nations should be warned that they do not take from the guilty omissions of states a sanction for individuals to do nothing. let them not suffer an imposition on their minds in the notion entertained of a state, as a thing to be no otherwise accounted of than in a collective capacity, acting by a government; as if the collective power and agency of a nation became, in being exerted through that political organ, an affair altogether foreign to the will, the action, the duty, the responsibility, of the persons of whom the nation is composed. let them not put out of sight that whatever is the duty of the national body in that collective capacity, acting through its government, is such only because it is the duty of the individuals composing that body, as far as it is in the power of each; and that it would be their duty individually not the less, though the government, as the depositary of the national power, neglect it. but more than this; to speak generally, and with certain degrees of possible exception, we may affirm that a government _cannot_ be lastingly neglectful of a great duty but because the individuals constituting the community are so. an assertion, that a government has been utterly and criminally neglectful of the moral condition of the inferior population, age after age, and through every change of its administrators; but that, nevertheless, the generality of the individuals of intelligence, wealth, and influence, have all the while been of a quite opposite spirit, zealously intent on remedying the flagrant evil, would be instantly rejected as a contradiction. such an enlightened and philanthropic spirit prevailing widely among the individuals of the nation would carry its impulse into the government in one manner or another. it would either constrain the administrators of the state to act in conformity, or ultimately displace them in favor of better men. even if, short of such a _general_ activity of the respectable and locally influential members of society, a large proportion of them had vigorously prosecuted such a purpose, it would have compelled the administrators of the state to consider, even for their own sake, whether they should be content to see so important a process going on independently of them, and in contrast with their own disgraceful neglect. but at the worst, and on the supposition that they were obstinately inaccessible to all moral and philanthropic considerations, still a grand improvement would have been accomplished, if many thousands of the responsible members of the community had attempted it with zealous and persevering exertion. the neglect, therefore, of the improvement of the people, so glaring in the review of our conduct as a nation, has been, to a very great extent, the insensibility of individuals to obligations lying on them as such, independently of the institutions and administration of the state. and are individuals _now_ absolved from all such responsibility; and the more so, that the conviction of the importance of the object is come upon them with such a new and cogent force? when they say, reproachfully, that the nation, as a body politic, concentrating its powers in its government, disowns or neglects a most important duty, is it to be understood that this accusatory testimony is _their_ share, or something equivalent in substitution for their share, of that very duty? does a collective duty of such very solid substance, vanish into nothing under any attempted process of resolving it into fractions and portions for individuals? and do they themselves, as some of the individuals to whom this duty might thus be distributively assigned,--do they themselves, in spite of self-love, self-estimation, and all the sentiments which they will at other times indulge in homage of their own importance,--do they, when this assignment is attempted to be made to them, instantly and willingly surrender to a feeling of crumbling down from this proud individuality into an undistinguishable existence in the mass; and, profaning the language of religion, say to the state, "in thee we live, move, and have a being?" or, will they, (in assimilation to eastern pagans, who hold that a divinity so pervades them as to be their wills and do their actions, leaving the mere human vehicle without power, duty, or accountableness,) will they account themselves but as passive matter, moved or fixed, and in all things necessitated, by a sovereign mythological something denominated the state? no, not in all things. it is not so that they feel with respect to those other interests and projects, which they are really in earnest to promote, though those concerns may lie in no greater proportion than the one in question does within the scope of their individual ability. the incubus has then vanished; and they find themselves in possession of a free agency, and a degree of power, which they will not patiently hear estimated in any such contemptuous terms. what is there then that should reduce them, as individual agents, to such utter and willing insignificance in the affair of which we are speaking? besides, they may form themselves, in indefinite number, into combination. and is there no power in any collective form in which they can be associated, save just that one in which the aggregation is constituted under the political shape and authority denominated a state? or is it at last that some alarm of superstitious loyalty comes over them; that they grow uneasy in conscience at the high-toned censure they have been stimulated and betrayed to pronounce on the state; that they relapse into the obsequiousness of hesitating, whether they should presume to do good of a kind which the "power ordained of god" has not seen fit to do; that they must wait for the sanction of its great example; that till the "shout of kings is among them" it were better not to march against the vandalism and the paganism which are, the while, quite at their ease, destroying the people? but if such had always been the way in which private individuals, single or associated, had accounted of themselves and their possible exertions, in regard to great general improvements, but very few would ever have been accomplished. for the case has commonly been, that the schemes of such improvements have originated with persons not invested with political power; have been urged on by the accession and co-operation of such individuals; and at length slowly and reluctantly acceded to by the holders of dominion over the community, always, through some malignant fatality, the last to admit what had long appeared to the majority of thinking men no less than demonstrative evidence of the propriety and advantage of the reformation. in all probability, the improvement of mankind is destined, under providence, to advance nearly in proportion as good men feel the responsibility for it resting on themselves as individuals, and are actuated by a bold sentiment of independence, (humble at the same time, in reference to the necessity of divine intervention,) in the prosecution of it. each person who is standing still to look, with grief or indignation, at the evils which are overrunning the world, would do well to recollect what he may have read of some gallant partisan, who, perceiving where a prompt movement, with the comparatively slender force at his own command, would make an impression infallibly tending to the success of the warfare, could not endure to lose the time till some great sultan should find it convenient to come in slow march, and the pomp of state, to take on him the direction of the campaign. in laying this emphasis of incitement and hope on the exertions of good men as individuals, we cannot be understood to mean that the government of states, if ever they did come to be intent on rendering the condition of society better and happier, could not contribute beyond all calculation to the force and efficacy of _every_ project and measure for that grand purpose. how far from it! it is melancholy to consider what they might do and do not. but it is because their history, thus far, affords such feeble prognostics of their becoming, till some better age, actuated by such a spirit,--it is because the divine governor has hitherto put upon them so little of the honor of being the instruments of his beneficence,--that the anticipations of good, and the exhortations to attempt it, are so peculiarly directed to its promoters in an individual capacity. happily, the accusatory part of such exhortations is becoming, we trust we may say fast becoming, less extensively applicable; and we return with pleasure to the animating idea of that revolution of which we were noting the introductory signs. it is a revolution in the manner of estimating the souls of the people, and consequently in the judgment of what should be done for both their present and future welfare. through many ages, that immense multitude had been but obscurely presented to view in any such character as that of rational, improvable creatures. they were recognized no otherwise than as one large mass of rude moral substance, but faintly distinguishable into individuals; existing, and to be left to exist, in their own manner; and that manner hardly worth concern or inquiry. little consideration could there be of how much spiritual immortal essence must be going to waste, absorbed in the very earth, all over the wide field where the inferior portion of humanity was seen only through the gross medium of an economical estimate, by the more favored part of the race. but now it is as if a mist were rising and dispersing from that field, and leaving the multitude of possessors of uncultivated and degraded mind exhibited in a light in which they were never seen before, except by the faithful promoters of christianity, and a few philanthropists of a less special order. it is true, this manifestation forms so tragic a vision, that if we had only to behold it _as a spectacle_, we might well desire that the misty obscurity should descend on it again, to shroud it from sight; while we should be left to indulge and elate our imaginations by dwelling on the pomps and splendors of the terrestrial scene,--the mighty empires, the heroes, the victories, the triumphs; the refinements and enjoyments of the most highly cultivated of the race; the brilliant performances of genius, and the astonishing reach of science. so the tempter would have beguiled our lord into a complacent contemplation of the kingdoms and glories of the world. but he was come to look on a different aspect of it! nor could he be withdrawn from the gloomy view of its degradation and misery. and a good reason why. for the sole object for which he had appeared in the only world where temptation could even in form approach him was to begin in operation, and finish in virtue, a design for changing that state of degradation and misery. in the prosecution of such a design, and in the spirit of that divine benevolence in which it sprung, he could endure to fix on the melancholy and odious character of the scene, the contemplation which was vainly attempted to be diverted to any other of its aspects. what, indeed, could sublunary pomps and glories be to him in any case; but emphatically what, when his object was to redeem the people from darkness and destruction? those who, actuated by a spirit in some humble resemblance to his, have entered deeply into the state of the people, such as it is found in our own nation, have often been appalled at the spectacle disclosed to them. they have been astonished to think, what _can_ have been the direction, while successive ages have passed away, of so many thousands of acute and vigilant mental eyes, that so dreadful a sight should scarcely have been descried. they have been aware that in describing it as they actually saw it, they would be regarded by some as gloomy fanatics, tinctured with insanity by the influence of some austere creed; and that others, of kinder nature, but whose sensibility has more of self-indulging refinement than tendency to active benevolence, would almost wish that so revolting an exhibition had never been made, though the fact be actually so. there may have been moments when they themselves have experienced a temporary recoil of their benevolent zeal, under the impression at once of the immensity of the evil, so defying the feebleness of their remedial means and efforts, and of its noisome quality. at times, the rudeness of the subjects, and perhaps the ungracious reception and thankless requital of their disinterested labors, aggravating the general feeling of the miserableness (so to express it) of seeing so much misery, have lent seduction to the temptations to ease and self-indulgence. why should they, just _they_ of all men, condemn themselves to dwell so much in the most dreary climate of the moral world, when they could perhaps have taken their almost constant abode in a little elysium of elegant knowledge, taste, and refined society? then was the time to revert to the example of him "who, though he was rich, for our sakes became poor." or, again, they may have been betrayed to indulge too long in the bitter mood of thinking, how entirely the higher and more amply furnished powers leave such generous designs to proceed as they can, in the mere strength of private individual exertion. and they may have yielded to depressive feelings after the fervor of indignant ones; for such indignation, unless qualified by the purest principle--unless it be the "anger that sins not"--is very apt, when it cools, to settle into misanthropic despondency. it is as if (they have said) armies and giants would stand aloof to amuse themselves, while we are to be committed and abandoned in the ceaseless, unavailable toil of a conflict, which these armies and giants have no business even to exist as such but for the very purpose of waging. we are, if we will,--and if we will we may let it alone--to try to effect in diminutive pieces, and detached local efforts, a little share of that, to the accomplishment of which the greatest human force on earth might be applied on system, and to the widest compass. so they have said, perhaps, and been tempted to leave their object to its destiny. but really it is now too late for this resentful and desponding abandonment. they cannot now retire in the tragic dignity of despair. it must be some more forlorn predicament that would allow them any grace of rhetoric in saying, as in parody of cato, "witness heaven and earth, that we have done our duty, but the stars and fate are against us; and here it becomes us to terminate a strife, which would degenerate into the ridiculous, if prosecuted against impossibilities." on the contrary, the zeal which could begin so onerous a work, and prosecute it thus far, could not now remit without convicting its past ardor of cowardice lurking under its temporary semblance of bravery. is it for the projectors of a noble edifice of public utility, to abandon the undertaking when it has risen from its foundation to be seen above the ground; or is just come to be level with the surface of the waters, in defiance of which it has been commenced, and the violence of which it was designed to control, or the unfordable depths and streams of which it was to bear people over? let the promoters of education and christian knowledge among the inferior classes, reflect what has already been accomplished; though regarding it as quite the incipient stage. it is most truly as yet "the day of small things;" and shall they despise it, from an idea of what it might have been if the great powers had been directed to its advancement? they have found that in the good cause thus unaided they have not wholly labored in vain; that it _can_ be brought in contact with a considerable portion of what would otherwise be so much human existence abandoned; and that already, as from the garments of the divine healer of diseases, a sanative virtue goes out of it. let them recount the individuals they have seen, and not despond as to many more, rescued from what had all the signs of a destination to the lowest debasement, and utter ruin; some of whom are returning animated thanks, and will do so in the hour of death, for what these, their best human friends, have been the means of imparting to them. let them recollect of how many families they have seen the domestic condition pleasingly, and in some instances eminently and delightfully amended. and let them reflect how they have trampled down prejudices, nearly silenced a heathenish clamor, and provoked the imitative and rival efforts of many who would, but for them, have been willing enough for all such schemes to lie in abeyance to the end of time. let them think of all this, and faithfully persist in the trial what it may please god that they shall accomplish, whether the possessors of national power will acknowledge his demand for such an application of it or not; whether, when the infinite importance of the concern is represented to them, they will hear, or whether they will forbear. but let them not doubt that the time will come, when the rulers and the ascendant classes in states will comprehend it to be their best policy to promote all possible improvement of the people. it will be given to them to understand, that the highest glory of those at the head of great communities, must consist in the eminence attained by those communities generally, in whatever it is that constitutes the worth, the honor, the happiness, of individuals; a glory with which would be combined the advantage that the office of presiding over such a nation could be administered in a liberal spirit. they will one day have learned to esteem it a far nobler form of power to lead and direct an immense society of intelligent minds, than to delude, coerce, and drive a vast semi-barbarous herd. providence surely will one day, in the progress of society, confer on it such wise and virtuous rulers as can feel, that it is better for them to have a people who can understand and rationally approve, when deserving of approbation, their system and measures, than one bent in stupid submission, even if ignorance could henceforward suffice (which it cannot) to retain the people in that posture; better, therefore, by a still stronger reason, than to have a people fermenting in ignorant disaffection, constantly believing the governors to be in the wrong, and without the sense to comprehend any arguments in justification, excepting such as might be addressed in the shape of bribes to corruption. and a time will come when it will not be left to the philanthropic or censorial speculatists alone, to make the comparative estimate between what has been effected by the enormously expensive apparatus of coercive and penal administration--the prisons, prosecutions, transportations, and a large military police, (things quite necessary in our past and present national condition,)--and what _might_ have been effected by one half of that expenditure devoted to popular reformation, to be accomplished by means of schools, and every practicable variety of methods for placing men's judgment and conscience as the "lion in the way," when they are inclined and tempted to go wrong.--all this will come to pass at length. and if the promoters of the best designs see cause to fear that the time is remote, this should but enforce upon them the more strongly the admonition that no time is _theirs_, but the present. it was not possible to pursue the long course of these observations so nearly to the conclusion, without being reminded still again of what we have adverted to before, that there will be persons ready to impute sanguine extravagance to our expectations of the result of such an order of means and exertions, for the improvement of the education and mental condition of the people, as we see already beginning to work. when the means are of so little splendid a quality, it will be said, by what inflation of fancy is their power admeasured to such effects? and what _is_ it, then, and how much, that is expected as the result, by the zealous advocates of schools, and the whole order of expedients, for the instruction of that part of the rising generation till lately so neglected? are they heard maintaining that the communication of knowledge, or true notions of things, to youthful minds, will _infallibly_ ensure their virtue and happiness? they are not quite so new to the world, to experimental labor in the business of tuition, or to self-observation. their vigilance would hardly overlook such a circumstance as the very different degree of assurance with which the effects may be predicted, of ignorance on the one hand, and of knowledge on the other. there is very nearly an absolute certainty of success in the method for making clowns, sots, vagabonds, and ruffians. you may safely leave it to themselves to carry on the process for becoming complete. let human creatures grow up without discipline, destitute therefore of salutary information, sound judgment, or any conscience but what will shape itself to whatever they like, serving in the manner of some vile friar pander in the old plays,--and no one takes any credit for foresight in saying they will be a noxious burden on the earth; except indeed in those tracts of it where they seem to have their appropriate place and business, in being matched against the wolves and bears of the wilderness. when they infest what should be a civilized and christianized part of the world, the philanthropist is sometimes put in doubt whether to repress, or indulge, the sentiment which tempts him to complacency in the operation of an epidemic which is thinning their numbers. the consequences of ignorance are certain, unless almost a miracle interpose; but unhappily those of knowledge are of diffident and restricted calculation; unless we could make a trifle of the testimony of all ages, and suppress the evidence of present experience, that men may see and approve the better, and yet follow the worse. it is the hapless predicament of our nature, that the noblest of its powers, the understanding, has but most imperfectly and precariously that commanding hold on the others, which is essential to the good order of the soul. our constitution is like a machine in which there is a constant liability of the secondary wheels to be thrown out of the catch and grapple of the master one. and worse than so, these powers which ought to be subordinate and obedient to the understanding, are not left to stand still when detached from its control. they have a strong activity of their own, from the impulse of other principles: indeed, it is this impulse that _causes_ the detachment. it is frightful to look at the evidence from facts, that these active powers _may_ grow strong in the perversity which will set the judgment at defiance, during the very time that it is successfully training to a competence for dictating to them what is right. the assertions of those who are determined to find the chief or only cause of the wrong direction of the passions and will in misapprehension of the understanding, are a gross assumption, in a question of fact, against an infinite crowd of facts pressing round with their evidence. this evidence is offered by men without number distinctly and deliberately acknowledging their conviction of the evil quality and fatal consequences, of courses which they are soon afterwards seen pursuing, and without the smallest pretence of a change of opinion; by the same men in more advanced stages still owning the same conviction, and sometimes in strong terms of self-reproach, in the checks and pauses of their career; and by men in the near prospect of death and judgment expressing, in bitter regret, the acknowledgment that they had persisted in acting wrong when they knew better. and this assumption, made against such evidence, is to be maintained for no better reason, that appears, than a wilful determination that human nature cannot, must not, shall not, be so absurd and depraved as to be capable of such madness: as if human nature were taking the smallest trouble to put on any disguise before them, to beguile them into a good opinion; as if it could be cajoled by their flattery to assume even a semblance of deserving it; as if it had the complaisance to check one bad propensity, to save them from standing contradicted and exposed to ridicule for speaking of it with indulgence or respect; as if it stayed or cared to thank them for their pains in attempting to make out a plausible extenuation. it has, and keeps, and shows its character, in perfect indifference to the puzzled efforts of its apologists to reduce its moral turpitude to just so much error of the understanding. but, as for understanding--it should be time to look to their own, when they find themselves asserting, in other words, that there is actually as much virtue in the world as there is knowledge of its principles and laws. we should rather have surmised that, deplorably deficient as that knowledge is, the reduction of a fifth or tenth part of it to practice would make a glorious change in england and europe. the persons, therefore, whose zeal is combined with knowledge in the prosecution of plans for the extension of education, proceed on a calculation of an effect more limited, in apparent proportion to the means, and with less certainty of even that more limited measure in any single instance, than they would have been justified in anticipating in many other departments of operation. they would, for example, predict more positively the results of an undertaking to cultivate any tract of waste land, to reclaim a bog, or to render mechanical forces available in an untried mode of application; or, in many cases, the decided success of the healing art as applied to a diseased body. they must needs be moderate in their confidence of calculation for good, on a moral nature whose corruption would yield an enemy of mankind a gratifying probability in calculating for evil. in comparing these opposite calculations, they would be glad if they might make an exchange of the respective probabilities. that is to say, let a man, if such there be, who could be pleased with the depravity and misery of the race, a sagacious judge too, of their moral constitution, and a veteran observer of their conduct,--let him survey with the look of an evil spirit a hundred children in one of the benevolent schools, and indulge himself in prognosticating, on the strength of what he knows of human nature, the proportion, in numbers and degree, in which these children will, in subsequent life, exemplify the _failure_ of what is done for their wisdom and welfare;--let him make his calculation, and, we say, there may be times when the friends of these institutions would be glad to transfer the quantity of probability from his side to theirs; would feel they should be happy if the proportion in which they fear he may be right in calculating on evil from the nature of the beings under discipline, were, instead, the proportion in which it is rational to reckon on good from the efficacy of that discipline. "evil, be thou my good," might be their involuntary apostrophe, in the sense of wishing to possess the stronger power, transmuted to the better quality. but we shall know where to stop in the course of observations of this darkening color: and shall take off the point of the derider's taunt, just forthcoming, that we are here unsaying, in effect, all that we have been so laboriously urging about the vast benefit of knowledge to the people. it was proper to show, that the prosecutors of these designs are not suffering themselves to be duped out of a perception of what there is, in the nature of the youthful subjects, to counteract the intention of the discipline, and with too certain a power to limit its efficacy to a very partial measure of the effect desired. these projectors might fairly be required to prove they are not unknowing enthusiasts; but then, in keeping clear of the vain extravagances of expectation, they are not to surrender their confidence that something great and important can be done; it should be possible for a man to be sober, short of being dead. they are not to gravitate into a state of feeling as if they thought the understanding and the moral powers are but casually associated in the mind; as if an important communication to the one, might, so to speak, never be heard of by the others; as if these subordinates had just one sole principle of action--that of disobeying their chief, so that it could be of no use to appeal to the master of the house respecting the conduct of his inmates; as if, therefore, _all_ presumption of a relation between means and ends, as a ground of confidence in the efficacy of popular instruction, must be illusory. it might not indeed be amiss for them to be _told_ that the case is so, by those who would desire, from whatever motive, to repress their efforts and defeat their designs. for so downright a blow at the vital principle of their favorite object would but serve to provoke them to ascertain more definitely what there really is for them to found their schemes and hopes upon, and therefore to verify to themselves the reasons they have for persisting, in assurance that the labor will be far from wholly lost. and for this assurance it is, at the very lowest, self-evident, that there is at any rate such an efficacy in cultivation, as to give a certainty that a well-cultivated people _cannot_ remain on the same degraded moral level as a neglected ignorant one--or anywhere near it. none of those even that value such designs the least, ever pretend to foresee, in the event of their being carried into effect, an undiminished prevalence of rudeness and brutality of manners, of delight in spectacles and amusements of cruelty, of noisy revelry, of sottish intemperance, or of disregard of character. it is not pretended to be foreseen, that the poorer classes will then continue to display so much of that almost desperate improvidence respecting their temporal means and prospects, which has aggravated the calamities of the present times. it is not predicted that a universal school-discipline will bring up several millions to the neglect, and many of them in an impudent contempt, of attendance on the ministrations of religion. the result will at all hazards, by every one's acknowledgment, be _the contrary of this_. but more specifically:--the promoters of the plans of popular education see a most important advantage gained in the very outset, in the obvious fact, that in their schools a very large portion of time is employed well, that otherwise would infallibly be employed ill. let any one introduce himself into one of these places of concourse, where there has been time to mature the arrangements. he should not enter as an important personage, in patronizing and judicial state, as if to demand the respectful looks of the whole tribe from their attention to their printed rudiments and their slates; but glide in as a quiet observer, just to survey at his leisure the character and operations of the scene. undoubtedly he may descry here and there the signs of inattention, weariness or vacancy, not to say of perverseness. even these individuals, however, are out of the way of practical harm; and at the same time he will see a multitude of youthful spirits acknowledging the duty of directing their best attention to something altogether foreign to their wild amusements; of making a rather protracted effort in one mode or another of the strange business of _thinking_. he will perceive in many the unequivocal indications of a serious and earnest effort made to acquire, with the aid visible signs and implements, a command of what is invisible and immaterial. they are thus rising from the mere animal state to tread in the precincts of an intellectual economy; the economy of thought and truth, in which they are to live forever; and never, in all futurity, will they have to regret, for itself, [footnote: _for itself_--a phrase of qualification inserted to meed the captious remark, that there have been instances of bad men, under the reproach of conscience of the dread of consequences, expressing a regret that they had ever been well instructed, since this was an aggravation of their guilt, and perhaps had subserved their evil propensities with the more effectual means and ability.] _this_ period and part of their employments. he will be delighted to think how many regulated actions of the mind, how many just ideas distinctly admitted, that were unknown or unimpressed at the beginning of the day's exercise, (and among these ideas, some to remind them of god and their highest interest,) there will have been by the time the busy and well-ordered company breaks up in the evening, and leaves silence within these walls. he will not indeed grow romantic in hope; he knows the nature of which these beings partake; knows therefore that the desired results of this process will but partially follow; but still rejoices to think those partial results which will most certainly follow, will be worth incomparably more than all they will have cost to the learners, or the teachers, or the patrons. now let him, when he has contemplated this scene, consider how the greatest part of this numerous company would have been employed during the same hours, whether of the sabbath or other days, but for such a provision of means for their instruction. and, for the contrast, he has only to leave the school, and walk a mile round the neighborhood, in which it will be very wonderful, (we may say this of most parts of england,) if he shall not, in a populous district, especially near a great town, and on a fine day, meet with a great number of wretched, disgusting imps, straggling or in knots, in the activity of mischief and nuisance, or at least the full cry of vile and profane language; with here and there, as a lord among them, an elder larger one growing fast into an insolent adult blackguard. he may make the comparison, quite sure that such as they are, and so employed, would many now under the salutary discipline of yonder school have been, but for its institution. but the two classes so beheld in contrast, might they not seem to belong to two different nations? do they not seem growing into two extremely different orders of character? do they not even seem preparing for different worlds in the final distribution? the friends of these designs for a general and highly improved education, may proceed further in this course of verifying to themselves the grounds of their assurance of happy consequences. a number of ideas, the most important that were ever formed in human thought, or imparted to men from the supreme mind, will be so communicated and impressed in these institutions, that it is absolutely certain they will be fixed irrevocably in the minds of the pupils. and in the case of many, if not the majority of these destined adventurers into the temptations of life, these important ideas, thus inserted deep in their souls, will distinctly present themselves to judgment and conscience an incalculable number of times. what a number, if the sum of all these reminiscences, in all the minds now assembled in a numerous school, could be conjectured! but if one in a hundred of these recollections, if one in a thousand, shall be efficacious, who can compute the amount of the good resulting from the instruction which shall have so enforced and fixed these ideas that they shall inevitably be thus recollected? and is it altogether out of reason to hope that the desired efficacy will, far oftener than once in a thousand times, attend the luminous rising again of a solemn idea to the view of the mind! is still less than _this_ to be predicted for our unhappy nature, while, however fallen, it is not abandoned by the care of its creator! the institutions themselves will gradually improve, in both the method and the compass of their discipline. they will acquire a more vigorous mechanism, and a more decidedly intellectual character. in this latter respect, it is but comparatively of late years that schools for the inferior classes have ventured anything beyond the humblest pretensions. mental cultivation--enlarged knowledge--elements of science--habit of thinking--exercise of judgment--free and enlightened opinion--higher grade in society--were terms which they were to be reverently cautious of taking in vain. there would have been an offensive sound in such phrases, as seeming to betray somewhat of the impertinence of a _disposition_, (for the idea of the _practicability_ of any such invasion would have been scorned,) to encroach on a ground exclusively appropriate to the superior orders. schools for the poor were to be as little as possible scholastic. they were to be kept down to the lowest level of the workshop, excepting perhaps in one particular--that of working hard: for the scholars were to throw time away rather than be occupied with anything beyond the merest rudiments. the advocates and the petitioners for aid of such schools, were to avow and plead how little it was that they pretended or presumed to teach. the argument in their behalf was either to begin or end with saying, that they taught _only_ reading and writing; or if it could not be denied that there was to be some meddling with arithmetic and grammar,--we may safely appeal to some of the veterans of these pleaders, whether they did not, thirty or forty years since, bring out this addition with the management and hesitation of a confession and apology. it is a prominent characteristic of that happy revolution we have spoken of as in commencement, that this aristocratic notion of education is breaking up. the theory of the subject is loosening into enlargement, and will cease by degrees to impose a niggardly restriction on the extent of the cultivation, proper to be attempted in schools for the inferiors of the community. as these institutions go on, augmenting in number and improving in organization, their pupils will bring their quality and efficacy to the proof, as they grow to maturity, and go forth to act their part in society. and there can be no doubt, that while too many of them may be mournful exemplifications of the power with which the evil genius of the corrupt nature, combined with the infection of a bad world, resists the better influences of instruction, and may, after the advantage of such an introductory stage, be carried down towards the old debasement, a very considerable proportion will take and permanently maintain a far higher ground. they will have become imbued with an element, which must put them in strong repulsion to that coarse vulgar that will be sure to continue in existence, in this country, long enough to be a trial of the moral taste of this better cultivated race. it will be seen that they cannot associate with it by choice, and in the spirit of companionship. and while they are thus withheld on their part, from approximating, it may be hoped that in certain better disposed parts of that vulgar, there may be a conversion of the repelling principle into an impulse to approach and join them on their own ground. there will be numbers among it who cannot be so entirely insensate or perverse, as to look with carelessness at the advantages obtained through the sole medium of personal improvement, by those who had otherwise been exactly on the same level of low resources and estimation as themselves. the effect of this view on pride, in some, and on better propensities, it may be hoped, in others, will be to excite them to make their way upward to a community which, they will clearly see, could commit no greater folly than to come downward to them. and we will presume a friendly disposition in most of those who shall have been raised to this higher standing, to meet such aspirers and help them to ascend. and while they will thus draw upward the less immovable and hopeless part of the mass below them, they will themselves, on the other hand, be placed, by the respectability of their understanding and manners, within the influence of the higher cultivation of the classes above them; a great advantage, as we have taken a former occasion to notice:--a great advantage, that is to say, if the cultivation among those classes _be_ generally of such a quality and measure, that the people could not be brought a few degrees nearer to them without becoming, through the effect of their example, more in love with sense, knowledge, and propriety of conduct. for it were somewhat too much of simplicity, perhaps, to take it for quite a thing of course that the people would always perceive such intellectual accomplishments as would keep them modest or humble in their estimate of their own, and such liberal spirit and manners as would at once command their respect and conduce to their refinement, when they made any approach to a communication with the classes superior in possessions and station. if this _might_ have been assumed as a thing of course, and if therefore it might have been confidently reckoned on, that the more improving of the people would receive from the ranks above them a salutary influence, similar to that which we have been supposing they will themselves exert on a part of the vulgar mass below them, there had been a happy omen for the community; and if it may not be so assumed, are we to have the disgraceful deficiencies of the upper classes pleaded as an argument against raising the lower from their degradation? must the multitude flounder along the mud at the bottom of the upward slope, because their betters will not be at the cost of making for themselves a higher terraced road across it than that they are now walking on? * * * * * but it would be an admirable turn to make the lower orders act beneficially on the higher. and it is an important advantage likely to accrue from the better education of the common people, that their rising attainments would compel not a few of their superiors to look to the state of their own mental pretensions, on perceiving that _this_, at last, was becoming a ground on which, in no small part, their precedence was to be measured. surely it would be a most excellent thing, that they should find themselves thus incommodiously pressed upon by the only circumstance, perhaps, that could make them sensible there are more kinds of poverty than that single one to which alone they had hitherto attached ideas of disgrace; and should be forced to preserve that ascendency for which wealth and station would formerly suffice, at the cost, now, of a good deal more reading, thinking, and general self-discipline. and would it be a worthy sacrifice, that to spare some substantial agriculturalists, idle gentlemen, and sporting or promenading ecclesiastics, such an afflictive necessity, the actual tillers of the ground, and the workers in manufacture and mechanics, should continue to be kept in stupid ignorance? it is very possible this may excite a smile, as the threatening of a necessity or a danger to these privileged persons, which it is thought they may be comfortably assured is very remote. this danger (namely, that a good many of them, or rather of those who are coming in the course of nature to succeed them in the same rank, will find that its relative consequence cannot be sustained but at a very considerably higher pitch of mental qualification) is threatened upon no stronger presages than the following:--allow us first to take it for granted, that it is not a very protracted length of time that is to pass away before the case comes to be, that a large proportion of the children of the lower classes are trained, through a course of assiduous instruction and exercise in the most valuable knowledge, during a series of years, in schools which everything possible is done to render efficient. then, if we include in one computation all the time they will have spent in real mental effort and acquirement there, and all those pieces and intervals of time which we may reasonably hope that many of them will improve to the same purpose in the subsequent years, a very great number of them will have employed, by the time they reach middle age, many thousands of hours more than people in their condition have heretofore done, in a way the most directly tending to place them greatly further on in whatever of importance for repute and authority intelligence is to bear in society. and how must we be estimating the natural capacities of these inferior classes, or the perceptions of the higher, not to foresee as a consequence, that these latter will find their relative situation greatly altered, with respect to the measure of knowledge and mental power requisite as one most essential constituent of their superiority, in order to command the unfeigned deference of their inferiors? our strenuous promoters of the schemes for cultivating the minds of all the people, are not afraid of professing to foresee, that when schools, of that completely disciplinarian organization which they are, we hope, gradually to attain, shall have become general, and shall be vigorously seconded by all those auxiliary expedients for popular instruction which are also in progress, a very pleasing modification will become apparent in the character, the moral color, if we might so express it, of the people's ordinary employment. the young persons so instructed, being appointed, for the most part, to the same occupations to which they would have been destined had they grown up in utter ignorance and vulgarity, are expected to give evidence that the meanness, the debasement almost, which had characterized many of those occupations in the view of the more refined classes, was in truth the debasement of the men more than of the callings; which will come to be in more honorable estimation as associated with the sense, decorum, and self-respect of the performers, than they were while blended and polluted with all the low habits, manners, and language, of ignorance and vulgar grossness. and besides, there is the consideration of the different degrees of merit in the performance itself; and who will be the persons most likely to excel, in the many branches of workmanship and business which admit of being better done in proportion to the degree of intelligence directed upon them? and again, who will be most in requisition for those offices of management and superintendence, where something must be confided to judgment and discretion, and where the value is felt, (often vexatiously felt from the want,) of some capacity of combination and foresight? such as these are among the subordinate benefits reasonably, we might say infallibly, calculated upon. our philanthropists are confident in foreseeing also, that very many of these better educated young persons will be valuable co-operators with all who may be more formally employed in instruction, against that ignorance from which themselves have been so happily saved; will exert an influence, by their example and the steady avowal of their principles, against vice and folly in their vicinity; and will be useful advisers of their neighbors in their perplexities, and sometimes moderators in their discords. it is predicted, with a confidence so much resting on general grounds of probability, as hardly to need the instances already afforded in various parts of the country to confirm it, that here and there one of the well-instructed humbler class will become a competent and useful public teacher of the most important truth. it is, in short, anticipated with delightful assurance, that great numbers of those who shall go forth from under the friendly guardianship which will take the charge of their youthful minds, will be examples through life and at its conclusion, of the power and felicity of religion. here we can suppose it not improbable that some one may, in pointed terms, put the question,--do you then, at last, mean to affirm that you can, by the proposed course, by any course, of discipline, absolutely secure that effectual operation and ascendency of religion in the mind, which shall place it in the right condition toward god, and in a state of fitness for passing, without fear or danger, into the scenes of its future endless existence? we think the cautious limitation of language, hitherto observed in setting forth our expectations, might preclude such a question. but let it be asked, since there can be no difficulty to reply. we do _not_ affirm that any form of discipline, the wisest and best in the power of the wisest and best men to apply, is competent of itself thus to subject the mind decidedly and permanently to the power of religion. on the contrary, we believe that grand effect can be accomplished only by a special influence of the divine being, operating by the means applied in a well-judged system of instruction, or, if he pleases, independently of them. but next, it is perfectly certain, notwithstanding, that the application of these human means will, in a multitude of instances, be efficacious to that most happy end. this certainty arises from a few very plain general considerations. the first is, that the whole system of means appointed by the almighty to be employed as a human process for presenting religion solemnly in view before men's minds, and enforcing it on them, is an appointment _expressly intended_ for working that great effect which secures their final felicity; though to what extent in point of number is altogether unknown to the subordinate agents. they are perfectly certain, in employing the appointed expedients in prosecution of the work, that they must be proceeding on the strength of a positive relation subsisting between those means and the results to be realized, in what instances, in what measure, at what time, it shall please the sovereign power. the appointment cannot be one of mere exercise for the faculties and submissive obedience of those who are summoned to be active in its execution. accordingly, there are in the divine revelation very many explicit and animating assurances, that their exertions shall certainly be in a measure effectual to the proposed end. and if these assurances are made in favor of the exertions for inculcating religion generally, that is, on men of all conditions and ages, they may be assumed as giving special encouragement to those for impressing it on young minds, before they can be preoccupied and hardened by the depravities of the world. there is plainly the more hope for the efficacy of those exertions the less there is to frustrate them. but besides, the authority itself, which has assured a measure of success to religious instruction as administered generally, has marked with peculiar strength the promise of its success as applied to the young; thus affording rays of hope which have in ten thousand instances animated the diligence of pious parents, and the other benevolent instructors of children. there is also palpable matter of fact to the point, that an education which combines the discipline of the conscience and the intellectual faculty will be rendered, in many instances, efficacious to the formation of a religious character. this obvious fact is, that a much greater proportion of the persons so educated do actually become the subjects of religion, than of a similar number of those brought up in ignorance and profligacy. take collectively any number of families in which such an education prevails, and the same number in which it does not, and follow the young persons respectively into subsequent life. but any one who hears the suggestion, feels there is no need to wait the lapse of time and follow their actual course. as instructed by what he has already seen in society, he can go forward with them prophetically, with perfect certainty that many more of the one tribe than that of the other, will become persons not only of moral respectability but decided piety. any one that should assert respecting them that the probabilities are equal and indifferent, would be considered as sporting a wilful absurdity, or betraying that he is one of those who did not come into the world for anything they can learn in it. and the experience which thus authorizes a perfect confidence of prediction, is evidence that, though discipline must wholly disclaim an absolute power to effect the great object in question, there is, nevertheless, such a constitution of things that it most certainly will, as an instrumental cause, in many instances effect it. the state of the matter, then, is very simple. the supreme cause of men's being "made wise to salvation," in appointing a system of means, to be put by human activity in operation toward this effect, has also appointed that in this operation they shall infallibly be attended with a measure of success in accomplishing that highest good,--a measure which was not to be accomplished otherwise than by such means. so much he has signified to men as an absolute certainty: but then, he has connected this certainty in an arbitrary, and as to our knowledge, indefinite manner with the system. it is a certainty connected with the system _as taken generally and comprehensively_; and which it is not given to us to affix to the particular instances in which the success will take place. it is a divine volition suspended over the whole scene of cultivation; like a cloud from which we cannot tell where precisely the shower to fertilize it will fall, certain, however, that there are spots whose verdure and flowers will tell after awhile. the agents under the sovereign dispenser are to proceed on this positive assurance that the success _shall be somewhere_, though they cannot know that it will be in this one instance, or in the other: "in the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thy hand; for thou knowest not whether shall prosper, this, or that." if they rate the value of their agency so high, as to hold it derogatory to their dignity that any part of their labors should be performed under the condition of possibly being unsuccessful, they may be assured that such is not exactly the estimate of him to whom they look for the acceptance of their services, and for the reward. but it may be added, that the great majority of those who are intent on the schemes for enlightening and reforming mankind, are entertaining a confident hope of the approach of a period, when the success will be far greater in proportion to the measure of exertion in every department of the system of instrumentality for that grand object. we cherish this confidence, not on the strength of any pretension to be able to resolve prophetic emblems and numbers, into precise dates and events of the present and approaching times. it rests on a more general mode of apprehending a relation between the extraordinary indications of the period we live in, and the substantial purport of the divine predictions. there unquestionably gleams forth, through the plainer lines, and through the mystical imagery of prophecy, the vision of a better age, in which the application of the truths of religion to men's minds will be irresistible. and what should more naturally be interpreted as one of the dawning signs of its approach, than a new spirit come into action with insuppressible impulse, at once to dispel the fog from their intellects and bring the heavenly light to shine close upon them; accompanied by a prodigious convulsion in the old system of the world, which hardly recognized in the inferior millions the very existence of souls to need or be worth such an illumination? it is true that an eruptive activity of evil, beyond what was witnessed by our forefathers, has attended and followed that convulsion; as mephitic exhalations are emitted through the rents of an earthquake. viewed in itself, this outbreak of the bad principles and passions might seem to portend anything rather than a grand improvement in the state of a nation or of mankind. it appears like an actual augmentation of the evil previously existing. but it should rather be regarded as the setting loose of the noxious elements accumulated and rankling under the old system; a phenomenon inevitably attendant on its breaking up, by a catastrophe absolutely necessary to open and clear the field for operations on the great scale against those evils themselves, and to give scope and means for the advancement toward a better condition of humanity. the laborers in the institutions for instructing the young descendants of an ill-fated generation, may often regret to perceive how little the process is as yet informed with the energy which is ultimately to pervade the world. but let them regard as one great undivided economy and train of operation, these initiatory efforts and all that is to follow, till that time "when all shall know the lord;" and take by anticipation, as in fraternity with the happier future laborers, their just share of that ultimate triumph. those active spirits, in the happier periods, will look back with this sentiment of kindred and complacency to those who sustained the earlier toils of the good cause, and did not suffer their zeal to languish under the comparative smallness of their success. * * * * * we shall conclude with a few sentences in the way of reply to another question, which we can surmise there may be persons ready to ask, after this long iteration of the assertion of the necessity of knowledge to the common people. the question would be to this effect: what do you, all this while, mean to assign as the _measure_ of knowledge proper for the people to be put in possession of?--for you do not specify the kinds, or limit the extent: you talk in vague general terms of mental improvement; you leave the whole matter indefinite; and for all that appears, the people are never to know when they know enough. it is answered, that we _do_ leave the extent undefined, and should request to be informed where, and why, the line of circumscription and exclusion should be drawn. is it, we could really wish to know, a point at all yet decided, wherein consist the value and importance of the human nature? any liberal scheme for its universal cultivation is met by such a jealous parsimony toward the common people, such a ready imputation of wild theory, such protesting declamations against the mischief of practically applying abstract principles, such an undisguised or betrayed precedence given to mere interests of state, and those perhaps very sordid ones, before all others, and such whimsical prescriptions for making a salutary compound of a little knowledge and much ignorance,--that it might seem to be doubtful, after all, whether the human nature, in the mass of mankind at least, be of any such consistence, or for any such purpose, as is affirmed in our common-places on the subject. it is uniformly assumed in the language of divines, and of the philosophers in most repute, that the worth, the dignity, the importance of man, are in his rational, immortal nature; and that therefore the best condition of _that_ is his true felicity and glory, and the object chiefly to be aimed at in all that is done by him, and for him, on earth. but whether this should be regarded as anything more than the elated faith of ascetics, a fine dogma of academics, or a theme for show in the pomp of moral rhetoric? for we often see, and it is very striking to see, how principles which are suffered to pass for infallible truth while content to stay within the province of speculation, and to be pronounced as mere doctrine, may be disowned and repelled when they come demanding to have their appropriate place and influence in the practical sphere. even many pretended advocates of christianity, who in naming certain principles would seem to make them of the very essence of the moral part of that religion, and, in discoursing merely as _religionists_, will insist on their vital importance, will yet shuffle and equivocate about these principles, and in effect set them aside, when they are attempted to be applied to some of their most legitimate uses. if, for example, these religionists are among the servile adherents of corrupted institutions and iniquity invested with power, they will easily find accommodating interpretations, or pleas of exemption from the direct authority, of some of the most sacred maxims of their professed religion. serve the true god when we happen to be in the right place; but at all events we must attend our master to pay homage in the temple of eimmon, or, should he please to require it, that of moloch,--with this signal difference from the ancient instance of peccant servility, that whereas in that case pardon for it was implored, in the present case a merit is made of the sycophancy and the idolatry. unless the principles of christianity will acknowledge the supremacy of _something else_ than christianity, in the mode of their application to estimate the importance of the popular mind, they may take their repose in bodies of divinity, sermons, catechisms, systems of ethics, or wherever they can find a place. but _is_ it really admitted, as a great principle for practical application, that the mind, the intelligent, imperishable existence, is the supremely valuable thing in man? it is then admitted, inevitably, that the discipline, the correction, the improvement, the maturation of this spiritual being to the highest attainable degree, is the great object to be desired by men, for themselves and one another. that is to say, that knowledge, cultivation, salutary exercise, wisdom, all that can conduce to the perfection of the mind, form the state in which it is due to man's nature that he should be endeavored to be placed. but then, this is due to his nature by an absolutely _general_ law. he cannot be so circumstanced in the order of society that this shall _not_ be due to it. no situation in which the arrangements of the world, or say of providence, may place him, can constitute him a specific kind of creature, to which is no longer fit and necessary that which is necessary to the well-being of man considered generally, as a spiritual, immortal nature. the essential law of this nature cannot be abrogated by men's being placed in humble and narrow circumstances, in which a very large portion of their time and exertions are required for mere subsistence. this accident of a confined situation is no more a reason why their minds should not require the best attainable cultivation, than would be the circumstance that the body in which a man's mind is lodged happens to be of smaller dimensions than those of other men. that under the disadvantages of this humble situation they _cannot_ acquire all the mental improvement, desirable for the perfection of their intelligent nature, that the situation renders it impracticable, is quite another matter. so far as this inhibition is real and absolute, that is, so far as it must remain after the best exertion of human wisdom and means in their favor, it must be submitted to as one of the infelicities of their allotment by providence. what we are insisting on is, that since by the law of their nature there is to them the same general necessity as to any other human beings, of that which is essential to the well-being of the mind, they should be advanced in this improvement _as far as they can_; that is, as far as a wise and benevolent disposition of the community can make it practicable for them to be advanced. it is an odious hypocrisy to talk of the narrow limits to this advancement as an ordination of providence, when a well-ordered constitution and management of the community might enlarge those limits. at least it is so in the _justifiers_ of that social system: those who deplore and condemn it _may_ properly speak of the appointment of providence, but in another sense; as they would speak of the dispensations of providence in consolation to a man iniquitously imprisoned or impoverished. let the people then be advanced in the improvement of their rational nature as far as they can. a greater degree of this progress will be more for their welfare than a less. this might be shown in forms of illustration easily conceived, and as easily vindicated from the imputation of extravagance, by instances which every observer may have met with in real life. a poor man, cultivated in a small degree, has acquired a few just ideas of an important subject, which lies out of the scope of his daily employments for subsistence. be that subject what it may, if those ideas are of any use to him, by what principle would one idea more, or two, or twenty, be of _no_ use to him? of no use!--when all the thinking world knows, that every additional clear idea of a subject is valuable by a ratio of progress greater than that of the mere numerical increase, and that by a large addition of ideas a man triples the value of those with which he began. he has read a small meagre tract on the subject, or perhaps only an article in a magazine, or an essay in the literary column of a provincial newspaper. where would be the harm, on supposition he can fairly afford the time, in consequence of husbanding it for this very purpose, of his reading a well-written concise book, which would give him a clear, comprehensive view of the subject? but perhaps another branch of the tree of knowledge bends its fruit temptingly to his hand. and if he should indulge, and gain a tolerably clear notion of one more interesting subject, (still punctually regardful of the duties of his ordinary vocation,) where, we say again, is the harm? converse with him; observe his conduct; compare him with the wretched clown in a neighboring dwelling; and say that he is the worse for having thus much of the provision for a mental subsistence. but if thus much has contributed greatly to his advantage, why should he be interdicted still further attainments? are you alarmed for him, if he will needs go the length of acquiring some knowledge of geography, the solar system, and the history of his own country and of the ancient world? [footnote: these denominations of knowledge, so strange as they will to some person? appear, in such a connection, we have ventured to write from, observing that they stand in the schemes of elementary instruction in the missionary schools for the children of the natives of bengal. but of course we are to acknowledge, that the vigorous, high-toned spirits of those asiatic idolaters are adapted to receive a much superior style of cultivation to any of which the feeble progeny of england can be supposed to be capable.] let him proceed; supply him gratuitously with some of the best books on these subjects; and if you shall converse with him again, after another year or two of his progress, and compare him once more with the ignorant, stunted, cankered beings in his vicinity, you will see whether there be anything essentially at variance between his narrow circumstances in life and his mental enlargement. you are willing, perhaps, that he _should_ know a few facts of ancient times, and can, though with hesitation, trust him with some such slight stories as goldsmith's histories of greece and rome. but if he should then by some means find his way into such a work as that of rollin, (of moral and instructive tendency, however defective otherwise,) or betray that he covets an acquaintance with those of gillies, or even thirlwall,--it is all over with him for being a useful member of society in his humble situation. you would consent (may we suppose?) to his reading a slender abridgment of voyages and travels; but what _is_ to become of him if nothing less will content him than the whole-length story of captain cook? he will direct, it is to be hoped, some of his best attention to the supreme subject of religion. and you would quite approve of his perusing some useful tracts, some manuals of piety, some commentary on a catechism, some volume of serious, plain discourses; but he is absolutely undone if his ambition should rise at length to barrow, or howe, or jeremy taylor. [footnote: it should be unnecessary to observe, that the object in citing _any_ names in this paragraph was, to give a somewhat definite cast to the description of the supposed progress of the plebeian self-instructor. the principal of them are mentioned simply as being of such note in their departments, that he would be likely to hear of them among the first of the authors to be sought, if he were aspiring to something beyond his previously humble and abridged reading. the reader may substitute for these names any others, of the superior order, that he may think more proper to stand in their place. it would therefore be animadversion or ridicule misspent, to make the charge of extravagance on this imagined course of a plain man's reading, with a specific reference to the authors here named, as if it had been meant that precisely these, by a peculiar selection, were to be the authors he may be supposed to peruse, and in perusing, to waste his time and destroy his sense of duty.] he is by all means, you say, to be kept out of all such pernicious company, in which it is impossible he can learn any lesson but one,--an aversion to good morals, just laws, virtuous kings, a polished and benevolent gentry, and learned and pious teachers. well; _let_ him be kept as far as possible from the mischief of all such books and knowledge; let him hardly know that there _was_ an ancient world, or that there _are_ on the globe such regions and wonders as travellers have described; or that a reason and eloquence above the pitch of some plain homily ever illustrated and enforced religion. _let_ him keep clear of all such evil communications; and then, (since we were expressly making it a condition, that he can fairly spare the time for such reading from his common employment,) and then,--he will have just so much the more time for needless sleep, for discussing the trifles and characters of the neighborhood, or, (supposing him still of a religious habit,) for tiring his friends and family with the well-meant but very unattractive iteration of a few serious phrases and remarks, of which they will have long since learnt to anticipate the last word from hearing the first. advantages like these he certainly may enjoy in consequence of his preclusion from the higher and wider field of ideas. but however valuable these may be in themselves, they will not ensure his being better qualified for the common business and proprieties of his station, than another man in the same sphere of life whose mind has acquired that larger reach which we are describing. it is no more than what we have repeatedly seen exemplified, when we represent this transgressor into the prohibited field as probably acquitting himself with exemplary regularity and industry in his allotted labors, and even in this very capacity preferred by the men of business to the illiterate tools in his neighborhood; nay, most likely preferred, in the more technical sense of the word, to the honorable, but often sufficiently vexatious office of directing and superintending the operations of those tools. and where, now, is the evil he is incurring or causing, during this progress of violating, step after step, the circumscription by which the aristocratic compasses were again and again, with small reluctant extensions to successive greater distances, defining the scope of the knowledge proper for a man of his condition? it is a bad thing, is it, that he has a multiplicity of ideas to relieve the tedium incident to the sameness of his course of life; that, with many things which had else been but mere insignificant facts, or plain dry notions and principles, he has a variety of interesting associations; like woodbines and roses wreathing round the otherwise bare, ungraceful forms of erect stones or withered trees; that the world is an interpreted and intelligible volume before his eyes; that he has a power of applying himself to _think_ of what it becomes at any time necessary for him to understand? is it a judgment upon him for his temerity, in "seeking and intermeddling with wisdom" with which he had no business, that he has so much to impart to his children as they are growing up, and that if some of them are already come to maturity, they know not where to find a man to respect more than their father? or if he takes a part in the converse and devotional exercises of religious society, is no one there the better for the clearness and the plenitude of his thoughts and the propriety of his expression?--but there would be no end of the preposterous suppositions fairly attachable to the notion, that the mental improvement of the common people has some proper limit of arbitrary prescription, on the ground simply of their _being_ the common people, and quite distinct from the restriction which their circumstances may invincibly impose on their ability. taken in this latter view, we acknowledge that their condition would be a subject for most melancholy contemplation,--if we did not hope for better times. the benevolent reflector, when sometimes led to survey in thought the endless myriads of beings with minds within the circuit of a country like this, will have a momentary vision of them as they would be if all improved to the highest mental condition to which it is _naturally possible_ for them to be exalted a magnificent spectacle; but it instantly fades and vanishes. and the sense is so powerfully upon him of the unchangeable economy of the world, which, even if the fairest visions of the millennium itself were realized, would still render such a thing _actually_ impossible, that he hardly regrets the bright scene was but a beautiful _mirage_, and melts away. his imagination then descends to view this immense tribe of rational beings in another, and comparatively moderate state of the cultivation of their faculties, a state not one-third part so lofty as that in which he had beheld all the individuals improved to the utmost of their natural capacity; and he thinks, that the condition of man's abode on earth _might_ admit of their being raised to _this_ elevation. but he soon sees that, till a mighty change shall come on the management of the affairs of nations, this too is impossible; and with regret he sees even this inferior ideal spectacle pass away, to rest on an age in distant prospect. at last he takes his imaginary stand on what he feels to be a very low level of the supposed improvement of the general popular mind; and he says, thus much, at the least, should be a possibility allowed by the circumstances of the people under _any_ tolerable disposition of national interests;--and then he turns to look down on an actual condition in which care, and toil, and distress, render it impossible for a great proportion of the people to reach, or even approach, this his last and lowest conception of what the state of their minds ought to be. in spite of all the optimists, it _is_ a grievous reflection, after the race has had on earth so many thousands of years for attaining its most advantageous condition there, that all the experience, the philosophy, the science, the art, the power acquired by mind over matter,--that all the contributions of all departed and all present spirits and bodies, yes, and all religion too, should have come but to this;--to this, that in what is self-adulated as the most favored and improved nation of all terrestrial space and time, a vast proportion of the people are found in a condition which confines them, with all the rigor of necessity, to a mere childhood of intelligent existence, without its innocence. but at the very same time, and while the compassion rises, at such a view, there comes in on the other hand the reflection, that even in the actual state of things, there are a considerable number of the people who _might_ acquire a valuable share of improvement which they do not. great numbers of them, grown up, waste by choice, and multitudes of children waste through utter neglect, a large quantity of precious time which their narrow circumstances still leave free from the iron dominion of necessity. and they will waste it, it is certain that they will, till education shall have become general, and much more vigorous in discipline. if through a miracle there were to come down on this country, with a sudden, delightful affluence of temporal melioration, resembling the vernal transformation from the dreariness of winter, a universal prosperity, so that all should be placed in comparative ease and plenty, it would require another miracle to prevent this benignity of heaven from turning to a dreadful mischief. what would the great tribe of the uneducated people do with the half of their time, which we will suppose that such a state would give to their voluntary disposal? every one can answer infallibly, that the far greater number of them would consume it in idleness, vanity or every sort of intemperance. educate them, then, bring them under a grand process of intellectual and moral reformation;--or, in all circumstances and events, calamitous or prosperous, they are still a race made in vain! in taking leave of the subject, we wish to express, in strong terms, the applause and felicitations due to those excellent individuals, found here and there, who in very humble circumstances, and perhaps with very little advantage of education in their youth, have been excited to a strenuous, continued exertion for the improvement of their minds; and thus have made (the unfavorable situation considered,) admirable attainments, which are verifying to them that "knowledge is power," over rich resources for their own enjoyment, and are in many instances passing with inestimable worth into the instruction of their families, and a variety of usefulness within their sphere. they have nobly struggled with their threatened destiny, and have overcome it. when they think, with regret, how confined, after all, is their portion of knowledge, as compared with the possessions of those who have had from their infancy all facilities and the amplest time for its acquirement, let them be consoled by reflecting, that the value of mental progress is not to be measured solely by the quantity of knowledge possessed, but partly, and indeed still more, in the corrective, invigorating effect produced on the mental powers by the resolute exertions made in attaining it. and therefore, since, under their great disadvantages, it has required a much greater degree of this resolute exertion in them to force their way victoriously out of ignorance, than it has required in those who have had everything in their favor to make a long, free career over the field of knowledge, they may be assured they possess one greater benefit in _proportion_ to the measure of their acquirements. this persistence of a determined will to do what has been so difficult to be done, has infused a peculiar energy into the exercise of their powers; a valuable compensation, in part, for their more limited share of the advantage that one part of knowledge becomes more valuable in itself by the accession of many others. let them persevere in this worthy self-discipline, appropriate to the introductory period of an endless mental life. let them go on to complete the proof how much a mind incited to a high purpose may triumph over a depression of its external condition;--but solemnly taking care, that all their improvements may tend to such a result, that at length the rigor of their lot and the confinement of mortality itself bursting at once from around them, may give them to those intellectual revelations, that everlasting sunlight of the soul, in which the truly wise will expand all their faculties in a happier economy. the end. why go to college? an address by alice freeman palmer formerly president of wellesley college to a largely increasing number of young girls college doors are opening every year. every year adds to the number of men who feel as a friend of mine, a successful lawyer in a great city, felt when in talking of the future of his four little children he said, "for the two boys it is not so serious, but i lie down at night afraid to die and leave my daughters only a bank account." year by year, too, the experiences of life are teaching mothers that happiness does not necessarily come to their daughters when accounts are large and banks are sound, but that on the contrary they take grave risks when they trust everything to accumulated wealth and the chance of a happy marriage. our american girls themselves are becoming aware that they need the stimulus, the discipline, the knowledge, the interests of the college in addition to the school, if they are to prepare themselves for the most serviceable lives. but there are still parents who say, "there is no need that my daughter should teach; then why should she go to college?" i will not reply that college training is a life insurance for a girl, a pledge that she possesses the disciplined ability to earn a living for herself and others in case of need, for i prefer to insist on the importance of giving every girl, no matter what her present circumstances, a special training in some one thing by which she can render society service, not amateur but of an expert sort, and service too for which it will be willing to pay a price. the number of families will surely increase who will follow the example of an eminent banker whose daughters have been given each her specialty. one has chosen music, and has gone far with the best masters in this country and in europe, so far that she now holds a high rank among musicians at home and abroad. another has taken art, and has not been content to paint pretty gifts for her friends, but in the studios of new york, munich, and paris, she has won the right to be called an artist, and in her studio at home to paint portraits which have a market value. a third has proved that she can earn her living, if need be, by her exquisite jellies, preserves, and sweetmeats. yet the house in the mountains, the house by the sea, and the friends in the city are not neglected, nor are these young women found less attractive because of their special accomplishments. while it is not true that all girls should go to college any more than that all boys should go, it is nevertheless true that they should go in greater numbers than at present. they fail to go because they, their parents and their teachers, do not see clearly the personal benefits distinct from the commercial value of a college training. i wish here to discuss these benefits, these larger gifts of the college life,--what they may be, and for whom they are waiting. it is undoubtedly true that many girls are totally unfitted by home and school life for a valuable college course. these joys and successes, these high interests and friendships, are not for the self-conscious and nervous invalid, nor for her who in the exuberance of youth recklessly ignores the laws of a healthy life. the good society of scholars and of libraries and laboratories has no place and no attraction for her who finds no message in plato, no beauty in mathematical order, and who never longs to know the meaning of the stars over her head or the flowers under her feet. neither will the finer opportunities of college life appeal to one who, until she is eighteen (is there such a girl in this country?), has felt no passion for the service of others, no desire to know if through history or philosophy, or any study of the laws of society, she can learn why the world is so sad, so hard, so selfish as she finds it, even when she looks upon it from the most sheltered life. no, the college cannot be, should not try to be, a substitute for the hospital, reformatory or kindergarten. to do its best work it should be organized for the strong, not for the weak; for the high-minded, self-controlled, generous, and courageous spirits, not for the indifferent, the dull, the idle, or those who are already forming their characters on the amusement theory of life. all these perverted young people may, and often do, get large benefit and invigoration, new ideals, and unselfish purposes from their four years' companionship with teachers and comrades of a higher physical, mental, and moral stature than their own. i have seen girls change so much in college that i have wondered if their friends at home would know them,--the voice, the carriage, the unconscious manner, all telling a story of new tastes and habits and loves and interests, that had wrought out in very truth a new creature. yet in spite of this i have sometimes thought that in college more than elsewhere the old law holds, "to him that hath shall be given and he shall have abundance, but from him who hath not shall be taken away even that which he seemeth to have." for it is the young life which is open and prepared to receive which obtains the gracious and uplifting influences of college days. what, then, for such persons are the rich and abiding rewards of study in college or university? pre-eminently the college is a place of education. that is the ground of its being. we go to college to know, assured that knowledge is sweet and powerful, that a good education emancipates the mind and makes us citizens of the world. no college which does not thoroughly educate can be called good, no matter what else it does. no student who fails to get a little knowledge on many subjects, and much knowledge on some, can be said to have succeeded, whatever other advantages she may have found by the way. it is a beautiful and significant fact that in all times the years of learning have been also the years of romance. those who love girls and boys pray that our colleges may be homes of sound learning, for knowledge is the condition of every college blessing. "let no man incapable of mathematics enter here," plato is reported to have inscribed over his academy door. "let no one to whom hard study is repulsive hope for anything from us," american colleges might paraphrase. accordingly in my talk today i shall say little of the direct benefits of knowledge which the college affords. these may be assumed. it is on their account that one knocks at the college door. but seeking this first, a good many other things are added. i want to point out some of these collateral advantages of going to college, or rather to draw attention to some of the many forms in which the winning of knowledge presents itself. the first of these is happiness. everybody wants "a good time," especially every girl in her teens. a good time, it is true, does not always in these years mean what it will mean by and by, any more than the girl of eighteen plays with the doll which entranced the child of eight. it takes some time to discover that work is the best sort of play, and some people never discover it at all. but when mothers ask such questions as these: "how can i make my daughter happy?" "how can i give her the best society?" "how can she have a good time?" the answer in most cases is simple. send her to college,--to almost any college. send her because there is no other place where between eighteen and twenty-two she is so likely to have a genuinely good time. merely for good times, for romance, for society, college life offers unequalled opportunities. of course no idle person can possibly be happy, even for a day, nor she who makes a business of trying to amuse herself. for full happiness, though its springs are within, we want health and friends and work and objects of aspiration. "we live by admiration, hope, and love," says wordsworth. the college abounds in all three. in the college time new powers are sprouting, and intelligence, merriment, truthfulness and generosity are more natural than the opposite qualities often become in later years. an exhilarating atmosphere pervades the place. we who are in it all the time feel that we live at the fountain of perpetual youth, and those who take but a four years' bath in it become more cheerful, strong, and full of promise than they are ever likely to find themselves again; for a college is a kind of compendium of the things that most men long for. it is usually planted in a beautiful spot, the charm of trees and water being added to stately buildings and stimulating works of art. venerable associations of the past hallow its halls. leaders in the stirring world of to-day return at each commencement to share the fresh life of the new class. books, pictures, music, collections, appliances in every field, learned teachers, mirthful friends, athletics for holidays, the best words of the best men for holy days,--all are here. no wonder that men look back upon their college life as upon halcyon days, the romantic period of youth. no wonder that dr. holmes's poems to his harvard classmates find an echo in college reunions everywhere; and gray-haired men, who outside the narrowing circle of home have not heard their first names for years, remain bill and joe and john and george to college comrades, even if unseen for more than a generation. yet a girl should go to college not merely to obtain four happy years but to make a second gain, which is often overlooked, and is little understood even when perceived; i mean a gain in health. the old notion that low vitality is a matter of course with women; that to be delicate is a mark of superior refinement, especially in well-to-do families; that sickness is a dispensation of providence,--these notions meet with no acceptance in college. years ago i saw in the mirror frame of a college freshman's room this little formula: "sickness is carelessness, carelessness is selfishness, and selfishness is sin." and i have often noticed among college girls an air of humiliation and shame when obliged to confess a lack of physical vigor, as if they were convicted of managing life with bad judgment, or of some moral delinquency. with the spreading scientific conviction that health is a matter largely under each person's control, that even inherited tendencies to disease need not be allowed to run their riotous course unchecked, there comes an earnest purpose to be strong and free. fascinating fields of knowledge are waiting to be explored; possibilities of doing, as well as of knowing, are on every side; new and dear friendships enlarge and sweeten dreams of future study and work, and the young student cannot afford quivering nerves or small lungs or an aching head any more than bad taste, rough manners, or a weak will. handicapped by inheritance or bad training, she finds the plan of college life itself her supporter and friend. the steady, long-continued routine of mental work, physical exercise, recreation, and sleep, the simple and wholesome food, in place of irregular and unstudied diet, work out salvation for her. instead of being left to go out-of-doors when she feels like it, the regular training of the gymnasium, the boats on lake and river, the tennis court, the golf links, the basket ball, the bicycle, the long walk among the woods in search of botanical or geological specimens,--all these and many more call to the busy student, until she realizes that they have their rightful place in every well-ordered day of every month. so she learns, little by little, that buoyant health is a precious possession to be won and kept. it is significant that already statistical investigation in this country and in england shows that the standard of health is higher among the women who hold college degrees than among any other equal number of the same age and class. and it is interesting also to observe to what sort of questions our recent girl graduates have been inclined to devote attention. they have been largely the neglected problems of little children and their health, of home sanitation, of food and its choice and preparation, of domestic service, of the cleanliness of schools and public buildings. colleges for girls are pledged by their very constitution to make persistent war on the water cure, the nervine retreat, the insane asylum, the hospital,--those bitter fruits of the emotional lives of thousands of women. "i can never afford a sick headache again, life is so interesting and there is so much to do," a delicate girl said to me at the end of her first college year. and while her mother was in a far-off invalid retreat, she undertook the battle against fate with the same intelligence and courage which she put into her calculus problems and her translations of sophocles. her beautiful home and her rosy and happy children prove the measure of her hard-won success. formerly the majority of physicians had but one question for the mother of the nervous and delicate girl, "does she go to school?" and only one prescription, "take her out of school." never a suggestion as to suppers of pickles and pound-cake, never a hint about midnight dancing and hurried day-time ways. but now the sensible doctor asks, "what are her interests? what are her tastes? what are her habits?" and he finds new interests for her, and urges the formation of out-of-door tastes and steady occupation for the mind, in order to draw the morbid girl from herself into the invigorating world outside. this the college does largely through its third gift of friendship. until a girl goes away from home to school or college, her friends are chiefly chosen for her by circumstances. her young relatives, her neighbors in the same street, those who happen to go to the same school or church,--these she makes her girlish intimates. she goes to college with the entire conviction, half unknown to herself, that her father's political party contains all the honest men, her mother's social circle all the true ladies, her church all the real saints of the community. and the smaller the town, the more absolute is her belief. but in college she finds that the girl who earned her scholarship in the village school sits beside the banker's daughter; the new england farmer's child rooms next the heiress of a hawaiian sugar plantation; the daughters of the opposing candidates in a sharply fought election have grown great friends in college boats and laboratories; and before her diploma is won she realizes how much richer a world she lives in than she ever dreamed of at home. the wealth that lies in differences has dawned upon her vision. it is only when the rich and poor sit down together that either can understand how the lord is the maker of them all. to-day above all things we need the influence of men and women of friendliness, of generous nature, of hospitality to new ideas, in short, of social imagination. but instead, we find each political party bitterly calling the other dishonest, each class suspicious of the intentions of the other, and in social life the pettiest standards of conduct. is it not well for us that the colleges all over the country still offer to their fortunate students a society of the most democratic sort,--one in which a father's money, a mother's social position, can assure no distinction and make no close friends? here capacity of every kind counts for its full value. here enthusiasm waits to make heroes of those who can lead. here charming manners, noble character, amiable temper, scholarly power, find their full opportunity and inspire such friendships as are seldom made afterward. i have forgotten my chemistry, and my classical philology cannot bear examination; but all round the world there are men and women at work, my intimates of college days, who have made the wide earth a friendly place to me. of every creed, of every party, in far-away places and in near, the thought of them makes me more courageous in duty and more faithful to opportunity, though for many years we may not have had time to write each other a letter. the basis of all valuable and enduring friendships is not accident or juxtaposition, but tastes, interests, habits, work, ambitions. it is for this reason that to college friendship clings a romance entirely its own. one of the friends may spend her days in the laboratory, eagerly chasing the shy facts that hide beyond the microscope's fine vision, and the other may fill her hours and her heart with the poets and the philosophers; one may steadfastly pursue her way toward the command of a hospital, and the other towards the world of letters and of art; these divergences constitute no barrier, but rather an aid to the fulness of friendship. and the fact that one goes in a simple gown which she has earned and made herself, and the other lives when at home in a merchant's modern palace--what has that to do with the things the girls care about and the dreams they talk over in the walk by the river or the bicycle ride through country roads? if any young man to-day goes through harvard lonely, neglected, unfriended, if any girl lives solitary and wretched in her life at wellesley, it is their own fault. it must be because they are suspicious, unfriendly or disagreeable themselves. certainly it is true that in the associations of college life, more than in any other that the country can show, what is extraneous, artificial, and temporary falls away, and the every-day relations of life and work take on a character that is simple, natural, genuine. and so it comes about that the fourth gift of college life is ideals of personal character. to some people the shaping ideals of what character should be, often held unconsciously, come from the books they are given by the persons whom they most admire before they are twenty years old. the greatest thing any friend or teacher, either in school or college, can do for a student is to furnish him with a personal ideal. the college professors who transformed me through my acquaintance with them--ah, they were few, and i am sure i did not have a dozen conversations with them outside their class rooms--gave me, each in his different way, an ideal of character, of conduct, of the scholar, the leader, of which they and i were totally unconscious at the time. for many years i have known that my study with them, no matter whether of philosophy or of greek, of mathematics or history or english, enlarged my notions of life, uplifted my standards of culture, and so inspired me with new possibilities of usefulness and of happiness. not the facts and theories that i learned so much as the men who taught me, gave this inspiration. the community at large is right in saying that it wants the personal influence of professors on students, but it is wholly wrong in assuming that this precious influence comes from frequent meetings or talks on miscellaneous subjects. there is quite as likely to be a quickening force in the somewhat remote and mysterious power of the teacher who devotes himself to amassing treasures of scholarship, or to patiently working out the best methods of teaching; who standing somewhat apart, still remains an ideal of the christian scholar, the just, the courteous man or woman. to come under the influence of one such teacher is enough to make college life worthwhile. a young man who came to harvard with eighty cents in his pocket, and worked his way through, never a high scholar, and now in a business which looks very commonplace, told me the other day that he would not care to be alive if he had not gone to college. his face flushed as he explained how different his days would have been if he had not known two of his professors. "do you use your college studies in your business?" i asked. "oh, no!" he answered. "but i am another man in doing the business; and when the day's work is done i live another life because of my college experiences. the business and i are both the better for it every day." how many a young girl has had her whole horizon extended by the changed ideals she gained in college! yet this is largely because the associations and studies there are likely to give her permanent interests--the fifth and perhaps the greatest gift of college life of which i shall speak. the old fairy story which charmed us in childhood ended with--"and they were married and lived happy ever after." it conducted to the altar, having brought the happy pair through innumerable difficulties, and left us with the contented sense that all the mistakes and problems would now vanish and life be one long day of unclouded bliss. i have seen devoted and intelligent mothers arrange their young daughters' education and companionships precisely on this basis. they planned as if these pretty and charming girls were going to live only twenty or twenty-five years at the utmost, and had consequently no need of the wealthy interests that should round out the full-grown woman's stature, making her younger in feeling at forty than at twenty, and more lovely and admired at eighty than at either. emerson in writing of beauty declares that "the secret of ugliness consists not in irregular outline, but in being uninteresting. we love any forms, however ugly, from which great qualities shine. if command, eloquence, art, or invention exists in the most deformed person, all the accidents that usually displease, please, and raise esteem and wonder higher. beauty without grace is the head without the body. beauty without expression tires." of course such considerations can hardly come with full force to the young girl herself, who feels aged at eighteen, and imagines that the troubles and problems of life and thought are hers already. "oh, tell me to-night," cried a college freshman once to her president, "which is the right side and which is the wrong side of this andover question about eschatology?" the young girl is impatient of open questions, and irritated at her inability to answer them. neither can she believe that the first headlong zest with which she throws herself into society, athletics, into everything which comes in her way, can ever fail. but her elders know, looking on, that our american girl, the comrade of her parents and of her brothers and their friends, brought up from babyhood in the eager talk of politics and society, of religious belief, of public action, of social responsibility--that this typical girl, with her quick sympathies, her clear head, her warm heart, her outreaching hands, will not permanently be satisfied or self-respecting, though she have the prettiest dresses and hats in town, or the most charming of dinners, dances, and teas. unless there comes to her, and comes early, the one chief happiness of life,--a marriage of comradeship,--she must face for herself the question, "what shall i do with my life?" i recall a superb girl of twenty as i overtook her one winter morning hurrying along commonwealth avenue. she spoke of a brilliant party at a friend's the previous evening. "but, oh!" she cried, throwing up her hands in a kind of hopeless impatience, "tell me what to do. my dancing days are over!" i laughed at her, "have you sprained your ankle?" but i saw i had made a mistake when she added, "it is no laughing matter. i have been out three years. i have not done what they expected of me," with a flush and a shrug, "and there is a crowd of nice girls coming on this winter; and anyway, i am so tired of going to teas and ball-games and assemblies! i don't care the least in the world for foreign missions, and," with a stamp, "i am not going slumming among the italians. i have too much respect for the italians. and what shall i do with the rest of my life?" that was a frank statement of what any girl of brains or conscience feels, with more or less bitter distinctness, unless she marries early, or has some pressing work for which she is well trained. yet even if that which is the profession of woman par excellence be hers, how can she be perennially so interesting a companion to her husband and children as if she had keen personal tastes, long her own, and growing with her growth? indeed, in that respect the condition of men is almost the same as that of women. it would be quite the same were it not for the fact that a man's business or profession is generally in itself a means of growth, of education, of dignity. he leans his life against it. he builds his home in the shadow of it. it binds his days together in a kind of natural piety and makes him advance in strength and nobility as he "fulfils the common round, the daily task." and that is the reason why men in the past, if they have been honorable men, have grown old better than women. men usually retain their ability longer, their mental alertness and hospitality. they add fine quality to fine quality, passing from strength to strength and preserving in old age whatever has been best in youth. it was a sudden recognition of this fact which made a young friend of mine say last winter, "i am not going to parties any more; the men best worth talking with are too old to dance." even with the help of a permanent business or profession, however, the most interesting men i know are those who have an avocation as well as a vocation. i mean a taste or work quite apart from the business of life. this revives, inspires, and cultivates them perpetually. it matters little what it is, if only it is real and personal, is large enough to last, and possesses the power of growth. a young sea-captain from a new england village on a long and lonely voyage falls upon a copy of shelley. appeal is made to his fine but untrained mind, and the book of the boy poet becomes the seaman's university. the wide world of poetry and of the other fine arts is opened, and the shelleyian specialist becomes a cultivated, original, and charming man. a busy merchant loves flowers, and in all his free hours studies them. each new spring adds knowledge to his knowledge, and his friends continually bring him their strange discoveries. with growing wealth he cultivates rare and beautiful plants, and shares them with his fortunate acquaintances. happy the companion invited to a walk or a drive with such observant eyes, such vivid talk! because of this cheerful interest in flowers, and this ingenious skill in dealing with them, the man himself is interesting. all his powers are alert, and his judgment is valued in public life and in private business. or is it more exact to say that because he is the kind of man who would insist upon having such interests outside his daily work, he is still fresh and young and capable of growth at an age when many other men are dull and old and certain that the time of decay is at hand? there are two reasons why women need to cultivate these large and abiding interests even more persistently than men. in the first place, they have more leisure. they are indeed the only leisure class in the country, the only large body of persons who are not called upon to win their daily bread in direct wage-earning ways. as yet, fortunately, few men among us have so little self-respect as to idle about our streets and drawing-rooms because their fathers are rich enough to support them. we are not without our unemployed poor; but roving tramps and idle clubmen are after all not of large consequence. our serious, non-producing classes are chiefly women. it is the regular ambition of the chivalrous american to make all the women who depend on him so comfortable that they need do nothing for themselves. machinery has taken nearly all the former occupations of women out of the home into the shop and factory. widespread wealth and comfort, and the inherited theory that it is not well for the woman to earn money so long as father or brothers can support her, have brought about a condition of things in which there is social danger, unless with the larger leisure are given high and enduring interests. to health especially there is great danger, for nothing breaks down a woman's health like idleness and its resulting ennui. more people, i am sure, are broken down nervously because they are bored, than because they are overworked; and more still go to pieces through fussiness, unwholesome living, worry over petty details, and the daily disappointments which result from small and superficial training. and then, besides the danger to health, there is the danger to character. i need not dwell on the undermining influence which men also feel when occupation is taken away and no absorbing private interest fills the vacancy. the vices of luxurious city life are perhaps hardly more destructive to character than is the slow deterioration of barren country life. though the conditions in the two cases are exactly opposite, the trouble is often the same,--absence of noble interests. in the city restless idleness organizes amusement; in the country deadly dulness succeeds daily toil. but there is a second reason why a girl should acquire for herself strong and worthy interests. the regular occupations of women in their homes are generally disconnected and of little educational value, at least as those homes are at present conducted. given the best will in the world, the daily doing of household details becomes a wearisome monotony if the mere performance of them is all. to make drudgery divine a woman must have a brain to plan and eyes to see how to "sweep a room as to god's laws." imagination and knowledge should be the hourly companions of her who would make a fine art of each detail in kitchen and nursery. too long has the pin been the appropriate symbol of the average woman's life--the pin, which only temporarily holds together things which may or may not have any organic connection with one another. while undoubtedly most women must spend the larger part of life in this modest pin-work, holding together the little things of home and school and society and church, it is also true, that cohesive work itself cannot be done well, even in humble circumstances, except by the refined, the trained, the growing woman. the smallest village, the plainest home, give ample space for the resources of the trained college woman. and the reason why such homes and such villages are so often barren of grace and variety is just because these fine qualities have not ruled them. the higher graces of civilization halt among us; dainty and finished ways of living give place to common ways, while vulgar tastes, slatternly habits, clouds and despondency reign in the house. little children under five years of age die in needless thousands because of the dull, unimaginative women on whom they depend. such women have been satisfied with just getting along, instead of packing everything they do with brains, instead of studying the best possible way of doing everything small or large; for there is always a best way, whether of setting a table, of trimming a hat, or teaching a child to read. and this taste for perfection can be cultivated; indeed, it must be cultivated, if our standards of living are to be raised. there is now scientific knowledge enough, there is money enough, to prevent the vast majority of the evils which afflict our social organism, if mere knowledge or wealth could avail; but the greater difficulty is to make intelligence, character, good taste, unselfishness prevail. what, then, are the interests which powerfully appeal to mind and heart, and so are fitted to become the strengthening companions of a woman's life? i shall mention only three, all of them such as are elaborately fostered by college life. the first is the love of great literature. i do not mean that use of books by which a man may get what is called a good education and so be better qualified for the battle of life, nor do i mention books in their character as reservoirs of knowledge, books which we need for special purposes, and which are no longer of consequence when our purpose with them is served. i have in mind the great books, especially the great poets, books to be adopted as a resource and a solace. the chief reason why so many people do not know how to make comrades of such books is because they have come to them too late. we have in this country enormous numbers of readers, probably a larger number who read, and who read many hours in the week, than has ever been known elsewhere in the world. but what do these millions read besides the newspapers? possibly a denominational religious weekly and another journal of fashion or business. then come the thousands who read the best magazines, and whatever else is for the moment popular in novels and poetry--the last dialect story, the fashionable poem, the questionable but talked-of novel. let a violent attack be made on the decency of a new story and instantly, if only it is clever, its author becomes famous. but the fashions in reading of a restless race--the women too idle, the men too heavily worked--i will not discuss here. let light literature be devourered by our populace as his drug is taken by the opium-eater, and with a similar narcotic effect. we can only seek out the children, and hope by giving them from babyhood bits of the noblest literature, to prepare them for the great opportunities of mature life. i urge, therefore, reading as a mental stimulus, as a solace in trouble, a perpetual source of delight; and i would point out that we must not delay to make the great friendships that await us on the library shelves until sickness shuts the door on the outer world, or death enters the home and silences the voices that once helped to make these friendships sweet. if homer and shakespeare and wordsworth and browning are to have meaning for us when we need them most, it will be because they come to us as old familiar friends whose influences have permeated the glad and busy days before. the last time i heard james russell lowell talk to college girls, he said,--for he was too ill to say many words--"i have only this one message to leave with you. in all your work in college never lose sight of the reason why you have come here. it is not that you may get something by which to earn your bread, but that every mouthful of bread may be the sweeter to your taste." and this is the power possessed by the mighty dead,--men of every time and nation, whose voices death cannot silence, who are waiting even at the poor man's elbow, whose illuminating words may be had for the price of a day's work in the kitchen or the street, for lack of love of whom many a luxurious home is a dull and solitary spot, breeding misery and vice. now the modern college is especially equipped to introduce its students to such literature. the library is at last understood to be the heart of the college. the modern librarian is not the keeper of books, as was his predecessor, but the distributer of them, and the guide to their resources, proud when he increases the use of his treasures. every language, ancient or modern, which contains a literature is now taught in college. its history is examined, its philology, its masterpieces, and more than ever is english literature studied and loved. there is now every opportunity for the college student to become an expert in the use of his own tongue and pen. what other men painfully strive for he can enjoy to the full with comparatively little effort. but there is a second invigorating interest to which college training introduces its student. i mean the study of nature, intimacy with the strange and beautiful world in which we live. "nature never did betray the heart that loved her," sang her poet high priest. when the world has been too much with us, nothing else is so refreshing to tired eyes and mind as woods and water, and an intelligent knowledge of the life within them. for a generation past there has been a well-nigh universal turning of the population toward the cities. in only nine per cent of our people lived in cities of , inhabitants or more. now more than a third of us are found in cities. but the electric-car, the telephone, the bicycle, still keep avenues to the country open. certain it is that city people feel a growing hunger for the country, particularly when grass begins to grow. this is a healthy taste, and must increase the general knowledge and love of nature. fortunate are the little children in those schools whose teachers know and love the world in which they live. their young eyes are early opened to the beauty of birds and trees and plants. not only should we expect our girls to have a feeling for the fine sunset or the wide-reaching panorama of field and water, but to know something also about the less obvious aspects of nature, its structure, its methods of work, and the endless diversity of its parts. no one can have read matthew arnold's letters to his wife, his mother, and his sister, without being struck by the immense enjoyment he took throughout his singularly simple and hard-working life in flowers and trees and rivers. the english lake country had given him this happy inheritance, with everywhere its sound of running water and its wealth of greenery. there is a close connection between the marvellous unbroken line of english song, and the passionate love of the englishman for a home in the midst of birds, trees, and green fields. "the world is so full of a number of things, that i think we should all be as happy as kings," is the opinion of everybody who knows nature as did robert louis stevenson. and so our college student may begin to know it. let her enter the laboratories and investigate for herself. let her make her delicate experiments with the blowpipe or the balance; let her track mysterious life from one hiding-place to another; let her "name all the birds without a gun," and make intimates of flower and fish and butterfly--and she is dull indeed if breezy tastes do not follow her through life, and forbid any of her days to be empty of intelligent enjoyment. "keep your years beautiful; make your own atmosphere," was the parting advice of my college president, himself a living illustration of what he said. but it is a short step from the love of the complex and engaging world in which we live to the love of our comrades in it. accordingly the third precious interest to be cultivated by the college student is an interest in people. the scholar today is not a being who dwells apart in his cloister, the monk's successor; he is a leader of the thoughts and conduct of men. so the new subjects which stand beside the classics and mathematics of medieval culture are history, economics, ethics, and sociology. although these subjects are as yet merely in the making, thousands of students are flocking to their investigation, and are going out to try their tentative knowledge in college settlements and city missions and children's aid societies. the best instincts of generous youth are becoming enlisted in these living themes. and why should our daughters remain aloof from the most absorbing work of modern city life, work quite as fascinating to young women as to young men? during many years of listening to college sermons and public lectures in wellesley, i always noticed a quickened attention in the audience whenever the discussion touched politics or theology. these are, after all, the permanent and peremptory interests, and they should be given their full place in a healthy and vigorous life. but if that life includes a love of books, of nature, of people, it will naturally turn to enlarged conceptions of religion--my sixth and last gift of college life. in his first sermon as master of balliol college, dr. jowett spoke of the college, "first as a place of education, secondly as a place of society, thirdly as a place of religion." he observed that "men of very great ability often fail in life because they are unable to play their part with effect. they are shy, awkward, self-conscious, deficient in manners, faults which are as ruinous as vices." the supreme end of college training, he said, "is usefulness in after life." similarly, when the city of cambridge celebrated in harvard's memorial hall the life and death of the gallant young ex-governor of massachusetts, william e. russell, men did well to hang above his portrait some wise words he has lately said, "never forget the everlasting difference between making a living and making a life." that he himself never forgot; and it was well to remind citizens and students of it, as they stood there facing too the ancient words all harvard men face when they take their college degrees and go out into the world, "they that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament, and they that turn many to righteousness as the stars for ever and ever." good words these to go out from college with. the girls of wellesley gather every morning at chapel to bow their heads together for a moment before they scatter among the libraries and lecture-rooms and begin the experiments of the new day. and always their college motto meets the eyes that are raised to its penetrating message, "not to be ministered unto, but to minister." how many a young heart has loyally responded, "and to give life a ransom for many." that is the "wellesley spirit;" and the same sweet spirit of devout service has gone forth from all our college halls. in any of them one may catch the echo of whittier's noble psalm,-- "o lord and master of us all whate'er our name or sign, we own thy sway, we hear thy call, we test our lives by thine." that is the supreme test of life,--its consecrated serviceableness. the master of balliol was right; the brave men and women who founded our schools and colleges were not wrong. "for christ and the church" universities were set up in the wilderness of new england; for the large service of the state they have been founded and maintained at public cost in every section of the country where men have settled, from the alleghanies across the prairies and rocky mountains down to the golden gate. founded primarily as seats of learning, their teachers have been not only scientists and linguists, philosophers and historians, but men and women of holy purposes, sound patriotism, courageous convictions, refined and noble tastes. set as these teachers have been upon a hill, their light has at no period of our country's history been hid. they have formed a large factor in our civilization, and in their own beautiful characters have continually shown us how to combine religion and life, the ideal and practical, the human and the divine. such are some of the larger influences to be had from college life. it is true all the good gifts i have named may be secured without the aid of the college. we all know young men and women who have had no college training, who are as cultivated, rational, resourceful, and happy as any people we know, who excel in every one of these particulars the college graduates about them. i believe they often bitterly regret the lack of a college education. and we see young men and women going through college deaf and blind to their great chances there, and afterwards curiously careless and wasteful of the best things in life. while all this is true, it is true too that to the open-minded and ambitious boy or girl of moderate health, ability, self-control, and studiousness, a college course offers the most attractive, easy, and probable way of securing happiness and health, good friends and high ideals, permanent interests of a noble kind, and large capacity for usefulness in the world. it has been well said that the ability to see great things large and little things small is the final test of education. the foes of life, especially of women's lives, are caprice, wearisome incapacity and petty judgments. from these oppressive foes we long to escape to the rule of right reason, where all things are possible, and life becomes a glory instead of a grind. no college, with the best teachers and collections in the world, can by its own power impart all this to any woman. but if one has set her face in that direction, where else can she find so many hands reached out to help, so many encouraging voices in the air, so many favoring influences filling the days and nights? team. education as service by j. krishnamurti (alcyone) the rajput press chicago education as service introduction in long past lives the author of this little book had much to do with educational work, and he seems to have brought over with him an intense interest in education. during his short visits to benares, he paid an alert attention to many of the details of the work carried on in the central hindu college, observing and asking questions, noting the good feeling between teachers and students, so different from his own school experiences in southern india. he appears to have been brooding over the question, and has, in this booklet, held up the educational ideals which appear to him to be necessary for the improvement of the present system. the position of the teacher must be raised to that which it used to occupy in india, so that to sit in the teacher's chair will be a badge of social honour. his work must be seen as belonging to the great teaching department in the government of our world, and his relation with his pupils must be a copy of the relation between a master and his disciples. love, protective and elevating on the one side, must be met with love, confiding and trustful on the other. this is, in truth, the old hindu ideal, exaggerated as it may seem to be to-day and if it be possible, in any country to rebuild this ideal, it should be by an indian for indians. hence there is, at the back of the author's mind, a dream of a future college and school, wherein this ideal may be materialised--a theosophical college and school, because the ancient indian ideals now draw their life from theosophy which alone can shape the new vessels for the ancient elixir of life punishment must disappear--not only the old brutality of the cane, but all the forms of coercion that make hypocrites instead of honourable and manly youths. the teacher must embody the ideal, and the boy be drawn, by admiration and love, to copy it. those who know how swiftly the unspoiled child responds to a noble ideal will realise how potent may be the influence of a teacher, who stimulates by a high example and rules by the sceptre of love instead of by the rod of fear. besides, the one life is in teacher and taught, as alcyone reminds us, and to that life, which is divine, all things are possible. education must be shaped to meet the individual needs of the child, and not by a government procrustes' bed, to fit which some are dragged well-nigh asunder and others are chopped down. the capacities of the child, the line they fit him to pursue, these must guide his education. in all, the child's interest must be paramount; the true teacher exists to serve. the school must be a centre of good and joyous influences, radiating from it to the neighbourhood. studies and games must all be turned to the building of character, to the making of the good citizen, the lover of his country. thus dreams the boy, who is to become a teacher, of the possibilities the future may unfold. may he realise, in the strength of a noble manhood, the pure visions of his youth, and embody a power which shall make earth's deserts rejoice and blossom as the rose. annie besant. to the supreme teacher and to those who follow him foreword many of the suggestions made in this little book come from my own memories of early school life; and my own experience since of the methods used in occult training has shown me how much happier boys' lives might be made than they usually are. i have myself experienced both the right way of teaching and the wrong way, and therefore i want to help others towards the right way. i write upon the subject because it is one which is very near to the heart of my master, and much of what i say is but an imperfect echo of what i have heard from him. then again, during the last two years, i have seen much of the work done in the central hindu college at benares by mr. g.s. arundale and his devoted band of helpers. i have seen teachers glad to spend their time and energies in continual service of those whom they regard as their younger brothers. i have also watched the boys, in their turn, showing a reverence and an affectionate gratitude to their teachers that i had never thought possible. though many people may think the ideals put forward are entirely beyond the average teacher, and cannot be put into practice in ordinary schools, i can thus point at least to one institution in which i have seen many of the suggestions made in this book actually carried out. it may be that some of them _are_, at present, beyond most schools; but they will be recognised and practised as soon as teachers realise them as desirable, and have a proper understanding of the importance of their office. most of the recommendations apply, i think, to all countries, and to all religions, and are intended to sound the note of our common brotherhood, irrespective of religion or caste, race or colour. if the unity of life and the oneness of its purpose could be clearly taught to the young in schools, how much brighter would be our hopes for the future! the mutual distrust of races and nations would disappear, if the children were trained in mutual love and sympathy as members of one great family of children all over the world, instead of being taught to glory only in their own traditions and to despise those of others. true patriotism is a beautiful quality in children, for it means unselfishness of purpose and enthusiasm for great ideals; but that is false patriotism which shows itself in contempt for other nations. there are, i am told, many organisations within the various nations of the world, intended to inspire the children with a love for their country and a desire to serve her, and that is surely good; but i wonder when there will be an international organisation to give the children of all nations common ideals also, and a knowledge of the real foundation of right action, the brotherhood of man. i desire to thank my dear mother, mrs. annie besant, for the help she has given me while i have been writing this little book, and also my dear friend, mr. g.s. arundale--with whom i have often talked on the subject--for many useful suggestions. j. krishnamurti. contents the teacher i. love ii. discrimination iii. desirelessness iv. good conduct . self-control as to the mind . self-control in action . tolerance . cheerfulness . one-pointedness . confidence the teacher in _at the feet of the master_ i have written down the instructions given to me by my master in preparing me to learn how best to be useful to those around me. all who have read the book will know how inspiring the master's words are, and how they make each person who reads them long to train himself for the service of others. i know myself how much i have been helped by the loving care of those to whom i look for guidance, and i am eager to pass on to others the help i have obtained from them. it seems to me that the master's instructions can be universally applied. they are useful not only to those who are definitely trying to tread the path which leads to initiation, but also to all who, while still doing the ordinary work of the world, are anxious to do their duty earnestly and unselfishly. one of the noblest forms of work is that of the teacher; let us see what light is thrown upon it by the words of the master. i will take the four qualifications which have been given in _at the feet of the master_, and will try to show how they can be applied to the life of the teacher and of the students, and to the relations which should exist between them. the most important qualification in education is love, and i will take that first. it is sad that in modern days the office of a teacher has not been regarded as on a level with other learned professions. any one has been thought good enough to be a teacher, and as a result little honour has been paid to him. naturally, therefore, the cleverest boys are not drawn towards that profession. but really the office of the teacher is the most sacred and the most important to the nation, because it builds the characters of the boys and girls who will be its future citizens. in olden days this office was thought so holy that only priests were teachers and the school was a part of the temple. in india the trust in the teacher was so great that the parents gave over their sons completely to him for many years, and teacher and students lived together as a family. because this happy relation should be brought back again, i put love first among the qualifications which a teacher ought to have. if india is to become again the great nation which we all hope to see, this old happy relation must be re-established. i. love my master taught me that love will enable a man to acquire all other qualities and that "all the rest without it would never be sufficient." therefore no person ought to be a teacher--ought to be allowed to be a teacher--unless he has shown in his daily life that love is the strongest quality of his nature. it may be asked: how are we to find out whether a person possesses love to a sufficient degree to make him worthy to be a teacher? just as a boy shows his natural capacities at an early age for one profession or another, so a particularly strong love-nature would mark a boy out as specially fitted to be an instructor. such boys should be definitely trained for the office of the teacher just as boys are trained for other professions. boys who are preparing for all careers live a common life in the same school, and they can only become useful to the nation as men, if their school life is happy. a young child is naturally happy, and if that happiness is allowed to go on and grow in the school, and at home, then he will become a man who will make others happy. a teacher full of love and sympathy will attract the boys and make their school life a pleasant one. my master once said that "children are very eager to learn and if a teacher cannot interest them and make them love their lessons, he is not fit to be a teacher and should choose another profession." he has said also: "those who are mine love to teach and to serve. they long for an opportunity of service as a hungry man longs for food, and they are always watching for it. their hearts are so full of the divine love that it must be always overflowing in love for those around them. only such are fit to be teachers--those to whom teaching is not only a holy and imperative duty, but also the greatest of pleasures." a sympathetic teacher draws out all the good qualities in his pupils, and his gentleness prevents them from being afraid of him. each boy then shows himself just as he is, and the teacher is able to see the line best suited to him and to help him to follow it. to such a teacher a boy will come with all his difficulties, knowing that he will be met with sympathy and kindness, and, instead of hiding his weaknesses, he will be glad to tell everything to one of whose loving help he is sure. the good teacher remembers his own youth, and so can feel with the boy who comes to him. my master said: "he who has forgotten his childhood and lost sympathy with the children is not a man who can teach them or help them." this love of the teacher for his pupil, protecting and helping him, will bring out love from the pupil in turn, and as he looks up to his teacher this love will take the form of reverence. reverence, beginning in this way with the boy, will grow as he grows older, and will become the habit of seeing and reverencing greatness, and so perhaps in time may lead him to the feet of the master. the love of the boy to the teacher will make him docile and easy to guide, and so the question of punishment will never arise. thus one great cause of fear which at present poisons all the relations between the teacher and his pupil will vanish. those of us who have the happiness of being pupils of the true masters know what this relation ought to be. we know the wonderful patience, gentleness and sympathy with which they always meet us, even when we may have made mistakes or have been weak. yet there is much more difference between them and us than between the ordinary teacher and his pupil. when the teacher has learned to look upon his office as dedicating him to the service of the nation, as the master has dedicated himself to the service of humanity, then he will become part of the great teaching department of the world, to which belongs my own beloved master--the department of which the supreme teacher of gods and men is the august head. it may be said that many boys could not be managed in this way. the answer is that such boys have been already spoiled by bad treatment. even so, they must be slowly improved by greater patience and constant love. this plan has already proved successful when tried. living in this atmosphere of love during school hours, the boy will become a better son and a better brother at home, and will bring home with him a feeling of life and vigour, instead of coming home, as he generally does now, depressed and tired. when he, in turn, becomes the head of a household, he will fill it with the love in which he has been brought up, and so the happiness will go on spreading and increasing, generation after generation. such a boy when he becomes a father, will not look on his son, as so many do now, from a purely selfish point of view, as though he were merely a piece of property--as though the son existed for the sake of the father. some parents seem to regard their children only as a means of increasing the prosperity and reputation of the family by the professions which they may adopt or the marriages that they may make, without considering in the least the wishes of the children themselves. the wise father will consult his boy as a friend, will take pains to find out what his wishes are, and will help him with his greater experience to carry out those wishes wisely, remembering always that his son is an ego who has come to the father to give him the opportunity of making good karma by aiding the son in his progress. he will never forget that though his son's body may be young, the soul within is as old as his own, and must therefore be treated with respect as well as affection. love both at home and in the school will naturally show itself in continual small acts of service, and these will form a habit out of which will grow the larger and more heroic acts of service which makes the greatness of a nation. the master speaks much on cruelty as a sin against love, and distinguishes between intentional and unintentional cruelty. he says: "intentional cruelty is purposely to give pain to another living being; and that is the greatest of all sins--the work of a devil rather than a man." the use of the cane must be classed under this, for he says of intentional cruelty: "many schoolmasters do it habitually." we must also include all words and acts _intended_ to wound the feelings of the boy and to hurt his self-respect. in some countries corporal punishment is forbidden, but in most it is still the custom. but my master said: "these people try to excuse their brutality by saying that it is the custom; but a crime does not cease to be a crime because many commit it. karma takes no account of custom; and the karma of cruelty is the most terrible of all. in india at least there can be no excuse for such customs, for the duty of harmlessness is well known to all." the whole idea of what is called "punishment" is not only wrong but foolish. a teacher who tries to frighten his boys into doing what he wishes does not see that they only obey him while he is there, and that as soon as they are out of his sight they will pay no attention to his rules, or even take a pleasure in breaking them because they dislike him. but if he draws them to do what he wants because they love him and wish to please him, they will keep his rules even in his absence, and so make his work much easier. instead of developing fear and dislike in the characters of the boys, the wise teacher will gain his ends by calling forth from them love and devotion; and so will strengthen all that is good in them, and help them on the road of evolution. again, the idea of expulsion, of getting rid of a troublesome boy instead of trying to improve him, is wrong. even when, for the sake of his companions, a boy has to be separated from them, the good of the boy himself must not be forgotten. in fact, all through, school discipline should be based on the good of the boys and not on the idea of saving trouble to the teacher. the loving teacher does not mind the trouble. unintentional cruelty often comes from mere thoughtlessness, and the teacher should be very careful not to be cruel in words or actions from want of thought. teachers often cause pain by hasty words uttered at a time when they have been disturbed by some outside annoyance, or are trying to attend to some important duty. the teacher may forget the incident or pass it over as trivial, but in many such cases a sensitive boy has been wounded, and he broods over the words and ends by imagining all sorts of foolish exaggerations. in this way many misunderstandings arise between teachers and boys, and though the boys must learn to be patient and generous, and to realise that the teacher is anxious to help all as much as he can, the teacher in his turn must always be on the alert to watch his words, and to allow nothing but gentleness to shine out from his speech and actions, however busy he may be. if the teacher is always gentle to the boys, who are younger and weaker than himself, it will be easy for him to teach them the important lesson of kindness to little children, animals, birds and other living creatures. the older boys, who themselves are gentle and tactful, should be encouraged to observe the condition of the animals they see in the streets, and if they see any act of cruelty, to beg the doer of it very politely and gently, to treat the animal more kindly. the boys should be taught that nothing which involves the hunting and killing of animals should be called sport. that word ought to be kept for manly games and exercises, and not used for the wounding and killing of animals. my master says: "the fate of the cruel must fall also upon all who go out intentionally to kill god's creatures and call it sport." i do not think that teachers realise the harm and the suffering caused by gossip, which the master calls a sin against love. teachers should be very careful not to make difficulties for their boys by gossiping about them. no boy should ever be allowed to have a bad name in the school, and it should be the rule that no one may speak ill of any other member of the school whether teacher or boy. my master points out that by talking about a person's faults, we not only strengthen those faults in him, but also fill our own minds with evil thoughts. there is only one way of really getting rid of our lower nature, and that is by strengthening the higher. and while it is the duty of the teacher to understand the weaknesses of those placed in his charge he must realise that he will destroy the lower nature only by surrounding the boy with his love, thus stimulating the higher and nobler qualities till there is no place left for the weaknesses. the more the teacher gossips about the faults of the boys, the more harm he does, and, except during a consultation with his fellow teachers as to the best methods of helping individual boys out of their weaknesses, he should never talk about a boy's defects. the boys must also be taught the cruelty of gossip among themselves. i know many a boy whose life at school has been made miserable because his companions have been thoughtless and unkind, and the teacher either has not noticed his unhappiness, or has not understood how to explain to the boys the nature of the harm they were doing. boys frequently take hold of some peculiarity in speech or in dress, or of some mistake which has been made, and, not realising the pain they cause, carelessly torture their unfortunate schoolfellow with unkind allusions. in this case the mischief is due chiefly to ignorance, and if the teacher has influence over the boys, and gently explains to them what pain they are giving they will quickly stop. they must be taught, too, that nothing which causes suffering or annoyance to another can ever be the right thing to do, nor can it ever be amusing to any right-minded boy. some children seem to find pleasure in teasing or annoying others, but that is only because they are ignorant. when they understand, they will never again be so unbrotherly. in every class-room these words of my master should be put up in a prominent place: "never speak ill of any one; refuse to listen when anyone else speaks ill of another, but gently say: 'perhaps this is not true, and even if it is, it is kinder not to speak of it.'" there are crimes against love which are not recognised as crimes, and which are unfortunately very common. a teacher must use discretion in dealing with these, but should teach a doctrine of love so far as he is permitted, and may at least set a good example himself. three of these are put by my master under the head of cruelties caused by superstition. . animal sacrifice. among civilised nations this is now found only in india, and is tending to disappear even there. parents and teachers should tell their boys that no custom which is cruel is really part of any true religion. for we have seen that religion teaches unity, and therefore kindness and gentleness to everything that feels. god cannot therefore be served by cruelty and the killing of helpless creatures. if indian boys learn this lesson of love in school they will, when they become men, put an end entirely to this cruel superstition. . much more widely spread is what my master calls "the still more cruel superstition that man needs flesh for food." this is a matter that concerns the parent more than the teacher, but at least the teacher may gradually lead his boys to see the cruelty involved in killing animals for food. then, even if the boy is obliged to eat meat at home, he will give it up when he is a man, and will give his own children a better opportunity than he himself had. if parents at home and teachers at school would train young children in the duty of loving and protecting all living creatures, the world would be much happier than it is at present. . "the treatment which superstition has meted out to the depressed classes in our beloved india," says the master, is a proof that "this evil quality can breed heartless cruelty even among those who know the duty of brotherhood." to get rid of this form of cruelty every boy must be taught the great lesson of love, and much can be done for this in school as well as at home. the boy at school has many special opportunities of learning this lesson, and the teacher should point out the duty of showing courtesy and kindness to all who are in inferior positions, as well as to the poor whom he may meet outside. all who know the truth of reincarnation should realise that they are members of one great family, in which some are younger brethren and some elder. boys must be taught to show gentleness and consideration to servants, and to all who are below them in social position; caste was not intended to promote pride and rudeness, and manu teaches that servants should be treated as the children of the family. a great part of the teacher's work lies in the playground, and the teacher who does not play with his boys will never quite win their hearts. indian boys as a rule do not play enough, and time should be given for games during the school day. even the teachers who have not learned to play in their youth should come to the playground and show interest in the games, thus sharing in this part of the boy's education. in schools where there are boarding-houses the love of the teacher is especially necessary, for in them the boarding-house must take the place of the home, and a family feeling must be created there. bright and affectionate teachers will be looked on as elder brothers, and difficulties which escape rules will be got rid of by love. in fact, all the many activities of school life should be made into channels through which affection can run between teacher and pupil, and the more channels there are the better it will be for both. as the boy grows older these channels will naturally become more numerous, and the love of the school will become the friendship of manhood. thus love will have her perfect work. love on the physical plane has many forms. we have the love of husband and wife, parents and children, brothers and sisters, the affection between relatives and friends. but all these are blended and enriched in the love of the master to his disciple. the master gives to his pupil the gentleness and protection of a mother, the strength of a father, the understanding of a brother or a sister, the encouragement of a relative or a friend, and he is one with his pupil and his pupil is a part of him. besides this, the master knows his pupil's past, and his pupil's future, and guides him through the present from the past into the future. the pupil knows but little beyond the present, and he does not understand that great love which draws its inspiration from the memory of the past and shapes itself to mould the powers of the future. he may even sometimes doubt the wisdom of the love which guides itself according to a pattern which his eyes cannot see. that which i have said above may seem a very high ideal for the relation between a teacher and pupil down here. yet the difference between them is less than the difference between a master and his disciple. the lower relation should be a faint reflection of the higher, and at least the teacher may set the higher before himself as an ideal. such an ideal will lift all his work into a higher world, and all school life will be made happier and better because the teacher has set it before him. ii. discrimination the next very necessary qualification for the teacher is discrimination. my master said that the most important knowledge was "the knowledge of god's plan for men, for god has a plan, and that plan is evolution." each boy has his own place in evolution, and the teacher must try to see what that place is, and how he can best help the boy in that place. this is what the hindus call dharma, and it is the teacher's duty to find out the boy's dharma and to help him to fulfil it. in other words, the teaching given to the boy should be that which is suitable for him, and the teacher must use discrimination in choosing the teaching, and in his way of giving it. under these conditions, the boy's progress would be following out the tendencies made in past lives, and would really be remembering the things he knew before. "the method of evolution," as a great master said, "is a constant dipping down into matter under the law of readjustment," _i.e._ by reincarnation and karma. unless the teacher knows these truths, he cannot work with evolution as he should do, and much of his time and of his pupil's time will be wasted. it is this ignorance which causes such small results to be seen, after many years at school, and which leaves the boy himself so ignorant of the great truths which he needs to guide his conduct in life. discrimination is wanted in the choice of subjects and in the way in which they are taught. first in importance come religion and morals, and these must not only be taught as subjects but must be made both the foundation and the atmosphere of school life, for these are equally wanted by every boy, no matter what he is to do later in life. religion teaches us that we are all part of one self, and that we ought therefore help one another. my master said that people "try to invent ways for themselves which they think will be pleasant for themselves, not understanding that all are one, and that therefore only what the one wills can ever be really pleasant for anyone." and he also said: "you can help your brother through that which you have in common with him, and that is the divine life." to teach this is to teach religion, and to live it is to lead the religious life. at present the value of the set moral teaching is largely made useless by the arrangements of the school. the school day should always open with something of the nature of a religious service, striking the note of a common purpose and a common life, so that the boys, who are all coming from different homes and different ways of living may be tuned to unity in the school. it is a good plan to begin with a little music or singing so that the boys, who often come rushing in from hastily taken food, may quiet down and begin the school day in an orderly way. after this should come a prayer and a very short but beautiful address, placing an ideal before the boys. but if these ideals are to be useful, they must be practised all through the school day, so that the spirit of the religious period may run through the lessons and the games. for example, the duty of the strong to help the weak is taught in the religious hour, and yet for the rest of the day the strong are set to outstrip the weak, and are given valuable prizes for their success in doing so. these prizes make many boys jealous and discourage others, they stimulate the spirit of struggle. the central hindu college brotherhood has for its motto: "the ideal reward is an increased power to love and to serve." if the prizes for good work and conduct and for helping others were positions of greater trust and power of helping, this motto would be carried out. in fact, in school honour should be given to character and helpfulness rather than to strength of mind and body; strength ought to be trained and developed, but not rewarded for merely outstripping the weak. such a school life will send out into the world men who will think more of filling places of usefulness to the nation than of merely gaining money and power for themselves. an important part of moral teaching lies in the training of the boy in patriotism--love of country. the above plan of teaching the boy to be of service in the little family of the school, will naturally widen out into service in the large family of the nation. this will also influence the boy in his choice of a profession, for he will think of the nation as his family, and will try to fill a useful place in the national life. but great care must be taken in teaching patriotism not to let the boys slip into hatred of other nations, as so often happens. this is especially important in india, where both indian and english teachers should try to make good feeling between the two races living side by side, so that they may join in common work for the one empire. discrimination may also be shown in the arrangement of lessons, the most difficult subjects being taken early in the day, as far as possible. for even with the best and most carefully arranged teaching a boy will be more tired at the end of the school day than at the beginning. discrimination is also wanted in the method of teaching, and in the amount of time given to mental and physical education. the care of the body and its development are of the first importance, for without a healthy body all teaching is wasted. it should be remembered that the boy can go on, learning all his life, if he is wise enough to wish to do so; but it is only during the years of growth that he can build up a healthy physical body in which to spend that life. therefore during those early years the healthy development of that physical body must be absolutely the first consideration, and anything that cannot be learned compatibly with that must for the time remain unlearned. the strain on the boy's mind--and particularly on those of very young boys--is far too great and lasts far too long; the lesson period should be broken up, and the teacher should be very careful to watch the boys and to see that they do not become tired. his wish to prevent this strain will make him think out new ways of teaching, which will make the lessons very interesting; for a boy who is interested does not easily become tired. i myself remember how tired we used to be when we reached home, far too tired to do anything but lie about. but the indian boy is not allowed to rest even when he comes home, for he has then to begin home lessons, often with a tutor, when he ought to be at rest or play. these home lessons begin again in the morning, before he goes to school, and the result is that he looks on his lessons as a hardship instead of a pleasure. much of this homework is done by a very bad light and the boy's eyes suffer much. all home lessons should be abolished; home work burns the candle at both ends, and makes the boy's life a slavery. school hours are quite long enough, and an intelligent teacher can impart in them quite as much as any boy ought to learn in one day. what cannot be taught within those hours should be postponed until the next day. we see the result of all this overstrain in the prevalence of eye-diseases in india. western countries set us a good example in the physical training of their boys, who leave school strong and healthy. i have heard in england that in the poorer schools the children are often inspected by a doctor so that any eye-disease or other defect is found out at once before it becomes serious. i wonder how many boys in india are called stupid merely because they are suffering from some eye or ear trouble. discrimination should also be shown in deciding the length of the waking and sleeping times. these vary, of course, with age and to some extent perhaps with temperament. no boy should have less than nine or ten hours of sleep; when growth ceases, eight hours would generally be enough. a boy grows most during his sleep, so that the time is not in the least wasted. few people realise how much a boy is affected by his surroundings, by the things on which his eyes are continually resting. the emotions and the mind are largely trained through the eye, and bare walls, or, still worse, ugly pictures are distinctly harmful. it is true that beautiful surroundings sometimes cost a little more than ugly ones, but the money is well spent. in some things only trouble is needed in choosing, for an ugly picture costs as much as a pretty one. perfect cleanliness is also absolutely necessary, and teachers should be constantly on the watch to see that it is maintained. the master said about the body: "keep it strictly clean always; even from the minutest speck of dirt." both teachers and students should be very clean and neat in their dress, thus helping to preserve the general beauty of the school surroundings. in all these things careful discrimination is wanted. if a boy is weak in a particular subject, or is not attracted by some subject which he is obliged to learn, a discriminating teacher will sometimes help him by suggesting to him to teach it to one who knows less than he does. the wish to help the younger boy will make the elder eager to learn more, and that which was a toil becomes a pleasure. a clever teacher will think of many such ways of helping his boys. if discrimination has been shown, as suggested in a preceding paragraph, in choosing the best and most helpful boys for positions of trust, it will be easy to teach the younger boys to look up to and wish to please them. the wish to please a loved and admired elder is one of the strongest motives in a boy, and this should be used to encourage good conduct, instead of using punishment to drive boys away from what is bad. if the teacher can succeed in attracting this love and admiration to himself, he will remain a helper to his students long after they have become men. i have been told that the boys who were under dr. arnold at rugby continued in after life to turn to him for advice in their troubles and perplexities. we may perhaps add that discrimination is a most important qualification for those whose duty it is to choose the teachers. high character and the love-nature of which we have already spoken are absolutely necessary if the above suggestions are to be carried out. iii. desirelessness the next qualification to be considered is desirelessness. there are many difficulties in the way of the teacher when he tries to acquire desirelessness, and it also requires special consideration from the standpoint of the student. as has been said in _at the feet of the master_: "in the light of his holy presence all desire dies, _but_ the desire to be like him." it is also said in the bhagavad gita that all desire dies "when once the supreme is seen." this is the ideal at which to aim, that the one will shall take the place of changing desires. this will is seen in our dharma, and in a true teacher, one whose dharma is teaching, his one desire will be to teach, and to teach well. in fact, unless this desire is felt, teaching is not his dharma, for the presence of this desire is inseparable from real capacity to teach. we have already said that little honour, unfortunately, is attached to the post of a teacher, and that a man often takes the position because he can get nothing else, instead of because he really wants to teach, and knows that he can teach. the result is that he thinks more about salary than anything else, and is always looking about for the chance of a higher salary. this becomes his chief desire. while the teacher is no doubt partly to blame for this, it is the system which is mostly in fault, for the teacher needs enough to support himself and his family, and this is a right and natural wish on his part. it is the duty of the nation to see that he is not placed in a position in which he is obliged to be always desiring increase of salary, or must take private tuition in order to earn enough to live. only when this has been done will the teacher feel contented and happy in the position he occupies, and feel the dignity of his office as a teacher, whatever may be his position among other teachers--which is, i fear, now marked chiefly by the amount of his salary. only the man who is really contented and happy can have his mind free to teach well. the teacher should not desire to gain credit for himself by forcing a boy along his own line, but should consider the special talent of each boy, and the way in which _he_ can gain most success. too often the teacher, thinking only of his own subject, forgets that the boy has to learn many subjects. the one on which most stress should be laid is the one most suited to the boy's capacity. unless the teachers co-operate with each other, the boy is too much pressed, for each teacher urges him on in his own subject, and gives him home-lessons in this. there are many teachers, but there is only one boy. again, the boy's welfare must be put by the teacher before his own desire to obtain good results in an examination. sometimes it is better for a boy to remain for another year in a class and master a subject thoroughly rather than to go up for an examination which is really too difficult for him. in such a case it is right to keep him back. but it is not right to keep him back merely for the sake of good results for the teacher. on the other hand, a teacher has sometimes to resist the parents who try to force the boy beyond his strength, and think more of his rising into a higher class than of his really knowing his subjects. unless the teacher has desirelessness, his own desires may blind him to the aspirations and capacities of the boys in his care, and he will be frequently imposing his own wishes on them instead of helping them in their natural development. however much a teacher may be attracted towards any profession or any particular set of ideas, he must so develop desirelessness that while he creates in his pupils an enthusiasm for principles, he shall not cramp them within the limits of any particular application of the principles, or allow their generous impulses--unbalanced by experience--to grow into narrow fanaticism. thus, he should teach the principles of citizenship, but not party politics. he should teach the value of all professions to a nation, if honourably filled, and not the superiority of one profession over another. iv. good conduct there are six points which are summed up by the master as good conduct. these are: . self-control as to the mind. . self-control in action. . tolerance. . cheerfulness. . one-pointedness. . confidence. we will take each of these in turn. . _self-control as to the mind_ is a most important qualification for a teacher, for it is principally through the mind that he guides and influences his boys. in the first place it means, as my master has said, "control of temper, so that you may feel no anger or impatience." it is obvious that much harm will be done to boys if their teacher is often angry and impatient. it is true that this anger and impatience are often caused by the outer conditions of the teacher's life, but this does not prevent their bad effect on the boys. such feelings, due generally to very small causes, re-act upon the minds of the students, and if the teacher is generally impatient and very often angry, he is building into the character of the boys germs of impatience and anger which may in after life destroy their own happiness, and embitter the lives of their relations and friends. we have to remember also that the boys themselves often come to school discontented and worried on account of troubles at home, and so both teachers and boys bring with them angry and impatient thoughts, which spread through the school, and make the lessons difficult and unpleasant when they should be easy and full of delight. the short religious service referred to in an early part of this little book should be attended by teachers as well as students, and should act as a kind of door to shut out such undesirable feelings. then both teachers and students would devote their whole energies to the creation of a happy school, to which all should look forward in the morning, and which all should be sorry to leave at the end of the school day. the lack of control of temper, it must be remembered, often leads to injustice on the part of the teacher, and therefore to sullenness and want of confidence on the boy, and no boy can make real progress, or be in any real sense happy, unless he has complete confidence in the justice of his elders. much of the strain of modern school life is due to this lack of confidence, and much time has to be wasted in breaking down barriers which would never have been set up if the teacher had been patient. anger and impatience grow out of irritability. it is as necessary for the boy to understand his teacher as for the teacher to understand the boy, and hasty temper is an almost insuperable obstacle in the way of such understanding. "the teacher is angry to-day," "the teacher is irritable to-day," "the teacher is short-tempered to-day," are phrases too often on the lips of boys, and they produce a feeling of discomfort in the class-room that makes harmony and ease impossible. boys learn to watch their teachers, and to guard themselves against their moods, and so distrust replaces confidence. the value of the teacher depends upon his power of inspiring confidence, and he loses this when he gives way to irritability. this is particularly important with young children, for they are eager to learn and eager to love, and only those who have no business to be teachers would dare to meet such eagerness by anger. it is of course true that younger boys are in many ways more difficult to teach than elder ones; for they have not yet learned how to make efforts, nor how to control and guide them when made. the teacher has therefore to help them much more than the elder boys who have learned largely to help themselves. the chief difficulty is to make the best use of the young energies by finding them continual and interesting employment; if the young enthusiasms are checked harshly instead of being guided sympathetically they will soon die out, and the boy will become dull and discontented. i have read that youth is full of enthusiasm and ideals, and that these gradually disappear with age, until a man is left with few or none. but it seems to me that enthusiasm, if real, should not die out, and leave cynicism behind, but rather should become stronger and more purposeful with age. the young children coming straight out of the heaven-world have brought with them a feeling of unity, and this feeling should be strengthened in them, so that it may last on through life. anger and irritability belong only to the separated self, and they drive away the feeling of unity. self-control also involves calmness, courage and steadiness. whatever difficulties the teacher may have either at home or at school, he must learn to face them bravely and cheerfully, not only that he may avoid worry for himself, but also that he may set a good example to his boys, and so help them to become strong and brave. difficulties are much increased by worrying over them, and by imagining them before they happen--doing what mrs. besant once called, "crossing bridges before we come to them." unless the teacher is cheerful and courageous with his own difficulties, he will not be able to help the boys to meet _their_ difficulties bravely. most obstacles grow small before a contented mind, and boys who bring this to their work will find their studies much easier than if they came to them discontented and worried. courage and steadiness lead to self-reliance, and one who is self-reliant can always be depended on to do his duty, even under difficult circumstances. self-control as to the mind also means concentration on each piece of work as it has to be done. my master says about the mind: "you must not let it wander. whatever you are doing, fix your thought upon it, that it may be perfectly done." much time is lost in school because the boys do not pay sufficient attention to their work; and unless the teacher is himself paying full attention to it the minds of the boys are sure to wander. prayer and meditation are intended to teach control of the mind, but these are practised only once or twice a day. unless the mind is controlled all day long by paying attention to everything we do, as the master directs, we shall never gain real power over our minds, so that they may be perfect instruments. one of the most difficult parts of a teacher's duty is to turn quickly from one subject to another, as the boys come to him with their different questions and troubles. his mind must be so fully under his control that he can pay complete attention to the particular anxiety of each boy, taking up one after the other with the same care and interest, and without any impatience. if he does not pay this full attention he is sure to make mistakes in the advice which he gives, or to be unjust in his decisions, and out of such mistakes very serious troubles may arise. on this point my friend, mr. g.s. arundale, the well-known principal of the central hindu college, writes: "at frequent intervals, of course, boys come with complaints, with petitions, and here i have to be very careful to concentrate my attention on each boy and on his particular need, for the request, or complaint, or trouble, is sometimes quite trivial and foolish, and yet it may be a great source of worry to the boy unless it is attended to; and even if the boy cannot be satisfied he can generally be sent away contented. one of the most difficult tasks for a teacher is to have sufficient control over his attention to be able continually to turn it from one subject to another without losing intensity, and to bear cheerfully the strain this effort involves. we often speak of something taxing a person's patience, but we really mean that it taxes a person's attention, for impatience is only the desire of the mind to attend to something more interesting than that which for the moment occupies it." boys must be helped to concentrate their attention on what they are doing, for their minds are always wandering away from the subject in hand. the world outside them is so full of attractive objects new and interesting to them, that their attention runs away after each fresh thing that comes under their eyes. a child is constantly told to observe, and he takes pleasure in doing so; when he begins to reason he must for the time stop observing and concentrate his mind on the subject he is studying. this change is at first very difficult for him, and the teacher must help him to take up the new attitude. sometimes attention wanders because the boy is tired, and then the teacher should try to put the subject in a new way. the boy does not generally cease to pay attention wilfully and deliberately, and the teacher must be patient with the restlessness so natural to youth. let him at least always be sure that the want of attention is not the result of his own fault, of his own way of teaching. if the attention of the teachers and the boys is trained in this way, the whole school life will become fuller and brighter, and there will be no room for the many harmful thoughts which crowd into the uncontrolled mind. even when rest is wanted by the mind, it need not be quite empty; in the words of the master: "keep good thoughts always in the background of it, ready to come forward the moment it is free." the master goes on to explain how the mind may be used to help others, when it has been brought under control. "think each day of some one whom you know to be in sorrow, or suffering, or in need of help, and pour out loving thoughts upon him." teachers hardly understand the immense force they may use along this line. they can influence their boys by their thoughts even more than by their words and actions, and by sending out a stream of kind and loving thoughts over the class, the minds of all the boys will be made quieter and happier. even without speaking a word they will improve the whole atmosphere. this good influence of thought should spread out from the school over the neighbourhood. as those who live among young people keep young themselves, and keep the ideals and pure aspirations of youth longer than those who live mainly among older people, so the presence of a school should be a source of joy and inspiration to the surrounding neighbourhood or district. happy and harmonious thought-forms should radiate from it, lighting up the duller atmosphere outside, pouring streams of hope and strength into all within its sphere of influence. the poor should be happier, the sick more comfortable, the aged more respected, because of the school in their midst. if the teacher often speaks on these subjects to his boys, and from time to time places some clear thought before them, which they all think about together, much good may be done. for thought is a very real and powerful force, especially when many join together with some common thought in their minds. if any great disaster has happened, causing misery to numbers of people, the teacher might take advantage of the religious service to draw attention to the need, and ask the boys to join with him in sending thoughts of love and courage to the sufferers. the last point mentioned by the master is pride: "hold back your mind from pride," he says, "for pride comes only from ignorance." we must not confuse pride with the happiness felt when a piece of work is well done; pride grows out of the feeling of separateness: "_i_ have done better than others." happiness in good work should grow out of the feeling of unity: "i am glad to have done this to help us all." pride separates a person from others, and makes him think himself superior to those around him; but the pleasure in some piece of work well done is helpful and stimulating, and encourages the doer to take up some more difficult work. when we share with others any knowledge we have gained, we lose all feeling of pride, and the wish to help more, instead of the wish to excel others, becomes the motive for study. . _self-control in action_. the master points out that while "there must be no laziness, but constant activity in good work ... it must be your _own_ duty that you do--not another man's, unless with his permission and by way of helping him." the teacher has, however, a special duty in this connection; for while he must offer to his boys every opportunity for development along their own lines, and must be careful not to check their growth or to force it in an unsuitable direction, he is bound to guide them very carefully, to watch them very closely, and, as master has said, to tell them gently of their faults. the teacher is in charge of his boys while they are in school, and must, while they are there, take the place of their parents. his special lesson of self-control is to learn to adapt his own methods to the stage through which his boys are passing. while contenting himself with watching and encouraging them when their activity is running along right lines, he must be ready to step in--with as little disturbance as possible--to modify the activity if it becomes excessive, to stimulate it if it becomes dull, and to turn it into new channels if it has taken a wrong course. in any necessary interposition he should try to make the boys feel that he is helping them to find the way they have missed but really wished to go, rather than forcing them to go his way. many boys have failed to develop the necessary strength of character, because the teacher, by constant interference, has imposed on them his own knowledge as to right action, instead of trying to awaken their judgment and intuition. the boys become accustomed to depend entirely on him, instead of learning gradually to walk alone. the teacher must be very careful not to allow outside interests to take him away from his duties in the school. many teachers do not seem to realise that the school should occupy as much time as they can possibly give to it outside their home duties. they sometimes do the bare amount of work necessary, and then rush away to some other occupation which they find more interesting. no teacher can be really successful in his profession unless it is the thing he cares for most, unless he is eager to devote all the time he can to his boys, and feels that he is happiest when he is working with them or for them. we are always told that enthusiasm and devotion to their work mark the successful business man, the successful official, the successful statesman; they are equally necessary for the successful teacher. anyone who desires to rise high in the profession of teaching must bring to his work, not only ability, but similar enthusiasm and devotion. surely even more enthusiasm and devotion should be brought to the moulding of many hundreds of young lives than to the gaining of money or power. every moment that the teacher is with his boys he can help them, for, as has always been taught in india, being near a good man helps one's evolution. away from the school he should be thinking of them and planning for them, and this he cannot do if his whole mind, out of school, is taken up with other interests. on this, again, i may quote mr. arundale: "when i get up in the morning my first thought is what has to be done during the day generally and as regards my own work in particular. a rapid mental survey of the school and college enables me to see whether any student seems to stand out as needing particular help. i make a note of any such student in my note book, so that i may call him during the day. then before college hours, before i take up any extraneous work, i look through my own lectures to see that i am ready for them. by this time students are continually dropping in with questions, with their hopes and aspirations, with difficulties and with troubles, some with slight ailments they want cured. i have a special little place in which to see those young men, so that the atmosphere may be pure and harmonious, and upon each one i endeavour to concentrate my whole attention, shutting everything else completely off, and i am not satisfied unless each boy leaves me with a smile upon his face." unless a teacher works in this spirit, he does not understand how sacred and solemn a trust is placed in his hands. no teacher is worthy of the name who does not realise that he serves god most truly and his country most faithfully when he lives and works with his boys. his self-sacrificing life, lived amongst them, inspires them to perform their duties well, as they see him performing his, and thus they grow in reverence and patriotism. these boys are god's children entrusted to his care; they are the hope of the nation placed in his hands. how shall he answer to god and the nation, when the trust passes out of his hands, if he has not consecrated his whole time and thought to discharge it faithfully, but has allowed the boys to go out into the world with out love to god, and without the wish and power to serve their country? boys, as well as teachers, must learn self-control in action. they must not so engage in other activities as to neglect their ordinary school duties. my master says to those who wish to serve him: "you must do ordinary work better than others, not worse." a boy's first duty in school is to learn well, and nothing should lead him to neglect his regular school work. outside this--as it is best that his activities should be kept within the school--the wise teacher will provide within the school organisation all the activities in which his boys can usefully take part. if there should be any national organisation to which he thinks it useful that they should belong, he will himself organise a branch of it within the school and he himself and the other teachers will take part in it. for example the boy-scout movement and the sons of india are both national organisations, but branches of them should be formed in the separate schools. teachers should train their boys to realise that just as the home is the centre of activity for the child, so is the school the centre of activity for the youth. as the child draws his life and energy from the home, so the youth should draw his from the school. the most useful work should be done in connection with the school so that it may form part of the general education of the boy, and be in harmony with the rest of his growth. there should be in the school debating societies, in which the rules of debate are carefully observed, so that the boys may learn self-control in argument; dramatic clubs in which they may learn control of expression; athletic clubs in which control of mind and action are both acquired; literary societies for boys specially interested in certain studies; societies for helping the poorer students. it is also very important to give the boys an opportunity of understanding the conditions under which their country is growing, so that in the school they may practice patriotism apart from politics. it is very unfortunate that in india students are often taught by unscrupulous agitators that love of their country should be shown by hatred of other countries; the boys would never believe this, if their own school provided patriotic services for its boys, so as to give a proper outlet for the enthusiasm they rightly feel. they only seek an outlet away from the school because none is provided for them within it. groups of students should be formed for various kinds of social service according to the capacities of the boys, and the needs of their surroundings: for the protection of animals, for rendering first aid to the injured, for the education of the depressed classes, for service in connection with national and religious festivals, and so on. boys, for whom such forms of service are provided in their schools, will not want to carry them on separately. boys have a special opportunity of practising self-control in action when they play games. the boys come from the more formal discipline of the class-room into conditions in which there is a sudden cessation of external authority; unless they have learned to replace this with self-control, we shall see in the play-ground brutality in the stronger followed by fear in the weaker. the playing fields have a special value in arousing the power of self-discipline, and if teachers are there who set the example of submitting to the authority of the captain, of showing gentleness and honour, and playing for the side rather than for themselves, they will much help the boys in gaining self-control. the boys also will see the teacher in a new light; he is no longer imposing his authority upon them as a teacher, but he is ruling himself from within and subordinating his own action to the rules of the game, and to the interests of those who are playing with him. the boy who enters the field with no other idea than that of enjoying himself as much as he can, even at the expense of his fellow-students, will learn from his teacher's example that he is happiest when playing for others, not for himself alone, and that he plays best when the object of the game is the honour of the school and not his own advantage. he also learns that the best player is the boy who practises his strokes carefully, and uses science to direct strength. desiring to be a good player himself, he begins to train his body to do as he wishes, thus gaining self-control in action; through this self-control he learns the great lesson, that self-control increases happiness and leads to success. another thing learned in the play-ground is control of temper, for a boy who loses his temper always plays badly. he learns not to be hasty and impatient, and to control his speech even when he is losing, and not to show vanity when he wins. thus he is making a character, strong and well-balanced, which will be very useful to him when he comes to be a man. all this is really learned better in the play-ground than in the class-room. . _tolerance_. most of my master's directions under this head are intended mainly for disciples, but still their spirit may be applied to those who are living the ordinary life. tolerance is a virtue which is very necessary in schools, especially when the scholars are of different faiths. "you must feel," says my master, "perfect tolerance for all, and a hearty interest in the beliefs of those of another religion, just as much as in your own. for their religion is a path to the highest just as yours is. and to help all you must understand all." it is the duty of the teacher to be the first in setting an example along these lines. many teachers, however, make the mistake of thinking that the views and rules to which they are themselves accustomed are universal principles which everybody ought to accept. they are therefore anxious to destroy the students' own convictions and customs, in order to replace them by others which they think better. this is especially the case in countries like india, where the boys are of many religions. unless the teacher studies sympathetically the religions of his pupils, and understands that the faith of another is as dear to him as his own is to himself, he is likely to make his boys unbelievers in all religion. he should take special care to speak with reverence of the religions to which his boys belong, strengthening each in the great principles of his own creed, and showing the unity of all religions by apt illustrations taken from the various sacred books. much can be done in this direction during the religious service which precedes the ordinary work of the day, if this be carried out on lines common to all; while each boy should be taught the doctrines of his own religion, it would be well if he were reminded once in the day of the unity of all religions, for, as the master said, every "religion is a path to the highest." an example would thus be set in the school of members of different religions living happily side by side, and showing respect to each other's opinions. i feel that this is one of the special functions of the school in the life of the nation. at home the boy is always with those who hold the same opinions as himself, and he has no opportunity of coming into touch with other beliefs and other customs. at school he should have the opportunity of meeting other ways of believing, and the teacher should lead him to understand these, and to see the unity underneath them. the teacher must never make a boy discontented with his own faith by speaking contemptuously of it, or by distorting it through his own ignorance. such conduct on his part leads a boy to despise all religion. then again there are many different customs which belong to the different parts of the country. people often exaggerate these and look on them as essential parts of religion instead of only as marks of the part of the country in which they were born. hence they look with contempt or disapproval on those whose customs differ from their own, and they keep themselves proudly separate. i do not know how far this is a difficulty in western countries, but in india i think that customs separate us much more than physical distance or religious differences. each part of the country has its own peculiarities as to dress, as to the manner of taking food, as to the way of wearing the hair, school boys are apt at first to look down upon those of their schoolfellows whose appearance or habits differ from their own. teachers should help boys to get over these trivial differences and to think instead of the one motherland to which they all belong. we have already said that patriotism should be taught without race hatred, and we may add that understanding and loving other nations is part of the great virtue of tolerance. boys are obliged to learn the history of their own and of other nations; and history, as it is taught, is full of wars and conquests. the teacher should point out how much terrible suffering has been caused by these, and that though, in spite of them, evolution has made its way and has even utilised them, far more can be gained by peace and good will than by hatred. if care is taken to train children to look on different ways of living with interest and sympathy instead of with distrust and dislike, they will grow up into men who will show to all nations respect and tolerance. . _cheerfulness_. no teacher who really loves his students can be anything but cheerful during school hours. no brave man will allow himself to be depressed, but depression is particularly harmful in a teacher, for he is daily in contact with many boys, and he spreads among them the condition of his own mind. if the teacher is depressed the boys cannot long be cheerful and happy; and unless they are cheerful and happy they cannot learn well. if teachers and boys associate cheerfulness with their school life, they will not only find the work easier than it would otherwise be, but they will turn to the school as to a place in which they can for the time live free from all cares and troubles. the teacher should train himself to turn away from all worrying and depressing thoughts the moment he enters the school gate, for his contribution to the school atmosphere, in which the boys must live and grow, must be cheerfulness and energy. the best way to get rid of depression is to occupy the mind with something bright and interesting, and this should not be difficult when he is going to his boys. thoughts die when no attention is paid to them so it is better to turn away from depressing thoughts than to fight them. cheerfulness literally increases life, while depression diminishes it, and by getting rid of depression the teacher increases his energy. it is often indeed very difficult for the teacher, who has the cares of family life upon him, to keep free from anxiety, but still he must try not to bring it into the school. mr. arundale tells me that he has made a habit of becoming cheerful the moment he enters the college gates, however worried he may have been beforehand, because, he writes: "i want my contribution to the school day to be happiness and interest, and by a daily process of making myself pretend to be cheerful when the college gates are entered, i have finally succeeded in becoming so. if, as i pass through the grounds to my office, i see any student looking dull and gloomy, i make a point of going up to him in order to exert my cheerfulness against his gloom, and the gloom soon passes away. then comes the religious service, and when i take my seat upon the platform with the religious instructor, i try to ask the master's blessing on all the dear young faces i see before me, and i look slowly around upon each member of the audience, trying to send out a continual stream of affection and sympathy." i have already said that boys watch their teachers' faces to see if they are in a good or a bad mood. if the teacher is always cheerful and loving, the boys will no longer watch him, for they will have learned to trust him, and all anxiety and strain will disappear. if the teacher displays constant cheerfulness, he sends out among his boys streams of energy and good will, new life pours into them, their attention is stimulated, and the sympathy of the teacher conquers the carelessness of the boy. just as a boy learns control of action on the play-ground, so he may learn there this virtue of cheerfulness. to be cheerful in defeat makes the character strong, and the boy who can be cheerful and good-tempered in the face of the team which has just defeated him is well on the way to true manliness. . _one-pointedness_. one-pointedness, the concentration of attention on each piece of work as it is being done, so that it may be done as well as possible, largely depends upon interest. unless the teacher is interested in his work, and loves it beyond all other work, he will not be able to be really one-pointed. he must be so absorbed in his school duties that his mind is continually occupied in planning for his boys, and looks upon everything in the light of its possible application to his own particular work. one-pointedness means enthusiasm, but enthusiasm is impossible without ideals. so the teacher who desires to be one-pointed must be full of ideals to which he is eager to lead his school. these ideals will sharpen his attention, and make him able to concentrate it even upon quite trivial details. he will have the ideal school in his mind, and will always be trying to bring the real school nearer to it. to be one-pointed, therefore, the teacher must not be contented with things as they are, but must be continually on the alert to take advantage of every opportunity of improvement. the teacher's ideal will of course be modified as he learns more of his students' capacities and of the needs of the nation. in this way, as the years pass, the teacher may find himself far from the early ideals that at first gave him one-pointedness. ideals will still guide him, but they will be more practical, and so his one-pointedness will be much keener and will produce larger results. the master quotes two sayings which seem to me to show very clearly the lines along which one-pointedness should work: "whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might"; and: "whatsoever ye do, do it _heartily_, as to the lord and not unto men." it must be done "as to the lord." the master says: "every piece of work must be done religiously--done with the feeling that it is a sacred offering to be laid on the altar of the lord. 'this do i, o lord, in thy name and for thee.' thinking this, can i offer to him anything but my very best? can i let _any_ piece of my work be done carelessly or inattentively, when i know that it is being done expressly for him? think how you would do your work if you knew that the lord himself were coming directly to see it; and then realise that he _does_ see it, for all is taking place within his consciousness. so will you do your duty 'as unto the lord and not as unto men'." the work must be done, too, according to the teacher's knowledge of the principles of evolution, and not merely out of regard to small and fleeting interests. the teacher must therefore gradually learn his own place in evolution, so that he may become one-pointed as to himself; unless he practises one-pointedness with regard to his own ideal for himself, he will not be able to bring it to bear on his surroundings. he must try to be in miniature the ideal towards which he hopes to lead his boys, and the application of the ideal to himself will enable him to see in it details which otherwise would escape his notice, or which he might neglect as unimportant. the practical application, then, of one-pointedness lies in the endeavour to keep before the mind some dominant central ideal towards which the whole of the teachers' and boys' daily routine shall be directed, so that the small life may be vitalised by the larger, and all may become conscious parts of one great whole. the ideal of service, for instance, may be made so vivid that the whole of daily life shall be lived in the effort to serve. . _confidence_. first among the qualifications for the teacher has been placed love, and it is fitting that this little book should end with another qualification of almost equal importance--confidence. unless the teacher has confidence in his power to attain his goal, he will not be able to inspire a similar confidence in his boys, and self-confidence is an indispensable attribute for success in all departments of human activity. the master has beautifully explained why we have the right to be confident. "you must trust yourself. you say you know yourself too well? if you feel so, you do _not_ know yourself; you know only the weak outer husk, which has fallen often into the mire. but _you_--the real you--you are a spark of god's own fire, and god, who is almighty, is in you, and because of that there is nothing that you cannot do if you will." the teacher must feel that he has the power to teach his boys and to train them for their future work in the world. this power is born of his love for them and his desire to help them, and is drawn from the one spiritual life of which all partake. it is because the teacher and his boys are one in essence, make one little flame in "god's own fire," that the teacher has the right to be confident that every effort to help, growing out of his own share in the one life, will reach and stimulate that same life in the boys. he will not always be able to see at once the effect he is producing. indeed, the most important influence the teacher has shows itself in the growing characters of the boys. no success in examinations, in reports, in inspections can satisfy the real teacher as to the effect of his work. but when he feels that his own higher nature is strengthened and purified by his eagerness to serve his boys, when he has the joy of watching the divine life in them shining out in answer to that in himself, then his happiness is indeed great. then he has the peace of knowing that he has awakened in his boys the knowledge of their own divinity, which, sooner or later, will bring them to perfection. the teacher is justified in feeling confident because the divine life is in him and his boys, and they turn to him for inspiration and strength. let him but send out to them all that is highest in himself, and he may be quite sure that there will not be one boy who will not to some extent respond in his own higher self, however little the response may be seen by the teacher. this constant interplay of the one life between teacher and students will draw them ever nearer to each other. they learn in the school to live together as elder and younger brothers of the one school family. by living a life of brotherhood within the small area of the school, they will be trained to live that life in the larger area of the nation. then they will gradually learn that there is but one great brotherhood in all the world, one divine life in all. this life each separate member of the brotherhood is trying to express, consciously or unconsciously. the teacher is indeed happy who knows his own divinity; that knowledge of the divinity in man is the highest lesson it will ever be his privilege to teach. * * * * * +-----------------------------------------------------------+ | transcriber's note: | | | | inconsistent hyphenation in the original document has | | been preserved. bolded text is marked =like so=. | | | | obvious typographical errors have been corrected. for | | a complete list, please see the end of this document. | | | | the opinions contained in this e-book are no longer | | considered valid. | | | +-----------------------------------------------------------+ * * * * * mentally defective children by alfred binet and th. simon, m.d. authorised translation by w.b. drummond, m.b., c.m., f.r.c.p. (edin.) author of "an introduction to child study," etc. with an appendix containing the binet-simon tests of intelligence by margaret drummond, m.a. and an introduction by professor alexander darroch _fourth impression_ london edward arnold [_all rights reserved_] printed in great britain by billing and sons, limited guildford and esher introduction the binet-simon tests of children's intelligence have been the subject of much discussion during the past few years, both in this country and in america. much of this discussion seems to have been carried on, at times, without any knowledge of the original aim or purpose for which these tests were devised, and as if, so to speak, they were invented as a means for ascertaining the relative intellectual powers of all children, and so of affording to the teacher a ready and sure means of accurately classifying and grading the children under his charge. as a consequence, there is a tendency, in some quarters, to search for and to endeavour to establish some absolute standard or criterion of intelligence which shall be valid, irrespective of the nationality, or the class, or the particular environment of the child. it is hoped that the publication in translation of the work of binet and simon in which these tests first appeared, along with the complete series of tests as extended and revised during the lifetime of the former, will tend to remove this twofold misapprehension, and make the educationalist, as well as the wider public interested in social questions, acquainted with the real purpose which underlay the devisal or invention of the tests, and so enable all to perceive that their relative value, as measuring stages of intelligence, must be judged by the purpose for which they were devised. now, the main purpose of the authors in the devisal of these tests is to furnish to the teacher a _first_ means by which he may single out mentally backward children, who, upon further examination, may also be found to have some mental defect or peculiarity which prevents them from fully profiting by the education of the ordinary school, and who probably would benefit more by being educated in a special school or in a special class. but the final selection, it is contended, of defective children for special education demands the experience of the doctor and of the psychologist, as well as the knowledge of the teacher, and the aid of all three is necessary in the devisal of courses of study for the mentally defective. especially important is the division of mentally defectives into two main classes--the feeble-minded and the ill-balanced. the latter, as a rule, are easily marked out from the normal child, and, if not specially looked after, may in later life become a menace to society. the feeble-minded, on the other hand, may easily escape the notice of the teacher, and may pass through the ordinary school unaffected and unimproved, enter into society, and propagate their kind. both classes require the special care of the community, and their proper education and training are of the gravest importance for the welfare and stability of society. in this selection and education of mentally defective children, three positions of billet and simon are worthy of consideration. in the first place, it is contended that a physical examination alone can never allow us to dispense with a direct examination of the intelligence, and that "anthropometry, stigmata, and physical appearance must take a second place as means of discovering in school the feeble-minded and the ill-balanced." again, "mental deficiency and want of balance are peculiar mental conditions which it is often impossible to connect with definite pathological changes." hence the examination of the medical man is not decisive. it must be accompanied and reinforced by that of the psychologist. in the second place, it is affirmed that in the devisal of schemes of training for mental defectives, we must take into account that the dominant features in their life are the "senses, the concrete perceptions, and motor ability," and that "in the education of defectives the workshop ought to become a more important place of instruction than the class-room." in the third place, the position is strongly emphasised that "every class, every school for defectives, ought to aim at rendering the pupils socially useful. it is not a question of enriching their minds, but of giving them the means of working for their living." hence, the utility of special schools or special classes for such children depends ultimately upon their success in making their pupils, according to the measure of their intelligence, efficient workers. these two problems--viz., ( ) the method of selecting abnormal or defective children who are not sufficiently good for the ordinary school, nor yet sufficiently bad to be classed as idiots or imbeciles; and ( ) the devisal of courses of education and training which may tend to make them hereafter useful workers and citizens--are of first-rate importance to us at the present time. under recent legislation, public local authorities have been entrusted with the devisal of the means for the proper selection and the proper education of defective children, and the utmost wisdom and care should be taken in the beginning of this new movement. the many errors that administrators may fall into are fully set forth in this little volume (_cf._ p. _et seq._), and the concluding chapter on the utility of special schools should be read by all who have to do with the administration of the new act. the importance of the work of binet and simon to teachers and inspectors is without question, and were the duties of the teacher and inspector carried out as set forth in this volume (_cf._ p. ) throughout the whole school, a much-needed improvement in our ordinary school education would soon result. lastly, the volume is important as marking a new attitude towards educational problems, and as indicating the newer spirit in which we should undertake the training of all teachers. this new attitude and spirit are clearly set forth in the concluding words of the volume: "the essential thing is for all the world to understand that empiricism has had its day, and that methods of scientific precision must be introduced into all educational work, to carry everywhere good sense and light." alexander darroch university of edinburgh, _july, _ contents chapter i introductory page interest in social questions some definitions some statistics chapter ii some features of the psychology of defectives what is a defective child? distribution of defective children in the public schools psychological description of the mentally defective psychological description of the ill-balanced intellectual aptitudes of the defective chapter iii pedagogical examination of defective school children the board of examiners the rÔle of the teacher: to pick out the cases the rÔle of the inspector: to act as referee _tests of instruction_ reading arithmetic spelling _psychological examination_ tests of intelligence chapter iv the medical examination of defectives the rÔle of the doctor the doctor not to pick out the cases the physical examination the medical examination mental deficiency or intercurrent mental affection? mental deficiency amenable to medical treatment? mental deficiency complicated by illness? the medical schedule chapter v the educational and social return of schools and classes for defectives an inquiry in the hospitals the educational return the social return appendix diagrams index mentally defective children chapter i introductory =the present-day interest in social questions.=--amongst questions of present-day interest, none are more discussed or attract a greater amount of attention than those which relate to social problems. the generous philanthropy of preceding generations seems to us to-day a little out of date, and we substitute for this virtue of the rich the otherwise fruitful idea that, by the very constitution of society itself, we are all in duty bound to occupy ourselves with the condition of our fellow-citizens, and especially of the less fortunate among them. this duty does not rest solely upon a sentiment of humanity. it is dictated equally by our own pressing personal interests; for unless, within a reasonable time, satisfaction is given to the just demands of the nine-tenths of society who are actually working for wages very little in harmony with their efforts and their needs, we already foresee that a violent revolution, from which the "haves" have very little to gain, will shake society to its very foundations. the consequence is that the very people who up to the present time have kept themselves most aloof from the social problem are being brought into contact with reality. it is a curious thing to see how scientific men, who for the past fifty years have never stirred a foot outside their laboratories, are showing a tendency to mingle in affairs. in spite of the diversity of the forces at work, there is one general fact which is undeniable. pure and disinterested science retains its votaries, but the number is increasing of those who are turning to science for useful and practical applications; albeit, they are thinking less of science than of society, for it is those social phenomena which are capable of amelioration which scientific men are now studying by the most exact methods for the benefit of men of action, who are usually empirics. innumerable examples of this intervention of science in daily life might be cited. on the one hand, we see physiologists--imbert, for example--who are setting themselves to the study of the phenomena of the labour and the nutrition of different classes of workers; in order to find out whether the increase in wages and the diminution in the hours of work which the workers are for ever crying for can be justified by physiology. the day is not far off when such scientific observations, which are becoming more exact and more extensive, will play a part in the discussions between capital and labour. another example may be given of a different nature, but of identical signification. psychologists are studying the value of evidence, and are thinking out better methods of arriving at truth, in order to discover reforms which may be introduced into the organization of justice. an important movement of this nature, started in france, is being continued in germany with even greater energy (binet, stern and his pupils, claparède, larguier, etc.). as a last example we shall cite the most striking of all. this is the increasing interest which doctors are taking in the upbringing of the young, both in infancy and later. this is _puericulture_, and includes everything that is being done for the supervision, protection, and assistance of the mother and nurseling. it includes the medical inspection of school-children, which gives the doctor the opportunity of caring for their ailments and preventing overpressure. it includes, lastly, all the reforms of but yesterday's date which make for a better hygiene, a better physical education. one might add also the work that is being done almost everywhere, in germany, in america, in italy, and in france (laboratory of psychology of the sorbonne, and the society for child study), with reference to the special aptitudes of children, and, as has been said a little ambitiously, the making of education an exact science. =education of defectives.=--the movement referred to, of which we see only the beginning, but which will result, let us hope, in an amelioration of the lot of the great majority, is now being directed to the education of the mentally defective. their problem has been discussed theoretically for a long time, but nothing has come of it. now the problem is entering upon a new phase, and something practical will result. without attempting to write the whole history, which would be nothing more than the study of what has been done in other countries, let us state where we are ourselves. it was in france that alienists first began to occupy themselves with the children known under the various names of "abnormal," "backward," "idiot," "mentally defective," "unstable," etc. esquirol made the important distinction between the idiot and the dement; and after him many other alienists--notably itard, falret, voisin--described the principal symptoms of idiocy, or attempted to show that it is capable of amelioration. séguin, a teacher of defectives, who has left an honoured name, showed experimentally how one may, by dint of much ingenuity and patience, increase the intelligence and improve the character of some of these unfortunate children.[ ] lastly, in our own day, bourneville, the well-known physician of bicêtre, after having organised the most important clinique for idiots which exists in france, agitated with untiring energy for the formation in the public schools of special classes for the instruction of abnormal children. this scheme has been supported by a great many doctors and philanthropists, and laid before municipal councils, general councils, scientific societies, and all the numerous educational congresses which have been held in france and abroad during the last twenty years. this effort has had no result; and whilst in the great majority of foreign countries there have been for a long time schools and classes for defectives--the first german school, that of dresden, dates from --with us the only children of this kind who receive the care and education appropriate to their condition are the children of the rich. poor children continue to attend the ordinary schools. it was not till that the powers that be awakened from their indifference. the minister of public instruction, m. chaumié, appointed a commission to study the abnormal--physical, mental, and moral--from the scholastic point of view. this commission, over which m. leon bourgeois presided most ably, met a great number of times in and , and drew up a complete scheme for the care and education of defective children, which has been embodied in a bill by the minister of public instruction. =some definitions.=--now, who are these abnormal children, and why should the authorities interest themselves in their education? for the sake of clearness, we must give some definitions. in medical terminology the term _abnormal_ is applied to every subject who diverges so clearly from the average as to constitute a pathological anomaly. as a matter of fact, the abnormal constitute quite a heterogeneous group. their common characteristic, which is a negative one, is that by their physical and mental organisation these children are rendered incapable of profiting by the ordinary methods of instruction in use in the public schools. the most definite types are the deaf and dumb, the blind, the epileptic, idiots, imbeciles, cripples, etc. there are in this list some classes which are of less interest to us than others, because the state has already to a certain extent provided for their needs. this applies especially to the blind, and to the deaf and dumb. it has always been perceived that such children were not like others, and could not be taught by ordinary methods. the blind can learn to read only in a book whose characters are printed in relief, and the deaf-mute cannot follow an oral lesson. the necessity of a special education for these two groups was therefore obvious, and at the present time about five thousand are receiving care and a professional education in the state institutions and in private schools, the majority of which are religious. we shall not concern ourselves with them here, in spite of the interest which they awaken. nor shall we discuss whether the methods which are used for their education might not be improved, though the question is attractive. but we must simplify the subject if we wish to get on. we shall also exclude here the lowest grade of idiots, who require continuous medical supervision, and who are very seldom educable. these subjects are received into hospitals and asylums. when we have excluded these classes of children--the deaf-mutes, the blind, and the ineducable idiots--what remains? why, there remain just the very children with whom the new law will be concerned. in the meantime these are not in any special school; they are attending the primary schools, which cannot shut the door in their faces when they have arrived at school age. but they do not profit much by the instruction given in school, and this fact gives rise to vigorous complaints on the part of the teachers. these children, say they, are not in the least like the great majority of other pupils. a great many of them are mentally defective. without being completely lacking in intelligence, they are not sufficiently endowed therewith to work alongside normal children; they do not understand, they cannot follow; they profit so little by attending the school that some of them are never able to assimilate the instruction even of the elementary course. very often they pay no attention whatever to the work of the class; and this is quite a good thing, for then the teacher forgets them in their corner, and goes on as if they were not there. but many of these children are ill-balanced; they are excitable, and their bodies are never at rest; they are not amenable to ordinary discipline. they are a constant source of trouble and annoyance to their master and to their comrades. the supervision of a single ill-balanced child is more trouble, the teachers sometimes declare, than the direction of twenty normal ones. either one or the other must be neglected, and the alternatives are equally objectionable. what, then, must be done with those children who are not amenable to the ordinary school discipline? at first sight this seems a simple question. let them be sent to an institution. we actually possess in the hospitals of bicêtre and of the salpêtrière, in the colony of vaucluse--to say nothing of provincial institutions--establishments which make provision, both medical and educational, for children who are idiotic, imbecile, vicious, and epileptic. is it not possible to send to these institutions all the abnormal children who encumber the primary schools? no; it is neither possible nor desirable to pack them off to an asylum. these abnormal children are not in all cases so severely affected as to require segregation. we admit that such a measure is necessary for idiots of low grade who cannot even feed themselves. we have also no objection to leaving to the asylums cases of very severe nervous disturbance such as epilepsy, for only there can they receive the medical supervision appropriate to their condition. they have more need of the doctor than of the teacher. as for the other abnormal children who constitute the great majority, it seems clear that the proper place for them is not the asylum, but the special school. they have sufficient intelligence to attend a school. what they probably require is instruction specially adapted to their mental state, and such instruction can be profitably given only in classes small enough to permit of individual attention. from all this we reach a very clear definition of what we mean by abnormal children, and a very simple indication of what should be done with them. abnormal and defective children are those who are suitable for neither the ordinary school nor the asylum; for the school they are not sufficiently good, for the asylum not sufficiently bad. we must try what special schools and classes can do for them. =statistics.=--it is important to notice that the children so defined are not a negligible quantity. their name is legion. and since number is the factor that gives importance to every social problem, we may say that the regulation of the lot of these children is a social question of the greatest gravity. the statistics which have up till now been published abroad do not give such precise information as one could wish regarding the number of the defectives. some give the bare figures; others, using a better method, state the proportion of mentally defective children to the total population. there is also much doubt as to the way in which the statisticians have used the term "abnormal" or "defective." one inquiry relates only to children slightly affected; another bears upon all abnormal children, including the lowest grades of idiocy, and is therefore much more comprehensive. in other cases we are not told how the selection was made. as to france, precise information has not been available until last year, when two inquiries were held--one at the instance of the ministerial commission, the other organised by the minister of the interior. according to the former inquiry, we find that the proportion of defectives amounts to scarcely per cent. for the boys, and o. per cent. for the girls. these percentages are evidently far too small, and we ourselves have discovered, by a small private inquiry, that many schools returned "none" in the questionnaires distributed, although the headmasters have admitted to us that they possessed several genuine defectives. in paris, m. vaney, a headmaster, made some investigations by the arithmetical test, which we shall explain presently, and reached the conclusion that per cent. of the school population of two districts were backward. if we were to include the ill-balanced, whose number is probably equal to that of the backward, the proportion would be about per cent. lastly, and quite recently, a special and most careful inquiry was made at bordeaux, under the direction of m. thamin, by alienists and the school medical inspectors, and it was found that the percentage of abnormality amongst the boys was . . probably the true percentage is somewhere in the neighbourhood of . all these inquiries are comparable because they all deal with the school population. the great variation in the figures is due to several causes, the chief of which are the following: ( ) the proportion of the abnormal varies to a surprising extent in different schools even in the same neighbourhood. dr. abadie, for example, has expressly noted that in some schools the proportion may be four times as great as in others. ( ) the definition of a child of backward intelligence has usually and quite gratuitously been left vague by the investigators; each interprets the term in his own way, whence arise great differences in the figures. ( ) it is particularly difficult to define the cases that are to be reckoned as ill-balanced or unstable, and some teachers, if they are allowed, will place in this category all the pupils that they dislike. * * * * * we have been led to interest ourselves in abnormal children in the following way: one of us, binet, president of the _société libre pour l'Étude de l'enfant_, has for many years been in daily contact with the staff of the primary schools. in obedience to the wish of a great many teachers, he has formed, in connection with the society, a committee for the care of abnormal children, upon which are many distinguished people, such as m. rollet, m. albanel, dr. voisin, mme. meusy, and, above all, m. baguer, who is deeply interested in the education of defectives. this committee initiated various investigations relating to backward children. some time afterwards m. binet, having been nominated a member of the ministerial commission on abnormal children, became the director of the work of the commission relating to the backward and the unstable. he then, in conjunction with dr. simon, undertook in certain districts various inquiries into the condition of such cases. in regard to several questions we enjoyed the intelligent and devoted co-operation of m. vaney, head of the primary school of the rue grange-aux-belles, where one of us has founded a laboratory of pedagogy. we have thus been interested in abnormal children for a long time, either from the point of view of school organisation, or from that of their differentiation from the normal. let us add that lately m. bédorez, the distinguished director of primary education in the seine district, has kindly permitted one of us (binet) to co-operate in the organisation of some classes for defective children, which have been started experimentally in the primary schools of paris. let us now state quite clearly our aim in writing this book. ever since public interest has been aroused in the question of schools for defective children, selfish ambition has seen its opportunity. the most frankly selfish interests conceal themselves behind the mask of philanthropy, and whoever dreams of finding a fine situation for himself in the new schools never speaks of the children without tears in his eyes. this is the everlasting human comedy. there is no reason for indignation. everyone has the right to look after his own interest, so long as he does not compromise interests superior to his own--namely, those of society. it is this social interest with which we are concerned. having found out by our own personal experience how a class for defectives may be established and conducted, we have noted the faults which could not but be committed, and the mistakes which will certainly occur unless one is forewarned and makes every possible effort to prevent them. may our book, then, be regarded as a means of prophylaxis, a means of escaping conscious or unconscious error. may it also prove a guide--imperfect, no doubt, but still useful--for the organisation of some of those social inquiries conducted in a strictly scientific spirit, which are becoming more and more necessary for the proper management of public affairs. footnotes: [ ] it is common to cite with respect the names of one's predecessors, and séguin's portrait may justly hang in such a gallery of one's ancestors. but séguin's work must not be examined too closely; those who praise it have certainly not read it. séguin impresses us as an empiric, endowed with great personal talent, which he has not succeeded in embodying clearly in his works. these contain some pages of good sense, with many obscurities, and many absurdities. we refer the curious reader to his chief work, _traitement moral, hygiène, et education des idiots et des autres enfants arriérés_, published in . one might make many criticisms on the writings of alienists; but to what end? we prefer to say of such predecessors what ingres said to his pupils in the rubens gallery at the louvre, "salute them, but pay no attention to them!" chapter ii some features of the psychology of defectives although this book is specially intended as a guide to the admission of mentally defective children to special schools or classes, we cannot commence by an exposition of the methods of recruiting such children. we must first describe the children and indicate their principal characteristics, mental and moral. we must also discuss the question what a mentally defective child really is--a very important question, upon which depends everything else, the organisation of the schools and the special methods of education. every educational method depends upon a theory, formulated or implicit, which is at once its point of departure and its justification. one would run the risk of falling into a blind empiricism if one were content to apply an educational method independently of the theory which is its soul. there are two conceptions of a totally different nature, either of which may inspire the training of defective children. let us examine each of these in turn, and find out which is the more reasonable. according to the first, the defective child is practically the same as a normal child several years younger; or, in other words, he is a child who has been retarded in his development. a backward child of twelve years of age, who has not yet been able to learn to read, would thus be comparable to an ordinary child of six, who is just beginning to spell. it is evident that such a comparison must not be pushed too far. many reservations must be made. on the one hand, the defective has not so much time in front of him for development as a normal and younger child. he is then not strictly comparable to the latter. on the other hand, the very fact of his age has given to the defective of twelve a bodily and even a mental development never attained at six. for example, he is nearer puberty; his vocabulary is more extensive; and he possesses greater general knowledge. but these reservations once made, the theory that the defective is the victim of a retardation of development has seemed reasonable to many competent people. as a rule one just accepts it without taking the trouble to formulate it in precise terms. perhaps it is for this very reason that one accepts it so easily; it is the classic theory. to the cursory reader it may seem that we adopt this theory ourselves, for we shall frequently use such phrases as "defective of eleven who is at the level of a child of nine." but the sense in which we use such an expression must not be misunderstood, because it is only intended to imply that a certain standard has been attained. it has no bearing on the cause of the retardation, nor upon its particular nature, nor upon the means of rectifying it. now for the educational consequences of the preceding theory. if the backwardness is only a slowness of development, it will suffice to apply to the backward the same methods as to the normal. one will make them follow the same course of study and go just as far as possible. every defective must work towards the primary school certificate. to attain that end, he ought to pass through seven regular stages, one each year. the teacher of defectives cannot hope that he will bring his pupils to the last stage. he will stop half-way. one day, at the agricultural colony of vaucluse, when some foreign doctors were visiting the establishment, the teacher showing his class to the visitors remarked with naïve pride: "our pupils follow step by step the curriculum of the primary school." a second and totally different theory is tenable, and this one appears to us to be much nearer the truth. it is that a defective child does not resemble in any way a normal one whose development has been retarded or arrested. he is inferior, not in degree, but in kind. the retardation of his development has not been uniform. obstructed in one direction, his development has progressed in others. to some extent he has cultivated substitutes for what is lacking. consequently such a child is not strictly comparable to a normal child younger than himself. so far as certain faculties are concerned, he remains at the level of a younger child; but in respect to others, he is on a level with normal children of his own age. an unequal and imperfect development is consequently his specific characteristic. these inequalities of development may vary to any degree in different subjects. they always produce a want of equilibrium, and this want is the differentiating attribute of the defective child. but to draw a faithful picture we must add yet other traits. according to general opinion, mental deficiency is a disease, and although the idea of disease is very vague, we are inclined to fall in with this general opinion. in the first place, we frequently find in such children defects of speech. besides, in studying their mental condition more closely, one finds in some cases peculiarities of understanding, reasoning, imagining, difficult to define, but which do not appear to have their equivalent in younger normal children, and which therefore do not result from simple retardation of development. here is a boy, twelve years of ago, who tries to answer our questions, and succeeds pretty well; but hardly has he finished his answer when he deserts the subject altogether and begins to talk a lot of nonsense. this want of coordination in thought constitutes a special defect, and not a retardation of development. possibly one would not find analogous features in other backward children, who tend rather to be laconic; but it is also possible that a careful analysis of their mental state might reveal in them other mental symptoms, and, indeed, such are very obvious in the variety called "unstable" or "ill-balanced." to sum up, we are of opinion that the defective child usually exhibits the following characters: ( ) a retardation of development; ( ) a defect of equilibrium--_i.e._, the retardation is more marked in some faculties than in others; ( ) individual peculiarities of a pathological kind in the mental powers. if this second theory is correct, there follows a very important practical consequence--namely, that the curriculum drawn up for normal children is very imperfectly suited to the defective. we cannot force the latter to fit the ordinary course. to attempt this would be quite as unreasonable as to make our teaching appeal to the ears of the deaf or the eyes of the blind. the first duty of the teacher is to take account of the faculties already developed, the aptitudes which are already apparent. his work is thankless and difficult; he would be foolish not to take advantage of the indications of nature. if a pupil show a special taste for any subject, it is evidently towards such a line of study that he should be directed. consequently, in conformity with these ideas, we would reject on principle any programme of special instruction which would rigorously include all the children in a common plan. on the contrary, we would prefer for the defective a scheme which would take the most account of their natural aptitudes. such considerations lead us to put the following question--what are the most common aptitudes in children of this class? we say "the most common," because we have not to do with a single well-defined type, for there are as many varieties as there are individuals; but in spite of the number of those varieties, which shows the need for individual teaching, it will always be possible to establish categories in which those most nearly alike may be grouped it is also possible that the aptitudes most frequently lacking are always, or almost always, of the same nature. to solve the question which we have just raised, we shall employ two methods-- _the questionnaire._ _direct observation._ a printed questionnaire containing thirty-eight questions has been distributed through the agency of m. belot, school inspector, to the heads of all the elementary schools in two districts of paris--one central, the other suburban. nothing would be gained by reproducing here the questionnaire, which has served its purpose. we shall simply lay down the conclusions we have reached, after studying the replies with the greatest care. the replies confirm the division, which we have ourselves suggested, of all the abnormal into three groups: ( ) the mentally defective; ( ) the ill-balanced; ( ) a mixed type which includes those who are both mentally defective and ill-balanced. the simply defective do not present any well-defined anomaly of character, but they do not profit, or profit very little, from the ordinary school teaching. the ill-balanced, who might also be called the "undisciplined," are abnormal chiefly in character. they are distinguished by their unruliness, their talkativeness, their lack of attention, and sometimes their wickedness. =the distribution of defective children in the public schools.=--in which school divisions do we find these several varieties of children? let us begin with the mentally defective. these are found chiefly in the junior division, as might be expected. some manage to reach the intermediate division, but scarcely any reach the senior. the exact distribution is as follows: per cent. in the junior department; per cent. in the intermediate. let us be more precise with regard to two points--the age of the child and his school position. some heads of schools, not all, have taken the trouble to satisfy our demands, and have fixed to almost a year the mental retardation of the child as compared with normal children of the same age. the following table summarises these replies, and shows that the majority of cases present a retardation of three years: mentally defective children with a retardation of-- year years " " " " " according to a convention, of which we shall speak more fully later, we regard as defective in intelligence a child who shows a retardation of three years, when he himself is nine years of age or more. the results shown above agree with this convention. moreover, one may draw the conclusion, which is of practical value, that one need not seek children of this group in the senior division of a primary school. the distribution of the ill-balanced in the divisions of the primary school is quite different. in the first place, one is surprised to find none, or practically none (only two out of forty-five) in the senior division. we did not expect this. _a priori_, we should have supposed that, in spite of their defect in character, the unstable were not without intelligence, and that a fair number of them would succeed in passing the gates of the senior division. if none are found there, this shows clearly that instability must be associated with some mental defect, unless some independent condition, such as inveterate laziness, has checked the child on the way. the ill-balanced, like the simply defective, are to be found in the intermediate and junior divisions, but their distribution is different. while per cent. of the simply defective are in the junior division, and per cent. in the intermediate, per cent. of the ill-balanced are in the junior, and per cent. in the intermediate: practically, they are divided equally between these two divisions. this indicates a degree of intelligence superior to that of the defective, as one would expect. but, on the other hand, their absence from the senior division shows that the intelligence of the ill-balanced is in general below the average. as this conclusion is new, and may be open to question, let us examine it more closely: the amount of the retardation of the ill-balanced, as shown in our returns, is as follows: mentally ill-balanced children with a retardation of-- year years " " these figures show, in a novel form, that the mental retardation is much less clear in the ill-balanced than in the defective properly so called, since in the former group are to be found many pupils--about a third--who, in the opinion of their teachers, are not at all backward; but the majority are backward, while none are in advance of their years. consequently, the whole group shows a slight retardation, averaging about one year, which confirms and makes more precise our original conclusion. we may therefore affirm that mental instability or want of balance is usually accompanied by an intellectual retardation of about one year. =age distribution.=--it is worth while making another remark about the ages of these children. the simply defective are of all possible school ages, while the unstable are usually young children. here is the distribution: -------------+------------------+----------------- age. | defectives. | unstable. -------------+------------------+----------------- years | } | } " | } | } " | } | } " | } total, | } total, " | } | } " | } | } " | } | } " | } | } " | } total, | } total, " | } | } -------------+------------------+----------------- the defectives remain in the schools till the end of the prescribed terms, whilst the ill-balanced hasten to leave before the time. thus the defective, like an inert mass, become a dead weight which encumbers the school. they adapt themselves as well as they can to their environment. their parents are apt to leave them at school as long as possible, because they do not know what to do with them, and probably the teachers do not complain very much, but are ready to put up with these defectives who do not interfere with discipline. the ill-balanced, on the other hand, find the school environment irksome, the discipline hostile. they do not wish to stay at school; their parents do not keep them there, owing to the constant complaints of the teachers; and the teachers do not want to have anything more to do with them. conclusion: the ill-balanced leaves school early, and takes his place in society, where, owing to his character, he may very easily become a danger. to sum up, the simply defective remain at school, while the ill-balanced leave early. another observation may be made. since the ill-balanced are so numerous at ten years of age, and even at eight, we conclude that in many cases the mental instability is not the result of the perturbation which precedes puberty. this physiological explanation is not of such general application as is sometimes supposed. =the frequency of the mixed type, at once defective and ill-balanced.=--the third category of defective children which we have suggested includes those of a mixed type, who are at once mentally defective and ill-balanced. we shall not be surprised to find that these subjects have characters which are the mean of those of the defective and the ill-balanced, since they unite in themselves the two different forms of abnormality. thus, as regards their intelligence, one finds that none of them are in the senior division; the majority are in the junior division ( per cent.), and the remainder ( per cent.) in the intermediate division, which proves that they are on the average less intelligent than the simply ill-balanced, and more intelligent than the simply defective. but we need not dwell on such details, which are easy to understand and even to foresee. the most important question is the number of the mixed cases. the groups of the two simple types are almost equal in number.[ ] on the other hand, we find only twenty-one mixed cases in a population where the ill-balanced which have been notified to us amount to forty-four, and the defective to fifty-seven, so that the mixed cases represent only a fifth of the whole, whereas the simple cases form four-fifths. these very different proportions indicate that as a general rule mental instability and mental deficiency are quite distinct. they are not aspects of a single pathological condition, but are two quite independent pathological conditions which may coexist in the same subject, just as happens, for example, in the case of alcoholism and epilepsy, but which are none the less distinct, since as a rule they do not coexist. =psychological description of the mentally defective.=--now let us take a closer look at the children who are going to be pupils in our schools for defectives. in looking over the replies to our questionnaire, we are struck by the recurrence of certain phrases, by which the teacher attempts to sum up the defective child. here are some examples of such phrases. they represent only general impressions, but the frequency of similar impressions arrests one's attention. _charles_ does the best he can. _augustine_ is very attentive. _emile_ is very obedient and gentle. _paul_ is always making himself useful in little ways. _marcelle_ is obliging and polite. _jeanne_ blushes on the slightest occasion. severity paralyses _ernestine_ and makes her lose what little wits she possesses. _camilla_ smiles whenever anyone speaks to her, and immediately does what she is told. _louis_ is very biddable. _angela_ does not answer back when her companions tease her, and takes the blame herself. _eugenie_ is affectionate and is loved by her companions who make her join in their games. although she herself is fifteen, it was a child of eight who taught her to read and write. from all these remarks it appears that the defective is a likeable creature. he is so even in proportion to the degree of his defect. with this thought in mind, we have examined the various descriptions, and have reached this very curious conclusion: the more likeable the child is represented to be, the greater the amount of retardation one may safely attribute to him. few, indeed, are the exceptions to this rule. the defective child is praised for his sweetness of disposition. if he does not understand the work which is being done in class, at any rate he does not show his want of comprehension in any noisy manner. sitting quietly in his place, he allows himself to be forgotten. the lesson can go on just as if he were not present, and usually that is just what happens. it would not be just on this account to accuse of negligence a teacher who has charge of forty to sixty pupils. the sluggishness, both mental and physical, of these children is a negative quality which an overtaxed master is sometimes weak enough to value. when the defective child becomes subject to discipline, we are told, he does not rebel; for he is obedient, respectful, and probably suggestible. sometimes the teacher may even recognise in him the presence of qualities of a more positive nature. some defectives are pleased, and even eager, to do little services. they are kind to their companions, affectionate, and grateful for attentions paid to them. as they are usually older than the other children in their class, the teacher often trusts them with little commissions. so far as one can judge of the morality of natures whose intellectual level is so low, the source of the altruistic sentiments appears to be well represented in the defective, but it remains to be considered whether his docility and complaisance may not mislead us as to the true value of his sentiments; for one characteristic of the defective is his tendency to repeat the polite formulæ or moral maxims which have been taught him. he has a surface morality, possibly purely verbal. as a last trait, it may be noted that the defective is influenced by rewards and punishments, but, owing to his defective intelligence, the effect is very fleeting. =psychological description of the ill-balanced.=--this description contrasts curiously with the preceding. in this there is nothing to be surprised at. in school the ill-balanced child is a perpetual nuisance. the teacher has no weakness for this naughty child, who is always disturbing the class and defying his authority. as we have done in the case of the defective, let us quote some of the phrases by which our correspondents sum up the unstable. _charles_ cannot sit still, nor keep in rank, and his heedlessness prevents reproof having any effect. _albert_ never obeys but with a bad grace. _martha_ always puts on an astonished look when she is checked. _maurice_ receives any criticism with impatience. _susan_ receives it with anger. _eugenie_, by tossing her head. she mimics her teacher, and makes the others laugh, so that they have to hide their faces. _octavia_ replies, "what do i care!" she bursts out laughing and continues to do what she has been forbidden. _leontine_ quibbles, answers back, and expresses aloud her bad humour. _raoul_ flies into a passion when he is reprimanded. he poses as a martyr, a victim of injustice, and sometimes even utters threats. punishment makes him give vent to intemperate language. _victor_ assumes an attitude of revolt, turns pale, and refuses to obey when anyone checks him. _lucy_ broke her pen in a fit of temper. _helen_ in the same circumstances upsets everything in her neighbourhood. _louise_ strikes her elbows on the desk, and one day she even kicked her teacher. _leon_ is quarrelsome and his companions are afraid of him. _george_ does nothing but tease his companions. he destroys their copybooks, tears pages from their books, and puts the blame on them. _charles_, who is rendered obstinate by strictness and merely irritated by punishment, seems happy when one takes an interest in him. _eugenie_, who is greatly excited by punishment and who smiles at rewards, loves to be flattered and picked out to do some little service. the three following traits are constantly met with in the descriptions of the ill-balanced: they are turbulent, boastful, and incapable of attention. to this may be reduced the psychology of the less strongly marked cases. they have an instability of body, of speech, of attention, which may result either from an excessively nervous disposition, or simply from a nature whose restlessness rebels against sedentary and silent study. but in many cases other features are present. in addition to the preceding symptoms, there are found impatience of discipline and a tendency to annoy their comrades. the ill-balanced are spoken of as brutal, deceitful, cruel; and as to their obstinacy, the abundant details in the questionnaires show that these children have left a disagreeable impression on the school staff. it is especially on their account that an outcry for special schools has arisen. the way in which these children react to discipline is very interesting. we are told that they are very little influenced by rewards, which they often receive with disdain, laughter, or irony, if they do not refuse them altogether. punishments, on the other hand, produce a bad effect. the ill-balanced nearly always become angry, and rebel against punishment, so that the teachers strive to avoid coming into conflict with them. here we have a trait which is very interesting for psychology, but very embarrassing for pedagogy. how, then, can the ill-balanced be subjected to any discipline whatever? this is an important question, which it will be all the more necessary to solve because it is the ill-balanced who profit most by special education; it is for them that one would have most hope. our advice is that, in order to control these children, account should be taken, in the first place, of their dominant tendency. the study of the answers to the questionnaires shows us that the chief thing to which one can appeal in these cases is their amour-propre, their pride, their vanity--in a word, the whole range of the egoistic sentiments. on natures of this stamp punishment cannot have much effect, seeing that it is opposed by an often indomitable pride. the end may be reached more directly, not by breaking the resistance, but by giving it a different direction. it is better to praise the ill-balanced when he has done well than to punish him for his faults. it is desirable also to show him some appreciation, or even to trust him with some duty of a very modest kind, which he may perform under discreet supervision. =mental aptitudes of the defective.=--having briefly sketched the moral aptitudes of the abnormal, let us now examine their mental aptitudes. we have here a very captivating subject of inquiry. the study of individual aptitudes ought to have been undertaken long ago in the interest of education. everyone is crying out for it. no one, or almost no one, undertakes it. in the case of the abnormal there is even more urgent need that it should be undertaken, for the younger or less intelligent the pupils, the more depends upon educational methods. when a mind is of a superior kind, very little really depends upon the culture supplied to it. if a berthelot or a pasteur should even have had imbeciles as their first masters in chemistry, they would none the less have turned out men of genius. it is those of average intelligence who have need of good methods of instruction. it is the young children who really require intelligent methods. consequently we should give the defectives the best teachers. every fault of method committed in their education may have consequences which will prejudice them later on. in order to discover the aptitudes of the mentally defective, we have three means of interrogating our questionnaires. in the first place these contain the following question: _does the child show any particular aptitude either at school or outside?_ this question has evoked replies which vary very little, for amongst the aptitudes of the children scarcely anything is mentioned but bodily occupations--errands, domestic duties, gymnastics, sewing, and drawing. in the same questionnaire another question, placed on the following page, is almost identical in form with the first: _is there anything in which the child is particularly interested?_ the replies to this second question have been a little more numerous than to the previous one. it is true that the two differ by a shade--the distinction between interest and aptitude. one may interest oneself in something for which one has no aptitude. the following table shows the distribution of the replies to the two preceding questions: the mentally defective. _aptitudes._ | _interests._ pupils. | pupils. none | none practical life | writing sewing | drawing gymnastics | sewing drawing | gymnastics | arithmetic | recitation | history | french | music | singing | reading | object lessons these two lists are not superposable, but if we take them together we shall notice that sensori-motor occupations, such as gymnastics, "practical life," sewing, writing, and drawing, are those which are most interesting to these pupils. sewing, writing, and drawing are, indeed, their favourite lessons. we should have expected that singing would not have left them indifferent, for other investigations have shown us that the majority have a good voice; but it is quite apparent that singing is less attractive to them than drawing. a very characteristic feature is the absence of any mention of composition. some of the abnormal are fond of arithmetic; none shine in composition. this fact, though negative, seems worth consideration. speaking generally, we never find that a child who is good at composition is mentally defective. we have mentioned that there is a third method of weighing the aptitudes of defective children. in our questionnaire we asked the teachers to give marks showing the relative ability of these children in the different subjects. from these marks it appears that in four subjects they are more successful than in others. these are gymnastics, drawing, writing, and reading. we regret that we did not include in our list sewing, manual work, and object lessons. here are our results in figures. these indicate for each pupil the two subjects in which he has obtained the highest marks. pupils. | pupils. reading | arithmetic writing | spelling drawing | singing gymnastics | recitation it is not at all uncommon for a defective to take the first place in writing or in drawing. this is quite a remarkable fact, although we must hasten to add that in such cases the defective is usually the oldest child in the class. all these observations are sufficiently uniform, and lead to the same conclusion. the dominant features in the defective are the senses, the concrete perceptions, and motor ability. these are the faculties which are normally developed. his constant weakness in composition shows that the function of speech is quite evidently inferior to the sensory and motor functions. let us weigh these facts and sum up. what a great mistake it would be to give to children of this kind the syllabus of instruction which has been made to suit normal children. this syllabus harmonises with the development of all the faculties. how, then, could one make children follow it whose aptitudes are limited? * * * * * inquiries by questionnaire have one defect which has often been noted. they bring together statements furnished by correspondents who are often unknown, and whose judgment and accuracy it is impossible to estimate. each of their observations, taken by itself, has little authority. it is the sum of concurring observations which should alone be taken into consideration; and even then it is necessary to be cautious before drawing any practical conclusion, because an agreement in the replies sometimes indicates nothing more than a general misconception. such doubts, which are known to all investigators, led us to decide to make direct observations on our own account upon abnormal school-children, and to compare them with normal children of the same age--a long and difficult task, as all pioneer work is. we have collected facts which we were not seeking, whilst we often failed to find what we expected. it would be impossible to summarise here everything which contact with reality has taught and suggested. we shall extract from our observations only what concerns the aptitudes of the abnormal, and shall even limit ourselves to a single category of these. it happens that we have methodical observations relating to twelve defective children of between eleven and twelve years of age. these form a sufficiently homogeneous group from the point of view both of age and of mental ability. we shall inquire what are the best marked aptitudes and the most apparent deficiencies of this little group. without denying individual differences or forgetting that defectives cannot easily be reduced to a single type, we have thought it more interesting for the present to emphasise their resemblances rather than their differences. let us, then, compare them _en bloc_ with a group of normal children of the same age and the same social position, attending the same schools, in the same district. this equivalence of conditions is necessary if we are to lay our finger on the distinctive characters of the defective child. we have subjected our twelve defectives to certain tests as speedy and precise as possible.[ ] we devised these tests before studying the returns furnished to our questionnaires, and the latter were tabulated before our observations. there have, therefore, been two studies absolutely independent, both in their mode of execution, and in their aim. consequently, any points in which they agree will be very significant. our collection of tests of mental deficiency is already known to readers of the _année psychologique_.[ ] in vol. xi. we described at length the details necessary for making use of our method of experimentation. since then dr. decroly, who specialises on defective children in belgium, has tried our methods, and verified our conclusions. the end which we have constantly set before ourselves has been to bring to light the intellectual capacity of the child, taken by itself, as distinct from what the child actually knows. our psychological examinations are consequently the very opposite of school examinations, which test chiefly the candidate's memory, his judgment very little. we have made numerous observations in this way. the best way to explain our method, and more especially our results, will be to describe a few of the experiments. _memory of pictures of known objects._--the children are allowed to look for thirty seconds at pictures of thirteen objects, which they are then told to enumerate from memory. _comparison of short lines._--two lines for comparison are drawn in ink side by side on the same sheet of paper, so that they can both be seen at a glance. we have a whole series of such pairs. between the lines, whose average length is millimetres, there is a variable difference. _estimation of weights._--five little boxes, weighing respectively , , , , and grammes, are to be arranged in order of weight. _memory of figures._--this test consists in repeating a series of figures immediately after having heard them. _memory of phrases._--the child is asked to repeat a phrase of twelve to fifteen words immediately after having heard it. we do not wish to insist on the details of these observations. they are still very incomplete. it will be necessary to experiment for a long time[ ] before it will be possible to say exactly what it is that is wanting, or that is wrong, in the mental machinery of the defective. no doubt when the classes for defectives shall be under way, when a great many such children are brought together in conditions which suit the convenience of the experimenters, the latter will be able after persevering effort to see daylight in this matter. in the meantime we must be content with a general survey. but however superficial, however defective, our first attempts may be, they may at least give us a start. let us see, then, what results have been obtained from our tests. these results clearly separate the tests themselves into two groups. to the one set the defectives furnished replies practically equivalent to those of normal children. to the other, on the contrary, they gave answers which clearly exhibited their retardation, or rather their defect. this difference would be deprived of all significance if any of the tests presented no difficulty to a normal intelligence. but in all cases the difficulty was so great that even the normal made many mistakes, and we can affirm that, whilst for the one set the two groups of children were practically equal, for the other, on the contrary, the inferiority of the defective is quite clear. the tests in which the defectives are on a par with the normal are--( ) the comparison of short lines; ( ) the memory of pictures. let us give some details of the latter test, which appears to us typical. each child individually was shown a sheet of paper, on which were pasted thirteen pictures of known objects. these pictures, drawn in black and very simple, almost reduced to outlines, represented a nose, a head of hair, a rose, two cherries, a bed, a barrel, a nail, a key, an omnibus, some eggs, a bell, a sun setting in the sea, and a mouth. we have here a test of sense memory, for the child is asked to recall a visual impression. something more, however, is necessary, for he must understand the picture and give it a name. but this constitutes no real difficulty, and the whole exercise is a test of sense intelligence. we were quite surprised to find that in this case our defectives were at the level normal for eleven years. the average of their replies is seven, which is exactly the normal value. this is shown in the following table, which gives the comparison between them and normal children of eleven: naming by memory thirteen pictures. number of pictures remembered-- normal children , , , , , , , , , . defective children , , , , , , , , . have we not here a very interesting confirmation of what we have already learned from the questionnaires? the exercise is one which certainly presents some difficulty, since the normal children forgot some of the pictures. if it had been too easy, one would not have been surprised at the fact that the two groups--the normal and the defective--were equally successful. now, in spite of the difficulty, the defective shows no inferiority as compared with the normal. any commentary would diminish the eloquence of this result. without lingering over each of the other tests, let us select from the group one which forms a remarkable contrast to the preceding. just as striking as the equality between the defective and the normal in visual memory of pictures is the difference between them in memory for phrases. the latter is a test of immediate memory. one repeats to the child a phrase of about twelve to fifteen words, and asks him to repeat it immediately afterwards. for this memory is necessary, and also voluntary attention, and some power of comprehension into the bargain; for if some of these phrases are quite easy to understand (_e.g._, germaine has not been good; she did not want to work; she will be scolded), others, again, are a little involved (_e.g._, the chestnut-tree in the garden casts the quite faint shadow of its new leaves on the ground). the number of phrases which the defectives managed to repeat correctly is very small. it averages only two. here are the figures: immediate memory of phrases. number of phrases repeated exactly-- { years , , , , , , , , , . normal children { years , , , , , , , , , , . { years , , , , , , , , , . defective children, years , , , , , , , , , , , . if one examines these results, one is surprised to find that some of the defectives are superior to normal children of the same age, since they repeat four phrases, although some of the normal repeat only three. in all experiments on groups one finds exceptions of this kind. we are glad to give examples in order to show how complex everything is. in order to comprehend such anomalies, it is necessary to analyse the exceptional cases. one generally finds then that the defective who has broken the rule has made use of a pure sense memory, has repeated like an echo without understanding. if the repetition is delayed a little, he is lost. in other cases the defective is not far removed from the normal. without stopping to discuss these exceptions, let us examine the group as a whole. when we do this we reach the important conclusion that our group of defectives resembles in a striking manner the group of children of seven years. on an average, they repeat practically the same number of phrases. the average for seven years is . ; that of the defectives of eleven years is a little less: it is . . now, to sum up, let us compare just these two extremes, the memory of pictures and the memory of phrases. is not the contrast remarkable? and does one not here hit upon one of the principal differences between the normal and the abnormal? give the defective a piece of work which interests him, which appeals to his organs of sense, and which is concrete. if the work is not too difficult, he will acquit himself tolerably well. if, however, the work involves words, phrases, composition--in a word, abstract ideas expressed in speech--the defective immediately reveals wherein his inferiority lies. abstract thought, and all other mental operations that involve it, are to him a closed domain. the replies of the teachers to our questionnaires had already led us to suspect this. our tests are a confirmation, and even an exact demonstration, of it. the normal curriculum of primary education, as one can imagine, is therefore not suitable to the mental condition of the majority of defectives. even by reducing it to its first elements, one would make only a bad fit, for if one were to diminish the abstract portion which is not intended for defectives, one would equally diminish the concrete portion, which, far from being reduced, when defectives are in question, ought to be amplified. it is necessary, therefore, to change the proportions of the different parts of the curriculum, and give the whole a special direction. we shall conclude our observations by remarking that, if we take the workshop in opposition to the class, as the symbol of concrete work opposed to the symbol of verbal work, the workshop ought in the education of defectives to become a more important place of instruction than the class. a slight reservation, however, must be made as to the value of this conclusion. in spite of the existence for a number of years of institutions for the abnormal, we have yet scarcely begun our researches. everywhere we are up against the same ignorance, and shall be so for a long time to come. our knowledge of these children is very imperfect. we do not pretend that anything we are about to say is in any way complete. thus, having set forth a quite general principle relating to concrete, intuitive, sensory education, let us hasten to add that in practice this principle must be applied to children of widely differing temperaments, and that nothing is more complicated than the pedagogy of defectives, if one desires it to be adapted to the numerous ends which it is necessary for it to attain. one will certainly bear in mind that a greater place must be given to intuition than to abstraction; one will bear this in mind in the detail of the education of defectives, as well as in its general direction, but without forgetting the numerous interests which it is necessary to satisfy. there is no question but that there will be admitted into the special schools and classes many children only slightly defective, who are destined to return as soon as possible to the ordinary school; and one would put an obstacle in the way of this return, or even make it impossible, if, from the day the child entered the special class, a totally different direction should be given to his education from that of the ordinary school. this would be both serious and troublesome. the amount of abstract material in the lessons should be diminished simply in proportion to the mental deficiency. there is no reason why the slight cases should not be taught in the special class in accordance with a programme little different from that of the elementary school, except that it gives them the benefit of greater individual attention. such individual attention is still more necessary in the case of the ill-balanced, of whom we have scarcely spoken in this chapter. it is not their insubordinate spirit which sets them against anything abstract, and one would do them a very poor service by depriving the more intelligent of them of the ordinary curriculum, and all the more as the majority of the ill-balanced are destined to improve considerably. thus there are many reasons why, in the case of certain classes of the abnormal, one should not lose sight of the usual curriculum. these reasons are as follows: the slight degree of the deficiency in certain cases, or the existence of instability without retardation, or the necessity of sending the children who improve most back to the ordinary schools. such are the reasons which are important from the school point of view. there are others with a social bearing which are more important still. at the present day it is necessary, especially in towns, that everyone should be able to read, to write, and to express himself in suitable language. it has been remarked, and justly, that reading is the triumph of abstraction, and that a defective may require two years to learn to read by syllables, and very poorly even then. no matter: if the thing is possible, even with considerable effort, such a defective ought to learn to read. this is demanded, not by the state of the child's intelligence, but by the society in which he lives, where illiteracy would bring shame upon him. in questions of this kind the indications of psychology and pedagogy should be subordinated to the needs of life. necessity makes the law. all instruction given to defectives must be dominated by the question of its practical usefulness. a pedagogy which should be fitted easily to the measure of their intelligence would be dangerous, in that it might result in making them useless. it is evident, therefore, that the problem is very complex, and it would be quite useless to attempt to express it by a single formula. the nature of each individual case must be taken into account, and one must aim at an essentially practical training, a pedagogy of ends rather than of abstract principles. our advice, consequently, is that in the meantime no definite curriculum should be fixed upon, but that the teachers of defective children should be allowed some freedom, under the cautious control of the primary school inspectors. we ask that all intelligent initiative should be accepted and encouraged, and that the teachers in special schools should frequently meet together in order that they may compare their experience. in short, we should give to the schools and classes for defectives such freedom and elasticity that the kind of education best adapted for such children would be able to evolve and perfect itself like a living organism. footnotes: [ ] on the other hand, dr. abadie found defective to ill-balanced. [ ] at the _laboratoire de pedagogie normal_, , rue grange-aux-belles. for details of the work of this laboratory see _année psychologique_, tome xiii., pp. , . [ ] [see vols. xi., , p. ; xiv., , p. ; xvii., , p. . also _bull. de la soc. pour l'Étude de l'enfant_, , p. .] [ ] [the results of later observations are embodied in the tests published in , which are given complete in the appendix.] chapter iii pedagogical examination of defective school children when legislation provides special schools and classes for the benefit of defectives, it will be imprudent to make use of legal force to bear down the will of the parents. it will be better, in the first instance, to have recourse to persuasion. it will be pointed out to the parents that their children are behindhand in their lessons. the parents, as a matter of fact, know this quite well. it will be explained to them that classes of forty pupils are too large for children like theirs, and that the teacher cannot devote sufficient attention to them. it will be explained also that classes are being organised for ten to twenty pupils at most, in which it will be possible to give individual attention. before instructing their child, it will be necessary to begin by awaking his intelligence, which involves the teacher devoting himself to him with method, order, and patience. one will appeal to the heart of these parents, and will surely manage to persuade them, especially the mothers. for such interviews we must rely upon the school teachers and the inspectors. it will only be necessary to warn them to avoid the use of certain expressions. it would never do to say to the parents that their child is an idiot, an imbecile, a fool, or even abnormal. the admission of their son or daughter into a special school should be represented to them as an advantage or even a favour. their consent should not be demanded in too formal a manner. this would make them think that it is they who are giving something, and many would refuse. in a word, much can be done by prudence, sympathy, and a little tact; and the personal experience that we have acquired has shown us that it is not difficult to gain the parents to the cause of special education. =composition of a board of examiners.=--we have now to consider how the selection of the children is to be made. it has been determined by statute that the examiners shall be three in number--the head of a special school, an elementary school inspector, and a doctor. as to the manner in which this committee is to carry out its work, the law preserves an absolute silence. when the three examiners meet in order to judge the degree of retardation of the children who are presented to them, is this absence of a definite programme embarrassing? we do not think so. a committee which is duly authorised always manages to do something. the work is done more or less empirically, perhaps, but it is done. tell the jury to find defective children, and they are sure to find them. the only question is, what will be the value of their selection? and, above all, how can so delicate a quest be saved from empiricism and rendered exact? it is to be hoped that at first there will not be too many mistakes. this would have a bad effect upon the new institution. it is unfair to a normal child to send him to a special school, just as it is unfair to a defective to keep him in the ordinary school. it is better to make such mistakes as seldom as possible. moreover, it is of the greatest interest to try to forecast the exact way in which errors are most likely to arise. in every machine there is a point of least resistance which requires to be watched. in every human institution there is a detail of organisation where fraud and charlatanism are most liable to occur. since we have supervised the organisation of some classes for defectives, and have been able by some preliminary observations to take account of these dangers, we take it upon ourselves to give warning of them in advance. we fix buoys to the rocks that they may be avoided. it seems to us that the selection of defectives calls for three varieties of experience--that of teachers, of doctors, and of psychologists. we shall proceed to indicate the services which these various persons may render. in this chapter we shall speak only of the pedagogical examination. the duty of making the first selection among the school-children and indicating those who are suspected of being defective belongs partly to the teachers and partly to the school inspectors, whose respective rôles, it seems to us, can easily be defined. a. the rÔle of the teacher: to select the children suspected of being defective. it is out of the question to make an entire school pass before a committee in order that pupils may have their mental faculties analysed. such a task, at once troublesome and useless, would require several months. one should rather, in the first place, adopt a rapid method of picking out the children _suspected of mental defect_. it is quite sufficient that they should be suspected. such a selection once made, the committee will have before it only a moderate number of candidates upon whom it will be possible to concentrate attention. let us proceed to show how the teachers may make their selection: =a retardation of three years indicates a child who should be regarded as a suspect.= a child enters the elementary school at the age of about six years. each year he ought to advance one class. from six to nine years he is in the elementary course; from nine to eleven in the intermediate course; from eleven to thirteen in the senior course. all are not quite regular. some are a little in advance, some are behind, but the majority conform to the preceding scheme. when a school is well managed, when the assignation of the children to their respective classes is made by means of suitable tests, and without too great regard to the demands of the parents, the classification which results is very good. there is then no better means of finding out whether a child is intelligent or not than to take into consideration his age and his class. intelligence, so extraordinarily difficult to judge, is indicated in the above way with a really curious exactness. a child two years behind his age, when irregularities in attendance, absence on account of illness, etc., do not explain his backwardness, is very likely to be less intelligent than one who is in, or in advance of, the usual class for his age. this amounts to judging intelligence by the degree of instruction. theoretically, such a method is open to plenty of meticulous objections, of which the most important is that we are confounding intelligence and memory. to this we shall reply that the stage of instruction reached is not the result of memory alone. it presupposes also some degree of application, some facility of comprehension, quite a collection of diverse aptitudes. the child's success in his studies is, in fact, the best indication we have of his capacity to adapt himself to the school environment. if the child is unable to keep up with the classes suited to his age, if he is unable to profit like other children from the education provided, this shows that he has not the same degree or the same kind of intelligence as his companions, and there is a presumption, if not an absolute demonstration, that his intelligence is inferior to the average, or that his character is different. from these statements, which we have expounded at length elsewhere,[ ] it follows that not only the head-master, but an entire stranger, can determine which are the less intelligent children, the less well adapted to that school, without taking the trouble to interrogate them all individually. it is only necessary to compare their position in school with their age. we thus obtain no merely subjective appreciation, but a simple statement of the actual condition of things. the only thing one must be careful about is to make allowance for irregular attendance. backwardness in school instruction is significant only when it coincides with regular attendance. at the present time the regulations as to school attendance are very little respected. in country districts there are children who do not go to school till they are eight or nine years of age. it is not surprising that they cannot read, when no one has taught them. allowance must also be made for long illnesses. when the absences have been considerable, their total amount must be subtracted. a child of nine, who has come to school at the age of six--_i.e._, the usual age--and who has been absent for about days, should, from the present point of view, be counted as eight. the school authorities will have no difficulty in making such estimates. that is their business, and they will quickly make up their minds even in a difficult case. one will, of course, bear in mind that the number of classes differs in different schools, and that certain classes are parallel. lastly, one must remember that a defective may, on account of his age, be placed in a class too advanced for his knowledge. this, indeed, is often the case. exception may be taken to the rôle that we have assigned to the teachers. we may be reminded that about two years ago, when statistics concerning defectives were being collected by circular, many of the head-masters replied in a notoriously unsatisfactory manner. even in paris one school was stated to contain per cent. of defectives, whilst not a single one was acknowledged in another in the same neighbourhood. this amounted, as m. bédorez ironically remarked, to an average of per cent. we shall reply, in the first place, by asking whether a mistake has really been committed. this cannot be taken for granted, since the proportion of defectives varies enormously from one school to another. but let us admit a mistake, and ask who is responsible. the master of the school understood badly what the circular had explained more badly still. in these circulars we actually read the following definition of defectives: "subjects who are in a condition of mental debility, possessing only a limited intelligence and a limited responsibility, which do not admit of their acquiring, at the ordinary school and by the usual methods of education, the average elementary instruction which the other pupils receive." if one interprets this badly constructed formula literally, it is evident that half the children of france must be defective, being of necessity below the average. if the teacher is to work intelligently, he must have more precise directions. after having explained to him that a defective child is one who does not adapt himself, or who adapts himself badly, to school life, one will tell him that the degrees of non-adaptation vary indefinitely; for it is quite exceptional for even a defective child not to adapt himself at all, and to learn absolutely nothing at the ordinary school. it remains, therefore, to decide what degree of retardation or of non-adaptation is to be recognised as determining a defective. according to a convention accepted in belgium, which we modify slightly, _the retardation which determines a child as a defective is two years when the child is under nine, and three years when he is past his ninth birthday_. here we have a very precise rule, easy to apply to all children, with the corrections already indicated relating to school attendance. the rule is, perhaps, a little rigid, we admit, but it will always be possible to make allowances when examining closely the individual cases to which it will have to be applied. thus, the method which we have just indicated permits the making of a first selection. this selection will be good, without being final. it will be good, for it is based upon a wide experience extending over several years. just think what it means in the way of inattention and want of comprehension if a child is three years behind. for our own part, we consider this evidence from experience of the greatest value. it is the obvious point of departure. we can and should try to interpret it and to complete it, but we are not justified in taking no account of it. let us even say boldly that if, by some unhappy chance, other finer methods should conflict with this, and indicate as defective a child who has shown himself well adapted to school life, it is school life which should be considered the more important test. how, indeed, could one call a child defective who succeeds in his studies and profits by the instruction in the normal way? thus we sum up by remarking that _we possess a very simple method which enables us to recognise all the children whom we have any right to suspect of mental deficiency_. _this method consists in taking account of the retardation of the children in their studies._ * * * * * for the recognition of the ill-balanced children the rule is the same. the head-master must pick out those children whose undisciplined character has kept them from submitting to the ordinary school régime, and has made them a continual source of disturbance. whilst the simply defective fail to adapt themselves to school life by reason of their mental deficiency, the ill-balanced fail owing to their inco-ordination of character. in the second case, as in the first, there is a similar defect of adaptation, and the best proof that this defect is present in a particular child is the continued evidence of several years, the testimony of different masters, who declare that, with the best will in the world, they cannot break in the recalcitrant child to rule. but it must be recognised that the appreciation of want of balance is more delicate, more subjective, than that of retardation. the latter is indicated by a definite incontrovertible fact--the insufficiency of instruction. on the other hand, lack of balance has only a slight effect on a child's intelligence and his success in his studies. it is indicated to outsiders especially by the complaints of the masters. and the latter, to tell the truth, may be led to exaggerate a little, especially if they see a means thereby of ridding themselves of children with whom they have not much sympathy. we shall see in a little, when we speak of the rôle of the inspector, how the latter must check the statements of the head-masters. =distribution of the pupils in a school.=--to put into practice the principle which we have just formulated, a circular is distributed to the schools asking the head-masters to arrange the children in each class according to age upon a blank table furnished to them. the work is easy, and the return should be required in a maximum period of eight days. within this period twenty elementary schools in paris supplied us with the information which we asked for through their inspectors. we give one of these returns, which we shall examine briefly, insisting only on the essential points. we ask, then, that on the table, of which a blank copy is supplied, the head-master shall give the number of children who on october --that is to say, the first day of the session--were of such and such an age--_e.g._, six or seven years. the normal ages for the different courses or standards are as follows: preparatory or infant to years of age. elementary, first year to " " elementary, second year to " " intermediate, first year to " " intermediate, second year to " " senior, first year to " " senior, second year to " " thus a child is "regular" in instruction when he is found in the class named at the age indicated. the normal age for the infant class is from six to seven years. the children of that age are entered in the table in the appropriate column. now consider the extreme ages between six and seven which obey this condition. on the one hand would be a child exactly six years of age on admission. such a child is exactly normal as regards age. he is behind by years, months, days. at the other extreme would be a child exactly seven--or, rather, one day less than seven--on admission. such a child would be behind by exactly one year. consequently, the column headed six to seven years for the infant class contains children behind by day as a minimum, and one year as a maximum. the average will therefore be behind by six months (compared to the ideal). analogous reasoning would show that the children of the infant class entered in the column headed five to six years would, on the average, be six months in advance of their age. similarly, those shown in the column headed seven to eight years would be on the average one and a half years behind. =interpretation of the tables.=--the next point is to sort out the defectives from these tables. nothing is easier if we follow the rules already given. turning to our tables, we would consider as suspects the children entered in the fourth and following columns for the infant class; in column five and following for the elementary course, first year; in column six and following for the elementary course, second year; in column eight and following for the intermediate course, first year; in column nine and following for the intermediate course, second year. if the reader will calculate the retardation implied in the columns which we designate, he will see that this retardation is equal to at least two years under the age of nine, and equal to at least three years above the age of nine. distribution of pupils in the school for boys, rue grange-aux-belles. --------+--------+-----------------------+---------------------------- | | | number of pupils who, on | | | october , were-- | | +------+------+------+------+ |regular | | | | | | classes| age | courses (parallel | to | to | to | to | |(years).| classes = a and b).|years.|years.|years.|years.| --------+--------+-----------------------+------+------+------+------+ | |supplementary | -- | -- | -- | -- | | |senior a | -- | -- | -- | -- | vi. | to | " b | -- | -- | -- | -- | v. | " |intermediate ( nd year)| -- | -- | -- | -- | iv. a. | " | " ( st year)| -- | -- | -- | | iv. b. | " | " ( st year)| -- | -- | | | iii. | " |elementary ( nd year) | -- | -- | | | ii. | " | " ( st year) | -- | | | | i. | " |preparatory | | | | -- | --------+--------+-----------------------+------+------+------+------+ | | totals | | | | | --------+--------+-----------------------+------+------+------+------+ --------+--------+-----------------------+---------------------------- | | | number of pupils who, on | | | october , were-- | | +------+------+------+------+ |regular | | to | to | to | to | classes| age | courses (parallel | | | | | |(years).| classes = a and b).|years.|years.|years.|years.| --------+--------+-----------------------+------+------+------+------+ | |supplementary | -- | -- | -- | -- | | |senior a | -- | -- | -- | -- | vi. | to | " b | -- | | | | v. | " |intermediate ( nd year)| | | | | iv. a. | " | " ( st year)| | | | -- | iv. b. | " | " ( st year)| | | | -- | iii. | " |elementary ( nd year) | | | -- | | ii. | " | " ( st year) | | -- | -- | | i. | " |preparatory | -- | | | -- | --------+--------+-----------------------+------+------+------+------+ | | totals | | | | | --------+--------+-----------------------+------+------+------+------+ --------+--------+-----------------------+---------------------------- | | | number of pupils who, on | | | october , were-- | | +------+------+------+ | |regular | | to | to | to | | classes| age | courses (parallel | | | |totals.| |(years).| classes = a and b).|years.|years.|years.| | --------+--------+-----------------------+------+------+------+-------+ | |supplementary | -- | -- | -- | -- | | |senior a | -- | -- | -- | -- | vi. | to | " b | | | -- | | v. | " |intermediate ( nd year)| -- | -- | | | iv. a. | " | " ( st year)| -- | -- | -- | | iv. b. | " | " ( st year)| -- | | -- | | iii. | " |elementary ( nd year) | -- | | -- | | ii. | " | " ( st year) | | -- | -- | | i. | " |preparatory | -- | -- | -- | | --------+--------+-----------------------+------+------+------+-------+ | | totals | | | | | --------+--------+-----------------------+------+------+------+-------+ the number of children suspected of mental deficiency obtained by this method varies extremely from one school to another, independently of the mistakes which are made by the head-masters with lamentable frequency. we have found the proportions varying from . to per cent., with all the intermediates represented. the average of suspects for ten girls' schools, with an average of pupils, was . per cent.; for eight boys' schools in the same district, and strictly comparable to the preceding, it was . per cent. it must be clearly understood that these figures are provisional. they do not correspond to real defectives, but to children _suspected_ of mental deficiency; and, moreover, they do not include the unstable, unless they are also defective. having made these deductions, one writes to the head-masters, or perhaps summons them to a meeting, in order to ascertain the names of these children and various other particulars. these particulars will refer to three main points: . give the full names and date of birth of the backward children (by two or three years, according to the distinctions given above), and indicate also whether the retardation is explained by irregular attendance, by want of application, or defective intelligence. . indicate the children who, although they do not belong to the preceding category, yet appear to be distinctly abnormal. . indicate also the children who are ill-balanced and rebellious to all discipline in the opinion of several teachers who have had them in their classes. we have already received replies which seem to us instructive, and even carry us beyond the study of the abnormal, as they may throw some light on the psychology of those who are commonly called "dunces." as a general rule, the children classed as retarded are the victims of disease, constitutional debility, or malnutrition. we find included in our lists some who are the children of nomadic parents; some who have been kept from school; some who have attended a religious school, where they learned little but sewing and writing; some who have changed their school too often; some also who are foreigners, and understand little french; and, lastly, some who have been kept back in their studies by unrecognised myopia. such causes are extrinsic to the child. the personal causes of retardation are defective intelligence, sluggishness of mind, insubordination, an eccentric and excitable nature, a constant want of attention, and, lastly, laziness. the complete and methodical study of the documents relating to children with a retardation of three years has taught us a number of interesting facts. it is very rare for the cause of the retardation to be single. usually, several causes were at work simultaneously. feebleness of mind complicated by illness is noted in per cent. of the cases. insufficient school attendance (due to other causes than illness), in conjunction with feebleness of mind, is met with in per cent. of cases. if, without taking account of those associations of causes, one enumerates simply the frequency with which each single cause of retardation is mentioned, one obtains the following percentages: feebleness of mind per cent. insufficient attendance (without illness) " illness " lack of application, laziness " if we admit, as a hypothesis, that the frequency of each of those four principal causes indicates its importance, we shall conclude that laziness very rarely explains a retardation so great as three years, and that the most important factor is undoubtedly feebleness of mind. we should have expected the teachers to give much more frequently the banal reason of lack of application. they have not done so, and these results confirm in a quite unexpected manner the convention according to which every retardation of three years should make one suspect feebleness of mind. it would be interesting to know whether any children really defective in intelligence escape the revelation furnished by our tables. we have put this question in writing to the heads of the schools, and they have notified fifteen children, or per cent., who seem to them to be clearly defective, although without a retardation of three years. on testing the statement, we found that mistakes had been made, and the sole residue of defectives who had escaped our census consisted of three subjects who wanted only a month or a few weeks to have shown clearly a retardation of three years. they were therefore on the border, and such exceptional cases are always to be found when one fixes an exact limit. there is no need to worry about them. =hostile head-masters and teachers.=--it is important to state that the procedure for selection which we have outlined can be carried out without the concurrence of the head-masters. as a matter of fact, one has to be prepared for everything, even the hostility of the school staff. it may be that a head-master who has a defective in his school refrains from mentioning the fact. it may be that he is indifferent, or does not believe in special education, or simply does not choose to put himself about; or, again, he may be timid and afraid of trouble, or may shrink from the recriminations of parents, behind whom he sees the hostile shadow of some town councillor or journalist. lastly, he may be an ignoramus who, even at this time of day, imagines that a child cannot be a defective unless he has incontinence of urine or a sugar-loaf head. we have already come across several fellows of this kind. the sceptical type is most common. we recollect a head-master who, in response to our inquiry, replied with irritating calmness: "i have five hundred pupils in my school. i am sure that not one of them is a defective. you are of a different opinion. well, my school is open. come and see for yourself." and he added with a sceptical smile: "the school doctor and myself will be very curious to learn how you manage the inquiry." as a matter of fact, the proportion of defectives in his school was just the usual one--about per cent. at the time when the government commission was holding its inquiry as to the number of defectives, we found in the statistical tables which we had in our hands that whole towns, even as important as fontainebleau, had replied "none," yet we knew by personal inquiry that that reply was wrong. the systematic reticence of the head-master is therefore already in evidence, and will certainly turn up again even when the law is in full operation. doubtless wiser counsels will prevail in the long run, and opposition will become less. but it will never disappear entirely. however, one will not be affected by it in picking out the backward children, but the children who are abnormal, though not backward, and the ill-balanced children, will perhaps escape, unless the inspector visits the school, and, knowing the disposition of the head-master, takes the precaution of questioning the teachers as to the children in their class who give them the most trouble in regard to discipline. as a rule the masters have an interest in pointing out these pupils in the hope that they will be removed. b the rÔle of the primary inspector: to act as referee. in the pedagogical examination the inspector should exercise a measure of control. it is he who sets the teachers to fill up the schedules, who interprets the returns, and estimates their value. work is better done when it is subject to inspection. the head-masters will take more care in the selection of the defectives if they know that all their cases will be examined by a person whose competence is equal to their own, and whose position is higher. the inspector, who is generally well acquainted with his personnel, will see at a glance what he ought to think of the returns which are furnished to him. he knows that one master is too severe, and another too indulgent. he has to restrain the overzealous, to stimulate the indifferent, and encourage the despondent. when it is a question of estimating a child's want of balance, it is necessary to know the character of the judge. some good teachers fail to gain the necessary ascendancy over one of their pupils, either because they are indulgent where strictness is necessary, or because by excessive brusqueness and severity they alienate natures which require to be humoured. the inspector will succeed in taking all these things into account. he will interpret correctly the facts which are laid before him, because it is his business, his _métier_. =significance of irregular attendance.=--the inspector will begin, let us suppose, by examining the returns given concerning the backward children. from the notes sent to him he will be able to distinguish between the children whose backwardness is due to irregular attendance and those who may justly be suspected of mental deficiency or want of balance. he will thus make a first selection. here are some examples of the notes referred to: _renné g----_, age thirteen years, is in the intermediate course, second year; she is therefore three years behind for her age. the explanation given by the teacher is as follows: "had contagious ophthalmia; not admitted to school till ten. intelligence middling." if the return is correct, one is not surprised that the child has not made more progress. _suzanne m----_, age twelve and a half years (two years behind); always very delicate and frequently absent; of average intelligence. _yvonne d----_, age ten and a half years (two years behind); lived a long time on a boat without going to school; intelligence average; very industrious. _eugenie v----_, age eleven and a half years (three years behind); educated at a convent school until october last; intelligence little developed; slow of comprehension; writes and sews pretty well; spelling poor. _suzanne b----_, age eleven and a half years (two years behind); an intelligent and industrious child, who has travelled much with her parents, and afterwards stayed in a little boarding-house. at school since october; she has made great progress. _anna e----_, age eleven and a half years (two years behind); born in german switzerland, brought up in england, and has been in paris only a year and a half. _germaine g----_, age ten years (three years behind); very short-sighted. it was only last year that it was noticed that this defect of vision was keeping the child from learning to read. since spectacles were provided she has made rapid progress. _marguerite l----_, age ten years (two years behind). this child has some affection of the eyes; she has been operated on several times. without pretending to give a final opinion on the above cases, one may believe that the retardation is due to the ailment or to irregular attendance. if it were necessary, one might make further inquiries at the schools previously attended by the child, or find out at the present school the exact number of days of absence. in other cases it seems clear that it is the intelligence of the child that is at fault. for example-- _jeanne l----_, age ten years (two years behind); attends school regularly; stupid and lazy. _hortense g----_ (two years behind); irritable temper; very backward in arithmetic and spelling; intelligence mediocre. _marie r----_ (two years behind); intelligence very mediocre; inattentive; progress very slow. _blanche b----_ (three years behind); intelligence much below the average; has some slight aptitude for sewing and arithmetic, but very backward otherwise; incapable of giving a reply indicative of good sense and reflection. _jeanne b----_ (two years behind); intelligence decidedly mediocre; none of her answers particularly sensible. when the inspector has read these notes and formed an opinion on the children, and obtained as far as necessary additional information about their school attendance,[ ] etc., he will make his first choice. he will decide which children are to be examined, and will have them brought to him. be it understood, then, that the child must now be presented, and that it is by questioning him that the inspector will form an opinion of his mental level. this examination is important. the inspector must observe the child, induce him to talk, watch the play of his features. in this way he receives a living impression which rarely deceives an experienced eye. he will even chat with him a little about something--for example, the occupation of his parents.... after these preliminaries, the examination proper begins. it includes the estimation of the degree of instruction and the degree of intelligence. tests of instruction. a child is presented to the inspector, for example, as belonging to the intermediate course, first year. is this correct? it may be that the child is at the foot of the class, or is even incapable of following the lessons. thus, it may be that his class gives a very poor indication of his capacity. there are plenty of cases where the head-master, in order to please the parents, puts a child in a class too high for him. a rapid examination will suffice to test the grading. this testing is absolutely necessary, and presents no difficulty to the inspectors. they have the fortnightly report brought to them, examine the pupil's marks and his exercises, whereby they form a first impression. it is then necessary to ask some questions, and on this point we have something to say with respect to method. there are two ways in which the degree of instruction may be tested. there is what we may call the _casual method_, which consists in putting the first questions that come into the mind; and there is the _systematic method_, which consists in putting questions arranged in advance, whose difficulty is known, and for which we have a scale (p. ), which shows the average number of errors to be expected from normal children of each age. the latter method takes no longer than the former, and is even easier, because it makes no demand on the imagination. moreover, we consider it quite indispensable for fixing in an objective manner the degree of instruction of the defectives on the day of their admission to the special school. it is very important that this degree of instruction should be definitely known, because it will be necessary to refer to it every time one wants to find out to what extent the child is profiting by the special instruction. we shall return to this point in our concluding chapter. it has seemed to us that the test of instruction might bear upon three exercises, which are easily marked--reading, arithmetic, and spelling. here is a very simple table of tests (p. ), of which we have made much use. it has been arranged with the help of m. vaney. the table is suited to the elementary and to the intermediate course, and that is sufficient for examining defectives, since none of them are found in the senior division. it is scarcely necessary to say that this table of tests is the outcome of careful experiment. we have established for each age the average acquirements of all the children of that age whatever their place in school. one might quite as well have taken into account only the results given by typical children in the class proper to their age, but on reflection we rejected this proceeding as arbitrary, because it is affected by the difficulty of the curriculum, which is constructed _a priori_, whilst the average furnished by all the children of a given age is less artificial and is an adequate expression of the reality. let us remark in passing that these two methods of calculation do not lead to equivalent results. the average furnished by the _typical_ children is higher than that furnished by _all_ the children, for, as we have shown above, more children are backward than in advance. lastly, the time of year when the tests are made is not a matter of indifference. for spelling and arithmetic the time chosen was the end of february--that is, the middle of the session. for reading we are obliged to make use of results a little more advanced, for they were furnished later, namely, in june. scale showing knowledge acquired by pupils of elementary schools. ----------+--------------+--------------+---------------------+ | | | | age of | | | | children | | | + on | | | | october | | grade of | | . | course. | reading. | arithmetic. | ----------+--------------+--------------+---------------------+ years | | | | to | preparatory | sub-syllabic | from apples take | | | to syllabic | away (answer ) | | | | | | | | | | | | | " | elementary | hesitating | subtract pence | | (first | | from pence. | | year) | | (answer ) | | | | | | | | | " | elementary | hesitating- | a box contains | | (second | fluent | oranges. if are | | year) | | sold, how many will | | | | be left? | | | | (answer, ) | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | " | intermediate | fluent | to make a dress, | | (first | | yards of stuff | | year) | | are required. how | | | | many dresses can be | | | | made with yards, | | | | and how much will | | | | be left over? | | | | (answer, dresses | | | | and yards left) | | | | | " | intermediate | fluent- | a workman makes | | (second | expressive | shillings in | | year) | | february. he | | | | spends | | | | shillings. how | | | | much does he save | | | | per day, february | | | | having days? | | | | (answer, | | | | s. -½d.) | ----------+--------------+--------------+---------------------+ ----------+-----------------------+-------------------------------- | number of mistakes | age of | in dictation | children +-------+-------+-------+ on |phrases|phrases|phrases| october | , , | , , | , . | . | , . | . | |spelling (dictation). ----------+-------+-------+-------+-------------------------------- years | | | | to | | | | _phrase ._ Émile est un petit | | | | garçon bien sage, il écoute | | | | son papa et sa maman, il va | | | | à l'école. | | | | " | | | | _phrase ._ j'ai une tête, | | | | deux bras, deux jambes, une | | | | bouche, vingt dents, une | | | | langue, dix doigts. | | | | " | | | | _phrase ._ le soleil brille | | | | déjà de ses plus gais rayons. | | | | les hommes partent en | | | | chantant. les bergers sont | | | | heureux de la belle journée | | | | qui se prépare, ils suivent | | | | au pâturage le grand troupeau | | | | des vaches pesantes. | | | | " | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | phrase . le garçon de ferme, | | | | de son pas lourd, entrait | | | | dans la grange, encore | | | | obscure, ou nous réposions. | | | | les boeufs mugissaient tout | | | | bas. dans la cour le coq, les " | | | | poules, le chien, allaient | | | | et venaient. | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | ----------+-------+-------+-------+-------------------------------- let us now explain the details of the exercises shown on our table. =reading.=--the proceeding we adopt consists essentially in distinguishing five grades of reading: . _sub-syllabic._--the child reads in syllables, but very slowly and with many mistakes. . _syllabic._--this consists in stopping at every syllable, but reading these pretty correctly. thus the child reads "the--sol--di--er--car--ries--a--big--gun." . _hesitating._--there are stops as in ( ), but they are less frequent. the child reads by words or groups of words--e.g., "the soldier carries--a big gun." . _fluent._--there are no stops except at the marks of punctuation, but the reading is monotonous, as if the child does not understand what he reads. the voice may fall at the end of the sentences. _ . expressive._--the child shows by his intonation that he understands what he reads. we found it necessary, as may well be believed, to use not only the expressions _syllabic_ reading, _fluent_ reading, etc., but compound expressions, such as _hesitating-fluent_, _fluent-expressive_, and even compound expressions with accentuation of one of the epithets, as hesitating-_fluent_. this is very useful in practice. we have stated that the scale of reading was founded on experiments made by m. vaney at the end of the school year. we have modified it slightly in consequence of experiments made by ourselves in february. it may be of interest to give here the table arranged by m. vaney. it has been arranged not by age, but by class. ---------------+----------------------------------------------+------- | | | number of children who have the | | following grades of reading. | +-----+--------+----------+---------+----------+ | | | | | | |none.|syllabic|hesitating| fluent. |expressive|totals. ---------------+-----+--------+----------+---------+----------+------- | | | | | | infant | | | | -- | -- | elementary | | | | | | (first year) | -- | | | | -- | elementary | | | | | | (second year)| -- | -- | | | | intermediate | | | | | | (first year) | -- | -- | | | | intermediate | | | | | | (second year)| -- | -- | | | | intermediate | | | | | | (second year)| -- | -- | | | | senior | -- | -- | -- | | | +-----+--------+----------+---------+----------+-------- | | | | | | totals | | | | | | ---------------+-----+--------+----------+---------+----------+-------- we shall now give some hints as to the method of procedure. reading is a test which requires only a minute. one chooses a text which the children can understand easily, preferably a lively piece with dialogue, so that one may judge more easily whether the pupil can read with expression. one should avoid prolonging the reading for more than forty-five seconds, for a young child tires quickly and reads worse at the end of a minute than at the beginning. instead of contenting oneself with judging that the child reads well or ill, which does not mean very much, it is a great advantage to adopt these five grades of reading, which are easy to distinguish with a little practice, and are less subjective than might be imagined, for two judges generally give the same mark. on referring to the scale, it will be noticed that children quickly pass from syllabic reading to hesitating reading, but the passage from hesitating to fluent reading is slower and more troublesome. one will notice this difficulty in practice. by way of example let us quote our judgment of the grades of reading in the case of some backward children, and our consequent estimates of the degree of retardation. we draw them from our own observations made in a class for defectives in paris. -------+--------------+-----------------------+--------------- name. | age. | grade of reading. | retardation. -------+--------------+-----------------------+--------------- coch | years | _hesitating_-fluent | years grio | -½ " | hesitating-fluent | -½ " sev | -½ " | hesitating-fluent | " coff | " | syllabic-hesitating | " ro | " | syllabic-_hesitating_ | " ostro | -½ " | hesitating-_fluent_ | " -------+--------------+-----------------------+--------------- it will be noticed that in spite of their advanced age none of these children have attained the fluent grade of reading. in marking the reading one is sometimes at a loss owing to the absence on the scale of an exact description. thus little coff is judged syllabic-hesitating. the scale does not contain such a combination, which ought to figure between the syllabic reading of the infant class and the hesitating reading of the elementary class, first year. one may calculate the retardation either by admitting the existence of this intermediate term, or by marking coff's reading "hesitating." the choice is of little practical importance, since its effect is a variation in the amount of retardation of only six months. =arithmetic.=--although arithmetical ability depends upon special aptitude, and a child may be quite intelligent though backward in arithmetic, the tests here chosen are so elementary, and the ignorance one tolerates is so great, that failure is of serious significance. we follow here the directions of m. vaney, who has taken the trouble to simplify them at our request. all the questions in arithmetic ought to be dictated. this may even be done collectively. it is essential not to interpose to ask the child what operation is to be done. such help would make the work much too easy, and indeed that is the very problem which has to be solved in the very exact and carefully considered form in which it has been stated. it is the problem rather than the operation which requires intelligence. moreover, it will be noted that the difficulty of our mode of expression is calculated. the words _subtract_, _take away_, _remain_, ought not to be replaced by synonyms, and still less should they be explained. even when, as often happens, the child makes a mistake in the first problem (for example, - = ), he must not be allowed to stop there; his mistake might be due to carelessness. one must always try the higher problems until one obtains a clear demonstration that the child is incapable of solving them. m. vaney has suggested a scale of marking for these sums. it enables one to take into account slight differences by the aid of a system of points. here it is: _correction of sums._ _first sum_ ( point).-- point for correct answer (_vide_ p. ). _second sum_ ( points).-- point for subtraction; point for correct answer. _third sum_ ( points).-- point for correctly written; point for subtraction; point for correct answer. _fourth sum_ ( points).-- points for correct division ( if wrong); points for the remainder ( if obtained by long division). _fifth sum_ ( points).-- points for the subtraction ( if answer wrong); points for correct division ( if it is wrong). _sixth sum_ ( points).--a dressmaker buys yards of velvet at s. d. a yard and yards of cloth; she pays for the whole £ . find the price of the cloth per yard. points for the price of the velvet; points for the price of the cloth ( for subtraction, if answer wrong); points for price of cloth per yard ( for division if answer wrong). _seventh sum_ ( points).--a merchant mixed pints of wine at s. a pint with pints at s. d. a pint; at how much per pint must he sell the mixture in order to gain s.? etc. this scale enables us to determine by the total number of points obtained the level of the child in arithmetic, and at the same time we find out what sums can be done by the pupils of each age. this is shown in the table. results of arithmetic tests in an elementary school in paris. --------+-------+---------+-------+--------------------------+------- all the |average|children |average| |average children|points.|in proper|points.| all children in class-- |points. of-- | | class. | | | --------+-------+---------+-------+--------------------------+------- years| . | years | |infant | . " | . | " | |junior (first year) | . " | . | " | | " (second year) | . " | . | " | |intermediate (first year) | . " | . | " | |intermediate (second year)| . " | . | " | |senior | . " | . | | | | " | . | | | | --------+-------+---------+-------+--------------------------+------- it will be noticed in the table that the averages are a little less when calculated on _all_ the children. we have indicated this difference already, and have explained the reason for it. we have based our scale upon the marks obtained by all the children. in practice we consider that m. vaney's system of points is not indispensable. it is sufficient to find out whether or not the pupil can do the sum set. if he can, he is at that level; if not, he must be placed in the grade below. some examples will show how we use these results. we select them from a class of defectives. _roger b----_, age ten and a half years, is asked orally, for he cannot write: "if i had apples and ate , how many would be left?" he replies first , then . one then tries easier sums. _q._ "i have apples, and eat ?" _r._ "three are left." _q._ "i have apples, and eat ?" _r._ "there are left." _q._ "i have apples, and eat ?" _r._ "there are left." evidently this child does not clear even the first step. he has therefore four years and a half of retardation. in this connection let us remark that as roger is a child whose attendance has been regular, it follows that in his four and a half years at school he has scarcely learned more than a normal child learns in two months. we recently met with a similar case at bicêtre. this was a child of twelve, who had begun to learn his letters at the age of four, and who did not yet know how to spell! in presence of such cases one may well ask whether the teacher who has not managed in four and a half years or in eight years to teach a defective child what a normal child learns in a month has not wasted his own time and that of the defective. at this point let us call attention to a defect in the mechanical calculation of retardation. little roger, who is ten and a half years, and cannot yet read by syllables, has only four and a half years of retardation, if we apply to him the usual rule. it would therefore appear that he is at the same level of intelligence as a child of thirteen and a half, who belongs to the intermediate course, first year, for the latter has also a retardation of four years and a half. the error of this method of calculation is at once apparent. the real significance of retardation is proportionate to the class and course which the pupil has reached. we shall return presently to the exact estimation of retardation. let us quote another example to show the application of the arithmetical test. _ostrow_, twelve and a half years, replies correctly to questions , , and . at the fourth he hesitates and begins by multiplying by , and obtains as answer , which is doubly inexact, because he ought not to have multiplied, and the multiplication is incorrect. then he draws back, and tries a division of by ; he obtains an incorrect answer ( ), which does not satisfy him. finally, he tries a multiplication: says times makes . he next adds several times to reach , but he becomes confused, and finishes by finding the number , which is almost correct. this child is therefore at stage ; he does not clear it, but he attempts it. look at the scale. we give him full points for problems , , and , plus points for problem , or a total of , which puts him at the level of children of eight and a half years, which amounts to a retardation of four years. =spelling.=--the test of spelling is a piece of dictation given individually or collectively. the scale contains the first phrases of the dictation. we reproduce them all here, pointing out the grammatical difficulties which they contain, and the scale for marking faults which seemed to us most fair. [we quote the phrases in french, as a translation would not indicate the real difficulties. it will be observed that in many cases correct spelling implies grammatical knowledge.--tr.] _phrase ._--to write phonetically, without liaison, a phrase dictated in the ordinary vocabulary of the child. _example._--Émile est un petit élève bien sage; il écoute son papa et sa maman; il va à l'école. _phrase ._--to put the _s's_ of the plural to words chosen from the vocabulary of the child. _example._--j'ai une tête, deux bras, deux jambes, une bouche, vingt dents, une langue, et dix doigts. _phrase ._--plural of qualifying adjectives in simple cases; verbs to the third person plural, present indicative. _example._--le soleil brille déjà de ses plus _gais_ rayons. les hommes _partent_ en chantant. les bergers sont _heureux_ de la belle journée qui se _prépare_: ils suivent au pâturage le _grand_ troupeau des vaches _pesantes_. _phrase ._--feminine of the qualifying adjectives without phonetic indication; verbs with the plural endings _ons_, _ont_, _ez_, _aient_. _exercise._--le garçon de ferme, de son pas lourd, _entrait_ dans la grange encore _obscure_, ou nous _réposions_. les boeufs _mugissaient_ tout bas. dans la cour le coq, les poules, le chien, _allaient_ et _venaient_. _phrases , , and ._--finals of verbs in the singular of the different tenses of the four conjugations. past participle with or without _avoir_. infinitive in _er_, and past participle in _é_. _example._--joyeux merle, ne _viens_ pas dans le bocage. _prends_ garde à ce méchant qui _veut_ te saisir et t'_enfermer_. pendant que je te _parle_, tu _viens picorer_ les raisins que l'oiseleur a _disposés_ comme un piège. ils sont _garnis_ de glu: si tu y _touches_, c'en est fait de ta liberté. _method of marking mistakes._ one mistake for a letter omitted. one mistake for a letter too much. one mistake for a letter substituted for another. there may therefore be several mistakes in the same word, but the number of mistakes for any word cannot be greater than the number of letters in the word. a word omitted counts as many mistakes as it has letters. the liaison of two words counts for one mistake. failure to join the two parts of a word also counts one mistake. it is to be noticed that we do not speak of grades of spelling--that is to say, of different phrases which the children of each age should be able to write without mistake. no doubt such could be found. but we have been content to count the mistakes; it is by the number of mistakes that the children of each age are distinguished. the dictation given in february by m. vaney in his school and corrected by the teachers there has enabled us to draw up the following table, which shows the number of mistakes committed, counted by the method indicated above:[ ] ---------------+------+---------------------+------------------------ | | | phrases. | | +----+----+----+----+---- children. |class.| course. | st | nd | rd | th | th ---------------+------+---------------------+----+----+----+----+---- to years | | preparatory | | | -- | -- |-- to years | | elementary (first | | | | -- |-- | | year) | | | | | to years | | elementary (second | | | | |-- | | year) | | | | | to years | | intermediate (first | | | . | . | | | year) | | | | | to years | | intermediate (second| | | | | | | year) | | | | | to years | | senior | | | . | . | ---------------+------+---------------------+----+----+----+----+---- to show how we classify a child from the point of view of spelling, let us take an example. we shall choose _ostrow_, the defective whom we have already tested in arithmetic. he writes the first phrase with one mistake, the second with one mistake, the third with eight mistakes; he is at the level of a child of nine to ten (_vide_ table, p. ). he has therefore a retardation of three years. he must be reckoned as slightly feeble-minded.[ ] we now understand the manner of judging the capacity of a child in arithmetic, reading, and spelling. which of all these tests is of the greatest value? we shall reply to this question by giving a summary in a few words of the tests we applied to twenty children in a special class. the amount of retardation varied considerably from one child to another, and for the same child from one test to another. on the average, the amount of retardation was . years for spelling, years for reading, and . years for arithmetic. these children did not do so badly in spelling; there was even one who was at the normal level. it was especially in the problems that their deficiency was noticeable, because the problem requires not only memory, but some understanding. they have great difficulty in defining what is the proper arithmetical operation. when addition is necessary they have a tendency to subtract, and if they ought to divide they will more readily multiply. these mistakes lead to absurd results, which usually do not put them about, unless their attention is drawn to the absurdity. a defective will admit quite readily that if i have apples, and sell , i shall have left. these results show that in the ordinary school they do, we will not say too much spelling, but too little arithmetic in comparison to the amount of spelling. finally, we again insist upon the evidential value of methodical tests. we demand that the elementary school inspector should have these tests carried out without assistance to the pupils, without intervention to indicate the solution or the step to take. he must neither assist nor do the lesson, but simply note the result achieved. he must therefore reduce himself to the easy rôle of a benevolent spectator. =retardation and knowledge percentage.=--we said above, in estimating retardation, account should be taken of the course to which the pupil belongs--that is to say, the grade of instruction to which he has already attained. a child of nine years of age who has a retardation of three years has learned absolutely nothing; on the other hand, a child of twelve years who has a retardation of three years has learned something, since he has reached the intermediate course, first year. the difference between the two pupils is apparent; probably it will increase still more as years go on. to understand the matter clearly, it is necessary to compare the amount of retardation with the period of school attendance. the latter may be represented by the figure . thus, our child of nine, who has learned nothing, has a retardation of three years in three years at school--that is to say, a percentage of ; our child of twelve, who is in the "intermediate course, first year," has made in six years half the normal progress; he has therefore a "knowledge percentage" of . such figures have evidently a quite different significance from those of the amount of retardation. our opinion is that it suffices to make use of the simple calculation of retardation in selecting the defectives, for it is an easy and useful method; but when one is in the presence of a child, and desires to estimate his knowledge, not only for the actual moment, but with reference to his future and his capacity for learning, it is necessary to note also, and more especially, his "knowledge percentage." we suggest the following schedule to be filled up after the examination of the child: =examination of instruction of a child proposed for special class.= date of examination: place of examination: full name of pupil: date of birth of pupil: this child has attended .......... school, ...... class. attendance regular or irregular? has he been able to follow his class? what is the amount of his retardation? _reading._ (syllabic, hesitating, fluent, expressive, intermediate--_e.g._, fluent-expressive.) observations on reading: _arithmetic._ the pupil can do the problems noted without mistake: (refer to scale.) observations on arithmetic: _spelling._ phrase dictated: number of mistakes: _conclusion._ retardation in reading (taking account of school attendance): retardation in arithmetic (_ibid._): retardation in spelling (_ibid._): knowledge percentage: name and position of examiner: in spite of the lengthy details into which we enter, it is evident that all this work of examination can be done pretty rapidly. the arithmetic alone is a little long, because it is necessary to allow time to put the child at his ease. we may put the total examination at fifteen minutes. often it will be possible to abridge the time. the inspector is now in a position to estimate the retardation of the pupil and his knowledge percentage. he has several means at his disposal--the evidence of the teachers, the notes concerning the pupil, the examination of his copybook, observation of the attitude of the child, his physiognomy, etc., and, above all, the exact and personal test which he has made. is this enough? when the inspector has established the retardation and determined its causes, may he, should he, give his opinion immediately? in most cases, without doubt, a further inquiry is not necessary. but in other cases the need of further inquiry is felt. instruction is not everything, and there are some children who have difficulty in assimilating school knowledge owing to want of aptitude, to inattention, to laziness, who are yet quite intelligent. it is the intelligence of these children that one would like to determine, and for this it is necessary to make use of some tests of intelligence. we propose, therefore, for the inspectors a last examination, a psychological one. let no one accuse us of complicating the examinations. we do not impose them, we do not even advise them in all cases. but these tests are none the less very valuable tools to which one is very happy to have recourse when one feels embarrassed. psychological examination. this consists in putting the following questions,[ ] which have been grouped in such a manner that the four first can be answered by normal children at seven years of age, the five following by normal children at nine years of age, and the four last by normal children at eleven years of age. tests of intelligence. _seven years._ . if you were late for school, what would you do? . if you lost a train, what would you do? . if one is lazy and does not want to work, what happens? . if you were tired and had not enough money to take an omnibus, what would you do? _nine years._ . if one needed sixpence, how could one get it? . why should we not spend all our money, but put a little past? . if you break an object that does not belong to you, what should you do? . if a companion should strike you without meaning it, what should you do? . if you require some good advice, what should you do? _eleven years._ . before taking part in anything important, what should you do? . why do we forgive a bad deed done in anger more readily than a bad deed done without anger? . if anyone asks your opinion about a person whom you know very little, what would you do? . why should one judge a person by his acts rather than by his words? these questions present various difficulties, both in thought and in vocabulary. we have tried them upon a great number of school children, and they correspond pretty exactly to the level of children at the ages indicated. the answers of the children may be good, passable, mediocre, or negative (the child makes no reply), or even absurd or unintelligible. in marking the replies one does not take account of a wrong word or an awkward phrase, but considers the meaning and whether the child has really understood. it may seem that marking these replies would be rather delicate and arbitrary, but in practice the difficulty is not great. here are some examples: ( ) the reply, "ask some capable person, a master, a parent," is a good reply. "ask it," "listen for it," are passable replies. ( ) the reply, "pay and apologize," is good. "pay for it," is passable. ( ) the reply, "forgive him," is better than the reply, "don't tell tales." ( ) the reply, "hurry up," is better than, "ring the bell," "hurry to-morrow," "one is kept in." ( ) the reply, "one remains ignorant," is better than, "one is punished." ( ) the reply, "take a rest, then walk," is better, being more explicit, than simply, "walk." we mark the good replies , the passable , the mediocre , the absurd and silence . silence sometimes makes one hesitate. it may result from timidity, or even from prolonged reflection. it is necessary, without changing the form of the question, to encourage the child and to press him to reply. with a little practice one can easily see who is trying to find an answer and who does not understand. we have stated that normal children of eleven years of age replied to the questions to . it must be understood that by this we mean that the majority replied. there are no tests which can characterise all the subjects without exception of a given group. there are always failures. by way of example, we shall quote the observations we made in an elementary school with our questions to , which we put to all the children of eleven, who were distributed, according to their ability, in the different classes. there were thirty-six of these pupils. the maximum of marks obtainable was , since there were four questions, and a good reply was worth . we then obtained the following averages: tests of intelligence put to normal children of eleven years of age. average marks. senior, first year intermediate, second year intermediate, first year . in the "intermediate course, second year," there were two children who obtained and . in the "intermediate course, first year," there were four who got , and one who got only . what were these pupils, who had certainly not reached the average intellectual level of eleven years? two are said to be defectives by the head-master. let us subtract them, and there remain five; and these work sufficiently well to remain in their class and to follow the lessons. their success is a very important fact. a child may not have very much intelligence, but if he has a good memory, application, and will, he is regular in his studies, and this compensates for the mental feebleness. we have often noticed this. if a child is regular in his school work, the question whether he is a defective does not present itself. it only presents itself if the case is reversed. supposing he is very clearly backward, by two years, by three years, with a sufficient school attendance. if, in spite of this retardation, the psychological examination shows that he is all the same quite intelligent, this is a favourable circumstance of which he should have the advantage. in other terms, the psychological examination is capable of showing that he is normal, even when he is behindhand in his studies. this examination cannot, in any case, serve to make him be regarded as defective if he is regular in his studies. this is why we place this examination last. here are some very good replies from normal children: _g. r----_: . it would be necessary to consider where the affair would lead us. . because when a bad action is done without anger one knows what one is doing, while when one is angry one does not know what one is doing. . one should say nothing. if one does not know the person one cannot tell what he is. . by his words he may deceive us. by his acts we can tell what he is. _g----_: . it is necessary to think what one is going to do. . because when one acts without anger one has thought beforehand, and is more to blame; while, on the other hand, it is an act of passion, and afterwards one regrets what one has done. . i would say that it would be necessary to know him first and then afterwards to judge him, not to say anything bad or good about him without knowing him. . because there are people who say words and often do not do them. here are some replies which are mediocre or absurd: . you should try to ask the particulars of the person you do not know. (mediocre.) . because his acts are more terrible while his words are less threatening. (mediocre.) . because the action which has been done in anger is not so violent. (mediocre.) . because you must not speak after the person who speaks. (absurd.) in a class of defectives of eleven years of age we obtained from seven children an average of replies equal to . . this figure, therefore, is considerably less than that of the normal children regular in their studies, and even than that of the normal with a retardation of two years. let us note in passing a very curious fact. we had had to examine these defectives before their admission into the special class. now, the teachers sent us as defective two children who were clearly intelligent, for one of them obtained five marks and the other eight. let us give the replies of the latter, whose name was cler, age eleven years: . you would have to think. (good.) . because anger is less serious. (absurd.) . say nothing bad about him, because i do not know him well. (good.) . because words are not correct. it is not certain that he will do it. (passable.) these replies are evidently not very brilliant, but they are so superior to the level of a defective that we have sent this child back to the ordinary school. we have since learned a fact which was not originally communicated to us. this child came from the country, and he did not begin to go to school until the age of ten. to sum up, we offer the psychological examination as a means of rehabilitating a child who has a marked degree of retardation. that is its sole utility. never, in any case, must this examination be used to label as defective a child who keeps up with his lessons. * * * * * a last word regarding the necessity of these examinations. we know that, after having read the preceding pages, more than one inspector, more than one teacher, will exclaim, "what is the use of all this? i am quite accustomed to questioning children, and i don't require such precautions in order to distinguish between those who are intelligent and those who are not. by two or three questions which are quite familiar to me i can judge the state of instruction." we have paid homage to the ability of the teachers and inspectors sufficiently often to be permitted to maintain here against those who would contradict us the necessity of our methods or of others of a similar kind. in order to determine the degree of intelligence or the state of instruction of a child one would require to have in mind the normal levels. now, frankly, who knows what these are? let any inspector, any teacher, glance over our test questions. he will be very much at a difficulty to say whether it is at nine years or at seven years that a child ought to be able to reply suitably to a particular question. we will go even farther. let an inspector look at our scale, and say at what age reading is "fluent," at what age a child should write the third phrase with less than ten mistakes. just let him try, and he will find the result. let us add that people who are neither inspectors nor teachers will be still more embarrassed. we recollect that at the recent opening of a special class some eminent people appeared much astonished at the intelligence of the pupils. they were surprised at children of twelve years who made replies of which in reality normal children of eight should have been capable. it is impossible to form a correct judgment about matters so delicate unless one makes use of exact tests. we insist upon this because we foresee that all who visit the class for defectives will be subject to this illusion. all the more will they have an optimistic tendency to overestimate the intelligence and instruction of the children since they know in advance that they are going to see defectives, and consequently have a preconceived expectation of seeing degraded imbeciles with low foreheads and dirty habits. they will be quite surprised to find that the great majority of defectives do not answer to this description, and seeing that they have fallen into an error, they will correct themselves as usual by falling into the opposite mistake. =estimation of want of balance.=--if it is easy to determine backwardness by a direct examination of a child's state of instruction, the difficulty of establishing a lack of mental balance is, on the other hand, very great. such want of balance is indicated by breaches of discipline, inattention, naughtiness, lying, violence, brutality, etc. but it would be a very unruly child who would not behave quietly when taken apart by the inspector. isolated in the examination room, surrounded by strange, grave people, the child shrinks into himself. he has little occasion or desire for a display of rebellion or naughtiness when his comrades are not there to admire him. possibly an exact estimation of his reactions, of his motor ability, of his power of attention, would indicate the presence of some anomalies; but this is not certain, and is not to be relied upon. there may be some hope in that direction for the pedagogy of the future, but scientific investigations cannot help us to-day. in short, mental want of balance cannot, in the majority of cases, be the object of direct examination. how, then, can it be estimated? indirectly, by the evidence of others. the inspector, then, must be content to accept the facts which are given to him by the teacher, but he must not accept them altogether on trust. are these facts correct? are they probable? is any evidence of them to be found? have they been altered in the telling? such will be the first queries to awaken the critical spirit of the inspector. then it must not be forgotten that he can question the parents, and hear their replies before letting them know the opinion of the teacher, and that everything they say will help him to judge not only the child, but the family circumstances in which he lives. the ill-balanced are often spoiled, or only children, or children not looked after, or children whose father has disappeared. the sons of widows form a considerable contingent. now, the inspector will gain a good deal of information from the school history of the child. the ill-balanced is a nomad. he has attended several schools. it is important to find out what impression he has left behind him. the proof of want of balance is not to be taken from a single teacher. if three teachers, at least, whose pedagogic reputation is good, agree about a child, the chances are that their estimate is correct. the inspector will resort to such controls, and if he is not satisfied, and if the alleged facts are not very serious, he will remove the child to another class or another school rather than send him to a class for defectives. =elimination of hospital or asylum cases.=--only defectives likely to improve are to be admitted to the special schools. that is only common sense. everyone knows that the epithet "defective" does not belong to a single type. there are various categories which extend between two extremes: the purely _vegetative idiot_ who cannot speak, or walk, or even feed himself; and the slightly _feeble-minded_, who may easily be taken for normal. in spite of all our sympathy for these poor creatures whom nature has treated so cruelly, we could not think of supplying them without distinction with all the benefits of education. it is certain that the worst affected would not profit much thereby. it is pure folly to devote six or eight years to teaching the letters to a child who will never be able to read, or who, if he should manage to read a little, will not understand what he reads. to such an unfortunate it is quite enough to give lessons in walking, feeding, dressing himself, and in simple occupations, such as dusting or sweeping. such cases do not require schools so much as places where they can be taken care of. these will cost less to establish, especially in the country. educational efforts should be concentrated on the defectives who are less profoundly affected. it is they alone whom one should try to instruct. this is the practice which is rightly followed abroad. for administrative purposes the defectives of different grades may be divided into two groups, medical cases and educational cases, or preferably, in order to obviate the use of the equivocal term "medical," we may speak simply of hospice cases and school cases to show the difference in their destination. the exact terms employed matter little so long as we understand what we mean by the words. we have just pointed out the importance of reserving the schools for defectives for improvable cases. but it is necessary to correct this word "improvable," because all defectives can be improved more or less. their asserted _arrest_ of development is not complete, and the expression is equivocal. it would be better to replace the word "improvable" by the following more precise phrase: "capable of being taught to gain, in part, their own living." which of them are in this position? unfortunately, we do not know. all such questions should have been solved long ago, since thousands of defectives have passed into the hospices. it would have been enough to have followed them up, to have found out what became of them, and to have drawn conclusions. but this has never been done methodically, and for the present we are reduced to conjecture. the nearest estimate we can form is that the social value of any individual case, not epileptic, is in inverse proportion to the degree of deficiency; the imbecile would seem to be more improvable than the idiot, and the feeble-minded than the imbecile. but this is simply hypothesis, and we accept it quite provisionally, until exact investigations have been made which will permit us to replace conjecture by demonstrated truth. consequently we shall open wide the doors of the school to the feeble-minded and close them to the idiots, while as to the imbeciles, we shall have to find out whether the proper place for them is the school or the hospice. it will be necessary to find out in what measure, and at the price of what effort, an imbecile can be instructed to the point, say of being able to read. there are two other indications which may help us. cases of _acquired_ mental deficiency--that is to say, cases who have become defective as the result of something which affected them after birth--are usually less improvable than _congenital_ cases, or cases where the deficiency is due to some cause acting before birth. and, secondly, cases affected by epilepsy, with fits or frequent attacks of vertigo, usually undergo a progressive mental deterioration. what distinctions can we draw between the different degrees of mental deficiency? such a question, we think, might be asked with regard to the ill-balanced as well as the defective. with respect to the former, we have no criterion at present to offer. it will be enough to pick out and send to the hospices _the most ill-balanced_, those whose presence among normal children would be a danger owing to the perversion of their instincts or the brutality of their impulses. with regard to mental deficiency, we think it possible to formulate precise definitions which will enable all competent persons to agree as to the diagnosis of idiocy, imbecility, and feeble-mindedness. we are aware that in making this statement we are running counter to the general practice of medical alienists. when these, in an admission certificate, call a child "idiot," "feeble-minded," or "imbecile," they are rarely in agreement with the confrère who, a few days later, examines the same child, and makes a new diagnosis. we have made a methodical comparison between the admission certificates filled up for the same children with a few days' interval by the doctors of sainte-anne, bicêtre, the salpêtrière, and vaucluse. we have compared several hundreds of these certificates, and we think we may say without exaggeration that they looked as if they had been drawn by chance out of a sack. this is a fact which many alienists have already suspected, and dr. blin[ ] has expressed himself frankly on the subject. what is the cause of such contradictions? they result, in great measure from the use of ill-defined terms. to the majority of alienists, the idiot is one who is _profoundly_ affected in his mental faculties, the imbecile is _a little less_, and the feeble-minded _less still_. what mean those words: "profoundly," "a little less," "less still"? no one defines them. they are taken to be indefinable. it is no wonder they are understood so differently. all this trouble would disappear if the following definitions were adopted: definition of an idiot. _an idiot is any child who never learns to communicate with his kind by speech--that is to say, one who can neither express his thoughts verbally nor understand the verbally expressed thoughts of others, this inability being due solely to defective intelligence, and not to any disturbance of hearing, nor to any affection of the organs of phonation._ since a normal child of two years of age can understand the speech of others, and can make itself understood by others, so far as its simple wants are concerned, it is evident that the distinction between an idiot and a normal child is easily made. definition of an imbecile. _an imbecile is any child who fails to learn how to communicate with his kind by means of writing--that is to say, one who can neither express his thoughts in writing, nor read writing or print, or, more correctly, understand what he reads, this failure being due to defective intelligence, and not to any defect of vision or any paralysis of the arm which would explain his inability._ one will not count a child an imbecile until he has had much more than the normal time to learn to read and write. the normal time in schools is six months. a child who does not yet know his letters after being at school for two years is likely to be an imbecile. spontaneous writing or writing from dictation must not be confounded with mere transcription from a copy. the latter is a kind of drawing, and may be acquired by some who are incapable, from defective intelligence, of writing from dictation. nor must real reading be confused with reading which consists in transforming graphic signs into sounds without meaning to the reader. the distinction can easily be made by giving the child in writing some simple order which he is to carry out, such as "shut the door," "knock three times on the table." definition of a feeble-minded child. _a feeble-minded child is one who can communicate with his kind by speech or writing, but who shows a retardation of two or three years (according to the rules already indicated) in his school studies, this retardation not being due to insufficient or irregular attendance._ these distinctions are pedagogical. the inspector will make them easily. if he is ever in doubt, he has a doctor at hand who will advise him. obviously the idiot is a case for the asylum or hospice. obviously also the feeble-minded is a case for the school. there remains the imbecile, about whom we may hesitate. from the moment the imbecile proves himself unable to learn to read or write, his place is in the workshop. we must find out to what extent he can profit by special education. =true and false defectives.=--we shall formulate a rule which will surely meet with no objection. it is that _none but defectives should be admitted to schools for defectives_. the moment we begin to apply this rule in practice, however, we meet with difficulties. there are normal children who are very backward in their studies. they cannot profitably follow the proper class for their age. such children are numerous, and of great interest socially. as they are really intelligent they can certainly be helped to make up for lost time. various terms have been applied to them, but it will be simplest to call them "backward" or "ignorant." in belgium many such "ignorant" children were admitted to the first school for defectives. in fact, they formed the majority, and one can understand how easily the teachers collected them. these are the cases which give such grand results, and are sometimes exhibited as genuine defectives who have been improved by teaching. in france it has been agreed that the ignorant are not to be admitted to the classes for defectives. the principle is sound. but let us not confuse the questions by approaching them both at once. let us consider the defectives first, the ignorant or backward next. even when we are agreed as to the principle, we find difficulties in practice. in the first place, there are the doubtful cases, children of whom we cannot say, even after prolonged examination, whether they are defective or backward. demoor, in the return he published concerning the pupils of the first school for defectives at brussels, noted a considerable number of these doubtful cases.[ ] what should be done with such cases? the best thing to do is to admit them to the classes for defectives, writing on their schedule a large mark of interrogation in order to guard against future deception. again, it is not always easy to establish irregular or insufficient attendance when this is the cause of the backwardness. the child may have been at several schools, and at some the teaching may have been faulty. there are some schools which practically produce mediocrity. in the next place, it is necessary to discover the causes of defective attendance. sometimes these causes are completely extrinsic to the nature of the child--frequent removals, constant domestic disturbances, laxity of the parents, an infirm parent to be taken care of, etc. in such cases the interpretation presents no difficulty. but sometimes the case is more embarrassing. it may be a thin child, who has been out of sorts for a long time. without being, properly speaking, of defective intelligence, he is weakly, anæmic, and consequently incapable of sustained attention. would it not be advisable to admit such a case, at least as a temporary measure, into the class for defectives, until his system had recovered tone? should we not also open the door to cases retarded by adenoids? and if we enter upon this work of charity, shall we not also accept some of those physically abnormal children who, affected by little's disease or pott's disease, are so little at their ease among their more robust companions? and what, lastly, is to be done with children retarded in their studies by an unrecognised myopia? it is evident that the question ceases to seem simple and easy when regarded closely. we may rigorously exclude from the class of defectives the child who is simply ignorant, but there is a whole series of complex cases intermediate between the ignorant and the defective. the inspector, let us say in anticipation, will consult his colleague the doctor with advantage about all these border-line cases. no breach of principle is involved here. it is necessary to be guided by circumstances. _the essential point is to mark distinctly upon the child's schedule the special reasons for his admission, in order to prevent ultimate deception in the shape of presenting the child as an average defective who has been improved by tuition in the special class._ * * * * * we now come to the normal, the really normal cases. there can evidently be no doubt as to what is to be done with them. they are provided for. they have only to remain in the ordinary school. we hope they will be kept there. we hope it; we even demand it with all our power. but we are not certain that it will be possible to save them from the special schools. how many vital interests are leagued against the keeping of that rule! and interests, when they are not looked after, are like the millions of ship-worms which slowly and silently corrode the most solid barriers. in the first place, there is the interest of the parents. when it is a question of secondary education, of rich or middle-class parents, there is nothing to fear. the bourgeois do not love their defectives; they are ashamed of them. they send them to a distance, to some private institution. they never speak of them to anyone; they do not visit them; they abandon them. but the common people have more heart or less prejudice. they will not be afraid of the special school for defectives any more than they are of the hospice. when they have a really defective child in the hospice, they never cease to visit him. we can imagine the results which such a state of mind will bring about. if these fathers and mothers of the working class were to hear of the existence of a boarding-school where children receive board, lodging, and clothing, they would flock to obtain admission even for their normal children, although it were well known that the school admitted only the feeble-minded, defectives, and fools. if necessary, they would get municipal councillors to back up their demands. this abuse was practised recently in the case of a reformatory, which was rapidly filled with ordinary children, whose sole characteristic was this--that their parents had political backing. this fraud--for it is one--will not be perpetrated in the case of the special schools and classes where no greater material advantages are given to the pupils than is the case in the public schools, but it is to be feared that it will recur in the case of special boarding-schools for defectives. such schools, if they are not carefully looked after, will turn out plenty of normal young people! and this is not all. it is not only the parents who will try to deceive. think also of the heads of the schools for defectives. what is their interest? take note of it, for it is important. one should always try to foresee the results of human frailty. in every new school which is started one should watch that part of the organisation which gives most scope for charlatanism. the head-masters and the teachers of the defectives will certainly have a tendency to show off before visitors children who have never been mentally defective, or who have been so to a very slight degree. they will take good care to say nothing about the condition of the child on admission. or, if necessary, they will tell lies--pious lies, told in a good cause, and for the honour of the school! these children will be shown off as advertisements, which will be just as illegitimate as if the schools for deaf-mutes were to present to visitors the semi-deaf-mutes, or the deaf who had formerly been able to hear, and to claim the entire credit for the facility with which these pupils could read the lips or pronounce words. all such impositions will continue to be practised as long as those who visit such institutions are content to look about and docilely question the children presented to them by the teachers, instead of personally selecting the pupils to interrogate. there is another reason why the heads of schools for defectives will keep their doors wide open to normal cases. this is, that in some cases a dearth of pupils may arise. a school is opened; it begins its work; the staff signs on. there is not much to do; there is no gossip about the matter; everyone is happy. but the number of admissions slowly decreases. it begins to be feared that the inspector will in his report notice the decrease, and that the school will be closed as of no public utility. pupils, therefore, must be found, and if they must be found, found they will be. recollect those evening classes held in the elementary schools, where the teacher, fearing he will have to speak to empty benches, begs the head-master to send him some school children as an audience. think of those libraries, where the staff, uneasy at the desertion of the public, pays a gratuity to an industrious reader for show! we strongly insist that the inspectors should be alive to this danger. they will be seated by the side of the manager of the special school. let them take note that this manager has a direct vital interest to admit normal children. it is upon the inspectors that we rely to see that everything is done honestly and correctly. =schedules of particulars.=--full and detailed particulars regarding every child admitted to a class for defectives should be furnished by the head-master and teachers of the school from which he came. they will do this easily, for when a child is a little peculiar he attracts attention. abnormal children never escape unnoticed. it is of the greatest importance that the future teacher of the child in the special class should be correctly informed, and that what has already been observed should not be lost. let it be remembered that the education of defectives should be individual, _made to measure_, as has been said with picturesque exaggeration. now, if the child is to be individualised, he must be well known, well studied. the necessity of some definite method of collecting particulars has been experienced abroad. a scheme of questions has been prepared, to be answered by the teacher who sends the child. the plan is a good one. it avoids the worry of lapses of memory. we suggest the following questionnaire: particulars. supplied by the original school. _concerning_ .......... _admitted_ .......... _to the special class at .......... school._ general particulars. original school: full name of child: date of birth: standard to which he belongs: is the child considered mentally defective? is the child considered ill-balanced? family history. names of father and mother: address of parents: occupation of parents: particulars of family which it would be useful to know: school attendance. how long has the child attended school? what standards has he passed through, and how long was he in each? regularity of school attendance: how many days was he absent each year? what were the most frequent reasons for absence, if any? what other schools has he attended, and at what periods? instruction. what amount of intelligence has he (count from to )? what do you know of his memory? in which subjects does he do least badly? in which subjects is he weakest? how many years behindhand do you consider him in school instruction compared with average children of the same age? annex to the present sheet one of his exercise-books and samples of his drawing and manual work. character and discipline. conduct in class. does the child keep his place? is he sleepy, unruly, talkative? does he laugh without apparent cause? does he disturb the class? application. is he attentive in class? does he do his exercises? does he learn his lessons? to what extent does his family assist him with the school work? what is his attitude towards the teacher? how does he receive remarks? does he pay attention to them? how often? is he indifferent? is he restive? what are his relations with his companions? is he kind, docile, compliant? does he make himself liked? is he the object of marked attention? or is he indifferent? does he keep apart from others? is he bullying, brutal, irascible, untruthful, dishonest, wicked? has he any special vices? pedagogy. what moral influences are most successful for guiding him? what is the effect of punishment? of severity? what is the effect of rewards? of praise? do you require to take any special measures with regard to him in class or in the playground? what are the most successful methods for advancing his instruction? state of health. what do you know of his state of health? has he incontinence of urine? any motor affection? any defect of speech? fits? has he been examined by a doctor, and do you know the doctor's opinion? was any medicine prescribed? what? _date_ ........ _signature_ ................. _position_ .................. all the terms of this schedule are readily intelligible to the teachers. they have filled up a hundred samples in a very satisfactory manner, and we thus have in our possession a veritable mine of valuable information. it is to be hoped that the teachers in the special school may enjoy the same advantage. the plan has been found of value in other countries. the bulletins which are used in rotterdam, for example, scarcely differ from ours except that they are more laconic. we have included in our questionnaire all that is likely to interest not only the inspector, but the doctor and the psychologist. * * * * * and now to sum up, here are the steps we advise to be taken in collecting the defectives: _first._--the inspector has the pupils of each age in the schools arranged according to the "standard" or "course" they are in. _second._--by examining the tabulated results, the inspector picks out the backward, and demands particulars regarding the school attendance of those who have a retardation of two years (when they are under nine years of age), and of three years (when they have passed their ninth birthday). in the same circular the inspector asks the teachers to name any of their pupils who appear to be mentally ill-balanced--that is to say, who, according to the testimony of at least two teachers, are rebellious to discipline and an annoyance in the class. the particulars with regard to want of discipline should be stated in each case. _third._--after examining the returns relating to school attendance and to the faults alleged against the children supposed to be wanting in balance, the inspector will make his first choice. _fourth._--the direct examination of the child bears specially upon his state of instruction and degree of intelligence. the inspector comes to a positive decision with regard to each child, and asks the opinion of the doctor, as well as of the head of the special school, who assists. _fifth._--the inspector has a schedule of particulars regarding the children finally accepted for the special school filled up by their teachers in the schools from which they came. the medical examination will be considered in the next chapter. let us add, in conclusion, that all the decisions arrived at are to be regarded as provisional; the children are to be admitted to the class for defectives on trial, to be kept under observation. footnotes: [ ] see _année psychologique_, vol. xii., p. , and vol. x., p. . the method sometimes adopted, for other purposes, of asking the teacher to classify the children according to their intelligence is quite fallacious. teachers make no allowance for age. recently an excellent teacher pointed out to us, as the most intelligent in the class, a child who had really, when his age was taken into account, a retardation of two years; but in a class of younger children his age gave him an appearance of mental superiority. [such facts vitiate much statistical work on the correlation of "brightness" in school-children with other qualities.--tr.] [ ] teachers have a troublesome habit of saying simply "attendance regular" or "irregular." the inspector should demand an exact return of the absences. [ ] there are two methods of stating the representative value of a group, the _average_ and the _median_. everyone knows the average. the median is obtained by arranging the values in linear series from the smallest to the greatest and taking the middle one. when should one use the average, and when the median? it is not easy to give a general rule, but in this case of spelling, we have a good example. if we wish to calculate the number of mistakes for each age, to take the average might be a disastrous proceeding. a single child who made a hundred or so mistakes would obviously make the average unfairly high. the median is affected much less by such aberrant cases, and consequently is more suitable for very heterogeneous series, in which the difference between the maximum and the minimum is very great. [ ] by way of comparison, the following dictation was given to ninety-two children in an edinburgh school. the progressive difficulties depend upon the non-phonetic spelling and the lesser familiarity of words. most of the children came to school in their sixth year. . tom is a good boy. he has a book and a bat. he can run fast. . the dog is bigger than the cat, but he cannot climb so well. he would if he could. . the farmer walked through the wood till he came to the field. it was a fine day for sowing the corn. he hoped it would not rain till he had finished his work. . the weather was very stormy. the boughs of the trees were blowing to and fro in the wind. clouds were chasing each other across the sky. the crows were watching the ploughman in the field. mistakes were marked according to the directions in the text. thus "bows" for "boughs" counted three mistakes. the results were as follows: -----------------+------------------------------------ |average mistakes in test sentences. age of children.+--------+--------+--------+--------- | . | . | . | . -----------------+--------+--------+--------+--------- to years | . | . | -- | -- " " | . | . | . | . " " | . | . | . | . -----------------+--------+--------+--------+--------- [ ] the complete set of tests as revised in is given in the appendix, with notes regarding their subsequent use in britain and america. [ ] "les débilités mentales," _rev. de psychiatrie_, . [ ] _année psychologique_, vol. vii., , p. . chapter iv the medical examination of defectives hitherto we have been studying the defective from the point of view of his school relations. this point of view is incomplete, and should not make us forget that there is another--the medical. it is quite certain that in the organisation and the practical working of the special schools the doctor has a rôle, and an important rôle, to fill. all foreign countries recognise this, and give him a large place. it is even regretted in some countries that doctors detach themselves too much from such questions, and are content to make a rapid and superficial examination of children on their entrance to school, instead of collaborating actively in the important work of the teacher. after this declaration of principles, it may not be without interest to fix precisely the rôle which belongs to the doctor and the services which he can render. it seems to us, in fact, that there is often some confusion as to his attributes, and two opposite tendencies may be recognised. according to one, the more widespread, the defective are often, if not always, invalids, and belong to him by right. it would be an encroachment upon his privileges to concern oneself with them. the opposite opinion consists in not committing to him any particular authority in the matter. this is the case in germany, where there are schoolmasters who carry things with a high hand in the special schools. let us add that the doctors themselves have done nothing to bring about an entente. speak of defectives before them, and they say, "that is our business," and they are perfectly right; but having affirmed their right, they pay very little attention to the territory they defend. it seems to us that the field is sufficiently great for everyone to glean, and the efforts of all will not be too great to clear it. there are some questions which escape the doctor, unless he is also an educationist and a psychologist. but there are also some, in our opinion, for which he has special competence, and where no one can take his place. to define his rôle is not to lessen it; on the contrary, it is to assure him an authoritative position. it is not his business to select the abnormal from the normal. but from the children picked out as abnormal he will differentiate certain types and prescribe certain measures with regard to their care and treatment. the doctor not to pick out the detectives from amongst the children in school. there is a general misunderstanding with regard to the special knowledge and aptitude of the doctor. one tends to credit him with a kind of omnipotence and infallibility against which he protests in vain. he is made to judge questions which do not belong to his special province--namely, the medical, and upon which he expresses opinions which are neither more nor less valuable than those of any other intelligent person. recently, at various congresses, we have seen doctors with the best intentions laying down educational programmes, comparing the educative value of science with that of letters, and expressing a variety of opinions, no doubt very sensible, but with which the medical art had nothing whatever to do. as regards the selection of defectives, one is influenced by the same prejudice. we have discussed this with many people, and especially with educationists, and when we have insisted on the difficulties of examination, they usually reply, "that is the doctor's business!" the prejudice we have noted is very tenacious, and will doubtless be difficult to overcome, for there are many people who have interests to maintain of a pecuniary nature. let us consider this question from two points of view--the estimation of educational retardation, and the physical examination of defectives. =estimation of the degree of mental inferiority.=--we have seen how easily, in spite of the commonly accepted opinion, experienced teachers and inspectors accomplish this part of their task. if a doctor were charged with it his embarrassment would be great. just imagine a doctor introduced into a school of children in order to pick out the defectives by strictly medical methods. no doubt every doctor, especially if he is an alienist, is called upon to estimate the intellectual level of children, and to sign certificates of idiocy, imbecility, and feeble-mindedness. but just consider how things are managed at the consultation. the parents bring the child. they know very well that he is "not like others." they bring him for that very reason, and consequently the doctor does not require to distinguish the child from a normal one. he only requires to sit and listen to the parents, who give him a crowd of particulars. when he questions and examines the child, it is only to verify what he has learned, and to add his own personal impression. as a general rule the case is a severe one; the deficiency is so evident that any sensible person would notice it. the task of the doctor is therefore narrowed. he has only to certify the mental deficiency of the patient, stating in technical terms the diagnosis which the parents have brought to him ready made. even his estimation of the gravity of the case, apart from special investigations on his part, is not very different from that of ordinary people who readily distinguish between the idiot who cannot speak; the imbecile, who can make himself understood, though he cannot be educated; and the feeble-minded, who can do some work, but is not able to provide for his wants, or to behave himself sensibly. when the doctor thus certifies the intellectual level of the patient, does he try to do so with precision? by no means, for it is not expected of him. the parents do not come to him in order to ask him, "is my child backward in his mental development?" alas they see it only too well, and little it matters to them whether his backwardness amounts to six months or a year. but they do come to ask, "why does this child not make the usual progress? is there not some medicine, doctor, which can help his development?" when they come to the doctor, it is not even with the hope that some medico-pedagogical treatment will cure their child. they know very well that the devoted care which they have always bestowed upon him from his infancy is superior to anything which can be given to him at a dispensary for children; but their indomitable hope leads them to seek chimerical measures. in all this, let us repeat, the doctor does not require to estimate the degree of mental deficiency with any delicacy. but if he should try to do so, what methods would he use? here is a child of nine years of age, who has been selected for a class for defectives because he cannot follow the usual lessons in the elementary school. you, however, doctor, put to him some of your usual questions. you ask the child his name, his age, the occupation and address of his parents; the date, day, month, year; some details about his life; you even ask him to read or count. the replies are given to you quietly and correctly. are you going to refuse to admit him to the special school, and by what right? you have the notes of one, of two, or of three teachers. he cannot follow; he is still with children of seven years of age, in spite of having been at school for three years. it is evident that he is not an idiot, nor an imbecile, nor even feeble-minded to any great extent. but you have been notified that he is behind other children of his age. there is therefore something peculiar about him. it is not a medical question whether he ought to remain in the ordinary school. the doctor cannot go against the opinions which have been given to him, in order to verify whether the retardation is genuine. to do so, it would be necessary for him to make a comparison with the normal condition. now this varies according to age. the doctor does not know exactly, to two or three years, the normal condition of the mental faculties; nor, after such and such a period of school attendance, the habitual level of instruction reached. that, however, in such special conditions, is the very problem which faces him. we do not hesitate to express the opinion that, in such circumstances, the doctor would be incapable of estimating the intellectual level of the child. he has no more experience in this matter than any other person. let a doctor seek to pick out a feeble-minded child from a number of normal ones, and he will find how little he is prepared to make the selection. =physical examination of defectives.=--but it may be asked: "is not mental debility associated with physical signs which the doctor alone is able to appreciate?" about this question three kinds of facts may be considered: those pertaining to anthropometry, the stigmata of degeneration, and physiognomy. let us consider in order what help may be derived from these. _height and head measurements._--numerous papers have been published upon height and cephalometry. the object of some has been to compare the less intelligent school children with those who are better endowed. other authors have taken as their subject the study of asylum or hospital cases. the absence or paucity of results of the earlier studies seems to be due to a cause which we have referred to elsewhere (p. ). the mistake has been made of judging the intelligence of the children by sole reference to the opinion of the teachers, although account should have been taken of the relationship between the age and the stage of instruction. the comparison between the height and head measurements of the hospital cases and those of school children is not subject to the same risk of error, and striking differences between the two have been noticed. but there is yet another factor which must be taken into account if the figures so obtained are to yield all they are capable of teaching. if one confines oneself to comparing the averages of the two sets of children, one finds them almost identical. we have shown that the only suitable method to use here is the method of arranging the figures in series. this proceeding has suggested to one of us a better method still, that of "frontiers." there is for each age a height limit below which the defectives become clearly more numerous. there are limits in the head diameters, upon each side of which are grouped the abnormally small and the hypertrophied heads, which are frequently associated with mental deficiency. we give here the table which one of us has published of the provisional frontiers for height and for the two cephalic diameters. the frontiers of abnormality (boys). ------+--------------+-----------------+--------------+-------------- age. | height. | antero-posterior| transverse | sum of | | diameter. | diameter. | diameters. ------+--------------+-----------------+--------------+-------------- | centimetres. | millimetres. | millimetres. | millimetres. | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | . | | . | | | | | | . | | | | | | | ------+--------------+-----------------+--------------+-------------- what this table means is this: if we measure children in an elementary school, we find only a small number (at most per cent.) whose measurements are less than those indicated; if, on the other hand, we measure idiots and imbeciles, the proportion of those whose measurements are inferior is greater, amounting to over per cent. amongst abnormal children we found not a single one who was below these frontiers in two measurements, whilst per cent. of defectives were below. certain measurements, therefore, are distinctly suggestive, although, no doubt, not absolutely diagnostic without reference to the subject examined. _the stigmata of degeneration._--everyone has heard of the physical malformations which are called the stigmata of degeneration. some of these are very apparent, such as a sixth finger on the hand, or a hare-lip, or those deformities of the head, which are called _plagiocephalus_ (obliquely oval cranium), _scaphocephalus_ (boat-shaped cranium), etc. other stigmata are less apparent, such as abnormal shapes of the ear, irregular growth of hair, of the teeth, alterations in the eye, etc. some doctors, not all, have made a study of these various stigmata. but school directors and teachers know nothing about them except what the present-day widespread popularisation of medical knowledge has permitted them to know. evidently it is no part of their business to take up the study, although no state diploma will prevent their doing so if it is their good pleasure. there is no law against it. but they would expose themselves to grave risks of erroneous interpretations owing to their ignorance of the manner in which stigmata are produced, and the ignorance of doctors on this subject is still great. the determination of the stigmata, their enumeration, and their description, belong, therefore, at any rate by preference, to the doctor. god save us from wanting to dispossess him! but what help could their study render us in the question whether a particular child ought or ought not to be admitted into a class for defectives? there is an opinion which is very widespread, especially amongst teachers and ordinary people, a souvenir of the doctrines of gall, that the physical stigmata are signs of the original character, and that the possessor of a certain shape of head is certainly defective. "i have taken my son," a worthy mother said to us, "to consult dr. p., because he was learning nothing in his class. he was sent away from every school i sent him to, and he is unbearable at home. the doctor felt all over his head. he evidently saw that there was something particular wrong with the boy." we do not smile at this good mother. plenty of other intelligent people hold her opinions, if they are not so naïve in their language. they expect that the moment defective children are brought before them, they will find something peculiar, something ugly, in their physiognomy. and there are plenty of doctors, let us say frankly, who are equally naïve, and, more serious still, allow themselves to be influenced by unconscious suggestions. if, like our worthy mother, we present to the doctor a child as defective, the doctor will, as a general rule, have no difficulty in demonstrating that he must be so. how many of us are there without stigmata? none of us is built upon the model of the ideal man. it is always possible to discover some anatomical detail which will give support to a preconceived opinion. but the same doctor who, on seeing a defective child with adherent ear lobes, will say that that was just what he expected, will abruptly change his opinion if he discovers a whorl of frontal hair on a child who is presented to him as normal, and will refuse to attach to the fact any importance whatever. as a matter of fact, these questions have not yet been studied as they ought to be, by a comparison without _parti pris_ between normal and abnormal children of the same age and in the same environment, and we do not yet know how stigmata should be interpreted. we can only suggest some provisional conclusions. the first of these conclusions is that the presence or absence of a definite stigma has no exact significance for the individual who bears it; for on the one hand one meets with all kinds of malformations in average normal children, and on the other hand, some who are definitely abnormal are quite normal in their conformation. the stigma, therefore, has not the value of a definitely pathognomonic sign like the crepitating râle of pneumonia, or the transient unconsciousness of epilepsy; but if we compare a group of normal children with a group of abnormal, the total number of the stigmata will be much greater in the second group; and, moreover, the multiplicity of stigmata in a single individual constitutes a strong probability that that individual is abnormal. here are some facts which support these two propositions: recently we made a rapid examination of the heads of fifty-eight school children, and noticed that eighteen of them had some stigma, especially an abnormal shape of the ear. we therefore find stigmata amongst children at the average school level. but of these fifty-eight school children only one had four abnormalities--malformed ears, strabismus, prognathism, and slight scaphocephaly. the others had a maximum of two. the first child alone is certainly defective. in a class of nine defective children subjected to a similar examination, we found only one who had but one stigma, another had two, four had three, and three had five. of the three last, one had a very high degree of retardation; another was mentally ill-balanced to no less a degree. let us compare these two groups, the one of fifty-eight average children, the other of nine defectives, and group to group, the difference is very clear. the stigmata are usually more numerous when the children are mentally defective. the existence of stigmata is a presumption of deficiency, and this presumption is greater, the greater the number of stigmata. if we consider which are the stigmata that are most commonly met with, we find that asymmetry of the face is almost constant, but we also find it sometimes in normal children. malformations of the ear come next. we are often struck by the frequency of badly defective speech--three times in nine defectives, whilst we did not find a single example in the fifty-eight school children taken by chance. here, then, is a "group fact" which is of interest from a scientific point of view. but what use can be made of it for individual diagnosis? this is much more delicate, for even if one could state it as a general rule that defectives have more stigmata than the normal, this rule is subject to important exceptions. one of our abnormal cases had only one stigma, another had two, and in both cases the anomalies were of a very ordinary kind--slight want of symmetry of the face and sticking out ears. children with stigmata few in number, and little marked (though as a rule we note the presence of stigmata without measuring them), may therefore not be of normal intelligence. the same is true sometimes of children with no stigma at all. we may therefore conclude that stigmata may be taken into account when we are making an examination, but they should never be regarded as of fundamental importance in diagnosis. _physiognomy._--in addition to stigmata, we have to note another feature which is of more definite significance. methodical studies made by means of a collection of sixty photographs of children, normal and abnormal, photographs taken by m. bertillon in conditions comparable in all cases, have shown us that an intelligent teacher can scarcely go wrong in judging physiognomy. the photographs were beautifully taken, and the expression of the faces appeared extremely lifelike to anyone who was used to observing children. we asked various teachers to examine these portraits, and to express their opinion as to the mental capacity revealed. mistakes were made, as was to be expected; but the correct estimations were always in the majority, and some teachers exhibited a truly remarkable talent for observation; they were practically never deceived. let us say in passing that our list included a number of doctors amongst the teachers. they were far from distinguishing themselves. their percentage was not so good as that of the schoolmasters. this difference in competence, which perhaps may appear surprising, suggests the following anecdote: one day, at the meeting of a commission, we had thrown upon the cloth a collection of photographs of children, the very one which we had been using for our methodical experiments. everyone looked at the portraits and expressed his opinion. by way of a joke we tackled a medical alienist who had a seat on the commission. he was mistaken in his opinion as often as his colleagues who were most ignorant of medicine. it seems to us, and the facts mentioned support us, that stigmata are only one part of the complicated whole which constitutes a physiognomy. a physiognomy includes many other things, especially the expression,--lively or sluggish, strong or weak, intelligent or lacking in intelligence; there is the fineness or coarseness of the features, the beauty or ugliness of the countenance, the ordinary or unusual appearance of the face. all this forms an _ensemble_ which the eye does not analyse, but judges _en bloc_ by instinct, without considering the elements separately, and, above all, without being able to give reasons for its judgment. will it be possible some day to analyse, to dissociate, and to describe all these very various elements? we do not know. in the meantime we think that every examiner, as a matter of fact, allows himself to be influenced by the general appearance of the subject, and that the impression so formed is not entirely without value. let us sum up regarding the physiognomy. there does exist between the intellectual level of a subject and his physical development a real correlation, but, unfortunately, it is slight. with regard to the stigmata our knowledge of their significance is still very slight. we have no figures which allow us to place any definite value upon them either singly or in combination. there still remains the general appearance, whose significance is apparently indubitable, but which, at present, is too dependent upon individual estimate to be utilisable. let us add that these relations between the mental and the physical appear to be of greater significance the lower the mental condition. now, in a school it is the feeble-minded who are in the majority, and it is they who have to be recognised much more frequently than the idiot or the imbecile, and this lessens the importance of the physical examination. we may therefore conclude with this practical rule: a physical examination can never allow us to dispense with a direct examination of the intelligence. anthropometry, stigmata, and physical appearance must take a second place as means for discovering in school the feeble-minded and the ill-balanced. failing direct recourse to the teacher, these methods could, and ought, to be made use of. but in most cases, thanks to the assistance of the teacher, we have better means. in cases on the border-line they might help to incline the balance. their principal use is not to assist in selecting children for special classes for defectives; their significance is quite different, as we shall see immediately. medical examination of the children presented. we must now define the active rôle of the doctor. in many foreign countries a scheme has been drawn up for the medical examination, which is often extremely comprehensive, almost interminable. we give an example of this kind, though questioning the appropriateness, from our point of view, of certain questions. if one does not simplify the work, the practitioners will simplify it in their own way--by neglecting it. if you ask them to do too much, they will do nothing. scheme for medical examination _heredity of the child._--note the name, the date, and the place of the birth of the father and the mother, and find out, by direct interrogation, whether the parents have a pathological heredity. consider first the two great hereditary influences--alcoholism and insanity. next inquire concerning nervous ailments, tuberculosis, etc. make inquiries concerning the direct ascendents and their collaterals. note the number of brothers and sisters, their illnesses, their mortality, and the position of the child in the family. _previous history of the child._--this is the second part of the medical examination. it includes many questions. has the child had convulsions? at what age did it begin to cut its teeth? at what age did it begin to walk? when did it show habits of cleanliness? when did it speak? what illnesses had it in infancy? has the child always appeared different from others, or did it only become so at some definite time, or, in other words, is the mental deficiency congenital or acquired? _present condition._--under this heading are included the general appearance of the subject, his attitude, the form and size of his head, etc. we have no objection on principle to medical investigations of this kind, and if a doctor desires to collect such information, he ought to be encouraged. we recall in passing that dr. ley, of antwerp, who was for some time medical specialist to a school for defectives, has made a very complete study of the heredity and personal antecedents of hundreds of defective children. but before compelling doctors to fill up conscientiously a schedule containing all these questions, one should consider without prejudice what use the work is going to be when it is done. let us distinguish between pure science and what is of immediate practical utility. no doubt one ought to give a warm welcome to everything which helps us to understand the child better; but the above observations upon his heredity do not bear upon the question of whether he is a defective, and throw only the dimmest light upon his character and the manner in which one should treat him. if he is to be counted abnormal, he must be either ill-balanced or of deficient intelligence. even if he should have an alcoholic heredity, that would be of no importance if he were able to follow his class and to profit by the ordinary instruction. at most, the discovery of a pathological heredity might incline one in a doubtful case towards a diagnosis of mental deficiency; but yet one should be extremely cautious about permitting oneself to be influenced in this way, for we are ignorant to a most incredible degree concerning the heredity and antecedents of normal children, and as our ignorance in this respect is so complete, we are unable to say precisely what is really pathological in the heredity and the antecedents of those who are abnormal. information of this kind, therefore, is not directly useful. what, then, are the first problems to be solved? let us consider just exactly where we are in the examination. here are the children picked out by the teachers. the inspectors themselves have checked the selection and referred back some of those selected, but very few, if they have carefully directed the methods of choice from the beginning. the children presented are backward in their studies. inquiries regarding their school attendance have shown that the retardation is not due to irregular attendance. the examination of their intelligence has confirmed this judgment. it still remains to discover whether, amongst all these children who are unable to follow the ordinary school curriculum, there do not exist some who are not, properly speaking, mentally deficient, but who are suffering from some illness. may we not find amongst them some who require medical treatment rather than special teaching--_e.g._, cretins? and, lastly, may there not be some children whose mental deficiency complicates some other disease, such as epilepsy? these are problems which are essentially medical, and which it is necessary to solve before admitting a child to a special school. let us consider them in order. = . is the case one of mental deficiency, or of an intercurrent mental affection?=--to tell the truth, there is not often any doubt. however, there are two circumstances in which doubt may arise. in the first place, an arrest in a child's mental development may be the expression of a state of depression which indicates a psychosis in the course of evolution, or it may be the first sign of decadence in one of those degenerates of whom morel speaks, who seem to have "a limited mental existence." such cases, which some authors describe under the name of "dementia precox," require a medical regimen. in the second place, it is possible that the etiological factor is alcohol. alcoholism in the parents is frequently the cause of mental deficiency. but the effects of drinking do not always stop there. the child itself may be made to drink, and consequently the doctor may sometimes find symptoms resulting from direct intoxication--nightmares, or tremor of the hands. such intoxication may be responsible partly, if not entirely, for the want of progress at school, and also for the irritable temper which the child shows in class. it would be necessary in such cases to see the parents, and to advise a different hygiene for their child at any rate, if they themselves cannot be persuaded to give up their bad habits. in this way one may be able to avoid sending the child to a school for defectives. it is apparent that even if the child were sent to such a school, it would be necessary to put a stop to the administration of alcohol. the rarity of such cases makes their exposition of almost theoretical interest. = . would the mental deficiency respond to medical treatment?=--cannot the doctor prescribe something to cure the mental deficiency or want of balance? let us give some consideration to this question. medicines act either upon the symptoms of a disease, or upon the organic changes which produce them, or, lastly, upon the very causes of such organic changes. quinine, for example, has a selective action on the parasites of malaria; mercury produces an undoubted effect upon syphilitic growths; treatment by cold baths keeps the temperature of typhoid fever below a certain level during the whole of the illness. cannot analogous results be hoped for in mental deficiency? a brief résumé of what we know concerning the causes of mental deficiency and the anatomical lesions which accompany it will determine our answer. the dominant etiological feature is that mental deficiency and want of balance depend upon hereditary conditions, or conditions acquired in the earliest stages of development. by hereditary conditions must be understood strictly those which result from alterations in the germ cells of the parents. an intoxication alone seems capable of exercising upon the latter a sufficiently general action to reach the germ cells, and by far the most frequent poison is alcohol. by acquired conditions must be understood the results of diseases of the foetus or of infancy, and especially the cerebral complications of the infectious fevers--_e.g._, meningitis in the course of an eruptive fever. in all such cases, with rare exceptions to be mentioned immediately, by the time the mental deficiency is discovered, its causes are no longer active, and consequently cannot be affected by medical intervention. the statements we have just made with regard to the causes of mental deficiency lead to some practical conclusions. the ultimate evolution of the congenital cases differs from that of acquired cases, and this renders a study of the early history of the child important. if the development of the child has been normal at first, and has then been abruptly interrupted, for example, by an attack of meningitis, of which we can obtain by inquiry a definite history, the prognosis is not good. for it is a well-recognised fact that cases of acquired mental deficiency are not likely to make a fresh start. if we were hesitating whether to send an imbecile child to an asylum or to put him in a class for mental defectives, a history like the above would lead us to give the preference to the asylum; but let us say once more, we do not find here an indication for treatment. as to the changes which are found post-mortem, these are manifold and of an unalterable kind. they are as follows: ( ) the results of the rupture of a cerebral vessel--_e.g._, from asphyxia at birth or a delivery by forceps. blood has been poured out into the nervous tissue. the latter has been destroyed over a greater or less extent, and there is found in its place a cyst filled with sero-sanguineous fluid. ( ) the obstruction of an artery--_e.g._, by septic thrombosis--has prevented the blood from reaching a part of the brain, with similar results to those mentioned. ( ) in other cases are found the more or less extensive changes produced by meningitis or meningo-encephalitis. the inflammation of its envelopes has interfered with the brain, and consequently with its functions. ( ) an increased secretion of cerebro-spinal fluid has led to a compression of the nervous system or a distension of its cavities, notably of the lateral ventricles of the cerebral hemispheres, and has led to a separation of the bones of the cranium, thus producing the large globular head of hydrocephalus. ( ) there may be found simply defects of development whose causes are known (microcephalus, or extreme smallness of the cranium relatively to the face; microgyria, or marked thinness of the convolutions). ( ) lastly--and this is frequently the case in the worst degrees of deficiency--the post-mortem, and even microscopic examination of the organs may show no change at all. let us add that the nature of the lesions just mentioned does not seem to have any relationship to the condition of the mental faculties. an anatomico-pathological grouping of the cases and a grouping according to the mental condition, far from being parallel, are frequently decidedly different. on the other hand, the extent of the lesions is of more importance. diffuse lesions affect the mind more than those which are circumscribed--that is to say, limited to a certain part of the brain--as if the mental functions required the co-operation of the entire cerebral cortex. one will often find, for example, sound judgment in the subject of a marked paralysis, whilst it is very rare to find that good intelligence co-exists with any degree of microcephalus. let us emphasise the last fact we mentioned, the absence of any lesion. some authorities have maintained that all conditions of mental deficiency and want of balance found in children are connected with definite diseases of which they are the symptoms. the question is unsettled. for our own part we adopt the following provisional statement: mental deficiency and want of balance are peculiar mental conditions which it is often impossible to connect with definite pathological changes. thus, we do not know of any medical treatment which is likely to act upon the preceding lesions when they are present, and we do not think it is even possible to act upon them. an exception must, however, be made of conditions due to insufficient secretion of certain glands. the type of these is cretinism. marked cases of this condition are easy to recognise. the very appearance of the children is sufficient for an experienced eye--the stunted growth; the rough, wrinkled skin; the swollen eyelids half-concealing the eyes; the prominent belly; and the mental apathy. one also comes across abortive cases, where the above-mentioned characters are less marked; the sluggishness also is less. these latter cases are amenable to the same treatment as the former--namely, the ingestion of thyroid glands from the sheep. this treatment stimulates growth and makes the child more lively; but what ultimately becomes of the cases so treated? the amelioration usually ceases whenever the treatment is dropped. but how far does this amelioration go? to what extent does the child profit by it? lasègue has jocularly remarked that the average duration of an attack of typhoid fever (six weeks) represents the maximum time during which medical attention could be brought to bear upon a patient. one feels disposed to think he is right in face of the slight satisfaction one can obtain from the literature regarding a point of such importance. other cases of mental deficiency may be due to an alteration in the pituitary gland. it is for the doctor to find out whether there are any symptoms by which mental deficiency of such an origin can be recognised, and whether it is possible to prepare a suitable substance for replacing the absent secretion. the number of cases amenable to treatment of this kind is, unfortunately, very limited.[ ] we may even say that, as a general rule, we did not find amongst the school children we examined any cases of obesity or infantilism such as are sometimes described of a truly remarkable nature. even children who were abnormally short looked their age. we have still, however, to mention one last influence--namely, poverty. its part in the production of mental debility is scarcely defined. what are the exact effects upon intelligence of prolonged deficiency of nutrition? how can its action be isolated from that of other agents, such as alcoholism, which too frequently accompanies it? the complexity of such social studies sufficiently explains their present incompleteness. let us recall the results we obtained from an inquiry of this kind; the children of parents in extreme poverty are retarded in their physical development more frequently than those whose parents are in easy circumstances. it is interesting to add that analogous inquiries with reference to intelligence have furnished similar results. apart from the preceding cases, the best that can be done is to treat the symptoms. the two principal agents at the disposal of the doctor are the bromides and hydrotherapy. unfortunately, if the bromides are undoubtedly efficacious in certain cases of epilepsy, that is far from being the case in simple want of mental balance, in which cases they are at best useful adjuvants. as to hydrotherapy, and especially cold douches, their principal indication is in certain nervous affections, where their effect is to enable the subject to master the emotional reactions which are habitually exaggerated. lastly, the doctor can exert his moral influence to assist the educative work of the teacher in the special school. his less frequent intervention, the different motives of his advice, will often give him even more authority than the teacher. the suggestive effects of his intervention should be obtained, in our opinion, without resort to hypnotism. = . does the mentally defective suffer from any definite illness?=--if the illness such as we have referred to affects those parts of the cerebral cortex which govern the muscles of a limb, one will find, in addition to the mental condition, paralysis with atrophy and contracture. but in addition to such very marked cases, there exist others in which sensory or motor affections, although slight, may hinder the progress of education. it goes without saying that if a child does not profit from the school work, an examination of his sight and hearing should be made as a matter of course. perhaps that may have been done already by the teacher himself by such methods as he is able to use. but this first examination is not sufficient. the doctor must correct, as far as possible, the want of acuity noticed. no doubt the defect may not explain the mental deficiency of the child, but one must take care that in the school for defectives a pronounced myopia or catarrh of the middle ear does not prove an obstacle to the efforts which are to be made to bring about development. in the same way it must be considered whether the condition of the muscular system is such as to permit the manual work which one wants to teach the child, and whether there exists any paralysis or tremor which would prove an obstacle to work of this kind. one must consider whether any symptoms present are transitory, like chorea; or permanent, like infantile hemiplegia; and what kind of efforts may be made without risk to the health of the child. such are the problems which the doctor has to solve. * * * * * in the last place, it is necessary to take into account the coexistence with the mental deficiency of other affections. _epilepsy._--epilepsy frequently coexists with mental deficiency. now, epilepsy does not always reveal itself by severe fits with crying, falling down, loss of consciousness, convulsions, stiffness followed by jerking of the limbs, foaming at the mouth, biting of the tongue, and involuntary passage of urine. it is revealed also by symptoms of a less striking nature, which have been described under the name of _petit mal_. such are loss of consciousness, vertigo, or simply mental perturbations. loss of consciousness occurs without the tremor of a muscle, the child suddenly turns pale, loses consciousness for a moment, and then continues whatever he was doing--for example, walking or writing. there is nothing more impressive to notice when the fit occurs as one is talking to the little patient. one sees, as it were, the passing of a veil. but nothing could be more fugitive, nothing could more easily escape the notice of anyone who was not a good observer. often the parents know nothing about it. the attacks are so short, the consequences apparently so slight, that even if the parents have chanced to notice them, they do not always think of mentioning the fact. the teacher of defective children ought to be instructed in the characteristics of this affection. he is going to spend several hours daily with the children. he will have the best opportunities for noticing the occurrence of attacks, which may be rare, but which, when they occur, are very significant. although the symptoms are a little more marked, vertigo also is of brief duration. to the pallor and the loss of consciousness of the preceding condition there is added a little muscular relaxation. the child totters, supports himself by anything in his neighbourhood, slips down in his seat, or drops his pen. sometimes there is a slight spasm of the muscles of the face, the mouth is drawn to one side by slight jerks, or performs some movements of mastication or deglutition. and that is all--no convulsions of the limbs, no passage of urine, scarcely an interruption to the work which is being done. whether the doctor discovers these symptoms by interrogation of the parents, or whether the teacher some time afterwards describes them to him with sufficient detail to permit of a certain diagnosis, a double gain results. in the first place, there is an indication for treatment; and in the second, the possibility of supervision. as a matter of fact, it too frequently happens that these symptoms, little dramatic as they are, reveal the existence of epilepsy, which will ultimately result in progressive mental decadence. and yet this is not all. a few days or a few hours before such symptoms occur, or immediately after them, or, lastly, according to some authorities, entirely independently of them, the patient may develop a peculiar condition of irritability, in which he will transgress against discipline, make insolent remarks, or even give way to violence. such actions ought not to be suppressed by punishment, because they are of morbid origin. all such symptoms possess this characteristic, that they leave no trace on the memory of the child. he himself knows nothing about them, or knows them only by what he has heard from other people. there can now be no need to insist with what care inquiries must be made, especially of the parents. are epileptics to be admitted into the special class? on principle they are refused admission to the ordinary school. they are, however, to be found there. there are those whose attacks occur very rarely, or are so slight as to cause no disturbance. there are probably also unrecognised cases of epilepsy in which the symptoms occur during the night, or on awakening, but never in class. only the severe forms are turned away. probably the same state of affairs will recur in the classes for the abnormal--at any rate until the time when provision for epileptics is more extensive than it is at present. it will therefore be necessary to recognise these cases, to supervise them with special care during certain kinds of manual work, and, if possible, to treat the nervous symptoms suitably while the patients are receiving instruction. _hysteria._--although hysteria has not the same gravity, it is no less advisable that cases should be tracked out. this neurosis is being discussed to-day as never before. without setting forth at length what we think should be included under this term, let us point out a characteristic of hysteria which is commonly recognised, and which is of such importance that it indicates the line of treatment to be followed. the two principal manifestations of the affection, hysterical fits and the recital of lying tales, require for their complete development the presence of a public, of a gallery. inversely, their disappearance is assured by isolation or apparent inattention. the discovery of such tendencies before entrance to the school will allow the doctor to forewarn the teacher, and point out to him the best way of dealing with such children. * * * * * there are still three affections about which we must say a few words--rickets, adenoid vegetations, and scrofula. _rickets._--the chief characteristic of this condition is defective ossification. instead of possessing their usual rigidity, the bones become curved, and multiple deformities result. the legs become bowed, and the knees cannot be brought into contact when the feet are placed together; the thorax becomes constricted or gibbous, etc. in addition to the nutritive disturbance, which appears to be at the root of all these disorders, there may be, according to some authors, an affection of the entire system, and especially of the nervous centres. unfortunately, as rickets is a disease of the earliest years of life, one often finds oneself in the presence of the sequelæ which have been left, and which simply must be made the best of. _adenoid vegetations._--everyone has now heard of cases of this kind where the appearance is so characteristic. the lips are always half open, the appearance is sleepy-looking, the respiration is difficult. if one looks at the throat, or if one introduces the finger into the child's mouth in order to explore the pharynx behind the soft palate, one will see or feel the large tonsils or the fleshy masses which obstruct the posterior orifice of the nasal fossa. one would like to find in these vegetations the cause of the habitual torpor of the children, and of their want of progress. it is true that there is a connection between mental backwardness and adenoids. the removal of the swellings by a surgical operation will make more free the respiration, whose obstruction prevented sustained attention, and will also frequently cure the deafness, which was due to an obstruction of the eustachian tubes. the operation may therefore result in a marked amelioration of the mental condition as well as of the general health. if the amelioration is sufficient, the child can be sent back to the ordinary school. _scrofula, tuberculosis._--a child with a lymphatic appearance, whose tissues are infiltrated with serum, and whose glands readily become enlarged, requires plenty of country air and a nutritious diet. if he is admitted to the special school, it will be advisable to attend to his health before subjecting him to any particular educational methods. the doctor, then, will notice in passing the existence of such conditions as rickets, adenoids, and scrofula in the children who are submitted to him. affections of the lungs and tuberculosis of the bones will also attract his attention. but such affections in abnormal children have no other significance than in the case of children of average intelligence. they furnish no special indication regarding the admission or non-admission of the child into a special class. their severity alone determines the course to follow with respect to their treatment. we shall, however, say a few words about another infirmity--incontinence of urine. if there is presented for a class for defectives a subject, eleven years of age, who cannot control himself in this respect, the course to follow is: submit the child to examination by a specialist, who will decide the nature of the incontinence. if it is curable, give the condition the necessary attention, or give instructions at the school for training the child properly; but if there is an incurable weakness of the sphincters, supply the child with the same kind of apparatus as is used in such cases by ordinary people. * * * * * here, then, are a number of important points upon which the doctor may be called to give his opinion. it is he alone who is able, by his special knowledge, to enlighten the other members of the jury. if the mental condition is doubtful and requires further observation, it is for him to point it out. one will thus avoid the mistake of placing in a class for defectives a lunatic, or a child poisoned by alcohol, who would not find there the kind of care required. if the bodily condition discovered complicates or aggravates the mental deficiency, as adenoid vegetations may do, he will prescribe the proper treatment. if he suspects the coexistence of some neurosis, he will give directions by which the condition may be recognised, and consequently treated. the doctor therefore has to recognise the physical and mental ailments by which the defective may be affected. he makes this diagnosis for two reasons. in the first place, in order that mental deficiency may not be confounded with conditions of illness of a different kind; and, secondly, in order to relieve or cure if possible coexisting affections which may aggravate the condition of the children and interfere with the work of the school. * * * * * we shall conclude here what we have to say about the rôle of the doctor, since in this volume we are specially concerned with the recognition and segregation of the children. to discuss the rôle of the doctor quite fully would take us too far. the details we have given show that the part of the doctor with regard to defectives is quite different from that of the teacher. it is not so much to determine the child's precise mental level as to diagnose the condition of his brain, and to discover, by analysis of all the symptoms, the original responsible agent. that, however, is the second part of the doctor's work, and is of scientific interest; whereas the first part, which consists in diagnosing the ailments which co-exist with the mental deficiency, is of immediate practical utility. let us note, in conclusion, the scientific trend of the present day. a large proportion of medical work is of scientific interest rather than of direct utility for the patient. a concrete example will explain our meaning. a severe shivering, a sudden elevation of the temperature, a dulness on one side of the chest, the presence in the same position of crepitant râles, a rusty, sticky expectoration--such is the syndrome by which a practitioner recognises an attack of acute pneumonia. he knows its duration; he knows the relief which will be produced by the application of poultices. to ideas such as these may be reduced all that is indispensable for the doctor to know in order to exercise his art. the post-mortem examination of the hepatised lung, its increase in density, the histological study of the engorged air cells and bronchioles, the researches upon the pneumococcus, its culture, its vitality--all this constitutes a search into etiology and pathogenesis, whose aim is quite different. the same distinction may be made in the medical study of defective children. and from this point of view the results which at first seem of secondary importance reappear in the foreground. this is the case, for example, with the stigmata of degeneration. it would be unreasonable to attribute to them an individual value, and to utilise them for arranging children serially in the order of their mental deficiency; but in the work of synthesis they are decidedly significant, since their study leads one to consider them either as the effects of, and therefore as witnesses to, alterations in the nervous system, or as the consequences of causes sufficiently powerful to have modified that system. one would not deny all practical bearing to such investigations of pathogenesis. it is a mistake of tolstoy to regard them as the pastime of refined dilettantes. when the biological study of defectives leads to this idea, that the mental weakness of the defectives, like the peculiarities in the character of the ill-balanced, is the result of degeneration--the result, for instance, of the alcoholisation of a people--it will quickly result in measures of social hygiene. the point is, however, that this second part of the work cannot, in our opinion, be carried out under the same conditions as the first. one would like to believe that, in making observations upon heredity and stigmata, the doctors are collecting, in their daily work, materials for a great scientific work which will be produced by degrees. no doubt all their schedules may some day be extracted from the drawers in the office where they will sleep for a long time; but with what object will they be taken out, if not to compile statistics of doubtful value? the truth is that scientific investigation cannot be carried on automatically and collectively. there is always a personal element which is independent of all administrative prescription. what use can be made of observations which are often merely a collection of paper? if we are some day to understand the rôle of heredity, of alcoholism, of insanity, of poverty, in the production of defective children, it will be necessary for someone, who wants to do a really good piece of work, to set aside all these equivocal documents, and go straight to the facts, collecting his information at first hand and in a critical spirit. scientific work can be done in no other way. when it is done otherwise it is worth nothing. we therefore suggest the following schedule for the medical examination of defective children. the schedule includes two parts--one part optional, because it is only of indirect interest; another part which is obligatory. none of the questions in this part should be left unanswered, and the doctor will also give the instructions which he thinks ought to be followed. medical schedule. date of examination: height: name and date of birth of child: weight: part . obligatory. (i.) has the child any mental symptoms other than mental deficiency? signs of alcoholism, etc.? (ii.) is there reason to think the child has any weakness, congenital or acquired? cretinism? (iii.) are there any (_a_) sensory defects--sight? hearing? (_b_) motor defects--paralysis? tremor, etc.? (iv.) is the child epileptic? what symptoms are present--convulsions, vertigo, loss of consciousness? their frequency, etc.? (v.) has the child adenoids? (vi.) is the child hysterical? (vii.) any other ailments? (viii.) what directions are to be given to the schoolmaster? part ii. optional. a. cephalometry and stigmata of degeneration. b. history: birth. convulsions. age at commencement of dentition. age at commencement of control of bladder age at commencement of and bowel. age at commencement of walking. age at commencement of speech. infantile diseases. c. heredity. father-- name: date of birth: place of birth: { syphilis. illnesses { alcoholism. { insanity. mother: _ibid._ brothers and sisters-- number: age: mortality: health of survivors: etc. to sum up, we do not think that the doctor will often have to reject a child, but he will often furnish indications which will help to direct the efforts of the teacher. he will proclaim the opinion, at once so just and so humane, that the symptoms of mental deficiency and want of balance in abnormal children do not arise from laziness or naughtiness, but require no methods of treatment except such as are likely to relieve them. and this conviction which animates him he will impress little by little on the teacher. he will accustom the latter not to regard a defective child at fault like a normal, responsible child, whom he is sometimes tempted to punish in anger, but rather as a patient whose faults should be overcome by persevering patience. footnotes: [ ] for the sake of greater completeness, let us refer to a type of imbecile with very characteristic features--namely, the _mongol_. a little round head, chubby cheeks, rosy as if painted with rouge, oblique eyes, a nose broad at the base and with a tip like a little ball, skin slightly yellow--the whole appearance of the child is such that one doubts his european origin, and thinks of a chinese doll, with limbs of india-rubber, so great is the looseness of the joints. during his first year the mongol is rather drowsy and quiet--too "old-fashioned," as the mothers say. in the second or third year he becomes lively. his countenance acquires a comic and jolly expression, and his imitative instincts become curiously developed, and as a general rule he is very sweet-tempered. they all resemble one another, and all "promise much and achieve little," for they never cease to be imbeciles. chapter v the educational and social return of schools and classes for defectives =an inquiry in the hospitals.=--two years ago one of us betook himself to m. x., an important official in one of our ministries, in order to ask him to join a ministerial commission which was going to pay a visit to one of our asylum-schools. m. x. shrugged his shoulders, and replied energetically: "no, no, no! i have had enough of such visits. i will go neither to the salpêtrière nor to bicêtre. what would i see there? an idiot who allows his saliva to collect in his open mouth; another who has epileptic fits; a third who can say nothing but 'ba, ba!' what would that prove? the only way in which one can find out whether a school for bad cases of mental deficiency is good for anything, is to find out the mental condition of those who leave. how many defective subjects are there who, after having been treated at the salpêtrière or at bicêtre, are able to gain their own livelihood? that is what one would like to know, and that is what no one ever tells us!" the listener to these incisive and sensible remarks replied, after a moment's reflection: "i entirely agree with you. the information which you desire is of the greatest importance for judging the value of a school. i imagine that such information would be difficult to obtain. but one can try. i am willing to make the attempt." a few days later the two authors of the present work took the field. the long preliminary conversations which they had had together about this subject had convinced them that they would encounter opposition. but they decided to treat the question as one treats a scientific matter--with perseverance, with courage, and without _parti pris_ of any kind. let us subdivide the question to make it more plain. we proposed to discover the value of a school. to make such an inquiry really complete, it would be necessary to consider the question from two points of view--the one educational, the other social. the educational return consists in the degree of instruction which the institution succeeds in giving to its pupils, after so much time, and with so much expense. in the case of an institution for the sick, the return will take the medical form of a cure or improvement of health. in order to estimate such various returns, it would evidently be necessary to be in possession of various data: ( ) a knowledge of the state of instruction or the state of health of the subjects on their admission to the school; ( ) a knowledge of their state of instruction or of health on leaving, so that one would be able to estimate by comparison what they owe to the school; ( ) a knowledge of the cost for each pupil, whether for instruction or for medical expenses. the social return consists in the place taken by the pupils in society. this depends in part, it is clear, upon the educational return, but only in part. one could imagine a school, and there are some of the kind, which only cares about producing graduates, without thinking of what will become of them in life, even if they go to the dogs. every class, every school, for defectives ought to aim at rendering its pupils socially useful. it is not a question of enriching their minds, but of giving them the means of working for their living. this is an important question. upon this depends our complete and final judgment of the utility of special education. and be it understood this is not a simple question. nothing is simple in the sphere of sociological phenomena, and one cannot get hold of an atom of truth except by inquiries bristling with difficulties of all kinds--inquiries whose rules, moreover, are not yet known, but which will certainly be known some day. it is quite necessary. in order to discover the social return of an institution, school, or hospital, there are many data to be brought together. here are some of them. what is the number of those who are ultimately able to look after themselves? for how long a time are they able to do so? to what extent have they been assisted by what they acquired at school? and, lastly, what becomes of the failures? but whatever the social or educational return may be, it would be most important to know what would have become of similar cases who had received no such instruction, or, rather, who had been instructed or treated by different methods. a single example will show the importance of these reservations. recently an alienist wanted to prove that all the idiots, without exception, who had been treated in his asylum had been improved. he published copious notes upon these children, which had been taken during several years by different people--the physician, resident doctor, attendant, teacher, etc. on reading these observations one learned that one child, who on admission was unable to walk, by-and-by began to do so. he had grown; he had also begun to speak, etc. in all this there was nothing surprising, and we imagine that, in spite of his optimism, the doctor, who is the author of these observations, would not pretend to credit an increase in size to his medico-pedagogical treatment. as to the rest of the development of the faculties we know nothing. it is possible that an idiot who has ceased to be dirty, or who has learned to dress himself, would have done so in any case without object-lessons. it would be necessary to understand the natural development of idiocy in order to estimate exactly the service which had been rendered by the medico-pedagogical treatment. otherwise sceptics will suspect that three-quarters of what is claimed to be the result of treatment is really due to nature. after these preliminaries, let us now turn to our inquiry. =at the salpêtrière.=--here we were received most kindly. the superintendent of the hospital introduced us to a most excellent woman, mme. meusy, who was at that time head-mistress of the school for defectives at the salpêtrière. this is a little school with about girl pupils. it is part of the clinique of dr. voisin. the school is divided into four classes, each of which is under a lady teacher. it is a modest school, and, we think, little known. elementary education is given there, and, be it understood, the teachers make a point of object-lessons and the training of the senses. but this education has no original feature. it simply follows what is done elsewhere. there is a workshop where the patients skilfully manufacture artificial flowers. dr. voisin has for a long time been asking for a laundry, for the sake of the patients who require physical exercise, but he has not been able to get it. mme. meusy had prepared us to some extent for the work which she had done in the school by intelligent organisation. it was a pleasure to us to see with our own eyes the notes she had kept regarding each of her pupils. all the schedules were in perfect order, regularly filled up to the day. they contained all the medical information, as to diagnosis and treatment, which mme. meusy had been able to procure from the doctor by reiterated requests. they contained also full particulars as to the state of instruction of the child, her character, her aptitudes, and the amount of her school attendance. such notes were repeated periodically, so that it was easy to find out approximately whether or not the child had progressed during her stay in the school. finally, her history after discharge was noted. it is only just that we should here express once more to mme. meusy how much we admired the care, the order, and the intelligence with which she had kept these individual histories. it is an example to be followed. mme. meusy readily placed before us one after another all these documents, and allowed us to extract from them the notes which seemed of most value for our work. while one of us was taking the notes, she contributed much valuable information in a lively voice; for she knew her pupils admirably, she followed them after they left school, and often received visits from them. but, although she clearly understood the importance of our inquiry, she could not keep to herself a distressing thought, which was that a large number of these unfortunate girls had obtained no benefit from the instruction received at the school during a long series of years. the majority, on leaving school, had been transferred to asylums for adults. it saddened her to acknowledge such impotence officially. however, neither she nor her devoted staff of teachers was responsible, for if their educational success was restricted, that was due to the fact that the administration had for some time been sending her the epileptic defectives, while reserving for the fondation vallée the privilege of having the non-epileptic defectives. now, everyone knows that when epilepsy, with repeated fits, is present, it produces a mental decadence against which the best teacher is powerless. the information which we have collected about the work of the school of the salpêtrière bears upon children, who had left the school during the period of four years. now, this is how these children are distributed, if they are classified according to their condition on leaving: . children who had _improved_. some of these had returned to their families; they lived at home, and were employed, more or less, and the directress states that they had improved in their mental condition. these numbered eight. others had become capable of following a calling, either in the asylum as attendants, or outside as seamstresses, ironers, laundresses, domestic servants, etc. these numbered twelve. (none was employed in making artificial flowers, for which there was a workshop in the school.) the total number who had improved, therefore, was twenty. . _doubtful_ cases--children who had returned to their families, but concerning whose mental state and employment precise information was lacking. these numbered twenty. . those who had got _worse_. these are the cases who had been marked "transferred." they are to be found in the lunatic asylums, where they are destined to pass the rest of their existence. of these there is a formidable number--namely, sixty. . those who had _died_, of whom there were seventeen. from all these calculations we obtained a figure to remember, and also an opinion. the figure is that the school for defectives at the salpêtrière returns to active life per cent. of its pupils. the opinion is what one might have known in advance, that in the majority of these cases the education given was a waste of effort, for none of the pupils who had acquired a calling had been affected by the worst degree of mental deficiency, idiocy, or imbecility. moreover, none of these was epileptic as well as mentally defective. in other words, the two worst degrees of mental deficiency do not permit any hope that the child will be made capable of following any calling; and even a lesser degree of deficiency--that is to say, feeble-mindedness--is equally cut off from hope when the feeble-mindedness is complicated by epilepsy. before drawing from this first inquiry any practical conclusions, we should like to reach a comprehensive view of the question. we shall give our conclusions after we have synthetised all our results. after the salpêtrière, bicêtre. =bicêtre.=--the reader would be wrong to imagine that in these visits to the hospitals we are forgetting the school cases of mental deficiency; we are at the heart of the question. whether we are dealing with hospital cases or school cases, there are details of organisation which are the same for all, and there are similar mistakes which we must try to avoid. the asylum-school of bicêtre, which owes its origin, in , to the general council of the seine, and its organisation to dr. bourneville, has a world-wide reputation. dr. bourneville has set himself to demonstrate, by every possible means, that idiots can be improved if they are treated methodically and progressively. it is thanks to his initiative that the medico-pedagogical treatment of idiocy, a treatment which has been much vaunted by the doctors, is now known everywhere. his clinique has constantly been cited as a model. this model has been imitated in france and more especially abroad. the asylums of saint-yon, of la roche-sur-yon, of clermont, of sainte-gemme, and of auxerre, have been inspired by the example of bicêtre, and have followed its methods. the state supports boys in the asylum-school of bicêtre, and girls at the fondation vallée. we have no intention of describing here at length the organisation of these establishments. all who are interested may join in the saturday morning visits, when dr. bourneville goes round the whole of his clinique. we shall content ourselves by saying that the children in the asylum-school of bicêtre are divided into three groups: . the group of _invalids_--children who are idiotic, dirty, epileptic, demented. in this group are those who are regarded as incurable, and some who, although completely idiotic, are capable of some slight improvement. by means of a _swing_ or _see-saw_ their limbs are strengthened, by means of a _go-cart_ they are taught to walk, and by means of the _parallel bars_ they are taught to keep themselves upright. . the _healthy_ children of the _little school_, all of whom are able to walk alone. these undergo treatment for uncleanly habits. special chairs are kept for the dirty, who are placed at stated times upon conveniences in order to regularise their functions. then come _strengthening exercises_, which are gymnastics of a very simple kind; _toilet lessons_ to teach them to wash themselves; _table lessons_, to teach them to feed themselves, with spoon, fork, and even knife; the _training of the senses_; and, lastly, _training in speech_. . the third group includes children in the _big school_. these are less defective than the preceding. they are fit and healthy. but, on the other hand, there are found here a great many abnormal children (perverse and ill-balanced) who are not wanting in intelligence. the big school includes four classes, each under the charge of a professor. the education, especially in the last class, is carried pretty far, and many of the pupils possess their certificate of study. for reasons upon which we will not insist, we were not so delighted with the hospital of bicêtre as we had been with the salpêtrière. we might have dispensed with this visit. the medical superintendent of the school for defectives at bicêtre has taken the trouble for a long time to publish regularly every year a volume of several hundred pages, which contains the most diverse statistical information about everything that goes on. we have studied the volumes bearing upon four years only--the years , , , and . moreover, we profess that we have some knowledge of the school at bicêtre, having not only joined several times in the saturday visits, but having on several occasions carried on there researches in cephalometry; and, in the last place, we have had the pleasure of following in their inspection two members of the ministerial commission, who had had the idea of finding out how the teachers in the big school were fulfilling their functions. it will be remembered that we made a distinction between the educational and the social return. this distinction is not recognised by everyone, and many good people take into account only the social return. there are those who would judge the school of bicêtre by one thing only--the number of patients who are made useful to society. this is a question of great interest, but it is wrong to think that it is the only one to be considered. it would be unjust to confine oneself to it. the injustice can be understood by supposing that one is considering an institution which receives idiots only. would one judge such an institution by asking how many of its patients become capable of winning their livelihood? certainly not. it is possible to be of real service to the patients without raising them to such a level. the cure of dirty habits, for example, is not a thing to be disdained. not only does it result in an economy of linen and washing, but it makes the patient less disgusting, less difficult to take care of. here we have material and moral improvement which, even for those who consider expense only, cannot be considered negligible, for in the end the result is pecuniary economy. but, having stated this principle, it would be necessary to find out what is the value, what is the duration, what is the frequency of such improvements. it would be necessary to know what is their cost, and to compare the cost with the results in order to find out where one was. this kind of stock-taking, both financial and medical, has no place in the publications of the bicêtre, and cannot be replaced by isolated observations on the treatment and improvement of idiot children. there is here, therefore, a first lacuna. we note also with regret the absence of any inspection of the teachers in the schools, who are left to themselves without any supervision but that of the doctor. now, the doctor is not usually an educationist, and it is to be regretted that he does not himself recognise his incompetency in pedagogy, but that, on the contrary, his nature, often prone to take offence, will not submit to any collaboration in his work. having said this, we are going to confine ourselves to the social return of the school of bicêtre, since it is affirmed that such a return exists. we would like to know exactly how many boys and girls have been able, after their discharge, to work at a trade and to maintain themselves. upon this point of capital importance the publications of bicêtre tell us nothing--absolutely nothing. it is, therefore, impossible to find out the real value of this institution, so richly endowed, where the visitor perambulates palatial buildings, is saluted by a fanfare, and admires museums of natural history which would be the envy of many a public educational establishment. the publications give a number of particulars as to the number of dancing lessons, the walks to the jardin d'acclimatation, and the cost of laundry, etc.; but we are left in entire ignorance as to what all this is good for, and what is the practical tangible benefit which society receives from it. everyone knows, however, that the director of the school for defectives at bicêtre is an enlightened philanthropist, who has devoted himself with remarkable zeal and activity to procuring for his old pupils situations which they are capable of filling. he has understood, and was one of the first to do so, that the question of the education of defectives will never be settled until one has settled that of the social usefulness of these children. we have even learned indirectly that he has made many endeavours to induce employers to engage his defectives as workmen; but it is likely that these suggestions have not met with the success they deserved, for the employers, threatened by the new law regarding accidents at work, hesitate to saddle themselves with workers who, being liable to attacks of epilepsy, or affected by motor inability, would lay upon them a very heavy responsibility. on the other hand, the school education has had a good deal of success since it has happened, as we have already remarked, that several of the pupils obtained their certificates of study.[ ] but the only publications which we have consulted say no more about these certificates of study than about the trades followed by the defectives after leaving school. this silence is very significant. in spite of oneself, one puts a bad interpretation upon it. one has an irresistible tendency to believe, not that all the effort at bicêtre has been in vain, but that it has been disproportionate in relation to the result achieved. we have no difficulty in admitting that idiots have been improved, but to what an extent this amelioration loses in importance if the majority of these idiots are destined to pass the rest of their life in an asylum, where they will be nourished in absolute idleness, and where, consequently, the heedless administration will gain nothing for what has been taught them at the price of such great efforts! let us try, however, to interpret the silence of the text. in four years boys have left the school at bicêtre. in studying the school of the salpêtrière we distinguished three classes of children--the _improved_, the _stationary_ or _doubtful_, and those who have got _worse_. we have consulted the statistical tables of bicêtre, and we have not found a single one marked _worse_, although one-third of the entire contingent are epileptic. now, this is very surprising, since we know that epilepsy with repeated fits inexorably results in mental decadence. it is an enigma, which we explain in the following manner: those who are really decadent have been marked _stationary_ by medical or pedagogical optimism. if our interpretation is correct, it recoils forcibly upon the expression _improved_, which is applied frequently to those discharged. to the interpretation of this word _improved_ we are, therefore, obliged to turn our attention. what, then, must be understood by _improved_ when this word is found in the publications of bicêtre? first of all we must subtract a certain number of subjects who have been marked _transferred_. we know what is meant by this little word _transferred_ when it is applied to the children. it is lugubrious. it amounts to a sentence for life. a subject _transferred_ is one who, his time at school come to an end, is removed to an asylum for the insane, where, in all probability, he will stay to the end of his useless existence. if we eliminate the transferred, and if we keep amongst the improved only those who, having been so designated, have returned to their families, we get a proportion of in --that is, per cent. of boys. this proportion seems to us too large, on account of the optimism which these documents exhibit. it is to be noticed, however, that children are sometimes marked _very much improved_, or _notably improved_. if, for the sake of prudence, we consider as improved only those who are designated in this way, we have only eighteen, or per cent. this new proportion, if small in absolute value, still seems to us an exaggeration, because it is reached only by including a certain number of children affected with epilepsy. it must, therefore, be believed that their epilepsy has improved. but the amelioration or cure of epilepsy is not a matter of education; it cannot be considered as a success to be credited to active medico-pedagogical treatment. let us therefore put the cured epileptics aside. there will then remain only seven who have undergone a notable amelioration and have returned to their families. what percentage is this? the total contingent upon which we have been making our calculations numbered , but it is right to exclude all the epileptics, for the reasons we have mentioned. this brings the number down to , and the number of children really improved, calculated upon , amounts, for the boys, to from to per cent. by similar calculations, into the details of which we will not enter, we have shown that the improved amongst the girls are more numerous--namely, per cent. but vallée contains relatively far fewer epileptics than bicêtre. we do not know, also, how many of them have become capable of working at a trade. we therefore conclude with the following propositions: . _at the school of the salpêtrière, per cent. of defective girls improved, and per cent. are able to work at a trade._ . _at the fondation vallée, also, per cent. of defective girls have improved. no return has been furnished as to their future employment._ . _in the case of bicêtre, the number of defective boys improved is from to per cent. it is not known how many of these defectives are employed after leaving school._ * * * * * =some conclusions.=--it seldom happens that one finishes an inquiry without experiencing some disappointment. one starts with great ambitions, intending to make everything plain, but on the way one is forced to lower one's flag. the truth escapes one. sometimes it is the facts which conceal it from us, sometimes it is man who has an interest in concealing it. but the disappointment which has attended our inquiry would surpass the foresight of the most sceptical. on the other hand, if the school for defectives at the salpêtrière has enabled us to collect valuable information, we owe this good fortune entirely to the intelligent initiative of a woman. it was the directress of the school who, apart from all intervention, medical or other, had had the idea of instituting these very complete schedules, which enabled us to discover the economic return of her school. the management deserved none of the credit. as to the school of bicêtre, we have studied it only through its annual publications, and we have managed with great difficulty to obtain only an infinitesimal amount of information of very doubtful value. what lessons are we to draw from these examples as to the future organisation of our schools for defectives? we had hoped that the study of these institutions would have provided us with ready-made experience as to the measures to be taken for founding schools for defectives under good conditions. the contrary has happened. the example of these institutions has taught us one thing--the faults which we ought not to repeat. every impartial mind ought to be with us when we express the view that henceforth the activities of the schools and hospices should be made plain by precise information. for this it would be necessary to take the following measures: . that the definition of the grades of mental deficiency should not vary from one doctor to another, but that one should know what is meant by the word _idiot_, the word _imbecile_, and the word _feeble-minded_. a purely conventional but precise definition would be infinitely better than the present want of any; and we refer to the convention which we have suggested above. . that upon entrance and leaving, the mental condition and the state of instruction of the pupils should be precisely noted, so that by comparison of such notes, rather than by arbitrary estimates, one should be able to determine in what way the pupils have changed during their stay in school. . that on leaving the institution, the children, whether they return to ordinary life or are transferred to asylums for the insane, should be followed up, and that particulars regarding their condition should be transmitted to, and centralised in, the office of the school, so that the masters may be able to judge the ulterior destiny of these children whom they have surrounded with so much solicitude during a period which often amounts to twelve or even fifteen years. by such organisation one would at last know exactly, or at any rate approximately, what are the services rendered by such an institution. one would compare these services with the expenses, and one would see whether the receipts were sufficient to justify the expenditure, or whether, on the contrary, the money had been foolishly squandered, as we have reason to fear may be the case. we would also see upon what children educational effort should be directed, in order to obtain the maximum return. it would be possible to find out, for example, whether it is worth while continuing for five years, eight years, or more, to give lessons in reading to a child who, after two years, is still unable to spell. we will also consider very seriously whether a child who is unfortunately subject to repeated attacks of epilepsy, which no medical treatment has improved, and who is destined to descend progressively and inevitably through all stages of mental decadence, should be kept in his place in a class; and whether the teachers would not be doing better to leave the child at peace than to teach him laboriously the rules of arithmetic and grammar, which will certainly be forgotten soon afterwards in the cloud which will obscure the intelligence. one day, when we were walking through a residential school, we were struck by the spectacle of a poor epileptic. this was a little girl of about fifteen years of age. she was wearing her school apron, and upon her head was the little osier cap which epileptics are made to wear, to avoid the danger of falls upon the head. it was lesson-time. pale and thin, the little patient was sitting quietly in her place, listening to the lesson of her mistress, who was explaining the rule of the agreement of the participle. did she understand? we hope so, since she belonged to one of the higher classes--the second, if we remember rightly. in any case, she was making a great effort to follow the grammatical explanation, and her forehead was thrown into wrinkles. all at once she gave a slight sigh, slipped down in her seat, and fell. the attendant took her in her arms and carried her into a corner of the room. the lesson continued with general indifference. the children pay little attention to such accidents, because they are so used to them. now one, now another, has her attack of epilepsy. after a few minutes our little scholar came to herself. she appeared quite dazed. the attendant spoke to her with kind indifference. "come, now, that is better. it is nothing. it is all over." the child did not reply, but docilely allowed herself to be led to her seat. she took up her former position, appearing to listen vaguely; and on her pinched face, with its drawn features, the lesson in grammar continued to fall. the people, visitors and professors, who were present at that scene, and thought it quite natural, surely did not understand the heart-break of it. some time afterwards we made inquiries about this pupil, being curious to know how she was, and what she was doing. we were told: "she is a poor little thing, who has forgotten a great deal. formerly she was a bright child. now she is going back every day. by-and-by she will no longer be able to read. this is nearly always the way with our epileptics!" this sad story, which we have just recalled, we give as a striking illustration of our statistical calculations regarding the ultimate fate of these institution cases. be it remembered, we had reached this very important conclusion: that epileptics, whether feeble-minded, or imbecile, or idiotic, never become capable of working at a trade. this somewhat vague conclusion it would be of great interest to examine more closely. our little epileptic, who is gradually falling back, is an example. she has already reached the height of her development; she is fifteen years of age, and she is beginning to decline. we foresee the time when she will no longer know how to read. is there, then, any use in wearying the poor thing by teaching her an abstract grammar rule? * * * * * let us turn now to our school cases. our conclusions may be divined. we expressly demand that the utility of the schools shall be rigorously established, and that the teachers and inspectors shall be bound to take exact notes of the mental condition and the state of instruction of the pupils on entrance and on leaving. in this way one will act like any good shopkeeper, who considers it one of his chief duties to keep accounts of what he is doing. his system of book-keeping shows his position in a way which is indispensable if he is not to lose his money. he knows at what price he buys, at what price and under what conditions he sells, and whether, in consequence, his profits are sufficient to encourage him to continue to deal in such and such articles. in the same way, in a well-managed school for defectives, it is necessary to know the exact details concerning the condition of the pupils on entrance and on leaving, in order that one may be able to judge the services rendered by the school; in order that one may be able to find out whether the educational methods employed are good, bad, or indifferent; whether they are better than those of another school, where different methods are followed, and so on. such control is equally necessary in order to find out whether a particular category of children gives greater degrees of success than another; whether certain degrees of mental deficiency are capable of improvement only to an infinitesimal extent. such things cannot be known in advance, and should not be decided lightly in credence of an _a priori_ opinion, but should be determined by accurate scientific methods, in the interest of the schools, in the interest of the pupils, and also in the interest of the tax-payers, who bear the cost. it will not do to content oneself with admiring _in abstracto_ the goodness of the methods and the progress of the pupils, but it must ever be remembered that the aim of the schools should be to fit the defectives to take a useful place in society. the school should not aim at turning out brilliant pupils, stars in competition, but individuals capable of looking after themselves and gaining their own livelihood. this should be the constant pre-occupation of the teachers. they should not shut themselves up within the four walls of their school, saying, "the life outside is no concern of ours." it is their imperative duty to consider the school life as a preparation for life outside. they ought, therefore, to pay attention to the needs of the immediate school environment, in order to know what are the industries which require workers, to take account of which of them are accessible to defectives, and to direct their education accordingly. domestic service in the country, for example, which requires but little initiative, would seem to be an excellent refuge for feeble-minded girls with good instincts. agricultural labour supplies an excellent outlet for the boys, for in the country life is less complicated, and adaptation is more easy, than in the towns. there is a certain, practical, even easy way of finding out whether the teacher has been trying to keep in contact with real life, and whether his school for defectives is well managed. it is to find out what becomes of the defectives on leaving school, and what percentage he has been able to place in situations with a suitable salary. such measures of control are so logical that they only require to be formulated to obtain the immediate assent of all sensible minds. yet one may ask whether, as a matter of fact, in the schools managed by the state, the inspectors occupy themselves sufficiently with this practical side of education, and do not even make the mistake of judging the education by itself, according to a conventional, literary, or scientific ideal. we are not speaking of public schools, colleges, and lycées. these establishments are attended by normal children, and it may be admitted that it is not, strictly speaking, the business of the state to prepare these for social life. as a matter of fact, that is not our own opinion, but that does not matter. what is certain is that the duty of the state becomes more precise and more pressing when it is a question of assuring the lot of the defectives. has it always been kept in mind that their education should put them in the way of an occupation, and that one should teach them nothing useless, so as not to make them lose their time? we do not think so. we hope that the schools for the blind take care to know whether the braille which they teach their pupils is a method of reading and writing which will be useful to them in life; whether the manual arts, such as caning chairs, the making of brushes and mattresses, are the best means which they can teach to the non-musicians whereby to gain their bread. we equally hope that in the schools for the deaf and dumb, which are teaching their pupils by the oral method--with what effort, what expense, and what devotion one may imagine--they have inquired what percentage of their pupils attained the ability to communicate verbally with people other than their teachers, and also what is the percentage of pupils who, ten years after leaving school, still use that method and find it advantageous. all these questions should be asked, and conscientious minds should try to find an answer to them by impartial inquiry, in order to find out whether the methods are useful, and whether the school is directing its energies well. what is being done about this with respect to the schools for defectives? we must do this justice to the legislation at present projected with regard to defectives, that it is not indifferent with regard to this question of control. the ministerial commission, in which one of us took part, heard many demands for guarantees of this kind. its mistrust was awakened, and it made a number of suggestions which have been included in the bill. thus, an elementary school inspector is trusted with the duty of taking account of the educational progress of each child. a little book must be kept recording full particulars of each individual case. the principle of supervision by a care committee after leaving school has been adopted. all this is excellent. the law cannot enter into minute details. administrative rules must be drawn up to provide against the two causes of error, prejudice and negligence. let us consider this question from our own point of view, and distinguish clearly between the educational and the social return. =the educational return of the special schools and classes.=--in the first place, in order to gauge the advantages of special education, it is necessary to find out what becomes of defectives when they are left in the ordinary schools. it is quite clear that special education should be condemned and suppressed if it does not do more than the ordinary schools. we have seen that, in the latter, the defective is a dead weight, and the ill-balanced is a nuisance. nevertheless, one must not jump to the conclusion that these children are in no wise modified by the school influences, and do not profit in any degree by the instruction. we have already pointed out some very touching facts: a little defective girl has learned to read, thanks to the persevering help of one of her normal companions. this proves, at least, that association with normal children may be good for something, but let us leave such anecdotes and attempt to reach a comprehensive view of the situation. we have been able to collect in the primary schools of paris, thanks to the kind assistance of m. belot, particulars which are very valuable, though restricted in amount. these particulars we have examined in every possible way, and we always reach the same conclusion: _the defective makes very slow progress in the ordinary schools_. let us consider, for example, _en bloc_, forty-five defectives of whom we possess records, and see to what extent they are behind at different ages. we get the following table: age. retardation. years } " } about years. -½ " } " } -½ " } about years. " } -½ " } " } " } about years. thus, the amount of retardation increases with the years. it is at first two years, then three, then five. but this augmentation in the amount of retardation, which is the first fact to strike the attention, ought not to conceal from us that there is real progress in the mental condition and in the studies; in fact, we may remark that if a defective child, in passing from the age of eight to eleven, has an augmentation of retardation of one year with respect to his companions, this proves that in the same time he has progressed two years with respect to himself. it is like an omnibus which goes more and more slowly, yet advances all the same. to be more precise, let us say that, since the defectives reach, as an upper limit, the intermediate course, and that in the proportion of two-thirds, one may conclude that they make nearly half the progress of the normal children. be it understood, this is only roughly true, and many reservations must be made with regard to details. but the indication which these documents afford is, nevertheless, very instructive, for it shows us that the majority, two-thirds at least, of the defectives appear regularly to duplicate each class, or to take two years to pass a stage which the normal child passes in one. it is important to remember this, for the teachers do not always give the facts their true value. they have a tendency to compare the slow progress of the defective with the more rapid progress of the normal, and to conclude from this comparison that the defective remains stationary. this is a pure illusion, which may be compared to what one experiences when looking out of the window of a train in motion. one sees another train going in the same direction but more slowly, and imagines that the second train is not moving. let us retain, therefore, provisionally, the following important idea: _only half the defectives in an ordinary school reach with difficulty the intermediate course, first year, passing through the different stages in double the normal time._ no doubt one would find many examples of slower progress still, three or four times the normal. on the other hand, the teacher sometimes points out a defective who has improved very rapidly, as if his intellect awoke from a long sleep. such cases exist, but they are very rare, and they are open to the suspicion that an error in diagnosis has been made, and that the child who has improved so greatly was wrongly considered defective. with regard to the ill-balanced, the success of the ordinary school is much greater. a recent inquiry taught us that in the course of two years half the children noted as ill-balanced were regarded by the teachers as improved. this figure speaks for itself. from this we may conclude in a general way that it is essential that the special schools and classes should bring more than half of their defective pupils to the level of the intermediate course, and improve more than half of the ill-balanced, if they are to render public services superior to those of the ordinary schools. this must be the aim. how are we to know whether it is attained or not? by supervision exercised in the most serious manner, by well-kept individual records, in which are noted only facts which can be controlled. we remember, a dozen years ago, having turned over the records of young defectives in an asylum-school which had the reputation of perfect organisation, a reputation otherwise deserved, for everything that was shown to the public on visiting days was perfect. but a distinction must be drawn between what one sees and what one does not see. the records were kept with surprising negligence. they were dirty in appearance, torn, disordered, falling to bits. on reading them one only met with vague estimations, loosely expressed, about children who, as was repeated to satiety, "would make progress if they would work better." the less we say the better about contradictory diagnosis, such as one we noticed on a certificate of discharge: "complete idiocy--very much improved"; or the too optimistic prognosis, really very naïve, if the writer has not had the bad taste to be ironical: "vicious child--would make an excellent housemaid." if documents could be kept in this way, it is quite clear that those who so kept them felt pretty sure that nobody would ever read them. we demand that the notes which show the educational progress of the pupils should be written under the constant fear of control, in order that they may be guaranteed against negligence and interested optimism. the manner of control is very simple, and may be summed up in three paragraphs. . the estimation of the progress of the children should be made by the professors themselves, since they know each child well. the professor will always keep in mind that his notes will be checked by the inspector. with regard to instruction, notes will be kept with regard to reading, writing, arithmetic, spelling, according to the methods which we have indicated, and such remarks as "good," "very good," "passable," each signifying absolutely nothing, will be avoided. with regard to the manual work, it goes without saying that the record would have to be made in a somewhat different way. . the inspector will examine a certain number of cases chosen haphazard. he must carry out this control with an open mind and without prejudice. . he will make use of methods of control of a strictly impersonal nature. =social return.=--we are surprised to find that abroad there have been published very few particulars concerning the social return of the schools, although they have been in existence for a long time, some of them for forty years. statistics are rare, without commentaries, and some of them are apparently prejudiced. in order to find out what they are worth, we think it would be necessary to live in the country, and to observe carefully for oneself the work of the schools. the official documents do not teach very much, and one may suspect that every public service which is not supervised in the most intelligent manner, and incited by competition, will slip into routine and empiricism. we demand an inquiry on the two following points: how many defectives are provided with a trade when they leave the special schools? how many defectives are provided with a trade when they do not leave the special schools? such an inquiry, we may be certain, has never been seriously undertaken. here are some statistics. mme. fuster, after a stay in germany, where she visited some _hilfschule_ and _hilfsclasse_ (literally, "help-schools" and "help-classes") made a communication to the société de l'enfant, from which it appears that in the case of classes for defectives in berlin, to per cent. of the defective pupils who were there became able to carry on a trade; to per cent. died in the course of study, or returned to their homes, or were sent to medical institutions for idiots. according to a more recent inquiry, made under the auspices of m. de gizycki at berlin, and published in a book by paul dubois, per cent. of the children were sent home or to asylums; per cent. were apprenticed; per cent. worked at occupations which required no knowledge and yielded little pay (labourers, crossing-sweepers, ragmen). if we add together these two last groups, we reach a proportion of per cent. of defectives who have been made, or who have become, more or less useful. we shall quote a last document, to which we attach more importance than to the preceding, for we have full confidence in the author. dr. decroly has kindly arranged at our request a few figures relating to the occupational classification of the girls discharged from a special class in brussels. he states that the class was opened only in , that education in belgium is not compulsory, that many of the pupils leave the class too soon--all circumstances which explain the smallness of the success. he firmly believes in the educational value of special instruction, provided one does not expect miracles. he has a good critical mind. we cannot publish here the whole table. we shall summarise it thus: of three idiots, practically nothing is known; of eight imbeciles, one is employed at home, one unemployed (?), and one is messenger to a shoemaker. one can scarcely expect any real return in the case of imbeciles and idiots, and the merit of dr. decroly's statistics lies in the fact of distinguishing between such children and the feeble-minded. let us speak more fully of the latter. they are thirty in number. concerning nine there are no particulars. two have entered a catholic school, and nothing more is known about them. if we subtract these eleven, there remain nineteen. some of these are "kept at home," or "occupied at home"; of these there are five. we do not know exactly what they are doing. there are others who "work," but it is not stated whether this is outside, or whether the work deserves to be taken into account. four belong to this category. there remain the apprentices (tailors, cigarette-makers, sewers, etc.), of whom there are nine. perhaps the last figure is the only one which deserves to be taken into account. finally, then, out of nineteen feeble-minded subjects, regarding whom particulars have been supplied, one half, or per cent., have been apprenticed; or more than half, per cent., if we count the defectives who "work." we are not, therefore, very far from the figures collected by mme. fuster for the special classes of berlin, nor from those published by gizycki. we do not think enough of the ordinary school, and of the service it renders to the defectives; or, rather, we are too ready to assert that it does nothing for them. yet, all the defectives who leave it do not turn out badly. there are journalists who try to attract the attention of public bodies by declaring that defectives, left to themselves, inevitably fall into mendicancy and crime. what do they know about it? absolutely nothing, since no serious inquiry has ever been carried out. even we, for several years, allowed ourselves to be influenced by such suggestions, until the day when one of these journalists went rather too far. we refer to an alienist who published in a morning paper a series of articles on the defectives. after having estimated their total number at , , he called them "the madmen of to-morrow," truly an excellent title for a sensational article. but, little as one might think it, of all that was written nothing was really proved. those who think that the defectives are destined to become lunatics are just as much in a dream as those who declare they will become criminals. the fact is that we are in complete ignorance, because one has always recoiled from an inquiry which promised to be as long as it would be troublesome. and it is a disgrace, let us say frankly, that no state has ever undertaken it. through the intervention of an inspector, m. belot, we have inquired of twenty heads of schools what has become of the defectives whom they notified to us two years ago. we have made these inquiries with regard to sixty-six children only. poor figures, indeed, and we would not give them, but that a little is better than nothing. these sixty-six children may be classified thus: thirty-five are defective, twenty-six ill-balanced, and three both defective and ill-balanced. retardation is quite plain in the unstable, amounting to from one to two years; it is very marked in the case of the defectives (one alone has a retardation of two years, the others have a retardation of three, four, six, and even seven years). we give these figures only that it may not be imagined that we are dealing with cases of slight feeble-mindedness with a retardation of one or two years. it is necessary to understand these details in order to form a correct idea of the value of the figures. the particulars regarding the ultimate destiny of these sixty-six children are as follows: . _no return in the case of fourteen children._--some left the district without giving an address. some even left school with insults from the parents directed against the teachers. . _children still at school._--these number twenty-two. we have already spoken about this little group, and have remarked that some of them have improved. . _children sent home or placed in asylums._--there are three who have been sent to asylums. we know one of them, an imbecile, but he had bad instincts, and who knows but that he might have been made useful? with regard to the others, who have been sent home, we have only very vague particulars, and the interpretation of their condition is quite arbitrary. some of them seem to be useful. some girls help at home. some boys assist their fathers at their work, but are said to be wanting in balance or to require constant supervision. we have thought it well to include them in this third category, which stands for the social waste. they number ten. we repeat that the limits of this group are extremely ill-defined. with a little optimism one might have passed three-quarters into the following group; with a little more strictness, on the other hand, the present group would have been larger. we emphasise the difficulty of limiting the frontier impartially. it would be a good thing to make use of a criterion, good or bad, but exact. one will, no doubt, be found, but in the meantime we have none. . _children who have become useful._--these are they who have become capable of following some calling. it is evident that one should take account of the nature of the calling followed; many are misery in disguise. a little time should also be allowed, for a child may not find definite occupation immediately on leaving school. in fact, the only particular we have regarding this last group of children is, that they have entered on an apprenticeship. girls are apprenticed to dressmakers or laundresses. boys are apprenticed as hairdressers, tinsmiths, gilders, printers, carpenters, etc. these children number seventeen. these results have impressed us rather favourably. we did not expect that the majority of defectives from the ordinary school would enter an apprenticeship; but, in fact, the majority did so. if we abstract the two first groups, those about whom the particulars are wanting, and those who have not yet left school, there remain twenty-seven children, of whom seventeen have been apprenticed, or per cent. from these statements the following conclusion is reached--namely, that, contrary to an opinion which attempts are being made to spread abroad, the ordinary school does render real service to the defective child. we have already seen, _à propos_ of the educational return, that the ordinary school carries a proportion of the defectives as far as the intermediate course. all these facts are mutually confirmatory. is it possible to go farther? we have just seen that the ordinary school permits the occupational classing of per cent. of the defectives. now, this proportion is, by an unexpected agreement, identical with that obtained in the classes of berlin and brussels, whence an opponent of special instruction would hasten to argue that such instruction is useless, or that, at least, it could not prove its usefulness except on the condition of insuring occupational classing superior to per cent. we do not think, after mature reflection, that this proposition would be justified. all our figures show is that the majority of defectives who pass through the ordinary school had not entirely lost their time, since they reached the stage of entering upon an apprenticeship. but it will not do to take account only of the proportion of children classed as workers; it would be necessary also to take account of the duration of such classing, and especially of its quality. a defective enters upon an apprenticeship. that is good, but how long does he retain it? will he be discharged as incapable at the end of a few months? if he is kept, will he remain in the lowest employments--for example, unskilled labour? in connection with all trades, there are minor occupations in which defectives stagnate. our figures do not take account of these differences, which are of considerable interest, nor do they give any fuller ideas with regard to the utilisation of the defectives. and it would be necessary for the statistical method to be carried out with greater perfection to enable us to measure the services rendered by special instruction. it is probable that the special school would render greater services than the ordinary school, because it has greater advantages: teachers experienced in the training of defectives, a curriculum better fitted to the aptitudes of the latter, and, most important of all, the possibility of individual instruction. let us stop here. in the meantime this is all that we can say with regard to the organisation and control of special education. if we were to attempt to go farther we could do so only on _a priori_ grounds. the time has come for experiment. the new classes which are being formed in bordeaux, paris, and elsewhere, must be carefully watched. we shall grope, we shall make attempts, certainly we shall commit mistakes, which will not matter very much if only we have the mind to recognise them and the courage to put them right. the essential thing is for all the world to understand that empiricism has had its day, and that methods of scientific precision must be introduced into all educational work, to carry everywhere good sense and light. footnotes: [ ] in trying to explain this success, one must, no doubt, take into account the comparatively advanced age of the children, the probable leniency of the examiners, and, above all, the fact that the ill-balanced subject is a moral rather than a mental defective. appendix [n.b.--throughout the appendix roman numerals refer to ages--_e.g._, iv. = second test for children of four years.] part of the interest of this work on defective children consists in the fact that in it we find the origin of those ideas and investigations which culminated in the formation of the binet-simon scale of intelligence, now so widely known throughout europe and america. the ideal that binet set before himself was the formation of a scale which should measure intelligence in something the same way as the foot-rule measures height. the first difficulty was the unit. if we regard intelligence as the power to cope with a situation, we see that this power in a general way increases with the experience of the child, or, we may say, with his age. a child of nine should have more intelligence than one of eight, a child of eight than a child of seven, and so on. we may suppose, then, that there is a normal intelligence for each age just as there is a normal height for each age, although in the first case, as in the second, many children fall below and many rise above the standard. it is clearly by no means so easy to establish a norm for intelligence as for height, nevertheless, the method should be the same; that is, we should begin by finding out what the intelligence of children of different ages actually is, and from these results we should derive averages which might be used as norms. in the course of his work with defectives, binet, as we have seen, had gathered a number of questions which he had found useful as tests of intelligence. he now, in conjunction with dr. simon, proceeded to extend the number of these tests and to assign each to its appropriate age. the method he adopted was this: he tried each test on a great number of normal children of the same age. if a large majority answered satisfactorily, he set the test down as suitable for that age; if a majority failed, he moved it to a more advanced age, and tested it again on older children. when we consider his scale then, we must remember that the arrangement is no arbitrary one, but has been derived from actual experiment. in , after having been tried on over two hundred parisian school children, the tests were published in the form of a scale, giving a measure of intelligence graded from three to thirteen years of age. by this scale it was held a child's mental age, which, of course, was often not the same as his chronological age, could be determined. in there was published a revised scale in which, owing to the results of further experiment and criticism, a considerable number of alterations in the grading of the tests was made. this revised form of the scale is given below. for convenience in use the _exact_ words to be said to the child are placed first, the particular directions for each test being given afterwards. general directions regarding the tests and the method of marking will be found at the end of the scale. tests of intelligence. _three years._ . "show me your eyes." "show me your nose." "show me your mouth." count the child correct if he indicates in any way that he understands. . "i am going to say two numbers. say them after me-- , ."--"again, , ."--"again, , ." the examiner must say the figures slowly; an interval of half a second should be allowed between the two. the child passes if he is successful once out of the three trials. . "here is a picture; tell me what you see." the child passes at this level if he simply enumerates objects seen in the pictures (figs. , , ). . "what is your name?" for a pass the surname must be given, but if the child says his christian name only, the examiner may press him by asking "what else?" . "say this sentence after me--'i am cold and hungry.'" if the child is timid, he may be tried first with shorter sentences. he is not allowed to pass unless his enunciation is perfect. a sentence containing six syllables should be remembered at this level. _four years._ . "are you a little boy or a little girl?" if necessary, this question may be divided: "are you a little boy?" "are you a little girl?" . "what is this?"--"and this?"--"and this?" the examiner shows the child successively a key, a penny, and a knife. . "i am going to say three numbers. i want you to repeat them. listen. , , ."--"again, , , ."--"again, , , ." one success suffices. . "you see these lines. tell me which is longer." see fig. . no hesitation or uncertainty is satisfactory. _five years._ . "you see these boxes. tell me which is heavier." the examiner places two boxes precisely the same in appearance, but weighing respectively grammes and grammes, before the child. he repeats the test with similar boxes, weighing respectively and grammes, and then the first pair is again presented. the boxes should be arranged so that the heavier one is alternately at the right and at the left side. very young children nearly always indicate one of the boxes by chance without testing them. in this case the examiner is allowed to say, "you must take the boxes in your hand and weigh them." . "copy this picture for me." the examiner shows the child a card on which is drawn a square, the side of which measures an inch and a half. the child is given pen and ink, an unfamiliar instrument to him at this age. he passes if his square can be recognised as a square. . "listen to this, and repeat it after me: 'my name is charlie. oh! the naughty dog!'" memory of a sentence containing ten syllables is required. . "you see these pennies. now count them with your finger." four pennies are placed before the child. they are juxtaposed, but not superposed. in order to pass, he must count them, touching each with his forefinger as he says its number. some little children begin to count before they touch the first penny; thus they may reach five or six or even more. . "put these pieces together so as to make them look like this." the examiner has two oblong cards--postcards do very well--one of which is cut in two pieces along the diagonal. before giving the direction to the child, he places the intact card on the table, and, nearer the child, the two pieces of the other card arranged so that the two hypotenuses form a right angle.[a] _six years._ . "is it morning or afternoon now?" as many little children tend simply to repeat the examiner's last words, it is better to reverse the terms "morning" and "afternoon" when the examination takes place in the afternoon. . "what is a fork?"--what is a table?"--"a chair?"--"a horse?"--a mamma?" three levels of intelligence may be distinguished in the responses. the lowest is that of silence, or repetition of the term, or designation by gesture. the second, which should be attained at the age of six, is that of definition by use, as: "a fork is for eating with." the third level is attained by the ninth year; the child at this level attempts to describe the object or to say what it is made of. the type of the majority of the definitions determines one's judgment of the level attained. . "copy this picture for me." the examiner shows the child a card on which is drawn a diamond, of which the side measures an inch and a half, and the acute angles degrees. the drawing must be done with pen and ink. . "count these pennies." thirteen pennies are placed on the table in a group (not in a line) touching one another, but not superposed. . "which is the prettier of these two faces?"--"and of these?"--"and of these?" see fig. . three correct responses required. _seven years._ . "show me your right hand."--"show me your left ear." . "here is a picture. tell me what you see." description of picture required (figs. , , .) . "do you see this key? go and put it on that chair. then close the door. then take the box which is lying on the chair near the door and bring it to me. first put the key on the chair, then close the door, then bring me the box." no help or suggestion by word or look must be given during the execution of this task. . "how much money is there here altogether?" three pennies and three halfpennies are placed on the table before the child. . "what is this colour?"--"and this?"--"and this?"--"and this?" the examiner shows the child successively the four colours--red, yellow, blue, and green. _eight years._ . "you know a butterfly?"--"and you know a fly?"--"are they like one another?"--"well, in what way are they not alike?" the same questions are asked about wood and glass, and paper and cardboard. two comparisons at least must be given correctly. . "you can count, can't you?"--"well, will you count for me backwards from twenty to nothing? begin , ...." one error is allowed, but the task must be finished in twenty seconds. . "what is missing in this picture?" the child must not be allowed to see the figure in the diagram until he has answered the questions regarding the heads. otherwise, when shown a head, he may say, being influenced by suggestion, "it has no body." see fig. . the same question is put for each of the four pictures. . "can you tell me what day it is?"--"and will you tell me the date also?" the year must be given; three or four days' latitude is allowed in the day of the month. . "i am going to say five numbers. listen and repeat them after me. , , , , ."--"again, , , , , ."--"again, , , , , ." one success suffices. _nine years._ . "would you like to play shop? you be shopkeeper. i will buy from you this box. it costs twopence." here the examiner hands the child a shilling. "now, will you give me change out of this money here?" in order to give the change the child is provided with one of each of our current coins--sovereign, half-sovereign, crown, half-crown, florin, shilling, sixpence, threepence, penny, halfpenny--and in addition five halfpence and six pennies. _note._--binet gives the child a franc for an article valued at sous, and the child has to select his change from the following coins: coins of the value fr. , of the value fr. , and of each of the others--viz., fr. , fr. , fr., fr., fr., fr., fr. . "what is a fork?"--"what is a table?"--"a chair?"--"a horse?"--"a mamma?" for a pass three at least of the definitions must be given in a form superior to the "use" type. . "what is the name of this coin?"--"and of this?"--"and of this?" the examiner in this way goes through in irregular order all our current pieces of money. coins like one another should not be shown in immediate succession. . "will you tell me the names of the months in order?" one omission or one inversion is allowed to pass. . "what would you do if you missed a train?"--"what would you do if one of your playmates should hit you without meaning to do so?"--"what would you do if you broke something belonging to someone else?" for a pass two at least of these questions must be answered sensibly. _ten years._ . "you see these little boxes. they are not all the same weight. some are heavy and some are light. place the heaviest one here, and at its side the one which is a little less heavy, then the one still a little less, and finally the lightest of all." the boxes in question weigh respectively , , , , and grammes, and all look the same. they are placed in a pile before the child, and as the examiner gives the directions he indicates with his finger the place he appoints for each box. three trials should be given, the boxes being mixed after each trial. in order to pass the child must be correct at least twice. the time should not exceed three minutes. the material for the test can be easily made from match-boxes. . "now i am going to show you two drawings. you may look at them for ten seconds, which is a very short time. then i will ask you to draw them from memory." for the drawings see fig. . the child is counted correct if he reproduces the whole of one drawing and half the other. . "i am going to read you some sentences, each of which contains something foolish. listen attentively and tell me each time what is foolish." the examiner reads the sentences impressively, but without any special emphasis on the part the child should comment on. each time when he finishes he changes his tone, and demands, "what is foolish in that?" _sentences._--( ) an unfortunate bicycle rider fell on his head and was killed instantly; he was taken to a hospital, and they fear he will not recover. ( ) i have three brothers, paul, ernest, and myself. ( ) the body of an unfortunate young girl, cut into eighteen pieces, was found yesterday on the fortifications. it is thought that she killed herself. ( ) there was a railway accident yesterday, but it was not a bad one; the number of dead is only forty-eight. ( ) someone said if i should ever grow desperate and kill myself, i will not choose friday, because friday is an unlucky day, and will bring me unhappiness. three satisfactory answers are required. . "what would you do if you were delayed in going to school?"--"what would you do before taking part in an important affair?"--"why is a bad action done when one is angry more excusable than the same action done when one is not angry?"--"what would you do if you were asked your opinion of someone whom you did not know well?"--"why should one judge a person by his acts rather than by his words?" three sensible answers must be given. . "i am going to read you three words, and i want you to make a sentence and use in it the three words. the words are paris, fortune, stream." the expression "make a sentence" must not be further explained, but the instructions may be repeated. the child is given a pencil and paper, and, if necessary, should be urged to write something. for a pass the sentence should be well co-ordinated. at this stage it may contain two distinct ideas, but not three; at the higher level it must contain only one idea (see xii. ). one minute is the time allowed for writing. _twelve years._ . "which is the longer of these two lines?"--"and of those?"--"and of those?"--"and of those?"--"and of those?"--"and of those?" this test is aimed at the suggestibility of the child. for the material see figs. - . the first three pairs of lines differ in length, the longer being at the right hand; the last three pairs are equal. it is sufficient if the child correctly judges two of the last three pairs to be equal. . "i am going to read you three words. i want you to make a sentence and use in it the three words. the words are paris, fortune, stream." for directions see xi. . . "i am going to allow you three minutes, and i want you to say as many words as you can think of. some children have said more than two hundred. let us see how many you can do. ready? start." in order to pass the child must say over sixty words. . "what is charity?"--"what is justice?"--"what is kindness?" two correct responses are required. . "put these words in their proper order and find the sentence which they make." three cards are successively presented to the child, on each of which is very clearly written or printed one of the following sets of words arranged in three lines. ( ) for--an--the--at--hour--early--we--country--started. ( ) to--asked--exercise--my--i--teacher--correct--my. ( ) a--defends--dog--good--his--master--bravely. one minute is allowed for each sentence, and two correct answers are required. _fifteen years._ . "i am going to say seven numbers to you, and i want you to repeat them after me. now, , , , , , , ."--"again, , , , , , , ."--"again, , , , , , , ." one success suffices. . "do you know the meaning of the word 'rhyme'? two words are said to rhyme when they have similar endings, such as hour and flower, or candy and dandy. do you understand? now, find all the words which rhyme with day." the child is required to find three rhymes in one minute. . "i am going to say some sentences to you, and i want you to repeat them exactly after me. ready? 'the other day i saw on the street a pretty yellow dog. little maurice has stained his nice new apron.'" the examiner is advised to have ready a series of sentences formed of words easy to understand. he should begin with one somewhat shorter than that suggested, which consists of twenty-six syllables--the length required by binet at this age. . "here is a picture. tell me what you see." at this level interpretation of the picture is required. mere description of the activities represented is not sufficient. . "listen to what i am going to read to you: a woman was walking through a park in chicago. suddenly she stopped, dreadfully frightened. she ran to the nearest policeman and told him she had seen hanging to the limb of a tree"--after a pause--"a what?" "again: my neighbour has just received some singular visitors: one after another a doctor, a lawyer, and a priest called. what is happening at my neighbour's?" both problems must be solved satisfactorily. _adult._ . "here is a paper folded in four. suppose that here" (pointing to a small triangle that has been drawn in the middle of the edge which presents a single fold) "i cut out this little triangle. now, if i unfold the paper, how would it look? draw the paper as, it would appear if unfolded and show how and where it would be cut." the paper is square to begin with, and is folded twice so as to show a square one quarter of the original size. the required drawing will show two diamonds drawn in line with each other, and each in the centre of one half of a square. . "look at this card. suppose i lift this lower part and place this edge (tracing the edge _a c_ with the finger) on this edge (the diagonal of the upper piece). suppose also that this point (_c_) is placed just on this point (_b_). now i will take away the piece, and do you draw the whole figure as it will appear when the proposed change is made. begin by drawing the upper part." [illustration] a right angle must be represented at _b_, and the edge _a c_ be shown shorter than the edge _a b_. . "what is the difference between laziness and idleness?"--what is the difference between event and advent?"--"what is the difference between evolution and revolution?" two correct answers required. . "there are three principal differences between a king and a president of a republic. what are they?" required answer: royalty is hereditary, the tenure of office is for life, and its powers are very great; the president is elected, his tenure of office is for a limited time, and his powers are less extensive. . "listen to what i am going to read to you. when i have finished i shall ask you to give me the sense of the passage: 'many opinions have been given on the value of life. some call it good, others call it bad. it would be more just to say that it is mediocre, for on the one hand our happiness is never so great as we would have it, and on the other hand our misfortunes are never so great as others would have them. it is this mediocrity of life which makes it just, or rather which prevents it from being radically unjust.'" =directions to examiners.=--in the use of the binet scale there are various pitfalls that await the beginner. in the first place he is almost certain to array himself on the side of the child and to declare in some instances that the test is not a fair one--the child could have passed had he understood what was wanted. one frequently sees this attitude towards the puzzle test. (v. .) for example, the examiner is dissatisfied when the child simply moves the pieces of card about in a meaningless way, and he tries to explain more clearly what is wanted. i have seen one examiner go so far as to show the child the solution, and then give him a pass when he repeated it. the examiner must always remember that a child who has reached the required level of intelligence will himself see what is wanted. this comprehension is indeed the very thing we are testing for. secondly, the examiner is apt to show by his manner when he is dissatisfied with a child's answer. in some cases this may lead him to correct himself--_e.g._, vii. . the examiner must bear constantly in mind that _all answers are equally pleasing to him_; he is not there to instruct the child, but to test him. when meaningless or absurd responses are given, as they frequently are, the examiner must accept them cheerfully, even in some cases with praise, and record a failure. the record, of course, must never be visible to the child. again, the examiner must not suppose that the scale can be applied mechanically. both experience and judgment are necessary before the results can be correctly gauged. in certain tests--_e.g._, the absurdities--a child's manner tells as much as his words. the children on whom i have tried this test nearly always laughed when they really grasped the point. before he lays much stress on his results an examiner should have tested at least twenty children. there is another factor which prevents any mechanical use of the scale leading to satisfactory results, and that is the variability of the child's responsiveness. with an unsympathetic examiner, or with an unfortunate start, he will do himself less than justice. it is the business of the examiner to keep the child in that state of mental exhilaration which enables him to do his best. words of encouragement and praise should in some cases be freely used, but, of course, care must always be taken to avoid, whether in word, tone, gesture, or facial expression, the slightest suggestion of the correct solution. the happy state of mind must be secured at the very beginning, and for this purpose the choice of the first test is very important. i call to mind a bright child of eight who was confronted first with a simple puzzle test. for some reason, probably over-anxiety to do well, she did not see the solution, and being too intelligent not to perceive her own failure, she burst into tears. such unfortunate accidents are, however, rare. the children usually enjoy the interview. to secure a good start one must begin with a test which the child will regard as easy and pleasant. one soon knows almost at sight of the child what it is best to try first. one usually begins with tests for an age at least a year younger than that of the little subject, and works upward. the examiner should be alone with the child except for the presence of someone whose business it is to make notes. in such tests as the description of a picture, the definition tests, the questions of everyday life, the child's full answers should be written down. the examiner should, however, record his own judgment as to whether the child has passed or failed _at once_, as there are various factors which tend to make an immediate judgment both more certain and more accurate than a delayed one. so far as the actual testing is concerned, the examiner should confine himself to the words given in the text. he will find himself tempted sometimes "to draw the child out." for instance, in the picture test, when the child has given him a brief enumeration of objects and then stopped, he will find himself saying, "but what is this man doing?" the child can probably tell; but he must not on this account be accorded a pass on the descriptive level; he has already shown that his level is that of simple enumeration. some of the tests (definitions, comparisons, suggestion) bring out a tendency to automatism which is present in many children. thus, a child having replied correctly that a butterfly is bigger than a fly, may go on to state that wood is bigger than glass, and paper than cardboard; or having found that "it is a fork" is well received as a definition of that implement, he may give similar replies to the other queries in the definition test. this automatism should not be checked: it should be recorded. the more intelligent children begin to exhibit a certain dissatisfaction with their own answers, however readily they are accepted. it is not always easy to follow the working of the childish mind, and it is not usually advisable to press for further explanation. such a course is apt to puzzle the child, and render the conditions less favourable. if you are not certain that he should be allowed to pass, you may be practically certain that he should not. sometimes one gets interesting glimpses into the subject's mentality. a little boy once told me he had never seen a butterfly. nevertheless, i asked the comparison question, and he gave what is a very usual answer: "a butterfly is bigger than a fly." "how do you know," i said, "if you have never seen a butterfly?" "it's a bigger word," he replied. another time a little girl, who also declared she had never seen a butterfly, gave another answer which is also very common: "a butterfly is yellow, and a fly is black." the source of this knowledge was not discovered; but one of my students told me later that a child whom she questioned about a butterfly said: "i have seen one; it was blue, but it _ought_ to have been yellow." on being asked why, she responded: "butter is yellow." the test, of course, is not for the knowledge of the things, but for the power of making a comparison. occasionally one has to mark a child as doubtful. thus, in defining abstract terms (xii. ) binet records that out of forty-five nine-year-old children, four passed, thirty-six failed, and five were doubtful. this test, however, gives an unusually large percentage of doubtfuls. =method of marking.=--the examiner should have a large sheet of paper or a note-book with the names of the tests written in column at the left-hand side. opposite each in a second column he should enter a sign indicating his judgment. binet recommends the use of the following signs: + ! excellent, + pass, + ? almost a pass, ? doubtful, silence,-- ? almost a failure, -- a failure, -- ! a bad failure. later this record should be supplemented from the notes taken by the secretary, also by information regarding the child's personal history, and by comments on his behaviour during the examination. the mental age assigned to him is determined in this way: one finds the age-level at which he passes all the tests, and adds a year for every five tests that he passes above that level. thus, if a child of seven passes all the tests for seven years, three of those for eight, and two of those for nine, he has a mental age of eight years. binet allows the use of fractions, one-fifth of a year for every test passed, but he admits that this gives an appearance of a degree of exactitude which is probably not attained. should a child's mental age show a retardation of three years as compared with his chronological age, and should there be no evident explanation of this, such as ill-health, neglect of school attendance, etc., he is reckoned as deficient mentally. binet's scale has been criticised from various points of view. generally speaking, it seems to be found too easy at the lower end and too difficult at the higher end. it seems certain that some of the tests have not yet found their proper level, or, indeed, that the proper level may vary from country to country, from school to school, and from one social rank to another. thus, the writer has found that practically all the five-year-old children present in a certain school during the past two or three years are able to pass the colour test assigned by binet to seven years of age. these children, however, probably belong to a higher social class than the five-year-olds tested by binet. an examiner very quickly learns which of the tests beyond his age it is advisable to put to the particular child he is dealing with, and owing to the method of marking it does not matter much if one or two tests are misplaced with reference to a particular group of children. the important thing is that there is a general consensus of opinion on the part of those who have tried the scale as to its value as a mental probe and register of mental attainment. revisions and elaborations of it have already been published,[b] but in view of its simplicity and brevity, and the valuable analytical work of which it has proved itself capable, the form will probably remain a standard for at least some years to come. for the complete series of tests the examiner will require the following material in addition to the diagrams: three suitable pictures. key, penny, knife. iv. . weights. v. and x. . drawing of square. v. . drawing of diamond. vi. . rectangular card and divided rectangle. v. and adult, . colours. vii. . cards with mixed sentences. xii. . square of paper. adult, . footnotes: [a] the directions for this test, given in , are to arrange the two triangles so that the _hypotenuses are as far distant as possible from one another_. in the article the directions are as above. it seems to the writer that both directions are ambiguous. in certain experiments in which she followed the directions she placed the triangles thus [illustration: oblique triangle point up, oblique triangle point down], so that the children had to lift one across the other to effect a solution. a very small percentage of five-year-old children succeeded. if the triangles are placed thus [illustration: oblique triangle point up, oblique triangle long side down] the task would probably be easier. [b] see _journal of educational psychology_, : "a tentative revision and extension of the binet-simon measuring scale of intelligence," by terman and child. for an excellent brief review of the experimental work which has been done with the tests, see the same volume, pp. - . the scale, with detailed instructions for the application of each test, appeared in the _bulletin de la société libre pour l'Étude psychologique de l'enfant_, nos. and , april, . this article has been translated by clara harrison town (_chicago medical press_). see also meumann, _vorlesungen z. einführung in die experimentelle pädagogik_, leipzig, . diagrams for the picture tests binet used the following: fig. . man and boy pulling a barrow with furniture. fig. . a poor old man and a young woman sitting on a seat outside on a wintry day. fig. . a prisoner standing on his bed to look out of the window of his cell. the student should choose pictures which contain familiar figures and objects, and which "tell a story" capable of sympathetic interpretation. they should not be too childish. the following pictures, all in the tate gallery, may be suggested: the doctor, by luke fildes. the blind beggar, by j.l. dyckmans. the wedding, by stanhope a. forbes. a hopeless dawn, by frank bramley. the man with the scythe, by h.h. la thangue. mark the pictures chosen figs. , , and . [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. .] [illustration: fig. .] index abnormal children, abnormality, frontiers of, adenoids, alcohol, appendix, aptitudes, _et seq._ arithmetic, asylum cases, attendance, irregular, bicêtre, , bromides, cretin, curriculum, , , , definitions: _abnormal_, _defective_, _feeble-minded_, _idiot_, _ill-balanced_, _imbecile_, distribution of defectives, , doctor, rôle of, _et seq._ dunces, employment, , , epilepsy, , examination: _pedagogical_, , _physical_, _psychological_, feeble-minded, frontiers of abnormality, heredity, , hospital cases, hydrocephalus, hydrotherapy, hysteria, ill-balanced, , , , , , inspector, rôle of, _et seq._ instruction: _scale of_, _tests of_, intelligence, tests of, , , app. knowledge percentage, laboratory of pedagogy, , medical examination, (chap. iv.) medical schedule, mental deficiency, _v._ definitions microcephalus, microgyria, mongol, moral deficiency, _v._ ill-balanced pedagogical examination, , physical examination, physiognomy, picture tests, psychological examination, utility of, psychology of defective, of ill-balanced, reading, retardation, , salpêtrière, , scale of instruction, schedules: _instruction_, _medical_, _suspected mental deficiency_, school, special, _educational value_, , _social value_, , spelling, statistics, stigmata, teacher, rôle of, _et seq._ tests: _instruction_, _intelligence_, , , _marking of_, _material for_, _method of conducting_, unstable, _v._ ill-balanced. printed in great britain by billing and sons, ltd., guildford and esher * * * * * +-----------------------------------------------------------+ | typographical errors corrected in text: | | | | page : comparsion replaced with comparison | | | | the following words are correct: | | page : superposable | | | +-----------------------------------------------------------+ * * * * * the character of the jew books being, a defence of the natural innocence of man, against kings and priests or tyrants and impostors by philanthropos london: printed and published by r. carlile, , fleet street. . price twopence. the character of the jew books justice is due to all men; it is a gem that sheds a brilliant radiance upon the tyrant and the slave, upon the rich and the poor; justice is in the moral world what the sun is in the physical, one illuminates the intellectual, the other the terrestrial system. by the standard of justice measure the rulers of the earth; try their actions, calculate their characters, weigh their governments in the balance of justice; when analyzed by this test and found unalloyed, grant unmeasured praise; if deficient, if tyranny, villainy, bigotry and cruelty preponderate, condemn them, and consign them to the execration of all mankind. notwithstanding the exertions of philosophy, and the undaunted perseverance of _a few men_, barbarity, cupidity and bigotry, generally prevail; the numerous devotees, the thronged congregation of rogues, slaves, and fools at the shrine of avarice, too frequently paralyze the efforts of liberal men; mean, pitiful, despicable traffic, has introduced mercantile ideas, and consequently _this nation of hucksters estimates merit in money_. the rich assume to be privileged, and unceasingly condemn and revile the industrious poor, as being vicious, immeasurably criminal, and abandoned to every moral offence: regardless of themselves, their families, their society, and their souls; let us enquire if those charges are just, if the poor are degenerated, if they have abandoned themselves to contempt, to degradation, to confinement, and to death; _let us endeavour to ascertain if the laws of nature are changed, let its endeavour to ascertain if the precepts of reason are revoked, let us endeavour to ascertain if death is preferred to life_. the poor are the most numerous, the most industrious, and the most useful part of society; should this portion, this staple part, this lever of the nation be so deserving of contempt, of execration, and of condemnation, as some puny-minded, rickety-headed fools would have us believe, much might be feared for the continued indissolubility of the nation; such as have monopolized the labour of the poor, and enjoy the rank of the privileged rich, incessantly insist that severe laws, vindictive tortures, and daily sanguinary executions would insure tranquility endangered, preserve religion scoffed, suppress blasphemy encouraged, strengthen monarchies loathed, despised, scorned, hated and execrated. the passions of distrust, revenge, fear, hatred, malice and cruelty distract the rich, that thrive by treachery, hypocrisy, tyranny and rapacity; conscious of turpitude, stung by remorse, alarmed for the safety of ill-gotten gains, the robbers and impostors are afraid the people will claim a restitution of rights and property. in investigating the origin of crime perhaps it will appear that the robbery and hypocrisy of king, and priests, and peers, have been the exciting cause, the immoderate agents, the operative principle, that called into action the criminal intention imputed to the poor; if such is proved, could any thing be more cruel, more shocking, more outrageous of common decency, than for the rich and privileged robbers, usurpers and impostors, to accuse the people of crimes they have been parties to, that they have promoted by rapine, encouraged by example; crimes that they may in effect have committed, for kings and peers and priests unblushingly practise trades of fraud, imposition, and rapine, their titles admit their separation from men; experience proves they have inclination and capacity for any degree of villainy, the worst, the vilest, and the most detestable of men can invent; no disgrace can move, no contempt can stagger, no scorn can lower such as pollute the sanctuaries of the church and throne, as certain places are called. survey man from his origin, from his birth, from his infancy, he enters the word without reflection, without will, without ideas; his mind can be formed, it can be moulded, it can be directed at pleasure; his ideas, his expressions, his actions, his life, are the result of his, education; his infancy, adolescence, his manhood, and his old age, are the consequence of his instruction; without internal or innate idea, without any indigenous or spontaneous mind he was nothing but from without: he has no ideas, no conceptions, but such as result from external impressions; if deficient organization has deprived him of sight, he knows nothing of colours; of hearing, nothing of sounds; of both, he is an idiot. if a male child is shut up in a dungeon and fed through a chink, from twelve months old, he would know nothing beyond his cell, nothing further than its walls; he would know nothing of kings, or priests, or peers, or prayers, or tithes, or taxes, or blasphemy; he would know nothing beyond softness and hardness, roughness and smoothness, heat and cold; he would know nothing beyond experience, nothing but by examination, and could have no conception of any thing beyond his hearing, seeing, touching, tasting and smelling; he would only have conception of such things as would be produced by a combination of his few ideas; even the man in the world without information knows nothing about the superstition of mahomet, of zoroaster, of brahma, and an _old jew_; the child in the dungeon would know nothing of the cruelty of _jew moses_, the licentious ferocity of david, or the amiable gallantry of solomon; he would know nothing about the incest, the polygamy and murder of the jew fellows, he would knew nothing beyond simple sensations; let the experiment be continued, let the subject be placed in another situation, let him be taken at ten years of age from his dungeon and placed in a disused cell unfrequented by any person but his keeper, his instructor, his director, a monk and a eunuch; let his keeper be directed to teach him nothing but the _jew books_, let all his information, let all his ideas, let all his impressions be from those famous books of law, of morality, and of religion; he will be taught that incest, adultery, fornication, hypocrisy, drunkenness, perjury, indecent exposure of women, rapine, and assassinations, are acts of religion, inculcated, enforced, patronized and practised, by jew kings and jew prophets, the chosen people of god; the subject could think of nothing but what resulted from his education, nothing but what was consistent with his theory; he could not speak of colours never seen, describe the people never known, prefer nations never heard of. arrived under those exclusive impressions at puberty, sexual organization would be developed, a new ardour, a new stimulus, a new inclination would act. his mind would be filled with assassinations, with butcheries, with seductions and with debaucheries; now prepared, now surcharged with religious precepts, let him enter the world; his mind, his impressions, his actions would be formed upon the most sacred models, such as moses, david and solomon; he would be religiously prepossessed in favour of fraud, perjury, hypocrisy, incest, lust, perfidy and homicide; impressed with experience, impregnated with religion, with jew morality and sacred gibberish, he would act according to his experience, to his education, to his religion, and to his god; now set at liberty, impelled by his passions, irritated by opposition to his lust, his avarice, or his petulancy, he would, acting consistently and religiously, commit a rape, a robbery, or a murder, and offend against _human laws or the laws of reason_, and not those of religion; it would avail nothing even among kings, priests and peers, to plead the injunctions, the precepts, the examples, and the dignity of moses, of abraham, of lot, of isaac, of david, or of solomon; suppose he is under sentence of death, who brought him into that situation? is he to blame, is he the architect of his case, is he the cause of his fate, is he the author of his misfortunes, is human nature to be blotted by such affairs, is he to be censured, execrated, and despised? oh no! he is the victim of iniquity, the martyr of wrong impressions, of wrong education and of bigotry, he acted according to his education, to his religion and to his experience; instruction in falsehood, in error, and in injustice has been the cause, and the blame could only be annexed to the authors of fallacious principles, interested bigots, and venal hypocrites. any one instructed to follow practically the horrid dogmas set forth in the _jew books_ would soon reach the gallows, would be soon covered with crimes, would be soon consigned to infamy, and the dignity of human nature would be traduced, would be vilified, would be denounced by every silly fool, every fanatical quack, every ignorant pretender to legislation, and every arch-hypocrite would call aloud for vengeance upon the seduced. man knows nothing of his infancy, he knows nothing but what he is taught, of the combination of ideas he has imbibed, consequently such as teach are answerable for the crimes, when the principles of education are false, and such are kings, priests and legislators. impostors unnecessarily make, religion an important feature in men's education, the people are obliged to hear, to read, told to reflect upon some ignorant, illiterate, confused, and cabalistical _jew books_*, as these books contain false, cruel; lying, bloody and obscene stories, and hold up, as religious and moral, most indecent examples of lechery and murder, so they are very improper, very dangerous books to put into the hands of the uneducated and of children. the _jew books_ will debauch the wife, seduce the maid, brutalize and mislead the son; the beastly maxims they inculcate, have been protected by the superstitious ignorance, and unreflecting barbarity of former venal bigoted parliaments, whose ignorance would now disgrace the awl, or the spade; the intelligence of the age, however deficient, scorns the gothic superstition of our forefathers; the hypocrites endeavour to enforce the jargon by the perversion of law, by the halter, by the torch, and by the sword; the intellectual dwarfs are laughed at when they call for everlasting wrath, and vow eternal perdition; anathemas, eliminations, and maledictions are ridiculed, as well as the rogue or fool that raves in the pulpit for his bread; where reason has not spread her rubies, false doctrines are dangerous; impressed upon vacant minds with such terrific emphasis and sordid assiduity, the youth and unsuspecting are corrupted; false doctrines are instilled into vacant minds, which are the precursors of crime. _eclat_ is given to the cruelties, of moses, the lewd butcheries of david, and the amours of solomon; the jew books say, "god approves such acts," and such heroes are said to be men after god's own heart: the statutes, blasphemously of course, proscribe such royal adventures. either the statutes, are irreverend and impious, or the jew book is irreverend; law, religion, reason, and the bible are the opposites of each other, so that the supporters of what is now called law, are the destroyers of the jew books; the destroyers of the jew books are statute lawyers, or blasphemers, as reasoners are termed in ant phraseology. rare inconsistency! * sometimes called bibles and testaments. man is the creature of the instruction received; intellectual impressions form his motives of action, he is necessitated to direct his life according to those impressions; the mind is moulded like clay by the potter, carved like marble by the sculptor; as the jew books contain the religion and morals of children, and as they are cruel, wicked, and vindictive, so children have criminal propensities excited by their existence; first impressions are adulterated, early habits are poisoned, and future life impregnated with villainy. so far from criminality being occasioned by neglect of bible reading, as the ignorant, sordid hypocrite pretends, if it was more read, and education less mixed, men would be more debased, more perfidious, and more sanguinary. it is a matter of fact, it is known by experience, that since bible societies have been instituted, and bible circulation widened, crimes have increased; the people have been more cruel, more brutal, more sanguinary, and more vindictive; the human mind has been poisoned, all the feelings of philanthropy have been blighted; if such gibberish should extend, the intelligence of the human mind will retrograde, and its element, a reign of gothic ignorance predominate, omit the bible part of education, and there will be fewer prostitutes, fewer debauchees, fewer perjurers, fewer tyrants, and fewer murderers; it is this part of education that pollutes and contaminates the essence of charity, and mildews all the flowers of intellectual cultivation; this is the source of the present barbarous schemes of government, idolized by rogues, and allowed by fools; the jew books are the prolific origin of the cruelty, the treachery, the avarice, and bloody-mindedness of kings, peers and priests, and all the _coterie_ of impostors; they collect, they coalesce, they conspire to mislead, to dupe, to rule, to rob and degrade an unsuspecting and innocent people; a spontaneous course, a common object, a fellow feeling, bind together the plunderers and oppressors of mankind. if the people were instructed in morality, in justice, and in equity, they would see the robbery, the oppression, the intolerance, and villainy of kings, priests and peers; if intelligence lead the people to see injustice, a spontaneous breath would remove it, and regal and sacked impostors cease to oppress; morality and justice should be the fundamental principles of education, then would men annihilate the baneful despotisms of kings, and priests; they would no longer support, no longer vindicate, no longer permit to exist, the canting slothful hypocrisy of voracious privileged impostors; such villains devour the produce of other men's toil, laugh at what themselves profess, without care, except to propagate and to continue, the simplicity, the ignorance, credulity and superstition, of a devoted, a plundered and inoffensive people; how can men listen to the precepts, or be persuaded by, the example of impostors, who spend their lives in licentiousness, in debauchery, in fornication, in drunkenness, and in sacred swindling? if men follow the example of impostors, abounding in nothing but infamy, they cease to have claims as citizens upon society, they forfeit every claim to credit, to justice, and the laws; they are the pests, the terror, and the disgrace of each other. the impostors demand the people to pay attention to the jew books, because the jew books recommend tribute and tithes; this code of the hypocrites is calculated to advance the intolerance of despots, and rapacity of priests; if the people followed some scripture examples, and adopted as perfection the models preached up by the priests, they would be daily conspiring against kings or tyrants, slaying their brothers, sleeping with their fathers' wives, debauching their sisters and daughters? in short, there would, be nothing but adultery, licentiousness, perjury, conspiracy, cruelty, perfidy, and murder; all those crimes would be the consequence of adhesion to the jew books; yet if the people do act like jew-book heroes, if they do commit any one crime, if either avarice or delusion excite to violence, they are accused of not having the fear of god before their eyes, of not having attended to the _tithe-catching_ advice of priests, and their books; but of being actuated by irreligious, profane, blasphemous, and diabolical motives; the dogmas of priests and the laws constantly dash, and while reason suffers the _tithe-eating corporation_ to exist, legislation must be necessarily imperfect; it is impossible for the people to follow the law and the bible; notwithstanding the suspicion of the priests, the laws will act in contradiction to the bible. men are the creatures of education, they act consistently with what they are taught; impostors and fools promulgating false principles are amenable to reason, and they should be to laws made by the whole of the people; men are criminal in consequence of a fallacious education adopted by regal and religious impostors, with a view of reaping other meu's harvests; the object is firstly, to debase, to enslave, to degrade the mind, and secondly, to plunder the victim; such scoundrels constantly preach up the deficiency of human nature, that more authority may be granted to those earthly saviours; a nation governed by kings and priests must be always in a state, of barbarism, of shameful indifference, and of crime; such nations are inhabited by an inferior race of men, when it may be presumed only a few scintillations of philosophy have reached; states governed by kings and priests show the sun of reason is still below the horizon; if human nature is criminal in appearance, it is not so in fact, such cases are confounded with the errors of educators, which are instilled into man from the moment of his birth; if he is ever revengeful, vindictive, and sanguinary, attribute it to the licensed villains that blot the face, of the earth; reflect upon this you pampered; you bloated impostors, who riot upon the poor man's industry; you hypocrites, who carouse upon the sweat of his brow, and who sack the spoil of the criminal your rapacity has created; _tyrants and impostors! remember you are splendid at the expence of honesty, pain, disease and death_; give the people justice, and they will be laborious; if they are laborious, they must have plenty; and if they have plenty, they will be honest; men are naturally innocent, passive and pacific; false information and injustice are the sources of violence and crime; remember this, you corporate impostors and tyrants, and correct your own errors before you brand the innocent with infamy. cast the beams out of your own eyes before you shed your acrimonious calumny upon the virtuous and the just. bulletin no. home economics series no. the teaching of art related to the home suggestions for content and method in related art instruction in the vocational program in home economics june, issued by the federal board for vocational education--washington, d. c. the teaching of art related to the home suggestions for content and method in related art instruction in the vocational program in home economics june, [illustration] united states government printing office washington: for sale by the superintendent of documents, washington, d. c. price cents federal board for vocational education members william n. doak, _chairman_ _secretary of labor_ robert p. lamont, _secretary of commerce_. arthur m. hyde, _secretary of agriculture_. wm. john cooper, _commissioner of education_. edward t. franks, _vice chairman_, _manufacture and commerce_. perry w. reeves, _labor_. claude m. henry, _agriculture_. john s. shaw, _secretary and chief clerk_ executive staff j. c. wright, _director_ charles r. allen, _educational consultant_ john cummings, _chief, statistical and research service_ vocational education division c. h. lane, _chief_, _agricultural education service_. adelaide s. baylor, _chief_, _home economics education service_. frank cushman, _chief_, _trade and industrial education service_. earl w. barnhart, _chief_, _commercial education service_. vocational rehabilitation division john aubel kratz, _chief_, _vocational rehabilitation service_ contents page foreword vii section i. introduction section ii. purpose of the bulletin section iii. determining content for a course in art related to the home place of art in the vocational program in home economics objectives for the teaching of art essential art content home situations for which art is needed section iv. suggestive teaching methods in art related to the home creating interest discussion of method in the teaching of art suggested procedure for developing an ability to use a principle of proportion for attaining beauty suggested plan for the development of an understanding of the principle of proportion and its use details of lesson procedure series of suggested problems to test pupils' ability to recognize and use the principle of proportion just developed further suggestions for problems, illustrative materials, and assignments class projects notebooks the place of laboratory problems field trips measuring results evidences of the successful functioning of art in the classroom evidences of the successful functioning of art in the home home projects suggestive home projects in which art is an important factor section v. additional units in art related specifically to house furnishing and clothing selection section vi. illustrative material purpose selection and sources use care and storage section vii. reference material use of reference material sources of reference material bibliography index figures page . an arrangement of wild flowers and grasses and a few books placed on a blotter on a typewriter table in front of an inexpensive india print may furnish a colorful spot in any schoolroom. note the effective use of the screen in concealing a filing case . a bulletin board on which it is necessary to use a variety of materials adds to the appearance of the room when these materials are well arranged and frequently changed . pupils in a nebraska high school try out different flowers and arrangements . in a nebraska high school a screen was used in an unattractive corner as a background for an appreciation center . the simplest school furnishings can be combined attractively. a low bookcase, a bowl of bittersweet, and a passe partout picture as here used are available in most schools . a few pieces of unrelated illustrative material may be grouped successfully in bulletin-board space . sprouted sweetpotato produced this attractive centerpiece for the home table . glass-paneled doors open from the dining room directly into a main first-floor corridor in the high school at stromsburg, nebr. . the dresser as found in the dormitory room . the same dresser after the class in related art had remodeled and painted it charts . suggestions for use of this bulletin by teachers . analysis of the value of notebooks in art courses . types and sources of illustrative materials publications of the federal board for vocational education relating to home-economics education foreword since the organization of the vocational program in the teaching of art in its relation to the home has been recognized as an essential part of the home-economics program. great difficulties have been experienced in securing adequate instruction in this field. many schools, especially in the rural communities, employ no art teachers. in such schools the only art instruction is that given by the regular home-economics teacher, and is commonly reduced to a minimum of applicable content. the teaching of art has dealt too exclusively with the creation of artistic things, and it is not easy to change the emphasis over into the field of appreciation and discriminating selection. clothing, home planning and furnishing, care of the sick, serving of foods, care of children, and family relationships, all have an "art" side. the successful discharge of household responsibilities is conditioned largely upon a perception of this truth. there has been a dearth of teachers prepared to teach art in its application to homemaking. in the last decade, however, several of the institutions approved for training vocational teachers of home economics have introduced courses in this field, and the number of such institutions is increasing. this bulletin was prepared under the direction of adelaide s. baylor, chief of the home economics education service, by florence fallgatter, federal agent for home economics in the central region, assisted by elsie wilson, a member of the home economics teacher-training staff of iowa state college. the federal board for vocational education and home economics education service appreciate the cooperation of state supervisors, members of teacher-training staffs, vocational teachers, and art teachers both in the schools and colleges, and their contributions of material for this study. it has been undertaken to meet a demand expressed very generally during the last years by teaching staffs for assistance in adapting art instruction specifically to homemaking, to the end that all instruction for homemaking may be made more effective. j. c. wright, _director_. the teaching of art related to the home section i introduction all art is life made more living, more vital than the average man lives it--hence its power. taste, unlike genius can be acquired; and its acquisition enriches personality perhaps more than any other quality.--e. drew. professor whitford[ ] bases his book, an introduction to art, on two hypotheses: "( ) that art is an essential factor in twentieth century civilization and that it plays an important and vital part in the everyday life of people; ( ) that the public school presents the best opportunity for conveying the beneficial influence of art to the individuals, the homes, and the environment of the people." in keeping with this present-day philosophy, the introduction of art instruction into the public schools is increasing. through the influence of home economics, a field of education in which there is an urgent need and wide opportunity for practical application of the fundamental principles of art, art instruction is finding its way into many of the small schools as a definite part of the vocational programs. whitford[ ] refers to this present-day trend in home economics as follows: at first there was very little articulation between the courses in art and the courses in industrial art or household art. at the present time we realize that these courses are all related, and all work together through correlation and interrelation to supply the child with those worth while educational values which aid in meeting social, vocational, and leisure-time needs of life. not until all girls in the public schools can have their inherent love for beauty rightly stimulated and directed may we look forward to a nation of homes tastily furnished and artistically satisfying or of people who express real genuineness and sincerity in their living. with the inception of the vocational program in home making through the passage of the smith-hughes act by congress in , art was recognized as one of the essential related subjects. thus, in the majority of the schools that have organized vocational homemaking programs, art has been included as a part of these programs and an effort has been made to apply the principles of art to those problems in everyday life in which beauty and utility are factors. the aim has been to develop in girls not only an understanding of these principles but also an ability to use them intelligently in solving many of their daily problems. therefore the teaching of art in home economics courses is primarily concerned with problems of selection and arrangement. the girl as a prospective home maker needs to know not so much how to make a pattern but how to choose one well; not how to make a textile print but how to select and use it; not how to design furniture but how to select and arrange it; not how to make pottery but how to select the right vase or bowl for flowers. at the same time, teachers of related art in vocational schools have endeavored to show that true art is founded upon comfort, utility, convenience, and true expression of personalities as well as upon the most perfect application of art principles. considerable emphasis has been given, therefore, to a consideration and utilization of those material things that afford opportunity for self-expression. the importance of such self-expression is stressed in the following words by clark b. kelsey:[ ] the home expresses the personalities of its occupants and reveals far more than many realize. it stamps them as possessing taste or lacking it. thinking men and women want backgrounds that interpret them to their friends, and they prefer that the interpretation be worthy. they also want them correct for their own personal satisfaction. in art courses that are related to the home, an attempt is made to build up in girls ideals of finding and creating beauty in their surroundings and to bring them to the point where they can recognize fitness and purpose and see beauty and derive pleasure from inexpensive and unadorned things that are available to all homes. mr. cyrus w. knouff[ ] has well expressed something of the importance of such a practical type of art training as follows: show the people through their children that one may dress better on fifty dollars, understanding art principles, than on five hundred dollars not understanding symmetry, design, color, harmony, and proportion. with this knowledge you furnish a lovelier home on five hundred dollars than on five thousand without it. get your art away from the studio into life. teach your children the gospel of beauty and good taste in their letter writing, their picture hangings, their clothes, everything they do. since the vocational program also provides class instruction for women who have entered upon the pursuit of home making, as well as for girls of school age, there has been some opportunity to extend art training to these women through adult classes. an attempt has been made in classes in art related to the home, home furnishing, and in clothing classes to give a training which will help them to better appreciate the influence upon family life of attractive and comfortable homes, of careful selection and arrangement of home furnishings, and of intelligent purchasing and selection of clothing. for the girls who have dropped out of school and have entered upon employment, part-time classes have been organized under the vocational program. to these the girls may come for a definite period each week to secure such instruction as will further extend their general education, better prepare them for their present work, and also improve their home life. to the extent that the employed girl improves her personal appearance, makes her living quarters more attractive, and enjoys the finer things of life she is more valuable to her employer and is an asset to society. much has been accomplished in this direction but there is a large opportunity in most of the states for more definite attention to such needs of the employed girl. section ii purpose of the bulletin the aim of related art education is to develop appreciation and character through attempting to surround one's self with things that are honest and consistent as well as beautiful.--goldstein. the vocational programs in homemaking are designed for girls over years of age in the full-time day schools, many of whom do not complete high school or do not have opportunity for more than a high-school education; for those young girls, to years of age, who having dropped out of full-time school can attend the part-time schools; and for women who are in position to attend adult homemaking classes. the provision of time in the programs for related subjects as well as for home-economics subjects covered in these three types of schools has made it possible to develop the principles of art and science as more than abstract theories. in this way these principles become fundamental to the most successful solving of many of the problems in home economics. the fact that these principles may be applied repeatedly in many different home-life situations means in turn a very much better understanding and subsequent use of them. through the comparatively few years in which these vocational programs have been in operation, teachers in all states have attempted with some success to give an art training that is both practical and vital to young girls and women. they have, however, been confronted with many baffling problems. some of these have been considered by committees on related subjects and an urgent request was made by one of these committees that a more detailed discussion of these problems be published. it is the purpose of the bulletin to point out some of the most significant problems in connection with art courses that are related to the work in homemaking and to present the pooled thinking of various groups upon them to the end that girls and women may know how to make their homes attractive even with limited incomes and how to choose and wear clothing effectively and becomingly. some of the questions to be answered in an attempt to solve these problems are: . what should be the place of art in the homemaking program? . what are pupils' greatest art needs? . what classroom training will help meet these needs? . what are the best methods to use in teaching art? . to what extent will laboratory problems function in meeting pupils' needs? . what results should be expected from art training in the homemaking program? . how can these results be measured? in vocational programs the courses or units in art related to the home are taught by both art teachers and home-economics teachers. in the larger schools they are frequently assigned to the regular art teacher, provided she has had sufficient contact and experience in homemaking to give her the necessary background for making the fundamental applications. in this case she follows very closely the work in the homemaking classes and makes use of every opportunity for correlation of her art work with the home. in the smaller schools in which the vocational programs are organized there is usually no special art teacher and therefore the home-economics teacher must give all of the art work. in most states training in art is included among the qualifications for vocational home-economics teachers. the teacher-training institutions are providing instruction in art and also special methods courses in the teaching of related art in public schools in order that their prospective teachers may be as well prepared as possible to handle the related art as well as the home-economics courses. this bulletin is intended as a help to teachers of related art courses, be they regular art teachers or home-economics teachers, to art instructors and teacher trainers in colleges, and to supervisors of home economics. the following tabulated suggestions indicate how it may be of service to these four groups: chart .--_suggestions for use of this bulletin by teachers_ --------------------+-------------------------------------------------------- groups | uses --------------------+-------------------------------------------------------- | i. art and home | . as a guide in determining objectives in related art. economics | . as a help in selecting content. teachers in | . as a means of determining method. vocational | . as suggestive of ways for evaluating results. schools. | . as suggestive in the selection and use of | illustrative materials. | . as a guide for reference material. | ii. art instructors | . as a means of becoming familiar with some of the in colleges. | typical problems which prospective teachers of | related art will meet. | . as a guide in selecting those phases of art for | college courses which will enable the prospective | teacher of art to solve many of her teaching | problems. iii. teacher | . as an index to the interests and needs of girls trainers. | in home-economics classes. | . as a means of determining the phases of art that | most nearly meet the needs of girls. | . as suggestive of methods for student teaching in | classes in art related to the home. | . as a basis for guiding student teachers in | collecting and preparing illustrative material. | . as a guide for reference material. | iv. home economics | . as a stimulus to promote more courses or units supervisors, | in art. state and | . as a stimulus to work for better programs in local. | related art. | . as a guide in developing art units with teachers | through individual, district, and state | conferences. | . as a basis for giving assistance to teachers on | art problems. --------------------+-------------------------------------------------------- while the major emphasis in the bulletin is directed toward the teaching of related art, mention should be made of the importance of environment as a potent factor in shaping ideals and developing appreciation of the beautiful. constant association with things of artistic quality and frequent opportunity for directed observation of good design and color should be provided for all home-economics students. the home-economics laboratory offers an opportunity for centers in which interesting and artistic groupings may be arranged. these tend to eliminate much of the formal school atmosphere and provide a more typical home environment. such centers in home-economics laboratories have been appropriately called appreciation centers. a laboratory with examples of the beautiful in line and color, such as well-arranged bowls of flowers, bulletin boards, wall hangings, or book corners, may prove an effective though silent teacher. it would be futile to attempt to make most school laboratories too much like homes, however. such attempts may give the appearance of being overdone. the light and cheerful room, with the required furnishings well arranged and one or more appreciation centers, is usually the more restful and attractive. from daily contact with this type of room girls unconsciously develop an appreciation of appropriateness and of orderliness and an ideal for reproducing interesting arrangements in their own homes. it is desirable to have the appreciation centers changed frequently, and to give pupils an opportunity to share in selecting and making the arrangements. [illustration: figure .--an arrangement of wild flowers and grasses and a few books placed on a blotter on a typewriter table in front of an inexpensive india print may furnish a colorful spot in any schoolroom. note the effective use of the screen in concealing a filing case] [illustration: figure .--a bulletin board on which it is necessary to use a variety of materials adds to the appearance of the room when these materials are well arranged and frequently changed] [illustration: figure .--pupils in a nebraska high school try out different flowers and arrangements] section iii determining content for a course in art related to the home taste develops gradually through the making of choices with reference to some ideal.--henry turner bailey. place of art in the vocational program in home economics in recent years, many schools carrying the vocational program in home economics have scheduled courses in related art five to seven periods each week for one semester and in some cases for an entire year. in other schools, the entire vocational half day has been devoted to home economics, art being introduced in short units or as a part of some unit in home economics where it seemed to meet particular needs. a unit of several weeks or a full semester of consecutive time devoted to the teaching of art as related to the home is generally considered more effective than to teach only certain art facts and principles as they are needed in the regular home economics units. since art is recognized as fundamental to the solving of so many homemaking problems, it seems desirable to provide for this training as early in the first year of the home-economics program as possible so that it may contribute to the instruction in the first unit in clothing and home furnishing. prior to selecting the pattern and material for a dress, the girl needs to understand certain principles of design and color which will enable her to choose wisely. if art training has not preceded this problem in the clothing course, or if there is no provision for art work to parallel the clothing instruction unit, it becomes necessary to introduce some art training at this point. a similar situation arises in connection with the other units involving selection and arrangement such as home furnishing or table service. if art is taught only to solve specific problems as they arise the pupil will not have an opportunity to apply it to other phases of home-economics instruction and will therefore fail to develop the ability to understand and use the principles of art effectively in solving her other problems. there is the further danger that the girl's interest in home economics will be destroyed by interrupting the home-making instruction to teach the art needed for each unit. for example, if the girl is planning to make a dress, her interest and efforts are centered on its production. if preliminary to starting the dress, time must be taken to establish standards for the selection of the pattern and materials, the process of making is prolonged and the girl's interest in the art lessons and in the later construction of the dress is only half-hearted. training which provides for many applications of the art principles as they are developed gives the girl an ability to use these principles in solving the problems which arise at other times in home-making units. it is preferable therefore to arrange the vocational program so that the art instruction parallels or precedes those units in homemaking in which there is particular need for art. however, if the program can not include the teaching of art as a consecutive unit paralleling or preceding certain units in homemaking, it will be far better for the home-economics teacher to include art training as it is needed in the homemaking work than to omit it or attempt to proceed without the basic fundamental information necessary for the successful solution of many problems in home economics. in such a plan, time and opportunity should be definitely provided later in the homemaking program to summarize and unify the art training that has been given at various times in order that it may function in the lives of the pupils to a larger extent than that of solving only the immediate problems for which it was introduced. such a summarization will make possible the application of the essential principles of art to a wide variety of situations and will mean not only a more thorough understanding of these principles but a more permanent ability to use them in achieving beauty and satisfaction in environment. there are then three possible plans for including art instruction in the vocational program in homemaking, namely: . by presenting the course in art related to the home as a separate semester or year course that parallels the homemaking course. when it is a semester course, it is well to offer art the first half of the year in order that it may be of greatest value to the first units in clothing. . by giving the course in art related to the home as a separate unit in the homemaking course. such an art unit should precede that homemaking unit in which there is greatest need as well as opportunity for many applications of the principles of art which are being developed. this will usually be the unit in clothing or home furnishing. . by giving short series of art lessons as needs arise in the homemaking course. certain dangers have been pointed out in this plan. if used, it should include a definite time for unifying and summarizing the art work at the end of the course. objectives for the teaching of art in the vocational program in which the teaching is specifically designed to train for homemaking, it is obvious that the major objective in the related art units should be to train for the consumption of art objects rather than for their production. bobbitt[ ] elaborates on this objective as follows: * * * the curriculum maker will discern that the men and women of the community dwell within the midst of innumerable art forms. our garments, articles of furniture, lamps, clocks, book covers, automobiles, the exterior and interior of our houses, even the billboards by the roadside are shaped and colored to comply in some degree, small or large, with the principles of aesthetic design. even the most utilitarian things are shaped and painted so as to please the eye. * * * it would seem then that individuals should be sensitive to and appreciative of the better forms of art in the things of their environment. as consumers they should be prepared to choose things of good design and reject those of poor design: and thus gradually create through their choices a world in which beauty prevails and ugliness is reduced to a minimum. this does not require skill in drawing or in other form of visual art. it calls rather for sensitiveness of appreciation and powers of judgment. * * * the major objectives must be the ability to choose and use those things which embody the higher and better art motives. education is to aim at power to judge the relative aesthetic qualities of different forms, designs, tones, and colors. skill in drawing and design does not find a place as one of the objectives. the type of furnishing and decorating products consumed in the home as well as the type of clothing purchased for the family depends upon the understanding and appreciation which the home makers have developed for good art qualities. this in turn is dependent upon training. as one writer points out[ ]-- * * * one's capacity richly to enjoy life is dependent upon one's capacity fully to understand and participate in the things which make up life interests. in art this is particularly true, for we can only enjoy and appreciate that which we are able to understand. through training we may be able to appreciate and understand art even though we can not produce art to any great extent. this we may think of as mental training. the content of an art training course may be defined in terms of objectives to be attained and these in turn should be determined through a careful consideration of the art needs of girls and women. in order to know these needs, the teacher must study the appearance, conditions, and practices in the homes of her pupils. through observation of the general appearance and clothing of the pupils and a knowledge of their interests and activities outside of school, she will obtain much valuable information, but, in addition, it is highly desirable that she visit their homes. this first-hand knowledge of the homes and community should be secured early in the school year and prior to the art unit or course if possible. the teacher should also be constantly alert to the many opportunities offered through community functions, local stores, and newspapers for becoming more familiar with particular needs and interests in her school community. in making contacts in the homes and community, it is essential that the teacher use utmost tact. few homes are ideal as they are, but something good can be found in all of them. the starting point should be with the good features and from there guidance should be given in making the best possible use of what is already possessed. _it would be far better for the girls to have no art work than to have the type of course that develops in them a hypercritical attitude or that creates an unhappiness or a sense of shame of their own homes. the aim of all art work is to develop appreciation, not a critical or destructive attitude._ through such a study of girls' needs and interests certain general objectives will be set up for units of courses in related art. through a well-planned program the majority of pupils in any situation may reasonably be expected to develop-- . a growing interest in the beauty to be found in nature and the material things of their environment. . enjoyment of good design and color found in their surroundings. . a desire to own and use things which have permanent artistic qualities. . an ability to choose things which are good in design and color and to use them effectively. out of these general objectives for all related art work, more specific objectives based on pupils' immediate needs and interests are essential. in terms of pupil accomplishment these objectives may be as follows:[ ] i. interest in-- . finding beauty in everyday surroundings. _a._ in nature. _b._ in man-made materials and objects. _c._ in art masterpieces. . making homes attractive as well as comfortable. ii. development of a desire for-- . beautiful though simple and inexpensive possessions. . skill in making artistic combinations and arrangements in home and clothing. iii. ability to-- . select and make balanced arrangements. . select articles and make arrangements in which the various proportions are pleasing. . select and use articles and materials which are pleasing because there is interesting repetition of line, shape, or color. . select and use articles and materials in which there is desirable rhythmic movement. . select and make arrangements in which there is desirable emphasis. . arrange articles in a given space so they are in harmony with the space and with each other. . select colors suited to definite use and combine them harmoniously. iv. appreciation of good design and color wherever found. these specific objectives probably cover those phases of art for which the average homemaker has the greatest need. in the limited amount of time that is available for the related art units in most vocational programs, the choice of what to teach must be confined to the most fundamental facts and principles of art only. the problems through which these are to be developed may be drawn for the most part from actual situations within the girls' own experiences. it should be remembered that the ulterior motive in all art training in the homemaking program is to give to girls that which will make it possible for them to achieve and to enjoy more beauty in their everyday lives. in the average class few, if any, girls will have that type of "creative ability" possessed by great artists, but all of the group may be expected to attain considerable ability in selecting, grouping, and arranging the articles and materials of a normal home and for personal use. this may rightfully be termed creative ability. for example, the girl who works out a successful color scheme through wise selections and uses of color in her room or in a costume is indeed a creator of beauty. essential art content a very careful selection of content for the course or unit in related art must be made. the vast amount of material in art from which to choose makes the problem the more difficult. an attempt to teach with any degree of success all of the content in art books and to give pupils an understanding of all of the art terms would be futile and would result in confusion. in the time available for art in the day vocational schools, as well as in the part-time and adult classes, the teacher is limited in her choice of content and must be guided by the objectives for the course that represent the girls' needs in their everyday problems of selection and arrangement. teachers are often baffled by the seeming multiplicity of terms. the federated council on art education has recently issued the report of its committee on terminology. the pertinent section dealing with indefinite nomenclature is here quoted:[ ] the subject of terminology in the field of art is extremely broad and for the most part indefinitely classified. over technical terms are in common use in the vocabulary of art. often words are used by different authors with entirely different meanings, and in other cases the degree of difference between words is too slight to warrant use of a separate term. also many of the terms are used interchangeably by different authors and frequently they are ambiguous and obscure in meaning and difficult to apply in public-school work. in general, the literature used as a basis for planning, organizing, and developing units of art instruction in the schools is very indefinite in regard to nomenclature. for this reason the committee on terminology centered the first part of its investigation upon a program of analysis to determine, if possible, the most significant words in common use. in the preparation of this bulletin, several art texts, reference books, and courses of study were examined for the purpose of determining the art terms that were most frequently used. on that basis, from these various sources the following were listed: balance. proportion. repetition. rhythm. emphasis. harmony. color. line. light and dark. unity. radiation. opposition. transition. subordination. center of interest. dominance. since the content for a course in related art should contribute very definitely to the girl's present and future individual and home needs it is suggested that only the minimum essential terminology be used, remembering that in such a course the chief concern is the development of those principles and facts that contribute to the realization of such objectives as have been suggested. there seems to be common agreement that balance, proportion, repetition, rhythm, emphasis, harmony, and color are of first importance in their contribution to beauty and that the various principles and facts concerning each should be developed in an art unit or course. the selection of these seven phases of art as fundamental is supported by goldstein,[ ] by russell and wilson,[ ] and by trilling and williams.[ ] the committee on art terminology has also given emphasis to these in the classification as set up in table v of their report. this is here given in full. _simplest form of classification_[ ] ----------------+--------------+--------------+------------+------------ basic | major | minor | resulting | supreme elements | principles | principles | attributes | attainment ----------------+--------------+--------------+------------+------------ | | | | line. | repetition. | alteration. | | form. | | sequence. | | | rhythm. | | harmony. | light } | | radiation. | | and } tone. | proportion. | parallelism. | | beauty. dark. } | | transition. | | | balance. | | fitness. | color. | | symmetry. | | texture. | emphasis. | contrast. | | | | | | ----------------+--------------+--------------+------------+------------ it will be noted that repetition, rhythm, proportion, balance, and emphasis are listed as major principles. it will also be noted that harmony is classified as a resulting attribute. this will be the inevitable result if the principles of the first five are well taught. arrangements which meet the standards of good proportion, which are well balanced and which are suited to the space in which they are arranged will be harmonious. although color is designated as a basic element of art structure in this table and the principles of design function in the effective use of it, there are some guides of procedure in the use of those qualities of color, such as hue, value, and intensity, which should be developed to insure a real ability to select colors and combine them harmoniously. line is also considered a basic element of art structure. since the problems in a course in art related to the home are largely those of selection, combination, and arrangement, the consideration of line may be confined to its effect as it provides pleasing proportions, is repeated in an interesting manner, or produces desirable rhythm. the omission of the remainder of the art terms that were found to be frequently used in art books and courses of study is not as arbitrary as it seems. through the consideration of the qualities of color it will be found that value includes the material often given under "light and dark" or "notan." referring again to the report of the committee on art terminology,[ ] "unity" is considered as a synonymous term for "harmony." since it is possible for an arrangement to be unified and still be lacking in harmony, the latter term is used in the bulletin as the more important and inclusive one. there is less obvious need for the principles of "radiation," "opposition," and "transition" in problems of selection and arrangement. the goldsteins refer to them as methods of arranging the basic elements of lines, forms, and colors in contributing to the principles of balance, proportion, rhythm, emphasis, and harmony. thus some reference to them may be made in the development of the principles of harmony and rhythm. emphasis has been chosen as an inclusive term which represents "subordination," "center of interest," and "dominance." it is hoped that these suggested phases of art to be included in a course or unit in art related to the home will not be considered too limited. each teacher of art should feel free to develop as many of the principles as are needed by her groups, remembering that it is far better to teach _a few principles well_ than to attempt more than can be done satisfactorily. in developing the principles of design certain guides for procedure or methods in achieving beauty will be formulated. for example, in considering balance, pupils will soon recognize that the feeling of rest or repose that is the result of balance is essential in any artistic or satisfying arrangement. their problem is how to attain it in the various arrangements for which they are responsible. thus guides for procedure or methods of attaining balance must be determined. such guides for obtaining balance may be-- . arranging like objects so they are equidistant from a center produces a feeling of rest or balance. . unlike objects may be balanced by placing the larger or more noticeable one nearer the center. it will be seen that these are also measuring sticks for the judging of results. it is evident that in a short course in art a teacher can not assist girls in all situations at home in which balance may be used. therefore it is essential that the pupils understand and use these guiding laws or rules for obtaining balance in a sufficient number of problems at school to gain independence in the application of them in other situations. some authorities[ ] term these methods for attaining results, guiding laws for procedure, or principles. home situations for which art is needed the common practice in art courses relating to the home has been to draw problems from the fields of clothing and home furnishing. this has been true for the obvious reason that an endeavor has been made to interest the girl in art through her personal problems of clothing and her own room. since in a vocational program the objective is to train for homemaking, it is essential that art contribute to the solving of all home problems in which color and good design are factors. in the selection and utilization of materials that have to do with child development, meal preparation and table service, home exterior as well as interior, and social and community relationships, application of the principles of art plays a large and important part. one of the teacher's great problems is that of determining pupil needs. although homes vary considerably in detail, there are many similar situations arising in all of them for which an understanding of the fundamental art principles is essential. it is important that the problems and situations utilized for developing and then applying again and again these fundamental principles shall be within the realm of each student's experience. the following series of topics may suggest some of the situations that are common to most homes and therefore be usable as the basis for problems in developing principles of art or for providing judgment and creative problems. in most of these topics, other factors such as cost, durability, and ease of handling will need to be considered in making final decisions, for art that is taught in relation to the home is not divorced from the practical aspects of it. _child development_-- choosing colored books and toys for children. choosing wall covering for a child's room. choosing pictures for a child's room. placing and hanging pictures in a child's room. selecting furniture for a child's room. determining types of decoration and desirable amounts of it for children's clothing. choosing colors for children's clothing. making harmonious combinations of colors for children's clothing. choosing designs and textures suitable for children's clothing. avoiding elaborate and fussy clothing for children. _meal planning and table service_-- using table appointments that are suitable backgrounds for the meal. choosing appropriate table appointments in-- linen. china. silver. glassware. using desirable types of flowers or plants for the dining table. making flower arrangements suitable in size for the dining table. selecting consistent substitutes for flowers on the table. choosing containers for flowers or plants. using candles on the table. deciding upon choice and height of candles and candlesticks in relation to the size and height of the centerpiece. determining when to use nut cups and place cards. choosing place cards and nut cups. arranging individual covers so that the table is balanced and harmonious. folding and placing napkins. considering color and texture of foods in planning menus. determining when and how to use suitable food garnishes. _home--exterior_-- developing and maintaining attractive surroundings for the house. choosing dormers, porches, and porch columns that are in scale with the house. grouping and placing the windows so they are harmonious with each other and with the house. planning suitable and effective trellises and arbors. recognizing limitations in the use of formal gardens and grounds. determining the use of the informal type of grounds. choosing house paint and considering how it may be influenced by neighboring houses. determining the influence of the color of the house on the choice of color for the porch furniture and accessories and for awnings. selecting and arranging porch furniture and accessories. selecting curtains for the windows of the house which are attractive from the exterior as well as from the interior. determining desirable shapes for trimmed hedges and shrubbery. selecting shrubbery and flowers that will contribute, at small cost, to the appearance of a home. planning the grounds of a home and the possible use of a bird bath, an artificial pool, or a rock garden. _home--interior_-- securing beauty rather than display. selecting textures that suggest good taste rather than merely a desire for display. choosing wall coverings that are attractive and suitable backgrounds for the home. selecting rugs for various rooms. selecting furniture that adds attractiveness, comfort, and convenience to the home. determining relation of beauty in furniture to the price of it. choosing window shades, curtains, and draperies from the standpoint of color, texture, design, and fashion. selecting appropriate accessories for the home. determining when to use pictures and wall hangings in the home. choosing pictures and wall hangings for the home. placing rugs, furniture, and accessories in the home. arranging and hanging pictures and wall hangings. determining the relation of type and arrangement of furnishings and accessories to the formality or informality of a room. avoiding formal treatment and shiny textures in the average home. planning how color may be used and distributed effectively in a room. determining how color schemes of rooms are affected by size, purpose, and location. discouraging the use of cloth, paper, and wax flowers and painted weeds in the home. _social and community relations_-- determining social and community activities with which high school girls are asked to assist and for which art training is needed. making attractive and suitable posters for special occasions. selecting and arranging flowers and potted plants for various occasions. planning, selecting, and using appropriate decorations for special events. wrapping gifts and packages attractively. choosing and using appropriate stationery, calling cards, place cards, and greeting cards. _clothing_-- determining appropriate clothing for all occasions. planning clothing that adds to rather than detracts from the charm of the wearer. planning to avoid garments and accessories that may be liabilities rather than assets. recognizing the relation of the "style of the moment" to the choice and combination of the clothing for the individual. choosing colors for the individual. utilizing bright colors in clothing. selecting harmonious color combinations in clothing. selecting and using textile designs in clothing. selecting and adapting style designs in patterns for the individual. improving undesirable body lines and proportions through the wise choice of clothing. selecting clothing accessories-- hats. shoes. hosiery. gloves. bags. jewelry. selecting and using appropriate jewelry and similar accessories with various ensembles. choosing texture, color and design for undergarments that make appropriate and attractive foundations for the outer garments. as yet no committee on related art has proceeded so far as to suggest specific content for art courses that are related to homemaking. since this bulletin deals with the teaching of art as it relates to homemaking, teaching content is presented only in so far as it exemplifies methods or procedures and relates to objectives. it is hoped, however, that teachers will find real guidance for selecting content that will meet the particular needs of their classes through, the detailed consideration of objectives, the selection of principles, and the many suggestions that are offered for art applications that can be made in all phases of homemaking. section iv suggestive teaching methods in art related to the home the test of a real product of learning is this: first, its permanency; and second, its habitual use in the ordinary activities of life.--morrison. creating interest there is a general conception that art is naturally interesting to everyone. accepting this as true, a specific interest must be developed from this natural interest for the most effective courses in art training. whitford[ ] says: little can be accomplished in general education, and practically nothing can be done in art education, unless interest and enthusiasm are awakened in the student. the awakening of interest constitutes one of the first steps in the development of a pupil's natural talents. some teachers, in attempting to awaken or to hold the interest of girls in related art courses, have started with art laboratory problems which involve considerable manipulation of materials. a certain type of interest may be so aroused, for pupils are always interested in the manipulative processes involved in producing articles and even more in the possession of the completed products, but it may be only a temporary appeal rather than an interest in the larger relation of art to everyday living. while it is true that manipulative problems do contribute to the development of greater confidence and initiative and therefore have their place in an art course, yet the successful completion of most products requires greater creative and judgment abilities than pupils will have acquired early in the course. it is then a questionable use of laboratory problems to depend upon them for awakening the specific interest in art. initial interest of students may be stimulated through directed observation of the many things about them which are good in color and design or by discussion of problems which are very pertinent to girls' art needs or desires.[ ] however, conscious effort on the part of the teacher is necessary to "open the windows of the world," if pupils are to develop real interest and experience such enjoyment from the beauty which surrounds them that an ideal of attaining beauty in dress and home is established. a definite plan is necessary for stimulating this interest which is said to be possessed by all. without an interest that will continue to grow from day to day it is difficult to develop the necessary judgment abilities for solving everyday problems in selection and arrangement. professor lancelot[ ] suggests the following procedure as the initial steps in the building of permanent interests: . early in the course endeavor through general class discussions, rather than by mere telling, to lead the students to see clearly just how the subject which they are taking up may be expected to prove useful to them in later life and how great its actual value to them will probably be. . at the same time attempt to establish clearly in their minds the relationships that exist between the new subject, taken as a whole, and any other branches of knowledge, or human activities, in which they are already interested. . specify and describe the new worthwhile powers and abilities which are to be acquired from the course, endeavoring to create in the students the strongest possible desire or "feeling of need" for them. if this procedure is followed, in the field of art the teacher will refrain from merely telling pupils that art will be of great value to them later in life. on the other hand, in creating interest it is suggested that class discussion of general topics within the range of pupil experience and of obvious need be used to awaken an interest in the value of art in their own lives. the teacher must be sure that the topics are of real interest to the pupils. for example, which of these questions would probably arouse the most animated discussion: "what is art?" or "arnold bennett says, 'the art of dressing ranks with that of painting. to dress well is an art and an extremely complicated and difficult art.' do you agree with arnold bennett? why?" other discussions may be started by asking questions such as the following: . have you ever heard some one say, "mary's new dress is lovely but the color is not becoming to her"? why do people ever choose unbecoming colors? would you like to be able to select colors becoming to you? how can you insure success for yourself? . movie corporations are spending great sums of money in an attempt to produce pictures in color. why do they feel justified in making such expenditures to introduce the single new quality of color? [illustration: figure .--in a nebraska high school a screen was used in an unattractive corner as a background for an appreciation center] . do you like this scarf? this cushion? this picture? why? why not? why is there some disagreement? to what extent can our likes guide our choices? . the class may be asked to choose from a number of vases, lamp shades, table covers, or candles those which they think are most beautiful. the question may then be asked, "would you like to find out what makes some articles more beautiful than others?" . where in nature are the brightest spots of color found? have you ever seen combinations of color in nature that were not pleasing? how may we make better use of nature's examples? . why do girls and women prefer to go to the store to select dresses or dress material? hats? coats? can one always be sure of the most becoming thing to buy even when shopping in person? what would be helpful in making selections? the classroom setting for the teaching of art plays a very important part in arousing interest. attempting to awaken interest in art in a bare, unattractive room is even more futile than trying to create interest in better table service with no table appointments. in the first situation there is probably such a wide variation in the background and experience of the pupils and in their present ability to observe the beautiful things of their surroundings that it becomes increasingly important that the teacher provide an environment which is attractive and inviting. in the second situation the pupils have had experience with the essential equipment in their own homes and so can visualize to some extent the use of that equipment at the table. bobbitt[ ] says-- one needs to have his consciousness saturated by living for years in the presence of art forms of good quality. the appreciations will grow up unconsciously and inevitably; and they will be normal and relatively unsophisticated. as a matter of fact, art to be most enjoyed and to be most serviceable, should not be too conscious. schoolrooms in which pupils spend a large part of their waking hours should provide for the building of appreciation in this way, and it is especially true in the homemaking room. some home economics teachers have cleverly planned for students to share in the responsibility of creating and maintaining an attractive classroom as a means of stimulating interest in art. it would be well for all home economics teachers to follow this practice. [illustration: figure .--the simplest school furnishings can be combined attractively. a low bookcase, a bowl of bittersweet, and a passe partout picture as here used are available in most schools] in many economics laboratories there are several possible improvements that would make better environment for art teaching. suggestions for such improvements include: . more color in the room through the use of flowers, colorful pottery, colored candles, and pictures, featuring arrangements that could be duplicated in the home. . more emphasis upon structural lines-- _a._ pictures that are grouped and hung correctly. _b._ attractive arrangement of a teacher's desk. _c._ arrangement of the furniture so that the groupings are well balanced and the wall spaces are nicely proportioned. _d._ good arrangement of materials on bulletin board. . more attention to orderliness-- _a._ when class is not working, orderliness in window-shade arrangement. _b._ elimination of unnecessary objects and furnishings to avoid cluttered appearance. _c._ tops of cases and cupboards or open shelves cleared. there are few seasons in the year when the teacher can not introduce interesting shapes and notes of color through products of nature. the fall brings the colored leaves and bright berries which last through the winter. bulbs may be started in late winter for early spring, and certain plants can be kept successfully throughout the year. with such interesting possibilities for using natural flowers, berries, and grasses, why would a teacher resort to the use of artificial flowers or painted grasses? morgan[ ] pertinently discusses the artificial versus the real: some say "what about painted weeds and grasses?" no; that is mockery. it doesn't seem fair to paint them with colors that were not theirs in life. one can almost fancy hearing the dead grasses crying out, "don't smear us up and then display us like mummies in a museum." remember, a true artist, one who truly loves beauty, despises imitation or deceit. there are several interesting possibilities for home table centerpieces to be used during the winter months when flowers are not available. grapefruit seeds or parsley planted in nice-shaped, low bowls grow to make attractive-shaped foliage for the table. a sweetpotato left half covered with water in a low bowl sprouted and made the graceful arrangement of pretty foliage pictured in figure , page . pupils are more apt to provide such plants in their homes if they see examples of the real centerpieces at school. it is, therefore, worth while for a teacher to direct a class in starting and caring for one or more types of them. in one state a definite effort is made in planning home-economics departments to have the dining room open directly into corridors through which most of the pupils of the entire school pass at some time during the day. see figure , page . [illustration: figure .--a few pieces of unrelated illustrative materials may be grouped successfully in bulletin-board space] this arrangement permits pupils to observe attractive as well as suitable arrangements of the dining room furnishings, and especially of the table. such a plan should be effective in establishing ideals of what is good and in raising standards in the homes of boys as well as of girls in the community. a further contributing essential to stimulating interest in art is a teacher who exemplifies in her appearance the art she is teaching. it is said that sometimes our most successful teaching is done at a time when the teacher is least conscious of it. the teacher of an art class who appears in an ensemble of clothing which is unsuited to the occasion and in which the various parts are not in harmony with each other from the standpoint of color, of texture, or of decoration loses sight of one of her finest opportunities for influencing art practices of pupils and developing good taste in them. [illustration: figure .--sprouted sweetpotato produced this attractive centerpiece for the home table] there is no more applicable situation for the old adage, "practice what you preach," than in the teaching of art. one teacher was conducting a discussion on the choice of bowls and vases for flowers as a part of flower arrangement while behind her on the desk was a bottle into which a bunch of flowers had been jammed. contrast this with the situation in which the teacher had worked out the arrangement of wild flowers and grasses as shown in figure . discussion of method in the teaching of art in discussing the best methods of teaching art, whitford[ ] says: as a practical subject art education calls for no exceptional treatment in regard to methods of instruction. the instruction should conform to those general educational principles that have been found to hold good in the teaching of other subjects. without such conformity the best results can not be hoped for. [illustration: figure .--glass-paneled doors open from the dining room directly into a main first-floor corridor in the high school at stromsburg, nebr.] it is anticipated that through the course in related art pupils will have gained an ability to choose more suitably those materials and articles of wearing apparel and of home furnishing which involve color and design. it is through understanding certain fundamental principles of art and using them that the everyday art problems can be more adequately solved. the teacher is confronted with the question as to how to develop most successfully this understanding and ability. shall she proceed from the stated principles to their application in solving problems or shall she start with the problems and so direct their solution that the important principles and generalizations are derived in the process. the present trend in education is toward the second procedure and in keeping with this trend, the elaboration of method in this section is confined to the so-called problem-solving method. when pupils have an opportunity to formulate their own conclusions in solving problems and through the solution of many problems having an identical element find a generalization or principle that serves as a guide in other procedures, experience seems to indicate that they get not only a clearer conception of the principle but are able also to make greater subsequent use of it. in their everyday experiences pupils are continually faced with the necessity for making selections, combinations, and arrangements which will be satisfying from the standpoint of color and design. before they can select wisely they need some standards upon which to base their judgments and by which they can justify their decisions. before they can make satisfying arrangements and combinations of material they need judgment skill in determining what to do. they also need principles or standards by which they can determine how to proceed. finally, they need opportunity for practice so that they may become adept in assembling articles and materials into pleasing and harmonious groupings and arrangements. the more experience pupils have in confronting and solving true-to-life problems under the guidance of the teacher, the greater is the probability that they will have acquired habits of thinking that will enable them to solve successfully the many problems that they are continually forced to meet in life. it might be well to inquire at this point the meaning of the word problem as used in this bulletin. according to strebel and morehart[ ]-- probably there is no better definition of a problem than the condition which is spoken of by doctor kilpatrick as a "balked activity." this idea is general enough to include all sorts and phases of problems, practical and speculative, simple and difficult, natural and artificial, final and preliminary, empirical and scientific, and those of skill and information. it covers the conditions which exist when one does not know what to do either in whole or in part, and when one knows what to do but not how to do it, and when one knows what to do and how to do it but for lack of skill can not do it. in teaching by the problem-solving method professor lancelot[ ] makes use of three types of problems. through the first type, known as the _inductive problem_, the pupil is to determine certain causes or effects in the given situation. in determining these causes and effects, various details of information are needed but these do not remain as isolated and unrelated items. out of the several facts is evolved a general law, a truth, or a principle. for example, in developing pupil ability to understand and use the underlying principle of emphasis, the teacher may make use of such questions as: have you ever tried to watch a three-ring circus? pupils are given an opportunity to relate their experiences. have you ever seen a store window that reminded you of a circus? in which of the store windows on center street do you think the merchant has displayed his merchandise to the greatest advantage? why? from a discussion of such questions as these the teacher can lead the pupil to realize the desirability of avoiding confusion in combining and arranging articles used together and to understand at least one way of producing the desired effect. the next type is the _judgment or reasoning problem_, which offers two or more possible solutions. in certain subjects as mathematics in which there is but one correct answer, the reasoning problem is used. in other subjects in which, in the light of existing conditions, there is a best answer, the judgment problem is used. this best answer or final choice is determined upon the basis of the law or principle established through the inductive problems. few subjects are more concerned with the making of choices than art. for this reason, judgment problems play an important part in an art training which is to function in the daily lives of pupils. as soon as a principle has been tentatively established, it is desirable to give the pupils an opportunity to recognize the use of the principle in several similar situations and to use it as a basis for making selections. for example, following the establishment of the principle of emphasis, the teacher may ask the pupils: will each of you select from these magazines an advertisement in which your attention was immediately attracted to the article for sale? be ready to tell the class why you were attracted to this piece of merchandise. the third and final type is the _creative problem_, which makes use of the truth or principle discovered in the inductive problems, so that the pupil is encouraged to do some creative thinking by using the principle as the basis for determining procedure to follow in a new situation. since everyday living is full of opportunities for making choices and combinations, it is essential that both judgment and creative problems be included in practical art training. for example, to teach the use of the creative problem in the study of emphasis the instructor may say to a pupil: choose a partner with whom to work. from the materials i am providing make an attractive table arrangement for a living room, and then choose a large piece of wallpaper or a textile that would make a good background for it. lamps, candles, candlesticks, flowers, pottery, and books will be provided for this activity, as well as the textiles and the wallpaper. professor lancelot[ ] sets up five standards for determining what are good problems. they must, he says, be-- . based on true-to-life situations. . interesting or connected with things of interest. . clearly and definitely stated. . neither too difficult nor too easy. . call for thinking of superior ability. in addition, there are four other factors to be considered in the planning of a successful problem series; . each problem should score high according to the above standards. . the usual sequence is in the order already given--inductive, judgment, and creative. since the creative problems call for the highest type of thinking and are the most difficult, the natural place for them is at the end of the problem series. at that point the pupils should have sufficient information and judgment ability to enable them to solve the most difficult problem quite readily. introducing the difficult problem too soon may discourage the pupil and lessen interest in the course as a whole. some creative problems involve fewer art principles than others. for example, the spacing of a name on a place card is much simpler than the hanging of a picture in a given space. in art it is desirable to use simple creative problems as they fit naturally into the problem series. (see pp. - .) . as the problem series develops, there should be an increase in the difficulty of the problems. it is obvious that the simpler problems are to be used at the first of the series. to develop judgment to a desirable extent, the later choices will be determined from an increasing number of similar situations and from situations in which the degree of difference decreases as the problem series progresses. . each problem series should involve as many types of life situations as possible. for example, applications of art are needed in the various phases of homemaking. (see section iii, pp. - .) for that reason it is very desirable to select problems in each series from as many of these phases as possible. by this means the pupils are better able to cope with their own problems in which a fundamental art truth, or principle is the basis for adequate solution. the following detailed procedure is presented as an illustration of the way in which an art principle may be developed through a problem series. it may appear to be unnecessarily detailed and to require more time than the average teacher would have for planning. however, part of material here given consists of probable pupil replies and a description of the illustrative materials that are to be used. suggested procedure for developing an ability to use a principle of proportion for attaining beauty an effort is here made to present the details of a teaching plan by which a principle of proportion may be developed by the pupils. this plan is spoken of as a lesson, but not in the sense that it is to be accomplished in a limited amount of time, such as one class period. the term _lesson_ is used to designate the _entire procedure_ from the introductory problem to the point where the pupils have developed the ability to use the principle of proportion. it will be possible to make more rapid progress with some classes than with others and in some class periods than in others. it is suggested that the teacher endeavor to evaluate the class time and plan so that the end of the period comes not as an interruption but as a challenge to further interest, observation, and efforts. the lesson suggested below should take not more than three of the short class periods of to minutes. if too much time is spent on one series there may be a lessening of interest because of seeming repetition. on the other hand, if sufficient applications and problems are not used after the principle is established, there is danger that the pupils will not be able to use it in solving other daily problems. further suggestions for problems, illustrative materials, and assignments may be found on page . suggested plan for the development of an understanding of the principle of proportion and its use _general objective._--to develop ability to-- select articles which are pleasing because of good proportions. adapt and make pleasing proportions as needed. _specific objective._--to develop ability to-- divide a space so the resulting parts are pleasing in their relationship to each other and to the whole. assume that the group to be taught is a ninth-grade class in art related to the home. very few members of the class have had any previous art training and such training has consisted of some drawing and water-color work in the lower grades. previous to this lesson, it is assumed that the teacher has developed the pupils' interest in the beauty to be seen and enjoyed in the everyday surroundings of their community, and has developed pupil ability to understand and to use a principle of proportion, namely, that _a shape is most pleasing when one side is about one and one-half times as long as the other_. the establishment of the above principle has probably given the class an opportunity to read of the golden oblong or the greek law of proportion in an art reference such as goldstein's art in everyday life. this will have served to further establish a feeling for interesting shape relationships and also will have made the pupils familiar with the term "proportion." the class may or may not have developed an ability to recognize and use the principles of balance. =details of lesson procedure= [sidenote: problems and questions to introduce the principle needed to solve this and many similar problems] the first-aid room in the school is very bare and cheerless. miss m., the school nurse, and mr. b., the superintendent, have decided that some thin ruffled curtains at the two windows will soften the light and make the room more homelike. miss m. has purchased some ready-made curtains and has asked if the class would like to determine the best way to arrange the tie backs. "how many of you think that this is an art problem? will it be helpful to us to know how to divide a window space with curtains? tie-back, ruffled curtains have been very much in vogue for some time. the models in the drapery departments and the illustrated advertisements show a variety of methods to use. since there is so much variation, how can we be sure that curtains are tied back in the most attractive way possible?" [sidenote: use of illustrative materials] the curtains have been hung at the two windows in the first-aid room. at one window the curtains are not tied back and come to the bottom of the casing, at the other one they are arranged in two other ways designated as a and b. by the a method the curtain is tied back exactly in half; by the b method it is tied back between one-half and two-thirds of the length. the initial question would probably be: "which of these two arrangements, a and b, do you think contributes most to the appearance of the window?" [sidenote: class discussion] some of the class will undoubtedly choose a. their reasons for this choice may be as follows: . the uncurtained window space is more or less diamond shaped. . the four sections of the curtains are almost exactly alike. others will choose b, and give such reasons as follows: . the window space is less noticeable. . there is more variety in the curtains. . it is more interesting if the eye can travel down the longer part of the curtain and then come to rest at the part tied back. these reasons will probably lead the majority of the class to decide that b is more desirable than a. at this time another arrangement designated as c may be introduced. for this, one curtain at the second window may now be tied back so near the sill that the two parts do not seem to be related. one designated as d may also be introduced, in which the arrangement is exactly like that of b, except that the curtains are tied back above the center instead of below. a summary of the points which may be brought out by the class on each arrangement of curtains follows: [sidenote: summary of class discussion] a, in which the curtains are divided exactly in half, is not interesting for a very long time because-- . the divisions on each side as well as above and below the tie backs are all alike. . it leaves too much of the window exposed. . the window space exposed does not follow the lines of the window. . the arrangement becomes tiresome the longer one looks at it. . one's curiosity is quickly satisfied when it is obvious that the two areas are exactly alike. b, in which the curtains are tied back between one-half and two-thirds of the length and below the center continues to be interesting because-- . the two sides are alike, but the top half is not exactly like the bottom half. this variation makes it more pleasing. . although the top half of each side is larger than the bottom half, it does not look top-heavy because the tying back of the curtain gives a place for the eye to rest. it holds the same amount of attention as the long length of curtain above it. c, in which the tie backs are placed at a point below three-quarters the length of the curtain, is not interesting for any length of time because-- . the eye travels very far down the length of the window, then is suddenly interrupted by the tie back. . this arrangement is top-heavy. . the window space is not pleasing. d is exactly the reverse of b, so it is equally interesting. [sidenote: further use of illustrative material] "suppose we now look at these curtained windows from the outside. do you think that the arrangements which we decided are most pleasing from the inside are equally pleasing from the outside?" after examining the arrangements of curtains at the windows the pupils may be led to decide that b and d continue to be the most pleasing. "since we are now agreed that in b and d the tie-backs divide the curtains so that the spaces are most pleasing, would you like to determine just where the division comes in each of the curtains?" some of the members of the class will be eager to take the measurements and report on them. they will find that in-- [sidenote: class determines best division of space] a the division is exactly in the center of the length. b the division comes at a point between one-half and two-thirds of the length. c the division comes at a point more than three-quarters of the length. d the division comes at a point between one-half and two-thirds of the length. at this point it will be well to direct the attention of the class to the possibility of space division in other places. "do you think that there are spaces, other than windows, which could be satisfactorily divided according to the same measurements?" members of the class may suggest panels in doors, divisions in dress, and the like. "marie is making a plain one-piece dress. the narrow belt is to be of the same material. where would be the best place for her to place the belt?" try placing a belt on a plain one-piece dress or provide three tracings of such a dress with the belt placed as follows: in one the belt divides the dress in two equal parts. in the second the belt is placed so the skirt is a little longer than the waist. in the third the belt is placed at normal waistline. (with a long skirt this makes the skirt very much longer than the waist.) measurements may again be taken and compared with the divisions of the window. the class may be led to decide that a plain dress is divided best by a belt which comes some place a little above or below the center of the total length. [sidenote: class develops statement of principle for good proportion] "if you wanted to help someone to divide a space so the resulting parts would be pleasing, what directions would you now give them?" each member of the class may be asked to write out a statement of directions. some of these may be put on the blackboard and the class members given an opportunity to choose the one which they think would be most helpful in obtaining space division. the final statement should bring out the following: _when a space is to be divided the result is most pleasing if the dividing line falls at a point between one-half and two-thirds of the length divided._ to insure real ability to use the principle of space division which has just been developed, it will be necessary to give the class several problems which they may judge as a group. these in turn should be followed by other problems which will call for individual planning and the application of the principle in their solution. the number of such problems will vary with the class, but there should be enough to insure the desired ability. furthermore, those given should be from as varied fields as possible so that the pupils will be able to make their own applications as needed. =series of suggested problems to test pupils' ability to recognize and use the principle of proportion just developed= [sidenote: judgment problems given for class solution] . "in which of these doors do you think the division into panels is most satisfactory? why?" in this problem, as in the succeeding ones, the solution is not considered adequate unless each pupil can justify the choice she makes or the answer she gives according to the principle which was established in the earlier part of this lesson. . "on which of these book covers do you think the space is best divided? why?" . "small boxes have a variety of uses in our homes. these are all approximately the same in size. which do you think has the most interesting relation between the depth of the lid and the depth of the box? why?" . "helen is planning to make a dress with a cape collar. her mother thinks the collar is not deep enough and suggests that helen change the pattern. how could she determine the most becoming depth for her cape collar?" . "jane did not have enough cloth to make a dress without piecing it or buying more material. she decided to put a yoke in the waist. how deep on the waist do you think a yoke should come to be most attractive?" . "mary has some -inch glass candlesticks at home. how can she determine the length of candle that would be most suitable when they are used on the buffet?" [sidenote: creative problem involving activity] . "arrange the window shades so that the window space and the depth of the shade are pleasing in their relation to each other. justify the arrangement you have made." [sidenote: judgment problem involving activity] . "choose a girl with whom to work during the next few minutes. check to see if the dresses you are wearing to-day have the belts so placed that each dress is divided as well as possible. suggest any desirable changes for each other and justify each change." (at some time in the development and subsequent use of the principle established in this lesson it will be well to connect it with a previously established and closely related principle. such a connection is made use of in the following problems.) [sidenote: creative problem involving use of a principle previously developed] . "i have an odd picture frame that i wish to use for this landscape which came from a magazine illustration. the picture is the right width, but it is too long for the frame. how do you suggest cutting it so that it can be used in this frame and still retain its pleasing proportions?" (such a landscape will obviously have a division of space in it by the line of the horizon. the problem will be one of retaining pleasing space divisions in the picture, as well as retaining pleasing proportions of the whole, while fitting it to the frame.) [sidenote: possible assignment] . "choose a plain card most pleasing in proportion, which may be used as a place card for the home economics luncheon that the class is giving to the mothers. plan the placing of the names on these cards. justify your choice of card and the place you have chosen for the name." problem may well be given as an assignment. it may be given at any desired time in the problem series as a judgment problem following the establishment of the principle. a definite attempt has been made to arrange problems to in order of degree of difficulty. it is evident that those which necessitate creative planning and manipulation call for greater ability than the problems of selection. although problems and are given last they may be introduced at any point. they are given last here because they require the use of two principles of proportion, i. e., relation of length to width in objects and division of a space into two parts. problems to make use of only one, i. e., the principle concerned with the division of a space into two parts. =further suggestions for problems, illustrative materials, and assignments= there are various possibilities of introducing this lesson on proportion other than through the arranging of curtains. the curtain problem is used here because it involves a school situation. such a problem sometimes has as great an appeal for girls as some of the most personal ones. however, any one of a number of problems, such as the placing of a belt on a dress, the depth of a flounce or yoke on a dress, the relative lengths of jacket and skirt in a suit, or the length of candles for candlesticks may be used for the introductory one. choice will be determined upon class needs and school possibilities. the important factor will be to see that the problem is so stated that it stimulates a desire on the part of the pupil for adequate solution. if the school windows and real curtains are not available for this problem, some window and curtain models may be borrowed from drapery departments of local stores for class use. if it is not practicable to use curtains or to borrow store models, the teacher might prepare in advance of the class meeting miniature windows for this problem. these may be made of heavy construction paper, cardboard, or beaver board, and should be of a size and scale that will permit accuracy in the conclusions drawn from their use. _the use of miniatures should be confined to emergency situations, when the real things are not obtainable._ with some classes it may be necessary to use additional illustrative materials in which there are no other factors than those of space division. the teacher may prepare rectangles of neutral paper, representing any given space to be divided, in which the division is made by a contrasting line in each of the following ways: one divided exactly in half. one with the dividing line between one-half and two-thirds of the length from one end. one with the dividing line at a point three-quarters of the length. one with the dividing line between three-quarters of the entire length and the end. conclusions drawn from a comparison of the above illustrative materials may in turn be applied to other problems in which color, texture, or design may have made it difficult in the beginning for the pupils to focus their attention upon space division. it is obvious that if choosing candles for certain definite candlesticks is the introductory problem, candles of varying heights, but of the same color, will need to be provided if the class is to come to some definite conclusions. if this problem is used in the judgment series, as in the lesson above, it will serve as another application of the principles of space division. one possible assignment has been given in the lesson. other possibilities present themselves as follows: . "where could you find an illustration in which you think there is particularly pleasing space division? will you bring such an illustration to class?" such an assignment affords additional training in selection and directs the observation of the pupils to their environment outside the school. . "when you are at home to-night, will you notice the arrangement of articles on your dresser? if these articles are not as well arranged as you think they can be, make an arrangement which is balanced and which divides the space as well as possible. be ready to tell the class why you think you have a well-balanced and nicely spaced arrangement." in this particular assignment it is assumed that pupils have previously developed the ability to make balanced arrangements. this is a further application of that ability but in an advanced form. in developing an ability to make balanced arrangements, attention was centered on the placing of articles on either side of a center. now that the ability to divide a space has been developed, it is time to take up the balancing of articles within a given space so that the proportions of that space are pleasing. it is highly desirable in the teaching of art that the relationships of principles in the attainment of beauty be established as soon as each is clearly understood. it is not enough that a principle be clearly established and several applications of it made. as soon as this much has been accomplished it is time that problems be used which involve this new principle and at least one of the preceding ones. such a cumulative teaching plan is essential to make art training function most successfully in the lives of the pupils. class projects many judgment and creative problems arise in certain group and class projects, providing opportunity for utilizing and showing the relationships of the essential principles of art in their application. they are more often undertaken in connection with home furnishing than with other phases of homemaking. provision for such projects involving the selection of articles and materials and the arrangement of them to bring about an attractive and harmonious effect can usually be found right in the school. for example, as a class project, the wall finishes, the furnishings, and the accessories may be chosen and arranged for a specific room such as the dining room, bedroom, or living room of the home-economics department if such rooms are available or the rest room for teachers or girls. in some schools, the separate cottage is used to house the home-economics department. this offers an opportunity for pupils to show what they would do under practical conditions. it is important that the furnishings for such cottages be in keeping with what is possible in the majority of homes in the community. if when the cottage is new the teacher plans with the pupils for only the essential furnishings at first, further problems of selection and arrangement will be reserved for several classes. in a few schools the home-economics department has cooperated with the trade and industrial department in planning small houses, which were then built by the boys in their carpentry classes. the girls have then selected and arranged the furnishings for such houses as a class project. when there is no opportunity within the school for such class or group projects, there are other available possibilities to which a teacher of related art should be alert. better homes week is observed in many towns and cities and those in charge are usually glad to turn over the furnishing of one or more rooms for the occasion to the local home-economics department. a center to which so many visitors come affords an excellent opportunity for exemplifying to the community good taste in furnishings at a cost consistent with the income of the average family. in one school the related art class took over the project of refinishing one of the rooms in the girls' dormitory. it was necessary to use the furniture already provided, which meant the expenditure of a minimum amount of money. there was, therefore, the problem of refinishing some of the furniture to bring it into harmony with the newly planned room. the old dresser was one of the pieces to be remodeled and painted. figures and show the dresser before and after the class had worked on it. [illustration: figure .--the dresser as found in the dormitory room] [illustration: figure .--the same dresser after the class in related art had remodeled and painted it] in a few instances, homemakers have entrusted the furnishing of rooms in their homes to the related art class. thus it is seen that a variety of opportunities do exist. they should be located and such use made of them as will mean the enrichment and vitalization of the work in related art. notebooks in the limited time usually allotted for the teaching of art related to the home the teacher is confronted with the problem of how to make the best utilization of that time. one of the first questions which must be decided is whether a portion of it shall be devoted to the making of notebooks. in analyzing the situation she will need to determine the purposes which they serve. the notebooks may be justified on the ground that they-- . provide a collection of illustrative and written materials which pupils may have for future use. . provide a classroom activity through which pupils learn. . measure pupil ability to recognize art applications through the selection of pertinent illustrations. . may supplement or be used in place of a class text. . provide material for the school exhibit. . insure material for competitive purposes at county and state fairs. . maintain interest. answering the following questions may serve to determine whether notebooks are of value to the pupil: . does the notebook provide for worthwhile individual experience? . will it pay in terms of time and energy expended? . what is the ultimate use of it? the following chart may serve to aid the teacher in judging whether notebooks are justified: chart .--_analysis of the value of notebooks in art courses_ -----------------+----------------------------------------------------------- | value purposes of +--------------------+-------------------+------------------ notebook | in terms of | in terms of time | in terms of | worth-while | and energy | ultimate use | individual | consumed | of notebook | experience | | -----------------+--------------------+-------------------+------------------ . to provide a | to the extent that | usually more | notebooks may be collection of | the activities | time and energy | exhibited, but material for | involved exercise | consumed than | beyond that later pupil | individual | later use | experience seems use. | judgment. | justifies. this | to indicate that | | is dependent upon| few girls or | | the degree of | women use them | | elaborateness of | later in home | | the notebook. | life as a source | | copying, tracing,| of information. | | and pasting | | | are very | | | time-consuming. | -----------------+--------------------+-------------------+------------------ . to provide | to the extent that | both may be well | it may train classroom | the activities | spent, provided | pupils to be activity | involved provide | the evaluation | observant and through which | opportunity for | in ( ) is kept | critical and pupil learns. | exercising | in mind and if | thus aid in | selection. | much of the | making wiser | | mechanical work | choices in | | is done outside | real life. | | of class. | -----------------+--------------------+-------------------+------------------ . to measure | to the extent | a justifiable | after selections pupil's | to which the | use of time and | have been made ability to | activities give | energy, provided | they are of no recognize art | added opportunity | the emphasis | use later as applications | for making | is on making | a measuring in the | independent | selection and | device. selection of | choices and offer | the mechanical | pertinent | opportunity for | processes are | illustrations.| students to | minimized. | | recognize and | | | select additional | | | applications to | | | those given in | | | class. | | -----------------+--------------------+-------------------+------------------ . to supplement | there is little | it is not | pupil may use it or use in | opportunity | justifiable use | for review in place of a | for individual | of pupil's time | organizing class text. | experience | to compile text | subject matter | in writing a | material which | of the course | notebook, since | should be made | for examination. | the material is | available to | beyond this, | usually dictated | them through | probably little | or copied from | other channels. | use is ever made | references. with | | of it. | the present | | | available | | | facilities for | | | reproduction of | | | printed | | | information there | | | is little excuse | | | for this | | | procedure. | | -----------------+--------------------+-------------------+------------------ . to provide | not a justifiable | time and energy | no use except materials | objective. it | consumed do | for some proud for school | develops a sense | not justify | relative to show exhibits. | of false value. | preparing | to friends the | some judgment is | notebooks for | notebook that | undoubtedly | this purpose | has won special | developed, but | alone. time so | recognition. | the competitive | used may mean | | spirit so far | sacrificing | | exceeds the | opportunities | | desire to | for the | | learn that the | development and | | experience is | use of judgment | | frequently | in real-life | | unfortunate to | situations. | | the individual. | | -----------------+--------------------+-------------------+------------------ . to insure | see ( ) above. | see ( ) above. | see ( ) above. material for | | | competitive | | | purposes at | | | county and | | | state fairs. | | | -----------------+--------------------+-------------------+------------------ . to maintain | to the extent that | an expensive use | of little value interest. | the pupils are | of time and | since notebooks | permitted to use | energy, since | are usually | some originality | interest may be | stored away | or initiative in | obtained in so | and forgotten. | choosing material | many quicker and | | and compiling it, | easier ways. | | interest may be | if there is | | maintained. | seemingly greater| | | interest it is | | | probably in the | | | manipulative | | | processes rather | | | than in art | | | itself. | -----------------+--------------------+-------------------+------------------ in the light of the analysis of their value it would seem that the use of notebooks should be carefully considered before they are given any place in the teaching of art related to the home. if used at all, they should not be the objective of the course but the voluntary effort of the pupils in attaining other objectives and should take a minimum of class time. from the standpoint of time alone there is certainly a question as to how much routine work in cutting, pasting, or writing should be permitted. the teacher not only has a responsibility for teaching but for the most efficient teaching at a minimum cost in time and energy to the pupil. the immediate and ultimate uses of collected materials should be the most important criteria as to kind and amount. when the pupils have an opportunity to choose illustrations which show good application of art they are not only developing their powers of discrimination but are revealing the degree to which these powers have been developed. some practices in judgment are valuable and probably sufficient in themselves. for instance, when a pupil selects two or three good examples of rhythmic movement in design she will have developed a finer feeling for rhythm and will have demonstrated her recognition of it. of what value would it be for her to make a permanent record of these illustrations? there are other selections that may be of more permanent value, such as pictures chosen to illustrate some art application. when these are mounted or framed attractively they make desirable additions to the girl's room and home. illustrations suggestive of new and interesting ways of applying trimming, or of arrangements for dressing table covers, window draperies, and similar materials are also of more permanent value. they may serve the immediate purpose of illustration in the art class and then be made available for later use if they are filed in some way. one of the most satisfactory means of keeping such materials is in large envelopes or portfolios. these may be provided at small expenditure of time and money by using heavy wrapping or construction paper. the latter may be made very simply by cutting and folding the paper to form a double-pocket envelope. rather than encourage the notebook type of collection of magazine illustrations and samples of materials, the teacher may interest the girls and women in selecting simple articles that may be used in their own homes and will give lasting enjoyment. if a notebook or portfolio is to be used for keeping certain records for later reference, the requirements for it should be limited to those which are easily attainable by all members of the class. however, this does not suggest a restriction of the efforts of the especially-talented pupil. each page of the simplest notebook offers opportunity for the application of art principles in the planning of good margins, as well as in making attractive groupings of illustrations on mounted and written pages. it would seem desirable to discourage the elaborately decorated type of notebook covers because they consume considerable time for making and have such a temporary use. portfolios well constructed and of lasting quality may be used later for keeping choice, unmounted pictures, or photographs. the place of laboratory problems the "laboratory problem" is a term quite generally used to designate a problem which is carried on within the classroom and involves some pupil activity. such problems may involve judgment, a combination of judgment and manipulative skills, or a combination of judgment and creative thinking with some manipulation. they may be used to discover a law or principle, to verify a conclusion, or to test the judgment and creative ability of the pupils. the term as it is used here is restricted to the type of problem which involves judgment in selection, creative planning, and careful manipulation of materials for successful completion. such problems are frequently known as craft problems. since this type of problem involves so many kinds of ability it is evident that it can not be introduced too early in the course if it is to be executed successfully by the pupils. to the degree that judgment ability in selection has been developed and there has been opportunity to do creative thinking, the pupils will be able to carry out such problems more independently. this does not mean that all laboratory problems are to be reserved until the end of the course, but it suggests that each problem be considered carefully to determine if the pupils' preceding training has been adequate. for example, posters may be undertaken much earlier than a problem in tie dyeing. the main requirement for successful posters is an ability to use the principles of proportion and emphasis. a problem in tie dyeing to be successful should be preceded by an understanding of the use of the principles of proportion, balance, and harmony as well as of color. the successful laboratory or craft problem provides a measure of the pupil's judgment and creative ability; an opportunity for manipulative expression; and a means of producing something that should contribute to the beauty of the home. the pupil should visualize each finished article in its place in relation to the whole scheme of the room or home. the making of articles for which there is no definite need or place in the girl's home can hardly be justified in school time. the use of those materials in laboratory problems with which the pupils will need to work later is considered the more valuable experience. for example, experience in working with dyes rather than with water colors or paints will be more useful to the average girl, for in her home she is more often confronted with the problem of renewing color in underwear or other garments or changing the color of curtains to fit in with the new color scheme of her room than with problems necessitating the use of water color or paints. laboratory problems that are well selected and wisely directed will result in one or more of three values: . pupils may have a better appreciation of fitness and purpose. . pupils may have a greater desire to own and use beautiful things. . pupils may have a greater appreciation for possibilities of beauty in the simple things. with these possible values in mind the teacher will need to determine which of the many laboratory problems can be used most effectively. the following standards are offered as a basis for evaluating the various possibilities for such laboratory problems: . _time._--this is probably the most important factor because, in the first place, many laboratory problems are far too time consuming, and, in the second place, the total time allotment for an art course is usually limited in the vocational program in homemaking. _every article which can be justified for a school problem should require a relatively small amount of time and few repetitive practices._ . _ultimate use of the article._--this is a factor which is often lost sight of and as a result girls make ruffled organdy or embroidered or quilted silk pillows for which they have no real use. _every article should be evaluated in terms of its relation to use and surroundings and be chosen for a specific place._ . _structural quality of the article._--"structural design is the design made by the size and shape of the object."[ ] laboratory problems involving structural design afford opportunity to make use of several art principles, but to bring about structural beauty the pupil must have achieved real ability to use these principles. _every article should meet the fundamental requirements of good design._ . _suitable decoration for the article._--"decorative design is the surface enrichment of a structural design." too often decoration has failed to contribute to the appearance or to the utility of the article. _decoration, if any is used, should make a lasting contribution rather than a temporary appeal._ . _good technique._--an article may be well planned, with good design and pleasing decoration, and may be one that would not require too much time in the making, but the finished product may not be acceptable because of poor technique. _laboratory problems should require only that type of technique which can be achieved successfully by the pupil._ the ultimate purpose of this particular part of the training in art related to the home is to enable girls and women to make selections for their homes that will contribute to their attractiveness rather than to produce artisans in the various crafts. therefore the selection of class laboratory problems must be made most carefully. the teacher will need to emphasize repeatedly the importance of structural value, as well as the utility of articles if the pupils are to appreciate these qualities as more fundamental than decoration. difficult situations often arise as a result of poor choices on the part of pupils for their laboratory problems or for the decoration of articles to be made. great tact is required in leading pupils to see that such choices are poor without offending them. it sometimes means slow progress and waiting until the class judgment brings out opinions that may have more weight than those of the teacher. it is more effective for a teacher to allow a pupil to proceed through the "trial and error" method than to completely discourage the making of the poorly-chosen article. however, the successful teacher must evaluate each situation in light of the cost in time and money and the effect that failure would have upon the individual pupil. the most important consideration is that out of the experience the pupil will progress toward the desired objectives. the "trial and error" procedure is well illustrated in the following report of a wisconsin high school teacher: related art is taught in all units but is taken up in detail for the first time in the sophomore year in home furnishing and decoration, wardrobe planning, and the christmas gift unit. most of the girls come from very poor homes; and the prevailing idea of beauty is largely artificial flowers or large framed family photographs. the aim in the related art work has been to help the girls use the things they already have and to appreciate beauty in the things they own and have the opportunity to buy or see. the following problem arose in the sophomore class of girls in the home furnishing and wardrobe planning unit: the girls were to make christmas gifts in which their knowledge of design and construction was to be applied. the gifts were to be for some particular member of the family or friends. after deciding what they were to make they planned the design and colors. some of the girls used yarn or bias tape designs on theatrical gauze or monk's cloth, making scarfs, pillows, curtains, davenport covers, or couch covers. others made collar and cuff sets, aprons, underwear, towels, laundry bags, pan holders, or passe partout pictures. elva came to school with a blue bird panholder to embroider in many colors as her gift to a married sister. i told her it would take much time and i wondered if it were worth while putting the time on a panholder. i asked her if the design were appropriate, and she said she liked it better than the plain quilted holders. i did not know what to do as i did not want her to spend time on such a foolish and inappropriate article but decided that she might be convinced of her poor choice after making it so i allowed her to work on the holder, giving her help as needed, but no encouragement as to the beauty of the holder. in order that the others in the class might be more convinced concerning some of the things we had discussed in our related art from this holder, i asked each girl to keep accurate account of time spent in making the gifts. the girls who were making plain holders had finished a set of them and at least one other simple gift while elva continued embroidering on her holder. everyone was much interested in all of the gifts and made many comments. although none but elva knew my views, she received no class approval or bursts of enthusiasm over her holder, and one girl even ventured to ask her if she thought her holder was good design. finally the gifts were finished, and each girl exhibited her work, criticizing it both constructively and adversely. finally it was elva's turn. it was a pleasant surprise when she said: "i spent - / hours of time on this one holder, and i don't like it now. i could have made six plain ones, and they would have been better in design and served the purpose better than this one will. i don't think my sister will appreciate this holder more or maybe as much as one of the others." the class did not take exception to her criticism, and we then evaluated the design, appropriateness, and time spent on it. the class decided elva was right in her conclusions that she had made a mistake. as most of the girls were giving their gifts to persons in the community, we discussed placing and use of the various gifts, and the girls decided that after christmas they would tell how or where the gifts were being used. when this time came and elva reported, she said the panholder had surely been used and was so badly scorched that you couldn't even see the design that took - / hours. several laboratory problems which teachers have used in art classes are here presented. in the light of the standards which are offered as a basis for determining what problems shall be chosen, they are discussed briefly as to their educational possibilities. the order in which they are listed is alphabetical and not suggestive of importance in ranking. . _block printing._--if the designs are so simple that the girl learns how to adapt similar simple designs to other things for her home, this problem may have value in such a course. in addition, the girl is acquiring a wall hanging or a table cover that will have an appropriate place in her home. such simple blocks may be kept for using on a variety of articles for gifts which the girl can make at very little expense and in a short time. the "stick printing" also offers some opportunity for adapting designs. . _fabric or yarn flowers for the wardrobe._--if such articles are made of appropriate materials, there is opportunity for girls to exercise judgment in the selection of colors, textures, and combinations that are suited for their use on special garments. . _hand stitchery (embroidery, hemstitching, fagoting, and quilting)._--in so far as the pupils can justify the use of hand stitchery for a particular article or garment and then confine their efforts to the choosing and adapting of designs, to the planning of color combinations and to the doing of just enough of the stitchery to learn the process, stitchery problems may have a place in the art course. the actual repetition of stitches is too time consuming for class practice. unless the pupils will finish such problems outside of class some others would better be chosen. there is an opportunity through stitchery problems to show girls how a bit of appropriate handwork may be applied to an inexpensive ready-made garment, thereby enhancing its attractiveness and value. . _lamp shades._--lamp shades may be individual class problems if the pupils have real need for them. if made in class the educational value comes through planning the size and shape, choosing suitable and inexpensive materials, and adapting appropriate designs to them. . _lettering._--since in many real situations in life one is requested to print one's name, it would seem desirable to include some very simple straight-line printing problems. . _marbleized paper._--this is a possible class exercise which involves the handling of colors. such papers may be utilized as wrapping for gifts, book covers, desk sets, or portfolios. . _painting furniture._--there will probably be little opportunity or need for the actual carrying out of such a laboratory problem in the beginning course in art related to the home, but it may be used successfully in a later unit in home furnishing or in a home project. the educational value in painting furniture is confined to the choice of finish and color and in learning the manipulative processes. the actual painting of many pieces is too time consuming to be done at school and too laborious for young girls to do unassisted at home. . _place cards._--the choice of size and shape of card and the placing of the name on it are the important factors in using plain place cards. here is an opportunity for girls to make use of straight-line letters. in selecting and making decorated place cards, suitability to purpose and kind and amount of decoration are other factors that need to be considered. . _portfolios._--simple portfolios may be appropriately used as class problems provided the pupils have a need for them. they afford opportunity for the application of the principles of proportion, emphasis, and harmony as well as of color. if decoration is to be used, it should be simple and suited to the material of which the portfolio is made and to its intended use. . _posters._--when the need for posters arises, a related art class may profit by applying their knowledge of color, emphasis, and space arrangement in making them. for a simple yet attractive poster, a well-mounted picture which suggests the story with one or two lines of lettering may be grouped to form a unit. this takes but a short time. for those students having difficulty in making the straight-line letters in crayon or ink, the gummed or cut letters may be used, or a school stamp lettering press may be utilized. . _rug hooking._--the educational value of this problem is in the selection and adaptation of designs and colors to the spaces and materials used. beyond this point it is largely repetitive manipulation; and unless girls want to finish rugs outside of class, and will have an opportunity to do so, such work should be discouraged. . _tie dyeing._--if good dyes are procurable and the exercise is limited to using a few hues, tie dyeing may be desirable from the standpoint of developing ability to combine colors successfully and to the fitting of the design to the shape of the piece dyed. if used as a class problem, special attention needs to be given to the adaptation of design to the space. this means careful preparation of the material for the dye bath. wise planning for the desired color effects is also essential. shaded dyeing offers an interesting opportunity for further use of color. the problem involves the recognition of interesting ranges of values and the determination of pleasing space relations for those values. it has been suggested previously that handling dyes would be a more valuable experience to girls than using paints or water colors. however, to insure success, dyes of standard quality should be selected and carefully prepared. soft water has been found best for most dyes. a soft, loosely woven material without dressing is typical of the fabrics that are most frequently dyed at home and may well be used at school. carefully dyed yard or half-yard lengths of cheese cloth have been found valuable in supplementing other fabrics in the study of color. the experience girls gain in mixing and handling the dyes for these short length pieces has been deemed by some teachers as far more valuable than that gained through making flat washes for a color chart as a means of understanding colors and their relationships. much time is usually lost in having pupils attempt to mix paints for flat washes for the various hues of color charts. the purpose of making color charts is to provide the girls with a guide for recognizing and combining colors. many teachers have found that a more successful method is to have the pupils arrange colored fabrics or papers in the order of their hue relationship. it has not been considered necessary for each pupil to do this, since the ability to recognize hues and their relationships may be equally well achieved through working in groups. a large chart of standard hues provided by the teacher will be valuable in developing understanding of color. . _weaving._--this problem requires a loom, and for the small amount of weaving that should be done in school and in view of future needs, the teacher is seldom justified in asking for such a piece of equipment. book ends, trays, and candlesticks are essential articles from the standpoint of utility and well-selected ones are valuable as illustrative material in the development of good judgment in their selection and arrangement. when these articles are used as laboratory problems, special care should be taken to avoid placing the emphasis upon decoration. there are no doubt other problems that may be used successfully. however, only those should be chosen that will supplement the art training advantageously and that will measure up to the five suggested standards on pages - , which, stated in more specific terms, are-- . every article should require a relatively small amount of time and few repetitive practices. . every article should be evaluated in terms of its relation to use and surroundings and chosen for a specific place. . every article should meet the fundamental requirements of good design. . decoration, if any is used, should make a lasting contribution rather than a temporary appeal. . all problems should require only that technique which can be achieved successfully by the pupils. field trips field trips in some form have been used to quite an extent in the teaching of many subjects and have been undertaken for a variety of reasons. in the teaching of art the purpose may be fourfold: . to stimulate interest in beauty. . to provide contact with materials and articles as they are to be found in life. . to extend information. . to provide additional opportunity for exercising judgment. unless the trips to be made by the class are planned carefully they may become merely freedom from regular school routine. if the group has an opportunity to help plan the trip, including the route to be taken, the points of interest to be looked for and reported upon at the next regular meeting of the class, the conduct to be maintained on the trip, and the courtesy due the homemaker or the merchant or the business man who is cooperating with the class visit, there is bound to be greater interest and concentration upon the trip with more beneficial results. trips taken very early in the unit or course can do little more than serve as a means of stimulating interest in the new phase of work. trips taken later may be used to verify conclusions and develop judgment in making selections as well as to create broader interests. one class in a study of clothing selection made several trips to the local stores. the first one was preceded by a study of surface pattern in dress fabrics from the standpoint of the effect of design and color upon the appearance of the wearer. the trip to the local stores was made to determine which of the wash dresses exhibited in three store windows best met the standards which the class had set up for such a dress. the standards were as follows: . the style or design of the dress should be suited to the kind of fabric and the surface pattern of it. . the trimming should be in harmony with the construction lines and the color of the dress. . the surface pattern of the material should be one of which the wearer and her friends would not soon tire. in this particular case, since the class was small and the trip included only window shopping, some discussion was carried on in the group as they stood outside of the display windows. at a little later time the same class was taken to the stores on a shopping trip. each pupil was asked to select material for two dresses for one of her classmates, one to be for a washable school dress and the other for a "dress-up" dress. the materials were to be selected from the standpoint of color and design for the individual and of suitability for the type of dress. the procedure set up by the class previous to the trip was to work quietly and independently at the store and to refrain from saying why they did or did not like various things they saw there. when each girl had made her selections she was to ask the clerk for small samples and to be sure that the rest of the class saw the large pieces from which she had made her selections. during the next class period each girl exhibited her samples and justified the choices she had made. the girl for whom the selections had been made was given an opportunity to express her opinion, and the remainder of the group were encouraged to comment upon the proposed materials. when these pupils later had the problem of selecting materials for the new spring dresses they had decided to make in class, there were many evidences that the experience gained on the trips to the stores had been of real value to them. in the study of accessories for the spring dress this class had another window-shopping trip which followed a lesson on the selection of shoes. the purpose of this trip was to see what effect trimming lines had upon the apparent width and length of the shoes and to choose from those displayed in the windows the style of shoe that would be most suitable for some member of their class to wear with a dress she had made or purchased. field trips that have a definite purpose and are well planned and arranged for in advance can make valuable contributions to the classroom training in art. if a class is to be taken on a trip to a store, to visit a home in the community, or to an industrial plant it is only courteous and an evidence of good management for the teacher to obtain permission and make necessary arrangements with the merchant, the homemaker, or the manager far enough in advance to avoid conflict in time and to plan in accordance with their most convenient time for visitors. measuring results how can the degree to which art training is functioning in the lives of the girls and women be determined? it is fully as important for the teacher to evaluate results of her teaching as to plan for it carefully. this has been commonly recognized as a definite part of teaching, but the procedure has been largely limited to the giving of written tests. such tests have usually been of the type that measure factual information and have probably failed to indicate the degree to which the student's life has been improved by her use of the art information. tests which are thought provoking and the solving of school problems are both valuable measures, but they are not sufficient in themselves for testing art. they fail to reveal whether or not the girl is making voluntary and satisfactory art applications or appreciating beauty to any greater extent in her everyday life. whitford[ ] refers to outcomes as follows: two significant and fundamental outcomes of art education are revealed by an analysis of the relation of this subject to the social and occupational life of the pupil. these are, first, ability to recognize and appreciate art quality and to apply this ability to the needs of everyday life; and, secondly, ability to produce art quality even though in a relatively elementary form. when art has been effectively taught there are many tangible evidences of its functioning in the personal and home life of the girl. what are some of these tangible evidences that indicate successful art training? the outstanding ones may be found in the girl's appearance at school and in the choice and arrangement of furnishings in her room and home. =evidences of the successful functioning of art in the classroom= improved personal appearance of pupils may manifest itself in their selection of ensembles from garments already possessed or from newly selected garments from the standpoint of-- . color combinations. . texture combinations. . appropriateness of clothing for school. . appropriateness of style of garments to the girl. . appropriateness of accessories. the story of freckled-faced mary well illustrates how art did function in one girl's life. she was an unmistakably plain high-school girl. her hair was red, her face freckled, and her nose decidedly retroussé. her clothes of gaudy colors never fitted and always seemed to emphasize her personal deficiencies. but one day a new teacher came to the school, whose business it was to teach home economics, and into her hands mary, mercifully, came. a few months later the state supervisor of home economics, a close observer, visited the school, and her attention was soon drawn to mary, not as the worst-looking girl in the school but as one of the best-looking girls in the school. soft, becoming colors, good lines, and a suitable style of garments had brought out the best tints in her red hair, softened the freckles, and transformed a plain girl into an attractive one. all of this had been accomplished as an indirect objective of the teacher in her related art instruction in home economics. mary had unconsciously learned that beauty is, after all, a relative term in regard to individual objects and that it is the setting that gives grace and charm. unless the teacher is on the alert some interesting evidences of successful teaching may go unnoticed. some of the changes in the pupil's appearance come about gradually and without audible comment. such was the case in one class. most of the year betty had been wearing an old -piece wool dress. during the winter she had worn a belt of the dress material at a low waistline, so that the belt covered the line at which the pleats were stitched to the dress. early in the spring, and, as it happened, near the beginning of the art unit, betty evidently became much interested in the styles that advocated a return of the normal waistlines and succumbed to the appeal of the new leather belts in the store window. for several days she proudly wore a wide leather belt fairly tight and high, with this straight flannel dress, all unconscious of the fullness bunching above the belt, the poor proportions of the dress, and the poorly finished seam where the pleats were joined to the dress. after some time had been spent on the art unit in which no direct reference had been made to betty's belt, the teacher was very much pleased one morning to notice that betty had taken in the side seams of her dress to remove some of the fullness and was wearing the leather belt a little more loosely and somewhat lower, so that the space divisions of the dress were more pleasing. is there a better evidence of successful art training than that which shows that the pupil is able to adapt in an attractive way the garments of her present wardrobe so that they measure up to the individual's desire to be up to date? a kansas teacher reports that she overhears comments among girls before and after school which reveal evidences that art is influencing tastes. here are some examples of these comments: that color is too bright for her. that particular green dress makes her skin look yellow. those beads harmonize beautifully with that dress. she is one girl who should not wear her belt high. it makes her look so short and dumpy. i have given my sister my colored scarf, which i now realize clashed with everything i had, but fits in with her things. better pupil contributions to class work constitute another evidence of the effectiveness of art instruction. these manifest themselves in-- . voluntary reports and comments of observations and experiences. . the bringing in of illustrative material for class and bulletin board use. . the asking of relevant questions. some of these may be evidenced outside the regular class period. this was true in the case of joan, a high-school freshman in an art class, who had been rather unwilling at times to accept the art standards set up by the rest of the class. her argument was, "what difference does it make? why can't everyone select just the things she likes?" very little attention was definitely directed to her for she would sulk if pressed for a reason to justify her statement that everyone should choose as she liked. one monday morning the teacher, upon her arrival at school, found joan waiting in the classroom to tell her of the shopping trip she had had with her mother on saturday. joan had selected a red silk dress which she and her mother had both liked. after going home joan had begun to wonder if the dress would look all right with her last year's coat and hat and wanted to know what kind of hose would be best to wear with the dress. this teacher could well feel that her art teaching was developing in joan a real interest in art. assumption of greater responsibility by the pupils for more attractive arrangements at school contribute another evidence of the effectiveness of art instruction. this may manifest itself in the arrangement of-- . articles on tables, buffets, or bookcases. . flowers in suitable bowls. . books and magazines. . exhibit cabinets. . stage settings for class plays. still another criterium of the effectiveness of art instruction is the spread of interest in the work from home economics pupils to others in the school. a teacher of related art in missouri says: one of the most striking and pleasing evidences of art's carrying over is the fact that so many girls outside of the home-economics department come in and ask questions regarding some of our pupils' clothing or ask to see the art work done here. the seniors in the teacher-training department are especially interested, as they expect to teach art in the rural schools and have had practically no work in it. =evidences of the successful functioning of art in the home= one of the most gratifying results of art teaching is the influence it creates in improving the homes of the community. this may be seen through-- . more attractive arrangements and rearrangements of furniture, rugs, pictures, and accessories. . elimination of unnecessary bric-a-brac. . more suitable use of color. . more appropriate choice of textiles and texture combinations. . improved selection and care of shrubbery, hedges, and flower beds. removal of unnatural or grotesque shapes. . improvements in walks, trellises, fences, and gates to make them more suitable for house and grounds. a teacher in a vocational school in north dakota reports as follows: one of the most valuable evidences of improved practices that i see from our art work is the girls' appreciation of things that are beautiful and their desire to acquire a few truly beautiful things for their own rooms and homes. an itinerant teacher trainer describes a lesson in related art which she observed. it is given here for its very practical suggestion of a means for measuring results of teaching: the day before my visit the teacher had taken all the girls of her class to a city about miles away to purchase christmas gifts for their mothers. the girls had limited themselves as to possible types of gifts within their limited means and at the same time suitable for their mothers. only one gift cost more than $ and that was the joint gift of two sisters to their mother. the class had agreed that each gift should be of such nature that the application of art principles studied would be involved in making a choice. they had practically confined themselves to pictures, beads, book ends, or vases. all of the gifts had been brought to the home-economics rooms for storage until the christmas tea when they would be presented to the mothers. the girls brought out all their purchases and all entered into the judging without false modesty. in some cases the purchasers were able to suggest improvements in future purchases. the entire group showed unusual poise, self-confidence, and good judgment, as well as tact, in making suggestions. the new problem arising from this lesson of designing an invitation to the annual christmas tea for the mothers was a very real one to the girls. the principles of balance were taught and applied, and the girls decided on a design for the invitation. various tests and problems may also serve to measure the results of art teaching. a description of the test which was used at the end of one art unit, as a basis for determining the use the pupils were able to make of that training, is here included. it is hoped that this plan may prove suggestive to other teachers. the test was given at the close of an art unit which had been conducted according to the method described earlier in this section. (see section iv, pp. to .) the class consisted of ninth-grade girls and met for daily class periods, minutes in length. at the beginning of the period on this day the teacher told the class that the first part of the period was to be devoted to a make-believe shopping trip. in this test, cost was not a factor but the material used did not include too wide a range in values. slips with the names of the articles for which they were to shop and directions were prepared. some of the shopping was to be done individually and some of it by groups. when all were finished the shoppers were to meet in the classroom and be given an opportunity to see all of the "purchases" and to know why each selection had been made. the slips were then passed out from which the pupils were to draw. the directions for procedure on the slips were as follows: . select from the box of scarfs the one you think would be most suitable to wear with the blue coat that is in the clothing room. (three girls drew copies of this slip and worked together in choosing the scarf and justifying the final choice.) . for the plain tailored flannel school dress hanging in the clothing room, select a scarf or some appropriate accessory which could be worn with the dress to introduce variety. (three girls worked on this shopping problem.) . mrs. b. wishes to use this colored picture and these blue-green pottery candlesticks in an arrangement on her mantel. she does not know what color of candles to buy. she is afraid that if she uses blue-green candles the color combination will be monotonous. which of these candles would you suggest? why? (there was considerable variation in the candles provided. in addition to several hues from which to select there were plain as well as decorated candles, and some variations in length. two girls made this selection.) . suppose your bedroom were a small one and had but one window in it. select from these samples the wallpaper design that you think would make the room look larger and the material to use for draperies in the room. (a large wallpaper sample book and several samples of plain and figured fabrics in a variety of colors were provided for the two girls who did this shopping.) . you are to have a new print dress. which of these pieces of material would you choose as having the most rhythmic design? which trimming material do you think would be best to use with it? (several samples of printed materials were pinned together and each pupil who drew a copy of this slip was given a separate set from which to choose. bias tape, braid, and lace, as well as plain and printed fabrics, were provided for trimmings.) . choose from these printed fabrics the one that you think would be most suited in color and design for some member of this class. tell for whom you have made the selection, justify your choice, and suggest the trimming that you think would be most appropriate. (the selections were made from a miscellaneous group of samples, printed and plain materials in a variety of colors.) . from colored fabrics plan three color combinations that could be used for a dress. describe the combinations that you have used in each as to hue, value, and intensity, indicating areas of each color and justify their use together. (an assortment of fabrics separate from those used by other pupils was prepared for this group to save time and to enable the pupils to work independently. if fabrics are not available, papers may be used, although colors are never the same as in fabrics.) as soon as the "purchases" were all completed the pupils individually or as group representatives, exhibited the selections to the class and gave the reasons justifying each choice. the entire class participated in commending or criticizing the selections made and the reasons given. here the teacher was able not only to measure the individual's ability to solve a given problem but to observe how readily the pupils could recognize desirable selections and offer correct art reasons as the basis for those selections. immediately following the reports, the pupils took their places around the tables in the clothing laboratory, and the remainder of the period was devoted to individual and written judgments of materials which were passed around the class. this material was numbered, and to each piece was attached a slip of paper containing suggestive questions and directions as follows: . to which of these mounted pictures do you think the margins are best suited? why? (the pictures cut from magazines were suitable for the classroom or a girl's room and were mounted on a neutral construction paper. only one had margins suited to the size and shape of the picture.) . which of these stamped and addressed envelopes do you think has the most pleasing margins? why? (several envelopes differing in size and shape were addressed and stamped in a variety of ways.) . which of these dress designs are balanced? select one that you have decided is not balanced and suggest the changes necessary to make it so. (illustrations of several dress designs that the pupils themselves might use were chosen from a current fashion sheet and were mounted and numbered. attention was first focused on the designs which were balanced and then on the possibility of improving those that were not balanced.) . in which of these pieces of china do you think the design is in harmony with the shape of the dish and would make a suitable background for food? justify your choice. (in the absence of real china, magazine advertisements of china furnished the necessary examples from the standpoint of color and design.) . which of these three border designs has rhythm made most beautiful? why? (advertisements of towels with borders furnished the designs.) . is this calendar pleasing in proportion? give reasons for your answer. (the calendar was quite a long rectangle in shape, but the margins were well suited to it, and the entire space was well divided.) . what in this picture catches your attention first? how has the artist emphasized it? (the picture used was one taken from a magazine cover and was a copy of a painting of recognized merit.) . which of these fabrics has the most pleasing combination of stripes? why is that piece more pleasing than the other two? (cotton materials were provided with stripes varying from those that were regularly repeated at intervals as wide as the stripes, to those in which there was an interesting grouping of stripes of varying widths.) . which of the containers pictured in this advertisement would you select to use for an arrangement of flowers? why? (the containers varied from those which were undecorated and well proportioned, to those which were elaborate in shape as well as in surface decoration.) . on this page are two color combinations. tell what scheme has been used and by what means the colors have been harmonized. (these combinations were cut from magazine advertisements in which the combinations were pleasing. the colors had been harmonized through the quality of each color as well as the area.) in each of the above situations the answer was not considered adequate if the pupil had merely made a choice. a reason was needed to substantiate that choice and the most complete answer was based on the principles of art which applied in each case. this did not mean that formal statements of the principles were required. it was considered much more desirable to have the pupils give in their own words the art reasons which justified each choice. that such a test gives pertinent evidence of the use pupils are able to make of their art training is shown in the words of the teacher who gave the above test: i did not want my students to feel that art work was something to be memorized until the course was over but a thing to be carried through life. i was very much pleased with the results i obtained from the class. the pupils responded to the idea that art could be used in every phase of life even when it came to writing up their daily lessons. they no longer thought of art as something accomplished only by professional artists, nor the word as meaning painting and drawing, but as the feeling or appreciation of things beautiful in line, design, and color. by having them constantly put into practice the art principles which they learned, by the end of the art unit the pupils had enough confidence in themselves to back up each choice that they made with a reason. i felt that this type of a test was a true test of their art knowledge because it was practical. immediately the question arises as to the source of materials to use in such a test, for it is evident that those used as illustrative material for developing or applying principles in class can not be reused in the test. for questions , , and of the first part (p. ) the materials used may be borrowed from a store or solicited from interested friends. the girls themselves may be asked in advance to bring in a scarf and some dress accessory. since the choice is confined to an article suited for a particular garment that choice ceases to be a personal one, although some pupil-owned garments and accessories are used. drug stores, paint shops, and drapery departments may be solicited for wall paper catalogues and samples of fabrics. some firms will send fair-sized samples or swatches of material for class use. in the second part of the test (pp. - ) magazine illustrations and advertisements proved to be most usable. illustrative materials have long been recognized as having an important part to play in the teaching of home economics. the possibilities of their use in testing the results of teaching have not yet been fully appreciated. further suggestions on illustrative materials will be found in section vi, page . the objective type test also has its place in measuring results.[ ] as has been suggested, many tangible evidences of the effectiveness of art instruction may be observed and several of them can be noted in the classroom. others of equal or greater importance can not be measured in the classroom, but can only be determined by the teacher as she visits the home, supervises home projects, and participates with her pupils in the life of the community. the home project has been an essential part of the vocational program in home economics since the inauguration of the vocational program in - . it has afforded an opportunity for extending the work of the classroom into the home and has developed additional desirable abilities through practice under normal conditions. the project carried on in the home has therefore been considered a valuable educational procedure. it is also a measure of results of teaching in that it shows how well the girl is able to apply classroom training to actual situations that arise in her project. art can contribute to the success of many home improvement and clothing projects. there has been a tendency in some cases, however, for the pupil's interest in the actual manipulative processes involved in the project to be so great that she lost sight of the opportunities for the best applications of art. in the home project "redecorating my room," there is evidence that the pupil has consciously applied art for the successful attainment of it. this project, reported as follows, grew out of the unit in home furnishing, which is recommended as an additional study following the first general course in art related to the home. _name of project._--redecorating my bedroom. _plan of project._--since my bedroom must be repapered and painted, i plan to make it as attractive as possible by following some of the things we have had in our art work in home economics. the plaster of the walls is not suitable for painting, so i will select some light and cheerful colored paper with figures in warm pastel shades. the woodwork, which is a pea-green color, is quite dull and cool for a north room and needs brightening up, so instead of having the same color again, i will paint it a light cream or ivory. a dark-yellow paint covers the floor, which is quite worn in some places. i do not like this color, so my plan is to use either light brown or tan, at least something darker than the walls, as i want the floors darkest, the walls next, and the ceiling the lightest. to make the furniture, which is now varnished, blend with the color of the woodwork and floor, it too will have to be painted a color lighter than the floor or darker than the woodwork. in place of white tie-back curtains, deep cream or some other color darker than the white will be more suitable with plain-colored draperies, as they will blend with the ivory woodwork and enameled furniture. in order to contrast the curtains with the bedspread and dresser scarf, i think the spread and scarf can be a lighter cream color. a cushion for the rocker and a flower by the window will also add color and finishing touches to the room. _outline of project activities._-- ----------------------------------+-------------------------------------- jobs | references ----------------------------------+-------------------------------------- selected wall paper and helped | looked through several wall paper paper the room, using paper | catalogues and samples at the with light background and | furniture store. pastel figures in it. | | painted the woodwork an ivory | i got sample folders of paint and color. | also used the samples in the | catalogue. | | the house and its care, by matthews. | painted the floor an inside tan | used sample folders of paint. (deep tan color). | | goldstein, art in everyday life, | for suggestion on color. | painted the furniture with beige | i referred to paint folders. enamel. | | made an unbleached krinkled | i looked through several magazines spread, repeating the color of | and catalogues for styles and the draperies on the spread. | my mother and sister gave | suggestions. | made deep cream voile curtains. | studied different styles of curtains these were straight curtains, | in magazines. not ruffled. | | made draperies. | referred to magazines and catalogues. | made cretonne cushion for rocker. | mother gave me suggestions. | made a dresser scarf, repeating | consulted mother and my teacher. colors that are in the wall | paper. | ----------------------------------+-------------------------------------- _time for project._--a total of - / hours was spent on my project between november and january . _story of my project._--my bedroom is a northeast room, long and narrow, with sloping walls, and had but one window on the north side. this made it dark and cheerless during most of the year. last summer my father built a dormer window in the east side of the sloping walls. immediately the room seemed transformed. it did not look so long and narrow and the sunshine drove out the darkness and cheerlessness. this improvement gave me the idea of remodeling the bedroom, and i saw many possibilities of making it into a cheerful and cozy one, where i could spend much of my spare time. i began almost immediately to remodel. the first thing i started with was the walls. they were not suited for painting, so i chose paper, which i got at the furniture store. after looking through several wall paper catalogues i chose paper with a light background and an inconspicuous, conventionalized design in pastel tones of blue-green, red-orange, violet, and yellow. (sample attached.) before i put the paper on the wall i cleaned and sandpapered the woodwork, floors, and dusted the walls. father and i then began papering. we had some trouble in matching the paper, but after the first two strips were matched the rest was put on without difficulty. the next job was painting the woodwork. i applied two coats of ivory paint after having dusted the wood so that there would be no dust to interfere with the painting. this was done successfully and without difficulty. (sample of color used.) the next step was painting the floor. i chose inside tan. (sample of color used.) the furniture was easier to paint than the floor but it took quite a while to give it two coats. i used enamel that dried in two hours, so had to be careful not to rebrush the parts i had painted, as rebrushing causes light streaks after the paint has set. (sample of color used.) with father's assistance, i completed the difficult work of papering and painting. then i began the pleasant work of making a spread, curtains, draperies, and cushion. i looked through several magazines, catalogues, and books for the different ways of making curtains, spreads, and draperies. my mother and sister also gave suggestions as to what would go best with the room and how to make them. i chose deep cream voile curtains with red-orange (peach) pongee draperies. the curtains are made with a wide hem at the bottom and sides. the spread is of unbleached krinkled muslin. (sample attached.) i have a deep ruffle of the same material at both sides and i repeated the red-orange color in two bands near the ruffle. the rocker needed a cushion. this i made of figured cretonne, which blends nicely with the room. (sample attached.) on the floor i have two rag rugs which also have colors of blue, red-orange, and tan. my teacher came to visit my room one evening and gave me some splendid ideas. i shall add a homemade wardrobe for my clothes and put a low shelf in it for my shoes. in front of the dormer window a table will fit nicely. i am going to fix this table up with some books supported by book ends, a simple box, and a blooming plant. i will keep some simple and useful articles on my dresser. all through this report there are many evidences that the pupil can apply the principles of art successfully and also that she knows how to obtain further information as needed. another interesting feature of this project is that the pupil did not consider this a finished piece of work when her original plan had been completed. she saw other possibilities for her room and was beginning to make plans for further changes and additions in keeping with those that had been completed. there is no better evidence of the success of art training than in the effective use the girl makes of it in her home life. it may be anticipated that a girl who has gone this far in improving a part of the home will endeavor to make other desirable changes. to the extent that the members of the entire family welcome the changes brought about by the project and enjoy the results, the project may be considered successful. the success of art instruction may then be evaluated by-- . evidences in the classroom. . evidences in the home. . tests which call for judgment and creative thinking. . home projects. home projects home projects involving the use of art are to be encouraged, not only as a device for measuring the results of teaching, but as a means of stimulating applications of art in the home. art training will function in the immediate lives of the girls to the extent that successful applications of it are made through the home projects. however, such applications are not made without the ideal and therein lies the importance of developing in girls ideals of having and creating beauty that will be sufficiently deep seated not only to motivate but to carry through pieces of work in their homes that will bring more beauty and satisfaction to the families. projects carried on in the home demand more than a repetition of certain processes that have been learned in school. they involve the bringing together of many principles and processes, the exercising of judgment in determining which are needed, and then the applications of these in the new situation. thus the home project is a creative piece of work. much more use of art should be encouraged in many of the projects which girls are choosing in all phases of home activities since it can contribute so much to the comfort and attractiveness of homes, and these are essential factors of happy family life. lewis mumford,[ ] a distinguished critic of modern architecture and decoration, has fittingly said: the chief forms of decoration in the modern house will be living things--flowers, pictures, people. here is a style of interior decoration that perpetually renews itself. for the modern house is built not for show but for living; and the beauty it seeks to create is inseparable from the personalities that it harbors. it is safe to predict, on the basis of the home projects in which desirable art applications have been made, that through conscious effort the following outcomes may be expected: . the ideal of creating beauty in the home will be strengthened. . pupils will recognize greater possibilities for making art applications. . pupils will become more observing and discriminating. . family life will be bettered by those projects in which home improvement has been achieved. . pupils will appreciate that beauty is not dependent upon cost. . more successful projects will be carried out. the last point is reflected in the summary of results that one girl made of her home project, "improving the looks of my room." she said: the only cost for my project was for the two little pictures that i hung by the mirror. i learned that it is not always the cost or quality that determines the attractiveness of a room. things must be arranged correctly or much of the beauty is lost. my mother thought that everything i did to my room was an improvement and encouraged me to do much more. i am planning to do more for our entire house in the future. the home project which resulted in an improved kitchen in one home had a favorable influence upon the home life of the family. the girl, with the financial assistance of her brothers, had made an attractive and more efficient kitchen in the bare -room house, which was the home of the family. the living quarters were naturally limited in such a small space. in reporting on this project the teacher said: i feel that this project has been very worthwhile to ethel and her whole family. her mother was so grateful and told me how much better it made her feel to walk into a bright, cheerful kitchen every morning. she said that her boys were so pleased they had made a living room out of the kitchen on cold winter nights. =suggestive home projects in which art is an important factor= clothing projects which include planning as well as construction offer many possibilities. this planning would necessitate such applications of art as the adapting of style, design, and color to the individual, selecting and combining textures and colors in the fabrics, and using appropriate trimmings and accessories. such projects would also afford opportunity for exercising judgment through the evaluation of results. the same opportunities exist in the "make-over" projects as in the others in which all new materials are used. a few clothing projects involving art are suggested, as follows: . planning and buying or making (_a_) school wardrobe for self; (_b_) season's wardrobe for small sister or brother. . making the most of clothing on hand. this will involve cleaning, pressing, and mending, as well as some remodeling. . remodeling clothing on hand and choosing additional garments needed for an attractive and suitable wardrobe. . selecting the accessories to complete a costume for self or for mother. home-improvement projects which involve the exterior of the home as well as the interior should have a place in the home-economics program. in this group of projects there is not only great opportunity for the application of art as the basis for planning and selecting, but also for the making of more pleasing arrangements of things already in the home. in view of the fact that in most home-improvement projects the girl needs to make the best use of furnishings and equipment already possessed by the family, and usually has a limited amount of money to spend, her problems are greatly increased. except in the few cases in which she has the privilege of newly furnishing a room or a part of the home, the starting point is with the present possessions in the home and a careful evaluation of them to determine the good in each. _she should appreciate the fact that the home and its possessions belong to the entire family and that any changes she may desire to make should meet their approval or at least be undertaken with their consent._ in most cases the proposed changes will be more welcomed by the family if little outlay of money is necessitated and if the largest and best use is made of cherished household treasures. joint home improvement projects have been carried out in some states with considerable success. in these projects the girls in home economics have worked cooperatively with brothers who were in agricultural classes. this usually meant greater interest on the part of parents and other members of the family. more ambitious programs for improvement were thus possible, not only through greater family support and encouragement but through the boy's ability to make certain alterations in structure or finishing that a girl could not do alone. through these projects the boy and girl have learned much from each other. perhaps the most conspicuous evidence of success has been the spread of interest beyond the homes into community improvement. some suggestive home-improvement projects are as follows: . making the home kitchen a more convenient and attractive place in which to work. . arranging home furnishings and accessories so that harmony, balance, and desirable centers of emphasis contribute to the attractiveness and comfort of each room. . assisting in the selection and arrangement of furniture, wall coverings, floor coverings, or accessories for the girl's own room or other rooms in the house. . preparing the sun porch for summer use. . planning and caring for window boxes. . planning and planting a flower garden or border that will contribute to the appearance of the home and also be a source of pleasure. . re-covering or making slip covers for furniture. . assisting in the selection of linen, china, silver, and glassware for the table. . planning the table decorations for special occasions. . keeping appropriate centerpieces of flowers, plants, or fruit on the home table. two home-improvement project reports on beautifying our yard and improving our home are given as suggestive of types of projects in which art plays an important part in successful achievement. only the plans for the first one are given, since they show the significant art applications. _name of project: beautifying our yard_ (reported by a girl in a vocational high school in nebraska.) i. reasons for choosing this project-- . the flowers will improve the looks of the yard. . it will be an experience in the arrangement of flowers for me and will not only add to the attractiveness of the yard but to the house and surrounding buildings. ii. aims-- . to make the yard and house more attractive. . to keep flowers watered and weeded and give other care they need. . to plant the flowers in the most suitable place and position. iii. plans-- . get all the information i can from experienced gardeners and from books and magazines that tell which are the best flowers to raise, easiest to grow and take care of, and when and where they should be planted. . names of flowers to be planted-- cock's comb. zinnias. phlox. larkspur. nasturtiums. petunia. sweet william. cannas. snap dragons. sweet peas. poppies. heliotrope. asters. sweet alyssum. cosmos. marigolds. . location of flowers-- _a._ along the walk (both sides). _b._ along sides of the house. _c._ along side of vacant lot. _d._ around garage. _e._ along the driveway. . how to plant the flowers-- _a._ the tallest ones in the back. _b._ the shortest in front. . when to plant them-- _a._ sweet peas, march to , or before. _b._ others in the middle of april to may. _c._ the flowers may be started in the house and transplanted to the outside when the weather permits. . care of flowers-- _a._ water the flowers at least once a day (if dry weather). it is best to water them in the evening. _b._ weed them at least twice a week and loosen the soil around them. _c._ if some insect starts destroying any of the flowers, spray them with a solution which will kill the destroyer. iv. approval of guardian-- this project, beautifying our yard, selected by alta, is a very profitable project, especially at this time of the year when our thoughts are directed toward the planting of flowers, shrubs, etc. a beautiful yard adds so much to the home and makes everyone more happy and contented. this project should create a desire in alta to take more interest in the yard and in planting it. also watching the plants grow will make her feel some responsibility in caring for them, while at the same time every member of the family will enjoy the realization of the project. i wish her all success in making this project come true. note.--an excellent planting plan worked out on squared paper accompanied this project. _name of project: improving our home_ (reported by an alabama high school girl.) in the spring i took as my project home beautification. i thought when i started there was very little i could do to improve the old barnlike house and unsightly grounds, but the more i did the more there was to be done. i began by removing the old overgrown hedge from the side and front of the yard. after grading the ground we sodded the whole yard in bermuda grass. the house was next underpinned with rough strips of lumber which were painted. a lattice fence was also built from the house to the garage (about feet). between the fence and the lawn a space about feet square was left for a flower garden. just in front of the fence several rambling rose bushes, jonquills, and chrysanthemums were planted. all around the garden i had flower beds about feet wide filled with marigolds, zenias, bachelor buttons, asters, and phlox. in the summer we decided that we could afford a concrete walk and steps. this was a little expensive but it has helped the looks of the place so much that we have never regretted the time and money spent. the interior next received attention, beginning with my own room. the furniture consisted of an iron bedstead, an oak dresser, table, and chairs. there was a faded rug on the floor. i moved the dresser to another room, then from an old washstand i made a little dressing table. with rough lumber i made a window seat which i covered with bright cretonne. the furniture was very attractive after a coat of paint and two of enamel were put on. i have very light curtains at the windows. the old rug was turned over and looks almost like new. the walls in the living room and hall were painted in buff, the dining room and kitchen are to be the same. one of the greatest improvements of the interior is the built-in cabinets. a very convenient one was made between the dining room and kitchen, where an old chimney used to be. the bricks were used to build a basement. the part of the cabinet in the dining room is to be used for dishes, and that in the kitchen for the cooking utensils. both are to be painted cream inside and oak outside. next spring i am going to plant more flowers and keep working on everything that i think can be improved, for i love home projects. it not only has helped me, but has helped my entire family and even our neighbors. section v additional units in art related specifically to house furnishing and clothing selection though we travel the whole world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not.--emerson. in the earlier sections of this bulletin it has been suggested that the first course or unit in art be chiefly concerned with the fundamental principles of art and that applications of them be made in a great many fields. it is anticipated that a detailed or complete study of art as related to home furnishing or to clothing selection is to be given at a later time as separate units or courses. it is, however, hoped that the foundation course in art related to the home will give pupils such training that they will be better able to solve their most common daily problems in which art is an important factor, should they fail to have opportunity to take units in home furnishing or clothing selection later. in schools having two semesters that can be devoted to related art, it is recommended that the fundamental art course in which general applications are to be made be given in the first semester and the work of the second be composed of these more advanced units. when but one semester is provided for related art work, additional units in home furnishing and clothing selection should become a part of the regular homemaking program, with several consecutive weeks planned for each unit. these additional units offer fine opportunity for further applications of the principles of art in judgment and creative problems pertaining to home furnishing and clothing. since the pupils will have gained an art consciousness through the more general course in art related to the home, and should have developed to a fair degree an ability to recognize and use certain fundamental art principles, it may be expected that the home furnishing and clothing selection units will be built around the larger and more difficult judgment and creative problems of selection, combination, arrangement, and rearrangement as they are met in life. in planning for a unit in home furnishing as an additional unit in related art, the present and future needs of girls should again be considered. in the study of house plans, the question arises as to whether or not to require pupils either to draw original plans or to copy plans for houses. to do so has been justified as a means of developing interest of pupils in well-planned houses. however, since comparatively few pupils will ever make use of house plans they have made and because many of them will have occasion for making changes in a house that is already planned or assisting in the selection of a plan for a house, it would seem more worth while and less time consuming for them to judge house plans from the standpoint of convenience and the placing of furniture than to draw them. since the amount and kind of wall space is a determining factor in successful arrangements of home furnishings, opportunity for the individual pupil and class to judge house plans should be provided. many interesting plans are to be found in nearly all household magazines. care in the selection of such plans is important in order to avoid discussion of types of houses that are not in keeping with the standards of the community. if the home furnishing unit is to provide worth-while training and experience it should give to the pupils not only an ability to recognize good design and pleasing proportion in various pieces of furniture but ability to determine pleasing combinations of color, design, and texture in upholstery, drapery materials, and floor coverings, and to arrange and rearrange furniture and home accessories so that the rooms are comfortable and inviting. in all consideration of home furnishing and accessories, emphasis is given to the selection of the vase, the lamp, the chair, or the curtain which is most pleasing in shape and suited in color and texture for a particular grouping or arrangement. in the earlier and more general art unit, attention is confined to such selection for some parts of the home, but in the later study of home furnishing, they are made for the entire home, with more specific reference to the relationship of one room to another and to larger arrangements. it is assumed that in classes for the average girl years of age and above, little if any reference will be made to period furniture. if any is made, it should be from the point of view of determining the suitability of adaptations of it to the average home and not purely as a means of identifying one style from another. to the extent that a better appreciation of good design and proportion in furniture may be gained by studying why some period furniture, as early american, is always beautiful and continues to be reproduced, it may be desirable to make some allusion to it. when a teacher determines that for the majority in a particular class there is no need for devoting any time to a consideration of period styles in furniture, she may satisfy the few who ask questions concerning those styles by directing them to specific reference readings and allowing them to make individual studies of those in which they have greatest interest. the type of furniture to be found within the community is always a guide in determining how much, if any, study of period furniture is to be made. an attempt to justify such a study is sometimes made from the standpoint of the pupil's personal need in assisting in the selection of new pieces of furniture for the parental home and of the future need in selecting furniture for her own home. but, after all, success in providing an attractive and convenient home depends more upon the harmonious combination of colors and materials and the satisfying daily arrangement of furniture and accessories than upon whether or not the furniture is of a definite period or style. it is upon the former that emphasis should be placed in planning and directing a unit in home furnishing if it is to be of the most service in the everyday experiences of the pupils. the unit in clothing selection provides further opportunity for valuable art training. the main purpose in this unit is to develop in the pupils an ideal of being becomingly dressed at all times and an ability to choose and combine articles of clothing into attractive daily ensembles. it is evident that if such a training is to be of real service to the pupils in meeting their daily clothing problems they must work as much as possible with actual garments, clothing materials, and clothing accessories. the pupils may be expected to bring some of the needed garments and accessories from home, the teacher may borrow some from the stores, and whenever possible the pupils may be taken to the stores. such an experience as the last named is most true to life and is described elsewhere under the topic "field trips." (see pp. - .) many teachers question whether or not to include some study of historic costume. since the unit in clothing selection is designed to give the pupils an ability to solve their daily clothing problems, the practice of having the pupils make sketches, tracings, and mountings of costumes of different periods is undoubtedly of little value. it is not only time consuming but can contribute very little to the development of judgment in selecting and combining articles of modern clothing into suitable and becoming ensembles. there is even a danger that such a procedure may stifle rather than stimulate interest in beautiful and harmonious clothing combinations for everyday use. however, certain features of those costumes which have withstood the test of time and have been revived and adapted again and again in modern dress designs may justly claim some consideration. a few well selected and mounted illustrations of these historic costumes in color may stimulate an interest in art and a desire to know more about the influence of dress in the early periods upon the designs of to-day as well as contribute to better appreciation of color. section vi illustrative material when you understand all about the sun and all about the atmosphere and all about the rotation of the earth, you may still miss the radiance of the sunset.--whitehead. purpose in home economics teaching there is an increasing recognition of the importance of illustrative material as a teaching device. there is no greater opportunity for effective use of it than in the teaching of art related to the home. since one of the major objectives of such a course is to develop an ability to select the most suitable materials and articles, and since there is such a variety from which to choose, it is essential that materials which will give the pupils contact with good things and adequate experience in selection be provided. another important objective is to develop ability to make successful combinations and arrangements. since it is not yet possible to use real homes as classrooms, it is advantageous to bring some of the home into the schoolroom. some outstanding advantages of the use of illustrative material are: . it focuses attention upon a single example and affords opportunity for common interpretation and discussion. . it furnishes visual as well as audible instruction. . it provides contact with actual materials not in an imaginary form, but as found in real life. (the use of doll-size houses with furnishings is questionable for their construction is too time-consuming and they are too much in miniature to furnish standards or to interest girls in real problems.) selection and source what are the factors governing the choice of illustrative material? the following ones have been adapted from a study by a graduate student at the university of nebraska. the material should-- . make a psychological appeal by-- _a._ coming within the experience of the pupils. _b._ being suited to their age and previous training. _c._ possessing pertinent and attractive qualities. . afford wide opportunity for independent choice. . be simple and adapted to the standards of the community. . be reasonable in cost. teachers of art have a double problem in the selection of illustrative material in that they must not only choose those things which meet the above standards, but they must eliminate those in which there are unrelated factors which cause a lack of clarity. quality rather than quantity should be the guide in making selections, for a small amount of well selected and arranged illustrative material is usually more effectively used than a large unorganized collection. having determined upon the pieces of material that are desirable, the next problem is where to obtain them. every teacher of art should build up her own personal collection of materials to supplement what can be procured from other sources, for one teaches best from her own material. at the same time, the teacher has a responsibility in guiding the selection of some pieces which should be provided by the school as permanent illustrative material. still other pieces which it is inadvisable for either teacher or school to buy may be borrowed for special purposes. chart lists the general types of illustrative material and indicates possible sources of this material. chart .--_types and sources of illustrative materials_ ------------------------------------+-------------------------------- general types of | sources of these materials illustrative materials | ------------------------------------+-------------------------------- | i. articles and materials | in everyday use: | | . school-owned materials-- | . this collection will be book ends. | accumulated as funds are candlesticks and candles. | available and as desirable china. | articles are located. colored papers. | certain things as bits curtains. | of yarns and scraps flower vases and bowls. | of materials may be necklines cut from neutral | contributed by members fabrics. | of classes. pictures. | screen. | swatches of fabrics-- | for color. | for design. | for texture. | wall hangings. | yarns of many colors. | | . borrowed materials-- | . borrowed from teachers, brass or pewter articles. | homes, and stores in the wardrobe accessories. | community. dresses. | dressing table articles. | household linens. | picture molding samples. | scarfs. | small tables. | table runners. | trays. | | ii. collected and constructed | materials: | | . collected-- | . collected by the teacher magazine covers. | from commercial firms and magazine advertisements. | magazines. much of this magazine articles and | material comes to the illustrations. | teacher by virtue of her commercial advertising-- | position and should booklets. | therefore be considered boxes of miscellaneous | school property. size and shape. | catalogues-- | wallpaper. | furniture. | china. | silver. | pictures. | floor coverings. | charts-- | paints and enamels. | fabrics. | dyes. | colored paper samples. | fabric samples. | | . constructed-- | . made by the teacher. paper models representing-- | margins. | space divisions. | general proportions. | repetition of units. | harmony of shapes. | colour wheel. | ------------------------------------+-------------------------------- use the above list of illustrative material should in no way be considered as representing all that should be provided for the teaching of art nor as meeting minimum requirements. it is, however, indicative of some of the materials that are desirable and most usable as well as available at a small expenditure of money. the finest collection of illustrative material is futile if it is not used in such a way that the pupils see the significance of it and develop discriminating powers through the use of it. charts and other materials lose their value if hung around the room or left in the same arrangements from september to june. little notice is taken of them for they seem to become a permanent part of the background. most charts are not decorative and their use should be confined to that part of the work to which they definitely contribute. there are three important objectives to be kept in mind in the use of illustrative materials. they are-- . to arouse interest. for this purpose pertinent materials should be arranged attractively on the bulletin board or screen or placed in some conspicuous part of the classroom. these particular pieces should be changed very frequently. see figure , page . . to assist in solving problems in the development of the principle. the teacher will need to use clear and concise illustrative materials for this purpose. since these pieces of illustrative material are usually held up before the class, it is necessary that they be of such size that all of the pupils can see them clearly. in addition, the class should be so arranged that all members have equal opportunity for observing them and handling them. . to assist in developing judgment ability. materials for this purpose will be used in two ways: ( ) as an aid in solving judgment problems given to the class. in this case some pieces will be used by the group as a whole and others will be passed out to individual pupils. ( ) as a means of further developing powers of discrimination and judgment. for this pupils are asked to make selections and arrangements from a large number of articles and materials. in using illustrative material it is often advisable to have examples of both the good and the poor. when this is true, one must remember to finish with the good. in other words, start with the poor and contrast with the good; or start with the good, contrast with the poor, and then go back to the good. illustrative materials can not serve such purposes successfully unless they are so arranged as to be easily accessible for class use. for example, the small fabric sample mounted fast to a sheet of paper can not be examined adequately for texture study. it would be far better to have larger samples which are unmounted, thus making possible not only design, color, and texture study of them, but also many variations in combinations. the bulletin board and screen, well placed, offer good possibilities for accessibility of certain illustrative material which does not need to be handled. the screen is preferable because it can be moved around and placed to the best advantage for vision and light. to the extent that pupils have contact and experience with real articles and materials, there will be a better carry over and thus a greater ability to solve everyday art problems successfully. care and storage in addition to collecting and using illustrative materials, the teacher has the further problem of caring for and storing them. soiled, creased, or worn materials are not only lacking in inspiration but set up poor standards. illustrative materials may be most efficiently cared for by-- . mounting that from which margins will not detract, that in which only one side needs to be used, and that of which texture study is not important. . avoiding too long or unnecessary exposure. . careful handling. . cleaning if possible. . pressing. . labeling and classifying. . careful storing. good storage for illustrative materials offers many problems, but is that sufficient excuse for a teacher to leave materials on the wall the year around or piled carelessly on open shelves in the classroom? the provision for adequate storage does not necessarily require elaborate equipment nor a large expenditure of money. cabinets and steel filing cases are highly desirable but are not absolutely essential for good storage. much of the illustrative material for teaching related art lends itself to storage in manila folders and large envelopes, but some could better be stored in boxes, and still others, such as posters, swatches of fabrics held together by large clips, or pictures, may be best hung up. the use of folders or envelopes necessitates a place to keep them. in the absence of a filing case, one teacher improvised space by utilizing a large, deep drawer. a partition through the center made it possible to arrange two rows of folders. the same plan might be utilized in narrower drawers, providing for one row of folders and space at the side for storage of boxes. if regular manila folders are not large enough to protect the materials, larger ones may be procured at small expense by making them of heavy paper, which is obtainable at any printers. a strip of bookbinding tape may be used to reinforce the bottom. cupboard shelves are more often provided in school laboratories than drawers. in such cases large envelopes, which are easily labeled and handled, will hold the materials more successfully. boxes are very usable also, and may be stacked on shelves for easy accessibility. those which are uniform in size and color are especially nice for storing many materials such as textiles, yarns, and other bulky pieces, and when used on open shelves a good standard of appearance in the laboratory is maintained. any available space for hanging materials can also be used effectively. textile swatches, charts, and posters, as well as garments, may be kept in better condition by hanging in closets or cases than by packing. when the teacher of art has the privilege of advising on the original building plans that include an art laboratory, she would do well to plan for various types of storage space. perhaps the first essential is plenty of drawer space of varying sizes. shallow drawers of to inches are recommended by many art teachers. these may vary in width and length, but some should be sufficiently large for posters and the larger pictures. some deeper drawers are desirable for the odd, bulky pieces of material. cupboards with solid panel doors should also be provided, for boxes, vases, candlesticks, and similar articles which can be most easily stored on shelves. if a storage closet or case is to be provided, a small rod and many hooks should be included. then, of course, a special series of deep drawers or a filing case for the material that can be placed in folders should be a part of any newly planned laboratory. the most important factor is accessibility, and therefore the containers for all materials must be plainly labeled and conveniently arranged. since illustrative material is such a valuable teaching device in art related to the home, good storage space and easy accessibility are of fundamental importance in its successful use. section vii reference material the home of the future will become more and more an art laboratory for the homemaker. when housewives make a serious study of art in the home--and this may be manifest in the preparation of food as well as in the color arrangement of the house--there will be better homes as well as houses.--richard allen. use of reference material a wide use of reference material is essential in the successful teaching of art through the use of problems. many sources of information are necessary for pupils to evaluate tentative conclusions and to verify final conclusions as well as for elaboration of facts. reference to several different authorities will reveal to students the fact that there are differences of opinion regarding art and will help in making them realize the importance of weighing information thoroughly before accepting conclusions. in other words, it is valuable in preventing pupils from jumping to conclusions or accepting hasty conclusions. this suggests that several books for reference are preferable to a single text. however, many teachers favor the plan of providing three or four copies of the best books for class use rather than single copies of every art book that is published. in support of the use of references rather than single texts, the following points are made: . opportunity is offered for pupils to verify and elaborate on information. . more pupils will have contact with the best references. . resourcefulness in the pupil will be better developed. . teachers are challenged to make better selection of books as well as better use of them. . in those schools which provide free textbooks for the pupils it is easier to replace old books, since fewer copies of the newer ones will be purchased at one time. sources of reference material in addition to books, the teacher of art has at her disposal bulletins, current magazines, and educational advertising materials. in selecting art reference material for pupil use she should keep in mind that-- . information must be authentic. . it should be pertinent to the study at hand. . it should be not only clear, concise, and interesting, but easy to understand. . it should include a wide variety of well chosen and clearly reproduced illustrations. . illustrations should for the most part represent objects with which the girls come in frequent contact. . it should be up to date. . subject matter and illustrations should avoid extravagant choices that are not within the reach of the average family. . it should contain a good table of contents and index. since there is such a quantity of current magazine and advertising material, it is obvious that it can not all be used and therefore it is imperative that the teacher evaluate it and choose with keen discrimination all that she plans to utilize for illustrative or reference purposes. much of this material is valuable and may be had for the asking. while it is desirable for the teacher to have subscriptions to several of the most helpful magazines for class use, it is not imperative, since she may procure many of them from pupils, from other teachers, and from the school or local community library. several state departments have issued helpful lists of available advertising material for home economics, including related art. bibliography . for pupil and teacher use-- baldt, laura i., and harkness, helen d., clothing for the high school girl, . j. b. lippincott co., philadelphia. butterick, helen g., principles of clothing selection. revised . the macmillan co., new york. goldstein, harriett and vetta, art in everyday life, . the macmillan co., new york. rathbone, lucy, and tarpley, elizabeth, fabrics and dress, . houghton mifflin co., boston. sage, elizabeth, textiles and clothing. . scribners, new york. snow, bonnie e., and froehlich, hugo b., the theory and practice of color, . prang & co., new york. trilling, mable b., and williams, florence, art in home and clothing, . j. b. lippincott co., philadelphia. . for teacher use-- bailey, henry turner, art education, . houghton mifflin co., boston. batchelder, ernest a., design in theory and practice, . the macmillan co., new york. degarmo, charles, and winslow, leon loyal, essentials of design, . the macmillan co., new york. federated art council on art education, report of the committee on terminology. . l. l. winslow, secretary. baltimore. heckman, albert, pictures from many lands, . the art extension society, madison avenue, new york. morgan, a. b., elements of art and decoration, , . bruce publishing co., milwaukee. neuhaus, eugene, appreciation of art, . ginn & co., new york. national committee on wood utilization, united states department of commerce, furniture, its selection and use, . superintendent of documents, washington, d. c. packard, edgar, picture readings, . public school publishing co., bloomington, ill. parsons, frank alvah, interior decoration. doubleday, doran & co., garden city, n. y. russell, mable, and wilson, elsie, art training through home problems. (in press.) manual arts press, peoria, ill. sargent, walter, enjoyment and use of color, . scribners, new york. weinberg, louis, color in everyday life, . dodd, mead & co., new york. welling, jane betsy, more color for you, . abbott educational co., chicago. index abilities: creative, , . in laboratory problems, - . judgment, . objectives, . permanent, . specific ability in a lesson, . additional units. _see_ units. allen, richard, . applications of art principles: in notebooks, . to all phases of home making, - . through home projects, . appreciation: fundamental outcome of art instruction, , . objective, . arrangements: of articles on dresser, . of bulletin board, , . of curtains, - . of flowers, , , , . art (_see also_ design, beauty, and taste): essential factor in education, . quality, , . relation to home economics, . assignments, , - , - . baily, henry turner, . balance: objective, . principles, , . procedure for achieving, . beauty: contribution of principles to, . enjoyment of, . ideal of creating beauty in home, . objective, . better homes week, . block printing, . bobbitt, f., , . bulletin board: arrangement of, , . for illustrative materials, . center of interest. _see_ emphasis. child development, art topics, . clothing selection: art topics in, . suggested projects in, . unit in, - . color: a basic element, . in laboratory, . in nature, . objective, , . principles, . use of dyes in teaching, - . consumer: art training needed by, . selection versus making by, . content: choice of art, . essential art content, - , , . costume design. _see_ clothing selection. craft work. _see_ laboratory problems. creative problems. _see_ problems. cumulative teaching, . curtains. _see_ draperies. decoration, definition, . design. (_see also_ structural design), objectives, - . dining room, school, , . draperies, lesson on arranging curtains, - . drew, e., . economy, in dress, . embroidery. _see_ hand stitchery. emerson, ralph waldo, . emphasis: objective, . principles, , . environment: home, . home-economics department, , , , , , . objective, . evaluation of results. _see_ measuring results. exterior design. _see_ home exterior. federated council on art education, , . field trips: description, - . place in related art course, - . purpose, . flowers: fabric or yarn, . substitutes for, . flower arrangement: discussion of, . illustrations, , , , . furniture: painting, . refinishing, - . girls' room, home project, - , . goldstein, harriett and vetta, , , . hand stitchery, . harmony: objective, . principles, , . historic costume, . home-economics cottages, . home exterior, art topics, . home improvement: joint projects in, - . project reports of, - , - . suggested projects in, . home interior: art topics, . unit in home furnishing, - . home projects. _see_ projects. home situations for which art is needed, - . house furnishings. _see_ home interior. ideals: establishing, . in related art courses, . objective, . illustrations of appreciation centers, , , , , . illustrative material: for test, - . further suggestions for use of, - . in notebooks, , , . purpose of, . selection and source of, - . storage, - . use, - . use in specific lesson, - . inductive problems. _see_ problems. interest: arrangement of units to create, - . contribution of classroom to, , . creating, - . initial, - . objective, . specific, . spread of, . through field trips, . through illustrative material, . through notebooks, , . interior design. _see_ home interior. judgment problems. _see_ problems. kelsey, clark, b., . knouff, cyrus, w., . laboratory, improvement in, . laboratory problems: education possibilities of commonly used, - . place in related art course, - . relation to interest, . standards for evaluating, - . values of, . lamp shades, . lesson in art, - . lettering, . line, basic element, . marbleized paper, - . meal planning and table service, art topics, - . measuring results: description of test given for, - . discussion of, - . improved practices-- at home, . in school, - . practical test, . through home projects, - . through notebooks, . method in teaching: discussion, - . problem solving, - . morehart, . morgan, a. b., . morrison, h. c., . mumford, lewis, . needs for art training: general art, . girls, , , . home, , - . individual, . notebooks: analysis to determine use of, - . discussion of use, - . justification of use, - . objectives: general, , . guide for content, - , . in related art, - . in using illustrative materials, - . specific, - , . opposition, . orderly arrangement: in laboratory, . on bulletin board, , , . period furniture, - . personality, expressed in homes, , . place cards, . portfolios: for illustrative material, - . making, . posters, , . principles of art: application in all phases of homemaking, . classification, . illustrated in lesson on proportion, , . relationship, - . selection, - , . problems: creative, , . inductive, - , . judgment or reasoning, , , , . meaning, . source, . problem series: factors in planning, . suggested series, - . problem solving: discussion, - . use of illustrative material, . projects: class, - . home-- outcomes, . report of one, - . suggestive projects, - . proportion: objective, . principles, , , , , , - . sample lesson for developing principle, - . radiation, , . reasoning. _see_ judgment. reference material: for pupil and teacher use, . for teacher use, - . sources, - . use, . repetition: objective, . principles, , . rhythm: objective, . principles, , . rugs, rug hooking, . russell, mabel, , , . sequence: in problems, . in units, , . shaded dyeing, . social and community relations, art topics, . standards: for a dress, . for evaluating laboratory problems, - , . for reference material, - . strebel, . structural design: definition of, . emphasis in classroom, . subordination. _see_ emphasis. supervisors, use of bulletin by state and local, . surroundings. _see_ environment. taste: developed through good example, . quotation on, , . teachers: appearance, . art teachers, . home economics, . quoted, , - , , , - . special problems of, in art, - . teacher training: preparation in art, . use of bulletin in, . terminology in art, - . terms, art, . tests. _see_ measuring results. tie dyeing, - . transition, , . trilling, m. b., . units: additional units in art, - . arrangement in vocational schools, - , . in clothing selection, - . in home furnishing, - . unity, , . vocational program: art in all-day schools in, - , - , . art for adults in, - , . art for part-time girls in, , . objectives, . place of art in, - . weaving, . whitford, william c., , , , , , , , . williams, f., . wilson, elsie, vii, , , . windows, lesson on curtain arrangement for school, - . winter bouquets, , . publications of the federal board for vocational education relating to home-economics education[ ] annual reports to congress , , , , , , , , , . bulletins . clothing for the family. . on sale by superintendent of documents, government printing office. price, c. . home-economics education. organization and administration (revised). . on sale by superintendent of documents, government printing office. price, c. . use and preparation of food. . on sale by superintendent of documents, government printing office. price, c. . a study of home-economics education in teacher-training institutions for negroes. . on sale by superintendent of documents, government printing office. price, c. . health of the family. a program for the study of personal, home, and community health problems. . on sale by superintendent of documents, government printing office. price, c. . training for leadership in home-economics education. report of the national committee on advanced courses in vocational education. . on sale by superintendent of documents, government printing office. price, c. . plant and equipment for vocational classes in home economics. intended for the use of those responsible for determining plant and equipment for vocational schools and classes. . on sale by superintendent of documents, government printing office. price, c. . training supervisors of home-economics education. report of the national committee on advanced courses in vocational education. on sale by superintendent of documents, government printing office. price, c. . vocational education in home economics. twelve years of home economics under the national vocational education acts. on sale by superintendent of documents, government printing office. price, c. . the teaching of art related to the home. suggestions for content and method in related art instruction in the vocational program in home economics. . on sale by superintendent of documents, government printing office. price, c. . the teaching of science related to the home. suggestions for content and method in related science instruction in the vocational program in home economics. . (in press.) footnotes [footnote : whitford, william g., an introduction to art. preface xi. appleton series in education, .] [footnote : ibid., p. .] [footnote : national committee on wood utilization, united states department of commerce--furniture and its selection and use, by clark b. kelsey, p. .] [footnote : school and society, vol. xxx, no. .] [footnote : bobbitt, f. how to make a curriculum, pp. - . houghton, mifflin co. .] [footnote : whitford, william g., an introduction to art, pp. - . appleton series in education, .] [footnote : adapted from russell and wilson, art training through home problems. manual arts press. (in press.)] [footnote : federated council on art education. report of the committee on terminology (william g. whitford, chairman), p. , .] [footnote : goldstein, harriett and vetta, art in everyday life, p. . the macmillan co. .] [footnote : russell, m., and wilson, e., art training through home problems. manual arts press. (in press.)] [footnote : trilling, m. b., and williams, f., art in home and clothing, pp. - . the lippincott co. .] [footnote : federated council on art education. report of the committee on terminology, table v (william g. whitford, chairman), p. .] [footnote : federated council on art education. report of the committee on terminology (william g. whitford, chairman), p. .] [footnote : russell, m., and wilson, e., art training through home problems. manual arts press. (in press.) north dakota state department of education, a suggested outline for the content of a course in related art for high school girls. nebraska state department of education, suggested outline for content and methods in related art. home economics publication, serial no. .] [footnote : whitford, william g., an introduction to art, p. . appleton series in education, .] [footnote : russell, m., and wilson, e., art training through home problems. (chapter "creating an interest in everyday art.") manual arts press. (in press.)] [footnote : lancelot, w. h., handbook of teaching skills. john wiley & sons, .] [footnote : bobbitt, f. how to make a curriculum, p. . houghton-mifflin co., .] [footnote : morgan, a. b., elements of art and decoration, p. . the bruce publishing co. .] [footnote : whitford, william g., an introduction to art, p. . appleton series in education. .] [footnote : strebel and morehart, the nature and meaning of teaching, p. . mcgraw-hill book co. .] [footnote : lancelot, w. h., handbook of teaching skills. john wiley and sons. .] [footnote : lancelot, w. h., handbook of teaching skills. john wiley & sons. .] [footnote : goldstein, harriet and vetta, art in everyday life, p. . the macmillan co. .] [footnote : whitford, william g., an introduction to art, p. . appleton series in education. .] [footnote : refer to whitford, an introduction to art education, pp. - , for suggestive appreciation test in art. appleton series in education. .] [footnote : mumford, lewis, the american mercury, april, .] [footnote : a complete list of available publications relating to the work of other services of the federal board for vocational education may be obtained on request. address publications section of the board.] increasing personal efficiency women musical culture oratory self help some advice to young men _by_ russell h. conwell volume national extension university fifth avenue, new york observation--every man his own university copyright, , by harper & brothers printed in the united states of america _increasing personal efficiency_ i women some women may be superficial in education and accomplishments, extravagant in tastes, conspicuous in apparel, something more than self-assured in bearing, devoted to trivialities, inclined to frequent public places. it is, nevertheless, not without cause that art has always shown the virtues in woman's dress, and that true literature teems with eloquent tributes and ideal pictures of true womanhood--from homer's andromache to scott's ellen douglas, and farther. while shakespeare had no heroes, all his women except ophelia are heroines, even if lady macbeth, regan, and goneril are hideously wicked. in the moral world, women are what flowers and fruit are in the physical. "the soul's armor is never well set to the heart until woman's hand has braced it; and it is only when she braces it loosely that the honor of manhood fails." men will mainly be what women make them, and there can never be _entirely free men_ until there are _entirely free women_ with no special privileges, but with all her rights. the wife makes the home, the mother makes the man, and she is the creator of joyous boyhood and heroic manhood; when women fulfil their divine mission, all reform societies will die, brutes will become men, and men shall be divine. there are unkind things said of her in the cheaper writings of to-day--perhaps because their authors have seen her only in boarding-houses, restaurants, theaters, dance-halls, and at card-parties; and the poor, degraded stage with its warped mirror shows her up to the ridicule of the cheaper brood. the greatest writings and the greatest dramas of all time have more than compensated for all this indignity, and we have only to read deep into the great literature to be disillusioned of any vulgar estimations of womanhood, and to understand the beauty and power of soul of every woman who is true to the royalty of womanhood. there are few surer tests of a manly character than the estimation he has of women, and it is noteworthy that the men who stand highest in the esteem of both men and women are always men with worthy ideas of womanhood, and with praiseworthy ideals for their mothers, sisters, wives, and daughters. as men sink in self-respect and moral worth, their esteem of womanhood lowers. the women who become the theme for poets and philosophers and high-class playwrights are the women who have been bred mainly in the home. they seem without exception to abhor throngs, and only stern necessity can induce them to appear in them; the motherly, matronly, and filial graces appeal strongly to them--such as are portrayed in cornelia, portia, and cordelia. they may yearn for society, but it is the best society--for the "women whose beauty and sweetness and dignity and high accomplishments and grace make us understand the greek mythology, and for the men who mold the time, who refresh our faith in heroism and virtue, who make plato and zeno and shakespeare and all shakespeare's gentlemen possible again." if there is any inferiority in women, it is the result of environment and of lack of opportunity--never from lack of intelligence and other soul-powers. there is no sex in spiritual endowments, and woman seems entitled to all the rights of man--plus the right of protection. ruskin says, "we are foolish without excuse in talking of the superiority of one sex over the other; each has attributes the other has not, each is completed by the other, and the happiness of both depends upon each seeking and receiving from the other what the other can alone give." in speaking of the time when perfect manhood and perfect womanhood has come, tennyson says in "the princess": yet in the long years liker must they grow: the man be more of woman, she of man; he gain in sweetness and in moral height, nor lose the _wrestling_ thews that throw the world; she mental breadth, nor fail in childward care, nor lose the childlike in the larger mind. home is the true sphere for woman; her best work for humanity has always been done there, or has had its first impulse from within those four walls. it was home with all its duties that made the roman matron cornelia the type of the lofty woman of the world and the worthy mother. while it endowed her with the power to raise two sons as worthy as any known to history, who sacrificed their lives in defense of the roman poor, it also endowed her with courage to say to the second of her sons when he was leaving her for the battle which brought his death, "my son, see that thou returnest with thy shield or on it." napoleon claimed that it was the women of france who caused the loss at waterloo, not its men. "man's intellect is for speculation and invention, and his energy is for just war and just conquest; woman's intellect is for sweet ordering, arrangement, and decision; her energy is not for battle, but for rule." apparently relying upon man's magnanimity not to resent her abdicating her home, woman's exigencies--and perhaps her ambitions--have forced her more and more during the past fifty years into man's domains of speculation and energy--perhaps into some war and some conquest. the ever-increasing demand for her in these man-realms which she has invaded or into which she has intruded herself is abundant evidence that she has creditably acquitted herself in the betterment of business, education, and literature, as well as in the numberless things which she has invented to add beauty and comfort to the home, and to remove much of the bitter drudgery from house and office, and to promote the health and happiness of millions. all these helps she has given, even if she has undoubtedly lost some of the graces which have always made so lovable the woman of whom andromache, portia, and cordelia are but types. although matrimony and motherhood were the first conditions of women and only conditions that poets sing about and philosophers write about, and although these are still the conditions where she is doing her largest and noblest work in humanizing, yet her proper sphere is as man's, wherever she can live nobly and work nobly. how many myriads in this country alone are drudging or almost drudging in shops and offices to relieve the too stern pressure of pain or poverty from some one who is dear to them, yet are doing it unselfishly and uncomplainingly! a young woman lately told me that she had for several years been employed to interview women applicants for positions; that during these years she had interviewed scores of women daily, and had learned much of their private lives; that although the majority were working partly or entirely to maintain others, yet had she never heard one complaint of the sacrifices this service involved. hundreds of other women, like george eliot, charlotte brontë and helen hunt will long continue to bring pleasure and profit to millions through their writings. it is women, too, whose inventions have not only lightened domestic work and brightened the home, but also have so far removed the modern schoolroom from the little red schoolhouse of long ago; and it is women who have improved the books and the studies for children. they seem to have entered almost every activity outside of the home, and their finer powers of observation, aided by their innate love of the beautiful and the practicality they have learned while in service, seem mainly to have bettered conditions for wage-earners as well as for home and childhood. think of the thousands upon thousands in this land whose work with the smaller children of the school could never be so well done by men! think of the service daily rendered by women outside the home, and picture the confusion that would now arise if all these remained at home, even for one week! as a class, women do not speak so well as men, but they excel him as a talker. in truth it is less difficult for them to talk little, than to talk well. somebody has said that there is nothing a woman cannot endure if she can only talk. it is the woman who is ordained to teach talking to infancy. those who see short distances see clearly, which probably accounts for woman's being able to see into and through character so much better than men. a man admires a woman who is worthy of admiration. as dignity is a man's quality, loveliness is a woman's; her heart is love's favorite seat; women who are loyal to their womanhood can ever influence the gnarliest hearts. they go farther in love than men, but men go farther in friendship than women. women mourn for the lost love, says dr. brinton, men mourn for the lost loved-one. a woman's love consoles; a man's friendship supports. what a real man most desires in a woman is womanhood. as every woman despises a womanish man, so every man despises a mannish woman. men are more sincere with the women of most culture, although mere brain-women never please them so much as heart-women. men feel that it is the exceptional woman who should have exceptional rights; but they scorn women whose soul has shrunk into mere intellect, and a godless woman is a supreme horror to them. when to her womanly attributes she adds the lady's attributes of veracity, delicate honor, deference, and refinement, she becomes a high school of politeness for all who know her. "true women," says charles reade, "are not too high to use their arms, nor too low to cultivate their minds," but hamerton believes that her greatest negative quality is, that she does not of her own force push forward intellectually; that she needs watchful masculine influence for this. it is claimed that single women are mainly best comforters, best sympathizers, best nurses, best companions. dean swift says: "so many marriages prove unhappy because so many young women spend their time in making nets, not in making cages." perhaps this is why they say that, in choosing a wife, the ear is a safer guide than the eye. the gifts a gentlewoman seeks are packed and locked up in a manly heart. without a woman's love, a man's soul is without its garden. he is happiest in marriage who selects as his wife the woman he would have chosen as his bosom-companion, a happy marriage demands a soul-mate as for as a house-mate or a yoke-mate. spalding says that it is doubtful whether a woman should ever marry who cannot sing and does not love poetry. the conceptions of a wife differ. when the celt married, he put necklace and bracelets upon his wife; when the teuton married, he gave his wife a horse, an ox, a spear, and a shield. a true wife delights both sense and soul; with her, a man unfolds a mine of gold. like a good wine, the happiest marriages take years to attain perfection, and hamerton says that marriage is a long, slow intergrowth, like that of two trees closely planted in a forest. the marriage of a deaf man and a blind woman is always happy; but this does not imply that conjugal happiness is attained only under these conditions. the greatest merit of many a man is his wife, but no real woman ever wears her husband as her appendage. maternity is the loveliest word in the language, and every worthy mother is an aristocrat. mothers are the chief requisites of all educational systems, and the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world. the home has always been the best school in the world, and nothing else that is known to education can ever supersede it. the cradle is the first room in the school of life, and what is learned there lasts to the grave. dearth of real mothers is responsible for dearth of real education. each boy and each man is what his mother has made him, and every worthy mother rears her children to stand upon their own two feet, and to do without her. while a thoughtful wife and mother is busied with the affairs of home, she is never done with her intellectual education, for she realizes early in her career that a mother loses half her influence with her children when she ceases to be their intellectual superior. women are far more observant of little things than men, and the greatest among them have marvelous powers of observation. it is this power that made mrs. gladstone and mrs. disraeli the sturdy helpmates they were to their husbands in all their trying cares of government. it is said of gladstone that it was not unusual for him to adjourn a cabinet meeting through a desire "to consult with catherine." had there not been large power of observation, we should never have had the works of george eliot, charlotte brontë, jane austin, helen hunt, and all the other notable women creators of fiction. charlotte cushman was the greatest actress america has ever produced because her observation was so close that not the smallest detail of the character she played escaped her or was neglected. the beautifying of athens owes its inception to aspasia rather than to pericles. ii musical culture of all the arts, none is more difficult to define than music. no two persons seem to agree as to what it is, and a harsh sound to one is often sweet music to another. when music is controlled by those who use carefully their powers of observation, it will be vastly more useful to mankind. the need of music in the advancement of humanity it too apparent to admit of discussion. from the greek instrument with one string down to the wonderful pipe-organ, music has been intensely attractive and marvelously helpful, and for the good of the human family. no art or science needs more to be developed to-day than that of music. its influence on soul and body has been noticed and advanced by some of the greatest thinkers of ancient and modern times, therefore it is not necessary to discuss the supreme need for real music to bring into harmony motives and movements for good. when we duly consider the subject of music, and ask where we shall find the great musicians who are to-day so much in demand, we feel that many so-called schools of music are often more misleading than instructive, and that they follow fashions that are far more unreasonable than the fashions of dress. the art of music needs philosophic study, and it should be begun with a far better understanding of the many causes which contribute to its composition. the singing of birds is literally one of the most discordant expressions of sound. indeed, the tones of the nightingale and the meadow-lark are only shrill whistles when they are considered with reference only to the tones of their voice, yet they furnish the ideal of some of the richest music to which the ear has ever listened, being one part of the delicate orchestra of nature. the lowing of the cow, the bellow of the bull, the bark of an angry dog echoing among the hills at eventide, combined with so many other different sounds and impressions, has become enticingly sweet to the pensive listener. the insect-choir of night has as much of the calming and refining influences as the bird-choir of the morning. real music requires not only that the tones should be clear and resonant, but that they should be uttered amid harmonious surroundings. "dixie" and "yankee doodle," sung with a banjo accompaniment on a lawn in the evening, surrounded by gay companions, may be the most delightful music, which will start the blood coursing or rest the disturbed mind, but it would not be called music if sung at a funeral. "i know that my redeemer liveth" is glorious music when it is sung in a great cathedral, with echoes from its shadowy arches and the dim light of its stained-glass windows. but the same solo would be in awful discord with a ballroom jig. harmonious circumstances and appropriate environment are as essential for perfect effects in music as is the concord of sweet sounds. the foolish idea that music consists in screaming up to the highest c and growling down to the lowest b has misled many an amateur, and destroyed her helpfulness to a world that has far too much misery and far too little of the joy that comes from a sweet-voiced songster. the beginner in voice culture who attempts to wiggle her voice like a hired mourner, and with her tremulous effects sets the teeth of her audience on edge, has surely been misled into darkest delusion as to music, and will soon be lost amid the throng of vocal failures. extremists are out of place anywhere, but the myriads of them in the musical world make humanity shudder. what is needed in music to-day more than anything else is a standard of musical culture which shall demand careful discipline in all the influences that contribute to good music. true music is the music that always produces benign effects, the music that holds the attention of the auditor and permanently influences him to nobler thought, feeling, and action. those large-hearted, artistic-souled men and women who are capable of interpreting into feeling what they have heard from voice or instrument must be the final court of appeal. a trapeze performance in acoustics is not music. it has been frequently shown that music is potent in its effects upon the body as well as upon the soul. in , a notable illustration of the power of music over disease was given at the samaritan hospital, connected with temple university in philadelphia, although the experiments were made under disadvantageous circumstances and environment. the patients were informed what the physicians were endeavoring to do, and the efforts of the first few months were wasted for the most part. many of the patients who were placed under the influence of the music grew confident that they were going to be cured. while the recovery of some seemed miraculous, those who conducted the experiments felt that the healing might be largely due to the influence of the mind and not directly to the music. the matter was dropped for several months, until the patients were nearly all new cases. the doctors charged the nurses not to let the patients know for what cause the music was placed in the hospital. they eliminated also the personal influence of the nurses as well as the use of drugs at the time the music was produced. the experiment convinced those who conducted it that music has a powerful restorative effect even upon a person who is suffering from a combination of diseases. so many of the patients who recovered at that time from the influence of the music are alive and in good health to-day that common honesty disposes us to conclude that there is some undiscovered benefit in music which should be immediately investigated. this will never be attained by musical faddists or by selfish musicians who sing or perform for applause or money. some plain, every day-man or woman will ultimately be the apostle of music for the people, and the experiments at samaritan hospital furnish only a suggestion of the resources of music which must soon be known to the world. there was one patient in the hospital who had lost his memory through "softening of the brain." he lay most of the time unconscious, but occasionally talked irrationally upon all sorts of subjects. a quartet sang several pieces in his ward, but the nurses who sat upon each side of him noticed no effect whatever upon him until the quartet sang "my old kentucky home." then his eyes brightened and he began to hum the tune. before they had finished the third verse, he asked the nurse about the singing, and requested the quartet to repeat the song. his intelligence seemed completely normal for a little while after the music ceased. he asked and answered questions clearly, but soon relapsed into his incoherent talk and listlessness. when the man's lawyer heard of the effects upon the patient, he asked that the song might be sung while he was present, that he might then ask the patient about some very important papers of great value to the patient's family. as soon as the song was again sung by the quartet his intelligence returned. he informed the lawyer accurately as to the bank vault in which his box was locked, and told where he had left the keys in a private drawer of his desk. although the effect of the music was not permanent as to his case, many persons who know of it feel that some time music may be so applied as permanently to cure even such cases, if kept up for a sufficient length of time. accidents to the skull, heart diseases, nervous exhaustion, and spinal ailments seem especially amenable to music. two of the hospital cases of paralysis were permanently relieved by music. in one of these cases instrumental music seemed to produce a strong electric effect. while four violins were accompanied by an organ, the patient could use his feet and hands, but it was several weeks before he could walk without music. in the other case, vocal music put an insomnia patient to sleep, but after sleeping through the program, the patient was better; after a few trials he returned home. some of the hundred cases experimented upon were complete failures. but those conducting the experiments were convinced that the failure was attributable to the fact that they were unable to find the right kind of music. in the use of religious selections, "pleyel's hymn" made the patients of every ward worse; but "the dead march" from saul was soothing to typhoid patients. when this march was rendered softly, the nurses discovered that two cases had been so susceptible to the influences of the music that the physicians omitted the usual treatment and the patients recovered sooner than some other patients who had the disease in a less dangerous form. children were helped by a different class of music from that used with adults, and difference in sex also was noted. mothers who sing to their children may become the best investigators as to the power of vocal music on the healthy development of childhood. in the baptist temple, philadelphia, several hymns were once forcefully rendered by the great chorus of the church to a congregation of three thousand people. at the close, slips of paper were passed to the worshipers, and they were asked to write upon the paper what thoughts the music had suggested to them. while there was nothing in the anthems suggestive of youth, and the burden of the stanzas seemed to divert from childhood, yet more than half of the two thousand slips returned attested that the hearer had been reminded of his schooldays and of the games of childhood; these slips were collected before the congregation had time to confer. it shows that the music was not in accord with the words, and that it had greater power upon the mind than the words had. it proves that, to produce its highest effects, sacred music must harmonize with the meaning of the words and with the environment. it also shows that the purpose for which one sings is an important factor--random vociferations or a display of vocal gymnastics even of the most cultured kind is both inartistic and unmusical. these pages have been written to suggest that music is still with the common people; that the future blessings which mankind shall derive from musical art and science are probably dependent upon some observant person who is free from the trammels of misguided and misdirected culture, and who may come to it with an independent genius, and handle the subject in the light of every-day common-sense. iii oratory oratory has always been a potent influence for good. the printing-press with its newspapers and magazines and tens of thousands of books has done much during the past fifty years to draw attention away from oratory. the printing-press is a huge blessing, and has greatly advanced during these years that oratory has declined in public esteem or public attention. but we are learning that there is yet something in the _living_ man, in his voice and his manner and his mesmeric force, which cannot be expressed through the cold lead of type. hence the need for orators, both men and women, has been steadily increasing during the past few years, until there seems to be a pressing demand for the restoration of the science and the art of oratory. the country lad or the hard-working laborer or mechanic who thinks that public speaking is beyond his reach has done himself a wrong. it was such as they who oftener than can be told have become some of the greatest orators of history. men who afterward became great as effective debaters made their first addresses to the cows in the pasture, to the pigs in pens, to the birds in trees, and to the dog and the cat upon the hearth. they often drew lessons concerning the effects of their addresses from the actions of the animal auditors which heard their talk, and were attracted or repulsed by what they heard and saw. there is a mystery about public speaking. after years of study and application, some men cannot accomplish as much by their addresses as some uncultured laborer can do with his very first attempt. some have imperfectly called this power "personal magnetism." while this is mainly born with men and women--as the power of the true poet and the true teacher--yet it can be cultivated to a surprising degree. the schools of elocution so often seem to fail to recognize the wide gulf that exists between elocution and oratory. the former is an art which deals primarily with enunciation, pronunciation, and gesture; the work of the later science is persuasive--it has to do mainly with influencing the head and the heart. there is a law of oratory which does not seem to be understood or recognized by elocution teachers. the plow-boy in a debating society of the country school may feel that natural law, like daniel webster, without being conscious that he is following it. but there is a danger of losing this great natural power through injurious cultivation. the powerful speaker is consciously or unconsciously observant at all times of his audience, and he naturally adopts the tones, the gesture, and the language which attract the most attention and leave the most potent influence upon the audience. that is the law of all oratory, whether it applies to the domestic animals, to conversation with our fellows, to debates or addresses, lectures, speeches, sermons, or arguments. where the orator has not been misdirected or misled by some superficial teacher of elocution, his aim will be first "to win the favorable attention of his audience" and then to strongly impress them with his opening sentence, his appearance, his manners, and his subject. his reputation will have also very much to do with winning this favorable impression at first. the words of the speaker either drive away or attract, and the speaker endeavors at the outset to command the attention of the hearers, whether they be dogs or congregation. the beginner in oratory who is true to his instincts strives to adopt the methods which he feels will favorably impress those for whom he has a message. in his oration at the funeral of julius cæsar, mark anthony disarmed the enemies of cæsar and of himself by opening his oration with, "friends, romans, countrymen, lend me your ears. i come to bury cæsar, not to _praise_ him." almost any man or woman can become an orator of power by keeping himself or herself natural while talking. the second condition of a successful oration is the statements of the important facts or truths. cicero, the elder pitt, and edward everett held strictly to the statement of all the facts at the outset of their speech. facts and truths are the most important things in all kinds of oratory; as they are the most difficult to handle, the audience is more likely to listen to them at the opening of the talk, and they must be placed before the hearers clearly and emphatically, before the speaker enters upon the next division of his address. the third condition of a successful address is the argument, or reasoning which is used to prove the conclusion he wishes his hearers to reach. it is here that logic has its special place; it is at this vital point that many political speakers fail to convince the men they address. after he has thus reasoned, the natural orator makes his appeal, which is the _chief purpose_ of all true oratory. it is here where the orator becomes vehement, here where he shows all the ornament of his talk in appropriate figures of speech. the most effective orators are always those whose hearts are in strong sympathy with humanity, and whose sympathies are always aroused to plead for men. this is the condition that accounts for the eloquence--the power to arouse hearers--which characterizes men like logan, the american indian, and which characterizes many of the religious enthusiasts like peter the hermit, who have surprised the world and often moved them to mighty deeds. so long as our government depends upon the votes of the people, just so long must there be a stirring need of men and women orators to teach the principles of government and to keep open to the light of truth the consciences of the thousands and millions whose votes will decide the welfare or the misfortune of our nation. as the speaker must adapt himself and his message to all kinds of people, it is difficult to advise any one in certain terms how to accomplish this. it is another instance of the necessity of cultivating the daily habit of observation, and of being always loyal to our instincts. while schools and colleges have their uses, they are by no means a necessity for those who will accomplish great things through their oratory. many a man laden with a wealth of college accomplishment has been an utter failure on the platform. where reading-matter is as abundant and as cheap as it is in america, the poor boy at work upon the farm or in the factory, with no time but his evenings for study, may get the essentials of education, and by observing those who speak may give himself forms of oratorical expression that will enable him to outshine those with scholarship who have been led into fads. we must be impressed with a high sense of duty in becoming an orator of any class; we must feel that it is our calling to adhere to the truth always and in all things, to warn our hearers of dangers, and to encourage the good and help those who are struggling to be so. we must have a passion for oratory which shall impel us to vigorous thought and eloquent expression. the greatest oratory is that which is most persuasive. it is not so fully in what an orator says or the vehemence with which he says it that counts, but the practical good that results from it. many an oration has been elegant enough from its choice diction and labored phraseology, yet it has fallen flat upon the audience. when a man has been worked into natural passion over his theme, his words will strike root and inspire his hearers into similar passion. it is wonderful how true are our instincts in detecting what comes from the heart and that which is mere words. the greatest orators have been those who have not learned "by rote" what they have spoken. when lincoln broke away in his celebrated cooper institute address, and pictured the word freedom written by the lord across the skies in rainbow hues, the hearts of his audience stopped beating for the instant. it is foolhardy for any one to presume to speak with no preparation, for those who wish to give themselves to oratory should carefully study the great debaters, learn how they expressed themselves, and then accumulate important truths and facts concerning their subject. but we must not forget that too much study as to nicety of expression may lose something of the mountainous effects of what we wish to state. when an orator _feels_ his subject, his soul overflows with a thrill indescribable, which is known only to those who have felt it. genius is lifted free for the moment to fly at will to the mountain heights, and finds supreme delight therein. everything that is food for the mind is helpful to the orator, whether it come from school or work. but it is an attainment which can be reached by the every-day plain man employed in any every-day occupation. demosthenes, the greatest orator the world has yet known, found his school of oratory along the shore talking to the waves. john b. gough and henry clay and both the elder and the younger pitt gained all their powers by means as humble. the mere study of grammar has never yet made a correct speaker; the mere study of rhetoric has never yet made a correct and powerful writer; and the study of elocution cannot make an orator. grammar, rhetoric, and elocution may teach him only the laws which govern speech, writing, oratory, and leave him ignorant of the best methods of execution. during the last hundred years the leading orators of congress have mainly come from among the humble and the poor, and all the learning they had of their art was got in the schoolhouse, the shop, the fields, and the university of hard knocks. it is a calling that seems to be open to every man and woman of fair talent. if you desire to become a platform orator, read the lives of successful orators, and apply to yourself the means which helped them to distinction. but be vigilant not to lose your own individuality, and never strive to be any one but yourself. in no place more than upon the platform does _sham_ mean _shame_; nothing is more transparent. iv self-help although samuel smiles's "self-help" is the first and perhaps the best of the many inspirational books that have been written of late years, it is by far the most serviceable of all to any one who wishes and intends to stand squarely on his own feet and to fight his own battle of life from start to finish. that book is attractive because it is anecdotal of life and character, and because of the interest that all men feel in those who have achieved great things through their own labors, their trials, and their struggles. it abounds with references to men who were forced to be self-helpful, who were born lowly enough, but died among god's gentlemen, and often among the aristocracy of the land, through sheer force of character, labor, and determination. they have left their "footprints on the sands of time" mainly because they were _self-reliant_ and _self-helpful_. the aids to the royal life are all within, and no life is worthless unless its owner wills it; the fountain of all good is within, and it will bubble up, if we dig. doctor holland used to say that there is a super-abundance of inspiration in america, but a lamentable dearth of perspiration. aspiration plus perspiration carries men to dizzy heights of success; aspiration minus perspiration often lands them in the gutter. self-help is not selfishness. the duty of helping oneself in the highest sense always involves the duty of helping others. the self-helpful are not always the men who have achieved greatest success in what vulgarians call success. that man's life is a success which has attained the end for which he started out--the greatest failure may sometimes be the hugest success through the discipline it has afforded. they tell us that men never fail who die in a worthy cause; that it is nobler to have failed in a noble cause than to have won in a low one; that it is not failure, but low aim, that is wicked. god sows the seed and starts us all out with about the same quantity and the same quality; whether the crop shall be abundant depends upon the environment in which we grow and the way we take care of the field. the supreme end of each man's life is to take individual care of his own garden. when this is neglected his life is wasted, and there is no immorality that is comparable to the immorality of a wasted life--and every life is wasted unless its owner has made it yield its full capacity. if it is only a ten-bushel-an-acre field, he has done worthy work who has reaped ten bushels from an acre; if it is a seventy-bushel-an-acre field it is dishonorable to have reaped sixty-nine bushels from an acre. god gives us the chance; the improvement of it we give ourselves. the spirit of self-help is the root of all genuine growth. help from the outside may be convenient, but it enfeebles; all self-help invigorates. the self-helper must be self-reliant; the measure of his self-help is always proportioned to the measure of his self-reliance. the self-reliant does not consider himself as the creature of circumstances, but the architect of them. "all that adam had, all that cæsar could, we have had and can." the self-reliant and the self-helpful are the minority; the majority are forever looking toward and relying upon some government or some institution to do for them what they should only do for themselves. a real man wants no protection; so long as his human powers are left to him, he asks nothing more than the freedom to win his own battles. the best any government or any institution can do for men is to leave them as free as possible from either guidance or help, so that they may best develop and improve themselves. as it has been during the centuries, we put too much faith in government and other institutions, and too little in ourselves. men who count for something do not wait for opportunities from any source--they help themselves to their opportunities. they can win who believe they can, and the strong-hearted always ultimately achieve success. a nation is worth just what the individuals of that nation are worth, and the highest philanthropy and patriotism does not wholly consist in aiding institutions and enacting laws--especially the laws which teach men to lean--but they rather consist in helping men to improve themselves through their own self-help. there is no aid comparable to the aid that is given a man to help himself--we may stand him upon his feet, but remaining upon them should be his own task. he is a magnificent somebody who steadfastly refuses to hang upon others; and nothing brings the blush sooner to the true-hearted man, than to feel that he has been unnecessarily helped to anything by men or by governments. there is no man who rides through life so well as the man who has learned to ride by being set upon the bare-backed horse called self-dependence. paradise was not meant for cowards; self-reliance and self-help is the manliness of the soul. the solid foundations of all liberty rest upon individual character, and individual character is the only sure guaranty for social security and national progress. whatever crushes individuality is despotism, no matter by what other name you call it. the gods are always on the side of the man who relies on himself and helps himself; men's arms are long enough to reach stars, if they will only stretch them. it is so contrary to the spirit of our nation to be anything but self-helpful. "the flag of freedom cannot long float over a nation of deadheads; only those who determine to pay their way from cradle to grave have a right to make the journey." schiller says that the kind of education that perfects the human race is action, conduct, self-culture, self-control. it has been said that the individual is perfected far more by work than by reading, by action more than by study, by character more than by biography; these are courses that are given by the university of life more completely than in all other institutions known to men. the great men of science, literature, art, action--those apostles of great thoughts and lords of the great heart--belong to no special rank. they come from colleges, workshops, farms, from poor men's huts and rich men's mansions; but they all began with reliance upon themselves, and with an instinctive feeling that they must help themselves solely in climbing to the work or the station which they had assigned to themselves. many of god's greatest apostles of thought and feeling and action have come from the humblest stations, but the most insuperable difficulties have not long been obstacles to them. these greatest of difficulties are true men's greatest helpers--they stimulate powers that might have lain dormant all through life, but often have readily yielded to the stout and reliant heart. there is no greater blessing in the world than poverty which is allied to self-reliance and the spirit of self-help. "poverty is the northwind which lashes men into vikings." lord bacon says that men believe too great things of riches, and too little of indomitable perseverance. every nation that has a history has a long list of men who began life in the humblest stations, yet rose to high station in honor and service. no inheritance and environments can do for a man what he can do for himself. cook, the navigator, brindley, the engineer, and burns, the poet, are three men who began life as day laborers; the most poetic of clergymen, jeremy taylor; the inventor of the spinning-jenny and founder of cotton manufacture, sir richard arkwright; the greatest of landscape painters, turner, and that most distinguished chief-justice tenterden were barbers. ben jonson, the poet; telford, the engineer; hugh miller, the geologist; cunningham, the sculptor, were english stone-masons. inigo jones, the architect; hunter, the physiologist; romney and poie, the painters; gibson, the sculptor; fox, the statesman; wilson, the ornithologist; livingstone, the missionary--started life as weavers. admiral sir cloudesly shovel; bloomfield, the poet; carey, the missionary--were shoemakers. bunyan, was a tinker; herschel, a musician; lincoln, a rail-splitter; faraday, a book-binder; stephenson, the inventor of the locomotive, a stoker; watt, the discoverer of steam-power, a watchmaker; franklin, a printer; president johnson, a tailor; president garfield, an employee on a canal-boat; louisa alcott, both housemaid and laundress; james whitcomb riley, an itinerant sign-painter; thoreau, a man-of-all-work for emerson; the poets, keats and drake, as well as sir humphry davy, were druggists. benjamin thompson was a humble new hampshire schoolmaster whose industry, perseverance, and integrity, coupled to his genius and a truly benevolent spirit, ultimately made him the companion of kings and philosophers, count rumford of the holy roman empire. he declined to participate in the revolution, and was compelled to flee from his home in rumford, now concord (new hampshire), leaving behind his mother, wife, and friends; but this persecution by his countrymen led to his greatness. in the spring of general howe sent him to england with important despatches for the ministry. at once the english government appreciated his worth and scientific men sought his acquaintance. in less than four years after he landed in england he became under-secretary of state. in , he left england with letters to the elector of bavaria, who immediately offered him honorable employment which the english government permitted him to accept after he had been knighted by the king. in bavaria he became lieutenant-general, commander-in-chief of staff, minister of war, member of the council of state, knight of poland, member of the academy of science in three cities, commander-in-chief of the general staff, superintendent of police of bavaria, and chief of the regency during the sovereign's compulsory absence in . during his ten years' service he made great civil and military reforms and produced such salutary changes in the condition of the people that they erected a monument in his honor in the pleasure-grounds of munich, which he had made for them. when munich was attacked by an austrian army in , he conducted the defense so successfully that he was accorded the highest praise throughout europe. the bavarian monarch showed his appreciation by making him a count; he chose the title of count rumford as an honor to the birthplace of his wife and child. he ended his days at paris in literary and scientific studies and in the society of the most learned men of europe. the rumford professorship at harvard was very liberally endowed by him, and he gave five thousand dollars to the american academy of arts and sciences in . v some advice to young men a life is divine when duty is a joy. the best work we ever do is the work we get pleasure from doing, and the work we are likeliest to enjoy most is the work we are best fitted to do with our talent. there is nothing in the world except marriage that we should be slower in taking upon ourselves than our life-work; therefore, think much, read much, inquire much before you assume any life career. when you have once decided what is best fitted for you, pursue it ceaselessly and courageously, no matter how far distant it may be, how arduous the labor attending it, or how difficult the ascent. the greater the difficulty surmounted, the more you will value your achievement and the greater power you will have for keeping on with your work after you have reached your goal. do your utmost to find a friend who is older than you, and consult him freely, and give every man your ear, for the humblest in station and those with the most meager acquirements in other matters may see some few things more clearly than other men, and may be well stored with what you most require. take each man's advice, but act according to your own judgment. teachers should be the best advisers of those about to enter upon their life-work, and no service of the schoolmaster or professor can ever be more helpful to the young intrusted to him than that of helping them to choose a career. the best work real teachers do for their pupils is by no means the teaching of a few minor branches--it is almost always the work he is not paid for, and which nobody outside of those who realize what real education is, seems ever to consider. it is sympathy for their students, getting them to understand the great things that are involved in the process of getting an education, making them realize that true education means growth of all our spiritual faculties--head and heart and will, and that what we get from textbooks is the very least part of an education. it is helping them to understand that knowledge got from books and from schoolmasters is always a menace to a man whose spiritual faculties of head, heart, and will have not been thoroughly disciplined. it is wise counsel in choosing a life career. instead of looking upon this side of the work as divine, instead of being wise counselors and friendly guides during this great transitional stage from youth to manhood, teachers can be far more interested in their individual concerns or in what they call "research-work"--the research-work may give some temporary glory to themselves, and give some little advertisement to the institutions that employ them; but the supreme duty they owe to their students, to god, and to humanity is to do their utmost to make full men, and worthy and successful men, out of the youths whose education they have taken upon themselves. no traitor is such a traitor to his country and to the whole world as the man who is unfaithful to this sacred trust. once again, find some sincere and prudent elder counselor, and turn to him in all your difficulties. get advice as to the best books to read--a good book is the best of counselors, for it is the best of some good man; and it is a patient counselor whom we may continually consult upon the same subject as often as we wish. but waste no time, especially at the opening of your career, upon books which have no message for your manhood and no helpfulness in the work you shall assume for life. when you have once taken up a book as your counselor, don't put it aside until it has been thoroughly digested and assimilated. one book read is worth a hundred books peeped through; and of all the dilettantes, a literary dilettante is the most contemptible. bacon says, "some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, some few to be chewed and digested." but it is only the books that are to be chewed and digested that we can afford to peruse at the outset in our career; the literary pleasure--gardens--may come later in life. do your utmost to understand poetic expression, for the poets are the greatest teachers in the world as well as the greatest of all legislators. it is they who teach the great in conduct and the pure in thought. without education that shall enable us to take them as our friends, life bears upon it the stamp of death. the great poets are now the only truth-tellers left to god. they are free, and they make their lovers free; the great poet is nature's masterpiece. at the touch of his imagination words blossom into beauty. a true poet is the most precious gift to a nation, for he feels keenest the glorious duty of serving truth; he cannot strive for despotism of any kind, for it is still the instinct of all great spirits to be free. more than other authors, the poets make us self-forgetful, make life and the whole human race nobler in our eyes; all things are friendly and sacred to them, all days holy, all good men divine. there is very little worthy work nowadays that does not need some schooling that it may be well done. if you have an opportunity to give yourself this help, don't neglect it. carefully select the courses that will be most helpful to you in your career, and don't be side-tracked by any of what we sentimentalists term "culture studies." there's nothing better in the world than culture study, if we can afford it and have time for it. but there is not a greater or more wicked waste of valuable time than the time spent upon what some sentimentalists term culture study. when you have once taken up the studies you have decided upon, keep steadily to your course and shun diversions. recreations are as essential to the student who intends to do high-class work as food is to the body; but diversions disqualify him for earnest work, and may breed a habit of halfness that shall bring his failure. don't be foolish and hope to be great in many lines. who sips of many arts drinks none. in every vocation to-day competition is so keen that the man who will succeed must be content to be supreme in one thing alone. _halfness_ weakens all our spiritual powers, and thoroughness is the _central_ passion of all worthy characters. it is nobler to be confined to one calling, and to excel in that, than to dabble in forty. there is some odor about a dabbler that makes him especially offensive to all clean high-class men and women. but when we have formed the habit of doing carelessly other tasks than our life-work, we shall soon get into the way of doing carelessly the work of our chosen calling. there is nothing that gives us greater assurance that our life-work will be thoroughly done than to habituate ourselves to do the slightest task completely. sing the last note fully, make the last letter of your name complete. eat the last morsel deliberately. in a real man's life there are no trifles. whatever is worth doing by him is worth doing well. the many-sided edward everett attributed his being able to do so many things well to his early habit of doing even the least thing thoroughly. he used to say that he prided himself upon the way he tied up the smallest paper parcel. although schools may be very helpful, don't forget to emphasize again that they are merely helpers. the man is somebody only when the fight is won within himself. without the schools men have often reached the pinnacles of success, through their own individual earnestness and energy. schools make wise men wiser, but they may make fools greater fools than ever. if colleges have fallen somewhat into disrepute, it is largely due to the fact that we may have sent more fools than wise men to college. many a man has been the better for being too poor to attend school, like franklin, lincoln, peter cooper, and ten thousand other americans. their thirst for what books had to give them forced them to work harder and to deny themselves all the enjoyments that so vulgarize yet so charm the cheaper brood. all that is won by sacrifice and downright hard work is priceless, and many noble men and women who have risen to high honor and station owe their place and power solely to this. be always mindful that power is the only safe foundation for reputation. thoughtful americans are not concerning themselves about who your ancestors were, and whether or not they were graduated from some college. like doctor holmes, they feel that old families and old trees generally have their best parts underground, and that the only progressive is the man who is bigger in thought and feeling and accomplishment than his father was. they believe that it is unimportant where you buy your educational tools, if you are only doing good work with them. there is only one _true aristocracy in america_--those with more spiritual power and individual accomplishment than the rest of men. emerson says that "all the winds that move the vanes of universities blow from antiquity," and this is responsible for many foolish words and many fool acts of schoolmen which are so often misleading the unsuspecting public. nothing is more foolish than the idea that any schooling is worthless which is obtained in schools after the regular school hours; and more than one attempt has been made to enact laws which shall hinder from practice physicians and lawyers who have been obliged to get their knowledge through channels other than the conventional. the victory of the general does not depend upon the place where he got his military training or the time of the day when he studied. oliver cromwell, the greatest general of his day, was a farmer until his fortieth year, when he entered the army of the parliament against charles i. the only question that concerns the nation that puts a general at the head of its forces is, has he the powers that shall make us victorious? men in distress don't ask for the pedigree of the life-saver, nor do they stop to inquire when he graduated. don't be frightened off by sticklers for what is customary. knowledge is the right of the poorest boy and girl in america, and it can be had by the humblest in the land. be convinced of this and enter the race. the world steps aside and lets the man pass who knows where he is going; all the world will shout to clear the track when they see a determined giant is coming. in choosing your career, don't be limited to the old professions. there are to-day many more occupations calling for the highest skill and offering the highest inducements than there were twenty years ago, and these positions are steadily increasing. many occupations which were recently regarded almost as menial have risen almost to professions--cooking, agriculture, decorative art, forestry, nursing, sanitation, designing apparel, and countless others; and the men and women qualified for these are surer of better positions than formerly, and far better rewards. but the youth who is imbued with the determination to _be_ right and to _do_ right must never lose sight of this truth--that life is vastly more than place and meat and raiment. living for self is suicide; men that are men get far greater enjoyment and far greater reward from making life a blessing for those who come their way than they get from all other things combined. no man lives so truly for himself as he who lives for other people, and one of the chiefest purposes of education is that it gives larger views of life and adds greater power to serve humanity. the man who is really in earnest to make his life count is studiously observant. each day and each place multiplies his means of happiness for himself and others. the end the key to success observation:--the key to success who the real leaders are mastering natural forces whom mankind shall love need of orators woman's influence _by_ russell h. conwell volume national extension university fifth avenue, new york observation--every man his own university copyright, , by harper & brothers printed in the united states of america foreword people are thinking, but they can think much more. the housewife is thinking about the chemical changes caused by heat in meats, vegetables, and liquids. the sailor thinks about the gold in sea-water, the soldier thinks of smokeless powder and muffled guns; the puddler meditates on iron squeezers and electric furnaces; the farmer admires luther burbank's magical combinations in plant life; the school-girl examines the composition of her pencil and analyses the writing-paper; the teacher studies psychology at first hand; the preacher understands more of the life that now is; the merchant and manufacturer give more attention to the demand. yes, we are all thinking. but we are still thinking too far away; even the prism through which we see the stars is near the eyes. the dentist is thinking too much about other people's teeth. this book is sent out to induce people to look at their own eyes, to pick up the gold in their laps, to study anatomy under the tutorship of their own hearts. one could accumulate great wisdom and secure fortunes by studying his own finger-nails. this lesson seems the very easiest to learn, and for that reason is the most difficult. the lecture, "the silver crown," which the author has been giving in various forms for fifty years, is herein printed from a stenographic report of one address on this general subject. it will not be found all together, as a lecture, for this book is an attempt to give further suggestion on the many different ways in which the subject has been treated, just as the lecture has varied in its illustrations from time to time. the lecture was addressed to the ear. this truth, which amplifies the lecture, is addressed to the eye. i have been greatly assisted, and sometimes superseded, in the preparation of these pages by prof. james f. willis, of philadelphia. bless him! my hope is by this means to reach a larger audience even than that which has heard some of the things herein so many times in the last forty-five years. we do not hope to give or sell anything to the reader. he has enough already. but many starve with bread in their mouths. they spit it out and weep for food. humans are a strange collection. but they can be induced to think much more accurately and far more efficiently. this book is sent out as an aid to closer observation and more efficient living. russell h. conwell. _september ._ russell h. conwell[ ] an autobiography! what an absurd request! if all the conditions were favorable, the story of my public life could not be made interesting. it does not seem possible that any will care to read so plain and uneventful a tale. i was a young man, not yet of age, when i delivered my first platform lecture. the civil war of - drew on with all its passions, patriotism, horrors, and fears, and i was studying law at yale university. i had from childhood felt that i was "called to the ministry." the earliest event of memory is the prayer of my father at family prayers in the little old cottage in the hampshire highlands of the berkshire hills, calling on god with a sobbing voice to lead me into some special service for the saviour. it filled me with awe, dread, and fear, and i recoiled from the thought, until i determined to fight against it with all my power. so i sought for other professions and for decent excuses for being anything but a preacher. yet while i was nervous and timid before the class in declamation and dreaded to face any kind of an audience, i felt in my soul a strange impulsion toward public speaking which for years made me miserable. the war and the public meetings for recruiting soldiers furnished an outlet for my suppressed sense of duty, and my first lecture was on the "lessons of history." that matchless temperance orator and loving friend, john b. gough, introduced me to the little audience in westfield, massachusetts, in . what a foolish little school-boy speech it must have been! but mr. gough's kind words of praise, the bouquets, and the applause, made me feel that somehow the way to public oratory would not be so hard as i had feared. from that time i acted on mr. gough's advice and "sought practice" by accepting almost every invitation i received to speak on any kind of a subject. while i was gaining practice in the first years of platform work, i had the good fortune to have profitable employment as a soldier, or as a correspondent or lawyer, or as an editor, or as a preacher, which enabled me to pay my own expenses, and it has been seldom in the fifty years that i have ever taken a fee for my personal use. in the last thirty-six years i have dedicated solemnly all the lecture income to benevolent enterprises. if i am antiquated enough for an autobiography, perhaps i may be aged enough to avoid the criticism of being an egotist when i state that some years i delivered one lecture, "acres of diamonds," over two hundred times each year, at an average income of about one hundred and fifty dollars for each lecture. often have i been asked if i did not, in fifty years of travel in all sorts of conveyances, meet with accidents. it is a marvel to me that no such event ever brought me harm. in a continuous period of over twenty-seven years i delivered about two lectures in every three days, yet i did not miss a single engagement. sometimes i had to hire a special train, but i reached the town on time, with only a rare exception, and then i was but a few minutes late. accidents have preceded and followed me on trains and boats, and were sometimes in sight, but i was preserved without injury through all the years. in the johnstown flood region i saw a bridge go out behind our train. i was once on a derelict steamer on the atlantic for twenty-six days. at another time a man was killed in the berth of a sleeper i had left half an hour before. often have i felt the train leave the track, but no one was killed. yet this period of lecturing has been, after all, a side issue. the temple, and its church, in philadelphia, which, when its membership was less than three thousand members, for so many years contributed through its membership over sixty thousand dollars a year for the uplift of humanity, have made life a continual surprise; while the samaritan hospital's amazing growth, and the garretson hospital's dispensaries, have been so continually ministering to the sick and poor, and have done such skilful work for the tens of thousands who ask for their help each year, that i have been happy while away lecturing by the feeling that each hour and minute they were faithfully doing good. temple university, which was founded only twenty-seven years ago, has already sent out into a higher income and nobler life nearly a hundred thousand young men and women who could not probably have obtained an education in any other institution. the faithful, self-sacrificing faculty, now numbering two hundred and fifty-three professors, have done the real work. for that i can claim but little credit; and i mention the university here only to show that my "fifty years on the lecture platform" has necessarily been a side line of work. my best-known lecture, "acres of diamonds," was a mere accidental address, at first given before a reunion of my old comrades of the forty-sixth massachusetts regiment, which served in the civil war, and in which i was captain. i had no thought of giving the address again, and even after it began to be called for by lecture committees i did not dream that i should live to deliver it, as i now have done, almost five thousand times. "what is the secret of its popularity?" i could never explain to myself or others. i simply know that i always attempt to enthuse myself on each occasion with the idea that it is a special opportunity to do good, and i interest myself in each community and apply the general principles with local illustrations. russell h. conwell. south worthington, massachusetts, _september , _. * * * * * [footnote : these pages are taken from an autobiographical chapter in doctor conwell's previous book, _acres of diamonds_, published by harper & brothers.] observation:--every man his own university i observation--the key to success years ago we went up the ganges river in india. i was then a traveling correspondent, and we visited argra, the sacred city of northern india, going thence to the taj mahal. then we hired an ox team to take us across country twenty-two miles to visit the summer home of ackba, the great mogul of india. that is a wonderful, but dead city. i have never been sorry that i traversed that country. what i saw and heard furnished me with a story which i have never seen in print. _harper's magazine_ recently published an illustrated article upon the city, so that if you secure the files you may find the account of that wonderful dead city at futtepore sicree. as we were being shown around those buildings the old guide, full of eastern lore, told us a tradition connected with the ancient history of that place which has served me often as an illustration of the practical ideas i desire to advance. i wrote it down in the "hen tracks" of short-hand which are now difficult to decipher. but i remember well the story. he said that there was a beautiful palace on that spot before the great mogul purchased it. that previous palace was the scene of the traditional story. in the palace there was a throne-room, and at the head of that room there was a raised platform, and upon the platform was placed the throne of burnished gold. beside the throne was a pedestal upon which rested the wonderful crown of silver, which the emperor wore when his word was to be actual law. at other times he was no more than an ordinary citizen. but when he assumed that crown, which was made of silver because silver was then worth much more than gold, his command was as absolute as the law of the medes and persians. the guide said that when the old king who had ruled that country for many years died he was without heirs, leaving no person to claim that throne or to wear that crown of silver. the people, believing in the divine right of kings, were unwilling to accept any person to rule who was not born in the royal line. they wasted twelve years in searching for some successor, some relative of the late king. at last the people sank into anarchy, business ceased, famine overspread the land, and the afflicted people called upon the astrologers--their priests--to find a king. the astrologers, who then worshiped the stars, met in that throne-room and, consulting their curious charts, asked of the stars: "where shall we find a successor to our king?" the stars made to them this reply: "look up and down your country, and when you find _a man whom the animals follow, the sun serves, the waters obey, and mankind love_, you need not ask who his ancestors were. this man will be one of the royal line entitled to the throne of gold and the crown of silver." the astrologers dispersed and began to ask of the people: "have you seen a man whom the animals follow, the sun serves, the waters obey, and mankind love?" they were only met with ridicule. at last, in his travels, one gray old astrologer found his way into the depths of the himalaya mountains. he was overtaken by a december storm and sought shelter in a huntsman's cottage on the side of a mountain. that night, as he lay awake, weeping for his suffering and dying people, he suddenly heard the howl of a wild beast down the valley. he listened as it drew nearer. he detected "the purr of the hyena, the hiss of the tiger, and the howl of the wolf." in a moment or two those wild animals sniffed at the log walls within which the astrologer lay. in his fright he arose to close the window lest they should leap in where the moonlight entered. while he stood by the window he saw the dark outline of his host, the huntsman, descending the ladder from the loft to the floor. the astrologer saw the huntsman approach the door as though he were about to open it and go out. the astrologer leaped forward, and said: "don't open that door! there are tigers, panthers, hyenas, and wolves out there." the huntsman replied: "lie down, my friend, in peace. these are acquaintances of mine." he flung open the door and in walked tiger, panther, hyena, and wolf. going to the corner of his hut, the huntsman took down from a cord, stretched across the corner, the dried weeds which he had gathered the fall before because he _had noticed_ that those weeds were antidotes for poisoned wild animals. those poisoned animals had sniffed the antidote from afar and gathered at his door. when he opened that door they followed him to the corner of the hut, in peace with one another because of their common distress. he fed each one the antidote for which it came, and each one licked his hand with thanks and turned harmlessly out the door. then the huntsman closed the door after the last one, and went to his rest as though nothing remarkable had happened. this is the fabulous tradition as it was told me. when the old astrologer lay down on his rug after the animals were gone, he said to himself, "the animals follow him," and then he caught upon the message of the stars and said, "it may be this huntsman is the king," but on second thought he said, "oh no; he is not a king. how would he look on a throne of gold and wearing a crown of silver--that ignorant, horny-handed man of the mountains? he is not the king." the next morning it was cold and they desired a fire, and the huntsman went outside and gathered some leaves and sticks. he put them in the center of the hut upon the ground floor. he then drew aside a curtain which hid a crystal set in the roof, which he had placed there because he _had noticed_ that the crystal brought the sunlight to a focused point upon the floor. then the astrologer saw, as that spot of light approached the leaves and sticks with the rising of the sun, the sticks began to crackle. then the leaves began to curl, little spirals of smoke arose, and a flame flashed forth. as the astrologer looked on that rising flame, he said to himself: "the sun has lit his fire! the sun serves him; and the animals followed him last night; after all, it may be that he is the king." but on second thought he said to himself again: "oh, he is not the king; for how would i look with all my inherited nobility, with all my wealth, cultivation, and education, as an ordinary citizen of a kingdom of which this ignorant fellow was a king? it is far more likely to be me." a little later the astrologer desired water to drink, and he applied to the huntsman, and the huntsman said, "there is a spring down in the valley where i drink." so down to the spring went the astrologer. but the wind swept down and roiled the shallow water so that he could not drink, and he went back and complained of that muddy water. the huntsman said: "is that spring rebellious? i will teach it a lesson." going to another corner of his hut, he took down a vial of oil which he himself had collected, and, going down to the spring with the vial of oil, he dropped the oil upon the waters. of course, the surface of the spring became placid beauty. as the astrologer dipped his glittering bowl into the flashing stream and partook of its cooling draught, he felt within him the testimony, "this is the king, for the waters obey him!" but again he hesitated and said, "i hope he is not the king." the next day they went up into the mountains, and there was a dam holding back, up a valley, a great reservoir of water. the astrologer said, "why is there a dam here with no mill?" and the huntsman said: "a few years ago i was down on the plains, and the people were dying for want of water. my heart's sympathies went out for the suffering and dying humanity, and when i came back here _i noticed_...." i may as well stop here in this story and emphasize this phrase. he said, "when i came back here _i noticed_." this is the infallible secret of success. i wish you to be happy; i wish you to be mighty forces of god and man; i wish you to have fine homes and fine libraries and money invested, and here is the only open road to them. by this road only have men who have won great success traveled. the huntsman said: "when i came back here _i noticed_ a boulder hanging on the side of the mountain. _i noticed_ it could be easily dislodged, and _i noticed_ that it would form an excellent anchorage in the narrow valley for a dam. _i noticed_ that a small dam here would hold back a large body of water in the mountain. i let the boulder fall, filled in for the dam, and gathered the water. now every hot summer's day i come out and dig away a little more of the dam, and thus keep the water running in the river through the hot season. then, when the fall comes on, i fill up the dam again and gather the waters for the next year's supply." when the astrologer heard that he turned to the huntsman and said: "do mankind down on the plains know that you are their benefactor?" "oh yes," said he; "they found it out. i was down there a little while ago, selling the skins i had taken in the winter, and they came around me, kissed me, embraced me, and fairly mobbed me with their demonstrations of gratitude. i will never go down on the plains again." when the astrologer heard that _mankind loved him_, all four conditions were filled. he fell upon his knees, took the horny hand of the huntsman, looked up into his scarred face, and said: "thou art a king born in the royal line. the stars did tell us that when we found a man whom the animals followed, the sun served, the waters obeyed, and mankind loved, he would be the heir entitled to the throne, and thou art the man!" but the huntsman said: "i a king! oh, i am not a king! my grandfather was a farmer!" the astrologer said: "don't talk about your grandfather. that has nothing to do with it. the stars told us thou art the man." the huntsman replied: "how could i rule a nation, knowing nothing about law? i never studied law!" then the astrologer cut short the whole discussion with a theological dictum quoted from the ancient sacred books, which i will give in a very literal translation: "let not him whom the stars ordain to rule dare disobey their divine decree." now i will put that into a phrase a little more modern: "never refuse a nomination!" when the huntsman heard that very wise decision he consented to be led down to the juna valley and to the beautiful palace. there they clothed him in purple. then, amid the acclaim of happy and hopeful people, they placed upon his brow that badge of kingly authority--the silver crown. for forty years after that, so the old guide said to us, he ruled the nation and brought it to a peace and prosperity such as it had never known before and has never enjoyed since. that wonderful tradition, so full of illustrative force, has remained with me all the subsequent years. when i look for a man to do any great work, i seek one having these four characteristics. if he has not all four he must have some of them, or else he is good for little in modern civilization. ii who the real leaders are among all of you who read this book i am looking for the kings and queens. i am looking for the successful men and women of the future. no matter how old you may be, you yet have life before you. i am looking for the leading men and women, and i will find them with these four tests. i cannot fail; it is infallible. some men, intensely american, will say: "oh, we don't have any kings or queens in this country." did you ever observe that america is ruled by the least number of people of any nation known on earth? and that same small number will rule it when we add all the women, as we soon shall, to the voting population. america is ruled by a very few kings and queens. the reason why we are ruled by so few is because our people are generally intelligent. "oh," you will ask, "do you mean the political boss rule?" yes. that is not a good word to use, because it is misleading. america is ruled by bosses, anyhow, and it will be so long as we are a free people. we do not approve of certain phases of boss rule, and so don't misunderstand me when i state that a very few persons govern the american people. in my home city, philadelphia, for instance, nearly two millions of people are ruled by four or five men. it will always be so. everything depends on whether those four or five men are fitted for the place of leaders or not. if they are wise men and good men, then that is the best kind of government. there is no doubt about it. if all the eighty or ninety millions of people in the united states were compelled to vote on every little thing that was done by the government, you would be a long time getting around to any reform. an intelligent farmer would build a house. will he, as a farmer, go to work and cut out that lumber himself, plane it himself, shape it himself? will he be the architect of the house, drive all the nails, put on the shingles, and build the chimney himself? if he is an intelligent man he will hire a carpenter, an architect, and a mason who understand their business, and tell them to oversee that work for him. in an intelligent country we can hire men who understand statesmanship, law, social economics, who love justice. we hire them as skilled people to do what we are not able to do. why should all the people be all the time meddling with something they don't understand? they employ people who do understand it, and consequently, in a free nation a few specially fitted people will ever be allowed to guide. they will be the people who know better than we know what to do under difficult or important circumstances. you are ruled by a few people, and i am looking for these few people among my readers. there are some women in this country who now have more influence than any known statesman, and their names are hardly mentioned in the newspapers. i remember once, in the days of queen victoria, asking a college class, "who rules england?" of course, they said, "queen victoria." did queen victoria rule england? during her nominal reign england was the freest land on the face of the earth, and america not half as free if you go to the extremes of comparison. she was only a figurehead, and she would not even express an opinion on the boer war. it was all left to the statesmen, who had really been selected by the parliament to rule. they were the real rulers. i am looking for the real kings, not the nominal ones, and i shall find the successful men and women of the future by the four tests mentioned in the old tradition of the silver crown. the first one is: "animals will follow them." if a dog or cat tags your heels to-morrow remember what i am writing about it here. it is evidence of kingship or queenship. if you don't have a cat or dog or an ox or a horse to love you, then i pity you. i pity the animal the most, but you are also a subject of sympathy. is there no lower animal that loves to hear your footstep, whines after your heels, or wags the tail or shakes the head at your door? is there no cat that loves to see you come in when the house has been vacant? is there no faithful dog that rises and barks with joy when he hears your key in the door? if you have none it is time you had one, because one of the important pathways to great success is along the line of what animal life can give to us of instruction and encouragement. the time has come when a dog ought to be worth at least a thousand dollars. the time has come when a horse that now trots a mile in : or : ought to trot a mile in fifty-five seconds. that is scientifically possible. now, where are your deacons and your elders and your class leaders that you haven't a horse in your city that will trot a mile in fifty-five seconds? "oh," says some good, pious brother, "i don't pay any attention to trotting-horses! i am too religious to spend time over them." is that so? who made the trotting-horse? who used the most picturesque language on the face of the earth, in the book of job, to describe him? did you ever own a trotting-horse? did you ever see a beautiful animal so well fed, so well cared for, trembling on that line with his mane shaking, his eyes flashing, his nostrils distended, and all his being alert for the leap? and did you hear the shot and see him go? if you did and didn't love him, you ought to be turned out of the church. the time has come when a horse may be as useful as a university. at yale university, one day, i heard a professor of science tell those boys that a horse has within its body so much galvanic or electric force continually generated by the activities of life, that if that electricity could be concentrated and held to a certain point, a horse could stand still and run a forty-horse power electric engine. he went further than that and said that a man has within his living body sufficient continually generated electricity which, if it were brought to a point, might enable him to stand still and run a ten-horsepower electric engine. i went out of that class-room with a sense of triumph, thinking: "there is going to be use, after all, for the loafers who stand on the corners and smoke!" in europe, some years ago, a sewing-machine was invented on which a lady put her bare feet, and her electric forces started the machine. this power does not yet run the machine strong enough to force the needle for real sewing. the only question is to get more of the electricity of that lady through the machine and secure the greater power. then if a young man wants a valuable wife he must marry one "full of lightning." the time is very near at hand when all the motive power of the world may be furnished by animal life. when they get one step further the greatest airships will go up and take with them a lap dog. the airship will require no coal, no oil, but just the electric force of that lap dog; and if they carry up enough to feed that dog he will furnish the power to run the motors. the great high seas of the air will be filled with machines run by lap dogs or the electricity of the aviator himself. it is not so far away as many of you may suppose, and it is the greatly needed improvement of this time, not so much for the purpose of the war, as for peace. the time has come when an old hen may become a great instructor of the world. i would rather send my child to an old hen than to any professor i ever saw in my life. that old biddy which scratches around your door, or who cackles beside your fence, or picks off your flowers, knows more of some things than any scientific professor on the face of the earth. i wish i knew what that old hen does. but there are some professors who pretend to have a wonderful intellect, who say: "i graduated from leipsic or from oxford or harvard, and i have no time to observe a hen." no time to notice a hen? my friend, did you ever try to talk with her? "no, i did not; she has no language." didn't you ever hear her call the chickens and see them come? didn't you ever hear her scold the rooster, and see him go? well, a hen does have a real language, and it is time you scientific professors understood what that old biddy says. "oh, but," says the professor, "i have no time to spend with a hen! they are around the place all the time, but i never take any special notice of them. i am studying the greater things in the world." "won't you come into my study a minute, professor, and let me examine you? you have examined the boys long enough, now let me examine you. "bring all you know of science and all the scientific applications ever made, and all the instruments that are ever used, bring all that the world has ever discovered of chemistry. come, and take in your hand a dove's egg, just the egg. now, professor, will you tell the person who is reading this book where, in this egg, is now the beating heart of the future bird? can you tell where it is?" "oh no, i cannot tell that. i can tell you the chemistry of the egg." "no, i am not looking for that. i am looking for the design in the egg. i am looking for something more divinely mysterious than anything of chemistry. now, professor, will you tell me where in that egg is the bony frame that next will appear?" "no, i cannot tell you that." "where is the sheening bosom, and where the wings that shall welcome the sun in its coming?" "no man can tell that," says the professor. the professor is quite right. it cannot yet be told. yet, in that egg is the greatest scientific problem with which the world has ever grappled--the beginning of life and the god-given design. in that egg is the secret of life. professor, tell me where this life begins. the professor says, "no man can answer questions like that." then, until we can answer, we must take off our hats every time we meet a setting hen. for that old biddy knows by instinct more about it than any one of us. she knows directly, through her instinctive nature from god, something about the beginnings of life that we cannot understand yet. the last time i saw dr. oliver wendell holmes, the grand poet of massachusetts, he asked me to go out in his back yard and see his chickens. he told me they would answer to their names. but it turned out that they were like our children, and would not show off before company. but i haven't any doubt those little chickens still with the hen did answer to their individual names when she alone called them. i am sure that great man understood the hen and chickens as fully as darwin did the doves. it was a wonderful thing for science that men like holmes and darwin could learn so much from the hen. it reminds me of a current event in doctor holmes's own life, though the biographies do not seem to have taken notice of it. he and mr. longfellow were very intimate friends. they were ever joking each other like two boys, always at play whenever they met. one day, it is said, doctor holmes asked mr. longfellow to go down to bridgewater, in massachusetts, to a poultry show. he went; he was greatly interested in chickens. those two great poets went down to the poultry show, and as they walked up the middle passageway between the exhibits of hens and chickens they came to a large poster on which was a picture of a rooster. he had his wings spread and mouth open, making a speech to a lot of little chickens. it was such a unique picture that mr. longfellow called doctor holmes's attention to it, and said: "there, you love chickens, you understand them. what do you suppose a rooster does say when he makes a speech to chickens like that?" they went on, and doctor holmes was studying over it. finally he turned around and said, "go on, i will catch up with you." he went back to that poster, got up on a chair, took the tacks out of the top, turned in the advertisement at the top, above the picture, and then took his pencil and drew a line from the bill of the rooster that was making that speech up to the top. there he wrote what he thought that rooster was saying to those chickens. they say that he did not make a single correction in it, of line or word. he then went after mr. longfellow and brought the great poet back to see the poster. he had written these words, in imitation of longfellow's "psalm of life": life is real, life is earnest! and the shell is not its pen; egg thou art, and egg remainest, was not spoken of the hen, art is long, and time is fleeting, be our bills then sharpened well, and not like muffled drums be beating, on the inside of the shell. in the world's broad field of battle, in the great barnyard of life, be not like those lazy cattle! be a rooster in the strife! lives of roosters all remind us, we can make our lives sublime, and when roasted, leave behind us hen tracks on the sands of time. hen tracks that perhaps another chicken drooping in the rain, some forlorn and hen-pecked brother, when he sees, shall crow again. animal life can do much for us if we will but study it, take notice of it daily in our homes, in the streets, wherever we are. iii mastering natural forces it has been demonstrated by science that the mentality and disposition of all kinds of animal life are greatly affected by what they eat. professor virchow, of germany, took two little kittens and fed them on different foods, but kept them in the same environment. after three months he went in and put out his finger at one of those little kittens, and it stuck up its back and spit and scratched and drew the blood. it was savage. he put out his finger to the other kitten, fed on the other food, and it rubbed against his finger and purred with all the loveliness of domestic peace. what was the difference between the kittens? nothing in the world but what they ate. now i can understand why some men swear and some women scratch. it is what they eat. the universities of the world are now establishing schools of domestic science for the purpose of training people to understand the chemistry of digestion and the chemistry of cooking. oh, there is an awful need of better cooks! yet the fashionable aristocratic american lady thinks it is altogether beneath her dignity to cook a pie or pudding, or boil potatoes. how short sighted that is! the need of better cooks is great. how many a man fails in business because his wife is a poor cook. how many a student is marked down because of the bad biscuit in the boarding-house. oh yes, and how many a grave in yonder cemetery would be empty still if there had been a good cook in that house. i have grappled with an awful subject now--the need of better cooks. a man can't even be pious with the dyspepsia. the american lady, so called, who sits in the parlor amid the lace curtains and there plies her needle upon some delicate piece of embroidery, and commits the wonderful chemistry of the kitchen to the care of some girl who doesn't know the difference between a frying-pan and a horse-rake, is not fit to be called an american lady. any fool could sit amid the curtains, but it takes a giant mind to handle the chemistry of the kitchen. if women forsake that throne of power, men must take it, or our civilization must cease. but i will not follow this thought into the thousands of discoveries animals suggest, because, in this wonderful tradition, the real king was not only followed by animals, but "the sun served him, and the waters obeyed him." now i can combine those two thoughts for illustration, using the wonderful locomotive which draws our railway trains. the locomotive has within it the coal, which is the carbon of the sun. thus the sun serves man by heating the water; and there is the water changing to steam and driving the piston-rods over the land, obeying man. we need so much to travel faster than we do now. i saw a man not long ago who said he did not like to travel a mile a minute in a railway train. if you don't go faster than a mile a minute ten years from now you will feel like that old lady who got in a slow train with a little girl. the conductor came through and asked for a ticket for the little girl, and the old lady said: "she is too young to pay her fare." "no," said the conductor. "a great girl like that must pay her fare." "well," the mother replied, "she was young enough to go for nothing when we got in this train." you will feel like that if you don't travel faster than a mile a minute ten years from now. the time is soon coming when, in order to go from philadelphia to san francisco, you will get in the end of a pipe or on a wire, and about as quick as you can say "that" you will be in san francisco. is that an extravagant expression? the time draws nigh when you won't say that is an extravagant expression. as i am writing this a company to lay that long-contemplated pneumatic tube from new york to boston is being formed. they have been fighting in the courts over the right to lay it. when they finish it you can put a hundredweight of goods in the new york end of it, and it will possibly land in boston in one minute and fifty-eight seconds. now, then, what is to hinder making a little larger pipe and putting a man in and sending him in one minute and fifty-eight seconds? the only reason why you cannot send them with that lightning speed is for the same reason, perhaps, that the irishman gave when he fell from a tall building and they asked, "didn't the fall hurt you?" "no, it was not the falling that hurt me, it was the stopping so quick." that is all the difficulty there is in using now those pneumatic tubes for human travel. we need those inventions now. we are soon going to find the inventors. will you find them graduating from some university, or from some great scientific school at harvard, yale, oxford, or berlin? it may be. i would not say, while presiding over a university myself, that you would not find such people there. perhaps you will. but come back in history with me a little way and let us see where these men and women are to be found. go into northern england, and go down a coal shaft underground two miles, and there is a young man picking away at a vein of coal a foot and a half thick. his hair sticks out through his hat, his face is besmirched, his fingers are covered with soot. yet he is digging away and whistling. is he a king? one of the greatest the world has ever seen. queen victoria, introducing her son, who has since been king, to that young man, said to him: "i introduce you, my son, to england's greatest man." what! this poor miner, who has never been to school but a few months in his life? while he had not been to a day school, he had been learning all the time in the university of experience, in the world's great university--_every-day observation_. when such a man graduates he gets the highest possible degree--d.n.r.--"don't need recommends." let us go in the mine and ask the miner his name. "young man, what is your name?" "stevenson." the inventor of the locomotive itself! oh, where are thy kings, oh, men? they may be in the mine, on the mountain, in the hovel or the palace, wherever a man notices what other people have not seen. wherever a man observes in his every-day work what other people have not noticed, there will be found the king. are any of my readers milkmen? are you discouraged when the brooks freeze up in the winter? now, there was a milkman in west virginia, not many years ago, who went to the train every morning with the milk from the farm, and while they were putting the milk in the car he studied the locomotive standing in the station. "what do you know about a locomotive?" "oh, i don't know anything about it." is that so? you have seen and ridden after them all your lifetime, and you have seen them standing in the station, you have looked at the immense structure with some respect, but you don't know anything about it--and then you expect to be a successful man! that young man became interested in the locomotive, and while he stood around there he watched it, measured it, asked the engineer questions about it. one day the engineer, seeing he was interested, took him down to the switch and showed him how to put on the steam, and how to shut it off, and how to reverse the engine, ring the bell, operate the whistle, and all about it, and he was delighted. he went home and made draftings in the evenings of the locomotive. two years after that the same train ran on the siding and the engineer and fireman went into a house to get their breakfast, leaving the locomotive alone--waiting for the snow to be shoveled off the track which had rolled down the mountain. while they were absent a valve of the engine accidentally opened. it started the piston, and the engine began to draw out the train on to the main track, and then it began to go down the fearful grade at full speed. the brakeman went out on the rear platform, caught hold of the wheel brake in order to slow down the train. when he saw the engineer and fireman at the top of the hill swinging their arms as though something awful had happened, the brakeman shouted: "there is the engineer and fireman, both of them, up there. we will all be killed!" the people fainted and screamed, and the cry went to the second car, and then to the baggage car, and that milkman was there. he ran to the side-door to leap, but saw that it would be certain death. then, with the help of the baggage-man he clambered over the tender, reached the engineer's place, and felt around for the lever in the smoke. when he discovered it he pressed it home. then reversed the engine. it was a wonder those cylinder heads held. but with an awful crack the driving wheels stopped on the track, shot fire through the snow as they began to roll back against the ongoing train, the momentum still pushing it on. it shook the train until every pane of glass was broken. when it came to a stop the passengers climbed out to ascertain who stopped the train. they discovered that this young man had done it, and saved their lives, and they thanked him with tears. a stockholder in the railroad company, an old man nearly eighty years of age, was on the train. he went into the stockholders' meeting that night and told the story of his narrow escape on that train. since then that milkman has been one of the richest railroad owners in the world. what do you suppose has become of the other milkmen who went at the same time to the same place and sat on the edge of the platform and swung their feet? what has become of them? ask the winds that sweep down from the alleghany mountains--where are the other milkmen? the winds will answer, "they are going to the pump there still." it was ever the same. wherever you look, success in any branch of achievement depends upon this ability to get one's education every day as one goes along from the events that are around us now. the king is found wherever a person notices that which other men do not see. iv whom mankind shall love the great scientific men--and we need more--often are not given the full credit that is due them because they have not "graduated" from somewhere. it seems to me there is a feeling in these later days for creating an aristocracy among the men who have graduated from some rich university. but that does not determine a man's life. it may be a foolish tyranny for a little while, but nevertheless every man and woman must finally take the place where he and she are best fitted to be, and do the things that he and she can do best, and the things about which he and she really know. where they graduated, or when, will not long count in the race of practical life. we need great scientific men now more than we ever needed them before. where are you going to find them? we won't find them where that scientific man came from who invented an improvement upon the cuckoo clock. his clock, instead of saying, "cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo," when it struck the hour, said, "i love you! i love you! i love you!" that man left the clock at home with his wife nights while he was around at the club, thinking that would be sufficient protestation of his love. yet any man knows you cannot make love by machinery. that was only a so-called scientific idea. i read not long ago that a great scientific man said that "love and worship are only the aggregate results of physical causes." that is not true. love and worship are something beyond physical causes. educated men ought to know better than to say anything like that. there are many valuable things that every man knows until he has unlearned them in a university. there is danger that a man will get so much education that he won't know anything of real value because his useless education has driven the useful out of his mind. it is like a dog i owned when a boy. he was a very good fox dog. one day i thought i would show him off before the boys. we let the fox out at the barn door, which was open just far enough for the dog to see the fox start. then he began whining and yelping to get out. i ran out and dropped some red pepper where the dog was likely to follow the fox over the hill. then i went back and opened the door. the dog rushed out after the fox, but soon began to take in the red pepper. then he began to whine and yelp--and stopped, whirled around, and, rushing down to the brook, put his nose under the water. from the time he graduated from that pepper university he never would follow a fox at all. he had added education in the wrong direction, and so it is often with these scientific men. do you know that the humblest man, whatever his occupation, really knows instinctively certain things better for not having been to school much? it is so easy to bias the mind. when the boy comes to learn geometry the teacher will say: "two parallel lines will never run together." the boy may look up and ask, "what is the use of telling me that?" every man knows that two parallel lines will never run together. but how does he know it? it is born with him. his natural instincts tell that to him. it is what we call "an axiom"--a self-evident truth. it is above argument and beyond all possible reasoning. we know that "two halves are equal to the whole"! you know that when you cut an apple in half the two halves are equal to the whole of it. you tell that to a geometry class, and they say: "i know that. everybody knows it." of course everybody does, because it is a natural scientific fact that you cannot reasonably question. ask a man, "do you know that you exist?" he looks with astonishment and says: "certainly! don't i know that i am? i know that i am here, that this is me, that i am not mrs. smith or some one else?" of course you do. but how do you know it? by a god-given instinct that came into the world with you. no scientist or school on earth could disprove that, or prove it, either. it is a self-evident fact. i know that i am an intelligent personal identity, and that i dwell in this body in some mysterious way. i know that is my hand, but what i possess is not me. i know by an instinct infallible that i am a spiritual being, separate from this material. you know that. no scientist can prove or disprove it. it is a fact we all know. i know that i can never die, and you know it unless you have gotten educated out of it. it is in your very life; it is a part of your original instinct. when some graduate of some great university shall come to you, young man, and say, "i can prove to you that the bible is not true," or, "i can prove to you that your religion is false," you can say to him: "you are nothing but an educated fool. because the more you have studied the less truth you seem to know." it is only one's own personal self that can know his own religious instincts. it is only himself that can know whether he is in spiritual relation to god or not. no education on earth can overturn the fact, although wrong study may confuse the mind. when a man comes to me, with his higher education, to overturn religion, it reminds me of what artemus ward said to that lordly graduate of oxford and cambridge. this man told ward that he was disgusted with his shows. artemus ward asked him, "what do you know about these shows?" and he said: "i know everything about them. i graduated from two universities." then artemus ward said, "you remind me of a farmer in maine who had a calf that stole the milk of two cows, and the more milk he got the greater calf he was." such is the effect sometimes of education on religious life--the more mental education of some kind which you get the less you may know about your natural religious instincts. there is a great need to-day, and prayers go up to heaven now for men and women whom _mankind shall love_--love because they are great benefactors; love because, while they are making money or gaining fame or honor for themselves, they are blessing humanity all the way along. i must not argue now. i will illustrate, because you can remember the illustrations and you might forget an argument. there is a great need for artists. there never was such a need in the progress of christian civilization as there is now for great painters. all these walls ought to be covered with magnificent paintings teaching some great divine truth, and every school-house, yes, every barn, ought to have some picture upon it that will instruct and inspire. all our children seek to go to the moving pictures, and that shows what an agency there is in pictures for the instruction of mankind. we need artists by the thousands. it is not a surprise to me that a new york man is getting a salary of $ , a year for moving-picture work because "he notices something other people have not seen." it is no surprise that a great store in that city pays an advertising man $ , a year salary. he can see what the rest of the public does not see. we need great artists, hundreds of them. where are you going to find them? you will say "at the art school, in the national gallery in london, or at the louvre in paris, or in rome." well, it may be that you will. but it is an unfortunate thing for your theory that one of the greatest painters in america painted with a cat's tail. it is another enlightening thing that the man who received the highest prize at the world's fair in chicago for a landscape painting never took "a lesson" in color or drawing in his life. but that doesn't argue against lessons nor against schools or universities. don't misunderstand me in this. i am only making emphatic my special subject. he took the highest prize and never went to an art school in his life. if he had attended school the teacher might have tried to show him something and thus weakened his mind. the teacher in a school who shows a child anything that that child could work out for himself is a curse to that child. it is an awful calamity for a child to be under the control of a too kind-hearted teacher who will show him everything. one of the greatest artists was charlotte brontë. she was a wonderful little woman, and i like little women. did you ever read longfellow's poem on "little women"? it always reminds me so much of charlotte brontë. one day he showed me the poem, and i asked him why he did not print it in his book, and he replied, "i don't think it is worth while." since his death they have given it first rank, and i will quote one verse: as within a little rose we find the richest dyes, as in a little grain of gold much price and value lies, and as from a little balsam much odor doth arise, so in a little woman there's a gleam of paradise. charlotte brontë was one of those wonderful, wiry, beautiful little cultivated combinations of divine femininity which no man can describe. she had a younger brother on her hands, and when a young woman has a younger brother on her hands if she has a beau, she has her hands full. this younger brother was dull of brains, clumsy of finger and unfitted to be an artist. but his sister was determined he should be a painter, and took him to the shore, to the village and the woods, and said, "notice everything, and notice it closely." finally, he did secure a second prize. then his little sister threw her arms about her brother's neck and kissed him, and thanked him for getting that prize. that is just like a woman! i never could understand a woman. of all the mysterious things that the lord ever put together, a woman is the most mysterious. charlotte brontë was like an old lady i used to know up in my native town who thanked her husband, with tears, for having brought up a flock of sheep which she herself fed every morning through the winter before he was out of bed. finally, charlotte brontë's younger brother became dissipated and died, and then her father died, and when we ministers get to be old we might as well die. she was left without means of support. but when she told her friends, they said: "you have a college education, charlotte. why don't you write something?" we now find that the first thing she wrote was "jane eyre," the wonderful story for which she at last received $ , . queen victoria invited that humble girl to her palace at windsor because of her marvelous genius. how came she to write a book like that? simply because she had noticed so closely, for her brother's sake, that from the nib of her pen flowed those beautiful descriptions as naturally as the water ripples down the mountain-side. that is always so. no man ever gives himself for others' good in the right spirit without receiving "a hundredfold more in this present time." i will go one step farther with this thought. we do need great painters, but we don't want more painters like that man who painted the israelites coming out of egypt, representing them with muskets on their shoulders with u.s. on the butts. but more than artists we need great musicians. there is an awful need of music. we have too much noise, but very little real music. did you ever think how little you have? do you suppose a true musician is simply a man who roars down to low b and squeals to high c? what an awful need there is of the music which refines the heart, brightens the mind; that brings glory and heaven down to men. i have not the space here to expand upon that thought--the awful need of humanity for real music. but we don't get it. i do not know why it is. i am not able to explain. but perhaps i can hint at what music is. at yale i had to earn my own living, and that is why, for these forty-four years, i have been lecturing exclusively to help young men secure their college education. i arose at four o'clock and worked in the new haven house from four to eight to get the "come backs" from the breakfast table so that my brother and i could live. some days, however, i digged potatoes in the afternoon, and taught music in the evening, although the former was my proper occupation. sometimes my music scholars would invite me in to play something to entertain their company, and i noticed the louder i played the louder they talked. i often said, "what a low standard of musical culture there is in new haven!" but i learned something after i left college. i learned i was not a musician. had i been a musician they would have listened. that is the only test of real music. there is no other. if you sing and every one whispers, or you play and every one talks, it is because you are not a musician. i dare tell it to you here, when i would not dare say it to you individually if we were alone. there is no person on earth who gets so many lies to the square inch as a person who drums on a piano. what is music? music may be wholly a personal matter and be called music. i remember major snow, of my native town, who used to listen to the filing of the saw at the sawmill. how that did screech and scratch until it hurt to our toes! we asked the old major why he went down to the mill saturday, when he could go any other day. he said: "oh, boys, you do not understand it. when i was young i worked in a sawmill and i come down here to hear them file that saw. it reminds me of the good old days. it is music to me." he was "educated up" to that standard where filing of a saw was music to him, and so men may be educated in all manner of ways in so-called music. but it is not the real music. what is true music? i went to a beautiful church in new york to exchange with the pastor, and an officer of the church came down the aisle as i walked in and said to me, "sir, the choir always opens the service." they did; they opened it! i sat down on the pulpit sofa and waited an embarrassingly long time for something to be done up there. the choir roosted on a shelf over my head. the soprano earned $ , a year, and i was anxious to hear her. soon i heard the rustle of silk up there, and one or two little giggles. then the soprano began. she struck the lowest note her cultivated voice could possibly touch, and then she began to wind, or rather, corkscrew, her way up and up and up, out of sight--and she stayed up there. then the second bass began and wound his way down, down, down--down to the hades of sound--and he stayed down there. now, was that music? was it worship? why, if i had stood in that sacred place and positively sworn at the people it would not have been greater sacrilege than that exhibition up on that shelf! do you think the living god is to be worshiped by a high-flying, pyrotechnic, trapeze performance in acoustics? neither worship nor music was there. music does not consist of a high-flying circus trapeze performance in acoustics. what is music? music is such a combination of sound as moves the heart to holier emotions, quickens the brain to brighter thoughts, and moves the whole man on to nobler deeds. that is music. nothing else is music. you can only find out whether you are a musician or not by _taking notice_, while you sing, whether you hold the attention of the people, and whether you influence their memory and their after character. v need of orators we need great orators. the need is something alarming. i am often called to lecture at the chautauquas and the lyceums, and the committees often urge me to recommend some man or woman who will fill a place on the public platform. they offer marvelous rewards for those who will do that well. there are no men or women alive, not one known in our land to-day, who could be called a great orator. when i began to lecture, fifty-eight years ago, there were henry ward beecher, wendell phillips, george william curtis, edward everett, the greatest orator of his day--and john b. gough. i esteem it a great honor to have been induced by mr. gough to go on the lecture platform. they are all gone, and no successors have appeared. liberty and oratory have ever gone together, and always will, hence the need of oratory is especially pressing now. why don't we have orators? the editors say "because the newspaper has come in and goes into every home, and a man on sunday will read a better sermon in his newspaper than ever was delivered, and will save paying the minister and having trouble with the choir." now, that time will never come. you will never get along without real orators, no matter how many newspapers you may have. i respect the press. i have had something to do with its work in my lifetime. i have worked upon and owned a daily newspaper. but i must say that there is something, after all, in the shake of a living man's finger, something in the flash of his eye, something in the stamp of his foot, but vastly more in his mesmeric power, which no cold type will ever express! you never can fully express the living man in cold lead. why don't we have great orators? i don't think the newspapers are in the way. but other people say to me. "it is the injurious effect of the modern school of elocution, which is now called 'the school of oratory.'" it has only been a few years since all these elocutionary schools changed their names to "schools of oratory" and consequently damaged the prospect of our country. the school of elocution may not be a school of oratory at all. it may be a hindrance to oratory; it depends on what the teaching is. there is a wide difference between elocution and real oratory. elocution is an art of expression, which every teacher has, and he teaches his own art. but oratory is the great science of successful speech. the man who gets what he pleads for is an orator, no matter how he calls. if you call a dog and he comes, that is oratory. if he runs away, that is elocution! why don't we have greater orators? these schools of elocution remind me of an incident which occurred about seventeen years ago. i don't believe i will hurt any one's feelings now by mentioning it. the professor of elocution was sick one day, and the boys came after me. they wanted me to come because the teacher was away, and i resolved to go and entertain that class and let it pass for a recitation. professors often do that. when i came into the class-room, i said to the boy on the front seat: "what was the last lesson you had in elocution?" one of the boys said: "peter piper, pickle-picker, picked six pecks of pickled peppers; if peter piper, pickle-picker, picked six pecks of pickled peppers, where are the six pecks of pickled peppers which peter piper picked?" that is "lip exercise" in elocution. i said to that young man, "i will not teach elocution. but i wish you would come up and deliver that to this class just as you would to an audience." the boy came up and put his toes together, and his hands by his side, for he had not reached the study of gesture. he yelled very rapidly and loudly: "peter piper, pickle-picker, picked six pecks of pickled peppers; if peter piper, piping, picked six pecks of pickled peppers, where are the pecks of pickled peppers which peter piper picked?" it was elocution, but it was not oratory. i had trouble in getting up another boy, but i finally did. he thought that oratory consisted entirely in elocutionary "inflections," so he delivered it: "peter piper picked six pecks of pickled peppers; if peter piping picked a peck of pickled peppers, where's the peck of pickled peppers peter piper picked?" (with marked raising and lowering of the voice.) it sounded like an old rooster in the barn in the morning. but being elocution, it was not oratory. but the most illustrative and most absurd speech i ever heard was by a visitor in that class that day. he was sitting over near the aisle, and one of the students came and whispered to me: "that young man has graduated from an eastern school of elocution, and he is going to act the heavy parts in tragedy upon the stage. he is a great elocutionist, and won't you get him to recite something to the class?" i fell into the trap, and went down to the young man, and said: "i understand you are an elocutionist. will you come up and recite something for the class?" as soon as he looked up at me i saw by his eyes there was something the matter with his head. i do not know just what, but things have happened since that make it no unkindness to refer to him the way i do. i said: "please come up and recite something," and he replied: "shall i recite the same thing the young men have been reciting?" i said, "you don't need to do that; take anything." he left his gold-headed cane--the best part of him--on the floor, and then he came up to the platform and leaned on the table and said to me: "shall i recite the same thing the young men have been reciting?" i said: "you can if you wish. you are perfectly free to take anything you choose. the professor is away, anyhow. when the cat is away the mice will play." then he began to prepare himself for that recitation. i never saw such behavior in my life. he pulled up his sleeves, brushed back his hair, shook himself, moved the table away forward, and i slid far back by the door and left the platform open, for i didn't know what he was going to do next. then he gave the selection: "peter piper picked a peck of pickled pepper-r-rs; if peter piper, piping piper, picked a peck of pickled pepper-r-r-rs, where's the peck of pickled pepper-r-r-rs peter piper pickle-picker-r-r picked?" he rolled in a flutter the letter "r" in each line. that class looked up with awe, and applauded until he repeated it. it was still elocution, but it was not oratory. he thought that oratory consisted of rolling the "r's" and rolling himself. that is not oratory. where do they learn oratory? they learn it in the old-fashioned school-house, from that old hen at the kitchen door, in some back office, in some hall, or some church where young men or women get together and debate, saying naturally the things they mean, and then _take notice_ of the effects of what they debate upon, the conviction or after action of those who listen. that is the place to observe. you must _take notice_ if you are to be a great orator. the greatest orator of the future will be a woman. it has not been two months since the management of a women's chautauqua said, "we could give $ , a year to any woman who will be a natural woman on the platform." they would make money at $ , a year if they hired a woman who would be a real woman. the trouble is that when women get on the platform they try to sing bass or try to speak as a man speaks. and there is such a need for women orators now! i get provoked about it when i think. why isn't there a great woman orator like mrs. livermore now when she is needed so much? vi woman's influence if women vote they will be of little account unless they are leaders. it is of no special advantage to the voter to ignorantly put a piece of paper in a box. but it is of great account to influence ten thousand votes. that is what women must do if they are going to exercise their right under suffrage--they must be the influence behind the throne, not merely a voter. when i was a boy in the district school a substitute teacher came in, and we all loved that little woman. we would do anything she asked us to do. one day that substitute teacher, who could not get a first-class certificate, copied a verse of a poem and asked me to read it: if you cannot on the ocean sail among the swiftest fleet: rocking on the mighty billows, laughing at the storms you meet. she asked me to read it once, and then she turned the paper over and said, "now, russell, repeat it." i said, "i have not learned it by heart." said she: "don't learn it by heart. i will try again." so she wrote the second verse: if you are too weak to journey up the mountain steep and high. then she said to me, "now, russell, read it through once, and notice carefully each word, and don't look back at a word a second time." i know not now why she demanded that; i have looked in many books of psychology and in many places to find out. i have no explanation of this, and i ask you to think for me, for this is the fact. i took the second verse and read it through as she told me to do. then she turned it over and said, "please repeat it." i said, "i cannot repeat it; i have not learned it by heart." she replied: "don't you say that again. just shut your eyes and make a mental effort to see those verses, and then read it." i shut my eyes and said, "oh, it is all dark." then she seemed very much disturbed and said: "now, russell, don't say that. won't you try to do what i ask you to do?" i thought the little woman was going to cry, so i said, "yes, i will do the best i can." she said, "shut your eyes again and make a determined effort, with your eyes shut, to see that poetry just as though it were right before you." i shut my eyes and made that effort, and saw it as distinctly as though i had held it before my open eyes. so long as my eyes were shut i could see the two verses, and i read it all through, word for word, and i read it backward, word for word, to the beginning. i thought i had seen a ghost. i went home and told my father what had happened, and he rushed down from the pasture to the school-house and said to the teacher: "if you indulge again in your foolish superstitions you will never teach in that school-house again." it must have been uncomfortable for her, and her secret went down to the grave with her, as far as i know. yet what would i not give if i could place before the world now what that little girl knew. all our educational institutions, for which i have labored all these years, would be as nothing compared with that one secret if i could give it to you--that secret of being able to look upon a scene and shut's one's eyes and bring it all back again, study it in detail. i have not had great personal power in that line. but i have seen a man who would take a column of the morning paper and read it down, and hand me the paper and read it through with his eyes shut and scarcely make a mistake. i do not know that i ever saw any one who was infallible, but rarely would he make a mistake. often he could tell me where the comma, semi-colon, and other marks of punctuation were. i do not believe there is a normal child who is not mentally capable of that power when he has a teacher who understands how to develop it. that little teacher, who held only a second-class certificate, knew more about psyhology than many of the greatest men who preside over great institutions. in the alps some years ago was professor slayton, a native of brighton, england. he was one of the nation's best botanists. his wife died and he was left with a little child between five and six years of age. they boarded at the hotel des alps, in the chamouni valley. one morning he took his little girl up to the mer-de-glace, and then he told her to run back to the hotel, saying he would return to her in the evening. she bid her father good-by and saw him go up mont blanc into the forest, and she ran back. he did not return in the evening, and she sat up all night and worried, and early in the morning she ran out from the hotel and ran up the stream to the path she had seen her father take. then, running across, she started climbing up the side of the great snow-capped mountain. she came suddenly to a place where the path ran around along a projecting precipice, two hundred and eighty feet in the perpendicular, around a promontory of rock that set a few feet back. when she came to that spot her feet slipped upon the snow on the glare ice, and she slid down and down over the edge so far that her fingers just caught in the moss on the edge and one foot rested on about an inch projection of the rock. as she hung there she screamed, "papa!" her father heard that cry. he was down in the valley so far that he could not see her, but he could hear her voice. he recognized it, and he felt there was an awful need of him--"humanity called to him." he ran across the valley and up the path. on the way there was a tree near which he had previously _noticed_ there was an ax. he pulled out the ax and ran on to a tree where he had previously _observed_ there was a rope which the coal-burners had long used to let coal down from the cliff. he clipped the rope with the ax, threw away the ax, and, tying the rope around him as he had _noticed_ the guides do who take travelers over the "sea of ice," he ran on, until suddenly he came to the spot where his little girl had slipped. he could see the parting in her hair twenty feet down, and all was glare ice between. his heart must have stopped beating. but he suddenly shouted: "papa's come. hold on tight!" she screamed, "i cannot hold on any longer!" he turned and threatened her. oh, ye parents, whosoever you may be, you may save your own son or daughter from a physical or moral death by training them to obey when they are young. her fingers tightened again, and he threw the rope around the butt of a tree he had _noticed_, and let himself rapidly down over that ice. he tried to get hold of his little child's hands, but they had melted deep into the moss, and he let himself down beside her and caught hold of her dress and pulled her to him. both were hanging from the edge of the cliff, and the end of the rope was in his hand, and his hand on the ice. he tried to pull himself up, but the rope would not give an inch, and then he tried to push his little girl up, but with frozen fingers she could not climb. there they hung in the high alps, alone! will he fall on the jagged rocks and be crushed to death? no, he will not fall, because he is a king. he has used his _every-day observation_, though he is a graduate of a university. he had _noticed_ something more--he had observed how the dogs howl when they find perishing travelers. those st. bernard dogs, whenever they find a dead body or a man laying insensible, will always howl in one peculiar way. those dogs know more about acoustics than an architect. how do they know? god told them. when a dog utters that cry it can be heard for miles and miles. the professor imitated the call of the dog, and when it rang down the valley the coal-burners heard it and the wood-choppers heard it. they said: "that is a dog, and a dog never howls like that unless he has found a dying man." so, throwing down their axes and guns, and running over the snows toward the sound of the call, they suddenly came to the spot. they caught hold of the rope and one of them slid down rapidly and seized the little girl's arm and passed her up, and then caught hold of the professor's arm and lifted him, while the others pulled upon the rope. thus they dragged him up. the professor fell on the snow-drift and fainted dead away. but he was a king. he heard humanity's cry, and when he heard it he knew where the ax was. he had used his every-day study in such a way that he knew where the old rope was, and knew how to tie it, and he knew how to call for help. whenever you find on earth a successful man or woman you will always find it is a man or woman who hears humanity's call, and who has so used his every-day means of observation that he knows where the weapons are with which to fight those battles, or where the means are with which to bring men relief. i could not better put into your minds that professor's feelings than by a quotation of an english phrase which he printed in english on his scientific books, though the books were published in french: we live for those who love us, for those who know us true; for the heavens that bend above us, for the good that we can do. for the wrongs that lack resistance, for each cause that needs assistance, for the future in the distance, for the good that we can do. every man his own university _by_ russell h. conwell every man's university animals and "the least things" the bottom rung thoughtfulness instincts and individuality volume national extension university fifth avenue, new york observation--every man his own university copyright, , by harper & brothers printed in the united states of america i every man's university a distinct university walks about under each man's hat. the only man who achieves success in the other universities of the world, and in the larger university of life, is the man who has first taken his graduate course and his post-graduate course in the university under his hat. there _observation_ furnishes a daily change in the curriculum. books are not the original sources of power, but observation, which may bring to us all wide experience, deep thinking, fine feeling, and the power to act for oneself, is the very dynamo of power. without observation, literature and meditation are shower and sunshine upon unbroken soil. only those schools and colleges are true schools and colleges which regard it as the chief business of all their teaching to persuade those under their charge to see more perfectly what they are looking at, to find what they should have been unable to observe had it not been for their school instruction. you can't make a good arrow from a pig's tail, and you can seldom get a man worth while out of one who has gone through the early part of his life without having learned to be alert when things are to be seen or heard. john stuart blackie says that it is astonishing how much we all go about with our eyes wide open and see nothing, and doctor johnson says that some men shall see more while riding ten miles upon the top of an omnibus, than some others shall see in riding over the continent. _how to observe_ should be the motto, not only in the beginning of our life, but throughout our career. with the same intellectual gifts, interested in the same ideas, two men walk side by side through the same scenery and meet the same people. one man has had much inspiration from the country traversed, and has been intent upon all that he has seen and heard among the people. the other has caught no inspiration from beauty or bird or blossom, and only the trivialities of the people have amused him.[ ] a traveler in athens or rome, paris or london, may be shown these cities by a professional guide, and yet gain only a smattering of what these cities hold in store for him, and remember little of what he has seen. another traveler, unattended by a guide, but observant of everything that comes to his eyes and ears, will carry away stores from his visit to those cities, which shall be of life-long interest and be serviceable to all who shall travel his way. the solitary but observant stranger in a country almost always profits most from his travels. he is compelled to notice boulevards and buildings, parks and people; and every day of his travels is a lesson in observation that accustoms him to remember all he has once seen. the newspaper correspondents of other days had no guide-books or guides, and they were entire strangers in the places they visited. they relied entirely upon themselves to find their way, and to discover everything that was valuable and interesting. they found much that the modern guide either overlooks or disregards, and wrote for the papers at home what would most interest and instruct their readers. when henry m. stanley first visited jerusalem he insisted that the dragoman in charge of his party should keep all guides and guide-books out of his sight. in two days stanley knew the streets and the location of the temple and the holy sepulcher and all the notable places in that old city. if stanley is to-day known as one of the most intelligent of travelers, it is mainly because he excelled in daily _observation_, which every one who thinks for himself recognizes as the supreme acquisition of a liberal education. he often said that he knew rome, naples, and vienna far better than he knew new york, where he had lived many years of his life. in that he resembled the rest of humanity, who generally know less about what is notable in their home places, than observant visitors know who stay there only a short time during their travels. what we pay for in time and labor seems more valuable--nothing pay, nothing value. a great foreign correspondent of his day, henry w. chambers, remained only six hours at baalbek, near damascus; yet he wrote the clearest description that probably ever was written of the magnificent temples at baalbek--and he wrote these descriptions, too, at hong-kong, after many and varied experiences while visiting other places of greater importance. many archeologists and literary men before him had visited the moat of the great fortress at baalbek. still, they had never observed as chambers observed, and so they missed seeing the arrow-heads and all the other warlike instruments used in those ancient days, which had lain unnoticed among those huge pillars and great foundation-stones. although general lew wallace lived a long time at jerusalem, he only imagined that there might have been an inner dungeon underneath the great prison; so when he wrote _ben hur_ he put his leprous heroine into this imaginary prison-house. a school-teacher from northern england, with her tourist-candle, afterward found the doorway of this prison which wallace had only imagined to be there. on their way from egypt and palestine to the euphrates, travelers had for centuries passed over the same path in the desert; but it was reserved for a cutter of marble inscriptions, after all these centuries, to _observe_ the rosetta stone, by the help of which archeologists can now read the inscriptions upon the tablets in the ancient palaces of babylon and ninevah. millions and millions had seen the lid of a teakettle bobbing up and down over the boiling water before that scotchman, watt, observed it while making watches. but he was the first of all those millions whose close observation led him to investigate this force of boiling water in the teakettle. then he applied this power to the steam-engine, which is still the great propelling force of the world. from the time of the garden of eden apples had fallen in the orchards of the world, through all the harvest-days. of all the billions that had seen apples falling, only sir isaac newton observed the law of gravitation that was involved in their falling. all the great discoverers began with nearly the same meager powers for observation that the rest of the world has, but early in life came to value above all other mental powers this incalculable power to closely notice; and each made his realm of observation much richer for his discoveries. why do the majority of us go through life seeing nothing of the millions of marvelous truths and facts while only a few keep their eyes and ears wide open and every day are busy in piling up what they have observed! the loss of our instincts seems to be the price we pay to-day for the few minor acquisitions we get from school and college; we put out our brains to make room for our learning. the man who assiduously cultivates his powers of observation and thus gains daily from his experiences what helps him to see farther and clearer everything in life that is worth seeing, has given himself a discipline that is much more important than the discipline of all the schools and the colleges without it. the greatest text-books of the greatest universities are only the records of the observations of some close observer whose better powers of seeing things had been acquired mainly while he was taking his courses in that university under his hat. the intellect is both telescope and microscope; if it is rightly used, it shall observe thousands of things which are too minute and too distant for those who with eyes and ears neither see nor hear. the intellect can be made to look far beyond the range of what men and women ordinarily see; but not all the colleges in the world can alone confer this power--this is the reward of _self-culture_; each must acquire it for himself; and perhaps this is why the power of observing deeply and widely is so much oftener found in those men and those women who have never crossed the threshold of any college but the university of hard knocks. the quickening power of science only he can know, from whose _own_ soul it gushes free. when we look back over our life and reflect how many things we might have seen and heard had we trained our powers of observation, we seem to have climbed little and to have spent most of our time upon plateaus, while our achievements seem little better than scratches upon black marble. mankind has a greater esteem for the degrees conferred by the university of observation and experience than for all the other degrees of all other universities in the world. the only thing that seems most to win the respect of real men and women for the degrees conferred by colleges is the fact that the graduates have first gained all that close observation and wide experience can confer. the lives of the men and the women who have been worth while keep reminding us how vastly more important is this education from ceaseless observation than all the mere learning from school courses. it takes ten pounds of the stuff gotten from observation and experience to carry one pound of school learning wisely. the thinking man will never ask you what college you have gone through, but what college has gone through you; and the ability and habit of observing deeply and broadly is the preparation we all need that the college may go through us. confucius of china, kito of japan, goethe of germany, arnold of england, lincoln and edison of america, stand where they stand to-day in thought and action solely because they had in a masterly way educated their power of minute attention. in building up a huge business or in amassing enormous riches, such men as rothschild, rockefeller, and carnegie show us especially how vitally important to all material success is steadfast attendance at the school of attention. the colleges that to-day are advancing most rapidly in esteem are those which are recognizing more and more the importance of observation. they require their men to spend some portion of their college time in gaining experience in their various lines through observing the practical workings of their calling; medical students are in hospitals; students of law attend courts; theological students engage in mission work; and engineers are found in shops. neither lectures nor speculations can take the place of these experiences; each is helpful to the other. when only one may be had, the experience from observing actual work is far more important. opportunities for observation of practical matters, along with theory, is the modern idea toward which all the best modern institutions are tending in their efforts to fit men for the active business of life. nor has greatness from careful observation and large experience distinguished men of action alone. shakespeare, goethe, bunyan, burns, whittier, longfellow, james whitcomb riley, and a host of the great men of philosophy, science, and literature are where they are to-day in the esteem of their fellow men, and in their service to humanity, because they were the keenest among the men acute in observation. [footnote : the failure to observe is strikingly proved by practical experiment in the psychological laboratory. reproductions of a familiar or unfamiliar scene are placed in the observers' hands and they are instructed to study the reproductions carefully and to remember what they see. after minutes careful study, the reproductions are taken away and a series of questions concerning them are put to the observers. the contradictory answers to these questions is strikingly eloquent of the all-too-human inability to observe. hugo munsterberg, the famous psychologist, made a number of psychological experiments to determine the limits of error in observation as these limits affect the credibility of witnesses in the court room. some of his findings are summarized in "on the witness stand." your good newspaper reporter is a trained observer who describes exactly what he sees. yet the manner in which even the trained observer fails to observe correctly is unfailingly demonstrated by the widely differing accounts of the same occurrence as reported in the various newspapers of a community. one of the best ways to learn to observe correctly and in detail is to take a hasty glance at the display in a store window, pass on and attempt to recall that which you have seen, the number of objects, what they were, etc., and then check your observing faculties by returning to the window and listing its contents. continued practice of this sort will greatly increase your observing powers. perhaps the most famous known exponent of this method for training the observing faculties was houdini, the famous magician, who describes the method in detail and his experiences in applying it in his memoirs.] ii animals and "the least things" the benefits brought to humanity through the study of lower animal life are incalculable, and could not be told in one book. with all that vivisection and post-mortem dissection have revealed to scientific examiners, contagious and infectious diseases have been nearly removed from the human family. we have been taught to live better from observing animal habits in searching for food, in building their habitats, in their mode of living, in their fear of man, and in the methods they adopt to preserve their health. all this knowledge has been gained for us, for the upbuilding of humanity, through the efforts of _close observers_. they have studied the cat by the hearth, the dog by the door, the horses in the pasture and stall, the pigs in their pens, and the sheep in their folds. closely associated with the investigators of animal life are those who have observed the origin, habits, and influence of birds, insects, and creeping things. but what we have learned from animals in the past seems only a trifle in comparison with what they will teach when we go to them with more serious purpose and more carefully observe them. the leaders in all these investigations of animal life have all been distinguished for their power to discover in animals what has escaped other people. professor darwin's close observation of the doves he fed at his door opened up to him important suggestions and laid the foundation for his great treatise, "the origin of species." when professor niles of the boston school of technology was a boy he caught a minnow while returning from school. at his father's suggestion he put the fish into a simple aquarium and studied its movements. when it died he carefully examined its parts under a microscope--and this experience was the beginning of his vast knowledge of the animal realm. while a philadelphia clergyman was visiting a farmer in northern new jersey, the family became perturbed because their dog had "gone mad." they fastened it in the kitchen and sought somebody to kill it by shooting at it through the window. a neighbor observed the dog carefully and told them it was poisoned. he advised the family to loose it in order that it might get some antidote for itself in field or forest. he told them that cats, cattle, and horses are often compelled to find an antidote for some poisonous herb they have eaten, and that the animals know more about such things than any teacher in the medical schools. as soon as the dog was unfastened he hastened across the field to a brook, and ate a weed that was growing beside the water. the dog soon returned to the house, and ate heartily after a two weeks' fast. the clergyman had followed the dog and observed the plant which it had eaten. after the dog had returned to the house he uprooted the plant and took some of its leaves to a philadelphia firm of chemists. acting upon the firm's advice, he sent the leaves to the smithsonian institution at washington, and they were found to be a valuable antidote for poison. not only was humanity given a better medicine from this discovery, but the clergyman also derived a competency from it. this remedy for poisoning is often used in prescriptions; so even doctors sometimes "go to the dogs" for instructions. like professor agassiz and sir oliver lodge, many find their best instructors in domestic animals. the fowls around the house and the barn may be whole universities for developing the sciences. through her dependence on nature the hen is a more efficient instructor than the majority of college professors. she knows by instinct so much of the laws of nature that wise men may sit at her feet or her bill and learn. perhaps she may seem a little foolish in proclaiming her achievements in egg-laying by a cackle, but her knowledge of the necessities of life, her careful oversight of her brood, the way she uses her feet and her wings, her foreknowledge of approaching storms, her means of defending herself when attacked by hawks, her knowledge of the formation of the egg and of the proper time to break the shell for the release of her chick--all these are worthy of the attention of even the greatest scientists. in an address at a poultry-men's convention, oliver wendell holmes said that chickens seem to have in them much more to study than did darwin's doves. while holmes was once summering at kennebunkport, maine, he trained five chickens to come at his call, to fly upon his head, and to leap with open bills to catch a kernel of corn. before the season closed the chickens would come to his bedroom even after he had retired--making it necessary, as doctor holmes said, for the landlord to serve them up for dinner. doctor holmes's parody on longfellow's "a psalm of life" shows what a careful observer he was. while some of longfellow's admirers resented the parody as a slight, longfellow himself always treated it as complimentary. he once told james t. fields that, in one couplet of the parody, holmes had excelled the entire original poem: not like muffled drums be beating on the inside of the shell. longfellow told fields that there are always millions of men standing like chickens in the shell, with wings they know not how to use, having calls to a larger life outside of which they can see nothing; that some peck away until dead on the inside of the shell, while others, assisted by a friend on the outside, step out into a life beautiful and complete. in the egg or molecule we get nearer to god than we do through the telescope or by encircling the earth. he who lived nearest the first cause gets the best inspiration for visions of all greater sights or events; so the cottage is a happier place than the palace for him who wishes to get better acquainted with what shall arouse finer thought and feeling. the cottage is the best preparatory school for the mansion, provided always that the cottage course has been thorough. he who has worn his cottage life with manly dignity shall be the man to wear his mansion life with composure. emerson said "the entire system of things gets represented in every particle." uneasy is the head that wears the crown, and unfortunate is the man who gets a smattering of many things yet does not know even one small thing thoroughly. the power of little things to give instruction and happiness should be the first lesson in life, and it should be inculcated deeply. the chief need of this discontented and sinful world is to comprehend that in one blade of grass or the shading of an evening cloud there is sufficient reverence to fill the largest heart, and sufficient science to occupy the greatest passion. we saw a delicate blue flower in the grass this morning which i had never noticed before. it seemed a different flower from each angle and, when put under a magnifying-glass, had colors i had never noticed before in flower or art. the field where it was growing had been familiar to me for threescore years and ten, yet the flower was entirely new to me. it was so dainty and attractive and inspiring that i felt i had lost something important to my spiritual growth all these years--something like the experience of virgil, guizot, carlyle, grotius, or like tennyson in the "holy grail," who declares that he had left a real and wonderful life behind to follow the unknown. this little flower in the morning sunlight awakes thoughts of years long past--of the faces of marshaled hosts of battle, of eyes deep and calm with the smile of a loving mother's welcome, of the great forgiveness in a father's affection. had i found that flower seventy years before, i believe my appreciation of the divine power would have been greater, my heart would have been more satisfied, my soul more fully illuminated and pervaded by a holier peace. we lose ourselves in all attempts to grasp the cause of which this small flower is the result. it is impossible to find words to convey the strange emotions which this newly found flower aroused, and to tell of the distant realms my imagination visited while i meditated there. if we would free ourselves from the perplexing cares which our daily duties demand; if we would forget the worries of each day; if the losses and disappointments and the wrongs of many years did not press themselves upon us; if the demands of many duties and the demands upon our attention and the calls of friends did not interrupt--we could find in contemplating this wee flower of the field a fund of happiness which years of sorrow and misfortune could not destroy. bacon and burke and niebuhr discovered how much of grandeur can come into a life from the little things about us, but they all discovered it when it was too late to go back and live the _ideal_ life of simplicity and individuality which was suggested to them by a drop of water and a humming-bird. the smallest things are the largest in importance, if they bring into our lives the largest thoughts and feelings and an incentive to largest actions for self and humanity. why are we forever looking upon the horizon for what upon closer view lies at our feet? these little beauties of the field rebuke the wanderer and the eminent man when it says to all the world, with a sweet smile and a dainty pout, "you could have found more in my life than has ever been learned from the sages." while zinzendorf was stranded nearly a year upon a tiny island, his vigorous mind was forced to occupy itself in observing the objects upon the shore; his examinations of the colors in the clam-shell led him to say later in life, at a meeting of philosophers, that a lifetime study of these colors should develop more of the beautiful than all the manufactured color combinations then known. art has not yet been able to combine the shades shown in the shell of an oyster, and the wings of the june bug have been enlarged and copied by colored photography, and will greatly influence all art hereafter. man's needs shall be best supplied by beginning at the source and following the creator in developing them into things of beauty and service. although the agricultural department at washington spent eight million dollars in the study of seeds and their growth by sending experts to roam over the world for investigations, yet the observations of luther burbank and many like investigators in the agricultural colleges throughout the country have made many more important discoveries. their observations have brought about a greater increase of production to the acre than all the results of those who roamed the earth for the government, and no one would say that their work was not a fair investment for the nation. observation convinces us that the sooner we get down to the simplicities of life, the longer and healthier and nobler shall life become. the healthiest are those with one loaf and a natural hunger along with it. the noblest lives are those who are anxious to become as divine as it is possible for them to be, are ever alert for little deeds of kindness. how much richer life the poet lives who can sympathize with the field-mouse, like burns! who is lifted heavenward by the fringed gentian, like bryant? who gets the messages of peace from the frosted pumpkin, like riley? like shakespeare, we too may "find tongues in trees, books in running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything," if we will but use our eyes for seeing, our ears for hearing, our heads for understanding, and our hearts for feeling. the poor man's university gives its courses everywhere, and no entrance examination is requisite other than a mind willing to concentrate upon the sublime objects which, by the million, lie within our vision. iii the bottom rung almost every day of his life an american is reminded that "necessity is the mother of invention." it needs only a little reflection and observation to realize how much american youth are blessed in the examples of their countrymen who have come from the humblest stations in life and have risen through sheer pluck and perseverance to honor and helpfulness. we are indebted mainly to the genius and the observation of poor men for the great inventions which have so much contributed to the comfort, the convenience, the cheerfulness, and the power of life. they have given us steam as a motive power, the locomotive, the telegraph, the typewriter, the telephone, the automobile, the victrola, the airship. the great advances that have been made in agriculture through mowers, reapers, planters, and special seeds and fruits are entirely the results of their steadfast perseverance. nobody ever earnestly reaches out for a thing until he feels that he needs it, consequently, the sons and daughters of the rich are seldom the benefactors of humanity in the way so many poor men and women have been through the inventions which have lightened the drudgery of millions of homes, as well as increased marvelously the productions of the soil and of the factory. had the talents of the rich been put to the test by hunger or cold or the many other incentives to vigorous thought and action which impel the poor, they also might have many inventions to their credit, for the longing of the normal soul furnishes the basis of all the worthy activities of life. the greatest drawback for rich men's sons and daughters is in having all their wants supplied from the bank-account of indulgent parents. they are taught neither industry, economy, nor self-control, which often makes them a social menace. they lack appreciation for so many of the things in life which help to brighten the path of the poor, solely because they have never needed them. a hungry boy who has stood on the outside of a bakery, clinging to a nickel and fighting a battle with himself whether to invest it in a bit of bread or to take it home to his mother, who has had neither breakfast nor dinner, fully understands the value of a dollar. the superintendent of the patent office at washington has confirmed the official report of the french patent office--that there has been no invention of especial value which has not been either found or improved upon by some poor man. the best life-preserver was invented by a sailor who had fallen overboard and had been nearly drowned. an obscure native of a duchy bordered on three sides by powerful nations invented the quick-firing gun, which can fire six hundred shots while the ordinary gun is being loaded. it was a poor cambridge machinist, whose family often suffered from lack of food, who invented the sewing-machine, which has changed the condition of home life throughout the world, and relieved women of one of their great household burdens. the ship's chronometer was made practical for navigation by a man who had been lost at sea and despaired of ever again reaching the shore. the locomotive, which has contributed more than any other one thing to the spread of our people over our vast country, was given to the world by an englishman, stephenson, who in early life had been so poor that he had little schooling. more than eight hundred agricultural inventions were patented in and , and every one of them is the invention of some poor man or woman. as inventors, women have in recent years become close competitors of men, and from kitchen utensils to floor covering have added much to home comfort and home furnishing. all the household articles exhibited lately in a large shop in chicago were either invented or improved by women. they have invented many things for agriculture, for manufacturing, and for school furnishings--and not a few of the great patents which have been issued to men should have been issued to their wives. women have often awaked an idea which men have wrought out for practical purposes. the majority of the benefactors of the world made their discoveries to relieve some necessity which oppressed them personally. this is especially true of stock-breeding, where the improvements of observant men have so greatly increased the value of domestic animals. the value of any study depends entirely upon what it has done for us and what we are doing with it. lowell says that mere learning is as insignificant as the collection of old postage-stamps. professor virchow was obliged to try various foods in his experiments with his own cats, before he discovered what has ever since been of such benefit to all breeders of animals throughout the world. from the earliest days the bee has offered a store of the most useful information, but it would never have been known had it not been for such patient observers as huber, who, although blind, discovered more about bees than the world had ever known before his day, through the patient service of his wife and valet. the mouse in the field, the squirrel in the tree, the eagle in her nest, the fish in the brook, all have taught us valuable lessons in conduct. they have doubtless given hints which have enabled observant men to give mankind many a useful invention. when we consider the many thousands of useful inventions which have added so much to the convenience and the happiness of life, and when we bring to mind how almost all of these have come from the humblest of the sons of men with none of the advantages of the so-called higher education, of which we hear so much to-day, we are forced to agree with sir walter scott that the best part of every man's education is that which he gives himself independent of text-books other than the book of life. every real man and woman attends a school or college, not to learn, but to learn how to learn. this is the best work that schools of any description can do. it lays a firm foundation upon which the man who has learned how to learn can build his own superstructure. the men who have achieved success in the march of the ages are those who have been the architects of their own life. nobody cares a fig where we get our educational tools. the world is interested only in what we are doing with them. _we_ must be _self-made_ or _never-made_, whether we go to college or work in the fields. one teacher can be serviceable to a thousand of the sort who intend to make themselves, but a thousand teachers cannot help one of the other sort. heredity and environment and will are the great deciding factors in every life. investigations as to the food values of meats, grains, fruits, vegetables, and other foods are now being made by the government, by colleges, and other investigators. this is the movement of _supreme_ importance for the uplift of humanity. but the most of this kind of investigating has been done in household kitchens. it is probable that many of the greatest discoveries as to food will hereafter be made in the same places by those who are inclined to observe. the need of closer scientific knowledge of the chemistry of digestion and the chemistry of food is vital; it should call forth the most self-sacrificing investigation. it is said by those who have carefully studied the subject that ninety-one per cent. of all disease is attributable directly or indirectly to the stomach. our ailments come mainly from our aliments. nourishing food is an essential of a noble life. the stomach is the master of the house, and must be respected. a proper diet and a sound head are closely allied, and those who will rightly exercise their soul-powers must be watchful of the stomach. those who would rule and lead must have chest and stomach as well as head and will. nobody else has such opportunities for observing the effects of food, and for studying the happy results of nutritious food, as those have who prepare the meals in the kitchen. proper nourishment is something which touches humanity on every side, and deserves the closest attention of the greatest minds. we can better afford to dispense with scientific experts in every other line which now engages them than to dispense with those who investigate the food question. the idea among the myriads of american housekeepers, that it is ignoble drudgery to spend some of their time in their kitchens ministering to the health of those who are nearest and dearest to them and removing diseases from them through well-selected and well-cooked food, is being gradually overcome by many schools and colleges. the sciences connected with food are now placed among the most important subjects in the curricula of these schools. it takes a master mind to handle the chemical combinations of the kitchen, which make hale and happy men and women, boys and girls. health is symmetry; disease is deformity; both are mainly the result of what we eat. food has killed more than the sword in every age, and is perhaps killing more to-day than ever before. achievement in soul-growth and material-growth is involved in the question of proper food. if women forsake the throne that rightly belongs to the cook, men must assume it or christian civilization shall cease. to-day nobody can become so supreme a benefactor of humanity as the man or the woman who devotes intellect and all other power to the study of scientific eating. when we come rightly to understand all the vital questions that are involved in nutrition, we shall feel that the kings among men and the queens among women are to be sought in no higher place than in kitchens. we are forever searching among the stars to discover kings, when they are far oftener found in cottages in the valley. if universities fail to make the knowledge of the right nutrition practical and fail to bring it down where humble men and women may get it and apply it, the fault is their own. some day a people grateful for the health they enjoy may elect a man to the presidency of our nation, or set him upon some throne, because he is the best scientific cook in the land. doctor agnew of philadelphia said that he had gained his most important knowledge of hospital work as an adviser of the dietitians while feeding his dog and his cat. in speaking of the discovery of radium by madame curie, professor virchow said that he had often felt that our investigators had not taken sufficient notice of the force of animal electricity. the few experiments already made in applying to machinery electricity generated by the human body has opened up a field for observant scientists. in many ways both birds and beasts contribute to the welfare of humanity, and the observing thinker will still find many more ways in which he can aid us. all forms of life can be harnessed to the car of civilization, and far more effective work shall be done than is being done to-day. as teachers and as subjects of practical investigation, animals supply a great university which almost every man and woman can attend. iv home reading carlyle says that a collection of books is a true university in these days. it might be added that often the smaller the collection the larger shall be the university. education derived from libraries is unsafe, for book-dissipation, as well as drunkenness, ends in debauchery. toward the end of his long and wide-awake life doctor holmes advised a young correspondent to confine his reading to the bible, shakespeare, and a good dictionary. the list of men who have been lifted to higher regions of thought and feeling and action from reading any one of these three would be too long to be compressed within the covers of one book. books are like two-edged swords--dangerous unless one knows how to use them; they either lead up or drag down, and we sink or rise to the level of the books we read. every one reads, but how many read to advantage? goethe, the greatest of all the very greatest germans, said, "i have been learning how to read for the past fifty years, but have not yet succeeded." the majority of readers resemble hour-glasses--their reading runs in and out, and leaves no traces; and some others are like housewives' jelly-bags--they pass all that is good, and retain only the refuse. at best, only a small percentage of our life is spent in school; the greater part of the remainder each must pass in the university of daily life, where our education is derived from experience gained through _close observation_ in daily contact with our fellows, and from the fellowship of books. fellowship fits the relation perfectly, for there must be intimate intercourse such as this word implies, or _nothing_. it is with books as with life--a man profits little from being merely _acquainted_ with ten thousand, and he may be incalculably injured from his intercourse with them; but a few _choice_ friends--often the _fewer_ the better--bring a steady growth of higher spiritual power greater than can be had from all other influences combined. so it is with books. acquaintance with a thousand often renders a capable man impotent. but a few _choice_ friends with whom he frequently and earnestly communes lift him in strength of intellect and will and tenderness and sweetness of feeling to be the peer of the worthiest. the beginning of new england was the golden age of scholarship in america, for many of the founders of these colonies had been reared in english universities. such was the struggle in these bleak and barren colonies for existence during the first years, that in a few generations the majority of their posterity were strangers to almost all the books of _power_ and _knowledge_ with which their forefathers were acquainted, and were forced to glean all they harvested from the bible and the almanac--especially the almanac. the almanac was eagerly perused by every member of the family from the dawn of the year to its setting. the reputed thrift of the plain people in this corner of the great world is largely attributable to the lessons of the almanac--mainly _poor richard's almanac_, which the bostonian, franklin, annually edited in philadelphia for over a quarter of a century. his chief purpose was to drive home forcibly many lessons which might encourage the colonists to get the most out of their hard and isolated lives. peabody, the successful man of business and munificent philanthropist, said that an almanac and a jack-knife were the foundation of the education through which he ultimately did so much good for multitudes of his countrymen. it should be interesting and instructive to know how many more, during the "jack-knife epoch" in new england and the generations since that time, have been indebted to one book for the pluck and perseverance by which they have carved out a place of honor for themselves. never were books so eagerly, so often, and so carefully read as these poor almanacs. never, perhaps, has any other book except the bible been so potent an influence in shaping the life of a nation and shaping it to a _high place among the nations_, whose beneficent influences have humanized the world. many a writer has reminded us that the almanac was the text-book studied by our ancestry in beginning the enormous agricultural, commercial, mercantile, manufacturing, and financial interests which in four generations have placed us in front of the richest nations of the earth. think of the many millions of dollars invested in library-buildings and the many millions more invested in the books they shelter! think of the five hundred millions spent annually in public education, and the hundreds of millions that have been put into college buildings and college breeding! still, from all this stupendous investment there will never come men and women who will make any more out of their learning than thousands of men and women of colonial days who knew the contents of no books other than the bible and the almanac. the quality of the literary attainment of those reared in a library may be higher--and perhaps not; but wider and deeper self-knowledge, self-respect, self-confidence, self-culture, self-control, are the supreme objects of all life-struggle and educational struggle. where a man gets the educational tools with which to accomplish all this is not at all important. if an almanac can help one man to get the same life-result as another man gets from the polishing of the greatest universities in the world, the almanac is the peer of the university. whether materials as insignificant as the almanac have been used to attain just such results, the history of our country and of several other countries can readily prove. three books made up the library of lincoln, the rail-splitter, of edison and carnegie, the telegraph operators; but no three men of the nation were ever more successful in reaching the goals they set for themselves. books are to-day the great universal means of _knowing_, and knowing them depends upon reading them rightly. it is not so important how _many_ books we read, but how we read them. a well-read fool is one of the most pestilential of blockheads. one book _read_ avails more than a thousand _skimmed_. little reading and much thinking make a wise man; much reading and little thinking has bred the race which the _plain_ people call "learned fools," and these are mainly responsible for any ridicule that is put upon the work of school and college. in these days when the printing-press has largely superseded the pulpit and the platform, it is vitally important that men shall be taught how to read rightly and shall be helped to habits of right reading; and no school or college that is decently interested in the welfare of the people can disregard this one duty of teachers _above all others_. much of the best in thought and feeling and conduct shall depend hereafter upon the books which we read with careful observation. every man who has read himself into higher realms is under bonds to make the source of so much bliss and blessedness as admirable and as desirable as possible to all who are strangers to the most pleasant and profitable paths of literature. it is not the quantity of our reading, but the quality that makes it and us an influence for good to our fellows. a man who has read ten pages with real accuracy, says john ruskin, is forevermore in some measure an educated person. you might read all the books in the british museum, yet be an utterly illiterate and uneducated person. our reading without digestion and assimilation is as useless as our food without them. bacon says that reading makes a _full_ man; but fullness without digestion is dyspepsia. the books whose reading impels us to live nobly and do noble service for others, are _the_ books, and it is a wicked waste of time to read what is a negative quantity. whoever masters _one vital_ book can never become commonplace. _thoroughness_ is the master-passion in reading, as in every other undertaking. those who have accumulated wisdom, culture, power, riches, are always prominent for their indefatigable, painstaking thoroughness; nothing to them is a trifle, for "trifles make perfection, and perfection is no trifle." those who have thought most and felt most and done most from their reading have brought this master passion to it. when we begin to become acquainted with all the worthy men and women who trace the beginning of their worth to the careful reading of one book, it seems almost a loss to the world to have the libraries of the world so large. if they were all respectable occupants of their shelves, it might be condoned; but the copyright of millions of books is the only right, human or divine, for their existing at all. many a country boy at the fireside during the long winter evenings has received inspiration from repeatedly reading one or two worthy books; these have spurred him on to fight his way valiantly through college, and from there to the heights in some worthy life-work. if we are true to all that _manhood_ involves, there is no self-deception in the conviction that each one of us is born for kingship. supreme kingship "consists in a stronger _moral_ state and a truer _thoughtful_ state than that of other men, which enables us to _guide_ and _raise_ the misguided and the illiterate." every thoughtful man and woman ultimately discovers that "all _education_ and all _literature_ are useful only so far as they confirm this calm and beneficent kingly power." emerson's "man-thinking" is the supreme among human beings. the best that can be known and experienced lies asleep in books, and one of the chief purposes for getting an education is to give us the _well-made_ head and the _finer_ feeling to awake this best knowledge and experience in these sleeping princes. de quincey reminds us that all the greatest books may be divided into the literature of _knowledge_ and the literature of _power_. they have all been written in utmost sincerity by the _right_-minded and the _strong_-minded; they disclose boundless fields for soul-_refreshment_ and soul-_expansion_. in the march of civilization, the men and the nations that have forged farthest ahead since gutenberg invented printing are the men and the nations that have had most to do with the few books of _knowledge_ and _power_ of the greatest and the wisest. there can be no better test of a man's thought and feelings and actions than the books he reads and the books he keeps around him; and there is none so desolate as the poor _rich_ man who lives in a great bookless house, and "has never fed upon the dainties that are bred in books," as john milton says. the very presence of books is refining, and the right kind of man would as soon think of building his house without windows as of furnishing it without books. in every well-regulated home of intelligent men and women the library is always one of the annual items of expenditure. when we have learned how to consult the books of _knowledge_ and _power_, they let us mingle with the best society of all ages; they make the _mightiest_ men and women of words and deeds our advisers; they bring us the gold of learning and the gems of thought; and they furnish us with the soul-_food_ which brings the proper kind of soul-_growth_. such books are the safest of companions, for they protect us from vice and the inferior passions; more than ever they are to-day _indispensable_ for all who are striving to do the higher work of civilization and _christianity_. every _real_ book we _really_ read gives us greater faith in the _goodness_ and the _nobility_ of life. as lowell says, "adds another block to the climbing spire of a great soul." the other sort which "swarm from the cozy marshes of immoral brains," the sort also who "rack their brains for lucre," do the devil's work for him, and are as baneful as the company of fools and vulgarians. show an observant man your bookshelves, and he'll tell you what you are. the man who does not _love_ some great book is not worth the time we spend in his company; we are fortunate if we are not in some way contaminated by him. if we knew the road they have traveled, we should likely find that those of modern times who have merited the crown of kings and queens for their stronger _moral_ state and their _truer thoughtful_ state have had most to do with some literature of knowledge and power; that they especially oftenest consulted the books of the greatest and wisest in their difficulties, and had been spurred on by their messages to the thoughts and the deeds which made them worthy. it is fortunate that to-day the greatest of books are the common property of the printers of the world, for they are on this account the cheapest, and many of them can be had for the price of a poor man's dinner. it needs many a page to record even the names of the men and women who have become _somebody_ and have done _something_ just from reading some one worthy book which had fallen into their hands. many believe that franklin is the greatest american that has yet appeared, and he has said that "cotton mather's _essays to do good_ gave me a turn of thinking which, perhaps, had an influence on some of the principal future events of my life." as we become better acquainted with some of the _great_ books in all departments of literature, we are surprised to find how few of them have been written by college men. this by no means belittles the good that may come from a _true_ college course, but it does seem to emphasize that great books need some other environment for their growth than exclusive college courses. perhaps the need is _solitude_, communion with nature, and frequent intercourse with the world's greatest and best in thought and feeling and action for the work. college-bred men are in a marked minority among the authors whose great books have been and are a potent force in shaping thought and conduct in the world. it is notable how few of these have anything commendatory to say about the influence which their college life had upon them and their accomplishments; many even of the text-books of schools and colleges have come from men whose powers were shaped by no school. how many text-books of medicine and law were prepared by physicians and lawyers whose knowledge was gleaned mainly from keen observation and long experience and deep thought! it was no mere college education, but the sharpest home observation and strictest adherence to their instincts and their individuality that made forceful writers of mark twain, the mississippi pilot; bret harte and william dean howells, the typesetters; james whitcomb riley, the itinerant sign-painter; joel chandler harris and eugene field, the newspaper reporters; and walt whitman, the carpenter. of the four thousand and forty-three americans with over twenty millions of dollars to their credit, only sixty-one had even a _high-school_ course. many among them, however, had high-class mentality and secured a comprehensive practical education. they have evidently been as alert to perceive the treasures hidden for them in the world of great books as they have been to perceive the treasuries hidden for them in their various enterprises. so we find that they have consulted the master spirits of books after their daily tasks were done, while myriads of those who scoff and sneer at them now because of their millions were feasting, frolicking, and dissipating. among the highest types of american manhood to-day a large majority are the _new-rich_ men. whatever else may be said about them, all the world acknowledges that it is the parvenus in every land who do the largest part of the greatest work. the larger our horizon becomes, the stronger is our conviction that the man himself is _mainly_ the architect of his own fate; others may give an occasional lift, but it is almost entirely his own work. the college can do something for the _head-piece_, and it should also give something for the _heart-side_ and the power to dare and to do; but all the external training in the world can never attain for the man what he can attain through his own individual efforts--provided he has lofty aims, firm resolutions, closely observes, and strictly adheres to all his best inborn powers. there was no college for david, homer, socrates, plato, confucius, alexander, cæsar, dante, luther, shakespeare, napoleon, washington, franklin, goethe, jesus, and tens of thousands of great or lesser men than these. they all marked out their own course, planned their own spiritual palaces; all the barbed-wire entanglements in the world did not retard their indomitable courage, self-reliance, and self-help. perhaps the chief use of all learning establishments, except those which have to do with what the germans call _bread studies_, is to awaken the pupil's self-respect, which is the basis of all virtue, and to cultivate the powers that shall fit the pupil to consult for himself the _knowledge_ and _power_ books of the greatest and the wisest. they also can in these days do yeoman's service in giving the _bread studies_ through which men shall be better able to do the world's work and thereby earn better wages. v thoughtfulness president wolsey, head of a great university, said that one of the chief purposes of the college is to cultivate the _power to think_. the college man who neglects to cultivate this valuable power until he enters upon his college career, instead of beginning it in the kindergarten and continuing it unremittingly throughout his entire preparatory course and daily living, will be liable to make sorry work of this part of his cultivation, or any other part, while he is in college. the specialists who teach in colleges, and who are generally more interested in their specialties than in the science and art of education, may not be conscious of this, and yet the many educational wrecks that have come from colleges should long ago have brought this point most forcibly to their attention. indeed, the power to think and the practice of thinking until it has become second nature, are so essential for success in any _worthy_ career in life, that it is truer to say that one of the chief purposes of _life_ itself is to cultivate and exercise the power to think, and keep right on thinking until close thinking shall become a habit. the power to think clearly, broadly, and successfully is not necessarily the prerogative of those only who have lived in a college environment, as the biographies of our own four thousand multi-millionaires in this country so cogently prove, for few of them ever darkened the doors of a college. some among them may have been bereft of all the nobler sentiments for which christianity and america stand, but they never could have piled up their millions in every department of activity without having thought so long and so hard that they ultimately acquired a habit of thinking that should put to shame myriads in every land who have had all the advantages of universities. the power to think, and to think in a masterly way, need not be confined to the professor's chair. any sphere of action which does not bring in to the worker an increase of thinking power is harmful, from university to street-sweeping. a machine is the only worker that can do its work well without thinking about it. all the successful men the world has ever known have been men who thought incessantly; they have been mainly self-educated in their extraordinary power to think; their success in all the various tasks which they set for themselves oftener resulted from their hard thought than from their hard work. defeat and failure have never overtaken the man whose head and hands were partners. when we think without work or work without thought, we reach only half of what belong to us. a man should especially ween himself from this kind of halfness. we should be ashamed to find ourselves working without thought, as we should be ashamed to find ourselves idle in a world where there is always so much to be done and so little time allotted to each for accomplishing worthy work. the employees that are most valuable to their employers and are most valued by them are those always whose heads and hands are yoke-mates. when hands and head and heart are on the job, it is difficult to imagine what heights of success and service shall be attained. the farmer boy hoeing corn and digging potatoes will do better work in quantity and quality if he thinks about his work as hard as he hoes or digs. there can be little danger of failure for any young man who begins his life-work with the resolution that he will always give his best thought to even the most insignificant task that he assumes; and all the schools in the world cannot furnish him any advantage that can compare with this resolution steadily followed. nor must the habit of thinking be exercised only upon work. we all have more leisure than work, and many a high-minded thinker has reminded us that a man is best to be judged, not by his profession, but by his leisure. elihu burritt acquired a knowledge of fifty languages during the years he earned his livelihood as a village blacksmith; he also found time for extensive reading as well as time for interest in social reforms, in the advancement of which he won the reputation of being one of the most powerful and persuasive orators of his day. all his stupendous acquirements were gained during the hours between his tasks which thousands of other village blacksmiths were accustomed to spend in gossip or in the tavern. volumes could be filled with only _brief_ accounts of the men and women throughout the ages who have made the world better for their living, just because they wisely and thoughtfully employed the leisure hours which their contemporaries trifled away. the shortest life may be long in noble thought and action, if we lose no time; and little of it is ever lost by those who thoughtfully employ their leisure. thoughtful men and women are always doubly valuable, no matter whether their work is what the world calls high-class or low-class. the streets are better swept by such a man, and the potatoes are better hoed; the floor is better scrubbed by such a woman, and the clothes are better washed. if our work does not afford us the chance to think while we are employed upon it, we owe it to ourselves and to humanity to toss it aside quickly. the lawyer, the physician, or any other professional man is no more a man in the sight of god and his country than the stone-mason who lays the foundations for their houses and raises the superstructures; and they are under no greater obligation to use their thinking powers than he is. the place we occupy in life is unimportant; the way we fill the place is everything; the stone-mason, ben jonson, built stone walls and houses by day, and at night built dramas and other poetry which have been surpassed only by his contemporary, shakespeare. many of the greatest achievements known to history have been the work of men and women whose life-tasks were entirely different from the lines in which they became eminent; shakespeare was an actor and one of the most successful business men of london, but he is known as the greatest poet the world has yet produced; george eliot had charge for several years of her father's farm home, as well as the poultry and dairy, and won prizes for these at the country fair, but this did not prevent her from laying, during these seven years, the foundation which helped her to build herself into one of the greatest women known to history. herschel's being a musician and mary somerville's having charge of her home and her children did not prevent both of them from doing marvelous work in astronomy. audubon became a final authority on birds solely because while on his hunting-trips he thought more than the other hunters who accompanied him. one of the greatest merchants and capitalists in boston began life selling handkerchiefs through the country. he became expert in flax products, and through this grew rich; he so studied kindred fibrous plants that his partners boasted that he had succeeded in marketing handkerchiefs made of twenty different fibrous plants. the most successful piano manufacturer now living was originally an employee of a steel mill that manufactured wire for making piano-strings. an every-day man gave careful thought to corn, and wrote an article for a magazine upon its value and upon the way it should be prepared for food; and this article was so worthy that it won for him a degree from a university. every waking moment of every man contains food for thought. if some live fuller lives every twenty-four hours than others live in a year, it is because they think faster and higher, wider and deeper, and because the discipline they get from this thought keeps them from wasting their time on trivial or worthless matter. a puddler in youngstown, without education beyond the district school, began to think about the iron that was softened in the furnace before him, and asked questions of the older employees and the foreman; then he read upon the subject and became so capable in mining and iron manufacturing that when the youngstown plant was sold to the great steel corporation he was the largest stockholder in forty-seven great companies manufacturing iron. some men's hearts grow as hard as their gold while they are amassing riches; but his heart seems to have softened in proportion to the increase of his riches; his life is given to numberless good deeds, chief among which has been his endeavor to impress upon all workmen the necessity of letting both their heads and hearts assist their hands. neither man nor boy, woman nor girl, need despair of doing great things and being great men and women, if they will constantly carry out this advice. he is really the best-educated man whose attention is primarily directed to his soul-growth, to his power of thinking, for feeling, and for noble action. vi instincts and individuality "god has given us a full kit of watchmaker's tools" and if, after all the centuries of civilization, "we are doing _thinker's_ work with them," something must be wrong with the educational methods. when god sent us here he packed us with all we need for high-class manhood--our _instincts_ and our _individuality_ especially well done up; but often in the unpacking by the schools we have been sadly marred; and these god-given endowments seem to have been frequently thrown upon the rubbish-pile. they seem to have dulled our instincts and to have despised our individuality, in order to make room for our acquirements. like all that emanates from god, instincts and individuality have been bestowed for a wise purpose; they are _indispensable_ endowments if we shall become the kind of man god seems to have had in mind when he sent us here. what justification have the teachers of civilization for failing to perfect these powers? what right have the _little_ men of the schools to drive them entirely out of their scheme of education? john ruskin complains in _kings' treasuries_ that "modern education for the most part signifies giving people the faculty of thinking wrong on every conceivable subject of importance to them." if this is even partly true, there is no pursuit to-day that demands from the man who is working in it more _presence of mind_ and more _self-direction_, than the business of getting _real_ education. those who are to-day conducting what we are foolish enough to permit them to call _education_ are often both blind and deaf to all that efficient education implies. to seek direction from them is like asking the road from a blind man. many are also connected with the schools apparently as others are connected with hod-carrying and street-sweeping--to procure a livelihood. often their highest conception of the work is _edge_ucation, to make sharp blades of the intellects for what they call "getting along in the world." then many of the instructors in schools and colleges are merely specialists, mainly interested in their specialties, and using the class-room as a stepping-stone to their own purposes. extreme specializing is narrowing--it does to the specialist what blinkers do to the horse's eyes. excessive pursuit of single objects of thought atrophies many faculties, but _education_ is the _complete_ development and discipline of all the faculties. perhaps these are some of the causes why so many _original_ and _thinking_ men and women are so hostile to present-day schools, and accuse them of mainly being "places that polish pebbles and dim diamonds," and say so many other harsh and cutting things about them. learning seems to be the _chief_ occupation of those who profess to educate. learning for its _own_ sake plays a very _insignificant_ part in the spiritual equipment of god's children; to a _true_ education it seems at best only what the carpenter's kit is to the carpenter--a means to an end. like all other lumber, its importance depends entirely upon what is built out of it. these original and thinking men and women have often said hard things of mere learning and of those who dole it out at so much a _unit_, because they believe that undue stress is laid upon it. they sometimes say that universities are not _educating_ institutions, but merely _seats-of-learning_; and often they are very _narrow_ seats, difficult for self-respecting people to stiffen their backs enough to sit upon. but it's the _study_, not the studies, that educates; studies make _learned_ men, but not often _wise_ men, such as _real_ education always makes; not all learned heads are _sense_-boxes; the _very_ learned man may be a very learned fool. the learned frequently put out their reasoning powers to make room for their learning; it requires ten pounds of _sense_ to take care of one pound of learning. solomon made a book of proverbs, but a book of proverbs never made solomon. sense without learning is a thousand times superior to learning without sense; and in the stately edifice of life, school and college are only the basement walls; wisdom and learning are not necessary companions. the great things that have conduced to the betterment of the world have been done by men who have been loyal to their individuality and true to their instincts--never by the merely learned. too often do we find these little learned men "displaying themselves offensively and ridiculously in the haunts of bearded men," and making the angels weep by their strutting and their swelling. _knowing_ is only a _small_ part of life; _doing_ is nearly _all_ of life; and the _best_ done is done through _education_--the education which is the product of what is _inborn_ as well as of what is _acquired_; the education which enables men and women to perceive and to cherish the _beautiful_ in art, in literature, in morals and in nature. while true education busies itself with acquirements, it is even more concerned that the instincts and the individuality god appears to regard of supreme importance shall attain all that it is possible for them to have. these original and thinking men and women who say so many things in condemnation of _make-believe_ education and mere learning boldly and lovingly acclaim the helps from true education--they remind us that it is soul-husbandry, spiritual perfection, torch and sword and shield, the _be-all_ and the _end-all_ of life, the fountain of all noble living, and the only real promoter of civilization. they claim that education of this sort simplifies life; facilitates self-conquest; intensifies individuality; unfolds and uplifts manhood; breeds habits of thinking, feeling, and doing; debestializes, emancipates, humbles, and civilizes; that it searches for truth, loves the beautiful, desires the good, and does the best. we have no quarrel with the education that accomplishes all these, for it fosters the instincts and the individuality for which we are pleading. we have always believed that just this kind of education is the heritage of every american, and that the loss of such an education is the greatest calamity that can befall any one. all our life have we yearned that all might have this boon, and the best of our manhood years have been ceaseless labor and struggle to give "the weak and friendless sons of men" all of its advantages. the test of any system of education is the kind of man it turns out. it is wisdom to measure the system by those it fails to educate rather than by those it does educate--by its tortoises rather than by its hares. the real educator is always vastly more concerned with the divinity than with the depravity of those intrusted to him; he believes firmly that the instincts and the individuality which god has given each of us are the priceless part of all our spiritual equipment--that anything we may acquire toward this end which fortifies these god-given treasures is cheap--even if bought by an entire life-service; that any acquirement that modifies these or destroys them is a triple curse and a dire menace to humanity, for individuality is the genius of christianity and of america. the system of education which makes light of the cultivation of the instincts, which seems to be the sole dependence of all conditions of men except the over-civilized, the system of education which is blinded to all that is implied in an educated individuality--these are the only systems with which we have any quarrel. well-made, rather than well-filled heads are what is needed and should be demanded, without which it is impossible for any one of us to have the right conception of life, or to attain all that we were intended to be or to do. to guard and develop the instincts of the child, to preserve and fortify his individuality, is to give him sword and shield for the battle of life. god intends each individual to be an individual, or this should not have been so deep-rooted in all; to be just like every one else is to be predestined for inferiority and failure. to do our duty consistently and steadfastly demands that all our god-like and god-given qualities shall first of all be educated. that best becomes a man which his individuality intended him to be, and those are always successful in making a life and a living who play the game of life with the cards their individuality gives them. god made a world for each separate man, and within that world he _must_ live, if he will live effectually; we must first of all be ourselves, must see to it that whatever else is neglected the plants god has put into the individual shall be cultivated--the crop may not be large, but we are accountable for the cultivation, not for the crop. we must be ourselves, and do our own work. there can be no greater wisdom and no greater service than that of helping another so that he may duly live in that special world which god has created for him. the most insignificant man can be complete if he is entirely true to his instincts and to his individual character. if we are incomplete, it is because we are living after some other method. we have all been stamped with individuality, but many seem to do their utmost to soak off the stamp. how different should the life of all the world be if each one only kept in his frame, and would not permit any one to try to make him part of, the picture for which his personality never intended him! the story of chautauqua [illustration: lewis miller ( )] the story of chautauqua by jesse lyman hurlbut, d.d. author of "the story of the bible," "teacher training lessons for the sunday school," etc. [illustration] _with illustrations_ g. p. putnam's sons new york and london the knickerbocker press copyright, by jesse l. hurlbut _printed in the united states of america_ _this book is dedicated to the honoured memory of the two founders of chautauqua_ =lewis miller= _and_ =john heyl vincent= preface why and wherefore an ancient writer--i forget his name--declared that in one of the city-states of greece there was the rule that when any citizen proposed a new law or the repeal of an old one, he should come to the popular assembly with a rope around his neck, and if his proposition failed of adoption, he was to be immediately hanged. it is said that amendments to the constitution of that state were rarely presented, and the people managed to live under a few time-honored laws. it is possible that some such drastic treatment may yet be meted out to authors--and perhaps to publishers--as a last resort to check the flood of useless literature. to anticipate this impending constitutional amendment, it is incumbent upon every writer of a book to show that his work is needed by the world, and this i propose to do in these prefatory pages. is chautauqua great enough, original enough, sufficiently beneficial to the world to have its history written? we will not accept the votes of the thousands who beside the lake, in the hall of philosophy, or under the roof of the amphitheater, have been inoculated with the chautauqua spirit. we will seek for the testimony of sane, intelligent, and thoughtful people, and we will be guided in our conclusions by their opinions. let us listen to the words of the wise and then determine whether a book about chautauqua should be published. we have the utterances by word of mouth and the written statements of public men, governors, senators, presidents; of educators, professors, and college presidents; of preachers and ecclesiastics in many churches; of speakers upon many platforms; of authors whose works are read everywhere; and we present their testimonials as a sufficient warrant for the preparation and publication of _the story of chautauqua_. the hon. george w. atkinson, governor of west virginia, visited chautauqua in , and in his recognition day address on "modern educational requirements" spoke as follows: it (chautauqua) is the common people's college, and its courses of instruction are so admirably arranged that it somehow induces the toiling millions to voluntarily grapple with all subjects and with all knowledge. my chautauqua courses have taught me that what we need most is only so much knowledge as we can assimilate and organize into a basis for action; for if more be given it may become injurious. chautauqua is doing more to nourish the intellects of the masses than any other system of education extant; except the public schools of the common country. here is the testimony of ex-governor adolph o. eberhardt of minnesota: if i had the choice of being the founder of any great movement the world has ever known, i would choose the chautauqua movement. the hon. william jennings bryan, from the point of view of a speaker upon many chautauqua platforms, wrote: the privilege and opportunity of addressing from one to seven or eight thousand of his fellow americans in the chautauqua frame of mind, in the mood which almost as clearly asserts itself under the tent or amphitheater as does reverence under the "dim, religious light"--this privilege and this opportunity is one of the greatest that any patriotic american could ask. it makes of him, if he knows it and can rise to its requirements, a potent human factor in molding the mind of the nation. viscount james bryce, ambassador of great britain to the united states, and author of _the american commonwealth_, the most illuminating work ever written on the american system of government, said, while visiting chautauqua: i do not think any country in the world but america could produce such gatherings as chautauqua's. six presidents of the united states have thought it worth while to visit chautauqua, either before, or during, or after their term of office. these were grant, hayes, garfield, mckinley, roosevelt, and taft. theodore roosevelt was at chautauqua four times. he said on his last visit, in , "chautauqua is the most american thing in america"; and also: this chautauqua has made the name chautauqua a name of a multitude of gatherings all over the union, and there is probably no other educational influence in the country quite so fraught with hope for the future of the nation as this and the movement of which it is the archtype. let us see what some journalists and writers have said about chautauqua. here is the opinion of dr. lyman abbott, editor of _the outlook_, and a leader of thought in our time: chautauqua has inspired the habit of reading with a purpose. it is really not much use to read, except as an occasional recreation, unless the reading inspires one to think his own thoughts, or at least make the writer's thoughts his own. reading without reflection, like eating without digestion, produces dyspepsia. the influence and guidance of chautauqua will long be needed in america. the religious influence of chautauqua has been not less valuable. chautauqua has met the restless questioning of the age in the only way in which it can be successfully met, by converting it into a serious seeking for rest in truth. dr. edwin e. slosson, formerly professor in columbia university, now literary editor of the _independent_, wrote in that paper: if i were a cartoonist, i should symbolize chautauqua by a tall greek goddess, a sylvan goddess with leaves in her hair--not vine leaves, but oak, and tearing open the bars of a cage wherein had been confined a bird, say an owl, labeled "learning." for that is what chautauqua has done for the world--it has let learning loose. from the american _review of reviews_, july, : the president of a large technical school is quoted as having said that ten per cent. of the students in the institution over which he presides owe their presence to chautauqua influence. a talk on civic beauty or sanitation by an expert from the chautauqua platform often results in bringing these matters to local attention for the first time. here is an extract from _the world to-day_: old-time politics is dead in the states of the middle west. the torchlight parade, the gasoline lamps, and the street orator draw but little attention. the "republican rally" in the court-house and the "democratic barbecue" in the grove have lost their potency. people turn to the chautauquas to be taught politics along with domestic science, hygiene, and child-welfare. mr. john graham brooks, lecturer on historical, political, and social subjects, author of works widely circulated and highly esteemed, has given courses of lectures at chautauqua, and has expressed his estimate in these words: after close observation of the work at chautauqua, and at other points in the country where its affiliated work goes on, i can say with confidence that it is among the most enlightening of our educational agencies in the united states. dr. a. v. v. raymond, while president of union college in new york state, gave this testimony: chautauqua has its own place in the educational world, a place as honorable as it is distinctive; and those of us who are laboring in other fields, by other methods, have only admiration and praise for the great work which has made chautauqua in the best sense a household word throughout the land. mr. edward howard griggs, who is in greater demand than almost any other lecturer on literary and historical themes, in his recognition day address, in , on "culture through vocation," said as follows: the chautauqua movement as conceived by its leaders is a great movement for cultivating an avocation apart from the main business of life, not only giving larger vision, better intellectual training, but giving more earnest desire and greater ability to serve and grow through the vocation. this from dr. william t. harris, united states commissioner of education: think of one hundred thousand persons of mature age following up a well-selected course of reading for four years in science and literature, kindling their torches at a central flame! think of the millions of friends and neighbors of this hundred thousand made to hear of the new ideas and of the inspirations that result to the workers! it is a part of the great missionary movement that began with christianity and moves onward with christian civilization. i congratulate all members of chautauqua reading circles on their connection with this great movement which has begun under such favorable auspices and has spread so widely, is already world-historical, and is destined to unfold so many new phases. prof. albert s. cook, of yale university, wrote in _the forum_: as nearly as i can formulate it, the chautauqua idea is something like this: a fraternal, enthusiastic, methodical, and sustained attempt to elevate, enrich, and inspire the individual life in its entirety, by an appeal to the curiosity, hopefulness, and ambition of those who would otherwise be debarred from the greatest opportunities of culture and spiritual advancement. to this end, all uplifting and stimulating forces, whether secular or religious, are made to conspire in their impact upon the person whose weal is sought. . . . can we wonder that chautauqua is a sacred and blessed name to multitudes of americans? the late principal a. m. fairbairn, of mansfield college, oxford, foremost among the thinkers of the last generation, gave many lectures at chautauqua, and expressed himself thus: the c. l. s. c. movement seems to me the most admirable and efficient organization for the direction of reading, and in the best sense for popular instruction. to direct the reading for a period of years for so many thousands is to affect not only their present culture, but to increase their intellectual activity for the period of their natural lives, and thus, among other things, greatly to add to the range of their enjoyment. it appears to me that a system which can create such excellent results merits the most cordial praise from all lovers of men. colonel francis w. parker, superintendent of schools, first at quincy, mass., and later at chicago, one of the leading educators of the land, gave this testimony, after his visit to chautauqua: the new york chautauqua--father and mother of all the other chautauquas in the country--is one of the great institutions founded in the nineteenth century. it is essentially a school for the people. prof. hjalmar h. boyesen, of columbia university, wrote: nowhere else have i had such a vivid sense of contact with what is really and truly american. the national physiognomy was defined to me as never before; and i saw that it was not only instinct with intelligence, earnestness, and indefatigable aspiration, but that it revealed a strong affinity for all that makes for righteousness and the elevation of the race. the confident optimism regarding the future which this discovery fostered was not the least boon i carried away with me from chautauqua. mrs. alice freeman palmer, president of wellesley college, expressed this opinion in a lecture at chautauqua: i could say nothing better than to say over and over again the great truths chautauqua has taught to everyone, that if you have a rounded, completed education you have put yourselves in relation with all the past, with all the great life of the present; you have reached on to the infinite hope of the future. i venture to say there is no man or woman educating himself or herself through chautauqua who will not feel more and more the opportunity of the present moment in a present world. the character of chautauqua's training has been that she has made us wiser than we were about things that last. rev. charles m. sheldon, author of _in his steps_, a story of which three million copies were sold, said: during the past two years i have met nearly a million people from the platform, and no audiences have impressed me as have the chautauqua people for earnestness, deep purpose, and an honest desire to face and work out the great issues of american life. this is from the rev. robert stuart macarthur, the eminent baptist preacher: i regard the chautauqua idea as one of the most important ideas of the hour. this idea, when properly utilized, gives us a "college at home." it is a genuine inspiration toward culture, patriotism, and religion. the general adoption of this course for a generation would give us a new america in all that is noblest in culture and character. dr. edward everett hale, of boston, chaplain of the united states senate, in his _tarry at home travels_, wrote: if you have not spent a week at chautauqua, you do not know your own country. there, and in no other place known to me, do you meet baddeck and newfoundland and florida and tiajuara at the same table; and there you are of one heart and one soul with the forty thousand people who will drift in and out--people all of them who believe in god and their country. more than a generation ago, the name of joseph cook was known throughout the continent as a thinker, a writer, and a lecturer. this is what he wrote of chautauqua: i keep chautauqua in a fireside nook of my inmost affections and prayers. god bless the literary and scientific circle, which is so marvelously successful already in spreading itself as a young vine over the trellis-work of many lands! what rich clusters may ultimately hang on its cosmopolitan branches! it is the glory of america that it believes that all that anybody knows everybody should know. phillips brooks, perhaps the greatest of american preachers, spoke as follows in a lecture on "literature and life": may we not believe--if the students of chautauqua be indeed what we have every right to expect that they will be, men and women thoroughly and healthily alive through their perpetual contact with the facts of life--that when they take the books which have the knowledge in them, like pure water in silver urns, though they will not drink as deeply, they will drink more healthily than many of those who in the deader and more artificial life of college halls bring no such eager vitality to give value to their draught? if i understand chautauqua, this is what it means: it finds its value in the vitality of its students. . . . it summons those who are alive with true human hunger to come and learn of that great world of knowledge of which he who knows the most knows such a very little, and feels more and more, with every increase of his knowledge, how very little it is that he knows. julia ward howe, author of the song beginning "mine eyes have seen the glory," and honored throughout the land as one of the greatest among the women of america, wrote as follows: i am obliged for your kind invitation to be present at the celebration of the twenty-fifth anniversary of the founding of chautauqua assembly. as i cannot well allow myself this pleasure, i send you my hearty congratulations in view of the honorable record of your association. may its good work long continue, even until its leaven shall leaven the whole body of our society. the following letter was received by dr. vincent from one of the most distinguished of the older poets: april , . j. h. vincent, d.d., dear friend: i have been watching the progress of the chautauqua literary and scientific circle inaugurated by thyself, and take some blame to myself for not sooner expressing my satisfaction in regard to its objects and working thus far. i wish it abundant success, and that its circles, like those from the agitated center of the lake, may widen out, until our entire country shall feel their beneficent influences. i am very truly thy friend, john g. whittier. after these endorsements, we may confidently affirm that a book on chautauqua, its story, its principles, and its influence in the world, is warranted. and now, a few words of explanation as to this particular book. the tendency in preparing such a work is to make it documentary, the recital of programs, speakers, and subjects. in order to lighten up the pages, i have sought to tell the story of small things as well as great, the witty as well as the wise words spoken, the record of by-play and repartee upon the platform, in those days when chautauqua speakers were a fraternity. in fact, the title by which the body of workers was known among its members was "the gang." some of these stories are worth preserving, and i have tried to recall and retain them in these pages. jesse lyman hurlbut. feb. , . contents page preface vii chapter i.--the place ii.--the founders iii.--some primal principles iv.--the beginnings v.--the early development vi.--the national centennial year vii.--a new name and new faces viii.--the chautauqua reading circle ix.--chautauqua all the year x.--the school of languages xi.--hotels, headquarters, and handshaking ( ) xii.--democracy and aristocracy at chautauqua ( ) xiii.--the first recognition day ( ) xiv.--some stories of the c. l. s. c. ( , ) xv.--the chaplain's leg and other true tales ( - ) xvi.--a new leaf in luke's gospel ( - ) xvii.--club life at chautauqua ( - ) xviii.--rounding out the old century ( - ) xix.--opening the new century ( - ) xx.--president roosevelt at chautauqua ( - ) xxi.--the pageant of the past ( - ) xxii.--war clouds and war drums ( - ) xxiii.--war and its aftermath ( - ) xxiv.--chautauqua's elder daughters xxv.--younger daughters of chautauqua appendix index illustrations page lewis miller _facing title-page_ john h. vincent steamer in the outlet old business block old amphitheater old auditorium old guest house "the ark" old children's temple lewis miller cottage bishop vincent's tent old steamer "jamestown" oriental house palestine park tent life spouting tree rustic bridge amphitheater audience old palace hotel, etc. old hall of philosophy the golden gate flower girls ( pictures) pioneer hall old college building c.l.s.c. alumni hall chautauqua book store hall of the christ hall of philosophy, entrance congregational house fenton memorial baptist headquarters and mission house presbyterian headquarters and mission house methodist headquarters disciples headquarters unitarian headquarters episcopal chapel lutheran headquarters united presbyterian chapel south ravine muscallonge jacob bolin gymnasium athletic club boys' club headed for camp woman's club house rustic bridge post office building business and administration golf course sherwood memorial traction station arts and crafts building miller bell tower south gymnasium a corner of the playground the story of chautauqua chapter i the place john heyl vincent--a name that spells chautauqua to millions--said: "chautauqua is a _place_, an _idea_, and a _force_." let us first of all look at the place, from which an idea went forth with a living force into the world. [illustration: john h. vincent ( )] the state of new york, exclusive of long island, is shaped somewhat like a gigantic foot, the heel being at manhattan island, the crown at the st. lawrence river, and the toe at the point where pennsylvania touches upon lake erie. near this toe of new york lies lake chautauqua. it is eighteen miles long besides the romantic outlet of three miles, winding its way through forest primeval, and flowing into a shallow stream, the chadakoin river, thence in succession into the allegheny, the ohio, the mississippi, and finally resting in the bosom of the gulf of mexico. as we look at it upon the map, or sail upon it in the steamer, we perceive that it is about three miles across at its widest points, and moreover that it is in reality two lakes connected by a narrower channel, almost separated by two or three peninsulas. the earliest extant map of the lake, made by the way for general washington soon after the revolution (now in the congressional library at washington), represents two separate lakes with a narrow stream between them. the lake receives no rivers or large streams. it is fed by springs beneath, and by a few brooks flowing into it. consequently its water is remarkably pure, since none of the surrounding settlements are permitted to send their sewage into it. the surface of lake chautauqua is feet above the level of the ocean; said to be the highest navigable water in the united states. this is not strictly correct, for lake tahoe on the boundary between nevada and california is more than feet above sea-level. but tahoe is navigated only by motor-boats and small steamers; while lake chautauqua, having a considerable town, mayville, at its northern end, jamestown, a flourishing city at its outlet, and its shores fringed with villages, bears upon its bosom many sizable steam-vessels. it is remarkable that while lake erie falls into the st. lawrence and empties into the atlantic at iceberg-mantled labrador and newfoundland, lake chautauqua only seven miles distant, and of more than seven hundred feet higher altitude, finds its resting place in the warm gulf of mexico. between these two lakes is the watershed for this part of the continent. an old barn is pointed out, five miles from lake chautauqua, whereof it is said that the rain falling on one side of its roof runs into lake erie and the st. lawrence, while the drops on the other side through a pebbly brook find their way by lake chautauqua into the mississippi. nobody knows, or will ever know, how this lake got its smooth-sounding indian name. some tell us that the word means "the place of mists"; others, "the place high up"; still others that its form, two lakes with a passage between, gave it the name, "a bag tied in the middle," or "two moccasins tied together." mr. obed edson of chautauqua county, who made a thorough search among old records and traditions, which he embodied in a series of articles in _the chautauquan_ in - , gives the following as a possible origin. a party of seneca indians were fishing in the lake and caught a large muskallonge. they laid it in their canoe, and going ashore carried the canoe over the well-known portage to lake erie. to their surprise, they found the big fish still alive, for it leaped from the boat into the water, and escaped. up to that time, it is said, no muskallonge had ever been caught in that lake; but the eggs in that fish propagated their kind, until it became abundant. in the seneca language, _ga-jah_ means fish; and _ga-da-quah_ is "taken out" or as some say, "leaped out." thus chautauqua means "where the fish was taken out," or "the place of the leaping fish." the name was smoothed out by the french explorers, who were the earliest white men in this region, to "tchadakoin," still perpetuated in the stream, chadakoin, connecting the lake with the allegheny river. in an extant letter of george washington, dated , the lake is called, "jadaqua." from the shore of lake erie, where barcelona now stands, to the site of mayville at the head of lake chautauqua ran a well-marked and often-followed indian trail, over which canoes and furs were carried, connecting the great lakes with the river-system of the mid-continent. if among the red-faced warriors of those unknown ages there had arisen a homer to sing the story of his race, a rival to the iliad and the nibelungen might have made these forests famous, for here was the borderland between that remarkable indian confederacy of central new york, the iroquois or five nations,--after the addition of the tuscaroras, the six nations--those fierce assyrians of the western continent who barely failed in founding an empire, and their antagonists the hurons around lake erie. the two tribes confronting each other were the eries of the huron family and the senecas of the iroquois; and theirs was a life and death struggle. victory was with the senecas, and tradition tells that the shores of chautauqua lake were illuminated by the burning alive of a thousand erie prisoners. it is said that the first white man to launch his canoe on lake chautauqua was Ã�tienne brule, a french voyageur. five years before the landing of the pilgrims at plymouth, with a band of friendly hurons he came over the portage from lake erie, and sailed down from mayville to jamestown, thence through the chadakoin to the allegheny and the ohio, showing to the french rulers in canada that by this route lay the path to empire over the continent. fifteen years later, in , la salle, the indomitable explorer and warrior, passed over the portage and down the lake to the river below. fugitives from the french settlements in nova scotia, the acadia of longfellow's _evangeline_, also passed over the same trail and watercourses in their search for a southern home under the french flag. in , captain bienville de celoron led another company of pioneers, soldiers, sailors, indians, and a jesuit priest over the same route, bearing with him inscribed leaden plates to be buried in prominent places, as tokens of french sovereignty over these forests and these waters. being a frenchman, and therefore perhaps inclined to gayety, he might have been happy if he could have foreseen that in a coming age, the most elaborate amusement park on the border of tchadakoin (as he spelled it on his leaden plates) would hand down the name of celoron to generations then unborn! [illustration: steamer in the outlet] in order to make the french domination of this important waterway sure, governor duquesne of canada sent across lake erie an expedition, landing at barcelona, to build a rough wagon-road over the portage to lake chautauqua. traces of this "old french road" may still be seen. those french surveyors and toilers little dreamed that in seven years their work would become an english thoroughfare, and their empire in the new world would be exploited by the descendants of the puritan and huguenot! during the american revolution, the seneca tribe of indians, who had espoused the british side, established villages at bemus and griffiths points on lake chautauqua; and a famous british regiment, "the king's eighth," still on the rolls of the british army, passed down the lake, and encamped for a time beside the outlet within the present limits of jamestown. thus the redskin, the voyageur, and the redcoat in turn dipped their paddles into the placid waters of lake chautauqua. they all passed away, and the american frontiersman took their place; he too was followed by the farmer and the vinedresser. in the last half of the nineteenth century a thriving town, mayville, was growing at the northern end of the lake; the city of jamestown was rising at the end of the outlet; while here and there along the shores were villages and hamlets; roads, such as they were before the automobile compelled their improvement, threaded the forests and fields. a region situated on the direct line of travel between the east and the west, and also having buffalo on the north and pittsburgh on the south, could not long remain secluded. soon the whistle of the locomotive began to wake the echoes of the surrounding hills. in its general direction the lake lies southeast and northwest, and its widest part is about three miles south of mayville. here on its northwestern shore a wide peninsula reaches forth into the water. at the point it is a level plain, covered with stately trees; on the land side it rises in a series of natural terraces marking the altitude and extent of the lake in prehistoric ages; for the present chautauqua lake is only the shrunken hollow of a vaster body in the geologic periods. in the early 'seventies of the last century this peninsula was known as fair point; but in a few years, baptized with a new name chautauqua, it was destined to make the little lake famous throughout the world and to entitle an important chapter in the history of education. chapter ii the founders every idea which becomes a force in the world has its primal origin in a living man or woman. it drops as a seed into one mind, grows up to fruitage, and from one man is disseminated to a multitude. the chautauqua idea became incarnate in two men, john heyl vincent and lewis miller, and by their coördinated plans and labors made itself a mighty power. let us look at the lives of these two men, whose names are ever one in the minds of intelligent chautauquans. john heyl vincent was of huguenot ancestry. the family came from the canton of rochelle, a city which was the protestant capital of france in the period of the reformation. from this vicinity levi vincent (born ), a staunch protestant, emigrated to america in the persecuting days of louis xiv., and settled first at new rochelle, n. y., later removed to new jersey, and died there in . for several generations the family lived in new jersey; but at the time of john heyl vincent's birth on february , , his father, john himrod vincent, the great-great-grandson of the huguenot refugee, was dwelling at tuscaloosa, alabama. dr. vincent used to say that he began his ministry before he was six years old, preaching to the little negroes around his home. the family moved during his early childhood to a farm near lewisburg, pa., on chillisquasque creek, where at the age of fifteen he taught in the public school. when not much above sixteen he was licensed as a local preacher in the methodist episcopal church. he soon became a junior preacher on a four weeks' circuit along the lehigh river, which at that time seems to have been in the bounds of the old baltimore conference. he rode his circuit on horseback, with a pair of saddlebags behind him, and boarded 'round among his parishioners. his saintly mother, of whose character and influence he always spoke in the highest reverence, died at this time, and soon after he went to visit relatives in newark, n. j. there he served as an assistant in the city mission, and at the same time studied in the wesleyan academy on high street. a fellow student, who became and continued through a long life one of his most intimate friends, the rev. george h. whitney, said that young vincent differed from most of his classmates in his eager desire for education, his appetite for book-knowledge leading him to read almost every volume that came his way, and his visions, then supposed to be mere dreams, of plans for the intellectual uplift of humanity. it was his keenest sorrow that he could not realize his intense yearning for a course in college; but perhaps his loss in youth became a nation's gain in his maturer years. in he was received formally as a member "on trial" in the new jersey conference, at that time embracing the entire state. his first charge as pastor was at north belleville, later known as franklin, now nutley, where a handsome new church bears his name and commemorates his early ministry. his second charge was at a small suburb of newark, then called camptown, now the thriving borough of irvington. his ministry from the beginning had been marked by an interest in childhood and youth, and a strong effort to strengthen the work of the sunday school. at camptown he established a definite course of bible teaching for teachers and young people. near the church he staked out a map of palestine, marked its mountains and streams, its localities and battlefields, and led his teachers and older scholars on pilgrimages from dan to beersheba, pausing at each of the sacred places while a member of the class told its story. the lessons of that palestine class, taught on the peripatetic plan in the fifties, are still in print, showing the requirements for each successive grade of pilgrim, resident in palestine, dweller in jerusalem, explorer of other bible lands, and after a final and searching examination, templar, wearing a gold medal. at each of his pastoral charges after this, he conducted his palestine class and constructed his outdoor map of the holy land. may we not find here the germ destined to grow into the palestine park of the chautauqua assembly? after four years in new jersey young vincent was transferred in to illinois, where in succession he had charge of four churches, beginning with joliet, where he met a young lady teacher, miss elizabeth dusenbury, of portville, n. y., who became his wife, and in the after years by her warm heart, clear head, and wise judgment greatly contributed to her husband's success. he was a year at mount morris, the seat of the rock river conference seminary, at which he studied while pastor in the community. for two years, and ' , he was at galena, and found in his congregation a quiet ex-army officer, named ulysses s. grant, who afterward said when introducing him to president lincoln, "dr. vincent was my pastor at galena, ill., and i do not think that i missed one of his sermons while i lived there." long after the civil war days bishop vincent expressed in some autobiographical notes his estimate of general grant. he wrote: "general grant was one of the loveliest and most reverent of men. he had a strong will under that army overcoat of his, but he was the soul of honor and as reverent as he was brave." after two years at rockford--two years having been until the limit for a pastorate in american methodism--in he was appointed to trinity church, chicago, then the most important church of his denomination in that city. chicago opened the door of opportunity to a wider field. the pastor of trinity found in that city a group of young men, enthusiasts in the sunday school, and progressive in their aims. dr. vincent at once became a leader among them and by their aid was able to introduce a uniform lesson in the schools of the city. he established in a _sunday school quarterly_, which in the following years became the _sunday school teacher_, in its editorials and its lesson material setting a new standard for sunday school instruction. his abilities were soon recognized by the authorities in his church, and he was called to new york to become first general agent of the sunday school union, the organization directing methodist episcopal sunday schools throughout the world, and in , secretary and editor. he organized and set in circulation the berean uniform lessons for his denomination, an important link in the chain of events which in made the sunday school lessons uniform throughout america and the world. it is the fashion now to depreciate the uniform lesson plan as unpedagogic and unpsychologic; but its inauguration was the greatest forward step ever taken in the evolution of the sunday school; for it instituted systematic study of the bible, and especially of the old testament; it brought to the service of the teacher the ablest bible scholars on both sides of the atlantic; it enabled the teachers of a school, a town, or a city to unite in the preparation of their lessons. chicago, new york, brooklyn, boston, and many other places soon held study-classes of sunday school teachers, of all grades, of a thousand or more gathered on a week-day to listen to the lectures of great instructors. the plainfield (n. j.) railroad class was not the only group of sunday school workers who spent their hour on the train passing to and from business in studying together their sunday school lesson. [illustration: old business block and post-office] soon after dr. vincent assumed the charge of general sunday school work, having his office in new york, he took up his residence in plainfield, n. j., a suburban city which felt his influence and responded to it for twenty years. having led the way to one summit in his ideals, he saw other mountain-heights beyond, and continually pointed his followers upward. when he succeeded to the editorship of the _sunday school journal_, the teachers' magazine of his church, he found a circulation of about five thousand. with the uniform lesson, and his inspiring editorials, it speedily rose to a hundred thousand, and a few years later to two hundred thousand subscribers, while his lesson leaves and quarterlies went into the millions. with voice--that wonderful, awakening, thrilling voice--and with a pen on fire, he appealed everywhere for a training that should fit sunday school teachers for their great work. he established in many places the normal class, and marked out a course of instruction for its students. this was the step which led directly to the _chautauqua assembly_, which indeed made some such institution a necessity. the normal class proposed a weekly meeting of sunday school teachers or of young people seeking preparation for teaching, a definite course of study, examinations at regular stages, and a diploma to those who met its standards. dr. vincent conceived the plan of bringing together a large body of teacher-students, who should spend at least a fortnight in daily study, morning and afternoon, and thus accomplish more work than in six months of weekly meetings. he aimed also to have lectures on inspiring themes, with a spice of entertainment to impart variety. while this ideal was rising before him and shaping in his mind, he found a kindred spirit, a genius in invention, and a practical, wise business man whose name was destined to stand beside his own in equal honor wherever and whenever chautauqua is named--lewis miller of akron, ohio, the first and until his death in the only president of chautauqua. lewis miller was born on july , , at greentown, ohio. he received in his childhood the limited education in "the three r's--reading, 'riting and 'rithmetic," usual in the country school; and at the age of sixteen was himself a school teacher. in , twenty years old, he began work at the plastering trade, but at the same time was attending school. he became a partner in the manufacturing firm of aultman, ball and co., which soon became aultman, miller and co., and was removed from greentown to canton, ohio. here, about , mr. miller invented and put into successful operation the buckeye mower and reaper, which made him famous, and with other inventions brought to him a fortune. his home was for many years, and until his death, at akron. from his earliest years he was interested in education, and especially in education through the sunday school. he became sunday school superintendent of the first methodist episcopal church in akron, and made it more than most of the sunday schools in that generation a _school_, and not merely a meeting for children. he organized a graded system and required his pupils to pass from grade to grade through the door of an examination in bible knowledge. he was one of the earliest sunday school superintendents to organize a normal class for the equipment and training of young people for teaching in his school. at a certain stage in the promotions every young man and young woman passed one year or two years in the normal grade; for which he arranged the course until one was provided by dr. vincent after he became secretary of sunday school work for the denomination in ; and in the planning of that early normal course, mr. miller took an active part, for he met in john h. vincent one who, like himself, held inspiring ideals for the sunday school, and the two leaders were often in consultation. it was an epoch in the history of the american sunday school when mr. miller built the first sunday school hall in the land according to a plan originated by himself; its architectural features being wrought out under his direction by his fellow-townsman and friend, mr. jacob snyder, an architect of distinction. in this building, then unique but now followed by thousands of churches, there was a domed central assembly hall, with rooms radiating from it in two stories, capable of being open during the general exercises, but closed in the lesson period so that each class could be alone with its teacher while studying. mr. miller was also interested in secular education, was for years president of the board of education in akron, always aiming for higher standards in teaching. he was also a trustee of mount union college in his own state. two men such as vincent and miller, both men of vision, both leaders in education through the sunday school, both aiming to make that institution more efficient, would inevitably come together; and it was fortunate that they were able to work hand in hand, each helping the other. these two men had thoughts of gatherings of sunday school workers, not in conventions, to hear reports and listen to speeches, not to go for one-day or two- or three-day institutes, but to spend weeks together in studying the bible and methods of sunday school work. they talked over their plans, and they found that while they had much in common in their conception each one could supplement the other in some of the details. it had been dr. vincent's purpose to hold his gathering of sunday school workers and bible students within the walls of a large church, in some city centrally located and easily reached by railroad. he suggested to mr. miller that his new sunday school building, with its many classrooms opening into one large assembly hall, would be a suitable place for launching the new enterprise. one cannot help asking the question--what would have been the result if dr. vincent's proposal had been accepted, and the first sunday school assembly had been held in a city and a church? surely the word "chautauqua" would never have appeared as the name of a new and mighty movement in education. moreover, it is almost certain that the movement itself would never have arisen to prominence and to power. it is a noteworthy fact that no chautauqua assembly has ever succeeded, though often attempted, in or near a large city. one of the most striking and drawing features of the chautauqua movement has been its out-of-doors and in-the-woods habitat. the two founders did not dream in those days of decision that the fate of a great educational system was hanging in the balance. an inspiration came to lewis miller to hold the projected series of meetings in a forest, and under the tents of a camp meeting. camp meetings had been held in the united states since , when the first gathering of this name took place in a grove on the banks of the red river in kentucky led by two brothers mcgee, one a presbyterian, the other a methodist. in those years churches were few and far apart through the hamlets and villages of the west and south. the camp meeting brought together great gatherings of people who for a week or more listened to sermons, held almost continuous prayer meetings, and called sinners to repentance. the interest died down somewhat in the middle of the nineteenth century, but following the civil war, a wave of enthusiasm for camp meetings swept over the land. in hundreds of groves, east and west, land was purchased or leased, lots were sold, tents were pitched, and people by the thousand gathered for soul-stirring services. in one of the oldest and most successful of these camp meetings, that on martha's vineyard, tents had largely given place to houses, and a city had arisen in the forest. this example had been followed, and on many camp-meeting grounds houses of a primitive sort straggled around the open circle where the preaching services were held. most of these buildings were mere sheds, destitute of architectural beauty, and innocent even of paint on their walls of rough boards. many of these antique structures may still be seen at chautauqua, survivals of the camp-meeting period, in glaring contrast with the more modern summer homes beside them. at first dr. vincent did not take kindly to the thought of holding his training classes and their accompaniments in any relationship to a camp meeting or even upon a camp ground. he was not in sympathy with the type of religious life manifested and promoted at these gatherings. the fact that they dwelt too deeply in the realm of emotion and excitement, that they stirred the feelings to the neglect of the reasoning and thinking faculties, that the crowd called together on a camp-meeting ground would not represent the sober, sane, thoughtful element of church life--all these repelled dr. vincent from the camp meeting. mr. miller had recently become one of the trustees of a camp meeting held at fair point on lake chautauqua, and proposed that dr. vincent should visit the place with him. somewhat unwillingly, yet with an open mind, vincent rode with miller by train to lakewood near the foot of the lake, and then in a small steamer sailed to fair point. a small boy was with them, sitting in the prow of the boat, and as it touched the wharf he was the first of its passengers to leap on the land--and in after years, george edgar vincent, ll.d., was wont to claim that he, at the mature age of nine years, was the original discoverer of chautauqua! [illustration: old amphitheater] [illustration: old auditorium in miller park] it was in the summer of , soon after the fourth session of the erie conference camp meeting of the methodist episcopal church, that dr. vincent came, saw, and was conquered. his normal class and its subsidiary lectures and entertainments should be held under the beeches, oaks, and maples shading the terraced slopes rising up from lake chautauqua. a lady who had attended the camp meeting in , its second session upon the grounds at fair point, afterward wrote her first impressions of the place. she said that the superintendent of the grounds, mr. pratt (from whom an avenue at chautauqua received its name some years afterward), told her that until may, , "the sound of an axe had not been heard in those woods." this lady (mrs. kate p. bruch) wrote: many of the trees were immense in size, and in all directions, from the small space occupied by those who were tenting there, we could walk through seas of nodding ferns; while everywhere through the forest was a profusion of wild flowers, creeping vines, murmuring pine, beautiful mosses and lichens. the lake itself delighted us with its lovely shores; where either highly cultivated lands dotted with farmhouses, or stretches of pine forest, met on all sides the cool, clear water that sparkled or danced in the sunlight, or gave subdued but beautiful reflection of the moonlight. we were especially charmed with the narrow, tortuous outlet of the lake--then so closely resembling the streams of tropical climes. with the trees pressing closely to the water's edge, covered with rich foliage, tangled vines clinging and swaying from their branches; and luxuriant undergrowth, through which the bright cardinal flowers were shining, it was not difficult to fancy one's self far from our northern clime, sailing over water that never felt the cold clasp of frost and snow. the steamers winding their way through the romantic outlet were soon to be laden with new throngs looking for the first time upon forest, farms, and lake. those ivy-covered and moss-grown terraces of fair point were soon to be trodden by the feet of multitudes; and that camp-meeting stand from which fervent appeals to repentance had sounded forth, to meet responses of raptured shouts from saints, and cries for mercy from seekers, was soon to become the arena for religious thought and aspiration of types contrasted with those of the camp meeting of former years. chapter iii some primal principles we have looked at the spot chosen for this new movement, and we have become somewhat acquainted with its two leaders. let us now look at its foundations, and note the principles upon which it was based. we shall at once perceive that the original plans of the fair point assembly were very narrow in comparison with those of chautauqua to-day. yet those aims were of such a nature, like a gothic church, as would readily lend themselves to enlargement on many sides, and only add to the unique beauty of the structure. in this chapter we are not undertaking to set forth the chautauqua idea, as it is now realized--for everybody, everywhere, and in every department of knowledge, inspired by a christian faith. whatever may have been in the mind of either founder, this wide-reaching aim was not in those early days made known. both miller and vincent were interested in education, and each of them felt his own lack of college training, but during the first three or four years of chautauqua's history all its aims were in the line of religious education through the sunday school. we are not to look for the traits of its later development, in those primal days. ours is the story of an evolution, and not a philosophical treatise. the first assembly on chautauqua lake was held under the sanction and direction of the governing sunday school board of the methodist episcopal church, by resolution of the board in new york at its meeting in october, , in response to a request from the executive committee of the chautauqua lake camp ground association, and upon the recommendation of dr. vincent, whose official title was corresponding secretary of the sunday school union of the methodist episcopal church. the normal committee of the union was charged with the oversight of the projected meetings; lewis miller was appointed president, and john h. vincent, superintendent of instruction. although held upon a camp ground and inheriting some of the camp-meeting opportunities, the gathering was planned to be unlike a camp meeting in its essential features, and to reach a constituency outside that of the camp ground. its name was a new one, "the assembly," and its sphere was announced to be that of the sunday school. there was to be a definite and carefully prepared program of a distinctly educational cast, with no opening for spontaneous, go-as-you-please meetings to be started at any moment. this was arranged to keep a quietus on both the religious enthusiast and the wandering sunday school orator who expected to make a speech on every occasion. on my first visit to fair point--which was not in ' but in ' --i found a prominent sunday school talker from my own state, grip-sack in hand, leaving the ground. he explained, "this is no place for me. they have a cut-and-dried program, and a fellow can't get a word in anywhere. i'm going home. give me the convention where a man can speak if he wants to." in most of the camp meetings, but not in all, sunday was the great day, a picnic on a vast scale, bringing hundreds of stages, carryalls, and wagons from all quarters, special excursion trains loaded with visitors, fleets of boats on the lake or river, if the ground could be reached by water route. no doubt some good was wrought. under the spell of a stirring preacher some were turned from sin to righteousness. but much harm was also done, in the emptying of churches for miles around, the bringing together of a horde of people intent on pleasure, and utter confusion taking the place of a sabbath-quiet which should reign on a ground consecrated to worship. against this desecration of the holy day, miller and vincent set themselves firmly. as a condition of accepting the invitation of the camp meeting association to hold the proposed assembly at fair point, the gates were to be absolutely closed against all visitors on sunday; and notice was posted that no boats would be allowed to land on that day at the fair point pier. in those early days everybody came to fair point by boat. there was indeed a back-door entrance on land for teams and foot passengers; but few entered through it. in these modern days of electricity, now that the lake is girdled with trolley lines, and a hundred automobiles stand parked outside the gates, the back door has become the front door, and the steamboats are comparatively forsaken. in addition to the name assembly, the exact order of exercises, and the closed ground on sunday, there was another startling departure from camp-meeting usages--a gate fee. the overhead expenses of a camp meeting were comparatively light. those were not the days when famous evangelists like sam jones and popular preachers such as dewitt talmage received two hundred dollars for a sunday sermon. board and keep were the rewards of the ministers, and the "keep" was a bunk in the preachers' tent. the needed funds were raised by collections, which though nominally "voluntary" were often obtained under high-pressure methods. but the assembly, with well-known lecturers, teachers of recognized ability, and the necessary nation-wide advertising to awaken interest in a new movement would of necessity be expensive. how should the requisite dollars by the thousand be raised? the two heads of the assembly resolved to dispense with the collections, and have a gate fee for all comers. fortunately the fair point grounds readily lent themselves to this plan, for they were already surrounded on three sides by a high picket-fence, and only the small boys knew where the pickets were loose, and they didn't tell. [illustration: the old guest house. "the ark"] [illustration: old children's temple] the sunday closing and the entrance charge raised a storm of indignation all around the lake. the steamboat owners--in those days there were no steamer corporations; each boat big or little, was owned by its captain--the steamboat owners saw plainly that sunday would be a "lost day" to them if the gates were closed; and the thousands of visitors to the camp meeting who had squeezed out a dime, or even a penny, when the basket went around, bitterly complained outside the gates at a quarter for daily admission, half of what they had cheerfully handed over when the annual circus came to town. during the first assembly in , the gatekeepers needed all their patience and politeness to restrain some irate visitors from coming to blows over the infringement of their right to free entrance upon the fair point camp ground. there were holders of leases upon lots who expected free entrance for themselves and their families--and "family" was stretched to include visitors. then there were the preachers who could not comprehend why _they_ should buy a ticket for entrance to the holy ground! the financial and restrictive regulations were left largely to lewis miller, who possessed the _suaviter in modo_ so graciously that many failed to realize underneath it the _fortiter in re_. behind that smiling countenance of the president of chautauqua was an uncommonly stiff backbone. rules once fixed were kept in the teeth of opposition from both sinners and saints. let me anticipate some part of our story by saying that at the present time there are from six to eight hundred all-the-year residents upon chautauqua grounds. before the assembly opens on july st, every family must obtain season tickets to the public exercises for all except the very youngest members and bedridden invalids. a lease upon chautauqua property does not entitle the holder to admission to the grounds. if he owns an automobile, it must be parked outside, and cannot be brought through the gates without the payment of an entrance fee, and an officer riding beside the chauffeur to see that in chautauqua's narrow streets and thronged walks all care is taken against accident. the only exception to this rule is in favor of physicians who are visiting patients within the enclosure. the catholicity of the plans for the first assembly must not be forgotten. both its founders were members of the methodist episcopal church and loyal to its institutions. but they were also believers in and members of the holy catholic church, the true church of christ on earth, wherein every christian body has a part. they had no thought to ignore the various denominations, but aimed to make every follower of christ at home. upon the program appeared the names of men eminent in all the churches; and it was a felicitous thought to hold each week on one evening the prayer meetings of the several churches, each by itself, also to plan on one afternoon in different places on the ground, for denominational conferences where the members of each church could freely discuss their own problems and provide for their own interests. this custom established at the first assembly has become one of the traditions of chautauqua. every wednesday evening, from seven to eight, is assigned for denominational prayer meetings, and on the second wednesday afternoon in august, two hours are set apart for the denominational conferences. the author of this volume knows something about one of those meetings; for year after year it has brought him to his wit's end, to provide a program that will not be a replica of the last one, and then sometimes, to persuade the conferences to confer. but if a list were made of the noble names that have taken part in these gatherings, it would show that the interdenominational plan of the founders has been justified by the results. it is a great fact that for nearly fifty years the loyal members of almost every church in the land have come together at chautauqua, all in absolute freedom to speak their minds, yet with never the least friction or controversy. and this relation was not one of an armed neutrality between bodies in danger of breaking out into open war. it did not prevent a good-natured raillery on the chautauqua platform between speakers of different denominations. if anyone had a joke at the expense of the baptists or the methodists or the presbyterians, he never hesitated to tell it before five thousand people, even with the immediate prospect of being demolished by a retort from the other side. a conversation that occurred at least ten years after the session of ' belongs here logically, if not chronologically. a tall, long-coated minister whose accent showed his nativity in the southern mountain-region said to me, "i wish to inquire, sir, what is the doctrinal platform of this assembly." "there is none, so far as i know," i answered. "you certainly do not mean, sir," he responded, "that there is not an understanding as to the doctrines allowed to be taught on this platform. is there no statement in print of the views that must or must not be expressed by the different speakers?" "i never heard of any," i said, "and if there was such a statement i think that i should know about it." "what, sir, is there to prevent any speaker from attacking the doctrines of some other church, or even from speaking against the fundamental doctrines of christianity?" "nothing in the world," i said, "except that nobody at chautauqua ever wishes to attack any other christian body. if anyone did such a thing, i don't believe that it would be thought necessary to disown or even to answer him. but i am quite certain that it would be his last appearance on the chautauqua platform." in this chapter i have sought to point out the foundation stones of chautauqua, as they were laid nearly half a century ago. others were placed later in the successive years; but these were the original principles, and these have been maintained for more than a generation. let us fix them in memory by a restatement and an enumeration. first, chautauqua, now an institution for general and popular education, began in the department of religion as taught in the sunday school. second, it was an out-of-doors school, held in the forest, blazing the way and setting the pace of summer schools in the open air throughout the nation and the world. third, although held upon a camp-meeting ground it was widely different in aim and method, spirit and clientele from the old-fashioned camp meeting. fourth, it maintained the sanctity of the sabbath, closed its gates, and frowned upon every attempt to secularize or commercialize the holy day, or to make it a day of pleasure. fifth, the enterprise was supported, not by collections at its services, or by contributions from patrons, but by a fee upon entrance from every comer. sixth, it was to represent not one branch of the church, but to bring together all the churches in acquaintance and friendship, to promote, not church union, but church unity. and seventh, let it be added that it was to be in no sense a money-making institution. there were trustees but no stockholders, and no dividends. if any funds remained after paying the necessary expenses, they were to be used for improvement of the grounds or the enlargement of the program. upon these foundations chautauqua has stood and has grown to greatness. chapter iv the beginnings but let us come to the opening session of the assembly, destined to greater fortune and fame than even its founders at that time dreamed. it was named "the sunday school teachers' assembly," for the wider field of general education then lay only in the depths of one founder's mind. for the sake of history, let us name the officers of this first assembly. they were as follows: chairman--lewis miller, esq., of akron, ohio. department of instruction--rev. john h. vincent, d.d., of new york. department of entertainment--rev. r. w. scott, mayville, n. y. department of supplies--j. e. wesener, esq., akron, ohio. department of order--rev. r. m. warren, fredonia, n. y. department of recreation--rev. w. w. wythe, m.d., meadville, pa. sanitary department--j. c. stubbs, m.d., corry, pa. the property of the camp meeting association, leased for the season to the assembly, embraced less than one fourth of the present dimensions of chautauqua, even without the golf course and other property outside the gates. east and west it extended as it does now from the point and the pier to the public highway. but on the north where kellogg memorial hall now stands was the boundary indicated by the present scott avenue, though at that time unmarked. the site of normal hall and all north of it were outside the fence. and on the south its boundary was the winding way of palestine avenue. the ravine now covered by the amphitheater was within the bounds, but the site of the hotel athenæum was without the limit. he who rambles around chautauqua in our day sees a number of large, well-kept hotels, and many inns and "cottages" inviting the visitor to comfortable rooms and bountiful tables. but in those early days there was not one hotel or boarding-house at fair point. tents could be rented, and a cottager might open a room for a guest, but it was forbidden to supply table board for pay. everybody, except such as did their own cooking, ate their meals at the dining-hall, which was a long tabernacle of rough unpainted boards, with a leaky roof, and backless benches where the feeders sat around tables covered with oilcloth. and as for the meals--well, if there was high thinking at chautauqua there was certainly plain living. sometimes it rained, and d.d.'s, ll.d.'s, professors, and plain people held up umbrellas with one hand and tried to cut tough steaks with the other. but nobody complained at the fare, for the feast of reason and flow of soul made everybody forget burnt potatoes and hard bread. [illustration: lewis miller, cottage and tent] [illustration: bishop vincent's tent-cottage] what is now miller park, the level ground and lovely grove at the foot of the hill, was then the auditorium, where stood a platform and desk sheltered from sun on some days and rain on others. before it was an array of seats, lacking backs, instead of which the audience used their own backbones. perhaps two thousand people could find sitting-room under the open sky, shaded by the noble trees. a sudden shower would shoot up a thousand umbrellas. one speaker said that happening to look up from his manuscript he perceived that an acre of toadstools had sprouted in a minute. at the lower end of this park stood the tent wherein dr. vincent dwelt during many seasons; at the upper end was the new cottage of the miller family with a tent frame beside it for guests. at this auditorium all the great lectures were given for the first four years of chautauqua history, except when continued rain forbade. then an adjournment, sometimes hasty, was made to a large tent up the hill, known as the tabernacle. one day, during the second season of the assembly in , professor william f. sherwin, singer, chorus leader, bible teacher, and wit of the first water, was conducting a meeting in the auditorium. the weather had been uncertain, an "open and shut day," and people hardly knew whether to meet for sherwin's service in the grove or in the tent on the hill. suddenly a tall form, well known at chautauqua, came tearing down the hill and up the steps of the platform, breathless, wild-eyed, with mop of hair flying loose, bursting into the professor's address with the words, "professor sherwin, i come as a committee of fifty to invite you to bring your meeting up to the tabernacle, safe from the weather, where a large crowd is gathered!" "well," responded sherwin, "you may be a committee of fifty, but you look like sixty!" and from that day ever after at chautauqua a highly respected gentleman from washington, d.c., was universally known as "the man who looks like sixty." when we speak of sherwin, inevitably we think of frank beard, the cartoonist, whose jokes were as original as his pictures. he would draw in presence of the audience a striking picture, seemingly serious, and then in a few quick strokes transform it into something absurdly funny. for instance, his "moses in the bulrushes" was a beautiful baby surrounded by waving reeds. a sudden twist of the crayon, and lo, a wild bull was charging at the basket and its baby. this was "the bull rushes." beard was as gifted with tongue as with pen, and in the comradeship of the chautauqua platform he and sherwin were continually hurling jokes at each other. oftentimes the retort was so pat that one couldn't help an inward question whether the two jesters had not arranged it in advance. frank beard used to hold a question drawer occasionally. there was a show of collecting questions from the audience, but those to be answered had been prepared by mr. beard and his equally witty wife, and written on paper easily recognized. one by one, these were taken out, read with great dignity, and answered in a manner that kept the crowd in a roar. on one occasion professor sherwin was presiding at mr. beard's question drawer--for it was the rule that at every meeting there must be a chairman as well as the speaker. the question was drawn out, "will mr. beard please explain the difference between a natural consequence and a miracle?" mr. beard _did_ explain thus: "this difficult question can be answered by a very simple illustration. there is professor sherwin. if professor sherwin says to me, 'mr. beard, lend me five dollars,' and i should let him have it, that would be a _natural consequence_. if professor sherwin should ever pay it back, _that_ would be a miracle!" it is needless to say that the opportunity soon arrived for mr. sherwin to repay mr. beard for full value of debt with abundant interest. mention has been made that at each address or public platform meeting a chairman must be in charge. in the old camp-meeting days all the ministers had been wont to sit on the platform behind the preacher; and some of them could not reconcile themselves to dr. vincent's rule that _only_ the chairman and the speaker of the hour should occupy "the preachers' stand." notwithstanding repeated announcements, some clergymen continued to invade the platform. the head of the department of order once pointed to a well-known minister and said to the writer, "four times i have told that man--and a good man he is--that he must not take a seat on the platform." whoever casts his eyes on the platform of the amphitheater may notice that before every public service, the janitor places just the number of chairs needed, and no more. this is one of the chautauqua traditions, begun under the vincent régime. before we come to the more serious side of our story let us notice another instance of the contrast between the camp meeting and chautauqua. a widely known methodist came, bringing with him a box of revival song-books, compiled by himself. he was a leader of a "praying band," and accustomed to hold meetings where the enthusiasm was pumped up to a high pitch. one sunday at a certain hour he noticed that the auditorium in the grove was unoccupied; and gathering a group of friends with warm hearts and strong voices, he mounted the platform and in stentorian tones began a song from his own book. the sound brought people from all the tents and cottages around, and soon his meeting was in full blast, with increasing numbers responding to his ardent appeals. word came to dr. vincent who speedily marched into the arena. he walked upon the platform, held up his hand in a gesture compelling silence, and calling upon the self-appointed leader by name, said: "this meeting is not on the program, nor appointed by the authorities, and it cannot be held." "what?" spoke up the praying-band commander. "do you mean to say that we can't have a service of song and prayer on these grounds?" "yes," replied dr. vincent, "i do mean it. no meeting of any kind can be held without the order of the authorities. you should have come to me for permission to hold this service." the man was highly offended, gathered up his books, and left the grounds on the next day. he would have departed at once, but it was sunday, and the gates were closed. let it be said, however, that six months later, when he had thought it over, he wrote to dr. vincent an ample apology for his conduct and said that he had not realized the difference between a camp meeting and a sunday school assembly. he ended by an urgent request that dr. vincent should come to the camp ground at round lake, of which he was president, should organize and conduct an assembly to be an exact copy of chautauqua in its program and speakers, with all the resources of round lake at his command. his invitation was accepted. in due time, with this man's loyal support, dr. vincent organized and set in motion the round lake assembly, upon the chautauqua pattern, which continues to this day, true to the ideals of the founder. one unique institution on the fair point of those early days must not be omitted--the park of palestine. following the suggestion of dr. vincent's church lawn model of the holy land, dr. wythe of meadville, an adept in other trades than physic and preaching, constructed just above the pier on the lake shore a park one hundred and twenty feet long, and seventy-five feet wide, shaped to represent in a general way the contour of the holy land. it was necessary to make the elevations six times greater than longitudinal measurements; and if one mountain is made six times as large as it should be, some other hills less prominent in the landscape or less important in the record must be omitted. the lake was taken to represent the mediterranean sea, and on the sea-coast plain were located the cities of the philistines, north of them joppa and cæsarea, and far beyond them on the shore, tyre and sidon. the mountain region showed the famous places of israelite history from beersheba to dan, with the sacred mountains olivet and zion, ebal and gerizim having jacob's well beside them, gilboa with its memories of gideon's victory and king saul's defeat, the mountain on whose crown our lord preached his sermon, and overtopping all, hermon, where he was transfigured. from two springs flowed little rills to represent the sources of the river jordan which wound its way down the valley, through the two lakes, merom and the sea of galilee, ending its course in the dead sea. there were jericho and the brook jabbok, the clustered towns around the galilean sea, and at the foot of mount hermon, cæsarea-philippi. across the jordan rose the eastern tableland, with its mountains and valleys and brooks and cities even as far as damascus. as the assembly was an experiment, and might be transferred later to other parts of the country, the materials for this palestine park were somewhat temporary. the mountains were made of stumps, fragments of timber, filled in with sawdust from a mayville mill, and covered with grassy sods. but the park constructed from makeshift materials proved one of the most attractive features of the encampment. groups of bible students might be seen walking over it, notebooks in their hands, studying the sacred places. a few would even pluck and preserve a spear of grass, carefully enshrining it in an envelope duly marked. a report went abroad, indeed, that soil from the holy land itself had been spread upon the park, constituting it a sort of campo santo, but this claim was never endorsed by either its architect or its originator. the park of palestine still stands, having been rebuilt several times, enlarged to a length of feet, and now, as i write, with another restoration promised. one fact in this sacred geography must needs be stated, in the interests of exact truth. in order to make use of the lake shore, north had to be in the south, and east in the west. chautauqua has always been under a despotic though paternal government, and its visitors easily accommodate themselves to its decrees. but the sun persists in its independence, rises over chautauqua's mediterranean sea where it should set, and continues its sunset over the mountains of gilead, where it should rise. dr. vincent and lewis miller could bring to pass some remarkable, even seemingly impossible, achievements, but they were not able to outdo joshua, and not only make the sun stand still, but set it moving in a direction opposite to its natural course. in one of his inimitable speeches, frank beard said that palestine park had been made the model for all the beds on fair point. he slept, as he asserted, on palestine, with his head on mount hermon, his body sometimes in the jordan valley, at other times on the mountains of ephraim; and one night when it rained, he found his feet in the dead sea. in the early days of chautauqua a tree was standing near palestine park, which invited the attention of every child, and many grown folks. it was called "the spouting tree." dr. wythe found a tree with one branch bent over near the ground and hollow. he placed a water-pipe in the branch and sent a current of fresh water through it, so that the tree seemed to be pouring forth water. at all times a troop of children might be seen around it. at least one little girl made her father walk down every day to the wonder, to the neglect of other walks on the assembly ground. afterward at home from an extended tour, they asked her what was the most wonderful thing that she had seen in her journey. they expected her to say, "niagara falls," but without hesitation she answered, "the tree that spouted water at chautauqua." the standards of greatness in the eyes of childhood differ from those of the grown-up folks. the true chautauqua, aided as it was by the features of mirth and entertainment and repartee, was in the daily program followed diligently by the assembled thousands. here is in part the schedule, taken from the printed report. it was opened on tuesday evening, august , , in the out-of-doors auditorium, now miller park, beginning with a brief responsive service of scripture and song, prepared by dr. vincent. chautauqua clings to ancient customs; and that same service, word for word, has been rendered every year on the first tuesday evening in august, at what is known as "old first night." [illustration: old steamer "jamestown"] [illustration: oriental house; museum] bishop vincent afterward wrote of that memorable first meeting: the stars were out, and looked down through trembling leaves upon a goodly well-wrapped company, who sat in the grove, filled with wonder and hope. no electric light brought platform and people face to face that night. the old-fashioned pine fires on rude four-legged stands covered with earth, burned with unsteady, flickering flame, now and then breaking into brilliancy by the contact of a resinous stick of the rustic fireman, who knew how to snuff candles and how to turn light on the crowd of campers-out. the white tents around the enclosure were very beautiful in that evening light. at this formal opening on august , , brief addresses were given by dr. vincent and by a baptist, a presbyterian, a methodist, and a congregational pastor. this opening showed the broad brotherhood which was to mark the history of chautauqua. on the next day, wednesday, began what might be called the school sessions of the assembly. the fourteen days were divided into three terms. every morning at o'clock a brief service of prayer and bible reading began the day in the auditorium, now miller park. at : during the first term, august th- th, a conference was held of normal class and institute conductors, at which reports were rendered of work done, courses of study, and methods of work, and results obtained. in those days when training classes for sunday school teachers were almost unknown, this series of conferences, attended by hundreds of workers, proved of infinite value, and set in motion classes in many places. at o'clock, section meetings were held for superintendents and pastors, and teachers of the different grades, from the primary class to the adult bible class. the normal class held its sessions during the second term, from august th- th, and the third term, august th- th. four classes were held simultaneously in different tents, with teachers changed each day. at these classes most of the lessons were on the bible--its evidences, books and authors, geography, history, and interpretation. the topics pertaining to the teacher and the class were taken up in the different conferences. the normal class was held to be the core and life of the assembly, and everybody was urged to attend its sessions. all whose names began with letters from a to g were to attend regularly tent a. those with initials from h to m were to go to tent b, and so on through the alphabet, to the four normal tents. but the students soon found their favorite teachers, would watch for them, and follow them into their different tents. there was another infraction of the program. the blackboard was a new feature in sunday school work, and not enough blackboards of good quality had been secured. some were too small, some were not black enough, and one was painted with the lines for music. it is reported that some of the teachers bribed the janitor to provide for their use the good boards. there is even the tale that a sunday school leader was seen stealing a blackboard and replacing it in another's tent by an inferior one. we humbly trust that this report was false. that the normal class, the conferences, and the lectures on sunday school work were taken seriously is shown by the report of the written examination, held on monday, august th, the day before the assembly closed. more than two hundred people sat down in the tabernacle on the hill, each furnished with fifty questions on the bible and the sunday school. twenty or more dropped out, but at the end of the nearly five hours' wrestling one hundred and eighty-four papers were handed in. three of these were marked absolutely perfect, those of the rev. c. p. hard, on his way to india as a missionary, mr. caleb sadler of iowa, and the rev. samuel mcgerald of new york. ninety-two were excellent, fifty more were passed, making one hundred and forty-five accepted members of the normal alumni association; eighteen had their papers returned to be rewritten after further study, and the lowest fourteen were consigned to the wastebasket. the _western christian advocate_ gave a picture of the first normal examination at chautauqua, which we republish. the tent is a very large one, and was plentifully supplied with benches, chairs, camp-stools, etc. the spectacle was very imposing. the ladies seemed a little in the majority. there were two girls under fifteen, and one boy in his fourteenth year. each was provided with paper, and each wore a more or less silent and thoughtful air. there was no shuffling, no listlessness, no whispering. the conductor, with a big stump for his table, occupied a somewhat central position, ready to respond to the call of any uplifted hand. we stood just back of dr. vincent, with the scene in full view. to our right, but a little on the outside of the tent, were bishop simpson and dr. thomas m. eddy, who remained only a few minutes, as the latter was compelled to take the ten o'clock train for new york. on the same side, and a little nearer to us, were groups of visitors, mostly from the country adjacent, who gazed in rapt astonishment at the sight before them, not daring to inquire the meaning of all this mute array of paper and pencil. a little to our left was a lawyer of large experience and almost national fame, who had removed his hat, collar, coat and cuffs; just by his side was an ex-state senator; and a little further on was a boy from iowa. he had improvised for his table a small round log, and had gathered together for the better resting of his knees, a good-sized pile of dry beech-leaves. this lad, we learned, had been studying the normal course during the last year; and we further discovered that he succeeded in answering accurately all but ten or twelve of the fifty questions, one of the to him insoluble and incomprehensible being, "what is the relation of the church to the sunday school?" nearly in front of the conductor were two veteran spectacled sisters, who at no time whispered to each other, but kept up a strong thinking and a frequent use of the pencil. near these sat a mother and daughter from evanston, illinois, silent and confident. on the outer row of seats we observed three doctors of divinity, a theological student, the president of an ohio college, a gentleman connected with the internal revenue, and a lady principal of a young ladies' seminary, all with their thinking-caps admirably adjusted. at the end of an hour and forty minutes a new york brother, who had been especially active in sectional work, held up his hand in token of success, and his paper was passed up to dr. vincent. shortly afterward another made a similar signal; but nearly all occupied over three hours in the work. over one half attained to seventy-five or eighty per cent. let it be remembered that no matter how long the student was compelled to remain, even long past the dinner hour, he was not permitted to take a recess for his midday meal. he must stay to the end, or give up his examination. the report of the assembly shows twenty-two lectures on sunday school work, theory, and practice; sectional meetings--nine primary, six intermediate, one senior, five of pastors and superintendents, eight normal class and institute conductors' conferences; six normal classes in each of the four tents--twenty-four in all; three teachers' meetings for preparation of the sunday school lesson; four bible readings; three praise services; two children's meetings; and six sermons. all the leading protestant churches were represented; and twenty-five states in the union, besides ontario, montreal, nova scotia, ireland, scotland, and india. among the preachers we find the names of dr. h. clay trumbull, editor of the _sunday school times_, john b. gough, bishops simpson and janes, dr. james m. buckley, dr. charles f. deems, dr. t. dewitt talmage, and four ministers who later became bishops in the methodist episcopal church:--drs. h. w. warren, j. f. hurst, e. o. haven, and c. h. fowler. the two sundays, august th and th, were golden days in the calendar. an atmosphere of quiet and peace reigned throughout the grounds. no steamboats made the air discordant around the pier; the gates were closed and the steamers sailed by to more welcome stations; no excursion trains brought curious and noisy throngs of sightseers. tents and cottages lay open while their dwellers worshiped under the trees of the auditorium, for no one was required to watch against thieves in the crowd. the world was shut out, and a voice seemed to be saying, "come ye yourselves apart and rest awhile." the day began with a sunday school graded to embrace both young and old. the riches of officers and teachers formed an embarrassment. for once, nay twice (for there were two sundays), a superintendent had at call more instructors than he could supply with classes. on each sunday the attendance at the school was fifteen hundred. at the sunset hour each evening an "eventide conference" was held on the lake side. the dying day, the peaceful surroundings, the calm sheet of water, the mild air, combined to impart a tone of thoughtful, uplifting meditation. i have heard old chautauquans speak many times of the inspiring spiritual atmosphere breathed in the very air of the first chautauqua. never before had been brought together for conference and for study so many leaders in the sunday school army, representing so large a variety of branches in the church catholic. and it was not for a day or two days as in conventions and institutes, but for a solid fortnight of steady work. the chautauqua of to-day is a widely reaching educational system, embracing almost every department of knowledge. but it must not be forgotten that all this wide realm has grown out of a school to awaken, instruct, and inspire sunday school workers. in their conception, however, the two famous founders realized that all truth, even that looked upon as secular, is subsidiary, even necessary for successful teaching of the word of god. hence with the courses of study and conferences upon practical details, we find on the program, some literature and science, with the spice of entertainment and amusement. the conception of dr. vincent was not to locate the assembly in one place, but from time to time to hold similar meetings on many camp grounds, wherever the opportunity arose. there is a suspicion that lewis miller held his own secret purpose to make it so successful on chautauqua lake as to insure its permanent location at fair point. that was a wise plan, for with settlement in one place, buildings could be erected, and features like palestine park could be increased and improved. whether it was by a suggestion or a common impulse, on the last day of the assembly a meeting was held and a unanimous appeal was presented to make fair point the home of the assembly. the trustees of the camp meeting shared in the sentiment and offered to receive new members representing the assembly constituency. as a result, the officiary was reorganized, no longer as a camp meeting but as an assembly board. for two years fair point was continued as the name of the post office, although the title "chautauqua sunday school assembly" was adopted. but soon fair point became "chautauqua" on the list of the post office department, and the old name lingers only in the memory of old chautauquans. before we leave that pioneer chautauqua, we must recall some of its aspects, which might be forgotten in these later days, at once amusing, perplexing, and sometimes trying. more steamers, great and small, were plying chautauqua's waters than at the present under the steamboat corporation system. old chautauquans will remember that ancient three-decker, _the jamestown_, with its pair of stern wheels, labeled respectively "vincent" and "miller." each steamer was captained by its owner; and there was often a congestion of boats at the pier, especially after the arrival of an excursion train. those were not the days of standard time, eastern and central, with watches set an hour fast or slow at certain well-known points. each boat followed its own standard of time, which might be new york time, buffalo or pittsburgh time, forty minutes slower, or even columbus or cincinnati time, slower still. railroads crossing ohio were required to run on columbus time. when you were selecting a steamer from the thirty placards on the bulletin board at the fair point post office, in order to meet an erie train at lakewood, unless you noticed the time-standard, you might find at the pier that your steamer had gone forty minutes before, or on arriving at lakewood learn that your boat was running on cincinnati time, and you were three quarters of an hour late for the train, for even on the erie of those days, trains were not _always_ an hour behind time. nor was this variety of "time, times, and half-time" all the drawbacks. when news came that an excursion train was due from buffalo, every steamboat on the lake would ignore its time-table and the needs of the travelers; and all would be bunched at the mayville dock and around it to catch the passengers. or it might be a similar but more tangled crowd of boats in the outlet at jamestown to meet a special train from pittsburgh. haven't i seen a bishop on the fair point pier, who _must_ get the train at lakewood to meet his conference in colorado, scanning the landscape with not a boat in sight, all piled up three miles away? [illustration: palestine park, looking north dead sea in foreground: mount hermon in distance] [illustration: tent-life in j. l. hurlbut, j. a. worden, frank beard, j. l. hughes] nor were the arrangements for freight and baggage in those early years any more systematic than those for transportation. although chautauqua lake is on the direct line of travel east and west, between new york and chicago, and north and south between buffalo and pittsburgh, fair point, the seat of the assembly, was not a railroad station. luggage could be checked only to jamestown, lakewood, or mayville, and thence must be sent by boat. its destination might be indicated by a tag or a chalk mark, or it might remain unmarked. imagine a steamer deck piled high with trunks, valises, bundles of blankets, furniture, tent equipment, and things miscellaneous, stopping at a dozen points along the lake to have its cargo assorted and put ashore--is it strange that some baggage was left at the wrong place, and its owner wandered around looking vainly for his property? one man remarked that the only way to be sure of your trunk was to sit on it; but what if your trunk was on the top or at the bottom of a pile ten feet high? considering all the difficulties and discomforts of those early days--travel, baggage, no hotels nor boarding houses, a crowded dining hall with a hungry procession outside perhaps in the rain waiting for seats at the tables, the food itself none of the best--it is surprising that some thousands of people not only found the assembly, but stayed to its conclusion, were happy in it, lived in an enchanted land for a fortnight, and resolved to return the very next year! more than this, they carried its enthusiasm and its ideals home with them and in hundreds of places far apart, the sunday schools began to assume a new and higher life. some time after this, but still early in chautauqua's history, a prominent sunday school man expressed to the writer his opinion that "people who came home from chautauqua became either a mighty help or a mighty nuisance. they brought with them more new ideas than could be put into operation in ten years; and if they couldn't get them, one and all, adopted at once they kicked and growled incessantly." before we leave the assembly of , we must not forget to name one of its most powerful and far-reaching results--the woman's christian temperance union. this assembly was held soon after the great crusade of in ohio, when multitudes of women, holding prayer meetings on the sidewalk in front of liquor saloons literally prayed thousands of them out of existence. while the fire of the crusade was still burning, a number of women held meetings at chautauqua during the assembly, and took counsel together concerning the best measures to promote the temperance reform. they united in a call signed by mrs. mattie mcclellan brown, mrs. jennie fowler willing, mrs. emily huntington miller, and others, for a convention of women to be held in cleveland, ohio, november , . at this convention, sixteen states were represented, and the national woman's christian temperance union was organized, an institution which did more than any other to form public sentiment, to make state after state "dry," and finally to establish nation-wide constitutional prohibition. it may not be generally known that this mighty movement began at the first chautauqua assembly. chapter v the early development chautauqua was a lusty infant when it entered upon life in , and it began with a penetrating voice, heard afar. like all normal babies (normal seems to be the right word just here) it began to grow, and its progress in the forty-seven years of its life thus far ( ) has been the growth of a giant. territorially, on chautauqua lake, it has enlarged at successive stages from twenty acres to more than three hundred and thirty acres, impelled partly by a demand of its increasing family for house-room, educational facilities, and playgrounds, partly from the necessity of controlling its surroundings to prevent occupation by undesirable neighbors. there has been another vast expansion in the establishment of chautauquas elsewhere, until the continent is now dotted with them. a competent authority informs the writer that within twelve months ten thousand assemblies bearing the generic name chautauqua have been held in the united states and the dominion of canada. there has been a third growth in the intellectual sweep of its plans. we have seen how it began as a system of training for teachers in the sunday school. we shall trace its advancement into the wider field of general and universal education, a school in every department and for everybody everywhere. to at least one pilgrim the assembly of was monumental, for it marked an epoch in his life. that was the writer of this volume, who in that year made his first visit to chautauqua. (the general reader who has no interest in personal reminiscences may omit this paragraph.) he traveled by the erie railroad, and that evening for the first time in his life saw a berth made up in a sleeping-car, and crawled into it. if in his dreams that night, a vision could have flashed upon his inward eye of what that journey was to bring to him in the coming years, he might have deemed it an arabian night's dream. for that visit to chautauqua, not suddenly but in the after years, changed the entire course of his career. it sent him to chautauqua thus far for forty-six successive seasons, and perhaps may round him out in a semi-centennial. it took him out of a parsonage, and made him an itinerant on a continent-wide scale. it put him into dr. vincent's office as an assistant, and later in his chair as his successor. it dropped him down through the years at chautauqua assemblies in almost half of the states of this union. on tuesday morning, august , , i left the train at jamestown, rode across the city, and embarked in a steamer for a voyage up the lake. as we slowly wound our way through the outlet--it was on the old steamer _jamestown_ which was never an ocean-greyhound--i felt like an explorer in some unknown river. over the old pier at fair point was the sign, "national s. s. assembly," and beneath it i stepped ashore on what seemed almost a holy ground, for my first walk was through palestine park. on friday, august th, i gave a normal lesson, the first in my life, with fear and trembling. it was on "the city of jerusalem," and i had practiced on the map until i thought that i could draw it without a copy. but, alas, one of the class must needs come to the blackboard and set my askew diagram in the right relations. twenty years afterward, at an assembly in kansas, an old lady spoke to me after a lesson, "i saw you teach your first lesson at chautauqua. you said that you had never taught a normal class before, and i thought it was the solemn truth. you've improved since then!" some new features had been added to the grounds since the first assembly. near palestine park was standing a fine model of modern jerusalem and its surrounding hills, so exact in its reproduction that one day a bishop pointed out the identical building wherein he had lodged when visiting the city--the same hostel, by the way, where this writer stayed afterward in , and from whose roof he took his first view of the holy places. near palestine park, an oriental house had been constructed, with rooms in two stories around an open court. these rooms were filled with oriental and archæological curiosities, making it a museum; and every day dr. a. o. von lennep, a syrian by birth, stood on its roof and gave in arabic the mohammedan call to prayer. i failed to observe, however, the people at chautauqua prostrating themselves at the summons. indeed, some of them actually mocked the make-believe muezzin before his face. on the hill, near the dining hall, stood a sectional model of the great pyramid, done in lath and plaster, as if sliced in two from the top downward, half of it being shown, and the room inside of it indicated. also there was a model of the tabernacle in the wilderness, covered with its three curtains, and containing within an altar, table, and candlestick. daily lectures were given before it by the rev. j. s. ostrander, wearing the miter, robe, and breastplate of the high priest. the evolution of the chautauqua idea made some progress at the second assembly. instead of eight sessions of the normal class, two were held daily. the program report says that fifty normal sessions were held; regularly two each day, one at o'clock in the morning on a bible topic. breakfast must be rushed through at seven to brace up the students for their class. another was held at : , on some subject pertaining to the pupil or the teacher; with extra sessions in order to complete the specified course. a class in hebrew was held daily by dr. s. m. vail, and attended by forty students. dr. vail had been for many years professor of hebrew in the earliest methodist theological school, the biblical institute at concord, new hampshire, which afterward became the school of theology in boston university. dr. vail was an enthusiast in his love of hebrew language and literature. one who occupied a tent with him--all the workers of that season were lodged in a row of little tents on terrace avenue, two in each tent--averred that his trunk contained only a hebrew bible (he didn't need a lexicon) and a clean shirt. besides the class in hebrew, madame kriege of new york conducted a class in kindergarten teaching, and dr. tourjee of boston, w. f. sherwin, and c. c. case held classes in singing. all these were supposedly for sunday school teachers, but they proved to be the thin end of the wedge opening the way for the coming summer school. even more strongly than at the earlier session, the normal class, with a systematic course of instruction in the bible and sunday school work, was made the center of the program. it is significant of the importance assigned to this department that for several years, no other meeting, great or small, was permitted at the normal hours. the camp must either attend the classes or stay in its tents. at this session, mrs. frank beard, noting the insistent announcement of the normal classes, and the persistent urging that everybody attend them, was moved to verse. as true poetry is precious, her effusion is here given: to chautauqua went on pleasure bent a youth and maiden fair. working in the convention was not their intention, but to drive away dull care. along came john v---- and what did he see but this lover and his lass. says he, "you must get up and dust and go to the normal class." the great event in the assembly of ' was the visit of general u. s. grant, then president of the united states on his second term. it was brought about partly because of the long-time friendship of the general with dr. vincent, dating back to the galena pastorate of and ' , but also through the influence and activity of the rev. dr. theodore l. flood, who though a successful methodist minister was also somewhat of a politician. the president and his party came up from jamestown on a steamer-yacht, and at fair point were lodged in the tent beside the lewis miller cottage. true to his rule while general and president, grant made no speech in public, not even when a handsomely bound bagster bible was presented to him in behalf of the assembly. those were the palmy days of "teachers' bibles," with all sorts of helps and tables as appendices; and at that time the bagster and the american tract society were rivals for the sunday school constituency. not to be outdone by their competitors, the tract society's representative at chautauqua also presented one of his bibles to the president. one can scarcely have too many bibles, and the general may have found use for both of them. he received them with a nod but never a word. yet those who met him at dinners and in social life said that in private he was a delightful talker and by no means reticent. the tents and cottages on the chautauqua of those days were taxed to almost bursting capacity to house the multitude over the sunday of the president's visit. as many more would have come on that day, if the rules concerning sabbath observance had been relaxed, as some had expected. but the authorities were firm, the gates by lake and land were kept closed, and that sunday was like all other sundays at chautauqua. [illustration: spouting tree and oriental house] at the close of the assembly, the normal examinations were given to students; some left the tent in terror after reading over the questions, but struggled to the end and handed in their papers, of which were above the passing grade. there were now two classes of graduates, and the chautauqua normal alumni association was organized. mr. otis f. presbrey of washington, d. c. (the man who on a certain occasion "looked like sixty"), was its first president. the secretary chosen was the rev. j. a. worden, a presbyterian pastor at steubenville, ohio, and one of the normal teachers at chautauqua; who afterward, and for many years, was general secretary and superintendent of sabbath school work in the presbyterian church. at the assembly of , a quiet, unassuming little lady was present, who was already famous, and helped to increase the fame of chautauqua. this was mrs. g. r. alden, the wife of a presbyterian pastor, but known everywhere as "pansy," whose story-books were in almost every sunday school library on the continent. she wrote a book, _four girls at chautauqua_, which ingeniously wove into the account of the actual events of the season, including some of its rainy days--that was the year when it rained more or less on fourteen of the seventeen days of the assembly--her four girls, so well imagined that they seemed real. indeed when one read the account of one's own speech at a children's meeting, he could not doubt that the flossie of the story who listened to it was a veritable flesh and blood girl in the audience. the story became one of the most popular of the pansy books, brought chautauqua to the attention of many thousands, and led large numbers of people to fair point. pansy has ever been a true friend of chautauqua, and has written several stories setting forth its attractions. chapter vi the national centennial year the founders of chautauqua looked forward to its third session with mingled interest and anxiety. it was the centennial year of american independence, and an exposition was opening in philadelphia, far more noteworthy in its buildings and exhibits than any previous effort in the annals of the nation. the world's fair in the crystal palace of new york, in , the first attempt in america to hold an universal exposition, was a pigmy compared with the immense display in the park of philadelphia on the centennial year. could the multitudes from every state and from foreign lands be attracted from philadelphia five hundred miles to chautauqua lake? had the quest of the american people for new interests been satisfied by two years at the assembly? would it be the wiser course in view of the competition to hold merely a modest little gathering at fair point, or to venture boldly upon greater endeavors than ever before; to enlarge the program, to advertise more widely, and to compel attention to the new movement? anyone who knew the adventurous, aspiring nature of both miller and vincent would unhesitatingly answer these questions. the assembly of was planned upon a larger scale than ever before. the formal opening took place on tuesday evening, august st, in the forest-sheltered auditorium, but two gatherings were held in advance and a third after its conclusion, so that the entire program embraced twenty-four days instead of seventeen. the first meeting was the scientific conference, july th to th, aiming both to present science from the christian point of view, and christianity from the scientific point of view, showing the essential harmony between them, without either subjecting conclusions of science to church-authority or cutting up the bible at the behest of the scientists. there had been frequent battles between the theologians and the students of nature and the "conflict of science and religion" had been strongly in evidence, ever since the publication of darwin's _origin of species_ in . most pulpits had uttered their thunders against "darwinism," even though some of the pulpiteers had never read darwin's book, nor could have understood it if they had tried. and many professors who had never listened to a gospel sermon, and rarely opened their bibles, had launched lightnings at the camp of the theologians. but here was something new; a company of scholars including dr. r. ogden doremus of new york, professor a. s. lattimore of rochester, dr. alexander winchell of michigan, and others of equal standing, on the same platform with eminent preachers, and no restraint on either side, each free to utter his convictions, and all certain that the outcome would be peace and not war. the writer of these pages was present at most of those lectures, and remembers one instance showing that the province of science is in the past and the present and not in the future. dr. doremus was giving some brilliant experiments in the newer developments of electricity. be it remembered that it was the year , and in the centennial exposition of that year there was neither an automobile, a trolley-car, nor an electric light. he said, "i will now show you that remarkable phenomenon--the electric light. be careful not to gaze at it too steadily, for it is apt to dazzle the beholder and may injure the eyesight." then as an arc-light of a crude sort flashed and sputtered, and fell and rose again only to sputter and fall, the lecturer said, "of course, the electric light is only an interesting experiment, a sort of toy to amuse spectators. every effort to utilize it has failed, and always will fail. the electric light in all probability will never be of any practical value." yet at that very time, thomas a. edison in menlo park, new jersey, was perfecting his incandescent light, and only three years later, , chautauqua was illuminated throughout by electricity. when the scientist turns prophet he becomes as fallible as the preacher who assumes to prescribe limitations to scientific discovery. we live in an age of harmony and mutual helpfulness between science and religion; and chautauqua has wrought mightily in bringing to pass the new day. it is worthy of mention that chautauqua holds a connecting link with "the wizard of llewellyn park" and his electric light; for some years later mr. edison married miss mina miller, daughter of the founder lewis miller. the miller family, founder, sons, daughters, and grandchildren, have maintained a deep interest in chautauqua; and the swiss cottage at the head of miller park has every year been occupied. representatives of the miller family are always members of the board of trustees. [illustration: rustic bridge over ravine] after the scientific conference came a temperance congress, on july th and th. a new star had arisen in the firmament. out of a little meeting at chautauqua in , had grown the woman's christian temperance union, already in organized in every state and in pretty nearly every town. its founders had chosen for president of the union a young woman who combined in one personality the consummate orator and the wise executive, miss frances elizabeth willard of evanston, illinois, who resigned her post as dean of the woman's department of the northwestern university to enter upon an arduous, a lifelong and world-wide warfare to prohibit intoxicants, and as a means to that end, to obtain the suffrage for women. frances willard died in , but if she could have lived until she would have seen both her aims accomplished in the eighteenth and nineteenth amendments to the constitution of the united states; one forbidding the manufacture and sale of all alcoholic liquors, the other opening the door of the voting-booth to every woman in the land. in statuary hall, washington, the only woman standing in marble is frances e. willard (there will be others later), and her figure is there among the statesmen and warriors of the nation's history, by vote of the legislature of the state of illinois. at every step in the progress of chautauqua the two founders held frequent consultations. both of them belonged to the progressive school of thought, but on some details they differed, and woman's sphere was one of their points of disagreement. miller favored women on the fair point platform, but vincent was in doubt on the subject. of course some gifted women came as teachers of teachers in the primary department of the sunday school, but on the program their appearance was styled a "reception to primary teachers by mrs. or miss so-and-so." dr. vincent knew frances e. willard, admired her, believed honestly that she was one of the very small number of women called to speak in public, and he consented to her coming to chautauqua in the temperance congress of . from the hour of her first appearance there was never after any doubt as to her enthusiastic welcome at chautauqua. no orator drew larger audiences or bound them under a stronger spell by eloquent words than did frances elizabeth willard. frances willard was the first but by no means the last woman to lecture on the chautauqua platform. mrs. mary a. livermore soon followed her, and before many summers had passed, dr. vincent was introducing to the chautauqua constituency women as freely as men, to speak on the questions of the time. another innovation began on this centennial season--_the chautauqua assembly herald_. for two years the assembly had been dependent upon reports by newspaper correspondents, who came to the ground as strangers, with no share in the chautauqua spirit, knowing very little of chautauqua's aims, and eager for striking paragraphs rather than accurate records. a lecturer who is wise never reads the report of his speech in the current newspapers; for he is apt to tear his hair in anguish at the tale of his utterances. chautauqua needed an organ, and dr. theodore l. flood, from the first a staunch friend of the movement, undertook to establish a daily paper for the season. the first number of the _herald_ appeared on june , , with dr. flood as editor, and mr. milton bailey of jamestown as publisher. the opening number was published in advance of the assembly and sent to chautauquans everywhere; but the regular issue began on july th with the scientific conference, and was continued daily (except sunday) until the close of the assembly. every morning sleepers (who ought to have arisen earlier in time for morning prayers at : ) were awakened by the shrill voices of boys calling out "_daily assembly herald_!" the _daily_ was a success from the start, for it contained accurate and complete reports of the most important lectures, outlines of the normal lessons, and the items of information needed by everybody. all over the land people who could not come to chautauqua kept in touch with its life through the _herald_. more than one distinguished journalist began his editorial career in the humble quarters of _the chautauqua daily assembly herald_. for two seasons the _daily_ was printed in mayville, though edited on the ground. in a printing plant was established at the assembly and later became the chautauqua press. almost a generation after its establishment, its name was changed to _the chautauquan daily_, which throughout the year is continued as _the chautauquan weekly_, with news of the chautauqua movement at home and abroad. visitors to chautauqua in the centennial year beheld for the first time a structure which won fame from its inhabitants if not from its architecture. this was the guest house, standing originally on the lake shore near the site of the present men's club building; though nobody remembers it by its official name, for it soon became known as "the ark." no, gentle reader, the report is without foundation that this was the original vessel in which noah traveled with his menagerie, and that after reposing on mount ararat it went adrift on lake chautauqua. "the ark" was built to provide a comfortable home for the speakers and workers at the assembly who for two years had been lodged in tents, like the israelites in the wilderness. it was a frame building of two stories, shingle-roofed, with external walls and internal partitions of tent-cloth. each room opened upon a balcony, the stairs to the upper floor being on the outside and the entire front of each cell a curtain, which under a strong wind was wont to break loose, regardless of the condition of the people inside. after a few years a partition between two rooms at one end was taken down, a chimney and fireplace built, and the result was a living room where the arkites assembled around a fire and told stories. ah, those _noctes ambrosianæ_ when edward everett hale and charles barnard and sherwin and the beards narrated yarns and cracked jokes! through the thin partitions of the bedrooms, every sneeze could be heard. the building was soon dubbed noah's ark, then "knowers' ark," from the varied learning of its indwellers; and sometimes from the reverberations sounding at night, "snorers' ark." frank beard was a little deaf, and was wont to sit at these _conversazioni_ in the parlor of the ark with his hand held like an ear-trumpet. mrs. beard used to say that whenever she wished to hold a private conversation with him, they hired a boat and rowed out at least a mile from the shore. when the assembly enlarged its boundaries by a purchase of land, the ark was moved up to higher ground in the forest near where the normal hall now stands, and there served almost a generation of chautauqua workers, until its frail materials were in danger of collapse, and it was taken down. less famous buildings have been kept in memory by tablets and monuments; but it would require no small slab of marble to contain the names of the famous men and women who dwelt in that old guest house; and what a book might have been made if some boswell had kept the record of its stories and sayings! after spending two nights in the ark, the rev. alfred taylor's poetic muse was aroused to sing of the place and its occupants after this fashion: this structure of timber and muslin contained of preachers and teachers some two or three score; of editors, parsons a dozen or more. there were methodists, baptists, and 'piscopals, too and grave presbyterians, a handful or two. there were lawyers, and doctors and various folks, all full of their wisdom, and full of their jokes. there were writers of lessons, and makers of songs, and shrewd commentators with wonderful tongues; and all of these busy, industrious men found it hard to stop talking at just half-past ten. they talked, and they joked, and they kept such a clatter that neighboring folks wondered what was the matter but weary at last, they extinguished the light, and went to their beds for the rest of the night. the formal opening of the assembly in took place after the scientific and temperance gatherings, on tuesday evening, august st, in the leaf-roofed auditorium, but the benches were now provided with backs for the comfort of the thousands. the platform had been enlarged to make room for a choir, under the leadership in turn of w. f. sherwin and philip p. bliss, whose gospel songs are still sung around the world. only a few months later, that voice was hushed forever on earth, when the train bearing the singer and his wife crashed through a broken bridge at ashtabula, ohio. the record of that evening shows that fifteen speakers gave greetings, supposedly five minutes in length, although occasionally the flow of language overpassed the limit. among the speakers we read the names of dr. henry m. sanders of new york, mr. john d. wattles of the _sunday school times_, dr. henry w. warren of philadelphia, soon to become a bishop in the methodist episcopal church, dr. c. f. burr, the author of _ecce coelum_, a book of astronomy ministering to religion, famous in that day, though almost forgotten in our time; dr. lyman abbott, who came before the audience holding up his pocket-bible, with the words, "i am here to-night, because here this book is held in honor," dr. warren randolph, the head of sunday school work among the baptist churches, and mr. a. o. van lennep, in syrian costume and fez-cap. he made two speeches, one in arabic, the other in english. normal work for sunday school teachers was kept well in the foreground. the subjects of the course were divided into departments, each under a director, who chose his assistants. four simultaneous lessons were given in the section tents, reviewed later in the day by the directors at a meeting of all the classes in the pavilion. in addition, dr. vincent held four public platform reviews, covering the entire course. the record states that about five hundred students were present daily in the normal department. about one hundred undertook the final examinations for membership in the normal alumni association. the writer of these pages well remembers those hours in the pavilion, for he was one of those examined, and frank beard was another. the first question on the paper was, "what is your name and address?" mr. beard remarked audibly, that he was glad he could answer at least one of the questions. to dispel the doubts of our readers, we remark that both of us passed, and were duly enrolled among the normal alumni. [illustration: amphitheater audience on the lake by the lake tennis courts in the lake] the list of the lecturers and their subjects show that bible study and bible teaching still stood at the fore. the program contained with many others the following names: dr. w. e. knox on "the old testament severities," dr. lyman abbott, "bible interpretation," dr. r. k. hargrove of tennessee, later a bishop in the methodist episcopal church, south, "childhood and the sunday school work," dr. george p. hays, then president of washington and jefferson college, "how to reason," frank beard, a caricature lecture with crayon on "our school," showing types of teachers and scholars, dr. george w. woodruff, a most entertaining lecture on "bright days in foreign lands," dr. a. j. baird of tennessee, "going fishing with peter," rev. j. a. worden, "what a presbyterian thinks of john wesley,"--a response to rev. j. l. hurlbut's lecture in on "what a methodist thinks of john knox,"--prof. l. t. townsend, "paul's cloak left at troas"; also dr. richard newton, m. c. hazard, editor of the _national sunday school teacher_, rev. thomas k. beecher of elmira, and bishop jesse t. peck. these are a few samples of the repast spread on the lecture platform of the assembly. the centennial of american independence was duly commemorated on saturday, august th. bishop simpson had been engaged to deliver the oration, but was kept at home by illness and the hour was filled with addresses by different speakers, one of whom, mr. w. aver duncan of london, presented the congratulations of old england to her daughter across the sea. a children's centennial was held in the afternoon, at which the writer of this story spoke, and frank beard drew funny pictures. we will not tell, though we know, which of the two orators pleased the children most. at the sunset hour an impressive bible service was held on the shore of the lake by professor sherwin, followed in the auditorium by a concert of slave-songs from "the north carolinians," a troupe of negro college students. late in the evening came a gorgeous display on the lake, the illuminated fleet. every steam vessel plying chautauqua waters marched in line, led by the old three-decker _jamestown_ all hung with chinese lanterns, and making the sky brilliant with fireworks. a week later there was a commemorative tree-planting on the little park in the angle between the present post office building and the colonnade. president lewis miller, dr. c. h. payne, president of ohio wesleyan university, drs. vail and strong, teachers of hebrew and greek at the assembly, drs. o. h. tiffany, t. k. beecher, richard newton, j. a. worden, beard and sherwin, dr. wythe, builder of palestine park and director of recreations at the assembly, and prof. p. p. bliss were some, but not all of those who planted trees. afterward each tree was marked by a sign bearing the name of its planter. these signs were lost in the process of the years, and not all the trees are now living. i think that i can identify the tree planted by frank beard, but am not sure of any other in the little group remaining at the present time. a noteworthy event at the assembly of was the establishment of the children's meeting as a daily feature. meetings for the younger people had been held from time to time in ' and ' but this year frank beard suggested a regular "children's hour," and the meetings were at first conducted by him, mingling religion and humor. underneath his fun, mr. beard had a serious soul. he read strong books, talked with his friends on serious subjects, always sought to give at least one illustrated bible reading during the assembly, and resented the popular expectation that he should be merely the funny man on the program. he was assisted in his children's meeting by the rev. bethuel t. vincent, a brother of the founder, who was one of the most remarkable teachers of children and young people whom i have ever known. he could arrange the facts of bible knowledge in outline, could present them in a striking manner, and drill them into the minds of the boys and girls in an enduring way that few instructors could equal and none surpass. before many sessions, mr. vincent's lesson became the major feature and beard's pictures the entertainment of the meeting. the grown-ups came to the meetings in such numbers as threatened to crowd out the children, until the rule was made that adults must take the rear seats,--no exception being made even for the row of ear-trumpets--leaving the front to the little people. following the custom of the normal class, an examination in writing that would tax the brains of many ministers was held at the close, limited to all below a certain age, and prizes were awarded to the best papers presented. as after forty years i read the list of graduates in those early classes, i find the names of men and women who have distinguished themselves as ministers and missionaries in the churches. early in the assembly season, on august , , a momentous step was taken in the appointment by the instructors and students of the normal class, of a committee to prepare a course of study for the preparation of sunday school teachers. eleven men, present at chautauqua, representing ten different denominations, were chosen as the committee, and their report constituted the first attempt at a _union_ normal course. hitherto each church had worked out its own independent course of study, and the lines laid down were exceedingly divergent. this new course prescribed forty lessons, a year's work divided between the study of the bible, the sunday school, the pupil, and the principles of teaching. comparing it with the official course now adopted by the international sunday school association, we find it for a year's study remarkably complete and adapted to the teacher's needs. for years it stood as the basis of the teacher-training work at chautauqua, was followed in the preparation of text-books and pursued by many classes in the united states and canada. the centennial year marked a note of progress in the music at the assembly. up to this time scarcely any music had been attempted outside of the church and sunday school hymnals. this year the choir was larger than before, perhaps as many as forty voices--think of that in contrast with the three hundred now assembled in the choir-gallery of the amphitheater! some anthems had been attempted, but no oratorios, and no songs of the secular character. it was professor c. c. case who ventured with the doubtful permission of dr. vincent to introduce at a concert some selections from standard music outside the realm of religion. nobody objected, perhaps because nobody recognized the significance of the step taken; and it was not long before the whole world of music was open to chautauquans. this writer remembers, however, that when at an evening lecture, dr. vincent announced as a prelude "invitation to the dance," sung by a quartette of ladies, he received next day a letter of protest against so immoral a song at a religious gathering. if it had been sung without announcement of its title, no one would have objected. on the following evening, dr. vincent actually offered a mild apology for the title. since that time, the same title has been printed on the chautauqua program, and the song encored by five thousand people. surely, "the world do move!" another step in the advancement of chautauqua was the incorporation of the assembly. up to this year, , the old charter of the erie conference camp meeting association had constituted the legal organization. on april , , new articles of incorporation were signed at mayville, the county seat, providing for twenty-four trustees of the chautauqua lake sunday school assembly. in the charter the object was stated "to hold stated public meetings from year to year upon the grounds at fair point in the county of chautauqua for the furtherance of sunday school interests and any other moral and religious purpose not inconsistent therewith." we note that the old name fair point was still used to designate the place of the assembly. but it was for the last time; with the next year's program a new name will appear. one of the first acts of the new board was to purchase a large addition to the camp-meeting ground on its eastern border, and to lay out streets upon it. this section included the campus and site of the buildings that now adorn the college hill. some readers may inquire how the streets of the assembly received their names. during the camp meeting period, the streets were named after bishops of the methodist episcopal church--simpson avenue, janes avenue, merrill avenue, and so on. under the assembly régime a few more bishops were thus remembered; the road winding around from palestine park to the land-gate on the public highway was called palestine avenue; vincent avenue ran straight up the hill past the old dining hall, miller avenue parallel with it on the west; and other streets later were named after prominent chautauqua leaders. wythe the first secretary, root, the first vice-president, massey, a family from canada making liberal contributions, miss kimball, the efficient executive secretary of the reading circle, and a few other names in chautauqua's annals. the visitor to the present-day chautauqua smiles as he reads one of the earliest enactments of the new board, a resolution to instruct the superintendent of grounds "to warn the person selling tobacco on the grounds that he is engaged in an unlawful occupation." we hasten to add that this anti-tobacco regulation is no longer in operation. [illustration: old palace hotel oriental group lake-shore the ark tent-life old dining hall n. e. kitchen group of workers woodland path] the reader of this chapter perceives that the centennial year marked notable advancements at chautauqua: a lengthened and broadened program, the establishing of a newspaper, the beginning of the daily children's meeting with a course of bible study for the young, the organizing of a definite course for the training of sunday school teachers, the incorporation of the assembly with a full board of trustees, with the transfer of the property from the former camp-meeting proprietorship, and a purchase of ground doubling the extent of its territory. chautauqua, only three years old is already, in scripture phrase, lengthening its cords and strengthening its stakes. chapter vii a new name and new faces the fourth session of the assembly opened in with a new name, _chautauqua_ taking the place of old fair point. the former title had caused some confusion. fair point was often misread "fairport," and letters wandered to distant places of similar names. there was a chautauqua lake station on the erie railway, and a chautauqua point encampment across the lake from fair point, but the name "chautauqua" had not been appropriated, and by vote of the trustees it was adopted; the government was requested to change the name of the post office, and the railroads and steamboats to place chautauqua upon their announcements. fair point disappeared from the record, and is now remembered only by the decreasing group of the oldest chautauquans. every season brings its own anxieties, and as the assembly of drew near, a new fear came to the leaders of chautauqua. a few will remember, and others have heard, that in took place the most extensive railway strike in the annals of the nation. the large station of the pennsylvania railroad in pittsburgh was burned by a mob, and for weeks at a time, no trains ran either into or out of many important centers. fortunately the strike was adjusted and called off before the assembly opened, and on the first day four thousand people entered the gates, a far greater number than at any former opening. on that year the menace of denominational rivalry threatened to confront chautauqua. across the lake, two miles from the assembly, another point reaches westward, facing the assembly ground. this tract was purchased by an enterprising company belonging to baptist churches, and named point chautauqua. its founders disclaimed any intention of becoming competitors with the assembly. their purpose, as announced, was to supply sites for summer homes, especially to members and friends of their own denomination. they began by building an expensive hotel at a time when the assembly was contented with small boarding houses; and they soon followed the hotel with a large lecture-hall far more comfortable than either the out-door auditorium or the tent-pavilion at chautauqua. to attract visitors they soon provided a program of speakers, with occasional concerts. thus on opposite shores of the lake two institutions were rising, in danger of becoming rivals in the near future. nor was chautauqua point the only rival in prospect. a year or two later a tent was erected near lakewood for the holding of an assembly upon a "liberal" platform, where speakers of more advanced views of religion and the bible could obtain a hearing. this gathering favored an open sunday, and welcomed the steamers and railroad excursions on the day when the gates of chautauqua were kept tightly closed. in those days the fear was expressed that chautauqua lake, instead of being a center for christians of every name might furnish sites for separate conventions of different sects, and thus minister to dissension rather than to fellowship. but these fears proved to be groundless. the "liberal" convocation down the lake held but one session, and left its promoters with debts to be paid. the founders of the baptist institution made the mistake of beginning on too great a scale. the hotel and lecture-hall involved the corporation of point chautauqua in heavy debt, they were sold, and the place became a village, like other hamlets around the lake. the hotel was continued for some years, and the lecture-hall became a dancing pavilion, tempting the young people to cross the lake from chautauqua where dancing was under a strict taboo. perhaps it was an advantage to the thousands at the assembly to find only two miles away a place where the rules were relaxed. one story of a later season may be told in this connection, for it was without doubt typical. there are staid fathers and mothers attending lectures on sociology and civics in the hall of philosophy who could narrate similar experiences if only they would. a youth and two young lasses went out at the pier-gate for a sail across the lake. they landed at point chautauqua, refreshed their constrained bodies by a good dance, and then sailed home again. but it was late, the gate was closed, and it was of no avail to rattle the portals, for the gate-keepers were asleep in their homes far up the hill. the girls were somewhat alarmed, but the young man piloted them through the forest over a well-worn path to a place where some pickets of the fence were loose and could be shoved aside. they squeezed through and soon were safely at their homes. but their troubles were not over. their tickets had been punched to go out of the grounds, but not to come in again. technically, in the eyes of the chautauqua government they were still outside the camp. this young man, however, was not lacking in resources. he knew all the officials from his whiskers, the supreme chief of police, down the list. making choice of one gateman whose nature was somewhat social he called upon him in his box, talked in a free and easy way, picked up his punch and began making holes in paper and cards. when the gatekeeper's back was turned, he quickly brought out the three tickets, punched them for coming into the grounds, and then laid down the nippers. the girls, now officially within the grounds, were grateful to their friend, and to manifest their regard wrought for him a sofa-pillow which decorated his room in college. something should be said just here concerning the ticket-system of chautauqua. it was devised by the genius of lewis miller, to whom invention was instinctive, and was improved to meet every possible attempt at evasion. there were one-day tickets, good for only one admission, three-day tickets, week-tickets, and season-tickets, all providing no admission on sundays. they were not transferable, and all except the one-day variety bore the purchaser's name. two or three times during the season officers visited every house and every lecture and class, even stopping everybody on the streets to see that no single-day tickets were kept for longer periods. provision was made for exchanging at the office short-stop tickets for the longer time desired. if one wished to go outside the gate on an errand, or for a sail on the lake, he must leave his ticket, unless he was known to the gate-keeper, in order to prevent more than one person from using the same ticket. when one left the assembly for good, he gave up his ticket. every ticket had its number by which it could be identified if lost or found; and the bulletin-board contained plenty of notices of lost tickets. it is said that one careful visitor carried his ticket everywhere for a day or two, at each lecture-hall and tent looking vainly for a window where it might be shown. as it did not seem to be needed, he left it in his room, only to find when he wished to take out a boat, that he must go home and get his ticket. when the day arrived for him to leave chautauqua, he placed his ticket in the bottom of his trunk, as it would be needed no longer, intending to take it home as a souvenir for his memory-book. but, alas, at the gate, departing, he found that ticket an absolute necessity. without it, apparently he must stay forever inside the walls of chautauqua. so once more he overhauled his trunk, dug up his ticket from its lowest strata, and departed in peace. one departure from camp-meeting customs at once wrought a change in the aspect of chautauqua and greatly promoted its growth. we have noted the fact that in the earlier years no householder or tent-dweller was to receive boarders, and all except those who cooked at home ate in a common dining-hall. after the third assembly, this restriction was removed and anyone could provide rooms and board upon paying a certain percentage of receipts to the management. the visitors who came in missed, but not in sorrow, the dingy old dining-hall, which had been torn down. but everywhere boarding houses had sprung up as by magic, and cottages had suddenly bulged out with new additions, while signs of "rooms and board" greeted the visitants everywhere. in fact, so eager were the landlords for their prey, that runners thronged the wharf to inform new arrivals of desirable homes, and one met these agents even at the station in mayville. there was an announcement of the palace hotel, the abode of luxurious aristocracy. the seeker after its lordly accommodations found a frame building, tent-covered and tent-partitioned into small rooms for guests. but even this was an improvement upon the rows of cots in the big second story of the old lodging house, where fifty people slept in one room, sometimes with the rain dripping upon them through a leaky roof. year by year the boarding cottages grew in number, in size, and in comfort. fain would we name some of these hostelries, whose patrons return to them season after season, but we dare not begin the catalogue, lest by an omission we should offend some beloved landlady and her guests. in a few years the palace hotel, half-house and half-tent, gave place to the hotel athenæum, on the same site, whose wide balcony looks out upon the lake, and whose tower has been a home for some choice spirits. the writer knows this for he has dwelt beside them. [illustration: old hall of philosophy] [illustration: the golden gate prof. w. c. wilkinson, dr. j. h. vincent, lyman abbott, bishop h. w. warren] on the extreme southwestern limit of the old camp ground was a ravine, unoccupied until . on the slopes of this valley the declivity was cleared and terraced, seats--this time with backs--were arranged upon its sides; toward the lake it was somewhat banked up to form a place for the speakers' platform. over it was spread the tent, formerly known as "the pavilion," brought from the hill beside vincent avenue. this was the nucleus out of which grew in after years the famous chautauqua amphitheater. at first it was used only on rainy days, but after a year or two gradually took the place of the out-of-doors auditorium. near the book-store on the hill stands a small gothic, steep-roofed building, now a flower-shop. it was built just before the assembly of as a church for the benefit of those who lived through the year at chautauqua, numbering at that time about two hundred people. the old chapel was the first permanent public building erected at chautauqua and still standing. the program of ' began with a council of reform and church congress, from saturday, august th to tuesday, august th. anthony comstock, that fearless warrior in the cause of righteousness, whose face showed the scars of conflict, who arrested more corrupters of youth, and destroyed more vile books, papers, and pictures than any other social worker, was one of the leading speakers. he reported at that time the arrest of dealers in obscene literature and the destruction of over twenty tons of their publications. there is evil enough in this generation, but there would have been more if anthony comstock had not lived in the last generation. another reformer of that epoch was francis murphy, who had been a barkeeper, but became a worker for temperance. his blue ribbon badge was worn by untold thousands of reformed drunkards. he had a power almost marvelous of freeing men from the chain of appetite. i was present once at a meeting in new york where from the platform i looked upon a churchful of men, more than three hundred in number, whose faces showed that the "pleasures of sin" are the merest mockery; and after his address a multitude came forward to sign mr. murphy's pledge and put on his blue ribbon. at chautauqua mr. murphy made no appeal to victims of the drink habit, for they were not there to hear him, but he _did_ appeal, and most powerfully, in their behalf, to the christian assemblage before him. another figure on the platform was that of john b. gough,--we do not call him a voice, for not only his tongue, but face, hands, feet, even his coat-tails, were eloquent. no words can do justice to this peerless orator in the cause of reform. these were the three mighty men of the council, but the report shows twice as many names almost as distinguished. on the evening of tuesday, august th, came the regular opening of the assembly proper, in the auditorium on the point. the report of attendance was far above that of any former opening day. dr. vincent presided and conducted the responsive service of former years--the same opening sentences and songs used every year since the first assembly in . we find fifteen names on the list of the speakers on that evening, representing many churches, many states, and at least two lands outside our own. is another story of frank beard on that evening beneath the dignity of history? when he came upon the platform, he found the chairs occupied, and sat down among the alto singers, where he insisted on remaining despite the expostulations of mr. sherwin. in the middle of the exercises, the steamboat whistle at the pier gave an unusually raucous scream. mr. sherwin came forward and told the audience that there was no cause for alarm; the sound was merely mr. beard tuning his voice to sing alto. two or three speakers afterward incidentally referred to mr. beard as a singer, and hoped that he might favor the congregation with a solo. one of the speakers, an englishman, prefaced his talk by singing an original song, set to chautauqua music. that he might see his verses, mr. sherwin took down a locomotive headlight hanging on one of the trees, and held it by the side of the singer. the englishman, short and fat, and sherwin with dignity supporting the big lantern, formed a tableau. immediately afterward dr. vincent called on mr. beard to speak; and this was his opening, delivered in his peculiar drawl. "i was a good mind to sing a song instead of making a speech, but i was sure that professor sherwin wouldn't hold the lantern for me to sing by. he knows that he can't hold a candle to me, anyhow!" with professor sherwin, in charge of the music in , was associated philip phillips, whose solos formed a prelude to many of the lectures. no one who listened to that silvery yet sympathetic voice ever forgot it. it will be remembered that president lincoln in washington, after hearing him sing _your mission_, sent up to the platform his written request to have it repeated before the close of the meeting. mr. phillips ever after cherished that scrap of paper with the noblest name in the history of america. another musical event of the season of was the visit of the young apollo club of new york, one of the largest and finest boy-choirs in the country. they gave three concerts at chautauqua, which in the rank and rendering of their music were a revelation to the listening multitudes. while we are speaking of the music we must make mention of songs written and composed especially for chautauqua. in dr. vincent's many-sided nature was a strain of poetry, although i do not know that he ever wrote a verse. yet he always looked at life and truth through poetic eyes. who otherwise would have thought of songs for chautauqua, and called upon a poet to write them? dr. vincent found in miss mary a. lathbury another poet who could compose fitting verses for the expression of the chautauqua spirit. if i remember rightly her first song was prepared for the opening in , the second assembly, and as the earliest, it is given in full. in it is a reference to some speakers at the first assembly who went on a journey to the holy land, and to one, the rev. f. a. goodwin, whose cornet led the singing in , who became a missionary in india. a hymn of greeting the flush of morn, the setting suns have told their glories o'er and o'er one rounded year, since, heart to heart we stood with jesus by the shore. we heard his wondrous voice; we touched his garment's hem with rev'rent hand, then at his word, went forth to preach his coming kingdom in the land. and following him, some willing feet the way to emmaus have trod; and some stand on the orient plains, and some--upon the mount of god! while over all, and under all, the master's eye, the master's arm, have led in paths we have not known, yet kept us from the touch of harm. one year of golden days and deeds, of gracious growth, of service sweet; and now beside the shore again we gather at the master's feet. "blest be the tie that binds," we sing; yet to the bending blue above we look, beyond the face of friends, to mark the coming of the dove. descend upon us as we wait with open heart--with open word; breathe on us, mystic paraclete breathe on us, spirit of the lord! another song of the second assembly, and sung through the years since at the services of the chautauqua circle, was written and set to music by miss lucy j. rider of chicago, afterward mrs. lucy rider meyer, one of the founders of the deaconess movement in the methodist episcopal church. it begins with the lines: the winds are whispering to the trees, the hill-tops catch the strain, the forest lifts her leafy gates to greet god's host again. in the year of which we are writing, , mary a. lathbury gave to chautauqua two songs which have become famous, and are to be found in every hymnal published during the last generation. one is the evening song of praise, "day is dying in the west," written to be sung at the even-tide conferences beside the lake. the other, beginning, "break thou the bread of life," was the study song for the normal classes. another, less widely known abroad, but sung every year at chautauqua is the alumni song, "join, o friends, in a memory song." these were a few of the many songs written by miss lathbury at dr. vincent's request, and set to music by professor sherwin. originally composed for the normal class, then the most prominent feature on the program, after the chautauqua circle arose to greatness in , they were adopted as the songs of that widespread organization. for the c. l. s. c. a class song was written each year, until the chautauqua songs grew into a book. not all of these class songs have become popular, but quite a number are still sung at the institution, especially at class-meetings and in the recognition day services. at the assembly of the normal class still stood in the foreground. special courses of lessons were given to primary teachers, by mrs. emily huntington miller, mrs. wilbur f. crafts, and the ever-popular "pansy"--mrs. g. r. alden. the record informs us that the average attendance at the four normal tents was more than five hundred. thorough reviews after the course were held from time to time, and this year two competitive examinations, one on august th for those unable to remain until the close, but received examination on the entire course--fifty questions in number; the other on tuesday, august st with three hundred candidates for the diploma. from for a number of years it was the custom to hold an anniversary service on one evening, for the normal alumni. the graduates marched in procession, led by a band, a silken banner before each class, and every member wearing a badge, to the pavilion in the ravine and afterward to its successor the amphitheater, where chautauqua songs were sung, and an address given by an orator, the president of the normal alumni introducing the speaker. it may have been in , or maybe in a later year, that john b. gough was the orator of the evening; and he began his address in this wise: i don't know why i have been chosen to speak to the alumni of chautauqua, unless it is because i am an alumni myself, if that is the right word for one of them. i am art alumni of amherst college; m.a., master of arts. i have a diploma, all in latin. i can't read a word of it, and don't know what it means, but those long latin words look as if they must mean something great. when i was made an alumni i sat on the platform of the commencement day; the salutatorian--they told me that was his title--came up and began to speak in latin. he said something to the president, and he bowed and smiled as if he understood it. he turned to the trustees, and spoke to them and they looked as wise as they could. he said something to the graduating class, and they seemed to enjoy it--all in latin; and i hadn't the remotest idea what it was all about. i kept saying to myself, "i wish that he would speak just one word that i could understand." finally, the orator turned straight in my direction and said, "ignoramus!" i smiled, and bowed, just as the others had. there was one word that i could understand, and it exactly fitted my case! on the lecture platform of , the outstanding figure was the massive frame, the jupiter-like head, and the resonant voice of joseph cook, one of the foremost men of that generation in the reconciliation of science with religion--if the twain ever needed a reconciliation. he gave six lectures, listened to by vast audiences. the one most notable was that entitled, "does death end all?" in which he assembled a host of evidences, outside of the scriptures, pointing to the soul's immortality. joseph cook is well-nigh forgotten in this day, but in his generation he was an undoubted power as a defender of the faith. if we were to name the rev. james m. buckley, d.d., in the account of each year when he spoke in the platform and the subjects of his addresses, there would be room in our record for few other lecturers. he was present at the opening session in , and at almost every session afterward for more than forty years,--aggressive in debate, instantaneous in repartee, marvelous in memory of faces and facts, and ready to speak upon the widest range of subjects. every year, dr. buckley held a question-drawer, and few were the queries that he could not answer; although in an emergency he might dodge a difficulty by telling a story. for many years he was the editor of the _christian advocate_ in new york, known among methodists as the "great official"; and he made his paper the champion of conservatism, for he was always ready to break a lance in behalf of orthodox belief or the methodist system. another speaker this year was dr. p. s. henson, a baptist pastor successively in philadelphia, in chicago, and in boston, but by no means limited to one parish in his ministry. he spoke under many titles, but most popularly on "fools," and "the golden calf," and he knew how to mingle wisdom and wit in just proportions. abundant as were his resources in the pulpit and on the platform, some of us who sat with him at the table or on a fallen tree in the forest, thought that he was even richer and more delightful, as well as sagacious in his conversation. dr. charles f. deems, pastor of the church of the stranger in new york, also came to chautauqua for the first time this year. he was at home equally in theology, in science, and on the questions of the day, with a remarkable power of making truth seemingly abstruse simple to common people. i recall a lecture on a scientific subject, at which he saw on the front seat two boys, and he made it his business to address those boys and simplify his message seemingly for them while in reality for his entire audience. but we cannot even name the speakers who gave interest to the program of . one event of that season, however, must not be omitted, for it became the origin of one noteworthy chautauqua custom. mr. s. l. greene, from ontario, canada, a deaf-mute, gave an address before a great audience in the auditorium under the trees. he spoke in the sign-language, telling several stories from the gospels; and so striking were his silent symbols that everyone could see the picture. we were especially struck with his vivid representation of christ stilling the tempest. as he closed, the audience of at least two thousand burst into applause, clapping their hands. dr. vincent came forward, and said, "the speaker is unable to hear your applause; let us wave our handkerchiefs instead of clapping our hands." in an instant the grove was transformed into a garden of white lilies dancing under the leaves of the trees, or as some said, "into a snow-covered field." the superintendent of instruction then and there adopted the chautauqua salute of the waving handkerchiefs as a token of special honor. it is sparingly given, only two or three times during the season, and never except when called for by the head of chautauqua in person. at the annual commemoration on "old first night" the chautauqua salute is now given in a peculiar manner to the memory of lewis miller and other leaders who are no longer among us. at the call of the president, the handkerchiefs are slowly raised and held in absolute stillness for a moment; then as silently lowered. the chautauqua salute is one of the traditions observed in minutest detail after the manner of the founders. among the early issues of the _assembly herald_ appear some verses worthy of a place in our history. the chautauqua salute by may m. bisbee have you heard of a wonderful lily that blooms in the fields of air? with never a stem or a pale green leaf, spotless, and white, and fair? unnamed in the books of wise men, nor akin to the queenly rose; but the white chautauqua lily is the fairest flower that grows. never in quiet meadows, by brookside cool and green, in garden-plot, nor in forest glen, this wonderful flower is seen. it grows in goodly companies, a theme for the poet's pen; it loves not silence, nor cold nor dark, but it blooms in the haunts of men. the nation trails its great men of high and honored name, with clapping of hands and roll of drums and trump that sings of fame; but a sweet and silent greeting to the ones we love the best, are the white chautauqua lilies in our summer home of rest. when the beautiful vesper service has died on the evening air, and a thousand happy faces are raised at the close of prayer, the voice of our well-loved leader rings out in its clear-toned might; "we will give our salutation to an honored guest to-night." then out of the speaking silence the white wings rise to air, faintest of flutter and softest of sound, hail to the lilies rare! thousands and tens of thousands, swiftly the lilies grow, till the air is filled with the fluttering flowers, as the winter air with snow. hail to the fair white lilies! sweetest of salutations! the love of a thousand hearts they bear the greeting of the nations. the fairest of earth-born flowers must wither by-and-by; but the lilies that live in the hearts they hail will never, never die. o cold blast, spare the lily-bed that bears the wonderful flower! give largely, o sky, of summer sun, largely of summer shower, till the white flowers born in our summer home to earth's outermost rim be given; and the lilies open their cups of snow in the garden beds of heaven. at the final meeting of the assembly in , on monday evening, august th, dr. vincent outlined some plans for the coming year,--a large hotel to replace the tented walls of the pavilion palace, a new meeting-place to be built with walls and roof over the natural amphitheater in the ravine, some further courses of study, and many improvements to the grounds. then he added, "and i shall not be surprised if--well, i will not tell you--i have another dream i will not give you." (a voice: "let's have it.") "no, i am going to hold that back, so you will want me to come next year. but i believe that something higher and larger is just out yonder in the near future. next summer, if we all live, i will tell you about it." we shall see in the coming chapter what that new development of chautauqua was to be,--the greatest in its history, and perhaps the greatest in the history of education through the land. chapter viii the chautauqua reading circle [illustration: flower girls on recognition day] [illustration: flower girls of elizabeth vincent and paul harper leading] the "dream" of which dr. vincent gave a hint at the close of the assembly was destined to become a reality in . that year marks a golden milestone in the history of chautauqua, for then was launched _the chautauqua literary and scientific circle_, that goodly vessel which has sailed around the world, has carried more than a half-million of passengers, and has brought inspiration and intelligence to multitudes unnumbered. the conception arose in its author's mind from the consciousness of his own intellectual needs. he had longed, but vainly, for the privilege of higher education in the college, but in his youth there were no boards of education with endowments extending a helping hand to needy students. his school-days ended in the academy, but not his education, for he was to the end of his life a student, reading the best books, even when their subjects and style demanded a trained mind. as one who knew him well and for more than a generation, i may say without hesitation that john heyl vincent possessed more knowledge and richer culture than nine out of ten men holding a college diploma. but his heart went out in sympathy toward others who like himself had missed the opportunity of dwelling in college-cloisters, toward workers on the farm, at the forge, in the store, in the office, in the kitchen, and in the factory, whose longings were like his own. many of these would read good books and drink at "the pierian spring," if only they knew where to find the fountain--in other words, if some intelligent, well-read person would direct them, and place the best books in their way. gradually it dawned upon his mind that everyone has some margin of time, at least half an hour among the twenty-four, which might be made useful under wise counsel to win knowledge. he had not heard of that sentence spoken by the great president of harvard, that "ten minutes a day, for ten years of a life, with the right books, will give any one an education." indeed, that wise utterance came after the chautauqua circle had been established and was already giving guidance to many thousand people. the conception came to dr. vincent of a course of reading, which might become to the diligent a course of study, to include the principal subjects of a college curriculum, all in the english language, omitting the mathematical and technical departments of science; a course that would give to its careful reader, not the mental discipline of four years in college, but something of the college outlook upon life and letters. it was to embrace the histories of the great nations that shaped the world--israel, greece, rome, great britain, and america,--with shorter sketches of other important lands; a view over the literature of the ages, not in the original greek, latin, or german, but as translated into our own tongue, presented in a manner to give general understanding to the many, and also to awaken the aspiring reader by pointing out the path to thorough knowledge. there are tens of thousands who have studied the bible only in the english version, yet could pass a better examination upon its contents than many graduates of the theological seminary. one might read such an account of homer's _odyssey_, or virgil's _Ã�neid_, or dante's _paradiso_, or goethe's _faust_, as would inspire him to seek and study a complete translation of these masterpieces. dr. edward everett hale, from the beginning one of the counselors of the chautauqua course, said that it gives to its students "the language of the time"; not a full detailed knowledge, but such a general view as enables him to understand allusions and references, to be at home with the thinkers and writers of the age. the chautauqua circle was not planned for specialists, seeking full knowledge upon one subject, but for general readers. before it was inaugurated there was already established in boston the society for the encouragement of home study. the student who desired aid through this useful organization was expected to select some one department of knowledge, and then a list of books or articles would be sent to him, with suggestions, questions, and an examination. if historical, it would not be history in general, but the history of one country, or one period in its annals. it might be the american, or french, or english revolution--very thorough, but only for one seeking special knowledge. but the chautauqua plan contemplated a general round of knowledge--history, literature, science, natural and social, art, and religion: and this broad conception was one great secret of its success. a story which is typical was told the writer of this volume as an absolute fact by one who claimed to know the persons referred to. a young lady called upon her pastor with this request; "i wish that you would tell me of some good books to read. i'm tired of reading nothing but novels, and want to find some books that are worth while. can't you give me the names of some such books?" the minister thought a moment, and then said slowly, "well, what kind of books do you want--religious books, for instance?" "no," said the girl, "i do not know as i wish to read about religion. i get that in the church and the sunday school. but there must be some good books of other kinds--can't you tell me of them?" "what would you think of a course of reading in history?" asked the pastor. her face brightened somewhat, and she answered, "why, i think that i might like to read history. what would you recommend for me?" the minister glanced at his own shelves, thought a moment, and then said, "well, i can't all at once name a course on such an important subject as history. come next wednesday, and i'll have a list of good books for you." she came, and he showed her a formidable catalogue of books, saying: "i have done the best that i could do, but the list is longer than i had expected. it includes eighty volumes. i wrote down one hundred and twenty volumes at first, but cut it down to eighty, and it cannot be made shorter, not by a single volume. in fact, it is not as complete as it should be. you will begin with the greatest book of history in all literature--gibbon's _decline and fall of the roman empire_, in nine volumes!" the young lady was appalled, and never went through the first chapter of gibbon's mighty work. this was before the chautauqua home reading course was evolved. after that had been launched any intelligent minister, or helpful librarian, would simply have said to the enquirer, "send for a circular of the c. l. s. c.; that will give you exactly what you need." [illustration: pioneer hall: class of . c. l. s. c.] [illustration: old college building] there comes to my own mind a vivid remembrance of that evening when for the first time i heard those magic words--"the chautauqua literary and scientific circle." in the early spring of , dr. vincent had just returned from an official visit to europe, and i was no longer at plainfield, five minutes' walk from his home, but by the revolution of the itinerant wheel a pastor, thirty miles distant. a message came asking me to spend an evening with him and talk over some new plans for chautauqua. of course, i obeyed the call, for i always gained more than i gave in any conversation with that fruitful mind. we sat in front of the fireplace in his study, and i listened while for an hour he talked of a new organization which he proposed to launch in the coming season, to be named _the chautauqua literary and scientific circle_; with a course of study to be carried through four years, with forty minutes as each day's task, for nine or ten months of each year, in the various branches of knowledge, analogous to the four years of college study. he was so full of his theme and so eloquent upon it that i could only listen to the outpouring utterances. the general purpose was clear before him, but not the details of its operation. dr. vincent's eyes were ever set upward toward the mountain-tops glorious in the sunlight, and he did not always think of the thickets to be cut and the path to be made from the lower plain to the summit. i could see some of the difficulties in the way, some obstacles that must be overcome, and sagely shook my head in doubt of the scheme. it was a radical departure from the earlier ideals, for thus far everything on the chautauqua program had been along the line of sunday school training, and this was a forsaking of the well-trodden path for a new world of secular education. why try to rival the high schools and arouse the criticism of the colleges? how would the regular constituency of chautauqua feel at this innovation? no doubt under the spell of his enthusiasm, some would join the proposed class in literature and science--but how could science be studied by untrained people without laboratories, or apparatus, or teachers? and after the spell of the chautauqua season would not the pledges be forgotten at home, and the numbers in the home classes soon dwindle away to nothing? dr. vincent asked me a question as we sat in the glow of the fireplace. "how many do you think can be depended on to carry on such a course as is proposed?" "oh, perhaps a hundred!" i answered. "people who want to read will find books, and those who don't care for reading will soon tire of serious study." the doctor sprang up from his chair and walked nervously across the room. "i tell you, mr. hurlbut, the time will come when you will see a thousand readers in the c. l. s. c." i smiled, the smile of kindly unbelief! his impulse, his dream was noble, to be sure, but so utterly impracticable. i tell this little tale to show how far below the reality were the expectations of us both. only a few years after this conversation the enrolled members of the c. l. s. c. counted sixty thousand readers pursuing the course at one time, with probably as many more readers unregistered. the opening evening of the assembly was held on tuesday evening, august th. the vesper service beginning, "the day goeth away, the shadows of evening are stretched out, praise waiteth for thee, o god, in zion," etc., was read responsively in the auditorium between the miller cottage and the vincent tent, then not far from the point, when a sudden shower fell and a general rush was made to the new pavilion in the ravine on the west. that was the last opening service attempted out-of-doors. since that evening, the pavilion, soon to become the amphitheater, has supplied the stage for the speakers, sedate or humorous, short or long,--some of them longer than the audience desired--on "old first night." a few lectures were given from time to time in the old auditorium, but after the season of it was left for smaller meetings of couples in communion of soul on the seats here and there under the trees. the inauguration of the chautauqua literary and scientific circle took place in the pavilion on the afternoon of saturday, august , . on the platform, then lower than most of the seats, were a telescope, a microscope, a globe, some scientific apparatus, and a table filled with books, giving a scholastic setting to the exercises. dr. vincent presided, and with him were bishop randolph s. foster of boston, dr. henry w. warren of philadelphia, himself two years afterward to become a bishop, professor william c. wilkinson, whose pen in the following years wrote many books for the readers of the c. l. s. c., professor james strong of wide learning, and several other eminent men. the address of the day, unfolding the purpose and plan of the circle, was given by dr. vincent. many of us who heard him on that afternoon have thought since that this was the masterpiece of his lifetime, and it might worthily be so, for it launched a movement in education, the most influential and wide-reaching of any in the annals of the nation. i wish that it were possible to reprint that great address as reported in full in the _assembly herald_, for never was the conception of chautauqua at home for nine months of the year more clearly set forth, but a few quotations and outlines must suffice. he began by calling attention to four classes of people. first, those who inherit from their ancestors wealth, ease, and large intellectual opportunities, who find college doors opening almost of their own accord before them. second, there are those born under the necessity of daily toil. for these the education of the public school is provided; but it is limited and rarely appreciated. children go to school to get knowledge enough for bread-winning and no more. third, there are those who, born under necessity, struggle into opportunity, fight their way up into power, and make themselves the intellectual heroes of their time. fourth, there are many born under necessity, who lack the vision at the beginning, who enter upon a life of trade or labor which may bring them success, but who gradually awake to realize how much they have lost, without realizing that it is never too late to gain culture and that education ends only with life. this is the class in every community which our new organization aims to reach, to uplift, to inspire and stimulate. we propose to give to these people in every walk of life, both the rich, the middle class, and the poor--all in one class in their condition and their needs--the college student's outlook upon the world of thought, by short studies in literature and science, by the reading of books, by the preparation of synopses of books read, by written reports of books read, and by correspondence with experts in the several departments. here are some of the advantages of this organization: it will develop higher and nobler tastes, increase mental power, exalt home-life, giving authority and home-help in public school studies and organizing homes into reading circles. it will counteract the influence of our modern pernicious literature and sweeten and enrich the daily lives of poor and hard-working people. it will bring the more cultivated people into contact with the less scholarly, promote a true appreciation of science, and tend to increase the spiritual life and power of the church. all knowledge becomes glorified in the man whose heart is consecrated to god. as i copy these words in the year , more than forty years after they were spoken and printed, with each sentence there rise to my mind instances that have come to my own knowledge of every one of these prophecies fulfilled. chautauqua through its home-reading course has accomplished far more than its founder even dreamed. the speaker answered an objection to the plan of study based upon its superficiality. superficial it is, and so is any college course of study. the boy who stands at the close of his senior year, on commencement day, to receive his parchment and whatever honors belong to him, who does not feel that his whole course has been superficial, will not be likely to succeed in the after struggle of life. but superficiality is better than absolute ignorance. it is better for a man to take a general survey, to catch somewhere a point that arrests him; for the man who never takes a survey never catches the point in which dwell the possibilities of power for him. when you sow seed, it is not the weight of the seed put into the soil that tells, it is the weight of the harvest that comes after. here are some of the closing words of the address: how glad i should be if i should find in the future years that more boys and girls are going to our high schools and universities because of the impulse received here at chautauqua! and i say to you: with all your getting, get understanding. look through microscopes, but find god. look through telescopes, but find god. look for him revealed in the throbbing life about you, in the palpitating stars above, in the marvelous records of the earth beneath you, and in your own souls. study the possibilities which god unfolds, and make of yourself all that you can. the harder the struggle, the brighter the crown. have faith and holy purpose. go on to _know_ and to _will_, to _do_ and _be_. when outward circumstances discourage, trample the circumstances under foot. be master of circumstances, like the king that god has called you to be. god give you such hearts, such toil, such triumphs, and give you such masterhood as shall one day place you among the kings and priests of a redeemed and purified universe! after the applause following this address subsided, a poem was read, written for the occasion by the ever-ready mary a. lathbury. it pictured the modern chautauqua as representing the old jerusalem which pilgrims sought for worship and inspiration. we can only quote its final stanzas: the life of god is shining upon her where she stands; and leaf by leaf unfolding within her reverent hands, the earth and seas and heavens disclose her secrets old, and every force of nature reveals its heart of gold! now knoweth she the answer that ends the schoolmen's strife,-- that knowledge bears no blossom till quickened by the life. o holy, holy city! the life of god with men! descending out of heaven to ne'er ascend again. o light, o life immortal! one sea above, below! if unto us be given that blessed thing,--_to know_-- hope's beatific vision, and faith's prophetic sight shall die before the fullness of that unclouded light. after the reading of the poem, dr. vincent said, "in the preparation for this important occasion, i have consulted some of the most experienced and practical educators of the country, and from a number of distinguished gentlemen i have received letters relating to this movement." [illustration: c. l. s. c. alumni hall] we can only quote a sentence or two from a few of these letters. dr. lyman abbott wrote: it seems to me if you can lay out such plans of study, particularly in the departments of practical science, as will fit our boys and young men in the mining, manufacturing, and agricultural districts to become, in a true though not ambitious sense of the term, scientific and intelligent miners, mechanics, and farmers, you will have done more to put down strikes and labor riots than an army could; and more to solve the labor problem than will be done by the babel-builders of a hundred labor-reform conventions. professor luther t. townsend, of boston university: your plan for the promotion of christian culture in art, science, and literature, among the masses of the american people, strikes me as one of the grandest conceptions of the nineteenth century. dr. a. a. hodge, of princeton: the scheme is a grand one, and only needs to insure its success that efficient administration which has so eminently characterized all your enterprises. history and nature are the spheres in which god exercises his perfections, through which they are manifested to us. all human knowledge should be comprehended in the one system of which christ is the center, and illuminated with the light of revelation. dr. arthur gilman: your fears of "superficiality" do not trouble me. for your course will probably aim rather to direct the mind toward the way in which you wish it to develop, than store it with the details of knowledge. you wish to awaken, rather than cultivate. dr. howard crosby, of new york: your scheme to induce business men and others to pursue useful courses of reading in science and history is worthy of all commendation. while we cannot expect to make such persons scientists or scholars, we may expect them to become appreciative of things scientific or scholarly, and to be able to discriminate between the false and the true. he added some valuable suggestions regarding the kind of books that should be chosen; and the hope that the course, instead of becoming a substitute for the college, might lead to the college. dr. charles f. deems, of new york, gave his heartiest approval of the plan, and stated that he was holding in his own church classes in all the departments named, and would enroll them under the chautauqua system, with examinations and the diploma at the completion of the course. dr. william f. warren, president of boston university, wrote a letter in which he said: you are aiming to secure that without which every system of education is weak, and with which any is strong; namely, interested personal home work the year round. and you seem to carry these home students to the point where they can go alone, if they cannot have the help of the schools. one of these letters must be given in full, notwithstanding its length. dr. vincent introduced it with an account of his interview with its author, the venerable william cullen bryant, the oldest of his group--the american poets of the mid-century. i wrote him afterward a long letter [said dr. vincent], defining the scheme more fully. while in london a few weeks ago i received from him the following letter, written with his own hand,--written but a few weeks before his death. this letter has never been read in public and has never been in print. new york, may , . my dear sir, i cannot be present at the meeting called to organize the chautauqua literary and scientific circle, but i am glad that such a movement is on foot, and wish it the fullest success. there is an attempt to make science, or a knowledge of the laws of the material universe, an ally of the school which denies a separate spiritual existence and a future life; in short, to borrow of science weapons to be used against christianity. the friends of religion, therefore, confident that one truth never contradicts another, are doing wisely when they seek to accustom the people at large to think and to weigh evidence as well as to believe. by giving a portion of their time to a vigorous training of the intellect, and a study of the best books, men gain the power to deal satisfactorily with questions with which the mind might otherwise have become bewildered. it is true that there is no branch of human knowledge so important as that which teaches the duties that we owe to god and to each other, and that there is no law of the universe, sublime and wonderful as it may be, so worthy of being made fully known as the law of love, which makes him who obeys it a blessing to his species, and the universal observance of which would put an end to a large proportion of the evils which affect mankind. yet is a knowledge of the results of science, and such of its processes as lie most open to the popular mind, important for the purpose of showing the different spheres occupied by science and religion, and preventing the inquirer from mistaking their divergence from each other for opposition. i perceive this important advantage in the proposed organization, namely, that those who engage in it will mutually encourage each other. it will give the members a common pursuit, which always begets a feeling of brotherhood; they will have a common topic of conversation and discussion, and the consequence will be, that many who, if they stood alone, might soon grow weary of the studies which are recommended to them, will be incited to perseverance by the interest which they see others taking in them. it may happen in rare instances that a person of eminent mental endowments, which otherwise might have remained uncultivated and unknown, will be stimulated in this manner to diligence, and put forth unexpected powers, and, passing rapidly beyond the rest, become greatly distinguished, and take a place among the luminaries of the age. i shall be interested to watch, during the little space of life that may yet remain to me, the progress and results of the plan which has drawn from me this letter. i am, sir, very truly yours, w. c. bryant. the distinguished writer of this letter died only a month and four days after writing it, on june , , as the result of a sunstroke while he was making an address at the unveiling of a statue in the central park. he was in the eighty-fifth year of his age. after some short addresses by men on the platform, bishop foster, professor wilkinson, dr. strong, and others, dr. vincent announced as the first book of the course, green's _short history of the english people_, and invited all desirous of joining the c. l. s. c. to write their names and addresses upon slips of paper and hand them to anyone on the platform. it might have been supposed that a circular would be ready containing a statement of the course for the first year, regulations and requirements of the organization, the fee of membership, etc.; but in the enthusiasm of the time those desirable requisites had been forgotten. everybody looked around for a slip of paper. visiting cards were made useful, margins were torn off newspapers, and there was an overwhelming rush toward the platform to join the new circle. on that afternoon seven hundred names were received and the number grew hourly until the close of the assembly. nearly all the regular year-by-year visitors to chautauqua became members of this "pioneer class," as it was afterwards named; and to this day its fellowship, after forty-two years, still continues one of the largest at its annual gatherings in pioneer hall, the building which it erected as its home. the book-store was crowded with applicants for green's history, and the few copies on hand, not more than half a dozen, were instantaneously disposed of. an order was telegraphed to the harper brothers in new york for fifty copies, on the next morning for fifty more, then for another hundred, day after day the demand increasing. the harpers were astounded at the repeated calls, and telegraphed for particulars as to the reason why everybody at an almost unknown place called chautauqua had gone wild in demand for this book. their stock on hand was exhausted long before the assembly was ended, and most of the members of this "class of " were compelled to wait a month or more for their books. public libraries were by no means numerous in those days while andrew carnegie was making the millions to be spent later in establishing them, but wherever they were, green's short history was drawn out, and a waiting list made for it, to the amazement of librarians, who vainly proposed the substitution of other standard english histories. whoever could buy, borrow, or beg a copy of green, rejoiced--we hope that no chautauquan, in his hunger for literature, _stole_ one, but we are not sure. people otherwise honest have been known to retain borrowed umbrellas and books. in the class of eight thousand four hundred names were enrolled, for the members brought home from chautauqua the good news, and families, neighbors, and friends everywhere sent in their applications. later we shall learn what proportion of these followed the course through the four years and marched under the arches to their recognition as graduates. an addition had been made to the grounds on the west, and here dr. vincent chose a square shaded by abundant beech-trees, as the center and home of the c. l. s. c. he named it st. paul's grove, choosing the apostle who represented the combination of the fervent heart and the cultured mind, an ideal for all chautauquans. besides dr. vincent's address at this time, another was given by governor a. h. colquitt of georgia, president of the international sunday school convention. the dedicatory prayer was offered by bishop foster and an appropriate hymn written by dr. hyde of denver was sung by professor sherwin and his choir. st. paul's grove, and its pillared temple soon to rise, will appear often in our story as one of the sacred spots at chautauqua. we must not overlook the daily program during this epoch-making season of . there were the daily classes studying greek and hebrew under drs. strong and vail. there was a class in microscopy, with the misses lattimore; there was the normal class with a full number of students ending with the successful examination of more than one hundred and forty new members of the normal alumni association. the annual reunion of the normal alumni was celebrated with the usual banners, procession, address, the illuminated fleet and fireworks. the lecture platform of stood at as high a level as ever. if any one speaker bore off the honors of that year, it was bishop randolph s. foster of the methodist episcopal church, whose lectures on "beyond the grave" drew the largest audiences and aroused the deepest interest. they were afterward published in a volume which attracted wide attention, and brought some criticism from preachers of the conservative school. there were even some who talked of an impeachment and trial, but they did not venture to bring the greatest thinker and theologian in their church to the bar. other lecturers who made their mark were dr. robert m. hatfield of chicago, president charles h. fowler, dr. (soon after bishop) john f. hurst, dr. john lord, the historian-lecturer, dr. joseph cook, professor william north rice, dr. t. dewitt talmage, with his entertaining lecture on "big blunders," and dr. charles f. deems on "the superstitions of science." one remarkable meeting was held on the afternoon of the opening day, tuesday, august th. in the pavilion four men gave in turn the distinctive doctrines and usages of their several churches. these were the rev. mr. seymour, baptist, rev. mr. williston, congregationalist, rev. dr. hatfield, methodist, and rev. j. a. worden, presbyterian. without attempt at controversy or criticism each speaker named the principles for which his branch of the holy catholic church stood. there was the most cordial feeling. each listener believed as strongly as before in his own denomination, but many felt a greater respect for the other branches of the true vine. at the close all the congregation sang together, blest be the tie that binds our hearts in christian love. a new building took its place upon the grounds, and speedily became the center of many activities. it was called "the children's temple," built through the generous gift of president lewis miller, in the general plan of his sunday school hall at akron, ohio, a central assembly room with folding doors opening or closing a number of classrooms around it. for many years it was the home of the children's class, under rev. b. t. vincent and frank beard, which grew to an attendance of three hundred daily. they wore badges of membership, passed examinations upon a systematic course, and received diplomas. soon an intermediate department became necessary for those who had completed the children's course, and this also grew into a large body of members and graduates. [illustration: the chautauqua book-store] a host of events on this great chautauqua season of must be omitted from this too long chapter in our story. chapter ix chautauqua all the year during those early years the chautauqua sessions were strenuous weeks to both miller and vincent. mr. miller brought to chautauqua for a number of seasons his normal class of young people from the akron sunday school, requiring them to attend the chautauqua normal class and to take its examination. he acted also as superintendent of the assembly sunday school, which was like organizing a new school of fifteen hundred members every sunday, on account of the constant coming and going of students and teachers. but mr. miller's time and thoughts were so constantly taken up with secular details, leasing lots, cutting down trees, and setting up tents, settling disputes with lot holders and ticket holders, and a thousand and one business matters great and small--especially after successive purchases had more than doubled the territory of the assembly,--that he was able to take part in but few of its exercises. one out of many perplexing situations may be taken as a specimen. in one purchase was included a small tract on the lake-shore outside the original camp ground, where some families from a distance had purchased holdings and built small cottages, being independent both of the camp-meeting and the assembly. some members of this colony claimed the right of way to go in and out of the assembly at all times, sundays as well as week-days, to attend lectures and classes without purchasing tickets. others in the older parts of the ground under camp-meeting leases declared themselves beyond the jurisdiction of new rules made by the assembly trustees. a strong party appeared demanding that the lot owners as a body should elect the trustees,--which meant that the future of a great and growing educational institution should be shaped not by a carefully selected board under the guidance of two idealists,--one of whom was at the same time a practical businessman, a rare combination,--but by a gathering of lot-holders, not all of them intelligent, and the majority people who were keeping boarding-houses and were more eager for dollars than for culture. i remember a conversation with the proprietor of one of the largest boarding-houses who urged that the grounds be left open, with no gate-fees or tickets; but instead a ticket-booth at the entrance to each lecture-hall, so that people would be required to pay only for such lectures and entertainments as they chose to attend! i could name some assemblies calling themselves chautauquas, where this policy was pursued; and almost invariably one season or at most two seasons terminated their history. added to these and other perplexities was the ever-present question of finance. the rapid growth of the movement caused a requirement of funds far beyond the revenue of the association. its income came mainly from the gate-fees, to which was added a small tax upon each lot, and the concessions to store-keepers; for the prices obtained by the leasing of new lots must be held as a sinking fund to pay off the mortgages incurred in their purchase. there came also an imperative demand for a water-supply through an aqueduct, a sewer-system, and other sanitary arrangements made absolutely necessary by the increase of population. in those years mr. miller's purse was constantly opened to meet pressing needs, and his credit enabled the trustees to obtain loans and mortgages. but despite his multitudinous cares and burdens, no one ever saw mr. miller harassed or nervous. he was always unruffled, always pleasant, even smiling under the most trying conditions. his head was always clear, his insight into the needs not only of the time but of the future also was always sure, and his spinal column was strong enough to stand firm against the heaviest pressure. he knew instinctively when it was wise to conciliate, and when it was essential to be positive. the present generation of chautauquans can never realize how great is their debt of gratitude to lewis miller. the inventor and manufacturer of harvesting machines at akron and canton, ohio, busy at his desk for eleven months, found the swiss cottage beside chautauqua lake by no means a place of rest during his brief vacation. nor were the burdens upon the other founder lighter than those of his associate. the two men talked and corresponded during the year regarding the coming program, but the selection, engagement, and arrangement of the speakers was mainly dr. vincent's part. at the same hour, often half a dozen meetings would be held, and care must be taken not to have them in conflict in their location and their speakers. changes in the program must often be made suddenly after a telegram from some lecturer that he could not arrive on the morrow. new features must be introduced as the demand and the opportunity arose,--the baptists, or methodists, or congregationalists, or disciples desired a meeting, for which an hour and a place must be found. the only one who kept the list of the diversified assemblages was dr. vincent. he had no secretary in those days to sit at a desk in an office and represent the superintendent of instruction. his tent at the foot of the grounds was a stage whereon entrances and exits were constant. moreover, the audience was apt to measure the importance of a lecture by the presence of dr. vincent as presiding officer or a substitute in his place introducing the speaker. the vincent temperament was less even and placid than the miller; and the assembly of those early years generally closed with its superintendent in a worn-out physical condition. and it must not be forgotten that dr. vincent like his associate founder was a busy working man all the year. he was in charge of the sunday school work in a great church, supervising sunday schools in buenos ayres, and kiu-kiang, and calcutta, as well as in bangor and seattle. at his desk in new york and plainfield he was the editor of nine periodicals, aided by a small number of assistants. several months of every year were spent in a visitation of methodist conference setting forth the work, and stirring up a greater interest in it. he was lecturing and preaching and taking part in conventions and institutes everywhere in the land. chautauqua was only one of the many activities occupying his mind, his heart, and his time. the assembly of , with the inauguration of the c. l. s. c., had been especially exhausting to dr. vincent. imagine, if you can, his feelings when he found his desks in the office and the home piled high with letters concerning the new movement for chautauqua readings all the year. he was simply overwhelmed by the demands, for everybody must have an immediate answer. walking out one day, he met one of the teachers of the high school, told her of his difficulties, and asked her if she could suggest anyone who might relieve him. she thought a moment, and then said: "i think i know a girl of unusual ability who can help you--miss kate kimball, who was graduated from the high school last june, and i will send her to you." she came, a tall young lady, only eighteen years old, with a pair of brown eyes peculiarly bright, and a manner retiring though self-possessed. dr. vincent mentioned some of the help that he required, but looked doubtfully at her, and said, "i am afraid that you are too young to undertake this work." she answered, "i would like to try it; but if you find that i am not equal to it, i will not be offended to have it given to some other person. let me see if i can help you even a little." that was the introduction of miss kate fisher kimball to the work and care of the chautauqua literary and scientific circle, of which she was the executive secretary until her death in . she was born in , at orange, new jersey, her father, dr. horace f. kimball, being a dentist with office in new york. young as she was, she at once showed rare abilities in administration. under her vigorous and wise efforts, the c. l. s. c. was soon reduced to a system, the members were classified, the course was made orderly, circulars of various sorts were prepared and sent out to answer as many kinds of questions, and the calls from all over the nation, almost all over the world were met. kate kimball had a wonderful memory, as well as a systematic mind. dr. vincent would tell her in one sentence the answer to be sent to a letter, and twenty sentences in succession for twenty letters. she made no note, but remembered each one; would write to each correspondent a letter framed as it should be, with a clear statement, of just the right length, never getting the wrong answer on her pen. and if six months afterward, or six years, there came a letter requiring the same answer, she did not need to ask for information, but could send the right reply without consulting the letter-file. thousands of correspondents who may never have met her will remember that signature, "k. f. kimball," for they have been strengthened and inspired by letters signed with it. i have heard more than one person say, "i want to go to chautauqua, if it is only to become acquainted with k. f. kimball." let me transcribe a few sentences written by mr. frank chapin bray, who as editor of _the chautauquan magazine_, was for years in close relation with miss kimball. many will always think of her as a kind of chautauqua mother superior. the details of the work of an executive secretary are not transcribable for they were multifarious drudgeries year after year which defy analysis. during thirty-five years she made them the means of transmitting a great idea as a dynamic force vital to hundreds of thousands of men and women the world around. next to the originating genius of john h. vincent, the influence which made the chautauqua home reading course one of the mightiest educational forces of the nineteenth century was the tireless energy and the executive ability of kate f. kimball. about she was suddenly taken with an illness, not deemed serious at the time, but later found to have been a slight paralytic shock. she was given a year's vacation from office work and spent most of it in england and on the continent. some of her friends think that if she had absolutely abstained from work, she might have recovered her health; but while in england she visited nearly all its great cathedrals, and wrote a series of articles for _the chautauquan_ on "an english cathedral journey," afterward embodied in one of the best of the non-technical books on that subject. she returned to her desk, but not in her former vigor. year by year her powers of thought and action declined, and she died june , , in the fifty-seventh year of her age, leaving after her not only a precious memory but an abiding influence; for the plans initiated by her adaptive mind are still those effective in the shaping of the chautauqua circle. [illustration: hall of the christ] [illustration: entrance to the hall of philosophy] the course of reading for the first year was as follows: green's _short history of the english people_; with it the little hand-book by dr. vincent--chautauqua text-book no. , _outline of english history_; an arrangement by periods, enabling the reader to arrange the events in order; chautauqua text-book no. , _outline of greek history_; professor mahaffy's _old greek life_; stopford brooke's _primer of english literature_; chautauqua text-book no. , _studies of the stars_; dr. h. w. warren's _recreations in astronomy_; j. dorman steele's _human psychology_; dr. j. f. hurst's, _outlines of bible history_, and _the word of god opened_, by rev. bradford k. pierce. this included no less than eleven books, although four of them were the small chautauqua textbooks, nos. , , , and . all that was definitely required of the members was that they should sign a statement that these books had been read; but through the year a series of sheets was sent to each enrolled member, containing questions for examination, under the title "outline memoranda," in order not to alarm the unschooled reader by the terror of an examination. moreover, the student was at liberty to search his books, consult any other works, and obtain assistance from all quarters in obtaining the answers to the questions. these questions were of two kinds, one requiring thought on the part of the reader, and not susceptible of answer at any given page of the book; such as: "name the five persons whom you consider the greatest in the history of england, and the reasons for your choice," "name what you regard as five of the most important events in english history," etc. there were some other questions, of which the answer might or might not be found in any books of the books of the course, but questions to make the reader search and enquire; such as: "what did king john say when he signed magna charta?" "with what words did oliver cromwell dismiss the long parliament?" "what were the last words of admiral nelson?" these questions brought difficulty, not only to readers, but to school-teachers, pastors, and librarians, to whom they were propounded by puzzled students. at one time i was reading of a convention of librarians, where one of the subjects discussed was, how to satisfy the hordes of chautauquans everywhere, asking all sorts of curious questions. the veterans of that premier class of still remember the sheet of the outline memoranda prepared by dr. warren, on his book _recreations in astronomy_. there may have been a member or two who succeeded in answering them all, but their names do not appear on any record. not all those, who in an hour of enthusiasm under the spell of dr. vincent's address on that opening day, wrote their names as members of the c. l. s. c. persevered to the bitter end and won the diploma. of the enrolled in the first class, only were "recognized" as graduates in . some of the delinquents afterward took heart of grace, and finished with later classes. but even those who fell out by the way gained something, perhaps gained an enduring impulse toward good reading. we frequently received word of those who had dropped the c. l. s. c. in order to obtain a preparation for college. dr. edward everett hale used to tell of a man whom he met on a railway train, who made a remark leading the doctor to say, "you talk like a chautauquan--are you a member of the c. l. s. c.?" the man smiled and answered, "well, i don't know whether i am or not. my wife is: she read the whole course, and has her diploma framed. i read only one book, and then gave up. but any institution that can lead a man to read green's _short history of the english people_, has done considerable for that man!" as one by one the required books had been read by diligent members, there came urgent requests from many for the names of other books, on history, on sciences, and especially on the bible. dr. vincent and his staff were compelled to look for the best books on special courses, supplementing the required course. by degrees almost a hundred of these courses were arranged, and have been pursued by multitudes. the one who read the regular course through four years was to receive a diploma; if he answered the questions of very simple "outline memoranda," his diploma was to bear one seal. if he took the stiffer "outline memoranda" described above, his diploma was to receive an additional seal for each year's work. each special course was to have its own special seal. any member who read the bible through while pursuing the course, would have a gold crown seal upon his diploma. there were some elderly people who seemed to have nothing in the world to do, but to read special courses, fill out the memoranda, send for seals, and then demand another course on crete or kamchatka, or the ten lost tribes of israel, until miss kimball, her helpers, and her literary friends were kept on the jump to find books on these various subjects. hanging on the walls of c. l. s. c. classrooms at chautauqua are diplomas illuminated with a hundred seals or more, sent to the class headquarters as memorials of diligent readers who have passed away. the readers of these seal-courses become members of various "orders" of different rank. those whose diplomas show four seals belong to the "order of the white seal," those who have seven seals, to the "league of the round table," and if they have fourteen seals or more, the "guild of the seven seals." each of these societies holds its annual reunion at chautauqua, wears its own badge, and marches behind its own banner in the procession. the reference to seals brings us to another feature of chautauqua, and especially of the c. l. s. c., which attracted universal attention and led many thousands into the charmed circle,--those touches of poetry and sentiment, which no one but dr. vincent could have originated. there were the three mottoes of the c. l. s. c. always made prominent in its prospectus and announcements, "we study the word and the works of god"; "let us keep our heavenly father in the midst"; and "never be discouraged." the second of these sentences was spoken by the venerable hebraist, dr. stephen h. vail, as with tears upon his face he parted with dr. vincent, at the session of , a year before the announcement of the c. l. s. c. there was for each class a name. the first class to take a name was that of ' , established in . they were continually calling for class-meetings until dr. vincent in his announcements spoke of them as "those irrepressible eighty-fours!" whereupon they promptly adopted as their name, "the irrepressibles," and their example was followed by the other classes. the class of took the name, "the pioneers." classes are known as "the vincent class," "the lewis miller class"--others are named after shakespeare, tennyson, sidney lanier, etc. the class graduating in commemorated the discovery of america four hundred years before, by the name "columbia." then, too, each class has its own flower, which its members seek to wear on the great days of the c. l. s. c.; but only the pioneer class of proudly bears before it in procession a hatchet, and its members wear little hatchets as badges. dr. hale said that the reason why the pioneers carry hatchets is that "they axe the way!" each class has its own officers and trustees, and though all its members are never assembled, and can never meet each other, they maintain a strong bond of union through correspondence. there is the great silk banner of the chautauqua circle leading the procession on recognition day, followed by the classes from until the present, each class marching behind its banner. in the early days, until the chautauqua grounds became crowded, there was an annual "camp fire," all the members in a great circle standing around a great bonfire at night singing songs and listening to short speeches. these are only a few of the social influences which make the c. l. s. c. more than merely a list of readers. it is a brotherhood, a family bound together by a common interest. the opening day of the chautauqua readings is october first. on that day at noon, the members of the circle living at chautauqua and others in the adjacent towns meet at the miller bell tower on the point. as the clock sounds out the hour of twelve all present grasp a long rope connected with the bells and together pull it, over and over again, sounding forth the signal that the chautauqua year has begun. it is said that every true chautauquan the world over, from mayville to hong-kong, can hear the sound of that bell and at the summons open their books for the year's reading. in one of the earlier years we received at the office a letter from the wife of an army officer stationed among the indians, and far from any settlement. she wrote that she was a hundred and twenty-five miles from any other white woman, and felt keenly her loneliness. but on the day when her bundle of c. l. s. c. books arrived, she clasped it to her bosom and wept tears of joy over it, for she felt that she was no longer alone, but one in a great company who were reading the same books and thinking the same thoughts and enjoying one fellowship. in one of the early classes was a young lady who, soon after sending in her name, sailed for south africa to become a teacher in a girl's boarding-school. one day in the following june, when it was in the depth of winter in south africa,--for in south latitude our seasons are reversed; they have a saying at the cape "as hot as christmas"--she came to her classes arrayed in her very best apparel. the girls looked at her in surprise and asked "is this your birthday?" "no," she answered, "but it is the commencement day at chautauqua in america, and everybody dresses up on that day!" the thousands of readers in the chautauqua fellowship naturally arranged themselves in two classes. about half of them were reading by themselves, individuals, each by himself or herself,--mostly herself, for at least three-fourths of the members were women, and their average age was about thirty years. the other half were united in groups, "local circles," as they were called. some of these were community circles, people of one village or town, irrespective of church relations; other circles were connected with the churches. in those days before the christian endeavor society, the epworth league, and other nation-wide organizations had appropriated the interest of the young people, the chautauqua circle was the literary society in many churches. i recall the testimony of a methodist minister of those days, given to me when i met him at his conference in the middle west. when i was sent to my last church, i learned that there was a reading circle among its members, and i heard the news with some dismay, for in more than one place i had started a literary society and found that it was necessary for me to supply all the thought and labor to keep it in operation, to plan the course, to select people to write papers and persuade them to do it, to be ready to fill vacancies on the program. and as soon as i stopped supplying steam, the society was sure to come to a stand-still. but at this church i found a chautauqua circle that was taking care of itself. its programs were provided, the members were reading a regular course and making their reports; they presided in turn at the meetings, and i was not called upon to take any part unless i desired it. also in the prayer-meetings, i could soon recognize the members of the circle by a touch of intelligence in their testimonies. it is the opinion of the writer that if one could ascertain the history of the woman's clubs that now cover the country, and ascertain their origin, it would be found that nearly all of the older woman's clubs arose out of chautauqua circles whose members, after completing the prescribed course, took up civics or politics, or literature. it would be an interesting study to ascertain how far the general federation of women's clubs of america was an outgrowth of the chautauqua movement. chapter x the school of languages [illustration: congregational house] [illustration: fenton memorial, deaconess' house] the year marked an extension in more than one direction of chautauqua's plans and program. the season was lengthened to forty-three days, more than double the length of the earlier sessions. on july th began the classes in the chautauqua normal school of languages, held in a rough board-walled, white-washed building, which had formerly been used as a lodging-house, but was no longer needed since cottages had opened their doors to guests. this may be regarded as the formal opening of the chautauqua summer schools, although already classes had been held, some of them three years, others four years, in greek, hebrew, and kindergarten instruction. we will name the faculty of this year. greek was taught by a native of greece, dr. t. t. timayenis, of new york; latin by miss emma m. hall, of the detroit high school, afterward a missionary-teacher in rome, italy; prof. j. h. worman, of brooklyn, n. y., taught german, never speaking one word of english in his classes, although a fluent speaker and author in english. prof. a. lalande was the teacher of the french language; dr. stephen m. vail continued his classes in hebrew, and dr. james strong in greek; prof. bernhard maimon of chicago, taught oriental languages; and prof. a. s. cook, then of johns hopkins, but soon afterward of yale, conducted a class in the study of anglo-saxon language and literature. these studies were pursued from a fortnight before the formal opening of the assembly until its close, making courses of six weeks, carried on in an intensive manner. each professor pushed his department as though it were the only one in the school, and his students could scarcely find time to rest themselves by rowing on the lake or walking in the woods with their classmates. allied to the school of languages was the teachers' retreat, opening at the same time but closing just before the assembly proper. this was outside the realm of sunday school instruction, being intended for secular teachers and presenting the principles and best methods of education. one of its leaders was prof. j. w. dickinson, secretary of the massachusetts state board of education, an enthusiast as well as a master. he had at his command a fund of witticisms and stories, always in the direct line of his teaching, which added not a little to the interest of his lectures. i was with him at the table for a fortnight, and his juicy talk made even a tough steak enjoyable. associated with dr. dickinson were prof. william f. phelps of minnesota, dr. joseph alden of the state normal school, albany, n. y., and dr. john hancock, president of the national teachers' association. in the following year, , the school of languages and teachers' retreat were united, and the summer school program was again enlarged. year by year new departments were added, until chautauqua became a summer university, and such it continues to this day, offering more than two hundred courses, taught by nearly one hundred and fifty instructors. perhaps the most popular courses have always been those in physical culture, pursued by teachers in public and private schools, enabled by chautauqua to make their work in their home schools more efficient and extensive. one might spend weeks at chautauqua, attending the lectures and concerts in the amphitheater and the hall, and enjoying the bathing and boating opportunities of the lake, yet never realizing that on college hill, and down at the gymnasium, are nearly five thousand young men and young women diligently seeking the higher education. a third sideline during this season of was the foreign mission institute, held by missionary leaders of the congregational, methodist, presbyterian, and baptist organizations, and addressed by missionaries at home from many lands. chautauqua was a pioneer in bringing together representatives of different churches for conference upon their work of winning the world to christ. this series of missionary councils has been continued without the omission of a year through all the history of chautauqua since . the sixth chautauqua assembly opened on its regular evening, the first tuesday in august, . the ravine which had been the seat of the pavilion and birthplace of the c. l. s. c. had been transformed into a great auditorium of permanent materials and fairly comfortable seats for five thousand people. it was a great advance upon any of the earlier meeting places, and made it no longer necessary to carry one's umbrella to the lectures. but a heavy rain on the extensive roof would make even the largest-lunged orator inaudible, and the many wooden pillars supporting the roof had a fashion of getting themselves between the speaker and the hearers. notwithstanding these minor drawbacks, it proved to be one of the best audience-halls in the land for large assemblies, for its acoustic properties were almost perfect. no speaker ever heard his words flung back to him by an echo, and the orator who knew how to use his voice could be heard almost equally well in every corner of the building. when dr. buckley stood for the first time upon its platform, and looked at its radiating and ascending seats, he said to dr. vincent, "this is a genuine _amphitheater_." the name was adopted, and the amphitheater became the meeting place for all the popular lectures and the great sunday services. many were the distinguished speakers, men and women, who stood upon its platform, and as many singers whose voices enraptured throngs. at a popular concert almost as many seemed to be standing, crowded under the eaves, as were seated beneath the roof. the old amphitheater stood until . in that year the building of the massey memorial organ made some changes necessary. the old building was taken down, and a new amphitheater arose in its place, having above it a trussed roof and supported from the sides, and no pillars obstructing the view. it has been said that the chautauqua amphitheater will seat ten thousand people, but a careful computation shows that fifty-five hundred, or at the utmost fifty-six hundred are its limit upon the benches, without chairs in the aisles. but another thousand, or even fifteen hundred may sometimes be seen standing back of its seats at a popular lecture or concert. in the season of , one of the leading speakers was an englishman, the rev. w. o. simpson of the wesleyan church, who had been for some years a missionary in india. his graphic pictures of village life in that land were a revelation, for kipling and his followers had not yet thrown the light of their genius upon the great peninsula and its people. mr. simpson was over six feet in height and large in every way, in voice as well as in girth. we all hoped to meet him yet many years at chautauqua, for he seemed to be abounding in health. but a few months later we learned of his sudden death. in those years it was the chautauqua custom to hold a memorial service for men prominent in the class-room or on the platform, and it fell to my lot to speak in upon the rev. w. o. simpson. i sent to england for printed matter relating to his life, and among the appreciative articles found one story which is worthy of remembrance. when mr. simpson was a student of theology at the wesleyan theological school, he chanced one day to read the announcement of a lecture upon the bible, and went to hear it. to his amazement he found himself at an infidel meeting, listening to a virulent attack upon the holy scriptures. in the middle of his lecture, the speaker said: there are undoubtedly good things in the bible, but anyone who is familiar with the ancient writers of greece, and especially those of india, knows well, if he would tell the truth, that all the good things in the bible were stolen from earlier scholars and sages, and were originally better spoken or written than by the so-called authors of the bible, who took them at second-hand. if anybody here is prepared to deny that statement, let him stand up and say so! instantly this young student of theology stood up, six feet high, and at that time in his life very slim in his figure. that he might be seen readily he stood on the seat, and a fellow-student said that he loomed up apparently ten feet high. he held a little red-covered book, and stretching his long arm toward the speaker, said something like this: i hold in my hand a copy of the new testament, and i wish to say that in this little book, only a quarter of the bible, you will find a clearer light on man's nature, and character, and destiny than may be read in all the ancient books of the world taken together. he paused, seized the little volume with both hands, tore it in two parts, flung one part down to the floor, and still holding the rest of it, went on: i have thrown aside one-half of this book, but this half contains the four gospels of our lord, which will tell more what man may be here and will be hereafter than can be found in all the books of ancient rome, or greece, or chaldea, or india, or china. then he tore out three leaves from the fragment, flung all the rest on the floor, and fluttering the torn pages, said: these six pages contain christ's sermon on the mount, setting forth a higher standard of righteousness, a clearer view of god, and a better knowledge of man's nature than all the other ancient books on earth. that is my answer to the speaker! and leaving the torn book on the floor, he walked out of the room. other speakers in the new amphitheater in the summer of were dr. henry w. warren, in the next year a bishop; frank beard, with his caricatures and stories; dr. c. h. fowler, dr. joseph cook, bishop foster, dr. alexander a. hodge, the princeton theologian, dr. john lord, the historian, hon. j. w. wendling of kentucky, who brought brilliant oratory to the service of christianity in an eloquent lecture on "the man of galilee"; prof. j. w. churchill, one of the finest readers of his time; dr. george dana boardman of philadelphia; and dr. vincent himself, always greeted by the largest audiences. let us say, once for all, that dr. buckley was a perennial visitor, with new lectures every year, and his ever-popular answers to the question-drawer. if there was a problem which he could not solve, he could always turn the tables on the questioner with a story or a retort. one event of not to be passed over was the dedication of the hall of philosophy in st. paul's grove. dr. vincent suggested the plan of the building, to be set apart for the uses of the c. l. s. c. and the interests of general culture. as everybody who has been to chautauqua knows, it was in the form of a greek temple, an open building surrounded by plain columns, which may have resembled marble, but were made of wood. the dedication was held on august th, and addresses were given by dr. vincent, rev. w. o. simpson, and dr. ellinwood. there are thousands of chautauquans, some of them dwelling in distant lands, who are ready to declare that in all the week, the most precious hour was that of the five o'clock vesper service on sunday afternoon, when the long rays of the setting sun fell upon the assemblage, as they sang "day is dying in the west," and they united in that prayer of thomas à kempis, beginning, "in all things, o my soul, thou shalt rest in the lord always, for he is the everlasting rest of the saints." in the fall and winter of this writer was the traveling companion of bishop vincent in europe. every sunday afternoon at five o'clock, whether on the atlantic, or in london, lucerne, florence, or naples, we brought out our copies of the vesper service and read it together, feeling that in spirit we were within the columns of that hall in the grove. this year, , the second year of the c. l. s. c., brought to its founder a problem which threatened the ruin of the circle, but in its happy solution proved to be a powerful element in its success. this was to be the roman year of the course, and in the original conception the pioneer class of would take up roman history, while the new class of would begin as its predecessor had begun, with english history. if this plan had been carried out, as announced in the early circulars for that year's study, then in every church and community two classes must be organized and conducted with different readings. another year would require three circles, and still another four circles. could members and leaders be found for four separate clubs in one locality? would not the circle break up into fragments from the weight of the machinery needed to keep the wheel in motion? just then came the suggestion--made by president lewis miller, as dr. vincent told me at the time--that _both_ the classes should read the books together, making the same course the second year for the pioneers, and the first year's reading of "the vincents," as the members of ' named themselves. in a college there is a progression of studies, for one science must follow another; but in the chautauqua circle, it makes no difference whether the reader begins with the history of greece or of rome, or of england, or of america. new members can enter any year and read with those already reading. the circle is a railroad train on a track with four stations. you can board the train in england, america, or greece or rome, and when you have gone the round and reached the station where you began, you have completed the course and receive your certificate ornamented with all the seals that you have won by additional reading and study. the present four-year cycle of the c. l. s. c. consists of the english, american, classical, and modern european years. [illustration: baptist headquarters and mission house] [illustration: presbyterian headquarters and mission house] one more event of must not be forgotten. the park of palestine had fallen into decrepitude. some of its mountains had sunk down, and the course of the river jordan had become clogged up, so there was danger of a lake at a spot where none was on the map, and of a dry bed below, long after the israelites had finished their crossing. moreover, some mischievous boys had mixed up its geography by moving a few of the cities. bethel was found where kirjath-jearim should be; joppa had been swept by the ice in the breaking up of winter into the mediterranean sea, and megiddo was missing. the task of reconstructing the park was given to dr. w. h. perrine of michigan, a scholar and an artist, who had traveled in the holy land, had painted a panorama of it, and had constructed a model in plaster. he rebuilt the park from more permanent materials, and succeeded in making it more accurate in some details, as well as more presentable in appearance. but man-made mountains are by no means "the ever-lasting hills," and the park of palestine needs to be made over at least once in ten years if it is to be kept worthy of chautauqua. chapter xi hotels, headquarters, and hand-shaking ( ) the seventh session of the assembly opened in with another addition to the chautauqua territory. fifty acres along the lake shore had been acquired, and the assembly-ground was now three times as large as that of the old fair point camp meeting. this season saw also the foundation laid for a large hotel. it is worthy of record that the hotel athenæum was built not by the assembly board, but by a stock company of people friendly to the movement and willing to risk considerable capital in its establishment. more than one promising assembly had already been wrecked and many more were destined to bankruptcy by building large hotels before they were assured of guests to fill them. it must be kept in mind that everywhere the chautauqua constituency was not, and is not now, the wealthy class who frequent summer hotels and are willing to pay high prices for their entertainment. a chautauqua assembly, whether in the east or the west, is mainly composed of people possessing only moderate means, but eager for intellectual culture. whenever a chautauqua has been established in connection with the conventional summer hotel, either it has become bankrupt from lack of patronage, or the hotel has swallowed up the assembly. the hotel athenæum at chautauqua was not the property of the assembly, and might have failed--as many, perhaps most, of the summer hotels at watering-places have failed once or more than once in their history--without endangering the assembly itself. the men who built the athenæum, led by lewis miller and his business partners, risked their money, and might have lost it, for there were seasons when it paid no dividends to the stockholders, and other seasons when the profits were small. yet this hotel drew by degrees an increasing number of visitors who were able and willing to enjoy its advantages over those of the earlier cottage boarding houses, and it led to better accommodations and a more liberal table in the cottages, until now the hotel athenæum is only one of a number of really good houses of entertainment at chautauqua. it is given prominence in our story because it was first in its field. by the way, the name "hotel athenæum" was given by dr. vincent, who liked to impart a classical tone to buildings in an educational institution. the building was begun in and opened in the following year, though even then not fully completed. it occupied the site of a three-story edifice bearing the high-sounding name "palace hotel," a structure of tent-cloth over a wooden frame, divided by muslin partitions, and three stories in height. when rooms for the ever-increasing multitudes at chautauqua were few, the palace hotel was a blessing to many visitors. some distinguished men slept in those tented rooms, and inasmuch as a sheet partition is not entirely sound-proof, their snores at night could be heard almost as far as their speeches by day. some there were in the early eighties who shook their heads as the walls of the new hotel rose, and dreaded the tide of worldliness which would follow; but the hotel athenæum has become a genuine helper to the chautauqua spirit, for its great parlor has opened its doors to many receptions, and the witty after-dinner speeches at banquets in its dining-hall would fill more than one volume. another building which deserves mention is the congregational house, opened in ; the first church headquarters established at chautauqua. we have seen how the denominations were recognized from the earliest years, and meeting places provided for their prayer meetings and conferences. the need was felt by a number of the larger churches of a place where their members could find a welcome on arrival, could form an acquaintance with fellow-members, could meet each other in social gatherings and prayer meetings, and could promote the fraternal spirit. the example of the congregationalists was soon followed. the presbyterian headquarters, aided by a liberal donation of mr. elliott f. shepard of new york, was the earliest brick building on the ground, solid and substantial, befitting the church which it represented. after a few years its size was doubled to make a mission house, where missionaries of that church, home and foreign, could enjoy a vacation at chautauqua. the methodist house is one of the largest, for its chapel is the home of the community church at chautauqua through the entire year, the church home of the resident population of every denomination. the disciples of christ, or christian church, purchased a large boarding-house, built before it a pillared porch, giving it a noble frontage and furnishing rooms for guests in the upper stories. the united presbyterians built a chapel, serving also as a social room. the protestant episcopalians also erected a chapel consecrated to worship, but later established also a church home. the unitarians purchased and improved a property fronting on st. paul's grove. the baptists built a large headquarters on clark avenue, the street extending from the amphitheater to the hall of philosophy, and the lutherans obtained a large building near it. in all these denominational houses there is an absence of clannish feeling. no church uses its headquarters as a propaganda of its peculiar views; and in the receptions fellow christians of every branch are always welcome. when some eminent man comes to chautauqua, his church holds a reception in his honor, and everybody who would like to take his hand flocks to the meeting at his church headquarters. speaking of receptions, i must tell of one wherein i was supposed to take a leading part, but found myself left in the rear. dr. vincent announced that at four o'clock, in the hall of philosophy, a reception would be given to dr. edward everett hale. he said to me: now, dr. hurlbut, i place this reception in your hands to manage. dr. hale comes from boston and is accustomed to the formalities of the best society. be sure to have this reception held in the proper manner. let the doctor stand in front of the platform, have ushers ready to introduce the people, and let there be no indiscriminate handshaking. i promised to see that everything should be done decently and in order, and a few minutes before the hour appointed, walked over to the hall. i was amazed to see a crowd of people, all pressing toward the center, where the tall form of dr. hale loomed above the throng, shaking hands apparently in every direction. i rushed upon the scene and vainly endeavored to bring about some semblance of order. the reception was a tumultuous, almost a rough-and-tumble, affair, everybody reaching out for the guest in his own way. it came about in this manner, as i learned. everybody at chautauqua knows that the bell invariably rings five minutes before the hour, giving notice that the exercises may begin promptly on the stroke of the clock. but dr. hale did not know this, and when the five-minute bell rang, he rose and said: "the time for the meeting has come, but nobody seems to be in charge. let us begin the reception ourselves without waiting." he stood up, and began shaking hands right and left, without waiting for introduction, and when the four o'clock bell sounded, the reception was in full sweep, everybody crowding around at once and grasping his hand. before the first throng had satisfied its desires, another stream poured in and the general tumult continued until the five o'clock hour compelled an adjournment, the hall being required for another meeting. at the close, dr. hale remarked to me, "i especially like the informality of such gatherings here at chautauqua. this has been one of the most satisfactory receptions that i have ever attended!" chautauqua was already coming to the front as a convention-city. its central location between new york and chicago, with ready transportation north and south, its amphitheater for great meetings, with numerous halls and tents for smaller gatherings and committees, the constant improvement in its lodging and commissary departments, its attractive program of lectures and entertainments, and not the least, its romantic out-of-door life, began to draw to the ground different organizations. the woman's christian temperance union, led by frances e. willard, returned to its birthplace for its sixth annual convention, and the national educational association brought members from every state, presided over by dr. j. ormond wilson. this association embraced educators of widely diverging views, and some entertaining scraps occurred in its discussions. for example, the kindergarten instruction at chautauqua was under the direction of madame kraus-boelte, and her husband, a learned but rather obstinate german, professor kraus. there was an americanized kindergarten, whose representative came, hired a cottage, and hung out her sign, but much to her displeasure was not allowed to conduct classes. it would never answer to let anybody hold classes unauthorized by the management, for who could tell what educational heresies might enter through the gate? but this aggressive lady paid her fee, joined the n. e. a., and in the kindergarten section proceeded to exploit her "improvements" upon the froebel system. this aroused the ire of professor kraus, and in vigorous language he interrupted her address, declaring, at first in english, then half in german as his anger rose: "dat iss not kindergarten! dere is but one kindergarten! you can call dat whatever you please, but not kindergarten! you can call it joss-house, if you choose, but you must not say dat mix-up is a kindergarten!" the audience enjoyed the discussion all the more because of this scramble between opposing schools. [illustration: methodist headquarters] [illustration: disciples (christian church) headquarters] there was another, and more dignified, controversy on the chautauqua platform in . on its program was the honored name of washington gladden, of columbus, ohio, to speak upon the standard oil company and its misdeeds. a friend of dr. vincent, who was an officer of the standard oil, said that it would only be fair to hear the other side, and proposed mr. george gunton of new york as a speaker. so it came to pass that two able men spoke on opposite sides of the mooted question. each gave an address and afterward had an opportunity of answering the other's arguments. so far as i know, this was the first debate on public questions at chautauqua, and it was succeeded by many others. an effort is made to have the burning questions of the time discussed by representative speakers. some exceedingly radical utterances on capital and labor have been made on the chautauqua platform, but it must not be inferred, because the audience listened to them respectfully, or even applauded a particularly sharp sentence, that chautauqua was in accord with the speaker's sentiments. on the list of speakers at this season may be read the following, a few among many names: prof. j. h. gilmore of rochester university gave a series of brilliant lectures upon english literature. ram chandra bose of india gave several lectures, philosophic and popular. dr. sheldon jackson of alaska thrilled a great audience with an appeal for that outlying but unknown land of ours. schuyler colfax, vice-president of grant's first administration, gave a great lecture on "abraham lincoln." professor borden p. bowne of boston university made the deep things of philosophy plain even to unphilosophic listeners. other orators in the new amphitheater were dr. robert r. meredith of boston, dr. j. o. means of the american board of commissioners for foreign missions, and dr. w. w. keen of philadelphia. the fisk jubilee singers made their first visit this year; and with the northwestern band and the assembly chorus, already counted by the hundreds, under professors sherwin and case, made music one of the most popular features of the program. this year was also notable for the first appearance of the _chautauquan magazine_, containing a part of the required readings of the c. l. s. c. it was launched and made successful by the financial, business, and editorial ability of dr. flood, who ventured his capital boldly and won deserved success. the ever-welcome "pansy," mrs. g. r. alden, this season read a new story, published soon afterward. with mrs. alden in those early years was a serious small boy, ever at his mother's side, rarely entering into the sports of childhood. if we could have looked forward a quarter-century, we might have seen in him the coming professor raymond m. alden of the leland stanford faculty, one of the most eminent scholars and critics in the department of english literature, and an authority quoted in all lands where the english language is spoken or read. a visitor came to chautauqua at the session of , whose presence brought the place and the assembly into notice throughout the nation. general james a. garfield was at that time the candidate of his party for president of the united states. he came to chautauqua on saturday, august th, for a week-end rest in a strenuous campaign, expressing a wish not to be called upon for any public address or reception. he worshiped with the great congregation on sunday morning, his entrance with a group of his friends being received in respectful silence. in the afternoon he mentioned to dr. vincent that he had heard of palestine park and would like to visit it. as the lectures in the park were generally given by me, i was detailed to walk through the model and point out its localities. as we went out of dr. vincent's tent a small company was standing around, waiting for a sight of the candidate. they followed us, and as we walked on toward the park, people came flocking forth from every house and tent. by the time we reached the land of palestine, it was well-nigh covered with the crowds, extending from dan to beersheba. no former palestine lecture of mine had ever drawn together such a multitude! it became impossible to find the cities covered by the multitudes. but i was somewhat surprised to perceive that the general knew where at least the important localities belonged even though they were not visible. he pointed out half a dozen of the cities named in the bible, and gave their names without hesitation or suggestion. we desired to make a sort of pilgrimage through the land, but found an army obstructing our journey. on the next morning, as general garfield was about to leave, dr. vincent asked him, not to make a political speech, but to give in a few words his impressions of chautauqua. he consented, and standing upon a stump, in the presence of a hastily assembled gathering, gave a ten-minute address, of which the following is a part. you are struggling with one of the two great problems of civilization. the first one is a very old struggle: it is, how shall we get any leisure? that is the problem of every hammer stroke, of every blow that labor has struck since the foundation of the world. the fight for bread is the first great primal fight, and it is so absorbing a struggle that until one conquers it somewhat he can have no leisure whatever. so that we may divide the whole struggle of the human race into two chapters; first, the fight to get leisure; and then the second fight of civilization--what shall we do with our leisure when we get it? and i take it that chautauqua has assailed the second problem. now, leisure is a dreadfully bad thing unless it is well used. a man with a fortune ready made and with leisure on his hands, is likely to get sick of the world, sick of himself, tired of life, and become a useless, wasted man. what shall you do with your leisure? i understand chautauqua is trying to answer that question and to open out fields of thought, to open out energies, a largeness of mind, a culture in the better senses, with the varnish scratched off. we are getting over the process of painting our native woods and varnishing them. we are getting down to the real grain, and finding whatever is best in it and truest in it. and if chautauqua is helping garnish our people with the native stuff that is in them, rather than with the paint and varnish and gew-gaws of culture, they are doing well. as we looked upon that stately figure, the form of one born to command, and listened to that mellow, ringing voice, no one dreamed that within a year that frame would be laid low, that voice hushed, and that life fraught with such promise ended by an assassin's bullet! the assembly of came to its close on august th, after a session of thirty-eight days. although the c. l. s. c. had come to the foreground and held the center of the stage, the normal work and bible study had not been neglected. the teacher-training classes were now under the charge of dr. richard s. holmes and rev. j. l. hurlbut. the children's class was maintained with a daily attendance approaching three hundred, the lessons taught by rev. b. t. vincent and pictures drawn by frank beard; also mr. vincent conducted an intermediate class in bible study. in all these classes for older and younger students, more than two hundred and fifty passed the examination and were enrolled as graduates. on the last evening of the assembly, after the closing exercises, there was seen a weird, ghostly procession, in white raiment, emerging from the ark and parading solemnly through the grounds, pausing before the miller cottage and the vincent tent for a mournful, melancholy musical strain. this was the "ghost walk" of the guests in the ark. some eminent doctors of divinity and ph.d.'s were in that sheeted procession, led by professors sherwin and case, engineered, as such functions were apt to be, by frank and helen beard. the ghost walk grew into an annual march, until it was succeeded by a more elaborate performance, of which the story will be told later. chapter xii democracy and aristocracy at chautauqua ( ) the eighth session opened on thursday, july th, and continued forty-seven days to august d. a glance over the program shows that among the lecturers of that year was signor alessandro gavazzi, the founder of the free italian church, whose lectures, spiced with his quaint accent, and emphasized by expressive shoulders, head, glance of eye, held the interest of his auditors from the opening sentence to the end. no verbal report, however accurate, can portray the charm of this wonderful italian. professor w. d. mcclintock of the university of chicago, gave a course on literature, analytic, critical, and suggestive. dr. william hayes ward, dr. daniel a. goodsell, afterward a methodist bishop, professor charles f. richardson, dr. edward everett hale, dr. a. e. dunning, editor of _the congregationalist_; general o. o. howard, who told war stories in a simple, charming manner; dr. philip schaff, one of the most learned yet most simple-hearted scholars of the age; dr. a. a. willetts, with his many times repeated, yet always welcome lecture on "sunshine," were among the men whose voices filled the amphitheater during the season. the fisk jubilee singers were with us again and signor giuseppe vitale made the birds sing through his wonderful violin. the success of the c. l. s. c., which was widening its area every month, inspired dr. vincent to look for new fields to conquer. he established this year the c. y. f. r. u., initials standing for the chautauqua young folks reading union, which proposed to do for the boys and girls what the reading circle was accomplishing for men and women. but it was found after a few years of trial that the school-age seeks its own reading and is not responsive to direction in literature on a vast scale, for the c. y. f. r. u. was not successful in winning the young readers. another scheme launched this year met with the same fate;--the chautauqua school of theology. it was thought that many ministers who had not received a theological education would avail themselves of an opportunity to obtain it while in the pastorate. this was to be not a course of reading, but of close study, under qualified instruction in each department, with examinations, a diploma, and a degree. but it required more thorough study and much larger fees than a mere course of reading, and those who needed it most were often the poorest paid in their profession. it did not receive the support needful for its success, it had no endowment, and after an experiment extending through a number of years, it was reluctantly abandoned. some of us have believed that if the chautauqua correspondence school of theology could have found friends to give it even a moderate endowment, it might have supplied an education needed by a multitude of ministers. [illustration: unitarian headquarters] [illustration: episcopal chapel] the hotel athenæum was opened in and speedily filled with guests. it aided in bringing to chautauqua a new constituency and also spurred the cottage boarding-houses to improve their accommodations and their fare. from the beginning the waiters and other helpers at the hotel, and also in the cottages, have been mostly young people seeking to obtain higher education, and paying their way at chautauqua by service. i remember one morning finding a hebrew book on my breakfast table. one meets unaccustomed things at chautauqua, but i was quite sure the _menu_ was not in that language. i called the attention of the young man who brought in the breakfast to the book. he told me that he was studying hebrew with dr. harper, and from time to time we had some conversation concerning his college work. twenty years afterward i met a prominent methodist minister at a conference, who said to me, "don't you remember me, dr. hurlbut? i used to wait on your table at chautauqua and we talked together about hebrew." that minister was a member of several general conferences and some years ago was made one of the bishops in his church. mrs. ida b. cole, the executive secretary of the c. l. s. c., is responsible for the following: a woman once said, "chautauqua cured me of being a snob, for i found that my waitress was a senior in a college, the chambermaid had specialized in greek, the porter taught languages in a high school, and the bell-boy, to whom i had been giving nickel tips, was the son of a wealthy family in my own state who wanted a job to prove his prowess." there are a few, however, who do not take kindly to the democratic life of chautauqua. i was seated at one of the hotel tables with a well-known clergyman from england, whose sermons of a highly spiritual type are widely read in america; and i remarked: "perhaps it may interest you to know that all the waiters in this hotel are college-students." "what do you mean?" he said, "surely no college student would demean himself by such a servile occupation! but it may be a lark, just for fun." "no," i answered, "they are men who are earning money to enable them to go on with their college work, a common occurrence in summer hotels in america." said this minister, "well, i don't like it; and it would not be allowed in my country. no man after it could hold up his head in an english university or college. i don't enjoy being waited on by a man who considers himself my social equal!" other eminent englishmen did not agree with this clergyman. when i mentioned this incident a year later to principal fairbairn of oxford, he expressed his hearty sympathy with the democracy shown at chautauqua, and said that whatever might be the ideas of class-distinction in english colleges, they were unknown in scotland, where some of the most distinguished scholars rose from the humblest homes and regardless of their poverty were respected and honored in their colleges. dr. vincent, ever fertile in sentimental touches, added two features to the usages of the c. l. s. c. one was the "camp fire." in an open place a great bonfire was prepared; all the members stood around in a circle, clasping hands; the fire was kindled, and while the flames soared up and lit the faces of the crowd, songs were sung and speeches were made. this service was maintained annually until the ground at chautauqua became too closely occupied by cottages for a bonfire to be safe. it is noteworthy that on the day after the camp fire, there was always a large enrollment of members for the c. l. s. c. of course, the camp fire was introduced at other assemblies, by this time becoming numerous, and it attracted not only spectators, but students to the reading-course. at our first camp fire in the ottawa assembly, kansas, an old farmer from the country rushed up to dr. milner, the president, and said: "i don't know much about this ere circle you were talking about, but i'm going to jine, and here's my fifty cents for membership and another for my wife." there were only twenty members around the fire that night, but on the next day, there were forty or more on the registry at the chautauqua tent. the camp fire died down after a number of years, but the vigil, also introduced in , became a permanent institution. in the days of chivalry, when a youth was to receive the honor of knighthood, he spent his last night in the chapel of the castle, watching beside his armor, to be worn for the first time on the following day. dr. vincent called upon the members of the pioneer class of the c. l. s. c., destined to graduate on the following year, to meet him in the hall of philosophy late on sunday night, after the conclusion of the evening service. all except members of the class were requested not to come. the hall was dimly lighted, left almost in darkness. they sang a few songs from memory, listened to a psalm, and to an earnest, deeply religious address, were led in prayer, and were dismissed, to go home in silence through the empty avenues. after a few years the vigil was changed from a sunday evening of the year before graduation to the sunday immediately preceding recognition day, for the reason that on the graduation year, the attendance of any class is far greater than on the year before. the vigil is still one of the time-honored and highly appreciated services of the season. now, however, the hall is no longer left in shadow, for around it the athenian watch fires lighten up st. paul's grove with their flaring tongues. generally more people are standing outside the pillars of the hall, watching the ceremonials, than are seated before the platform, for none are permitted to enter except members of the class about to graduate. i am not sure whether it was in this year, , or the following that dr. vincent inaugurated the society of christian ethics. this was not an organization with a roll of membership, dues, and duties, but simply a meeting on sunday afternoon in the children's temple, at which an address on character was given, in the first years by dr. vincent. it was especially for young people of the 'teen age. no one was admitted under the age of twelve or over that of twenty. the young people were quite proud of having dr. vincent all to themselves, and strongly resented the efforts of their elders to obtain admittance. no person of adult years was allowed without a card signed by dr. vincent. these addresses by the founder, if they had been taken down and preserved, would have formed a valuable book for young people on the building up of true character. they were continued during the years of dr. vincent's active association with chautauqua and for some time afterward; addresses being given by eminent men of the chautauqua program. but very few speakers could meet the needs of that adolescent age. by degrees the attendance decreased and after some years the meeting gave place to other interests. the regular features of the season went on as in other years. the schools were growing in students, in the number of instructors, and in the breadth of their courses. the sunday school normal department was still prominent, and on august , , one hundred and ninety diplomas were conferred upon the adults, intermediates, and children who had passed the examination. chapter xiii the first recognition day ( ) the opening service of the ninth session was begun, as all the opening sessions of previous years, in the out-of-doors auditorium in front of the miller cottage. but a sudden dash of rain came down and a hasty adjournment was made to the new amphitheater. from onward, "old first night" has been observed in that building. a few lectures during the season of ' were given in the old auditorium, but at the close of the season the seats were removed, save a few left here and there under the trees for social enjoyment; and the auditorium was henceforth known as miller park. the crowning event of the season was the graduation of the first class in the chautauqua literary and scientific circle. taking into account the fact that it was the first class, for which no advertising had been given and no announcement made in advance, the number graduated at the end of the four years was remarkably large, over eighteen hundred, of which eight hundred received their diplomas at chautauqua and a thousand more at their homes, some in distant places. years afterward i met a minister in a small town in texas who had seen the report of the inauguration of the c. l. s. c., had read dr. vincent's address on that occasion, and joined the class of , its only member, as far as he knew, in his state. one member was a teacher in south africa, others were missionaries in india and china. most of the regular visitors to chautauqua in those early days were members of this class, so that even now, after nearly forty years, the pioneer class can always muster at its annual gatherings a larger number of its members than almost any other of the classes. for many years mrs. b. t. vincent was the president of the class, and strongly interested in its social and religious life. she instituted at chautauqua the "quiet hour," held every saturday evening during the assembly season, at pioneer hall, by this class, a meeting for conversation on subjects of culture and the christian life. it is a touching sight to look upon that group of old men and women, at their annual farewell meeting, on the evening before the recognition day, standing in a circle with joined hands, singing together their class song written for them by mary a. lathbury, and then sounding forth their class yell: hear! hear! pioneers! height to height, fight for right, pioneers! who are you? who are you? we are the class of eighty-two! pioneers--ah! no college class was ever graduated with half the state and splendor of ceremony that was observed on that first recognition day, in a ritual prepared by dr. vincent, and observed to the letter every year since . he chose to call it not a commencement, but a recognition, the members of the circle being _recognized_ on that day as having completed the course and entitled to membership in the society of the hall in the grove, the alumni association of the c. l. s. c. a procession was formed, its divisions meeting in different places. the graduating class met before the golden gate at st. paul's grove, a gate which is opened but once in the year and through which none may pass except those who have completed the course of reading and study of the c. l. s. c. over the gate hung a silk flag which had been carried by the rev. albert d. vail of new york to many of the famous places in the world of literature, art, and religion. it had been waved from the summit of the great pyramid, of mount sinai in the desert, and mount tabor in the holy land. it had been laid in the manger at bethlehem, and in the traditional tomb of jesus in holy sepulcher church. it had fluttered upon the sea of galilee, upon mount lebanon, in the house where paul was converted at damascus, and under the dome of st. sophia in constantinople. it had been at the acropolis and mars' hill in athens, to westminster abbey, and to shakespeare's tomb at stratford, to the graves of walter scott and robert burns. upon its stripes were inscribed the names of forty-eight places to which that flag had been carried. the class stood before the golden gate, still kept closed until the moment should come for it to be opened, and in two sections the members read a responsive service from the bible, having wisdom and especially the highest wisdom of all, the knowledge of god, as its subject. [illustration: lutheran headquarters] [illustration: united presbyterian chapel] at the same time one section of the parade was meeting in miller park, in front of the lewis miller cottage. another was at the tent where lived dr. vincent, and still another division, the most interesting of all, on the hill, in front of the children's temple. this was an array of fifty little girls in white dresses, with wreaths in their hair and baskets of flowers in their hands. at the signal, the procession moved from its different stations, and marched past the vincent tent, led by the band and the flower girls, and including every department of chautauqua, officials, trustees, schools, and sunday school normal class. in the later years each class of graduates marched, led by its banner, the class of , the pioneers, bearing in front their symbol, the hatchet. before all was the great banner of the c. l. s. c. presented to the circle by miss jennie miller, lewis miller's eldest daughter, bearing upon one side a painting of the hall of philosophy and the three mottoes of the circle; on the other a silk handkerchief which had accompanied the flag on its journey to the sacred places. the pole holding up the banner was surmounted by a fragment of plymouth rock. the march was to the hall of philosophy, where the orator, officers, and guests occupied the platform, the little flower girls were grouped on opposite sides of the path from the golden gate up to the hall; the graduating class still standing outside the entrance protected by the guard of the gate. a messenger came from the gate to announce that the class was now prepared to enter, having fulfilled all of the conditions, and the order was given, "let the golden gate now be opened." the portals were swung apart, and the class entered, passing under the historic flag and successively under four arches dedicated respectively to faith, science, literature, and art, while the little girls strewed flowers in their path. as they marched up the hill they were greeted by miss lathbury's song: the song of to-day sing pæans over the past! we bury the dead years tenderly, to find them again in eternity, safe in its circle vast. sing pæans over the past! farewell, farewell to the old! beneath the arches, and one by one, from sun to shade, and from shade to sun, we pass, and the years are told. farewell, farewell to the old! arise and possess the land! not one shall fail in the march of life, not one shall fail in the hour of strife, who trusts in the lord's right hand. arise and possess the land! and hail, all hail to the new! the future lies like a world new-born, all steeped in sunshine and dews of morn, and arched with a cloudless blue all hail, all hail to the new! all things, all things are yours! the spoil of nations, the arts sublime that arch the ages from oldest time, the word that for aye endures-- all things, all things are yours! the lord shall sever the sea, and open a way in the wilderness to faith that follows, to feet that pass forth into the great to be the lord shall sever the sea! the inspiring music of this inspiring hymn was composed, like most of the best chautauqua songs, by prof. william f. sherwin. the class entered, and while taking their seats were welcomed in the strains of another melody: a song is thrilling through the trees, and vibrant through the air, ten thousand hearts turn hitherward, and greet us from afar. and through the happy tide of song that blends our hearts in one, the voices of the absent flow in tender undertone. chorus then bear along, o wings of song, our happy greeting glee, from center to the golden verge, chautauqua to the sea. fair wisdom builds her temple here, her seven-pillared dome; toward all lands she spreads her hands, and greets her children home; not all may gather at her shrine to sing of victories won; their names are graven on her walls-- god bless them every one! _chorus._ o happy circle, ever wide and wider be thy sweep, till peace and knowledge fill the earth as waters fill the deep; till hearts and homes are touched to life, and happier heights are won; till that fair day, clasp hands, and say god bless us, every one! _chorus._ another responsive service followed, read in turn by the superintendent and the class, and then dr. vincent gave the formal recognition in words used at every similar service since that day: _fellow-students of the chautauqua literary and scientific circle._ dearly beloved: you have finished the appointed and accepted course of reading; you have been admitted to this sacred grove; you have passed the arches dedicated to faith, science, literature, and art; you have entered in due form this hall, the center of the chautauqua literary and scientific circle. and now as superintendent of instruction,[ ] with these my associates, the counsellors of our fraternity, i greet you; and hereby announce that you, and your brethren and sisters absent from us to-day, who have completed with you the prescribed course of reading, are accepted and approved graduates of the chautauqua literary and scientific circle, and that you are entitled to membership in the society of the hall in the grove. "the lord bless thee and keep thee; the lord make his face shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee; the lord lift up his countenance upon thee and give thee peace." after another song, the marshal of the procession took charge, and the order of march was renewed, the newly graduated class in the rear, followed by the superintendent, counsellors, and officers. the company marched to the amphitheater, on the way the procession dividing and forming on both sides of the street, while the officers and the graduating class passed through the open files, thus bringing the graduating class at the head of the line into the amphitheater. here more songs were sung and other responsive readings were rendered before an audience that thronged the building. the oration on the first graduation service was given by dr. henry w. warren, who had been elevated to the episcopate two years before. after the oration a recess was taken, and in the afternoon the concluding service was held and the diplomas were conferred upon the eight hundred graduates present by the hand of dr. vincent. in most college commencements that i have attended, the president takes the diplomas at random from a table and hands them to the class as they come, not giving to each graduate his own diploma, and afterward there is a general looking up one another and sorting out the diplomas until at last each one obtains his own. but miss kimball, the secretary, devised a plan by which all the diplomas were numbered and each graduate was furnished with a card showing his number. these numbers were called out ten at a time, and each graduate was able to receive his own (mostly _her_ own) diploma, while the audience heard the name upon it and the number of seals it bore for special reading and study. it should be mentioned that some members of the class arrived on the ground too late to pass with their classmates through the golden gate and under the arches. for their benefit the gate was opened a second time before the afternoon meeting, and a special recognition service was held, so that they might enjoy all the privileges of the class. this is another custom continued every year, for always it is needed. after a year or two it entered the facetious minds of mr. and mrs. beard to originate a comic travesty on the recognition service, which was presented on the evening after the formal exercises, when everybody was weary and was ready to descend from the serious heights. this grew into quite an institution and was continued for a number of years--a sort of mock-commencement, making fun of the prominent figures and features of the day. almost as large an audience was wont to assemble for this evening of mirth and jollity, as was seen at the stately service of the morning. this in turn had its day and finally grew into the chautauqua circus, an amateur performance which is still continued every year under one name or another. we have given much space to the story of the first recognition day, as a sample of the similar services held every year afterward, growing with the growth of the c. l. s. c. but there were other events of ' scarcely less noteworthy. on that year a great organ was installed in the amphitheater, and its effect was soon seen in the enlargement of the choir and the improvement in the music. we can mention only in the briefest manner some of the speakers on the platform for that year: such as dr. w. t. harris of concord, mass., afterward u. s. commissioner of education; professor william h. niles of boston; mr. wallace bruce; dr. t. dewitt talmage; dr. wm. m. blackburn of cincinnati, the church historian; dr. a. d. vail of new york, who told in an interesting manner the story of the banner and the flag; dr. mark hopkins, the great college president; bishop r. s. foster; anthony comstock and john b. gough, with others equally distinguished whose names we must omit. one new name appeared upon the program of this season which will be read often in the coming years, that of mr. leon h. vincent, the son of rev. b. t. vincent. he gave a course of lectures on english literature, mingling biographical, social, and critical views of the great writers, attracting large audiences. we shall find him among the leading lights of chautauqua in the successive chapters of our story. an institution which began that year and has been perpetuated must not be omitted--the devotional conference. both of the founders of chautauqua were strong in their purpose to hold the christian religion ever in the forefront at the assembly. various plans were tried during the early years, but none seemed to reach the constituency of chautauqua until dr. benjamin m. adams, at dr. vincent's request, began holding a daily service of an hour. this attracted a large attendance and was continued for a number of years, as long as dr. adams could conduct it. afterward an arrangement was made which has become permanent. every season a series of eminent clergymen are engaged, each to serve for one week as chaplain. he preaches the sunday morning sermon in the amphitheater, and on the following five days at ten o'clock conducts the devotional hour in the same place, giving a series of discourses, bible readings, or addresses. the speaker of each week is a man of national or international fame. the greatest preachers in the american pulpit have spoken at this service, and the audience is surpassed in numbers only by the most popular lectures or concerts. many there are who deem this the most precious hour in the day. footnote: [ ] after dr. vincent's title was changed to "chancellor of the chautauqua university" that form was used; and in his absence the president said instead "as representing the chancellor of the chautauqua university." chapter xiv some stories of the c. l. s. c. ( , ) we must hasten our steps through the passing years at chautauqua. our readers may take for granted that the regular departments were continued; that the summer schools were adding new courses and calling new professors; that the normal class for the training of sunday school workers was still held, no longer in the section-tents nor in the children's temple, but under a large tent on an elevation where two years later was to stand the normal hall, built for the class, but after some years transferred first to the musical department, later to the summer schools and partitioned into class-rooms. the children's class was still held by dr. b. t. vincent and professor frank beard, for our friend with the crayon was now in the faculty of the school of art in syracuse university. in the session was forty-five days long, from july th to august th. a new feature of the program was an "ideal foreign tour through europe," with illustrated lectures on various cities by c. e. bolton, and "tourists' conferences" conducted by his wife, the cultured mrs. sarah k. bolton. mrs. emma p. ewing of chicago taught classes in the important art of cookery. professor charles j. little gave a course of lectures. hon. albion w. tourgee, residing at mayville, who had achieved fame soon after the civil war by his story, _a fool's errand_, gave lectures in the amphitheater. professor william c. richards showed brilliant illustrations in physical science. dr. p. s. henson entertained while he instructed; president julius h. seelye, dr. w. f. mallalien, later a bishop, president joseph cummings of northwestern university, hon. will cumback of indiana, and many others, gave lectures. a new instructor entered the school of languages in , in the person of william rainey harper, then professor in the baptist school of theology at morgan park, illinois, afterward to be the first president of the university of chicago. no man ever lived who could inspire a class with the enthusiasm that he could awaken over the study of hebrew, could lead his students so far in that language in a six weeks' course, or could impart such broad and sane views of the biblical literature. from this year dr. harper was one of the leaders at chautauqua, and soon was advanced to the principalship of the summer schools. in the after years, while dr. harper was president of the university of chicago, and holding classes all the year, in summer as well as winter, he was wont to take the train every friday afternoon, in order to spend saturday and sunday at chautauqua. chautauquans of those days will also remember the recitals by professor robert l. cumnock of northwestern university, a reader who was a scholar in the best literature. the class of , though not as large as its predecessor, the pioneers, was graduated with the same ceremonies, the address on recognition day given by dr. lyman abbott of new york, one of the counsellors of the circle. five years had now passed since the inauguration of this movement, and from every quarter testimonials of its power and incidents showing its influence were received. let me mention a few of these which came under my own notice. i met a lady who mentioned that she and her husband were reading the course together and they found the only available hour between six and seven in the morning, before breakfast. for the study of the course they both had risen at half past five for a year or more. one result of this early morning reading was, she said, that at the breakfast table they told the children stories of history and science, which she thought turned their minds toward knowledge. among the books was one on human physiology--a book, which, by the way, i did not rate very highly and objected to as being so elementary as to become almost juvenile; yet that book awakened such an interest that the lady began to read more widely and deeply on the subject, after a few months entered the woman's medical college in new york, during her course took several prizes, and graduated with high honors. it may have been that she foresaw what came, the failure of her husband's health, so that of necessity she became the bread-winner for her family. she was a successful physician, honored in the community, the chautauqua circle having opened to her wider opportunities of knowledge and usefulness. two college professors of high standing have told me that they were first awakened to a desire and determination for higher education through their early readings in the c. l. s. c. one rather amusing yet suggestive incident came to my notice. visiting a city in the middle west, i met a lady who told me that she belonged to a club of young people who met weekly in a card party. one member told the rest about the c. l. s. c. which she had joined and showed them the books, whereupon they all sent in their names as members, and the card club was transformed into a chautauqua reading circle. i was seated with dr. edward e. hale at a c. l. s. c. banquet in new england, when he pointed out a middle-aged gentleman at the head of one of the tables and told me this story about him. while a boy he came to his father and said, "i don't want to go to school any longer, i want to go to work and earn my own living, and there's a place in boston that is open to me." "well," said his father, "perhaps you would better take the place, i've noticed that you are not paying much attention to your studies of late. i'm very sorry for i have set my heart on giving you a good education. you don't know now, but you'll find out later that the difference between the man who gives orders and the man who takes them is that generally one of the two men knows more than the other, and knowledge brings a man up in the world." the boy went to boston and took a job in a big store, and he found that he was taking a good many orders from those above him and giving none to others. he realized that for success in life he needed an education. ashamed to give up and go home, he began to attend an evening school which some of us had established. there i met him and was able to give him some encouragement and some help. he became a well-read and, in the end, a successful business man. as soon as he heard of the chautauqua circle, he began to read its books and was made president of a local circle. that table is filled with the members of his circle and he sits at the head of it. i wish that i could write down a story as it was told me by dr. duryea, at chautauqua. it was of a man who sat at his table in the hotel and was always in a hurry, never finishing his meals in his haste to get to lectures and classes. the doctor got him to talking and he forgot to drink his coffee while telling his story. he said that he kept a country store in a village in arkansas, where the young men used to come in the evenings and tell stories together. he felt that he was leading a rather narrow life and needed intelligence, but did not know where to obtain it. there were books enough in the world, but how could he choose the right ones? a newspaper fell under his notice containing some mention of the c. l. s. c.; he sent his fee to the office, obtained the books for the year, and began to read in the intervals of time between customers in his store. for retirement he fixed up a desk and shelf of books in the rear of the shop. some of his evening callers said, "what have you got back there?" and he showed his books, telling them of the c. l. s. c. a number of them at once decided to join, and soon he found himself the conductor of a chautauqua circle with twenty members. they fixed up a meeting place in a store-room in a garret under the eaves, talked over the topics, and read papers. when the text-book on electricity was before them, they made experiments with home-made batteries and ran wires all around the room. the man said, "those fellows look to me to answer all sorts of questions, and i find that i am getting beyond my depth. i have come to chautauqua to fill up and i'm doing it. but the difficulty is that too many things come at the same time; here's a lecture on american authors and one on biology, and one on history, all at once, and i never know which to attend. but chautauqua is a great place, isn't it?" a servant in a family, while waiting at the table, heard the lady and her daughters talking of the circle which was being formed. the girl asked her mistress if she would be permitted to join. with some hesitation, the lady said, "why, yes, if you really wish to read the books, you can be a member." this serving-maid soon showed herself as the brightest scholar in the group, far superior in her thirst for knowledge to her young mistresses. she was encouraged and aided to seek a higher education, entered a normal school, and became a successful teacher. one letter received at the office contained, in brief, the following: "i am a working-man with six children and i work hard to keep them in school. since i found out about your circle, i have begun to read, getting up early in the morning to do it. i am trying hard to keep up, so that my boys will see what father does--just as an example to them." a letter from a night watchman said, "i read as i come on my rounds to the lights, and think it over between times." a steamboat captain on one of the western rivers wrote that he enjoyed reading the books and found the recollection of their contents a great benefit, "for when i stand on the deck at night i have something good to think about; and you know that when one has not taken care of his thoughts they will run away with him and he will think about things he ought not." i was well acquainted with a gentleman and his wife, both of unspotted character, but unfortunately living apart from some incompatibility. he was accustomed to call upon her every fortnight, in a formal manner, professedly to meet their children, and on one of his visits he mentioned that he was beginning the c. l. s. c. readings. she was desirous of knowing what those letters meant; he explained and gave her a circular of information. she, too, joined the circle, and next time at his call they spent an evening pleasantly discussing the subjects of reading that both were pursuing. from a fortnightly they dropped into a weekly interview, and after a time spent nearly all their evenings together. one day i met them together, and being aware of their former relations, i perhaps showed surprise. the husband took me aside and said that they were now living together very happily, thanks to the c. l. s. c. they had forgotten their differences in a common object of interest. in the early years of the c. l. s. c. one book of the course was on the subject of practical christianity. at one time, the religious book was _the philosophy of the plan of salvation_, by dr. walker, a work widely read two generations ago and regarded as a standard. we received at the office a letter from a high-school teacher who said that he was an agnostic and did not wish to read such a book--could he not read some scientific work by tyndall or huxley in place of it? miss kimball referred his letter to me, and i took it to dr. vincent. he considered the question, and then wrote in substance this answer: if you were a unitarian, you could read a volume by james martineau; if you were a roman catholic, you could read one of many good catholic religious books; if you were a jew you might take some book upon your own religion. but you call yourself an agnostic, that is, one who does not know god and has no religion, and therefore, to meet the requirements of your course it will be necessary for you to read some candid, sane work on the christian religion; and such is walker's "plan of salvation." the letter closed with a friendly request that he would read the book without a strong prejudice against it, and some hearty sympathetic sentences which dr. vincent knew how to write. for a year we heard nothing of the man; we concluded that he had been offended at the requirement and had left the circle. we were surprised when at last another letter came from him stating that he had read the book, at first unwillingly, but later with deep interest; also that association with believers in the circle had shown them, not as he had supposed, narrow and bigoted, but broad in their views. he had seen in them a mystic something which he desired; he had sought and found it. "to-day," he wrote, "i have united with the presbyterian church, and this evening i led the christian endeavor meeting." dr. hale told of a man who had been formerly a pupil and youth in his church, who was suffering from nervous prostration, and lay down in a shack in an out-of-the-way place in florida, almost ready to die. his eyes were drawn to the orange-colored cover of a magazine which he had never seen before, _the chautauquan_. he opened it at random and began to read. "are you a child of god? are you a partaker of the divine nature? if you are, work with god! don't give up working with god!" it seemed to him like a voice from heaven. on that moment he said to himself, "i will not die, but live!" he began to read the magazine and followed it by reading the books to which the magazine made reference. they opened before him a new field of thought and made of him a new man. he told this story to dr. hale in his own church and said: "i am here because of that orange-covered _chautauquan_ which i found lying under the bench in that old cabin." it is possible, nay, it is certain, that the chautauqua circle, by being not a church society, but a secular organization permeated by the christian spirit, has exercised an influence all the stronger to promote an intelligent, broad-minded christianity. [illustration: south ravine, near children's playground] [illustration: muscallonge] [illustration: bathhouse and jacob bolin gymnasium] everyone active in chautauqua work through a series of years could narrate many stories like the above, and doubtless some more remarkable; but i have given only a few out of many that could be recalled out of an experience with the c. l. s. c. through more than forty years. as i have looked upon the representatives of the graduating class in the hall of philosophy, i have often wished that i might know some of the life-stories of those who, often through difficulties unknown, have carried the course through to completion. an eminent minister wrote to me recently as follows: at a place where i became pastor i found two sisters who were living in dark seclusion, brooding in melancholia as the effect of a great sorrow. they attended church, but took no part in our work, and none at all in society. i did my best to comfort those young women and bring them out of their monasticism. but it was all in vain. their broken spirits revolted from a religion of happiness. a few years after my pastorate was ended there, and i was preaching elsewhere, i visited the town and was surprised to find both those women among the most active women in the church, happy, gifted, and universally esteemed. what had wrought the change? they chanced to hear of the chautauqua reading course and sent for the books and magazines. they pursued the course, graduated, and visited chautauqua. it awakened their entire being and brought them into a new world. they were literally born anew. i have witnessed wonderful changes in people, but never any that was more thorough, real, and permanent than in those young women. let us name also some of the leading events of the assembly of . as the organ of the c. y. f. r. u. dr. flood established _the youth's c. l. s. c. paper_ for boys and girls. it was an illustrated magazine, but only twelve numbers were published, as the field for periodical literature for young people was already well covered. "the chautauqua foreign tour," a series of illustrated lectures on the british isles, was conducted this year by rev. jesse bowman young, professor h. h. ragan, and mr. george makepeace towle. music was abundant and varied this season, the choir being led by professors sherwin and case in turn; concerts by a remarkable quartet, the meigs sisters; the delightful singers of southern plantation and revival songs, the tennesseans; the yale college glee club; miss belle mcclintock, mrs. j. c. hull, mr. e. o. excell, and miss tuthill, soloists. dr. charles j. little gave a course of lectures on english literature; dr. henson, miss susan hayes ward, dr. j. w. butler of mexico, and dr. s. s. smith of minnesota were among the lecturers. we heard ram chandra bose and dennis osborne of india, and sau aubrah of burmah, a most interesting speaker on the customs of his country and his impressions of ours. principal fairbairn of oxford made the history of philosophy interesting, and the rev. a. j. palmer of new york won instant fame by his great war lecture, "company d, the die-no-more's," given on grand army day to a great concourse of old soldiers. on saturday, august d, a reception was given to the governor of pennsylvania, hon. robert e. pattison. friday, august th, was observed as the decennial anniversary of the woman's christian temperance union. i find on the program of that year a series of colloquies named "the socratic academy," conducted by dr. h. h. moore. i know not what subjects they discussed, nor how they discussed them, but i remember dr. moore as one able to shed light on any subject that he chose to present. as i read the program of any one of those years at chautauqua, i realize how utterly inadequate must be any sketch like the above to bring it before a reader. by this time three classes of the c. l. s. c. had been graduated, ' , ' , and ' . four more classes were pursuing the course, so that c. l. s. c. members present at chautauqua might now be counted by the thousand. there was a strong class-spirit. each class had its name, its motto, its badge, and its banner, and ribbon badges were fluttering everywhere. every day came announcements from the platform of class-meetings, and it was sometimes difficult to provide for them all. during the season of two classes united their interests, raised money, and purchased a small octagonal building near the hall of philosophy. these were the classes of ' and ' . the movement for class headquarters was growing; all the other classes began the raising of building funds, and those who looked into the future saw all around st. paul's grove the prospect of small buildings rising. how would the grounds appear when forty classes should have little headquarters--a c. l. s. c. village? the plan began to be mooted of a union class building, to be realized later. chapter xv the chaplain's leg and other true tales ( - ) the twelfth year of the assembly, , opened with a preliminary week, beginning july th, for the teachers' retreat and the school of languages, and closed with "after-week," making the entire session fifty-three days long, ending on august th. but the official "opening" did not take place until the traditional date, tuesday, august th. for years, indeed from the beginning, dr. vincent had set his heart on having a chime of bells at chautauqua. the practically minded trustees urged for some needed improvement, and buildings for the growing schools, but the poetic conception carried the day, and in the meneely chime of ten bells was heard at the opening in july. some common souls in cottages around complained of their frequency, awaking folks early in the morning and breaking their naps in the afternoon, but to most their mellow music was a welcome sound. it has always been the rule that quiet must reign on the grounds after the night bells at : p.m., and watchmen have been wont to knock at doors where the rule was honored in the breach instead of the observance. a parlor full of young people enjoying themselves does not always come to silence in a minute. i remember one house near the point where dwelt an elderly lady with abundant gray hair but a young heart, and also with an attractive daughter. that home was exceedingly popular among the younger set, and their meetings--doubtless held for the discussion of serious subjects, for the voices were sometimes loud--were often prolonged beyond the time of the bells. one night an unusually imperative rap of the watchman's stick on the front door startled the group. the door was opened a little and the matron put forth her head with the words loudly spoken, "shoot, if you must, this old gray head!" whereupon the watchman departed without a word. in the revolution of the chautauqua circle, was known as the roman year, having as its major subject latin history and literature. the studies of the "foreign tour" in the assembly program embraced lectures, with illustrations on italian cities and scenery. dr. vincent's fertile mind conceived a plan to aid the students of the course, and incidentally to advertise it, by a series of object-lessons. he divided pratt avenue, the path leading up to the college on the hill, into sections corresponding by their relative lengths to the periods of roman history, and erected at the proper points along the road, posts to commemorate the leading events, with dates and names of the great men of the several periods. these milestones were black, with inscriptions in white. as people passed by they would be reminded of the leading facts in the story of the eternal city. often might be seen members of the c. l. s. c., notebook in hand, storing their minds with the dates and events in the annals of rome. the coal-black pillars had a somewhat sepulchral look and suggested a graveyard. one lady who was a stranger at chautauqua, and evidently not a member of the c. l. s. c., asked dr. r. s. holmes, one of the leading workers, "can you tell me why all these tombstones have been set up here. surely all the men named on them cannot be buried along this street!" the question was also asked if it was proposed each year to set up a row of trophies on other streets for the american year, the english year, the greek year, and by degrees to turn all chautauqua into a memorial grove for great men and great deeds of all the ages; but at the close of the season the monuments were gathered up and carried away, leaving no successors. the lecture platform of was as strong as ever. dr. charles f. deems of new york delivered the baccalaureate sermon on sunday, august th, an unique discourse on the short text, "one new man" (eph. : ), and the recognition address on the following wednesday was by dr. e. e. hale of boston. a special series of "yale university historical lectures" was given by professor arthur m. wheeler. bishop cyrus d. foss of the methodist episcopal church preached on sunday, august d. dr. john p. newman delivered a lecture on august th in memory of president u. s. grant, of whom he had been a friend and pastor. this year a young man made his first appearance upon the chautauqua platform, not yet as a lecturer, but introducing speakers in felicitous sentences and presiding with the ease of an experienced chairman. this was mr. george edgar vincent, just graduated from yale university, from whom chautauqua and the world in general was to hear before many years. in , the institution received a new charter from the legislature of new york, giving it the name "chautauqua university" and the power to confer degrees. by vote of the board, the title "chancellor of the chautauqua university" was given to dr. vincent. it was hoped to establish a college for study by correspondence, with reviews of the subjects taught in the summer meeting. but the expense of a professional staff was great and the number of students was not large enough to support it without an endowment. the chautauqua university might have won a place in the world of education, if friends had been found to bestow upon it a liberal endowment, but among the varied gifts of dr. vincent was not that peculiar talent for raising money. the university did not prosper, and in the trustees voluntarily surrendered to the regents of the university of the state of new york the examination of candidates and the conferring of degrees. again the title was changed and the university became "the chautauqua system of education." the year ushered in some improvements. in place of the old wharf stood a new pier building, three stories high, with stores on the upper balcony, for the steamboat still brought most of the chautauqua crowds and at their arrival a throng was always present to greet them. above the building rose a tower, from which sounded forth over the lake and through the grove the melody of the chautauqua chimes. on the hill was the new jewett house, given by mrs. a. h. jewett as a home for self-supporting young women, teachers and others, while at chautauqua. the program of that year shows that a faculty of sixteen conducted the work in the chautauqua teachers' retreat, and fifteen others gave courses in the school of languages. lessons in harmony, organ and piano, drawing and painting were also added. the chautauqua school of physical education was established under the direction of dr. w. g. anderson. all these were signs that the system of summer schools at chautauqua was increasing its range of study, as well as growing in the number of its students. one of the lecturers at this season was professor caleb t. winchester of wesleyan university. it was a privilege to listen to his scholarly yet delightful account of a ramble in the english lake country, with estimates of the literary lights who made that region famous. dr. wm. h. milburn, the blind chaplain of the united states senate, dr. russell h. conwell, with his lecture of "acres of diamonds," dr. edward e. hale and mrs. mary a. livermore also gave lectures. dr. hale read his story, _in his name_; and at the close of his reading came a general rush for his autograph. i happened to be in charge of the platform, and tried to excuse the speaker from adding to his burdens, but he declared his willingness to meet the demands of the people and wrote in every album offered. in the crowd was a little girl, shabbily dressed, who had no album, but brought a scrap of brown paper which she had picked up. dr. hale looked at the torn fragment, then took the copy of his story from which he had been reading, wrote on its fly-leaf his name, and handed it to the little girl. [illustration: athletic club] [illustration: boys' club headed for camp] two lecturers from the south attracted attention. one was the rev. j. w. lee, an able, broad-minded man; the other was the unique evangelist, rev. sam p. jones, whose utterances were sometimes eloquent, sometimes jocose, sometimes shocking, but always interesting. dr. willis j. beecher of the auburn theological seminary, dr. john hall of new york, and president william f. warren of boston university were also among the speakers. readings were given by will m. carleton, george w. cable, and general lew wallace, from their own writings. an immense crowd packed the amphitheater to hear general wallace read from his _ben hur_ the story of the chariot race. but candor compels us to say that it was not very thrillingly rendered. one who listened said, "he never got his horses off the walk." other readers were george riddle of boston and professor r. l. cumnock of northwestern university. this summer mrs. frank beard collected and conducted an oriental exhibition. almost every year frank beard was at chautauqua, teaching a class in art, making pictures in the children's class, giving one or two crayon lectures, and occasionally on sunday evenings an illustrated bible reading. as already intimated, that was the age when there was a craze for autographs, and everybody carried around an autograph album, seeking signatures from the celebrities. after a popular lecture a crowd hastened to the platform and a hundred hands, each holding an album, would be stretched out toward the speaker, demanding his autograph. of course every child, and nearly every grown-up, must have frank beard's autograph, and with it a picture drawn by his hand. frank said once in a religious meeting that his idea of heaven was a place where there were no autograph albums. every year at chautauqua is held a national army day, when the civil war veterans from near and far assemble, wear their g. a. r. uniforms and badges, and listen to an address in the amphitheater. one year, i think it was , but i am not sure, the orator was late in coming, and mr. beard, himself a veteran of the war, was called upon to fill the vacancy. he told the story of "the chaplain's leg," of which some incredulous people have doubted the authenticity. as i remember it was somewhat as follows. he would come forward, slapping his right leg, and saying: that is a good leg, but it isn't mine. it belonged once to the chaplain of our regiment; i was in a battle and happened to have a tree between myself and the whole rebel army. there was a change in the front, and i started to make a detour to another tree. just in the middle of my march i ran against the chaplain, who was also making a detour, and at that moment came along a rebel shell, which took off one of his legs and also one of mine. we lay on the ground only a minute or two, and then an ambulance took us and the two legs on board. they carried us to the field hospital, and put on our legs, which grew just as they should, so that after a few weeks i was dismissed as cured. well, i had been a long time, for me, without liquid refreshment, and i knew that out in the woods near the camp was an extemporized bar, in the shape of a board laid on two stumps of trees. i found it hard to walk in that direction, and had to pull my right leg along; but i thought that it needed only a little practice to be as good as ever. i got to the bar and ordered a glass of something; it might have been ginger-pop or it might have been something else. just after it was poured out and before i could take hold of it, that right leg of mine lifted itself up and kicked over the whole contraption--glass, and jug, and bar, and then in spite of all i could do, stumped me back to camp! and on the way i passed the chaplain who was being dragged out _to_ the bar, while i was being pulled away from it. then i knew what had happened in the hospital; they had put each leg on the wrong man, and i must carry around the chaplain's leg as long as i lived. the leg took me to church; at first it was pretty tough, but i got used to it. that leg brought me to chautauqua, and here i am to-day, brought by the chaplain's leg. some time ago i gave by request a lecture with pictures in the sing sing prison, and there among the convicts sat my old friend the chaplain, wearing a striped suit. what brought him there i can't imagine, unless--well, i don't know what it was. the assembly of was fifty-eight days in length, from july d to august th. the schools were still growing in the number of students and enlarging their courses. some of the new departments were the arabic and assyrian languages, mathematics, chemistry, oratory and expression, stenography, mineralogy, and geology. to house these classes and the army of students, buildings were urgently needed, and this year a college building arose overlooking the lake. it stood until two years ago, when on account of its dilapidation as well as its incongruity with the modern plans of the schools, it was taken down. during the season of , the fourth of july address was given by hon. roswell g. horr, member of congress from michigan. dr. fairbairn from oxford was with us again, also the rev. mark guy pearse of england, dr. charles j. little, dr. john a. broadus of louisville, one of those scholars who know how to present great truths in a simple manner, chaplain mccabe, dr. charles r. henderson, on social questions of the time, and mrs. mary a. livermore. rev. sam p. jones was also on the platform for the second season. he gave his powerful sermon on "conscience" with not a sentence to provoke a smile, but a strong call to righteousness. another address, however, contained an application which called forth a smile all over the audience. it was known that dr. vincent was being strongly talked of as a candidate for bishop in the methodist episcopal church, and in the following may, , he was elected to that office. dr. vincent was presiding at mr. jones' lecture. in the address jones managed to bring in an allusion to bishops. then turning halfway round toward the chairman, he said, "doctor vincent, i shouldn't wonder if they made you and me bishops before long. you see the thing's coming down." the class graduating this year in the c. l. s. c. was the largest in the history of the circle. it included in its membership the rev. g. r. alden and his wife, and was named in her honor, the pansy class. at this time the enrolled members of the c. l. s. c. were more than eighty thousand in number. the assembly of opened on july d and closed on august th, fifty-eight days in length. the summer school was now announced as the college of liberal arts. i notice in the list of subjects taught: old french, scandinavian languages and literature, sanskrit, zend and gothic, hebrew and semitic languages, and philology. it is not to be supposed that all of these classes were overcrowded with students, but those in physical culture and arts and crafts were very popular. the annual exhibition of the gymnastic classes has been for years one of the most thronged events on the program, and in anticipation the amphitheater is filled long in advance of the hour for beginning the exercises. among the lecturers of this season were mrs. alden, "pansy," who read a new story, _the hall in the grove_; dr. william r. harper, dr. frank w. gunsaulus, dr. joseph cook, dr. talmage, dr. hale, general russell a. alger, and george w. bain. dr. phillips brooks, giant in body and in soul, preached one of his sermons, sweeping in swift utterances like a tidal wave. one hardly dared draw a breath for fear of losing his mighty periods. bishop william taylor of africa, was also present, and thrilled his hearers, yet in a calm, quiet manner, absolutely free from any oratorical display. there was a charm in his address and the most critical hearers felt it, yet could not analyze it. i met, not at chautauqua but elsewhere, a lawyer who admitted that he rarely attended church because he could not endure the dull sermons; but after listening to bishop taylor, said that if he could hear that man he would go to church twice, even three times, on a sunday. and yet in all his discourse there was not a rhetorical sentence nor a rounded period. mr. leon h. vincent was again at chautauqua, with his literary lectures. either during this season or the one when he came next--for he was generally present every alternate year--it became necessary to move leon vincent's lectures from the hall of philosophy to the amphitheater, on account of the number who were eager to hear them. among those who gave readings were mr. charles f. underhill of new york, mr. george riddle, and professor r. l. cumnock. the methodists, both of the north and the south, have always formed a large element in the chautauqua constituency, partly because of their number throughout the continent, but also because both the founders of the assembly were members of that church. this year, , the methodist house was opened, in the center of the ground, and at once became the social rallying place of the denomination. its chapel, connected with the house, was built afterward by the all-year residents at chautauqua as the home of the community church, which is open to all and attended by all, the only church having a resident pastor and holding services through the year, nominally under the methodist system, but practically undenominational. in may, , dr. john h. vincent, after twenty years in charge of the sunday school work as secretary and editor, was elected and consecrated a bishop in the methodist episcopal church. for some years his episcopal residence was at buffalo, within easy distance of chautauqua, but his new duties required him to travel even more widely than before, and he needed an assistant to care for the work of the assembly. mr. george e. vincent, able son of distinguished father, was this year appointed vice-principal of instruction, and assumed a closer supervision of the program of chautauqua. in this year, also, dr. william rainey harper was made principal of the college of liberal arts, all the departments of the summer school being under his direction. another name appears on the record of , the name of alonzo a. stagg, haloed in the estimate of young chautauqua with a glory even surpassing that of the two founders. for stagg, just graduated from yale, could curve a baseball more marvelously than any other man in america. he was one of the instructors in the gymnasium, and organized a team that played with most of the baseball clubs for miles around chautauqua, almost invariably winning the game. it was said that the athletic field rivaled the amphitheater in its crowds when stagg played. chapter xvi a new leaf in luke's gospel ( - ) the assembly of opened on july d and continued fifty-five days, to august th. several new buildings had arisen since the last session. one was the anne m. kellogg memorial hall, built by mr. james h. kellogg of rochester, new york, in honor of his mother. in it were rooms for kindergarten, clay modeling, china painting, and a meeting place for the chautauqua w. c. t. u. it stood originally on the site of the present colonnade building, the business block, and was moved to its present location to make room for that building. mr. kellogg was an active worker in the sunday school movement and from the beginning a regular visitor at chautauqua. another building of this year was the one formerly known as the administration office, on clark avenue in front of the book-store and the old museum, now the information bureau and the school of expression. when the offices of the institution were removed to the colonnade, the old administration building was given up to business, and it is now known as a lunch-room. the school of physical culture, under dr. w. g. anderson, had grown to such an extent that a new gymnasium had become a necessity, and one had been erected on the lake-front. in the newer part of the grounds many private cottages arose, of more tasteful architecture than the older houses. [illustration: chautauqua woman's club house] [illustration: rustic bridge] a notable event of this season was the visit of former president rutherford b. hayes of ohio. among the lecturers of we find the name of mr. donald g. mitchell, whose _reveries of a bachelor_ and _dream-life_, published under the pseudonym of ik marvel, are recognized classics in american literature. other eminent men on the platform were professor hjalmar h. boyesen of columbia university, professor j. p. mahaffy of dublin university, dr. lyman abbott, dr. frank w. gunsaulus, dr. washington gladden, dr. john henry barrows, professor frederick starr, who could make anthropology interesting to those who had never studied it, professor herbert b. adams, and corporal tanner, the u. s. commissioner of pensions, a veteran who walked on two cork legs, but was able to stand up and give a heart-warming address to the old soldiers. dr. w. r. harper, who was teaching in the school of theology, gave a course of lectures on the hebrew prophets. bishop cyrus d. foss, one of the great preachers of the methodist episcopal church, delivered a sermon on one of the sundays. the south sent us an able lecturer in richard malcolm johnson. the orator on recognition day, of the class of ' , was dr. david swing of chicago, who spoke on "the beautiful and the useful." dr. russell h. conwell gave some lectures, abundant in their illustrative stories. i think that this was the year, but am not certain, when dr. conwell preached one sunday in the amphitheater a sermon of remarkable originality, listened to with the closest attention by his hearers, because he kept them guessing as to his subject until he was more than half-way through. he said in opening, "i will give my text at the end of the sermon, if i don't forget it; but i will tell you my subject. i am going to speak of a man whom our lord called the model church member." we all began wondering who that man was, but nobody could recall him. he said that this model man lived among the mountains, and spoke of the influence of surroundings upon character; then that where he lived there were two churches, one large, the other small, one aristocratic and popular, the other of the lower classes, despised; and that this man was a member of the church looked down upon; but these facts gave us no hint as to the model man's identity. he puzzled us once more by saying that this was a business man who had good credit, and we were still in the fog;--when did jesus ever talk about credit? then he told in graphic manner, making it seem as if it had happened the day before, the story of the good samaritan, and the problem was solved. but he astonished us again by saying, "there was one part of this story which for some reason st. luke left out of his gospel, and i am going to tell it now";--and of course everybody was eager to hear a brand-new bible story not found in the scriptures. he told that this man who had been robbed and beaten on the jericho road, after his recovery at the inn, went home to jerusalem, met his family, and then took his two boys up to the temple to return thanks for his restoration. the service in all its splendor was described. one boy said, "father, see that priest waving a censer! what a good man he must be!" but the man said, "my boy, don't look at that hypocrite! that is the very priest who left me to die beside the road!" after a few minutes, the younger boy said, "see that levite blowing a trumpet! he looks like a good man, doesn't he?" and the father said, "my boys, that is the very levite that passed me by when i was lying wounded! let us go away from this place." and then one of the boys said, "let us find the church of the good samaritan, and worship there." and dr. conwell added, "my text is, 'go thou and do likewise!'" no one who heard that sermon, so full of surprises, could ever forget it. the elocutionary readers who entertained us during that season were professor cumnock, a. p. burbank, george riddle, george w. cable, reading his own stories, and mr. leland powers of boston, with his rendering of _david copperfield_, several other stories, and a play or two. without the aid of costume or "making up," it was wonderful how he could change facial expression, and voice, and manner instantaneously with his successive characters. we saw mr. micawber transformed in an instant into uriah heep. from , mr. powers was a frequent visitor, and his rendering of novels and plays enraptured the throngs in the amphitheater. for many seasons he was wont to appear on alternate years. on old first night, when the call was made for those present on the successive years, while the regulars stood up and remained standing as each year was named, it was interesting to watch the down-sittings and uprisings of leland powers. but we shall hear his voice no more, for even while we are writing the news of his death comes to us. in this year, , the musical classes were organized as the chautauqua school of music, with instructors in all departments. inasmuch as all people do not enjoy the sound of a piano, practicing all day scales and exercises, a place was found in the rear of the grounds for a village of small cottages, some might call them "huts," each housing a piano for lessons and practice. i am told that forty-eight pianos may be heard there all sending out music at once, and each a different tune. the year brought another man to chautauqua who was well-beloved and will be long remembered, the pianist and teacher, william h. sherwood, who showed himself a true chautauquan by his willing, helpful spirit, no less than by his power on the piano. when death stilled those wondrous fingers, mr. sherwood's memory was honored by the sherwood memorial studios, dedicated in . when we realize that chautauqua is a city of frame-buildings, packed closely together on narrow streets, in the early years having exceedingly inadequate protection against fires, we almost wonder that it has never been overswept by a conflagration. from time to time there have been fires, most of them a benefit in clearing away old shacks of the camp-meeting strata; and one took place on a night during the season of . it swept away a row of small houses along the southwestern border of miller park, toward the land of palestine. their site was kept unoccupied, leaving a clear view of the lake, except on one corner where a handsome building was erected, the arcade. while the main entrance to the grounds was at the pier, this was a prosperous place of business, but after the back door became the front door, through the coming of the chautauqua traction company, giving railroad connection with the outside world, the business center of chautauqua shifted to streets up the hill. the year came, bringing the seventeenth session of the assembly. this was the year when the presbyterian house was opened, and also the c. l. s. c. building, erected by flood and vincent, for mr. george e. vincent was now a partner with dr. flood in publishing _the chautauquan magazine_ and the books of the c. l. s. c. subsequently the business of publication was assumed by the institution, and the building has been for many years the book-store, with rooms on the floor above for classes in the school of expression. an announcement in the program of the college of liberal arts was that a school of journalism would be conducted by hamilton wright mabie, essayist, and one of the editors of _the outlook_. leon h. vincent gave another course of literary lectures. dr. henry l. wayland of philadelphia was one of the speakers. john habberton, author of the "best seller" some years before, _helen's babies_, lectured, read, joined the c. l. s. c. class of , and was made its president. dr. francis e. clark, father of the christian endeavor society, came and was greeted by a host of young endeavorers. dr. alexander mckenzie of cambridge, mass., preached a great sermon. mr. robert j. burdette, at that time an editor, but afterwards a famous baptist preacher, gave one of his wisely-witty lectures. the hon. john jay, worthy son of one of new york's most distinguished families, gave an address. dr. fairbairn of oxford was again among us, with his deep lectures, yet clear as the waters of lake tahoe. the orator on recognition day was mrs. alice freeman palmer, whose term as president made wellesley great. mr. thomas nelson page gave readings from his own stories of southern life before the civil war. a young man appeared on the platform for the first time, but not the last, who was destined to stand forth in a few years as one of the foremost of americans. this was theodore roosevelt, whose lectures at chautauqua were later expanded into the volumes on _the winning of the west_. colonel thomas wentworth higginson, soldier and historian, also gave lectures. at the opening of the season in , the members of the chautauqua circle counted more than a hundred thousand. nine classes had been graduated, another large class was to receive its diplomas during that summer, and there were three undergraduate classes each of nearly twenty thousand members, with another class as large in prospect. only a small section of each class could be present at chautauqua, the vast majority of its members being far away, some in distant lands. but among those who came to the assembly, the social spirit was strong. they loved to meet each other, held social reunions and business meetings constantly. each of the four oldest classes, from ' to ' , had its own building as headquarters, but all the later classes were homeless and in need of homes. it was a great boon to these classes when at last, in , the c. l. s. c. alumni hall was completed and opened. its eight class-rooms were distributed by lot and furnished by the gifts of the members. as new classes were organized year after year, they were welcomed by the classes already occupying the rooms. it was not many years before each room became the home of two classes, then after eight years more of three classes, meeting on different days, but united in the general reception on the evening before the recognition day. beside the eight class-rooms on the second floor of the alumni building there is a large hall which is used before the recognition day by the graduating class, and during the rest of the season by the new entering class. in , after the death of miss kate f. kimball, secretary of the c. l. s. c, this hall was named "the kimball room." the alumni building with its wide porches became at chautauqua a social center for the members of the circle and many have been the friendships formed there. on this season of the united presbyterian house was opened. the section of the summer schools formerly known as the teachers' retreat, but now beginning to be called "the school of pedagogy," was this year ( ) under the direction of that master-teacher and inspiring leader, colonel francis w. parker of chicago. he gave several lectures on the principles of teaching, but many besides the teachers listened to them with equal interest and profit. one of these lectures was entitled, "the artisan and the artist"; the artisan representing those in every vocation of life who do their work by rule; the artist, those who pay little attention to regulations, but teach, or preach, or design buildings, or paint pictures out of their hearts; and these are the pestalozzis, the michael angelos, the beechers of their several professions. we had a course of delightful essay-lectures in the hall of philosophy by miss agnes repplier. the rabbi of the temple emanuel in new york, dr. gustave gottheil, gave some enlightening lectures upon the principles of the jewish faith. at that time a prominent roman catholic priest, the rev. edward mcglynn, was in rebellion against the hierarchy of his church, and maintaining a vigorous controversy in behalf of religious freedom. he had been dismissed from one of the largest churches in new york, and with voice and pen was denouncing the pope, cardinals, and bishops. father mcglynn came to chautauqua and delivered a powerful address in the amphitheater, pouring forth a torrent of language, shot as from a rapid-firing cannon. while at chautauqua he was entertained at a dinner in one of the cottages with a number of invited guests. from the moment of meeting at the table, he began to talk in his forceful manner, never stopping to take breath. dr. buckley was present and several times opened his mouth but found no chance to interject a word, which was an unusual state of affairs for one who generally led the conversation. [illustration: post-office building] [illustration: the business and administration building] another speaker who was heard with interest was jacob a. riis, with his illustrated lecture on "how the other half lives." mr. riis was only a newspaper reporter, not occupying an editorial chair, but theodore roosevelt spoke of him as "new york's most useful citizen." the cause of woman suffrage and reform had a splendid showing this season, for frances e. willard, anna howard shaw, susan b. anthony, and mary a. livermore, all spoke upon the amphitheater platform. a visitor who made many friends was rev. dr. percival, headmaster of rugby school. julia ward howe gave interesting reminiscences of longfellow, emerson, and other literary lights whom she had known intimately. john fiske, one of america's greatest historians, gave a course of lectures on the discovery and settlement of this continent. another historian whom we heard was john bach mcmaster, whose lectures were like a series of dissolving views, picture succeeding picture, each showing the great events and the great men of their period. in this year dr. horatio r. palmer assumed charge of the musical department, and for the first time waved his baton before the great chorus in the amphitheater gallery. as everybody knows, the four hundredth anniversary of the discovery of america was observed everywhere in . chautauqua commemorated it in lectures on columbus and his fellow-voyagers, and by a pageant presenting scenes from the history. the chautauqua class graduating that year was named the columbia class, and as its members, several hundred strong, marched in the procession, chancellor vincent was astonished to see in the line his wife, wearing the graduating badge of cardinal ribbon. she had read the course through four years and kept it a secret from him, revealed for the first time at that recognition service. the address on that day was delivered by dr. frank w. gunsaulus on "the ideal of culture." among the chief speakers in we find the names of two presidents of cornell university, dr. andrew d. white and dr. james g. schurman; dr. j. monro gibson, a london pastor and one of the board of counsel of the c. l. s. c. was with us; also ballington booth, henry watterson, the journalist, and president merrill e. gates of amherst college. at this session also the girls' club was organized and conducted by miss mary h. mather of wilmington, del. in the announcements of this year, the title of chautauqua university was allowed to lapse, and in place of it appeared "the chautauqua system of education." chapter xvii club life at chautauqua ( - ) when the chautauquans gathered for the twentieth assembly on july , , they found some changes had taken place. the old amphitheater, which had faithfully served its generation, but had fallen into decrepitude, no longer lifted its forest of wooden pillars over the ravine. in its place stood a new amphitheater, more roomy and far more suitable to the needs of the new day. it was covered by a trussed roof supported by steel columns standing around the building, so that from every seat was an unobstructed view of the platform. the choir-gallery was enlarged to provide seats for five hundred. the platform was brought further into the hall, making room for an orchestra. the seats were more comfortable, and could now hold without crowding fifty-six hundred people. a few years later, the old organ gave place to a greater and better one, the gift of the massey family of toronto, a memorial of their father, the late hart a. massey, one of the early trustees of the assembly. under the choir-loft and on either side of the organ, rooms were arranged for offices and classes in the department of music. during the previous season, , a men's club had been organized and had found temporary quarters. it now possessed a home on the shore of the lake, beside palestine park. in its rooms were games of various sorts, cards, however, being still under the ban at chautauqua.[ ] newspapers and periodicals, shower-baths, and an out-of-door parlor on the roof, very pleasant except on the days when the lake flies invaded it. the men's club building had formerly been the power house of the electrical plant, but one who had known it of old would scarcely recognize it as reconstructed, enlarged, and decorated. to make a place for the dynamo of the electric system, an encroachment had been made upon palestine park; a cave had been dug under mount lebanon, and the dynamo installed within its walls. the age of king hiram of tyre, who cut the cedars of lebanon for solomon's temple, and the age of edison, inventor of the electric light, were thus brought into incongruous juxtaposition. a chimney funnel on the summit of mount lebanon, it must be confessed, seemed out of place, and the valley of coele-syria, between lebanon and hermon, was entirely obliterated. bible students might shake their heads disapprovingly, but even sacred archæology must give way to the demands of civilization. an improvement less obvious to the eye, but more essential to health, was the installation of a complete sewer system. as the sewage is not allowed to taint the water of the lake, it is carried by pipes to a disposal plant at the lower end of the ground and chemically purified. the water rendered as clear as crystal is then permitted to run into the lake, while the sludge is pressed by machinery into cakes used as fertilizer. an artesian well on high ground supplies pure water in abundance, with taps at convenient places for families. originally the water in use came from wells. these were carefully tested by scientific experts, and most of them were condemned, but a few were found to give forth pure water and are still in use, though frequently and carefully tested. near the men's club is a spring of mineral water containing sulphur and iron. it has the approval of chemists and physicians, and many drink it for its healthful effect. one who looks over the programs of chautauqua through successive years will notice the number of the clubs for various classes and ages. largest of all is the woman's club, of which mrs. emily huntington miller was the first president, succeeded by mrs. b. t. vincent, and carried on under her leadership for many years. when on account of failing health mrs. vincent felt compelled to resign her office, her place was taken by mrs. percy v. pennybacker of texas, who had been president of the general federation of woman's clubs in the united states. this club includes more than two thousand members, and its daily meeting in the hall of philosophy brings together a throng, often too large for the building. in the club purchased a cottage fronting on the lake, near the hotel athenæum, as a headquarters, a place for social gatherings and rest rooms for women. besides the women's clubs and the men's club, there are at least a dozen other associations of people having tastes and interests bringing them together. we will name the most important of these without regard to their chronological order. there is the athletic club for men and boys over sixteen, directing the organized sports and providing all forms of out-of-door recreation. it has a club house on the lake with bowling alleys and boat room, shower baths and lockers, and a reading room. the golf club has a nine-hole course, situated on the rising ground of eighty acres opposite the traction station. the money has been contributed for a country club house, soon to be built at the entrance. the donors, it is understood, are mr. stephen j. munger of dallas, texas, one of the trustees, his wife, and mrs. frank b. wilcox of st. petersburg, florida, in memory of her husband. chautauquans of some years' standing will remember the old croquet ground, where now stands the colonnade, and the group of solemn gray-beards who used to frequent it and knock the balls through the big arches all day. no matter what popular lecturer was speaking in the amphitheater, the passer-by would find that same serious company. i used to pass them while going to my home and coming from it several times each day. on one occasion i stopped and struck up an acquaintance with a tall old gentleman who always wore a high hat and a long double-breasted coat. i learned that he was the president of a bank among the mountains of pennsylvania, and that he had come to chautauqua suffering from nervous prostration, making him utterly unable to do business and scarcely desiring to live. he passed the croquet court, sat down, and was invited to play. he began and found himself, for the first time in many months, actually interested in doing something. he began to enjoy his meals and to sleep at night. all that summer he played croquet, never listening to a lecture, and at the end of the season went home almost well. from that time croquet became more than his recreation, almost his business. he told me that there were others like himself who found health and a new enjoyment of life in the game. when the ground was needed for the new business block, the courts were removed to the ravine on the other side of the grounds, near the gymnasium. about that time croquet was developed into a more scientific game, a sort of billiardized croquet, with walls from which a ball would rebound, and arches a quarter of an inch--or is it only an eighth of an inch?--wider than the ball. to find a name for the new game they struck off the first and last letters, so that croquet became roque, and in due time the roque club arose, with a group of players who live and breathe and have their being for this game. people come from far, and i am told, to attend its tournaments at every season. there is also a quoit club meeting on the ground near higgins hall, beside the road leading up college hill. the young woman's club is for those over fifteen years of age, while the girl's club has its membership between eight and fifteen, meets in its own club house near the roque courts, and is enthusiastically sought by those no longer little girls, yet not quite young women. wherever one walks around chautauqua he is sure to see plenty of boys in blue sweaters bearing on their bosoms the monogram in big letters c. b. c, initials of the chautauqua boys' club. they too have their headquarters near the athletic field and find something doing there all day long. [illustration: sherwood memorial studios] [illustration: traction station] for the little ones, there is the kindergarten at kellogg hall, and out of doors beside it the playground, where the tots make cities out of sand and find other pleasures. and we must not forget the children's paradise, the completely equipped playground in the ravine at the northwestern part of the grounds. i remember hearing jacob a. riis, the father of the city playgrounds, say in one of his lectures: "they tell me that the boys play ball in the streets of new york and break windows when the ball goes out of the way. good! i hope they will break more windows until the city fixes up playgrounds for them!" jacob riis lived long enough to see at chautauqua one of the finest playgrounds, and to find in it one of the happiest crowds of children on the continent. one blessing for tired mothers at chautauqua is that their children are in safekeeping. they may be turned loose, for they can't get outside the fence, and in the clubs and playgrounds they are under the wisest and most friendly care. there are modern language clubs in french and spanish, with conversations, recitations, and songs in these languages. "no english spoken here," might be written over their doors, although nearly all their members elsewhere do their talking in the american patois. there was a german club, but it was suspended during the war, when german was an unpopular language and has not yet been reëstablished. the music club holds gatherings, in the sherwood music studios on college hill. there is a press club, composed of men and women who write books and articles for publication. they hold social receptions for acquaintance among wielders of the quill; perhaps it would be more accurate, though less classic, to say, "pounders of the typewriter." several times each season they have an "author's night," when well-known writers, some of them famous, read their own productions. there is a lawyers' club, a masonic club, and a grange club, the latter having its own building of greek architecture; also a college fraternity club of the wearers of sundry pins and keys. the bird and tree club has a large and representative membership of those interested in identifying and protecting the fauna, flora, and bird life of chautauqua and its vicinity. on the overlook, beyond the athletic field, they have established a herbarium for the preservation of the different forms of trees found on the ground. we must group together, begging pardon of the members, many other organizations, such as the w. c. t. u. all americans know, some of them to their cost, what those four letters stand for; the y. w. c. a., which has opened a hospitality house of welcome and rest on pratt avenue; the daughters of the american revolution, coming from every part of the land for gatherings at chautauqua; the order of the eastern star, whose secrets none but the initiated know; the college men's club, the college women's club, the ministers' club, and there used to be, perhaps is still, an octogenarians' club, whose members must swear to eighty years of life. the king's daughters and king's sons meet weekly at the pier buildings, and the chautauqua education council, made up of superintendents, principals and teachers, holds two regular sessions each week. if there are any more clubs, and their titles are sent to the author of this book, they will appear in the new edition, after the first hundred thousand copies are disposed of. but we are forgetting the title of this chapter and must name some of those who helped to make chautauqua successful during the quadrennium between ' and ' . in henry drummond repeated at chautauqua his lowell lectures in boston on "the ascent of man." there were still some old-fashioned "kiver to kiver" believers in the verbal inspiration of the bible who were alarmed to find an eminent christian leader accept so fully the conclusions of science; but the overwhelming sentiment of chautauqua was of rejoicing at his harmonizing the most evangelical religion with the most advanced scholarship. jane addams gave some lectures on modern problems of family and social life; edward eggleston, long before a leader of the sunday school army, by turns preacher, story-writer (his _hoosier school-master_ marked an epoch in american literature, say the critics) and historian, was with us once more after many years of absence. he said in an introduction, "i am glad to be again among sunday school workers, real crazy people, for i believe that nobody can be a first-class sunday school man unless he has a little crack in his head on that subject." frank g. carpenter, who had traveled in almost every land of earth, told us stories of his experiences and observations; kate douglas wiggin read charmingly some of her own stories; mr. john temple graves spoke in his fine rounded periods on some topics of the time; hon. roswell g. horr of michigan instructed while he entertained us. dr. a. j. palmer, who had thrilled the old soldiers with his "company d," now gave another lecture to them on "comrades." besides these we heard on the platform dr. philip s. moxom, professor george h. palmer of harvard, and his wife, alice freeman palmer; president harper, dr. von hoist; dr. conwell, and dr. joseph cook, returning to the platform with restored vigor after some years of nervous breakdown. miss willard was with us again, and with her lady henry somerset of england, the head of the w. c. t. u. in that land. in the department of elocution took a new title, "the school of expression," and enlarged its sphere under professor s. h. clark of the university of chicago, and mrs. emily m. bishop. the program of the years shows the school of political science to be remarkably strong, with such teachers as dr. herman von holst, herbert b. adams of johns hopkins, and another dr. adams of yale. professor graham taylor of chicago spoke on social questions, capital and labor. hon. theodore roosevelt, already rising to fame, was again on the platform. general james a. beaver, ex-governor of pennsylvania; professor richard g. moulton; hon. carroll d. wright, united states commissioner of labor; mr. anthony comstock, and dr. e. e. hale, chautauqua's strong friend, were some of the speakers. dr. hale, always original in his methods, said that he had only thirty minutes to speak on "poverty and pauperism." he began by saying, "i will stand on one side of this desk and speak fifteen minutes on poverty." he showed in seven points that every one of us belonged to the class named "poverty" and each one should help the others. then he walked over to the other side and gave seven points on "pauperism," for which there were reasons but no excuses. poverty was a blessing; most of the world's greatest benefactors have been poor men; but pauperism is an unmitigated evil and should be stamped out of existence. general o. o. howard, u. s. a., was again on the platform in , also president william h. crawford of allegheny college, whose lecture on "savonarola" made a deep impression. there was great interest to see and hear miss helen keller, the wonderful girl, blind, deaf, and dumb, who had learned to speak without hearing a voice, and had been graduated from radcliffe college of harvard university with the highest honor. another of the lecturers was mr. jahu dewitt miller, whose private talk was as good as his public lectures, which is high praise. the recognition day address this year was by dr. e. e. hale, on "the education of a prince," the prince being the poorest child living in america. it is worth remembering that a photograph of the procession on that day shows at the head of the flower-girl division--which now included boys, although the girls were still in the majority--two mites of children, one paul vincent harper, son of president harper, the other isabel vincent, the daughter of professor george e. vincent. those same children are now mr. and mrs. paul vincent harper of chicago, still walking together. in , the season extended through fifty-nine days, from june th to august th. two new buildings, besides many new cottages, were now upon the ground. one was the baptist headquarters on clark street, the other higgins hall on college hill, built by the gift of governor higgins of new york state. in the schools during this season strong emphasis was laid on the department of english, with such instructors as professor c. t. winchester of wesleyan, professor a. s. cook of yale, professor sherman of the university of nebraska, and professor lewis of the university of chicago. the last named gentleman bore a striking resemblance to the portraits of shakespeare; so that as he walked around (habitually without a hat on his head) everybody was struck with the likeness. i was told that when he sat down at shakespeare's traditional school-desk in stratford, a crowd gathered before the windows and the word was passed around "shakespeare has come to life again!" other speakers in were professor richard g. moulton, dr. josiah strong, president g. stanley hall, professor francis g. peabody of harvard, major j. b. pond, dr. john henry barrows, dr. edward everett hale, president harper, prof. john fiske, principal fairbairn, and the distinguished general of the confederate army, john b. gordon, senator from georgia. his lecture on "the last days of the confederacy," was one of the great occasions of the season, and it was noteworthy that many veterans of the g. a. r. were among the loudest in their applause when their foe of thirty years before came upon the platform. another event of the summer was the visit of governor william mckinley of ohio, a year before his nomination and election to the presidency. during this season also we were entertained with readings by professor s. h. clark, mr. will m. carleton, and miss ida benfey. in the year another movement was begun at chautauqua, which like the w. c. t. u. has swept over the entire continent and wrought mightily for the public welfare. at a kindergarten mothers' meeting during the session, mrs. theodore w. birney of georgia, gave an address urging a national congress of mothers, and her appeal awakened a prompt response. many of those who had listened to her carried her message to their own home-towns; mrs. birney at women's clubs and gatherings gave her plea over and over; and when the general federation of women's clubs held its convention in her native state of georgia she presented the proposition to the members. from that convention in , a call was issued for a national congress of mothers, to be held in the national capital. mrs. birney gave a year of tireless and wise preparation for the meeting, which began on february , . she was called to be president of the national congress, with miss mary louisa butler as organizing secretary. the work was aided by the wide-reaching influence and liberal gifts of mrs. phebe a. hearst, who has been rightly called the lady bountiful of the movement. out of this national congress grew the holding of state-congresses in every part of the country and the organization of local branches in almost every city. the congress of mothers now has its central office in washington, d. c. it is divided into twenty-five departments of work--such as americanization, child hygiene, child labor, education, mothers' circles, thrift, and many others, each having its chairman and plan of effective work. out of a meeting at chautauqua, in , has grown a nation-wide movement in aid of mothers and teachers. [illustration: arts and crafts building] [illustration: miller bell tower] in the schools were again reorganized under dr. harper's supervision. the school of fine arts and the new york summer institute for teachers were new departments, the latter under the direction of the regents of the new york state university. the school of sacred literature was increased in its faculty, having among them president harper, professor shailer mathews, and professor d. a. mcclenahan of the united presbyterian theological school. prominent among the lecturers this year were dr. george adam smith of scotland, dr. gunsaulus, rev. s. parkes cadman, dr. booker t. washington, rev. dr. george a. gordon, dr. charles f. aked, then of england, but soon to become an american, professor f. g. peabody, dr. nicholas murray butler, soon afterward the president of columbia university, and dr. russell h. conwell. a lady appeared on the platform whose experience had been unlike that of any other woman in the land. this was mrs. robert e. peary, who accompanied her husband on one of his north pole explorations and had a daughter born within the polar circle--"the snow baby," as she was called. she gave a lecture with stereopticon views descriptive of the life in the frozen north. another woman gave a lecture this year upon her travels in equatorial africa, miss jessie t. ackerman. president charles w. eliot of harvard university gave the oration on recognition day, his subject being "america's contribution to civilization." in looking through the list of the speakers on recognition day, i find the names of no less than ten college presidents, and also that of the hon. william t. harris, united states commissioner of education, who might be regarded as standing at the head of the nation's educational system. the value of chautauqua as a force in education has been fully recognized by the highest authorities. footnote: [ ] from the _handbook of information_ published by the chautauqua institution ( ) we give the following extract. "the chautauqua tradition which taboos card playing and social dancing, and the rule which forbids the sale or importation of alcoholic beverages, disclose the influence which dominated the early life of the assembly. as to card playing and dancing, the tradition is preserved not because all agree in condemning these things in themselves, but because they are deemed unsuitable to chautauqua conditions and even hostile to its life. it is believed that they would prove divisive and distracting, and that they suggest a very different type of society from that which chautauqua seeks to set up for a few summer weeks. chautauqua, therefore, disapproves these diversions as not only unnecessary, but as involving disintegrating influences. the fact that many who indulge in these amusements at home express gratification that they are not permitted at chautauqua is significant." chapter xviii rounding out the old century ( - ) the chautauqua session of was fifty-nine days long, from june th to august rd. this year the school of domestic science, directed by mrs. emma p. ewing, attracted attention. almost as many ladies whose cookery was accomplished by servants, as those who broiled their own steaks and baked their own puddings, met in mrs. ewing's model kitchen, learning to make bread, to prepare appetizing sauces and dressings, and to learn how to serve tables with refinement. i remember hearing one lady remark that until she had received mrs. ewing's instruction she had never really known how to make good bread. among those who gave lectures in , we find the names of anna howard shaw, ballington and maud booth, bishop (better known as chaplain) mccabe; quite a list of college presidents--goucher of baltimore, hyde of bowdoin, harper of chicago, john finley of new york, and g. stanley hall of clark; also professor graham taylor, mr. percy alden of england, and mr. jacob riis. a new reader of noble presence, rich voice, and rare dramatic power, recited on the platform of the amphitheater and assisted in the school of expression--mrs. bertha kunz baker, who was to entertain us through many years. professor clark gave readings; mr. george w. cable rendered a number of his own stories; mrs. jessie eldridge southwick and miss katherine oliver also gave recitals. after dr. vincent's election as bishop in , he found it increasingly difficult to supervise the ever-increasing work of chautauqua. often during the assembly season he would be compelled to hold conferences in the far west, and one year in south america. in , his episcopal residence was changed from buffalo to topeka, kansas, and in he was removed to zurich, switzerland, to take charge of methodist missions in europe. more and more he delegated the care of chautauqua to his son, who, one of the most popular of lecturers, was supreme in his ability as administrator. in professor george e. vincent was formally appointed principal of instruction, and very soon every department of chautauqua, both in its lecture platform and its educational work, felt the touch of a master hand. some of us oldsters who had loved chautauqua from its earliest years, had felt anxious for its future as we saw one of its founders called aside into other fields, and the other failing in strength, although we knew not how near was his earthly end. but we all had a sense of relief and confidence that the future of chautauqua was assured when we found "george" taking his father's place as executive in the department of instruction. the bishop retained the title of chancellor, however, as long as he lived. in a new building was erected on college hill--the hall of pedagogy. the report of the season's work showed that attendance had increased in the schools twenty-five per cent. over the last year, the advance being distributed quite evenly among the departments. by this time nearly all the universities and many of the colleges were holding summer schools, yet chautauqua, first in the field, was still leading in its membership. this year chautauqua received a visit from lord aberdeen, the governor-general of the dominion of canada, and his wife, the countess. americans are apt to look for a freezing dignity on the part of the higher nobility, and some were a little surprised to find the governor-general and his lady unreservedly approachable, and unaffectedly democratic in manner. some of those who gave lectures in were dr. richard t. ely of the university of wisconsin, president thirkield of atlanta, afterward bishop, dr. moulton, miss jane addams, hon. murat halstead, general john b. eaton, mr. leon h. vincent, bishop daniel a. goodsell, dr. j. h. barrows, president of oberlin, president faunce of brown, dr. robert mcintyre, also to become a bishop in due time, dr. charles e. jefferson of new york, dr. amory h. bradford of montclair, n. j., and mr. john kendrick bangs. mr. leland powers was with us on his biennial visit, and recitals were also rendered by mr. c. f. underhill, mr. john fox, miss isabel garghill, mr. will carleton, and miss ida benfey. up to that date, the season of was one of the most successful in chautauqua history. at this time, the _chautauquan magazine_, the organ of the c. l. s. c., and the _daily assembly herald_, were taken over by the trustees, and the _chautauqua press_ was established as the publishing agency for the periodicals and books of the c. l. s. c. mr. frank chapin bray was appointed editor. by birth and education he was a thorough chautauquan, having, as it were, grown up on the ground from early childhood and gone through all the courses from the children's class to the c. l. s. c. as a small boy he had sold the _assembly herald_; as a young man had written for its columns, and he is not the only journalist who took these steps upward to a literary career. the season of opened with a cloud hanging over chautauqua, bringing sorrow to one family and deepest sympathy from many. on february , , lewis miller died in a hospital in new york where he had been taken to undergo an operation from which he failed to rally. he was seventy years of age and had given his whole heart and the best of his life to chautauqua. but for lewis miller there would have been no chautauqua, though there might have been an assembly under some other name. he had chosen the place, had urged the location, and in its inception had aided in its plans, had supervised its business interests, and had contributed generously to its needs. at the opening of the "old first night" service in august, , the white lilies bloomed in his honor, but instead of being waved, were held in solemn stillness for a full minute, and then slowly lowered, and this memorial has been observed on every "old first night" since. the names of lewis miller and john h. vincent stand together in equal honor as the two founders of chautauqua. next to these founders we remember on "old first night" two of the vice-presidents of the board of trustees, the late francis h. root of buffalo, and clem. studebaker of south bend, indiana, both wise counsellors and generous givers to chautauqua. during the session of , theodore roosevelt was for the third time the guest of chautauqua. the war with spain had come and gone; he had been colonel of the rough riders, and was now governor of new york. one of those rough riders was young theodore miller, the son of the founder of chautauqua, and the only yale student to lay down his life in that campaign. his memory is preserved by the miller gate on the university campus. another governor was with us that summer, robert l. taylor of tennessee. the two brothers taylor were the heads respectively of the two political parties in their state, were candidates opposed to each other, stumped the state together, slept together every night, played the violin together at their meetings, and then after the concert, made their speeches against one another. the writer of these pages may claim a humble part in their careers, for both of them as boys, and also an older brother, were students under his teaching in and ' in pennington seminary, new jersey. we could tell some stories about those three taylor boys, but we refrain. i think that the republican taylor, alfred, is even now ( ) the governor of tennessee, as his brother was its democratic governor in . another visitor of about this date, though we are not certain of the precise year, was mr. horace fletcher, whose name is in the dictionary in the word "fletcherize," which means to count the chewing of each mouthful thirty times before swallowing it. we have tried some steaks in the early chautauquan days when fifty chews would hardly make an impression. he spoke on the platform, and the few who could hear him said that his talk was not about dietetics, but foreign politics, though the two words are somewhat alike and they may have misunderstood him. his fiftieth birthday came while he was at chautauqua, and he celebrated it by doing some amazing stunts, double somersaults, etc., into the lake at the diving place. i sat at the table next to his at the athenæum and noticed that he ate very slowly, but i could not count the chews on each mouthful. a lady at the same table told me that mr. fletcher eschewed coffee but put seven lumps of sugar in his tea, calmly observing that his "system needed sugar." i know some young people who have the same opinion concerning their own systems, if one may judge by the fate of a box of chocolates in their hands. in this year the school of religious teaching was reorganized, the department of sacred literature being conducted by chancellor wallace of toronto, and that of religious pedagogy, by dr. j. r. street. we may as well insert here the fact that for many years before, and during the seasons since that year, sunday school lessons were taught in the morning and a lecture given at the park of palestine in the afternoon by the author of this volume. the plan with the lessons has been to give every morning a preview of a coming sunday school topic, so that by the close of the season all the lessons for six months to come have been taught, and at palestine park to treat the geography of the land historically in a series of lectures. also, it should be remembered that every sunday of the chautauqua season, from the first year, a sunday school has been held in the morning, for all ages from youngest to oldest, the grades being taught in different places on the grounds by specialists in their several departments. for some years, if one strayed on sunday morning over palestine park, he might find a class of boys seated on the hills around nazareth listening to a lesson on the boyhood of jesus, and a group of girls looking down on the sea of galilee, while a teacher was telling stories of the tempest stilled and the five thousand fed. prominent upon the lecture platform in were prof. c. t. winchester, dr. charles e. jefferson, prof. john fiske, prof. a. b. hart, bishop c. b. galloway of the methodist episcopal church, south, president faunce, dr. george adam smith, dr. e. e. hale, and governor g. w. atkinson of west virginia. mr. john kendrick bangs was also on the platform with readings. the year rounded out a century, and one of its outstanding events at chautauqua was a course of lectures by principal fairbairn of oxford on "the nineteenth century." he asserted that in the ages to come, this hundred years will be looked upon as perhaps the greatest of all the centuries in the world's progress made during that period. he spoke in turn upon the historical, the political, the inventive, the literary, the religious, and the philosophic progress, giving without a written reminder names, dates, facts, processes of thought in the widest range. many regarded it as one of the ablest and most enlightening series of addresses that they had ever heard. [illustration: south gymnasium] among the new faces on the platform we saw dr. lincoln hulley, the new president of the john b. stetson university of florida, an exceedingly interesting speaker and a charming personality. we heard also mr. edward howard griggs in a series of lectures in the amphitheater, and an appreciative class also met him in the school. from until the present, mr. griggs has given us biennial courses, and on "old first night" his tall form rises and sits down as the record is made up for every alternate year. no lecturer on thoughtful subjects has more engagements or brings together larger audiences than mr. griggs. dean charles d. williams of trinity cathedral, and in a few years bishop (protestant episcopal) of detroit, an independent thinker and powerful preacher, welcomed both on the platform and in the pulpit many times since that appearance, his first among us. i think also that professor bliss perry of harvard spoke for the first time this season, also president benjamin ide wheeler. others who came as old friends were prof. moses coit tyler, president henry churchill king, dr. graham taylor, dr. cadman, mr. edward howard griggs, mrs. carrie chapman catt, miss susan b. anthony, and miss jane addams. i must not forget that this summer mr. francis wilson was with us again, and gave a lecture upon eugene field and his poetry, an appreciation inspired by friendship as well as literary insight. on a former visit to chautauqua francis wilson not only joined the c. l. s. c., but formed a reading circle in his dramatic company, directing their studies and holding their literary meetings in railroad stations, in hotel parlors, and in the green rooms of theaters, wherever they chanced to be when the meeting day arrived. on august , , the corner stone of the hall of christ, "aula christi," was laid. the address on that occasion was given by bishop james m. thoburn of india. bishop vincent was now living overseas in zurich, switzerland, and could not be present. the stone was laid by principal george e. vincent and a telegram from his father was read. this hall was one of the creations of bishop vincent's poetic mind. he aimed to make it a building not large, but beautiful, a sort of shrine, a chapel for meditation and prayer, a place of quiet, spiritual fellowship, not of class teaching, but of thoughtful addresses on themes directly relating to our lord. bishop vincent did not possess the genius for raising large sums of money for his conceptions; he shrank from pressing them upon rich men. another projector would have ventured boldly, demanded contributions and obtained them, to build the hall at once; but dr. vincent was delicate in speaking of it, though all knew his ardent desires for this ideal. the building grew slowly as gifts were received. begun in , it was not dedicated until . although no thought of his own honor in this building was in the founder's mind, yet to many it stands as his monument at chautauqua. most appropriately it is used as the center for the department of religious work, and daily lectures are given within its walls on biblical themes. as dr. george vincent was now an associate professor in the university of chicago, it became necessary for him to have some assistance in the management of the chautauqua program and platform. mr. scott brown was this year appointed general director and vice-principal of instruction. chapter xix opening the new century ( - ) the season of was the longest of any thus far, sixty days, from july st to august th. in the schools manual training was introduced under the direction of mr. henry j. baker, also a school of library training under the general guidance of mr. melvil dewey, at that time new york state librarian, and soon after made one of the chautauqua trustees. the resident director of this school was at first miss mary e. hazeltine of jamestown; later, and up to the present time, miss mary e. downey, of the utah state library. the growth of public libraries throughout the country has made this school very popular among young women seeking the profession of librarian. some voices new to chautauqua were heard from the amphitheater platform in , such as dr. o. p. gifford of the baptist church, captain richmond pearson hobson, mrs. l. ormiston chant of england, a descendant of the great edmund burke, we were informed, and the governor of new york, hon. benjamin b. odell. mr. joseph jefferson, whom all the world of that generation knew as "rip van winkle," gave a lecture showing the relations of the lecture platform and the stage. rev. john mcneill, whose speech showed that he came from the north of the tweed, preached a powerful and searching sermon. dr. robert stuart mcarthur gave a lecture on "mountain peaks in russian history." dr. hale, president crawford, mr. leland powers, dr. s. h. clark, dr. moulton, and mr. george w. bain were among the old chautauqua favorites of that season. as the c. l. s. c. class of had taken the name "the nineteenth century class," the one graduating this year was entitled "the twentieth century class." the speaker on recognition day was chancellor e. benjamin andrews of the university of nebraska, on the subject, "problems of greater america." the season of was noteworthy from a visit of bishop vincent. it seems strange to read of a _visit_ from the founder of chautauqua, but he was at that time living in zurich, switzerland, holding methodist conferences all over europe, in many languages through interpreters, and for several years had been absent from chautauqua. we of the older generation always missed his presence, but to the younger troop of chautauquans his was only a revered name. the vincent whom they knew, and packed the amphitheater to hear, was the director george e. vincent, the man at the wheel of chautauqua. this year the announcement was made that the chancellor was coming, and a royal welcome was prepared. a printed account of this event reads as follows: arriving at lakewood, the bishop was met by members of his family, and the board of trustees. after the welcome greetings, the party took a special steamer for chautauqua. at the pier a fleet of craft of all descriptions--launches, sail-boats, and row-boats--awaited the arrival of the bishop's steamer. as soon as it came within hailing distance, the larger boats dipped colors and all the people waved handkerchiefs, the chimes at the point rang in a familiar tune, and as the steamer headed toward the pier, the chautauqua choir, gathered in the balcony, sang the old chautauqua song, "join, o friends, in a memory song." as the boat came to the wharf, the bank and the park of palestine were a mass of waving handkerchiefs. the reception committee, composed of officials of the institution, stood on the pier, and back of them an immense throng all eager to catch a glimpse of their beloved leader. lines were formed on either side of the walk, and as the bishop passed between them he was greeted with the salute of the white handkerchiefs. in miller park were gathered the cottage owners, the summer schools, and the c. l. s. c. classes, with their banners and emblems, and the various clubs and children's classes. on the way to his cottage on lake avenue, the bishop was escorted by about two hundred and fifty members of the boys' and girls' clubs, whose sweet voices rang out clear and full in "auld lang syne." from the veranda of his tent cottage, the bishop made an eloquent address of appreciation, full of the joy of home-coming. in , bishop vincent was placed on the retired list, to dwell where he chose, free from episcopal service. from that year until , he passed a portion of each summer at chautauqua and took part in the program, but without the responsibility of supervision. most of the time he was happy in his release, but there would come occasional hours when he longed to hold the reins once more. in this year, , a new charter was received from the legislature of new york, giving a new title, "chautauqua institution." the girls' club and the unitarian house were built this season, also the disciples' headquarters on clark avenue received its pillared portico. the lutheran house was established during this season. senator mark hanna of ohio, who was looked upon as "the power behind the throne" during the presidency of his friend, william mckinley, spoke at chautauqua in , also mrs. pennybacker of texas, dr. a. e. dunning of boston, editor of the _congregationalist_, general john c. black of pennsylvania, dr. earl barnes, prof. charles zeublin, dr. w. f. oldham of india, afterward a bishop, and the ever-welcome frank beard who had been absent for a number of years. chautauqua has always believed in the open and free discussion of vexed questions, and this year from august th to august th was held a most interesting conference on "the labor movement." the introductory address opening the subject was given by the hon. carroll d. wright, u. s. commissioner of labor. supplementary lectures, followed by discussion, were by president harper on "the university and industrial education"; mr. frank p. sargent, "growth and influence of labor organizations"; mr. john mitchell, "the joint conference between employer and employee." on both sides there was the frankest expression of opinion. i remember that when one speaker was asked whether he was an actual worker or a professional agitator, without a word he held out his hands that all might see they were the hands of a working-man. this year was notable in the department of music, by the entrance of mr. alfred hallam as director. his whole-hearted, absolutely self-forgetting labor, and his reach after the highest standards in his art, from to , made mr. hallam dear not only to his choir, but to all chautauquans. the year was the twenty-fifth anniversary of the founding of the c. l. s. c. in . that event in popular education was commemorated by a great meeting in the amphitheater and the laying of the corner stone of a new hall of philosophy on the site of the old hall, which, being a wooden building, was decaying. the class of planted some ivy brought from the palatine hill in rome, other classes planted oak and pine trees. a sealed box, containing portraits of the founders and copies of chautauqua publications, was placed in the corner stone, which was then lowered into place and made secure with mortar, the trowel being handled in turn by dr. george vincent and director scott brown. as the stone was put in place, a cablegram was read from bishop vincent at helsingfors, finland--"remember the foundation is christ." vincent. this year, , the arts and crafts shops, which had been in various places over the ground, were brought together by the director, henry turner bailey, making the arts and crafts village, in later years to become the arts and crafts building. the grange building on simpson avenue was erected and presented as headquarters for that order by mr. cyrus w. jones of jamestown. this year, , dean percy h. boynton of the university of chicago was made secretary of instruction, and placed in full charge of the summer schools, which by this time had grown to more than two thousand students. a few years later he received the title of principal and gave to the summer schools his unremitting attention until . to dean boynton's careful choice of instructors and watchfulness over details of management during those years the growth and success of the schools is largely due. the liquor problem was the subject of the conference on august - , . i find on the list of speakers and their subjects eight names to which might be added five times as many who participated in the discussions. commander frederick booth-tucker and his wife emma booth-tucker, told of "the salvation army and the liquor problem." mr. raymond robins, an eminent social worker of chicago, spoke on "the saloon and the world of graft, vagrancy, and municipal correction," although it may have been "municipal corruption," for i think he spoke on both subjects. mrs. lillian m. n. stevens told of the work of the w. c. t. u.; prof. i. p. bishop showed "the physiological effects of alcohol," prof. frederick starr, the anthropologist, gave an interesting account of "stimulants among primitive peoples." other speakers were rev. e. c. dinwiddie, mr. frederick h. wines, and mrs. john g. woolley. [illustration: a corner of the playground] another conference was held august th to th on "the mob," and attracted the deepest interest. president william g. frost of berea college, kentucky, told of "the mountain feuds"; mr. john temple graves spoke in defense of lynching, and declared that the only solution of the negro problem in the south would be the enforced deportation of the negro back to africa; but other southerners present did not agree with him. dean richmond babbitt gave "a study of the lynch law"; mr. d. m. parry spoke on "the mob spirit in organized labor"; mr. thomas kidd on "the labor unions and the mob spirit." chief justice charles b. lore of delaware and judge john woodward gave "the legal aspects of the mob spirit." no discussion at chautauqua awakened such feeling, although it was carried on with perfect courtesy by speakers on the opposing sides. we can name only a few of the many lecturers in the regular program of . one was governor robert m. la follette of wisconsin, soon to attract attention as an insurgent in the united states senate. another was mr. george willis cooke, on social subjects. mr. hamlin garland, the story-writer, gave a lecture, also general john b. gordon of georgia, dr. richard burton, a course in literature; hon. wm. t. harris, dr. moulton, and the rev. r. j. campbell of london. the platform during the season was fairly crowded, the speakers and concerts following in such close succession. in , bishop vincent having been relieved from the cares of the episcopacy, went to live for a time in indianapolis. he was now able to come with more or less regularity to chautauqua, and gave the opening address of the season. the exercises of that year extended through sixty days beginning june th and ending august th. we note that the school of english included in its staff prof. richard g. moulton and edward howard griggs. the work in nature study was enlarged to include courses in botany and physiography. the courses for teachers embraced systematic work in all the grades from the kindergarten to the college. this year the new electric railway was opened from jamestown to chautauqua and thence to mayville and westfield on lake erie. bishop vincent was a passenger on the first car over the line. this improved means of transportation enabled people to come by rail every hour to chautauqua, gave direct and speedy connection with the new york central railroad, and resulted in making the principal entrance to the grounds no longer by water but by land. hence the crowds forsook the stores in the pier building and the arcade, and a new business center grew up on the hill. this year the new hall of philosophy was opened, of the same general plan as the old building, but with floor and pillars of concrete, a more durable material. the building was also somewhat larger than its predecessor and was in every way more convenient. in the concrete floor are inserted tablets in honor of the classes that contributed toward the building. the pillars also bear the names of their givers. the list of exercises in the hall during any assembly season would of itself make a long catalogue. the devotional hour had now become a systematic order and called together large congregations. it was not altogether the fame of the great preachers, but also the strong religious atmosphere of the place that gathered every day at ten o'clock for five mornings of each week a thousand people for worship. how many churches could show a congregation as large, not only on sundays, when the service was attended by five thousand people, but through the days of the week? among the chaplains of this season, each serving a week, were dr. s. parkes cadman, dr. hugh black, bishop oldham, dr. daniel dorchester of pittsburgh, and the evangelist, dr. j. wilbur chapman. the conference of was from july th to th on the subject of missions, home and foreign. among the speakers were dr. francis e. clark of the christian endeavor movement, recently returned from an all-around the world visit to missions abroad, dr. frederick g. stanley, dr. george m. boynton, dr. homer stuntz from the philippines--afterward a bishop of the methodist episcopal church--bishop oldham, and mr. j. l. joslin of india. i remember hearing dr. stuntz tell of a native filipino who came to him soon after the american occupation of manila, and after carefully closing the door, and looking in closets to be sure that no one was in hearing, carefully unrolled a package, showed a small bible in the spanish language, and asked: "would it be safe for me to be found reading this book? i have kept it hidden for years, for my life would have been the penalty if it had been seen." dr. stuntz led him to a window, pointed to the american flag flying over the castle, and said; "do you see that flag? as long as that flag flutters over these islands, you can stand in the market place and read in as loud a voice as you choose out of this book and you will be safe. wherever that flag flies, the bible is an open book!" most of the men whom we have named gave lectures, as well as participating in the conferences. besides these, we saw on the platform the massive form of william howard taft, then secretary of war, after a few years to be president of the united states; mr. griggs also gave a course of lectures and taught classes in literature, and prof. frederick starr was one of the speakers. dr. george adam smith of scotland was also with us during the season of . some of the recitations this year were by dr. s. h. clark, mrs. bertha kunz baker, mrs. emily m. bishop, miss marie l. shedlock, and prof. henry l. southwick. chapter xx president roosevelt at chautauqua ( - ) the notable event in the assembly of was the fourth visit of theodore roosevelt. he was the president of the united states, not now by succession, but by direct vote of the people, for his first term, after the death of mr. mckinley, had been completed. he had promised to maintain his predecessor's policies during the period for which mr. mckinley had been elected, and through that term he had initiated no new movements. but his pledge having been kept and his administration ratified by the popular vote, mr. roosevelt was now free to bring forward his own plans. his address at chautauqua on august th, five months after his inauguration, was the first public announcement of his principles and policies, and in its boldness, its candor, and its originality was fairly startling. mr. mckinley was a cordial, but a reticent party leader. everyone who talked with him was charmed, but no one could recall any definite promise or statement that he had made. mr. roosevelt was absolutely, unreservedly open; he would state to anybody his opinion on every public question. lyman abbott once said, "mr. mckinley and mr. roosevelt were both great men and great statesmen, but between the absolute reticence of the one and the absolutely openness of the other, there is no half-way house." the presidential party included his son kermit, his nephew paul roosevelt, his cousin philip roosevelt, mr. jacob a. riis, and a number of leading politicians, besides secret service men, and the inevitable troop of newspaper reporters. they were met at lakewood by bishop vincent, his son the principal, and representatives of the chautauqua board. a breakfast was served to the party and to some invited guests in higgins hall. i sat beside a prominent politician who said to me that on the train and boat he was absolutely amazed at the knowledge of president roosevelt upon every subject, and his readiness to state his views upon even the deepest matters of state. at the table i noticed dr. james m. buckley sitting beside the president and in earnest conversation with him. as we passed out of the hall, i mentioned to dr. buckley what the public man had told me of mr. roosevelt's outspoken candor, and dr. buckley said that the president had answered every question in utter frankness, evidently having nothing to conceal; and dr. buckley could ask searching questions. the adage, "it sometimes rains at chautauqua," was verified that day by a steady downpour, which with the umbrellas lifted over the moving procession made every avenue, seen from an upper balcony, look like an endless serpent with a series of bulging black knobs on his back. no words can express the jam of people in and around the amphitheater and the breathless interest with which all listened to the president's address, which came like a revelation, with its outspoken utterances upon subjects hitherto held as state secrets. he talked of our relations with nations abroad, and of problems at home, the trusts, questions of capital and labor, and, indeed, every subject under discussion at that time. a statesman once said, "language was invented to conceal thought," but that was certainly not the use of language by one eminent american. as mr. roosevelt was leaving the amphitheater, he saw the boys' club standing together, on guard, and he gave them a short, appreciative, practical speech. some of the speakers at the assembly of were district attorney william travers jerome of new york, governor joseph w. folk of missouri, the hon. robert watchorn, commissioner of immigration, president charles cuthbert hall of the union theological seminary of new york, recently home from giving addresses in india and china under the auspices of the parliament of religion, president rush rhees of the university of rochester, president herbert welch of ohio wesleyan, dean charles d. williams--on his next visit to be a bishop--and dr. richard burton. mrs. bertha kunz baker, dr. s. h. clark, mr. leland powers, and others entertained us with readings and impersonations; but it should also be said that the leading elocutionists at chautauqua made it a large part of their task to acquaint us with great literature, both in poetry, in prose, and especially in the drama. in the colonnade building was built and became the business center of chautauqua. during this season mr. scott brown, the general director under principal george e. vincent, called into the service of the chautauqua institution, as assistant, a young man to become in a few years his successor, mr. arthur e. bestor. mr. bestor also began lecturing upon the platform in a course on "studies in american diplomacy." in the report of the year , i notice a custom that is mentioned for the first time this year, though it may have been observed before. on the opening night, june , signal fires were lighted at prominent points around the lake, notifying the summer residents, whose cottages by this year were girdling lake chautauqua, that the assembly had now begun for another season. this illumination has been followed every year since , and appropriately gives notice to every village between mayville and jamestown that the light of chautauqua has begun to shine. the program of july we find as full as that of august. during the earlier month were lectures and addresses by professor f. hyatt smith on "eminent englishmen of the nineteenth century"--coleridge, macaulay, carlyle, matthew arnold, and others; literary lectures by leon h. vincent, who was now "doctor of letters," mr. henry turner bailey, head of the arts and crafts, but lecturer on many subjects; newell dwight hillis of plymouth church, brooklyn; dr. w. j. dawson, an english preacher and author who had lately come to live in america, equally great in the pulpit and in literature; dr. s. c. schmucker, one who could make a scientific subject plain to the lay-mind; dr. john t. mcfarland, head of the sunday school work of the methodist episcopal church; mrs. donald mclean, president-general of the daughters of the american revolution, and other speakers. during august a most interesting course of lectures was given by mr. john graham brooks on "america viewed by outside people"--showing how the estimates of our country, especially by english writers, had arisen from almost contemptuous criticism (much of it deserved, it must be admitted) to high appreciation. mr. griggs gave a new course of literary lectures. bishop vincent gave a lecture on martin luther. prof. cecil f. lavell spoke on historical subjects. sir chentung lieng chang, the ambassador from china, graduate of an american college, amherst, i think--was a visitor and spoke in excellent english. prof. edward a. steiner, the great authority on immigration, lectured on "our foreign population," and told a remarkable story of a journey that he had made through underground russia, visiting nearly a hundred revolutionary centers. mr. ernest thompson seton talked on wild animals, to the enjoyment of both young and old. on recognition day of the c. l. s. c., august , , the new hall of philosophy was dedicated. in professor george e. vincent was made president of the chautauqua institution. his father retained the title of chancellor, but the active duties of the management were now entirely in the hands of the president. in the following year, mr. arthur e. bestor was advanced to the place formerly held by mr. scott brown, that of senior director in charge of all business administrations and assisting president vincent on the educational side. a man who made his mark deeply on chautauqua came this year for the first time, mr. henry turner bailey of the arts and crafts school. he could not only teach, but could lecture on art or history in a most fascinating manner, all the time drawing pictures on the blackboard with both hands at once. under his care the arts and crafts shops were assembled, grew into a village, and later found their home in a series of fine buildings on college hill. he continued with us year after year until a new position in cleveland, ohio, compelled him to sever relations with chautauqua. two great conferences were held this summer. the first was on "the juvenile problem," july th- th. speakers on the subject were rev. w. byron forbush on "the knights of king arthur," an order of which he was the founder; mr. w. r. george, on "the george junior republic"; judge ben b. lindsey of denver on "the juvenile court." mr. melvil dewey, rev. crawford jackson, judge willis brown and mr. e. b. degrott spoke on "public playgrounds," "the public library," "the child and the state," and kindred subjects. the other conference was held july th to august d, on "the social unrest." a few of the speakers and their topics were: mr. john graham brooks on "the challenge of socialism"; mr. james wadsworth, jr., afterward u. s. senator from new york, on "politics"; mr. r. r. bowker on "the corporation"; mr. henry clews on "capital"; mr. j. g. phelps stokes and his wife, rose pastor stokes, on "a defense of socialism"; bishop henry c. potter, "the church"; mr. charles stelzle, "the church and the classes"; miss jane addams on "the settlement movement." on the regular lecture platform appeared governor charles e. hughes of new york, mr. william jennings bryan who had just returned from a trip around the world and spoke on "the old world and its ways," president g. stanley hall a series on "five non-christian religions," president george e. vincent on "utopias," a series describing the ideals of men for the community and the state from plato's _republic_ to the community of robert dale owen. bishop vincent also gave a lecture, the father and the son speaking on different days from the same platform. my recollection is that the bishop spoke this summer on "sidney lanier and his poetry," and placed him high on the roll of american poets. another lecturer who pleased us all was the bright essayist, samuel mcchord crothers. his paper on "the society for polite unlearning" was heard by a crowd in the hall of philosophy. most of the audience caught the undertone of wisdom with the wit, but a few thought that it was only funny, in which they were mistaken. dr. shailer mathews, dr. c. f. aked, and bishop mcdowell were among those who conducted the daily devotional services. grand army day was a dramatic occasion in the fact that before an audience of old union soldiers, in their g. a. r. uniforms, the address was given by mrs. lasalle corbell pickett, the widow of general george edward pickett of the confederate army, who led the famous "pickett's charge" in the battle of gettysburg--an attack that stands in history beside the "charge of the light brigade," sung by tennyson. her story of that great day, deciding the destiny of a continent, was listened to, not merely with interest, but with outbreaking enthusiasm by an audience of union soldiers, who honored the memory of a soldier whom they looked upon less as a foe than as a hero. one little incident told by mrs. pickett we must make room for; in substance it was this: on lee's march through pennsylvania, pickett's division passed a young girl who waved a united states flag, and then, fastening it around her waist, cried, "traitors! come and touch this flag if you dare!" at this fierce challenge, a mingled stir of many voices went through the long gray ranks and many a rifle shifted uneasily. general pickett rode in front of his men, and with true southern chivalry saluted her flag. then he turned and faced his men. the soldiers followed his example, and as they passed by, every hat was swung aloft in honor of the girl and her flag. the little maiden was so overcome by this generosity that she cried out, "i wish i had a rebel flag; i'd wave that too!" in october, , the colonnade building, which had been standing only two years, was wholly destroyed by fire, causing a loss of $ , , with an insurance of about $ , . the indirect loss is not easy to estimate, for it included the contents of the stores and the issues of the magazine ready for mailing, with much other printed matter of the institution. this was the fourth fire which had occurred during the thirty-four years of chautauqua; a remarkable record when one remembers how close together are many of the houses, and all built of wood. plans for rebuilding the colonnade were taken up immediately, also the beginning of a quadrangle of buildings for the arts and crafts department and the erection of a post office building. in the july program included the names of professor j. e. mcfadyen of knox college, toronto, principal james robertson of scotland, and dr. w. l. watkinson of england; all these in the department of religious work, which was unusually strong that year. dr. watkinson looked the least like an englishman that could be imagined. long and lank and lean, he might have been taken for a yankee of the yankees, until he began to speak. his oratory is indescribable, original thoughts expressed in original language, with here and there a solemn witticism at which the hearer wanted to laugh but hardly dared to. bishop vincent gave a lecture on "an old school house." dr. h. w. wiley, the food specialist and foe of misbranded packages of food, gave an address. norman hapgood of _collier's magazine_, hon. everett colby of new jersey, a leader in political reform, prof. graham taylor, a sociologist and social reformer, were among the speakers. in august of , a notable english lady spoke on the amphitheater platform, mrs. philip snowden, wife of a member of parliament. it was said that her husband owed his election to her power of public speaking, and especially to her skill in answering "heckling" questions--a political method quite common in england, though regarded as not quite proper in america. in our country when one party holds a meeting, it is not considered fair to interrupt the flow of oratory and disconcert the orator by disagreeable questions from the other side; but in great britain every political speaker must face such enquirers, and the one who put them to little mrs. snowden generally got the worst of the encounter. though slight and seemingly fragile, speaking apparently without effort, every syllable of her speeches on the question of woman's enfranchisement could be distinctly heard from every seat in the amphitheater. other speakers in august, , were lieut.-governor chanler of new york, edward howard griggs, prof. charles m. cobern, an authority on biblical archæology, dr. leon h. vincent in a course on "french literary celebrities," president j. d. moffatt of washington and jefferson college, pennsylvania, charles stelzle on social rights and wrongs, and george riddle in some enjoyable recitations. percy alden, m.p., spoke on "social and economic questions" in england and charles f. lavell gave a course on historical lectures. dr. r. s. macarthur and dr. j. wilbur chapman were among the preachers and leaders of the devotional hour. august , , was pennsylvania day, with addresses in praise of the keystone state by governor e. g. stuart, ex-governor and general j. a. beaver, and others. chapter xxi the pageant of the past ( - ) the thirty-sixth session of chautauqua was epoch making in the development of material resources. the blackened ruins of the burned colonnade building were replaced by a new structure, the official headquarters of the institution, the business center, and on its upper floor a rooming place for many employees in the offices. on the southern front of the plaza arose the new post office building, with the village public library, the presses and office of the _chautauqua press_. the first section of the projected arts and crafts quadrangle was built, to the great joy of mr. bailey, who had labored and almost fought for its construction. the hall of pedagogy arose at one end of the grounds and the athletic club house at the other. the hall of the christ was completed after many years of slow growth, and the commons, a boarding-place for students, was opened through all the year for employees residing during the winter. as a venture, with some questioning, the new york symphony orchestra was engaged for a week of concerts, its leader being walter damrosch. who would have dreamed in that in the same orchestra would sound its harmonies through six full weeks! the keynote of the year, and indeed of chautauqua through all its history, was expressed in president george e. vincent's utterance in his annual report--that chautauqua must "be kept in close and sympathetic connection with the great currents of national life. it must be a center from which the larger and more significant movements may gain strength and intelligent support." the season this year opened on friday, july d, with a lecture by president vincent on "vocation and culture." to even name the speakers of the year and their subjects would necessitate the enlargement of our book, and to omit any of them may bring the author into peril of his life if he should meet any of those left out; but he must face the prospect of a martyr's end, by naming only a few. president edwin earle sparks, of the pennsylvania state college, gave a series of lectures on american history; prof. archer b. hulbert on "the military conquest of the alleghanies"; prof. stockton axson on "literary leaders"; dr. andrew sloan draper, superintendent of education for new york state, spoke, also prof. george albert coe, prof. clyde w. votaw, and dr. richard m. hodge--these four on subjects relating to education; mr. earl barnes gave a course of lectures, besides teaching in the schools; booker t. washington, president frank r. sanders, dr. p. s. henson, prof. henry f. cope, mr. ernest hamlin abbott, of _the outlook_, and many more were with us in july, . in august we heard prof. richard burton in a course of literary lectures; dr. george adam smith, richard g. moulton, and j. m. thoburn, jr., a nephew of bishop thoburn, also bishop samuel fallows of the reformed episcopal church, and the rev. samuel a. eliot, a son of the harvard president. mr. s. s. mcclure gave an offhand conversational address on "the making of a magazine," the story of his own experience. the devotional hour was by this year firmly fixed in the chautauqua system. the chaplain preached on sunday morning, at the great amphitheater service, and at ten o'clock for five days following gave an address on some religious topic. among our chaplains during the season of were dr. charles e. jefferson of new york, prof. herbert l. willett of the university of chicago, president herbert welch, and dr. r. h. conwell. the recognition address to the graduating class of the c. l. s. c. was by president faunce of brown university on "ideals of modern education." this year a course in esperanto, the proposed world-language, was conducted, and the second esperanto congress of america was held at chautauqua. not having studied the language and being too busy to attend the convention, the writer is unable to state whether the lectures were given in that tongue or in english, the inferior language which esperanto is expected to displace. probably two or three hundred years hence shakespeare's plays, milton's poems, and mark twain's stories will be known only in that language, english being a quarry for archæological research with about as many students as greek or sanscrit has to-day. an event of which attracted crowds from all chautauqua county and its surroundings was the historical pageant of scenes in the history of chautauqua lake. it included scenes from the indian wars before the revolution, the french explorers, the british and american soldiers of the revolutionary period, and the settlement of the shores. this was followed by the rendition of a play, _the little father of the wilderness_, by francis wilson and his company. the concerts of the preceding year by the new york symphony orchestra, under walter damrosch, had been so successful that the management brought them for a second visit in . one distinguished visitor in was the right honorable james bryce, ambassador of great britain to our country. his lecture was on "history and politics." dr. s. m. crothers gave four lectures in his own inimitable manner on "the one hundred worst books." he proposed as an interesting question, "suppose that twenty centuries hence, when the english language may be as dead as latin and greek are now, what authors in english literature will be remembered?" director bestor found time in the midst of his labors to give us a fine lecture on "gladstone." paul vincent harper, son of president harper, spoke on "life in palestine" after a visit to that land. dr. griggs gave a course on "social progress." distinguished visitors from the old country were sir william ramsay, the highest authority in the english-speaking world on the church in the new testament age, and lady ramsay. both lectured, lady ramsay on "the women of turkey." mrs. philip snowden gave another course of lectures, maintaining fully her popularity. she was strongly in favor of the suffrage for women but as strongly opposed to the methods of the militant suffragettes. another speaker who attracted attention, although his views were not accepted by the majority at chautauqua, was the secretary of the american federation of labor, mr. john b. lennon. on the questions pertaining to trade unions and collective bargaining, however, one who talked with the chautauqua constituency was surprised to find so large a number of progressive thinkers taking the side of labor against capital. the chautauqua devotional hour was represented in the season of by dr. hugh black, dr. j. wilbur chapman, dr. g. a. johnston ross, and charles d. williams, who was now bishop of michigan. it has been found that many are eager to enjoy the advantages of the summer schools at chautauqua who are unable to meet the expense. to aid these, various gifts have been made from time to time. on old first night in a system of fifty annual scholarships was established by setting apart the offering of that evening for this purpose, and the fund has since been increased from year to year. in , the miller bell tower at the point beside the pier was dedicated. for years the chime of meneely bells had stood in the belfry of the old building on the pier. but the piles beneath it were becoming decayed and the bells by their weight and their movement racked the old edifice. their removal was necessary and the tower was built adjoining the wharf. a fine clock presented by the seth thomas clock company, and the chimes, were placed in the summit of the tower which received the name "lewis miller bell tower." these bells ring five minutes before the lecture hours, and at certain times, morning, noon, and night, the chimes play familiar music. after the night bell, which may be either at or . , silence is supposed to reign throughout the grounds. one of the original peal of four bells, afterward enlarged to form the chime of ten bells, is named the bryant bell, and is rung precisely at twelve o'clock noon on the first day of october as a signal for beginning the readings of the chautauqua circle. the name is in honor of william cullen bryant, in recognition of his interest in the c. l. s. c. during the season of a number of illustrated lectures were given by prof. r. w. moore on "the rhine"; by c. l. harrington on "aerial navigation,"--a lecture fully up to date at that time, surprising to many who heard it and looked at the pictures. but that was before the great war, and the same lecture would be hopelessly behind the times in . mr. henry turner bailey showed us "a dozen masterpieces of painting," and mr. jacob a. riis, "the making of an american," dr. henry r. rose exhibited "the oberammergau passion play," and dr. h. h. powers, "venice." both president george e. vincent and director arthur e. bestor gave lectures; also edmund vance cooke and mr. earl barnes, mr. leland powers impersonated stories and plays as nobody else could. mr. frank a. vanderlip gave three lectures on "banking," which proved far more interesting than most of us had anticipated. dr. h. h. powers told in a series of lectures the stories of five great cities, athens, rome, florence, paris, and london. dr. gunsaulus gave a series of lectures on "some of the great plays of shakespeare"; prof. s. c. schmucker, a series mingling science with history on "american students of nature,--audubon, agassiz, gray and thoreau." dean george hodges in the department of religion lectured in a course on "christian social betterment." among the chaplains of are the names of bishop e. e. hoss of the methodist episcopal church, south, dr. john t. stone of chicago, dr. shailer mathews, also of chicago, dr. c. f. aked, then a pastor in san francisco, and rev. silvester horne of england. the baccalaureate sermon before the c. l. s. c. was this year given by the chancellor, bishop vincent. for twenty-two years william h. sherwood was head of the piano department in the schools and untiring in his labors. he died in , and in the sherwood memorial studio on college hill was opened and dedicated to his memory. a hospital, long needed, was this year established, named "the lodge." the department of religious work was reorganized, made more prominent, and placed under the charge of dean shailer mathews as "director of religious work." the headquarters of this department were established in the hall of christ. the independence day address was given by director bestor on "the old world and the new," the social, political, municipal, religious conception on the two sides of the atlantic. two stories from his lectures are worthy of being repeated. one was theodore roosevelt's retort when accused of wanting to become a king. "a king! what is a king? why, a kind of perpetual vice-president." the other was a conversation that mr. bestor had with an englishman whom he met in berlin. he asked "what would you do in england if the royal line should develop a william ii. or a roosevelt?" the englishman answered, "impossible! a man with any real political initiative is not to be thought of in the english kingship!" for the first time, partisan political addresses were given on the chautauqua platform. this was the year, it will be remembered, when mr. taft had been renominated by the regular republican convention, mr. roosevelt by the bolting progressives, and woodrow wilson by the democrats. it was decided to allow each of the parties to be represented. attorney-general wickersham spoke in behalf of the republicans. mr. eugene w. chafin, the candidate of the prohibition party, addressed a crowded amphitheater, and seemed to give everybody great enjoyment from the constant laughter and applause. he said after the election that if everybody who applauded and cheered his speeches had voted for him, he would have been president! but the great audience assembled, packing the amphitheater to its utmost corner, with a great ring of people standing around it, to hear william jennings bryan. on account of an afternoon lecture in ohio, he sent word that he could not arrive until . in the evening, and it was nine when at last he stood on the platform. but he held the crowd in rapt attention to the end of his plea in behalf of the democratic party and its candidate, who was indebted to mr. bryan more than to any other worker for his nomination and, as the result showed, for his election. i am not certain who spoke in behalf of mr. roosevelt, but think that it was mr. william h. prendergast, comptroller of new york city. among the lecturers of we heard the baroness von suttner, who had taken the nobel peace prize by her book _lay down your arms_. she gave a strong plea for arbitration between nations, to take the place of war. there was also a lecture by david starr jordan, president of leland stanford university, on "the case against war," showing conclusively that the day of wars was past and that the financial interrelations of nations would make a great war impossible. how little we dreamed of the war-cloud within two years to drench the whole world in blood! there was, indeed, one warning voice at this assembly, that of mr. h. h. powers, in his clear-sighted lecture on "international problems in europe." he did not predict war, but he showed from what causes a great war might arise. there was a debate on woman suffrage. mrs. ida husted harper gave several lectures in its behalf, and miss alice hill chittenden on "the case against suffrage." professor scott nearing gave a course of lectures on social questions, showing powerfully the evils of the time, and setting forth his view of the remedy,--a socialistic reorganization of the state and of society in general. some conservative people who heard scott nearing lecture, regarded him as a firebrand, in danger of burning up the national temple, but those who met him in social life were compelled to yield to the charm of his personal attractiveness. dr. leon h. vincent gave a course of lectures on "contemporary english novelists." he began in the hall of philosophy, but was compelled to move into the amphitheater. mr. charles d. coburn of the coburn players gave a careful, critical address, summing up fairly the good and evil, on "the drama and the present day theater." the daily devotional service in the amphitheater, and the addresses on "the awakened church," in the hall of christ, one at nine o'clock, the other at ten, drew large congregations. it could not be said that chautauqua was losing interest in religion, canon h. j. cody of toronto gave a series of talks on "bible portraits of persons we know: , the average man; , the man in the street; , the man who misapplies the past; , the man who is dying of things"; prof. francis s. peabody of harvard a series on "christian life in the modern world." bishop mcdowell (methodist) conducted the hour for a week to the great spiritual uplift of the large audience. dr. shailer mathews gave an interesting series on "the conversations of jesus," dr. james a. francis a course on "evangelism." realizing how many worthy names i have omitted, i close regretfully the record of chautauqua in . chapter xxii war clouds and war drums ( - ) there have been visitors at chautauqua who, listening to some of the lecturers and their radical expressions, were alarmed and inclined to believe that the woods were full of cranks, faultfinders of the general social order, wild agitators, and revolutionary reformers bent on reorganizing the world. chautauqua has always favored the freest discussion of all subjects and has admitted to its platform spokesmen upon all the questions of the time and from every point of view, even some unpopular men airing their unpopular ideas, confident that in the conflict of opinions the right will triumph. in the living question under discussion was socialism; what it means, its positive aims and the arguments both for and against it. here are the names of some speakers on that controverted subject. professor scott nearing, perhaps the most radical of any, spoke on "social sanity," although his conception of sanity was looked upon by many as absolutely insane. mr. j. w. bengough explained and advocated "the single tax" and almost converted some of us to his doctrine. mrs. rose pastor stokes, a most winsome speaker, without opinion as to her views, told us of "the socialist's attitude towards charity," which was that much denominated charity is simple justice. mr. victor l. berger of milwaukee, who has several times been denied a seat in congress to which he was elected on the socialist ticket, stated the views and demands of his party. dr. h. h. powers spoke on "present day socialism in europe," john mitchell gave us "the trades-union point of view." earl barnes took part in the discussion, and dr. charles r. henderson of chicago also touched upon it. some speakers were openly for, others as strongly against the movement. whether the socialist party gained voters may be doubted, but it certainly enjoyed a full and fair hearing. turning from politics to religion, which should have a more intimate friendship than most people give them, we notice the devotional hour during the season of . the chaplain for the first week was dr. charles f. wishart of the pittsburgh theological seminary, his addresses being on "the christian view of some facts of life." dr. lynn harold hough, then a methodist pastor in baltimore, and rev. arthur c. hill of london were on the list. dr. s. m. crothers of cambridge, mass., preached one sunday and conducted the devotional hour a week in a series on "gaining the mastery." bishop williams was on the platform again, speaking on "aspects of personal religion." anyone who attended this service through the season--and the daily congregation was not far below a thousand--would obtain a pretty clear understanding of christianity and the character of its advocates. every year the musical element grows at chautauqua. there was this year, as had been the case for several seasons, a musical festival week, with daily concerts. for many years there had been a quartette of the best soloists during july and another during august, supported by a chorus often of three hundred voices and the great massey organ. henry b. vincent, who is the son of dr. b. t. vincent of the children's class, grew up at chautauqua, in a sense, spending his summers there from early childhood. for many years he has been at the organ seat, except when conducting the orchestra which he organized and trained. in he gave an interesting course of lectures on "how to listen to music." every sunday afternoon a large audience assembles to hear mr. vincent for an hour in an organ recital. an oratorio of his composition and under his direction was given at chautauqua some years ago, entitled "the prodigal son." with one vincent founder and chancellor, his son the president, one nephew a lecturer every year or two on literature, the other nephew the organ and band master, and his mother the president of the woman's club for many years, the vincent family has been worthily represented at chautauqua. while speaking of music we must not forget one course of lectures by mr. olin downes, musical critic of the _boston post_, on "musical expression in dramatic form," a history of the music drama in general; early french operas; the german romantic school; richard wagner; verdi and latter-day italians. prof. richard burton gave an entire course of lectures on "the serious bernard shaw," which caused a run upon the library for shaw's writings, as i perceived, for i vainly sought them. miss maud miner of the school of expression gave some recitals and a lecture, packed full of suggestions on "efficiency in speech." dr. george vincent spoke to a crowded amphitheater on "a national philosophy of life." a serbian, prince lazarovich hvebelianovich, gave a lurid picture of the balkan situation. let me quote one sentence as reported in the daily of july , (note the date): "within the next few months there will be a war; and such a war as has not stirred europe since the days of napoleon; a war that will involve all the principal nations on that side of the atlantic." less than thirteen months after that prediction came the event in the capital of his own little nation which let loose twenty millions of armed men, filled the seas with warships, above and beneath the waves, and the skies with fighting aeroplanes. mrs. percy v. pennybacker of texas, gave a series of addresses on the federation of woman's clubs, of which she was at that time the president. we listened to a chinaman, ng poon chew, the editor of a chinese daily paper in san francisco, on "china in transformation," a clear account of the new republic of china in its varied aspects, spoken in the best of english. we noticed too, that the speaker showed an understanding and appreciation which foreigners are often slow to obtain of american humor and jokes. another lecturer from abroad, though hardly a foreigner, for he came from england, prof. j. stoughton holborn, wearing his oxford gown (which we had not seen before at chautauqua), gave a course on "the inspiration of greece,"--a view of that wonderful people in the different fields of their greatness. think of one city which in the departments of literature, drama, philosophy, oratory, art, and public affairs could show more great men in two hundred years than all the rest of the world could show in two thousand! we were treated during the season of to a sight new at that time, though common enough now. mr. engels brought to chautauqua a curtiss hydroplane, and day after day made flights, skimming over the surface of the lake, rising into the air, circling the sky and returning to the starting-point, to the amazement of the watching multitudes. a few, and but a few, dared to be strapped into the machine and take the flight; director bestor was one of them, and when mrs. bestor heard of it she said: "i told him that he must not do it, but i knew all the time that he would!" another event of the season was the production of a greek play, in the original language, by a group of college students in greek costume. another fact worthy of remembrance was the opening of a completely furnished playground for the children in the ravine near the ball-ground. to stand on the bridge and look down upon that company of happy little people, is always a delight. also it is not to be forgotten that this year for the first time natural gas for cooking and heating was supplied throughout the grounds. the year was the fortieth anniversary of the founding of chautauqua. one of the founders was with us, hale and hearty, and still able to give an admirable address, although his memory of recent matters and people had failed. the other founder was no longer among us, and even fifteen years after his departure we of the earlier days missed him; but his memory will ever be kept green at chautauqua, while the white lilies are silently unfolded in his honor. on friday, july d, the signal fires were lighted all around the lake. the celebration of the anniversary did not take place until august, near the date in the month of the first assembly. on sunday, august d, bishop vincent preached in the amphitheater with scarcely any lessening of his old power. at the anniversary service, dr. jesse l. hurlbut--who was exhibited as one of the survivals of the prehistoric age, a sort of a dinosaurus or pleiosaurus,--gave an address on "memories of early days," of which the reader may find the substance scattered through these pages. but we must give a paragraph or two from mrs. frank beard's paper. in reference to the interdenominational aspect of the assembly, she said: the good baptist brother, wandering down by the dead sea and sea of galilee to the mediterranean, looked at the generous supply of water and was satisfied. the presbyterian brother gazed into the cloudless sky above him, saw his favorite color, and felt that chautauqua was foreordained for him. the lineal descendant of st. peter croqueted his ball through the arch and rejoiced that he was on saving ground. we sat on the hard board seats with nothing to rest our backs upon but the salubrious atmosphere. we heard ponderous speakers who talked on ponderous subjects. among the speakers was joseph cook, also bishop peck, pounds. some of the lecturers were recommended as cultured and highly finished. mr. beard said that he had attended these lectures, was glad that they were cultured and more than pleased that they were finished. the music week had now become a permanent institution, bringing thousands to the assembly. this year it began on monday, july th, with victor herbert's orchestra through the seven days, the chautauqua soloists, and the great chorus trained by alfred hallam. some musical associations from jamestown and elsewhere added their voices. among the lecturers, mr. griggs gave a course on "dramas of protest," the book of job, shelley's "prometheus unbound," galsworthy's "justice," calderon's "life is a dream," and some others. bourke cockran, the brilliant orator of irish descent, gave a great lecture on "abraham lincoln--original progressive." miss mary e. downey, director of the library school, spoke on "the evolution of the library," dean edwin watts chubb on "shakespeare as a moral teacher." john purroy mitchel, the reform mayor of new york, spoke on "municipal government" on july th; dr. lincoln hulley of florida gave a course on the leading american poets. mr. e. h. blichfeldt spoke most interestingly on "mexico as i know it," the results of a year of wide travel and close observation in that land. during the month of july we read in the papers of complications in the political world beyond the ocean, but few looked for serious trouble and none for actual war. on the first of august, , the storm burst, and nation after nation in a few hours assembled their hosts for the most terrible war in the history of the world. in accordance with the chautauqua tradition of free and open discussion, a war symposium was improvised and each of the contending nations had its speaker. on tuesday, august th, dr. hans e. gronow who had served his time in the german army gave "the german point of view." on thursday, august th, mr. sanford griffith, a newspaper correspondent and a student of public affairs spending several years in europe whom some of us had known as a boy at chautauqua, spoke on "european unrest due to shifts in the balance of power." on friday, august th, mons. benedict papot, formerly a soldier in france, gave "the french point of view," and on saturday, august th, dr. w. s. bainbridge, english in ancestry but american in birth and spirit, presented "the british point of view." all the exercises of the crowded program were held, but amid all our efforts the war brooded above us, a darkening cloud. the department of religious work was carried on with a strong force of speakers and teachers under the direction of dr. shailer mathews, its details supervised by his efficient assistant, miss georgia l. chamberlin of chicago, who also gave daily lectures. among the instructors were dr. charles f. kent of yale, and dr. james hope moulton, one of the richest minds of the age in biblical lore, who gave a series of lectures, learned yet simple, on "the origins of religion." none of us could have thought then that this noble life in its prime was destined to end in the mediterranean by a shot from a german submarine. the devotional hour and the sunday services were led for a week by the rev. c. rexford raymond of brooklyn, who told in several chapters the old story of joseph, yet seeming new in its application. the rev. g. robinson lees, vicar of st. andrews, lambeth, england, who had lived in palestine and among the arabs in the desert, had written a book forbidden by the turkish authorities, and had been banished from the land, preached one sunday morning and gave graphic pictures of oriental life through the week. dr. w. h. hickman, a former president of the chautauqua board of trustees, rev. peter ainslie of baltimore, dr. c. f. wishart, dr. washington gladden, one who was ever welcome at chautauqua; and a great-hearted man, dr. george w. truett of texas, were also chaplains, each serving a week. this year also the new golf course was opened on the field beyond the public highway, to the rejoicing of many patrons. at the close of the season the annual convention was held by the international lyceum and chautauqua association, the union of bureaus and speakers in the "chain chautauquas" held all over the continent, of which we shall speak later. their meetings were continued until september th, making the longest session in the history of chautauqua. in , the war of the world was bringing its unspeakable terrors to europe, and america was looking on, yet hesitating to plunge into the welter; but chautauqua held on its even way, its courses of instruction as many, and its classes as large as ever. this year dr. george e. vincent felt constrained by the pressure of his duties as president of the university of minnesota, with its eight thousand students and as large a number in its university extension courses, to withdraw from the direct supervision of chautauqua. he resigned his office as president of the chautauqua institution, and dr. arthur e. bestor became president. but dr. vincent retained his membership on the board of trustees, was named honorary president, and has continued to come to chautauqua almost every year. even for a few days, and with a lecture or two, his presence gives strength to the assembly. in , dr. vincent resigned the presidency of the university of minnesota to accept the same position with the rockefeller foundation, disbursing millions of dollars every year in the interests of world-wide education and health. the lecture platform of was arranged under six great weeks, each making prominent one subject, while popular addresses and the devotional services went on parallel with them all. the first week was devoted to the study of community service. mary antin, whose book, _the promised land_, had been read by everybody, was greeted by an audience far beyond the reach of her voice, speaking in her ardent manner. dr. lincoln wirt proclaimed "america's challenge to the world"; mr. e. j. ward explained the why and the how of "community service," and norman angell set forth "american leadership in world politics." during this week chancellor mccormick of the university of pittsburgh conducted the services of the devotional hour. the second week was devoted to the drink problem. bishop francis j. mcconnell of the methodist episcopal church preached on sunday morning and spoke at the devotional hour each day. the opening address was by governor george a. carlson of colorado, who set forth powerfully the methods and results of prohibition in his state. dr. h. a. gibbons spoke on "the prohibition question in europe." the hon. j. denny o'neill, on "booze and politics." while the temperance question was discussed in the hall of philosophy, there were concerts and lectures in the amphitheater, one especially by mr. sanford griffith, who had been at the battle front as a war correspondent, on "fighting in flanders." also dr. hamilton wright mabie, editor and essayist, spoke on "the east and west, friends or enemies?" the third week was entitled "justice and the courts"--with such subjects as law, legislation, the administration of justice, and penology. among the speakers were george w. alger, thomas mott osborne, katharine bement davis, judge w. l. ransom of new york, and dean james parker hall of the university of chicago law school. mr. charles rann kennedy, author of _the servant in the house_, a drama with a sermon, recited the play, aided by mrs. kennedy. the play had already been read a year or two before by mrs. bertha kunz baker, and also enacted by the chautauqua players, so that we were familiar with it, but were eager to hear it recited by its author. mr. kennedy also gave some dramatic interpretations from the bible. this week the devotional hour was held by dr. charles w. gilkey, of the hyde park baptist church in chicago, the church nearest to the university and attended by many of the faculty and students. the music week was notable from the presence of the russian symphony orchestra, led by a great player and delightful personality, modest altschuler. one of his company said of him, "he rules his orchestra by love." the recognition address this year was by president e. b. bryan of colgate university, on the all-important question: "who are good citizens?" the forty-third assembly in found our country in the throes of a presidential election, party strife bitter, and the nation divided on the impending question of our entrance into the world war. the feverish pulse of the time was manifested in the opinions expressed by the different speakers. dr. george e. vincent gave a lecture on "what is americanism"--a sane, thoughtful view which was needed in that hour. the week beginning sunday, july d, was devoted to the subject of preparedness for war or peace. the ford peace expedition of that year will be remembered, the effort of a wealthy manufacturer to stop the war. several who had taken part in that apparently quixotic movement spoke in defense or criticism of it, and also the question of preparedness was discussed by governor charles s. whitman, president hibben of princeton, hon. henry a. wise wood, senator w. m. calder, and others. mrs. lucia ames ward, of the woman's peace party, was opposed to any participation in the war or preparation for it. the controversy waxed warm, for the opinions were positive on both sides. on subjects aside from the war we had an enlightening series of addresses at the devotional hour by dean charles r. brown of yale; a course of lectures by dr. edwin e. slosson on "major prophets of to-day," bernard shaw, g. k. chesterton, h. g. wells, and some others; a series of lectures by dr. percy f. boynton on "the growth of consciousness in american literature,"--as shown in irving, cooper, emerson, lowell, and whitman. raymond robins gave four lectures on "the church and the laboring classes." dr. griggs awakened general interest by his lectures on "types of men and women," as illustrated in their autobiographies and letters, presenting john stuart mill, benevenuto cellini, george john romanes, marie bashkirtseff, sonya kovalevasky (a new name to most of us), and henri frederic amiel,--all possessing characters pronounced, some of them so peculiar as to be almost abnormal. the russian symphony orchestra, with its beloved director, modest altschuler, was with us again for another week, aided by the soloists and chautauqua chorus. in our rapid survey, we have only glanced at the prominent events in a great season. chapter xxiii war and its aftermath ( - ) when the forty-fourth session of chautauqua opened on thursday, june , , it found the american republic just entering upon the great war, which had already raged in europe for over two years. training camps had sprung up like magic all over the land, from ocean to ocean, and young men by the hundred thousand had volunteered, with others by the million soon cheerfully to accept drafting orders. almost every university had been transformed into a war college. president vincent was at the intensive military training school at plattsburg, n. y. every morning before breakfast two hundred men at chautauqua were marching and counter-marching, and learning the manual of arms with wooden guns, with president bestor and most of the officials of the institution in the lines. the young women every afternoon were receiving similar drill under a woman officer, and some said that they presented even a more soldier-like appearance than the men. the headquarters of several denominations had been commandeered for red cross work and training. a stranger could scarcely get into the methodist house without being scrutinized as a possible german spy, with a pocketful of poison or powdered glass to sprinkle on the bandages. war was in the air as well as in the newspapers. no matter what was the subject of a lecture it was almost sure to be on the war before the finish. there were discussions on the platform and on the street about the league of nations, some with president wilson in favor of it, others as vigorously against it. a symposium on "our country" and a conference of "organizations engaged in education for patriotic service" were held during the session; also a company of students from the carnegie institute of technology, pittsburgh, presented a brilliant pageant, "the drawing of the sword." the fourth of july address was given by the hon. g. w. wickersham, former attorney-general of the united states. captain a. radclyffe dugmore of the british army spoke on "our fight for freedom." miss ida tarbell, who had won fame by a book showing the operations of the standard oil company, and had also written a life of abraham lincoln, to be found in every public library and read more widely than any other biography of the greatest american, gave some lectures. her literary life, by the way, began in the office of the _chautauquan magazine_. mrs. percy v. pennybacker this summer became president of the chautauqua woman's club, which office mrs. b. t. vincent had relinquished after many years of leadership. both these presidents were eminently successful in different directions and by different methods, the earlier having built up the club by wisdom mingled with gentleness; her successor carried it onward by an energy that brought everybody into willing subjection to her far-reaching plans. almost the first result of the new administration was the purchase of a club house fronting on the lake, and holding in it almost a bewildering series of teas and receptions. while the public meetings of the club crowded the new hall of philosophy every afternoon, mrs. pennybacker gave a stirring address on "what our country asks of its young women." during the first week dr. harry emerson fosdick of the union theological seminary was the chaplain, and his addresses blended fervent patriotism and fervent religion in about equal measure. the second week, from july th to th, was denominated "arts and letters," with lectures on these subjects by dr. mitchell carroll of washington, henry turner bailey of boston, and others. but underneath the artistic and the literary, the echo of the war might still be heard in many of the lectures, and it sounded out in the devotional hour addresses of that soldier in the army of the lord, the chaplain, bishop charles d. williams. during the week of july th to st, the methodist bishop, william burt of buffalo, to whose "area" (for methodists of course could not call it a "diocese") chautauqua belongs, was the chaplain. during this week we heard lectures by admiral peary, the discoverer of the north pole; by thomas adams of canada; by d. r. garland of ohio; by d. a. reed of michigan, and by george a. bellamy of cleveland. july d- th was musical festival week, when we had with us once more the russian symphony orchestra, conducted by modest altschuler, who was welcomed with sincere rejoicing by chautauqua's multitude. looking over the crowded amphitheater during those daily concerts, the only reminder of a war in progress was that scarcely a young man was to be seen, although every seat was occupied. from july th to august th, the great war was the theme on the platform. mr. earl barnes gave a series of lectures on "historical backgrounds of the war," respectively in the british empire, france, germany, austro-hungary, the russian empire, and the balkan peninsular. dr. herbert adams gibbons presented some of the "problems of the peace conference,"--though at that time nobody knew when the conference would be held or whether anybody would be left alive to hold it. but the cheerful assumption was taken that germany would be beaten, which proved to be correct, and also that the allies would rearrange the map of the world, which does not now appear to be quite certain. mr. sanford griffith, just from the front, gave us an inspiring word-picture of "paris reborn." the concluding address of the symposium was given by president bestor on "america and the war." it was considered by the national security league as of sufficient value to be published in pamphlet form, and received a wide circulation. from august th to th, bishop charles b. mitchell (methodist episcopal), living at minneapolis, held the post of chaplain, and gave a number of heart warming addresses on "the transforming power of divine grace." during the week the recognition day exercises were held, with all pomp and ceremonial, the address being given by president george e. vincent. his father was present and that afternoon, as chancellor, gave the diplomas to the graduates, but none of us knew that it was for the last time, and that his face would not be seen again at chautauqua, although he lived nearly three years longer. in , president e. b. bryan of colgate university accepted the position as director of the summer schools. but to one who through the rest of the year has a college full of students to keep in order, and also a faculty to maintain in harmony--which one college president told me he found the harder task,--the burden at chautauqua of a hundred and twenty-five teachers, two hundred courses of study, and forty-five hundred students during nearly all his summer vacation, proved too heavy even for dr. bryan's shoulders, and after three years, in , he was compelled to relinquish it into the hands of president bestor. this summer, also, the new traction station of the chautauqua lake railway was opened at the highway entrance to the grounds; a handsome pillared structure with more room than chautauqua had ever before possessed for waiting room, ticket office, baggage, freight, and express, a convenience appreciated by every visitor. also, by the shore a new bathhouse and the jacob bolin gymnasium were built and opened, as well as the fenton memorial home for methodist deaconesses on the overlook addition. in , we were in the grip of the war, with our young men in camp by the million, overseas and on their way by the hundred thousand, and every woman "doing her bit" in the red cross work. outwardly, chautauqua seemed as flourishing as in other years, the hotels and cottages appeared to be full, the amphitheater was crowded at the concerts and popular lectures, and the main streets before and after lectures were a continuous procession. but the gate receipts showed that the institution, in common with every college in the land, was lessened in its attendance and its financial returns. nevertheless, the program was not allowed to decline in its extent and its interest. indeed, one added feature attracted attention. in the field of the overlook a national service school was held in cooperation with the woman's naval service. a tented camp was maintained under the strict discipline of mrs. george e. vincent, with regular guards, and training for more than two hundred khaki-clad young women in agriculture, telegraphy, basketry, and canteen management. i am not sure about carpentry, though i saw a photograph of young women sawing boards and putting up a house. the value of chautauqua in national patriotic leadership was recognized, not only by our own government, but by the allies as well. great britain, france, belgium, italy, and greece sent official speakers, either through their embassies or their special war missions. it was a mark of distinguished favor that the french high commission gave the french military band to chautauqua for a week, their longest engagement in this country. on the opening day, july th, president bestor gave the oration on "mobilizing the mind of america." for nearly a year before, and until the armistice in november of this year, mr. bestor was almost without intermission in washington in government service as head of the department of publicity. he was director of the speaking division of the committee on public information, and also secretary of the committee on patriotism of the national security league, an organization which held in many places training camps for patriotic speakers. dr. bestor was carrying on more than double duty until the armistice in gave him something of a breathing spell between the sessions of chautauqua. during the week from july th to th, bishop edwin h. hughes (methodist episcopal) was chaplain, and gave addresses of a high character on "varieties of religious experience." as samples of the type of lectures during this strenuous battle summer, this week president e. b. bryan spoke on "war as a schoolmaster," mr. e. h. griggs began a course on "the war and the reconstruction of democracy," and dr. l. a. weigle of yale lectured on "religious education in war times." one evening dr. s. h. clark read war lyrics in the amphitheater. the week from july th to th was "women's service week," and among those who spoke on the subject were anna howard shaw, who had been called by the president to be chairman of the women's national council of defense, in command of all the activities of women in aid of the war, miss helen fraser of england, mrs. carrie chapman catt, mrs. ella a. boole, mrs. pennybacker, and mrs. george thatcher guernsey,--women whose voices had often been heard in behalf of woman suffrage, now as ardently speaking in aid of work to carry on the war. this week dr. s. p. cadman had been engaged as chaplain, but he was unable to remain more than one day and other men were suddenly drafted to take his place on successive mornings, one of them, the writer of these pages, on fifteen minutes' notice called to conduct the devotional hour, immediately after an hour's teaching in class. this little incident, of no particular interest to anybody but the writer, is mentioned merely to illustrate the instant change of front which must be made frequently at chautauqua, when a speaker is delayed by a railroad wreck or unexpectedly called home to conduct a funeral. "our allies" was the title of the week from july d to th. dr. charles w. gilkey of chicago preached the sermon on sunday morning and led in the devotions through the week. prof. robert herndon fife of the wesleyan university, conn., gave a series of lectures on "the new europe." not all of his forecasts have yet come to pass, for the new europe is only slowly emerging out of the old. mrs. kenneth brown--the name sounds american, but she is a greek lady of rank, born demetra vaka--told a harrowing tale of her own experience and observation, "in the heart of the german intrigue." dr. mitchell carroll of washington gave an account of "greece, our youngest ally," with venizelos as the hero. lieut. bruno roselli of the italian army spoke; miss maud hayes of "england in war time." on friday evening, july th, there was a concert in the evening of national songs of the allies; the flags of more than twenty nations being hung above the choir loft. on grand army day in this week lieut. telfair marion minton spoke on "the flags of a thousand years." in the following week, july th to august d, while the musical festival was in progress, the french military band played every day, and concert followed concert, with gaul's "joan of arc" sung one evening by the soloists and full chorus. dr. leon h. vincent gave a course of lectures, showing "war in literature," the stories called forth by the wars of napoleon, the crimean war, the franco-prussian war of , and the struggle in progress in --a most interesting series. the chaplain of this week was the rev. wm. s. jacobs, d.d., of houston, texas. omitting a fortnight for lack of room, we must not omit "the next step forward," the topic of the week from august th to th, a discussion of some movements to follow in the footsteps of war, such as "theological reconstruction," by shailer mathews; "christianity in foreign lands," by dr. j. l. barton, secretary of the american board of commissioners for foreign missions; "the sunday evening club" and "church advertising," by w. f. mcclure, and "the art of motion pictures," by vachel lindsay. there was also a course on "art in daily life," by our english friend, prof. i. b. stoughton holborn, of oxford. bishop mcconnell, who conducted the devotional hour, august th- th, also gave the recognition address to the graduating class of the c. l. s. c., on "ideals of leadership." the skies were clouded, yet we were able to hold the procession as usual (only once in forty-seven years has the march been broken up by rain), but the storm fell during the address, with such noise on the roof that the bishop was compelled to pause for some minutes until its rage abated. we missed on this day especially the presence of bishop vincent and his son, and the diplomas were conferred by dr. bestor, the new president of chautauqua. not long after the closing of the assembly, on november , , "armistice day" was ushered in by the blowing of every steam whistle upon the continent, by all-day processions, by bands and horns, and a surrender of the nation to the universal joy, through the news that the most terrible war that ever desolated the world was over at last. when the forty-sixth session of chautauqua opened in , it found the land rejoicing over the conclusion of the war, happy in the return of two million men in khaki, apparently rich with high wages, booming business, and money in plenty. it was the top of a tide destined before many months to recede to normal conditions. but while the flush times lasted, chautauqua shared in the nation-wide prosperity. this was the period of astounding financial drives. one great church commemorated the hundred years of its missionary enterprise by a centenary movement and a subscription of more than a hundred million dollars. other churches followed with "new era" and "nation wide" campaigns. it seemed to be the opportunity for chautauqua to reap some benefits from the spirit of the time, and the trustees launched the "comprehensive plan" to raise half a million dollars, freeing the institution from all debt and placing it on a safe, permanent, and prosperous basis. here was a university of a hundred and twenty-five instructors, two hundred courses of study, and nearly five thousand students every summer, yet without a dollar of endowment;--what college in the land was doing so much with an income so small? here was a property of three hundred and fifty acres, gradually accumulated, partly by the demands of the institution's growth, partly from the necessity of controlling its surroundings. debts had been incurred by enlargement of the grounds, a sewer system, a water supply, electric lighting, new buildings, new roads, and a hundred items of improvement. the overhead expenses of chautauqua, in the form of interest that must be paid, were more than thirty thousand dollars every year. how much might be accomplished if every debt could be cleared away and the saving in interest be applied to the improvement of the property and the enlargement of opportunities? mr. john d. rockefeller made an offer of giving one-fifth of all that should be raised, up to the desired half-million dollars. the trustees assigned to themselves another hundred thousand of the amount, and a committee of the cottage owners pledged $ , from those having property on the ground. the plans were carefully laid, and during the season of every visitor at chautauqua was called upon to make his contribution. of all the forty-six years of chautauqua up to , this was the most successful in its history. the attendance shown by the receipts at the two gates--one at the pier where the steamboats landed their thousands, the other at the new station on the public highway where the trolley brought the tens of thousands--were far beyond that of any former year. the registration at the schools was sixty-two per cent. in advance of , and eighteen per cent. beyond that of , the best previous year. every hotel and boarding house inside the fence was full, and pleas were made to cottagers to open their doors to incoming guests. many who could not find lodging places on the grounds found homes in the hotels and hamlets around the lake and came daily to the assembly by trolley or by boat. during the opening week, mr. w. w. ellsworth gave two illustrated lectures, one on "theodore roosevelt," the other "the rise and fall of prussianism," and prof. thomas f. moran of purdue university gave an appreciation of "mark twain, humorist, reformer, and philosopher." miss maud miner gave a popular recitation of "comedy scenes from shakespeare." it was noticed that in the very opening the amphitheater was filled;--what would it become at the height of the season, the first two weeks in august? the devotional hour from july th to th was held by dr. charles f. wishart, in a series of studies in the book of exodus, entitled, "a free people in the making," and from the story he drew frequent applications to the history of another "free people." during this week, dr. louis a. weigle, professor of psychology at yale university, began a course of lectures on "character building in the public schools" suggesting many thoughts--not all of them gratulatory--in those who heard them. on sunday morning, july th, the great congregation heard dr. wm. p. merrill, of the brick church, new york, deliver a sermon on the topic as announced, "the league of nations," of which he declared himself unreservedly in favor. on this question there were two parties throughout the nation strongly opposed to each other and fiercely debating it, and when a fortnight later the chaplain, bishop williams, who was never known to sit on the fence, also came out vigorously for the league, mr. bestor began to look around for some speaker on the other side, for it has been a principle at chautauqua to give both sides a fair showing, even when the chautauqua constituency as a whole might be opposed to a speaker. a speaker against the league was found in mr. john ferguson, but he evidently represented the sentiments of the minority. among the speakers of the second week were several on "the aftermath of the great war," among them dr. katharine b. davis, major-general bailey, who had been commander of the eighty-first division of the a. e. f., and attorney-general a. mitchell palmer. prof. s. c. schmucker also gave a course of lectures on "the races of man." musical festival week was from july th to august nd. the new york symphony orchestra of sixty instruments was with us in concerts daily, led in the absence of its conductor, mr. walter damrosch (who was abroad) by rené pollain of france. during this and the following week earl barnes gave a course of lectures on "the new nations of the world." we listened to a discussion of "zionism," in a lecture on "jewish aims in palestine" by charles a. cowen, of the zionist organization, to which mr. earl barnes gave a cool, dispassionate answer, showing the difficulty, amounting almost to an impossibility, of establishing a jewish state in the land looked upon as holy, not only by jews, but by mohammedans and christians of all the great churches. another speaker in this symposium was mme. mabel s. grouetch, the wife of the serbian minister at washington, who afterward became the czecho-slovak representative to japan. old first night on august th was devoted to the comprehensive plan of lifting chautauqua out of debt. the elements seemed against the aim for rain kept some away,--though the amphitheater was full--and its thunder on the roof made some speeches inaudible. but it could not dampen the ardor of the people. practically every organization, club, or class at chautauqua, besides many individuals, made pledges. besides the chorus, there was a children's choir in the gallery, and one gentleman offered to give a dollar for every child in it, whereupon scouts were sent out, boys and girls were gotten out of bed and brought to the gallery, so that his pledge cost that gentleman considerably over $ . . before the close of the assembly $ , had been subscribed, inclusive of mr. rockefeller's quota. americanization week was from august th to th, with timely addresses by prof. herbert adolphin miller, prof. thomas moran, and a delightful lecture by mrs. beatrice forbes-robertson hale, on "reconstruction in england and america." as a practical illustration of americanization, there was a wonderful pageant by the children of a public school in pittsburgh, practically all of foreign lineage. the recognition address on august th was by bishop charles f. brent, who after heroic work in the philippines had been translated to the episcopal diocese of western new york. his subject was "the opportunities of the mind." we must not forget that some lectures were given at this session by dr. charles a. eastman, whose name does not suggest, as his complexion does, that he is a full-blooded sioux indian. he is a successful physician and a graduate of dartmouth college,--which, by the way, was established in as a school for indians, with no thought of anglo-saxon students. this year also dr. e. b. bryan was unable to remain as director of the summer schools, and his work was added to the many tasks of president bestor. we come finally to the assembly of , the forty-seventh session, and at present the last upon our list, unless we undertake a prophetic look into the future. we met in sadness, for our great founder john heyl vincent, who had lived to the age of eighty-eight years, died on sunday, may th, at his home in chicago. he had outlived his fellow-founder, lewis miller, by twenty-one years. the two names stand together in the annals of chautauqua and in the thoughts of all chautauquans, for chautauqua could not have been founded by either one without the other, and on old first night, for both together the lilies of the white handkerchiefs are silently and solemnly lifted, and as silently and solemnly lowered. a memorial service was held for our beloved bishop and chancellor on sunday afternoon, august st, at the vesper hour, in the hall of philosophy as the appropriate place, and the writer of this story, as the oldest of living chautauqua workers, was permitted to offer the tribute in his honor. in the evening another service was held in the amphitheater, at which dr. john h. finley, superintendent of education for new york state, and bishop herbert welch of the methodist episcopal church, home for a few months from his field in korea and japan, gave addresses. during the past year chautauqua had sustained another loss in the death of mr. alfred hallam, who for nearly twenty years had been the untiring and wholly devoted leader of the musical department. it was felt that a musical service was his most appropriate memorial, and the oratorio "hora novissima," by horatio parker, was sung by the choir and soloists on sunday evening, august th. during the session news came that dr. bethuel t. vincent of denver, long conductor of the children's class and intermediate class in the early years of the assembly, had followed his brother the bishop, into the silent land. he was remembered in an address by the writer at a memorial service. his wife, mrs. ella vincent, for many years president of the woman's club, in a few months also joined the company of the church triumphant. another voice often heard at chautauqua was stilled this summer, that of mrs. frank beard, always bright and sunny in her spirit, who fell asleep in the cottage where she was abiding, soon after the opening of the assembly, fulfilling the wish expressed to a friend a year before that she might die at chautauqua. the most notable feature on the program this summer was the presence at chautauqua for nearly six weeks, from july th to august st, of the new york symphony orchestra, with daily concerts, conducted by rené pollain and william willeke,--a bold venture of the management but evidently successful. this was the tercentenary of the landing of the pilgrims, and the event was recognized by several addresses, one in particular by mr. charles zeublin, on " and ." prof. weigle gave a lecture on "education of children in early new england"; dr. alfred e. garvie spoke on "the message of the _mayflower_ for to-day." principal alexander j. grieve of the university of edinburgh gave lectures on the "leaders of the pilgrims,--john robinson and others." dr. herbert adams gibbons, after an experience of years in asia minor and in france, gave a series of valuable lectures on "after the war," and mrs. gibbons narrated the thrilling story of herself in turkey, during the massacres of . dr. lynn harold hough was chaplain from july th to july th, and in the morning talks spoke on the spiritual experiences of st. augustine, martin luther, and john wesley, then summed them up in a conception of "the christian society." prof. richard burton lectured in a course on "modern literary tendencies,"--the essay, the novel, the drama, and other forms of literature. one of the great acquisitions this year was prof. t. r. glover of cambridge, england, with a course of lectures on "the jesus of history," the results of the deepest study of the new testament and also of the contemporary roman world. dr. h. gordon hayes, just leaving yale for the ohio state university, discussed most ably "factors in labor unrest." on roosevelt day, july st, mrs. douglas robinson, his sister, gave "recollections of theodore roosevelt." in the week from july th- st, the subject was "problems of the present day civilization," discussed by dr. e. h. griggs, rabbi louis wolsey of cleveland, and dr. cornelius woelfkin of new york. "woman and the new era" was the theme of the week august d- th, a discussion participated in by mrs. thomas g. winter, president of the general federation of woman's clubs; by mrs. george bass, who was the woman, for the first time in history to preside for a day at the democratic national convention which renominated woodrow wilson; and by miss mary garrett hay, the president of the affiliated women's republican clubs. august d- th was the week of the ministers and church workers' institute, with addresses by bishop mcdowell (methodist), ozora s. davis, shailer mathews, mrs. helen barrett montgomery, and chancellor s. b. mccormick, of pittsburgh. this was a great year. subscriptions to the comprehensive plan brought the amount up to $ , , including mr. rockefeller's contribution, to be increased if other gifts warranted it. the summer schools were twenty-five per cent. in income and nearly twenty per cent. in numbers over , the highest mark of past years. provision was made for improving and enlarging the golf links, and for building a new club house on the grounds of the golf course. chapter xxiv chautauqua's elder daughters chautauqua, planted upon the shore of its lake, grew up a fruitful vine, and within two years shoots cut from its abundant branches began to take root in other soils. or, to change the figure, the seeds of chautauqua were borne by the winds to many places, some of them far away, and these grew up, in the course of little more than a generation, a hundred, even a thousand fold. many of these daughter-chautauquas were organized by men--in some instances by women--who had caught the spirit of the mother-assembly; others by those who had heard of the new movement and saw its possibilities; some, it must be confessed, by people who sought to save a decayed and debt-burdened camp meeting, and a few with lots to lease at a summer resort. from one cause or another, immediately after the first assembly had won success, dr. vincent began to receive pressing invitations to organize similar institutions in many places. as he was already fulfilling the duties both of an editor and a secretary for the rapidly growing sunday school cause, he could accept but few of these many calls. but a number of younger men trained by a year or two of experience in teaching at chautauqua were around him and to these he directed most of the enquirers. at least three assemblies arose in , two years after the founding of chautauqua. of these i possess some knowledge and will therefore name them, but without doubt there were others which soon passed away and left scarcely a memory. so far as i have been able to ascertain, the first gathering to follow in the footsteps of chautauqua was the sunday school parliament on wellesley island, one of those romantic thousand islands in the st. lawrence river, where it emerges from lake ontario. this island stands on the boundary line between the united states and canada, but the home of the parliament was on the canadian side of the line. the name "chautauqua" has now become generic and almost any gathering in the interests of the sunday school, or of general literature with a sprinkling of entertainment, is apt to be named "a chautauqua." but in those early days the word chautauqua was not known as the general term of an institution of the assembly type, and the new gatherings were named "congress" or "encampment" or "institute," and for this gathering the title "sunday school parliament" was taken, as smacking somewhat of english origin. its organizer and conductor was the rev. wilbur f. crafts, at that time a methodist minister, afterwards a congregationalist, and still at present working as the head of the international reform bureau in washington, d. c. he was aided in the plan and direction by mrs. crafts, for both of them were then prominent leaders in sunday school work. it was my good fortune to be present and conduct the normal class during a part of the time. as compared with chautauqua, the parliament was small, but its spirit was true to the chautauqua ideal and it was maintained faithfully for ten or twelve years. the place had been established as a camp-meeting ground, but it shared the fate of many camp meetings in gradually growing into a summer resort for people in general. as cottages and cottagers increased the chautauqua interest declined, and finally the attempt to maintain classes and meetings after the chautauqua pattern was abandoned, and the island took its place among the summer colonies in that wonderful group. the same year, , saw another camp ground becoming a chautauqua assembly,--at petoskey, near the northern end of lake michigan. here a beautiful tract of woodland, rising in a series of terraces from little traverse bay, about forty miles south of the straits of mackinac, had been obtained by a methodist camp-meeting association, and laid out in roads forming a series of concentric circles. here the first bay view assembly was held in , and again in its scope were combined the camp meeting, the summer home, and the chautauqua conception, three divergent aims that have rarely worked well together. it will be remembered that on its land side the original chautauqua was shut off from the outer world by a high fence, and everybody was compelled to enter the ground through a gate, at which a ticket must be purchased. at bay view, as at most camp-meeting grounds, access was open on every side. at first they undertook to support the assembly by collections, but the receipts proved inadequate, and they placed a ticket window at each lecture hall and endeavored to induce the cottagers to purchase season tickets, a plan which has been pursued down to the present time. one of the founders of bay view, perhaps the one who suggested it, was dr. wm. h. perrine, an ardent and intelligent chautauquan, the rebuilder of palestine park. other men came to the aid of the bay view assembly, some of them men of means, who gave liberally in the form of buildings, an organ, and to some extent an endowment. one of these was mr. horace hitchcock of detroit, another was john m. hall, who organized the bay view reading course, analogous to the c. l. s. c., and by his personal endeavor built up a reading and book-buying constituency. i was present at the second session in , when it was a handful of people in a wilderness, and again thirty years later, when i found a beautiful city of homes in the forest, rising terrace above terrace, with good roads, fine public buildings, and a body of people interested in the best thought of the time. chautauqua points with pleasure and pride to her oldest living daughter, the bay view assembly. mention should be made here of an assembly established at clear lake, beside a beautiful sheet of water in northern iowa, nearly midway between the mississippi and missouri rivers. it was organized in , with the rev. j. r. berry as superintendent. for some years, beginning in , it was under the direction of the rev. j. a. worden, who, like some others of us, had learned the assembly trade in apprenticeship to dr. vincent at chautauqua. for ten years clear lake was fairly prosperous, but in time it met the fate of most assemblies and dropped out of existence. during the year three more assemblies arose, one of which remains to this day in prosperity, while the two others soon passed away. the successful institution was at lakeside, ohio. like many others, it was grafted upon a camp meeting which had been established some years before, but was declining in its interest and attendance. the name "encampment" was chosen as an easy departure from its original sphere, but after a few years the name "assembly," by this time becoming general, was assumed. the first meeting as a sunday school gathering on the chautauqua plan was held in , with the rev. james a. worden, who had assisted dr. vincent for three years in the normal work at chautauqua, as its conductor. afterward dr. b. t. vincent was in charge for a number of seasons, and one year, , dr. john h. vincent was superintendent. for many years all the chautauqua features were kept prominent, the normal department, with a systematic course, examinations, and an alumni association; the c. l. s. c. with recognition services, round tables, camp fires, the four arches, and all the accessories. lakeside drew around it helpers and liberal givers, and still stands in strength. lakeside has the benefit of a delightful location, on a wooded peninsula jutting into lake erie, near sandusky city, and in sight of put-in-bay, famous in american history for commodore perry's naval victory in the war of . it still maintains lecture courses and classes in the midst of a summer-home community. another assembly began in , with high expectations, at lake bluff overlooking lake michigan, thirty-five miles north of chicago. it was confidently supposed that on a direct railroad line from the great city, lake bluff would draw large audiences, and dr. vincent was engaged to organize and conduct an assembly upon the chautauqua plan, with lecturers and workers from that headquarters. a strong program was prepared for the opening session. among the lecturers was the rev. joseph cook, at that time one of the most prominent and popular speakers in the land. i recall in one of his lectures at lake bluff a sentence, wholly unpremeditated, which thrilled the audience and has always seemed to me one of the most eloquent utterances i have ever heard. it was twelve years after the civil war, and on our way to the assembly we passed the marble monument crowned with the statue of stephen a. douglas, the competitor of lincoln for the senatorship and presidency, but after the opening of the war his loyal supporter for the few months before his death. dr. cook was giving a history of the forces in the nation which brought on the secession of the southern states. he referred to daniel webster in the highest praise, declaring that his compromise measures, such as the fugitive slave law, were dictated by a supreme love for the union, which if preserved would in time have made an end of slavery, and he added a sentence of which this is the substance. had it been given to daniel webster, as it was given to edward everett, to live until the guns were fired upon fort sumter, there would have been an end of compromise. he would have stamped that mighty foot with a sound that would have rung throughout the land, have called forth a million men, and might have averted the war! just then a voice rang out from one of the seats--"as douglas did!" joseph cook paused a moment. his chest swelled as he drew in a breath, and then looking at the man who had interrupted him, he spoke in that powerful voice: the firmament above the massive brow of daniel webster was a vaster arch than that over the narrow forehead of stephen a. douglas, and the lightning that rent the clouds from the dying face of one, would never have been needed to bring daylight to the other! i was seated beside the rev. charles f. deems of new york, a southerner by birth and in his sympathies through the then recent war. he turned to me and said: "that was the most magnificent sentence that i have ever heard!" there was a moment of silence, and then a burst of applause from the audience. the lake bluff assembly never drew a large patronage, as no chautauqua assembly ever has which depended upon a great city whose inhabitants can hear the famous preachers and orators. the successful assemblies have been located in fairly large towns, with villages and small cities surrounding, near enough to reach the assembly, but so distant that to enjoy its benefits the visitors must stay more than one day. the support of a chautauqua assembly of the higher grade comes not mainly from the one-day excursionists, but from those who plan to enter the classes and remain at least a fortnight. these patrons constitute the backbone of the institution, and without them the transitory crowds soon lose their interest and the assembly declines. lake bluff maintained an existence for ten or twelve years, but never obtained an extensive constituency. the year was noteworthy in the establishment of two assemblies, one still living after more than forty years, the other one of the largest, most steadfast in fidelity to the chautauqua ideal, and most extended in its influence. the first of these was the round lake assembly, at a camp ground near saratoga in new york. we have narrated elsewhere (see page ) the story of the "praying band leader" who undertook to hold a little meeting of his own at chautauqua, and when called to order left in disgust, but later showed his manly spirit by asking dr. vincent to organize an assembly on the chautauqua plan on the grounds at round lake, of which camp meeting he was president. this assembly began in , and is still maintained both as a summer school, a camp meeting, and a sunday school training institution. it was opened according to the chautauqua pattern, with an evening of short speeches, of which some at least were supposed to blend humor with sense. frank beard was on the platform, and was expected to be the wit of the evening. to the blank perplexity of all, he made a serious speech, without a solitary funny allusion. the audience did not know whether to laugh or to look solemn, as he talked on, and at last brought us all "before the great white throne." the next morning at breakfast--for all the imported workers took our meals at one table in the round lake hotel--dr. vincent freed his mind to frank beard, somewhat after this fashion: now, frank, i want you to understand that we bring you here to brighten up the program with a little fun. we don't need you to make serious speeches; there are plenty of men to do that; i can do it myself, a great deal better than you can. to-night i'm going to give you another chance, and i expect you to rise to the occasion with something to laugh at. so, before the evening lecture, dr. vincent announced that mr. beard wished to say a few words. this was something of what he said: dr. vincent, he didn't like the speech i made last night. he told me this morning before all these fellers that it was too eloquent, and he said, "mr. beard, when you are eloquent you take the shine off from me, and these other men, and you mustn't do it. if there is any eloquence needed, i will do it myself, and you mustn't interfere with the regular program." then he went on, in his usual way, using some of the dear old jokes that some of us had heard at chautauqua, but polished up for a new constituency. everybody saw that he was guying the doctor, but there was a group of us present who knew just how frank was twisting the breakfast talk of the superintendent of instruction. on the shore of round lake, near the assembly ground, a copy of palestine park had been constructed, and daily lectures were given there. it was just a few feet larger than the park at chautauqua, as we were informed by the president. let me correct the report that a big methodist bishop arriving late one night, and enquiring the way to the hotel, fell into the clutches of the most mischievous small boy in the region, who told him: "the gates are all shut and you'll have to climb the fence yonder." he did so, according to the story, and fell from the top of the fence into the dead sea, which at once swelled its waters and washed away the city of jericho. the eminent divine, it is said, drenched with water and spattered with mud, walked up the jordan valley and over the mountains of ephraim, destroying the cities and obliterating sundry holy places; one foot caught in jacob's well, and his head bumped on mount gerizim. he reached the hotel at last, but the next morning showed the land of palestine in worse ruin than had been wrought by nebuchadnezzar's army. all this i, myself, read in a new york newspaper that is said to contain "all the news that is fit to print"; but i here and now declare solemnly that there is not a shred of truth in the story, for i saw the bishop, and i saw the park! the round lake meetings are held to this day, courses of lectures are given, and classes are held. but the park of palestine, which was to surpass chautauqua's park, is no more. it was built on swampy ground, after a few years sank under the encroaching waters of the lake, and was never restored. the other institution founded in was the kansas chautauqua assembly. it was organized by the rev. j. e. gilbert, then a pastor of a methodist church in topeka, who was an active sunday school worker and started other assemblies during his different pastorates in the middle west. it was held for three years at lawrence, then at topeka for two years, and finally in located at ottawa, about fifty miles southwest from kansas city. most of the assemblies already named were held upon camp grounds, but the ottawa assembly was unique in its location upon the large forest park just outside the city, leased for this purpose by the authorities. being public property, no cottages could be built upon it, but a city of three hundred tents arose every summer, and after a fortnight were folded and taken away. for nearly twenty years this assembly was under the direction of the writer, and in every respect followed the lines laid down by its parent chautauqua. buildings were put up for classes, which served as well for the annual agricultural fair in the fall. in our first year at ottawa, our normal class was held out of doors, the members seated upon the unroofed grand stand of the park, and i was teaching them with the aid of a blackboard. clouds began to gather rapidly and a storm seemed to be in prospect. i paused in the lesson and said: "i am somewhat of a stranger here--how long does it take a thunder storm to arrive?" "about two minutes!" responded a voice from the seats; and instantly there came a rush to cover, leaving the history of the bible to care for itself. we were just in time, for a minute later it was blowing a hurricane, bending the great trees and breaking their branches. i had heard of kansas cyclones, had been shown a "cyclone cellar," and only the day before had taken dinner in a house of which one end had been blown clean off by a cyclone. as we stood in a building which we had named "normal hall," i asked a lady by the window, "is this a cyclone?" she glanced without and then calmly said: "no, this is a straight wind." in ten minutes the tornado was over and we reassembled for the lesson. kansas people seemed to accept occurrences like this as all in the day's work. one weather-story of kansas reminds of another. on my first visit to that state in , the last year of the assembly at topeka, i was standing in front of the hotel, thinking of the historic events in kansas,--where the civil war actually began, though unrealized at the time,--when i saw nearby a rather rough looking, bearded individual. thinking that he might be one of the pioneers, with a story to tell of the early days, i stepped up and began in the conventional way by remarking: "i don't think it's going to rain." he looked me over and responded: "wal, strangers from the east think they know when it's goin' to rain and when it ain't; but us fellers who've lived in kansas thirty years never know whether it'll rain in five minutes or whether it won't rain in three months." the ottawa assembly was one of the best in the chautauqua system. the people of the city built for its use a large tabernacle and halls for classes. beside the park flows the river marais du cygne, "the swamp of the swan," celebrated in one of whittier's poems; and on a bank overlooking the river was erected a hall of philosophy, copying the old hall at chautauqua, except that its columns were lighter and ornamented, improving its appearance. we followed the chautauqua programs as far as possible, having many of the same speakers on our platform and professor sherwin to lead the music, succeeded later by dr. h. r. palmer. the teacher-training work, then called the normal class, was maintained thoroughly, with adult, intermediate, and children's classes,--all wearing badges and following banners. the c. l. s. c., with all its usages of camp fires, recognition day, vigil, procession and arches, was kept prominent. we established a chautauqua boys' club, and girls' club also. we could not conduct a summer school, as the meeting lasted only a fortnight, but we had lecture courses of high character upon literature. kansas contained more old soldiers in its population than any other state in the union, and the grand army day at ottawa was an event of state-wide interest. some distinguished veterans spoke on these occasions, among them general john a. logan, major william mckinley, and general john b. gordon of the confederate army; also private a. j. palmer of new york, whose "company d, the die-no-mores," roused enthusiasm to its summit. one element in ottawa's success was the steadfast loyalty of the city,--a place then of seven or eight thousand people, which enjoyed a special prohibitory law some years earlier than the rest of the state. almost every family had its tent in forest park and lived there day and night during the fortnight of the meetings. another cause of its prosperity was its able, broad, and continuous management. its president for many years was the rev. duncan c. milner, a chautauquan from his boots up to his head, and laboring with untiring energy in its behalf. i must tell an amusing story of our camp fire one summer. as the ground was by this time well occupied, we decided to have the bonfire on a raft out in the stream, while the crowd sang the songs and listened to the speeches from the hall of philosophy on the shore. but when we met at night for the services, the raft and the materials ready for lighting had disappeared! we were told that the janitor had thought it an improvement to have the fire lighted above, in a bend of the river, and float down to the hall. we waited, not exactly pleased with the janitor's unauthorized action, and after a time we heard a mighty racket. the raft with the bonfire was floating down the stream, while around it was a convoy of about a hundred boats, loaded with boys, and each boy blowing a horn or yelling in the most vociferous manner. that put an end to any prospect of songs and speeches, for who could command silence to such a din? but that was not all nor the worst. the janitor tried in vain to anchor his raft, but it still floated downward. we saw our camp fire sail majestically down the river, until it approached the mill dam and the falls, when the boys desperately rowed their boats out of danger. raft and contents went over the falls and the bonfire was quenched in the devouring flood. as we saw it going to its doom, i distinctly heard the word "dam" spoken, and i fear it was intended to include a final "n." but that was the last attempt at a camp fire. when i proposed one at the next season, the entire round table burst out with a roaring laugh. the success of ottawa led to the opening of many other assemblies all over the state, and by degrees weakened this, the mother chautauqua of kansas. it is still maintained, but in a small way, as one of the chain chautauquas. in , a sunday school congress which soon grew into an assembly was held at ocean grove, on the atlantic coast, almost the only place where the camp meeting, the summer resort, and the chautauqua idea have lived together in mutual peace and prosperity. but even at ocean grove the assembly has been overshadowed, almost out of sight, by the camp meeting and the summer boarding-house contingent. for several seasons i took part in the work, and in conducted the children's class. on the next to the last day i told all the children to meet me at our chapel, naming the hour when the tide would be at its lowest, every child to bring a pail and shovel, or a shingle, if his shovel had been lost. we formed a goodly procession of three hundred, marching down the avenue, myself at the head. at the beach i had selected a suitable area, and set the children to constructing out of the damp sand a model two hundred feet long of palestine, the land of which we had been studying in the daily class. it was a sight to see those young nation builders, making the coastline, piling up the mountains, and digging out the jordan valley with its lakes. some biblically inclined gentlemen aided in the supervision, and apparently a thousand people stood above and looked on. when it was finished i walked up and down the model, asking the children questions upon it, and was somewhat surprised to find how much they knew. some whose conduct in the class gave little promise were among the promptest to exploit their knowledge. it was my purpose to leave the map that it might be seen by the multitude until the tide should wash it away. but the boys shouted, "can't we stamp it down now?" and i rather reluctantly consented. palestine has been overrun, and trodden down, and destroyed by armies of assyrians, babylonians, turks, crusaders, and many other warriors, but the land never suffered such a treading down by the gentiles as on that morning at ocean grove. in the year , the wind-wafted seed of chautauqua was borne to the pacific coast and an assembly was founded at pacific grove in monterey, california. i know not whether it remains, but the grove has been the place of meeting for the california methodist conference year after year. another assembly combined with the summer resort was established this year at mountain lake in maryland, a charming spot, whose elevation beside a lovely lake brings coolness to the summer air. one more assembly established in must not be forgotten. in the early years of chautauqua we used to see a plainly clad man, who from his appearance might have been a farmer or a lumberman; in fact, he was the proprietor of a large saw and planing mill. this man was at every meeting, listened intently and took full notes, for he was intelligent, reading good books, and ardent in his devotion to chautauqua. for years he was one of my friends, but, alas! i have forgotten his name. he lived in northern indiana, and in was able to interest enough people to start an assembly at island park at rome city, indiana, not far from the michigan line. he became its secretary, managed its finances, and called upon the rev. a. h. gillet, one of dr. vincent's lieutenants, to conduct it. for many years island park was one of the foremost children of chautauqua in its program and its attendance. it was situated upon an island in a lovely lake, with bridges leading to the mainland, where most of the tents and cottages were placed, and where buildings were erected for the normal classes and the kindergarten; the tabernacle, seating , being upon the island which was bright with flower beds amid winding paths. for years island park was a center of chautauqua influence and strong in promoting the c. l. s. c., but like many other assemblies, it failed to receive financial support and was abandoned. two great assemblies, both closely following the path of chautauqua, were founded in the year . one of these was monona lake, near madison, wis. it was established by the state sunday school association, its founder and first president being the hon. elihu colman of fond du lac. like ottawa in kansas, it was an assembly of tents, not of cottages. the first session, a small gathering, was held in on the shores of green lake, one of the five hundred lakes of wisconsin; but in the following year it was removed to monona lake, one of the five surrounding the capital city, madison. after mr. colman, the rev. f. s. stein, d.d., became president, and for nearly a generation, mr. moseley, a bookseller of madison, was its efficient secretary, business manager, and organizer of its programs. the standards of monona lake were high and its work was thorough, but for lack of adequate support, it was given up after nearly thirty years of usefulness and the point became an amusement park. among those prominent in the early seasons at monona lake was the rev. o. p. bestor, who was active in promoting the c. l. s. c. he brought with him his son, who began as a small boy attending the assembly, and formed the assembly-habit so strongly that in the after years he grew up to be the president of the chautauqua institution--albert e. bestor, ll.d. the other notable chautauqua started in was the new england assembly at south framingham, mass., originally in closer affiliation with the original chautauqua than any other assembly, for it chose dr. vincent as superintendent of instruction, and many of its speakers were also on the chautauqua program. it drew from all the new england states, until its success led to the establishment of other assemblies at fryeburg, maine, at northampton, mass., and at plainville, conn. one of dr. vincent's assistants at the framingham assembly was the dr. a. e. dunning, at first congregational secretary of sunday school work, later editor of the congregationalist. dr. vincent, after a few years, gave the assembly into the hands of dr. dunning and the writer, and sometimes we conducted it jointly; at other times in successive years. on an eminence overlooking the grounds and the adjoining lake arose another hall of philosophy, like the one at chautauqua, and all the chautauqua customs were followed--c. l. s. c., normal class, children's classes, and the rest. the first president was the rev. william r. clark, who was instrumental in locating the assembly upon the ground of a camp meeting which it succeeded. it was continued for more than a generation, but at last succumbed to changing times. perhaps it might have continued longer, if throughout its history it had not been encumbered by the debts of the former camp meeting association. our chapter has already grown beyond bounds. we would like to tell the stories of monteagle, tennessee, of mount dora, florida, of de funiak springs, also in florida, of the arkansas and dakota and southern california assemblies. in fifteen years after chautauqua began there were nearly a hundred assemblies, each independent of all the others, yet all in friendly relation to the oldest and greatest of them all, the mother--chautauqua by the lake. chapter xxv younger daughters of chautauqua we have seen how chautauquas sprung up throughout the land, inspired by the example of the original assembly beside the lake. all these were independent, arranging their own programs and securing their own speakers. chautauqua never took a copyright upon the name or a patent for the idea. it was natural, however, for many of these assemblies to combine their interests, for it soon found that half a dozen chautauquas in the same section could save expenses by employing the same group of speakers and passing them on from one gathering to another. there were already lyceum bureaus offering lecturers and entertainers. at first the assemblies secured a few of their speakers from these offices, and after a few years their entire programs were arranged in conjunction with the bureaus. finally the lyceum agencies began to organize and conduct assemblies directly, and thus the chautauqua circuit or the system of a chautauqua chain was developed. one office in chicago, the redpath bureau, is said to conduct three thousand chautauqua assemblies every year, others have charge of a thousand apiece, while there are lesser chains of fifty, twenty-five or a dozen assemblies. i have been officially informed that in the year , ten thousand chain chautauquas were held in the united states and canada. they are to be found everywhere, but their most popular field is in the middle west, where "the chautauqua" is expected every year by the farming communities. these bureaus and the "talent" which they employ have been combined in an organization for mutual interest, to avoid reduplication in the same locality, to secure their workers and arrange their programs. this is named the international lyceum and chautauqua association, holding an annual convention at which the organizers and the participants upon the programs come face to face and form their engagements. the circuit system has arisen largely through economic causes; the saving of expense by efficient organization, the elimination of long railroad jumps from assembly to assembly, guarantee of continuous engagement to attractive speakers, better publicity, and the concentration of responsibility. it is found that the most successful chautauquas are held, not in cities, nor even in large towns, but in the smaller places. the town of a thousand, or even one as small as five hundred inhabitants, during its annual chautauqua week will rally from the farms and hamlets two thousand people to hear a popular lecture, five or seven thousand during the week. in each place an advance agent appears, interviews the business men, the ministers, and the heads of any clubs or improvement societies, and obtains pledges of support by the sale of a definite number of tickets. college boys make up the tent crews; a scout master organizes the boy scouts; and trained experts arrange for the advertising. the "morning-hour men" give lectures in courses of uplifting nature on civic and national questions; the popular features of the program are supplied by entertainers, musical troupes, bands, artists, and dramatic companies. it is a fact of deeper significance than many recognize that political leaders find here the greatest forum for their messages. many of these orators receive more than fees for their speeches; they come near the heart of the people, they reach their constituencies and disseminate their views more widely than through any other agency. some political reformers have won not only prominence, but power through these chain chautauquas. it may be remembered that while the hon. william jennings bryan was secretary of state he received some criticism and even ridicule for "hitting the chautauqua trail" and "going off with the yodelers." on that subject the _baltimore sun_ said in an editorial: if it could be demonstrated, we would be willing to wager that the average chautauqua student has a far better knowledge of public questions than the average of those who sneer. and whether he likes it or not, no public official of to-day can afford to disregard the chautauqua movement. mr. bryan himself gave this testimony in the _review of reviews_: the chautauqua affords one of the best opportunities now presented a public speaker for the discussion of questions of interest to the people. the audience is a select one, always composed of the thoughtful element in the community, and as they pay admission, they stay to hear. i believe that a considerable part of the progress that is now being made along the line of moral and political reform is traceable to the influence of the chautauqua. a writer in _the outlook_ (september , ) says: i have studied the chautauqua speakers. they command the admiration of the honest critic. they deal with serious subjects as experts. they carry men, women and children on to the conclusion of the longest lecture by knowing when to lighten at the proper moment with a story or a lilt of humor, or sometimes a local reference. said a village woman in my hearing of a fellow-speaker on the problems of patriotism, "i thought at first he would be hard to follow, but i surely hated when he had to stop." the thermometer was reported to be ° in the tent. the speaker held the rapt attention of the people for an hour and a half in a philosophical presentation of the causes of the war and our responsibilities in consequence. it was like reading a solid book and condensing it with marked success into one hearing. it was typical, and twenty millions are reported to be listening to such addresses in chautauqua tents the country over. in the magazine _the world to-day_ (september, ), i read the following by george l. flude: a few years ago i saw senator robert m. la follette address a crowd of eight thousand people at waterloo, iowa. for two hours and a half he jammed insurgent republicanism into that crowd. he was at that time the only insurgent in the party and had not been named yet. the crowd took it all in. they were there to be instructed, not to hear a partisan speech. hence their attitude, regardless of party affiliation, was a receptive one. he absolutely converted that crowd into insurgents and they did not know it. for five years la follette crammed and jammed "non-partisan" talks into chautauqua crowds through iowa, illinois, missouri, ohio, nebraska, and kansas. the average audience was probably about four thousand and he met sixty or more audiences each summer; , people inoculated with insurgency by one man. occasionally an audience finds that the lecture is not what was looked for. some years ago a western assembly engaged senator la follette, and from the list of his subjects chose "the world's greatest tragedy," expecting a sensational attack upon the greed of capitalists. a great crowd assembled to see "senator bob jump on the trusts." he gave his well-known literary lecture on _hamlet_, a critical appreciation, without a word on current affairs. the crowd sat, first puzzled, then baffled, and at last went away dejected. a newspaper of wide circulation, _the christian science monitor_, said: by far the most active and keenly interested voters of the country, with their leaders, forceful in shaping progressive legislation, have come during the last decade from states where this chautauqua method of cultivation of the adult population has been most steadily used, and the end is not yet, since now the system is being organized in a thorough-going way never known before. public men, educators, artists, authors, pioneers in discovery of unknown lands or of secrets of nature, who get the ear of this huge audience season after season, come nearer to the heart of the nation and observe its ways of living better than by any other method. the old mother chautauqua by the lake would not like to be held responsible for all the utterances under the tents of her ten thousand daughters. for that matter, she would not endorse everything spoken upon her own platform in the amphitheater, where "free speech" is the motto and the most contradictory opinions are presented. but she must recognize that her daughters have wielded a mighty power in forming the political and moral convictions of the nation. the bell which rang at fair point on august , , to open the first assembly, might be compared to "the shot heard 'round the world" from concord bridge in , for in answer to its call ten thousand chautauquas have arisen on the american continent. the question might be asked, why have none of the ten thousand rivaled the first, the original chautauqua? many of these opened with a far better outfit of external accommodations, with more money expended upon their programs, with greater advertising publicity, with more popular attractions. yet now at the period of almost fifty years, not another among the ten thousand, either of the earlier or the later assemblies, holds a two months' program, conducts courses of study of a wide range, or brings together even one quarter of the assemblage which every year gathers upon the old chautauqua ground. all the assemblies which were established with the highest promise have either been abandoned or are continued as chain chautauquas, meeting for a week only. let us endeavor to answer the question--why does the mother-chautauqua still stand supreme? in the judgment of this writer, who has known chautauqua almost from the beginning, and has taken part in fifty similar gatherings, the reasons for its supremacy are easily seen and stated. it was established by two men of vision, one of whom was also a practical man of business, and both men of high ideals which they never lowered and from which they and their successors have never swerved. in its plans from first to last, there was a unique blending of religion, education, and recreation. no one of these three elements has been permitted to override the two others, and neither of them has been sacrificed to win popularity, although on the other side, popular features have been sought for within just limits. never has the aim of chautauqua been to make money; it has had no dividends and no stockholders. it has opened avenues and leased lots to hundreds of people, but it has not sought financial gain. neither of its founders nor any of their associates have been enriched by it, for all profits--when there have been any--have been expended upon improvements or enlargement of plans. it has shown the progressive spirit, while firm in its principles, open to new ideas, willing to listen to both sides of every question. it has sought to attract and to benefit all classes in the community, not setting the poor against the rich, nor the rich against the poor, giving a welcome to scholars of every view and to churches of every doctrine. it has maintained a continuous, consistent administration, fortunate in finding able and broad-minded men to carry forward the conceptions of its founders. few changes have been made in its management and these have been without a revolution or a renunciation of principles. men at the head have changed, but not the policy of the institution. it has remained unshaken in its loyalty to the christian religion and penetrated through and through with the christian spirit, without flying the flag or wearing the badge of any one denomination of christians. these have been the principles that placed chautauqua at the front in its beginning and have kept it at the front through forty-eight years. appendix distinguished preachers at chautauqua dr. lyman abbott dr. charles p. aked rev. hugh black bishop c. h. brent bishop f. s. bristol bishop phillips brooks dean charles r. brown prof. sylvester burnham bishop william burt dr. s. parkes cadman rev. francis e. clark rev. r. h. conwell bishop r. cleveland cox rev. t. l. cuyler dr. e. w. donald dr. daniel dorchester rev. samuel a. eliot bishop samuel fallows pres. w. h. p. faunce dr. harry emerson fosdick bishop cyrus w. foss bishop charles h. fowler dr. james a. francis dr. washington gladden bishop d. a. goodsell dr. george a. gordon dr. f. w. gunsaulus dr. john hall dr. n. d. hillis dr. p. s. henson dean george hodges bishop e. e. hoss rev. lynn hough bishop edwin h. hughes dr. charles e. jefferson bishop a. w. leonard dr. r. s. macarthur dr. a. mackenzie pres. w. d. mackenzie bishop f. j. mcconnell bishop w. f. mcdowell dr. w. p. merrill bishop c. b. mitchell chaplain w. h. milburn dr. philip s. moxom bishop w. f. oldham bishop j. t. peck bishop h. c. potter rev. g. a. johnston ross bishop matthew simpson dr. t. dewitt talmage bishop boyd vincent bishop john h. vincent bishop w. d. walker bishop h. w. warren bishop herbert welch dr. h. l. willett bishop c. d. williams dr. c. f. wishart dr. cornelius woelfkin rabbi louis wolsey college presidents and other educators prof. herbert b. adams pres. e. b. andrews pres. j. b. angell prof. h. t. bailey pres. j. h. barrows prof. b. p. bowne prof. h. h. boyesen prof. p. h. boynton pres. e. b. bryan pres. n. m. butler com. e. e. brown pres. j. h. carlisle com. p. p. claxton prof. a. s. cook pres. w. h. crawford prof. m. l. d'ooge prof. a. s. draper pres. c. w. eliot prof. r. t. ely pres. john finley prof. alcee fortier pres. w. g. frost pres. c. c. hall pres. g. stanley hall pres. w. r. harper dr. w. t. harris prof. a. b. hart mr. walter l. hervey prof. mark hopkins mr. james l. hughes prof. william james pres. d. s. jordan pres. henry c. king prof. c. f. lavell pres. h. n. maccracken dean shailer mathews pres. j. e. mcfadyen pres. edward olson mrs. alice f. palmer prof. george m. palmer col. francis w. parker prof. f. g. peabody pres. a. v. v. raymond pres. b. p. raymond pres. rush rhees pres. j. g. schurman pres. julius h. seelye prof. thomas d. seymour prof. morse stephens pres. e. e. sparks pres. c. f. thwing prof. moses c. tyler dr. herman von holst pres. booker t. washington prof. l. a. weigle pres. b. i. wheeler pres. c. d. wright authors and editors dr. lyman abbott mrs. g. r. alden (pansy) mr. norman angell mr. john k. bangs prof. earl barnes rabbi h. berkowitz mr. john g. brooks dr. j. m. buckley mr. richard burton mr. geo. w. cable mr. ralph connor mr. g. willis cooke rev. s. mcchord crothers dr. w. j. dawson prof. henry drummond dr. a. e. dunning mr. john fiske mr. john fox mr. hamlin garland mr. h. a. gibbons rabbi r. j. h. gottheil mr. john t. graves rabbi moses gries mr. edward h. griggs dr. edward e. hale mr. norman hapgood col. t. w. higginson dr. r. s. holmes mr. hamilton w. mabie mr. s. s. mcclure mr. donald g. mitchell dr. r. g. moulton mr. thomas nelson page rear admiral peary prof. bliss perry miss agnes repplier mr. e. j. ridgway mr. j. whitcomb riley mr. e. thompson seton mr. elliott f. shepard prof. e. e. slosson judge a. w. tourgee dr. leon h. vincent gen. lew wallace dr. wm. hayes ward mr. henry watterson mrs. kate d. wiggin prof. c. t. winchester leaders in social reform miss jane addams miss susan b. anthony mrs. mary antin mrs. maude b. booth mrs. carrie c. catt hon. everett colby mr. anthony comstock dr. kate b. davis mr. w. r. george mr. john b. gough mrs. julia ward howe judge ben b. lindsey mrs. lucia a. mead mr. john mitchell prof. scott nearing mr. thomas m. osborne prof. francis peabody mrs. p. v. pennybacker mr. jacob a. riis mr. raymond robins rev. anna h. shaw prof. e. a. steiner rev. charles stetzle mr. j. g. phelps stokes mrs. rose pastor stokes dr. josiah strong prof. graham taylor commander booth-tucker mrs. booth-tucker hon. robert watchorn miss francis e. williard mr. robert woods mr. john g. woolley prof. charles zeublin political leaders pres. u. s. grant pres. r. b. hayes pres. j. a. garfield pres. wm. mckinley pres. theodore roosevelt pres. w. h. taft hon. geo. w. alger gen. russell a. alger gov. g. w. atkinson mrs. george bass gov. j. a. beaver gen. john c. black hon. w. j. bryan gov. geo. a. carlson hon. schuyler colfax lieut. gov. l. s. chanler senator j. p. dolliver gov. joseph w. folk gen. john b. gordon gov. h. s. hadley hon. murat halstead senator m. a. hanna miss mary garrett hay gov. f. w. higgins gen. o. o. howard gov. c. e. hughes judge w. t. jerome gov. r. m. lafollette gen. john a. logan mayor j. p. mitchel gov. b. b. odell gov. r. e. pattison hon. w. h. prendergast gov. e. s. stuart gov. r. l. taylor hon. g. w. wickersham gen. leonard wood distinguished foreigners the earl of aberdeen the countess of aberdeen hon. percy alden canon s. a. barnett rev. joseph a. beet ram chandra bose the right hon. james bryce rev. r. j. campbell sir chentung lieng chang mrs. l. ormiston chant dr. marcus dods prof. henry drummond mr. w. aver duncan principal a. m. fairbairn mr. j. g. fitch prof. t. r. glover the bishop of hereford mrs. forbes-robertson hall prof. j. stoughton holborn prince larazovich hreblianovich charles rann kennedy prof. j. p. mahaffy prof. boni maury rev. mark guy pearse rev. dr. percival (rugby) prof. william m. ramsay mr. owen seaman rev. w. o. simpson dr. george adam smith mrs. philip snowden lady henry somerset miss kate stevens the baroness von suttner rev. w. l. watkinson chautauqua recognition day orations bishop h. w. warren "brain and heart" ' dr. lyman abbott "the democracy of learning" ' dr. w. c. wilkinson "literature as a good of life" ' dr. e. e. hale "questions and answers" ' pres. j. h. carlisle "redeeming the time" ' dr. j. t. duryea "the true culture" ' bishop h. w. warren "the possibilities of culture" ' dr. david swing "the beautiful and the useful" ' mrs. alice f. palmer "education is life" ' mrs. mary a. livermore "the highest aristocracy" ' dr. f. w. gunsaulus "the ideal of culture" ' dr. joseph cook "columnar truths in scripture" ' dr. e. e. hale "the education of a prince" ' dr. h. w. mabie "literature as a resource" ' pres. c. w. eliot "america's contribution to civilization" ' dr. j. f. goucher "individualism" ' bishop j. h. vincent "the chautauqua idea" ' gov. g. w. atkinson "modern educational requirements" ' pres. a. v. v. raymond "education in its relation to life" ' pres. e. b. andrews "problems of greater america" ' mr. e. h. griggs "the use of the margin" ' hon. w. t. harris "university and school extension as supported by the church" ' mr. e. h. griggs "self-culture through the vocation" ' miss jane addams "work and play as factors in education" ' mr. e. h. griggs "public education and the problem of democracy" ' pres. e. h. hughes "knowledge and power" ' pres. h. c. king "revelation of personality" ' pres. w. h. p. faunce "ideals of modern education" ' mr. e. h. griggs "literature and culture" ' dr. g. e. vincent "the larger selfishness" ' dr. earl barnes "being born again" ' prof. s. c. schmucker "what next?" ' dean shailer mathews "vocations and avocations" ' pres. e. b. bryan "who are good citizens?" ' mr. e. h. griggs "world-war and ethics" ' dr. g. e. vincent "the meaning of america" ' bishop f. j. mcconnell "ideals of leadership" ' bishop c. h. brent "the opportunities of the mind" ' dr. l. howard mellish "the way into life's greater values" class directory, chautauqua home reading circles--c. l. s. c. =class , "the pioneers"= motto--"from height to height." emblem--the hatchet. president--j. l. hurlbut, bloomfield, n. j. secretary--miss may e. wightman, main st., pittsburgh, pa. treasurer--mrs. l. j. harter, chautauqua, n. y. =class , "the vincents"= motto--"step by step, we gain the height." emblem--the sweet pea. president--mrs. thos. alexander, franklin, pa. secretary--miss anne hitchcock, burton, o. treasurer--miss m. j. perrine, chautauqua, n. y. =class , "the irrepressibles"= motto--"press forward, he conquers who will." emblem--the golden rod. president--miss anna mcdonald, magnolia ave., long beach, calif. treasurer--mr. f. a. kinsley, ashland ave., buffalo, n. y. secretary-trustee--mrs. lizzie wilcox, chautauqua, n. y. =class , "the invincibles"= motto--"press on, reaching after those things which are before." emblem--the heliotrope. president--mr. e. c. dean, delphi, n. y. secretary-treasurer--mrs. t. j. bentley, springboro, pa. =class , "the progressives"= motto--"we study for light to bless with light." emblem--the aster. president--miss sara soule, chautauqua, n. y. secretary--mrs. m. v. rowley, vassar st., cleveland, o. treasurer--miss lucy woodwell, indiana ave., somerville, mass. trustee--dr. ili long, main st., buffalo, n. y. =class , "the pansy"= motto--"neglect not the gift that is within thee." emblem--the pansy. president--mr. h. e. barrett, syracuse, n. y. secretary--miss alice m. bentley, meadville, pa. treasurer--miss letitia flocker, evergreen road, r. f. d., n. s., pittsburgh, pa. trustee--miss adell clapp, chautauqua, n. y. =class , "the plymouth rock"= motto--"let us be seen by our deeds." emblem--the geranium. president--mr. g. w. bartlett, hamburg, n. y. secretary-treasurer--miss agnes s. chalmers, amsterdam, n. y. trustee--mr. g. w. bartlett, hamburg, n. y. =class , "the argonauts"= motto--"knowledge unused for the good of others is more vain than unused gold." emblem--the daisy. president--rev. j. e. rudisill, columbus, o. secretary--mrs. mary c. morris, point pleasant, n. j. treasurer--mrs. d. f. emery, greenville, pa. trustee--rev. c. c. creegan, marietta, o. =class , "the pierians"= motto--"redeeming the time." emblem--the tube rose. president--rev. j. r. morris, homer city, pa. secretary-treasurer-trustee--miss ada benner, center ave., pittsburgh, pa. =class , "the olympians"= motto--"so run that ye may obtain." emblem--the laurel and the white rose. president--mrs. george t. guernsey, independence, kans. secretary-treasurer--miss marie a. daniels, new britain, conn. trustee--mrs. george t. guernsey, independence, kans. =class , "columbia"= motto--"seek and ye shall find." emblem--the carnation. president--mrs. clara l. mccray, bradford, pa. secretary--miss annie e. jackson, port deposit, me. treasurer--mrs. chas. b. adams, zanesville, o. trustee--mrs. clara l. mccray, bradford, pa. =class , "the athenians"= motto--"study to be what you wish to seem." emblem--the acorn. president--mrs. j. j. matthews, n. negley ave., pittsburgh, pa. secretary-treasurer--mrs. nettie c. rice, ebensburgh, pa. trustee--prof. thomas h. paden, new concord, o. =class , "the philomatheans"= motto--"ubi mel, ibi apes." emblem--the clover. president--dr. a. c. ellis, oil city, pa. secretary-treasurer-trustee--mrs. sanford lynn porter, chautauqua, n. y. =class , "the pathfinders"= motto--"truth will make you free." emblem--the nasturtium. president--mrs. george p. hukill, franklin, pa. treasurer--mrs. e. l. ploss, chautauqua, n. y. secretary-trustee--miss catherine lawrence, e. rd st., brooklyn, n. y. =class , "the truth-seekers"= motto--"truth is eternal." emblem--the forget-me-not. the greek lamp. president--mrs. margaret a. seaton, e. th st., cleveland, o. secretary-treasurer--miss emily a. birchgard, penrose ave., cleveland, o. trustee--mr. john r. connor, chautauqua, n. y. =class , "the romans"= motto--"veni, vidi, vici." emblem--the ivy. president--mrs. harriet m. dunn, brooklyn, mich. secretary-treasurer--mrs. anna heilman, greenville, pa. trustee--mrs. harriet m. dunn, brooklyn, mich. =class , "the laniers"= motto--"the humblest life that lives may be divine." emblem--the violet. president--mrs. g. e. tanner, chautauqua, n. y. secretary-treasurer-trustee--miss fannie b. collins, grandview, o. =class , "the patriots"= motto--"fidelity, fraternity." emblem--the flag. president--mrs. e. e. sparks, macon st., brooklyn, n. y. secretary--mrs. m. barnard, e. th st., cleveland, o. treasurer--mrs. j. v. ritts, butler, pa. trustee--mrs. ella richards, chautauqua, n. y. =class , "the nineteenth century"= motto--"faith in the god of truth; hope for the unfolding centuries; charity toward all endeavor." emblem--the evergreen. president--mrs. j. h. montgomery, chautauqua, n. y. secretary-treasurer--mrs. l. b. watts, cabanna ave., st. louis, mo. trustee--mrs. j. h. montgomery, chautauqua, n. y. =class , "the twentieth century"= motto--"light, love, life." emblem--the palm. president--mrs. lucy mendell george, wellsburg, w. va. secretary--miss elizabeth j. steward, westwood, n. j. treasurer--mrs. clara lawrence, e. rd st., brooklyn, n. y. trustee--miss margaret hackley, georgetown, ky. =class , "the altrurians"= motto--"not for self, but for all." emblem--golden glow. president--mrs. j. a. walker, brownwood, tex. secretary-treasurer-trustee--miss frances davidson, chautauqua, n. y. =class , "the quarter century"= motto--"what is excellent is permanent." emblem--the cornflower. president--mr. edward e. sparks, macon st., brooklyn, n. y. secretary--miss ida m. quimby, spring st., east orange, n. j. treasurer--miss evelyn dewey, spring st., east orange, n. j. trustee--mr. edward e. sparks, macon st., brooklyn, n. y. =class , "lewis miller"= motto--"the horizon widens as we climb." emblem--clematis. president--mrs. laura johnston, w. th st., oil city, pa. secretary-treasurer--miss louise nicholson, union st., blue island, ill. trustee--miss grace e. beck, mahoning st., monongahela, pa. =class , "the cosmopolitan"= motto--"a man's reach should exceed his grasp." emblem--the cosmos. president--dr. james babbitt, philadelphia, pa. secretary-treasurer--mrs. j. j. bowden, johnstown, pa. trustee--miss minnie edgerton, prospect ave., buffalo, n. y. =class , "john ruskin"= motto--"to love light and seek knowledge." emblem--easter lily. president--mrs. theo. hall, jr., ashtabula, o. secretary-treasurer-trustee--miss irena roach, box , round lake, n. y. =class , "george washington"= motto--"the aim of education is character." emblem--the scarlet salvia. president--mrs. geo. coblentz, w. th st., erie, pa. secretary-treasurer--mrs. a. h. marvin, oberlin, o. trustee--miss rannie webster, chautauqua, n. y. =class , "tennyson"= motto--"to strive, to seek, to find, to yield." emblem--the red rose. president--prof. samuel c. schmucker, west chester, pa. secretary-treasurer-trustee--miss sarah e. ford, court st., binghamton, n. y. =class , "dante"= motto--"on and fear not." emblem--the grapevine. president--mrs. o. b. shallenberger, beaver, pa. secretary-treasurer--mrs. hiram j. baldwin, falconer, n. y. trustee--mrs. thos. b. hill, chautauqua, n. y. =class , "gladstone"= motto--"life is a great and noble calling." emblem--the beech. president--miss nannie s. stockett, annapolis, md. secretary--mr. james bird, ann st., parkersburg, w. va. treasurer--mr. j. j. mcwilliams, euclid ave., cleveland, o. =class , "longfellow"= motto--"act, act in the living present." emblem--the young hiawatha and the hydrangea. president--mrs. m. l. chattin, temple, tex. secretary--mrs. effa brown, mckeesport, pa. treasurer--mrs. l. b. yale, chautauqua, n. y. trustee--mrs. walter king, w. rd st., new york city. =class , "shakespeare"= motto--"to thine own self be true." emblem--eglantine. president--mrs. s. f. clarke, th st., freeport, pa. secretary--miss m. e. phillips, marion, ala. treasurer-trustee--mrs. s. f. clarke, th st., freeport, pa. =class , "athene"= motto--"self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control, these three alone lead life to sovereign power." emblem--the owl. president--rev. w. c. mcknight, birmingham, mich. secretary--mr. robert adams, warren, pa. treasurer--mrs. alice j. mcknight, birmingham, mich. trustee--mrs. j. h. knepper, michigan ave., buffalo, n. y. =class , "dickens"= motto--"the voice of time cries to man, 'advance.'" emblem--wild rose. president--prof. chas. e. rhodes, potomac ave., buffalo, n. y. secretary--miss rose webster, chautauqua, n. y. treasurer-trustee--miss eleanor clark, king ave., pittsburgh, pa. =class , "jane addams"= motto--"life more abundant." emblem--american laurel. president--mr. w. h. hamlin, tougaloo, miss. secretary-treasurer--mrs. a. f. b. morris, thomas bldg., pittsburgh, pa. trustee--mrs. ida b. cole, chautauqua, n. y. =class , "the internationals"= motto--"knowledge maketh all mankind akin." emblem--the holly. president--miss laura hamilton, chautauqua, n. y. secretary-treasurer-trustee--miss amelia h. bumstead, st. petersburg, fla. =class , "emerson"= motto--"let us know the truth." emblem--the cat-tail. president--mrs. john orr, hotel san remo, new york city. secretary--mrs. t. d. samford, opelika, ala. treasurer--mr. louis h. walden, norwich, conn. trustee--mrs. o. g. franks, chautauqua, n. y. =class , "the arthurians"= motto--"live pure, speak true, right the wrong, follow the king." emblem--the gladiolus. president--miss emma t. mcintyre, eustis, fla. secretary--miss margaret m. chalmers, hagaman, n. y. treasurer-trustee--mrs. chas. e. rhodes, potomac ave., buffalo, n. y. =class , "america"= motto--"peace and democracy." emblem--the american beauty rose. president--mrs. s. e. booth, n. harrison ave., wilmington, del. secretary--mrs. ethel m. vanderburger, melrose st., rochester, n. y. trustee--mrs. anna m. fay, brocton, n. y. =class , "the optimists"= motto--"nothing less than the best." emblem--the pink aster. president--dr. george hobbie, delaware ave., buffalo, n. y. treasurer--miss jessie m. leslie, chautauqua, n. y. secretary-trustee--mrs. chas. c. taylor, akron, o. =class , "the adelphians"= motto--"omnia vincit amor." "love conquers all." emblem--the woodbine. president--prof. frank e. ewart, colgate university, hamilton, n. y. secretary--miss harriet sheldon, the seneca, broad st., columbus, o. treasurer-trustee--mrs. frances akin, chautauqua, n. y. =class , "the crusaders"= motto--"be not content to read history, make it." emblem--the oak leaf. president--mr. o. c. herrick, rodman st., pittsburgh, pa. secretary--miss alameda edwards, mt. hope road, cincinnati, o. treasurer--mr. robert cleland, northumberland ave., pittsburgh, pa. trustee--mrs. evalyn dorman, chautauqua, n. y. =class , "the victory"= motto--"victory." emblem--the poppy. the flags of the allies. president--miss elizabeth skinner, dunedin, fla. recording secretary--mrs. r. w. johnston, shady ave., pittsburgh, pa. corresponding secretary--mrs. john w. hanna, fourth st., braddock, pa. treasurer-trustee--mrs. r. i. park, chautauqua, n. y. =class , "the new era"= motto--"enter to learn, go forth to serve." emblem--the blue larkspur and the marigold. president--mrs. f. m. beacom, w. th st., wilmington, del. secretary-treasurer--mrs. f. n. prechtel, cherokee, ia. the trustees of chautauqua n. b.--the sunday school assembly of and was held under the direction of a committee from the sunday school union of the methodist episcopal church, the grounds at fair point being owned by the erie conference camp meeting association. in may, , the property was transferred to the board of trustees of the national sunday school assembly. the first chautauqua trustees (sunday school assembly) c. aultman, canton, o. a. bradley, pittsburgh, pa. clinton m. ball frank c. carley, louisville, ky. w. p. cooke adams davis, corry, pa. george w. gifford, mayville, n. y. j. c. gifford, westfield, n. y. j. j. henderson, meadville, pa. herman jones, erie, pa. c. l. jeffords, jamestown, n. y. isaac moore, mayville, n. y. lewis miller, akron, o. jacob miller, canton, o. h. a. massey, toronto hiram a. pratt, chautauqua, n. y. john w. pitts, jamestown, n. y. david preston, detroit, mich. f. h. root, buffalo, n. y. e. a. skinner, westfield, n. y. sardius steward, ashville, n. y. john h. vincent, plainfield, n. j. amos k. warren, mayville, n. y. w. w. wythe, chautauqua, n. y. the first trustees of the chautauqua institution ( ) =general officers= john h. vincent, chancellor w. h. hickman, president of trustees george e. vincent, principal of instruction joseph c. neville, chairman executive board ira m. miller, secretary scott brown, general director warren f. walworth, treasurer =trustees= noah f. clark, oil city, pa. william j. cornell, chautauqua, n. y. w. a. duncan, syracuse, n. y. e. g. dusenbury, portville, n. y. c. d. firestone, columbus, o. james m. guffey, pittsburgh, pa. w. h. hickman, greencastle, ind. frank w. higgins, olean, n. y. j. franklin hunt, chautauqua, n. y. frederick w. hyde, jamestown, n. y. julius king, cleveland, o. chester d. massey, toronto, canada ira m. miller, akron, o. joseph c. neville, chicago, ill. s. fred. nixon, westfield, n. y. frank m. potter, chautauqua, n. y. f. h. rockwell, warren, pa. a. m. schoyer, pittsburgh, pa. w. h. shortt, youngsville, pa. clement studebaker, south bend, ind. william thomas, meadville, pa. george e. vincent, chicago, ill. warren f. walworth, cleveland, o. =local officers= george w. rowland, superintendent william g. bissell, m.d., health officer board of trustees-- arthur e. bestor, chautauqua, n. y., president chautauqua institution ernest cawcroft, fenton building, jamestown, n. y. noah f. clark, magee building, pittsburgh, pa. melvil dewey, president lake placid club, essex co., n. y. george w. gerwig, secretary board of education, pittsburgh. e. snell hall, forest ave., jamestown, n. y. louis j. harter, chautauqua, n. y. fred w. hyde, american bankers association, washington, d. c. j. c. mcdowell, farmers bank building, pittsburgh. vincent massey, massey harris company, ltd., toronto, canada. shailer mathews, dean divinity school, university of chicago. ira m. miller, akron, o. mrs. robert a. miller, west th st., new york city. s. i. munger, dallas, tex. mrs. percy v. pennybacker, whitis ave., austin, tex. frank m. potter, mayville, n. y. william l. ransom, broadway, new york city. a. m. schoyer, pennsylvania lines, pittsburgh. alburn e. skinner, warren-nash motor company, west rd st., new york city. clement studebaker, jr., south bend, ind. h. a. truesdale, conneaut, o. george e. vincent, president rockefeller foundation, broadway, new york city. charles e. welch, welch grape juice company, westfield, n. y. =honorary trustees= scott brown, south la salle st., chicago. e. g. dusenbury, portville, n. y. george greer, new castle, pa. w. h. hickman, montpelier, ind. julius king, julius king optical company, cleveland, o. chester d. massey, jarvis st., toronto, canada. z. l. white, columbus, o. =educational council= lyman abbott, editor _outlook_, new york city. jane addams, hull house, chicago. percy h. boynton, university of chicago, chicago. frank chapin bray, league of nations union, new york city. john graham brooks, francis ave., cambridge, mass. elmer e. brown, chancellor new york university, new york city. richard t. ely, university of wisconsin, madison, wis. w. h. p. faunce, president brown university, providence, r. i. j. m. gibson, linnell close, hampstead gardens, london, england. frank w. gunsaulus, president armour institute, chicago. g. stanley hall, president clark university, worcester, mass. jesse l. hurlbut, park ave., bloomfield, n. j. f. g. peabody, harvard university, cambridge, mass. sir george adam smith, principal aberdeen university, aberdeen, scotland. charles david williams, bishop of michigan, detroit, mich. index abbott, lyman, x, , , , , abbott, e. h., aberdeen, lord and lady, ackerman, miss j. t., adams, b. m., adams, h. b., , adams, thomas, addams, jane, , , , ainslee, peter, aked, c. f., , , alden, mr. and mrs. g. r., , , , alden, joseph, alden, percy, , alden, r. m., alger, g. w., alger, r. a., alumni hall, amphitheater, , , anderson, w. g., , andrews, e. b., angell, norman, anthony, susan b., , antin, mary, ark, the, arts and crafts, , athletic club, atkinson, g. w., viii, auditorium, the old, aula christi, automobiles, axson, stockton, babbitt, dean r., bailey, h. t., , , , , bailey, major-general, bailey, m. m., bain, g. w., , bainbridge, w. s., baird, a. j., baker, mrs. bertha k., , , , bangs, j. k., , baptist headquarters, barnard, charles, barnes, earl, , , , , barrows, j. h., , barton, j. l., bass, mrs. george, bay view assembly, beard, frank, , , , , , , , , , , , beard, mrs. helen, , , , beaver, j. a., , beecher, t. k., , beecher, w. j., beginnings of chautauqua, bellamy, g. a., benfey, ida, bengough, bestor, a. e., , , , , , , , , , , bird and tree club, birney, mrs. t. w., bisbee, may m., bishop, mrs. e. m., bishop, i. p., black, hugh, , black, john c., blackburn, w. m., blichfeldt, e. h., bliss, p. p., , boarding houses, bolin, jacob, gymnasium, bolton, c. e. and s. k., boole, mrs. e. a., booth, ballington, , booth, maud ballington, , booth-tucker, emma, booth-tucker, frederick, bose, r. c., , boston society for encouragement of home study, bowne, b. p., bowker, r. r., boyesen, h. h., xv, boynton, g. m., boynton, p. f., , boys' club, bradford, a. h., bray, f. c., brent, bishop, broadus, j. a., brooks, j. g., xii, , brooks, phillips, xvii, brown, c. r., brown, judge w., brown, mrs. kenneth, brown, mrs. m. m., brown, scott, bruce, wallace, bruch, mrs. kate p., brule, Ã�tienne, bryan, e. b., , , , bryan, w. j., ix, , bryant, w. c., bryce, james, ix, buckley, j. m., , , , burbank, a. p., burdette, r. j., burr, c. f., burt, bishop, burton, richard, , , , , butler, j. w., butler, n. m., cable, g. w., , cadman, s. p., , , , calder, w. m., campbell, r. j., camp fire, camp meetings, , carleton, w. m., , , carlson, g. a., carpenter, f. g., carroll, mitchell, , case, c. c., , catt, mrs. c. c., , celoron, bienville de, centennial, national, , chafin, e. w., chamberlin, miss g. l., chanler, lieut. governor, chart, mrs. l. o., chapel, the old, chapman, j. w., , , chautauqua assembly, , ; catholicity of, ; club life, ; expansion of, ; gate fee, ; incorporation, ; restrictions, ; salute, ; songs, , ; sunday at, , chautauqua educational council, , chautauqua foreign tour, chautauqua institution, chautauqua lake, - chautauqua literary and scientific circle, - ; alumni hall, ; banner, ; camp fire, , ; class buildings, ; class names, ; course of reading, ; examinations, ; flag, ; mottoes, ; problems, ; recognition day, ; seals, ; stories, _chautauqua press_, chautauqua university, , _chautauquan, the_, chentung lieng chang, children at chautauqua, children's hour, , children's temple, chime of bells, chittenden, miss a. h., christian ethics society, chubb, e. w., church doctrines, churchill, j. w., civil war veterans, clark, f. e., , clark, s. h., , , , , , , club life at chautauqua, clear lake assembly, clews, henry, cobern, c. m., coburn, c. d., cody, h. j., coe, g. a., colby, everett, colfax, schuyler, cole, mrs. ida b., college building, , college men's club, college of liberal arts, college women's club, colonnade building, , colquitt, a. h., comprehensive plan, comstock, anthony, , conwell, r. h., , , , , cook, a. s., xiii, cook, joseph, xvii, , , , , , cooke, e. v., cooke, g. w., cope, h. f., cowen, c. a., crafts, w. f., , crawford, w. h., , croquet at chautauqua, crosby, howard, crothers, s. m., , , cumnock, r. l., , , , _daily assembly herald_, davis, katharine b., , davis, o. s., dawson, w. j., deems, , , , , degrott, e. b., democracy at chautauqua, denominational houses, denominations at chautauqua, devotional hour, , dewey, melvil, , dickinson, j. w., dining hall, the old, disciples house, domestic science, dorchester, daniel, doremus, r. o., downes, olin, downey, mary e., , draper, a. s., drummond, henry, dugmore, a. r., duncan, w. aver, dunning, a. e., , , duryea, j. e., eastern star, order of, eastman, c. a., eaton, john b., eberhardt, a. o., ix edison, t. a., eggleston, edward, eliot, c. w., eliot, s. a., ellsworth, w. w., ely, r. t., esperanto, ewing, mrs. e. p., , excell, e. o., expression, school of, fairbairn, xiv, , , , , fair point, , , fallows, bishop, faunce, w. h. p., , , fenton memorial home, ferguson, john, fife, r. h., finley, j. h., , fires at chautauqua, , fisk jubilee singers, , fiske, john, , , fletcher, horace, flood, t. l., , , flood and vincent, flower girls, flude, g. l., folk, j. w., forbush, byron, ford peace expedition, foreign mission institute, foreign tour, fosdick, h. e., foss, bishop, , foster, bishop, , founders of chautauqua, fowler, bishop, , , fox, john, fraser, helen, french military band, french road, frost, w. g., galloway, bishop, garfield, president, garghill, isabel, garland, d. r., garland, hamlin, garvie, a. e., gates, m. e., gavazzi, alessandro, george, w. r., ghost walk, the, gibbons, h. a., , , gibson, h. m., gifford, o. p., gilbert, j. e., gilkey, c. w., , gillet, a. h., gilman, arthur, gilmore, j. h., girls' club, , gladden, washington, , , glover, t. r., golden gate, , golf club, golf course, goodsell, bishop, , gordan, g. a., gordon, j. b., , gottheil, gustave, goucher, j. f., gough, j. b., , , grange building, , grant, president, , graves, j. t., , greek play, green's _short history_, , greene, s. l., grieve, a. j., griffith, sanford, , , griggs, e. h., xii, , , , , , , , , gronow, h. e., grouetch, mrs. m. s., guernsey, mrs. g. t., guest house, the, gunsaulus, f. w., , , , , habberton, john, hale, edward e., xvi, , , , , , , , , , , , , , hale, mrs. f. r., hall, c. c., hall, g. s., , , hall, john, hall, j. m., hall, j. p., hall of the christ, hall of pedagogy, hall of philosophy, , , hallam, alfred, , halstead, murat, hancock, john, hanna, mark, hapgood, norman, hard, c. p., hargrove, bishop, harper, mrs. i. h., harper, p. v., harper, w. r., , , , , , , , , harrington, c. l., harris, w. t., xiii, , , hart, a. b., hatfield, r. m., haven, bishop, hay, miss m. g., hayes, h. g., hayes, maud, hayes, president, hazard, m. c., hazeltine, mary e., hearst, mrs. phebe a., henderson, c. r., , henson, p. s., , herbert, victor, hibben, j. g., hickman, w. h., higgins hall, hill, a. c., hillis, n. d., hobson, r. p., hodge, a. a., , hodge, r. m., hodges, george, holborn, j. s., , holmes, r. s., , horne, silvester, horr, r. g., , hospital, the, hospitality house, hoss, bishop, hotel athenæum, hough, l. h., , howard, o. o., , howe, julia ward, xviii hughes, c. e., hughes, bishop e. h., hulbert, a. b., hull, mrs. j. c., hulley, lincoln, , hurlbut, j. l., , , , , , hurst, bishop, hvebelianovich, lazarovich, hyde, w. d., hydroplane at chautauqua, hymn of greeting, illuminated fleet, international lyceum and chautauqua association, , island park assembly, jacobs, w. s., james, bishop, jamestown, jay, john, jefferson, c. e., , , jefferson, joseph, jerome, w. t., jerusalem, model of, jewett home, johnson, r. m., jones, s. p., jordan, d. s., joslin, j. l., journalism, school of, juvenile problems, keen, w. w., keller, helen, kellogg, j. h., kennedy, c. r., kent, c. f., kidd, thomas, kimball, kate f., kindergarten, king, h. c., knox, w. e., kraus-boelte, mme., kriege, mme., labor movement, la follette, r. m., , lake bluff assembly, lakeside assembly, language clubs, languages, school of, la salle, r. r., lathbury, mary a., , , , lattimore, the misses, lavell, c. f., , lawyers' club, league of nations, lee, j. w., lees, g. r., lemon, j. b., library school, lindsay, vachel, lindsey, b. b., liquor problem, the, little, c. j., , , livermore, mary a., , , lord, john, , lore, c. b., lutheran house, mabie, h. w., , macarthur, r. s., xvi, , mccabe, bishop, , mcclintock, belle, mcclintock, w. d., mcclure, s. s., mcclure, w. f., mcconnell, bishop, , mccormick, s. b., , mcdowell, bishop, , , mcfadyen, j. e., mcfarland, j. t., mcgerald, samuel, mcglynn, edward, mcintyre, bishop, mckenzie, a., mckinley, president, mclean, mrs. donald, mcmaster, j. b., mcneill, john, mahaffy, j. p., manual training, massey organ, the, mather, mary m., mathews, shailer, , , , , , mayville, means, j. o., men's club, the, meredith, r. r., merrill, w. p., methodist house, meyer, mrs. l. r., milburn, w. h., miller, mrs. e. h., , , miller, h. a., miller, j. d., miller, lewis, birth and education, ; business training, ; inventions, ; home at akron, ; normal class, ; meeting with dr. vincent, ; visit to chautauqua lake, ; cottage at chautauqua, ; location of assembly, ; children's temple, ; work at chautauqua, ; plans for c.l.s.c., ; building the hotel, ; illness and death, ; memorial salute, , ; memorial tower, miller park, miller, theodore, milner, d. c., , miner, maud, , mineral spring, minton, t. m., mitchel, j. p., mitchell, bishop, mitchell, d. g., mitchell, john, , mob spirit, the, moffatt, j. d., monona lake assembly, montgomery, mrs. h. b., moore, h. h., moore, r. w., moran, t. f., mothers' congress, moulton, j. h., moulton, r. g., , , , moxom, p. d., munger, s. f., murphy, francis, music, music club, music, school of, national congress of mothers, national education association, nearing, scott, , new england assembly, newman, bishop, newton, richard, new york symphony orchestra, , ng poon chew, niles, w. h., normal alumni, normal class, , , normal examination, , ocean grove assembly, octogenarians' club, odell, b. b., officers of first assembly, oldham, bishop, , o'neill, j. d., opening service, oriental museum, origin of name chautauqua, osborne, dennis, osborne, t. m., ottawa (kansas) assembly, pacific grove assembly, page, t. n., pageant of the past, palace hotel, the, , palestine, early model of, palestine park, , , palmer, mrs. alice f., xv, , palmer, a. j., , palmer, a. m., palmer, g. h., palmer, h. r., "pansy" (mrs. g. r. alden), pansy class, papot, benedict, parker, f. w., xiv, parry, d. m., pattison, r. e., pavilion, the, payne, c. h., peabody, f. g., , pearse, m. g., peary, r. e., peary, mrs. r. e., peck, bishop, pedagogy, hall of, pedagogy, school of, pennybacker, mrs. p. v., , , , , percival, rev. dr., perrine, w. h., , perry, bliss, phelps, w. f., phillips, philip, pickett, mrs. general, pier budding, playgrounds, point chautauqua, pond, j. b., powers, h. h., , , powers, leland, , , , post office building, potter, bishop, prendergast, w. h., presbrey, o. f., presbyterian house, presidents at chautauqua, x press club, procession, recognition day, ragan, h. h., ramsay, william, randolph, warren, ransom, w. l., raymond, a. v. v., xii raymond, c. r., recognition day, the first, religious teaching, school of, repplier, agnes, _review of reviews_, xi rhees, rush, rice, w. m., richards, w. c., richardson, c. f., riddle, george, , , , riis, j. a., , , , robins, raymond, , robinson, mrs. douglas, rockefeller, j. d., roman year, the, roosevelt, president, x, , , , , , rose, h. r., roselli, bruno, ross, g. a. j., round lake assembly, , , russian symphony orchestra, , , sadler, c., st. paul's grove, sanders, f. r., sanders, h. m., sargent, f. p., schaff, philip, schmucker, s. c., , schurman, j. g., scientific conference, seton, e. t., sewer system, shaw, anna h., , , shedlock, miss m. l., sheldon, c. m., xvi sherwin, w. f., , , sherwood, , signal fires, simpson, bishop, simpson, w. o., slosson, e. e., xi, smith, f. h., smith, g. a., , , smith, s. s., snowden, mrs. philip, , snyder, jacob, socialism, social unrest, somerset, lady henry, southwick, h. l., southwick, mrs. j. e., sparks, e. e., spouting tree, stagg, a. a., standard oil co., standards of time, stanley, f. g., starr, frederick, , steamboats, steiner, e. a., stelzle, charles, , stevens, lillian m. n., stokes, j. g. p., stokes, rose p., , stone, j. t., street, j. r., streets at chautauqua, strong, james, strong, josiah, stuart, e. g., stuntz, bishop, summer schools, sunday at chautauqua, , sunday school lessons, , sunday school normal department, , , sunday school parliament, sunday school union, swing, david, symphony orchestra, , , , , , , taft, president, talmage, t. dew., , , tanner, corporal, tarbell, ida, taylor, alfred, taylor, graham, , , taylor, r. l., taylor, bishop, teacher's retreat, temperance congress, tennesseans, the, testimonies to chautauqua, vii-xix thirkield, bishop, thoburn, bishop, thoburn, j. m. jr., ticket system, tiffany, o. h., tourgee, a. w., tourjee, eben, towle, g. m., townsend, l. t., , traction station, truett, g. w., trumbull, h. c., tuthill, miss, tyler, m. c., underhill, c. f., , union class building, unitarian house, united presbyterian chapel, vail, a. d., , vail, s. m., , vanderlip, f. a., van lennep, a. o., vesper service, vigil, the, vincent, b. t., , , vincent mrs. ella, , , vincent, g. e., , , , , , - , , , , , , vincent, mrs. g. e., vincent, h. b., vincent, bishop j. h., ancestors, ; birthplace, ; marriage, ; first visit to chautauqua, ; consecrated bishop, ; episcopal residence, ; visit at chautauqua, ; retirement, ; cablegram, ; lectures, , , ; sermon, ; last visit, ; his death, ; memorial service, vincent, l. h., , , , , , , , vitale, giuseppe, von holst, herman, von suttner, baroness, votaw, c. w., war, the great, , wadsworth, james, wallace, chancellor, wallace, lew, ward, e. j., ward, mrs. l. a., ward, w. h., warren, bishop, , , , warren, w. f., , washington, b. t., , watchorn, robert, watkinson, w. l., wattles, j. d., wayland, h. l., weigle, l. a., , , welch, bishop, , , wendling, j. w., wheeler, a. m., wheeler, b. i., white, a. d., whitman, c. s., whittier, j. g., xviii why and wherefore, vii-xix wickersham, g. w., , wiggin, mrs. kate d., wilcox, mrs. f. b., wiley, h. w., wilkinson, w. c, willard, miss frances e., , , willett. h. l., willetts, a. a., williams, bishop, , , , , willing, mrs. j. f., wilson, francis, , winchester, c. t., , , wines, f. h., winter, mrs. t. g., wirt, lincoln, wishart, c. f., , , woelfkin, cornelius, wolsey. louis, woman's christian temperance union, , , woman's club, the, woman suffrage, women at chautauqua, woodruff, g. w., worden, j. a., , , , wright, c. d., , yale glee club, young, j. b., young woman's camp, young woman's club, _youth's c. l. s. c. paper_, zeublin, charles, , zionism, * * * * * transcriber's notes: obvious punctuation errors repaired. varied hyphenation was retained. page xxiii, " " changed to " " for location of index. page is a blank page. page , "ulitize" changed to "utilize" (effort to utilize it) page , "alchoholic" changed to "alcoholic" (of all alcoholic beverages) page , "episcoal" changed to "episcopal" (the methodist episcopal church--simpson) page , "every-popular" changed to "ever-popular" (ever-popular "pansy") page , "reconcilation" changed to "reconciliation" (ever needed a reconciliation) page , "tweny-four" changed to "twenty-four" (among the twenty-four) page , "chautauquas" changed to "chautauquas" (chautauquas, where this) page , "chautuaqua" changed to "chautauqua" (chautauqua has assailed) page , "chautuaqua" changed to "chautauqua" (chautauqua is helping garnish) page , "platfrom" changed to "platform" (the same platform) page , "analagous" changed to "analogous" (analogous to the c. l. s. c.) page , "hurlburt" changed to "hurlbut" (president--j. l. hurlbut) page , "pittsburg" changed to "pittsburgh" (rodman st., pittsburgh) page , as the index contained no page reference for "brown, j. w." and the text contains no reference to a j. w. brown, it is presumed that this refers to "judge willis brown" and has been edited to reflect that. proofreaders canada team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net fenelon's treatise on the education of daughters. [illustration: woman reading to girl] _delightful task! to rear the tender thought, to teach the young idea how to shoot._ fenelon's treatise on the education of daughters: _translated from the french_, and adapted to english readers, with an original chapter, "on religious studies." by the rev. t. f. dibdin, b.a. f.a.s. author of "_an introduction to the knowledge of the best editions of the greek and latin classics_," _&c._ "chaste and modest writings never alter the honour of any gentlewoman. for as the remembrance of infamous persons is much detested and hated by the _muses_--so is the glory and renown of the virtuous installed by them in eternal memory for ever." pastorals of julietta. _fol. edit._ . _pt. _, _p._ . so in this pilgrimage i would behold you, as you are--virtue's temple! donne's poems. _edit._ . _p._ . [_to the countess of bedford._] _cheltenham_: printed and published by h. ruff: and sold by longman, hurst, rees and orme, london. . entered at stationers' hall. to her grace georgiana _duchess of bedford_, whose amiable disposition, accomplished manners, and elevated rank, _render her_ the esteem and admiration of _the great and the virtuous_, this small tribute of gratitude and respect _is dedicated_ by her obliged and obedient humble servant, h. ruff. preface. the translation of the following work was undertaken at the request of mr. ruff, the publisher, who wished me to paraphrase what i thought might more particularly interest and edify the english reader. it is dedicated, by the publisher, to her grace the duchess of bedford --and he is anxious that it may be found worthy of her patronage. the original french work was first published in ; and the earliest english translation appeared in . this translation, which was by dr. hickes, i have never seen. in the year , another [anonymous] english translation was printed at hull, in a duodecimo volume. in this performance there is so close an adherence to the idiom of the french language, that almost every page abounds with gallicisms. it is not, however, entirely destitute of merit; but it appears, on the whole, to have been hastily executed for the purpose of ensuring a cheap and extensive sale. the present translation is offered to the public, with a full conviction of its inadequacy to give a just idea of the beauty and force of the original. the author of "_telemaque_" and "_de l'education des filles_" appears, on a comparison of these two performances, very unlike the same writer. in the former, his periods are flowing and luxuriant; in the latter, they are sententious and logical; and nearly as difficult to clothe in an english-dress as those of the philosophical tacitus. it will be seen, therefore, that a literal translation has not been attempted; and a still greater deviation will be observable, from a wish to distinguish it from the translation of . whether this has always been done for the better, the reader will determine for himself. the _original chapter_ "on religious studies" has been submitted to those, whose opinions, matured by experience, i have been anxious to obtain; and it has received the sanction of their approbation. if the work fail of success, it will not be from the want of spirit in the publisher; for it is accompanied with considerable beauty of type and paper, and elegance of ornament. the _design_ is every way worthy of the ingenious artist by whom it was executed, and who has long been known to the world from the taste and fidelity of his pencil. the engraving, by mr. freeman, will convince the public that he requires only to be known, to be more generally encouraged. t. f. d. terrace, kensington, _june , ._ contents. page. _chapter i._ importance of female education _chapter ii._ errors in ordinary education _chapter iii._ first foundations of education _chapter iv._ the danger of imitation _chapter v._ indirect instructions _chapter vi._ use of history _chapter vii._ principles of religion _chapter viii._ on religious studies _chapter ix._ ordinary defects among girls _chapter x._ vanity of beauty and dress _chapter xi._ instruction of women in their duties _chapter xii._ continuation of the duties of women _chapter xiii._ of governesses fenelon on female education. chapter i. _on the importance of the education of daughters._ the education of girls is, in general, exceedingly neglected:[ ] custom, and maternal caprice, often appear to have the entire regulation of it. it absolutely seems as if we supposed the sex to be in need of little or no instruction. on the other hand, the education of _boys_ is considered as a very important concern, affecting the welfare of the public; and although it be frequently attended with errors and mistakes, great abilities are nevertheless thought necessary for the accomplishment of it. the brightest talents have been engaged to form plans and modes of instruction:--what numbers of masters and colleges do we behold? what expences incurred in the printing of books, in researches after science, in modes of teaching languages, in the establishment of professors? all these grand preparations may probably have more shew than substance, but they sufficiently denote the high idea we entertain of the education of boys. in regard to girls, some exclaim, "why make them learned? curiosity renders them vain and conceited: it is sufficient if they be one day able to govern their families, and implicitly obey their husbands!" examples are then adduced of many women whom science has rendered ridiculous; and on such contemptible authority we think ourselves justified in blindly abandoning our daughters to the conduct of ignorant and indiscreet mothers. [ ] it must be remembered that the above sentiment was expressed in the year , when the want of a good system of female education was universally felt and regretted. at the present day, we witness a noble reverse of things; and whatever theories may have, been proposed abroad, we can never cease to admire the labours, and applaud the sagacity, of _our_ countrywomen in behalf of their sex. it is true, that we should be on our guard not to make them ridiculously learned. women, in general, possess a weaker but more inquisitive mind than men; hence it follows that their pursuits should be of a quiet and sober turn. they are not formed to govern the state, to make war, or to enter into the church; so that they may well dispense with any profound knowledge relating to politics, military tactics, philosophy, and theology. the greater part of the mechanical arts are also improper for them: they are made for moderate exercise; their bodies as well as minds are less strong and energetic than those of men; but to compensate for their defects, nature has bestowed on them a spirit of industry, united with a propriety of behaviour, and an economy which renders them at once the ornament and comfort of home.[ ] [ ] this idea is beautifully expressed in the following lines of thomson:-- "to give society its highest taste, well-ordered home man's best delight to make; and by submissive wisdom, modest skill, with every gentle care-eluding art to raise the virtues, animate the bliss, and sweeten all the toils of human life: this be the female dignity and praise!" _autumn_, ver. - . but admitting that women are by nature weaker than men, what is the consequence? what, but that the weaker they are, the more they stand in need of support. have they not duties to perform, which are the very foundation of human existence? consider, it is women who ruin or uphold families; who regulate the _minutiæ_ of domestic affairs; and who consequently decide upon some of the dearest and tenderest points which affect the happiness of man. they have undoubtedly the strongest influence on the manners, good or bad, of society. a sensible woman, who is industrious and religious, is the very soul of a large establishment, and provides both for its temporal and eternal welfare. notwithstanding the authority of men in public affairs, it is evident, that they cannot effect any lasting good, without the intervention and support of women. the _world_ is not a phantom, it is _the aggregate of all its families_; and who can civilize and govern these with a nicer discrimination than women? besides their natural assiduity and authority at home, they are peculiarly calculated for it, by a carefulness, attention to particulars, industry, and a soft and persuasive manner. can men promise themselves any felicity in this life, if marriage, the very essence of domestic society, be productive of bitterness and disappointment? and as to children, who are to constitute the future generation, to what misery will _they_ be exposed, if their mothers ruin them from the cradle? such then, are the occupations of the female sex, which cannot be deemed of less importance to society than those of the male. it appears that they have a house and establishment to regulate, a husband to make happy, and children to rear. virtue is as necessary for men as for women; and without entering upon the comparative good or ill which society experiences from the latter sex, it must be remembered that they are _one half of the human race_, redeemed by the blood of jesus christ, and destined to life eternal. lastly, let us not forget that if women do great good to the community when well educated, they are capable of infinite mischief when viciously instructed. it is certain that a bad education works less ill in a male, than in a female breast; for the vices of men often proceed from the bad education which their mothers have given them, and from passions which have been instilled into them at a riper age, from casual intercourse with women. what intrigues does history present to us--what subversion of laws and manners--what bloody wars--what innovations in religion--what revolutions in states--all arising from the irregularities of women? ought not these considerations to impress us with the importance of female education? let us, therefore, discuss the various means of accomplishing so desirable an object. chap. ii. _errors in the ordinary mode of education._ ignorance is one of the causes of the _ennui_ and discontent of young persons, and of the absence of all rational amusement. when a child has arrived at a certain age without having applied to solid pursuits, she can have neither taste nor relish for them. every thing which is serious assumes to her mind a sorrowful appearance; and that which requires a continued attention, wearies and disgusts her. the natural inclination to pleasure, which is strong in youth--the example of young people of the same age, plunged in dissipation--every thing, in short, serves to excite a dread of an orderly and industrious life. in this early age, she wants both experience and authority to take a decided part in the management of household affairs; she is even ignorant of the important consequences resulting from it, unless her mother has previously instructed her in some of its departments. if she be born to affluence, she is not necessitated to undergo manual toil: she may probably work an hour or two a day, because she hears it said, without knowing why, that "it is proper for women to work"--but this pithy proverb will only produce the semblance, without the substance, of real useful application. in such a situation what is she to do? the society of a mother, who narrowly watches, scolds, and thinks she is performing her duty in not overlooking the least fault--who is never satisfied, but always trying the temper, and appears herself immersed in domestic cares; all this disgusts and torments her. she is, moreover, surrounded with flattering servants, who, seeking to insinuate themselves, by base and dangerous compliances, gratify all her fancies, and direct her conversation to every topic but that of goodness and virtue. to her, piety appears an irksome task--a foe to every rational amusement. what, then, are her occupations? none that are useful. hence arises a habit of indolence, which at length becomes incurable. meantime what is to fill this vacuity? nothing but the most frivolous and contemptible pursuits. in such a state of lassitude, a young woman abandons herself to pure idleness; and idleness, which may be termed a languor of the soul, is an inexhaustible source of weariness and discontent. she sleeps one-third more than is necessary to preserve her health: this protracted slumber serves only to enervate and render her more delicate; more exposed to the turbulency of passion; whereas moderate sleep, accompanied with regular exercise, produces that cheerfulness, vigour, and elasticity of spirits, which form, perhaps, the true criterion of bodily and mental perfection. this weariness and idleness, united with ignorance, beget a pernicious eagerness for public diversions; hence arises a spirit of curiosity, as indiscreet as it is insatiable. those who are instructed and busied in serious employments, have, in general, but a moderate curiosity. what they know gives them an indifference for many things of which they are ignorant; and convinces them of the inutility and absurdity of those things, with which narrow minds, that know nothing, and have nothing to exercise themselves upon, are extremely desirous of becoming acquainted. on the contrary, young women, without instruction and application, have always a roving imagination. in want of substantial employment, their curiosity hurries them on to vain and dangerous pursuits. those who have somewhat more vivacity, pique themselves on a superior knowledge, and read, with avidity, every book which flatters their vanity: they become enamoured of novels, plays, and "tales of wonder," in which love and licentiousness predominate: they fill their minds with visionary notions, by accustoming themselves to the splendid sentiments of heroes of romance, and hence are rendered unfit for the common intercourse of society; for all these fine airy sentiments, these generous passions, these adventures, which the authors of romance have invented for mere amusement, have no connexion with the real motives which agitate mankind, and direct the affairs of the world; nor with those disappointments which usually accompany us in almost every thing we undertake. a poor girl, full of the tender and the marvellous, which have delighted her in her reading, is astonished not to find in the world real personages, resembling the heroes she has read of--fain would she live like those imaginary princesses, whom fiction has described as always charming, always adored, and always beyond the reach of want. what disgust must she feel on descending from such a state of heroism, to the lowest offices of housewifery! some there are who push their curiosity still further, and without the least qualifications, presume to decide upon theological points.--but those who have not sufficient grasp of intellect for these curiosities, have other pursuits, better proportioned to their talents: they are extremely desirous of knowing what is said, and going on in the world--a song--news--an intrigue--to receive letters, and to read those that other people receive; these things delight prodigiously; they wish every thing to be told them, and to tell every thing in turn: they are vain, and vanity is a sure incentive to talk. they become giddy, and volatility prevents those reflections from rising which would shew them the value of silence. chap. iii. _of the first foundations of education._ to remedy the evils just complained of, it is of material consequence to commence a system of education from _infancy_: this tender period, which is too often intrusted to imprudent and irregular women, is, in truth, the most susceptible of the strongest impressions, and consequently has a great influence on the future regulation of life. as soon as children can lisp, they may be prepared for instruction: this may be thought paradoxical--but only consider what a child does before it can talk. it is learning a language which it will, by and by, speak with more accuracy, than the learned can speak the dead languages, although studied at a mature period of life. but what is the learning a language? it does not consist solely in treasuring in the memory a great number of words--but in comprehending, says st. austin, the meaning of each particular word: the child, amidst its cries and amusements, knows for what object each word is designed: this is obtained sometimes by observing the natural motions of bodies which touch, or shew, the objects of which one is speaking--sometimes by being struck with the frequent repetition of the same word to signify the same thing. it cannot be denied but that the brain of children is admirably calculated, from its temperament, to receive impressions from all these images; but what strength of mental attention is requisite to distinguish them, and to unite each to its proper object? consider too, how children, even at such a tender age, attach themselves to those who flatter, and avoid those who restrain, them: how well they know to obtain their object by a tear, or silent submission: how much artifice and jealousy they already possess! "i have seen," exclaims st. austin, "a jealous child: it could not speak; but its face was pale, and the eyes were irritated against an infant that suckled with it." from this it may be inferred, that infants know more at such an early period than is usually imagined: thus, by soft words and appropriate gestures, you may incline them towards honest and virtuous connexions, rather than introduce them to those which it would be dangerous for them to caress.--thus, again, you may, by appropriate looks and tone of voice, represent to them, with horror, those whom they have seen exasperated with anger, or any other furious passion; and, on the other hand, by a correspondent serenity of manner, depicture to them those who are amiable and wise. i do not wish to lay too great a stress on these subordinate matters: but, in reality, these different dispositions form a commencement of character which must not be neglected; and this mode of foreseeing, as it were, the future dispositions of children, has imperceptible consequences which facilitate their education. if we still doubt of the power of these early prepossessions on future maturity, we need only call to mind how lively and affecting, at an advanced age, is the remembrance of those things which have delighted us in childhood. if, instead of terrifying the minds of young people with absurd notions of ghosts and spirits, which serve only to weaken and disturb the still delicate texture of the brain: if, instead of abandoning them to the caprice of a nurse for what they are to like or dislike, we endeavoured always to impress on their minds an agreeable idea of good, and a frightful one of evil--this foresight might hereafter be the foundation of every practical virtue. on the contrary, we frighten them with the idea of a clergyman clothed in black--we talk of death merely to excite terror--and recount tales of the dead revisiting the earth, at midnight, under hideous shapes! all this has a tendency to weaken and agitate the mind, and to excite a prejudice against the soundest doctrines. one of the most useful and important things during infancy is, to be particularly careful of the child's health; endeavouring to sweeten the blood by a proper choice of food, and a simple regimen of life: regulating its meals, so that it eat pretty nearly at the same hours, and as it feels the inclination; that the stomach be not overloaded before digestion takes place, and that no high-seasoned dishes be introduced, which must necessarily give a disrelish for more healthful food. lastly, too many dishes should not be allowed at the same time; for such a variety of food begets an appetite even after the real call of hunger is satisfied. another very important consideration is, not to oppress the faculties by too much instruction; to avoid every thing which may kindle the passions; to deprive a child, gently and by degrees, of that for which it has expressed too vehement a desire to obtain; so that, eventually, it may be insensible of disappointment. if a child's disposition be tolerably good, it may, by the foregoing method, be rendered docile, patient, steady, cheerful, and tranquil; whereas, if its tender years be neglected, it becomes restless and turbulent during the remainder of its life; the blood boils, bad habits are formed, and the body and mind, both equally susceptible, become prone to evil. hence arises a sort of second original sin, which, in advanced age, is the source of a thousand disorders. as soon as children arrive at a more mature period, or their reason becomes unfolded, we must be careful that all our words have a tendency to make them love truth, and detest artifice and hypocrisy. we ought never to be guilty of any deception or falsehood to appease them, or to persuade them to comply with our wishes: if we are, we instruct them in cunning and artifice; and this they never forget. reason and good sense must be our instruments of regulation. but let us examine with a little more attention the exact dispositions of children, and what more particularly regards their treatment. the substance of their brain is soft, but it becomes harder every day: it has neither experience nor judgment to discriminate one object from another, and every thing is, therefore, new to them. from this softness and pliability of the brain, impressions are easily made; and the surprize which accompanies novelty, is the cause of their continual admiration, and extreme curiosity. it is true that this ductility of the brain, attended with considerable heat, produces an easy and constant motion; hence arises that bustle and volatility of youth, which is as incapable of fixing the attention on one object, as it is of confining the body to one spot. again, children are incapable of thinking and acting for themselves; they remark every thing, but speak little; unless they have been accustomed to talk much--an evil, against which we must be constantly on our guard. the pleasure which we derive and express from the sight of _pretty children_, spoils them; for they are, in consequence, accustomed to utter every thing which comes uppermost, and to talk on subjects of which they have no distinct ideas; hence is formed an habit of precipitately passing judgment, and of discussing points they are incapable of comprehending; an unfortunate circumstance! and which, probably, adheres to them through life. this admiration of _pretty children_ has another pernicious consequence; they are sensible that you look at them, watch all their actions, and listen to their prattle, with pleasure--hence they flatter themselves that all the world must follow your example. during this period, when applause is perpetually bestowed, and contradiction seldom obtruded, children indulge chimerical hopes, which, alas! are the source of endless disappointments throughout life. i have seen children who always fancied you were talking about them, whenever any thing was privately said--and this, forsooth, because it has _sometimes_ actually been the case: they have also imagined themselves to be most extraordinary and incomparable beings. take care, therefore, that in your attentions to children, they are unconscious of any particular solicitude on your part: shew them that it is from pure regard, and the helplessness of their condition to relieve their own wants, that you interest yourself in their behalf--and not from admiration of their talents. be content to form their minds, by degrees, according to each emergency that may arise: and if it were in your power to advance their knowledge much beyond their years, even without straining their intellect, by no means put it in practice; recollect that the danger of _vanity_ and _arrogance_ is always greater than the fruit of those premature educations which make so much noise in the world. we must be satisfied to follow and assist nature. children know little, and should not be stimulated to talk: but the consequence of this ignorance is, they are continually asking questions. we should, therefore, answer them precisely, and add sometimes little comparisons, which may throw light on the information we give them. if they judge of some things without sufficient knowledge, they should be checked by a new question, which might make them sensible of their error without rudely confounding them; at the same time take care to impress on their minds, not by vague praises, but by some effectual mark of esteem, that they afford much more satisfaction when they _doubt_, and _ask for information_, on points they do not know, than when they happen to decide rightly. this is the sure method to implant in them a true sense of modesty and politeness; and to excite a contempt for those idle controversies in which ignorant young folks are too apt to indulge. as soon as we begin to watch the dawn of reason spreading, we should seize it as a favourable opportunity to guard them against presumption: "you see," we should exclaim, "that you are much more reasonable and tractable than you were last year--and in the _following_ year you will observe things yet more clearly than you do at present--if, during the last year, you were eager to have passed judgment on things which you now know, and were then ignorant of, you would assuredly have judged wrong. you would therefore have been to blame in offering opinions on subjects above the reach of your intellect. there are, at this moment, many things which remain for you to know; and you will one day be convinced how imperfect are your _present_ conceptions. nevertheless, adhere to the counsel of those who judge of things as you yourself would judge, were you gifted with their years and experience." as the curiosity of children is a faculty which precedes instruction, we should be careful to make them profit by it. for example, in the country when they see a mill, they wish to know what it is--here, then, you may shew them how that food is prepared which nourishes man. a little further they perceive reapers--and you must explain to them their occupation; how they sow the grain, and how it multiplies in the earth. in the town they see a number of shops, where various trades are exercised, and various merchandize is sold. never consider their questions as importunate; they are overtures which nature makes to facilitate instruction--shew them, therefore, that you take pleasure in these questions--for, by such means, you teach them insensibly how every thing is made, which conduces to the comfort of man, and extension of commerce. by degrees, and without any particular study, they become acquainted with every article that is useful, and with the price affixed to each, which is, indeed, the true foundation of economy. this kind of knowledge, which no one should despise, because no one is willing to be cheated from the want of it, is particularly necessary for women. chap. iv. _the danger of imitation._ the ignorance of children, (in whose brain no correct impressions are made,) renders them extremely susceptible, and inclined to imitate every thing they see. it is, therefore, of consequence to set before them none but the very best models of imitation; and to make them acquainted with those, by whose examples they would be profited in following. but as it happens, in spite of all our precautions, that they occasionally witness many irregularities, we must not fail to warn them betimes against the impertinence of certain foolish and dissipated people, whose reputation is scarcely worth preserving: we must shew them how truly miserable and deserving of contempt, are those who abandon themselves to passion, without cultivating their reason. one may also give them, a correct taste, free from affectation, and make them sensible of the true value of modesty and decorum; we must not even abstain from guarding them against probable errors, although by this means we may open their eyes to certain defects in those whom they are taught to respect. we have neither right nor reason to hope that they will remain ignorant on such points, and therefore the best method to pursue, in order to keep them to their duty, is, to persuade them to bear with the faults of others; not to pass too severe a sentence on them, as they often appear greater than they really are--that they are even compensated for by many good qualifications--and that as there is no perfection in this world, they should admire that which approaches the nearest towards it. lastly, although this advice should not be offered but in extreme cases, we should, nevertheless, engraft on them _true principles_, and preserve them from imitating all the evil that is set before them. we must also be on our guard to prevent their imitation of _ridiculous people_; whose low and buffoon-like manners have something in them extremely revolting to noble and generous sentiments; we should be apprehensive lest children afterwards assume these very manners; as the warmth of their imagination, and pliability of body, added to the pleasure they seem to take in such diversion, gives them a peculiar aptitude to represent every ridiculous object they behold. this proneness to imitation, which is natural to children, is the source of infinite mischief when they are delivered up to improper people who are hardly able to restrain themselves before them. but providence has ordained this imitative power, that children may be also capable of applying themselves to what is good and virtuous. often, without speaking to them, we have only to _shew_ them in others what we would have them do themselves. chap. v. _indirect instructions: we should not be too urgent with children._ i think we should often make use of _indirect_ instructions, which are not so tedious and uninteresting as lessons and remonstrances, in order to excite their attention to certain examples which are placed before them. a person may sometimes ask another, in their presence, "why do you do so"--and the other may answer--"i do it for such a reason." for example--"why did you confess your fault?" "because i should have been guilty of a much greater one by disavowing it with a lye"--and because nothing is more praiseworthy than to say frankly, "i am wrong." then the first person should commend the one who has thus accused herself--but care must be taken that all this be done without art or affectation, for children have much more penetration than we are aware of--and as soon as they discover any finesse in their teachers, they lose that simplicity and confidence which is natural to their character. we have before observed that the brain of children, from being at the same time moist and warm, produces continual motion. this softness or pliancy of the brain causes impressions to be easily made, and images of every sensible object to be vividly and strongly imprinted; hence we should be anxious to engrave, as it were, on their minds such characters as are easily formed. but great care must be shewn in the selection of such objects as we wish to impress: for in so small and precious a cabinet, none but the most exquisite furniture should be admitted. let it be remembered, that at such a tender age, no knowledge should be engrafted but such as we wish to remain there for life. the first impressions that are made, when the brain is so soft and susceptible, are in general the most durable; and in proportion as age hardens the brain, do such impressions become indelible. hence it is, that in old age we remember distinctly the images of youth, however remote; whereas as age advances we have a fainter recollection of such things as we progressively behold, because the impression has been made on the brain when it is gradually hardening, and filled with other images. although we understand how to reason in this manner, we have some difficulty in acceding to it: and yet we absolutely do make use of this very mode of reasoning. for instance, do we not say every day, "my habits are fixed, i am too old to change them, i have been brought up in this way."--moreover are we not conscious of a singular pleasure in recalling to mind the images of youth? are not the strongest propensities formed at that age? does not, therefore, all this prove that the first impressions and first habits are the strongest? if infancy be the fittest period for engraving such images on the brain, it must be allowed that it is the least so for the cultivation of reason. that ductility of the brain which causes impressions to be easily formed, being united with extreme heat, produces an agitation which sets all regular application at defiance. the brain of children may be compared to a lighted wax taper, situated in a place which is exposed to the wind--its flame is perpetually flickering. a child asks you a question, and before you can answer, its eyes are directed towards the cieling: it counts all the figures that are carved there, or all the bits of glass which compose the window: if you wish to bring it back to the first subject of discussion, you vex it as much as if you confined it in prison. thus great care is required in managing the organs before they assume a determined inclination: answer every question promptly, and leave the child to put others as it pleases. gratify only the curiosity which it evinces, and lay up in the memory a mass of sound materials. the time will come, when these impressions will be regularly arranged, and the brain having more consistency, the child will reason on the consequences. nevertheless, be attentive to correct when the reasoning is fallacious; and to convince it, without embarrassment, as an opportunity offers, in what a wrong consequence consists. let a child amuse itself freely, and mingle instruction with amusement: let wisdom be introduced at proper intervals, and under an agreeable form; and take care not to fatigue it by a precision which is both formal and injudicious. if a child entertains sad and dismal notions of virtue, if liberty and irregularity present themselves in a seducing manner, every thing is lost, and your labour is in vain. never suffer it to be flattered by little contemptible associates, or people without character or worth: we naturally love the manners and sentiments of those whom we regard; and the pleasure which is sometimes taken in the company of disreputable people, begets, by degrees, a love of those pernicious habits which renders _them_ so truly contemptible. in order to conciliate children to people of real estimable character, make them reflect on their excellence and utility, their sincerity, their modesty, their disinterestedness, their fidelity, their discretion, but above all their _piety_, which is the foundation of the rest. if a child has any thing about it revolting or offensive, you must observe to it that "piety does not produce such defects: when it is perfect, it destroys, or at least softens them." but, after all, we must not persist in making children admire certain pious characters whose exterior deportment is disgusting. although you are particularly anxious to regulate your own conduct with the utmost circumspection and nicety, do not imagine that children will fancy you faultless: oftentimes your slightest imperfections will be noticed by them. st. austin informs us that he had remarked, from his infancy, the vanity of his tutors. the best and most politic thing you can do, is, to know your own faults as completely as a child will know them, and to request some real friend to warn you of them. the generality of instructors pardon nothing in a pupil, but every thing in themselves: this excites an inquisitive and watchful spirit of malignity in such pupils--so that whenever they detect any fault in their tutor, they are delighted, and eventually despise him. shun this error: do not be afraid to mention the faults which are visible in your conduct, and which may have escaped you before the child. if you find her capable of reasoning thereupon, observe that you set her an example of correcting her faults, by the detection of your own--by this means, your imperfections will be instrumental in edifying the child, and encouraging her to correct herself. you will also thereby avoid the contempt and disgust which your own faults may cause her to entertain against your person. meanwhile, try every method to make those things agreeable which you exact from a child. have you any thing crabbed or difficult to propose? convince her that this pain will be succeeded by pleasure: always shew the utility which results from your instructions; and make her sensible of the consequences as affecting mankind, and the different orders of society. without this, all study will appear as a dry, barren, and thorny path. "of what use," will children sometimes say to themselves, "is it to learn those things which do not relate to ordinary conversation, and which have no immediate connection with what we are _obliged_ to do?" we should therefore give them a reason for every thing we teach--"it is, we should observe, to enable you one day to do well in the world--it is to form your judgment, and to make you reason well on all the affairs of life." we should always represent to them some useful and solid _end_, which may support them in their application: and never pretend to keep them in subjection by a crabbed and absolute authority. in proportion as their reason advances, we should discuss with them on the necessity of education; not that we should implicitly follow their thoughts, but profit by them when they discover their real state of mind: so that we may try their discernment, and make them relish those things we are anxious for them to learn. never assume, without urgent necessity, an austere and imperious manner, which only causes children to tremble, and savours strongly of affectation and pedantry in those who govern: children are, for the greater part, timid and diffident. by such means you shut out all access to the heart, and deprive them of a confidence, without which no benefit can be derived from instruction. make yourself beloved: let them be free with you, so that they fear nothing in discovering their faults. in order to attain this, be indulgent to those who do not disguise themselves before you. appear neither astonished nor irritated at their bad propensities: on the contrary, bear with their foibles. this inconvenience may, however, sometimes arise, that they will be less intimidated; but, taking all things together, confidence and sincerity is of far greater utility than a rigorous discipline. besides, authority will lose its proper effect, if confidence and persuasion are not equally strong. always commence with an open and candid manner; be cheerful and familiar without vulgarity, which enables you to see children conduct themselves in a perfectly natural state, and to know their inmost character. if even you should succeed in all your plans by the force of authority alone, you will not gain the proper end: you will disgust them in their search after goodness, of which you ought solely to endeavour to inspire them with admiration. if the wisest man has recommended parents to hold the rod continually over the heads of their children, if he has said that a father who "spareth his child" will repent it hereafter--it does not follow that he has censured a mild and lenient mode of education. he only condemns those weak and inconsiderate parents who flatter the passions of their children, and who only strive to divert them in their infancy, so that they are guilty of all sorts of excess. the proper conclusion seems to be that parents ought to preserve authority sufficient for correction; for there are some dispositions which require to be subdued by fear alone; but let it be remembered that this should never be enforced unless every other expedient has been previously applied. a child who merely follows the capricious impulse of imagination, and who confounds every thing which presents itself to her mind, detests application and virtue, because she has taken a prejudice against the person who speaks to her concerning them. hence arises that dismal and frightful idea of religion, which she preserves all her life: and which, alas! is often the only wretched remnant of a severe system of education. we must frequently tolerate many things which are deserving of immediate punishment, and wait for the opportunity when the feelings of a child dispose it to profit by correction. never rebuke a child in the first moments of passion, whether on your side or hers. if on yours, she will perceive that, you conduct yourself according to caprice and resentment, and not according to reason and affection: you will, in consequence, irretrievably lose your authority. if you correct in the first gust of her passion, her mind is not sufficiently collected to confess her fault, to conquer her feelings, and to acknowledge the importance of your advice: such a mode may even hazard your pupil's respect for you. always let the child see you are mistress of your own feelings; and nothing can effect this so much as _patience_. watch every moment, each day, when correction may be well-timed. never tell her of a fault, without, at the same time, suggesting some mode of redressing it, which will induce her to put it in practice; for nothing is more to be avoided than that chagrin and discouragement which are the consequence of mere formal correction. if a child is discovered to be a little rational, i think you should win it insensibly to _wish_ to have its faults disclosed, as this would be the way of making it sensible of them, without causing affliction: never, however, recount too many faults at a time. we should consider that children have a tender intellect, that their age makes them susceptible chiefly of pleasure, and that we often expect from them a correctness and seriousness of deportment, which their instructors are sometimes incapable of evincing. a very dangerous impression of _ennui_ and sadness is produced on their mind, by perpetually talking to them of words and things which they do not understand: no liberty, no amusement! always lesson, silence, constraint, correction, and threats! our ancient forefathers knew better. it was by the charm of verses and music that the hebrews, egyptians, and greeks, introduced the principal sciences, the maxims of virtue, and the politeness of manners. without reading, people scarcely believe these things, so distant are they from present custom! nevertheless, little as history is known, there is not a doubt but that this was the common practice for many centuries. however, let us so far correct our own age, as to unite the agreeable and the useful together, as much as lay in our power. but although we can hardly hope to lay aside _awe_ with the generality of children, whose dispositions are headstrong and untractable, we should, nevertheless, not have recourse to it without having patiently tried every other experiment. we should even make them distinctly understand the extent of our demands, allowing a certain medium with which we should be satisfied: for good-humour and confidence should be their natural disposition--otherwise we damp their spirit, and daunt their courage: if they are lively, we irritate; if dull, we stupify them.--fear may be compared to violent remedies employed in extreme cases--they purge, but they alter the temperament, and reduce the organs to extremity. a mind governed by fear, is generally the weaker for it. we should not always menace without chastising, for fear of rendering menace of no avail; but we should menace more frequently than we chastise. as to chastisement, the pain inflicted ought to be as slight as possible--but accompanied with every circumstance which can prick the child with shame and remorse. for example, shew her every thing you have done to avoid coming to this unpleasant extremity--appear to be even affected at it--speak to her, in the presence of others, of the melancholy state of those whose want of reason and good conduct have forced correction upon them; and keep back the ordinary marks of reconciliation, till you see she stands in need of consolation. this chastisement may be either public or private, as it may benefit the child--either in covering her with shame, or shewing her how she has been spared such a mortification--a _public_ exposition should, however, never be resorted to but in the last extremity. it may be as well sometimes to make use of a rational person to perform the office of mediator--who might console the child, and mention such things which would be improper for yourself to do--who might cure her of false shame, and induce her to come to you for reconciliation--and to whom the child, in the emotions of her heart, would open herself more freely than she would dare to do to yourself. above all, let it be manifest that you never exact from a child more than necessary submission: endeavour to effect it so that she may pass her own condemnation, and that you have little else to do but assuage the anguish she has herself inflicted. general rules ought to be adopted as particular occasions may justify: men, and especially children, do not always resemble themselves--that which is good to-day, may be bad to-morrow; a conduct stubbornly uniform can never be advantageous. the fewer formal lessons that are inculcated, the better. a thousand modes of instruction may be adopted in the freedom of conversation, more useful than lessons themselves. i have known many children who have learnt to read during their play; we need only relate to them some diverting story from a book opened in their presence, and make them insensibly become acquainted with their letters; after this, they will themselves be anxious to arrive at the source which has afforded them such amusement. there are two circumstances which spoil every thing; namely, teaching them at first to read in a foreign tongue[ ]--which takes away all pleasure in reading; and making them read with a forced and ridiculous emphasis. give them a book handsomely bound, with neat cuts, and printed with a fine type; every thing which delights the fancy, facilitates study: we should even let them have a book full of short and marvellous stories. after this, do not be uneasy about the child's learning to read--do not fatigue her by requiring too great a precision; let her pronounce naturally as she speaks: other tones are always bad, and partake of the declamation of the stage. when the tongue has acquired sufficient volubility, the chest strength, and the habit of reading been confirmed, she will then read without pain, and with more grace and distinctness. [ ] fenelon says the _latin_ tongue: but this is not practised in england. the manner of teaching to write should be pretty nearly the same. when children can read a little, one may amuse them in making them sort the letters; and if there are several pupils, emulation may be kindled. children are naturally inclined to make figures on paper; and if this propensity be encouraged, without teasing them too much, they will form letters during their play, and accustom themselves by degrees to write. one may also encourage them by the promise of a reward adapted to their taste, and which has no unpleasant consequences. "write me a note," you may say, "inform your brother or cousin of such and such things:" all this (varied as you like) pleases a child, provided that no sad idea of a formal lesson intrude. "a free curiosity," says st. austin, from his own experience, "excites the mental faculties of a child, much more than the formality of rules, or a constraint imposed by fear." observe this grand defect in ordinary educations--all pleasure is placed on one side, and pain on the other: the latter is attached to study, the former to play. what then can be expected from a child, but that, in supporting one of these maxims, she will eagerly fly to her amusements? let us try to invert this order: let us make study agreeable, concealing it under the form of liberty and pleasure: the dull routine of continued application may be sometimes broken in upon by little sallies of amusement. children require these relaxations to preserve the elasticity of their mind. let their imaginations roam a little. permit occasionally some game or diversion, so that ample bounds be given to their spirits; then bring them gently back again to the principal object you have in view. too rigid or too long continued an application to study, is productive of much injury: those who affect this regularity, act more from the convenience of stated hours of discipline, than from wishing to seize every favourable moment of instruction. at the same time, do not suffer any amusement which may agitate the passions of children: on the contrary, every thing which can unbend their faculties, produce an agreeable variety, satisfy a curiosity for useful things, and exercise their body in healthful recreations, should be recommended and practiced in their diversions. the amusements which they like best, are those that keep the body in motion; they are happy if they can but skip from place to place: a shuttle-cock or a ball is sufficient. we should not, however, be uneasy about their diversions; they invent quite enough themselves--it is sufficient if we leave them to their own inventions, watch them with a cheerful countenance, and moderate them when they become too violent. it would be prudent just to make them sensible, as much and as often as we can, of the pleasure which results from the cultivation of the _mind_; such as conversation, news, histories, and many industrious games which include instruction. all this will have its proper effect in due time: but we should not force the feelings of children on this subject; we should only make overtures to them. the period will arrive when their bodies will be inclined to move less, and their minds, more. the care which is taken to season study with amusement, will operate favourably in abating the ardour of youth for dangerous diversions. it is subjection and _ennui_ that beget an impatience for amusement. if a daughter felt less restraint in the presence of a mother, she would not be so anxious to steal away in search of indifferent society. in choosing diversions, care must be taken to avoid all suspicious companions. boys must not mingle with girls; even girls of an unruly and froward disposition must be rejected. games which excite passion, and thoughtlessness, or which produce an improper attitude of the body--frequent visiting abroad, and conversations which give rise to such visits--should be uniformly avoided. when a child is not spoilt by any rude diversion, or is not stimulated by any ardent passion, it will easily find pleasure and content: health and innocence are the sure sources of both: but those who have been accustomed to violent amusements, lose all relish for moderate pleasure, and weary themselves in a restless search after happiness. there may be a satiated taste for amusements, as well as for food: one may be so accustomed to high-seasoned dishes, that a simple and common diet will become flat and insipid. let us, therefore, be on our guard against those violent exercises, which in the end produce _ennui_ and disgust: above all, they are to be particularly dreaded in regard to _children_; who are less capable in suppressing their feelings, and who wish to be in perpetual motion. let us manage them so as to excite a taste for simple things: that great preparations of food be not necessary for their nourishment, nor violent diversions for their amusement. a moderate fare always creates a sufficient appetite, without being obliged to pamper it with _made dishes_, which produce intemperance. "temperance," says an ancient writer, "is the best contriver of luxury: with this temperance, which begets health of body and mind, one always enjoys a soft and tranquil emotion--there is no need of trick or public shew, or expense, to make one happy: some little diversion, or reading, or labor--a walk, or innocent conversation, which relaxes after toil--all or any of these produce a purer delight than is felt from the most exquisite music." it is true, simple pleasures are less lively and interesting than violent ones, which elevate the soul, and affect all the sources of passion. but simple pleasures have a better tendency; they produce an equal and lasting joy, without any bitter consequence. they are always of real service, whereas violent ones may be compared to adulterated wine, which pleases at first, but which eventually injures the health. the very temperament of the soul, as well as the taste, is affected by seeking after such violent and seductive pleasures. all that you can do for children who are under your regulation is, to accustom them to such a simple life as has been just described; to fortify them in such habits as long as you can, to make them foresee the evil consequences attached to other amusements, and not to abandon them to _themselves_; as is too commonly the case, at an age when their passions begin to be shewn, and when, consequently, they stand in need of greater restraint. it must be allowed, that of all the vexations incidental to education, none can be compared with that which is experienced in the rearing of a _stupid_ child. those who have strong lively natural capacities are, indeed, liable to terrible irregularities--passion and presumption master them entirely; but, on the other hand, they have great resources, and may be easily checked, however turbulent. education is, in them, a concealed but vegetating germe, which sometimes bears fruit when experience comes to the aid of reason, and when the passions begin to cool. at least we know how to make them attentive, and awaken their curiosity: they have something in them which makes them take an interest in their lessons, and stimulates their sense of honour--whereas one has no sort of pleasure or gratification in the instruction of _stupid_ children. all their thoughts are distracted: they are never where they ought to be: the most poignant correction has no effect on them: they hear every thing, and feel nothing. this indolence and stupidity makes a child negligent and disgusted with every thing she does. she is in such a case, that the _best mode_ of education runs a risk of miscarrying, if we do not guard against the evil, from earliest infancy. many people who have little depth of penetration, conclude, from this bad success, that nature does _every thing_ in the formation of men of merit, and education _nothing_--instead of remarking that there are dispositions, like barren soils, on which cultivation produces little. it is yet more lamentable when these knotty systems of education have been thwarted or neglected, or badly regulated at the beginning. we must not forget that there are many dispositions among children, in which we are likely to be deceived. they appear at first interesting, because there is attached to early youth a certain fascinating lustre which covers every thing: we, at first, perceive nothing but what is tender and amiable, and this prevents a closer examination of the features of the mind. every sally of their wit surprises us, because we do not expect it at such an age: every error in judgment is permitted, and it has, moreover, the charm of ingenuity: they assume a certain vivacity of deportment, which never fails to pass for sprightliness and intellect. hence it is, that childhood often promises much, but realises little. such a one was celebrated for her wit at five years of age, but now, in proportion to her growth, she has fallen into obscurity and contempt! of all the qualities which children possess, there is but one on which you can calculate with certainty, and that is, _good sense_: this "grows with their growth," provided it be well cultivated. the graces of infancy fade away--its vivacity diminishes--and that tenderness of heart even becomes blunted, in proportion as the passions and an intercourse with designing men harden young people on their entrance into the world. strive, therefore, to discover midst the graces of childhood, whether the disposition you have to manage be deficient in curiosity, and insensible of honest emulation. if this should be the case, it is almost impossible for every one concerned in her tuition, not to be disgusted with so rugged and ungrateful an occupation. every qualification of a child should be roused and brought into action, in order to extricate it from so fatal a lethargy. if, however, you foresee any such consequences about to follow, do not at first be anxious to urge any serious application: take care not to overcharge her memory, for it is that which stuns and stupifies the brain: do not harass her with unpleasant regulations: make her as cheerful as you can, because she labours under the opposite extreme of presumption: do not be afraid of shewing her, with discretion, the extent of her powers: be satisfied with little at a time: make her remark the smallest success: shew her how absurd it is to be afraid of not succeeding in that which she really does well: set her emulation to work. jealousy is more violent among children than we are aware of: we often see some who are absolutely fretting and wearing away, because others are more beloved and caressed than themselves. mothers are often cruel enough to fan this jealous flame, which, however, is of service in extreme cases of indolence and stupidity--but then you should set before the child the examples of those who are but _very little_ superior--for disproportionate examples of those who are greatly superior, serve only to discourage and dismay. let her, occasionally, gain some little victories over those of whom she is jealous: make her, if you can, laugh heartily with yourself at her timidity: and set before her those, equally timid with herself, who have conquered their disposition to fear: make her sensible, by indirect instructions, and the example of others, that timidity and idleness destroy all the mental energies; but be careful not to give these instructions in an austere and impetuous manner: nothing wounds the inmost feelings of a mild and timid child so much as boisterous treatment: on the contrary, let the application which becomes indispensible, be seasoned and relieved by such little circumstances of amusement and recreation as are suited to her disposition. perhaps it will be sometimes necessary to check her by reproaches; but this should not be done by yourself: employ some inferior person, or another child, without appearing yourself to be acquainted with it. st. austin relates, that his mother was once reproached by a servant for drinking pure wine; an ill habit which she had contracted from her infancy, and of which she was cured by the servant's reproach, though all the vehemence and severity of her governess was unable to effect it. in short one should endeavour to excite _a taste_ in the minds of such sort of children, in like manner as one tries to excite it in the palate of those who are sick. _they_ are permitted to have any thing which may cure their loathing; they are indulged in many whims at the expence of certain prescribed rules, provided it be not carried to a dangerous excess. it is much more arduous to create a taste in those that are void of one, than to regulate the taste of those who have not a correct one. there is another kind of sensibility extremely difficult and important to impress them with, and that is, _friendship_. as soon as a child is susceptible of it, there can be no doubt but that you should turn her heart towards those who may be useful to her. friendship will give her every accomplishment that you desire; you have then a certain tie on her, if you know how to regulate it: excess, or a bad choice, are the only things you have to dread. there are, however, some children who are born cunning, reserved, and callous, and who bring every thing home, as it were, to their own bosoms: they deceive their parents, whom fondness has made credulous: they _appear_ to love them: they regulate their inclinations to conform to them: they _seem_ more docile than other children of the same age, who indulge, without restraint, in all their humours and follies: their suppleness, or rather hypocrisy, which conceals a savage temper, assumes a softness of character; and their real disposition does not discover itself till it is too late to reform it. if there really be any child on whom education is incapable of producing a good effect, it is one of the foregoing description; and it must be allowed that the number is greater than we imagine. parents bring themselves with difficulty to believe that their children have a bad heart: when they shut their _own eyes_ upon them, no other person will have the courage to convince them of it; and thus the evil is hourly augmenting. the principal remedy is, to place children, from their earliest infancy, in such a situation where their tempers may be discovered without disguise. always know the very bottom of their heart, before you correct them. they are naturally simple and open; but as soon as you plague them, or give them an example of disguise, they will no longer return to their original simplicity. it is true, that a good and tender-hearted disposition comes from god alone; _we_ can only endeavour to excite it by generous examples, by maxims of honour and disinterestedness, and by a contempt of those people who set too high a value on themselves. we must endeavour to make children betimes sensible of the most natural modes of conduct, and of the pleasure arising from a cordial, and reciprocal friendship. nothing so much conduces to this end, as an intercourse with people who have nothing about them harsh, severe, low, or selfish: children might better associate with those who have other faults, than with those who possess the foregoing ones. we should praise them for every thing they do on the score of friendship, provided it be not misplaced or too violent. parents must likewise appear to them to be animated with the sincerest friendship towards them; for children oftentimes learn of their parents to have no affection for any one object. in short i would check, before friends, all superfluous compliments, all artificial demonstrations of esteem, and all feigned caresses: for by these things you teach them a great deal of deceit towards those whom they ought to regard. there is a very common fault among girls, the opposite to what we have been mentioning; namely, the affecting to be uncommonly struck and delighted with the most insignificant things. they cannot see two people who are both equally bad, without taking the part, in their hearts, of one against the other. they are full either of affection or aversion, without the least cause: they perceive no defect in what they esteem, and no one good quality in what they despise. you must not, at first, make a formidable opposition to all this--for contradiction will only fortify them in their vagaries: but observe, by degrees, to a young girl, that you know better than herself what good there is in that which she likes, and what evil in that which she detests. take care also, occasionally, to make her sensible of certain defects which are sometimes found in the object of her regard, and of certain good qualities which are discernible in that of her hatred: do not be too urgent: press her not too much, and you will find that she will come to herself, and coincide with your sentiments. after which, make her reflect on her past caprices, and the most unreasonable circumstances attending them: tell her, gently, that she will by and bye see those of which she is not yet cured, when they cease to act. recount to her similar errors of _your own_ when you was of her age. above all, shew her as clearly, and as sensibly as you can, that good and evil are inherent in every object of our love and aversion: this will repress her ardour in the indulgence of either the one or the other. never promise children, by way of reward, fine clothes or dainties; this has two direct evils attending it: the first will teach them to set a value on what they ought to despise; the second deprives you of an opportunity of establishing _other_ rewards which would facilitate your labour. be on your guard against threatening them to make them study, or subjecting them to any formal rule. make as few rules as possible: and when there is an absolute necessity for one, make it pass lightly under the child's notice, without giving it such a name; and always give some reason why a thing is done at one time and in one place, rather than in another. you run a risk of disheartening children if they are not praised when they have done well. praise may sometimes be apprehended on account of its exciting vanity; but it should nevertheless be employed to animate, not to intoxicate, children. we find that st. paul has often made use of it, in encouraging the weak, and in softening his reproaches. the fathers have also made the same use of it. it is true, that to make it serviceable, it must be so tempered that it take away all exaggeration, and flattery, and that the good resulting from it be attributed to god alone, as the source. children may be recompensed by innocent and industrious games; by walks and recreations, in which conversation may take a useful turn: by little presents which may be a kind of prize--as pictures, prints, medals, maps of geography, or gilt books. chap. vi. _of the use of history for children._ children are passionately fond of marvellous tales: one sees them every day transported with joy, or drowned in tears, at the recital of certain adventures. do not fail to profit by this propensity. when you find them disposed to listen to you, relate to them some short and pretty fable: but choose some ingenious and harmless one respecting animals: repeat them just as they are composed, and shew them the moral resulting therefrom. as to _pagan fables_, a girl will be happy in her total ignorance of them, as they are extremely indelicate and replete with impious absurdities. if, however, you are not able to keep a child ignorant of them, impress her with a sense of their horror. when you have repeated one fable, wait till you are asked to begin another--thus leaving the child hungry, as it were, for more mental food. when curiosity is at last excited, recount certain choice histories, but in as few words as possible: connect them together, and postpone the sequel from one day to another, so that you keep the children in suspense, and impatient to know the termination. be animated and familiar in your manner of repeating--make the personages speak--and children, who have a lively imagination, will fancy they hear and see them. for instance, relate the history of joseph--make his brothers speak like brutal characters, but jacob like a tender and afflicted father--then let joseph himself speak--taking pleasure, as being at the head of an egyptian establishment, in concealing himself from his brothers--in making them afraid of him; and, at last, in discovering himself to them. this natural representation, joined to the extraordinary circumstances of the history, will delight a child; provided she be not teased with too many similar recitals. you may let her express a desire for such stories, and promise them as a recompense for a prudent conduct, provided they assume not the form of study--provided the child is not _obliged_ to repeat them; for these repetitions, if not voluntarily undertaken, will discompose and fret her, and take away all pleasure arising from such sort of narrations. it must be observed that if a child has any facility in speaking, she will, of her own accord, relate to those whom she likes, such histories as have pleased her most: but do not let her make a rule of it. you may employ some one, who is on a footing of perfect intimacy with the child, to appear anxious to learn of her a particular story: the child will be delighted in repeating it. do not appear yourself to listen very earnestly to it--let her go on as she likes, without checking her in her faults. the consequence will be, that when she is more accustomed to repeat, you may gently make her sensible of a better manner of narrating, by rendering it short, simple, and easy; and by a choice of circumstances better calculated to represent forcibly the nature of each thing. if you have many children, accustom them by degrees to _represent_ the historical characters whom they read of--one may be abraham, the other, isaac. these representations will charm them more than any other games--will accustom them to think, and to utter serious things with pleasure--and will indelibly fix such histories on their memory. we should strive to give them a taste for scriptural history rather than for any other; not in _telling_ them that it is finer, which they will probably not believe--but in causing them to _feel_ it to be so. make them observe how important, wonderful, and curious those histories are: how full of natural representation, and a spirit of noble simplicity. those of the creation, the fall of adam, the deluge, the call of abraham, the sacrifice of isaac, the adventures of joseph (which have been briefly discussed), and the birth and flight of moses, are not only calculated to awaken the curiosity of children, but in discovering to them the origin of religion, fix the foundations of it in their bosoms. we must be strangely ignorant of the essential parts of religion not to observe that they are chiefly historical: it is by a tissue, as it were, of marvellous facts that we discover its establishment, its perpetuity, and all that can induce us to believe and to practice it. it is not to be supposed that by all this we wish children to be plunged into profound knowledge--on the contrary, these histories are short, various, and calculated to please the meanest capacity. the almighty, who best knows the faculties of that being whom he has created, has clothed religion in _popular facts_, which, far from overpowering the simple, assists them in conceiving and retaining its mysteries. for example, tell a child, that in god there are three equal persons, but of one nature: by the habit of hearing and repeating these terms, she may retain them in her memory; but i doubt whether she will understand the sense of them. relate to her that as jesus christ went up out of the waters of jordan, the almighty caused these words to be heard--"this is my beloved son in whom i am well pleased--hear him:" add, that the holy ghost descended on our saviour, in the form of a dove--and thus, you make her sensible of the trinity, in a history which she will never forget. here are _three persons_ which she will distinguish by the difference of their actions; you have nothing more, therefore, but to inform her that all these together make but one god. this example is sufficient to shew the use of history. although it may _seem_ to make instruction more tedious, it really abridges it; and renders the dryness of catechism, where mysteries are detached from facts, unnecessary. we may observe that history was an ancient mode of instruction. the admirable method which st. austin has pointed out for the instruction of the ignorant, was not suggested by that father alone--it was the universal method and practice of the church: it consisted in shewing, by a succession of historical facts, religion to be as ancient as the world--jesus christ conspicuous in the old testament, and pervading every part of the new: which, in truth, is the foundation of christian instruction. all this demands a little more time and care than are devoted to the usual habits of instruction with which many people content themselves: but in adopting such a mode, religion will be truly taught; whereas, when children are not so instructed, they have only confused ideas of jesus christ, the gospel, the church, of the necessity of absolute submission to its decrees, and of the foundation of those virtues with which the christian character should inspire us. the _historical_ catechism, which is simple, short, and more perspicuous than the ordinary catechism, includes every thing necessary to be known thereupon--so that it need not be said that much study is necessary.[ ] [ ] i have omitted the remark which here follows--because it alludes to the catechism of the _council of trent_, with which we have nothing to do in this country. let us now add to the facts before mentioned from scripture, the passage of the red sea, and the sojourning of the people in the desert--where they ate bread which fell from heaven, and drank water which moses caused to flow from the rock, by striking it with his rod. represent the miraculous conquest of the promised land, where the waters of jordan went backwards toward their source, and the walls of a city fell down of themselves in the sight of the besiegers. describe, in as natural colours as possible, the combats of saul and david: and how the latter, a youth, without arms and habited like a shepherd, became the conqueror of the fierce and gigantic goliah. do not forget the glory and wisdom of solomon: how he decided between the two women who disputed about a child--but do not forget to impress on the mind, how he fell from this height of wisdom; dishonouring himself by an effeminacy, which is almost the inevitable consequence of overgrown prosperity. next make the prophets, as delegated from heaven, converse with kings: shew how they read the future as if in a book: how they suffered continual persecution for having spoken the truth. speak, in succession, of the first destruction of jerusalem--represent the temple burning, and the holy city in ruins on account of the sins of the people. relate the babylonian captivity, and how the jews wept "when they thought on sion." before their return, represent the interesting adventures of tobit, judith, esther, and daniel. it may not be amiss to let children give their opinion on the different characters of these holy persons, to know which of them they admire the most. one will prefer esther, the other judith--and this may excite a little controversy between them, which will impress those histories more strongly on their minds, and form their judgments thereupon. afterwards, bring back the jews from captivity to jerusalem, and make them repair their desolated city; then paint, in smiling colours, the peace and happiness which succeeded. shortly you will have to draw a picture of the cruel antiochus, who died in false repentance: describe, under this persecutor, the victories of the maccabees, and the martyrdom of the seven brothers of that name. descend regularly to the miraculous birth of st. john: and relate, more in detail, that of our saviour jesus christ: after which you must select in the four gospels all the remarkable occurrences of his life--his preaching in the temple at twelve years of age--his baptism--his retreat and temptation in the desert--the calling of the apostles--the miracle of the loaves--the conversion of the sinful woman, who anointed the feet of our saviour with a precious perfume--washed them with her tears, and dried them with her hair. represent the samaritan woman instructed; lazarus restored to life; and christ's triumphant entry into jerusalem. next describe his passion, and his resurrection from the tomb. afterwards make them remark the familiarity with which he continued forty days with his disciples, until they saw him ascend into heaven. next will follow the descent of the holy ghost; the stoning of stephen; the conversion of st. paul; and the calling of the centurion cornelius: the voyages of the apostles, and particularly of st. paul, are _yet_ extremely interesting. select the most wonderful histories of the martyrs, and give a general outline of the celestial life of the first christians: mingle with it the courage of young virgins, the astonishing austerity of those who led a solitary life, the conversion of emperors and of the empire, the blindness of the jews, and the punishment which yet awaits them. all these histories (managed with discretion) of the whole series of religion, from the creation to the present time, would make an agreeable impression on the lively and tender minds of children; and would fill them with such noble ideas of it as would never be forgotten. they would even see, in this narration, the hand of god always lifted up to protect the good, and to punish the wicked. they would accustom themselves to behold the almighty, working all in all, secretly directing the movement of creatures however remote from himself. but care must be taken to select such passages in these histories as afford the most beautiful and magnificent images; for every faculty must be employed to shew religion to children adorned with every thing amiable, pleasing, and august; and not to represent it, as is too commonly the case, as something sad and disagreeable. besides the inestimable advantage of teaching religion in this manner to children--such a series of pleasant histories, which they learn betimes to remember, awakens their curiosity for serious things; makes them sensible of the pleasures of the mind, and excites an interest in the hearing of _other_ histories which have some connection with those they already know. but again i repeat, never make a _rigid law_ that they should hear and retain these things--much less let them be inculcated as _regular lessons_: for the pleasure which they take in such recitals should be _voluntary_, and without this, nothing important can be effected. do not urge them much--you will attain the desired end, even with ordinary understandings:[ ] you have nothing to do but exercise their capacities _moderately_, and let their curiosity be excited, by degrees. but you will say, how are those histories to be repeated in a lively, short, natural, and agreeable manner? where are the teachers who can accomplish such a thing? to this i answer, that i propose it only that you should _endeavour_ to choose persons of an excellent understanding to govern your children, and that they be gifted, as much as possible, with this method of teaching: every governess will undertake it in proportion to her talents. but if there be only a candour and openness of intellect, the thing will go on with good effect when children are formed to this manner, which is natural and simple. [ ] i may be permitted to add, that if children do not discover any propensity to these studies, we should neither neglect nor despise them; provided their dispositions and conduct be good and regular in other matters. besides, nothing conclusive can, at first, be drawn from their inattention to these subjects; for a child at _twelve_ years of age may evince as great a _regard_ for them, as she did _indifference_, at _ten_. there is little consistency in the human intellect at such a volatile period: the girl of gaity and dissipation at _eighteen_, may become the devotee at _five and twenty_. _t._ to discourse or description, may be added the sight of _pictures_, which represent sacred subjects. prints will be sufficient, which may be preserved for ordinary use--but when an opportunity offers of shewing a child _good paintings_, it must not be neglected: for the force of colouring, and the grandeur of composition, will strike the imagination with greater effect. chap. vii. _of inculcating principles of religion in the minds of children._ it has been before observed that the first years of childhood are not calculated for reasoning: not that children are divested of those ideas and general principles of reason which hereafter become manifest, but that they are ignorant of many facts, which hinders the application of their reason; and, moreover, leaves that agitation of the brain, which prevents them from connecting their ideas. we should, however, without pressing them, gently direct the use of their reason towards a knowledge of god. persuade them of christian truths, without giving them subjects of doubt. they observe some one to be dead: they know that burial afterwards follows: say to them--"is this dead person in the tomb?" "_yes._" "he is not then in paradise?" "_pardon me, he is._" "how can he be in the grave and in paradise at the same time?" "_it is his soul which is in paradise--his body only in the grave._" "his soul and body then are not the same thing?" "_no._" "the soul, therefore, is not dead?" "_no--it will live for ever in heaven._" add: "and you, do you wish to be saved?" "_yes._" "but what is being saved?" "_it is the soul's going into paradise._" "and what is death?" "_it is the mouldering of the body into dust, when the soul has left it._" i do not pretend to say that children may _at first_ be taught to answer in this manner: though i may add that many have given me such answers when they were four years of age. let us, however, suppose a child to be extremely reserved and uninstructed:--the worst that can happen is, the waiting only a few more years with patience. shew children a house, and make them comprehend that this house did not build itself. the stones or bricks, say you, were not elevated without some one's carrying them so high. it may be as well, too, to shew them the masons at work: then make them contemplate heaven and earth, and the principal things which god has made for the use of man: say to them "how much more beautiful and better made is the world than a house! was it made of itself? no--assuredly it was made by the hands of the almighty." first follow the method of scripture. strike their imaginations in as lively a manner as possible--propose to them nothing which may not be clothed with sensible images. represent god as seated on a throne--with eyes more brilliant than the rays of the sun, and more piercing than the lightning--represent him with ears that hear every thing; with hands that support the universe; with arms always stretched out to punish the wicked; and with a tender and paternal heart to make those happy who love him. the time will come when this information may be rendered more exact. observe every opening of the mind which a child presents to you: try her by different methods, so that you may discover how these great truths will best occupy her attention. above all, talk of nothing new, without familiarising her to it by some obvious comparison. for example--ask her if she would rather die than renounce jesus christ--she will answer--_yes_. then say--"how, would you suffer your head to be cut off in order to enter paradise?" _yes._ the child will now think she has sufficient courage to do it. but you, who are willing to make her sensible that nothing can be effected without _grace_, will gain nothing, if you merely say that grace alone is sufficient to produce faithfulness--the child does not understand those words; and if you accustom her to repeat them without understanding them, you gain nothing by it. what then is to be done? relate to her the history of st. peter: represent him saying, in a presumptuous tone of voice--"i will follow thee even unto death, though all the rest should desert thee, yet will i never abandon thee." then describe his fall: he denies his master, christ, three times--even a servant makes him tremble. declare why god permitted this weakness--then make use of the comparison of a child or sick person who cannot walk alone--and make her comprehend, that as an infant must be supported in the arms of its nurse, so we stand in need of the almighty's assistance. thus you will make her sensible of the mystery of grace. but the most difficult truth for a child to comprehend is, that we have a soul more precious than our body. children are at first accustomed to talk about the soul; and the custom is advantageous--for this language, which they do not understand, is perpetually exciting them to have a (confused) notion of the distinction of body and soul, until they are able really to conceive it. in proportion as early prejudices are pernicious when they lead to error, so are they useful when they conduct the imagination to truth, until reason is gradually directed towards it by the force of principles. but, at length, we must fix _a true persuasion_--and how are we to set about it? is it in plunging a young girl in philosophical subtleties? nothing is worse calculated for it. we must confine ourselves to render clear and distinct to her mind, what she hears and speaks every day. as to her _person_, she is perhaps too well instructed in the knowledge of _that_: every thing induces her to flatter, adorn, and idolise it. an essential point is gained if you can inspire her with contempt for it, by observing something of greater value about her. say then to a child who is capable of a little reasoning--is it your soul that eats? if she answers absurdly, do not be harsh with her--but tell her mildly that the soul does not eat--it is the body that eats--the body, which resembles the brutes. have brutes intellect--are they learned? _no_, the child will answer. but they eat, you will add, although they have no intellect: you see, therefore, that it is not the soul which eats--it is the body which takes food to nourish it--it is _that_ which walks, and which sleeps. and what does the soul do? it reasons--it knows every one--it loves certain things, and dislikes others. go on, in a playful manner, "do you know this table?" _yes._ "you know it then?" _to be sure._ "you see clearly that it is not made like that chair, which is formed of wood, and not like the chimney piece, of stone?" _yes_, the child will reply. proceed no farther without being convinced, by her tone of voice, and by the child's eyes, that these simple truths have struck her. then say--but does this table know you? you will see that the child will begin laughing, and ridiculing, as it were, such a question.--no matter: go on--which loves you the best, that table or that chair? she will still keep laughing--but pursue the discourse--is the window very wise? then try to go further--does this doll answer you when you speak to it? _no._ why--has it no intellect? _no, none._ it is not then like you; for you know it, and it does not know you. but after death, when you will be under the ground, shall not you be like this doll? _yes._ you will no longer feel any thing? _no._ you will no longer know any body? _no._ and your soul will be in heaven? _yes._ will it not then see god? _true, it will._ and where is the soul of the doll at present? you will perceive that the child will answer with a laugh--or at least that it will make you understand the doll has no soul. upon this foundation, and by means of these simple illustrations, enforced at different times, you may accustom the child, by degrees, to attribute both to the body and the soul, that which is peculiar to each--provided you do not indiscreetly propose to her consideration, certain actions which are common to the one and the other. all subtilty must be avoided, as it perplexes truth; and we must content ourselves to point out, with care and correctness, those circumstances that mark distinctly the difference between the body and soul. sometimes one meets with such stupid characters, whom even the help of a good education will not assist in the comprehension of these truths: however, they may be sometimes clearly _conceived_, without being perspicuously expressed. god sees better than we do into the spirit of man, what is there placed for the knowledge of his mysteries. with respect to those children in whom we discover a mind capable of further researches, one may, without throwing them into a study which savours too much of philosophy, make them conceive, according to their inclination, what is meant when it is said that god is a spirit, and that the soul is also a spirit. i think that the best and most simple method of making them conceive this spirituality of god and of the soul, is, to make them remark the difference between a dead and living man: in the one, there is nothing but a body; in the other, the soul is united with the body. afterwards you may shew them that that which is capable of reasoning, is more perfect than that which has mere form and motion. then illustrate, by various examples, that no body perishes--that it is only separated: thus, pieces of burnt wood fall into charcoal, or evaporate in smoke. if then, you will add, that which is of itself only charcoal (incapable of knowing and thinking) perishes not--how much more shall the soul, which is capable of both knowledge and thought, endure for ever! the body may die--that is to say, may quit the soul and shrink into dust--but the soul will live; for it will always have the faculty of thinking. those who instruct children, should develop, as much as possible, these truths, which are the foundation of all religion. but if success should not crown their exertions, especially with dull obstinate children, let them hope that god will enlighten internally. there is, however, a sensible and practical way of confirming this knowledge of the distinction between body and soul--and that is, accustom children to despise the one, and regard the other, throughout their manners and intercourse with the world. praise that instruction which nourishes the soul and causes it to expand: esteem those great truths which animate it to become wise and virtuous. despise luxury of diet and dress, and every thing which enervates the body: make them sensible how much honour, a good conscience, and religion, are above these sensual pleasures. by the force of such sentiments, without reasoning upon the body and the soul, the ancient romans taught their children to despise the body, and to sacrifise it to every thing which could inspire their minds with the pleasure of virtue and glory. with them, it was not simply persons of high birth, it was the entire mass of the people who lived temperately, disinterestedly, despising life, and sensible only of honour and wisdom, which excited their applause or imitation. when i speak of the ancient romans, i mean those who lived before the extension of their empire had corrupted their simplicity of manners. let it not be said that children are incapable of receiving these prejudices from education. how often do we discover certain maxims which have been established among us, against the impression of our senses, by the force of custom alone. for instance, that of duelling--founded on a false principle of honour. it is not by reasoning, but by taking for granted, without reasoning, the maxim to be established on a principle of honour, that life is exposed, and that every man who carries a sword lives in continual danger. those who have no quarrel may have one every moment with certain people, who are seeking every pretext to signalize themselves in some duel. however moderate one may be, such moderation is hardly preserved, without violating that false honour, which will not suffer you to avoid a quarrel by an explanation, or to refuse becoming the second of some one who has an inclination to fight. what authorities have not failed in eradicating so barbarous a custom! see, therefore, how powerful are the prejudices of education--but how much more powerful will they be on the side of virtue, supported by reason, and animated with the hope of happiness hereafter! the romans of whom we have been speaking, and before them the greeks--in the good times of their republics, brought up their children in the contempt of luxury and effeminacy: they taught them to esteem glory--to be ardent, not to heap up riches, but to conquer those kings who possessed them--to believe that virtue alone was the road to happiness. this spirit was so strongly established in the foregoing republics, that they atchieved incredible things according to those maxims which were so contrary to the opinions of all other people. the examples of so many martyrs, and of other primitive christians of all conditions and ages, demonstrates that the grace of baptism being united with the help of education, may make impressions still more wonderful among the faithful, to enable them to despise every thing which is attached to the body. seek then for every agreeable circumstance, every striking comparison, to convince children that our bodies are like the brutes--our souls like angels. represent a knight mounted on a horse and directing its course: and say, that the soul is to the body, what the horseman is to the horse. finish your remarks by observing that the soul is weak and miserable, when abandoned to the direction of the body; which, like a furious horse, would hurl it down a precipice. relate, also, that the beauty of the body, or external person, is like a flower which blossoms in the morning, and withers and is trod under foot in the evening--but that the soul is the express image of the immortal beauty of god. there is, you may add, an order of things much more excellent, which cannot be seen by the gross eyes of the flesh--whereas every thing here below is subject to change and corruption. in order to make children sensible that there are really certain things, which neither the eyes nor the ears can apprehend, you may ask them whether it is not true that such a person is wise--and that such an one is witty or ingenious.--when they have answered _yes_, you may observe--"but have you _seen_ the wisdom of such a person? of what colour is it? have you _heard_ it? does it make much noise? have you _touched_ it? is it cold or hot?" the child will laugh: nevertheless put the same questions relating to wit or ingenuity.--she will appear quite astonished when she is asked of what colour is wit--whether it is round or square? then you may make her remark that she knows there are many things in reality which she can neither see, touch, nor hear; and that these things are spiritual. but you must enter with great soberness and caution on these sort of conversations with girls. i only propose it here for the sake of those, whose curiosity and reason, will bring you, in spite of every effort to the contrary, to such questions. you must regulate the discourse according to the bias of the child's mind, and the necessity of the case. retain their understandings, as much as possible, within common limits: and teach them that there is a modesty with regard to science, which belongs to their sex, almost as delicate as that which is inspired by the horror of vice. at the same time you must bring imagination to the aid of intellect; to give them pleasing images of the truths of religion, which the gross senses of the body are unable to behold. paint to them the glory of heaven, such as st. john has represented it!--tears wiped away from every eye--neither death, disease, nor lamentation--all agonies ceasing, all evils at an end--eternal joy on the head of the righteous, like the waters on the head of a man immersed in the sea! display that glorious jerusalem, of which god himself will be the sun, to create days without an end--a river of peace, a torrent of delight, a fountain of life, shall water it--there, every thing shall be gold, pearls, and precious stones. i am well aware that all these images are attached to things sensible; but after having animated children with such a beautiful spectacle so as to rivet their attention, one may adopt the method just recommended to bring them to spiritual things. conclude, that we are, in this world, like travellers in an inn, or under a tent: that the body is hastening to decay, and that all our efforts can retard its corruption but a few years: but that the soul will fly away to that celestial country, where it will live for ever with god. if children can be brought to contemplate these grand objects with pleasure, and to judge of the common things of life through the medium of such high hopes, we shall have accomplished a most important task. i would even try to impress them with strong ideas of the _resurrection of the body_. teach them that nature is but the common order which god has established in his works, and that miracles are only exceptions to this common order; so that it is as easy for the almighty to work an hundred miracles, as it is for me to go out of my room a quarter of an hour before my usual time of departure. then call to recollection the history of the resurrection of lazarus, of jesus christ, and of those apparitions which were recognised for forty days by a great number of persons. next, shew that it cannot be difficult for that being who created man, to bring him to life after dissolution; and do not forget the comparison of a grain of corn which is sowed in the earth, and decays, in order to reproduce and multiply its species. moreover, these moral lessons must not be taught children by memory, in like manner as they are taught the catechism: such a method would have an immediate tendency to convert religion into an affected language, or at least into troublesome formalities: only assist their understanding, and put them in the way of comprehending the foregoing truths on their proper foundations: they will, in consequence, appear more consistent and agreeable, and become more vividly impressed on the mind. take advantage of every opportunity to make them develop with clearness, what they at present confusedly behold. always bear in mind that nothing will be more dangerous than to speak to them with contempt of this life, when, by the tenor of your conduct, they discover that you do not deliver your sentiments with sincerity and truth. in every period of life, example has an astonishing effect upon us--in infancy, it is every thing. children are very fond of imitation; they have not yet acquired habits which render the imitation of another difficult--besides, not being of themselves able to judge profoundly of things, they judge much more from the example of those who propose, than from the reasons which they adduce in proposing, them. actions are much more striking than words: so that if they observe your actions do not correspond with your precepts, they will be disposed to consider religion, only as a _specious ceremony_, and virtue as an _impracticable idea_. never indulge yourself before children, in any railleries about things which have relation to religion, or on the indiscretion of any pious persons: you may think all this innocent--you are mistaken--it will have its certain consequences. never speak of god, or of what regards the worship of him, but with seriousness and respect, free from all levity--observe decorum in every thing, but particularly on this head. people who are very nice observers of it in what regards the world, are frequently gross and negligent in respect to religion. when a child shall have made such necessary reflections as lead to a knowledge of herself and of god--add to them the historical facts in which she has already been instructed: this union will enable her to have a correct idea of the whole of religion: and she will remark with pleasure the connection between such reflections and the history of mankind. she will have observed that man did not make himself, that his soul is the image of god, that his body has been formed with so many admirable resources, by an industry and power which can only be divine--and she will then recollect the creation. afterwards she will think that he is born with inclinations contrary to reason, that he has been deceived by pleasure, carried away by anger, and that his body hurries on his soul, contrary to reason, as a furious courser rushes forward with a horseman; instead, of the soul governing the body. she will perceive the cause of this disorder in the history of the sin of our first parents; and this history will lead her to that of the saviour, who reconciles man to god. such is the foundation of religion. to make young people better understand the mysteries, actions, and precepts of christ, we must dispose them to read the evangelists. they must, therefore, be early prepared to read the word of god, as they are prepared to receive the holy communion of the sacraments.[ ] [ ] here follows, in the original, certain matter which may be thought to savour too strongly, on the one hand, of the authority due to the _romish church_; and on the other, of principles (resulting therefrom) which are now called _evangelical_; and as such, contrary to the doctrine and tenets of the established church of england. remember, then, to place before their eyes the gospel, and the great examples of antiquity; but not till you are assured of their docility, and simplicity of faith. provided you lay the foundation of humility, submission, and an aversion to all suspicious singularity, you will shew young people, with great benefit and effect, every thing the most perfect in the law of god, in the institution of the sacrament, and in the practice of the ancient church. i know that one cannot hope to give these instructions, in their full latitude, to all sorts of children; i propose it only, in order that we may make use of them, as exactly as possible, according to circumstances, time, and the dispositions of them whom we instruct. superstition, without doubt, is to be avoided in the sex: but nothing eradicates or prevents it better than solid instruction: this instruction, although it ought to be restrained within proper bounds, and different from the studies of the learned, produces greater effects than is ordinarily imagined. a person sometimes thinks himself to be well informed, who in reality is not so; and whose ignorance is even so great that he is not in a condition to feel what he wants in order to know the foundation of christianity. never suffer any thing to be mixed with the faith, or the practices, of religion, that is not drawn from the gospel. carefully guard children against certain abuses which are but too common, and which are, therefore, too apt to be considered as points of present discipline in the church. these errors are not to be guarded against without recurring to the source, and knowing the origin of the usages and customs of holy men of the primitive ages. children who are naturally too credulous, should never be used to admit _lightly_ certain histories without authority; nor to attach themselves to certain devotions which are the offspring of an indiscreet zeal. the true way of instructing them in these subjects, is, not to criticise those things which have often been introduced from pious notions, but to shew, without passing a severe censure, that they rest on no solid foundation. content yourself with omitting these matters in your instructions relating to the christian religion: this silence will be sufficient, at first, to enable children to form a perfect idea of christianity, without adding practical cautions: in the course of your instructions, you may prepare them, by degrees, against the reasoning of _calvinists_: i think this will not be useless, as we mingle every day with people prejudiced in favour of calvinistical opinions, who deliver them in the most familiar conversations. give children a taste for plain, sensible, and edifying discourses--not for those that are full of vain and affected ornament: accustom their imaginations to hear death spoken of: to see, without perturbation, a funeral pall--an open grave--sick people who are dying, and those already dead: if you can do so without exposing them to violent emotions of fear. nothing is more to be lamented than to see many people, who are really religious, express a continued dread of death: some absolutely turn pale at finding the number _thirteen_ at table--or on having had certain dreams--or having seen a saltseller thrown down: the fear arising from these imaginary presages is a gross remnant of paganism: make children see the folly and absurdity of them. although women may not have the same opportunities of shewing their courage, as men, they ought nevertheless to possess it. cowardice is despicable, every where, and has always bad effects. a woman should know how to resist vain alarms, and should be firm against unforeseen danger: let her cry and be agitated on great occasions only, and in them let virtue be her chief support. a christian of either sex should never be a coward. the soul of a christian, if one may so express it, is the contempt of this life, and the love of that which is to come. chap. viii. _on religious studies._[ ] [ ] the present original chapter is substituted for that of fenelon, as being more applicable, in the opinion of the translator, to the generality of female readers; at least to those of his own country. the preceding observations have sufficiently convinced us of the importance of religion, both as it affects our temporal and eternal welfare. it now follows that we instruct our children in the reading of certain religious works, which are not only considered to contain wholesome doctrine, but which may strengthen us in the opinions we have cherished, and establish, on an unshaken basis, "the reason of the hope that is in us." without a pretty accurate information of those _data_, on which our religion is formed, we become subject to the caprice or violence of certain artful characters, who seldom fail to perplex us, and undermine many of the essential articles of the christian faith; and who ultimately leave us, after pulling down the fair fabric we had built, in all the misery of doubt and distraction. the scriptures may be said to be written with the finger of god, on adamant which can never perish: it is not in the power of man to shake their authority, or to divert their proper influence on a sincere and pious mind. it is our duty to be careful to comprehend them thoroughly, to have as clear a conception as possible of their more mysterious parts, without harassing our minds if some things still remain for future revelation. we are not to censure what we do not, at first, understand: reason and knowledge are progressive--by degrees, the mist of ignorance is cleared away, and the sunshine of intelligence succeeds. above all, let us not presumptuously conclude certain passages to be irrecoverably obscure, without consulting the many able commentators who have treated on them; but as the library of a mother may not be extensively theological, let us apply for information to those pious pastors, and studious men, who have made these commentators their particular study. if we are so eager to satisfy ourselves and our children on the trifling topics that ordinary conversation gives rise to, how much more anxious should we be to obtain certainty and truth on the important doctrines of revelation! i do not, however, mean that a child is to be always reading the bible, or sermons, or the catechism--nothing is so injudicious. at her tender years she can comprehend little of the doctrinal points of scripture; and besides, from such constant habits of perusing religious books, she may become fatigued and disgusted, and turn an indifferent ear to all future application to them. let us avoid making children affectedly knowing in those subjects which sometimes require the mature years and profound study of divines to comprehend. nothing is so disgusting as _cant_; as religious quotations in young people, who cannot, from their years and habits, have formed an accurate idea either of the meaning or application of what they quote: such things savour strongly of those _suspicious singularities_ which fenelon is so anxious to eradicate. the habit of quoting scripture in young persons of either sex, carries with it a pertness and conceit, which all judicious parents will be careful to discourage. sacred truths, or religious denunciations, are not to be enforced by the levity of youth; ignorance and hypocrisy may be suspected where such premature sanctity prevails. if there be one thing more than another, which destroys the simplicity and harmless cheerfulness of girls, it is the giving them notions of puritannical gravity, and artificial sobriety of behaviour: joy and elasticity of spirits are not of themselves criminal. if we repress these innocent ebullitions, by inculcating formality and fastidiousness, we do as much mischief to the growth of the mind, as we should do to that of an upright and proportionate body, by the application of bandages and ligatures. no small degree of care and skill is requisite for the direction of religious studies in young people, and especially in females; because the opposite sex, which is always fond of triumph, will be exerting every art, and trying every expedient, to weaken and subvert their arguments. if reason or superior knowledge fail, ridicule is resorted to; and this, it must be confessed, has a very strong effect on those young people of a disposition above described. in early years, religious impressions should be kept solemnly within the breast: they should be our consolation in affliction, our hope in distress, and the grand stimulus to prayer and meditation. it is well known, that from a premature disclosure of crude religious sentiments, ridicule and disgust are excited; and many an amiable and pious girl has suffered her principles to be shaken, and her faith to be overturned, by the buffoonery and sarcasm of a weak and contemptible antagonist. let us endeavour to guard against this; and to prevent any ill effects arising from those important studies, which should be the ornament and solace of our lives. from no quarter can a child receive religious instruction with more benefit than from a _mother_; and in proportion to the ignorance or indiscretion of the latter, will be that of the former. if a child is unaccustomed to see books of religion in her mother's library, she can have but little curiosity to peruse them; and if they at last be obtruded on her, she will naturally suspect the sincerity of her instructor, who produces works which she deems of the highest importance to her pupil's welfare, but of which she herself does not possess a single copy. this evil is easily remedied, if parents would only consider the importance of religious education; if, instead of crowding their shelves with the flimsy productions of novelists and romancers, they would admit a few judicious works, which treat of the evidences of the christian religion, and describe the chief doctrines by which it is upheld. a portion of these studies might be given at stated times, or as the inclination of the child prompts, so as not to make them too formal or severe. by the blessing of providence, we have, in our own country, a great abundance of excellent religious tracts, which display the rise, progress and establishment of the christian religion. men of eminence and piety--archbishops, bishops, divines of every rank, and laymen, have all contributed their talents, with various ability and success, to set forth the glory of the gospel, and the truths of the kingdom of heaven. let us, therefore, attend to the doctrines which these wise and virtuous men, who have passed a long and studious life, as labourers in the vineyard of christ, have illustrated and enforced. let us not indulge chimeras and conceits of our own; but, with a diffidence and timidity, listen to those opinions of the learned and the good, whose abilities and opportunities have best entitled them to pronounce judgment. nothing should be so much avoided as hasty and obstinate conclusions, drawn from premises which are not sufficiently understood. in proportion to the breadth and depth of the foundation, will be the strength of the superstructure; and if we take care to place in the hands of young religious pupils, such sound and serious books as awaken piety, without kindling enthusiasm--as lead and satisfy the reason, without exciting vain and sceptical curiosity--as strengthen the mind, and meliorate the heart, without creating vanity, selfishness, and hypocrisy--we shall, i ardently conceive, have effected _that_ which it was our wish and duty to perform. agreeably to these principles and reflections, i am desirous of recommending such plain, perspicuous, and sound works, as comprehend every thing relating to the elements, doctrines, and practice of christianity; and such as may not be difficult, or attended with great expence, in the procuring. . the ten commandments; _and the th, th, and th chapters of the gospel, according to st. matthew_. these important parts of holy writ contain a fund of the most excellent and essential doctrines for a christian to know and practice; the primitive christians used to commit them to memory, and instruct their children in the application of them.[ ] [ ] perhaps it may be advisable to have them printed separately, in large striking letters, so as to be impressed stronger on the child's imagination. the following production may be worth obtaining; "an abstract _of the historical part of the old testament, with references to other parts of the scripture, especially to the new testament_;" which are placed at length in an opposite column. london: printed by w. bowyer, , vo. this is a very useful, though not generally known, publication. if it has not been reprinted, it is now probably scarce. the work is "inscribed to the founders, benefactors, and trustees, of the charity schools." it was composed by that learned printer, mr. bowyer; and the introduction, written by way of preface, bears strong marks of the piety and talents of its author. it is followed by a "translation of a letter from the earl of mirandola and concordia, to his nephew, then an officer in the army of the emperor charles v." this letter, which is too long to extract, is serious and impressive; and such as does great honour to the religious principles, and sound sense of the writer. . dr. doddridge's _three sermons on the evidences of christianity_, separately published, from the particular superintendance and recommendation of the present bishop of london. it is an useful tract, and is sold very cheap. . the (present) bishop of london's _summary of the evidences of christianity, &c._ which may be considered one of the most useful, and perspicuous treatises extant; it is very cheap. . mr. addison's _treatise on the same_. this (which should properly have been first noticed) is a beautiful and masterly dissertation, and worthy of the celebrity of its pious and elegant author. . grotius _on the truth of the christian religion_. every enlightened mother will derive great pleasure and benefit from the perusal of this incomparable treatise. it has been translated by john clark, and lately by the rev. mr. madan, from the latin of the famous grotius. students in divinity are usually examined in the original when they present themselves for holy orders. . bishop prettyman's _elements of christian theology_. this is a work of deserved repute, and will be found greatly instructive. the historical events of scripture are detailed in an interesting manner, and cannot fail to afford the most pleasing conviction of the truth of what is related. there has been an abridgment of it in one large vo. volume, by the rev. mr. clapham. the original is in vols. vo. . secker (archbishop) _on the catechism_: and wilson (bishop) _on the sacrament_. these are truly excellent treatises: their established celebrity renders no further recital of them necessary in this place. . sermons: by _dr. s. clarke_; _abp. secker_, _sherlock_, _jortin_, _balguy_, _porteus_, (bishop of london), _blair_, and _carr_.[ ] these among many other excellent ones, whose enumeration would swell the list to an unnecessary size, may be perused and meditated on with great advantage. they are not selected in rejection of others, but solely as containing much sound and edifying matter, which may bring forth "sixty and an hundred fold." [ ] miss boudler has published a small volume of useful sermons to a country congregation, which it may be advisable to procure. her name is not prefixed to the work; but it is published by _cadell_ and _davies_, in the strand. . wilson's (bishop) _bible, with commentaries_: in vols. to. bath: printed by crutwell. perhaps, the most judicious and unexceptionable illustration of the sacred text extant. . gisborne's _duties of women_, and _familiar survey of the christian religion_, are both very excellent performances, and reflect great credit on the head and heart of the distinguished and benevolent writer. . _the whole duty of man._ . _the ladies' calling._ these two last works are from the same anonymous author, whose publications are, indeed, purer than gold--"yea, than much fine gold." such are the works recommended to the perusal and meditation of serious and enlightened parents: and such, it is hoped, will not bring forth "bitter fruits." there are moments of languor and heaviness, of dulness and despondency, to which the best of mothers may be exposed, and which may be removed, or relieved, by a perusal of some of the foregoing writers: in such moments, she will know the full value of their works, and will not repent the trouble or expence incurred in the procuring of them. she will then be convinced that the common productions, which amuse the ignorant and the foolish, could not have supplied the want of them; whether in soothing the pangs which arise from a deceased husband or child, or in teaching her to bear up with fortitude against the frowns of a persecuting world. the balm of consolation, which arises from these studies, she will pour into the bosom of a dutiful daughter; and the knowledge that she has gained by experience, will be imparted to, and grow up with, her rising posterity. let it always be impressed on our minds, that if we are so anxious to procure costly furniture, or splendid apparel, which the moth eats, or the thief steals, how much more is it our duty to devote a comparatively trifling sum towards the acquisition of those mental treasures, of which neither treachery nor violence can dispossess us, and which fit us, by degrees, for the eternal mansions of happiness and rest. it has been observed, that the female sex is more liable to fanaticism than the male; the history, however, of religious sectaries, does not authorise this observation: instances of violence and mad persecution may be adduced, in which females have taken a very subordinate part, or indeed none at all; and while the examples of athanasius and arius are fresh in the memory, we need not resort to another. that the warmth and susceptibility of a female mind renders it exposed to strong impressions, before the judgment begins to operate, cannot be disputed. what pleases on the first impression is not easily eradicated; and we conclude that to be true, which flatters some previous opinion, or favour some secret bias. error, thus introduced, is not extirpated without difficulty: and if to the pliancy and sensibility of a female mind, we add, that opportunities are seldom offered of going into deep critical investigations, or listening to opposite opinions, which are founded on reason and experience, it will not appear surprising that women are sometimes warm in their religious sentiments, and slow and reluctant to abandon them. hence follows the necessity of a _proper religious instruction_--of an adherence to those doctrines and opinions, which, on a careful survey of the many that have agitated mankind, seem to be the best calculated for ensuring our present and future welfare. in thus offering advice on so important a subject, the translator has ventured to advance certain sentiments, and to recommend certain works, which in his humble apprehension, appeared likely to be productive of some assistance and advantage. when he recommends a conformity to the tenets of the established church of this country, he does so from a conscientious conviction of its purity and excellence; from a recollection of the many great and good men who have lived and died in its cause; and whose works remain a glorious monument of their diligence, piety, and learning. while reason, integrity, and virtue, have any influence on the human character, while practical good is acknowledged to be superior to plausible theory, so long shall the luminous and illustrious divines of the english church rise above all the pretensions of fanatical and self-inspired teachers, who turn the word of god into craft, and use the name of jesus with their lips, while their hearts are estranged from him. that the foregoing sentiments may tend to promote true sober-minded religion--to adorn the female character with those charms which arise from the substance, and not the form, of piety--to excite cheerfulness without levity--seriousness without despondency--and happiness in this present state without groundless anxieties of the future--is the earnest and ardent wish of their author. chap. ix. _remarks on ordinary defects among girls._ we are now to speak of the care and attention which are requisite to preserve girls from many defects to which they are too commonly addicted. they are oftentimes brought up in so effeminate and timid a manner, as to be rendered incapable of a firm and regular conduct. at first there is much affectation, which afterwards become habitual, in those ill-founded fears, and in those tears, which are so cheaply and plentifully bestowed. a contempt of such affectations would operate greatly in correcting them; as they are in a considerable degree the offspring of vanity. they should also be repressed in the indulgence of too violent friendships, little jealousies, excessive compliments, and flatteries: all these things spoil them, and accustom them to imagine that dryness and austerity belongs to every thing which is serious and grave. we should strive to effect this, so that their common mode of parlance be short and precise. a good understanding consists in retrenching all superfluous discourse, and in saying much in few words: whereas, the greater part of women say little in many words. they mistake facility of utterance and vivacity of imagination for good sense: they make no selection of their thoughts: they observe no order in regard to the things they have to explain: they are passionate in every thing they utter, and passion produces loquacity. nothing very excellent can be expected of a woman, if she is not obliged to reflect on consequences, to examine her thoughts, to explain them in a precise manner, and afterwards to be silent. another circumstance which greatly contributes to the loquacity of women, is, that they are naturally artificial, and use a _roundabout_ manner to arrive at the proper end. they are fond of _finesse_: and how is it possible they should be otherwise, when they are ignorant of a more prudent method--and when it is usually the first thing which example has taught them? they have a soft and ductile nature which enables them easily to play a part in every thing: tears cost them nothing: their passions are lively, and their knowledge limited: hence it is that they neglect nothing to come off successful--and that they admire certain methods, which to a serious and prudent woman would appear very exceptionable: they seldom stop to enquire whether such a thing is desirable, but are anxious and indefatigable only in obtaining it. add to this, they are timid and full of what is called "_mauvais honte_;" which is another source of dissimulation. the method of preventing so great an evil, never to put them under a necessity of finessing, but accustom them to declare ingenuously their sentiments upon every lawful topic. let them be at liberty to express their _ennui_ whenever they feel it: and let them never be subjected to feign an admiration of certain persons or certain books, which in reality displease them. sometimes a mother is prejudiced against a governess, and undertakes the management of the child herself, while the daughter cunningly acts contrary to her taste. when children are so wretched that they are under the necessity of disguising their sentiments, the way of extricating them from such a dilemma, is, to instruct them solidly in the maxims of true prudence--as one perceives that the method of correcting a taste for novels and romances, is, by exciting a turn for useful and agreeable histories. if you do not encourage a rational curiosity, they will entertain an irrational one--in like manner, if you do not form their minds on the principles of true prudence, they will become attached to falsehood, which is, in fact, _finesse_. shew them, by examples, how one is able, without duplicity, to be discreet, foresighted, and attached to _legitimate_ means of succeeding. tell them that prudence consists chiefly in speaking little--in entertaining a greater distrust of oneself than of others, and not in uttering false sentiments, and playing a deceitful part. an upright conduct, and a general reputation for integrity, begets more confidence and esteem, and, in the end, even more temporal advantages, than perverse and suspicious habits. how much does this judicious rectitude of conduct distinguish a person, and render her fit for the most important undertakings! but add, how base and contemptible is _premeditated finesse_! it is either an account of some trifle which one is ashamed to mention, or it must be considered as a pernicious passion. when one wishes for that which it is lawful to wish for, the request is made openly--and it is sought for in a direct and proper method, with moderation. what is there more delightful and agreeable, than to be sincere? always tranquil--always content--having nothing to fear or to feign? on the contrary, a dissimulating character is always in agitation--remorse--and danger--and under the deplorable necessity of covering _one finesse_ by substituting an _hundred others_. with all these shameful disquietudes, artificial characters never escape that misery from which they are constantly flying--sooner or later their _real_ character will appear. if the world has been their dupe in some single action, it will not continue so during the whole of their lives: oftentimes they are the dupes of those whom they wished to deceive: for there is sometimes an appearance of being dazzled by them, and they think themselves beloved--at the very moment, perhaps, when they are despised. at least they cannot prevent suspicion--and can any thing be more contrary to the rational interests of a prudent woman, than to see herself always suspected? unfold these things by degrees--according as opportunity, necessity, or the bent of your pupil's intellect, may suggest. observe, however, that cunning (or _finesse_) is always the offspring of a base heart and narrow-minded spirit. in proportion as we wish to conceal our views we become cunning--being convinced that we are not as we ought to be--or, that, seeking for lawful objects, we adopt unworthy means of obtaining them--which arises from our ignorance in seeking such objects. make children remark the impertinence of certain artifices that they see practised--the contempt which it draws on those practising them--and lastly, make them ashamed of themselves when you detect them in some dissimulation. as they grow up, deprive them of what they love, when they wish to obtain it by _artifice_--but declare, that they shall possess it when they ask _openly_: do not be afraid even of indulging their little weaknesses, in order to give them an opportunity and the courage of shewing them. false shame is the most dangerous of evils and the most difficult to cure; and this too, if great care be not taken, will render all others irremediable. paint, in their proper colours, those infamous artifices by which they would wish to deceive their neighbour without having the reproach of deceiving him: there is more perfidy and knavery in these refinements, than in common artifices. some people, one may say, boldly practice deception--but wretches of the preceding description, add novelty and disguise to authorise it. tell a child that god _is truth itself_--that it is mocking _him_ when we jest at truth in our discourse--which should be precise and correct, and should consist in few words, that truth be not violated. be on your guard not to imitate those who applaud children, when they have discovered sharpness of intellect by some _finesse_. far from supposing these tricks pretty and diverting, check them severely--and manage it so, that all their artifice may end unsuccessfully, and experience at last may disgust them with it. in praising them for such and such faults, we, in fact, persuade them that _ability_ and _deception_ are one and the same thing. chap. x. _the vanity of beauty and dress._ nothing is more to be dreaded among young girls, than _vanity_--as they are born with a violent desire to please. those roads which conduct _men_ to authority and fame being shut to _them_; they strive to be recompensed by the charms of intellect and person: hence flows their conversation so soft and so insinuating--hence it is that they aspire, as well to beauty, as to all the exterior graces, and become passionately fond of dress. a turban or bandeau is of the greatest importance in their estimation. this excess is carried farther in our country[ ] than in any other. that volatile disposition so remarkable among us, causes a continual variety of fashions: so that, to the love of dress is added the love of novelty, which has strange charms for some people. these two follies united, reverses all orders and conditions, and corrupts all manners. as soon as _certain rules_ are done away in respect to our clothes and furniture, the same irregularity prevails in our conditions. public authority cannot settle a "table of particulars:"[ ] every one, therefore, chooses according to his money; or rather, without money, according to his ambition and vanity. [ ] france. [ ] this is construed in the above manner in preference to "the table of particular persons:" conceiving that fenelon means "certain rules or laws" to be observed in regard to _living_ and _dressing_. _t._ this passion for splendor ruins families; and the ruin of families brings with it a corruption of manners. on the one hand, it begets, in persons of mean extraction, a passion for a large fortune (which religion assures us is sinful); on the other, among people of quality who find their resources exhausted, it produces mean and dirty practices in order to support their extravagance: hence, honor, fidelity, integrity, and benevolence, (even towards their nearest relatives,) are extinguished for ever! these evils arise from the influence of vain women in directing the fashions; they ridicule those, as antiquated dames, who wish to preserve the gravity and simplicity of ancient manners. be particularly zealous, therefore, to make girls understand how much more estimable is that honor which flows from an upright conduct and sound capacity, than that which arises from the elegance and splendor of dress. beauty, you may say, deceives the possessor of it much more than it does those whom it dazzles: it agitates and intoxicates the soul; we are more foolishly idolising ourselves, than the most passionate lovers the object of their affection. a few years only make the difference between a beautiful and ordinary woman. beauty is not desirable unless it produces advantageous marriages: and how should it effect this, unsupported by merit and virtue? a girl, merely beautiful, can only hope to be united to a giddy young man, with whom she is pretty certain of misery: on the contrary, her good sense and modesty would cause her to be sought for by prudent men, sensible of such solid qualifications. those whose fame consists only in their beauty, soon become ridiculous: they approach, without perceiving it, to a certain age in which their charms begin to fade; still, however, indulging the dear delusion of self-gratification, when the world has long ago been disgusted with their vanity. in short, it is as unreasonable to be attached _solely to beauty_, as to concentrate all merit in strength of body; a maxim, which barbarians and savages only inculcate. from beauty let us pass to dress. true grace does not depend on a vain and affected exterior; although propriety, and some little skill may be shewn in our necessary clothing. but after all, these silks or satins, which may be pretty enough, can never be considered as ornaments which _confer_ beauty. i would even make young girls remark that noble simplicity which appears in the drapery of _statues_, and in many figures which yet remain of grecian and roman _costume_. they should contemplate the superiority of hair negligently tied behind, and of the broad folds of a full and floating drapery. it would also be as well for them to hear painters and connoisseurs, who possess a true taste for the antique, converse on these subjects. in proportion as their understanding rose superior to the prejudices of fashion, they would hold in contempt those artificial modes of twisting and curling the hair, and all the paraphernalia of a fashionable woman. i am aware that one should not wish them to assume an entirely-antique costume of dress, which would be extravagant, and sometimes indecent: but they might, without the affectation of singularity, model their taste on that simplicity of attire, which is so noble, so delightful, and in all respects conformable to the manners of christians. make them observe often, and by times, the vanity and, frivolousness of that mind which is sacrificed to the inconstancy of fashion.[ ] true grace follows, but never does violence to, nature. [ ] a preceding and subsequent sentence in the original is here omitted; because it has an allusion to antiquated _high head dresses_; which are now, i believe, banished not only from france, but from europe. the present simple and unaffected mode of female dress, (with some ridiculous and indelicate exceptions) is in general very conformable to the taste and advice of fenelon. fashion, however, soon destroys itself: it is perpetually aiming at perfection, and never finds it; at least, it never stops when it _has_ found it. it would be reasonable enough if all changing and alteration were to cease after having found perfection, comprising both elegance and utility: but to change for the sake of changing, appears very much like sacrificing true politeness and good taste to inconstancy and confusion! fashions are frequently founded on mere caprice. women are the sole arbitrators of them; and it being difficult to say, who is to be believed or imitated, the most giddy and least informed seduce and influence the rest. they neither choose nor leave any thing according to rule: it is quite sufficient if one thing, though useful, has been long adopted: it ought to be discarded: and another thing, though perfectly ridiculous, but having the charm of novelty, is immediately substituted in its place, and becomes the admiration of all. after having laid a proper foundation, describe to them the rules of _christian modesty_. we learn, you will say, that man is born in the corruption of sin: his body, exposed to a contagious malady, is an inexhaustible source of temptation to his soul. our saviour has taught us to place all our virtue in fear and distrust of ourselves. would you, we may exclaim, hazard your own soul and that of your neighbour by the indulgence of a foolish vanity? look, therefore, with horror upon the exposure of the bosom and all other indecencies! when these absurdities are even committed without any premeditated passion, they, at least, savour strongly of vanity, and betray an unbridled desire to please. does this variety justify, before god and man, so rash and scandalous a conduct, and so likely to be imitated by others? this blind passion of pleasing, is it conformable to a christian character, which should consider every thing as idolatrous, that perverts the love of god, and kindles the contempt of his creatures? when such giddy female characters strive to please--what is their real object? is it not to excite the passions of men? and can they regulate these passions when in their possession? if women go too far, ought they not to be answerable for the consequences? and do they not always go too far, when their minds have been but little enlightened? you are absolutely preparing a subtile and deadly poison, and pouring it on the spectators beneath, and yet you imagine yourself _innocent_! when you address your pupils in this strong manner, add to it, the example of those whom modesty has recommended, and those whom indelicacy has covered with dishonor. above every thing, never suffer children's minds to be filled with ideas that suit not with their condition. repress severely all their whims and fantasies--shew them the inevitable danger which follows--and how much they make themselves despised by wise and discreet people, in thus assuming a character which does not belong to them. what now remains to be effected, is, the managing of children of high and animated spirit. if care be not taken of this, when they have any vivacity, they intrigue: they wish to speak on every topic: they decide on works the least calculated for their capacity, and affect, through extreme delicacy, to be easily fatigued and overpowered. a girl should never speak but when necessity prompts: and then, with an air of deference and doubt: they should never even discuss subjects above the level of a common understanding, how well soever versed in them. let a child possess a good memory and vivacity--shew pleasant little turns, and a facility of _graceful_ eloquence--all these qualifications she may have in common with a great number of other stupid and contemptible women. but an exact and uniform conduct--an equal and regulated spirit--when to be silent, and when to speak--these rare qualifications will indeed distinguish her among her sex. as to squeamish delicacy and affectation of _ennui_, she must be repressed in both--by shewing her that a correct taste and good understanding consist in accommodating oneself to every thing in proportion to its utility. good sense and virtue are alone estimable. these will teach her to consider disgust and _ennui_, not as a commendable delicacy, but as the weakness of a diseased mind. since one must sometimes associate with gross characters, and mingle in occupations not altogether congenial--reason, which is the only real delicacy to be indulged, should instruct us to accommodate ourselves according to every emergency. an understanding which knows in what true politeness consists, and practises it, but which aspires to objects beyond it, in the hope of enjoying more solid attainments--is infinitely superior to delicate and merely polite characters, who are subject to be disgusted by their own nicety and refined taste. chap. xi. _instruction of women in their duties._ let us now discuss, in detail, those particulars of which it is the duty of a woman to be well informed. what are her employments? she is charged with the education of her children--of the boys, till a certain age--of the girls till they are married; of the conduct, manners, and morals of her domestic attendants; of the whole detail of household expenses; of the means of managing every thing with credit and economy; and sometimes, of the regulation of farms and the receipt of profits which arise from them. women, as well as men, should adapt their pursuits in literature and science to their situations and functions in life; and according to their occupations, should be their studies. we must, therefore, confine the instruction of women to the foregoing circumstances. but a curious woman, wishing to pry into every thing, may fancy that these instructions will confine her curiosity within narrow limits indeed--she is mistaken, because she knows not the importance and extent of the particulars in which i wish her to be instructed. what discernment is necessary to know the disposition and genius of each of her children! to find out the proper mode of conduct so as to discover their humours, inclinations, and talents! to check those passions which are born with them, to inculcate good maxims, and to cure them of their errors! what prudence should she possess, to acquire and preserve authority over them, without forfeiting their confidence and esteem! has she not also need of observing and thoroughly knowing those people whom she places near them? undoubtedly she has: a mother of a family ought to be completely instructed in religion, and to possess a mature firm mind, adapted to, and experienced in, the government of her children. can it be supposed that women ought _not_ to be explicitly and _formally instructed_ in these duties, because they naturally fall into them during the lives of their husbands, who are generally engaged in business from home? or, if widows, they still attend to them more closely? st. paul generally attaches the salvation of mothers to the good education of daughters; for by these, he assures them, they will be saved. i do not here take upon me to explain all that a woman ought to know for the education of her daughters; because such a memorial would make them sufficiently feel the extent of that knowledge which it is their duty to obtain. to the government of families, add economy. the greater part of women neglect it as a mean consideration, fit only for country folks or farmers; or, at best, for innkeepers and housekeepers. women nursed in the lap of affluence, luxury, and idleness, not only neglect, but despise, this domestic virtue; and seem to be forgetful of a middle state between the rusticity of a peasant, and the wildness of a canadian savage. if you speak to them of the sale of corn, of the cultivation of lands, of the different kinds of revenue, of the receipt or raising of rents and other seignoral rights, of the best method of laying out farms, and appointing receivers, they imagine that you wish to reduce them to occupations, unworthy of their rank and character. ignorance is the offspring of their contempt for economy. the ancient greeks and romans, so distinguished for their ability and politeness, studied economy with the utmost care: some of their finest writers, from their own experience, have composed works which we still possess, and in which they give an account of the latest improvements of agriculture. it is well known that even their conquerors did not disdain to work in the field; and instances have come down to us in which the splendor of a triumph was followed by the care and conduct of a plough. all this is so foreign to our own customs and manners, that we should not credit it if it were not supported by historical truth. but is it not natural that the defence or augmentation of a country should be subordinate to the ultimate object of cultivating it peaceably? of what advantage is victory, if it enable us not to gather the fruits of peace? after all, solidity of intellect consists in wishing to be exactly informed of the way in which those things operate, which constitute the foundations of human life: the greatest occurrences are regulated by this principle. the strength and felicity of a country consists not in the possession of provinces badly cultivated, but in the enjoyment of those productions of the earth which are necessary and sufficient for the sustenance of a numerous people. without doubt it requires a more elevated and comprehensive genius to be instructed and well informed in all the particulars relating to economy, and to be thereby able to regulate an entire family (which is a little republic), than to play, talk of the fashions, and be expert in all the little polite arts of conversation. that is a contemptible mind indeed, which aspires not beyond perfection in the talent of conversation: one sees, on all sides, women whose discourse is full of sound sense and solid maxims--while this conduct is replete with frivolousness and absurdity--the effect of not applying by times to better pursuits. but take care of the opposite defect: women run a risk of being in extremes in every thing. it would be advisable for them, from their infancy, to have the management of some trifling affair--to keep accounts--to see the mode of bargaining for what they purchase, and to know how each thing should be made to answer a good use. take care, also, that economy borders not on avarice: shew them, in detail, all the absurdities attendant on this latter passion. tell them that "avarice gains little, and dishonors itself greatly." a reasonable mind will seek, in a frugal and laborious life, only how to avoid the shame and injustice attached to a prodigal and ruinous conduct. superfluous expenses are to be retrenched as they enable a person to devote a portion of money to satisfy the claims of benevolence, friendship, and charity: great gain is frequently the result of seasonable forbearance: good order and management, and not sordid savings, are the source of profit. do not fail to expose the gross error of those female economists who pertinaceously forbid a mold candle, while they suffer their whole affairs to be subjected to the knavery or rapacity of a steward. respect propriety as well as economy. accustom young people to do nothing in a slovenly and disorderly manner, and to remark the least disarrangement in a house. make them also sensible that nothing so much contributes to propriety and economy, as the keeping of every thing in its proper place. this rule appears too trifling to mention; nevertheless it goes a great way if it be rigidly observed. for instance--are you in want of any thing? not a moment is lost in finding it--there is neither trouble, disputation, nor embarrassment attending its search: you put your hand immediately upon it, and when satisfied, replace it in the situation where you found it. this _nice order_ constitutes one of the essential parts of propriety; and every eye is struck with the neat appearance of so exact an arrangement. moreover, a particular place allotted to each article, not only has a pleasing appearance, but, in reality, tends to the preservation of that article. it is _used_ less than it otherwise would be--it is not so frequently spoilt by accident--it is even more respected and treasured: for example, a vase would never be covered with dust, or become liable to be broken, if it were instantly put away after being done with. a passion for arranging things orderly, produces a love of neatness; and this will appear very advantageous, if it be considered that by such means servants are never encouraged in idleness and confusion. again, something is gained by making their service prompt and easy, and depriving us of an opportunity of becoming impatient and impetuous, which is generally the case when things cannot be found from confusion and irregularity. at the same time, avoid the excess of politeness and propriety. when propriety is within moderation, it is a virtue; but when we consult too much our own tastes and fancies, it is converted into a littleness of mind. good taste rejects excessive delicacy: it treats little matters _as_ little ones, and is not hurt at any unpleasant consequences resulting therefrom. ridicule, before children, those knick-knacks and gewgaws, of which some women are prodigiously fond, and which lead them insensibly into unwarrantable expenses. accustom young people to a propriety and decorum which is simple and easy of practice--shew them the best way of managing things--but shew them also the advantage of slighting them. tell them how paltry and contemptible it is to grumble if a dish be badly seasoned, if a curtain be unevenly folded, or a chair be too high or too low. it is undoubtedly better to be naturally coarse, than to have an overweening delicacy in matters of little moment. this pernicious delicacy, if not repressed in women of understanding, is more dangerous as it regards conversation than every thing else: to females of this stamp, the greater part of mankind appears insipid or fatiguing: the least deviation from politeness is monstrous: and they are always ridiculing and disgusted. make such women know betimes that nothing is so injudicious as judging superficially of people by their manners, instead of examining the very bottom of their intellect, their sentiments and useful qualities. convince them, by a variety of proofs, how much a country woman, with a coarse or even ridiculous manner, but with a good heart and sound understanding, is more estimable than a courtisan, who, under an acquired politeness, hides an ungrateful and unjust heart, capable of every meanness and dissimulation. observe also, that those characters are always weak which incline to idleness and disgust. there is no one whose conversation is so bad, as that some good may not, occasionally, be drawn from it; and although a person at liberty would prefer choosing the best characters to converse with, yet there is some consolation, when reduced to converse with inferior characters, that we may make them talk on subjects that they understand, from which, perhaps, some information may be gained. but let us now return to those particulars in which a girl should be instructed. chap. xii. _continuation of the duties of women._ to the duties previously enumerated, may be added the art of _choosing and retaining servants_. we should employ such as have honor and religion: their offices should be distinctly ascertained: the time and trouble which each thing requires, the manner of doing it well, and the expense attending it, should also be considered. it would be absurd (for instance) to find fault with a servant if you wished her to dress any thing quicker than it could be dressed; and if you have not some knowledge of the quantity and price of the ingredients which compose dishes, you will be liable to become the dupe or the scourge of your domestics; so that a knowledge of these matters is essential to a mistress of a family. it is also necessary to know their humours, to manage their tempers, and to regulate in a christian-like manner this little household republic, which is, in general, sufficiently turbulent. authority, is absolutely essential in this respect; for the more unreasonable servants are, the more they should be made obedient by fear: but as they are your brethren in christ, and members of his kingdom, a rigid authority should never be exercised towards them, unless previous persuasion is found to fail. strive, therefore, to be beloved by your servants, without descending to low familiarity; enter not into conversation with them, but at the same time do not be backward in occasionally speaking, with kindness and affability, respecting their wants and concerns; and let them be assured of finding in you a compassionate counsellor. do not check them too eagerly in their faults--appear neither surprised nor dissatisfied, provided you think them not incorrigible: let them gently hear reason; and submit frequently to little losses by their service, that you may be able coolly to convince them, that it is not from impetuosity and chagrin that you correct them, but rather for their own, than your, interest. it would be no easy task to accustom _young women of fashion_ to adopt a conduct, at once so amiable and benevolent. the impatience and ardor of youth, united with the false idea they are apt to entertain of their birth, often induce them to treat their domestics pretty nearly the same as they do their horses--they imagine that servants are any thing but what they really are--and made solely for the convenience of their masters. endeavour to shew how revolting these principles are to modesty in yourself, and to humanity towards your neighbour. let it be comprehended that men are not born to be slaves--that it is a brutal error to suppose our fellow mortals are created to flatter our laziness and pride; that servitude being established against the natural equality of mankind, we should endeavour to soften it as much as possible; that masters themselves, though above their servants in situation, are not free from errors, and therefore should not expect an exemption from them in domestics; especially as they have not had the benefit of instruction and good example--and lastly, if servants become good for nothing by serving ill, masters also, frequently, become so, by being served well: for a facility of accommodation in every wish, and an immediate gratification in every desire, only softens and effeminates the soul, and renders it peevish and irritable under every trifling inconvenience. nothing is so well calculated to effect this domestic government, as the being _early_ initiated in it. give a young woman something to manage herself, on condition of her rendering you some account of it: this confidence will delight her, for youth is highly pleased when it is thought worthy of confidence, and capable of doing serious business. the example of queen margaret is a fine illustration of this. that princess informs us, in her memoirs, that the most sensible pleasure she ever experienced, was in seeing the queen, her mother, begin to converse with her, when she was very young, as with a person of years and maturity--she felt transported with joy on entering into the secrets of state with the queen and her brother the duke of anjou, reflecting that, not long ago, she had been immersed in the pastimes of children. overlook the faults of a child in her first attempts at these things, and sacrifice something in order that she may ultimately gain instruction. make her sensible, in a mild manner, of what she should have said or done, to avoid the inconveniencies into which she has been betrayed. relate to her what has happened to yourself, and be not anxious to suppress faults, similar to her own, which you committed when young. thus will you inspire her with confidence; without which, all education is but a formal wearisome task. teach a girl to read and write correctly. it is a shameful thing, but too common, to see women of understanding and good breeding, who cannot accurately pronounce what they read: either they stammer, or have a sort of singing or whine in their reading--whereas good reading consists in a simple and natural, but firm and even, tone of voice. they are, moreover, sometimes grossly deficient in orthography; either as to the manner of forming, or connecting, their letters when writing: at any rate they should be taught to write straight, and in a character neat and legible. a girl should know the grammar of her own language; not, however, that she is to be taught by rule, as schoolboys are taught the latin language--but that she be used to distinguish the different tenses, in an obvious and easy manner; to make use of proper terms; and to explain their thoughts, in a way, at once clear and concise. by these means you will enable her one day to teach her own children to speak accurately without previous study. it is well known that in ancient rome, the mother of the gracchi contributed greatly, by a sound education, to improve the language of her children, who became afterwards such eminent characters. females should also be instructed in the first four rules of arithmetic; namely, in addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division; which will be of essential use to them in keeping accounts. this, though a very important, is a very disagreeable, occupation with many people; but early habits, joined to a facility of quick reckoning, by the help of rules, will overcome every antipathy, and enable us to arrange the most perplexed accounts. no one can be ignorant that a correct method of keeping them is often productive of good order throughout an establishment. it will be prudent also to give them a knowledge of the principal rules of justice: for example, of the difference between a gift and a thing bequeathed; between a contract, an entail, and a copartnership of inheritance; the general rules of law, or the particular customs of a country, which render these things valid; what is exclusive, and what is common, property; what goods are moveable, and what immoveable. when women marry, they will find a knowledge of these things of great importance to them. but, at the same time, convince them, how incapable they are of entering deeply into the subtilties of law: how much the law itself, by the weakness of human reason, is subject to obscurity, and doubtful rules: how it varies: how uncertain every thing is that depends upon judicial decision, clear and upright as it may seem: how ruinous and insupportable is the law's delay, even in the most obvious cases.[ ] [ ] i have here omitted two or three passages of the original, because they describe such incongruity and perniciousness in the law of france, as cannot be applicable to the modes observed in the british courts of judicature. _t._ all this is of importance for women to know, in order to abate their fondness for lawsuits, and to prevent their trusting implicitly to counsellors, who would dissuade them from peaceful measures. when they are widows, or mistresses of their estates in any other way, they may do well to hear their agents, but not blindly follow them. they should act with the utmost caution in any suits their agents may advise them to undertake; and consult men of greater ability, and such as are more inclined to recommend the advantages of compromise: in short they should be assured, that the best ability in law causes, is, to foresee the mischiefs of them, and to know how they may be avoided. young women of rank and large fortune should be acquainted with the duties more particularly attached to great estates: tell them therefore, what should be done, to prevent the abuses, violence, tricks and treacheries so common in the country; how they ought to establish little schools and charitable societies, for the relief of the sick and needy: shew them also the handicraft trades, that may be set on foot in certain countries, to help the poor; and above all, how they may be taught useful knowledge and christian conduct; this however will lead to a detail too long to be here discussed. [ ]these instructions having been attended to, i think it may not be improper to allow young women, according to their leisure and capacity, the perusal of profane or classical writers, provided there be nothing in them to inflame or mislead the passions: these will be a means also of giving them a distaste for plays and romances. put into their hands, therefore, the greek and roman historians; they will there see prodigies of courage and disinterestedness: let them be acquainted likewise with the history of their _own country_, which has its excellencies also, and with that of the neighbouring or foreign countries, judiciously written. all this will serve to enlarge their understandings, and to fill their hearts with noble sentiments, provided you guard against vanity and affectation. it is generally thought a necessary part of a good education, for a young lady of rank to be taught the italian and spanish languages: for my part i see no use in these acquirements, unless the lady is to be connected with some spanish or italian princess:[ ] besides these two languages often lead them to books that are dangerous, and which might increase the faults to which they are liable; there is much to lose, and little to be gained, by these studies. latin might be of some use; even in cultivating the elegancies of language, they will find the latin more perfect than the italian and spanish, which are full of quaint conceits, and a wantonness of imagination bordering on extravagance: latin however should be taught to young women of good judgment and discreet conduct only; who will set no greater value on this study than it deserves; who will renounce all vain curiosity, and have no other view than their own edification. [ ] another passage of the original is also here omitted; because it relates to the observance of certain feudal rites, and to a knowledge of real property, which can be of no service to a woman in this country. _t._ [ ] fenelon is certainly fastidious when he censures the acquirement of the italian language, which is one of the most soft and pleasing of any in modern europe. nor does it at all follow that a knowledge of the italian language should lead to a knowledge of improper books--the same argument may be applied to any other language. _t._ i would allow also, but with great care, the perusal of works of eloquence and poetry, if i saw they had a taste for them, and solidity of judgment enough to confine themselves to their real use: but fearful of agitating too much their lively imaginations, i would have the utmost caution observed in this respect: every thing that may awaken the sentiments of love, seems to me the more dangerous in proportion as it is softened and disguised. music and painting require the same precautions; all these arts are of the same taste and tendency: as to music, we know that the ancients thought nothing was more pernicious to a well regulated republic, than to admit an _effeminate melody_: it enervates men, unbending and sensualizing their minds: languishing and passionate tones please only, by subjecting the soul to the seducement of the senses, till it becomes intoxicated by them. it was on this account, that the magistrates of sparta broke all the instruments, the harmony of which was too delicate; and this was one of the most important parts of their policy. on the same account plato strictly forbids all the luxurious tones of the asiatic music; and christians, who ought never to pursue pleasure only for the sake of pleasure, are under much stronger obligations to guard themselves against these dangerous entertainments. poetry and music, _directed to their true end_, may be of excellent use to excite in the soul, lively and sublime sentiments of virtue. how many of the books of scripture of the poetical kind, according to all appearance were sung by the hebrews. songs were the first memorials which preserved more distinctly, the tradition of divine truths among men, before the invention of writing. we see how powerful music has been among the heathen nations, in elevating their minds above the sentiments of the vulgar: and the church has employed it,[ ] for the consolation of her children, in celebrating the praises of god. we ought not therefore to abandon these arts, which the spirit of god himself hath consecrated. [ ] an admirable sermon, "on the antiquity, use, and excellence, of church music," by bishop horne, may be seen among the sermons separately published by that amiable prelate, in vo. oxford, , d edit. _t._ music and poetry employed on sacred subjects, would have a powerful influence in destroying the relish for profane pleasures. but while our present prejudices prevail, these arts cannot be cultivated without danger. lose no time, therefore, in making a young woman who is strongly susceptible of these impressions, sensible of what charms may be found in music, even while it is confined to subjects of religion: if she has a good voice and a taste for music, never hope to keep her in ignorance of it; to forbid it will only increase her passion for it. it will be much better to give it a proper direction, than to endeavour to stifle it. painting is more easily convertible to good purposes; besides, it belongs in some degree to women; their needlework cannot properly be executed without it. i know they might be confined to employments that are simple and require no skill; but as i think we should contrive to employ the head and hands of women of condition at the same time, i could wish they had employments in which art and ingenuity might season their labours with some entertainment. their work cannot have any real beauty, unless it be conducted by a knowledge of the rules of drawing; for want of which, what one sees in stuffs, lace, and embroidery, is done in an ill taste; all is confused; without design, without proportion.[ ] these things are reckoned fine, because they cost a great deal of labour to those who work them, and a great deal of money to those who buy them. the lustre dazzles those who do not closely examine, or are not skilful in these matters. the women on this subject have made rules of their own, which if any man should contest, he would be thought capricious and absurd. however, they might correct themselves by an attention to painting, and so be able, at a moderate expense, and to their great entertainment, to execute works of a noble variety and beauty, which would bid defiance to the caprice and uncertainty of fashion. [ ] i do not think this applicable to the present system of fashion: women, in general display great taste in patterns, and great elegance in the adjustment of dress. _t._ there is nothing which women ought to guard more against, or despise, than _living in idleness_. let them consider that the first christians of whatever condition of life, all applied themselves to some employment, not as an amusement, but as a serious, useful, constant business. the order of nature, the penance imposed on the first man, and in him upon all his posterity, the great example which our saviour jesus christ, hath set before us in this respect, all concur to engage us, each in his station, to a life of labour. in the education of a young woman, her condition ought to be regarded, and the situation and cast of life she will probably move in. take care that her expectations do not exceed her fortune and rank; if they do, they will cost her many sorrows; what would have made her happy, will become disgusting to her, if she has cast a wishful eye on a superior condition. if a girl is to live in the country, turn her attention betimes to the occupations of the country; keep her a stranger to the amusements of the town: shew her the blessings of a simple active life. if her situation be among the middle ranks of the town, let her not come near the people of the court; this intercourse will only serve to give her unbecoming and ridiculous airs: confine her within the bounds of her own station, and point out to her good examples among those of the same rank: form her mind to what will be the business of her life: teach her the management of a tradesman's family: the care that ought to be taken of his income, whether from returns out of the country, or rents of houses in the town: what belongs to the education of her children; in short the whole detail of business or of commerce, into which you foresee she may probably be thrown, when she is married.[ ] [ ] what follows, in fenelon, relating to the religious establishments of women, and taking the veil, is not here inserted--as being wholly inapplicable to the laws and customs of england. chap. xiii. _of governesses._ i foresee that this plan of education, will pass with many for a chimerical project: it requires, they will say, an uncommon share of discernment, patience, and skill, to carry it into execution: where are the governesses capable of following, or even understanding it? but it should be considered that when we are laying down rules for the best education that can be given to children, we are not to give imperfect rules; it is not matter of reprehension then, that in such an enquiry, we aim at what is most perfect. it is true, we cannot go so far in practice as our thoughts go upon paper, where they meet with no obstruction; but after all, though we are absolutely unable to arrive at perfection in this business, it will be far from useless to know what perfection is, and to attempt it at any rate; which is the best means of approaching it as nearly as we can. besides, my rules do not proceed upon the supposition of any thing extraordinary in the disposition of children, or a concurrence of circumstances happily calculated for a perfect education; on the contrary i endeavour to apply remedies, to tempers naturally bad, or which have been spoilt: i calculate the common mistakes in education, and have recourse to the most simple methods of correcting, in the whole or in part, what has absolute need of correction. it is true, you will not find in this little work, the means of giving success to an education neglected or ill conducted; but is there any thing strange in this? is it not the most that one can wish, to obtain simple rules, by the observance of which, a good education may be acquired. i confess we may dispense, and do dispense generally, with much less than i propose; but it is likewise very obvious that children suffer materially by this neglect. the road i am pointing out, though tedious in appearance, is in reality the shortest, as it leads directly to the object we are in pursuit of. the other, which is that of _fear_ and of a _superficial culture of the understanding_, short as it may seem, is in reality long; as it hardly ever attains to the _only true end of education_, which is to form the mind, and inspire it with a sincere love of virtue. the greater part of those who have gone this latter road, have to commence their journey anew, at a moment when their education seems finished; and after having passed the first years of their entrance into the world, in committing errors which are often irreparable, they are forced to learn from experience, and their own reflections, those maxims, of which that wretched and superficial education had left them in ignorance. it should be observed moreover, that the first services demanded in behalf of children, and which inexperienced people regard as oppressive and impracticable, will preserve them from troubles much more grievous; and remove obstacles which become insurmountable, in the course of an education less accurate and skilful. lastly it should be noticed that in order to execute this plan of education, the business does not consist so much in doing any thing which requires great talents, as in avoiding the gross errors previously enumerated. there will be often nothing more wanting than to be calm and patient with children: to be watchful over them: to inspire them with confidence: to give plain and intelligible answers to their little questions: to let their natural dispositions work in order to know them the better: and to correct them with temper, when they are mistaken, or in fault. it is not reasonable to expect that a good education can be conducted by a bad governess; it is enough to deliver rules which will give success to one, moderately qualified: of such a person it is not expecting too much that she be possessed of good sense, a mild temper, and the fear of god; such a one will find nothing in this treatise subtile or abstracted, and if she should not understand the whole of it, she will comprehend the substance at least; and that will be sufficient. make her read it over many times, and be at the trouble of reading it with her; allow her the liberty of stopping you at any thing she does not understand, or of the truth of which she is not convinced; then let her put these instructions into practice, and if you should observe, that in talking to the child, she loses sight of the rules which she had agreed to follow, correct her privately in as mild a manner as possible. this application will be wearisome to you at first, but if you are the father or mother of the child, it is your _indispensable_ duty. besides, your difficulties will not be of long continuance: your governess, if she be sensible and well-disposed, will learn more of your method in a month by practice, than by long arguments; and she will soon be able to go on in the right way by herself. there will be this further circumstance to relieve you, that she will find in this little work, the principal topics of conversation, with children, upon the most important subjects already detailed for her; so that she will hardly have any thing to do but to follow them; thus she will possess a collection of the discourses she should hold with children, upon subjects the most difficult for them to understand; it is a kind of practical education which will be an easy guide to her. you may likewise make excellent use of the _historical catechism_ before-mentioned. let the person you are forming to educate your children read it over so often, that it may be familiar to herself, and that she may enter into the spirit of this method of teaching. it must be acknowledged, however, that persons of even moderate talents for such services, are rarely to be met with; and yet nothing is to be done in education, without a proper instrument for the business; the commonest things cannot be done of themselves, and they are always ill done by improper people.--choose therefore either out of your own family, or among your tenants, or friends, or from some well-ordered society, some young woman you think capable of being taught: apply yourself early to the forming of her for this employment: have her near you for some time, to make trial of her before you commit to her so important a trust. five or six governesses trained in this manner, would soon be able to instruct a great number of others; many of these would probably fail, but out of a great number, we might always repair the loss, and not be so wretchedly compelled, as we continually are, to be seeking for a variety of teachers. but though the difficulty of finding governesses is great; it must be confessed there is another yet greater, which is the _irregularity of parents_. all the rest will signify nothing, if _they_ do not co-operate in the business: the foundation of every thing is giving their children _right notions_ and _edifying examples_: and yet this is only to be found in very few families; in most, one sees nothing but confusion, perpetual changes, a heap of servants, who are not only quarreling with one another, but are the cause of disagreement among their masters and mistresses. what a woeful school is this for young children! the mother who passes her time in gaming, at plays, and in indiscreet conversations, very gravely complains that she cannot find a governess capable of bringing up her children; but what good can the best of educations confer on children, with the example of such a mother before them? one frequently sees parents who themselves carry their children to public diversions, and other amusements,[ ] which cannot fail of giving them a disrelish for that serious and orderly course of life, in which these very parents wish to engage them: thus they mix poison with wholesome diet: they talk indeed of nothing but discretion, but at the same time they are agitating the flighty imagination of their children, by the violent impressions of music, and of passionate theatrical representations, which indispose them for application, give them a taste for what is passionate, and thereby make them think _innocent_ pleasure _insipid_; and after all this still expect that the business of education shall go on well, and consider it as an irksome and austere thing, if it will not admit of _this mixture of good or evil_. thus are they fond of the reputation of being anxious for the good education of their children, and yet are unwilling to be at the pains of complying with the most indispensable rules of it. [ ] i recommend the sensible mother, who has really the happiness of her daughter at heart, to peruse and reperuse the excellent observations on this head, which are to be found in a little pamphlet, lately published by the rev. mr. owen; entitled "the fashionable world displayed." let us conclude with the picture which the wise man has drawn of a _virtuous woman_. "who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies. the heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil. she will do him good and not evil all the days of her life. she seeketh wool, and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands. she is like the merchant ships, she bringeth her food from afar. she riseth also while it is yet night, and giveth meat to her household, and a proportion to her maidens. she considereth a field, and buyeth it; with the fruit of her hands she planteth a vineyard. she girdeth her loins with strength, and strengtheneth her arms. she perceiveth that her merchandize is good: her candle goeth not out by night. she layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff. she stretcheth out her hand to the poor; yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy. she is not afraid of the snow for her household: for all her household are clothed with scarlet. she maketh herself coverings of tapestry, her clothing is silk and purple. her husband is known in the gates, when he sitteth among the elders of the land. she maketh fine linen, and selleth it, and delivereth girdles unto the merchant. strength and honour are her clothing, and she shall rejoice in time to come. she openeth her mouth with wisdom, and in her tongue is the law of kindness. she looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness. her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her. many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all. favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the lord, she shall be praised. give her of the fruit of her hands, and let her own works praise her in the gates." though the great difference in manners, and the brevity and boldness of the figures, make this language obscure at first, yet the stile is so rich and animated, that we are soon charmed with it on examination. but what should be further remarked in it, is, that it is the authority of solomon, the wisest of men; it is the holy spirit itself speaking in this lofty manner, to recommend to us, in the character of a woman of rank and fortune, simplicity of manners, domestic economy and industry. h. ruff, printer and publisher, cheltenham.-- . transcriber's note period spellings have generally been retained even when obsolete, though some obvious spelling errors were corrected (e.g., eateth replaced eatheth, pleased replaced peased, think replaced thing). occasional missing punctuation has been added. the original lacked a cover, so one has been supplied by the transcriber. transcriber's note: the following typographical errors have been corrected: page : "we bring ourselves, by its help, to face petty details that are wearisome, and heavy tasks that are almost appalling." 'appalling' amended from 'appaling'. page : "that which is truly, and deeply, and seriously an injury to our intellectual life, is the foolishness of the too common vanity." 'too' amended from 'two'. page : "the child had the defects of children, but of children born in the different countries where he lived." 'lived' amended from 'live'. page : "the girl was uneducated: it seems hopeless to try to educate the woman". 'educate' amended from 'educated'. page : "i am sure that my modern artillery captain, notwithstanding his bad manners." 'notwithstanding' amended from 'notwithstand'. page : "i know a distinguished englishman who is quite remarkable for the talent with which he arranges his intellectual friendships, so as never to be dependent on any one." 'intellectual' amended from 'inintellectual'. page : "the truth is, that to succeed well in fashionable society the higher intellectual attainments are not so useful as distinguished skill in those amusements which are the real business of the fashionable world." 'business of' amended from 'busiof'. page : "to me it appears the perfect type of that preoccupation about appearances which blinds the genteel vulgar to the true nobility of life." 'preoccupation' amended from 'pre-occupation'. page : "she moves; movement is the law of her life; yet she is as tranquil in her little cabin as any goodwife on shore." 'she' amended from 'see'. page : "i certainly think that if a good curé has an exceptional genius for sanctity." 'sanctity' amended from 'sancitity'. page (index): "dullness of general conversation." 'dullness' amended from 'dulness'. the intellectual life, by philip gilbert hamerton, author of "a painter's camp," "thoughts about art," "the unknown river," etc. new york hurst & company publishers to eugÈnie h. we have shared together many hours of study, and you have been willing, at the cost of much patient labor, to cheer the difficult paths of intellectual toil by the unfailing sweetness of your beloved companionship. it seems to me that all those things which we have learned together are doubly my own; whilst those other studies which i have pursued in solitude have never yielded me more than a maimed and imperfect satisfaction. the dream of my life would be to associate you with all i do if that were possible; but since the ideal can never be wholly realized, let me at least rejoice that we have been so little separated, and that the subtle influence of your finer taste and more delicate perception is ever, like some penetrating perfume, in the whole atmosphere around me. preface. i propose, in the following pages, to consider the possibilities of a satisfactory intellectual life under various conditions of ordinary human existence. it will form a part of my plan to take into account favorable and unfavorable influences of many kinds; and my chief purpose, so far as any effect upon others may be hoped for, will be to guard some who may read the book alike against the loss of time caused by unnecessary discouragement, and the waste of effort which is the consequence of misdirected energies. i have adopted the form of letters addressed to persons of very different position in order that every reader may have a chance of finding what concerns him. the letters, it is unnecessary to observe, are in one sense as fictitious as those we find in novels, for they have never been sent to anybody by the post, yet the persons to whom they are addressed are not imaginary. i made it a rule, from the beginning, to think of a real person when writing, from an apprehension that by dwelling in a world too exclusively ideal i might lose sight of many impediments which beset all actual lives, even the most exceptional and fortunate. the essence of the book may be expressed in a few sentences, the rest being little more than evidence or illustration. first, it appears that all who are born with considerable intellectual faculties are urged towards the intellectual life by irresistible instincts, as water-fowl are urged to an aquatic life; but the lower animals have this advantage over man, that as their purposes are simpler, so they attain them more completely than he does. the life of a wild duck is in perfect accordance with its instincts, but the life of an intellectual man is never on all points perfectly in accordance with _his_ instincts. many of the best intellectual lives known to us have been hampered by vexatious impediments of the most various and complicated kinds; and when we come to have accurate and intimate knowledge of the lives led by our intellectual contemporaries, we are always quite sure to find that each of them has some great thwarting difficulty to contend against. nor is it too much to say that if a man were so placed and endowed in every way that all his work should be made as easy as the ignorant imagine it to be, that man would find in that very facility itself a condition most unfavorable to his intellectual growth. so that, however circumstances may help us or hinder us, the intellectual life is always a contest or a discipline, and the art or skill of living intellectually does not so much consist in surrounding ourselves with what is reputed to be advantageous as in compelling every circumstance and condition of our lives to yield us some tribute of intellectual benefit and force. the needs of the intellect are as various as intellects themselves are various: and if a man has got high mental culture during his passage through life it is of little consequence where he acquired it, or how. the school of the intellectual man is the place where he happens to be, and his teachers are the people, books, animals, plants, stones, and earth round about him. the feeling almost always predominant in the minds of intellectual men as they grow older, is not so much one of regret that their opportunities were not more abundant, as of regret that they so often missed opportunities which they might have turned to better account. i have written for all classes, in the conviction that the intellectual life is really within the reach of every one who earnestly desires it. the highest culture can never be within the reach of those who cannot give the years of labor which it costs; and if we cultivate ourselves to shine in the eyes of others, to become famous in literature or science, then of course we must give many more hours of labor than can be spared from a life of practical industry. but i am fully convinced of this, convinced by the observation of living instances in all classes, that any man or woman of large natural capacity may reach the tone of thinking which may justly be called intellectual, even though that thinking may not be expressed in the most perfect language. the essence of intellectual living does not reside in extent of science or in perfection of expression, but in a constant preference for higher thoughts over lower thoughts, and this preference may be the habit of a mind which has not any very considerable amount of information. this may be very easily demonstrated by a reference to men who lived intellectually in ages when science had scarcely begun to exist, and when there was but little literature that could be of use as an aid to culture. the humblest subscriber to a mechanics' institute has easier access to sound learning than had either solomon or aristotle, yet both solomon and aristotle lived the intellectual life. whoever reads english is richer in the aids to culture than plato was, yet plato _thought_ intellectually. it is not erudition that makes the intellectual man, but a sort of virtue which delights in vigorous and beautiful thinking, just as moral virtue delights in vigorous and beautiful conduct. intellectual living is not so much an accomplishment as a state or condition of the mind in which it seeks earnestly for the highest and purest truth. it is the continual exercise of a firmly noble choice between the larger truth and the lesser, between that which is perfectly just and that which falls a little short of justice. the ideal life would be to choose thus firmly and delicately always, yet if we often blunder and fail for want of perfect wisdom and clear light, have we not the inward assurance that our aspiration has not been all in vain, that it has brought us a little nearer to the supreme intellect whose effulgence draws us whilst it dazzles? here is the true secret of that fascination which belongs to intellectual pursuits, that they reveal to us a little more, and yet a little more, of the eternal order of the universe, establishing us so firmly in what is known, that we acquire an unshakable confidence in the laws which govern what is not, and never can be, known. contents. part i. the physical basis. letter page i. to a young man of letters who worked excessively ii. to the same iii. to a student in uncertain health iv. to a muscular christian v. to a student who neglected bodily exercise vi. to an author in mortal disease vii. to a young man of brilliant ability, who had just taken his degree part ii. the moral basis. i. to a moralist who had said that there was a want of moral fibre in the intellectual, especially in poets and artists ii. to an undisciplined writer iii. to a friend who suggested the speculation "which of the moral virtues was most essential to the intellectual life" iv. to a moralist who said that intellectual culture was not conducive to sexual morality part iii. of education. i. to a friend who recommended the author to learn this thing and that ii. to a friend who studied many things iii. to the same iv. to a student of literature v. to a country gentleman who regretted that his son had the tendencies of a dilettant vi. to the principal of a french college vii. to the same viii. to a student of modern languages ix. to the same x. to a student who lamented his defective memory xi. to a master of arts who said that a certain distinguished painter was half-educated part iv. the power of time. i. to a man of leisure who complained of want of time ii. to a young man of great talent and energy who had magnificent plans for the future iii. to a man of business who desired to make himself better acquainted with literature, but whose time for reading was limited iv. to a student who felt hurried and driven v. to a friend who, though he had no profession, could not find time for his various intellectual pursuits part v. the influences of money. i. to a very rich student ii. to a genius careless in money matters iii. to a student in great poverty part vi. custom and tradition. i. to a young gentleman who had firmly resolved never to wear anything but a gray coat ii. to a conservative who had accused the author of a want of respect for tradition iii. to a lady who lamented that her son had intellectual doubts concerning the dogmas of the church iv. to the son of the lady to whom the preceding letter was addressed v. to a friend who seemed to take credit to himself, intellectually, from the nature of his religious belief vi. to a roman catholic friend who accused the intellectual class of a want of reverence for authority part vii. women and marriage. i. to a young gentleman of intellectual tastes, who, without having as yet any particular lady in view, had expressed, in a general way, his determination to get married ii. to a young gentleman who contemplated marriage iii. to the same iv. to the same v. to the same vi. to a solitary student vii. to a lady of high culture who found it difficult to associate with persons of her own sex viii. to a lady of high culture ix. to a young man of the middle class, well educated, who complained that it was difficult for him to live agreeably with his mother, a person of somewhat authoritative disposition, but uneducated part viii. aristocracy and democracy. i. to a young english nobleman ii. to an english democrat part ix. society and solitude. i. to a lady who doubted the reality of intellectual friendships ii. to a young gentleman who lived much in fashionable society iii. to the same iv. to the same v. to a young gentleman who kept entirely out of company vi. to a friend who kindly warned the author of the bad effects of solitude part x. intellectual hygienics. i. to a young author whilst he was writing his first book ii. to a student in the first ardor of intellectual ambition iii. to an intellectual man who desired an outlet for his energies iv. to the friend of a man of high culture who produced nothing v. to a student who felt hurried and driven vi. to an ardent friend who took no rest vii. to the same viii. to a friend (highly cultivated) who congratulated himself on having entirely abandoned the habit of reading newspapers ix. to an author who appreciated contemporary literature x. to an author who kept very irregular hours part xi. trades and professions. i. to a young gentleman of ability and culture who had not decided about his profession ii. to a young gentleman who had literary and artistic tastes, but no profession iii. to a young gentleman who wished to devote himself to literature as a profession iv. to an energetic and successful cotton manufacturer v. to a young etonian who thought of becoming a cotton-spinner part xii. surroundings. i. to a friend who often changed his place of residence ii. to a friend who maintained that surroundings were a matter of indifference to a thoroughly occupied mind iii. to an artist who was fitting up a magnificent new studio the intellectual life. part i. _the physical basis._ letter i. to a young man of letters who worked excessively. mental labor believed to be innocuous to healthy persons--difficulty of testing this--case of the poet wordsworth--case of an eminent living author--case of a literary clergyman--case of an energetic tradesman--instances of two londoners who wrote professionally--scott's paralysis--byron's death--all intellectual labor proceeds on a physical basis. so little is really known about the action of the nervous system, that to go into the subject from the physiological point of view would be to undertake a most difficult investigation, entirely beyond the competence of an unscientific person like your present correspondent. you will, therefore, permit me, in reference to this, to leave you to the teaching of the most advanced physiologists of the time; but i may be able to offer a few practical suggestions, based on the experience of intellectual workers, which may be of use to a man whose career is likely to be one of severe and almost uninterrupted intellectual labor. a paper was read several years ago before the members of a society in london, in which the author maintained that mental labor was never injurious to a perfectly healthy human organization, and that the numerous cases of break-down, which are commonly attributed to excessive brain-work, are due, in reality, to the previous operation of disease. this is one of those assertions which cannot be answered in a sentence. concentrated within the briefest expression it comes to this, that mental labor cannot produce disease, but may aggravate the consequences of disease which already exists. the difficulty of testing this is obvious; for so long as health remains quite perfect, it remains perfect, of course, whether the brain is used or not; and when failure of health becomes manifest, it is not always easy to decide in what degree mental labor may have been the cause of it. again, the accuracy of so general a statement cannot be proved by any number of instances in its favor, since it is universally admitted that brain-work is not the only cause of disease, and no one affirms that it is more than one amongst many causes which may impede the bodily functions. when the poet wordsworth was engaged in composing the "white doe of rylstone," he received a wound in his foot, and he observed that the continuation of the literary labor increased the irritation of the wound; whereas by suspending his work he could diminish it, and absolute mental rest produced a perfect cure. in connection with this incident he remarked that poetic excitement, accompanied by protracted labor in composition, always brought on more or less of bodily derangement. he preserved himself from permanently injurious consequences by his excellent habits of life. a very eminent living author, whose name i do not feel at liberty to mention, is always prostrated by severe illness at the conclusion of each of his works; another is unwell every sunday, because he does not write on that day, and the recoil after the mental stretch of the week is too much for him. in the case of wordsworth, the physical constitution is believed to have been sound. his health at seventy-two was excellent; the two other instances are more doubtful in this respect, yet both these writers enjoy very fair health, after the pressure of brain-work has been removed for any considerable time. a clergyman of robust organization, who does a good deal of literary work at intervals, told me that, whenever he had attempted to make it regular, the consequence had always been distressing nervous sensations, from which at other times he was perfectly free. a tradesman, whose business affords an excellent outlet for energetic bodily activity, told me that having attempted, in addition to his ordinary work, to acquire a foreign language which seemed likely to be useful to him, he had been obliged to abandon it on account of alarming cerebral symptoms. this man has immense vigor and energy, but the digestive functions, in this instance, are sluggish. however, when he abandoned study, the cerebral inconveniences disappeared, and have never returned since. two londoners who followed literature as a profession, and who both worked to excess, had cerebral attacks of a still more decided kind. one of them, after his recovery, resolved to regulate his work in future, so that it might never pass the limits of moderation. he is now living, and in possession of a remarkably clear and richly furnished intellect. the other, who returned to his old habits, died in two years from softening of the brain. i am not aware that in these cases there was any other disease than that produced by an immoderate use of the mental powers. the health of sir walter scott--we have this on his own testimony--was uncommonly robust, and there is every reason to believe that his paralysis was brought on by the excessive labor which resulted from his pecuniary embarrassments, and that without such excessive mental labor and anxiety he would have preserved his health much longer. the death of byron was due, no doubt, quite as much to habits of dissipation as to poetical excitement; still it is probable that he would have borne either of these evil influences if it had not been accompanied by the other; and that to a man whose way of life was so exhausting as byron's was, the addition of constant poetical excitement and hard work in production, may be said without exaggeration to have killed him. we know that scott, with all his facility, had a dread of that kind of excitement, and withdrew from the poetical arena to avoid it. we know, too, that the brain of southey proved ultimately unable to endure the burden of the tasks he laid upon it. difficult as it may be in some instances to ascertain quite accurately whether an overworked man had perfectly sound bodily health to begin with, obvious as it may be that in many breakdowns the final failure has been accelerated by diseases independent of mental work, the facts remain, that the excessive exercise of the mental powers is injurious to bodily health and that all intellectual labor proceeds upon a physical basis. no man can safely forget this, and act as if he were a pure spirit, superior to physical considerations. let me then, in other letters on this subject, direct your attention to the close connection which exists between intellectual production and the state of the body and the brain; not with the authority of a physician, but with the sympathy of a fellow-laborer, who has learned something from his own experience, and still more from the more varied experience of his friends. letter ii. to a young man of letters who worked excessively. mental labor rarely compatible with the best physical conditions--wordsworth's manner of composition--mr. w. f. a. delane--george sand working under pressure--sir walter scott's field-sports--physical exercise the best tranquillizer of the nervous system--eugène sue--shelley's love of boating--nervousness the affliction of brain-workers--nature's kindly warning--working by spurts--beckford--byron--indolence of men of genius fortunate--distressing nature of cerebral fatigue. it is possible that many of the worst results of intellectual labor may be nothing more than indirect results. we may suffer, not from the work itself, but from sedentary confinement, from want of exercise, from insufficient variety and amusement. mental labor is seldom compatible with the best physical conditions; it is so sometimes, however, or may be made so by an effort of will and resolution. wordsworth composed his poetry in the open air, as he walked, and so preserved himself from the evil of close confinement to the desk. mr. w. f. a. delane, who did so much for the organization of the _times_ newspaper when it was under his management, began by doing law reports for that paper, in london and on circuit. his appearance of rude health surprised other members of his profession, but he accounted for it by the care he took to compensate for the bad air and sedentary labor in the courts of law by travelling between the assize towns on horseback, and also by a more than commonly temperate way of life, since he carefully avoided the bar dinners, eating and drinking for health alone. it is possible to endure the most unhealthy labor when there are frequent intervals of invigorating exercise, accompanied by habits of strict sobriety. the plan, so commonly resorted to, of trying to get health in stock for the rest of the year by a fortnight's hurried travelling in the autumn, is not so good as mr. delane's way of getting the week's supply of health during the course of the week itself. it happened once that george sand was hurried by the proprietor of a newspaper who wanted one of her novels as a _feuilleton_. she has always been a careful and deliberate worker, very anxious to give all necessary labor in preparation, and, like all such conscientious laborers, she can scarcely endure to be pushed. however, on this occasion she worked overtime, as they say in lancashire, and to enable herself to bear the extra pressure she did part of the work at night in order to keep several hours of daylight clear for her walks in the country, where she lived. many writers, in the same situation, would have temporarily abandoned exercise, but george sand clung to it all the more at a time when it was especially necessary that she should be well. in the same way sir walter scott counterbalanced the effects of sedentary occupation by his hearty enjoyment of field-sports. it has been supposed that his outdoor exercise, which to weaker persons appears excessive, may have helped to bring on the stroke of paralysis which finally disabled him; but the fact is, that when the stroke arrived sir walter had altered his habits of life in obedience to what he believed to be his duty, and had abandoned, or nearly so, the active amusements of his happier years. i believe rather that whilst he took so much exercise his robust constitution not only enabled him to endure it without injury, but required it to keep the nervous system healthy, in spite of his hard work in literary composition. physical exercise, when the constitution is strong enough to endure it, is by far the best tranquillizer of the nervous system which has yet been discovered, and sir walter's life at abbotsford was, in this respect at least, grounded on the true philosophy of conduct. the french romancer, eugene sue, wrote till ten o'clock every morning, and passed the rest of the day, when at his country house, either in horse-exercise, or field-sports, or gardening, for all of which he had a liking which amounted to passion. shelley's delight was boating, which at once exercised his muscles and relieved his mind from the weariness of incessant invention or speculation. it will generally be found, that whenever a man of much intellectual distinction has maintained his powers in full activity, it has been by avoiding the bad effects of an entirely sedentary life. i well believe that a person naturally robust, with a clear and powerful brain, could bear twelve or fourteen hours' work every day for years together so far as the work itself is concerned, if only so large an expenditure of time left a sufficient margin for amusement, and exercise, and sleep. but the privation of exercise, by weakening the digestive and assimilative powers, reduces the flow of healthy and rich blood to the brain--the brain requires an enormous quantity of blood, especially when the cerebral matter is rapidly destroyed by intellectual labor--and usually brings on nervousness, the peculiar affliction of the over-driven mental laborer. this nervousness is nature's kindly warning, preserving us, if we attend to it in time, from much more serious consequences. the best preventive of it, and often the only cure, is plenty of moderate exercise. the customs of the upper classes in england happily provide this in the best shape, that of amusement enjoyed in society, but our middle classes in large towns do not get nearly enough of it, and the most studious are always strongly tempted to neglect it altogether. men of great imaginative power are commonly addicted to a habit which is peculiarly dangerous. they work as race-horses work, with the utmost intensity of effort during short spaces of time, taxing all their powers whilst the brilliant effort lasts. when beckford wrote the wonderful tale "vathek" in his twentieth year, he did it at a single sitting, which lasted for three days and two nights, and it cost him a serious illness. several of the best poems by byron were written, if not quite with equal rapidity, still on the same principle of composition at white heat. in cases of this kind, nature provides her own remedy in the indolence of the imaginative temperament, which leaves large spaces of time for the action of the recuperative processes. the same law governs the physical energies of the carnivora, which maintain, or recover, their capacity for extraordinary effort by intervals of absolute repose. in its long spaces of mental rest the imaginative temperament recruits itself by amusement, which in england usually includes physical exercise of some kind. this fortunate indolence of men of genius would in most instances ensure their safety if they were not impelled by necessity to labor beyond the suggestions of inclination. the exhausted brain never of itself seeks the additional exhaustion of hard work. you know very well when you are tired, and at such times the natural man in you asks plainly enough for rest and recreation. the art is so to arrange our lives that the natural man may sometimes have his way, and forget, if only for a time, the labors which lead to weariness--not to that pleasant weariness of the body which promises soundest sleep, but the distressing fatigue of the exhausted spirit which is tortured by the importunity of ideas which it is unable to express, and apprehensions that it cannot dismiss, which fights through the sleepless night the phantoms of unconquerable horror. note.--the bad effect of literary composition on the physical state which was observed by wordsworth in his own case was also noticed by shelley during the composition of the "cenci," which, he said, had been a fine antidote to nervous medicines, and kept, he believed, the pain in his side "as sticks do a fire." these influences are best observed in people whose health is delicate. although joubert, for example, had an extremely clear intellect, he could scarcely write at all on account of the physical consequences. i have come to the conclusion that literary work _acts simply as a strong stimulant_. in moderate quantities it is not only innocent, but decidedly beneficial; in excess it acts like poison on the nervous system. what constitutes excess every man has to find out by his own experience. a page was excess to joubert, a chapter was moderation to alexandre dumas. letter iii. to a student in uncertain health. habits of kant, the philosopher--objection to an over-minute regularity of habit--value of independence of character--case of an english author--case of an english resident in paris--scott an abundant eater and drinker--goethe also--an eminent french publisher--turgot--importance of good cookery--wine drinking--ale--the aid of stimulants treacherous--the various effects of tobacco--tea and coffee--case of an english clergyman--balzac--the arabia custom of coffee-drinking--wisdom of occasionally using stimulants. immanuel kant, who was a master in the art of taking care of himself, had by practice acquired a dexterous mode of folding himself up in the bed-clothes, by passing them over and under his shoulders, so that, when the operation was complete, he was shut up like the silkworm in his cocoon. "when i am thus snugly folded up in my bed," he would say to his friends, "i say to myself, can any man be in better health than i am?" there is nothing in the lives of philosophers more satisfactory than this little passage. if kant had said to himself, "can anybody be wiser, more learned, more justly deserving of immortal fame than i am?" we should have felt, that however agreeable this opinion might have been to the philosopher who held it, his private satisfaction stood in need of confirmation from without; and even if he had really been all this, we might have reflected that wisdom and learning still leave their possessor exposed to the acutest kinds of suffering. but when a philosopher rolls himself up at night, and congratulates himself on the possession of perfect health, we only think what a happy man he was to possess that first of blessings, and what a sensible man to know the value of it! and kant had a deeper happiness in this reflection than any which could spring from the mere consciousness of possessing one of the unearned gifts of nature. the excellence of his health was due in part to a sufficiently good constitution, but it was due also to his own extreme carefulness about his habits. by an unceasing observation of his own bodily life, as far as possible removed from the anxiety of hypochondriacs, he managed to keep the physical machine in such regular order, that for more than thirty years he always rose precisely at the same minute. if his object had been health for health's sake, the result would still have been well worth any sacrifices of momentary inclination that it cost him; but kant had a higher purpose. he well knew that the regularity of the intellectual life depended entirely on the regularity of the bodily functions, and, unlike the foolish men alluded to by goethe who pass the day in complaining of headache, and the night in drinking the wine that produces it, kant not only knew that regular health was necessary to his work as a philosopher, but did everything in his power to preserve it. few intellectual laborers have in this respect given evidence of such persistent strength of will. in his manner of living he did not consult custom, but the needs of his individual nature. it is not always easy for great brain-workers to follow with perfect fidelity the customs of the people about them. these usages have been gradually formed by the majority to suit the needs of the majority; but there are cases where a close adherence to them would be a serious hindrance to the highest and best activity. a good example of this is kant's intense antipathy to beer. it did not suit him, and he was right in his non-conformity to german usage on this point, but he was mistaken in believing beer to be universally injurious. there is a very general belief in england that what is called a good breakfast is the foundation of the labor of the day. kant's breakfast, which he took at five in the morning at all seasons of the year, consisted of a cup of tea and a pipe of tobacco. on this he worked eight hours, either in lecturing or writing--a long stretch of uninterrupted labor. he dined at one, and this was his only meal, for he had no supper. the single repast was a deviation from ordinary usage, but kant found that it suited him, probably because he read in the evening from six till a quarter to ten, and a second meal might have interfered with this by diminishing his power of attention. there exists a strong medical objection to this habit of taking only one meal in twenty-four hours, which indeed is almost unknown in england, though not extremely rare on the continent. i know an old gentleman who for forty years has lived as kant did, and enjoys excellent health and uncommon mental clearness. a detail which illustrates kant's attention to whatever could affect his physical life, is his rule to withdraw his mind from everything requiring effort fifteen minutes before he went to bed. his theory, which is fully confirmed by the experience of others, was, that there was a risk of missing sleep if the brain was not tranquillized before bed-time. he knew that the intellectual life of the day depended on the night's rest, and he took this precaution to secure it. the regularity of his daily walk, taken during the afternoon in all weathers, and the strict limitation of the hours of rest, also helped the soundness of his sleep. he would not walk out in company, for the whimsical reason that if he opened his mouth a colder air would reach his lungs than that which passed through the nostrils; and he would not eat alone, but always had guests to dinner. there are good physiological reasons in favor of pleasant society at table, and, besides these, there are good intellectual reasons also. by attention to these rules of his, kant managed to keep both body and mind in a working order, more uninterrupted than is usual with men who go through much intellectual labor. the solitary objection to his system is the excessive regularity of habit to which it bound him by chains of his own forging. he found a quiet happiness in this regularity; indeed, happiness is said to be more commonly found in habit that in anything else, so deeply does it satisfy a great permanent instinct of our nature. but a _minute_ regularity of habit is objectionable, because it can only be practicable at home, and is compatible only with an existence of the most absolute tranquillity. kant did not travel, and never could have travelled. he was a bachelor, and could not have ceased to be a bachelor, without a disturbance that would have been intolerable to him. he enjoyed the full benefits of his system without experiencing its disadvantages, but any considerable change of situation would have made the disadvantages apparent. few lives can be so minutely regulated without risk of future inconvenience. kant's example is a good one so far as this, that it proved a sort of independence of character which would be valuable to every student. all who need to keep their minds in the best possible condition ought to have resolution enough to regulate their living in a manner which experience, in their case, proves to be most favorable. whatever may be the authority of custom, a wise man makes himself independent of usages which are impediments to his best activity. i know an author who was always unwell about eleven o'clock in the morning--so unwell that he could do nothing but lament his miserable fate. knowing by experience the powerful effect of regimen, i inquired whether he enjoyed his breakfast. "no, he did not." "then why did he attempt to eat any breakfast?" it turned out that this foolish man swallowed every morning two cups of bad coffee and a quantity of greasy food, from a patriotic deference to the customs of his country. he was persuaded to abandon this unsuitable habit and to eat nothing till half-past ten, when his adviser prescribed a well-cooked little _déjeuner à la fourchette_, accompanied by half a bottle of sound bordeaux. the effect was magical. my friend felt light and cheerful before _déjeuner_, and worked quite happily and well, whilst after _déjeuner_ he felt like a horse that has eaten his corn. nor was the good effect a transitory one; the bad symptoms never returned and he still adheres to his new arrangement. this little reform made a wretched existence happy, and has had for its result an increase in production with a diminution of fatigue. the explanation is that the stomach did not ask for the early breakfast, and had a hard fight to overcome it, after which came exhaustion and a distaste both for food and work. there are cases where an opposite rule is the right one. an englishman living in paris found the french _déjeuner_ unsuitable for him, and discovered that he worked best on a substantial english breakfast, with strong tea, at eight in the morning, after which he went on working all day without any further nourishment till dinner at six in the evening. a friend of sir walter scott's, who had stayed with him at abbotsford, told me that sir walter ate and drank like everybody else as to times and seasons, but much more abundantly than people of less vigorous organization. goethe used to work till eleven without taking anything, then he drank a cup of chocolate and worked till one. "at two he dined. this meal was the important meal of the day. his appetite was immense. even on the days when he complained of not being hungry he ate much more than most men. puddings, sweets, and cakes were always welcome. he sat a long while over his wine. he was fond of wine, and drank daily his two or three bottles." an eminent french publisher, one of the most clear-headed and hard-working men of his generation, never touched food or drink till six in the evening, when he ate an excellent dinner with his guests. he found this system favorable to his work, but a man of less robust constitution would have felt exhausted in the course of the day. turgot could not work well till after he had dined copiously, but many men cannot think after a substantial meal; and here, in spite of the example set by scott and goethe, let me observe that nothing interferes so much with brainwork as over-eating. the intellectual workman requires nourishment of the best possible quality, but the quantity ought always to be well within the capacity of his digestive powers. the truth appears to be, that whilst the intellectual life makes very large demands upon nutrition--for cerebral activity cannot go forward without constant supplies of force, which must come ultimately from what we have eaten--this kind of life, being sedentary, is unfavorable to the work of digestion. brain-workers cannot eat like sportsmen and farmers without losing many hours in torpor, and yet they need nutrition as much as if they led active lives. the only way out of this difficulty is to take care that the food is good enough for a moderate quantity of it to maintain the physical and mental powers. the importance of scientific cookery can hardly be exaggerated. intellectual labor is, in its origin, as dependent upon the art of cookery as the dissemination of its results is dependent upon paper-making and printing. this is one of those matters which people cannot be brought to consider seriously; but cookery in its perfection--the great science of preparing food in the way best suited to our use--is really the most important of all sciences, and the mother of the arts. the wonderful theory that the most ignorant cookery is the most favorable to health is only fit for the dark ages. it is grossly and stupidly untrue. a scientific cook will keep you in regular health, when an ignorant one will offer you the daily alternative of starving or indigestion. the great question of drinks is scarcely less important. sound natural wines, not strengthened by any addition of alcohol, are known to supply both stimulus and nourishment to the brain. goethe's practice was not irrational, though he drank fifty thousand bottles in his lifetime. still it is not necessary to imitate him to this extent. the wine-drinking populations have keener and livelier wits than those who use other beverages. it is proved by long experience that the pure juice of the grape sustains the force and activity of the brain. the poets who from age to age have sung the praise of wine were not wholly either deceivers or deceived. in the lands of the vine, where the plant is looked upon as a nursing mother, men do not injure their health by drinking; but in the colder north, where the grape can never ripen, the deaths from intemperance are frequent. bread and wine are almost pure gifts of nature, though both are prepared by man after the old traditional ways. these are not poisons, but gin and absinthe are poisons, madness poured out from a bottle! kant and goethe loved the pure rhine wine, and their brains were clear and vigorous to the utmost span of life. it was not wine that ruined burns and byron, or baudelaire, or alfred de musset. notwithstanding kant's horror of beer, that honest northern drink deserves our friendly recognition. it has quite a peculiar effect upon the nervous system, giving a rest and calm which no other drink can procure for it so safely. it is said that beer drinkers are slow, and a little stupid; that they have an ox-like placidity not quite favorable to any brilliant intellectual display. but there are times when this placidity is what the laboring brain most needs. after the agitations of too active thinking there is safety in a tankard of ale. the wine drinkers are agile, but they are excitable; the beer drinkers are heavy, but in their heaviness there is peace. in that clear golden drink which england has brewed for more than a thousand octobers, and will brew for a thousand more, we may find perhaps some explanation of that absence of irritability which is the safe-guard of the national character, which makes it faithful in its affections, easy to govern, not easy to excite to violence. if i have spoken favorably of beer and wine as having certain intellectual uses, please remember that i recommend only the habitual use of them, not mad rites of bacchus, and even the habitual use only just so far as it may suit the individual constitution. the liberal regimen of scott and goethe would not answer in every case, and there are organizations, often very robust, in which intoxicating drinks of all kinds, even in the most moderate quantity, impede the brain's action instead of aiding it. two of the most able men i have ever known could not drink pure wine of any kind because it sent the blood to the head, with consequent cerebral oppression. and whilst on this subject i ought to observe, that the aid which these stimulants afford, even when the body gratefully accepts them, is often treacherous from its very acceptability. men who are over-driven--and the number of such men is unhappily very great in these days--say that without stimulants they could not get through their labor; but the stimulants often delude us as to the limits of our natural powers and encourage us to attempt too much. the help they give us is not altogether illusory; under certain limitations it is real, but many have gone farther than the reality of the assistance warranted. the ally brings to us an increase of forces, but he comes with appearances of power surpassing the reality, and we undertake tasks beyond our strength. in drinking, as in eating, the best rule for the intellectual is moderation in quantity with good quality, a sound wine, and not enough of it to foster self-delusion. the use of tobacco has so much extended itself in the present generation that we are all obliged to make a decision for ourselves on the ancient controversy between its friends and enemies. we cannot form a reasonable opinion about tobacco without bearing in mind that it produces, according to circumstances, one of two entirely distinct and even opposite classes of effects. in certain states of the body it acts as a stimulant, in other states as a narcotic. people who have a dislike to smoking affirm that it stupefies; but this assertion, at least so far as the temporary consequences are concerned, is not supported by experience. most of the really brilliant conversations that i have listened to have been accompanied by clouds of tobacco-smoke; and a great deal of the best literary composition that is produced by contemporary authors is wrought by men who are actually smoking whilst they work. my own experience is that very moderate smoking acts as a pleasant stimulus upon the brain, whilst it produces a temporary lassitude of the muscular system, not perceptible in times of rest, but an appreciable hindrance in times of muscular exertion. it is better therefore for men who feel these effects from tobacco to avoid it when they are in exercise, and to use it only when the body rests and the mind labors. pray remember, however, that this is the experience of an exceedingly moderate smoker, who has not yet got himself into the general condition of body which is brought on by a larger indulgence in tobacco. on the other hand, it is evident that men engaged in physical labor find a muscular stimulus in occasional smoking, and not a temporary lassitude. it is probable that the effect varies with individual cases, and is never precisely what our own experience would lead us to imagine. for excessive smokers, it appears to be little more than the tranquillizing of a sort of uneasiness, the continual satisfaction of a continual craving. i have never been able to ascertain that moderate smoking diminished intellectual force; but i have observed in excessive smokers a decided weakening of the will, and a preference for talking about work to the effort of actual labor. the opinions of medical men on this subject are so much at variance that their science only adds to our uncertainty. one doctor tells me that the most moderate smoking is unquestionably injurious, whilst others affirm that it is innocent. speaking simply from self-observation, i find that in my own case tea and coffee are far more perilous than tobacco. almost all english people are habitual tea-drinkers, and as the tea they drink is very strong, they may be said to use it in excess. the unpleasant symptoms which tea-poisoning produces in a patient not inured by habit, disappear in the seasoned tea-drinker, leaving only a certain exhilaration, which appears to be perfectly innocuous. if tea is a safe stimulant, it is certainly an agreeable one, and there seems to be no valid reason why brain-workers should refuse themselves that solace. i knew a worthy clergyman many years ago who from the most conscientious motives denied himself ale and wine, but found a fountain of consolation in the tea-pot. his usual allowance was sixteen cups, all of heroic strength, and the effect upon his brain seems to have been altogether favorable, for his sermons were both long and eloquent, and to this day he is preaching still, without any diminution of his powers. french people find in coffee the most efficacious remedy for the temporary torpor of the mind which results from the processes of digestion. balzac drank great quantities of coffee whilst he wrote; and this, it is believed, brought on the terrible nervous disease that accelerated his end. the best proof that tea and coffee are favorable to intellectual expression is that all nations use one or the other as aids to conversation. in mr. palgrave's travels in arabia there is never any talk without the inevitable coffee, that fragrant arabian berry prepared with such delicate cunning that it yields the perfect aroma. the wisdom of occasionally using these various stimulants for intellectual purposes is proved by a single consideration. each of us has a little cleverness and a great deal of sluggish stupidity. there are certain occasions when we absolutely need the little cleverness that we possess. the orator needs it when he speaks, the poet when he versifies, but neither cares how stupid he may become when the oration is delivered and the lyric set down on paper. the stimulant serves to bring out the talent when it is wanted, like the wind in the pipes of an organ. "what will it matter if i am even a little duller afterwards?" says the genius; "i can afford to be dull when i have done." but the truth still remains that there are stimulants and stimulants. not the nectar of the gods themselves were worth the dash of a wave upon the beach, and the pure cool air of the morning. note.--what is said in the above letter about the employment of stimulants is intended to apply only to cases in which there is no organic disease. the harm which diseased persons do to themselves by conforming to customs which are innocent for others is as lamentable as it is easily avoidable. two bottles of any natural wine grown above the latitude of lyons are a permissible daily allowance to a man whose organs are all sound; but the doctors in the wine districts unanimously forbid pure wine when there is a chronic inflammatory tendency. in these cases even the most honest bordeaux ought to be diluted with twice its volume of water. there are many chronic diseases which tobacco irritates and accelerates. both wine and tobacco are injurious to weak eyes. letter iv. to a muscular christian. muscular and intellectual tendencies in two boys--difficulty of finding time to satisfy both--plato on the influences of music and gymnastics--somnolence and digestion--neglect of literature--natural restlessness of the active temperament--case of a garibaldian officer--difficulty of taking a sufficient interest in exercise--a boar hunt. i know two little boys, sons of a near neighbor, who have from, childhood exhibited opposite tendencies. one of them is incessantly active, always out of doors in any weather, busy about horses, and farming, and game, heedless of his books, and studying only under positive compulsion. the other sits at home with his lessons or a story book, and only goes out because he is incited by the fraternal example. the two lads represent two distinct varieties of human life, the active and the intellectual. the elder is happiest during physical exertion; the younger is happiest when his brain is fully occupied. left entirely to themselves, without the equalizing influence of the outside world and the ways of living which general custom has established, they would lead the most opposite lives. the elder would inevitably become a farmer, that he might live in the country and take exercise all day long, or else he would seek adventure in wild travel, or in romantic warfare; but the younger would very quickly be taken possession of by some engrossing intellectual pursuit, and lead the life of a sedentary student. the problem which these two young lives have before them is the reconciliation of their tendencies. since they come of cultivated parents, the intellectual lad has the better chance of following his own bent. both will have to take their university degrees, and the younger has the advantage there. still there are powerful influences in favor of the elder. his activity will be encouraged by the admiration of his companions, and by the example of the country gentlemen who are his neighbors. he can ride, and row, and swim; he is beginning to shoot; at twenty he will be a sportsman. when once he has taken his degree, i wonder what will be the advances in his intellectual culture. fraternal and social influences will preserve the younger from absolute physical inaction; but there are not any influences powerful enough to keep the elder safe from intellectual rust. if you, who are a distinguished sportsman and athlete, would kindly inform us with perfect frankness of the line which your studies have followed since you quitted eton, we should be the wiser for your experience. have gymnastic exercises hardened you, as plato said they did, when pursued excessively? and do you need the musical studies which he both valued and dreaded as the most powerful of softening influences? if you have energy enough to lead both lives, pray how do you find the time? as to plato's musical influence, you invite it, and yet you treacherously elude its power. after being out all day in the pursuit of sylvan pleasures (if shooting on treeless wastes can be called a sylvan pleasure), you come home at nightfall ravenous. then you do ample justice to your dinner, and having satisfied your _faim de chasseur_, you go into the drawing-room, and ask your wife to play and sing to you. if plato could witness that pretty scene, he would approve your obedience to his counsels. he would behold an athletic englishman stretching his mighty limbs on a couch of soft repose, and letting his soul grow tender as his ears drank ravishing harmonies. if, however, the ancient sage, delighted with so sweet a picture of strength refined by song, were to dwell upon the sight as i have done, he would perceive too soon that, although your body was present indeed, your soul had become deaf in sleep's oblivion. so it happens to you night after night, and the music reaches you no more than the songs of choristers reach the dead in the graves below. and the elevating influences of literature? you have books, of course, in abundance. there is a library, amongst other luxuries of your home. but the literature your intellect feeds upon is in the columns of the _field_, your newspaper. yet this neglect of the means of culture is not due to any natural feebleness of the mind. your brain, by its nature, is as vigorous as your vigorous body. it is sleep, and weariness, and the great necessary business of digestion, that drown your intellectual energies. the work of repairing so great a destruction of muscle is nature's chief concern. since you became the mighty hunter that you are, the wear and tear have been enormous, and the necessary rapidity of reconstruction has absorbed your rich vitality. i will not question the wisdom of your choice, if there has been any deliberate choice, though perhaps the life of action that you lead may have grown rather out of circumstances determining habit than from any conscious resolution. health is so much more necessary to happiness than culture, that few who could choose between them would sacrifice it for learning, unless they were impelled by irresistible instincts. and beyond the great delight of health and strength there is a restlessness in men born to be active which must have its outlet in activity. i knew a brave italian who had followed garibaldi in all his romantic enterprises, who had suffered from privation and from wounds, who had not only faced death in the wildest adventures, but, what is even more terrible to the active temperament, had risked health from frequent exposure; and when i asked him whether it was affection to his famous chief, or faith in a political creed, or some more personal motive that had led him to this scorn of prudence, he answered that, after honest self-examination, he believed the most powerful motive to be the passion for an active life. the active temperament likes physical action for its own sake, and not as a means of health. activity renews itself and claims larger and larger satisfaction, till at last the habit of it absorbs the whole energy of the man. although such a life as yours would be incompatible with the work i have to do, it would be an unmixed benefit to me to take a greater interest in exercise. if you could but communicate that interest, how willingly would i become your pupil! the fatal law of the studious temperament is, that in exercise itself it must find some intellectual charm, so that we quit our books in the library only to go and read the infinite book of nature. we cannot go out in the country without incessantly thinking about either botany, or geology, or landscape painting, and it is difficult for us to find a refuge from the importunate habit of investigation. sport is the only refuge, but the difficulty is to care about it sufficiently to avoid _ennui_. when you have not the natural instinct, how are you to supply its place by any make-believe excitement? there is no position in the world more wearisome than that of a man inwardly indifferent to the amusement in which he is trying to take part. _you_ can watch for game with an invincible patience, for you have the natural instinct, but after the first ten minutes on the skirts of the wood i lay my gun down and begin to botanize. last week a friendly neighbor invited me to a boar-hunt. the boar was supposed to be in the middle of a great impenetrable plantation, and all i did during the whole morning was to sit in my saddle awaiting the exit of the beast, cantering from one point of the wood's circumference to another, as the cry of the dogs guided me. was it pleasure? a true hunter would have found interest enough in expectation, but i felt like a man on a railway-platform who is waiting for a train that is late. letter v. to a student who neglected bodily exercise. difficulty of conciliating the animal and the intellectual lives--bodily activity sometimes preserved by an effort of the will--necessity of faith in exercise--incompatibility between physical and intellectual living disappears in large spaces of time--franklin's theory about concentration in exercise--time an essential factor--health of a rural postman--pedestrian habits of wordsworth--pedestrian and equestrian habits of sir walter scott--goethe's wild delight in physical exercise--alexander humboldt combated early delicacy by exercise--intellectual utilities of physical action. "we have done those things which we ought not to have done; we have left undone those things which we ought to have done, and there is no health in us." how applicable, my dear brother, are these words which the church, in her wisdom, has seen to be adapted to all sinners--how applicable, i say, are they to students most especially! they have quite a personal applicability to you and me. we have read all day long, and written till three o'clock in the morning; we have taken no exercise for weeks, and there is no health in us. the doctor scrutinizes our wearied eyes, and knows that our brains are weary. little do we need his warnings, for does not nature herself remind us of our disobedience, and tell us in language not to be misinterpreted, to amend the error of our ways? our digestion is sluggish and imperfect; we are as nervous as delicate ladies, and there is no health in us. how easy it is to follow one of the two lives--the animal or the intellectual! how difficult to conciliate the two! in every one of us there exists an animal which might have been as vigorous as wolves and foxes, if it had been left to develop itself in freedom. but besides the animal, there existed also a mind, and the mental activity restrained the bodily activity, till at last there is a serious danger of putting an end to it altogether. i know two men, about fifty-five years old both of them, and both of them admirably active. they tell me that their bodily activity has been preserved by an effort of the will; that if they had not resolutely kept up the habit of using legs and arms in daily work or amusement their limbs would have stiffened into uselessness, and their constitutions would have been unable to bear the call of any sudden emergency. one of them has four residences in different parts of the same county, and yet he will not keep a carriage, but is a pedestrian terrible to his friends; the other is at the head of a great business, and gives an example of physical activity to his workpeople. both have an absolute faith in habitual exercise; and both affirm that if the habit were once broken they could never afterwards resume it. we need this faith in exercise--this firm conviction of its necessity--the sort of conviction that makes a man go out in all weathers, and leave the most urgent intellectual labor for the mere discipline and hardening of the body. few students possess this faith in its purity. it is hard to believe that we shall get any good from exercise proportionate to the sacrifice of time. the incompatibility between the physical and the intellectual lives is often very marked if you look at small spaces of time only; but if you consider broader spaces, such as a lifetime, then the incompatibility is not so marked, and gives place to a manifest conciliation. the brain is clearer in vigorous health than it can be in the gloom and misery of sickness; and although health may last for a while without renewal from exercise, so that if you are working under pressure for a month the time given to exercise is so much deducted from the result, it is not so for the life's performance. health sustained for many years is so useful to the realization of all considerable intellectual undertakings, that the sacrifice to the bodily well-being is the best of all possible investments. franklin's theory about concentrating his exercise for the economy of time was founded upon a mistake. violent exertion for minutes is _not_ equivalent to moderate exercise for hours. the desire to concentrate good of various kinds into the smallest possible space is one of the commonest of _human_ wishes, but it is not encouraged by the broader economy of nature. in the exercise of the mind every teacher is well aware that time is an essential factor. it is necessary to _live_ with a study for hundreds or thousands of hours before the mind can assimilate as much of the subject as it may need; and so it is necessary to live in exercise during a thousand hours of every year to make sure of the physical benefits. even the fresh air itself requires time to renovate our blood. the fresh air cannot be concentrated; and to breathe the prodigious quantities of it which are needed for perfect energy, we must be out in it frequently and long. the inhabitants of great cities have recourse to gymnastics as a substitute for the sports of the country. these exercises have one advantage--they can be directed scientifically so as to strengthen the limbs that need development; but no city gymnasium can offer the invigorating breezes of the mountain. we require not only exercise but exposure--daily exposure to the health-giving inclemencies of the weather. the postman who brings my letters walks eight thousand miles a year, and enjoys the most perfect regularity of health. there are operatives in factories who go through quite as much bodily exertion, but they have not his fine condition. he is as merry as a lark, and announces himself every morning like a bearer of joyful tidings. what the postman does from necessity an old gentleman did as regularly, though more moderately, for the preservation of his health and faculties. he went out every day; and as he never consulted the weather, so he never had to consult the physicians. nothing in the habits of wordsworth--that model of excellent habits--can be better as an example to men of letters than his love of pedestrian excursions. wherever he happened to be, he explored the whole neighborhood on foot, looking into every nook and cranny of it; and not merely the immediate neighborhood, but extended tracts of country; and in this way he met with much of his best material. scott was both a pedestrian and an equestrian traveller, having often, as he tells us, walked thirty miles or ridden a hundred in those rich and beautiful districts which afterwards proved to him such a mine of literary wealth. goethe took a wild delight in all sorts of physical exercise--swimming in the ilm by moonlight, skating with the merry little weimar court on the schwansee, riding about the country on horseback, and becoming at times quite outrageous in the rich exuberance of his energy. alexander humboldt was delicate in his youth, but the longing for great enterprises made him dread the hindrances of physical insufficiency, so he accustomed his body to exercise and fatigue, and prepared himself for those wonderful explorations which opened his great career. here are intellectual lives which were forwarded in their special aims by habits of physical exercise; and, in an earlier age, have we not also the example of the greatest intellect of a great epoch, the astonishing leonardo da vinci, who took such a delight in horsemanship that although, as vasari tells us, poverty visited him often, he never could sell his horses or dismiss his grooms? the physical and intellectual lives are not incompatible. i may go farther, and affirm that the physical activity of men eminent in literature has added abundance to their material and energy to their style; that the activity of scientific men has led them to innumerable discoveries; and that even the more sensitive and contemplative study of the fine arts has been carried to a higher perfection by artists who painted action in which they had had their part, or natural beauty, which they had travelled far to see. even philosophy itself owes much to mere physical courage and endurance. how much that is noblest in ancient thinking may be due to the hardy health of socrates! letter vi. to an author in mortal disease. considering death as a certainty--the wisdom learned from suffering--employment of happier intervals--the teaching of the diseased not to be rejected--their double experience--ignorance of nature's spoiled children--benefit of disinterested thought--reasons for pursuing intellectual labors to the last--geoffroy saint-hilaire. when alexandre bixio lay on his death-bed, his friend labrousse visited him, and exclaimed on entering the room, "how well you are looking to-day!" to this, bixio, who was clearly aware of his condition, answered in these words:--"voyons, mon pauvre labrousse; tu viens voir un homme qui n'a plus qu'un quart d'heure a vivre, et tu veux lui faire croire qu'il a bonne mine; allons, une poignée de main, cela vaut mieux pour un homme que tous ces petits mensonges-lá." i will vex you with none of these well-meant but wearisome little falsehoods. we both of us know your state; we both know that your malady, though it may be alleviated, can never be cured; and that the fatal termination of it, though delayed by all the artifices of science, will certainly arrive at last. the cheerful courage which enables you to look this certainty in the face has also enabled you to extract from years of suffering that profoundest wisdom which (as one of the wisest of living englishmen has told us) can be learned from suffering alone. the admirable elasticity of your intellectual and moral nature has enabled you, in the intervals of physical uneasiness or pain, to cast aside every morbid thought, to enter quite fully and heartily into the healthy life of others, and to enjoy the magnificent spectacle of the universe with contented submission to its laws--those beneficent yet relentless laws which to you bring debility and death. you have continued to write notwithstanding the progress of your malady; and yet, since it has so pitilessly held you, there is no other change in the spirit of your compositions than the deepening of a graver beauty, the addition of a sweeter seriousness. not one sentence that you have written betrays either the injustice of the invalid, or his irritability. your mind is not clouded by any mist from the fever marshes, but its sympathies are far more active than they were. your pain has taught you a tender pity for all the pain that is outside of you, and a patient gentleness which was wanting to your nature in its days of barbarian health. surely it would be a lamentable error if mankind were to carry out the recommendation of certain ruthless philosophers, and reject the help and teaching of the diseased. without undervaluing the robust performance of healthy natures, and without encouraging literature that is morbid, that is fevered, impatient, and perverse, we may still prize the noble teaching which is the testament of sufferers to the world. the diseased have a peculiar and mysterious experience; they have known the sensations of health, and then, in addition to this knowledge, they have gained another knowledge which enables them to think more accurately even of health itself. a life without suffering would be like a picture without shade. the pets of nature, who do not know what suffering is, and cannot realize it, have always a certain rawness, like foolish landsmen who laugh at the terrors of the ocean, because they have neither experience enough to know what those terrors are, nor brains enough to imagine them. you who are borne along, slowly but irresistibly, to that niagara which plunges into the gulf of death,--you who, with perfect self-possession and heroic cheerfulness, are counting the last miles of the voyage,--find leisure to study and think as the boat glides onwards silently to the inevitable end. it is one of the happiest privileges of the high intellectual life that it can elevate us--at least in the intervals of relief from complete prostration or acute pain--to regions of disinterested thought, where all personal anxieties are forgotten. to feel that he is still able, even in days of physical weakness and decline, to add something to the world's inheritance of knowledge, or to bequeath to it some new and noble thought in the pearl of complete expression, is a profound satisfaction to the active mind that is lodged in a perishing body. many diseases fortunately permit this activity to the last; and i do not hesitate to affirm, that the work done in the time of physical decline has in not a few instances been the most perfect and the most permanently valuable. it is not accurately true that the mind and the body invariably fail together. physicians who know how prevalent chronic diseases are, and how many eminent men are physically inconvenienced by them, know also that minds of great spiritual energy possess the wonderful faculty of indefinitely improving themselves whilst the body steadily deteriorates. nor is there anything irrational in this persistent improvement of the mind, even to the extremest limit of material decay; for the mind of every intellectual human being is part and parcel of the great permanent mind of humanity; and even if its influence soon ceases to be traceable--if the spoken words are forgotten--if the written volume is not reprinted or even quoted, it has not worked in vain. the intellectual light of europe in this century is not only due to great luminaries whom every one can name, but to millions of thoughtful persons, now utterly forgotten, who in their time loved the light, and guarded it, and increased it, and carried it into many lands, and bequeathed it as a sacred trust. he who labors only for his personal pleasure may well be discouraged by the shortness and uncertainty of life, and cease from his selfish toil on the first approaches of disease; but whoever has fully realized the grand continuity of intellectual tradition, and taken his own place in it between the future and the past, will work till he can work no more, and then gaze hopefully on the world's great future, like geoffroy saint-hilaire, when his blind eyes beheld the future of zoology. letter vii. to a young man of brilliant ability, who had just taken his degree. a domestic picture--thoughts suggested by it--importance of the senses in intellectual pursuits--importance of hearing to madame de stael--importance of seeing to mr. buskin--mr. prescott, the historian--how blindness retarded his work--value of all the five senses--self-government indispensable to their perfection--great value of longevity to the intellectual life. it is always a great pleasure to me to pass an evening at your father's house; but on the last occasion that pleasure was very much enhanced because you were once more with us. i watched your mother's eyes as she sat in her place in the drawing-room. they followed you almost without ceasing, and there was the sweetest, happiest expression on her dear face, that betrayed her tender maternal love for you and her legitimate maternal pride. your father was equally happy in his own way; he was much more gay and talkative than i have seen him for two or three anxious years; he told amusing stories; he entered playfully into the jests of others; he had pleasant projects for the future, and spoke of them with facetious exaggeration. i sat quietly in my corner, slyly observing my old friends, and amusing myself by discovering (it did not need much perspicacity for that) the hidden sources of the happiness that was so clearly visible. they were gladdened by the first successes of your manhood; by the evidence of your strength; by the realization of hopes long cherished. watching this charming picture with a perfect sympathy, i began to have certain thoughts of my own which it is my present purpose to communicate to you without disguise. i thought, first, how agreeable it was to be the spectator of so pretty a picture; but then my eyes wandered to a painting that hung upon the walls, in which also there were a mother and her son, and this led me a long way. the painting was a hundred years old; but although the colors were not quite so fresh as when they left the palette of the artist, the beautiful youth who stood radiant like a young apollo in the centre of the composition had not lost one of the great gifts with which his cunning human creator had endowed him. the fire of his eye had not been quenched by time; the bloom of his cheek still flushed with faint vermilion; his lip was full and imperious; his limbs athletic; his bearing haughty and dauntless. all life seemed spread before him like a beautiful rich estate of which every acre was his own. how easily will he conquer fame! how easily kindle passion. who shall withstand this pink and perfection of aristocracy--this ideal of the age of fine gentlemen, with all the gifts of nature helped by all the inventions of art? then i thought farther: "that splendid young nobleman in the picture will look just as young as he does now when we shall be either superannuated or dead." and i looked at you and your mother again and thought: "it is just five minutes since i saw these two living beings, and in this little space of time they have both of them aged a little, though no human observer has enough delicacy of perception to detect so inappreciable an alteration." i went gradually on and on into the future, trying to imagine the changes which would come over yourself more especially (for it was you who were the centre of my reverie), till at last i imagined pretty accurately what you might be at sixty; but there it became necessary to stop, because it was too difficult to conceive the processes of decay. after this, one thought grew upon me and became dominant. i thought, at present he has all the senses in their perfection, and they serve him without a hitch. he is an intelligence served by organs, and the organs are all doing their duty as faithfully as a postman who brings letters. when the postman becomes too infirm to do his work he will retire on his little pension, and another will take his place and bring the letters just as regularly; but when the human organs become infirm they cannot be taken out and replaced by new ones, so that we must content ourselves to the end, with their service, such as it may be. then i reflected how useful the senses are to the high intellectual life, and how wise it is, even for intellectual purposes, to preserve them as long as possible in their perfection. to be able to see and hear well--to feel healthy sensations--even to taste and smell properly, are most important qualifications for the pursuit of literature, and art, and science. if you read attentively the work of any truly illustrious poet, you will find that the whole of the imagery which gives power and splendor to his verse is derived from nature through one or other of these ordinary channels. some philosophers have gone much farther than this, and have affirmed that the entire intellectual life is based ultimately upon remembered physical sensations; that we have no mental conception that is really independent of sensuous experience; and that the most abstract thought is only removed from sensation by successive processes of substitution, i have not space to enter into so great and mysterious a subject as this; but i desire to draw your attention to a truth very commonly overlooked by intellectual people, which is the enormous importance of the organs of sense in the highest intellectual pursuits. i will couple together two names which have owed their celebrity, one chiefly to the use of her ears, the other to the use of his eyes. madame de stael obtained her literary material almost exclusively by means of conversation. she directed, systematically, the talk of the learned and brilliant men amongst whom she lived to the subject which for the moment happened to occupy her thoughts. her literary process (which is known to us in detail through the revelations of her friends) was purposely invented to catch everything that she heard, as a net catches fish in a river. first, she threw down on paper a very brief rough draft of the intended literary project. this she showed to few, but from it she made a second "state" (as an engraver would say), which she exhibited to some of her trusted friends, profiting by their hints and suggestions. her secretary copied the corrected manuscript, incorporating the new matter, on paper with a very broad margin for farther additions. during all the time that it took to carry her work through these successive states, that ingenious woman made the best possible use of her ears, which were her natural providers. she made everybody talk who was likely to be of any use to her, and then immediately added what she had caught on the wide margin reserved for that purpose. she used her eyes so little that she might almost as well have been blind. we have it on her own authority, that were it not out of respect to custom, she would not open her window to see the bay of naples for the first time, whereas she would travel five hundred leagues to talk with a clever man whom she had never met. now since madame de stael's genius fed itself exclusively through the faculty of hearing, what an enormous difference it would have made to her if she had been deaf! it is probable that the whole of her literary reputation was dependent on the condition of her ears. even a very moderate degree of deafness (just enough to make listening irksome) might have kept her in perpetual obscurity. the next instance i intend to give is that of a distinguished contemporary, mr. ruskin. his peculiar position in literature is due to his being able to see as cultivated artists see. everything that is best and most original in his writings is invariably either an account of what he has seen in his own independent inimitable way, or else a criticism of the accurate or defective sight of others. his method of study, by drawing and taking written memoranda of what he has seen, is entirely different from madame de stael's method, but refers always, as hers did, to the testimony of the predominant sense. every one whose attention has been attracted to the subject is aware that, amongst people who are commonly supposed, to see equally well, and who are not suspected of any tendency to blindness, the degrees of perfection in this sense vary to infinity. suppose that mr. ruskin (to our great misfortune) had been endowed with no better eyes than many persons who see fairly well in the ordinary sense, his enjoyment and use of sight would have been so much diminished that he would have had little enthusiasm about seeing, and yet that kind of enthusiasm was quite essential to his work. the well-known instance of mr. prescott, the historian, is no doubt a striking proof what _may_ be accomplished by a man of remarkable intellectual ability without the help of sight, or rather helped by the sight of others. we have also heard of a blind traveller, and even of a blind entomologist; but in all cases of this kind they are executive difficulties to be overcome, such that only the most resolute natures would ever dream of encountering them. when the materials for the "reign of ferdinand and isabella" arrived in prescott's house from europe, his remaining eye had just suffered from over-exertion to such a degree that he could not use it again for years. "i well remember," he wrote in a letter to a friend, "the blank despair which i felt when my literary treasures arrived, and i saw the mine of wealth lying around me which i was forbidden to explore." and although, by a most tedious process, which would have worn out the patience of any other author, mr. prescott did at last arrive at the conclusion of his work, it cost him ten years of labor--probably thrice as much time as would have been needed by an author of equal intellectual ability without any infirmity of sight. although, of the five senses which god has given us, sight and hearing are the most necessary to the intellectual life, it may easily be demonstrated that the lower ones are not without their intellectual uses. perfect literature and art can only he produced by men who are perfect in all their natural faculties. the great creative intellects have never been ascetics; they have been rightly and healthily sensitive to every kind of pleasure. the taste of fruits and wines, the perfume of flowers are a part of the means by which the spirit of nature influences our most secret thoughts, and conveys to us suggestions, or carries us into states of feeling which have an enormous effect upon our thinking, though the manner in which the effect is produced is one of the deepest mysteries of our mysterious being. when the caliph vathek added five wings to the palace of alkoremmi, on the hill of pied horses, for the particular gratification of each of his five senses, he only did on a uselessly large scale what every properly-endowed human being does, when he can afford it, on a small one. you will not suspect me of preaching unlimited indulgence. the very object of this letter is to recommend, for intellectual purposes, the careful preservation of the senses in the freshness of their perfection, and this is altogether incompatible with every species of excess. if you are to see clearly all your life, you must not sacrifice eyesight by over-straining it; and the same law of moderation is the condition of preserving every other faculty. i want you to know the exquisite taste of common dry bread; to enjoy the perfume of a larch wood at a distance; to feel delight when a sea-wave dashes over you. i want your eye to be so sensitive that it shall discern the faintest tones of a gray cloud, and yet so strong that it shall bear to gaze on a white one in the dazzling glory of sunshine. i would have your hearing sharp enough to detect the music of the spheres, if it were but audible, and yet your nervous system robust enough to endure the shock of the guns on an ironclad. to have and keep these powers we need a firmness of self-government that is rare. young men are careless of longevity; but how precious are added years to the fulness of the intellectual life! there are lives, such as that of major pendennis, which only diminish in value as they advance--when the man of fashion is no longer fashionable, and the sportsman can no longer stride over the ploughed fields. the old age of the major pendennises is assuredly not to be envied: but how rich is the age of the hunboldts! i compare the life of the intellectual to a long wedge of gold--the thin end of it begins at birth, and the depth and value of it go on indefinitely increasing till at last comes death (a personage for whom nathaniel hawthorne had a peculiar dislike, for his unmannerly habit of interruption), who stops the auriferous processes. oh, the mystery of the nameless ones who have died when the wedge was thin and looked so poor and light! oh, the happiness of the fortunate old men whose thoughts went deeper and deeper like a wall that runs out into the sea! note.--one of the most painful cases of interruption caused by death is that of cuvier. his paralysis came upon him whilst he was still in full activity, and death prevented him from arranging a great accumulation of scientific material. he said to m. pasquier, "i had great things still to do; all was ready in my head. after thirty years of labor and research, there remained but to write, and now the hands fail, and carry with them the head." but the most lamentable instances of this kind of interruption are, from the nature of things, unknown to us. even the friends of the deceased cannot estimate the extent of the loss, for a man's immediate neighbors are generally the very last persons to become aware of the nature of his powers or the value of his acquirements. part ii. the moral basis. letter i. to a moralist who had said that there was a want of moral fibre in the intellectual, especially in poets and artists. the love of intellectual pleasure--the seeking for a stimulus--intoxication of poetry and oratory--other mental intoxications--the bishop of exeter on drudgery--the labor of composition in poetry--wordsworth's dread of it--moore--his trouble with "lalla rookh"--his painstaking in preparation--necessity of patient industry in other arts--john lewis, meissonier, mulready--drudgery in struggling against technical difficulties--water-color painting, etching, oil-painting, fresco, line-engraving--labor undergone for mere discipline--moral strength of students--giordano bruno. you told me the other day that you believed the inducement to what i called intellectual living to be merely the love of pleasure--pleasure of a higher kind, no doubt, than that which we derive from wine, yet fairly comparable to it. you went on to say that you could not, from the moral point of view, discern any appreciable difference between intoxicating oneself by means of literature or art and getting tipsy on port wine or brandy; that the reading of poetry, most especially was clearly self-intoxication--a service of venus and bacchus, in which the suggestions of artfully-ordered words were used as substitutes for the harem and the wine-flask. completing the expression of this idea, you said that the excitement produced by oratory was exactly of the same nature as the excitement produced by gin, so that mr. bright and m. gambetta--nay, even a gentleman so respectable as the late lord derby--belonged strictly to the same profession as the publicans, being dealers in stimulants, and no more. the habitual student was, in your view, nothing better than the helpless victim of unresisted appetite, to whom intellectual intoxication, having been at first a pleasure, had finally become a necessity. you added that any rational person who found himself sinking into such a deplorable condition as this, would have recourse to some severe discipline as a preservative--a discipline requiring close attention to common things, and rigorously excluding every variety of thought which could possibly be considered intellectual. it is strictly true that the three intellectual pursuits--literature, science, and the fine arts--are all of them strong stimulants, and that men are attracted to them by the stimulus they give. but these occupations are morally much nearer to the common level of other occupations than you suppose. there is no doubt a certain intoxication in poetry and painting; but i have seen a tradesman find a fully equivalent intoxication in an addition of figures showing a delightful balance at his banker's. i have seen a young poet intoxicated with the love of poetry; but i have also seen a young mechanical genius on whom the sight of a locomotive acted exactly like a bottle of champagne. everything that is capable of exciting or moving man, everything that fires him with enthusiasm, everything that sustains his energies above the dead level of merely animal existence, may be compared, and not very untruly, to the action of generous wine. the two most powerful mental stimulants--since they overcome even the fear of death--are unquestionably religion and patriotism: ardent states of feeling both of them when they are genuine; yet this ardor has a great utility. it enables men to bear much, to perform much which would be beyond their natural force if it were not sustained by powerful mental stimulants. and so it is in the intellectual life. it is because its labors are so severe that its pleasures are so glorious. the creator of intellectual man set him the most arduous tasks--tasks that required the utmost possible patience, courage, self-discipline, and which at the same time were for the most part, from their very nature, likely to receive only the most meagre and precarious pecuniary reward. therefore, in order that so poor and weak a creature might execute its gigantic works with the energy necessary to their permanence, the labor itself was made intensely attractive and interesting to the few who were fitted for it by their constitution. since their courage could not be maintained by any of the common motives which carry men through ordinary drudgery--since neither wealth nor worldly position was in their prospects, the drudgery they had to go through was to be rewarded by the triumphs of scientific discovery, by the felicities of artistic expression. a divine drunkenness was given to them for their encouragement, surpassing the gift of the grape. but now that i have acknowledged, not ungratefully, the necessity of that noble excitement which is the life of life, it is time for me to add that, in the daily labor of all intellectual workers, much has to be done which requires a robustness of the moral constitution beyond what you appear to be aware of. it is not long since the present bishop of exeter truly affirmed, in an address to a body of students, that if there were not weariness in work, that work was not so thorough-going as it ought to be. "of all work," the bishop said, "that produces results, nine-tenths must be drudgery. there is no work, from the highest to the lowest, which can be done well by any man who is unwilling to make that sacrifice. part of the very nobility of the devotion of the true workman to his work consists in the fact that a man is not daunted by finding that drudgery must be done; and no man can really succeed in any walk of life without a good deal of what in ordinary english is called pluck. that is the condition of all work whatever, and it is the condition of all success. and there is nothing which so truly repays itself as this very perseverance against weariness." you understand, no doubt, that there is drudgery in the work of a lawyer or an accountant, but you imagine that there is no drudgery in that of an artist, or author, or man of science. in these cases you fancy that there is nothing but a pleasant intoxication, like the puffing of tobacco or the sipping of claret after dinner. the bishop sees more accurately. he knows that "of _all_ work that produces results nine-tenths must be drudgery." he makes no exceptions in favor of the arts and sciences; if he had made any such exceptions, they would have proved the absence of culture in himself. real work of all descriptions, even including the composition of poetry (the most intoxicating of all human pursuits), contains drudgery in so large a proportion that considerable moral courage is necessary to carry it to a successful issue. some of the most popular writers of verse have dreaded the labor of composition. wordsworth shrank from it much more sensitively than he did from his prosaic labors as a distributor of stamps. he had that _horreur de la plume_ which is a frequent malady amongst literary men. but we feel, in reading wordsworth, that composition was a serious toil to him--the drudgery is often visible. let me take, then, the case of a writer of verse distinguished especially for fluency and ease--the lightest, gayest, apparently most thoughtless of modern minstrels--the author of "the irish melodies" and "lalla rookh." moore said--i quote from memory and may not give the precise words, but they were to this effect--that although the first shadowy imagining of a new poem was a delicious fool's paradise, the labor of actual composition was something altogether different. he did not, i believe, exactly use the word "drudgery," but his expression implied that there was painful drudgery in the work. when he began to write "lalla rookh" the task was anything but easy to him. he said that he was "at all times a far more slow and painstaking workman than would ever be guessed from the result." for a long time after the conclusion of the agreement with messrs. longman, "though generally at work with a view to this task, he made but very little real progress in it." after many unsatisfactory attempts, finding that his subjects were so slow in kindling his own sympathies, he began to despair of their ever touching the hearts of others. "had this series of disheartening experiments been carried on much further, i must have thrown aside the work in despair." he took the greatest pains in long and laboriously preparing himself by reading. "to form a storehouse, as it were, of illustrations purely oriental, and so familiarize myself with its various treasures that, quick as fancy required the aid of fact in her spiritings, the memory was ready to furnish materials for the spell-work; such was, for a long while, the sole object of my studies." after quoting some opinions favorable to the truth of his oriental coloring, he says: "whatever of vanity there may be in citing such tributes, they show, at least, of what great value, even in poetry, is that prosaic quality, industry, since it was in a slow and laborious collection of small facts that the first foundations of this fanciful romance were laid." other fine arts make equally large claims upon the industry of their professors. we see the charming result, which looks as if it were nothing but pleasure--the mere sensuous gratification of an appetite for melody or color; but no one ever eminently succeeded in music or painting without patient submission to a discipline far from attractive or entertaining. an idea was very prevalent amongst the upper classes in england, between twenty and thirty years ago, that art was not a serious pursuit, and that frenchmen were too frivolous to apply themselves seriously to anything. when, however, the different schools of art in europe came to be exhibited together, the truth began to dawn upon people's minds that the french and belgian schools of painting had a certain superiority over the rest--a superiority of quite a peculiar sort; and when the critics applied themselves to discover the hidden causes of this generally perceived superiority, they found out that it was due in great measure to the patient drudgery submitted to by those foreign artists in their youth. english painters who have attained distinction have gone through a like drudgery, if not in the public _atelier_ at least in secrecy and solitude. mr. john lewis, in reply to an application for a drawing to be reproduced by the autotype process, and published in the _portfolio_, said that his sketches and studies were all in color, but if we liked to examine them we were welcome to select anything that might be successfully photographed. not being in london at the time, i charged an experienced friend to go and see if there were anything that would answer our purpose. soon afterward he wrote: "i have just been to see john lewis, and have come away _astounded_." he had seen the vast foundations of private industry on which the artist's public work had been erected,--innumerable studies in color, wrought with the most perfect care and finish, and all for self-education merely, not for any direct reward in fame. we have all admired the extraordinary power of representation in the little pictures of meissonier; that power was acquired by painting studies _life-size_ for self-instruction, and the artist has sustained his knowledge by persistence in that practice. mulready, between the conception of a new picture and the execution of it, used to give himself a special training for the intended work by painting a study in color of every separate thing that was to form part of the composition. it is useless to go on multiplying these examples, since all great artists, without exception, have been distinguished for their firm faith in steady well-directed labor. this faith was so strong in reynolds that it limited his reasoning powers, and prevented him from assigning their due importance to the inborn natural gifts. not only in their preparations for work, but even in the work itself, do artists undergo drudgery. it is the peculiarity of their work that, more than any other human work, it displays whatever there may be in it of pleasure and felicity, putting the drudgery as much out of sight as possible; but all who know the secrets of the studio are aware of the ceaseless struggles against technical difficulty which are the price of the charms that pleasantly deceive us. the amateur tries to paint in water-color, and finds that the gradation of his sky will not come right; instead of being a sound gradation like that of the heavenly blue, it is all in spots and patches. then he goes to some clever artist who seems to get the right thing with enviable ease. "is my paper good? have my colors been properly ground?" the materials are sound enough, but the artist confesses one of the discouraging little secrets of his craft. "the fact is," he says, "those spots that you complain of happen to all of us, and very troublesome they are, especially in dark tints; the only way is to remove them as patiently as we can, and it sometimes takes several days. if one or two of them remain in spite of us, we turn them into birds." in etching, the most famous practitioners get into messes with the treacherous chemistry of their acids, and need an invincible patience. even méryon was always very anxious when the time came for confiding his work to what he called the _traitresse liqueur_; and whenever i give a commission to an etcher, i am always expecting some such despatch as the following: "plate utterly ruined in the biting. very sorry. will begin another immediately." we know what a dreadful series of mishaps attended our fresco-painters at westminster, and now even the promising water-glass process, in which maclise trusted, shows the bloom of premature decay. the safest and best known of modern processes, simple oil-painting has its own dangers also. the colors sink and alter; they lose their relative values; they lose their pearly purity, their glowing transparence--they turn to buff and black. the fine arts bristle all over with technical difficulties, and are, i will not say the best school of patience in the world, for many other pursuits are also very good schools of patience; but i will say, without much fear of contradiction from anybody acquainted with the subject, that the fine arts offer drudgery enough, and disappointment enough, to be a training both in patience and in humility. in the labor of the line-engraver both these qualities are developed to the pitch of perfect heroism. he sits down to a great surface of steel or copper, and day by day, week after week, month after month, ploughs slowly his marvellous lines. sometimes the picture before him is an agreeable companion; he is in sympathy with the painter; he enjoys every touch that he has to translate. but sometimes, on the contrary, he hates the picture, and engraves it as a professional duty. i happened to call upon a distinguished english engraver--a man of the greatest taste and knowledge, a refined and cultivated critic--and i found him seated at work before a thing which had nothing to do with fine art--a medley of ugly portraits of temperance celebrities on a platform. "ah!" he said to me sadly, "you see the dark side of our profession; fancy sitting down to a desk all day long for two years together with that thing to occupy your thoughts!" how much moral fibre was needed to carry to a successful issue so repulsive a task as that! you may answer that a stone-breaker on the roadside surpasses my line-engraver both in patience and in humility; but whereas the sensitiveness of the stone-breaker has been deadened by his mode of life, the sensitiveness of the engraver has been continually fostered and increased. an ugly picture was torture to his cultivated eye, and he had to bear the torture all day long, like the pain of an irritating disease. still even the line-engraver has secret sources of entertainment to relieve the mortal tedium of his task-work. the picture may be hideous, but the engraver has hidden consolations in the exercise of his wonderful art. he can at least entertain himself with feats of interpretative skill, with the gentle treacheries of improving here and there upon the hatefulness of the intolerable original. he may congratulate himself in the evening, that one more frightful hat or coat has been got rid of; that the tiresome task has been reduced by a space measurable in eights of an inch. the heaviest work which shows progress is not without _one_ element of cheerfulness. there is a great deal of intellectual labor, undergone simply for discipline, which shows no present result that is appreciable, and which therefore requires, in addition to patience and humility, one of the noblest of the moral virtues, faith. of all the toils in which men engage, none are nobler in their origin or their aim than those by which they endeavor to become more wise. pray observe that whenever the desire for greater wisdom is earnest enough to sustain men in these high endeavors, there must be both humility and faith--the humility which acknowledges present insufficiency, the faith that relies upon the mysterious laws which govern our intellectual being. be sure that there has been great moral strength in all who have come to intellectual greatness. during some brief moments of insight the mist has rolled away and they have beheld, like a celestial city, the home of their highest aspirations; but the cloud has gathered round them again, and still in the gloom they have gone steadily forwards, stumbling often, yet maintaining their unconquerable resolution. it is to this sublime persistence of the intellectual in other ages that the world owes the treasures which they won; it is by a like persistence that we may hope to hand them down, augmented, to the future. their intellectual purposes did not weaken their moral nature, but exercised and exalted it. all that was best and highest in the imperfect moral nature of giordano bruno had its source in that noble passion for philosophy, which made him declare that for her sake it was easy to endure labor and pain and exile, since he had found "in brevi labore diuturnam requiem, in levi dolore immensum gaudium, in angusto exilio patriam amplissimam." letter ii. to an undisciplined writer. early indocility of great workers--external discipline only a substitute for inward discipline--necessity for inward discipline--origin of the idea of discipline--authors peculiarly liable to overlook its uses--good examples--sir arthur helps--sainte-beuve--the central authority in the mind--locke's opinion--even the creative faculty may be commanded--charles baudelaire--discipline in common trades and professions--lawyers and surgeons--haller--mental refusals not to be altogether disregarded--the idea of discipline the moral basis of the intellectual life--alexander humboldt. sir arthur helps, in that wise book of his "thoughts upon government," says that "much of the best and greatest work in the world has been done by those who were anything but docile in their youth." he believes that "this bold statement applies not only to the greatest men in science, literature, and art, but also to the greatest men in official life, in diplomacy, and in the general business of the world." many of us who were remarkable for our indocility in boyhood, and remarkable for nothing else, have found much consolation in this passage. it is most agreeable to be told, by a writer very eminent both for wisdom and for culture, that our untowardness was a hopeful sign. another popular modern writer has also encouraged us by giving a long list of dunces who have become illustrious. yet, however flattering it may be to find ourselves in such excellent company, at least so far as the earlier half of life may be concerned, we cannot quite forget the very numerous instances of distinguished persons who began by submitting to the discipline of school and college, and gained honors and reputation there, before encountering the competition of the world. the external discipline applied by schoolmasters is a substitute for that inward discipline which we all so greatly need, and which is absolutely indispensable to culture. whether a boy happens to be a dunce at school or a youth of brilliant promise, his future intellectual career will depend very much on his moral force. the distinguished men who derived so little benefit from early discipline have invariably subjected themselves to a discipline of another kind which prepared them for the labor of their manhood. it may be a pure assumption to say this, but the assumption is confirmed by every instance that is known to me. many eminent men have undergone the discipline of business, many like franklin have been self-disciplined, but i have never heard of a person who had risen to intellectual eminence without voluntary submission to an intellectual discipline of some kind. there are, no doubt, great pleasures attached to the intellectual life, and quite peculiar to it; but these pleasures are the support of discipline and not its negation. they give us the cheerfulness necessary for our work, but they do not excuse us from the work. they are like the cup of coffee served to a soldier on duty, not like the opium which incapacitates for everything but dreaming. i have been led into these observations by a perusal of the new book which you sent me. it has many qualities which in a young writer are full of promise. it is earnest, and lively, and exuberant, but at the same time it is undisciplined. now i believe it may be affirmed, that although there has been much literature in former ages which was both vigorous and undisciplined, still when an age presents, as ours does, living examples of perfect intellectual discipline, whoever falls below them in this respect contents himself with the very kind of inferiority which of all inferiorities is the easiest to avoid. you cannot, by an effort of the will, hope to rival the brilliance of a genius, but you may quite reasonably expect to obtain as complete a control over your own faculties and your own work as any other highly-cultivated person. the origin of discipline is the desire to do not merely our best with the degree of power and knowledge which at the time we do actually happen to possess, but with that which we _might_ possess if we submitted to the necessary training. the powers given to us by nature are little more than a power to become, and this becoming is always conditional on some sort of exercise--what sort we have to discover for ourselves. no class of persons are so liable to overlook the uses of discipline as authors are. anybody can write a book, though few can write that which deserves the name of literature. there are great technical differences between literature and book-making, but few can clearly explain these differences, or detect, in their own case, the absence of the necessary qualities. in painting, the most perfect finish is recognized at a glance, but the mind only can perceive it in the book. it was an odd notion of the authorities to exhibit literature in the international exhibitions; but if they could have made people see the difference between sound and unsound workmanship in the literary craft, they would have rendered a great service to the higher intellectual discipline. sir arthur helps might have served as an example to english writers, because he has certain qualities in which we are grievously deficient. he can say a thing in the words that are most fit and necessary, and then leave it. sainte-beuve would have been another admirable example of self-discipline, especially to frenchmen, who would do well to imitate him in his horror of the _á peu près_. he never began to write about anything until he had cleared the ground well before him. he never spoke about any character or doctrine that he had not bottomed (to use locke's word) as far as he was able. he had an extraordinary aptitude for collecting exactly the sort of material that he needed, for arranging and classifying material, for perceiving its mutual relations. very few frenchmen have had sainte-beuve's intense repugnance to insufficiency of information and inaccuracy of language. few indeed are the french journalists of whom it might be said, as it may be truly said of sainte-beuve, that he never wrote even an article for a newspaper without having subjected his mind to a special training for that particular article. the preparations for one of his _lundis_ were the serious occupation of several laborious days; and before beginning the actual composition, his mind had been disciplined into a state of the most complete readiness, like the fingers of a musician who has been practising a piece before he executes it. the object of intellectual discipline is the establishment of a strong central authority in the mind by which all its powers are regulated and directed as the military forces of a nation are directed by the strategist who arranges the operations of a war. the presence of this strong central authority is made manifest in the unity and proportion of the results; when this authority is absent (it is frequently entirely absent from the minds of undisciplined persons, especially of the female sex), you have a chaos of complete confusion; when the authority without being absent is not strong enough to regulate the lively activity of the intellectual forces, you have too much energy in one direction, too little in another, a brigade where a regiment could have done the work, and light artillery where you want guns of the heaviest calibre. to establish this central authority it is only necessary, in any vigorous and sound mind, to exercise it. without such a central power there is neither liberty of action nor security of possession. "the mind," says locke, "should always be free and ready to turn itself to the variety of objects that occur, and allow them as much consideration as shall, for that time, be thought fit. to be engrossed so by one subject as not to be prevailed on to leave it for another that we judge fitter for our contemplation, is to make it of no use to us. did this state of mind always remain so, every one would, without scruple, give it the name of perfect madness; and whilst it does last, at whatever intervals it returns, such a rotation of thoughts about the same object no more carries us forward toward the attainment of knowledge, than getting upon a mill-horse whilst he jogs on his circular track, would carry a man on a journey." writers of imaginative literature have found in practice that even the creative faculty might be commanded. charles baudelaire, who had the poetical organization with all its worst inconveniencies, said nevertheless that "inspiration is decidedly the sister of daily labor. these two contraries do not exclude each other more than all the other contraries which constitute nature. inspiration obeys like hunger, like digestion, like sleep. there is, no doubt, in the mind a sort of celestial mechanism, of which we need not be ashamed, but we ought to make the best use of it. if we will only live in a resolute contemplation of next day's work, the daily labor will serve inspiration." in cases where discipline is felt to be very difficult, it is generally at the same time felt to be very desirable. george sand complains that although "to overcome the indiscipline of her brain, she had imposed upon herself a regular way of living, and a daily labor, still twenty times out of thirty she catches herself reading or dreaming, or writing something entirely apart from the work in hand." she adds that without this frequent intellectual _flânerie_, she would have acquired information which has been her perpetual but unrealized desire. it is the triumph of discipline to overcome both small and great repugnances. we bring ourselves, by its help, to face petty details that are wearisome, and heavy tasks that are almost appalling. nothing shows the power of discipline more than the application of the mind in the common trades and professions to subjects which have hardly any interest in themselves. lawyers are especially admirable for this. they acquire the faculty of resolutely applying their minds to the dryest documents, with tenacity enough to end in the perfect mastery of their contents; a feat which is utterly beyond the capacity of any undisciplined intellect, however gifted by nature. in the case of lawyers there are frequent intellectual repugnances to be overcome; but surgeons and other men of science have to vanquish a class of repugnances even less within the power of the will--the instinctive physical repugnances. these are often so strong as to seem apparently insurmountable, but they yield to persevering discipline. although haller surpassed his contemporaries in anatomy, and published several important anatomical works, he was troubled at the outset with a horror of dissection beyond what is usual with the inexperienced, and it was only by firm self-discipline that he became an anatomist at all. there is, however, one reserve to be made about discipline, which is this: we ought not to disregard altogether the mind's preferences and refusals, because in most cases they are the indication of our natural powers. they are not so always; many have felt attracted to pursuits for which they had no capacity (this happens continually in literature and the fine arts), whilst others have greatly distinguished themselves in careers which were not of their own choosing, and for which they felt no vocation in their youth. still there exists a certain relation between preference and capacity, which may often safely be relied upon when there are not extrinsic circumstances to attract men or repel them. discipline becomes an evil, and a very serious evil, causing immense losses of special talents to the community, when it overrides the personal preferences entirely. we are less in danger of this evil, however, from the discipline which we impose upon ourselves than from that which is imposed upon us by the opinion of the society in which we live. the intellectual life has this remarkable peculiarity as to discipline, that whilst very severe discipline is indispensable to it, that which it really needs is the obedience to an inward law, an obedience which is not only compatible with revolt against other people's notions of what the intellectual man ought to think and do, but which often directly leads to such revolt as its own inevitable result. in the attempt to subject ourselves to the inward law, we may encounter a class of mental refusals which indicate no congenital incapacity, but prove that the mind has been incapacitated by its acquired habits and its ordinary occupations. i think that it is particularly important to pay attention to this class of mental refusals, and to give them the fullest consideration. suppose the case of a man who has a fine natural capacity for painting, but whose time has been taken up by some profession which has formed in him mental habits entirely different from the mental habits of an artist. the inborn capacity for art might whisper to this man, "what if you were to abandon your profession and turn painter?" but to this suggestion of the inborn capacity the acquired unfitness would, in a man of sense, most probably reply, "no; painting is an art bristling all over with the most alarming technical difficulties, which i am too lazy to overcome; let younger men attack them if they like." here is a mental refusal of a kind which the severest self-disciplinarian ought to listen to. this is nature's way of keeping us to our specialities; she protects us by means of what superficial moralists condemn as one of the minor vices--the disinclination to trouble ourselves without necessity, when the work involves the acquisition of new habits. the moral basis of the intellectual life appears to be the idea of discipline; but the discipline is of a very peculiar kind, and varies with every individual. people of original power have to discover the original discipline that they need. they pass their lives in thoughtfully altering this private rule of conduct as their needs alter, as the legislature of a progressive state makes unceasing alterations in its laws. when we look back upon the years that are gone, this is our bitterest regret, that whilst the precious time, the irrecoverable, was passing by so rapidly, we were intellectually too undisciplined to make the best personal use of all the opportunities that it brought. those men may be truly esteemed happy and fortunate who can say to themselves in the evening of their days--"i had so prepared myself for every successive enterprise, that when the time came for it to be carried into execution my training ensured success." i had thought of some examples, and there are several great men who have left us noble examples of self-discipline; but, in the range and completeness of that discipline, in the foresight to discern what would be wanted, in the humility to perceive that it was wanting, in the resolution that it should _not_ be wanting when the time came that such knowledge or faculty should be called for, one colossal figure so far excels all others that i cannot write down their names with that of alexander humboldt. the world sees the intellectual greatness of such a man, but does not see the substantial moral basis on which the towering structure rose. when i think of his noble dissatisfaction with what he knew; his ceaseless eagerness to know more, and know it better; of the rare combination of teachableness that despised no help (for he accepted without jealousy the aid of everybody who could assist him), with self-reliance that kept him always calm and observant in the midst of personal danger, i know not which is the more magnificent spectacle, the splendor of intellectual light, or the beauty and solidity of the moral constitution that sustained it. letter iii. to a friend who suggested the speculation "which of the moral virtues was most essential to the intellectual life." the most essential virtue is disinterestedness--the other virtues possessed by the opponents of intellectual liberty--the ultramontane party--difficulty of thinking disinterestedly even about the affairs of another nation--english newspapers do not write disinterestedly about foreign affairs--difficulty of disinterestedness in recent history--poets and their readers feel it--fine subjects for poetry in recent events not yet available--even history of past times rarely disinterested--advantages of the study of the dead languages in this respect--physicians do not trust their own judgment about their personal health--the virtue consists in endeavoring to be disinterested. i think there cannot be a doubt that the most essential virtue is disinterestedness. let me tell you, after this decided answer, what are the considerations which have led me to it. i began by taking the other important virtues one by one--industry, perseverance, courage, discipline, humility, and the rest; and then asked myself whether any class of persons possessed and cultivated these virtues who were nevertheless opposed to intellectual liberty. the answer came immediately, that there have in every age been men deservedly respected for these virtues who did all in their power to repress the free action of the intellect. what is called the ultramontane party in the present day includes great numbers of talented adherents who are most industrious, most persevering, who willingly submit to the severest discipline--who are learned, self-denying, and humble enough to accept the most obscure and ill-requited duties. some of these men possess nine-tenths of the qualifications that are necessary to the highest intellectual life--they have brilliant gifts of nature; they are well-educated; they take a delight in the exercise of noble faculties, and yet instead of employing their time and talents to help the intellectual advancement of mankind, they do all in their power to retard it. they have many most respectable virtues, but one is wanting. they have industry, perseverance, discipline, but they have _not_ disinterestedness. i do not mean disinterestedness in its ordinary sense as the absence of selfish care about money. the church of rome has thousands of devoted servants who are content to labor in her cause for stipends so miserable that it is clear they have no selfish aim; whilst they abandon all those possibilities of fortune which exist for every active and enterprising layman. but their thinking can never be disinterested so long as their ruling motive is devotion to the interests of their church. some of them are personally known to me, and we have discussed together many of the greatest questions which agitate the continental nations at the present time. they have plenty of intellectual acumen; but whenever the discussion touches, however remotely, the ecclesiastical interests that are dear to them, they cease to be observers--they become passionate advocates. it is this habit of advocacy which debars them from all elevated speculation about the future of the human race, and which so often induces them to take a side with incapable and retrograde governments, too willingly overlooking their deficiencies in the expectation of services to the cause. their predecessors have impeded, as far as they were able, the early growth of science--not for intellectual reasons, but because they instinctively felt that there was something in the scientific spirit not favorable to those interests which they placed far above the knowledge of mere matter. i have selected the ultramontane party in the church of rome as the most prominent example of a party eminent for many intellectual virtues, and yet opposed to the intellectual life from its own want of disinterestedness. but the same defect exists, to some degree, in every partisan--exists in you and me so far as we are partisans. let us suppose, for example, that we desired to find out the truth about a question much agitated in a neighboring country at the present time--the question whether it would be better for that country to attempt the restoration of its ancient monarchy or to try to consolidate a republican form of government. how difficult it is to think out such a problem disinterestedly, and yet how necessary to the justice of our conclusions that we should think disinterestedly if we pretend to think at all! it is true that we have one circumstance in our favor--we are not french subjects, and this is much. still we are not disinterested, since we know that the settlement of a great political problem such as this, even though on foreign soil, cannot fail to have a powerful influence on opinion in our own country, and consequently upon the institutions of our native land. we are spectators only, it is true; but we are far from being disinterested spectators. and if you desire to measure the exact degree to which we are interested in the result, you need only look at the newspapers. the english newspapers always treat french affairs from the standpoint of their own party. the conservative journalist in england is a monarchist in france, and has no hopes for the republic; the liberal journalist in england believes that the french dynasties are used up, and sees no chance of tranquillity outside of republican institutions. in both cases there is an impediment to the intellectual appreciation of the problem. this difficulty is so strongly felt by those who write and read the sort of literature which aspires to permanence, and which, therefore, ought to have a substantial intellectual basis, that either our distinguished poets choose their subjects in actions long past and half-forgotten, or else, when tempted by present excitement, they produce work which is artistically far inferior to their best. our own generation has witnessed three remarkable events which are poetical in the highest degree. the conquest of the two sicilies by garibaldi is a most perfect subject for a heroic poem; the events which led to the execution of the emperor maximilian and deprived his empress of reason, would, in the hands of a great dramatist, afford the finest possible material for a tragedy; the invasion of france by the germans, the overthrow of napoleon iii., the siege of paris, are an epic ready to hand that only awaits its homer; yet, with the exception of victor hugo, who is far gone in intellectual decadence, no great poet has sung of these things yet. the subjects are as good as can be, but too near. neither poet nor reader is disinterested enough for the intellectual enjoyment of these subjects: the poet would not see his way clearly, the reader would not follow unreservedly. it may be added, however, in this connection, that even past history is hardly ever written disinterestedly. historians write with one eye on the past and the other on the pre-occupations of the present. so far as they do this they fall short of the intellectual standard. an ideally perfect history would tell the pure truth, and all the truth, so far as it was ascertainable. artists are seldom good critics of art, because their own practice biasses them, and they are not disinterested. the few artists who have written soundly about art have succeeded in the difficult task of detaching saying from doing; they have, in fact, become two distinct persons, each oblivious of the other. the strongest of all the reasons in favor of the study of the dead languages and the literatures preserved in them, has always appeared to me to consist in the more perfect disinterestedness with which we moderns can approach them. the men and events are separated from us by so wide an interval, not only of time and locality, but especially of modes of thought, that our passions are not often enlisted, and the intellect is sufficiently free. it may be noted that medical men, who are a scientific class, and therefore more than commonly aware of the great importance of disinterestedness in intellectual action, never trust their own judgment when they feel the approaches of disease. they know that it is difficult for a man, however learned in medicine, to arrive at accurate conclusions about the state of a human body that concerns him so nearly as his own, even although the person who suffers has the advantage of actually experiencing the morbid sensations. to all this you may answer that intellectual disinterestedness seems more an accident of situation than a virtue. the virtue is not to have it, but to seek it in all earnestness; to be ready to accept the truth even when it is most unfavorable to ourselves. i can illustrate my meaning by a reference to a matter of everyday experience. there are people who cannot bear to look into their own accounts from a dread that the clear revelation of figures may be less agreeable to them than the illusions which they cherish. there are others who possess a kind of virtue which enables them to see their own affairs as clearly as if they had no personal interest in them. the weakness of the first is one of the most fatal of intellectual weaknesses; the mental independence of the second is one of the most desirable of intellectual qualities. the endeavor to attain it, or to strengthen it, is a great virtue, and of all the virtues the one most indispensable to the nobility of the intellectual life. note.--the reader may feel some surprise that i have not mentioned honesty as an important intellectual virtue. honesty is of great importance, no doubt, but it appears to be (as to practical effects) included in disinterestedness, and to be less comprehensively useful. there is no reason to suspect the honesty of many political and theological partisans, yet their honesty does not preserve them from the worst intellectual habits, such as the habit of "begging the question," of misrepresenting the arguments on the opposite side, of shutting their eyes to every fact which is not perfectly agreeable to them. the truth is, that mere honesty, though a most respectable and necessary virtue, goes a very little way toward the forming of an effective intellectual character. it is valuable rather in the relations of the intellectual man to the outer world around him, and even here it is dangerous unless tempered by discretion. a perfect disinterestedness would ensure the best effects of honesty, and yet avoid some serious evils, against which honesty is not, in itself, a safeguard. letter iv. to a moralist who said that intellectual culture was not conducive to sexual morality. that the author does not write in the spirit of advocacy--two different kinds of immorality--byron and shelley--a peculiar temptation for the intellectual--a distinguished foreign writer--reaction to coarseness from over-refinement--danger of intellectual excesses--moral utility of culture--the most cultivated classes at the same time the most moral--that men of high intellectual aims have an especially strong reason for morality--m. taine's opinion. a critic in one of the quarterlies once treated me as a feeble defender of my opinions, because i gave due consideration to both sides of a question. he said that, like a wise commander, i capitulated beforehand in case my arguments did not come up for my relief; nay, more, that i gave up my arms in unconditional surrender. to this let me answer, that i have nothing to do with the polemical method, that i do not look upon an opponent as an enemy to be repelled, but as a torch-bearer to be welcomed for any light that he may bring; that i defend nothing, but try to explore everything that lies near enough. you need not expect me, therefore, to defend very vigorously the morality of the intellectual life. an advocate could do it brilliantly; there are plenty of materials, but so clumsy an advocate as your present correspondent would damage the best of causes by unseasonable indiscretions. so i begin by admitting that your accusations are most of them well founded. many intellectual people have led immoral lives, others have led lives which, although in strict conformity to their own theories of morality, were in opposition to the morality of their country and their age. byron is a good instance of the first, and shelley of the second. byron was really and knowingly immoral; shelley, on the other hand, hated what he considered to be immorality, and lived a life as nearly as possible in accordance with the moral ideal in his own conscience; still he did not respect the moral rule of his country, but lived with mary godwin, whilst harriet, his first wife, was still alive. there is a clear distinction between the two cases; yet both have the defect that the person takes in hand the regulation of his own morality, which it is hardly safe for any one to do, considering the prodigious force of passion. i find even in the lives of intellectual people a peculiar temptation to immorality from which others are exempt. it is in their nature to feel an eager desire for intellectual companionship, and yet at the same time to exhaust very rapidly whatever is congenial to them in the intellect of their friends. they feel a strong intellectual attraction to persons of the opposite sex; and the idea of living with a person whose conversation is believed at the time to promise an increasing interest, is attractive in ways of which those who have no such wants can scarcely form a conception. a most distinguished foreign writer, of the female sex, has made a succession of domestic arrangements which, if generally imitated by others, would be subversive of any conceivable system of morality; and yet it is clear in this case that the temptation was chiefly, if not entirely, intellectual. the successive companions of this remarkable woman were all of them men of exceptional intellectual power, and her motive for changing them was an unbridled intellectual curiosity. this is the sort of immorality to which cultivated people are most exposed. it is dangerous to the well-being of a community because it destroys the sense of security on which the idea of the family is founded. if we are to leave our wives when their conversation ceases to be interesting, the foundations of the home will be unsafe. if they are to abandon, us when we are dull, to go away with some livelier and more talkative companion, can we ever hope to retain them permanently? there is another danger which must be looked fairly in the face. when the lives of men are refined beyond the real needs of their organization, nature is very apt to bring about the most extraordinary reactions. thus the most exquisitely delicate artists in literature and painting have frequently had reactions of incredible coarseness. within the châteaubriand of atala there existed an obscene châteaubriand that would burst forth occasionally in talk that no biographer could repeat. i have heard the same thing of the sentimental lamartine. we know that turner, dreamer of enchanted landscapes, took the pleasures of a sailor on the spree. a friend said to me of one of the most exquisite living geniuses: "you can have no conception of the coarseness of his tastes; he associates with the very lowest women, and enjoys their rough brutality." these cases only prove, what i have always willingly admitted, that the intellectual life is not free from certain dangers if we lead it too exclusively. intellectual excesses, by the excitement which they communicate to the whole system, have a direct tendency to drive men into other excesses, and a too great refinement in one direction may produce degrading reactions in another. still the cultivation of the mind, reasonably pursued, is, on the whole, decidedly favorable to morality; and we may easily understand that it should be so, when we remember that people have recourse to sensual indulgences simply from a desire for excitement, whilst intellectual pursuits supply excitement of a more innocent kind and in the utmost variety and abundance. if, instead of taking a few individual instances, you broadly observe whole classes, you will recognize the moral utility of culture. the most cultivated classes in our own country are also the most moral, and these classes have advanced in morality at the same time that they have advanced in culture. english gentlemen of the present day are superior to their forefathers whom fielding described; they are better educated, and they read more; they are at the same time both more sober and more chaste. i may add that intellectual men have peculiar and most powerful reasons for avoiding the excesses of immorality, reasons which to any one who has a noble ambition are quite enough to encourage him in self-control. those excesses are the gradual self-destruction of the intellectual forces, for they weaken the spring of the mind, not leaving it well enough to face the drudgery that is inevitable in every career. even in cases where they do not immediately lead to visible imbecility, they make the man less efficient and less capable than he might have been; and all experienced wrestlers with fate and fortune know well that success has often, at the critical time, depended upon some very trifling advantage which the slightest diminution of power would have lost to them. no one knows the full immensity of the difference between having power enough to make a little headway against obstacles, and just falling short of the power which is necessary at the time. in every great intellectual career there are situations like that of a steamer with a storm-wind directly against her and an iron-bound coast behind. if the engines are strong enough to gain an inch an hour she is safe, but if they lose there is no hope. intellectual successes are so rewarding that they are worth any sacrifice of pleasure; the sense of defeat is so humiliating that fair venus herself could not offer a consolation for it. an ambitious man will govern himself for the sake of his ambition, and withstand the seductions of the senses. can he be ever strong enough, can his brain ever be lucid enough for the immensity of the task before him? "le jeune homme," says m. taine, "ignore qu'il n'y a pas de pire déperdition de forces, que de tels commerces abaissent le coeur, qu'après dix ans d'une vie pareille il aura perdu la moitié de sa volonté, que ses pensées auront un arrière-goût habituel d'amertume et de tristesse, que son ressort intérieur sera amolli ou faussé. il s'excuse à ses propres yeux, en se disant qu'un homme doit tout toucher pour tout connaître. de fait, il apprend la vie, mais bien souvent aussi il perd l'énergie, la chaleur d'âme, la capacité d'agir, et à trente ans il n'est plus bon qu'à faire un employé, un dilettante, ou un rentier." part iii. _of education._ letter i. to a friend who recommended the author to learn this thing and that. lesson learned from a cook--the ingredients of knowledge--importance of proportion in the ingredients--case of an english author--two landscape painters--the unity and charm of character often dependent upon the limitations of culture--the burden of knowledge may diminish the energy of action--difficulty of suggesting a safe rule for the selection of our knowledge--men qualified for their work by ignorance as well as by knowledge--men remarkable for the extent of their studies--franz woepke--goethe--hebrew proverb. i happened one day to converse with an excellent french cook about the delicate art which he professed, and he comprised the whole of it under two heads--the knowledge of the mutual influences of ingredients, and the judicious management of heat. it struck me that there existed a very close analogy between cookery and education; and, on following out the subject in my own way, i found that what he told me suggested several considerations of the very highest importance in the culture of the human intellect. amongst the dishes for which my friend had a deserved reputation was a certain _gâteau de foie_ which had a very exquisite flavor. the principal ingredient, not in quantity hut in power, was the liver of a fowl; but there were several other ingredients also, and amongst these a leaf or two of parsley. he told me that the influence of the parsley was a good illustration of his theory about his art. if the parsley were omitted, the flavor he aimed at was not produced at all; but, on the other hand, if the quantity of parsley was in the least excessive, then the _gâteau_ instead of being a delicacy for _gourmets_ became an uneatable mess. perceiving that i was really interested in the subject, he kindly promised a practical evidence of his doctrine, and the next day intentionally spoiled his dish by a trifling addition of parsley. he had not exaggerated the consequences; the delicate flavor entirely departed, and left a nauseous bitterness in its place, like the remembrance of an ill-spent youth. and so it is, i thought, with the different ingredients of knowledge which are so eagerly and indiscriminately recommended. we are told that we ought to learn this thing and that, as if every new ingredient did not affect the whole flavor of the mind. there is a sort of intellectual chemistry which is quite as marvellous as material chemistry, and a thousand times more difficult to observe. one general truth may, however, be relied upon as surely and permanently our own. it is true that everything we learn affects the _whole_ character of the mind. consider how incalculably important becomes the question of proportion in our knowledge, and how that which we are is dependent as much upon our ignorance as our science. what we call ignorance is only a smaller proportion--what we call science only a larger. the larger quantity is recommended as an unquestionable good, but the goodness of it is entirely dependent on the mental product that we want. aristocracies have always instinctively felt this, and have decided that a gentleman ought not to know too much of certain arts and sciences. the character which they had accepted as their ideal would have been destroyed by indiscriminate additions to those ingredients of which long experience had fixed the exact proportions. the same feeling is strong in the various professions: there is an apprehension that the disproportionate knowledge may destroy the professional nature. the less intelligent members of the profession will tell you that they dread an unprofessional use of time; but the more thoughtful are not so apprehensive about hours and days, _they_ dread that sure transformation of the whole intellect which follows every increase of knowledge. i knew an english author who by great care and labor had succeeded in forming a style which harmonized quite perfectly with the character of his thinking, and served as an unfailing means of communication with his readers. every one recognized its simple ease and charm, and he might have gone on writing with that enviable facility had he not determined to study locke's philosophical compositions. shortly afterwards my friend's style suddenly lost its grace; he began to write with difficulty, and what he wrote was unpleasantly difficult to read. even the thinking was no longer his own thinking. having been in too close communication with a writer who was not a literary artist, his own art had deteriorated in consequence. i could mention an english landscape painter who diminished the pictorial excellence of his works by taking too much interest in geology. his landscapes became geological illustrations, and no longer held together pictorially. another landscape painter, who began by taking a healthy delight in the beauty of natural scenery, became morbidly religious after an illness, and thenceforth passed by the loveliest european scenery as comparatively unworthy of his attention, to go and make ugly pictures of places that had sacred associations. for people who produce nothing these risks appear to be less serious; and yet there have been admirable characters, not productive, whose admirableness might have been lessened by the addition of certain kinds of learning. the last generation of the english country aristocracy was particularly rich in characters whose unity and charm was dependent upon the limitations of their culture, and which would have been entirely altered, perhaps not for the better, by simply knowing a science or a literature that was closed to them. abundant illustrations might be collected in evidence of the well-known truth that the burden of knowledge may diminish the energy of action; but this is rather outside of what we are considering, which is the influence of knowledge upon the intellectual and not the active life. i regret very much not to be able to suggest anything like a safe rule for the selection of our knowledge. the most rational one which has been hit upon as yet appears to be a simple confidence in the feeling that we inwardly want to know. if i feel the inward want for a certain kind of knowledge, it may perhaps be presumed that it would be good for me; but even this feeling is not perfectly reliable, since people are often curious about things that do not closely concern them, whilst they neglect what it is most important for them to ascertain. all that i venture to insist upon is, that we cannot learn any new thing without changing our whole intellectual composition as a chemical compound is changed by another ingredient; that the mere addition of knowledge may be good for us or bad for us; and that whether it will be good or bad is usually a more obscure problem than the enthusiasm of educators will allow. that depends entirely on the work we have to do. men are qualified for their work by knowledge, but they are also negatively qualified for it by their ignorance. nature herself appears to take care that the workman shall not know too much--she keeps him steadily to his task; fixes him in one place mentally if not corporeally, and conquers his restlessness by fatigue. as we are bound to a little planet, and hindered by impassable gulfs of space from wandering in stars where we have no business, so we are kept by the force of circumstances to the limited studies that belong to us. if we have any kind of efficiency, very much of it is owing to our narrowness, which is favorable to a powerful individuality. sometimes, it is true, we meet with instances of men remarkable for the extent of their studies. franz woepke, who died in , was an extraordinary example of this kind. in the course of a short life he became, although unknown, a prodigy of various learning. his friend m. taine says that he was erudite in many eruditions. his favorite pursuit was the history of mathematics, but as auxiliaries he had learned arabic, and persian, and sanskrit. he was classically educated, he wrote and spoke the principal modern languages easily and correctly;[ ] his printed works are in three languages. he had lived in several nations, and known their leading men of science. and yet this astonishing list of acquirements may be reduced to the exercise of two decided and natural tastes. franz woepke had the gift of the linguist and an interest in mathematics, the first serving as auxiliary to the second. goethe said that "a vast abundance of objects must lie before us ere we can think upon them." woepke felt the need of this abundance, but he did not go out of his way to find it. the objectionable seeking after knowledge is the seeking after the knowledge which does not belong to us. in vain you urge me to go in quest of sciences for which i have no natural aptitude. would you have me act like that foolish camel in the hebrew proverb, which in going to seek horns lost his ears? letter ii. to a friend who studied many things. men cannot restrict themselves in learning--description of a latin scholar of two generations since--what is attempted by a cultivated contemporary--advantages of a more restricted field--privilege of instant admission--many pursuits cannot be kept up simultaneously--the deterioration of knowledge through neglect--what it really is--the only available knowledge that which we habitually use--difficulty in modern education--that it is inevitably a beginning of many things and no more--the simpler education of an ancient greek--that of alcibiades--how the romans were situated as to this--the privilege of limited studies belongs to the earlier ages--they learned and we attempt to learn. it appears to be henceforth inevitable that men should be unable to restrict themselves to one or two pursuits, and you who are in most respects a very perfect specimen of what the age naturally produces in the way of culture, have studied subjects so many and so various that a mere catalogue of them would astonish your grandfather if his shade could revisit his old home. and yet your grandfather was considered a very highly cultivated gentleman according to the ideas and requirements of his time. he was an elegant scholar, but in latin chiefly, for he said that he never read greek easily, and indeed he abandoned that language entirely on leaving the university. but his latin, from daily use and practice (for he let no day slip by without reading some ancient author) and from the thoroughness and accuracy of his scholarship, was always as ready for service as the saddled steeds of branksome. i think he got more culture, more of the best effects of good literature, out of that one language than some polyglots get out of a dozen. he knew no modern tongue, he had not even the common pretension to read a little french, and in his day hardly anybody studied german. he had no scientific training of any kind except mathematics, in which i have heard him say that he had never been proficient. of the fine arts his ignorance was complete, so complete that i doubt if he could have distinguished rigaud from reynolds, and he had never played upon any musical instrument. the leisure which he enjoyed during a long and tranquil existence he gave entirely to latin and english literature, but of the two he enjoyed latin the more, not with the preference of a pedant, but because it carried him more completely out of the present, and gave him the refreshment of a more perfect change. he produced on all who knew him the impression of a cultivated gentleman, which he was. there is only an interval of one generation between you and that good latinist, but how wide is the difference in your intellectual regimen? you have studied--well, here is a little list of what you have studied, and probably even this is not complete:-- greek, latin, french, german, italian, mathematics, chemistry, mineralogy, geology, botany, the theory of music, the practice of music on two instruments, much theory about painting, the practice of painting in oil and water-color, photography, etching on copper, etc., etc., etc. that is to say, six literatures (including english), six sciences (counting mineralogy and geology as one), and five branches or departments of the fine arts. omitting english literature from our total, as that may be considered to come by nature to an englishman, though any real proficiency in it costs the leisure of years, we have here no less than sixteen different pursuits. if you like to merge the theory of music and painting in the practice of those arts, though as a branch of study the theory is really distinct, we have still fourteen pursuits, any one of which is enough to occupy the whole of one man's time. if you gave some time daily to each of these pursuits, you could scarcely give more than half an hour, even supposing that you had no professional occupation, and that you had no favorite study, absorbing time to the detriment of the rest. now your grandfather, though he would be considered quite an ignorant country gentleman in these days, had in reality certain intellectual advantages over his more accomplished descendant. in the first place, he entirely escaped the sense of pressure, the feeling of not having time enough to do what he wanted to do. he accumulated his learning as quietly as a stout lady accumulates her fat, by the daily satisfaction of his appetite. and at the same time that he escaped the sense of pressure, he escaped also the miserable sense of imperfection. of course he did not know latin like an ancient roman, but then he never met with any ancient romans to humiliate him by too rapid and half-intelligible conversation. he met the best latinists of his day; and felt himself a master amongst masters. every time he went into his study, to pass delightful hours with the noble authors that he loved, he knew that his admission into that august society would be immediate and complete. he had to wait in no antechamber of mere linguistic difficulty, but passed at once into the atmosphere of ancient thought, and breathed its delicate perfume. in this great privilege of instant admission the man of one study has always the advantage of men more variously cultivated. their misfortune is to be perpetually waiting in antechambers, and losing time in them. grammars and dictionaries are antechambers, bad drawing and bad coloring are antechambers, musical practice with imperfect intonation is an antechamber. and the worst is that even when a man, like yourself for instance, of very various culture, has at one time fairly penetrated beyond the antechamber, he is not sure of admittance a year hence, because in the mean time the door may have been closed against him. the rule of each separate hall or saloon of knowledge is that he alone is to be instantly admitted who calls there every day. the man of various pursuits does not, in any case, keep them up simultaneously; he is led by inclination or compelled by necessity to give predominance to one or another. if you have fifteen different pursuits, ten of them, at any given time, will be lying by neglected. the metaphor commonly used in reference to neglected pursuits is borrowed from the oxidation of metal; it is said that they become rusty. this metaphor is too mild to be exact. rust on metal, even on polished steel, is easily guarded against by care, and a gun or a knife does not need to be constantly used to keep it from being pitted. the gunsmith and the cutler know how to keep these things, in great quantity, without using them at all. but no one can retain knowledge without using it. the metaphor fails still more seriously in perpetuating a false conception of the deterioration of knowledge through neglect. it is not simply a loss of polish which takes place, not a loss of mere surface-beauty, but absolute disorganization, like the disorganization of a carriage when the axle-tree is taken away. a rusty thing may still be used, but a disorganized thing cannot be used until the lost organ has been replaced. there is no equivalent, amongst ordinary material losses, to the intellectual loss that we incur by ceasing from a pursuit. but we may consider neglect as an enemy who carries away the girths from our saddles, the bits from our bridles, the oars from our boats, and one wheel from each of our carriages, leaving us indeed still nominally possessors of all these aids to locomotion, but practically in the same position as if we were entirely without them. and as an enemy counts upon the delays caused by these vexations to execute his designs whilst we are helpless, so whilst we are laboring to replace the lost parts of our knowledge the occasion slips by when we most need it. the only knowledge which is available when it is wanted is that which we habitually use. studies which from their nature cannot be commonly used are always retained with great difficulty. the study of anatomy is perhaps the best instance of this; every one who has attempted it knows with what difficulty it is kept by the memory. anatomists say that it has to be learned and forgotten six times before it can be counted as a possession. this is because anatomy lies so much outside of what is needed for ordinary life that very few people are ever called upon to use it except during the hours when they are actually studying it. the few who need it every day remember is as easily as a man remembers the language of the country which he inhabits. the workmen in the establishment at saint aubin d'Écroville, where dr. auzoux manufactures his wonderful anatomical models, are as familiar with anatomy as a painter is with the colors on his palette. _they_ never forget it. _their_ knowledge is never made practically valueless by some yawning hiatus, causing temporary incompetence and delay. to have one favorite study and live in it with happy familiarity, and cultivate every portion of it diligently and lovingly, as a small yeoman proprietor cultivates his own land, this, as to study, at least, is the most enviable intellectual life. but there is another side to the question which has to be considered. the first difficulty for us is in our education. modern education is a beginning of many things, and it is little more than a beginning. "my notion of educating my boy," said a rich englishman, "is not to make him particularly clever at anything during his minority, but to make him overcome the rudimentary difficulties of many things, so that when he selects for himself his own line of culture in the future, it cannot be altogether strange to him, whatever line he may happen to select." a modern father usually allows his son to learn many things from a feeling of timidity about making a choice, if only one thing had to be chosen. he might so easily make a wrong choice! when the inheritance of the human race was less rich, there was no embarrassment of that kind. look at the education of an ancient greek, at the education of one of the most celebrated athenians, a man living in the most refined and intellectual society, himself mentally and bodily the perfect type of his splendid race, an eloquent and powerful speaker, a most capable commander both by sea and land--look at the education of the brilliant alcibiades! when socrates gave the list of the things that alcibiades had learned, alcibiades could add to it no other even nominal accomplishment, and what a meagre, short catalogue it was! "but indeed i also pretty accurately know what thou hast learned; thou wilt tell me if anything has escaped my notice. thou hast learned then thy letters ([greek: grammata]), to play on the cithara ([greek: kitharizein]) and to wrestle ([greek: palaiein]), for thou hast not cared to learn to play upon the flute. this is all that thou hast learned, unless something has escaped me." the [greek: grammata] which alcibiades had learned with a master meant reading and writing, for he expressly says later on, that as for speaking greek, [greek: hellênizein], he learned that of no other master than the people. an english education equivalent to that of alcibiades would therefore consist of reading and writing, wrestling and guitar-playing, the last accomplishment being limited to very simple music. such an education was possible to an athenian (though it is fair to add that socrates does not seem to have thought much of it) because a man situated as alcibiades was situated in the intellectual history of the world, had no past behind him which deserved his attention more than the present which surrounded him. simply to speak greek, [greek: hellênizein], was really then the most precious of all accomplishments, and the fact that alcibiades came by it easily does not lessen its value. amongst a people like the athenians, fond of intellectual talk, conversation was one of the best and readiest means of informing the mind, and certainly the very best means of developing it. it was not a slight advantage to speak the language of socrates, and have him for a companion. the cleverest and most accomplished romans were situated rather more like ourselves, or at least as we should be situated if we had not to learn latin and greek, and if there were no modern language worth studying except french. they went to greece to perfect themselves in greek, and improve their accent, just as our young gentlemen go to paris or touraine. still, the burden of the past was comparatively light upon their shoulders. an englishman who had attempted no more than they were bound to attempt might be a scholar, but he would not be considered so he might be a thorough scholar in french and english,--that is, he might possess the cream of two great literatures,--but he would be spoken of as a person of defective education. it is the fashion, for example, to speak of sir walter scott as a half-educated man, because he did not know much greek, yet sir walter had studied german with success, and with his habit of extensive reading, and his immense memory, certainly knew incomparably more about the generations which preceded him than horace knew of those which preceded the augustan era. the privilege of limiting their studies, from the beginning, to one or two branches of knowledge, belonged to earlier ages, and every successive accumulation of the world's knowledge has gradually lessened it. schoolboys in our time are expected to know more, or to have attempted to learn more, than the most brilliant intellectual leaders of former times. what english parent, in easy circumstances, would be content that his son should have the education of alcibiades, or an education accurately corresponding to that of horace, or to that which sufficed for shakespeare? yet although the burdens laid upon the memory have been steadily augmented, its powers have not increased. our brains are not better constituted than those of our forefathers, although where they learned one thing we attempt to learn six. they learned and we attempt to learn. the only hope for us is to make a selection from the attempts of our too heavily burdened youth, and in those selected studies to emulate in after-life the thoroughness of our forefathers. letter iii to a friend who studied many things. an idealized portrait--the scholars of the sixteenth century--isolated students--french students of english when isolated from englishmen--how one of them read tennyson--importance of sounds--illusions of scholarship--difficulty of appreciating the sense--that latin may still be made a spoken language--the early education of montaigne--a contemporary instance--dream of a latin island--rapid corruption of a language taught artificially. in your answer to my letter about the multiplicity of modern studies you tell me that my portrait of your grandfather is considerably idealized, and that, notwithstanding all the respect which you owe to his memory, you have convincing proof in his manuscript annotations to latin authors that his scholarship cannot have been quite so thorough as i represented it. you convey, moreover, though with perfect modesty in form, the idea that you believe your own latin superior to your grandfather's, notwithstanding the far greater variety of your studies. let me confess that i _did_ somewhat idealize that description of your grandfather's intellectual life. i described rather a life which might have been than a life which actually was. and even this "might have been" is problematical. it may be doubted whether any modern has ever really mastered latin. the most that can be said is that a man situated like your grandfather, without a profession, without our present temptation to scatter effort in many pursuits, and who made latin scholarship his unique intellectual purpose, would probably go nearer to a satisfactory degree of attainment than we whose time and strength have been divided into so many fragments. but the picture of a perfect modern latinist is purely ideal, and the prevalent notion of high attainment in a dead language is not fixed enough to be a standard, whilst if it were fixed it would certainly be a very low standard. the scholars of this century do not write latin except as a mere exercise; they do not write books in latin, and they never speak it at all. they do not use the language actively; they only read it, which is not really using it, but only seeing how other men have used it. there is the same difference between reading a language and writing or speaking it that there is between looking at pictures intelligently and painting them. the scholars of the sixteenth century spoke latin habitually, and wrote it with ease and fluency. "nicholas grouchy," says montaigne, "who wrote a book _de comitiis romanorum_; william guerente, who has written a commentary upon aristotle; george buchanan, that great scotch poet; and marc anthony muret, whom both france and italy have acknowledged for the best orator of his time, my domestic tutors (at college), have all of them often told me that i had in my infancy that language so very fluent and ready that they were afraid to enter into discourse with me." this passage is interesting for two reasons; it shows that the scholars of that age spoke latin; but it proves at the same time that they cannot have been really masters of the language, since they were "afraid to enter into discourse" with a clever child. fancy an englishman who professed to be a french scholar and yet "was afraid to enter into discourse" with a french boy, for fear he should speak too quickly! the position of these scholars relatively to latin was in fact too isolated for it to have been possible that they should reach the point of mastery. suppose a society of frenchmen, in some secluded little french village where no englishman ever penetrates, and that these frenchmen learn english from dictionaries, and set themselves to speak english with each other, without anybody to teach them the colloquial language or its pronunciation, without ever once hearing the sound of it from english lips, what sort of english would they create amongst themselves? this is a question that i happen to be able to answer very accurately, because i have known two frenchmen who studied english literature just as the frenchmen of the sixteenth century studied the literature of ancient rome. one of them, especially, had attained what would certainly in the case of a dead language be considered a very high degree of scholarship indeed. most of our great authors were known to him, even down to the close critical comparison of different readings. aided by the most powerful memory i ever knew, he had amassed such stores that the acquisitions, even of cultivated englishmen, would in many cases have appeared inconsiderable beside them. but he could not write or speak english in a manner tolerable to an englishman; and although he knew nearly all the words in the language, it was dictionary knowledge, and so different from an englishman's apprehension of the same words that it was only a sort of pseudo-english that he knew, and not our living tongue. his appreciation of our authors, especially of our poets, differed so widely from english criticism and english feeling that it was evident he did not understand them as we understand them. two things especially proved this: he frequently mistook declamatory versification of the most mediocre quality for poetry of an elevated order; whilst, on the other hand, his ear failed to perceive the music of the musical poets, as byron and tennyson. how _could_ he hear their music, he to whom our english sounds were all unknown? here, for example, is the way he read "claribel:"-- "at ev ze bittle bommess azvart ze zeeket lon at none ze veeld be ommess aboot ze most edston at meedneeg ze mon commess an lokez dovn alon ere songg ze lintveet svelless ze clirvoic-ed mavi dvelless ze fledgling srost lispess ze slombroos vav ootvelless ze babblang ronnel creespess ze ollov grot replee-ess vere claribel lovlee-ess." this, as nearly as i have been able to render it in english spelling, was the way in which a french gentleman of really high culture was accustomed to read english poetry to himself. is it surprising that he should have failed to appreciate the music of our musical verse? he did not, however, seem to be aware that there existed any obstacle to the accuracy of his decisions, but gave his opinion with a good deal of authority, which might have surprised me had i not so frequently heard latin scholars do exactly the same thing. my french friend read "claribel" in a ridiculous manner; but english scholars all read latin poetry in a manner not less ridiculous. you laugh to hear "claribel" read with a foreign pronunciation, and you see at once the absurdity of affecting to judge of it as poetry before the reader has learned to pronounce the sounds; but you do not laugh to hear latin poetry read with a foreign pronunciation, and you do not perceive that we are all of us disqualified, by our profound ignorance of the pronunciation of the ancient romans, for any competent criticism of their verse. in all poetry, in all oratory, in much of the best and most artistic prose-writing also, sound has a great influence upon sense: a great deal is conveyed by it, especially in the way of feeling. if we do not thoroughly know and practise the right pronunciation (and by the right pronunciation i mean that which the author himself _thought in_ whilst he wrote), we miss those delicate tones and cadences which are in literature like the modulations of the voice in speech. nor can we properly appreciate the artistic choice of beautiful names for persons and places unless we know the sounds of them quite accurately, and have already in our minds the associations belonging to the sounds. names which are selected with the greatest care by our english poets, and which hold their place like jewels on the finely-wrought texture of the verse, lose all their value when they are read with a vicious foreign pronunciation. so it must be with latin poetry when read by an englishman, and it is probable that we are really quite insensible to the delicate art of verbal selection as it was practised by the most consummate masters of antiquity. i know that scholars think that they hear the roman music still; but this is one of the illusions of scholarship. in each country latin scholars have adopted a conventional style of reading, and the sounds which are in conformity with that style seem to them to be musical, whilst other than the accepted sounds seem ridiculous, and grate harshly on the unaccustomed ear. the music which the englishman hears, or imagines that he hears, in the language of ancient rome, is certainly not the music which the roman authors intended to note in words. it is as if my frenchman, having read "claribel" in his own way, had affirmed that he heard the music of the verse. if he heard music at all, it was not tennyson's. permit me to add a few observations about sense. my french friend certainly understood english in a very remarkable manner for a student who had never visited our country; he knew the dictionary meaning of every word he encountered, and yet there ever remained between him and our english tongue a barrier or wall of separation, hard to define, but easy to perceive. in the true deep sense he never understood the language. he studied it, laid regular siege to it, mastered it to all appearance, yet remained, to the end, outside of it. his observations, and especially his unfavorable criticisms, proved this quite conclusively. expressions often appeared to him faulty, in which no english reader would see anything to remark upon; it may be added that (by way of compensation) he was unable to appreciate the oddity of those intentionally quaint turns of expression which are invented by the craft of humorists. it may even be doubted whether his english was of any ascertainable use to him. he might probably have come as near to an understanding of our authors by the help of translations, and he could not converse in english, for the spoken language was entirely unintelligible to him. an acquisition of this kind seems scarcely an adequate reward for the labor that it costs. compared with living englishmen my french friend was nowhere, but if english had been a dead language, he would have been looked up to as a very eminent scholar, and would have occupied a professor's chair in the university. a little more life might be given to the study of latin by making it a spoken language. boys might be taught to speak latin in their schooldays with the modern roman pronunciation, which, though probably a deviation from the ancient, is certainly nearer to it than our own. if colloquial latin were made a subject of special research, it is likely that a sufficiently rich phrase-book might be constructed from the plays. if this plan were pursued throughout europe (always adopting the roman pronunciation) all educated men would possess a common tongue which might be enriched to suit modern requirements without any serious departure from classical construction. the want of such a system as this was painfully felt at the council of the vatican, where the assembled prelates discovered that their latin was of no practical use, although the roman catholic clergy employ latin more habitually than any other body of men in the world. that a modern may be taught to think in latin, is proved by the early education of montaigne, and i may mention a much more recent instance. my brother-in-law told me that, in the spring of , a friend of his had come to stay with him accompanied by his little son, a boy seven years old. this child spoke latin with the utmost fluency, and he spoke nothing else. what i am going to suggest is a utopian dream, but let us suppose that a hundred fathers could be found in europe, all of this way of thinking, all resolved to submit to some inconvenience in order that their sons might speak latin as a living language. a small island might be rented near the coast of italy, and in that island latin alone might be permitted. just as the successive governments of france maintain the establishments of sèvres and the gobelins to keep the manufactures of porcelain and tapestry up to a recognized high standard of excellence, so this latin island might be maintained to give more vivacity to scholarship. if there were but one little corner of ground on the wide earth where pure latin was constantly spoken, our knowledge of the classic writers would become far more sympathetically intimate. after living in the latin island we should think in latin as we read, and read without translating. but this is dreaming. it is too certain that on returning from the latin island into the atmosphere of modern colleges an evil change would come over our young latinists like that which came upon the young montaigne when his father sent him to the college of guienne, "at that time the best and most flourishing in france." montaigne tells us that, notwithstanding all his father's precautions, the place "was a college still." "my latin," he adds, "_immediately grew corrupt, and by discontinuance i have since lost all manner of use of it._" if it were the custom to speak latin, it would be the custom to speak it badly; and a master of the language would have to conform to the evil usages around him. our present state of ignorance has the charm of being silent, except when old-fashioned gentlemen in the house of commons quote poetry which they cannot pronounce to hearers who cannot understand it. note.--an english orator quoted from cicero the sentence "non intelligunt homines quam magnum vectigal sit parsimonia." he made the second vowel in _vectigal_ short, and the house laughed at him; he tried again and pronounced it with the long sound of the english _i_, on which the critical body he addressed was perfectly satisfied. but if a roman had been present it is probable that, of the two, the short english _i_ would have astonished his ears the less, for our short _i_ does bear some resemblance to the southern _i_ whereas our long i resembles no single letter in any alphabet of the latin family of languages. we are scrupulously careful to avoid what we call false quantities, we are quite utterly and ignorantly unscrupulous about false sounds. one of the best instances is the well-known "veni, vidi, vici," which we pronounce very much as if it had been written _vinai_, _vaidai_, _vaisai_, in italian letters. letter iv. to a student of literature. studies, whatever they may be, always considered, by some a waste of time--the classical languages--the higher mathematics--the accomplishments--indirect uses of different studies--influence of music--studies indirectly useful to authors--what induced mr. roscoe to write the lives of lorenzo de' medici and leo x. whatever you study, some one will consider that particular study a foolish waste of time. if you were to abandon successively every subject of intellectual labor which had, in its turn, been condemned by some adviser as useless, the result would be simple intellectual nakedness. the classical languages, to begin with, have long been considered useless by the majority of practical people--and pray, what to shopkeepers, doctors, attorneys, artists, can be the use of the higher mathematics? and if these studies, which have been conventionally classed as serious studies, are considered unnecessary notwithstanding the tremendous authority of custom, how much the more are those studies exposed to a like contempt which belong to the category of accomplishments! what is the use of drawing, for it ends in a worthless sketch? why should we study music when after wasting a thousand hours the amateur cannot satisfy the ear? a _quoi bon_ modern languages when the accomplishment only enables us to call a waiter in french or german who is sure to answer us in english? and what, when it is not your trade, can be the good of dissecting animals or plants? to all questionings of this kind there is but one reply. we work for culture. we work to enlarge the intelligence, and to make it a better and more effective instrument. this is our main purpose; but it may be added that even for our special labors it is always difficult to say beforehand exactly what will turn out in the end to be most useful. what, in appearance, can be more entirely outside the work of a landscape painter than the study of ancient history? and yet i can show you how an interest in ancient history might indirectly be of great service to a landscape painter. it would make him profoundly feel the human associations of many localities which to an ignorant man would be devoid of interest or meaning; and this human interest in the scenes where great events have taken place, or which have been distinguished by the habitation of illustrious men in other ages, is in fact one of the great fundamental motives of landscape painting. it has been very much questioned, especially by foreign critics, whether the interest in botany which is taken by some of the more cultivated english landscape painters is not for them a false direction and wrong employment of the mind; but a landscape painter may feel his interest in vegetation infinitely increased by the accurate knowledge of its laws, and such an increase of interest would make him work more zealously, and with less danger of weariness and _ennui_, besides being a very useful help to the memory in retaining the authentic vegetable forms. it may seem more difficult to show the possible utility of a study apparently so entirely outside of other studies as music is: and yet music has an important influence on the whole of our emotional nature, and indirectly upon expression of all kinds. he who has once learned the self-control of the musician, the use of _piano_ and _forte_, each in its right place, when to be lightly swift or majestically slow, and especially how to keep to the key once chosen till the right time has come for changing it; he who has once learned this knows the secret of the arts. no painter, writer, orator, who had the power and judgment of a thoroughly cultivated musician, could sin against the broad principles of taste. more than all other men have authors reason to appreciate the indirect utilities of knowledge that is apparently irrelevant. who can tell what knowledge will be of most use to _them_? even the very greatest of authors are indebted to miscellaneous reading, often in several different languages, for the suggestion of their most original works, and for the light which has kindled many a shining thought of their own. and authors who seem to have less need than others of an outward help, poets whose compositions might appear to be chiefly inventive and emotional, novelists who are free from the restraints and the researches of the historian, work up what they know into what they write; so that if you could remove every line which is based on studies outside the strict limits of their art, you would blot out half their compositions. take the antiquarian element out of scott, and see how many of his works could never have been written. remove from goldsmith's brain the recollection of his wayward studies and strange experiences, and you would remove the rich material of the "traveller" and the essays, and mutilate even the immortal "vicar of wakefield." without a classical education and foreign travel, byron would not have composed "childe harold;" without the most catholic interest in the literature of all the ages, and of many different peoples from the north sea to the mediterranean, our contemporary william morris would never have conceived, and could not have executed, that strong work "the earthly paradise." it may not seem necessary to learn italian, yet mr. roscoe's celebrity as an author was due in the first place to his private fondness for italian literature. he did not learn italian in order that he might write his biographies, but he wrote about lorenzo and leo because he had mastered italian, and because the language led him to take an interest in the greatest house of florence. the way in which authors are led by their favorite studies indirectly to the great performance of their lives has never been more clearly illustrated than in this instance. when william roscoe was a young man he had for his friend francis holden, nephew of mr. richard holden, a schoolmaster in liverpool. francis holden was a young man of uncommon culture, having at the same time really sound scholarship in several languages, and an ardent enthusiasm for literature. he urged roscoe to study languages, and used especially, in their evening walks together, to repeat to him passages from the noblest poets of italy. in this way roscoe was led to attempt italian, and, having once begun, went on till he had mastered it. "it was in the course of these studies," says his biographer, "that he first formed the idea of writing the life of lorenzo de' medici." letter v. to a country gentleman who regretted that his son had the tendencies of a dilettant. inaccuracy of the common distinction between amateur pursuits and more serious studies--all of us are amateurs in many things--prince albert--the emperor napoleon iii.--contrast between general and professional education--the price of high accomplishment. i agree with you that amateurship, as generally practised, may be a waste of time, but the common distinction between amateur pursuits and serious studies is inconsistent. a painter whose art is imperfect and who does not work for money is called an amateur; a scholar who writes imperfect latin, not for money, escapes the imputation of amateurship, and is called a learned man. surely we have been blinded by custom in these things. ideas of frivolity are attached to imperfect acquirement in certain directions, and ideas of gravity to equally imperfect acquirement in others. to write bad latin poetry is not thought to be frivolous, but it is considered frivolous to compose imperfectly and unprofessionally in other fine arts. yet are we not all of us amateurs in those pursuits which constituted our education--amateurs at the best, if we loved them, and even inferior to amateurs if we disliked them? we have not sounder knowledge or more perfect skill in the ancient languages than prince albert had in music. we know something of them, yet in comparison with perfect mastery such as that of a cultivated old greek or roman, our scholarship is at the best on a level with the musical scholarship of a cultivated amateur like the prince consort. if the essence of dilettantism is to be contented with imperfect attainment, i fear that all educated people must be considered dilettants. it is narrated of the emperor napoleon iii. that in answer to some one who inquired of his majesty whether the prince imperial was a musician, he replied that he discouraged dilettantism, and "did not wish his son to be a coburg." but the emperor himself was quite as much a dilettant as prince albert; though their dilettantism did not lie in the same directions. the prince was an amateur musician and artist; the emperor was an amateur historian, an amateur scholar, and antiquary. it may be added that napoleon iii. indulged in another and more dangerous kind of amateurship. he had a taste for amateur generalship, and the consequences of his indulgence of this taste are known to every one. the variety of modern education encourages a scattered dilettantism. it is only in professional life that the energies of young men are powerfully concentrated. there is a steadying effect in thorough professional training which school education does not supply. our boys receive praise and prizes for doing many things most imperfectly, and it is not their fault if they remain ignorant of what perfection really is, and of the immensity of the labor which it costs. i think that you would do well, perhaps, without discouraging your son too much by chillingly accurate estimates of the value of what he has done, to make him on all proper occasions feel and see the difference between half-knowledge and thorough mastery. it would be a good thing for a youth to be made clearly aware how enormous a price of labor nature has set upon high accomplishment in everything that is really worthy of his pursuit. it is this persuasion, which men usually arrive at only in their maturity, that operates as the most effectual tranquillizer of frivolous activities. letter vi. to the principal of a french college. the author's dread of protection in intellectual pursuits--example from the fine arts--prize poems--governmental encouragement of learning--the bad effects of it--pet pursuits--objection to the interference of ministers--a project for separate examinations. what i am going to say will seem very strange to you, and is not unlikely to arouse as much professional animosity as you are capable of feeling against an old friend. you who are a dignitary of the university, and have earned your various titles in a fair field, as a soldier wins his epaulettes before the enemy, are not the likeliest person to hear with patience the unauthorized theories of an innovator. take them, then, as mere speculations, if you will--not altogether unworthy of consideration, for they are suggested by a sincere anxiety for the best interests of learning, and yet not very dangerous to vested interests of any kind, since they can have little influence on the practice or opinion of the world. i feel a great dread of what may be called _protection_ in intellectual pursuits. it seems to me that when the government of a country applies an artificial stimulus to certain branches of study for their encouragement by the offer of rewards in honor or in money beyond the rewards inherent in the studies themselves, or coming naturally from their usefulness to mankind, there is a great danger that men may give a disproportionate attention to those favored branches of study. let me take an example from the practice of the fine arts. a government, by medals and crosses, or by money, can easily create and foster a school of painting which is entirely out of relation to the century in which it exists, and quite incapable of working harmoniously with the contemporary national life. this has actually been done to a considerable extent in various countries, especially in france and in bavaria. a sort of classicism which had scarcely any foundation in sincerity of feeling was kept up artificially by a system of encouragement which offered inducements outside the genuine ambition of an artist. the true enthusiasm which is the life of art impels the artist to express his own feeling for the delight of others. the offer of a medal or a pension induces him to make the sort of picture which is likely to satisfy the authorities. he first ascertains what is according to the rule, and then follows it as nearly as he is able. he works in a temper of simple conformity, remote indeed from the passionate enthusiasm of creation. it is so with prize poems. we all know the sort of poetry which is composed in order to gain prizes. the anxiety of the versifier is to be safe: he tries to compose what will escape censure; he dreads the originality that may give offence. but all powerful pictures and poems have been wrought in the energy of individual feeling, not in conformity to a pattern. now, suppose that, instead of encouraging poetry or painting, a government resolves to encourage learning. it will patronize certain pursuits to the neglect of others, or it will encourage certain pursuits more liberally than others. the subjects of such a government will not follow learning exclusively for its delightfulness or its utility; another consideration will affect their choice. they will inquire which pursuits are rewarded by prizes in honor or money, and they will be strongly tempted to select them. therefore, unless the government has exercised extraordinary wisdom, men will learn what they do not really care for and may never practically want, merely in order to win some academical grade. so soon as this object has been attained, they will immediately abandon the studies by which they attained it. can it be said that in these cases the purposes of the government were fulfilled? clearly not, if it desired to form a permanent taste for learning. but it may have done worse than fail in this merely negative way; it may have diverted its youth from pursuits to which nature called them, and in which they might have effectually aided the advancement and the prosperity of the state. let us suppose that a government were to have a pet study, and offer great artificial inducements for success in it. suppose that the pet study were entomology. all the most promising youth of the country would spend ten years in emulating messrs. kirby and spence, and take their degrees as entomological bachelors. but might it not easily happen that to a majority of the young gentlemen this pursuit would have acted positively as a hindrance by keeping them from other pursuits more likely to help them in their professions? it would not only cost a great deal of valuable time, it would absorb a quantity of youthful energy which the country can ill afford to lose. the government would probably affirm that entomology, if not always practically useful in itself, was an invaluable intellectual training; but what if this training used up the early vigor which might be needed for other pursuits, and of which every human being has only a limited supply? we should be told, no doubt, that this powerful encouragement was necessary to the advancement of science, and it is true that under such a system the rudiments of entomology would be more generally known. but the vulgarization of rudiments is not the advancement of knowledge. entomology has gone quite as far in discovery, though pursued simply for its own sake, as it would have gone if it had been made necessary to a bachelor's degree. you will ask whether i would go so far as to abolish degrees of all kinds, certainly not; that is not my project. but i believe that no government is competent to make a selection amongst intellectual pursuits and say, "this or that pursuit shall be encouraged by university degrees, whilst other pursuits of intellectual men shall have no encouragement whatever." i may mention by name your present autocrat of public instruction, jules simon. he is a literary man of some eminence; he has written several interesting books, and on the whole he is probably more competent to deal with these questions than many of his predecessors. but however capable a man may be, he is sure to be biassed by the feeling common to all intellectual men which attributes a peculiar importance to their own pursuits. i do not like to see any minister, or any cabinet of ministers, settling what all the young men of a country are to learn under penalty of exclusion from all the liberal professions. what i should think more reasonable would be some such arrangement as the following. there might be a board of thoroughly competent examiners for each branch of study separately, authorized to confer certificates of competence. when a man believed himself to have mastered a branch of study, he would go and try to get a certificate for that. the various studies would then be followed according to the public sense of their importance, and would fall quite naturally into the rank which they ought to occupy at any given period of the national history. these separate examinations should be severe enough to ensure a serviceable degree of proficiency. nobody should be allowed to teach anything who had not got a certificate for the particular thing he intended to profess. in the confusion of your present system, not only do you fail to insure the thoroughness of pupils, but the teachers themselves are too frequently incompetent in some speciality which accidentally fails to their share. i think that a greek master ought to be a complete hellenist, but surely it is not necessary that he should be half a mathematician. to sum up. it seems to me that a government has no business to favor some intellectual pursuits more than others, but that it ought to recognize competent attainment in every one of them by a sort of diploma or certificate, leaving the relative rank of different pursuits to be settled by public opinion. and as to the educators themselves, i think that when a man has proved his competence in one thing, he ought to be allowed to teach that one thing in the university without being required to pass an examination in any other thing. letter vii. to the principal of a french college. loss of time to acquire an ancient language too imperfectly for it to be useful--dr. arnold--mature life leaves little time for culture--modern indifference to ancient thinking--larger experience of the moderns--the moderns older than the ancients--the author's regret that latin has ceased to be a living language--the shortest way to learn to read a language--the recent interest in modern languages--a french student of hebrew. i was happy to learn your opinion of the reform so recently introduced by the minister of public instruction, and the more so that i was glad to find the views of so inexperienced a person as myself confirmed by your wider knowledge. you went even farther than m. jules simon, for you openly expressed a desire for the complete withdrawal of greek from the ordinary school curriculum. not that you undervalue greek,--no one of your scholarship would be likely to undervalue a great literature,--but you thought it a loss of time to acquire a language so imperfectly that the literature still remained practically closed whilst thousands of valuable hours had been wasted on the details of grammar. the truth is, that although the principle of beginning many things in school education with the idea that the pupil will in maturer life pursue them to fuller accomplishment may in some instances be justified by the prolonged studies of men who have a natural taste for erudition, it is idle to shut one's eyes to the fact that most men have no inclination for school-work after they have left school, and if they had the inclination they have not the time. our own dr. arnold, the model english schoolmaster, said, "it is so hard to begin anything in after-life, and so comparatively easy to continue what has been begun, that i think we are bound to break ground, as it were, into several of the mines of knowledge with our pupils; that the first difficulties may be overcome by them whilst there is yet a power from without to aid their own faltering resolution, and that so they may be enabled, if they will, to go on with the study hereafter." the principle here expressed is no doubt one of the important principles of all early education, and yet i think that it cannot be safely followed without taking account of human nature, such as it is. everything hangs on that little parenthesis "if they will." and if they will _not_, how then? the time spent in breaking the ground has been wasted, except so far as the exercise of breaking the ground may have been useful in mental gymnastics. mature life brings so many professional or social duties that it leaves scant time for culture; and those who care for culture most earnestly and sincerely, are the very persons who will economize time to the utmost. now, to read a language that has been very imperfectly mastered is felt to be a bad economy of time. suppose the case of a man occupied in business who has studied greek rather assiduously in youth and yet not enough to read it with facility. suppose that this man wants to get at the mind of plato. he can read the original, but he reads it so slowly that it would cost him more hours than he can spare, and this is why he has recourse to a translation. in this case there is no indifference to greek culture; on the contrary, the reader desires to assimilate what he can of it, but the very earnestness of his wish to have free access to ancient thought makes him prefer it in modern language. this is the most favorable instance that can be imagined, except, of course, those exceedingly rare cases where a man has leisure enough, and enthusiasm enough, to become a hellenist. the great majority of our contemporaries do not care for ancient thought at all, it is so remote from them, it belongs to conditions of civilization so different from their own, it is encumbered with so many lengthy discussions of questions which have been settled by the subsequent experience of the world, that the modern mind prefers to occupy itself with its own anxieties and its own speculations. it is a great error to suppose that indifference to ancient thinking is peculiar to the spirit of philistinism; for the most cultivated contemporary intellects seek light from each other rather than from the ancients. one of the most distinguished of modern thinkers, a scholar of the rarest classical attainments, said to me in reference to some scheme of mine for renewing my classical studies, that they would be of no more use to me than numismatics. it is this feeling, the feeling that greek speculation is of less consequence to the modern world than german and french speculation, which causes so many of us, rightly or wrongly, to regard it as a palæontological curiosity, interesting for those who are curious as to the past of the human mind, but not likely to be influential upon its future. this estimate of ancient thinking is not often expressed quite so openly as i have just expressed it, and yet it is very generally prevalent even amongst the most thoughtful people, especially if modern science has had any conspicuous influence in the formation of their minds. tho truth is, as sydney smith observed many years ago, that there is a confusion of language in the use of the word "ancient." we say "the ancients," as if they were older and more experienced men than we are, whereas the age and experience are entirely on our side. they were the clever children, "and we only are the white-bearded, silver-headed ancients, who have treasured up, and are prepared to profit by, all the experience which human life can supply." the sense of our larger experience, as it grows in us and becomes more distinctly conscious, produces a corresponding decline in our feelings of reverence for classic times. the past has bequeathed to us its results, and we have incorporated them into our own edifice, but we have used them rather as materials than as models. in your practical desire to retain in education only what is likely to be used, you are willing to preserve latin. m. jules simon says that latin ought to be studied only to be read. on this point permit me to offer an observation. the one thing i regret about latin is that we have ceased to speak it. the natural method, and by far the most rapid and sure method of learning a language, is to begin by acquiring words in order to use them to ask for what we want; after that we acquire other words for narration and the expression of our sentiments. by far the shortest way to learn to read a language is to begin by speaking it. the colloquial tongue is the basis of the literary tongue. this is so true that with all the pains and trouble you give to the latin education of your pupils, you cannot teach them as much latin, for reading only, in the course of ten years, as a living foreigner will give them of his own language in ten months. i seriously believe that if your object is to make boys read latin easily, you begin at the wrong end. it is deplorable that the learned should ever have allowed latin to become a dead language, since in permitting this they have enormously increased the difficulty of acquiring it, even for the purposes of scholarship. no foreigner who knows the french people will disapprove of the novel desire to know the modern languages, which has been one of the most unexpected consequences of the war. their extreme ignorance of the literature of other nations has been the cause of enormous evils. notwithstanding her central position, france has been a very isolated country intellectually, much more isolated than england, more isolated even than transylvania, where foreign literatures are familiar to the cultivated classes. this isolation has produced very lamentable effects, not only on the national culture but most especially on the national character. no modern nation, however important, can safely remain in ignorance of its contemporaries. the frenchman was like a gentleman shut up within his own park-wall, having no intercourse with his neighbors, and reading nothing but the history of his own ancestors--for the romans were your ancestors, intellectually. it is only by the study of living languages, and their continual use, that we can learn our true place in the world. a frenchman was studying hebrew; i ventured to suggest that german might possibly be more useful. to this he answered, _that there was no literature in german_. "_vous avez goethe, vous avez schiller, et vous avez lessing, mais en dehors de ces trois noms il n'y a rien._" this meant simply that my student of hebrew measured german literature by his own knowledge of it. three names had reached him, only names, and only three of them. as to the men who were unknown to him he had decided that they did not exist. certainly if there are many frenchmen in this condition, it is time that they learned a little german. letter viii. to a student of modern languages. standard of attainment in living languages higher than in ancient ones--difficulty of maintaining high pretensions--prevalent illusion about the facility of modern languages--easy to speak them badly--some propositions based upon experience--expectations and disappointments. had your main purpose in the education of yourself (i do not say self-education, for you wisely accept all help from others) been the attainment of classical scholarship, i might have observed that as the received standard in that kind of learning is not a very elevated one, you might reasonably hope to reach it with a certain calculable quantity of effort. the classical student has only to contend against other students who are and have been situated very much as he is situated himself. they have learned latin and greek from grammars and dictionaries as he is learning them, and the only natural advantages which any of his predecessors may have possessed are superiorities of memory which may be compensated by his greater perseverance, or superiorities of sympathy to which he may "level up" by that acquired and artificial interest which comes from protracted application. but the student of modern languages has to contend against advantages of situation, as the gardeners of an inhospitable climate contend against the natural sunshine of the south. how easy it is to have a fruitful date-tree in arabia, how difficult in england! how easy for the florentine to speak italian, how difficult for us! the modern linguist can never fence himself behind that stately unquestionableness which shields the classical scholar. his knowledge may at any time be put to the severest of all tests, to a test incomparably more severe than the strictest university examination. the first _native_ that he meets is his examiner, the first foreign city is his oxford. and this is probably one reason why accomplishment in modern languages has been rather a matter of utility than of dignity, for it is difficult to keep up great pretensions in the face of a multitude of critics. what would the most learned-looking gown avail, if a malicious foreigner were laughing at us? but there is a deep satisfaction in the severity of the test. an honest and courageous student likes to be clearly aware of the exact value of his acquisitions. he takes his french to paris and has it tested there as we take our plate to the silversmith, and after that he knows, or may know, quite accurately what it is worth. he has not the dignity of scholarship, he is not held to be a learned man, but he has acquired something which may be of daily use to him in society, or in commerce, or in literature; and there are thousands of educated natives who can accurately estimate his attainment and help him to a higher perfection. all this is deeply satisfying to a lover of intellectual realities. the modern linguist is always on firm ground, and in broad daylight. he may impede his own progress by the illusions of solitary self-conceit, but the atmosphere outside is not favorable to such illusions. it is well for him that the temptations to charlatanism are so few, that the risks of exposure are so frequent. still there _are_ illusions, and the commonest of them is that a modern language may be very easily mastered. there is a popular idea that french is easy, that italian is easy, that german is more difficult, yet by no means insuperably difficult. it is believed that when an englishman has spent all the best years of his youth in attempting to learn latin and greek, he may acquire one or two modern languages with little effort during a brief residence on the continent. it is certainly true that we may learn any number of foreign languages so as to speak them badly, but it surely cannot be easy to speak them well. it may be inferred that this is not easy because the accomplishment is so rare. the inducements are common, the accomplishment is rare. thousands of english people have very strong reasons for learning french, thousands of french people could improve their position by learning english; but rare indeed are the men and women who know both languages thoroughly. the following propositions, based on much observation of a kind wholly unprejudiced and tested by a not inconsiderable experience will be found, i believe, unassailable. . _whenever a foreign language is perfectly acquired there are peculiar family conditions. the person has either married a person of the other nation, or is of mixed blood._ . _when a foreign language has been acquired (there are instances of this) in quite absolute perfection, there is almost always some loss in the native tongue. either the native tongue is not spoken correctly, or it is not spoken with perfect ease._ . _a man sometimes speaks two languages correctly, his father's and his mother's, or his own and his wife's, but never three._ . _children can speak several languages exactly like natives, but in succession, never simultaneously. they forget the first in acquiring the second, and so on._ . _a language cannot be learned by an adult without five years' residence in the country where it is spoken, and without habits of close observation a residence of twenty years is insufficient._ this is not encouraging, but it is the truth. happily, a knowledge which falls far short of mastery may be of much practical use in the common affairs of life, and may even afford some initiation into foreign literatures. i do not argue that because perfection is denied of us by the circumstances of our lives or the necessities of our organization we are therefore to abandon the study to every language but the mother tongue. it may be of use to us to know several languages imperfectly, if only we confess the hopelessness of absolute attainment. that which is truly, and deeply, and seriously an injury to our intellectual life, is the foolishness of the too common vanity which first deludes itself with childish expectations and then tortures itself with late regret for failure which might have been easily foreseen. letter ix. to a student of modern languages. cases known to the author--opinion of an english linguist--family conditions--an englishman who lived forty years in france--influence of children--an italian in france--displacement of one language by another. english lady married to a frenchman--an italian in garibaldi's army--corruption of languages by the uneducated when they learn more than one--neapolitan servant of an english gentleman--a scotch servant-woman--the author's eldest boy--substitution of one language for another--in mature life we lose facility--the resisting power of adults--seen in international marriages--case of a retired english officer--two germans in france--germans in london--the innocence of the ear--imperfect attainment of little intellectual use--too many languages attempted in education--polyglot waiters--indirect benefits. my five propositions about learning modern languages appear from your answer to have rather surprised you, and you ask for some instances in illustration. i am aware that my last letter was dogmatic, so let me begin by begging your pardon for its dogmatism. the present communication may steer clear of that rock of offence, for it shall confine itself to an account of cases that i have known. one of the most accomplished of english linguists remarked to me that after much observation of the labors of others, and a fair estimate of his own, he had come to the rather discouraging conclusion that it was not possible to learn a foreign language. he did not take account of the one exceptional class of cases where the family conditions make the use of two languages habitual. the most favorable family conditions are not in themselves sufficient to _ensure_ the acquisition of a language, but wherever an instance of perfect acquisition is to be found, these family conditions are always found along with it. my friend w., an english artist living in paris, speaks french with quite absolute accuracy as to grammar and choice of expression, and with accuracy of pronunciation so nearly absolute that the best french ears can detect nothing wrong but the pronunciation of the letter "_r_." he has lived in france for the space of forty years, but it may be doubted whether in forty years he could have mastered the language as he has done if he had not married a native. french has been his home language for years and more, and the perfect ease and naturalness of his diction are due to the powerful home influences, especially to the influence of children. a child is born that speaks the foreign tongue from the first inarticulate beginnings it makes its own child language, and the father as he hears it is born over again in the foreign land by tender paternal sympathy. gradually the sweet child-talk gives place to the perfect tongue and the father follows it by insensible gradations, himself the most docile of pupils, led onward rather than instructed by the winning and playful little master, incomparably the best of masters. the process here is nature's own inimitable process. every new child that is born to a man so situated carries him through a repetition of that marvellous course of teaching. the language _grows_ in his brain from the first rudiments--the real natural rudiments, not the hard rudiments of the grammarian--just as plants grow naturally from their seeds. it has not been built by human processes of piecing together, but has developed itself like a living creature. this way of learning a language possesses over the dictionary process exactly the kind of superiority which a living man, developed naturally from the foetus, possesses over the elastic anatomical man-model of the ingenious doctor auzoux. the doctor's models are remarkably perfect in construction, they have all the organs, but they have not life. when, however, this natural process of growth is allowed to go forward without watchful care, it is likely to displace the mother tongue. it is sometimes affirmed that the impressions of childhood are never effaced, that the mother tongue is _never_ forgotten. it may be that it is never wholly forgotten, except in the case of young children, but it may become so imperfect as to be practically of little use. i knew an italian who came to france as a young man and learned his profession there. he was afterwards naturalized, married a french lady, had several children, pursued a very successful career in paris, and became ultimately french ambassador at the court of victor emmanuel. his french was so perfect that it was quite impossible for any one to detect the usual italian accents. i used to count him as a remarkable and almost solitary instance of a man speaking two languages in their perfection, but i learned since then that his french had displaced his italian, and so completely that he was quite unable to speak italian correctly, and made use of french invariably when in italy. the risk of this displacement is always greatest in cases where the native tongue is not kept up by means of literature. byron and shelley, or our contemporary charles lever, would run little risk of losing english by continental residence, but people not accustomed to reading and writing often forget the mother tongue in a few years, even when the foreign one which has displaced it is still in a state of imperfection. madame l. is an english lady who married a frenchman; neither her husband nor her children speak english, and as her relatives live in one of our most distant colonies, she has been separated from them for many years. isolated thus from english society, living in a part of france rarely visited by her countrymen, never reading english, and writing it little and at long intervals, she speaks it now with much difficulty and diffidence. her french is not grammatical, though she has lived for many years with people who speak grammatically; but then her french is fluent and alive, truly her own living language now, whilst english is, if not wholly forgotten, dead almost as our latin is dead. she and i always speak french together when we meet, because it is easier for her than english, and a more natural expression. i have known some other cases of displacement of the native tongue, and have lately had the opportunity of watching a case of such displacement during its progress. a sergeant in the italian army deserted to join garibaldi in the campaign of . on the conclusion of peace it was impossible for him to return to italy, so he settled in france and married there. i found some work for him, and for some months saw him frequently. up to the date of his marriage he spoke no language but italian, which he could read and write correctly, but after his marriage the process of displacement of the native tongue began immediately by the corruption of it. he did not keep his italian safely by itself, putting the french in a place of its own as he gradually acquired it, but he mixed the two inextricably together. imagine the case of a man who, having a bottle half full of wine, gets some beer given him and pours it immediately into the wine-bottle. the beer will never be pure beer, but it will effectually spoil the wine. this process is not so much one of displacement as of corruption, it takes place readily in uncultivated minds, with feeble separating powers. another example of this was a neapolitan servant of an english gentleman, who mixed his italian twice, first with french and afterwards with english, producing a compound intelligible to nobody but himself, if indeed he himself understood it. at the time i knew him, the man had no means of communication with his species. when his master told him to do anything, he made a guess at what was likely to be for the moment his master's most probable want, and sometimes hit the mark, but more generally missed it. the man's name was alberino, and i remember on one occasion profiting by a mistaken guess of his. after a visit to alberino's master, my servant brought forth a magnificent basket of trout, which surprised me, as nothing had been said about them. however, we ate them, and only discovered afterwards that the present was due to an illusion of alberino's. his master had never told him to give me the trout, but he had interpreted some other order in that sense. when you asked him for mustard, he would first touch the salt, and then the pepper, etc., looking at you inquiringly till you nodded assent. any attempt at conversation with alberino was sure to lead to a perfect comedy of misunderstandings. he never had the remotest idea of what his interlocutor was talking about; but he pretended to catch your meaning, and answered at haphazard. he had a habit of talking aloud to himself, "but in a tongue no man could understand." it is a law that cultivated people can keep languages apart, and in their purity, better than persons who have not habits of intellectual analysis. when i lived in scotland three languages were spoken in my house all day long, and a housemaid came to us from the lowlands who spoke nothing but lowland scotch. she used to ask what was the french for this thing or that, and then what was the gaelic for it. having been answered, she invariably asked the farther question which of the three words, french, gaelic, or english, _was the right word_. she remained, to the last, entirely incapable of conceiving how all the three could be right. had she learned another language, it must have been by substitution for her own. this is exactly the natural process which takes place in the brains of children who are transferred from one country to another. my eldest boy spoke english in childhood as well as any other english child of his age. he was taken to the south of france, and in three months he replaced his english with provençal, which he learned from the servants about him. there were two ladies in the house who spoke english well, and did all in their power, in compliance with my urgent entreaties, to preserve the boy's native language; but the substitution took place too rapidly, and was beyond control. he began by an unwillingness to use english words whenever he could use provençal instead, and in a remarkably short time this unwillingness was succeeded by inability. the native language was as completely taken out of his brain as a violin is taken out of its case: nothing remained, _nothing_, not one word, not any echo of an accent. and as a violinist may put a new instrument into the case from which he has removed the old one, so the new language occupied the whole space which had been occupied by english. when i saw the child again, there was no means of communication between us. after that, he was removed to the north of france, and the same process began again. as provençal had pushed out english, so french began to push out provençal. the process was wonderfully rapid. the child heard people speak french, and he began to speak french like them without any formal teaching. he spoke the language as he breathed the air. in a few weeks he did not retain the least remnant of his provençal; it was gone after his english into the limbo of the utterly forgotten. novelists have occasionally made use of cases similar to this, but they speak of the forgotten language as being forgotten in the manner that scott forgot the manuscript of "waverley," which he found afterwards in the drawers of an old writing-desk when he was seeking for fishing-tackle. they assume (conveniently for the purposes of their art) that the first language we learn is never really lost, but may be as it were under certain circumstances _mislaid_, to be found again at some future period. now, although something of this kind may be possible when the first language has been spoken in rather advanced boyhood, i am convinced that in childhood a considerable number of languages might succeed each other without leaving any trace whatever. i might have remarked that in addition to english, provençal, and french, my boy had understood gaelic in his infancy, at least to some extent, though he did not speak it. the languages in his case succeeded each other without any cost of effort, and without any appreciable effect on health. the pronunciation of each language was quite faultless so far as foreign accent went; the child had the defects of children, but of children born in the different countries where he lived. as we grow older this facility of acquisition gradually leaves us. m. philarète chasles says that it is quite impossible for any adult to learn german: an adult may learn german as dr. arnold did for purposes of erudition, for which it is enough to know a language as we know latin, but this is not mastery. you have met with many foreign residents in england, who after staying in the country for many years can barely make themselves intelligible, and must certainly be incapable of appreciating those beauties of our literature which are dependent upon arrangements of sound. the resisting power of the adult brain is quite as remarkable as the assimilating power of the immature brain. a child hears a sound, and repeats it with perfect accuracy; a man hears a sound, and by way of imitation utters something altogether different, being nevertheless persuaded that it is at least a close and satisfactory approximation. children imitate well, but adults badly, and the acquisition of languages depends mainly on imitation. the resisting power of adults is often seen very remarkably in international marriages. in those classes of society where there is not much culture, or leisure or disposition for culture, the one will not learn the other's language from opportunity or from affection, but only under absolute necessity. it seems as if two people living always together would gain each other's languages as a matter of course, but the fact is that they do not. french people who marry foreigners do not usually acquire the foreign language if the pair remain in france; english people under similar conditions make the attempt more frequently, but they rest contented with imperfect attainment. if the power of resistance is so great in people who being wedded together for life have peculiarly strong inducements for learning each other's languages, it need surprise us little to find a like power of resistance in cases where motives of affection are altogether absent. englishmen who go to france as adults, and settle there, frequently remain for many years in a state of half-knowledge which, though it may carry them through the little difficulties of life at railway stations and restaurants, is for any intellectual purpose of no conceivable utility. i knew a retired english officer, a bachelor, who for many years had lived in paris without any intention of returning to england. his french just barely carried him through the small transactions of his daily life, but was so limited and so incorrect that he could not maintain a conversation. his vocabulary was very meagre; his genders were all wrong, and he did not know one single verb, literally not one. his pronunciation was so foreign as to be very nearly unintelligible, and he hesitated so much that it was painful to have to listen to him. i could mention a celebrated german, who has lived in or near paris for the last twenty years, and who can neither speak nor write the language with any approach to accuracy. another german, who settled in france as a master of languages, wrote french tolerably, but spoke it _in_tolerably. there are germans in london, who have lived there long enough to have families and make fortunes, yet who continue to repeat the ordinary german faults of pronunciation, the same faults which they committed years ago, when first they landed on our shores. the child hears and repeats the true sound, the adult misleads himself by the spelling. seldom indeed can the adult recover the innocence of the ear. it is like the innocence of the eye, which has to be recovered before we can paint from nature, and which belongs only to infancy and to art. let me observe, in conclusion, that although to know a foreign language perfectly is a most valuable aid to the intellectual life, i have never known an instance of very imperfect attainment which seemed to enrich the student intellectually. until you can really feel the refinements of a language, your mental culture can get little help or furtherance from it of any kind, nothing but an interminable series of misunderstandings. i think that in the education of our boys too many languages are attempted, and that their minds would profit more by the perfect acquisition of a single language in addition to the native tongue. this, of course, is looking at the matter simply from the intellectual point of view. there may be practical reasons for knowing several languages imperfectly. it may be of use to many men in commercial situations to know a little of several languages, even a few words and phrases are valuable to a traveller, but all intellectual labor of the higher kind requires much more than that. it is of use to society that there should be polyglot waiters who can tell us when the train starts in four or five languages; but the polyglot waiters themselves are not intellectually advanced by their accomplishment; for, after all, the facts of the railway time-table are always the same small facts, in however many languages they may be announced. true culture ought to strengthen the faculty of thinking, and to provide the material upon which that noble faculty may operate. an accomplishment which does neither of these two things for us is useless for our culture, though it may be of considerable practical convenience in the affairs of ordinary life. it is right to add, however, that there is sometimes an _indirect_ intellectual benefit from such accomplishments. to be able to order dinner in spanish is not in itself an intellectual advantage; but if the dinner, when you have eaten it, enables you to visit a cathedral whose architecture you are qualified to appreciate, there is a clear intellectual gain, though an indirect one. letter x. to a student who lamented his defective memory. the author rather inclined to congratulation than to condolence--value of a selecting memory--studies of the young goethe--his great faculty of assimilation--a good literary memory like a well-edited periodical--the selecting memory in art--treacherous memories--cures suggested for them--the mnemotechnic art contrary to the true discipline of the mind--two instances--the memory safely aided only by right association. so far from writing, as you seem to expect me to do, a letter of condolence on the subject of what you are pleased to call your "miserable memory," i feel disposed rather to indite a letter of congratulation. it is possible that you may be blessed with a selecting memory, which is not only useful for what it retains but for what it rejects. in the immense mass of facts which come before you in literature and in life, it is well that you should suffer from as little bewilderment as possible. the nature of your memory saves you from this by unconsciously selecting what has interested you, and letting the rest go by. what interests you is what concerns you. in saying this i speak simply from the intellectual point of view, and suppose you to be an intellectual man by the natural organization of your brain, to begin with. in saying that what interests you is what concerns you, i mean intellectually, not materially. it may concern you, in the pecuniary sense, to take an interest in the law; yet your mind, left to itself, would take little or no interest in law, but an absorbing interest in botany. the passionate studies of the young goethe, in many different directions, always in obedience to the predominant interests of the moment, are the best example of the way in which a great intellect, with remarkable powers of acquisition and liberty to grow in free luxuriance, sends its roots into various soils and draws from them the constituents of its sap. as a student of law, as a university student even, he was not of the type which parents and professors consider satisfactory. he neglected jurisprudence, he neglected even his college studies, but took an interest in so many other pursuits that his mind became rich indeed. yet the wealth which his mind acquired seems to have been due to that liberty of ranging by which it was permitted to him to seek his own everywhere, according to the maxim of french law, _chacun prend son bien où il le trouve_. had he been a poor student, bound down to the exclusively legal studies, which did not greatly interest him, it is likely that no one would ever have suspected his immense faculty of assimilation. in this way men who are set by others to load their memories with what is not their proper intellectual food, never get the credit of having any memory at all, and end by themselves believing that they have none. these bad memories are often the best, they are often the selecting memories. they seldom win distinction in examinations, but in literature and art. they are quite incomparably superior to the miscellaneous memories that receive only as boxes and drawers receive what is put into them. a good literary or artistic memory is not like a post-office that takes in everything, but like a very well-edited periodical which prints nothing that does not harmonize with its intellectual life. a well-known author gave me this piece of advice: "take as many notes as you like, but when you write do not look at them--what you remember is what you must write, and you ought to give things exactly the degree of relative importance that they have in your memory. if you forget much, it is well, it will only save beforehand the labor of erasure." this advice would not be suitable to every author; an author who dealt much in minute facts ought to be allowed to refer to his memoranda; but from the artistic point of view in literature the advice was wise indeed. in painting, our preferences select whilst we are in the presence of nature, and our memory selects when we are away from nature. the most beautiful compositions are produced by the selecting office of the memory, which retains some features, and even greatly exaggerates them, whilst it diminishes others and often altogether omits them. an artist who blamed himself for these exaggerations and omissions would blame himself for being an artist. let me add a protest against the common methods of curing what are called treacherous memories. they are generally founded upon the association of ideas, which is so far rational, but then the sort of association which they have recourse to is unnatural, and produces precisely the sort of disorder which would be produced in dress if a man were insane enough to tie, let us say, a frying-pan to one of his coat-tails and a child's kite to the other. the true discipline of the mind is to be effected only by associating those things together which have a real relation of some kind, and the profounder the relation, the more it is based upon the natural constitution of things, and the less it concerns trifling external details, the better will be the order of the intellect. the mnemotechnic art wholly disregards this, and is therefore unsuited for intellectual persons, though it may be of some practical use in ordinary life. a little book on memory, of which many editions have been sold, suggests to men who forget their umbrellas that they ought always to associate the image of an umbrella with that of an open door, so that they could never leave any house without thinking of one. but would it not be preferable to lose two or three guineas annually rather than see a spectral umbrella in every doorway? the same writer suggests an idea which appears even more objectionable. because we are apt to lose time, we ought, he says, to imagine a skeleton clock-face on the visage of every man we talk with; that is to say, we ought systematically to set about producing in our brains an absurd association of ideas, which is quite closely allied to one of the most common forms of insanity. it is better to forget umbrellas and lose hours than fill our minds with associations of a kind which every disciplined intellect does all it can to get rid of. the rational art of memory is that used in natural science. we remember anatomy and botany because, although the facts they teach are infinitely numerous, they are arranged according to the constructive order of nature. unless there were a clear relation between the anatomy of one animal and that of others, the memory would refuse to burden itself with the details of their structure. so in the study of languages we learn several languages by perceiving their true structural relations, and remembering these. association of this kind, and the maintenance of order in the mind, are the only arts of memory compatible with the right government of the intellect. incongruous, and even superficial associations ought to be systematically discouraged, and we ought to value the negative or rejecting power of the memory. the finest intellects are as remarkable for the ease with which they resist and throw off what does not concern them as for the permanence with which their own truths engrave themselves. they are like clear glass, which fluoric acid etches indelibly, but which comes out of vitriol intact. letter xi. to a master of arts who said that a certain distinguished painter was half-educated. conventional idea about the completeness of education--the estimate of a schoolmaster--no one can be fully educated--even leonardo da vinci fell short of the complete expression of his faculties--the word "education" used in two different senses--the acquisition of knowledge--who are the learned?--quotation from sydney smith--what a "half-educated" painter had learned--what faculties he had developed. an intelligent lady was lamenting to me the other day that when she heard anything she did not quite agree with, it only set her thinking, and did not suggest any immediate reply. "three hours afterwards," she added, "i arrive at the answer which ought to have been given, but then it is exactly three hours too late." being afflicted with precisely the same pitiable infirmity, i said nothing in reply to a statement you made yesterday evening at dinner, but it occupied me in the hansom as it rolled between the monotonous lines of houses, and followed me even into my bed-room. i should like to answer it this morning, as one answers a letter. you said that our friend the painter was "half-educated." this made me try to understand what it is to be three-quarters educated, and seven-eighths educated, and finally what must be that quite perfect state of the man who is whole-educated. i fear that you must have adopted some conventional idea about completeness of education, since you believe that there is any such thing as completeness, and that education can be measured by fractions, like the divisions of a two-foot rule. is not such an idea just a little arbitrary? it seems to be the idea of a schoolmaster, with his little list of subjects and his professional habit of estimating the progress of his boys by the good marks they are likely to obtain from their examiners. the half-educated schoolboy would be a schoolboy half-way towards his bachelor's degree--is that it? in the estimates of school and college this may be so, and it may be well to keep up the illusion, during boyhood, that there is such a thing attainable as the complete education that you assume. but the wider experience of manhood tends rather to convince us that no one can be fully educated, and that the more rich and various the natural talents, the greater will be the difficulty of educating the whole of them. indeed it does not appear that in a state of society so advanced in the different specialities as ours is, men were ever intended to do more than develop by education a few of their natural gifts. the only man who came near to a complete education was leonardo da vinci, but such a personage would be impossible to-day. no contemporary leonardo could be at the same time a leader in fine art, a great military and civil engineer, and a discoverer in theoretical science; the specialists have gone too far for him. born in our day, leonardo would have been either a specialist or an amateur. situated even as he was, in a time and country so remarkably favorable to the general development of a variously gifted man, he still fell short of the complete expansion of all his extraordinary faculties. he was a great artist, and yet his artistic power was never developed beyond the point of elaborately careful labor; he never attained the assured manipulation of titian and paul veronese, not to mention the free facility of velasquez, or the splendid audacity of rubens. his natural gifts were grand enough to have taken him to a pitch of mastery that he never reached, but his mechanical and scientific tendencies would have their development also, and withdrew so much time from art that every renewal of his artistic labor was accompanied by long and anxious reflection. the word "education" is used in senses so different that confusion is not always avoided. some people mean by it the acquisition of knowledge, others the development of faculty. if you mean the first, then the half-educated man would be a man who knew half what he ought to know, or who only half knew the different sciences, which the wholly educated know thoroughly. who is to fix the subjects? is it the opinion of the learned?--if so, who are the learned? "a learned man!--a scholar!--a man of erudition! upon whom are these epithets of approbation bestowed? are they given to men acquainted with the science of government? thoroughly masters of the geographical and commercial relations of europe? to men who know the properties of bodies, and their action upon each other? no: this is not learning; it is chemistry, or political economy, not learning. the distinguishing abstract term, the epithet of scholar, is reserved for him who writes on the Æolic reduplication, and is familiar with the sylburgian method of arranging defectives in [greek: ô] and [greek: mi]. the picture which a young englishman, addicted to the pursuit of knowledge, draws--his _beau idéal_ of human nature--his top and consummation of man's powers--is a knowledge of the greek language. his object is not to reason, to imagine, or to invent; but to conjugate, decline, and derive. the situations of imaginary glory which he draws for himself, are the detection of an anapæst in the wrong place, or the restoration of a dative case which cranzius had passed over, and the never-dying ernesti failed to observe." by the help of the above passage from an article written sixty-three years ago by sydney smith, and by the help of another passage in the same paper where he tells us that the english clergy bring up the first young men of the country as if they were all to keep grammar schools in little country towns, i begin to understand what you mean by a half-educated person. you mean a person who is only half qualified for keeping a grammar school. in this sense it is very possible that our friend the painter possesses nothing beyond a miserable fraction of education. and yet he has picked up a good deal of valuable knowledge outside the technical acquirement of a most difficult profession. he studied two years in paris, and four years in florence and rome. he speaks french and italian quite fluently, and with a fair degree of correctness. his knowledge of those two languages is incomparably more complete, in the sense of practical possession, than our fossilized knowledge of latin, and he reads them almost as we read english, currently, and without translating. he has the heartiest enjoyment of good literature; there is evidence in his pictures of a most intelligent sympathy with the greatest inventive writers. without having a scientific nature, he knows a good deal about anatomy. he has not read greek poetry, but he has studied the old greek mind in its architecture and sculpture. nature has also endowed him with a just appreciation of music, and he knows the immortal masterpieces of the most illustrious composers. all these things would not qualify him to teach a grammar school, and yet what greek of the age of pericles ever knew half so much? this for the acquisition of knowledge; now for the development of faculty. in this respect he excels us as performing athletes excel the people in the streets. consider the marvellous accuracy of his eye, the precision of his hand, the closeness of his observation, the vigor of his memory and invention! how clumsy and rude is the most learned pedant in comparison with the refinement of this delicate organization! try to imagine what a disciplined creature he has become, how obedient are all his faculties to the commands of the central will! the brain conceives some image of beauty or wit, and immediately that clear conception is telegraphed to the well-trained fingers. surely, if the results of education may be estimated from the evidences of skill, here are some of the most wonderful of such results. footnote: [ ] according to m. taine. i have elsewhere expressed a doubt about polyglots. part iv. the power of time. letter i. to a man of leisure who complained of want of time. necessity for time-thrift in all cases--serious men not much in danger from mere frivolity--greater danger of losing time in our serious pursuits themselves--time thrown away when we do not attain proficiency--soundness of former scholarship a good example--browning's grammarian--knowledge an organic whole--soundness the possession of essential parts--necessity of fixed limits in our projects of study--limitation of purpose in the fine arts--in languages--instance of m. louis Énault--in music--time saved by following kindred pursuits--order and proportion the true secrets of time-thrift--a waste of time to leave fortresses untaken in our rear. you complain of want of time--you, with your boundless leisure! it is true that the most absolute master of his own hours still needs thrift if he would turn them to account, and that too many _never_ learn this thrift, whilst others learn it late. will you permit me to offer briefly a few observations on time-thrift which have been suggested to me by my own experience and by the experience of intellectual friends? it may be accepted for certain, to begin with, that men who like yourself seriously care for culture, and make it, next to moral duty, the principal object of their lives, are but little exposed to waste time in downright frivolity of any kind. you may be perfectly idle at your own times, and perfectly frivolous even, whenever you have a mind to be frivolous, but then you will be clearly aware how the time is passing, and you will throw it away knowingly, as the most careful of money-economists will throw away a few sovereigns in a confessedly foolish amusement, merely for the relief of a break in the habit of his life. to a man of your tastes and temper there is no danger of wasting too much time so long as the waste is intentional; but you are exposed to time-losses of a much more insidious character. it is in our pursuits themselves that we throw away our most valuable time. few intellectual men have the art of economizing the hours of study. the very necessity, which every one acknowledges, of giving vast portions of life to attain proficiency in anything makes us prodigal where we ought to be parsimonious, and careless where we have need of unceasing vigilance. the best time-savers are the love of soundness in all we learn or do, and a cheerful acceptance of inevitable limitations. there is a certain point of proficiency at which an acquisition begins to be of use, and unless we have the time and resolution necessary to reach that point, our labor is as completely thrown away as that of a mechanic who began to make an engine but never finished it. each of us has acquisitions which remain permanently unavailable from their unsoundness, a language or two that we can neither speak nor write, a science of which the elements have not been mastered, an art which we cannot practice with satisfaction either to others or to ourselves. now the time spent on these unsound accomplishments has been in great measure wasted, not quite absolutely wasted, since the mere labor of trying to learn has been a discipline for the mind, but wasted so far as the accomplishments themselves are concerned. and even this mental discipline, on which so much stress is laid by those whose interest it is to encourage unsound accomplishment, might be obtained more perfectly if the subjects of study were less numerous and more thoroughly understood. let us not therefore in the studies of our maturity repeat the error of our youth. let us determine to have soundness, that is, accurately organized knowledge in the studies we continue to pursue, and let us resign ourselves to the necessity for abandoning those pursuits in which soundness is not to be hoped for. the old-fashioned idea about scholarship in latin and greek, that it ought to be based upon thorough grammatical knowledge, is a good example, so far as it goes, of what soundness really is. that ideal of scholarship failed only because it fell short of soundness in other directions and was not conscious of its failure. but there existed, in the minds of the old scholars, a fine resolution to be accurate, and a determination to give however much labor might be necessary for the attainment of accuracy, in which there was much grandeur. like mr. browning's grammarian, they said-- "let me know all! prate not of most or least painful or easy!" and so at least they came to know the ancient tongues grammatically, which few of us do in these days. i should define each kind of knowledge as an organic whole and soundness as the complete possession of all the essential parts. for example, soundness in violin-playing consists in being able to play the notes in all the positions, in tune, and with a pure intonation, whatever may be the degree of rapidity indicated by the musical composer. soundness in painting consists in being able to lay a patch of color having exactly the right shape and tint. soundness in the use of language consists in being able to put the right word in the right place. in each of the sciences, there are certain elementary notions without which sound knowledge is not possible, but these elementary notions are more easily and rapidly acquired than the elaborate knowledge or confirmed skill necessary to the artist or the linguist. a man may be a sound botanist without knowing a very great number of plants, and the elements of sound botanical knowledge may be printed in a portable volume. and so it is with all the physical sciences; the elementary notions which are necessary to soundness of knowledge may be acquired rapidly and at any age. hence it follows that all whose leisure for culture is limited, and who value soundness of knowledge, do wisely to pursue some branch of natural history rather than languages or the fine arts. it is well for every one who desires to attain a perfect economy of time, to make a list of the different pursuits to which he has devoted himself, and to put a note opposite to each of them indicating the degree of its unsoundness with as little self-delusion as may be. after having done this, he may easily ascertain in how many of these pursuits a sufficient degree of soundness is attainable for him, and when this has been decided he may at once effect a great saving by the total renunciation of the rest. with regard to those which remain, and which are to be carried farther, the next thing to be settled is the exact limit of their cultivation. nothing is so favorable to sound culture as the definite fixing of limits. suppose, for example, that the student said to himself "i desire to know the flora of the valley i live in," and then set to work systematically to make a herbarium illustrating that flora, it is probable that his labor would be more thorough, his temper more watchful and hopeful, than if he set himself to the boundless task of the illimitable flora of the world. or in the pursuit of fine art, an amateur discouraged by the glaring unsoundness of the kind of art taught by ordinary drawing-masters, would find the basis of a more substantial superstructure on a narrower but firmer ground. suppose that instead of the usual messes of bad color and bad form, the student produced work having some definite and not unattainable purpose, would there not be, here also, an assured economy of time? accurate drawing is the basis of soundness in the fine arts, and an amateur, by perseverance, may reach accuracy in drawing; this, at least, has been proved by some examples--not by many, certainly, but by some. in languages we may have a limited purpose also. that charming and most intelligent traveller, louis Énault, tells us that he regularly gave a week to the study of each new language that he needed, and found that week sufficient. the assertion is not so presumptuous as it appears. for the practical necessities of travelling m. Énault found that he required about four hundred words, and that, having a good memory, he was able to learn about seventy words a day. the secret of his success was the invaluable art of selection, and the strict limitation of effort in accordance with a preconceived design. a traveller not so well skilled in selection might have learned a thousand words with less advantage to his travels, and a traveller less decided in purpose might have wasted several months on the frontier of every new country in hopeless efforts to master the intricacies of grammatical form. it is evident that in the strictest sense m. Énault's knowledge of norwegian cannot have been sound, since he did not master the grammar, but it was sound in its own strictly limited way, since he got possession of the four hundred words which were to serve him as current coin. on the same principle it is a good plan for students of latin and greek who have not time to reach true scholarship (half a lifetime is necessary for that), to propose to themselves simply the reading of the original authors with the help of a literal translation. in this way they may attain a closer acquaintance with ancient literature than would be possible by translation alone, whilst on the other hand their reading will be much more extensive on account of its greater rapidity. it is, for most of us, a waste of time to read latin and greek without a translation, on account of the comparative slowness of the process; but it is always an advantage to know what was really said in the original, and to test the exactness of the translator by continual reference to the _ipsissima verba_ of the author. when the knowledge of the ancient language is not sufficient even for this, it may still be of use for occasional comparison, even though the passage has to be fought through _à coupes de dictionnaire_. what most of us need in reference to the ancient languages is a frank resignation to a restriction of some kind. it is simply impossible for men occupied as most of us are in other pursuits to reach perfect scholarship in those languages, and if we reached it we should not have time to maintain it. in modern languages it is not so easy to fix limits satisfactorily. you may resolve to read french or german without either writing or speaking them, and that would be an effectual limit, certainly. but in practice it is found difficult to keep within that boundary if ever you travel or have intercourse with foreigners. and when once you begin to speak, it is so humiliating to speak badly, that a lover of soundness in accomplishment will never rest perfectly satisfied until he speaks like a cultivated native, which nobody ever did except under peculiar family conditions. in music the limits are found more easily. the amateur musician is frequently not inferior in feeling and taste to the more accomplished professional, and by selecting those compositions which require much feeling and taste for their interpretation, but not so much manual skill, he may reach a sufficient success. the art is to choose the very simplest music (provided of course that it is beautiful, which it frequently is), and to avoid all technical difficulties which are not really necessary to the expression of feeling. the amateur ought also to select the easiest instrument, an instrument in which the notes are made for him already, rather than one which compels him to fix the notes as he is playing. the violin tempts amateurs who have a deep feeling for music because it renders feeling as no other instrument can render it, but the difficulty of just intonation is almost insuperable unless the whole time is given to that one instrument. it is a fatal error to perform on several different instruments, and an amateur who has done so may find a desirable limitation in restricting himself to one. much time is saved by following pursuits which help each other. it is a great help to a landscape painter to know the botany of the country he works in, for botany gives the greatest possible distinctness to his memory of all kinds of vegetation. therefore, if a landscape painter takes to the study of science at all, he would do well to study botany, which would be of use in his painting, rather than chemistry or mathematics, which would be entirely disconnected from it. the memory easily retains the studies which are auxiliary to the chief pursuit. entomologists remember plants well, the reason being that they find insects in them, just as leslie the painter had an excellent memory for houses where there were any good pictures to be found. the secret of order and proportion in our studies is the true secret of economy in time. to have one main pursuit and several auxiliaries, but none that are not auxiliary, is the true principle of arrangement. many hard workers have followed pursuits as widely disconnected as possible, but this was for the refreshment of absolute change, not for the economy of time. lastly, it is a deplorable waste of time to leave fortresses untaken in our rear. whatever has to be mastered ought to be mastered so thoroughly that we shall not have to come back to it when we ought to be carrying the war far into the enemy's country. but to study on this sound principle, we require not to be hurried. and this is why, to a sincere student, all external pressure, whether of examiners, or poverty, or business engagements, which causes him to leave work behind him which was not done as it ought to have been done, is so grievously, so intolerably vexatious. letter ii. to a young man of great talent and energy who had magnificent plans for the future. mistaken estimates about time and occasion--the unknown element--procrastination often time's best preserver--napoleon's advice to do nothing at all--use of deliberation and of intervals of leisure--artistic advantages of calculating time--prevalent childishness about time--illusions about reading--bad economy of reading in languages we have not mastered--that we ought to be thrifty of time, but not avaricious--time necessary in production--men who work best under the sense of pressure--rossini--that these cases prove nothing against time-thrift--the waste of tune from miscalculation--people calculate accurately for short spaces, but do not calculate so well for long ones--reason for this--stupidity of the philistines about wasted time--töpffer and claude tillier--retrospective miscalculations, and the regrets that result from them. have you ever observed that we pay much more attention to a wise passage when it is quoted, than when we read it in the original author? on the same principle, people will give a higher price to a picture-dealer than they would have given to the painter himself. the picture that has been once bought has a recommendation, and the quoted passage is both recommended and isolated from the context. trusting to this well-known principle, although i am aware that you have read everything that sir arthur helps has published, i proceed to make the following quotation from one of his wisest books. "time and occasion are the two important circumstances in human life, as regards which the most mistaken estimates are made. and the error is universal. it besets even the most studious and philosophic men. this may notably be seen in the present day, when many most distinguished men have laid down projects for literature and philosophy, to be accomplished by them in their own lifetime, which would require several men and many lifetimes to complete; and, generally speaking, if any person, who has passed the meridian of life, looks back upon his career, he will probably own that his greatest errors have arisen from his not having made sufficient allowance for the length of time which his various schemes required for their fulfilment." there are many traditional maxims about time which insist upon its brevity, upon the necessity of using it whilst it is there, upon the impossibility of recovering what is lost; but the practical effect of these maxims upon conduct can scarcely be said to answer to their undeniable importance. the truth is, that although they tell us to economize our time, they cannot, in the nature of things, instruct us as to the methods by which it is to be economized. human life is so extremely various and complicated, whilst it tends every day to still greater variety and complication, that all maxims of a general nature require a far higher degree of intelligence in their application to individual cases than it ever cost originally to invent them. any person gifted with ordinary common sense can perceive that life is short, that time flies, that we ought to make good use of the present; but it needs the union of much experience, with the most consummate wisdom, to know exactly what ought to be done and what ought to be left undone--the latter being frequently by far the more important of the two. amongst the favorable influences of my early life was the kindness of a venerable country gentleman, who had seen a great deal of the world and passed many years, before he inherited his estates, in the practice of a laborious profession. i remember a theory of his, that experience was much less valuable than is generally supposed, because, except in matters of simple routine, the problems that present themselves to us for solution are nearly always dangerous from the presence of some unknown element. the unknown element he regarded as a hidden pitfall, and he warned me that in my progress through life i might always expect to tumble into it. this saying of his has been so often confirmed since then, that i now count upon the pitfall quite as a matter of certainty. very frequently i have escaped it, but more by good luck than good management. sometimes i have tumbled into it, and when this misfortune occurred it has not unfrequently been in consequence of having acted upon the advice of some very knowing and experienced person indeed. we have all read, when we were boys, captain marryat's "midshipman easy." there is a passage in that story which may serve as an illustration of what is constantly happening in actual life. the boats of the _harpy_ were ordered to board one of the enemy's vessels; young easy was in command of one of these boats, and as they had to wait he began to fish. after they had received the order to advance, he delayed a little to catch his fish, and this delay not only saved him from being sunk by the enemy's broadside, but enabled him to board the frenchman. here the pitfall was avoided by idling away a minute of time on an occasion when minutes were like hours; yet it was mere luck, not wisdom, which led to the good result. there was a sad railway accident on one of the continental lines last autumn; a notable personage would have been in the train if he had arrived in time for it, but his miscalculation saved him. in matters where there is no risk of the loss of life, but only of the waste of a portion of it in unprofitable employment, it frequently happens that procrastination, which is reputed to be the thief of time, becomes its best preserver. suppose that you undertake an enterprise, but defer the execution of it from day to day: it is quite possible that in the interval some fact may accidentally come to your knowledge which would cause a great modification of your plan, or even its complete abandonment. every thinking person is well aware that the enormous loss of time caused by the friction of our legislative machinery has preserved the country from a great deal of crude and ill-digested legislation. even napoleon the great who had a rapidity of conception and of action so far surpassing that of other kings and commanders that it seems to us almost supernatural, said that when you did not quite know what ought to be done it was best to do nothing at all. one of the most distinguished of living painters said exactly the same thing with reference to the practice of his art, and added that very little time would be needed for the actual execution of a picture if only the artist knew beforehand how and where to lay the color. it so often happens that mere activity is a waste of time, that people who have a morbid habit of being busy are often terrible time-wasters, whilst, on the contrary, those who are judiciously deliberate, and allow themselves intervals of leisure, see the way before them in those intervals, and save time by the accuracy of their calculations. a largely intelligent thrift of time is necessary to all great works--and many works are very great indeed relatively to the energies of a single individual, which pass unperceived in the tumult of the world. the advantages of calculating time are artistic as well as economical. i think that, in this respect, magnificent as are the cathedrals which the gothic builders have left us, they committed an artistic error in the very immensity of their plans. they do not appear to have reflected that from the continual changes of fashion in architecture, incongruous work would be sure to intrude itself before their gigantic projects could be realized by the generations that were to succeed them. for a work of that kind to possess artistic unity, it ought to be completely realized within the space of forty years. how great is the charm of those perfect edifices which, like the sainte chapelle, are the realization of one sublime idea? and those changes in national thought which have made the old cathedrals a jumble of incongruous styles, have their parallel in the life of every individual workman. we change from year to year, and any work which occupies us for very long will be wanting in unity of manner. men are apt enough of themselves to fall into the most astonishing delusions about the opportunities which time affords, but they are even more deluded by the talk of the people about them. when children hear that a new carriage has been ordered of the builder, they expect to see it driven up to the door in a fortnight, with the paint quite dry on the panels. all people are children in this respect, except the workman, who knows the endless details of production; and the workman himself, notwithstanding the lessons of experience, makes light of the future task. what gigantic plans we scheme, and how little we advance in the labor of a day! three pages of the book (to be half erased to-morrow), a bit of drapery in the picture that will probably have to be done over again, the imperceptible removal of an ounce of marble-dust from the statue that seems as if it never would be finished; so much from dawn to twilight has been the accomplishment of the golden hours. if there is one lesson which experience teaches, surely it is this, to make plans that are strictly limited, and to arrange our work in a practicable way within the limits that we must accept. others expect so much from us that it seems as if we had accomplished nothing. "what! have you done only that?" they say, or we know by their looks that they are thinking it. the most illusory of all the work that we propose to ourselves is reading. it seems so easy to read, that we intend, in the indefinite future, to master the vastest literatures. we cannot bring ourselves to admit that the library we have collected is in great part closed to us simply by want of time. a dear friend of mine, who was a solicitor with a large practice, indulged in wonderful illusions about reading, and collected several thousand volumes, all fine editions, but he died without having cut their leaves. i like the university habit of making reading a business, and estimating the mastery of a few authors as a just title to consideration for scholarship. i should like very well to be shut up in a garden for a whole summer with no literature but the "faëry queene," and one year i very nearly realized that project, but publishers and the postman interfered with it. after all, this business of reading ought to be less illusory than most others, for printers divide books into pages, which they number, so that, with a moderate skill in arithmetic, one ought to be able to foresee the limits of his possibilities. there is another observation which may be suggested, and that is to take note of the time required for reading different languages. we read very slowly when the language is imperfectly mastered, and we need the dictionary, whereas in the native tongue we see the whole page almost at a glance, as if it were a picture. people whose time for reading is limited ought not to waste it in grammars and dictionaries, but to confine themselves resolutely to a couple of languages, or three at the very utmost, notwithstanding the contempt of polyglots, who estimate your learning by the variety of your tongues. it is a fearful throwing away of time, from the literary point of view, to begin more languages than you can master or retain, and to be always puzzling yourself about irregular verbs. all plans for sparing time in intellectual matters ought, however, to proceed upon the principle of thrift, and not upon the principle of avarice. the object of the thrifty man in money matters is so to lay out his money as to get the best possible result from his expenditure; the object of the avaricious man is to spend no more money than he can help. an artist who taught me painting often repeated a piece of advice which is valuable in other things than art, and which i try to remember whenever patience fails. he used to say to me, "_give it time._" the mere length of time that we bestow upon our work is in itself a most important element of success, and if i object to the use of languages that we only half know, it is not because it takes us a long time to get through a chapter, but because we are compelled to think about syntax and conjugations which did not in the least occupy the mind of the author, when we ought rather to be thinking about those things which _did_ occupy his mind, about the events which he narrated, or the characters that he imagined or described. there are, in truth, only two ways of impressing anything on the memory, either intensity or duration. if you saw a man struck down by an assassin, you would remember the occurrence all your life; but to remember with equal vividness a picture of the assassination, you would probably be obliged to spend a month or two in copying it. the subjects of our studies rarely produce an intensity of emotion sufficient to ensure perfect recollection without the expenditure of time. and when your object is not to learn, but to produce, it is well to bear in mind that everything requires a certain definite time-outlay, which _cannot_ be reduced without an inevitable injury to quality. a most experienced artist, a man of the very rarest executive ability, wrote to me the other day about a set of designs i had suggested. "if i could but get the time,"--the large capitals are his own,--"for, somehow or other, let a design be never so studiously simple in the masses, it _will_ fill itself as it goes on, like the weasel in the fable who got into the meal-tub; and when the pleasure begins in attempting tone and mystery and intricacy, _away go the hours at a gallop_." a well-known and very successful english dramatist wrote to me: "when i am hurried, and have undertaken more work than i can execute in the time at my disposal, i am always perfectly paralyzed." there is another side to this subject which deserves attention. some men work best under the sense of pressure. simple compression evolves heat from iron, so that there is a flash of fire when a ball hits the side of an ironclad. the same law seems to hold good in the intellectual life of man, whenever he needs the stimulus of extraordinary excitement. rossini positively advised a young composer never to write his overture until the evening before the first performance. "nothing," he said, "excites inspiration like necessity; the presence of a copyist waiting for your work, and the view of a manager in despair tearing out his hair by handfuls. in italy in my time all the managers were bald at thirty. i composed the overture to 'othello' in a small room in the barbaja palace, where the baldest and most ferocious of managers had shut me up by force with nothing but a dish of maccaroni, and the threat that i should not leave the place alive until i had written the last note. i wrote the overture to the 'gazza ladra' on the day of the first performance, in the upper loft of the la scala, where i had been confined by the manager, under the guard of four scene-shifters who had orders to throw my text out of the window bit by bit to copyists, who were waiting below to transcribe it. in default of music i was to be thrown out myself." i have quoted the best instance known to me of this voluntary seeking after pressure, but striking as it is, even this instance does not weaken what i said before. for observe, that although rossini deferred the composition of his overture till the evening before the first performance, he knew very well that he could do it thoroughly in the time. he was like a clever schoolboy who knows that he can learn his lesson in the quarter of an hour before the class begins; or he was like an orator who knows that he can deliver a passage and compose at the same time the one which is to follow, so that he prefers to arrange his speech in the presence of his audience. since rossini always allowed himself all the time that was necessary for what he had to do, it is clear that he did not sin against the great time-necessity. the express which can travel from london to edinburgh in a night may leave the english metropolis on saturday evening although it is due in scotland on sunday, and still act with the strictest consideration about time. the blameable error lies in miscalculation, and not in rapidity of performance. nothing _wastes_ time like miscalculation. it negatives all results. it is the parent of incompleteness, the great author of the unfinished and the unserviceable. almost every intellectual man has laid out great masses of time on five or six different branches of knowledge which are not of the least use to him, simply because he has not carried them far enough, and could not carry them far enough in the time he had to give. yet this might have been ascertained at the beginning by the simplest arithmetical calculation. the experience of students in all departments of knowledge has quite definitely ascertained the amount of time that is necessary for success in them, and the successful student can at once inform the aspirant how far he is likely to travel along the road. what is the use, to anybody, of having just enough skill to feel vexed with himself that he has no more, and yet angry at other people for not admiring the little that he possesses? i wish to direct your attention to a cause which more than any other produces disappointment in ordinary intellectual pursuits. it is this. people can often calculate with the utmost accuracy what they can accomplish in ten minutes or even in ten hours, and yet the very same persons will make the most absurd miscalculations about what they can accomplish in ten years. there is of course a reason for this: if there were not, so many sensible people would not suffer from the delusion. the reason is, that owing to the habits of human life there is a certain elasticity in large spaces of time that include nights, and mealtimes, and holidays. we fancy that we shall be able, by working harder than we have been accustomed to work, and by stealing hours from all the different kinds of rest and amusement, to accomplish far more in the ten years that are to come than we have ever actually accomplished in the same space. and to a certain extent this may be very true. no doubt a man whose mind has become seriously aware of the vast importance of economizing his time will economize it better than he did in the days before the new conviction came to him. no doubt, after skill in our work has been confirmed, we shall perform it with increased speed. but the elasticity of time is rather that of leather than that of india-rubber. there is certainly a degree of elasticity, but the degree is strictly limited. the true master of time-thrift would be no more liable to illusion about years than about hours, and would act as prudently when working for remote results as for near ones. not that we ought to work as if we were always under severe pressure. little books are occasionally published in which we are told that it is a sin to lose a minute. from the intellectual point of view this doctrine is simply stupid. what the philistines call wasted time is often rich in the most varied experience to the intelligent. if all that we have learned in idle moments could be suddenly expelled from our minds by some chemical process, it is probable that they would be worth very little afterwards. what, after such a process, would have remained to shakespeare, scott, cervantes, thackeray, dickens, hogarth, goldsmith, molière? when these great students of human nature were learning most, the sort of people who write the foolish little books just alluded to would have wanted to send them home to the dictionary or the desk. töpffer and claude tillier, both men of delicate and observant genius, attached the greatest importance to hours of idleness. töpffer said that a year of downright loitering was a desirable element in a liberal education; whilst claude tillier went even farther, and boldly affirmed that "le temps le mieux employé est celui que l'on perd." let us not think too contemptuously of the miscalculators of time, since not one of us is exempt from their folly. we have all made miscalculations, or more frequently have simply omitted calculation altogether, preferring childish illusion to a manly examination of realities; and afterwards as life advances another illusion steals over us not less vain than the early one, but bitter as that was sweet. we now begin to reproach ourselves with all the opportunities that have been neglected, and now our folly is to imagine that we might have done impossible wonders if we had only exercised a little resolution. we might have been thorough classical scholars, and spoken all the great modern languages, and written immortal books, and made a colossal fortune. miscalculations again, and these the most imbecile of all; for the youth who forgets to reason in the glow of happiness and hope, is wiser than the man who overestimates what was once possible that he may embitter the days which remain to him. letter iii. to a man of business who desired to make himself better acquainted with literature, but whose time for reading was limited. victor jacquemont on the intellectual labors of the germans--business may be set off as the equivalent to one of their pursuits--necessity for regularity in the economy of time--what may be done in two hours a day--evils of interruption--florence nightingale--real nature of interruption--instance from the apology of socrates. in the charming and precious letters of victor jacquemont, a man whose life was dedicated to culture, and who not only lived for it, but died for it, there is a passage about the intellectual labors of germans, which takes due account of the expenditure of time. "comme j'étais étonné," he says, "de la prodigieuse variété et de l'étendue de connaissances des allemands, je demandai un jour à l'un de mes amis, saxon de naissance et l'un des premiers géologues de l'europe, comment ses compatriotes s'y prenaient pour savoir tant de choses. voici sa réponse, à peu près: 'un allemand (moi excepté qui suis le plus paresseux des hommes) se lève de bonne heure, été et hiver, à cinq heures environ. il travaille quatre heures avant le déjeuner, fumant quelquefois pendant tout ce temps, sans que cela nuise à son application. son déjeuner dure une demi-heure, et il reste, après, une autre demi-heure à causer avec sa femme et à faire jouer ses enfants. il retourne au travail pour six heures; dîne sans se presser; fume une heure après le dîner, jouant encore avec ses enfants; et avant de se coucher il travaille encore quatre heures. il recommence tous les jours, ne sortant jamais.--voilà,' me dit mon ami, 'comment oersted, le plus grand physicien de l'allemagne, en est aussi le plus grand médecin; voilà comment kant le métaphysicien était un des plus savants astronomes de l'europe, et comment goethe, qui en est actuellement le premier littérateur, dans presque tous les genres, et le plus fécond, est excellent botaniste, minéralogiste, physicien.'"[ ] here is something to encourage, and something to discourage you at the same time. the number of hours which these men have given in order to become what they were, is so great as to be past all possibility of imitation by a man occupied in business. it is clear that, with your counting-house to occupy you during the best hours of every day, you can never labor for your intellectual culture with that unremitting application which these men have given for theirs. but, on the other hand, you will perceive that these extraordinary workers have hardly ever been wholly dedicated to one pursuit, and the reason for this in most cases is clear. men who go through a prodigious amount of work feel the necessity for varying it. the greatest intellectual workers i have known personally have varied their studies as kant and goethe did, often taking up subjects of the most opposite kinds, as for instance imaginative literature and the higher mathematics, the critical and practical study of fine art and the natural sciences, music, and political economy. the class of intellects which arrogate to themselves the epithet "practical," but which we call _philistine_, always oppose this love of variety, and have an unaffected contempt for it, but these are matters beyond their power of judgment. they cannot know the needs of the intellectual life, because they have never lived it. the practice of all the greatest intellects has been to cultivate themselves variously, and if they have always done so, it must be because they have felt the need of it. the encouraging inference which you may draw from this in reference to your own case is that, since all intellectual men have had more than one pursuit, you may set off your business against the most absorbing of their pursuits, and for the rest be still almost as rich in time as they have been. you may study literature as some painters have studied it, or science as some literary men have studied it. the first step is to establish a regulated economy of your time, so that, without interfering with a due attention to business and to health, you may get two clear hours every day for reading of the best kind. it is not much, some men would tell you that it is not enough, but i purposely fix the expenditure of time at a low figure because i want it to be always practicable consistently with all the duties and necessary pleasures of your life. if i told you to read four hours every day, i know beforehand what would be the consequence. you would keep the rule for three days, by an effort, then some engagement would occur to break it, and you would have no rule at all. and please observe that the two hours are to be given quite regularly, because, when the time given is not much, regularity is quite essential. two hours a day, regularly, make more than seven hundred hours in a year, and in seven hundred hours, wisely and uninterruptedly occupied, much may be done in anything. permit me to insist upon that word _uninterruptedly_. few people realize the full evil of an interruption, few people know all that is implied by it. after warning nurses against the evils of interruption, florence nightingale says:-- "these things are not fancy. if we consider that, with sick as with well, every thought decomposes some nervous matter--that decomposition as well as re-composition of nervous matter is always going on, and more quickly with the sick than with the well,--that to obtrude another thought upon the brain whilst it is in the act of destroying nervous matter by thinking, is calling upon it to make a new exertion--if we consider these things, which are facts, not fancies, we shall remember that we are doing positive injury by interrupting, by startling a 'fanciful' person, as it is called. alas, it is no fancy. "if the invalid is forced by his avocations to continue occupations requiring much thinking, the injury is doubly great. in feeding a patient suffering under delirium or stupor you may suffocate him by giving him his food suddenly, but if you rub his lips gently with a spoon and thus attract his attention, he will swallow the food unconsciously, but with perfect safety. thus it is with the brain. if you offer it a thought, especially one requiring a decision, abruptly, you do it a real, not fanciful, injury. never speak to a sick person suddenly; but, at the same time, do not keep his expectation on the tiptoe." to this you will already have answered, mentally, that you are not a patient suffering under either delirium or stupor, and that nobody needs to rub your lips gently with a spoon. but miss nightingale does not consider interruption baneful to sick persons only. "this rule indeed," she continues, "applies to the well quite as much as to the sick. _i have never known persons who exposed themselves for years to constant interruption who did not muddle away their intellects by it at last._ the process, with them, may be accomplished without pain. with the sick, pain gives warning of the injury." interruption is an evil to the reader which must be estimated very differently from ordinary business interruptions. the great question about interruption is not whether it compels you to divert your attention to other facts, but whether it compels you to tune your whole mind to another diapason. shopkeepers are incessantly compelled to change the subject; a stationer is asked for notepaper one minute, for sealing-wax the next, and immediately afterwards for a particular sort of steel pen. the subjects of his thoughts are changed very rapidly, but the general state of his mind is not changed; he is always strictly in his shop, as much mentally as physically. when an attorney is interrupted in the study of a case by the arrival of a client who asks him questions about another case, the change is more difficult to bear; yet even here the general state of mind, the legal state of mind, is not interfered with. but now suppose a reader perfectly absorbed in his author, an author belonging very likely to another age and another civilization entirely different from ours. suppose that you are reading the defence of socrates in plato, and have the whole scene before you as in a picture: the tribunal of the five hundred, the pure greek architecture, the interested athenian public, the odious melitus, the envious enemies, the beloved and grieving friends whose names are dear to us, and immortal; and in the centre you see one figure draped like a poor man, in cheap and common cloth, that he wears winter and summer, with a face plain to downright ugliness, but an air of such genuine courage and self-possession that no acting could imitate it; and you hear the firm voice saying-- [greek: timatai d' oun moi hanêr thanatou eien.][ ] you are just beginning the splendid paragraph where socrates condemns himself to maintenance in the prytaneum, and if you can only be safe from interruption till it is finished, you will have one of those minutes of noble pleasure which are the rewards of intellectual toil. but if you are reading in the daytime in a house where there are women and children, or where people can fasten upon you for pottering details of business, you may be sure that you will _not_ be able to get to the end of the passage without in some way or other being rudely awakened from your dream, and suddenly brought back into the common world. the loss intellectually is greater than any one who had not suffered from it could imagine. people think that an interruption is merely the unhooking of an electric chain, and that the current will flow, when the chain is hooked on again, just as it did before. to the intellectual and imaginative student an interruption is not that; it is the destruction of a picture. letter iv. to a student who felt hurried and driven. people who like to be hurried--sluggish temperaments gain vivacity under pressure--routine work may be done at increased speed--the higher intellectual work cannot be done hurriedly--the art of avoiding hurry consists in selection--how it was practised by a good landscape painter--selection in reading and writing--some studies allow the play of selection more than others do--languages permit it less than natural sciences--difficulty of using selection in the fulfilment of literary engagements. so you have got yourself into that pleasant condition which is about as agreeable, and as favorable to fruitful study and observation, as the condition of an over-driven cab-horse! very indolent men, who will not work at all unless under the pressure of immediate urgency, sometimes tell us that they actually like to be hurried; but although certain kinds of practical work which have become perfectly easy from habit may be got through at a great pace when the workman feels that there is an immediate necessity for effort, it is certainly not true that hurry is favorable to sound study of any kind. work which merely runs in a fixed groove may be urged on occasionally at express speed without any perceptible injury to the quality of it. a clever violinist can play a passage _prestissimo_ as correctly as if he played it _adagio_; a banker's clerk can count money very rapidly with positively less risk of error than if he counted it as you and i do. a person of sluggish temperament really gains in vivacity when he is pressed for time, and becomes during those moments of excited energy a clearer-headed and more able person than he is under ordinary circumstances. it is therefore not surprising that he should find himself able to accomplish more under the great stimulus of an immediate necessity than he is able to do in the dulness of his every-day existence. great prodigies of labor have been performed in this way to avert impending calamity, especially by military officers in critical times like those of the sepoy rebellion; and in the obscurer lives of tradesmen, immense exertions are often made to avert the danger of bankruptcy, when without the excitement of a serious anxiety of that kind the tradesman would not feel capable of more than a moderate and reasonable degree of attention to his affairs. but notwithstanding the many instances of this kind which might be cited, and the many more which might easily be collected, the truth remains that the highest kinds of intellectual labor can hardly ever be properly performed when the degree of pressure is in the least excessive. you may, for example, if you have the kind of ability which makes a good journalist, write an effective leader with your watch lying on the table, and finish it exactly when the time is up; but if you had the kind of ability which makes a good poet, you could not write anything like highly-finished poetry against time. it is equally clear that scientific discovery, which, though it may flash suddenly upon the mind of the discoverer, is always the result of long brooding over the most patient observations, must come at its own moments, and cannot be commanded. the activity of poets and discoverers would be paralyzed by exigencies which stimulate the activity of soldiers and men of business. the truth is, that intelligence and energy are beneficially stimulated by pressure from without, whereas the working of the higher intellect is impeded by it, and that to such a degree that in times of the greatest pressure the high intellectual life is altogether suspended, to leave free play to the lower but more immediately serviceable intelligence. this being so, it becomes a necessary part of the art of intellectual living so to order our work as to shield ourselves if possible, at least during a certain portion of our time, from the evil consequences of hurry. the whole secret lies in a single word--selection. an excellent landscape painter told me that whatever he had to do, he always took the greatest pains to arrange his work so as never to have his tranquillity disturbed by haste. his system, which is quite applicable to many other things than landscape painting, was based on the principle of selection. he always took care to determine beforehand how much time he could devote to each sketch or study, and then, from the mass of natural facts before him, selected the most valuable facts which could be recorded in the time at his disposal. but however short that time might be, he was always perfectly cool and deliberate in the employment of it. indeed this coolness and his skill in selection helped each other mutually, for he chose wisely because he was cool, and he had time to be cool by reason of the wisdom of his selection. in his little memoranda, done in five minutes, the lines were laid just as deliberately as the tints on an elaborate picture; the difference being in choice only, not in speed. now if we apply this art of selection to all our labors it will give us much of that landscape painter's enviable coolness, and enable us to work more satisfactorily. suppose that instead of painting and sketching we have to do a great deal of reading and writing: the art is to select the reading which will be most useful to our purpose, and, in writing, to select the words which will express our meaning with the greatest clearness in a little space. the art of reading is to skip judiciously. whole libraries may be skipped in these days, when we have the results of them in our modern culture without going over the ground again. and even of the books we decide to read, there are almost always large portions which do not concern us, and which we are sure to forget the day after we have read them. the art is to skip all that does not concern us, whilst missing nothing that we really need. no external guidance can teach us this; for nobody but ourselves can guess what the needs of our intellect may be. but let us select with decisive firmness, independently of other people's advice, independently of the authority of custom. in every newspaper that comes to hand there is a little bit that we ought to read; the art is to find that little bit, and waste no time over the rest. some studies permit the exercise of selection better than others do. a language, once undertaken, permits very little selection indeed, since you must know the whole vocabulary, or nearly so, to be able to read and speak. on the other hand, the natural sciences permit the most prudent exercise of selection. for example, in botany you may study as few plants as you choose. in writing, the art of selection consists in giving the utmost effect to expression in the fewest words; but of this art i say little, for who can contend against an inevitable trade-necessity? almost every author of ordinary skill could, when pressed for time, find a briefer expression for his thoughts, but the real difficulty in fulfilling literary engagements does not lie in the expression of the thought, it lies in the sufficiently rapid production of a certain quantity of copy. for this purpose i fear that selection would be of very little use--of no more use, in fact, than in any other branch of manufacture where (if a certain standard is kept up to) quantity in sale is more important than quality of material. letter v. to a friend who, though he had no profession, could not find time for his various intellectual pursuits. compensations resulting from the necessity for time--opportunity only exists for us so far as we have time to make use of it--this _or_ that, not this _and_ that--danger of apparently unlimited opportunities--the intellectual training of our ancestors--montaigne the essayist--reliance upon the compensations. it has always seemed to me that the great and beautiful principle of compensation is more clearly seen in the distribution and effects of time than in anything else within the scope of our experience. the good use of one opportunity very frequently compensates us for the absence of another, and it does so because opportunity is itself so dependent upon time that, although the best opportunities may apparently be presented to us, we can make no use of them unless we are able to give them the time that they require. you, who have the best possible opportunities for culture, find a certain sadness and disappointment because you cannot avail yourself of all of them; but the truth is, that opportunity only exists for us just so far as we are able to make use of it, and our power to do so is often nothing but a question of time. if our days are well employed we are sure to have done some good thing which we should have been compelled to neglect if we had been occupied about anything else. hence every genuine worker has rich compensations which ought to console him amply for his shortcomings, and to enable him to meet comparisons without fear. those who aspire to the intellectual life, but have no experience of its difficulties, very frequently envy men so favorably situated as you are. it seems to them that all the world's knowledge is accessible to you, and that you have simply to cull its fruits as we gather grapes in a vineyard. they forget the power of time, and the restrictions which time imposes. "this _or_ that, not this _and_ that," is the rule to which all of us have to submit, and it strangely equalizes the destinies of men. the time given to the study of one thing is withdrawn from the study of another, and the hours of the day are limited alike for all of us. how difficult it is to reconcile the interests of our different pursuits! indeed it seems like a sort of polygamy to _have_ different pursuits. it is natural to think of them as jealous wives tormenting some mormon prophet. there is great danger in apparently unlimited opportunities, and a splendid compensation for those who are confined by circumstances to a narrow but fruitful field. the englishman gets more civilization out of a farm and a garden than the red indian out of the space encircled by his horizon. our culture gains in thoroughness what it loses in extent. this consideration goes far to explain the fact that although our ancestors were so much less favorably situated than we are, they often got as good an intellectual training from the literature that was accessible to them, as we from our vaster stores. we live in an age of essayists, and yet what modern essayist writes better than old montaigne? all that a thoughtful and witty writer needs for the sharpening of his intellect, montaigne found in the ancient literature that was accessible to him, and in the life of the age he lived in. born in our own century, he would have learned many other things, no doubt, and read many other books, but these would have absorbed the hours that he employed not less fruitfully with the authors that he loved in the little library up in the third story of his tower, as he tells us, where he could see all his books at once, set upon five rows of shelves round about him. in earlier life he bought "this sort of furniture" for "ornament and outward show," but afterwards quite abandoned that, and procured such volumes only "as supplied his own need." to supply our own need, within the narrow limits of the few and transient hours that we can call our own, is enough for the wise everywhere, as it was for montaigne in his tower. let us resolve to do as much as that, not more, and then rely upon the golden compensations. note.--"supposing that the executive and critical powers always exist in some correspondent degree in the same person, still they cannot be cultivated to the same extent. the attention required for the development of a theory is necessarily withdrawn from the design of a drawing, and the time devoted to the realization of a form is lost to the solution of a problem."--mr. ruskin, _in the preface to the third volume of_ "_modern painters_." in the case of mr. ruskin, in that of mr. dante rossetti, and in all cases where the literary and artistic gifts are naturally pretty evenly balanced, the preponderance of an hour a day given to one or the other class of studies may have settled the question whether the student was to be chiefly artist or chiefly author. the enormous importance of the distribution of time is never more clearly manifested than in cases of this kind. mr. ruskin might certainly have attained rank as a painter, rossetti might have been as prolific in poetry as he is excellent. what these gifted men are now is not so much a question of talent as of time. in like manner the question whether ingres was to be known as a painter or as a violinist was settled by the employment of hours rather than by any preponderance of faculty. footnotes: [ ] "being astonished at the prodigious variety and at the extent of knowledge possessed by the germans, i begged one of my friends, saxon by birth, and one of the foremost geologists in europe, to tell me how his countrymen managed to know so many things. here is his answer, nearly in his own words:--'a german (except myself, who am the idlest of men) gets up early, summer and winter, at about five o'clock. he works four hours before breakfast, sometimes smoking all the time, which does not interfere with his application. his breakfast lasts half an hour, and he remains, afterwards, another half-hour talking with his wife and playing with his children. he returns to his work for six hours, dines without hurrying himself, smokes an hour after dinner, playing again with his children, and before he goes to bed he works four hours more. he begins again every day, and never goes out. this is how it comes to pass that oersted, the greatest natural philosopher in germany, is at the same time the greatest physician; this is how kant the metaphysician was one of the most learned astronomers in europe, and how goethe, who is at present the first and most fertile author in germany in almost all kinds of literature, is an excellent botanist, mineralogist, and natural philosopher.'" [ ] the man, then, judges me worthy of death. be it so. part v. _the influences of money._ letter i. to a very rich student. the author of "vathek"--the double temptation of wealth--rich men tempted to follow occupations in which their wealth is useful--pressure of social duties on the rich--the duchess of orleans--the rich man's time not his own--the rich may help the general intellectual advancement by the exercise of patronage--dr. carpenter--franz woepke. it has always seemed to me a very remarkable and noteworthy circumstance that although mr. beckford, the author of "vathek," produced in his youth a story which bears all the signs of true inventive genius, he never produced anything in after-life which posterity cares to preserve. i read "vathek" again quite recently, to see how far my early enthusiasm for it might have been due to that passion for orientalism which reigned amongst us many years ago, but this fresh perusal left an impression which only genius leaves. beckford really had invention, and an extraordinary narrative power. that such faculties, after having once revealed themselves, should contentedly have remained dormant ever afterwards, is one of the most curious facts in the history of the human mind, and it is the more curious that beckford lived to a very advanced age. beckford's case appears to have been one of those in which great wealth diminishes or wholly paralyzes the highest energy of the intellect, leaving the lower energies free to exert less noble kinds of activity. a refined self-indulgence became the habit of his life, and he developed simply into a dilettant. even his love for the fine arts did not rise above the indulgence of an elegant and cultivated taste. although he lived at the very time most favorable to the appearance of a great critic in architecture and painting, the time of a great architectural revival and of the growth of a vigorous and independent school of contemporary art, he exercised no influence beyond that of a wealthy virtuoso. his love of the beautiful began and ended in simple personal gratification; it led to no noble labor, to no elevating severity of discipline. englishman though he was, he filled his oriental tower with masterpieces from italy and holland, only to add form and color to the luxuries of his reverie, behind his gilded lattices. and when he raised that other tower at fonthill, and the slaves of the lamp toiled at it by torchlight to gratify his oriental impatience, he exercised no influence upon the confusion of his epoch more durable than that hundred yards of masonry which sank into a shapeless heap whilst as yet azrael spared its author. he to whom nature and fortune had been so prodigal of their gifts, he whom reynolds painted and mozart instructed, who knew the poets of seven literatures, culling their jewels like flowers in seven enchanted gardens--he to whom the palaces of knowledge all opened their golden gates even in his earliest youth, to whom were also given riches and length of days, for whom a thousand craftsmen toiled in europe and a thousand slaves beyond the sea,[ ]--what has this gifted mortal left as the testimony of his power, as the trace of his fourscore years upon the earth? only the reminiscence of a vague splendor, like the fast-fading recollection of a cloud that burned at sunset, and one small gem of intellectual creation that lives like a tiny star. if wealth had only pleasure to offer as a temptation from intellectual labor, its influence would be easier to resist. men of the english race are often grandly strong in resistance to every form of voluptuousness; the race is fond of comfort and convenience, but it does not sacrifice its energy to enervating self-indulgence. there is, however, another order of temptations in great wealth, to which englishmen not only yield, but yield with a satisfied conscience, even with a sense of obedience to duty. wealth carries pleasure in her left hand, but in her right she bears honor and power. the rich man feels that he can do so much by the mere exercise of his command over the labor of others, and so little by any unaided labor of his own, that he is always strongly tempted to become, not only physically but intellectually, a director of work rather that a workman. even his modesty, when he is modest, tends to foster his reliance on others rather than himself. all that he tries to do is done so much better by those who make it their profession, that he is always tempted to fall back upon his paying power as his most satisfactory and effective force. there are cases in which this temptation is gloriously overcome, where men of great wealth compel every one to acknowledge that their money is nothing more than a help to their higher life, like the charger that bore wellington at waterloo, serving him indeed usefully, but not detracting from the honor which is his due. but in these cases the life is usually active or administrative rather than intellectual. the rich man does not generally feel tempted to enter upon careers in which his command over labor is not an evident advantage, and this because men naturally seek those fields in which _all_ their superiorities tell. even the well known instance of lord rosse can scarcely be considered an exception to this rule, for although he was eminent in a science which has been followed by poor men with great distinction, his wealth was of use in the construction of his colossal telescope, which gave him a clear advantage over merely professional contemporaries. besides this natural desire to pursue careers in which their money may lessen the number of competitors, the rich are often diverted from purely intellectual pursuits by the social duties of their station, duties which it is impossible to avoid and difficult to keep within limits. the duchess of orleans (mother of the present count of paris) arranged her time with the greatest care so as to reserve a little of it for her own culture in uninterrupted solitude. by an exact system, and the exercise of the rarest firmness, she contrived to steal half an hour here and an hour there--enough no doubt, when employed as she employed them, to maintain her character as a very distinguished lady, yet still far from sufficient for the satisfactory pursuit of any great art or science. if it be difficult for the rich man to enter into the kingdom of heaven, it is also difficult for him to secure that freedom from interruption which is necessary to fit him for his entrance into the intellectual kingdom. he can scarcely allow himself to be absorbed in any great study, when he reflects on all the powerful means of social influence which he is suffering to lie idle. he is sure to possess by inheritance, or to have acquired in obedience to custom, a complicated and expensive machinery for the pleasures and purposes of society. there is game to be shot; there are hunters to be exercised; great houses to be filled with guests. so much is expected of the rich man, both in business and in pleasure, that his time is not his own, and he could not quit his station if he would. and yet the intellectual life, in its fruitful perfection, requires, i do not say the complete abandonment of the world, but it assuredly requires free and frequent spaces of labor in tranquil solitude, "retreats" like those commanded by the church of rome, but with more of study and less of contemplation. it would be useless to ask you to abdicate your power, and retreat into some hermitage with a library and a laboratory, without a thought of returning to your pleasant hall in yorkshire and your house in mayfair. you will not sell all and follow the light, but there is a life which you may powerfully encourage, yet only partially share. notwithstanding the increased facilities for earning a living which this age offers to the intellectual, the time that they are often compelled to give to the satisfaction of common material necessities is so much time withdrawn from the work which they alone can do. it is a lamentable waste of the highest and rarest kind of energy to compel minds that are capable of original investigation, of discovery, to occupy themselves in that mere vulgarization of knowledge, in popular lecturing and literature, which could be done just as efficiently by minds of a common order. it is an error of the present age to believe that the time for what is called patronage is altogether passed away. let me mention two instances to the contrary: one in which kindly help would have saved fifteen years of a noble life; another in which that kindly help did actually permit a man of exceptional endowment and equally exceptional industry to pursue investigations for which no other human being was so well qualified, and which were entirely incompatible with the earning of the daily bread. dr. carpenter has lately told us that, finding it impossible to unite the work of a general practitioner with the scientific researches upon which his heart was set, he gave up nine-tenths of his time for twenty years to popular lecturing and writing, in order that he might exist and devote the other tenth to science. "just as he was breaking down from the excessive strain upon mind and body which this life involved, an appointment was offered to dr. carpenter which gave him competence and sufficient leisure for the investigations which he has conducted to such important issues." suppose that during those twenty years of struggle he _had_ broken down like many another only a little less robust--what then? a mind lost to his country and the world. and would it not have been happier for him and for us if some of those men (of whom there are more in england than in any other land), who are so wealthy that their gold is positively a burden and an encumbrance, like too many coats in summer, had helped dr. carpenter at least a few years earlier, in some form that a man of high feeling might honorably accept? the other example that i shall mention is that of franz woepke, the mathematician and orientalist. a modest pension, supplied by an italian prince who was interested in the history of mathematics, gave woepke that peace which is incompatible with poverty, and enabled him to live grandly in his narrow lodging the noble intellectual life. was not this rightly and well done, and probably a much more effectual employment of the power of gold than if that italian prince had added some rare manuscripts to his own library without having time or knowledge to decipher them? i cannot but think that the rich may serve the cause of culture best by a judicious exercise of patronage--unless, indeed, they have within themselves the sense of that irresistible vocation which made humboldt use his fortune as the servant of his high ambition. the humboldts never are too rich; they possess their gold and are not possessed by it, and they are exempt from the duty of aiding others because they themselves have a use for all their powers. letter ii to a genius careless in money matters. danger of carelessness--inconveniences of poverty unfavorable to the intellectual life--necessity advances men in industrial occupations, but disturbs and interrupts the higher intellectual life--instances in science, literature, and art--careers aided by wealth--mr. ruskin--de saussure--work spoiled by poverty in the doing--the central passion of men of ability is to do their work well--the want of money the most common hindrance to excellence of work--de sénancour--bossuet-- sainte-beuve--shelley-- wordsworth--scott--kepler--tycho brahe--schiller--goethe--case of an eminent english philosopher, and of a french writer of school-primers--loss of time in making experiments on public taste--_surtout ne pas trop écrire_--auguste comte--the reaction of the intellectual against money-making--money the protector of the intellectual life. i have been anxious for you lately, and venture to write to you about the reasons for this anxiety. you are neither extravagant nor self-indulgent, yet it seems to me that your entire absorption in the higher intellectual pursuits has produced in you, as it frequently does, a carelessness about material interests of all kinds which is by far the most dangerous of all tempers to the pecuniary well-being of a man. sydney smith declared that no fortune could stand that temper long, and that we are on the high road to ruin the moment we think ourselves rich enough to be careless. let me observe, to begin with, that although the pursuit of wealth is not favorable to the intellectual life, the inconveniences of poverty are even less favorable to it. we are sometimes lectured on the great benefits of necessity as a stimulant to exertion, and it is implied that comfortable people would go much farther on the road to distinction if they were made uncomfortable by having to think perpetually about money. those who say this confound together the industry of the industrial and professional classes, and the labors of the more purely intellectual. it is clear that when the labor a man does is of such a nature that he will be paid for it in strict proportion to the time and effort he bestows, the need of money will be a direct stimulus to the best exertion he may be capable of. in all simple industrial occupations the need of money _does_ drive a man forwards, and is often, when he feels it in early life, the very origin and foundation of his fortune. there exists, in such occupations, a perfect harmony between the present necessity and the ultimate purpose of the life. wealth is the object of industry, and the first steps towards the possession of it are steps on the chosen path. the future captain of industry, who will employ thousands of workpeople and accumulate millions of money, is going straight to his splendid future when he gets up at five in the morning to work in another person's factory. to learn to be a builder of steam-vessels, it is necessary, even when you begin with capital, to pass through the manual trades, and you will only learn them the better if the wages are necessary to your existence. poverty in these cases only makes an intelligent man ground himself all the better in that stern practical training which is the basis of his future career. well, therefore, may those who have reached distinguished success in fields of practical activity extol the teachings of adversity. if it is a necessary part of your education that you should hammer rivets inside a steam-boiler, it is as well that your early habits should not be over-dainty. so it is observed that horny hands, in the colonies, get gold into them sooner than white ones. even in the liberal professions young men get on all the better for not being too comfortably off. if you have a comfortable private income to begin with, the meagre early rewards of professional life will seem too paltry to be worth hard striving, and so you will very likely miss the more ample rewards of maturity, since the common road to success is nothing but a gradual increase. and you miss education at the same time, for practice is the best of professional educators, and many successful lawyers and artists have had scarcely any other training. the daily habit of affairs trains men for the active business of the world, and if the purpose of their lives is merely to do what they are doing or to command others to do the same things, the more closely circumstances tie them down to their work, the better. but in the higher intellectual pursuits the necessity for immediate earning has an entirely different result. it comes, not as an educator, but as an interruption or suspension of education. all intellectual lives, however much they may differ in the variety of their purposes, have at least this purpose in common, that they are mainly devoted to self-education of one kind or another. an intellectual man who is forty years old is as much at school as an etonian of fourteen, and if you set him to earn more money than that which comes to him without especial care about it, you interrupt his schooling, exactly as selfish parents used to do when they sent their young children to the factory and prevented them from learning to read. the idea of the intellectual life is an existence passed almost entirely in study, yet preserving the results of its investigations. a day's writing will usually suffice to record the outcome of a month's research. necessity, instead of advancing your studies, stops them. whenever her harsh voice speaks it becomes your duty to shut your books, put aside your instruments, and do something that will fetch a price in the market. the man of science has to abandon the pursuit of a discovery to go and deliver a popular lecture a hundred miles off, for which he gets five pounds and his railway fare. the student of ancient literature has to read some feeble novel, and give three days of a valuable life to write an anonymous review which will bring him two pounds ten. the artist has to leave his serious picture to manufacture "pot-boilers," which will teach him nothing, but only spoil his hands and vitiate the public taste. the poet suspends his poem (which is promised to a publisher for christmas, and will be spoiled in consequence by hurry at the last) in order to write newspaper articles on subjects of which he has little knowledge and in which he takes no interest. and yet these are instances of those comparatively happy and fortunate needy who are only compelled to suspend their intellectual life, and who can cheer themselves in their enforced labor with the hope of shortly renewing it. what of those others who are pushed out of their path forever by the buffets of unkindly fortune? many a fine intellect has been driven into the deep quagmire, and has struggled in it vainly till death came, which but for that grim necessity might have scaled the immortal mountains. this metaphor of the mountains has led me, by a natural association of ideas, to think of a writer who has added to our enjoyment of their beauty, and i think of him the more readily that his career will serve as an illustration--far better than any imaginary career--of the very subject which just now occupies my mind. mr. ruskin is not only one of the best instances, but he is positively the very best instance except the two humboldts, of an intellectual career which has been greatly aided by material prosperity, and which would not have been possible without it. this does not in the least detract from the merit of the author of "modern painters," for it needed a rare force of resolution, or a powerful instinct of genius, to lead the life of a severe student under every temptation to indolence. still it is true that mr. ruskin's career would have been impossible for a poor man, however gifted. a poor man would not have had access to mr. ruskin's materials, and one of his chief superiorities has always been an abundant wealth of material. and if we go so far as to suppose that the poor man might have found other materials perhaps equivalent to these, we know that he could not have turned them to that noble use. the poor critic would be immediately absorbed in the ocean of anonymous periodical literature; he could not find time for the incubation of great works. "modern painters," the result of seventeen years of study, is not simply a work of genius but of genius seconded by wealth. close to it on my shelves stand four volumes which are the monument of another intellectual life devoted to the investigation of nature. de saussure, whom mr. ruskin reverences as one of his ablest teachers, and whom all sincere students of nature regard as a model observer, pursued for many laborious years a kind of life which was not, and could not be, self-supporting in the pecuniary sense. many other patient laborers, who have not the celebrity of these, work steadily in the same way, and are enabled to do so by the possession of independent fortune. i know one such who gives a whole summer to the examination of three or four acres of mountain-ground, the tangible result being comprised in a few memoranda, which, considered as literary material, might (in the hands of a skilled professional writer) just possibly be worth five pounds. not only do narrow pecuniary means often render high intellectual enterprises absolutely impossible, but they do what is frequently even more trying to the health and character, they permit you to undertake work that would be worthy of you if you might only have time and materials for the execution of it, and then spoil it in the doing. an intellectual laborer will bear anything except that. you may take away the very table he is writing upon, if you let him have a deal board for his books and papers; you may take away all his fine editions, if you leave him common copies that are legible; you may remove his very candlestick, if you leave him a bottle-neck to stick his candle in, and he will go on working cheerfully still. but the moment you do anything to spoil the quality of the work itself, you make him irritable and miserable. "you think," says sir arthur helps, "to gain a good man to manage your affairs because he happens to have a small share in your undertaking. it is a great error. you want him to do something well which you are going to tell him to do. if he has been wisely chosen, and is an able man, his pecuniary interest in the matter will be mere dust in the balance, when compared with the desire which belongs to all such men to do their work well." yes, this is the central passion of all men of true ability, _to do their work well_; their happiness lies in that, and not in the amount of their profits, or even in their reputation. but then, on the other hand, they suffer indescribable mental misery when circumstances compel them to do their work less well than they know that, under more favorable circumstances, they would be capable of doing it. the want of money is, in the higher intellectual pursuits, the most common hindrance to thoroughness and excellence of work. de sénancour, who, in consequence of a strange concatenation of misfortunes, was all his life struggling in shallows, suffered not from the privations themselves, but from the vague feeling that they stunted his intellectual growth; and any experienced student of human nature must be aware that de sénancour was right. with larger means he would have seen more of the world, and known it better, and written of it with riper wisdom. he said that the man "who only saw in poverty the direct effect of the money-privation, and only compared, for instance, an eight-penny dinner to one that cost ten shillings, would have no conception of the true nature of misfortune, for not to spend money is the least of the evils of poverty." bossuet said that he "had no attachment to riches, and still if he had only what is barely necessary, if he felt himself narrowed, he would lose more than half his talents." sainte-beuve said, "only think a little what a difference there is in the starting point and in the employment of the faculties between a duc de luynes and a sénancour." how many of the most distinguished authors have been dependent upon private means, not simply for physical sustenance, but for the opportunities which they afforded of gaining that experience of life which was absolutely essential to the full growth of their mental faculties. shelley's writings brought him no profit whatever, and without a private income he could not have produced them, for he had not a hundred buyers. yet his _whole time_ was employed in study or in travel, which for him was study of another kind, or else in the actual labor of composition. wordsworth tried to become a london journalist and failed. a young man called raisley calvert died and left him _l._; this saved the poet in wordsworth, as it kept him till the publication of the "lyrical ballads," and afterwards other pieces of good luck happened to him, so that he could think and compose at leisure. scott would not venture to devote himself to literature until he had first secured a comfortable income outside of it. poor kepler struggled with constant anxieties, and told fortunes by astrology for a livelihood, saying that astrology as the daughter of astronomy ought to keep her mother; but fancy a man of science wasting precious time over horoscopes! "i supplicate you," he writes to moestlin, "if there is a situation vacant at tübingen, do what you can to obtain it for me, and let me know the prices of bread and wine and other necessaries of life, for my wife is not accustomed to live on beans." he had to accept all sorts of jobs; he made almanacs, and served any one who would pay him. his only tranquil time for study was when he lived in styria, on his wife's income, a tranquillity that did not last for long, and never returned. how different is this from the princely ease of tycho brahe, who labored for science alone, with all the help that the ingenuity of his age could furnish! there is the same contrast, in a later generation, between schiller and goethe. poor schiller "wasting so much of his precious life in literary hack-work, translating french books for a miserable pittance;" goethe, fortunate in his pecuniary independence as in all the other great circumstances of his life, and this at a time when the pay of authors was so miserable that they could hardly exist by the pen. schiller got a shilling a page for his translations. merck the publisher offered three pounds sterling for a drama of goethe. "if europe praised me," goethe said, "what has europe done for me? nothing. _even my works have been an expense to me._" the pecuniary rewards which men receive for their labor are so absurdly (yet inevitably) disproportionate to the intellectual power that is needed for the task, and also to the toil involved, that no one can safely rely upon the higher intellectual pursuits as a protection from money-anxieties. i will give you two instances of this disproportion, real instances, of men who are known to me personally. one of them is an eminent englishman of most remarkable intellectual force, who for many years past has occupied his leisure in the composition of works that are valued by the thinking public to a degree which it would be difficult to exaggerate. but this thinking public is not numerous, and so in the year this eminent philosopher, "unable to continue losing money in endeavoring to enlighten his contemporaries, was compelled to announce the termination of his series." on the other hand, a frenchman, also known to me personally, one day conceived the fortunate idea that a new primer might possibly be a saleable commodity. so he composed a little primer, beginning with the alphabet, advancing to a, b, _ab_; b, a, _ba_; and even going so far in history as to affirm that adam was the first man and abraham the father of the faithful. he had the wisdom to keep the copyright of this little publication, which employed (in the easiest of all imaginable literary labor) the evenings of a single week. it has brought him in, ever since, a regular income of _l._ a year, which, so far from showing any signs of diminution, is positively improving. this success encouraged the same intelligent gentleman to compose more literature of the same order, and he is now the enviable owner of several other such copyrights, all of them very valuable; in fact as good properties as house-leases in london. here is an author who, from the pecuniary point of view, was incomparably more successful than milton, or shelley, or goethe. if every intellectual man could shield his higher life by writing primers for children which should be as good as house-leases, if the proverb _qui peut le plus peut le moins_ were a true proverb, which it is not, then of course all men of culture would be perfectly safe, since they all certainly know the contents of a primer. but you may be able to write the most learned philosophical treatise and still not be able to earn your daily bread. consider, too, the lamentable loss of time which people of high culture incur in making experiments on public taste, when money becomes one of their main objects. whilst they are writing stories for children, or elementary educational books which people of far inferior attainment could probably do much better, their own self-improvement comes to a standstill. if it could only be ascertained without delay what sort of work would bring in the money they require, then there would be some chance of apportioning time so as to make reserves for self-improvement; but when they have to write a score of volumes merely to ascertain the humor of the public, there is little chance of leisure. the life of the professional author who has no reputation is much less favorable to high culture than the life of a tradesman in moderately easy circumstances who can reserve an hour or two every day for some beloved intellectual pursuit. sainte-beuve tells us that during certain years of his life he had endeavored, and had been able, so to arrange his existence that it should have both sweetness and dignity, writing from time to time what was agreeable, reading what was both agreeable and serious, cultivating friendships, throwing much of his mind into the intimate relations of every day, giving more to his friends than to the public, reserving what was most tender and delicate for the inner life, enjoying with moderation; such for him was the dream of an intellectual existence in which things truly precious were valued according to their worth. and "_above all_," he said, above all his desire was not to write too much, "_surtout ne pas trop écrire_." and then comes the regret for this wise, well-ordered life enjoyed by him only for a time. "la nécessité depuis m'a saisi et m'a contraint de renoncer à ce que je considérais comme le seul bonheur ou la consolation exquise du mélancolique et du sage." auguste comte lamented in like manner the evil intellectual consequences of anxieties about material needs. "there is nothing," he said, "more mortal to my mind than the necessity, pushed to a certain degree, to have to think each day about a provision for the next. happily i think little and rarely about all that; but whenever this happens to me i pass through moments of discouragement and positive despair, which if the influence of them became habitual _would make me renounce all my labors, all my philosophical projects, to end my days like an ass_." there are a hundred rules for getting rich, but the instinct of accumulation is worth all such rules put together. this instinct is rarely found in combination with high intellectual gifts, and the reason is evident. to advance from a hundred pounds to a thousand is not an intellectual advance, and there is no intellectual interest in the addition of a cipher at the bankers'. simply to accumulate money that you are never to use is, from the intellectual point of view, as stupid an operation as can be imagined. we observe, too, that the great accumulators, the men who are gifted by nature with the true instinct, are not usually such persons as we feel any ambition to become. their faculties are concentrated on one point, and that point, as it seems to us, of infinitely little importance. we cannot see that it signifies much to the intellectual well-being of humanity that john smith should be worth his million when he dies, since we know quite well that john smith's mind will be just as ill-furnished then as it is now. in places where much money is made we easily acquire a positive disgust for it, and the curate seems the most distinguished gentleman in the community, with his old black coat and his seventy pounds a year. we come to hate money-matters when we find that they exclude all thoughtful and disinterested conversation, and we fly to the society of people with fixed incomes, not large enough for much saving, to escape the perpetual talk about investments. our happiest hours have been spent with poor scholars, and artists, and men of science, whose words remain in the memory and make us rich indeed. then we dislike money because it rules and restrains us, and because it is unintelligent and seems hostile, so far as that which is unintelligent can be hostile. and yet the real truth is that money is the strong protector of the intellectual life. the student sits and studies, too often despising the power that shelters him from the wintry night, that gives him roof and walls, and lamp, and books, and fire. for money is simply the accumulated labor of the past, guarding our peace as fleets and armies guard the industry of england, or like some mighty fortress-wall within which men follow the most peaceful avocations. the art is to use money so that it shall be the protector and not the scatterer of our time, the body-guard of the sovereign intellect and will. letter iii. to a student in great poverty. poverty really a great obstacle--difference between a thousand rich men and a thousand poor men taken from persons of average natural gifts--the houses of parliament--the english recognize the natural connection between wealth and culture--connection between ignorance and parsimony in expenditure--what may be honestly said for the encouragement of a very poor student. as it seems to me that to make light of the difficulties which lie in the path of another is not to show true sympathy for him, even though it is done sometimes out of a sort of awkward kindness and for his encouragement, i will not begin by pretending that poverty is not a great obstacle to the perfection of the intellectual life. it _is_ a great obstacle; it is one of the very greatest of all obstacles. only observe how riches and poverty operate upon mankind in the mass. here and there no doubt a very poor man attains intellectual distinction when he has exceptional strength of will, and health enough to bear a great strain of extra labor that he imposes upon himself, and natural gifts so brilliant that he can learn in an hour what common men learn in a day. but consider mankind in the mass. look, for instance, at our two houses of parliament. they are composed of men taken from the average run of englishmen with very little reference to ability, but almost all of them are rich men; not one of them is poor, as you are poor; not one of them has to contend against the stern realities of poverty. then consider the very high general level of intellectual attainment which distinguishes those two assemblies, and ask yourself candidly whether a thousand men taken from the beggars in the streets, or even from the far superior class of our manufacturing operatives, would be likely to understand, as the two houses of parliament understand, the many complicated questions of legislation and of policy which are continually brought before them. we all know that the poor are too limited in knowledge and experience, from the want of the necessary opportunities, and too little accustomed to exercise their minds in the tranquil investigations of great questions, to be competent for the work of parliament. it is scarcely necessary to insist upon this fact to an englishman, because the english have always recognized the natural connection between wealth and culture, and have preferred to be governed by the rich from the belief that they are likely to be better informed, and better situated for intellectual activity of a disinterested kind, than those members of the community whose time and thoughts are almost entirely occupied in winning their daily bread by the incessant labor of their hands. and if you go out into the world, if you mix with men of very different classes, you will find that in a broad average way (i am not speaking just now of the exceptions) the richer classes are much more capable of entering into the sort of thinking which may be called intellectual than those whose money is less plentiful, and whose opportunities have therefore been less abundant. indeed it may be asserted, roughly and generally, that the narrowness of men's ideas is in direct proportion to their parsimony in expenditure. i do not mean to affirm that all who spend largely attain large intellectual results, for of course we know that a man may spend vast sums on pursuits which do not educate him in anything worth knowing, but the advantage is that with habits of free expenditure the germs of thought are well tilled and watered, whereas parsimony denies them every external help. the most spending class in europe is the english gentry, it is also the class most strikingly characterized by a high general average of information;[ ] the most parsimonious class in europe is the french peasantry; it is also the class most strikingly characterized by ignorance and intellectual apathy. the english gentleman has cultivated himself by various reading and extensive travel, but the french peasant will not go anywhere except to the market-town, and could not pardon the extravagance of buying a book, or a candle to read it by in the evening. between these extremes we have various grades of the middle classes in which culture usually increases very much in proportion to the expenditure. the rule is not without its exceptions; there are rich vulgar people who spend a great deal without improving themselves at all--who only, by unlimited self-indulgence, succeed in making themselves so uncomfortably sensitive to every bodily inconvenience that they have no leisure, even in the midst of an unoccupied life, to think of anything but their own bellies and their own skins--people whose power of attention is so feeble that the smallest external incident distracts it, and who remember nothing of their travels but a catalogue of trivial annoyances. but people of this kind do not generally belong to families on whom wealth has had time to produce its best effects. what i mean is, that a family which has been for generations in the habit of spending four thousand a year will usually be found to have a more cultivated one than one that has only spent four hundred. i have come to the recognition of this truth very reluctantly indeed, not because i dislike rich people, but merely because they are necessarily a very small minority, and i should like every human being to have the best benefits of culture if it were only possible. the plain living and high thinking that wordsworth so much valued is a cheering ideal, for most men have to live plainly, and if they could only think with a certain elevation we might hope to solve the great problem of human life, the reconciliation of poverty and the soul. there certainly is a slow movement in that direction, and the shortening of the hours of labor may afford some margin of leisure; but we who work for culture every day and all day long, and still feel that we know very little, and have hardly skill enough to make any effective use of the little that we know, can scarcely indulge in very enthusiastic anticipations of the future culture of the poor. still, there are some things that may be rationally and truly said to a poor man who desires culture, and which are not without a sort of spartan encouragement. you are restricted by your poverty, but it is not always a bad thing to be restricted, even from the intellectual point of view. the intellectual powers of well-to-do people are very commonly made ineffective by the enormous multiplicity of objects that are presented to their attention, and which claim from them a sort of polite notice like the greeting of a great lady to each of her thousand guests. it requires the very rarest strength of mind, in a rich man, to concentrate his attention on anything there are so many things that he is expected to make a pretence of knowing; but nobody expects _you_ to know anything, and this is an incalculable advantage. i think that all poor men who have risen to subsequent distinction have been greatly indebted to this independence of public opinion as to what they ought to know. in trying to satisfy that public opinion by getting up a pretence of various sorts of knowledge, which is only a sham, we sacrifice not only much precious time, but we blunt our natural interest in things. that interest you preserve in all its virgin force, and this force carries a man far. then, again, although the opportunities of rich people are very superior to yours, they are not altogether so superior as they seem. there exists a great equalizing power, the limitation of human energy. a rich man may sit down to an enormous banquet, but he can only make a good use of the little that he is able to digest. so it is with the splendid intellectual banquet that is spread before the rich man's eyes. he can only possess what he has energy to master, and too frequently the manifest impossibility of mastering everything produces a feeling of discouragement that ends in his mastering nothing. a poor student, especially if he lives in an out-of-the-way place where there are no big libraries to bewilder him, may apply his energy with effect in the study of a few authors. i used to believe a great deal more in opportunities and less in application than i do now. time and health are needed, but with these there are always opportunities. rich people have a fancy for spending money very uselessly on their culture because it seems to them more valuable when it has been costly; but the truth is, that by the blessing of good and cheap literature, intellectual light has become almost as accessible as daylight. i have a rich friend who travels more, and buys more costly things, than i do, but he does not really learn more or advance farther in the twelvemonth. if my days are fully occupied, what has he to set against them? only other well-occupied days, no more. if he is getting benefit at st. petersburg he is missing the benefit i am getting round my house, and in it. the sum of the year's benefit seems to be surprisingly alike in both cases. so if you are reading a piece of thoroughly good literature, baron rothschild may possibly be as well occupied as you--he is certainly not better occupied. when i open a noble volume i say to myself, "now the only croesus that i envy is he who is reading a better book than this." footnotes: [ ] this sounds like a poetical exaggeration, but it is less than the bare truth. there were fifteen hundred slaves on two west indian estates that beckford lost in a lawsuit. it is quite certain, considering his lavish expenditure, that fully a thousand men must have worked for the maintenance of his luxury in europe. so much for his command of labor. [ ] the reader will please to bear in mind that i am speaking here of broad effects on great numbers. i do not think that aristocracy, in its spirit, is quite favorable to the exceptionally highest intellectual life. part vi. custom and tradition. letter i. to a young gentleman who had firmly resolved never to wear anything but a gray coat.[ ] secret enjoyment of rebellion against custom, and of the disabilities resulting from it--penalties imposed by society and by nature out of proportion to the offence--instances--what we consider penalties not really penalties, but only consequences--society likes harmony, and is offended by dissonance--utility of rebels against custom--that they ought to reserve their power of rebellion for great occasions--uses of custom--duty of the intellectual class--best way to procure the abolition of a custom we disapprove--bad customs--eccentricity sometimes a duty. when i had the pleasure of staying at your father's house, you told me, rather to my surprise, that it was impossible for you to go to balls and dinner-parties because you did not possess such a thing as a dress-coat. the reason struck me as being scarcely a valid one, considering the rather high scale of expenditure adopted in the paternal mansion. it seemed clear that the eldest son of a family which lived after the liberal fashion of yorkshire country gentlemen could afford himself a dress-coat if he liked. then i wondered whether you disliked dress-coats from a belief that they were unbecoming to your person; but a very little observation of your character convinced me that, whatever might be your weaknesses (for everybody has some weaknesses), anxiety about personal appearance was not one of them. the truth is, that you secretly enjoy this little piece of disobedience to custom, and all the disabilities which result from it. this little rebellion is connected with a larger rebellion, and it is agreeable to you to demonstrate the unreasonableness of society by incurring a very severe penalty for a very trifling offence. you are always dressed decently, you offend against no moral rule, you have cultivated your mind by study and reflection, and it rather pleases you to think that a young gentleman so well qualified for society in everything of real importance should be excluded from it because he has not purchased a permission from his tailor. the penalties imposed by society for the infraction of very trifling details of custom are often, as it seems, out of all proportion to the offence; but so are the penalties of nature. only three days before the date of this letter, an intimate friend of mine was coming home from a day's shooting. his nephew, a fine young man in the full enjoyment of existence, was walking ten paces in advance. a covey of partridges suddenly cross the road: my friend in shouldering his gun touches the trigger just a second too soon, and kills his nephew. now, think of the long years of mental misery that will be the punishment of that very trifling piece of carelessness! my poor friend has passed, in the space of a single instant, from a joyous life to a life that is permanently and irremediably saddened. it is as if he had left the summer sunshine to enter a gloomy dungeon and begin a perpetual imprisonment. and for what? for having touched a trigger, without evil intention, a little too precipitately. it seems harder still for the victim, who is sent out of the world in the bloom of perfect manhood because his uncle was not quite so cool as he ought to have been. again, not far from where i live, thirty-five men were killed last week in a coal-pit from an explosion of fire-damp. one of their number had struck a lucifer to light his pipe: for doing this in a place where he ought not to have done it, the man suffers the penalty of death, and thirty-four others with him. the fact is simply that nature _will_ be obeyed, and makes no attempt to proportion punishments to offences: indeed, what in our human way we call punishments are not punishments, but simple consequences. so it is with the great social penalties. society _will be obeyed_: if you refuse obedience, you must take the consequences. society has only one law, and that is custom. even religion itself is socially powerful only just so far as it has custom on its side. nature does not desire that thirty-five men should be destroyed because one could not resist the temptation of a pipe; but fire-damp is highly inflammable, and the explosion is a simple consequence. society does not desire to exclude you because you will not wear evening dress; but the dress is customary, and your exclusion is merely a consequence of your nonconformity. the view of society goes no farther in this than the artistic conception (not very delicately artistic, perhaps) that it is prettier to see men in black coats regularly placed between ladies round a dinner-table than men in gray coats or brown coats. the uniformity of costume appears to represent uniformity of sentiment and to ensure a sort of harmony amongst the _convives_. what society really cares for is harmony; what it dislikes is dissent and nonconformity. it wants peace in the dining-room, peace in the drawing-room, peace everywhere in its realm of tranquil pleasure. you come in your shooting-coat, which was in tune upon the moors, but is a dissonance amongst ladies in full dress. do you not perceive that fustian and velveteen, which were natural amongst gamekeepers, are not so natural on gilded chairs covered with silk, with lace and diamonds at a distance of three feet? you don't perceive it? very well: society does not argue the point with you, but only excludes you. it has been said that in the life of every intellectual man there comes a time when he questions custom at all points. this seems to be a provision of nature for the reform and progress of custom itself, which without such questioning would remain absolutely stationary and irresistibly despotic. you rebels against the established custom have your place in the great work of progressive civilization. without you, western europe would have been a second china. it is to the continual rebellion of such persons as yourself that we owe whatever progress has been accomplished since the times of our remotest forefathers. there have been rebels always, and the rebels have not been, generally speaking, the most stupid part of the nation. but what is the use of wasting this beneficial power of rebellion on matters too trivial to be worth attention? does it hurt your conscience to appear in a dress-coat? certainly not, and you would be as good-looking in it as you are in your velveteen shooting-jacket with the pointers on the bronze buttons. let us conform in these trivial matters, which nobody except a tailor ought to consider worth a moment's attention, in order to reserve our strength for the protection of intellectual liberty. let society arrange your dress for you (it will save you infinite trouble), but never permit it to stifle the expression of your thought. you find it convenient, because you are timid, to exclude yourself from the world by refusing to wear its costume; but a bolder man would let the tailor do his worst, and then go into the world and courageously defend there the persons and causes that are misunderstood and slanderously misrepresented. the fables of spenser are fables only in form, and a noble knight may at any time go forth, armed in the panoply of a tail-coat, a dress waistcoat, and a manly moral courage, to do battle across the dinner-table and in the drawing-room for those who have none to defend them. it is unphilosophical to set ourselves obstinately against custom in the mass, for it multiplies the power of men by settling useless discussion and clearing the ground for our best and most prolific activity. the business of the world could not be carried forward one day without a most complex code of customs; and law itself is little more than custom slightly improved upon by men reflecting together at their leisure, and reduced to codes and systems. we ought to think of custom as a most precious legacy of the past, saving us infinite perplexity, yet not as an infallible rule. the most intelligent community would be conservative in its habits, yet not obstinately conservative, but willing to hear and adopt the suggestions of advancing reason. the great duty of the intellectual class, and its especial function, is to confirm what is reasonable in the customs that have been handed down to us, and so maintain their authority, yet at the same time to show that custom is not final, but merely a form suited to the world's convenience. and whenever you are convinced that a custom is no longer serviceable, the way to procure the abolition of it is to lead men very gradually away from it, by offering a substitute at first very slightly different from what they have been long used to. if the english had been in the habit of tattooing, the best way to procure its abolition would have been to admit that it was quite necessary to cover the face with elaborate patterns, yet gently to suggest that these patterns would be still more elegant if delicately painted in water-colors. then you might have gone on arguing--still admitting, of course, the absolute necessity for ornament of some kind--that good taste demanded only a moderate amount of it; and so you would have brought people gradually to a little flourish on the nose or forehead, when the most advanced reformers might have set the example of dispensing with ornament altogether. many of our contemporaries have abandoned shaving in this gradual way, allowing the whiskers to encroach imperceptibly, till at last the razor lay in the dressing-case unused. the abominable black cylinders that covered our heads a few years ago were vainly resisted by radicals in custom, but the moderate reformers gradually reduced their elevation, and now they are things of the past. though i think we ought to submit to custom in matters of indifference, and to reform it gradually, whilst affecting submission in matters altogether indifferent, still there are other matters on which the only attitude worthy of a man is the most bold and open resistance to its dictates. custom may have a right to authority over your wardrobe, but it cannot have any right to ruin your self-respect. not only the virtues most advantageous to well-being, but also the most contemptible and degrading vices, have at various periods of the world's history been sustained by the full authority of custom. there are places where forty years ago drunkenness was conformity to custom, and sobriety an eccentricity. there are societies, even at the present day, where licentiousness is the rule of custom, and chastity the sign of weakness or want of spirit. there are communities (it cannot be necessary to name them) in which successful fraud, especially on a large scale, is respected as the proof of smartness, whilst a man who remains poor because he is honest is despised for slowness and incapacity. there are whole nations in which religious hypocrisy is strongly approved by custom, and honesty severely condemned. the wahabee arabs may be mentioned as an instance of this, but the wahabee arabs are not the only people, nor is nejed the only place, where it is held to be more virtuous to lie on the side of custom than to be an honorable man in independence of it. in all communities where vice and hypocrisy are sustained by the authority of custom, eccentricity is a moral duty. in all communities where a low standard of thinking is received as infallible common sense, eccentricity becomes an intellectual duty. there are hundreds of places in the provinces where it is impossible for any man to lead the intellectual life without being condemned as an eccentric. it is the duty of intellectual men who are thus isolated to set the example of that which their neighbors call eccentricity, but which may be more accurately described as superiority. letter ii. to a conservative who had accused the author of a want of respect for tradition. transition from the ages of tradition to that of experiment--attraction of the future--joubert--saint-marc girardin--solved and unsolved problems--the introduction of a new element--inapplicability of past experience--an argument against republics--the lessons of history--mistaken predictions that have been based on them--morality and ecclesiastical authority--compatibility of hopes for the future with gratitude to the past--that we are more respectful to the past than previous ages have been--our feelings towards tradition--an incident at warsaw--the reconstruction of the navy. the astonishing revolution in thought and practice which is taking place amongst the intelligent japanese, the throwing away of a traditional system of living in order to establish in its stead a system which, for an asiatic people, is nothing more than a vast experiment, has its counterpart in many an individual life in europe. we are like travellers crossing an isthmus between two seas, who have left one ship behind them, who have not yet seen the vessel that waits on the distant shore, and who experience to the full all the discomforts and inconveniences of the passage from one sea to the other. there is a break between the existence of our forefathers and that of our posterity, and it is we who have the misfortune to be situated exactly where the break occurs. we are leaving behind us the security, i do not say the safety, but the feeling of tranquillity which belonged to the ages of tradition; we are entering upon ages whose spirit we foresee but dimly, whose institutions are the subject of guesses and conjectures. and yet this future, of which we know so little, attracts us more by the very vastness of its enigma than the rich history of the past, so full of various incident, of powerful personages, of grandeur, and suffering, and sorrow. joubert already noticed this forward-looking of the modern mind. "the ancients," he observed, "said, 'our ancestors;' we say, 'posterity.' we do not love as they did _la patrie_, the country and laws of our forefathers; we love rather the laws and the country of our children. it is the magic of the future, and not that of the past, which seduces us." commenting on this thought of joubert's, saint-marc girardin said that we loved the future because we loved ourselves, and fashioned the future in our own image; and he added, with partial but not complete injustice, that our ignorance of the past was a cause of this tendency in our minds, since it is shorter to despise the past than to study it. these critics and accusers of the modern spirit are not, however, altogether fair to it. if the modern spirit looks so much to the future, it is because the problems of the past are solved problems, whilst those of the future have the interest of a game that is only just begun. we know what became of feudalism, we know the work that it accomplished and the services that it rendered, but we do not yet know what will be the effects of modern democracy and of the scientific and industrial spirit. it is the novelty of this element, the scientific spirit and the industrial development which is a part (but only a part) of its results, that makes the past so much less reliable as a guide than it would have been if no new element had intervened, and therefore so much less interesting for us. as an example of the inapplicability of past experience, i may mention an argument against republics which has been much used of late by the partisans of monarchy in france. they have frequently told us that republics had only succeeded in very small states, and this is true of ancient democracies; but it is not less true that railways, and telegraphs, and the newspaper press have made great countries like france and the united states just as capable of feeling and acting simultaneously as the smallest republics of antiquity. the parties which rely on what are called the lessons of history are continually exposed to great deceptions. in france, what may be called the historical party would not believe in the possibility of a united germany, because fifty years ago, with the imperfect means of communication which then existed, germany was not and could not be united. the same historical party refused to believe that the italian kingdom could ever hold together. in england, the historical party predicted the dismemberment of the united states, and in some other countries it has been a favorite article of faith that england could not keep her possessions. but theories of this kind are always of very doubtful applicability to the present, and their applicability to the future is even more doubtful still. steam and electricity have made great modern states practically like so many great cities, so that manchester is like a suburb of london, and havre the piræus of paris, whilst the most trifling occasions bring the sovereign of italy to any of the italian capitals. in the intellectual sphere the experience of the past is at least equally unreliable. if the power of the catholic church had been suddenly removed from the europe of the fourteenth century, the consequence would have been a moral anarchy difficult to conceive; but in our own day the real regulator of morality is not the church, but public opinion, in the formation of which the church has a share, but only a share. it would therefore be unsafe to conclude that the weakening of ecclesiastical authority must of necessity, in the future, be followed by moral anarchy, since it is possible, and even probable, that the other great influences upon public opinion may gain strength as this declines. and in point of fact we have already lived long enough to witness a remarkable decline of ecclesiastical authority, which is proved by the avowed independence of scientific writers and thinkers, and by the open opposition of almost all the european governments. the secular power resists the ecclesiastical in germany and spain. in france it establishes a form of government which the church detests. in ireland it disestablishes and disendows a hierarchy. in switzerland it resists the whole power of the papacy. in italy it seizes the sacred territory and plants itself within the very walls of rome. and yet the time which has witnessed this unprecedented self-assertion of the laity has witnessed a positive increase in the morality of public sentiment, especially in the love of justice and the willingness to hear truth, even when truth is not altogether agreeable to the listener, and in the respect paid by opponents to able and sincere men, merely for their ability and sincerity. this love of justice, this patient and tolerant hearing of new truth, in which our age immeasurably exceeds all the ages that have preceded it, are the direct results of the scientific spirit, and are not only in themselves eminently moral, but conducive to moral health generally. and this advancement may be observed in countries which were least supposed to be capable of it. even the french, of whose immorality we have heard so much, have a public opinion which is gradually gaining a salutary strength, an increasing dislike for barbarity and injustice, and a more earnest desire that no citizen, except by his own fault, should be excluded from the benefits of civilization. the throne which has lately fallen was undermined by the currents of this public opinion before it sank in military disaster. "aussi me contenterai-je," says littré, "d'appeler l'attention sur la guerre, dont l'opinion publique ne tolère plus les antiques barbaries; sur la magistrature, qui répudie avec horreur les tortures et la question; sur la tolérance, qui a banni les persécutions religieuses; sur l'équite, qui soumet tout le monde aux charges communes; sur le sentiment de solidarité qui du sort des classes pauvres fait le plus pressant et le plus noble problème du temps présent. pour moi, je ne sais caractériser ce spectacle si hautement moral qu'en disant que l'humanité, améliorée, accepte de plus en plus le devoir et la tâche d'étendre le domaine de la justice et de la bonté." yet this partial and comparative satisfaction that we find in the present, and our larger hopes for the future, are quite compatible with gratitude to all who in the past have rendered such improvement possible for us, and the higher improvement that we hope for possible to those who will come after us. i cannot think that the present age may be accused with justice of exceptional ignorance or scorn of its predecessors. we have been told that we scorn our forefathers because old buildings are removed to suit modern conveniences, because the walls of old york have been pierced for the railway, and a tower of conway castle has been undermined that the holyhead mail may pass. but the truth is, that whilst we care a little for our predecessors, they cared still less for theirs. the mediæval builders not only used as quarries any roman remains that happened to come in their way, but they spoiled the work of their own fathers and grandfathers by intruding their new fashions on buildings originally designed in a different style of art. when an architect in the present day has to restore some venerable church, he endeavors to do so in harmony with the design of the first builder; but such humility as this was utterly foreign to the mediæval mind, which often destroyed the most lovely and necessary details to replace them with erections in the fashion of the day, but artistically unsuitable. the same disdain for the labors of other ages has prevailed until within the memory of living men, and our age is really the first that has made any attempt to conform itself, in these things, to the intentions of the dead. i may also observe, that although history is less relied upon as a guide to the future than it was formerly, it is more carefully and thoroughly investigated from an intellectual interest in itself. to conclude. it seems to me that tradition has much less influence of an authoritative kind than it had formerly, and that the authority which it still possesses is everywhere steadily declining; that as a guide to the future of the world it is more likely to mislead than to enlighten us, and still that all intellectual and educated people must always take a great interest in tradition, and have a certain sentiment of respect for it. consider what our feelings are towards the church of rome, the living embodiment of tradition. no well-informed person can forget the immense services that in former ages she has rendered to european civilization, and yet at the same time such a person would scarcely wish to place modern thought under her direction, nor would he consult the pope about the tendencies of the modern world. when in the city of warsaw erected a monument to copernicus, a scientific society there waited in the church of the holy cross for a service that was to have added solemnity to their commemoration. they waited vainly. not a single priest appeared. the clergy did not feel authorized to countenance a scientific discovery which, in a former age, had been condemned by the authority of the church. this incident is delicately and accurately typical of the relation between the modern and the traditional spirit. the modern spirit is not hostile to tradition, and would not object to receive any consecration which tradition might be able to confer, but there are difficulties in bringing the two elements together. we need not, however, go so far as warsaw, or back to the year , for examples of an unwillingness on the part of the modern mind to break entirely with the traditional spirit. our own country is remarkable both for the steadiness of its advance towards a future widely different from the past, and for an affectionate respect for the ideas and institutions that it gradually abandons, as it is forced out of them by new conditions of existence, i may mention, as one example out of very many, our feeling about the reconstruction of the navy. here is a matter in which science has compelled us to break with tradition absolutely and irrevocably; we have done so, but we have done so with the greatest regret. the ships of the line that our hearts and imaginations love are the ships of nelson and collingwood and cochrane. we think of the british fleets that bore down upon the enemy with the breeze in their white sails; we think of the fine qualities of seamanship that were fostered in our _agamemnons_, and _victories_, and _téméraires_. will the navies of the future ever so clothe their dreadful powers with beauty, as did the ordered columns of nelson, when they came with a fair wind and all sails set, at eleven o'clock in the morning into trafalgar bay? we see the smoke of their broadsides rising up to their sails like mists to the snowy alps, and high above, against heaven's blue, the unconquered flag of england! nor do we perceive now for the first time that there was poetry in those fleets of old; our forefathers felt it then, and expressed it in a thousand songs.[ ] letter iii. to a lady who lamented that her son had intellectual doubts concerning the dogmas of the church. the situation of mother and son a very common one--painful only when the parties are in earnest--the knowledge of the difference evidence of a deeper unity--value of honesty--evil of a splendid official religion not believed by men of culture--diversity of belief an evidence of religious vitality--criticism not to be ignored--desire for the highest attainable truth--letter from lady westmorland about her son, julian fane. the difference which you describe as having arisen between your son and you on the most grave and important subject which can occupy the thoughts of men, gives the outline of a situation painful to both the parties concerned, and which lays on each of them new and delicate obligations. you do not know how common this situation is, and how sadly it interferes with the happiness of the very best and most pure-minded souls alive. for such a situation produces pain only where both parties are earnest and sincere; and the more earnest both are, the more painful does the situation become. if you and your son thought of religion merely from the conventional point of view, as the world does only too easily, you would meet on a common ground, and might pass through life without ever becoming aware of any gulf of separation, even though the hollowness of your several professions were of widely different kinds. but as it happens, unfortunately for your peace (yet would you have it otherwise?), that you are both in earnest, both anxious to believe what is true and do what you believe to be right, you are likely to cause each other much suffering of a kind altogether unknown to less honorable and devoted natures. there are certain forms of suffering which affect only the tenderest and truest hearts; they have so many privileges, that this pain has been imposed upon them as the shadow of their sunshine. let me suggest, as some ground of consolation and of hope, that your very knowledge of the difference which pains you is in itself the evidence of a deeper unity. if your son has told you the full truth about the changes in his belief, it is probably because you yourself have educated him in the habit of truthfulness, which is as much a law of religion as it is of honor. do you wish this part of his education to be enfeebled or obliterated? could the church herself reasonably or consistently blame him for practising the one virtue which, in a peaceful and luxurious society, demands a certain exercise of courage? our beliefs are independent of our will, but our honesty is not; and he who keeps his honesty keeps one of the most precious possessions of all true christians and gentlemen. what state of society can be more repugnant to high religious feeling than a state of smooth external unanimity combined with the indifference of the heart, a state in which some splendid official religion performs its daily ceremonies as the costliest functionary of the government, whilst the men of culture take a share in them out of conformity to the customs of society, without either the assent of the intellect or the emotion of the soul? all periods of great religious vitality have been marked by great and open diversity of belief; and to this day those countries where religion is most alive are the farthest removed from unanimity in the details of religious doctrine. if your son thinks these things of such importance to his conscience that he feels compelled to inflict upon you the slightest pain on their account, you may rest assured that his religious fibre is still full of vitality. if it were deadened, he would argue very much as follows. he would say: "these old doctrines of the church are not of sufficient consequence for me to disturb my mother about them. what is the use of alluding to them ever?" and then you would have no anxiety; and he himself would have the feeling of settled peace which comes over a battle-field when the dead are buried out of sight. it is the peculiarity--some would say the evil, but i cannot think it an evil--of an age of great intellectual activity to produce an amount of critical inquiry into religious doctrine which is entirely unknown to times of simple tradition. and in these days the critical tendency has received a novel stimulus from the successive suggestions of scientific discovery. no one who, like your son, fully shares in the intellectual life of the times in which he lives, can live as if this criticism did not exist. if he affected to ignore it, as an objection already answered, there would be disingenuousness in the affectation. fifty years ago, even twenty or thirty years ago, a highly intellectual young man might have hardened into the fixed convictions of middle age without any external disturbance, except such as might have been easily avoided. the criticism existed then, in certain circles; but it was not in the air, as it is now. the life of mankind resembles that of a brook which has its times of tranquillity, but farther on its times of trouble and unrest. our immediate forefathers had the peaceful time for their lot; those who went before them had passed over very rough ground at the reformation. for us, in our turn, comes the recurrent restlessness, though not in the same place. what we are going to, who can tell? what we suffer just now, you and many others know too accurately. there are gulfs of separation in homes of the most perfect love. our only hope of preserving what is best in that purest of earthly felicities lies in the practice of an immense charity, a wide tolerance, a sincere respect for opinions that are not ours, and a deep trust that the loyal pursuit of truth cannot but be in perfect accordance with the intentions of the creator, who endowed the noblest races of mankind with the indefatigable curiosity of science. not to inquire was possible for our forefathers, but it is not possible for us. with our intellectual growth has come an irrepressible anxiety to possess the highest truth attainable by us. this desire is not sinful, not presumptuous, but really one of the best and purest of our instincts, being nothing else than the sterling honesty of the intellect, seeking the harmony of concordant truth, and utterly disinterested. i may quote, as an illustration of the tendencies prevalent amongst the noblest and most cultivated young men, a letter from lady westmorland to mr. robert lytton about her accomplished son, the now celebrated julian fane. "we had," she said, "several conversations, during his last illness, upon religious subjects, about which he had his own peculiar views. the disputes and animosities between high and low church, and all the feuds of religious sectarianism, caused him the deepest disgust. i think, indeed, that he carried this feeling too far. he had a horror of _cant_, which i also think was exaggerated; for it gave him a repulsion for all outward show of religious observances. he often told me that he never missed the practice of prayer, at morning and evening, and at other times. but his prayers were his own: his own thoughts in his own words. he said that he could not pray in the set words of another; nor unless he was _alone_. as to joining in family prayers, or praying at church, he found it impossible. he constantly read the new testament. he deprecated the indiscriminate reading of the bible. he firmly believed in the efficacy of sincere prayer; and was always pleased when i told him i had prayed for him." to this it may be added, that many recent conversions to the church of rome, though apparently of an exactly opposite character, have in reality also been brought about by the scientific inquiries of the age. the religious sentiment, alarmed at the prospect of a possible taking away of that which it feeds upon, has sought in many instances to preserve it permanently under the guardianship of the strongest ecclesiastical authority. in an age of less intellectual disturbance this anxiety would scarcely have been felt; and the degree of authority claimed by one of the reformed churches would have been accepted as sufficient. here again the agitations of the modern intellect have caused division in families; and as you are lamenting the heterodoxy of your son, so other parents regret the roman orthodoxy of theirs. letter iv. to the son of the lady to whom the preceding letter was addressed. difficulty of detaching intellectual from religious questions--the sacerdotal system--necessary to ascertain what religion is--intellectual religion really nothing but philosophy--the popular instinct--the test of belief--public worship--the intellect moral, but not religious--intellectual activity sometimes in contradiction to dogma--differences between the intellectual and religious lives. your request is not so simple as it appears. you ask me for a frank opinion as to the course your mind is taking in reference to very important subjects; but you desire only intellectual, and not religious guidance. the difficulty is to effect any clear demarcation between the two. certainly i should never take upon myself to offer religious advice to any one; it is difficult for those who have not qualified themselves for the priestly office to do that with force and effect. the manner in which a priest leads and manages a mind that has from the first been moulded in the beliefs and observances of his church, cannot be imitated by a layman. a priest starts always from authority; his method, which has been in use from the earliest ages, consists first in claiming your unquestioning assent to certain doctrines, from which he immediately proceeds to deduce the inferences that may affect your conduct or regulate your thoughts. it is a method perfectly adapted to its own ends. it can deal with all humanity, and produce the most immediate practical results. so long as the assent to the doctrines is sincere, the sacerdotal system may contend successfully against some of the strongest forms of evil; but when the assent to the doctrines has ceased to be complete, when some of them are half-believed and others not believed at all, the system loses much of its primitive efficiency. it seems likely that your difficulty, the difficulty of so many intellectual men in these days, is to know where the intellectual questions end and the purely religious ones can be considered to begin. if you could once ascertain that, in a manner definitely satisfactory, you would take your religious questions to a clergyman and your intellectual ones to a man of science, and so get each solved independently. without presuming to offer a solution of so complex a difficulty as this, i may suggest to you that it is of some importance to your intellectual life to ascertain what religion is. a book was published many years ago by a very learned author, in which he endeavored to show that what is vulgarly called scepticism may be intellectual religion. now, although nothing can be more distasteful to persons of culture than the bigotry which refuses the name of religion to other people's opinions, merely because they are other people's opinions, i suspect that the popular instinct is right in denying the name of religion to the inferences of the intellect. the description which the author just alluded to gave of what he called intellectual religion was in fact simply a description of philosophy, and of that discipline which the best philosophy imposes upon the heart and the passions. on the other hand, dr. arnold, when he says that by religion he always understands christianity, narrows the word as much as he would have narrowed the word "patriotism" had he defined it to mean a devotion to the interests of england. i think the popular instinct, though of course quite unable to construct a definition of religion, is in its vague way very well aware of the peculiar nature of religious thought and feeling. the popular instinct would certainly never confound religion with philosophy on the one hand, nor, on the other, unless excited to opposition, would it be likely to refuse the name of religion to another worship, such as mahometanism, for instance. according to the popular instinct, then, which on a subject of this kind appears the safest of all guides, a religion involves first a belief and next a public practice. the nature of the belief is in these days wholly peculiar to religion; in other times it was not so, because then people believed other things much in the same way. but in these days the test of religious belief is that it should make men accept as certain truth what they would disbelieve on any other authority. for example, a true roman catholic believes that the consecrated host is the body of christ, and so long as he lives in the purely religious spirit he continues to believe this; but so soon as the power of his religious sentiment declines he ceases to believe it, and the wafer appears to him a wafer, and no more. and so amongst protestants the truly religious believe many things which no person not being under the authority of religion could by any effort bring himself to believe. it is easy, for example, to believe that joshua arrested the sun's apparent motion, so long as the religious authority of the bible remains perfectly intact; but no sooner does the reader become critical than the miracle is disbelieved. in all ages, and in all countries, religions have narrated marvellous things, and the people have always affirmed that not to believe these narratives constituted the absence of religion, or what they called atheism. they have equally, in all ages and countries, held the public act of participation in religious worship to be an essential part of what they called religion. they do not admit the sufficiency of secret prayer. can these popular instincts help us to a definition? they may help us at least to mark the dividing line between religion and morality, between religion and philosophy. no one has ever desired, more earnestly and eagerly than i, to discover the foundations of the intellectual religion; no one has ever felt more chilling disappointment in the perception of the plain bare fact that the intellect gives morality, philosophy, precious things indeed, but not religion. it is like seeking art by science. thousands of artists, whole schools from generation to generation, have sought fine art through anatomy and perspective; and although these sciences did not hinder the born artists from coming to art at last, they did not ensure their safe arrival in the art-paradise; in many instances they even led men away from art. so it is with the great modern search for the intellectual religion; the idea of it is scientific in its source, and the result of it, the last definite attainment, is simply intellectual morality, not religion in the sense which all humanity has attached to religion during all the ages that have preceded ours. we may say that philosophy is the religion of the intellectual; and if we go scrupulously to latin derivations, it is so. but taking frankly the received meaning of the word as it is used by mankind everywhere, we must admit that, although high intellect would lead us inevitably to high and pure morality, and to most scrupulously beautiful conduct in everything, towards men, towards women, towards even the lower and lowest animals, still it does not lead us to that belief in the otherwise unbelievable, or to that detailed _cultus_ which is meant by religion in the universally accepted sense. it is disingenuous to take a word popularly respected and attribute to it another sense. such a course is not strictly honest, and therefore not purely intellectual; for the foundation of the intellectual life is honesty. the difficulty of the intellectual life is, that whilst it can never assume a position of hostility to religion, which it must always recognize as the greatest natural force for the amelioration of mankind, it is nevertheless compelled to enunciate truths which may happen to be in contradiction with dogmas received at this or that particular time. that you may not suspect me of a disposition to dwell continually on safe generalities and to avoid details out of timidity, let me mention two cases on which the intellectual and scientific find themselves at variance with the clergy. the clergy tell us that mankind descend from a single pair, and that in the earlier ages the human race attained a longevity counted not by decades but by centuries. alexander humboldt disbelieves the first of these propositions, professor owen disbelieves the second. men of science generally are of the same opinion. few men of science accept adam and eve, few accept methuselah. professor owen argues that, since the oldest skeletons known have the same system of teething that we have, man can never have lived long enough to require nine sets of teeth. in regard to these, and a hundred other points on which science advances new views, the question which concerns us is how we are to maintain the integrity of the intellectual life. the danger is the loss of inward ingenuousness, the attempt to persuade ourselves that we believe opposite statements. if once we admit disingenuousness into the mind, the intellectual life is no longer serene and pure. the plain course for the preservation of our honesty, which is the basis of truly intellectual thinking, is to receive the truth, whether agreeable or the contrary, with all its train of consequences, however repulsive or discouraging. in attempting to reconcile scientific truth with the oldest traditions of humanity, there is but one serious danger, the loss of intellectual integrity. of that possession modern society has little left to lose. but let us understand that the intellectual life and the religious life are as distinct as the scientific and the artistic lives. they may be led by the same person, but by the same person in different moods. they coincide on some points, accidentally. certainly, the basis of high thinking is perfect honesty, and honesty is a recognized religious virtue. where the two minds differ is on the importance of authority. the religious life is based upon authority, the intellectual life is based upon personal investigation. from the intellectual point of view i cannot advise you to restrain the spirit of investigation, which is the scientific spirit. it may lead you very far, yet always to truth, ultimately,--you, or those after you, whose path you may be destined to prepare. science requires a certain inward heat and heroism in her votaries, notwithstanding the apparent coldness of her statements. especially does she require that intellectual fearlessness which accepts a proved fact without reference to its personal or its social consequences. letter v. to a friend who seemed to take credit to himself, intellectually, from the nature of his religious belief. anecdote of a swiss gentleman--religious belief protects traditions, but does not weaken the critical faculty itself--illustration from the art of etching--sydney smith--dr. arnold--earnest religious belief of ampère--comte and sainte-beuve--faraday--belief or unbelief proves nothing for or against intellectual capacity. i happened once to be travelling in switzerland with an eminent citizen of that country, and i remember how in speaking of some place we passed through he associated together the ideas of protestantism and intellectual superiority in some such phrase as this: "the people here are very superior; they are protestants." there seemed to exist, in my companion's mind, an assumption that protestants would be superior people intellectually, or that superior people would be protestants; and this set me thinking whether, in the course of such experience as had fallen in my way, i had found that religious creed had made much difference in the matter of intellectual acumen or culture. the exact truth appears to be this. a religious belief protects this or that subject against intellectual action, but it does not affect the energy of the intellectual action upon subjects which are not so protected. let me illustrate this by a reference to one of the fine arts, the art of etching. the etcher protects a copper-plate by means of a waxy covering called etching-ground, and wherever this ground is removed the acid bites the copper. the waxy ground does not in the least affect the strength of the acid, it only intervenes between it and the metal plate. so it is in the mind of man with regard to his intellectual acumen and his religious creed. the creed may protect a tradition from the operation of the critical faculty, but it does not weaken the critical faculty itself. in the english church, for example, the bible is protected against criticism; but this does not weaken the critical faculty of english clergymen with reference to other literature, and many of them give evidence of a strong critical faculty in all matters not protected by their creed. think of the vigorous common sense of sydney smith, exposing so many abuses at a time when it needed not only much courage but great originality to expose them! remember the intellectual force of arnold, a great natural force if ever there was one--so direct in action, so independent of contemporary opinion! intellectual forces of this kind act freely not only in the church of england, but in other churches, even in the church of rome. who amongst the scientific men of this century has been more profoundly scientific, more capable of original scientific discovery than ampère? yet ampère was a roman catholic, and not a roman catholic in the conventional sense merely, like the majority of educated frenchmen, but a hearty and enthusiastic believer in the doctrines of the church of rome. the belief in transubstantiation did not prevent ampère from becoming one of the best chemists of his time, just as the belief in the plenary inspiration of the new testament does not prevent a good protestant from becoming an acute critic of greek literature generally. a man may have the finest scientific faculty, the most advanced scientific culture, and still believe the consecrated wafer to the body of jesus christ. for since he still believes it to be the body of christ under the apparent form of a wafer, it is evident that the wafer under chemical analysis would resolve itself into the same elements as before consecration; therefore why consult chemistry? what has chemistry to say to a mystery of this kind, the essence of which is the _complete_ disguise of a human body under a form in _all_ respects answering the material semblance of a wafer? ampère must have foreseen the certain results of analysis as clearly as the best chemist educated in the principles of protestantism, but this did not prevent him from adoring the consecrated host in all the sincerity of his heart. i say that it does not follow, because m. or n. happens to be a protestant, that he is intellectually superior to ampère, or because m. or n. happens to be a unitarian, or a deist, or a positivist, that he is intellectually superior to dr. arnold or sydney smith. and on the other side of this question it is equally unfair to conclude that because a man does not share whatever may be our theological beliefs on the positive side, he must be less capable intellectually than we are. two of the finest and most disciplined modern intellects, comte and sainte-beuve, were neither catholics, nor protestants, nor deists, but convinced atheists; yet comte until the period of his decline, and sainte-beuve up to the very hour of his death, were quite in the highest rank of modern scientific and literary intellect. the inference from these facts which concerns every one of us is, that we are not to build up any edifice of intellectual self-satisfaction on the ground that in theological matters we believe or disbelieve this thing or that. if ampère believed the doctrines of the church of rome, which to us seem so incredible, if faraday remained throughout his brilliant intellectual career (certainly one of the most brilliant ever lived through by a human being) a sincere member of the obscure sect of the sandemanians, we are not warranted in the conclusion that we are intellectually their betters because our theology is more novel, or more fashionable, or more in harmony with reason. nor, on the other hand, does our orthodoxy prove anything in favor of our mental force and culture. who, amongst the most orthodox writers, has a more forcible and cultivated intellect than sainte-beuve?--who can better give us the tone of perfect culture, with its love of justice, its thoroughness in preparation, its superiority to all crudeness and violence? anglican or romanist, dissenter or heretic, may be our master in the intellectual sphere, from which no sincere and capable laborer is excluded, either by his belief or by his unbelief. letter vi. to a roman catholic friend who accused the intellectual class of a want of reverence for authority. necessity for treating affirmations as if they were doubtful--the papal infallibility--the infallibility of the sacred scriptures--opposition of method between intellect and faith--the perfection of the intellectual life requires intellectual methods--inevitable action of the intellectual forces. it is very much the custom, in modern writing about liberty of thought, to pass lightly over the central difficulty, which sooner or later will have to be considered. the difficulty is this, that the freedom of the intellectual life can never be secured except by treating as if they were doubtful several affirmations which large masses of mankind hold to be certainties as indisputable as the facts of science. one of the most recently conspicuous of these affirmations is the infallibility of the pope of rome. nothing can be more certain in the opinion of immense numbers of roman catholics than the infallible authority of the supreme pontiff on all matters affecting doctrine. but then the matters affecting doctrine include many subjects which come within the circle of the sciences. history is one of those subjects which modern intellectual criticism takes leave to study after its own methods, and yet certain prevalent views of history are offensive to the pope and explicitly condemned by him. the consequence is, that in order to study history with mental liberty, we have to act practically as if there existed a doubt of the papal infallibility. the same difficulty occurs with reference to the great protestant doctrine which attributes a similar infallibility to the various authors who composed what are now known to us as the holy scriptures. our men of science act, and the laws of scientific investigation compel them to act, as if it were not quite certain that the views of scientific subjects held by those early writers were so final as to render modern investigation superfluous. it is useless to disguise the fact that there is a real opposition of method between intellect and faith, and that the independence of the intellectual life can never be fully secured unless all affirmations based upon authority are treated as if they were doubtful. this implies no change of manner in the intellectual classes towards those classes whose mental habits are founded upon obedience. i mean that the man of science does not treat the affirmations of any priesthood with less respect than the affirmations of his own scientific brethren; he applies with perfect impartiality the same criticism to all affirmations, from whatever source they emanate. the intellect does not recognize authority in any one, and intellectual men do not treat the pope, or the author of genesis, with less consideration than those famous persons who in their day have been the brightest luminaries of science. the difficulty, however, remains, that whilst the intellectual class has no wish to offend either those who believe in the infallibility of the pope, or those who believe in the infallibility of the author of genesis, it is compelled to conduct its own investigations as if those infallibilities were matters of doubt and not of certainty. why this is so, may be shown by a reference to the operation of nature in other ways. the rewards of physical strength and health are not given to the most moral, to the most humane, to the most gentle, but to those who have acted, and whose forefathers have acted, in the most perfect accordance with the laws of their physical constitution. so the perfection of the intellectual life is not given to the most humble, the most believing, the most obedient, but to those who use their minds according to the most purely intellectual methods. one of the most important truths that human beings can know is the perfectly independent working of the natural laws: one of the best practical conclusions to be drawn from the observation of nature is that in the conduct of our own understandings we should use a like independence. it would be wrong, in writing to you on subjects so important as these, to shrink from handling the real difficulties. every one now is aware that science must and will pursue her own methods and work according to her own laws, without concerning herself with the most authoritative affirmations from without. but if science said one thing and authoritative tradition said another, no perfectly ingenuous person could rest contented until he had either reconciled the two or decidedly rejected one of them. it is impossible for a mind which is honest towards itself to admit that a proposition is true and false at the same time, true in science and false in theology. therefore, although the intellectual methods are entirely independent of tradition, it may easily happen that the indirect results of our following those methods may be the overthrow of some dogma which has for many generations been considered indispensable to man's spiritual welfare. with regard to this contingency it need only be observed that the intellectual forces of humanity must act, like floods and winds, according to their own laws; and that if they cast down any edifice too weak to resist them, it must be because the original constructors had not built it substantially, or because those placed in charge of it had neglected to keep it in repair. this is their business, not ours. our work is simply to ascertain truth by our own independent methods, alike without hostility to any persons claiming authority, and without deference to them. footnotes: [ ] the title of this letter seems so odd, that it may be necessary to inform the reader that it was addressed to a real person. [ ] i had desired to say something about the uses of tradition in the industrial arts and in the fine arts, but the subject is a very large one, and i have not time or space to treat it properly here. i may observe, however, briefly, that the genuine spirit of tradition has almost entirely disappeared from english industry and art, where it has been replaced by a spirit of scientific investigation and experiment. the true traditional spirit was still in full vigor in japan a few years ago, and it kept the industry and art of that country up to a remarkably high standard. the traditional spirit is most favorable to professional skill, because, under its influence, the apprentice learns thoroughly, whereas under other influences he often learns very imperfectly. the inferiority of english painting to french (considered technically) has been due to the prevalence of a traditional spirit in the french school which was almost entirely absent from our own. part vii. _women and marriage._ letter i. to a young gentleman of intellectual tastes, who, without having as yet any particular lady in view, had expressed, in a general way, his determination to get married. how ignorant we all are about marriage--people wrong in their estimates of the marriages of others--effects of marriage on the intellectual life--two courses open--a wife who would not interfere with elevated pursuits--a wife capable of understanding them--madame ingres--difference in the education of the sexes--difficulty of educating a wife. the subject of marriage is one concerning which neither i nor anybody else can have more than an infinitesimally small atom of knowledge. each of us knows how his or her own marriage has turned out; but that, in comparison with a knowledge of marriage generally, is like a single plant in comparison with the flora of the globe. the utmost experience on this subject to be found in this country extends to about three trials or experiments. a man may become twice a widower, and then marry a third time, but it may be easily shown that the variety of his experience is more than counterbalanced by its incompleteness in each instance. for the experiment to be conclusive even as to the wisdom of one decision, it must extend over half a lifetime. a true marriage is not a mere temporary arrangement, and although a young couple are said to be married as soon as the lady has changed her name, the truth is that the real marriage is a long slow intergrowth, like that of two trees planted quite close together in the forest. the subject of marriage generally is one of which men know less than they know of any other subject of universal interest. people are almost always wrong in their estimates of the marriages of others, and the best proof how little we know the real tastes and needs of those with whom we have been most intimate, is our unfailing surprise at the marriages they make. very old and experienced people fancy they know a great deal about younger couples, but their guesses, there is good reason to believe, never _exactly_ hit the mark. ever since this idea, that marriage is a subject we are all very ignorant about, had taken root in my own mind, many little incidents were perpetually occurring to confirm it; they proved to me, on the one hand, how often i had been mistaken about other people, and, on the other hand, how mistaken other people were concerning the only marriage i profess to know anything about, namely, my own. our ignorance is all the darker that few men tell us the little that they know, that little being too closely bound up with that innermost privacy of life which every man of right feeling respects in his own case, as in the case of another. the only instances which are laid bare to the public view are the unhappy marriages, which are really not marriages at all. an unhappy alliance bears exactly the same relation to a true marriage that disease does to health, and the quarrels and misery of it are the crises by which nature tries to bring about either the recovery of happiness, or the endurable peace of a settled separation. all that we really know about marriage is that it is based upon the most powerful of all our instincts, and that it shows its own justification in its fruits, especially in the prolonged and watchful care of children. but marriage is very complex in its effects, and there is one set of effects, resulting from it, to which remarkably little attention has been paid hitherto,--i mean its effects upon the intellectual life. surely they deserve consideration by all who value culture. i believe that for an intellectual man, only two courses are open; either he ought to marry some simple dutiful woman who will bear him children, and see to the household matters, and love him in a trustful spirit without jealousy of his occupations; or else, on the other hand, he ought to marry some highly intelligent lady, able to carry her education far beyond school experiences, and willing to become his companion in the arduous paths of intellectual labor. the danger in the first of the two cases is that pointed out by wordsworth in some verses addressed to lake-tourists who might feel inclined to buy a peasant's cottage in westmorland. the tourist would spoil the little romantic spot if he bought it; the charm of it is subtly dependent upon the poetry of a simple life, and would be brushed away by the influence of the things that are necessary to people in the middle class. i remember dining in a country inn with an english officer whose ideas were singularly unconventional. we were waited upon by our host's daughter, a beautiful girl, whose manners were remarkable for their natural elegance and distinction. it seemed to us both that no lady of rank could be more distinguished than she was; and my companion said that he thought a gentleman might do worse than ask that girl to marry him, and settle down quietly in that quiet mountain village, far from the cares and vanities of the world. that is a sort of dream which has occurred no doubt to many an honorable man. some men have gone so far as to try to make the dream a reality, and have married the beautiful peasant. but the difficulty is that she does not remain what she was; she becomes a sort of make-belief lady, and then her ignorance, which in her natural condition was a charming _naïveté_, becomes an irritating defect. if, however it were possible for an intellectual man to marry some simple-hearted peasant girl, and keep her carefully in her original condition, i seriously believe that the venture would be less perilous to his culture than an alliance with some woman of our philistine classes, equally incapable of comprehending his pursuits, but much more likely to interfere with them. i once had a conversation on this subject with a distinguished artist, who is now a widower, and who is certainly not likely to be prejudiced against marriage by his own experience, which had been an unusually happy one. his view was that a man devoted to art might marry either a plain-minded woman, who would occupy herself exclusively with household matters and shield his peace by taking these cares upon herself, or else a woman quite capable of entering into his artistic life; but he was convinced that a marriage which exposed him to unintelligent criticism and interference would be dangerous in the highest degree. and of the two kinds of marriage which he considered possible he preferred the former, that with the entirely ignorant and simple person from whom no interference was to be apprehended. he considered the first madame ingres the true model of an artist's wife, because she did all in her power to guard her husband's peace against the daily cares of life and never herself disturbed it, acting the part of a breakwater which protects a space of calm, and never destroys the peace that it has made. this may be true for artists whose occupation is rather æsthetic than intellectual, and does not get much help or benefit from talk; but the ideal marriage for a man of great literary culture would be one permitting some equality of companionship, or, if not equality, at least interest. that this ideal is not a mere dream, but may consolidate into a happy reality, several examples prove; yet these examples are not so numerous as to relieve me from anxiety about your chances of finding such companionship. the different education of the two sexes separates them widely at the beginning, and to meet on any common ground of culture a second education has to be gone through. it rarely happens that there is resolution enough for this. the want of thoroughness and reality in the education of both sexes, but especially in that of women, may be attributed to a sort of policy which is not very favorable to companionship in married life. it appears to be thought wise to teach boys things which women do not learn, in order to give women a degree of respect for men's attainments, which they would not be so likely to feel if they were prepared to estimate them critically; whilst girls are taught arts and languages which until recently were all but excluded from our public schools, and won no rank at our universities. men and women had consequently scarcely any common ground to meet upon, and the absence of serious mental discipline in the training of women made them indisposed to submit to the irksomeness of that earnest intellectual labor which might have remedied the deficiency. the total lack of accuracy in their mental habits was then, and is still for the immense majority of women, the least easily surmountable impediment to culture. the history of many marriages which have failed to realize intellectual companionship is comprised in a sentence which was actually uttered by one of the most accomplished of my friends: "she knew nothing when i married her. i tried to teach her something; it made her angry, and i gave it up." letter ii. to a young gentleman who contemplated marriage. the foundations of the intellectual marriage--marriage not a snare or pitfall for the intellectual--men of culture, who marry badly, often have themselves to blame--for every grade of the masculine intellect there exists a corresponding grade of the feminine intellect--difficulty of finding the true mate--french university professors--an extreme case of intellectual separation--regrets of a widow--women help us less by adding to our knowledge than by understanding us. in several letters which have preceded this i have indicated some of the differences between the female sex and ours, and it is time to examine the true foundations of the intellectual marriage. let me affirm, to begin with, my profound faith in the natural arrangement. there is in nature so much evident care for the development of the intellectual life, so much protection of it in the social order, there are such admirable contrivances for continuing it from century to century, that we may fairly count upon some provision for its necessities in marriage. intellectual men are not less alive to the charms of women than other men are; indeed the greatest of them have always delighted in the society of women. if marriage were really dangerous to the intellectual life, it would be a moral snare or pitfall, from which the best and noblest would be least likely to escape. it is hard to believe that the strong passions which so often accompany high intellectual gifts were intended either to drive their possessors into immorality or else to the misery of ill-assorted unions. no, there _is_ such a thing as the intellectual marriage, in which the intellect itself is married. if such marriages are not frequent, it is that they are not often made the deliberate purpose of a wise alliance. men choose their wives because they are pretty, or because they are rich, or because they are well-connected, but rarely for the permanent interest of their society. yet who that had ever been condemned to the dreadful embarrassments of a _tête-à-tête_ with an uncompanionable person, could reflect without apprehension on a lifetime of such _tête-à-têtes_? when intellectual men suffer from this misery they have themselves to blame. what is the use of having any mental superiority, if, in a matter so enormously important as the choice of a companion for life, it fails to give us a warning when the choice is absurdly unsuitable? when men complain, as they do not unfrequently, that their wives have no ideas, the question inevitably suggests itself, why the superiority of the masculine intellect did not, in these cases, permit it to discover the defect in time? if we are so clever as to be bored by ordinary women, why cannot our cleverness find out the feminine cleverness which would respond to it? what i am going to say now is in its very nature incapable of proof, and yet the longer i live the more the truth of it is "borne in upon me." i feel convinced that for every grade of the masculine intellect there exists a corresponding grade of the feminine intellect, so that a precisely suitable intellectual marriage is always possible for every one. but since the higher intellects are rare, and rare in proportion to their elevation, it follows that the difficulty of finding the true mate increases with the mental strength and culture of the man. if the "mental princes," as blake called himself, are to marry the mental princesses, they will not always discover them quite so easily as kings' sons find kings' daughters. this difficulty of finding the true mate is the real reason why so many clever men marry silly or stupid women. the women about them seem to be all very much alike, mentally; it seems hopeless to expect any real companionship, and the clever men are decided by the color of a girl's eyes, or a thousand pounds more in her dowry, or her relationship to a peer of the realm. it was remarked to me by a french university professor, that although men in his position had on the whole much more culture than the middle class, they had an extraordinary talent for winning the most vulgar and ignorant wives. the explanation is, that their marriages are not intellectual marriages at all. the class of french professors is not advantageously situated; it has not great facilities for choice. their incomes are so small that, unless helped by private means, the first thing they can prudently look to in a wife is her utility as a domestic servant, which, in fact, it is her destiny to become. the intellectual disparity is from the beginning likely to be very great, because the professor is confined to the country-town where his _lycée_ happens to be situated, and in that town he does not always see the most cultivated society. he may be an intellectual prince, but where is he to find his princess? the marriage begins without the idea of intellectual companionship, and it continues as it began. the girl was uneducated: it seems hopeless to try to educate the woman; and then there is the supreme difficulty, only to be overcome by two wills at once most resolute and most persistent, namely, how to find the time. years pass; the husband is occupied all day, the wife needs to cheer herself with a little society, and goes to sit with neighbors who are not likely to add anything valuable to her knowledge or to give any elevation to her thoughts. then comes the final fixing and crystallization of her intellect, after which, however much pains and labor might be taken by the pair, she is past the possibility of change. these women are often so good and devoted that their husbands enjoy great happiness; but it is a kind of happiness curiously independent of the lady's presence. the professor may love his wife, and fully appreciate her qualities as a housekeeper, but he passes a more interesting evening with some male friend whose reading is equal to his own. sometimes the lady perceives this, and it is an element of sadness in her life. "i never see my husband," she tells you, not in anger. "his work occupies him all day, and in the evening he sees his friends." the pair walk out together twice a week. i sometimes wonder what they say to each other during those conjugal promenades. they talk about their children, probably, and the little recurring difficulties about money. he cannot talk about his studies, or the intellectual speculations which his studies continually suggest. the most extreme cases of intellectual separation between husband and wife that ever came under my observation was, however, not that of a french professor, but a highly-cultivated scotch lawyer. he was one of the most intellectual men i ever knew--a little cynical, but full of original power, and uncommonly well-informed. his theory was, that women ought not to be admitted into the region of masculine thought--that it was not good for them; and he acted so consistently up to this theory, that although he would open his mind with the utmost frankness to a male acquaintance over the evening whisky-toddy, there was not whisky enough in all scotland to make him frank in the presence of his wife. she really knew nothing whatever about his intellectual existence; and yet there was nothing in his ways of thinking which an honorable man need conceal from an intelligent woman. his theory worked well enough in practice, and his reserve was so perfect that it may be doubted whether even feminine subtlety ever suspected it. the explanation of his system may perhaps have been this. he was an exceedingly busy man; he felt that he had not time to teach his wife to know him as he was, and so preferred to leave her with her own conception of him, rather than disturb that conception when he believed it impossible to replace it by a completely true one. we all act in that way with those whom we consider _quite_ excluded from our private range of thought. all this may be very prudent and wise: there may be degrees of conjugal felicity, satisfactory in their way, without intellectual intercourse, and yet i cannot think that any man of high culture could regard his marriage as altogether a successful one so long as his wife remained shut out from his mental life. nor is the exclusion always quite agreeable to the lady herself. a widow said to me that her husband had never thought it necessary to try to raise her to his own level, yet she believed that with his kindly help she might have attained it. you with your masculine habits, may observe, as to this, that if the lady had seriously cared to attain a higher level she might have achieved it by her own private independent effort. but this is exactly what the feminine nature never does. a clever woman is the best of pupils, when she loves her teacher, but the worst of solitary learners. it is not by adding to our knowledge, but by understanding us, that women are our helpers. they understand us far better than men do, when once they have the degree of preliminary information which enables them to enter into our pursuits. men are occupied with their personal works and thoughts, and have wonderfully little sympathy left to enable them to comprehend us; but a woman, by her divine sympathy--divine indeed, since it was given by god for this--can enter into our inmost thought, and make allowances for all our difficulties. talk about your work and its anxieties to a club of masculine friends, they will give very little heed to you; they are all thinking about themselves, and they will dislike your egotism because they have so much egotism of their own, which yours invades and inconveniences. but talk in the same way to any woman who has education enough to enable her to follow you, and she will listen so kindly, and so very intelligently, that you will be betrayed into interminable confidences. now, although an intellectual man may not care to make himself understood by all the people in the street, it is not a good thing for him to feel that he is understood by nobody. the intellectual life is sometimes a fearfully solitary one. unless he lives in a great capital the man devoted to that life is more than all other men liable to suffer from isolation, to feel utterly alone beneath the deafness of space and the silence of the stars. give him one friend who can understand him, who will not leave him, who will always be accessible by day and night--one friend, one kindly listener, just one, and the whole universe is changed. it is deaf and indifferent no longer, and whilst _she_ listens, it seems as if all men and angels listened also, so perfectly his thought is mirrored in the light of her answering eyes. letter iii. to a young gentleman who contemplated marriage. the intellectual ideal of marriage--the danger of dulness--to be counteracted only by the renewal of both minds--example of lady baker--separation of the sexes by an old prejudice about education--this prejudice on the decline--influence of the late prince consort. how far may you hope to realize the intellectual ideal of marriage? have i ever observed in actual life any approximate realization of that ideal? these are the two questions which conclude and epitomize the last of your recent letters. let me endeavor to answer them as satisfactorily as the obscurity of the subject will permit. the intellectual ideal seems to be that of a conversation on all the subjects you most care about, which should never lose its interest. is it possible that two people should live together and talk to each other every day for twenty years without knowing each other's views too well for them to seem worth expressing or worth listening to? there are friends whom we know _too_ well, so that our talk with them has less of refreshment and entertainment than a conversation with the first intelligent stranger on the quarter-deck of the steamboat. it is evident that from the intellectual point of view this is the great danger of marriage. it may become dull, not because the mental force of either of the parties has declined, but because each has come to know so accurately beforehand what the other will say on any given topic, that inquiry is felt to be useless. this too perfect intimacy, which has ended many a friendship outside of marriage, may also terminate the intellectual life in matrimony itself. let us not pass too lightly over this danger, for it is not to be denied. unless carefully provided against, it will gradually extinguish the light that plays between the wedded intelligences as the electric light burns between two carbon points. i venture to suggest, however, that this evil may be counteracted by persons of some energy and originality. this is one of those very numerous cases in which an evil is sure to arrive if nothing is done to prevent it, yet in which the evil need not arrive when those whom it menaces are forewarned. to take an illustration intelligible in these days of steam-engines. we know that if the water is allowed to get very low in the boiler a destructive explosion will be the consequence; yet, since every stoker is aware of this, such explosions are not of frequent occurrence. that evil is continually approaching and yet continually averted by the exercise of human foresight. let us suppose that a married couple are clearly aware that in the course of years their society is sure to become mutually uninteresting unless something is done to preserve the earlier zest of it. what is that something? that which an author does for the unknown multitude of his readers. every author who succeeds takes the trouble to renew his mind either by fresh knowledge or new thoughts. is it not at least equally worth while to do as much to preserve the interest of marriage? without undervaluing the friendly adhesion of many readers, without affecting any contempt for fame, which is dearer to the human heart than wealth itself whenever it appears to be not wholly unattainable, may not i safely affirm that the interest of married life, from its very _nearness_, has a still stronger influence upon the mind of any thinking person, of either sex, than the approbation of unnumbered readers in distinct countries or continents? you never _see_ the effect of your thinking on your readers; they live and die far away from you, a few write letters of praise or criticism, the thousands give no sign. but the wife is with you always, she is almost as near to you as your own body; the world, to you, is a figure-picture in which there is one figure, the rest is merely background. and if an author takes pains to renew his mind for the people in the background, is it not at least equally worth your while to bring fresh thought for the renewal of your life with her? this, then, is my theory of the intellectual marriage, that the two wedded intellects ought to renew themselves continually for each other. and i argue that if this were done in earnest, the otherwise inevitable dulness would be perpetually kept at bay. to the other question, whether in actual life i have ever seen this realized, i answer yes, in several instances. not in very many instances, yet in more than one. women, when they have conceived the idea that this renewal is necessary, have resolution enough for the realization of it. there is hardly any task too hard for them, if they believe it essential to the conjugal life. i could give you the name and address of one who mastered greek in order not to be excluded from her husband's favorite pursuit; others have mastered other languages for the same object, and even some branch of science for which the feminine mind has less natural affinity than it has for imaginative literature. their remarkable incapacity for independent mental labor is accompanied by an equally remarkable capacity for labor under an accepted masculine guidance. in this connection i may without impropriety mention one englishwoman, for she is already celebrated, the wife of sir samuel baker, the discoverer of the albert nyanza. she stood with him on the shore of that unknown sea, when first it was beheld by english eyes; she had passed with him through all the hard preliminary toils and trials. she had learned arabic with him in a year of necessary but wearisome delay; her mind had travelled with his mind as her feet had followed his footsteps. scarcely less beautiful, if less heroic, is the picture of the geologist's wife, mrs. buckland, who taught herself to reconstruct broken fossils, and did it with a surprising delicacy, and patience, and skill, full of science, yet more than science, the perfection of feminine art. the privacy of married life often prevents us from knowing the extent to which intelligent women have renewed their minds by fresh and varied culture for the purpose of retaining their ascendency over their husbands, or to keep up the interest of their lives. it is done much more frequently by women than by men. they have so much less egotism, so much more adaptability, that they fit themselves to us oftener than we adapt ourselves to them. but in a quiet perfect marriage these efforts would be mutual. the husband would endeavor to make life interesting to his companion by taking a share in some pursuit which was really her own. it is easier for us than it was for our ancestors to do this--at least for our immediate ancestors. there existed, fifty years ago, a most irrational prejudice, very strongly rooted in the social conventions of the time, about masculine and feminine accomplishments. the educations of the two sexes were so trenchantly separated that neither had access to the knowledge of the other. the men had learned latin and greek, of which the women were ignorant; the women had learned french or italian, which the men could neither read nor speak. the ladies studied fine art, not seriously, but it occupied a good deal of their time and thoughts; the gentlemen had a manly contempt for it, which kept them, as contempt always does, in a state of absolute ignorance. the intellectual separation of the sexes was made as complete as possible by the conventionally received idea that a man could not learn what girls learned without effeminacy, and that if women aspired to men's knowledge they would forfeit the delicacy of their sex. this illogical prejudice was based on a bad syllogism of this kind:-- girls speak french, and learn music and drawing. benjamin speaks french, and learns music and drawing. benjamin is a girl. and the prejudice, powerful as it was, had not even the claim of any considerable antiquity. think how strange and unreasonable it would have seemed to lady jane grey and sir philip sidney! in their time, ladies and gentlemen studied the same things, the world of culture was the same for both, and they could meet in it as in a garden. happily we are coming back to the old rational notion of culture as independent of the question of sex. latin and greek are not unfeminine; they were spoken by women in athens and rome; the modern languages are fit for a man to learn, since men use them continually on the battle-fields and in the parliaments and exchanges of the world. art is a manly business, if ever any human occupation could be called manly, for the utmost efforts of the strongest men are needed for success in it. the increasing interest in the fine arts, the more important position given to modern languages in the universities, the irresistible attractions and growing authority of science, all tend to bring men and women together on subjects understood by both, and therefore operate directly in favor of intellectual interests in marriage. you will not suspect me of a snobbish desire to pay compliments to royalty if i trace some of these changes in public opinion to the example and influence of the prince consort, operating with some effect during his life, yet with far greater force since he was taken away from us. the truth is, that the most modern english ideal of gentlemanly culture is that which prince albert, to a great extent, realized in his own person. perhaps his various accomplishments may be a little embellished or exaggerated in the popular belief, but it is unquestionable that his notion of culture was very large and liberal, and quite beyond the narrow pedantry of the preceding age. there was nothing in it to exclude a woman, and we know that she who loved him entered largely into the works and recreations of his life. letter iv. to a young gentleman who contemplated marriage. women do not of themselves undertake intellectual labor--their resignation to ignorance--absence of scientific curiosity in women--they do not accumulate accurate knowledge--archimedes in his bath--rarity of inventions due to women--exceptions. before saying much about the influence of marriage on the intellectual life, it is necessary to make some inquiry into the intellectual nature of women. the first thing to be noted is that, with exceptions so rare as to be practically of no importance to an argument, women do not of themselves undertake intellectual labor. even in the situations most favorable for labor of that kind, women do not undertake it unless they are urged to it, and directed in it, by some powerful masculine influence. in the absence of that influence, although their minds are active, that activity neither tends to discipline nor to the accumulation of knowledge. women who are not impelled by some masculine influence are not superior, either in knowledge or discipline of the mind, at the age of fifty to what they were at the age of twenty-five. in other words, they have not in themselves the motive powers which can cause an intellectual advance. the best illustration of this is a sisterhood of three or four rich old maids, with all the advantages of leisure. you will observe that they invariably remain, as to their education, where they were left by their teachers many years before. they will often lament, perhaps, that in their day education was very inferior to what it is now; but it never occurs to them that the large leisure of subsequent years might, had it been well employed, have supplied those deficiencies of which they are sensible. nothing is more curiously remote from masculine habits than the resignation to particular degrees of ignorance, as to the inevitable, which a woman will express in a manner which says: "you know i am so; you know that i cannot make myself better informed." they are like perfect billiard-balls on a perfect table, which stop when no longer impelled, wherever they may happen to be. it is this absence of intellectual initiative which causes the great ignorance of women. what they have been well taught, that they know, but they do not increase their stores of knowledge. even in what most interests them, theology, they repeat, but do not extend, their information. all the effort of their minds appears (so far as an outside observer may presume to judge) to act like water on a picture, which brings out the colors that already exist upon the canvas but does not add anything to the design. there is a great and perpetual freshness and vividness in their conceptions, which is often lacking in our own. our conceptions fade, and are replaced; theirs are not replaced, but refreshed. what many women do for their theological conceptions or opinions, others do with reference to the innumerable series of questions of all kinds which present themselves in the course of life. they attempt to solve them by the help of knowledge acquired in girlhood; and if that cannot be done, they either give them up as beyond the domain of women, or else trust to hearsay for a solution. what they will _not_ do is to hunt the matter out unaided, and get an accurate answer by dint of independent investigation. there is another characteristic of women, not peculiar to them, for many men have it in an astonishing degree, and yet more general in the female sex than in the male: i allude to the absence of scientific curiosity. ladies see things of the greatest wonder and interest working in their presence and for their service without feeling impelled to make any inquiries into the manner of their working. i could mention many very curious instances of this, but i select one which seems typical. many years ago i happened to be in a room filled with english ladies, most of whom were highly intelligent, and the conversation happened to turn upon a sailing-boat which belonged to me. one of the ladies observed that sails were not of much use, since they could only be available to push the boat in the direction of the wind; a statement which all the other ladies received with approbation. now, all these ladies had seen ships working under canvas against head-winds, and they might have reflected that without that portion of the art of seamanship every vessel unprovided with steam would assuredly drift upon a lee-shore; but it was not in the feminine nature to make a scientific observation of that kind. you will answer, perhaps, that i could scarcely expect ladies to investigate men's business, and that seamanship is essentially the business of our own sex. but the truth is, that all english people, no matter of what sex, have so direct an interest in the maritime activity of england, that they might reasonably be expected to know the one primary conquest on which for many centuries that activity has depended, the conquest of the opposing wind, the sublimest of the early victories of science. and this absence of curiosity in women extends to things they use every day. they never seem to want to know the insides of things as we do. all ladies know that steam makes a locomotive go; but they rest satisfied with that, and do not inquire further _how_ the steam sets the wheels in motion. they know that it is necessary to wind up their watches, but they do not care to inquire into the real effects of that little exercise of force. now this absence of the investigating spirit has very wide and important consequences. the first consequence of it is that women do not naturally accumulate accurate knowledge. left to themselves, they accept various kinds of teaching, but they do not by any analysis of their own either put that teaching to any serious intellectual test, or qualify themselves for any extension of it by independent and original discovery. we of the male sex are seldom clearly aware how much of our practical force, of the force which discovers and originates, is due to our common habit of analytical observation; yet it is scarcely too much to say that most of our inventions have been suggested by actually or intellectually pulling something else in pieces. and such of our discoveries as cannot be traced directly to analysis are almost always due to habits of general observation which lead us to take note of some fact apparently quite remote from what it helps us to arrive at. one of the best instances of this indirect utility of habitual observation, as it is one of the earliest, is what occurred to archimedes in his bath. when the water displaced by his body overflowed, he noticed the fact of displacement, and at once perceived its applicability to the cubic measurement of complicated bodies. it is possible that if his mind had not been exercised at the time about the adulteration of the royal crown, it would not have been led to anything by the overflowing of his bath; but the capacity to receive a suggestion of that kind is, i believe, a capacity exclusively masculine. a woman would have noticed the overflowing, but she would have noticed it only as a cause of disorder or inconvenience. this absence of the investigating and discovering tendencies in women is confirmed by the extreme rarity of inventions due to women, even in the things which most interest and concern them. the stocking-loom and the sewing-machine are the two inventions which would most naturally have been hit upon by women, for people are naturally inventive about things which relieve _themselves_ of labor, or which increase their own possibilities of production; and yet the stocking-loom and the sewing-machine are both of them masculine ideas, carried out to practical efficiency by masculine energy and perseverance. so i believe that all the improvements in pianos are due to men, though women have used pianos much more than men have used them. this, then, is in my view the most important negative characteristic of women, that they do not push forwards intellectually by their own force. there have been a few instances in which they have written with power and originality, have become learned, and greatly superior, no doubt, to the majority of men. there are three or four women in england, and as many on the continent, who have lived intellectually in harness for many years, and who unaffectedly delight in strenuous intellectual labor, giving evidence both of fine natural powers and the most persevering culture; but these women have usually been encouraged in their work by some near masculine influence. and even if it were possible, which it is not, to point to some female archimedes or leonardo da vinci, it is not the rare exceptions which concern us, but the prevalent rule of nature. without desiring to compare our most learned ladies with anything so disagreeable to the eye as a bearded woman, i may observe that nature generally has a few exceptions to all her rules, and that as women having beards are a physical exception, so women who naturally study and investigate are intellectual exceptions. once more let me repudiate any malicious intention in establishing so unfortunate and _maladroite_ an association of ideas, for nothing is less agreeable than a woman with a beard, whilst, on the contrary, the most intellectual of women may at the same time be the most permanently charming. letter v. to a young gentleman who contemplated marriage. the danger of deviation--danger from increased expenditure--nowhere so great as in england--complete absorption in business--case of a tradesman--case of a solicitor--the pursuit of comfort dangerous to the intellectual life--the meanness of its results--fireside purposes--danger of deviation in rich marriages--george sand's study of this in her story of "valvèdre." amongst the dangers of marriage, one of those most to be dreaded by a man given to intellectual pursuits is the deviation which, in one way or other, marriage inevitably produces. it acts like the pointsman on a railway, who, by pulling a lever, sends the train in another direction. the married man never goes, or hardly ever goes, exactly on the same intellectual lines which he would have followed if he had remained a bachelor. this deviation may or may not be a gain; it is always a most serious danger. sometimes the deviation is produced by the necessity for a stricter attention to money, causing a more unremitting application to work that pays well, and a proportionate neglect of that which can only give extension to our knowledge and clearness to our views. in no country is this danger so great as it is in england, where the generally expensive manner of living, and the prevalent desire to keep families in an ideally perfect state of physical comfort, produce an absorption in business which in all but the rarest instances leaves no margin for intellectual labor. there are, no doubt, some remarkable examples of men earning a large income by a laborious profession, who have gained reputation in one of the sciences or in some branch of literature, but these are very exceptional cases. a man who works at his profession as most englishmen with large families have to work, can seldom enjoy that surplus of nervous energy which would be necessary to carry him far in literature or science. i remember meeting an english tradesman in the railway between paris and the coast, who told me that he was obliged to visit france very frequently, yet could not speak french, which was a great deficiency and inconvenience to him. "why not learn?" i then asked, and received the following answer: "i have to work at my business all day long, and often far into the night. when the day's work is over i generally feel very tired, and want rest; but if i don't happen to feel quite so tired, then it is not work that i need, but recreation, of which i get very little. i never feel the courage to set to work at the french grammar, though it would be both pleasant and useful to me to know french; indeed, i constantly feel the want of it. it might, perhaps, be possible to learn from a phrase-book in the railway train, but to save time i always travel at night. being a married man, i have to give my whole attention to my business." a solicitor with a large practice in london held nearly the same language. he worked at his office all day, and often brought home the most difficult work for the quiet of his own private study after the household had gone to bed. the little reading that he could indulge in was light reading. in reality the profession intruded even on his few hours of leisure, for he read many of the columns in the _times_ which relate to law or legislation, and these make at the end of a few years an amount of reading sufficient for the mastery of a foreign literature. this gentleman answered very accurately to m. taine's description of the typical englishman, absorbed in business and the _times_. in these cases it is likely that the effect of marriage was not inwardly felt as a deviation; but when culture has been fairly begun, and marriage hinders the pursuit of it, or makes it deviate from the chosen path, then there is often an inward consciousness of the fact, not without its bitterness. a remarkable article on "luxury," in the second volume of the _cornhill magazine_, deals with this subject in a manner evidently suggested by serious reflection and experience. the writer considers the effects of the pursuit of comfort (never carried so far as it is now) on the higher moral and intellectual life. the comforts of a bachelor were not what the writer meant; these are easily procured, and seldom require the devotion of all the energies. the "comfort" which is really dangerous to intellectual growth is that of a family establishment, because it so easily becomes the one absorbing object of existence. men who began life with the feeling that they would willingly devote their powers to great purposes, like the noble examples of past times who labored and suffered for the intellectual advancement of their race, and had starvation for their reward, or in some cases even the prison and the stake--men who in their youth felt themselves to be heirs of a nobility of spirit like that of bruno, of swammerdam, of spinoza, have too often found themselves in the noon of life concentrating all the energies of body and soul on the acquisition of ugly millinery and uglier upholstery, and on spreading extravagant tables to feed uncultivated guests. "it is impossible," says the writer of the article just alluded to, "it is impossible to say why men were made, but assuming that they were made for some purpose, of which the faculties which they possess afford evidence, it follows that they were intended to do many other things besides providing for their families and enjoying their society. they were meant to know, to act, and to feel--to know everything which the mind is able to contemplate, to name, and to classify; to do everything which the will, prompted by the passions and guided by the conscience, can undertake; and, subject to the same guidance, to feel in its utmost vigor every emotion which the contemplation of the various persons and objects which surround us can excite. this view of the objects of life affords an almost infinite scope for human activity in different directions; but it also shows that it is in the highest degree dangerous to its beauty and its worth to allow any one side of life to become the object of idolatry; and there are many reasons for thinking that domestic happiness is rapidly assuming that position in the minds of the more comfortable classes of englishmen.... it is a singular and affecting thing, to see how every manifestation of human energy bears witness to the shrewdness of the current maxim that a large income is a necessary of life. whatever is done for money is done admirably well. give a man a specific thing to make or to write, and pay him well for it, and you may with a little trouble secure an excellent article; but the ability which does these things so well, might have been and ought to have been trained to far higher things, which for the most part are left undone, because the clever workman thinks himself bound to earn what will keep himself, his wife, and his six or seven children, up to the established standard of comfort. what was at first a necessity, perhaps an unwelcome one, becomes by degrees a habit and a pleasure, and men who might have done memorable and noble things, if they had learnt in time to consider the doing of such things an object worth living for, lose the power and the wish to live for other than fireside purposes." but this kind of intellectual deviation, you may answer, is not strictly the consequence of marriage, _quâ_ marriage; it is one of the consequences of a degree of relative poverty, produced by the larger expenditure of married life, but which might be just as easily produced by a certain degree of money-pressure in the condition of a bachelor. let me therefore point out a kind of deviation which may be as frequently observed in rich marriages as in poor ones. suppose the case of a bachelor with a small but perfectly independent income amounting to some hundreds a year, who is devoted to intellectual pursuits, and spends his time in study or with cultivated friends of his own, choosing friends whose society is an encouragement and a help. suppose that this man makes an exceedingly prudent marriage, with a rich woman, you may safely predict, in this instance, intellectual deviations of a kind perilous to the highest culture. he will have new calls upon his time, his society will no longer be entirely of his own choosing, he will no longer be able to devote himself with absolute singleness of purpose to studies from which his wife must necessarily be excluded. if he were to continue faithful to his old habits, and shut himself up every day in his library or laboratory, or set out on frequent scientific expeditions, his wife would either be a lady of quite extraordinary perfection of temper, or else entirely indifferent in her feelings towards him, if she did not regard his pursuits with quickly-increasing jealousy. she would think, and justifiably think, that he ought to give more of his time to the enjoyment of her society, that he ought to be more by her side in the carriage and in the drawing-room, and if he loved her he would yield to these kindly and reasonable wishes. he would spend many hours of every day in a manner not profitable to his great pursuits, and many weeks of every year in visits to her friends. his position would be even less favorable to study in some respects than that of a professional man. it would be difficult for him, if an amateur artist, to give that unremitting attention to painting which the professional painter gives. he could not say, "i do this for you and for our children;" he could only say, "i do it for my own pleasure," which is not so graceful an excuse. as a bachelor, he might work as professional people work, but his marriage would strongly accentuate the amateur character of his position. it is possible that if his labors had won great fame the lady might bear the separation more easily, for ladies always take a noble pride in the celebrity of their husbands; but the best and worthiest intellectual labor often brings no fame whatever, and notoriety is a mere accident of some departments of the intellectual life, and not its ultimate object. george sand, in her admirable novel "valvèdre," has depicted a situation of this kind with the most careful delicacy of touch. valvèdre was a man of science, who attempted to continue the labors of his intellectual life after marriage had united him to a lady incapable of sharing them. the reader pities both, and sympathizes with both. it is hard, on the one hand, that a man endowed by nature with great talents for scientific work should not go on with a career already gloriously begun; and yet, on the other hand, a woman who is so frequently abandoned for science may blamelessly feel some jealousy of science. valvèdre, in narrating the story of his unhappy wedded life, said that alida wished to have at her orders a perfect gentleman to accompany her, but that he felt in himself a more serious ambition. he had not aimed at fame, but he had thought it possible to become a useful servant, bringing his share of patient and courageous seekings to the edifice of the sciences. he had hoped that alida would understand this. "'there is time enough for everything,' she said, still retaining him in the useless wandering life that she had chosen. 'perhaps,' he answered, 'but on condition that i lose no more of it; and it is not in this wandering life, cut to pieces by a thousand unforeseen interruptions, that i can make the hours yield their profit.' "'ah! we come to the point!' exclaimed alida impetuously. 'you wish to leave me, and to travel alone in impossible regions.' "'no, i will work near you and abandon certain observations which it would be necessary to make at too great a distance, but you also will sacrifice something: we will not see so many idle people, we will settle somewhere for a fixed time. it shall be where you will, and if the place does not suit you, we will try another; but from time to time you will permit me a phase of sedentary work.' "'yes, yes, you want to live for yourself alone; you have lived enough for me. i understand; your love is satiated and at an end.' "nothing could conquer her conviction _that study was her rival_, and that love was only possible in idleness. "'to love is everything,' she said; 'and he who loves has not time to concern himself with anything else. whilst the husband is intoxicating himself with the marvels of science, the wife languishes and dies. it is the destiny which awaits me; and since i am a burden to you, i should do better to die at once.' "a little later valvèdre ventured to hint something about work, hoping to conquer his wife's _ennui_, on which she proclaimed the hatred of work as a sacred right of her nature and position. "'nobody ever taught me to work,' she said, 'and i did not marry under a promise to begin again at the _a_, _b_, _c_ of things. whatever i know i have learned by intuition, by reading without aim or method. i am a woman; my destiny is to love my husband and bring up children. it is very strange that my husband should be the person who counsels me to think of something better.'" i am far from suggesting that madame valvèdre is an exact representative of her sex, but the sentiments which in her are exaggerated, and expressed with passionate plainness, are in much milder form very prevalent sentiments indeed; and valvèdre's great difficulty, how to get leave to prosecute his studies with the degree of devotion necessary to make them fruitful, is not at all an uncommon difficulty with intellectual men after marriage. the character of madame valvèdre, being passionate and excessive, led her to an open expression of her feelings; but feelings of a like kind, though milder in degree, exist frequently below the surface, and may be detected by any vigilant observer of human nature. that such feelings are very natural it is impossible even for a _savant_ to deny; but whilst admitting the clear right of a woman to be preferred by a man to science when once he has married her, let me observe that the man might perhaps do wisely, before the knot is tied, to ascertain whether her intellectual dowry is rich enough to compensate him for the sacrifices she is likely to exact. letter vi. to a solitary student. need of a near intellectual friendship in solitude--persons who live independently of custom run a peculiar risk in marriage--women by nature more subservient to custom than men are--difficulty of conciliating solitude and marriage--de sénancour--the marriages of eccentrics--their wives either protect them or attempt to reform them. isolated as you are, by the very superiority of your culture, from the ignorant provincial world around you, i cannot but believe that marriage is essential to your intellectual health and welfare. if you married some cultivated woman, bred in the cultivated society of a great capital, that companionship would give you an independence of surrounding influences which nothing else can give. you fancy that by shutting yourself up in a country house you are uninfluenced by the world around you. it is a great error. you know that you are isolated, that you are looked upon and probably ridiculed as an eccentric, and this knowledge, which it is impossible to banish from your mind, deprives your thinking of elasticity and grace. you urgently need the support of an intellectual friendship quite near to you, under your own roof. bachelors in great cities feel this necessity less. still remember, that whoever has arranged his life independently of custom runs a peculiar risk in marriage. women are by nature far more subservient to custom than we are, more than we can easily conceive. the danger of marriage, for a person of your tastes, is that a woman entering your house might enter it as the representative of that minutely-interfering authority which you continually ignore. and let us never forget that a perfect obedience to custom requires great sacrifices of time and money that you might not be disposed to make, and which certainly would interfere with study. you value and enjoy your solitude, well knowing how great a thing it is to be master of all your hours. it is difficult to conciliate solitude, or even a wise and suitable selection of acquaintances, with the semi-publicity of marriage. heads of families receive many persons in their houses whom they would never have invited, and from whose society they derive little pleasure and no profit. de sénancour had plans of studious retirement, and hoped that the "_douce intimité_" of marriage might be compatible with these cherished projects. but marriage, he found, drew him into the circle of ordinary provincial life, and he always suffered from its influences. you are necessarily an eccentric. in the neighborhood where you live it is an eccentricity to study, for nobody but you studies anything. a man so situated is fortunate when this feeling of eccentricity is alleviated, and unfortunate when it is increased. a wife would certainly do one or the other. married to a very superior woman, able to understand the devotion to intellectual aims, you would be much relieved of the painful consciousness of eccentricity; but a woman of less capacity would intensify it. so far as we can observe the married life of others, it seems to me that i have met with instances of men, constituted and occupied very much as you are, who have found in marriage a strong protection against the ignorant judgments of their neighbors, and an assurance of intellectual peace; whilst in other cases it has appeared rather as if their solitude were made more a cause of conscious suffering, as if the walls of their cabinets were pulled down for the boobies outside to stare at them and laugh at them. a woman will either take your side against the customs of the little world around, or she will take the side of custom against you. if she loves you deeply, and if there is some visible result of your labors in fame and money, she may possibly do the first, and then she will protect your tranquillity better than a force of policemen, and give you a delightful sense of reconciliation with all humanity; but many of her most powerful instincts tend the other way. she has a natural sympathy with all the observances of custom, and you neglect them; she is fitted for social life, which you are not. unless you win her wholly to your side, she may undertake the enterprise of curing your eccentricities and adapting you to the ideal of her caste. this may be highly satisfactory to the operator, but it is full of inconveniences to the patient. letter vii. to a lady of high culture who found it difficult to associate with persons of her own sex. men are not very good judges of feminine conversation--the interest of it would be increased if women could be more freely initiated into great subjects--small subjects interesting when seen in relation to central ideas--that ladies of superior faculty ought rather to elevate female society than withdraw from it--women when displaced do not appear happy. what you confided to me in our last interesting conversation has given me material for reflection, and afforded a glimpse of a state of things which i have sometimes suspected without having data for any positive conclusion. the society of women is usually sought by men during hours of mental relaxation, and we naturally find such a charm in their mere presence, especially when they are graceful or beautiful, that we are not very severe or even accurate judges of the abstract intellectual quality of their talk. but a woman cannot feel the indescribable charm which wins us so easily, and i have sometimes thought that a superior person of your sex might be aware of certain deficiencies in her sisters which men very readily overlook. you tell me that you feel embarrassed in the society of ladies, because they know so little about the subjects which interest you, and are astonished when you speak about anything really worth attention. on the other hand, you feel perfectly at ease with men of ability and culture, and most at your ease with men of the best ability and the most eminent attainments. what you complain of chiefly in women seems to be their impatience of varieties of thought which are unfamiliar to them, and their constant preference for small topics. it has long been felt by men that if women could be more freely initiated into great subjects the interest of general conversation would be much increased. the difficulty appears to lie in their instinctive habit of making all questions personal questions. the etiquette of society makes it quite impossible for men to speak to ladies in the manner which would be intellectually most profitable to them. we may not teach because it is pedantic, and we may not contradict, because it is rude. most of the great subjects are conventionally held to be closed, so that it is a sin against good taste to discuss them. in every house the ladies have a set of fixed convictions of some kind, which it is not polite in any man to appear to doubt. the consequence of these conventional rules is that women live in an atmosphere of acquiescence which makes them intolerant of anything like bold and original thinking on important subjects. but as the mind always requires free play of some kind, when all the great subjects are forbidden it will use its activity in playing about little ones. for my part i hardly think it desirable for any of us to be incessantly coping with great subjects, and the ladies are right in taking a lively interest in the small events around them. but even the small events would have a deeper interest if they were seen in their true relations to the great currents of european thought and action. it is probably the ignorance of these relations which, more than the smallness of the topics themselves, makes feminine talk fatiguing to you. very small things indeed have an interest when exhibited in relation to larger, as men of science are continually demonstrating. i have been taking note lately of the talk that goes on around me, and i find that when it is shallow and wearisome it is always because the facts mentioned bear no reference to any central or governing idea, and do not illustrate anything. conversation is interesting in proportion to the originality of the central ideas which serve as pivots, and the fitness of the little facts and observations which are contributed by the talkers. for instance, if people happened to be talking about rats, and some one informed you that he had seen a rat last week, that would be quite uninteresting: but you would listen with greater attention if he said; "the other night, as i was going up stairs very late, i followed a very fine rat who was going up stairs too, and he was not in the least hurried, but stopped after every two or three steps to have a look at me and my candle. he was very prettily marked about the face and tail, so i concluded that he was not a common rat, but probably a lemming. two nights afterwards i met him again, and this time he seemed almost to know me, for he quietly made room for me as i passed. very likely he might be easily tamed." this is interesting, because, though the fact narrated is still trifling, it illustrates animal character. if you will kindly pardon an "improvement" of this subject, as a preacher would call it, i might add that an intellectual lady like yourself might, perhaps, do better to raise the tone of the feminine talk around her than to withdraw from it in weariness. there are always, in every circle, a few superior persons who, either from natural diffidence, or because they are not very rich, or because they are too young, suffer themselves to be entirely overwhelmed by the established mediocrity around them. what they need is a leader, a deliverer. is it not in your power to render services of this kind? could you not select from the younger ladies whom you habitually meet, a few who, like yourself, feel bored by the dulness or triviality of what you describe as the current feminine conversation? there is often a painful shyness which prevents people of real ability from using it for the advantage of others, and this shyness is nowhere so common as in england, especially provincial england. it feels the want of a hardy example. a lady who talked really well would no doubt run some risk of being rather unpleasantly isolated at first, but surely, if she tried, she might ultimately find accomplices. you could do much, to begin with, by recommending high-toned literature, and gradually awakening an interest in what is truly worth attention. it seems lamentable that every cultivated woman should be forced out of the society of her own sex, and made to depend upon ours for conversation of that kind which is an absolute necessity to the intellectual. the truth is, that women so displaced never appear altogether happy. and culture costs so much downright hard work, that it ought not to be paid for by any suffering beyond those toils which are its fair and natural price. letter viii. to a lady of high culture. greatest misfortune in the intellectual life of women--they do not hear truth--men disguise their thoughts for women--cream and curaçoa--probable permanence of the desire to please women--most truth in cultivated society--hopes from the increase of culture. i think that the greatest misfortune in the intellectual life of women is that they do not hear the truth from men. all men in cultivated society say to women as much as possible that which they may be supposed to wish to hear, and women are so much accustomed to this that they can scarcely hear without resentment an expression of opinion which takes no account of their personal and private feeling. the consideration for the feelings of women gives an agreeable tone to society, but it is fatal to the severity of truth. observe a man of the world whose opinions are well known to you,--notice the little pause before he speaks to a lady. during that little pause he is turning over what he has to say, so as to present it in the manner that will please her best; and you may be sure that the integrity of truth will suffer in the process. if we compare what we know of the man with that which the lady hears from him, we perceive the immense disadvantages of her position. he ascertains what will please her, and that is what he administers. he professes to take a deep interest in things which he does not care for in the least, and he passes lightly over subjects and events which he knows to be of the most momentous importance to the world. the lady spends an hour more agreeably than if she heard opinions which would irritate, and prognostics which would alarm her, but she has missed an opportunity for culture, she has been confirmed in feminine illusions. if this happened only from time to time, the effect would not tell so much on the mental constitution; but it is incessant, it is continual. men disguise their thoughts for women as if to venture into the feminine world were as dangerous as travelling in arabia, or as if the thoughts themselves were criminal. there appeared two or three years ago in _punch_ a clever drawing which might have served as an illustration to this subject. a fashionable doctor was visiting a lady in belgravia who complained that she suffered from debility. cod-liver oil being repugnant to her taste, the agreeable doctor, wise in his generation, blandly suggested as an effective substitute a mixture of cream and curaçoa. what that intelligent man did for his patient's physical constitution, all men of politeness do for the intellectual constitution of ladies. instead of administering the truth which would strengthen, though unpalatable, they administer intellectual cream and curaçoa. the primary cause of this tendency to say what is most pleasing to women is likely to be as permanent as the distinction of sex itself. it springs directly from sexual feelings, it is hereditary and instinctive. men will never talk to women with that rough frankness which they use between themselves. conversation between the sexes will always be partially insincere. still i think that the more women are respected, the more men will desire to be approved by them for what they are in reality, and the less they will care for approval which is obtained by dissimulation. it may be observed already that, in the most intellectual society of great capitals, men are considerably more outspoken before women than they are in the provincial middle-classes. where women have most culture, men are most open and sincere. indeed, the highest culture has a direct tendency to command sincerity in others, both because it is tolerant of variety in opinion, and because it is so penetrating that dissimulation is felt to be of no use. by the side of an uncultivated woman, a man feels that if he says anything different from what she has been accustomed to she will take offence, whilst if he says anything beyond the narrow range of her information he will make her cold and uncomfortable. the most honest of men, in such a position, finds it necessary to be very cautious, and can scarcely avoid a little insincerity. but with a woman of culture equal to his own, these causes for apprehension have no existence, and he can safely be more himself. these considerations lead me to hope that as culture becomes more general women will hear truth more frequently. whenever this comes to pass, it will be, to them, an immense intellectual gain. letter ix. to a young man of the middle class, well educated, who complained that it was difficult for him to live agreeably with his mother, a person of somewhat authoritative disposition, but uneducated. a sort of misunderstanding common in modern households--intolerance of inaccuracy--a false position--a lady not easily intimidated--difficulty of arguing when you have to teach--instance about the american war--the best course in discussion with ladies--women spoilt by non-contradiction--they make all questions personal--the strength of their feelings--their indifference to matters of fact. i have been thinking a good deal, and seriously, since we last met, about the subject of our conversation, which though a painful one is not to be timidly avoided. the degree of unhappiness in your little household, which ought to be one of the pleasantest of households, yet which, as you confided to me, is overshadowed by a continual misunderstanding, is, i fear, very common indeed at the present day. it is only by great forbearance, and great skill, that any household in which persons of very different degrees of culture have to live together on terms of equality, can be maintained in perfect peace; and neither the art nor the forbearance is naturally an attribute of youth. a man whose scholarly attainments were equal to your own, and whose experience of men and women was wider, could no doubt offer you counsel both wise and practical, yet i can hardly say that i should like you better if you followed it. i cannot blame you for having the natural characteristics of your years, an honest love of the best truth that you have attained to, an intolerance of inaccuracy on all subjects, a simple faith in the possibility of teaching others, even elderly ladies, when they happen to know less than yourself. all these characteristics are in themselves blameless; and yet in your case, and in thousands of other similar cases, they often bring clouds of storm and trial upon houses which, in a less rapidly progressive century than our own, might have been blessed with uninterrupted peace. the truth is, that you are in a false position relatively to your mother, and your mother is in a false position relatively to you. she expects deference, and deference is scarcely compatible with contradiction; certainly, if there be contradiction at all, it must be very rare, very careful, and very delicate. you, on the other hand, although no doubt full of respect and affection for your mother in your heart, cannot hear her authoritatively enunciating anything that you know to be erroneous, without feeling irresistibly urged to set her right. she is rather a talkative lady; she does not like to hear a conversation going forward without taking a part in it, and rather an important part, so that whatever subject is talked about in her presence, that subject she will talk about also. even before specialists your mother has an independence of opinion, and a degree of faith in her own conclusions, which would be admirable if they were founded upon right reason and a careful study of the subject. medical men, and even lawyers, do not intimidate her; she is convinced that she knows more about disease than the physician, and more about legal business than an old attorney. in theology no parson can approach her; but here a woman may consider herself on her own ground, as theology is the speciality of women. all this puts you out of patience, and it is intelligible that, for a young gentleman of intellectual habits and somewhat ardent temperament like yourself, it must be at times rather trying to have an authority at hand ever ready to settle all questions in a decisive manner. to you i have no counsel to offer but that of unconditional submission. you have the weakness to enter into arguments when to sustain them you must assume the part of a teacher. in arguing with a person already well-informed upon the subject in dispute, you may politely refer to knowledge which he already possesses, but when he does not possess the knowledge you cannot argue with him; you must first teach him, you must become didactic, and therefore odious. i remember a great scene which took place between you and your mother concerning the american war. it was brought on by a too precise answer of yours relatively to your friend b., who had emigrated to america. you mother asked to what part of america b. had emigrated, and you answered, "the argentine republic." a shade of displeasure clouded your mother's countenance, because she did not know where the argentine republic might be, and betrayed it by her manner. you imprudently added that it was in south america. "yes, yes, i know very well," she answered; "there was a great battle there during the american war. it is well your friend was not there under jefferson davis." now, permit me to observe, my estimable young friend, that this was what the french call a fine opportunity for holding your tongue, but your missed it. fired with an enthusiasm for truth (always dangerous to the peace of families), you began to explain to the good lady that the argentine republic, though in south america, was not one of the southern states of the union. this led to a scene of which i was the embarrassed and unwilling witness. your mother vehemently affirmed that all the southern states had been under jefferson davis, that she knew the fact perfectly, that it had always been known to every one during the war, and that, consequently, as the argentine republic was in south america, the argentine republic had been under jefferson davis. rapidly warming with this discussion, your mother "supposed that you would deny next that there had ever been such a thing as a war between the north and the south." then you, in your turn, lost temper, and you fetched an atlas for the purpose of explaining that the southern division of the continent of america was not the southern half of the united states. you were landed, as people always are landed when they prosecute an argument with the ignorant, in the thankless office of the schoolmaster. you were actually trying to give your mother a lesson in geography! she was not grateful to you for your didactic attentions. she glanced at the book as people glance at an offered dish which they dislike. she does not understand maps; the representation of places in geographical topography has never been quite clear to her. your little geographical lecture irritated, but did not inform; it clouded the countenance, but did not illuminate the understanding. the distinction between south america and the southern states is not easy to the non-analytic mind under any circumstances, but when _amour propre_ is involved it becomes impossible. i believe that the best course in discussions of this kind with ladies is simply to say _once_ what is true, for the acquittal of your own conscience, but after that to remain silent on that topic, leaving the last word to the lady, who will probably simply re-affirm what she has already said. for example, in the discussion about the argentine republic, your proper course would have been to say first, firmly, that the territory in question was not a part of the seceded states and had never been in the union, with a brief and decided geographical explanation. your mother would not have been convinced by this, and would probably have had the last word, but the matter would have ended there. another friend of mine, who is in a position very like your own, goes a step farther, and is determined to agree with his mother-in-law in everything. he always assents to her propositions. she is a frenchwoman, and has been accustomed to use _algérie_ and _afrique_ as convertible terms. somebody spoke of the cape of good hope as being in africa. "then it belongs to france, as africa belongs to france." "oui, chère mère," he answered, in his usual formula; "vous avez raison." he alluded to this afterwards when we were alone together. "i was foolish enough some years since," he said, "to argue with my _belle mère_ and try to teach her little things from time to time, but it kept her in a state of chronic ill-humor and led to no good; it spoiled her temper, and it did not improve her mind. but since i have adopted the plan of perpetual assent we get on charmingly. whatever she affirms i assent to at once, and all is well. my friends are in the secret, and so no contradictory truth disturbs our amiable tranquillity." a system of this kind spoils women completely, and makes the least contradiction intolerable to them. it is better that they should at least have the opportunity of hearing truth, though no attempt need be made to force it upon them. the position of ladies of the generation which preceded ours is in many respects a very trying one, and we do not always adequately realize it. a lady like your mother, who never really went through any intellectual discipline, who has no notion of intellectual accuracy in anything, is compelled by the irresistible feminine instinct to engage her strongest feelings in every discussion that arises. a woman can rarely detach her mind from questions of persons to apply it to questions of fact. she does not think simply, "is that true of such a thing?" but she thinks, "does he love me or respect me?" the facts about the argentine republic and the american war were probably quite indifferent to your mother; but your opposition to what she had asserted seemed to her a failure in affection, and your attempt to teach her a failure in respect. this feeling in women is far from being wholly egoistic. they refer everything to persons, but not necessarily to their own persons. whatever you affirm as a fact, they find means of interpreting as loyalty or disloyalty to some person whom they either venerate or love, to the head of religion, or of the state, or of the family. hence it is always dangerous to enter upon intellectual discussion of any kind with women, for you are almost certain to offend them by setting aside the sentiments of veneration, affection, love, which they have in great strength, in order to reach accuracy in matters of fact, which they neither have nor care for. part viii. _aristocracy and democracy._ letter i. to a young english nobleman. a contrast--a poor student--his sad fate--class-sentiment--tycho brahe--robert burns--shelley's opinion of byron--charles dickens--shopkeepers in english literature--pride of aristocratic ignorance--pursuits tabooed by the spirit of caste--affected preferences in intellectual pursuits--studies that add to gentility--sincerity of interest needed for genuine culture--the exclusiveness of scholarly caste--its bad influence on outsiders--feeling of burns toward scholars--sureness of class-instinct--unforeseen effect of railways--return to nomadic life and the chase--advantages and possibilities to life in the higher classes. it is one of the privileges of authorship to have correspondents in the most widely different positions, and by means of their frank and friendly letters (usually much more frank than any oral communication) to gain a singularly accurate insight into the working of circumstances on the human intellect and character. the same post that brought me your last letter brought news about another of my friends whose lot has been a striking contrast to your own.[ ] let me dwell upon this contrast for a few minutes. all the sunshine appears to have been on your side, and all the shadow on his. born of highly cultivated parents, in the highest rank in england under royalty, you have lived from the beginning amongst the most efficient aids to culture, and nature has so endowed you that, instead of becoming indifferent to these things from familiarity, you have learned to value them more and more in every successive year. the plainest statement of your advantages would sound like an extract from one of disraeli's novels. your father's principal castle is situated amongst the finest scenery in britain, and his palace in london is filled with masterpieces of art. wherever you have lived you have been surrounded by good literature and cultivated friends. your health is steadily robust, you can travel wherever you choose, and all the benefits of all the capitals of europe belong to you as much as to their own citizens. in all these gifts and opportunities there is but one evil--the bewilderment of their multiplicity. my other correspondent has been less fortunately situated. "i began school," he says, "when six years old, was taken from it at eleven and sent to the mines to earn a little towards my own support. i continued there till fourteen, when through an unlucky incident i was made a hopeless cripple. at that day i was earning the noble sum of eightpence per day, quite as much as any boy of that age got in the lead mines. i suffered much for two years; after that, became much easier, but my legs were quite useless, and have continued so up to the present time. the right thigh-bone is decayed, has not got worse these nine years; therefore i conclude that i may live--say another thirty years. i should _like_, at all events, for life _is_ sweet even at this cost; not but what i could die quietly enough, i dare say. i have not been idle these years...." (here permit me to introduce a parenthesis. he certainly had _not_ been idle. he had educated himself up to such a point that he could really appreciate both literature and art, and had attained some genuine skill in both. his letters to me were the letters of a cultivated gentleman, and he used invariably to insert little pen-sketches, which were done with a light and refined hand.) "i can do anything almost in bed--except getting up. i am now twenty-two years old. my father was a miner, but is now unable to work. i have only one brother working, and we are about a dozen of us; consequently we are not in the most flourishing circumstances, but a friend has put it in my power to learn to etch. i have got the tools and your handbook on the subject." these extracts are from his first letter. afterwards he wrote me others which made me feel awed and humbled by the manly cheerfulness with which he bore a lot so dreary, and by the firmness of resolution he showed in his pursuits. he could not quit his bed, but that was not the worst; he could not even sit up in bed, and yet he contrived, i know not how, both to write and draw and etch on copper, managing the plaguy chemicals, and even printing his own proofs. his bed was on wheels, on a sort of light iron carriage, and he saw nature out-of-doors. all the gladness of physical activity was completely blotted out of his existence, and in that respect his prospects were without hope. and still he said that "life was sweet." o marvel of all marvels, how _could_ that life be sweet! aided by a beautiful patience and resignation the lamp of the mind burned with a steady brightness, fed by his daily studies. in the winters, however, the diseased limb gave him prolonged agony, and in the autumn of , to avoid the months of torture that lay before him, he had himself put in the railway and sent off, in his bed, to edinburgh, sleeping in a waiting-room on the way. there was no one to attend him, but he trusted, not vainly, to the humanity of strangers. just about the same time your lordship went northwards also, with many friends, to enjoy the noble scenery, and the excitement of noble sport. my poor cripple got to edinburgh, got a glimpse of scott's monument and the athenian pillars, and submitted himself to the surgeons. they rendered him the best of services, for they ended his pains forever. so i am to get no more of those wonderfully brave and cheerful letters that were written from the little bed on wheels. i miss them for the lessons they quite unconsciously conveyed. he fancied that he was the learner, poor lad! and i the teacher, whereas it was altogether the other way. he made me feel what a blessing it is, even from the purely intellectual point of view, to be able to get out of bed after the night's rest, and go from one room to another. he made me understand the value of every liberty and every power whilst at the same time he taught me to bear more patiently every limit, and inconvenience, and restriction. in comparing his letters with yours i have been struck by one reflection predominantly, which is, the entire absence of class-sentiment in both of you. nobody, not in the secret, could guess that one set of letters came from a palace and the other set from a poor miner's cottage; and even to me, who do not see the habitations except by an effort of the memory or imagination, there is nothing to recall the immensity of the social distance that separated my two friendly and welcome correspondents. it is clear, of course, that one of them had enjoyed greater advantages than the other, but neither wrote from the point of view which marks his caste or class. it was my habit to write to you, and to him, exactly in the same tone, yet this was not felt to be unsuitable by either. is it not that the love and pursuit of culture lead each of us out of his class, and that class-views of any kind, whether of the aristocracy, or of the middle class, or of the people, inevitably narrow the mind and hinder it from receiving pure truth? have you ever known any person who lived habitually in the notions of a caste, high or low, without incapacitating himself in a greater or less degree for breadth and delicacy of perception? it seems to me that the largest and best minds, although they have been born and nurtured in this caste or that, and may continue to conform externally to its customs, always emancipate themselves from it intellectually, and arrive at a sort of neutral region, where the light is colorless, and clear, and equal, like plain daylight out of doors. so soon as we attain the forgetfulness of self, and become absorbed in our pursuits for their own sakes, the feeling of caste drops off from us. it was not a mark of culture in tycho brahe, but rather of the imperfections of his culture, that he felt so strongly the difficulty of conciliating scientific pursuits with the obligations of noble birth, and began his public discourses on astronomy by telling his audience that the work was ill-suited to his social position--hesitating, too, even about authorship from a dread of social degradation. and to take an instance from the opposite extreme of human society, robert burns betrayed the same imperfection of culture in his dedication to the members of the caledonian hunt, when he spoke of his "honest rusticity," and told the gentlefolks that he was "bred to the plough, and independent." both of these men had been unfavorably situated for the highest culture, the one by the ignorance of his epoch the other by the ignorance of his class; hence this uneasiness about themselves and their social position. shelley said of byron, "the canker of aristocracy wants to be cut out;" and he did not say this from the point of view of a democrat, for shelley was not precisely a democrat, but from, the broadly human point of view, on which the finest intellects like to take their stand. shelley perceived that byron's aristocracy narrowed him, and made his sympathies less catholic than they might have been, nor can there be any doubt of the accuracy of this estimate of shelley's; if a doubt existed it would be removed by byron's alternative for a poet, "solitude, or high life." another man of genius, whose loss we have recently deplored, was narrowed by his antipathy to the aristocratic spirit, though it is necessary to add, in justice, that it did not prevent him from valuing the friendship of noblemen whom he esteemed. the works of charles dickens would have been more accurate as pictures of english life, certainly more comprehensively accurate, if he could have felt for the aristocracy that hearty and loving sympathy which he felt for the middle classes and the people. but the narrowness of dickens is more excusable than that of byron, because a kindly heart more easily enters into the feelings of those whom it can often pity than of those who appear to be lifted above pity (though this is nothing but an appearance) and also because it is the habit of aristocracies to repel such sympathy by their manners, which the poor do not. i have often thought that a sign of aristocratic narrowness in many english authors, including some of the most popular authors of the day, is the way they speak of shopkeepers. this may be due to simple ignorance; but if so, it is ignorance that might be easily avoided. happily for our convenience there are a great many shopkeepers in england, so that there is no lack of the materials for study; but our novelists appear to consider this important class of englishmen as unworthy of any patient and serious portraiture. you may remember mr. anthony trollope's "struggles of brown, jones, and robinson," which appeared in the _cornhill magazine_, under thackeray's editorship. that was an extreme instance of the way the class is treated in our literature; and then in poetry we have some disdainful verses of mr. tennyson's. it may be presumed that there is material for grave and respectful treatment of this extensive class, but our poets and novelists do not seem to have discovered, or sought to discover, the secret of that treatment. the intensity of the prejudices of caste prevents them from seeing any possibility of true gentlemanhood in a draper or a grocer, and blinds them to the æsthetic beauty or grandeur which may be as perfectly compatible with what is disdainfully called "counter-jumping" as it is admitted to be with the jumping of five-barred gates. the same caste prejudices have often kept the mass of the upper classes in ignorance of most valuable and important branches of knowledge. the poor have been ignorant, yet never proud of their ignorance; the ignorance that men are proud of belongs to caste always, not always to what we should call an aristocratic caste, but to the caste-feeling in one class or another. the pride of the feudal baron in being totally illiterate amounted to self-exclusion from all intellectual culture, and we may still find living instances of partial self-exclusion from culture, of which pride is the only motive. there are people who pass their time in what are considered amusements (that do not amuse), because it seems to them a more gentlemanly sort of life than the devotion to some great and worthy pursuit which would have given the keenest zest and relish to their whole existence (besides making them useful members of society, which they are not), but which happens to be tabooed for them by the prejudices of their caste. there are many studies, in themselves noble and useful, that a man of good family cannot follow with the earnestness and the sacrifice of time necessary to success in them, without incurring the disapprobation of his friends. if this disapprobation were visited on the breaker of caste-regulations because he neglected some other culture, there would still be something reasonable in it; but this is not the case. the caste-regulation forbids the most honorable and instructive labor when it does not forbid the most unprofitable idleness, the most utter throwing away of valuable time and faculty. tycho brahe feared to lose caste in becoming the most illustrious astronomer of his time; but he would have had no such apprehension, nor any ground for such apprehension, if instead of being impelled to noble work by a high intellectual instinct, he had been impelled by meaner passions to unlimited self-indulgence. even, in our own day these prejudices are still strong enough, or have been until very lately, to keep our upper classes in great darkness about natural knowledge of all kinds, and about its application to the arts of life. how few gentlemen have been taught to draw accurately, and how few are accurately acquainted with the great practical inventions of the age! the caste-sentiment does not, in these days, keep them ignorant of literature, but it keeps them ignorant of _things_. a friend who had a strong constructive and experimental turn, told me that, as a rule, he found gentlemen less capable of entering into his ideas than common joiners and blacksmiths, because these humble workmen, from their habit of dealing with matter, had acquired some experience of its nature. for my own part, i have often been amazed by the difficulty of making something clear to a classically educated gentleman which any intelligent mechanic would have seen to the bottom, and all round, after five or six minutes of explanation. there is a certain french nobleman whose ignorance i have frequent opportunities of fathoming, always with fresh astonishment at the depths of it, and i declare that he knows no more about the properties of stone, and timber, and metal, than if he were a cherub in the clouds of heaven! but there is something in caste-sentiment even more prejudicial to culture than ignorance itself, and that is the affectation of strong preferences for certain branches of knowledge in which people are not seriously interested. there is nothing which people will not pretend to like, if a liking for it is supposed to be one of the marks and indications of gentility. there has been an immense amount of this kind of affectation in regard to classical scholarship, and we know for a certainty that it _is_ affectation whenever people are loud in their praise of classical authors whom they never take the trouble to read. it may have happened to you, as it has happened to me from time to time, to hear men affirm the absolute necessity of classical reading to distinction of thought and manner, and yet to be aware at the same time, from close observation of their habits, that those very men entirely neglected the sources of that culture in which they professed such earnest faith. the explanation is, that as classical accomplishments are considered to be one of the evidences of gentility, whoever speaks loudly in their favor affirms that he has the tastes and preferences of a gentleman. it is like professing the fashionable religion, or belonging to an aristocratic shade of opinion in politics. i have not a doubt that all affectations of this kind are injurious to genuine culture, for genuine culture requires sincerity of interest before everything, and the fashionable affectations, so far from attracting sincere men to the departments of learning which happen to be _à la mode_, positively drive them away, just as many have become nonconformists because the established religion was considered necessary to gentility, who might have remained contented with its ordinances as a simple discipline for their souls. i dislike the interference of genteel notions in our studies for another reason. they deprive such culture as we may get from them, of one of the most precious results of culture, the enlargement of our sympathy for others. if we encourage ourselves in the pride of scholarly caste, so far as to imagine that we who have made latin verses are above comparison with all who have never exercised their ingenuity in that particular way, we are not likely to give due and serious attention to the ideas of people whom we are pleased to consider uneducated; and yet it may happen that these people are sometimes our intellectual superiors, and that their ideas concern us very closely. but this is only half the evil. the consciousness of our contempt embitters the feelings of men in other castes, and prevents them from accepting our guidance when it might be of the greatest practical utility to them. i may mention robert burns as an instance of a man of genius who would have been happier and more fortunate if he had felt no barrier of separation between himself and the culture of his time. his poetry is as good rustic poetry as the best that has come down to us from antiquity, and instead of feeling towards the poets of times past the kind of soreness which a parvenu feels towards families of ancient descent, he ought rather to have rejoiced in the consciousness that he was their true and legitimate successor, as the clergy of an authentic church feel themselves to be successors and representatives of saints and apostles who are gathered to their everlasting rest. but poor burns knew that in an age when what is called scholarship gave all who had acquired it a right to look down upon poets who had only genius as the illegitimate offspring of nature, his position had not that solidity which belonged to the scholarly caste, and the result was a perpetual uneasiness which broke out in frequent defiance. "there's ither poets, much your betters, far seen in greek, deep men o' letters, hae thought they had ensur'd their debtors a' future ages; _now moths deform in shapeless tatters, their unknown pages_." and again, in another poem-- "a set o' dull, conceited hashes confuse their brains in college classes! _they gang in stirks, and come out asses, plain truth to speak; an' syne they think to climb parnassus by dint o' greek!_" it was the influence of caste that made burns write in this way, and how unjust it was every modern reader knows. the great majority of poets have been well-educated men, and instead of ganging into college like stirks and coming out like asses, they have, as a rule, improved their poetic faculty by an acquaintance with the masterpieces of their art. yet burns is not to be blamed for this injustice; he sneered at greek because greek was the mark of a disdainful and exclusive caste, but he never sneered at french or italian. he had no soreness against culture for its own sake; it was the pride of caste that galled him. how surely the wonderful class-instinct guided the aristocracy to the kind of learning likely to be the most effectual barrier against fellowship with the mercantile classes and the people! the uselessness of greek in industry and commerce was a guarantee that those who had to earn their bread would never find time to master it, and even the strange difficult look of the alphabet (though in reality the alphabet was a gate of gossamer), ensured a degree of awful veneration for those initiated into its mysteries. then the habit our forefathers had of quoting latin and greek to keep the ignorant in their places, was a strong defensive weapon of their caste, and they used it without scruple. every year removes this passion for exclusiveness farther and farther into the past; every year makes learning of every kind less available as the armor of a class, and less to be relied upon as a means of social advancement and consideration. indeed, we have already reached a condition which is drawing back many members of the aristocracy to a state of feeling about intellectual culture resembling that of their forefathers in the middle ages. the old barbarian feeling has revived of late, a feeling which (if it were self-conscious enough) might find expression in some such words as these:-- "it is not by learning and genius that we can hold the highest place, but by the dazzling exhibition of external splendor in those costly pleasures which are the plainest evidence of our power. let us have beautiful equipages on the land, beautiful yachts upon the sea; let our recreations be public and expensive, that the people may not easily lose sight of us, and may know that there is a gulf of difference between our life and theirs. why should we toil at books that the poorest students read, we who have lordly pastimes for every month in the year? to be able to revel immensely in pleasures which those below us taste rarely or not at all, this is the best evidence of our superiority. so let us take them magnificently, like english princes and lords." even the invention of railways has produced the unforeseen result of a return in the direction of barbarism. if there is one thing which distinguishes civilization it is fixity of residence; and it is essential to the tranquil following of serious intellectual purposes that the student should remain for many months of the year in his own library or laboratory, surrounded by all his implements of culture. but there are people of the highest rank in the england of to-day whose existence is as much nomadic as that of red indians in the reserved territories of north america. you cannot ascertain their whereabouts without consulting the most recent newspaper. their life may be quite accurately described as a return, on a scale of unprecedented splendor and comfort, to the life of tribes in that stage of human development which is known as the period of the chase. they migrate from one hunting-ground to another as the diminution of the game impels them. their residences, vast and substantial as they are, serve only as tents and wigwams. the existence of a monk in the cloister, of a prisoner in a fortress, is more favorable to the intellect than theirs. and yet notwithstanding these re-appearances of the savage nature at the very summit of modern civilization, the life of a great english nobleman of to-day commands so much of what the intellectual know to be truly desirable, that it seems as if only a little firmness of resolution were needed to make all advantages his own. surrounded by every aid, and having all gates open, he sees the paths of knowledge converging towards him like railways to some rich central city. he has but to choose his route, and travel along it with the least possible hindrance from every kind of friction, in the society of the best companions, and served by the most perfectly trained attendants. might not our lords be like those brilliant peers who shone like intellectual stars around the throne of elizabeth, and our ladies like that great lady of whom said a learned italian, "che non vi aveva altra dama al mondo che la pareggiasse nella cognizione delle arti e nella notizia delle scienze e delle lingue," wherefore he called her boldly, in the enthusiasm of his admiration, "_grande anfitrite, diana nume della terra!_" letter ii. to an english democrat. the liberal and illiberal spirit of aristocracy--the desire to draw a line--substitution of external limitations for realities--the high life of nature--value of gentlemen in a state--odiousness of the narrow class-spirit--julian fane--perfect knighthood--democracies intolerant of dignity--tendency of democracies to fix one uniform type of manners--that type not a high one--a descriptive anecdote--knowledge and taste reveal themselves in manners--dr. arnold on the absence of gentlemen in france and italy--absence of a class with traditional good manners--language defiled by the vulgarity of popular taste--influence of aristocratic opinion limited, that of democratic opinion universal--want of elevation in the french _bourgeoisie_--spirit of the provincial democracy--spirit of the parisian democracy--sentiments and acts of the communards--romantic feeling towards the past--hopes for liberal culture in the democratic idea--aristocracies think too much of persons and positions--that we ought to forget persons and apply our minds to things, and phenomena, and ideas. all you say against the narrowness of the aristocratic spirit is true and to the point; but i think that you and your party are apt to confound together two states of feeling which are essentially distinct from each other. there is an illiberal spirit of aristocracy, and there is also a liberal one. the illiberal spirit does not desire to improve itself, having a full and firm belief in its own absolute perfection; its sole anxiety is to exclude others, to draw a circular line, the smaller the better, provided always that it gets inside and can keep the millions out. we see this spirit, not only in reference to birth, but in even fuller activity with regard to education and employment--in the preference for certain schools and colleges, for class reasons, without regard to the quality of the teaching--in the contempt for all professions but two or three, without regard to the inherent baseness or nobility of the work that has to be done in them: so that the question asked by persons of this temper is not whether a man has been well trained in his youth, but if he has been to eton and oxford; not whether he is honorably laborious in his manhood, but whether he belongs to the bar, or the army, or the church. this spirit is evil in its influence, because it substitutes external limitations for the realities of the intellect and the soul, and makes those realities themselves of no account wherever its traditions prevail. this spirit cares nothing for culture, nothing for excellence, nothing for the superiorities that make men truly great; all it cares for is to have reserved seats in the great assemblage of the world. whatever you do, in fairness and honesty, against this evil and inhuman spirit of aristocracy, the best minds of this age approve; but there is another spirit of aristocracy which does not always receive the fairest treatment at your hands, and which ought to be resolutely defended against you. there is really, in nature, such a thing as high life. there is really, in nature, a difference between the life of a gentleman who has culture, and fine bodily health, and independence, and the life of a sheffield dry-grinder who cannot have any one of these three things. it is a good and not a bad sign of the state of popular intelligence when the people does not wilfully shut its eyes to the differences of condition amongst men, and when those who have the opportunity of leading what is truly the high life accept its discipline joyfully and have a just pride in keeping themselves up to their ideal. a life of health, of sound morality, of disinterested intellectual activity, of freedom from petty cares, _is_ higher than a life of disease, and vice, and stupidity, and sordid anxiety. i maintain that it is right and wise in a nation to set before itself the highest attainable ideal of human life as the existence of the complete gentleman, and that an envious democracy, instead of rendering a service to itself, does exactly the contrary when it cannot endure and will not tolerate the presence of high-spirited gentlemen in the state. there are things in this world that it is right to hate, that we are the better for hating with all our hearts; and one of the things that i hate most, and with most reason, is the narrow class-spirit when it sets itself against the great interests of mankind. it is odious in the narrow-minded, pompous, selfish, pitiless aristocrat who thinks that the sons of the people were made by almighty god to be his lackeys and their daughters to be his mistresses; it is odious also, to the full as odious, in the narrow-minded, envious democrat who cannot bear to see any elegance of living, or grace of manner, or culture of mind above the range of his own capacity or his own purse. let me recommend to your consideration the following words, written by one young nobleman about another young nobleman, and reminding us, as we much need to be reminded, that life may be not only honest and vigorous, but also noble and beautiful. robert lytton says of julian fane-- "he was, i think, the most graceful and accomplished gentleman of the generation he adorned, and by this generation, at least, appropriate place should be reserved for the memory of a man in whose character the most universal sympathy with all the intellectual culture of his age was united to a refinement of social form, and a perfection of personal grace, which, in spite of all its intellectual culture, the age is sadly in want of. there is an artistry of life as well as of literature, and the perfect knighthood of sidney is no less precious to the world than the genius of spenser." it is just this "perfect knighthood" that an envious democracy sneers at and puts down. i do not say that all democracies are necessarily envious, but they often are so, especially when they first assert themselves, and whilst in that temper they are very willing to ostracize gentlemen, or compel them to adopt bad manners. i have some hopes that the democracies of the future may be taught by authors and artists to appreciate natural gentlemanhood; but so far as we know them hitherto they seem intolerant of dignity, and disposed to attribute it (very unjustly) to individual self-conceit. the personages most popular in democratic countries are often remarkably deficient in dignity, and liked the better for the want of it, whilst if on the positive side they can display occasional coarseness they become more popular still. then i should say, that although democratic feeling raises the lower classes and increases their self-respect, which is indeed one of the greatest imaginable benefits to a nation, it has a tendency to fix one uniform type of behavior and of thought as the sole type in conformity with what is accepted for "common sense," and that type can scarcely, in the nature of things, be a very elevated one. i have been much struck, in france, by the prevalence of what may be not inaccurately defined as the commercial traveller type, even in classes where you would scarcely expect to meet with it. one little descriptive anecdote will illustrate what i mean. having been invited to a stag-hunt in the côte d'or, i sat down to _déjeuner_ with the sportsmen in a good country-house or château (it was an old place with four towers), and in the midst of the meal in came a man smoking a cigar. after a bow to the ladies he declined to eat anything, and took a chair a little apart, but just opposite me. he resumed his hat and went on smoking with a _sans-gêne_ that rather surprised me under the circumstances. he put one arm on the side-board: the hand hung down, and i perceived that it was dirty (so was the shirt), and that the nails had edges of ebony. on his chin there was a black stubble of two days' growth. he talked very loudly, and his dress and manners were exactly those of a bagman just arrived at his inn. who and what could the man be? i learned afterwards that he had begun life as a distinguished pupil of the _ecole polytechnique_, that since then he had distinguished himself as an officer of artillery and had won the legion of honor on the field of battle, that he belonged to one of the principal families in the neighborhood, and had nearly _l._ a year from landed property. now, it may be a good thing for the roughs at the bottom of the social scale to level up to the bagman-ideal, but it does seem rather a pity (does it not?) that a born gentleman of more than common bravery and ability should level _down_ to it. and it is here that lies the principle objection to democracy from the point of view of culture, that its notion of life and manners is a uniform notion, not admitting much variety of classes, and not allowing the high development of graceful and accomplished humanity in any class which an aristocracy does at least encourage in one class, though it may be numerically a small class. i have not forgotten what saint-simon and la bruyère have testified about the ignorance of the old noblesse. saint-simon said that they were fit for nothing but fighting, and only qualified for promotion even in the army by seniority; that the rest of their time was passed in "the most deadly uselessness, the consequence of their indolence and distaste for all instruction." i am sure that my modern artillery captain, notwithstanding his bad manners, _knew_ more than any of his forefathers; but where was his "perfect knighthood?" and we easily forget "how much talent runs into manners," as emerson says. from the artistic and poetical point of view, behavior is an expression of knowledge and taste and feeling in combination, as clear and legible as literature or painting, so that when the behavior is coarse and unbecoming we know that the perceptions cannot be delicate, whatever may have been learned at school. when dr. arnold travelled on the continent, nothing struck him more than the absence of gentlemen. "we see no gentlemen anywhere," he writes from italy. from france he writes: "again i have been struck with the total absence of all gentlemen, and of all persons of the education and feelings of gentlemen." now, although dr. arnold spoke merely from the experience of a tourist, and was perhaps not quite competent to judge of frenchmen and italians otherwise than from externals, still there was much truth in his observation. it was not quite absolutely true. i have known two or three italian officers, and one savoyard nobleman, and a frenchman here and there, who were as perfect gentlemen as any to be found in england, but they were isolated like poets, and were in fact poets in behavior and self discipline. the plain truth is, that there is no distinct class in france maintaining good manners as a tradition common to all its members; and this seems to be the inevitable defect of a democracy. it may be observed, further, that language itself is defiled by the vulgarity of the popular taste; that expressions are used continually, even by the upper middle class, which it is impossible to print, and which are too grossly indecent to find a place even in the dictionaries; that respectable men, having become insensible to the meaning of these expressions from hearing them used without intention, employ them constantly from habit, as they decorate their speech with oaths, whilst only purists refrain from them altogether. an aristocracy may be very narrow and intolerant, but it can only exclude from its own pale, whereas when a democracy is intolerant it excludes from all human intercourse. our own aristocracy, as a class, rejects dissenters, and artists, and men of science, but they flourish quite happily outside of it. now try to picture to yourself a great democracy having the same prejudices, who could get out of the democracy? all aristocracies are intolerant with reference, i will not say to religion, but, more accurately, with reference to the outward forms of religion, and yet this aristocratic intolerance has not prevented the development of religious liberty, because the lower classes were not strictly bound by the customs of the nobility and gentry. the unwritten law appears to be that members of an aristocracy shall conform either to what is actually the state church or to what has been the state church at some former period of the national history. although england is a protestant country, an english gentleman does not lose caste when he joins the roman catholic communion; but he loses caste when he becomes a dissenter. the influence of this caste-law in keeping the upper classes within the churches of england and of rome has no doubt been very considerable, but its influence on the nation generally has been incomparably less considerable than that of some equally decided social rule in the entire mind of a democracy. had this rule of conformity to the religion of the state been that of the english democracy, religious liberty would have been extinguished throughout the length and breadth of england. i say that the customs and convictions of a democracy are more dangerous to intellectual liberty than those of an aristocracy, because, in matters of custom, the gentry rule only within their own park-palings, whereas the people, when power resides with them, rule wherever the breezes blow. a democracy that dislikes refinement and good manners can drive men of culture into solitude, and make morbid hermits of the very persons who ought to be the lights and leaders of humanity. it can cut short the traditions of good-breeding, the traditions of polite learning, the traditions of thoughtful leisure, and reduce the various national types of character to one type, that of the _commis-voyageur_. all men of refined sentiment in modern france lament the want of elevation in the _bourgeoisie_. they read nothing, they learn nothing, they think of nothing but money and the satisfaction of their appetites. there are exceptions, of course, but the tone of the class is mean and low, and devoid of natural dignity or noble aspiration. their ignorance passes belief, and is accompanied by an absolute self-satisfaction. "la fin de la bourgeoisie," says an eminent french author, "commence parcequ'elle a les sentiments de la populace. je ne vois pas qu'elle lise d'autres journaux, qu'elle se régale d'une musique différente, qu'elle ait des plaisirs plus élevés. chez l'une comme chez l'autre, c'est le même amour de l'argent, le même respect du fait accompli, le même besoin d'idoles pour les détruire, la même haine de toute supériorité, le même esprit de dénigrement, la même crasse ignorance!" m. renan also complains that during the second empire the country sank deeper and deeper into vulgarity, forgetting its past history and its noble enthusiasms. "talk to the peasant, to the socialist of the international, of france, of her past history, of her genius, he will not understand you. military honor seems madness to him; the taste for great things, the glory of the mind, are vain dreams; money spent for art and science is money thrown away foolishly. such is the provincial spirit." and if this is the provincial spirit, what is the spirit of the metropolitan democracy? is it not clearly known to us by its acts? it had the opportunity, under the commune, of showing the world how tenderly it cared for the monuments of national history, how anxious it was for the preservation of noble architecture, of great libraries, of pictures that can never be replaced. whatever may have been our illusions about the character of the parisian democracy, we know it very accurately now. to say that it is brutal would be an inadequate use of language, for the brutes are only indifferent to history and civilization, not hostile to them. so far as it is possible for us to understand the temper of that democracy, it appears to cherish an active and intense hatred for every conceivable kind of superiority, and an instinctive eagerness to abolish the past; or, as that is not possible, since the past will always _have been_ in spite of it, then at least to efface all visible memorials and destroy the bequests of all preceding generations. if any one had affirmed, before the fall of louis napoleon, that the democratic spirit was capable of setting fire to the louvre and the national archives and libraries, of deliberately planning the destruction of all those magnificent edifices, ecclesiastical and civil, which were the glory of france and the delight of europe, we should have attributed such an assertion to the exaggerations of reactionary fears. but since the year we do not speculate about the democratic temper in its intensest expression; we have seen it at work, and we know it. we know that every beautiful building, every precious manuscript and picture, has to be protected against the noxious swarm of communards as a sea-jetty against the pholas and the teredo. compare this temper with that of a marquis of hertford, a duke of devonshire, a duc de luynes! true guardians of the means of culture, these men have given splendid hospitality to the great authors and artists of past times, by keeping their works for the future with tender and reverent care. nor has this function of high stewardship ever been more nobly exercised than it is to-day by that true knight and gentleman, sir richard wallace. think of the difference between this great-hearted guardian of priceless treasures, keeping them for the people, for civilization, and a base-spirited communard setting fire to the library of the louvre. the ultra-democratic spirit is hostile to culture, from its hatred of all delicate and romantic sentiment, from its scorn of the tenderer and finer feelings of our nature, and especially from its brutish incapacity to comprehend the needs of the higher life. if it had its way we should be compelled by public opinion to cast all the records of our ancestors, and the shields they wore in battle, into the foul waters of an eternal lethe. the intolerance of the sentiment of birth, that noble sentiment which has animated so many hearts with heroism, and urged them to deeds of honor, associated as it is with a cynical disbelief in the existence of female virtue,[ ] is one of the commonest signs of this evil spirit of detraction. it is closely connected with an ungrateful indifference towards all that our forefathers have done to make civilization possible for us. now, although the intellectual spirit studies the past critically, and does not accept history as a legend is accepted by the credulous, still the intellectual spirit has a deep respect for all that is noble in the past, and would preserve the record of it forever. can you not imagine, have you not actually seen, the heir of some ancient house who shares to the full the culture and aspirations of the age in which we live, and who nevertheless preserves, with pious reverence, the towers his forefathers built on the ancestral earth, and the oaks they planted, and the shields that were carved on the tombs where the knights and their ladies rest? be sure that a right understanding of the present is compatible with a right and reverent understanding of the past, and that, although we may closely question history and tradition, no longer with childlike faith, still the spirit of true culture would never efface their vestiges. it was not michelet, not renan, not hugo, who set fire to the palace of justice and imperilled the sainte-chapelle. and yet, notwithstanding all these vices and excesses of the democratic spirit, notwithstanding the meanness of the middle classes and the violence of the mob, there is one all-powerful reason why our best hopes for the liberal culture of the intellect are centred in the democratic idea. the reason is, that aristocracies think too much of persons and positions to weigh facts and opinions justly. in an aristocratic society it is thought unbecoming to state your views in their full force in the presence of any social superior. if you state them at all you must soften them to suit the occasion, or you will be a sinner against good-breeding. observe how timid and acquiescent the ordinary englishman becomes in the presence of a lord. no right-minded person likes to be thought impudent, and where the tone of society refers everything to position, you are considered impudent when you forget your station. but what has my station to do with the truths the intellect perceives, that lie entirely outside of me? from the intellectual point of view, it is a necessary virtue to forget your station, to forget yourself entirely, and to think of the subject only, in a manner perfectly disinterested. anonymous journalism was a device to escape from that continual reference to the rank and fortune of the speaker which is an inveterate habit in all aristocratic communities. a young man without title or estate knows that he would not be listened to in the presence of his social superiors, so he holds his tongue in society and relieves himself by an article in the _times_. the anonymous newspapers and reviews are a necessity in an aristocratic community, for they are the only means of attracting attention to facts and opinions without attracting it to yourself, the only way of escaping the personal question, "who and what are you, that you venture to speak so plainly, and where is your stake in the country?" the democratic idea, by its theoretic equality amongst men, affords an almost complete relief from this impediment to intellectual conversation. the theory of equality is good, because it negatives the interference of rank and wealth in matters that appertain to the intellect or to the moral sense. it may even go one step farther with advantage, and ignore intellectual authority also. the perfection of the intellectual spirit is the entire forgetfulness of persons, in the application of the whole power of the mind to things, and phenomena, and ideas. not to mind whether the speaker is of noble or humble birth, rich or poor; this indeed is much, but we ought to attain a like indifference to the authority of the most splendid reputation. "every great advance in natural knowledge," says professor huxley, "has involved the absolute rejection of authority, the cherishing of the keenest scepticism, the annihilation of the spirit of blind faith; and the most ardent votary of science holds his firmest convictions, not because the men he most venerates hold them, not because their verity is testified by portents and wonders, but because his experience teaches him that whenever he chooses to bring these convictions into contact with their primary source, nature--whenever he thinks fit to test them by appealing to experiment and to observation--nature will confirm them." footnotes: [ ] i think it right to inform the reader that there is no fiction in this letter. [ ] the association between the two is this. if you believe that you are descended from a distinguished ancestor, you are simple enough to believe in his wife's fidelity. part ix. _society and solitude._ letter i. to a lady who doubted the reality of intellectual friendships. that intellectual friendships are in their nature temporary, when there is no basis of feeling to support them--their freshness soon disappears--danger of satiety--temporary acquaintances--succession in friendships--free communication of intellectual results--friendships between ripe and immature men--rembrandt and hoogstraten--tradition transmitted through these friendships. i heartily agree with you so far as this, that intellectual relations will not sustain friendship for very long, unless there is also some basis of feeling to sustain it. and still there is a certain reality in the friendships of the intellect whilst they last, and they are remembered gratefully for their profit when in the course of nature they have ceased. we may wisely contract them, and blamelessly dissolve them when the occasion that created them has gone by. they are like business partnerships, contracted from motives of interest, and requiring integrity above all things, with mutual respect and consideration, yet not necessarily either affection or the semblance of it. since the motive of the intellectual existence is the desire to ascertain and communicate truth, a sort of positive and negative electricity immediately establishes itself between those who want to know and those who desire to communicate their knowledge; and the connection is mutually agreeable until these two desires are satisfied. when this happens, the connection naturally ceases; but the memory of it usually leaves a permanent feeling of good-will, and a permanent disposition to render services of the same order. this, in brief, is the whole philosophy of the subject; but it may be observed farther, that the purely intellectual intercourse which often goes by the name of friendship affords excellent opportunities for the formation of real friendship, since it cannot be long continued without revealing much of the whole nature of the associates. we do not easily exhaust the mind of another, but we easily exhaust what is accessible to us in his mind; and when we have done this, the first benefit of intercourse is at an end. then comes a feeling of dulness and disappointment, which is full of the bitterest discouragement to the inexperienced. in maturer life we are so well prepared for this that it discourages us no longer. we know beforehand that the freshness of the mind that was new to us will rapidly wear away, that we shall soon assimilate the fragment of it which is all that ever can be made our own, so we enjoy the freshness whilst it lasts, and are even careful of it as a fruiterer is of the bloom upon his grapes and plums. it may seem a hard and worldly thing to say, but it appears to me that a wise man might limit his intercourse with others before there was any danger of satiety, as it is wisdom in eating to rise from table with an appetite. certainly, if the friends of our intellect live near enough for us to anticipate no permanent separation by mere distance, if we may expect to meet them frequently, to have many opportunities for a more thorough and searching exploration of their minds, it is a wise policy not to exhaust them all at once. with the chance acquaintances we make in travelling, the case is altogether different; and this is, no doubt, the reason why men are so astonishingly communicative when they never expect to see each other any more. you feel an intense curiosity about some temporary companion; you make many guesses about him; and to induce him to tell you as much as possible in the short time you are likely to be together, you win his confidence by a frankness that would perhaps considerably surprise your nearest neighbors and relations. this is due to the shortness of the opportunity; but with people who live in the same place, you will proceed much more deliberately. whoever would remain regularly provided with intellectual friends, ought to arrange a succession of friendships, as gardeners do with peas and strawberries, so that, whilst some are fully ripe, others should be ripening to replace them. this doctrine sounds like blasphemy against friendship; but it is not intended to apply to the sacred friendship of the heart, which ought to be permanent like marriage, only to the friendship of the head, which is of the utmost utility to culture, yet in its nature temporary. i know a distinguished englishman who is quite remarkable for the talent with which he arranges his intellectual friendships, so as never to be dependent on any one, but always sure of the intercourse he needs, both now and in the future. he will never be isolated, never without some fresh and living interest in humanity. it may seem to you that there is a lamentable want of faith in this; and i grant at once that a system of this kind does presuppose the extinction of the boyish belief in the permanence of human relations; still, it indicates a large-minded confidence in the value of human intercourse, an enjoyment of the present, a hope for the future, and a right appreciation of the past. nothing is more beautiful in the intellectual life than the willingness of all cultivated people--unless they happen to be accidentally soured by circumstances that have made them wretched--to communicate to others the results of all their toil. it is true that they apparently lose nothing by the process, and that a rich man who gives some portion of his material wealth exercises a greater self-denial; still, when you consider that men of culture, in teaching others, abandon something of their relative superiority, and often voluntarily incur the sacrifice of what is most precious to them, namely, their time, i think you will admit that their readiness in this kind of generosity is one of the finest characteristics of highly-developed humanity. of all intellectual friendships, none are so beautiful as those which subsist between old and ripe men and their younger brethren in science, or literature, or art. it is by these private friendships, even more than by public performance, that the tradition of sound thinking and great doing is perpetuated from age to age. hoogstraten, who was a pupil of rembrandt, asked him many questions, which the great master answered thus:--"try to put well in practice what you already know; in so doing you will, in good time, discover the hidden things which you now inquire about." that answer of rembrandt's is typical of the maturest teaching. how truly friendly it is; how full of encouragement; how kind in its admission that the younger artist _did_ already know something worth putting into practice; and yet, at the same time, how judicious in its reserve! few of us have been so exceptionally unfortunate as not to find, in our own age, some experienced friend who has helped us by precious counsel, never to be forgotten. we cannot render it in kind; but perhaps in the fulness of time it may become our noblest duty to aid another as we have ourselves been aided, and to transmit to him an invaluable treasure, the tradition of the intellectual life. letter ii. to a young gentleman who lived much in fashionable society. certain dangers to the intellectual life--difficult to resist the influences of society--gilding--fashionable education--affectations of knowledge--not easy to ascertain what people really know--value of real knowledge diminished--some good effects of affectations--their bad effect on workers--skill in amusements. the kind of life which you have been leading for the last three or four years will always be valuable to you as a past experience, but if the intellectual ambition you confess to me is quite serious, i would venture to suggest that there are certain dangers in the continuation of your present existence if altogether uninterrupted. pray do not suspect me of any narrow prejudice against human intercourse, or of any wish to make a hermit of you before your time, but believe that the few observations i have to make are grounded simply on the desire that your career should be entirely satisfactory to your own maturer judgment, when you will look back upon it after many years. an intellectual man may go into general society quite safely if only he can resist its influence upon his serious work; but such resistance is difficult in maturity and impossible in youth. the sort of influence most to be dreaded is this. society is, and must be, based upon appearances, and not upon the deepest realities. it requires some degree of reality to produce the appearance, but not a substantial reality. gilding is the perfect type of what society requires. a certain quantity of gold is necessary for the work of the gilder, but a very small quantity, and skill in applying the metal so as to cover a large surface, is of greater consequence than the weight of the metal itself. the mind of a fashionable person is a carefully gilded mind. consider fashionable education. society imperatively requires an outside knowledge of many things; not permitting the frank confession of ignorance, whilst it is yet satisfied with a degree of knowledge differing only from avowed ignorance in permitting you to be less sincere. all young ladies, whether gifted by nature with any musical talent or not, are compelled to say that they have learned to play upon the piano; all young gentlemen are compelled to affect to know latin. in the same way the public opinion of society compels its members to pretend to know and appreciate the masterpieces of literature and art. there is, in truth, so much compulsion of this kind that it is not easy to ascertain what people do really know and care about until they admit you into their confidence. the inevitable effect of these affectations is to diminish the value, in society, of genuine knowledge and accomplishment of all kinds. i know a man who is a latin scholar; he is one of the few moderns who have really learned latin; but in fashionable society this brings him no distinction, because we are all supposed to know latin, and the true scholar, when he appears, cannot be distinguished from the multitude of fashionable pretenders. i know another man who can draw; there are not many men, even amongst artists, who can draw soundly; yet in fashionable society he does not get the serious sort of respect which he deserves, because fashionable people believe that drawing is an accomplishment generally attainable by young ladies and communicable by governesses. i have no wish to insinuate that society is wrong, in requiring a certain pretence to education in various subjects, and a certain affectation of interest in masterpieces, for these pretences and affectations do serve to deliver it from the darkness of a quite absolute ignorance. a society of fashionable people who think it necessary to be able to talk superficially about the labors of men really belonging to the intellectual class, is always sure to be much better informed than a society such as that of the french peasantry, for example, where nobody is expected to know anything. it is well for society itself that it should profess a deep respect for classical learning, for the great modern poets and painters, for scientific discoverers, even though the majority of its members do not seriously care about them. the pretension itself requires a certain degree of knowledge, as gilding requires a certain quantity of gold. the evil effects of these affectations may be summed up in a sentence. they diminish the apparent value of the realities which they imitate, and they tend to weaken our enthusiasm for those great realities, and our ardor in the pursuit of them. the impression which fashionable society produces upon a student who has strength enough to resist it, is a painful sense of isolation in his earnest work. if he goes back to the work with courage undiminished, he still clearly realizes--what it would be better for him not to realize quite so clearly--the uselessness of going beyond fashionable standards, if he aims at social success. and there is still another thing to be said which concerns you just now very particularly. whoever leads the intellectual life in earnest is sure on some points to fail in strict obedience to the exigencies of fashionable life, so that, if fashionable successes are still dear to him, he will be constantly tempted to make some such reflections as the following:--"here am i, giving years and years of labor to a pursuit which brings no external reward, when half as much work would keep me abreast of the society i live with, in everything it really cares about. i know quite well all that my learning is costing me. other men outshine me easily in social pleasures and accomplishments. my skill at billiards and on the moors is evidently declining, and i cannot ride or drive so well as fellows who do very little else. in fact i am becoming an old muff, and all i have to show on the other side is a degree of scholarship which only six men in europe can appreciate, and a speciality in natural science in which my little discoveries are sure to be either anticipated or left behind." the truth is, that to succeed well in fashionable society the higher intellectual attainments are not so useful as distinguished skill in those amusements which are the real business of the fashionable world. the three things which tell best in your favor amongst young gentlemen are to be an excellent shot, to ride well to hounds, and to play billiards with great skill. i wish to say nothing against any of these accomplishments, having an especially hearty admiration and respect for all good horsemen, and considering the game of billiards the most perfectly beautiful of games; still, the fact remains that to do these things as well as some young gentlemen do them, we must devote the time which they devote, and if we regularly give nine hours a day to graver occupations, pray, how and where are we to find it? letter iii. to a young gentleman who lived much in fashionable society. some exceptional men may live alternately in different worlds--instances--differences between the fashionable and the intellectual spirit--men sometimes made unfashionable by special natural gifts--sometimes by trifling external circumstances--anecdote of ampère--he did not shine in society--his wife's anxieties about his material wants--apparent contrast between ampère and oliver goldsmith. you ask me why there should be any fundamental incompatibility between the fashionable and the intellectual lives. it seems to you that the two might possibly be reconciled, and you mention instances of men who attained intellectual distinction without deserting the fashionable world. yes, there _have_ been a few examples of men endowed with that overflow of energy which permits the most opposite pursuits, and enables its possessors to live, apparently, in two worlds between which there is not any natural affinity. a famous french novelist once took the trouble to elaborate the portrait of a lady who passed one half of her time in virtue and churches, whilst she employed the other half in the wildest adventures. in real life i may allude to a distinguished english engraver, who spent a fortnight over his plate and a fortnight in some fashionable watering-place, alternately, and who found this distribution of his time not unfavorable to the elasticity of his mind. many hard-working londoners, who fairly deserve to be considered intellectual men, pass their days in professional labor and their evenings in fashionable society. but in all instances of this kind the professional work is serious enough, and regular enough, to give a very substantial basis to the life, so that the times of recreation are kept daily subordinate by the very necessity of circumstances. if you had a profession, and were obliged to follow it in earnest six or eight hours a day, the more society amused you the better. the danger in your case is that your whole existence may take a fashionable tone. the _esprit_ or tone of fashion differs from the intellectual tone in ways which i will attempt to define. fashion is nothing more than the temporary custom of rich and idle people who make it their principal business to study the external elegance of life. this custom incessantly changes. if your habits of mind and life change with it you are a fashionable person, but if your habits of mind and life either remain permanently fixed or follow some law of your own individual nature, then you are outside of fashion. the intellectual spirit is remarkable for its independence of custom, and therefore on many occasions it will clash with the fashionable spirit. it does so most frequently in the choice of pursuits, and in the proportionate importance which the individual student will (in his own case) assign to his pursuits. the regulations of fashionable life have fixed, at the least temporarily, the degree of time and attention which a fashionable person may devote to this thing or that. the intellectual spirit ignores these regulations, and devotes its possessor, or more accurately its _possessed_, to the intellectual speciality for which he has most aptitude, often leaving him ignorant of what fashion has decided to be essential. after living the intellectual life for several years he will know too much of one thing and too little of some other things to be in conformity with the fashionable ideal. for example, the fashionable ideal of a gentleman requires classical scholarship, but it is so difficult for artists and men of science to be classical scholars also that in this respect they are likely to fall short. i knew a man who became unfashionable because he had a genius for mechanics. he was always about steam-engines, and, though a gentleman by birth, associated from choice with men who understood the science that chiefly interested him, of which all fashionable people were so profoundly ignorant that he habitually kept out of their way. he, on his part, neglected scholarship and literature and all that "artistry of life," as mr. robert lytton calls it, in which fashionable society excels. men are frequently driven into unfashionable existence by the very force and vigor of their own intellectual gifts, and sometimes by external circumstances, apparently most trifling, yet of infinite influence on human destiny. there is a good instance of this in a letter from ampère to his young wife, that "julie" who was lost to him so soon. "i went to dine yesterday at madame beauregard's with hands blackened by a harmless drug which stains the skin for three or four days. she declared that it looked like manure, and left the table, saying that she would dine when i was at a distance. i promised not to return there before my hands were white. of course i shall never enter the house again." here we have an instance of a man of science who has temporarily disqualified himself for polite society by an experiment in the pursuit of knowledge. what do you think of the vulgarity of madame beauregard? to me it appears the perfect type of that preoccupation about appearances which blinds the genteel vulgar to the true nobility of life. were not ampère's stained hands nobler than many white ones? it is not necessary for every intellectual worker to blacken his fingers with chemicals, but a kind of rust very frequently comes over him which ought to be as readily forgiven, yet rarely is forgiven. "in his relations with the world," writes the biographer of ampère, "the authority of superiority disappeared. to this the course of years brought no alternative. ampère become celebrated, laden with honorable distinctions, the great ampère! outside the speculations of the intellect, was hesitating and timid again, disquieted and troubled, and more disposed to accord his confidence to others than to himself." intellectual pursuits did not qualify ampère, they do not qualify any one, for success in fashionable society. to succeed in the world you ought to be _of_ the world, so as to share the things which interest it without too wide a deviation from the prevalent current of your thoughts. its passing interests, its temporary customs, its transient phases of sentiment and opinion, ought to be for the moment your own interests, your own feelings and opinions. a mind absorbed as ampère's was in the contemplation and elucidation of the unchangeable laws of nature, is too much fixed upon the permanent to adapt itself naturally to these ever-varying estimates. he did not easily speak the world's lighter language, he could not move with its mobility. such men forget even what they eat and what they put on; ampère's young wife was in constant anxiety, whilst the pair were separated by the severity of their fate, as to the sufficiency of his diet and the decency of his appearance. one day she writes to him to mind not to go out in his shabby old coat, and in the same letter she entreats him to purchase a bottle of wine, so that when he took no milk or broth he would find it, and when it was all drunk she tells him to buy another bottle. afterwards she asks him whether he makes a good fire, and if he has any chairs in his room. in another letter she inquires if his bed is comfortable, and in another she tells him to mind about his acids, for he has burnt holes in his blue stockings. again, she begs him to try to have a passably decent appearance, because that will give pleasure to his poor wife. he answers, to tranquillize her, that he does not burn his things now, and that he makes chemical experiments only in his old breeches with his gray coat and his waistcoat of greenish velvet. but one day he is forced to confess that she must send him new trousers if he is to appear before mm. delambre and villars. he "does not know what to do," his best breeches still smell of turpentine, and, having wished to put on trousers to go to the society of emulation, he saw the hole which barrat fancied he had mended become bigger than ever, so that it showed the piece of different cloth which he had sown under it. he adds that his wife will be afraid that he will spoil his "_beau pantalon_," but he promises to send it back to her as clean as when he received it. how different is all this from that watchful care about externals which marks the man of fashion! ampère was quite a young man then, still almost a bridegroom, yet he is already so absorbed in the intellectual life as to forget appearances utterly, except when julie, with feminine watchfulness, writes to recall them to his mind. i am not defending or advocating this carelessness. it is better to be neat and tidy than to go in holes and patches; but i desire to insist upon the radical difference between the fashionable spirit and the intellectual spirit. and this difference, which shows itself in these external things, is not less evident in the clothing or preparation of the mind. ampère's intellect, great and noble as it was, could scarcely be considered more suitable for _le grand monde_ than the breeches that smelt of turpentine, or the trousers made ragged by aquafortis. a splendid contrast, as to tailoring, was our own dear oliver goldsmith, who displayed himself in those wonderful velvet coats and satin small-clothes from mr. filby's, which are more famous than the finest garments ever worn by prince or peer. who does not remember that bloom-colored coat which the ablest painters have studiously immortalized, made by john filby, at the harrow, in water lane (best advertised of tailors!), and that charming blue velvet suit, which mr. filby was never paid for? surely a poet so splendid was fit for the career of fashion! no, oliver goldsmith's velvet and lace were the expression of a deep and painful sense of personal unfitness. they were the fine frame which is intended to pass off an awkward and imperfect picture. there was a quieter dignity in johnson's threadbare sleeves. johnson, the most influential though not the most elegant intellect of his time, is grander in his neglect of fashion than goldsmith in his ruinous subservience. and if it were permitted to me to speak of two or three great geniuses who adorn the age in which we ourselves are living, i might add that they seem to follow the example of the author of "rasselas" rather than that of mr. filby's illustrious customer. they remind me of a good old squire who, from a fine sentiment of duty, permitted the village artist to do his worst upon him, and incurred thereby this withering observation from his metropolitan tailor: "you are _covered_, sir, but you are _not_ dressed!" letter iv. to a young gentleman who lived much in fashionable society. test of professions--mobility of fashionable taste--practical service of an external deference to culture--incompatibility between fashionable and intellectual lives--what each has to offer. your polite, almost diplomatic answer to my letter about fashionable society may be not unfairly concentrated into some such paragraph as the following:-- "what grounds have i for concluding that the professed tastes and opinions of society are in any degree insincere? may not society be quite sincere in the preferences which it professes, and are not the preferences themselves almost always creditable to the good taste and really advanced culture of the society which i suspect of a certain degree of affectation?" this is the sense of your letter, and in reply to it i give you a simple but sure test. is the professed opinion carried out in practice, when there are fair opportunities for practice? let us go so far as to examine a particular instance. your friends profess to appreciate classical literature. do they read it? or, on the other hand, do they confine themselves to believing that it is a good thing for other people to read it? when i was a schoolboy, people told me that the classical authors of antiquity were eminently useful, and indeed absolutely necessary to the culture of the human mind, but i perceived that they did not read them. so i have heard many people express great respect for art and science, only they did not go so far as to master any department of art or science. if you will apply this test to the professions of what is especially called fashionable society it is probable that you will arrive at the conclusions of the minority, which i have endeavored to express. you will find that the fashionable world remains very contentedly outside the true working intellectual life, and does not really share either its labors or its aspirations. another kind of evidence, which tells in the same direction, is the mobility of fashionable taste. at one time some studies are fashionable, at another time these are neglected and others have taken their place. you will not find this fickleness in the true intellectual world, which steadily pursues all its various studies, and keeps them well abreast, century after century. if i insist upon this distinction with reference to you, do not accuse me of hostility even to fashion itself. fashion is one of the great divine institutions of human society, and the best philosophy rebels against none of the authorities that be, but studies and endeavors to explain them. the external deference which society yields to culture is practically of great service, although (i repeat the epithet) it is _external_. the sort of good effect is in the intellectual sphere what the good effect of a general religious profession is in the moral sphere. all fashionable society goes to church. fashionable religion differs from the religion of peter and paul as fashionable science differs from that of humboldt and arago, yet, notwithstanding this difference, the profession of religion is useful to society as some restraint, at least during one day out of seven, upon its inveterate tendency to live exclusively for its amusement. and if any soul happens to come into existence in the fashionable world which has the genuine religious nature, that nature has a chance of developing itself, and of finding ready to hand certain customs which are favorable to its well-being. so it is, though in quite a different direction, with the esteem which society professes for intellectual pursuits. it is an esteem in great part merely nominal, as fashionable christianity is nominal, and still it helps and favors the early development of the genuine faculty where it exists. it is certainly a great help to us that fashionable society, which has such a tremendous, such an almost irresistible power for good or evil, does not openly discourage our pursuits, but on the contrary regards them with great external deference and respect. the recognition which society has given to artists has been wanting in frankness and in promptitude, though even in this case much may be said to excuse a sort of hesitation rather than refusal which was attributable to the strangeness and novelty of the artistic caste in england; but society has far more than a generation professed a respect for literature and erudition which has helped those two branches of culture more effectually than great subsidies of money. the exact truth seems to be that society is sincere in approving our devotion to these pursuits, but is not yet sufficiently interested in them to appreciate them otherwise than from the outside, just as a father and mother applaud their boys for reading thucydides, yet do not read him themselves, either in the original or in a translation. all that i care to insist upon is that there is a degree of incompatibility between the fashionable and the intellectual lives which makes it necessary, at a certain time, to choose one or the other as our own. there is no hostility, there need not be any uncharitable feeling on one side or the other, but there must be a resolute choice between the two. if you decide for the intellectual life, you will incur a definite loss to set against your gain. your existence may have calmer and profounder satisfactions, but it will be less amusing, and even in an appreciable degree less _human_; less in harmony, i mean, with the common instincts and feelings of humanity. for the fashionable world, although decorated by habits of expense, has enjoyment for its object, and arrives at enjoyment by those methods which the experience of generations has proved to be most efficacious. variety of amusement, frequent change of scenery and society, healthy exercise, pleasant occupation of the mind without fatigue--these things do indeed make existence agreeable to human nature, and the science of living agreeably is better understood in the fashionable society of england than by laborious students and _savans_. the life led by that society is the true heaven of the natural man, who likes to have frequent feasts and a hearty appetite, who enjoys the varying spectacle of wealth, and splendor, and pleasure, who loves to watch, from the olympus of his personal ease, the curious results of labor in which he takes no part, the interesting ingenuity of the toiling world below. in exchange for these varied pleasures of the spectator the intellectual life can offer you but one satisfaction, for all its promises are reducible simply to this, that you shall come at last, after infinite labor, into contact with some great _reality_--that you shall know, and do, in such sort that you will feel yourself on firm ground and be recognized--probably not much applauded, but yet recognized--as a fellow-laborer by other knowers and doers. before you come to this, most of your present accomplishments will be abandoned by yourself as unsatisfactory and insufficient, but one or two of them will be turned to better account, and will give you after many years a tranquil self-respect, and, what is still rarer and better, a very deep and earnest reverence for the greatness which is above you. severed from the vanities of the illusory, you will live with the realities of knowledge, as one who has quitted the painted scenery of the theatre to listen by the eternal ocean or gaze at the granite hills. letter v. to a young gentleman who kept entirely out of company. that society which is frivolous in the mass contains individuals who are not frivolous--a piece of the author's early experience--those who keep out of society miss opportunities--people talk about what they have in common--that we ought to be tolerant of dulness--the loss to society if superior men all held aloof--utility of the gifted in general society--they ought not to submit to expulsion. i willingly concede all that you say against fashionable society as a whole. it is, as you say, frivolous, bent on amusement, incapable of attention sufficiently prolonged to grasp any serious subject, and liable both to confusion and inaccuracy in the ideas which it hastily forms or easily receives. you do right, assuredly, not to let it waste your most valuable hours, but i believe also that you do wrong in keeping out of it altogether. the society which seems so frivolous in masses contains individual members who, if you knew them better, would be able and willing to render you the most efficient intellectual help, and you miss this help by restricting yourself exclusively to books. nothing can replace the conversation of living men and women; not even the richest literature can replace it. many years ago i was thrown by accident amongst a certain society of englishmen who, when they were all together, never talked about anything worth talking about. their general conversations were absolutely empty and null, and i concluded, as young men so easily conclude, that those twenty or thirty gentlemen had not half a dozen ideas amongst them. a little reflection might have reminded me that my own talk was no better than theirs, and consequently that there might be others in the company who also knew more and thought more than they expressed. i found out, by accident, after awhile, that some of these men had more than common culture in various directions; one or two had travelled far, and brought home the results of much observation; one or two had read largely, and with profit; more than one had studied a science; five or six had seen a great deal of the world. it was a youthful mistake to conclude that, because their general conversation was very dull, the men were dull individually. the general conversations of english society _are_ dull; it is a national characteristic. but the men themselves are individually often very well informed, and quite capable of imparting their information to a single interested listener. the art is to be that listener. englishmen have the greatest dread of producing themselves in the semi-publicity of a general conversation, because they fear that their special topics may not be cared for by some of the persons present; but if you can get one of them into a quiet corner by himself, and humor his shyness with sufficient delicacy and tact, he will disburden his mind at last, and experience a relief in so doing. by keeping out of society altogether you miss these precious opportunities. the wise course is to mix as much with the world as may be possible without withdrawing too much time from your serious studies, but not to expect anything valuable from the general talk, which is nothing but a neutral medium in which intelligences float and move as yachts do in sea-water, and for which they ought not to be held individually responsible. the talk of society answers its purpose if it simply permits many different people to come together without clashing, and the purpose of its conventions is the avoidance of collision. in england the small talk is heavy, like water; in france it is light as air; in both countries it is a medium and no more. society talks, by preference, about amusements; it does so because when people meet for recreation they wish to relieve their minds from serious cares, and also for the practical reason that society must talk about what its members have in common, and their amusements are more in common than their work. as m. thiers recommended the republican form of government in france on the ground that it was the form which divided his countrymen least, so a polite and highly civilized society chooses for the subject of general conversation the topic which is least likely to separate the different people who are present. it almost always happens that the best topic having this recommendation is some species of amusement; since amusements are easily learnt outside the business of life, and we are all initiated into them in youth. for these reasons i think that we ought to be extremely tolerant of the dulness or frivolity which may seem to prevail in any numerous company, and not to conclude too hastily that the members of it are in any degree more dull or frivolous than ourselves. it is unfortunate, certainly, that the art of general conversation is not so successfully cultivated as it might be, and there are reasons for believing that our posterity will surpass us in this respect, because as culture increases the spirit of toleration increases with it, so that the great questions of politics and religion, in which all are interested, may be discussed more safely than they could be at the present day, by persons of different ways of thinking. but even the sort of general conversation we have now, poor as it may seem, still sufficiently serves as a medium for human intercourse, and permits us to meet on a common ground where we may select at leisure the agreeable or instructive friends that our higher intellect needs, and without whom the intellectual life is one of the ghastliest of solitudes. and now permit me to add a few observations on another aspect of this subject, which is not without its importance. let us suppose that every one of rather more than ordinary capacity and culture were to act as you yourself are acting, and withdraw entirely from general society. let us leave out of consideration for the present the loss to their private culture which would be the consequence of missing every opportunity for forming new intellectual friendships. let us consider, this time, what would be the consequence to society itself. if all the cultivated men were withdrawn from it, the general tone of society would inevitably descend much lower even than it is at present; it would sink so low that the whole national intellect would undergo a sure and inevitable deterioration. it is plainly the duty of men situated as you are, who have been endowed by nature with superior faculties, and who have enlarged them by the acquisition of knowledge, to preserve society by their presence from an evil so surely prolific of bad consequences. if society is less narrow, and selfish, and intolerant, and apathetic than it used to be, it is because they who are the salt of the earth have not disdained to mix with its grosser and earthier elements. all the improvement in public sentiment, and the advancement in general knowledge which have marked the course of recent generations, are to be attributed to the wholesome influence of men who could think and feel, and who steadily exercised, often quite obscurely, yet not the less usefully in their time and place, the subtle but powerful attraction of the greater mind over the less. instead of complaining that people are ignorant and frivolous, we ought to go amongst them and lead them to the higher life. "i know not how it is," said one in a dull circle to a more gifted friend who entered it occasionally, "when we are left to ourselves we are all lamentably stupid, but whenever you are kind enough to come amongst us we all talk very much better, and of things that are well worth talking about." the gifted man is always welcome, if only he will stoop to conquer, and forget himself to give light and heat to others. the low philistinism of many a provincial town is due mainly to the shy reserve of the one or two superior men who fancy that they cannot amalgamate with the common intellect of the place. not only would i advocate a little patient condescension, but even something of the sturdier temper which will not be driven out. are the philistines to have all the talk to themselves forever; are they to rehearse their stupid old platitudes without the least fear of contradiction? how long, o lord? how long? let us resolve that even in general society they shall not eternally have things their own way. somebody ought to have the courage to enlighten them even at their own tables, and in the protecting presence of their admiring wives and daughters. letter vi. to a friend who kindly warned the author of the bad effects of solitude. _væ solis_--society and solitude alike necessary--the use of each--in solitude we know ourselves--montaigne as a book-buyer--compensations of solitude--description of one who loved and sought it--how men are driven into solitude--cultivated people in the provinces--use of solitude as a protection for rare and delicate natures--shelley's dislike to general society--wordsworth and turner--sir isaac newton's repugnance to society--auguste comte--his systematic isolation and unshakable firmness of purpose--milton and bunyan--the solitude which is really injurious--painters and authors--an ideal division of life. you cry to me _væ solis!_ and the cry seems not the less loud and stirring that it comes in the folds of a letter. just at first it quite startled and alarmed me, and made me strangely dissatisfied with my life and work; but farther reflection has been gradually reconciling me ever since, and now i feel cheerful again, and in a humor to answer you. _woe unto him that is alone!_ this has been often said, but the studious recluse may answer, _woe unto him that is never alone and cannot bear to be alone!_ we need society, and we need solitude also, as we need summer and winter, day and night, exercise and rest. i thank heaven for a thousand pleasant and profitable conversations with acquaintances and friends; i thank heaven also, and not less gratefully, for thousands of sweet hours that have passed in solitary thought or labor, under the silent stars. society is necessary to give us our share and place in the collective life of humanity, but solitude is necessary to the maintenance of the individual life. society is to the individual what travel and commerce are to a nation; whilst solitude represents the home life of the nation, during which it develops its especial originality and genius. the life of the perfect hermit, and that of those persons who feel themselves nothing individually, and have no existence but what they receive from others, are alike imperfect lives. the perfect life is like that of a ship of war which has its own place in the fleet and can share in its strength and discipline, but can also go forth alone in the solitude of the infinite sea. we ought to belong to society, to have our place in it, and yet to be capable of a complete individual existence outside of it. which of the two is the grander, the ship in the disciplined fleet, arranged in order of battle, or the ship alone in the tempest, a thousand miles from land? the truest grandeur of the ship is neither in one nor the other, but in the capacity for both. what would that captain merit who either had not seamanship enough to work under the eye of the admiral, or else had not sufficient knowledge of navigation to be trusted out of the range of signals? i value society for the abundance of ideas that it brings before us, like carriages in a frequented street; but i value solitude for sincerity and peace, and for the better understanding of the thoughts that are truly ours. only in solitude do we learn our inmost nature and its needs. he who has lived for some great space of existence apart from the tumult of the world, has discovered the vanity of the things for which he has no natural aptitude or gift--their _relative_ vanity, i mean, their uselessness to himself, personally; and at the same time he has learned what is truly precious and good for him. surely this is knowledge of inestimable value to a man: surely it is a great thing for any one in the bewildering confusion of distracting toils and pleasures to have found out the labor that he is most fit for and the pleasures that satisfy him best. society so encourages us in affectations that it scarcely leaves us a chance of knowing our own minds; but in solitude this knowledge comes of itself, and delivers us from innumerable vanities. montaigne tells us that at one time he bought books from ostentation, but that afterwards he bought only such books as he wanted for his private reading. in the first of these conditions of mind we may observe the influence of society; in the second the effect of solitude. the man of the world does not consult his own intellectual needs, but considers the eyes of his visitors; the solitary student takes his literature as a lonely traveller takes food when he is hungry, without reference to the ordered courses of public hospitality. it is a traditional habit of mankind to see only the disadvantages of solitude, without considering its compensations; but there are great compensations, some of the greatest being negative. the lonely man is lord of his own hours and of his own purse; his days are long and unbroken, he escapes from every form of ostentation, and may live quite simply and sincerely in great calm breadths of leisure. i knew one who passed his summers in the heart of a vast forest, in a common thatched cottage with furniture of common deal, and for this retreat he quitted very gladly a rich fine house in the city. he wore nothing but old clothes, read only a few old books, without the least regard to the opinions of the learned, and did not take in a newspaper. on the wall of his habitation he inscribed with a piece of charcoal a quotation from de sénancour to this effect: "in the world a man lives in his own age; in solitude, in all the ages." i observed in him the effects of a lonely life, and he greatly aided my observations by frankly communicating his experiences. that solitude had become inexpressibly dear to him, but he admitted one evil consequence of it, which was an increasing unfitness for ordinary society, though he cherished a few tried friendships, and was grateful to those who loved him and could enter into his humor. he had acquired a horror of towns and crowds, not from nervousness, but because he felt imprisoned and impeded in his thinking, which needed the depths of the forest, the venerable trees, the communication with primæval nature, from which he drew a mysterious yet necessary nourishment for the peculiar activity of his mind. i found that his case answered very exactly to the sentence he quoted from de sénancour; he lived less in his own age than others do, but he had a fine compensation in a strangely vivid understanding of other ages. like de sénancour, he had a strong sense of the transitoriness of what is transitory, and a passionate preference for all that the human mind conceives to be relatively or absolutely permanent. this trait was very observable in his talk about the peoples of antiquity, and in the delight he took in dwelling rather upon everything which they had in common with ourselves than on those differences which are more obvious to the modern spirit. his temper was grave and earnest, but unfailingly cheerful, and entirely free from any tendency to bitterness. the habits of his life would have been most unfavorable to the development of a man of business, of a statesman, of a leader in practical enterprise, but they were certainly not unfavorable to the growth of a tranquil and comprehensive intellect, capable of "just judgment and high-hearted patriotism." he had not the spirit of the newspapers, he did not live intensely in the present, but he had the spirit which has animated great poets, and saints, and sages, and far-seeing teachers of humanity. not in vain had he lived alone with nature, not in vain had he watched in solemn twilights and witnessed many a dawn. there is, there _is_ a strength that comes to us in solitude from that shadowy, awful presence that frivolous crowds repel! solitude may be and is sometimes deliberately accepted or chosen, but far more frequently men are driven into it by nature and by fate. they go into solitude to escape the sense of isolation which is always most intolerable when there are many voices round us in loud dissonance with our sincerest thought. it is a great error to encourage in young people the love of noble culture in the hope that it may lead them more into what is called good society. high culture always isolates, always drives men out of their class and makes it more difficult for them to share naturally and easily the common class-life around them. they seek the few companions who can understand them, and when these are not to be had within any traversable distance, they sit and work alone. very possibly too, in some instances, a superior culture may compel the possessor of it to hold opinions too far in advance of the opinions prevalent around him to be patiently listened to or tolerated, and then he must either disguise them, which is always highly distasteful to a man of honor, or else submit to be treated as an enemy to human welfare. cultivated people who live in london (their true home) need never condemn themselves to solitude from this cause, but in the provinces there are many places where it is not easy for them to live sociably without a degree of reserve that is more wearisome than solitude itself. and however much pains you take to keep your culture well in the background, it always makes you rather an object of suspicion to people who have no culture. they perceive that you are reserved, they know that very much of what passes in your mind is a mystery to them, and this feeling makes them uneasy in your presence, even afraid of you, and not indisposed to find a compensation for this uncomfortable feeling in sarcasms behind your back. unless you are gifted with a truly extraordinary power of conciliating goodwill, you are not likely to get on happily, for long together, with people who feel themselves your inferiors. the very utmost skill and caution will hardly avail to hide all your modes of thought. something of your higher philosophy will escape in an unguarded moment, and give offence because it will seem foolish or incomprehensible to your audience. there is no safety for you but in a timely withdrawal, either to a society that is prepared to understand you, or else to a solitude where your intellectual superiorities will neither be a cause of irritation to others nor of vexation to yourself. like all our instincts, the instinct of solitude has its especial purpose, which appears to be the protection of rare and delicate natures from the commonplace world around them. though recluses are considered by men of the world to be doomed to inevitable incompetence, the fact is that many of them have reached the highest distinction in intellectual pursuits. if shelley had not disliked general society as he did, the originality of his own living and thinking would have been less complete; the influences of mediocre people, who, of course, are always in the majority, would have silently but surely operated to the destruction of that unequalled and personal delicacy of imagination to which we owe what is inimitable in his poetry. in the last year of his life, he said to trelawny of mary, his second wife, "she can't bear solitude, nor i society--the quick coupled with the dead." here is a piteous prayer of his to be delivered from a party that he dreaded: "mary says she will have a party! there are english singers here, the sinclairs, and she will ask them, and every one she or you know. oh the horror! for pity go to mary and intercede for me! i will submit to any other species of torture than that of being bored to death by idle ladies and gentlemen." again, he writes to mary: "my greatest delight would be utterly to desert all human society. i would retire with you and our child to a solitary island in the sea; would build a boat, and shut upon my retreat the flood-gates of the world. i would read no reviews and talk with no authors. if i dared trust my imagination it would tell me that there are one or two chosen companions beside yourself whom i should desire. but to this i would not listen; where two or three are gathered together, the devil is among them." at marlow he knew little of his neighbors. "i am not wretch enough," he said, "to tolerate an acquaintance." wordsworth and turner, if less systematic in their isolation, were still solitary workers, and much of the peculiar force and originality of their performance is due to their independence of the people about them. painters are especial sufferers from the visits of talkative people who know little or nothing of the art they talk about, and yet who have quite influence enough to disturb the painter's mind by proving to him that his noblest thoughts are surest to be misunderstood. men of science, too, find solitude favorable to their peculiar work, because it permits the concentration of their powers during long periods of time. newton had a great repugnance to society, and even to notoriety--a feeling which is different, and in men of genius more rare. no one can doubt, however, that newton's great intellectual achievements were due in some measure to this peculiarity of his temper, which permitted him to ripen them in the sustained tranquillity necessary to difficult investigations. auguste comte isolated himself not only from preference but on system, and whatever may have been the defects of his remarkable mind, and the weakness of its ultimate decay, it is certain that his amazing command over vast masses of heterogeneous material would have been incompatible with any participation in the passing interests of the world. nothing in intellectual history has ever exceeded the unshakable firmness of purpose with which he dedicated his whole being to the elaboration of the positive philosophy. he sacrificed everything to it--position, time, health, and all the amusements and opportunities of society. he found that commonplace acquaintances disturbed his work and interfered with his mastery of it, so he resolutely renounced them. others have done great things in isolation that was not of their own choosing, yet none the less fruitful for them and for mankind. it was not when milton saw most of the world, but in the forced retirement of a man who had lost health and eyesight, and whose party was hopelessly defeated, that he composed the "paradise lost." it was during tedious years of imprisonment that bunyan wrote his immortal allegory. many a genius has owed his best opportunities to poverty, because poverty had happily excluded him from society, and so preserved him from time-devouring exigencies and frivolities. the solitude which is really injurious is the severance from all who are capable of understanding us. painters say that they cannot work effectively for very long together when separated from the society of artists, and that they must return to london, or paris, or rome, to avoid an oppressive feeling of discouragement which paralyzes their productive energy. authors are more fortunate, because all cultivated people are society for them; yet even authors lose strength and agility of thought when too long deprived of a genial intellectual atmosphere. in the country you meet with cultivated individuals; but we need more than this, we need those general conversations in which every speaker is worth listening to. the life most favorable to culture would have its times of open and equal intercourse with the best minds, and also its periods of retreat. my ideal would be a house in london, not far from one or two houses that are so full of light and warmth that it is a liberal education to have entered them, and a solitary tower on some island of the hebrides, with no companions but the sea-gulls and the thundering surges of the atlantic. one such island i know well, and it is before my mind's eye, clear as a picture, whilst i am writing. it stands in the very entrance of a fine salt-water loch, rising above two hundred feet out of the water and setting its granite front steep against the western ocean. when the evenings are clear you can see staffa and iona like blue clouds between you and the sunset; and on your left, close at hand, the granite hills of mull, with ulva to the right across the narrow strait. it was the dream of my youth to build a tower there, with three or four little rooms in it, and walls as strong as a lighthouse. there have been more foolish dreams, and there have been less competent teachers than the tempests that would have roused me and the calms that would have brought me peace. if any serious thought, if any noble inspiration might have been hoped for, surely it would have been there, where only the clouds and waves were transient, but the ocean before me, and the stars above, and the mountains on either hand, were emblems and evidences of eternity. note.--there is a passage in scott's novel, "the pirate," which illustrates what has been said in this letter about the necessity for concealing superior culture in the presence of less intellectual companions, and i quote it the more willingly that scott was so remarkably free from any morbid aversion to society, and so capable of taking a sincere interest in every human being. cleveland is speaking to minna:-- "i thought over my former story, and saw that seeming more brave, skilful, and enterprising than others had gained me command and respect, and that seeming more gently nurtured and more civilized than they had made them envy and hate me as a being of another species. _i bargained with myself then, that since i could not lay aside my superiority of intellect and education, i would do my best to disguise and to sink, in the rude seaman, all appearance of better feeling and better accomplishments._" a similar policy is often quite as necessary in the society of landsmen. part x. _intellectual hygienics._ letter i. to a young author whilst he was writing his first book. mr. galton's advice to young travellers--that we ought to interest ourselves in the _progress_ of a journey--the same rule applicable in intellectual things--women in the cabin of a canal boat--working hastily for temporary purposes--fevered eagerness to get work done--beginners have rarely acquired firm intellectual habits--knowing the range of our own powers--the coolness of accomplished artists--advice given by ingres--balzac's method of work--scott, horace vernet, john phillip--decided workers are deliberate workers. i read the other day, in galton's "art of travel," a little bit which concerns you and all of us, but i made the extract in my commonplace-book for your benefit rather than my own, because the truth it contains has been "borne in upon me" by my own experience, so that what mr. galton says did not give me a new conviction, but only confirmed me in an old one. he is speaking to explorers who have not done so much in that way as he has himself, and though the subject of his advice is the conduct of an exploring party (in the wilds of australia, for example) the advice itself is equally useful if taken metaphorically, and applied to the conduct of intellectual labors and explorations of all kinds. "interest yourself," says mr. galton, "chiefly in the progress of your journey, and do not look forward to its end with eagerness. it is better to think of a return to civilization, not as an end to hardship and a haven from ill, but as a thing to be regretted, and as a close to an adventurous and pleasant life. in this way, risking less, you will insensibly creep on, making connections, and learning the capabilities of the country as you advance, which will be found invaluable in the case of a hurried or a disastrous return. and thus, when some months have passed by, you will look back with surprise on the great distance travelled over; for if you average only three miles a day, at the end of the year you will have advanced , which is a very considerable exploration. the fable of the hare and the tortoise seems expressly intended for travellers over wide and unknown tracts." yes, we ought to interest ourselves chiefly in the progress of our work, and not to look forward to its end with eagerness. that eagerness of which mr. galton speaks has spoiled many a piece of work besides a geographical exploration, and it not only spoils work, but it does worse, it spoils life also. how am i to enjoy this year as i ought, if i am continually wishing it were over? a truly intellectual philosophy must begin by recognizing the fact that the intellectual paths are infinitely long, that there will always be new horizons behind the horizon that is before us, and that we must accept a gradual advance as the law of our intellectual life. it is our business to move forwards, but we ought to do so without any greater feeling of hurry than that which affects the most stationary of minds. not a bad example for us is a bargeman's wife in a canal-boat. she moves; movement is the law of her life; yet she is as tranquil in her little cabin as any goodwife on shore, brewing her tea and preparing her buttered toast without ever thinking about getting to the end of her journey. for if that voyage were ended, another would always succeed to it, and another! in striking contrast to the unhurried bargeman's wife in her cabin is an irritable frenchman in the corner of a diligence, looking at his watch every half-hour, and wishing that the dust and rattle were over, and he were in his own easy-chair at home. those who really lead the intellectual life, and have embraced it for better and for worse, are like the bargeman's wife; but those who live the life from time to time only, for some special purpose, wishing to be rid of it as soon as that purpose is accomplished, are like the sufferer in the purgatory of the diligence. is there indeed really any true intellectual life at all when every hour of labor is spoiled by a feverish eagerness to be at the end of the projected task? you cannot take a bit out of another man's life and live it, without having lived the previous years that led up to it, without having also the assured hopes for the years that lie beyond. the attempt is constantly made by amateurs of all kinds, and by men of temporary purposes, and it always fails. the amateur says when he awakes on some fine summer morning, and draws up his blind, and looks out on the dewy fields: "ah, the world of nature is beautiful to-day: what if i were to lead the life of an artist?" and after breakfast he seeks up his old box of watercolor and his blockbook, and stool, and white umbrella, and what not, and sallies forth, and fixes himself on the edge of the forest or the banks of the amber stream. the day that he passes there looks like an artist's day, yet it is not. it has not been preceded by the three or four thousand days which ought to have led up to it; it is not strong in the assured sense of present skill, in the calm knowledge that the hours will bear good fruit. so the chances are that there will be some hurry, and fretfulness, and impatience, under the shadow of that white parasol, and also that when the day is over there will be a disappointment. you cannot put an artist's day into the life of any one but an artist. our impatiences come mainly, i think, from an amateurish doubt about our own capacity, which is accompanied by a fevered eagerness to see the work done, because we are tormented both by hopes and fears so long as it is in progress. we have fears that it may not turn out as it ought to do, and we have at the same time hopes for its success. both these causes produce eagerness, and deprive us of the tranquillity which distinguishes the thorough workman, and which is necessary to thoroughness in the work itself. now please observe that i am not advising you to set aside these hopes and fears by an effort of the will; when you have them they are the inevitable result of your state of culture, and the will can no more get rid of them than it can get rid of an organic disease. when you have a limited amount of power and of culture, and are not quite clear in your own mind as to where the limits lie, it is natural on the one hand that you should fear the insufficiency of what you possess, and on the other that in more sanguine moments you should indulge in hopes which are only extravagant because your powers have not yet been accurately measured. you will alternate between fear and hope, according to the temporary predominance of saddening or cheerful ideas, but both these feelings will urge you to complete the work in hand, that you may see your own powers reflected in it, and measure them more exactly. this is the main cause of the eagerness of young authors, and the reason why they often launch work upon the sea of publicity which is sure to go immediately to the bottom, from the unworkmanlike haste with which it has been put together. but beyond this there is another cause, which is, that beginners in literature have rarely acquired firm intellectual habits, that they do not yet lead the tranquil intellectual life, so that such a piece of work as the composition of a book keeps them in an unwholesome state of excitement. when you feel this coming upon you, pray remember mr. galton's wise traveller in unknown tracts, or the bargeman's wife in the canal-boat. amongst the many advantages of experience, one of the most valuable is that we come to know the range of our own powers, and if we are wise we keep contentedly within them. this relieves us from the malady of eagerness; we know pretty accurately beforehand what our work will be when it is done, and therefore we are not in a hurry to see it accomplished. the coolness of old hands in all departments of labor is due in part to the cooling of the temperament by age, but it is due even more to the fulness of acquired experience, for we do not find middle-aged men so cool in situations where they feel themselves incompetent. the conduct of the most experienced painters in the management of their work is a good example of this masterly coolness, because we can see them painting in their studios whereas we cannot so easily see or so justly estimate the coolness of scientific or literary workmen. a painter of great experience will have, usually, several pictures at a time upon his easels, and pass an hour upon one, or an hour upon the other, simple as the state of the pigment invites him without ever being tempted to risk anything by hurrying a process. the ugly preparatory daubing which irritates the impatience of the beginner does not disturb _his_ equanimity; he has laid it with a view to the long-foreseen result, and it satisfies him temporarily as the right thing for the time being. if you know what is the right thing for the time being, and always do it, you are sure of the calm of the thorough workman. all his touches, except the very last touch on each work, are touches of preparation, leading gradually up to his result. ingres used to counsel his pupils to sketch always, to sketch upon and within the first sketch till the picture came right in the end; and this was strictly balzac's method in literature. the literary and artistic labors of these two men did not proceed so much upon the principle of travelling as upon that of cultivation. they took an idea in the rough, as a settler takes a tract from wild nature, and then they went over it repeatedly, each time pushing the cultivation of it a little farther. scott, horace vernet, john phillip, and many others, have worked rather on the principle of travelling, passing over the ground once, and leaving it, never coming back again to correct the mistakes of yesterday. both methods of work require deliberation, but the latter needs it in the supreme degree. all very decided workers, men who did not correct, have been at the same time very deliberate workers--rapid, in the sense of accomplishing much in the course of the year, or the life, but cautious and slow and observant whilst they actually labored, thinking out very carefully every sentence before they wrote it, every touch of paint before they laid it. letter ii. to a student in the first ardor of intellectual ambition. the first freshness--why should it not be preserved?--the dulness of the intellectual--fictions and false promises--ennui in work itself--dürer's engraving of melancholy--scott about dryden--byron, shelley, wordsworth--humboldt, cuvier, goethe--tennyson's "maud"--preventives of _ennui_--hard study for limited times--the _ennui_ of jaded faculties. i have been thinking about you frequently of late, and the burden or refrain of my thoughts has been "what a blessing he has in that first freshness, if only he could keep it!" but now i am beginning more hopefully to ask myself, "why should he not keep it?" it would be an experiment worth trying, so to order your intellectual life, that however stony and thorny your path might be, however difficult and arduous, it should at all events never be dull; or, to express what i mean more accurately, that you yourself should never feel the depressing influences of dulness during the years when they are most to be dreaded. i want you to live steadily and happily in your intellectual labors, even to the natural close of existence, and my best wish for you is that you may escape a long and miserable malady which brain-workers very commonly suffer from when the first dreams of youth have been disappointed--a malady in which the intellectual desires are feeble, the intellectual hopes are few; whose victim, if he has still resolution enough to learn anything, acquires without satisfaction, and, if he has courage to create, has neither pride nor pleasure in his creations. if i were to sing the praises of knowledge as they have been so often sung by louder harps than mine, i might avoid so dreary a theme. it is easy to pretend to believe that the intellectual life is always sure to be interesting and delightful, but the truth is that, either from an unwise arrangement of their work, or from mental or physical causes which we will investigate to some extent before we have done with the subject, many men whose occupations are reputed to be amongst the most interesting have suffered terribly from _ennui_, and that not during a week or two at a time, but for consecutive years and years. there is a class of books written with the praiseworthy intention of stimulating young men to intellectual labor, in which this danger of the intellectual life is systematically ignored. it is assumed in these books that the satisfactions of intellectual labor are certain; that although it may not always, or often, result in outward and material prosperity, its inward joys will never fail. promises of this kind cannot safely be made to any one. the satisfactions of intellectual riches are not more sure than the satisfactions of material riches; the feeling of dull indifference which often so mysteriously clouds the life of the rich man in the midst of the most elaborate contrivances for his pleasure and amusement, has its exact counterpart in the lives of men who are rich in the best treasures of the mind, and who have infinite intellectual resources. however brilliant your ability, however brave and persistent your industry, however vast your knowledge, there is always this dreadful possibility of _ennui_. people tell you that work is a specific against it, but many a man has worked steadily and earnestly, and suffered terribly from _ennui_ all the time that he was working, although the labor was of his own choice, the labor that he loved best, and for which nature evidently intended him. the poets, from solomon downwards, have all of them, so far as i know, given utterance in one page or another of their writings to this feeling of dreary dissatisfaction, and albert dürer, in his "melencolia," illustrated it. it is plain that the robust female figure which has exercised the ingenuity of so many commentators is not melancholy either from weakness of the body or vacancy of the mind. she is strong and she is learned; yet, though the plumes of her wings are mighty, she sits heavily and listlessly, brooding amidst the implements of suspended labor, on the shore of a waveless sea. the truth is that dürer engraved the melancholy that he himself only too intimately knew. this is not the dulness of the ignorant and incapable, whose minds are a blank because they have no ideas, whose hands are listless for want of an occupation; it is the sadness of the most learned, the most intelligent, the most industrious; the weary misery of those who are rich in the attainments of culture, who have the keys of the chambers of knowledge, and wings to bear them to the heaven of the ideal. if you counsel this "melencolia" to work that she may be merry, she will answer that she knows the uses of labor and its vanity, and the precise amount of profit that a man hath of all his labor which he taketh under the sun. all things are full of labor, she will tell you; and in much wisdom is much grief, and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow. can we escape this brooding melancholy of the great workers--has any truly intellectual person escaped it ever? the question can never be answered with perfect certainty, because we can never quite accurately know the whole truth about the life of another. i have known several men of action, almost entirely devoid of intellectual culture, who enjoyed an unbroken flow of animal energy and were clearly free from the melancholy of dürer; but i never intimately knew a really cultivated person who had not suffered from it more or less, and the greatest sufferers were the most conscientious thinkers and students. amongst the illustrious dead, it may be very safely answered that any poet who has described it has written from his own experience--a transient experience it may be, yet his own. when walter scott, _à-propos_ of dryden, spoke of "the apparently causeless fluctuation of spirits incident to one doomed to labor incessantly in the feverish exercise of the imagination," and of that "sinking of spirit which follows violent mental exertion," is it not evident that his kindly understanding of dryden's case came from the sympathy of a fellow-laborer who knew by his own experience the gloomier and more depressing passages of the imaginative life? it would be prudent perhaps to omit the mention of byron, because some may attribute his sadness to his immorality; and if i spoke of shelley, they might answer that he was "sad because he was impious;" but the truth is, that quite independently of conduct, and even of belief, it was scarcely possible for natures so highly imaginative as these two, and so ethereally intellectual as one of the two, to escape those clouds of gloom which darken the intellectual life. wordsworth was not immoral, wordsworth was not unorthodox, yet he could be as sad in his own sober way as byron in the bitterness of his desolation, or shelley in his tenderest wailing. the three men who seem to have been the least subject to the sadness of intellectual workers were alexander humboldt, cuvier, and goethe. alexander humboldt, so far as is known to us, lived always in a clear and cheerful daylight; his appetite for learning was both strong and regular; he embraced the intellectual life in his earliest manhood, and lived in it with an unhesitating singleness of purpose, to the limits of extreme old age. cuvier was to the last a model student, of a temper at once most unflinching and most kind, happy in all his studies, happier still in his unequalled facility of mental self-direction. goethe, as all know, lived a life of unflagging interest in each of the three great branches of intellectual labor. during the whole of his long life he was interested in literature, in which he was a master; he was interested in science, in which he was a discoverer, and in art, of which he was an ardent though not practically successful student. his intellectual activity ceased only on rare occasions of painful illness or overwhelming affliction; he does not seem to have asked himself ever whether knowledge was worth its cost; he was always ready to pay the appointed price of toil. he had no infirmity of intellectual doubt; the powerful impulses from within assured him that knowledge was good for him, and he went to it urged by an unerring instinct, as a young salmon bred in the slime of a river seeks strength in the infinite sea. and yet, being a poet and a man of strong passions, goethe did not altogether escape the green-sickness which afflicts the imaginative temperament, or he could never have written "werther;" but he cured himself very soon, and the author of "werther" had no indulgence for wertherism--indeed we are told that he grew ashamed of having written the book which inoculated the younger minds of europe with that miserable disease. in our own time an illustrious poet has given in "maud" a very perfect study of a young mind in a morbid condition, a mind having indeed the student-temper, but of a bad kind, that which comes not from the genuine love of study, but from sulky rage against the world. "thanks, for the fiend best knows whether woman or man be the worse. _i will bury myself in my books_, and the devil may pipe to his own." this kind of self-burial in one's library does not come from the love of literature. the recluse will not speak to his neighbor, yet needs human intercourse of some kind, and seeks it in reading, urged by an inward necessity. he feels no gratitude towards the winners of knowledge; his morbid ill-nature depreciates the intellectual laborers:-- "the man of science himself is fonder of glory and vain; an eye well-practised in nature, a spirit bounded and poor." what is the life such a spirit will choose for itself? despising alike the ignorant and the learned, the acuteness of the cultivated and the simplicity of the poor, in what form of activity or inaction will he seek what all men need, the harmony of a life well tuned? "be mine a philosopher's life in the quiet woodland ways: where, if i cannot be gay, let a passionless peace be my lot." there are many different morbid states of the mind, and this of the hero of "maud" is only one of them, but it is the commonest amongst intellectual or semi-intellectual young men. see how he has a little fit of momentary enthusiasm (all he is capable of) about a shell that suddenly and accidentally attracts his attention. how true to the morbid nature is that incident! unable to pursue any large and systematic observation, the diseased mind is attracted to things suddenly and accidentally, sees them out of all proportion, and then falls into the inevitable fit of scornful peevishness. "what is it? a learned man could give it a clumsy name: let him name it who can." the question which concerns the world is, how this condition of the mind may be avoided. the cure mr. tennyson suggested was war; but wars, though more frequent than is desirable, are not to be had always. and in your case, my friend, it is happily not a cure but a preventive that is needed. let me recommend certain precautions which taken together are likely to keep you safe. care for the physical health in the first place, for if there is a morbid mind the bodily organs are not doing their work as they ought to do. next, for the mind itself, i would heartily recommend hard study, really hard study, taken very regularly but in very moderate quantity. the effect of it on the mind is as bracing as that of cold water on the body, but as you ought not to remain too long in the cold bath, so it is dangerous to study _hard_ more than a short time every day. do some work that is very difficult (such as reading some language that you have to puzzle out _à coups de dictionnaire_) two hours a day regularly, to brace the fighting power of the intellect, but let the rest of the day's work be easier. acquire especially, if you possibly can, the enviable faculty of getting entirely rid of your work in the intervals of it, and of taking a hearty interest in common things, in a garden, or stable, or dog-kennel, or farm. if the work pursues you--if what is called unconscious cerebration, which ought to go forward without your knowing it, becomes conscious cerebration, and bothers you, then you have been working beyond your cerebral strength, and you are not safe. an organization which was intended by nature for the intellectual life cannot be healthy and happy without a certain degree of intellectual activity. natures like those of humboldt and goethe need immense labors for their own felicity, smaller powers need less extensive labor. to all of us who have intellectual needs there is a certain supply of work necessary to perfect health. if we do less, we are in danger of that ennui which comes from want of intellectual exercise; if we do more, we may suffer from that other ennui which is due to the weariness of the jaded faculties, and this is the more terrible of the two. letter iii. to an intellectual man who desired an outlet for his energies. dissatisfaction of the intellectual when they have not an extensive influence--a consideration suggested to the author by mr. matthew arnold--each individual mind a portion of the national mind, which must rise or decline with the minds of which it is composed--influence of a townsman in his town--household influence--charities and condescendences of the highly cultivated--a suggestion of m. taine--conversation with inferiors--how to make it interesting--that we ought to be satisfied with humble results and small successes. there is a very marked tendency amongst persons of culture to feel dissatisfied with themselves and their success in life when they do not exercise some direct and visible influence over a considerable portion of the public. to put the case in a more concrete form, it may be affirmed that if an intellectual young man does not exercise influence by literature, or by oratory, or by one of the most elevated forms of art, he is apt to think that his culture and intelligence are lost upon the world, and either to blame himself for being what he considers a failure, or else (and this is more common) to find fault with the world in general for not giving him a proper chance of making his abilities tell. the facilities for obtaining culture are now so many and great, and within the reach of so many well-to-do people, that hundreds of persons become really very clever in various ways who would have remained utterly uncultivated had they lived in any previous century. a few of these distinguish themselves in literature and other pursuits which bring notoriety to the successful, but by far the greater number have to remain in positions of obscurity, often being clearly conscious that they have abilities and knowledge not much, if at all, inferior to the abilities and knowledge of some who have achieved distinction. the position of a clever man who remains obscure is, if he has ambition, rather trying to the moral fibre, but there are certain considerations which might help to give a direction to his energy and so procure him a sure relief, which reputation too frequently fails to provide. the first consideration is one which was offered to me many years ago by mr. matthew arnold, and which i can give, though from memory, very nearly in his own words. the multiplicity of things which make claim to the attention of the public is in these days such that it requires either uncommon strength of will or else the force of peculiar circumstances to make men follow any serious study to good result, and the great majority content themselves with the general enlightenment of the epoch, which they get from newspapers and reviews. hence the efforts of the intellectual produce little effect, and it requires either extraordinary talent or extraordinary fanaticism to awaken the serious interest of any considerable number of readers. yet, in spite of these discouragements, we ought to remember that our labors, if not applauded by others, may be of infinite value to ourselves, and also that beyond this gain to the individual, his culture is a gain to the nation, whether the nation formally recognizes it or not. for the intellectual life of a nation is the sum of the lives of all intellectual people belonging to it, and in this sense your culture is a gain to england, whether england counts you amongst her eminent sons, or leaves you forever obscure. is it not a noble spectacle, a spectacle well worthy of a highly civilized country, when a private citizen, with an admirable combination of patriotism and self-respect, says to himself as he labors, "i know that in a country so great as england, where there are so many able men, all that i do can count for very little in public estimation, yet i will endeavor to store my mind with knowledge and make my judgment sure, in order that the national mind of england, of which my mind is a minute fraction, may be enlightened by so much, be it never so little"? i think the same noble feeling might animate a citizen with reference to his native town; i think a good townsman might say to himself, "our folks are not much given to the cultivation of their minds, and they need a few to set them an example. i will be one of those few. i will work and think, in order that our town may not get into a state of perfect intellectual stagnation." but if the nation or the city were too vast to call forth any noble feeling of this kind, surely the family is little enough and near enough. might not a man say, "i will go through a good deal of intellectual drudgery in order that my wife and children may unconsciously get the benefit of it; i will learn facts for them that they may be accurate, and get ideas for them that they may share with me a more elevated mental state; i will do something towards raising the tone of the whole household"? the practical difficulty in all projects of this kind is that the household does not care to be intellectually elevated, and opposes the resistance of gravitation. the household has its natural intellectual level, and finds it as inevitably as water that is free. cultivated men are surrounded in their homes by a group of persons, wife, children, servants, who, in their intercourse with one another, create the household tone. what is a single individual with his books against these combined and active influences? is he to go and preach the gospel of the intellect in the kitchen? will he venture to present intellectual conclusions in the drawing-room? the kitchen has a tone of its own which all our efforts cannot elevate, and the drawing-room has its own atmosphere, an atmosphere unfavorable to severe and manly thinking. you cannot make cooks intellectual, and you must not be didactic with ladies. intellectual men always feel this difficulty, and most commonly keep their intellect very much to themselves, when they are at home. if they have not an outlet elsewhere, either in society or in literature, they grow morbid. yet, although it is useless to attempt to elevate any human being above his own intellectual level unless he gradually climbs himself as a man ascends a mountain, there are nevertheless certain charities or condescendences of the highly cultivated which may be good for the lower intelligences that surround them, as the streams from the alpine snows are good for the irrigation of the valleys, though the meadows which they water must forever remain eight or ten thousand feet below them. and i believe that it would greatly add to the happiness of the intellectual portion of mankind if they could more systematically exercise these charities. it is quite clear that we can never effect by chance conversation that total change in the mental state which is gradually brought about by the slow processes of education; we cannot give to an intellect that has never been developed, and which has fixed itself in the undeveloped state, that power and activity which come only after years of labor; but we may be able on many occasions to offer the sort of help which a gentleman offers to an old woman when he invites her to get up into the rumble behind his carriage. i knew an intellectual lady who lived habitually in the country, and i may say without fanciful exaggeration that the farmers' wives round about her were considerably superior to what in all probability they would have been without the advantage of her kindly and instructive conversation. she possessed the happy art of conveying the sort of knowledge which could be readily received by her hearers, and in a manner which made it agreeable to them, so that they drew ideas from her quite naturally, and her mind irrigated their minds, which would have remained permanently barren without that help and refreshment. it would be foolish to exaggerate the benefits of such intellectual charity as this, but it is well, on the other hand, not to undervalue it. such an influence can never convey much solid instruction, but it may convey some of its results. it may produce a more thoughtful and reasonable condition of mind, it may preserve the ignorant from some of those preposterous theories and beliefs which so easily gain currency amongst them. indirectly, it may have rather an important political influence, by disposing people to vote for the better sort of candidate. and the influence of such intellectual charity on the material well being of the humbler classes, on their health and wealth, may be quite as considerable as that of the other and more common sort of charity which passes silver from hand to hand. shortly after the termination of the great franco-german conflict, m. taine suggested in the _temps_ that subscribers to the better sort of journals might do a good deal for the enlightenment of the humbler classes by merely lending their newspapers in their neighborhood. this was a good suggestion: the best newspapers are an important intellectual propaganda; they awaken an interest in the most various subjects, and supply not only information but a stimulus. the danger to persons of higher culture that the newspaper may absorb time which would else be devoted to more systematic study, does not exist in the classes for whose benefit m. taine made his recommendation. the newspaper is their only secular reading, and without it they have no modern literature of any kind. in addition to the praiseworthy habit of lending good newspapers, an intellectual man who lives in the country might adopt the practice of conversing with his neighbors about everything in which they could be induced to take an interest, giving them some notion of what goes on in the classes which are intellectually active, some idea of such discoveries and projects as an untutored mind may partially understand. for example, there is the great tunnel under the mont cenis, and there is the projected tunnel beneath the channel, and there is the cutting of the isthmus of suez. a peasant can comprehend the greatness of these remarkable conceptions when they are properly explained to him, and he will often feel a lively gratitude for information of that kind. we ought to remember what a slow and painful operation reading is to the uneducated. merely to read the native tongue is to them a labor so irksome that they are apt to lose the sense of a paragraph in seeking for that of a sentence or an expression. as they would rather speak than have to write, so they prefer hearing to reading, and they get much more good from it, because they can ask a question when the matter has not been made clear to them. one of the best ways of interesting and instructing your intellectual inferiors is to give them an account of your travels. all people like to hear a traveller tell his own tale, and whilst he is telling it he may slip in a good deal of information about many things, and much sound doctrine. accounts of foreign countries, even when you have not seen them personally, nearly always awaken a lively interest, especially if you are able to give your hearers detailed descriptions of the life led by foreigners who occupy positions corresponding to their own. peasants can be made to take an interest in astronomy even, though you cannot tell them anything about the peasants in jupiter and mars, and there is always, at starting, the great difficulty of persuading them to trust science about the motion and rotundity of the earth. a very direct form of intellectual charity is that of gratuitous teaching, both in classes and by public lectures, open to all comers. a great deal of light has in this way been spread abroad in cities, but in country villages there is little encouragement to enterprises of this kind, the intelligence of farm laborers being less awakened than that of the corresponding urban population. let us remember, however, that one of the very highest and last achievements of the cultivated intellect is the art of conveying to the uncultivated, the untaught, the unprepared, the best and noblest knowledge which they are capable of assimilating. no one who, like the writer of these pages, has lived much in the country, and much amongst a densely ignorant peasantry, will be likely in any plans of enlightenment to err far on the side of enthusiastic hopefulness. the mind of a farm laborer, or that of a small farmer, is almost always sure to be a remarkably stiff soil, in which few intellectual conceptions can take root; yet these few may make the difference between an existence worthy of a man, and one that differs from the existence of a brute in little beyond the possession of articulate language. we to whom the rich inheritance of intellectual humanity is so familiar as to have lost much of its freshness, are liable to underrate the value of thoughts and discoveries which to us have for years seemed commonplace. it is with our intellectual as with our material wealth; we do not realize how precious some fragments of it might be to our poorer neighbors. the old clothes that we wear no longer may give comfort and confidence to a man in naked destitution; the truths which are so familiar to us that we never think about them, may raise the utterly ignorant to a sense of their human brotherhood. above all, in the exercise of our intellectual charities, let us accustom ourselves to feel satisfied with humble results and small successes; and here let me make a confession which may be of some possible use to others. when a young man, i taught a drawing-class gratuitously, beginning with thirty-six pupils, who dwindled gradually to eleven. soon afterwards i gave up the work from dissatisfaction, on account of the meagre attendance. this was very wrong--the eleven were worth the thirty-six; and so long as one of the eleven remained i ought to have contentedly taught him. the success of a teacher is not to be measured by the numbers whom he immediately influences. it is enough, it has been proved to be enough in more than one remarkable instance, that a single living soul should be in unison with the soul of a master, and receive his thought by sympathy. the one disciple teaches in his turn, and the idea is propagated. letter iv. to the friend of a man of high culture who produced nothing. joubert--"not yet time," or else "the time is past"--his weakness for production--three classes of minds--a more perfect intellectual life attainable by the silent student than by authors--he may follow his own genius--saving of time effected by abstinence from writing--the unproductive may be more influential than the prolific. when i met b. at your house last week, you whispered to me in the drawing-room that he was a man of the most remarkable attainments, who, to the great regret of all his friends, had never employed his abilities to any visible purpose. we had not time for a conversation on this subject, because b. himself immediately joined us. his talk reminded me very much of joubert--not that i ever knew joubert personally, though i have lived very near to villeneuve-sur-yonne, where joubert lived; but he is one of those characters whom it is possible to know without having seen them in the flesh. his friends used to urge him to write something, and then he said, "_pas encore._" "not yet; i need a long peace." tranquillity came, and then he said that god had only given force to his mind for a limited time, and that the time was past. therefore, as sainte-beuve observed, for joubert there was no medium; either it was not yet time, or else the time was past. nothing is more common than for _other_ people to say this of us. they often say "he is too young," as napoleon said of ingres, or else "he is too old," as napoleon said of greuze. it is more rare for a man himself to shrink from every enterprise, first under the persuasion that he is unprepared, and afterwards because the time is no longer opportune. yet there does exist a certain very peculiar class of highly-gifted, diffident, delicate, unproductive minds, which impress those around them with an almost superstitious belief in their possibilities, yet never do anything to justify that belief. but may it not be doubted whether these minds _have_ productive power of any kind? i believe that the full extent of joubert's productive power is displayed in those sentences of his which have been preserved, and which reveal a genius of the rarest delicacy, but at the same time singularly incapable of sustained intellectual effort. he said that he could only compose slowly, and with an extreme fatigue. he believed, however, that the weakness lay in the instrument alone, in the composing faculties, and not in the faculties of thought, for he said that behind his weakness there was strength, as behind the strength of some others there was weakness. in saying this, it is probable that joubert did not overestimate himself. he _had_ strength of a certain kind, or rather he had quality; he had distinction, which is a sort of strength in society and in literature. but he had no productive force, and i do not believe that his unproductiveness was a productiveness checked by a fastidious taste; i believe that it was real, that he was not organized for production. sainte-beuve said that a modern philosopher was accustomed to distinguish three classes of minds-- . those who are at once powerful and delicate, who excel as they propose, execute what they conceive, and reach the great and true beautiful--a rare _élite_ amongst mortals. . a class of minds especially characterized by their delicacy, who feel that their idea is superior to their execution, their intelligence greater than their talent, even when the talent is very real; they are easily dissatisfied with themselves, disdain easily won praises, and would rather judge, taste, and abstain from producing, than remain below their conception and themselves. or if they write it is by fragments, for themselves only, at long intervals and at rare moments. their fecundity is internal, and known to few. . lastly, there is a third class of minds more powerful and less delicate or difficult to please, who go on producing and publishing themselves without being too much dissatisfied with their work. the majority of our active painters and writers, who fill modern exhibitions, and produce the current literature of the day, belong to the last class, to which we are all greatly indebted for the daily bread of literature and art. but sainte-beuve believed that joubert belonged to the second class, and i suspect that both sainte-beuve and many others have credited that class with a potential productiveness beyond its real endowments. minds of the joubert class are admirable and valuable in their way, but they are really, and not apparently, sterile. and why would we have it otherwise? when we lament that a man of culture has "done nothing," as we say, we mean that he has not written books. is it necessary, is it desirable, that every cultivated person should write books? on the contrary, it seems that a more perfect intellectual life may be attained by the silent student than by authors. the writer for the public is often so far its slave that he is compelled by necessity or induced by the desire for success (since it is humiliating to write unsaleable books as well as unprofitable) to deviate from his true path, to leave the subjects that most interest him for other subjects which interest him less, and therefore to acquire knowledge rather as a matter of business than as a labor of love. but the student who never publishes, and does not intend to publish, may follow his own genius and take the knowledge which belongs to him by natural affinity. add to this the immense saving of time effected by abstinence from writing. whilst the writer is polishing his periods, and giving hours to the artistic exigencies of mere form, the reader is adding to his knowledge. thackeray said that writers were not great readers, because they had not the time. the most studious frenchman i ever met with used to say that he so hated the pen as scarcely to resolve to write a letter. he reminded me of joubert in this; he often said, "j'ai horreur de la plume." since he had no profession his leisure was unlimited, and he employed it in educating himself without any other purpose than this, the highest purpose of all, to become a cultivated man. the very prevalent idea that lives of this kind are failures unless they leave some visible achievement as a testimony and justification of their labors, is based upon a narrow conception both of duty and of utility. men of this unproductive class are sure to influence their immediate neighborhood by the example of their life. isolated as they are too frequently in the provinces, in the midst of populations destitute of the higher culture, they often establish the notion of it notwithstanding the contemptuous estimates of the practical people around them. a single intellectual life, thus modestly lived through in the obscurity of a country-town, may leave a tradition and become an enduring influence. in this, as in all things, let us trust the arrangements of nature. if men are at the same time constitutionally studious and constitutionally unproductive, in must be that production is not the only use of study. joubert was right in keeping silence when he felt no impulses to speak, right also in saying the little that he did say without a superfluous word. his mind is more fully known, and more influential, than many which are abundantly productive. letter v. to a student who felt hurried and driven. some intellectual products possible only in excitement--byron's authority on the subject--can inventive minds work regularly?--sir walter scott's opinion--napoleon on the winning of victories--the prosaic business of men of genius--"waiting for inspiration"--rembrandt's advice to a young painter--culture necessary to inspiration itself--byron, keats, morris--men of genius may be regular as students. in my last letter to you on quiet regularity of work, i did not give much consideration to another matter which, in certain kinds of work, has to be taken into account, for i preferred to make that the subject of a separate letter. there are certain intellectual products which are only possible in hours or minutes of great cerebral excitement. byron said that when people were surprised to find poets very much like others in the ordinary intercourse of life, their surprise was due to ignorance of this. if people knew, byron said, that poetical production came from an excitement which from its intensity could only be temporary, they would not expect poets to be very different from other people when not under the influence of this excitement. now, we may take the word "poet," in this connection, in the very largest sense. all men who have the gift of invention are poets. the inventive ideas come to them at unforeseen moments, and have to be seized when they come, so that the true inventor works sometimes with vertiginous rapidity, and afterwards remains for days or weeks without exercising the inventive faculty at all. the question is, can you make an inventive mind work on the principle of measured and regular advance. is such counsel as that in my former letter applicable to inventors? scott said, that although he had known many men of ordinary abilities who were capable of perfect regularity in their habits, he had never known a man of genius who was so. the popular impression concerning men of genius is very strong in the same sense, but it is well not to attach too much importance to popular impressions concerning men of genius, for the obvious reason that such men come very little under popular observation. when they work it is usually in the most perfect solitude, and even people who live in the same house know very little, really, of their intellectual habits. the truth seems to be, first, that the moments of high excitement, of noblest invention, are rare, and not to be commanded by the will; but, on the other hand, that in order to make the gift of invention produce its full effect in any department of human effort, vast labors of preparation are necessary, and these labors may be pursued as steadily as you like napoleon i. used to say that battles were won by the sudden flashing of an idea through the brain of the commander at a certain critical instant. the capacity for generating this sudden electric spark was military genius. the spark flashed independently of the will; the general could not win that vivid illumination by labor or by prayer; it came only in the brain of genius from the intense anxiety and excitement of the actual conflict. napoleon seems always to have counted upon it, always to have believed that when the critical instant arrived the wild confusion of the battle-field would be illuminated for him by that burst of sudden flame. but if napoleon had been ignorant of the prosaic business of his profession, to which he attended more closely than any other commander, what would these moments of supreme clearness have availed him, or would they ever have come to him at all? if they had come to him, they would have revealed only the extent of his own negligence. instead of showing him _what to do_, they would have made painfully evident what _ought to have been done_. but it is more probable that these clear moments would never have occurred to a mind unprepared by study. clear military inspirations never occur to shopkeepers and farmers, as bright ideas about checkmates occur only to persons who have studied chess. the prosaic business, then, of the man of genius is to accumulate that preparatory knowledge without which his genius can never be available, and he can do work of this kind as regularly as he likes. the one fatal mistake which is committed habitually by people who have the scarcely desirable gift of half-genius is "waiting for inspiration." they pass week after week in a state of indolence, unprofitable alike to the mind and the purse, under pretext of waiting for intellectual flashes like those which came to napoleon on his battle-fields. they ought to remember the advice given by one of the greatest artists of the seventeenth century to a young painter of his acquaintance. "practise assiduously what you already know, and in course of time other things will become clear to you." the inspirations come only to the disciplined; the indolent wait for them in vain. if you have genius, therefore, or believe you have, it is admitted that you cannot be perpetually in a state of intense excitement. if you were in that state without ceasing, you would go mad. you cannot be expected to write poetry in the plodding ox-pace manner advocated for intellectual work generally in my last letter. as for that good old comparison between the hare and the tortoise, it may be answered for you, simply, that you are not a tortoise, and that what is a most wise procedure for tortoises may be impracticable for you. the actual composition of poetry, especially poetry of a fiery kind, like-- "the isles of greece, the isles of greece," of byron, is to be done not when the poet will, but when he can, or rather, when he _must_. but if you are a wise genius you will feel how necessary is culture even for work of that kind. byron would not have felt any enthusiasm for the isles of greece if he had not known something of their history. the verses are an inspiration, but they could never have occurred to a quite uncultivated person, however bright his inspirations. even more obviously was the genius of keats dependent upon his culture. he did not read greek, but from translations of greek literature and from the direct study of greek art he got the sort of material that he needed. and in our own day morris has been evidently a very diligent student of many literatures. what i insist upon is, that we could not have had the real keats, the real morris, unless they had prepared themselves by culture. we see immediately that the work they have done is _their_ work, specially, that they were specially adapted for it--inspired for it, if you will. but how evident it is that the inspiration could never have produced the work, or anything like it, without labor in the accumulation of material! now, although men of genius cannot be regularly progressive in actual production, cannot write so many verses a day, regularly, as you may spin yarn, they can be very regular as students, and some of the best of them have been quite remarkable for unflinching steadiness of application in that way. the great principle recommended by mr. galton, of not looking forward eagerly to the end of your journey, but interesting yourself chiefly in the progress of it, is as applicable to the studies of men of genius as to those of more ordinary persons. letter vi. to an ardent friend who took no rest. on some verses of goethe--man not constituted like a planet--matthew arnold's poem, "self-dependence"--poetry and prose--the wind more imitable than the stars--the stone in glen croe--rest and be thankful. "rambling over the wild moors, with thoughts oftentimes as wild and dreary as those moors, the young carlyle, who had been cheered through his struggling sadness, and strengthened for the part he was to play in life, by the beauty and the wisdom which goethe had revealed to him, suddenly conceived the idea that it would be a pleasant and a fitting thing if some of the few admirers in england forwarded to weimar a trifling token of their admiration. on reaching home mr. carlyle at once sketched the design of a seal to be engraved, the serpent of eternity encircling a star, with the words _ohne hast, ohne rast_ (unhasting, unresting), in allusion to the well-known verses-- 'wie das gestirn, ohne hast aber ohne rast drehe sich jeder um die eigne last.' (like a star, unhasting, unresting, be each one fulfilling his god-given 'hest.')"[ ] this is said so beautifully, and seems so wise, that it may easily settle down into the mind as a maxim and rule of life. had we been told in plain prose to take no rest, without the beautiful simile of the star, and without the wise restriction about haste, our common sense would have rebelled at once; but as both beauty and wisdom exist together in the gem-like stanza, our judgment remains silent in charmed acquiescence. let us ask ourselves, however, about this stella example, whether man is naturally so constituted as to be able to imitate it. a planet moves without haste, because it is incapable of excitement; and without rest, because it is incapable of fatigue. a planet makes no effort, and encounters no friction or resistance of any kind. man is so constituted as to feel frequently the stimulus of excitement, which immediately translates itself either into actual acceleration or into the desire for acceleration--a desire which cannot be restrained without an effort; and whatever man undertakes to do he encounters friction and resistance, which, for him, always sooner or later inevitably induce fatigue. man is neither constituted like a star nor situated like a star, and therefore it is not possible for him to exist as stars exist. you will object to this criticism that it handles a delicate little poem very roughly, and you may tell me that i am unfit to receive the wisdom of the poets, which is always uttered with a touch of oriental exaggeration. certainly goethe could never mean that a man should kill himself by labors literally incessant. goethe's own life is the best elucidation of his true meaning. the example of the star was held up to us to be followed only within the limits of our human nature, as a christian points to the example of christ. in the same spirit matthew arnold wrote his noble poem "self-dependence," in which he tells us to live like the stars and the sea:-- "ah, once more," i cried, "ye stars, ye waters, on my heart your mighty charm renew; still, still let me, as i gaze upon you, feel my soul becoming vast like you." from the intense, clear, star-sown vault of heaven, over the lit sea's unquiet way, in the rustling night-air came the answer: "wouldst thou _be_ as these are? _live_ as they. "unaffrighted by the silence round them, undistracted by the sights they see, these demand not that the things without them yield them love, amusement, sympathy." the true intention of poetical teachings like these is in the influence they have over the feelings. if a star makes me steadier in my labor, less of a victim to vain agitation, in consequence of goethe's verses; if the stars and the sea together renew more fully their mighty charm upon my heart because those stanzas of arnold have fixed themselves in my memory, the poets have done their work. but the more positive _prosateur_ has his work to do also, and you, as it seems to me, need this positive help of prose. you are living a great deal too much like a star, and not enough like a human being. you do not hasten often, but you _never_ rest, except when nature mercifully prostrates you in irresistible sleep. like the stars and the sea in arnold's poem, you do not ask surrounding things to yield you love, amusement, sympathy. the stars and the sea can do without these refreshments of the brain and heart, but you cannot. rest is necessary to recruit your intellectual forces; sympathy is necessary to prevent your whole nature from stiffening like a rotifer without moisture; love is necessary to make life beautiful for you, as the plumage of certain birds becomes splendid when they pair; and without amusement you will lose the gayety which wise men try to keep as the best legacy of youth. let your rest be perfect in its season, like the rest of waters that are still. if you will have a model for your living, take neither the stars, for they fly without ceasing, nor the ocean that ebbs and flows, nor the river that cannot stay, but rather let your life be like that of the summer air, which has times of noble energy and times of perfect peace. it fills the sails of ships upon the sea, and the miller thanks it on the breezy uplands; it works generously for the health and wealth of all men, yet it claims its hours of rest. "i have pushed the fleet, i have turned the mill, i have refreshed the city, and now, though the captain may walk impatiently on the quarter-deck, and the miller swear, and the city stink, i will stir no more until it pleases me." you have learned many things, my friend, but one thing you have _not_ learned--the art of resting. that stone in glen croe ought to have impressed its lesson on the mind of many a traveller, long before earl russell gave it a newspaper celebrity. have we not rested there together, you and i, a little in advance of the coach, which the weary horses were still slowly dragging up the tedious hill? and as we sat on the turf, and looked down the misty glen, did we not read the lesson there engraven? how good and _human_ the idea was, the idea of setting up that graven stone in the wilderness; how full of sympathy is that inscription for all the weakness and weariness of humanity! once, in the ardor of youth, there shone before me a golden star in heaven, and on the deep azure around it "_ohne hast, ohne rast_," in letters of steady flame; but now i see more frequently a plain little stone set up in the earth, with the inscription, "rest, and be thankful!" is not the stone just a little like a grave-stone, my friend? perhaps it is. but if we take rest when we require it during life, we shall not need the grave's rest quite so soon. letter vii. to an ardent friend who took no rest. the regret for lost time often a needless one--tillier's doctrine about _flânerie_--how much is gained in idle hours--sainte-beuve's conviction that whatever he did he studied the infinite book of the world and of life--harness--free play of the mind necessary--the freedom of a grain of desert-sand--the freedom of the wild bee. if we asked any intellectual workman what he would do if his life were to be lived over again, i believe the answer, whatever its form, would amount ultimately to this: "i would economize my time better." very likely if the opportunity were granted him he would do nothing of the sort; very likely he would waste his time in ways more authorized by custom, yet waste it just as extravagantly as he had done after his own original fashion; but it always seems to us as if we could use the time better if we had it over again. it seems to me in looking back over the last thirty years, that the only time really wasted has been that spent in laborious obedience to some external authority. it may be a dangerous doctrine which claude tillier expressed in an immortal sentence, but dangerous or not, it is full of intellectual truth: "le temps le mieux employé est celui que l'on perd."[ ] if what we are accustomed to consider lost time could be removed, as to its effects at least, from the sum of our existence, it is certain that we should suffer from a great intellectual impoverishment. all the best knowledge of mankind, to begin with, is acquired in hours which hard-working people consider lost hours--in hours, that is, of pleasure and recreation. deduct all that we have learnt about men in times of recreation, in clubs and smoking-rooms, on the hunting-field, on the cricket-ground, on the deck of the yacht, on the box of the drag or the dog-cart, would the residue be worth very much? would it not be a mere heap of dry bones without any warm flesh to cover them? even the education of most of us, such as it is, has been in a great measure acquired out of school, as it were; i mean outside of the acknowledged duties of our more serious existence. few englishmen past forty have studied english literature either as a college exercise or a professional preparation; they have read it privately, as an amusement. few englishmen past forty have studied modern languages, or science, or the fine arts, from any obedience to duty, but merely from taste and inclination. and even if we studied these things formally, as young men often do at the present day, it is not from the formal study that we should get the _perfume_ of the language or the art, but from idle hours in foreign lands and galleries. it is superfluous to recommend idleness to the unintellectual, but the intellectual too often undervalue it. the laborious intellect contracts a habit of strenuousness which is some times a hindrance to its best activity. "i have arrived," said sainte-beuve, "perhaps by way of secretly excusing my own idleness, perhaps by a deeper feeling of the principle that all comes to the same, at the conclusion that whatever i do or do not, working in the study at continuous labor, scattering myself in articles, spreading myself about in society, giving my time away to troublesome callers, to poor people, to _rendez-vous_, in the street, no matter to whom and to what, i cease not to do one and the same thing, to read one and the same book, the infinite book of the world and of life, that no one ever finishes, in which the wisest read farthest; i read it then at all the pages which present themselves, in broken fragments, backwards, what matters it? i never cease going on. the greater the medley, the more frequent the interruption, the more i get on with this book in which one is never beyond the middle; but the profit is to have had it open before one at all sorts of different pages." a distinguished author wrote to another author less distinguished: "you have gone through a good deal of really vigorous study, but have not _been in harness_ yet." by harness he meant discipline settled beforehand like military drill. now, the advantages of drill are evident and very generally recognized, but the advantages of intellectual _flânerie_ are not so generally recognized. for the work of the intellect to be clear and healthy, a great deal of free play of the mind is absolutely necessary. harness is good for an hour or two at a time, but the finest intellects have never _lived_ in harness. in reading any book that has much vitality you are sure to meet with many allusions and illustrations which the author hit upon, not when he was in harness, but out at grass. harness trains us to the systematic performance of our work, and increases our practical strength by regulated exercise, but it does not supply everything that is necessary to the perfect development of the mind. the truth is, that we need both the discipline of harness and the abundant nourishment of the free pasture. yet may not our freedom be the profitless, choiceless, freedom of a grain of desert-sand, carried hither and thither by the wind, gaining nothing and improving nothing, so that it does not signify where it was carried yesterday or where it may fall to-morrow, but rather the liberty of the wild bee, whose coming and going are ordered by no master, nor fixed by any premeditated regulation, yet which misses no opportunity of increase, and comes home laden in the twilight. who knows where he has wandered; who can tell over what banks and streams the hum of his wings has sounded? is anything in nature freer than he is; can anything account better for a rational use of freedom? would he do his work better if tiny harness were ingeniously contrived for him? where then would be the golden honey, and where the waxen cells? letter viii. to a friend (highly cultivated) who congratulated himself on having entirely abandoned the habit of reading newspapers. advantages in economy of time--much of what we read in newspapers is useless to our culture--the too great importance which they attach to novelty--distortion by party spirit--an instance of false presentation--gains to serenity by abstinence from newspapers--newspapers keep up our daily interest in each other--the french peasantry--the newspaper-reading americans--an instance of total abstinence from newspapers--auguste comte--a suggestion of emerson's--the work of newspaper correspondents--war correspondents--mr. stanley--m. erdan, of the _temps_. your abstinence from newspaper reading is not anew experiment in itself, though it is new in reference to your particular case, and i await its effects with interest. i shall be curious to observe the consequences, to an intellect constituted as yours is, of that total cutting off from the public interests of your own century which an abstinence from newspapers implies. it is clear that, whatever the loss may be, you have a definite gain to set against it. the time which you have hitherto given to newspapers, and which may be roughly estimated at about five hundred hours a year, is henceforth a valuable time-income to be applied to whatever purposes your best wisdom may select. when an intellectual person has contrived by the force of one simple resolution to effect so fine an economy as this, it is natural that he should congratulate himself. your feelings must be like those of an able finance minister who has found means of closing a great leak in the treasury--if any economy possible in the finances of a state could ever relatively equal that splendid stroke of time-thrift which your force of will has enabled you to effect. in those five hundred hours, which are now your own, you may acquire a science or obtain a more perfect command over one of the languages which you have studied. some department of your intellectual labors which has hitherto been unsatisfactory to you, because it was too imperfectly cultivated, may henceforth be as orderly and as fruitful as a well-kept garden. you may become thoroughly conversant with the works of more than one great author whom you have neglected, not from lack of interest, but from want of time. you may open some old chamber of the memory that has been dark and disused for many a year; you may clear the cobwebs away, and let the fresh light in, and make it habitable once again. against these gains, of which some to a man of your industry are certain, and may be counted upon, what must be our estimate of the amount of sacrifice or loss? it is clear to both of us that much of what we read in the newspapers is useless to our culture. a large proportion of newspaper-writing is occupied with speculation on what is likely to happen in the course of a few months; therefore, by waiting until the time is past, we know the event without having wasted time in speculations which could not effect it. another rather considerable fraction of newspaper matter consists of small events which have interest for the day, owing to their novelty, but which will not have the slightest permanent importance. the whole press of a newspaper-reading country, like england or america, may be actively engaged during the space of a week or a fortnight in discussing some incident which everybody will have forgotten in six months; and besides these sensational incidents, there are hundreds of less notorious ones, often fictitious, inserted simply for the temporary amusement of the reader. the greatest evil of newspapers, in their effect on the intellectual life, is the enormous importance which they are obliged to attach to mere novelty. from the intellectual point of view, it is of no consequence whether a thought occurred twenty-two centuries ago to aristotle or yesterday evening to mr. charles darwin, and it is one of the distinctive marks of the truly intellectual to be able to take a hearty interest in all truth, independently of the date of its discovery. the emphasis given by newspapers to novelty exhibits things in wrong relations, as the lantern shows you what is nearest at the cost of making the general landscape appear darker by the contrast. besides this exhibition of things in wrong relations, there is a positive distortion arising from the unscrupulousness of party, a distortion which extends far beyond the limits of the empire. an essay might be written on the distortion of english affairs in the french press, or of french affairs in the english press, by writers who are as strongly partisan in another country as in their own. "it is such a grand thing," wrote an english paris correspondent in , "for adolphus thiers, son of a poor laborer of aix, and in early life a simple journalist, to be at the head of the government of france." this is a fair specimen of the kind of false presentation which is so common in party journalism. the newspaper from which i have quoted it was strongly opposed to thiers, being in fact one of the principal organs of the english bonapartists. it is not true that thiers was the son of a poor laborer of aix. his father was a workman of marseilles, his mother belonging to a family in which neither wealth nor culture had been rare, and his mother's relatives had him educated at the lycée. the art of the journalist in bringing together the two extremes of a career remarkable for its steady ascent had for its object to produce the idea of incongruity, of sudden and unsuitable elevation. not only m. thiers, however, but every human being starts from a very small beginning, since every man begins life as a baby. it is a great rise for one baby to the presidency of the french republic; it was also a great rise for other babies who have attained the premiership of england. the question is, not what thiers may have been seventy years ago, but what he was immediately before his acceptance of the highest office of the state. he was the most trusted and the most experienced citizen, so that the last step in his career was as natural as the elevation of reynolds to the presidency of the academy. it is difficult for any one who cares for justice to read party journals without frequent irritation, and it does not signify which side the newspaper takes. men are so unfair in controversy that we best preserve the serenity of the intellect by studiously avoiding all literature that has a controversial tone. by your new rule of abstinence from newspapers you will no doubt gain almost as much in serenity as in time. to the ordinary newspaper reader there is little loss of serenity, because he reads only the newspaper that he agrees with, and however unfair it is, he is pleased by its unfairness. but the highest and best culture makes us disapprove of unfairness on our own side of the question also. we are pained by it; we feel humiliated by it; we lament its persistence and its perversity. i have said nearly all that has to be said in favor of your rule of abstinence. i have granted that the newspapers cost us much time, which, if employed for great intellectual purposes, would carry us very far; that they give disproportionate views of things by the emphasis they give to novelty, and false views by the unfairness which belongs to party. i might have added that newspaper writers give such a preponderance to politics--not political philosophy, but to the everyday work of politicians--that intellectual culture is thrown into the background, and the election of a single member of parliament is made to seem of greater national importance than the birth of a powerful idea. and yet, notwithstanding all these considerations, which are serious indeed for the intellectual, i believe that your resolution is unwise, and that you will find it to be untenable. one momentous reason more than counterbalances all these considerations put together. newspapers are to the whole civilized world what the daily house-talk is to the members of a household; they keep up our daily interest in each other, they save us from the evils of isolation. to live as a member of the great white race of men, the race that has filled europe and america, and colonized or conquered whatever other territories it has been pleased to occupy, to share from day to day its cares, its thoughts, its aspirations, it is necessary that every man should read his daily newspaper. why are the french peasants so bewildered and at sea, so out of place in the modern world? it is because they never read a newspaper. and why are the inhabitants of the united states, though scattered over a territory fourteen times the area of france, so much more capable of concerted political action, so much more _alive_ and modern, so much more interested in new discoveries of all kinds and capable of selecting and utilizing the best of them? it is because the newspaper penetrates everywhere; and even the lonely dweller on the prairie or in the forest is not intellectually isolated from the great currents of public life which flow through the telegraph and the press. the experiment of doing without newspapers has been tried by a whole class, the french peasantry, with the consequences that we know, and it has also from time to time been tried by single individuals belonging to more enlightened sections of society. let us take one instance, and let us note what appear to have been the effects of this abstinence. auguste comte abstained from newspapers as a teetotaller abstains from spirituous liquors. now, auguste comte possessed a gift of nature which, though common in minor degrees, is in the degree in which he possessed it rarer than enormous diamonds. that gift was the power of dealing with abstract intellectual conceptions, and living amidst them always, as the practical mind lives in and deals with material things. and it happened in comte's case, as it usually does happen in cases of very peculiar endowment, that the gift was accompanied by the instincts necessary to its perfect development and to its preservation. comte instinctively avoided the conversation of ordinary people, because he felt it to be injurious to the perfect exercise of his faculty, and for the same reason he would not read newspapers. in imposing upon himself these privations he acted like a very eminent living etcher, who, having the gift of an extraordinary delicacy of hand, preserves it by abstinence from everything that may effect the steadiness of the nerves. there is a certain difference, however, between the two cases which i am anxious to accentuate. the etcher runs no risk of any kind by his rule of abstinence. he refrains from several common indulgences, but he denies himself nothing that is necessary to health. i may even go farther, and say that the rules which he observes for the sake of perfection in his art, might be observed with advantage by many who are not artists, for the sake of their own tranquillity, without the loss of anything but pleasure. the rules which comte made for himself involved, on the other hand, a great peril. in detaching himself so completely from the interests and ways of thinking of ordinary men, he elaborated, indeed, the conceptions of the positive philosophy, but arrived afterwards at a peculiar kind of intellectual decadence from which it is possible--probable even--that the rough common sense of the newspapers might have preserved him. they would have saved him, i seriously believe, from that mysticism which led to the invention of a religion far surpassing in unreasonableness the least rational of the creeds of tradition. it is scarcely imaginable, except on the supposition of actual insanity, that any regular reader of the _times_, the _temps_, the _daily news_, and the _saturday review_, should believe the human race to be capable of receiving as the religion of its maturity the comtist trinity and the comtist virgin mother. a trinity consisting of the great being (or humanity), the great fetish (or the earth), and the great midst (or space); a hope for the human race (how unphysiological!) that women might ultimately arrive at maternity independently of virile help,--these are conceptions so remote, not only from the habits of modern thought, but (what is more important) from its tendencies, that they could not occur to a mind in regular communication with its contemporaries. "if you should transfer the amount of your reading day by day from the newspaper to the standard authors?" to this suggestion of emerson's it may be answered that the loss would be greater than the gain. the writers of queen anne's time could educate an englishman of queen anne's time, but they can only partially educate an englishman of queen victoria's time. the mind is like a merchant's ledger, it requires to be continually posted up to the latest date. even the last telegram may have upset some venerable theory that has been received as infallible for ages. in times when great historical events are passing before our eyes, the journalist is to future historians what the african traveller is to the map-makers. his work is neither complete nor orderly, but it is the fresh record of an eye-witness, and enables us to become ourselves spectators of the mighty drama of the world. never was this service so well rendered as it is now, by correspondents who achieve heroic feats of bodily and mental prowess, exposing themselves to the greatest dangers, and writing much and well in circumstances the most unfavorable to literary composition. how vividly the english war correspondents brought before us the reality of the great conflict between germany and france! what a romantic achievement, worthy to be sung in heroic verse, was the finding of livingstone by stanley! not less interesting have been the admirable series of letters by m. erdan in the _temps_, in which, with the firmness of a master-hand, he has painted from the life, week after week, year after year, the decline and fall of the temporal power of the papacy. i cannot think that any page of roman history is better worth reading than his letters, more interesting, instructive, lively, or authentic. yet with your contempt for newspapers you would lose all this profitable entertainment, and seek instead of it the accounts of former epochs not half so interesting as this fall of the temporal power, accounts written in most cases by men in libraries who had not seen the sovereigns they wrote about, nor talked with the people whose condition they attempted to describe. you have a respect for these accounts because they are printed in books, and bound in leather, and entitled "history," whilst you despise the direct observation of a man like erdan, because he is only a journalist, and his letters are published in a newspaper. is there not some touch of prejudice in this, some mistake, some narrowness of intellectual aristocracy? letter ix. to an author who appreciated contemporary literature. miss mitford on the selfishness of authors--a suggestion of emerson's--a laconic rule of his--traces of jealousy--and of a more subtle feeling--a contradiction--necessary to resist the invasion of the present--a certain equilibrium--the opposite of a pedant--the best classics not pedants, but artists. reading the other day a letter by miss mitford, i was reminded of you as the eye is reminded of green when it sees scarlet. you, whose interest in literature has ever kept pace with the time, to whom no new thing is unwelcome if only it is good, are safe from her accusations; but how many authors have deserved them! miss mitford is speaking of a certain writer who is at the same time a clergyman, and whom it is not difficult to recognize. "i never," she says, "saw him interested in the slightest degree by the work of any other author, except, indeed, one of his own followers or of his own clique, and then only as admiring or helping him. he has great kindness and great sympathy with working people, or with a dying friend, but i profess to you i am amazed at the utter selfishness of authors. i do not know one single poet who cares for any man's poetry but his own. in general they read no books except such as may be necessary to their own writings--that is to the work they happen to be about, and even then i suspect that they only read the bits that they may immediately want. you know the absolute ignorance in which wordsworth lived of all modern works; and if, out of compliment to a visitor, he thought it needful to seem to read or listen to two or three stanzas, he gave unhesitating praise to the writer himself, but took especial care not to repeat the praise where it might have done him good--utterly fair and false." there are touches of this spirit of indifference to contemporary literature in several writers and scholars whom we know. there are distinct traces of it even in published writings, though it is much more evident in private life and habit. emerson seriously suggests that "the human mind would perhaps be a gainer if all the secondary writers were lost--say, in england, all but shakespeare, milton, and bacon, through the profounder study so drawn to those wonderful minds." in the same spirit we have emerson's laconic rule, "never read any but famed books," which suggests the remark that if men had obeyed this rule from the beginning, no book could ever have acquired reputation, and nobody would ever have read anything. the idea of limiting english literature to a holy trinity of shakespeare, milton, and bacon, and voluntarily losing all other authors, seems to me the most intense expression of the spirit of aristocracy in reading. it is as if a man were to decide in his own mind that society would be the better if all persons except the three emperors were excluded from it. there is a want of reliance upon one's own judgment, and an excess of faith in the estimates of others, when we resolve to read only those books which come to us in the splendor of a recognized intellectual royalty. we read either to gain information, to have good thinking suggested to us, or to have our imagination stimulated. in the way of knowledge the best authors are always the most recent, so that bacon could not suffice. in the way of thinking, our methods have gained in precision since milton's time, and we are helped by a larger experience than his. the one thing which shakespeare and milton can do for us quite perfectly still, is to fill our imagination richly, and give it a fine stimulus. but modern writers can render us the same service. is there not a little jealousy of contemporaries in the persistence with which some authors avoid them, and even engage others to avoid them? may not there be a shade of another feeling than jealousy, a feeling more subtle in operation, the undefined apprehension that we may find, even amongst our more obscure contemporaries, merit equal to our own? so long as we restrict our reading to old books of great fame we are safe from this apprehension, for if we find admirable qualities, we know beforehand that the world has handsomely acknowledged them, and we indulge in the hope that our own admirable qualities will be recognized by posterity with equal liberality. but it creates an unpleasant feeling of uneasiness to see quantities of obscure contemporary work, done in a plain way to earn a living by men of third or fourth-rate reputation, or of no reputation at all, which in many respects would fairly sustain a comparison with our own. it is clear that an author ought to be the last person to advise the public not to read contemporary literature, since he is himself a maker of contemporary literature; and there is a direct contradiction between the invitation to read his book, which he circulates by the act of publishing, and the advice which the book contains. emerson is more safe from this obvious rejoinder when he suggests to us to transfer our reading day by day from the newspaper to the standard authors. but are these suggestions anything more than the reaction of an intellectual man against the too prevalent customs of the world? the reading practised by most people, by all who do not set before themselves intellectual culture as one of the definite aims of life, is remarkable for the regularity with which it neglects all the great authors of the past. the books provided by the circulating library, the reviews and magazines, the daily newspapers, are read whilst they are novelties, but the standard authors are left on their shelves unopened. we require a firm resolution to resist this invasion of what is new, because it flows like an unceasing river, and unless we protect our time against it by some solid embankment of unshakable rule and resolution, every nook and cranny of it will be filled and flooded. an englishman whose life was devoted to culture, but who lived in an out-of-the-way place on the continent, told me that he considered it a decided advantage to his mind to live quite outside of the english library system, because if he wanted to read a new book he had to buy it and pay heavily for carriage besides, which made him very careful in his choice. for the same reason he rejoiced that the nearest english news-room was two hundred miles from his residence. but, on the other hand, what would be the condition of a man's mind who never read anything but the classic authors? he would live in an intellectual monastery, and would not even understand the classic authors themselves, for we understand the past only by referring it to what we know in the present. it is best to preserve our minds in a state of equilibrium, and not to allow our repugnance to what we see as an evil to drive us into an evil of an opposite kind. we are too often like those little toy-fish with a bit of steel in their mouths, which children attract with a magnet. if you present the positive pole of the magnet, the fish rushes at it at once, but if you offer the negative end it retreats continually. everything relatively to our character has this positive or negative end, and we either rush to things or rush away from them. some persons are actually driven away from the most entertaining writers because they happen to be what are called classics, because pedants boast of having read them. i know a man who is exactly the opposite of a pedant, who has a horror of the charlatanism which claims social and intellectual position as the reward for having laboriously waded through those authors who are conventionally termed "classical," and this opposition to pedantry has given him an aversion to the classics themselves, which he never opens. the shallow pretence to admiration of famous writers which is current in the world is so distasteful to the love of honesty and reality which is the basis of his character, that by an unhappy association of ideas he has acquired a repugnance to the writers themselves. but such men as horace, terence, shakespeare, molière, though they have had the misfortune to be praised and commentated upon by pedants, were in their lives the precise opposite of pedants; they were _artists_ whose study was human nature, and who lived without pretension in the common world of men. the pedants have a habit of considering these genial old artists as in some mysterious way their own private property, for do not the pedants live by expounding them? and some of us are frightened away from the fairest realms of poetry by the fences of these grim guardians. letter x. to an author who kept very irregular hours. julian fane--his late hours--regularity produced by habit--the time of the principal effort--that the chief work should be done in the best hours--physicians prefer early to late work--the practice of goethe and some modern authors--the morning worker ought to live in a tranquil neighborhood--night-work--the medical objection to it--the student's objection to day-work--time to be kept in masses by adults, but divided into small portions by children--rapid turning of the mind--cuvier eminent for this faculty--the duke of wellington--the faculty more available with some occupations than others--the slavery of a minute obedience to the clock--broad rules the best--books of agenda, good in business, but not in the higher intellectual pursuits. what you told me of your habits in the employment of your hours reminded me of julian fane. mr. lytton tells us that "after a long day of professional business, followed by a late evening of social amusement, he would return in the small hours of the night to his books, and sit, unwearied, till sunrise in the study of them. nor did he then seem to suffer from this habit of late hours. his nightly vigils occasioned no appearance of fatigue the next day.... he rarely rose before noon, and generally rose much later." but however irregular a man's distribution of his time may be in the sense of wanting the government of fixed rules, there always comes in time a certain regularity by the mere operation of habit. people who get up very late hardly ever do so in obedience to a rule; many get up early by rule, and many more are told that they ought to get up early, and believe it, and aspire to that virtue, but fail to carry it into practice. the late-risers are rebels and sinners--in this respect--to a man, and so persistently have the wise, from solomon downwards, harped upon the moral loveliness of early rising and the degradation which follows the opposite practice, that one can hardly get up after eight without either an uncomfortable sense of guilt or an extraordinary callousness. yet the late-risers, though obeying no rule, for the abandoned sinner recognizes none, become regular in their late rising from the gradual fixing power of habit. even julian fane, though he regretted his desultory ways, "and dwelt with great earnestness on the importance of regular habits of work," was perhaps less irregular than he himself believed. we are sure to acquire habits; what is important is not so much that the habits should be regular, as that their regularity should be of the kind most favorable in the long run to the accomplishment of our designs, and this never comes by chance, it is the result of an effort of the will in obedience to governing wisdom. the first question which every one who has the choice of his hours must settle for himself is at what time of day he will make his principal effort; for the day of every intellectual workman ought to be marked by a kind of artistic composition; there ought to be some one labor distinctly recognized as dominant, with others in subordination, and subordination of various degrees. now for the hours at which the principal effort ought to be made, it is not possible to fix them by the clock so as to be suitable for everybody, but a broad rule may be arrived at which is applicable to all imaginable cases. the rule is this--to do the chief work in the best hours; to give it the pick of your day; and by day i do not mean only the solar day, but the whole of the twenty-four hours. there is an important physiological reason for giving the best hours to the most important work. the better the condition of the brain and the body, and the more favorable the surrounding circumstances, the smaller will be the cost to the organization of the labor that has to be done. it is always the safest way to do the heaviest (or most important) work at the time and under the conditions which make it the least costly. physicians are unanimous in their preference of early to late work; and no doubt, if the question were not complicated by other considerations, we could not do better than to follow their advice in its simplicity. goethe wrote in the morning, with his faculties refreshed by sleep and not yet excited by any stimulant. i could mention several living authors of eminence who pursue the same plan, and find it favorable alike to health and to production. the rule which they follow is never to write after lunch, leaving the rest of their time free for study and society, both of which are absolutely necessary to authors. according to this system it is presumed that the hours between breakfast and lunch are the best hours. in many cases they are so. a person in fair health, after taking a light early breakfast without any heavier stimulant than tea or coffee, finds himself in a state of freshness highly favorable to sound and agreeable thinking. his brain will be in still finer order if the breakfast has been preceded by a cold bath, with friction and a little exercise. the feeling of freshness, cleanliness, and moderate exhilaration, will last for several hours, and during those hours the intellectual work will probably be both lively and reasonable. it is difficult for a man who feels cheerful and refreshed, and whose task seems easy and light, to write anything morbid or perverse. but for the morning to be so good as i have just described it, the workman must be quite favorably situated. he ought to live in a very tranquil neighborhood, and to be as free as possible from anxiety as to what the postman may have in reserve for him. if his study-window looks out on a noisy street, and if the day is sure, as it wears on, to bring anxious business of its own, then the increasing noise and the apprehension (even though it be almost entirely unconscious) of impending business, will be quite sufficient to interfere with the work of any man who is the least in the world nervous, and almost all intellectual laborers _are_ nervous, more or less. men who have the inestimable advantage of absolute tranquillity, at all times, do well to work in the morning, but those who can only get tranquillity at times independent of their own choice have a strong reason for working at those times, whether they happen to be in the morning or not. in an excellent article on "work" (evidently written by an experienced intellectual workman), which appeared in one of the early numbers of the _cornhill magazine_, and was remarkable alike for practical wisdom and the entire absence of traditional dogmatism, the writer speaks frankly in favor of night-work, "if you can work at all at night, one hour at that time is worth any two in the morning. the house is hushed, the brain is clear, the distracting influences of the day are at an end. you have not to disturb yourself with thoughts of what you are about to do, or what you are about to suffer. you know that there is a gulf between you and the affairs of the outside world, almost like the chasm of death; and that you need not take thought of the morrow until the morrow has come. there are few really great thoughts, such as the world will not willingly let die, that have not been conceived under the quiet stars." the medical objection to night-work in the case of literary men would probably be that the night is _too_ favorable to literary production. the author of the essay just quoted says that at night "you only drift into deeper silence _and quicker inspiration_. if the right mood is upon you, _you write on_; if not, your pillow awaits you." exactly so; that is to say, the brain, owing to the complete external tranquillity, can so concentrate its efforts on the subject in hand as to work itself up into a luminous condition which is fed by the most rapid destruction of the nervous substance that ever takes place within the walls of a human skull. "if the right mood is upon you, _you write on_;" in other words, if you have once well lighted your spirit-lamp, it will go on burning so long as any spirit is left in it, for the air is so tranquil that nothing comes to blow it out. you drift into deeper silence and "quicker inspiration." it is just this quicker inspiration that the physician dreads. against this objection may be placed the equally serious objection to day-work, that every interruption, when you are particularly anxious not to be interrupted, causes a definite loss and injury to the nervous system. the choice must therefore be made between two dangers, and if they are equally balanced there can be no hesitation, because all the _literary_ interests of an author are on the side of the most tranquil time. literary work is always sure to be much better done when there is no fear of disturbance than under the apprehension of it; and precisely the same amount of cerebral effort will produce, when the work is uninterrupted, not only better writing, but a much greater quantity of writing. the knowledge that he is working well and productively is an element of health to every workman because it encourages cheerful habits of mind. in the division of time it is an excellent rule for adults to keep it as much as possible _in large masses_, not giving a quarter of an hour to one occupation and a quarter to another, but giving three, four, or five hours to one thing at a time. in the case of children an opposite practice should be followed; they are able to change their attention from one subject to another much more easily than we can, whilst at the same time they cannot fix their minds for very long without cerebral fatigue leading to temporary incapacity. the custom prevalent in schools, of making the boys learn several different things in the course of the day, is therefore founded upon the necessities of the boy-nature, though most grown men would find that changes so frequent would, for them, have all the inconveniences of interruption. to boys they come as relief, to men as interruption. the reason is that the physical condition of the brain is different in the two cases; but in our loose way of talking about these things we may say that the boy's ideas are superficial, like the plates and dishes on the surface of a dinner-table, which may be rapidly changed without inconvenience, whereas the man's ideas, having all struck root down to the very depths of his nature, are more like the plants in a garden, which cannot be removed without a temporary loss both of vigor and of beauty, and the loss cannot be instantaneously repaired. for a man to do his work thoroughly well, it is necessary that he should dwell in it long enough at a time to get all the powers of his mind fully under command with reference to the particular work in hand, and he cannot do this without tuning his whole mind to the given diapason, as a tuner tunes a piano. some men can tune their minds more rapidly, as violins are tuned, and this faculty may to a certain extent be acquired by efforts of the will very frequently repeated. cuvier had this faculty in the most eminent degree. one of his biographers says: "his extreme facility for study, and of directing all the powers of his mind to diverse occupations of study, from one quarter of an hour to another, was one of the most extraordinary qualities of his mind." the duke of wellington also cultivated the habit (inestimably valuable to a public man) of directing the whole of his attention to the subject under consideration, however frequently that subject might happen to be changed. but although men of exceptional power and very exceptional flexibility may do this with apparent impunity, that still depends very much on the nature of the occupation. there are some occupations which are not incompatible with a fragmentary division of time, because these occupations are themselves fragmentary. for example, you may study languages in phrase-books during very small spaces of time, because the complete phrase is in itself a very small thing, but you could not so easily break and resume the thread of an elaborate argument. i suspect that though cuvier appeared to his contemporaries a man remarkably able to leave off and resume his work at will, he must have taken care to do work that would bear interruption at those times when he knew himself to be most liable to it. and although, when a man's time is unavoidably broken up into fragments, no talent of a merely auxiliary kind can be more precious than that of turning each of those fragments to advantage, it is still true that he whose time is at his own disposal will do his work most calmly, most deliberately, and therefore on the whole most thoroughly and perfectly, when he keeps it in fine masses. the mere knowledge that you have three or four clear hours before you is in itself a great help to the spirit of thoroughness, both in study and in production. it is agreeable too, when the sitting has come to an end, to perceive that a definite advance is the result of it, and advance in anything is scarcely perceptible in less than three or four hours. there are several pursuits which _cannot_ be followed in fragments of time, on account of the necessary preparations. it is useless to begin oil-painting unless you have full time to set your palette properly, to get your canvas into a proper state for working upon, to pose the model as you wish, and settle down to work with everything as it ought to be. in landscape-painting from nature you require the time to go to the selected place, and after your arrival to arrange your materials and shelter yourself from the sun. in scientific pursuits the preparations are usually at least equally elaborate, and often much more so. to prepare for an experiment, or for a dissection, takes time which we feel to be disproportionate when it leaves too little for the scientific work itself. it is for this reason more frequently than for any other that amateurs who begin in enthusiasm, so commonly, after a while, abandon the objects of their pursuit. there is a kind of slavery to which no really intellectual man would ever voluntarily submit, a minute obedience to the clock. very conscientious people often impose upon themselves this sort of slavery. a person who has hampered himself with rules of this kind will take up a certain book, for instance, when the clock strikes nine, and begin at yesterday's mark, perhaps in the middle of a paragraph. then he will read with great steadiness till a quarter-past nine, and exactly on the instant when the minute-hand gets opposite the dot, he will shut his book, however much the passage may happen to interest him. it was in allusion to good people of this kind that sir walter scott said he had never known a man of genius who could be perfectly regular in his habits, whilst he had known many blockheads who could. it is easy to see that a minute obedience to the clock is unintellectual in its very nature, for the intellect is not a piece of mechanism as a clock is, and cannot easily be made to act like one. there may be perfect correspondence between the locomotives and the clocks on a railway, for if the clocks are pieces of mechanism the locomotives are so likewise, but the intellect always needs a certain looseness and latitude as to time. very broad rules are the best, such as "write in the morning, read in the afternoon, see friends in the evening," or else "study one day and produce another, alternately," or even "work one week and see the world another week, alternately." there is a fretting habit, much recommended by men of business and of great use to them, of writing the evening before the duties of the day in a book of agenda. if this is done at all by intellectual men with reference to their pursuits, it ought to be done in a very broad, loose way, never minutely. an intellectual worker ought never to make it a matter of conscience (in intellectual labor) to do a predetermined quantity of little things. this sort of conscientiousness frets and worries, and is the enemy of all serenity of thought. footnotes: [ ] lewes's "life of goethe," book vii. chap. . [ ] the best employed time is that which one loses. part xi. _trades and professions._ letter i. to a young gentleman of ability and culture who had not decided about his profession. the church--felicities and advantages of the clerical profession--its elevated ideal--that it is favorable to noble studies--french priests and english clergymen--the professional point of view--difficulty of disinterested thinking--colored light--want of strict accuracy--quotation from a sermon--the drawback to the clerical life--provisional nature of intellectual conclusions--the legal profession--that it affords gratification to the intellectual powers--want of intellectual disinterestedness in lawyers--their absorption in professional life--anecdote of a london lawyer--superiority of lawyers in their sense of affairs--medicine--the study of it a fine preparation for the intellectual life--social rise of medical men coincident with the mental progress of communities--their probable future influence on education--the heroic side of their profession--the military and naval professions--bad effect of the privation of solitude--interruption--anecdote of cuvier--the fine arts--in what way they are favorable to thought--intellectual leisure of artists--reasoning artists--sciences included in the fine arts. it may be taken for granted that to a mind constituted as yours is, no profession will be satisfactory which does not afford free play to the intellectual powers. you might no doubt exercise resolution enough to bind yourself down to uncongenial work for a term of years, but it would be with the intention of retiring as soon as you had realized a competency. the happiest life is that which constantly exercises and educates what is best in us. you had thoughts, at one time, of the church, and the church would have suited you in many respects very happily, yet not, i think, in all respects. the clerical profession has many great felicities and advantages: it educates and develops, by its mild but regular discipline, much of our higher nature; it sets before us an elevated ideal, worth striving for at the cost of every sacrifice but one, of which i intend to say something farther on; and it offers just that mixture of public and private life which best affords the alternation of activity and rest. it is an existence in many respects most favorable to the noblest studies. it offers the happiest combination of duties that satisfy the conscience with leisure for the cultivation of the mind; it gives the easiest access to all classes of society, providing for the parson himself a neutral and independent position, so safe that he need only conduct himself properly to preserve it. how superior, from the intellectual point of view, is this liberal existence to the narrower one of a french _curé de campagne_! i certainly think that if a good _curé_ has an exceptional genius for sanctity, his chances of becoming a perfect saint are better than those of a comfortable english incumbent, who is at the same time a gentleman and man of the world, but he is not nearly so well situated for leading the intellectual life. our own clergy have a sort of middle position between the _curé_ and the layman, which without at all interfering with their spiritual vocation, makes them better judges of the character of laymen and more completely in sympathy with it. and yet, although the life of a clergyman is favorable to culture in many ways, it is not wholly favorable to it. there exists, in clerical thinking generally, just one restriction or impediment, which is the overwhelming importance of the professional point of view. of all the professions the ecclesiastical one is that which most decidedly and most constantly affects the judgment of persons and opinions. it is peculiarly difficult for a clergyman to attain disinterestedness in his thinking, to accept truth just as it may happen to present itself, without passionately desiring that one doctrine may turn out to be strong in evidence and another unsupported. and so we find the clergy, as a class, anxious rather to discover aids to faith, than the simple scientific truth; and the more the special priestly character develops itself, the more we find them disposed to use their intellects for the triumph of principles that are decided upon beforehand. sometimes this disposition leads them to see the acts of laymen in a colored light and to speak of them without strict accuracy. here is an example of what i mean. a jesuit priest preached a sermon in london very recently, in which he said that "in germany, france, italy, and england, gigantic efforts were being made to rob christian children of the blessing of a christian education." "herod, though dead," the preacher continued, "has left his mantle behind him; and i wish that the soldiers of herod in those countries would plunge their swords into the breasts of little children while they were innocent, rather than have their souls destroyed by means of an unchristian and uncatholic education." no doubt this is very earnest and sincere, but it is not accurate and just thinking. the laity in the countries the preacher mentioned have certainly a strong tendency to exclude theology from state schools, because it is so difficult for a modern state to impose any kind of theological teaching without injustice to minorities; but the laity do not desire to deprive children of whatever instruction may be given to them by the clergy of their respective communions. may i add, that to the mind of a layman it seems a sanguinary desire that all little children should have swords plunged into their breasts rather than be taught in schools not clerically directed? the exact truth is, that the powerful lay element is certainly separating itself from the ecclesiastical element all over europe, because it is found by experience that the two have a great and increasing difficulty in working harmoniously together, but the ecclesiastical element is detached and not destroyed. the quotation i have just made is in itself a sufficient illustration of that very peculiarity in the more exalted ecclesiastical temperament, which often makes it so difficult for priests and governments, in these times, to get on comfortably together. here is first a very inaccurate statement, and then an outburst of most passionate feeling, whereas the intellect desires the strictest truth and the most complete disinterestedness. as the temper of the laity becomes more and more intellectual (and that is the direction of its movement), the sacerdotal habit will become more and more remote from it. the clerical life has many strong attractions for the intellectual, and just one drawback to counterbalance them. it offers tranquillity, shelter from the interruptions and anxieties of the more active professions, and powerful means of influence ready to hand; but it is compatible with intellectual freedom and with the satisfaction of the conscience, only just so long as the priest really remains a believer in the details of his religion. now, although we may reasonably hope to retain the chief elements of our belief, although what a man believes at twenty-five is always what he will most probably believe at fifty, still, in an age when free inquiry is the common habit of cultivated people of our sex, we may well hesitate before taking upon ourselves any formal engagement for the future, especially in matters of detail. the intellectual spirit does not regard its conclusions as being at any time final, but always provisional; we hold what we believe to be the truth until we can replace it by some more perfect truth, but cannot tell how much of to-day's beliefs to-morrow will retain or reject. it may be observed, however, that the regular performance of priestly functions is in itself a great help to permanence in belief by connecting it closely with practical habit, so that the clergy do really and honestly often retain through life their hold on early beliefs which as laymen they might have lost. the profession of the law provides ample opportunities for a critical intellect with a strong love of accuracy and a robust capacity for hard work, besides which it is the best of worldly educations. some lawyers love their work as passionately as artists do theirs, others dislike it very heartily, most of them seem to take it as a simple business to be done for daily bread. lawyers whose heart is in their work are invariably men of superior ability, which proves that there is something in it that affords gratification to the intellectual powers. however, in speaking of lawyers, i feel ignorant and on the outside, because their profession is one of which the interior feelings can be known to no one who has not practised. one thing seems clear, they get the habit of employing the whole strength and energy of their minds for especial and temporary ends, the purpose being the service of the client, certainly not the revelation of pure truth. hence, although they become very acute, and keen judges of that side of human nature which they habitually see (not the best side), they are not more disinterested than clergymen.[ ] sometimes they take up some study outside of their profession and follow it disinterestedly, but this is rare. a busy lawyer is much more likely than a clergyman to become entirely absorbed in his professional life, because it requires so much more intellectual exertion. i remember asking a very clever lawyer who lived in london, whether he ever visited an exhibition of pictures, and he answered me by the counter-inquiry whether i had read chitty on contracts, collier on partnerships, taylor on evidence, cruse's digest, or smith's mercantile law? this seemed to me at the time a good instance of the way a professional habit may narrow one's views of things, for these law-books were written for lawyers alone, whilst the picture exhibitions were intended for the public generally. my friend's answer would have been more to the point if i had inquired whether he had read linton on colors, and burnet on chiaroscuro. there is just one situation in which we all may feel for a short time as lawyers feel habitually. suppose that two inexperienced players sit down to a game of chess, and that each is backed by a clever person who is constantly giving him hints. the two backers represent the lawyers, and the players represent their clients. there is not much disinterested thought in a situation of this kind, but there is a strong stimulus to acuteness. i think that lawyers are often superior to philosophers in their sense of what is relatively important in human affairs with reference to limited spaces of time, such as half a century. they especially know the enormous importance of custom, which the speculative mind very readily forgets, and they have in the highest degree that peculiar sense which fits men for dealing with others in the affairs of ordinary life. in this respect they are remarkably superior to clergymen, and superior also to artists and men of science. the profession of medicine is, of all fairly lucrative professions, the one best suited to the development of the intellectual life. having to deal continually with science, being constantly engaged in following and observing the operation of natural laws, it produces a sense of the working of those laws which prepares the mind for bold and original speculation, and a reliance upon their unfailing regularity, which gives it great firmness and assurance. a medical education is the best possible preparation for philosophical pursuits, because it gives them a solid basis in the ascertainable. the estimation in which these studies are held is an accurate meter of the intellectual advancement of a community. when the priest is reverenced as a being above ordinary humanity, and the physician slightly esteemed, the condition of society is sure to be that of comparative ignorance and barbarism; and it is one of several signs which indicate barbarian feeling in our own aristocracy, that it has a contempt for the study of medicine. the progress of society towards enlightenment is marked by the steady social rise of the surgeon and the physician, a rise which still continues, even in western europe. it is probable that before very long the medical profession will exercise a powerful influence upon general education, and take an active share in it. there are very strong reasons for the opinion that schoolmasters educated in medicine would be peculiarly well qualified to train both body and mind for a vigorous and active manhood. an immense advantage, even from the intellectual point of view, in the pursuit of medicine and surgery, is that they supply a discipline in mental heroism. other professions do this also, but not to the same degree. the combination of an accurate training in positive science with the habitual contempt of danger and contemplation of suffering and death, is the finest possible preparation for noble studies and arduous discoveries. i ought to add, however, that medical men in the provinces, when they have not any special enthusiasm for their work, seem peculiarly liable to the deadening influences of routine, and easily fall behind their age. the medical periodicals provide the best remedy for this. the military and naval professions are too active, and too much bound to obedience in their activity, for the highest intellectual pursuits; but their greatest evil in this respect is the continual privation of solitude, and the frequency of interruption. a soldier's life in the higher ranks, when there is great responsibility and the necessity for personal decision, undoubtedly leads to the most brilliant employment of the mental powers, and develops a manliness of character which is often of the greatest use in intellectual work; so that a man of science may find his force augmented, and better under control, for having passed through a military experience; but the life of barracks and camps is destructive to continuity of thinking. the incompatibility becomes strikingly manifest when we reflect how impossible it would have been for ney or massena to do the work of cuvier or comte. cuvier even declined to accompany the expedition to egypt, notwithstanding the prospects of advantage that it offered. the reason he gave for this refusal was, that he could do more for science in the tranquillity of the jardin des plantes. he was a strict economist of time, and dreaded the loss of it involved in following an army, even though his mission would have been purely scientific. how much more would cuvier have dreaded the interruptions of a really military existence! it is these interruptions, and not any want of natural ability, that are the true explanation of the intellectual poverty which characterizes the military profession. of all the liberal professions it is the least studious. let me say a word in conclusion about the practical pursuit of the fine arts. painters are often remarkable for pleasant conversational power, and a degree of intelligence strikingly superior to their literary culture. this is because the processes of their art can be followed, at least under certain circumstances, by the exercise of hand and eye, directed merely by artistic taste and experience, whilst the intellect is left free either for reflection or conversation. rubens liked to be read to when he painted; many artists like to hear people talk, and to take a share occasionally in the conversation. the truth is that artists, even when they work very assiduously, do in fact enjoy great spaces of intellectual leisure, and often profit by them. painting itself is also a fine discipline for some of the best faculties of the mind, though it is well known that the most gifted artists think least about their art. still there is a large class of painters, including many eminent ones, who _proceed intellectually_ in the execution of their works, who reason them out philosophically step by step, and exercise a continual criticism upon their manual labor as it goes forward. i find, as i know art and artists better, that this class is more numerous than is commonly suspected, and that the charming effects which we believe to be the result of pure inspiration have often been elaborately reasoned out like a problem in mathematics. we are very apt to forget that art includes a great science, the science of natural appearances, and that the technical work of painters and engravers cannot go forward safely without the profoundest knowledge of certain delicate materials, this being also a science, and a difficult one. the common tendency is to underrate (from ignorance) what is intellectual in the practice of the fine arts; and yet the artists of past times have left evidence enough that they thought about art, and thought deeply. artists are often illiterate; but it is possible to be at the same time illiterate and intellectual; as we see frequent examples of book-learning in people who have scarcely a single idea of their own. letter ii. to a young gentleman who had literary and artistic tastes, but no profession. the world only recognizes performance--uselessness of botch-work--vastness of the interval between botch-work and handicraft--delusions of the well-to-do--quotation from charles lever--indifference, and even contempt, for skill--moral contempt for skill--the contempt which comes from the pride of knowledge--intellectual value of skill and of professional discipline. it is not a graceful thing for me to say, nor pleasant for you to hear, that what you have done hitherto in art and literature is neither of any value in itself nor likely to lead you to that which is truly and permanently satisfying. i believe you have natural ability, though it would not be easy for any critic to measure its degree when it has never been developed by properly-directed work. most critics would probably err on the unfavorable side, for we are easily blind to powers that are little more than latent. to see anything encouraging in your present performance, it would need the sympathy and intelligence of the american sculptor greenough, of whom it was said that "his recognition was not limited to achievement, but extended to latent powers." the world, however, recognizes nothing short of performance, because the performance is what it needs, and promises are of no use to it. in this rough justice of the world there is a natural distribution of rewards. you will be paid, in fame and money, for all excellent work; and you will be paid, in money, though not in fame, for all work that is even simply good, provided it be of a kind that the world needs, or fancies that it needs. but you will never be paid at all for botch-work, neither in money nor in fame, nor by your own inward approval. for we all of us either know that our botch-work is worthless, or else have serious misgivings about it. that which is less commonly realized by those who have not undergone the test of professional labor is the vastness of the interval that separates botch-work from handicraft, and the difficulty of getting over it. "there are few delusions," charles lever said in "the bramleighs," "more common with well-to-do people than the belief that if 'put to it' they could earn their own livelihood in a variety of ways. almost every man has some two or three or more accomplishments which he fancies would be quite adequate to his support; and remembering with what success the exercise of these gifts has ever been hailed in the society of his friends, he has a sort of generous dislike to be obliged to eclipse some poor drudge of a professional, who, of course, will be consigned to utter oblivion after his own performance. augustus bramleigh was certainly not a conceited or a vain man, and yet he had often in his palmy days imagined how easy it would be for him to provide for his own support. he was something of a musician; he sang pleasingly; he drew a little; he knew something of three or four modern languages; he had that sort of smattering acquaintance with questions of religion, politics, and literature which the world calls being 'well-informed,' and yet nothing short of the grave necessity revealed to him that towards the object of securing a livelihood a cobbler in his bulk was out-and-out his master. the world has no need of the man of small acquirements, and would rather have its shoes mended by the veriest botch of a professional than by the cleverest amateur that ever studied a greek sandal." something of this illusion, which charles lever has touched so truly, may be due to a peculiarity of the english mind in its present (not quite satisfactory) stage of development, a peculiarity which i am not the first to point out, since it has been already indicated by mr. pointer, the distinguished artist; and i think that this peculiarity is to be found in very great force, perhaps in greater force than elsewhere, in that well-to-do english middle class in which you have been born and educated. it consists in a sort of indifference to skill of all kinds, which passes into something not very far from active contempt when a call is made for attention, recognition, admiration. the source of this feeling will probably be found in the inordinate respect for wealth, between which and highly developed personal skill, in anything, there is a certain antagonism or incompatibility. the men of real skill are almost always men who earn their living by their skill. the feeling of the middle-class capitalists concerning the skilful man may be expressed, not unjustly, as follows: "yes, he is very clever; he may well be clever--it is his trade; he gets his living by it." this is held to exonerate us from the burden of admiration, and there is not any serious interest in the achievements of human endeavor as evidence of the marvellous natural endowments and capabilities of the human organism. in some minds the indifference to skill is more active and grows into very real, though not openly expressed contempt. this contempt is partly moral. the skilful man always rejoices in his skill with a heaven-bestowed joy and delight--one of the purest and most divine pleasures given by god to man--an encouragement to labor, and a reward, the best reward, after his arduous apprenticeship. but there is a sour and severe spirit, hating all innocent pleasures, which despises the gladness of the skilful as so much personal vanity. there is also the contempt for skill which comes from the pride of knowledge. to attain skill _in_ anything a degree of application is necessary which absorbs more time than the acquisition of knowledge _about_ the thing, so that the remarkably skilful man is not likely to be the erudite man. there have been instances of men who possessed both skill and learning. the american sculptor greenough, and the english painter dyce, were at the same time both eminently skilful in their craft and eminently learned out of it; but the combination is very rare. therefore the possession of skill has come to be considered presumptive evidence of a want of general information. but the truth is that professional skill is knowledge tested and perfected by practical application, and therefore has a great intellectual value. professional life is to private individuals what active warfare is to a military state. it brings to light every deficiency, and reveals our truest needs. and therefore it seems to me a matter for regret that you should pass your existence in irresponsible privacy, and not have your attainments tested by the exigencies of some professional career. the discipline which such a career affords, and which no private resolution can ever adequately replace, may be all that is wanting to your development. letter iii. to a young gentleman who wished to devote himself to literature as a profession. byron's vexation at the idea of poetry being considered a profession--buffon could not bear to be called a naturalist--cuvier would not be called a hellenist--faraday's life not professional--the intellectual life frequently protected by professions outside of it--professional work ought to be plain business work--michelet's account of the incubation of a book--necessity for too great rapidity of production in professional literature--it does not pay to do your best--journalism and magazine-writing--illustration from a sister art--privilege of an author to be allowed to write little. do you remember how put out byron was when some reviewer spoke of wordsworth as being "at the head of the profession"? byron's vexation was not entirely due to jealousy of wordsworth, though that may have had something to do with it, nor was it due either to an aristocratic dislike of being in a "profession" himself, though this feeling may have had a certain influence; it was due to a proper sense of the dignity of the intellectual life. buffon could not bear to be called a "naturalist," and cuvier in the same way disliked the title of hellenist, because it sounded professional: he said that though he knew more greek than all the academy he was not a hellenist as gail was, because he did not live by greek. now, if this feeling had arisen merely from a dislike to having it supposed that one is obliged to earn his own living, it would have been a contemptibly vulgar sentiment, whoever professed it. nothing can be more honorable to a man than to earn his bread by honest industry of any kind, whether it be manual or intellectual, and still i feel with byron, and buffon, and cuvier, that the great instruments of the world's intellectual culture ought not to be, in the ordinary sense, professions. byron said that poetry, as he understood it, was "an art, an attribute," but not what is understood by a "profession." surely the same is true of all the highest intellectual work, in whatever kind. you could scarcely consider faraday's life to be what is commonly understood by a professional life. tyndall says that if faraday had chosen to employ his talents in analytical chemistry he might have realized a fortune of , _l._ now that would have been a professional existence; but the career which faraday chose (happily for science) was not professional, but intellectual. the distinction between the professional and the intellectual lives is perfectly clear in my own mind, and therefore i ought to be able to express it clearly. let me make the attempt. the purpose of a profession, of a profession pure and simple, is to turn knowledge and talent to pecuniary profit. on the other hand, the purpose of cultivated men, or men of genius, who work in an unprofessional spirit, is to increase knowledge, or make it more accurate, or else simply to give free exercise to high faculties which demand it. the distinction is so clear and trenchant that most intellectual men, whose private fortunes are not large, prefer to have a profession distinct from their higher intellectual work, in order to secure the perfect independence of the latter. mr. smiles, in his valuable book on "character," gives a list of eminent intellectual men who have pursued real professional avocations of various kinds separately from their literary or scientific activity, and he mentions an observation of gifford's which is much to my present purpose:--"gifford, the editor of the _quarterly_, who knew the drudgery of writing for a living, once observed that 'a single hour of composition, won from the business of the day, is worth more than the whole day's toil of him who works at the trade of literature: in the one case, the spirit comes joyfully to refresh itself, like a hart to the water-brooks; in the other, it pursues its miserable way, panting and jaded, with the dogs of hunger and necessity behind.'" so coleridge said that "three hours of leisure, unalloyed by any alien anxiety, and looked forward to with delight as a change and recreation, will suffice to realize in literature a larger product of what is truly genial than weeks of compulsion." coleridge's idea of a profession was, that it should be "some regular employment which could be carried on so far mechanically, that an average quantum only of health, spirits, and intellectual exertion are requisite to its faithful discharge." without in the least desiring to undervalue good professional work of any kind, i may observe that, to be truly professional, it ought to be always at command, and therefore that the average power of the man's intellect, not his rare flashes of highest intellectual illumination, ought to suffice for it. professional work ought always to be plain business work, requiring knowledge and skill, but not any effort of genius. for example, in medicine, it is professional work to prescribe a dose or amputate a limb, but not to discover the nervous system or the circulation of the blood. if literature paid sufficiently well to allow it, a literary man might very wisely consider _study_ to be his profession, and not production. he would then study regularly, say, six hours a day, and write when he had something to say, and really wanted to express it. his book, when it came out, would have had time to be properly hatched, and would probably have natural life in it. michelet says of one of his books: "cette oeuvre a du moins le caractère d'être venue comme vient toute vraie création vivante. elle s'est faite à la chaleur d'une douce incubation."[ ] it would be impossible, in so short a space, to give a more accurate description of the natural manner in which a book comes into existence. a book ought always to be "fait à la chaleur d'une douce incubation." but when you make a profession of literature this is what you can hardly ever get leave to do. literary men require to see something of the world; they can hardly be hermits, and the world cannot be seen without a constant running expenditure, which at the end of the year represents an income. men of culture and refinement really _cannot_ live like very poor people without deteriorating in refinement, and falling behind in knowledge of the world. when they are married, and have families, they can hardly let their families live differently from themselves; so that there are the usual expenses of the english professional classes to be met, and these are heavy when they have to be got out of the profits of literature. the consequence is, that if a book is to be written prudently it must be written quickly, and with the least amount of preparatory labor that can possibly be made to serve. this is very different from the "_douce incubation_" of michelet. goldsmith said of hack-writing, that it was difficult to imagine a combination more prejudicial to taste than that of the author whose interest it is to write as much as possible, and the bookseller, whose interest it is to pay as little as possible. the condition of authors has no doubt greatly improved since goldsmith's time, but still the fact remains that the most careful and finished writing, requiring extensive preparatory study, is a luxury in which the professional writer can only indulge himself at great risk. careful writing does, no doubt, occasionally pay for the time it costs; but such writing is more commonly done by men who are either independent by fortune, or who make themselves, as authors, independent by the pursuit of some other profession, than by regular men of letters whose whole income is derived from their inkstands. and when, by way of exception, the hack-writer does produce very highly-finished and concentrated work, based upon an elaborate foundation of hard study, that work is seldom professional in the strictest sense, but is a labor of love, outside the hasty journalism or magazine-writing that wins his daily bread. in cases of this kind it is clear that the best work is not done as a regular part of professional duty, and that the author might as well earn his bread in some other calling, if he still had the same amount of leisure for the composition of real literature. the fault i find with writing as a profession is that _it does not pay to do your best_. i don't mean to insinuate that downright slovenly or careless work is the most profitable; but i do mean to say that any high degree of conscientiousness, especially in the way of study and research, is a direct injury to the professional writer's purse. suppose, for example, that he is engaged in reviewing a book, and is to get _l._ _s._ for the review when it is written. if by the accident of previous accumulation his knowledge is already fully equal to the demand upon it, the review may be written rapidly, and the day's work will have been a profitable one; but if, on the other hand, it is necessary to consult several authorities, to make some laborious researches, then the reviewer is placed in a dilemma between literary thoroughness and duty to his family. he cannot spend a week in reading up a subject for the sum of _l._ _s._ is it not much easier to string together a few phrases which will effectually hide his ignorance from everybody but the half-dozen enthusiasts who have mastered the subject of the book? it is strange that the professional pursuit of literature should be a direct discouragement to study; yet it is so. there _are_ hack-writers who study, and they deserve much honor for doing so, since the temptations the other way are always so pressing and immediate. sainte-beuve was a true student, loving literature for its own sake, and preparing for his articles with a diligence rare in the profession. but he was scarcely a hack-writer, having a modest independency, and living besides with the quiet frugality of a bachelor. the truth seems to be that literature of the highest kind can only in the most exceptional cases be made a profession, yet that a skilful writer may use his pen professionally if he chooses. the production of the printed talk of the day _is_ a profession, requiring no more than average ability, and the tone and temper of ordinary educated men. the outcome of it is journalism and magazine-writing; and now let me say a word or two about these. the highest kind of journalism is very well done in england; the men who do it are often either highly educated, or richly gifted by nature, or both. the practice of journalism is useful to an author in giving him a degree of readiness and rapidity, a skill in turning his materials to immediate account, and a power of presenting one or two points effectively, which may often be valuable in literature of a more permanent order. the danger of it may be illustrated by a reference to a sister art. i was in the studio of an english landscape-painter when some pictures arrived from an artist in the country to go along with his own to one of the exhibitions. they were all very pretty and very clever--indeed, so clever were they, that their cleverness was almost offensive--and so long as they were looked at by themselves, the brilliance of them was rather dazzling. but the instant they were placed by the side of thoroughly careful and earnest work, it became strikingly evident that they had been painted hastily, and would be almost immediately exhausted by the purchaser. now these pictures were the _journalism of painting_; and my friend told me that when once an artist has got into the habit of doing hasty work like that, he seldom acquires better habits afterwards. professional writers who follow journalism for its immediate profits, are liable in like manner to retain the habit of diffuseness in literature which ought to be more finished and more concentrated. therefore, although journalism is a good teacher of promptitude and decision, it often spoils a hand for higher literature by incapacitating it for perfect finish; and it is better for a writer who has ambition to write little, _but always his best_, than to dilute himself in daily columns. one of the greatest privileges which an author can aspire to is _to be allowed to write little_, and that is a privilege which the professional writer does not enjoy except in such rare instances as that of tennyson, whose careful finish is as prudent in the professional sense as it is satisfactory to the scrupulous fastidiousness of the artist. letter iv. to an energetic and successful cotton manufacturer. two classes in their lower grades inevitably hostile--the spiritual and temporal powers--the functions of both not easily exercised by the same person--humboldt, faraday, livingstone--the difficulty about time--limits to the energy of the individual--jealousy between the classes--that this jealousy ought not to exist--some of the sciences based upon an industrial development--the work of the intellectual class absolutely necessary in a highly civilized community--that it grows in numbers and influence side by side with the industrial class. our last conversation together, in the privacy of your splendid new drawing-room after the guests had gone away and the music had ceased for the night, left me under the impression that we had not arrived at a perfect understanding of each other. this was due in a great measure to my unfortunate incapacity for expressing anything exactly by spoken words. the constant habit of writing, which permits a leisurely selection from one's ideas, is often very unfavorable to readiness in conversation. will you permit me, then, to go over the ground we traversed, this time in my own way, pen in hand? we represent, you and i, two classes which in their lower grades are inevitably hostile; but the superior members of these classes ought not to feel any hostility, since both are equally necessary to the world. we are, in truth, the spiritual and the temporal powers in their most modern form. the chief of industry and the man of letters stand to-day in the same relation to each other and to mankind as the baron and bishop of the middle ages. we are not recognized, either of us, by formally conferred titles, we are both held to be somewhat intrusive by the representatives of a former order of things, and there is, or was until very lately, a certain disposition to deny what we consider our natural rights; but we know that our powers are not to be resisted, and we have the inward assurance that the forces of nature are with us. this, with reference to the outer world. but there is a want of clearness in the relation between ourselves. you understand your great temporal function, which is the wise direction of the industry of masses, the accumulation and distribution of wealth; but you do not so clearly understand the spiritual function of the intellectual class, and you do not think of it quite justly. this want of understanding is called by some of us your philistinism. will you permit me to explain what the intellectual class thinks of you, and what is its opinion about itself? pray excuse any appearance of presumption on my part if i say we of the intellectual class and you of the industrial. my position is something like that of the clergyman who reads, "let him come to me or to some other learned and discreet minister of god's word," thereby calling himself learned and discreet. it is a simple matter of fact that i belong to the intellectual class, since i lead its life, just as it is a fact that you have a quarter of a million of money. first, i want to show that the existence of my class is necessary. although men in various occupations often acquire a considerable degree of culture outside their trade, the highest results of culture can scarcely ever be attained by men whose time is taken up in earning a fortune. every man has but a limited flow of mental energy per day; and if this is used up in an industrial leadership, he cannot do much more in the intellectual sphere than simply ascertain what has been done by others. now, although we have a certain respect, and the respect is just, for those who know what others have accomplished, it is clear that if no one did more than this, if no one made any fresh discoveries, the world would make no progress whatever; and in fact, if nobody ever had been dedicated to intellectual pursuits in preceding ages, the men who only learn what others have done, would in these days have had nothing to learn. past history proves the immensity of the debt which the world owes to men who gave their whole time and attention to intellectual pursuits; and if the existences of these men could be eliminated from the past of the human race, its present would be very different from what it is. a list has been published of men who have done much good work in the intervals of business, but still the fact remains that the great intellectual pioneers were absorbed and devoted men, scorning wealth so far as it affected themselves, and ready to endure everything for knowledge beyond the knowledge of their times. instances of such enthusiasm abound, an enthusiasm fully justified by the value of the results which it has achieved. when alexander humboldt sold his inheritance to have the means for his great journey in south america, and calmly dedicated the whole of a long life, and the strength of a robust constitution, to the advancement of natural knowledge, he acted foolishly indeed, if years, and strength, and fortune are given to us only to be well invested in view of money returns; but the world has profited by his decision. faraday gave up the whole of his time to discovery when he might have earned a large fortune by the judicious investment of his extraordinary skill in chemistry. livingstone has sacrificed everything to the pursuit of his great work in africa. lives such as these--and many resemble them in useful devotion of which we hear much less--are clearly not compatible with much money-getting. a decent existence, free from debt, is all that such men ought to be held answerable for. i have taken two or three leading instances, but there is quite a large class of intellectual people who cannot in the nature of things serve society effectively in their own way without being quite outside of the industrial life. there is a real incompatibility between some pursuits and others. i suspect that you would have been a good general, for you are a born leader and commander of men; but it would have been difficult to unite a regular military career with strict personal attention to your factories. we often find the same difficulty in our intellectual pursuits. we are not always quite so unpractical as you think we are; but the difficulty is how to find the time, and how to arrange it so as not to miss two or three distinct classes of opportunities. we are not all of us exactly imbeciles in money matters, though the pecuniary results of our labors seem no doubt pitiful enough. there is a tradition that a greek philosopher, who was suspected by the practical men of his day of incapacity for affairs, devoted a year to prove the contrary, and traded so judiciously that he amassed thereby great riches. it may be doubtful whether he could do it in one year, but many a fine intellectual capacity has overshadowed a fine practical capacity in the same head by the withdrawal of time and effort. it is because the energies of one man are so limited, and there is so little time in a single human life, that the intellectual and industrial functions must, _in their highest development_, be separated. no one man could unite in his own person your life and humboldt's, though it is possible that he might have the natural capacity for both. grant us, then, the liberty _not_ to earn very much money, and this being once granted, try to look upon our intellectual superiority as a simple natural fact, just as we look upon your pecuniary superiority. in saying in this plain way that we are intellectually superior to you and your class, i am guilty of no more pride and vanity than you when you affirm or display your wealth. the fact is there, in its simplicity. we have culture because we have paid the twenty or thirty years of labor which are the price of culture, just as you have great factories and estates which are the reward of your life's patient and intelligent endeavor. why should there be any narrow jealousy between us; why any contempt on the one side or the other? each has done his appointed work, each has caused to fructify the talent which the master gave. yet a certain jealousy _does_ exist, if not between you and me personally, at least between our classes. the men who have culture without wealth are jealous of the power and privileges of those who possess money without culture; and on the other hand, the men whose time has been too entirely absorbed by commercial pursuits to leave them any margin sufficient to do justice to their intellectual powers, are often painfully sensitive to the contempt of the cultivated, and strongly disposed, from jealousy, to undervalue culture itself. both are wrong so far as they indulge any unworthy and unreasonable feeling of this kind. the existence of the two classes is necessary to an advanced civilization. the science of accumulating and administrating material wealth, of which you yourself are a great practical master, is the foundation of the material prosperity of nations, and it is only when this prosperity is fully assured to great numbers that the arts and sciences can develop themselves in perfect liberty and with the tranquil assurance of their own permanence. the advancement of material well-being in modern states tends so directly to the advancement of intellectual pursuits, even when the makers of fortunes are themselves indifferent to this result, that it ought always to be a matter of congratulation for the intellectual class itself, which needs the support of a great public with leisure to read and think. it is easy to show how those arts and sciences which our class delights to cultivate are built upon those developments of industry which have been brought about by the energy of yours. suppose the case of a scientific chemist: the materials for his experiments are provided ready to his hand by the industrial class; the record of them is preserved on paper manufactured by the same industrial class; and the public which encourages him by its attention is usually found in great cities which are maintained by the labors of the same useful servants of humanity. it is possible, no doubt, in these modern times, that some purely pastoral or agricultural community might produce a great chemist, because a man of inborn scientific genius who came into the world in an agricultural country might in these days get his books and materials from industrial centres at a distance, but his work would still be based on the industrial life of others. no pastoral or agricultural community which was really isolated from industrial communities ever produced a chemist. and now consider how enormously important this one science of chemistry has proved itself even to our intellectual life! several other sciences have been either greatly strengthened or else altogether renewed by it, and the wonderful photographic processes have been for nature and the fine arts what printing was for literature, placing reliable and authentic materials for study within the reach of every one. literature itself has profited by the industrial progress of the present age, in the increased cheapness of everything that is material in books. i please myself with the reflection that even you make paper cheaper by manufacturing so much cotton. all these are reasons why we ought not to be jealous of you; and now permit me to indicate a few other reasons why it is unreasonable on your part to feel any jealousy of us. suppose we were to cease working to-morrow--cease working, i mean, in our peculiar ways--and all of us become colliers and factory operatives instead, with nobody to supply our places. or, since you may possibly be of opinion that there is enough literature and science in the world at the present day, suppose rather that at some preceding date the whole literary and scientific and artistic labor of the human race; had come suddenly to a standstill. mind, i do not say of englishmen merely, but of the whole race, for if any intellectual work had been done in france or germany, or even in japan, you would have imported it like cotton and foreign cereals. well, i have no hesitation in telling you that although there was a good deal of literature and science in england before the st of january, , the present condition of the nation would have been a very chaotic condition if the intellectual class had ceased on that day to think and observe and to place on record its thoughts and observations. the life of a progressive nation cannot long go forward exclusively on the thinking of the past: its thoughtful men must not be all dead men, but living men who accompany it on its course. it is they who make clear the lessons of experience; it is they who discover the reliable general laws upon which all safe action must be founded in the future; it is they who give decision to human action in every direction by constantly registering, in language of comprehensive accuracy, both its successes and its failures. it is their great and arduous labor which makes knowledge accessible to men of action at the cost of little effort and the smallest possible expenditure of time. the intellectual class grows in numbers and in influence along with the numbers and influence of the materially productive population of the state. and not only are the natural philosophers, the writers of contemporary and past history, the discoverers in science, _necessary_ in the strictest sense to the life of such a community as the modern english community, but even the poets, the novelists, the artists are necessary to the perfection of its life. without them and their work the national mind would be as incomplete as would be the natural universe without beauty. but this, perhaps, you will perceive less clearly, or be less willing to admit. letter v. to a young etonian who thought of becoming a cotton-spinner. absurd old prejudices against commerce--stigma attached to the great majority of occupations--traditions of feudalism--distinctions between one trade and another--a real instance of an etonian who had gone into the cotton-trade--observations on this case--the trade a fine field for energy--a poor one for intellectual culture--it develops practical ability--culture not possible without leisure--the founders of commercial fortunes. it is agreeable to see various indications that the absurd old prejudices against commerce are certainly declining. there still remains quite enough contempt for trade in the professional classes and the aristocracy, to give us frequent opportunities for studying it as a relic of former superstition, unhappily not yet rare enough to be quite a curiosity; but as time passes and people become more rational, it will retreat to out-of-the-way corners of old country mansions and rural parsonages, at a safe distance from the light-giving centres of industry. it is a surprising fact, and one which proves the almost pathetic spirit of deference and submission to superiors which characterizes the english people, that out of the hundreds of occupations which are followed by the busy classes of this country, only three are entirely free from some degrading stigma, so that they may be followed by a high-born youth without any sacrifice of caste. the wonder is that the great active majority of the nation, the men who by their industry and intelligence have made england what she is, should ever have been willing to submit to so insolent a rule as this rule of caste, which, instead of honoring industry, honored idleness, and attached a stigma to the most useful and important trades. the landowner, the soldier, the priest, these three were pure from every stain of degradation, and only these three were quite absolutely and ethereally pure. next to them came the lawyer and the physician, on whom there rested some traces of the lower earth; so that although the youthful baron would fight or preach, he would neither plead nor heal. and after these came the lower professions and the innumerable trades, all marked with stigmas of deeper and deeper degradation. from the intellectual point of view these prejudices indicate a state of society in which public opinion has not emerged from barbarism. it understands the strength of the feudal chief having land, with serfs or voters on the land; it knows the uses of the sword, and it dreads the menaces of the priesthood. beyond this it knows little, and despises what it does not understand. it is ignorant of science, and industry, and art; it despises them as servile occupations beneath its conception of the gentleman. this is the tradition of countries which retain the impressions of feudalism; but notwithstanding all our philosophy, it is difficult for us to avoid some feeling of astonishment when we reflect that the public opinion of england--a country that owes so much of her greatness and nearly all her wealth to commercial enterprise--should be contemptuous towards commerce. i may notice, in passing, a very curious form of this narrowness. trade is despised, but distinctions are established between one trade and another. a man who sells wine is considered more of a gentleman than a man who sells figs and raisins; and i believe you will find, if you observe people carefully, that a woollen manufacturer is thought to be a shade less vulgar than a cotton manufacturer. these distinctions are seldom based on reason, for the work of commerce is generally very much the same sort of work, mentally, whatever may be the materials it deals in. you may be heartily congratulated on the strength of mind, firmness of resolution, and superiority to prejudice, which have led you to choose the business of a cotton-spinner. it is an excellent business, and, in itself, every whit as honorable as dealing in corn and cattle, which our nobles do habitually without reproach. but now that i have disclaimed any participation in the stupid narrowness which despises trade in general, and the cotton-trade in particular, let me add a few words upon the effects of the cotton business on the mind. there appeared in one of the newspapers a little time since a most interesting and evidently genuine letter from an etonian, who had actually entered business in a cotton factory, and devoted himself to it so as to earn the confidence of his employers and a salary of _l_. a year as manager. he had waited some time uselessly for a diplomatic appointment which did not arrive, and so, rather than lose the best years of early manhood, as a more indolent fellow would have done very willingly, in pure idleness, he took the resolution of entering business, and carried out his determination with admirable persistence. at first nobody would believe that the "swell" could be serious; people thought that his idea of manufacturing was a mere freak, and expected him to abandon it when he had to face the tedium of the daily work; but the swell _was_ serious--went to the mill at six in the morning and stayed there till six at night, from monday till saturday inclusive. after a year of this, his new companions believed in him. now, all this is very admirable indeed as a manifestation of energy, and that truest independence which looks to fortune as the reward of its own manly effort, but it may be permitted to me to make a few observations on this young gentleman's resolve. what he did seems to me rather the act of an energetic nature seeking an outlet for energy, than of an intellectual nature seeking pasture and exercise for the intellect. i am far indeed from desiring, by this comparison, to cast any disparaging light on the young gentleman's natural endowments, which appear to have been valuable in their order and robust in their degree, nor do i question the wisdom of his choice; all i mean to imply is, that although he had chosen a fine large field for simple energy, it was a poor and barren field for the intellect to pasture in. consider for one moment the difference in this respect between the career which he had abandoned and the trade he had embraced. as an _attaché_ he would have lived in capital cities, have had the best opportunities for perfecting himself in modern languages, and for meeting the most varied and the most interesting society. in every day there would have been precious hours of leisure, to be employed in the increase of his culture. if an intellectual man, having to choose between diplomacy and cotton-spinning, preferred cotton-spinning it would be from the desire for wealth, or from the love of an english home. the life of a cotton manufacturer, who personally attends to his business with that close supervision which has generally conducted to success, leaves scarcely any margin for intellectual pleasure or spare energy for intellectual work. after ten hours in the mill, it is difficult to sit down and study; and even if there were energy enough, the mind would not readily cast off the burden of great practical anxieties and responsibilities so as to attune itself to disinterested thinking. the leaders of industry often display mental power of as high an order as that which is employed in the government of great empires; they show the highest administrative ability, they have to deal continually with financial questions which on their smaller scale require as much forethought and acumen as those that concern the exchequer; but the ability they need is always strictly practical, and there is the widest difference between the practical and the intellectual minds. a constant and close pressure of practical considerations develops the sort of power which deals effectually with the present and its needs but atrophies the higher mind. the two minds which we call intelligence and intellect resemble the feet and wings of birds. eagles and swallows walk badly or not at all, but they have a marvellous strength of flight; ostriches are great pedestrians, but they know nothing of the regions of the air. the best that can be hoped for men immersed in the details of business is that they may be able, like partridges and pheasants, to take a short flight on an emergency, and rise, if only for a few minutes, above the level of the stubble and the copse. without, therefore, desiring to imply any prejudiced contempt for trade, i do desire to urge the consideration of its inevitable effects upon the mind. for men of great practical intelligence and abundant energy, trade is all-sufficing, but it could never entirely satisfy an intellectual nature. and although there is drudgery in every pursuit, for even literature and painting are full of it, still there are certain kinds of drudgery which intellectual natures find to be harder to endure than others. the drudgery which they bear least easily is an incessant attention to duties which have no intellectual interest, and yet which cannot be properly performed mechanically so as to leave the mind at liberty for its own speculations. deep thinkers are notoriously absent, for thought requires abstraction from what surrounds us, and it is hard for them to be denied the liberty of dreaming. an intellectual person might be happy as a stone-breaker on the roadside, because the work would leave his mind at liberty; but he would certainly be miserable as an engine-driver at a coal-pit shaft, where the abstraction of an instant would imperil the lives of others. in a recent address delivered by mr. gladstone at liverpool, he acknowledged the neglect of culture which is one of the shortcomings of our trading community, and held out the hope (perhaps in some degree illusory) that the same persons might become eminent in commerce and in learning. no doubt there have been instances of this; and when a "concern" has been firmly established by the energy of a predecessor, the heir to it may be satisfied with a royal sort of supervision, leaving the drudgery of detail to his managers, and so secure for himself that sufficient leisure without which high culture is not possible. but the _founders_ of great commercial fortunes have, i believe, in every instance thrown their _whole_ energy into their trade, making wealth their aim, and leaving culture to be added in another generation. the founders of commercial families are in this country usually men of great mother-wit and plenty of determination--but illiterate. footnotes: [ ] the word "disinterested" is used here in the sense explained in part ii. letter iii. [ ] "this work has at any rate the character of having come into the world like every really living creation. it has been produced by the heat of a gentle incubation." part xii. _surroundings._ letter i. to a friend who often changed his place of residence. an unsettled class of english people--effect of localities on the mind--reaction against surroundings--landscape-painting a consequence of it--crushing effect of too much natural magnificence--the mind takes color from its surroundings--selection of a place of residence--charles dickens--heinrich heine--dr. arnold at rugby--his house in the lake district--tycho brahe--his establishment on the island of hween--the young humboldts in the castle of tegel--alexander humboldt's appreciation of paris--dr. johnson--mr. buckle--cowper--galileo. i find that there is a whole class of english subjects (you belong to that class) of whom it is utterly impossible to predict where they will be living in five years. indeed, as you are the worst of correspondents, i only learned your present address, by sheer accident, from a perfect stranger, and he told me, of course, that you had plans for going somewhere else, but where that might be he knew not. the civilized english nomad is usually, like yourself, a person of independent means, rich enough to bear the expenses of frequent removals, but without the cares of property. his money is safely invested in the funds, or in railways; and so, wherever the postman can bring his dividends, he can live in freedom from material cares. when his wife is as unsettled as himself, the pair seem to live in a balloon, or in a sort of noah's ark, which goes whither the wind lists, and takes ground in the most unexpected places. have you ever studied the effect of localities on the mind--on your own mind? that which we are is due in great part to the accident of our surroundings, which act upon us in one or two quite opposite ways. either we feel in harmony with them, in which case they produce a positive effect upon us, or else we are out of harmony, and then they drive us into the strangest reactions. a great ugly english town, like manchester, for instance, makes some men such thorough townsmen that they cannot live without smoky chimneys; or it fills the souls of others with such a passionate longing for beautiful scenery and rustic retirement, that they find it absolutely necessary to bury themselves from time to time in the recesses of picturesque mountains. the development of modern landscape-painting has not been due to habits of rural existence, but to the growth of very big and hideous modern cities, which made men long for shady forests, and pure streams, and magnificent spectacles of sunset, and dawn, and moonlight. it is by this time a trite observation that people who have always lived in beautiful scenery do not, and cannot, appreciate it; that too much natural magnificence positively crushes the activity of the intellect and that its best effect is simply that of refreshment for people who have not access to it every day. it happens too, in a converse way, that rustics and mountaineers have the strongest appreciation of the advantages of great cities, and thrive in them often more happily than citizens who are born in the brick streets. those who have great facilities for changing their place of residence ought always to bear in mind that every locality is like a dyer's vat, and that the residents take its color, or some other color, from it just as the clothes do that the dyer steeps in stain. if you look back upon your past life, you will assuredly admit that every place has colored your mental habits; and that although other tints from other places have supervened, so that it may be difficult to say precisely what remains of the place you lived in many years ago, still something does remain, like the effect of the first painting on a picture, which tells on the whole work permanently, though it may have been covered over and over again by what painters call scumblings and glazings. the selection of a place of residence, even though we only intend to pass a few short years in it, is from the intellectual point of view a matter so important that one can hardly exaggerate its consequences. we see this quite plainly in the case of authors, whose minds are more visible to us than the minds of other men, and therefore more easily and conveniently studied. we need no biographer to inform us that dickens was a londoner, that browning had lived in italy, that ruskin had passed many seasons in switzerland and venice. suppose for one moment that these three authors had been born in ireland, and had never quitted it, is it not certain that their production would have been different? let us carry our supposition farther still, and conceive, if we can, the difference to their literary performance if they had been born, not in ireland, but in iceland, and lived there all their lives! is it not highly probable that in this case their production would have been so starved and impoverished from insufficiency of material and of suggestion, that they would have uttered nothing but some simple expression of sentiment and imagination, some homely song or tale? all sights and sounds have their influence on our temper and on our thoughts, and our inmost being is not the same in one place as in another. we are like blank paper that takes a tint by reflection from what is nearest, and changes it as its surroundings change. in a dull gray room, how gray and dull it looks! but it will be bathed in rose or amber if the hangings are crimson or yellow. there are natures that go to the streams of life in great cities as the heart goes to the water-brooks; there are other natures that need the solitude of primæval forests and the silence of the alps. the most popular of english novelists sometimes went to write in the tranquillity of beautiful scenery, taking his manuscript to the shore of some azure lake in switzerland, in sight of the eternal snow; but all that beauty and peace, all that sweetness of pure air and color, were not seductive enough to overcome for many days the deep longing for the london streets. his genius needed the streets, as a bee needs the summer flowers, and languished when long separated from them. others have needed the wild heather, or the murmur of the ocean, or the sound of autumn winds that strip great forest-trees. who does not deeply pity poor heine in his last sad years, when he lay fixed on his couch of pain in that narrow parisian lodging, and compared it to the sounding grave of merlin the enchanter, "which is situated in the wood of brozeliande, in brittany, under lofty oaks whose tops taper, like emerald flames, towards heaven. o brother merlin," he exclaims, and with what touching pathos! "o brother merlin, i envy thee those trees, with their fresh breezes, for never a green leaf rustles about this mattress-grave of mine in paris, where from morning till night i hear nothing but the rattle of wheels, the clatter of hammers, street-brawls, and the jingling of pianofortes!" in the biography of dr. arnold, his longing for natural beauty recurs as one of the peculiarities of his constitution. he did not need very grand scenery, though he enjoyed it deeply, but some wild natural loveliness was such a necessity for him that he pined for it unhappily in its absence. rugby could offer him scarcely anything of this, "we have no hills," he lamented, "no plains--not a single wood, and but one single copse; no heath, no down, no rock, no river, no clear stream--scarcely any flowers, for the lias is particularly poor in them--nothing but one endless monotony of enclosed fields and hedgerow trees. this is to me a daily privation; it robs me of what is naturally my anti-attrition; and as i grow older i begin to feel it.... the positive dulness of the country about rugby makes it to me a mere working-place: i cannot expatiate there even in my walks." "the monotonous character of the midland scenery of warwickshire," says dr. arnold's biographer, "was to him, with his strong love of natural beauty and variety, absolutely repulsive; there was something almost touching in the eagerness with which, amidst that 'endless succession of fields and hedgerows,' he would make the most of any features of a higher order; in the pleasure with which he would cherish the few places where the current of the avon was perceptible, or where a glimpse of the horizon could be discerned; in the humorous despair with which he would gaze on the dull expanse of fields eastward from rugby. it is no wonder we do not like looking that way, when one considers that there is nothing fine between us and the ural mountains. conceive what you look over; for you just miss sweden, and look over holland, the north of germany, and the centre of russia."[ ] this dreadful midland monotony impelled dr. arnold to seek refreshment and compensation in a holiday home in the lake district, and there he found all that his eyes longed for, streams, hills, woods, and wild-flowers. nor had his belief in the value of these sweet natural surroundings been illusory; such instincts are not given for our betrayal, and the soul of a wise man knows its own needs, both before they are supplied, and after. westmorland gave him all he had hoped from it, and more. "body and mind," he wrote, "alike seem to repose greedily in delicious quiet, without dulness, which we enjoy in westmorland." and again: "at allan bank, in the summer, i worked on the roman history, and hope to do so again in the winter. it is very inspiring to write with such a view before one's eyes as that from our drawing-room at allan bank, where the trees of the shrubbery gradually run up into the trees of the cliff, and the mountain-side, with its infinite variety of rocky peaks and points upon which the cattle expatiate, rises over the tops of the trees." of all happily-situated mental laborers who have worked since the days of horace, surely tycho brahe was the happiest and most to be envied. king frederick of denmark gave him a delightful island for his habitation, large enough for him not to feel imprisoned (the circumference being about five miles), yet little enough for him to feel as snugly at home there as mr. waterton in his high-walled park. the land was fertile and rich in game, so that the scientific robinson crusoe lived in material abundance; and as he was only about seven miles from copenhagen, he could procure everything necessary to his convenience. he built a great house on the elevated land in the midst of the isle, about three-quarters of a mile from the sea, a palace of art and science, with statues and paintings and all the apparatus which the ingenuity of that age could contrive for the advancement of astronomical pursuits. uniting the case of a rich nobleman's existence with every aid to science, including special erections for his instruments, and a printing establishment that worked under his own immediate direction, he lived far enough from the capital to enjoy the most perfect tranquillity, yet near enough to escape the consequences of too absolute isolation. aided in all he undertook by a staff of assistants that he himself had trained, supported in his labor by the encouragement of his sovereign, and especially by his own unflagging interest in scientific investigation, he led in that peaceful island the ideal intellectual life. of that mansion where he labored, of the observatory where he watched the celestial phenomena, surrounded but not disturbed by the waves of a shallow sea, there remains at this day literally not one stone upon another; but many a less fortunate laborer in the same field, harassed by poverty, distracted by noise and interruption, has remembered with pardonable envy the splendid peace of uranienborg. it was one of the many fortunate circumstances in the position of the two humboldts that they passed their youth in the quiet old castle of tegel, separated from berlin by a pine-wood, and surrounded by walks and gardens. they too, like tycho brahe, enjoyed that happy combination of tranquillity with the neighborhood of a capital city which is so peculiarly favorable to culture. in later life, when alexander humboldt had collected those immense masses of material which were the result of his travels in south america, he warmly appreciated the unequalled advantages of paris. he knew how to extract from the solitudes of primæval nature what he wanted for the enrichment of his mind; but he knew also how to avail himself of all the assistance and opportunities which are only to be had in great capitals. he was not attracted to town-life, like dr. johnson and mr. buckle, to the exclusion of wild nature; but neither, on the other hand, had he that horror of towns which was a morbid defect in cowper, and which condemns those who suffer from it to rusticity. even galileo, who thought the country especially favorable to speculative intellects, and the walls of cities an imprisonment for them, declared that the best years of his life were those he had spent in padua. letter ii. to a friend who maintained that surroundings were a matter of indifference to a thoroughly occupied mind. archimedes at the siege of syracuse--geoffroy st. hilaire in the besieged city of alexandria--goethe at the bombardment of verdun--lullo, the oriental missionary--giordano bruno--unacknowledged effect of surroundings--effect of frankfort on goethe--great capitals--goethe--his garden-house--what he said about béranger and paris--fortunate surroundings of titian. there are so many well-known instances of men who have been able to continue their intellectual labors under the most unfavorable conditions, that your argument might be powerfully supported by an appeal to actual experience. there is archimedes, of course, to begin with, who certainly seems to have abstracted himself sufficiently from the tumult of a great siege to forget it altogether when occupied with his mathematical problems. the prevalent stories of his death, though not identical, point evidently to a habit of abstraction which had been remarked as a peculiarity by those about him, and it is probable enough that a great inventor in engineering would follow his usual speculations under circumstances which, though dangerous, had lasted long enough to become habitual. even modern warfare, which from the use of gunpowder is so much noisier than that which raged at syracuse, does not hinder men from thinking and writing when they are used to it. geoffrey st. hilaire never worked more steadily and regularly in his whole life than he did in the midst of the besieged city of alexandria. "knowledge is so sweet," he said long afterwards, in speaking of this experience, "that it never entered my thoughts how a bombshell might in an instant have cast into the abyss both me and my documents." by good luck two electric fish had been caught and given to him just then, so he immediately began to make experiments, as if he had been in his own cabinet in paris, and for three weeks he thought of nothing else, utterly forgetting the fierce warfare that filled the air with thunder and flame, and the streets with victims. he had sixty-four hypotheses to amuse him, and it was necessary to review his whole scientific acquirement with reference to each of these as he considered them one by one. it may be doubted, however, whether he was more in danger from the bombardment or from the intensity of his own mental concentration. he grew thin and haggard, slept one hour in the twenty-four, and lived in a perilous condition of nervous strain and excitement. goethe at the bombardment of verdun, letting his mind take its own course, found that it did not occupy itself with tragedies, or with anything suggested by what was passing in the conflict around him, but by scientific considerations about the phenomena of colors. he noticed, in a passing observation, the bad effect of war upon the mind, how it makes people destructive one day and creative the next, how it accustoms them to phases intended to excite hope in desperate circumstances, thus producing a peculiar sort of hypocrisy different from the priestly and courtly kind. this is the extent of his interest in the war; but when he finds some soldiers fishing he is attracted to the spot and profoundly occupied--not with the soldiers, but with the optical phenomena on the water. he was never very much moved by external events, nor did he take that intense interest in the politics of the day which we often find in people less studious of literature and science. raimond lullo, the oriental missionary, continued to write many volumes in the midst of the most continual difficulties and dangers, preserving as much mental energy and clearness as if he had been safe and tranquil in a library. giordano bruno worked constantly also in the midst of political troubles and religious persecutions, and his biographer tells us that "il desiderio vivissimo della scienza aveva ben più efficacia sull' animo del bruno, che non gli avvenimenti esterni." these examples which have just occurred to me, and many others that it would be easy to collect, may be taken to prove at least so much as this, that it is possible to be absorbed in private studies when surrounded by the most disturbing influences; but even in these cases it would be a mistake to conclude that the surroundings had no effect whatever. there can be no doubt that geoffroy st. hilaire was intensely excited by the siege of alexandria, though he may not have attributed his excitement to that cause. his mind was occupied with the electrical fishes, but his nervous system was wrought upon by the siege, and kept in that state of tension which at the same time enabled him to get through a gigantic piece of intellectual labor and made him incapable of rest. had this condition been prolonged it must have terminated either in exhaustion or in madness. men have often engaged in literature or science to escape the pressure of anxiety, which strenuous mental labor permits us, at least temporarily, to forget; but the circumstances which surround us have invariably an influence of some kind upon our thinking, though the connection may not be obvious. even in the case of goethe, who could study optics on a battle-field, his english biographer recognizes the effect of the frankfort life which surrounded the great author in his childhood. "the old frankfort city, with its busy crowds, its fairs, its mixed population, and its many sources of excitement, offered great temptations and great pasture to so desultory a genius. this is perhaps a case wherein circumstances may be seen influencing the direction of character.... a large continuity of thought and effort was perhaps radically uncongenial to such a temperament; yet one cannot help speculating whether under other circumstances he might not have achieved it. had he been reared in a quiet little old german town, where he would have daily seen the same faces in the silent streets, and come in contact with the same characters, his culture might have been less various, but it might perhaps have been deeper. had he been reared in the country, with only the changing seasons and the sweet serenities of nature to occupy his attention when released from study, he would certainly have been a different poet. the long summer afternoons spent in lonely rambles, the deepening twilights filled with shadowy visions, the slow uniformity of his external life necessarily throwing him more and more upon the subtler diversities of inward experience, would inevitably have influenced his genius in quite different directions, would have animated his works with a very different spirit." we are sometimes told that life in a great capital is essential to the development of genius, but frankfort was the largest town goethe ever lived in, and he never visited either paris or london. much of the sanity of his genius may have been due to his residence in so tranquil a place as weimar, where he could shut himself up in his "garden-house" and lock all the gates of the bridge over the ilm. "the solitude," says mr. lewes, "is absolute, broken only by the occasional sound of the church clock, the music from the barracks, and the screaming of the peacocks spreading their superb beauty in the park." few men of genius have been happier in their surroundings than goethe. he had tranquillity, and yet was not deprived of intellectual intercourse; the scenery within excursion-distance from his home was interesting and even inspiring, yet not so splendid as to be overwhelming. we know from his conversations that he was quite aware of the value of those little centres of culture to germany, and yet in one place he speaks of béranger in the tone which seems to imply an appreciation of the larger life of paris. "fancy," he says, "this same béranger away from paris, and the influence and opportunities of a world-city, born as the son of a poor tailor, at jena or weimar; let him run his wretched career in either of the two small cities, and see what fruit would have grown on such a soil and in such an atmosphere." we cannot too frequently be reminded that we are nothing of ourselves, and by ourselves, and are only something by the place we hold in the intellectual chain of humanity by which electricity is conveyed to us and through us--to be increased in the transmission if we have great natural power and are favorably situated, but not otherwise. a child is born to the vecelli family at cadore, and when it is nine years old is taken to venice and placed under the tuition of sebastian zuccato. afterwards he goes to bellini's school, and there gets acquainted with another student, one year his junior, whose name is barbarelli. they live together and work together in venice; then young barbarelli (known to posterity as giorgione), after putting on certain spaces of wall and squares of canvas such color as the world had never before seen, dies in his early manhood and leaves vecellio, whom we call titian, to work on there in venice till the plague stays his hand in his hundredth year. the genius came into the world, but all the possibilities of his development depended upon the place and the time. he came exactly in the right place and precisely at the right time. to be born not far from venice in the days of bellini, to be taken there at nine years old, to have giorgione for one's comrade, all this was as fortunate for an artistic career as the circumstances of alexander of macedon were for a career of conquest. letter iii. to an artist who was fitting up a magnificent new studio. pleasure of planning a studio--opinions of an outsider--saint bernard--father ravignan--goethe's study and bed-room--gustave doré's studio--leslie's painting-room--turner's opinion--habits of scott and dickens--extremes good--vulgar mediocrity not so good--value of beautiful views to literary men--montaigne--views from the author's windows. nothing in the life of an artist is more agreeable than the building and furnishing of the studio in which he hopes to produce his most mature and perfect work. it is so pleasant to labor when we are surrounded by beauty and convenience, that painters find a large and handsome studio to be an addition to the happiness of their lives, and they usually dream of it, and plan it, several years before the dream is realized. only a few days ago i was talking on this very subject with an intellectual friend who is not an artist, and who maintained that the love of fine studios is in great part a mere illusion. he admitted the necessity for size, and for a proper kind of light, but laughed at carved oak, and tapestry, and armor, and the knicknacks that artists encumber themselves with. he would have it that a mind thoroughly occupied with its own business knew nothing whatever of the objects that surrounded it, and he cited two examples--saint bernard, who travelled all day by the shore of lake leman without seeing it, and the _père_ ravignan, who worked in a bare little room with a common table of blackened pine and a cheap rush-bottomed chair. on this i translated to him, from goethe's life by lewes, a passage which was new to him and delighted him as a confirmation of his theory. the biographer describes the poet's study as "a low-roofed narrow room, somewhat dark, for it is lighted only through two tiny windows, and furnished with a simplicity quite touching to behold. in the centre stands a plain oval table of unpolished oak. no arm-chair is to be seen, no sofa, nothing which speaks of ease. a plain hard chair has beside it the basket in which he used to place his handkerchief. against the wall, on the right, is a long pear-tree table, with bookshelves, on which stand lexicons and manuals.... on the side-wall again, a bookcase with some works of poets. on the wall to the left is a long desk of soft wood, at which he was wont to write. a sheet of paper with notes of contemporary history is fastened near the door. the same door leads into a bed-room, if bed-room it can be called, which no maid-of-all-work in england would accept without a murmur: it is a closet with a window. a simple bed, an armchair by its side, and a tiny washing-table with a small white basin on it, and a sponge, is all the furniture. to enter this room with any feeling for the greatness and goodness of him who slept here, and who here slept his last sleep, brings tears into our eyes, and makes the breathing deep." when i had finished reading this passage, my friend exclaimed triumphantly, "there! don't you see that it was just because goethe had imaginative power of a strong and active kind that he cared nothing about what surrounded him when he worked? he had statues and pictures to occupy his mind when it was disengaged, but when he wrote he preferred that bare little cell where nothing was to be seen that could distract his attention for an instant. depend upon it, goethe acted in this matter either from a deliberate and most wise calculation, or else from the sure instinct of genius." whilst we were on this subject i thought over other instances, and remembered my surprise on visiting gustave doré in his painting-room in paris. doré has a gothic exuberance of imagination, so i expected a painting-room something like victor hugo's house, rather barbarous, but very rich and interesting, with plenty of carved cabinets, and tapestry, and _biblos_, as they call picturesque curiosities in paris. to my surprise, there was nothing (except canvases and easels) but a small deal table, on which tubes of oil-color were thrown in disorder, and two cheap chairs. here, evidently, the pleasure of painting was sufficient to occupy the artist; and in the room where he made his illustrations the characteristics were simplicity and good practical arrangements for order, but there was nothing to amuse the imagination. mr. leslie used to paint in a room which was just like any other in the house, and had none of the peculiarities of a studio. turner did not care in the least what sort of a room he painted in, provided it had a door, and a bolt on the inside. scott could write anywhere, even in the family sitting-room, with talk going forward as usual; and after he had finished abbotsford, he did not write in any of its rich and noble rooms, but in a simple closet with book-shelves round it. dickens wrote in a comfortable room, well lighted and cheerful, and he liked to have funny little bronzes on his writing-table. the best way appears to be to surround ourselves, whenever it can be conveniently done, with whatever we know by experience to be favorable to our work. i think the barest cell monk ever prayed in would be a good place for imaginative composition, and so too would be the most magnificent rooms in chatsworth or blenheim. a middling sort of place with a philistine character, vulgar upholstery, and vulgar pictures or engravings, is really dangerous, because these things often attract attention in the intervals of labor and occupy it in a mean way. an artist is always the better for having something that may profitably amuse and occupy his eye when he quits his picture, and i think it is a right instinct which leads artists to surround themselves with many picturesque and beautiful things, not too orderly in their arrangement, so that there may be pleasant surprises for the eye, as there are in nature. for literary men there is nothing so valuable as a window with a cheerful and beautiful prospect. it is good for us to have this refreshment for the eye when we leave off working, and montaigne did wisely to have his study up in a tower from which he had extensive views. there is a well-known objection to extensive views, as wanting in snugness and comfort, but this objection scarcely applies to the especial case of literary men. what we want is not so much snugness as relief, refreshment, suggestion, and we get these, as a general rule, much better from wide prospects than from limited ones. i have just alluded to montaigne,--will you permit me to imitate that dear old philosopher in his egotism and describe to you the view from the room i write in, which cheers and amuses me continually? but before describing this let me describe another of which the recollection is very dear to me and as vivid as a freshly-painted picture. in years gone by, i had only to look up from my desk and see a noble loch in its inexhaustible loveliness, and a mountain in its majesty. it was a daily and hourly delight to watch the breezes play about the enchanted isles, on the delicate silvery surface, dimming some clear reflection, or trailing it out in length, or cutting sharply across it with acres of rippling blue. it was a frequent pleasure to see the clouds play about the crest of cruachan and ben vorich's golden head, gray mists that crept upwards from the valleys till the sunshine suddenly caught them and made them brighter than the snows they shaded. and the leagues and leagues of heather on the lower land to the southward that became like the aniline dyes of deepest purple and blue, when the sky was gray in the evening--all save one orange-streak! ah, those were spectacles never to be forgotten, splendors of light and glory, and sadness of deepening gloom when the eyes grew moist in the twilight and secretly drank their tears. and yet, wonderful as it was, that noble and passionately beloved highland scenery was wanting in one great element that a writer imperatively needs. in all that natural magnificence humanity held no place. hidden behind a fir-clad promontory to the north, there still remained, it is true, the gray ruin of old kilchurn, and far to the south-west, in another reach of the lake, the island-fortress of ardhonnel. but there was not a visible city with spires and towers, there were only the fir-trees on the little islands and a few gravestones on the largest. beyond, were the depopulated deserts of breadalbane. here, where i write to you now, it seems as if mankind were nearer, and the legends of the ages written out for me on the surface of the world. under the shadow of jove's hill rises before me one of the most ancient of european cities, _soror et æmula romæ_. she bears on her walls and edifices the record of sixty generations. temple, and arch, and pyramid, all these bear witness still, and so do her ancient bulwarks, and many a stately tower. high above all, the cathedral spire is drawn dark in the morning mist, and often in the clear summer evenings it comes brightly in slanting sunshine against the steep woods behind. then the old city arrays herself in the warmest and mellowest tones, and glows as the shadows fall. she reigns over the whole width of her valley to the folds of the far blue hills. even so ought our life to be surrounded by the loveliness of nature--surrounded, but not subdued. footnote: [ ] how purely this is the misery of a man of culture! a peasant would not have gone so far. index. abolition of custom, how to effect, abstinence from newspaper reading, accomplishments, masculine and feminine, accumulation of preparatory knowledge, accumulators, great, of money, activity, mere, a waste of time, adult brain, the, advantages of few authors to poor, -- of experience, affectations of caste, affirmations based upon authority, african traveller and map-makers, alcibiades, education of, alphabet, greek, amateurism, ampère, profoundly scientific, -- anecdote of, amusement, necessity of, analytical observation, value of, anatomy, difficulty of study, ancients, incorrect use of word, -- and moderns compared, application and opportunities, arabia, use of coffee, archimedes in the bath, -- at syracuse, aristocracy, liberal and illiberal, -- unwritten religious law of, -- and democracy, -- spirit of, in reading, arnold, dr., quoted, , -- definition of religion, -- intellectual force, arnold, matthew, "self-dependence" quoted, art of reading, -- of resting, artist, idea of happy marriage, artistic conception of black coats, artists, drudgery of, -- poor critics, arts, practical pursuit of, assimilating power of brain, assimilation, power of, association of ideas, atheism, popular construction, athenian education, attraction of the future, author in mortal disease, to an, -- and tradesman compared, -- his advice about notes, -- his study described, authors, dependence upon private means, -- young, eagerness of, -- selfishness of, -- condition since goldsmith's time, authorship, privilege of, available knowledge, baker, sir samuel, and wife, balzac's method in literature, barbarian notions, return to, bargeman's wife, example of, basis, moral, the, baudelaire, charles, quoted, beckford, mr., author of "vathek," -- two thousand slaves labor for, beer, use of, belgian school of painting, bixio, alexandre, death-bed, black coats artistic at dinner table, blessing of good, cheap literature, boar-hunt, the author at, bodily exercise, neglect of, body and brain, close connection, book-making differs from literature, books and newspapers, bossuet, _bourgeoisie_, low condition, brain and body, close connection, brain work unfavorable to digestion, "bramleighs, the," quoted, bruno, giordano, passion for philosophy, -- constant work of, buckland, mrs., bunyan, results of solitude, burns, quoted, -- separation from culture, -- injustice of, byron, cause of his death, -- aristocracy of, -- poetical inspiration of, capacity and preference, relation, careers aided by wealth, carelessness, danger of, carpenter, dr., surrenders practice for science, caste, prejudices of, catholic church power in th century, -- roman, belief of, central passion of men of ability, chance acquaintances, character, positive or negative end, "character" quoted, charity, intellectual, chemist, a product of industrial communities, chemistry, intellectual, children, imitative power, -- proper division of time, child-teaching, christian, muscular, to a, christianity, fashionable, church of rome, embodiment of tradition, -- service to european civilization, class jealousy, classical accomplishments, clergy at variance with scientists, -- english, -- restrictions of, -- injustice and inaccuracy of, clerical profession, advantages, -- incompatible with intellectual freedom, code of customs constitutes law, coffee and tea, use of, colloquial use of language, communard's hatred of superiority, communicativeness of chance acquaintances, community, intelligent, is conservative, compensation, principle of, completeness of education, composition, drudgery of, comte, auguste, laments consequences of anxiety, -- atheist and scientist, -- voluntary isolation of, -- abstinence from newspapers, -- mysticism of, condescension, intellectual advised, conjugal felicity, degrees of, contemporary literature, indifference to, contempt for skill, -- for trade, continent, absence of gentlemen, controversy, unfairness of, conversation of women, -- between the sexes, -- generally dull, cookery, science of, copernicus, monument at warsaw, correspondents, the two contrasted, cotton-manufacturer, letter to, cotton-trade, effect on the mind, country people, ignorance of, cream and curacoa, creative faculty may be commanded, critical faculty of english clergy, critics, artists as, culture, moral utility, -- proper limitations of, -- how rich may best serve its cause, -- of middle classes, -- independent of sex, -- induces sincerity, -- hostility of democracy, -- high, isolates, -- facilities for obtaining, -- individual, national gain, curate, poor, in prosperous community, custom and tradition, -- the one law of society, -- a necessary aid to religion, custom nature's provision for reform, -- precious legacy of the past, -- not final, but a form, -- opposition unphilosophical, -- how to procure abolition, -- resistance sometimes imperative, cuvier, a model student, decline of old prejudices, democracy and aristocracy, -- envious, -- its levelling _down_ tendency, -- intolerance of, -- metropolitan and provincial, -- hostile to culture, de saussure, labors of, de sénancour, -- quoted, descent of man, de stael, madame, literary methods, development of natural gifts, -- of faculty, deviation produced by marriage, dickens, narrowness of, -- study described, discipline necessary to success, -- object of, -- value and necessity, -- of a professional career, discussions with ladies, best course, disease, effect of mental labor, diseased, experience of, disinterestedness, most essential virtue, displacement of native tongue, dissatisfaction of cultured persons, distinctions in trade, disuse of native tongue, diversity of belief in religion, domestic picture, a, doré, gustave, painting-room, dress-coat, the young gentleman lacking, drill, intellectual, advantages of, drinks, question of, drudgery in all work, dullness of general conversation, dunces, illustrious, dürer, albert, _melencolia_, duty, occasional, of eccentricity, -- of cultured men to society, eagerness of young authors, eccentricity sometimes a moral duty, -- sometimes an intellectual duty, ecclesiastical authority, remarkable decline, economy of time, education, -- use of the word, -- completeness of, -- want of thoroughness and reality, -- of sexes compared, -- fashionable, educator, professional, practice the best, egotism of the uneducated mother, electricity practically annihilates distance, elevation of intellectual life, emerson's rule, empire, second, vulgarity of, Énault, louis, study of languages, encouragement to the poor student, energy, human, limitation of, english officer in paris, -- strong to resist voluptuousness, -- recognize refining influence of wealth, -- gentry, free expenditures, -- gentleman, methods of culture, -- clergy, criticism of literature, -- tradesman, anecdote of, -- correspondent quoted, englishman, eminent, poor remuneration, engraving, _ennui_ in work, equality, theoretic, erdan, m., letters by, essential virtue, disinterestedness, chief, etchers, the woes of, etiquette of society bar to intellectual advance, european civilization, service of church, -- governments resist power of church, excesses, intellectual, dangers of, excitement, cerebral, intellectual products, exercise, bodily, need of, exeter, bishop of, quoted, experience, the lesson, -- advantages of, experiment replaces tradition, experiments on public taste, facilities for obtaining culture, facility of acquiring languages, faculty, development of, fane, julian, religion of, -- late hours, faraday, intellectual career, , -- a sandemanian, fashionable education, -- religion, fickleness of fashion, fine arts, technical difficulties, -- pursuit of, five facts regarding languages, france, invasion by germans, -- intellectual isolation, -- vulgar language of people, -- low condition of _bourgeoisie_, french monarchy, question of, -- college, to a principal of, -- cook, perfection of art, -- officer, incident of, -- peasantry, intellectual apathy, -- peasantry, parsimony, -- peasantry without newspapers, -- school of painting, -- students of english, isolated, frenchman writes a school-primer with good results, fresco-painters, troubles of, friendships of the intellect, reality of, -- succession of, future, attraction of, galton, mr., advice to travellers, garibaldi, italian follower of, generation, our, poetical events, genius, popular impression of, -- military, of napoleon, -- dependent upon culture, gentlemen, absence of, on continent, german invasion of france, germans, intellectual labor of, germany, secular power resists ecclesiastical, girardin, st. marc, "_give it time_," goethe, habits of, -- pecuniary independence, -- intellectual activity, -- interest in intellectual labor, -- production of _werther_, -- at bombardment of verdun, goldsmith, oliver, elaborate dress, good use of opportunity, -- and cheap literature, government patronage of intellectual pursuits, -- and priests lack harmony, great problem of human life, greek, general view of, -- uselessness in industry and commerce, -- alphabet, imaginary terrors, growing old, the rapidity of, habits, sure to be acquired, hack-writing, heine, last years of, helps, sir arthur, quoted, , hermit, experience of, highland scenery lacks humanity, historians, partiality of, -- future, value of journalist, historical party in england, -- party in france, honesty, importance of, _note_, -- value of, -- foundation of intellectual life, hoogstraten and rembrandt, hours of idleness, household, intellectual level of, how to learn a language, -- women help men, hugo, victor, intellectual decadence, human energy, limitation of, -- race, longevity, humboldt, alexander, intellectual greatness, humboldt, alexander, fortune servant of ambition, -- in south america, -- youth of, hurry, evil consequences of, huxley, professor, quoted, hygienics, intellectual, ideal division of life, ideas, association of, -- ratio of narrowness, idleness, hours of, -- value of, illusions, popular, concerning languages, immorality of intellectual people, inapplicability of past experience, incompatibility, fashionable and intellectual life, incongruous associations, indirect uses of study, indolent men who like to be hurried, industrial classes, results of their labor, infallibility of the pope, infraction of custom, penalties, ingres, counsel to pupils, ingres, madame, the first, inspiration, sister of daily labor, -- waiting for, instinct of accumulation, -- of solitude, intellect does not recognize authority, intellectual and religious questions, difference, -- attainments of two houses of parliament, -- class necessary, -- deviations resulting from marriage, -- kingdom, difficult entrance of the rich, -- life, inward law, intellectual requirements of, -- foundation, difficulty, -- differs from religious life, -- based upon personal investigation, -- a solitary one, -- absence of caste, -- man rebels against custom, -- two courses open in marriage, -- methods independent of tradition, -- nature of women, intellectual natures need intellectual activity, -- progress, necessity of, -- reaction against money making, -- religion, foundations of, -- religion, search and result, -- separation of the sexes, -- stupidity of amassing money, -- workers, suggestions to, international marriages, interruption, evils of, intolerance of democracies, intoxication, literary, invasion of france by germans, inventions a factor in politics, -- mainly due to men, inward law of intellectual life, irregular verbs, time-wasters, irrigation, intellectual, isolation of high culture, italian deserter, the, jacquemont, victor, letters of, japanese, revolution of thought and practice, jealousy of class, johnson, dignity of his threadbare sleeves, joubert, -- productive power, -- quoted, journalism in england, journalist, value to future historians, journals, party, injustice of, kant, immanuel, habits of, keats, genius dependent upon culture, kepler, early struggles, knight service in society, knowledge of mankind, -- selection of, labor, pecuniary rewards of, -- of previous ages, disdain for, -- dominant and subordinate, -- of preparation, _lalla rookh_, moore's trials, language, latin as a common, language, facility of acquisition, -- in france, vulgarity of, languages, popular illusions, -- five facts, -- separation of, late hours, latin, modern ignorance of, -- island, a, latinist, the modern, law, complex code of customs, -- of society, lawyers, superiority of, in certain directions, lay element of europe, powerful, legal profession, advantages of, leslie's studio, levels, intellectual, lever, charles, quoted, lewes' "life of goethe" quoted, , -- quoted, lewis, john, practice work of, life, an ideal division of, limited knowledge and experience of the poor, limitation of human energy, line-engraver, labor of, linguist, the modern, listening, the art of, literature, to a student of, -- good and cheap, -- criticism of english clergy, -- contemporary, indifference to, literary intoxication, littré quoted, locality, mental effect of, locke quoted, loitering element in liberal education, longevity, young men careless of, -- of human race, lost opportunities, louvre, wanton destruction of, love, necessity of, lullo, raimond, oriental missionary, "luxury," article in cornhill magazine, -- quoted, lytton, robert, letter of lady westmorland, -- estimate of julian fane, man unlike a planet, -- need of pluck, mankind, operations of riches and poverty, -- best knowledge of, marriage, -- true, a slow intergrowth, -- general ignorance regarding, -- complex effects, -- of intellectual men, -- a distinguished artist's views, -- ideal for man of literary culture, -- intellectual, -- how decided, -- of french professors, -- of the scotch lawyer, -- the intellectual ideal, -- the necessity of keeping up its interest, -- frequently leads to intellectual deviation, -- risk of eccentric men, -- semi-publicity, marriages, international, maximilian, emperor, execution of, mediæval builders, medicine, profession of, meissonier, practice for self-instruction, "melencolia" of albert dürer, memory, defective, advantage of, -- selecting, -- rational art of, men, how helped by women, -- disguise their thoughts from women, mental labor not injurious to healthy persons, -- may aggravate disease, mental stimulants, -- refusals should be heeded, -- powers, immoderate use, -- work, physical preparation, metaphor of the mountains, "midshipman easy," allusion to, military genius of napoleon, -- profession, -- profession, intellectual poverty of, milton, forced retirement, mind of a fashionable person, minds, three classes, miracles, belief in, miscalculation, bad results, miscellaneous reading, our debt to, mitford, miss, quoted, mobility of fashionable taste, modern education, -- inventions, power of, -- languages, to student of, -- languages, limits of soundness, -- mind looks forward, _modern painters_, result of long study, -- work of genius and wealth, money, the influences of, -- restraints of, -- the guardian of peace, -- accumulated labor of the past, -- protector of intellectual life, montaigne, early education of, -- purchases of books, -- his tower, moore's trials with "lalla rookh," moral basis, the, -- utility of culture, morality, individual theories, -- public opinion regulates, -- general advance of, morbid mind, cure for, morris, a diligent student, mother and son, difference in religious views, -- the uneducated, mulready, preparation for new picture, multiplicity of modern studies, muscular christian, to a, music, refining influence of, , -- limits of soundness, napoleon, military genius of, napoleon iii., overthrow of, national intellectual life, native tongue, results of disuse, natural connection between wealth and culture, -- gifts, development of, -- laws, independent working, nature, extraordinary reactions, -- high life in, nature, provision for intellectual life in marriage, -- _will_ be obeyed, naval profession, navy, english, reconstruction of, neapolitan servant, case of, necessity a help in industrial pursuits, -- disturbs higher intellectual life, , need of society and solitude, negative end of character, -- qualification for work, neighbors, education of, newspaper reading, abstinence from, newspapers as educators, -- daily house-talk of the world, -- in united states, -- in france, newton, desire for solitude, nervous system, physiological action, nightingale, florence, quoted, night-work, medical objection to, noblesse, old, ignorance of, nomad, english, life of, nomadic habits of higher classes, obedience to nature, necessity of, object of intellectual discipline, occasion, mistaken estimates, opposition to custom unphilosophical, -- of method between intellect and faith, oil painting, dangers of, old prejudices declining, opportunities lost, -- unlimited, danger of, -- and application, origin of discipline, orleans, duchess of, -- system of mental culture, orthodoxy no guaranty of intellectual capacity, outlet, intellectual, necessary, painters, intellectual discipline of, painting, different schools, palgrave's, mr., "travels in arabia," papacy, decline and fall of temporal power, papal infallibility, paris, siege of, parliament, houses of, high attainments, parsimony of french peasantry, party journals, injustice, past, custom a precious legacy, -- not reliable as a guide, patriotism as a stimulant, peasants, instruction of, pecuniary rewards of labor, pendennis, major, typical life, _philistine_ intellects, philosophy, popular acceptation of term, -- a truly intellectual, physical basis, the, -- repugnances of surgeons, -- preparation for mental labor, physician, social rise of, physiological action of nervous system, pioneers, intellectual, planet, dissimilarity of man to, plans should be well arranged, pluck, value of, poet, the true, poetical events of our generation, -- teachings, true intentions, political influence of culture, politics, preponderance in newspapers, polyglot waiters, poor, limited knowledge and experience, -- incompetent for work of parliament, -- independence of public opinion, -- man desirous of culture, consolation, pope of rome, affirmed infallibility, popular illusions regarding languages, -- impression regarding genius, positive end of character, poverty and peace incompatible, -- unfavorable to intellectual life, -- advantage in liberal professions, -- obstacle to intellectual perfection, power of assimilation, -- of time, practical suggestions to intellectual workers, practice, best professional as educator, -- of journalism, preference and capacity, relation, prejudices of caste, -- old, decline of, preparatory labor, prescott, mr., instance of, preservation of the senses, , priests, manner of religious teaching, -- and government not harmonious, prince consort, example and influence, problem, great, of life, products of cerebral excitement, professions, liberal, advantages of poverty, -- test of, -- and trades, -- purpose of, progress, satisfactions of, -- its debt to rebellion, -- of work, interest necessary, propositions about modern languages, protection in intellectual pursuits, public taste, experiments on, -- opinion, regulator of morality, -- opinion in france, purpose of a profession, qualifications for work, railways, unforeseen effect, rational art of memory, ravignon, _pere_, reactions of nature, reading, miscellaneous, advantage of, -- painful to uneducated, -- newspapers, abstinence from, -- practised by most people, rebellion, debt of progress to, reconciliation of poverty and the soul, refinements of a language, reform and progress of custom, refusals, mental, should be heeded, regret for lost time, regularity of work, regulated economy of time, relation between preference and capacity, -- of trivial events to great principles, religion as a stimulant, -- requires aid of custom, -- different views of mother and son, -- indefinable, -- according to popular instinct, -- intellectual foundation of, -- influence of caste-law, religious vitality, periods of, -- teaching, -- and intellectual questions, difference, -- creed does not weaken critical faculty, -- belief, test of, rembrandt, answer to hoogstraten, renan, m., charges second empire with vulgarity repugnances to be overcome, resisting power of adult brain, rest, necessary in intellectual labor, resting, the art of, restoration of french monarchy, restraints of money, retreats demanded by intellectual life, return to barbarism, rich man a director of work, -- social diversions of, -- vulgar people, road to success, commonly gradual increase, roman catholic, belief of, romans, education of, roscoe, william, italian studies, rosse, lord, colossal telescope, -- useful application of wealth, rossini, advice to young composer, ruskin, mr., value of artistic perception, -- extract from _modern painters_, -- wealth of material, -- career of, sacerdotal system, sadness of intellectual workers, sainte beuve, example of self-discipline, -- system of living, -- atheist and scientist, -- quoted, saint-bernard at lake leman, saint-hilaire, geoffroy, in blindness, saint-hilaire, geoffrey, at alexandria, sand, george, working under pressure, -- quoted, -- novel of "valvèdre," satisfactions of intellectual riches, schiller, literary hack-work of, schoolmaster, thankless office of, science, methods and laws of, -- requires heat and heroism, -- of living, scientific cookery, importance of, -- writers and thinkers, independence, -- at variance with clergy, scott, sir walter, physical exercise, -- habits of, -- writing-closet, secular power resists ecclesiastical, selection of knowledge, selfishness of authors, senses, usefulness to intellectual life, separation of languages, shelley, boating exercise, -- the morality of, -- writings unprofitable, -- desire for solitude, ships of the line, old, shopkeepers, treatment by english authors, siege of paris, silent student, attainments, simon jules, allusion to, sincerity induced by culture, skill, indifference to, skip judiciously in reading, small talk in england and france, smiles, mr., _character_ quoted, smith, sydney, quoted, -- common sense of, smoking, moderate and excessive, social diversions of the rich, society, penalties for infringing custom, -- _will be obeyed_, -- desires harmony, -- and solitude, -- fashionable demands, -- external deference to culture, solitude and society, -- traditional view of, -- effects upon man, soul and poverty, reconciliation, soundness, requisite to best success, spain, secular power resists ecclesiastical, spenser, the fables of, state schools, exclusion of theology, station fetters intellect, steam makes cities of states, stimulants, effects of, -- mental, stone in glen croe, the, structural relations of languages, student, the poor, encouragement, -- the poor, sad story, -- dangers of society, study, indirect uses of, -- of medicine, substitution of experiment for tradition, success, result of discipline, -- common road, gradual increase, sue, eugene, daily habits, surgeon, social rise of, surroundings of cultivated men, , swiss gentleman, anecdote of, systematic arrangement of work, taste, public, experiments on, tea and coffee, use of, teachings, poetical, true intentions, telescope, colossal, of lord rosse, temptations of wealth, test of religious belief, theology, exclusion from state schools, theoretic equality amongst men, thiers, antecedents of, -- elevation of, thoughts upon "government" quoted, thrift, the principle of, tillier, claude, doctrine of, time, the power of, -- loss of, -- mistaken estimates, -- regulated economy, titian, early surroundings, tobacco, use of, trade distinctions, -- contempt for, trades and professions, tradition and custom, -- rejected for experiment, -- decline of authoritative influence, -- church of rome, embodiment, -- in industrial and fine arts, _note_, training, intellectual, tranquillity conducive to intellectual success, travellers, mr. galton's advice, triumph of discipline, trivial events, relation to great principles, truth a law of religion, turner's studio, tyco brahe, princely ease, -- surroundings of, ultramontane party, undisciplined writer, to an, united states, influence of newspapers, unknown element of all problems, unproductive class, the, utility, moral, of culture, "valvèdre," extract from, variety of labor for children, various pursuits, objection to, _vathek_, written at a single sitting, -- author of, vatican, council of, vinci, leonardo da, education of, waiting for inspiration, want hinders intellectual pursuits, warsaw, monument to copernicus, wealth, double temptation of, -- an obstacle to labor, -- inordinate respect for, _werther_ indicative of goethe's _ennui_, westmorland, lady, letter to robert lytton, why men choose their wives, wine, use of, wives of french professors, women and marriage, -- how they help men, -- incapacity for solitary mental labor, -- intellectual nature of, -- absence of scientific curiosity, -- rarity of invention among, -- lack inherent force for advance, -- do not hear the truth from men, -- conversation of, wordsworth, love of pedestrian excursions, -- failure as a london journalist, -- happy results of a legacy, -- advice to tourists, work, systematic arrangement desirable, _work_, article in cornhill magazine, world recognizes performance only, woepke, franz, remarkable extent of studies, -- mathematician and orientalist, -- pension of italian prince, writing against time, -- as a profession, young men careless of longevity, household education. household education. by harriet martineau. london: edward moxon, dover street. mdcccxlix. london bradbury and evans, printers, whitefriars. preface. a portion of this work appeared, some months ago, in papers in the people's journal. the appearance of these papers was suspended by the change in the affairs of that journal. from that time to the present, applications have been made to me at intervals, to request me to finish my subject. in deference to these requests, i have completed my original design. for its suggestion, i am indebted to mr. saunders, the late editor of the people's journal. for the imperfections of the work, which i know to be many and great, notwithstanding my earnest interest in what i was writing, no one is responsible but myself. ambleside, _november th, _. contents. chap. page i. old and young in school ii. what the schooling is for iii. the natural possessions of man iv. how to expect v. the golden mean vi. the new comer vii. care of the frame viii. care of the powers.--will ix. hope x. fear xi. patience xii. patience. infirmity xiii. patience. infirmity xiv. love xv. veneration xvi. truthfulness xvii. conscientiousness xviii. intellectual training.--its requisites xix. order of development. the perceptive faculties xx. the conceptive faculties xxi. the reasoning faculties. female education xxii. the imaginative faculties xxiii. care of the habits.--importance of habit xxiv. personal habits xxv. family habits xxvi. conclusion household education. chapter i. old and young in school. household education is a subject so important in its bearings on every one's happiness, and so inexhaustible in itself, that i do not see how any person whatever can undertake to lecture upon it authoritatively, as if it was a matter completely known and entirely settled. it seems to me that all that we can do is to reflect, and say what we think, and learn of one another. this is, at least, all that i venture to offer. i propose to say, in a series of chapters, what i have observed and thought on the subject of life at home, during upwards of twenty years' study of domestic life in great variety. it will be for my readers to discover whether they agree in my views, and whether their minds are set to work by what i say on a matter which concerns them as seriously as any in the world. once for all, let me declare here what i hope will be remembered throughout, that i have no ambition to teach; but a strong desire to set members of households consulting together about their course of action towards each other. it will be seen by these last words that i consider all the members of a household to be going through a process of education together. i am not thinking only of parents drawing their chairs together when the children have gone to bed, to talk over the young people's qualities and ways. that is all very well; but it is only a small part of the business. i am not thinking of the old, experienced grandfather or grandmother talking at the fireside, telling the parents of the sleeping children how they ought to manage them, and what rules and methods were in force in their day. this is all very well; and every sensible person will be thankful to hear what the aged have to tell, out of their long knowledge of life: but this again is a very small part of the matter. every member of the household--children, servants, apprentices--every inmate of the dwelling, must have a share in the family plan; or those who make it are despots, and those who are excluded are slaves. of course, this does not mean that children who have scarcely any knowledge, little judgment, and no experience, are to have a choice about the rules of their own training. the object of training is one thing; and the rules and methods are another. with rules and methods they have nothing to do but to obey them till they become able to command themselves. but there is no rational being who is not capable of understanding, from the time he can speak, what it is to wish to be good. the stupidest servant-girl, and the most thoughtless apprentice-boy, are always impressed by seeing those about them anxious to improve; and especially the oldest of all endeavouring the more to become wiser and wiser, better and better, as their few remaining days dwindle away. if the family plan therefore be the grand comprehensive plan which is alone worthy of people who care about education at all--a plan to do the best that is possible by each other for the improvement of all--every member of the family above the yearling infant must be a member of the domestic school of mutual instruction, and must know that he is so. it is a common saying that every child thinks his father the wisest man in the world. this is very natural; as parents are their children's fountains of knowledge. to them their children come for anything they want to know: and by them they are generally satisfied. but every wise parent has occasion to say, now and then--"i do not know, my dear." the surprise of the child on first hearing that there is anything that his parents do not know fixes the fact in his mind. when he has once discovered that his parents have something more to learn, he becomes aware--and this also ought to be fixed in his mind--that their education is not finished; and that it is their business, as it is his, to learn something more every day, as long as they live. so much for knowledge. the case ought to be as clear to him with regard to goodness. it is not enough that in church he hears that all men and women are sinners; and that in prayers at home he hears his parents pray that they may become more worthy of the goodness of god, and more like the christ who is set before them. these things may set him thinking; but there will be, or ought to be, more light every day to clear up his ideas. the same parents who honestly own to their child that they are ignorant of things about which he questions them will own to him that they are not nearly so good as they wish to be. thus is the truth opened to the feeblest and smallest mind that education has still to go on, even when people are so inconceivably old as children are apt to think their parents. to us, grown up to this mighty age, there can be no doubt on such a point. we know very well that we are all, through the whole range of society, like a set of ignorant and wayward children, compared with what we are made capable of being. our best knowledge is but a glimmering--a dawn of light which we may hope will "increase more and more unto the perfect day." our best goodness is so weak, so mixed, so inferior to what we can conceive of, that we should blush to say that during any day of our lives we had been as good as we ought to be. it is as clear to us as to children, that there is room for improvement in both ways as long as we live. to us there is another question which children cannot enter into, and have no present business with;--whether human beings remain capable of improvement as long as they live. about this, there are different opinions. i rather think the prevailing belief is that they are not; and that this prevailing belief arises from the commonness of the spectacle, not only of the faults of old age, but of the inability of even amiable and lively old people to receive new ideas, or correct bad habits. this is certainly the commonest aspect of old age; and serious is the warning it affords to correct our faulty tempers and ways before we grow stiff in mind, as well as in body. but i do not think that this spectacle settles the question. we might as well say that the human intellect can achieve no great work after five-and-twenty, because the ill-educated mind never does. as long as we see one single instance of a mind still expanding in a man of eighty-five, of a temper improving in one of ninety, of a troublesome daily habit conscientiously cured, after the indulgence of a life-time, by an old lady of seventy-five, we perceive that education may go on to the extreme limit of life, and should suppose that it might be generally so, but for the imperfect training of preceding years. i have known of one old man whose mind was certainly still growing when he died, at the age of eighty-six. i have known of another, whose study through life had been the laws of the mind, and who, when his faculties were failing him, applied himself to _that_ study, marking the gradual decline of certain of his powers, adding the new facts to his stores of knowledge, and thus, nourishing to the last a part of his mind with the decay of the rest. this instance of persevering self-improvement under conditions which any one would admit to be those of release from labour, appears to me even more affecting than that of the great physician who watched his own approaching death with his finger on his pulse, notifying its last beat as his heart came to a stop, hoping to contribute one more fact to useful science. with cases like these before us, how shall we dare to suppose our education completed while we have one faculty remaining, or our hearts have yet one more beat to give? as for the continuance of moral education to the last, i have seen two contrasted cases, in close neighbourhood, which make the matter pretty plain, in a practical sense, to me. i knew two old ladies, living only the length of a street apart, who were fair specimens of educated and uneducated old age. the one belonged to a family who were remarkable for attaining a great age; and she always confidently reckoned on her lot being the same as that of her predecessors. it is true, her mother, being above a hundred, called her and her sister "the girls" when they were above seventy; but still one would have thought that grey hairs and wrinkles would have gone some way as a warning to her. instead, however, of reckoning on her future years (if she must reckon on them) as so much time to grow wiser in, she was merely surprised at her friends when they advised her (she being then eighty) to make some other terms for her house than taking another lease of fourteen years. she could not conceive, as the last lease had answered so well, why the next should not. i remember seeing her face, all puckered with wrinkles, surmounted by rows of bright brown false curls, and her arms, bare above the elbows, adorned with armlets, such as young ladies wore half a century before. i remember a clever pert youth setting himself to quiz and amuse her by humouring her in her notions about the state of the world, drawing her out to praise the last century and express her ignorant contempt of this, till she nodded emphatically over her hand of cards, and declared that the depravity of the age was owing to gas-lamps and macadamisation. she died very old, but no wiser than this. her case proves only that her education did stop; and not that it need have stopped. the other was a woman of no great cultivation, but of a humble, earnest, benevolent nature, full of a sense of duty towards god and man; and, in them, towards herself. having survived her nearest connections, she had no strong desire to live; and her affairs were always arranged for departure, down to the labelling of every paper, and the neatness of every drawer. yet no one was more alive to the improvements of the modern world. i shall never forget the earnest look with which she would listen to any tidings of new knowledge, or new social conveniences. a more dignified woman i never knew; yet she listened to the young who brought information--listened as a learner--with a deference which was most touching to witness. but there was more than this. she was conscious of having been, in her earlier days, somewhat hard, somewhat given to lecture and lay down the law, and criticise people all round by family notions; a tendency which, if it really existed, arose from family and not personal pride; for, though she might overrate the wisdom of parents and brothers, there never was any sign of her overvaluing her own. however this might be, she believed that she had been hard and critical in former times; and she went on softening and growing liberal to the day of her death. i never observed any weakness--much less any laxity--in her gentleness towards the feeble and the frail. it was the holy tenderness which the pure and upright can afford to indulge and impart. the crowning proof that her improvement was the result of self-discipline and not of circumstances was that when, at above seventy years of age, she became the inmate of a family whose habits were somewhat rigid, and in many respects unlike her own, she changed her own to suit theirs, even forcing herself to an observance of punctuality, in which she had been deficient all her life, and about which she had scarcely ever needed to think while for many years living alone. of course, this moral discipline implies some considerable use of the intellect. she read a good deal; and carried an earnest mind into all her pursuits. and when her memory began to fail, and she could not retain beyond the day what she had read, her mind did not become weak. it was always at work, and always on good subjects, though she could no longer add much to her store of mere knowledge. her case proves surely that education need never stop. now, if we picture to ourselves a household, with an honoured being like this as the occupant of the fireside chair, we can at once see how it may be completely understood and agreed upon among them all that the education of every one of them is always going on, and to go on for ever while they live. no child could ever stand at the knee of my old friend without feeling that she was incessantly bent on self-improvement--as earnest to learn from the humblest and youngest as ready to yield the benefits of her experience and reflections to any whom she could inform and guide. when taken severely ill, she said with a smile, to one by her bedside, "why do you look so anxious? if i do die to-day, there is nothing to be unhappy about. i have long passed the time when i expected to go. what does it matter whether i die now or a twelve-month hence?" and when that illness was over, she regarded it as a process in her training, and persevered, as before, in trying to grow wiser and more worthy. here was a case in which household education visibly included the oldest as naturally as the youngest. and in all dwellings, all the members _are_ included in the influences which work upon the whole, whether they have the wisdom to see it or not. henceforward, therefore, i shall write on the supposition that we are all children together--from the greatest to the least--the wisest and the best needing all the good they can get from the peculiar influences of home. chapter ii. what the schooling is for. every home being a school for old and young together, it is necessary, if the training is to be a good one, to be clear as to what the schooling is for. for the improvement of the pupils, is the most obvious answer. yes; but what do you mean by improvement? we must settle what we want to make of the pupils, or everything will go on at random. in every country of the world there is some sort of general notion of what the men and women in it ought to be: and the men and women turn out accordingly: and the more certainly, the more clear the notion is. the patriarchs, some thousands of years ago, had very clear notions of their own of what people ought to be. one of these sitting in the evening of a hot day under a terebinth tree ten times his own age, would be able to give a distinct account of what he would have the training of his great-grandchildren tend to. he would lay it down as the first point of all that the highest honour and the greatest privilege in the world was to be extremely old. the next most desirable thing was to have the largest possible number of descendants; because the earth was very wide, with not half enough people in it; and the more people a patriarch had about him, the richer and more beautiful would the valleys and pastures be, and the more power and authority he would have--every patriarch being an absolute ruler over his own family, and the more like a king the larger his tribe. of course, the old man would say decidedly that to make the best possible man you must train a child to obey his parents, and yet more the head of the tribe, with the most absolute submission; to do in the cleverest way what was necessary for defence against an enemy, and to obtain food, and the skins of beasts for clothing. the more wives and the more children the better. these were the principal points. after these, he would speak of its being right for such as would probably become the head of a tribe to cultivate such wisdom and temper as would make them good rulers, and enable them to maintain peace among their followers. such was the patriarchal notion of improving a man to the utmost--omitting certain considerations which we think important,--truthfulness, temperance, amiability, respect for other men, and reverence for something a good deal more solemn than mere old age. some wise men in greece would have given a different account of the aim of education. a spartan, for instance, living in a little country which was always in danger from enemies without and slaves within, looked upon every boy as a future soldier, and as born to help to preserve the state. every sickly or deformed child might be killed off at the desire of his father's kin. the healthy and promising were looked after by the state from their earliest years; and at the age of seven were put under public training entirely. they were taught to bear hunger, and be content with coarse food; to endure flogging without a groan, sometimes to the point of death; and all for practice in bearing pain. they were trained to all warlike exercises; their amusements were wrestling and sham battles; their accomplishments singing martial songs. they were taught to reverence rank and age; to hate their enemies; to use fraud in war; to be unable to bear shame, whether deserved or not; and to treat women with respect, not at all for their own sakes, but because despised women could not be the mothers of heroes. thus, to make a perfect soldier was what a good spartan considered the great object of education. the jew in his own palestine would have given a different answer, in some respects, though he also reared his children to hate their enemies, and to covet both martial and patriarchal glory. his leading belief was that a greater god than any other nation had ever worshipped was the special ruler and protector of his own. jehovah was the king as well as the god of the jews; and the first virtue of a jew was to obey every tittle of the law, which ordered all things whatsoever in the lives of those who lived under it. obedience to the law, in affairs of food, dress, seasons of work, sleep, worship, journeying, &c., as well as in some higher matters, was the main thing taught by a good parent, while he knew and thought nothing of the higher and holier aims opened by the gospel; of which, indeed, many a well-meaning jewish parent could not bear to hear from the lips of christ, when he came to declare what every man should be. when he declared that men should rise above the law, and be perfect as their father in heaven is perfect, some strict jewish educators crucified him. in a jew's mind, the best man was he who most servilely obeyed the letter of the law. when i was in america, i saw three kinds of people who had their own notions of what it was to be a perfect man--each their own idea of the chief aim in education; notions as wide of each other as those of the patriarch, the spartan, and the jew. there were the dwellers in the cities; men speaking our language, and looking very like ourselves. these men were, as was natural, proud of their young and prosperous republic; and they thought more about politics than appears to us necessary or wise in a life which contains so many other great interests. their children were brought up to talk politics before they could be qualified to have an opinion; and taught at school to despise other nations, and glorify their own, as a preparation for exercising the suffrage at twenty-one, and thereby becoming, in a republic so constituted, a member of the government. the privilege--the trust--is a most important one; and we cannot wonder that the subject is an engrossing one to parents and children. the object of education among a very large proportion of american parents is to make politicians: and it certainly is attained. on the same continent, i saw something of a very different race--the red men. their idea of perfection is a man's being a perfect warrior; and yet in a way quite unlike the spartans. the red indian is not trained as a servant of the state, but as an individual: and the indian women are degraded and oppressed, while the spartan women were considered and respected--whatever the ground of consideration might be. the indian boy is trained to use his five senses till they reach an unequalled degree of nicety. and, when old enough to bear the pain without dying, he is subjected first to hunger and want of sleep, and then to such horrible tortures as it turns one sick to think of. he who comes out of this trial the most bravely, and who afterwards shows himself the most alert sentinel, the strongest and most enduring soldier, the most revengeful enemy, the most cruel conqueror, and the sternest husband and father, is, in the eyes of his people, the most perfect man. the red indians, therefore, generally make an approach to this kind of character. in the island of mackinaw lives the other sort of people i have referred to. this island rises out of the wide waters of the great northern lakes, a perfect paradise in the midst of the boundless blue expanse. the people who inhabit it are, for the most part, half-breeds--the offspring of the red race and the french colonists who first settled on the island. the great object here seems to be to become amphibious; and truly, it appeared to me pretty well attained. the dark-skinned boys who surrounded our ship, and all others that i saw, were poppling about in the water, as easily as so many fowl: and they scud about in their tiny birch-bark canoes as readily as we walk on our feet, thinking no more of being capsized than we do of falling. the aim here has about the same level as that of the arabs, to whom water is the greatest rarity, and to whom the sandy desert serves much the same purpose as the inland seas to the dwellers in mackinaw. the horse of the arab is to him as the bark-canoe to the half-breed of mackinaw: and children are launched into the desert, to live in it as they best may, as the half-breed boys are into the watery waste. and they succeed as well, conquering the desert, turning its dangers into sport, and making a living out of it. and so it is with the native dwellers in the icy deserts of siberia. a perfectly educated person there is one who can surprise the greatest number of water-fowl in summer, foretell soonest the snow storm in winter, best learn the hour from the stars, bank up the most sheltered sleeping-place in the snow, and light a fire within it the most quickly; dive among the beavers for the longest time; see in the dark like an owl, track game like a pointer, fetch it like a spaniel, hearken like a deer, and run like an ostrich. such being the mongolian notion of perfection, it is more nearly approached by them than by others. none of these aims are ours, or such as we approve. what then is ours? it is easy to answer, "to grow wiser and better every day:" but then comes the question, what is the wisdom, what is the goodness, that we aspire to? all the people i have mentioned aim at improvement in wisdom and goodness every day. our difference with them is precisely about what wisdom and goodness are. we are not likely to agree by setting up each our own notion of wisdom and goodness. hear children at school talking of the heroes they admire most, and see how seldom they agree. one admires the brave man; another the patient man; another the philanthropist; another the man of power; another the man of holiness; another the patriot. hear men talking by the fireside of the sages of the race; how they vary in their preferences, and select for themselves from among the group of mighty minds--the fathers of philosophy, of science, of art, of law and government, of morals. we shall never arrive at a practical point by setting up our separate preferences as aims for all. nor will it answer to fix our aim by any single example: no, not even--with reverence be it spoken--by the great exemplar, christ himself. the fault and weakness of this inability are in ourselves. it is not any cloud in him, but partial blindness in us, which renders this method insufficient by itself. all-perfect as is the example, we cannot all, and constantly, use its full perfection, from our tendency to contemplate it from the favourite point of view which every one of us has. one of us dwells most on the tenderness of his character; another on its righteous sternness; one on his power; another on his meek patience; and so on. and thus, while it is, and ever will be, of the utmost importance that we should preserve the aim of becoming like christ, it yet remains to be settled among us, in fact though not perhaps in words, what christ was, the images of him in different minds varying so endlessly as they certainly do. the only method that appears to me absolutely safe and wise, is one which perfectly well agrees with our taking this great exemplar as our model. each of us has a frame, "fearfully and wonderfully made;" with such a variety of powers, that no one yet knows them all, or can be sure that he understands the extent of any one of them. it is impossible that we can be wrong in desiring and endeavouring to bring out and strengthen and exercise all the powers given to every human being. in my opinion, this should be the aim of education. i have said "to bring out, and strengthen, and exercise all the powers." some would add, "and balance them." but if all were faithfully exercised, i am of opinion that a better balance would ensue than we could secure, so partial as are our views, and so imperfect as has been the training of the best of us. i shall gladly proceed, in my next chapter, to declare what i think we have learned as to what the powers of the human being are. at present, i can only just point out that the aim proposed is superior to every other mentioned, and i believe to any other that can be mentioned for this reason; that it applies universally--meets every case that can be conceived of. in the patriarch's scheme of education, the women--half the race--were slighted. in the spartan system, the slaves and all work-people were left out. among the modern republicans, citizens have the preference over women and slaves: and under the savage training--the indian, arab, and mongolian--no individual whatever is done justice to. and there is not a country in christendom where equal justice is done to all those whom we see entering the world so endowed as that we ought to look on every one of them with religious awe as a being too noble for our estimate. the aim proposed--of doing justice to all the powers of every human being under training--includes all alike, and must therefore be just. it includes women, the poor, the infirm--all who were rejected or slighted under former systems--while it does more for the privileged than any lower principle ever proposed to do. it appears that under it none will be the worse, but all the better, in comparison of this with any lower aim. to obtain a clearer and firmer notion of what this object really comprehends, we must next make out, as well as our present knowledge allows, what the powers of the human being are. i mean as to their kind; for i do not think any one will venture to say what is the extent of endowments so vast; and in their vastness so obscure. chapter iii. the natural possessions of man. what are the powers of the human being? i speak of those powers only which are the object of education. there are some which work of themselves for the preservation of life, and with which we have nothing to do but to let them work freely. the heart beats, the stomach digests, the lungs play, the skin transpires, without any care of ours, and we have only to avoid hindering any of these actions. next, man has four limbs. of these, two have to be trained to move him from place to place in a great variety of ways. there are many degrees of agility between the bow-legged cripple, set too early upon his feet, and the chamois hunter of the alps, who leaps the icy chasms of the glacier, and springs from point to point of the rock. the two seem hardly to be of the same race; yet education has made each of them what he is. the two other limbs depend upon training for much of their strength and use. look at the pale student, who lives shut up in his study, never having been trained to use his arms and hands but for dressing and feeding himself, turning over books, and guiding the pen. look at his spindles of arms and his thin fingers, and compare them with the brawny limbs of the blacksmith, or the hands of the quay porter, whose grasp is like that of a piece of strong machinery. compare the feeble and awkward touch of the book-worm who can hardly button his waistcoat, or carry his cup of tea to his mouth, with the power that the modeller, the ivory carver, and the watchmaker have over their fingers. it is education which has made the difference between these. man has five senses. though much is done by the incidents of daily life to exercise all the five, still a vast difference ensues upon varieties of training. a fireman in london, and an indian in the prairie, can smell smoke when nobody else is aware of it. an epicure can taste a cork in wine, or a spice in a stew, to the dismay of the butler, and the delight of the cook, when every one else is insensible. one person can feel by the skin whether the wind is east or west before he gets out of bed in the morning; while another has to hold up a handkerchief in the open air, or look at the weathercock, before he can answer the question--"how's the wind?" as for the two noblest senses, there are great constitutional differences among men. some are naturally short-sighted, and some dull of hearing; but the differences caused by training are more frequent and striking. if, of two boys born with equally good eyes and ears, one is very early put, all alone, to keep sheep on a hill side, where he never speaks or is spoken to, and comes home only to sleep, and the other works with his father at joiner's work, or in sea-fishing, or at a water-mill, they will, at manhood, hardly appear to belong to the same race. while the one can tell veneer from mahogany in passing a shop-window, the other cannot see any difference between one stranger's face and another's. while the sleepy clown cannot distinguish sea from land half a mile off, the fisherman can see the greyest sail of the smallest sloop among the billows on the horizon. while the shepherd does not hear himself called till the shout is in his ear, the miller tells by the fireside, by the run of the water, whether the stream is deepening or threatening to go dry. of course, the quickness or slowness of the mind has much to do with these differences of eye and ear; but besides that, the eye and ear differ according to training. the miller, with his mind and ear all awake, would hear, with all his efforts, only four or five birds' notes in a wood, where a naturalist would hear twenty; and the fisherman might declare the wide air to be vacant, when a mountain sportsman would see an eagle, like a minute speck, indicating by its mode of flight where the game lay below. man has a capacity for pleasure and pain. this is an all-important part of his nature of which we can give no account, because it is incomprehensible. how he feels pleasure and pain, and why one sensation or thought delights him and another makes him miserable, nobody ever knew yet, or perhaps ever will know. it is enough for us that the fact is so. of all the solemn considerations involved in the great work of education, none is so awful as this--the right exercise and training of the sense of pleasure and pain. the man who feels most pleasure in putting brandy into his stomach, or in any other way gratifying his nerves of sensation, is a mere beast. one whose chief pleasure is in the exercise of the limbs, and who plays without any exercise of the mind, is a more harmless sort of animal, like the lamb in the field, or the swallow skimming over meadow or pool. he whose delight is to represent nature by painting, or to build edifices by some beautiful idea, or to echo feelings in music, is of an immeasurably higher order. higher still is he who is charmed by thought, above everything--whose understanding gives him more satisfaction than any other power he has. higher still is he who is never so happy as when he is making other people happy--when he is relieving pain, and giving pleasure to two, or three, or more people about him. higher yet is he whose chief joy it is to labour at great and eternal thoughts, in which lies bound up the happiness of a whole nation and perhaps a whole world, at a future time when he will be mouldering in his grave. any man who is capable of this joy, and at the same time of spreading comfort and pleasure among the few who live round about him, is the noblest human being we can conceive of. he is also the happiest. it is true that his capacity for pain is exercised and enlarged, as well as his power of feeling pleasure. but what pains such a man is the vice, and folly, and misery of his fellow-men; and he knows that these must melt away hereafter in the light of the great ideas which he perceives to be in store for them: while his pleasure being in the faith of a better future is as vivid and as sure as great thoughts are clear and eternal. for an illustration of this noblest means of happiness, we had better look to the highest instance of all. i have always thought that we are apt to dwell too much on the suffering and sorrow of the lot and mind of christ. our reverence and sympathy should be more with his abounding joy. i think those who read with clear eyes and an open mind will see evidences of an unutterable joy in his words--may almost think they hear it in his tones, when he promised heaven to the disinterested and earth to the meek, and satisfaction to the earnest; when he welcomed the faith of the centurion, and the hope of the penitent, and the charity of the widow; when he foresaw the incoming of the gentiles, and knew that heaven and earth should pass away sooner than his words of life and truth. the sufferings of the holy can never surely transcend their peace: and whose fulness of joy can compare with theirs? before man can feel pleasure or pain from outward objects or from thoughts, he must perceive them. to a new-born infant, or a blind person enabled to see for the first time, objects before the eyes can hardly be said to exist. the blue sky and a green tree beside a white house are not seen but as a blotch of colours which touches the eye. this is the account given by persons couched for cataract, who have never before seen a ray of light. they see as if they saw not. but the power is in them. by degrees they receive the images, and perceive the objects. a child learns to receive sounds separately; then to perceive one voice among others; then to distinguish one tone from another--the voice of soothing from that of playfulness--the tone of warning from that of approbation; then it receives thoughts through the sounds; and so on, till the power is exercised to the fullest extent that we know of--when distinct ideas are admitted from the minutest appearances or leadings--strange bodies detected in the heavens, and fresh truths in the loftiest regions of human speculation. it depends much on training whether objects and thoughts remain for life indistinct and confused before the perceptive power, as before infant vision, or whether all is clear and vivid as before a keen and practised eye. we know not how memory acts, any more than we understand how we feel pleasure and pain. but we all know how the power of recalling images, words, thoughts, and feelings, depends on exercise. a person whose power of memory has been neglected has little use of his past life. the time, and people, and events that have passed by have left him little better than they found him: while every day, every person, and every incident deposits some wealth of knowledge with him whose memory can receive and retain his experience. then there are other powers which it will be enough merely to mention here, as we shall have to consider them more fully hereafter. man has the power, after perceiving objects and thoughts, to compare them, and see when they differ and agree; to penetrate their nature, and understand their purpose and action. it is thus that he obtains a knowledge of creation, and the curious powers, whether hidden or open to view, which are for ever at work in it. he can reason from what he knows to what he has reason to suppose, and put his idea to the proof. he can imitate what he sees; and also the idea in his mind; and hence comes invention; and that wise kind of guess into what is possible which leads to great discovery; discovery sometimes of a vast continent, sometimes of a vast agency in nature for men's uses, sometimes of a vast truth which may prove a greater acquisition to men's souls than a new hemisphere for their habitation. man has also a wonderful power of conceiving of things about which he cannot reason. we do not know how it is, but the more we dwell on what is beautiful and striking, what is true before our eyes and impressive to our minds, the more able we become to conceive of things more beautiful, striking, and noble, which have never existed, but might well be true. none of our powers require more earnest and careful exercise than this grand one of the imagination. those in whom it is suppressed can never be capable of heroic acts, of lofty wisdom, of the purest happiness. those in whom it is neglected may exercise the little power they have in a fruitless direction, probably aggravating their own faults, and certainly wasting the power on ideas too low for it, as the voluptuary who dreams of selfish pleasure, or the despot, grand or petty, who makes visions of unchecked tyranny. those in whom it is healthily exercised will become as elevated and expanded as their nature admits, and one here and there proves a mahommed, lifting up half the human race into a higher condition; or a raffaelle, bringing down seraphs and cherubs from heaven, and so clothing them as that men may look upon them and grow like them; or a shakspere who became a creator in that way which is truly no impiety, but, on the contrary, the highest worship. men are apt, in all times and everywhere, to blaspheme, by attributing to god their own evil passions and narrow ideas. it is through this power of the imagination that they rise to that highest ideal which is the truest piety. they rise to share godlike attributes; the prophet seeing "the things that are not as though they were," and the poet creating beings that live and move and have their being, immortal in the mind of man. such a power resides more or less in every infant that lies in the bosom of every family. alas for its guardians if they quench this power, or turn it into a curse and disease by foul feeding! then, the emotions of men are so many powers, to be recognised and trained. of the power of hope there is no need to speak, for all see what it is as a stimulus, both in particular acts, and through the whole course of a life. fear is hardly less important, though it is intended to die out, or rather to pass into other and higher kinds of feeling. a child who has never known a sensation of fear (if there be such an one) can never be a man of a high order. he must either be coarsely made in body, or unable to conceive of anything but what is familiar to him. a child whose heart beats at shadows and the fitful sounds of the invisible wind, and who hides his face on his mother's bosom when the stars seem to be looking at him as they roll, is no philosopher at present; but he is likely to grow into one if this fear is duly trained into awe, humility, thoughtfulness, till, united with knowledge, it becomes contemplation, and grows into that glorious courage which searches all through creation for ultimate truth. out of fear, too, grows our power of pity. without fear of pain, we could not enter into the pain of others. fear must be lost in reverence and love: but reverence and love could never be so powerful as they ought to be, if they were not first vivified by the power of fear. what the power of love is, in all its forms, there is no need to declare to any one who has an eye and a heart. in the form of pity, how it led howard to spend his life in loathsome prisons, crowded with yet more loathsome guilt! in other forms, how it sustains the unwearied mother watching through long nights over her wailing infant! how it makes of a father, rough perhaps to all others, a holy and tender guardian of his pure daughters! and how it makes ministering angels of them to him in turn! how we see it, everywhere in the world, making the feeble and otherwise scantily-endowed strong in self-denial, cheerful to endure, fearless to die! a mighty power surely is that which, breathing from the soul of an individual man, can "conquer death, and triumph over time." then there is in man a force by which he can win and conquer his way through all opposition of circumstance, and the same force in others. this power of will is the greatest force on earth--the most important to the individual, and the most influential over the whole race. a strong will turned to evil lets hell loose upon the world. a strong will wholly occupied with good might do more than we can tell to bring down heaven into the midst of us. if among all the homes of our land, there be one infant in whom this force is discerned working strongly, and if that infant be under such guardianship as to have its will brought to bear on things that are pure, holy, and lovely, to that being we may look as to a regenerator of his race. he may be anywhere where there are children. are there any parents who will not look reverently into the awful nature of their children, search into their endowments, and try of every one of them whether it may not be he? if not he, it is certain that every one of them is a being too mysterious, too richly gifted, and too noble in faculties not to be welcomed and cherished as a heaven-sent stranger. how can we too carefully set in order the home in which it is to dwell? chapter iv. how to expect. whatever method parents may choose for educating a child, they must have some idea in their minds of what they would have him turn out. even if they set before them the highest aim of all--exercising and training all his powers--still they must have some thoughts and wishes, some hopes and fears, as to what the issue will prove to be. in all states of society, the generality of parents have wished that their children should turn out such as the opinion of their own time and country should approve. there is a law of opinion in every society as to what people should be. we have seen something of what this opinion was among the patriarchs of old, the spartans, the jews, and others. in our own day, we find wide differences among neighbouring nations, civilised, and so-called, christianised. the french have a greater value for kindness and cheerfulness of temper and manners than the english, and a less value for truth. the russians have a greater value for social order and obedience, and less for honesty. the americans have a greater value for activity of mind and pursuits, and less for peace and comfort. in these and all other countries, parents in general will naturally desire that their children should turn out that which is taken for granted to be most valuable. an ordinary english parent of our time, who had not given much thought to the subject, would wish that his son should turn out as follows. he would wish that the child should be docile and obedient, clever enough to make teaching him an easy matter, and to afford promise of his being a distinguished man; truthful, affectionate, and spirited; that as a man he should be upright and amiable, sufficiently religious to preserve his tranquillity of mind and integrity of conduct: steady in his business and prudent in his marriage, so far as to be prosperous in his affairs. now, this looks all very well to a careless eye: but it will not satisfy a thoughtful mind. in all the ages and societies we have spoken of, there have been a few men wiser than the average, who have seen that the human being might and ought to be something better than the law of opinion required that he should be. there are certainly hindoos now living and meditating who do not consider that men are so good as they might be, while they think no harm of lying and stealing, and who are sorry for the superstition which makes it an unpardonable crime to hurt a cow. there are men among the americans who see virtue in repose of mind, and moderation of desires to which the majority of their countrymen are insensible. and so it is in our country. we are all agreed, from end to end of society, that truthfulness, integrity, courage, purity, industry, benevolence, and a spirit of reverence for sacred things are inexpressibly desirable and excellent. but when it comes to the question of the degree of these good things which it is desirable to attain, we find the difference between the opinion of the many and that of the higher few. a being who had these qualities in the highest degree could not get on in our existing society without coming into conflict with our law of opinion at almost every step. if he were perfectly truthful, he must say and do things in the course of his business which would make him wondered at and disliked; he might be unable to take an oath, or enter into any sort of vow, or sell his goods prosperously, or keep on good terms with bad neighbours. if he were perfectly honourable and generous, he might find it impossible to trade or labour on the competitive principle, and might thus find himself helpless and despised among a busy and wealth-gathering society. if he were perfectly courageous, he might find himself spurned for cowardice in declining to go to war or fight a duel. if he were perfectly pure, he might find himself rebuked and pitied for avoiding a mercenary marriage, and entering upon one which brings with it no advantage of connexion or money. if the same purity should lead him to see that though the virtue of chastity cannot be overrated, it has, for low purposes, been made so prominent as to interfere with others quite as important: if he should see how thus a large proportion of the girlhood of england is plunged into sin and shame, and then excluded from all justice and mercy; if, seeing this, he is just and merciful to the fallen, it is probable that his own respectability will be impeached, and that some stain of impurity will be upon his name. if he is perfectly industrious, strenuously employing his various faculties upon important objects, he will be called an idler in comparison with those who work in only one narrow track; as an eminent author of our time was accused by the housemaid, who was for ever dusting the house, of "wasting his time a-writing and reading so much." just so the majority of men who have one sort of work to do accuse him of idleness who has more directions for his industry than they can comprehend. if he is perfectly benevolent, he cannot hope to be considered a prudent, orderly, quiet member of society. he will be either incessantly spreading himself abroad, and spending himself in the service of all about him, or maturing in retirement some plan of rectification which will be troublesome to existing interests. if he be perfectly reverent in soul, looking up to the loftiest subjects of human contemplation with an awe too deep and true to admit any mixture of either levity or superstition, he will probably be called an infidel; or at least, a dangerous person, for not passively accepting the sayings of men instead of searching out the truth by the faithful use of his own powers. thus we see how in our own, as in every other society, the law of opinion as to what men should be agrees in the large, general points of character with the ideas of the wisest, while there are great differences in the practical management of men's lives. the perplexity to many thoughtful parents is what to wish and aim at. now, it must never be forgotten that it is a good thing that there must everywhere be such a law of opinion on this subject, though it necessarily falls below the estimate of the wisest. some rule and method in the rearing of human beings there must be; and if some are dwarfed under it, many more have a better chance than they would have if it were not a settled matter that truth, courage, benevolence, &c., are good things. till the constitution and training of the human being are better and more extensively understood than they are, the general rule is something to go by, as the product of a general instinct; and it will work upon nearly all those who are born under it, so as to bring them into something like order. in our country, there is, i suppose, scarcely a den so dark as that its inhabitants really think no harm whatever of lying and stealing, or consider them merits, as is the case in some parts of the world. while we have among us far too many who thieve and cheat, and quarrel, and drink, we can scarcely meet with any who do not think these things wrong, or have not thought so before they were too far gone in them. on the whole, the law of opinion, though far below what the wise see it might be, is a great benefit, and a thing worthy of serious regard in fixing our educational aims. this prevalent opinion being a good thing as far as it goes, having its origin in nature, there can be no doubt that a good education, having also its origin in nature, would issue in a sufficient accordance with it for purposes of social happiness. as human beings are born with limbs and senses whose thorough exercise brings them out in a high state of bodily perfection, they are born with powers of the brain which, thoroughly exercised, would, in like manner, bring them out as great, mentally and morally, as their constitution enables them to be. there must ever be innumerable varieties, as no two infants could ever be said to be born perfectly alike; and perhaps no two adults could be found who had precisely the same powers of limb and sense: but out of this infinite variety must come such an amount of evidence as to what is best in human character as would constitute a law of opinion, higher than the present, but agreeing with it in its main points. let us conceive of a county of england where every inhabitant should be not only saved from ignorance, but having every power of body and mind made the very most of. the variety would appear much greater than anything we now see. there would be more people decidedly musical, or decidedly mechanical, or decidedly scientific: more who would occupy their lives with works of benevolence, or of art, or of ingenuity: more who would speculate boldly, speak eloquently, and show openly their high opinion of themselves, or their anxiety for the good opinion of others. the more variety and the greater strength of powers, the clearer would be the evidence before all eyes of what is really the most to be desired for men. it would come out more plainly than now that it is a bad and unhappy thing for men to have immoderate desires for money, or luxury, or fame, or to have quarrelsome tendencies, or to be subject to distrust and jealousy of others, or to be afraid of pain of body or mind. it would be more plain than ever that there is a soulfelt charm and nobleness and happiness in a spirit of reverence, of justice, of charity, of domestic attachment, and of devotion to truth. thus, in such a society, there would be an agreement, more clear and strong than now, in all the best points of our present law of opinion, while there would be fuller scope for carrying up the highest qualities of the human being to their perfection. moreover, as men are made every where with a general likeness of the powers of the mind, as with the same number of limbs and senses, there must come out of a thorough exercise of their faculties a sufficient agreement as to what is best to generate a universal idea of duty or moral good. no varieties of endowment can interfere essentially with this result. the hindoo has slender arms, with soft muscles, and cannot do the hard work which suits the german peasant: yet both agree as to what arms are for, and how they are to be used. the red indian can see, hear, smell, and taste twice as well as factory children or plough-boys; yet all will agree that it is a good thing to have perfect sight and hearing. and, in the same way, the african may have less power of thought than the englishman; and the englishman may have less genius for music than the african: but not only is the african able to think, more or less, and the englishman to enjoy music, but they will agree that it is a good thing to have the highest power of thought, and the greatest genius for music. in the same manner, again, one race, as well as one individual, may have more power of reverence, another of love, another of self-reliance; but all will agree that all these are inestimably good. it follows from this, that parents must be safe in aiming at thoroughly exercising and training all the powers of a child. if it would be safest for all to do so, in the certainty that the result would be in accordance with the best points of the law of opinion, it must be a safe practice for individuals; and they may proceed in the faith that their work (if they do it well) will turn out a noble one in the eyes of the men of their own day, while they are doing their best to help on a clearer and brighter day, when the law of opinion will itself be greatly ennobled. here i must end my chapter. but i must just say a word to guard against any hasty supposition that when i speak of exercising (as well as training) all the human powers thoroughly, i contemplate any indulgence of strong passions or of evil inclinations. it cannot be too carefully remembered that what i am speaking of is human powers or faculties; and that every power which a human being possesses may be exercised to good, and is actually necessary to make him perfect. it will be my business hereafter to show what this exercise and training should be. chapter v. the golden mean. it is a large subject that we have to treat;--that of household education; for the main part of every process of education is carried on at home, except in the instance of boarding-schools, where a few years are spent by a small number of the youth of our country. the queen was brought up under a method of household education; and so was, no doubt, the last pauper who went to his grave in a workhouse coffin. elizabeth fry was brought up at home; so was the most ignorant and brutish convict that was blessed by the saving light of her pitying eye. sir isaac newton, to whom the starry heavens were as a home-field for intellectual exercises, was reared at home; and so were the poor children in the durham coal-pits in our own time, who never heard of god, and indeed could not tell the names of their own fathers and mothers. if thus, the loftiest and the lowliest, the purest and the most criminal, the wisest and the most ignorant, are comprehended under the process of household education, what a wide and serious subject it is that we have to consider! the royal child must, of course, be trained wholly at home; that is, little princes and princesses cannot be sent to school. but, while reared in the house with their parents, the influences they are under scarcely agree with our ideas of home. the royal infant does not receive its food from the bosom first, or afterwards from the hands of its mother. she does not wash and dress it; and those sweet seasons are lost which in humbler homes are so rich in caresses and play, so fruitful in endearing influences both to mother and child. it is a thing to be remarked and praised by a whole court, if not a whole kingdom, if a royal mother is seen with her child in her arms; while the cottager's child is blessed with countless embraces between morning and night, and sleeps on its mother's arm or within reach of her eye and voice. the best trained royal child is disciplined to command of temper and manners; made to do little services for people about him, and sedulously taught that a child should be humble and docile. but the young creature is all the while taught stronger lessons by circumstances than can ever come through human lips. he sees that a number of grown persons about him are almost wholly occupied with him, and that it is their business in life to induce him to command his temper and manners. he feels that when he is bid to fetch and carry, or to do any other little service, it is not because such service is wanted, but for the sake of the training to himself. he is aware that all that concerns him every day is a matter of arrangement, and not of necessity; and a want of earnestness and of steady purpose is an inevitable consequence. this want of natural stimulus goes into his studies. i believe no solitary child gets on well with book-learning as a part of the business of every day. the best tutors, the best books, the quietest school-room, will not avail, if the child's mind be not stirred and interested by something more congenial than the grammar and sums and maps he has to study. and every royal child is solitary, however many brothers and sisters he may have older and younger than himself. he has his own servants, his own tutor, his own separate place and people, so that he can never be jostled among other children, or lead the true life of childhood. and so proceeds the education of life for him. he can never live amidst a large class of equals, with whom he can measure his powers, and from among whom he may select congenial friends. he passes his life in the presence of servants, has no occupations and no objects actually appointed to him, unless his state be that of sovereignty, in which case his position is more unfavourable still. he dies at last in the midst of that habitual solitude which disables him from conceiving, even at such a moment, of the state in which "rich and poor lie down together." such a being may, if the utmost has been done for him, be decent in his habits, amiable in temper and manners, innocent in his pursuits, and religious in his feelings; but it is inconceivable that he can ever approach to our idea of a perfect man, with an intellect fully exercised, affections thoroughly disciplined, and every faculty educated by those influences which arise only from equal intercourse with men at large. the home education of the pauper child is no better, though there are few who would venture to say how much worse it is. a pauper child must (i think we may say) be unfortunate in its parentage, in one way or another. if it knows its parents, they must probably be either sickly, or foolish, or idle, or dissolute; or they would not be in a state of _permanent_ pauperism. the infant is reared (if not in the workhouse) in some unwholesome room or cellar, amidst damp and dirt, and the noises and sights of vice or folly. he is badly nursed and fed, and grows up feeble, or in a state of bodily uneasiness which worries his temper, and makes his passions excitable. he is not soothed by the constant tenderness of a decent mother, who feels it a great duty to make him as good and happy as she can, and contrives to find time and thought for that object. he tumbles in the dust of the road or the mud of the gutter, snatches food wherever he can get it, quarrels with anybody who thwarts him if he be a bold boy, and sneaks and lies if he be naturally a coward. he indulges every appetite, as a matter of course, as it arises; for he has no idea that he should not. he hates everybody who interferes with this license, and has the best liking for those who use the same license with himself. he knows nothing of any place or people but those he sees, and never dreams of any world beyond that of his own eyes. he does not know what society is, or law, or duty: and therefore, when he injures society, and comes under the inflictions of the law for gross violations of duty, he understands no more of what is done to him than if he was carried through certain ceremonies conducted in an unknown tongue. he has some dim notion of glory in dying boldly before the eyes of the crowd; so he goes to the gallows in a mocking mood, as ignorant of the true import of life and human faculties as the day he was born. or, if not laid hold of by the law, he goes on towards his grave brawling and drinking, or half asleep in mind, and inert or diseased in body, till at last he dies as the beast dies. here are the two extremes. the condition about half way between them appears to me to be the most favourable, on the whole, for making the most of a human being, and best fulfilling the purposes of his life. there are stations above and below highly favourable to the attainment of excellence; but, taking in all considerations, i think the position of the well-conditioned artisan the most favourable that society affords, at least, in our own day. there is much good in enlarged book-learning; in what is commonly called a liberal education. if united with hard and imperative labour--labour at once of head and hands--it will help to make a nobler man than can be made without it: but a liberal education, enlarged book-learning, ordinarily leads to only head work, without that labour of the hands which is the way to much wisdom. the benefits too are much confined to the individual, so that the children of the wisest statesman, or physician, or lawyer are only accidentally, if at all, the better for his advantages; while the best circumstances in the lot of the well-conditioned artisan are the inheritance and the privilege of his children. and again, the labourer may be so placed, in regard to employment, marriage, and abode, as that he may, possessing an awakened mind, be for ever learning great and interesting things from the book of nature and of scripture, while he has comfort in his home, and some leisure for training his children to his own work, and whatever else may turn up, so that they may grow up intelligent, dutiful, affectionate, and able continually to improve. the surgeon, the manufacturer, and the shop-keeper on the one hand, and the street porter, the operative, and the labourer on the other, may well work out the true purposes of life; but the condition which appears to me to be the meeting point of the greatest number of good influences is that of the best order of artisans. that condition affords the meeting point of book-knowledge, and that which is derived from personal experience. every day's labour of hand and eye is a page opened in the best of books--the universe. when duly done, this lesson leaves time for the other method of instruction, by books. during the day hours, the earnest pupil learns of nature by the lessons she gives in the melting fire, the rushing water, the unseen wind, the plastic metal or clay, the variegated wood or marble, the delicate cotton, silk, or wool; and at evening he learns of men--of the wise and genial men who have delivered the best parts of their minds in books, and made of them a sort of ethereal vehicle, in which they can come at a call to visit any secret mind which desires communion with them. and this privilege of double instruction is one which extends to the whole household of the chief pupil. the children of the artisan are happily appointed, without room for doubt, to toil like their father; and there is every probability that they will share his opportunity and his respect for book-knowledge. at the outset of life, they are tended by their mother, owing directly to her their food and clothes, their lullaby and their incitement to play. during the day, they are under her eye; and in the evening, they sit on their father's knee, and get knowledge or fun from him. in their busy home, all the help is needed that every one can give; so the real business of life begins early, and with it the most natural and best discipline. the children learn that it is an honour to be useful, and a comfort and blessing to be neat and industrious. so much more energy is naturally put into what must be done than into what it is merely expedient should be done, that the children are likely to exert their once-roused faculties to much better purpose than if their business was appointed to them for their own educational benefit. the little girl who tends the baby, or helps granny, or makes father's shirt, or learns to cook the dinner, is likely to put more mind into her work than if she were set to mark a sampler or make a doll's frock for the sake of learning to sew. and so with the boy who carries the coals for his mother, or helps his father in the workshop: he will become manly earlier and more naturally than the highborn child who sees no higher sanction for his occupations than the authority of his parents. and how dearly prized are the opportunities for book-study which can be secured! the children see what a privilege and recreation reading is to their father; and they grow up with a reverence and love for that great resource. the hope and expectation carry them through the tedious work of the alphabet and pothooks. and as they grow up, they are admitted to the magnificent privilege of fireside intercourse with the holy milton, and the glorious shakspeare, and many a sage whose best thoughts may become their ideas of every day. they thus obtain that activity and enlargement of mind which render all employments and all events educational. the powers, once roused and set to work, find occupation and material in every event of life. everything serves--the daily handicraft, intercourse with the neighbours, rumours from the world without, homely duty, books, worship, the face of the country, or the action of the town. all these incitements, all this material, are offered to the thoughtful artisan more fully and impartially than to such below and above him as are hedged in by ignorance or by aristocratic seclusion: and therein is his condition better than theirs. after having come to this conclusion, it is no small satisfaction to remember that the most favoured classes are the most numerous. so great a multitude is included in the middle classes, compared with the highborn and the degraded, that if they who have the best chance for wisdom will but use their privilege, the highest hopes for society are the most reasonable. chapter vi. the new comer. we may be perverse in our notions, and mistaken in our ways; but there are some great natural blessings which we cannot refuse. i reckon it a great natural blessing that the main events of human life are common to all, and that it is out of the power of man to spoil the privilege and pleasure of them. birth, love, and death, are beyond the reach of man's perverseness. they come differently to the wise and the foolish, the wicked and the pure: but they come alike to the rich and the poor. the infant finds as warm a bosom in which to nestle in the cottage as in the mansion. the bride and bridegroom know the bliss of being all the world to each other as well in their sunday walk in the fields as in the park of a royal castle. and when the mourners stand within the enclosure where "rich and poor lie down together," death is the same sad and sweet mystery to all the children of mortality, whether they be elsewhere the lowly or the proud. it may be said that the coming of the infant is not the same event to all, because some very poor people are heard to speak of it as a misfortune, and if the child dies, to rejoice that the lord has taken it to himself. it is true that some parents are heard to speak in this way; but i believe that the difference here is not between rich and poor, but between the wise and the foolish,--the trusting and the faithless. i have a right to believe this as long as i see that the hardest-working mother can be as tender and as cheerful as any other, and that the poorest man can be as conscientious a father as the richest. if the parents have been guilty of no fault towards their unborn child; if the child be the offspring of healthful and virtuous parents; and if they are calmly resolved to do all in their power for its good,--to earn its bread, to cherish its health, to open its mind, to nourish its soul, they have as good a right to rejoice in the prospect of its birth as anybody in the world. if they steadily purpose to do their full duty by their child, they may rely upon it that all the powers of nature will help them;--that in a world wrapped round with sweet air, and blessed by sunshine, and abounding with knowledge, the human being can hardly fail of the best ends of life, if set fairly forth on his way by those who are all to him in his helpless years. a doubt of this may be pardoned in parents too hard driven by adversity, who have lost heart, and think that to be poor is to be miserable: but the doubt is not reasonable or religious; and it is likely to be fatal to the child. i need not consider it further: for i write for those who have a high purpose and a high hope in rearing children. those who despond are unfit for the charge, and are not likely to enter into any consultation about it. to all who have this high purpose and hope, how interesting and how holy is this expectation of the birth of a human being! the mother is happy, and can wait. the father thinks the time long till he can take his infant in his arms, and lavish his love upon it. if there are already children, they are or should be made, happy by some promise of the new blessing to come. a serious hope it should be made to them, however joyful: a hope to be spoken of only in private seasons of confidence, when parents and children speak to each other of what they feel most deeply,--by the bedsides of the little ones at night, or in the quietest time of the sunday holiday. a serious hope it should be to all parties; for they should bring into the consideration the duties of labour and self-denial which lie before them, and the seasons of anxiety which they must undergo. before the parents lie sleepless nights, after days of hard work,--hours and hours of that weary suffering which arises from the wailing of a sick infant: and before the entire household the duty of those self-restraints which are ever due from the stronger to the weaker. amidst the anticipated joys of an infant's presence, these things are not to be forgotten. when the child is born, what an event is it in the education of the whole household! according to the use made of it is it a pure blessing, or a cause of pain and sin to some concerned. if it be the first child, there is danger lest it be too engrossing to the young mother. i believe it happens oftener than anybody knows, that the first conjugal discontents follow on the birth of the first child. the young mother trusts too much to her husband's interest in her new treasure being equal to her own;--a thing which the constitution of man's nature, and the arrangements of his business, render impossible. he will love his infant dearly, and sacrifice much for it if he remains, as he ought, his wife's first object. but if she neglects his comfort to indulge in fondling her infant, she is doing wrong to both. if her husband no longer finds, on his return from his business, a clean and quiet fireside, and a wife eager to welcome him, but a litter of baby-things, and a wife too busy up-stairs to come down, or too much engaged with her infant to talk with him and make him comfortable, there is a mischief done which can never be repaired. and if this infant be not the first, there is another person to be no less carefully considered,--the next youngest. i was early struck by hearing the mother of a large family say, that her pet was always the youngest but one; it was so hard to cease to be the baby! little children are as jealous of affection as the most enraptured lover; and they are too young to have learned to control their passions, and to be reasonable. a more miserable being can hardly exist than a little creature who, having been accustomed to the tenderness always lavished on the baby,--having spent almost its whole life in its mother's arms, and been the first to be greeted on its father's entrance, finds itself bid to sit on its little stool, or turned over to the maid, or to rough brothers and sisters to be taken care of, while everybody gathers round the baby, to admire and love it. angry and jealous feelings may grow into dreadful passions in that little breast, if great care be not taken to smooth over the rough passage from babyhood to childhood. if the mother would have this child love and not hate the baby, if she would have peace and not tempest reign in the little heart, she will be very watchful. she will have her eye on the little creature, and call it to help her to take care of the baby. she will keep it at her knee, and show it, with many a tender kiss between, how to make baby smile, how to warm baby's feet; will let it taste whether baby's food be nice, and then peep into the cradle, to see whether baby be asleep. and when baby is asleep, the mother will open her arms to the little helper, and fondle it as of old, and let it be all in all to her, as it used to be. this is a great piece of education to them both, and a lesson in justice to all who stand by. the addition of a child to the family circle is an event too solemn to be deformed by any falsehood. but few parents have the courage to be truthful with their children as to how the infant comes; a question which their natural curiosity always prompts. the deceptions usually practised are altogether to be reprobated. it is an abominable practice to tell children that the doctor brought the baby, and the like. it is abominable as a lie: and it is worse than useless. any intelligent child will go on to ask,--or if not to ask, to ponder with excited imagination,--where the doctor found it, and so on; and its attention will be piqued, and its mind injuriously set to work, where a few serious words of simple but carefully expressed truth, would have satisfied it entirely. the child must, sooner or later, awaken to an understanding of the subject; and it is no more difficult to impress him with a sense of decency about this, than about other things, that a well trained child never speaks of, but to its mother in private. the natural question once truthfully answered, the little mind is at rest, and free for the much stronger interests which are passing before its eyes. the first month of an infant's life is usually a season of great moral enjoyment to the household. everybody is disposed to bear and to do everything cheerfully for the sake of the new blessing. the father does not mind the discomforts of the time of his wife's absence from the table and the fireside, and makes himself by turns the nurse and the playfellow, to carry the children well through it. if granny be there, and not able to do much in the house, she gathers the little ones about her chair, and tells them longer stories than ever before, to keep them quiet. the children try with all their might to be quiet; and even the little two-year-old one struggles not to cry for company when baby cries, and learns a lesson in self-restraint. they look with respect on the maid or the nurse when they find that she has been up in the night, tending mother and baby, and that she looks as cheerful in the morning as if she had had good rest. and when they are permitted to study the baby, and to see how it jerks its little limbs about, and does not see anything they want it to see, and takes no notice of anything they say to it; and when they hear that their great strong father, so wise and so clever about his business, was once just such a helpless little creature as this, they learn to reverence this feeble infant, and one another, and themselves, and their hearts are very full of feelings which they cannot speak. i well remember that the strongest feelings i ever entertained towards any human being were towards a sister born when i was nine years old. i doubt whether any event in my life ever exerted so strong an educational influence over me as her birth. the emotions excited in me were overwhelming for above two years; and i recal them as vividly as ever now when i see her with a child of her own in her arms. i threw myself on my knees many times in a day, to thank god that he permitted me to see the growth of a human being from the beginning. i leaped from my bed gaily every morning as this thought beamed upon me with the morning light. i learnt all my lessons without missing a word for many months, that i might be worthy to watch her in the nursery during my play-hours. i used to sit on a stool opposite to her as she was asleep, with a bible on my knees, trying to make out how a creature like this might rise "from strength to strength," till it became like christ. my great pain was, (and it was truly at times a despair,) to think what a work lay before this thoughtless little being. i could not see how she was to learn to walk with such soft and pretty limbs: but the talking was the despair. i fancied that she would have to learn every word separately, as i learned my french vocabulary; and i looked at the big johnson's dictionary till i could not bear to think about it. if i, at nine years old, found it so hard to learn through a small book like that vocabulary, what would it be to her to begin at two years old such a big one as that! many a time i feared that she never could possibly learn to speak. and when i thought of all the trees and plants, and all the stars, and all the human faces she must learn, to say nothing of lessons,--i was dreadfully oppressed, and almost wished she had never been born. then followed the relief of finding that walking came of itself--step by step; and then, that talking came of itself--word by word at first, and then many new words in a day. never did i feel a relief like this, when the dread of this mighty task was changed into amusement at her funny use of words, and droll mistakes about them. this taught me the lesson, never since forgotten, that a way always lies open before us, for all that it is necessary for us to do, however impossible and terrible it may appear beforehand. i felt that if an infant could learn to speak, nothing is to be despaired of from human powers, exerted according to nature's laws. then followed the anguish of her childish illnesses--the misery of her wailing after vaccination, when i could neither bear to stay in the nursery nor to keep away from her; and the terror of the back-stairs, and of her falls, when she found her feet; and the joy of her glee when she first knew the sunshine, and the flowers, and the opening spring; and the shame if she did anything rude, and the glory when she did anything right and sweet. the early life of that child was to me a long course of intense emotions which, i am certain, have constituted the most important part of my education. i speak openly of them here, because i am bound to tell the best i know about household education; and on that, as on most subjects, the best we have to tell is our own experience. and i tell it the more readily because i am certain that my parents had scarcely any idea of the passions and emotions that were working within me, through my own unconsciousness of them at the time, and the natural modesty which makes children conceal the strongest and deepest of their feelings: and it may be well to give parents a hint that more is passing in the hearts of their children, on occasion of the gift of a new soul to the family circle, than the ingenuous mind can recognise for itself, or knows how to confide. chapter vii. care of the frame. we have seen something of the influence of the infant upon others: now let us see what others can do for it. here is a little creature containing within itself the germs of all those powers which have before been described; but with all these powers in so feeble a state that months and years of nourishing and cherishing under the influences of nature are necessary to give it the use of its own powers. what its parents can do for it, and all that they can do for it, is to take care that it has the full advantage of the influences of nature. this is their task. they cannot get beyond it, and they ought not to fall short of it. nature requires and provides that the tender frame should be nourished with food, air, warmth and light, sleep and exercise. all these being given to it, the soft bones will grow hard, the weak muscles will grow firm; the eye will become strong to see, and the ear to hear, and the different portions of the brain to feel, and apprehend, and think; and to form purposes, and to cause action, till the helpless infant becomes a self-acting child, and is on the way to become a rational man. what the parents have to do is to take care that the babe has the best of food, air, warmth, and light, sleep and exercise. first, of food. about this there is no possible doubt. the mother's milk is the best of food. what the mother has to look to is that her milk is of the best. she must preserve her own health by wholesome diet, air, and exercise, and by keeping a gentle and cheerful temper. many a babe has had convulsions after being suckled by a nurse who had had a great fright, or had been in a great passion: and a mother who has an irritable or anxious temper, who flushes or trembles with anger, or has her heart in her throat from fear of this or that, will not find her child thrive upon her milk, but will have much to suffer from its illness or its fretfulness. she must try, however busy she may be, to give it its food pretty regularly, that its stomach may not be overloaded nor long empty or craving. an infant does not refuse food when it has had enough, as grown people can do. it will stop crying and suck, when its crying is from some other cause than hunger: and it will afterwards cry all the more if an overloaded stomach is added to the other evil, whatever it may be. of the contrary mischief--leaving a babe too long hungry--there is no need to say anything. and when the weaning time comes, it is plain that the food should be at first as like as possible to that which is given up; thin, smooth, moderately warm, fresh, and sweet, and given as leisurely as the mother's milk is drawn. it is well known that milk contains, more curiously than any other article of food, whatever is necessary for nourishing all the parts of the human body. it contains that which goes to form and strengthen the bones, and that which goes to make and enrich the blood--thereby causing the soft bones of the babe to grow stiff and strong, and its heart to beat healthily, and its lungs to play vigorously, and its muscles to thicken and become firm. while all this is going on well, and the child shows no need of other food, there is nothing but mischief to be looked for from giving it a variety for which it is not prepared. milk, flour and water are its natural food while it has no teeth to eat meat with, and vegetables turn sour on its stomach. as for giving it a bit or sip of what grown persons are eating and drinking--that is a practice too ignorant to need to be mentioned here. next comes air. here, as usual, we have to consult nature. there is an ingredient in the air which is as necessary to support human breathing as to feed the flame of a candle. where there is too little of it, the flame of a candle burns dim; and where it is not freely supplied to a human frame, it languishes, and pines and sickens. a constant supply of pure air there must therefore be. if the house is close, if the room is too long shut up, with people in it who are using up that ingredient of the air, they will all, and especially the babe, languish and pine and sicken. every morning, therefore, and during the day, there must be plenty of fresh air let in to replace that which has been spoiled by breathing; and in fine weather, the babe should be carried into the open air every day. but nature also points out that we must avoid extremes in giving the child air, as well as food. we see sometimes how a babe grows black in the face if carried with its face to the wind, or whisked down stairs in a draught. its lungs are small and tender, like the rest of it, and can bear even fresh air only when moderately given. by a little care in turning its face away from the wind, or lightly covering its head, a child may be saved from being half strangled by a breeze out of doors; while care will, of course, be taken within doors to keep it out of the direct draught from door or window. as for light--we do not yet know so much as we ought about the relation between light and the human frame. i believe some curious secrets remain to be discovered about that. but we do know this much--that people who live in dark places, prisoners in dungeons, and very poor people in cellars, and savages in caves who do not go abroad much, are not only less healthy than others, but have peculiar diseases which are distinctly traceable to deficiency of light. my own conviction is that we grown people can hardly have too much light in our houses; and that we are, somehow or other, alive almost in proportion to the sunshine we live in. but we must observe, at the same time, the difference which nature makes between the infant and adults. the infant's eyes are weak, and its brain tender; so that, while there is plenty of light about its body, we must take care that there is not too much directly before its eyes. if held opposite a strong sunshine, it will squint if it does not cry, or by some means show that the light is too much for its tender brain. as to warmth--everybody knows that a babe cannot have that constant warmth which is kept up in older persons by constant activity. its little feet require frequent warm handling; and its lips often look blue when everybody else in the room is warm enough. by gentle chafing and warming it must be kept comfortable during the day, without being shut up in a hot room, or scorched before the fire. as for the night--its warmth should be secured by sufficient clothing, in a little bed of its own, as early as possible, rather than by lying with its mother, which is far too common a practice. it may be necessary, in extremely cold weather, to take the child into bed for warmth; but even then, the mother should not sleep till she has put it back, warm and well covered, into its own bed. i need say nothing of the horror we feel when, every now and then, we hear of a miserable mother whose child has been overlaid. that accident happens oftener than many people know of. but, besides that danger, the practice is a bad one. the child breathes air already breathed; it soaks in the perspiration of its mother. if its state is healthful, its natural sleep will keep it warm, supposing its bedding to be sufficient; while it is likely to be too hot, and not to breathe healthfully, if laid close by another person. in all seasons, its clothing should be loose enough to allow of a free play of its limbs, and of all the movements within its body--the beating of the heart, the heaving of the lungs, and the rolling of the bowels, to go on quite naturally. by careful management, an infant may be kept in a state of natural warmth, night and day, through winter and summer; as every sensible mother knows. the little frame must be exercised. every human function depends on exercise for its growth and perfection. a person who lives almost in the dark has little use of his eyes when he comes into the light; an arm hung in a sling becomes weak, and at last useless; a talent for arithmetic or music becomes feebler continually from disuse. to make the most therefore of the frame of a human being, it must be exercised--some of its powers from the beginning, and all in their natural order. we must take care, however, to observe what this natural order is, or, judging by our present selves, we may attempt too much. we must remember that the infant has to begin from the beginning, and that its primary organs--the heart, lungs, and brain--have to become accustomed to moderate exercise before anything further should be attempted. at first, it is quite enough for the infant to be taken up and laid down, washed and dressed, and carried about a little on the arm. when the proper time comes, it will kick and crow, and reach and handle, and look and listen. its very crying, if only what is natural to express its wants, is a good exercise of those parts intended to be used afterwards in speaking and making childish noises. poor laura bridgman, the american girl, who early lost both eyes and the inner parts of the ears, and cannot hear, see, smell, or taste, and whose mind is yet developed by means of the sense of touch, said a thing (said it by finger language) which appears to me very touching and very instructive. not being able to speak, she was formerly apt to use the organs of speech in making odd noises, disagreeable to people about her. when told of this, and encouraged to try to be silent, she asked--"why, then, has god given me so much voice?" her guardians took the hint, and gave her a place to play in for some time every day, where she can make as much noise as she likes--hearing none of it herself, but enjoying the exercise to her organs of sound. what laura does now, an infant does by squalling, and children do by shouting and vociferating at their play. their parents, it must be remembered, are talking for many hours while they are asleep. other exercises follow in their natural course--the rolling and tumbling about on a thickly wadded quilt on the floor (saving the busy mother's time, while teaching the child the use of its limbs)--feeling its feet on the lap, and learning to step, scrambling up and down by the leg of the table, pulling and throwing things about, imitating sounds, till speech is attained--these are the exercises which nature directs, and under which the powers grow till the mother can see in her plaything the sailor who may one day rock at the mast-head, or the stout labourer who may trench the soil, or the gardener who will name a thousand plants at a glance, or the teacher who will bring out and train a hundred human intellects. what she has to look to is that the powers of her child are all remembered and considered, and exercised only in due degree and natural order. after exercise comes sleep. if all else go well, this will too. if the child digest well, be warm, sufficiently fatigued and not too much--in short, if it be comfortable in body, it will sleep at proper times. one of the earliest pieces of education--of training--is to induce a babe to sleep regularly, and without the coaxing which consumes so much of the mother's time, and encourages so much waywardness on the part of the child. if a healthy child be early accustomed to a bed of its own, and if it is laid down at a sleepy moment, while the room is quiet, it will soon get into a habit of sleeping when laid down regularly, in warmth and stillness, after being well washed and satisfied with food. the process is natural; and it would happen easily enough if our ways did not interfere with nature. by a little care, a child may be attended to in the night without fully awakening it. by watching for its stirring, veiling the light, being silent and quick, the little creature may be on its pillow again without having quite waked up--to its own and its mother's great advantage. cleanliness is the removal of all that is unwholesome. nature has made health dependent upon this, in the case of human beings of every age: and the more eminently, the younger they are. one great condition of an infant's welfare is the removal of all discharges whatever, by careful cleansing of the delicate skin in every crease and corner, every day; and of all clothing as soon as soiled. the perpetual washing of an infant's bibs, &c., is a great trouble to a busy mother; but less than to have the child ill from the smell of a sour pinafore, or from wet underclothes, or from a cap that holds the perspiration of a week's nights and days. it is a thing which must be done--the keeping all pure and sweet about the body of the little creature that cannot help itself; and its look of welfare amply repays the trouble all the while. such are the offices to be rendered to the new-born infant. they consist in allowing nature scope for her higher offices. by their faithful discharge, the human being is prepared to become in due season all that he is made capable of being--which may prove to be something higher than we are at present aware of. chapter viii. care of the powers:--will. while the bodily powers of the infant are nourished and preserved by observing nature, as pointed out in the last chapter, the powers of the mind are growing from day to day. when an infant has once been pleased with the glitter of the sun upon the brass warming-pan, or with the sound of a rattle, it will kick and shake its little arms, and look eager, the next time it sees the rattle and the warming-pan. and having once remembered, it will remember more every day. every day it will give signs of hope and desire. will shows itself very early. fear has to be guarded against, and love to be cherished, from the first days that mind appears. it is the highest possible privilege to the child if the parents know how to exercise its power of conscience soon enough, so as to make it sweet and natural to the young creature to do right from its earliest days. let us see how these things may be. how strong is the will of even a very young infant! how the little creature, if let alone, will labour and strive after anything it has set its mind upon! how it cries and struggles to get the moon; and tumbles about the floor, as soon as it can sprawl, to accomplish any wish! and, if ill-trained, how pertinaciously it will refuse to do anything it ought! how completely may the wills of a whole party of grown people be set at nought by the self-will of a baby whose powers are allowed to run riot! it is exceedingly easy to mismanage such cases, as we all see every day: but it is also very easy to render this early power of will a great blessing. the commonest mistake is to indulge the child's self-will, as the easiest course at the moment. immediate peace and quiet are sought by giving the child whatever it clamours for, and letting it do whatever it likes in its own way. we need not waste words on this tremendous mistake. everybody knows what a spoiled child is; and nobody pretends to stand up for the method of its education. i think quite as ill of the opposite mistake--of the method which goes by the name of breaking the child's will; a method adopted by some really conscientious parents because they think religion requires it. when i was in america, i knew a gentleman who thought it his first duty to break the wills of his children; and he set about it zealously and early. he was a clergyman, and the president of an university: the study of his life had been the nature and training of the human mind: and the following is the way he chose--misled by a false and cruel religion of fear--to subdue and destroy the great faculty of will. an infant of (i think) about eleven months old was to be weaned. a piece of bread was offered to the babe; and the babe turned away from it. its father said that it was necessary to break down the rebellious will of every child for once; that if done early enough, once would suffice; and that it would be right and kind to take this early occasion in the instance of this child. the child was therefore to be compelled to eat the bread. a dressmaker in the house saw the process go on through the whole day; and became so dreadfully interested that she could not go away at night till the matter was finished. of course, the bit of bread became more and more the subject of disgust, and then of terror to the infant, the more it was forced upon its attention. hours of crying, shrieking and moaning were followed by its being shut up in a closet. it was brought out by candlelight--stretched helpless across the nurse's arms, its voice lost, its eyes sunk and staring, its muscles shrunk, its appearance that of a dying child. it was now near midnight. the bit of bread was thrust into the powerless hand; no resistance was offered by the unconscious sufferer; and the victory over the evil powers of the flesh and the devil was declared to be gained. the dressmaker went home, bursting with grief and indignation, and told the story: and when the president went abroad the next morning, he found the red brick walls of the university covered with chalk portraits of himself holding up a bit of bread before his babe. the affair made so much noise that he was, after some time, compelled to publish a justification of himself. this justification amounted to what was well understood throughout; that he conscientiously believed it his duty to take an early opportunity to break the child's will, for its own sake. there remained for his readers the old wonder where he could find in the book of glad tidings so cruel a contradiction of that law of love which stands written on every parent's heart. how much easier is the true and natural method for controlling the young will! nature points out that the true method is to control the will, not by another person's will, but by the other faculties of the child itself. when the child wills what is right and innocent, let the faculty work freely. when it wills what is wrong and hurtful, appeal to other faculties, and let this one sleep; excite the child's attention; engage its memory, or its hope, or its affection. if the infant is bent on having something that it ought not, put the forbidden object out of sight, and amuse the child with something else. avoid both indulgence and opposition, and a habit of docility will be formed by the time the child becomes capable of deliberate self-control. this natural method being followed, it is curious to see how early the power of self-control may be attained. i watched one case of a child endowed with a strong will who, well trained, had great power of self-government before she could speak plain. she was tenderly reared, and indulged in her wishes whenever they were reasonable, and cheerfully amused and helped whenever her desires were disappointed. one day i had just begun to show her a bright new red pocket-book full of pictures when she was called to her dinner. she did not want her dinner, and begged to see the pocket-book; begged it once--twice--and was about to beg it a third time, when i ventured to put to the proof her power of self-denial. i put the case before her as it appeared to me, fairly saying that i could not show her the pocket-book till five in the afternoon. showing her what i thought the right of the matter, i asked her whether she would now go to her dinner. she stood, with the pocket-book in her hand, for some seconds in deep thought; then looked up at me with a bright face, said graciously "i will;" put the gay plaything into my lap, and ran off to her dinner. the looking forward till five o'clock and the pleasure of that hour fixed the effort in her mind, and made the next easier. it is clear that a child early subject to oppression and opposition in matters of the will could not arrive thus betimes and naturally at self-government like this, but must have many perverse and painful feelings to struggle with, in addition to the necessary conflict with himself. a parent who duly appreciates the great work that every human being has to do in attaining self-government, will assist the process from the very first, by the two great means in his power--by the aid of habit, and of a government of love instead of fear. it is really due to the feebleness of a child to give it the aid and support of habit in what it has to do and avoid. by regularity in the acts of its little life, in its sleeping and feeding, and walking and times of play, a world of conflict and wilfulness is avoided, and the will is quietly trained, day by day, to submission to circumstances; life goes on with the least possible wear and tear; and a continually strengthening power is obtained over all the faculties. among the children entering upon school life, and men and women upon any sphere of duty whatever, a great difference as to efficiency will be found between those who always have to bring their will to bear expressly on the business of the time, unaided by habit, and those whose lives and powers have been, as one may say, economised by their having lived under that discipline of time and circumstance which is the gentle and natural education of the human will. it is true, this mechanical kind of discipline can never be more than auxiliary. it can never stand in the place of the deep internal principle by which alone the mightiest movements of the human will are actuated. it can only husband a man's powers for his ordinary duties, and not of itself prepare him for the great crises of life. it can only aid him in his everyday course, and not strengthen him, when the agonising hour comes, to surrender love, and hope, and peace, at the call of duty, or to encounter outrage and death for truth's sake. but we are now considering the education of the infant man; man at that stage when our chief concern is with whatever is auxiliary to that great aim of perfection which lies far in the future. above all things it is important that the parental administration should be one of love and not of fear. there can be no healthful growth of the will under the restraints of fear. the fact is, the will is not trained at all in any frightened person. the actions may be conformed to the will of the tyrant; but the will is running riot in secret all the time--unless, indeed, it be entirely crushed. but how vigorously it grows under a government of love! look at the difference between a slave-owner, whose people are driven by the lash, and an employer whose people are ready to live and die for him: how languidly and shabbily is the work done in the first case, and how heartily and efficiently in the last! and it is with the young child as with the grown man. a child who lives in the fear of punishment has half its faculties absorbed by that fear, and becomes a feeble little creature, incapable of governing itself; while a mere babe who is cheered and led on in its good efforts by smiles of love and tones of tenderness becomes strong to govern its passions, and to brush away its tears; and patient to bear pain; and brave to overcome difficulty; becomes blessed, in short, with a healthful and virtuous will. i know nothing more touching than the efforts of self-government of which little children are capable, when the best parts of their nature are growing vigorously under the light and warmth of parental love. mrs. wesley might pride herself on so breaking the wills of her children by fear as that the youngest in arms learned immediately "to cry softly;" but there was every danger that the early cowed will would sooner or later start up in desperate rebellion, and claim a freedom which it would be wholly unable to manage. how much safer, and how infinitely more beautiful is the self-control of the little creature who stifles his sobs of pain because his mother's pitying eye is upon him in tender sorrow! or that of the babe who abstains from play, and sits quietly on the floor because somebody is ill; or that of a little hero who will ask for physic if he feels himself ill, or for punishment if he knows himself wrong, out of confidence in the tender justice of the rule under which he lives! i have known a very young child slip over to the cold side of the bed on a winter's night, that a grown-up sister might find a warm one. i have known a boy in petticoats offer his precious new humming-top to a beggar child. i have known a little girl submit spontaneously to hours of irksome restraint and disagreeable employment merely because it was right. such wills as these--so strong and yet so humble, so patient and so dignified--were never impaired by fear, but flourished thus under the influence of love, with its sweet incitements and holy supports. chapter ix. care of the powers:--hope. we have seen what power of will a child has. but the will itself is put in action by hope and fear. what is stronger in an infant than its capacity for hope and fear? in its earliest and most unconscious stages of emotion, how its little limbs quiver, and its countenance lights up at the prospect of its food! and how it turns away its face, or wrinkles it up into a cry, at the sight of a strange countenance, or unusual appearance of dress or place! and what stronger hint can a parent have than this to look forward to what this hope and fear may grow to? this great power of hope must determine the leading features of the character of the man or woman; determine them for good or evil according to the training of the power from this day forward. shall the man continue a child, or sink into the brute by his objects of hope continuing to be what they are now--food or drink? shall his frame be always put into commotion by the prospect of pleasant bodily sensations from eating and drinking, and other animal gratifications? or, when the child arrives at hoping for his mother's smile and his father's praise, shall he stop there, and live for admiration; admiration of his person and dress, his activity, or his cleverness? shall the gratification of his vanity be the chief interest of his life? or shall it be ambition? shall his perpetual hope be of a higher sort of praise--praise from so large a number as shall give him power over other men, and cause his name to be known beyond his connexions, and his native place, and his country and his age? all this is very low and very small; too little for the requirements of his nature, too little for the peace of his mind and the happiness of his heart. shall not rather this faculty of hope be nourished up into faith?--faith which includes at once the fulness of virtuous power and the peace which the world can neither give nor take away. a being in whom the early faculty of hope has been matured into a steady power of faith is of the highest and happiest order of men, because the objects of his hope are unchanging and ever-lasting, and they keep all his best powers in strenuous action and in full health and strength. when the mother sees her infant in an ecstacy of hope, first at the food making ready for him, and next at the gay flower within his reach, and afterwards at the flattery of visitors, she should remember that here is the faculty which may hereafter lead and sustain him through days of hunger and nights of watching, or years of toilsome obscurity, or scenes of the unthinking world's scorn, calm and peaceful in the furtherance of the truth of god and the welfare of man. and if her tender heart shrinks from the anticipation of privation and contempt such as have too often hitherto attended a life of faith, let her remember that in the midst of the most prosperous life there can be no peace but in proportion to the power of faith; and that therefore in training up this faculty of hope to its highest exercise she is providing most substantially for his happiness, be his lot otherwise what it may. how is this faculty to be trained?-- first, it must be cherished. some well-meaning parents repress and even extinguish it, from the notion that this is the way to teach humility and self-denial. the consequence is that they break the mainspring of action in the child's mind, and everything comes to a stand. it is difficult to weaken the power of hope in a human being, and harder still to break it down; but when the thing is done, what sadder spectacle can be seen? of all moving sights of woe, the most mournful is that of a hopeless child. a single glance at its listless limbs, its dull eye, its languid movements, shows the mischief that has been done. the child is utterly unreliable; a mere burden upon the world. he has no truth, no love, no industry, no intellectual power in him; and if he has any conscience, it is the mere remains,--enough to trouble him, without doing him any good. this is an extreme case, and i trust a rare one. but cases of repressed hope are much more common than they should be. there are too many children who are baulked of their mother's sympathy because she is busy or fretful, or of their father's, because he is stern. too many little hearts are made to swell in silence because they cannot get justice, or to burn under the suspicion that their aspirations are despised. after this, what can they do? at best, they carry their confidence elsewhere, and make their chief interests away from home: and it is too probable that they will give up their plans and aspirations, and sink down to lower hopes. a boy who aspires to discover the north pole, or to write a book which will teach the world something greater than it ever knew before, will presently sink down to be greedy after lollypops: and a girl who means to try whether a woman cannot be as good as jesus christ, may presently be discouraged down to the point of reckoning on sunday because she is to have a new ribbon on her bonnet. in the case of every human being, hope is to be cherished from first to last; not the hope of the particular thing that the child has set its mind on, unless the thing itself be good; but the hopeful mood of mind. the busiest mother can have nothing to do so important as satisfying her child's heart by a word or look of sympathy: and the most anxious father can have nothing so grave to occupy him as the peril he puts his child into by plunging him into undeserved fear and disappointment. hope is to be cherished without ceasing. but the objects of hope must first be varied and then exalted, that the faculty may be led on from strength to strength, till it is able to fix its aims for itself. to the hope of good eating and drinking must succeed that of clutching gay colours, of hearing mother sing, of having play with father when he comes home; then of having a kitten or a doll to take care of; then of parents' praise for lessons or other work well done; then of self-satisfaction for bad habits cured: then there may be a great spring forward to thoughts of glory;--the glory of being a great sailor, or magistrate, or author, or martyr: and at length, the hope of doing great things for the good of mankind, and of becoming a perfect man. as for times and opportunities of cherishing and exalting hope--every hour is the right time, and every day affords the opportunity. what is needed, is that the parents should have the aim fixed in their hearts; and then their minds, and that of the child, will work towards it as by an instinct. by natural impulse the mother's hand will bring the gay flower, and the kitten or the doll before the child's notice, if it becomes greedy about its food. by natural impulse she will sing its favourite song, or beg play for it of its father after some little virtuous effort of the child's; in natural course, all things in human life, great and small, will present themselves in their heroic aspect to the minds of the parents, and be thus represented to the mind of the child, if once the idea of the future man be firmly associated with that of moral nobleness. if they have in them faith enough steadily to desire for him this moral nobleness above all things, there can be no fear but that their aspiration will communicate itself to him; and his faculty of hope will ripen into a power of faith. i have said nothing of a hope of reward as among the objects of childhood. this is because i think rewards and punishments seldom or never necessary in household education, while they certainly bring great mischief after them. in some cases of bad habit, and in a very early stage of education, they may be desirable, here and there; but as a system, i think rewards and punishments bad. in the case of a very young child who has fallen into a habit of crying at bedtime, or at any particular time of day, or in that of a thoughtless, untidy child, where the object is to impress its memory, or to establish a strong association with time or place, it may be useful to connect some expectation of pain or pleasure with particular seasons or acts, so as to make the infant remember the occasion for self-government, and rouse its will to do right; but this should be only where the association of selfish pleasure or pain is likely to die out with the bad habit, and never where such selfish pleasure or pain can be associated with great permanent ideas and moral feelings. a careless child may be allowed to earn a reward for punctuality at meals, and for putting playthings and dress in their proper place when done with, and for personal neatness, during a specified time; and perhaps for the diligent learning of irksome tasks: and there may be some punishment, declared and agreed upon before hand, and steadily inflicted, for any disagreeable personal habit, or any other external instance of habitual thoughtlessness. but the greater moral aims of the parent are too sacred to be mixed up with the direct personal interests of the child. a child will hardly be nobly truthful who dreads being whipped for a lie; and benevolence will be spoiled in its young beginnings, if any pleasure beyond itself is looked for in its early exercise. a child who has broken a plate, or gone astray for pleasure when sent on an errand, must want confidence in his parents, and be more or less cowardly if he denies the offence; and he will not have more truth or courage on the next occasion for being whipped now. what he needs is to be made wiser about the blessedness of truth and the horrors of falsehood, and more brave about the pain of rebuke: and the whipping will not make him either the one or the other. i remember being fond of a book in my childhood which yet revolted me in one part. it told of the children of a great family in france, who heard of the poverty of a woman about to lie in, and who bought and made clothes for herself and her infant. their mother and grandmother made a sort of festival of the giving of these clothes. the children rode in procession on asses, carrying their gifts. one tied her bundle with blue ribbon, and another with pink; and the whole village came out to see, when they alighted at the poor woman's door. i used to blush with indignation over this story; indignation on the poor woman's account, that her pauperism was so exposed; and on that of the children, that they were not allowed the pure pleasure of helping a neighbour, without being applauded at home and by a whole village for what it gave them nothing but satisfaction to do. i am strongly of opinion that when we duly understand and estimate man, there will be no reward or punishment at all; that human beings will be so trained as to find their pleasure and pain in the gratification or the abuse of their own highest faculties; and that in those days (however far off they may be) there will be no treadwheels, no hulks, no gibbets; and no prize-giving, except for feats of skill or activity. and meantime, i feel perfectly sure that children under home-training may be led to find such gratification in the exercise of their higher intellectual and moral faculties, as to feel the abuse of them more painful than any punishment, and their action more pleasurable than any reward. when we read of a christian in the early ages who was brought into the amphitheatre, and given the choice whether he would declare jupiter to be the supreme god, and enjoy life and comfort, or avow himself a christian, and be torn to pieces by wild beasts the next minute, we feel that he _could not_ say he believed jupiter to be god. well: convince any child as fully as this of the truth, and of his absolute need of fidelity to it, and he can no more endure lapse from it than the christian could endure to declare jupiter to be god. as the inveterate drunkard must gratify his propensity to drink, at the cost of any amount of personal and domestic misery; and as the miser must go on adding to his stores of gold, even though he starves himself into disease and death, so the upright man must satisfy his conscience through every extremity; and no penalty can deter the benevolent man from devoting all he has to give--his money, his time, and his life--to the relief of suffering. on such as these--the upright and the devoted--every appeal to their lower faculties is lost; and as for their hope and fear--they have passed into something higher. with them "perfect love has cast out fear;" and hope has grown up into faith; and this faith being to them "the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen," it must be more to them than any of the passing pains and pleasures of life. exalted as these beings are, they are of the same make as the infant on its mother's lap: and each is destined to derive his highest gratification from the exercise of the noblest faculties of his nature. if parents did but understand and constantly remember this, they would consider well before they dared to mix up a meaner pleasure and pain with the greater, while appealing to any of the higher moral faculties of their children--if indeed they ventured upon reward and punishment at all. chapter x. care of the powers continued:--fear. there is nothing in which children differ more than in their capacity for fear. but every child has it more or less,--or ought to have it: for nothing can be made of a human being who has never experienced it. a child who has never known any kind of fear can have no power of imagination;--can feel no wonder, no impulse of life, no awe or veneration. such a case probably does not exist, except in a condition of idiotcy. a child who is called fearless, and who is congratulated upon this,--who shows no shyness of strangers, who does not mind cold water, or falls, or being in the dark, who runs after animals, and plays with ugly insects, may yet cower under a starry sky, or tremble at thunder, or be impressed for life by a mysterious dream. it is for the parents to watch the degree and direction of an infant's fear, firmly assured that whatever be this degree and direction, all may end well under prudent care. the least favourable case is that of the apathetic child. when it appears indifferent to whatever may happen to it, and shrinks from nothing, it must be as incapable of hope and enjoyment as of fear, and there must be something amiss in its health,--in its nervous system; and its health is what must be looked to first. it must be well nourished and amused; its perceptive faculties must be exercised, and every sort of activity must be encouraged. if this succeeds, and its feelings begin to show themselves, fear will come with the rest; and then its education in that respect must begin. but it must ever be carefully remembered that fear often puts on the appearance of apathy,--especially in a proud child. no creature is so intensely reserved as a proud and timid child: and the cases are few in which the parents know anything of the agonies of its little heart, the spasms of its nerves, the soul-sickness of its days, the horrors of its nights. it hides its miseries under an appearance of indifference or obstinacy, till its habitual terror impairs its health, or drives it into a temper of defiance or recklessness. i can speak with some certainty of this, from my own experience. i was as timid a child as ever was born; yet nobody knew or could know, the extent of this timidity; for though abundantly open about everything else, i was as secret as the grave about this. i had a dream at four years old which terrified me to such an excess that i cannot now recal it without a beating of the heart. i could not look up at the sky on a clear night; for i felt as if it was only just above the tree tops, and must crush me. i could not cross the yard except at a run, from a sort of feeling, with no real belief,--that a bear was after me. the horrors of my nights were inexpressible. the main terror however was a magic-lantern which we were treated with once a year, and sometimes twice. we used to talk of this exhibition as a prodigious pleasure; and i contrived to reckon on it as such: but i never saw the white cloth, with its circle of yellow light, without being in a cold perspiration from head to foot. one of the pictures on the slides was always suppressed by my father, lest it should frighten the little ones;--a dragon's head, vomiting flames. he little thought that a girl of thirteen could be terrified by this: but when i was thirteen,--old enough to be put in charge of some children who were to see the magic lantern,--this slide was exhibited by one of my brothers among the rest. i had found it hard enough to look and laugh before; and now i turned so faint that i could not stand, but by grasping a chair. but for the intensity of my shame, i should have dropped. much of the benefit of instruction was lost to me during all the years that i had masters: my memory failed me when they knocked at the door, and i could never ask a question, or get voice to make a remark. i could never play to my music master, or sing with a clear voice but when i was sure nobody could hear me. under all this, my health was bad; my behaviour was dogged and provoking, and my temper became for a time insufferable. its improvement began from the year when i first obtained some release from habitual fear. during these critical years i misled everybody about me by a habit of concealment on this one subject which i am sure i should not now have strength for under any inducement whatever. because i climbed our apple tree, and ran along the top of a high wall, and took great leaps, and was easily won by benevolent strangers, and because i was never known to hint or own myself afraid, no one suspected that fear was at the bottom of the immoveable indifference and apparently unfeeling obstinacy by which i perplexed and annoyed everybody about me. i make these confessions willingly, in the hope that some inexperienced or busy parent may be awakened by them to observe whether the seeming apathy of a child be really from indifference, or the outward working of some hidden passion of fear. bold children are good and promising subjects; and it is a delightful thing to a parent's heart to see an infant fairly trying its powers against difficulties and obstacles--confronting nature in all seasons of light and darkness, of sunshine and tempest, in the face of strangers and friends alike, free and fearless. it is delightful to think how much misery and embarrassment he is spared, by his happy constitution of nerves and brain. but, while the proud parent sees in him the future discoverer or sailor, or leader among men, it must be remembered that in order to become great, in order to become truly a man at all, he must learn and endure much that can be learned and endured only through fear, and the conquest of it. that there is some fear in him is certain; and the parent must silently search it out, and train it up into that awe and modesty which are necessary to the high courage of a whole life. no man or woman can be a faithful servant of duty, qualified to live, suffer, and die for it, who has not grown up in awe of something higher than himself--in veneration of some powers greater than he can understand; and this awe and veneration have in them a large element of fear at the beginning. what this element is, in each case, the parents must set themselves to understand. too many think it their duty to make a child afraid, if fear does not seem to come of itself: and too many do this without thinking it their duty, from the spirit of opposition being excited in themselves, from the experience of inconvenient fearlessness in the child. i have known a tutor avow his practice of beating a bold boy till he broke two canes over him, because the boy ought to learn that he is under a power (a power of arm) greater than his own, and must, through fear of it, apply himself to his appointed business. such inflictions make a boy reckless, or obstinate, or deceitful. and i have seen far too many instances of irritable parents who have tried to manage a high-spirited child by threats; and, the threats failing, by blows, or shutting up in the dark, or hobgoblin prophecies, which have created no real awe or obedience, but only defiance, or forced and sullen submission. this will never do. a tender parent will never have the heart to breed fear in a child, knowing that "fear hath torment." a truly loving parent will know that it would be less unkind to bruise his child's limbs, or burn its flesh, than to plant torturing feelings in his mind. the most effectual way, for all purposes, is to discover the fear that is already there, in order to relieve him from it, by changing this weakness into a source of strength and comfort. what is it--this fear that lies hidden in him? a boy who is not afraid of the dark, or of a bull, or of a ghost, may tremble at the sight of a drunken man, or at the hearing of an oath. a girl who is not afraid of a spider or a toad, nor of thieves, nor of climbing ladders, may tremble at the moaning of the wind in the chimney, or at a frown from her mother, or at entering a sick chamber. whatever be the fear, let the parents watch, carefully but silently, till they have found it out: and, having found it out, let them lead on the child to conquest, both by reason and by bringing such courage as he has to bear on the weak point. in any case, whether of a bold or a timid child, the only completely effectual training comes from the parents' example. if the every day life of the parents shows that they dread nothing but doing wrong, for either themselves or their children, the fears of the most timid and of the boldest will alike take this direction, sooner or later: and the courage of both will, with more or less delay, become adequate to bear and do anything for conscience' sake. if it be the clear rule and habit of an entire household to dread and detest only one thing, the fear and dislike of every mind in the household will become concentred upon that one thing, and every heart will become stout to avoid and repel it. and if the one dreaded thing be sin, it is well; for the courage of each and all will be perpetually reinforced by the whole strength of the best faculties of every mind. as for the case of the timid child,--let not the parent be disheartened, for the noblest courage of man or woman has often grown out of the excessive fears of the child. it is true, the little creature is destined to undergo many a moment of agony, many an hour of misery, many a day of discouragement; but all this pain may be more than compensated for by the attainment of such a freedom and strength at last as may make it feel as if it had passed from hell to heaven. think what it must be for a being who once scarcely dared to look round from fear of lights on the ceiling or shadows on the wall, who started at the patter of the rain, or the rustle of the birds leaving the spray, who felt suffocated by the breeze and maddened by the summer lightning, to pass free, fearless and glad through all seasons and their change,--all climes and their mysteries and dangers;--to pass exhilarated through raging seas, over glaring deserts, and among wild forests! think what it must be for a creature who once trembled before a new voice or a grave countenance, and writhed under a laugh of ridicule, and lied, at the cost of deep mental agony, to avoid a rebuke,--think what it must be to such a creature to find itself at last free and fearless,--enjoying such calm satisfaction within as to suffer nothing from the ridicule or the blame of those who do not know his mind, and so thoroughly acquainted with the true values of things as to have no dread of sickness or poverty, or the world's opinion, because no evil that can befal him can touch his peace! think what a noble work it will be to raise your trembling little one to such a condition as this, and you will be eager to begin the task at once, and patient and watchful to continue it from day to day. first, how to begin. the most essential thing for a timid infant is to have an absolutely unfailing refuge in its mother. it may seem unnecessary to say this. it may appear impossible that a mother's tenderness should ever fail towards a helpless little creature who has nothing but that tenderness to look to: but alas! it is not so. i know a lady who is considered very sweet-tempered, and who usually is so--kind and hospitable, and fond of her children. her infant under six months old was lying on her arm one day when the dessert was on the table; and the child was eager after the bright glasses and spoons, and more restless than was convenient. after several attempts to make it lie quiet, the mother slapped it--slapped it hard. this was from an emotion of disappointed vanity, from vexation that the child was not "good" before visitors. if such a thing could happen, may we not fear that other mothers may fail in tenderness,--in the middle of the night, for instance, after a toilsome day, when kept awake by the child's restlessness, or amidst the hurry of the day, when business presses, and the little creature will not take its sleep? little do such mothers know the fatal mischief they do by impairing their child's security with them. if they did, they would undergo anything before they would let a harsh word or a sharp tone escape them, or indulge in a severe look or a hasty movement. a child's heart responds to the tones of its mother's voice like a harp to the wind; and its only hope for peace and courage is in hearing nothing but gentleness from her, and experiencing nothing but unremitting love, whatever may be its troubles elsewhere. supposing this to be all right, the mother will feel herself from the first the depositary of its confidence;--a confidence as sacred as any other, though tacit, and about matters which may appear to all but itself and her infinitely small. entering by sympathy into its fears, she will incessantly charm them away, till the child becomes open to reason,--and even afterwards; for the most terrible fears are precisely those which have nothing to do with reason. she will bring it acquainted with every object in the room or house, letting it handle in merry play everything which could look mysterious to its fearful eyes, and rendering it familiar with every household sound. some of my worst fears in infancy were from lights and shadows. the lamp-lighter's torch on a winter's afternoon, as he ran along the street, used to cast a gleam, and the shadows of the window frames on the ceiling; and my blood ran cold at the sight, every day, even though i was on my father's knee, or on the rug in the middle of the circle round the fire. nothing but compulsion could make me enter our drawing-room before breakfast on a summer morning; and if carried there by the maid, i hid my face in a chair that i might not see what was dancing on the wall. if the sun shone (as it did at that time of day,) on the glass lustres on the mantel-piece, fragments of gay colour were cast on the wall; and as they danced when the glass drops were shaken, i thought they were alive,--a sort of imps. but, as i never told any body what i felt, these fears could not be met, or charmed away; and i grew up to an age which i will not mention before i could look steadily at prismatic colours dancing on the wall. suffice it that it was long after i had read enough of optics to have taught any child how such colours came there. many an infant is terrified at the shadow of a perforated night-lamp, with its round spaces of light. many a child lives in perpetual terror of the eyes of portraits on the walls,--or of some grotesque shape in the pattern of the paper-hangings. sometimes the terror is of the clack of the distant loom, or of the clink from the tinman's, or of the rumble of carts under a gateway, or of the creak of a water-wheel, or the gush of a mill-race. everything is or may be terrifying to a timid infant; and it is therefore a mother's charge to familiarise it gently and playfully with everything that it can possibly notice, making sport with all sights, and inciting it to imitation of all sounds--from the drone of the pretty bee to the awful cry of the old clothes-man;--from the twitter of the sparrows on the roof to the toll of the distant church bell. it is a matter of course that no mother will allow any ignorant person to have access to her child who will frighten it with goblin stories, or threats of the old black man. she might as well throw up her charge at once, and leave off thinking of household education altogether, as permit her child to be exposed to such maddening inhumanity as this. the instances are not few of idiotcy or death from terror so caused. while thus preventing or scattering fears which arise from the imagination, both parents should be constantly using the little occasions which are always arising, for exercising their child's courage. the most timid children have always courage in one direction or another. while i was trembling and fainting under magic-lanterns and street cries, i could have suffered any pain and died any death without fear, the circumstances being fairly laid before me. let the timid child be made hardy in its play by example and encouragement. let it be cheered on to meet necessary pain without flinching,--the taking out a thorn, or pulling out a tooth. let it early hear of real heroic deeds,--hear them spoken of with all the affectionate admiration with which we naturally speak of such acts. if a life is saved from fire or drowning, let the children hear of it as a joyful fact. let them hear how steadily william tell's little son stood, for his father to shoot through the apple. let them hear how the good man who was on his way to be burnt for his religion took off his shoes, and gave them to a barefooted man who came to stare at him, saying that the poor man wanted the shoes, but he could do without them now. let them hear of the other good man who was burnt for his religion, and who promised some friends, in danger of the same fate, that he would clasp his hands above his head in the midst of the fire, if he found the pain so bearable that he did not repent, and who did lift up his arms and join them after his hands were consumed,--so giving his friends on the hill-side comfort and strength. if any child of your acquaintance does a brave thing, or bears pain cheerfully, let your children hear of it as a good and happy thing. above all, let them see, as i said before, all their lives long, that _you_ fear nothing but wrong-doing,--neither tempests nor comets, nor reports of famine or fever, nor the tongues of the quarrelsome, nor any other of the accidents of life,--no pain, in short, but pain of conscience,--and the same spirit will strengthen in them. their fear will follow the direction of yours; their courage will come in sympathy with yours; and their minds will fill more and more with thoughts of hope and heroism which must in time drive out such remaining terrors as cannot be met by fact or reason. in this fearlessness of yours is included fearlessness for your children, as well as for yourselves. while their limbs are soft and feeble, of course you must be strength and safety to them: but when they arrive at a free use of their limbs and senses, let them fully enjoy that free use. we english are behind almost every nation in the strength and hardihood of the race of children. in america, i have seen little boys and girls perched in trees overhanging fearful precipices, and crawling about great holes in bridges, while the torrent was rushing below; and i could not learn that accidents from such practices were ever heard of. in switzerland i have seen mere infants scrambling among the rocks after the goats,--themselves as safe as kids, from the early habit of relying on their own powers. in egypt and nubia i have seen five-year old boys poppling about like ducks in the rapids of the nile, while some, not much older, were not satisfied with hauling and pushing, as our boat ascended the cataract, but swam and dived, to heave off her keel from sunken rocks. such children are saved from danger, as much as from fear, by an early use of all the powers they have: and it would be a happy thing for many an english child if its parents were brave enough to encourage it to try how much it can do with its wonderful little body. of this, however, we shall have to say more under another head. chapter xi. care of the powers continued:--patience. some may be surprised to find patience spoken of among the powers of man. they have been accustomed to consider it a passive quality, and not as involving action of the mind. they do not find it in any catalogue of the organs of the brain, and have always supposed it a mere negation of the action of those organs. but patience is no negation. it is the vigorous and sustained action, amidst outward stillness, of some of the most powerful faculties with which the human being is endowed; and primarily of its powers of firmness and resistance. the man who holds up his head, quiet and serene, through a season of unavoidable poverty or undeserved disgrace, is exercising his power of firmness as vigorously as the general who pursues his warfare without change of purpose through a long campaign; and a lame child, strong and spirited, who sits by cheerfully to see his companions leaping ditches, is or has been engaged in as keen a combat with opposing forces as a couple of pugilists. in the case of the patient, the resolution and resistance are brought to bear against invisible enemies, which are the more, and not the less, hard to conquer from their assaults being made in silence, and having to be met in the solitude of the inner being. the man patient under poverty or disgrace has to carry on an active interior conflict with his baffled hope, his grieved domestic affections, his natural love of ease and enjoyment, his mortified ambition, his shaken self-esteem, and his yearning after sympathy. and the lame child among the leapers has to contend alone with most of these mortifications, and with his stimulating animal spirits besides. nothing can be further from passiveness than his state in his hour of trial, though he may sit without moving a muscle. he is putting down the swellings of his little heart, and taming his instincts, and rousing his will, and searching out noble supports among his highest ideas and best feelings--putting on his invisible armour as eagerly as any hero whom the trumpet calls from his rest. patience is no more like passiveness in its smallest exercises than in these great ones. look at the ill-nursed passive infant,--how it hangs over its mother's shoulder, or slouches on her arm,--its eye dull, its face still, its movements slow: see how, when old enough to amuse itself, it sits on the floor by the hour together, jangling a bunch of keys, lulling itself with that noise, instead of making any of its own! contrast with this the lively infant beginning to be trained to patience. it does not cry for its food or toy, as it used to do, but its limbs are all active, it fidgets, and it searches its mother's face for hope and encouragement not to cry. and when more advanced, how busy is its little soul while it makes no noise, and postpones its play for the sake of the baby. if it sits at watch beside the cradle, how it glances about to warn away the kitten, or puts its finger on its lips if the door opens, or watches so intently for baby's eye-lids to open as to start when it jerks its hand. if waiting for play till baby has had its meal, how it stands at its mother's knee, making folds in her gown,--see-sawing its body perhaps, and fetching deep sighs, to throw off its impatience, but speaking no word--making no complaint till baby has had its dues. and when its turn is come, baby being laid down, what a spring into the lap, what a clasp of the neck is there! while the child with the keys has to be lifted from the floor like a bag of sand. as patience includes strong action of the mind, the vivacious child has a much better chance of becoming patient than the passive one;--so far are passiveness and patience from being alike. patience is indeed the natural first step in that self-government which is essential to the whole purpose of human life. it is impossible to overrate the importance of this self-government; and therefore it is impossible to overrate the importance of this first step,--the training to patience. and the vivacious child is happy above the apathetic one in being fitted to enter at once upon the training from the earliest moment that the will is naturally capable of action. and now about this training. it must begin before the little creature is capable of voluntary effort. the mother must take its little troubles upon herself, and help it all she can, till the habit of patience is completely formed;--which will be long. she must not only comfort it in its restlessness and inability to wait, but beguile it of its impatience. she must amuse it, and turn away its attention from its grievance, or its object of desire,--never yielding what it ought not to have, and always indulging it where there is no reason for denial. in time, the infant will learn that it can wait, and in what cases it must wait; and from that time, its work of self-control begins. i have before my mind's eye a little child of sensitive nerves and strong will who early showed by her loud impatient cry how she might suffer in after life, if the habit of patience were not timely formed. it was timely formed. she died of scarlet fever before she was four years old; and the self-command that little creature showed amidst the restlessness of her fever and the grievous pain of her sore-throat, was a comfort which will remain for ever to those who mourn her. it of course lessened her own suffering, and it cheered the heart of her wise mother with a joy which lights up her memory. here the great condition was fulfilled which is essential to the work;--the parents are themselves patient and consistent. self-control can never be taught without example. from the beginning an infant can perceive whether the moral atmosphere around it is calm or stormy, and will naturally become calm or stormy accordingly. if its mother scolds the servant, if its father gets into a passion with the elder children, if there is disturbance of mind because a meal is delayed,--if voices grow loud and angry in argument, or there is gloom in the face or manner of any grown person who has a headache, how is the infant to learn to wait and be cheerful under its little troubles?--these little troubles being to it misfortunes as great as it is at all able to bear. i would not cite the old quaker discipline of families as a pattern of what is to be wished in all things. there was too often a want of tenderness, and of freedom and of mirth--such as children, need, and as are quite compatible with the formation of a habit of patience: but in that one respect,--of patience,--how admirable are the examples that many of us have seen! the cultivation of serenity being a primary religious duty with the parents, how the spirit and the habit spread through the children! before they could understand that the grown people about them were waiting for the guidance of "the inward witness," they saw and felt that the temper was that of humble waiting; and they too learned to wait. when set up on a high stool from which they could not get down, and bid to sit still without toys for a prescribed time, how many a restless child learned to subdue his inward chafing, and to sit still till the hand of the clock showed that he might ask to come down! this exercise was a preparation for the silent meeting, where there would be less to amuse his eyes, and no one could tell how long he might have to sit; and how well the majority of quaker children went through this severer test! few of us will approve of this kind of discipline. we think it bad, because unnatural. we think that the trials of a child's patience which come of themselves every day are quite enough for its powers, and, if rightly used, for its training; but the instance shows how powerful is the example of the parents and the habit of the household in training little children to self-control. yes,--the little occasions of every day are quite enough: and if they were not, little could be gained, and much would be lost, by inventing more. there is tyranny in making a lively child sit on a high stool with nothing to do, even though the thing is ordained for its own good; and every child has a keen sense of tyranny. the patience taught by such means cannot be thorough. it cannot be an amiable and cheerful patience, pervading the whole temper. it is much better to use those natural occasions which it is clear that the parent does not create. there is seldom or never a day when something does not happen to irritate a child;--it is hungry, or thirsty, or tired; it gets a tumble, or dislikes cold water, or wants to be petted when its mother is busy; or breaks a toy, or the rain comes when it wants to go out, or pussy runs away from play, or it has an ache or a pain somewhere. all these are great misfortunes for the time to a little child: and if it can learn by degrees to bear them, first by being beguiled of them, and then by being helped through them, and at last by sustaining them alone, there is every hope that the severe trials of after life will be sustained with less effort than is required by these trifles now. a four-year-old child that can turn away and find amusement for itself when its mother cannot attend to it,--and swallow its tears when the rain will not let it sow its garden seeds, and stifle its sobs when it has knocked its elbow, and forgive any one who has broken its toy, and lie still without complaining when it is ill, gives the fairest promise of being able to bear serenely the severest calamities of after life. for my own part, i feel that no spectacle of fortitude in man or woman is more animating and touching than what may be seen in little children, who have seriously entered upon the great work of self-government,--sustained by wise and tender parental help. some time ago, i was in the house with a little girl of three years old, whose throat was one day very sore. she tried in vain to get down some dinner,--cried, was amused, and went to sleep. on waking, some of the soft rice-pudding from our table was tried; but the throat was now worse, and she cried again. to amuse her, she was set up at our table in her little chair, between her mama and me. i saw the desperate efforts she was making to keep down her sobs: and when she looked over to her father, and said softly "i mean to be dood," it was too much for others besides me. her tender father helped her well through it. he told her a long long story about something he had seen that morning; and as her large eyes were fixed on his face, the sobs subsided, and she became absorbed in what he was telling her. that child was as truly an object of reverence to us as any patient sufferer of mature age. the finest opportunity for the cultivation of patience in a household is where there are many children,--boys and girls,--with no great difference of years between them. here, in the first place, the parents have need of all the faith and patience they have, to bear hopefully with the impatience of some of their children. there are moments, hours, and days, in the best households, when the conscientious and tender mother feels her heart rent by the spectacle of the quarrels of her children. it is a truth which had better be at once fully admitted, that where there are many children nearly approaching each other in age, their wills must clash, their passions become excited, and their affections be for the time over-borne. when a mother sees her children scratch and strike, when her ear catches the bitter words of passion between brothers, her heart stands still with grief and dread. but she must be comforted. all may be well if she overrules this terrible necessity as she may. she must remember that the strength of will thus shown is a great power for use in the acquisition of patience. she must remember that the odiousness of passion is not yet evident to her children, as it is to her. she must remember how small is the moral comprehension of a child, and therefore how intense are its desires, and how strong is the provocation when those desires are thwarted. she must remember that time and enlargement of views are what children want to make them men: and that time and enlargement are sure to come to these young creatures, and make men of them, if the parents do their part. her part to-day is to separate the children who cannot agree; to give time and opportunity for their passions to subside, the desire of the moment to pass away, and the affections and the reason to be aroused. she must obtain their confidence apart, and bring them together again when they can forgive and agree. if she finds that such troubles enable her to understand her children better, and reveal their own minds to themselves, and if such failures help them to a more careful self-rule, the event may be well worth the pain. i have said that there are few or no large families of children in which quarrelling does not sometimes occur. but if the quarrelling does not early cease--if the liability does not pass away like the diseases of childhood, it is sadly plain that the fair opportunity of cultivating a habit of patience has been lost or misused. it must be early and watchfully used. every member of the household must be habituated, constantly and as a privilege, to wait and forbear for the sake of others. the father takes the lead--as he ought to do in all good things. his children see in him, from year to year, an example of patient toil--patient and cheerful toil--whether he be statesman, merchant, farmer, shop-keeper, artizan or labourer. the mother comes next,--seen to wait patiently on her sick or helpless infant, and to be forbearing with servants and children, enduring in illness and fatigue, and cheerful through everything. then come the elder children, who must have been long and steadily trained, through early self-control, to wait, not only in tenderness on the helpless infant, but in forbearance on the weakness of those younger and frailer than themselves. then come those of the middle age, who have to wait in such patience as they are capable of under their own personal trials, and the will and pleasure of their parents and elders. and lastly come the little ones, who are likely to have plenty of opportunity for self-command amidst the business and chances of a large family, and the variety of influences ever at work therein. so various a household is a complete little world to children--the discipline of which is no small privilege as being preparatory to that of the larger world upon which they must enter after their habits of mind are formed. to the parents the advantage is inestimable of having this little world, not only under their eye, so that they may timely see how their children are likely to fare morally in the great world of adult life, but under their hand, so that they can, according to their discretion, adapt its influences to the needs of their charge. some households,--and not a few--are made a harsh school, or a sweet home of patience, by the presence of some infirmity of body or mind in some one member. this is a case so frequent, and the circumstance is so important, that i must devote my next pages to it. chapter xii. care of the powers: patience--infirmity. though the great majority of children born into the world have five senses and four limbs, a full-formed brain, and a well-formed frame, there are many thousands in every civilised country that have not: and so many more thousands are interested in their lot, that it is, or ought to be, a subject of wide and deep concern how their case should be treated, for their own sake, and that of all connected with them. it is a matter of great and increasing surprise, when elections of objects for blind and deaf and dumb institutions, or a special census for the purpose occurs, how very numerous are the blind and deaf and dumb: and much greater still is the proportion of persons who, through ill health or accident, lose a limb, or grow up deformed. and i believe the cases of total or partial idiotcy are more numerous even than these. the number of persons thus interested in the subject of bodily infirmity is very large indeed; and it would be a great omission in treating of household education, not to speak of what concerns so many homes. the first impulse of a parental heart, on becoming aware of the infirmity of a child, is to lavish on the sufferer all its tenderness, and thus to strive to compensate to it for what it must forego and suffer from its peculiarity. the impulse, being natural and unselfish, is right; but it is not enough. it is very far indeed from being all that is due to a creature whose helplessness gives it a sacred claim upon its whole race for whatever aid can be afforded it. if it were good that a mother should nurse an infirm child through the day, and guard it all the night:--that she should devote all her time and all her love, and sacrifice all her pleasures to it, and minister to its wishes every hour of its life;--if it were good that she should do all this, it would not be enough. it is not good, and it is not enough. the true claim of an infirm child, as of every other child, is to be made the most of. and no human being was ever yet made the most of by lavish and unchastened indulgence. every human being,--not excepting even the idiot,--has a world of its own, wherein to act and enjoy: and the parent's charge is to enable it to act and enjoy in its own world in the fullest and freest manner possible. let us take the worst case first:--that of the idiot. it is never the case that a human being has no faculties at all. a child whose brain did not act at all, could not live. it could not move, nor swallow or digest food, nor see, nor hear, nor breathe. and it seldom or never happens that it has not many faculties, though the want, in an idiot, of what we call sense makes us too careless in observing what powers he has, and in making what we can of them. from the deficiency of some faculties, and the consequent want of co-operation and balance among his powers, the idiot lacks sense, and must therefore be taken care of all his days, like an infant: but it does not follow that he can never do and enjoy more than an infant. on the contrary, we see, oftener than not, that an idiot has some strong faculties. one may be shockingly gluttonous and sensual: another is desperately orderly: another is always singing: another is wonderful in arithmetic, though nobody can conceive how he learned: another draws every thing he sees: another imitates everything he hears: another is always building clay houses, or cutting wood or paper into shapes: another can always tell the time--day or night--even where there is no clock in the house or within hearing. one will share everything he has to eat with the dog, or the cat, or the bird: another caresses his mother, or brothers and sisters, and follows them about wherever they go; while another gives no heed to anybody, but stands out of doors for hours listening to the wind or the birds, and sits a whole winter evening watching the blazing fire. one will not be ruled, and fights everybody who tries to control him, while another is in a transport or an agony, according as his mother looks pleased or displeased with him. all these tendencies show that some part or other of the brain is alive and active: and it is the parent's business, with this child as with the rest, to make the most that can be made of his brain. as reason cannot be used in his case, there must be all the more diligence in the use of habit: and as he has no reason of his own, that of his family must be made available to him to the utmost. he must be made the family charge; and every member of the household must be admitted into the council held in his behalf. there is hardly a child so young but that it can understand the main points of the special training required, and the reasons for them. there is hardly a child so young but that it can understand that john does not know, as other people do, when to leave off eating; and that this is why the proper quantity is set before him, and no more is given: and there are not a few little ones who will refrain from asking for more of a good thing at table because john is to be trained not to ask for more. if the object is to make john clean and tidy, the youngest will bear cold water, and the trouble of dressing cheerfully, that john may see what other people do, and perhaps learn to imitate them. if john ever sings, some little one will begin to sing when john looks dull; and the family will learn as many tunes as they can to give him a variety. if he is fond of arranging things, they will lead him to the cupboard or the play-room, when it wants putting in order. when he mopes, they will bring him the scissors and paper, or the slate and pencil, or they will empty the box of bricks on the floor, that the pleasant rattle may tempt him to come and build. if, happily, the time should arrive when john may learn to do something useful, every one takes pride in it. at worst, he may perhaps be trained to work the mangle, or to turn the wheel at the rope-walk. his faculty of order may be turned to account by letting him set the dinner and tea-table, and clear away. by a faculty of constructiveness, he may become a fair basket-maker. by his power of imitation, he may learn to dig in the field, or to saw wood, or blow glass, or do other such mechanical work. if the whole family not only love their poor brother, but take his interests fairly to heart, his case may be made something of in one way or another. at worst he will probably be saved from being offensive or annoying to those about him;--a thing almost always practicable in cases of idiotcy from birth: and it is very likely that he will be enabled to pass through life, not only harmless, but busy, and, to some extent, useful, and as happy as his deficient nature permits. this is not a case in which patience can be spoken of as a solace to the individual. he may be saved from the misery of impatience by wise training,--by the formation of habits of quietness, under the rule of steady, gentle authority. this may often be done: but the noble and sweet solace of patience under his restrictions is not for him: for he is unconscious, and does not need it. it remains for those who do need it--for those who suffer for him and by him--for the father who sighs that his son can never enjoy the honour and privilege of toil, or the blessing of a home;--for the mother whose pillow is wet with the tears she sheds over her child's privations;--for the children whose occupations and play are disturbed by the poor brother who wants their playthings, and hides or spoils their books or work. they all have need of much patience; and, under good training, they obtain patience according to their need. from what i have seen, i know that the training of such a being may become a cheerful and hopeful object to his parents, and one which strengthens them to repress his whims and deny his animal appetites, and inflict the pain of their displeasure upon him, in the patient hope of giving him some degree of the privilege of self-government. from what i have seen, i know that the most self-willed and irritable child of such a family may learn never to be angry with john, however passionate at times with others. toys broken by john are not to be cried for;--work spoiled by john is to be cheerfully done over again: and everybody is to help to train john not to do such mischief again. poor john knows nothing of life and its uses. he goes through his share of it, like one walking in a dream, and then passes away without leave-taking. he passes away early; for people in his state rarely live very long. brain is the great condition of life; and an imperfect brain usually brings early death. it is when he has passed away that the importance of poor john's life becomes felt and understood. neighbours may and do reasonably call his departure a blessing; and the parents and brethren may and do reasonably feel it an unspeakable relief from anxiety and restraint. but they mourn him with a degree of sorrow surprising to themselves. when the parents mark the habits of self-government, and the temper of cheerful patience, generated in their remaining children, they feel as if under deep obligations to their dead son, as the instrument of this. and the youngest of the tribe looks round wistfully for john, and daily wishes that he was here, to do what he was fond of doing, and enjoy the little pleasures which were looked upon as particularly his own. if the worst case of infirmity may issue thus, we may turn cheerfully to some which are light in comparison, however sad when looked at by themselves--the cases of blind and deaf children. what is to be made of these? the case of the deaf is unquestionably the worst of the two, when the deficiency is from birth. the subsequent loss of either sense is quite a different matter. then, blindness is the severest privation of the two, from its compulsory idleness, and total exclusion from the objects of the lost sense, while the deaf can always be busy in mind and hands, and retain the most important part of the world of sound in written and printed speech. it is the privation of language which makes the case of those born deaf worse than that of the born blind. those born deaf are dumb; and they are rendered incapable of any high degree of intellectual and moral cultivation, by being cut off from all adequate knowledge of the meaning of language, and from the full reception of most abstract ideas. this is not the place for discussion on this subject. it is enough to say here, that every one who has tried knows that though it is easy to teach a deaf and dumb child what is meant by the words "dog," "sheep," "spoon," "tree," "table," &c., it is found beyond measure difficult to teach it the meaning of "monday," "tuesday," "wednesday," &c., and of "love," "truth," "hatred," "wisdom," and the names of unseen things in general. there is every reason to believe that the most highly educated deaf and dumb persons, who use language readily and prettily, have yet very narrow and superficial minds--from language not being to them natural speech, incessantly bringing them into communication with other minds, but a lesson taught as we teach blind children about colours, which they may speak about without making mistakes, but can never understand. it is necessary for the parents of the deaf and dumb to be aware of these things, if they are to look their child's lot steadily in the face, and learn what is the best that can be made of it. they must apply themselves chiefly to give it what it is least likely to obtain from others--not so much ideas of sight, touch, smell, and taste, as of unseen things. they must ever bear in mind that the great purpose of the human ear and of speech is not so much to convey ideas of sound--sweet and profitable as is all the natural music of the universe--as of unseen things--of the whole world of the spirit, from which their child is naturally shut out by its infirmity. after all that they can do, there will be a sad deficiency; but they must lessen it as much as they can. there is no fear but that the child will, much as others, enjoy the sights which are laid open to it, and be quick and ready in action, according to its ideas. they must arouse in it the pleasure of using its mental faculties; and more carefully still, the satisfaction of moral energy. they must be even more careful with it than with the rest to lead it on to the exercise of self-denial, and a habit of thoughtful conscientiousness, that it may learn from its own moral experience much that it is debarred from learning as others do of the rich kingdom which lies within us all. in this case, above all others, is the moral example of the parents important to the child. other children hear everyday the spoken testimony of their parents in favour of what is good in morals and manners. they hear it in church, and in every house they enter. the deaf child judges by what it sees, and guides itself accordingly. if it sees bad temper and manners, how is it to know of anything better? if it sees at home only love and kindness, just and gentle, has it not an infinitely better chance of becoming loving and gentle itself? the parents must keep a careful guard on their own pity for their defective child. a deaf child has scarcely any notion, as a blind one has, of what it loses; and nothing is more certain than that deaf children are apt to be proud and vain, and to take advantage of the pity which everybody feels for them. knowing little of their own loss, they misunderstand this pity, and are apt to take to themselves the credit of all the notice it brings them, and to grasp at all they can get. a watchful parent knows from her heart that there is no blame in this; but she sees that there is great danger. the child cannot help the liability; but it may be rescued from it. she must not be lavish of indulgence which may be misunderstood. she should let it be as happy as it can in its own way--and the deaf and dumb are usually very brisk and cheerful. what she has to do for it is not to attempt to console it for a privation which it does not feel, but to open to it a higher and better happiness in a humble, occupied, and serene state of mind. she should set before it its own state of privation, notwithstanding any mortification that the disclosure may cause: and when that mortification is painful, she should soothe it by giving, gently and cheerfully, the sweet remedies of humility and patience. in the case of the blind child, the training must be very different. every day, and almost every hour, reminds the blind child of its privation; and its discipline is so severe, that almost any degree of indulgence in the parent would be excusable, if it were not clearly the first duty to consider the ultimate welfare of the child. it is natural to the sighing mother to watch over its safety with a nervous anxiety, to go before it to clear its way, to have it always at her knee, and to make everybody and everything give way to it. but she must remember that her child is not destitute, and for ever helpless, because it has one sense less than other people. it has the wide world of the other four senses to live in, and a vaster mental and moral world than it will ever learn fully to use: and she must let it try what it can make of its possessions. she will find that it learns like others that fire burns and that bruises are disagreeable, and that it can save itself from burns and bruises by using its senses of touch and hearing. she will encourage it in the cheerful work of shifting for itself, and doing, as far as possible, what other people do. the wise and benevolent dr. howe tells us of the children who come to the blind school at boston, that for the first two or three days they are timid and forlorn--having been accustomed to too much care from their mothers, who will not let them cross the floor without being sure that there is nothing in the way. but they presently enter into the free and cheerful spirit of the house, use their faculties, feel their way boldly, and run, climb, swing, and play as merrily as any other children. that school is a little world of people with four senses--not so happy a one as if they had five, but a very good one, nevertheless; sufficiently busy, safe, and cheerful for those who use heartily such powers as they have. this is the way in which the lot of the blind should be viewed by their parents. and even then the deprivation is quite sad enough to require great efforts of patience on every hand. the parents have need of a deep and settled patience when they see that their child has powers which, if he had but eyes, would make him able and happy in some function from which he is now for ever cut off: and the whole family have need of patience for their infirm member when they are gaining knowledge, or drinking in enjoyment through the eye, while he sits dark, and unconscious or mortified. as for him, in his darkness and mortification, there can be no question of his need of patience. how to aid him and supply this need, i shall consider in my next chapter, when treating of the other infirmities which some children have to learn to bear. chapter xiii. care of the powers: patience--infirmity. the smaller misfortunes which we now turn to, under the head of infirmity--the loss of a limb, the partial loss of a sense, deformity and sickness--are scarcely less afflictive to the parent than those we have considered, because they are even more trying to the child. the sufferer is fully conscious of these: and the parents' heart is sore at the spectacle of its mortifications. what can be done to help it to a magnanimous patience? first, there must be the fullest confidence between the parents and the child. it can open its swelling heart to no one else; for the depth of its feeling renders it quite unable to speak of its sufferings to any one, unless allured to do so; and no one can or ought to allure it to this confidence, except its parents, or in case of failure from them. it may be thought strange that this apparently natural act should be set before the parents as a duty: but i speak from knowledge; and from the knowledge of so many cases that i am compelled to believe that the very last subject on which parents and child speak together is that on which it is most necessary to the sufferer to have spoken sympathy. some parents have not courage to face the case themselves, and evade the painful thought from day to day. some feel for their child that sort of deference which it is natural to feel for the afflicted, and wait for the sufferer to speak. some persuade themselves that it is better for the child not to recognise the trial expressly, and repel by forced cheerfulness the sufferer's advances towards confidence. all this is wrong. i have known a little crippled girl grow up to womanhood in daily pain of heart from the keen sense of her peculiarity, almost without uttering a syllable to any human being of that grief which cursed her existence; and suffering in mind and character irreparably from the restraint. she got over it at last, to a considerable degree, and became comparatively free and happy; but nothing could ever compensate to her for her long bondage to false shame, or repair the mischief done to the action of her mind by its being made to bear unrelieved weight which it had naturally power to throw off. i know another sufferer from the same misfortune whose heart was early opened by genial confidence, and who throve accordingly. she had to bear all the pain which a lively and sensitive child must feel in being unable to play and dance as others do, and being so marked an object as to be subject to staring in the street, and to the insulting remarks of rude children as she passed. but the sympathy of her protectors bore her through till her mind was strong enough to protect itself; and she has come out of the struggle free and gay, active and helpful to a marvellous degree--even graceful, making a sort of plaything of her crutch, and giving constant joy to her friends, and relief to strangers, by her total freedom from false shame. i have known deafness grow upon a sensitive child, so gradually as never to bring the moment when her parents felt impelled to seek her confidence; and the moment therefore never arrived. she became gradually borne down in health and spirits by the pressure of her trouble, her springs of pleasure all poisoned, her temper irritated and rendered morose, her intellectual pride puffed up to an insufferable haughtiness, and her conscience brought by perpetual pain of heart into a state of trembling soreness--all this, without one word ever being offered to her by any person whatever of sympathy or sorrow about her misfortune. now and then, some one made light of it; now and then, some one told her that she mismanaged it, and gave advice which, being inapplicable, grated upon her morbid feelings; but no one inquired what she felt, or appeared to suppose that she did feel. many were anxious to show kindness, and tried to supply some of her privations; but it was too late. she was shut up, and her manner appeared hard and ungracious while her heart was dissolving in emotions. no one knew when she stole out of the room, exasperated by the earnest talk and merry laugh that she could not share, that she went to bolt herself into her own room, and sob on the bed, or throw herself on her knees, to pray for help or death. no one knew of her passionate longing to be alone while she was, for her good, driven into society; nor how, when by chance alone for an hour or two, she wasted the luxury by watching the lapse of the precious minutes. and when she grew hard, strict, and even fanatical in her religion, no one suspected that this was because religion was her all--her soul's strength under agonies of false shame, her wealth under her privations, her refuge in her loneliness: while her mind was so narrow as to require that what religion was to her--her one pursuit and object--it should be everybody else. in course of years, she, in a great measure, retrieved herself, though still conscious of irreparable mischief done to her nature. all this while, many hearts were aching for her, and the minds of her family were painfully occupied in thinking what could be done for her temper and her happiness. the mistake of reserve was the only thing they are answerable for: a mistake which, however mischievous, was naturally caused by the very pain of their own sympathy first, and the reserve of the sufferer afterwards. from the moment that a child becomes subject to any infirmity, a special relation between him and his mother begins to exist: and their confidence must become special. she must watch for, or make occasions for speaking to him about his particular trial; not often, nor much at a time, but so as to leave an opening for the pouring out of his little heart. if he is not yet conscious of his peculiarity, this is the gentlest and easiest way in which he can be made so. if he is conscious, he must have some pain at his heart which he will be the better for confiding. hump-backed people are generally said to be vain, haughty, fond of dress, forward and talkative, irritable and passionate. if not so, they are usually shy and timid. i cannot see anything in their peculiarity to cause the first-mentioned tendencies: and i believe they arise from the mismanagement of their case. the fond mother and pitying friends may naturally forget that the child does not see himself as they see him, and fancy that they soothe his mortifications by saying whatever they can say in favour of his appearance--letting him know that he has pretty hair, or good eyes. they may even dress him fine, to make up to him in one way for his faults of appearance in another. under the idea of encouraging him under his supposed mortifications, they may lead him on to be forward and talkative. and then again, his mortifications, when they come upon him unprepared, may well make him irascible. how much of this might be obviated, as well as the shyness and timidity of those who are left to themselves, by timely confidence between the mother and child! when they are alone together, calm and quiet, let her tell him that he does not look like other children, and that he will look less like other people as he grows older. never let her tell him that this is of no great consequence--never let her utter the cant that is talked to young ladies at schools, that the charms of the mind are everything, and those of the form and face nothing. this is not true; and she ought to know that it is not: and nothing but truth will be strong enough to support him in what he must undergo. let her not be afraid to tell him the worst. he had better hear it from her; and it will not be too much for him, if told in a spirit of cheerful patience. the child, like the man, never has a happier hour than that which succeeds the reception of bad news, if the nobler faculties are allowed their free play. if such a child hears from his mother that he will always be ugly-shaped and odd-looking,--that he will not be able to play as other boys do, or will be laughed at when he tries; that he will be mocked at and called "my lord" in the streets, and so on, and yet that all these things will not make him unhappy if he can bear them; and if they go on to consult how he may bear them, and she opens out to him something of the sweet pleasures of endurance, he will come out of the consultation exhilarated, and perhaps proudly longing to meet his mortifications, and try his strength. such pride must have a fall,--like all the pride of childhood,--and many an hour of depression must he know for every one of exhilaration: but his case is put into his own hands, and there is every hope that he will conquer, through patience, at last. and what a refuge he has in his mother! how well she will now know his feelings and his needs! and how easy and natural it will be to him henceforth to confide in her! and her knowledge of his secret mind will enable her to oversee and regulate the conduct of the rest of the household towards him, so as to guard against his being treated with an indulgence which he can dispense with, or his receiving in silence wounds to his feelings which might rankle. the object is, with sufferers under every kind of conscious infirmity, to make them hardy in mind,--saving them from being hardened. they must know in good time that they have a difficult and humbling lot, and what its difficulties and humiliations are,--their noblest faculties being at the same time roused to meet them. it is the rousing of these noble faculties which makes the hour of confidence one of exhilaration: and when the actual occasion of trial arises, when the cripple is left out of the cricket-match, and the deaf child misses the joke or entertaining story, and the hump-back hears the jibe behind him,--there is hope that the nobler faculties will be obedient to the promised call, and spread the calm of patience over the tumult of the sufferer's soul. but, while the infirm child is encouraged to take up the endurance of his infirmity as an object and an enterprise, he must not be allowed to dwell too much on it, nor on the peculiar features of his condition; or his heroism will pass over into pride, and his patience into self-complacency. life and the world are before him, as before others; and one circumstance of lot and duty, however important, must not occupy the place of more than one,--either in his confidences with his mother, or in his own mind. the more he is separated from others by his infirmity, the more carefully must his interests and duties be mixed up with those of others, in the household and out of it. companionship in every way must be promoted all the more, and not the less, because of the eternal echo within him, "the heart knoweth its own bitterness, and the stranger intermeddleth not with its joy." what has been said thus far about patience will serve for cases of sickness, as well as for other trials among children. i may add that i think it a pity to lavish indulgence--privileges--upon a sick child, for two reasons;--that such indulgence is no real comfort or compensation to the suffering child, who is too ill to enjoy it: and that it is witnessed by others, and remembered by the patient himself when he has forgotten his pain, so as to cause sickness to be regarded as a state of privilege; a persuasion likely to lead to fancies about health, and an exaggeration of ailments. all possible tenderness, of course, there should be, and watchfulness to amuse the mind into forgetfulness of the body: but the less fuss and unusual indulgence the better for the child's health of body and mind, and the purer the lesson of patience which he may bring out of his sickness. illness is a great evil, little to be mitigated by any means of diversion that can be used: and a child usually trained to patience, may be trusted to bear the evil well, if not misled by false promises: and it is much kinder to him to let him rest on a quiet and steady tenderness, than to promise and offer him indulgences which will be longed for hereafter, but which wholly disappoint him now, and add another trial to the many which put his patience to the proof. chapter xiv. care of the powers.--love. it appears to me, that much disappointment in the results of education, as in other departments of life, arises from the confusion we fall into about human affections,--mixing up things which do not belong to each other, and then being disappointed at a mixed result. for instance, we speak of love as if it were one affection; or at most of two kinds--one a passion and the other an affection: whereas, there are many kinds of love, as distinct from one another as hope and patience. besides what is commonly called the passion of love, there are other kinds which differ as essentially from one another, as from this. it is commonly, but as i think, hastily, supposed that a child's love of her doll is the same affection which will be fixed hereafter on a schoolfellow, on her parents, and on suffering fellow-creatures. it is supposed to be the same affection, employed on different objects: and the parent is perplexed and shocked when the little creature who cannot be parted from her doll, shows indifference towards her family, and has no sympathy with a beggar, or a sick neighbour. if the parents will put away their perplexity and dismay, and set themselves to learn from what is before their eyes, they may discover what will comfort and direct them. with the passion of love, as it is called, we have nothing to do here, but to give an anecdote by the way. a little girl was telling a story to her father, when they fell in with the kind of perplexity, i have spoken of. she told of a knight who once loved a lady, and of all the hard and troublesome things the knight did to gratify the wishes of the lady: and how, at last, when the lady did not choose to marry him, he carried her off, and shut her up in a castle, and gave her everything he could think of to make her happy: but she could not enjoy all these fine things, because she pined to get home. "oh!" said the father, "she did wish to get out, then." "yes! she begged and prayed of the knight to let her go home: but he loved her so much that he would not." "well: but you said he did everything he could to gratify her: why was that?" "because he loved her so much." "what! he did everything to please her because he loved her so much: and then he would not let her go home as she wished, because he loved her so much! how can that be?" the child thought for awhile, and then said "i suppose he had two loves for her: and one made him do almost everything that she liked; and the other made him want that she should do what _he_ liked." if parents could see thus plainly the difference between the several kinds of love which their children should experience, it would be well for all parties. a mother who intensely loves her little prattler, is mortified that the child appears to have but a very moderate love for her in return: and she comforts herself with the hope that the child's affection will strengthen as it grows, till it becomes a fair return for her own. she does not perceive that the child already entertains an affection much like her own,--only, not for her, but for something else. a little girl who had to lose her leg, promised to try to lie still if she might have her doll in her arms: and wonderfully still she lay, clasping her doll. when it was over, the surgeon thoughtlessly said, "now shall i cut off your doll's leg?" "oh! no, no!" cried the child, in an agony of mind far greater than she had shown before: "not my doll's leg;--don't hurt my doll!" and she could hardly be comforted. here was an affection the same as the mother's,--and as strong and true: but of a different kind from that which children can ever feel for parents; for it is purely instinctive, while the love of children for parents is made up of many elements, and must slowly grow out of not only a natural power of attachment, but a long experience of hope, reliance, veneration and gratitude. this instinctive love is a pretty thing to witness: as in the case of a very little child who had a passionate love of flowers. she would silently carry out her little chair in the summer morning, and sit down in the middle of the flower-bed, and be overheard softly saying, "come you little flower--open, you little flower! when will you open your pretty blue eye?" this is charming; and so it is to see an infant fondling a kitten, or feeding the brood of chickens, and a girl singing lullaby to her doll. but it must ever be remembered, that this is the lowest form of human affection till it is trained into close connection with the higher sentiments. what it is when left to itself--and it will too probably be left to itself by parents who are satisfied with any manifestation of affection in children;--what it is when left to itself may be seen in some disgusting spectacles which occasionally meet our eyes among the mature and the old. we see it in the young mother who spoils her child--who loves her child with so low a love, that she indulges it to its hurt. we see it in the aged mother, who loves her manly son as a bear loves its cub;--only with more selfishness, for she cannot consider his good, but lavishes ill-humour and fondness on him by turns. we see it in the man who gives his mind to the comfort of his horse; and never a look or a word to a hungry neighbour. we see it in a woman, who opens her arms to every dog or cat that comes near her, whose eye brightens, and whose cheek mantles while she feeds her canaries, though she never had a friendship, nor cares for any human being but such as are under five years old. thus low is this instinctive affection when left to itself. but it is inestimable when linked on to other and higher kinds of love, and especially to that which is the highest of all, and worthy to gather into itself all the rest,--benevolence. it is easy to form this link when its formation is desired: and it is terribly easy to neglect it when its importance is not perceived. the child must be led to desire the good of the cat, or bird, or doll, to the sacrifice of its own inclinations. it must not hurt pussy, or throw dolly into a corner, (every child believing that dolly can feel) nor frighten the bird: and moreover, it must be made to discharge punctually, even to its own inconvenience, the duty of feeding the live favourite, and cherishing the doll. this leads on naturally to a cherishing and forbearing love of the baby-brother or sister: and next, perhaps, the parents may be surprised by an offer of affection in sickness which never showed itself while they were in health. a child who receives caresses carelessly, or runs away from them to caress the kitten, (which, perhaps, runs away in its turn,) will come on tiptoe to his mother's knee when she is ill, and stroke her face, or nurse her foot in his lap, or creep up into her easy chair, and nestle there quietly for an hour at a time: and yet perhaps this same child will appear as indifferent as before when his mother is well again, and does not seem to want his good offices. from home, the affection may next be led a little further abroad. this must be done very cautiously, and the expansion of benevolence by no means hurried or made a task of. i knew a little girl who, at four years old, was full of domestic benevolence--capable of denying herself noise and amusement on fitting occasions, and never happier than when waiting on and cherishing a sick person. one day she seemed so much interested about a poor woman who had come to beg, that her mother took her into consultation about what could be done for the woman and her children. when told how nearly naked the poor children were, and how they had no more clothes to put on, though the weather was growing colder and colder, she was asked whether she would not like to give her blue frock to one of them. in a low earnest voice, she said "no." the case was again represented to her; and when, with some little shrinking, she again said "no," her mother saw that she had gone rather too far, and had tried the young faculty of benevolence beyond its strength. she watched and waited, and is repaid. in her daughter, warm domestic affections co-exist with a more than ordinary benevolence. this benevolence is the third form in which we have already seen what is called love. can anything be more clearly marked than the difference between these three;--the love that leads to marriage; fondness for objects which can be idolised; and benevolence which has no fondness in it, but desires the diffusion of happiness, and acts independently of personal regards? none of these yield the sort of affection which the heart of the parent desires, and which is essential to family happiness. a child may kill its pet bird, or cat, with kindness, and go out into the street in the early morning, with its halfpenny in its hand (as i have known a child do) to do good with it to somebody;--a child may have these two kinds of love strong in him, and yet show but a weak attachment to the people about him. this attachment is another kind of love from those we have been considering. it is all-important to the character of the individual, and to the happiness of the family circle: and it is therefore of consequence that its nature should be understood, and its exercise wisely cared for. it is some time before the infant shows attachment to any one. there are many signs of hope and fear in an infant before it gives any token of affection; its arms are held out first to its nurse; and she usually continues the one to whom the child clings, and from whom it will not be separated. beyond the nurse, the child's attachments sometimes appear unaccountable. it will be happy with some one person in the house, and make a difficulty of going to any one else: and the reason of this may not be plain to anybody. happy is the mother if she be the one; and a severe trial it is to a loving mother when she is not the one. of course, if the misfortune be owing to any fault in herself,--if she be irritable, stern, or in any way teasing to the child,--she cannot wonder that he does not love her. if she be tender, gentle, playful, and wise, and still her child loves some one else in the house better, it is a sore trial, certainly; but it must be made the best of. of course, the mother will strive to discover what it is in another person that attaches the child; and if she can attain the quality, she will. but it is probably that which cannot be attained by express efforts,--a power of entering into the little mind, and meeting its thoughts and feelings. some persons have this power naturally much more than others; and practice may have given them great facility in using it; while the sense of inexperience, and the strong anxiety that a young mother has, may easily be a restraint on her faculties in dealing with her child. i have heard the mothers of large families declare (in the most private conversation) in so many instances, that their younger children are of a higher quality than the older, and this from an age so early as to prevent the difference being attributed to experience in teaching, that i have been led to watch and think on the subject: and i think that one powerful cause is that the mother has naturally more freedom and playfulness and tact in her intercourse with her younger children than with the elder, and thereby fixes their attachment more strongly: and there are no bounds to the good which arises from strong affections in a child. happy the mother who is the object of her child's strongest love from the beginning!--happy, that is, if she makes a good use of her privilege. she must never desire more love than the child has to give. the most that it can give will be less than she would like, and far less than her own for it: but she will not obtain more, but only endanger what she has, by making the child conscious of his affections, and by requiring tokens which do not manifest themselves spontaneously. it should be enough for a mother that her child comes to her with his little troubles and pleasures, and shows by his whole behaviour that she is of more importance to him than any one else in the world. if it be so, there will be times when he will spring into her lap, and throw his arms round her neck, and give her the thrilling kiss that she longs to have every day and every hour. but the sweetness of these caresses will be lost when they cease to be spontaneous; and the child will leave off springing into the lap, if it is to be teased for kisses when there. there are few products of the human mind which are to be had good upon compulsion; and affection least of all. i knew a little boy who was brought home from being at nurse in the country, and shown to his conscientious, anxious, but most formal mother. the child clung to his nurse's neck, hid his face on her shoulder, and screamed violently. but his mother's voice was heard above his noise, saying solemnly, "look at me, my dear. nurse is going away, and you will not see her any more. you must love _me_ now." whether she thus gained her child's love, my readers may conjecture. the mother who is first in her child's affection is under the serious responsibility of imparting the treasure to others. she takes her whole household into her own heart; and she must open her little one's heart to take in all likewise. she must associate all in turn in his pursuits and pleasures, till his love has spread through the house, and he can be happy and cherished in every corner of it. the mother who sees some one else more beloved than herself,--the servant, perhaps, or an elder child of her own,--must not lose heart, much less temper, or all is lost. it is possible that her turn may never come: but it is far more probable that it will, if she knows how to wait for it. she must go on doing her part as perseveringly and, if it may be, as cheerfully as if her heart was satisfied; and sooner or later the child will discover, never to forget, what a friend she is. moreover, if her mind and manner are not such as to win a child in his early infancy, they may suit his needs at a later stage of his mind. i have observed that the mothers who are most admirable at some seasons of their children's lives fall off at others. i have seen a mother who had extraordinary skill in bringing out and training her children's faculties before they reached their teens, and who was all-sufficient for them then, fail them sadly as a friend and companion in the important years which follow seventeen. and i have seen a mother who could make no way with her children in their early years, and who keenly felt how nearly indifferent they were to her, while her whole soul and mind were devoted to them,--i have seen such a mother idolised by her daughters when they became wise and worthy enough to have her for a friend. i mention these things for comfort and encouragement: and who is more in need of comfort and encouragement than the mother who, loving her child as mothers should, meets with not only a less than adequate, but a less than natural return? there is one case more sad and more solemn than this; the case of the unloving and unloved child. there are some few human beings in whom the power of attachment is so weak that they stand isolated in the world, and seem doomed to a hermit existence amidst the very throng of human life. if such are neglected, they are lost. they must sink into a slough of selfishness, and perish. and none are so likely to be neglected as those who neither love nor win love. if such an one is not neglected, he may become an able and useful being, after all; and it is for the parents to try this, in a spirit of reverence for his mysterious nature, and of pity for the privations of his heart. they will search out and cherish, by patient love, such little power of attachment as he has: and they will perhaps find him capable of general kindliness, and the wide interests of benevolence, though the happiness of warm friendships and family endearment is denied him. such an one can never take his place among the highest rank of human beings, nor can know the sweetest happiness that life can yield. but by the generous love of his parents, and of all whom they can influence to do his nature justice, his life may be made of great value to himself and others, and he may become respected for his qualities, as well as for his misfortune. chapter xv. care of the powers.--veneration. among the great blessings which are shared by the whole human race, one of the chief is its universal power of veneration. i call this a universal power, because there is no human being, (except the idiot) in whom it is not inherent from his birth: and i think i may say, that there is none in whom it does not exist, more or less, till his death. unhappy influences may check or pervert it: but there is no reason to believe that it can be utterly destroyed. the grinning scoffer, who laughs at everything serious, who despises every man but himself, and who is insensible to the wonders and charms of nature, yet stands in awe of something,--if it be nothing better than rank and show, or brute force, or the very power of contempt in others which he values so much in himself. send for such an one into the presence of the queen, or bring him to the bar of the house of commons, or ask him to dinner in a sumptuous palace, and, however far gone he may be in contempt, he will be awe-struck. set him down face to face with a man who makes game of everything he does not understand, (and that will be almost everything that exists) and he will have a respect for that man. if you can bring his mind into contact with any objects low enough to excite his degraded faculty of veneration, you will find that the faculty is still there. it appears to be indeed inextinguishable. we have, as usual, two things to take heed to in regard to this great and indispensable power of the mind. first, to take care that the power neither runs riot, nor is neglected. and next, to direct it to its proper objects. i. the faculty, like all others, is of unequal strength in different people;--in children, as well as in grown persons. we see one man who seems to have no self-reliance or freedom of action in anything; whose life is one long ague fit of superstition, from that cowardly dread of god which he means for religion: who takes anybody's word for everything, from a fear of using his own faculties, and who is overwhelmed in the presence of rank, wealth, or ability superior to his own. we see another man careless, and contemptuous, and self-willed, from a want of feeling of what there is in the universe, and in his fellow-men superior to his faculties, and mysterious to his understanding. and in the merest infants, we may discern, by careful watching, a difference no less marked. one little creature will reach boldly after everything it sees, and buffet its playthings and the people about it, and make itself heard and attended to whenever it so pleases, and has to be taught and trained to lie quiet and submissive. and another of the same age will watch with a shrinking wonder whatever is new or mysterious, and be shy before strangers, and has to be taught and trained to examine things for itself, and to make free with the people about it. such being the varieties in the strength of the natural faculty, the training of it must vary accordingly. as i have said before, no human faculty needs to be repressed; because no human faculty is in itself bad. where any one power appears to be excessive, we are not to set to work to vex and mortify it: but rather, to bring up to it those antagonist faculties which ought to balance it, and which, in such a case, clearly want strengthening. if, for instance, a child appears to have too much of this faculty of veneration--if it fancies a mystery in everything that happens, and yields too easily to its companions, and loves ghost stories which yet make it ill, and is always awe-struck and dreaming about something or other--that child is not to be laughed at, nor to be led to despise or make light of what it cannot understand. that child has not too much veneration: for no one can ever have too much of the faculty. the mischief lies in his having too little of something else;--too little self-respect; too little hope; too little courage. let him continue to exercise and enjoy freely his faculty of wonder. his mother should tell him of things that are really wonderful and past finding out: and as he grows old enough, let her point out to him that all things in nature are wonderful, and past our finding out, from the punctuality of the great sun and blessed moon, to the springing of the blade of grass. let her sympathise in his feeling that there is something awful in the thunderstorm, and in the incessant roll of the sea. let her express for him, as far as may be, his unutterable sense of the weakness and ignorance of child or man in the presence of the mighty, ever-moving universe, and of the awful unknown power which is above and around us, wherever we turn. let her show respect to every sort of superiority, according to its kind--to old age, to scholarship, to skill of every sort, to social rank and office; and above all, to the superiority that goodness gives. let her thus cherish and indulge her child's natural faculty, and permit no one else to thwart it. but she must give her utmost pains to exercise at the same time his inquiring and knowing faculties, and his courage and self-respect. among the many wonders which she cannot explain, there are many which she can. he should be encouraged to understand as much as anybody understands, and especially of those things which he is most likely to be afraid of. he should be made to feel what power is given to him by such knowledge: and led to respect this power in himself as he would in any one else. i knew a little child whose reverence for nature was so strong as almost to overpower some other faculties. she was town-bred: and whenever it chanced that she was out in the country for more than a common walk, she was injuriously excited, all day long. she was not only in a state of devout adoration to the maker of all she saw: but she felt towards the trees, and brooks, and corn-fields as if they were alive, and she did not dare to interfere with them. one day, some companions carried home some wild strawberry roots for their gardens, and persuaded her to do the same. she did so, in a great tremor. before she had planted her roots, she had grown fond of them, as being dependent on her; and she put them into the ground very tenderly and affectionately. as it was now near noon, of course she found her strawberries withered enough when she next went to look at them, as they lay drooping in the hot sun. she bethought herself, in her consternation, of a plan for them: ran in for a little chair: put it over the roots, stuffing up with grass every space which could let the sunshine in; watered the roots, and left them, with the sense of having done a very daring thing. it was sunset before she could go to her garden again. when she removed the chair, there were the strawberries, fresh and strong, with leaves of the brightest green! it was a rapturous moment to this superstitious child--this, in which she felt that she had meddled with the natural growth of something, and with success. and it was a profitable lesson. she took to gardening, and to trying her power over nature in other ways, losing some superstition at every step into the world of knowledge, and gaining self-respect (a highly necessary direction of the spirit of reverence) with every proof of the power which knowledge confers. what the parent has to do for the child in whom the sentiment of reverence appears disproportionate, is to give him power in himself, in every possible way, that he may cease to be overwhelmed with the sense of power out of himself on every hand. if he can become possessed of power of conscience, his religious fear will become moderated to wholesome awe. if he can become possessed of power of understanding, the mysteries of nature will stimulate instead of depressing his mind. if he can attain to power of sympathy, he will see men as they are, and have a fellow-feeling with them, through all the circumstances of rank and wealth which once wore a false glory in his eyes. if he can attain a due power of self-reliance, he will learn that his own wonderful faculties and unbounded moral capacities should come in for some share of his reverence, and be brought bravely into action in the universe, instead of being left idle by the wayside, making obeisance incessantly to everything that passes by, while they ought to be up and doing. what should be done with the pushing, fearless child, who seems to stand in awe of nobody, is plain enough. as i have said, he reverences _something_: for no human being is without the faculty. his parents must find out what it is that does excite his awe: and, however strange may be the object, they must sympathise in the feeling. i have known a fearless child of three reverence his brother of four and a half. we may laugh; but it was no laughing matter, but a very interesting one, to see the little fellow watch every movement of his brother, give him credit for profound reasons in everything he did, and humbly imitate as much as he could. supposing such a child to be deficient generally in reverence, it would be a tremendous mistake in the parents to check this one exercise of it. they should, in such a case, carefully observe the rights of seniority among the children; avoid laughing at the follies of the elder, or needlessly pointing out his faults, in the presence of the younger, while they daily strive to raise the standard of both. they must also lead the imagination of the little one to contemplate things which he must feel to be at once real and beyond his comprehension. they must, at serious moments, lead his mind higher than he was aware it would go, even till it sinks under his sense of ignorance. they must carry his thoughts down into depths which he never dreamed of, and where the spirit of awe will surely lay hold upon him. i do not believe there is any child who cannot be impressed with a serious, plain account of some of the wonders of nature; with a report, ever so meagre, of the immensity of the heavens, whose countless stars, the least of which we cannot understand, are for ever moving, in silent mystery, before our eyes. i do not believe there are many children that may not be deeply impressed by the great mystery of brute life, if their attention be duly fixed upon it. let the careless and confident child be familiarised, not only with the ant and the bee for their wonderful instinct, but with all living creatures as inhabitants of the same world as himself, and at the same time, of a world of their own, as we have; a world of ideas, and emotions, and pleasures, which we know nothing whatever about,--any more than they know the world of our minds. i do not believe there is any child who would not look up with awe to a man or woman who had done a noble act,--saved another from fire or drowning, or told the truth to his own loss or peril, or visited the sick in plague-time, or the guilty in jail. i do not believe there is any child who would not look up with awe to a man who was known to be wise beyond others; to have seen far countries; to have read books in many languages; or to have made discoveries among the stars, or about how earth, air, and water are made. if it be so, who is there that may not be impressed at last by the evident truth that all that men have yet known and done is as nothing compared with what remains to be known and done: that the world-wide traveller is but the half-fledged bird flitting round the nest: that the philosopher is but as the ant which spends its little life in bringing home half a dozen grains of wheat: and that the most benevolent man is grieved that he can do so little for the solace of human misery, feeling himself like the child who tries to wipe away his brother's tears, but cannot heal his grief! who is there that cannot be impressed by the grave pointing out of the mystery of life, and the vastness of knowledge which lie around and before him; and by the example of him who did none but noble and generous deeds, and bore the fiercest sufferings, and felt contempt for nothing under heaven! how can it but excite reverence to show that he, even he, was himself full of reverence, and incapable of contempt! ii. having said thus much about nourishing and balancing the faculty of reverence, i need only point out the directions in which it should be trained. the point on which a child's veneration will first naturally fix will be power. it must be the parents' first business to fix that veneration on authority, instead of mere power. instead of the power to shut up in a closet, or to whip, the child must reverence the authority which reveals itself in calm control and gentle command. the parents must be the first objects of the child's disciplined reverence. even here, in this first clear case, the faculty cannot work well without sympathy: and the child must have sympathy from the parents themselves. he must see that his parents respect each other; that they consider one another's authority unquestionable in the household; and that they reverence _their_ parent--if granny be still among them. beyond this, there is no reason why the sympathy between parents and children should not be simple, constant, and true, as to their objects of reverence. the child may revere as very wise, some person whom the parents know not to be so: but they may join their child in revering the wisdom which they know to be his ideal. the child may go into an enthusiasm about some questionable hero,--the exemplar of some virtue which the parents feel to be of a rather low order: but they will sympathise in the homage to virtue--which is the main point. they may be secretly amused at their child's reverence for the constable: but they feel the same in regard to that of which the constable is the representative to the child--the law. they will lead him on with them in their advancing reverence for knowledge; for that moral and intellectual knowledge united which constitute wisdom; and will thus turn away his regards from dwelling too much on outward distinctions, which might otherwise inspire undue awe. yet nearer will their hearts draw to his in veneration for goodness; for intrepid truthfulness, for humble fidelity, for cheerful humility, for gentle charity. and at the ultimate point, their hearts must become one with his; in the presence of the unknown; for there we are all,--the oldest and the youngest--the wisest and the weakest,--but little children, waiting to learn, and desiring to obey. chapter xvi. care of the powers.--truthfulness. we come now to consider a moral quality whose importance cannot be overrated, yet about which there is more unsettledness of view and perplexity of heart among parents than about, perhaps, any other. every parent is anxious about the truthfulness of his child: but whether this virtue is to come by nature, or by gift, or by training, many an one is sorely perplexed to know. so few children are truthful in all respects and without variation, that we may well doubt whether the quality can be inborn. and the cases are so many of children otherwise good--even conscientious in other respects--who talk at random, and say things utterly untrue, that i do not wonder that those who hold low views of human nature consider this a constitutional vice, and a hereditary curse. i am very far from believing this: and i will plainly say what i do believe. i believe that the requisites of a habit of truthfulness lie in the brain of every child that is born; but that the truthfulness itself has to be taught, as the speech which is to convey it has to be taught; by helping the child to the use of his natural powers. the child has by nature the ear, the lungs, the tongue, the palate, and the various and busy mind,--the requisites for speech: but he does not speak unless incited by hearing it from others, and by being himself led on to attain the power. in a somewhat resembling manner, every child has more or less natural sense of what is just in feeling and action, and what is real in nature, and how to present his ideas to another mind. here are the requisites to truthfulness of speech: but there is much to be learned, and much to overcome, before the practice of truthfulness can be completely formed, and firmly established. if the case is once understood, we shall know how to set about our work, and may await the event without dismay in the worst cases, though in all with the most careful vigilance. is it not true that different nations, even christian nations, vary more in regard to truthfulness than perhaps any other moral quality? is it not true that one or two continental nations fall below us in regard to this quality, while they far excel us in kindliness and cheerfulness of temper, and pleasantness of manners? and does not this difference arise from their thinking kindliness and cheerfulness more important than sincerity and accuracy of speech? and is not our national superiority in regard to the practice of truth chiefly owing to its being our national point of honour, and our fixed supposition as a social habit? do not these facts tend to show that the practice of truthfulness is the result of training? and that we may look for it with confidence as the result of good training? now, what are the requisites, and what the difficulties that we have to deal with? has not every child a keen sense of right and justice, which he shows from the earliest time that he can manifest any moral judgment at all? he may be injurious and unjust to another, from selfishness and passion: but can he not feel injustice done to himself with the infallibility of an instinct, and claim his rights with the acuteness of a lawyer? is there anything more surprising to us in the work of education than every child's sense of his rights, and need of unerring justice, till he is far enough advanced generously to dispense with it? here we have the perception of moral truth for one requisite. another requisite is such good perceptive power as informs a child truly of outward facts. there is no natural power which varies more in different subjects than this. one child sees everything as it is, within its range. another child sees but little, being taken up with what it thinks or imagines. a third sees wrongly, being easily deceived about colours and forms, and the order in which things happen, from its senses being dull, or its faculties of observation being indolent. i have known a child declare an object to be green when it was grey; or a man in a field to be a giant; or a thing to have happened in the morning which took place in the afternoon: and one need but observe how witnesses in a court of justice vary in their testimony about small matters regarding which they are quite disinterested, to see that the same imperfection in the perceptive faculties goes on into mature age. it is plain that these faculties must be exercised and trained very carefully, if the child is to be made accurate in its statements. another and most important requisite is that the child should, from the beginning, believe that truthfulness is a duty. this belief must be given on authority: for the obligation to truth is not, as i have said, instinctive, but a matter of reasoning, such as a child is not capable of entering into. he will receive it, easily and permanently, from the assurance and example of his parents; but he does not, in his earliest years, see it for himself. an affectionate child, thinking of a beloved person, will tell his parent that he has just seen and talked with that person, who is known to be a hundred miles off. the parent is shocked: and truly there is cause for distress; for it is plain that the child has as yet no notion of the duty of truthfulness; but the parent must not, in his fear, aggravate the case, and run into the conclusion that the child loves lying. the case probably is that he says what is pleasant to his affections, without being aware that there is a more serious matter to be attended to first: a thing which he may hereafter be shocked not to have known. i happen to remember at this moment, three persons, now conscientiously truthful, who in early childhood were in the habit of telling, not only wonderful dreams, but most wonderful things that they had seen in their walks, on the high-road or the heath; giants, castles, beautiful ladies riding in forests, and so on. in all these cases, the parents were deeply distressed, and applied themselves accordingly, first to check the practice of narration, and next to exercise the perceptive and reflective powers of the children, so as to enable them to distinguish clearly the facts they saw from the visions they called up before their mind's eye. the appeal to conscience they left for cases where their child had clearer notions of right and wrong. any one of these children would, i believe, at that very time, have suffered much rather than say what he knew to be false, from any motive of personal fear or hope. as i said, all these three are now eminently honourable and trustworthy persons. the chief final requisite is, of course, conscientiousness. when the child becomes capable of self-knowledge and self-government, this alone can be relied on for such a confirmation of the habit of truth telling, or such a correction of any tendency to inaccuracy, as may carry the young probationer through all temptations from within and from without, steady in the practice of strict truth. when all these requisites are combined,--when the child feels truly, sees truly, and is aware of the duty of speaking truly, the practice of truthfulness becomes as natural and unfailing as if it originated in an instinct. i remember an instance of the strange, unbalanced, unprincipled state of mind of a child, who was capable of telling a lie, and persisting in it, at the very time that she was conscientious to excess about some of her duties, and her sense of justice (in regard to her own rights) ran riot in her. it is an odd and a sad story; but instructive from its very strangeness. she was asked by her mother one day whether she had not played battledore and shuttlecock before breakfast. from some levity or inattention at the moment, she said "no," and was immediately about to correct herself when her mother's severe countenance roused her pride and obstinacy, and she wickedly repeated her denial. here it was temper that was the snare. there was nothing to be afraid of in saying the truth, no reason why she should not. but she had a temper of such pride and obstinacy that she was aware of even enjoying being punished, as giving her an opportunity of standing out; while the least word of appeal to her affections or her conscience, if uttered before her temper was roused, would melt her in a moment. the question was repeated in many forms; and still she, with a terrified and miserable conscience, persisted that she had not played battledore that morning; whereas her mother had heard it, and knew from her companion who it was that had played. the lying child was sent to her own room, where she was in consternation enough till a mistake of management was made which spoiled everything, and destroyed the lesson to her. she was sent for to read aloud, before the family, the story of ananias and sapphira. she was sobbing so that the reading was scarcely possible, till her thoughts took a turn which speedily dried her tears, and filled her with an insolent indignation which excluded all chance of repentance. she well knew the story of ananias and sapphira; and she happened to have a great admiration of the plan of the early christians, of throwing all their goods into a common stock. she knew that the sin of ananias and his wife lay chiefly in the selfish fraud which was the occasion of their lie, and that their case was therefore no parallel for hers: and in the indignation of having it supposed that she had sinned in their way,--she who longed above everything to have been an early christian (a pretty subject truly!)--that she could be thought silly enough to suppose that they were struck dead for their fib, and not for their fraud,--in this insolent indignation she put her one sin out of sight, and felt herself an injured person. this adventure certainly did not strengthen her regard to truth. she dared not state her objection to the story in her own case: and perhaps she also disdained to do it: she remained sullen; and her mother had at last to let the matter drop. this was a case to make any parent's heart sink: but the worse the case, the more instructive to us now. here was sufficient moral sense and insight, in one direction, to hear an appeal, if any had been made. disgrace was the worst possible resort, and especially when untenable ground was taken for it. the best resort would have been a tender and solemn private conversation, in which the entanglement of passionate feelings might have been unravelled, and the seat of moral disease have been explored. when a moral disease so fearful as this appears, parents should never rest till they have found the seat of it, and convinced the perilled child of the deadly nature of its malady. in this case, the child was certainly not half-convinced, and morally worse after the treatment, while the material for conviction, repentance and reformation, was in her. the method of training must depend much on the organisation of the child in one respect; whether he is ingenuous and frank, or reserved and (i must say it)--sly. some children are certainly prone to slyness by nature; but there is no reason why, under a wise training, they should not be as honourable as the most ingenuous soul that ever was born. and they may even, when thoroughly principled, be more reliable than some open-minded persons, from being more circumspect. there is something very discouraging in seeing little creatures who ought to be all fearlessness and confidence hiding things under their pinafores, or slipping out at the back-door for a walk which they might have honestly by asking for it; or putting round-about questions when plain ones would do; or keeping all their little concerns to themselves while spending their whole lives among brothers and sisters. if one looks forward to their maturity, one recoils from the image of what they will be. but they must not grow up with these tendencies. their fault may turn to virtue, under wise and gentle treatment. their confidence must be tenderly won, and their innocent desires gratified, while every slyness is quietly shown to be as unavailing as it is disagreeable, and every movement towards ingenuousness cheerfully and lovingly encouraged. the child's imagination must be engaged on behalf of everything that is noble, heroic, and openly glorious before the eyes of men. his conscience and affections must be appealed to, not in words, but by a long course of love and trust, to return the trust he receives. of course, the parental example must be that of perfect openness and simplicity; for the sight of mystery and concealment in the house is enough to make even the ingenuous child sly, through its faculty of imitation, and its ambition to be old and wise; and much more will it hinder the expansion of a reserved and cunning child. if these things be all attended to--if he sees only what is open, free, and simple, and receives treatment which is open, free, and encouraging, while it convinces him of a sagacity greater than his own, there is every hope that he will yield himself to the kindly influences dispensed to him, and find for himself the comfort and security of ingenuousness, and turn his secretive ingenuity to purposes of intellectual exercise, where it may do much good and no harm. that ingenuity and sagacity may be well employed among the secrets of history, the complexities of the law, or the mysteries of mechanical construction or chemical analysis, which may make a man vicious and untrustworthy, if allowed to work in his moral nature, and to shroud his daily conduct. as for the training of the candid and ingenuous child, it is of course far easier and pleasanter; but it must not be supposed that no care is required to make him truthful. he must be trained to accuracy, or all his ingenuousness will not save him from saying many a thing which is not true. dr. johnson advised that if a child said he saw a thing out of one window, when in fact he saw it out of another, he should be set right. i think the dr. was right; and that a child should consider no kind of misstatement a trifle, seeing always that the parents do not. an open-hearted and ingenuous child is likely to be a great talker; and is in that way more liable to inaccuracy of statement than a reserved child. oh! let his parents guard him well, by making him early the guardian of the "unruly little member" which may, by neglect, deprive him of the security and peace which should naturally spread from his innocent heart through his open and honest life! let them help him to add perfect truth of speech to his native truth of heart, and their promising child cannot but be a happy man. it may seem wearisome to say so often over that the example of the parents is the chief influence in the training of the child; but how can i help saying it when the fact is so? is it not true that when the father of a family comes home and talks before his children, every word sinks into their minds? if he talks banter--banter so broad that his elder children laugh and understand, how should the little one on its mother's lap fail to be perplexed and misled? it knows nothing about banter, and it looks up seriously in its father's face, and believes all he says, and carries away all manner of absurd ideas. or, if told not to believe what he hears, how is he to know henceforth what to believe; and how can he put trust in his father's words? the turn for exaggeration which many people have is morally bad for the whole family. it is only the youngest perhaps who will believe that "it rains cats and dogs" because somebody says so; but a whole family may be misled by habitual exaggeration of statement. the consequence is clear. either they will take up the habit, from imitation of father or mother, or they will learn to distrust their fluent parent. but how safe is everything made by that established habit of truth in a household which acts like an instinct! if the parents are, as by a natural necessity, always accurate in what they say, or, if mistaken, thankful to be set right, and eager to rectify their mistake, the children thrive in an atmosphere of such sincerity and truth: and any one of them to whom truthfulness may be constitutionally difficult, has the best chance for the strengthening of his weakness. such an one must have sunk under the least aggravation of his infirmity by the sin of his parents: and the probability is, that the whole household would have gone down into moral ruin together; for it cannot be expected that any natural aptitude for truth in children should improve, or even continue, if discouraged by the example of the parents who ought to hail it as a blessing upon their house. of all happy households, that is the happiest, where falsehood is never thought of. all peace is broken up when once it appears that there is a liar in the house. all comfort is gone, when suspicion has once entered; when there must be reserve in talk, and reservation in belief. anxious parents, who are aware of the pains of suspicion, will place generous confidence in their children, and receive what they say freely, unless there is strong reason to distrust the truth of any one. if such an occasion should unhappily arise, they must keep the suspicion from spreading as long as possible; and avoid disgracing their poor child, while there is any chance of his cure by their confidential assistance. he should have their pity and assiduous help, as if he were suffering under some disgusting bodily disorder. if he can be cured, he will become duly grateful for the treatment. if the endeavour fails, means must of course be taken to prevent his example doing harm: and then, as i said, the family peace is broken up, because the family confidence is gone. i fear that, from some cause or another, there are but few large families where every member is altogether truthful. some who are not morally guilty, are intellectually incapable of accuracy. but where all are so organised and so trained as to be wholly reliable, in act and word, they are a light to all eyes, and a joy to all hearts. they are a public benefit; for they are a point of general reliance: and they are privately blessed, within and without. without, their life is made easy by universal trust: and within their home and their hearts, they have the security of rectitude, and the gladness of innocence. if we do but invoke wisdom, she will come, and multiply such homes in our land. chapter xvii. conscientiousness. we come now to the greatest and noblest of the moral powers of man; to that power which makes him quite a different order of being from any other that we know of, and which is the glory and crown of his existence:--his conscientiousness. the universal endowment of men with this power is the true bond of brotherhood of the human race. any race of beings who possess in common the highest quality of which any of them are capable, are brothers, however much they may differ in all other respects, and however little some of them may care about this brotherhood. for those who do care about it, how clear it is, and how very interesting to trace! how plain it is that while men in different parts and ages of the world differ widely as to what is right, they all have something in them which prompts them to do what they believe to be right! here is a little boy, permitted to try what he can get by selling five shillings' worth of oranges:--he points out to the lady who is buying his last half dozen, that two of them are spotted.--there was regulus, the roman general, who was taken prisoner by the enemy, the carthaginians. he was trusted to go to rome, to treat for an exchange of prisoners, on his promise that he would return to carthage,--which he knew was returning to death,--if the roman senate would not grant an exchange of prisoners. he persuaded the roman senate _not_ to agree to the exchange, which he believed would not be for the advantage of rome: and then he went back to carthage and to death. there is, at this day, the south sea islander,--the young wife who has been told that it is pious and right to give her first child to the gods. she has in her all a mother's feelings, all the love which women long to lavish on their first babe: but she desires that the infant should be strangled as soon as born, because she thinks it her duty. now, this poor creature is truly the sister of the other two, though her superstition is horrible, and the infanticide it leads to is a great crime. she is shockingly ignorant, and her mind is not of that high order which would perceive that there must be something wrong in going against nature in this way: but, for all that, she is conscientious; and by her conscientiousness she is truly a sister in heart to the honourable roman general, and the honest orange-seller. what she needs is knowledge: and what the whole human race wants is knowledge, to bring the workings of this great power into harmony all over the world. at present, we see men in one place feeding, and in another place burning one another,--because they think they ought. in one place, we see a man with seventy wives,--in another, a man with one wife,--and in another, a man remaining a bachelor all his life; and each one equally supposing that he is doing what is right. the evil everywhere is in the want of clear views of what is right. this is an evil which may and will be remedied, we may hope, in course of ages. there is nothing that we may not hope while the power to desire and do what is right is common to all mankind,--is given to them as an essential part of the human frame. it does not follow, of course, that this power is equal in all. all but idiots have it, more or less; but it varies, in different individuals, quite as much as any other power. no power is more dependant on care and cultivation for its vigour: but none varies more from the very beginning. some of the worst cases of want of rectitude that i have known have been in persons so placed as that everybody naturally supposed they _must_ be good, and trusted them accordingly. i have known a girl, brought up by highly principled relatives, in a house where nothing but good was seen or heard of, turn out so faulty as to compel one to see that her power of conscientiousness was the weakest she had. she had some of it. she was uneasy,--truly and not hypocritically,--if she did not read a portion of the bible every day at a certain hour. she was plain, even to prudery, in her dress: she truly honoured old age, and could humble herself before it: and she studiously, and from a sense of duty, administered to the wishes of the elder members of the family, in all matters of arrangement and manners. but that was all. she was tricky to a degree i could never estimate or comprehend. her little plots and deceptions were without number and without end. her temper was bad, and she took no pains whatever to mend it, but spent all her exertions in making people as miserable as possible by her vindictiveness. in love matters, she reached a point of malice beyond belief, torturing people's feelings, and getting them into scrapes, with a gratification to her own bad mind which could not be concealed under her demure solemnity of manner. enough of her! i will only observe that, though she was brought up by good people, it does not follow that she was judiciously managed. the result shows that she was not. a perfectly wise guardian would have seen that her faculty of conscientiousness wanted strengthening, and would have found safe and innocent employment for those powers of secretiveness and defiance, and that inordinate love of approbation, which, as it was, issued in mischief-making.--the opposite case to hers is that which touches one with a deeper pity than almost any spectacle which can be seen on this earth: that of the child whose strong power of conscientiousness is directed to wickedness, before it has ability to help itself. think of the little child born in a cellar, among thieves! it is born full of human powers; and among these, it has a conscience, and perhaps a particularly strong one. suppose it is brought up to believe that its duty is to provide money for its parents by stealing. suppose that, by five years old, it entirely believes that the most wrong thing it can do is to come home at dark without having stolen at least three pocket-handkerchiefs! such cases have been known; and not a few of them.--and it is only an exaggerated instance of what we very commonly see in history and the world. the chief inquisitor in spain or italy really believed that he was doing his duty in burning the bodies of heretics for the good of their souls. our ancestors thought they were acting benevolently in putting badge dresses on charity children. the pharisees of old were sincere in their belief that it was wrong to heal a sick man on the sabbath. and i have no doubt that in a future age it will appear that we ourselves are ignorant and mistaken about some points of our conduct in which we now sincerely believe that we are doing what we ought. in every household, then, the first consideration is to cherish the faculty of conscientiousness; and the next is, to direct it wisely. when i speak of cherishing the faculty, i do not mean that it is always to be stimulated, whether it be naturally strong or weak. there are cases, and they are not few, where the power is stronger than perhaps any other. in such cases, no stimulating is required, but only guidance and enlightenment. there are few sadder spectacles than that of a suffering being whose conscience has become so tender as to be superstitious; who lives a life of fear--of incessant fear of doing wrong. it is a healthy conscience that we want to produce; a conscience which shall act naturally, vigorously, and incessantly, like an instinct; so as to leave all the other faculties to act freely, without continual conflict and question whether their action be right or wrong. a child who is perpetually driven to examine all he thinks and does will become full of himself, prone to discontent with himself, and to servile dependence on the opinion of those whom he thinks wiser than himself. what is such a child to do when he comes out into the world, and must guide himself? at best, he will go trembling through life, without courage or self-respect: and something worse is to be apprehended. it is to be apprehended that if he makes any slip--and such an one will be sure to think that he does make slips--he will be unable to bear the pain and uncertainty, and will grow reckless. a clergyman, of wide and deep experience, who was the depository of much confidence, told me once (and i have never forgotten it), that some of the worst cases of desperate vice he had ever known were those of young men tenderly and piously reared, who came out from home anxious about the moral dangers of the world and the fears of their parents, and who, having fallen into the slightest fault, and being utterly wretched in consequence, lost all courage and hope, and drowned their misery in indulgence of the worst part of themselves. he felt this so strongly that he solemnly conjured me to use any influence i might ever have over parents in encouraging them to trust their children with their innocence, and to have faith in the best faculties of human nature. this entreaty still rings in my ears, and leads me so to use any influence i may now have over parents. is it not true that the strongest delight the human being ever has is in well-doing? is it not true that this pleasure, like the pleasures of the eye and ear, the pleasures of benevolence, the pleasures of the understanding and the imagination, will seek its own continuance and gratification, if it have fair play? is it not true that pain of conscience is the worst of human sufferings? and that this pain will be naturally avoided, like every other pain, if only the faculty have fair play? the worst of it is, the faculty seldom has fair play. the fatal notion that human beings are more prone to evil than inclined to good, and the fatal practice of creating factitious sins, are dreadfully in the way of natural health of conscience. teach a child that his nature is evil, and you will make it evil. teach him to fear and despise himself, and you will make him timid and suspicious. impose upon him a number of factitious considerations of duty, and you will perplex his moral sense, and make him tired of a self-government which has no certainty and no satisfaction in it. it is a far safer and higher way to trust to his natural moral sense, and cultivate his moral taste: to let him grow morally strong by leaving him morally free, and to make him, by sympathy and example, in love with whatever things are pure, honest, and lovely. what the parent has to do with is the moral habits of the child, and not to meddle with his faculties. give them fair scope to grow, and they will flourish: and, let it be remembered, man has no faculties which are, in themselves and altogether, evil. his faculties are all good, if they are well harmonised. instead of talking to him, or leading him to talk in his infancy of his own feelings as something that he has to take charge of, fix his mind on the things from which his feelings will of themselves arise. by all means, lead him to be considerate: but not about his own state, but rather about the objects which cause that state. if he sees at home integrity entering into every act and thought, and trust and love naturally ensuing, he will enjoy integrity and live in it, as the native of a southern climate enjoys sunshine and lives in it. if, as must happen, failure of integrity comes under his notice in one direction or another, he will see the genuine disgust and pain which those about him feel at the spectacle, and dishonesty will be disgusting and painful to him. and so on, through all good and bad qualities of men. and this will keep him upright and pure far more certainly than any warnings from you that he will be dishonest and impure, unless he is constantly watching his feelings, and striving against the danger. in the beginning of his course, he must be aided,--in the early days when the action of all his faculties is weak and uncertain: and this aid cannot be given too early; for we are not aware of any age at which a child has not some sense of moral right and wrong. mrs. wesley taught her infants in arms to "cry softly." without admiring the discipline, we may profit by the hint as to the moral capability of the child. when no older than this, he may have satisfaction, without knowing why, from submitting quietly to be washed, and to go to bed. when he becomes capable of employing himself purposely, he may have satisfaction in doing his business before he goes to his play, and a sense of uneasiness in omitting the duty. i knew a little boy in petticoats who had no particular taste for the alphabet, but began to learn it as a matter of course, without any pretence of relish. one day his lesson was, for some reason, rather short. his conscience was not satisfied. when his elder brother was dismissed, willie brought his letters again, but found he was not wanted, and might play. the little fellow sighed; and then a bright thought struck him. (i think i see him now, in his white frock, with his large thoughtful eyes lighting up!) he said joyfully--"willie say his lesson to hisself." he carried his little stool into a corner, put his book on his knees, and finished by honestly covering up the large letters with both hands, and saying aloud two or three new ones. then he went to his play, all the merrier for the discharge of his conscience. there is no reason why it should not be thus with all the duties of a child. the great point is that he should see that the peace and joy of the household depend on ease of conscience. his father takes no pleasure till his work is done, and tells the truth to his hurt. his mother seeks to be just to a slandered neighbour, or leaves her rest by the fireside to aid a sick one. granny's eyes sparkle, or a flush comes over her withered cheek, when she tells the children what good men have endured rather than pretend what they did not believe, or betray a trust. the maid has taken twopence too much in change, and is uneasy till she has returned it, or she refuses to promise something, lest she should be unable to keep her word. his elder sister refuses something good at a neighbour's, because her mother would think it unwholesome while she is not quite well. his elder brother asks him to throw just a little cold water upon him in the mornings, because he is so terribly sleepy that he cannot get up without. and he sees what a welcome is given to a very poor acquaintance, and he feels his own heart beat with reverence for this very poor neighbour, because his father happens to know that the man refused five pounds for his vote at the last election. if the child is surrounded by a moral atmosphere like this, he will derive a strong moral life from it, and a satisfaction to his highest moral faculties which it is scarcely possible that he should forego for the pleasures of sin. the indolent child will, in such a home, lose all idea of pleasure in being idle, and soon find no pleasure till his work is done. the slovenly child will become uneasy under a dirty skin, and the thoughtless one in being behind his time. common integrity we may suppose to be a matter of course in a household like this; and, as every virtuous faculty naturally advances "from strength to strength," we may hope that the abode will be blessed, as the children grow up, with a very uncommon integrity. though the parent will avoid making the child unnecessarily conscious of its own conscience, she (for this is chiefly the mother's business) will remember that her child has his difficulties and perplexities about the working of this, as of all his other imperfectly trained powers; and she will lay herself open to his confidence. sometimes he is not clear what he ought to do: sometimes he feels himself too weak to do it: sometimes he is miserable because he has done wrong: and then again, he and some one else may differ as to whether he has done wrong or right. and again, he may have seen something in other people's conduct which shocks, or puzzles, or delights him. oh! let the mother throw open her heart to confidences like these! let her be sure that the moments of such confidence are golden moments, for which a mother may be more thankful than for anything else she can ever receive from her child. let it be her care that every child has opportunity to speak freely and privately to her of such things. some mothers make it a practice to go themselves to fetch the candle when the children are in bed; and then, if wanted, they stay a few minutes, and hear any confessions, or difficulties, and receive any disclosures, of which the little mind may wish to disburden itself before the hour of sleep. whether then or at another time, it is well worth pondering what a few minutes of serious consultation may do in enlightening and rousing or calming the conscience,--in rectifying and cherishing the moral life. it may be owing to such moments as these that humiliation is raised into humility, apathy into moral enterprise, pride into awe, and scornful blame into christian pity. happy is the mother who can use such moments as she ought! there remains, after all, the dread and wonder what such children are to think and do when they must come to know what is the average conscientiousness of the world. this is a subject of fear and pain to most good parents. but they must consider that their children will not see the world as they do all at once:--not till they have learned, like their parents, to allow for, and account for, what happens in the world. the innocent and the upright put a good construction on as much as possible of what they see; and are often more right in this than their clearer-sighted elders who know more of the tendencies of things. the shock will not come all at once. they hear now of broken contracts, dishonest bargains, venal elections, mercenary marriages, and, perhaps, profligate seductions. they know that there are drunkards, and cheats, and hypocrites, and cruel brutes, in society: and these things hardly affect them, are hardly received by them, because they are surrounded by honest people, and cannot feel what is beyond. and when they must become more truly aware of these things, they will still trust in and admire some whom they look up to, with more or less reason. the knowledge of iniquity will come to them gradually, and all the more safely the less sympathy they have with it. if it be the pain, and not the danger, of this knowledge that the parents dread, they must make up their minds to it for their children. surely they do not expect them to go through life without pain: and a bitter suffering it will be to them to see what wretchedness is in the world through the vices and ignorance of men; through their want of conscientiousness, or their errors of conscience. such pain must be met and endured; and who is likely to meet it so bravely, and endure it so hopefully, as those who are fully aware that every man's heaven or hell is within him--giving a hope that heaven will expand as wisdom grows--and who carry within themselves that peace which the world "can neither give nor take away?" chapter xviii. intellectual training.--its requisites. we are all accustomed to speak of the intellect and moral powers of man as if they were so distinct from one another that we can deal with each set of powers without touching the other. it is true that there is a division between the intellectual and moral powers of man, as there is between one moral power and another. it is true that we can think of them separately, and treat them separately: but it does not follow that they will work separately. no part of the brain will act alone, no part begins its own action. it is always put in action by another part previously at work, and it excites in its turn some other portion. while we sleep, that part of the brain is at work on which depend those animal functions which are always going on: and, as we know by our dreams, other portions work with this, giving us ideas and feelings during sleep--perhaps as many as by day, if we could only recollect them. the animal portions of the brain set the intellectual and moral organs to work, and these act upon each other, so that there is no separating their action,--no possibility of employing one faculty at a time without help from any other. as memory cannot act till attention has been awakened,--in other words, as people cannot remember what they have never observed and received, so the timid cannot understand, unless it is in a docile and calm state; nor meditate well without the exercise of candour and truthfulness; nor imagine nobly without the help of veneration and hope. if we take any great intellectual work and examine it, we shall see what a variety of faculties, moral as well as intellectual, have gone to the making of it. take "paradise lost," a work so glorious for the loftiness of its imagination, and the extent of its learning, and the beauty of its illustrations, and the harmony of its versification! these are its intellectual beauties: but look what moral beauties are inseparable from these. look at the veneration,--not only towards god, but towards all holiness, and power, and beauty! look at the purity, the love, the hopefulness, the strain of high honour throughout! and this intellectual and moral beauty are so blended, that we see how impossible it would be for the one to exist without the other. it is just so in the human character--the intellect of a human being cannot be of a high order, (though some particular faculties may be very strong) if the moral nature is low and feeble: and the moral state cannot be a lofty one where the intellect is torpid. it does not follow from this that to be very good a child must be exceedingly clever and "highly educated," as we call it. there are plenty of highly-educated people who are not morally good; and there are many honest and amiable and industrious people who cannot read and write. the thing is, we misuse the word "education." book-learning is compatible with great poverty of intellect; and there may be a very fine understanding, great power of attention and observation, and possibly, though rarely, of reflection, in a person who has never learned to read,--if the moral goodness of that person has put his mind into a calm and teachable and happy state, and his powers of thought have been stimulated by active affections; if, as we say, his heart has quickened his head. these are truths very important to know; and they ought to be consolatory to parents who are grieved and alarmed because they cannot send their children to school,--supposing that their intellectual part must suffer and go to waste for want of school training and instruction from books. i will say simply and openly what i think about this. i think that no children, in any rank of life, can acquire so much book-knowledge at home as at a good school, or have their intellectual faculties so well roused and trained. i have never seen an instance of such high attainment in languages, mathematics, history, or philosophy in young people taught at home,--even by the best masters,--as in those who have been in a good school. without going into the reasons of this, which would lend us out of our way here, i would fully admit the fact. there are two ways of taking it. first, it cannot be helped. a much larger number of people are unable to send their children to school than can do so. the queen cannot send her children to school: and the children of the peerage are under great disadvantage. the girls cannot, or do not, go from home; and the boys go only to one or another of a very small choice of public schools, where they must run tremendous risks to both morals and intellect. then there are multitudes of families, in town and country, among rich and poor, where the children must be taught at home. the number is much larger of the children who do not go to school than of those who do. if we consider, again, how large a proportion of schools, taking them from the highest to the lowest, are so bad that children learn little in them, it is clear that the home-trained intellects are out of all proportion more numerous than the school-trained. the other way of looking at the matter is in order to inquire what school advantages may be brought home--what there is in the school that children may have the benefit of at home. the fundamental difference between school and home is clear enough. at school, everything is done by rule; by a law which was made without a view to any particular child, and which governs all alike: whereas, at home, the government is not one of law, working on from year to year without change, but of love, or, at least, of the mind of the parents, varying with circumstances, and with the ages and dispositions of the children. there is no occasion to point out here how great are the moral advantages of a good home in comparison with the best of schools. our business now is with the intellectual training. can the advantages of school law be brought into the home? i think they may, to a certain extent: and i think it of great importance that they should. law will not do all at home that it does at school. it is known to be new made, for the sake of the parties under it; and it cannot possibly work so undeviatingly in a family as in a school; and the children of a family, no two of whom are of the same age, cannot have their faculties so stimulated to achieve irksome labour as in a large class of comrades of the same age and standing. but still, rule and regularity will do much: and when we consider the amount of drudgery that children have to get through in acquiring the elements of knowledge, we shall feel it to be only humane and fair to give them any aid that can be afforded through the plans of the household. those kinds and parts of knowledge which interest the reasoning faculties and the imagination are not in question just now. they come by and by, and can better take care of themselves, or are more sure to be taken care of by others, than the drudgery which is the first stage in all learning. the drudgery comes first; and it is wise and kind to let it come soon enough. the quickness of eye, and tenacity and readiness of memory, which belong to infancy should be made use of while at their brightest, for gaining such knowledge as is to be had by the mere eye, ear, and memory. how easily can the most ordinary child learn a hymn or other piece of poetry by heart;--sometimes before it can speak plain, and very often indeed before it can understand the meaning! what a pity that this readiness should not be used,--that the child, for instance, should not learn to count, and to read, and to say the multiplication table, while it can learn these things with the least trouble! we must remember that while we see the child to be about a great and heavy work, the child himself does not know this, and cannot be oppressed by the thought. all he knows about is the little bit he learns every day. and that little bit is easy to him, if the support of law be given him. it is here that law must come in to help him. he should, if possible, be saved all uncertainty, all conflict in his little mind, as to his daily business. if there is a want of certainty and punctuality about his lessons, there will be room for the thought of something which, for the moment, he would like better; and again, his young faculties will become confused and irregular in their working from uncertainty of seasons and of plans. if there can be a particular place, and a particular time for him, every day but sundays, and he is never put off, his faculties will come to their work with a freshness and steadiness which nothing but habit will secure. a law of work which leaves him no choice, but sets all his faculties free for his business, saves him half the labour of it; as it does in after life to those who are so blessed as to be destined to necessary, and not voluntary labour. in houses where there cannot be a room set apart for the lessons, perhaps there may be a corner. if there cannot be any place, perhaps there may be a time: and the time should be that which can best be secured from interruption. where the father is so fond of his children, and so capable of self-denial for their sakes as to devote an hour or two of his evenings to the instruction of his children, he may rely upon it that he is heaping up blessings for himself with every minute of those hours. his presence, the presence of the worker of the household, is equal to school and home influence together. the scantiness of his leisure makes the law; and his devotedness in using it thus makes the inestimable home influence. under his teaching, if it be regular and intelligent, head and heart will come on together, to his encouragement now, and his great future satisfaction. when i come to speak of habits, by and by, it will be seen that this introduction of law at home is to relate only to affairs of habit, and intellectual attainment. the misfortune of school is that the affections and feelings must come under the control of law, instead of the guidance of domestic love. it would be a wanton mischief indeed to spoil the freedom of home by stretching rule and law there beyond their proper province. there are houses, many houses, and not always very poor ones, where the parents think they cannot provide for the intellectual improvement of their children, and mourn daily over the thought. i wish such parents could be induced to consider well what intellectual improvement is, and then they would see how much they may do for their children's minds without book, pen, or paper. it goes against me to suppose children brought up without knowledge of reading and writing; and i trust this is not likely to be the fate of any children of the parents who read this. but it is as well to suppose the extreme case, in order to see whether even people who cannot read and write must remain ignorant and debarred from the privileges of mind. in america i saw many families of settlers, where the children were strangely circumstanced. there was always plenty to eat and drink; the barns were full of produce, and there were horses in the meadow; and every child would have hereafter a goodly portion of land: but there were no servants, and there could be no "education," because the mother and children had to do all the work of the house. in one of these homes the day was spent thus.--the father (a man of great property) went out upon his land, before daylight, taking with him his little sons of six and seven years old, who earned their breakfasts by leading the horses down to water, and turning out the cows, and sweeping the stable: and, when the milking was done (by a man on the farm, i think), they brought up the milk. meantime, their mother, an educated english lady, took up the younger children, and swept the kitchen, lighted the fire, and cooked the beef-steak for her husband's breakfast, and boiled the eggs which the little ones brought in from the paddock. soon after seven, the farmer and boys were gone again: and then the mother set down in the middle of the kitchen floor a large bowl of hot water and the breakfast things: and the little girl of _four_, and her sister of _two_, set to work. the elder washed the cups and dishes, and the younger wiped them, as carefully and delicately as if she had been ten years older. she never broke anything, or failed to make all bright and dry. then they went to make their own little beds: they could just manage that, but not the larger ones. meantime, their mother was baking, or washing, or brewing, or making soap,--boiling it in a cauldron over a fire in the wood. there were no grocers' shops within scores of miles. in the season, the family had to make sugar in the forest from their maple trees; and wine from the fruit they grew: and there were the apples, in immense quantities, to be split and cored, and hung up in strings for winter use. every morning in the week was occupied with one or another of these employments; and in the midst of them, dinner had to be cooked, and ready by noon: another beef-steak, with apple-sauce or onions, and hot "corn" bread (made of indian meal), and a squash pie, or something of the sort. there was enough to do, all the afternoon, in finishing off the morning's work: and there must be another steak for tea or supper.--the children had been helping all day: and now their parents wished to devote this time,--after six p.m.--to their benefit. it is true, the mother had now to sew; this being her only time for making and mending: but she got out the slates and lesson-books, and put one little girl and boy before her, while their father took the other two, and set them a sum and a copy on the slate. but alas! by this time, no one of the party could keep awake. they did try. the parents were so extremely anxious for their children that they did strive: but nature was overpowered. after a few struggles, the children were sent to bed; and in the very midst of a sentence, the mother's head would sink over her work, and the father's down upon the table, in irresistible sleep. both had been very fond of chess, in former days: and the husband bade his wife put away her work, and try a game of chess. but down went the board, and off slid the men, in the middle of a game! now,--what could be done for the children's education here? in time, there was hope that roads and markets would be opened where the produce of the farm might be sold, and money obtained to send the children to schools, some hundreds of miles off: or, at least, that neighbours enough might settle round about to enable the township to invite a school-master. but what could be done meantime? so much might be, and was, done as would astonish people who think that intellectual education means school learning. i do not at all wish to extenuate the misfortune of these children in being doomed to write a bad hand, if any; to be slow at accounts; to have probably no taste for reading; and no knowledge, except by hearsay, of the treasures of literature. but i do say that they were not likely to grow up ignorant and stupid. they knew every tree in the forest, and every bird, and every weed. they knew the habits of all domestic animals. they could tell at a glance how many scores of pigeons there were in a flock, when clouds of these birds came sailing towards the wood. they did not want to measure distances, for they knew them by the eye. they could give their minds earnestly to what they were about; and ponder, and plan, and imagine, and contrive. their faculties were all awake. and they obtained snatches of stories from father and mother, about the heroes of old times, and the history of england and america. they worshipped god, and loved christ, and were familiar with the bible. now, there are some things here that very highly educated people among us might be glad to be equal to: and the very busiest father, the hardest-driven mother in england may be able, in the course of daily business, to rouse and employ the faculties of their children,--their attention, understanding, reflection, memory and imagination,--so as to make their intellects worth more than those of many children who are successful at school. their chance is doubled if books are opened to them: but if not, there is nothing to despair about. i was much struck by a day's intellectual education of a little boy of seven who was thrown out of his usual course of study and play. the family were in the country,--in a house which they had to themselves for a month, in beautiful scenery, where they expected to be so continually out of doors that the children's toys were left at home. some days of unintermitting, drenching rain came; and on one of these days, the little fellow looked round him, after breakfast, and said, "papa, i don't exactly see what i can do." he would have been thankful to say his lessons: but papa was absolutely obliged to write the whole day; and mama was up-stairs nursing his little sister, who had met with an accident. his papa knew well how to make him happy. he set him to find out the area of the house, and of every room in it. he lent him a three-foot rule, showed him how he might find the thickness of the walls, and gave him a slate and pencil. this was enough. all day, he troubled nobody, but went quietly about, measuring and calculating, and writing down;--from morning till dinner,--from dinner till supper: and by that time he had done. when they could go out to measure the outside, they found him right to an inch: and the same with every room in the house.--this boy was no genius. he was an earnest, well-trained boy: and who does not see that if he and his parents had lived in an american forest, or in the severest poverty at home, he would have been, in the best sense, an educated boy! he would not have understood several languages, as he does now: but his faculties would have been busy and cultivated, if he had never in his life seen any book but the bible.--anxious parents may take comfort from the thought that nothing ever exists or occurs which may not be made matter of instruction to the mind of man. the mind and the material being furnished to the parents' hands, it is their business to bring them together, whether books be among the material or not. chapter xix. intellectual training. order of development. the perceptive faculties. in beginning a child's intellectual education, the parent must constantly remember to carry on his care of the frame, spoken of in a former chapter. the most irritable and tender part of a child's frame is its brain; and on the welfare of its brain every thing else depends. it should not be forgotten that the little creature was born with a soft head; and that it takes years for the contents of that skull to become completely guarded by the external bones, and sufficiently grown and strengthened to bear much stress. nature points out what the infant's brain requires, and what it can bear; and if the parents are able to discern and follow the leadings of nature, all will be well. the most certain thing is that there is no safety in any other course. in their anxiety to bring up any lagging faculty,--to cherish any weak power,--parents are apt to suppose those faculties weak, for whose development they are looking too soon. it grieves me to see conscientious parents, who govern their own lives by reasoning, stimulating a young child to reason long before the proper time. the reflective and reasoning faculties are among the last that should naturally come into use; and the only safe way is to watch for their first activity, and then let it have scope. one of the finest children i ever saw,--a stout handsome boy, with a full set of vigorous faculties, was, at five years old, in danger of being spoiled in a strange sort of way. the process was stopped in time to save his intellect and his morals; but not before it had strewn his youthful life with difficulties from which he need never have suffered. this boy heard a great deal of reasoning always going on; and he seldom or never saw any children, except in parties, or in the street. his natural imitation of the talk of grown up people was encouraged; and from the time he could speak, he saw in the whole world,--in all the objects that met his senses,--only things to reason about. he gathered flowers, not so much because he liked them as because they might be discoursed about. he could not shut the door, or put on his pinafore when bid, till the matter was argued, and the desired act proved to be reasonable. the check was, as i have said, given in time: but he had much to do to bring up his perceptive faculties and his mechanical habits to the point required in even a decent education. he had infinite trouble in learning to spell, and in mastering all the elements of knowledge which are acquired by the memory: and his writing a good hand, and being ready at figures, or apt at learning a modern language by the ear, was hopeless. he would doubtless have done all these well, if his faculties had been exercised in their proper order;--that is, in the order which nature indicates,--and vindicates. and now,--what is that order? the perceptive faculties come first, into activity. do we not all remember that colours gave us more intense pleasure in our early childhood than they have ever done since? most of us can remember back to the time when we were four years old,--or three; and some even two. what is it that we remember? with one, it is a piece of gay silk, or printed cotton or china; or a bed of crocuses;--or we remember the feel of a piece of velvet or fur, or something rough;--or the particular shape of some leaf;--or the amazing weight of a globule of quicksilver;--or the immense distance from one end of the room to the other. i, for one, remember several things that happened when i was between two and three years old: and most of these were sensations, exciting passions. i doubt whether i ever felt keener delight than in passing my fingers round a flat button, covered with black velvet, on the top of a sister's bonnet. i remember lighting upon the sensation, if one may say so; and the intense desire afterwards to be feeling the button. and just at that time i was sent into the country for my health; and i can now tell things about the first day in the cottage which no one can ever have told to me. i tried to walk round a tree (an elm, i believe), clasping the tree with both arms: and nothing that has happened to-day is more vivid to me than the feel of the rough bark to the palms of my hands, and the entanglement of the grass to my feet. and then at night there was the fearful wonder at the feel of the coarse calico sheets, and at the creaking of the turn-up bedstead when i moved.--after i came home, when i was two years and nine months old, i saw, one day, the door of the spare bed-room ajar, and i pushed it open and went in. i was walking about the house because i had a pair of new shoes on, and i liked to hear their pit-pat, and to make sure that i could walk in them, though they were slippery. the floor of the spareroom was smooth and somewhat polished; and it was--(at least to my eyes--) a large room. i was half-frightened when i saw that the blinds were down. but there was a fire; and standing by the fire, at the further end, was an old woman--(or to me she looked old)--with a muslin handkerchief crossed over her gown: and in her arms she held a bundle of flannel. the curtains of the bed were drawn;--the fawn-coloured moreen curtains with a black velvet edge, which i sometimes stroked for a treat. the old woman beckoned to me; and i wished to go; but i thought i could never walk all that way on the polished floor without a tumble. i remember how wide i stretched out my arms, and how far apart i set my feet, and how i got to the old woman at last. with her foot she pushed forwards a tiny chair, used as a footstool, embroidered over with sprawling green leaves; and there i sat down: and the old woman laid the bundle of flannel across my lap. with one hand she held it there safe, and with the other she uncovered the little red face of a baby. though the sight set every pulse in my body beating, i do not remember feeling any fear,--though i was always afraid of everything. it was a passionate feeling of wonder, and a sort of tender delight;--delight at being noticed and having it on my lap, perhaps, as much as at the thing itself. how it ended, i do not know. i only remember further seeing with amazement, that somebody was in the bed,--that there was a nightcap on the pillow,--though it was day-time. these details may seem trifling: but, if we want to know what faculties are vigorous in infancy, it is as well to learn, in any way we can, what children feel and think at the earliest age we can arrive at. one other instance of vivid perception stands out among many in my childhood so remarkably as to be perhaps instructive: and the more so because i was not endowed with quick senses, or strong perceptive powers, but, on the contrary, discouraged my teachers by dullness and inattention, and a constant tendency to reverie. i was always considered a remarkably unobservant child. i slept with the nursemaid in a room at the top of the house which looked eastwards: and the baby brother mentioned above, now just able to walk, slept in a crib by the bedside. one summer morning i happened to wake before sunrise, and thought it very strange to see the maid asleep; the next thing i remember was walking over the boards with bare feet, and seeing some little pink toes peeping out through the rails of the crib. i gently pinched them, and somehow managed to keep the child quiet when he reared himself up from his pillow; he must have caught some of the spirit of the prank, for he made no noise. i helped him to scramble down from the crib, and led him to the window, and helped him to scramble upon a chair: and then i got up beside him; and, by using all my strength, i opened the window. how chill the air was! and how hard and sharp the window-sill felt to my arms! we were so high above the street that i dared not look down; but oh! what a sight we saw by looking abroad over the tops of the houses to the rising ground beyond! the sun must have been coming up, for the night-clouds were of the richest purple, turning to crimson; and in one part there seemed to be a solid edge of gold. i have seen the morning and evening skies of all the four quarters of the world, but this is, in my memory, the most gorgeous of all, though it could not in fact have been so. i whispered all i knew about god making the sun come up every morning; and i certainly supposed the child to sympathise with me in the thrilling awe of the moment: but it could not have been so. i have some remembrance of the horrible difficulty of getting the window down again, and of hoisting up my companion into his crib: and i can distinctly recal the feelings of mingled contempt and fear with which i looked upon the maid, who had slept through all this; and how cold my feet were when i crept into bed again. now, if this is what children are, it seems plain that the faculties by which they perceive objects so vividly should be simply trained to a good use. the parent has little more to do than to see that nature is not hindered in her working: to see that the faculties are awake, and that a sufficient variety is offered for them to employ themselves upon. nothing like what is commonly called teaching is required here, or can do anything but harm at present. if the mother is at work, and the children are running in and out of the garden, it is only saying to the little toddler, "now bring me a blue flower;--now bring me a yellow flower;--now bring me a green leaf." at another time, she will ask for a round stone; or a thick stick; or a thin stick. and sometimes she will blow a feather, and let it fall again: or she will blow a dandelion-head all to pieces, and quite away. if she is wise, she will let the child alone, to try its own little experiments, and learn for itself what is hard and what is soft; what is heavy and light; hot and cold; and what it can do with its little limbs and quick senses. taking care, of course, that it does not injure itself, and that it has objects within reach in sufficient variety, she cannot do better, at this season of its life, than let it be busy in its own way. i saw a little fellow, one day, intently occupied for a whole breakfast-time, and some time afterwards, in trying to put the key of the house-door into the key-hole of the tea-caddy. when he gave the matter up, and not before, his mother helped him to see why he could not do it. if she had taken the door-key from him at first, he would have missed a valuable lesson. at this period of existence, the children of rich and poor have, or may have, about equal advantages, under the care of sensible parents. they can be busy about anything. there is nothing that cannot be made a plaything of, and a certain means of knowledge, if the faculties be awake. if the child be dull, it must, of course, be tempted to play. if the faculties be in their natural state of liveliness, the mother has only to be aware that the little creature must be busy while it is awake, and to see that it has variety enough of things (the simpler the better) to handle, and look at, and listen to, and experiment upon. the perceptive faculties have a relation to other objects than those which are presented to the five senses. it is very well for children to be picking up from day to day knowledge about colours and forms, and the hardness and weight of substances, and the habits of animals, and the growth of plants;--the great story, in short, of what passes before their eyes, and appeals to their ears, and impresses them through the touch: but there is another range of knowledge appropriate to the perceptive faculties. there are many facts that can be perceived through another medium than the eye, the ear, or the hand. facts of number and quantity, for instance, are perceived (after a time, if not at first) without illustration by objects of sight or sound: and it is right, and kind to the child, to help him to a perception of these facts early, while the perceiving faculties are in their first vigour. there is no hardship in this, if the thing is done in moderation: and in many cases, this exertion of the perceptive faculties is attended with a keen satisfaction. i have known an idiot child, perfectly infantine in his general ways, amuse himself half the day long with employing his perceptions of number and quantity. he, poor child, was incapable of being taught anything as a lesson: he did not understand speech,--beyond a very few words: but the exercise of such faculties as he had--(and the strongest he had were those of order, and perception of number, quantity and symmetry) was the happiness of his short and imperfect life: and the exercise of the same faculties,--moderate and natural exercise,--may make part of the happiness of every child's life. it is very well to use the faculty of eye and ear as an introduction to the use of the inner perceptions,--so to speak. for instance, it is well to teach a child the multiplication-table, by the ear as well as the understanding:--to teach it by rote, (as one teaches a tune without words), as an avenue to the mystery of numbers: but the pleasure to the pupil is in perceiving the relations of numbers. in the same manner, the eye may be used for the same purpose; as when the mother teaches by pins on the table, or by peas, or peppercorns, that two and two make four; and that three fours, or two sixes, or four threes, all make twelve: but the pleasure to the pupil is in perceiving the relations of these numbers without pins or peppercorns,--in the head; and in going on till he has mastered all the numbers in the multiplication-table,--perceiving them in the depths of his mind, without light or sound,--without images or words. children who are capable of mental arithmetic delight in it, before their minds are tired:--and the moment the mind is tired, the exercise should stop. about quantity, the same methods may be used. at first, there must be measurement, to prove to the child the relation of quantities: but to what a point of precision the mind may arrive, after having once perceived the truth of quantities and spaces, is seen in the fact that astronomers can infallibly predict eclipses centuries before they happen. another department of what is called exact knowledge comprehends the relations of time. this is another case in which idiots have proved to us that there is an inner perception of time,--a faculty which works pleasurably when once set to work. one idiot who had lived near a striking clock, and was afterwards removed from all clocks, and did not know a watch by sight, went on to the end of his life imitating the striking of the hour regularly, with as much precision as the sun marks it upon the dial. another who never had sense enough to know of the existence of clock or watch, could never be deceived about the precise time of day. under all changes of place and households with their habits, he did and looked for the same things at exactly the same moment of every day. and by this faculty it is that even little children learn the clock;--a process which, from its very nature, could never be learned by rote. in these matters, again, the children of the poor can be as well trained as those of the rich. every where, and under all circumstances, people can measure and compute. the boy must do it if he is to practise any art or trade whatever; and in every household, there is, or ought to be, enough of economy,--of measuring, and cutting out, and counting and calculating, for the girl to exercise her faculty of perception of number and quantity. the understanding of money is no mean exercise, in itself. in one rank, we see the able builder, carpenter, and mechanician, practised in these departments of perception: and in another we see the astronomer detecting and marking out the courses of the stars, and understanding the mighty mechanism of the heavens, as if he had himself trodden all the pathways of the sky. it is wise and kind to use the early vigour of these faculties--the powers which perceive facts,--up to the limit of satisfaction, stopping short always of fatigue. this is the season too, and these are the faculties, to be employed in learning by rote. learning by rote is nothing of a drudgery now compared with what it is afterwards;--for the ear is quick, the eye is free and at liberty; the memory is retentive, and the understanding is not yet pressing for its gratification. at this season too, as has been before observed, the child does not look forward, nor comprehend what it is attempting. the present hour, with its little portion of occupation, is all that it sees: and it accomplishes vast things, bit by bit, which it would never attempt if it knew the sum of the matter. no one would learn to speak if he knew all that speech comprehends: yet every child learns to speak, easily and naturally. thus it is with every art, every science, every department of action and knowledge. the beginning,--the drudgery--should be got over at the time when it costs least fatigue. and this is why we teach children early to read;--so early that, but for this consideration, it is of no consequence whether they can read or not. we do it while the eye is quick to notice the form of the letters, and while the ear is apt to catch their sound, and before the higher faculties come in with any disturbing considerations. my own opinion is that, on account of the feebleness and uncertainty of the hand, writing had better be taught later than it usually is;--that is, when the child shows an inclination to draw or scribble,--to describe any forms on slate or paper, or on walls or sand. but whatever depends mainly on eye, ear, and memory, should be taught early, when the learning causes the most gratification and the least pain. the help that this arrangement gives to, and receives from, the formation of habits of regularity and industry will come under notice when i speak hereafter of the care of the habits. according to what has been said, a child's first intellectual education lies in varied amusement, without express teaching. this is while its brain is infantine and tender, and its nature restless and altogether sensitive. when it shows itself quieter and more thoughtful, it may be expressly taught, a little at a time, with cheerful steadiness and tender encouragement. what it should learn, a healthy well-trained child will, for the most part, indicate for itself, by its inquiries, and its pleasure in learning. what the parent has to impose upon it is that which, being artificial, it cannot indicate for itself,--the art of reading, and the names and forms of numbers, and such arrangements of language as are found in simple poetry, or other useful forms which may be committed to memory. it is impossible to lay down any rule as to the age to be comprehended in this period; and it might be dangerous to do so;--so various are the capacities and temperaments of children; but, speaking quite indeterminately, i may say that i have had in view the period, for ordinary children, from the opening of the faculties to about seven years old. chapter xx. intellectual training.--the conceptive faculties. up to this point, and for some way beyond it, children are better off at home than at school; and no parent should be induced to think otherwise by what is seen to be achieved at infant schools. at some infant schools, little children who can scarcely speak, are found able to say and do many wonderful things which might make inexperienced mothers fear that their little ones at home had not been done justice to, and must be sadly backward in their education: but if the anxious mother will consider a little, and keep on the watch, she will perceive that her children are better at home. these infant schools were set on foot with the most benevolent of intentions; and they are really a vast benefit to a large class in society: but it does not follow that they afford the best training for infants. in their very nature they cannot do so. when we stand in the midst of such an assemblage, we feel what a blessing it is that little creatures who would be locked up in garrets all day while the parents were at work, liable to falls or fire, or who would be tumbling about in the streets or roads, dirty, quarrelsome, and exposed to bad company, should be collected here under safe guardianship, and taught, and kept clean, and amused with harmless play: but we cannot help seeing, at the same time, that there is something unnatural in the method; and whatever is unnatural is always radically bad. nature makes households, family groups where no two children are of the same age, and where, with the utmost activity, there is a certain degree of quietness, retirement, and repose; whereas, in the infant school there is a crowd of little creatures, dozens of whom are of the same age; and quietness can be obtained only by drilling, while play occasions an uproar which no nerves can easily bear. the brain and nerves of infants are tender and irritable; and in the quietest home, a sensible mother takes care that the little creature is protected from hurry, and loud noises, and fear, and fatigue of its faculties. she sees when it begins to look pale, or turns cross or sick, and instantly removes it from excitement. but it is impossible thus to protect each child in a school: and the consequence is that the amount of mortality in infant schools, as in every large assemblage of infants, is very great. there is no saying whether as many might not perish from accident and some kind of misery, if they were left in their garrets and street haunts; but the facts show that home is the proper place for little children whose parents make a real home for them; and no apparent forwardness of school infants can alter the case. in truth, school is no place of education for any children whatever till their minds are well put in action. this is the work which has to be done at home, and which may be done in all homes where the mother is a sensible woman. this done, a good school is a resource of inestimable advantage for cultivating the intellect, and aiding the acquisition of knowledge: but it is of little or no use without preparation at home. so at the age of which we speak, parents may be satisfied that they have the matter in their own hands. we have seen that the perceptive faculties are the first of the intellectual powers which act: and that there is plenty of material for their exercise everywhere, and all day long. the next set of faculties comes pretty early into operation, and so much of the future wealth of the mind depends on their cultivation that they ought to have the serious attention of parents. i refer to the conceptive faculties. the time has come when the child is perhaps less intensely impressed by actual objects, while it becomes capable of conceiving of something that it does not see. at this period, the little boy drags about the horse that has lost head and tail and a leg or two: and the little girl hugs a rag bundle which she calls her doll. the boy does not want a better horse, nor the girl a real doll. the idea is everything to them, by virtue of their conceptive faculty. staring, meagre pictures please them now,--better than the finest; and stories, with few incidents and no filling up. the faculty is so vigorous, while, of course, very narrow in its range, from the scantiness of the child's knowledge, that the merest sketch is enough to stimulate it to action; the rudest toys, the most meagre drawing, the baldest story. the mother's business is now clear and easy. her business is to supply more and more material for these faculties to work upon:--to give, as occasion arises, more and more knowledge of actual things, and furnish representations or suggestions in the course of her intercourse with the child. nothing is easier; for in fact she has only to make herself the child's cheerful companion: and in a manner which can go on while she is employed in her household occupations, or walking in the fields or the streets. the child asks a myriad of questions; and she must make some kind of cheerful answer to them all, if she lets him talk at all. she will often have to tell him that she does not know this or that; for a child's questions reach far beyond the bounds of our knowledge: but she must not leave him without some sort of answer to appease his restless faculties. and his questions will suggest to her a multitude of things to tell him which he will be eager to hear, as long as they hang upon any thing real which he knows already. stories and pictures (including toys, which to him are pictures) are what he likes best; and she will make either stories or pictures,--short and vivid,--of what she tells him. the stories and pictures of her conversation must be simple and literal; and so must any sketches she may make for him with pencil and paper, or a bit of chalk upon the pavement. she may make four straight strokes, with two horizontal lines above, and a circle for a head, and call it a horse; and a horse it will be to him, because it calls up the image of a horse in his mind. but if she draws it ever so well, and puts wings to it, he will not like it half so much, even if she tells him that its name is pegasus, and there are some pretty stories about such a horse. perhaps he will be afraid of it. there can scarcely be a stronger instance of the power of such a child's conceptive faculty than in his own attempts to draw. he draws the cat, or a soldier, and is in raptures with it. mark his surprise when his mother points out to him that the cat's head is bigger than her body, and that the soldier is all legs and arms and gun, and has no body at all. he sees this, and admits it, and draws a better one: but he would not have found out for himself that there was anything amiss the first time. the idea was complete in his mind; and he thought he saw its representation on the paper, till his mother roused his perceptive powers by making him observe the real cat and soldier, and their proportions. i remember once being amused at seeing how very short a time was necessary to bring the perceptive faculties into their due relation to the conceptive. a little boy who had taken a journey, was exceedingly delighted with the river-side inn at ferry-bridge in yorkshire; and he must draw it. when he was a hundred miles further north, he must draw it again: and diligently enough he persevered, kneeling on a chair,--drawing the river and the bridge, and a house, and a heap of coals,--each coal being round, and almost as big as the house. when his paper was nearly all scrawled over, he went unwillingly away to his dinner, from which he hastened back to his drawing. but o! what consternation there was in his face, and what large tears rolled down his cheeks, till he hid his face with his pinafore. he wailed and sobbed:--"somebody had spoiled his drawing." when asked what made him think so, and assured that nobody had touched it, he sobbed out "i'm sure i never made it such a muddle." before dinner, he saw his work with the conceptive,--after dinner with the perceptive faculties; and it is no wonder that he thought two persons had been at it. without going over again any of the ground traversed in the chapter on fear, i may just observe that at this period children are particularly liable to fear. almost any appearance suffices to suggest images; and the repetition of any image invariably, at any time or place, is in itself terrifying to those of older nerves than the children we are thinking of. now is the time when portraits seem to stare at the gazer, and to turn their eyes wherever he moves. now is the time when a crack in the plaster of a wall, or an outline in a chintz pattern or a paper-hanging, suggests the image of some monster, and perhaps makes the child afraid of his room or his bed, while his mother has no perception of the fact. the mother should be on the watch, without any appearance of being so. i have spoken of only the early stage of the activity of the conceptive faculties. we see how it goes on in the appetite for fiction which is common to all children,--in the eagerness of boys for books of voyages and travels, and for playing soldiers, and school-master, and making processions, while the girls are playing school-mistress, and dressing up, and pretending to be the queen. the whole period is, or ought to be, very precious to the parents; for it is the time for storing their children's minds with images and ideas, which are the materials for the exercise of the higher faculties at a later time. the simple method of management is to practise the old maxim "live and let live." the mother's mind must be awake, to meet the vivacious mind of the child: and she must see that the child's is lively and natural, and be careful neither to over-excite it by her anxiety to be always teaching, nor to baulk and depress it by discouraging too much its sometimes inconvenient loquacity and curiosity. it is well that there should be times when children of six and upwards should amuse themselves and one another without troubling their elders; but a vivacious child must talk and inquire a great deal every day, or, if repressed, suffer from some undue exercise of its mental activity. it should never be forgotten that the happier a child is, the cleverer he will be. this is not only because, in a state of happiness, the mind is free, and at liberty for the exercise of its faculties, instead of spending its thoughts and energy in brooding over troubles; but also because the action of the brain is stronger when the frame is in a state of hilarity: the ideas are more clear; impressions of outward objects are more vivid; and the memory will not let them slip. this is reason enough for the mother to take some care that she is the cheerful guide and comforter that her child needs. if she is anxious or fatigued she will exercise some control over herself, and speak cheerfully, and try to enter freely into the subject of the moment;--to meet the child's mind, in short, instead of making his sink for want of companionship. a rather low instance of the effect of the stimulus of joy in quickening the powers occurred within my knowledge;--a rather low one, but illustrative enough. a little girl, the youngest of her class at school, did her french lessons fairly; but, as a matter of course, was always at or near the bottom, while a tall girl, five years older, clever and industrious, was always, as a matter of course, at the top. one day, there happened to be a long word in question in the vocabulary, which nobody knew but the little girl; so she went to the top. there was not much excitement of ambition in the case: she felt it to be an accident merely, and the tall girl was very kind to her;--there could hardly be less of the spirit of rivalry in such a case than there was here. but the joy of the child was great; and her surprise,--both at the fact of her position, and at the power she found in herself to keep it;--and keep it she did for many weeks, though the tall girl never missed a word in all that time. the dull french vocabulary suddenly became to the child a book of living imagery. the very letters of the words impressed themselves like pictures upon her memory; and each word, becoming suddenly interesting of itself, called up some imagery, which prevented its being forgotten. all this was pleasant; and then there was the comfort and security about the lesson being perfect. the child not only hoped every day that she should get well through, but felt it impossible that she should ever forget a word of it. when at last she failed, it was through depression of spirits. while she was learning her lesson at home, her baby-sister was ill, and crying sadly. it was impossible to get any impression out of the book:--the page turned into common french vocabulary again; and the next morning, not only the tall girl stepped into her proper place, but the little one rapidly passed down to her old stand at the bottom. children who read from the love of reading are usually supremely happy over their book. a wise parent will indulge the love of reading, not only from kindness in permitting the child to do what it likes best, but because what is read with enjoyment has intense effect upon the intellect. the practice of reading for amusement must not begin too soon: and it must be permitted by very slow degrees, till the child is so practised in the art of reading as to have its whole mind at liberty for the subject, without having to think about the lines or the words. till he is sufficiently practised for this, he should be read to: and it will then soon appear whether he is likely to be moderate when he gets a book into his own hands.--my own opinion is that it is better to leave him to his natural tastes,--to his instincts,--when that important period of his life arrives which makes him an independent reader. of course, his proper duty must be done;--his lessons, or work of other kinds, and his daily exercise. but it seems to me better to abstain from interfering with that kind of strong inclination than to risk the evils of thwarting it. perhaps scarcely any person of mature years can conceive what the appetite for reading is to a child. it goes off, or becomes changed in mature years, to such a degree as to make the facts of a reading childhood scarcely credible in remembrance, or even when before the eyes. but it is all right; and the process had better not be disturbed. the apprehension of a child is so quick, his conceptive faculty is so ravenous for facts and pictures, or the merest suggestions, and he is so entirely free from those philosophical checks which retard in adults the process of reception from books, that he can, at ten years old, read the same book twice as fast as he can,--if he duly improves meanwhile,--twenty years later. i have seen a young girl read moore's lalla rookh through, except a very few pages, before breakfast,--and not a late breakfast; and not a passage of the poem was ever forgotten. when she had done, the arabian scenes appeared to be the reality, and the breakfast table and brothers and sisters the dream: but that was sure to come right; and all the ideas of the thick volume were added to her store. i have seen a school-boy of ten lay himself down, back uppermost, with the quarto edition of "thalaba" before him, on the first day of the easter holidays, and turn over the leaves, notwithstanding his inconvenient position, as fast as if he was looking for something, till, in a very few hours it was done, and he was off with it to the public library, bringing back the "curse of kehama." thus he went on with all southey's poems, and some others, through his short holidays,--scarcely moving voluntarily all those days except to run to the library. he came out of the process so changed, that none of his family could help being struck by it. the expression of his eye, the cast of his countenance, his use of words, and his very gait were changed. in ten days, he had advanced years in intelligence: and i have always thought that this was the turning-point of his life. his parents wisely and kindly let him alone,--aware that school would presently put an end to all excess in the new indulgence. i can speak from experience of what children feel towards parents who mercifully leave them to their own propensities,--forbearing all reproach about the ill manners and the selfishness of which the sinners are keenly conscious all the while. some children's greediness for books is like a drunkard's for wine. they can no more keep their hands off a beloved book than the tippler from the bottle before him. the great difference as to the safety of the case is that the child's greediness is sure to subside into moderation in time, from the development of new faculties, while the drunkard's is sure to go on increasing till all is over with him. if parents would regard the matter in this way, they would neither be annoyed at the excess of the inconvenient propensity, nor proud of any child who has it. it is no sign yet of a superiority of intellect; much less of that wisdom which in adults is commonly supposed to arise from large book-knowledge. it is simply a natural appetite for that provision of ideas and images which should, at this season, be laid in for the exercise of the higher faculties which have yet to come into use.--as i have said, i know from experience the state of things which exists when a child cannot help reading to an amount which the parents think excessive, and yet are unwilling, for good reasons, to prohibit. one sunday afternoon, when i was seven years old, i was prevented by illness from going to chapel;--a circumstance so rare that i felt very strange and listless. i did not go to the maid who was left in the house, but lounged about the drawing-room, where, among other books which the family had been reading, was one turned down upon its face. it was a dull-looking octavo volume, thick, and bound in calf, as untempting a book to the eyes of a child as could well be seen: but, because it happened to be open, i took it up. the paper was like skim milk,--thin and blue, and the printing very ordinary. moreover, i saw the word argument,--a very repulsive word to a child. but my eye caught the word "satan;" and i instantly wanted to know how anybody could argue about satan. i saw that he fell through chaos, found the place in the poetry;--and lived heart, mind, and soul in milton from that day till i was fourteen. i remember nothing more of that sunday, vivid as is my recollection of the moment of plunging into chaos: but i remember that from that time till a young friend gave me a pocket edition of milton, the calf-bound volume was never to be found because i had got it somewhere; and that, for all those years, to me the universe moved to milton's music. i wonder how much of it i knew by heart--enough to be always repeating some of it to myself, with every change of light and darkness, and sound and silence,--the moods of the day, and the seasons of the year. it was not my love of milton which required the forbearance of my parents,--except for my hiding the book, and being often in an absent fit. it was because this luxury had made me ravenous for more. i had a book in my pocket,--a book under my pillow; and in my lap as i sat at meals: or rather, on this last occasion it was a newspaper. i used to purloin the daily london paper before dinner, and keep possession of it,--with a painful sense of the selfishness of the act; and with a daily pang of shame and self-reproach, i slipped away from the table when the dessert was set on, to read in another room. i devoured all shakspere, sitting on a footstool, and reading by firelight, while the rest of the family were still at table. i was incessantly wondering that this was permitted; and intensely, though silently grateful i was for the impunity and the indulgence. it never extended to the omission of any of my proper business. i learned my lessons; but it was with the prospect of reading while i was brushing my hair at bedtime; and many a time have i stood reading, with the brush suspended, till i was far too cold to sleep. i made shirts with due diligence,--being fond of sewing; but it was with goldsmith, or thomson, or milton open on my lap, under my work, or hidden by the table, that i might learn pages and cantos by heart. the event justified my parents in their indulgence. i read more and more slowly, fewer and fewer authors, and with ever-increasing seriousness and reflexion, till i became one of the slowest of readers, and a comparatively sparing one.--of course, one example is not a rule for all; but the number of ravenous readers among children is so large, and among adults so small in comparison, that i am disposed to consider it a general fact that when the faculties, naturally developed, reach a certain point of forwardness, it is the time for laying in a store of facts and impressions from books which are needed for ulterior purposes. the parents' main business during this process is to look to the quality of the books read:--i mean merely to see that the child has the freest access to those of the best quality. nor do i mean only to such as the parent may think good for a child of such and such an age. the child's own mind is a truer judge in this case than the parents' suppositions. let but noble books be on the shelf,--the classics of our language,--and the child will get nothing but good. the last thing that parents need fear is that the young reader will be hurt by passages in really good authors which might raise a blush a few years later. whatever children do not understand slips through the mind, and leaves no trace; and what they do understand of matters of passion is to them divested of its mischief. purified editions of noble books are monuments of wasted labour: for it ought to be with adults as it is with children;--their purity should be an all-sufficient purifier. the second stage in the intellectual education of the household children, then seems to be that in which the young creatures, having learned to use their own limbs and senses, and acquired the command of speech, begin to use their powers for the acquisition of materials for future thought. they listen, they look about them, they inquire, they read; and, above all, they dream. life is for them all pictures. everything comes to them in pictures. in preparation for the more serious work to come, the parent has chiefly to watch and follow nature;--to meet the requirements of the child's mind, put the material of knowledge in its way, and furnish it with the arts necessary for the due use of its knowledge and its nobler powers:--the arts of reading, ready writing, and the recording and working of numbers; and the knowledge of the grammar of some one language, at least. besides this, these best days of his memory should be used for storing up word-knowledge, and technical rules, and, as a luxury after these dry efforts, as much poetry as the pupil is disposed to learn; which will be a good deal, if the selection is, in any degree, left to his own choice: and some portion of it may well be so. thus far, here is nothing that may not be supplied in the most homely household in the land, where there is any value for the human intellect, and any intention to educate the children. it is difficult to say what more could be done in the school-room of a palace. the intellect of the high and low is of the same nature, and developes itself in the same modes. while its training depends on the love and good sense of parents, as in this stage, it depends simply on the quality of the parents whether the children of the palace or of the cottage are the better educated. "no mystery is here; no special boon for high and not for low; for proudly graced, and not for meek of heart." chapter xxi. intellectual training.--the reasoning faculties.--female education. the time comes at last,--sooner with one child, later with another,--when the superior faculties begin to show their activity; when the young pupil attempts to reason, and should be helped to reason well. the preparation for this time ought to have gone on during all the preceding years, in the establishment of a perfect understanding between his parents' minds and his own. he ought to have received nothing but truth from them, in their intellectual, as in all their other intercourse. what i mean is this. from the time he could speak, the child has no doubt asked the why of everything that interested him. now, no one knows the ultimate why of anything whatever; and it is right to say this to the inquirer,--telling him as much as he can understand of the how; and it is but little that the wisest of us know of the how. for instance, the little thing cries out "o! there is a robin!" "a robin! and what is it doing?" "it is hopping about. it has picked up something. o! it is a worm. what does it get the worm for?" "to eat it. robins eat a great many worms." "why do they eat worms? why does this robin eat that worm?" "because it is hungry." no intelligent child will stop here. he will want to know why the robin does not eat anything rather than worms; why the robin is hungry; and certainly he will sooner or later wonder why there are robins at all. about these latter mysteries, the parent knows no more than the questioner: and he should say so. he may tell something of the how;--how the robin and all other living creatures are impelled to eat; how food gives nourishment; and so on. he may or may not, according to his judgment, give information, as far as he has it himself: but it ought not to be a matter of choice with him whether to put off a child with an unsatisfactory answer, or to declare truthfully his own ignorance. he must never weary of replying "i don't know," if fairly brought to this point, after telling what he does know. if he tells all that is understood of a tree and its growth, so that he thinks his child cannot possibly have more to ask, he will find there are other questions still to come. "why are trees green?" if they are not all green, "why is the red beech red, and the pine black?" "why does a tree grow, instead of being always tall?" "why is john smith handsome while tom brown is ugly?" "why do people exist when they could not tell beforehand whether they should like it or not?" now, it will not do, if the child's mind is to be fairly dealt with, to give a dogmatical answer; to put off the inquirer with a form of words, or any assurance of anything that is not absolutely known to be true. "i do not know," is the answer which parental fidelity requires. "does anybody know?" is the next question. "nobody." "shall i ever know?" "i don't think you will: but you can try when you grow up, if you like." of course, the child determines to try when he is a man: and meantime, he is satisfied for the present. there is an understanding between his parent and himself, which will be of infinite use to him when his time comes for finding out truth for himself by a comparison of abstractions;--that is, by reasoning. with some abstractions every child becomes early familiar; as the days of the week. perhaps the first which he is able to use for purposes of reasoning are numbers. they are at least eminently useful as a link between tangible objects and those which are ideal. a child sees on the table that two pins added to two make four pins: and then that a button and a thimble put down beside a marble and a halfpenny make four things, as well as if they were all of the same sort. he thus receives into his mind the abstract notion of numbers. whenever by his own thought, or by inquiry of others, he clearly sees that, because two sixes make twelve, four threes must make twelve, he has begun to reason. he has found out a truth by comparing an abstraction with an abstraction: that is, he has begun to reason. having begun,--having once satisfaction in grasping an invisible truth in this way,--he will be disposed to go on: and i, for one, would allow him to do so, at his own pace. nothing can be more foolish than to stimulate the reasoning faculties too early: but i do not see why their natural action should be repressed because of a theory that the reasoning faculties should not come into activity till such or such an age. i know how painful such repression is to a thoughtful child, and how useless is the attempt to stop the process, which will only be carried on with less advantage, instead of being put an end to. i knew a girl of eleven, thoughtful and timid, seldom venturing to ask questions, or to open her mind about what occupied it most,--who, on some unusual incitement to confidence during a summer evening walk, opened a theme of perplexity, to get a solution from a grown-up brother, whom she regarded as able to solve anything. she told him that she could not see how, if god foreknew everything, and could ordain everything, men could ever be said to sin against him, or be justly punished for anything they did: and then she went on to the other particular of that problem;--how, if god was all powerful to create happiness, and all good to desire it, there came to be any suffering in the world. her brother answered her with kindness in his tone, but injudiciously. he told her that that was a very serious question which she was too young to consider yet; and that some years hence would be time enough. she was dissatisfied and hurt;--not from pride; but because she felt it hard to be left in a perplexity from which she fully supposed her brother could relieve her. she felt that if she could ask the question,--thus put in a definite form,--she must be capable of understanding the answer. and so she undoubtedly was. if the brother held the doctrine of free will, he should have replied that he did not know;--that he could not understand the perplexity any more than herself. if he held the necessarian doctrine, he should have imparted it to her; for her question showed that she was capable of receiving it. the end of the matter was that she suffered for years under that reply, never again venturing to propose her difficulty to any one. she worked her way through the soluble half of the question alone at last,--thinking first, and then reading, and then meditating again, till all was clear and settled; and in her mature years she found herself fast anchored on the necessarian doctrine,--rather wondering how she could have been so long in satisfying herself about a matter so clear, but aware that she had found an inestimable gain;--which she might have reposed upon some years earlier, if the natural working of her faculties had been trusted as it might have been. our enjoyment of our faculties appears to me to be more proportioned to their quality than their strength:--that, whether any one of us has the reasoning power, or the imagination stronger or weaker than the perceptive and conceptive faculties, he enjoys most the exercise of the higher. certainly, children whose faculties are developed freely and fairly have an intense relish for reasoning, while the mind remains unwearied. the commonest topics voluntarily chosen are conduct and character; because the most familiar and interesting abstractions are those which are connected with morals. how boys and girls will debate by the hour together about the stoicism of junius brutus, and the patriotism of brutus and cassius; and about all the suicides of all romans, and all the questionable acts of all heroes! the mother is the great resource here, because she is always at hand; and these matters are of such pressing importance to the little people, that they cannot wait till their father comes in, or can give them some of his evening leisure. these topics are good as an exercise of both the moral and intellectual powers: but they do not yield full satisfaction to the reasoning faculty, because they can never be brought to any certain and evident issue. the conclusions of morals are clear enough for practical guidance; but they are not proveable. for the full satisfaction of the reasoning faculties, therefore, children must set to work elsewhere.--they may get something of it out of their lessons in grammar, if they are trusted with the sense of the grammar they are taught: lighting upon an accusative case and a verb in a latin sentence, they know there must be a nominative: and there it is presently, accordingly. finding an ablative absolute, they are confident of finding some sort of proposition: and there it is, to their hand. the words on the page before them are as real to the sense as the written numerals on their slates: but behind both there is a working of unseen laws,--independent of the signification of either words or numerals,--whose operation and issue it is a deep-felt pleasure to follow and apprehend. the rules of grammar, and the laws of numbers,--(the rules of arithmetic, in short,)--are abstractions proceeding from abstractions; and their workings bring out a conclusion clear to the pupil's apprehension, and unquestionable. this is all exercise of the reasoning powers; and it is this exercise of those powers, or the use of ear and memory only which makes the difference between a pupil who learns grammar and arithmetic with the understanding or by rote. i once witnessed a curious instance of the difference between the reasoning pupils of a class at school and the learners by rote. the test was, i think, designed by the master to be a test; and it answered his purpose even better than our strenuous exercises in grammar and arithmetic. our master proposed to give some of us an idea of english composition, and said he would next week explain to us how to set about it. some of us, however, were all on fire with the idea of writing essays, and were by no means disposed to wait. the next time our master entered the school-room, eight or ten pairs of beseeching eyes were fixed upon him; and he, being a good-natured man, asked what we wished. what we wanted was to be allowed immediately to write an essay on music. he had no objection; but he asked for some precision in the object of the essay;--proposed that it should be the uses of psalmody, or some such topic, which could be treated in the limits of a school theme;--but no; he saw by the faces and manner of the class that it must be an essay on music. i was the youngest of the class, who ranged from eleven to sixteen: and i wondered whether the elder ones felt as i did when i saw the little smile at the corners of the mouth, amidst the careful respect of our kind master. i felt that we were somehow doing something very silly, though i could not clearly see what. it was plain enough when we brought up our themes. our master's respect and kindness never failed: and he now was careful to say that there was much that was true in each essay; but----. we saw the "but" for ourselves, and were ready to sink with shame; for nobody had courage to begin to laugh at our folly. such a mass of rhapsody and rhodomontade as we presented to our master! such highflying, incoherent nonsense! each was pretty well satisfied with her own rhapsody till she heard the seven or nine others read. "now, perhaps you perceive," our master began: and indeed we saw it all;--the lack of order and object;--the flimsiness,--and our own presumption. we were now more ready to be taught. some, however, could not yet learn; and others liked this lesson better than any they had ever attempted. this is the difference which induces me to tell the story here. we were taught the parts of a theme, as our master and many others approved and practised them, in sermons and essays: and the nature and connexion of these parts were so clearly pointed out, that on the instant it appeared to me that a sudden light was cast at once on the processes of thought and of composition,--for both of which i had before an indistinct and somewhat oppressive reverence. i saw how the proposition, the reason, the example, the confirmation, and the conclusion led out the subject into order and clearness, and, in fact, regularly emptied our minds of what we had to say upon it. from that day till our school was broken up (and my heart nearly broken with it) a year and a half afterwards, the joy of my life was writing themes;--or rather composing them; for the act of writing was terribly irksome. but that which some of us eminently enjoyed was altogether burdensome to others, from the procedure of the task being utterly unintelligible. i suppose their reasoning faculties were yet unawakened,--though they were not so very young. the proposition they usually wrote down in the words in which our subject was given to us;--the mere title of the theme. the reason was any sort of reason about any affair whatever,--the authors protesting that a reason was a reason any day. the examples were begged, or copied out of any history book. the confirmation was omitted, or declared to consist in "the universal experience of mankind,"--whatever the subject might be: and as for the conclusion, that was easy enough:--it was only to say that for all the reasons given, the author concluded so and so,--in the words of the title. this was a case in which it would have been better to wait awhile, till the meaning of the task and its method should dawn upon the minds yet unready. but, for those who were capable, it was a task of great pleasure and privilege; and we loved our master for testing and trusting our faculties in a direction so new to us. those studies which require reasoning as a means to a proveable issue are of a high order, as regards both profit and pleasure: and boys and girls will be the better through life for whatever mathematical training their parents can procure for them. be it little or be it much, they will have reason to be grateful as long as they live for what they can obtain. i mention girls, as well as boys, confident that every person able to see the right, and courageous enough to utter it, will sanction what i say. i must declare that on no subject is more nonsense talked, (as it seems to me) than on that of female education, when restriction is advocated. in works otherwise really good, we find it taken for granted that girls are not to learn the dead languages and mathematics, because they are not to exercise professions where these attainments are wanted; and a little further on we find it said that the chief reason for boys and young men studying these things is to improve the quality of their minds. i suppose none of us will doubt that everything possible should be done to improve the quality of the mind of every human being.--if it is said that the female brain is incapable of studies of an abstract nature,--that is not true: for there are many instances of women who have been good mathematicians, and good classical scholars. the plea is indeed nonsense on the face of it; for the brain which will learn french will learn greek; the brain which enjoys arithmetic is capable of mathematics.--if it is said that women are light-minded and superficial, the obvious answer is that their minds should be the more carefully sobered by grave studies, and the acquisition of exact knowledge.--if it is said that their vocation in life does not require these kinds of knowledge,--that is giving up the main plea for the pursuit of them by boys;--that it improves the quality of their minds.--if it is said that such studies unfit women for their proper occupations,--that again is untrue. men do not attend the less to their professional business, their counting-house or their shop, for having their minds enlarged and enriched, and their faculties strengthened by sound and various knowledge; nor do women on that account neglect the work-basket, the market, the dairy and the kitchen. if it be true that women are made for these domestic occupations, then of course they will be fond of them. they will be so fond of what comes most naturally to them that no book-study (if really not congenial to their minds) will draw them off from their homely duties. for my part, i have no hesitation whatever in saying that the most ignorant women i have known have been the worst housekeepers; and that the most learned women i have known have been among the best,--wherever they have been early taught and trained to household business, as every woman ought to be. a woman of superior mind knows better than an ignorant one what to require of her servants, how to deal with trades-people, and how to economise time: she is more clear-sighted about the best ways of doing things; has a richer mind with which to animate all about her, and to solace her own spirit in the midst of her labours. if nobody doubts the difference in pleasantness of having to do with a silly and narrow-minded woman and with one who is intelligent and enlightened, it must be clear that the more intelligence and enlightenment there is, the better. one of the best housekeepers i know,--a simple-minded, affectionate-hearted woman, whose table is always fit for a prince to sit down to, whose house is always neat and elegant, and whose small income yields the greatest amount of comfort, is one of the most learned women ever heard of. when she was a little girl, she was sitting sewing in the window-seat while her brother was receiving his first lesson in mathematics from his tutor. she listened, and was delighted with what she heard; and when both left the room, she seized upon the euclid that lay on the table, ran up to her room, went over the lesson, and laid the volume where it was before. every day after this, she sat stitching away and listening, in like manner, and going over the lesson afterwards, till one day she let out the secret. her brother could not answer a question which was put to him two or three times; and, without thinking of anything else, she popped out the answer. the tutor was surprised, and after she had told the simple truth, she was permitted to make what she could of euclid. some time after, she spoke confidentially to a friend of the family,--a scientific professor,--asking him, with much hesitation and many blushes, whether he thought it was wrong for a woman to learn latin. "certainly not," he said; "provided she does not neglect any duty for it.--but why do you want to learn latin?" she wanted to study newton's principia: and the professor thought this a very good reason. before she was grown into a woman, she had mastered the principia of newton. and now, the great globe on which we live is to her a book in which she reads the choice secrets of nature; and to her the last known wonders of the sky are disclosed: and if there is a home more graced with accomplishments, and more filled with comforts, i do not know such an one. will anybody say that this woman would have been in any way better without her learning?--while we may confidently say that she would have been much less happy. as for women not wanting learning, or superior intellectual training, that is more than any one should undertake to say in our day. in former times, it was understood that every woman, (except domestic servants) was maintained by her father, brother or husband; but it is not so now. the footing of women is changed, and it will change more. formerly, every woman was destined to be married; and it was almost a matter of course that she would be: so that the only occupation thought of for a woman was keeping her husband's house, and being a wife and mother. it is not so now. from a variety of causes, there is less and less marriage among the middle classes of our country; and much of the marriage that there is does not take place till middle life. a multitude of women have to maintain themselves who would never have dreamed of such a thing a hundred years ago. this is not the place for a discussion whether this is a good thing for women or a bad one; or for a lamentation that the occupations by which women might maintain themselves are so few; and of those few, so many engrossed by men. this is not the place for a speculation as to whether women are to grow into a condition of self-maintenance, and their dependence for support upon father, brother and husband to become only occasional. with these considerations, interesting as they are, we have no business at this moment. what we have to think of is the necessity,--in all justice, in all honour, in all humanity, in all prudence,--that every girl's faculties should be made the most of, as carefully as boys'. while so many women are no longer sheltered, and protected, and supported, in safety from the world (as people used to say) every woman ought to be fitted to take care of herself. every woman ought to have that justice done to her faculties that she may possess herself in all the strength and clearness of an exercised and enlightened mind, and may have at command, for her subsistence, as much intellectual power and as many resources as education can furnish her with. let us hear nothing of her being shut out, because she is a woman, from any study that she is capable of pursuing: and if one kind of cultivation is more carefully attended to than another, let it be the discipline and exercise of the reasoning faculties. from the simplest rules of arithmetic let her go on, as her brother does, as far into the depths of science, and up to the heights of philosophy as her powers and opportunities permit; and it will certainly be found that the more she becomes a reasoning creature, the more reasonable, disciplined and docile she will be: the more she knows of the value of knowledge and of all other things, the more diligent she will be;--the more sensible of duty,--the more interested in occupations,--the more womanly. this is only coming round to the points we started from; that every human being is to be made as perfect as possible: and that this must be done through the most complete development of all the faculties. chapter xxii. intellectual training.--the imaginative faculties. the young mind is very well entertained for a time by the exercise of its reasoning powers,--if, instead of being baffled, they are encouraged and trained. but, there is a higher set of faculties still which begin to work ere long; and usually in such proportion to the reasoning powers as would seem to indicate some connexion between them. or it may be that the moral fervour which gives great advantage to the reasoning powers is exactly that which is essential to the development of the highest of human faculties,--the imagination. certain it is that the children who most patiently and earnestly search out the reasons of things,--either looking deep into causes, or following them high up to consequences, are those who most strongly manifest the first stirrings of the heavenly power which raises them highest in the ranks of being known to exist. they may, or they may not, have shown a power of fancy before this time. they may, or they may not, have manifested a strong conceptive faculty; a power of forming images of objects already well known or clearly described; but, if they can so think of unseen things, so compare them and connect them, as to bring truth out at last,--if, in short, they reflect and reason well, the probability is that they will prove to have a good portion of the higher faculty of imagination. at least, we may be sure that a child of high imaginative faculty has good reasoning powers. during the first exercise of the reasoning powers a child may, and probably will, become thoughtful. he will look grave at times, and be buried in reflection for awhile: but this gravity does not make him less cheerful; and when he has done thinking about the particular thing his head was full of, he is as merry as ever. but a little later, and his thoughtfulness becomes something quite different from this. if there is some mingling of melancholy with it, the parents must not be uneasy. it is all natural, and therefore right. he is beginning to see and to feel his position in the universe; to see and to feel that by the powers within him he is connected with all that exists, and can conceive of all that may exist: and his new consciousness gives a light to his eye and a meaning to his countenance that were never seen there before. while he was an infant, he was much like any other young animal for his thoughtless and unconscious enjoyment of all the good things that were strewed in his daily path. then, he began to see deeper,--into the reasons of things, and their connexions; and now he had become higher than other young animals,--for they cannot perceive the truths of numbers, or discover by thought anything not before known in any science. but now, he has become conscious of himself; he can contemplate himself as he can contemplate any other object of thought; and he is occupied in connecting his own thoughts,--his own mind--with every object of thought. it is upon his consciousness and his thoughts united that his imaginative power has to act. by it, he sees everything in a new light, and feels everything with a new depth: and though he often finds this a glorious pleasure, he is sometimes much oppressed by it: and then comes the kind of gentle melancholy before referred to. see the difference, to the child of dull imagination, or of an age too young for it, and the child superior in years or in faculty,--when they contemplate nature, or human life, or anything whatever;--when they read the history of england, or conversations on chemistry, or shakspere's plays, or anything you please. show them the sky as you are coming home at night. the one will learn to know the constellations as easily perhaps as the other, and will show somebody else the next night which is the great bear, and which is orion: but the duller or younger child sees nothing more than what is before its eyes; or, if told that all those stars are worlds, believes it without seeing or feeling anything beyond the mere fact as conveyed in the words. but at the same moment the faculty of imagination in the other child is kindling up within him,--and kindling all his other powers. he sees, by his mind, far far beyond the bounds of human measurement and the human sight;--sees the universe full of rolling suns; worlds for ever moving in their circles, and never clashing; worlds of which there are myriads vaster than our own globe. all this he sees, not by gazing at the sky; for he sees it better when his head is on his pillow,--or when his hands are busy with some mechanical employment, the next day. if he feels how, with all his busy mind and swelling heart, and whole world of ideas, he is yet but an atom in this great universe, almost too small for notice, is not this enough to make him thoughtful? and if there is a tinge of melancholy in his seriousness, may it not be allowed for? again, in reading the history of england,--the duller or younger child may remember the kings, and the great men, and the great battles, and the great famine and plague; and perhaps almost all the events told: and, if he has some considerable conceptive faculty, he may have pictures in his mind of the ancient britons, and then of king alfred and his people; and then of the normans coming over and landing, and establishing themselves in our island. but the superior child sees all this, and very much more. the minds of all the people he reads of are as manifest to him as the events of their lives. he feels the wild valour of the old britons while he reads of them; and his soul melts in reverence, and grief, and pity for king alfred; and then it glows with courage; and then it grows calm with faith as he sees the courage and faith that were in king alfred. and so on, through the whole history. and even more than this. he sees more than the individuals of whom he reads could see of themselves. the kingdom and the nation are ideas in his mind, as vivid as his idea of the personages he reads of. he feels when the nation is rising or falling; rejoices when a great and good man,--a sage, or a patriot, or a martyr--arises to bless his race, and burns with indignation and grief when the wicked have their own way. is there not something here to make him thoughtful? and if there is a tinge of melancholy in his seriousness, may it not be allowed for? suppose these two to read "conversations on chemistry," or "scientific dialogues,"--they will see and feel as differently as in the former cases. the inferior child will find some entertainment, and particularly if allowed to try chemical experiments: but these experiments will be to him a sort of cookery;--a putting things together, in order to succeed in producing some result,--amusing or pretty. his smattering of chemistry is to him now a plaything, whatever it may become when he is wiser. but how different is it with the elder one, whose awakened imagination now silently enters with him into every chamber of his own mind and every scene of nature--opening his vision with a divine touch, and showing him everything in its vastness and its inner truth! he does not want to try chemical experiments. he would rather think quietly of the great agents of nature, and see them, with the eye of his mind, for ever at their work;--heat, spreading through all things, and even hiding in the polar ice;--electricity, darting and streaming through all substances, and being the life of all that lives; and the flowing together and mixing of three airs to make air that we can breathe,--this flowing together and mixing having gone on ever since there were breathing creatures on the globe;--these great images, and those of the forces of the waters, the pressure of the atmosphere, the velocities of motion,--the mechanical action, in short, of the great forces of nature, occupy and move him more than any outward methods of proof of what has been laid open to him. or, if he tries experiments, the thing that impresses him is something far higher than amusement:--it is wonder and awe, and perhaps delight that he can put his hand in among the forces of nature, and take his share, and set nature to work for him. is it any wonder that his heart throbs, and his eyes swim or kindle, and that he had rather think than speak? and may he not be left undisturbed at such a moment, till his mind takes a lower tone? it is this faculty which has produced the highest benefits to the human race that it has ever enjoyed. the highest order of men who have lived are those in whom the power of imagination has been the strongest, the most disciplined, and the most elevated. the noblest gifts that have been given to men are the ideas which have proceeded from such minds. it is this order of mind alone that creates. others may discover, and adapt, and improve, and establish: but it is the imaginative order of mankind that creates,--whether it be the majestic steam-engine, or the immortal picture, or the divine poem. it should be a joyful thing to parents,--though it must be a very serious one,--to see clear tokens in any child of the development of this faculty,--the faculty of seeing things invisible,--of "seeing things that are not as though they were." if it is only of average strength, it is a true blessing, inasmuch as it ennobles the views and the life of the individual, if its benefit extends no further in a direct manner. if it appears in any marked degree, the parents' hearts cannot but be elated, though they may be anxious. it is a sign of natural nobility,--of a privilege higher than hereditary or acquired honour: and greater than a monarch can bestow. through it, if it be rightly trained, its possessor must enjoy the blessings of largeness of heart and wealth of mind, and probably of being a benefactor, more or less, to his race. now,--what are the tokens of this endowment? and how should it be treated? when a young person's views extend beyond the objects immediately presented to him, it is naturally seen in his countenance, manner, speech and habits. the questions he asks, the books he reads, his remarks on what he reads or hears, all show whether his mind is deeply employed. he is probably a great reader; and if he has been religiously brought up, he probably becomes intensely religious about the time of the development of his higher faculties.--he must be treated with great consideration and tenderness. if he is of an open disposition, apt to tell of his day dreams and aspirations, there must be no ridicule,--no disrespect from any part of the household. there ought to be none; for it is pretty certain that any day dreams and aspirations of his are more worthy of respect than any ridicule with which they can be visited. the way to strengthen and discipline his mind is not, as we have often said already, to repress any of its faculties, but to employ them well. in no case is this management more important than in the present. now, in this important period of youthful life, it is the greatest possible blessing if the son or daughter be on terms of perfect confidence with the mother. it is a kind of new life to a mother who has kept her mind and heart active and warm amidst her trials and cares, to enter into sympathy with the aspirations and imaginations of her ripening children. she has a keen enjoyment in the revival of her own young feelings and ideas;--some of the noblest she has known: and things which might appear extravagant at another time or from other persons, will be noble and animating as coming from those whose minds,--minds which she has watched from their first movements,--are now rapidly opening into comparative maturity. to her, then, the son or daughter need not fear to speak freely and openly. to her they may pour out their admiration of nature, their wonder at the sublimities of science; their speculations upon character; their soundings in the abysses of life and death; their glorious dreams of what they will be and do. the more she sympathises with them in their intellectual pleasures and tendencies, the more will her example tell upon them as a conscientious doer of the small duties of life: and thus she may silently and unconsciously obviate one of the chief dangers of this period of her children's lives. if they see that the mother who glows with the warmth of their emotions, and goes abroad through the universe hand in hand, as we may say, with them, to note and enjoy all that is mighty and beautiful, all that is heroic and sweet,--is yet as punctual in her everyday duty as the merest plodder and worldling, they will take shame to themselves for any reluctance that they feel to commonplace ideas and what seems to them drudgery. full confidence and sympathy are the first requisites of the treatment of this period. but the wise parent will have laid up material for the employment of the imaginative faculty, long before it can appear in any strength. the child will have been familiarised with a high and noble order of ideas; and especially of moral ideas: for the picturesque or scientific will be pretty sure to make themselves duly appreciated by the awakened ideal faculties. whatever the parent can tell of heroic conduct, of lofty character, of the grave crises and affecting changes of human life, will be so much material laid in for the virtuous and salutary use of those awakening faculties which might otherwise be occupied in selfishness and other mischief. let the mind be abundantly ministered to. this may be done in the most homely households where there is any nobility of mind. every parent has known some person who is noble and worthy of contemplation for character and conduct. every parent can tell some moving or striking tale of a human lot. to all, the heavens and the earth, the sea, and all that in them is, are open for contemplation. in every household, there is the bible: and in the houses of all who read this, there is, no doubt, milton, on the shelf beside the bible. with these parents have means enough for the education of their children's highest faculties. in these they hold a greater treasure than any other that can be found in royal abodes: and the kingdom of nature is a field which their children have free license to rove with the highest. let them have and enjoy these treasures abundantly. let them read all tales of noble adventure that can be obtained for them;--of the heroes that have struggled through polar ice and burning african sands; that have sailed on past the horizon of hope in the discovery of new continents, and have succeeded through faith, courage and patience. let the reading of good fiction be permitted, where the desire is strong. some of the highest interests of english history have been opened to the present generation by the novels of scott, as to many a preceding one by the plays of shakspere. my own opinion is that no harm is done, but much good, by an early reading of fiction of a high order: and no one can question its being better than leaving the craving mind to feed upon itself,--its own dreams of vanity or other selfishness,--or to seek an insufficient nourishment from books of a lower order. the imagination, once awakened, must and will work, and ought to work. let its working be ennobled, and not debased, by the material afforded to it. in the parents' sympathy must be included forbearance; forbearance with the uncertainty of temper and spirits, the extravagance of ideas, the absurd ambition, or fanaticism or, (as it is generally called) "romance" which show themselves more or less, on the opening of a strong imaginative faculty. it should be remembered that the young creature is half-living in a new world; and that the difficulty of reconciling this beloved new world with the familiar old one is naturally very trying to one who is just entering upon the struggles of the mind and of life. he cannot reconcile the world and its ways and its people with the ideals which are presenting themselves to him; and he becomes, for a time, irritable, or scornful, or depressed. one will be fanatical, for a time, and sleep on the boards, and make and keep a vow never to smile. another will be discontented, and apparently ungrateful, for a time, in the idea that he might be a hero if he had certain advantages which are not given him. another looks down already on all his neighbours on account of the great deeds he is to do by and by: and all are convinced,--every youth and maiden of them all,--that nobody can enter into their feelings,--nobody understand their minds,--nobody conceive of emotions and aspirations like theirs. at the moment, this is likely to be true; for their ideas and emotions are vast and stirring, beyond their own power to express; and it can scarcely happen that any one is at hand, just at the right season, to receive their out-pourings, and give them credit for more than they can tell.--with all the consequences of these new movements of the mind, the parents must have forbearance,--even to the point (if it must be) of witnessing an intimacy with some young companion, not very wise, who is the depository of more confidence than is offered to those who should be nearest and dearest. these waywardnesses and follies may have their day, and prove after all to have been, in their way, wholesome discipline. every waywardness brings its smart; and every folly leaves its sting of shame in the mind that is high enough to manifest any considerable power of imagination. they will punish and cure themselves; and probably in a short time. nature may be trusted here, as everywhere. if we have patience to let her work, without hindrance and without degradation, she will justify our confidence at last. give her free scope,--remove out of her way everything that is low and sordid, and needlessly irritating, and minister to her everything that is pure and gentle, and noble and true, and she will produce a glorious work. in the wildest flights of haughty and undisciplined imagination, the young aspirant will take heed enough to the beauty and dignity of a lowly, and dutiful and benignant walk in life, to come down and worship it when cruder visions have passed away. it is only to wait, in gentleness and cheerfulness, and the wild rhapsodist, or insolent fanatic will work his way through his snares into a new world of filial, as well as other duty, and, without being less of a poet, but because he is more of one, will be a better son and brother and neighbour,--making his life his highest poem. it will be said that we have here, in treating of the training of the intellectual faculties, recurred to the department of morals. and this is true. no part of human nature can work in isolation; and when we treat of any function by itself, it is for the convenience of our understandings, and not as a following of nature. no intellectual faculty can act independently of the moral; and the higher the faculties, the closer we find their interaction; till we arrive at the fact that veneration, benevolence, hope, conscientiousness and firmness cannot act to perfection except in company with a vigorous faculty of imagination, and strong reflective powers: and again, that the reasoning and imaginative powers can never work to their fullest capacity unless the highest of the moral powers are as active as themselves. in all true poetry, there is a tacit appeal to the sanction of conscience, and veneration and benevolence are the heavenly lights which rise upon the scene: while, on the other hand, no reverence is so deep, benevolence so pure, as those which are enriched by the profoundest thought, and refined and exalted by the noblest idealism. these truths bring us to a practical consideration as serious as any which our minds can receive and dwell upon. my own sense of it is so strong, and so confirmed by the experience of a life, that i feel that if i had the utmost power of thought and language that were ever possessed by the human being, i could do no justice to it:--that the only means of improving the _morale_ to the utmost is by elevating the ideal of the individual. it is well to improve the conduct, and satisfy the conscience of the child by calling upon its resolution to amend its faults in detail,--to control its evil tempers, and overcome its indolence and laxity: but this is a temporary method, insufficient for its ultimate needs. the strength of resolution fails when the season of youth is past, or is employed on other objects; and it is rare, as we all know, to see faults amended, and bad habits overcome in mature years: and then, if improvement proceeds, radically and continuously, it is by the mind being placed under good influences, operating both powerfully and continuously. of good influences, the most powerful and continuous is the presence in the mind of a lofty ideal. this is the great central fire which is always fed by the material it draws to itself, and which can hardly be extinguished. when the whole mind is possessed with the image of the godlike, ever growing with the expansion of the intelligence, and ever kindling with the glow of the affections, every passion is consumed, every weakness grows into the opposite strength; and the entire force of the moral life, set free from the exclusive care of the details of conduct, and from the incessant anxiety of self-regards, is at liberty to actuate the whole harmonious being in its now necessary pursuit of the highest moral beauty it can conceive of. to this godlike inspiration, strong and lofty powers of thought and imagination are essential: and if parents desire that their children should be what they are made to be,--"but a little lower than the angels,"--they must cherish these powers as the highest sources of moral inspiration. chapter xxiii. care of the habits.--importance of habit. the importance of habit is an old subject; as old as any in morals. for thousands of years, moralists and philosophers have written and preached about it; and everybody is convinced by what they say. but i much doubt whether, even yet, many penetrate into the depth of the matter. everybody sees, and everybody has felt the difficulty of breaking bad habits, and that there is no security to virtue so strong as long-formed good habits: but my observation compels me to think that scarcely anybody is aware of the whole truth;--that every human being (except such as are born defective) might be made perfectly good if his parents were wise enough to do all that might be done by the power of habit. this seems a bold thing to say, but i am convinced that it is true. i am aware that we cannot expect to see any parents wise enough to know how to make the fullest use of this power: and perhaps there are none, even of the tenderest parents, who can keep themselves up to an incessant vigilance over their infants, without any carelessness or flagging. sometimes they are busy; sometimes they are tired; sometimes they are disheartened. they are not perfectly wise and good themselves; and therefore they must sink below the mark, more or less. but i am sure it would be a great help to their strength, and vigilance, and heartiness, if they could clearly see how easily their children may be made anything they please. the great points, for conscientious parents, are to be fully convinced of the supreme importance of the formation of habits, and to begin early enough. if they will begin early enough, they will be sure to be convinced. but a pretty strong conviction may be had beforehand, by observation of the history and character of mankind. habits of belief are the most important of all: and everybody thinks so: and of all beliefs those which relate to duty,--those which are called religious--are the highest. now look round the world, and see how many individuals you can find who have inquired out for themselves what they think they believe. as for nations,--a nation of independent thinkers is a thing never dreamed of. such a spectacle as that has never been seen in the wildest visions of the most sanguine of poets and moralists. i have travelled among heathens, mohammedans, jews, and many kinds of christians; and i have found them all believing what they were taught, before they could reason, to hold as sacred truth; and this was exactly what their teachers were themselves taught to suppose (for one cannot call this belief) in the same manner. the red indian, on the shores of the american lakes, and on the wide prairie, is brought up, from the time he can understand language at all, to believe that there is a great spirit who lives far away over the waters or beyond the forests, who is jealous and angry if the people do not offer to him whatever they like best;--who forbids them to touch whatever he wants for himself;--who has favourites among their warriors, and is most pleased with those who most torture their bodies, to show their bravery. the indian believes in a good many inferior spirits, who do him good or harm, and mingle more in his affairs than the great spirit does. this is the indian way of thinking; and every indian child grows up to think in the same way, upon the whole, though one may be more sure than another of one or another part of the doctrine. no one of the whole tribe asks for any proof that things are so. the early habit of taking these doctrines for granted, as something solemn and sacred, which somebody must have known for true a long time ago, prevents any one but a thoughtful person here and there ever inquiring whether there is really any knowledge existing about the matter at all, or only superstition. then, there are the jews. not one jew in ten thousand ceases to be a jew in religion; and nobody out of the jewish body ever gets to think as they do;--to hold their doctrines, and their traditions, and their superstitions. next, in order of time, come the christians. there are many bodies of christians, differing as much from one another as if they held faiths called by different names. there are the christians of the greek church, worshipping many gods under the name of saints;--some thinking it blasphemy not to adore the emperor of russia next to god, and some paying their first homage to the virgin with three hands. there are the christians of the romish church, who are shocked at the emperor of russia for not being one of them; and shocked at the protestants for not worshipping the bones and toe-nails of _their_ saints. and there are the protestant christians, who are shocked at the superstitions of the romish church on the one hand, and at the doctrines of every protestant sect but their own, on the other. then come the mohammedans, who think it exactly as impious in all christians not to receive mohammed, their prophet, whom they think a greater than christ, as the christians think it impious in the jews not to receive christ, whom they hold to be greater than moses. the children of all these multitudes, (except in an extremely rare case, here and there) receive what they are early told, as their parents received it before them; and no one supposes that any one of those vast multitudes would think and feel as he does on matters of religion if he were not early habituated to think and feel as he does. can we imagine any one of ourselves, concluding for ourselves, for instance, that the most solemn and sacred of human duties was to go through a set of prostrations and gestures, like those of the mohammedans, five times a day as long as we live, unless we were taught, from early infancy, to consider such acts to be in the highest degree virtuous? can we imagine ourselves thinking, as the mohammedans do, that every man who does not go through this set of gestures five times every day, is careless about goodness altogether,--is an infidel (which is the mohammedan name for a christian)--is wicked, and must be cast into hell? more persons in the world believe this than believe in the gods of the red indian, and the faith of the jews, and the doctrines of all bodies of christians put together. yet it is incredible that any man would so believe,--so undoubtingly, so solemnly, if he had not been habituated to such a belief from the very beginning. if the beliefs of the majority of mankind are thus dependant upon habit,--if their faith and their views of duty and happiness,--(the most important of all views) have this origin, how is it possible to overrate the importance of habit? if, turning away from the greek christians and the mohammedans, we contemplate in our imagination a large sect or nation who should have been habituated, from the first dawning of intelligence, to regard perfect goodness as the most sacred and solemn and beautiful thing that the human mind can conceive of,--as a thing the most interesting and important to every human being,--and a thing within the reach of every one of us, is it conceivable that such a people would not be the most virtuous ever seen on earth? let it not be said that children are so taught,--that such is the habit of their minds in our christian country: for alas! it is very much otherwise. they are occasionally told, indeed, that christ desired his followers to be perfect as their father in heaven is perfect; but this is not the aim steadily and cheerfully set before any child, as a hopeful enterprise,--as the best thing in the world, and as a thing which must be done. no child sees that this object is what his parents are living for, in comparative disregard of everything else; and that this is what he ought to live for, and is expected certainly to accomplish, according to his means. while he is told, and pretty often, that the best thing in the world is to be good, he is habituated, by what he sees and hears almost all day long, to believe that it is a hopeless thing to become perfectly good, and that everybody tries, in fact, for something else, with more zeal and expectation;--to get knowledge, to get reputation, to get employment and comfort,--to get all manner of pleasant things by their own desires and exertions, while they trust that some power will make them good, without that unremitting desire and exertion on their parts which alone can make them so. i have before me the remarks of a conscientious and affectionate father on the essential and unlimited power of habit in the rearing of children;--a truth which he had heard of all his life, but never fairly estimated till he had employed his energies on the education of his own family. i do not know who he is; but i see by the pamphlet before me[a] that he is earnest and intelligent, and qualified to speak from experience. earnest he must be, for it appears that it was his constant habit, during the infancy of his children, to rise in the night, to see that they were well, and sleeping peacefully: and he invariably went with them to school, and met them at the school door, to bring them home again,--more than a mile,--though he was a busy man,--obliged to work for their bread and his own. this earnest observer says "i now repeat the opinion that every child born, not insane or idiotic, might, to a moral certainty, be trained to be a gentle, a benevolent, and a pious adult. of the correctness of this opinion i have long ceased to have any doubt. holding this opinion to be positively correct, i next held that the universal belief of its correctness would soon lead to an amount of improvement in the several conditions of human existence that would exceed even my own sanguine expectations. the encouragement which this belief would give to parents would bring into active and affectionate exertion an amount of attention and devotion to the training of the infant feelings and propensities of their offspring, such as heretofore has never been exercised, or perhaps ever imagined. i would, therefore, spread this belief among all mankind, by every means in my power to employ, and with it my opinions of the kind of teaching, or rather training, by which such blessed results might be produced. to describe this kind of teaching, or training, is not at present in my power to do, to a due extent. i will but give one brief rule, namely, 'what you wish a child to be, be that to the child.' and i would impress upon the mind of the mother, the nurse, or other teacher, the importance of so training each desire or propensity as to bring it as early as possible into habitual obedience to the dictates of the religious and moral sentiments,--those sentiments being guided by the enlightened intellect of such mother, nurse, or teacher. these teachers should be aware of the fact that the mind of a child is continually acquiring habits of thought, as its limbs are habits of action, whether by the spontaneous and unguided efforts of its own mind and body, or by following the training of those having the care of it. they should be continually improving themselves in the art of so guiding the infant dispositions, and the exercises and actions of their charge as to form the disposition _as early as possible_; and this course of training would effectually preserve the child _from every approach to the formation of any other habits than those inculcated by the teacher_."--(remarks, &c., pp. , ). [a] "remarks on the advantages of early training and management of children." by a colonist. ollivier, , pall-mall. next to the beliefs established by early habit, come the propensities. under this head, nothing more can be necessary than to relate an anecdote which teaches much more eloquently than any thing i can say out of my own convictions. in north america, a tribe of indians attacked a white settlement, and murdered the few inhabitants. a woman of the tribe, however, carried away a very young infant, and reared it as her own. the child grew up with the indian children, different in complexion, but like them in every thing else. to scalp the greatest possible number of enemies was, in his view, the most glorious and happy thing in the world. while he was still a youth, he was seen by some white traders, and by them conducted back to civilised life. he showed great relish of his new way of life, and, especially, a strong desire of knowledge, and a sense of reverence which took the direction of religion; so that he desired to become a clergyman. he went through his college course with credit, and was ordained. he fulfilled his function well, and appeared happy and satisfied. after a few years, he went to serve a settlement somewhere near the seat of war, which was then going on between great britain and the united states; and before long, there was fighting not far off. i am not sure whether he was aware that there were indians in the field, (the british having some tribes of indians for allies,) but he went forth to see how matters were going;--went forth in his usual dress,--black coat, and neat white shirt and neckcloth. when he returned, he was met by a gentleman of his acquaintance, who was immediately struck by an extraordinary change in the expression of his face;--by the fire in his eye, and the flush on his cheek;--and also by his unusually shy and hurried manner. after asking news of the battle, the gentleman observed, "but you are wounded.--not wounded!--why, there is blood upon the bosom of your shirt." the young man crossed his hands firmly, though hurriedly upon his breast; and his friend, supposing that he wished to conceal a wound which ought to be looked to, pulled open his shirt and saw--what made the young man let his hands fall in despair. from between his shirt and his breast, the gentleman took out--a bloody scalp. "i could not help it," said this poor victim of early habit, in an agonised voice. he turned, and ran too swiftly to be overtaken; betook himself to the indians, and never more appeared among the whites. no one supposes that there was any hypocrisy in this man while he was a clergyman. no one doubts that he would have lived a contented life of piety, benevolence and study, if he had never come within sight or sound of war. when he did so, up rose his early habitual combative and destructive propensities, overthrowing in an instant all later formed convictions and regenerated feelings. by the extent of victory here, we may form some idea of the force of early habit, or be duly warned by the question whether we can form any idea of it. the first habit to be formed is,--as is self-evident,--that of obedience; for this is a necessary preliminary to the formation of all other habits. if mothers would but believe it, there is nothing in the world easier than to form a habit of implicit obedience in any child. every child,--dependant and imitative,--is obedient as a matter of course if nature is not early interfered with, and put out of her way. every one must see that good sense on the part of the mother is absolutely necessary,--to observe what the course of nature is, and to adapt her management to it. for instance,--there is no way in which infants are more frequently, or so early, taught disobedience as by being teased for kisses. the mother does so love her infant's kiss,--to see the little face put up when the loving desire is spoken,--that she can never have enough of it. but her sense, and her sympathy with her little one show her that it is not the same thing with the child. well as it loves caresses in due measure, it can easily be fretted by too many of them; and if the mother persists in requiring too many while the infant is eager after something else, she will first have to put up with a hasty and reluctant kiss, and will next have to witness the struggles of the child to avoid it altogether. if too young to slip from her arms, he will hide his face:--if he can walk, he will run away, and not come back when she calls. she has made him disobedient by asking of him more than he is yet able to give. if the training begins by pleasantly bidding him do what it is easy and pleasant to him to do, he will do it, as a matter of course. when it is to him a matter of course to do as he is bid, he will prove capable of doing some things that he does not like,--if desired in the usual cheerful and affectionate tone. he will go to his tub in the cold morning, and take physic, and be quiet when he wants to romp;--all great efforts to him. and he will get on, and become capable of greater and greater efforts, if his faculties of opposition and pride be not roused by any imprudence, and if his understanding be treated with due respect by the appeals to his obedience being such only as are moderate and reasonable. he must be left as free as reason and convenience allow, that his will may not be too often crossed, and his temper needlessly fretted. what he is not to have, but would certainly wish for, must be put out of his sight, if possible. if there are any places where he must not go, he should see it to be impossible to get into them:--for instance, it is better that the fire should be well guarded than the child forbidden to go upon the rug;--and in either case, his gay playthings should not stand on the mantel-piece, tempting him to climb for them.--and so on,--through the round of his day. let his little duties and obligations be made easy to him by sense and sympathy on the part of his parents; and then let them see that the duty is done,--the obligation fulfilled. all this is easy enough; and certainly, from all that i have ever been able to observe, i am convinced that success,--perfect success in forming a habit of obedience is always possible. where a whole household acts in the same good spirit towards the little creature who has to be trained,--where no one spoils him and no one teases him,--he will obey the bidding of the voice of gentle authority in all he does, as simply as he obeys the bidding of nature when he eats and sleeps. so much for this preliminary habit, which is essential to the formation of all others that the parents wish to guide and establish. i will now speak briefly of the personal and family habits which are the manifestation of those conditions of mind of which i have treated in my preceding chapters. chapter xxiv. care of the habits.--personal habits. it requires some little consideration to feel sufficiently that it is as necessary to be explicit and earnest about the personal habits of children as about their principles, temper, and intellectual state. our personal habits have become so completely a second nature to us, that it requires some effort to be aware how far otherwise it is with the young,--how they have every thing to learn; and what a serious thing it is to everybody at some time of his life to learn to wash his own face and button his own jacket. the conviction comes across one very powerfully in great houses, where little lords and ladies are seen to need teaching in the commonest particulars of manners and habits, as much as any young creatures about a cottage door. every one knows this as a matter of fact; but still, there is something odd in seeing children in velvet tunics and lace frocks, and silk stockings and satin shoes, holding up their little noses,--or _not_ holding them up--to the maternal pocket-handkerchief; or dropping fruit-stones and raisin-stalks into papa's coat-collar, by climbing up behind his chair. to see this natural rudeness in those to whom consummate elegance is hereafter to appear no less natural, makes one thoughtful for the sake of such as are to remain comparatively rude through life; and also because it reminds one that there is nothing in regard to all personal habits, that children have not to learn. it is so very serious a matter to them,--the attainment of good personal habits,--that they ought to be aided to the utmost by parental consideration. this consideration is shown first in the actual help given to the child by its mother's hands; and afterwards by making all the arrangements of the household as favourable as possible to good habits in each individual. the tender mother makes the times of washing and dressing gay and pleasant to her little infant by the play and caresses which she loves to lavish even more than the child delights to receive. she can hardly overvalue the influence of these seasons on the child's future personal habits. hurry, rough handling, silence, or fretfulness may make the child hate the idea of washing and dressing, for long years afterwards; while the associations of a season of play and lovingness may help on the little creature a long way in the great work of taking care of its own person. when the time comes,--the proud time,--when it may stand by itself to wash, the pride and novelty help it on; and it is rather offended if help interferes, to prevent its being exposed too long to the cold. all this is very well; but there comes a time afterwards when the irksomeness of washing and dressing, and cleaning teeth, and brushing hair, becomes a positive affliction to some children, such as no parents that i have known seem to have any idea of. we grown people can scarcely remember the time when these operations were not to us so purely mechanical as that our minds are entertained by ideas all the time, as much as if we were about any other business. but children are not so dexterous, in the first place; in the next, all labour of which they know the extent is very oppressive to them: and again, any incessant repetition of what they in any degree dislike is really afflictive to them. we must remember these things, or we shall not understand the feebleness of will which makes a boy neglect some part of his morning washing, and a girl the due hair-brushing in the evening, though both are aware that they suffer more in conscience as it is, than they could from the trouble, if they could rouse themselves to do the business properly. i have known one child sick of life because she must, in any circumstances, clean her teeth every day;--every day for perhaps seventy years. i have known of a little boy in white frocks who sat mournfully alone, one autumn day, laying the gay fallen vine-leaves in a circle, and thinking how tired he was of life,--how dreadfully long it was, and full of care. its machinery overpowered him. i knew a girl, old enough to be reproached for the badness of her handwriting,--(and she was injudiciously reproached, without being helped to mend it)--who suffered intensely from this, and even more from another grief;--she had hair which required a good deal of care, and she was too indolent to keep it properly. these were the two miseries of her life; and they did make her life miserable. she did not think she could mend her handwriting; but she knew that she might have beautiful hair by brushing it for ten minutes longer every night: yet she could not do it. at last, she prayed fervently for the removal of these two griefs,--though she knew the fable of the waggoner and hercules. now,--in cases like these, help is wanted. remonstrance, disgrace, will not do, in many cases where a little sympathy and management will. cannot these times be made cheerful, and the habit of painful irresolution broken, by putting the sinner into the company of some older member of the family, or by employing the thoughts in some pleasant way while the mechanical process is going on?--i mean only while the difficulty lasts. when habits of personal cleanliness have become fixed and mechanical, it is most desirable (where it can by any means be managed) for each child to be alone,--not only for the sake of decency, but for the benefit of the solitude and silence, morning and night, which are morally advantageous for everybody old enough to meditate. i fear it is still necessary to teach and preach that nobody has a right to health who does not wash all over every day. this is done with infants; and the practice should never be discontinued. every child of a family should look upon this daily complete washing in cold water as a thing as completely of course as getting its breakfast. there was a time, within my remembrance, when even respectable people thought it enough to wash their feet once a week; and their whole bodies when they went to the coast for sea-bathing in august. in regard to popular knowledge of the laws of health, our world _has_ got on: and, after the expositions, widely published, of those who enable us to understand the laws of health, we may hope that washing from head to foot is so regular an affair with all decent people as to leave no doubt or irresolution in children's minds about how much they shall wash, any day of the year.--as for the care of the teeth,--parents ought to know that, in the opinion of dentists, all decay of the teeth proceeds from the bone of which the teeth are composed not being kept purely clean and bright. this happens oftenest when teeth overlap, or grow so that every part cannot be reached. much of this may be remedied, if not all of it, by early application to a dentist. but parents to whom this precaution is impossible can do much to save their children from future misery from toothache, and indigestion through loss of teeth, by seeing that the tooth-scrubbing is properly performed. this is more important than the polishing of knives and brass knockers.--as for the brushing of a girl's long hair, it really is a very irksome business till it becomes mechanical; and a mother may consider a little effort at amusement well bestowed till the habit of doing it properly is securely formed, and the mind is rich enough to entertain itself the while. readers begin to yawn or skip when they meet, in any book, with praises of early rising. yet how can i pass over this particular of personal habits, when i think it of eminent importance?--i believe it is rare to see such early rising as i happen to think desirable. i believe it is rare to see families fairly at their daily work by eight o'clock,--after having had out-door exercise and breakfast; and this, every morning in the year. the variety of objects presented for the observation and enjoyment of children (and of everybody else) in the early morning hours, far surpasses that which can be seen at any other time of day. even town-bred children can see more pure sky, and quieter streets, and the country seems to have come nearer. and in the country, there are more animals abroad,--more squirrels, more field mice, more birds, than at noon or in the evening. the rooks fly higher in the dawn than at any other time; the magpies are bolder and droller; the singing birds in the thickets beyond measure more gleeful; and one need not tell that this is the hour for the lark. all except very young children can keep themselves warm in the mid-winter mornings, and will enjoy the delight of being out under the stars, and watching the last fragment of the moon, hanging over the eastern horizon, clear and bright in the breaking dawn. when these children come in, warm, rosy, and hungry, at seven o'clock, or half-past, and sit down to their breakfast, they seem hardly of the same order of creatures with such as come sauntering down from their chambers, when their parents have half done their meal;--sauntering because they are tired with dressing, or have had bad dreams, and have not recovered their spirits. and what a difference it makes in the houses of rich and poor whether the breakfast things are standing about till nearly ten o'clock, or whether the family have by that time been at work for nearly two of the brightest, and freshest, and quietest, hours of the day! in every industrious household there should be a bell. this is an admonition which tries no tempers, and gives no personal offence. if the father himself rings the family up in the mornings, it is a fine thing for everybody. if he cannot,--if he is too weary with his day's work for early rising, or if the mother is disturbed with her baby in the night,--if neither parent can be early in the morning, then let it not be insisted on that the children shall be so. it is a less evil that they should forego all the advantages of early rising than that any contest on the subject should take place between them and their parents. i have seen cases where the parents could not, or did not, appear till nine o'clock or later, but yet made it a point of conscience with the children to be early;--with the most disastrous effect. the children were conscientious, and they did try. when they now and then succeeded, they were satisfied and triumphant, and thought they should never fail again. but the indolence of the growing season of life was upon them: and there was the languor of waiting for breakfast. in the summer mornings, they were chilly and languid over their books; and in the winter, the fire made them sleepy. they grew later and later; they were rebuked, remonstrated with,--even warned against following the example of their parents: but they sank deeper into indolence. at last, the suffering of conscience became so great that it was thrown off by a most audacious effort. i happened to be a witness to the incident; and i have never lost the impression of it. the two girls were only half-dressed at half-past eight. they heard their mother's door open, and looked at each other. she came (herself only half-dressed) to say that she had been defied long enough, and she _would_ be obeyed. she slapped them heartily. as she shut the door, the younger sister, all horror and dismay, stole a look at the elder. the elder laughed; and the younger was evidently delighted to join. i saw, on the instant, that it was all over with the mother's authority. the spirit of defiance had risen, and burst the bonds of conscience. late rising,--the very latest,--curse as it is,--is better than this. what a struggle is saved in such cases--what a cost of energy, and health, and conscience, by a complete establishment of good habits, through the example of the parents! if the father be but happy enough to be able to take out his little troop into the fields, or merely for a stretch along the high road, in the freshness of the morning, what a gain there is on every hand! he has the best of their affections, if he can make himself their companion at this most cheery hour of the day; and they will owe to him a habit which not only enhances the enjoyment of life, but positively lengthens its duration. then, after their walk of a mile or two, they find mother and breakfast awaiting them at home,--the house in order and already aired; and everything ready for business when the morning meal is done. they are in the heart of their work, whatever it be, when their neighbours are opening their chamber doors. in london, i am aware, one meets with the plea, in every case, that early rising is impossible, on account of the lateness of the hours of everybody else. i only know that when i lived in lodgings in london, i used to boil my coffee on the table at seven o'clock,--giving no trouble to servants,--and that i used to think it pleasant to have my pen in hand at half-past seven,--the windows open to the fresh watered streets, and shaded with summer blinds, and the flower-girls stationing themselves below,--their gay baskets of roses still wet with dew. i think london streets pleasanter in the dawn than at any other time. in country towns, i know that families can and do keep early hours, without any real difficulty: and in the country, everybody can do as he pleases. i need not say that growing children must have their breakfast before they feel any exhaustion for want of it. i do not understand the old-fashioned method of early rising;--working hard for three or four hours before eating anything at all. if adults can bear this, it is certain that children cannot. i may mention here that a prime means of health for persons of all ages is to drink abundance of cold water on rising, and during the vigorous exercise of the early morning. this morning regimen, if universally adopted, would save the doctors of our island half their work. there is no part of the personal habits of children more important than that which relates to their eating. we must remember how vivid the pleasures of the senses are to children,--how strong their desire of every kind of gratification,--and how small their store, as yet, of those intellectual and moral resources which make grown people careless of the pleasures of sense. if we look back to our own childhood, and remember our intense pleasure in looking at brilliant colours, and at hearing sweet sounds, unconnected with words and ideas,--such as the chords of an eolian harp,--and the thrill of pleasure we had at the sight of a favourite dish upon the table, we shall be aware that, however ridiculous such emotions appear to us now, they are realities which must be taken into account in dealing with children.--the object is so to feed children as to give them the greatest amount of relish which consists with their health of body and mind. if their appetites are not considered enough, they will suffer in body; if too much, they will suffer infinitely more in mind. i have seen both extremes; and i must say, i think the consequences so important as to deserve more consideration than the subject usually meets with. in one large family which i had for some time the opportunity of observing, there was a pretty strict discipline kept up throughout, with excellent effect on the whole; but in some respects it was carried too far. some of the children were delicate, particularly in stomach; and the intention of the parents was that this should be got over, as better for the children than yielding to it. three or four of the children throve well on the basin of bread and milk, which was the breakfast of them all: but there was one little girl who never could digest milk well; and the suffering of that child was evident enough. she did not particularly dislike milk; and she never asked for any thing else. that would have been, in her eyes, a piece of shocking audacity. she had a great reverence for rules; and she seemed never to dream of any rule being set aside for her sake, however hardly it might bear upon her. so she went on for years having the feeling of a heavy lump in her throat for the whole of every morning,--sometimes choking with it, and sometimes stealing out into the yard to vomit; and, worse than the lump in the throat, she had depression of spirits for the first half of every day, which much injured the action of her mind at her lessons, and was too much for her temper. she and her friends were astonished at the difference in her when she went, at, i think, twelve years old, to stay for a month in a house where she had tea-breakfasts. she did, to be sure, cast very greedy looks at her cup of tea when it was coming; and she did make rather a voracious breakfast; but this was wearing off before the end of the month. she went home to her milk-breakfasts, her lump in the throat, and her morning depression of spirits and irritability. but at last the time came when she was tall enough to have tea with the older ones; and in a little while, she showed no signs of greediness, and thought no more about her breakfast than any body else. i remember another case, where a similar mistake appeared more broadly still in its bad effects. in a family where it was the custom to have a great rice-pudding every saturday, and sometimes also on the other baking day,--wednesday,--there was a little fellow who hated rice. this was inconvenient. his mother neither liked to see him go without half his dinner, nor to provide a dish for him; for the child was disposed to be rather greedy, and troublesome with fancies about his eating. but in the case of the rice, the disgust was real, and so strong that it would have been better to let it alone. his mother, however, saw that it would be a benefit to him if he could get over it: and she took advantage of a strong desire he had for a book, to help him over his difficulty. the little fellow saw at a shop-window a copy of the seven champions of christendom, with a gay picture of the dragon and st. george: and his longing for this little book was of that raging sort which i suppose only children ever feel. he was to have this book if he would eat rice-pudding. he eagerly promised; feeling at the moment, i dare say, when there was no rice within sight, as if he could live upon it all his days, to get what he wanted. when saturday came, i watched him. i saw how his gorge rose at the sight of the pudding: but he fixed his eyes upon the opposite wall, gulped down large spoonfuls, wiped his mouth with disgust, and sighed when he had done, demanded his fee, ran for the book, and alas! had finished it, and got almost tired of it, before bedtime. the worst of it was,--he never again tasted rice. here was the moral injury. he was perfectly aware that his bargain was to eat rice-pudding whenever it was upon table; and he meant to do it. but it required more fortitude than he could command when the desire for the book was gratified and gone: and his honour and conscience were hurt. another bad consequence of this mistake about two or three of his dislikes was that he thought too much about eating and drinking; was dainty in picking his meat, and selfish about asking for the last bit, or the last but one, of any thing good. of course, i do not speak in censure, when i give such anecdotes. i blame nobody where nobody meant any harm. on the one side there was a mistake; and it was followed by its inevitable consequences on the other. in such a case, where there is a large family, with a plain common table, i should think the best way is for a child in ordinary health to take his chance. if there is enough of meat, potatoes, and bread to make a meal of, he may very well go without pudding, and should, on no account, have one provided expressly for himself: but he should be allowed to refuse it without remark. where the mother can, without expense and too much inconvenience, consider the likings and dislikes of her children in a silent way, her kindness will induce her to do it: but it must be in a quiet way, or she will lead them to think too much about the thing; and to suppose that she thinks it an important matter. this affair of the table is one worth a good deal of attention, as it regards the temper and manners of the household, and the personal habits of each. there is no reason why the father's likings as to food should not be seen to be cared for. if he is a selfish eater, he will ensure that the matter is duly attended to. if he is above such care for himself,--if it is clear that his pleasure at his meals is in having his family about him,--that is a case in which the mother need not conceal her desire to provide what is liked best. the father, who never asks or thinks about what is for dinner, is most likely to be the one to find before him what he particularly relishes; a dish cooked, perhaps, by his wife's or his little daughter's hands. and, again, if the little daughters see that their mother never thinks about her own likings, perhaps they will put in a word on market-day, or at such times, to remind her that somebody cares for her tastes. then, again, in middle-class families, where the servants dine after the family, they should always be openly considered. after the pudding has been helped round once, and some quick eaters are ready for a second plateful, it must be an understood thing that enough is to be left for the servants.--on the ground of the danger of causing too much thought about eating and drinking, it is desirable that, where the family take their meals together, all should fare alike. if there is anything at table which the younger children ought not to have, it is better that they should, if possible, dine by themselves. this is the plan in great houses, where the little ones dine at one o'clock, eating freely and without controversy of what is on the table, because there is nothing there that can hurt them. if the family dine together, and there are two or more dishes of meat on the table at the same time, all must learn the good manners of dividing their choice, so that the father may not have to send a helping of goose to everybody, while none is left for himself, but that the mother's boiled mutton may have left half the goose for the choice of the parents. all this is clear enough: but, if a present arrives of anything nice,--oysters, or salmon, or oranges, or such good things as relations and friends often send to each other, it seems best for all the household to enjoy the treat together, who are old enough to relish it. it can scarcely be necessary to mention that the earliest time is the best for training children to proper behaviour at table, as every where else. every one of them has to be trained; for how are the little things to know, unless they are taught, that they are not to put their fingers in their plates, or to drain their mugs, or to make shapes with their potato, or to crumble their bread, or to kick their chairs, or to run away to the window before dinner is done? they will require but little teaching, if they see everybody about them sitting and eating properly; but it is hard upon children when they have been allowed to take liberties and be rude at the nursery dinner, and then have everything to learn, under painful constraint, as they are growing up. i have been sometimes struck with the conviction that the bad manners i have seen at the school-room table arise from a misconception as to what dinner is. in one house, you see the busy father hurry from his work to table, hardly stopping to wash his hands, turning over to his wife the task of helping the children, or even pushing round the dish for them to help themselves,--throwing his dinner down his throat, and after it his solitary pint of porter; snatching his hat, and off again to business, almost without saying "good bye" to any one. when he is gone, the others think they have liberty to do as they please; and a pretty scene of confusion there is,--one child scraping a dish, another kneeling on a chair to reach over for something, a third at the window: and the mother with baby on her arm, coming at last to carry off the dishes, saying that she is sure dinner has been about quite long enough, while some of the children are perhaps really wanting more.--again: one sees in a rich gentleman's family, ill-managed, a great mistake as to dinner. the bell is rung at the nominal dinner-hour,--or probably a good deal after it: for servants can hardly be punctual under such management. the soup is on the table, and one or two of the family are in their seats, waiting for the rest. one young lady has her fancy-work in her hand: another has the newspaper. papa comes in for luncheon. he will have a plate of soup. the reader jumps up to help him; but the soup is cold. as nobody seems to wish for any cold soup, it is sent away; but turned back at the door by a hungry boy, who has only just learned that dinner is ready, and is ravenous for the first thing he can get to eat. while the joint is helped, one drops in from the stable,--another from the music-lesson; a third from botanising in the wood; and the first comers run away to look for something in the library, or to have a turn on the gravel walk, saying that they do not care for pudding, and will come back for cheese. altogether, it is an hour and a half before the cloth is removed, and the weary governess can get her charge in order for the italian master,--if indeed he be not come and gone in the interval. this is an extreme, but not an impossible case: and in such a case, the plea we shall hear is that it is a waste of time for a whole family to sit doing nothing but eating their dinners in the middle of the day: and that formality makes eating of too much importance. such is the plea; and here lies the mistake. the object of dinner is not only eating but sociable rest. the dinner hour is a seasonable pause amidst the hurry of the busy day; and the harder people have to work, the completer should be the pause of the dinner hour. the arrangement is very important to health; for the largest meal of the day is best digested when it is eaten with regularity, at leisure, and in a cheerful mood of mind; and when a space of cheerful leisure is left after it. and more important still is the arrangement to the manners and tempers and dispositions of the family. it is a great thing that every member of a household should be habituated to meet the rest in the middle of the day, neatly dressed and refreshed;--the boys' coats brushed, and the girls' frocks changed or set straight; the hair smoothed, and face and hands just washed. it is a great thing that they should take their chief nourishment of the day in the midst of the most cheerful conversation, and at a time so set apart as that nobody is hankering after doing anything else. when we consider too that after dinner is the only time between sunday and sunday that the working father has for play with his infants,--who are in their beds, or too sleepy for fun, when he comes home in the evening,--we shall own that there is no waste of time in the dinner hour, even if nothing whatever is done but eating and talking. in fact, it is this time which, from its importance, ought to be saved from all encroachment. the washed faces, and the cloth on the table, and the hot dinner should all be in readiness when the father appears. not a minute of his precious hour should be lost or spoiled by any one's unpunctuality, or any body's ill-manners. all should go smoothly at his table by every one's gentleness and cheerfulness and good-breeding. when the meal is finished, all the clearing away should be quickly and quietly done, that he may have yet a clear half-hour for rest, or for play with the little ones. where this hour is managed as it ought to be,--(and nothing is easier under the care of a sensible mother) the busy father goes forth to his work again with his mind even more refreshed by his hour of cheerful rest than his body is strengthened by food. on the remaining topic of personal habits,--modesty,--decency--it cannot be necessary to say much. the points of mistake which strike me the most are two:--i think that in almost every part of the world, people herd too much and too continually together:--and i think that few people are aware how early it is right to respect the modesty of an infant. as to the first point;--it is one of the heaviest misfortunes of our country,--i speak advisedly,--that among whole classes of our people, poverty or want of space from other causes, compels them to herd together in crowds, night and day. no words are needed to show how little hope of health there can be when people live in this way; and even less hope of good morals. among classes more favoured than these, it appears that there is little thought of making the provision that might easily be made for more privacy than people are yet accustomed to. i fear it is the wish that is wanting: for "where there's a will there's a way;" and i have been in many houses, both at home and abroad, where the requisite privacy might have been had, if any wish for it had existed. in the factory villages in the united states, i was painfully struck by this. i saw good and pretty houses built from the savings of the factory girls,--with their shady green blinds, and their charming piazzas without; and places within for book-shelves, piano and pictures and work-tables; but not a corner of any house was there where any young woman of the household could sit by herself for ten minutes in a day, or say her prayers, or wash. the beds were ranged in dormitories; or four or six in a room: and there were not even washing-closets. here, there was no excuse of inability; and at home i too often see the same thing, where there is no sufficient excuse of inability. where each child cannot possibly have a room, or the use of a dressing-closet to itself, arrangements may easily be made, by having folding screens, to secure absolute privacy to every member of a household, for purposes of the mind, as well as the body. when i see how indispensable it is to the anxious and hard-worked governess to have a room to herself, and how earnestly she (very properly) insists upon it, i am always sorry when i remember how many have to go without this comfort,--which should be considered a necessity of life. when i think of the school-boy, with his burden of school cares upon him, and the young girl, thoughtful, anxious and irritable, as most people are, at times, in entering upon the realities of life; and of the wearied servant maid, and of the child in the first fervours of his self-kindling piety, i pity them if they have no place which they can call their own, for ever so short a time in the day, where they can be free from the consciousness of eyes being upon them. the thing _may_ be done. mrs. taylor of ongar, the wife of a dissenting minister, and mother of a large family, who from an early age worked for their bread,--did contrive, by giving her mind to it, to manage separate sleeping places for a wonderful number of her children; and, where this could not possibly be accomplished for all, she so arranged closets and hours as that every one could have his or her season of retirement, secure from disturbance. as for the case of the infant, to which i alluded above,--i believe it to be this. the natural modesty of every human being may be left to take care of itself; if only we are careful that it is really left entirely free. it is the simplest matter in the world for the mother to give this modesty its earliest direction during the first weeks, months, and year or two of life. after that, it will not fail, if only it be duly respected. that this respect should begin very early is desirable, not because the innocent little creature has then any consciousness which can be injured by anything it sees or is allowed to do; but because as it grows up, it should be unable ever to remember the time when every thing was not arranged with the same modesty and decorum as at a later period. again, in order to the preservation of true modesty, the smallest possible amount of thought should be bestowed upon it. all transactions, personal and domestic, should go on with the smoothness of perfect regularity, propriety, and consequent freedom of mind and ease of manners. and it conduces much to this that there should never have been a time when the child was conscious of any particular change in its management. it should never have seen much of any body's personal cares; and the more gradually it slides into the care of its own person, with its accompanying privacy, the better is the chance that it will not dwell on such matters at all, but have its mind free for other subjects, wearing its modesty as unconsciously as it carries the expression of the eye, or utters the tones of its voice. chapter xxv. care of the habits.--family habits. it is difficult to keep a distinction between personal and family habits. in our last chapter, on personal habits, we got to the family dinner table; and here, in speaking of family habits, we shall doubtless fall in with the characteristics of individuals. first; as to occupations. unless i knew for what class of readers i was writing this, it is difficult to assume what their occupations may be. in one class, the father may be busy in his office; and the mother in ordering a large household, taking care of the poor in her neighbourhood, and in study or keeping up her accomplishments; while the boys are with their tutor, and the girls with their governess, and the infants in the nursery.--in another, the mother may be instructing her girls, while busy at her needle; and the boys may be at a day-school, and the father in his warehouse or shop.--and again, this may be read by parents who cannot spare their children from home, because they keep no servants, and who charge themselves with teaching their young people, in such hours as can be spared from the actual business of living. one thing, however, is common to all these; and it is enough to proceed upon. all these _are_ occupied. they have all business to do which ought to engage their faculties, regularly and diligently: so that the great principles and rules of family morals cannot fail to apply. the first great point concerns them all equally:--economy of time. nobody yet ever had too much time; and the rich need all they can save of it as much as the poorest. and the methods by which time is to be made the most of are universally the same. this seems to be everywhere felt, except among the ignorant. the most remarkable care, as to punctuality, is actually found, in our country, among the highest classes. it has bean said that "punctuality is the politeness of the great:" and so it is. it shows their consideration for other people's time and convenience: but there is more in it than that. the queen, who is extraordinarily punctual, and statesmen, and landed-proprietors, and all who bear a burden of very important duty, are more sensible than those who have less responsibility of the mischief of wasting minutes which are all wanted for business; and yet more, of the waste of energy and freedom of thought, and of composure and serenity which are caused by failures in punctuality. for my own part, i acknowledge that not only is any compulsory loss of time the trial, of all little trials, that i most dislike, but that nothing whatever so chafes my temper as failure in punctuality in those with whom i have transactions. and to me, one of the charms of intercourse with enlightened and high-bred people is their reliableness in regard to all engagements, and their exact economy of time. to go from a disorderly household where no one seems to have any time, and where one has to try hard all day long to keep one's temper, to a great man's house, where half a hundred people move about their business as if they were one; where all is quiet and freedom and leisure, as if the business of life went on of itself, leaving minds at liberty for other work, is one of the most striking contrasts i have met with in society. and i have seen the same order and punctuality prevail, with much the same effect, in very humble households, where, instead of a score or two of servants, there were a few well-trained children to do the work. it is a thing which does not depend on wealth, but on intelligence. there is, (here and there, but not often) a great house to be seen where you cannot get anything you want till you have rung half-a-dozen times, and waited half an hour; where you are pretty sure to leave some of your luggage behind you, or be too late for the train, without any fault of your own; and where the meals, notwithstanding all the good cookery, are comfortless, from the restlessness and uncertainty of family and guests, and the natural discouragement of the servants. and there are houses of four rooms, where all goes smoothly from the politeness which arises from intelligence and affectionate consideration. when a new administration came into office, some years ago, the ministers agreed that not one of them should ever be waited for, on any occasion of meeting. at the first cabinet dinner, the party went to table as the clock finished striking, though the prime minister had not arrived. the prime minister was only half a minute late; but he apologised, as for an offence against good manners. what would be thought of this in homes where the young people come dropping down to breakfast when their parents have half done, or where father or mother keeps the children fretting and worrying because they are waiting for breakfast when they ought to be about their morning business! it may be said that the fretting and worrying are the greater offence of the two: and this is very true. so much the worse for the unpunctuality which causes a greater sin than itself. why be subject to either? if a young person, no longer manageable as a child, continues, after all reasonable methods have been tried, to annoy his family by a habit of wasting his own time and theirs, there is no use in losing temper about it. scolding and fretfulness will not bring him round, if other methods have failed. he must be borne with (though by no means indulged) and pitied as the slave of a bad habit. but how much better to avoid any such necessity! and it might always be avoided. the way in which people usually fall into unpunctual habits is, i think, from interest in what they are about, whether it be dreaming in bed, or enjoying a walk, or translating a difficult passage, or finishing a button-hole in a shirt, or writing a postscript to a letter. in households where punctuality is really a principle, it should be a truth ever before all eyes that whatever each individual is about is of less importance than respect to the whole family. in a school, when the bell rings, one girl leaves off in the middle of a bar of music, another at the middle line of a repetition, and a third when she is within two figures of the end of her sum. the time and temper of mistress and companions must be respected first, and these things finished afterwards. and so it is in a well ordered household. the parents sacrifice their immediate interest in what they are about; and so must the children. and so they will, and with ease, when the thing is made an invariable habit, from the earliest time they can remember. it is this punctuality, this undeviating regularity which is the greatest advantage that school has over home education, in regard to study. in a large family, where there is much business of living and few servants, it really is very difficult to secure quiet and regularity for the children's lessons. it seems at any one moment, of less importance that the sum should be done, and the verb conjugated, just for that once, than that the boy should run an errand, or the girl hold the baby. now this will never do: and the small progress in learning usually made by the home-taught shows that it does not answer. the consideration is not of the particular sum, or practice in saying the verb, but of the habit of the children's minds. it _is_ of consequence in itself that sums should be done and verbs learned in their proper season, because they cannot be so easily mastered afterwards; and there is plenty to be done afterwards; but much more important is it that the children should acquire that punctuality of faculties which grows out of punctuality of habits: and this can never be when there is any uncertainty or insecurity about the inviolability of their lesson-time. i know how difficult it is to manage this point, and how very hard it is for the mother to resist each day's temptation, if she has not fortified herself by system and arrangement, and by keeping constantly before her mind that nothing that her children can do by being called off from their books can be so important as what they sacrifice at every interruption. if it is possible for her to find any corner of the house where they may be undisturbed, and any hour of the day when she will allow no person whatever to call off her attention from them, she may do them something like justice: but she never can, though the books and slates may be about all the morning, if she admits any neighbour, or allows any interruption whatever. if possible, she will fix upon an hour when she may settle down with her plain-sewing, which requires no attention; and when her neighbours all know that they will not be admitted. one single hour, diligently employed, may effect a great deal. and it need not be all that the children give to study, though it be all that she can spare. they may learn at some other time in the day the lessons which she is to hear during the hour: and in that case, she must see that they are protected in their time of learning, as well as of repeating their lessons. whether they are in their own rooms, or in the common sitting room, or she can spare any place for a school room, she must see that they have their minds to themselves, to do their business properly. if the father relieves her of the teaching, and hears the lessons at night, she will see more reason than ever for doing all she can to facilitate their being well learned. if the time for lessons be necessarily but one hour in the day, let not the parents be uneasy, however much they might wish that their children should have their six hours of study, like those of richer people. perhaps they can give both boys and girls educational advantages which those of the rich have not;--advantages which offer themselves in the natural course of humble life. i have witnessed a process of education for boys in a middle-class home which could not well be instituted in a great house, and among a multitude of servants, but which was of extraordinary benefit to the lads who were made happy by it. their father gave into their charge some of the departments of the comforts of the house. one had charge of the gas-pipes and lamps. he was responsible for their good condition; and he was paid the same sum per annum that supervision by a workman would have cost. another had charge of the locks and keys, the door-handles, sash-lines and window-bolts, bells and bell-wires: and he was paid in the same manner. each had his workbench and tools in a convenient place; and, if every part of his province was always in order, so that there were no expensive repairs, he had some money left over,--which was usually spent in buying materials for mechanical handiworks. these lads were happier than poor louis xvi. of france, who was so fond of making locks that he had a complete locksmith's workshop fitted up in a retired part of his palace: and delighted to spend there every hour that he could command. _he_ was obliged to conceal his pursuit, both from the absurdity and the uselessness of it in his position; while these lads had at once the gratification of their faculties, and the dignity of usefulness. there are many offices about every house which may well be confided to boys, if they are intelligent and trustworthy;--that is, well educated up to the point required; and the filling of such offices faithfully is in itself as good a process of education as need be wished. there is no need to declare the same thing about girls; for i suppose nobody questions it. i go further than most persons, i believe, however, in desiring thorough practice in domestic occupations, from an early age, for girls. i do not see why the natural desire and the natural faculty for housewifery which i think i see in every girl i meet, should be baffled because her parents are rich enough to have servants to do and to superintend everything about the house. if there was a king who could not help being a locksmith, i know of a countess who could not help being a sempstress. she made piles of plain linen, just for the pleasure of the work, and gave them away to her friends. now, it is a very serious thing to baffle natural desires and abilities so strong as these, on account of mere external fortunes. if a girl of any rank has the economic faculties strong, it is hard upon her that they may not find their natural exercise in a direction,--that of household care,--which is appropriate to every woman, be she who she may; and if these faculties are less strong than they are usually found to be in girls, there is the more reason that they should be well exercised, as far as they will go. i am sure that some,--perhaps most,--girls have a keener relish of household drudgery than of almost any pleasure that could be offered them. they positively like making beds, making fires, laying the cloth and washing up crockery, baking bread, preserving fruit, clear-starching and ironing. and why in the world should they not do it? why should not the little lady have her little ironing box, and undertake the ironing of the pocket-handkerchiefs? i used to do this; and i am sure it gave me a great deal of pleasure, and did me nothing but good.--on washing and ironing days, in houses of the middle class, where all the servants are wanted in the wash-house or laundry, why should not the children do the service of the day? it will be a treat to them to lay the breakfast cloth, and bring up the butter from the cellar, and toast the bread; and, when breakfast is over, to put everything in its place again, and wash the china, and rub and polish the trays. they may do the same again at dinner; and while the servants are at meals, they may carry on the ironing in the laundry. and afterwards, there comes that capital exercise of sense and patience and skill,--the stocking-darning, which, done properly, is a much higher exercise than many people suppose. and when visitors come, why should not the girls have the chief pleasure which "company" gives to them,--the making the custard and the tarts, dishing up the fruit, and bringing out the best table linen? and what little girl is there in a market town who does not like going to market with her father or her mother, till she can be trusted to go by herself? does she not like seeing the butcher's cleverness in cutting off what is wanted; and trying to guess the weight of joints by the look; and admiring the fresh butter, and the array of fowls, and the heaps of eggs, and the piles of vegetables and fruit? i believe it is no small treat to a girl to jump up early on the market-day morning, and reckon on the sight she is going to see. the anxiety may be great when she begins to be the family purchaser: but it is a proud office too; and when the first shyness is over, there is much variety and pleasantness in it. by all means, as i have said, let the girls' economic faculties take the household direction, if they point that way, whatever be their fortunes and expectations. it can never do any woman harm to know, in the only perfect way, by experience, how domestic affairs should be managed. but, when the thing is done at all, let it be well done. let the girl be really taught, and not suffered to blunder her way through, in a manner which could not be allowed in regard to anything taught as a lesson. one reason why girls know so much less than they should do, and so much less than they wish to do about household affairs, is that justice is not done them by proper teaching. the daughters of the opulent are at school, and have no opportunity of learning till they are too old to begin properly: but the case of middle and lower class girls is hardly better. when the mother is hurried, it is easier to do a thing herself than to teach, or wait for, an inexperienced hand: but a girl will never learn, if her enterprise is taken out of her hand at the critical moment. nothing is more easily learned, or more sure to be remembered than the household processes that come under the hands of women: but then, they must be first clearly understood and carried through. here then, the mother must have a little patience. she must bear to see a batch of bread or pastry spoiled, or muslins ironed wrong side out, or a custard "broke," or a loin of mutton mistaken for the neck, a few times over, and much awkwardness and slowness shown, before her little daughters become trusty handmaids. but, if she be a true mother, she will smile at this; and the father will not be put out if the pie is burned on one side, or the bread baked too quick, if he is told that this is a first trial by a new hand. he will say what he can that is encouraging, and hope for a perfect pie or loaf next time. i believe it is now generally agreed, among those who know best, that the practice of sewing has been carried much too far for health, even in houses where there is no poverty or pressure of any kind. no one can well be more fond of sewing than i am; and few, except professional sempstresses, have done more of it: and my testimony is that it is a most hurtful occupation, except where great moderation is observed. i think it is not so much the sitting and stooping posture as the incessant monotonous action and position of the arms, that causes such wear and tear. whatever it may be, there is something in prolonged sewing which is remarkably exhausting to the strength, and irritating beyond endurance to the nerves. this is only where sewing is almost the only employment, or is carried on for several hours together. when girls are not so fond of sewing as i was in my youth, and use the needle only as girls usually do, there is no cause for particular anxiety: but the mother should carefully vary the occupations of a girl disposed to be sedentary. if pleasant reading or conversation can go on the while, it is well. the family meals too, and other interruptions, will break off the employment, probably, before it has gone too far. but, if there is the slightest sign of that nervous distress called "the fidgets" (which truly deserves the name of "distress") or any paleness of countenance, lowness of spirits, or irritability of temper, there is reason to suppose that the needle has been plied too far; and, however unwilling the girl may be to leave work which she is bent upon finishing, it is clearly time that she was in the open air, or playing with the baby, or about some stirring business in the house. i have always had a strong persuasion that the greater part of the sewing done in the world will ere long be done by machinery. it appears much more easy than many things that are done by machinery now; and when it is considered how many minute stitches go to the making of a garment, it seems strange that some less laborious and slow method of making joins and edges has not been invented before this. surely it will be done in the course of a few generations; and a great blessing the change will be to women, who must, by that time, have gained admission to many occupations now kept from them by men, through which they may earn a maintenance more usefully and with less sacrifice of health than by the present toils of the sempstress. the progress made in spinning, weaving, and especially knitting by machinery, and in making water-proof cloaks and other covering without the help of the needle, seems to point with certainty to an approaching time when the needle will be almost superseded. with this, and the consequent saving of time, must come a greater abundance of clothing, and an accompanying cheapness, which will be a great blessing to a large class by whom good and sufficient clothing cannot now be obtained. meantime, our ways are improved, by the turning over of some of the work to machinery. the sewing-schools to which young ladies were sent in the last century, to sit six hours a-day on hard benches, too high for their feet to touch the ground, compelled to hold themselves upright, and yet to pore over fine cambric and linen, to do microscopic marking and stitching, are heard of no more. in their day, they bent many spines, spoiled many eyes, and plagued many a young creature with back-ache for life; so we may rejoice that they are gone, and must take care that none of their mischief is done at home, while all really useful good sewing can very easily be taught there. one change which has taken place in our society since the peace has struck me much. since the continent was opened to us, almost all who can afford to travel, more or less, have been abroad. struck with the advantages to themselves of having their minds opened and enlarged by intercourse with foreign nations, and by access to foreign literature, art, and methods of education in some respects superior to our own, they have naturally desired to give such advantages to their children, while they were yet young enough to benefit fully by them. great numbers of children, and young people yet growing, have been carried abroad by their parents, and, of course, have obtained more or less of the "advantages" for which they went. but at what cost? in my opinion, at a fatal one. much might be said of the danger to health and life of a complete change of diet and habits at so early an age. a friend of mine was telling me, and i was agreeing with her, that she and i hardly know of a family of children who have travelled abroad for any length of time that has not been fatally visited with the dreadful bilious fever which, when it spares life, too often does some irreparable injury to the frame,--to brain, or sense, or limbs. bad as this is, it is not the worst. the practice is against nature; and those who adopt it must bear the retribution for offences against nature's laws. nature ordains a kind of vegetative existence for children till the frame is complete, and strengthened in its completeness. the utmost regularity of habits (which by no means implies dulness of life) produces, beyond all question, the most healthy frames, and there cannot be a sadder mistake than to suppose that any greater variety than the most ordinary life affords is necessary to the quickening or entertainment of a child's faculties. life, with all its objects, is new to him. its commonest incidents are deeply interesting to him. birth and death are exciting to him, and solemn beyond expression. the opening and close of the seasons, and their varying pleasures and pursuits, the changes in the lives of the people about him; the evolution of his own little history,--the expanding of his faculties, his achievements in study, his entrance upon more and more advanced duties and intercourses;--these are enough to keep his mind in full life and vigour: and he cannot receive his experience of life into the depths of his being unless he is at rest. if he is to commune with his own heart, he must be still. if he is to gather into his mind ripe observations of nature and man, and to store them up reflectively, he must be still. if his sentiments and emotions are to be the natural result of the workings of life upon him, he must be still, that life may work upon him undisturbed. i have devoted a close attention to this subject; and i certainly conclude, from my own observation, that the intellectual and moral value of families who have lived quietly at home (with due educational assistance) very far transcends that of young people whose anxious parents have dragged them about the world,--catching at advantages here and advantages there, unconscious of the sacrifice of the greatest advantage of all,--a natural method of life, with the quietude which belongs to it. i think that the untravelled have a deeper reflectiveness than the travelled,--a deeper sensibility,--a better working power, on the whole,--a better preparation for the life before them. they have more prejudice, and, of course, less accomplishment than the travelled; but life and years are pretty sure to abate the prejudice; and a better timed travel may give the accomplishment. if not, however,--if there must be a choice of good and evil at the outset of life, who would not rather see the fault of narrowness than of shallowness? a mind which has depth must, in ordinary course, widen; while a shallow mind, however wide, can never be worth much. in the sensibility, the difference is as marked as in the understanding: and no wonder; for to the quiet dweller at home life is an awful scroll, slowly and steadily unrolling to disclose its characters of fire, which burn themselves in upon the brain; while, to the young rover, life is but too much like a show-box, whose scenes shift too fast, and with too little interval, to make much impression. i mention this here, chiefly for the sake of parents who may feel occasional regrets that they cannot give to their children what they suppose to be the "advantages" of travel. my conviction is that their children are happier than they suppose. a moment's thought will show them how few the rovers can be,--how overwhelming must be the majority of those who must stay at home: and we may always be confident that the lot of the great majority, _duly improved_, must be sufficient for all the purposes of human life. nothing that i have said is meant at all in disapprobation of those occasional changes of scene and society which all young people require more or less. on the contrary, i would indicate, as one of the advantages of a regular home life, that it prepares the novice to profit the more by such occasional changes. it is a magnificent event in the life of a quiet, industrious family when a house-painting, or other domestic necessity, authorises a visit to the sea-side, or a plunge into the country for a couple of months. it serves as a prodigious stimulus to the intellect; and the recollection never loses its brilliancy, to the latest period of life. it is worth more to novices than a whole year of continental travelling to practised rovers. the sunsets have sunk deep. the light-house, the dip in the waves, the shingle, the distant fleet--or the gorse on the common, the wood paths, with their wild flowers, the breezy down, the cottage in the lane,--call up a thrill in the heart of the town-bred child whenever the images are called up. such changes are good; but they are not roving in search of "advantages." again, when one child among several appears to pine in any degree, becomes irritable or depressed, looks pale, or ceases to grow, it is a sign that some change is needed. if such a boy or girl should be invited by some relation or friend on a visit of any length, it is probable that all will come right. the mind wants an airing, perhaps; and in a fresh abode, among new objects, and kind friends, and different companionship, and change of habits, without any further excitement, brooding thoughts are dispersed, domestic affections revive and strengthen, the mind overflows with new ideas, and after a time, home becomes intensely longed for; and the young absentee returns home--to father's greeting, and mother's side, and brothers and sisters' companionship, with more rapture than the prospect of the journey ever caused. such a change as this is good; but it is not roving for educational "advantages." it is an agreeable tonic medicine; not a regimen of high diet. the case of the only child seems to ask a word of kindness here. at the best, the case of the only child is a somewhat mournful one,--somewhat forlorn,--because it is unnatural. if it is unnatural for a multitude of children of the same age to herd together in an infant school, it is at least as much so for a little creature to live alone among people with full-grown brains, and all occupied with the pursuits and interests of mature life. it is very well for the father to romp with his child at spare times, and for the mother to love it with her whole heart, and sympathise with it, with all the sympathy that such love can inspire. this is all well: but it does not make them children,--nor, therefore, natural companions for a child. in this case, above all others, it is desirable that the child should be sent to school, when old enough: and especially if the only one be a boy. a good day school, where play is included, may do much to obviate the disadvantages of the position. if this cannot be done, it is really hardly to be hoped that mischief will not be done on the one side or the other,--of too much or too little attention and sympathy. some may wonder at the idea of the only child being in danger of having too little sympathy from its parents: but such cases are very conceivable and are occasionally witnessed. if everybody sees how an only child,--the light and charm of the house, the idol of the mother, and the pet of everybody, must unavoidably become of too much importance in its own eyes, and suffer accordingly,--who should feel this so anxiously and constantly as the conscientious parents of an only child? and what is more probable than that, in their anxiety not to spoil the mind they have under their charge, they should carry the bracing system somewhat too far, and depress the child by giving it less fostering and sympathy than it needs? they would not, for its own sake, have it troublesome to their friends, or self-important, or selfish; and they keep it back. but alas! if put back, the little thing is driven into loneliness; and children are not made for loneliness, in any but a desert life. give a child the desert to rove in, with brown sheep to tend, and a young camel to play with, and rocks and weeds, and springs and stars and shrubby palms to live amongst, and he may make a very pleasant life of it, all alone; but not if he lives in a street, and must not go out alone, and passes his life among square rooms and stair-cases, and the measured movements of grown-up people. an only child must be troublesome, as long as he is a child. he craves play, and sympathy, and constant companionship: and he cannot do without them--he must not be required to do without them. if he is not sent to school, grown people must be his companions and playfellows,--the victims to his restlessness; and he must be troublesome.--the case is nearly the same,--only somewhat less desperate,--with a girl. her parents cannot, if they have eyes, hearts, or consciences, see her pine. they must either provide her with natural companionship, or they must let themselves and their friends be appropriated by her as companions, till she grows up into fitness to be a companion to them.--it is not included in this necessity that there should be selfishness of temper and manners. the more fully and naturally the needs of the social nature are met and supplied, the less is the danger of this kind arising from peculiarity of position. chapter xxvi. conclusion. is there any other department of household education than those on which i have touched? no one can be more aware than i am of the scantiness of what i have said, when compared with the vastness of the range and of the importance of the subject. i could only, as i declared at the beginning, tell a little of what i have seen and thought of the training of families in private life: but, admitting the meagre character of the whole, is there any one department left untouched? i am not aware of any that could be treated of in a volume for general reading. some may, perhaps, ask for a chapter on social habits: and an important subject it truly is. but it appears to me to be included in that of family habits and manners. the same simplicity and ingenuousness, the same respect and kindliness, the same earnestness and cheerfulness, which should pervade the conduct and manners in the interior of the household are the best elements of conduct and manners in the world. i see no discretion and no grace which is needed in wider social intercourses that is not required by those of home. to the parents there may be some anxiety and uneasiness when their sons and daughters make intimacies out of the house. the warm friendships of youth may not perhaps be such as the parents would have chosen. they may be such as surprise and disappoint the parents. but the very fact of the surprise and disappointment should show them that there is something more in the matter than they understand or should seek to control. they cannot control the sympathies of any one; and no one being can fully understand the affinities which exist between others. the points to be regarded are clear enough: and when the best is done that can be done, the rest may be left without anxiety. the main point is to preserve the full confidence of the young people. if perfect openness and the utmost practicable sympathy be maintained, all must be safe. young people must win their own experience. they must find out character for themselves: they must try their own ground in social life; they must be self-convicted of the prejudices and partialities which belong to their immaturity; and, while their own moral rectitude and their ingenuous confidence in their parents subsist, they can take no permanent harm from casual associations which may be far from wise. the parents should remember too how very important a part of the training of each individual is of a kind which the parents have nothing to do with but to witness, and to have patience with, as a piece of discipline to themselves. as has been observed before, there seems to be a fine provision in human nature for rectifying home tendencies which would otherwise be too strong, and for supplying the imperfections of home experience by the process which takes place,--the revolution of moral tastes which ensues,--upon the introduction of young people into a wider circle than that of home. the parents have naturally,--unavoidably,--laid the most stress in the training of their children on those qualities which are strongest in themselves, and slight, more or less, such as they disregard, or are conscious of not excelling in themselves. when the young people go out into the world, they are struck by the novel beauty of virtues in full exercise which they have seen and heard but little of, and fall in love with them, and with those who possess them, and, with a fresh enthusiasm, cherish them in themselves. thus it is that we so often see whole families of young people becoming characterised by the virtues in which their parents are most deficient; and also, as a consequence, by the faults which are the natural attendants of those virtues. i have seen a case of parents, indulgent and faithful to their children, virulently censorious to the rest of the world;--the children, while wearing pinafores, disgusting from their gleeful gossip, picked up from the elders, scorning and quizzing everybody's thoughts and ways;--and those same children, when abroad in the world as men and women, growing first grave,--then just and fair,--then philosophical, and at last indulgent, as the truly philosophical must ever be. they preserved the keen insight into character and the movements of mind in which they had been trained at home, after first recognising, and then opening their hearts to the beauty of charity. i have seen the children of imprudent, lavish, and embarrassed parents turn out eminently correct in their management of money matters:--the children of an untidy mother turn out perfectly methodical;--the children of a too social father, remarkably retired and domestic; and so on. very often the new and late virtue becomes too prominent, excluding the hereditary opposite qualities; and in that case, when these young people become parents, the same process takes place, and their children strongly resemble their grandparents. it is a curious spectacle,--that of such a moral oscillation;--and it is so common that every one may observe it. one of the pieces of instruction that it yields is to parents;--that they must now let nature work, and take off their hands from meddling. they may themselves learn something if they will, in silence and sympathy, from the spectacle of the expansion of their children; and they may take the lesson into a light and easy heart if they have hitherto done their duty as well as they know how. there is nothing in what they see to hurt any but an improper pride: and they may make sure of an increased reverence and love from their children if they have the magnanimity to go hand in hand with them into new fields of moral exercise and enterprise, and to admit the beauty and desirableness of what they see. here we have arrived at the ultimate stage of household education,--that where the entire household advances together, in equal companionship, towards the great object of human existence, the perfecting of each individual in it. we set out with the view that the education of a household comprehended the training and discipline of all its members; and here we find ourselves at the same point again, amidst a great difference in the circumstances. they are no longer all under the same roof. one may be in the distant town; another in a far country; a third in the next street, but seen only on sundays: but still they are one household company, living in full confidence and sympathy, though their eyes may seldom meet, and a clasp of the hand may be a rare luxury. the mother who once received discipline from her child when he was a wailing infant, keeping her from her rest at midnight, receives another discipline from him now when she sees him in earnest pursuit of some high and holy aim whose nobleness had become somewhat clouded to her through the cares of the world, and her very solicitude for him. the father who had suffered perhaps too keenly from some gross faults of his thoughtless boys in their season of turbulence, receives from them now a new discipline--a rebuke full of sweetness,--in the proof they offer that he had distrusted nature,--had failed in faith that she would do her work well, if only the way was duly kept open for her. there is a new discipline for them in the gradual contraction of the family circle, in the deepening quietness of the house, and in the loss of the little hourly services which the elderly people now think they hardly valued enough while they had them every hour. we can never say that any part of the discipline of life is over for any one of us; and that of domestic life is certainly not over for affectionate parents whose children are called away from their side, however unquestionable the call may be. as for the younger generation of the household,--their education by their parents never ceases while the parents live: and the less assertion the parents make of this, the deeper are the lessons they impress. the deepest impressions received in life are supposed to be those imparted to the sensitive and tenacious mind of childhood: but the mature reverence and affection of a manly mind are excited more efficaciously than the emotions of childhood can ever be when the active men and women who were once the children of a household see their grey-haired parents in the midst of them looking up to nature, and reaching after truth and right with the humble trust and earnest docility which spread the sweetest charm of youth over the countenance of age. however many and however rich are the lessons they have learned from their parents, assuredly, in such a case, the richest is the last. the end london: bradbury and evans printers, whitefriars * * * * * september , . a list of books recently published by edward moxon, , dover street. miscellaneous. i. haydn's dictionary of dates, and universal reference, relating to all ages and nations; 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formerly assistant master at harrow, and lecturer on the history of education at cambridge; late vicar of ledbergh. _only authorized edition of the work as rewritten in ._ price, $ . . vol. xviii.--a text-book in psychology. an attempt to found the science of psychology on experience, metaphysics, and mathematics. by johann friedrich herbart. translated from the original german by margaret k. smith, teacher in the state normal school at oswego, new york. price, $ . . vol. xix.--psychology applied to the art of teaching. by dr. joseph baldwin. price, $ . . vol. xx.--rousseau's Émile. by w. h. payne. price, $ . . vol. xxi.--ethical training in schools. by felix adler. vol. xxii.--english education in the elementary and secondary schools. by isaac sharpless, ll.d. price, $ . . vol. xxiii.--education from a national standpoint. by alfred fouillÉe. price, $ . . _circular, describing the volumes more in detail, mailed to any address on request._ new york: d. appleton & co., publishers, , , & bond street. international education series the moral instruction of children by felix adler new york d. appleton and company copyright, , by d. appleton and company. electrotyped and printed at the appleton press, u.s.a. editor's preface. moral education is everywhere acknowledged to be the most important part of all education; but there has not been the same agreement in regard to the best means of securing it in the school. this has been due in part to a want of insight into the twofold nature of this sort of education; for instruction in morals includes two things: the formation of right ideas and the formation of right habits. right ideas are necessary to guide the will, but right habits are the product of the will itself. it is possible to have right ideas to some extent without the corresponding moral habits. on this account the formation of correct habits has been esteemed by some to be the chief thing. but unconscious habits--mere use and wont--do not seem to deserve the title of moral in its highest sense. the moral act should be a considerate one, and rest on the adoption of principles to guide one's actions. to those who lay stress on the practical side and demand the formation of correct habits, the school as it is seems to be a great ethical instrumentality. to those who see in theoretical instruction the only true basis of moral character, the existing school methods seem sadly deficient. the school as it is looks first after its discipline, and next after its instruction. discipline concerns the behavior, and instruction concerns the intellectual progress of the pupil. that part of moral education which relates to habits of good behavior is much better provided for in the school than any part of intellectual education. there is, however, a conflict here between old and new ideals. the old-fashioned school regarded obedience to authority the one essential; the new ideal regards insight into the reasonableness of moral commands the chief end. it is said, with truth, that a habit of unreasoning obedience does not fit one for the exigencies of modern life, with its partisan appeals to the individual and its perpetual display of grounds and reasons, specious and otherwise, in the newspapers. the unreasoning obedience to a moral guide in school may become in after life unreasoning obedience to a demagogue or to a leader in crime. it is not obedience to external authority that we need so much as enlightened moral sense, and yet there remains and will remain much good in the old-fashioned habit of implicit obedience. the new education aims at building up self-control and individual insight. it substitutes the internal authority of conscience for the external authority of the master. it claims by this to educate the citizen fitted for the exercise of suffrage in a free government. he will weigh political and social questions in his mind, and decide for himself. he will be apt to reject the scheme of the demagogue. while the old-fashioned school-master relied on the rod to sustain his external authority, he produced, it is said, a reaction against all authority in the minds of strong-willed pupils. the new education saves the strong-willed pupil from this tension against constituted authority, and makes him law-abiding from the beginning. it will be admitted that the school under both its forms--old as well as new--secures in the main the formation of the cardinal moral habits. it is obliged to insist on regularity, punctuality, silence, and industry as indispensable for the performance of its school tasks. a private tutor may permit his charge to neglect all these things, and yet secure some progress in studies carried on by fits and starts, with noise and zeal to-day, followed by indolence to-morrow. but a school, on account of its numbers, must insist on the semi-mechanical virtues of regularity, punctuality, silence, and industry. although these are semi-mechanical in their nature, for with much practice they become unconscious habits, yet they furnish the very ground-work of all combinations of man with his fellow-men. they are fundamental conditions of social life. the increase of city population, consequent on the growth of productive industry and the substitution of machines for hand labor, renders necessary the universal prevalence of these cardinal virtues of the school. even the management of machines requires that sort of alertness which comes from regularity and punctuality. the travel on the railroad, the management of steam-engines, the necessities of concerted action, require punctuality and rhythmic action. the school habit of silence means considerate regard for the rights of fellow-workmen. they must not be interfered with; their attention must not be distracted from their several tasks. a rational self-restraint grows out of this school habit--rational, because it rests on considerateness for the work of others. this is a great lesson in co-operation. morals in their essence deal with the relation of man to his fellow-men, and rest on a considerateness for the rights of others. "do unto others," etc., sums up the moral code. industry, likewise, takes a high rank as a citizen's virtue. by it man learns to re-enforce the moments by the hours, and the days by the years. he learns how the puny individual can conquer great obstacles. the school demands of the youth a difficult kind of industry. he must think and remember, giving close and unremitting attention to subjects strange and far off from his daily life. he must do this in order to discover eventually that these strange and far-off matters are connected in a close manner to his own history and destiny. there is another phase of the pupil's industry that has an important bearing on morals. all his intellectual work in the class has to do with critical accuracy, and respect for the truth. loose statements and careless logical inference meet with severe reproof. finally, there is an enforced politeness and courtesy toward teachers and fellow-pupils--at least to the extent of preventing quarrels. this is directly tributary to the highest of virtues, namely, kindness and generosity. all these moral phases mentioned have to do with the side of school discipline rather than instruction, and they do not necessarily have any bearing on the theory of morals or on ethical philosophy, except in the fact that they make a very strong impression on the mind of the youth, and cause him to feel that he is a member of a moral order. he learns that moral demands are far more stern than the demands of the body for food or drink or repose. the school thus does much to change the pupil from a natural being to a spiritual being. physical nature becomes subordinated to the interests of human nature. notwithstanding the fact that the school is so efficient as a means of training in moral habits, it is as yet only a small influence in the realm of moral theory. even our colleges and universities, it must be confessed, do little in this respect, although there has been of late an effort to increase in the programmes the amount of time devoted to ethical study. the cause of this is the divorce of moral theory from theology. all was easy so long as ethics was directly associated with the prevailing religious confession. the separation of church and state, slowly progressing everywhere since the middle ages, has at length touched the question of education. the attempt to find an independent basis for ethics in the science of sociology has developed conflicting systems. the college student is rarely strengthened in his faith in moral theories by his theoretic study. too often his faith is sapped. those who master a spiritual philosophy are strengthened; the many who drift toward a so-called "scientific" basis are led to weaken their moral convictions to the standpoint of fashion, or custom, or utility. meanwhile the demand of the age to separate church from state becomes more and more exacting. religious instruction has almost entirely ceased in the public schools, and it is rapidly disappearing from the programmes of colleges and preparatory schools, and few academies are now scenes of religious revival, as once was common. the publishers of this series are glad, therefore, to offer a book so timely and full of helpful suggestions as this of mr. adler. it is hoped that it may open for many teachers a new road to theoretic instruction in morality, and at the same time re-enforce the study of literature in our schools. w. t. harris. washington, d.c., _july, _. prefatory note. the following lectures were delivered in the school of applied ethics during its first session in , at plymouth, mass. a few of the lectures have been condensed, in order to bring more clearly into view the logical scheme which underlies the plan of instruction here outlined. the others are published substantially as delivered. i am deeply conscious of the difficulties of the problem which i have ventured to approach, and realize that any contribution toward its solution, at the present time, must be most imperfect. i should, for my part, have preferred to wait longer before submitting my thought to teachers and parents. but i have been persuaded that even in its present shape it may be of some use. i earnestly hope that, at all events, it may serve to help on the rising tide of interest in moral education, and may stimulate to further inquiry. felix adler. contents. introductory lectures. page i. the problem of unsectarian moral instruction ii. the efficient motives of good conduct iii. opportunities for moral training in the daily school iv. the classification of duties v. the moral outfit of children on entering school primary course. vi. the use of fairy tales vii. the use of fables viii. supplementary remarks on fables ix. selected stories from the bible x. the odyssey and the iliad grammar course. lessons on duty. xi. the duty of acquiring knowledge xii. duties which relate to the physical life and the feelings xiii. duties which relate to others (filial and fraternal duties) xiv. duties toward all men (justice and charity) xv. the elements of civic duty xvi. the use of proverbs and speeches xvii. individualization of moral teaching appendix. the influence of manual training on character introductory lectures. i. the problem of unsectarian moral instruction. it will be the aim of the present course of lectures to give in outline the subject-matter of moral instruction for children from six to fourteen or fifteen years of age, and to discuss the methods according to which this kind of instruction should be imparted. at the outset, however, we are confronted by what certainly is a grave difficulty, and to many may appear an insuperable one. the opinion is widely held that morality depends on religious sanctions, and that right conduct can not be taught--especially not to children--except it be under the authority of some sort of religious belief. to those who think in this way the very phrase, unsectarian moral teaching, is suspicious, as savoring of infidelity. and the attempt to mark off a neutral moral zone, outside the domains of the churches, is apt to be regarded as masking a covert design on religion itself. the principle of unsectarian moral instruction, however, is neither irreligious nor anti-religious. in fact--as will appear later on--it rests on purely educational grounds, with which the religious bias of the educator has nothing whatever to do. but there are also grounds of expediency which, at least in the united states, compel us, whether we care to do so or not, to face this problem of unsectarian moral education, and to these let us first give our attention. even if we were to admit, for argument's sake, the correctness of the proposition that moral truths can only be taught as corollaries of some form of religious belief, the question would at once present itself to the educator, to which form of religious belief shall he give the preference? i am speaking now of the public schools of the united states. these schools are supported out of the general fund of taxation to which all citizens are compelled to contribute. clearly it would be an act of gross injustice to force a citizen belonging to one denomination to pay for instilling the doctrines of some other into the minds of the young--in other words, to compel him to support and assist in spreading religious ideas in which he does not believe. this would be an outrage on the freedom of conscience. but the act of injustice would become simply monstrous if parents were to be compelled to help indoctrinate their own children with such religious opinions as are repugnant to them. there is no state religion in the united states. in the eyes of the state all shades of belief and disbelief are on a par. there are in this country catholics, episcopalians, presbyterians, methodists, baptists, jews, etc. they are alike citizens. they contribute alike toward the maintenance of the public schools. with what show of fairness, then, could the belief of any one of these sects be adopted by the state as a basis for the inculcation of moral truths? the case seems, on the face of it, a hopeless one. but the following devices have been suggested to remove, or rather to circumvent, the difficulty. _first device._--let representatives of the various theistic churches, including catholics, protestants, and jews, meet in council. let them eliminate all those points in respect to which they differ, and formulate a common creed containing only those articles on which they can agree. such a creed would include, for instance, the belief in the existence of deity, in the immortality of the soul, and in future reward and punishment. upon this as a foundation let the edifice of moral instruction be erected. there are, however, two obvious objections to this plan. in the first place, this "dreibund" of catholicism, protestantism, and judaism would leave out of account the party of the agnostics, whose views may indeed be erroneous, or even detestable, but whose rights as citizens ought not the less on that account to be respected. "_neminem læde_," hurt no one, is a cardinal rule of justice, and should be observed by the friends of religion in their dealings with their opponents as well as with one another. the agnostic party has grown to quite considerable dimensions in the united states. but, if it had not, if there were only a single person who held such opinions, and he a citizen, any attempt on the part of the majority to trample upon the rights of this one person would still be inexcusable. in the sphere of political action the majority rules, and must rule; in matters that touch the conscience the smallest minority possesses rights on which even an overwhelming majority arrayed on the opposite side can not afford to trespass. it is one of the most notable achievements of the american commonwealths that they have so distinctly separated between the domain of religion and of politics, adopting in the one case the maxim of coercion by majority rule, in the other allowing the full measure of individual liberty. from this standpoint there should be no departure. but the second objection is even more cogent. it is proposed to eliminate the differences which separate the various sects, and to formulate their points of agreement into a common creed. but does it not occur to those who propose this plan that the very life of a religion is to be found precisely in those points in which it differs from its neighbors, and that an abstract scheme of belief, such as has been sketched, would, in truth, satisfy no one? thus, out of respect for the sentiments of the jews, it is proposed to omit the doctrines of the divinity of christ and of the atonement. but would any earnest christian give his assent, even provisionally, to a creed from which those quintessential doctrines of christianity have been left out? when the christian maintains that morality must be based on religion, does he not mean, above all, on the belief in christ? is it not indispensable, from his point of view, that the figure of the saviour shall stand in the foreground of moral inculcation and exhortation? again, when the catholic affirms that the moral teaching of the young must be based on religion, is it to be supposed for an instant that he would accept as satisfying his conception of religion a skeleton creed like that above mentioned, denuded of all those peculiar dogmas which make religion in his eyes beautiful and dear? this first device, therefore, is to be rejected. it is unjust to the agnostics, and it will never content the really religious persons of any denomination. it could prove acceptable only to theists pure and simple, whose creed is practically limited to the three articles mentioned; namely, the belief in deity, immortality, and future punishment and reward. but this class constitutes a small fraction of the community; and it would be absurd, under the specious plea of reconciling the various creeds, in effect to impose the rationalistic opinions of a few on the whole community. the _second device_ seems to promise better results. it provides that religious and moral instruction combined shall be given in the public schools under the auspices of the several denominations. according to this plan, the pupils are to be divided, for purposes of moral instruction, into separate classes, according to their sectarian affiliations, and are to be taught separately by their own clergymen or by teachers acting under instructions from the latter. the high authority of germany is invoked in support of this plan. if i am correctly informed, the president of one of our leading universities has recently spoken in favor of it, and it is likely that an attempt will be made to introduce it in the united states. already in some of our reformatory schools and other public institutions separate religious services are held by the ministers of the various sects, and we may expect that an analogous arrangement will be proposed with respect to moral teaching in the common schools. it is necessary, therefore, to pay some attention to the german system, and to explain the reasons which have induced or compelled the germans to adopt the compromise just described. the chief points to be noted are these: in germany, church and state are united. the king of prussia, for instance, is the head of the evangelical church. this constitutes a vital difference between america and germany. secondly, in germany the schools existed before the state took charge of them. the school system was founded by the church, and the problem which confronted the government was how to convert church schools into state schools. an attempt was made to do this by limiting the influence of the clergy, which formerly had been all-powerful and all-pervasive, to certain branches and certain hours of instruction, thereby securing the supremacy of the state in respect to all other branches and at all other hours. in america, on the other hand, the state founded the schools _ab initio_. in germany the state has actually encroached upon the church, has entered church schools and reconstructed them in its own interest. to adopt the german system in america would be to permit the church to encroach upon the state, to enter state schools and subordinate them to sectarian purposes. the example of germany can not, therefore, be quoted as a precedent in point. the system of compromise in germany marks an advance in the direction of increasing state influence. its adoption in this country would mark a retrograde movement in the direction of increasing church influence. nor can the system, when considered on its own merits, be called a happy one. prof. gneist, in his valuable treatise, die konfessionelle schule (which may be read by those who desire to inform themselves on the historical evolution of the prussian system), maintains that scientific instruction must be unsectarian, while religious instruction must be sectarian. i agree to both his propositions. but to my mind it follows that, if religious instruction must be sectarian, it ought not to have a place in state schools, at least not in a country in which the separation of church and state is complete. moreover, the limitation of religious teaching to a few hours a week can never satisfy the earnest sectarian. if he wants religion in the schools at all, then he will also want that specific kind of religious influence which he favors to permeate the whole school. he will insist that history shall be taught from his point of view, that the readers shall breathe the spirit of his faith, that the science teaching shall be made to harmonize with its doctrines, etc. what a paltry concession, indeed, to open the door to the clergyman twice or three times a week, and to permit him to teach the catechism to the pupils, while the rest of the teaching is withdrawn from his control, and is perhaps informed by a spirit alien to his! this kind of compromise can never heartily be indorsed; it may be accepted under pressure, but submission to it will always be under protest.[ ] the third arrangement that has been suggested is that each sect shall build its own schools, and draw upon the fund supplied by taxation proportionately to the number of children educated. but to this there are again two great objections: first, it is the duty of the state to see to it that a high educational standard shall be maintained in the schools, and that the money spent on them shall bear fruit in raising the general intelligence of the community. but the experience of the past proves conclusively that in sectarian schools, especially where there are no rival unsectarian institutions to force them into competition, the preponderance of zeal and interest is so markedly on the side of religious teaching that the secular branches unavoidably suffer.[ ] if it is said that the state may prescribe rules and set up standards of its own, to which the sectarian schools shall be held to conform, we ask, who is to secure such conformance? the various sects, once having gained possession of the public funds, would resent the interference of the state. the inspectors who might be appointed would never be allowed to exercise any real control, and the rules which the state might prescribe would remain dead letter. in the second place, under such an arrangement, the highest purpose for which the public schools exist would be defeated. sectarian schools tend to separate the members of the various denominations from one another, and to hinder the growth of that spirit of national unity which it is, on the other hand, the prime duty of the public school to create and foster. the support of a system of public education out of the proceeds of taxation is justifiable in the last analysis as a measure dictated to the state by the law of self-preservation. the state maintains public schools in order to preserve itself--i. e., its unity. and this is especially true in a republic. in a monarchy the strong arm of the reigning dynasty, supported by a ruling class, may perhaps suppress discord, and hold the antagonistic elements among the people in subjection by sheer force. in a republic only the spirit of unity among the people themselves can keep them a people. and this spirit is fostered in public schools, where children of all classes and sects are brought into daily, friendly contact, and where together they are indoctrinated into the history, tradition, and aspirations of the nation to which they belong. what then? we have seen that we can not encourage, that we can not permit, the establishment of sectarian schools at the public expense. we have also seen that we can not teach religion in the public schools. must we, therefore, abandon altogether the hope of teaching the elements of morals? is not moral education conceded to be one of the most important, if not the most important, of all branches of education? must we forego the splendid opportunities afforded by the daily schools for this purpose? is there not a way of imparting moral instruction without giving just offense to any religious belief or any religious believer, or doing violence to the rights of any sect or of any party whatsoever? the correct answer to this question would be the solution of the problem of unsectarian moral education. i can merely state my answer to-day, in the hope that the entire course before us may substantiate it. the answer, as i conceive it, is this: it is the business of the moral instructor in the school to deliver to his pupils the subject-matter of morality, but not to deal with the sanctions of it; to give his pupils a clearer understanding of what _is_ right and what _is_ wrong, but not to enter into the question why the right should be done and the wrong avoided. for example, let us suppose that the teacher is treating of veracity. he says to the pupil, thou shalt not lie. he takes it for granted that the pupil feels the force of this commandment, and acknowledges that he ought to yield obedience to it. for my part, i should suspect of quibbling and dishonest intention any boy or girl who would ask me, why ought i not to lie? i should hold up before such a child the ought in all its awful majesty. the right to reason about these matters can not be conceded until after the mind has attained a certain maturity. and as a matter of fact every good child agrees with the teacher unhesitatingly when he says, it is wrong to lie. there is an answering echo in its heart which confirms the teacher's words. but what, then, is it my business as a moral teacher to do? in the first place, to deepen the impression of the wrongfulness of lying, and the sacredness of truth, by the spirit in which i approach the subject. my first business is to convey the spirit of moral reverence to my pupils. in the next place, i ought to quicken the pupil's perceptions of what is right and wrong, in the case supposed, of what is truth and what is falsehood. accordingly, i should analyze the different species of lies, with a view of putting the pupils on their guard against the spirit of falsehood, however it may disguise itself. i should try to make my pupils see that, whenever they intentionally convey a false impression, they are guilty of falsehood. i should try to make their minds intelligent and their consciences sensitive in the matter of truth-telling, so that they may avoid those numerous ambiguities of which children are so fond, and which are practiced even by adults. i should endeavor to tonic their moral nature with respect to truthfulness. in the next place, i should point out to them the most frequent motives which lead to lying, so that, by being warned against the causes, they may the more readily escape the evil consequences. for example, cowardice is one cause of lying. by making the pupil ashamed of cowardice, we can often cure him of the tendency to falsehood. a redundant imagination is another cause of lying, envy is another cause, selfishness in all its forms is a principal cause, etc. i should say to the moral teacher: direct the pupil's attention to the various dangerous tendencies in his nature, which tempt him into the ways of falsehood. furthermore, explain to your pupils the consequences of falsehood: the loss of the confidence of our fellow-men, which is the immediate and palpable result of being detected in a lie; the injuries inflicted on others; the loosening of the bonds of mutual trust in society at large; the loss of self-respect on the part of the liar; the fatal necessity of multiplying lies, of inventing new falsehoods to make good the first, etc. a vast amount of good, i am persuaded, can be done in this way by stimulating the moral nature, by enabling the scholar to detect the finer shades of right and wrong, helping him to trace temptation to its source, and erecting in his mind barriers against evil-doing, founded on a realizing sense of its consequences. in a similar if not exactly the same way, all the other principal topics of practical morality can be handled. the conscience can be enlightened, strengthened, guided, and all this can be done without once raising the question why it is wrong to do what is forbidden. that it is wrong should rather, as i have said, be assumed. the ultimate grounds of moral obligation need never be discussed in school. it is the business of religion and philosophy to propose theories, or to formulate articles of belief with respect to the ultimate sources and sanctions of duty. religion says we ought to do right because it is the will of god, or for the love of christ. philosophy says we should do right for utilitarian or transcendental reasons, or in obedience to the law of evolution, etc. the moral teacher, fortunately, is not called upon to choose between these various metaphysical and theological asseverations. as an individual he may subscribe to any one of them, but as a teacher he is bound to remain within the safe limits of his own province. he is not to explain why we should do the right, but to make the young people who are intrusted to his charge see more clearly what is right, and to instill into them his own love of and respect for the right. there is a body of moral truth upon which all good men, of whatever sect or opinion, are agreed: _it is the business of the public schools to deliver to their pupils this common fund of moral truth_. but i must hasten to add, to deliver it not in the style of the preacher, but according to the methods of the pedagogue--i. e., in a systematic way, the moral lessons being graded to suit the varying ages and capacities of the pupils, and the illustrative material being sorted and arranged in like manner. conceive the modern educational methods to have been applied to that stock of moral truths which all good men accept, and you will have the material for the moral lessons which are needed in a public school. footnotes: [ ] since the above was written, the draft of the _volksschulgesetz_ submitted to the prussian legislature, and the excited debates to which it gave rise, have supplied a striking confirmation of the views expressed in the text. nothing could be more mistaken than to propose for imitation elsewhere the german "solution" of the problem of moral teaching in schools, especially at a time when the germans themselves are taking great pains to make it clear that they are as far as possible from having found a solution. [ ] during the reactionary period which followed the revolution of , the school regulations of kur-hessen provided that twenty hours a week be devoted in the volkschulen to religious teaching. ii. the efficient motives of good conduct. there are persons in whom moral principle seems to have completely triumphed; whose conduct, so far as one can judge, is determined solely by moral rules; but whom, nevertheless, we do not wholly admire. we feel instinctively that there is in their virtue a certain flaw--the absence of a saving grace. they are too rigorous, too much the slaves of duty. they lack geniality. like religion, morality has its fanatics. thus, there is in the temperance movement a class of fanatics who look at every public question from the point of view of temperance reform, and from that only. there are also woman's-rights fanatics, social purity fanatics, etc. the moral fanatic in every case is a person whose attention is wholly engrossed by some one moral interest, and who sees this out of its relation to other moral interests. the end he has in view may be in itself highly laudable, but the exaggerated emphasis put upon it, the one-sided pursuit of it, is a mischievous error. observe, further, that there are degrees of moral fanaticism. the fanatic of the first degree, to whom emerson addresses the words, "what right have you, sir, to your one virtue?" has just been described. he is a person who exalts some one moral rule at the expense of the others. a fanatic of a higher order is he who exalts the whole body of moral rules at the expense of human instincts and desires. he is a person who always acts according to rule; who introduces moral considerations into every detail of life; who rides the moral hobby; in whose eyes the infinite complexity of human affairs has only one aspect, namely, the moral; who is never satisfied unless at every step he feels the strain of the bridle of conscience; who is incapable of spontaneous action and of _naïve_ enjoyment. it is believed that there are not a few persons of this description in the united states, and especially in the new england states--fanatics on the moral side, examples of a one-sided development in the direction of moral formalism. we must be very careful, when insisting on the authority of moral ideas, lest we encourage in the young a tendency of this sort. the hearts of children are very pliable; it is easily possible to produce on them too deep an impression: to give them at the outset a fatal twist, all the more since at a certain age many young people are prone to exaggerated introspection and self-questioning. but it may be asked: are not moral principles really clothed with supreme authority? ought we not, indeed, to keep the standard of righteousness constantly before our eyes; in brief, is it possible to be too moral? evidently we have reached a point where a distinction requires to be drawn. ethics is a science of relations. the things related are human interests, human ends. the ideal which ethics proposes to itself is the unity of ends, just as the ideal of science is the unity of causes. the ends of the natural man are the subject-matter with which ethics deals. the ends of the natural man are not to be crushed or wiped out, but to be brought into right relations with one another. the ends of the natural man are to be respected from an ethical point of view, so long as they remain within their proper limits. the moral laws are formulas expressing relations of equality or subordination, or superordination. the moral virtue of our acts consists in the respect which we pay to the system of relationships thus prescribed, in the willingness with which we co-ordinate our interests with those of others, or subordinate them to those of others, as the exigencies of the moral situation may require. but the point on which it is now necessary to fix our attention is that when morality has once sanctioned any of the ends of life, the natural man may be left to pursue them without interference on the part of the moralist. when morality has marked out the boundaries within which the given end shall be pursued, its work so far is done; except, indeed, that we are always to keep an eye upon those boundaries, and that the sense of their existence should pervade the whole atmosphere of our lives.[ ] a few illustrations will make my meaning clear. there is a moral rule which says that we should eat to live; not, conversely, live to eat. this means that we should regulate our food in such a way that the body may become a fit instrument for the higher purposes of existence, and that the time and attention bestowed upon the matter of eating shall not be so great as to divert us from other and more necessary objects. but, these limits being established, it does not follow that it is wrong or unspiritual to enjoy a meal. the senses, even the lowest of them, are permitted to have free play within the bounds prescribed. nor, again, should we try rigidly to determine the choice of food according to moral considerations. it would be ridiculous to attempt to do so. the choice of food within a wide range depends entirely on taste, and has nothing to do with moral considerations (whether, for instance, we should have squash or beans for dinner). those who are deeply impressed with the importance of moral rules are often betrayed into applying them to the veriest minutiæ of conduct. did they remember that ethics is a science of relations, or, what amounts to the same thing, a science of limits, they would be saved such pedantry. undoubtedly there are moral _adiaphora_. the fact that such exist has been a stumbling-block in the way of those who believe that morality ought to cover the whole of conduct. the definition of ethics as a science of relations or limits removes this stumbling-block. ethics stands at the frontier. with what goes on in the interior it does not interfere, except in so far as the limitations it prescribes are an interference. take another illustration. ethics condemns vanity and whatever ministers to vanity--as, e. g., undue attention to dress and adornment of the person--on the ground that this implies an immoral subordination of the inner to the outer, of the higher to the lesser ends. but, to lay down a cast-iron rule as to how much one has a right to expend on dress, can not be the office of ethics, on account of the infinite variety of conditions and occupations which subsists among men. and the attempt to prescribe a single fashion of dress, by sumptuary laws or otherwise, would impair that freedom of taste which it is the business of the moralist to respect. again, every one knows with what bitterness the moral rigorists of all ages have condemned the impulse which attracts the sexes toward one another, and how often they have tried, though vainly, to crush it. but here, again, the true attitude is indicated by the definition of ethics as a science of limits. the moral law prescribes bounds within which this emotional force shall be free to operate, and claims for it the holy name of love, so long as it remains within the bounds prescribed, and, being within, remains conscious of them. that is what is meant when we speak of spiritualizing the feelings. the feelings are spiritualized when they move within certain limits, and when the sense of the existence of these limits penetrates them, and thereby imparts to them a new and nobler quality. and, because such limitation is felt to be satisfying and elevating, the system of correlations which we call ethical, and which, abstractly stated, would fail to interest, does by this means find an entrance into the human heart, and awakens in it the sense of the sublimity and the blessedness of the moral commands. there are two defects of the moral fanatic which can now be signalized: first, he wrongly believes that whatever is not of morality is against it. he therefore is tempted to frown upon the natural pleasures; to banish them if he can, and, if not, to admit them only within the narrowest possible limits as a reluctant concession to the weakness of human nature. in consequence, the moral fanatic commits the enormity of introducing the taint of the sense of sin into the most innocent enjoyments, and thus perverts and distorts the conscience. secondly, he is always inclined to seek a moral reason for that which has only a natural one; to forget that, like the great conquerors of antiquity, morality respects the laws of the several realms which it unites into a single empire, and guarantees to each the unimpaired maintenance of its local customs. these remarks are intended to serve as a general caution. i find that young people, when they have become awakened on ethical subjects, often betray a tendency toward moral asceticism. i find that teachers, in the earnest desire to impress the laws of the moral empire, are sometimes betrayed into disregarding the provincial laws of the senses, the intellect, and the feelings; are apt to go too far in applying moral prescriptions to the minutiæ of conduct; are apt to leave the impression that pleasant things, just because they are pleasant, are therefore sinful. but we have now to take a further step, which will bring us close to our special subject for to-day, viz., the efficient motives of good conduct. the non-moral faculties are not only not anti-moral, as has been shown, but, when appealed to in the right way, they lend to morality a friendly, an almost indispensable support. the æsthetic, the intellectual, and the emotional faculty have not in themselves a moral quality, but when used as auxiliaries they pave the way for moral considerations pure and simple, and have in this sense an immense propædeutic value. without entering in this place into the philosophy of æsthetics, it is enough to say that the beautiful, like the good, results from and depends on the observance of certain limits and certain relations. and it will not seem far-fetched to suggest that pupils who have been trained to appreciate moderation, restraint and harmony of relations in external objects, will be predisposed to apply analogous measures to matters of conduct, and that a standard of valuation will thus be created in their minds which must prove favorable to right action. Æsthetics may become a pedagogue unto ethics. the same pedagogical function may be claimed for the intellect. the intellect traces the connection between causes and effects. applied to conduct, it shows the connection between acts and their consequences. it is the faculty which counsels prudence. one does not need to accept the egoistic theory of morals to concede that self-interest is an ally of morality, that prudence and virtue travel hand in hand a certain distance on the same road. not, indeed, until the ideal state shall have been reached will the dictates of the two ever coincide entirely; but to a certain extent the coincidence already exists, and the moral teacher is justified in availing himself of it as far as it goes. to take a very simple case--a child handles a knife which it has been told not to touch, and cuts his fingers. morally speaking, his fault is disobedience. he would have been equally guilty if he had escaped injury. but he would hardly be so ready to obey another time, if he had been less sharply reminded of the usefulness of obedience. it is wrong to lie--wrong on purely moral grounds, with which self-interest has nothing to do. but for all that we can not dispense with the lesson contained in the well-known fable of the boy who cried, "wolf!" it is wrong to steal on purely moral grounds. but even a child can be made to understand that the thief, as emerson puts it, "steals from himself," and that, besides being a rogue, he is deficient in enlightened self-interest. the maxim that honesty is the best policy is true enough so far as the facts are concerned, which come under the observation of children, though one may question whether it be true absolutely. lastly, when we come to consider the emotional faculty, we find that the intimate connection between it and the moral is so generally conceded as to make it quite superfluous to expatiate on it. on the contrary, it seems necessary to expostulate with those who claim too much credit for the feelings, who ascribe to them a moral value which they by no means possess. thus, gentleness is not necessarily a virtue; it may be a mere matter of temperament. sympathetic impulses, _per se_, are not praiseworthy. sympathy quite as often leads us astray as aright; sympathy, indeed, unless tutored and regulated by moral principles, is a danger against which we ought to be on our guard almost as much as against selfishness. yet, no one will deny that the feelings, when rightly trained, are of inestimable service as auxiliaries in the task of moral education. to sum up, let me say that the wise teacher will appeal to the taste, the intelligence, and the feelings of his pupils; that he will touch these various springs of conduct all the time, and get from them all the help he can. thus, when speaking of cleanliness, he will appeal to the æsthetic instinct of the children, awakening in them a feeling of disgust at untidiness. he will appeal to the prudential motive, by showing that want of cleanliness breeds disease. "you do not wish to be sick? you do not wish to suffer? therefore, it is to your interest to be clean." but, finally, he will touch a higher motive than any of these. "if you are unclean, you cease to respect yourself." and the term self-respect expresses in a condensed form the moral motive proper. it implies the idea of moral personality, which it is not necessary, nor possible, at this stage to analyze, but which the pupil will somehow understand, for his conscience will respond. in many cases the appeal will be made chiefly to the sympathetic feelings; for through these feelings we become aware of the pains and joys of others, and thus of the consequences of the benefits we confer or the evil we inflict. the sympathetic feelings supply the information upon which the will can act. they tell us that others suffer or are glad. and yet the strength to labor persistently for the relief of others' suffering and the enhancement of others' joy--that we can derive from the moral impulse alone. the moral motive is the highest, it is really the only sufficient motive. pray, understand me well at this point. i should say to the child: it is wrong to lie. that is sufficient. it is wrong, it is forbidden; you must yourself acknowledge the truth of my words, because you despise yourself when you have told a lie. but, in order to strengthen your weak resolution, to confirm you in well-doing, let me show you that it is also contrary to self-interest to lie, and likewise that it is disgusting to be unclean, and that a wrong done to another causes pain. thus the æsthetic, intellectual, and emotional faculties are called in as witnesses to bear testimony to the moral truths; they are invited to stand up in chorus and say amen! to the moral commands. footnote: [ ] it must be remembered also that our knowledge of the right ethical relations is still extremely imperfect, and that the duty of extending the knowledge and promoting the recognition of them is perhaps the highest of all--to which, on occasion, every lesser end must be sacrificed. iii. opportunities for moral training in the daily school. the school should be to the pupil not an intellectual drill-ground, but a second home; a place dear at the time, and to be gratefully remembered ever after; a place in which his whole nature, and especially what is best in him, may expand and grow. the educational aim should be, not merely to pave the pupil's way to future success, not merely to make of his mind a perfect instrument of thought, a kind of intellectual loom, capable of turning out the most complicated intellectual patterns. the aim should be, above all; to build up manhood, to develop character. there is no school in which moral influence is wanting. the pity is, that in many schools it is incidental, not purposed. and yet there are manifold opportunities in every school for influencing the moral life. let us consider a few of these. _ ._ the teaching of _science_ lends itself to the cultivation of truthfulness. truthfulness may be defined as the correspondence between thought and word and fact. when the thought in the mind fits the fact, and the word on the tongue fits the thought, then the circuit of truth is complete. now, with respect to the inculcating of truthfulness, science teaching has this advantage above other branches, that the palpable nature of the facts dealt with makes it possible to note and check the least deviation from the truth. the fact is present, right before the pupil, to rebuke him if he strays from it in thought or speech. and this circumstance may be utilized even in the humble beginnings of science teaching, in the so-called object-lessons. for instance, a bird, or the picture of one, is placed before the child. the teacher says, "observe closely and tell me exactly what you see--the length of the neck, the curve of the beak, the colors of the plumage," etc. the pupil replies. the teacher objects: "you have not observed accurately. the color is not what you describe it to be. look again. the curve of the beak does not resemble what you have just drawn on the blackboard. you must tell me exactly what you see. your words must tally with the facts." and the same sort of practice may be continued in the science-lessons of the upper classes. scientists are distinguished from other observers by their greater accuracy. intellectual honesty is that moral quality which science is best calculated to foster. all the great scientists have been haunted by a high ideal of truth, and a gleam of that ideal, however faint, may be made to shed its light even into the school-room. it is obvious that this realistic tutoring into veracity will be of special use to children who are led into lying by a too vivid imagination. let me add the following remarks in regard to indirect means of promoting truthfulness: the teacher can do a great deal to cultivate respect for the truth among his pupils by frankly admitting an error whenever he has fallen into one. some teachers try to save their dignity by glossing over their mistakes. but even young children are shrewd enough to estimate such trickery at its worth; while he who manfully confesses that he has been in the wrong, earns the respect of his class, and sets them an invaluable example. it is well also to observe strict accuracy even in matters which of themselves are of no moment. for instance, in giving an account of a botanizing expedition, you begin, perhaps, by saying, "it was half-past ten when we arrived at our destination." suddenly you stop and correct yourself. "no, i was mistaken; it could not have been later than ten o'clock." does this strike you as pedantic? but if you fix the time at all, is it not worth while to fix it with approximate exactness? true, it makes no difference in regard to what you are about to relate, whether you arrived at half-past ten or at ten. but, precisely because it makes no difference, it shows the value which you set on accuracy even in trifles. and by such little turns of phrase, by such insubstantial influences, coming from the teacher, the pupil's character is molded. _ ._ _the study of history_, when properly conducted is of high moral value. history sets before the mind examples of heroism, of self-sacrifice, of love of country, of devotion to principles at the greatest cost. how can such examples fail to inspire, to ennoble, to awaken emulation? the great and good men of the past, the virtuous and the wise, serve as models to the young, and often arouse in them an enthusiastic admiration, a passionate discipleship. in the next place, the study of history may be used to exercise the moral judgment. the characters which history presents are not all good; the characters even of the good are by no means faultless. it is in the power of the teacher to train the moral judgment and to increase the moral insight of his pupils by leading them to enter into the motives, and to weigh the right and wrong of the actions which history reports. he will also find many an occasion to warn against being dazzled by brilliant success to such a degree as to condone the moral turpitude by which it is often bought. the study of history can thus be made the means of enlightening the conscience as well as of awakening generous aspirations--but, let me hasten to add, only in the hands of a teacher who is himself morally mature, and fully imbued with the responsibilities of his task. lastly, the study of history among advanced pupils may be used to confirm the moral idea of the mission of mankind, and to set it in its true light. the human race, as, from the moral point of view, we are bound to assume, exists on earth in order to attempt the solution of a sublime problem--the problem of the perfect civilization, the just society, the "kingdom of god." but on every page of history there are facts that warn us that progress toward this high ideal is of necessity slow. whether we review the evolution of religion, or of political institutions, or of industrial society, we are still forced to the same solemn conclusion, that in view of the ultimate goal, "a thousand years are as a day," and that while we may not relax our efforts to attain the ideal, we must be well content in case we are permitted to advance the mighty work even a little. this conviction is calculated to engender in us a new spirit of piety and self-abnegation, which yet is consistent with perfect alacrity in discharging the duty of the hour. there could be no better result from the study of history among young men and young women than if it should have the effect of impressing on them this new piety, this genuine historic sense, in which the average citizen, especially of democratic communities, is so conspicuously deficient. but this is a digression which i must ask you to pardon. _ ._ the moral value of the _study of literature_ is as great as it is obvious. literature is the medium through which all that part of our inner life finds expression which defies scientific formulation. in the text-books of science we possess the net result of the purely intellectual labors of the past; in universal literature we have composite photographs, as it were, of the typical hopes, sentiments, and aspirations of the race. literature gives a voice to that within us which would otherwise remain dumb, and fixity to that which would otherwise be evanescent. the best literature, and especially the best poetry, is a glass in which we see our best selves reflected. there is a legend which tells of two spirits, the one an angel, the other a demon, that accompany every human being through life, and walk invisibly at his side. the one represents our bad self, the other our better self. the moral service which the best literature renders us is to make the invisible angel visible. _ ._ i can but cast a cursory glance at some of the remaining branches of instruction. _manual training_ has a moral effect upon the pupil, of which i have spoken at some length on another occasion.[ ] _music_, apart from its subtler influences, which can not be considered here, has the special function of producing in the pupil a feeling of oneness with others, or of social unity. this is best accomplished through the instrumentality of chorus singing, while particular moral sentiments, like charity, love of home, etc., can be inculcated by means of the texts. _gymnastic_ exercises likewise have a moral effect in promoting habits of self-control, prompt obedience at the word of command, etc. indeed, it is not difficult to show the moral bearings of the ordinary branches of instruction. it would, on the contrary, be difficult to find a single one, which, when rightly viewed, is not surrounded by a moral photosphere. science, history, literature, and the other branches lend themselves in various ways to the development of character. but there are certain other opportunities which every school offers, apart from the teaching, and these may be utilized to the same end. the discipline of the school, above all, has an immense effect on the character. if it is of the right kind, a beneficial effect; if not, a most pernicious one. the mere working of what may be called the school machinery tends to inculcate habits of order, punctuality, and the like. the aggregation of a large number of scholars in the same building and their intercourse with one another under the eye of the teachers, afford frequent opportunities for impressing lessons of kindness, politeness, mutual helpfulness, etc. the recitations of lessons give occasion not only to suppress prompting, but to eradicate the motives which lead to it, and to impress deeply the duty of honesty. the very atmosphere of the class-room should be such as to encourage moral refinement; it should possess a sunny climate, so to speak, in which meanness and vulgarity can not live. but there is especially one avenue of influence, which i have much at heart to recommend. the teacher should join in the _games_ of his pupils. he will thus at once come to stand on a friendly footing with them, and win their confidence, without in the least derogating from his proper dignity. and thus will be removed that barrier which in many schools separates pupils and teachers to such a degree that there actually seem to exist side by side two worlds--the world to which the teacher has access, and the world from which he is shut out. moreover, while they are at play, the true character of the pupils reveals itself. at such times the sneak, the cheat, the bully, the liar, shows his true colors, and the teacher has the best opportunity of studying these pathological subjects and of curing their moral defects. for, while playing with them, as one concerned in the game, he has the right to insist on fair dealing, to express his disgust at cowardice, to take the part of the weak against the strong, and his words spoken on the playground will have tenfold the effect of any hortatory address which he might deliver from the platform. the greatest and most successful of teachers have not disdained to use this device. finally, let me say that the personality of the master or principal of the school is the chief factor of moral influence in it. put a great, sound, whole-souled nature at the head of a school, and everything else may almost be taken for granted. in every school there exists a public opinion among the scholars, by which they are affected to a far greater degree than by the words of their superiors. the tactful master will direct his chief attention to shaping and improving this public opinion, while at the same time interfering as little as possible with the freedom of his pupils. he can accomplish his purpose by drawing close to himself those scholars who make the public opinion of the school, and these in turn he can win to fine and manly views only by the effect of his personality. the personality of the head-master is everything. it is the ultimate source of power in the school, the central organ which sends out its life-giving currents through the whole organism. and let me here add that, if i am in favor of excluding direct religious teaching from our schools, i am not in favor of excluding religious influence. that, too, flows from the personality of the true master. for if he be reverent, a truly pious soul, humble in his estimate of self, not valuing his petty schoolmaster's authority on its own account, but using it lovingly as an instrument for higher ends, he will be sure to communicate of his spirit to his pupils, and by that spirit will open their hearts, better than by any doctrinal teaching he could give, to the reception of the highest spiritual truths. by all these means--by the culture of the intellect, the taste, and the feelings, by his daily dealings with the young, in work and play--the teacher helps to create in them certain moral habits. why, then, should not these habits suffice? what need is there of specific moral instruction? and what is the relation of moral instruction to the habits thus engendered? the function of moral instruction is to clinch the habits. the function of moral instruction is to explicate in clear statements, fit to be grasped by the intellect, the laws of duty which underlie the habits. the value of such intellectual statements is that they give a rational underpinning to moral practice, and, furthermore, that they permit the moral rules to be applied to new cases not heretofore brought within the scope of habit. this thought will be more fully developed and explained as we proceed. footnote: [ ] in the address on the subject, reprinted in the appendix. iv. classification of duties. the topics of which moral instruction treats are the duties of life. to teach the duties, however, we must adopt some system of classification. to which system shall we give the preference? the difficulty which we encountered at the outset seems to meet us here in a new guise. for most if not all of the systems of classification commonly proposed are based upon some metaphysical theory or some theological doctrine. to adopt any one of these would be tantamount to adopting the theory or theology on which it is founded; would be equivalent to introducing surreptitiously a particular philosophy or creed into the minds of the pupils; and this would be a plain departure from the unsectarian principle to which we are pledged. thus, plato's fourfold division of the virtues into the so-called cardinal virtues of temperance, courage, justice, wisdom, is based on his psychology. aristotle's division of the virtues into dianoetic and what he calls ethical virtues is clearly dependent on what may be termed aristotle's intellectualism--i. e., the supreme importance which he assigns to the functions of the intellect, or [greek: nous], in the attainment of the perfect life. kant's division of duties into complete and incomplete is an outgrowth of the ideas developed in his critique of pure reason; the philosopher herbart's fivefold classification reflects his metaphysical theory of reality; while the systems of ethical classification which are to be found in theological handbooks betray still more clearly the bias of their authors. we can, i think, find a simple way out of this difficulty by proceeding in the following manner: let us take for our guidance the objects to which duty relates, and disregard the sources from which it flows. it is conceded on all hands that every one is to himself an object of duty, that he has certain duties to perform with respect to himself, as, for instance, the duty of intellectual development; furthermore, that every person owes certain duties to his fellow-men generally, in virtue of the fact that they are human beings; again, that there are special duties which we owe to particular persons, such as parents, brothers, and sisters; finally, that there are certain duties, into which, so to speak, we are born, like the ones last mentioned, and others which we can freely assume or not, like the conjugal duties, but which, once assumed, become as binding as the former. thus the very structure of human society suggests a scheme of classification. and this scheme has the advantage of being a purely objective one. it keeps close to the facts, it is in harmony with the unsectarian principle, and it is perfectly fair. it leaves the problem of first principles entirely untouched. that we have such duties to perform with respect to self and others, no one questions. let philosophers differ as to the ultimate motives of duty. let them reduce the facts of conscience to any set of first principles which may suit them. it is our part as instructors to interpret the facts of conscience, not to seek for them an ultimate explanation. let me briefly indicate how the different duties may be made to fall into line according to the plan of classification which has just been suggested. the whole field of duty may be divided into three main provinces:[ ] those duties which relate to ourselves, those which we owe to all men, and those which arise in the special relations of the family, the state, etc.: i. the self-regarding duties. these may again be subdivided into duties relating to our physical nature, to the intellect, and to the feelings. under the head of physical duties belong the prohibition of suicide, and the duties of physical culture, temperance, and chastity. intellectual duties.--under this head may be ranged the duty of acquiring knowledge and the subsidiary duties of order, diligence, perseverance in study; while, for those who are beyond the school age, special stress should be laid on the duty of mental genuineness. this may be expressed in the words: to thine own mental self be true. study thine own mental bent. try to discover in what direction thy proper talent lies, and make the most of it. work thine own mine: if it be a gold-mine, bring forth gold; if it be a silver-mine, bring forth silver; if it be an iron-mine, bring forth iron. endeavor to master some one branch of knowledge thoroughly well. it is for thee the key which opens the gates of all knowledge. the need of general culture is felt by all, but the concentration of intellectual efforts on special studies is not inconsistent with it. on the contrary, special studies alone enable us to gain a foothold in the realm of knowledge. a branch of knowledge which we have mastered, however small, may be compared to a strong fortress in an enemy's country, from which we can sally forth at will to conquer the surrounding territory. knowledge may also be likened to a sphere. from every point of the circumference we can, by persistent labor, dig down to the center. he who has reached the center commands the sphere. duties which relate to the feelings.--the principal duty under this head may be expressed in the twofold command--control and purify thy feelings! the feelings which need to be repressed are anger, fear, self-complacency. let the teacher, when he reaches this point, dwell upon the causes and the consequences of anger. let him speak of certain helps which have been found useful for the suppression of angry passion. let him distinguish anger from moral indignation. in dealing with fear let him pursue the same method. let him distinguish physical from moral cowardice, brute courage from moral courage, courage from fortitude. in dealing with self-complacency let him discriminate between vanity and pride, between pride and dignity. let him show that humility and dignity are consistent with one another, yes, that they are complementary aspects of one and the same moral quality. not the least advantage to be reaped from lessons on duty is the fixing in the pupil's mind of the moral vocabulary. the moral terms as a rule are loosely used, and this can not but lead to confusion in their application. precise definitions, based on thorough discussion, are an excellent means of moral training.[ ] ii. the duties which we owe to all men are justice and charity: be just is equivalent to--do not hinder the development of any of thy fellow-men. be charitable is equivalent to--assist the development of thy fellow-men. under the head of charity the teacher will have occasion to speak not only of almsgiving, the visitation of the sick, and the like, but of the thousand charities of the fireside, of the charity of bright looks, of what may be called intellectual charity, which consists in opening the eyes of the mentally blind, and of the noblest charity of all, which consists in coming to the aid of those who are deep in the slough of moral despond, in raising the sinful and fallen. iii. special social duties: under this head belong the duties which arise in the family: the conjugal, the parental, the filial, the fraternal duties. under the head of duties peculiar to the various avocations should be discussed the ethics of the professions, the ethics of the relations between employers and laborers, etc. the consideration of the duties of the citizen opens up the whole territory of political ethics. lastly, the purely elective relationships of friendship and religious fellowship give rise to certain fine and lofty ethical conceptions, the discussion of which may fitly crown the whole course. i have thus mentioned some of the main topics of practical ethics, from which we are to make our selection for the moral lessons. but a selective principle is needed. the field being spread out before us, the question arises, at what point shall we enter it? what topics shall we single out? it would be manifestly absurd, for instance, to treat of international ethics, or of conjugal ethics, in a course intended for children. but especially the order in which the different topics are to follow each other needs to be determined. the order followed in the above sketch is a purely logical one, and the logical arrangement of a subject, as every educator knows, is not usually the one most suitable for bringing it within reach of the understanding of children. it would not be in the present instance. clearly a selective principle is wanted. let me here interrupt myself for a moment to say that the problem which we are attacking, so far from being solved, has heretofore hardly even been stated. and this is due to the fact that moral instruction has been thus far almost entirely in the hands of persons whose chief interest was religious, and who, whatever their good intentions might be, were hardly qualified to look at the subject from the educator's point of view. the work of breaking ground in the matter of moral instruction has still to be done. as to the selective principle which i have in view i feel a certain confidence in its correctness; but i am aware that the applications of it will doubtless require manifold amendment and correction, for which purpose i invoke the experience and honest criticism of my fellow-teachers. this being understood, i venture to ask your attention to the following considerations: the life of every human being naturally divides itself into distinct periods--infancy, childhood, youth, etc. each period has a set of interests and of corresponding duties peculiar to itself. the moral teaching should be graded according to periods. the teaching appropriate to any period is that which bears upon the special duties of that period. to illustrate, the ethics of childhood may be summarized as follows: the personal duties of a child are chiefly the observance of a few simple rules of health and the curbing of its temper. it owes social duties to parents, brothers and sisters, and kinsfolk, to its playmates, and to servants. the child is not yet a citizen, and the ethics of politics, therefore, lie far beyond its horizon; it does not yet require to be taught professional ethics, and does not need to learn even the elements of intellectual duty, because its energies are still absorbed in physical growth and play. the duties of childhood can be readily stated. the peculiar duties of the subsequent stages of development, for instance, of middle life and old age, are complex, and not so easy to define. but i believe that the attempt to describe them will throw light on many recondite problems in ethics. my first point therefore is, that the moral teaching at a given period should be made to fit the special duties of that period. secondly--and this touches the core of the matter--in every period of life there is some one predominant duty around which all the others may be grouped, to which as a center they may be referred. thus, the paramount duty of the young child is to reverence and obey its parents. the relation of dependence in which it stands naturally prescribes this duty, and all its other duties can be deduced from and fortified by this one. the correctness of its personal habits and of its behavior toward others depends primarily on its obedience to the parental commands. the child resists the temptation to do what is wrong, chiefly because it respects the authority and desires to win the approbation of father and mother. secondary motives are not wanting, but reverence for parents is the principal one. thirdly, in each new period there emerges a new paramount ethical interest, a new center of duties. but with the new system of duties thus created the previous ethical systems are to be brought into line, into harmonious correlation. and this will be all the more feasible, because the faithful performance of the duties of any one period is the best preparation for the true understanding and fulfillment of those of the next. from these statements the following conclusions may be drawn with respect to the question under discussion--namely, the proper sequence of the topics of duty in a course of moral lessons. the moral lessons being given in school, must cover the duties which are peculiar to the school age. the paramount duty should be placed in the foreground. now the paramount duty of children between six and fourteen years of age is to acquire knowledge. hence we begin the lessons with the subject of intellectual duty. in the next place, the duties learned in the previous periods are to be brought into line with the duties of the school age. at each new step on the road of ethical progress the moral ideas already acquired are to be reviewed, confirmed, and to receive a higher interpretation. we have already seen that, before the child enters school, its personal duties are such as relate to the physical life and the feelings, and its chief social duties are the filial and fraternal. therefore, the order of topics for the lessons thus far stands: the duty of acquiring knowledge; the duties which relate to the physical life; the duties which relate to the feelings; the filial duties; the fraternal duties. again, a child that has learned to respect the rights of its brothers and sisters, and to be lovingly helpful to them, will in school take the right attitude toward its companions. the fraternal duties are typical of the duties which we owe to all our companions, and, indeed, to all human beings. the next topic of the lessons, therefore, will be the duties which we owe to all human beings. finally, life in school prepares for life in society and in the state, and so this course of elementary moral lesson will properly close with "the elements of civic duty." footnotes: [ ] it may be urged by some that duties toward god ought to be included in such a scheme of moral lessons as we are proposing. i should say, however, that the discussion of these duties belongs to the sunday-schools, the existence of which alongside the daily schools is _presupposed throughout the present course of lectures_. [ ] the duties which relate to the moral nature, as a whole, such for instance as the duty of self-scrutiny, may be considered either at the end of the chapter on self-regarding duties, or at the close of the whole course. v. the moral outfit of children on entering school. it is difficult to trace the beginnings of the moral life in children. the traveler who attempts to follow some great river to its source generally finds himself confused by the number of ponds and springs which are pointed out to him with the assurance in the case of each that this and no other is the real source. in truth, the river is fed not from one source but from many, and does not attain its unity and individuality until it has flowed for some distance on its way. in like manner, the moral life is fed by many springs, and does not assume its distinctive character until after several years of human existence have elapsed. the study of the development of conscience in early childhood is a study of origins, and these are always obscure. but, besides, the attention hitherto given to this subject has been entirely inadequate, and even the attempts to observe in a systematic way the moral manifestations of childhood have been few. parents and teachers should endeavor to answer such questions as these: when do the first stirrings of the moral sense appear in the child? how do they manifest themselves? what are the emotional and the intellectual equipments of the child at different periods, and how do these correspond with its moral outfit? at what time does conscience enter on the scene? to what acts or omissions does the child apply the terms right and wrong? if observations of this kind were made with care and duly recorded, the science of education would have at its disposal a considerable quantity of material from which no doubt valuable generalizations might be deduced. every mother especially should keep a diary in which to note the successive phases of her child's physical, mental, and moral growth; with particular attention to the moral; so that parents may be enabled to make a timely forecast of their childrens' characters, to foster in them every germ of good, and by prompt precautions to suppress, or at least restrain, what is bad. i propose in the present lecture to cast a glance at the moral training which the normal child receives before it enters school, and the moral outfit which it may be expected to bring with it at the time of entering. fortunately, it is not necessary to go very deeply into the study of development of conscience for this purpose. a few main points will suffice for our guidance. _first point._--the moral training of a child can be begun in its cradle. regularity is favorable to morality. regularity acts as a check on impulse. a child should receive its nourishment at stated intervals; it should become accustomed to sleep at certain hours, etc. if it protests, as it often does vigorously enough, its protests should be disregarded. after a while its cries will cease, it will learn to submit to the rule imposed, and the taking of pleasure in regularity and the sense of discomfort when the usual order is interrupted become thenceforth a part of its mental life. i do not maintain that regularity itself is moral, but that it is favorable to morality because it curbs inclination. i do not say that rules are always good, but that the life of impulse is always bad. even when we do the good in an impulsive way we are encouraging in ourselves a vicious habit. good conduct consists in regulating our life according to good principles; and a willingness to abide by rules is the first, the indispensable condition of moral growth. now, the habit of yielding to rules may be implanted in a child even in the cradle. _second point._--a very young child--one not older than a year and a half--can be taught to obey, to yield to the parent's will. a child a year and a half old is capable of adhering to its own will in defiance of the expressed will of father or mother. in this case it should be constrained to yield. we shall never succeed in making of it a moral person if it does not realize betimes that there exists a higher law than the law of its will. and of this higher law, throughout childhood, the parent is, as it were, the embodiment. when i say that obedience can be exacted of a child of such tender age, that a child so young is capable of deliberately opposing the will of the parent, i speak from experience. i know a certain little lady who undertook a struggle with her father precisely in the way described. the struggle lasted fully thirty-five minutes by the clock. but when it was over, the child stretched out her little arms and put up her lips to be kissed, and for days after fairly clung to her father, showing him her attachment in the most demonstrative manner. nor should this increase of affectionateness excite surprise--it is the proper result of a conflict of this sort between father and child when conducted in the right spirit. the child is happy to be freed from the sway of its wayward caprice, to feel that its feeble will has been taken up into a will larger and stronger than its own. _third point._--what is called conscience does not usually begin to show itself until the child is about three years old. at this age the concept self usually emerges, and the child begins to use the personal pronoun i. this is one of these critical turning points in human development, of which there are several. the beginning of adolescence marks another. i am inclined to suspect that there is one at or about thirty-three. there seem to be others later on. at any rate the first turning point--that which occurs at three--is marked unmistakably. at this time, as we have just said, the child begins to be distinctly self-conscious; it says "i," and presently "you," "he," and "they." now, moral rules formulate the relations which ought to subsist between one's self and others, and to comprehend the rules it is clearly necessary to be able to hold apart in the mind and to contrast with one another the persons related. it is evident, therefore, that the emergence of the concept self must have a decided effect on moral development. i feel tempted to pause here a moment and to say a word in passing about the extreme importance of the constituent elements of the concept self. for it must not be supposed that the pronoun "i" means the same thing on the lips of every person who uses it. "i" is a label denoting a mass of associated ideas, and as these ideas are capable of almost endless variation, so the notion of selfhood is correspondingly diversified in different individuals. in the case of children, perhaps the principal constituents of the concept are supplied by their outward appearance and environment. when a child speaks of itself, it thinks primarily of its body, especially its face, then of the clothes it usually wears, the house it lives in, the streets through which it habitually walks, its parents, brothers, sisters, school-masters, etc.[ ] if we analyze the meaning of "i" in the case of two children, the one well-born and well brought up, the other without these advantages, we shall perhaps find such differences as the following: "i" in the one case will mean a being living in a certain decent and comfortable house, always wearing neat clothing, surrounded by parents, brothers, and sisters who speak kindly to one another and have gentle manners, etc. in the other case, the constituents of the concept self may be very different. "i" in the case of the second child may mean a creature that lives in a dark, filthy hovel and walks every day through narrow streets, reeking with garbage. "i" may mean the child of a father who comes home drunk and strikes the mother when the angry fit is upon him. "i" stands for a poor waif that wears torn clothes, and when he sits in school by the side of well-dressed children is looked at askance and put to shame. it is obvious that the elements which go to make up the concept self affect the child's moral nature by lowering or raising its self-esteem. i remember the case of one, who as a boy was the laughing-stock of his class on account of the old-fashioned, ill-fitting clothes which he was compelled to wear, and who has confessed that even late in life he could not entirely overcome the effect of this early humiliation, and that he continued to be painfully aware in himself, in consequence, of a certain lack of ease and self-possession. hence we should see to it that the constituent elements of the concept self are of the right kind. it is a mistake to suppose that the idea of selfhood stands off independently from the elements of our environment. the latter enter into, and when they are bad eat into, the very kernel of our nature. we have seen that the development of the intellect as it appears in the growing distinctness of self-consciousness exercises an important influence on the development of the moral faculty. but there is still another way in which this influence becomes apparent. the function of conscience further depends on the power of keeping alternative courses of action before the mind. angels capable only of the good, or fiends actuated exclusively by malice, could not be called moral creatures. a moral act always presupposes a previous choice between two possible lines of action. and until the power of holding the judgment in suspense, of hesitating between alternative lines of conduct, has been acquired, conscience, strictly speaking, does not manifest itself. we may say that the voice of conscience begins to be heard when, the parent being absent, the child hesitates between a forbidden pleasure and obedience to the parental command. of course, not every choice between alternative courses is a moral act. if any one hesitates whether to remain at home or to go for a walk, whether to take a road to the right or to the left, the decision is morally indifferent. but whenever one of the alternative courses is good and the other bad, conscience does come into play. at this point, however, the question forcibly presents itself, how does it come to pass in the experience of children that they learn to regard certain lines of action as good and others as bad? you will readily answer, the parent characterizes certain acts as good and others as bad, and the child accepts his definition; and this is undoubtedly true. the parent's word is the main prop of the budding conscience. but how comes the parent's word to produce belief? this is indeed the crucial question touching the development of the moral faculty. mr. bain says that the child fears the punishment which the parent will inflict in case of disobedience; that the essential form and defining quality of conscience from first to last is of the nature of dread. he seems to classify the child's conscience with the criminal conscience, the rebel conscience which must be energized by the fear of penalties. but this explanation seems very unsatisfactory. every one, of course, must admit that the confirmations of experience tend greatly to strengthen the parent's authority. the parent says, you must be neat. the child, if it does as it is bidden, finds an æsthetic pleasure in its becoming appearance. the parent says, you must not strike your little brother, but be kind to him; and the child, on restraining its anger, is gratified by the loving words and looks which it receives in return. the parent says, you must not touch the stove, or you will be burned. the disobedient child is effectually warned by the pain it suffers to be more obedient in future. but all such confirmations are mere external aids to parental authority. they do not explain the feeling of reverence with which even a young child, when rightly brought up, is wont to look up to his father's face. to explain this sentiment of reverence, i must ask you to consider the following train of reasoning. it has been remarked already that the parent should be to the child the visible embodiment of a higher law. this higher law shining from the father's countenance, making its sublime presence felt in the mother's eye, wakens an answering vibration in the child's heart. the child feels the higher presence and bows to it, though it could not, if it tried, analyze or explain what it feels. we should never forget that children possess the capacity for moral development from the outset. it is indeed the fashion with some modern writers to speak of the child as if it were at first a mere animal, and as if reflection and morality were mechanically superadded later on. but the whole future man is already hidden, not yet declared, but latent all the same in the child's heart. the germs of humanity in its totality exist in the young being. else how could it ever unfold into full-grown morality? it will perhaps serve to make my meaning clearer if i call attention to analogous facts relating to the intellectual faculty. the formula of causality is a very abstract one, which only a thoroughly trained mind can grasp. but even very young children are constantly asking questions as to the causes of things. what makes the trees grow? what makes the stars shine?--i. e., what is the cause of the trees growing and the stars shining? the child is constantly pushing, or rather groping, its way back from effects to causes. the child's mind acts under what maybe called the causative instinct long before it can apprehend the law of causation. in the same way young children perfectly follow the process of syllogistic reasoning. if a father says, on leaving the house for a walk: i can take with me only a child that has been good; now, you have not been good to-day; the child without any difficulty draws the conclusion, therefore i can not go out walking with my father to-day. the logical laws are, as it were, prefigured in the child's mind long before, under the chemical action of experience they come out in the bright colors of consciousness. or, to use another figure, they exert a pressure on the child of which he himself can give no account. and in like manner the moral law--the law which prescribes certain relations between self and others--is, so to speak, prefigured in the child's mind, and when it is expressed in commands uttered by the parent, the pressure of external authority is confirmed by a pressure coming from within. we can illustrate the same idea from another point of view. whenever a man of commanding moral genius appears in the world and speaks to the multitude from his height, they are for the moment lifted to his level and feel the afflatus of his spirit. this is so because he expresses potentialities of human nature which also exist in them, only not unfolded to the same degree as in him. it is a matter of common observation that persons who under ordinary circumstances are content to admire what is third rate and fourth rate are yet able to appreciate what is first rate when it is presented to them--at least to the extent of recognizing that it is first rate. and yet their lack of development shows itself in the fact that presently they again lose their hold on the higher standard of excellence, and are thereafter content to put up with what is inferior as if the glimpses of better things had never been opened to them. is it not because, though capable of rising to the higher level, they are not capable of maintaining themselves on it unassisted. now, the case of the parent with respect to the child is analogous. he is on a superior moral plane. the child feels that he is, without being able to understand why. it feels the afflatus of the higher spirit dwelling in the parent, and out of this feeling is generated the sentiment of reverence. and there is no greater benefit which father or mother can confer on their offspring than to deepen this sentiment. it is by this means that they can most efficiently promote the development of the child's conscience, for out of this reverence will grow eventually respect for all rightly constituted authority, respect and reverence for law, human and divine. the essential form and defining quality of conscience is not, therefore, as bain has it--fear of punishment. in my opinion such fear is abject and cowardly. the sentiment engendered by fear is totally different from the one we are contemplating, as the following consideration will serve to show: a child fears its father when he punishes it in anger; and the more violent his passion, the more does the child fear him. but, no matter how stern the penalty may be which he has to inflict, the child reveres its father in proportion as the traces of anger are banished from his mien and bearing, in proportion as the parent shows by his manner that he acts from a sense of duty, that he has his eye fixed on the sacred measures of right and wrong, that he himself stands in awe of the sublime commands of which he is, for the time being, the exponent. to recapitulate briefly the points which we have gone over: regular habits can be inculcated and obedience can be taught even in infancy. by obedience is meant the yielding of a wayward and ignorant will to a firm and enlightened one. the child between three and six years of age learns clearly to distinguish self from others, and to deliberate between alternative courses of action. it is highly important to control the elements which enter into the concept self. the desire to choose the good is promoted chiefly by the sentiment of reverence. we are thus prepared to describe in a general way the moral outfit of the child on entering school. we have, indeed, already described it. the moral acquirements of the child at the age of which we speak express themselves in habits. the normal child, under the influences of parental example and command, has acquired such habits as that of personal cleanliness, of temperance in eating, of respect for the truth. having learned to use the pronouns i and thou, it also begins to understand the difference between _meum_ and _tuum_. the property sense begins to be developed. it claims its own seat at table, its own toys against the aggression of others. it has gained in an elementary way the notion of rights. this is a stock of acquirements by no means inconsiderable. the next step in the progress of conscience must be taken in the school. until now the child has been aware of duties relating only or principally to persons whom it loves and who love it. the motive of love is now to become less prominent. a part of that reverence which the child has felt for the parents whom it loves is now to be transferred to the teacher. a part of that respect for the rights of equals which has been impressed upon it in its intercourse with brothers and sisters, to whom it is bound by the ties of blood, is now to be transferred to its school companions, who are at first strangers to it. thus the conscience of the child will be expanded, thus it will be prepared for intercourse with the world. thus it will begin to gain that higher understanding of morality, according to which authority is to be obeyed simply because it is rightful, and equals are to be treated as equals, even when they are not and can not be regarded with affection. i have in the above used the word habits advisedly. the morality of the young child assumes the concrete form of habits; abstract principles are still beyond its grasp. habits are acquired by imitation and repetition. good examples must be so persistently presented and so often copied that the line of moral conduct may become the line of least resistance. the example of parents and teachers is indeed specially important in this respect. but after all it is not sufficient. for the temptations of adults differ in many ways from those of children, and on the other hand in the lives of older persons occasions are often wanting for illustrating just the peculiar virtues of childhood. on this account it is necessary to set before the child ideal examples of the virtues of children and of the particular temptations, against which they need to be warned. of such examples we find a large stock ready to hand in the literature of fairy tales, fables, and stories. in our next lecture therefore we shall begin to consider the use of fairy tales, fables, and stories as means of creating in children those habits which are essential to the safe guarding and unfolding of their moral life. footnote: [ ] so important is environment in supporting self-consciousness, that even adults, when suddenly transported into entirely new surroundings, often experience a momentary doubt as to their identity. primary course. vi. the use of fairy tales. there has been and still is considerable difference of opinion among educators as to the value of fairy tales. i venture to think that, as in many other cases, the cause of the quarrel is what logicians call an _undistributed middle_--in other words, that the parties to the dispute have each a different kind of fairy tale in mind. this species of literature can be divided broadly into two classes--one consisting of tales which ought to be rejected because they are really harmful, and children ought to be protected from their bad influence, the other of tales which have a most beautiful and elevating effect, and which we can not possibly afford to leave unutilized. the chief pedagogic value they possess is that they exercise and cultivate the imagination. now, the imagination is a most powerful auxiliary in the development of the mind and will. the familiar anecdote related of marie antoinette, who is said to have asked why the people did not eat cake when she was told that they were in want of bread, indicates a deficiency of imagination. brought up amid the splendor of courts, surrounded by luxury, she could not put herself in the place of those who lack the very necessaries. much of the selfishness of the world is due not to actual hard-heartedness, but to a similar lack of imaginative power. it is difficult for the happy to realize the needs of the miserable. did they realize those needs, they would in many cases be melted to pity and roused to help. the faculty of putting one's self in the place of others is therefore of great, though indirect, service to the cause of morality, and this faculty may be cultivated by means of fairy tales. as they follow intently the progress of the story, the young listeners are constantly called upon to place themselves in the situations in which they have never been, to imagine trials, dangers, difficulties, such as they have never experienced, to reproduce in themselves, for instance, such feelings as that of being alone in the wide world, of being separated from father's and mother's love, of being hungry and without bread, exposed to enemies without protection, etc. thus their sympathy in a variety of forms is aroused. in the next place, fairy tales stimulate the idealizing tendency. what were life worth without ideals! how could hope or even religion germinate in the human heart were we not able to confront the disappointing present with visions which represent the fulfillment of our desires. "faith," says paul, "is the confidence of things hoped for, the certainty of things not seen." thus faith itself can not abide unless supported by a vivid idealism. it is true, the ideals of childhood are childish. in the story called das marienkind we hear of the little daughter of a poor wood-cutter who was taken up bodily into heaven. there she ate sweetmeats and drank cream every day and wore dresses made of gold, and the angels played with her. sweetmeats and cream in plenty and golden dresses and dear little angels to play with may represent the ideals of a young child, and these are materialistic enough. but i hold nevertheless that something--nay, much--has been gained if a child has learned to take the wishes out of its heart, as it were, and to project them on the screen of fancy. as it grows up to manhood, the wishes will become more spiritual, and the ideals, too, will become correspondingly elevated. in speaking of fairy tales i have in mind chiefly the german _märchen_ of which the word fairy tale is but an inaccurate rendering. the _märchen_ are more than mere tales of helpful fairies. they have, as is well-known, a mythological background. they still bear distinct traces of ancient animism, and the myths which center about the phenomena of the storm, the battle of the sun with the clouds, the struggle of the fair spring god with the dark winter demons, are in them leading themes. but what originally was the outgrowth of superstition has now, to a great extent at least, been purified of its dross and converted into mere poetry. the _märchen_ come to us from a time when the world was young. they represent the childhood of mankind, and it is for this reason that they never cease to appeal to children. the _märchen_ have a subtile flavor all their own. they are pervaded by the poetry of forest life, are full of the sense of mystery and awe, which is apt to overcome one on penetrating deeper and deeper into the woods, away from human habitations. the _märchen_ deal with the underground life of nature, which weaves in caverns and in the heart of mountains, where gnomes and dwarfs are at work gathering hidden treasures. and with this underground life children have a marvelous sympathy. the _märchen_ present glowing pictures of sheltered firesides, where man finds rest and security from howling winds and nipping cold. but perhaps their chief attraction is due to their representing the child as living in brotherly fellowship with nature and all creatures. trees, flowers, animals wild and tame, even the stars, are represented as the comrades of children. that animals are only human beings in disguise is an axiom in the fairy tales. animals are humanized--i. e., the kinship between animal and human life is still strongly felt, and this reminds us of those early animistic interpretations of nature, which subsequently led to doctrines of metempsychosis. plants, too, are often represented as incarnations of human spirits. thus the twelve lilies are inhabited by the twelve brothers, and in the story of snow-white and rose-red the life of the two maidens appears to be bound up with the life of the white and red rosebush. the kinship of all life whatsoever is still realized. this being so, it is not surprising that men should understand the language of animals, and that these should interfere to protect the heroes and heroines of the _märchen_ from threatened dangers. in the story of the faithful servant john, the three ravens flying above the ship reveal the secret of the red horse, the sulphurous shirt, and the three drops of blood, and john, who understands their communications, is thereby enabled to save his master's life. what, again, can be more beautiful than the way in which the tree and the two white doves co-operate to secure the happiness of the injured cinderella! the tree rains down the golden dresses with which she appears at the ball, and the doves continue to warn the prince as he rides by that he has chosen the wrong bride until cinderella herself passes, when they light on her shoulders, one on her right and the other on her left, making, perhaps, the loveliest picture to be found in all fairy lore. the child still lives in unbroken communion with the whole of nature; the harmony between its own life and the enveloping life has not yet been disturbed, and it is this harmony of the human with the natural world that reflects itself in the atmosphere of the _märchen_, and makes them so admirably suited to satisfy the heart of childhood. but how shall we handle these _märchen_ and what method shall we employ in putting them to account for our special purpose? i have a few thoughts on this subject, which i shall venture to submit in the form of counsels. my _first counsel_ is: tell the story; do not give it to the child to read. there is an obvious practical reason for this. children are able to benefit by hearing fairy tales before they can read. but that is not the only reason. it is the childhood of the race, as we have seen, that speaks in the fairy story to the child of to-day. it is the voice of an ancient, far-off past that echoes from the lips of the story-teller. the words "once upon a time" open up a vague retrospect into the past, and the child gets its first indistinct notions of history in this way. the stories embody the tradition of the childhood of mankind. they have on this account an authority all their own, not indeed that of literal truth, but one derived from their being types of certain feelings and longings which belong to childhood as such. the child as it listens to the _märchen_, looks up with wide-opened eyes to the face of the person who tells the story, and thrills responsive as the touch of the earlier life of the race thus falls upon its own. such an effect, of course, can not be produced by cold type. tradition is a living thing, and should use the living voice for its vehicle. my _second counsel_ is also of a practical nature, and i make bold to say quite essential to the successful use of the stories. do not take the moral plum out of the fairy-tale pudding, but let the child enjoy it as a whole. do not make the story taper toward a single point, the moral point. you will squeeze all the juice out of it if you try. do not subordinate the purely fanciful and naturalistic elements of the story, such as the love of mystery, the passion for roving, the sense of fellowship with the animal world, in order to fix attention solely on the moral element. on the contrary, you will gain the best moral effect by proceeding in exactly the opposite way. treat the moral element as an incident; emphasize, it indeed, but incidentally. pluck it as a wayside flower. how often does it happen that, having set out on a journey with a distinct object in mind, something occurs on the way which we had not foreseen, but which in the end leaves the deepest impression on the mind. the object which we had in view is long forgotten, but the incident which happened by the way is remembered for years after. so the moral result of the _märchen_ will not be less sure because gained incidentally. an illustration will make plain what i mean. in the story of the frog king we are told that there was once a young princess who was so beautiful that even the sun, which sees a great many things, had never seen anything so beautiful as she was. a golden ball was her favorite plaything. one day, as she sat by a well under an old linden tree, she tossed the ball into the air and it fell into the well. she was very unhappy, and cried bitterly. presently a frog put his ugly head out of the water, and offered to dive for the ball, on condition, however, that she would promise to take him for her playmate, to let him eat off her golden plate and drink out of her golden cup and sleep in her little snow-white bed. the princess promised everything. but no sooner had the frog brought her the ball than she scampered away, heedless of his cries. the next day as the royal family sat at dinner a knock was heard at the door. the princess opened and beheld the ugly toad claiming admittance. she screamed with fright and hastily shut the door in his face. but when the king, her father, had questioned her, he said, "what you have promised, you must keep"; and she obeyed her father, though it was sorely against her inclination to do so. that was right, children, was it not? one must always obey, even if one does not like what one is told to do. so the toad was brought in and lifted to the table, and he ate off the little golden plate and drank out of the golden cup. and when he had had enough, he said, "i am tired now, put me into your little snow-white bed." and again when she refused her father said: "what you have promised you must keep. ugly though he is, he helped you when you were in distress, and you must not despise him now." and the upshot of the story is that the ugly toad, having been thrown against the wall, was changed into a beautiful prince, and of course some time after the prince and the princess were married. the naturalistic element of the story is the changing of the prince into a toad and back again from a toad into a prince. children are very fond of disguises. it is one of their greatest pleasures to imagine things to be other than they are. and one of the chief attractions of such stories as the one we have related is that they cater to the fondness of the little folks for this sort of masquerading. the moral elements of the story are obvious. they should be touched on in such a manner as not to divert the interest from the main story. my _third counsel_ is to eliminate from the stories whatever is merely superstitious, merely a relic of ancient animism, and of course whatever is objectionable on moral grounds. for instance, such a story as that of the idle spinner, the purport of which seems to be that there is a special providence watching over lazy people. likewise all those stories which turn upon the success of trickery and cunning. a special question arising under this head, and one which has been the subject of much vexed discussion, is in how far we should acquaint children with the existence of evil in the world, and to what extent we can use stories in which evil beings and evil motives are introduced. my own view is that we should speak in the child's hearing only of those lesser forms of evil, physical or moral, with which it is already acquainted, but exclude all those forms of evil which lie beyond its present experience. on this ground i should reject the whole brood of step-mother stories, or rather, as this might make too wide a swath, i should take the liberty of altering stories in which the typical bad step-mother occurs, but which are otherwise valuable. there is no reason why children should be taught to look on step-mothers in general as evilly disposed persons. the same applies to stories in which unnatural fathers are mentioned. i should also rule out such stories as that of the wolf and the seven little goats. the mother goat, on leaving the house, warns her little ones against the wolf, and gives them two signs by which they can detect him--his hoarse voice and black paws. the wolf knocks and finds himself discovered. he thereupon swallows chalk to improve his voice and compels the miller to whiten his paws. then he knocks again, is admitted, leaps into the room, and devours the little goats one by one. the story, as used in the nursery, has a transparent purpose. it is intended to warn little children who are left at home alone against admitting strangers. the wolf represents evil beings in general--tramps, burglars, people who come to kidnap children, etc. now i, for one, should not wish to implant this fear of strangers into the minds of the young. fear is demoralizing. children should look with confidence and trust upon all men. they need not be taught to fear robbers and burglars. even the sight of wild animals need not awaken dread. children naturally admire the beauty of the tiger's skin, and the lion in their eyes is a noble creature, of whose ferocity they have no conception. it is time enough for them later on to familiarize themselves with the fact that evil of a sinister sort exists within human society and outside of it. and it will be safe for them to face this fact then only, when they can couple with it the conviction that the forces of right and order in the world are strong enough to grapple with the sinister powers and hold them in subjection. and now let us review a number of the _märchen_ against which none of these objections lie, which are delicious food for children's minds, and consider the place they occupy in a scheme of moral training. it has been already stated that each period of human life has a set of duties peculiar to itself. the principal duties of childhood are: obedience to parents, love and kindness toward brothers and sisters, a proper regard for the feelings of servants, and kindness toward animals. we can classify the fairy tales which we can use under these various heads. let us begin with the topic last mentioned. _tales illustrating kindness toward animals._ the house in the woods.--the daughter of a poor wood-cutter is lost in the woods, and comes at night to a lonely house. an old man is sitting within. three animals--a cow, a cock, and a chicken--lie on the hearth. the child is made welcome, and is asked to prepare supper. she cooks for the old man and herself, but forgets the animals. the second daughter likewise goes astray in the woods, comes to the same house, and acts in the same way. the third daughter, a sweet, loving child, before sitting down to her own meal, brings in hay for the cow and barley for the cock and chicken, and by this act of kindness to animals breaks the spell which had been cast upon the house. the old man is immediately transformed into a prince, etc. the story of the dog sultan.--sultan is old, and about to be shot by his master. the wolf, seeing his cousin the dog in such distress, promises to help him. he arranges that on the morrow he will seize a sheep belonging to sultan's master. the dog is to run after him, and he, the wolf, will drop the sheep and sultan shall get the credit of the rescue. everything passes off as prearranged, and sultan's life is spared by his grateful owner. some time after the wolf comes prowling around the house, and, reminding his friend that one good turn deserves another, declares that he has now come for mutton in good earnest. but the dog replies that nothing can tempt him to betray the interests of his master. the wolf persists, but sultan gives the alarm and the thief receives his due in the shape of a sound beating. the point of special interest in the beautiful story of snow-white and rose-red above referred to is the incident of the bear. one cold winter's night some one knocks at the door. snow-white and rose-red go to open, when a huge black bear appears at the entrance and begs for shelter. he is almost frozen with the cold, he says, and would like to warm himself a bit. the two little girls are at first frightened, but, encouraged by their mother, they take heart and invite the bear into the kitchen. soon a cordial friendship springs up between bruin and the children. they brush the snow from his fur, tease, and caress him by turns. after this the bear returns every night, and finally turns out to be a beautiful prince. the story of the queen bee tells about three brothers who wander through the world in search of adventures. one day they come to an ant-hill. the two older brothers are about to trample upon the ants "just for the fun of it." but the youngest pleads with them, saying: "let them live; their life is as dear to them as ours is to us." next they come to a pond in which many ducks are swimming about. the two older brothers are determined to shoot the ducks "just for the fun of it." the youngest again pleads as before, "let them live," etc. finally, he saves a bee-hive from destruction in the same manner. thus they journey on until they come to an enchanted castle. to break the spell, it is necessary to find and gather up a thousand pearls which had fallen on the moss-covered ground in a certain wood. five thousand ants come to help the youngest to find the pearls. the second task imposed is to find a golden key which had been thrown into a pond near the castle. the grateful ducks bring up the key from the bottom. the third task is the most difficult. in one of the interior chambers of the castle there are three marble images--three princesses, namely, who had been turned into stone. before the spell took effect they had partaken, respectively, of sugar, sirup, and honey. to restore them to life it is necessary to discover which one had eaten the honey. the queen bee comes in with all her swarm and lights on the lips of the youngest and so solves the problem. the enchantment is immediately dissolved. all these stories illustrate kindness to animals. among stories which illustrate the _respect due to the feelings of servants_ may be mentioned the tale of faithful john, who understood the language of the ravens and saved his master from the dangers of the red horse, etc., a story which in addition impresses the lesson that we should confide in persons who have been found trustworthy, even if we do not understand their motives. in the popular tale of cinderella the points especially to be noted are: the pious devotion of cinderella to her mother's memory, and the fact that the poor kitchen drudge, underneath the grime and ashes which disfigure her, possesses qualities which raise her far above the proud daughters of the house. the lesson taught by this story that we should distinguish intrinsic worth from the accidents of rank and condition, is one which can not be impressed too early or too deeply. under the heading of _brotherly and sisterly love_ belongs the lovely tale of snow-white. the little dwarfs are to all intents and purposes her brothers. they receive and treat her as a sister, and she returns their affection in kind. the story of the twelve brothers, whom their sister redeems by seven years of silence at the peril of her own life, is another instance of tenderest sisterly devotion combined with self-control. this story, however, needs to be slightly altered. in place of the cruel father (we must not mention cruel fathers) who has got ready twelve coffins for his sons, in order that all the wealth of his kingdom may descend to his daughter, let us substitute the steward of the palace, who hopes by slaying the sons and winning the hand of the daughter, to become king himself. finally the story of red riding hood illustrates the cardinal virtue of childhood--_obedience to parents_. children must not loiter on the way when they are sent on errands. and riding hood loiters, and hence all the mischief which follows. she is sent to bring wine and cake to her grandmother. the example of such attentions as this serves to quicken in children the sentiment of reverence for the aged. children learn reverence toward their parents in part by the reverence which these display toward the grandparents. another point is that red riding hood, to quiet her conscience, when she strays from the straight path deceives herself as to her motives. she says, "i will also gather a bunch of wild flowers to please grandmother." but her real purpose is to enjoy the freedom of the woods, and the proof is that presently she forgets all about grandmother. there is one objection that has sometimes been urged against this story, viz., the part which the wolf plays in it. but the wolf is not really treated as a hostile or fearful being. he meets red riding hood on the way, and they chat confidentially together. he appears rather in the light of a trickster. but, it is objected, that he devours the grandmother and, later on, red riding hood herself. very true; but the curious fact is that, when his belly is cut open, the grandmother and red riding hood come out intact. they have evidently not been injured. children have very defective notions of the human body, with the exception of such external parts as hands, feet, and face. in an examination recently conducted by prof. g. stanley hall in regard to the contents of childrens' minds at the time they enter school, it was found that ninety per cent of those questioned had no idea where the heart is located, eighty-one per cent did not know anything about the lungs, ninety per cent could not tell where their ribs are situated, etc. of the internal organs children have no idea. hence when the story says that the grandmother is swallowed by the wolf, the impression created is that she has been forced down into a sort of dark hole, and that her situation, while rather uncomfortable, no doubt, is not otherwise distressing. the ideas of torn and mangled flesh are not suggested. hence the act of devouring arouses no feeling of horror, and the story of red riding hood, that prime favorite of all young children, may be related without any apprehension as to its moral effect. then there are other stories, such as that of the man who went abroad to learn the art of shuddering--an excellent example of bravery; the story of the seven suabians--a persiflage of cowardice; the story of the _marienkind_ which contains a wholesome lesson against obstinacy, etc. i have not, of course, attempted to cover the whole ground, but only to mention a few examples sufficient to show along what lines the selection may be made. the ethical interests peculiar to childhood are the heads under which the whole material can be classified. the value of the fairy tales is that they stimulate the imagination; that they reflect the unbroken communion of human life with the life universal, as in beasts, fishes, trees, flowers, and stars; and that incidentally, but all the more powerfully on that account, they quicken the moral sentiments. let us avail ourselves freely of the treasures which are thus placed at our disposal. let us welcome _das märchen_ into our primary course of moral training, that with its gentle bands, woven of "morning mist and morning glory," it may help to lead our children into the bright realms of the ideal. vii. the use of fables. the collection of fables which figures under the name of Æsop has to a very remarkable degree maintained its popularity among children, and many of its typical characters have been adopted into current literature, such as the dog in the manger, the wolf in sheep's clothing, king log, and king stork, and others. recent researches have brought to light the highly interesting fact that these fables are of asiatic origin. a collection of indian and, it is believed, buddhist fables and stories traveled at an early period into persia, where it became known as the pancha-tantra. the pancha-tantra was translated into arabic, and became the source of the voluminous kalilah-wa-dimnah literature. the arabic tales in turn migrated into europe at the time of the crusades and were rendered into greek, hebrew, and latin. in this form they became accessible to the nations of europe, were extensively circulated, and a collection of them was wrongly, but very naturally, ascribed to a famous story-teller of the ancient greeks--i. e., to Æsop. the arguments on which this deduction is based may be found in rhys davids's introduction to his english translation of the jataka tales.[ ] this author speaks of Æsop's fables as a first moral lesson-book for our children in the west. we shall have to consider in how far this description is correct--that is to say, in how far we can use the fables for moral purposes. the point to be kept in mind is their asiatic origin, as this will at once help us to separate the fables which we can use from those which must be rejected. a discrimination of this sort is absolutely necessary. i am of the opinion that it is a serious mistake to place the whole collection as it stands in the hands of children. to decide this question we must study the _milieu_ in which the fables arose, the spirit which they breathe, the conditions which they reflect. the conditions they reflect are those of an oriental despotism. they depict a state of society in which the people are cruelly oppressed by tyrannical rulers, and the weak are helpless in the hands of the strong. the spirit which they breathe is, on the whole, one of patient and rather hopeless submission. the effect upon the reader as soon as he has caught this clew, this _leitmotiv_, which occurs in a hundred variations, is very saddening. i must substantiate this cardinal point by a somewhat detailed analysis. let us take first the fable of the kite and the pigeons. a kite had been sailing in the air for many days near a pigeon-house with the intention of seizing the pigeons; at last he had recourse to stratagem. he expressed his deep concern at their unjust and unreasonable suspicions of himself, as if he intended to do them an injury. he declared that, on the contrary, he had nothing more at heart than the defense of their ancient rights and liberties, and ended by proposing that they should accept him as their protector, their king. the poor, simple pigeons consented. the kite took the coronation oath in a very solemn manner. but much time had not elapsed before the good kite declared it to be a part of the king's prerogative to devour a pigeon now and then, and the various members of his family adhered to the same view of royal privilege. the miserable pigeons exclaimed: "ah, we deserve no better. why did we let him in!" the fable of the wolf in sheep's clothing conveys essentially the same idea. the fable of the lion and the deer illustrates the exorbitant exactions practiced by despots. a fat deer was divided into four parts. his majesty the lion proposed that they be suitably apportioned. the first part he claimed for himself on account of his true hereditary descent from the royal family of lion; the second he considered properly his own because he had headed the hunt; the third he took in virtue of his prerogative; and finally he assumed a menacing attitude, and dared any one to dispute his right to the fourth part also. in the fable of the sick lion and the fox, the fox says: "i see the footprints of beasts who have gone into the cave, but of none that have come out." the fable of the cat and the mice expresses the same thought, namely, that it is necessary to be ever on one's guard against the mighty oppressors even when their power seems for the time to have deserted them. the cat pretends to be dead, hoping by this means to entice the mice within her reach. a cunning old mouse peeps over the edge of the shelf, and says: "aha, my good friend, are you there? i would not trust myself with you though your skin were stuffed with straw." the fable of king log and king stork shows what a poor choice the people have in the matter of their kings. first they have a fool for their king, a mere log, and they are discontented. then stork ascends the throne, and he devours them. it would have been better if they had put up with the fool. the injustice of despotic rulers is exemplified in the fable of the kite and the wolf. the kite and the wolf are seated in judgment. the dog comes before them to sue the sheep for debt. kite and wolf, without waiting for the evidence, give sentence for the plaintiff, who immediately tears the poor sheep into pieces and divides the spoil with the judges. the sort of thanks which the people get when they are foolish enough to come to the assistance of their masters, is illustrated by the conduct of the wolf toward the crane. the wolf happened to have a bone sticking in his throat, and, howling with pain, promised a reward to any one who should relieve him. at last the crane ventured his long neck into the wolf's throat and plucked out the bone. but when he asked for his reward, the wolf glared savagely upon him, and said: "is it not enough that i refrained from biting off your head?" how dangerous it is to come at all into close contact with the mighty, is shown in the fable of the earthen and the brazen pot. the brazen pot offers to protect the earthen one as they float down stream. "oh," replies the latter, "keep as far off as ever you can, if you please; for, whether the stream dashes you against me or me against you, i am sure to be the sufferer." the fables which we have considered have for their theme the character of the strong as exhibited in their dealings with the weak. a second group is intended to recommend a certain policy to be pursued by the weak in self-protection. this policy consists either in pacifying the strong by giving up to them voluntarily what they want, or in flight, or, if that be impossible, in uncomplaining submission. the first expedient is recommended in the fable of the beaver. a beaver who was being hard pressed by a hunter and knew not how to escape, suddenly, with a great effort, bit off the part which the hunter desired, and, throwing it toward him, by this means escaped with his life. the expedient of flight is recommended in the fable of reynard and the cat. reynard and the cat one day were talking politics in the forest. the fox boasted that though things might turn out never so badly, he had still a thousand tricks to play before they should catch him. the cat said: "i have but one trick, and if that does not succeed i am undone." presently a pack of hounds came upon them full cry. the cat ran up a tree and hid herself among the top branches. the fox, who had not been able to get out of sight, was overtaken despite his thousand tricks and torn to pieces by the hounds. the fable of the oak and the reed teaches the policy of utter, uncomplaining submission. the oak refuses to bend, and is broken. the supple reed yields to the blast, and is safe. is it not a little astonishing that this fable should so often be related to children as if it contained a moral which they ought to take to heart? to make it apply at all, it is usually twisted from its proper signification and explained as meaning that one should not be fool-hardy, not attempt to struggle against overwhelming odds. but this is not the true interpretation. the oak is by nature strong and firm, while it is the nature of the reed to bend to every wind. the fable springs out of the experience of a people who have found resistance against oppression useless. and this sort of teaching we can not, of course, wish to give to our children. i should certainly prefer that a child of mine should take the oak, and not the reed, for his pattern. the same spirit is again inculcated in the fable of the wanton calf. the wanton calf sneers at the poor ox who all day long bears the heavy yoke patiently upon his neck. but in the evening it turns out that the ox is unyoked, while the calf is butchered. the choice seems to lie between subserviency and destruction. the fable of the old woman and her maids suggests the same conclusion, with the warning added that it is useless to rise against the agents of tyranny so long as the tyrants themselves can not be overthrown. the cock in the fable represents the agents of oppression. the killing of the cock serves only to bring the mistress herself on the scene, and the lot of the servants becomes in consequence very much harder than it had been before. we have now considered two groups of fables: those which depict the character of the mighty, and those which treat of the proper policy of the weak. the subject of the third group is, the consolations of the weak. these are, first, that even tyrannical masters are to a certain extent dependent upon their inferiors, and can be punished if they go too far; secondly, that the mighty occasionally come to grief in consequence of dissensions among themselves; thirdly, that fortune is fickle. a lion is caught in the toils, and would perish did not a little mouse come to his aid by gnawing asunder the knots and fastenings. the bear robs the bees of their honey, but is punished and rendered almost desperate by their stings. an eagle carries off the cub of a fox; but the fox, snatching a fire-brand, threatens to set the eagle's nest on fire, and thus forces him to restore her young one. this is evidently a fable of insurrection. the fable of the viper and the file shows that it is not safe to attack the wrong person--in other words, that tyrants sometimes come to grief by singling out for persecution some one who is strong enough to resist them though they little suspect it. the fable of the four bulls shows the effect of dissensions among the mighty. four bulls had entered into a close alliance, and agreed to keep always near one another. a lion fomented jealousies among them. the bulls grew distrustful of one another, and at last parted company. the lion had now obtained his end, and seized and devoured them singly. the fickleness of fortune is the theme of the fable of the horse and the ass. the horse, richly caparisoned and champing his foaming bridle, insults an ass who moves along under a heavy load. soon after the horse is wounded, and, being unfit for military service, is sold to a carrier. the ass now taunts the proud animal with his fallen estate. the horse in this fable is the type of many an eastern vizier, who has basked for a time in the sunshine of a despot's favor only to be suddenly and ignominiously degraded. the ass in the fable represents the people. there remains a fourth group of fables, which satirize certain mean or ridiculous types of characters, such as are apt to appear in social conditions of the kind we have described. especially do the fables make a target of the folly of those who affect the manners of the aristocratic class, or who try to crowd in where they are not wanted, or who boast of their high connections. the frog puffs himself up so that he may seem as large as the ox, until he bursts. the mouse aspires to marry the young lioness, and is in fact well received; but the young lady inadvertently places her foot on her suitor and crushes him. the jackdaw picks up feathers which have fallen from the peacocks, sticks them among his own, and introduces himself into the assembly of those proud birds. they find him out, strip him of his plumes, and with their sharp bills punish him as he deserves. a fly boasts that he frequents the most distinguished company, and that he is on familiar terms with the king, the priests, and the nobility. many a time, he says, he has entered the royal chamber, has sat upon the altar, and has even enjoyed the privilege of kissing the lips of the most beautiful maids of honor. "yes," replies an ant, "but in what capacity are you admitted among all these great people? one and all regard you as a nuisance, and the sooner they can get rid of you the better they are pleased." most of the fables which thus far have been mentioned we can not use. the discovery of their asiatic origin sheds a new, keen light upon their meaning. they breathe, in many cases, a spirit of fear, of abject subserviency, of hopeless pessimism. can we desire to inoculate the young with this spirit? the question may be asked why fables are so popular with boys. i should say, because school-boy society reproduces in miniature to a certain extent the social conditions which are reflected in the fables. among unregenerate school-boys there often exists a kind of despotism, not the less degrading because petty. the strong are pitted against the weak--witness the fagging system in the english schools--and their mutual antagonism produces in both the characteristic vices which we have noted above. the psychological study of school-boy society has been only begun, but even what lies on the surface will, i think, bear out this remark. now it has come to be one of the commonplaces of educational literature, that the individual of to-day must pass through the same stages of evolution as the human race as a whole. but it should not be forgotten that the advance of civilization depends on two conditions: first, that the course of evolution be accelerated, that the time allowed to the successive stages be shortened; and, secondly, that the unworthy and degrading elements which entered into the process of evolution in the past, and at the time were inseparable from it, be now eliminated. thus the fairy-tales which correspond to the myth-making epoch in human history must be purged of the dross of superstition which still adheres to them, and the fables which correspond to the age of primitive despotisms must be cleansed of the immoral elements they still embody. the fables which are fit for use may be divided into two classes: those which give illustrations of evil,[ ] the effect of which on the young should be to arouse disapprobation, and those which present types of virtue. the following is a list of some of the principal ones in each category: _an instance of selfishness._ the porcupine having begged for hospitality and having been invited into a nest of snakes, inconveniences the inmates and finally crowds them out. when they remonstrate, he says, "let those quit the place that do not like it." _injustice._ the fable of the kite and the wolf, mentioned above. _improvidence._ the fable of the ant and the grasshopper; also the fable entitled one swallow does not make summer, and the fable of the man who killed the goose that laid the golden eggs. _ingratitude._ the fable of the snake which bit the countryman who had warmed it in his breast. _cowardice._ the fable of the stag and the fawn, and of the hares in the storm. _vanity._ the fables of the peacock and the crane, and of the crow who lost his cheese by listening to the flattery of the fox. _contemptuous self-confidence._ the hare and the tortoise. _the evil influence of bad company._ the husbandman and the stork. _cruelty to animals._ the fowler and the ringdove; the hawk and the pigeons. _greediness._ the dog and the shadow. _lying._ the fable of the boy who cried "wolf!" _bragging._ the fable of the ass in the lion's skin. _deceit._ the fable of the fox without a tail. _disingenuousness._ the fable of the sour grapes. _a discontented spirit._ the fable of the peacock's complaint. _equal graces are not given to all._ the fable of the ass who leaped into his master's lap. _borrowed plumes._ the fable of the jackdaw and the peacocks, mentioned above. _malice._ the fable of the dog in the manger, who would not eat, neither let others eat. _breaking faith._ the fable of the traveler and the bear. _to fan animosity is even worse than to quarrel._ the fable of the trumpeter. the value of these fables, as has been said, consists in the reaction which they call forth in the minds of the pupils. sometimes this reaction finds expression in the fable itself; sometimes the particular vice is merely depicted in its nakedness, and it becomes the business of the teacher distinctly to evoke the feeling of disapprobation, and to have it expressly stated in words. the words tend to fix the feeling. often, when a child has committed some fault, it is useful to refer by name to the fable that fits it. as, when a boy has made room in his seat for another, and the other crowds him out, the mere mention of the fable of the porcupine is a telling rebuke; or the fable of the hawk and the pigeons may be called to mind when a boy has been guilty of mean excuses. on the same principle that angry children are sometimes taken before a mirror to show them how ugly they look. the fable is a kind of mirror for the vices of the young. of the fables that illustrate virtuous conduct, i mention that of hercules and the cart-driver, which teaches self-reliance. hercules helps the driver as soon as the latter has put his own shoulders to the wheel. also the fable of the lark. so long as the farmer depends on his neighbors, or his kinsmen, the lark is not afraid; but when he proposes to buckle to himself, she advises her young that it is time to seek another field. the fable of the wind and the sun shows that kindness succeeds where rough treatment would fail. the fable of the bundle of sticks exemplifies the value of harmony. the fable of the wolf, whom the dog tries to induce to enter civilization, expresses the sentiment that lean liberty is to be preferred to pampered servitude. the fable of the old hound teaches regard for old servants. finally, the fable of the horse and the loaded ass, and of the dove and the ant, show that kindness pays on selfish principles. the horse refuses to share the ass's burden; the ass falls dead under his load; in consequence, the horse has to bear the whole of it. on the other hand the dove rescues the ant from drowning, and the ant in turn saves the dove from the fowler's net. the last remark throws light on the point of view from which the fables contemplate good and evil. it is to be noted that a really moral spirit is wanting in them; the moral motives are not appealed to. the appeal throughout is to the bare motive of self-interest. do not lie, because you will be found out, and will be left in the lurch when you depend for help on the confidence of others. do not indulge in vanity, because you will make yourself ridiculous. do not try to appear like a lion when you can not support the character, because people will find out that you are only an ass. do not act ungratefully, because you will be thrust out of doors. even when good conduct is inculcated, it is on the ground that it pays. be self-reliant, because if you help yourself others will help you. be kind, because by gentle means you can gain your purpose better than by harshness. agree with your neighbors, because you can then, like the bundle of sticks, resist aggression from without. that lying is wrong on principle; that greediness is shameful, whether you lose your cheese or not; that kindness is blessed, even when it does not bring a material reward; that it is lovely for neighbors to dwell together in peace, is nowhere indicated. the beauty and the holiness of right conduct lie utterly beyond the horizon of the fable. nevertheless, as we have seen when speaking of the efficient motives of conduct, self-interest as a motive should not be underrated, but should be allowed the influence which belongs to it as an auxiliary to the moral motive. it is well, it is necessary, for children to learn that lying, besides being in itself disgraceful, does also entail penalties of a palpable sort; that vanity and self-conceit, besides being immoral, are also punished by the contempt of one's fellows; that those who are unkind, as the horse was to the ass, may have to bear the ass's burden. the checks and curbs supplied by such considerations as these serve the purpose of strengthening the weak conscience of the young, and are not to be dispensed with, provided always they are treated not as substitutes for but as auxiliaries to the moral motives, properly speaking. as to the place in the primary course which i have assigned to the fables, i have the following remark to offer: in speaking of fairy tales, it was stated that the moral element should be touched on incidentally, and that it should not be separated from the other, the naturalistic elements. the pedagogical reason which leads me to assign to the fables the second place in the course, is that each fable deals exclusively with one moral quality, which is thus isolated and held up to be contemplated. in the stories which will occupy the third place a number of moral qualities are presented in combination. we have, therefore, what seems to be a logical and progressive order--first, fairy tales in which the moral is still blended with other elements; secondly, a single moral quality set off by itself; then, a combination of such qualities. the peculiar value of the fables is that they are instantaneous photographs, which reproduce, as it were, in a single flash of light, some one aspect of human nature, and which, excluding everything else, permit the entire attention to be fixed on that one. as to the method of handling them, i should say to the teacher: relate the fable; let the pupil repeat it in his own words, making sure that the essential points are stated correctly. by means of questions elicit a clean-cut expression of the point which the fable illustrates; then ask the pupil to give out of his experience other instances illustrating the same point. this is precisely the method pursued in the so-called primary object lessons. the child, for instance, having been shown a red ball, is asked to state the color of the ball, and then to name other objects of the same color; or to give the shape of the ball, and then to name other objects having the same shape. in like manner, when the pupil has heard the fable of the fox and the wolf, and has gathered from it that compassion when expressed merely in words is useless, and that it must lead to deeds to be really praiseworthy, it will be easy for him out of his own experience to multiply instances which illustrate the same truth. the search for instances makes the point of the fable clearer, while the expression of the thought in precise language, on which the teacher should always insist, tends to drive it home. it will be our aim in the present course of lectures to apply the methods of object teaching, now generally adopted in other branches, to the earliest moral instruction of children--an undertaking, of course, not without difficulties. footnotes: [ ] buddhist birth stories; or jataka tales, translated by t. w. rhys davids. [ ] i remarked above that fables should be excluded if the moral they inculcate is bad, not if they depict what is bad. in the latter case they often may serve a useful purpose. viii. supplementary remarks on fables. apart from the collection which figures under the name of Æsop, there are other fables, notably the so-called jataka tales, which deserve attention. the jataka tales contain deep truths, and are calculated to impress lessons of great moral beauty. the tale of the merchant of seri, who gave up all that he had in exchange for a golden dish, embodies much the same idea as the parable of the priceless pearl, in the new testament. the tale of the measures of rice illustrates the importance of a true estimate of values. the tale of the banyan deer, which offered its life to save a roe and her young, illustrates self-sacrifice of the noblest sort. the kulavaka-jataka contains the thought that a forgiving spirit toward one's enemies disarms even the evil-minded. the tale of the partridge, the monkey, and the elephant teaches that the best seats belong not to the nobles or the priests, to the rich or the learned, not even to the most pious, but that reverence and service and respect and civility are to be paid according to age, and for the aged the best seat, the best water, the best rice, are to be reserved. the tale of nanda, or the buried gold, is a rebuke to that base insolence which vulgar natures often exhibit when they possess a temporary advantage. the tale of the sandy road is one of the finest in the collection. it pictures to us a caravan wandering through the desert under the starlight. the guide, whose duty it was to pilot them through this sea of sand, has, it appears, fallen asleep at his post from excessive weariness, and at dawn the travelers discover that they have gone astray, and that far and wide no water is in sight wherewith to quench their burning thirst. at this moment, however, the leader espies a small tuft of grass on the face of the desert, and, reasoning that water must be flowing somewhere underneath, inspires his exhausted followers to new exertions. a hole sixty feet deep is dug under his direction, but at length they come upon hard rock, and can dig no farther. but even then he does not yield to despair. leaping down, he applies his ear to the rock. surely, it is water that he hears gurgling underneath! one more effort, he cries, and we are saved! but of all his followers one only had strength or courage enough left to obey. this one strikes a heavy blow, the rock is split open, and lo! the living water gushes upward in a flood. the lesson is that of perseverance and presence of mind in desperate circumstances. the tale entitled holding to the truth narrates the sad fate of a merchant who suffered himself to be deceived by a mirage into the belief that water was near, and emptied the jars which he carried with him in order to reach the pleasant land the sooner. the jataka entitled on true divinity contains a very beautiful story about three brothers, the sun prince, the moon prince, and the future buddha or bodisat. the king, their father, expelled the moon prince and the future buddha in order to secure the succession to the sun prince alone. but the sun prince could not bear to be separated from his brothers, and secretly followed them into exile. they journeyed together until they came to a certain lake. this lake was inhabited by an evil spirit, to whom power had been given to destroy all who entered his territory unless they could redeem their lives by answering the question, "what is truly divine?" so the sun prince was asked first, and he answered, "the sun and the moon and the gods are divine." but that not being the correct answer, the evil spirit seized and imprisoned him in his cave. then the moon prince was asked, and he answered, "the far-spreading sky is called divine." but he, too, was carried away to the same place to be destroyed. then the future buddha was asked, and he answered: "give ear, then, attentively, and hear what divine nature is;" and he uttered the words-- "the pure in heart who fear to sin, the good, kindly in word and deed, these are the beings in the world whose nature should be called divine." and when the evil spirit heard these words, he bowed, and said: "i will give up to you one of your brothers." then the future buddha said, "give me the life of my brother, the sun prince, for it is on his account that we have been driven away from our home and thrust into exile." the evil spirit was overcome by this act of generosity, and said, "verily, o teacher, thou not only knowest what is divine, but hast acted divinely." and he gave him the life of both his brothers, the sun prince as well as the moon prince. i could not resist the temptation of relating a few of these tales. they are, as every one must admit, nobly conceived, lofty in meaning, and many a helpful sermon might be preached from them as texts. but, of course, not all are fit to be used in a primary course. some of them are, some are not. the teacher will have no difficulty in making the right selection. to the former class belongs also no. of the collection,[ ] which is excellently adapted to impress the lesson of kindness to animals. long ago the buddha came to life in the shape of a powerful bull. his master, a brahman, asserted that this bull of his could move a hundred loaded carts ranged in a row and bound together. being challenged to prove his assertion, he bathed the bull, gave him scented rice, hung a garland of flowers around his neck, and yoked him to the first cart. then he raised his whip and called out, "gee up, you brute. drag them along, you wretch!" the bull said to himself, "he calls me wretch; i am no wretch." and keeping his forelegs as firm as steel, he stood perfectly still. thereupon the brahman, his master, was compelled to pay a forfeit of a thousand pieces of gold because he had not made good his boast. after a while the bull said to the brahman, who seemed very much dispirited: "brahman, i have lived a long time in your house. have i ever broken any pots, or have i rubbed against the walls, or have i made the walks around the premises unclean?" "never, my dear," said the brahman. "then why did you call me wretch? but if you will never call me wretch again, you shall have two thousand pieces for the one thousand you have lost." the brahman, hearing this, called his neighbors together, set up one hundred loaded carts as before, then seated himself on the pole, stroked the bull on the back, and called out, "gee up, my beauty! drag them along, my beauty!" and the bull, with a mighty effort, dragged along the whole hundred carts, heavily loaded though they were. the bystanders were greatly astonished, and the brahman received two thousand pieces on account of the wonderful feat performed by the bull. the th jataka corresponds to the fable of the ox and the calf in the Æsop collection. the d, like the fable of the bundle of sticks, teaches the lesson of unity, but in a form a little nearer to the understanding of children. long ago, when brahmadatta was reigning in benares, the future buddha came to life as a quail. at that time there was a fowler who used to go to the place where the quails dwelt and imitate their cry; and when they had assembled, he would throw his net over them. but the buddha said to the quails: "in future, as soon as he has thrown the net over us, let each thrust his head through a mesh of the net, then all lift it together, carry it off to some bush, and escape from underneath it." and they did so and were saved. but one day a quail trod unawares on the head of another, and a disgraceful quarrel ensued. the next time the fowler threw his net over them, each of the quails pretended that the others were leaving him to bear the greatest strain, and cried out, "you others begin, and then i will help." the consequence was that no one began, and the net was not raised, and the fowler bagged them all. the th jataka enforces the truth that evil communications corrupt good manners, and contains more particularly a warning against listening to the conversation of wicked people. thus much concerning the jataka tales. there exists also a collection of hindu fairy tales and fables, gathered from oral tradition by m. frere, and published under the title of old deccan days. a few of these are very charming, and well adapted for our purpose. for example, the fable of king lion and the sly little jackals. the story is told with delightful _naïveté_. singh-rajah, the lion-king, is very hungry. he has already devoured all the jackals of the forest, and only a young married couple, who are extremely fond of each other, remain. the little jackal-wife is terribly frightened when she hears in their immediate vicinity the roar of singh-rajah. but the young husband tries to comfort her, and to save their lives he hits on the following expedient: he makes her go with him straight to the cave of the terrible lion. singh-rajah no sooner sees them than he exclaims: "it is well you have arrived at last. come here quickly, so that i may eat you." the husband says: "yes, your majesty, we are entirely ready to do as you bid us, and, in fact, we should have come long ago, as in duty bound, to satisfy your royal appetite, but there is another singh-rajah mightier than you in the forest, who would not let us come." "what!" says the lion, "another singh-rajah mightier than i! that is impossible." "oh! but it is a fact," say the young couple in a breath; "and he is really much more terrible than you are." "show him to me, then," says singh-rajah, "and i will prove to you that what you say is false--that there is no one to be compared with me in might." so the little jackals ran on together ahead of the lion, until they reached a deep well. "he is in there," they said, pointing to the well. the lion looked down angrily and saw his own image, the image of an angry lion glaring back at him. he shook his mane; the other did the same. singh-rajah thereupon, unable to contain himself, leaped down to fight his competitor, and, of course, was drowned. the fable clothes in childlike language the moral that anger is blind, and that the objects which excite our anger are often merely the outward reflections of our own passions. in the fable of the brahman, the tiger, and the six judges, we have a lesson against ingratitude, and also against useless destruction of animal life. in the fable of the camel and the jackal, the latter does not appear in the same favorable light as above. the jackal and the camel were good friends. one day the jackal said to his companion: "i know of a field of sugar-cane on the other side of the river, and near by there are plenty of crabs and small fishes. the crabs and fishes will do for me, while you can make a fine dinner off the sugar-cane. if there were only a way of getting across!" the camel offered to swim across, taking the jackal on his back, and in this way they reached the opposite bank. the jackal ate greedily, and had soon finished his meal; thereupon he began to run up and down, and to exercise his voice, screaming lustily. the camel begged him to desist, but in vain. presently the cries of the jackal roused the villagers. they came with sticks and cudgels and cruelly beat the camel, and drove him out of the field before he had had time to eat more than a few mouthfuls. when the men were gone at last, the jackal said, "let us now go home." "very well," said the camel, "climb on my back." when they were midway between the two banks, the camel said to the jackal: "why did you make such a noise and spoil my dinner, bringing on those cruel men, who beat me so that every bone in my body aches? did i not beg you to stop?" "oh," said the jackal, "i meant no harm. i was only singing a bit. i always sing after dinner, just for amusement." they had by this time reached the place where the water was deepest. "well," said the camel, "i also like innocent amusements. for instance, it is my custom to lie on my back after dinner and to stretch myself a bit." with that he turned over, and the jackal fell into the stream. he swallowed pailfuls of water, and it was only with the utmost difficulty that he succeeded in reaching the bank. he had received a salutary lesson on the subject of inconsiderate selfishness--a fault very common with children, which such a story as this may help to correct. as to the modern fables, i fear they will yield us but a scanty harvest. the fables of la fontaine, where they depart from Æsopian originals, are hardly suitable for children, and those of the german poet gellert impress me, on the whole, in the same way, though a few of them may be added to our stock. for instance, the fable of the greenfinch and the nightingale. these two birds occupy the same cage before the window of damon's house. presently the voice of the nightingale is heard, and then ceases. the father leads his little boy before the cage and asks him which of the two he believes to have been the sweet musician, the brightly colored greenfinch or the outwardly unattractive nightingale. the child immediately points to the former, and is then instructed as to his error. the lesson, of course, is that fine clothes and real worth do not always go together. the fable of the blind and the lame man teaches the advantages of co-operation. the carriage horse and the cart horse is a fable for the rich. possibly the fable of the peasant and his son, which is directed against lies of exaggeration, may also be utilized, though i realize that there are objections to it. footnote: [ ] buddhist birth stories; or jataka tales. ix. stories from the bible. _introduction._--it will have been noticed that in choosing our illustrative material we have confined ourselves to what may be called classical literature. the german _märchen_ has lived in the traditions of the german people for centuries, and is as fresh to-day as snow-white herself when she woke from her trance. the fables, as has been shown, have been adopted into the language and literature of persia, of arabia, of the nations of europe, and are still found in the hands of our own children. let us continue to pursue the same method of selection. instead of relying on juvenile literature just produced, or attempting to write moralizing stories specially adapted for the purpose in hand, let us continue, without excluding invention altogether, to rely mainly on that which has stood the test of time. in the third part of our primary course we shall use selected stories from the classical literature of the hebrews, and later on from that of greece, particularly the odyssey and the iliad. the stories to which i refer possess a perennial vitality, an indestructible charm. i am, i trust, no blind worshiper of antiquity. the mere fact that a thing has existed for a thousand or two thousand years is not always proof that it is worth preserving. but the fact that after having been repeated for two thousand years a story still possesses a perfectly fresh attraction for the child of to-day, does indeed prove that there is in it something of imperishable worth. how is this unique charm of the classical literature to be explained? what quality exists in homer, in the bible, enabling them, despite the changes of taste and fashion, to hold their own? the novels of the last century are already antiquated; few care to read them. the poetry of the middle ages is enjoyed only by those who cultivate a special taste for it. historical and scientific works hardly have time to leave an impression before new books appear to crowd them out. but a few great masterpieces have survived, and the truth and beauty of these the lapse of ages, it seems, has left unaltered. mr. jebb remarks[ ] that homer aims at the lucid expression of primary motives, and refrains from multiplying individual traits which might interfere with their effect, and that this typical quality in homer's portraiture has been one secret of its universal impressiveness. the homeric outlines are in each case brilliantly distinct, while they leave to the reader a certain liberty of private conception, and he can fill them in so as to satisfy his own ideal. we may add that this is just as true of the bible as of homer. the biblical narrative, too, depicts a few essential traits of human nature, and refrains from multiplying minor traits which might interfere with the main effect. the bible, too, draws its figures in outline, and leaves every age free to fill them in so as to satisfy its own ideal. thus the biblical story, as conceived in the mind of milton, reflects the puritan ideal; the same story, narrated in a modern pulpit or sunday-school, will inevitably reflect, to a greater or less degree, the modern humanitarian ideal, and this liberty of interpretation is one cause of the vitality of the bible. but it may be asked further, how did homer, how did the biblical writers, succeed in producing such universal types, in drawing their figures so correctly that, however the colors may thenceforth be varied, the outlines remain forever true? he who should attempt at the present day to give expression to the most universal traits of human nature, freed from the complex web of conditions, disengaged from the thousand-fold minor traits which modify the universal in particular instances, would find it difficult to avoid one or the other of two fatal errors. if he keeps his eyes fixed on the universal, he is in danger of producing a set of bloodless abstractions, pale shadows of reality, which will not live for a day, much less for a thousand years. if, on the other hand, he tries to keep close to reality he will probably produce more or less accurate copies of the types that surround him, but the danger will always be that the universal will be lost amid the particulars. by what quality in themselves or fortunate constellation of circumstances did homer and the biblical writers succeed in avoiding both these errors, in creating types of the utmost universality and yet imparting to them the breath of life, the gait and accent of distinctive individuality? i imagine that they succeeded because they lived at a time when life was much less complex than it is at present, when the conversation, the manners, the thoughts, the motives of men were simple. they were enabled to individualize the universal because the most universal, the simplest motives, still formed the mainspring in the conduct of individuals. it was not necessary for them to enter into the barren region of abstraction and generalization to discover the universal. they pictured what they actually saw. the universal and the individual were still blended in that early dawn of human history. we have thus far spoken of homer and the bible jointly. but let us now give our particular attention to the biblical narrative. the narrative of the bible is fairly saturated with the moral spirit; the moral issues are everywhere in the forefront. duty, guilt and its punishment, the conflict of conscience with inclination, are the leading themes. the hebrew people seem to have been endowed with what may be called "a moral genius," and especially did they emphasize the filial and fraternal duties to an extent hardly equaled elsewhere. now it is precisely these duties that must be impressed on young children, and hence the biblical stories present us with the very material we require. they can not, in this respect, be replaced; there is no other literature in the world that offers what is equal to them in value for the particular object we have now in view. before proceeding, however, to discuss the stories in detail, let me remind you that in studying them a larger tax is made on the attention of children, and a higher development of the moral judgment is presupposed, than in the previous parts of our course; for in them a succession of acts and their consequences are presented to the scholar, on each of which his judgment is to be exercised. those who teach the biblical stories merely because it has been customary to regard the bible as the text-book of morals and religion, without, however, being clear as to the place which belongs to it in a scheme of moral education, will always, i doubt not, achieve a certain result. the stories will never entirely fail of their beneficial effect, but i can not help thinking that this effect will be greatly heightened if their precise pedagogic value is distinctly apprehended, and if the preparatory steps have been taken in due course. it seems to me that the moral judgment should first be exercised on a single moral quality as exhibited in a single act before it is applied to a whole series of acts; and hence that the fable should precede the story. in making our selection from the rich material before us we need only keep in mind the principle already enunciated in the introductory lectures--that the moral teaching at any period should relate to the duties of that period. _adam and eve in paradise._ this is a wonderful story for children. it deserves to be placed at the head of all the others, for it inculcates the cardinal virtue of childhood--obedience. it is also a typical story of the beginning, the progress, and the culmination of temptation. will you permit me to relate the story as i should tell it to little children? i shall endeavor to keep true to the outlines, and if i depart from the received version in other respects, may i not plead that liberty of interpretation to which i have referred above. once upon a time there were two children, adam and eve. adam was a fine and noble-looking lad. he was slender and well built, and fleet of foot as a young deer. eve was as beautiful as the dawn, with long golden tresses, and blue eyes, and cheeks like the rose. they lived in the loveliest garden that you have ever heard of. there were tall trees in it, and open meadows where the grass was as smooth as on a lawn, and clear, murmuring brooks ran through the woods. and there were dense thickets filled with the perfume of flowers, and the flowers grew in such profusion, and there were so many different kinds, each more beautiful than the rest, that it was a perfect feast for the eyes to look at them. it was so warm that the children never needed to go in-doors, but at night they would just lie down at the foot of some great tree and look at the stars twinkling through the branches until they fell asleep. and when it rained they would find shelter in some beautiful cavern, spreading leaves and moss upon the ground for a bed. the garden where they lived was called paradise. and there were ever so many animals in it--all kinds of animals--elephants, and tigers, and leopards, and giraffes, and camels, and sheep, and horses, and cows; but even the wild animals did them no harm. but the children were not alone in that garden: their father lived with them. and every morning when they woke up their first thought was to go to him and to look up into his mild, kind face for a loving glance, and every evening before they went to sleep he would bend over them. and once, as they lay under the great tree, looking at a star shining through the branches, adam said to eve: "our father's eye shines just like that star." one day their father said to them: "my children, there is one tree in this beautiful garden the fruit of which you must not eat, because it is hurtful to you. you can not understand why, but you know that you must obey your father even when you do not understand. he loves you and knows best what is for your good." so they promised, and for a time remembered. but one day it happened that eve was passing near the tree of the fruit of which she knew she must not eat, when what should she hear but a snake talking to her. she did not see it, but she heard its voice quite distinctly. and this is what the snake said: "you poor eve! you must certainly have a hard time. your father is always forbidding you something. how stern he is! i am sure that other children can have all the fruit they want." eve was frightened at first. she knew that her father was kind and good, and that the snake was telling a falsehood. he did not always forbid things. but still he had forbidden her to eat of the fruit, and she thought that was a little hard; and she could not understand at all why he had done so. then the snake spoke again: "listen, eve! he forbade you to eat only of it. it can do no harm just to look at it. go up to it. see how it glistens among the branches! how golden it looks!" and the snake kept on whispering: "how good it must be to the taste! just take one bite of it. nobody sees you. only one bite; that can do no harm." and eve glanced around, and saw that no one was looking, and presently with a hasty movement she seized the fruit and ate of it. then she said to herself: "adam, too, must eat of it. i can never bear to eat it alone." so she ran hastily up to adam, and said: "see, i have some of the forbidden fruit, and you, too, must eat." and he, too, looked at it and was tempted, and ate. but that evening they were very much afraid. they knew they had done wrong, and their consciences troubled them. so they hurried away into the wood where it was deepest, and hid themselves in the bushes. but soon they heard their father calling to them; and it was strange, their father's voice had never sounded so sad before. and in a few moments he found them where they were hiding. and he said to them: "why do you hide from me?" and they were very much confused, and stammered forth all sorts of excuses. but he said: "come hither, children." and he looked into their eyes, and said: "have you eaten of the fruit of which i told you not to eat?" and adam, who was thoughtless and somewhat selfish, spoke up, and said: "yes, but it was eve who gave me of it; she led me on." and eve hung her head, and said: "it was the snake that made me eat." now the snake, you know, was no real snake at all; she never saw it, she only heard its voice. and, you know, when we want to do anything wicked, there is within every one of us something bad, that seems to whisper: "just look! mere looking will do no harm"; and then: "just taste; no one sees you." so the snake was the bad feeling in eve's heart. and their father took them by the hand, and said: "tomorrow, when it is dawn, you will have to leave this place. in this beautiful paradise no one can stay who has once disobeyed. you, adam, must learn to labor; and, you, eve, to be patient and self-denying for others. and, perhaps, after a long, long time, some day, you will come back with me into paradise again." it is a free rendering, i admit. i have filled in the details so as to bring it down to the level of children's minds, but the outlines, i think, are there. the points i have developed are all suggested in the bible. the temptation begins when the snake says with characteristic exaggeration: "is it true that of _all_ the fruit you are forbidden to eat?" exaggerating the hardships of the moral command is the first step on the downward road. the second step is eve's approach to look at the fruit--"and she saw that it was good for food, and pleasant to the eyes." the third step is the actual enjoyment of what is forbidden. the fourth step is the desire for companionship in guilt, so characteristic of sin--"and she gave also unto her husband with her, and he did eat." the next passage describes the working of conscience, the fear, the shame, the desire to hide, and then comes the moral verdict: you are guilty, both of you. you have lost your paradise. try to win it back by labor and suffering. note.--i would add to what has been said in the text, that the pupils are expected to return to the study of the bible, to read and re-read these stories, and to receive a progressively higher interpretation of their meaning as they grow older. if in the above i have spoken in a general way of a father and his two children, it will be easy for the sunday-school teacher to add later on that the father in the story was god. _cain and abel._ in teaching the story of the two brothers cain and abel the following points should be noted. the ancients believed that earthly prosperity and well-being depended on the favor of god, or the gods, and that the favor of the gods could be secured by sacrifice. if any one brought a sacrifice and yet prosperity did not set in, this was supposed to be a sign that his sacrifice had not been accepted. on the other hand, to say of any person that his sacrifice had been accepted, was tantamount to saying that he was happy and prosperous. applying this to the story of cain and abel, we may omit all mention of the bringing of the sacrifices, which presents a great and needless difficulty to children's minds, and simply make the equivalent statement that abel was prosperous and cain was not. again, cain is not represented as an intentional murderer. the true interpretation of the story depends on our bearing this in mind. it is erroneous to suppose that a brand was fixed on cain's forehead. the passage in question, correctly understood, means that god gave cain a sign to reassure him that he should not be regarded by men as a common murderer. with these prefatory remarks the story may be told somewhat as follows: long ago there lived two brothers. the name of the elder was cain, and of the younger abel. cain was a farmer. he toiled in the sweat of his brow, tilling the stubborn ground, taking out stones, building fences. winter and summer he was up before the sun, and yet, despite all his labor, things did not go well with him. his crops often failed through no fault of his. he never seemed to have an easy time. moreover, cain was of a proud disposition. honest he was, and truthful, but taciturn, not caring much to talk to people whom he met, but rather keeping to himself. abel, on the other hand, was a shepherd. he led, or seemed to lead, the most delightfully easy life. he followed his flocks from one pasture to another, watching them graze; and at noon he would often lie down in the shade of some leafy tree and play on his flute by the hour. he was a skillful musician, a bright, talkative companion, and universally popular. he was a little selfish too, as happy people sometimes are. he liked to talk about his successes, and, in a perfectly innocent way, which yet stung cain to the quick, he would rattle on to his brother about the increase of his herds, about his plans and prospects, and the pleasant things that people were saying of him. cain grew jealous of his brother abel. he did not like to confess it to himself, but yet it was a fact. he kept comparing his own life of grinding toil with the easy, lazy life of the shepherd--it was not quite so lazy, but so it seemed to cain--his own poverty with the other's wealth, his own loneliness with abel's popularity. and a frown would often gather on his brow, and he grew more and more moody and silent. he knew that he was not in the right state of mind. there was a voice within him that said: "sin is at thy door, but thou canst become master over it." sin is like a wild beast crouching outside the door of the heart. open the door ever so little, and it will force its way in, and will have you in its power. keep the door shut, therefore; do not let the first evil thought enter into your heart. thus only can you remain master of yourself. but cain was already too far gone to heed the warning voice. one day he and abel were walking together in the fields. abel, no doubt, was chatting in his usual gay and thoughtless manner. the world was full of sunshine to him; and he did not realize in the least what dark shadows were gathering about his brother's soul. perhaps the conversation ran somewhat as follows: he had just had an addition to his herd, the finest calf one could imagine: would not cain come to admire it? and then, to-morrow evening he was to play for the dancers on the green, at the village feast: would not cain join in the merry-making? when the solitary, embittered cain heard such talk as this the angry feeling in his heart rose up like a flood. overmastered by his passion, with a few wild, incoherent words of rage he turned upon his brother and struck him one fierce blow. ah, that was a relief! the pent-up feeling had found vent at last. the braggart had received the chastisement he deserved! and cain walked on; and for a time continued to enjoy his satisfaction. he had just noticed that abel, when struck, had staggered and fallen, but he did not mind that. "let him lie there for a while; he will pick himself up presently. he may be lame for a few days, and his milk-white face may not be so fair at the feast, but that will be all the better for him. it will teach him a lesson." nevertheless, when he had walked on for some distance he began to feel uneasy. he looked around from time to time to see whether abel was following him, and the voice of conscience began to be heard, saying, "cain, where is thy brother?" but he silenced it by saying to himself, "am i my brother's keeper? is he such a child that he can not take care of himself--that he can not stand a blow?" but he kept looking back more and more often, and when he saw no one coming, he came at last to a dead halt. his heart was beating violently by this time; the beads of perspiration were gathered on his brow. he turned back to seek his missing brother. then, as he did not meet him, he began to run, and faster and faster he ran, until at last, panting and out of breath, with a horrible fear hounding him on, he arrived at the place where he had struck the blow. and there he saw--a pool of blood, and the waxen face of his brother, and the glazed, broken eyes! and then he realized what he had done. and it is this situation which the bible has in view in the words, "behold, thy brother's blood cries up from the earth against thee." and then as he surveyed his deed in stony despair, he said to himself, "i am accursed from the face of the earth"--i am unworthy to live. the earth has no resting-place for such as i. but a sign was given him to show him that his life would not be required of him. he had not committed willful murder. he had simply given the reins to his violent passion. he must go into another land, where no one knew him, there through years of penance to try to regain his peace of soul. the moral of the story is: do not harbor evil thoughts in the mind. if you have once given them entrance, the acts to which they lead are beyond your control. cain's sin consisted in not crushing the feeling of envy in the beginning; in comparing his own lot with that of his more favored brother and dwelling on this comparison, until, in a fit of insane passion, he was led on to the unspeakable crime which, indeed, he had never contemplated, to which he had never given an inward assent. the story also illustrates the vain subterfuges with which we still seek to smother the consciousness of guilt after we have done wrong, until the time comes when our eyes are opened and we are compelled to face the consequences of our deeds and to realize them in all their bearings. the story of cain and abel is thus a further development of the theme already treated in simpler fashion in the story of adam and eve, only that, while in the latter case the filial duty of obedience to parents is in the foreground, attention is here directed to the duty which a brother owes to a brother. it is a striking tale, striking in the vividness with which it conjures up the circumstances before our minds and the clearness with which the principal motives are delineated; and it contains an awful warning for all time. the question here presents itself, whether we should arrange the biblical stories according to subjects--e. g., grouping together all those which treat of duty to parents, all those which deal with the relations of brothers to brothers, etc.--or whether we should adopt the chronological arrangement. on the whole, i am in favor of the latter. it is expected that the pupils, as they grow older, will undertake a more comprehensive study of the bible, and for this they will be better prepared if they have been kept to the chronological order from the outset. another more practical reason is, that children tire of one subject if it is kept before their minds too long. it is better, therefore, to arrange the stories in groups or cycles, each of which will afford opportunity to touch on a variety of moral topics. it will be impossible to continue to relate _in extenso_ the stories which i have selected, and i shall therefore content myself in the main with giving the points of each story upon which the teacher may lay stress. _the story of noah and his sons._ describe the beauty of the vine, and of the purple grapes hanging in clusters amid the green leaves. how sweet is this fruit to the taste! but the juice of it has a dangerous property. once there lived a man, noah, who had three sons. he planted a vine, plucked the grapes, but did not know the dangerous property of the juice. the second son, on seeing his father in a state of intoxication, allowed his sense of the ridiculous to overcome his feeling of reverence. but the eldest and the youngest sons acted differently. they took a garment, covered their father with it, and averted their faces so as not to see his disgrace. the moral is quite important. an intelligent child can not help detecting a fault now and then even in the best of parents. but the right course for him to take is to throw the mantle over the fault, and to turn away his face. he should say to himself: am i the one to judge my parents--i who have been the recipient of so many benefits at their hands, and who see in them so many virtues, so much superior wisdom? by such reasoning the feeling of reverence is even deepened. the momentary superiority which the child feels serves only to bring out his general inferiority. _the abraham cycle._ there is a whole series of stories belonging to this group, illustrating in turn the virtues of brotherly harmony, generosity toward the weak, hospitality toward strangers, and maternal love. abraham and lot are near kinsmen. their servants quarrel, and to avoid strife the former advises a separation. "if thou wilt go to the left," he says, "i will turn to the right; if thou preferrest the land to the right, i will take the left." abraham, being the older, was entitled to the first choice, but he waived his claim. lot chose the fairer portion, and abraham willingly assented. "let there be no strife between us, for we be brethren." the lesson is, that the older and wiser of two brothers or kinsmen may well yield a part of his rights for harmony's sake. abraham's conduct toward the king of sodom is an instance of generosity. the story of the destruction of sodom and gomorrah may be introduced by describing the dead sea and the surrounding scene of desolation. the moral lies in the circumstance that ill treatment of strangers brought down the doom. hospitality toward strangers is one of the shining virtues of the old testament heroes. even at the present day strangers are still despised and ridiculed by the vulgar, their foreign manners, language, and habits seeming contemptible; the lesson of hospitality is not yet superfluous. the story of _hagar and her child_ i should recast in such a way as to exclude what in it is repellent, and retain the touching picture of maternal affection. i should relate it somewhat as follows: there was once a little lad whose name was ishmael. he had lost his father and had only his mother to cling to. she was a tall, beautiful lady, with dark eyes which were often very sad, but they would light up, and there was always a sweet smile on her lips whenever she looked at her darling boy. ishmael and his mother, hagar, had never been separated; they were all in all to each other. one day it happened that they walked away from their home, which was near the great, sandy desert. ishmael's mother was in deep distress, there was something troubling her, and every now and then a tear would steal down her cheeks. ishmael was sad, too, because his mother was, but he did not dare to ask her what it was that grieved her, fearing to give her pain. so they walked on and on, holding each other's hands in silence. but at last they saw that they had lost their way; and they tried first one direction, and then another, thinking that it would bring them back toward home, but they only got deeper and deeper into the vast, lonely desert. and the sun burned hot and hotter above their heads, and little ishmael, who had tried to keep up like a brave lad, at last became so parched with thirst, and so faint with want of food, and so tired with walking--for they had wandered about for many, many hours--that he could go on no farther. then his mother took him up in her arms and laid him under a bush, where there was a little shade. and then, oh then, how her poor heart was wrung, and how she wept to see her darling in such suffering, and how she cried for help! then she sat down on the glaring sand at some distance away, and turned her face in the direction opposite to where ishmael was lying; for she said, "i can not bear to see my boy die." but just as she had given up all hope, suddenly she saw a noble-looking man, wearing the dress of the bedouins, approach her. he had come from behind one of the sand hills, and it seemed to her as if he had come down straight from the sky. he asked her why she was in such grief, and when she told him, and pointed to her little son, he said: "it is fortunate that you have come to this place. there is a beautiful oasis close by." an oasis, children, is a spot of fruitful green earth right in the midst of the desert, like an island in the ocean. and the man took the boy up and carried him in his arms, and hagar followed after him. and presently, when they came to the oasis, they found a cool, clear spring, full of the most delicious water, and palm-trees with ever so many dates on them, and all the people who lived there gathered around them. and the man who had been so kind proved to be the chief. and he took charge of ishmael's education, showed him how to shoot with the bow and how to hunt, and was like a real father to him. and when ishmael grew up he became a great chief of the bedouins. but he always remained true to his mother, and loved her with all his heart. i am strongly in favor of omitting the story of the _sacrifice of isaac_. i do not think we can afford to tell young children that a father was prepared to draw the knife against his own son, even though he desisted in the end. i should not be willing to inform a child that so horrible an impulse could have been entertained even for a moment in a parent's heart. i regard the story, indeed, as, from an historical point of view, one of the most valuable in the bible; it has a deep meaning; but it is not food fit for children. a great mistake has been made all along in supposing that whatever is true in religion must be communicated to children; and that if anything be very true and very important we ought to hasten to give it to children as early as possible; but there must be preparatory training. and the greatest truths are often of such a kind as only the mature mind, ripe in thought and experience, is fitted to assimilate. one of the most charming idyls of patriarchal times is the story of _rebecca at the well_. it illustrates positively, as the story of sodom does negatively, the duty of hospitality toward strangers. "drink, lord, and i will give thy camels drink also," is a pleasant phrase which is apt to stick in the memory. moreover, the story shows the high place which the trusted servant occupied in the household of his master, and offers to the teacher an opportunity of dwelling on the respect due to faithful servants. _the jacob cycle._ what treatment shall jacob receive at our hands, he, the sly trickster, who cheats his brother of his birthright and steals a father's blessing? yet he is one of the patriarchs, and is accorded the honorable title of "champion of god." to hold him up to the admiration of the young is impossible. to gloss over his faults and try to explain them away were a sorry business, and honesty forbids. the bible itself gives us the right clew. his faults are nowhere disguised. he is represented as a person who makes a bad start in life--a very bad start, indeed--but who pays the penalty of his wrong-doing. his is a story of penitential discipline. in telling the story, all reference to the duplicity of rebecca should be omitted, for the same reason that malicious step-mothers and cruel fathers have been excluded from the fairy tales. the points to be discussed may be summarized as follows: _taking advantage of a brother in distress._--jacob purchases the birthright for a mess of pottage. _tender attachment to a helpless old father._--esau goes out hunting to supply a special delicacy for his father's table. this is a point which children will appreciate. unable to confer material benefits on their parents, they can only show their love by slight attentions. _deceit._--jacob simulates the appearance of his older brother and steals the blessing. in this connection it will be necessary to say that a special power was supposed to attach to a father's blessing, and that the words once spoken were deemed irrevocable. _jacob's penitential discipline begins._--the deceiver is deceived, and made to feel in his own person the pain and disappointment which deceit causes. he is repeatedly cheated by his master laban, especially in the matter which is nearest to him, his love for rachel. _the forgiveness of injuries._--esau's magnanimous conduct toward his brother. _the evil consequences of tale-bearing and conceit._--it is a significant fact that joseph is not a mere coxcomb. he is a man of genius, as his later career proves, and the stirrings of his genius manifest themselves in his early dreams of future greatness. persons of this description are not always pleasant companions, especially in their youth. they have not yet accomplished anything to warrant distinction, and yet they feel within themselves the presentiment of a destiny and of achievements above the ordinary. their faults, their arrogance, their seemingly preposterous claims, are not to be excused, but neither is the envy they excite excusable. one of the hardest things to learn is to recognize without envy the superiority of a brother. _moral cowardice._--reuben is guilty of moral cowardice. he was an opportunist, who sought to accomplish his ends by diplomacy. if he, as the oldest brother, had used his authority and boldly denounced the contemplated crime, he might have averted the long train of miseries that followed. _strength and depth of paternal love._--"joseph is no more: an evil beast has devoured him. i will go mourning for my son joseph into the grave." it is a piece of poetic justice that jacob, who deceived his father in the matter of the blessing by covering himself with the skin of a kid, is himself deceived by the blood of a kid of the goats with which the coat of joseph had been stained. in speaking of the temptation of joseph in the house of potiphar, it is enough to say that the wife conspired against her husband, and endeavored to induce joseph to betray his master. a pretty addition to the story is to be found in the talmud, to the effect that joseph saw in imagination the face of his father before him in the moment of temptation, and was thereby strengthened to resist. _the light of a superior mind can not be hidden even in a prison._--joseph wins the favor of his fellow-prisoners, and an opportunity is thus opened to him to exercise his talents on the largest scale. _affliction chastens._--the famine had in the mean time spread to palestine. the shadow of the grief for joseph still lay heavily on the household of the patriarch. joseph is lost; shall benjamin, too, perish? it is pleasant to observe that the character of the brothers in the mean time has been changed for the better. there is evidently a lurking sense of guilt and a desire to atone for it in the manner in which judah pledges himself for the safety of the youngest child. and the same marked change is visible in the conduct of all the brothers on the journey. the stratagem of the cup was cunningly devised to test their feelings. they might have escaped by throwing the blame on benjamin. instead of that, they dread nothing so much as that he may have to suffer, and are willing to sacrifice everything to save him. when this new spirit has become thoroughly apparent, the end to which the whole group of jacob stories pointed all along is reached; the work of moral regeneration is complete. jacob himself has been purified by affliction, and the brothers and joseph have been developed by the same hard taskmaster into true men. the scene of recognition which follows, when the great vice-regent orders his attendants from the apartment and embraces those who once attempted his life, with the words, "i am joseph, your brother: does my father still live?" is touching in the extreme, and the whole ends happily in a blaze of royal pomp, like a true eastern tale. a word as to the _method_ which should be used in teaching these stories. if the fairy tale holds the moral element in solution, if the fable drills the pupil in distinguishing one moral trait at a time, the biblical stories exhibit a combination of moral qualities, or, more precisely, the interaction of moral causes and effects; and it is important for the teacher to give expression to this difference in the manner in which he handles the stories. thus, in the fables we have simply one trait, like ingratitude, and its immediate consequences. the snake bites the countryman, and is cast out; there the matter ends. in the story of joseph we have, first, the partiality of the father, which produces or encourages self-conceit in the son; joseph's conceit produces envy in the brothers. this envy reacts on all concerned--on joseph, who in consequence is sold into slavery; on the father, who is plunged into inconsolable grief; on the brothers, who nearly become murderers. the servitude of joseph destroys his conceit and develops his nobler nature. industry, fidelity, and sagacity raise him to high power. the sight of the constant affliction of their father on account of joseph's loss mellows the heart of the brothers, etc. it is this interweaving of moral causes and effects that gives to the stories their peculiar value. they are true moral pictures; and, like the pictures used in ordinary object lessons, they serve to train the power of observation. trained observation, however, is the indispensable preliminary of correct moral judgment. _the moses cycle._ the figures of the patriarchs and the prophets appeal to us with a fresh interest the moment we regard them as human beings like ourselves, who were tempted as we are, who struggled as we are bound to do, and who acted, howsoever the divine economy might supervene, on their own responsibility. looked at from this point of view, the figure of moses, the liberator, approaches our sympathies at the same time that he towers in imposing proportions above our level. let us briefly review his career. like arminius at a later day, he is educated at the court of the enemies of his people. in dress, in manners, in speech, he doubtless resembles the grandees of pharaoh's court. when he approaches the well in midian, the daughter of jethro exclaims, "behold, an egyptian is coming!" but at heart he remains a hebrew, and is deeply touched by the cruel sufferings of his race. his first public intervention on their behalf takes place when he strikes down and kills a native overseer whom he detects in the act of maltreating a hebrew slave. this is characteristic of the manner in which reformers begin. they direct their first efforts against the particular consequences of some great general wrong. later on they perceive the uselessness of such a procedure and take heart to attack the evil at its source. moses flees into the desert. the lonely life he leads there is necessary to the development of his ideas. solitude is essential to the growth of genius. the burning bush is the outward symbol of an inward fact. the fire which can not be quenched is in his own breast, and out of that inward burning he hears more and more distinctly the voice which bids him go back and free his people. but when he considers the means at his disposal, when in fancy he sees his people, a miserable horde of slaves, pitted against the armed hosts of pharaoh, he is ready to despair; until he hears the comforting voice, which says, "the eternal is with thee; the unchangeable power of right is on thy side: it will prevail!" like jeremiah, like isaiah, like all great reformers, moses is profoundly imbued with the sense of his unfitness for the task laid upon him. he pleads that he is heavy of speech. he can only stammer forth the message of freedom. but he is reassured by the thought that a brother will be found, that helpers will arise, that the thought which he can barely formulate will be translated by other lesser men into a form suitable for the popular understanding. he returns to egypt to find that the greatest obstacle in his way is the lethargy and unbelief of the very people whom he wishes to help. this again is a typical feature of his career. the greatest trials of the reformer are due not to the open enmity of the oppressor, but to the meanness, the distrust and jealousy, of those whom oppression has degraded. at last, however, the miracle of salvation is wrought, the weak prevail over the mighty, the cause of justice triumphs against all apparent odds to the contrary. the slaves rise against their masters, the flower of egyptian chivalry is destroyed. pharaoh rallies his army and sets out in pursuit. but the hebrews, under moses's guidance, have gained the start, and escape into the wilderness in safety. freedom is a precious opportunity--no more. its value depends on the use to which it is put. and therefore, no sooner was the act of liberation accomplished, than the great leader turned to the task of positive legislation, the task of developing a higher moral life among his people. but here a new and keener disappointment awaited him. when he descended from the mount, the glow of inspiration still upon his face, the tablets of the law in his hand, he saw the people dancing about the golden calf. it is at this moment that michel angelo, deeply realizing the human element in the biblical story, has represented the form of the liberator in the colossal figure which was destined for pope julius's tomb. "the right foot is slightly advanced; the long beard trembles with the emotion which quivers through the whole frame; the eyes flash indignant wrath; the right hand grasps the tablets of the law; in another moment, we see it plainly, he will leap from his sitting posture and shatter the work which he has made upon the rocks." this trait, too, is typical. many a leader of a noble cause has felt, in moments of deep disappointment, as if he could shatter the whole work of his life. many a man, in like situation, has said to himself: the people are willing enough to hail the message of the higher law to-day, but to-morrow they sink back into their dull, degraded condition, as if the vision from the mount had never been reported to them. let me, then, leave them to their dreary ways, to dance about their golden calf. but a better and stronger mood prevailed in moses. he ascended once more to the summit, and there prostrated himself in utter self-renunciation and self-effacement. he asked nothing for himself, only that the people whom he loved might be benefited ever so little, be raised ever so slowly above their low condition. and again the questioning spirit came upon him, and he said, as many another has said: the paths of progress are dark and twisted; the course of history seems so often to be in the wrong direction. how can i be sure that there is such a thing as eternal truth--that the right will prevail in the end? and then there came to him that grand revelation, the greatest, as i think, and the most sublime in the old testament, when the eternal voice answered his doubt, and said: "thou wouldst know my ways, but canst not. no living being can see my face; only from the rearward canst thou know me." as a ship sails through the waters and leaves its wake behind, so the divine power passes through the world and leaves behind the traces by which it can be known. and what are those traces? justice and mercy. cherish, therefore, the divine element in thine own nature, and thou wilt see it reflected in the world about thee. wouldst thou be sure that there is such a thing as a divine power? be thyself just and merciful. and so moses descended again to his people, and became exceeding charitable in spirit. the bible says: "the man moses was exceeding humble; there was no one more humble than he on the face of the earth." he bore with resignation their complaints, their murmurings, their alternate cowardice and foolhardiness. he was made to feel, like many another in his place, that his foes were they of his own household. he had an only brother and an only sister. his brother and sister rose up against him. his kinsmen, too, revolted from him. he endured all their weakness, all their follies; he sought to lift them by slow degrees to the height of his own aims. he set the paths of life and death before them, and told them that the divine word can not be found by crossing the seas or by searching the heavens, but must be found in the human heart; and if men find it not there they will find it nowhere else. and so, at last, his pilgrimage drew to a close. he had reached the confines of palestine. once more he sought the mountain-top, and there beheld the promised land stretching far away--the land which his eyes were to see but which he was never to enter. few great reformers, indeed few men who have started a great movement in history, and have been the means of producing deep and permanent changes in the ideas and institutions of society, have lived to see those changes consummated. the course of evolution is slow, and the reformer can hope at best to see the promised land from afar--as in a dream. happy he if, like moses, he retains the force of his convictions unabated, if his spiritual sight remains undimmed, if the splendid vision which attended him in the beginning inspires and consoles him to the end. the narrative which has thus been sketched touches on some of the weightiest problems of human existence, and deals with motives both complex and lofty. i have entered into the interpretation of these motives for the purpose of showing that they are too complex and too lofty to be within the comprehension of children, and that it is an error, though unfortunately a common one, to attempt to use the grand career of a reformer and liberator as a text for the moral edification of the very young. they are wholly unprepared to understand, and that which is not understood, if forced on the attention, awakens repugnance and disgust. few of those who have been compelled to study the life of moses in their childhood have ever succeeded in conquering this repugnance, or have drawn from it, even in later life, the inspiration and instruction which it might otherwise have afforded them. for our primary course, however, we can extract a few points interesting even to children, thus making them familiar with the name of moses, and preparing the way for a deeper interest later on. the incidents of the story which i should select are these: the child moses exposed on the nile; the good sister watching over his safety; the kind princess adopting him as her son; the sympathy manifested by him for his enslaved brethren despite his exemption from their misfortunes. the killing of the egyptian should be represented as a crime, palliated but not excused by the cruelty of the overseer. special stress may be laid upon the chivalric conduct of moses toward the young girls at the well of midian. the teacher may then go on to say that moses, having succeeded in freeing his people from the power of the egyptian king, became their chief, that many wise laws are ascribed to him, etc. the story of the spies, and of the end of moses, may also be briefly told. the mention of the laws of moses leads me to offer a suggestion. i have remarked above that children should be taught to observe moral pictures before any attempt is made to deduce moral principles; but certain _simple rules_ should be given even to the very young--must, indeed, be given them for their guidance. now, in the legislation ascribed to moses we find a number of rules fit for children, and a collection of these rules might be made for the use of schools. they should be committed to memory by the pupils, and perhaps occasionally recited in chorus. i have in mind such rules as these:[ ] . ye shall not lie. (many persons who pay attention only to the decalogue, and forget the legislation of which it forms a part, seem not to be aware that there is in the pentateuch [lev. xix, ] a distinct commandment against lying.) . ye shall not deceive one another. . ye shall take no bribe. . honor thy father and thy mother. . every one shall reverence his mother and his father. (note that the father is placed first in the one passage and the mother first in the other, to indicate the equal title of both to their children's reverence.) . thou shalt not speak disrespectfully of those in authority. . before the hoary head thou shalt rise and pay honor to the aged. . thou shalt not spread false reports. . thou shalt not go about as a tale-bearer among thy fellows. . thou shalt not hate thy neighbor in thy heart, but shalt warn him of his evil-doing. . thou shalt not bear a grudge against any, but thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. . thou shalt not speak evil of the deaf (thinking that he can not hear thee), nor put an obstacle in the way of the blind. . if there be among you a poor man, thou shalt not harden thy heart, nor shut thy hand from thy poor brother, but thou shalt open thy hand wide unto him, and shalt surely lend him sufficient for his need. . if thou seest the property of thine enemy threatened with destruction, thou shalt do thy utmost to save it. . if thou findest what is not thine own, and the owner is not known to thee, guard it carefully, that thou mayest restore it to its rightful owner. . thou shalt not do evil because many others are doing the same evil. bearing grudges, lying, mocking those who (like the deaf and blind) are afflicted with personal defects, appropriating what is found without attempting to discover the owner, seeking to excuse wrong on the plea that many others are guilty of it--all these are forms of moral evil with which children are perfectly familiar, and against which they need to be warned. it is more than strange that such commandments as the sixth and eighth of the decalogue (the commandment against murder and against adultery, forsooth), which are inapplicable to little children, should be made so much of in primary moral instruction, while those other commandments which do come home to them are often overlooked. the theory here expounded, that moral teaching should keep pace with the experience and intelligence of the child, should save us from such mistakes. to proceed with the stories, the book of joshua offers nothing that we can turn to account, nor do the stories of jael, deborah, and gideon contain moral lessons fit for the young. sour milk is not proper food for children, nor do those stories afford the proper moral food in which, so to speak, the milk of human kindness has turned sour. the labors of samson, the hebrew hercules, are likewise unfit to be used at this stage, at least for the purpose of moral instruction. the story of the daughter of jephtha, the hebrew iphigenia, is exquisitely pathetic, but it involves the horrible idea of human sacrifice, and therefore had better be omitted. the acts and speeches of samuel mark an epoch in the history of the hebrew religion, and are of profound interest to the scholar. but there are certain features, such as the killing of agag, which would have to be eliminated in any case; then the theological and moral elements are so blended that it would be difficult if not impossible to separate them; and altogether the character of this mighty ancient seer, this hebrew warwick, this king-maker and enemy of kings, is above the comprehension of primary scholars. we shall therefore omit the whole intervening period, and pass at once from the moses cycle to _the david cycle._ the first story of this group is that of _naomi and ruth_, the ancestress of david. upon the matchless beauty of this tale it is unnecessary to expatiate. i wish to remark, however, in passing that it illustrates as well as any other--better perhaps than any other--the peculiar art of the biblical narrative to which we have referred above. if any one at the present day were asked to decide whether a woman placed in ruth's situation would act rightly in leaving her home and following an aged mother-in-law to a distant country, how many pros and cons would he have to weigh before he would be able to say yes or no? are her own parents still living, and are they so situated that she is justified in leaving them? are there other blood relations who have a prior claim on her? has she raised expectations at home which she ought not to disappoint, or undertaken duties which ought not to be set aside in deference to a sentiment no matter how noble? of all such side issues and complications of duty which would render a decision like hers difficult in modern times, the story as we have it before us is cleared. all minor traits are suppressed. it is assumed that she has a right to go if she pleases, and the mind is left free to dwell, unimpeded by any counter-considerations, upon the beauty of her choice. this choice derives its excellence from the fact that it was perfectly free. there was no tie of consanguinity between naomi and her. the two women were related in such a way that the bond might either be drawn more tightly or severed without blame. orpah, too, pitied her mother-in-law. she wept, but she returned to her home. we can not, on that account, condemn her. it was not her bounden duty to go. ruth, on the other hand, might perhaps have satisfied her more sensitive conscience by accompanying her mother-in-law as far as bethlehem, and then returning to moab. but she preferred instead exile and the hardships of a life among strangers. not being a daughter, she freely took upon herself the duties of a daughter; and it is this that constitutes the singular merit of her action. in telling the story it is best to follow the original as closely as possible. "entreat me not to leave thee, nor to desist from following after thee, for whither thou goest, i will go; and where thou lodgest, i will lodge: thy people shall be my people: where thou diest will i die and there will i be buried." where in universal literature shall we find words more eloquent of tender devotion than these? it will be noticed that i have left out the phrase "and thy god shall be my god" for two reasons. no matter how much we may love another person, religious convictions ought to be held sacred. we have no right to give up our convictions even for affection's sake. moreover, the words correctly understood are really nothing but an amplification of what has preceded. the language of ruth refers throughout to the proposed change of country. "whither thou goest, i will go; where thou lodgest, i will lodge: thy folk shall be my folk; where thou diest, i will die." and the phrase "thy god shall be my god" has the same meaning. the ancients believed that every country has its god, and to say "thy god shall be my god" was tantamount to saying "thy country shall be my country." it is better, therefore, to omit these words. were we to retain them, the impression might be created that ruth contemplated a change of religion merely to please the aged naomi, and such a step from a moral point of view would be unwarrantable. it was this gentile woman ruth who became the ancestress of the royal house of david. the story of _david's life_ is replete with dramatic interest. it may be arranged in a series of pictures. first picture: david and goliath--i. e., skill pitted against brute strength, or the deserved punishment of a bully. every boy takes comfort in this story. second picture: david and jonathan, their arms twined about each other's neck, a beautiful example of youthful friendship. especially should the unselfishness of jonathan be noted. he, the hebrew crown prince, so far from being jealous of his rival, recognized the superior qualities of the latter and served him with the most generous fidelity. third picture: david the harper, playing before the gloomy, moody king, whom an evil spirit has possessed. it should be noted how difficult is the task incumbent upon jonathan of combining his duty to his father and his affection for his friend. yet he fails in neither. fourth picture: david's loyalty manifest. he has the monarch in his power in the camp, in the cave, and proves that there is no evil intention in his mind. the words of saul are very touching, "is it thy voice i hear, my son david?" fifth picture: the battle, the tragical end of saul and jonathan. the dirge of david floats above the field: "the beauty of israel is slain upon the high places. how are the mighty fallen!" etc. a second series of pictures now begins. david is crowned king, first by his clansmen, then by the united tribes. david, while besieging bethlehem, is athirst and there is no water. three of his soldiers cut their way to the well near the gate, which is guarded by the enemy, and bring back a cup of water. he refuses it, saying: "it is not water, but the blood of the men who have risked their lives for me." omitting the story of bathsheba, we come next to the rebellion of absalom. the incidents of this rebellion may be depicted as follows: first, absalom in his radiant beauty at the feast of the sheep-shearer. next, absalom at the gate playing the demagogue, secretly inciting the people to revolt. next, david ascending mount olivet weeping, the base shimei, going along a parallel ridge, flinging stones at the king and reviling him. david remarks: "if my own son seek my life, how shall i be angry with this benjamite?" next, the death of absalom in the wood. finally, david at the gate receiving the news of absalom's death, and breaking forth into the piercing cry: "o my son absalom, my son, my son absalom! would god i had died for thee! o absalom, my son, my son!" it is the story of a rebellious and undutiful child, and illustrates by contrast the unfathomable depth of a father's love, of a love that yearns even over the wicked, over the lost. the points of the stories included in the david cycle are: skill and courage triumphant over brute strength, unselfish friendship, loyalty, a leader's generosity toward his followers, and parental love. the arrangement of the words in the lament of david for his son deserves to be specially noted. it corresponds to and vividly describes the rhythmic movements of the emotions excited by great sorrow. from the life of solomon we select only the judgment, related in i kings, iii. we may compare with it a similar story, showing, however, interesting variations, in the jataka tales. with this our selections from the old testament narrative come to an end. the ideal types are exhausted, and the figures which now appear upon the scene stand before us in the dry light of history. from the new testament we select for the primary course the story of the good samaritan, as illustrative of true charity. selected passages from the sermon on the mount may also be explained and committed to memory. the beatitudes, however, and the parables lie outside our present limits, presupposing as they do a depth of spiritual experience which is lacking in children. note.--it should be remembered that the above selections have been made with a view to their being included in a course of unsectarian moral instruction. such a course must not express the religious tenets of any sect or denomination. much that has here been omitted, however, can be taught in the sunday schools, the existence of which alongside of the daily schools is, as i have said, presupposed in these lectures. i have simply tried to cull the moral meaning of the stories, leaving, as i believe, the way open for divergent religious interpretations of the same stories. but i realize that the religious teacher may claim the bible wholly for his own, and may not be willing to share even a part of its treasure with the moral teacher. if this be so, then these selections from the bible, for the present, at all events, will have to be omitted. they can, nevertheless, be used by judicious parents, and some if not all of the suggestions they contain may prove acceptable to teachers of sunday schools. footnotes: [ ] in his introduction to homer. [ ] i have taken the liberty of altering the language here and there, for reasons that will be obvious in each case. x the odyssey and the iliad. as we leave the field of biblical literature and turn to the classic epic of greece, a new scene spreads out before us, new forms and faces crowd around us, we breathe a different atmosphere. the poems of homer among the greeks occupied a place in many respects similar to that of the bible among the hebrews. at athens there was a special ordinance that the homeric poems should be recited once every fourth year at the great panathenaic festival. on this occasion the rhapsode, standing on an elevated platform, arrayed in rich robes, with a golden wreath about his head, addressed an audience of many thousands. the poems were made the subject of mystical, allegorical, and rationalistic interpretation, precisely as was the case with the text of the bible. as late as the first century of our era, the first book placed in the hands of children, the book from which they learned to read and write, was homer. xenophon in the symposium has one of the guests say: "my father, anxious that i should become a good man, made me learn all the poems of homer, and now i could repeat the whole iliad and odyssey by heart."[ ] we shall not go quite to the same length as xenophon. we should hardly think it sufficient in order to make a good man of a boy to place homer in his hands. but we do believe that the knowledge of the homeric poems, introduced at the right time and in the right way, will contribute to such a result. let us, however, examine more closely in what the value of these poems consists. ulysses is the hero of the odyssey, achilles of the iliad. ulysses is pre-eminently the type of resourceful intelligence, achilles of valor. in what way will these types appeal to our pupils? as the boy develops beyond the early period of childhood, there shows itself in him a spirit of adventure. this has been noticed by all careful educators. now, there is a marked difference between the spirit of adventure and the spirit of play. play consists in the free exercise of our faculties. its characteristic mark is the absence of taxing effort. the child is said to be at play when it frolics in the grass, when it leaps or runs a race, or when it imitates the doings of its elders. as soon, however, as the exertion required in carrying on a game becomes appreciable, the game is converted into a task and loses its charm. the spirit of adventure, on the contrary, is called forth by obstacles; it delights in the prospect of difficulties to be overcome; it is the sign of a fresh and apparently boundless energy, which has not yet been taught its limitations by the rough contact with realities. the spirit of adventure begins to develop in children when the home life no longer entirely contents them, when they wish to be freed from the constraint of dependence on others, when it seems to them as if the whole world lay open to them and they could dare and do almost anything. it is at this time that children love to read tales of travel, and especially tales of the sea, of shipwreck, and hair-breadth escapes, of monsters slain by dauntless heroes, of rescue and victory, no matter how improbable or impossible the means. now success in such adventures depends largely on courage. and it is good for children to have examples even of physical courage set before them, provided it be not brutal. the craven heart ought to be despised. mere good intentions ought not to count. unless one has the resolute will, the fearless soul, that can face difficulties and danger without flinching, he will never be able to do a man's work in the world. this lesson should be imprinted early. a second prerequisite of success is presence of mind, or what has been called above resourceful intelligence. and this quality is closely allied with the former. presence of mind is the result of bravery. the mind will act even in perilous situations if it be not paralyzed by fear. it is fear that causes the wheels of thought to stop. if one can only keep off the clog of fear, the mind will go on revolving and often find a way of escape where there seemed none. be not a coward, be brave and clear-headed in the midst of peril--these are lessons the force of which is appreciated by the growing pupil. the iliad and odyssey teach them on every page. bravery and presence of mind, it is true, are commonly regarded as worldly, rather than as, in the strict sense, moral qualities. however that may be--and i, for one, am inclined to rank true courage and true presence of mind among the highest manifestations of the moral nature--these qualities when they show themselves in the young soon exert a favorable influence on the whole character, and serve especially to transform the attitude of the child toward its parents. hitherto the young child has been content to be the mere recipient of favors; as soon as the new consciousness of strength, the new sense of independence and manliness has developed, the son begins to feel that he would like to give to his parents as well as to receive from them; to be of use to his father, and to confer benefits, as far as he is able, in the shape of substantial services. these remarks will find their application in the analysis of the odyssey, which we shall presently attempt. the odyssey is a tale of the sea. ulysses is the type of sagacity, as well as of bravery, his mind teems with inventions. in the boy telemachus we behold a son struggling to cut loose from his mother's leading-strings, and laudably ambitious to be of use to his parents. in the odyssey we gain a distinct advance upon the moral results obtained from the study of the biblical stories. in the bible it is chiefly the love of parents for their children which is dwelt upon, in the odyssey the devotion of children to their parents; and this, of course, marks a later stage. in the odyssey, too, the conjugal relation comes into the foreground. in the bible, the love of the husband for his wife is repeatedly touched upon. but the love of the wife for the husband is not equally emphasized, and the relations between the two do not receive particular attention. the joint authority of both parents over their children is the predominant fact, the delicate bonds of feeling which subsist between the parents themselves are not in view. and this again corresponds to the earlier stage of childhood. the young child perceives the joint love which father and mother bear toward it, and feels the joint authority which they exercise over it. but as the child grows up, its eyes are opened to perceive more clearly the love which the parents bear to one another, and its affection for both is fed and the desire to serve them is strengthened by this new insight. thus it is in the odyssey. the yearning of ulysses for his wife, the fidelity of penelope during twenty years of separation, are the leading theme of the narrative, and the effect of this love upon their son is apparent throughout the poem. let us now consider the ethical elements of the odyssey in some detail, arranging them under separate heads. . _conjugal affection._ ulysses has been for seven years a prisoner in the cave of calypso. the nymph of the golden hair offers him the gift of immortality if he will consent to be her husband, but he is proof against her blandishments, and asks for nothing but to be dismissed, so that he may see his dear home and hold his own true wife once more in his arms. "apart upon the shore he sat and sorrowed. and oft in tears and sighs and vain repinings passed the hours, gazing with wet eyes on the barren deep."[ ] i would remark that, as the poem is too long to be read through entirely, and as there are passages in it which should be omitted, it is advisable for the teacher to narrate the story, quoting, however, such passages as give point to the narrative or have a special beauty of their own. read the description of calypso's cave v, , ff. penelope meantime is patiently awaiting her husband's return. read the passages which describe her great beauty, especially that lovely word-picture in which she is described as standing by a tall column in the hall, a maid on either side, a veil hiding her lustrous face, while she addresses the suitors. the noblest princes of ithaca and the surrounding isles entreat her hand in marriage, and, thinking that ulysses will never return, hold high revels in his house, and shamelessly consume his wealth. read the passage ii, - , describing penelope's device to put off the suitors, and at the same time to avert the danger which would have threatened her son in case she had openly broken with the chiefs. the love of penelope is further set vividly before us by many delicate touches. every stranger who arrives in ithaca is hospitably entertained by the queen, and loaded with gifts, in the hope that he may bring her some news of her absent lord, and often she is deceived by wretches who speculate on her credulous grief. see the passage xiv, . during the day she is busy with her household cares, overseeing her maids, and seeking to divert her mind by busy occupation; but at night the silence and the solitude become intolerable, and she weeps her eyes out on her lonely couch. how the love of penelope influences her boy, who was a mere babe when his father left for troy, how the whole atmosphere of the house is charged with the sense of expectancy of the master's return, is shown in the passage ii, , where telemachus says: "nurse, let sweet wine be drawn into my jars, the finest next to that which thou dost keep, expecting our unhappy lord, if yet the nobly born ulysses shall escape the doom of death and come to us again." the best cheer, the finest wine, the best of everything is kept ready against the father's home-coming, which may be looked for any day, if haply he has escaped the doom of death. there is one passage in which we might suspect that the poet has intended to show the hardening effect of grief on penelope's character, xv, . penelope does not speak to her old servants any more; she passes them by without a word, apparently without seeing them. she does not attend to their wants as she used to do, and they, in turn, do not dare to address her. but we may forgive this seeming indifference inasmuch as it only shows how completely she is absorbed by her sorrow. a companion picture to the love of ulysses and penelope is to be found in the conjugal relation of alcinous, king of phæacia, and his wife arete, as described in the sixth book and the following. this whole episode is incomparably beautiful. was there ever a more perfect embodiment of girlish grace and modesty, coupled with sweetest frankness, than nausicaa? and what a series of lovely pictures is made to pass in quick succession before our eyes as we read the story! first, nausicaa, moved by the desire to prepare her wedding garments against her unknown lover's coming, not ashamed to acknowledge the motive to her own pure heart, but veiling it discreetly before her mother; then the band of maidens setting out upon their picnic party, nausicaa holding the reins; next the washing of the garments, the bath, the game of ball, the sudden appearance of ulysses, the flight of her companions, the brave girl being left to keep her place alone, with a courage born of pity for the stranger, and of virtuous womanhood. "alone the daughter of alcinous kept her place, for pallas gave her courage and forbade her limb to tremble. so she waited there." who that has inhaled the fragrance of her presence from these pages can ever forget the white-armed nausicaa! then follows the picture of the palace, a feast for the imagination, the most magnificent description, i think, in the whole poem. "for on every side beneath the lofty roof of that magnanimous king a glory shone as of the summer moons." read from l. - , book vii. next we witness the splendid hospitality proffered to the stranger guest. for again and again in this poem the noble sentiment is repeated, that the stranger and the poor are sent from jove. then we see ulysses engaged in the games, outdoing the rest, or standing aside and watching "the twinkle of the dancer's feet." the language, too, used on these occasions is strikingly noble, so courteous and well-chosen, so simple and dignified, conveying rich meanings in the fewest possible words. what can be finer, e. g., than nausicaa's farewell to ulysses? "now, when the maids had seen him bathed, and had anointed him with oil, and put his sumptuous mantle on, and tunic, forth he issued from the bath, and came to those who sat before their wine. nausicaa, goddess-like in beauty, stood beside a pillar of that noble roof, and, looking on ulysses as he passed, admired, and said to him in winged words-- 'stranger, farewell, and in thy native land remember thou hast owed thy life to me.'" nausicaa, it is evident, loves ulysses; she stands beside a pillar, a favorite attitude for beautiful women with homer, and as ulysses passes, she addresses to him those few words so fraught with tenderness and renunciation. ulysses's own speech to arete, too, is a model of simplicity and dignity, possessing, it seems to me, something of the same quality which we admire in the speeches of othello. but throughout this narrative, pre-eminent above all the other figures in it is the figure of the queen herself, of arete. such a daughter as nausicaa could only come from such a mother. to her ulysses is advised to address his supplication. she is the wise matron, the peace-maker who composes the angry feuds of the men. and she possesses the whole heart and devotion of her husband. "her alcinous made his wife and honored her as nowhere else on earth is any woman honored who bears charge over a husband's household. from their hearts her children pay her reverence, and the king and all the people, for they look on her as if she were a goddess. when she goes abroad into the streets, all welcome her with acclamations. never does she fail in wise discernment, but decides disputes kindly and justly between man and man. and if thou gain her favor there is hope that thou mayst see thy friends once more." we have then as illustrations of conjugal fidelity: the main picture, ulysses and penelope; the companion picture, alcinous and arete; and, as a foil to set off both, there looms up every now and then in the course of the poem, that unhappy pair, agamemnon and clytemnestra, the latter, the type of conjugal infidelity, from which the soul of homer revolts. this foil is very skillfully used. at the very end of the poem, when everything is hastening toward a happy consummation, ulysses having slain the suitors and being about to be reunited with his wife, we are introduced into the world of shades, where the ghost of agamemnon once more rehearses the story of clytemnestra's treachery. at that moment the spirits of the suitors come flying down to hades, and the happier destiny of ulysses is thus brought into clearer relief by contrast. the next ethical element of which i have to speak is the _filial conduct_ of telemachus. in him the spirit of adventure has developed into a desire to help his father. in the early part of the poem he announces that he is now a child no longer. he begins to assert authority. and yet in his home he continues to be treated as a child. the suitors laugh at him, his own mother can not bear to think that he should go out into the wide world alone, and the news of his departure is accordingly concealed from her. very fine are the words in which her mother's love expresses itself when she discovers his absence: "and her knees failed her and her heart sank as she heard. long time she could not speak; her eyes were filled with tears, and her clear voice was choked; yet, finding words at length, she said: 'o herald! wherefore should my son have gone?' "... now, my son, my best beloved, goes to sea--a boy unused to hardship and unskilled to deal with strangers. more i sorrow for his sake than for his father's. i am filled with fear." she lies outstretched upon the floor of her chamber overcome with grief (iv, ). telemachus, however, has gone forth in search of his sire. he finds a friend in pisistratus, the son of nestor, and the two youths join company on the journey. they come to the court of menelaus, king of sparta. there, as everywhere, telemachus hears men speak of his great father in terms of the highest admiration and praise, and the desire mounts in his soul to do deeds worthy of such a parent. what better stimulation can we offer to growing children than this recital of telemachus's development from boyhood into manhood? his reception at the court of menelaus affords an opportunity to dwell again upon the generous and delicate hospitality of the ancient greeks. first, the guest is received at the gates; then conducted to the bath and anointed; then, when he is seated on a silver or perchance a golden throne, a handmaiden advances with a silver ewer and a golden jug to pour water on his hands; then a noble banquet is set out for his delectation; and only then, after all these rites of hospitality have been completed, is inquiry made as to his name and his errand. "the stranger and the poor are sent from jove." the stranger and the poor were welcome in the grecian house. telemachus returns to ithaca, escapes the ambush which the murderous suitors had set for him, and arrives just in time to help his father in his last desperate struggle. it is he, telemachus, who conveys the weapons from the hall, he who pinions the treacherous melantheus and renders him harmless. he quits himself like a man--discreet, able to keep his counsel, and brave and quick in the moment of decisive action. the third element which attracts our attention is the resourceful intelligence of ulysses, or his _presence of mind_ amid danger. this is exhibited on many occasions; for instance, in the cave of polyphemus; where he saves his companions by concealing them in the fleece of the giant's flock, and at the time of the great shipwreck, before he reaches phæacia. his raft is shattered, and he is plunged into the sea. he clings to one of the fragments of the wreck, but from this too is dislodged. for two days and nights he struggles in the black, stormy waters. at last he approaches the shore, but is nearly dashed to pieces on the rocks. he swims again out to sea, until, finding himself opposite the mouth of a river, he strikes out for this and lands in safety. pallas athene has guided him. but pallas athene is only another name for his own courage and presence of mind. in the same connection may be related the story of ulysses's escape from the sirens and from the twin perils of scylla and charybdis. the sirens, with their bewitching songs, seek to lure him and his companions to destruction. but he stops the ears of his companions with wax so that they can not hear, and causes himself to be bound with stout cords to the mast, so that, though he may hear, he can not follow. there is an obvious lesson contained in this allegory. when about to be exposed to temptation, if you know that you are weak, do not even listen to the seductive voices. but no matter how strong you believe yourself to be, at least give such pledges and place yourself in such conditions that you may be prevented from yielding. from the monster charybdis, too, ulysses escapes by extraordinary presence of mind and courage. he leaps upward to catch the fig-tree in the moment when his ship disappears beneath him in the whirlpool; then, when it is cast up again, lets go his hold and is swept out into safe waters. the fourth ethical element which we select from the poem is the _veneration shown to grandparents_. i have already remarked, in a former lecture, that if parents wish to retain the reverence of their children they can not do better than in their turn to show themselves reverent toward their own aged and enfeebled parents. of such conduct the odyssey offers us a number of choice examples. thus achilles, meeting ulysses in the realm of shades, says that the hardest part of his lot is to think of his poor old father, who has no one now to defend him, and who, being weak, is likely to be neglected and despised. if only he, the strong son, could return to the light of day, how he would protect his aged parent and insure him the respect due to his gray hairs! penelope is advised to send to laertes, telemachus's grandfather, to secure his aid against the suitors. but with delicate consideration she keeps the bad news from him, saying: "he has enough grief to bear on account of the loss of his son ulysses; let me not add to his burden." again, how beautiful is the account of the meeting of laertes and ulysses after the return and triumph of the latter. on the farm, at some distance from the town, ulysses seeks his aged father. laertes is busy digging. he, a king, wears a peasant's rustic garb and lives a life of austere self-denial, grieving night and day for his absent son. when ulysses mentions his name, laertes at first does not believe. then the hero approaches the bent and decrepit old man, and becomes for the moment a child again. he brings up recollections of his earliest boyhood; he reminds his father of the garden-patch which he set aside for him long, long ago; of the trees and vines which he gave him to plant; and then the father realizes that the mighty man before him is indeed his son. the structural lines of the odyssey are clearly marked, and can easily be followed. first, we are shown the house of ulysses bereft of its master. the noisy crowd of suitors are carousing in the hall; the despairing penelope weaves her web in an upper chamber; the resolve to do and dare for his father's sake awakens in telemachus's heart. next ulysses on the way home, dismissed by calypso, arrives at phæacia, from which port without further misadventures he reaches ithaca. the stay in the palace of the phæacian king gives an opportunity for a rehearsal of the previous sufferings and adventures of the hero. then follow the preparations for the conflict with the suitors; the appearance of ulysses in his own palace in the guise of a beggar; the insults and blows which he receives at the hands of his rivals and their menials; the bloody fight, etc. in relating the story i should follow the course of the poem, laying stress upon the ethical elements enumerated above. the fight which took place in the palace halls with closed doors should be merely mentioned, its bloody details omitted. the hanging of the maidens, the trick of vulcan related in a previous book, and other minor episodes, which the teacher will distinguish without difficulty, should likewise be passed over. the recognition scenes are managed with wonderful skill. the successive recognitions seem to take place inversely in the order of previous connection and intimacy with ulysses. the son, who was a mere babe when his father left and did not know him at all, recognizes him first. this, moreover, is necessary in order that his aid may be secured for the coming struggle. next comes argus, the dog. "while over argus the black night of death came suddenly as he had seen ulysses, absent now for twenty years." next comes the nurse eurycleia, who recognizes him by a scar inflicted by the white tusk of a boar whom he hunted on parnassus's heights; then his faithful followers; last of all, and slowly and with difficulty, the wife who had so yearned for him. her impetuous son could not understand her tardiness. vehemently he chid her: "mother, unfeeling mother, how canst thou remain aloof, how keep from taking at my father's side thy place to talk with him and question him? mother, thy heart is harder than a stone." but she only sat opposite to ulysses and gazed and gazed and wondered. ulysses himself, at last, in despair at her impenetrable silence, exclaimed, "an iron heart is hers." but it was only that she could not believe. it seemed so incredible to her that the long waiting should be over; that the desire of her heart should really be fulfilled; that this man before her should be indeed the husband, the long-lost husband, and not a mocking dream. but when at last it dawned upon her, when he gave her the token of the mystery known only to him and to her, then indeed the ice of incredulity melted from her heart, and her knees faltered and the tears streamed from her eyes, "and she rose and ran to him and flung her arm about his neck and kissed his brow, and he, too, wept as in his arms he held his dearly loved and faithful wife." "as welcome as the land to those who swim the deep, tossed by the billow and the blast, and few are those who from the hoary ocean reach the shore, their limbs all crested with the brine, these gladly climb the sea-beach and are safe--so welcome was her husband to her eyes, nor would her fair white arms release his neck." and so with the words uttered by the shade of agamemnon we may fitly close this retrospect of the poem: "son of laertes, fortunate and wise, ulysses! thou by feats of eminent might and valor dost possess thy wife again. and nobly minded is thy blameless queen, the daughter of icarius, faithfully remembering him to whom she gave her troth while yet a virgin. never shall the fame of his great valor perish, and the gods themselves shall frame, for those who dwell on earth, sweet strains in praise of sage penelope." well might the rhapsodes in the olden days, clad in embroidered robes, with golden wreaths about their brows, recite such verses as these to the assembled thousands and ten thousands. well might the hellenic race treasure these records of filial loyalty, of maiden purity, of wifely tenderness and fidelity, of bravery, and of intelligence. and well may we, too, desire that this golden stream flowing down to us from ancient greece shall enter the current of our children's lives to broaden and enrich them. i have not space at my command to attempt a minute analysis of the iliad, and shall content myself with mentioning the main significant points. the iliad is full of the noises of war, the hurtling of arrows, the flashing of swords, the sounding of spears on metal shields, the groans of the dying, "whose eyes black darkness covers." the chief virtues illustrated are valor, hospitality, conjugal affection, respect for the aged. i offer the following suggestions to the teacher. after describing the wrath of achilles, relate the meeting of diomedes and glaucus, their hostile encounter, and their magnanimous embrace on discovering that they are great friends. read the beautiful passage beginning with the words, "even as the generations of leaves, such are those likewise of men." dwell on the parting of hector and andromache. note that she has lost her father, her lady mother, and her seven brothers. hector is to her father, mother, brother, and husband, all in one. note also hector's prayer for his son that the latter may excel him in bravery. as illustrative of friendship, tell the story of achilles's grief for patroclus, how he lies prone upon the ground, strewing his head with dust; how he follows the body lamenting; how he declares that though the dead forget their dead in hades, even there he would not forget his dear comrade. next tell of the slaying of hector, and how achilles honors the suppliant priam and restores to him the body of his son. it is the memory of his own aged father, which the sight of priam recalls, that melts achilles's heart, and they weep together, each for his own dead. finally, note the tribute paid to hector's delicate chivalry in the lament of helen.[ ] footnotes: [ ] see jebb's introduction to homer. [ ] the quotations are taken from bryant's translation of the odyssey. [ ] in connection with the homeric poems selections from greek mythology may be used, such as the story of hercules, of theseus, of perseus, the story of the argonauts, and others. these, too, breathe the spirit of adventure and illustrate the virtues of courage, perseverance amid difficulties, chivalry, etc. grammar course. lessons on duty. xi. the duty of acquiring knowledge. in setting out on a new path it is well to determine beforehand the goal we hope to reach. we are about to begin the discussion of the grammar course, which is intended for children between twelve and fifteen years of age, and accordingly ask: what result can we expect to attain? one thing is certain, we must continue to grade our teaching, to adapt each successive step to the capacities of the pupils, to keep pace with their mental development. the due gradation of moral teaching is all-important. whether the gradations we propose are correct is, of course, a matter for discussion; but, at all events, a point will be gained if we shall have brought home forcibly to teachers the necessity of a graded, of a progressive system. in the primary course we have set before the pupils examples of good and bad conduct, with a view to training their powers of moral perception. we are now ready to advance from percepts to concepts. we have endeavored to cultivate the faculty of observation, we can now attempt the higher task of generalization. in the primary course we have tried to make the pupils perceive moral distinctions; in the grammar course we shall try to make them reason about moral distinctions, help them to gain notions of duty, to arrive at principles or maxims of good conduct. the grammar course, therefore, will consist in the main of lessons on duty. what has just been said, however, requires further explanation to prevent misapprehension. i have remarked that the pupil is now to reach out toward concepts of duty, and to establish for himself maxims or principles of conduct. but of what nature shall these maxims be? the philosopher kant has proposed the following maxim: "so act that the maxim underlying thy action may justify itself to thy mind as a universal law of conduct." according to him, the note of universality is the distinctive characteristic of all ethical conduct. the school of bentham proposes a different maxim: "so act that the result of thy action shall tend to insure the greatest happiness of the greatest number." theologians tell us so to act that our will may harmonize with the will of god. but pupils of the grammar grade are not ripe to understand such metaphysical and theological propositions. and, moreover, as was pointed out in our first lecture, it would be a grave injustice to teach in schools supported by all ethical first principles which are accepted only by some. we are not concerned with first principles. we exclude the discussion of them, be they philosophical or theological, from the school. but there are certain secondary principles, certain more concrete rules of behavior, which nevertheless possess the character of generalizations, and these will suffice for our purpose. and with respect to these there is really no difference of opinion among the different schools and sects, and on them as a foundation we can build. it is our business to discover such secondary principles, and in our instruction to lead the pupil to the recognition of them. the nature of the formulas of duty which we have in mind--formulas which shall express the generalized moral experience of civilized mankind, will appear more plainly if we examine the processes by which we arrive at them. an example will best elucidate: suppose that i am asked to give a lesson on the duty of truthfulness. at the stage which we have now reached it will not be enough merely to emphasize the general commandment against lying. the general commandment leaves in the pupil's mind a multitude of doubts unsolved. shall i always tell the truth--that is to say, the whole truth, as i know it, and to everybody? is it never right to withhold the truth, or even to say what is the contrary of true, as, e. g., to the sick or insane. such questions as these are constantly being asked. what is needed is a rule of veracity which shall leave the general principle of truth-speaking unshaken, and shall yet cover all these exceptional cases. how to arrive at such a rule? i should go about it in the following manner, and the method here described is the one which is intended to be followed throughout the entire course of lessons on duty. i should begin by presenting a concrete case. a certain child had broken a precious vase. when asked whether it had done so, it answered, "no." how do you characterize such a statement? as a falsehood. the active participation of the pupils in the discussion is essential. properly questioned, they will join in it heart and soul. there must be constant give and take between teacher and class. upon the fulfillment of this condition the value of this sort of teaching entirely depends. the teacher then proceeds to analyze the instance above given, or any other that he may select from those which the pupils offer him. the child says no when it should have said yes, or a person says black when he should have said white. in what does the falsehood of such statements consist? in the circumstance that the words spoken do not correspond to the facts. shall we then formulate the rule of veracity as follows: make thy words correspond to the facts; and shall we infer that any one whose words do not correspond to the facts is a liar? but clearly this is not so. the class is asked to give instances tending to prove the insufficiency of the proposed formula. before the days of copernicus it was generally asserted that the sun revolves around the earth. should we be justified in setting down the many excellent persons who made such statements as liars? yet their words did not correspond to the facts. very true; but they did not intend to deviate from the facts--they did not know better. shall we then change the formula so as to read: intend that thy words shall conform to the facts? but the phrase "correspond to the facts" needs to be made more explicit. cases occur in which a statement does correspond to the facts, or, at least, seems to do so, and yet a contemptible falsehood is implied. the instance of the truant boy is in point who entered the school-building five minutes before the close of the exercises, and on being asked at home whether he had been at school, promptly answered "yes"; and so he had been for five minutes. but in this case the boy suppressed a part of the facts--and, moreover, the essential part--namely, that he had been absent from school for five hours and fifty-five minutes. cases of mental reservation and the like fall under the same condemnation. the person who took an oath in court, using the words, "as truly as i stand on this stone," but who had previously filled his shoes with earth, suppressed the essential fact--viz., that he had filled his shoes with earth. shall we then formulate the rule in this wise: intend to make thy words correspond to the essential facts? but even this will not entirely satisfy. for there are cases, surely, in which we deliberately frame our words in such a way that they shall not correspond to the essential facts--for instance, if we should meet a murderer who should ask us in which direction his intended victim had fled, or in the case of an insane person intent on suicide, or of the sick in extreme danger, whom the communication of bad news would kill. how can we justify such a procedure? we can justify it on the ground that language as a means of communication is intended to further the rational purposes of human life, and not conversely are the rational purposes of life to be sacrificed to any merely formal principle of truth-telling. a person who, like the murderer, is about to use the fact conveyed to him by my words as a weapon with which to kill a fellow-being has no right to be put in possession of the fact. an insane person, who can not use the truthful communications of others except for irrational ends, is also outside the pale of those to whom such tools can properly be intrusted. and so are the sick, when so enfeebled that the shock of grief would destroy them. for the rational use of grief is to provoke in us a moral reaction, to rouse in us the strength to bear our heavy burdens, and, in bearing, to learn invaluable moral lessons. but those who are physically too weak to rally from the first shock of grief are unable to secure this result, and they must therefore be classed, for the time being, as persons not in a condition to make rational use of the facts of life. it is not from pain and suffering that we are permitted to shield them. pain and suffering we must be willing both to endure and also to inflict upon those whom we love best, if necessary. reason can and should triumph over pain. but when the reasoning faculty is impaired, or when the body is too weak to respond to the call of reason, the obligation of truth-_telling_ ceases. i am not unaware that this is a dangerous doctrine to teach. i should always take the greatest pains to impress upon my pupils that the irrational condition, which alone justifies the withholding of the truth, must be so obvious that there can be no mistake about it, as in the case of the murderer who, with knife in hand, pursues his victim, or of the insane, or of the sick, in regard to whom the physician positively declares that the shock of bad news would endanger life. but i do think that we are bound to face these exceptional cases, and to discuss them with our pupils. for the latter know as well as we that in certain exceptional situations the best men do not tell the truth, that in such situations no one tells the truth, except he be a moral fanatic. and unless these exceptional cases are clearly marked off and explained and justified, the general authority of truth will be shaken, or at least the obligation of veracity will become very much confused in the pupil's mind. in my opinion, the confusion which does exist on this subject is largely due to a failure to distinguish between inward truthfulness and truthfulness as reflected in speech. the law of inward truthfulness tolerates no exceptions. we should always, and as far as possible, be absolutely truthful, in our thinking, in our estimates, in our judgments. but language is a mere vehicle for the communication of thoughts and facts to others, and in communicating thoughts and facts we _are_ bound to consider in how far others are fit to receive them. shall we then formulate the rule of veracity thus: intend to communicate the essential facts to those who are capable of making a rational use of them. i think that some such formula as this might answer. i am not disposed to stickle for this particular phraseology. but the formula as stated illustrates my thought, and also the method by which the formulas, which we shall have to teach in the grammar course are to be reached. it is the inductive method. first a concrete case is presented, and a rule of conduct is hypothetically suggested, which fits this particular case. then other cases are adduced. it is discovered that the rule as it stands thus far does not fit them. it must therefore be modified, expanded. then, in succession, other and more complex cases, to which the rule may possibly apply are brought forward, until every case we can think of has been examined; and when the rule is brought into such shape that it fits them all, we have a genuine moral maxim, a safe rule for practical guidance, and the principle involved in the rule is one of those secondary principles in respect to which men of every sect and school can agree. it needs hardly to be pointed out how much a casuistical discussion of this sort tends to stimulate interest in moral problems, and to quicken the moral judgment. i can say, from an experience of over a dozen years, that pupils between twelve and fifteen years of age are immensely interested in such discussions, and are capable of making the subtilest distinctions. indeed, the directness with which they pronounce their verdict on fine questions of right and wrong often has in it something almost startling to older persons, whose contact with the world has reconciled them to a somewhat less exacting standard. but here a caution is necessary. some children seem to be too fond of casuistry. they take an intellectual pleasure in drawing fine distinctions, and questions of conscience are apt to become to them mere matter of mental gymnastics. such a tendency must be sternly repressed whenever it shows itself. in fact, reasoning about moral principles is always attended with a certain peril. after all, the actual morality of the world depends largely on the moral habits which mankind have formed in the course of many ages, and which are transmitted from generation to generation. now a habit acts a good deal like an instinct. its force depends upon what has been called unconscious cerebration. as soon as we stop to reason about our habits, their hold on us is weakened, we hesitate, we become uncertain, the interference of the mind acts like a brake. it is for this reason that throughout the primary course, we have confined ourselves to what the germans call _anschauung_, the close observation of examples with a view of provoking imitation or repugnance, and thus strengthening the force of habit. why, then, introduce analysis now, it may be asked. why not be content with still further confirming the force of good habits? my answer is that the force of habit must be conserved and still further strengthened, but that analysis, too, becomes necessary at this stage. and why? because habits are always specialized. a person governed by habits falls into a certain routine, and moves along easily and safely as long as the conditions repeat themselves to which his habits are adjusted. but when confronted by a totally new set of conditions, he is often quite lost and helpless. just as a person who is solely guided by common sense in the ordinary affairs of life, is apt to be stranded when compelled to face circumstances for which his previous experience affords no precedent. it is necessary, therefore, to extract from the moral habits the latent rules of conduct which underlie them, and to state these in a general form which the mind can grasp and retain, and which it will be able to apply to new conditions as they arise. to this end analysis and the formulation of rules are indispensable. but in order, at the same time, not to break the force of habit, the teacher should proceed in the following manner: he should always take the moral habit for granted. he should never give his pupils to understand that he and they are about to examine whether, for instance, it is wrong or not wrong to lie. the commandment against lying is assumed, and its obligation acknowledged at the outset. the only object of the analysis is to discern more exactly what is meant by lying, to define the rule of veracity with greater precision and circumspectness, so that we may be enabled to fulfill the commandment more perfectly. it is implied in what i have said that the teacher should not treat of moral problems as if he were dealing with problems in arithmetic. the best thing he can do for his pupils--better than any particular lesson he can teach--will be to communicate to them the spirit of moral earnestness. and this spirit he can not communicate unless he be full of it himself. the teacher should consecrate himself to his task; he should be penetrated by a sense of the lofty character of the subject which he teaches. even a certain attention to externals is not superfluous. the lessons, in the case of the younger children, may be accompanied by song; the room in which the classes meet may be hung with appropriate pictures, and especially is it desirable that the faces of great and good men and women shall look down upon the pupils from the walls. the instruction should be given by word of mouth; for the right text-books do not yet exist, and even the best books must always act as a bar to check that flow of moral influence which should come from the teacher to quicken the class. to make sure that the pupils understand what they have been taught, they should be required from time to time to reproduce the subject matter of the lessons in their own language, and using their own illustrations, in the form of essays. and now, after this general introduction, let us take up the lessons on the duties in their proper order. what is the proper order? this question, you will remember, was discussed in the lecture on the classification of duties. it was there stated that the life of man from childhood upward, may be divided into periods, that each period has its special duties, and that there is in each some one central duty around which the others may be grouped. during the school age the paramount duty of the pupil is to study. we shall therefore begin with the duties which are connected with the pursuit of knowledge. we shall then take up the duties which relate to the physical life and the feelings; next, the duties which arise in the family; after that the duties which we owe to all men; and lastly we will consider in an elementary way the civic duties. _the duty of acquiring knowledge._--in starting the discussion of any particular set of duties, it is advisable, as has been said, to present some concrete case, and biographical or historical examples are particularly useful. i have sometimes begun the lesson on the duty of acquiring knowledge by telling the story of cleanthes and that of hillel. cleanthes, a poor boy, was anxious to attend the school of zeno. but he was compelled to work for his bread, and could not spend his days in study as he longed to do. he was, however, so eager to learn that he found a way of doing his work by night. he helped a gardener to water his plants, and also engaged to grind corn on a hand-mill for a certain woman. now the neighbors, who knew that he was poor, and who never saw him go to work, were puzzled to think how he obtained the means to live. they suspected him of stealing, and he was called before the judge to explain. the judge addressed him severely, and commanded him to tell the truth. cleanthes requested that the gardener and the woman might be sent for, and they testified that he had been in the habit of working for them by night. the judge was touched by his great zeal for knowledge, acquitted him of the charge, and offered him a gift of money. but zeno would not permit him to take the gift. cleanthes became the best pupil of zeno, and grew up to be a very wise and learned man, indeed one of the most famous philosophers of the stoic school. the story of hillel runs as follows: there was once a poor lad named hillel. his parents were dead, and he had neither relatives nor friends. he was anxious to go to school, but, though he worked hard, he did not earn enough to pay the tuition fee exacted at the door. so he decided to save money by spending only half his earnings for food. he ate little, and that little was of poor quality, but he was perfectly happy, because with what he laid aside he could now pay the door-keeper and find a place inside, where he might listen and learn. this he did for some time, but one day he was so unlucky as to lose his situation. he had now no money left to buy bread, but he hardly thought of that, so much was he grieved at the thought that he should never get back to his beloved school. he begged the door-keeper to let him in, but the surly man refused to do so. in his despair a happy thought occurred to him. he had noticed a skylight on the roof. he climbed up to this, and to his delight found that through a crack he could hear all that was said inside. so he sat there and listened, and did not notice that evening was coming on, and that the snow was beginning to fall. next morning when the teachers and pupils assembled as usual, every one remarked how dark the room seemed. the sun too was shining again by this time quite brightly outside. suddenly some one happened to look up and with an exclamation of surprise pointed out the figure of a boy against the skylight. quickly they all ran outside, climbed to the roof, and there, covered with snow, quite stiff and almost dead, they found poor hillel. they carried him indoors, warmed his cold limbs, and worked hard to restore him to life. he was at last resuscitated, and from this time on was allowed to attend the school without paying. later he became a great teacher. he lived in palestine at about the time of jesus. he was admired for his learning, but even more for his good deeds and his unfailing kindness to every one. the question is now raised, why did cleanthes work at night instead of seeking rest, and why did hillel remain outside in the bitter cold and snow? the pupils will readily answer, because they loved knowledge. but why is knowledge so desirable? with this interrogatory we are fairly launched on the discussion of our subject. the points to be developed are these: first, knowledge is indispensable as a means of making one's way in the world. show the helplessness of the ignorant. compare the skilled laborer with the unskilled. give instances of merchants, statesmen, etc., whose success was due to steady application and superior knowledge. knowledge is power (namely, in the struggle for existence). secondly, knowledge is honor. an ignorant person is despised. knowledge wins us the esteem of our fellow-men. thirdly, knowledge is joy in a twofold sense. as the perception of light to the eye of the body, so is the perception of truth to the eye of the mind. the mind experiences an intrinsic pleasure in seeing things in their true relations. furthermore, mental growth is accompanied by the joy of successful effort. this can be explained even to a boy or girl of thirteen. have you ever tried hard to solve a problem in algebra? perhaps you have spent several hours over it. it has baffled you. at last, after repeated trials, you see your way clear, the solution is within your grasp. what a sense of satisfaction you experience then. it is the feeling of successful mental effort that gives you this satisfaction. you rejoice in having triumphed over difficulties, and the greater the difficulty, the more baffling and complex the problems, the greater is the satisfaction in solving them. fourthly, knowledge enables us to do good to others. speak of the use which physicians make of their scientific training to alleviate suffering and save life. refer to the manifold applications of science which have changed the face of modern society, and have contributed so largely to the moral progress of the world. point out that all true philanthropy, every great social reform, implies a superior grasp of the problems to be solved, as well as devotion to the cause of humanity. in accordance with the line of argument just sketched the rule for the pursuit of knowledge may be successively expanded as follows: seek knowledge that you may succeed in the struggle for existence. seek knowledge that you may gain the esteem of your fellow-men. seek knowledge for the sake of the satisfaction which the attainment of it will give you. seek knowledge that you may be able to do good to others. these points suffice for the present. in the advanced course we shall return to the consideration of the intellectual duties. i would also recommend that the moral teacher, not content with dwelling on the uses of knowledge in general, should go through the list of subjects which are commonly taught in school, such as geography, history, language, etc., and explain the value of each. this is too commonly neglected. having stationed the duty of acquiring knowledge in the center, connect with it the various lesser duties of school life, such as punctual attendance, order, diligent and conscientious preparation of home lessons, etc. these are means to an end, and should be represented as such. he who desires the end will desire the means. get your pupils to love knowledge, and the practice of these minor virtues will follow of itself. other matters might be introduced in connection with what has been mentioned, but enough has been said to indicate the point of view from which the whole subject of intellectual duty should, as i think, be treated in the present course. xii. duties which relate to the physical life. of the duties which relate to the physical life, the principal one is that of self-preservation, and this involves the prohibition of suicide. when one reflects on the abject life which many persons are forced to lead, on their poverty in the things which make existence desirable and the lack of moral stamina which often goes together with such conditions, the wonder is that the number of suicides is not much greater than it actually is. it is true most people cling to life instinctively, and have an instinctive horror of death. nevertheless, the force of instinct is by no means a sufficient deterrent in all cases, and the number of suicides is just now alarmingly on the increase. if we were here considering the subject of suicide in general we should have to enter at large into the causes of this increase; we should have to examine the relations subsisting between the increase of suicide and the increase of divorce, and inquire into those pathological conditions of modern society of which both are the symptoms; but our business is to consider the ethics of the matter, not the causes. the ethics of suicide resolves itself into the question, is it justifiable under any circumstances to take one's life? you may object that this is not a fit subject to discuss with pupils of thirteen or fourteen. why not? they are old enough to understand the motives which ordinarily lead to suicide, and also the reasons which forbid it--especially the most important reason, namely, that we live not merely or primarily to be happy, but to help on as far as we can the progress of things, and therefore that we are not at liberty to throw life away like an empty shell when we have ceased to enjoy it. the discussion of suicide is indeed of the greatest use because it affords an opportunity early in the course of our lessons on duty to impress this cardinal truth, to describe upon the moral globe this great meridian from which all the virtues take their bearings. however, in accordance with the inductive method, we must approach this idea by degrees. the first position i should take is that while suffering is often temporary, suicide is final. it is folly to take precipitately a step which can not be recalled. very often in moments of deep depression the future before us seems utterly dark, and in our firmament there appears not one star of hope; but presently from some wholly unexpected quarter help comes. fortune once more takes us into her good graces, and we are scarcely able to understand our past downheartedness in view of the new happiness to which we have fallen heirs. preserve thy life in view of the brighter chances which the future may have in store. this is a good rule as far as it goes, but it does not fit the more trying situations. for there are cases where the fall from the heights of happiness is as complete as it is sudden, and the hope of recovering lost ground is really shut out. take from actual life the case of a husband who fairly idolized his young wife and lost her by death three months after marriage. we may suppose that in the course of years he will learn to submit to his destiny. we may even hope that peace will come back to his poor heart, but we can not imagine that he will ever again be happy. another case is that of a person who has committed a great wrong, the consequences of which are irreparable, and of which he must carry the agonizing recollection with him to the grave. time may assuage the pangs of remorse, and religion may comfort him, but happiness can never be the portion of such as he. still another instance--less serious, but of more frequent occurrence--is that of a merchant who has always occupied a commanding position in the mercantile community, and who, already advanced in years, is suddenly compelled to face bankruptcy. the thought of the hardships to which his family will be exposed, of his impending disgrace, drives him nearly to distraction. the question is, would the merchant, would those others, be justified in committing suicide? certainly not. the merchant, if he has the stuff of true manhood in him, will begin over again, at the bottom of the ladder if need be, will work to support his family, however narrowly. it would be the rankest selfishness in him to leave them to their fate. the conscience-stricken sinner must be willing to pay the penalty of his crime, to the end that he may be purified even seven times in the fire of repentance. and even the lover who has lost his bride will find, if he opens his eyes, that there is still work for him to do in life. the world is full of evils which require to be removed, full of burdens which require to be borne. if our own burden seems too heavy for us, there is a way of lightening it. we may add to it the burden of some one else, and ours will become lighter. physically, this would be impossible, but morally it is true. the rule of conduct, therefore, thus far reads, preserve thy life in order to perform thy share of the work of the world. but the formula, even in this shape, is not yet entirely adequate, for there are those who can not take part in the work of the world, who can only suffer--invalids, e. g., who are permanently incapacitated, and whose infirmities make them a constant drag on the healthy lives of their friends. why should not these be permitted to put an end to their miseries? i should say that so long as there is the slightest hope of recovery, and even where this hope is wanting, so long as the physical pain is not so intense or so protracted as to paralyze the mental life altogether, they should hold out. they are not cut off from the true ends of human existence. by patient endurance, by the exercise of a sublime unselfishness, they may even attain on their sick-beds a height of spiritual development which would otherwise be impossible; and, in addition, they may become by their uncomplaining patience the sweetest, gentlest helpers of their friends, not useless, assuredly, but shining examples of what is best and noblest in human nature. the rule, therefore, should read: preserve thy life in order to fulfill the duties of life, whether those duties consist in doing or in patiently suffering. as has been said long ago, we are placed on guard as sentinels. the sentinel must not desert his post. i think it possible to make the pupil in the grammar grade understand that suicide is selfish, that we are bound to live, even though life has ceased to be attractive, in order that we may perform our share of the world's work and help others and grow ourselves in moral stature. this does not, of course, imply any condemnation of that vast number of cases in which suicide is committed in consequence of mental aberration. in the advanced course we shall have to return to this subject, and shall there refer _in extenso_ to the views of the stoics. the morality of the stoic philosophers in general is so high, and their influence even to this day so great, that their defense, or rather enthusiastic praise of suicide,[ ] needs to be carefully examined. i am of the opinion that we have here a case in which metaphysical speculation has had the effect of distorting morality. metaphysics in this respect resembles religion. on the one hand the influence of religion on morality has been highly beneficial, on the other it has been hurtful in the extreme--instance human sacrifices, religious wars, the inquisition, etc. in like manner, philosophy, though not to the same extent, has both aided morality and injured it. i regard the stoic declamations on suicide as an instance of the latter sort. the stoic philosophy was pantheistic. to live according to nature was their principal maxim, or, more precisely, according to the reason in nature. they maintained that in certain circumstances a man might find it impossible to live up to the rational standard; he might, for instance, discover himself to be morally so weak as to be unable to resist temptation, and in that case it would be better for him to retire from the scene and to seek shelter in the eternal reason, just as, to use their own simile, one who found the room in which he sat filled to an intolerable degree with smoke would not be blamed for withdrawing from it. it was their pantheism that led them to favor suicide, and in this respect it is my belief that the modern conscience, trained by the old and new testaments, has risen to a higher level than theirs. we moderns feel it impossible to admit that to the sane mind temptation can ever be so strong as to be truly irresistible. we always can resist if we will. we can, because we ought; as kant has taught us to put it. we always can because we always ought. note.--despite the rigorous disallowance of suicide in general plainly indicated in the above, i should not wish to be understood as saying that there are no circumstances whatever in which the taking of one's life is permissible. in certain rare and exceptional cases i believe it to be so. in the lecture as delivered i attempted a brief description of these exceptional cases, too brief, it appeared, to prevent most serious misconception. i deem it best, therefore, to defer the expression of my views on this delicate matter until an occasion arrives when i shall be able to articulate my thought in full detail, such as would here be impossible. from the commandment "preserve thy life" it follows not only that we should not lay violent hands upon ourselves, but that we should do all in our power to develop and invigorate the body, in order that it may become an efficient instrument in the service of our higher aims. the teacher should inform himself on the subject of the gymnastic ideal of the greeks and consider in how far this ideal is applicable to modern conditions. in general, the teacher should explore as fully as possible the ethical problems on which he touches. he should not be merely "one lesson ahead" of his pupils. really it is necessary to grasp the whole of a subject before we can properly set forth its elements. a very thorough normal training is indispensable to those who would give moral instruction to the young. the duties of cleanliness and temperance fall under the same head as the above. in speaking of cleanliness, there are three motives--the egoistic, the æsthetic, and the moral--to which we may appeal. be scrupulously clean for the sake of health, be clean lest you become an object of disgust to others, be clean in order to retain your self-respect. special emphasis should be laid on secret cleanliness. indolent children are sometimes neat in externals, but shockingly careless in what is concealed from view. the motive of self-respect shows itself particularly in secret cleanliness. the duty of temperance is supported by the same three motives. intemperance undermines health, the glutton or the drunkard awakens disgust, intemperance destroys self-respect. to strengthen the repugnance of the pupils against intemperance in eating, contrast the way in which wild beasts eat with that in which human beings partake of their food. the beast is absorbed in the gratification of its appetite, eats without the use of implements, eats unsocially. the human way of eating is in each particular the opposite. show especially that the act of eating is spiritualized by being made subservient to friendly intercourse and to the strengthening of the ties of domestic affection. the family table becomes the family altar. call attention also to the effects of drunkenness; point out the injuries which the drunkard inflicts on wife and children by his neglect to provide for them, by the outbursts of violence to which he is subject under the influence of strong drink; describe his physical, mental, and moral degradation; lay stress on the fact that liquor deprives him of the use of his reason. with respect to temperance in food, there are one or two points to be noted. i say to my pupils if you are particularly fond of a certain dish, sweetmeats, for instance, make it a rule to partake less of that than if you were not so fond of it. this is good practice in self-restraint. i make out as strong a case as possible against the indulgence of the candy habit. young people are not, as a rule, tempted to indulge in strong drink; but they are tempted to waste their money and injure their health by an excessive consumption of sweets. it is well to apply the lesson of temperance to the things in which they are tempted. for the teacher the following note may be added: of the senses, some, like that of taste, are more nearly allied to the physical part of us; others, like sight and hearing, to our rational nature. this antithesis of the senses may be used in the interest of temperance. appeal to the higher senses in order to subdue the lower. a band of kindergarten children, having been invited on a picnic, were given the choice between a second plate of ice cream, for which many of them were clamoring, and a bunch of flowers for each. most of them were sufficiently interested in flowers to prefer the latter. in the case of young children, the force of the physical appetite may also be weakened by appealing to their affection. during the later stage of adolescence, when the dangers which arise from the awakening life of the senses become great and imminent, the attention should be directed to high intellectual aims, the social feelings should be cultivated, and a taste for the pleasures of the senses of sight and hearing--namely, the pleasures of music, painting, sculpture, etc.--should be carefully developed. artistic, intellectual, and social motives should be brought into play jointly to meet the one great peril of this period of life. duties which relate to the feelings. under this head let me speak first of fear. there is a distinction to be drawn between physical and moral cowardice. physical cowardice is a matter of temperament or organization. perhaps it can hardly ever be entirely overcome, but the exhibition of it can be prevented by moral courage. moral cowardice, on the other hand, is a fault of character. in attempting to formulate the rule of conduct, appeal as before to the egoistic motive, then to the social--i. e., the desire for the good opinion of others--and lastly to the moral motive, properly speaking. fear paralyzes; it fascinates its victim like the fabled basilisk. nothing is more common than a sense of helpless immobility under the influence of fear. there is a way of escape. you might run or leap for your life, but you can not stir a limb. what you need to do is to turn away your attention by a powerful effort of the will from the object which excites fear. so long as that object is before you the mind can not act; the mind is practically absent. what you need is presence of mind. let the teacher adduce some of the many striking instances in which men in apparently desperate straits have been saved by presence of mind. the rule thus far would read: be brave and suppress fear, because by so doing you may escape out of danger. in the next place, by so doing you will escape the reproaches of your fellow-men, for cowardice is universally condemned as shameful. cite from spartan history examples showing in the strongest light the feeling of scorn and contempt for the coward. there are, however, cases where death is certain, and where there is no support like that of public opinion to sustain courage. what should be the rule of duty in such cases? take the case of a person who has been shipwrecked. he swims the sea alone, he is still clinging to a spar, but realizes that in a few minutes he must let go, his strength being well-nigh spent. what should be his attitude of mind in that supreme moment. the forces of nature are about to overwhelm him. what motive can there be strong enough to support bravery in that moment? the rule of duty for him would be: be brave, because as a human being you are superior to the forces of nature, because there is something in you--your moral self--over which the forces of nature have no power, because what happens to you in your private character is not important, but it is important that you assert the dignity of humanity to the last breath. after having discussed courage, define fortitude. point out the importance of strength of will. contrast the strong will with the feeble, with the wayward, the irresolute, and also the obstinate will, for obstinacy is often the sign of weakness rather than of strength. see, for useful hints on this subject, bain's the emotions and the will. what happens to thy little self is not important. this is the leading thought which shall also guide us in the discussion of _anger_. in entering on the subject of anger begin by describing the effects of it. quote the passage from seneca's treatise on anger, showing how it disfigures the countenance. point out that anger provokes anger in return, and is therefore contrary to self-interest. call to your aid the social motive by showing that under the influence of anger we often overshoot the mark and inflict injuries on others which we had not intended. finally, show that indulgence in anger is immoral. in what sense is it immoral? anger is an emotional reaction against injury. when a child hurts its foot against a stone, it is often so unreasonably angry at the stone as to strike it. when an adult person receives a blow, his first impulse is to return it. this desire to return injury for injury is one of the characteristic marks of anger. another mark is that anger is proportional to the injury received, and not to the fault implied. every one knows that a slight fault in another may occasion a great injury to ourselves, while, on the other hand, a serious fault may only cause us a slight inconvenience. the angry person measures his resentment by the injury, and not by the fault. anger is selfish. it is fed and pampered by the delusion that our pleasures and pains are of chief importance. contrast with anger the moral feeling of indignation. anger is directed against the injury received, indignation solely against the wrong done. the immoral feeling prompts us to hate wrong because it has been inflicted on us. the moral feeling prompts us to hate wrong because it is wrong. now, to the extent that we sincerely hate wrong we shall be stirred up to diminish its power over others as well as over ourselves; we shall, for instance, be moved to save the evil doer who has just injured us from the tyranny of his evil nature; we shall aspire to become the moral physicians of those who have hurt us. and precisely because they have hurt us, they have a unique claim on us. we who know better than others the extent of their disease are called upon more than others to labor with a view to their cure. in this connection the rule of returning good for evil should be explained. this rule does not apply alike in all cases, though the spirit of it should always inspire our actions. if a pickpocket should steal our purse, it would be folly to hand him a check for twice the amount he has just stolen. if a hardened criminal should draw his knife and wound us in the back, it would be absurd to request him kindly to stab us in the breast also. we should in this case not be _curing_ him, but simply confirming him in his evil doing. the rule is: try to free the sinner from the power of sin. in some cases this is best accomplished by holding his hand, as it were, and preventing him from carrying out the intended wrong. in other cases by depriving him of his liberty for a season, subjecting him to wholesome discipline, and teaching him habits of industry. only in the case of those who have already attained a higher moral plane, and whose conscience is sensitive, does the rule of returning good for evil apply literally. if a brother has acted in an unbrotherly way toward you, do you on the next occasion act wholly in a brotherly way toward him. you will thereby show him how he ought to have acted and awaken the better nature in him. certain practical rules for the control of anger may be given to the pupil. suppress the signs of anger; you will thereby diminish its force. try to gain time: "when you are angry, count ten before you speak; when you are very angry, count a hundred." having gained time, examine rigorously into your own conduct. ask yourself whether you have not been partly to blame. if you find that you have, then, instead of venting your wrath on your enemy, try rather to correct the fault which has provoked hostility. but if, after honest self-scrutiny, you are able to acquit yourself, then you can all the more readily act the part of the moral physician, for it is the innocent who find it easiest to forgive. it is also useful to cite examples of persons who, like socrates, have exhibited great self-control in moments of anger; and to quote proverbs treating of anger, to explain these proverbs and to cause them to be committed to memory. i advise, indeed, that proverbs be used in connection with all the moral lessons. of the manner in which they are to be used i shall speak later on. the last of the present group of duties which we shall discuss relates to the feelings of vanity, pride, humility. vanity is a feeling of self-complacency based on external advantages. a person is vain of his dress or of his real or supposed personal charms. the peacock is the type of vanity. though the admiration of others ministers to vanity, yet it is possible to be vain by one's self--before a mirror, for instance. the feeling of pride, on the other hand, depends upon a comparison between self and others. pride implies a sense of one's own superiority and of the inferiority of others. both feelings are anti-moral. they spring, like moral cowardice and anger, from the false belief that this little self of ours is of very great importance. there is no such thing as proper pride or honest pride. the word pride used in this connection is a misnomer. vanity is spurious self-esteem based on external advantages. pride is spurious self-esteem based on comparison with others. genuine self-esteem is based on the consciousness of a distinction which we share with all humanity--namely, the capacity and the duty of rational development. this genuine self-esteem has two aspects--the one positive, the other negative. the positive aspect is called dignity, the negative humility. true dignity and true humility always go together. the sense of dignity arises within us when we remember the aims to which as human beings we are pledged; the sense of humility can not fail to arise when we consider how infinitely in practice we all fall below those aims. thus while pride depends on a comparison of ourselves with others, the genuinely moral feeling is excited when we consider our relation to the common ends of mankind. on the one hand, we are indeed privileged to pursue those ends, and are thereby exalted above all created things and above the whole of the natural world with all its stars and suns. upon this consideration is founded the sense of dignity. on the other hand, we can not but own how great is the distance which separates even the best of us from the goal, and this gives rise to a deep sense of humility. the rule of conduct which we are considering is a rule of proper self-estimation. estimate thy worth not by external advantages nor by thy pre-eminence above others, but by the degree of energy with which thou pursuest the moral aims. to mark off the distinction between vanity and pride on the one hand and dignity on the other, the teacher may contrast in detail the lives of alcibiades and socrates. in connection with the discussion of anger and of pride, define such terms as hate, envy, malice. hatred is anger become chronic. or we may also say the state of mind which leads to passionate paroxysms in the case of anger is called hate when it has turned into a settled inward disposition. in other respects the characteristic marks of both are the same. envy is the obverse of pride. pride is based on real or fancied superiority to others. envy is due to real or fancied inferiority. pride is the vice of the strong, envy of the weak. malice is pleasure in the loss of others irrespective of our gain. i have observed on a previous occasion that the feelings considered by themselves have no moral value. nevertheless, we have now repeatedly spoken of moral feelings. the apparent contradiction disappears if we remember that all feelings of the higher order presuppose, and are the echo of complex systems of ideas. the moral feelings are those in which moral ideas have their resonance; and those feelings are valuable in virtue of the ideas which they reflect. the feeling of moral courage depends on the idea that the injuries we receive at the hands of fortune are not important, but that it is important for us to do credit to our rational nature. the feeling of moral indignation depends on the idea that the injuries we receive from our fellow-men are not important, but that it is important that the right be done and the wrong abated. the feelings of moral dignity and humility combined depend on the idea that it does not signify whether the shadow we cast in the world of men be long or short, but only that we live in the light of the moral aims. footnote: [ ] see, e. g., the famous passage in seneca, de ira, iii, . xiii. duties which relate to others. filial duties. we began our course of moral instruction with the self-regarding duties, and assigned the second place to the duties which relate to others. there is an additional reason besides the one already given for keeping to this order. if we were to begin with the commandments or prohibitions which relate to others--e. g., the sixth, eighth, and ninth commandments of the decalogue--the pupil might easily get the impression that these things are forbidden solely because they involve injuries to others, but that in cases where the injury is inconsiderable, or not apparent, the transgression of moral commandments is more or less excusable. there are many persons who seem unable to understand that it is really sinful to defraud the custom-house or to neglect paying one's fare in a horse-car. and why? because the injury inflicted seems so insignificant. now, it is of the utmost consequence to impress upon the pupil that every action which involves a violation of duty to others at the same time produces a change in the moral quality of the agent, that he suffers as well as the one whom he wrongs. the subjective and objective sides of transgression can not in point of principle and ought not in actual consciousness to be separated. if, therefore, we begin by enforcing such duties as temperance the pupil will at once feel that the violation of the law changes his inward condition, degrades him in his own eyes, lowers him in the scale of being. the true standpoint from which all moral transgression should be regarded will thus be gained at the outset, and it will be comparatively easy to maintain the same point of view when we come to speak of the social duties. to start discussion on the subject of the filial duties, relate the story of Æneas carrying his aged father, anchises, out of burning troy; also the story of cleobis and bito (herodotus, i, ). recall the devotion of telemachus to ulysses. tell the story of lear and his daughters, contrasting the conduct of regan and goneril with that of cordelia. an excellent story to tell, especially to young children, is that of dama. Æneas and telemachus illustrate the filial spirit as expressed in services rendered to parents, but opportunity to be of real service to parents is not often offered to the very young. the story of dama exhibits the filial spirit as displayed in acts of delicacy and consideration, and such acts are within the power of all children. the story is located in palestine, and is supposed to have occurred at the time when the temple at jerusalem was still standing. dama was a dealer in jewels, noted for possessing the rarest and richest collection anywhere to be found. it happened that it became necessary to replace a number of the precious stones on the breastplate of the high priest, and a deputation was sent from jerusalem to wait on dama and to select from his stock what was needed. dama received his distinguished visitors with becoming courtesy, and on learning their mission spread out before them a large number of beautiful stones. but none of these were satisfactory. the stones must needs be of extraordinary size and brilliancy. none but such might be used. when dama was informed of this he reflected a moment, then said that in a room occupied by his old father there was a cabinet in which he kept his most precious gems, and that among them he was sure he could find what his visitors wanted. he bade them delay a few moments, while he made the necessary search. but presently he returned without the jewels. he expressed the greatest regret, but declared that it was impossible to oblige them. they were astonished, and, believing it to be a mere trader's trick, offered him an immense price for the stones. he answered that he was extremely sorry to miss so profitable a transaction, but that it was indeed beyond his power to oblige them now--if they would return in an hour or two he could probably suit them. they declared that their business admitted of no delay; that the breastplate must be repaired at once, so that the priest might not be prevented from discharging his office. and so he allowed them to depart. it appears that when dama opened the door of the room he saw his old father asleep on the couch. he tried to enter noiselessly, but the door creaked on its hinges, and the old man started in his sleep. dama checked himself, and turned back. he said, "i will forego the gain which they offer me, but i will not disturb the slumbers of my father." the sleep of the old father was sacred to dama. children are often thoughtless in breaking noisily into a room where father or mother is resting. such a story tends to instill the lesson of consideration and of reverence. reverence is the key-note of filial duty. you will remember that goethe, in wilhelm meister, in those chapters in which he sketches his pedagogical ideal, bases the entire religious and moral education of the young on a threefold reverence. he applies the following symbolism: the pupils of the ideal pedagogical institution are required to take, on different occasions, three different attitudes. now they fold their arms on their breast, and look with open countenance upward; again they fold their arms on their backs, and their bright glances are directed toward the earth; and again they stand in a row, and their faces are turned to the right, each one looking at his neighbor. these three attitudes are intended to symbolize reverence toward what is above us, toward what is beneath us, and toward our equals. these three originate and culminate in the true self-reverence. in speaking of filial duty, we are concerned with reverence toward what is above us. the parent is the physical, mental, and moral superior of the child. it is his duty to assist the child's physical, mental, and moral growth; to lift it by degrees out of its position of inferiority, so that it may attain the fullness of its powers, and help to carry on the mission of mankind when the older generation shall have retired from the scene. the duty of the superior toward the inferior is to help him to rise above the plane of inferiority. the receptive and appreciative attitude of one who is thus helped is called reverence. but we must approach the nature of parental duty more closely, and the following reflections may put us in the way: no man can attain the intellectual aims of life without assistance. a scientist inhabiting a desert island and limited to his own mental resources could make little headway. the scientist of to-day utilizes the accumulated labors of all the generations of scientists that have preceded him, and depends for the value of his results on the co-operation and the sifting criticism of his contemporaries. and as no one can get much knowledge without the help of others, so no one is justified in seeking knowledge for his own private pleasure, or in seeking the kind of knowledge that happens to pique his vanity. for instance, it is a violation of intellectual duty to spend one's time in acquiring out-of-the way erudition which is useful only for display. the pursuit of knowledge is a public not a private end. every scholar and man of science is bound to enlarge as far as he can the common stock of truth, to add to the scientific possessions of the human race. but in order to do this he must question himself closely, that he may discover in what direction his special talent lies, and may apply himself sedulously to the cultivation of that. for it is by specializing his efforts that he can best serve the general interests of truth. the same holds good with respect to the pursuit of social ends--e. g., the correction of social abuses and the promotion of social justice. the reformer of to-day stands on the shoulders of all the reformers of the past, and would have little prospect of success in any efforts he may make without the co-operation and criticism of numerous co-workers. nor, again, is it right for him to take up any and every project of reform that may happen to strike his fancy. he ought rather to consider what particular measures under existing circumstances are most likely to advance the cause of progress, and in what capacity he is specially fitted to promote such measures. justice and truth are public, not private ends. the highest aim of life for each one is to offer that contribution which he, as an individual, is peculiarly fitted to make toward the attainment of the public ends of mankind. the individual when living only for himself, absorbed in his private pleasures and pains, is a creature of little worth; and his existence is of little more account in the scheme of things than that of the summer insects, who have their day and perish. but the individual become the organ of humanity acquires a lasting worth, and his individuality possesses an inviolable sanctity. the sacredness of individuality in the sense just indicated is a leading idea of ethics--perhaps it would not be too much to say, the leading idea. and now we can state more exactly the nature of parental duty. it is the duty of the parent, remembering that he is the guardian of the permanent welfare of his child, to respect, to protect, to develop its individuality--above all, to discover its individual bent; for that is often latent, and requires to be persistently searched out. it is the duty and the privilege of the parent to put the child, as it were, in possession of its own soul. and upon this relationship filial reverence is founded, and from it the principal filial duties may be deduced. because the child does not know what is best for it, in view of its destiny, as described above, it is bound to obey. obedience is the first of the filial duties. secondly, the child is bound to show gratitude for the benefits received at the hands of its parents. the teacher should discuss with his pupils the principal benefits conferred by parents. the parents supply the child with food, shelter, and raiment; they nurse it in sickness, often sacrificing sleep, comfort, and health for its sake. they toil in order that it may want nothing; they give it, in their fond affection, the sweet seasoning of all their other gifts. it is well to bring these facts distinctly before the pupil's mind. the teacher can do it with a better grace than the parent himself. the teacher can strengthen and deepen the home feeling, and it is his office to do so. the pupil should go home from his moral lesson in school and look upon his parents with a new realization of all that he owes them, with a new and deeper tenderness. but the duty of gratitude should be based, above all, upon the greatest gift which the child obtains from his parents, the help which it receives toward attaining the moral aim of its existence. i do not include the commandment "love thy parents" among the rules of filial duty, for i do not think that love can be commanded. love follows of itself if the right attitude of reverence, obedience, gratitude be observed. love is the sense of union with another. and the peculiarity of filial love, whereby it is distinguished from other kinds of love, is that it springs from union with persons on whom we utterly depend, with moral superiors, to whom we owe the fostering of our spiritual as well as of our physical existence. but how shall the sentiment of filial gratitude express itself? gratitude is usually displayed by a return of the kindness received. but the kindness which we receive from parents is such that we can never repay it. it is of the nature of a debt which we can never hope fully to cancel. we can do this much--when our parents grow old, we can care for them, and smooth the last steps that lead to the grave. and when we ourselves have grown to manhood and womanhood, and have in turn become parents, we can bestow upon our own offspring the same studious and intelligent care which our parents, according to the light they had, bestowed on us, and thus ideally repay them by doing for others what they did for us. but this is a point which concerns only adults. as for young children, they can show their gratitude in part by slight services, delicacies of behavior, the chief value of which consists in the sentiment that inspires them, but principally by a willing acceptance of parental guidance, and by earnest efforts in the direction of their own intellectual and moral improvement. there is no love so unselfish as parental love. there is nothing which true parents have more at heart than the highest welfare of their children. there is no way in which a child can please father and mother better than by doing that which is for its own highest good. the child's progress in knowledge and in moral excellence are to every parent the most acceptable tokens of filial gratitude. and this leads me to an important point, to which reference has already been made. it has been stated that each period of life has its distinct set of duties; furthermore, that in each period there is one paramount duty, around which the others may be grouped; and, lastly, that at each successive stage it is important to reach backward and to bring the ethical system of the preceding period into harmony with the new system. of this last point we are now in a position to give a simple illustration. the paramount duty of the school period is to acquire knowledge; the paramount duty of the previous period is to reverence parents. but, as has just been shown, reverence toward parents at this stage is best exhibited by conscientious study, and thus the two systems are merged into one.[ ] the fraternal duties. thus much concerning the filial relations. we pass on to speak of the fraternal duties; the duties of brothers to brothers and sisters to sisters; of brothers to sisters and conversely; of older to younger brothers and sisters and conversely. the fraternal duties are founded upon the respect which equals owe to equals. the brotherly relation is of immense pedagogic value, inasmuch as it educates us for the fulfillment later on of our duties toward all equals, be they kinsmen or not. as between brothers, the respect of each for the rights of the other is made comparatively easy by natural inclination. the tie of blood, close and constant association in the same house, common experience of domestic pleasures and sorrows--all this tends to link the hearts of the brothers together, and thus the first lessons in one of the hardest duties are given by love, the gentlest of school-masters. but the word equality must not be misconceived. equality is not to be taken in its mathematical sense. one brother is gifted and may eventually rise to wealth and fame, another is nature's step-child; one sister is beautiful, another the opposite. if the idea of equality be pressed to a literal meaning, it is sure to give rise to ugly feelings in the hearts of the less fortunate. how, then, shall we define equality in the moral sense? a superior, as we have seen, renders services which the inferior can not adequately return. equals are those who are so far on the same level as to be capable of rendering mutual services, alike in importance, though not necessarily the same in kind. equals are correlative to one another. the services of each are complementary to those of the other. the idea of _mutual service_, therefore, is characteristic of the relation of brothers, and the rule of duty may be formulated simply, serve one another. from this follow all the minor commands and prohibitions which are usually impressed upon children,[ ] and also the far loftier counsels which apply only to adults. it will be perceived that the rule of mutual service, when carried to its highest applications, presupposes the principle of individual differentiation, to which we have already attached so much weight. this principle is fundamental to fraternal as well as to paternal and filial duty. for precisely to the extent that brothers are distinctly individualized can they supplement each other and correlate their mutual services. one can not indeed overlook the patent fact that brothers who are unlike in nature frequently repel each other, and that in such cases the very closeness of the relation often becomes a source of extreme irritation, and even of positive agony. but, on the other hand, there is no surer sign of moral ripeness than the ability to enter into, to understand, to appreciate a nature totally unlike one's own, and thus to some extent to appropriate its excellences. the very fact, therefore, that we at first feel ourselves repelled should be taken as a hint that this natural repulsion is to be overcome. for every type of character needs its opposite to correct it. the idealist, for instance, needs the realist, if he would keep his balance. and our uncongenial brothers, precisely because they are at first uncongenial, if we will but remember that they are, after all, our brothers, and that it is our duty to come into harmonious relations with them, can best help us to this fine self-conquest, this true enrichment and enlargement of our moral being. a word may be added as a caution to parents and teachers. the way to create brotherly feeling among the young is to treat them impartially, to love them with an equal love. those who love and are beloved by the same person are strongly induced to love one another. in the next place, when disputes arise, as is perhaps unavoidable, the parent or teacher should, as a rule, enter patiently into the cause and not cut off inquiry because the whole matter seems trivial. the subject matter of the dispute may be insignificant enough, but the satisfaction of the sense of justice of the young is of the greatest significance. when the sense of justice is outraged, be the cause never so trivial, a feeling of distrust against the parent is generated, and of incipient hatred against the brother who may have provoked the unjust decision. i have yet to speak of the duties of older to younger brothers and sisters. if it is difficult to serve two masters, it is hardly pleasant to be asked to serve half a dozen. the youngest children in a large family are often placed in this position. there is, in the first place, the authority of the parents, which must be respected; then, in addition, each of the grown-up sons and daughters is apt to try to exercise a little authority on his or her own account. the younger ones naturally resent this petty despotism, and disobedience and angry recriminations are the unpleasant consequences. it is often necessary that elder sons and daughters should have partial charge of the younger. they can in all cases make their authority acceptable by representing it as delegated, by having it understood that they regard themselves merely as substitutes in the parents' place. there must be unity of influence in the home, or else the moral development of the young will be sadly interfered with. there must be only a single center of authority, represented by the parents, and all minor exercise of authority should be referred back to that center. "father and mother wish me to help you"; "father and mother will be pleased if you do so and so; let me try to show you how"--if the method of management implied in such words as these be adopted, the younger children will look upon the elder as their friends and be glad to accept advice and direction. lastly, a word about the relation between brothers and sisters, and conversely. this relationship is qualified by the difference of sex. a certain chivalry characterizes the attitude of the brother toward the sister, a certain motherliness that of the sister toward the brother. the relation may be and often is a very beautiful one. the peculiar moral responsibility connected with it is that the sister is usually the first woman whom the brother knows at all intimately and as an equal, and that his notions of womanhood are largely influenced by the traits which he sees in her, while the brother is usually the first man whom the sister knows as a companion, and her ideas of men are colored by what she sees in him. to illustrate the fraternal relation i have been in the habit of recalling the stories from the old testament which bear upon this subject. i have also given an account of the life of the brothers jacob and william grimm. there was only a year's difference between them. jacob grimm, in the eulogy on william, which he delivered before the berlin academy in the year , says: "during the slowly creeping years of our school life we slept in the same bed and occupied the same room. there we sat at one and the same table studying our lessons. later on there were two tables and two beds in the same room; and later still, during the entire period of our riper manhood, we still continued to occupy two adjoining rooms, always under the same roof." all their property, and even their books, they held in common; what belonged to the one belonged to the other. they visited the university together in the same year; they both took up, in deference to their mother's wish, the same study, that of the law, which they alike hated, and then they turned in common to the study of philology, in which both delighted and both achieved such great distinction. they published their first important works in the same year; and as they slept together in the same bed when they were children, so now they sleep side by side in the grave. i refer to the story of lear and his daughters to show that the common love for the parents is necessary to sustain the love of brothers and sisters toward one another. lear had estranged the affection of goneril and regan through his partiality for cordelia. the two women, who had no love for their father, hated each other; and goneril, who was the first to cast him out, poisoned her sister. to illustrate the relations of brothers to sisters, i give an account of the beautiful lives of charles and mary lamb. to show the redeeming power of womanhood as represented in a sister, i explain to older pupils the story which underlies goethe's drama of iphigenia. orestes is sick; and what is his malady? his soul has been poisoned by remorse. believing himself to be the executive arm of justice, he committed a great crime, and now he is torn by the pangs of conscience, and his mind is forever dwelling on that scene in which he was a fatal actor. and how does iphigenia heal him? she heals him by the clear truthfulness of her nature, which the play is designed to bring out. with the light of genuine womanhood which emanates from her she illuminates anew his darkened path. by the force of the good which he learns to recognize in her he is led to a new trust in the redeeming power of the good in himself, and thus to start out afresh in a life of courage, hope, and active effort. the teacher should analyze and cause to be committed to memory the various beautiful proverbs which bear upon the subject of fraternal duty. footnotes: [ ] it may also be pointed out to the pupil that a part of the task of intellectual and moral training, which originally belongs entirely to the parents, has by them been intrusted to the teachers, and that something of the reverence which belongs to the former is now due to the latter. [ ] do not quarrel over your respective rights; rather be more eager to secure the rights of your brother than your own. do not triumph in your brother's disgrace or taunt him with his failings, but rather seek to build up his self-respect. help one another in your tasks, etc. xiv. duties toward all men. justice and charity. justice.--the subject of justice is a difficult one to treat. justice in the legal sense is to be distinguished from justice in the moral sense. we are concerned only with the latter. how much of it can we hope to include in such a course of instruction as this? we can, i think, explain the essential principle and give a few of its most important applications. what is this principle? human society is an organism, and the perfection of it depends upon the degree to which the parts related are differentiated. unity of organization is the end, differentiation is the means. the serving of universal ends is the aim, the emphasizing of individuality the means. the principle which underlies the laws of justice i take to be respect for individuality of others. and this may be expressed in the rule, respect the individuality of every human being. it might, indeed, appear at first sight as if justice had to do only with those points in which all men are alike, and took no notice of the differences that subsist between them. thus justice enjoins respect for the life of others; and in regard to this all men are exactly on a par, all men are equally entitled to live. but justice also commands us to respect the convictions of others, however different they may be from our own. and it is but a finer sense of justice which keeps us from intruding on the privacy of others, which leads us to show a proper consideration for the ways and idiosyncrasies of others, and in general to refrain from encroaching on the personality of others. the principle of justice may also be expressed in the rule, do not interfere with the individual development of any one. applications of the principle of justice.-- . _do not kill._ by taking away the life of a human being we should of course cut off all chance of that person's further development. this requires no comment. but certain casuistical questions arise in connection with this command. is it right to kill another in self-defense? the difficulty involved might be put in this way: a burglar breaks into your house by night and threatens to kill you. you have a weapon at hand and can save yourself by killing him. now it is evident that one of two lives must be taken. but would it not be more moral on your part to say: i, at least, will not break the commandment. i would rather be killed than kill? this question serves to show to what absurdities a purely formal principle in ethics can lead, as we have already seen in the discussion of truthfulness. the problem of the duel and that of the taking of the life of others in war also belong under this head, but will be reserved for the advanced course. . _respect the personal liberty of others._ slavery, under whatever form, is an outrage on justice. the slave is degraded to be the mere instrument of his master's profit or pleasure. let the teacher point out in what particulars the slave is wronged, and show the evil effects of the institution of slavery on the character of the master as well as of the slave. question--is it right to speak of wage-slavery, for instance, in cases where the hours of labor are so prolonged as to leave no time for higher interests, or where the relations of the laborer to his employer are such as to impair his moral independence? . _respect the property of others._ unless we are careful we may at this point commit a grave wrong. upon what moral considerations shall the right of property be based? the school, especially the moral lessons which are imparted in it, should certainly not be placed in the service of vested interests. on the other hand, the school should not fill the pupils' minds with economic theories, which they are incapable of understanding, and of which the truth, the justice, the feasibility are still hotly disputed. we are therefore taking a very responsible step in introducing the idea of property at all into our moral lessons. and yet it is too great and important to be ignored. some writers have advanced the theory that the right in question rests on labor, and they regard it as a self-evident proposition, one which, therefore, might safely be taught to the young, that every person is entitled to the products of his labor. jules simon says (see paul janet, elements of morals, english translation, p. ): "this earth was worth nothing and produced nothing. i dug the soil, i brought from a distance fertilizing earth; it is now fertile. this fertility is my work; by fertilizing it, i made it mine." american writers have eloquent passages to the same effect. but this proposition certainly does not appear to me self-evident, nor even true. chiefly for the reason that "my labor" and "my skill" are not original, but derivative factors in production. they are very largely the result of the labor and the skill of generations that have preceded me, that have built up in me this brain, this skill, this power of application. the products of my labor would indeed belong to me if my labor were really mine, if it were not to an incalculable extent the consequent of social antecedents, in regard to which i can not claim the least merit. the attempt to found the rewards of labor upon the merit of the laborer seems to me a perfectly hopeless one. let me add that it is one thing to say that he who will not work shall not eat, and a very different thing to say that he who works shall enjoy what he has produced. the former statement merely signifies that he who will not contribute his share toward sustaining and improving human society is not entitled to any part in the advantages of the social order, though the charity of his fellow-men may grant him, under certain conditions and in the hope of changing his disposition, what he is not entitled to as of right. but the question what the share of the laborer ought to be is one that can not be settled in the rough-and-ready manner above suggested, and the considerations involved are, in truth, far too numerous and complex to be introduced at this stage. the whole question will be reopened later on. for the present it must suffice to state certain purely moral considerations on which the right of property may be made to rest. the following are the ideas which i should seek to develop: property is justified by its uses. its uses are to support the existence and promote the mental and moral growth of man. the physical life itself depends on property. even in a communistic state the food any one eats must be his property in the sense that every one else is debarred from using it. the moral life of men depends on property. the moral life is rooted in the institution of the family, and the family could not exist without a separate domicile of its own and the means of providing for its dependent members. the independence and the growth of the intellect depend on property. in short, property is an indispensable adjunct of _personality_. this i take to be its moral basis. what i here indicate, however, is an ideal right which the existing state of society by no means reflects. by what methods we may best approach this ideal, whether by maintaining and improving the system of private property in land or by state ownership, whether by capitalistic or socialistic production, etc., are questions of means, not of ends, and raise problems in social science with which here we have not to deal. question--if the present social arrangements are not morally satisfactory, if e. g., certain persons possess property to which on moral grounds they are not entitled, should not the commandment against stealing be suspended so far as they are concerned? the present system of rights, imperfect as it is, is the result of social evolution, and denotes the high-water mark of the average ethical consciousness of the world up to date. respect for the existing system of rights, however, imperfect as it is, is the prime condition of obtaining a better system. . _respect the mental liberty of others._ upon this rule of justice is founded the right to freedom of speech, freedom of the press, and what is called the freedom of conscience. point out the limitations of these various rights which follow from the fact of their universality. . _respect the reputation of your fellow-men._ refrain from backbiting and slander. bridle your tongue. this undoubtedly is a rule of justice. "who steals my purse steals trash," etc. the respect of our fellow-men is in itself a source of happiness and a moral prop, and, besides, the greatest help in achieving the legitimate purposes of life. he who has the confidence of others has wings to bear him along. he who is suspected for any reason, true or false, strikes against invisible barriers at every step. nothing is so sensitive as character--a mere breath may tarnish it. it is therefore the gravest kind of injury to our neighbors to disseminate damaging rumors, to throw out dark hints and suggestions with respect to them, to impugn their motives. but is it not a duty to denounce evil and evil-doers and to put the innocent on their guard against wolves in sheep's clothing? yes, if we are sure that our own motives are perfectly disinterested, that we are not in the least prompted by personal spite or prejudice. for if we dislike a person, as every one knows, we can not judge him fairly, we are prone to attribute to him all manner of evil qualities and evil intents which exist only in our own jaundiced imagination. very often a person against whom we had at first conceived a distinct dislike proves on nearer acquaintance to be one whom we can esteem and even love. we should be warned by such experiences to hold our judgments in suspense, and not to allow injurious words to pass the lips. the vast moral importance of being able to hold one's tongue, the golden resources of silence, should be emphasized by the teacher. a series of lessons on good manners may be introduced at this point. the ceremonies of social intercourse, the various forms in which refined people show their deference for each other, the rule not to obtrude self in conversation, and the like, are so many illustrations of the respect which we owe to the personality of our fellow-men. good manners are the æsthetic counterpart of good morals, and the connection between the two can easily be made plain. . _speak the truth._ inward truthfulness is a self-regarding duty; social truthfulness is a form of justice. words represent facts. the words we speak to our neighbor are used by him as building-stones in the architecture of his daily conduct. we have no right to defeat the purposes of his life, to weaken the dwelling he is erecting, by supplying him with worthless building material. upon exactly the same ground is based the duty of keeping one's promises, viz., that our fellow-men build on our promises. promises made in a legal form are called contracts and can be enforced. promises not made in legal form are equally binding from a moral point of view. it should be borne in mind, however, that conditional promises are canceled when the stipulated conditions do not occur, and, furthermore, that there are certain tacit conditions implied in all promises whatsoever. a person who has promised to visit a friend on a certain day and dies in the interval is not supposed to have broken his promise; nor if any one makes a similar promise and a heavy snowstorm should block the roads or if he should be confined to his bed by sickness is he likely to be accused of breaking his promise. the physical possibility of fulfilling them is a tacit condition in all promises. it is also a tacit condition in all promises that it shall be morally possible or consistent with morality to keep them. a young man who has promised to join a gang of burglars in an attack on a bank and who repents at the last moment is morally justified in refusing to keep his pledge. his crime consisted in having made the promise in the first place, not in refusing to fulfill it at the last moment. a person, however, who promises to pay usurious interest on a loan of money and who then takes advantage of the laws against usury to escape payment is a double-dyed rogue, for his intention is to cheat, and he uses the cloak of virtue as a screen in order to cheat with impunity. let the teacher discuss the casuistical question whether it is right to keep a promise made to robbers--e. g., if we should fall into the hands of brigands, and they should make it a condition of our release that we shall not betray their hiding-place. justice is based on positive respect for the individuality of others, but its commands may all be expressed in the negative form: do not kill, do not infringe the liberty, the property of others, do not slander, do not lie, etc. it is often held, however, that there is a positive as well as a negative side to justice, and the two sides are respectively expressed in the formulas: neminem laede and suum cuique--hurt no one and give every one his due. of positive or distributive justice we meet with such examples as the following: in awarding a prize the jury is bound in justice to give the award in favor of the most deserving competitor. the head of a department in filling a vacancy is bound in justice to avoid favoritism, to promote that one of his subordinates who deserves promotion, etc. but it seems to me that this distinction is unimportant. give to each one his due is tantamount to do not deprive any one of what is due him. if the prize or the place belongs to a we should, by withholding it from him, invade the rights of a as much as if we took money out of his purse. the commands are negative, but the virtue implied is positive enough, because it depends on positive respect for human nature. do not infringe upon the sacred territory of another's personality is the rule of justice in all cases. charity.--how shall we distinguish charity from justice? it is said that every one is justified in claiming from others what belongs to him as a matter of right, but that no one can exact charity. the characteristic mark of charity is supposed to be that it is freely given. but if i happen to be rich and can afford to supply the need of another am i not morally bound to do so, and has not my indigent neighbor a real claim upon me? again, it has been said that the term justice is applied to claims which are capable of being formulated in general rules and imposed alike on all men in their dealings with one another, while in the case of charity both the measure and the object of it are to be freely determined by each one. we are free, according to this view, to decide whether a claim upon us exists or not; but, the claim once having been admitted, it is as binding upon us as any of the demands of justice. but, while this is true, i hold that nevertheless there exists a clear distinction between the virtues of justice and charity. we owe justice to our equals, charity to our inferiors. the word "inferior" is to be understood in a carefully limited sense. an employer owes his workmen, as a matter of justice, the wages he has agreed to pay. though they may be socially his inferiors, in regard to this transaction they are his equals. they have agreed to render him certain services and he has agreed to return them an equivalent. justice says do not hinder the development of others; charity says assist the development of others. the application of the rule of charity will make its meaning clear. . justice says do not destroy life; charity says save life. rescue from the flames the inmates of a burning house; leap into the waves to save a drowning fellow-creature. such persons are dependent on your help. they are therefore with respect to you in an inferior position. discuss with the class the limitations of this duty. i am not bound to jump into the water, for instance, when i see a person drowning unless i can swim. in fact, it would be culpable foolhardiness in me to do so. discuss the following casuistical case: a child is lying on the railroad track and a locomotive is rapidly approaching. am i bound to make the attempt to draw it away from the track? does it make any difference whether i am single or the father of a family and have others dependent on me? in general, the attempt to save should not be made unless there is a distinct chance of succeeding without the sacrifice of one's own life; but we are justified in taking great risks, and courage and self-reliance are evinced in the degree of risk we are willing to take. there are cases, however, in which the deliberate sacrifice of one life for another is in the highest degree praiseworthy when, namely, the life to be saved is regarded as far more precious than our own. instance the soldier who intercepts the thrust which is aimed at the life of his general. instance the parent who in the johnstown flood was seen to push his child to a place of safety and was then swept away by the current. . _assist the needy._ this may be done by giving bread to the hungry, clothing to the naked, shelter to the homeless, by caring for the sick, advancing loans to those who are struggling toward self-support, etc. the rule of charity is based on respect for the personality of others. we are required to assist those who are too weak to hold their own, with a view of putting them on their feet again. the aim of all charity should be to make those who are dependent on it independent of it. from this point of view all mere almsgiving, all that so-called charity which only serves to make the dependent classes more dependent, stands condemned. but the true test of charity, upon which the greatest stress should be laid, is to be found in the way it reacts upon the charitable themselves. right relations, whatever their nature, are always mutually beneficial. does the deed of charity react beneficially on the doer? is the test question to be asked in every instance. take the case of a person who gives large sums to the poor in the hope of seeing his name favorably mentioned in the newspapers. the motive in this case is vanity, and the effect of this spurious sort of charity is to increase the vanity of the donor. the reaction upon him, therefore, is morally harmful. again, take the case of a person who gives capriciously, at the bidding of impulse, without considering whether his gifts are likely to be of lasting benefit to the recipients. he is confirmed in his habit of yielding to impulse, and the reaction is likewise morally injurious. on the other hand, the retroactive effects of true charity are most beneficial. in the first place, a reaction will take place in the direction of greater simplicity in our own lives. a person can not be seriously and deeply interested in the condition of the poor, can not truly realize the hardships which they suffer, without being moved to cut off superfluous expenditure. secondly, true charity will teach us to enter into the problems of others, often so unlike our own; to put ourselves in their places; to consider how we should act in their circumstances; to fight their battles for them; and by this means our moral experience will be enlarged, and from being one, we become, as it were, many men. true charity will also draw closer the bond of fellowship between the poor and us, for we shall often discover virtues in them which we do not possess ourselves; and sometimes, at least, we shall have occasion to look up with a kind of awe to those whom we are aiding. in connection with the discussion of charity, let the teacher relate the biographies of john howard, sister dora, florence nightingale, elizabeth fry, and others, who have been distinguished for their devotion to the suffering. . _cheer up the sad._ explain that a bright smile may often have the value of an act of charity. in general, emphasize the duty of suppressing irritability, ill humor, and moodiness, and of contributing to the sunshine of our households.[ ] . _console the bereaved._ the afflicted are for the moment weak and dependent; it is the office of loving charity to make them independent. here the same train of reasoning is applicable as above in the case of the poor. it serves no useful purpose merely to sit down by the side of the sorrowful and to weep with them. they do need sympathy, but they also need, at least after the first paroxysms of grief have subsided, to be roused. the true cure for suffering is action. those who suffer need to be nerved to action; they need to be shown, above all, the new duties which their situation entails. he who can point out to them the way of duty, and can give them of his own strength to walk in that way, is their best friend--he is the true consoler. . i have yet to speak of mental charity and of moral charity. mental charity is practiced by the wise teacher, who puts his pupils on the road to knowledge, who helps them to discover their true vocation, and who, when they are involved in doubt and difficulty, succeeds in giving them the clew by which they can find an exit into mental clearness and light. . moral charity is practiced by those who bend down to the sinful and the fallen, and awaken in them a new hope and trust in the good and in themselves. the charity which effects moral regeneration is perhaps the highest type of all, and of this i know no more fitting nor more sublime example than the dealing of jesus with the outcasts of society. note.--without attempting to forestall further philosophical analysis, we may perhaps assume, as a working hypothesis, as a provisional principle of deduction in ethics, the principle of organization. the individual is an organ of humanity. it is his duty to discharge, as perfectly as possible, his special functions; hence the need of insisting on respect for individuality throughout. even the self-regarding duties would have no meaning were not the complex whole in view, in the economy of which each member is required to perform his part. as in every organism, so in this, each separate organ serves, and is served in turn by all the others, and can attain its highest development only through this constant interaction. to complete the thought, it would be necessary to add that certain organs are more closely connected than others, and form lesser organisms within and subservient to the whole. this, however, is merely thrown out as a suggestion addressed to the student of ethics. the duty of gratitude.--upon this subject much might be said, did not the fact that the time at our command is nearly exhausted warn us to use even greater brevity than heretofore in dealing with the topics that remain. to bring out the right relations between benefactor and beneficiary, let the teacher put the question, why is it wrong to cast up the benefits we have conferred to the one who has received them? and why, on the other hand, is it so base in the latter to show himself ungrateful. the reason is to be found in the respect due to the personality of others, to which we have so often alluded. kant says that every human being is to be treated as an end in himself, and not merely as a means or a tool. in effect, the person who ignores benefits says to his benefactor: you are my tool. it is unnecessary for me to recognize your services, because you are not an independent person to be respected, but a creature to be made use of at pleasure. ingratitude is a slur on the moral personality of others. on the other hand, he who casts up benefits practically says you have forfeited your independence through the favors you have accepted. i have made your personality tributary to mine. an excellent rule is that of seneca. the benefactor should immediately forget what he has given; the beneficiary should always remember what he has received. true gratitude is based on the sense of our moral fellowship with others. the gifts received and returned are mere tokens of this noble relationship (as all gifts should be). you have just given to me. i will presently give to you twice as much again, or half as much, it matters not which, when occasion arises. we will further each other's aims as best we can, for the ends of each are sacred to the other. duties to servants.--having spoken of the duties which we owe to all men, i may here refer to certain special duties, such as the duties toward servants. these may also be introduced in connection with the duties of the family, after the filial and fraternal duties have been considered. i have space only to mention the following points: . servants are laborers. the same respect is due to them as to all other laborers. . they are not only laborers, but in a special sense helpers. they are members of the household in a subordinate capacity, and in many cases identify themselves closely with the interests of the family. they are, as it were, lay brothers and lay sisters of the family. from these considerations may be deduced the duties which we owe toward servants. duties with regard to animals.--i can not admit that we have duties toward animals. we can not very well speak of duties toward creatures on which we in part subsist; but there are duties with respect to animals. man is a rational being, and as such takes a natural delight in that orderly arrangement and interdependence of parts which are the visible counterpart of the rational principle in his own nature. we ought not to step on or heedlessly crush under our feet even a single flower. much less should we ruthlessly destroy the more perfect organism which we see in animals. add to this that animals are sentient creatures, and that the useless infliction of pain tends to develop cruelty in us. as a practical means of fostering kindness toward animals, i suggest the following: get your pupils interested in the habits of animals. familiarity in this case will breed sympathy. speak of the building instincts of bees; of the curious structures raised by those wonderful engineers, the beavers. give prominence to the love for their young by which the brute creation is brought into closer connection with the human family. mention especially the fidelity which some animals show toward man (the saving of human lives by st. bernard dogs, etc.), and the uses which we derive from the various members of the animal creation. as to the fact that we use animals for our sustenance, the highest point of view to take, i think, is this, that man is, so to speak, the crucible in which all the utilities of nature are refined to higher spiritual uses. man puts the whole of nature under contribution to serve his purposes. he takes trees from the forest in order to build his house, and to fashion the table at which he takes his meals; he brings up metal from the depths of the earth and converts it into tools; he takes clay and forms it into vessels. he also is permitted to pluck flowers wherewith to garnish his feasts, and to make them the tokens of his love; and in the same manner he may actually absorb the life of the lower animals, in order to transform and transfigure it, as it were, into that higher life which is possible only in human society. but it follows that he is a mere parasite and an interloper in nature, unless he actually leads the truly human life. footnote: [ ] for the teacher i add point . the duties mentioned under and may be practiced in a simple way by the young in the form of aiding their backward schoolmates, and observing the right attitude toward those of their companions who are in disgrace. xv. the elements of civic duty. it should be the aim of the school not only to connect the system of school duties with the duties of the previous period, but also to prepare the pupils morally for the period which follows. the school is the intermediate link between life in the family and life in society and the state. the course of moral instruction, therefore, culminates for the present in the chapter on civic duties. needless to say that at this stage the subject can be considered in its elements only. the claims of the state upon the moral attachment of the citizen can hardly be presented too warmly. life in the state as well as in the family is indispensable to the full development of character. man, in his progress from childhood to old age, passes successively through ever-widening circles of duty, and new moral horizons open upon him as he grows out of one into the other. one of the largest of these circles, and, in respect to moral opportunities, one of the richest and most glorious, is the state. it may be said that the whole state exists ideally in every true citizen, or, what amounts to the same, that the true citizen embraces the interests of the state, as if they were his own, and acts from the point of view of the total body politic. increased breadth of view and elevation of purpose are the moral benefits which accrue to every one who even honestly attempts to be a citizen in this sense. much attention is paid in some schools to the machinery of our government. the pupils are expected to learn the exact functions of mayors, city councils, and legislative bodies, the provisions relative to the election of the president, etc. but while these things ought to be known, they relate, after all, only to the externals of government; and it is far more important to familiarize the pupils with the animating spirit of political institutions, with the great ideas which underlie the state. there are especially three political ideas to which i should give prominence; these are, the idea of the supremacy of the law; the true idea of punishment; and the idea of nationality. after we have instilled these ideas, it will be time enough to dwell with greater particularity on the machinery by which it is sought to carry them into effect. what method shall we use for instilling these ideas? the same which modern pedagogy applies in every branch of instruction. the rule is, proceed from the known to the unknown; in introducing a new notion, connect it with some analogous notion already in the pupil's possession. the school offers excellent opportunities for developing the two ideas of law and punishment. in every school there exists a body of rules and regulations, or school laws. it should be made plain to the scholars that these laws are enacted for their own good. the government of the school should be made to rest as far as possible on the consent and co-operation of the governed. that school which does not secure on the part of the scholars a willing acceptance of the system of restraints which is necessary for the good of the whole, is a failure. in such an institution the law-abiding spirit can never be fostered. the play-ground, too, affords a preliminary training for future citizenship. on the play-ground the scholars learn to select and to obey their own leaders, to maintain the rules of the game, and to put down any infraction of them, whether in the shape of violence or fraud. they also learn to defer to the will of the majority--a most important lesson, especially in democratic communities--and to bear defeat good-humoredly.[ ] the true idea of punishment should be brought home to the scholars through the discipline of the school. the ends of punishment are the protection of the community and the reformation of the offender. nowhere better than in the little commonwealth of the school can these moral aspects of punishment be impressed; nowhere better can the foundation be laid for the changes which are so urgently needed in the dealings of the state with the criminal class. everything, of course, depends upon the character of the teacher. his reputation for strict justice, the moral earnestness he displays in dealing with offenses, his readiness to forbear and forgive upon the least sign of genuine repentance--these are the means by which he can instill right notions as to what discipline should be. it has been suggested that, when a particularly serious case of transgression occurs, the teacher can sometimes produce a profound moral effect on the class by submitting the case to them as a jury and asking for their verdict. the idea of nationality i regard as fundamental in political ethics. there is such a thing as national character, national genius, or national individuality. when we think of the greeks, we think of them as pre-eminent for their achievements in art and philosophy; of the hebrews, as the people of the bible; of the romans, as the founders of jurisprudence, etc. and on turning to the modern nations we find that the talents of the english, the germans, the french, the italians, etc., are no less diversified. morally speaking, it is the mission of each nation in correlation with others to contribute to the universal work of civilization its own peculiar gifts. the state may be regarded as that organization of the public life which is designed _to develop the national individuality_; to foster the national genius in whatever direction it may seek to express itself, whether in industry, art, literature, or science; to clarify its aims, and to raise it to the highest pitch of beneficent power. doubtless this idea, as stated, is too abstract to be grasped by the young; but it can be brought down to their level in a tangible way. for the national genius expresses itself in the national history, and more especially is it incorporated in those great leaders, who arise at critical periods to guide the national development into new channels. it is at this point that we realize anew the important support which the teaching of history may give to the moral teaching.[ ] thus the political history of the united states, if i may be permitted to use that as an illustration of my thought, may be divided into three great periods. the struggle with nature occupied the earliest period--that of colonization; in this period we see the american man engaged in subduing a continent. the struggle for political freedom fills the period of the revolution. the struggle for a universal moral idea lends grandeur to our civil war. the story of these three great struggles should be related with such clearness that the idea which dominated each may stand out in relief, and with such fervor that the pupils may conceive a more ardent love for their country which, at the same time that it holds out immeasurable prospects for the future, already possesses such glorious traditions. there is, however, always a great danger that patriotism may degenerate into chauvinism. against this, universal history, when taught in the right spirit, is the best antidote. a knowledge of universal history is an admirable check on spurious patriotism. in teaching it, it is especially desirable that the contribution which each nation has made to the progress of the world be noted and emphasized. let the teacher speak of the early development of the literature and of the inventive spirit of the despised chinese; of the high civilization which once flourished on the banks of the nile; of the immortal debt we owe to greece and rome and judea. let the young be made acquainted with the important services which ireland rendered to european culture in the early part of the middle ages. let them learn, however briefly, of the part which france played in the overthrow of feudalism, of the wealth of german science and literature and philosophy; let them know how much mankind owes to the parliaments of england, and to the stout heart and strong sense which made parliaments possible. it is not by underrating others, but by duly estimating and appreciating their achievements, that we shall find ourselves challenged to bring forth what is best in ourselves. there is still another reason why, especially in american schools, the teaching of universal history should receive far greater attention than hitherto has been accorded to it. the american people are imbued with the belief that they have a problem to solve for all mankind. they have set out to demonstrate in the face of doubt and adverse criticism the possibility of popular self-government. they have thus consecrated their national life to a sublime humanitarian idea. and the sense of this consecration, echoing in the utterances of many of their leading statesmen, has more or less permeated the whole people. but the mission thus assumed, like the burden on the shoulders of christophorus, is becoming heavier at every step. the best citizens recognize that the problem of popular self-government, so far from being solved, is but beginning to disclose itself in all its vast complexity, and they realize more than ever how necessary it is to get every possible help from the example and experience of older nations. the political lessons of the past can not indeed be mastered in the public schools. but a preliminary interest in european history may be created, which will pave the way for profitable study later on. furthermore, the american people have extended a most liberal invitation to members of other nationalities (with few restrictions, and these of recent origin) to come and join in working out the destinies of the new continent. not only is an asylum granted to the oppressed--this were the lesser boon--but the gates of citizenship have been opened wide to the new-comers. what does this mean, if not that the foreigners who come, unless indeed they belong to the weak and dependent classes, are wanted; and wanted not only in their capacity as workers to aid in developing the material resources of the country, but as citizens, to help in perfecting what is still imperfect, to assist in building up in time, on american soil, the true republic. in return for this privilege the citizens of foreign birth owe it to their adopted country to place the best of their racial gifts at its service. much that the citizens of foreign birth bring with them, indeed, will have to be eliminated, but, on the other hand, many of their traits will probably enter as constituent elements into the national character. the anglo-saxon race has now the lead, and will doubtless keep it. but in the melting-pot of the american commonwealths the elements of many diverse nationalities are being mixed anew, and a new nationality distinctively american is likely to be the final outcome of the process. thus both the humanitarian ideal and the actual make-up of the people betray a cosmopolitan tendency, and it is this tendency which, more perhaps than anything else, gives to american political life its characteristic physiognomy. if this be so, if the foreign elements are so numerous and likely to be so influential, it is surely important that the foreign races, their character and their history, be studied and understood. besides explaining the political ideas, i should briefly describe the actual functions of government. government protects the life and property of its citizens against foreign aggression and violence at home. government maintains the binding force of contracts. government reserves to itself the coinage of money, carries the mails, supports public education, etc. in a word, government assumes those functions which can be discharged more satisfactorily or more economically by the joint action of the community than if left to private individuals or corporations. but government also undertakes the duty of protecting the weaker classes against oppression by the stronger, as is shown by factory legislation in the interest of women and minors. how far this function may profitably be extended is open to discussion; but that it has been assumed in all civilized countries is a fact which should be noted. footnotes: [ ] _vide_ dole, "the american citizen." [ ] see remarks on this subject in the third lecture. xvi. the use of proverbs and speeches. for the use of my classes i have made a collection of proverbs from the bible, from buddha's dhammapada, from the encheiridion of epictetus, the imitation of christ, and other ancient and modern sources. some of these belong to the advanced course, others can be used in the grammar course. i have time to mention only a few, in order to illustrate the method of using them. the habit of committing proverbs or golden sayings to memory without a previous analysis of their meaning serves no good purpose whatever. proverbs are the condensed expression of the moral experience of generations. the teacher should search out the experiences to which the proverbs refer. proverbs may be compared to those delicate eastern fabrics which can be folded up into the smallest compass, but which, when unfolded, are seen to cover a large space. the teacher should explore the territory covered by the proverb. take, for example, such a saying as this, "blessed be he who has the good eye." what is the good eye? the eye that sees the good in others. is it easy to see the good in others? yes, if we are fond of them; but if we are not, we are likely to see only the evil. but suppose there is no good to be seen, at least not on the surface; why, then the good eye is that which sees the good beneath the surface, which, like the divining-rod, shows where in human character gold lies buried, and helps us to penetrate to it. but even this does not exhaust the meaning of the proverb. the good eye is that which, as it were, sees the good into others, sends its good influence into them, makes them good by believing them to be so. the good eye is a creative eye. or take the proverb, "a falsehood is like pebbles in the mouth." why not say a falsehood is like a pebble? no, one falsehood is like many pebbles. for every falsehood tends to multiply itself, and each separate falsehood is like a pebble--not like bread, which we can assimilate, but like a stone, a foreign body, alien to our nature. moreover, the proverb says, a falsehood is like pebbles in the mouth; which means that these stony falsehoods will choke us, choke the better life in us, unless we cast them out. again, take such sayings as these from the dhammapada: "as rain breaks through an ill-thatched house, passion will break through an unreflecting mind." explain what kind of reflection is needed to keep off passion. "he who is well subdued may subdue others." show what kind of self-control is meant, and in what sense others are to be subdued. "he who holds back anger like a rolling chariot, him i call a real driver; other people are but holding the reins." "let a man overcome anger by love; let him overcome evil by good; let him overcome the greedy by liberality, the liar by truth." describe the sort of brake by means of which the rolling chariot of anger may be checked in mid-course, and the efficacy of goodness in overcoming evil. from the encheiridion it occurs to me to mention the saying, "everything has two handles: the one by which it can be borne, the other by which it can not be borne." epictetus himself gives an illustration: "if your brother acts unjustly toward you, do not lay hold of the act by that handle wherein he acts unjustly, for that is the handle by which it can not be borne; but lay hold of the other, that he is your brother, and you will lay hold of the thing by that handle by which it can be borne." there are also many other illustrations of this noble maxim. disappointment has two handles, the one by which it can be borne, the other by which it can not. affliction has two handles. illustrate profusely; search out the meaning in detail. there is a mine of practical wisdom in these sayings. there exist proverbs relating to all the various duties which have been discussed in our course; proverbs relating to the pursuit of knowledge; many and beautiful proverbs on the filial and fraternal duties, on courage, on humility, on the importance of keeping promises, on kindness to animals, on the moral end of civil society. proverbs should be classified under their proper heads and used as occasion offers. permit me, however, to add one word of caution. it is a mistake to teach too many proverbs at a time, to overload the pupil's mind with them. the proverbs selected should be brief, pithy, and profoundly significant. but there should not be too many at a time. it is better to return to the same proverb often, and to penetrate deeper into its meaning every time. the value of the proverbs is that they serve as pegs in the memory, to which long chains of moral reflection can be attached. they are guide-posts pointing with their short arms to the road of duty; they are voices of mankind uttering impressive warnings, and giving clear direction in moments when the promptings of self-interest or the mists of passion would be likely to lead us astray. it may also be well to select a number of speeches which embody high moral sentiments, like some of the speeches of isaiah, the speech of socrates before his judges, and others, and, after having explained their meaning, to cause them to be recited by the pupils. just as the delivery of patriotic speeches is found useful for inculcating patriotic sentiments, so such speeches as these will tend to quicken the moral sentiments. he who repeats the speech of another for the time being puts on the character of the other. the sentiments which are uttered by the lips live for the moment in the heart, and leave their mark there. xvii. the individualization of moral teaching. this subject is of the greatest importance. it really requires extended and careful treatment, but a few hints must suffice. the teacher should remember that he is educating not boys and girls in general, but particular boys and girls, each of whom has particular faults needing to be corrected and actual or potential virtues to be developed and encouraged. therefore a conscientious study of the character of the pupils is necessary. this constitutes an additional reason why moral instruction should be given in a daily school rather than in a sunday school, the opportunities for the study of character being vastly better in the former than they can possibly be in the latter. the teacher who gives the moral lessons, in undertaking this study, should solicit the co-operation of all the other teachers of the school. he should request from time to time from each of his fellow-teachers reports stating the good and bad traits observed in each pupil, or rather the facts on which the various teachers base their estimates of the good and bad qualities of the scholars; for the opinions of teachers are sometimes unreliable, are sometimes discolored by prejudice, while facts tell their own story. these facts should be collated by the moral teacher, and, with them as a basis, he may endeavor to work out a kind of chart of the character of each of his pupils. it goes without saying, that he should also seek the co-operation of the parents, for the purpose of discovering what characteristic traits the pupil displays at home; and if the reputation which a pupil bears among his companions, can be ascertained without undue prying, this, too, will be found of use in forming an estimate of his disposition. the teacher who knows the special temptations of his pupils will have many opportunities, in the course of the moral lessons, to give them pertinent warnings and advice, without seeming to address them in particular or exposing their faults to the class. he will also be able to exercise a helpful surveillance over their conduct in school, and to become in private their friend and counselor. moreover, the material thus collected will in time prove serviceable in helping us to a more exact knowledge of the different varieties of human character--a knowledge which would give to the art of ethical training something like a scientific basis.[ ] footnote: [ ] see some remarks on types of character in my lecture on the punishment of children. recapitulation. let us now briefly review the ground we have gone over in the present course. in the five introductory lectures we discussed the problem of unsectarian moral teaching, the efficient motives of good conduct, the opportunities of moral influence in schools, the classification of duties, and the moral status of the child on entering school. in mapping out the primary course we assumed as a starting-point the idea that the child rapidly passes through the same stages of evolution through which the human race has passed, and hence we endeavored to select our material for successive epochs in the child's life from the literature of the corresponding epochs in the life of the race. in regard to the method of instruction, we observed that in the fairy tales the moral element should be touched on incidentally; that in teaching the fables isolated moral qualities should be presented in such a way that the pupil may always thereafter be able to recognize them; while the stories display a number of moral qualities in combination and have the value of moral pictures. in the primary course the object has been to train the moral perceptions; in the grammar course, to work out moral concepts and to formulate rules of conduct. the method of getting at these rules may again be described as follows: begin with some concrete case, suggest a rule which apparently fits that case or really fits it, adduce other cases which the rule does not fit, change the rule, modify it as often as necessary, until it has been brought into such shape that it will fit every case you can think of. in planning the lessons on duty which make up the subject matter of the grammar course, we took the ground that each period of life has its specific duties, that in each period there is one paramount duty around which the others may be grouped, and that each new system of duties should embrace and absorb the preceding one. it remains for me to add that the illustrations which i have used in the grammar course are intended merely to serve as specimens, and by no means to exclude the use of different illustrative matter which the teacher may find more suitable. furthermore, i desire to express the hope that it may be possible, without too much difficulty, to eliminate whatever subjective conceptions may be found to have crept into these lessons, and that, due deduction having been made, there may remain a substratum of objective truth which all can accept. it should be remembered that these lectures are not intended to take the place of a text-book, but to serve as a guide to the teacher in preparing his lessons. i hope hereafter to continue the work which has thus been begun. in the advanced course, which is to follow the present one, we shall have to reconsider from a higher point of view many of the subjects already treated, and in addition to take up such topics as the ethics of the professions, the ethics of friendship, conjugal ethics, etc., which have here been omitted. i shall also attempt to indicate the lines for a systematic study of biographies, and to lay out a course of selected readings from the best ethical literature of ancient and modern times. appendix. the influence of manual training on character.[ ] manual training has recently been suggested as one of the means of combating the criminal tendency in the young, and this suggestion is being received with increasing favor. but until now the theory of manual training has hardly begun to be worked out. the confidence which is expressed in it is based, for the most part, on unclassified experience. but experience without theory is altogether insufficient. theory, it is true, without experience is without feet to stand. but experience without the guiding and directing help of theory is without eyes to see. i shall now offer, in a somewhat tentative way, a few remarks intended to be a contribution to the philosophy of manual training as applied to the reformation of delinquent children. i shall confine myself, however, to one type of criminality in children--a not uncommon type--that of moral deterioration arising from weakness of the will. in the first place, let us distinguish between feeling, desiring, and willing. a person who is without food feels hunger. a person who, being hungry, calls up in his mind images of food, will experience a desire. a person who adopts means to obtain food performs an act of the will. a russian prisoner in siberia who suffers from the restraints of confinement is in a state of feeling. the same person, when he recalls images of home and friends, is in a state of desire; but when he sets about adopting the means to effect his escape, concerts signals with his fellow-prisoners, undermines the walls of his dungeon, etc., he is performing acts of the will. permit me to call particular attention to the fact that the will is characterized at its birth by the intellectual factor which enters into it; for the calculation of means to ends is an intellectual process, and every conscious act of volition involves such a process. if the will is thus characterized at its birth, we can at once anticipate the conclusion that any will will be strong in proportion as the intellectual factor in it predominates. it was said by one of the speakers that "an ounce of affection is better than a ton of intellect." give me a proper mixture of the two. give me at least an ounce of intellect together with an ounce of affection. there is great danger lest we exaggerate the importance of the emotions for morality. the opinion is widely entertained that good feeling, kind feeling, loving feeling, is the whole of morality, or, at least, the essential factor in it. but this opinion is surely erroneous. the will may be compared to the power which propels a ship through the waves. feeling is the rudder. the intellect is the helmsman. let me give illustrations to bring into view the characteristics of a strong and of a weak will. great inventors, great statesmen, great reformers, illustrate strength of will. we note in them especially tenacity of purpose and a marvelous faculty for adjusting and readjusting means to ends. persons who are swayed by the sensual appetites illustrate weakness of will. we note in them vacillation of purpose, and the power of adjusting means to ends only in its rudimentary form. the ideas of virtue are complex. no one can illustrate virtue on a high plane unless he is capable of holding in mind long trains and complex groups of ideas. the lowest vices, on the other hand, are distinguished by the circumstance that the ends to which they look are simple, and the means employed often of the crudest kind. thus, suppose that a person of weak will is hungry. he knows that gold will buy food. he adopts the readiest way to get gold. incapable of that long and complex method of attaining his end, which is exhibited, for instance, by the farmer who breaks the soil, plants the corn, watches his crops, and systematizes his labors from the year's beginning to its end, he takes the shortest road toward the possession of gold--he stretches forth his hand and takes it where he finds it. the man of weak will, who has a grudge against his rival, is not capable of putting forth a sustained and complex series of efforts toward obtaining satisfaction, for instance, by laboring arduously to outstrip his rival. he is, furthermore, incapable of those larger considerations, those complex groups of ideas relating to society and its permanent interests, which check the angry passions in the educated. he gives free and immediate rein to the passion as it rises. he takes the readiest means of getting satisfaction: he draws the knife and kills. the man of weak will, who burns with sensual desire, assaults the object of his desire. the virtues depend in no small degree on the power of serial and complex thinking. those vices which are due to weakness of will are characterized by the crudeness of the aim and the crudeness of the means. to strengthen the will, therefore, it is necessary to give to the person of weak will the power to think connectedly, and especially to reach an end by long and complex trains of means. let us pause here for a moment to elucidate this point by briefly considering a type of criminality which is familiar to all guardians of delinquent children. this type is marked by a group of salient traits, which may be roughly described as follows: mental incoherency is the first. the thoughts of the child are, as it were, slippery, tending to glide past one another without mutual attachments. a second trait is indolence. a third, deficiency in the sense of shame; to which may be added that the severest punishments fail to act as deterrents. mental incoherency is the leading trait, and supplies the key for the understanding of the others. lack of connectedness between ideas is the radical defect. each idea, as it rises, becomes an impulse, and takes effect to the full limit of its suggestions. a kind thought rises in the mind of such a child, and issues in a demonstrative impulse of affection. shortly after, a cruel thought may rise in the mind of the same child; and the cruel thought will, in like manner, take effect in a cruel act. children answering to this type are alternately kind, affectionate, and cruel. the child's indolence is due to the same cause--lack of connectedness between ideas. it is incapable of sustained effort, because every task implies the ability to pass from one idea to related ideas. the child is deficient in shame, because the sense of shame depends on a vivid realization of the idea of self. the idea of self, however, is a complex idea, which is not distinctly and clearly present to such a child. lastly, the most severe punishments fail to act as deterrents for the same reason. the two impressions left in the mind, "i did a wrong," "i suffered a pain," lie apart. the memory of one does not excite the recollection of the other. the thought of the wrong does not lift permanently into consciousness the thought of the pain which followed. the punishment, as we say, is quickly forgotten. if, therefore, we wish to remedy a deep-seated defect of this kind, if we wish to cure a weak will, in such and all similar cases we must seek to establish a closer connection between the child's ideas. the question may now be asked, why should we not utilize to this end the ordinary studies of the school curriculum--history, geography, arithmetic, etc.? all of these branches exercise and develop the faculty of serial and complex thinking. any sum in multiplication gives a training of this kind. let the task be to multiply a multiplicand of four figures by a multiplier of three. first the child must multiply every figure in the multiplicand by the units of the multiplier and write down the result; then by the tens, and then by the hundreds, and combine these results. here is a lesson in combination, in serial, and, for a young child, somewhat complex thinking. let the task be to bound the state of new york. the child must see the mental picture of the state in its relation to other states and parts of states, to lakes and rivers and mountains--a complex group of ideas. or, let it be required to give a brief account of the american revolution. here is a whole series of events, each depending on the preceding ones. why, then, may we not content ourselves with utilizing the ordinary studies of the school curriculum? there are two reasons. first, because history, geography, and arithmetic are not, as a rule, interesting to young children, especially not to young children of the class with which we are now dealing. these listless minds are not easily roused to an interest in abstractions. secondly, it is a notorious fact that intellectual culture, pure and simple, is quite consistent with weakness of the will. a person may have very high intellectual attainments, and yet be morally deficient. i need hardly warn my reflective hearers that, when emphasizing the importance for the will of intellectual culture, i had in mind the intellectual process as applied to acts. to cultivate the intellect in its own sphere of contemplation and abstraction, apart from action, may leave the will precisely as feeble as it was before. and now, all that has been said thus far converges upon the point that has been in view from the beginning--the importance of manual training as an element in disciplining the will. manual training fulfills the conditions i have just alluded to. it is interesting to the young, as history, geography, and arithmetic often are not. precisely those pupils who take the least interest or show the least aptitude for literary study are often the most proficient in the workshop and the modeling-room. nature has not left these neglected children without beautiful compensations. if they are deficient in intellectual power, they are all the more capable of being developed on their active side. thus, manual training fulfills the one essential condition--it is interesting. it also fulfills the second. by manual training we cultivate the intellect in close connection with action. manual training consists of a series of actions which are controlled by the mind, and which react on it. let the task assigned be, for instance, the making of a wooden box. the first point to be gained is to attract the attention of the pupil to the task. a wooden box is interesting to a child, hence this first point will be gained. lethargy is overcome, attention is aroused. next, it is important to keep the attention fixed on the task: thus only can tenacity of purpose be cultivated. manual training enables us to keep the attention of the child fixed upon the object of study, because the latter is concrete. furthermore, the variety of occupations which enter into the making of the box constantly refreshes this interest after it has once been started. the wood must be sawed to line. the boards must be carefully planed and smoothed. the joints must be accurately worked out and fitted. the lid must be attached with hinges. the box must be painted or varnished. here is a sequence of means leading to an end, a series of operations all pointing to a final object to be gained, to be created. again, each of these means becomes in turn and for the time being a secondary end; and the pupil thus learns, in an elementary way, the lesson of subordinating minor ends to a major end. and, when finally the task is done, when the box stands before the boy's eyes a complete whole, a serviceable thing, sightly to the eyes, well adapted to its uses, with what a glow of triumph does he contemplate his work! the pleasure of achievement now comes in to crown his labor; and this sense of achievement, in connection with the work done, leaves in his mind a pleasant after-taste, which will stimulate him to similar work in the future. the child that has once acquired, in connection with the making of a box, the habits just described, has begun to master the secret of a strong will, and will be able to apply the same habits in other directions and on other occasions. or let the task be an artistic one. and let me here say that manual training is incomplete unless it covers art training. many otherwise excellent and interesting experiments in manual training fail to give satisfaction because they do not include this element. the useful must flower into the beautiful, to be in the highest sense useful. nor is it necessary to remind those who have given attention to the subject of education how important is the influence of the beautiful is in refining the sentiments and elevating the nature of the young. let the task, then, be to model a leaf, a vase, a hand, a head. here again we behold the same advantages as in the making of the box. the object is concrete, and therefore suitable for minds incapable of grasping abstractions. the object can be constantly kept before the pupil's eyes. there is gradual approximation toward completeness, and at last that glow of triumph! what child is not happy if he has produced something tangible, something that is the outgrowth of his own activity, especially if it be something which is charming to every beholder? and now let me briefly summarize certain conclusions to which reflection has led me in regard to the subject of manual training in reformatory institutions. manual training should be introduced into every reformatory. in new york city we have tested a system of work-shop lessons for children between six and fourteen. there is, i am persuaded, no reason why manual training should not be applied to the youngest children in reformatories. manual training should always include art training. the labor of the children of reformatories should never be let to contractors. i heartily agree with what was said on that subject this morning. the pupils of reformatories should never make heads of pins or the ninetieth fraction of a shoe. let there be no machine work. let the pupils turn out complete articles, for only thus can the full intellectual and moral benefits of manual training be reaped. agriculture, wherever the opportunities are favorable, offers, on the whole, the same advantages as manual training, and should be employed if possible, in connection with it. i have thus far attempted to show how the will can be made strong. but a strong will is not necessarily a good will. it is true, there are influences in manual training, as it has been described, which are favorable to a virtuous disposition. squareness in things is not without relation to squareness in action and in thinking. a child that has learned to be exact--that is, truthful--in his work will be predisposed to be scrupulous and truthful in his speech, in his thought, in his acts. the refining and elevating influence of artistic work i have already mentioned. but, along with and over and above all these influences, i need hardly say to you that, in the remarks which i have offered this evening, i have all along taken for granted the continued application of those tried and excellent methods which prevail in our best reformatories. i have taken for granted that isolation from society, which shuts out temptation; that routine of institutional life, which induces regularity of habit; that strict surveillance of the whole body of inmates and of every individual, which prevents excesses of the passions, and therefore starves them into disuse. i have taken for granted the cultivation of the emotions, the importance of which i am the last to undervalue. i have taken for granted the influence of good example, good literature, good music, poetry, and religion. all i have intended to urge is that between good feeling and the realization of good feeling there exists, in persons whose will-power is weak, a hiatus, and that manual training is admirably adapted to fill that hiatus. there is another advantage to be noted in connection with manual training--namely, that it develops the property sense. what, after all, apart from artificial social convention, is the foundation of the right of property? on what basis does it rest? i have a proprietary right in my own thoughts. i have a right to follow my tastes in the adornment of my person and my house. i have a right to the whole sphere of my individuality, my selfhood; and i have a right in _things_ so far as i use them to express my personality. the child that has made a wooden box has put a part of himself into the making of that box--his thought, his patience, his skill, his toil--and therefore the child feels that that box is in a certain sense his own. and as only those who have the sense of ownership are likely to respect the right of ownership in others, we may by manual training cultivate the property sense of the child; and this, in the case of the delinquent child, it will be admitted, is no small advantage. i have confined myself till now to speaking of the importance of manual training in its influence on the character of delinquent children. i wish to add a few words touching the influence of manual training on character in general, and its importance for children of all classes of society. i need not here speak of the value of manual training to the artisan class. that has been amply demonstrated of late by the many technical and art schools which the leading manufacturing nations of europe have established and are establishing. i need not speak of the value of manual training to the future surgeon, dentist, scientist, and to all those who require deftness of hand in the pursuit of their vocations. but i do wish to speak of the value of manual training to the future lawyer and clergyman, and to all those who will perhaps never be called upon to labor with their hands. precisely because they will not labor with their hands is manual training so important for them--in the interest of an all-round culture--in order that they may not be entirely crippled on one side of their nature. the greek legend says that the giant antæus was invincible so long as his feet were planted on the solid earth. we need to have a care that our civilization shall remain planted on the solid earth. there is danger lest it may be developed too much into the air--that we may become too much separated from those primal sources of strength from which mankind has always drawn its vitality. the english nobility have deliberately adopted hunting as their favorite pastime. they follow as a matter of physical exercise, in order to keep up their physical strength, a pursuit which the savage man followed from necessity. the introduction of athletics in colleges is a move in the same direction. but it is not sufficient to maintain our physical strength, our brute strength, the strength of limb and muscle. we must also preserve that spiritualized strength which we call skill--the tool-using faculty, the power of impressing on matter the stamp of mind. and the more machinery takes the place of human labor, the more necessary will it be to resort to manual training as a means of keeping up skill, precisely as we have resorted to athletics as a means of keeping up strength. there is one word more i have to say in closing. twenty-five years ago, as the recent memories of gettysburg recall to us, we fought to keep this people a united nation. then was state arrayed against state. to-day class is beginning to be arrayed against class. the danger is not yet imminent, but it is sufficiently great to give us thought. the chief source of the danger, i think, lies in this, that the two classes of society have become so widely separated by difference of interests and pursuits that they no longer fully understand one another, and misunderstanding is the fruitful source of hatred and dissension. this must not continue. the manual laborer must have time and opportunity for intellectual improvement. the intellectual classes, on the other hand, must learn manual labor; and this they can best do in early youth, in the school, before the differentiation of pursuits has yet begun. our common schools are rightly so named. the justification of their support by the state is not, i think, as is sometimes argued, that the state should give a sufficient education to each voter to enable him at least to read the ballot which he deposits. this is but a poor equipment for citizenship at best. the justification for the existence of our common schools lies rather in the bond of common feeling which they create between the different classes of society. and it is this bond of common feeling woven in childhood that has kept and must keep us a united people. let manual training, therefore, be introduced into the common schools; let the son of the rich man learn, side by side with the son of the poor man, to labor with his hands; let him thus practically learn to respect labor; let him learn to understand what the dignity of manual labor really means, and the two classes of society, united at the root, will never thereafter entirely grow asunder. a short time ago i spent an afternoon with a poet whose fame is familiar to all. there was present in the company a gentleman of large means, who, in the course of conversation, descanted upon the merits of the protective system, and spoke in glowing terms of the growth of the industries of his state and of the immense wealth which is being accumulated in its large cities. the aged poet turned to him, and said: "that is all very well. i like your industries and your factories and your wealth; but, tell me, do they turn out men down your way?" that is the question which we are bound to consider. _is this civilization of ours turning out men_--manly men and womanly women? now, it is a cheering and encouraging thought that technical labor, which is the source of our material aggrandizement, may also become, when employed in the education of the young, the means of enlarging their manhood, quickening their intellect, and strengthening their character. the end. footnote: [ ] an address delivered before the national conference of charities and correction, at buffalo, july, . d. appleton & co.'s publications. miscellaneous works of herbert spencer. _education: intellectual, moral, and physical._ mo. paper, cents; cloth, $ . . contents: what knowledge is of most worth?--intellectual education.--moral education.--physical education. _social statics._ by herbert spencer. new and revised edition, including "the man _versus_ the state," a series of essays on political tendencies heretofore published separately. mo. pages. cloth, $ . . having been much annoyed by the persistent quotation from the old edition of "social statics," in the face of repeated warnings, of views which he had abandoned, and by the misquotation of others which he still holds, mr. spencer some ten years ago stopped the sale of the book in england and prohibited its translation. but the rapid spread of communistic theories gave new life to these misrepresentations; hence mr. spencer decided to delay no longer a statement of his mature opinions on the rights of individuals and the duty of the state. contents: happiness as an immediate aim.--unguided expediency.--the moral-sense doctrine.--what is morality?--the evanescence [? diminution] of evil.--greatest happiness must be sought indirectly.--derivation of a first principle.--secondary derivation of a first principle.--first principle.--application of this first principle.--the right of property.--socialism.--the right of property in ideas.--the rights of women.--the rights of children.--political rights.--the constitution of the state.--the duty of the state.--the limit of state-duty.--the regulation of commerce.--religious establishments.--poor-laws.--national education.--government colonization.--sanitary supervision.--currency postal arrangements, etc.--general considerations.--the new toryism.--the coming slavery.--the sins of legislators.--the great political superstition. _the study of sociology._ the fifth volume in the international scientific series. mo. cloth, $ . . contents: our need of it--is there a social science?--nature of the social science.--difficulties of the social science.--objective difficulties.--subjective difficulties, intellectual.--subjective difficulties, emotional.--the educational bias--the bias of patriotism.--the class-bias.--the political bias.--the theological bias.--discipline.--preparation in biology.--preparation in psychology.--conclusion. new york: d. appleton & co., , , & bond street. "this work marks an epoch in the history-writing of this country."--_st. louis post-dispatch._ [illustration: colonial court-house. philadelphia, .] _the household history of the united states and its people._ for young americans. by edward eggleston. richly illustrated with drawings, maps, etc. square vo. cloth, $ . . _from the preface._ the present work is meant, in the first instance, for the young--not alone for boys and girls, but for young men and women who have yet to make themselves familiar with the more important features of their country's history. by a book for the young is meant one in which the author studies to make his statements clear and explicit, in which curious and picturesque details are inserted, and in which the writer does not neglect such anecdotes as lend the charm of a human and personal interest to the broader facts of the nation's story. that history is often tiresome to the young is not so much the fault of history as of a false method of writing by which one contrives to relate events without sympathy or imagination, without narrative connection or animation. the attempt to master vague and general records of kiln-dried facts is certain to beget in the ordinary reader a repulsion from the study of history--one of the most important of all studies for its widening influence on general culture. [illustration: indian's trap.] "fills a decided gap which has existed for the past twenty years in american historical literature. the work is admirably planned and executed, and will at once take its place as a standard record of the life, growth, and development of the nation. it is profusely and beautifully illustrated."--_boston transcript._ "the book in its new dress makes a much finer appearance than before, and will be welcomed by older readers as gladly as its predecessor was greeted by girls and boys. the lavish use the publishers have made of colored plates, woodcuts, and photographic reproductions, gives an unwonted piquancy to the printed page, catching the eye as surely as the text engages the mind."--_new york critic._ [illustration: general putnam.] "the author writes history as a story. it can never be less than that. the book will enlist the interest of young people, enlighten their understanding, and by the glow of its statements fix the great events of the country firmly in the mind."--_san francisco bulletin._ new york: d. appleton & co., , , & bond street. proofreading team. jukes-edwards a study in education and heredity * * * * * by a.e. winship, litt.d. * * * * * harrisburg, pa.: r.l. myers & co. . to him who, more than any other, has taught us how to afford opportunity for neglected, unfortunate and wayward boys and girls to transform themselves into industrious, virtuous and upright citizens through the most remarkable institution in the land, william r. george, founder of the george junior republic, this study is dedicated. r.l. myers & co., publishers of standard helps for teachers, standard school books. send for catalogue. harrisburg, penna. preface. of all the problems which america faces on the land and on the seas, no one is so important as that of making regenerates out of degenerates. the massing of people in large cities, the incoming of vast multitudes from the impoverished masses of several european and asiatic countries, the tendency to interpret liberty as license, the contagious nature of moral, as well as of physical, diseases combine to make it of the utmost importance that american enterprise and moral force find ways and means for accomplishing this transformation. the grand results of the movement in new york city inspired by jacob riis; the fascinating benevolence of the roycroft shop in east aurora, n.y.; the marvelous transfiguration of character--i speak it reverently--at the george junior republic, freeville, n.y., added to the college settlement and kindred efforts merely indicate what may be accomplished when philanthropy supplements saying by doing, and when christianity stands for the beauty of wholeness and is satisfied with nothing less than the physical, mental and moral conversions of all classes among the masses at home as well as abroad, in the east as well as in the west. a problem is primarily something thrown at us as a challenge for us to see through it. to solve a problem is to loosen it so that it may be looked into or seen through. whatever contributes to the loosening of a problem by throwing light upon the conditions is of value in aiding in its solution, hence the publication of this study of the family of jonathan edwards as a contrast to the jukes. a.e.w. somerville, mass., _june , _. table of contents. page. the jukes, a study of jonathan edwards, the inheritance and training of mr. edwards, the children's start in life, mrs. edwards and home training, capacity, character and training, aaron burr, contrasts, timothy edwards, colonel william edwards, the mary edwards dwight family, chapter i the jukes education is something more than going to school for a few weeks each year, is more than knowing how to read and write. it has to do with character, with industry, and with patriotism. education tends to do away with vulgarity, pauperism, and crime, tends to prevent disease and disgrace, and helps to manliness, success and loyalty. ignorance leads to all those things that education tries to do away with, and it tends to do away with all the things that education tries to cultivate. it is easy to say these things, and every one knows they are true, but few realize how much such statements mean. it is not easy to take a view of such matters over a long range of time and experience. a boy that leaves school and shifts for himself by blacking boots, selling papers, and "swiping" fruit often appears much smarter than a boy of the same age who is going to school all the time and does not see so much of the world. a boy of twelve who has lived by his wits is often keener than a boy of the same age who has been well brought up at home and at school, but such a boy knows about as much and is about as much of a man at twelve as he will ever be, while the boy that gets an education becomes more and more of a man as long as he lives. but this might be said a thousand times to every truant, and it would have very little effect, because he thinks that he will be an exception. he never sees beyond his own boyish smartness. few men and women realize how true it is that these smart rascally fellows, who persist in remaining in ignorance, are to be the vicious, pauper, criminal class who are to fill the dens of vice, the poorhouses, and the prisons; who are to be burglars, highwaymen, and murderers. in place of opinions, it is well sometimes to present facts so clear and definite that they cannot be forgotten. r.a. dugdale, of new york state, began the study of "the jukes" family in , and in in the twentieth annual report of the new york prison commission he made a statement of the results.[footnote: g.p. putnam's sons, new york, reprinted this study in "the jukes."] this brief summary of "the jukes" is based upon the facts which mr. dugdale has published. "the jukes" is a name given to a large family of degenerates. it is not the real name of any family, but a general term applied to forty-two different names borne by those in whose veins flows the blood of one man. the word "jukes" means "to roost." it refers to the habit of fowls to have no home, no nest, no coop, preferring to fly into the trees and roost away from the places where they belong. the word has also come to mean people who are too indolent and lazy to stand up or sit up, but sprawl out anywhere. "the jukes" are a family that did not make good homes, did not provide themselves with comforts, did not work steadily. they are like hens that fly into the trees to roost. the father of "the jukes" mr. dugdale styled "max." he was born about of dutch stock. had he remained with his home folk in the town and been educated, and thrifty like the rest of the boys, he might have given the world a very different kind of family from "the jukes." max was a jolly good fellow and not very bad. he was popular and he could tell a good story that made everybody laugh. of course he was vulgar, such jolly good fellows are usually vulgar. he would not go to school, because he did not like it. he would not stay in evenings, for he did not like that. he did not enjoy being talked to, but always wanted to talk himself, and to talk to boys who would laugh at his yarns. he would not work for he did not like it. he wanted to go fishing, hunting, and trapping; so he left home early and took to the woods. max liked nature. he thought he was lots better than town people because he knew more about nature. he found a lovely spot on the border of a beautiful lake in new york state, where the rocks are grand, the waters lovely, the forest glorious. there was never a more charming place in which to be good and to love god than this place where max built his shanty about . but he did not go there to worship or to be good. he went simply to get away from good people, to get where he would not have to work, and where he would not be preached to, and this beautiful spot became a notorious cradle of crime. nature is lovely, but it makes all the difference in the world how we know nature and why we love it. in richard l. dugdale was employed by the new york prison commission to visit the prisons of the state. in this visit he was surprised to find criminals in six different prisons whose relatives were mostly criminals or paupers, and the more surprised to discover that these six criminals, under four different names, were all descended from the same family. this led mr. dugdale to study their relatives, living and dead. he gave himself up to this work with great zeal, studying the court and prison records, reports of town poorhouses, and the testimony of old neighbors and employers. he learned the details of descendants of max in five generations. he learned the exact facts about who married into the family. it is customary to count as of a family the men who marry into it. he traced in part others, which carried the number up to , persons of the family of the jukes. the jukes rarely married foreign-born men or women, so that it may be styled a distinctively american family. the almost universal traits of the family were idleness, ignorance, and vulgarity. they would not work, they could not be made to study, and they loved vulgarity. these characteristics led to disease and disgrace, to pauperism and crime. they were a disgustingly diseased family as a whole. there were many imbeciles and many insane. those of "the jukes" who tended to pauperism were rarely criminal, and those who were criminal were rarely paupers. the sick, the weak, and goody-goody ones were almost all paupers; the healthy, strong ones were criminals. it is a well-known fact in sociology that criminals are of three classes: first, those who direct crime, the capitalists in crime, who are rarely arrested, who seldom commit any crime, but inspire men to crime in various ways. these are intelligent and have to be educated to some extent. they profit by crime and take slight risks. second, those who commit heroic crimes and find some satisfaction in the skill and daring required. safe-breaking, train robbery, and some types of burglary require men of ability and pluck, and those who do these things have a species of pride in it. third, those who commit weak and imbecile crimes, which mark the doer as a sneak and a coward. these men rob hen roosts, waylay helpless women and old men, steal clothing in hallways, and burn buildings. they are always cowardly about everything they do, and never have the pluck to steal chickens even until they are half drunk. they often commit murder, but only when they are detected in some sneaking crime and shoot because they are too cowardly to face their discoverer. now the jukes were almost never of the first or second class. they could not be criminals that required capital, brains, education or nerve. even the kind of pauperism and crime in which they indulged was particularly disgraceful. this is inevitably true of all classes of people who combine idleness, ignorance, and vulgarity. they are not even respectable among criminals and paupers. there is an honorable pauperism. it is no disgrace to be poor or to be in a poorhouse if there is a good reason for it. one may be manly in poverty. but the jukes were never manly or honorable paupers, they were weaklings among paupers. they were a great expense to the state, costing in crime and pauperism more than $ , , . taken as a whole, they not only did not contribute to the world's prosperity, but they cost more than $ , a piece, including all men, women, and children, for pauperism and crime. those who worked did the lowest kind of service and received the smallest wages. only twenty of the , learned a trade, and ten of those learned it in the state prison. even they were not regularly employed. men who work regularly even at unskilled labor are generally honest men and provide for the family. a habit of irregular work is a species of mental or moral weakness, or both. a man or woman who will not stick to a job is morally certain to be a pauper or a criminal. one great benefit of going to school, especially of attending regularly for eight or ten months each year for nine years or more, is that it establishes a habit of regularity and persistency in effort. the boy who leaves school to go to work does not necessarily learn to work steadily, but often quite the reverse. few who graduate from a grammar school, or who take the equivalent course in a rural school, fail to be regular in their habits of effort. this accounts in part for the fact that few unskilled workmen ever graduated from a grammar school. scarcely any of the jukes were ever at school any considerable time. probably no one of them ever had so much as a completed rural school education. it is very difficult to find anyone who is honest and industrious, pure and prosperous, who has not had a fair education, if he ever had the opportunity, as all children in the united states now have. it is an interesting fact developed from a study of the jukes that it is much easier to reform a criminal than a pauper. here are a few facts by way of conclusion. on the basis of the facts gathered by mr. dugdale, of the , were professional paupers, or more than one in four. these were in poorhouses or its equivalent for , years. three hundred of the , , or one in four, died in infancy from lack of good care and good conditions. there were fifty women who lived lives of notorious debauchery. four hundred men and women were physically wrecked early by their own wickedness. there were seven murderers. sixty were habitual thieves who spent on the average twelve years each in lawless depredations. there were criminals who were convicted more or less often of crime. what a picture this presents! some slight improvement was apparent when mr. dugdale closed his studies. this resulted from evening schools, from manual training schools, from improved conditions of labor, from the later methods of treating prisoners. chapter ii a study of jonathan edwards the story of the jukes as published by mr. dugdale has been the text of a multitude of sermons, the theme of numberless addresses, the inspiration of no end of editorials and essays. for twenty years there was a call for a companion picture. every preacher, orator, and editor who presented the story of the jukes, with its abhorrent features, wanted the facts for a cheery, comforting, convincing contrast. this was not to be had for the asking. several attempts had been made to find the key to such a study without discovering a person of the required prominence, born sufficiently long ago, with the necessary vigor of intellect and strength of character who established the habit of having large families. in a professional scholarly organization--to which the author has the honor to belong--assigned to him, without his knowledge or consent, the duty of preparing an essay upon jonathan edwards for the may meeting of . the study then begun led to a search for the facts regarding his family, and when it came to light that one of jonathan edwards' descendants presided over the new york prison commission when it employed mr. dugdale to make a study of the jukes, the appropriateness of the contrast was more than ever apparent. in this study the sources of information are the various genealogies of families in which the descendants of mr. edwards play a part, various town histories and church and college publications, but chiefly the biographical dictionaries and encyclopaedias in which the records of the men of the family are chronicled. it would be impossible to follow out the positions occupied by the various members but for the pride they all feel in recording the fact that they are descendants of jonathan edwards. a good illustration of this may be had in the current announcements of the marvelously popular novel, "richard carvel," in which it is always emphasized that mr. winston churchill, the author, is a descendant of jonathan edwards. only two americans established a considerable and permanent reputation in the world of european thought prior to the present century,--benjamin franklin and jonathan edwards. in , dr. isaac watts published in england mr. edwards' account of the beginning of the great awakening in the connecticut valley. here more than a century and a half ago, when the colonies were small, their future unsuspected and the ability of their leaders unrecognized, jonathan edwards "erected the standard of orthodoxy for enlightened protestant europe." who can estimate the eloquence of that simple fact? almost everything of his which was published in the colonies was speedily republished in england. of what other american philosopher and theologian has this been true? here are a few of the tributes to mr. edwards: _daniel webster_: "the freedom of the will" by mr. edwards is the greatest achievement of the human intellect. _dr. chalmers_: the greatest of theologians. _robert hall_: he was the greatest of the sons of men. _dugald stewart_: edwards on the will never was answered and never will be answered. _encyclopaedia_: one of the greatest metaphysicians of his age. _edinburgh review_: one of the acutest and most powerful of reasoners. _london quarterly review_: his gigantic specimen of theological argument is as near to perfection as we may expect any human composition to approach. he unites the sharpness of the scimetar and the strength of the battle-axe. _westminster review_: from the days of plato there has been no life of more simple and imposing grandeur than that of jonathan edwards. _president mccosh, of princeton_: the greatest thinker that america has produced. _lyman beecher_: a prince among preachers. in our day there is no man who comes within a thousand miles of him. _griswold's prose writers_: the first man of the world during the second quarter of the eighteenth century. _hollister's history of connecticut_: the most gifted man of the eighteenth century, perhaps the most profound thinker in the world. _moses coit tyler_: the most original and acute thinker yet produced in america. this is the man whose intellectual life has thrilled in the mental activity of more than , men and women of the past century and a half, and which has not lost its virtue or its power in all these years. england and scotland are not wont to sit at our feet even in this day, and yet they sat at the feet of jonathan edwards as in the presence of a master when he was a mere home missionary, living among the indians, to whom he preached every lord's day. the birth of fame is always an interesting study. it is easy to play the part of a rocket if one can sizzle, and flash, and rise suddenly in darkness, but to take one's place among luminaries and shine with permanent brilliancy is so rare an experience as to present a fascinating study. jonathan edwards was twenty-eight years of age, had been the pastor of a church on the frontier, as northampton was, for four years without any notable experience, when he was invited to preach the annual sermon before the association of ministers at boston. never since that day have boston and harvard been more thoroughly the seat of culture and of intellectual power than then. it was a remarkable event for a young man of twenty-eight to be invited to come from the western limit of civilization and preach the annual sermon before the philosophical, theological, and scholastic masters of the east. this sermon was so powerful that the association published it. this was his first appearance in print. so profoundly moved by this effort were the churches of new england that the clergymen generally gave public thanks to the head of the church for raising up so great a teacher and preacher. thus was born the fame of jonathan edwards. it is nearly years since then. science and invention, enterprise and ambition have done great things for america and for americans. we have mighty universities, libraries, and laboratories, but we have no man who thinks more clearly, writes more logically, speaks more vigorously than did jonathan edwards, and we have never had such a combination of spirit and power in any other american. this mastery is revealing itself in various ways in hundreds of his descendants to-day, and it has never ceased to do it since his blood gave tonic to the thought and character of his children and his children's children. chapter iii the inheritance and training of mr. edwards no man can have the intellectual power, nobility of character, and personal grandeur of jonathan edwards and transmit it to his children's children for a century and a half who has not himself had a great inheritance. the whole teaching of the culture of animals and plants leaves no room to question the persistency of character, and this is so grandly exemplified in the descendants of mr. edwards that it is interesting to see what inheritances were focused in him. it is not surprising to find that the ancestors of mr. edwards were cradled in the intellectual literary activities of the days of queen elizabeth. the family is of welsh origin and can be traced as far as , when edward, the conquerer, appeared. his great-great-grandfather, richard edwards, who went from wales to london about , was a clergyman in the elizabethan period. those were days which provided tonic for the keenest spirits and brightest minds and professional men profited most from the influence of spencer, bacon, and shakespeare. among the first men to come to the new colonies in new england was william, a son of this clergyman, born about , who came to hartford, where his son richard, born , the grandfather of jonathan, was an eminently prosperous merchant. richard was an only son. the father of jonathan, timothy edwards, was an only son in a family of seven. aristocracy was at its height in the household of the merchants of hartford in the middle of the seventeenth century. harvard was america's only college, and it was a great event for a young man to go from hartford to harvard, but this timothy edwards did, and he took all attainable honors, graduating in , taking the degrees of a.b. and a.m. the same day, "an uncommon mark of respect paid extraordinary proficiency in learning." this brilliant graduate of harvard was soon settled over the church at east windsor, conn., where he remained sixty-five years as pastor. who can estimate the inheritance which comes to a child of such a pastor who had been born in a merchant's home. in the four generations which stood behind jonathan edwards were two merchants and two preachers, a grand combination for manly and intellectual power. in this pastor's home jonathan edwards was born october , . those were days in which great men came into the world. there were born within fifteen years of jonathan edwards a wonderful array of thinkers along religious and philosophic lines, men who have molded the thought and lives of a multitude of persons. among these intellectual giants born within fifteen years of mr. edwards were john wesley, george whitefield, swedenborg, voltaire, rousseau, and hume. in order to appreciate the full significance of mr. edwards' legacy to the world, it is well to study some conditions of his life. it would not be easy to find a man whose surroundings and training in childhood were better than those of jonathan edwards. the parsonage on the banks of the connecticut was a delightful home. his parents and his grandparents were ideal american christian educated persons. he was prepared for college by his father and mother. he was a devout little christian before he was twelve years of age. when he was but ten years old he, with two other lads about his own age, made a booth of branches in a retired spot in a neighboring wood, where the three went daily for a season of prayer. he began the study of latin at six and at twelve had a good preparation for college in latin, greek, and hebrew, all of which had come from home study. he not only knew books, but he knew nature and loved her. from early childhood to advanced years this remained true. he entered yale college at twelve years of age. in a letter which he wrote while a college freshman he speaks of himself as a child. not many freshmen take that view of themselves, but a lad of twelve, away from home at college could have been little more than a child. he was the fifth in a family of eleven children, so that he had no lack of companionship from both older and younger sisters. the older sisters had contributed much to his preparation for college. they were a never-failing source of inspiration. at fourteen he read in a masterly way "locke on the human understanding." it took a powerful hold on his mind and greatly affected his life. in a letter to his father he asked a special favor that he might have a copy of "the art of thinking," not because it was necessary to his college work, but because he thought it would be profitable. while still in his teens he wrote a series of "resolutions," the like of which it would be difficult to duplicate in the case of any other youth. these things are dwelt upon as indicating the way in which every fibre of his being was prepared for the great moral and intellectual legacy he left his children and his children's children. here are ten of his seventy resolutions: _resolved_, to do whatever i think to be my duty, and most for the good and advantage of mankind in general. _resolved_, so to do, whatever difficulties i meet with, how many soever, and how great soever. _resolved_, to be continually endeavoring to find out some new contrivance and invention to promote the forementioned things. _resolved_, never to lose one moment of time, but to improve it in the most profitable way i possibly can. _resolved_, to live with all my might while i do live. _resolved_, to be endeavoring to find out fit objects of charity and liberality. _resolved_, never to do anything out of revenge. _resolved_, never to suffer the least motions of anger towards irrational beings. _resolved_, never to speak evil of any one, so that it shall tend to his dishonor, more or less, upon no account except for some real good. _resolved_, to maintain the strictest temperance in eating and drinking. yale in the days of mr. edwards was not the yale of the closing year of the nineteenth century. it has now , students and has had , graduates. it had a very humble beginning in march, , the year before mr. edwards was born. it began with one lone student. the father of jonathan edwards had been greatly interested in the starting of the college. in , rev. mr. russell, of branford, a graduate of harvard, as was the senior edwards, invited to his home ten other connecticut pastors of whom nine were graduates of harvard. each brought from his library some of his most valuable books, and laying them upon mr. russell's table, said: "i give these books for the founding of a college in this colony." this produced a profound impression upon the clergymen of connecticut, notably upon the graduates of harvard. the first year the college was nominally located at saybrook, but as there was only one student he lived with the president at killingworth, now clinton, nine miles away. when jonathan edwards, a lad of twelve, entered college, there had been, all told, only about fifty graduates. it was during the time that he was a student that the college took the name of yale. the first year he was there the college was in three places at the same time because of dissensions among the students, and the very small class graduated in two places because neither faction would go to the other place. in all these agitations mr. edwards took no part. he simply devoted himself to his studies and followed the line of least resistance so far as taking sides in a senseless controversy was concerned. after graduation he remained at yale two years for post-graduate work, mostly in theology, and then accepted an invitation to preach for the leading presbyterian church in new york city; but after eight months he returned to yale as a tutor and remained two years. at this time he was very severe in discipline, bending every energy to securing the right conditions for the most and best work. this is what he wrote in his diary when he was twenty-one: "by a sparingness in diet, and eating, as much as may be, what is light and easy of digestion, i shall doubtless be able to think more clearly, and shall gain time: . by lengthening out my life. . shall need less time for digestion after meals. . shall be able to study more closely, without injury to my health. . shall need less time for sleep. . shall more seldom be troubled with the headache." mr. edwards was twenty-three years of age when he was ordained at northampton as associate pastor with his grandfather stoddard, then in his th year, and the th year of his pastorate. soon after this mr. stoddard died and mr. edwards became pastor in full charge and remained for twenty-five years. he was a great student and thinker. he rose at four o'clock and spent thirteen hours a day in his study. it is worth while to follow the personal intellectual habits of the man whose descendants we are to study. when he was ready for the consideration of a great subject he would set apart a week for it and mounting his horse early monday morning would start off for the hills and forests. when he had thought himself up to a satisfactory intensity he would alight, fasten his horse, go off into the woods and think himself through that particular stage of the argument, then he would pin a bit of paper on some particular place on his coat as a reminder of the conclusion he had reached. he would then ride on some miles further and repeat the experience. not infrequently he would be gone the entire week on a thinking expedition, returning with the front of his coat covered with the scalps of intellectual victories. without stopping for any domestic salutations he would go at once to his study and taking off these bits of paper in the same order in which he had put them on would carefully write out his argument. in nothing did jonathan edwards stand out so clearly as boy, youth and man as in his sacrifice of every other feature of his life for the attainment of power as a thinker. mr. edwards has gone into history as a theologian of the most stalwart character. it is undeniable that he preached the most terrific doctrine ever uttered by an american leader, but this was only the logical result of the intellectual projection of his effort to make sacrifices in order to benefit humanity. as a child he sacrificed everything for health and virtue that he might have influence, and as a man he knew no other plan or purpose in life. his masterpiece is upon the "will" which he developed to the full in himself. the greatest religious awakening that the western world has ever known was started in his church at northampton, not over ecclesiastical differences, or theological discussion but over a question of morality among the young people of the town. it had to do with the impropriety of the young ladies entertaining their gentlemen friends on sunday evenings and especially of their allowing them to remain to such unreasonable hours. and the issue which ultimately drove him from his pastorate, after twenty-five years of service, by an almost unanimous vote was not one of ecclesiasticism or theology, but of morals among the young people. he insisted upon vigorous action in relation to the loose and as he thought immoral reading of the youth of the town. as this involved some prominent families he had to retire from the pastorate. the views of mr. edwards on pastoral work reveal the singleness of purpose of the man as a student and thinker. he never made pastoral calls. he had no criticism to make of those pastors who had talent for entertaining people by occasional calls, but as he had no gifts in that direction he regarded it advisable to use his time in cultivating such talents as he had. whoever wished to talk with him about personal, moral or religious conditions found in him a profitable counsellor. in his preaching, which was equal to anything america has ever known, he made no attempt to win his hearers by tricks of oratory or by emotional appeals, though he had a most fascinating personality. he was six feet in height, slender in form, with a high, broad forehead, eyes piercing and luminous and a serene countenance. in the pulpit he was graceful, easy, natural and earnest, though he had little action. he rested his left elbow on the pulpit and held his manuscript in his left hand while with his right he turned the leaves. in him were combined the intellectual and moral vigor which are calculated to make the progenitor of a great family. chapter iv the children's start in life the eleven children of jonathan edwards had an unenviable start in life so far as their environment was concerned. the oldest was still in her teens when serious trouble arose in the parish at northampton. mr. edwards was pastor at northampton for twenty-five years, and a more fruitful pastorate or a more glorious ministerial career for a quarter of a century no man could ask. he made that church on the frontier the largest protestant church in the world, and it was the most influential as well as the best known. there began the greatest religious awakening of modern times. in his church, resulting from his preaching, began a revival which stirred into activity every church in massachusetts, every church in the colonies, and most of the protestant churches of great britain and europe. after this long and eminently successful pastorate, mr. edwards preached a sermon about the reading and conversation of young people upon subjects of questionable propriety, which led to such local excitement that upon the recommendation of an ecclesiastical council he was dismissed by a vote of to , and the town voted that he be not permitted on any occasion to preach or lecture in the church. mr. edwards was wholly unprepared financially for this unusual ecclesiastical and civic action. he had no other means of earning a living, so that, until donations began to come in from far and near, mrs. edwards, at the age of forty, the mother of eleven children with the youngest less than a year old, was obliged to take in work for the support of the family. after a little time mr. edwards secured a small mission charge in an indian village where there were twelve white and indian families. here he remained eight years in quiet until, a few weeks before his death, he was called to the presidency and pastorate of princeton, then a young and small college. the last four years of their life at northampton were indescribably trying to the children. human nature was the same then as now, and everyone knows how heavily the public dislike of a prominent man bears upon his children. the conventionalities which keep adults within bound in speech and action are unknown to children, and what the parents say behind a clergyman's back, children say to his children's face. this period of childhood social horror ended only by removal to a missionary parsonage among the stockbridge indians, where they lived for eight years. their playmates were indian children and youth. half the children of the family talked the indian language as well and almost as much as they did the english language. in the years of aspiration these children were away from all society life and educational institutions, in the home of a poor missionary family among indians when indian wars were a reality. when mr. edwards accepted gratefully this mission church his oldest child, a daughter, was twenty-two, his youngest son was less than a year old. all of the boys and three of the girls were under twelve years of age when they went to the indian village, and all but one were under twenty. when their missionary home was broken up five of them were still under twenty, so that the children's inheritance was not of wealth, of literary or scholastic environment, or of cultured or advantageous society. everything tends to show how completely mr. edwards' sons and daughters were left to develop and improve their inheritance of intellectual, moral, and religious aspiration. in these years mr. edwards was writing the works which will make him famous for centuries. one of the daughters married rev. aaron burr, the president of princeton, then a very small institution. upon the death of this son-in-law, mr. edwards was chosen to succeed him, but while at princeton, before he had fairly entered upon his duties at the college, he died of smallpox. his widowed daughter, who cared for him, died a few days later leaving two children, and his widow, who came for the grandchildren, soon followed the husband and daughter to the better land. mr. edwards died at fifty-six, and his widow a few weeks later. both died away from home, for the family was still among the stockbridge indians. the oldest son was but twenty, and there were five children younger than he. the youngest son was eight and the other only thirteen. to make the picture more clear it must be understood that to these six orphans, under twenty-one, there came at the time of their father's and mother's deaths two little orphans aged four and two respectively, sarah burr and her brother aaron. here was a large family from which father and mother, older sister and brother-in-law had been taken almost at a single blow, with two extra orphans to care for. and with all this there was no adequate financial inheritance. the inventory of jonathan edwards' property is interesting. among the live stock, which included horses and cows, was a slave upon whom a moderate value was placed. the slave was named titus, and he was rated under "quick stock" and not "live stock," at a value of $ . the silver was inventoried as a tankard valued at $ , a can and porringer at $ , and various other articles valued at $ . the chief material legacy was his library, which was inventoried as consisting of volumes, pamphlets, forty-eight maps, thirty unpublished manuscripts and , manuscript sermons prepared for the printer. it was valued at $ . if jonathan edwards did not leave a large financial legacy, he did impart to his children an intellectual capacity and vigor, moral character, and devotion to training which have projected themselves through eight generations without losing the strength and force of their great ancestor. of the three sons and eight daughters of jonathan edwards there was not one, nor a husband or wife of one, whose character and ability, whose purpose and achievement were not a credit to this godly man. of the seventy-five grandchildren, with their husbands and wives, there was but one for whom an apology may be offered, and nearly every one was exceptionally strong in scholarship and moral force. we have paused long enough on the threshold of the descendants of jonathan edwards. we have seen the estimate in which he was held by his contemporaries at home and abroad, and by close students of the history of his times. we have seen what he inherited and by what training and in what environment he was developed. we have also seen the terrible strain to which his children were subjected in childhood from lack of school privileges and pleasing social conditions. it remains to be seen what kind of men and women these children became with childhood disadvantages, but with a grand inheritance and the best of home training. remember the size, ages, and financial condition of the family when the father died--the sons being aged eight, thirteen and twenty--and then consider the fact that the three sons graduated from princeton, and five of the daughters married college graduates, three of them of yale and one each of harvard and princeton. a man might well be content to die without lands or gold when eight sons and sons-in-laws were to be men of such capacity, character, and training as are found in this family. they were not merely college graduates, but they were eminent men. one held the position of president of princeton and one of union college, four were judges, two were members of the continental congress, one was a member of the governor's council in massachusetts, one was a member of the massachusetts war commission in the revolutionary war, one was a state senator, one was president of the connecticut house of representatives, three were officers in the revolutionary war, one was a member of the famous constitutional convention out of which the united states was born, one was an eminent divine and pastor of the historic north church of new haven, and one was the first grand master of the grand lodge of masons in connecticut. this by no means exhausts the useful and honorable official positions occupied by the eight sons and sons-in-law of jonathan edwards, and it makes no account of their writings, of noted trials that they conducted, but it gives some hint of the pace which mr. edwards' children set for the succeeding generations. it should be said that the daughters were every way worthy of distinguished husbands, and it ought also to be said that the wives of the sons were worthy of these men in intellectual force and moral qualities. contrast this group of sixteen men and women with the five sons of max and the women with whom they lived. in this group there was not a strain of industry, virtue, or scholarship. they were licentious, ignorant, profane, lacking ambition to keep them out of poverty and crime. they drifted into whatever it was easiest to do or to be. midday and midnight, heaven and its opposite, present no sharper contrasts than the children and the children-in-law of jonathan edwards and of max. the two men were born in rural communities, they both lived on the frontier; but the one was born in a christian home, was the son of a clergyman, of a highly educated man who took the highest honors harvard could give, was himself highly educated in home, school, and at yale college, always associated with pure-minded, earnest persons, and devoted his thought and activity to benefiting mankind. max was the opposite of all this. there is no knowledge of his childhood or of his parentage. he was not bad, as bad men go; he was jolly, could tell a good story, though they were always off color, could trap unwary animals skillfully, was a fairly good shot; but no one was the better for anything that he ever said, thought, or did. jollity, shiftlessness, and lack of purpose in one man have given to the world a family of , , mostly paupers and criminals; while mr. edwards, who never amused any one, who was always chaste, earnest, and noble, has given to the world a family of more than , of the world's noblemen, who have magnified strength and beauty all over the land, illustrating grandly these beautiful lines of lowell: "be noble! and the nobleness that lies in other men, sleeping, but never dead, will rise in majesty to meet thine own." chapter v mrs. edwards and home training much of the capacity and talent, intensity and character of the more than , of the edwards family is due to mrs. edwards. none of the brothers or sisters of jonathan edwards had families with any such marvelous record as his, and to his wife belongs not a little of the credit. at the age of twenty-four mr. edwards was married to sarah pierrpont, aged seventeen. she had an inheritance even more refined and vigorous than that of mr. edwards. she was descended on her father's side from the choicest of the pierrpont family of england and new england. her father was one of the most famous of new haven clergymen, one of the principal founders, and a trustee and lecturer of yale college. on her mother's side she was a granddaughter of rev. thomas hooker, of hartford, "the father of the connecticut churches," and one of the grand men in early american history. personally, she was so beautiful and so noble-minded that at the age of thirteen she was known far and near for her christian character and exceptional ability. while she was still but thirteen and mr. edwards twenty, he wrote in a purely disinterested way of the remarkable girl: "she is of a wonderful sweetness, calmness, and universal benevolence of mind. she will sometimes go about from place to place singing sweetly; and seems to be always full of joy and pleasure; and no one knows for what." mr. edwards was desirious of being married when he went to northampton as associate pastor with his grandfather, dr. stoddard. miss pierrpont was only sixteen years of age, and she declined to be married until she was seventeen. he insisted, but she persisted in her refusal. mrs. edwards lived in her children. to her husband came honor and glory in his lifetime, but to her came denial, toil and care. at eighteen, this young, beautiful, brilliant wife became a mother, and until she was forty, there was never a period of two years in which a child was not born to them, and no one of the eleven children died until after the last child was born. it was a home of little children. her husband had no care for the household and she wished him to have none. it was her insistence that he should have thirteen hours of every twenty-four for his study. whatever may have been the contribution of mr. edwards to the inheritance of the family, they owed the charming environment of the home to their mother. this was a delightful home, as many persons have testified who knew it. i saw recently the diary of the famous george whitefield, where he wrote that he sometimes wondered if it was not the lord's will that he should marry, that he might thereby be more useful, and that if it was the lord's will that he should marry, he wished to be reconciled thereto, but he did hope that the lord would send him as a wife such a woman as mrs. edwards, whom he considered the most beautiful and noble wife for a christian minister that he had ever known. if there be a more charming tribute to woman than this, i have not seen it. in view of the character of her children and their great success in life, it may be interesting to know how she brought up the children, of whom there were so many, and for which the schools did so little. this is the testimony of one who knew of her home life well: "she had an excellent way of governing her children; she knew how to make them regard and obey her cheerfully. she seldom punished them, and in speaking to them used gentle and pleasant words. when she had occasion to reprove or rebuke, she would do it in a few words, without warmth and noise, and with all calmness and gentleness of mind. in her directions and reproofs of matters of importance, she would address herself to the reason of her children, that they might not only know her inclination and will, but at the same time be convinced of the reasonableness of it. she had need to speak but once and she was obeyed; murmuring and answering again were not known among them. in their manners they were uncommonly respectful to their parents. when their parents came into the room, they all rose instinctively from their seats and never resumed them until their parents were seated; and when either parent was speaking, no matter with whom they had been conversing, they were all immediately silent. "quarreling and contention were in her family wholly unknown. she carefully observed the first appearance of resentment and ill-will in her young children towards any person whatever, and did not connive at it, but was careful to show her displeasure, and suppress it to the utmost; yet not by angry, wrathful words. "her system of discipline began at a very early age, and it was her rule to resist the first, as well as every subsequent exhibition of temper or disobedience in the child, however young, until its will was brought into submission to the will of the parents." it is needless to say that all this added materially to the good inheritance of the children. chapter vi capacity, character and training in view of what has been learned regarding jonathan edwards, his ancestors and his children, his grandchildren might have found some excuse for presuming upon the capacity and character which they inherited. in their veins was the blood of famous lines of noble men and women; the blood of edwards, stoddard, pierrpont, and hooker was thrilling in their thought and intensifying their character. they had inherited capacity and character at their best, but they did not presume upon it. if ever inheritance would justify indifference to training, it was in the case of the grandchildren of jonathan edwards, but they were far from indifferent to their responsibility. it must be understood that the "family of jonathan edwards" includes not only his descendants, but the men who married into the family and whose children became descendants of mr. edwards. at first this may not seem the proper interpretation, but there is no other that is legitimate. in the case of the "jukes" mr. dugdale includes in the family both the men and the women who married into the family, but in the case of mr. edwards there is no call to include the women who thus came into the family, and it would have magnified the study needlessly. until quite recently there has been no way to discover the standing of married women in american life except as we know the social, scholastic, and professional position of their husbands. in most families a son-in-law becomes a representative factor of a family. therefore, whenever the "edwards family" is spoken of it includes the sons-in-law, but it does not include the daughters-in-law, nor does it go beyond jonathan edwards to include his brothers and sisters or their descendants. the "jukes" had no inherited capacity or training upon which they could safely presume. their only chance lay in nursing every germ of hope by means of industry and education, through the discipline of the shop, the training of the schools, and the inspiration of the church. did they appreciate this? far from it. instead of developing capacity by training, not one of the , secured even a moderate education, and only twenty of them ever had a trade, and ten of these learned it in the state prison. on the other hand, although the edwards family inherited abundant capacity and character, every child has been educated from early childhood. not all of the college members of the family have been discovered, and yet among the men alone i have found graduates and a surprisingly large number of these have supplemented the college course with post-graduate or professional study. just as the "jukes" have intensified their degeneracy by neglect, the edwards family has magnified capacity and character by industry and education. among the college graduates of the edwards family there are thirteen presidents of colleges and other higher institutions of learning, sixty-five professors of colleges, and many principals of important academies and seminaries. forty-five american and foreign colleges and universities have this family among the alumni. from this family have come presidents for yale, princeton, union, hamilton, amherst, the university of california, the university of tennessee, the famous litchfield (conn.) law school, the columbia law school, and andover theological seminary. among these are such men as president timothy dwight, yale, - ; theodore dwight woolsey, yale, - ; timothy dwight, yale, - ; jonathan edwards (jr.), union, - ; daniel c. gilman, johns hopkins; merrill e. gates, amherst; and edwards a. park, andover. chapter vii aaron burr undoubtedly some readers are already impatient at the delay in dealing with aaron burr. there was a time when it was the fashion to refer to colonel burr as sufficiently infamous to prove that heredity was of no appreciable value. as a matter of fact it is rather refreshing to have one upon whom the imagination can play. it simply intensifies the white light of the rest of the record. colonel burr was not a saint after the model presented by his father, the rev. dr. aaron burr, the godly president of princeton; by his grandfather, jonathan edwards; or by at least , of the other members of the family of mr. edwards. there is no purpose to give him saintly enthronement, but it may not be amiss to suggest that the abuse of him has been overdone. colonel aaron burr died at eighty after thirty years of the worst treatment ever meted out to a man against whom the bitterest enemies and the most brilliant legal talent could bring no charge that would stand in the eyes of the law. i have no purpose to lessen the verdict of prejudice, for the study of the edwards family is all the more fascinating because of one such meteor of error. it must be confessed, however, that a study of the last thirty years of colonel burr's life makes one more exasperated with human nature under a political whip than with colonel burr's mistake. at forty-nine aaron burr was one of the most brilliant, most admired, and beloved men in the united states. for thirty years his had been a career with few american parallels. he had but one real and intense enemy, and that man had hated him all those years. alexander hamilton had never missed an opportunity to vilify mr. burr, and his attack had never been resented. calmly had aaron burr pursued his upward and onward course, simply smiling at the vituperation of hamilton. could those two men have agreed, they would have been the greatest leaders any nation ever had. their hatred was as expensive as was that of blaine and conklin in after years. every age must have a political scapegoat, one upon whose head is placed symbolically the sins of the period, and after he is sent into the wilderness of obscurity it becomes a social and political crime to befriend him. there have been several such in our country's history, and there will be others. aaron burr suffered more than any other simply because the glory from which he departed was greater. on march , , aaron burr, vice-president of the united states, and president of the senate, retired from the chair two days before his term expired. he made a farewell address, which produced a greater impression upon that body than any other words ever spoken there. every senator was weeping, and for a long time no one could leave his seat or propose any business. it was a sight for the nation to look upon and wonder. for fourteen years he had been one of the most conspicuous members of that body. aaron burr's ultimate ruin was wrought by his colonization experiment in louisiana. in popular opinion, there was something traitorous in that unsuccessful venture of his. in mr. burr paid $ , for , acres of land which had been purchased of spain in , before it passed to france and then to the united states in . of the motive of colonel burr we must always be ignorant; that he was not guilty of any crime in connection therewith we are certain, for the highest tribunal of the land acquitted him. president jefferson and the entire political force of the administration were bent upon his conviction, but chief justice marshall, as capable, honorable, and incorruptible a jurist as the country has known, would not have it so. unfortunately, the brilliant arraignment by william wirt was printed and read for half a century, while the calm rulings of chief justice marshall never went beyond the court room. why did a man of his capabilities, upon retirement from the vice-presidency, attempt, at fifty years of age to start life anew under such unpromising conditions? because he was suddenly politically and professionally ruined. ruined because he had killed alexander hamilton in a duel. why did he do it? it is a long story. to make it intelligent, his life must be reviewed. after a brilliant military career, which began when he was nineteen and left him an heroic colonel, he studied law and practiced in albany. at the age of twenty-eight he was a leader in the new york legislature, and was chairman of the most important committees, always with the people, against the aristocracy--an unpardonable mistake in those times. at thirty-four he was attorney-general of the state, and his great decisions were accepted by all other states. at thirty-four he established the manhattan bank of new york city. he was the only man with the ability or courage to find a way to establish a bank for the people, and the solidity of that institution for a hundred years is an all-sufficient vindication of his plan. at thirty-five he was appointed and confirmed as a supreme court judge of new york state, but he declined the honor, and was the same year elected to the united states senate. he was re-elected, serving in all fourteen years. at the second presidential election senator burr received one vote in the electoral college, at the third he received thirty, and in the fourth received seventy-three. jefferson also received seventy-three and the election was thrown into the house. this was in and mr. burr was forty-years of age. the choice lay with new york, which could be carried by no man but aaron burr. alexander hamilton was the leader of the federalists. he also was of new york. it was a battle of the giants. these two men measured swords. the presidency of the united states was the prize both parties--the federalists and the democrats--were seeking. new york had always been with the federalists. in this great struggle it went against hamilton and for burr. this ended the political career of hamilton, and would have done so had he lived longer. he was one of america's greatest statesmen, but one of the poorest politicians. no one could get along with him but washington, and when he died the political end of hamilton came. jefferson and burr each received seventy-three votes for president, and adams received sixty-five. new york had twelve votes, so that if she had remained with the federalist candidate adams, he would have won, seventy-seven to sixty-one. this defeat angered hamilton beyond endurance. he and burr had been deadly rivals for thirty years, first for the love of woman, then for military preferment, and later in the political arena. when burr established the manhattan bank, hamilton's brother-in-law, inspired by hamilton, attacked burr's motive, with the result of a duel in which neither was harmed. notwithstanding hamilton's greatness, he was always in trouble with men and women. he never ceased his abuse of burr, whose election as senator angered him. later, when burr was the choice of congress as minister to paris, backed especially by madison and monroe, hamilton succeeded in compassing his defeat. again, when adams had decided upon some important appointment for burr, hamilton succeeded in defeating him. this made burr's promotion to the vice-presidency and his own downfall the more exasperating to hamilton. four years passed. burr won high honor as president of the senate, and the party nominated him for governor of new york with practical unanimity. this was too much for hamilton, who had nothing to lose by indulging his enmity to the full. the campaign against burr was one of the basest on record. it was one of vilification. being vice-president, he was at a disadvantage when it came to conducting the campaign, and he was defeated. there were many features of this campaign that were peculiarly annoying to burr, and for the second time in his life he resorted to the duel, and hamilton was killed. had burr died in that hour, history would have a different place for him as well as for hamilton, but in his death hamilton was glorified. the most preposterous stories, such as his firing into the air, were invented and believed. the time and the conditions were as bad as they could be for burr. the north never condoned a duel that ended fatally, and then less than ever. i have no word of apology to offer for the duel. it was weakness, as it always is, and from it came all the ills that befell aaron burr. censure him all you choose, and then look at the conditions of his childhood and wonder that he lived to fifty years of age before the lack of early care brought forth its fruit. aaron burr received as good an intellectual and moral legacy as any one of the , of the edwards family. his father and mother, grandfather and grandmother would have given him as good an environment and training as any one of them enjoyed, but--his father died before he was two years old, and his mother, grandfather, and grandmother died when he was two years old, and he and his sister, four years old, went to live with his oldest uncle, timothy edwards, who was only twenty. this uncle was also bringing up two younger brothers aged eight and thirteen, and three young sisters. while timothy edwards made an eminently worthy citizen and reared a family of noble sons and daughters, he was not prepared at nineteen to support so many younger children and give a two-year-old boy the attention that he needed. at twelve years of age aaron burr went to college, and after this time he never had even the apology of a home, indeed he never had a home such as his nature demanded. there are three pictures of the child which satisfy me that the right training would have enabled aaron burr to go into history as the noblest roman of them all. at four years of age he was at school, where the treatment was so severe that he ran away from school and home and could not be found for three days. at seven years of age he was up in a cherry tree when a very prim and disagreeable spinster came to call, and he indulged in the childish luxury of throwing cherries at her. she sought "uncle timothy," who took the seven-year-old child into the house, gave him a long and severe lecture, offered a long prayer of warning, and then "licked me like a sack." at ten years of age he ran away from the severity of his uncle, and went to new york and shipped as cabin boy. his uncle followed him, and when the little fellow saw him he went to the top of the masthead and refused to come down until his uncle agreed not to punish him. it is easy to see that his uncle aroused in him all the characteristics that should have been calmed, and gave him none of that care which father or mother would have provided him. at twelve he entered princeton, and graduated with honors at sixteen. college life had its temptations, but he conducted himself with unusual decorum, and upon graduation went to study with an eminent clergyman. apparently he expected to enter the ministry, but the theology of dr. bellamy did not commend itself to him, and even less did the spirit with which the theologian met his queries, so that for the remaining sixty odd years of life he would not talk about theology. here was a brilliant lad, fresh from college, with the inheritance of burr and edwards, who might have been led into a glorious career, but was instead repelled, and went back to his uncle's home, with no profession and no plan for life, with no one to advise him. the battle of bunker hill aroused burr to patriotic purpose, and, though but nineteen, he started for cambridge to enlist. he was stricken with fever, however, and before he was recovered he heard of arnold's proposed expedition to quebec, and, though he had better be in bed, he took his musket and walked to newburyport, miles, in season to ship with the troops. two men were there ahead of him awaiting his arrival with instructions from his uncle to bring him back to new jersey. this was too much for young burr, who did not recognize the right of his uncle to interfere, and he expressed his mind so vigorously as to command the admiration of the soldiers and arouse the fears of the two messengers, who returned without him. this was the last of his uncle's interference. who that reads of the childhood life of this orphan can wonder that he lacked patience under the severe reverse of political fortune at fifty years of age? that he is the one illustrious exception among the , need cause no surprise. chapter viii contrasts it has already been emphasized that the jukes always mingled blood of their own quality in their descendants, and that the edwards family has invariably chosen blood of the same general tone and force. who can think for a moment that the jukes would have remained on so low a level if the edwards blood had been mixed with theirs, or that the edwards would have retained their intellectual supremacy if they had married into the jukes. the fact is that in years the jukes never did mingle first-class blood with their own, and the edwards family has not in years degenerated through marriage. it is pre-eminently true that a mighty intellectual and moral force does plough the channel of its thought and character through many generations. it would be well for any doubter to study the records of thoroughbreds in the animal world. the highest record ever made for milk and butter was by an animal of no family, and she was valuable only for what she could earn. none of her power went to her offspring. she was simply a high-toned freak, but an animal with a clean pedigree back to some great progenitor is valuable independently of individual earning qualities. no more would any one claim that the jukes would not have been immensely improved by education and environment, or that the edwards family could have maintained its record without education, training, and environment. the facts show that the jukes first, last, and all the time neglected these advantages, and that the edwards family, with all its intermarrying, has never neglected them. the jukes were notorious law breakers, while the edwards family has furnished practically no lawbreakers, and a great array of more than lawyers, thirty judges, and the most eminent law professor probably in the country. james bryce in his comments upon america places one of this family at the head of legal learning on this continent. this was theodore william dwight, ll.d., born in new haven, july , ; graduated from hamilton college, ; professor there - . in he went to columbia college, organized the law school and was its president for thirty-three years. some of the most eminent official city attorneys of philadelphia, new york and chicago have been found in this family. ex-governor hoadley, of ohio, a descendant of jonathan edwards, is now the head of perhaps the leading law firm of new york city or of the country. when one studies the legal side of the family it seems as though they were instinctively and chiefly lawyers and judges. it simply means that whatever the edwards family has done it has done ably and nobly. there is no greater test of intellectual majesty than that which the practice of law puts upon a man. when james bryce pays his grand tribute to dr. theodore w. dwight, president of columbia college law school, it signifies more intellectually than to have said that he was president of the united states. none of the jukes had the equivalent of a common school education, while there are few of the edwards family that have not had more than that. few were satisfied with less than academy or seminary if they did not go to college. there is not a leading college in the country in which their names are not to be found recorded. they have not only furnished thirteen college presidents and a hundred and more professors, but they have founded many important academies and seminaries in new haven and brooklyn, all through the new england states, and in the middle, western, and southern states. they have contributed liberally to college endowments. one gave a quarter of a million as an endowment for yale. in yale alone have been more than graduates. among these are nearly twenty dwights, nearly as many edwards, seven woolseys, eight porters, five johnsons, four ingersolls, and several of most of the following names: chapin, winthrop, shoemaker, hoadley, lewis, mathers, reeve, rowland, carmalt, devereaux, weston, heermance, whitney, blake, collier, scarborough, yardley, gilman, raymond, wood, morgan, bacon, ward, foote, cornelius, shepards, bristed, wickerham, doubleday, van volkenberg, robbins, tyler, miller, lyman, pierpont, and churchill, the author of "richard carvel," is a recent graduate. in amherst at one time there were of this family president gates and professors mather, tyler, and todd. wherever found they are leaders even in college faculties. those who know what gates, mather, tyler, and todd have stood for as president and professors of amherst will appreciate what jonathan edwards' blood has done for this college. of the jukes, were more or less viciously diseased. the edwards family was healthy and long lived. of the eleven children of mr. and mrs. edwards, four lived to be more than seventy years of age,--seventy-three, seventy-five, seventy-seven and seventy-nine,--and three others were fifty, fifty-six, and sixty-three. only one died unmarried, none died in childhood. the record for health and longevity continues through every generation. they have also done much to alleviate the sufferings of mankind. there have been sixty physicians, all marked men. dr. richard smith dewey was an eminent surgeon in the franco-prussian war, having charge of the prussian hospital at hesse cassel. dr. sereno edwards dwight was a physician and surgeon in the british regular army. the physicians of the family have had important connection with insane asylums and hospitals. the legislative action of new york, by which the first insane asylum of the state was built, was largely the result of a physician of this family. the medical superintendent of the illinois state insane asylum was another of the family. eminent names in the medical annals of san francisco, chicago, detroit, new york, boston, and other cities can be traced to jonathan edwards. the jukes neglected all religious privileges, defied and antagonized the church and all that it stands for, while the edwards family has more than a clergymen, missionaries, and theological professors, many of the most eminent in the country's history. america has had no more brilliant preachers and theologians than some of those that bear the names of edwards, dwight, woolsey, park, ingersoll. there have been no more noted missionaries than this family has sent for faithful and successful work in asia minor, india, africa, china, hawaii, and the south sea islands. dwight's famous five volumes on theology are a product of a worthy descendant of jonathan edwards. edwards a. park, the longtime head of andover theological seminary, whose vigor of thought, keenness of logic, and pulpit power are unsurpassed, was a descendant of mr. edwards. the family has furnished several army chaplains and one eminent chaplain of the united states senate. they have made many churches prominent for the vigor of their pulpit utterances. the famous second church, portland, park street church of boston, and many in new haven and other connecticut cities and towns as well as many churches in the middle and western states owe much to the descendants of mr. edwards. not one of the jukes was ever elected to a public office, while more than eighty of the family of jonathan edwards have been especially honored. legislatures in all sections of the country, governor's councils, state treasuries, and other elective offices have been filled by these men. they have been mayors of new haven, cleveland, and troy; governors of connecticut, ohio, and south carolina; they have been prominent in the continental congress, in the constitutional conventions of massachusetts, connecticut, new york, ohio, illinois, and wisconsin. they have represented the united states at several foreign courts; several have been members of congress; three have been united states senators, and one vice-president of the united states. the jukes lacked the physical and moral courage, as well as the patriotic purpose, to enlist, but there were seventy-five officers in the army and navy from the family of mr. edwards. this family has been prominent as officers, chaplains, or surgeons, in the army and navy in the three great wars. in the civil war they were at shiloh, new orleans, and with the red river expedition, at fort fisher and newbern, at big bethel, antietam, and gettysburg, on lookout mountain with hooker, with sheridan in the shenandoah, and were on the march to the sea with sherman. one spinster of the family residing in detroit expressed much regret that she had no husband. the reason she gave, however, was highly complimentary to the sterner sex,--because she had no husband to send to the civil war. having none, she paid the regulation bounty and had a man in the service of her country for three years in lieu of the husband she would have sent if she had had one. the jukes were as far removed as possible from literature. they not only never created any, but they never read anything that could by any stretch of the imagination be styled good reading. in the edwards family some sixty have attained prominence in authorship or editorial life. "richard carvel," is by mr. winston churchill, a descendant of mr. edwards, and i have found books of merit written by the family. eighteen considerable journals and periodicals have been edited and several important ones founded by the edwards family. the jukes did not wander far from the haunts of max. they stagnated like the motionless pool, while the edwards family is a prominent factor in the mercantile, industrial, and professional life of thirty-three states of the union and in several foreign countries, in ninety-two american and many foreign cities. they have been pre-eminently directors of men. the pacific steamship line and fifteen american railway systems have had as president, superintendent, or otherwise active in the management one of this family. many large banks, banking houses, and insurance companies have been directed by them. they have been owners or superintendents of large coal mines in pennsylvania and west virginia, of large iron plants and vast oil interests in pennsylvania, and of silver mines in nevada. there is scarcely any great american industry that has not had one of this family among its chief promoters. eli whitney of cotton-gin fame married a granddaughter of jonathan edwards. prison reform has found its leading advocates in this family. wilberforce's best american friend was of this fold, and garibaldi valued one of the family above all other american supporters. whatever the jukes stand for, the edwards family does not. whatever weakness the jukes represent finds its antidote in the edwards family, which has cost the country nothing in pauperism, in crime, in hospital or asylum service. on the contrary, it represents the highest usefulness in invention, manufacture, commerce, founding of asylums and hospitals, establishing and developing missions, projecting and energizing the best philanthropies. chapter ix timothy edwards to make more clear, if possible, the persistence of intellectual activity and moral virtue, let us study samples of the family. take for instance the eldest son, timothy. he was a member of and leader in the famous massachusetts council of war in the revolution, a colonel in the militia, and a judge. his descendants have been leaders in binghamton, pittsburg, indianapolis, bangor, st. louis, northampton, new bedford, san francisco, new york, new haven, and many other cities and towns in new england, new york, pennsylvania, west virginia, and ohio. from his descendants a connecticut town, chaplin, is named; newark, ohio, had a long-time principal, jonathan e. chaplin; andover theological seminary had one of its most famous treasurers, samuel farrar; the american board of missions had one of its grandest leaders and secretaries, dr. elias cornelius; the american baptist missionary union had one of its eminent secretaries, dr. solomon peck; the american missionary association had as its great treasurer, w.e. whiting; the famous young ladies' seminary of lenox, mass., had for thirty years its great principal, elizabeth sedgwick; boston had a prominent lawyer, a graduate of harvard, william minot; st. louis had a leading lawyer, william d. sedgwick; antietam had in the list of killed the gallant major sedgwick; san francisco recorded among her distinguished sons the long-time superintendent of the pacific mail steamship company; the united states navy counted as one of her able officers a surgeon, dr. george hopkins; amherst had as her most famous instructor professor w.s. tyler, d.d., ll.d., at the head of the greek department for half a century; she also has the present brilliant professor of biology, john m. tyler; sheridan had as a brilliant colonel in the grand ride of the shenandoah colonel m.w. tyler; invention claims the discoverer of the turbine wheel, w.w. tyler; knox college has claimed as a leader at one time, as has smith at another, professor henry h. tyler. a detailed study of the family of the eldest son is suggestive. he was the sixth child, born in northampton, , when the father was thirty-five and the mother twenty-eight. he was but twenty years old when the father and mother died and the care of the family devolved upon him. he had graduated from princeton the previous year but the responsibility of a large family prevented his entering upon professional life. two years after the death of his father he married and removed to elizabethtown, n.j., where he resided for ten years. in he returned to stockbridge, mass. berkshire county was still on the frontier and was sparsely settled. the store which mr. edwards opened in was the first in the county. the settlers raised wheat on the newly cleared land. this mr. edwards bought and sent to new york, bringing back goods in return. in five years he became the most prosperous man in the county, buying and clearing a very large farm on which he employed as many as fifty men in the busy season. the outbreak of the revolutionary struggle was a most inopportune time for timothy edwards; but for that he would have become one of the wealthiest men of his day. all business was suspended and he gave himself to his country's cause with intense devotion. he was at once appointed on a commission with general schuyler to treat with the indians; was appointed commissary to look after the supply of the army with provisions. from to he was a leader in the legislature of massachusetts; was elected to the continental congress with john hancock and john adams; was a colonel in the massachusetts militia and a judge of probate. when the war broke out timothy edwards was worth $ , , which he had accumulated in addition to all his other burdens. when the war closed he had nothing, and was $ , in debt to new york merchants. to understand what sacrifices he made it must be understood that when the government was in great straits he took $ , of money that was as good as gold and let the government have it, taking in return money that was of slight value. he also took fifty tons of flour to springfield and let the government have it for paper money at par. there were no greater heroes in the revolutionary war than such men as timothy edwards. he was nearly fifty years old when the war closed and he found himself the father of thirteen children and without property or business. full of courage and enterprise he succeeded in supporting his family in comfort and in regaining a substantial property before his death, which occurred in the midst of the next war, october , . it was not an easy thing to educate children in those times. when the revolutionary war broke out his oldest child was but thirteen, and when it ended he had ten children under twenty-one. there were only three books in the schools at stockbridge during the war, dilworth's spelling book and arithmetic and the book of psalms. from these the children of timothy edwards received their education and that it was a good training subsequent events show. the first born, a daughter, married benjamin chaplin, jr., a graduate of yale ( ), and for her second husband capt. dan tyler, of brookline, ct., a graduate of harvard. her second child, edward, became register of probate. jonathan, the second born, had several children who became prominent in professional and business life. phoebe married rev. asahel hooker, an eminent graduate of yale, and for her second husband rev. samuel farrer, a graduate of harvard, and for many years treasurer and financial agent of andover theological seminary. her children were noted men and women, graduates of yale and dartmouth, clergymen, theological professors, secretary of the american board of foreign missions, and secretary american baptist missionary union, prominent teachers and authors. rhoda edwards, another of timothy's daughters, married col. josiah dwight, of springfield. among their fifteen children and their descendants are the founder of a famous young ladies' school at lenox; an author of "spanish conquest of america," and five other considerable works; clerk of supreme court of massachusetts; a boston lawyer, graduate of harvard; an eminent linguist and graduate of harvard; music teacher in new york city, educated in germany; st. louis lawyer, graduate of harvard college and law school, who studied in germany; major in civil war, wounded at antietam; hospital nurse in civil war; graduate of yale; graduate of cambridge, eng., and author of "five years in an english university;" a graduate of amherst and andover, and missionary in southern india; lawyer in springfield; eminent teacher at northampton; leading physician at northampton; leading physician at new bedford; supt. pacific mail steamship company; merchant in new york; insurance manager, new york; author of "greece and roman mythology," and five other important works; supt. cincinnati, hamilton & dayton r.r.; a new york lawyer and graduate of yale; author of "history of virginia," and two other works; graduate dartmouth and andover; assistant surgeon u.s. navy; and an officer in civil war, who fought in thirty battles. mary edwards, another daughter of timothy, married mason whiting, district attorney of new york, and member of new york legislature. in this family of eight children and their descendants are an authoress; a colonel in civil war; treasurer american missionary association; rev. w.s. tyler, d.d., ll.d., a graduate of amherst and andover, professor of greek for fifty years at amherst; col. mason whiting tyler, graduate of amherst, gallant soldier in civil war; wm. w. tyler, graduate of amherst, manufacturer of famous turbine water wheels; henry mather tyler, graduate of amherst, professor of greek at knox college, pastor at galesburg, fitchburg and worcester, and professor of greek at smith college; john mason tyler, graduate of amherst and union theological seminary, studied at gothenburg and leipsic, professor of biology at amherst and eminent lecturer. to william edwards, another son of timothy, oldest son of jonathan edwards, an entire chapter will be given. chapter x colonel william edwards fascinating is the story of colonel william edwards, grandson of jonathan edwards, the inventor of the process of tanning by which the leather industry of the world was revolutionized. in no respect did the intellectual and moral inheritance show itself more clearly than in the recuperative force of the family of colonel edwards. attention has already been called to the remarkable way in which the father, timothy edwards, re-established himself and educated his large family after his great financial reverses in the period of the revolutionary war, but the story of colonel william edwards is even a more striking illustration of this same power. he was born at elizabeth, new jersey, november , . he was a mere child during the revolutionary struggle. before he was two years old the father removed to stockbridge, mass., and the boy grew up in as thoroughly a rural community as could be found. the school privileges were very meagre. no books were printed in the american colonies because of british prohibition. from early childhood he had to work, first as his mother's assistant, tending the children and doing all kinds of household work such as a handy boy can do. as soon as he could sit on a horse he rode for light ploughing and by the time he was ten was driving oxen for heavy ploughing and teaming. william edwards was only thirteen when he was put out as an apprentice to a tanner in elizabethtown, n.j. to reach this place the lad had to ride horseback to the hudson river, about thirty miles, make arrangements to have the horse taken back, and take passage on a west indies cattle brig to new york. it took him a week to get to new york. he then took the ferry for elizabethtown. when young edwards began life as a tanner it took twelve months for the tanning of hides. this was by far the most extensive tannery in america. it had a capacity of , sides. the only "improvement" then known-- --was the use of a wooden plug in the lime vats and water pools to let off the contents into the brook. the bark was ground by horse power. there was a curb fifteen feet in diameter, made of three-inch plank, with a rim fifteen inches high. within this was a stone wheel with many hollows and the wooden wheel with long pegs. two horses turned these wheels which would grind half a cord of bark in a day of twelve hours. the first year william was at work grinding bark. all the pay received for the year's work was the knowledge gained of the art of grinding bark, very poor board (no clothing, no money), and the privilege of tanning for himself three sheep skins. the fourth half year he received his first money, $ . a month, which was paid out of friendliness for the edwards family. before he was twenty he set up in business for himself. he had saved $ ; his father, still poor, gave him $ ; he bought land for his plant for $ on long credit. after years of great struggle he succeeded in business and developed the process by which instead of employing one hand for every one hundred sides he could tan , with twenty lads and the cost was reduced from twelve cents a pound to four cents. the quality was improved even more than the cost was reduced. when the war of broke out he had practically the only important tannery in the united states, but the war scare and attendant evils led to his failure in . he was now years old with a wife and nine children. he went to work in a factory for day wages to keep his family supplied with the necessities of life. by some misunderstanding and a combination of law suits his patents were lost to him. when colonel edwards failed in he owed considerable sums of money and nine years later the courts released him from all obligations, yet between the age of and he paid every cent of this indebtedness amounting to $ , . the chief interest in colonel edwards centers in his children. when his failure came there were nine children, five boys and four girls. the youngest was a few months old and the eldest . seven of them were under years of age. in the first four years of their reverses two others were born, so that his large family had their preparation and start in life in the years of struggle. nevertheless they took their places among the prosperous members of the edwards family. the eldest son, william w. edwards, was one of the eminently successful men of new york. he lived to be years old and his life was fully occupied with good work. he was engaged in the straw goods business in new york; helped to develop the insurance business to large proportions; organized the dime savings bank of brooklyn, of which he was treasurer and cashier. he was one of the founders of the american tract society and of the new york mercantile library. he was a member of the state legislature for several terms. henry edwards was one of boston's most eminent merchants and a most useful man. he had the only strictly wholesale silk house in boston for nearly half a century. he was born in northampton, . at the age of fifteen he entered the employ of a prominent boston importing house and began by opening the store, building the fires, and carrying out goods. by the time he was twenty he was the most trusted employee. he was a born trader. his brother in new york knowing that twist buttons were scarce in that city suggested that henry buy up all there were in boston before the dealers discovered the fact that they were scarce in new york and send them on to him. they cleared $ in a few weeks. he was an earnest student. not having had the advantages of an education he made up for it by studying evenings. they imported their silks from france which led him to study french until he was accomplished in the art of reading and speaking the french language. it is rather remarkable that learning the language in this way, he was able to go to france and out-rank most foreigners in parisian society. an edwards did not absolutely need the college and the university in order to be eminently scholarly in any special line. at the age of twenty-five he went into business as the senior partner of the house of edwards & stoddard on state street, boston. it was the only house that made its whole business the importing of silks. at the age of twenty-eight he went to paris to purchase silks and remained there many years. they did a highly profitable business for nearly fifty years. he received much social attention while in paris. general lafayette was specially friendly, and the families visited frequently. he was also highly honored in boston, where he was a member of the city government--it was an honor in those days--for nine years, one of the trustees of amherst college for forty years, a member of the massachusetts legislature and received several important appointments of trust and honor from governor john a. andrew and president lincoln. boston had few men in his day who were more prosperous or more highly honored. ogden e. edwards was for several years at the head of one of the largest leather houses of new york city, eminently prosperous and of great service to the public. alfred edwards was founder and senior partner in one of the largest wholesale dry goods houses of new york for fifty years, known as alfred edwards & co. amory was for many years a member of the firm of alfred edwards & co. he was also united states consul at buenos ayres, and traveled extensively in south america. his nephew, wm. h. edwards, wrote of these travels. this nephew, resident at coalbough, west virginia, is the author of a famous work on "the butterflies of north america," and also of an important work on "shaksper nor shakespeare." richard c. edwards was also a member of the firm of alfred edwards & co. and shared the prosperity of the house with his brother. rebecca t. edwards, the eldest daughter, married benjamin curtis, a wealthy merchant in business in new york and paris. she was married in paris and general lafayette gave her away in place of her father. sarah h. edwards married rev. john n. lewis, a successful clergyman. elizabeth t. edwards married henry rowland, an eminently successful and useful citizen of new york, whose children, like himself, have been honored in many ways. ann maria edwards married professor edwards a. park, d.d., the president of andover theological seminary and the most eminent theologian of the day. their son, rev. william edwards park, of gloversville, new york, is a preacher of rare ability. rev. w.e. park has two sons, graduates of yale, young men of great promise. the ten children of colonel edwards lived to great age, and each of the sons was eminently successful in business, and all were highly esteemed. each of the daughters married men eminent in commercial or professional life. none of them were privileged to receive a liberal education because of the great financial reverses that came to the father in their youth, but every one of them was closely identified with educational institutions and all were rated as scholarly men and women. chapter xi the mary edwards dwight family after studying at some length the family of the eldest son of jonathan edwards, it is worth while to study the family of one of the daughters. mary, the fourth child born at northampton ( ), was married at the age of to timothy dwight, born in vermont ( ) and graduated from yale in . it is interesting to find a daughter of jonathan edwards marrying a yale graduate, who "had such extreme sensibility to the beauty and sweetness of always doing right, and such a love of peace, and regarded the legal profession as so full of temptations to do wrong, in great degree and small" that he persistently refused to study law, though it had been his father's great desire. the conscientiousness of major dwight is well illustrated by this incident. there was a lottery in the interest of princeton college, authorized by the legislature of new jersey, and dwight was sent twenty tickets for sale. he returned them, but the time required for the mail in those days was so long that they did not reach the destination until after the drawing. major dwight was notified that one of his twenty tickets had drawn $ , and all but one ticket had drawn some prize. major dwight paid for the one blank ticket and would not take a cent of the large prize money. this was worthy a son-in-law of mr. edwards, the progenitor of a family of mighty men. major dwight was a merchant in northampton, a selectman, judge of probate for sixteen years and was for several years a member of the legislature. at the time of his death, , he was possessed of , acres of valuable land in northampton, and he willed his wife $ , , and each of his thirteen children $ , . at that time there were but five painted houses in northampton and but two were carpeted. of the fourteen children, thirteen grew up, and twelve were married; and their entire family adds greatly to the glory of the family of jonathan edwards. the oldest son, dr. timothy dwight, president of yale, said with much tenderness and force, "all that i am and all that i shall be, i owe to my mother." she was a woman of remarkable will power and intellectual vigor. she was but seventeen when her first child was born and was the mother of fourteen children at forty-two. the first-born, president timothy dwight, s.t.d., ll.d., born , was one of the most eminent of americans. he learned his alphabet at a single sitting while a mere child, and at four knew the catechism by heart. he graduated from yale at seventeen; taught the hopkins school in new haven at seventeen and eighteen; was tutor in yale from nineteen to twenty-five years of age; wrote the "conquest of canada," which was reprinted in london, at nineteen. this work was dedicated to george washington by permission. at twenty-three, he was in the fore front of the advocates of independence. at twenty-two, general washington appointed him a chaplain in the army, and personally requested that he accept. his widow received $ a year pension because of this service. he was a member of the massachusetts legislature and secured an important grant to harvard university. he was offered a professorship at harvard and could have gone to congress without opposition, but he declined both, and at thirty-two accepted a country pastorate at greenfield hill, connecticut. he remained there twenty-two years. his salary was $ . he also had a gift of $ , for accepting the call, a parish lot of six acres, and twenty cords of wood annually. this was said to be the largest ministerial salary in new england. at forty-three he was called from the country parish to the presidency of yale. his salary as president was $ . later he had $ , from which he paid $ for two amanuenses which he required because his sight had failed him. he published fourteen important works. he was largely instrumental in organizing the american board of commissioners of foreign missions; the american missionary society and the american bible society. to him is largely due the establishment of theological seminaries in the country. for forty-six years he taught every year either in a public or private school or college, and all but one year of that time he preached every week and almost invariably he prepared a new sermon. when he died, from a cancer at sixty-five, the children insisted that the estate should be for the mother during her lifetime, and when she died there was found to be $ , although his salary had always been ridiculously small. the eight children were all boys, and all but one grew to manhood. timothy was a hardware merchant in new haven and new york for more than forty years. he endowed the "dwight professorship of didactic theology in yale," which was named for him. there were nine children, grandchildren of president dwight by his eldest son. of these the eldest, also timothy, was the leading paper manufacturer in the trust mill headquarters at chicago, and his six children were enterprising and successful business men in illinois and wisconsin. john william dwight was one of the leading manufacturers of chemicals in connecticut. edward strong dwight, of yale, , and of theological seminary, yale, was for many years a trustee of amherst and a prominent clergyman. j.h. lyman, m.d., and edward huntington lyman, m.d., were names that added luster to the family of president dwight. benjamin woolsey dwight, m.d., another son of the president of yale, was a graduate of yale and treasurer of hamilton college for nineteen years. among his descendants are richard smith dewey, m.d., of ann arbor, in charge of brooklyn city hospital; charge of military hospital at hesse cassel in franco-prussian war; assistant superintendent illinois state insane hospital at elgin. also elliott anthony, of hamilton, ; chicago lawyer; city attorney; a member of the illinois constitutional convention in and again in ; founder of the law institute, chicago, and for several years the president. also edward woolsey dwight, who was a leading citizen and legislator of wisconsin. it is impracticable to give the record of many of the distinguished members of such a family, but a brief notice of a few will give some idea of the standard of the family. benj. woodbridge dwight, ph.d., b. , g. hamilton , yale theological seminary, professor in hamilton; founded central presbyterian church, joliet, ill.; established "dwight's high school," brooklyn; editor-in-chief of "the interior" of chicago, which he owned and edited; contributor to many magazines; author of several scholarly works; had the first preparatory school which placed german on a level with greek in importance, and founded a large preparatory boarding school at clinton, n.y. he was a man of rare ability, character and success. prof. theodore william dwight, ll.d., b. , g. hamilton , g. yale law s.; professor hamilton college sixteen years; dean of columbia college law s. from to . james brice of england placed him at the head of legal learning in the united states and said: "it would be worth an english student's while to cross the atlantic to attend his course." another eminent english lawyer, a.v. dicey, in "legal education" wrote of him as "the greatest living american teacher of law." he gave a course of lectures each year at cornell; was a member of the n.y. constitutional convention in ; was a member of the famous committee of seventy in n.y. city that exposed the tweed ring; was president of the new york prison association and presided when mr. dugdale was employed to study the jukes; associate editor "american law register;" was legal editor of "johnson's encyclopædia," and made many important contributions to the legal literature of the country. there have been few men of equal eminence in our country's history. president theodore dwight woolsey, d.d., ll.d., b. new york city, october , , was the grandson of mary edwards dwight and great grandson of jonathan edwards; g. yale ; studied at princeton theological seminary and g. at yale l.s.; studied in german universities; professor in yale twenty-two years; president of yale - . wesleyan conferred degree of ll.d. and harvard that of ll.d. and s.t.d. all before he was fifty years of age. president of the evangelical alliance held in n.y. city , the leading american on the committee for the revision of the bible. after resigning the presidency he continued to lecture at yale until his death, . there was no more eminent american in unofficial life from to than he. president hayes once said that he was greatly perplexed at one time as to the line of public policy which he should pursue until it occurred to him that president woolsey was the one american on whose judgment he could rely, and after consulting him his course was entirely clear and his action wise. he was the author of several valuable and standard works. yale's first great advance was in the time of president timothy dwight, its second was in the administration of president theodore dwight woolsey. when he became president the classes about doubled in size. he introduced new departments at once and endowments came in, such as had never been considered possible. the tuition was raised from $ to $ ; the salaries were greatly increased, graduate courses were introduced; many new buildings were erected and everything went forward at a radically different pace. yale and american thought owe much to president woolsey. he wrote many scholarly works. there were thirteen children born to president woolsey. of these, one daughter married rev. edgar laing heermance, a graduate of yale and a useful and talented man; one of the sons, theodore salisbury, was a graduate of yale, and professor of international law at yale. president timothy dwight, d.d., ll.d., b. , g. yale , g. yale theological school, studied at bonn and berlin in germany; was professor at yale and president from to . he has been an eminent american scholar for half a century. if there were but two or three such men in a family it would make it memorable. yale gave him the degree of d.d., and both harvard and princeton that of ll.d. he was editor of "the new englander." it is a singular fact that the three great advances which yale has made have been in the times of the two dwights and of woolsey, all descendants of jonathan edwards. by the end of his third year the number of students had risen to and the sixth year to . the gifts to yale in each of the fifteen years of his administration were fabulous as compared with any past experiences, often above $ , . president sereno edwards dwight, d.d., g. yale , practiced law in new haven; author of important books which were republished in england; became a clergyman at the age of twenty-nine; pastor of park st. church, boston; was chaplain of the u.s. senate; established successful boarding school in new haven. among his students were the two boys who afterwards made the famous andrews & stoddard's latin grammar. his literary work was extensive and valuable. standing by himself he would shed lustre upon the names he bore, edwards and dwight. he was a tutor in yale and was third president of hamilton college. william theodore dwight, d.d., b. , g. yale , tutor at yale, practiced law in philadelphia; became a clergyman; pastor in portland; overseer of bowdoin college. he was offered three professorships, which he declined. he was one of the religious leaders of america for many years. hon. theodore dwight, b. , lawyer. editor "the connecticut mirror" and "the hartford courant;" member of congress, where he won honors by successfully combating the famous john randolph; secretary of the famous hartford convention; established and edited - the "albany daily advertiser;" established and edited the "new york daily advertiser" - ; wrote "life of thomas jefferson," and many other works of importance. there were few men in his day who occupied a position of such influence. theodore dwight, d, b. , g. yale , eminent scholar, imprisoned in paris for distributing the new testament gratis in the streets; spoke seven languages; was the warmest american friend of garibaldi and was authorized by him to edit his works in this country; was director n.y. asylum for the blind, and of the n.y. public school assn.; was instrumental in having music introduced into the schools of n.y. city; was prominent in religious and philanthropic as well as educational work. in the kansas crisis he induced , settlers to go to kansas, and indirectly caused nearly , to go at that critical time. he edited at various times "the n.y. daily advertiser," "the youths penny paper," "the american magazine," "the family visitor," "the n.y. presbyterian," "the christian alliance," and wrote several successful text-books and many literary and historical works. he was a leader in the noblest sense of the term. nathaniel dwight, m.d., b. , surgeon in united states army, practiced medicine in providence; prepared the first school geography ever published in the united states; wrote many historical works; original advocate of special institutional care for the insane. after eleven years of ardent championship he saw the first insane retreat established. henry e. dwight, m.d., b. , g. yale , g. andover theological seminary , studied in germany and france and was an eminent physician in philadelphia. rev. s.g. dwight, g. union theological seminary, and was a missionary in the sandwich islands. here are a few who can only be named: john w. dwight, b. , g. yale, eminent divine and trustee of amherst college for many years. mrs. rensselaer nicol, of new haven, a leader in prison reform and other philanthropic movements. thomas b. dwight, b. , g. yale, district attorney of philadelphia and eminent lawyer. sereno e. dwight, surgeon in british army. james a. dwight, b. , in united states navy. samuel h. stunner was with sherman in his march to the sea. mrs. r.h. perkins, b. , eminent teacher, principal duffield school, detroit. william h. sumner, officer in u.s. regular army. thomas berry, banker in cleveland. general robert montgomery, of pennsylvania. o.h. kennedy, officer in u.s. navy. fenton rockwell, judge advocate and provost judge in new orleans; officer in civil war, and in many important battles. william r. dwight, new york banker. george s. dwight, large railroad contractor. william allerton, leather merchant in boston. mrs. egbert c. smyth, wife of the dean of andover theological seminary. rossiter w. raymond, eminent specialist, author, and lecturer. w.m. bell, manufacturer, allegheny. colonel a.s.m. morgan, u.s.a. j.e. jacobs, insurance manager, chicago. e.s. churchill, portland, me., merchant. w.d. bell, manufacturer, philadelphia. george collier, rich st. louis banker. e.a. hitchcock, tea merchant, hong kong. m.d. collier, graduated from yale; st. louis lawyer. h.r. bell, chicago physician. d.w. bell, pittsburg lawyer. a.s. bell, pittsburg lawyer. george hoadley, born in ; graduated from yale; mayor new haven; eight times mayor of cleveland. w.w. hoadley, born in ; cincinnati banker. dr. t.f. pomeroy, detroit. general j.h. bates, u.s.a.; ohio state senate. governor george hoadley, born in ; graduated from western reserve college; supreme court judge; president democratic convention that nominated general hancock for the presidency. major w.w. winthrop of the civil war; graduated from tale. major w.t. johnson, graduated from yale; killed at battle of big bethel. theodore weston, graduated from yale; civil engineer of croton water works. j.m. woolsey, born in ; graduated from yale; capitalist, cleveland. sarah c. woolsey is "susan coolidge." mrs. daniel c. grilman, wife of the president of johns hopkins university, and formerly president of university of california. samuel carmalt, wealthy land owner in pennsylvania. dr. w.w. woolsey, born in ; graduated from yale; physician, dubuque, ia. t.b. woolsey, flour merchant, new york. samuel w. johnson, graduated from princeton and harvard law school; new york lawyer. woolsey johnson, m.d., graduated from princeton and new york medical college; physician, new york. theodore s. woolsey, graduated from yale; professor in yale. charles f. johnson, graduated from yale; professor united states naval academy, annapolis. w.w. johnson, graduated from yale; professor kenyon college. j.h. rathburn, lawyer, utica. j.o. pease, merchant, philadelphia. a.s. dwight, lieutenant u.s.a.; killed at petersburg. george p.b. dwight, new york custom house. henry e. dwight, born in ; southern planter. theodore woolsey porter, b. , g. yale , eminent teacher; principal of washington institute, new york city. timothy dwight porter, m.d., b. , g. yale , was in the new york senate and a successful practitioner. imperfectly as these names represent the achievements of the descendants of mary edwards dwight they do hint strongly at the vigor, character and scholarship for which the family of jonathan edwards stands in american life. there is another large family of dwights, direct descendants of jonathan edwards, through his granddaughter, rhoda edwards, but these are not, of course, included in this list of mary's descendants. many of these are eminent men, and reference is here made to their omission, lest some one should think the facts regarding them were not gathered. a modern instance it was known that john eliot woodbridge removed to youngstown, o., about one hundred years ago, but no trace of him was found until these chapters were in type when it appeared that this undiscovered remainder was a most important branch of the family. congressman r.w. taylor, of ohio, chairman of the committee to pass upon the case of mr. roberts of utah, is a descendant of jonathan edwards through john eliot woodbridge. his masterly treatment of the case is recognized throughout the country. here is what the "detroit free press" said of him at the time of the investigation: "in appearance he is not of the robust order of statesmen. with fair face, shoulders that he has always permitted to droop, indispensable eyeglasses, and hands that nine women out of ten would envy, modest demeanor, and kindly instincts, he is among the last of men that a casual observer would pick as fitting leaders where nerve, aggressiveness, and fearless determination must be joined with an ability to give and take in legal controversy. "but this passing judgment would be at widest variance with the truth. college mates of taylor will recall the deceptiveness of this outward appearance. it concealed muscles of steel and a will that had only to be right in order to be invincible. he was the peer of any amateur baseball catcher in his day, and held the same enviable place as a student of the classics. he was the strong man for the d.k.e. initiations, and took the same rank in all scholastic competitions." dr. timothy woodbridge, of youngstown, was a graduate of the medical college of philadelphia, and was one of the eminent physicians of eastern ohio. his grandson, benjamin warner wells, of chicago, was a graduate of annapolis naval academy. he was admiral schley's flag secretary in the engagement at santiago. dr. john eliot woodbridge, cleveland, is an eminent specialist in typhoid fever cases. robert walker taylor was comptroller of the united states treasury for fifteen years. the education of american girls. considered in a series of essays. edited by anna c. brackett. "the time has arrived, when like huntsmen, we should surround the cover, and look sharp that justice does not slip away and pass out of sight and get lost; for there can be no doubt that we are in the right direction. only try and get a sight of her, and if you come within view first, let me know."--plato rep. book iv. [illustration] new york: g. p. putnam's sons, fourth avenue and twenty-third street. . entered according to act of congress, in the year , by g. p. putnam's sons, in the office of the librarian of congress, at washington, d. c. lange, little & co., printers, electrotypers and stereotypers, to wooster street, n. y. to the school-girls and college-girls of america, because we believe that their ideals are high and that they have strength to make them real, this book is dedicated by the women who, in the intervals snatched from daily labor, have written it for their sakes. preface. the table of contents sufficiently indicates the purpose and aim of this book. the essays are the thoughts of american women, of wide and varied experience, both professional and otherwise; no one writer being responsible for the work of another. the connecting link is the common interest. some of the names need no introduction. the author of essay iv. has had an unusually long and varied experience in the education and care of western girls, in schools and colleges. the author of the essay on english girls is a graduate of antioch, has taught for many years in different sections of this country, and has had unusual opportunities, for several years, of observing english methods and results. the essays on the first four institutions, whose names they bear, come with the official sanction of the presiding officers of those institutions, who vouch for the correctness of the statements. of these, vii. is by a member of the present senior class of the university, who has instituted very exact personal inquiries among the women-students. the author of viii. is the librarian of mt. holyoke seminary. the writer of the report from oberlin is a graduate--a teacher of wide experience, and has been for three or four years the principal of the ladies' department of the college. the resident physician at vassar is too well known as such, to need any introduction. there are many other institutions whose statistics would be equally valuable, such, for instance, as the northwestern university of illinois, which has not only opened its doors to girl-students, but has placed women on the board of trustees, and in the faculty. from antioch, which we desired to have fully represented, we have been disappointed in obtaining statistics, which may, however, hereafter be embodied in a second edition. in place thereof, we give the brief statement of facts found under the name of the institution, supplied by a friend. with reference to my own part of the volume, if the words on "physical education" far outnumber those on the "culture of the intellect," and the "culture of the will," it can only be said that the american nation are far more liable to overlook the former than the latter two, and that the number of pages covered is by no means to be taken as an index of the relative importance of the divisions in themselves. of the imperfection of all three, no one can be more conscious than their author. the subject is too large for any such partial treatment. to friends, medical, clerical, and unprofessional, who have kindly given me the benefit of their criticism on different parts of the introductory essay, my thanks are due. especially do i recognize my obligation to dr. w. gill wylie, of this city, whose line of study and practice has made his criticism of great value. i cannot refrain from adding that i am fully aware of the one-sided nature of the training acquired in the profession of teaching. civilization, implying, as it does, division of labor, necessarily renders all persons more or less one-sided. in the teaching profession, the voluntary holding of the mind for many hours of each day in the position required for the work of educating uneducated minds, the constant effort to state facts clearly, distinctly, and freed from unnecessary details, almost universally induce a straightforwardness of speech, which savors, to others who are not immature, of brusqueness and positiveness, if it may not deserve the harsher names of asperity and arrogance. it is not these in essence, though it appear to be so, and thus teachers often give offense and excite opposition when these results are farthest from their intention. in the case of these essays, this professional tendency may also have been aggravated by the circumstances under which they have been written, the only hours available for the purpose having been the last three evening hours of days whose freshness was claimed by actual teaching, and the morning hours of a short vacation. i do not offer these explanations as an apology, simply as an explanation. no apology has the power to make good a failure in courtesy. if passages failing in this be discovered, it will be cause for gratitude and not for offense if they are pointed out. the spirit which has prompted the severe labor has been that which seeks for the truth, and endeavors to express it, in hopes that more perfect statements may be elicited. with these words, i submit the result to the intelligent women of america, asking only that the screen of the honest purpose may be interposed between the reader and any glaring faults of manner or expression. anna c. brackett. east th street, new york city, january, . contents. page i. education of american girls _anna c. brackett._ ii. a mother's thought _edna d. cheney._ iii. the other side _caroline h. dall._ iv. effects of mental growth _lucinda h. stone._ v. girls and women in england and america. _mary e. beedy._ vi. mental action and physical health. _mary putnam jacobi, m.d._ vii. michigan university _sarah dix hamlin._ viii. mount holyoke seminary _mary o. nutting._ ix. oberlin college _adelia a. f. johnston._ x. vassar college. _alida c. avery, m.d._ xi. antioch college " " xii. letter from a german woman _mrs. ogden n. rood._ xiii. review of "sex in education." _editor._ xiv. appendix. "die weltgeschichte ist der fortschritt in das bewusstseyn der freiheit."--hegel. the education of american girls. "who educates a woman, educates a race." the education of american girls. there seems to be at present no subject more capable of exciting and holding attention among thoughtful people in america, than the question of the education of girls. we may answer it as we will, we may refuse to answer it, but it will not be postponed, and it will be heard; and until it is answered on more rational grounds than that of previous custom, or of preconceived opinion, it may be expected to present itself at every turn, to crop out of every stratum of civilized thought. nor is woman to blame if the question of her education occupies so much attention. the demands made are not hers--the continual agitation is not primarily of her creating. it is simply the tendency of the age, of which it is only the index. it would be as much out of place to blame the weights of a clock for the moving of the hands, while, acted upon by an unseen, but constant force, they descend slowly but steadily towards the earth. that this is true, is attested by the widely-spread discussion and the contemporaneous attempts at reform in widely-separated countries. while the women in america are striving for a more complete development of their powers, the english women are, in their own way, and quite independently, forcing their right at least to be examined if not to be taught, and the russian women are asserting that the one object toward which they will bend all their efforts of reform is "the securing of a solid education from the foundation up." when the water in the scotch lakes rises and falls, as the quay in lisbon sinks, we know that the cause of both must lie far below, and be independent of either locality. the agitation of itself is wearisome, but its existence proves that it must be quieted, and it can be so quieted only by a rational solution, for every irrational decision, being from its nature self-contradictory, has for its chief mission to destroy itself. as long as it continues, we may be sure that the true solution has not been attained, and for our hope we may remember that we "have seen all winter long the thorn first show itself intractable and fierce, and after, bear the rose upon its top." we, however, are chiefly concerned with the education of our own girls, of girls in america. born and bred in a continent separated by miles of ocean from the traditions of europe, they may not unnaturally be expected to be of a peculiar type. they live under peculiar conditions of descent, of climate, of government, and are hence very different from their european sisters. no testimony is more concurrent than that of observant foreigners on this point. more nervous, more sensitive, more rapidly developed in thinking power, they scarcely need to be stimulated so much as restrained; while, born of mixed races, and reared in this grand meeting-ground of all nations, they gain at home, in some degree, that breadth which can be attained in other countries only by travel. our girls are more frank in their manners, but we nowhere find girls so capable of teaching intrusion and impertinence their proper places, and they combine the french nerve and force with the teutonic simplicity and truthfulness. less accustomed to leading-strings, they walk more firmly on their own feet, and, breathing in the universal spirit of free inquiry, they are less in danger of becoming unreasonable and capricious. such is the material, physical and mental, which we have to fashion into womanhood by means of education. but is it not manifest in the outset, that no system based on european life can be adequate to the solution of such a problem? our american girls, if treated as it is perfectly correct to treat french or german girls, are thwarted and perverted into something which has all the faults of the german and french girl, without her excellencies. our girls will not blindly obey what seem to them arbitrary rules, and we can rule them only by winning their conviction. in other words, they will rule themselves, and it therefore behooves us to see that they are so educated that they shall do this wisely. they are not continually under the eye of a guardian. they are left to themselves to a degree which would be deemed in other countries impracticable and dangerous. we cannot follow them everywhere, and therefore, more than in any other country must we educate them, so that they will follow and rule themselves. but no platform of premise and conclusion, however logical and exact, is broad enough to place under an uneducated mind. nothing deserving the name of conviction can have a place in such. prejudices, notions, prescriptive rules, may exist there, but these are not sufficient as guides of conduct. education, of course, signifies, as a glance at the etymology of the word shows us, a development--an unfolding of innate capacities. in its process it is the gradual transition from a state of entire dependence, as at birth, to a state of independence, as in adult life. being a general term, it includes all the faculties of the human being, those of his mortal, and of his immortal part. it is a training, as well of the continually changing body, which he only borrows for temporary use from material nature, and whose final separation is its destruction, as of the changeless essence in which consists his identity, and which, from its very nature, is necessarily immortal. the education of a girl is properly said to be finished when the pupil has attained a completely fashioned will, which will know how to control and direct her among the exigencies of life, mental power to judge and care for herself in every way, and a perfectly developed body. however true it may be, that life itself, by means of daily exigencies, will shape the will into habits, will develop to some extent the intelligence, and that the forces of nature will fashion the body into maturity; we apply the term education only to the voluntary training of one human being who is undeveloped, by another who is developed, and it is in this sense alone that the process can concern us. for convenience, then, the subject will be considered under three main heads, corresponding to the triple statement made above. especially is it desirable to place all that one may have to say of the education of girls in america on some proved, rational basis, for in no country is the work of education carried on in so purely empirical a way. we are deeply impressed with its necessity; we are eager in our efforts, but we are always in the condition of one "whom too great eagerness bewilders." we are ready to drift in any direction on the subject. we adopt every new idea that presents itself. we recognize our errors in one direction, and in our efforts to prevent those we fall into quite as dangerous ones on the other side. more than in any other country, then, it were well for us to follow in the paths already laid out by the thinkers of germany. i shall, therefore, make no apology for using as guide the main divisions of the great philosophers of that nation, who alone, in modern times, have made for education a place among the sciences. truth is of no country, but belongs to whoever can comprehend it. nor do i apologize for speaking of what may be called small things nor for dealing with minor details. "when the fame of heraclitus was celebrated throughout greece, there were certain persons that had a curiosity to see so great a man. they came, and as it happened, found him warming himself in a kitchen. the meanness of the place occasioned them to stop, upon which the philosopher thus accosted them: 'enter,' said he, 'boldly, for here too there are gods!'" following so ancient and wise an authority, i also say to myself in speaking of these things which seem small and mean: enter boldly, for here too there are gods; nay, perchance we shall thereby enter the very temple of the goddess hygeia herself. physical education, or, the culture of the body. "hæc ante exitium primis dant signa diebus."--virgil. "now my belief is--and this is a matter upon which i should like to have your opinion, but my own belief is--not that the good body improves the soul, but that the good soul improves the body. what do you say?"--plato, rep. book iii. if we could literally translate the german word _fertigkeiten_ into readinesses, and use it as a good english word, we should then have a term under which to group many arts of which a fully educated woman should have some knowledge--i mean cooking, sewing, sweeping, dusting, etc. when a woman is mistress of these, she is called _capable_, that good old word, heard oftener in new england than elsewhere, which carries with it a sweet savor of comfort and rest. some knowledge of these should undoubtedly constitute a part of the education of our girls; but the "how much" is a quantity which varies very materially as the years go by. for instance, the art of knitting stockings was considered in the days of our grandmothers one to which much time must be devoted, and those of us who were born in new england doubtless well recollect the time when, to the music of the tall old kitchen clock, we slowly, laboriously and yet triumphantly, "bound off" our first heel, or "narrowed off" our first toe. but weaving machines can do this work now with far greater precision; and while stockings are so good and so cheap, is it worth while for our girls to spend long hours in the slow process of looping stitches into each other? would not the same time be better spent in the open air and the sunshine, than in-doors, with cramped fingers and bent back over the knitting-needles? of sewing, nearly the same might be said, since the invention of machines for the purpose. sewing is a fine art, and those of us who can boast of being neat seamstresses do confess to a certain degree of pride in the boast. but the satisfaction arises from the well-doing, and not from the fact that it is sewing well done; for anything well and thoroughly done, even if it be only boot-blacking on a street corner, or throwing paper torpedoes in a theatre orchestra to imitate the crack of a whip in the "postilion galop," gives to its doer the same sense of self-satisfaction. it would be folly now, as it may have been in old times, for our girls to spend their hours and try their eyes over back-stitching for collars, etc., when any one out of a hundred cheap machines can do it not only in less time but far better, and the money which could be saved in many ways, by wisdom in housekeeping and caring for the health of children, would buy a machine for every family. this matter of stitching being done for us, then, we may say that the other varieties of sewing required are very few: "sewing over-and-over," or "top-stitching" as the irish call it, hemming, button sewing, button-hole making, and gathering. indeed, hemming, including felling, might be also omitted, as, with a very few exceptions, hems and fells are also handed over to the rapid machine; and "over-casting" is but a variety of "top-stitching." there are then only four things which a girl really needs to be taught to do, so far as the mere manual facility goes--"to sew over-and-over;" to put on a button; to gather, including "stroking" or "laying," and to make a button-hole. does it not seem as if an intelligent girl of fourteen or fifteen could be taught these in twelve lessons of one hour each? only practice can give rapidity and perfection; but at the age mentioned, the girl's hand has been pretty thoroughly educated to obey her will, and but very little time is needed to turn the acquired control into this peculiar activity, while, with the untrained muscles of the little child, much more time is required and much fretfulness engendered, born of the confined position and the almost insuperable difficulty of the achievement. above the mere manual labor, however, there comes another work which always has to be done for the child, and is therefore of no educational value for her: i mean the "fitting" and "basting." they cannot be intrusted to the child, for the simple reason that they involve not merely manual dexterity, but also an exercise of the judgment, which in the child has not yet become sufficiently developed. but when the girl has lived fourteen years, we will say, and has been trained in other ways into habits of neatness and order, she has also acquired judgment enough for the purpose, and needs only a few words of direction. the sewing of bands to gathers, the covering of cord, the cording of neck or belt, the arrangement of two edges for felling, the putting on of bindings, belong, so to speak, to the syntax of the art of sewing, and come under this division, which must, perforce, be left till maturer years than those of childhood. there is still a sphere above this, the three corresponding exactly to apprenticeship, journeymanship and mastership, in learning a trade. the third and last sphere is that of "cutting," and this demands simply and only, judgment and caution. there are a few general statements which must be given, as, for instance, "the right way of the cloth," in which the parts of the garment should be cut, etc.; but these being once learned--and a lesson of one hour would be a large allowance for this purpose--the good cutter is the one who has the most exact eye for measurement--trained already in school by drawing, writing, etc.--the best power of calculation--trained by arithmetic, algebra, etc.--and the best observation and judgment--trained by every study she has pursued under a good teacher. as to sewing, considered as a physical exercise, it may almost be pronounced bad in its very nature; considered as a mental exercise, in its higher spheres, it is excellent, because it calls for the activity of thought; but after the cutting and fitting are done, it is undoubtedly bad, leaving the mind free to wander wherever it will. the constant, mechanical drawing through of the needle, like the listening to a very dull address, seems to induce a kind of morbid intellectual acuteness, or nervousness. if the inner thought is entirely serene and happy, this may do no harm; but if it is not, if there is any internal annoyance or grief, the mind turns it over and over, till, like a snow-ball, it grows to a mountainous mass, and too heavy to be borne with patience. i think many women will testify, from a woman's experience, that there are times when an afternoon spent in sewing gives some idea of incipient insanity. this lengthy discussion of the woman's art of sewing can only be excused on the ground that it touches the question of physical and mental health. as a means of support, the needle can hardly be spoken of now. as to cooking, the same in substance might be said. it is perhaps a little more mechanical in its nature, though of that i am not positive; but if a girl is educated into a full development of what is known as common sense, she can turn that common sense in this direction as well as in any other, if the necessity arises. the parts of cooking which call for judgment--such, for instance, as whether cake is stiff enough or not, whether the oven is hot enough, safely to intrust the mixture to its care, whether the bread is sufficiently risen--require the same kind of trained senses as that by which the workman in the manufacture of steel decides as to the precise color and shade at which he must withdraw it for use. to quote from an english woman:[ ] "cookery is not a branch of general education for women or for men, but for technical instruction for those who are to follow the profession of cookery; and those who attempt to make it a branch of study for women generally, will be but helping to waste time and money, and adding to that sort of amateur tinkering in domestic work which is one of the principal causes of the inefficiency of our domestic servants * * * the intellectual and moral habits necessary to form a good cook and housekeeper are thoughtfulness, method, delicacy and accuracy of perception, good judgment, and the power of readily adapting means to ends, which, with americans, is termed 'faculty,' and with englishmen bears the homelier name of 'handiness.' morally, they are conscientiousness, command of temper, industry and perseverance; and these are the very qualities a good school education must develop and cultivate. the object of such an education is not to put into the pupils so much history, geography, french or science, but, through these studies, to draw out their intelligence, train them to observe facts correctly, and draw accurate inferences from their observation, which constitutes good judgment, and teach them to think, and to apply thought easily to new forms of knowledge. morally, the discipline of a good school tends directly to form the habits i mentioned above. the pupils are trained to steady industry and perseverance, to scorn dishonest work, and to control temper. the girls who leave school so trained, though they may know nothing of cooking or housekeeping, will become infinitely better cooks and housekeepers, as soon as they have a motive for doing so, than the uneducated woman, who has learned only the technical rules of her craft." every girl ought certainly also to know how to drive a nail, to put in and take out a screw, and to do various other things of the same kind, as well as to sweep and to dust; but of all these "readinesses," if i may be permitted the word, the same thing may be said. i have spoken of them under physical education, as their most appropriate place. passing now to the more definite consideration of physical education, it will be convenient to consider this division of the subject under three heads, as i have to speak of . repair, . exercise, . sexual education. repair. all parts of the body are, of course, as long as life exists, in a state of continual wear, old cells being constantly broken down, and new ones substituted in their places. when the apostle exclaimed, "i die daily," he uttered an important physiological as well as a spiritual truth; though, if he had said, "i die every instant," he would have expressed it more exactly. it is only by continual death that we live at all. but continual death calls for continual creation, the continual destruction for continual repair, and this is rendered possible by means of food and sleep. clothing, too, properly belongs under this division; for, were it not for this, the heat of the body would often be carried off faster than it could be generated, and the destructive process would outstrip the reconstructive. moreover, the clothing too frequently interferes with the normal functions of the most important repairing organs, and its consideration, therefore, must constitute the third branch of our inquiry. the division _repair_, then, will embrace a consideration of a. food, b. sleep, c. clothing. _food._--the kind and quantity of food must obviously vary with age, temperament, and the season. but three general rules may be laid down as of prime importance: the meals should be regular in their occurrence; they should be sufficiently near together to prevent great hunger, and absolutely nothing should be taken between them. an exception may, however, be safely made to this last rule, with regard to young children, in this wise, making a rule which i have known as established in families. "if the children are hungry enough to eat dry bread, they can have as much as they want at any time; if they are not, they are far better off without anything." these are the plainest rules of physiology, and yet how few of the girls around us are made to follow them! nothing is more sure to produce a disordered digestion, than the habit of irregular eating or drinking. if possible, the growing girl should have her dinner in the middle of the day. the exigencies of city life make this arrangement in some cases inconvenient, and yet inconvenience is less often than is popularly supposed synonymous with impracticability. if this cannot be done, and luncheons must be carried to school, the filling of the lunch-basket should never be left, except under exact directions, to the kind-hearted servant, or to the girl herself; and she should under no circumstances be allowed to buy her luncheon each day of the baker, or the confectioner, a usual practice twenty years ago of the girls in boston private schools. there are children and young girls who are said to have cravings for certain kinds of food, not particularly nutritious, but in ninety-nine per cent of these cases the cause of the morbid appetite can be found in the want of proper direction in childhood. the fact is, that _the formation of a healthy appetite is properly a subject of education_. the physical taste of the little girl needs rational direction as well as her mental taste, though mothers too often do not recognize the fact. it would seem almost like an insult to the intelligence of my readers, to say, that warm bread of whatever kind, pastry, confectionery, nuts, and raisins, should form no part of a girl's diet; did we not every day, not only in restaurants and hotels, but at private tables, see our girls fed upon these articles. the german child, in the steady german climate, may drink perhaps with impunity, beer, wine, tea and coffee; but to our american girls, with their nervous systems stung into undue activity by the extremes of our climate, and the often unavoidable conditions of american society, these should all be unknown drinks. the time will come soon enough, when the demands of adult life will create a necessity for these indispensable accompaniments of civilization; but before the time when the girl enters upon the active duties of a woman, they only stimulate to debilitate. it cannot be too often repeated, that the appetite and the taste for certain kinds of food are, to a greater degree than is usually acknowledged, merely the results of education; and the mother who sees her daughter pale and sickly, and falling gradually under the dominion of dyspepsia, in any of its multitudinous forms or results, and who seeks the physician's aid, has too often only her own neglect to blame, when the medicines fail to cure. from the food is manufactured the blood; from the blood all parts of the living tissue of every organ; not only bone and muscle cells, but nerve cells are built up from it, and if the blood be not of the best quality, either from the fact that the food was not of proper material or properly digested, not only the digestive organs, but the whole system, will be weak. moreover, those organs which await for their perfect development a later time than the others will be most apt to suffer from the result of long-established habits, and it is as true of the human body as of a chain, that no matter where the strain comes, it will break at its weakest part. the truth of what is here stated may be illustrated by the teeth, which are formed at different periods of life. many have a perfect set of what are known as first teeth; but in too many children in our american homes, the second teeth make their first appearance in a state of incipient decay, while it has become almost proverbial, that the wisdom teeth are of no use, except to the dentist. mothers have only to consult easily procured books to learn the kinds of food most easily digestible, and most nourishing. that they do not do so, results from the seeming general belief, that this matter of eating will take care of itself, and that it does not come within the province of education. the whole matter lies in the hands of women. the physician can do but little, because he can know but little. it is the intelligent women of america who must realize the evil, and must right the wrong, if we would see our girls what we most earnestly desire them to be--perfectly healthy and well developed. again, the cure of many diseases, especially those which are prevalent in the summer months, belongs more to the women of the household than to the physician. they alone can check the evil at its commencement. every educated woman ought to know, for instance, that cracked wheat and hominy, oat-meal, corn-bread, and graham bread, should not, as a general rule, be made the staple of diet in case of what is popularly known as "summer complaint"; and yet, how few girls seem to have any idea, when they are thus sick, that it is a matter of the least consequence what they eat, or that they ought not to make their breakfast of boston brown bread; and by how few of our girls is it considered a matter of any moment that the opposite trouble exists for days. ought they not to be educated to know that they can devise no surer way of poisoning the whole system, and then of straining all the contiguous organs, than by wilful neglect in this direction? when some facts are obvious, and some are latent, the blame, if trouble exists, is not unnaturally laid on the visible facts. it is evident to the physician that the girl has attended school. it is not so evident that, since her earliest childhood, she has been fed on improper food, at irregular hours, and that the processes by which the poisonous dead matter is removed from the system, have been irregularly carried on. his questions put on these topics are put in a general way, and answered in the same, with, perhaps, a worse than foolish mock-modesty to prompt the reply. he does the best that he can, but he cannot help stumbling, if he is required to walk in the dark. this false shame of which i speak, on this matter, seems to be a folly peculiarly american, and i am quite sure that it is not so common now as it was twenty years ago, though there are still many american women who would choose to run the risk of making themselves sick rather than to tread the folly out under a pure womanly scorn. this is also a matter which belongs to education. one great trouble with our american girls, and one which can be remedied by us, though we cannot remedy the climate, is not that their brains are overworked, but that their bodies generally, including brain, are underfed. i do not mean that they do not eat enough in bulk, though that is often the case, but that they do not take in enough of the chemical elements which they must have to build up the system. their food is not sufficiently nutritious, and the energy of the digestive organs is wasted in working upon material which, if it does not irritate and inflame, is at least of no economic value, and is simply rejected by the system; or, worse still, in default of better, it is absorbed, and the whole blood becomes poisoned. sometimes our girls do not eat often enough. for instance, a girl who, after tea, has been obliged to employ her brain in unusually hard work, might probably be helped by eating some nourishing food before sleep. if she do not, the result will not infrequently be that she will awake tired and languid; she will sit idly at the breakfast table, play with her knife and fork, and feel only disgust at the food provided. she may soon suffer from, if she does not complain of, back-ache and other attendant troubles, the simple result of weakness. it is only micawber's old statement over again: "annual income, twenty pounds, annual expenditure, twenty pounds, ought, and six; result--misery." after a long course of this kind, the physician is summoned, and the girl is forbidden to study. but it seldom occurs to any one that if - = - , the two may be made equal just as easily by adding the three to the five as by subtracting it from the eight, _i.e._, although we, as a nation, are supposed to be, at least, more conversant with arithmetic than with any branch of school study, though we do know that > , we do not see that + = , and so we try to cancel the offending - by diminishing the . but would not the other process be quite as rational? physical life is only a simple balance of forces, the expenditure and nourishment corresponding exactly to demand and supply in the science of political economy.[ ] they tend continually to level themselves. have we not the right to decide in which way the leveling shall be effected--the equation be formed? this is a simple solution of the difficulty. i suggest that this experiment be tried: let the girl study her extra time in the evening, if she desires, only being cautious that she do not infringe upon her sleep hours; then give her a supper of bread and butter and cold meat, and send her to bed. if her digestive organs are in good state, she will very possibly sleep a sound and dreamless sleep, and rise refreshed in the morning, with a good appetite for her breakfast. by this simple hygienic remedy, aching backs may not only be prevented, they may be gradually cured. i am stating actual facts. if the evening be spent in conversation, or mere lounging over books, the supper will not be needed, and will prove, if taken, only a burden; but if, as has already been said, it be spent in actual brain-work, the tremendous and unusual strain on the whole nervous system, occasioned by the destruction of nerve-cells, must be made good, or those organs most intimately connected with the nervous system and the sources of life, will be sure to suffer. it must, however, be repeated here, if we would secure the good results desired, that the supper must be of _nourishing_, not of stimulating food. even the destruction, through exercise, of the inferior muscle-cells demands food before sleeping. it is no merely fashionable custom which calls the dancers at an evening entertainment to the loaded supper-table, as those of my readers who have attended the so-called cold-water sociables will bear me witness. it may be seriously questioned whether the regulation which forbade any refreshment except cold water was not, like many other unthinking, economical plans, really no economy at all. instead of one pantry's furnishing food to the famished dancers, this was furnished for each one at home, from her own mother's private stores, and as the members of the sociables met at each other's houses in order, the total result of expenditure to each family, at the close of the winter, was probably the same as it would have been, had each family furnished, on one evening, a moderate entertainment of the same sort to the bankrupt systems. fashion is often wiser than we think her, especially when at parties for the "german" she prescribes a cup of beef-tea as the regulation refreshment. a long, rapid walk in the evening, as we all know, will produce the same effect. we return, and remark that we are hungry, merely meaning that we have received polite official notice that our physical bank account has been overdrawn. if we do not pay any attention to this notification, we shall surely in time be passed from adversary to judge, and from judge to officer, and finally be cast literally into a prison from which, unlike some of our city prisons, we shall not escape till we have paid the uttermost farthing. then we shall be likely to receive from the kindly friend whom we summon to visit us, wise and good advice, on the extravagance of spending so much. but might not the advice be possibly quite as useful if delivered in this wise: "why don't you earn more, and make larger deposits." the force of weakness compels us to stop spending our muscle cells; the kind friend, as far as is possible, puts a stop to the expenditure of nerve cells, and draws on the funds derived from the cinchona forests of south america and the iron mountains of missouri, to make new deposits on our account; and when the matter is thus doubly settled for us by nature and science, we go on our way rejoicing, only to repeat the same insane folly. but it is not good for one's credit to overdraw too frequently her bank account; and there may come a time when suspension means bankruptcy, and when all the kindness and skill of all our friends can be no longer of any avail. is it not our own fault, and shall we not so educate our girls that they shall not fall into it, since they comprehend its unreason? we are undoubtedly creatures of habit; but we oftener apply the word to our mental and moral than to our physical nature, and wrongly. when regular and constant demands are made upon any organ of the body, the body, as it were, falls into the habit of laying in enough force in that particular department for that particular purpose, as the scientific steward at vassar lays in for each day so many pounds of beef or mutton, because he can rely with certainty on its consumption. if in any case the demand is, for any reason, slackened, there is a surplus of energy which must find a vent, or render its possessor very uncomfortable. need mothers be reminded of how very troublesome the little girl becomes in a short school vacation, or during the first days of a long one? or need teachers be told that it is only a loss of time in the end, to assign at the commencement of the september term lessons of the same length as those which were learned with no difficulty in june? there is a decided inertia in the bodily functions, and time is required for a sudden change. inconvenience in such a case will be sure to arise, unless the surplus force be instantly directed into other and unobjectionable channels. if the reverse takes place, and the demand be suddenly increased, the result is weakness, debility, and finally disease; though precisely the same amount of work might have been done, not only with safety but with positive advantage, provided the increase of the demand had been gradual. is there any country in the world equal to america in the irregularity and spasmodic nature of the demands which society makes upon its women? are there any girls in the world so ready to rush headlong into all kinds of exercise, mental or physical, which may be recommended to them, as our american girls? it is a pity that, to balance our greater amount of fiery energy in the matter of education, we have not a sounder philosophy. once more, physical life is only a balance of forces, as spiritual life is a series of choices, and the question is not simply how much intellectual or brain work we are doing. this question cannot justly be considered apart from the other inquiry, of how much appropriate material we are supplying for the use of the brain. we cannot judge whether the amount of force expended be healthful or unhealthful till we know how much force has been and can be generated. there is undoubtedly a limit to this last factor in our problem, but if we do not exceed this limit in our expenditure, it seems unquestionable, that the more brain work we do, the better will it be for the entire system, and the stronger will be our health, this being only our power actively to resist the destructive forces of nature. the nervous system, at the head of which stands the brain, is undoubtedly the regent of the monarchy of the body, whose sovereign is the thinking spirit; and all the organs in a well-regulated body should be worked in the interest of the organ of thought, as servants for a wise and watchful master. it seems sometimes as if we were in danger of forgetting that though "the eye cannot say unto the hand, i have no need of thee, nor again, the head to the feet, i have no need of you," there will come a time when the thinking spirit, grown to full stature, shall say to all of them, "i have no need any longer of any of you." the consideration of the subject of ventilation properly comes under this division, for pure air is as much food for the body, as meat or bread. this whole matter, however, seems to be practically not well understood, if we may judge from the results so far, and no extended discussion of the means will be in place there. it is sufficient simply to indicate its immense importance. but that bad air is likely to be a more active cause of disease in america than elsewhere seems true, for in no other country are furnaces and closed fire-places in so general use. moreover, the women and girls who spend most of their lives in the house, will be expected to show the evil effects more than the men and boys, who do not. the practical suggestions on this point are apparent to every one. one more thing which the body, to be healthy, demands for food is sun-light, that invaluable medicine for all forms of nervous disease, which americans, more than any other people, curtain carefully out for fear of fading carpets and furniture. but what are french moquettes, brocade, or satin, compared with rosy cheeks, clear complexions, and steady nerves? if we would only draw up the shades, open the shutters, and loop the heavy curtains out of the way, or, better still, take them down altogether, might we not look for a marked improvement in systems affected by nervous diseases? this want of sun-light may be expected also, of course, most to affect those who remain within doors, and who, even in walking, shade themselves with veils and sun-shades from the life-giving rays of the sun. _sleep._--to many of the organs of the body there have been allotted seasons of comparative quiet and repose, even during the day. if the rules for food be observed, the stomach, for instance, has, as stomach, its vacations from labor, by means of which it is enabled to prepare for, and perform, its regularly recurring work with vigor. even with organs where this is not the case, the action is slackened very materially at times, as in the case of the heart and lungs during sleep. they must continue to work, though more slowly, and the part of the nervous system which carries on their involuntary and mechanical action, has also then a partial relief. but the only rest for the thinking brain is to be found in normal sleep. from the instant when, in the morning, we become conscious of the external world, to the instant late at night, or, it may be, early in the morning, when we pass through the gates of sleep, out from companionship, into an utter solitude, it never rests from its work. whether, by volition, we summon all our intellectual power to the closest attention, and turn, as it were, the whole energy of our being into one thought-channel, till the organs of sense become simply outside appendages which disturb the internal self with no imported knowledge, or whether, lying idly, as we say, on the sofa, we let our thoughts wander as they will, thought still goes on. coming and going more rapidly than the shortest pendulum can swing, inter-weaving more subtly than the threads of the most complicated lace under the fingers of the skillful worker; "trains of thought" pass and repass through our minds, following, as we mechanically express it, the laws of association. only in losing consciousness, do we cease to destroy the brain cells; it is only in sleep that the brain can rest. but it must be remembered that the matter which is thus destroyed, is, as maudsley[ ] so finely shows, the very finest result of the creative life-process, the most precious essence. it is like the oil of roses, to produce one drop of which, unnumbered roses must be crushed. the force required to produce a nerve cell is said to be immeasurably greater than that demanded for a cell of muscle, of bone, or of cartilage. in the nerve cells, lies not only the directive force of the whole complicated machinery, but the material with which the creative intelligence must work. let us also remember that our waking hours far outnumber those spent in sleep, and we shall begin to realize the immense importance of sleep, even to the fully developed organism. but when we add to the mere labor of repairing the daily waste, the task of construction, which has to be performed during the years of growth, we shall only deepen the impression. i believe that every school-girl under eighteen years of age, and many over that age, should have at least nine hours of uninterrupted sleep in pure air, and the younger ones need even more. much, at least doubtful, advice, has been given on the subject of early rising. that the system which has, perhaps, taken no food since six in the evening, should be ready for any amount of labor in the morning before breakfast, does not seem a rational conclusion, and i believe that many nervous diseases must be charged to the idea, that there is virtue in early rising, this implying, generally, either work before breakfast, or, at best, a shortening of the hours of sleep. it should, however, be remembered that in some cases, the greater amount of sun-light obtained by rising with the sun, may, and probably does, compensate for lack of other food. but when early rising means, as it often does, rising long before the day begins, this cannot be said, and sooner or later, the over demand upon the system will make itself felt when it is too late to remedy the evil. the habit of _regular_ sleep is also one which should be formed by education. the child who is accustomed to go to bed at a regular hour, will also generally form the habit of falling asleep regularly. if parties for children and young people could be made fashionable under the name of _matinées_, they might not have bad results; but as they are at present carried on, they are an unmitigated evil, and one that is sapping to a fearful degree the nervous force of our girls. what mother would give her little girl a cup of arsenic, no matter how tearfully or earnestly she might plead? the very idea of education lies in the directing of the capricious and irrational instincts, the blind and ignorant forces, into their proper channels, by the rational and enlightened will of the educator. but if, instead of this, the unformed will is made the guide, the very reverse of education is taking place. it makes no difference to the physical forces, however, whether the hours lost from sleep be lost at a party or at a lecture, a sermon, or tableaux for the benefit of foreign missions. nature makes no distinctions of motive. "an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth," is her motto. if one opposes himself to her laws, the offender, not she, goes down; and as sancho panza very wisely remarks, "whether the stone hit the jug, or the jug the stone, it is bad for the jug." it is remarked by all foreigners, that in america the children rule the house. this is simply saying that we are, as a general rule, an uneducated people; which is undoubtedly true. when we learn the immense importance of sleep to the health of our girls, and when we know that our rational convictions should lead them, and not their irrational desires, us, we shall hear less about their breaking down in health as they grow toward maturity. we shall see fewer pale faces and angular forms; though they will probably never, while they live in this climate, acquire the ruddy glow of the englishwoman or the german, or the rounded outlines of the nations of southern europe. _clothing._--with the external form of the dress as to cut, trimming, or color, this essay has nothing to do. unless a dress be cut so low in the neck that it becomes an unhealthful exposure after taking off warmer clothing, it in no wise concerns this branch of the subject. i wish to speak only of the underclothing habitually worn by our girls, and its mode of adjustment; these being, as i believe, the causes of much exhaustion and disease. if technical terms, uncomprehended by any class of readers, be used, it is simply for the sake of brevity; and because, as kant says, "completeness must not be sacrificed to popularity," the attainment of which would be "a didactic triumph, attained only by omitting everything complicated, and saying only what exists already in the consciousness of every one." the two rules for clothing evidently are given when we say, first, that it should be sufficiently warm to prevent the heat generated by the body from being too rapidly lost; and second, that it should be sufficiently loose to allow unimpeded muscular action, whether voluntary or involuntary. but it is very rare to find either of these rules observed by girls, and it is also rare to find mothers who are aware that their daughters are daily violating them. first, as to the warmth: every girl who is to be reared in this climate of extremes and sudden changes should wear shirt and drawers of wool next her body, and woolen stockings, during at least eight months of the year.[ ] the merino underclothing, so generally worn, is preferable to cotton or linen, but all-wool flannel is far better; and if trouble is anticipated from shrinking and fulling, the use of red flannel will prevent this entirely. i am not speaking of becomingness and grace; i am speaking of health and conservation of force. each organism can generate but a certain amount of vital force, and if a large proportion of this has to be expended in keeping up the even temperature of the body, a smaller part than otherwise will go to the carrying on of the other functions. but relieve the system from the continual drafts made upon it, resulting from insufficient clothing, and it will be able to assume duties to which before it found itself inadequate. some exceptions must be made to this statement in the case of those to whose skins flannel proves an irritant--but they are comparatively few; and even in these cases the flannel could be worn outside, if not inside, of the cotton or linen underclothing. the mother who will see to it that from her earliest years the girl is protected, over all parts of her body, by flannel underclothing, may simply prevent evils which, afterwards, she and the most skilful physician combined will find themselves unable to overcome. but the facts are, that, from the earliest days of life, when the dimpled neck and arms must be admired by visitors, through the days of childhood, when, dressed during the coldest weather of winter in linen and white cambric or piqué, with her body unprotected from the chill, the little girl is led slowly and properly up fifth avenue, to the nights when, heated by dancing, she exposes bare neck, shoulders and arms to draughts of cool air, she is, as a general rule, never warmly enough dressed for our climate. i repeat, then, that for proper protection a girl should always be, during at least eight months of our year, clothed, body, arms, legs, and feet, in wool; and pass to the second thought on the subject--_i.e._, clothing with regard to the mechanical effects of pressure. we have been continually told that our girls ought not to wear corsets. it has been well said by some woman, that if a man could succeed in fashioning a woman exactly as, according to his theories, she ought to be fashioned, he would not admire her after the work was done; and though the remark was made only with regard to intellectual education, it can be well applied to this subject of corsets. if now, at this present moment, all women were to satisfy this demand, and leave off their corsets, the very men who entreated them to do so, would at once entreat them to resume them. the truth is, that it is not the corsets in themselves that are injurious; they become so only when they are so tightly drawn that they prevent free inspiration, or when, by their great pressure, they force the yielding ribs from their normal curve, compress the lungs, and displace the organs of the abdomen, crowding them into the pelvis, and thus displacing or bending out of shape the organs therein contained. let the girls keep on their corsets, but instead of the unyielding cotton, linen, or silk braid, let these be laced by round silk elastic cord. they will then give support where it is needed, and yet will yield freely to the expansion of the chest, returning again as the air is expelled, and so preventing discomfort. this is a very simple expedient, and yet perfectly successful, and the girl who has tried it for three days will discard the inelastic braid forever. i say elastic cord, and not ribbon, because the elastic ribbon is too strong, and does not sufficiently yield. girls do not know that they dress too tightly. they will repel indignantly the idea that they "lace;" and yet, if they be asked to take a full inhalation, it becomes perfectly evident that the outside resistance is a very positive element. to prove this, it is only necessary for them to put on their corsets laced as above described, and then try to button the dress. it will, in nine hundred and ninety-nine cases out of a thousand, be found, i think, that the dress, which before came together without the slightest difficulty, will no longer meet. there is necessary no other proof that an unnatural pressure has been habitually used, although, from the very fact that it has been so long habitual, the girls are entirely unconscious of it. the chinese women, i suppose, are not conscious of their compressed feet, and the two cases are exactly parallel. no dressmaker knows the meaning of the words "loosely fitting." she is not to be blamed. she looks at her work with an artistic eye, as a parisian glove-fitter looks at his, and wrinkles are the one thing which she spends her life in striving to avoid; and, as a general thing, she is not a student of wordsworth to the extent of assuming as her motto, "nor shall she fail to see, even in the motions of the storm, grace that shall mould the maiden's form by silent sympathy." it is not enough to say to the dressmaker, "make it perfectly easy and comfortable," and then trust to her judgment that it will be all right. the only test for a girl's clothing, as to tightness, should be, "can you take a good, full breath, and not feel your clothes?" if so, they are loose enough; if not, let them out, and keep on letting them out till you can. nor is there the slightest need that this kind of dressing involve "dowdiness," or "slouchiness," a characteristic abhorrent to every true woman. every woman expresses her character in her dress; and where "slouchiness" exists, it means something more than comfortable dressing. it means a lack of neatness and order, a want in the ideas of suitability. it is sure to manifest itself in other ways, and will not be prevented by dresses never so tightly fitting. the next thing to be considered is the place of proper support for the voluminous clothing below the waist. this gives a certain definite weight in pounds and ounces larger than is generally supposed, and as a result of the law of gravitation, it would all fall if the tendency were not counteracted by a corresponding pressure. this pressure is almost universally being sustained by our girls at the hips, and it comes just where the trunk has no longer, except in the spinal column, any bony support, depending alone on the yielding muscles. it is idle to assert that the corsets support the dependent weight. in the old times, when corsets had shoulder-straps, this assertion might have had a shadow of truth, but now, when they never have them, their weight must simply be added to the total amount of weight of skirts, to find the number of pounds of downward pressure. they serve only as a kind of fender to prevent the tightly tied skirts from cutting into the muscle, and therefore, conducing to prevent discomfort, only serve to delude the girl into the belief that they hold up her skirts. this weight, evidently, should be borne by the shoulders, where the firmly-jointed skeleton, upheld from below, offers a firm and safe support. but give a girl shoulder-straps, and she finds the pressure over so small an area on the shoulders unbearable, and besides, the process of dressing becomes then a matter of almost as much complication as the harnessing of a horse, when some inexperienced person has done the unharnessing. suspenders, though answering the purpose perfectly for men, will not answer for women, and even when made especially for them, are found inconvenient. the girl should wear, over her corsets, an under-waist, fitted precisely like the waist-lining of a dress as to seams and "biases," or "darts." it should be made of strong shirting, neatly corded at neck and "arm-seyes," and finished around the waist by a binding of the width of an ordinary belt, set up over the waist so as to have three thicknesses of cloth for buttons. to these buttons, four or more in number, the skirts should be hung. the weight comes then on the shoulders, and is evenly distributed there, so that it is not felt. this statement, of course, implies, that the waists are sufficiently large. moreover, which is only an incidental matter, the waist answers as a corset-cover, and as a dress-protector at the same time, and in the winter, when dresses cannot be washed, it becomes a matter of necessity to have something to answer the latter purpose. in the summer, when low linings are desirable, these waists can, of course, be made low in the neck. the shoulder-support then becomes narrower, but on the other hand, the weight of the clothing to be supported is very much less than in the winter, so that no inconvenience will be found. these waists themselves can then, if desired, take the place of linings for thin summer dresses, and if this be done, another incidental advantage will be the greater ease and nicety with which muslins and calicoes can be "done up." it should be borne in mind, that within twenty years the weight of the dress-skirt has been also laid upon the hips. before that time, our dress-waists and skirts were made in one. of late years they have almost never been so made; that is to say, the shoulders have had, so to speak, absolutely nothing to do, and the hips and waist, everything. in any case, skirts should be furnished with buttons, not strings. it is too easy to draw a string a little tighter than it should be drawn. another fashion which our girls have adopted of late years, should be spoken of. as if they had gone to work to discover the only way in which pressure could be increased, they have discarded the old fashion of gartering the stockings, and have buttoned these up by bands of strong elastic ribbon, to a band placed around the waist. this arrangement, it seems to me, exhausts all the possibilities of dragging pressure around the waist, and in this view, it may be looked upon as a negatively encouraging feature. they have, certainly, in respect to the support of clothing, done their very worst. they are trying to the full their powers of endurance, and any change must be for the better. i was not to speak of external dress, but the skirt of the outside dress, by the present fashion, must be taken into consideration; and of its probable weight any skilful person, who has any idea of the weight of bugles and dry-goods, may make an estimate for himself, though his estimate will probably fall far short of the truth.[ ] if our girls are to walk the same streets with their brothers, is there any reason why the soles of their shoes should not be of equal thickness? and yet no man would think of wearing, at any time, except for house slippers, soles as thin as those which many of our girls habitually wear. boston is much more satisfactory than new york in this particular, if the contents of the merchant's shelves are a safe index of the desires of his customers. this is a matter which has been often spoken of, and yet one which mothers and daughters seem practically to ignore. girls should be educated to wear clothing suitable to the time and place, and then their "habituated instincts" will lead them to demand and wear shoes of proper thickness. enough. it cannot be too often repeated that a girl may call for anxiety, and often break in health at the time when she develops into a woman, not because of the special demand for strength made at that time, but because the demands on the general system for strength have been, for twelve or fifteen years, greater than the system could supply. it is not the last straw that breaks the camel's back, but it is all the straws. the mother who has educated her daughter into a healthy appetite for food, as to quality and quantity; who has educated her into a healthy appetite for sleep; who has, through constant watchfulness over her clothing, assured herself that no undue demands were made upon the strength of sustaining muscles, and the constructive and repairing power of the general vital force, has no need of hours of anxiety as to the girl's health, and will find no critical periods in her life, for the hours of anxiety have already been represented by minutes of wise and rational supervision in all the previous years, and need not be spent over again. exercise. bodily exercise is in one sense a means of repair, inasmuch as it quickens the circulation and respiration, and makes the whole organism more active. the old maxim that exercise strengthens every power must not be overlooked, as the arm of the rower or the wrist of the confirmed croquet-player will testify. but it must also be remembered, and this is a matter of prime importance, that it is only _judicious_ exercise which gives strength; and by judicious exercise is meant that in which the parts exercised are not too steadily on the strain, and that which is regular. for instance, continual standing in one spot is not judicious exercise for either man or woman, because the muscles whose contraction is required to maintain the body in an upright position, are kept for too long a time in a state of action; the continual tension prevents the free passage of the blood, and the uniformity of the circulation is destroyed. continual standing, in the teaching profession at least, has broken down many a man as well as many a woman. with women, and especially with growing women, the danger is greater, resulting, of course, from the greater breadth of the pelvis and the less physical strength; and any woman who persists in it, simply exhibits an amount of recklessness which can be cured only by her own experience, and never by the advice of others.[ ] if she had been better educated, she would know better and act more wisely. secondly, exercise which is irregular or is used spasmodically, is not judicious. if, for instance, our girls had from their earliest childhood and during many months of the year, been accustomed to skating, no harm would probably result from it. but when, as was the case some twenty years ago, a sudden fashion sprang up for this exercise, and girls in all parts of the northern states insisted upon learning to skate, with untrained muscles, and to skate for hours together during the freezing intervals of our uncertain climate, an immense amount of harm was actually done, the results of which multitudes of women in boston and new york are to-day enduring. there are, it is to be presumed, forms of exercise which are not judicious from their very nature; but i find myself at a loss to name any one which girls desire, or in which they indulge, that would properly fall under this class, unless it be sewing and washing. whenever our girls have been injured by physical exercise of muscle or nerve, it has been, probably, because the exercise taken has been injudicious in one of the senses above defined. even with regard to the stair-climbing, which our modern houses make a necessity, the harm generally comes from the fact that too many flights are ascended at once, or that the lifting of the weight of the body through the twenty, or forty, or sixty feet is too rapidly performed. but long flights of stairs are a necessity where land is so dear that, though a man may buy an unlimited extension up and down, he can usually afford to purchase little on a horizontal plane, and thus, to our city-bred girls, at least, the necessity of climbing stairs exists from their earliest attempts at walking, so that stair-climbing may, by my second limitation, come under the head of judicious exercise. it were, however, well to inquire whether there are not different sets of muscles called into requisition in this universal exercise by different individuals, and whether children should not be so educated in climbing, that they may lift the unavoidable weight rather by straightening the knee than by making undue demands, as many do, on other muscles not so well placed to bear it. it seems to me that there is a great difference in this respect in different persons. it were also well that architects should remember that shallow steps may be, and, indeed, generally are, much more fatiguing than steps of the usual height, for the very reason that an _unusual_ demand is made, a greater number of volitions or impulses required, for a given height. a greater width in the step, also, makes the effort more difficult--partly for the same reason, and partly because a greater and unusual effort has to be made to throw the body forward at the same time that it is lifted up. to dancing, in itself, no objection can be made. freed from its almost inevitable accompaniments of late hours, thin dresses, and irregular food, it is undoubtedly beneficial. but when we are better educated, so that we shall appreciate the absolute necessity of a strict and rational regimen of food, sleep, and clothing for the individual while yet immature, this matter will be righted, and only then. there is one additional objection to be urged, however, against parties for young people, which is not generally spoken of, though we all know practically that one of the first preparations for an entertainment of this kind consists in sending at least almost all the chairs and sofas out of the rooms which are to be used, and the dancing may not do as much harm as the enforced standing. the woman who has to stand behind the counter, or behind the bookkeeper's desk, or at her loom in the factory, may, perhaps, accustom herself in a measure to the daily strain; but the girl to whom it is an irregular exercise, and who, besides, is probably over-excited as to her nerves, cannot fail to suffer, though the blame is not, as a general rule, laid where it belongs. there is another exercise which has come into vogue within twenty years, a game against which it is reckoned heresy to speak slightingly--i mean croquet--which certainly involves an amount of standing vastly disproportioned to the amount of exercise which it gives. this, together with the fact that it is likely to be played during only a few months of the year, and often on damp ground, and for an unreasonable length of time, may, perhaps, furnish an apology for wounding so large a number of feelings as one must wound who has the heart to venture a caution concerning it. it seems to be peculiarly well described by saying that it is "the game which tires without exercising." to skating i have already referred for the purpose of illustration. it is gravely to be doubted whether, in our changeable climate, where, moreover, it can be practiced during only a very few months in the year, it does not do more harm than good. horseback riding, rowing, and bowling are very valuable, provided that they be judiciously used. but there is one exercise to which no doubt attaches, one which can be regular, and hence judicious. this is walking; and the fact that so few of our girls and women really enjoy it, that so few are capable of walking four or five miles without fatigue, and that they come in, after a walk of one mile, jaded and tired, instead of invigorated, points to a grave error of omission in their education. the walk of the little girl should be so regular a thing, so much a part of the day's routine, that she would as soon think of dispensing with her morning bath as of passing a day without it.[ ] healthy children of three years old, who are educated to walk regularly, can, as i know by actual careful observation, walk two miles at once without fatigue, coming in at the close, brighter and more active than when they set out. this matter of walking is a matter which, as well as sleep, food and clothing, belongs to education; and if the girl does not enjoy walking--nay, if she does not demand it with as sharp an appetite as she has for her food and sleep, it is generally because she has not been properly and rationally educated. if it is said that it is "not natural" for some to like to walk, the only proper answer to the objection would be that the question whether a thing is natural or not is not at all pertinent, and involves an entire misunderstanding of education itself. the very essence of civilization, of morality, and of religion, consists in the overruling and directing of the merely natural. by nature, man is not man at all. only in so far as by force of spirit he overcomes, rules, and directs the nature in him, can he lay any claim to manhood. education, physical, intellectual, moral or religious, is in its process only this directing of what is natural for us. its material is the natural man; its result is the spiritual man; its process is the rationally-directed transition from the former to the latter. between the helpless infant, aimlessly stretching out its feeble arms, and the well-trained and fully-developed man; between the mind of the savage who roams the forest, and the mind of bacon or shakespeare; between the brute who strikes down his wife as he would knock over a stick of wood in his way, and the physician who stands at his post, tenderly and wisely caring for the fever-stricken patients in the memphis hospitals, laying down his life for strangers; between the man who follows the caprice of this or that moment, as a desire for present pleasure may suggest, and the noblest christian who daily sacrifices his own to the divine will, there is but one difference--that of education. the natural part of any one of us is, in any significant sense, simply the uneducated part. if a certain course of action is once recognized as rational, it is unnecessary to state that it is "not natural," and the formation of rational _habits_ of body, as of mind, these habits which constitute our second and better nature, is the very work with which education is concerned. there is room, however, for misunderstanding here, and this i must pause to guard against; i must not be interpreted as saying that all natural feelings or actions are to be crushed out by a cold, reasoning logic. but it must be remembered that every virtue has its negative representative, and that this negative phase is simply and only the same virtue, but in an uneducated state, and not at all another and different thing; as, for instance, license is not different in its essence from self-control--it is only uneducated self-control. obstinacy is merely uneducated firmness, and the worst forms of barbarous superstition are but the outcome of uneducated reverence. the lawlessness and bravado of our american children and youth, so severely commented upon by foreigners, are simply an index of the uneducated state of the greatest amount of directive force that the world has ever seen. a fatal error is committed in education when this central truth is overlooked, as when one treats these manifestations as in themselves wrong, instead of recognizing their value, and bending the energies in their proper direction. if a missionary should begin his work by destroying in the mind of the savage all reverence for his own and only gods, he would have sawed off the branch on which he himself hoped to stand, and it were wise for him to make his escape from the country as soon as possible. sexual education. up to the period of life at which the sexes diverge, that is, up to the time when the boy becomes a man and the girl a woman, the physical system pursues the even tenor of development, broken only by the two marked advances of the cutting of the first and second teeth. but now, the strength of the general system is supposed, in the counsels of the creator, to have attained sufficient strength and firmness to be fully capable of assuming a new duty. in both sexes, organs up to this time quiescent, that is, as to any functional action, take on rapidly an independent life, assert their own character, and take up their peculiar work. heretofore, all the physical development of the child has been for self alone; the gradual growth of each organism has pointed to nothing outside; each has been in a manner isolated. but now we have a foreshadowing of a nobler meaning to human life, for man is not to be alone, an isolated individual; he attains his highest significance only in relation to others.[ ] i say it is supposed that by thirteen or fourteen years of steady _educated_ growth, the system in both sexes has acquired strength enough to assume this last duty; and if this growth has been educated growth in both sexes, it does do so. i am considering, however, only the girls, and all that is said hereafter must be understood as applying specially to them. it makes its first trial of its newly acquired power, and, in a well-trained organism, such as we are thankful to know are yet found in our own country, it does do so with as little effort, with as little outer disturbance of the general system as is manifested when the first new tooth cuts through the gum of the seven year old little girl. if it is asserted that such cases are rare, i can only answer that such is not the testimony of other women of large acquaintance, whom i have consulted; and that even if they were, the sufficient answer to the statement would be that cases of girls who have been physically thoroughly educated, are equally rare. no impression can be given to american women which will tend more directly towards producing the opposite result in our girls, than one which should lead them to believe thoroughly that this last period of development is necessarily a period of great physical or mental disturbance. american women have common sense enough to know that they must submit to the inevitable, but they have also common sense enough to fight against, and to conquer, what is not inevitable, provided it is not desirable; and if what i have said above could become the conviction of every american woman as thoroughly as it is that of some of them, we should in thirteen more years be able to prove it by innumerable cases. every woman who knows it and acts upon the knowledge in educating her daughter, thereby becomes a benefactor to her country and her race. we all know that many a baby cuts all its first teeth without any trouble, noticeable nervous excitement, or derangement of any of the bodily functions. we know, also, that large numbers are sick; that large numbers die, showing, that where the organism is weak, it is unable to carry on the new and sudden process without over-action, since we have only a limited quantity of vital force. over-action in one part, is inevitably under-action in another, and either is but another name for, and not the cause of, disease.[ ] we know that a larger proportion of children cut their second teeth without any disturbance, and this result was to be expected; for the terrible, and yet most merciful hand of death, seven years before, had thinned the ranks by transplanting the weakest to a clime where the burden of the body is not a hindrance, and had left us only the strongest for the second trial. we know also, however, that many children do suffer from nervous irritability, and from weakness in other directions at this time. if it is the digestive or respiratory organs that manifest the strain, the child is tenderly cared for; if the over-action is in the nervous system, we "wonder what possesses the child," and she, probably, is sent out of the room, or punished in some other way, in word or act. when the third and last especial and exceptional work takes place, we may expect the same results, and we find them. up to seven years of age, however, the little girl's life has been comparatively a healthful one, at least as far as sleep is concerned. as far as clothing affects freedom of motion, she has also, probably, not suffered, though when she has walked in our chilly winter and damp spring air, she has had interposed between her body and the climatic influences only a defence of one thickness of cotton, while her brother has been carefully guarded by thickly woven woolen garments. but from seven to fourteen, the deteriorating causes in the average american family increase rapidly in intensity, in fact, much faster than the increase of the growing strength. the food remains nearly the same, though even this is not always the case, for the times at which it is taken often become somewhat more irregular, and its material more varied and innutritious; her hours of sleep are considerably curtailed, from different causes; her clothing, while not increasing in warmth and thickness, is drawn closer, and, in addition to this, the brain is set definitely to work in actual study. is it not manifest, that while the demands upon the vital force have been increased, the supply of material has been decreased? if this have been the case, she arrives at the period when the third and last demand is to be made on her growing power, with not force enough to assume the additional work, and in consequence she shows signs of disease. and then, forgetting all the previous want of education, we either tacitly assume that god treats his children as pharaoh treated the israelites in his unreasonable demands, or, holding to our faith in him, we seize upon the first cause that presents itself to our startled vision. because the education of the body has had for a long time, in our thought, an importance secondary to the education of the mind, we very naturally seize upon the latter as the cause of the evil, and remove the girl from school. one is here almost tempted to wish that the mind might be proved only a "mode of matter," if, by that means, the body might be raised up to the level of our mental horizon, and within the circle of our rational sympathy, for if we knew that matter and mind were the same, the matter of which our bodies are composed might then secure a chance for respectful and rational attention. but there are here other considerations of immense importance which must not be overlooked, and it is to these that any rational treatment of the subject must turn its main attention. besides laying the foundation of trouble at this time, in a neglect of proper physical education for thirteen years back, we have also taken pains to lay it in too great an attention to mental education for exactly the same number of years. it must not be forgotten that the little girl, as she looks out for the first time through her intelligence-lighted eyes, by taking notice of anything, while she lies in her mother's arms, looks out upon a vast and complicated world of civilization, of which she is entirely ignorant, and that, from the very fact that she is "the heir of all the ages," she has to make acquaintance with her inheritance. to the baby, the light, all sounds, its cradle, the room, its own moving fingers, its mother's face, are vast regions of unexplored knowledge. there is absolutely nothing, however small, which is common or customary, and, as she grows older, to the three year old child even, a walk down one of our avenues, or the examination of a bureau drawer, is as exciting as a journey in a fairy palace. in fact, the whole world around her is merely one vast fairy palace, in which miracles are continually occurring, quite as astonishing and exciting as the appearance of the genies at the rubbing of the wonderful lamp. and her world grows every day fuller and wider and more enchanting, just as the hazy cloud of the milky way unfolds and reveals itself to us under more and more powerful telescopes into star-dust, into myriads of distinct shining points, into stars and suns; and, under the telescopes of reasoning science, into worlds separated by distances so great, that "the imagination sinks exhausted," and very properly. now, if any one will recall the sensation with which she first looked through a powerful telescope at this sight, she will then understand the state in which the brain of the little girl lives, as a continual atmosphere, and she will have no need to ask herself whether it is needful or allowable to add much cause for activity to that brain, for, at least, the first seven years of its life. if mothers could only go to walk themselves with their little girls more often, instead of sending their ignorant nurses, they would comprehend this more fully. the fact that they do not "want to be bothered" with the child, only shows that they are dimly conscious of the truth, though their action testifies that they do not appreciate its significance. it is not necessary to speak only of city life here, for a walk along a country road keeps the little three year old girl in a state of continual high excitement. is there not the wonderful thistle-down to be blown away, and the flight of each silken-winged seed to be watched with anxious eyes? are there not clusters of purple and white asters in unexpected places? are not the steep and dangerous rocky precipices by the side of the way to be daringly scaled and slid down? do not the geese live in this pasture, and the sheep and the one solitary pig in that? the raspberry vines droop their rosy fruit into her hand, the tall, big, golden-rods snap their stalks so unexpectedly when she bends them, while she finds herself unable to gather the slender grasses. then there are such charming nooks for hiding, among the ferns and hazel-bushes, and the bits of mica glistening all along the road are each of a different size and shape, and must be carefully collected. the toad startles her as it leaps out of the road, the grasshoppers strike her face, and wonderful people drive by in wonderful machines, drawn by vast and wonderful animals. the amount of knowledge which an intelligent child will accumulate during seven weeks' stay in a quiet country town, alone can measure the amount of brain activity which has been carried on for that time; and yet we drive and force this activity from her earliest years, when we ought only to direct it. we exhibit her in her babyhood to crowds of admiring and exciting friends, we overwhelm her with an unreasonable number and variety of exciting toys, we tease her to repeat her little sayings for the amusement of grown people, and lastly, we send her to school to be still more excited, and to have vast additional fields of knowledge of a different kind open to her. the fact is, that no child is ready to go to school till she has had time enough allowed for the dazzling and exciting illumination which pervades the atmosphere of childhood, to "die away and fade into the light of common day." we send children to school--or rather we begin voluntarily to teach them, too early by several years, and the only result is that the brain is "too early overstrained, and in consequence of such precocious and excessive action, the foundation for a morbid excitation of the whole nervous system is laid in earliest childhood." as far as the home-life fosters this over-activity, that is, before the time of school life, i think it will be readily acknowledged that this showing-off process is applied with greater force to girls than to boys. the boy is left more to his own devices, but the girl must be made to contribute more to the general amusement of the family, and she must learn "to make herself useful." it is true that to be of service to others, in a rational sense, should be her ruling motive of action, but one may, perhaps, question whether such early expectation, in such ways, be not, at least, "penny wise and pound foolish." to this cause may be attributed a great part of the failure in the health at the last special time of development. as to the mental progress made, john stuart mill may, as he says, have entered life "a quarter of a century in advance of his contemporaries," but was he a quarter of a century ahead of others of his own age when he left it? the question is at least suggestive of the truth. but, with the development of the organs which are so indissolubly associated with the deepest feelings and with the mental powers, there is also a corresponding mental development. not only does "the blood rush more vigorously, the muscular strength become more easily roused into activity, but an indefinable impulse takes possession of the whole being," and a great excitation of the imagination also is perceivable. just here, then, the educator recognizes a duty. this increased force, which we could not prevent if we would, and would not if we could, must be guided into rational channels--and here i have to speak of a branch of the subject which is not often considered. i mean the duty of the mother, who is in this department the proper educator, to speak earnestly, fully, and plainly to the girl of the mysterious process of reproduction. rosenkranz[ ] says, somewhere, that when any nation has advanced far enough in culture to inquire whether it is fit for freedom, the question is already answered; and in the same way, when a girl, in her thought, has arrived at the point of asking earnest questions on this subject, she is fit to be answered. but just here let me call attention to the infinite importance, in this part of education, of perfect confidence and freedom between mother and daughter, and to the equally important fact, that this confidence which does exist at the beginning of life, if once lost, can never fully be restored. if there is a shade of reserve on the part of the girl, it will manifest itself just here and now. instead of seeking the information which she really desires, at its only proper source, at that source whence she would receive it pure, and invested with a feeling of reverence and sanctity, of which she could never divest herself, she seeks it elsewhere. she picks it up piece-meal in surreptitious and clandestine ways, as if it were some horrible mystery which must, from its very nature, be covered up from the light of day. she talks it over with her young companions in secrecy, and the charm of mystery keeps her thoughts unduly brooding upon the subject. in old times, and even now, in other countries, the danger was not, is not, so great. foreign girls have a much closer supervision exercised over them, and their life in the nursery is far less nerve-stimulating than that of american children. they do not ask questions so early as the american girl, and when they do, they have at hand not nearly so many sources of information. if this all-necessary love and confidence is unbroken, and if the mother have been so educated herself, that she recognizes the importance of the moment, and has the requisite knowledge, there is no danger at all. the occasion is seized, and her womanly, "clear, and dignified statement, destroys all the false halo with which the youthful fancy is so prone to surround the process of reproduction, and, at this time, the fancy is very active with relation to whatever pertains to it." i do not for one moment forget that i am speaking of physical education. the physical consequences of mistakes on this point are decided. by the continual dwelling of the imagination on this subject--of the imagination, i say, for there can be no thought where there is no clearness--the blood is diverted to these organs, and hence, "the brain and spinal cord, which develop so rapidly at this period, are not led to a proper strength. the easily-moulded material is perverted to the newly-aroused reproductive organs," and the preternatural activity thus produced is physical disease. but more than this: i should be fairly accused of quitting the physical for the moral side of education here, if it were not that i am now upon ground, where, more than on any other, body and soul, matter and spirit, touch each other, and it is very difficult, if not impossible, to draw the dividing line. the inter-action of the two upon each other here becomes so rapid and intense, that one scarcely knows the relation of cause and effect. i repeat--more than this: the patched and medley knowledge of the young girl to whom her mother does not speak, comes to her garbled and confused, the sacred seal of modesty torn off, soiled with the touch of vulgar hands, defaced by the coarse jests of polite society, its sanctity forever missed. the temple has been invaded, its white floors trodden by feet from muddy alleys, the gods thrown down. is not the temple as much ruined when this profanation has been accomplished, as if the walls had fallen? i will not be misunderstood as doubting, for one moment, the purity of soul of american girls as a whole; but i assert, that the result of which i have spoken is terribly common in our large cities, and that it is much more likely to be common in america than in any other country, from the effect of our climate, our free institutions, and the almost universal diffusion of printed matter. the remedy lies alone in the hands of the mother, and, where a girl is away from her mother, in the hands of her woman guardian, whoever she may be. when our women are better educated, there will be less prudery and more real modesty.[ ] when the minds of our girls and women are kept busy on other things, they will have no time for this most dangerous brooding. most truly does schiller say: "_in müssiger weile schafft der böse geist_," and he spares neither body nor soul. it is always asserted that woman makes and rules society. when our women are better educated themselves, their righteous indignation will banish forever from all conversation in which they have a part, the fashionable jests on subjects which do not admit of jest, and the _doubles entendres_ whose power to excite a smile consists in their vulgar and profane suggestions. they are as common in companies of average women as in companies of average men, and they evidence thoughts, and are themselves as much coarser and lower than the outspoken utterances of shakespeare's ideal women--whom they assume to criticise and condemn--as the smooth and subtle rhymes of swinburne and joaquin miller are below the poetry of chaucer and spenser. closely connected with this part of my subject is that of the reading in which girls are passively allowed to indulge. how large a proportion of mothers and guardians exercise anything which can be called watchful care as to what books and papers the children shall read; and yet the booksellers' shelves groan under the weight of the most dissipating, weakening, and insidious books that can possibly be imagined; and newspapers which ought never to enter any decent house, lie on the tables of many a family sitting-room. any one who will take the trouble to examine the records of any large circulating library, will be astounded at the immense demand which there is for these average novels. and in our parlors and chambers to-day, myriads of little girls are curled up in corners, poring over such reading--stories of complicated modern society, the very worst kind of reading for a child--stories "whose exciting pages delight in painting the love of the sexes for each other, and its sensual phases." and the mothers do not know what they are reading; and the children answer, when asked what they read, "oh, anything that comes along." how find a remedy for this evil? how stem this tide of insidious poison that is sapping the strength of body and mind? how, but by educating their taste till they shall not desire such trash, and shall only be disgusted with it, if by chance it fall under their eyes? how, but by giving their minds steady and regular work? if the work be intermittent, it will, under the general principles laid down in the remarks on exercise, not only be, from that fact, injurious to the brain, but it will afford, at the most susceptible period of life, leisure for reveries which can lead only to evil, moral and physical. but give our girls steady and regular work of muscle and brain, a rational system of exercise for both, so that the "motor and nervous systems may weary themselves in action, and may be desirous of rest," and evil will be not only prevented, but cured, if existing. even if these trashy books, which we find everywhere, not excepting the sunday-school libraries, be not actually exciting and immoral in tone and sentiment, they are so vapid, so utterly without purpose or object, so devoid of any healthy vigor and life, that they are simply dissipating to the power of thought, and hence weakening to the will. no one needs to be told how great is the influence of the will over physical health, and any weakening of it tends inevitably to a slackening of all the vital forces, by which alone we preserve health, or even life itself. all such books can be kept out of a house, and their entrance should be guarded against far more vigorously than we oppose the entrance of noxious gases, or even of draughts of pure air. some of us, many of us, have reason to be grateful that in our fathers' houses no such books were to be found. poets were there, novelists were there in abundance, but of such poisonous and weakening literature, no trace; and as we are grateful to our parents for the care and simple regimen which preserved our physical health for us, we thank them also for the care which kept out of our way the mental food which they knew to be injurious, and for which they themselves had been too well educated to have any taste. the possession, through the instrumentality of education, of simple and healthy appetite and taste, physical and mental, is the most valuable gift that the father, that the mother, can give their children, a gift in comparison with which a legacy of millions of dollars sinks into utter insignificance. and a tithe of the thought and care which are expended in accumulating and investing property on the part of the one, a tithe of the care and thought used on dress on the part of the other, would serve to secure it! the exclusively american habit of taking young girls to fashionable resorts for the summer should also be alluded to here. no custom could be more injurious than this in the influences of food, clothing and sleep, which it almost inevitably brings; and added to these, girls in idleness, and left to amuse themselves, are often in such places thrown into contact with persons of both sexes, whose conversation is the worst possible in its effect on mind and body.[ ] but, according to the general principle of education, we must not repress imagination in one direction without furnishing it some rational food in another; for education, as has been said, consists not in destroying but in training the natural man, and any system which aims at destroying any natural impulse only defeats its own end. for this purpose, and at this period of life, it were well to draw the imagination to "the enjoyment of the beautiful through an actual contemplation of it, and for this purpose the study of painting and sculpture is of pre-eminent value. * * * * * through their means the allurement which the wholly or especially the half-undraped form has for us, becomes softened and purified. the enjoyment of beauty itself is the enjoyment of something divine; and it is only through a coarse, indecent, and already infected imagination, belonging to a general sensuality, that it degenerates into excitement."[ ] "let our artists rather be those who are gifted to discern the true nature of beauty and grace, amid fair sights and sounds; and beauty, the effluence of fair works, will meet the sense like a breeze, and insensibly draw the soul, even in childhood, into harmony with the beauty of reason."[ ] there is another matter which can scarcely be passed over in silence in this discussion, but the evil effects of which are seldom recognized. there are many men in middle life against whose character no whisper has ever dared to raise itself, men of culture and power, men of strong personal "magnetism"--i use the term because no other will express exactly what i mean--who often attract the almost idolatrous admiration of young girls and young women. they may do this at first unconsciously; but they are pleased by it finally, and seem to enjoy being surrounded, as it were, by a circle of young incense-bearers, and they seem to see no harm in, to say the least, passively permitting this excessive, sentimental, and unnatural admiration. no harm is done? but harm is done, and that of the most insidious character. there is a time in the life of a majority of girls and boys when the half-conscious and just awakening spirit is, as it were, casting around in every direction for a some one, they know not who;[ ] and if at this time the young girl comes under the influence of one of these men, she is likely to fall into a most unnatural and morbid state; and the man, whoever he be, that shows himself pleased by such adoration and devotion, who does not by the force of loyalty to the simple right, persistently and quietly repel, and effectually repel, all such tribute, is responsible for much harm, and must answer for much unhappiness. the remedy would lie in an education for these girls which should be sound and healthful; in ample, active employment of the thought in other directions. the safeguard, however, lies in the mother's hands. no mother who holds the unquestioned confidence of her daughter need ever fear for her in this or any other way. so long as the girl knows that she can go fearlessly to her mother with all her thoughts and fancies, foolish though they be, so long as she is never repelled or shut up within herself by ridicule or want of comprehension, so long she is as safe, wherever she may be and into whatever companionship fallen, as if fenced about with triple walls of steel. but let that perfect confidence which should subsist between mother and daughter be once lost or disturbed; let the girl once fear to think aloud to her mother, and the charm is broken, and dangers encompass her around. no thoughtful woman can see a girl, thus alone, carried away by her impulsive feeling, devoting herself to the worship of some prominent man who dares to encourage or permit such tribute, without longing to step between and defend her, as spenser's britomart did the innocent amoret from what she knows is the unseen, unfelt, and yet real danger. as to direct physical care of themselves, american girls between fourteen and twenty-one are to be ruled only through their own convictions on the side of prudence, for they will not, as has been before said, blindly obey what seem to them arbitrary rules, as the girls of some other nations can be easily made to do. the american mother is not so likely to say to her daughter, "you must not go to this party," as, "do you think you had better go?" if a girl, then, is made to know that when any organ is in a congested and softened state it is much more likely to be injured than at other times, she will not, while this is the case, if previously properly educated on the will side, draw her dress tightly around her yielding form, and stand or dance at a party for hours together; she will not skate for hours; she will probably not ride for hours on a trotting horse; she will not take long walks; she will not race violently upstairs, or plunge violently down, because she has been taught to believe that no one can with impunity array her individual will against the laws of nature; and thus two of the most frequent causes of trouble, which are displacements or the bending forward of any organ, will be avoided. if she persists in trying experiments, she will not be obliged to experiment for a very long time in order to satisfy herself that the wisdom of ancient tradition is of more value than her individual opinion; but the girl who has been properly educated for fourteen years has already made this discovery. however, if, after all advice, any one should persist in so unreasonable a course, she is, when fully grown, a rational and responsible being, and, as such, is answerable alone to herself and to her creator for the marring of his workmanship. what folly, what worse than folly, should we think it in the managers of a steamship to intrust the care of the machinery to an engineer who knew nothing of its construction, or of the way in which the parts act upon one another; and yet, the mother who leaves her daughter in ignorance, and then does not carefully guard her herself, is guilty of worse than this; and when the evil is done, the advice of the wisest physician can only be the enjoinment of the very sanitary rules which she herself should have long before enforced; for "the true method of sexual education must remain that which has been always hitherto spoken of, that of correct living." footnotes: [ ] mrs. e. m. king, _contemporary review_, dec., , in an article on "coöperative housekeeping." [ ] _principles of political economy_, mill. american ed., d. appleton & co., vol. i., p. . [ ] _body and mind_, d ed., p. . [ ] referring to new york, boston, or places on same isotherm. [ ] i have never seen the actual figures given on this subject, and in the interest of positive science, therefore, subjoin the following, which any one can easily verify for herself. the following articles, viz., merino and cotton drawers, flannel skirt, a light balmoral, a short, light hoop, corsets, and dress-skirts, over and under, weighed lbs. oz. avoirdupois. it must be also remembered that this pressure is not regularly exerted, but on account of the swinging and swaying motion of the skirts, is applied now in one direction, now in another. the dress weighed was not of the heaviest material, but of fine old-fashioned merino, or what is known this year as _drap d'été_. [ ] lest this should seem to imply that women should not be employed as bookkeepers, i would call attention to the fact that it presents practically no obstacle whatever to their employment. for instance, one of the largest wholesale and retail firms in st. louis has for years employed a woman bookkeeper, and she has never been expected to stand. low instead of high desks are in their counting-room, and low chairs are also found there. the books, bills, etc., are convenient to her hand, and no difficulty whatever is experienced. it may, perhaps, be a pertinent question to ask, in what consists the advantage of a high stool and a high desk over a low chair and a low desk, and whether it takes any more time to rise from a chair, than to swing down from a stool. [ ] in a most valuable and instructive article on the comparative health of american and english women, soon to appear in _scribner's monthly_, miss mary e. beedy, an american woman who has had unusually large opportunities for knowing english girls, states that this is exactly the feeling with which the english girl and woman regard their daily walk. i call especial attention to this forthcoming article because it abounds in accurately observed and skilfully generalized facts; and because it is most suggestive on the whole subject of the health of women, and the causes of its failure. [ ] "the change of character at this period is not by any means limited to the appearance of the sexual feelings and their sympathetic ideas; but when traced to its ultimate reach, will be found to extend to the highest feelings of mankind--social, moral, and even religious. in its lowest sphere, as a mere animal instinct, it is clear that the sexual appetite forces the most selfish person out of the little circle of self-feeling into a wider feeling of family sympathy, and a rudimentary moral feeling."--maudsley, _body and mind_, d edition, p. . [ ] maudsley: _body and mind_, am. ed., p. _et seq._ [ ] dr. karl rosenkranz, doctor of theology, and professor of philosophy at the university of königsberg. [ ] i quote again from rosenkranz, because i cannot improve upon his words: "modesty is the feeling of the primitive harmony of nature and spirit, and it is very decidedly active in children, however unconstrained they are with regard to nature. true modesty is as far removed from coarseness as from prudery. coarseness takes a delight in making the relation of the sexes the subject of ambiguous, witty, shameless talking and jesting, and it is just as blamable as prudery, which externally affects an innocence no longer existing therein. here is, consequently, the point in which physical education must pass over into moral education, and where the purity of the heart must hallow the body." [ ] a friend of undoubted accuracy testifies to a case where acute dysmenorrhoea and menorrhagia, begun in over-excitement and tight clothing, and aggravated by the very cause above-mentioned, gradually yielded to regular and nutritious food, a rational mode of dressing, regular sleep, and to the regular brain-work which gave sufficient employment to the over-excited imagination. [ ] rosenkranz refers here, of course, only to the antique, and to the products of modern art which breathe the true spirit of the antique; for it is unfortunately quite possible to find a joaquin miller and a charles reade, or a tupper and a t. s. arthur, in painting and sculpture as well as in literature. [ ] plato, _rep._, book iii. [ ] "the great mental revolution which occurs at puberty may go beyond its physiological limits in some instances, and become pathological. the vague feelings, blind longings, and obscure impulses which then arise in the mind, attest the awakening of an impulse which knows not its aim; a kind of vague and yearning melancholy is engendered, which leads to an abandonment to poetry of a gloomy, byronic kind, or to indulgence in indefinite religious feelings and aspirations. there is a want of some object to fill the void in the feelings, to satisfy the undefined yearning--a need of something to adore; consequently, when there is no visible object of worship, the invisible is adored. the time of this mental revolution is, at best, a trying period for youth; and when there is an inherited infirmity of nervous organization, the natural disturbance of the mental balance may easily pass into actual destruction of it. * * * * * what such patients need to learn is, _not the indulgence but a forgetfulness of their feelings, not the observation but the renunciation of self, not introspection but useful action_." (the italics are ours.)--maudsley, _body and mind_, d edition, pp. , . "the next step will be to desire our opponent to show how, in reference to any of the pursuits or acts of citizens, the nature of a woman differs from that of a man. that will be very fair; and perhaps he will reply that to give an answer on the instant is not easy--a little reflection is needed."--plato, rep., book v. mental education, or, the culture of the intellect. "now, as refusal to satisfy the cravings of the digestive faculty is productive of suffering, so is the refusal to satisfy the craving of any other faculty productive of suffering, to an extent proportioned to the importance of that faculty. but, as god wills man's happiness, that line of conduct which produces unhappiness is contrary to his will."--francis bacon. if one is to educate the body, she would be presumptuous in the extreme if she made the attempt without first understanding in some measure its anatomy and physiology. with as much reason, in approaching the subject of mental education--that one third of education which with too many persons stands for the whole--we must pause a moment for a few reflections on the nature of mind and the necessary results thereof. "_mind is essentially self-activity_." in this, as we have been taught, lies its essential difference from mere matter, whose most essential property is inertia--_i.e._, absolute inability to move itself or to stop itself.[ ] when, therefore, mind acts at all, it must act from within, and no amount of information given will be of the slightest concern to it, unless by its own activity the mind reach forth, draw it in, and assimilate it to itself. this voluntary activity, directed towards any subject, is attention, and so great is the power of mind when in this state, that it dissolves and draws in all food, no matter how abstruse, that may present itself. thus the problem of mental education, which had seemed so complex, resolves itself very simply. we have first to educate the attention of the child, so that she shall be able to use it at will, and to turn it towards any object desired; and secondly, we simply have to present to the aroused attention the knowledge which the past centuries have created and accumulated, and to present this in such quantity and in such order as the experience of the same centuries has decided to be best for its normal growth. to begin with, then, we must educate the child from the first into a habit of controlling and directing her naturally drifting and capricious attention by the will. the power of the child is very limited in this respect. her eyes, the index of her attention, wander easily from one external object to another, and consequently our work must be very gradual, for, if we attempt to hold the attention one moment longer than the mind has strength for, the tense bow snaps, and the overstrained activity lapses into inanity. we must ask her attention for very short intervals at first, and during many years; for every time that we attempt to convey information for so long that the attention gives way, we have weakened, and not strengthened the power. exercise, to be judicious, we must remember, must, in mind as well as body, be regular, and increase steadily in its demand. the object of the first teaching should, therefore, be the steady and methodical cultivation of the faculty of attention, and not the acquisition of knowledge. our first work must be to give such judicious exercise that the mind shall acquire a habit of exercise and an appetite for it, and not to spoil at the outset the mental digestion. a healthy appetite being once created, we have then only to spread the table and place the courses one after another, at proper intervals, and within convenient reach, in regular order, and the work is done. but the child, as she grows from child to woman, must pass through three stages, showing three different directions which are successively taken by the intelligent activity. first, she is occupied in perceiving objects. she then passes into the years dominated by the imagination, and she should emerge from this into the dominion of rational, logical thought, but, through the fault of a defective education, she often never passes beyond the second stage. thus dwarfed and crippled she remains during her whole life, physically a woman, mentally a child. better days are, however, dawning, though the sun be but one hour high. again, serious errors are made in education, from the want of a proper appreciation of the time at which the girl passes inevitably from one to the other of these stages. when, for example, authors of text-books on natural science, history and reading, designed for pupils of fifteen and sixteen years of age, cover more space with illustrations than with text, we recognize the fact that they forget that at that age, the first or intuitional stage is past; and when publishers endeavor to recommend their books to teachers, by sending them specimens of the pictures in the books, instead of specimens of the explanations and statements, the teachers know that they are supposed to be equally admirers of fine wood-cuts. in the first, or intuitional stage, when the child is chiefly employed with perceptions, there is little to be done but to train the eye, the ear, the hand and the voice, and to teach the correct use of distinctly spoken language. it is clearly impossible to investigate the subject of mental education in detail in the present essay; i must content myself with a few suggestions and statements. first, is it not evident that it is all-important what kind of training the little girl receives in the first years of her school life, while she is yet in the intuitional or perceptive stage? a failure to properly train her attention here, and the whole of her after-work is invalidated. her school work becomes, in its progress, tiresome, and hence disagreeable, from the constant necessity of repetition, a necessity arising from the want of a trained power of attention. she is found fault with for restlessness and want of interest, as if that were her fault, and not her misfortune; and, at the end, her knowledge is at best but "a thing of shreds and patches," till, when all is done and the result exhibited, we ask, with a sigh, "whether it be really worth while to go through so much to gain so little." and yet, what care do guardians take to secure the best advantages for their daughters at fifteen and seventeen, and of how little importance do they consider it, under what kind of teaching they place them between eight and fifteen! the error is all the same in the intellectual as in the physical education of our girls. we are continually carefully locking the stable-door after the horse is stolen; we are continually allowing things to go wrong, and then making superhuman efforts to right them, not remembering that it is far easier to keep out of trouble than to get out of it. if a girl must be trusted to incompetent, or, at the best, doubtful, teachers during half her school life, let that half be the last, and not the first, and incompetency will be shorn of half its power to injure. not only directly in the interest of the girls, but in the interest of my own profession--though the two are one--i ask this, for in that case, our profession would soon be elevated in its general tone by the elimination from it of those who ought never to have entered it. passing from the intuitional epoch to the age when the imagination and emotion become the ruling powers, we next arrive at the time at which it becomes necessary for parents to see to it that plenty of good reading is provided for the eager child. it makes not so much difference what kind of books she reads, but they should always be the very best of their kind, for this is the time in which the formation of a correct taste becomes, perhaps, the most important duty of the educator. to poetry, either in verse or not, each child inclines naturally, as did the race in its childhood, and the stories of the old testament and homer are never wearisome. generally, "the proper classical works for youth are those which nations have produced in the earliest stages of their culture." now is the season for fairy stories, and the germans, who, of all nations best understand the needs of children, have them ready furnished to our hand. i do not mean the absurd, aimless, and meaningless fairy tales with which modern writers endeavor to supplant the fairy classics, and which, for the most part, the instinct of a child at once condemns. i doubt very seriously whether it is possible at the present time, and in america, to write a fairy story which shall have the true ring in it, any more than it would be possible for any one to write a genuine epic poem. the circumstances favorable to the production of both have passed away with modern times, but the productions are left us, a perpetual legacy of delight and charm to every little girl. we are too apt to forget that the child must live through certain stages of thought and feeling in order to arrive at maturity. and perhaps americans are more liable to this error than any other nation. we might as well expect the full bloom of the rose to burst from the root without the intervention of stem and bud, and the slow passing of the years. it is right that the children should devour fairy stories, and she, who, at this period of life, fails to read the _arabian nights_, must miss forever a most valuable part of her mental education: for this period, once past, never returns. don quixote and gulliver's travels may be also mentioned here. it is true that they were not written for children, but so true and genuine are they, that the child enjoys them thoroughly, while the most mature find them a profitable study. this peculiarity of adaptation to all ages belongs to all the genuine myths of any nation, its best modern master being hans christian andersen. it is the royal sign and seal of authority in stories. ballad poetry belongs too to the beginning of this stage. scott comes in later, but tennyson does not belong in it at all. these examples will be sufficient to express my meaning. it would be a very valuable aid in the education of our girls at this time, if some one who is capable would, out of her riches of wide reading, give us a list, with publishers' names, of these books of all time which ought to be read by every child; a list to which any mother, anxious for the right guidance of her little girl's taste, and yet ignorant of the best means, might refer with perfect confidence. we must not, as has been well said, deprive books for children of the "shadow-side" of life, because in that case they become artificial and untrue, and the child rejects them. "for the very reason that in the stories of the old testament we find envy, vanity, evil desire, ingratitude, craftiness and deceit among the fathers of the jewish race, and the leaders of god's chosen people, have they so great an educational value," and when we have purged the narrations of all these characteristics, and present to the child an expurgated edition, we find that they no longer charm her. nothing disgusts a child sooner than _childishness_ in stories written for her, and it is because very few people can rightly draw the line between what is childish and what is child-like, that we find so few who are able to write stories which are really adapted to children, and that so many who address sunday-schools fail to interest. every woman who has proved her power in this direction may be said, in the dearth of valuable books for children, to owe a duty to her country by giving them more. as the child grows towards womanhood, tragedy will take the place of the epic poem and ballad, and will lead, it may be unconsciously, to a deepening of the sense of responsibility. the question what the girl shall read belongs not at all to herself, but to those who know the world better than she, and who, through the fact that they are educated while she is not, know what and when to select. hence the immense importance, not only to the girl herself, but to the whole country, of the thorough intellectual education of our girls.[ ] but enough has been said on the subject of reading, and of the distinctions which should be made. i may add, however, that the line before alluded to is to be drawn in novels. as, for instance, the girl is ready for dickens before she ought to read thackeray, as dickens dwells more in the region of the simple emotions, while thackeray has moved on into the sphere of emotion which is conscious of itself, or of the reflecting and critical understanding. supposing now that the girl has passed beyond the psychical stage of the imagination into the stage of logical thought, it is immensely important that in this stage also she should not miss a systematic education. if this should be the case, she is defrauded of the key which alone can render intelligible the scattered work of the previous epoch. the work of education in the first, or intuitional epoch is general; in the second, or imaginative, special; and in the third, or logical, returns again to the general; and thus only can it constitute a whole. in the first, the child picks up facts and general principles from them; in the second, the little girl pursues, each for itself, different branches of study; in the third, she should be led to see the connection and interdependence of these branches, to weave together the loose ends. if she is not so led, if her education stops with the work of the second stage--the only work which it is possible to do in the second stage, on account of the laws of the development of the intellectual power--her education remains forever unfinished, a garment not firm enough to endure the stress of time, not fine enough to bear a moment's keen scrutiny, and only strong enough to fetter and trip feet that endeavor to make any real after-progress by its aid. and yet this is what we are in the majority of cases doing for, or rather against, our intelligent and energetic american girls. does it ever occur to us to ask what becomes of this energy, deprived thus of its natural outlet? we have only to turn to the records of our insane asylums or to the note-books of the physician and we are partially answered. this is more true than is generally supposed. if these girls had had real work for which they were responsible, and felt themselves able rationally to utilize the power of which they were blindly conscious, they would not be found to-day in the wards of asylums, or condemned to the luxurious couches on which they spend their "inglorious days." or, thirdly, we may find another and quite different development of this perverted but not destroyed energy,[ ] this closing of the top of the chimneys. many a woman is antagonistic, is combative, because she is forced into such a position, not because she herself desires it. the smoke starts for the top of the chimney, as it should; but, baffled, it frets itself in eddying whirls against the bricks, till, driven by the necessity of an outlet somewhere, not understanding what the trouble is, but only dimly realizing that there is trouble, it rushes back, choking in its passage the fire, and revenging itself on the author of the repression. men and women are wonderfully alike after all. the same motives move them, the same incitements spur to honorable effort, and if a girl is assured that, being half-educated, half-educated she must remain, she will not, unless driven by the internal fire of irrepressible genius, try very earnestly to fit herself for the higher plane which she can never reach. "were it not better done, as others use, to sport with amaryllis in the shade, or with the tangles of neæra's hair?" by all means it were far better, if effort for broader work be of no avail, to cease to think of it, and to make one's self as comfortable as possible. and yet, how about the comfort in the coming years, when her girls, who, thanks to the inevitable march of truth, will have a better chance than she, and her boys, to whom the last stage of education is to be had for the asking, come to her in vain for sympathy and appreciation, to say nothing of the husband, from all understanding of whose rational thought she finds herself barred out?[ ] babies and half-educated children are very pretty to play with, interesting to watch, and delightful to care for, but when they are married and have children, for they can never be said, in any true sense, to be wives or mothers, they appear in a somewhat different aspect. i have sometimes, out of sheer pity, wished that there were some state asylum for such children, when they are left, as the chances of life and death so often leave them, unprotected in the world, with dependent children clinging to their useless hands. i have never seen a sadder sight than such a woman, her physical system in perfect order and superbly developed, looking stunned and helpless into the world, unable to do anything for herself or her children, and dependent upon the charity of her dead husband's friends--and perhaps the wise thought and tender care of a faithful servant, whose practical education was complete in the stern school of necessity--for food, clothing, and shelter. they have been only half-educated, and it seems as if the authority which has refused in the past to provide them with the power for their own maintenance, ought to recognize their right to be supported; as much as it does recognize the duty of supporting others, for whose education it has failed properly to care in their youth, in jails, penitentiaries, and prisons. as to the effect of the want of education and culture upon what are known as the most characteristic womanly qualities, whether physical or mental, no better illustration can be furnished than that of the women among the arkansas refugees, who during the war came crowding for protection into missouri. they had not dwelt in a frigid and contracting climate; they had not been physically overworked, and they had not been co-educated, for they had not been educated at all, either physically, intellectually, or morally. should we not have expected to find in these children of nature, these women who had spent their lives in idleness, undisturbed by any brain-work, at least, finely developed forms? but what did we find in the quarters assigned them? without a single exception, they were tall, thin, and angular in face and form, while the masculine loudness, harshness, and depth of their voices, and the masculine expression of features and movement, made us involuntarily recoil from them as if they were something monstrous, in being neither man nor woman. the animal nature, informed only in a small degree by the spiritual, inevitably descends through lower forms, and when we find it deprived entirely of spiritual guidance, we find a something lower than the dog that is grateful for our kindness, or the horse that whinnies as he hears our step on the gravel-walk; for we find the idiot. but meantime, while the child is passing through all these stages of mental development, as ordained by the creator, the definite school-work is intrusted to the hands of professional teachers. american parents throw this responsibility entirely off from their own shoulders when they send their girls to school, with somewhat the same feeling of relief as that with which they lead their family physician to the bedside of the little girl, for whose indisposition they have, before summoning him, anxiously endeavored to care. there is only one difference: in the case of the physician, they relate to him fully all the symptoms and previous treatment; they remain by the bedside after he has gone, in the capacity of nurses, and they see to it that his prescriptions are obtained and administered, and his suggestions in every respect exactly followed, while, in the case of the teacher, they send the child, leaving her to make her own discoveries as to previous symptoms and treatment, and they do not inquire into the directions given, the nature of the work prescribed, or the effect. having thus, as they think, placed the whole matter in the hands of the teacher, they are often surprised and annoyed at the result. i am taking it for granted here that the teacher is qualified for her part of the work, as to method; and, if not working under a course of study laid out for her, as in the public schools, is herself able to arrange and plan. this is the most favorable aspect of the subject. but there is indisputably another side. if mothers would only work with the teachers, so that the home influences brought to bear on the girls in matters already discussed, especially in the direction of the reading of their daughters, should be healthful and strong, the teachers would be saved much time and energy, which could be far more usefully applied for the benefit of the child. i speak from the midst of a profession which often suffers in reputation, nay, even in actual character, from this very cause. to go in detail through the part of intellectual education which belongs especially to the teacher, is impossible here, nor would such a discussion be in place in these pages. it has its place properly only in professional literature, just as the details of the treatment of a case placed under medical care, whether preventive or curative, belong only in the pages of a medical journal. a few suggestions only will be added in this department. it is evident to the most superficial observer that a vast amount of time is spent over such studies as grammar, geography and history in our schools, with but little perceivable result. this is due in great measure to the fact that the manufacture of text-books has become in america a profitable business in a money point of view, and that, consequently, what text-books shall be used in our schools, both public and private, is decided more by the publishers than by the educators. hence the graded series of school geographies, for instance, through some five or six of which the pupil is obliged to wade, one after another, to find in each, only the same matter in sentences of a somewhat greater length. hence, to go one step farther, the stupefying of so many minds in our schools. nothing is more deadening to all mental activity than unmeaning repetitions, a fact easily verified by any one who, wakeful through mental disturbance at night, will take the trouble to repeat and re-repeat any meaningless thing. it is the lounging, deadening brain-work of which we have too much, not the active, vivifying brain-work of which we have too little, that does injure the system. the whole healthy tone of the mind is destroyed, and evils, mental and physical, follow in rapid succession. from the process of text-book manufacturing also spring the endless number of compendiums and abstracts with which our schools are deluged, mental power diluted, and the pockets of the parents unnecessarily taxed for the support of large publishing houses, not for the education of their children. another cause of this stupefying process is the rigid system by which most large schools are conducted, where promotions, from one class to another, can take place, say, once a year, the pupil who, on examination, falls short of the required per cent of correct answers, being forced to review the work of the entire previous year before going on. more elasticity, more fluidity, as it were, is sadly needed in our system of public school education before this evil will be to any great extent modified.[ ] it would be a waste of time to say that one ought not to be overworked, were it not that some persons always seem to imply that any intellectual work is overwork. it would seem equally superfluous to say that for intellectual health there ought not to be any surplus energy, for the latter statement seems as axiomatic as the former. the problem with which educators are chiefly concerned is that of fully employing the energies without overtasking them. if the dividing line between _enough_ and _too much_ could be determined as exactly as the mississippi river marks the series of lowest points where the eastern slope of the rocky mountains meets the western slope of the alleghenies, our work as teachers were easy indeed. teaching, however, is not the only profession where such unsolved problems exist, for individual cases, and we teachers are thus but a part of a noble army of professional workers, so we take heart of grace, and are not ashamed. but the fact remains to be considered that the work of school education is, as the result of unavoidable destiny, in america, passing very rapidly into the hands of women. we may deplore this, but we cannot prevent it. the last census showed that the number of women teachers in the united states stands already to that of the men as , to , , and the ratio is daily increasing. there is no other country in the world, then, where it is so all important that the girls should receive a complete education. in one view, this tendency of the times is of great value. the years spent in teaching are often the most valuable training for the work of the mother. no other employment calls for a greater exercise, and hence, a greater development, of the directive power, and of the knowledge of human nature which will enable her well and wisely to direct her children, successfully to grapple with the "servant problem," and to sweep a large circle of details within the compass of generalized rules. she has learned what industry means, not, as was said by a christian writer of the thirteenth century, only "to pray to god, to love man, to knit and to sew." she has not "everlastingly something in her hand, though no one profits by her labor, and she is reduced to look for her sole reward in civil speeches made for useless gifts, or insincere praise of household ornaments that are in everybody's way," covers, and covers for covers, and covers for covers of covers. many women "are busy, very busy; they have hardly time to do this thing, because they really wish, or ought to do that, but with all their driving, their energy is entirely dissipated, and nothing comes from their countless labors," and i ask, in the words of a russian woman, "is it not a great loss to the economy of society when such an amount of strength is wasted and leaves behind it no good work!" but many persons continually pursue self-contradictory ends, simply for the reason that their education has been so narrow and limited that they are not able to see these ends as self-contradictory. indeed, there are other disabilities than the physical for the duty of a mother. "the want of self-control that comes of an objectless life, the uninquiring habit of frivolous employment, disable her from fulfilling this duty, and to remain a child does not give the ability to educate children."[ ] the power of independent thinking, without which there can be no judgment, and which alone frees the soul, the real mother must have, and our girls should be most carefully educated into it. which course, then, will be best to fit the average child for her future work in the active world, a course of private lessons, or the life of the school, which is in itself a miniature world, where she learns to measure her own acquirements and character by those of others, and is educated into the knowledge that individual caprice cannot be allowed as a rule of conduct? and is there any country in the world whose citizens need to learn a respect for law more than in america? as to the branches which girls have the ability successfully to pursue, the question is no longer an open one. the experiments at oberlin, antioch, the northwestern university, michigan university, vassar and many other institutions, not to go out of our own country, are sufficiently positive and conclusive to convince the most incredulous.[ ] if the question be as to the branches which she ought to pursue, that is also to some extent settled. the courses of study which are laid down for students in european and american universities, represent simply the condensed judgment of centuries of experience and induction as to the means by which the human intellect may be most surely strengthened and developed. they are the results of long generalization, and are founded deep on a knowledge of the human mind. shall we venture to depart from the old ways, and to decry the customs handed down to us from the ages gone by? do we not know that the wisdom of twenty centuries, as to the best means for developing the human mind, is greater than the knowledge of one? since we are "heirs of all the ages," why throw away our inheritance? in one word, our girls should be so educated intellectually that there will no longer be any internal barriers to their progress, and when this is done they will find that the external barriers, against which they fret themselves, have disappeared. when britomart had fairly conquered and bound with his own chains the enchanter within the castle, she found, as she passed out, that the castle walls, the iron doors and the fire which had barred her entrance had no longer any existence. we can yet afford to learn lessons of wisdom from the prophetic "woman's poet" of the sixteenth century. whether our school girls and college girls will be injured physically, mentally or morally, by granting to the boy and man students, in our high schools and universities, the advantage of fellow-workers of the other sex, is a question which, though practically settled to a large extent by experience, ought not perhaps to be passed over here in entire silence. one very curious feature of this question with regard to the education of our girls seems to be this: those who are most urgent that the question should be decided by facts do not bring them forward, but base their position on general principles assumed, and on theory. as has been well said by president white, of cornell, to seek for information on the real results, so far, of the experiment in our colleges from the authorities of colleges that have never tried it, would be to commit the same absurdity as "if the japanese authorities, aroused to the necessities of railroads and telegraphs, had corresponded with eminent chinese philosophers regarding the ethics of the subject, instead of sending persons to observe the working of railroads and telegraphs where they were already in use." where inquiries were made of universities which had never tried the experiment, "the majority of responses were overwhelmingly against the admission of women. it was declared to be 'contrary to nature,' 'likely to produce confusion,' 'dangerous,' 'at variance with the ordinances of god;' in short, every argument that a mandarin would be sure to evolve from his interior consciousness against a railroad or a telegraph which he had never seen." i am not forgetful that the high ground of philosophy is the only proper one from which to settle the question of the sphere of any human being, and what education will fit her for it; but after this has been done, if special objections are raised against the possibility or advisability, in a utilitarian or physiological point of view, such special assertions, in default, from their very nature, of any other possible demonstration, must be proved or disproved by experience--and yet these material facts are not allowed in evidence by those who theoretically insist most vigorously upon facts.[ ] the opponents of higher education for women, which practically is the same thing as co-education, have within a few years shifted their ground. at first it was asserted that woman was not equal, mentally, to the thorough mastering of the higher branches of study. having been driven from that position by the indisputable evidence of percentages on written examinations, they have taken up their new position with the assertion that women are not able physically to pursue a thorough and complete course of study--for, i repeat again, that for the masses, co-education and higher education for women are practically one and the same thing. in this position of the question, we have only two things for which to be profoundly thankful: the first is that we, as living women, are asserted by no one to be composed of more than two parts--spirit and body. the second is, that we have in our own hands, at last, the means of finally disposing of this question, by disproving the second assertion. to us as women, as wives, as mothers, as older sisters, as friends, as teachers, as college girls, as school girls, and to us alone, the settlement of the question has at last been fairly handed over. we have only, in all these relations, to learn the laws of physical health, and to obey them, and the whole matter will be set forever at rest. we have only to see to it, day and night, that our girls are educated into proper ways of living as regards food, clothing, sleep and exercise, till we have created for them a second nature of fixed, correct physical habits--and we alone can do this--and the end is at hand. we have at last the right to settle our own questions conceded to us. the responsibility of the decision, whether our girls are to have what we demand for them--nay, what they themselves are eagerly and persistently demanding, is decided, by the new position, to belong to us, and to us alone. responsibility means duty. are we ready to accept the one, and to perform the other? footnotes: [ ] on this statement we may perhaps rest, as our present distinct object is to illustrate mind, and not matter; though any reader will, of course, be entitled to his own "mental reservations" on the other side, and his own ideas on the subject of attraction, etc. [ ] when those who are supposed to be the educated women of america are really educated, we shall not be pained through our sympathies, in view of such wide-spread evil as the following paragraph from a recent editorial of a leading new york journal would seem to attest. "it must be confessed, we fear, that wives and mothers are responsible for no little of our too general disinclination for that steady, persevering pursuit of high intellectual aims, of which agassiz was such a bright example. they are naturally ambitious of the outward signs of social position, and also, on account of those they love, eager for the solid advantages to be obtained by money. they are not content if they cannot be dressed as finely and 'receive' as elegantly as their friends do; and, also, they fret if their children do not have such advantages of education and association as will secure for them an enviable future. and thus, husbands and fathers are driven, not only to ceaseless labor--that they would bear willingly--but to the abandonment of their best-loved pursuits, and their highest, most cherished purposes. thus, money-productiveness comes to be the test of the value of all intellectual labor, even with men who would gladly devote their lives to science or to literature, and perhaps be willing, for themselves, even to be poor in a society in which poverty is almost a reproach. thus it is that high aspirations are checked, and that strong resolves are broken. and thus it will be, until we have advanced to such a point of civilization and culture that we shall award that something which is only expressed by the word 'consideration' to other eminence than that which is attained in politics or in trade." i venture the question with extreme diffidence, but would not this broader education of future wives and mothers save perhaps so much new legislation on the subject of divorce as is now in progress in those parts of the country most characteristically american? [ ] "we are imperfect beings, and in nothing more imperfect than in our power of appreciating each other's mental suffering. we see the odd contortions to which they give rise without seeing the reasons for them, and they are to us fit subjects for caricature. we all know mrs. pardiggle and mrs. jellyby, but few who have not borne it, know the pain of the pressure from within that forces natural activity into such distorted motion."--mary taylor, _first duty of women._ [ ] "young america is conceited, disrespectful, does not honor over-much his mother. commonly he soon outstrips, or thinks he outstrips, her mental attainments. her stature dwindles as his increases. at best, in his fancied greatness, he pities while he loves her. but what if she has traversed every inch of these intellectual regions before him, has scaled those heights, has conquered those enemies, has looked deeper into those mysteries, is superior at every point, can in an instant flood his darkness with light, sweeps with steady gaze the circumference of his groping thought, and shows him ever an angelic intellect as well as a mother's heart! with such a mother, filial love would almost become worship. "how much of francis bacon's greatness was due to his mother, who was the daughter of sir anthony cooke, tutor to king edward vi.? every evening when sir anthony came home, he taught his daughter the lessons he had given to his royal pupil. anne cooke mastered latin, greek, and italian, and became eminent as a scholar and translator, and she taught her son. a suggestion of bacon's reverence for her, some conception of what he felt that he owed her, may be gained from the touching request in his will that he might be buried by her side. 'for my burial, i desire it may be in st. michael's church at gorhambury, for there is the grave of my mother.'"--_address of homer b. sprague, at the laying of the corner-stone of sage college, cornell university._ [ ] for a full and masterly discussion of this subject, its evils and remedies, i must refer to the report on the st. louis public schools for the year - , by wm. t. harris, superintendent, p. _et seq._ [ ] a mary taylor, _first duty of women_, p. , emily faithfull, london, . [ ] extracts from the last two reports of the president of michigan university on this point will be found in the appendix. [ ] on the subject of co-education, i refer again to the report of wm. t. harris, superintendent of the public schools of st. louis, for - , p. _et seq._, where the actual effects, physical, mental and moral are given in detail. "the one that received the seed into the good ground is the one that heareth the word and understandeth it." moral education; or, the culture of the will. "in hire is hye bewte withouten pryde, youthe withouten grefhed or folye; to all her werkes vertue is her gyde, humblesse hath slayen in her, tyrrannye, she is mirrour of alle curtesye; hir perte is verray chambre of holynesse, her hand mynistre of fredom and almesse." --chaucer, man of lawes tale. the thorough education of the will is that which renders the pupil . civilized, . moral, . religious. if educated into a civilized being, she learns to subject her own natural and unregulated--her savage will, we might say--to the customs and habits of civilized society. if educated into a moral being, she learns to subject her will, not to the idea of what is agreeable or useful, but to the idea of what is simply right. if educated into a religious being, she learns to submit her will to the divine will, and in her relation to god, she first becomes freed from the bonds of all finite and transitory things, and attains to the region where perfect obedience and perfect freedom coincide.[ ] a woman who is virtuous, so to speak, with regard to the first, might be characterized as polite; she who is virtuous in regard to the second, as conscientious; and she who is virtuous in regard to the third, as humble. she who is all these may be said to have been thoroughly educated as to her will. the culture of the will may be, then, . social, . moral, . religious. in this realm, as in that of the intellect, the process of education consists in developing a spiritual being out of a natural being. it is the clothing, or rather, the informing of the natural with the spiritual. the part of education which relates to the social life is almost entirely given to the parents; and generally, from the great demands which business makes on the father, it falls almost wholly into the hands of the mother. it is she who must train the little girl into habits of neatness, of obedience, of order, of regularity, of punctuality--small virtues, but the foundation stones of a moral character, and into habits of unselfishness and of politeness. _social culture._--neatness in person, as in dress, is not natural to the woman of a savage tribe, neither is it a characteristic of hermits. it is the product of civilized society. it is a recognition, in some sense, of the equality of others to one's self, a bending of the undisciplined will to the pleasure and satisfaction of others. like all other habits, it becomes, in time, agreeable to the person who practises it, but the first training into it, is a painful struggle. do we not all remember that in the picture painted by the melancholy jacques of the shadow side of human existence, the "_shining_ morning face" of the child was not forgotten as one of the shadow tints of that stage of life? the education into habits of neatness is almost entirely in the hands of the mother or of her deputies. she herself then must be thoroughly educated into it, and it were well that she remembered and taught her daughters to remember, that real neatness includes the unseen as well as the seen. neatness has a moral significance not to be despised, for though it is true that the dress is an index of the character, and that external neatness habitually covering untidy underclothing, is only typical of some moral unsoundness, it is equally true that there is an influence in the other direction, from the external, inwards. the habit of neatness furnishes soil in which the tree of self-respect may begin its growth. do we not all know that a child behaves better in clean clothes than in soiled ones? and has there not been a perceptible elevation in the real character of the city police since they were dressed in neat uniforms? i know that the fact that they are in _uniform_ touches another point, and yet it is not all. if instead of setting the beggar on horseback, we clothe him in clean and neat garments, we all know that we have given him an impulse in the direction of the good. obedience is perhaps the next habit to be spoken of. unquestioning obedience we must demand from the child for her own safety. it may often be a question of life and death whether the little girl runs when she is called, or throws away something which she has in her hand, instead of putting it into her mouth. but has not this habit of obedience a higher office than this? it is the first yielding of the untrained will to rightful authority, and as such, has an immense significance. the mother who cannot train her daughters and sons to obedience were better childless, for she is but giving to her country elements of weakness, not elements of strength. she is furnishing future inmates for jails, penitentiaries, and prisons, and putting arms into the hands of the enemies of law and order. and yet, how can a woman who has no clear ideas herself of what should be demanded and enforced, and hardly a sufficient command of language to express directions clearly, who was never taught herself to obey, and who has no definite idea of what end she really wishes to attain, educate her children into obedience? a sense of exact justice, a persistent attention, and a consistent thought are necessary. has the education which we have been giving our girls tended to develop these? are they not "developed only by mental work in those very directions which have scarcely heretofore formed a part of the education of our girls?" does not the welfare of the country imperatively demand that we give those who are to be the only educators of the children in their first and decisive years, a thorough, slow, a well-founded and finished education? order, in any of its manifestations, is not natural to the race. but the very nature of civilization forces it upon us. we may yield our will at first to its demands, or we may oppose, but it will not take a very long time in the latter case for the demands of social life to give us so great an amount of annoyance, that the pain of the inconvenience incurred will far outweigh the pleasure of lawlessness in this respect. here, also, the mother is supreme, though the teacher should come to her aid very effectually when the school-days begin, and here i touch a subject which demands a little more attention than has hitherto been paid to it, for too much cannot be said of the great significance of rules as educators in girls' schools. it is allowed in very large schools, and where boys and girls are brought together, that there must be strict rules, because large masses cannot be successfully managed without; but it is generally taken for granted in a girls' school, and where the numbers are small, that very little or no discipline is required or even desirable. this view follows logically enough if one assumes that the object of discipline is the present good of the school as a whole. but if we assume that its prime object is the future benefit of the pupils, individually, it will follow that the size of the school is not an element which should enter into the question at all, and this is the basis which i assert to be the only true one. i do not deny that there may be too many rules. one may endeavor to hedge pupils around with arbitrary prohibitions, but any attempt at this, like any other unreasonable action, will soon result in its opposite, so that the two extremes are ultimately the same in effect. many persons speak and act as if they believed rules to be in themselves only a necessary evil, of which the less we have the better, and an entire absence of which would be the desirable state. rousseau might be said to be the leader of this class, educationally speaking, for this is pre-eminently the doctrine which he teaches, though i fancy that those who object most to rules are not often aware that they are arraying themselves under his banner. that school-work should go on in regular routine, that a regular order should be established, and that no slight cause should be suffered to break this, that there should be some well-defined and regular order in which pupils should come to and go from their hourly duties--the importance of these things to quiet and economy of time is as nothing, compared to the results of regulations like these on the intellectual and moral character. the daily and hourly habit in external observances repeats itself in habits of thought and study. unconsciously, facts are learned, and thoughts take on regular habits, and the impress made by the silent work of years is ineffaceable. it will show itself, in years to come, if we refer only to so-called "practical" things--and this is what our condemners of rules are seeking for,--in well-ordered homes, where each duty has its appointed time, and where the necessary labor goes on so regularly that it is hardly noticeable, except in an absence of all confusion and a permanent sense of quiet;--homes where, because of this regularity, time will remain for higher culture, and the whole family will be elevated thereby. closely connected with this matter of regularity is that of punctuality, which should be no less trained at school into a habit, and the effect of which, on the moral character, is no less important. as far as school goes, punctuality is necessary in order that work be thoroughly done, and that time be saved. but it is not for this reason so much as for the far-reaching influences on the whole character, that the little girl should be made to feel it a matter of importance that she is in her seat when the bell strikes, and that she is ready for her work at the precise minute appointed. is it not at once seen how a requisition of this kind will gently force her into habits of order? if she suffer for being late, because, when she started for school she could not find her rubbers or gloves, she will be more careful the next day that they are in their proper places. if she is late at recitation because her pencil was not to be found at the call, she will finally conclude that it would be a better plan to keep arithmetic, slate and pencil together; and so, almost insensibly, her books and appointments generally will fall into groups and classes in her desk. not only there, but at home, will the same effect be seen; and not only now, but through all her life, the habit will run. it needs only a moment's reflection to show how great will be the result. accustomed to collect her thoughts at a certain time, for a certain work, she will have acquired a mastery over them which will make her self-controlled, ready in emergencies, and able to summon her whole mental power at will for any work when it may be necessary. again, that silence should be enforced in school may be desirable for the immediate quiet resulting therefrom, but that the continual impulse to talk should be restrained and held in check by the will, till the subjection of impulse to will shall become a daily and hourly habit, is a matter of no less than infinite moment. and the wise teacher, who must always look beyond the present and immediate result, to its future and mediate consequences, works steadily, through the enforcement of such regulations, on the formation of the character of the child under her influence, basing her action on the rational foundations of the science of education, and mindful ever that the so-called intellectual part of her work will not be well performed if these be neglected. laws and rules are, to her, not an unfortunate necessity, inseparable from society, but the divinely-appointed means whereby the human soul shall attain perfect development; not a record of rights grudgingly surrendered by the individual for temporal advantage, but the voluntary placing under foot of capricious impulses, that by this renunciation the individual may ascend to his own noblest freedom. do not the very weaknesses, habits and failures, which are considered especially feminine, result from the general lack in a proper appreciation of the educational value of strict and exactly enforced rules? it is because little girls have not, in their educative process, been forced to accept the responsibility, and to suffer the results of their own deeds, that they are, in after life, placed in false and ridiculous positions, when they are forced to come in contact, whether in housekeeping or in business, with the rational regulations of business life. they expect, and take, special privileges, and feel themselves aggrieved if these are not accorded; they continually place their own individual opinions or fancies alongside of the necessary laws of trade, as if the two were to be balanced for a single moment; they have not learned that there are times when silence is better than speech, and they seem to think that a polite apology ought to be accepted by the president and directors of a bank, in lieu of the payment at the proper time of a protested note. that these follies are universally characterized, wherever they occur, by the term "a woman's way of doing business," is sufficient proof that they are characteristic of the majority of women; but that the cause of the trouble lies, not in their nature, but in their education is proved by the fact that wherever women have received a thorough business training, these charming and bewildering feminine characteristics, which render them only a source of confusion, are not found. co-education is, in this respect, of incalculable good to our american girls, for the necessary laws of rational discipline, in a mixed school, must bear as well on the girls as on the boys, and the result is, if possible, of greater value to the girls than to the boys. when we tell the little girl that she must not insist on keeping all her playthings tightly hugged to her bosom, and persuade her to allow her sister to look at or play with them, when the little arms are slowly unfolded and the toy half hesitatingly handed over, we behold the bending of a natural will, and one of the first victories of the spiritual being. there is a great struggle going on in the tiny thought. she is probably too young to be amenable to reasoning, and simply yields to the force of the already acquired habit of obedience, or to the force of her affection. but if she do not yield, if she still hugs the toys in her natural selfishness, shall we be _educating_ her if by physical pain we force her to drop them? a single illustration and question of this kind will show how large interests are involved in what is seemingly so simple a matter. the question of how we shall deal with her to force her to do what she ought to do, cannot be answered without first determining what is the end in view. have we simply in mind as an end that the other child shall have some of the toys in that particular instance, or is it the training, the education of the untrained will, of which we are thinking? and yet the question must be decided at once. the pouting child stands there in full possession of all the playthings, her arms rosy with the strain, and the other child, quite as natural, quite as untrained, is perhaps preparing to take her share by violence, and cries aloud for justice. is it not manifest that every mother--that every woman who may have the care of children, should be so educated that she may guide her conduct in every such emergency by some established principles, and with a clear vision of causes and results? how many such questions come up for settlement in the course of twelve hours, only a woman who has had for a day the charge of two or three young children can know; and how often has she, in the course of half an hour, either from the result of her decision, or from her own reflection, become convinced that she has done exactly the thing which she ought not to have done! this would not be so often the case if our girls were really educated. we hold a general in the army responsible for the mistakes of execution made under his orders, and if he commit many, we assert him to be incompetent, half-educated, and demand that he be superseded. we put a girl who has never had the chance for any study or comprehension of the only thought which could give a rational ground for such decisions, at the head of a family, and when, either in devotion to interests which she practically thinks of greater importance, or in despair at her own want of success, fretted and worried beyond the power of endurance, she fails in nervous health and gives up the care of her children to ignorant nurses, we wonder that american children are so unruly. we sow the wind and we reap the whirlwind, but the sowing was done long ago in the narrow and unfinished education which we gave to our girls, now the mothers. politeness does not consist in any outside mannerisms, nor is it simply kindness. it consists, as a wiser than i has said, in treating every person as if she were what she might be, instead of what she actually is. a person tells us what we know not to be true. we do not contradict her, which would be treating her as if she intended to tell a lie, though we may be convinced that such was the actual case, but we treat her as if she intended to be a scrupulously truthful person. we speak not to _her_ then, but to a non-existing ideal of her, when we ask her politely whether she may not be mistaken, or when we do not answer at all, thereby assuming that her statement was correct. or a self-important salesman insists, very impolitely, because he thereby implies that we know nothing of what we desire, that the piece of goods which we are examining is of charming colors, tastefully combined, and is in fact the very thing which we most need. if we answered him as our natural impulse prompts, "according to his folly," we simply treat him as what he actually is, and we are as impolite as he. the woman who has been educated into true politeness answers him, if she answer him at all, as if he were what he actually is not, a better judge of her needs than she herself is. and so with all cases of politeness. it is manifest that no manual of manners or etiquette of polite society can be of the slightest avail, and all such would seem beneath notice here, were it not evident from the number of such books published, and the number sold, that there is a large demand for them. nothing to an observer can be a more comic sight than the result produced on manners by their faithful study. it is sufficient for us to try to imagine the man who of all our acquaintance is the most truly and exquisitely polite, endeavoring to follow out the cast-iron rules contained in these books, for us to appreciate the difference between the politeness which springs from within and that which is only a shabby veneering. of american mothers and american teachers what proportion are, by having attained a mastership in this art of politeness, fully able to educate our girls into it? are we not a sadly uneducated people? but there is still something else to be done. in the unrestrained and affectionate intercourse of the family, the girl has not felt the necessity of concealing in any degree her real self. she is under an observation that is intelligent and sympathetic, and she is sure of the kindest construction of all her actions. if she talks or laughs loudly, for instance, it is not supposed that this springs from a desire to attract attention, but from the natural, innocent overflowing of healthful spirits, and a forgetfulness of self. but her social education cannot be called finished till she has in some measure been taught to distrust others. she must learn that society is not one vast family, abounding in sympathy, and always ready to put the kindest construction on her words and actions. she must learn this sooner or later. shall she learn it by mortifying experiences, by finding herself often in absurd and annoying positions, by having her confidence betrayed, and the outspoken utterances resulting from her very purity of thought made the occasion of coarse remarks and suspicions; or shall she be guarded against all these by being taught that she must not give all the world credit for being as pure and innocent as she? we must so educate her that she will not lightly give her confidence, or show to uninterested persons too much of her real self. in other words, we must educate her into a reserve, into the gentle, unoffending dignity which holds all but the nearest and dearest at a little distance from herself. this is not teaching deceit. it is only teaching what must be learned, the means of "possessing one's self in peace." the majority of our girls who talk and laugh loudly on broadway, do not do this to attract attention. they do it simply because their education on this point is not yet completed. a slight indication of the same defect in education is the profusion of endearing pet names, which we find in the published catalogues of girl students. if the girls themselves do not realize the impropriety of thus publishing to a world of careless strangers, the names which family affection has bestowed upon them, should not the teachers who compile the catalogues, direct and overrule their uneducated taste? it is only necessary to imagine the catalogue of harvard or yale, printed in the same manner, to make manifest, even to the girls themselves, the want of proper dignity displayed. men, in their intercourse with the world, learn sooner than women, by the rough teaching of experience, the necessity of fending in their inner selves from the outer world. but both boys and girls might be saved much time and pain, if parents and guardians recognized more clearly that this was a part of education. but in all the training of the will on this social side, we must never forget, and here lies the greatest problem for the educator, that individuality is not to be sacrificed, that it must be most jealously preserved. we have only to remember what has been so often said before, that education consists, not in destroying, but in training. the will is only to be directed, never to be broken, or even weakened, and she who endeavors to do this is working in the interest of evil and not of good, while she who should, if it were possible, succeed in it, would have, as the result of her efforts, only a total ruin instead of a fair and stately edifice. it may often, indeed, become her duty to strengthen it, for without a strong will, the moral nature will fall a prey to the forces of evil as surely and quickly as the body, deprived of the life principle, rushes to corruption and disintegration. * * * * * _moral culture._--in the previous division, the will has been supposed to be guided by the educator, but now another guide is to be followed, for it becomes the work of the educator to teach that "nothing in the world has any absolute value except will guided by the right." we must presuppose before we can produce any great effect in this direction a considerable education of the intellect, in order that the child may have some intelligent idea of the right, otherwise we shall be leaving her to the saddest mistakes. the african chief, who, being convinced that it was right for him, before baptism, to dispense with one of his two wives, for both of whom he had a sincere affection, performed, so far as he knew, a highly virtuous action in eating one of them, and no girl whose intellect has not been well trained can safely be delivered over to the direction of her own conscience. the spanish and the french mothers tacitly recognize the truth of this proposition, by the constant surveillance which they exercise over their daughters. it is contrary to the whole spirit of our american life to be so watchful. by so much the more, then, ought we to see to it, that the conscience, to whose custody american mothers hand over their daughters' actions, be an enlightened one. no merely prescriptive external rules, borrowed from society when the mothers were girls, can fully answer the purpose. these may do for communities that are comparatively stationary, but in our rapidly moving american life, our girls must have a more stable guide. it is not often recognized that the cause of much chafing and worry in american homes--a chafing and a worry which is scarcely found in europe--is only this truly american phenomenon of rapid national growth.[ ] the mother who was educated only thirty years ago finds herself unable to understand her daughter's restlessness. as great a distance divides the thought of the mother and daughter in america as in germany lies between the great-grandmother and the great-granddaughter, and these latter named relatives are, by a wise provision of providence, not often permitted to come into contact at the time when the girl begins to assert her own individuality, and hence, the chafing referred to above, is saved. if methuselahs were not exceptional in these days in america, who can estimate to how great a degree the unavoidable friction of family society would be increased! we must never, in this question of education, forget for one moment the peculiar conditions which surround our girls, from the peculiarities of national government and society. again, then, it is, in this point of view, of imperative importance that our girls be allowed, nay, forced, to complete their intellectual education. we have now so to educate the girl that she shall do what is right, simply because it is right, and not because it is useful or politic so to do; that she shall abstain from what is wrong, simply and, only because it is wrong, and not because it will be harmful to her if she do not. these two statements would, however, be fully expressed by the first one, for it is evident that if she always do what is right she will never be able to do what is wrong, and positive education is much better than negative, and an active, better than a passive state of mind. in the first years of the little girl's life this lesson can be impressed upon her only by example, and fortunate have those of us been who, both in grandmother and mother, from our earliest childhood up, can remember no single instance, however trifling, of deviation from obedience to the "stern daughter of the voice of god." though at first we did not know what the power was, we felt, through all our childish consciousness, that there was a power behind the throne from which our laws emanated, whose voice was authority itself. some of us may even recall the impression made upon us, as clear now as in the long gone years, when we distinctly formulated in words, with a certain sense of satisfaction, the conviction that "even grown-up people cannot do as they please;" and yet, that the power which prevented this doing as they pleased was neither fashion, nor custom, nor the opinion of society. let the little girl be so educated that "while she praises and rejoices over, and receives into her soul, the good, and becomes noble and good, she will justly blame and hate the bad, now in the days of her youth, even before she is able to know the reason of the thing, and when reason comes, she will recognize and salute her as a friend with whom her education has made her long familiar."[ ] but when the girl is older, and especially at the time when the whole character is most impressible, this part of education can be firmly laid in the cement of rational conviction, and if it is laid on no shifting sands of contradictory character in the educator, we may safely trust to its enduring support. there must be no compromise here. the doctrines that the good are happy, that honesty is the best policy, etc., are of no avail. they will not do as a guide for life, and the sooner american mothers and teachers learn this, the better for america. when the girl yields in every direction unquestioning obedience to duty, she is virtuous, and she is virtuous only in so far as she does this. but as duty rules in every direction, to god, to the state, society, the family, and ourselves, and as her voice is as authoritative at one time as at another, it follows that no one virtue can be said to be superior to any other. those of us who have had the widest experience have learned that the whole hierarchy of virtues generally stand or fall together, for they are all only the making actual of simple duty. i quote again from rosenkranz, with regard to a habit often found among girls: "the pupil must be warned against a certain moral negligence, which consists in yielding to certain weaknesses, faults or crimes, a little longer and a little longer, because he has fixed a certain time, after which he intends to do better. perhaps he will assert that his companions, his surroundings, his position must be changed before he can alter his internal conduct. wherever education or temperament favors sentimentality, we shall find birthdays, new year's day, confirmation day, etc., selected as these turning points. it is not to be denied that man proceeds, in his internal life, from epoch to epoch, and renews himself in his most internal nature, nor can we deny that moments like those mentioned are especially favorable in man to an effort towards self-transformation, because they invite introspection; but it is not to be endured that the youth, while looking forward to such a moment, should consciously persist in his wrong doing. if he does, when the solemn moment which he has set, at last arrives, he will, at the stirring of the first emotion, perceive with terror that he has changed nothing in himself, that the same temptations are present to him, and the same weakness takes possession of him. * * * in morality there are no vacations and no interims."[ ] the power of voluntary renunciation is another power which the educator has to develop in the girl. it can be cultivated, of course, only by judicious exercise. but the formation of character is the great work of the educator, for this may be said to be the object of a woman's existence. character has been defined as "a completely fashioned will"--_i.e._, a completely educated will. if it is "completely fashioned," it must of necessity be consistent. it is scarcely necessary here to call attention to the fact that by character, in any educational sense, we mean that which the woman really is--not what she is thought to be by others. character may, it is evident, be either good or bad; for one may be consistently bad as well as consistently good. but we are concerned only with the building of character where that building means the "making permanent the direction of the individual will towards the actualization of the good." the woman of good character is she who, while she acts spontaneously, acts in all things consistently; the parts of whose life grow together, as it were, into one organic unity. we know what to expect of her. in her friendship we confide, on her love we safely rely, by her judgment, provided she has been intellectually educated, we regulate our action in times of difficulty and distress. "the heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, and her children rise up and call her blessed," and when she passes through the gate of death, her country should mourn, for it can ill-afford to miss her. religious culture. when the girl has learned to accept duty as the decisive guide of her actions, she is acting conscientiously, and passes over into the real religious life. a distinction must be here made between religion and theology, the latter of which belongs to special educators. at first, in the child, religion is a feeling, a sentiment, which the mother generally fosters and directs. it appears in the form of wonder at natural phenomena, of fear and terror when these are disagreeable, and of gratitude when they are agreeable. but this feeling or sentiment of religion the savage has, and it properly belongs, in civilized christian communities, only to the period of childhood. if the little girl be not educated into a higher religion than this, and if, at the same time, her whole mental horizon have, from unfinished intellectual education, remained narrow, she has nothing on which any teaching of theology can be based, and nothing which will bear the stress and strain of actual life. in such a case--that is, if her religion is only gratitude for favors, if her only idea of god is that of a benefactor--when benefits fail, her religion will fail also. while she has all that she can desire, she is full of religious faith. she loses parents, husband, and only child, and her faith has vanished, and she even doubts whether there be any god, since he can allow so much misery. she asks why, if he were good and kind and loved his children, he could not have divided his gifts more equally, why he could not have taken one child from her neighbor who has seven, instead of her one ewe lamb. allowance must be made for the first unreason of terrible torture to the affections, and the first heart-broken exclamations are not always to be trusted as an index of the religious faith. but when in many a woman, this becomes a chronic state of mind, is it not a serious question for educators to ask, whether the fault does not lie in her narrow education? ought she not to have had her intellect so cultured that she should be able to hold at once in her thought, and without confusion, these two truths: that god's thought and care for the universe must be a thought of law which cannot be broken for individual cases, and also that even one sparrow does not fall without his notice? ought she not to have been educated into so wide a horizon of thought that she herself, and her affairs, her loves, and hates, should not loom up before her in such disproportionate size? a woman is to live in her affections? but what if her affections have been outraged, betrayed, or crushed? the sentiment is a very good one, but it is but sentiment still, and our american girls will not be less strong in their affections if we educate them into thought and knowledge, as well as into emotion and blind belief. if the mere religious feeling which belonged to the child is not led over into a something stronger and surer, it becomes morbid and degenerates into sentimentality and mysticism. can we afford to let the strong feeling in our american girls be lost for all real good, in this way? shall we not rather direct it by a sound religious education, into more healthy channels? in such a completed education alone can we find the ground for any active acceptance of our lot. "the constant new birth out of the grave of the past, to the life of a more beautiful future, is the only genuine reconciliation with destiny." * * * * * only when we have accomplished such an education as this for our american girls, the best material the world has ever yet seen, may we safely trust the interests of future generations to their strong, intelligent, and religious guidance. footnotes: [ ] i am following here, as elsewhere, the direction indicated by the german philosopher, my obligations to whom i have before acknowledged, and from whose work on the science of pedagogy i have so often quoted. [ ] we may, from the same cause, expect soon to detect signs of the same trouble, to a marked degree, in russia. [ ] plato, _rep._, book iii. [ ] _pedagogics as a system._ rosenkranz, p. , published by william t. harris, st. louis, mo. a mother's thought on the education of girls. "why does the meadow flower its bloom expand? because the lovely little flower is free down to its root, and in that freedom bold. and so the grandeur of the forest tree comes not from casting in a formed mould, but from its own divine vitality." a mother's thought on the education of girls. there is no situation in life more freighted with responsibility than that of the mother of girls, be it one or many, the one as heavy as the many, because the only child is less naturally situated; and therefore upon the mother rests the necessity of intentionally providing many influences which are spontaneously produced in a large and varied family circle. i emphasize also the responsibility of the education of girls over boys for the same reason, because girls are more largely withdrawn from the natural education of life and circumstances than boys, and their development seems to depend more exclusively upon the individual influence of the mother. the public school, the play-ground, the freedom of boyish sports, the early departure from home to college or business, the prizes offered to ambition, all exercise a powerful influence upon the boy, tending to modify the action of the mother's conscious training. more powerful than her intellectual and determined effort is usually her affectional influence, swaying him unconsciously and giving him always a centre for his heart and life, to which he returns from all his wanderings. for men, too, life, with all its evil, seems to be measurably adjusted. we do not hear constant discussions of men's sphere and men's education. each man is left very much to work out his own career, without the responsibility of the whole sex resting upon him. he is at liberty to make mistakes in his medical practice, to blow up steamboats by his carelessness, to preach dull sermons, and write silly books, without finding his whole sex put under ban for his shortcomings, and so he works with a sense of individual power and responsibility which calls out his energies, and educates him even in spite of the foolish cosseting of a mother or the narrow pedantry of a teacher. but in regard to woman, there is a general confession that life is not yet well adapted to her needs, or she to her place in the world. there is a perpetual effort to readjust her claims, to define her position, and to map out her sphere, and these boundary lines are arbitrarily drawn at every conceivable distance from the centre, so that what seems extravagant latitude to one, is far within the narrowest limits of another. very few have arrived at the conclusion that woman's nature, like man's, is self-determining, and that her character and her powers must decide her destiny; that instead of prescribing the outward limits of her action, the important point is to increase her energy, to regulate her activity by self-discipline, to purify her nature by nobility of thought and sentiment, and then to leave her free to work out her thought into life as she can and must. but this, it seems to me, should be the grand leading principle of a mother in the education of her daughter, to give her such faith in herself, such knowledge of the laws of her own being, such trust in the guiding power of the universe, that she will have a principle of life and growth within her which will react upon all outward circumstances and turn them into means of education. it is in this freedom alone that the essential meaning of her nature will show itself. in free, conscious obedience to law, natural limitations become a source of power, as the hardness of the marble gives effect to the sculptor's forming stroke; but all arbitrary restraints dwarf and deform the growing soul. but in the very beginning a great difficulty meets the mother of the girl who seeks to train her up into glad, free acceptance of life, for instead of general rejoicing in the birth of her child, too often there is a wail of discontent over the hapless infant who is "not a boy." it is an idea very deeply grounded in our social feeling, that it is a misfortune and an indignity to be a woman. true, all men do not, like the jews in the old service, insultingly thank god that he has not made them women, while the meek woman plaintively thanks god that he has made her at all. but how constantly is the thought and feeling expressed, that the boy is a more welcome comer into the family circle than the girl, and that the woman is to have a hard fate in life. and if the popular idea of woman be true, is it not a great calamity to be born a girl? "if man must work, and woman must weep," who would not choose the former lot? it is a very common thing to hear women wish most earnestly from their earliest to their latest hour of life, that they had been born men. it is very rarely that the youngest boy wishes to be a girl, or that men covet the vaunted privileges of womanhood. margaret fuller alludes feelingly to this prevailing sentiment in her noble _essay on woman_, and quotes southey the despairing cry of the paraguay woman, "lamenting that her mother did not kill her the hour she was born--her mother, who knew what the life of a woman must be." and yet, it seems to me, any woman is entirely unfit to educate her daughter who has not so sifted her life experience, so learned the meaning of her creation, so separated the accidents and follies of to-day from the divine purpose, as to read clearly the meaning of life, and to accept for her daughter, as for herself, the great fact of her womanhood; not with submission merely, but with a joyful recognition of its wonderful possibilities and its supreme glories. that this is possible to achieve, i might bring the testimony of women speaking from the midst of suffering and anguish, and yet rejoicing in the spiritual ideal of womanhood. mrs. eliza farnham has done great service by her eloquent vindication of the claims of womanhood, which she bases on very noble spiritual truths. but too often the high estimate of woman is placed on purely æsthetic and sentimental grounds, and does not satisfy the demands either of mind or heart in the hour of trial, or the practical common sense applied to daily life. it hardly strengthens a woman, to be told that women are more angelic by nature, more amiable, more religious, and more holy than men, when she is suffering from excessive nervous irritability, from neglected solitude, from want of employment suited to her feeble powers, or from the unused energies of mind and body which are devouring her day by day--to be called an angel, when she is only a drudge, is not consoling. the work must be begun early in life, and the mind of the girl must be braced by a recognition of natural law to the acceptance of all the conditions of her nature. but for this she must learn to distinguish between the ideal and the actual, between woman's nature as god designed it, and her nature as long years of hereditary sin and disease and false custom have made it; between the unfallen eve, the last best work of creation, and the daughters of corruption and luxury, bearing the sins of their fathers and their mothers for more than three or four generations. the mother must be prepared to meet the terrible questionings of her daughter on those points of physiology which are still baffling the most candid observers. she should prepare herself for this duty by obtaining all the knowledge of the subject that is possible to her. she will find that the laws of the human organization are marked by the same wisdom and beauty as those of the physical world; and many things which seemed dark and cruel will be seen to be beneficent and beautiful when their whole relation is understood. she may then give some reasonable answer to the question which the young intellect, struggling with the great problems of physical life, is so prone to ask, "why was i thus made?" it helps us very much to learn the _how_, even if we can never solve the _why_. every mother has not the power to answer these questions scientifically; but if she have it herself, she can at least inspire in her child a firm faith that everything in creation has its meaning and its use, and that until the workings of any function are made to promote the highest health and welfare of every human being, its law has not been discovered and obeyed. the very search after the answer to her inquiry, is often the healthful exercise of mind which will drive away morbid doubts. health is the holiness of the body, and every girl should have a high standard of perfect health set before her, and be made to feel that she has no more right to trifle with and disobey the hygienic laws, than those of morality or civil society. she should be as much ashamed of illness brought on by her own folly, as of being whipped at school for disobedience to her teacher. but how low, on the contrary, is the standard of health for woman! a thoroughly strong, able-bodied woman is almost an unknown ideal to american society. a physician pleading before a legislative committee of massachusetts a few years ago, bade the gentlemen present he grateful for their happy lot in being exempt from the infirmities that beset women. a very admirable teacher once said to me, "i tell my girls they mustn't complain if they do have to lose a year or two by ill health, it is hardly to be expected they should not." michelet treats semi-invalidism as the natural, inevitable, and charming condition of women. a perfectly healthy woman he considers to have lost her great charm. science makes the astonishing discovery, that on the whole, women average a little smaller than men, and society seems to accept the idea that therefore, the smaller they are, the more womanly. but before we decide upon this puny condition as the necessary state of woman, let us look at some of the facts on the other side, and see what are the possibilities of physical strength and health compatible with womanhood. in the university of michigan, pursuing her studies equally with the young men, is a young woman from kentucky, who measures six feet two inches in height, and is well proportioned. she has a younger sister there who is already five feet eight inches high, and growing very fast. at the south, the negro women performed every kind of labor in the field, and were said to plough better than men. in europe all kinds of hard work are performed by poor women; even yoked with animals for draught. in england women are employed in stacking large bars of iron. in dahomey the amazonian guards of the king perform all military duty with equal ease and thoroughness with men. now, if these things be possible to women of the poorer classes, and of other countries, it proves that it is not her essential womanhood, but her artificial life and her inherited weakness that makes the lady of western europe and america an habitual invalid. and this muscular power, though not the only essential to health, is of the very first importance, and, within proper bounds, is absolutely requisite for the healthy and full development of animal life. it is possible to carry muscular activity too far, or rather to make it exclusive of the exercise of other powers. the gladiator of old was not found to make the best soldier, nor did the wood-cutter bear the fatigues of the war as well as the cultivated citizen. but as a basis for other culture it is all-important. and it is especially needful for woman, for the great peculiar function of maternity requires the finest muscular power. it is the want of it, among other causes, which produces the pains and perils of child-birth, which are almost unknown to women of savage life. "the women of abyssinia," says a missionary there; "never rest more than two or three days after child-birth," while in luxurious athens, where women of the higher ranks were kept alike from physical and mental exertion, six weeks of seclusion was considered absolutely necessary. the german mother begins at the birth of her infant daughter to spin and weave the linen which is to form her dowry in marriage. if all mothers would begin to lay up for their daughters a dowry of muscular energy and nervous strength from the time of their birth, how would the mythical curse be removed from maternity, and the saddest of all deaths, that of the young wife in the first child-birth, be as rare as it is in abyssinia. the first requisite for the mother is to believe in a possible happy destiny for her child, and to seek to secure it for her. one great secret of all art, and therefore of all education, is the nice balancing of the generic with the special or the individual. coleridge says "this is the true meaning of the ideal in art." false culture, by the emphasis laid upon peculiarities of race, sex, or families, develops these peculiarities more and more, and tends to produce monstrosities, while nature always strives to mix the breed and restore the original type. nature has her own boundaries, which she does not pass over, but they are always delicate and nicely adjustable. when the gardener wishes bleached celery, or seedless bananas, or monster squashes, he gives special food in the soil of the plants, or covers them from the sun, or nips off the spraying tendrils, that he may produce the variety he covets, but when the farmer would raise corn or wheat for the millions, he ploughs deep into the soil of the prairie, sows his seed broadcast, and trusts it to the free influences of the sun and the winds, and the harvest that he reaps is reproductive, and may be multiplied for hundreds of years. it is curious in tracing the progress of both vegetable and animal life upwards towards humanity, to see how nature plays with the secondary distinctions of sex. the great distinction always remains of the fertilizing and the reproductive function; but as regards size, beauty, the care of the young, and all moral and mental qualities, there is the greatest diversity of manifestation. in some species, even, the male builds the nest and protects the offspring from the ferocious mother, who, like saturn, devours her own children, and sometimes, among fishes, even her mate. so is it in regard to the mental differences between men and women. few persons will deny that the difference of sex which runs through creation, colors every part of life; and yet the difference is so delicate, and so varied, that i have never heard any broad statement which was not liable to sufficient exceptions to destroy its value. i have again and again asked teachers of mixed schools, what difference do you find between the proficiency of the boys and girls in their various studies? where differences have been pointed out, they have often been just opposite in different schools, one claiming mathematics, another languages, another grammar, or logic, as specially adapted to feminine taste or capacity. so, in human education the first attention should be given to bringing out the broad, healthy powers of human nature, not to increasing any peculiar attributes. "how much of life," asked margaret fuller, "is the life neither of man or of woman, but of humanity?" every mother should seek to lay a firm foundation in this common ground of humanity, out of which the special flowers will grow more rich and abundant. especially should all premature recognition of sex be avoided; nature should be allowed to develop slowly and quietly. sex must be recognized; the names of brother and sister, the slight difference in costume are sufficient, but in play and work, and especially in dress and manners, the early distinctions between the sexes tend to produce mannishness on one side and effeminacy on the other. the girl's dress may be a little different in form, but why should the boy wear stout gingham or warm flannel, and she be clothed in fragile muslin, or expensive silk? why should he be able to climb fences or leap ditches without risk to his clothes, and she be kept in perpetual bondage by her ribbons and her ruffles? look at a boy's simple round straw or felt hat, with a plain band about it, and pity the little girl with her delicate chip and a wreath of artificial flowers. is it because the girl's physique is more delicate and complicated, that she is thus denied the natural and healthy exercise of her powers, and burdened with a load of finery under which the strong man would halt and stagger? the more delicate the organization, the smaller the lungs, the more absolutely important is perfect freedom of dress and motion, and the more essential is life in the open air. if we must keep any of the children in-doors let it be the boys; they will have out-door life afterwards, but let girlhood have its free play before custom and fashion fetter it forever. so, too, in manners; how many mothers apologize for their unendurable little ruffians by saying, "you know boys will be rude!" why should boys be rude? is not _gentleman_ our highest term for all that is honorable and manly? the physical power that is not under the control of higher qualities is rude, but rudeness is not evidence of power, only witness to the want of culture. a sadly pathetic vein runs through miss edgeworth's children's stories, especially _frank_, in the difference she makes in the life of man and woman. the children make a list of the virtues which should be cultivated by men and women, and courage is put down very low on the woman's side and first on the man's. but there is no sex in morals, and until courage is deemed essential to woman and purity to man there can be no moral perfection in either. still more is the direct appeal to sexual differences to be avoided in early childhood. many foolish parents encourage the custom of having little beaux and juvenile flirtations, and even very young children are taught games in which the boy takes out a girl as his partner, and the reverse. i once saw a dear little girl about four years old put her arm affectionately around the neck of a little playmate, and her father said, "oh, for shame, you shouldn't kiss a boy." could he have answered her simple question, "why not?" this is one of the important benefits of the co-education of the sexes. brought up together in schools as in families, side by side, from early childhood, there is no false mystery about their relation. their common life is developed, and they value each other for individual qualities. i have never found an exception to the statement by teachers of mixed schools, that there is less of nonsense, less of false sentimentality and precocious sexual attraction, than where the boys and girls are kept separate. in life as in art those characters are the finest in which the distinction of sex is recognized but not emphasized--in which the human nature preponderates over that of man or woman. in the hercules, the masculine attributes are exaggerated almost to repulsiveness, but in the apollo they are present, but they never intrude themselves upon our attention. vigor, freedom, life, and action, the inspiration of genius, joy in existence, are his attributes, and while the muses are feminine, he is the god of poesy and music. so the milo venus has all the traits of womanhood, but not in excess, and her sweet, dignified presence reminds us that she is a goddess, and not a weak, self-conscious woman, like the medicean image. but the type of womanhood in western europe and america has emphasized all that is weak, all that is sentimental, all that is helpless in woman, and attenuated it to such delicate proportions as to give it a strange and unnatural charm, like the beauty of consumption. let us recognize it as an exquisite creation of art, not of nature, as wonderful as the pouter pigeon or the saffron rose. the delicate whiteness of the complexion, scarcely tinged with pink, the fine silky hair, the fragile, willowy form, the tiny hand and foot, the languid blue eye, the soft, low voice, the sensitive nerves that shrink from every breath of heaven, and weep at every tale of woe, the slight cough that touches your compassion, the trembling step that appeals to you for help, are not these all characteristic of that fair, frail, lovely being, to whom sonnets are written and homage tendered when she is young and rich. a celebrated painter once heard a woman of this stamp commended as "very graceful." "graceful!" he indignantly exclaimed, "weakness isn't grace! strength and agility are the conditions of grace." one of the services of true art is to hold before us models of beauty which keep the eye pure amid the corruptions of fashion. the diana does not suggest any training of corsets or wearing of long skirts, yet poetry and fiction have helped to perpetuate this idea of the lady. shakespeare has given us his ophelia and desdemona, creations of this false theory, and i have heard men declare them to be perfect types of womanhood. in ruffini's charming story of _doctor antonio_, we have the same lovely heroine in our prosaic modern life. but mark how all these women utterly fail in the great hours of trial. all untrue to the demands of their love, all incapable of mating the men who have sought them. but in portia, in miranda, in imogen, we have women in whom is all the charm of womanhood without its exaggeration; they are independent noble existences, capable of living alone, and therefore able to meet nobly all the conditions of life and of love.[ ] we can almost forgive charles reade's later flippant creations of women, in whom moral weakness is considered as great a charm as physical delicacy, when we remember the charming picture of health and vigor which he first gave us in "christie johnstone." but while this admirable modesty of nature is the finest grace of humanity, yet there are limits which cannot safely be overpassed. nature rarely suffers one sex really to pass the common boundary and take on the special attributes of the other, seeming only to permit these extreme cases as warning and landmark. the contralto in woman and the tenor in man are delightful, but when the woman's voice is bass or the man's treble the impression is ludicrous. in due time the great distinction of sex rightly asserts itself, and the delicate distinctions between man and woman, so easy to feel and so difficult to state, begin to be recognized. then the broad general law of humanity will come to a more definite and varied expression in special natures. and although the mother will never forget the common ground of humanity which must underlie all training, she will prepare to meet the peculiar claims of her daughter's nature, and help her to understand and appreciate her needs and her powers. the child instinctively begins to inquire into physiological questions concerning marriage, birth, etc. there is but one way in which such questions should be met--with perfect truth in perfect reverence. to little children, utterly incapable of understanding the truth, the pretty fables of the stork or the angel may be harmless, but all earnest inquiries should be met with the simple truth as far as it can be understood, and the promise of full explanation whenever the mind is mature to receive it. the mother should anticipate this natural need of the mind for knowledge, and should prepare her daughter for initiation into the higher mysteries of human life by an acquaintance with life in its simpler forms, where it is not complicated by human passions. the functions of reproduction in vegetable life are the natural method of instruction, and lead the way to a recognition of the sacredness and beauty of the whole subject. the child's delight in the flowers of the field is easily deepened into intellectual instruction by pointing out the functions of the various organs and their beautiful adaption to use. in the care with which variety is sought the important lesson against intermarriage may be recognized, which fable and theology has surrounded with such fearful imaginings. next, the care of domestic animals will naturally interest the child, and from her kittens and her hens she will learn much, without excitement or effort, that will form a basis for the higher truths of human physiology. the mother should thus always anticipate in her own mind the needs of the daughter, and prepare her for the changes in her physical condition which will come with maturity, in the simplest, the tenderest, and the most reverent manner. everything approaching to levity or coarseness of speech should be utterly avoided, so that, while the young girl will speak frankly and without shame to her mother or her physician, she will shun light speaking to chance companions as she would blasphemy.[ ] and here the great lesson of a high standard of health should be re-enforced. there is no function of woman's nature which in its right exercise does not tend to strengthen, refresh, and revivify her physical and mental powers. if healthy, no one need interfere with any rational enjoyment, any reasonable amount of intellectual labor, or necessary work. all functions will be best regulated by a full, harmonious, normal development of all. and in physiology as in religion, the grand paradox holds true, "that he who loveth his life shall lose it, and he that hateth it for my sake shall find it." there is no surer way to destroy the health than to care for nothing beside it; and the most important condition for the young girl approaching maturity is to have her thoughts turned from herself to wide and large interests, and to have her mind and body healthily and regularly occupied. when any organ is feeble or diseased, the thing most to be avoided is fastening the mind upon its functions, so that nervous irritability or congestion is produced. and yet, as i have constantly intimated, the actual mother has to deal not alone with ideal womanhood, in full possession of a birthright of health, but very likely with a feeble and diseased being, who develops new forms of evil in every crisis of life. there she must be the watchful guardian, and recognize the limitations of her individual child, and with wise provision apportion the tasks and the pleasures to her peculiar needs. while all sickness is the result of broken law, it is rarely mainly the sufferer's own fault; and the mother will tenderly and lovingly shield her sickly child, and show her the rich compensations which are possible to her in mental and spiritual life, though she should never fall into the morbid error of believing physical weakness to be the most favorable condition of spiritual welfare. but if she is conscientious and true, really seeking her child's best good, instead of the indulgence of the hour, she will be more likely to err on the side of too much care than too little. even in such cases, she should seek more a positive than a negative care; striving rather to brace and fortify her daughter against the ills of life, than to shield her from them. "remember," said wise dr. jackson, "the danger is in staying in the house." for this reason, books especially written for the instruction of girls are often very pernicious. they emphasize certain topics in their relation to woman, and so excite disgust and produce abnormal excitement, where the simple teachings of science, reverently enforced, would produce only a sacred respect for law. the great responsibility of the transmission of hereditary qualities, may be early taught without any mental excitement. a little girl of twelve years old said to her teacher one day: "when you told me to brush my teeth, i thought, why should i--of what consequence will it be, fifty years hence, whether i do so or not; and then i thought that if i ever had a child, if i had bad teeth, she would be more likely to--wouldn't she?" "yes," replied the teacher with deep seriousness; "and that is a most sacred reason for guarding your own health and strength." perhaps no subject has been more fully dwelt upon than the danger of great intellectual activity for girls at this youthful period of life, and it has come to be thought that an idle brain insures a healthy body. but nothing can be more false. the brain, as the ruling organ of the body, requires a healthy, rich development; and this can only be secured by regular exercise and training, fully using but not overstraining its powers. the usual accompaniments of intellectual study are the cause of this false prejudice. close school-rooms, late hours of study, restless excitement from over-stimulated ambition, have no necessary connection with intellectual progress. much of the evil effect of schools comes not from too much intellectual activity, but from too little; from listless hours spent over lessons which under good conditions could be learned in half the time. mental action, continued after the brain is weary, or when it is not nourished by fresh blood, or under any disadvantages of physical condition which prevent it from being easy and delightful, will injure the system; and will prove a waste of mental power as well as of physical health. the greatest lesson that we have to learn in our mental life, is to value quality of work more and quantity less. everybody knows how much more exhilaration and less fatigue is experienced from a brisk walk, than from standing listlessly around for double the length of time; and it is just so with mental effort. we want neither feverish, excited work, nor lazy work; but earnest, hard, vigorous effort, ceasing when the brain is weary or the object is accomplished.[ ] i have yet to see the first proof in man or woman, that well-regulated activity of the brain injures the health. i have known many instances where vigor of body was restored by earnest mental life; and i believe that more young women sink into invalidism, or die prematurely, from the want of adequate thorough mental training, than from any other one physical or mental cause. for we must remember that the brain craves thought, as the stomach does food; and where it is not properly supplied it will feed on garbage. where a latin, geometry, or history lesson would be a healthy tonic, or nourishing food, the trashy, exciting story, the gossiping book of travels, the sentimental poem, or, still worse, the coarse humor or thin-veiled vice of the low romance, fills up the hour--and is at best but tea or slops, if not as dangerous as opium or whisky. lord bacon says most truly: "too much bending breaks the bow; too much unbending, the mind." after labor, rest is sweet and healthful; but all rest is as dangerous as all labor. one great trouble in women's intellectual life is that it is too much mere study, too little work with a purpose. it is all income without an outlet, and that, we know, always produces congestion and disease. mental dyspepsia might be the diagnosis of many an irritable, unhappy woman. she has eaten, but for want of exercise she cannot digest the intellectual food she has received. an active pursuit, an earnest purpose, is to the mind what out-door air and exercise are to the body. but in our present social system, where it is still considered out of place for a lady to work for her living, it is the hardest problem for a mother to solve, how to supply this most important need of her daughter. mental and moral influences are as real active agents in hygienic life as material ones. the reaction from asceticism, which despised the body and made it only a hindrance, or, at best, a slave to the soul, is in danger of going so far as to forget the rightful supremacy and control of the mental powers. a high purpose is often the best of tonics, as an agreeable amusement is the most refreshing of sedatives. a determination to live and work has kept many a person from the grave. but it must be a strong, calm, persistent purpose that will have this good effect, not the feverish ambition of an hour. the girl who works to gain a prize or to rush through school in less than the usual time, will doubtless exhaust her nervous system, and bring on disease or feebleness; but she who looks forward to a life of noble usefulness will learn to husband her powers, and make the future secure by wise forbearance in the present. when circumstances do not supply the needed stimulus to use of the mental faculties, by a demand for present work, the mother may keep before the mind of her daughter the great duty of preparation for contingencies that may arise, and show her how the rapid changes now taking place in our social system may at any time bring her new duties and responsibilities, for which she will need all her physical and mental powers. when harriet beecher was the leading spirit in a girls' society for mental improvement, she did not know that the intellectual gifts there developed would enable her to strike the keenest blow that slavery ever received in this country. when maria mitchell studied astronomy with her father she could not tell that a professorship at vassar college awaited her, and that her thorough fitness for it would prove a tower of strength to the cause of higher education for women throughout the country. keep the sword bright, keen, and well tempered, and opportunity will come to use it in defense of truth and right. i have said little, directly, of school education, because there comes in the teacher's influence, and, as regards intellectual training, it is usually better than the mother's. and though the mother should never yield her right of interest and ultimate appeal, yet, having selected a teacher, she should give her generous confidence and conscientious support. but she must always be watchful to guard her daughter's health, most of all against herself. from my own observation i should say that the overwork and over-stimulus complained of in schools is far more often the fault of pupils and parents than of teachers. the calm, steady work which lays a foundation for future mental power, is not appreciated, and brilliant results are demanded at once. and here i wish to speak of the study of music, as it is usually pursued. from the tradition of david's soothing saul by his harp, has, i believe, arisen an idea that music is a thoroughly healthful, refreshing influence, with a wonderful soothing power over the nerves. and yet the nervous excitability, and even irritability, of musicians is proverbial. we must make nice distinctions. the influence of hearing music is one thing, the study of music is another. unquestionably the power of music to lift the mind into fresh regions of enjoyment, to change the current of thought, to rouse and quicken the nervous action, and so to vivify and raise the tone of health and spirits is very great. i have known those to whom it is the best of medicine, and whom i believe it has saved through severe trials, from utter despair and morbidness. but even listening to music such as we now hear is a high intellectual exercise. a symphony of beethoven's, with its complicated movements and rich harmonies, is quite another thing from the simple melodies with which browning so beautifully represents david as soothing the troubled spirit of saul. and when to these are added the passionate fervor of the opera, the tax upon the nervous system is very great. properly to hear and appreciate the opera of _fidelio_ or _don giovanni_ or the _seventh symphony_ of beethoven requires as much exercise of brain as to listen to a scientific lecture. i do not deny its value as an influence, but it is a positive value, not a negative one. it is _re-creation_ rather than relaxation, and is no more fit to succeed a long, exhausting day of study than a sermon, or a disputation, or any other change of intellectual exercise. still more is the study of music, and the practice necessary to acquire command over so difficult an instrument as the piano, a very great tax upon the nervous strength of our young people. many mothers consider the music lesson only as the using up of so many minutes of time, and think it may rightfully be put into any hour of holiday or rest. i have heard music teachers say that their pupils came to them weary and listless, and their parents seemed to have no idea of the amount of intellectual and even physical exertion which the music lesson required. we cannot all become fine musical performers, but if the mind is well developed, with a healthy sensibility of feeling and culture of imagination, we can get all the influence and enjoyment of art from the works of thoroughly educated and creative artists, and we shall do so with more relish, without the weary remembrance of mechanical practicing uninspired by active interest. music leads the way to a world of the greater danger from over-stimulus of feeling and sentiment, than of intellectual work. few physicians allow enough for the immediate effect of spiritual causes upon the physical health. cheerful influences, sunny surroundings, happy relations, will save one through heavy tasks of work or privation; but any blight of the affections, any misunderstanding, or treachery of friends, the lowering of one's ideal of life and humanity, will depress the nervous system and ruin the health far more surely than even overwork of the purely intellectual faculties. often intellectual labor is the true antidote and corrective of this state of feeling. theodore parker once recommended a course of metaphysical study to a young lady, who, from physical weakness and other causes, had become morbidly nervous and introspective. i have spoken of the importance of thorough healthful training of body and mind in view of the natural conditions of marriage and maternity, which may be the lot of every woman. it is not possible to overstate the importance or the sanctity of these relations, but it is possible to look so much at the mere outside facts of marriage as to ignore its real meaning. the woman, falsely or carelessly mated, is far less married than she who keeps her ideal high and true and remains single; not because she values marriage too little, but because she has too great reverence to enter into it lightly or falsely. and the mother has far more need to fit her daughter to meet nobly the possibilities of unwedded life, than even the duties of marriage. marriage is so perfectly natural a state, that it reveals its own laws; and a simple, healthful, happy, trusting love, will guide woman more wisely than much precept. but in our present social state, the probability for any girl is by no means small that she may be called on to live out her life without entering upon this blessed relation. if she has been taught that woman's sphere is marriage and marriage alone, that only by that means can she hope for a life of happiness, usefulness, and respect, she will probably become a miserable, helpless, lonely, irritable woman--perhaps seeking marriage at any price to escape from the condition she dreads; or failing that, finding life without purpose, occupation, or delight. but if she has learned that providence is boundless in its resources, and that when one way is closed, another is opened, so that "all things work together for good;" if she knows that her nature will be far nobler without the form of marriage unless the spirit and truth can be present also, she will find that there is a life open to her a life of devotion to truth, right, and beauty, of service to humanity, and of love just as noble and true as she could attain in marriage. she is not fit to marry until she is fit to stand alone. unless life has a purpose and meaning of its own to her as well as to her husband, she cannot bring him an equal dower, and she has no test of the new feeling which should take its value from the richness of the life that she is ready to blend with another's. nothing marks the progress in the elevation of woman, during the last half century, more than the passing away of the opprobrious use of the term "old maid," which is now rarely heard. it is possible to remain unmarried from low motives, shrinking from the duties and responsibilities of the relation, or from a worldly ambition for higher station than love can offer. such sin brings its own terrible punishment with it. but far more often it is from a high ideal of marriage, from true nobility of character, or from devotion to some other relation which seemed paramount, that a woman remains single. how many a woman, hiding in her secret heart the romance that gave a charm to her youth, but did not find its reality in life, has devoted herself to the service of humanity with all the passionate devotion of a lover to his mistress! of such an one, to whom hundreds of helpless babes looked up as to a guardian and protector, an artist said, "she has the mother in her face." we owe too much to this noble class of women, in art, literature, and philanthropy, and in the service of the country in its most trying hour, ever to forget their claims, and he will be forever stigmatized as unworthy of the name of pure and noble manhood who sneers at the virtue which he cannot understand, or vilifies with opprobrious epithets the noble women whom theodore parker--god bless him for the word--called his "glorious phalanx of old maids."[ ] another wrong is often done to the young girl, under the name of prudence or worldly wisdom, by breaking down her ideal of life, and especially her ideal of the possible partner of her future life. tennyson speaks of one form of this, in addressing the vain coquette as the possible future mother:-- "oh, i see thee old and formal, fitted to thy petty part, with a little hoard of maxims, preaching down a daughter's heart." men often speak of the pain it is to them to see the debasement of woman, because she represents to them an ideal of good, the other nobler self, for which they must strive. man should represent the same thing to woman. love should see in its object the very crown and glory of creation. "the person love to us doth fit, like manna, hath the taste of all in it." but the low social standard of morals and manners for man has so degraded him, that the very ideal of manhood is belittled, and the mother warns her daughter not to expect much from her future husband; she has no right to hope for the loyalty of sir philip sydney or the pure ideality of michael angelo. it is a great wrong to man to demand so little from him. all human beings from childhood upwards are stimulated by the opinion entertained of them, and the claims upon them for noble and high behavior. whatever your own experience, do not thrust the poison of doubt and unbelief in goodness into a daughter's mind. let her keep her faith and her romance, and look for a hero to win her young heart. true, it is hard to see a thaddeus of warsaw with a cigar in his mouth, or to imagine hamlet with a blue veil about his hat, but nevertheless the race of heroes is not extinct, and the girl had better preserve her faith and her love till the true knight appears, than accept the dreary belief that all men are alike unworthy, and that she must not ask for a purity and truth which exist only in the dreams of romance. man's low idea of woman has reacted upon him; her elevation will restore him to his true dignity, as equally entitled to spiritual and moral elevation of soul and refinement of manners with herself. it is as demoralizing to young women to hold men in contempt, as it is for young men to have a low idea of women. "in honor preferring one another" is the true condition of love, and no one has truly loved who has not exalted the beloved far above one's self. but, after all that i have said, perhaps at too great length, i come back to my original thought of the grand art of education as of life. do not dwell upon petty details or exaggerate accidental peculiarities. lay your foundations broad and deep in the common ground of humanity. base your calculations on the sure ground of universal law. then, gradually, out of this common earth will grow up the special flower, true to its own individual law, which is just as sacred and unalterable as the general law. all the art of the gardener cannot transform the oak to a willow, or produce the blue dahlia, though by its aid the sour crab has become a mellow apple, and the astringent pear, the luscious bartlett. we need to study the great subject of education more, and to talk less about the special peculiarities of woman's education, and we shall find that the greater includes the less, and that the more thoroughly we develop all the powers of mind, the more eminently will each woman be fitted to perform her own peculiar work in life. i did once see a man crippled of both legs, who claimed to be specially able to manage a washing-machine because he stood lower than other men. i honored his acceptance of his limitation, but still think the ordinary complement of legs an advantage not to be despised. the great duty of the educator is to place his wheel so that the stream will fill its buckets evenly. far more than you can do directly for your daughter, will the great social forces, the influences of custom, society, hereditary tendencies do for her; but you can hold the helm and keep the rudder firmly fixed towards the pole-star of truth and right; and so, from all these forces thus combined, and from the overflowing fullness of a mother's love, always warming and kindling the spirit of life, however much you may err in details, on the grand basis of humanity, and in the consummate perfection of her own individuality you may rear "a woman nobly planned to warn, to comfort, and command; and yet a spirit still and bright, with something of an angel's light." edna d. cheney. jamaica plain, mass. [note.--i have said nothing of the father's influence upon the education of girls, simply because i was not writing on that subject, but i do not wish to be suspected of undervaluing it. by the beautiful law of relation between the sexes, a father may often have a finer understanding of his daughter on some points, than the mother, and one of the great needs of our home life seems to me to be the more intimate acquaintance and influence of the father.] footnotes: [ ] it is a little curious that shakespeare even in his age has made these three finest types of women "reading women." portia was highly educated, miranda the companion of her learned father, and imogen sits up late at her book. [ ] the well-educated woman physician should be the friend and counselor of the mother during this anxious period. it seems a strange fact, but it is one, nevertheless, that the nearest family tie does not always lead to perfect freedom and confidence, and a wise stranger can often give the help that even a mother cannot. the physician should here be, not the _mediciner_ to disease alone, but the guardian of health; and the wise woman who has her own experience to guide her, as well as the learning of the schools, can speak with an authority which will be respected when that of the mother fails. quite as often, perhaps, she will have to shield the daughter from the unwise demands which the ambitious mother makes upon her, as from her own vanity or love of pleasure. [ ] dr. carpenter says in his _physiology_: "from the moment when an indisposition is experienced to keep the mind fixed upon the subject, and the thoughts wander from it unless coerced by the will, the mental activity loses its spontaneous or automatic character, and more exertion is required to maintain it volitionally during a brief period; and more fatigue is subsequently experienced from such an effort than would be involved in the continuance of an automatic operation through a period many times as long. hence he has found it practically the greatest economy of mental labor to work vigorously when he is disposed to do so, and to refrain from exertion, so far as possible, _when it is felt to be an exertion_." "of course, this rule is not applicable to all individuals; for there are some who would pass their whole time in listless inactivity, if not actually spurred on by the feeling of necessity; but it holds good for those who are sufficiently attracted by objects of interest before them, or who have in their worldly circumstances a sufficiently strong motive to exertion to make them feel they must work--the question with them being, _how_ they can attain their desired results with the least expenditure of mental effort." [ ] there lately died near boston, a woman of eighty years, whose life exemplified the very truth i have been seeking to enforce. full of courage and zeal, she withstood all the prejudices of her birth and surroundings, freed her own slaves, and then devoted herself with voice and pen to the anti-slavery cause, to the enfranchisement of woman, and to every good word and work that she could aid. her high literary attainments, as well as her earnest purpose, gave her great power of thought and expression, and she was the wise counselor of many of the foremost men and women among the reformers of the day. as her brother-in-law, himself a noble man of high culture, stood by her coffin, with eyes filled with tears, these were the words of his eulogium upon this woman of dauntless courage, firm purpose, and tender heart: "for this dear saint and moral heroine, there is only one word that expresses what she was, and that is love. he that dwelleth in god dwelleth in love. she dwelt in love which went out to win the warmest friends among all sects and conditions of life, and so she dwelt in god. her love never failed." all who heard, felt how beautiful must have been the private life which could receive such a tribute from such a man. has such a woman missed the crown and glory of womanhood? the other side. "all mankind must serve; the widest sway is but the law of service."--festus. "i rejoice in the decline of the old brutal and tyrannical system of teaching, which, however, did succeed in enforcing habits of application, but the new system, as it seems to me, is training up a race of men who will be incapable of doing anything which is disagreeable to them."--john stuart mill in his autobiography. the other side. "this is a hard world," said a morbid girl of fourteen some forty years ago. "yes," answered cheerfully the well-known apostle to whom she spoke, "and god meant it should be a hard world." when later he himself was caught up into heaven in a chariot of fire, the serene face showed how gladly he had accepted this "meaning" as his father's will. it is not so with the greater number of the world's workers to-day. james mill, to whom we are indebted for some of the very best intellectual work, thought life was not worth having, and was so devoid of spiritual perception that he could get no glimpse of a god in a "world full of sin and misery." this proves nothing as to the universe. it only shows how unhappily one great man has missed the music of the spheres, and failed to catch the "meaning" of god's work. for mother and child, for teacher and pupil, the first essential point is to accept this fact. only so, can the sweet order of a divine life be brought out of the chaotic elements stirring in every soul. the mother, who holds the month-old infant at her breast, and gently imprisons the tiny fingers that would tear her laces, or disorder her hair, takes the first step towards the development of moral consciousness. let her repeat again and again that gentle restraint, and by-and-by wide open eyes will ask her why, and when it is once understood that food can be had only while the little fingers are quiet, the first foundations of obedience are laid. so far most mothers go, for their own comfort's sake. if they had but the resolution to go still farther, for the sake of the child's life-long content! no child respects the teacher who does not _control_. all the modern methods--including lavish gifts and the gilding of all bitter pills--fail absolutely before the clearsightedness of youth. if we older people know how to rise to the occasion and thank those who demand the best of us, still more certainly is this to be expected of the young and the fresh-hearted; but if it were not, our duty remains the same. so much discipline as shall preserve order, develop respect, and make possible such opportunities as the young soul needs, is the first point. it is idle to ask how this is to be secured. no two children can be managed alike, and it is the variety of her tasks which consoles the mother for her daily fatigue, and inspires her for the encounter. until the child is taught deference, it is idle to teach it latin; until it sees the necessity of self-control, and the beauty of self-denial, grammar and mathematics are to be dispensed with. in one word, the foundation of all true development lies in preserving the natural relation of parent and child. whatever turns the child into a tyrant and the mother into a slave, degrades the ideal of both, and makes any true progress impossible. to do what is difficult and disagreeable with a faithful and cheerful spirit, is the first great achievement, remembering, nevertheless, that god is a loving father, not a hard master. yet, loving as he is, his laws are inexorable. the baby stumbles, and bruised limbs or swollen lips warn it against the second careless step. young and tender as it is, severity encircles it on every hand. is it possible that we are no longer "perfect even as he is perfect" in this regard? but let us suppose this point gained, a foundation laid, what obstacles lie in the way of the teacher of to-day? the conscientious and well-meant answer to this question, from the majority of persons is, the health of the pupils. worst of all, this answer comes from the physicians. we are often told that the health of women now is not as good as it was generations ago, and this has been repeated and repeated until everybody believes it. a long time ago, i was walking through broad street in company with john collins warren, when i alluded hastily to a severe attack of croup from which my little boy was suffering, and said, impatiently, that it seemed as if all my care might secure for him as happy a babyhood as that of the little things whose frozen heels were at that moment hitting the curbstone. "you do not ask how many of these children die," replied my friend, "and if your boy had been born down here, he would not have lived six months." we are apt to ignore the large class of existing facts of this same kind. civilization has done so much for human health that the invalids who once died, survive; nay, they do more, they marry, and bring into the world other invalids, who need special care; and, whereas, in the old time, out of a family of twelve, five or six would die in infancy with a persistency worthy of a better cause, the whole twelve would be saved by modern science; and not only that, but enter into the statistics which are intended to show how much worse off we are now than the typical men and women of the past. a few years ago i watched beside the death-bed of a woman who was the only child of an only child of an only child. i mean that for three generations the mother had died of consumption after the birth of her first-born, and in the first instance was herself the sole survivor of a large family. when my friend was born, it was said at first that she could not live, but her father was a physician, and his care in the first place, and removal from a country to a city life in the second, conquered fate. she did live, she married, and became the mother of ten healthy children, all of whom survive, and died herself at the ripe age of seventy-three. it is difficult to write upon this subject, because there are no proper statistics. during the seventy-five years that succeeded the settlement of new england, the record of deaths was very imperfectly kept in many places, but no one who gives much time to genealogical research can fail to be impressed with the short lives of the women, and the large number of children who died at birth or soon after. in those days, the "survival of the fittest" was the rule, and if that survivor happened to live to a good old age, no one inquired about those who did not. i allude to these facts, as i have done before, not because i think them of much importance, but because it is desirable to set them against the equally undigested facts of general invalidism which have been so persistently pressed of late. i do not believe in this general invalidism, so far as it concerns women especially. i believe that in no country, in any age, was life ever so reckless, and so carelessly dissipated as it is in america to-day. in sybaris itself, in corinth, and in paris, only a few wealthy people could indulge in the irregular lives which the unexampled prosperity of this country opens to the great bulk of the population. i am amazed when i see it stated that "length of time cannot transform the sturdy german fräulein into the fragile american girl." the influence of climate does this in one generation for our irish and german population. standing in the mills at lawrence, the pale faces and constant cough of the operatives will attest these words to any competent observer. during the past three years i have parted with three satisfactory irish servants, who were in the incipient stages of consumption. i dismissed them because no influence of mine could persuade them to retire early, wear waterproof shoes, or thick and warm clothing. in a singular preface to the fifth edition of a work which has lately occupied the public mind the author says: "when a remission or intermission is necessary, the parent must decide what part of education shall be remitted or omitted, the walk, the ball, the school, or all of these."--"no one can doubt which will interfere most with nature's laws, four hours' dancing or four hours' studying."--"in these pages the relation of sex to mature life is not discussed." it is necessary to state at the outset, that this preface does not in the least represent the book as it naturally strikes the reader. women may read carelessly, as they have been accused of doing in this instance, but when hundreds of women, writing from all parts of the country, in private and in public, and without concert with each other, all testify to the same impression received, it is impossible that the carelessness of numbers should always feel the same bias. it is quite certain that four hours of dancing is far more injurious to a delicate girl than four hours of steady study: why, then, in considering the education of girls, does the author steadily avoid all cases where dancing, late hours, and bad food, have been known to interfere with health? what satisfaction can any girl find in the fact, that the period of mature life is not covered by the statements in this volume? the period of a working life is included in the years between fourteen and nineteen, and as matters now are, society life is nearly ended at twenty. if the beginning of brain-work were deferred till a girl were jaded with dissipation, how much could be accomplished in season for self-support? schools vary in varying localities, and since women are hereafter to be elected on every school committee, it is reasonable to suppose that unwise pressure from that source will soon cease. all figures of speech are misleading, but it is quite fair to meet the statement that we must not train oaks and anemones in the same way, by retorting that that is precisely what god does. he gives to different plants different powers of appropriation, sets them in precisely the same circumstances, and leaves them. the sturdy oak, that centuries of storm have beaten into firmness, which fits it to encounter the fiercest blows of the wave; the stately pine, which is to tower as main-mast when the gale is at its height, stand serried or single on the mountain's peak. at their feet nestles the wind-flower, quite as confident of its destiny, although no sun is moderated, no shower abated for its tender sake. it is protected by the very way in which it is made, by its very loneliness, pregnant as that is with the charm of sweetness and color. so might it be with woman! private schools in our large cities cannot be said to overwork their pupils. fifty years ago, when my mother was educated, far more was required of girls at school than was ever possible in my day. thirty years ago, when my school education ended, far more was possible to me than has ever been required of my daughter. it is the uniform testimony of teachers, that girls now study less, that the hours of recitation are fewer, and that dilatoriness and absences are far more frequently excused than was once the case. at the most fashionable, and also the best conducted school in boston fifty years ago, my mother was allowed no study time in school, and committed thirty pages of history as a daily lesson. for myself, at a time when we were pursuing languages and the higher mathematics, we took a whole canto of dante three times a week, and were required to give an explanation of every historical allusion. i had no study time in school; but neither my mother, nor myself, nor any girls in my class, were in the least injured by anything required of us. during the whole of our school life, we "thought and understood" as children, and very reluctant we were to "put away childish things." we rose for a bath and walk before a seven o'clock breakfast, nine o'clock found us at school, and we returned to a two o'clock dinner. in the afternoon we walked, or rode on horseback, or studied together for an hour. we took tea at six or half past six o'clock, and the curfew ringing at nine found us preparing for bed. we had no time for unsuitable reading, and none of the cares or dissipations of maidenhood perplexed our straight forward way. if we could secure this simplicity for our children, we should have small reason to be anxious about their health. what, then, are the drawbacks to a teacher's efforts to-day? if girls are not studying too hard and too much, what are they doing which stands in the way of a true education, taking the word in the broadest sense? the teacher's first obstacle lies in the superficial character of the american mind. we have scarcely one in the country capable of being a hard student. the whole nation repels the idea of drudgery of any sort, and the most conscientious teacher has to contend against a home influence, which, working at right angles with her own, hardly allows any noble effort. next to this is inherited tendency: from fathers fevered with restless mercantile speculation, or tossed between "bulls and bears" in wall street, or who allow themselves to indulge in practices which their daughters are supposed never to know, girls inherit an "abnormal development of the nervous system," and every fibre in their bodies feels the "twist in the nerves." from mothers of large families, overworn with house-work themselves, or, still worse, fretted by the impossibility of keeping a home comfortable, aided only by unwilling and half-trained servants, girls inherit a depressed and morbid tendency to call life "hard." the spirit of the age is also against them. they do not have the help which comes from a trusting religious spirit. the "conflict of the ages" has penetrated to the heart of almost every household, and care is too seldom taken to save that love of god and trust in his fatherly care, upon which the comfort and happiness of the young so much depend. it seems to me that very few parents realize this. if a girl has a loving mother, it is not enough. she needs, still farther, the consciousness of that sustaining power which holds both her and the universe in its embrace. if she has not a loving mother, how can she endure life without this support? but let us suppose that the teacher has met and vanquished these difficulties--she has enemies still at hand that our ancestors never knew. the girls whom she teaches live in high houses, piled storey upon storey, so that three or four flights of stairs come between them and the open air--between them and healthful play. the crowd of people who go annually to europe, and bring home its follies instead of its charms, have succeeded in changing our simple midday meal into a dinner of many courses, eaten under the gaslight. at this meal the young girl finds food very different from the roast mutton, and bread and butter eaten daily by her english sister at the same age. she has tea and coffee at other meals, and probably a glass of wine at this, especially if she is thought to be studying hard. in the afternoon, she has no longer simple, happy life in the open air. although her ear be so deficient that she may hammer all the afternoon over an exercise that she will not recognize when she hears it well played at a concert the same evening, she is kept at her instrument as if all her salvation of body and soul lay in the keys of the piano. the irritability which bad habits, bad food, and the want of fresh air develop, needs the counterpoise of a fresh excitement--so a german, the opera, or a tragedy, occupies her evening hours. three or four days in the week, at least, she is up till midnight, and rises just in time to get to school at nine. she never stands in the cool evening air to see the red sun sink below the hills; she misses the holy calm of the early morning, which falls upon a flushed and heated life as its dews fall on the flowers. dissipation, either mental or physical, crowds every cranny of her life. parents object to every lesson out of school, so the whole period of preparation and recitation is pressed into the school-hours. her dress is wholly unsuited to health; and when i say this, i wish to be understood as saying nothing in favor of bloomers or any other special dress. an intelligent woman can decide for herself and her children as to what need of change there is in her dress; and many of us have worn for half a century clothes that were loose, well adjusted, and healthful, without drawing attention to any peculiarity. nor must there be any tyrannical dictation on this subject. some of us prefer to rest our clothes upon our shoulders; some of us are only comfortable when they depend upon the hips. it cannot be denied that the heavily-weighted skirts now in vogue are uncleanly and unwholesome, even when worn short; and while school-girls elaborate, friz, powder, and puff their hair like their elders, and trim their dresses to such excess, it will be impossible for them to find time for consecutive study. every separate curl, lace, or fold, becomes a separate cause of worry; and "worry" lies at the bottom of american degeneracy, male and female. every heart in this country came to a sudden pause the other day, when the name of agassiz was moaned out by the funeral-bells of cambridge. who ever worked harder than he? "without haste, yet without rest," his summer's recreation became the hardest work of the world; but in his life an ever-flowing cheerfulness, and a genial welcome for any honest soul, showed the healthfulness of his busy walk. if anything shortened his three-score and ten years, it was the care and anxiety which insufficient appropriation and political indifference or chicanery crowded into his later life. the scholar, young or old, must keep a calm and well-poised mind. let our mothers consider whether this is possible to children upon whom the follies of mature life are crowded in infancy. if in idle moments the children of this generation take up a book, it is no longer a simple bible story, or a calm classic of the english tongue, but the novels of miss braddon, mrs. southworth, or mrs. wood wake them into a premature life of the imagination and the senses. before they are six years old they hold weddings for their dolls, enact love scenes in their tableaux, or go to theatrical exhibitions as stimulating as the "black crook," if less offensive to the taste. the skating parties and gymnastics are also fruitful sources of ill-health. the girl prepares herself for the former by inflating and over-heating her skirts over the register in the hall-floor; a few minutes' exercise chills the hot drapery--what wonder that a morbid bodily sensitiveness follows the insane exposure? no thoughtful person can watch a class of gymnasts, without seeing how extreme and unnatural are many of the attitudes assumed, especially for women. what would be thought of making bread or sweeping floors, if these compelled such attitudes, or brought about such fatigue? the sleep of these exhausted pupils is often broken, by what has been wittily called a "panorama on the brain," in which the worries, excitements, dissipations of the day, are incessantly repeated, and they rise late, more wearied than they went to bed. in spite of eminent authority to the contrary, mothers observe that it is their sons who require the largest allowance of sleep, and who keep the morning meal waiting; but if the growing girl cannot sleep, she should be compelled to lie in bed the proper number of hours, and it is obvious, that sleep like that i have described is no refreshment, and furnishes no opportunity for repair of tissue. "i want to borrow a book, doctor," said a patient the other day to a famous specialist. "any book upon my shelves, madam," was the reply, "except those which concern the diseases of women," and the lady turned disappointed away. it behooves all those who have the care of children of both sexes, to bear their possible futures silently in mind; but all talk to them, or before them, all reading upon physiological subjects, during the period of development, should be forbidden, for the reasons that dictated the answer of the specialist; children should be instructed long before the developing period. i cannot tell what might be possible if we had to deal with girls in a normal state of health; but the girls and women of to-day are encouraged to a morbid consciousness of sex; and i believe, that all that relates to personal care should be ordered by those who are the natural guardians of the young, without unnecessary explanation or caution. when development begins, special treatment is required; not according to the sex so much as according to the individual; and no parent or teacher can dictate to another on general grounds. that school or family is an absolute failure which does not allow a margin large enough and loose enough for all possible contingencies, as regards boys or girls. if any one thinks the picture of youthful life which i have drawn an exaggerated one, let him read the books commonly published, descriptive of child-life, and once convinced, he will not wonder that the "number of invalid girls is such as to excite the gravest alarm." from all the cares imposed by dress, and from much of the weakness deduced from furnaces and high-storeyed houses, boys are exempted by their habits and general custom. if it is thought by any one that the boys of to-day are stronger than the girls, let them be subjected to the same regimen, and the result fairly reported. let their steps be clogged by skirts, embroidered or plaited into death warrants; let them be kept at the piano or running up and down stairs when they should be in bed or at play; let them read sentimental novels or worse, and hang over the furnaces, instead of frolicking in the open air. we shall understand better, when this experiment is once tried, that god makes boy and girl alike healthy; but that social folly has, from the very first, set the girl at a disadvantage. do sisters "imitate brothers in persistent work everywhere?" nay, it is not the brothers whom they imitate, but their own steadfast, god-implanted instincts, which they thus attempt to work out. girls cannot do two things well at a time. then let them resign the life of fashion, excitement and folly, and give themselves to study, fresh air and an obedient life in a well-disciplined home. every teacher of to-day will tell them, that those girls who go most regularly to school are healthier than those who lead desultory lives, and that among the students of any one school or college, the healthiest are generally those who work the hardest. this is as true of boys as of girls. it is not the "honor man" who breaks down at college, but he who leads an irregular and idle life. it is true, for the very simple reason, that hard study is incompatible for any length of time, or in other than very exceptional cases, with luxurious habits, over-eating or drinking, late hours, or excessive dissipation. in this recent work it has been stated, that all schools are adjusted to meet the requirements of men; and in quoting a case which was wholly imaginary, so far as its supposed connection with vassar college was concerned, the author goes on to say: "the pupil's account of her regimen there, was so nearly that of a boy's regimen, that it would puzzle a physiologist to determine from that alone, whether the subject of it were male or female." of course, these words are intended to express disapprobation, and carry a doubt as to the fitness of vassar college to educate girls. nothing could be more unjust or preposterous than the conclusions likely to be deduced from this statement. we are told that from fourteen to nineteen, no girl must be encouraged to persistent effort in study, or anything else. now, the laws of life are absolute, and if proper habits of study have not been formed by the age of nineteen, they never can be formed in this life; the girl who gives only an intermittent attention to study up to her twentieth year, is prevented by all the influences about her from "intermitting" the press of her social duties, so i will not deny that it was the happiest surprise of my life when the first four years of vassar college showed me that there were still hundreds of girls willing to come to poughkeepsie, after they were eighteen years old, and shut themselves out of the world for four years, abandoning gayeties of all sorts, the german, the opera, and the parade, that they might fit themselves for the duties of their future life. the debt of this country to matthew vassar's memory can hardly be exaggerated. in eight years of steady work, the college has contrived to exert an influence that is felt in all parts of the united states and of canada. this is an educational influence in the broadest sense; it pertains to dress, habits, manners, regularity of life, and sleep; the proper preparation and serving of food, physical exercise, physiological care, safe and healthful study, and the highest womanly standards in all respects. the college has received delicate pupils, whom she has sent out four years after, strong and well; and it is the rule, that the health of the classes steadily improves from the freshman to the senior year. vassar has been fortunate in retaining its resident physician throughout the whole eight years of its existence, and if the faculty were to grow careless, the parents, educated by what she has been accustomed to give, would demand the care that their children need. the pupils of vassar belong to no special class in society, and are drawn from varied localities. when the college opened, she had upon her faculty three women whose peers it would be hard to find, for excellence of character, refinement of feeling, delicacy of manner, attainment in science, and a quiet elegance of dress. of these, one is now gathered to a wider sphere of usefulness, so we speak of hannah lyman by name, as a woman whose equal most of the students would never have seen, if good fortune had not taken them to vassar. the first pupils of vassar were thoughtful women, who had been long prepared for its expected opening. they appreciated at once the lofty influence of these examples, and the reverent respect they always showed was impressed upon every succeeding class. these teachers were in every detail of their lives, what intelligent, modest, and cultivated women should be. as to dress, so far as example and counsel could do it, the pupils were taught simplicity. as to habits, they were taught regularity, order, cleanliness, and the self-denial in small matters which would prevent then from annoying one another. as to manners, the courtesy shown by so finished a gentlewoman as miss lyman, not only in all her intercourse with the faculty and the teachers, but to the pupils, in all the minute details of official and social intercourse, took effect, as no lessons born of foreign travel or intercourse with the world could ever have done. it was courtesy growing out of character and conscience; it was not the mere dictation of custom. to live with such regularity as vassar enforced for four years, made it almost certain that these pupils would never fail of that divine blessing for the rest of their lives. their meals were served at the minute, their rising and retiring were at the proper hours, and sleep was as secure as good health, cheerful minds, and moderate excitement could make it. their food was of the best material, of good variety, and most careful preparation. it is not too much to say, that none of the girls could ever have seen in their own homes such perfect bread and butter, so abundant milk and meat, or simple delicacies so carefully served without interruption for four years. their exercise was watched by the resident physician, and every flagging step or indifferent recitation was supposed to have two possible bearings, one upon the goodwill of the student, the other upon some incipient physical derangement. their study hours were carefully regulated by teachers who knew what girls could properly accomplish, and when a question arose it was decided in the only proper way--practically. i was present once when a pupil complained to hannah lyman of the impossibility of preparing a lesson in arithmetic in the prescribed time. that night miss lyman sat late over her own slate, and by going slowly through every process required of the pupil, justified the complaint and corrected the error. in all table manners and social life, the girls at vassar had the highest standard constantly before them, and when they went out into the world at the end of four years, they carried into their varied homes wholly new ideas about dress, food, proprieties, and life. the conditions of a girl's successful growth, we are told, are to be found in-- . abundant and wholesome food. . care in all relating to her health. . work so apportioned as to leave room for growth, beyond the mere repair of tissue, and-- . sleep. in no homes that i know in america, are all these points so completely secured as at vassar. every year, about one hundred girls leave this institution, to take their positions in life. some of them are to be teachers, some mothers, some housekeepers for father or brother, but they will not go to either of these lives, ignorant of that upon which family comfort depends. never again will they be content with sour bread or a soiled table-cloth; never again will they mistake arrogant self-assertion for good-breeding, or a dull, half-furnished "living-room" for a cheerful parlor. they have all been taught the virtue which lies in mother earth, and the fragrance she gives to her flowers; they know the health and power given by the labor of their hands and the use of their feet. fortunately, the girls at vassar come under few of the precautions required for growing girls[ ] but of those who are younger, it may be said that the impending maidenhood sometimes makes such heavy draughts upon the circulation, that a girl's real safety is found in steady study or persistent manual labor; the diversion of blood to brain or muscles relieving the more sensitive growing organs. "i have longed to put my word into this discussion," wrote an experienced teacher to me from the city of portland the other day, "for i hold that hysterics are born of silly mothers and fashionable follies, and i find them easily cured by equal doses of ridicule and arithmetic." the 'arithmetic,' or other severe study that corrects or prevents morbid notions, that diverts a girl's thoughts from herself; her functions, and her future, is in most cases the best medicine. of this developing period of life it may be even more safely said than of any other, that "constant employment is constant enjoyment," and this employment, though steady, must be varied, so as to shift the effort from one set of powers or muscles to another. i am not one of those who believe that girls require more care than boys through this period, if the laws of life are properly observed in both cases; and i think that when women and mothers come to utter words of the same scientific weight on this subject, their testimony will differ entirely from that of the leading physicians who now hold the public ear. it is claimed that man is made for sustained, and woman for periodic effort. it is by no means certain that this is so, and if it be indeed a law of organization, then it must be a law which will dominate the whole life. it will not only keep a girl back from mastering her tools until the time for using them is passed, but it will interfere with her steady use of them through her whole life, shut her out from the markets of the world, and unfit her for all steady, consecutive duty, either public or private. let no girl be deterred from steady and faithful work in the vain fear that she will unsex herself, and to a loving mother's needful anxieties let not this superfluous care be added. true, we may all make mistakes as to what is desirable, needful, or possible, but to the humble seeker after the right way, a clear sight will always come, and to the preposterous cautions, born of a morbid and unwise interference with the courses of life, i oppose these words quoted from that "physiology of moses," which it is said that we have not outgrown: "ye shall not offer unto the lord that which is bruised or crushed or broken or cut;" these words are true, whether spoken of a dove's feathers or a girl's soul; or the still later and wiser words, "take, therefore, no thought for the morrow, for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself." the foundations of true manhood and true womanhood are fortunately laid too deep for our meddling. it is true that we may destroy the perfume of life, for men and women, by mistaken efforts and perverse guidance, but the fruit of our error is not immortal, and it is never too late to retrieve our false steps. so far from losing what is best in either sex, as we advance in life, we may be sure that increasing years will find it intensified; that so long as men and women live, they may, if they desire, they _must_, if they are faithful, grow more manly and more womanly. if they draw nearer to each other, as they sit hand in hand looking towards the sunset, it is only because they are both heirs of the immortal, seeking and gaining the same end. it is impossible to dismiss these considerations without touching afresh the subject of co-education. but we need not rest upon the family fact or the old common school system. oberlin was the pioneer in the system of co-education, a system into which she was forced, not so much by fanatical theories as by the cruel hand of poverty. for forty-one years she has held up her banner in the wilderness, and in i found her with nearly twelve hundred pupils. it was very largely to her men and women that the country owed its safety in the last war. as governors of states, generals of armies, and mothers of families, or teachers of schools, they kept the nation to its duty. from this beginning twenty-five colleges had sprung in . it is nothing to the argument that these colleges may not present as high a standard of classical attainment as harvard or yale, if that should turn out to be the fact. for more than thirty years a large number of them have been proving the possibility of co-education, and their graduates are not the unhappy childless women of massachusetts, but the happy and healthy women of the west, who are strong in proportion as they are busy, and whose "children are plenty as blackberries." beside these twenty-five colleges, antioch has been working steadily for twenty-four years, and in addition to the small institutions scattered all through new york and the middle states, cornell has lately opened her doors to the same system. all those who have practical experience of its results know how much wiser, sweeter, and more serene is the life that is shaped by its methods. it is a subject on which argument is alike useless and undesirable. we must observe and be guided by the practical result. we are told that public duties are more exacting than private. no woman will be found to believe it. it may be often difficult to estimate the heavy stake that underlies the small duty. "a man must labor till set of sun, but a woman's work is never done;" and while this distich hints at the truth, it is certain that private life will continue to make upon her as heavy demands as the human constitution will bear. for every reason then, a healthy mind in a healthy body is the first thing to be sought. it is to be borne in mind that the first thing nature sets us to do, is committing to memory--and experience will show that this is the natural first function of the young scholar. three languages can be better learned under eight years of age, than the simplest lessons in grammar, arithmetic, or history--unless these are confined to rules, tables, or dates, which may be most profitably committed, exactly as "mother goose" is. i take pains to allude to this, because i think great harm has been done of late by the axiom that a child should not learn anything but what it understands. this is not true of any of us, young or old. we must learn many things before we can understand one; and nothing is so unsuited to young brains, as prolonged efforts to understand. intellectual processes differ after we become old enough to understand; not only in the two sexes, but in every two individuals. of this fact we must take heed, or all comfort will be destroyed and much unnecessary work done. how then are we to lay the foundations of a sincere education? we must begin with the religious, the moral, and the emotional nature. we must sustain the relations god imposes on parent and child. we must bring the child face to face with the fact that this is a "hard" world. by that i mean, a world in which difficulties are to be fairly met--not shirked, set aside, or "got round." to help her to endure this hardness to the end, she must be taught a simple trust in god, and an obedient but by no means slavish deference towards parents, teachers, and elders. without this trust and this obedience, every child leads an unhappy and unnatural life; and their existence may be made sure without one word of dogmatic teaching. having given to the well-poised mind these inward helps, which all true growth requires, we must secure simple food, easy dress, regular meals, and the proper quantity of sleep. the child is then prepared for the steady work of mind and body which will develop both. while we do everything to make knowledge attractive and to stimulate thought when the time for thought arrives, we must be careful never to yield to the superficial demands of our people. the kindergarten, which is refreshment and help to the plodding german child, may become a snare to the light-minded american. when the period of development arrives, study should be carefully watched to make sure there is no overwork; the character of the reading and the lessons should be guided, so that neither may tend to excite a precocious development of the passions or the senses. anatomy may be profitably studied at this period; but just as the specialist turned his patient away from his loaded shelves, lest her own maladies should be increased by a morbid study of their source, i would keep developing girls and boys from a careful study of their own functions. if they are trained to quiet obedience, they will grow up in health precisely in proportion to the skill with which their thoughts are diverted from themselves to subjects of wider interest and more entertaining suggestion. in conclusion i must say, that education is to be adapted neither to boys nor to girls, but to individuals. the mother, or the teacher, has learned little who attempts to train any two children alike, whether as regards the books they are to study, the time it is to take, the attitudes they are to assume, or the amusements they are to be allowed. caroline h. dall. warren avenue, boston. footnotes: [ ] pupils usually enter at or after the age of eighteen. effects of mental growth. "clear away the parasitic forms that seem to keep her up, but drag her down; leave her space to bourgeon out of all within her." effects of mental growth a few years since, when mr. higginson's essay "ought women to learn the alphabet?" first appeared in the _atlantic monthly_, and i was reading some of its keen sarcasms to a gentleman just returned from a tour of eastern travel, he related a bit of his recent experience in the old city of sychar, in samaria. there was pointed out to him as an object of great interest and attention, a remarkable girl. she was the theme of animated discussion throughout all the neighborhood of ebal and gerizim--the observed of all observers, when she appeared on the street, or went with the maidens of sychar to draw water from jacob's well, still the glory of their city. this little maiden's distinction was that she was the first girl in that old city, who, during a period of nine hundred years, had transcended the allotted sphere of woman in so bold a step as that of going to school and learning to read. there had been no special purpose in the act. she had been attracted by the mysterious sounds from the room where boys were taking their first lessons in talmudic law and lore, and had gratified her curiosity by learning what they meant. "it whistled itself," averred the little school-boy, apologetically, under fear of the rod; so she, another _it_, learned itself. it was not until the steps of other little maidens were also tending towards school, that the gravity of her transgression, and the danger of the innovation, were at all comprehended. then there was indeed an excitement among the orthodox samaritans. in the opinion of the staunch appellants to the law and the prophets, she had transcended the limitations of her sex, and the marital claim, "my wife is my shoe" was ominously threatened. sychar had not been so roused for ages. the scribes and prophets waited in expectancy to see fire from heaven descend upon a city where such things had been suffered, or to see the young transgressor transformed, by the judgments of heaven, out of the proper semblance of womanhood. but when she appeared in the streets, with her sister maidens, performed her appointed tasks in rank and file with them, talked and chatted as heretofore--though perhaps gossiped less--and bore her pitcher as deftly on her head as ever, the matter began to die away, and she was only pointed out as the one who had _first_ sinned. true, the high priest shook his head and prophesied "the end is not yet." but the fire had caught, and, according to the laws of fire, physical or promethean, it spread, until between the mountains of blessing and cursing, a dozen samaritan girls had learned the alphabet. how far education has advanced in sychar, what has been its effects upon the health of samaritan women, or how much it has shaken the social basis, "my wife is my shoe," i have had no very late opportunities for learning; but, judging from the effects of learning the alphabet in other places, i cannot doubt that this innovation, seeing it did not precipitate the world out of its course, has been followed by others, less startling, perhaps, but tending the same way. be this as it may, this initiate of an educational revolution in sychar has its lessons for our times. the rabbis of the old samaritan capital saw in this unlooked for seizure of the key of knowledge by the hand of a woman, a second fall, and to them the world again gave "signs of woe that all was lost." this miltonian cry of woe to the world, through knowledge or privilege given to woman, has been repeated in every age by rabbis and high priests, who find the eden of life in the poet's picture of the human family, before woman aspired to taste the fruit of the tree "to be desired to make one wise;" when there was as yet no misunderstanding of the object for which man and woman each were made: "he, for god only; she, for god in him." that the world was a paradise while man's wisdom sufficed for her who was to behold god only through him, has been the teaching of creeds not yet dead. there is a lesson in the little samaritan maiden's repetition of the first transgression, as well as in its repetition a thousand times since. he that runneth may read in it this moral of the symbol, legend, or verity of holy writ, whichever way we may regard the story of the bite of the apple, viz.: that a desire _to know_ was evidently an element in woman's original psychical nature, be it original sin, or otherwise; and correspondingly endowed, as is, just as evidently, her physical organization, to gratify this desire, we may conclude that she will compel some of the educational institutions of the age to her service in its accomplishment. i am glad that the recent alarm of dr. clarke, certainly the most rousing of our time, has been sounded. rung out from his high tower of professional eminence and authority, it must and does attract attention. it is a cry of "halt!" and let us see where we are going. so, rude and harsh as are many of its tones, discordant with truth as we can but believe some of his statements, and more of his conclusions, i am glad it has been sounded. his facts are momentous. let us heed them, and charge the sin where it belongs. the book will lead to investigations and in the end to an improvement in methods, and a higher, more thorough, education of women. dr. clarke thinks "that if it were possible to marry oriental care of woman's organization to her western liberty and culture of the brain, there would be a new birth, and a loftier type of womanly grace and force." but his conclusions seem to be that this is impossible, and, since they cannot be united, of the two types of women, the brain-cultured, intellectual women of the west, and the oriental women, "with their well developed forms, their brown skins, rich with the blood and sun of the east," he prefers the latter. two years since i visited some portions of the east, where these primitive oriental types of womanhood are to be seen. sometimes in the gardens of a harem, i have seen them, sitting, lolling, gossiping life away, only careful to guard their veiled faces from exposure, no matter if the rest of the body were as destitute of covering as their souls were of feeling, or their brains of thought. i saw more frequently another class of women--those from whom poverty had rent the veil--some still clinging to a filthy rag, or diverting a more filthy shred from the tatters of their garments to cover their faces, because, as a sheik explained to me, "cause she shame she's woman." desiring to compare the length of the life of woman, under such conditions, with that of life which we have been wont to call civilized and enlightened, i often inquired the age of women whom we saw, and was surprised at being as often assured that women whose furrowed, wrinkled faces would indicate that they were sixty, were not more than thirty-eight--at most, forty years old. most eastern women that i saw, exemplified the "oriental care of woman's organization" by abandoning their own to a mere animal vegetation. they had borne children innumerable. these swarmed upon us from fissures in the rocks, from dens, caves, and old tombs in the mountain sides--a scrofulous, leprous progeny of wretchedness, with a few fairer types, to which some principle of "natural selection" had imparted strength to rise above the common conditions of life. i had also some opportunity to see the "oriental organization of woman" under process of mental culture, in schools something like our own. especially anxious to learn all that pertained to progress in education in the old cities in the east, i sought every opportunity to visit schools, mahometan, christian, and jewish, under the old or under the more modern _régime_, and at the risk of being set down as a true american inquisitor, i pressed questions in every direction that would be likely to be suggested to a practical teacher, studying the problem we are here trying to solve: "what is the best education for our american girls?" the best schools that i visited are those established within twelve or twenty years some, quite recently, by the prussian protestant sisters or deaconesses, who have had a rare and severe training for their work--physical, mental, and hygienic. in these schools, also, are to be found pupils from the better classes of the people, though they often have an orphan department attached, into which the neglected and wretched children are received, kindly cared for, and educated. in the opinion of these teachers, mental development is the source of health to their pupils, and they invariably spoke of the improving health and vigor of their girls under school training. they come, often, miserable and sickly from the neglect or abuse of ignorant mothers. many such were growing healthy. the inert were growing active and playful, the deformed, greatly improving. one teacher said that to see the girls under her care inclined to any active play, until they had been in school months, sometimes years, was very rare. this inertness was more difficult to overcome in girls from the higher than the lower classes, for, in addition to an inert physical organization, a contempt for labor, with which they associated all exertion whatever, was born with them; and only through a long course of training--not until their brains began to take in the meaning and pleasure of study--could they throw it off; to rouse a girl and find out what she looked forward to in life, she had often asked her, "and what do you intend to _do_ when you leave school?" "oh, sit," had been many times the answer she had received. "sit," which meant, she said, to wait and get married. at beyrout i visited several very interesting schools. the superior or principal of one told me she had been associated, in her preparatory course, at kaiserwerth, with florence nightingale, for two years; and she described to me the discipline of that institution and others, where these teachers and nurses are trained. it is a discipline of severe study, accompanied by nursing, watching, hospital practice, and sometimes the hardest drudgery of work. she had often seen, she said, "miss nightingale, a born lady, on her knees scrubbing floors. but there was no distinction of persons in these institutions. those who came to them looked forward to lives, not of ease, but useful work, and they must be prepared to bear hardness as good soldiers." "but miss nightingale has broken down; may not the severity of this discipline have been one cause of what she is suffering now?" she did not think so; they had all had a training just as severe as hers, the sisters here, in jerusalem, smyrna, and everywhere, and they were well and strong. but there were limits to human strength and endurance; and miss nightingale's work in the crimea, performed under such conditions as it was, had transcended what the human organization could endure--cold, hunger, foul air, insufficient and unwholesome food, with such incessant work, watching, and nursing, that no human being was proof against it. it was a miracle what miss nightingale had withstood before she broke down. but these sisters wear no long or heavy dresses. their uniform is a simple dark-blue-and-white calico dress-skirt neither long nor very full, sleeves close, yet allowing perfect freedom in the use of the arm, a simple white collar and apron, and cap of shining, spotless whiteness. their shoes, too, are after the pattern of those which, we are told, are always worn by florence nightingale--with a sole as broad as the foot they were made for, and fitted to the natural shape of the foot. the food, the sister said, at kaiserwerth, as in all the training-schools, was "nourishing, but very simple." such facts are worth noting. if they were accompaniments of our system of education, i do not believe that american girls would break down under the brain-work that any university course for men, in our country, imposes. as to the item of shoes, who does not know that a great deal more work, and better, can be performed in shoes that fit, than in such as tire the feet? and this is scarcely less true of brain-work than house-work. i believe that the shoes worn by young girls and young women now, are a great cause of nervous irritability, and, joined with other causes, may be a source of disease, "nervous prostration," so called in after life. i have heard women say many times, "nothing in the world will bring a sick-headache on so quickly as wearing a shoe that hurts my feet." the oft repeated words have led me to watch my pupils in this respect carefully, and to study shoes and their effects, as among the evils which certainly ought not to be charged to brain-work, _per se_, nor to our school system, in general. it also made me take especial note of the shoes that the deaconess sisters wore as a part of the dress in which, through long practice, they learned "hardness," and came out strong and healthy, but not the less accomplished, charming women. the school at beyrout, under charge of these sisters, is probably one of the best in all the east. i was conducted by the lady principal through every department. in one room an arabic professor was engaged at the black-board, instructing a class in studies pursued in that language. in another part of the same room, young ladies were reading to a lady-teacher an oration of demosthenes in classic greek. another class was reading critically a portion of milton's "paradise lost," and yet another was engaged in preparing a french lesson. with all these classes the lady sister spoke in the language under study or recitation, as did the teachers of each class, with the exception of the greek class, in which, the sister said, the pupils were taught to read the classic greek, but allowed to speak the language as now spoken, as they had many pupils to whom this was their native tongue; but they ought to be able to read the works of their great men of another age. in another department i heard the same sister speak most beautiful german. this was her native tongue. italian was also taught, and i heard it fluently spoken. it seemed to me that their course, though different, required nearly as much study as ours. at the hotel, where i remained ten days, i made the acquaintance of two young ladies, of greek and armenian parentage. they had been in this school for several years and were still pursuing their studies. they spoke half a dozen languages, english, they said, the most imperfectly of any, but i have never seen an american girl who spoke french or german, when she graduated, as well as these girls spoke english, and their drill in music was quite as severe as that of american girls. they were taught arithmetic, but not to the extent that girls are in our schools. physiology was also a part of their course. they were not so unctuously fat as many of the entirely idle women of the harems, whose object in life is to "sit," but to us, who are wont to call that a "well-developed form" which would seem to adapt its owner to do something in life, rather than to sit an existence through, their physiques would indicate more vigorous health than those of the "grave turk's wifely crowd," which dr. clarke wished he could marry to the "brain-culture" of our women. their faces were still "rich with the blood and sun of the east," and i should pity the american who could find a loss in the exchange of the "unintelligent, sensuous faces" of the harem drones for the soul-light which, through brain-culture, beamed from the eyes of these oriental young women. in this school they had advanced to an innovation beyond anything to which the teachers had been themselves trained in europe--quite beyond anything in the east, even the mission schools--the experiment of co-education, in the primary department, where a few boys had been admitted. here i saw a daughter and a son of the pasha of syria in the same room and in the same class. "and how does this system work?" i asked. "well;" the sister said, "admirably; it is especially good for the boys, who, in this country, are so arrogant and overbearing. they are born with a contempt for girls; and begin, when they are but little things, to lord it over them. but it has a wonderful influence to humble their pride, to find the girls fully their equals, as they are, in their classes." dr. clarke says, that "the error of the co-education of the sexes, and which prophesies their identical co-education in colleges and universities, is not confined to technical education. it permeates society." that it does so, is true, but that it is always an "error," we should not so readily admit, as one of its permeating effects upon society in beyrout, may illustrate. in one church, through conformity to oriental prejudices against any sign of equality between men and women, the sittings designed for the men on one side, and the women on the other, had always been separated by a heavy curtain drawn between them. reaching far above the heads of the worshippers, even when they should be standing, it had formed a complete partition wall, dividing the church up to the space in front of the preacher's desk. but this curtain had, within the last few months, been removed, and the minister was now, on sundays, dispensing a straightforward gospel, the same to men and women. thus was the co-education system in the school already permeating the church! this was noticed with surprise by a missionary whom i had met on the mediterranean, returning, after two or three years' absence in this country, to his former mission field, and who entered the church, for the first time after his return, with me. "ah!" he exclaimed, "this denotes a great advance in christian sentiment! this is as it should be. and how does it work?" he asked of the pastor of the church, in delighted surprise. "admirably," was the reply. there was some remonstrance on the part of some of the older men at first, but even they did not seem to think anything about it any longer, and it was so much more agreeable preaching to the people all together, than to have his congregation separated by that high wall of a curtain, and to seem to be dispensing one kind of gospel to the men, and another to the women, of his church. yet i had heard this good man, in a conversation with brethren who had come down to joppa to meet him on his return, discussing with severe reprobation "this absurd woman movement" in america, "opposed to christianity," "unsettling the churches," "pervading society in a thousand ways," "subversive of social order and refinement;" and, as one of its most ridiculous, almost monstrous effects, "putting into girls' heads the idea of going to college with the young men!" so little did he recognize as one impulse of the wave of the "woman movement," what he had but now been so heartily commending! so often is the babe of bethlehem nurtured by those who, seeing him as he is, a fair and beautiful child, welcome and worship him; but who, looking through the mists of prejudice, especially fearing through him some subversion of their power, position, or interest, cry: "away with him! crucify him! crucify him!" at beyrout i had several conversations with a most intelligent armenian gentleman, from constantinople, occupying an important governmental position. having under my charge several young ladies travelling for study and instruction, our conversation very naturally turned upon our american educational systems, about which he was much better informed than many members of our public school boards. he had read our school reports, and his knowledge of our methods, courses of study, etc., surprised me. he discussed them, especially remarking upon the broadening influence of the increasing attention paid to the sciences in our schools, and the comparative effect of the positive sciences and the languages upon national character. and could it be possible that young men and young ladies pursued these studies together, he asked. the school reports which he had read would indicate this, yet he could hardly believe it possible. i must pardon him if he had seemed to observe the young ladies too closely, but he had been interested to study the influence of our ideas of education upon the first american girls he had ever met. and i could not imagine how the difference struck him--how it struck all eastern men. their freedom, their energy, their companionableness, was so different from women of the east. "and yet, they are perfectly modest!" he said. he had observed their anxiety to visit places of historical interest, getting up early in the morning and walking a long distance to do this. he had seen elegant, pleasing women in the east, women of graceful manners--the eastern women were often that--but he had met few educated women. their women were trained to please, but they were never educated to be a man's intellectual companion. no eastern man ever thought of a companion in a wife. but stopping thoughtfully for a moment, and seizing one of our idioms in his hesitating english, he said, "yet i can't see for the life of me why it would not be better that she should be." this was the frank, involuntary utterance of a cultivated man, brought suddenly, for the first time, as he said, to consider the question of the education of women, an elemental half of humanity, in the unbiassed, comprehensive view of the subject that can alone lead to a just decision. he was an eastern man, outside of the turmoil and interests of the discussion. no personal or professional craft lurked unrecognized behind his conclusions to give them a bias. with him it was a question of social science, general human happiness and welfare. with us, however, where it has become a practical question touching domestic, social, and professional interests, its complications multiply, and it is exceedingly difficult for the most honest and unselfish occupants of place or privilege, to look at it without touching, in some of its intricacies, the question, "does not space for her to bourgeon," imply restricting me and mine? the old chinese wall of prejudice, surrounding the subject of woman's education, from which there are so many out-comes, is not broken down yet. we only learn how strong it is when we come to some new point in the siege or defence. sermons that have been preached at learned women, and jokes perpetrated at their expense, are still issued in modernized editions, and scare and sting as of yore. it is quite curious to note how the style changes, but the thought remains the same. our fathers planned our earliest educational institutions according to the best they knew. our mothers economized and hoarded that they might leave bequests to colleges and theological schools, where their sons could be educated; while their daughters picked up such crumbs of knowledge as they could find. both wrought their best, according to the light of their day, but the shadow of their fuller eclipse extends to us. calvin's requirements in a wife were with them as weighty to determine woman's status in society as was his "five points in theology," their creed: "that she be learned is not requisite. that she be beautiful, only that she be not ill-looking, is not important. but she must be of sound health, that she may bear me children. she must be industrious, economical, obedient, and know how to take good care of _my_ health." this was the summary of what women needed to know and be, in the opinion of one regarded by our fathers as a law-giver, entrusted with the oracles of god. an old manuscript copy of a sermon, esteemed fifty years ago so rich in thought as to make it worth transcribing, to keep among family treasures, lies before me. from it, among more piquant instructions, i copy a sentence: "but if thou wilt please god, take much pains with thy heart, to make it stand in awe of thy husband. look, therefore, not on his qualities but on his place, for if thou despisest him, thy contempt redounds upon god." "when a woman counts herself equal with her husband, though he be of meaner birth and smaller capacity, the root of all good carriage is dried up." in proof that we have outlived only the form of such sentiment, i recommend the reading of part vii. of mr. hamerton's "intellectual life," a very recent publication, and, the reviewers say, "a charming book." in a discourse on "women and marriage" he says: "it appears to be thought wise to teach boys things which women do not learn, in order to give them a degree of respect for men's attainments which they would not feel, were they prepared to estimate them critically." this educational policy and its workings mr. hamerton illustrates by numerous examples. he says: "the opinion of a distinguished artist was, that a man devoted to art might marry either a plain-minded woman who would occupy herself exclusively with household matters, and shield his peace by taking these cares upon herself, or else a woman quite capable of entering into his artistic life. * * * and of the two kinds of women which he considered possible, he preferred the former, that of an entirely ignorant person, from whom no interference was to be apprehended. he considered the first madam ingres the true model of an artist's wife, because she did all in her power to guard her husband's peace, and never herself disturbed him, acting the part of a breakwater, which protects a space of calm and never disturbs the peace it has made." a woman too ignorant to wish to comprehend her husband lest she should meddle in his pursuits, and who should find her crumb of the happiness that human life and family compact ought to yield, in "acting as a breakwater" to protect him, and "never disturb his peace," was a great artist's view of the education needed by a woman! to this i would oppose my more humble experience, but i am sure there are women enough who would add theirs thereto, to make the sum equal in weight to that of mr. hamerton's artist friend. among the women whom i have known in life, the most highly intellectual have been the least meddlesome; for the very good reason that they have been too busy with the work of their own brains to meddle with what concerned other people. nor have such women been less the helps, fitted, if need be, to act as "breakwaters" to protect the calm of a man engaged in any great work. on the contrary, the discipline acquired in study and thought has been turned to account in this way, as well as in any other. mr. hamerton gives another friend's view of the education needful for a woman,--"one of the most intellectual men he ever knew," but "whose wife really knew nothing of his intellectual existence whatever." his theory was "that women ought not to be admitted to the region of masculine thought; it is not good for them." so dr. clarke evidently thinks, and thinks he proves it physiologically. the existence of the terrible evils he depicts is not to be doubted; and she would be less than a true woman who did not protest, by precept, preaching, and example, against the follies and sins of school or social life that induce such evils: but that it was eating of the fruit of the tree of knowledge--"persistent brain-work" even--that furnished dr. clarke's cases, "chiefly clinical," an experience of teaching extending over forty years would forbid me to believe. as a woman, i have heard the smothered cry of woe as pitiful, of suffering as great, from those who prayed for death as a relief--though it was not from suffering of the body--as any that dr. clarke describes. in our pity for physical suffering, some may well be reserved for the soul of her who "sighs amid her narrow days, moving about the household ways in that dark house where she was born." indeed, the supposition of dr. clarke that psychical influences may have caused diseases which he describes, casts light upon some sad cases of invalidism which i have known, and where disease may quite as probably have been induced by soul-loneliness--intellectual starvation--as by the brain-work which, in his cases, he assumes to be the cause. in the new education which is preparing for our girls, i trust regard will be paid to training physicians for the souls of women, as well as for their bodies, and there will surely be needed that very "feminine subtlety" that divines, if it does not reason out, a cause. "i believe in educating women to be physicians since i have read that book, if i never did before," has been the exclamation of many women who have read it. we want women physicians, educated to habits of thinking, logical, as well as physiological--capable of tracing psychical, as well as physical, causes. we want teachers so educated, women drawn to study the science of teaching through a love of it, as florence nightingale was led through seven years' preparation for her work--as a naturalist or an artist is drawn to his work. we want women on our school boards and among our visiting committees, who know how to estimate the trust committed to them, and who will give time, thought, and study to their duties. the science of education is, to-day, where the science of geology was fifty years ago. we are just beginning to think of it as a science. men and women are waking up to its demands. children, with their infinite variety of organizations, temperaments, and idiosyncracies, can no more be educated at random than plants, gathered from the four quarters of the earth, can be perfected through the same culture, and in the same climate and soil. each child in the great crowd that gathers in our schools, is in some respects like a particular musical instrument, designed by god, in its complicated mechanism, to perform its particular part, to yield its own particular tone in the diapason of life; and i shudder when i think how rudely it is often played upon by untaught teachers--teachers who have drifted to their work, or resorted to it as a temporary occupation, for its profits, but who have never thought of studying its principles, as physicians, lawyers, artists, study the principles of their professions. played upon by the unskilled hands of those who have never troubled themselves to study the physical, much less the psychic delicacy of this wonderful human instrument, the only wonder is, that society should yield the harmonies it does. no! women need to think more, not less; to increase, not diminish brain-work; to overlive the drudgery of it, whether it involve teaching, writing, study, the work of a profession, or house-work, by breathing into it the living spirit of love, which sanctifies and ennobles whatever the hands or the brain find to do. as regards different methods of education and their results, the old new england academies may furnish some useful lessons. these began to be established from fifty to seventy-five years ago, and are now mostly displaced by union and high schools. but they were the initiate of a very important revolution in the status of the education of girls. in their earliest educational plans, our fathers had not taken their girls much into account. but these academies, though not planned with any special reference to giving the girls of the new england villages and the rural districts the opportunities of education, at once established a system of co-education, where the girls and the young men met on terms of as entire equality as any co-educational plan has ever since contemplated. the academy edifice was most frequently built by voluntary subscription from persons of all religious sects, and the school was in charge of trustees, so chosen as to avoid any sectarian bias or rivalry in its management. the building generally crowned some hill, or stood in the midst of a grove where spacious grounds could be obtained. the school was usually under charge of a gentleman teacher--some college graduate--and a lady assistant. the course of study, aside from a course designed to fit young men for college, was largely elective. these schools were as perfect educational republics as can be imagined. the young men and the young women met in their classes, on terms of entire equality and respect for each other. there were few rules in the school, and as to government, the pupils were mostly put upon their honor. the course of study was frequently identical, and with the exception of the greek--sometimes the latin--designed to fit young men for college--largely so. my own course was precisely that of the young men in every study, though greek, to which i was persuaded by my minister, led me through a cruel martyrdom of jokes from my companions. repeating at school what their mothers said at home, they even then satirized me with proposals to get up petitions to open the doors of our state university to girls "who wanted to be men" i felt these jokes so keenly, that at first i pursued my study of greek covertly, reciting out of school. but, cheered by my minister's encouragement, i lived down jokes, and went into the class with the young men, kept up with them, and continued the study until they went to college, and beyond, until a call from one of our female seminaries for a teacher "who had been educated by a man," broke up a course that i would have been glad to have extended through college. and that without "wishing to be a man," without wishing for anything but to gratify a love of study, which was just as natural to me as to those i had thus far studied with. the daily hours of school were more than in our high schools, and we had recitations always, as usual, up to twelve o'clock on saturday, while the number of recitations a student was allowed to have, nearly always exceeded the number allowed in our high schools. i have never in any schools known more thorough and persistent study than was performed by students in these academies, and the standing of the girls was invariably as high as that of the young men. such recitations as we had in history, moral and intellectual philosophy, were like a life elixir; we went from them, not wearied, exhausted, but rested, exhilarated. we had gained bodily strength as well as mental clearness and force. they had infused life. and where are the girls, who, forty, even fifty years ago, made trial of "persistent" study, of the dangerous system of co-education in the academies? there has surely been sufficient time to test its physical effects on them. where are they? scattered throughout the world, a host of noble women, many of them doing brain-work still. if my limits would permit, i could give the history of scores of them who were educated mostly in those academies, and who have continued study and brain-work ever since--who have borne children, reared families, and are yet strong and healthy, far beyond the average of women who have lived in ease and idleness--quite as healthy as women devoted alone to domestic cares. the invalids on a long list of old associates which dr. clarke's book has led me to call to mind and look up, are, i have been surprised to find, among those who did "run well for a time," but they have turned back and ceased mental labor. some have fallen into worldliness and a fashionable life, and are broken down under it. others, restricted to some narrow creed of thought, have not dared to open their eyes to the light of any new day that is dawning on the world, until, ceasing to grow, they have, according to a law of nature, fallen into decay, invalidism, and "nervous prostration." bringing this subject before several experienced persons, teachers, and one a physician, in the light in which i have aimed to bring it before my readers, i have asked, "and were these cases of invalidism (cases of which we have been speaking) from your best scholars? were they, in short, persons still continuing to grow?" stopping a moment to think, they have, in two instances at least, given precisely the same answer: "i never thought of that before, but they were not." there are some other things that characterized methods, of study in those academies of forty or fifty years ago, that may instruct us. while the girls studied harder, had more recitations, extending through more hours in a day than are required in any of our high schools, they seldom studied in school, but at their homes or at their boarding places. this gave them freedom of position, liberty to sit or stand or walk, when they were at work on a difficult problem, or engaged in close thinking--an advantage which any one who has been a close student in later life, must appreciate--an advantage which i have recently heard young ladies in our university say, they could hardly conceive of before they went to the university from the high school where they fitted. this also led them almost every hour into the open air, and to take a little exercise, as the girls in our university and in some of our colleges are forced to do, effecting a visible and marked improvement in the standard of health among the girls in the university above that of the girls in the high schools. again, they had seldom more than one flight of stairs to climb; nor were they, in climbing these, burdened with skirts that weigh five, six, and even seven pounds, such as i know from actual weight, carefully reported, young girls of the present time sometimes wear in climbing three immense flights of stairs! let any woman undertake this with her arms full of books, her hands tied in holding them, so that she cannot clear her feet from her long, heavy skirt, with its manifold flounces switching about them, while she is laboring to lift them with a movement of her hips and pinioned arms, and yet feels herself liable every instant to be thrown from her balance by all this encumbrance--let her undertake this, and she will learn that there is something besides study that is endangering the health of our school girls. again, let her take her stand at the top of one of these long flights of stairs--the last in the building, perhaps--reaching up to the floor where the high school rooms are almost always located; let her watch the flushed faces of a class of girls coming up to recitation, note the palpitating, almost breathless efforts with which some of them achieve the last few steps; and when they have accomplished this, see here and there one clinging to the post of the balustrade, or leaning speechless against the wall until she can recover breath to proceed another step; let her do this, and she will get another insight into the causes of invalidism among the girl graduates of our schools. "how can a mother rest when she doesn't know where her boys are?" we often hear asked. how can a mother rest when she doesn't know where her girls are, or by what dangerous steps they have gone where they are? how can she rest? simply, in most instances, because she has not herself been educated to any comprehension of the danger her child is in. neither did school-girls, in that earlier time, perform their brain labor under an outside pressure scarcely less than that of one of those iron helmets which one sees in the tower of london, and which, the guide assures us, with an emphasis implying that he does not expect us to believe it, were actually worn by some knight at the battle of cressy, agincourt, or some other which resulted in victory to the english. and how those old warriors did bear up under a head-gear weighing ten or twelve pounds, to fight the battles of their age, i have been best able to comprehend when i have seen what girls of our age can bear up under and live at all, much more, study. i have a friend, an old pupil, a truly intellectual woman, who has not broken down under much more brain-work, since she left school, than she ever performed in school. her husband greatly enjoys her intellectual tastes, and, without stint or jealousy, encourages them; only he would not have her "odd," nor so very different from "other ladies of our acquaintance." he would have her study; he "doesn't believe a woman should fall back in her intellectual life any more than a man." he would have her paint, and practise, and study; and since he provides abundant help, he thinks she may. he will buy any book, or set of books, to aid her; but he would have her wear her hair as "other ladies wear theirs, and not give occasion for all those flings about women who want to know so much," and go with their hair about their faces and themselves at "sixes and sevens," generally. "and why can't she wear her hair put up?" "sit down, and i will tell you why," she said, one day, rather out of sorts; he did not yield very ready compliance. but she persuaded him to permit her to illustrate her "why." he sat down, and she began by twisting his abundant curls into a knot as tight as could well be held by a strong hair-pin. this was the "underpinning" on which to rear the structure. so, with "switch" upon "switch," and "braid" surrounding "braid," a "frizz" here and a "frizz" there, with a few bows for capitals, and a few curls for streamers, and twenty-four hair-pins for fastenings and bracing-rods, the tower was finished, in less than half the time, as she assured him, owing to the advantageous position she enjoyed in her work, that it would take her to rear the same structure on her own head, and it was precisely like what other ladies of their acquaintance wore. "good gracious!" he exclaimed, "you do not pretend that women wear all this false pile on their heads!" "yes, i not only pretend, but solemnly assure you that i have not exceeded by a braid or a curl what most of the ladies of our acquaintance wear on their heads." "well, what do women want to be such fools for?" he asked impatiently. "what did you want me to be such a fool for?" she answered. "well, take down the thing and let me go," he said, "you may wear your hair as you please, i have learned _why_ enough for one day." "no, stay and let us read that chapter of mill on 'liberty' that we were going to read together sometime," she said. "liberty! i think so. i wouldn't wear that thing half a day for all the profits of my business for a year!" "well, then, we'll let mill go, for i think if i have taught you _why_, with all that toggery on my head, i can't do anything, i have done enough for one day," she said. think of a girl thus burdened working through a problem in mathematics, or arranging, in her mind, an analysis of it, which will be called for in five minutes; or, of her thinking over, so as to give clearly, with its heads and deductions, an abstract of a chapter in some branch of science! she will say, perhaps, that "one gets used to it and thinks nothing about it," and she thinks, no doubt, that what she says is quite true. but go to her room in the evening after the world is shut out, and you will, in all probability, find her with her wrapper on and her "braids" and "switches" off, and she will tell you, without thinking, what is nearer the truth--that you must excuse her, but she has a "hard lesson to get, and she can study so much better in this way, when she feels perfectly comfortable." a straw will tell which way the wind blows, and straws of hair-pins, during months of pain and feebleness, may, in after life, tell which way the wind has blown. just in face of some of these hindrances, in the way of the higher education of our girls, i place some reports from schools and colleges which i have received. the following is from a teacher of high reputation, superintendent of public schools in one of our large cities, a gentleman who has studied the science of teaching as few have done, and added to the usual attainments of a college graduate, studies which would have given him a right to practise as a physician. he has now been engaged in his profession, without a term's remission, for thirty years: "it is not hard study that breaks down the health of our girls, but the circumstances under which they study, the demands of society and its thousand social follies, with all their excitements. it is the foolish ambition of parents to have their daughters accomplished before they are out of their teens, often allowing them to carry on five or six branches at a time instead of two or three. these, and some other like causes, as i think, do more towards breaking down the health of girls at school, than much study. the ability on the part of the girls to master the several branches, is fully equal to that of the boys, and when an amount of study is reached that is injurious to girls, we have gone as far as is profitable for boys. boys also break down in study, from some of the evils of society. as to co-education of the sexes, my experience, observation, and reading, all convince me that it is the best way. if there are incidental evils in such a course, they are only incidental, and i can find those of equal, or, i think, of greater magnitude in separate schools." michigan has tried the experiment of co-education perhaps as thoroughly and extensively as any state in the union--as any territory of equal extent in the world. her six colleges, her university, her normal school, all her higher institutions of learning--with the exception of the michigan female seminary, on the mt. holyoke plan, and some young ladies' private schools--are open to young men and to young women on the same terms. there are no separate roads for the sexes up the hill of science, from the lowest primary, to the highest professional school. kalamazoo college, against the opinion of many educated and educational men, admitted women to a full curriculum, twenty years ago. and classes, about equally divided, have been graduating from the college ever since, confirming the authors of the movement and the whole faculty, during these twenty years, in the practicability and the many advantages of the plan. the young women have always averaged as good scholarship and health as the young men. a _smaller_ number of women than [transcriber's note: missing word "men"? ]have abandoned their course on account of ill health. during the period of my own connection with this institution, many young women pursued there an extended elective course of study, who did not graduate. it was not their plan to do so when they entered the preparatory department. many graduated from a course quite as extensive, requiring as persistent study, though not in all respects like that of the young men. they did not usually study greek, though some did, and were leaders of their classes. they did not pursue latin quite so far, but more than made up for this in a far more thorough study of french and german, history and literature. there is scarcely a week in the year but i receive communications in some way from some of these old pupils. they are among my most enjoyable, intellectual, and literary correspondents. with few exceptions, they are _growing_ women. having learned how to learn--which they will all remember, was the most i ever professed to be able to teach them--they have instituted schools for themselves, compelled sometimes very hard circumstances to become their best teachers, and learned to draw lessons, as mr. emerson once said in a lecture to them, from "frost and fire." some have learned to use the world as not abusing it, and are turning wealth and its advantages that have come to them, to useful, noble purposes. a few, but very few, of the large number, are invalids, but there is not one whose case does not furnish me with abundant evidence of many more probable causes of invalidism, than over-study. there is not one, of whom i have heard, whose case does not wear on the face of it decidedly other causes than "persistent study." dr. mahan, who was the first, and for fifteen years, president of oberlin college, has since been for nearly as long a period the president of adrian college, in this state. he says that, during his connection with oberlin, the proportion of young men to young women who entered upon the course, and failed to complete it on account of failure of health, under the strain of thought and study, was at least _two to one_. the proportion was not quite so great in adrian; but many more young men than young women--and, as far as he was acquainted with colleges, everywhere--succumbed under the change from their former life to one of study. dr. mahan also says that, owing to the peculiar circumstances under which oberlin college was established, he has, through subsequent years, maintained a far more familiar acquaintance with his former students than is common for old teachers to do; and that he can count many more broken-down men, among his old graduates, than broken-down women. it would be impossible for one now to conceive the obstacles in the way of the girls who were first admitted to study at oberlin. every step was achieved through a moral battle with public opinion and popular prejudice, the depressing effects of which cannot now be estimated. and yet they did go through--stood as high during their whole course, and in their graduating exercises, as the young men. they are all of them married, mothers of families of children, and are strong and healthy, far above the average of american women. during almost thirty years that he has been president of college faculty meetings, he has never _once_ heard, from any member of the faculty, any intimation that the girls in the class were in any way whatever a drag upon the class. they invariably keep up, and oftener come out ahead than they lag behind. nor is this more characteristic in one branch of study than another. languages, science, philosophy, they grasp as clearly, strongly, and comprehensively as men; and as the result of his observation and of his experience, which, he says, in co-education in a higher course of study, has perhaps been greater than that of any man in the world, he thinks that while it is just as much better for men to be so educated as it is for women, the result to the latter is to make them more practical, more natural, less given to effeminate, rather than feminine affectations, and more readily adaptive to anything life may demand of them than any class of women he has ever known. also, in the particular of health, he has carefully observed the effects of close and continued study, not only during the course, but in subsequent life, and he will risk his reputation for truthful statements, in saying that he believes--that he knows--the most careful statistics would show among the women who are college graduates, whom he has known, a higher standard of health than among the same number of women from any class of society--working women, fashionable women, or women of merely quiet, domestic habits. and yet, "every well-developed, well-balanced woman who is a graduate from our colleges has actually performed one-fourth _more_ labor than a man who has stood by her side, and she is entitled to one-fourth more credit." a girl should be as free to choose for herself as a boy is. she can never truly know herself, nor be known by others, as the power in the world, greater or less, which she was ordained by god to be, until these thousand restrictions that limit and dwarf her intellectual life are removed. "let her make herself her own to give or keep, to live, and learn, and be all that not harms distinctive womanhood." i have recently been assured by one of the best students that have ever graduated from our university, and by another who graduated from hillsdale college in this state, from precisely the same course as the gentlemen students, that to girls of average capacity, the college course, all that is required of the young men--and all that _they_ are accustomed to perform--is not by any means difficult, and will not over-tax any girl of average health and abilities, who is properly prepared when she enters. but the trouble is that while girls like the studies in the regular course, and study with a real relish, they want more. they are not satisfied with the french and german of a course, they want to speak and write these languages, and add extra private lessons to those of the regular classes. the few lessons of the course in perspective drawing have, in some, awakened an artistic taste, and they want to pursue drawing farther. there are better teachers to be found in the vicinity of a university than they will find at home, and they are constantly tempted to do too much. a number of girls in the literary course of the university attend the medical lectures in certain departments, some teach students who are "conditioned" in certain branches. from all the colleges, the report in this respect is the same--girls can easily do all that is required of the young men, but they will do more. and yet the report from every college is--_more young men break down during a course, and are obliged, from ill health, to abandon their studies, than young women_. this certainly does not threaten danger to girls who attempt only the same that the young men do. the tendency in our colleges towards elective courses of study is in the right direction to remove the dangerous temptation into which girls are liable to fall--of taking studies outside the course. i hope to see even greater freedom of choice. from a woman, a mother, and lover of little children, a few words about school buildings and school methods may not be out of place. americans are proverbially giving to boasting. people of the older world tell us that this is an expression of our undeveloped youth--a kind of _sophomorism_ denoting that we are yet not very far advanced. be that as it may, i have observed that there is no more common subject for boasting than our schools and our school system. "there are our king's palaces, where we are training our future monarchs! those are the towers of our defence--the bulwarks of our republic!" i heard a western congressman exclaim, as the railway train whizzed past one of those immense school edifices which so closely dot the area of many of our western states, that one scarcely loses sight of one ere the high towers and ornate roofs of another come into view. "i will acknowledge that i am proud--feel like boasting, when i can point a foreigner to such buildings as those, and tell him they are but our common free schools, open to every child in the land, rich and poor, alike." the friend addressed, an intelligent, shrewd, naturalized scotchman, replied that he was "a little old fogy," he supposed, but that those great high buildings, where six or eight hundred children were gathered in one school, were like great cities, where too many people were gathered together. school life, no more than city life, could be healthy, nor just what life ought to be, under such conditions. to carry out these great union school plans, made a necessity for too much machinery. this it was which was grinding out the education of our children, rather than developing thought, and the result would be machine education. he said that school was a continual worry at home. one child was kept after school one day for one thing, and another the next day for some other thing, and there was a deal of worry and fretting about how they were marked, and a good deal more talk about the marks for the lesson, than there was about what was in the lesson itself. one little girl, a delicate lassie, they had been obliged to take out of school. the child didn't eat, couldn't sleep, and was getting in a bad way altogether. "there is no more color in l----'s face when she is getting off to school in the morning, than there is in my handkerchief, she is so afraid of being marked," said a mother to me a day or two since. "yesterday morning was especially one of trial to the child. i wish you could have seen her when she got off, or rather when she got home at night, and have heard her story. i had charged her not to hurry so, but come back if she was going to fail; i would rather she would lose the day than to gain her school through such an effort." the child reached the school, and came home at night to tell how. rushing into the house, the delicately organized, nervous little girl exclaimed: "oh, mamma, i did get there; and the best of it was, i overtook g---- s---- (another as delicate child); she was as late as i was, and we both ran every step. we managed to get our things off in the wardrobe and get into our seats, but g---- could not get her mittens off; and when she at last dropped into her seat, she put both hands up to her face and burst out crying as loud as she could cry. oh, i did feel so sorry for her!" the effort of getting to school, the fear of the marks, had thrown the delicate child into hysterics, given her physical system a shock, and made demands on her brain that a year's study could not have done. i could fill a volume, as could any observing woman, with instances like this--the occurrences of every day in the year. they cannot, perhaps, be helped. teachers are not to be blamed for them. six or eight hundred children cannot be hindered for one child. all are tied to too much machinery. in some of the public schools which i have visited in germany, the lessons for children eleven and twelve years old seemed to me more difficult than the lessons set for children of the same age in our public schools; and our children are not in school nearly so many hours in a day as the children in german schools, which are so often referred to, not only as model educational institutions, but conservators of health as well. children in germany go to school at seven o'clock in the morning. in very early morning walks, i have often met scores of german children, with their little soldier-like knapsack of books strapped to their shoulders, and have stopped them to examine their school-books, and inquire about their schools. in a little valley in switzerland, seeing a bevy of children starting, so many in one direction, before it was light in the morning, i inquired where all those children were going. "to the school, to be sure," i was answered. "but they cannot see to read or study," i said. "_o, sie müssen licht mitnehmen_" (they must take a light with them), was the reply. * * * * * our modes of education will be changed; there are defects to be remedied, evils to be cured, which affect both sexes; but women will be educated. all the tendencies of the age are towards a higher intellectual culture for them. women's clubs, classes, library and literary associations, are, throughout our cities and villages--in little country neighborhoods, even--furnishing women with means of intellectual growth and advancement. there is no more marked feature of the age than these associations. the babe of bethlehem is born, and has even now too far escaped the search of herod to be overtaken. nor is there anything in the spirit of the times which betokens the revival of the nunnery and monastic systems. women already tread almost every avenue of honest thrift and business, unchallenged. the shrines of minerva will not be desecrated by their presence. their intellect will be developed, and their affections will be cultivated, and all truly womanly virtues fostered in the innermost penetralia even, of that temple where all wisdom, and all art, and all science, are taught; whose patron deity was prophetically made by a mythology, wise beyond its own ken, not a man, not a god--but a goddess, a typical woman. as surely as girls persistently breathe the same air their brothers breathe, eat and drink as they do, go with them to church, public lectures, concerts, plays, and social entertainments, so will they, in the new and more truly christian era that is dawning, come, more and more, to study with them, from youth to old age, in the academy, the sacred groves of philosophy, halls of science, schools of theology--everywhere and "persistently." lucinda h. stone. kalamazoo, mich. girls and women in england and america. girls and women in england and america. when i was giving, in dundee, a lecture upon the education of women in america, the substance of which appeared in the _westminster review_ of october, , the chairman, on introducing me, said, "de tocqueville, the french philosopher, considered that the chief cause of the great prosperity of the american nation is the superiority of the women; now we are to hear to-night how these women are produced." two things uniformly strike foreign travellers in our country; the general intelligence of the people, and the equality of the education and intellectual interests of the men and the women; and few remarks are oftener heard from those who have visited us, or have known our countrymen and women on the continent than this: "american women seem so much superior to the men." but a third fact stands just as boldly forth--the thin, unhealthy-looking physique and nervous sensibility of the american people; and the impression of this is deepened by comparing us with our original ancestors, the english, confessedly the finest physical race in the world. these facts--the superior average education in america, and the inferior average physique of the nation--are so striking, that it is strange that they have not oftener and more forcibly been placed together as cause and effect. the education has gone on increasing, and the physique has gone on declining, till now the census returns begin to make us look anxiously about us. our men are unmuscular and short-lived, the best of them; the men of a physique of the type of chief justice chase rarely live beyond sixty or sixty-five. they are not invalids, but they are subject to fever, congestion, and paralysis, violent crises. the women are slight, graceful, impressionable, and active. in the poorer ranks of life they have a nervous, anxious look; in the well-to-do and wealthier ranks, a nervous, spiritual look. they are not invalids, but they are delicate, and are kept under a constant and chafing restraint from want of strength to carry out the plans they set before them, and they give an unsatisfactory prospect for the coming generations. our census reports are very trustworthy oracles; these give us dark omens, and it is folly to shut our eyes. many causes may be assigned as contributing to this physical deterioration, any one of which, with a little ingenuity, may be clearly made to appear responsible for almost the whole; and such, in some degree, is the temporary effect of the very clever feint of dr. clarke--nothing else can it be called. the book gives us the impression that the author is going to attack our effort to produce the kind of women upon which any shrewd observer must see that our unparalleled prosperity to a great degree rests. it makes us believe he is going to attack the very method to which our success in educating women is due; and it makes us fear that he is going to attack the modern doubt concerning the old theory, that "the highest and ultimate aim of a woman is to be the satisfactory wife of one man, and the nourishing mother of another;" but he does not even try to do any one of these things. he has thrown a calcium light upon one spot, revealing some defects, and many eyes are for a time drawn towards it. his feint has created a sensation, and brought an important subject up to a grade of familiarity and openness where it can be talked of and examined, and i closed the book with a great sense of obligation on behalf of my nation. i have long felt that physicians, themselves, have no adequate impression of the danger we are incurring in the average neglect that attends the physical rearing of american girls, and subsequent care of young women, nor adequate knowledge of their tendency to weakness in their present condition. mothers are busy, and girls are left too much to take care of themselves. from considerable personal knowledge, i am aware that the present state of things ought to occasion anxiety; that girls, ignorant of the consequences, are disposed to conceal any weakness or unnatural condition, through their great aversion to medical attendance, and from a dislike to restrictions upon their social pleasures; and also from the fear that these restrictions would produce suspicion among their friends in regard to their condition. i am sure that i am stating facts that are not appreciated in the degree that they deserve. looked at physically, and with a philanthropy that extends beyond our contemporaries, english women do not allow us to feel wholly satisfied with our american women. they make us feel that there is a debit as well as a credit column when we compare our system of social life with theirs. but we must not be so unwise as to attribute the fault to four or five years in the american girl's life; nor must we be so short-sighted as to limit the responsibility to the present generation. our own grandmothers did thus and so; but, as miss phelps says, this is the very reason that we cannot do it; nor can we afford to be so unjust as to make women bear the whole blame, nor so injudicious as to criminate our society as a whole. crime implies bad intentions, or mistakes that result from inexcusable neglect of available knowledge. our bitterest enemies, the devotees of a "high-bred aristocracy," could not charge us with the first; and as to the second, the past furnishes no experience for our guidance. we do not know just how much work this complex human machine is capable of doing; nor indeed do we know how to adjust the action of the different parts, and to manage the repairs so as to get the best possible work out of it. some overstrain it, others take needless trouble about the repairs. as yet the capacities of human muscle and nerve have never been adequately tested. we are carrying the experiments in this matter farther than they have ever gone before. we cannot know the full strength of a cord till it is broken; but we grow cautious when we see that the fibres are beginning to give way. our astonishing prosperity is due to the large total of brain-activity that is being applied in the development of the natural resources, industries, and social life of our nation--a total to which women as well as men contribute, and the poorer people as well as the richer. that they are able to make this common contribution, is due to the fact, that we educate not only men but women, not only the rich but the poor; that they are keenly stimulated to make it, is due to the natural resources of the country, to the mobile conditions of society, and to the peculiar system of educating all classes and both sexes together, which conditions combine to afford to the various individuals, inviting possibilities for acquiring wealth and influence. along with this tremendous brain activity, a very large proportion of our people are carrying on an unusual amount of muscular activity. that is, our active brains multiply things to be done faster than they supply us with mechanical contrivances and organization in industry, to reduce muscular labor. in looking at the conditions of english life we observe: i. comparative repose, the absence of an exciting hope and a hurried and worrying activity. a large part of the nation attempt to lead nothing beyond a simple animal life, putting their entire energies into animal force, and using this animal force for the benefit of those above them, almost as completely as the horse or the ox. this statement is so true of the agricultural laborers as to admit of very little palliation, and it is scarcely less true of the unskilled working classes in the towns. in all the lower ranks of society there are great obstacles to advancement in position, because each plane of life is crowded with its own members; because each class is educated in schools where only children of that class are found, and where the education is especially adapted to that class--that is, to their industrial needs and to what is expected in that grade of society--and does not fit them for any other place in society. one-fifth of the nation cannot read, and the education of the great majority of the remainder, when not limited to the "three r's," does not go far enough to create a taste for reading books; and, shut off as they have been from participation in political life, they have too little interest in public concerns to read the newspapers. that is, as compared with our life, the possibilities for advancement are limited, the average education is of a low order, and the stimulus that comes from an acquaintance with the habits of those above them is absent. nearly all the spurs to ambition are wanting, and in consequence there is little tendency to do more work than is necessary to keep along in the old ways. the skilled artisans have in this matter of opportunity for advancement more in common with the circumstances of our life. this sphere is not overcrowded, but they, too, lack the means for education and association with those above them provided in our public schools. the result of their better chances for improvement shows itself with them in the same way as with us, in a tendency to overwork, though, as we should expect, not in the same degree. complaints are made of the physical deterioration of this class, and laws are enacted to limit the working hours of children; and in the last session of parliament, mr. mundella introduced a bill to fix the limit for women below that of men. the bill did not pass, but it will be introduced again in the next session. the large shopkeepers and manufacturers are, again, more assimilated to us in their possibilities for rapid changes in financial conditions; but at best they are a small class, and efficient help is more easily attainable. with us, as soon as a man becomes conscious that he has good ability for work, he finds for himself an independent place. here, as a rule, there is no independent place for him, and he is obliged to sell his ability to some other man who has an independent footing. so that the leader of a scheme is not only relieved from puzzling over details, but a large part of the planning is done by able men in his employ, and he need give but little of his time. as a rule, a man must be on a pretty high platform to have much hope of crowding his way up higher. ii. the importance of health is a dominant idea in the whole nation. this is probably due to the very permanent impress given to english civilization by the feudal system, to the demand made for the permanence of the family, and for the production of warrior barons and warrior retainers. the physical condition, that was formerly a necessity, is now maintained as a matter of aristocratic fashion and pride in ancestry. the higher classes have nothing to do that demands a strong physique, but they devote the best part of their energies to securing it, and set up their own results and methods as a model which the whole nation follow. as evidence of this national interest in health, we may observe the number of public health bills that come into parliament, and it is not strange that they get the most attention from the conservative side of the house. as farther confirmation we observe the great number of holidays spent, not in merrymaking, but in a stroll in the fresh air of the country, and the fact that nearly all the families of the whole nation make as regular provision for one or more "outings" in the year, as they do for the extra wraps for the winter; and still farther, that almost the poorest classes refuse to buy bread and meat of second quality, not from luxurious tastes, but from a belief that it is less healthful. this consideration for health pervades all ranks of the nation. iii. as conducive to the maintenance of health, we find, first, remarkable regularity of habits, which is largely due to the fixedness, or caste state of society, that keeps people in the same grade of life into which they are born; that is, in conditions where they have no occasion to change their habits, and where they have little opportunity for seeing any habits, except those to which they conform. children naturally fall into the ways in which they are expected to go. this permanence of conditions goes far to insure a degree of regularity that almost converts habits into instincts. within the last few weeks, i have for the first time heard an englishman say that he had eaten too much. doubtless this mistake does sometimes occur, but the fact that it puts one at discredit to acknowledge it, is sufficient indication of the popular feeling respecting it. a child, even, is seldom seen eating a bit of fruit, or a bun, at other than the regular meals. once i saw a woman, in an oxford street omnibus, eating a basket of gooseberries, and so unusual was the sight, that i could not help wondering if she were not some stray american. perhaps, in importance even before regularity of living we should rank the athletic habits of the people, their large amount of vigorous out-of-door exercise. the upper classes are, by the customs of society, quite generally excluded from productive industry. they follow the custom of feudal times and live mostly in the country, where walking, driving, riding, and country sports furnish the chief employment and amusement. children are trained into habits of out-of-door exercise till they get an appetite for it, as they have for their food, and it is not unusual to hear an englishwoman say, "i would as soon go without my lunch as without a walk of an hour or an hour and a half in the day;" and the habits of the upper classes, as i have already intimated, percolate down through all ranks of life. as contributing in no small degree to invite this open air exercise, we must include the moderate and equable temperature, and the excellent and attractive roads and walks. iv. almost as the tap-root of this long-lived, hardy race is the strong and universal desire for family permanence, which makes the peculiar constitution that gives the best promise of maintaining the family, the ideal standard for the whole nation. mothers know that their daughters stand little chance of marrying an eldest son, unless they have a well-developed physique, and daughters are not slow in learning the same truth. this necessitates a high physical ideal for the women, towards which they consciously strive, outside of and above the general national habits. these considerations, the repose, the care for health, the regularity of habits, the open air exercise, the demand for a strong physique as security for the permanence of the family, combine to produce a high average of health in men and women alike. in looking into the habits that more especially affect the health of the women, we may separate society into two classes, drawing just below the large retail traders, a line of division which, as a rule, marks the distinction between skilled and unskilled servants. in this upper division, we find a nurse who has served an apprenticeship as under nurse in the same grade of life, a cook who has served as under cook, etc. each servant understands exactly the duties that belong to her sphere, that is, the regimen in her branch of work, proper for a family in that position. fashion says the women of the family should not only do no money-earning work, but also no money-saving work. in short, the best criterion of rank would be the degree and naturalness with which they indulge an absolute leisure. ostensibly they very rigidly obey this fashion, though doubtless, in many cases, some dressmaking or plain sewing is done somewhere out of sight. the plan is for the mistress to spend half-an-hour in the morning in giving her orders and looking over accounts; beyond this, for the women of the family to be exempt from any real household service, while all branches of sewing are to be given to professional seamstresses. if the family lives in town, the evenings are supposed to be very regularly spent in social enjoyment; if they live in the country, they fill in the time as best they can, after the late dinner. but whether at home or away, the food and habits are about the same, or, if there are late hours, the sleep is made up in the morning. the children are in the hands of a competent nurse, and from her they pass to a governess, who looks after their physical habits as well as their lessons. few mistakes are likely to be made. the regimen of habits for the children at the advancing ages is well understood, and the success of the nurse or governess in keeping her place depends upon her fidelity in carrying them out. the children are trained into these regular habits till they become appetites, and seem to be laws of their nature. in the lower division, the servants are less numerous and less efficient. mothers and daughters do a part, or all, of the domestic work. but the baking, in most parts of the country, and much of the sewing, is done out of the house. more servants are employed than in corresponding families with us, and altogether much less work is included in the domestic occupations. in the higher grades of this lower division, the education of the girls continues till from fourteen to sixteen, and is carried on either under a governess, or in small schools, which are either boarding-schools or day schools. the governesses are cheap, and the schools are cheap, and there seems to be little choice between the two plans. the girls have a little history, french, music, and ornamental needlework. below these upper grades, girls are educated at the national schools, where, if they remain long enough, they are taught the common branches and plain needlework, moderately well. through the upper division of society, the education of the girls continues till from seventeen to eighteen. about half of their education, also, is given by governesses, and the other half about equally in boarding and day schools. nearly all private schools are small, rarely exceeding forty pupils, and giving an average of from twenty to twenty-five. if there is but one session of the school, it never exceeds four hours. great pains are taken not to have the schools change the dietary and hygienic habits to which the girls are accustomed at home. they either go home for their simple midday dinner, or they dine at the school, and their daily walks are provided for at home, or taken with a governess at school. that is, there is an approved system of habits for english girls, and these are rigidly carried out, whether they are in a boarding-school or a day school, or under a governess; and on the average, either in the efficiency of the teaching, or the physical results, there seems to be little choice between the three plans. as to the amount of intellectual work accomplished, no english person speaks well, nor indeed with a moderate degree of censure. about ten years ago, a royal commission was appointed to inquire into the condition of the education of the country; and though the plan first contemplated, included only boys' schools, the commissioners were later instructed to extend their inquiry to girls' schools. the report of this commission bore the most concurrent testimony, that the girls' schools were much inferior to the boys' schools. they complained that too many subjects were attempted, too little thoroughness was attained; that there was a disposition to limit the education too largely to moral training; that much time was wasted on music; arithmetic is spoken of as "a weak point," and mathematics, beyond this, as seldom attempted. i have not space for the full consideration of the points brought out by the commissioners. i give only enough to show that the average and almost universal education of english women is wholly of the old-time feminine type--useful sewing, reading, writing, and religious instruction for the girls of the lower classes; ornamental needlework, music, modern languages, history, and english composition for the girls of the higher classes. the result is, as far as i have been able to judge, women who are in a rare degree truthful, pure, and faithful to recognized obligations, but, as a rule, their range of recognized obligations is not very wide, and the subjects in which they take an interest are very limited. among the lower classes men are said to seek society in the beer-shops, and in the higher classes, at the clubs and with their gentlemen friends, because they have little companionship at home. the education is so different that there is far less of companionship between men and women than with us. among the lower classes, great wastefulness in the family economies is attributed to the ignorance of the women. in the report of one of the meetings of the social science congress, i find the statement of a working man which, i am sure, expresses the general feeling of the people of the country. in referring to the want of education, and the consequent want of the home-creating power among the women, he said: "the homes of our artisans are not nearly equal to the work they execute, nor to the wages they earn." among the higher classes, i am disposed to believe, that nowhere else can women be found so exactly fitted for the place that the popular sentiment expects them to fill; in short, that the handiwork of man shows no higher triumph of skill in adapting its instrument to the purpose it is meant to serve, than is seen in these moral, healthy, dignified, orderly, executive english matrons; and though the place they fill in the work of the world is not very large, it is not strange that the conservative sentiment of the country dreads to disturb the perfect balance. the narrow intellectual attainments of these women do not interfere very much with the general prosperity of the family. social position depends so largely upon birth that no amount of intelligence or grace would enable them to add very much to acquaintance or popularity; and the servants are so skilful in their departments, that the cleverest amateur could help them but little. all these women of the upper class uniformly write and speak better english than we do. this is, perhaps, quite as much due to the fact that they neither hear nor read anything but good english, as to the careful drill in english composition given in english schools. i am speaking now of the intellectual attainments of the very large proportion of the women in this upper class; but among them are women, forming a considerable class, with whom we have very few to compare, and none to equal the best. but these highly educated women do not owe their attainments to the schools and governesses. for the most part, they are the daughters of learned men, by whom they have been taught, or they have kept along with their brothers, who were getting "honors" at the public schools and universities. if women have once studied enough to create an intellectual appetite, the privacy of english homes, especially rural homes, furnishes great facilities for fostering it. in regard to the school habits of girls under eighteen, i quote the following statements, from the letter of a teacher whose opinion and practice respecting these matters would be received with as much authority as that of any person in england: " st. we insist upon plenty of sleep. our oldest pupils go to bed at nine o'clock, the younger ones at eight or half-past eight; and none rise before six. we have no work before breakfast. we allow no later hours, and no omission of out-door exercises when preparing for examination. " d. we do not allow them to work immediately after a meal, and after dinner we have no lessons (recitations), except music and dancing, and no heavy study. " d. we regularly secure from one to two hours' exercise in the open air, and we never keep them too long at one occupation; but they must work vigorously while they are about it. " th. we make a great point of warm clothing and careful ventilation of the rooms. " th. the intellectual work is not allowed to exceed six hours per day; and if more than one hour is given to music, the other work is diminished. " th. each girl is watched, and little ailments are attended to." this schedule represents the general practice in the best schools and under the best governesses, and the poorer schools differ mainly only in this, that they permit more dawdling work. in a few schools, girls who are a little older, or are exceptionally strong, are permitted to exceed the six-hour limit of work; but the general habit and feeling would be so much against it, that, as a rule, the girl would not think of asking the exceptional favor, and the teacher would not like the responsibility of giving it. these rules, of course, are not always thoroughly carried out; but with the careful home discipline, the habits of obedience in girls, and the frank intercourse and co-operation between parents and teachers, it is safe to say a pretty strict observance of them is secured. in regard to the care taken of girls during the few years of their most rapid and culminating development there are no rules uniformly observed, except that riding, and very vigorous exercises, are prohibited on the occasions when the system has less than its usual vigor. beyond this, the sixth rule given above covers the whole ground. whatever especial care is needed, is adapted to individual cases. if paleness, languor, or unusual color is observed, it is at once traced to its cause, and that cause is removed. the schools that expect to get the daughters from the best families must show the best results in health. i quote the following from the letter of a teacher whose large and varied experience in teaching girls and women, and whose present educational position, together with her especial knowledge of physiology, makes her, i think, the best authority upon this point: "the result of my observation is, that english mothers and schoolmistresses are very careful about the health of girls between the ages of fourteen and eighteen--in fact, rather disposed to be over-careful, and to listen to the fears of medical men as to overwork. i have known girls who suffered from unnatural conditions of their functional organization, but i can safely say these have never been brought on by mental work; they have been induced by change of diet, such as girls brought into town from the country must always experience, or by coming into a sedentary life after an active one, or from inattention to the action of the digestive organs, but none from mental work. my own experience would lead me most unhesitatingly to say that regular mental occupation, _well arranged_, conduces wholly to the health of a girl in every way, and that girls who have well-regulated mental work are far less liable to fall into hysterical fancies than those who have not such occupation." the following is from the letter of an english medical lady educated on the continent. "the exercise of the intellectual powers is the best means of preventing and counteracting an undue development of the emotional nature. the extravagances of imagination and feeling, engendered in an idle brain, have much to do with the ill-health of girls." in the evidence given by an eminent teacher before the royal commission, in answer to the inquiry whether there was not some danger of injuring the health of girls between the ages of fourteen and sixteen by hard study, i find the following: "i think study improves their health very much. i am sure great harm is often done by hasty recommendation to throw aside all study, when a temperate and wisely regulated mental diet is really required. they will not do nothing, but if they have not wholesome, and proper, and unexciting occupations, they will spend their time on sensational novels and things much more injurious to health. where i have heard complaints about health as being injured by study, they have proceeded from those who have done least work at college. indeed, i do not know of any case of a pupil who has really worked, and whose health has been injured. we have had complaints in a few cases where the girls have been decidedly not industrious." in answer to the inquiry, whether a girl's mind has not a tendency to develop more rapidly than a boy's mind, and whether, in consequence, there is not some risk of its being overstrained, the reply is, "decidedly, if the teacher is not judicious; but supposing that sufficient time is given to exercise, sleep, and recreation, then there is no danger of its being overstrained by a teacher who does not give work that the pupil does not understand. for one girl in the higher middle classes who suffers from overwork, there are, i believe, hundreds whose health suffers from a feverish love of excitement, from the irritability produced by idleness, frivolity, and discontent. i am persuaded, and my experience has been confirmed by experienced physicians, that _the want of wholesome occupation lies at the root of the languid debility of which we hear so much after girls leave school_. i have been considering the question of health somewhat of late, and i have made up from different tables some statistics about literary ladies; from one source i find that the average age to which they live is over sixty-one, and from another sixty-eight; so that i do not think learning can injure their health. harm is often done in this way: where a pupil goes to several different teachers, one of these, ignorant of the amount required by other teachers, may give too much work, and this can only be kept balanced by care from the head teacher, who overlooks the whole." in regard to whether girls from fourteen to eighteen are able to do as much work as boys of corresponding age, the experience is as yet too limited to give any ground for positive opinion. the presumption, based upon the difference in physical strength, is against it. still, girls, on the average, at the best girls' schools, are now doing more work than the average of boys in the best boys' schools. but these girls have better care than the boys have, and none of them do the work of the leading boys, who are looking forward to university honors. all agree that girls have not less mental aptitude, but no one, i am sure, would like to assert that it is safe to subject girls to as much intellectual pressure as may be safely applied to boys. one teacher of both boys and girls confirmed my own observation, that there is often some clog in the development of boys which, though less positive in its action and less productive of a crisis, induces a sort of physical torpor, which is not wholly attributable to rapid growth, as it often appears when the growth may be the very reverse of rapid; against this a boy may be pressed without much danger to his health, but not without liability to give him a distaste for study, thus showing that we are making a demand for an amount of mental force which he has not ready at hand to give. there is, however, but one opinion upon this point--that the least safe thing to do for girls at this nervously critical and mentally excitable period is, to allow them time to indulge and feed their fancies, or to grow weary of themselves; that mental work is as healthful as food, but, like the food, needs careful regulation; and that the health of women would be vastly improved by increasing the school work in degree, and by continuing it beyond the present term, chiefly as a matter of employment to the women in the upper classes. among the lower classes, it would be a means of enabling them to secure more sanitary arrangements in their homes, and, in general, of enabling them to get better results from their annual expenditures. the usual practice in germany, by which dr. clarke confirms his theory, is not the usual practice in england, and there would be great unwillingness on the part of english people to accept it as a general rule. experienced teachers, women physicians, philanthropic men physicians, and wise mothers, are, as i have said, more afraid of an undue development of the emotional nature in these critical years, than of overtaxing the intellectual powers; and it is doubtless true that while very few of the girls and women in the upper classes overwork, a very large number suffer in health from the absence of interesting and absorbing employment. in germany and america the circumstances are different--in the former, girls have more domestic occupations, and in the latter we have to guard, not so much against the depressing influence of idleness, as against the temptation to social excesses, from which energetic school-work seems to be the best shield. but even here, in england, i have found a few thinking, active women who, judging from their individual cases, had come upon dr. clarke's theory for themselves, only, instead of limiting it to girlhood they would extend it through womanhood, calling these periods of repose the natural sunday in a woman's life, during which, if rest of body and mind was indulged, there succeeded a marked renewal or awakening of power--but this is an exceptional view in england. two movements are going on side by side in this country to improve the education of women. one aims to make the ordinary school-work more thorough, the other to extend this school-work into later years of life. in cambridge university established a system of "local examinations" in various parts of the country, for boys or schools of boys who wished to avail themselves of this test for their work. there were two of these examinations, the "junior examination," for boys between the ages of thirteen and sixteen, and the "senior examination," for those between sixteen and eighteen. the effect of this spur upon boys and boys' schools was so apparent that the university, at the request of a large number of women interested in education, in , opened these examinations to girls of corresponding ages, and it was the glaring defects discovered by these examinations that led the royal commission so readily to extend its inquiry to girls' schools. the number of girls' schools, and girls studying under governesses who avail themselves of these examinations, has steadily and rapidly increased, and the results have been such as to leave no doubt in regard to the mental acumen of girls as compared with boys. these local examinations subjected the girls to precisely the same examinations as the boys, but the subjects in which both boys and girls were examined did not follow the precise curriculum of eton, harrow, and rugby; that is, the university, in making up its list of subjects for examination, instead of adapting itself to the long established lines of study for boys, conformed rather to the modern opinion in regard to the best system of education. out of this experiment in examining girls grew a movement to secure a higher education for women, which soon separated into two sections, the one subsequently embodying its views in girton college, the other in the "university examinations" for women above the age of eighteen. the two parties agreed upon these points--that intellectual development takes place in men and women in the same manner, and that the methods that would be best for the one are also best for the other; and that, while the methods at present made use of for girls are wholly inadequate, the standard methods applied in the education of boys and men are by no means in accordance with the best educational opinion of the time. but the friends of girton college said, "admitting these defects in the masculine system, it is, nevertheless, the existing system; it has precedent and popular sentiment in its favor; its standards are the accepted standards for educational measurement; and the education of women will be at a disadvantage, in inferior repute, so long as we test it by a different standard--that is, we can never get full recognition for the intellectual work of women until we test it by the standards accepted for men; and it seems to us that we shall advance the education of women most successfully by falling into the existing routine." the other party said: "we will not waste our energy in crystallizing into a form that is not the best, and that evidently cannot long keep its place in the education of men; we will start upon a plan consistent with the most enlightened educational opinion, and by our results will secure favor for our methods, and respectability for our standards." girton college, now located at cambridge, holds simultaneous examinations with those of the university, and uses the university examination questions. the number of its students is small, and they are for the most part those who are looking forward to teaching as a means of support. by the second, and what seems to be considerably the stronger party, four years ago lectures were instituted in various parts of the country, to prepare women for the university higher examinations. the plan of these examinations and lectures is something like what i understand to be the plan at the german universities. there is no definite curriculum connected with them. they cover a wide range of subjects, each candidate making her selection, and preparing herself for examination in one or more specific subjects, and, if successful, receives a certificate of proficiency in those, except that certain subjects must be passed before a certificate is awarded for others. to meet a widely preferred demand, cambridge university has recently opened these "higher examinations for women," to men; and "mixed classes," as they are called, are now being formed. the university pledges itself to supply the lecturers, provided classes of a certain size are formed in towns sufficiently adjacent to be grouped together. under this last extension of its educational advantages, the university proposes that, in each place, a lecture on one subject shall be held at some hour in the middle of the day most convenient for women to attend; and one on another subject shall be held in the evening, with reduced fees, for the benefit of the working classes. each lecture is open to any one who will pay the fees; but, as a rule, the higher classes would go to the day lectures, and the lower classes to the evening lectures. to supplement these lectures, which in each subject occur but once a week, in each of a group of three towns, what is called a "class" is held on a second day, when, by the payment of a small additional fee, any one can go for further instruction upon any point which he was not able to grasp from the lecture. the lectures recommend a course of reading, and suggest subjects for investigation, just as is done by the lectures in the university. these examinations, as i understand, are considered as severe as the examinations for the same subjects in preparation for the b.a. degree at the university. the plan is to carry systematic instruction in the branches of university education into all the large towns, and to keep it at a cost that can be afforded by women and working men. i have spoken only of the cambridge university examinations; but, though cambridge has taken the lead in this work, the other universities have followed along at more or less remote intervals, and the london university has, here as elsewhere, placed its standards above those of the others. the present system looks something like an itinerant university; but no one can predict just what it will become. all this work is simply experimental. plans are adopted to meet the present exigency, and new ones are at any time engrafted. but a few strongly-set tendencies are unmistakable, old forms are giving way, education is working its way down below the rich, men and women are coming together in their intellectual work, and the notion of "finishing" an education sometime between twelve and twenty-three, promises to be forgotten. the elasticity of this more german system, into which english education is drifting, will obviate the difficulty so much complained of in the english university system, that of forcing all students, irrespective of the varying mental and physical powers, through a definite course of study in a definite period of time. opportunities for instruction are offered. students choose the subjects, devote as much time to them as they like, present themselves at the annual examinations if they choose, and when they choose. the university promises to provide good instruction, to test the thoroughness of the work of all who desire the test, and to award certificates of success to all who come up to its standards; and these certificates will doubtless eventually be able to sum up into degrees, or else degrees will lose their especial value, and be abandoned. limiting the ages of the candidates for the several examinations, though seemingly a little arbitrary, aims to avoid encouraging too precocious advancement, while there is a willingness to make exceptions in favor of pupils who are shown to be exceptionably able. i do not find, in the english schools, and certainly there is not in the universities, a rigid practice of giving daily marks for the work. the teachers lecture, and the pupils take notes. in the schools these notes are carefully examined, and the pupils who give evidence of deficient knowledge of the subject, are sent to a leisure governess, for especial instruction. at the universities, the only tests are the examinations, and at the schools, the examinations are chiefly relied upon for promotions. this plan allows pupils of irregular power, and varying health, to admit these same irregularities into their work, without great prejudice to the total credit of their results. with these two systems of allowing choice in the number and kind of subjects pursued, and of testing the work by examinations, rather than daily records, provision is made for the differences of power and aptitude between different students, and for the occasional variations in physical vigor, which are likely to occur with any except those who possess the strongest constitutions--and this, with the athletic habits and general care for health that pervades english life, is likely to prove a pretty good safeguard against excessive mental work for both men and women; though, of course, individual cases occur where, driven by ambition or necessity, one incautiously puts more strain upon his powers than they can bear. the english sentiment in regard to the advisability of encouraging young women to pursue precisely the same course of study as young men, would be expressed in this way: "it is rarely advisable for any two young men to pursue an identical course of study. the chief aim of education is to develop the mental faculties, to enable us to observe accurately, and judge correctly; the practices that secure these results are various; one set of practices may be better adapted for the training of one mind, and another set better adapted for training another mind, and no one set will fail to give good results, if pursued with energy. in the choice, we are, as a rule, safest to follow the individual inclination. as yet, women have been so limited in opportunities, that they have had little chance to discover their mental inclinations, either as a class, or as individuals." the statement would, i think, go no farther. the question of co-education has as yet scarcely come into the popular mind. small experiments, prompted usually by convenience, have been made, so far as i have heard, with uniform success, and the practice is making its way into the higher education of the country. women are already admitted to the political economy class, and one or two other classes in university college, london; as i have said, the lectures and classes organized under the recent plan of cambridge university, for carrying university education into the towns, are open to men and women in common; and the various governing bodies are now discussing the question of admitting women to degrees in london university, to both classes and degrees in queen's college, belfast, and to classes in owen's college, manchester, and a bill is likely to be introduced into the next session of parliament, to empower all the universities to extend their privileges to women, if they desire to do it. the time-honored precedents are at present against the plan, but the practice of these highest authorities will soon turn opinion in its favor. the lack of funds to educate women, the rapidly growing feeling that men and women are at present too much separated by social customs and differences in tastes, and the belief that it would promote a higher moral tone among men, are uniting to produce a strong current of interest and feeling in favor of the system. young men at the english universities rarely overwork. popular feeling, fashion, respectable sentiment--call it as one will--is all against considering health secondary to anything. a few evenings ago i chanced to be talking with a university young man, who was at home for the holidays. i asked, "about how many hours do your good students work?" the reply was, "rarely more than seven. a few of the hardest reading men--those aiming at fellowships--who do not take more than two hours for exercise, work a little longer; and they work longer just before the examinations." when i smiled at the evident contempt thrown upon the "two hours for exercise," he said, "you do not think two hours enough for exercise, do you?" in all the best english schools, either for boys or girls, the plan is to work with vigor, and play with vigor. there are hours enough for sleep to secure good rest; then work is arranged to give variety, and confined within moderate limits of time, so that if a pupil does extra work, he does it by extra intensity. after leaving school, english girls in the upper and middle classes give more time to society than american girls do; that is, society is the regular evening occupation, and in the day-time there is little to do but to recover from the previous evening. but society is relieved of a large part of the excitability that attends it with us. the wealth and social position of the family and the ingenious tact of mammas, as a rule, win the husbands, and the daughter needs only to be in sight. it is not at all rare to go to an evening party and know no one but the host and hostess, and as introductions are rarely given, one has only to look about and go home when she is tired. at a dinner-party she is told the name of the one who leads her to the table, but she is always at liberty to talk as little as she likes, and she offends the social taste if she talk very much. english mothers of this class have very little to do except to give birth to their children, and go through the established routine of dinners and calls. if there is any complaint respecting the work they have to do, it is of the deficit, and the inferior health of the women between their school-days and their wifehood is to be accounted for by the want of occupation and independence. they have no more to do, and no more chance to exercise their wills, than during the first six years of their lives. after the early years of marriage the health almost uniformly improves, and by the time they are forty or forty-five, they have usually attained a ripe perfection of health, which gives them a physical superiority over the men for the remaining twenty-five or thirty-five years of their lives, and also over the women who have remained unmarried. the sentiments that pervade, and the circumstances that control our life, and the habits they engender, are very different. it is not possible for us to have habits whose regularity shall so nearly convert them into instincts as is the case with the english. we have to make our lives out of the conditions about us, and these conditions change year by year. the opportunities for acquiring wealth and social distinction are so great that they stimulate us to great exertion. our schools give all classes an opportunity for education, and by associating the poorer classes with the wealthier, implant in the former, tastes for the life of the latter, and a keen ambition to attain it, and this imposes upon the latter the necessity of struggling to maintain their position. all our men are over-active; our girls are educated along with the boys, and they not only acquire equal mental power, but common intellectual tastes. men and women are able to be, and are, the companions of each other. our girls have a longing for an active life not felt by the girls in any other country. wives share the hopes, fears, and anxieties of their husbands. they are eager to gain wealth and friends as a means to improve their social position. they economize in the family expenditure; they employ few or no servants, and do plain sewing, dressmaking, and millinery. education and a varied experience gives our women a "faculty" for doing anything, and there is no national sentiment in the matter of either health or respectability to keep then from doing everything. as fast as the daughters grow up, they are drawn into this ceaseless activity. besides the lessons there is house-work in the morning, and sewing till into the late evening. we are a rich nation, but we are not a nation of rich individuals. domestic service is expensive, and of poor quality, for no one is willing to occupy the position of a menial who can find anything else to do. the intelligence of our women, combined with the necessity in our society of producing a good personal impression, together with the habit of applying their intelligence to the construction and arrangement of articles of dress, have developed among us a very high order of taste in these matters, and the skilled labor that can satisfy it, is necessarily very costly. our women spend all they can afford in buying these materials, and save, in using their own intelligence and hands in making them up. very few, in considering the work of our women, take into account the real brain-power expended in this triple combination of economy, taste, and execution. emerson somewhere in his _english traits_ says, referring to the english aristocracy:--"it is surprising how much brain can go into fine manners." it would be very pertinent to say of american women, "it is surprising how much brain-work can go into fine dressing," and our girls join their mothers in this worry and work at a very early age. passing from work to society, the strain upon our women is no less. social gatherings occur irregularly, have irregular hours, and an irregular regimen of food, and every one feels a keen stimulus to be both agreeable and brilliant. english faces at a party look as they do at church, and as they do at madame tussaud's. contrast with them the smiles, luminous eyes, and pretty cant or toss of the head of the carefully-dressed american woman, and think of the work to be done the next day. in place of a health-seeking instinct in america, we have a feeling which says, "i do not mind how hard a strain i have, provided i can hold out till i get through it." we are too much employed to think much of the discomfort of moderate fatigue and ill-health. neither have we sufficient feeling respecting the permanence of the family to lead us to plan for a succession of descendants. an american says, "i had rather have forty-five or fifty years of active, satisfactory life, than sixty or seventy years of a comfortable, dawdling existence;" and, if we look at the case only as it affects himself, we cannot especially condemn the reasoning, but when we consider the constitution that this overstrained life bequeathes to the children, it assumes a different aspect. being accustomed to see an attenuated, sickly physique in our leading and best-bred families, the eye is mis-educated; we establish a false ideal for women, and become comparatively indifferent to a fine physique in men. men do not marry with a view of founding or continuing a family name, and their sentiment of gallantry inclines them to be fond of protecting a weak woman. irregular habits are to some degree a necessity with us, and the greatest misfortune is, that we get used to the irregularity, and take little pains to avoid it. we have some rules in regard to diet and digestion, but they are for the most part practised only by those who have acquired ills, and are not very frequently applied in the rearing of children. the extremes of climate, and our uninviting roads, discourage open air exercise, and comparatively few have much time to go out. our children do some more work at school than english children, and they have a good deal more of their time wasted in our system of text-books and "recitations," a word not known in england in the sense in which we use it, which requires that the able and conscientious pupils of the class shall look on while the weak and indolent ones are being drilled; which plan, judging from my own experience at school and college, i feel justified in saying, involves for them not only a waste of from one to three hours a day, but a fatigue fully or nearly equal to the same amount of time spent in study. we put great pressure upon class rank, the value of which is determined by the daily marks. this forces pupils into a very high degree of regularity in their work; at the same time it has most effect upon the most conscientious pupils; if it does not lead them to overdo in work, it is liable to make them overworry about the work, and girls suffer far more from this overworry than boys. in considering the relation between the health of the country and the education, the few women who have had a university course of study need not be taken into account. most of them have reached an age when people are allowed to decide upon their own habits, and, as a matter of fact, these habits have been determined by stern necessities, by the hard, money-getting circumstances that surround women, rather than by choice. at antioch college, with few exceptions, they were women who were looking forward to self-support, and who were borrowing the whole, or a part of the money required for their current expenses, on the promise of repaying it with the wages of their subsequent work. many of them were absent a part of the year, teaching, were giving private lessons, or were teaching classes in the preparatory school connected with the college; and, if a few hours of leisure were left after all this employment, they were likely to be spent upon extra studies; aside from this, they did their own sewing, and many of them boarded themselves. they often overworked, but it was the necessities of their lives that were driving them, and not the curriculum of antioch college. however, if the english feeling respecting health, and the means of preserving it, prevailed in our country, these mistakes would less frequently occur. unquestionably our whole nation needs some escape from its exhausting activities. we need either less work, or some more skilful combination of the different varieties of work, that will secure us more rest, and, except in a small circle of wealth, our women, as a rule, need this rest more than the men. we need repose, freedom from anxiety perhaps, more even than freedom from work. how are we to get it? we cannot have back the caste condition of society, nor would we desire it. we cannot stop the progress of our system of free education, nor would we be willing to do it. we cannot set aside the practice and belief in equality of education for men and women; men would not like it, and women would not permit it. there are many things that can be done that will conduce to the desired result, and the best among them for women is, to organize women's work. the education is not a mistake; the fault lies in this, that the industries of women have not kept pace with their advancing education. they have been exempt from bread-winning to a degree unknown in the old countries, and the average education is far higher than exists elsewhere among women. they have startled the world a little by attempting a few of the intellectual industries hitherto monopolized by men, and, though the opening of the professions, or, indeed, all lines of human industry, to women, is not to be undervalued, of almost infinitely greater importance is the application of scientific economical principles to the large sphere of work already in their hands, and which is remaining in a disastrously undeveloped condition, just because it is in their hands. the low rate of female wages leaves them the monopoly of it, and they dawdle along in the ways of their grandmothers, out of sight behind the advancing masculine industries. it is surprising to foreigners that in the application of the division of labor principle to domestic work, we are actually behind them, that we still permit such excess of work and excess of waste in our domestic arrangements. cooking and sewing, the two leading branches of domestic industry, are with them to a very large degree trades, while nursing and laundry-work are trades in a far greater degree than with us. upon this point of the organization of domestic industry, though one that i have long been considering, i can do no better than to refer to the suggestive article of mrs. e. m. king in the _contemporary review_ for december, . the substance of this article was presented at the last meeting of the british association. the right honorable mr. forster occupied the chair, and at the close of the discussion remarked that he should not like to give up his private home. now, it is not to be supposed that royalty would at once give up its palaces to rush into the society of a set of co-operative homes, nor that right honorables with "large fortunes" would make close bargains in domestic service. the scheme at the outset would recommend itself only to those whose incomes did not provide an adequate supply for their wants on the present wasteful plan of domestic life, and who saw in this system a means to secure larger returns for their outlay of money, and it could advance in favor only as it fulfilled this promise. seeing a trustworthy principle of economy in the plan, the _spectator_ turned pale, and declaimed against the destruction of the time-honored english homes; and london builders began to consult mrs. king in regard to the house arrangements for carrying out her plan. there will be no difficulty in preserving the desired privacy for the family, though the wearying privacy of many english homes leads not a few to think it is not worth preserving in the english degree. adopt and apply the plan of which mrs. king suggests an outline, press the division of labor principle in woman's work as far as it will go, and the wives and daughters who make our homes will not break down from overwork. the readiest and surest corrective for the excessive greed of our girls for society is to carry on the system of co-education. this supplies a temperate gratification to the social appetites, induces girls to remain longer in school, and to do more thorough work, thus securing to them other sources of pleasure than social amusements and the companionship of friends. the process of co-education tends to develop a well-balanced character, and to put into it a trustworthy ballast, which american girls cannot afford to do without. for confirmation of this, one need only read the reports of any school judiciously managed on this plan, or he need only use his eyes in comparing the past school days with those of girls educated in the high schools and private schools of our western cities. of course girls of the present average habits and inherited tendencies must not be pressed up to quite the same degree of work that may be safely required of their brothers, who have fewer domestic demands upon their time, more out-of-door exercise, a freer style of dress, and, in general, healthier habits of life. many a girl who takes especial care of herself--and, as a rule, the able girls do this--or who has especial care from her mother, may safely do what the best boys do without especial care. but so long as girls require from one hour and a half to three hours a day, to be, or to develop themselves into, the conventional girl, and boys require only about one-third of that time to get themselves up into the conventional pattern for a boy, girls must either be superior to boys to begin with, or they must economize their power better, if they are able to do as much school-work in a year as boys; that is, if girls must consume power in all the ways that constitute the approved specialties of girls, they cannot do the whole work of boys without doing much more than boys do. whether the future has possibilities for girls that will give no occasion for this deficit of available power for school-work, it is impossible to say. oberlin college and michigan university report that the young women are no more frequently absent from their classes on account of ill-health than the young men. but it must be remembered that the women are few in number, and in some important respects more above the average of women than the young men are above the average of young men. especially in the respect of a prudent care for their health their necessities have made them wise--and this will be the character of most of the women who go to college for some time to come. our schools, too, show as high an average of work for girls as for boys, but this must not be wholly put down to equal resources. girls, on the average, are more anxious for approval than boys are, and if work is assigned them, in spite of disadvantages they are quite as likely to do it as boys are. nor are we to suppose that the best average education for the present girls would show just the same average in direction as the best average education for boys. oberlin, the oldest experiment in co-education at college, arranges its plans with especial reference to the average differences between the quantity and direction of the school-work at present demanded for men and women. it has its "ladies' course," as well as its university course. the young women are allowed to pursue the university course, though out of the four or five hundred young women who are in attendance, those who have taken degrees give only an average of about two in a year. at antioch there was a large range of optional subjects, and among them was greek, which the western young men were about as much disposed to omit as the young women. the curriculums of the western high schools have also a wide optional margin. the growing educational sentiment is setting aside the old idea that it is well for all boys to pursue the same line of study, independent of tastes, and past and prospective circumstances in life; and another still more pernicious notion is sure soon to give way, that boys and young men, of whatever physical and brain power, are to be put through a definite course of study in just the same time. no one thinks it much of a guarantee for a man's scholarship that he holds an a.b. or an a.m. degree. this only assures us that he has spent four years at some institution that has a right to confer these degrees. when our system of schools and colleges is sufficiently flexible to meet the varying needs of boys and young men, we shall not find that it lacks anything to adapt it to the varying needs of boys and girls, or men and women. men furnish us with examples through the whole scale of physical power and mental aptitude, and so do women. the best girls will at least have no difficulty in carrying on three subjects of study, while the best boys carry on four; and girls not only can, but as a rule do, remain longer at school than the boys. it would be well, too, to give more credit to the specialties of girls in the schools. i can think of nothing else that would conduce so much to the thorough and satisfactory study of music as to give it an optional place in our school curriculums. doubtless the best plan would be to give girls a moderate amount of home work along with their school-work--that is, to develop a united domestic and intellectual taste. with the habit once formed of making this combination of pursuits, we should be much surer of their continuing their intellectual cultivation through life. if this could be done, they ought, as a rule, to be able to do more than men do in the last fifteen or twenty years of their lives. the results of our experiments in co-education have so far indicated that there is no difference between the intellectual tastes of men and women. this i do not accept as final. the prevailing sentiment in society, that girls cannot do all that boys do, and that they are a little in discredit because they cannot, has given them an undue stimulus to prove their power by experiment; and it is well that they have done it, to silence the doubts. moreover, the women who were looking forward to the higher places of intellectual industry occupied by men, had to test themselves by the standards established for their rivals. and the same may be said of all the money-getting pursuits for women, outside of the lines of domestic service and sewing; in order to get any ground, they have had to fall into men's ways, so that their work could be tested by men's standards. to prove that they were the equals of men, they have had to prove that they were the equals of both women and men; they have had to learn and to be all that other women know and are, and, in addition, to equal men in the points where men surpass women; while their masculine rivals are exempt from all the demands for time and thought bestowed upon the specialties of women. when women can gain authority for their own standards--the right to work in a woman's way, tested only by the quantity and quality of their results, that is, by the value of their work to society--money-earning women will not break down in health any more than money-earning men do, nor will the total of their work appear smaller than the total of men's work. there is no intrinsic reason why women's work, done in women's way, should have less commercial value and creditable recognition than men's work, done in men's way. poems are in as good repute and sell as well as books of philosophy, and house decorators are as much in demand, and are paid as well as architects. the present industries of women are undeveloped; there is among them, as yet, no sphere for skilled, high-class work, and many of the industries that naturally belong to women have been developed by men, and are possessed by men. the wages of women are low, because there are too many workers for the range of work they are attempting to do. the industries that are exclusively in their hands are almost wholly at a stage where intelligent labor is not required, and so few of the industries that have been developed by men are open to them, that, owing to the great competition, even the skilled work of women, as yet, commands but a low price. they want more work, and especially a larger amount of intelligent or skilled work. they must both organize and develop, by the application of the division of labor principle, the work they already have, and they must win from men a part of their work. but they can make their way into the industries occupied by men, only by doing the work in men's way, and underbidding men in wages. when they once get undisputed possession, they can and do apply their own methods. mr. mundella's bill, to which i have already referred, will, as is believed, if it become a law, put a great obstacle in the way of their progress. it is to the interest of the mill-owners to keep their machinery at work as many hours as they can, and if men will work ten hours a day, while women are prohibited from working more than nine and a half, men will be employed in preference to women, even with the disadvantage of larger wages. but, fortunately, it is said, the women cannot be wholly driven out. in some branches of the work they do so much better than the men, that even if this reduction of hours should be enforced, the mill-owners will still find it to their advantage to employ women. the women in these special lines have already proved the value of women's work done in women's way. i believe women have also got a similar recognition in some branches of the watchmaking trade; and in teaching, they have already proved the superiority of their methods. they get forward slowly, because of the great strain required in using men's methods to get the gates opened to them, and mr. mundella's bill would put an extra bar across the gates. the wages are kept low along the line of their advance, because an army of laborers follow along so fast in the rear. i have no fear but that women will stand a fair chance with men in the industries of the world, when they once get a free and open way into them, and learn to apply scientific principles as men do. fine manipulation in a hand is fast coming to be as valuable a quality as strength. to secure the changes that all wise or good feeling must desire for women, many things are needed; and as i have said, first of all, we need organization in domestic work, in order to reduce the quantity, to save waste in materials, and to develop a better quality of work, by making the different departments into trades or skilled industries--thus we must put our cooking under the care of chemists and physiologists, and in a variety of ways provide work for wives and daughters suited to their intelligence, and relieved of coarse drudgery. we need women physicians, employed by the year, whose duty and interest it will be to keep the family in health, and thus avoid the occasions for curing them when they are ill; and here is the safeguard for our girls--a person familiar with both the home life and school life of the children, and whose interest would forbid her to yield either to the weak affection of the mother, or the thoughtless ambition of the teacher. the familiar conversations that would naturally spring up between competent women physicians on the one side, and mothers, children, and cooks on the other, would contribute vastly to the improved diet and general sanitary habits of the family; and open a way to more rapid progress in determining the relation between different varieties of food and peculiarities in the mental and physical powers and appetites. we need creditable wages, given in employments for women other than teaching, in order to save our schools from being the receptacle of all women who have occasion to earn money. we need some half-time system in our schools, to provide for the pupils who have less health or less time; and also to secure for them teachers from a higher class of families, who find all-day work uncomfortably exhausting or confining. we need to raise the scale of feminine wages, in order to invite the application of time-saving inventions in women's work, as they are now employed in men's work. we need a wider range of work for women. as a means to all this we need, and as the result of all of it we shall get, a recognition of feminine methods and standards, as well as of masculine methods and standards. if the specialties in the culture of women are worth preserving, it is because they have value; many of them, i am certain, have real value, and others have a current value, so that we cannot at present dispense with them--if they have value, when we have a free and well-adjusted labor market, they will command their price. for bringing about these changes, we must have well-educated, wise women. our women, in matters of dress, are more completely the slaves of fashion than the women in any other civilized country. this is due to the necessity they feel for making a good personal impression. their family position does comparatively little, either for or against them. they marry, or get forward in life, chiefly by making themselves personally agreeable. when we give them other means of influence than this, when we secure to them industrial and political power, these personal considerations will diminish in importance, and their minds will naturally turn away from them. there are many things awry, many things that need to be improved, but we must be wise in our methods. we cannot exactly imitate the english, nor do i believe it is worth doing. the malthusian chorus of political economists suggests the notion that a nation may be over-physical. we want health for ourselves, and healthy tendencies for our descendants. beyond this, we want to send our surplus force to the brain. mary e. beedy. ladbroke road, notting hill, london w. mental action and physical health. mental action and physical health. none can appreciate the weight attaching to the words of a distinguished member of an honored profession, as well as the younger members of that same profession. they know something of the toil needed to achieve a worthy reputation, and of the talent implied by the capacity for toil. they know how to discriminate between the careful opinions of mature and deliberate judgment, and the headlong assertions of rash busy-bodies and amateurs. they understand, because they feel, the inevitable esoterism that must persist at the kernel of all democracies, unless these degenerate into mere rabble and intellectual mob: they are the last, therefore, to maintain that one person's word is as good as another's; that common sense is competent to solve all questions; that freedom of thought means the right of all to think as they please. knowing, on the contrary, the extreme complexity of all problems, and the facility with which the most upright judgment may become warped in meditating upon them, they are prepared to exact a long apprenticeship in thinking from those who assume the right to think in public, and a minute familiarity with facts from those who undertake to defend any opinion in regard to them. whenever a writer, by previous and just reputation, offers conclusive proof of such apprenticeship, familiarity, and ability to judge, his conclusions must be examined with care, and disputed, if at all, with respect. yet such examination is as essential to the interests of truth as is the just ascendancy that may be acquired by repeated success in the difficult task of investigation. those who reject it as superfluous or impertinent, or who decry opposition as shallow obstinacy, are always those least competent to measure the weight of arguments on either side, and whose approval of authority must be as valueless as the dissent from authority certainly _may_ be. the singular avidity with which the press and the public have seized upon the theme discussed in dr. clarke's book on _sex in education_, is a proof that this appeals to many interests besides those of scientific truth. the public cares little about science, except in so far as its conclusions can be made to intervene in behalf of some moral, religious, or social controversy. in the present case, a delicate physiological problem has become as popular as theories on epigenesis, spontaneous generation, or darwinian evolution, and for an analogous reason. as the latter are expected to decide in the doctrines of natural or revealed religion, so the former is supposed to have a casting vote in regard to the agitating claims for the extension of new powers to women. on the one hand, the inspiration of scripture, on the other, the admission of women to harvard, is at stake, and it is these that lend the peculiar animus and animation to the discussion. in both polemics, arguments are not accepted because they are demonstrated, but enlisted because they are useful; ranged with others recruited from the most distant quarters, with nothing in common but the regiment into which they are all thrust, to be hurled against a common enemy. a remarkable change has taken place in the tone of habitual remark on the capacities and incapacities of women. formerly, they were denied the privileges of an intellectual education, on the ground that their natures were too exclusively animal to require it. to-day, the same education is still withheld, but on the new plea that their animal nature is too imperfectly developed to enable them to avail themselves of it. formerly, psychology was widely separated from physiology, and the study of the mind began and ended with demonstrations of the immense gulf by which it was separated from the body. to-day, psychology has become a section of physiology, and mental philosophers busy themselves with searching out in all its details, the close dependence of the mind upon the body. insanity has become an inflammation of the cortical substance of the brain: idiocy results from a foetal meningitis: genius is a form of scrofula closely allied to mania: in sleep, the brain loses blood, in intellectual excitement, attracts blood; in the illumination of the death-bed, or the delirium of drunkenness, the circulation through the brain is quickened; in torpidity, melancholy, stupidity, the circulation slackens and stagnates. with this tendency, whose legitimacy we are certainly far from disputing, it is inevitable that the old doctrine of the mental inferiority of women should be defended, if at all, on a new basis; a basis organic; structural, physiological, hence incontrovertible; on an analysis, not of her reasoning faculties, her impulses, her emotions, her logic, her ignorance, but of her digestion, her nerves, her muscles, her circulation. it is inevitable, therefore, that the two great functions of parturition and ovulation, of which the latter is peculiar in form,[ ] and the former altogether peculiar to the female sex, should assume peculiar importance in all discussions about women--inevitable, that to these should be attributed the inferiority of mental calibre or of mental achievement that few care more openly to maintain.[ ] a mysterious interest has indeed always attached to these functions. from the mosaic law to raciborski, from the denunciations of the school-men to the rhapsodies of michelet, they have been invoked in every theory on the nature of women; that is, in every theory on the organization of society. in virtue of them, the woman has been considered, now unclean, now angelic, now touchingly (but irredeemably) helpless. in this connection, the association of ideas has been almost always too powerful and too varied to admit of a dispassionate examination of facts. yet to-day, as already said, the old conclusions may be urged with even greater force than before, because apparently based exclusively upon such cool and impartial investigation. the issue is certainly serious. from all sides surges testimony to the importance of physical conditions as the basis of mental and social life. according to many, it is by the absence of a few grains of iodine from the water of drinking fountains, that the people of the alps are turned into _cretins_. according to others, it is by the presence of a few grains of ergot in the bread, that the people of tuscany lose their limbs in gangrene. endemics of abortion depend on the impalpable vapors that arise from the quicksilver mines of spain. so delicately poised are the forces of life, that an apparent trifle suffices to entirely turn the scale. it is therefore not _a priori_ improbable, that the marked peculiarities of physical organization that distinguish the female sex, should determine a radically different mode of mental existence, and exact radically different conditions of mental activity. the whole question, however, is not one of probability or of possibility, but of fact. hence, the last persons capable of judging in the matter, are those who have been vividly impressed with those circumstances that furnish, or may be made to furnish, food for the imagination. of these, michelet is perhaps the type, but certainly many of the reviewers who have been occupied with dr. clarke's book, must be ranked in the same class. would it be disrespectful to dr. clarke's far better informed judgment and technical knowledge to suggest, that he himself does not seem to be perfectly free from the influence of the glamour that invests the study of physiological peculiarities in women, wherever these can be made to tell upon any social or moral relations? dr. clarke does not indeed affirm, with michelet, that women are essentially diseased. "_la femme est une malade._" where michelet leaves to the healthiest women but a single week of every month for normal existence, dr. clarke believes that one week out of the month alone requires any special precautions, and that, with decent care at this time, "an immense amount of work" can be accomplished in the remainder. he is careful to say, and even to repeat, that the intellectual labor to which such disastrous results are attributed, is not in itself incompatible with the nature of the woman, nor, even when improperly pursued, can it be considered as the sole cause of the delicate health of american girls. dr. clarke indeed guards his every assertion with a care and precision that is worthy of imitation by those who draw such large deductions from his book. when, however, all illegitimate inferences have been set aside, and we come to the propositions really and categorically maintained, we find the following: st. during the catamenial period, _i.e._, during one week out of every month, a woman should abandon intellectual or physical labor, either because she is already incapacitated for it, or because she will be so ultimately, if she does not take the precautionary rest. d. a large number of american girls become affected with amenorrhea[ ] or menorrhagia[ ] solely on account of excessive mental exertion at such periodical epochs of incapacity. d. it is possible to educate girls properly, only by regularly intermitting their studies at such times, and by "conceding to nature her moderate but inexorable demand for rest during one week out of four." th. consequently, it is chimerical to attempt to educate girls with boys, whose organization requires no such periodical intermittence. th. if sufficient precaution be observed during the first years of adolescence, and the establishment of menstruation, such excessive care will become unnecessary when the constitution is fully formed, _i.e._, after the age of eighteen, nineteen, or twenty years. in regard to these propositions we wish to try to show--that the first contains a certain exaggeration of fact: that in the second a certain sequence of phenomena has been attributed to the wrong cause, and that much more important causes can be demonstrated: that in the third, a precaution needed for many has been unduly generalized for all: finally, that the fifth proposition entirely annuls the inference contained in the fourth. we believe the exaggeration of fact to be twofold, that is, first, in regard to the number of girls to whose health the menstrual period makes any sensible interruption. second, in regard to the duration of such interruption, among the majority even of those who are indeed obliged to submit to it. dr. clarke himself admits that the susceptibility he describes in a certain number of cases, is not universal, but he claims that this is the rule, and the reverse the exception. such a claim can only be substantiated by an appeal to relative statistics, which are well known to reverse many conclusions drawn from general impressions of facts. statistics are reliable only when compiled on a large scale; but in an inquiry of this nature, a few contributions from various sources are not useless. among twenty persons, not considering themselves invalids, of whose cases i have taken notes, in six only, had menstruation ever been the cause of any suffering whatever. the ages of the persons questioned ranged from eighteen to thirty, but the inquiry referred to the entire menstrual life. several among these young ladies had attended mixed schools, and had never been compelled to absent themselves for a single day. several had been engaged for three or four years in the study of medicine; some, for a much longer period, had engaged in its practice. among the six exceptions, one had been healthy until twenty-one, and then had suffered from ovaritis, so that, although engaging in the work of a healthy woman, she should really be classed apart. one was subject to epileptic convulsions, and may therefore be fairly ruled out for the same reason. the remaining three were in good, even robust, general health. in two, pain was experienced for two days, and a certain diminution of capacity for mental exertion, which, however, had never been sufficient to necessitate its interruption. one of these cases was a woman of thirty, who had been married for ten years without child-bearing. in the third case on the list, pain had never lasted more than six or twelve hours, and had been very greatly diminished during four years that the young lady had engaged in constant medical study. finally, in the fourth case, the early years of adolescence were marked by quite severe dysmenorrhea, the pain only lasting, however, twelve hours. between twenty-five and thirty, the pain disappeared, but the menstruation became menorrhagic (excessive). this was the only case on the list where no constant intellectual exertion had ever been made, but where the nervous system had been subjected to the strain of much moral emotion and anxiety. the girl belonged, moreover, to a family in which uterine disease was almost universal among the female members. while at first glance, therefore, it would appear that the proportion of women invalidated by menstruation was nearly as high as one-third, closer inspection shows that among these cases selected at random, the proportion is only one-fifth or one-sixth, if the calculation be confined to persons who had received much intellectual training. among these cases, moreover, there is not one in which the period of suffering is as long as would be indicated by dr. clarke. six, twelve, forty-eight hours is the outside limit. if extended beyond this, or even if very severe during this time, there is always reason to suspect actual disease of the uterus or ovaries, and the cases must be excluded from considerations only applicable to persons in average health. from this point of view, the week of rest demanded by dr. clarke, is as excessive as the three weeks' disturbance so imaginatively described by michelet. but it is true that the stand-point in dr. clarke's book is somewhat different from this. he scarcely alludes to the presence of pain in menstruation, because this is presumed, when existing, to itself constitute a sufficient warning against over mental exertion, indeed, to render such exertion impossible. but the warning in question is directed against a more insidious accident, that may occur without pain, and which is more easily and imprudently defied. this imminent danger is hæmorrhage, or an increase of the physiological flow to such an extent that the vitality of the patient is drained as from an open vein. the constant repetition of such hæmorrhage may lead to uterine congestions, or even to amenorrhea, _i.e._, entire absence of menstruation. but it originates in functional disturbance, in exhaustion of the nervous system by intellectual exertion. on account of the imminence of this danger, the period of real incapacity for mental effort lasts much longer than conscious discomfort is likely to do--lasts, indeed, as long as the physiological afflux of blood to the uterus--which, by the means described, may at any moment become excessive. dr. clarke alleges but one kind of proof of this assertion. he relates a certain number of cases, interesting in themselves, but whose histories are lacking in many important details, where healthy girls, whose menstruation was at first perfectly normal, became, after two or three years' study at school, liable to monthly hæmorrhages, so excessive that their health was completely undermined. no organic cause for such disorder could be discovered. by interruption of study, rest, amusement, travel, the hæmorrhages were diminished, the health restored. in several of these cases, however, resumption of study on the old plan was followed by the immediate return of all the previous accidents, and often the constitution was entirely ruined. we think that this argument might be exactly paralleled by the following, which should prove whisky drinking to be an efficient[ ] cause of yellow fever. a physician might select twenty cases of men, personally known to him, who had lived twenty and thirty years in new york or boston, and never had yellow fever. during this time they had taken little or no whisky, but afterwards, removing to new orleans, they fell into the habit of drinking, and, at varying intervals from that date, caught the fever, and in many instances, died. therefore, fever was due, at least in these cases, to the newly contracted habit of drinking whisky. -a and -b = -c -a +b = c. therefore, c = a. hamerton, in his little book on the intellectual life, accuses women, even the bright and intelligent among them, of a "plentiful lack" of intellectual curiosity. if their attention is attracted to a phenomenon, they rarely inquire as to its cause. if an assertion is made, they accept it with enthusiasm or repel it with indignation, but rarely analyze the conditions upon which the assertion is based. this remark seems justified, though perhaps not exclusively among women, by the total absence of curiosity that has been shown in regard to the physiological facts in question. the assertion that nervous excitement, produced by intellectual work, is capable of affecting an apparatus apparently so remote from the organ of the intelligence as is the vascular system of the uterus, certainly implies some most interesting physiological facts and a mechanism the reverse of simple. into these facts and this mechanism it behooves all to inquire, who assume the responsibility of either accepting or rejecting dr. clarke's theory and the deductions that have been made from it. this theory concerns exclusively one class of uterine hæmorrhages, those, namely, which may be traced to the influence of the nervous system. before analyzing such influence it is important to notice two other causes of menorrhagia, that are very frequently present in just such cases as dr. clarke describes. these are prolonged sedentary position, and deficiency of physical exercise. either may determine anemia, or impoverishment of the blood, a condition which alone is sufficient to induce excessive menstrual flow.[ ] but, in addition, each has a special action more direct. by long continuance of a sedentary position the equilibrium of the circulation is disturbed, the blood is driven from the limbs to the internal organs and the dependent portions of the trunk, hence to the pelvis; but almost equally to the head, that is hanging down over the school-desk. hence, the uterine hæmorrhages, that are necessarily confined to girls, are paralleled by the nose-bleeding, common to girls and boys, and very frequent in such circumstances. the cramped position of the chest interferes with respiration; the bowels are generally constipated, and both conditions again favor congestions of the visceral organs, including the uterus, but not confined to it. to deficiency of physical exercise is due, besides the disturbance in the equilibrium of the circulation, first, a loss of heat that should be evolved during the chemical processes of muscular action; second, a loss of stimulus to the spinal cord, which has, therefore, less power to control ganglionic action. this latter, therefore, becomes irregular, and the consequences of this irregularity will be presently described. the influence of these two conditions--cramped sedentary position, and deficiency of muscular exercise--either sufficient to induce uterine hæmorrhage, must, therefore, be eliminated, before such accident can be attributed to any other cause less simple and direct. the first criticism to be addressed to the "statistics" contained in dr. clarke's clinical chapter, is, that this necessary elimination has not been made, and one possible cause arbitrarily selected out of an entire group of known causes. as far as may be gathered from his book, dr. clarke's theory may be thus formulated. two intense nervous actions cannot, without detriment, be sustained at the same time by the same organization. the mental labor demanded by school studies on the one hand, and the physiological process of menstruation on the other, are each connected with intense action of different parts of the nervous system. they are, therefore, incompatible with each other; and from the attempt to sustain them simultaneously, results, first, the imperfect accomplishment of each; second, the general exhaustion of the over-burdened nervous system. to this exhaustion is to be attributed the uterine hæmorrhages upon which dr. clarke insists as the accident particularly liable to be induced by any continuous, _i.e._, non-intermitting, system of education. for non-medical readers it is important to develop the ellipsis and explain the facts upon which, if anywhere, this theory is based. the nervous system, though in many respects a unit, consists of two great sections, called respectively, the ganglionic system, and the cerebro-spinal; the latter formed by the brain, the spinal cord, and the medulla-oblongata, that connects them; the former, constituted by smaller masses of nervous matter distributed in three ways: first, in a double chain lying on each side of the spinal cord, from the upper part of the neck to the pelvic cavity that terminates the trunk. these masses are called especially the sympathetic ganglia. second, in so-called plexuses, occupying different positions in the cavity of the trunk, and standing in especial relation to various organs; the solar or coeliac plexus to the stomach, liver, and spleen; the two renal plexuses to the kidneys; the mesenteric plexuses to the intestine; finally, on each side of the pelvis, the hypogastric plexus to the bladder, uterus, and ovaries--the so-called genito-urinary organs. third, besides these principal ganglia exist others, much more minute, imbedded in the muscular walls of certain organs--as the heart (intro-cardiac ganglia), the intestine (intestinal ganglia). each of these nervous masses contains nerve-cells as well as nerve-fibres, and is capable of generating nerve-force. each, therefore, acts like a minute brain; and, in fact, the entire ganglionic system of nerves is analogous to the nervous system of certain among the lower animals--the crustacea and mollusks. these possess neither brain nor spinal cord; their nerve-centres, instead of being concentrated in a cranium and vertebral canal, are entirely disseminated through the cavities of the trunk, as are the visceral plexuses in vertebrated animals. in these, however, the addition of a brain and spinal cord to the original rudimentary nervous system, powerfully modifies and controls the action of the latter. the degree of control is variable, according to the relative predominance of the one or the other; and this predominance varies, not only according to different species of vertebrated animals, but also according to different individuals, in that which presents the most conspicuous capacity for individual variation--the human species. up to a certain point, increased development of the cerebro-spinal system, attended by an increased development of the osseo-muscular framework of the body, is also accompanied by greater elaboration of the ganglionic nerves supplying the viscera, upon whose efficient action the nutrition of this frame depends. but beyond a certain point in the ascending scale, the exactness of this correlation ceases. the muscles and bones are smaller; yet the structure of the cerebro-spinal organs, especially the brain, becomes more elaborate; and hence the control exercised over the functions of the ganglionic system is more complete, although the relative size of the two systems is not much changed. such control or predominance is manifested in the following ways: first. the functions of animal life, presided over by the cerebro-spinal system, become proportionately more important than those of vegetative or nutritive life, carried on by the ganglionic. that is to say, the acts of locomotion sustained by the spinal cord and the nervo-muscular apparatus, and the intellectual acts of the thought and will, sustained by the brain--are relatively more prominent than are the acts of digestion, respiration, circulation, etc., dependent on the functions of the ganglionic nerves. second. these latter functions are themselves effected with more regularity and more force, when the activity of the cerebro-spinal system predominates over that of the ganglionic. within certain limits, this is so true, that human beings possess over lower animals a superiority, not only of intellect, but of capacity for digesting various articles of food; and of maintaining their temperature in more various states of the external atmosphere. third. finally, the actions of the cerebro-spinal system, intellectual and muscular, are more regular and powerful when not liable to interruption from the operations of the ganglionic nerves, and the visceral functions presided over by them. when the boa-constrictor digests, he falls into a state of torpor that exceeds in degree, but not in kind, the drowsy rumination of a cow chewing her cud. such animals are slaves to their nutritive functions, by which those of the brain and spinal cord may at any time be, as it were, oppressed and overwhelmed. the capacity for independence increases with every rise in the hierarchical scale of vertebrates, until it culminates in man--able to think and talk over his dinner; to manufacture heat in his limbs while drawing blood to his cerebral hemispheres; to sustain in complete unconsciousness innumerable delicate and complicated chemical metamorphoses in all the tissues of his body, while concentrating every conscious effort of his mind upon equally delicate processes of thought and will. the peculiarities that, when coarsely emphasized, serve to distinguish different species of animals from one another, are repeated in more subtle gradations, as varieties among the different classes, and even different individuals of the human race. here may be found, at least, faint echoes and distant reminiscences of facts that stand out in bold relief throughout the animal kingdom. the classification of sex is certainly one of those that offer an interesting opportunity for such comparison, especially in regard to the relations existing between the operations of the ganglionic, and those of the cerebro-spinal system. as the authors who have asserted the complete subordination of the brain to the instincts in woman, have thus, perhaps unconsciously, reduced her to the anatomical level of the crustacea; so those who, like dr. clarke, insist on the incompatibility between cerebral action and the process of ovulation, imply a predominance of ganglionic activity in women that must render them the physiological inferiors of the animals or individuals in whom no such incompatibility exists. were such opposition between cerebral and ganglionic functions only noted when a rhythmical intermittence was introduced into the latter, and were such rhythm observed only in the phenomena of menstruation, it might indeed be possible to fix upon women a peculiar mark of physiological inferiority, almost sufficient to amount to a stigma. but rhythmical movement is characteristic of all physiological actions--of the beating of the heart, the secretions of the stomach, the congestion of the spleen, the circulation of the brain, quite as decidedly as of the ripening of cells in the ovary. the tidal waves described by michelet have become the exclusive theme of his eloquence, mainly because his attention was not attracted to any but those connected with the more obvious phenomena of menstruation. but many tidal waves rise and cross each other in shorter or longer cycles--waves of pulse and of temperature, of sleep and wakefulness, intermittences of secretion and excretion. in regard to the latter, it is noticeable that an intermittent excretion, as of bile or urine, is provided for by a continuous secretion, and that the same is true of the excretion upon whose rhythm an erroneously exceptional emphasis has been laid--that of the menstrual fluid. here, as elsewhere, the intermittent phenomenon is preceded by long-continued cell growth--effected by precisely such processes of cellular assimilation and metamorphosis as take place in the elements of the liver and the kidneys. the cell growth in question is effected in the ovaries; the final stage of the process, the rupture of the containing cell or ovisac, and escape of the ovule, is attended by a concentration of nervous activity in the ganglionic masses sending nerves to those organs--analogous to that which occurs in the solar plexus at periods of digestion; the fall of the ovule is itself analogous to the shedding of epithelial cells in the gastric follicles; the afflux of blood to the utero-ovarian veins, analogous to the periodical congestion of the gastro-splenic vascular apparatus. only, in this last case, the congestion results in the elaboration of a fluid secretion, the gastric juice; in the utero-ovarian plexus, where no secretion is required, the blood itself is discharged. it is difficult, with these facts, to understand the assertion that, "periodicity is the grand (_i.e._ exclusive) characteristic of the female sex." in normal conditions, the process of digestion and of menstruation are both accomplished without invading the consciousness of the individual whose body is the theatre of such extraordinary phenomena. various abnormal conditions raise the one or the other to the sphere of consciousness--various stages in their evolution. consciousness of nutritive functions is always painful, and digestion, quite as well as ovulation, may become a process most disturbing to cerebral tranquility and efficiency. the longer duration of the latter is compensated by the more frequent occurrence of the former. the ovaries are decidedly active during at least fifteen days of every month; the stomach, during three or four hours after each meal, or from nine to twelve hours a day. as a matter of fact the digestive function is much more often the occasion of conscious discomfort, than is the function of ovulation. whenever it becomes so, the dyspeptic approaches the condition of the reptiles or ruminating animals, in whom the process of digestion so absorbs the powers of the nervous system that all other modes of its activity are suspended. but such a condition is universally regarded as an evidence of disease, nor could any considerations concerning the complexity and importance of the ganglionic nerves of the stomach, or the intermittent character of digestion, convert the misfortune of the dyspeptic into a physiological type for the race. at the most may it be admitted: st. that in civilized communities dyspepsia is a very common disease. d. that dyspeptics require rest of mind and body to facilitate the laborious process of digestion. _cæteris paribus_, these same propositions may be held of those suffering from abnormal modes of activity in another part of the ganglionic system--that connected with menstruation. a third proposition is, moreover, common to both, namely, that repose of the cerebro-spinal system is not required throughout the entire period of ganglionic activity, unless in exceptionally morbid cases. thus, the process of digestion occupies from three to five hours, but an hour's repose after dinner is generally sufficient to avert discomfort. similarly, the process of ovulation continues over fifteen days--menstruation lasts from three to six--but even in the cases that demand rest, six to twelve hours is usually enough, and more than enough. it is noticeable that a slighter disturbance of normal conditions is needed to render digestion painful than to cause painful ovulation, that is, pain preceding the menstrual flow. pain in menstruation, which is much more frequent, is dependent upon other conditions than the activity of the ovaries, and lasts a very much shorter time than does either the function of ovulation, or even than the uterine congestion secondary to it. outside of actual uterine disease, the pain at this moment is most often dependent on uterine cramp, itself excited by a spasmodic contraction of blood-vessels that interfere with its circulation. as these remarks are addressed to non-medical readers, a word of explanation is here necessary. it has been shown by experiment that the sudden arrest of the circulation in muscular fibre is sufficient to induce in the latter violent contractions. thus, the cramps of the legs in cholera patients are due to the stagnation of blood in their muscles. these cramps are even more easily induced in the muscular fibre of the viscera--the unstriped, involuntary muscles--such as exist in the intestine, bladder, and uterus. anything that will cause a sudden contraction of the blood-vessels in the uterus will, therefore, by cutting off the supply of blood, cause the muscular fibre of the uterus to contract in painful cramps. the small blood-vessels are themselves provided with circular muscular fibres, whose contraction necessarily draws the walls of the vessels together, obliterates their canal, and shuts out the blood. this contraction is effected by stimulation of the fine nerves, called vaso-motor, that are distributed to these muscular fibres, and which are derived from the sympathetic ganglia, that form part of that same ganglionic system from which the nerves of the ovaries and other viscera are supplied. the utero-ovarian blood-vessels derive their nerves from the hypogastric plexus, which, formed by branches from both sympathetic ganglia and spinal cord, is the exclusive source of the innervation of the uterus and ovaries. the ganglionic nervous excitement coincident with the maturation of the ovule and the congestion of the uterus, is easily communicated to the vaso-motor nerves of the latter organ. at the very moment, therefore, that the uterine blood-vessels are dilated, and blood is being exhaled into the uterine cavity, an excessive stimulation of the vaso-motor nerves may cause the blood-vessels to contract; the flow is then temporarily arrested, the circulation in the uterus disturbed, and its muscular fibres thrown into cramps. or the opposite event may occur. as the stimulation of the vaso-motor nerves causes contraction of the blood-vessels, so their exhaustion or paralysis causes relaxation of these same vessels, consequently, over-distension with blood; and, if the door to hæmorrhage be once opened by the existence of the menstrual nisus, an excessive flow of blood.[ ] such vaso-motor paralysis may depend on one of three circumstances: st. the original stimulus may be excessive, and hence necessarily followed by reaction. nd. schiff has shown that galvanization of a cerebro-spinal nerve causes a dilatation of the blood-vessels in the vicinity, as if the vaso-motor force were overpowered by the excessive stimulation of the controlling nerves. if excessive action of the brain or spinal cord be analogous in its effects to galvanism of a spinal nerve, it might be supposed to cause vaso-motor paralysis and hæmorrhage. d. in general exhaustion of the nervous system, both of its ganglionic and cerebro-spinal apparatus, the vaso-motor nerves suffer with the rest, and the blood-vessels lose their tone in consequence. it is to such exhaustion that dr. clarke especially attributes excessive uterine hæmorrhage in young girls, and, as already said, he refers the exhaustion to a single cause, namely, to the attempt to impose on the nervous system two actions of equal intensity, contrary to the fundamental law that an intense evolution of nerve-force in one part of the organism necessitates repose in the remainder. independently of the three conditions where excessive menstruation is connected with vaso-motor paralysis, a fourth may be found directly in the excitement of the ovarian plexus of nerves. this evolution of nerve-force which accompanies the maturation of the ovule, is the immediate cause of the afflux of blood to the utero-ovarian vessels. the effect upon the latter is probably due to the spinal nerve-fibres contained in the plexus, and upon which the ganglionic excitement acts like the galvanism in schiff's experiment, already described. direct stimulation of the vaso-motor nerves, alone, as has been said, contracts the blood-vessels. stimulation of the spinal fibres associated with them exercises the contrary effect. an excessive stimulation of those fibres which enter into the ganglionic masses, would have an effect similar to that of excessive stimulation directly addressed to the cerebro-spinal system, and the blood-vessels would be not only dilated, but paralyzed. among the conditions, therefore, which may, by inducing either pain or excessive hæmorrhage, render menstruation an abnormal process, and incompatible with active exertion, three are directly connected with the ganglionic system of nerves, the fourth indirectly, by the possible influence upon them of the cerebro-spinal. the first are excessive activity of the ovarian nerves, derived from the hypogastric plexus; paralysis of uterine vaso-motor nerves, as a secondary result of this excessive action: exhaustion of these same vaso-motor nerves, as an element of general nervous exhaustion. the last theoretical condition would be, excitement of the brain or spinal cord, in a manner analogous to what may be determined by a galvanic current, and followed, therefore, by the same consequence--paralysis of vaso-motor nerves, and excessive dilatation of the blood-vessels. the two first conditions among these four are most easily induced when the activity of the ganglionic system is habitually predominant in the organism, or when this activity is habitually irregular. this irregularity, marked by vaso-motor spasm, uterine cramp, and pain, represents the lowest degree of disorder, which, if long continued, passes to the next--of vaso-motor paralysis, accompanied by excessive hæmorrhage; and finally may, as dr. clarke has pointed out, be followed by paralysis in the ovarian plexus itself, with consequent cessation of ovulation, and amenorrhea, or absence of menstruation. this habitual predominance or irregularity of the ganglionic nerves implies, as has been seen, a relatively deficient innervation or generation of nerve-force in the cerebro-spinal system. it could not, therefore, be ascribed to excessive activity of that system, except in the cases where this has been pushed to the point of complete exhaustion. it is, in fact, a matter of common observation, that hysterical and anemic women, in whom disordered menstruation is most frequently observed, are conspicuously destitute of habits implying either cerebral or spinal activity--that is, they neither think much, nor take much physical exercise. the last two cases, however, of cerebro-spinal excitement or exhaustion, may be supposed to imply a predominant activity of the cerebro-spinal system. inquiry into the effects of cerebro-spinal excitement is rendered extremely complicated on account of the following facts: st. experimental excitation, by means of galvanism or mechanical irritation, causes different results when applied to spinal nerves, to different parts of the spinal cord, or to different parts of the brain. galvanism applied to a spinal nerve, determines, it has been said, dilatation of blood-vessels, and increased secretion in glands. but galvanism applied to the spinal cord in the neck, causes contraction of blood-vessels. mechanical irritation of other parts of the spinal cord, on the other hand, causes vaso-motor paralysis and dilatation of blood-vessels. this is especially true of that part lying in the loins, and which contains a peculiar nervous centre, that stands in special relation to the uterus and ovaries, and is involved in many of their diseases, either as a cause or effect. systematic galvanic irritation of the brain has been little attempted, until in some very recent experiments; but its effects are already known to be most various, according to the part to which it is applied. the brain is not a single organ, but rather a collection of organs, differing from one another in function even more than in situation, and among them only some are really concerned in the production of thought. d. in the medulla oblongata exists a nervous centre called the vaso-motor centre, because of its close relations with the vaso-motor nerves. stimulation of this centre causes contraction of the blood-vessels. severing the same part causes paralysis of the vaso-motor nerves and dilatation of the blood-vessels. the conditions of the brain that have been most clearly shown to influence the circulation, are those that can be proved to take an effect on this vaso-motor centre. if, as is probable, different forms of cerebral action induce or depend on different cerebral conditions, or involve different sections of the cranial masses, this effect would necessarily be different, and the influence on the circulation vary accordingly. d. no experimental proof has hitherto been obtained that stimulation of the cerebral organs lying above the vaso-motor centre, and which include those possessing the function of thought, ever paralyzes this centre; but, as it is only by such paralysis that cerebral conditions can induce dilatation of blood-vessels, it must follow that no _experimental proof_ at present exists that stimulation of the brain ever does cause such dilatation--that is, ever does become a cause of hæmorrhage. the _clinical_ facts for such a supposition are those in which the occurrence of an emotion is followed by flushing of the face, acceleration of the pulse, hot or cold perspirations, phenomena all indicative of dilatation of the blood-vessels, with temporary paralysis of their nerves and of their vaso-motor centre. it is not proved, however, that the emotions capable of causing these effects really result from a stimulation of the brain. on the contrary, they are generally accompanied by diminished activity of that cerebral function that most certainly does depend on such stimulation--the function, namely, of thought. now, since the power of thought and the power of the vaso-motor centre are equally paralyzed under these circumstances, it is more probable that the phenomena which most nearly resemble those of stimulation of the brain are either confined to some special part of it, whose activity is in antagonism to the rest, or else are really phenomena of exhaustion, and therefore come under another category. but if these do not, no facts exist to prove that stimulation of the intellectual functions of the brain is in itself capable of producing vaso-motor paralysis--that is, of becoming a cause of hæmorrhage; or, in other words, stimulation of the brain cannot be likened in its effect to galvanic stimulation of a spinal nerve. but if stimulation of the brain does not paralyze, it must increase the tonicity of the vaso-motor centre, and hence the force and regularity of the circulation. up to a certain point, these characters do indeed increase, with increase of pressure in the cerebral blood-vessels. they increase also during intellectual operations, unattended by emotion, in which a similar increase of pressure must take place, on account of the afflux of blood to the cerebral hemispheres, when these are aroused to activity. these facts already indicate a radical difference between the nature of the cerebral actions involved in emotion and in thought. from them also we should infer in all cases where vaso-motor paralysis was apparently traceable to excess of cerebral activity, either _that exhaustion had already occurred, or that the activity was not intellectual but emotional_. in the first case, we should be immediately brought to our fourth possible condition for uterine hæmorrhage, dependent on modifications of the cerebro-spinal system. it is admitted, as the result of many experiments and pathological observations that need not here be quoted, that exhaustion of certain parts of the brain and spinal cord may induce vaso-motor paralysis, and that, if a cause for hæmorrhage is already in operation, a passive flow of blood may be indefinitely increased. such a course is the menstrual crisis, without which even the vaso-motor paralysis is usually unable to determine uterine hæmorrhage.[ ] in connection with it, physical exercise, pushed to the point of exhausting the spinal cord, and the peculiar centre in its lumbar portion, or mental effort so excessive and prolonged as to exhaust the brain, and the general vaso-motor centre, might become causes of menorrhagia. it is evident, however, that if such exhaustion had been produced previous to the menstrual epoch, the effect would be precisely the same as if the morbific causes operated only at the time of menstruation. from this point of view the precaution suggested by dr. clarke, of intermitting intellectual effort during the menstrual period, would be inadequate whenever it was not superfluous. but in dr. clarke's theory this period has a peculiar influence in rendering morbific conditions that at other times are innocuous. this, in virtue of the law already quoted, that the evolution of force at one centre of the nervous system is incompatible with an evolution of equal intensity at another, since it diminishes the sum of resources distributed to the nervous system as a whole. hence, relatively to the amount of power left in the brain, the same exertion becomes very much more fatiguing, and may easily lead to exhaustion with all its consequences. nothing seems more simple than this proposition when thus stated. but all physiological problems are complicated by the element of quantity--circumstance which almost indefinitely limits our power of making absolute assertions. the comparison already made between the process of digestion and that of menstruation should suffice to show that there is no absolute incompatibility between the evolution of nerve force at the ganglionic centres and at the cerebro-spinal. for if so the process of digestion would necessitate such absolute torpor of the brain and spinal cord as certainly would be quite incompatible with the exigencies of civilized life. there is a certain alternation between the periods of activity of the two systems, but this varies in infinite gradation; from the digestive torpor of the savage, analogous to that of ruminating animals, up to the unconscious digestion of healthy men of temperate habits and marked intellectual and physical activity, to whom all hours of the day are nearly equally suitable for exertion. as previously said, up to a certain point, the incompatibility diminishes with every increase in the development of the cerebral system. but again, the evolution of nerve force required by ovulation should not normally be comparable in intensity with that effected in cerebral or spinal action. whenever it is so the activity of the ganglionic system must be in excess, or that of the cerebro-spinal system must be deficient. it is true that among the women of highly civilized societies, one or both of these conditions very frequently exist, but it is then as truly abnormal as is the dyspepsia and spleen--equally prevalent. although, for certain purposes, it is necessary to consider the ganglionic and cerebro-spinal system together, as parts of a single apparatus, it is important also to remember the boundaries that lie between them. it is much easier, by intense muscular exertion, that necessitates evolution of force in the spinal cord, to render the brain incapable of function, than to do so by intense action of the ganglionic nerves, whose connection with the brain, though real, is much less direct. were it not so, life would be much more precarious than it is, and advance in civilization impossible; because the necessarily incessant activity of the nerves involved in nutritive processes would too largely impair the action of the brain. the effect on the brain of a really irresistible and predominant activity of the nerves involved in the reproductive organs, is to be studied in the lower animals, and in phenomena that, fortunately, are rarely to be observed in healthy individuals of the human race. still less can such confessedly morbid predominance be considered as a peculiar liability of the female sex in this race. a singular tendency exists in many quarters, and is strongly manifested in dr. clarke's book, to assume that considerations pertaining to sex and to the functions of reproduction exercise such an enormous influence upon one sex, and none at all upon the other. since the discovery in of the ovule or female reproductive cell, there can be no question of the complete physiological equivalence and analogy between the essential organs of reproduction in the two sexes. the period of their development, the influence of such development on the entire nutrition of the body, the irregularities of nutritive or of cerebro-spinal action, that may be caused by irregularities in such development, are also completely analogous. it is only the organ of gestation that is peculiar to the female--the organ of maternity--the function that, although resulting from sex, transcends sex and belongs to the race. in a double sense is the uterus secondary to the ovaries.[ ] for its physiological action, both in menstruation and in pregnancy, is the direct consequence of ovarian functions, and closely dependent upon them; and the period of its prominent activity does not come until after the action of the ovaries has been completely established; that is, the period of maternity is, or should be, consecutive to the period of adolescence, and the work of gestation only entered upon when the work of ovulation has long been thoroughly accomplished. the analogies have been much overstrained that exist between the menstrual epoch of an adolescent girl and the pregnancy of an adult woman. they are illustrations of a general physiological law that in some cases might be called a caprice of nature, in virtue of which the rudiments of a process that is to be effected at a future epoch are sketched out during an epoch already existing. the afflux of blood to the uterus during the rupture of the ovisac, cannot be shown to be useful by any effort of teleological physiologists. it predicts, however, the afflux that will be necessary at a future pregnancy, in precisely the same way as the growth of the lungs in the foetus predicts the future necessity for respiration, or the formation of ovules in the ovaries of the newborn girl, predicts the future necessity of a reproductive apparatus. but to impose on the girl the precautions necessary to the mother, is one way to enfeeble and prematurely age her. in the same way is the child enfeebled by premature considerations in regard to sex that do not yet exist, and the adult woman so often treated as old as soon as she has borne children, which should be a proof not of age, but of maturity. from the preceding considerations we may, we think, conclude: st. that unless the brain and spinal cord _had been already exhausted or on the point of exhaustion previous to the menstrual_ crisis, this alone would be insufficient to exhaust them. d. that the degree of exhaustion in the cerebro-spinal system, necessary to determine vaso-motor paralysis, is very great, and much transcends that likely to be induced by the mental exertion required in the ordinary curriculum of a girl's school. d. that therefore, when vaso-motor paralysis, as indicated by uterine hæmorrhage, has occurred apparently in consequence of such mental exertion, it is really due to some other conditions existing with this. of these we have already insisted upon two--sedentary position and deficiency of physical exercise. authors have less frequently analyzed the effects of another circumstance so often accompanying the intellectual exertions of school life, namely, the morbid emotional excitement that is incident either to the period of adolescence or to the injudicious educational _régime_. to precisely appreciate these effects, it will be necessary to push a little further the analysis already commenced, of the mode of activity exhibited by different portions of the brain during the evolution of thought or of emotion. among all the obscurities that overhang this subject, a few facts are, nevertheless, demonstrated. the first that concerns us is the existence of the vaso-motor centre, whose situation and functions have been already described. the second is the localization of the function of thought in the circumvolutions of gray matter on the surface of the cerebral hemispheres--fact that we have already assumed to be sufficiently demonstrated. the third class of facts include those, also insisted upon, that indicate a peculiar influence of the emotions upon the circulation and the vaso-motor nerves. in some cases these are stimulated, and the blood-vessels spasmodically contract, the cheek pales, the hands and feet grow cold, chills creep down the back--even nausea may occur from interference with the circulation of the brain; or else the cheek flushes, the temples throb, the heart beats more rapidly, when, from temporary paralysis of these same nerves, the blood-vessels are suddenly dilated. these phenomena indicate that either the anatomical seat or the mode of generation of emotion, is in closer connection with the cerebral vaso-motor centre than is the seat of ideas. from this positive stand-point we may be permitted to cautiously venture a little further, in the direction of a theory for the precise localization of the organs of emotion. it is well known that at the base of the brain are collected certain masses of nervous matter, that constitute nervous centres or cerebral ganglia, that are in very intimate connection, on the one hand, with nerves of special sense, as the optic[ ] and olfactory,[ ] on the other with nerves of general sensation and motion.[ ] to this intricate part of the brain, these centres, converge the nerve-fibres collected in the spinal cord and medulla oblongata, and from them radiate other fibres that pursue a divergent course, and finally terminate in the gray matter of the cerebral hemispheres. thus, the brute impressions brought from the periphery of the body, are conveyed to special foci of concentration, thence to be transmitted to the gray matter at the surface of the brain, and become material for thought. conversely, impulses generated in the nerve-cells devoted to the elaboration of thought, pass through these same intermediate stations before they acquire sufficient consistency to affect the motor-nerves, and, through them, the muscular osseous apparatus of the body. before a sensory impression can become a thought, or a voluntary impulse express itself by motion, each must be converged toward these centres, whence it afterwards radiates, along divergent fibres, directed now above, to the surface of the brain, now below, on a longer course, to the surface of the body. luys has suggested, therefore, that these intermediate stations of cerebral organs constitute peculiar centres in which crude nervous impressions sustain a primary elaboration before passing to the surface of the brain. further, that the generation of emotions, which differs in so many respects from that of ideas, is especially connected with these centres as distinguished from the cerebral hemispheres lying above them. this idea is based on the following facts: st. the nervous masses in question are well developed in animals in whom the cerebral hemispheres, or organs of intellection, are comparatively rudimentary; and in these same animals, while little or no capacity for abstract reasoning exists, the instincts and feelings attain individuality and intensity. d. the emotions stand in much closer relation to sensation and movement, than do the operations of thought. the latter, indeed, necessitate immobility, and, if sufficiently intense, diminish the power of sensation; they seem to indicate a concentration of nervous action upon organs unconnected with motility or sensibility. on the contrary, movements of some kind are the first result of emotions, of which each is expressed by a characteristic gesture, and these increase in violence with the intensity of the feeling. a powerful emotion, as well as an absorbing thought, may, it is true, annihilate or transform sensation; but this is explicable by the fact that the strongest emotions are excited by ideas. hence, on the hypothesis, the impression radiating downwards to the emotional centres from the cerebral hemispheres, would counteract a sensory impression radiating upwards from them, by a literal interference analogous to that observed in opposing waves of sound. but as the direction of the impression generating emotion coincides with that of the motor impulses, the latter would not be counteracted, but reinforced. d. conversely, sensations of various kinds, transmitted to these centres from different parts of the body, are as effective as ideas in generating or modifying emotional conditions--often, indeed, much more so. the hypochondria of the ancients, the dyspeptic melancholia of the moderns, the infinite varieties of hysterical sensibility, are all well-known illustrations of this undisputed fact. the elastic consciousness of well-being that emboldens the volition of certain individuals, as distinguished from the timid apprehensiveness that constantly depresses the powers of others, is connected, not with any view of external conditions appreciable by the intellect, but with a vast multitude of vague bodily sensations, of which each alone fails to make a distinct impression upon consciousness. th. an impression made on one part of the sympathetic system is easily communicated to another, and to the ganglionic masses of the visceral plexuses, already described. hence the rapid effect of many emotions upon the processes of digestion; hence the epigastric response to the emotion of fear, which led bichat to localize this feeling in the solar plexus lying behind the stomach. in a precisely similar manner may the effect of emotion be distributed to the ganglionic nerves of the kidneys, uterus, and ovaries, leading to the flow of urine that terminates a paroxysm of hysteria, often suppressing menstruation, by contraction of uterine blood vessels, or causing an excess of menstrual hæmorrhage, from an excessive excitement of the ovarian nerves during the menstrual crisis. none of these effects are observed after a simple act of thinking, unattended by emotion. th. probably on account of such an influence upon the vaso-motor nerves, the blood vessels, and, consequently, the processes of nutrition, the evolution of emotions is attended with much greater fatigue than is that of thought. the fatigue that may follow a prolonged intellectual operation is, moreover, distinctly localized in the head, and exists in various degrees, from simple inability for further attention, to decided sensation of weariness, or even pain. but the fatigue experienced after excessive emotion, especially if this be of a depressing character and accompanied by tears (which imply vaso-motor paralysis in the lachrymal glands), is generalized all over the body, and is, moreover, very much more often followed by headache, or by symptoms of cerebral congestion or anemia, than is the act of thinking, except in persons morbidly predisposed. when nervous exhaustion is observed after prolonged mental effort, one of two other conditions, or both, has nearly always co-existed, namely, deficiency of physical exercise, or presence of active emotion, as, ardent ambitions or harassing anxieties. in a few cases, the mental effort itself, by the afflux of blood determined to the brain, or the excessive activity imposed upon its elements, becomes an efficient cause of disease. but in these cases there is either an original imperfection in the organization of the nerve tissues, or the mental effort has been of that exceptionally intense nature of which none but a few minds are capable. finally, in these cases, the resulting disease is seated in the brain or spinal column. this latter remark is of great importance for our purpose; for it tends to show that diseases produced elsewhere within the range of the ganglionic system of nerves--as the menstrual hæmorrhage, that we are especially considering--must be due to some other nervous act than that of thought. from the foregoing considerations, we believe, may be again inferred, first, that the radical difference which exists between the cerebral operations that result in thought, and those that accompany the evolution of emotion, probably depends upon the fact, that in the former central nervous action remains more or less localized on the surface of the cerebral hemispheres, while, in the latter, the great ganglia lying at the base of the brain, and hence nearer the vaso-motor centre, are called into play; second, that the effects of such action are more rapidly generalized throughout the nervous system, and, by causing the dilatation of the blood-vessels in the manner described, exhaust the central nervous system in a twofold manner, by a disturbance of its circulation, and by a direct depression of its nutrition, when the modifications of the circulation exaggerate the nutrition elsewhere. repeated excitement and consecutive paralysis of the vaso-motor nerves, therefore, serve as the most efficient means of draining off the force of the cerebro-spinal nervous system. and it has been seen, that a depression of its power is followed by an exaggerated and irregular activity of the ganglionic system, to which are due most of the phenomena observed in hysteria and in ordinarily nervous women. these are in many respects different from those observed in men suffering from so-called nervous debility, for the reason, that in them the ganglionic system of nerves is less prominent, and its irregularities of action therefore less marked, when the control exercised by the cerebro-spinal system has been diminished. if the vaso-motor centre of the brain is only influenced when the ganglia at the base are called into activity, and if their activity coincides with emotion, and not with thought, whose organ is much more remote, in the cerebral hemispheres, it should follow that emotion, and not thought, should most easily influence the vaso-motor centre, and be followed by peculiar modifications of the ganglionic system and of the circulation. this supposition is confirmed by the occurrence of many vaso-motor phenomena that commonly follow emotion, but are rarely observed after even prolonged thought. it is not, therefore, stimulation of the intellect, but excitement of the feelings, that can be shown from physiological data to have an injurious effect upon the vaso-motor nerves of the uterus, or the ganglionic nerves of the ovaries, or, in other words, can be concerned in the production of uterine hæmorrhage. to be just, however, it must be admitted, that still another view is possible. for it might be affirmed: first, that in women communication of impressions between different parts of the nervous system was so rapid, that the limitation of activity to a particular part of the brain was impossible; in other words, that the distinction between thought and emotion was effaced, because any action set up at the surface of the cerebral hemispheres, invariably called the emotional centres into play; or, second, it might be said, that the original organization of the cerebral tissues in women was so imperfect, that a slight amount of activity was sufficient to exhaust them, and hence become a cause of hæmorrhage by the mechanism previously described. neither of these assertions is made by dr. clarke, but it is certain that one or both of them might be made in regard to a large number of women. to these, however, severe intellectual exertion would be injurious, not only if performed during the week of menstruation, but if performed at all. nervous excitement during the inter-menstrual period, is quite as likely to be followed by pain or excessive hæmorrhage at the next menstruation, as if it had been sustained at the critical epoch itself. nature generally provides for a portion of this contingency, by rendering such women little capable of mental exertion, and little ambitious for it. but, though they be kept in the most complete intellectual quiescence, the condition of these unfortunates is scarcely improved. withdrawn from the serene and powerful movement of intellectual life, they are left to all the agitations of their ganglionic nerves; impressions, unfelt by others, raise storms of feeling in them, that actually ravage their nervous system; efforts that but slightly fatigue stronger organizations, are completely exhausting to theirs; health, indeed, is only possible to them while they may be sheltered from exposure, saved from exertion, and carefully screened from excitement and shock. the method, therefore, suggested by dr. clarke for enabling young girls to master latin and greek without sacrifice of their health, seems to us to be addressed to the wrong element in the group of supposed causes. in the cases related by dr. clarke, there is nothing to show that the menorrhagia was occasioned by study during the week of menstruation, rather than during the three weeks that preceded it. nor that even then, the true cause of disease was to be found in the intellectual exertion of mastering the school text-books, rather than in the moral excitement due to competition, haste, and cramming, or the close confinement necessitated by prolonged school hours, and unhealthy sedentary habits out of school. the complexity of causation in such instances may be well illustrated by the following case, that i select on account of its great resemblance to the type described by dr. clarke. a young girl of sixteen consulted me on account of menstrual hæmorrhage so excessive as to induce complete exhaustion, bordering upon syncope. she had menstruated for two years--during the first, in quite a normal manner--but during the second, had become subject to these menorrhagic accidents, since residence at boarding-school. it would have been easy to decide that the disturbance was directly due to the severity of the mental efforts exacted by the _régime_ of the school. but on further inquiry it appeared: first, that the mother of the girl had always been subject to menorrhagia, and it is well known that this often occurs exclusively as the result of hereditary predisposition. second, that just before the entrance to school, and the disturbance of menstruation, the girl had been living in a malarial district, and had suffered from malarial infection, which is again a frequent cause of menorrhagia. third, that the studies pursued at school were unusually rudimentary for a girl of sixteen, and indeed, below the natural capacity of her intelligence, had this been properly trained. but the hours of study were so ill-arranged, that the pupils were kept over their books, or at the piano, nearly all day, and even in the intervals allowed for recreation, no exercise was enforced. it was therefore frequently neglected, and the girl, with hereditary predisposition to menorrhagia, increased by malarial infection, and also by certain rheumatic tendencies, was allowed to expend upon elementary text-books an amount of time, attention, and nervous energy, that would have been deemed excessive for the most valuable intellectual pursuits. all physicians are aware of the frequent dependence of menorrhagia upon anemia, not only acquired, but congenital. the existence of anemia, or of an imperfect elaboration of the blood and vascular system, previous to the occurrence of the first menstruation, is a possible condition of menstrual disorder that must always be very carefully eliminated before any other cause be assigned. it is, moreover, extremely frequent. others exist, but are more rare--as peculiar congenital predisposition to hæmorrhages, with or without true hemophilia[ ]. with such causes (anemia, rheumatism, malarial infection, hereditary predisposition), the observance of rest during the menstrual week would be quite ineffectual so long as the _régime_ of the other three weeks remain uselessly unhygienic. if the menstrual crisis finds the uterine blood-vessels already deprived of tonicity through nervous exhaustion or other cause, hæmorrhage is as likely to occur as if that tonicity were only exhausted at the epoch of menstruation. in the cases described by dr. clarke, the cure was effected, when at all, not by an intermittence of study, which does not seem to have been tried, but by its complete cessation, together with that of all the conditions by which it was accompanied. again, therefore, it may be said, that wherever such intermittence is not superfluous, it would be inadequate for the purpose for which it is designed. but this conclusion may seem to be much more severe, and, to those interested in the education of girls, much more disagreeable than that formulated by dr. clarke. we firmly believe, however, that truth never can be disagreeable when it is really understood in all its bearings and all its consequences, and conversely, that any proposition framed with a view to supposed desirableness rather than veracity, is almost certain to lead in the end to consequences quite undesirable. we will not, therefore, try to decide whether it may be more agreeable to believe that the health of adolescent girls requires general and permanent supervision, or that all responsibility may be discharged by confining them to a sofa and a novel for one week out of every four; to believe that a certain number of women, as of men, are always unfit for intellectual exertion, or that all women are inevitably rendered so unfit during one quarter of their lives at times unknown to outsiders, and which, therefore, may be at any time; to believe that the increased delicacy of women in civilized societies depends on a cultivated predominance of their ganglionic nervous system and emotional functions, or on the excessive stimulus of the cerebro-spinal system and on intellectual cultivation. more useful than such discussion is the consideration of the methods that might be proposed, instead of that suggested by dr. clarke in the third proposition we have formulated from his book. dr. clarke's method is to provide regular intermittences in the education of girls, "conceding to nature her moderate but inexorable demand for rest, during one week out of four." the method that we believe to be suggested by the foregoing considerations would be more complex, but, we think, at once more effectual and less inconvenient. it may be stated in the following formula: "secure the predominance of the cerebro-spinal system over the activity of the ganglionic." since the activity of the cerebro-spinal system may be roughly[ ] divided into a twofold direction, intellectual and muscular, this predominance is to be secured by assiduous cultivation of the intellect as compared with the emotions, and of the muscles of the limbs as compared with the muscular fibre of the blood-vessels. in other words, the evil effects of school competition, and of the emotional excitement natural to adolescence, are to be combated by a larger, wider, slower, and more complete intellectual education than at present falls to the lot of either boys or girls. and the dangers incident to the development of new activity in the ganglionic nervous system by the functions of the ovaries, the dangers of irregular circulation, vaso-motor spasm and paralysis, are to be averted by systematic physical exercise, that shall stimulate the spinal nerves, quicken the external circulation, and favor the development of muscles at the moment that their activity threatens to be overpowered. the effect of systematic training on the spinal nervous system, and on the bones and muscles dependent upon it, has been often enough described. far less attention has been given to the equally positive development that can be secured for the brain, under the influence of prolonged and systematic exercise of its functions. an immense increase of functional capacity is possible, even without marked anatomical alteration; but even this is observed under circumstances that seem to indicate that it is rather the effect than the cause of changes in function. retzius (muller's archives, , p. [ ]) observes that the female cranium varies in size much more than the male: "female crania of the higher and middle classes are in general much smaller relatively than is the case among the peasants, a fact which probably depends on the different mode of life and occupation. the skull of the norway female peasants is as large and strong as that of the men." welcker himself makes a somewhat analogous observation in regard to the crania of different races, the differences between the sexes being more marked in proportion to the civilization of the race--that is, to the degree of specialization of education, and mental occupation. he gives the following table: cranial capacity. woman. man. asiatic caucasian . . european . . mongols . . malays . . americans . . negroes . . besides the prominent fact upon which welcker insists, this table indicates two others. first, that the anatomical difference in the higher races is too little to explain the general difference in intellectual achievement really observed between the two sexes of these races. second, that the difference is not in precise proportion to the maximum intelligence attained by the race, but to the social inferiority and subjection of the women; for the asiatics (hindoos) stand highest on the scale, the europeans only second; and the excess of the first over the second, in regard to the point in question, is greater than the excess of the europeans over the other races named. the general fact that, beyond certain well-defined limits, the activity of the cerebro-spinal system and its relative predominance over the ganglionic, is to be determined dynamically rather than anatomically, is insisted upon by laycock (_med. times and gaz._, ). this writer observes that the large, slowly-nourished brain of a lymphatic man, frequently evolves much less intellectual force than does the smaller, perhaps more compact, brain of another, in whom the circulation is more active, and the nutrition probably more elaborate. these facts, and many others that might be quoted, are pertinent to our subject, on account of the influence exercised over the ganglionic centres by the development and functional activity of those of thought. stimulation of the cerebral hemispheres is one of the most powerful means of counteracting paralysis of the vaso-motor centre, with all its consequences. habitual activity of these centres--implying, psychologically, habitual activity of thought, physiologically, a more active local circulation--is therefore the best method at our disposal for permanently counteracting tendencies to irregular action in this centre, in the emotional ganglia lying in its vicinity, and in the vaso-motor nerves dependent upon it. a method of such general supervision does not in itself forbid the co-education of girls and boys; for from this more general point of view, the health of the latter during adolescence really requires precisely the same precautions as that of the former. attention is less frequently drawn to the precautions required in the case of boys, mainly because such precautions are more frequently observed in regard to them. but besides, girls arrive at the period of adolescence already enervated by the senseless training of their childhood, on which distinctions of sex have been obtruded long before they are established by nature. finally, since peculiarities relating to the sexual organs are inherited, if at all, from the parent of the same sex,[ ] the germs of uterine diseases acquired by mothers too frequently exist in daughters, ready to be developed at the earliest opportunity. as a matter of fact, therefore, the existing generation of girls, especially in new england, too often possess a delicacy of organization greater than that of their brothers, and demanding a special supervision and watchfulness, best bestowed when they are educated apart. for the reasons already detailed at length, we think that such supervision does not necessitate periodical intermittence of study, except in special cases, that constitute a decided minority among the whole. it does necessitate, however, the more difficult task of providing for adequate rest and exercise during every day of the month. it necessitates a more rational system of study, a more profound training, a more intelligent view of the real character of intellectual life, and of the exercises required to develop it. it necessitates a concentration of intellectual effort into four or six hours out of the twenty-four, instead of a useless diffusion of intellectual peddling over ten or twelve. it necessitates an extension of the term of years allowed for education, and the giving up the fashionable notion that a girl is to be "finished" at seventeen or eighteen, while her brother continues to pursue his studies until twenty-two or twenty-five. it necessitates, finally, the most careful individual adjustment to each different case; and to all its peculiarities, mental, moral, and physical--quite as frequently, therefore, necessitates the education of girls apart from one another as apart from boys. but this necessity is not permanent. dr. clarke himself admits that if the one precaution upon which he insists be observed during the first years of adolescence, it will become unnecessary when the constitution is formed. but neither dr. clarke nor his reviewers seem to see that this admission annihilates the only objection made by him to the co-education of the sexes. for that is especially demanded as the only means by which women may be enabled to enjoy a technically superior education, as distinguished from the primary and secondary, and such education does not begin until eighteen. a university education is too expensive to be duplicated in any state; it moreover represents the collective intellectual force of society, and as such cannot rationally be cut in two. indeed, as such, cannot logically exclude women from men's schools, which are thereby left as imperfect and incomplete as would be the new universities to be constructed exclusively for women. during the neutral period of childhood, girls and boys should be educated together, because, as sex does not, properly speaking, exist, it is absurd to base any distinctions upon it, and the attempt, like all absurdities, is liable to lead to really disastrous consequences. during the period of adolescence or of the formation of sex, it is well to establish a separate education, during which the character of each may be defined and consolidated. this separation is needed by the moral and the physical training rather than by the intellectual. were it, as is usually assumed, necessary for boys to exercise and for girls to sit still, the need of separation would be much less than it is, for the boys could be sent to the gymnasium while the girls remained in the school room. but systematic exercise is even more necessary for the latter than for the former, because they are likely to take it spontaneously. these exercises must differ in kind and in intensity from those performed by boys, and for this and other reasons, are best pursued alone. the moral differentiation of the sexes requires separate education, for analogous reasons. moral differences, though less marked than physical, are more so than intellectual, and any system of education that might be supposed to efface these, would be an injury to society, that requires, not uniformity, but increasing complexity, by means of increasing variety of character among its members. thus the education of adolescent girls should include certain training in the care of children, and other duties that either permanently, or for the time being, must fall to them and not to boys. but a more important moral reason for separate education consists in the desirability of prolonging as late as possible, the first unconsciousness of sex. at this age the stimulus derived from co-education, acting upon imperfect organizations, is liable to be other than intellectual--liable to excite emotions equally ridiculous and painful from their pre-maturity, and therefore to increase the very danger most to be averted from this period of life--the excessive development of the emotional functions and organs of the nervous system. but, by the age of eighteen, the reasons against the co-education of the sexes have ceased to exist, and imperative reasons in its favor have come into play. the first we have already indicated. unless the education of girls be continued beyond the conventional retiring-point of eighteen, and unless they be permitted access to the state universities, they cannot participate in the highest intellectual education of the race. this cannot be carried on by private teachers, in isolated classes, under uncontrolled authorities. it must be public, national, supreme--for it represents the collective intellectual force of the nation; it is the work of society, and fits for society; and the social influences presiding over its instruction are as important as is the technical knowledge conveyed in its system. only the best minds should be employed in its service, and in any state these are not sufficiently numerous for the wants of indefinitely multiplied schools. but, further, if girls may be educated, and better educated, apart from boys, it is scarcely possible to give women an intellectual training apart from men, certainly in the present generation. what may be lost to men by exclusion from the intellectual companionship of women, may perhaps be beyond the scope of our present subject to inquire. but the loss sustained by women, who, shut up in female academies, attempt, or pretend to make the attempt, to obtain a "college education," is conspicuous beyond possibility of cavil. the same peculiarities that render women, as a rule, less original, are justly said to make them more receptive, more malleable, more exquisitely adjustable to the least variation of external circumstance, or difference in the intellectual calibre of their associates or masters. their own intellects are quickened to activity or repressed into torpor, by influences that would have little effect upon the less impressionable, more self-poised minds of men. these facts, upon which great emphasis has often been laid, should only lead to one inference, namely, that the education and intellectual capacity of women is likely to remain at the point, or advance to the degree at which men may consider it desirable for it to exist; if, therefore, certain conditions are seen to favor this advancement to an extraordinary degree, and others to retard it in a manner as extraordinary; if, in addition to results already achieved by the increased education of women, others far greater may be foreseen, when that education shall have become really equal to that now accessible to men; it becomes imperative to concede the conditions in question, unless some equally imperative counter indication can be shown to exist. reasons of an entirely different order exist, we think, in the fact that at this age the sexes naturally seek each other's society, as much as they avoided it before. it is difficult to see why this tendency requires to be counteracted, except on some monastic principle that is an unconscious "survival" from the middle ages. thwarting this tendency leads often to immorality in the one sex--to languor, and mental, moral, and physical debility in the other. dr. clarke places his counter indication almost exclusively in the supposed necessity for a periodical intermittence in the intellectual work of women, that could not, therefore, be brought into harmony with that of men. but, as we have seen, dr. clarke himself admits that such necessity is scarcely imperative except under the age of eighteen or nineteen, and the period of study for which co-education is really desirable, indeed, necessary, does not begin until that age. moreover, dr. clarke draws his examples, not from students who have been educated at mixed schools, but from those who have attended ordinary girls' boarding-schools; so that no proof is adduced of any special influence of co-education, unless the general statement that "co-education is intellectually a success, physically a failure," can be considered as such proof, which we do not believe. since, according to dr. clarke's own argument, the argument does not apply to the particular point of controversy upon which it has been made to bear with most force, it is superfluous to return to our own reasonings, whereby we believe to have shown that the dangers signalized, though they exist, menace the minority and not the majority; that they are then attributable, not to mental exertion, but to the coincidences of mental exertion as at present conducted; that they are to be averted, not by a single manoeuvre, but by a general system of training, that should include, instead of excluding, special attention to intellectual development; that the results of such training would remain, after the consolidation of the physical health and the termination of the period of growth had rendered further training unnecessary; whereas, the peculiar precaution suggested by dr. clarke, would rather tend to create a habit of body that would persist throughout life, to immense inconvenience. mary putnam jacobi. west thirty-fourth street, new york. footnotes: [ ] the development of reproductive cells in special glandular apparatus at the period of puberty, is evidently not peculiar to one sex, but is a physiological fact necessarily common to both. the peculiarity in the female consists in the _greater degree_ of periodicity in the complete development of such cells, in the periodical congestions of a secondary organ, the uterus, and in the loss of blood effected by these. [ ] thus herbert spencer remarks that the mental development of women must be arrested earlier than that of men, in order to leave a margin for reproduction. [ ] absence of menstruation. [ ] excessive menstrual hemorrhage. [ ] i use the term efficient in a technical sense, as meaning all-sufficient to produce the given effect, without the intervention of any other cause. [ ] "menorrhagic chlorosis" of trousseau. [ ] for it is known that vaso-motor paralysis is not of itself sufficient to induce hæmorrhage, unless the tension of the blood-current be coincidently raised. see bouchard, _pathogenie des hæmorrhagies_. [ ] the "uterine epistaxis" of malignant fevers are evidently foreign to our subject, as also the hæmorrhages of subinvolution, or of the menopause. the hæmorrhages from anemia are, on the other hand, so frequent, as to explain the majority of such cases as dr. clarke's. [ ] meadows observes: "it is not the ovary which is an appendix to the uterus, but the uterus which is an appendix to the ovary." [ ] corpora quadrigemina. [ ] corpora striata. [ ] thalami optici and corpora striata. [ ] hereditary disease, dependent on an imperfect development of blood vessels, and characterized by a remarkable tendency to bleed from any blood-vessel that accident may have opened. this disease is nearly confined to men, but the women in the same families often suffer from profuse menstruation. [ ] for we purposely leave out of sight innumerable facts in regard to its influence on nutrition, temperature, etc. [ ] quoted by welcker, _untersuchungen über den wachsthuum und bau des menschlichen schädels_. halle, . [ ] lucas. traité de l'hérédité. university of michigan. "recognizing the equality of both sexes to the highest educational advantages," for four years the doors of the university of michigan have been "open to all students." "the university is organized in three departments, as follows: the department of literature, science, and the arts; the department of medicine and surgery; the department of law. each department has its faculty of instruction, who are charged with its special management." eager to avail themselves of the advantages here offered in such a "broad, generous, and hospitable spirit," a number of women from different parts of the country have matriculated, and are or have been pursuing studies in common with students of the other sex. during the four years three women have graduated from the literary department, four from the law, and twenty-one from the medical. at the present time there are in the first department above mentioned, fifty women; in the second, five; and in the third, thirty-eight. of those in the law and medical departments i can say comparatively little. the general impression is, that they have endured the work quite as well as the men; and it is a fact, that a number of the women who entered the medical department, with four lectures per day to attend, and all the work of the laboratory and dissecting-room to perform, have steadily improved in health from the time of entering until leaving; while those who were well at the beginning of their college work, have in no case suffered a deterioration of health from their intellectual labor. one of these women, miss emma call, of boston, graduated last year, the first in her class. thus far the women-graduates from this department have generally taken positions in their profession which they are filling with usefulness, if not with honor; and in which, as far as powers of endurance are concerned, they are showing themselves able to compete with male physicians. there seems to be an impression prevalent among them--and perhaps it is not peculiar to their sex alone--that the physician should be the physiological educator as well as the healer of the race, that his or her duty is to teach people how to use the "ounce of prevention" as well as the "pound of cure," and that, through the mutual labors of the two sexes, more than in any other way, is to be brought about the long-desired, and much-needed, health reform. although it may yet be too early to form an estimate of the effect of this system of "identical co-education" upon the health of the women who have graduated from this university, we believe that there has been only one case of protracted illness, and there is no reason for asserting that this was caused by intellectual labor--at least, in this institution, since the lady was here only six months--having taken her previous course elsewhere--and is a graduate from the law department. of those who have graduated from the literary department, we have positive information that as yet they have suffered no "penalties" from their "severe and long-continued mental labor," and they were, on graduating, as well as on entering. one woman who matriculated with the present senior class, took the whole course in three years, went forth in better health than when she entered, and is at present the principal of the high school at mankato, minn., while another is still prosecuting her studies, and contemplates taking a course of law. in regard to those at present in the literary department, it is impossible to get at any statistics as to excused absences, which will show the average attendance of one sex as compared with that of the other, and from which inferences can be deduced in regard to the health of the women-students; for the university authorities--not having dreamed that there was a "new natural law" to be revealed, which should assert that the course of "identical co-education" is conducive to health and usefulness for the one sex, and to premature decay and the hospital or cemetery for the other--have not preserved the records of excused absences. the professors assert that non-attendance upon recitations, on account of ill-health, has been no greater on the part of the young women than of the young men, and that in many cases, the attendance of the former has been better than that of the latter; yet there is nothing, perhaps, except personal acquaintance and observation, which can reveal the true condition of the present health of the women of the literary department of michigan university, and the manner in which it has been affected by the intellectual labors they have undergone. in the present graduating class, there are eight women who have been, at all times during the college course, as well as an equal number of their classmates, or the same number of women in any pursuit in life. one of these, who is not only the 'picture of health,' but who is perfectly healthy, was only sixteen years of age when she entered. two other young women, who have ranked with the first of their class in scholarship, and who have been in excellent health during the entire course, with the exception of slight illnesses in their freshman year--not caused by study--who are now among the most healthy of their class, have, in addition to their college work, nearly defrayed their expenses by teaching during the vacations, by giving private instruction after study hours, and by working in various other ways. they have not, in this fourth year of almost double duty, any lurking disease which threatens to impair or to destroy their usefulness in the future, and they are as strong, ambitious, and happy as when they entered. one who entered the class in its sophomore year, and who intended to graduate with it, was obliged to withdraw on account of her health; but those who know her best cannot assert that this was caused, either directly or indirectly, by her intellectual labors, or that, under the same conditions, the same results would not have followed from any kind of work. she was, and had been for a long time before entering, in a very bad state of health, and was utterly unfit for study. thus far, the health record of the women of this class has compared favorably with that of the men, and there is, at the present time, no physiological reason why it should not thus continue even 'down to old age.' the class of ' had, on entering, eleven women. of these, one has died, an apparently healthy girl, who passed from us in the second year of her college life, shortly after her return in the autumn. we do not know the cause of her sickness, but we do know that it was not the result of overtaxed mental powers, since it occurred but a little while after the long vacation of the summer, and the disease was one which had carried off a number of members of the same family in former years, viz., typhoid fever, alike unsparing of age, sex, or condition. with this exception, this class has been remarkably healthy, and with but a slight exception is, at the present time, perfectly so. their attendance on recitations has been uniformly good, above the average of the classes, and they have done excellent work. of these, two were sixteen years of age on entering, one was twenty, and the others varied in ages between sixteen and twenty. concerning one of the former, president angell had some misgivings when she entered, as she did not seem to be very strong; but she is now in her third year in the university, and her mother informed the president not long since that the health of her daughter had improved since she came to ann arbor, and that the nervous headaches by which she had been formerly troubled had entirely disappeared. among those who matriculated with the class of ' , were seventeen young women, two of whom were in poor health at the time, and physically unfit for work. one was ill for some time last winter with rheumatism, and compelled to suspend her labors, and the other was obliged to leave college. the former is now teaching, and will probably return, and the other has resumed her studies, but is far from being well. one of the number, who is from the sandwich islands, was sick four weeks with inflammation of the lungs; but her brother, who is one year in advance of her, was also sick in his freshman year with the same disease, the only difference being that she was ill four weeks, and he, seven. as a class, the 'sophomore girls' are in even a better physical condition in the middle of this their second year, the hardest year of the course, than they were at the beginning of last year. one of them, with charming _naiveté_ asserts that she was 'miserable' when she entered, and her father sent her to the university to 'see if she wouldn't get well;' and she 'has been getting well ever since.' the average attendance of the young women of this class upon recitations, is also fully equal to that of the young men, judging from the stand-point of the professors; and in the classical sections it has been better. in the present freshman class, there are also seventeen young women, most of whom are under twenty years of age; as also are most of those of the other classes on entering. of those in this class there is little to be said, as they have been with us but a few months. they appear to be well and strong. many of them are graduates from the high schools of the state, and a large proportion from the ann arbor high school. in regard to his graduates, professor perry, the superintendent of schools in this city, gives the following statistics in regard to sixteen young men and nine young women who graduated last year: boys. girls. attendance . . . scholarship . . . it is a fact that thus far the women of michigan university have demonstrated a principle of dr. tappan's--a former president of the university--that brain-work is good for the health. if the seeds of future disease have been in some mysterious manner implanted in their systems, it is in no sense apparent except to the imaginations of those who are least acquainted with our girls. the points which i wish to establish are these: that their health has been as good as that of their classmates; that those who were in a proper condition on entering have in no respect suffered a deterioration of health from their intellectual work; that of those who were not in a proper condition for this or any other kind of work, and have been obliged to withdraw from college, there have been only two--a no larger per cent than the records of the young men would show; that although we have lost one by death, they have lost several; and that the ordinary brain-work required of the intelligent, ambitious students of michigan university, if they are prepared in all respects for it, is conducive to health. too much attention cannot be given to the importance of a thorough preparation. with it, students who were not especially strong, have gone on with constantly improving health; without it, even the strongest have felt that the burdens imposed by their studies were heavy--and this is true of one sex as well as of the other.[ ] i quote also from the editorial of the college paper, which is conducted entirely by the young men, to give the view from another stand-point, where, in speaking of "college girls," the writer says: "they pertinaciously keep their health and strength in a way that is aggravating, and they persist in evincing a capability for close and continued mental labor, which, to the ordinary estimator of woman's brain-power, seems like pure willfulness. they have, with a generally noticeable peculiarity, disappointed the most oracular prognostications." the general verdict of those outside the university is, that "the girls are holding out remarkably well." and perhaps it may be asked, "what are our habits of life?" possibly the best reply may be given in the words of hamerton, from _intellectual life_, where in speaking of kant, he says: "in his manner of living he did not consult custom, but the needs of his individual nature." thus is it here. our healthiest girls are those who have come from healthful homes, from wise and judicious parents, who, having instilled into their minds the true principles of right living, have not hesitated to send them forth to the university where the experiment of co-education is being tried, feeling that they would adapt everything to the needs of their individual natures, and they are showing themselves to be so doing. sometimes sisters come together, sometimes a brother and sister, and in a few instances the parents have come here to reside during the college course of their children. but the habits of the young women are generally regular. they indulge in little party-going, or dissipation; they have work to do, and to it they give their best strength. as a rule, they dress healthfully, are not ashamed to show that they can take a long breath without causing stitches to rip, or hooks to fly; they do not disdain dresses that are too short for street-sweeping; they have learned that the shoulders are better for sustaining the heavy skirts than the hips, and they are finding that, especially in this climate, healthful though it is, one must be prepared with suitable clothing for all the exigencies of the weather. their study-life is quiet and happy. their rooms are in private houses, usually rented in suites of two, with plenty of light and ventilation, and with bright, pleasant furniture. the people with whom they live are very kind, and take a great interest in the young strangers who come among them. they board either with the family, or in clubs,--as most of the young men do, and with them; and somehow there is among them little of that false appetite for indigestible food, usually so prevalent among young women who are at a boarding-school, or living away from home. there are no regularly prescribed study-hours, and there is no regularly prescribed exercise. most of the young women have rooms some distance from university hall, to which they are generally obliged to go two or three times a day, so that they, of necessity, have considerable walking--in which some of those here have shown remarkable powers of strength and endurance. in fact, there is nothing prescribed for the student, except lessons; the only authority which the university assumes is intellectual authority, and nothing is compulsory except attendance upon recitations, and a proper attention to the prescribed work. perhaps the principal cause for the good health of the young women, and their ability to endure the work they have entered upon, is the fact that they have an aim in life beyond the mere fact of graduating from a great university; they believe that there is a future before them, in which they are to do a woman's work, in a manner all the nobler and better for the advantages of this higher education, and as they advance toward its opening portals, the step becomes firmer, the form more erect, the eye more radiant; they believe, also, that the divine call has come for woman to be something more than the clinging vine, or the nodding lily; that delicacy is a word of mockery when applied to health, a word of beauty when applied to cultivated perceptions, and refined tastes. they enjoy their work; they have the confidence of their professors, the esteem of their classmates, and the love of one another. their work is to them more attractive than the charms of society; their greek and latin more entertaining than the modern novel; their mathematics no more intricate than the fancy-work which used to be considered one of the necessary things in a woman's education; and most of them have minds of their own, with a good supply of common sense. but perhaps, after all, little can be inferred for the future from the result of four years of co-education in michigan university, from the intellectual and moral standing of the women who are at the present time students here, or from their physical well-being. we do not assert that there can be; we do not draw inferences, we present facts. we are fully aware that the problem of co-education is in the first stages of its solution; that it will require at least a generation to solve it fully; that faith is not fruition, nor belief, certainty in this experiment, any more than in any other; that while the women who are here at the present time are earnest, conscientious, and high-minded, those who come after them may be far different; and that even those who go forth in these first years may break down at the first stroke of future work, even as some of their brothers have done; but we do assert that, as far as michigan university is concerned, educating a girl in a boy's way has thus far been proven to be better than any girl's way yet discovered, and there has appeared no reason why the good effects should not continue. we are sometimes made to feel, in a manner intended to be humiliating, that we are trespassing upon ground foreign to our natures, in thus seeking the higher education in a domain which has hitherto belonged, almost exclusively, to man--but in all cases this has been done by those outside of our university; and while we know that they who thus speak and write are those who consider themselves the best friends to woman in the spheres to which they would limit her, we also know that all true friends of progress are friends to the highest culture of man or woman. we know, too, that for the manner in which we obey the dictates of our natures, implanted there by 'one who is mightier than we are,' we alone are accountable. we know the barriers, real and fancied, which are supposed to stand in the way; the arduous toil upon which we enter, the responsibilities which we assume; but for all this, the woman of michigan university goes forth brave, earnest, and loyal to the dictates of duty; she expects to do work in life as a woman whose womanliness has been but intensified and glorified by these four years of co-education; whose health shall be all that nature intended it should be, and who will, in the truest sense possible, strive "to make the world within her reach somewhat the better for her living, and gladder for her human speech." sarah dix hamlin. class of ' , university of michigan. footnotes: [ ] see president angell's testimony in the appendix. mount holyoke. the mount holyoke female seminary was opened in . during the thirty-six years ending july , , it has graduated one thousand four hundred and fifty-five young women.[ ] its founder aimed to provide a permanent institution, where the best advantages should be offered at a moderate expense, and whose entire culture should tend to produce, not only thorough students and skilful teachers, but earnest, efficient, christian women. accordingly, its course of study has always given prominence to the solid rather than to the showy, omitting mostly what are termed ornamental branches, and devoting the more time to studies which give mental discipline. there is no preparatory department. in order to enter, pupils are required to pass examination in english grammar and analysis, modern geography, history of the united states, mental and written arithmetic, elementary algebra, physical geography, latin grammar and latin reader. the course of study was originally arranged for three years, but since requires four. no pupils are received under sixteen years of age, and none are admitted to the senior class under eighteen, while the majority are considerably older. the age at the time of graduating averages something over twenty-one years. none are received as day-scholars. the amount of intellectual labor required is about six hours a day; that is, two recitations of forty-five minutes each, and four hours and a half spent in study. as a rule, only two studies are pursued at a time. there are but four recitation days in the week, a fifth being devoted to composition and general business. the day of recreation is wednesday, an arrangement which is somewhat unusual, and might not be convenient for schools composed in part of day-scholars. here, however, the holiday interposed in the middle of the week serves to lessen the danger of too protracted application to study, and makes the last two recitation days as easy as the first. the health of the pupils is under the care of the lady physician residing in the family. she is assisted by a teacher who superintends the diet and nursing of invalids. besides the frequent suggestions in regard to the care of health, which the principal addresses to the school, special instructions are given by the physician to her classes in physiology. the pupils are particularly cautioned against exposure of health by insufficient protection of the person from cold or dampness, by running up or down stairs, or by sleeping in unventilated rooms. all are required to retire before ten p.m., and advised to choose an earlier hour as far as practicable. daily out-door exercise, for at least half an hour, is required, except when inclement weather or ill-health may prevent. light gymnastics are practised by all except individuals who have been permanently excused by the physician. all are directed, however, to abstain from gymnastics at certain periods, as well as from long walks, or severe physical exertion of any kind. it has not been found that regular and moderate study at such times is injurious to girls in ordinary health. the pupil is always excused from lessons if she finds herself unable to study, which of course may often be the case with those of delicate and excitable temperament, or unsound health. it is generally known that the ordinary house-work of the seminary family is performed by the young ladies, under the supervision of the teachers and matrons. but so many erroneous ideas have prevailed in regard to the amount of labor required of each pupil, that it seems necessary here to repeat explanations often given before. each young lady spends, upon an average, one hour a day in domestic work. the length of time varies a little, according to the kind of work; the more laborious or less agreeable tasks being proportionately shorter than the light and easy ones. the time occupied varies thus from forty-five to seventy minutes a day. on the sabbath, only about half an hour's work is required, while on wednesday an additional half hour is necessary. usually one keeps the same work for a term or more, unless some interference with recitations, or other personal reason, makes a change advisable. pupils are excused from their domestic work whenever their health requires it, the place being temporarily supplied from a sort of reserve corps, who have no regular places of their own. the benefit to the health, of having a little daily exercise in doing house-work, was one of several considerations in view of which this plan was originally adopted. this opinion is supported by long experience, and has also the sanction of high medical authority. dr. nathan allen of lowell remarks in his essay upon _physical_ _degeneracy_, page ; "no kind of exercise or work whatever is so well calculated to improve the constitution and health of females as domestic labor. by its lightness, repetition, and variety, it is peculiarly adapted to call into wholesome exercise all the muscles and organs of the body, producing an exuberance of health, vigor of frame, power of endurance, and elasticity of spirits; and to all these advantages are to be added the best possible domestic habits, and a sure and enduring foundation for the highest moral and intellectual culture." pupils often remark a decided improvement in their health under the combined influences of moderate and systematic mental labor, judicious exercise, both out of doors and within, and regular hours for eating and sleeping. it should not be forgotten, however, that among any three hundred girls, there will be many slight ailments in the course of a year, if not some cases of serious illness. being at best inexperienced, as well as excitable and impulsive, girls are liable to expose their health in a thousand ways, notwithstanding all that careful mothers or teachers can do. mere physical robustness is of far less account in carrying one through an extended course of study than prudence and good sense. many a girl possessing these traits, though naturally delicate, has not only completed the holyoke course with honor, but has found herself all the better able to meet the duties of more laborious years, on account of the systematic habits and practical efficiency acquired here. it is much better not to begin the course earlier than eighteen, on account of the greater maturity then to be expected, not only of the physical constitution, but also of the judgment, on which the preservation of health so largely depends. the following statistics show the comparative longevity of graduates from mount holyoke seminary, and from a number of colleges for young men. in each case they include a period of thirty years, closing generally with , or within a year or two of that date. they were originally compiled early in , and embraced all the classes which had then graduated at mount holyoke. the war mortality is excluded in every case where it was separately stated in the college triennial, as indicated below. graduated. deceased. rate per cent. mount holyoke seminary , . amherst , [ ] . bowdoin , [ ] . brown . dartmouth , . harvard , [ ] . williams , . yale , . the following table shows what percentage of the graduates of each decade had died at the close of the thirty years. mh = mt. holyoke. am = amherst. bo = bowdoin. br = brown. da = dartmouth. ha = harvard. wi = williams. ya = yale. mh. am. bo. br. da. ha. wi. ya. graduated in first decade deceased percentage . . . . . . . . graduated in second decade deceased [ ] percentage . . . . . . . . graduated in third decade , deceased [ ] [ ] [ ] percentage . . . . . . . . as these statistics were compiled immediately after the close of the period embraced, there must have been, in every case, some deaths not then ascertained, which subsequent triennials include. for example, the amherst triennial of makes the number graduated during the thirty years ending in , , ; deceased to that date, (besides deaths in the war); percentage of mortality, . . in like manner the record of mount holyoke, revised early in , makes the number of deaths during the above period , and the rate per cent . . this, however, does not materially affect the comparison, in regard to which it was remarked by dr. nathan allen, in the _congregationalist_ of june , , "this seminary shows a better record than all the colleges except williams." dr. edward hitchcock, of amherst, in the _springfield republican_ of may , , also says: "by these results we learn that it becomes those to be careful who state that all female schools are injurious to the health of their students. for here is one which, in attainments of scholarship, general discipline, and religious culture, has ranked among the highest, and yet its health-influence holds out better than in gentlemen's schools of kindred grade." a lady physician formerly connected with this seminary, speaking of customs of modern society which have impaired women's powers of endurance, remarks: "the most pernicious of these customs is certainly improper dress, viz., tight lacing, long and heavy skirts dragging from the hips, and the great weight of clothing upon the lower portion of the back; also, insufficient covering of the lower extremities." the present physician attributes perhaps the greater part of the ill-health from which young ladies suffer, to these errors in dress. another fruitful source of evil, for which parents are largely responsible, is the supplying of school-girls with quantities of rich pastry, cakes and sweetmeats, which are eaten, of course, between meals, and often just before going to bed. in one instance a young lady, previously in perfect health, in the course of two years made herself a confirmed dyspeptic, simply by indulging night after night in the indigestible dainties with which she was constantly supplied from home. this is her own view of the matter in looking back. the following words from the two lady physicians who have been longest connected with the seminary, give the results of their professional experience there: * * * * * extracts from the letter of dr. (belden) taylor, formerly physician at mt. holyoke seminary: "in regard to regular study producing pain, hæmorrhage or irregularity, i do not think these disturbances are caused so much by application to study as by want of care and prudence at the menstrual period, and of fresh air and exercise during the interval. * * * i think that labor, both mental and physical, should be diminished at the menstrual period, for at this time the ovaries and uterus are intensely engorged, and the nervous system is in an unusually excitable condition. do not understand me that girls should be excused from all physical labor, but only that they should not undertake unusually hard work, and should avoid long walks, giving themselves as much rest as possible. * * * i do not think, however, that any of these things should debar a woman from pursuing a regular course of study, only let her exercise care and prudence at the menstrual period. it is not uncommon for this function to be arrested by any great change of circumstances, as when a girl leaves home and goes to school, where there is almost an entire change of habits. many cases came under my observation while at the seminary, among the junior class (first year), of suppression or irregularity for three or six months, all then proceeding regularly without medical interference. i think women suffering from ordinary female troubles are benefited by regular exercise; for a want of proper exercise affects injuriously the general health, thereby increasing the uterine disorder. if a girl with any _great_ female trouble should enter the seminary, her troubles would be increased, not from the regular work, but by going over the stairs." letter from mrs. arnold, of milwaukee, formerly dr. homer, physician at mt. holyoke seminary in - : "a large number of cases of irregularity in the form of suppression, were always met with during the first year, especially the first months of that year. often the health was not seriously affected, and the trouble would right itself or readily yield to mild remedies. had this derangement been caused by hard study in the pursuance of a regular course, it would have been most common among pupils in advanced classes. the fact that it was not, shows that it must be accounted for in some other way. neither do we need to look far. there is change of circumstances, of employments, of diet, of sleep; often of climate, many coming from a distance, and, more than all, coming from quiet homes to dwell in such a large family, where there is enough of novelty and excitement to keep them constantly interested--perhaps i should say absorbed--in new directions. it is common for change to produce like results elsewhere, as well as in school life, especially during the early years of womanhood. again, those thus affected are quite as likely to be the dull or inattentive as the studious. "cases of excessive or painful menstruation were far less numerous, and had their origin also in other causes than hard study. "as to the effect of regular brain-work upon those already suffering from diseases peculiar to the sex, i do not recall any cases where the mere matter of intellectual labor had any effect to increase the trouble. other circumstances connected with school life might aggravate such complaints, _e.g._, much going over stairs, but a temperate application to study, even of the sterner kinds, by giving occupation to the mind, i consider highly beneficial. "the great cause of diseases incidental only to the female sex is to be found in want of sensible, intelligent thought, and an unwillingness to act in accordance with the convictions such thought would bring. the follies and frivolities of fashionable life slay their thousands where hard study slays its one. tight-lacing, i believe, was never more prevalent than at the present time, and its victims are a host. * * * this matter of dress, so difficult to be reformed, has a very large share in making women weak and helpless. "of course, it cannot be denied that many young women come out of school with broken health. do not young men also? the fact that so many girls are enfeebled by the course pursued with them from their very infancy, easily accounts for their broken health, without attributing it at all to study. it cannot but be apparent to any one, that a feeble, sickly girl or boy is unfit to attempt a severe course of study. again, girls are often in such a hurry to 'finish,' that they overdo, and suffer the consequences in after life. "it has long been my opinion that we are in danger of pushing the 'graded school system' too far. there should be more latitude allowed, more optional studies in all our schools. the question may be asked, does not this system bear equally upon boys and girls? if so, why do girls suffer more in health? i affirm, not because of the difference physically, but because the custom of society shuts the girl up in the house--to her books, if she is conscientious, and she is more likely to be so than her brother--while the boy is turned loose, to have just as good a time as if he were at the other end of his class. * * * when we attempt to compare the ability of the two sexes to endure the strain of continuous mental work, there are many circumstances to be considered, many things that are not as they should be. if women were trained from their infancy as they might be, and as they ought to be, there would be no need of arguing. but so long as the present fetters of fashion and custom are submitted to, the question will remain unsettled." such is the testimony from mt. holyoke. mary o. nutting. south hadley, mass. footnotes: [ ] according to the report of the commissioner of education for , packer institute had graduated six hundred and twenty-eight women, and canandaigua eight hundred. no other female institutions report more than six hundred, and only two others more than five hundred. [ ] exclusive of war mortality. [ ] exclusive of war mortality. oberlin college. dr clarke's experience and success as a physician give him a right to speak, and that with the tone of authority. he has spoken, and in such clear and unmistakable words that all must hear, the startling truth, that american women are sickly women; that proofs of this fact are not confined to any class or condition, but that "everywhere, on the luxurious couches of beacon street, in the palaces of fifth avenue, among the classes of our private, common, and normal schools, among the female graduates of our colleges, behind the counters of washington street, on broadway, in our factories, workshops and homes," pale, weak women are the rule, and not the exception. this is the one permanent impression which the book makes. it is for this reason that we are thankful. it matters not that the presenting of this fact was not the author's main object. it matters still less, that he failed in his object; for, if his theory had been a true theory, and he had succeeded in convincing the world of its truthfulness, he would have benefited but a small class of our american people. only a few women, comparatively, are found in our colleges and higher schools of learning. man often means one thing while god means another. luther meant to reform the roman church--god meant to reform the world. dr. clarke meant, as he tells us in his preface, to excite discussion, and stimulate investigation, with regard to the relation of sex to education; but he has excited a discussion, and stimulated an investigation, that, unless ephraim is wholly joined to his idols, will not stop until a reform has been wrought in our whole social system. not only in our colleges and universities, but in our lower grades of schools; and--as he has taught us that the head is not all, but the body a good deal--in our food, in our times of downsitting and uprising, in our hours of retiring, in the ventilation of our churches, public halls and private homes. we are at last to understand, what it is so hard for an american to understand, that to wait is sometimes as much a duty as to work. dr. clarke meant to prove, that co-education, in the popular signification of that term, for physiological reasons, is an impossibility. he succeeded, as he thinks, theoretically, but failed, as he confesses, practically, for the want of sufficient data. what he indirectly proved was of much more vital importance, because it affects the whole nation; that, for physiological reasons, american women, and consequently the american people, cannot live at this high-pressure rate, which means death. the universal interest which his book has awakened, the rapidly following reviews and criticisms, the numerous essays which have since been published, on the same and kindred subjects, show that thinking minds were already working their way to definite conclusions and expression on this now most important of all subjects--how to give back to the american woman the bloom and physical strength, the elasticity and fresh old age which are hers by the right of inheritance. no one will deny dr. clarke's statement, that, with the best of opportunities, she does not in these respects compare favorably with her trans-atlantic sisters. but we are not willing to admit that the strength of the german _fräulein_ and english damsel must be purchased at so great a sacrifice as the giving up of all systematic study, and consequently of all higher intellectual development. the "sacred number three," which we are told "dominates the human frame," dominates also the whole being. there is the physical, the moral, and the mental; and we are not to cast such a reflection upon the author of our being, as to suppose that the proper development of the one must be at the expense of the other. if god demands more of woman's physical nature than of man's, he has wisely provided for it, within that nature. faith in his benevolence leads us to this conclusion. it is just as true, that where much will be required, much has been given, as that where much has been given, much will be required. when woman learns the laws which govern her physical nature, and has the courage to live in accordance with those laws, it will be found that she has strength to be a woman, a christian and a scholar. it is just as true in her case as in man's, that proper brain activity stimulates physical activity. there are many sickly girls to be found in our schools, but they are often sickly when they come to us; often, too, under the seeming garb of health, the seeds of disease are already germinating, and it is time, not study, which brings them to the surface. when mothers are able to send us strong, healthy girls, with simple habits and unperverted tastes, we will return to them and the world strong, healthy women, fitted, physically and mentally, for woman's work. it is continuous education, not co-education, which dr. clarke really condemns; but every teacher knows that continuity of effort is essential to sound mental development, and that this off-and-on method, which he seems to recommend, would destroy all order in the school, and make all work in the class-room impossible. if, then, his theory--that for physiological reasons girls cannot endure continuous study--is the true theory, not only our colleges and universities ought to remain closed against women, but all our schools for girls over fourteen years of age ought to be closed also, and the pupils sent home, to receive such instruction as they can from private teachers, at such times as their bodies can afford to lend time to their heads. we say _ought_, and we mean what we say; for we are not "so professionally committed to a dangerous experiment" as to insist upon it, if once convinced that it is dangerous; neither are we "urgent reformers, who care less for human suffering and human life, than for the trial of a theory." dr. clarke believes, "if the causes which have brought about the present ill-health of american women continue for the next half century, and increase in the same ratio as they have for the last fifty years, that we shall cease to be an american people." we believe it, too; but we do not believe, as he does, that the chief causes of this ill-health are to be laid at the doors of our seminaries and colleges. we believe that more girls are benefited than are injured by the regimen of a well-regulated school, and our belief is founded upon years of observation. the number is not small, of girls, who have come to us pale, nervous and laboring under many of the ills of which dr. clarke speaks, to whom the regularity which must be observed in a large school, but, most of all, the stimulus of systematic brain-work upon the body, has proved most sanitary. the mother of one young lady placed her under our care a year and a half ago, saying, as she did so: "my daughter has always been frail. i greatly fear she will not be able to endure regular school work. send her home at any time, if convinced that her health suffers from school discipline." while her health has been steadily improving, she has been able to gain an enviable position in her class. one of her professors said that he had never heard more finished recitations than hers. this is only one instance, where we might give many, of the quickening influence of brain-work upon the body, and we have often heard the same testimony given by other teachers. of course, we do not claim that sick girls ought to study, any more than sick boys, or that there are, at the present time, as many girls who can endure hard study, either spasmodic or continuous, as boys. we accept the fact, that american women are sickly women; we only protest against the false theory that makes our higher schools responsible for the fact. in dr. clarke's chapter upon co-education, we read that "this experiment"--meaning co-education--"has been tried in some of our western colleges, but has not been tried long enough to show much more than its first-fruits, viz., its results while the students are in college; and of these, the only obvious ones are increased emulation, and intellectual development and attainments." wondering how long it must be tried before it ceases to be an experiment, we read on a few pages, when we are told that "two or three generations, at least, of the female college graduates of this sort of co-education, must come and go before any sufficient idea can be formed of the harvest it will yield." is it not rather dangerous to wait two or three generations for the result of an experiment, when it affects so important a question as our national life? but what if the experiment has been already tried? what if we can show by actual figures that, in addition to the increased intellectual development and attainments, time has proved that there has also been physical strength "to stand the wear and tear of woman's work in life?" if we can have intellectual development and physical activity combined, is it not a thing to be devoutly wished? if there is any other conclusion to be truthfully reached, than the one which obliges a woman to feel that, for the good of the race, she must content her longings after knowledge with only a few crumbs from the rich banquet which is spread temptingly before her, why put her faith in the justice of god to such a test? it is this conclusion, and conclusions like this, spoken in the tone of authority, which have sometimes made weak women "speak of their physical organization with half-smothered anathemas," and led them "to be ashamed of the temple" which an all-loving, and, let us also add, an all-wise father, has built for them. if, in the place of this conclusion, against which all a woman's instincts rebel, we may truthfully teach her that there is no antagonism between her body and her brain, and that, for the good of the race, she ought systematically to develop both, we remove all stumbling blocks from her way, we lighten her burdens, we make her brave to endure, because our teachings correspond with all her preconceived ideas of justice and benevolence. it was this view of the subject, rather than any belief in the modern theories of woman's sphere, that led the founders of oberlin college to open her doors to women. she has tried the experiment for nearly two generations. her last annual catalogue contained the names of over one hundred students, whose fathers' or mothers' names can be found in some earlier catalogue. let us see with what results; for these are the data which dr. clarke says we must have, before we can reach any definite conclusion. oberlin has graduated, as shown by her last triennial catalogue, published in , men and women. this does not include the men from the theological seminary. ninety-five women have graduated from the full classical course, and received the first degree in the arts, from the "women's course." but lest some should conclude from this name, that it stands for a diluted curriculum, suited to the weakened condition of woman's brain, or rather, her body--since we have it upon the best authority that her brain, under the most powerful microscope, shows no inferiority to man's--we will add, that the trustees of the college, at their last annual meeting, discussed the question of changing the name, and conferring a degree upon those completing this course, as michigan university confers a degree upon those completing its latin scientific course. the subject was referred to the faculty, to be reported upon at the next commencement. now, what of these women, to whom oberlin has given the privileges of a higher intellectual development? how have they stood the "wear and tear"? surely they have been put to the test, for few of them have led inactive lives. their names are to be found as teachers in our common schools; in our high-schools and seminaries, from mexico to the woods of canada; from the pacific coast to the atlantic; in our lists of missionaries, both in the home and foreign field; as professors in female medical colleges; as founders of asylums and homes of refuge, and as leaders in all benevolent enterprises. now it is a law of nature, that where there is an imperfect development there is a tendency to early decay. if, then, the evils of continuous education for girls be as great as dr. clarke thinks, we should naturally expect to find more deaths among the alumnæ than among the alumni of oberlin. we turn again to the triennial, and count the starred names. there are among the former and among the latter, making the per cent of deaths for the female graduates, . ; for the male graduates, a little over . but it should be mentioned that there were no women in the first class, so that, as near as may be, the rates of mortality are the same. the number of deaths among the women who have graduated from the full classical course, is , making the per cent . . we see nothing here "to excite the grave alarm," but we do see something "to demand the serious attention of the community." if the question, whether girls can endure continuous education--which really means whether they shall be educated at all beyond the mere rudiments and polite nothings--is to be decided, such facts as these, to those who are honestly looking for the truth, mean more than pages of theorizing. but some one says, tell us of the health of these women. how many are hopeless invalids, dragging out "tedious days and still more tedious nights"? the limits of this essay would preclude the possibility of giving the individual history of each, even if it were known to us; but because facts here are worth so much more than general statements, and because dr. clarke says it is data that must decide this question, i have concluded to give the individual history, so far as known to me, of the class of ' . not because there is anything peculiar in its history, but because it is my own class, and i therefore know more about it. i take the names in alphabetical order, and call the roll: the first answers from buffalo, where, as a minister's wife, she finds ample opportunity to exercise all her powers. she reports good health. the second is unmarried, and a teacher. for some years she has been working among the freedmen's schools at the south. when i last saw her, some five months since, she appeared the embodiment of good cheer and sound nerves. the third was for eleven years a teacher in a private seminary in new york. a part of that time she had the entire charge of the school. during the whole time she lost but two months from sickness. she is now in good health, and enjoying home life. the fourth does not answer to any roll-call here. she came to us clad in mourning. consumption had robbed her of a mother and sister, and we always felt that her hold upon life was slight. the years added somewhat of strength and elasticity, and we hoped against hope. she married soon after graduating, and moved to the south. when the war opened, she and her husband were obliged to flee; hunted from county to county and from state to state, they at last crossed the ohio. no sooner had her feet touched her native soil, than, turning to him who was her all, she said--go. she lived to see the war closed; but the watching and the waiting had been too much for her. the old family enemy claimed its victim. the fifth, in reply to the question, "what are you doing?" answers: "bringing up my boys. when my husband is away, besides attending to home duties, i have charge of his business, receiving and paying out large sums of money." she might have added, as i know, that she was general city missionary without pay; that, when there was no man to fill the place, she was sabbath-school superintendent, church organist, or leader of the choir, and that many a poor girl had had her sentence in the police court lightened through her timely intervention. i need not say that she is not an invalid. the sixth, a dignified wife and mother, i have not seen for three years. at that time she entered no complaint of poor health. the seventh has been constantly employed in teaching. once during the seventeen years the state of her health demanded a lengthening of the ordinary vacation. she gave herself to out-door exercise, and, when able to walk ten miles with perfect ease, she returned to the school-room. she reports herself to-day as well, and offers as proof, that during the last year she has not lost a single recitation from ill-health. the eighth i have heard from, from time to time; first, as a successful teacher, then as a successful housewife, never as an invalid. the tenth was for many years a most earnest teacher. it is over a year since i heard from her. she was then well. the eleventh is preceptress of the normal school at ypsilanti, michigan. she is known throughout the state as one of its successful educators. i heard her read last week a most interesting paper, before the state teachers' association. she looks as if continuous education and continuous teaching had both been good for her. when asked what she thought of dr. clarke's book she laughingly answered, "look at me." the twelfth answers from illinois: "i am in good health, and so are my six boys. the two oldest are almost ready for college. they will, of course, go where their mother went. i am daily thankful i studied at oberlin." away from the plains of kansas comes the cheering words of the thirteenth: "a troop of merry children; good health, and a happy home." the fourteenth writes: "why do you ask if i am sorry that i studied at oberlin? it is the subject over which my husband and i can grow enthusiastic at any time. my health impaired there? _no._ we hope to send our daughter soon." the fifteenth we have not heard from for some time. we only know that as a minister's wife her life has not been an idle one. ten years after graduating she was in ordinary health. the sixteenth. again we hear no response. "in memoriam" is written over her grave. the seventeenth lives in mississippi. she was well when visited by some of our union boys during the war. i have no later report to give. the eighteenth certainly does not count herself an invalid; and the nineteenth, who was, as a school-girl, the very personation of energy, looks forward to years of useful labor. we are told that we must not look at the blooming class on graduation day for the effects of co-education. we have not. we have waited seventeen years. have we found anything there to frighten even a physiologist? the theory of oberlin has never been identical co-education, except in the class-room. there "boys and girls are taught the same things, at the same time, in the same place, by the same faculty, with the same methods, and under the same regimen." but she has never held, practically or theoretically, "that boys and girls are one, and that the boys make the one," or that "boys' and girls' schools are one, and that that one is the boys' school." in all those general regulations which affect both sexes, she remembers that half her children are girls: and the modifications which have consequently been made in ordinary college rules and customs, are found to be just as good for boys, and often a positive advantage. no early bell calls to chapel prayers, but, when the recitations are over, all assemble for devotional exercises. there is no standing during these exercises, and the result is quiet, and an addition both to "the stock of piety," and "the stock of health." oberlin furnishes no pleasanter sight than this daily assembling of its thousand students for evening prayers. even in her architecture, simple and unpretending as it is, there is a recognition of the fact that girls are not boys. with one exception, there are no recitation rooms on the second floor; and, while the dormitories for boys are four stories high, ladies' hall has but two flights of stairs. there is no effort made to excite an unhealthful emulation. prizes are never offered, and ranking of classes is unknown. a record is kept by each teacher, of the daily recitations in his department. if the average of any student is found to be unsatisfactory, he is informed of the fact, and an opportunity given him either to prepare for a private examination, or quietly to withdraw from his class. the women's and men's departments are entirely distinct, the one being under the supervision of the faculty, the other of the ladies' board. this board of managers is at present composed of nine ladies, who live in oberlin, and, with the exception of the lady principal, are none of them teachers in the college. to them the trustees of the institution have confided all questions touching the discipline, health, and general welfare of the girls. in doing this, they were, no doubt, actuated by the common-sense view, that women know best what women need, and that, therefore, a board of managers composed of experienced women and mothers would frame wiser laws for the government of girls than young tutors, or even gray-haired professors, with the best of intentions, could possibly enact. to the women who have composed this board, especially to those who were members during the early days of persecution, much of the success which has attended the experiment of co-education at oberlin is due. the president of the board, mrs. m. p. dascomb, has been identified with the interests of the institution almost from its founding, and was for seventeen years principal of the ladies' department. a sketch of her life may be found in _lives of eminent women_. but an impress of her life is left not only in the characters of the women who have graduated, but in the thousands who have studied for a limited time at oberlin. she is to-day as energetic, as enthusiastic, as untiring in her devotion to sound education as when we first knew her twenty-two years ago. her elastic step has yet promise in it. her cheerful outlook upon life has the quickening influence of a june sunshine after a may shower. many in that last day will rise up and call her blessed. it will be seen, from what has been said, that oberlin, outside the recitation-room, has two distinct codes of rules, one for the girls and one for the boys. they differ widely. boys are prohibited from smoking and drinking--no such restrictions are placed upon the girls. experience has shown that late study-hours are injurious to the health of girls--and we have never seen it stated that they were good for boys--consequently, girls are required to retire at ten o'clock. "now," says some one, with finger upraised, "if boys can study more hours than girls, they must accomplish more work, and have better lessons; then the boys are wronged by making them recite with the girls." in answer, we say, the simple fact is that they do not have better lessons; and, in proof, we ask any one to examine the class-books of oberlin for the last ten years. there are as many available hours for study between sunrise and p.m. as any one, boy or girl, can use to advantage. in the ladies' hall there is an experienced nurse, whose duty it is not only to care for the sick, but to look after the general health of all. special instruction upon various subjects is given the girls in the form of weekly lectures, or familiar talks, in which health, and how it may be preserved, is a leading topic. dr. clarke, in great perplexity, asks doubtfully "if there might not be appropriate co-education?" we answer that there has been, for forty years at oberlin. not in just the sense, perhaps, in which he uses the term; not in so appropriate a way as it might have been, or, we hope, will yet be, when an improved condition of her treasury shall enable her trustees to carry out their wisely-perfected plans. but, notwithstanding the mistakes of inexperience, and the restrictions of poverty, the result has been, on the whole, satisfactory--at least, those who have tried it do not hesitate, in after years, to send back their own children. no "inherent difficulty in adjusting, in the same institution, the methods of instruction to the physiological needs of each sex" has been found. it should not be overlooked, that there is a large preparatory department, composed of hundreds of boys and girls, in connection with the college, so that the experiment at oberlin has not included a small number. last year there were in the various departments , students, of whom were girls. the excuse of sickness for an absence is never questioned. this is well-known by every girl in the school; and yet we have never heard a professor in the college, or a teacher in the preparatory department complain that girls were oftener absent than boys. the professor in physiology has kindly sent me the following:--"an examination of my class-book, in all my recitations for the last five years, shows but a very slight difference in the average number of absences from recitations, for all causes, excused and unexcused, of women and men, viz.:--for each man, . , for each woman, . ." there is another fact which ought to be mentioned. many of the girls who have completed a course of study at oberlin have, at the same time, supported themselves. this they have done mostly by teaching, which has left them little time for rest or recreation even during the short vacations.[ ] of course this would have been impossible, if the expenses here were as great as in our eastern colleges; but reduce them to the lowest minimum, and, at the present rate of women's wages, the meeting of these expenses in addition to regular college-work is no slight consideration. is it any wonder if some who might endure the one, fail under the weight of both? several years ago, some benevolent quaker ladies of philadelphia gave a few hundred dollars for the benefit of this class of girls, and within the last few months others have added to the sum. it is now proposed to secure a permanent fund of $ , , the interest to be used in helping those who are helping themselves. noticing one other point, we are done. there is an intimation by our author, that boys educated in schools like oberlin become effeminate, and girls masculine. if such men as our united states geologist, whose enthusiastic devotion to science has led to the exploring of the head-waters of the yellowstone, and the opening with its rich treasures of the great northwest--and if our representative in congress, who voted against the salary bill and the retroactive clause, are specimens of effeminate men, the country can endure more of them. if mrs. bradley, who years ago went to siam, and, besides her numerous public duties as a missionary, has found time to carry on the education of her own children, sending back her sons, one of them, at least, fully fitted for college, and, now that her husband has been taken from her by death, still hopefully continues in the work--if mrs. cotting, who has so recently taught all turkey that a rich nabob cannot force even a poor girl into an unwilling marriage; and that, in that country of harems, a woman has rights which the government is bound to respect--are masculine women, the world--humanity says, give us more such women. we have presented these statements not because we have any desire to enter into a controversy, but because we believe they are facts which thinking parents and teachers will be glad to know. if they have any bearing whatever upon this question, they go far towards proving that women are able physically, as well as intellectually, to meet the demands of any well-regulated college. adelia a. f. johnston. oberlin. ohio. footnotes: [ ] in the classes which graduated last year there were thirty young women; nineteen of these wholly or in part met their own expenses. vassar college. inquiries regarding the health of vassar students, particularly as to "whether it improves or degenerates under the stimulus of regular and continued brain-work," and regarding the sanitary regulations of the college, are inquiries of interest and importance to every one who is thinking--and who is not--about improved methods of education for women. the pronounced and very advanced position that matthew vassar, the founder, took, in relation to what he considered a vital necessity in true education, the judicious combining of physical training with high intellectual culture, and which he incorporated into his scheme for giving "a fair chance for the girls," was, in itself, almost a challenge to all the world to ask these questions, and to scan critically the replies to them which the institution should make, as years should go on, and give adequate opportunity for the testing of the founder's theories. as might be expected, mr. vassar provided especial advantages for the thorough establishment and maintenance of a system of physical training. he placed the great building that was to be the college home of many women in the middle of a farm of two hundred acres, lying upon a beautiful plateau, so that pure air, unobstructed sunshine, good sewerage, an abundant water supply, quiet, freedom from intrusive observation in out-door sports or employments, and varied encouragements for active and healthful recreation, were all made possible. he was careful that the provision for the heating and lighting of the building should be generous, and that there should be no lack in the arrangements for the supply of suitable and well-prepared food. he built a commodious gymnasium and riding-school, and experienced instructors were put in charge of both those departments of physical culture; and, agreeably to his views and plan, one of the instituted professorships was that of physiology and hygiene, whose incumbent was also appointed resident physician, and given general supervision of the sanitary arrangements of the household. this brief sketch gives the prominent features of the plan by which the founder and his associated trustees and faculty hoped to solve the problem of providing for the liberal education of women, and at the same time promoting their healthy, vigorous and graceful physical development. the following extract from president raymond's report to the united states commissioner of education at the vienna exposition, on "vassar college; its foundation, aims, etc.," shows what creed underlayed the arduous labor which the solution of this problem involved: "recognizing the possession by woman of the same intellectual constitution as man's, they claimed for her an equal right to intellectual culture, and a system of development and discipline based on the same fundamental principles. they denied that any amount of intellectual training, if properly conducted, could be prejudicial, in either sex, to physical health or to the moral and social virtues. they believed, in the light of all experience, that the larger the stock of knowledge and the more thorough the mental discipline a woman actually attains, other things being equal, the better she is fitted to fill every womanly position, and to perform every womanly duty, at home and in society. at the same time, they could not but see that there are specialties in the feminine constitution, and in the functions allotted to woman in life, and they believed that these should not be lost sight of in arranging the details of her education." to give an idea of some of the complications and perplexities which beset the infancy of this educational enterprise, i cannot do better than to quote at length from president raymond's report above named. i think that his testimony, which is that of an experienced and observing teacher, is of great value, especially upon the point of the ruinous lack of system that has so generally obtained in the education of girls: "in september, , the institution was opened for the reception of students. a large number, between the ages of fifteen and twenty-four, from all parts of the union and from canada, applied for examination, and about three hundred and fifty were accepted. a respectable minority of these, say one-fourth or one-third, had been well taught--a few admirably. but of the great majority, it could not be said with truth that they were thoroughly grounded in anything. "in the ordinary english branches, had the same tests been applied then that are applied now, one-half the candidates would have been refused. in these branches the advantage was notably with those who had been taught in the graded public schools, particularly of the larger towns and cities; and none appeared to less advantage than those on whom the greatest expense had been lavished in governesses and special forms of home or foreign education. "in the more advanced studies, the examinations revealed a prevailing want of method and order, and much of that superficiality which must necessarily result from taking up such studies without disciplinary preparation. such preparation seemed not to have been wholly neglected; but in a majority of cases it had been quite insufficient, and often little better than nominal. most of the older students, for instance, had professedly studied latin, and either algebra or geometry, or both. but the latin had usually been 'finished' with reading very imperfectly a little cæsar and virgil; and the algebra and geometry, though perhaps in general better taught, had not infrequently been studied in easy abridgments, of little or no value for the purposes of higher scientific education. "one thing was made clear by these preliminary examinations: that, if the condition of the higher female education in the united states was fairly represented by this company of young women, with a great deal that was elevated in aim, and earnest in intention, it was characterized by much confusion, much waste of power, and much barrenness of result, and admitted of essential improvement. "an inquiry into their plans for future study revealed as clearly their need of authoritative guidance and direction. there was no lack of zeal for improvement. almost all had been drawn to the college by the hope of obtaining a higher and completer education than would be afforded them elsewhere. indeed, the earnestness of purpose, assiduity of application and intelligence to appreciate good counsel, which have, from the beginning, characterized the students as a body, are a noticeable and encouraging fact. but their reliance at first was largely on the adventitious advantages which the college was supposed to possess for putting them in possession of their favorite branches of knowledge and culture. of the real elements and processes of a higher education, and of the subjective conditions of mental growth and training, comparatively few, either of the students or their parents, appeared to have any definite idea. there was no lack of definiteness of choice. tastes and inclinations were usually positive; reasons were not so plentiful. that the young lady 'liked' this study or 'disliked' that, was the reason perhaps most frequently assigned. if its force was not at once conceded, she strengthened it by increased emphasis, declaring that she was 'passionately fond' of the one and 'utterly detested' or 'never could endure' the other. practical studies were greatly in vogue, especially with parents; 'practical' meaning such as had an immediate relation, real or fancied, to some utility of actual life, such, for example, as that of chemistry to cooking, or of french to a tour in europe. appropriateness for the discipline of the faculties, or the equipment of the mind for scientific or philosophical investigation, might not be appreciated as practical considerations at all. "the deepest impression made by these preliminary examinations on those who conducted them was this; that the grand desideratum for the higher education of women was _regulation_, authoritative and peremptory. granting that the college system for young men, coming down from an age of narrow prescription and rigid uniformity, needed expansion, relaxation, a wider variety of studies and freer scope for individual choice, there was evidently no such call in a college for women. in the field of '_female education_,' without endowments, without universities or other institutions of recognized authority, without a history, or even a generally accepted theory, there was really no established _system_ at all; and a system was, of all things, the thing most urgently demanded. that it should be a perfect system was less important than that it should be definite and fixed, based upon intelligent and well-considered principles, and adhered to, irrespective of the taste and fancies and crude speculations of the students or their friends. the young women who, all over the land, were urging so importunate a claim for thorough intellectual culture should first of all be taught what are the unalterable conditions of a thorough culture, alike for women and for men, and should be held to those conditions, just as young men are held, whether they 'like' the discipline or not. the rising interest in the subject of woman's education, which so signally marked the recent progress of public sentiment, required a channel through which it might be directed to positive results. if vassar college had a mission, was it not, clearly, to contribute something to that consummation? "to the task, therefore, of reducing to order the heterogeneous medley before them, the faculty set themselves with all earnestness. many have wondered why there should have been any delay in doing this--why a collegiate course was not at once marked out and the students forthwith formed into corresponding classes. the reason will appear on a moment's reflection. it is easy to build a college on paper. to produce the real thing requires a variety of material, prepared and shaped for the purpose. there must not only be buildings and apparatus, books and learned professors, but there must be _students_--students who have passed through a preparatory process which requires not only time, but certain moulding influences of a very definite character; and it will not be found easy--at least, it was not found easy eight years ago--to get together four hundred young women, or one-fourth of that number, so prepared. "one fact, however, the faculty discovered, which went far to counterbalance all their discouragements. it was this: the most mature, thoughtful, and influential of the students perfectly apprehended the situation, knew what they needed, and earnestly sought it. they were really in advance of the men of years and experience, with whom the decision rested. with the quick insight of intelligent women--or, rather, with that exact discernment wherewith the sufferer of an evil takes its measure, fixes its locality, and presages its remedy--they had worked out the solution of the problem; and they watched with the deepest solicitude the settlement of the question, what the institution was to be. modestly, but firmly, earnestly, and intelligently, they pleaded for the adoption of the highest educational standard, avowed their readiness to submit themselves to the most rigid conditions, and exerted a powerful influence to diffuse right views among the more intelligent of their fellow-students. it soon became evident that here was the vital nucleus for the future college; and around that nucleus the elements gathered with decisive rapidity. before the close of the year, the faculty found themselves supported in their desire for a full and strict collegiate course by a strong current of sentiment among the students themselves. the brains of the institution were enlisted on that side; and it was manifest that hence-forth the best class of students would be satisfied with nothing less. the _controversy_ was at an end. what remained was to make the idea a reality. "but it was not until the close of its third year that the institution fully attained a collegiate character. during these three years the faculty had been carefully studying the conditions of the problem before them, ascertaining through an extensive intercourse with students, parents, intelligent educators, and through other channels of information, the nature of the public demand, and gradually maturing a permanent course of study to meet as far as practicable its conflicting elements." the lack of method and discipline that characterized the mental habits of the assembly of young women who gathered here, was even more evident in their physical habits, and the effort to counteract the results of injudicious food, dress, social excitement, etc., seemed for a time almost hopeless. but, as order began to be evolved from the original chaos of the educational elements, a corresponding improvement was seen in the hygienic _morale_; and year by year this has made steady advance, keeping pace with the constantly improved standard of scholastic attainment. those who have had large experience as teachers will readily understand how the disappointment and irritation that so many of these students felt, both as to their mistaken notions regarding their previous education, and their vague and irrational ideas about what they would accomplish in a brief residence at this new woman's college, acted unfavorably upon their health. in not a few instances there was induced an abnormal sensitiveness, which made it well-nigh, sometimes entirely, impossible for them to remain in such a large household. this, added to the usual homesickness of young people making their first essay in independent living, and the absence of regular and definite duties, made a peculiarly trying ordeal for the first few months. then, all the while and everywhere, beside and beyond these general disturbing influences, there were found the special and individual lack of any sound hygienic theory and practice, and a persistent antagonism to the sanitary regulations which were made obligatory. that the time for sleep should begin early, and be uninterrupted for eight hours, was a rule stoutly resisted and habitually disobeyed by many a pale-faced, nervous girl, who, when remonstrated with, had invariably at her tongue's end, "at home i have always studied as late at night and as early in the morning as i pleased, and it never hurt me!" numbers of little, stunted, dyspeptic girls "couldn't see any sense in making such a fuss if they didn't go regularly to meals;" these it was not easy to convince that no good brain-work could be done on a diet of toast and tea, or crackers soaked in a paste of vinegar, molasses, mustard, pepper and salt, or confectionery and pastry. they "hated" beef and vegetables, and brown bread, as well as stated hours for partaking of such simple rations. those who came here with suitable clothing could have been counted on one's fingers. the gospel of good apparel according to miss phelps and mrs. woolson had not then been preached; and, although the testimony of plain, every-day doctors, and of learned medical professors was that they had labored earnestly for many years to persuade women to wear flannel underclothing and thick-soled shoes, fashion's frown had deterred the mothers from accepting the advice, so what could be expected from the daughters but a following of the same customs, and an increased tendency to rheumatism, neuralgia, congestions, and other besetments of low vital force? these statements give a glimpse of the work which came to the resident physician in this houseful of young people, and also of some or the obstacles that prevented the early establishment of a satisfactory regimen. but progress was all the while making in the right direction, though there were many failures and discouragements; and, best of all, there was the same nucleus that president raymond speaks of, viz., a group of intelligent, conscientious students, who, once having learned physiological truths, accepted them as guides in daily living; and from this group emanated an influence that was felt, to a greater or less degree, by even the youngest and most frivolous. gradually it became disgraceful to have hysterics, or to give other marked evidence of a want of self-control: a good appetite that was regularly appeased by plain, nutritious food came to be regarded, first, as not unladylike; second, as quite proper; and last, as a desired blessing: thin walking shoes, insufficient clothing, squeezed-up waists, and the like, grew in disfavor till they were stamped "vulgar," and the careful gymnastic drill, with its appropriate light, warm, loose dress, taught to many their first lesson of physical freedom. to elizabeth m. powell (now mrs. henry bond, of florence, mass.), who was the first instructor in physical training after the gymnasium was built, and who for five years pursued her admirable method with more and more success, the college is greatly indebted for the thorough respect which that department has always commanded, and for its harmonious co-operation in the primary business of these students in science and literature. just as the courses of study became more definite in aim and requirement, as the work of each class was more clearly marked out and adhered to, and as the intellectual life responded to the impulse of a reasonable and steady demand, so was the physical life strengthened. by the close of the third year we could not but be as much encouraged by the advance of hygienic sentiment and practice among the students, as we were by their commendable progress in liberal culture; and both seemed to us largely and fairly attributable to the systematic methods which, one by one, had been patiently wrought out from the original confusion, and as patiently fitted into an efficient working-plan. so far as i am able to judge, no one thing here has done more to counteract the hereditary or acquired tendency of many young women, to disorders peculiar to their age and sex than the opportunity for pursuing, quietly and continuously, with a definite aim and certain purpose, well-arranged courses of study. i can recall numbers of instances of girls who came to us weak, indifferent, listless, full of morbid whims and uncontrolled caprices of mind and body, who gained in this bracing atmosphere of happy, sustained industry, such an impetus toward real health that they forgot aches and discontents, and went home ready and eager to do their share in the world's work. every one knows that uncongenial, badly-planned, disconnected, or purposeless effort fatigues, worries, and weakens both body and mind: is it difficult to believe the converse--that thorough, methodical, and helpful activity stimulates and strengthens. to these general statements, i add the following particulars respecting the last three classes. i have divided each class into three groups, designated respectively "good," "fair," "delicate," according to the condition of health in which the individual students entered upon the college curriculum. class of . entered in good health " " fair " " " delicate " of the fourteen "good," thirteen graduated in as good health; one in much deteriorated health. of the five "fair," all left improved, as did also the "two delicate." class of . entered in good health " " fair " " " delicate " of the eighteen "good," all left in as good or better health. of the nine "fair" all improved, and the one "delicate" had ceased to make that distinction necessary; she was promoted to "fair." class of . entered in good health " " fair " " " delicate " of the nineteen "good," fifteen left as well as they came. two took the course too young, and felt the undue strain in diminished general strength. two deteriorated in health. of the fourteen "fair," five left in essentially the same condition; nine improved. of the twelve "delicate," five left in the same condition; seven improved. it is scarcely necessary to say that every year the same old battles with bad habits in dress, diet, exercise, sleep, and work, have to be fought; but the enemies are not so numerous, and the allies of health and common sense are always gaining in numbers and strength; so the prospect for ultimate and complete victory improves. perhaps the greatest obstacle that we find to the consummation of our scheme for intellectual training, is the pressure made by students, and even more strongly by their parents, to take the work while they are too young. fifteen is the minimum age at which any are admitted, even for the preparatory classes; but no girl of fifteen has the poise, the _settledness_ of nerve and muscle and brain to enable her to bear uninjured the immense strain that the mere living in such a great family necessitates. it is almost impossible for any one who has not tried it to understand this; and parents listen with a polite, incredulous smile, when i explain why i think it unwise for their bright young daughters to attempt here the not difficult latin, mathematics, etc., of the preparatory years. we--the parents and i--agree perfectly that the girls can do the work easily enough, but they, the parents, can not see the difference which is so clear to my mind--as, after these eight years, it could hardly help being--the difference that it will make to the girls whether they do the work in the small classes of the home school, and surrounded in their leisure hours with the freedom and repose of the accustomed family, or in the large classes that are here necessary, and amid the inevitable excitements, outside the recitation room, of a constant residence in a household of five hundred. again and again i have seen these young students, for, of course, they enter despite my protestations--everybody wants to see the folly of everything for himself--i have seen them succumb to the unwonted nervous tax within a few weeks; others bear up for months, many get through the year and go home to spend their summer vacation in bed--"vassar victims" all, whose ghosts haunt the clinical records of doctors from texas to canada, from maine to california, and whose influence makes, so far as it is felt, against woman's chances for liberal education; for these failures are counted as natural effects of study, of mental labor which the female organization cannot endure! i have no doubt that, for a respectable minority of these fifteen-year-old girls, life here, with its absolute regularity of hygienic regimen, is less disadvantageous than the mixture of school and "society," in which they would be permitted to dissipate their energies at home; but that does not alter the fact that the vital needs of immaturity, physical, mental, and moral; cannot be most wholesomely met amid conditions so artificial as must obtain in a great educational establishment. with those who enter more advanced classes at an immature age--fortunately, they are very few--the case is still worse, for, in addition to the nervous tax to which i have alluded above, they attempt woman's work with a child's strength. the result is inevitable--a stunted, unsatisfactory womanhood, the penalty for the violating of nature's law of slow, symmetrical development, is not to be escaped. dr. clarke's _sex in education_ puts this point well, and perhaps the little book may be forgiven its coarseness and bad logic, if it succeeds in awakening the consciences of parents and teachers with regard to this phase of the school question, a phase which bears with equal pertinency upon a fair chance for boys and for girls. when women begin at eighteen or twenty the earnest business of a collegiate course, for which they have slowly and thoroughly prepared while their physical organization was maturing in happy freedom, and when they give to this higher intellectual labor the strength and enthusiasm that are at that age of all the life preëminent and most perfectly balanced, then we shall know what educated woman is, and learn her possible capacities in all that makes for the noblest humanity. i do not undervalue what oberlin, antioch, mt. holyoke, and other schools have accomplished for woman's higher education. i would not willingly be ranked second to any in according to them the esteem and honor which their work richly merits; and among vassar's own alumnæ are already many who give gracious promise of what may be hoped for, nay, fulfilled, when the good seed now sowing all over this broad land shall come to glad fruition. meanwhile, vassar is doing what she can to promote the health and usefulness of american women, by giving to her students the wholesome stimulus of regular, organized activity, which has for its definite aim their preparation for the serious duties of life--duties which trained faculties carry with steady poise, growing strong under the burden, but which press with sad and crushing weight upon unaccustomed powers. alida c. avery. poughkeepsie, n. y. antioch college. of the men graduates of antioch, - / per cent have died; of the women graduates, - / per cent. this of course does not include the war mortality or accidental deaths. three of the men are confirmed invalids. no woman graduate is such. of the woman graduates, three-fourths are married, and four-fifths of those were, two years ago, mothers, the families varying from one to six children. only one-half of the remaining fourth are graduates of longer standing than . it is proposed to make out statistics which shall show the comparative health of those women and men who have been here two years and upward, as it has been suggested that possibly only the stronger could bear the strain of the whole college course, and that the weaker ones dropped out by the way. it is perfectly safe now to assert that this is not the case. yellow springs, ohio. letter from a german woman. february , . dear miss brackett: i gladly comply with your request to give you such information as i possess concerning the education of young girls in germany. what i have to say is, however, more particularly applicable to the southern portions of that country. girls generally attend the public school from the age of six or seven to eleven, where they occupy themselves with the more elementary branches; afterwards they are placed in a seminary or "institut," in which they remain until sixteen or eighteen. the german girl of that age, if not a member of the titled aristocracy, is seldom taught at home, except in music, and perhaps in drawing; private instruction being indeed too expensive even for the best families; neither is she sent to a boarding-school, if a moderately good day-school is at all accessible. in my school days neither latin nor greek were taught, and only the elementary branches of science; from reliable sources i hear that the present curriculum is nearly the same. but in all schools the girls were thoroughly drilled in german, french, rhetoric, composition, arithmetic, history, and in the history of literature. english and italian were optional. the hours extended from nine till twelve, and from two to four or five, no other intermission being allowed--which seemed often rather hard. one and frequently two hours were spent in needlework, which time was utilized in the practice of french and english conversation with an experienced teacher. the girls prepared their lessons at home, and recited sitting. their attendance was expected to be _uninterrupted_, and was usually so, even through the critical period of development, except in cases of suffering and trouble, and these were not frequent. i remember but little complaint of headache and weariness--back-ache seemed unknown. and yet these girls worked hard, many of them very hard. some began to teach when only sixteen, or even younger, and while still pursuing their own studies. they went out generally in every weather, and at all times, month in and month out. now, why did they not break down? why do we find comparatively few invalids among the educated german girls and women? are there no other causes at work than a somewhat different climate and, occasionally, a more phlegmatic temperament; or is it because the studies of the modern languages and history, the endless practising of _études_ and sonatas, the stooping wearily over some delicate embroidery, is less taxing to the nervous system than latin and greek, and the working out of algebraic problems? i am not prepared to say. but grant that a small part of the solution can be found in this difference, there are yet other and deeper causes at work. one of them is that the young german girl, while at school, makes study her sole business. she goes to no parties, visits no balls. she does not waste her hours of sleep or leisure in putting numberless ruffles on her garments, so as to surpass her mother in elegance, nor does she promenade up and down the avenues and flirt with young gentlemen. her amusements are of the simplest. a walk, or an hour spent in a public garden in her mother's company; occasionally a concert or an opera, which never lasts later than nine or half-past nine; some holiday afternoon, a little gathering of young school-friends, to which gentlemen are not admitted; once or twice a year, perhaps, after she is fifteen, private theatricals or a _soirée_; where she appears in a simple dress, dances under her mother's care, and returns home at eleven o'clock. in this way she manages her strength and husbands her forces for study. another cause of her better health is the great physical care taken at the critical periods of the month; although, as i have previously said, she continues her studies during these days, if without suffering; i must add, that on the other hand she abstains from all physical exercise like gymnastics or dancing-lessons, protects herself most carefully against cold and wet, sleeps perhaps a little longer in the morning, and instead of taking a walk, lies down for an hour through the day. a party or ball at such a time would be looked upon by the mother with horror, and considered by the girl herself as a great impropriety. the care of her health is at all times, of importance to german women. i have, for instance, very rarely seen them walk in bitter-cold winter weather in a so-called cloak, which left the abdomen entirely unprotected. a third cause of the german girl's being better able to work with impunity than her american sister during the years of development, which in south germany begin at the age of fourteen, may be found in the simpler and much more sensible way in which she is brought up while still in early childhood. a german mother does not bedeck her little daughter of four or eight years with flounces and sashes half as heavy as herself, and then show her off in a parlor full of admiring friends; nor send her to a children's ball, where, with a young prodigy of the other sex, she imitates her elders in flirtation. instead of coaxing the wilful darling into obedience by the promise of candy, utterly disregardful of future dyspepsia, she brings her to reason by more efficient, if less agreeable expedients. the child is encouraged to play with her dolls, and to find pleasure in flowers and child-like amusements, as long as possible. thus she grows up with simple tastes, although a little awkward and shy. and, on the other hand, the mother herself finds her chief pleasure at home, and does not dream of planning amusements for each night of the week, but keeps comparatively early hours, even in the city; takes a great deal of exercise in the open air, and thus remains generally strong and healthy after her nursery is well filled. now i do not say that the german education comes up to the ideal. far from it, indeed! the german girl might, with profit, go more deeply into the wonderful mysteries of science, just as her american sister is supposed to do; counterbalance her somewhat too poetical tendencies by the severer pursuit of mathematics, and find delight in the beauties of latin and greek authors, if such should be her sincere desire. nor can i see any objection to the pursuit of medical, and other higher intellectual studies, by the few whose enthusiasm and natural gifts fit them for it. all this the german woman will safely accomplish, if she retains the simplicity of her manners and tastes, a quiet, undisturbed mind during the years of early youth, the while not forgetting to preserve the priceless gift of health. that this desirable consummation will be better and more safely reached by an adequate separate education, which can take into account woman's peculiar physical organization when necessary, rather than by co-education, no one, i think, can predict. thus far, the idea of co-education has not penetrated the german brain, and the german woman is too shy and modest to think of downright, decided competition with man. whether the radical changes in education now progressing in this country, and still in the future for germany, will yield valuable fruit, and conduce to better the condition of women, it seems to me, experiment rather than theory, must show. i am with sincere respect, yours truly, mrs. ogden n. rood. east th street, n. y. sex in education. there has recently appeared a collection of essays on the subject of girls' education, which, for the reason that it has excited so much attention, cannot here be passed by without special notice. it is seldom that any book arouses so much criticism, and, withal, so much earnest opposition as this has provoked, and seldom do the newspapers so generously open their columns to discussions so extended on the merits and demerits of any publication. the author is a physician of high repute in the city of boston, dr. e. h. clarke. with regard to the criticisms on it, the general observation may be made, that where the writer is a man, praise is more generally bestowed than in those cases where a woman is the author, though there are very marked exceptions, the bitterest criticism of a large number in my possession being written by a man. women, from their stand-point of women, very generally unite in disagreeing with its premises, and from their stand-point as reasoning beings, they are unable to accept its conclusions, the premises being granted. and these adverse criticisms, these indignant protests, are not solely from teachers, but also from mothers, from those who have never taught, and the most candid and dispassionate one of all, from a woman in no wise connected with schools, either public or private. but even supposing that they were all from teachers, does that fact, except under a very narrow view of human nature, render them any the less valuable? does one profession blind the eyes more than the other? even in the narrowest view possible to the teacher, is it not for her interest that her pupils should be healthy? how can mental work be satisfactorily done without physical vigor? if it be objected here that some teachers are interested only in present results, unmindful of future consequences, i enter a counter statement that the same is true of some physicians, and bar the line of argument which would compare the poorest teachers with the best physicians. the profession of teaching is not thus narrow in its views; is not so led by present and temporary motives. its members are not working for glitter and show in the few years of school life; they do not aim at showy displays at the risk of permanent injury. they work not for to-day, but for all time and for eternity. their greatest reward is in seeing the development of mind, the correction of false habits, the strengthening grasp of thought, and the growth of character. are they any less desirous than the physician that the delicate instrument which puts the soul in communication with the external world, and by means of which it must be developed, be in perfect tune? do they desire any less earnestly than he, that they may assist in forming from the effervescent girl-life of america a gracious womanhood, fully able to bear any strain which active life may bring, rejoicing to become in due time true wives and real mothers? is the future of american women any less dear to the teaching profession than to the medical profession? do they "care less for human suffering and human life than the success of their theories?" are not the teachers seeking truth as well as the physicians? are not they, to use the simile of one able critic, also attentive at their watch-towers of science and experience? a woman who has been teaching for many years, and has been all the time associated with large numbers of growing girls; who has been intimately acquainted with their habits and their health; has held their confidence, and has watched them carefully day after day, not infrequently being called on for direct medical advice as well--has had an opportunity for acquiring a fund of practical knowledge on the subject which is available to no man, even though he be physician. it were well to be just. let the teachers have credit at least for intelligence and honesty as well as the physicians. does any one assert that dr. clarke does not blame the teachers? we answer, as we shall show more fully in another place, that any reflection on what is known in technical language as the school "system" of any country, is a reflection on the teachers of those schools. if any one doubts the power of the teachers as a body to mould the internal arrangements and details of the schools, the school records of more than one city will furnish him with cases where the teachers have forced upon the committee and the schools, measures by them judged necessary, text-books of which they approved, and their candidates for vacant places, till their power and influence will appear no longer doubtful. the book does not ostensibly on its title-page claim to be a work on co-education, but none the less is that the subject considered from first to last. in the preface, the author remarks in an apology for plainness of speech: "the nature of the subject which the essay discusses, the general misapprehension both of the strong and weak points of the woman question, _and the ignorance displayed by many, of what the co-education of the sexes really means_, all forbid that ambiguity of language or euphemism of expression should be employed in the discussion." the italics are ours, but the words are dr. clarke's; and unmistakably show that the main drift of the book is to stem and if possible to turn the tide of popular conviction which is opening our colleges, new and old, to students, without regard to sex.[ ] again, the volume is divided into five parts, as follows, to quote the table of contents: i. introductory. ii. chiefly physiological. iii. chiefly clinical. iv. co-education. v. the european way. part i. asserts that there is a difference between men and women; accuses woman of neglecting the proper care of her body; demands her physical development as a woman--not forgetting, however, on page , to call attention to co-education as a great and threatening danger. part ii. is, as it claims to be, physiological, and presents nothing new to the student. part iii. contains an account of seven exceptional cases of diseased action which have come under the writer's observation; a few more from another physician, and ends with this sentence: "the preceding physiological and pathological data naturally _open the way to a consideration of the co-education of the sexes._" the italics, as before, are ours. part iv. considers the subject of co-education, already prejudged. part v. is merely of the nature of an appendix, which attempts to show that in europe the whole matter of woman's health is carefully watched. if the one object of the essays is not to stay the spread of co-education, we confess ourselves unable to discover what it is. in this effort lies its only possible unity, its _primum mobile_, its one clearly defined object from beginning to end. the argument reduced, may be fairly stated thus: boys are capable of sustained and regular work; girls are not so capable--therefore they cannot be educated together (provided the standard is kept up to the standard best for boys) without injuring the girls. admit, then, for one moment, the premises, and grant that our boys and girls are to have separate institutions of learning. every one sees, at one moment's reflection, that it would be impracticable to take any account of the occasional necessary absences from class recitation in the general arrangements of our school, composed only of girls. the programme must be arranged, even in that case, for regular work, and each individual, must take her own time for absence, and must make up the class-work, which, of course, must go on during her absence, as best she may. the trouble still remains, unless, carrying out dr. clarke's argument to its only logical conclusion, we abolish class recitations entirely, and supply each girl pupil with her own particular governess, who can accommodate each day's work to the varying capacities of her pupil and herself. i repeat, that this is the only logical result possible, if we accept dr. clarke's premises and conclusions. we shall find in france a country where the girls have always been educated in this way, or in convent schools. but shall we find in france a country where the proportion of births to the number of nubile women is greater than in our own? and shall we find in france a country where the general type of the race is degenerating or improving? it will be replied that other causes are at work to produce the result in france. the statement is granted; but have we then sufficient grounds for asserting justly for america, that "to a large extent the present system of educating girls is the cause of their pallor and weakness," or that "woman's neglect of her own organization, though not the sole explanation and cause of her many weaknesses, _more than any single cause_, adds to their number and intensifies their power?" (the italics are again ours.) we return to our statement, that the governess system is the only system which can result as the logical outcome of the book in question. but this, america is not likely to accept. we ask, then, it being evident that in any school the regular work must go on, though two or three be absent, what difference it would make in the practical result, whether the sixty or seventy present were all girls, or but half of them girls and half boys? supposing that the president of a university were told, on the entrance of a student, that he would probably be absent twenty or thirty days during the entire scholastic year, and he were asked whether it would be possible for the youth to perform satisfactorily the work of his class under those conditions, does any one doubt what his answer would be? so far on the practical side of the question. but when it is asserted that co-education is fatal to the health of our women, more is implied than appears on the surface; for, in reality, co-education and higher education for women are almost synonymous terms. if, at this moment, the gates of all the high schools and colleges open alike to both sexes, were closed to the girls, where, except at one honored institution, could they turn to obtain a really thorough and all-sided education--such an education as a young man would be satisfied with? and who will assert that even vassar college is to be, for a moment, compared to harvard and yale in respect to its facilities for acquiring a rounded education? one may strike at co-education, and, at the same time, assert that he demands for woman the highest development of which she is capable--that he is only desirous of securing to her "a fair chance;" and yet he cannot deny that he deprives her of all chance, if his effort against co-education should succeed. as has been said, all criticisms on schools and school systems are criticisms on the teachers, for it is they who constitute and determine the school. if pupils are made to stand during recitations, it is because the teachers of the school desire it; but in a somewhat large daily observation and intimate acquaintance with public schools of all grades, and in different sections of the union,[ ] i have yet to see any high or normal school, or, indeed, any oldest class in a grammar school, in which the pupils stand during recitation. in the lower grades they stand or sit, as the teacher requires. i should say that in a majority of cases they will be found standing, but, at the same time, it should be borne in mind that in the lower grades the recitations are much shorter, as a general rule not exceeding ten or fifteen minutes. in the older grades the pupil is almost universally expected to rise to answer his question, and sit as soon as it is answered. leaving out the point of formal courtesy to the teacher--a matter not to be lightly treated in its far results on character--it is assumed, even in a physiological point of view, that the momentary change of position is better for bodies not yet matured than the constant sitting posture. i would not for one moment be understood as asserting that much unreasonable work is not demanded of the pupils in the public schools of the country, or as defending the often excessive and unseasonable work. i most emphatically record my protest against the custom of public exhibitions, and the unnatural excitement which is oftentimes kept up to stimulate the susceptible thought-machine of the child and youth into abnormal activity. but these evils are not inseparable from mixed schools, nor do they belong exclusively to them. i have now in mind a school of girls, directed by women exclusively, where the girls have been for many days obliged to answer in writing in ninety minutes, twenty difficult questions, as an examination, three girls being allowed only one copy of questions between them, and their promotion to another class being dependent upon their success. two or three of these examinations are being given in one session of five hours. but if the girls go home from that school-work every day with cold hands and feet, and a headache that keeps them on the sofa all the afternoon, it is not because they are doing regular work, nor are schools or systems in general to blame; the only persons to blame are the individual teachers who plan and carry out the barbarous and savage torture, and the parents, who take so little notice of what is going on, that they permit their daughters to continue such work. it is not the legitimate brain-work, but the nervous excitement, that breaks and kills. it is not work but worry that tires. however, any words which lead to earnest discussion on the educational question are welcomed by all true educators, for truth, which is the end and aim of their search, will never suffer in the conflict. but, were the "old times" so much better than the present? in making the statement that they were, we are always apt to be misled by omitting two considerations of no light weight. the first is, that we draw our information and statistics now from a vastly wider area than in the "good old times," and hence that our figures relating to crime and disease always appear disproportionately large. the railroad, the steamboat, the telegraph, the printing-press--effects and causes of advancing civilization--have practically enlarged our mental horizon, and death, disease, and crime appear in unnaturally large proportions. and yet, if it be true that among the first anglo-saxon generation born and reared on this side the atlantic, it was common for the men to have often, two, three, and four wives, it seems that the causes of disease and death among the women were not inactive even then. the second consideration referred to is this: as medical instruments multiply, diseases appear to multiply in exact proportion. with the advent of the ophthalmoscope, for instance, how innumerable and complicated appear the diseases of the eye. are we justified in concluding, then, that in the "good old times" of our great-grandmothers--that idyllic time when women must have been at least free from the reproach that they, solely and unaided, were destroying the hopes of the race--that myopic, hypermetropic and astigmatic eyes were not in existence? such a conclusion would be manifestly unfair. it seems impossible, in this view, to make any fair comparison of the health of women in the present, and in the past; that is, any comparison which will be sufficiently accurate for scientific purposes. it were better, if we must have an idyllic realm somewhere, to posit it rather in the future than in the past, and to work with all the light we are able to secure towards its attainment. this working may, however, be done in two ways as regards education: we may state, first, and i think without fear of contradiction, that there is too much sickness among american women. we may then patiently and fully investigate all the habits of those women, and if we come to the conclusion that co-education or that over-study in amount or in manner is the chief cause, we shall all give it up. we shall then seek and find some better way of securing for our girls an opportunity for the full development of every part of their organization, venturing, however, to add 'brain' to dr. clarke's list of "muscle, ovary, stomach, and nerve."[ ] secondly, we may assume in the first place the general statement that co-education is not desirable--is objectionable--that it must inevitably cause sickness if girls study regularly every day; and conclude that regular study is the chief cause of sickness among them. and yet god is his own interpreter, and he will make it plain at last, so that the man who runs may read, that he is no such bungler in his workmanship as to fashion the organism of a woman without giving her at the same time the corresponding strength. we have too much belief in him to believe that the power given to us is in such niggardly measure for our needs; that, in order to carry out perfectly the work of the organs most peculiarly our own, the regular action of the brain must be suspended. not so. he who fits the shoulder to the burden; who, in planning the complex organism, not only made possible greatly increased size and strength whenever they should be needed, but even took thought also to provide for the return of the blood through capillary and vein from the artery which has been severed by the surgeon's knife, is not so forgetful of ends and means. if extra work is to be done by the organism of the woman, extra strength in exact proportion to the extra effort has been provided, "where there is power to do that which is willed." to god, the brain of a woman is as precious as the ovary and uterus, and as he did not make it impossible for her to think clearly when the uterus is in a congested state, so, reasoning analogically from the knowledge we have of him, no more did he design that the uterus should not be capable of healthy and normal action while the brain is occupied with a regular amount of exercise. such is our creed. we are more sure of truth by the so-called deductive than by the so-called inductive ladder, and it was not without meaning that she was represented as dwelling at the bottom of a well, for she is more surely reached by descending to her abode from the so-called abstract, than by climbing with our feet on the slippery concrete. nay, even though physical science still insists in words on holding on to 'facts' and the testimony of the senses, forgetful that any fact is after all only a "relative synthesis," we find it in its latest researches rapidly approaching at both ends, things entirely out of the region of the senses; for, beginning with invisible and intangible atoms, which we are required to take on faith, and which are assuredly very abstract, we find it passing to the correlation of forces and modes of motion, which certainly are as abstract as atoms. shall we not be quite as safe then in attempting to solve the problem of "woman's sphere, by applying to it abstract principles of right and wrong," as by seeking for it alone "in physiology?" woman is not merely a "cradle" and a grave, as she is assumed to be in the essay under consideration, and all attempts to settle the question of her sphere by considering her as such, are usually, and perhaps not unnaturally, found to excite indignation. to apply the above statement: the women who are urging to-day the question of education are often accused of presenting education in the light of a quack medicine which is warranted to cure all troubles. and it is true that we do so present it, for the broader grows our experience of men and women, and the more deeply and widely we think, the more inevitably do we find this problem of education appearing before us, in whatever direction we turn. it is like the ducal palace in carlsruhe, to which all the main streets of the city converge, and which meets one's eyes at every corner. the question of woman's dress, for instance, is never to be solved by approaching it from the outside. earnest and vigorous writers may tell women what they ought to do, and we all know perfectly well that if the skirts of our dresses ended at the tops of our boots, and we were warmly clad beneath in the full trousers proposed years ago by mrs. bloomer, we could take much more exercise without fatigue, and should be saved much time and much annoyance. who but a woman can appreciate the trouble of always being obliged to use one hand in carrying her skirts up long flights of stairs? who but a woman knows the inconvenience of her long skirts in entering or leaving a carriage, or in a strong wind? who but a woman knows that it is utterly impossible to take even a short walk on a rainy day, however well protected, without bringing into the house an amount of wet clothing which necessitates almost an entire change? and yet there is not the slightest chance of securing the physiologically needed reform by demonstrating these facts, simply because, below all this question of dress, there lies a deeper thing, of which dress is only the index--the question of sex, and the relations resulting from it. for whose admiration and attraction do our young women array themselves? to please whom do they leave off their flannels and attend evening entertainments in low-necked dresses, sweep the pavements with their ornately trimmed skirts, and wear thin boots which shall display to better advantage the well-turned foot? i desire not to have it understood for one moment that i am speaking lightly, or in terms of sweeping condemnation, of the underlying consciousness, of which the external dress is only an outward sign. the underlying impulse is an inevitable, is a true, pure, and womanly one; on it are based all institutions of civilization, for from it spring marriage, the family, society, and the state, and an evil tree cannot bring forth such fruit. it may, however, be over-stimulated, and the extravagancies of dress and manner which broadway and fifth avenue, the opera, or any fashionable assembly of young people display in america, are universally and justly condemned by sober thought as falling only a few grades behind actual immodesty. but if we would produce any reform of any consequence on the subject of external dress, we must do it, not by attacking the dress at all; it will never be accomplished in this way. so long as it is considered that woman's chief and only duty, the only object of her creation, in fact, is to minister to the comfort and happiness of man; so long as it is represented to her that she fulfills the ends of her being, only in the fact that she does this; so long as it is not fully and freely allowed that a woman owns herself, body and soul, in the same sense as that in which a man owns himself--just so much and no more--women will dress to please the taste of men, and will vie with each other to excite their attention, and secure their admiration. teach a girl that her only destiny is to be only any kind of a wife and a mother, to preserve the race physically strong--keep this idea before her daily, and the more thoroughly she is convinced of it, the more conscientiously will she spend all her thought in seeking and using the only means which are then likely to help her to fulfill her so stated destiny. but make her feel that she is a responsible being, accountable only to god and her own rational judgment for her actions; make her appreciate, as far as it is possible, the responsibility devolving upon her as an individual, as a member of society, as a citizen, as a reflection of the creator in his self-determining intelligence; give her such a mental training that she shall feel that she is capable of taking her life in her own hand, and the dress will take care of itself. i do not mean that she will adopt the so-called bloomer costume, but she will let common sense, suitability, and a higher sense of beauty, more than at present, regulate her garments. in other words, if we would reform even so external a matter as dress, we must ascend to the abstract principles of ethics and metaphysics which dr. clarke so lightly sets on one side; for all dress is only an index of education, and all education, to be education at all, must deduce every one of its principles at second hand from ethics and metaphysics. again, huxley and agassiz may, as dr. clarke assumes (page ), represent physiology; but will "kant and calvin, the church and the pope" all four of whom dr. clarke assumes to be of no importance in settling the question--fairly represent ethics and metaphysics? and yet, if we were limited to these sources for these sciences of sciences, perhaps we might as well return to huxley and agassiz, and allow physiology to settle the question of woman's sphere for us, on the ground that she is merely so many material organs carefully contrived for only one special purpose, and that, the perpetuation of the race. just here, before reviewers shall have an opportunity for misinterpretation, may i pause to guard them against it and to call their especial attention to the word "_only_," which has been so freely used above? why is it that the criticisms of so many women who see below the surface, ring with a womanly indignation? they are ready for rational argument, and for widely collected and digested statistics. one of these justly says in her criticism, that dr. clarke need not to have written to germany to be informed of the care which a mother should exercise over the health of her daughter. that there are mothers in america who do not take this care, who are so occupied with other thoughts that they have no time to attend to their children, we sadly know; but some at least of us have had mothers who knew and did their duty, and who handed down to us, unimpaired the "traditions" which are well-known among women, but of which men generally, even fathers of grown-up daughters, have little knowledge, and some of them none. with regard to "the european way," however, i subjoin the following testimony from a german lady, now a mother, in answer to inquiries. she says: "i was two years at school at stuttgart, as a boarding pupil, at the close of which i made my examination in the highest class, no. , as it was called. when i entered the school, there were twenty boarding pupils; when i left, there were twenty-five; more than thirty were never admitted. day-scholars were about four hundred. as to the regulations of the school concerning the pupils during the time to which you refer, _there was only one general rule, that of being excused from the daily walk which we took from one to two hours every day_. only two pupils during my stay at school were excused from being present in their classes at that time, and this only because the physician had so ordered it. they were not kept in bed, but in the so-called sick-room, where they could read, write, etc., and must only keep very quiet." this testimony, as showing the regulations in one of the largest girls' schools in germany, seems to me valuable, as the course pursued by any large school is the index of the public demand. as to the health of english women, i copy the following paragraph from a recently published book by an english woman,[ ] which would seem to indicate that women, at least in england, are not so much superior to their american sisters: "women above actual want seldom suffer from extreme labor or from excessive indulgence, but they seldom enjoy their full vitality, either in exertion or in pleasure. whether from this reason or not, their most frequent illnesses are those connected with deficient vitality, such as can keep them in lingering misery for years; affecting chiefly those organs whose activity is not immediately necessary to life. not half the illness of this kind is under the care of a doctor. when he is consulted, it is, if possible, at second-hand, and he is very likely to hear only half the symptoms. * * * it is natural to point to the multitude of women under constant medical care, and the number of doctors whose practice lies chiefly among female patients. but if those could be counted who are endeavoring to cure themselves by traditional remedies, by quack medicines, by advice at second-hand, by the use of means that have been recommended by some doctor to some other woman, they would outnumber the former ten-fold. and it must be remembered, that most of the first class belong also to the second, as often as they dare." this testimony as to the health of english women, as coming from a woman, is of course doubly valuable; and it comes, too, as a mere digression in the article from which it is quoted, the subject of which is "feminine knowledge." it remains yet to be proved, it seems to us, that american women are, as a whole, suffering from more derangement of their peculiar functions than women of other countries. do accurately compiled statistics from full and trustworthy sources, warrant us in asserting that american women are more unhealthy than european women, or are we only assuming the fact from their general external appearance--a criterion by no means a certain one? in the old story, the pail of water containing the living fish was, after all the discussion, found to weigh about as much as the pail with the dead one. are we sure of our facts? or even if we are sure of these, even supposing that a mother of a large family here is not as strong as a mother of a large family in germany for instance, we are in no wise warranted in concluding that the two were not as strong before marriage. the wear and tear of american life must be taken into consideration, and no one but an american housekeeper who has ever "kept house" on the other side of the water, can appreciate the immense relief from care and trouble which she has there experienced, and the dread with which she again returns to the care of a house and the dealings with servants in america. it is not work, and not weakness, but annoyance and worry, that tire and drive women into nervous diseases. when we find the american and german mothers subjected to the same strain, and only the same strain, may we fairly judge of their comparative strength and health, and only then. where are the statistics concerning german women resident in this country? there is a vast field of inquiry open on this subject yet; in fact, a "south-sea of discovery," and till we are sure of our facts, it were well that we were cautious in our conclusions. the times are gone by when the clergyman uttered the authoritative words of superior knowledge to an ignorant and unquestioning audience. every clergyman preaches now to a congregation of critics, many of whom are his equals, sometimes his superiors, in general information, and who sit in judgment, more or less adequate, on the statements he may make. in the same manner, the days are past when the physician was the only one who understood anything of the structure and functions of the body, and whose prescriptions were written in an unknown tongue. it is undeniable that the majority, perhaps, of both men and women, are deplorably ignorant of their structure, and the operations of the delicate and exquisite machinery which they bear about with them; but there is also a large number who are not so ignorant, and who trace, with the genuine scientific interest, the phenomena of health and disease. the general diffusion of printed matter is rapidly diffusing knowledge in the department of medicine, as well as in that of theology. the elements of anatomy, physiology, and hygiene, are taught in all our high schools and academies, and it is no uncommon sight to see a class of girls handling the bones of a human skeleton, or, unmindful of stained fingers, searching for the semi-lunar valves in an ox's heart, with as much delight and intelligent interest as that with which they examine the parts of a watch or the machinery of a locomotive; while they can sketch on the black-board, in a few minutes, the form and relative location of all the important organs of the body, and follow the course of the blood from left auricle back to left auricle again, and that of the food, from the teeth to the descending _vena cava_. and with this basis for study already laid in school, as a part of the common education of a woman, the latest researches and discoveries of the wisest men and women are open to her as well as they are to the physician, and the census reports are at her hand; while, moreover, her knowledge of latin and chemistry makes plain to her the nature of the remedies proposed in the prescription which she gives to the apothecary. as a result of our american schools, we have such women now by the hundreds--i am not speaking of those belonging to the medical profession--and does not this question belong to them? as far as the records of experience go they are ready, nay, anxious to receive them, but they ask that these statistics shall be full in some particulars, where they always find them deficient. this girl is sick? we do not want to know simply that she attended school, and studied and recited regularly; we want to know also the kind of food she eats, and how cooked, and the regularity of her meals. we want to know the state of ventilation in the school-room and her home; we want to know how many hours of sleep she has, how many parties she has attended, what underclothing she wears, the manner in which that underclothing is arranged, the weight of her ruffled and double box-plaited dress skirt, and its mode of support, the thickness of the shoes habitually worn, the position of the furnace register in the room, the kind of reading she is allowed to have, and her standing in her class as to thoroughness or superficiality, mental clearness or chaos. we want also to know what proportion of the cases come from pampered, half-educated devotees of fashion, and what proportion from well-educated, hard-working women. when we have all these statistics, and not till then, shall we be in a condition to attempt a rational solution of the question, what it is that makes our american girls sick. while endeavoring to settle this problem, we shall not, however, forget the wise saying of dr. o. w. holmes, that the anglo-saxon race is not yet fully acclimated on this continent. but the collection of just these statistics, so all-important, and the want of which makes all assertion of causes useless, is possible only to women. and, therefore, we venture to claim that this is a woman's question--that the women themselves are the only persons capable of dealing with it.[ ] they are the only ones who can and do know the facts in detail, and the facts being laid before them, can they not, with help, possibly decide quite intelligently as to causes? they desire any and all evidence that may be given, but do not they themselves constitute the only jurors competent to decide on the verdict? from the medical profession, we get a certain amount of observed statistics, necessarily questionable from the fact that a large number of women are not sick, are not good for nothing, are not childless, and, therefore, do not consult physicians; but the reasoning which shall judge and weigh the facts presented, assigning to each its proper value, and, discarding unessential elements, shall draw a just conclusion, is not limited to any profession.[ ] as has been before stated, out of the large number of criticisms which i have at hand, the men, generally, and seemingly without appreciation of its logical results, approve of what dr. clarke has said; the women of largest experience condemn, denying his premises, disproving his clinical evidence by adding other facts, and protesting against his conclusions. the criticisms and the criticisms on criticisms would make already quite a volume, from which perhaps the principal lesson learned would be the correctness of talleyrand's idea of the use of language, as many of them consist chiefly in the assertion that statements of the book which appeared perfectly clear to one mind as having a certain meaning, had in reality not that meaning at all; and the criticisms on adverse criticisms are apt to assert that dr. clarke has been accused of dishonesty by the previous critic, when the author is quite sure that no such accusation was expressed or intended. most of the points made in the criticisms have been emphasized here. the importance of the subject justifies the interest excited, and the final effect must be good. one result is marked; from all sections of the country, women heretofore knowing each other only by reputation, or not at all, are being bound together by a common interest in a sense never before known, and unknown girls in western colleges are begging of women to plead for them that they be not deprived of their places. the result need not be feared. the irresistible force of the world movement cannot be permanently checked. "the stars in their courses fought against sisera," and we would answer the girls with the words of santa theresa: "let nothing disturb thee, nothing affright thee; all things are passing-- god never changeth; patient endurance attaineth to all things," if we did not know that there is something higher, even, than patient endurance, and so we say to them, with goethe, instead: "here eyes do regard you in eternity's stillness, here is all fulness, ye brave, to reward you; work and despair not." anna c. brackett. new york city. footnotes: [ ] the statistics of the bureau of education, circulars and , show that there are at present in the united states no less than forty-six colleges open to both sexes; and as we go to press, word comes that the london university, queen's college, belfast, and owen's college, manchester, england, are seriously considering the propriety of the measure for themselves. [ ] my professional work has lain in grammar, high and normal schools in massachusetts, city and country; high and normal school in charleston, s. c., for two years, during which time i knew perfectly well the three large public schools in the city, modeled after the new york schools; and in st. louis for nine years, where i was necessarily called to be familiar with almost every room of every school in that rapidly-growing city. i am also acquainted with the chicago schools, and with the normal schools in many states of the union. [ ] _sex in education_, p. . [ ] _the first duty of woman._ by mary taylor. pub. by emily faithfull. [ ] in this statement i find myself most unexpectedly endorsed: "the deterioration in the health of american women is without doubt one of the most serious among modern social problems. it outweighs, in real importance, vast masses of questions usually claiming far more attention. "that some of this deterioration may be due to close application to study is possible, but the numbers of those who have ever closely applied themselves to study is so very small, compared with the number of those in broken health, that, evidently, search must be made for causes lying deeper and spreading wider. "the want of success in grasping and presenting these causes hitherto by men, seems to show that there should be brought to the question the instinct, the knowledge, the tact of woman herself, and it would seem that, for this, she has need of a system of education to give the mental strength required for searching out those causes, and grappling with them. "more than this, it would seem that if the cause lies to any extent in want of knowledge of great principles of health, or in want of firm character to resist the inroads of certain vicious ideas in modern civilization, a change of woman's education from its too frequent namby-pamby character, into something calculated to give firmer mental and moral texture, would help, rather than hurt in this matter."--_majority report submitted to trustees of cornell university on mr. sage's proposal to endow a college for women. february , ._ the concluding paragraphs will be found entire in the appendix. [ ] chancellor winchell, of syracuse university, makes this statement: "it is not pertinent to the question for us to inquire whether the pursuit of the higher studies be compatible with the health of woman. she is to be her own judge in that respect. we allow her to judge in regard to the healthfulness of all other pursuits. the pursuit of fashion, in some instances, is reported to have been damaging, if not ruinous, to health; yet in our legislative halls, and in the formation of public opinion, we enact no laws which interfere with the right she exercises to pursue her business of fashion, and to lead a life which may be, and is, prejudicial to her physical health." appendix. conclusion of majority report to the trustees of cornell university, on mr. sage's proposition to endow a college for women, albany, february , . "in beginning their report, your committee stated that their duty seemed first to be to investigate the facts in the case separately, then to collate them, then to throw any light thus concentrated into theories and programmes. "in accordance with this plan they would conclude the general discussion of this subject by concentrating such light as they have been able to gain, upon the main theory imbedded in the arguments against mixed education. "the usual statement of this theory contains some truths, some half-truths, and some errors. as ordinarily developed, it is substantially that woman is the help-meet of man, that she gives him aid in difficulty, counsel in perplexity, solace in sorrow; that his is the vigorous thinking, hers the passive reception of such portions of thought as may be best for her; that his mind must be trained to grapple with difficult subjects, that hers needs no development but such as will make her directly useful and agreeable; that the glory of man is in a mind and heart that rejoices in solving the difficult problems, and fighting the worthy battles of life; that the glory of woman is in qualities that lead her to shun much thought on such problems, and to take little interest in such battles; that the field of man's work may be the mart or shop, but that it is well for him to extend his thoughts outside it; that the field of woman is the household, but that it is not best for her to extend her thoughts far outside it; that man needs to be trained in all his powers to search, to assert, to decide; that woman needs but little training beyond that which enables her gracefully to assent; that man needs the university and the great subjects of study it presents, while woman needs the 'finishing schools' and the 'accomplishments;' and that, to sum up, the character, work, training and position of women are as good as they ever can be. "the truths in this theory have covered its errors. the truth that woman is the help-meet of man has practically led to her education in such a way that half her power to aid, and counsel, and comfort is taken away. "the result has been that strong men, in adversity or perplexity, have often found that the 'partners of their joys and sorrows' give no more real strength than would nuremberg dolls. under this theory, as thus worked out, the aid, and counsel, and solace fail just when they are most needed. in their stead, the man is likely to find some scraps of philosophy, begun in boarding-schools, and developed in kitchens or drawing-rooms. "but to see how a truly educated woman, nourished on the same thoughts of the best thinkers on which man is nourished, can give aid and counsel and solace, while fulfilling every duty of the household, we are happily able to appeal to the experience of many; and for the noblest portrayal of this experience ever made we may name the dedication to the wife of john stuart mill of her husband's greatest essay. "but if we look out from the wants of the individual man into the wants of the world at large, we find that this optimist theory regarding woman is not supported by facts, and that the resulting theory of woman's education aggravates some of the worst evils of modern society. one of these is conventional extravagance. "among the curiosities of recent civilization, perhaps the most absurd is the vast tax laid upon all nations at the whim of a knot of the least respectable women in the most debauched capital in the world. the fact may be laughed at, but it is none the less a fact, that to meet the extravagances of the world of women who bow to the decrees of the bréda quarter of paris, young men in vast numbers, especially in our cities and large towns, are harnessed to work as otherwise they would not be; their best aspirations thwarted, their noblest ambitions sacrificed, to enable the 'partners of their joys and sorrows' to vie with each other in reproducing the last grotesque absurdity issued from the precincts of _notre dame de lorette_, or to satisfy other caprices not less ignoble. "the main hope for the abatement of this nuisance, which is fast assuming the proportions of a curse, is not in any church; for, despite the pleadings of the most devoted pastors, the church edifices are the chosen theatres of this display; it would seem rather to be in the infusion, by a more worthy education, of ideas which would enable woman to wield religion, morality, and common sense against this burdensome perversion of her love for the beautiful. "this would not be to lower the sense of beauty and appropriateness in costume; thereby would come an æsthetic sense, which would lift our best women into a sphere of beauty where parisian grotesque could not be tolerated; thereby, too, would come, if at all, the strength of character which would cause woman to cultivate her own taste for simple beauty in form and color, and to rely on that, rather than on the latest whim of any foolish woman who happens to be not yet driven out of the tuileries or the bréda quarter. "still another evil in american women is the want of any general appreciation of art in its nobler phases. the number of those who visit the museums of art is wretchedly small, compared with the crowds in the temples of haberdashery. even the love of art they have is tainted with 'parisian fashions.' the painting which makes fortunes is not the worthy representation of worthy subjects; french boudoir paintings take the place of representations of what is grand in history or beautiful in legend; wilhems and his satin dresses, bourgereau with his knack at flesh-color, have driven out of memory the noble treatment of great themes by ary scheffer and paul delaroche; kaulbach is eclipsed by meissonier. art is rapidly becoming merely a means of parlor decoration, and losing its function as the embodiment of great truths. "so rapidly evaporates one of the most potent influences for good in a republic. an education of women, looking to something more than accomplishments, is necessary to create a healthy reaction against this tendency. "still another part of woman's best and noblest influence has an alloy which education of a higher sort, under influences calculated to develop logical thought, might remove. for one of the most decided obstacles to progress of the best christian thought and right reason has arisen from the clinging of women to old abuses, and the fear of new truths. from mary stuart, at the castle of ambroise, to the last good woman who has shrieked against science--from the camarilla which prays and plots for reaction in every european court down to the weakest hunter of the mildest heresies in remote villages, the fetichisms and superstitions of this world are bolstered up mainly by women. "in lessing's great picture, the good, kind-faced woman whose simplicity huss blesses as she eagerly heaps up the fagots for his martyrdom, is but the type of vast multitudes of mothers of the race. "the greatest aid which could be rendered to smooth the way for any noble thinkers who are to march through the future, would be to increase the number of women who, by an education which has caught something from manly methods, are prevented from clinging to advancing thinkers, or throwing themselves hysterically across their pathway. "so, too, that indirect influence of women on political events, so lauded even by those who are most opposed to any exercise by her of direct influence, has some bad qualities which a better system of education might diminish. the simple historical record shows that in what bacon calls the 'insanity of states,' her influence has generally been direful. from catherine de medicis in the struggle of the league, down to louise michel, in the recent catastrophe at paris--from the _tricoteuses_ of the first french revolution to the _pétroleuses_ of the last, woman has seemed to aggravate rather than soothe popular fury. nor is the history of civil strife nearer home, without parallel examples. "an education which would lead women to a more thoughtful consideration of great questions and more logical treatment of them, would, perhaps, do something to aid mercy and justice in the world at those very times when they are most imperiled. "but to all this it may be said that these considerations are too general and remote--that woman's most immediate duties relate to maternity, and that her most beautiful mission relates to the dispensing of charities. as to her duties as mother, if the subject were fully discussed, it would be shown that, under the present system of physical, mental, and moral education of women, there is a toleration of perhaps the most cancerous evil of modern society. suffice it that the system of education proposed cannot make it worse, and may make it better. "as to woman's beautiful function as the dispenser of charities, it will do no harm to have leading minds among women shown, as a stronger education would show them, that systems of charity based on impulse and not on reason have in older countries caused almost as much misery as they have cured. her work in charity would be certainly strengthened by the training which would give her insight into this. "andrew d. white, _chairman_, "in behalf of a majority of the committee." extracts from the report of the president of michigan university for the year . "the number of women who are availing themselves of the opportunity to study at the university is nearly twice as great as it was in the year - . the number registered then was , viz.: in the law department; in the medical department, and in the academic department. this year the number has been , viz.: in the law department; in the medical, and in the academic. these last are distributed in the classes as follows: seniors, ; sophomores, ; freshmen, ; in select courses, . of those in the regular courses, eight are classical students, nine latin and scientific, and five scientific. five of those in the select courses are giving their attention chiefly to scientific studies and modern languages and literature; the sixth to classical work. six women graduated in april with the medical class, one with the law class, and two now graduate in the academic department. in the medical department the women have received instruction by themselves, except in chemistry. in the other departments all instruction is given to both sexes in common. "it is manifestly not wise to leap to hasty generalizations from our brief experience in furnishing education to both sexes in our university. but i think all who have been familiar with the inner life of the university for the past two years, will admit that, thus far, no reason for doubting the wisdom of the regents' action in opening the university to women has appeared. hardly one of the many embarrassments which some feared, has confronted us. the young women have addressed themselves to their work with great zeal, and have shown themselves quite capable of meeting the demands of severe studies as successfully as their classmates of the other sex. their work so far does not evince less variety of aptitude or less power of grappling even with higher mathematics than we find in the young men. they receive no favors, and desire none. they are subjected to precisely the same tests as the men. some of them, like the men, have stumbled at examinations; but nearly all of them have maintained a most creditable reputation for scholarship in every branch of study which has awaited them in their course. nor does their work seem to put a dangerous strain upon their physical powers. they assure me that they never enjoyed better health, and their absences by reason of sickness do not proportionately exceed those of the men. their presence has not called for the enactment of a single new law, or for the slightest change in our methods of government or grade of work. if we are asked still to regard the reception of women into our classes as an experiment, it must certainly be deemed a most hopeful experiment. the numerous inquiries which are sent to me from various parts of this country, and even from england, concerning the results of their admission to the university, show that a profound and wide-spread interest in the subject has been awakened. cornell university has recently decided to open its doors to women, and it can hardly be doubted that other conspicuous eastern colleges will soon follow the example. the alumni and trustees of at least four prominent new england colleges are formally considering the subject." from report for . "the number of women who enroll themselves as students in the university continues to increase. two years ago it was ; in - it was ; in - it was . the attendance of women was, by departments, as follows: in the law department ; in the medical department ; in the academic department . these last were, according to the calendar, distributed as follows: resident graduates ; senior class ; junior class ; sophomore class ; freshmen class ; select course ; pharmacy . of the in the regular courses of study, pursue the classical, the latin and scientific, and the scientific. of the graduates, are women; in the law department, in the literary, and in the medical. "the history of our work during the past year has only deepened the impression made during the two previous years, of the entire practicability of imparting collegiate and professional education to the two sexes in the same schools. if any have cherished a fear that the admission of women would tend to reduce the standard of work in the university, their attention may be directed to the fact that during the last three years we have been steadily increasing the requirements for admission and broadening the range of studies. now certainly the women experience no such difficulty in acquiring the studies assigned in the regular curriculum as to call for any modification of the course on their account. their record is as creditable in all branches as that of their classmates of the other sex. nor do i see any evidence that their success in their intellectual pursuits is purchased at the expense of health. on the contrary, i doubt if an equal number of young women in any other pursuit in life have been in better health during the year. i am persuaded, that with ordinary care and prudence, any one of our courses of study may be completed by a young woman of fair ability without undue draft upon her strength. none of the many objections, which are still raised against the co-education of the sexes, have thus been found in practice here to have any force. the admission of women has led to no new difficulty or embarrassment in the administration of the institution. it has certainly brought to a large class the benefits of such an education as otherwise would have been out of their reach, and has awakened through the state and the country, and even in foreign lands, a new interest in the university." putnams handy book series i. revised edition. the best reading; a classified bibliography for easy reference, with _hints on the selection of books; on the formation of libraries, public and private; on courses of reading, etc., a guide for the librarian, bookbuyer and bookseller._ the classified lists, arranged under about subject headings, include all the most desirable books now to be obtained either in great britain or the united states, with the published prices annexed. new edition, corrected, enlarged and continued to july, . mo, paper, $ . . cloth, $ . "the best work of the kind we have seen."--_college courant._ "we know of no manual that can take its place as a guide to the selecter of a library."--_n. y. independent._ "for reference for the bookbuyer it is invaluable."--_fort wayne gazette._ "supplies a need that has long been felt."--_lyons republican._ "the arrangement of the volume is excellent, and a vast amount of time and money may be saved, and a great deal of useless and hurtful trash may be avoided by consulting it."--_american historical record._ ii. fourth edition. what to eat. a manual for the housekeeper: giving a bill of fare for every day in the year. pages. cloth, cts. "compact, suggestive, and full of good ideas."--_many housekeepers._ "it can hardly fail to prove a valuable aid to housekeepers who are brought to their wits' end to know what to get for the day's meals."--_san francisco bulletin._ putnams' series of popular manuals. half-hours with the microscope. (shortly.) by edwin lankester, m.d., f.r.s. illustrated by drawings from nature. mo, cloth, $ . . "this beautiful little volume is a very complete manual for the amateur microscopist. * * * the 'half-hours' are filled with clear and agreeable descriptions, whilst eight plates, executed with the most beautiful minuteness and sharpness, exhibit no less than objects with the utmost attainable distinctness."--_critic._ half-hours with the telescope: being a popular guide to the use of the telescope as a means of amusement and instruction. adapted to inexpensive instruments. by r. a. proctor, b.a., f.r.a.s. mo, cloth, with illustrations on stone and wood. price, $ . . "it is crammed with starry plates on wood and stone, and among the celestial phenomena described or figured, by far the larger number may be profitably examined with small telescopes."--_illustrated times._ half-hours with the stars: a plain and easy guide to the knowledge of the constellations, showing in maps, the position of the principal star-groups night after night throughout the year, with introduction and a separate explanation of each map. true for every year. by richard a. proctor, b.a., f.r.a.s. demy to. price, $ . . "nothing so well calculated to give a rapid and thorough knowledge of the position of the stars in the firmament has ever been designed or published hitherto. mr. proctor's 'half-hours with the stars' will become a text-book in all schools, and an invaluable aid to all teachers of the young."--_weekly times._ manual of popular physiology: being an attempt to explain the science of life in untechnical language. by henry lawson, m.d. mo, with illustrations. price, $ . . man's mechanism, life, force, food, digestion, respiration, heat, the skin, the kidneys, nervous system, organs of sense, &c., &c., &c. "dr lawson has succeeded in rendering his manual amusing as well as instructive. all the great facts in human physiology are presented to the reader successively; and either for private reading or for classes, this manual will be found well adapted for initiating the uninformed into the mysteries of the structure and function of their own bodies."--_athenæum._ a dictionary of derivations of the english language, in which each word is traced to its primary root. forming a text-book of etymology, with definitions and the pronunciation of each word. mo, $ . . a hand book of synonyms of the english language, with definitions, &c. mo, cloth. $ . . [symbol: triangle] these two manuals are very comprehensive in a small compass. in course of publication. putnam's elementary and advanced science series, _adapted to the requirements of students in science and art classes, and higher and middle class schools._ elementary series. _printed uniformly in mo, fully illustrated, cloth extra, price, cents each._ . practical plane and solid geometry. by h. angel, islington science school, london. . machine construction and drawing. by e. tomkins, queen's college, liverpool. a. building construction--stone, brick and slate work. by r. s. burn, c.e., manchester. b. building construction--timber and iron work. by r. s. burn, c.e., manchester. . naval architecture--shipbuilding and laying off. by s. j. p. thearle, f.r.s.n.a., london. . pure mathematics. by lewis sergeant, b.a., (camb.,) london. . theoretical mechanics. by william rossiter, f.r.a.s., f.c.s., london. . applied mechanics. by william rossiter, f.r.a.s., london. . acoustics, light and heat. by william lees, a.m., lecturer on physics, edinburgh. . magnetism and electricity. by john angell, senior science master, grammar school, manchester. . inorganic chemistry. by dr. w. b. kemshead, f.r.a.s., dulwich college, london. . organic chemistry. by w. marshall watts, d.sc., (lond.,) grammar school, giggleswick. . geology. by. w. s. davis, ll.d., derby. . mineralogy. by j. h. collins, f.g.s., royal cornwall polytechnic society, falmouth. . animal physiology. by john angell, senior science master, grammar school, manchester. . zoology. by m. harbison, head-master model schools, newtonards. . vegetable anatomy and physiology. by j. h. balfour, m.d., edinburgh university. . systematic and economic botany. by j. h. balfour, m.d., edinburgh university. . metallurgy. by john mayer, f.c.s., glasgow. . navigation. by henry evers, ll.d., plymouth. . nautical astronomy. by henry evers, ll.d. a. steam and the steam engine--land and marine. by henry evers, ll.d., plymouth. b. steam and steam engine--locomotive. by henry evers, ll.d., plymouth. . physical geography. by john macturk, f.r.g.s. . practical chemistry. by john howard, london. . astronomy. by j. j. plummer, observatory, durham. in course of publication. advanced science series. _adapted to the requirements of students in science and art classes, and higher and middle class schools._ _printed uniformly in mo, averaging pp., fully illustrated, cloth extra, price, $ . each._ . practical plane and solid geometry. by professor f. a. bradley, london. . machine construction and drawing. by e. tomkins, queen's college, liverpool. . building construction. by r. scott burn, c.e. . naval architecture--shipbuilding and laying off. by s. j. p. thearle, f.r.s.n.a., london. . pure mathematics. by edward atkins, b.sc., (lond.,) leicester. vols. . theoretical mechanics. by p. guthrie tait, professor of natural philosophy, edinburgh. . applied mechanics. by professor o. reynolds, owens college, manchester. . acoustics, light and heat. by w. s. davis, ll.d., derby. . magnetism and electricity. by f. guthrie, b.a., ph.d., royal school of mines, london. . inorganic chemistry. by t. e. thorpe, ph.d., f.r.s.e., professor of chemistry, andersonian university, glasgow vols. . organic chemistry. by james dewar, f.r.s.e., f.c.s., lecturer on chemistry, edinburgh. . geology. by john young, m.d., professor of natural history, glasgow university. . animal physiology. by j. cleland, m.d., f.r.s., professor of anatomy and physiology, galway. . zoology. by e. ray lankester, m.a., (oxon.,) london. . vegetable anatomy and physiology. by j. h. balfour, m.d., edinburgh university. . systematic and economic botany. by j. h. balfour, m.d., edinburgh university. . metallurgy. by w. h. greenwood, a.r.s.m. vols. . navigation. by henry evers, ll.d., professor of applied mechanics, plymouth. . nautical astronomy. by henry evers, ll.d., plymouth. . steam and the steam engine--land, marine, and locomotive. by henry evers, ll.d., plymouth. . physical geography. by john young, m.d., professor of natural history, glasgow university. iv. for reference, libraries and for family use. the international atlas, geographical, political, classical and historical, consisting of maps, of modern geography, showing all the latest discoveries and changes of boundaries, and of historical and classical geography, with descriptive letter-press of historical and classical geography, by wm. f. collier, ll.d., and leonard schmitz, ll.d. contents. introduction to historical geography, by w. f. collier, ll.d. introduction to classical geography, by leon. schmitz, ll.d. modern geography. . the eastern and western hemispheres. . the world, (on mercator's projection.) . europe. . asia. . africa. . north america. . south america. . england and wales. . scotland. . ireland. . france. . holland and belgium. . switzerland. . spain and portugal. . italy. . sweden and norway, denmark and the baltic. . german empire. . austria. . russia. . turkey in europe & greece. . india. . persia. afghanistan, and beloochistan. . turkey in asia. . chinese empire and japan. . arabia, egypt, nubia, and abyssinia. . palestine. . dominion of canada. . _a_, _b_, _c_. united states. . west indies and central america. . australia. . victoria, new south wales, and south australia. . new zealand. historical geography. . britain under the romans. . britain under the saxons. . historical map of the british islands, from a. d. . . france and belgium, illustrating british history. . roman empire, eastern and western, th century. . europe. th century, showing settlements of the barbarian tribes. . europe, th century, showing empire of charlemagne. . europe, th century, at the rise of the german empire. . europe, th century, at the time of the crusaders. . europe, th century, at the eve of the reformation. . germany, th century, reformation and thirty years' war. . europe, th and th centuries. . europe at the peace of . . europe in . . india, illustrating the rise of the british empire. . world, on mercator's projection, showing voyages of discovery. classical geography. . orbis veteribus hotus. . Ægyptus. . regnum alexandri magni. . macedonia, thracia, &c. . imperium romanum. . grÆcia. . italia, (septentrionalis.) . italia, (meridionalis.) . armenia, mesopotamia, &c. . asia minor. . palestine, (temp. christi.) . gallia. . hispania. . germania, &c. with a copious index. vo. cloth, extra $ . putnam's series of atlases. v. the student's atlas of classical geography. containing maps, imperial vo; with descriptive letter-press, by l. schmitz, ll.d. cloth, $ . . vi. the student's atlas of historical geography. consisting of maps, imperial vo.; constructed and engraved by miller, with descriptive letter-press by william f. collier, ll.d., and full index. cloth, $ . . vii. the student's atlas of historical and classical geography. (the two above works bound together.) containing maps, with descriptive letter-press. cloth, $ . . viii. the portable atlas of modern geography. constructed and engraved by john bartholomew, f.r.a.s. with maps. imperial vo., cloth, $ . ix. the atlas of scripture geography. maps, with questions on each map. . the ancient world. . countries mentioned in the scriptures. . canaan, in the time of the patriarchs. . journeyings of the israelites. . dominions of david and solomon. . countries of the jewish captivities. . palestine in the time of christ. . modern palestine. . journeys of the apostle paul. . the distribution of the prevailing religions of the world. . the tabernacle, camp, &c. . solomon's temple and herod's temple. . ancient jerusalem. . modern jerusalem. small to, flexible cloth, cents. _some few of the_ criticisms _on_ "putnam's series of atlases." "the international atlas * * is handsome and accurate, beautifully engraved and exquisitely colored * * * of exceptional completeness."--_n. y. evening mail._ "the maps are well executed, and the work is most convenient for reference."--_n. y. tribune._ "the maps of the classical atlas, are of exquisite clearness and beauty."--_christian union._ "the maps of the portable atlas, are excellent, and the series to which it belongs contains the best low-priced atlases in the market."--_n. y. evening mail._ "the scripture atlas is full, accurate, clear and portable."--_christian union._ "we refer to it with edification and delight."--_rhode island schoolmaster._ "a very complete and compendious work, apparently accurate and in beautiful style."--_rev. stephen h. tyng, d.d._ g. p. putnam's sons., _fourth avenue and twenty-third street._ principles of teaching by adam s. bennion _superintendent of church schools_ designed for quorum instructors and auxiliary class teachers of the church of jesus christ of latter-day saints. published by the general boards of the auxiliary organizations of the church reprint of the original fundamental problems in teaching religion copyright, by adam s. bennion for the general boards of the auxiliary organizations of the church preface to the edition two texts have been written for the teacher training program of the church of jesus christ of latter-day saints since dr. adam s. bennion's book _principles of teaching_ was published, yet in spite of the fact that this book has been out of print several years so many requests for it have poured in that the general superintendency has decided to satisfy the demand with this new edition. this book with its classic qualities in many ways fits shakespeare's description of a beautiful woman when he said, "age cannot wither her nor custom dim her infinite variety." anyone who knows dr. bennion or has read his writings knows that neither custom nor age has dimmed his infinite variety. furthermore, a glance at the table of contents of this book will reveal the fact that the problems and principles treated herein are just as real today as they were when the text was written. this little volume is republished in the hope that it again will become one of the basic texts in the teacher training program and fulfill its mission as an instrument in the hands of sincere people who have the devout wish of learning how to teach the principles of the gospel by the power of the holy spirit. h.a. dixon, chairman teacher training committee _contents_ chapter page preface vii i purposes behind teaching ii what is teaching? iii the joys of teaching iv personality v personality vi attainment vii native tendencies viii what to do with native tendencies ix individual differences x individual differences and teaching xi attention xii what makes for interest xiii a laboratory lesson in interest xiv the more immediate problems in teaching xv organizing the lesson xvi illustrating and supplementing a lesson xvii the aim xviii application xix methods of the recitation xx review and preview xxi the question as a factor in education xxii the problem of discipline xxiii creating class spirit xxiv conversion--the real test of teaching bibliography _preface_ that ever-old question, "how to teach," becomes ever new when made to read, "how to teach better." this volume aims to raise those problems which every teacher sooner or later faces, and it attempts to suggest an approach by way of solution which will insure at least some degree of growth towards efficiency. these chapters originally were prepared for the course offered to teacher-trainers in the summer school of the brigham young university, in . the teachers in that course were an inspiration to the author and are responsible for many of the thoughts expressed in the pages of this book. the successful teacher ever views his calling as an opportunity--not as an obligation. to associate with young people is a rare privilege; to teach them is an inspiration; to lead them into the glorious truths of the gospel of jesus christ is heavenly joy itself. this little volume hopes to push open the door of opportunity a little wider, that more of that joy may be realized. "perchance, in heaven, one day to me some blessed saint will come and say, 'all hail, beloved; but for thee my soul to death had fallen a prey'; and oh! what rapture in the thought, one soul to glory to have brought." adam s. bennion. chapter i purposes behind teaching outline--chapter i the worth of souls.--the father's joy in the soul that is saved.--the teacher's responsibility.--teaching, a sacred calling.--our church a teaching church. our three-fold purpose in teaching: a--to guarantee salvation of the individual members of the church. b--to pass on the wonderful heritage handed down by our pioneer forefathers. c--to make more easily possible the conversion of the world. "remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of god; "for, behold, the lord your redeemer suffered death in the flesh; wherefore he suffered the pain of all men, that all men might repent and come unto him. "and he hath risen again from the dead, that he might bring all men unto him, on conditions of repentance; "and how great is his joy in the soul that repenteth. "wherefore, you are called to cry repentance unto this people; "and if it so be that you should labor all your days in crying repentance unto his people, and bring, save it be one soul unto me, how great shall be your joy with him in the kingdom of my father? "and now, if your joy will be great with one soul that you have brought unto me into the kingdom of my father, how great will be your joy if you should bring many souls unto me?" (doc. & cov., sec. : - .) "for behold, this is my work and my glory--to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man." (moses : .) if this is the work and glory of the lord, how great must be the responsibility of the teachers of zion, his copartners in the business of saving humankind! next to parenthood, teaching involves us in the most sacred relationship known to man. the teacher akin to the parent is the steward of human souls--his purpose to bless and to elevate. the first great question that should concern the latter-day saint teacher is, "why do i teach?" to appreciate fully the real purposes behind teaching is the first great guarantee of success. for teaching is "no mere job"--it is a sacred calling--a trust of the lord himself under the divine injunction, "feed my sheep" (john : ). for the teacher who has caught a glimpse of his real responsibility there is no indifference, no eleventh-hour preparation, no feeling of unconcern about the welfare of his pupils between lessons--for him there is constant inspiration in the thought, "to me is given the privilege of being the cupbearer between the master and his children who would drink at his fountain of truth." the church of jesus christ of latter-day saints has been variously designated by those not of us: "the great industrial church," "the church of pioneers," "the church of wonderful organization." it might well be called "the teaching church." there is scarcely a man or woman in it that has not at some time been asked to respond to the call of teacher. our people have been a remarkable people because they have been remarkably taught--taught of the lord and his prophets. our future can be secure only as it is guaranteed this same good teaching. every teacher must come to realize that "mormonism" is at stake when he teaches. "why do i teach?" goes to the very heart of teaching. the answer to this question is to be found, in part at least, in the three-fold objectives of our church. first, the salvation and exaltation of the individual soul. as already pointed out, this is the very "work and glory" of the father. man is born into the world a child of divinity--born for the purpose of development and perfection. life is the great laboratory in which he works out his experiment of eternity. in potentiality, a god--in actuality, a creature of heredity, environment, and teaching. "why do i teach?" to help someone else realize his divinity--to assist him to become all that he might become--to make of him what he might not be but for my teaching. someone has jocularly said: "the child is born into the world half angel, half imp. the imp develops naturally, the angel has to be cultivated." the teacher is the great cultivator of souls. whether we say the child is half angel and half imp, we know that he is capable of doing both good and evil and that he develops character as he practices virtue and avoids vice. we know, too, that he mentally develops. born with the capacity to do, he behaves to his own blessing or condemnation. there is no such thing as static life. to the teacher is given the privilege of pointing to the higher life. he is the gardener in the garden of life. his task is to plant and to cultivate the flowers of noble thoughts and deeds rather than to let the human soul grow up to weeds. this purpose becomes all the more significant when we realize that the effects of our teaching are not only to modify a life here of three-score and ten--they are impressions attendant throughout eternity. as the poet goethe has said, "life is the childhood of our immortality," and the teachings of childhood are what determine the character of maturity. the thought is given additional emphasis in the beautiful little poem, "planting," by w. lomax childress: who plants a tree may live to see its leaves unfold, the greenness of its summer garb, its autumn tinge of gold. who plants a flower may live to see its beauty grow, the lily whiten on its stalk, the rambler rose to blow. who sows the seed may find the field of harvest fair, the song of reapers ringing clear, when all the sheaves are there. but time will fell the tree, the rose will fade and die, the harvest time will pass away, as does the song and sigh. but whoso plants in love, the word of hope and trust, shall find it still alive with god-- it is not made of dust. it cannot fade nor change, though worlds may scattered be, for love alone has high repose in immortality. if the teacher, as he stands before his class, could project his vision into the future--could see his pupils developed into manhood and womanhood, and could see all that he might do or fail to do, he would read a meaning well-nigh beyond comprehension into the question, "why do i teach?" a second answer to this query lies in our obligation to pass on the wonderful heritage which we here received from our pioneer forefathers. the story of their sacrifice, devotion, and achievement is unique in the history of the world. only recently a pioneer of thrilled a parents' class in one of our wards with the simple narrative of his early experiences. his account of indian raids, of the experience with johnston's army, of privations and suffering, of social pastimes--all of these things rang with a spirit of romance. none of his auditors will ever forget the story of his aunt who gave up her seat in her wagon to a sick friend for whom no provision had been made, and trudged across the plains afoot that one more soul might rejoice in zion. every pioneer can tell this sort of thrilling story. could our young people enjoy the companionship of these pioneers there would be little need of alarm concerning their faith. unfortunately, each year sees fewer of these pioneers left to tell their story. it is to the teacher, both of the fireside and the classroom, that we must look for the perpetuation of the spirit of ' . the ideals and achievements of the pioneers are such an inspiration, such a challenge to the youth of the church today--that teachers ought to glory in the opportunity to keep alive the memories of the past. our pioneer heritage ought never to be forfeited to indifference. it is a heritage that could come only out of pioneer life. such courage to face sacrifice, such devotion to god, such loyalty to government, such consecration to the task of conquering an unpromising and forbidding desert, such determination to secure the advantages of education, such unselfish devotion to the welfare of their fellows--where could we turn for such inspiration to one who would teach? nor is it enough that we strive to perfect the individual membership of the church and preserve the social heritage out of the past--we assume to become the teachers of the world. it is our blessing to belong to a church built upon revelation--a church established and taught of the lord. but with that blessing comes the injunction to carry this gospel of the kingdom to every nation and clime. "mormonism" was not revealed for a few saints alone who were to establish zion--it was to be proclaimed to all the world. every latter-day saint is enjoined to teach the truth. whether called as a missionary, or pursuing his regular calling at home, his privilege and his obligation is to cry repentance and preach the plan of salvation. the better we teach, the sooner we shall make possible the realization of god's purposes in the world. the two thousand young men and women who go out each year to represent us in the ministry should go out well trained, not only that they may represent our church as an institution which believes that "the glory of god is intelligence," but also that they may win intelligent men and women to the truth. only he who is well taught may become a good teacher--hence the need of intelligent, devoted service. "why do i teach?" far from being an idle question, goes to the very heart of the future of the church. * * * * * questions and suggestions--chapter i . how many of the members of your ward are actively engaged in other than parental teaching? . what significance is attached to calling our church a teaching church? . discuss the significance of jesus' being a teacher. . compare the responsibility of teaching with that of parenthood. . enumerate the chief purposes behind teaching. . in your opinion, which is the greatest purpose? why? . to what extent does the following statement apply to the welfare of our church: "that nation that does not revere its past, plays little part in the present, and soon finds that it has no future." . discuss our obligation under the injunction to teach the gospel to the world. . discuss the need here at home of better teaching. . in what sense are we trustees of the heritage left by the pioneers? helpful references doctrine & covenants: james, _talks on psychology and life's ideals_; brumbaugh, _the making of a teacher_; weigle, _talks to sunday school teachers_; strayer, _a brief course in the teaching process_; betts, _how to teach religion_; strayer and norsworthy, _how to teach_; sharp, _education for character_. chapter ii what is teaching? outline--chapter ii teaching a complex art.--what teaching is not.--what teaching is.--what it involves.--presentation of facts.--organization and evaluation of knowledge.--interpretation and elaboration of truth.--inspiration to high ideals.--encouragement and direction given to expression.--discovery of pupils' better selves.--inspiration of example as well as precept.--application of truths taught in lives of pupils. the query, "what constitutes teaching?" cannot be answered off-hand. it is so complex an art, so fine an art, as professor driggs points out, that it has to be pondered to be understood and appreciated. it is often considered to be mere lesson-hearing and lesson-giving. the difference between mere instructions and teaching is as great as the distinction between eating and digestion. the following definition of _teaching_, contributed by a former state superintendent of schools, is rich in suggestion: "teaching is the process of training an individual through the formation of habits, the acquisition of knowledge, the inculcation of ideals, and the fixing of permanent interests so that he shall become a clean, intelligent, self-supporting member of society, who has the power to govern himself, can participate in noble enjoyments, and has the desire and the courage to revere god and serve his fellows." teaching does not merely consist of an inquisition of questions with appropriate answers thrown in; it surely is not mere reading; nor can it be mistaken for preaching or lecturing. these are all means that may be employed in the process of teaching. and they are important, too. we have been cautioned much, of late years, not to lose ourselves in the process of doling out facts--but that rather we should occupy ourselves teaching boys and girls. that all sounds well--the writer of these lessons has himself proclaimed this doctrine--but we have discovered that you cannot teach boys and girls _nothing_. they no more can be happy _listening_ to _nothing_ than they can be content _doing nothing_. and so we now urge the significance of having a rich supply of subject matter--a substantial content of lesson material. but the doctrine holds that the teacher ought not to lose himself in mere facts--they are merely the medium through which he arrives at, and drives home the truth. "it is the teacher's task to make changes for the better in the abilities, habits and attitudes of boys and girls. her efficiency can be evaluated fairly only in terms of her success at this task. in other words, if a teacher is rated at all, she should be rated not only by the clothes she wears, or the method she chooses, but by the results she secures."--_journal of educational research_, may, . we have said that teaching is a complex art. it consists of at least these eight fundamentals, each one of which, or any combination of which, may be featured in any one particular lesson: . presentation of facts. . organization and evaluation of knowledge. . interpretation and elaboration of truth. . inspiration to high ideals. . encouragement and direction given to expression. . discovery of pupils' better selves. . inspiration of example as well as precept. . application of truths taught in lives of the pupils. i. presentation of facts facts constitute the background upon which the mind operates. there may be many or few--they may be presented in a lecture of thirty minutes, in the reading of a dozen pages, or they may be called forth out of the mind by a single stimulating question. but we ought not to confuse the issue. if we are to discuss any matter in the hope of reaching a conclusion in truth, we must have material upon which the mind can build that conclusion. we are not concerned in this chapter with method of procedure in getting the facts before a class--the important thought here is that the facts in rich abundance should be supplied. a certain young lady protested recently against going to sunday school. her explanation of her attitude is best expressed in her own words: "i get sick and tired of going to a class where i never hear anything new or worth while." exaggerated, of course, but students are crying for bread, and ought not to be turned away with a stone. ii. organization and evaluation of knowledge we have hinted that a lesson may not have facts enough to justify the time it takes--there is, on the other hand, danger that the whole time of the class may be consumed in a mere rehearsal of facts as facts. only recently a significant complaint was voiced by a young man who has gone through training in practically all of our organizations. "i don't seem to know anything at all," he said, "about the history of israel, as a whole. i can recall certain isolated facts about particular persons or places, but i can't give any intelligent answer at all to such questions as these: "who were the israelites? what were their big movements relative to the promised land? what is the history of israel up to the time of the savior? what is their history subsequently? are we of israel and how?" the young man was not complaining--he merely regretted his ignorance on points of vital interest. he was in need of further organization of the knowledge he had. he had not been given the big central ideas about which to build the minor ones. relative importance had not been taught him through that organized review that is so valuable in review. the teacher ought to come back time and again to pause on the big essentials--the peaks of gospel teaching. iii. interpretation and elaboration of truth it is really surprising how many various notions of an idea will be carried away by the members of a class from a single declaration on the part of a teacher. a phase of a subject may be presented which links up with a particular experience of one of the pupils. to him there is only one interpretation. to another pupil the phase of the subject presented might make no appeal at all, or linked up with a different experience might lead to an entirely different conclusion. truths need to be elaborated and interpreted from all possible angles--all possible phases should be developed. an interesting discussion recently took place with a young man who had "gone off" on a pet doctrinal theory. his whole conception built itself up about a single passage of scripture. satisfied with a single notion, he had shut his eyes to all else and "knew that he was right." properly to be taught, he needed to be trained to suspend his judgment until _all the evidence_ was in. iv. inspiration to high ideals men and women like to be carried to the heights. they like to be lifted out of their lower selves into what they may become. it is the teacher's delight to let his class stand tip-toe on the facts of subject matter to peep into the glories of the gospel plan of life and salvation. in sanford bell, of the university of colorado, reported the results of a survey conducted with men and women to ascertain whether they liked male or female teachers better and just what it was that made them like those teachers who had meant most in their lives. the survey showed that the following influences stood out in the order named: moral uplift. inspiration. stimulus to intellectual awakening. spur to scholarship. help in getting a firm grip on the vital issues of life. personal kindness. encouragement in crises. what a testimonial to the force of inspiration to higher ideals! v. encouragement and direction given to pupils' expression most pupils in class are ordinarily inclined to sit silently by and let someone else do the talking. and yet, everyone enjoys participating in a lesson when once "the ice is broken." it is the teacher's task first of all to create an atmosphere of easy expression and then later to help make that expression adequate and effective. the bishop of one of our wards in southern utah declared, not long ago, that he traced the beginning of his testimony back to a primary lesson in which a skillful teacher led him to commit himself very enthusiastically to the notion that the lord does answer prayers. he said he defended the proposition so vigorously that he set about to make sure from experience that he was right. the details of securing this expression will be more fully worked out in the chapter on methods of the recitation. vi. discovery of pupils' better selves one of the most fascinating problems in teaching is to come to know the real nature of our pupils--to get below surface appearances to the very boy himself. most of the work of solving this problem necessarily must be done out of class. such intimate knowledge is the result of personal contact when no barriers of class recitation interfere. it involves time and effort, of course, but it is really the key to genuine teaching. it makes possible what we have named as factor number eight, which may be disposed of here for present purposes. we read of bygone days largely because in them we hope to find a solution to the problems of jimmie livingston today. how can we effect the solution if all that we know of jimmie is that he is one of our fifteen scouts? we must see him in action, must associate with him as he encounters his problems, if we would help him solve them. our discovery of our pupils' better selves, and intelligent application, go together hand in hand. vii. inspiration of example as well as precept when emerson declared, "what you are thunders so loudly in my ears that i can't hear what you say," he sounded a mighty note to teachers. hundreds of boys and girls have been stimulated to better lives by the desire "to be like teacher." "come, follow me," is the great password to the calling of teacher. the teacher conducts a class on sunday morning--he really teaches all during the week. when elbert hubbard added his new commandment, "remember the week-days, to keep them holy," he must have had teachers in mind. a student in one of our church schools was once heard to say, "my teacher teaches me more religion by the way he plays basketball than by the way he teaches theology." it was what jesus did that made him savior of the world. he was the greatest _teacher_ because he was the greatest man. surely teaching is a complex art! * * * * * questions and suggestions--chapter ii . what is teaching? . why is it essential that we get a clear conception of just what teaching is? . discuss the importance of building the recitation upon a good foundation of facts. . why are facts alone not a guarantee of a successful recitation? . what is the teacher's obligation in the matter of organizing knowledge? . discuss the significance of teaching as an interpretation of truth. . discuss the teacher's obligation to discover pupils' better selves. . what is the relative importance of expression and impression in teaching? helpful references betts, _how to teach religion_; gregory, _the seven laws of teaching_; thorndike, _principles of teaching_; brumbaugh, _the making of a teacher_; strayer and norsworthy, _how to teach_. chapter iii the joys of teaching outline--chapter iii the joys that attend teaching: enrichment of the spirit.--guarantee of the teacher's own growth and development.--restraining and uplifting influence on the moral character of the teacher.--satisfaction that attends seeing pupils develop.--inspirational companionship.--contentment that attaches to duty done.--outpouring of the blessings of the lord. chapters one and two emphasized the thought that the purposes behind teaching impose a sacred obligation on the part of those who aspire to teach. but lest the obligation appear burdensome, let us remind ourselves that compensation is one of the great laws of life. "to him who gives shall be given" applies to teaching as to few other things. verily he who loses his life finds it. the devotion of the real teacher, though it involves labor, anxiety and sacrifice, is repaid ten-fold. only he who has fully given himself in service to others can appreciate the joy that attends teaching--particularly that teaching enjoined upon us by the master and which is its own recompense. it is difficult to enumerate all of the blessings that attend the service of the teacher, but let us consider a few that stand out pre-eminently. if there were none other than this first one it would justify all that is done in the name of teaching; namely, "the enrichment of spirit." "there is a spirit in man: and the inspiration of the almighty giveth them understanding." to feel the thrill of that inspiration is a compensation beyond price. the lord, having commanded us to teach (see sec. : - , doc. & cov.), has followed the command with the promise of a blessing, one of the richest in all scripture. "for thus saith the lord, i, the lord, am merciful and gracious unto those who fear me, and delight to honor those who serve me in righteousness and in truth unto the end; "great shall be their reward and eternal shall be their glory; "and to them will i reveal all mysteries, yea, all the hidden mysteries of my kingdom from days of old, and for ages to come will i make known unto them the good pleasure of my will concerning all things pertaining to my kingdom; "yea, even the wonders of eternity shall they know, and things to come will i show them, even the things of many generations; "and their wisdom shall be great, and their understanding reach to heaven: and before them the wisdom of the wise shall perish, and the understanding of the prudent shall come to naught; "for by my spirit will i enlighten them, and by my power will i make known unto them the secrets of my will; yea, even those things which eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor yet entered into the heart of man." (doc. & cov. : - .) this constitutes a promissory note signed by our heavenly father himself. a blessing beyond compare--a dividend unfailing--and our only investment--devoted service! companionship with the spirit of the lord! that is what it means, if we serve him in faith and humility. "be thou humble, and the lord thy god shall lead thee by the hand, and give thee answer to thy prayers." (doc. & cov., sec. : .) like all other gifts and attainments, the spirit of the lord has to be cultivated. teaching insures a cultivation as few other things in life can. an enriched spirit, then, is the first great reward of the teacher. a second satisfaction is the guarantee of one's own growth and development. teachers invariably declare that they have learned more, especially in the first year of teaching, than in any year at college. a consciousness of the fact that it is hard to teach that which is not well known incites that type of study which makes for growth. a good class is a great "pace-setter." intellectually it has the pull of achievement. the real teacher always is the greatest student in the class. the "drive" of having a regular task to perform, especially when that task is checked up as it is by students, leads many a person to a development unknown to him who is free to slide. "blessed is he who has to do things." responsibility is the great force that builds character. compare the relative development of the person who spends tuesday evening at home with the evening paper, or at some other pastime, and of the person who, having accepted fully the call to teach, leads a class of truth-seekers through an hour's discussion of some vital subject. follow the development through the tuesday evenings of a lifetime. how easy to understand that there are varying degrees of glory hereafter. a third value of teaching lies in the fact that the position of teacher exercises a restraining influence for good on the moral life of the teacher. he is sustained by a consciousness that his conduct is his only evidence to his pupils that his practice is consistent with his theory. his class follows him in emulation or in criticism in all that he does. "come, follow me," lifts the real teacher over the pitfalls of temptation. he cannot do forbidden work on the sabbath, he cannot indulge in the use of tobacco, he cannot stoop to folly--his class stands between him and all these things. a teacher recently gave expression to the value of this restraining force when she said, "i urge my girls so vigorously not to go to the movies on sunday that i find my conscience in rebellion if anyone asks me to go." many a man in attempting to convert another to the righteousness of a particular issue has found himself to be his own best convert. he comes to appreciate the fact that the trail he establishes is the path followed by those whom he influences. he hears the voice of the child as recorded in the little poem: i stepped in your steps all the way "a father and his tiny son crossed a rough street one stormy day, 'see papa!' cried the little one, 'i stepped in your steps all the way!' "ah, random, childish hands, that deal quick thrusts no coat of proof could stay! it touched him with the touch of steel-- 'i stepped in your steps all the way!' "if this man shirks his manhood's due and heeds what lying voices say, it is not one who falls, but two, 'i stepped in your steps all the way!' "but they who thrust off greed and fear, who love and watch, who toil and pray, how their hearts carol when they say, 'i stepped in your steps all the way!'" still another joy that attends teaching is the satisfaction of seeing pupils develop. the sculptor finds real happiness in watching his clay take on the form and expression of his model; the artist glories as his colors grow into life; the parent finds supreme joy in seeing himself "re-grow" in his child; so the teacher delights to see his pupils build their lives on the truths he has taught. the joy is doubly sweet if it is heightened by an expression of appreciation on the part of the pupils. few experiences can bring the thrill of real happiness that comes to the teacher when a former student, once perhaps a little inclined to mischief or carelessness, takes him by the hand with a "god bless you for helping me find my better self." an officer of the british army, in recounting those experiences which had come to him in the recent world war, and which he said he never could forget, referred to one which more than compensated him for all the effort he had ever put into his preparation for teaching. because of his position in the army it became his duty to discipline a group of boys for what in the army is a serious offense. in that group was a boy who had formerly been a pupil under the officer in one of our ward organizations. chagrin was stamped on the face of the boy as he came forward for reprimand. regret and remorse were in the heart of the officer. they soon gave way to pride, however, as the boy assured him that worse than any punishment was the humiliation of being brought before his own teacher, and he further assured him that never again would he do a thing that would mar the sacred relations of pupil and teacher. a further compensation attached to teaching is that of inspirational companionship. it is a blessed privilege to enjoy the sunshine of youth. every pupil contributes an association with one of god's choice spirits. to live and work with children and adolescents is one of the finest of safeguards against old age. the teacher not only partakes of the joy of his group--they constitute him a link between his generation and theirs. their newness of life, their optimism, their spontaneity, their joy, they gladly pass on to their teacher. moreover, the teacher enjoys the uplifting associations of his fellow teachers. among those consecrated to a noble service, there is a spirit unknown to him who has not enjoyed such communion. whether he is conscious of it or not, the teacher responds to the pull of such a group. scores of teachers have testified that the associations they have enjoyed as members of a local board, stake board, or general board, are among the happiest of their lives. and finally there is the contentment of mind that comes as a result of a duty well done. the human soul is so constituted that any task well performed brings a feeling of satisfaction, and this is doubly heightened when the duty performed is of the nature of a free will offering. still more so when it is shared in by others to their blessing. just as we hope for an eventual crowning under the blessing, "well done, thou good and faithful servant," so we treasure those benedictions along the way that attend the discharge of a sacred obligation. * * * * * questions and suggestions--chapter iii . quote some of the promises of the lord to those who do his will. . how is teaching one of the surest guarantees of the blessings of eternal life? . what are the immediate joys attached to teaching? . discuss the application to teaching of the truth--"he who loses his life shall find it." . what types of companionship are assured him who teaches? . as you now recall them, what distinct pleasures stand out in your teaching experience? . discuss section of the doctrine & covenants as one of the most valuable promissory notes ever given to mankind. . discuss the force of a duty done as a guarantee of joy. helpful references doctrine and covenants: slattery, _living teachers_; sharp, _education for character_; weigle, _talks to sunday school teachers_; betts, _how to teach religion_. chapter iv personality outline--chapter iv the worth of a great teacher.--good teachers not necessarily born.--some boys' observations on teachers.--a high school survey.--clapp's _essential characteristics_.--betts' _three classes of teachers_.--his list of qualities. "a great teacher is worth more to a state, though he teach by the roadside, than a faculty of mediocrities housed in gothic piles."--_chicago tribune_, september, . we may stress the sacred obligation of the teacher; we may discuss in detail mechanical processes involved in lesson preparation; we may analyze child nature in all of its complexity; but after all we come back to the _personality of the teacher_ as the great outstanding factor in pedagogical success. _that something in the man_ that grips people! very generally this _personal equation_ has been looked upon as a certain indefinable possession enjoyed by the favored few. in a certain sense this is true. personality is largely inherent in the individual and therefore differs as fully as do individuals. but of recent years educators have carried on extensive investigations in this field of personality and have succeeded in reducing to comprehensible terms those qualities which seem to be most responsible for achievements of successful teachers. observation leads us all to similar deductions and constitutes one of the most interesting experiments open to those concerned with the teaching process. why, with the same amount of preparation, does one teacher succeed with a class over which another has no control at all? why is it that one class is crowded each week, while another adjourns for lack of membership? the writer a short time ago, after addressing the members of a ward m.i.a., asked a group of scouts to remain after the meeting, to whom he put the question, "what is it that you like or dislike in teachers?" the group was a thoroughly typical group--real boys, full of life and equally full of frankness. they contributed the following replies: . we like a fellow that's full of pep. . we like a fellow that doesn't preach all the time. . we like a fellow that makes us be good. . we like a fellow that tells us new things. boylike, they were "strong" for pep--a little word with a big significance. vigor, enthusiasm, sense of humor, attack, forcefulness--all of these qualities are summed up in these three letters. and the interesting thing is that while the boys liked to be told new things, they didn't want to be preached at. they evidently had the boy's idea of preaching who characterized it as, "talking a lot when you haven't anything to say." still more interesting is the fact that boys like to be made to be good. in spite of their fun and their seeming indifference they really are serious in a desire to subscribe to the laws of order that make progress possible. a principal of the granite high school carried on an investigation through a period of four years to ascertain just what it is that students like in teachers. during those years students set down various attributes and qualities, which are summarized below just as they were given: _desirable characteristics_ congeniality. broadmindedness. wide knowledge. personality that makes discipline easy. willingness to entertain questions. realization that students need help. sense of humor--ability to take a joke. optimism--cheerfulness. sympathy. originality. progressiveness. effective expression. pleasing appearance--"good looking." tact. patience. sincerity. among the characteristics which they did not like in teachers they named the following: _undesirable characteristics_ grouchiness. wandering in method. indifference to need for help. too close holding to the text. distant attitude--aloofness. partiality. excitability. irritability. pessimism--"in the dumps." indifferent assignments. hazy explanations. failure to cover assignments. distracting facial expressions. attitude of "lording it over." sarcasm. poor taste in dress. bluffing--"the tables turned." discipline for discipline's sake. "holier than thouness." _desirable capabilities_ they also reduced to rather memorable phrases a half dozen desirable capabilities: . the ability to make students work and want to work. . the ability to make definite assignments. . the ability to make clear explanations. . the ability to be pleasant without being easy. . the ability to emphasize essentials. . the ability to capitalize on new ideas. . the ability to be human. a number of years ago clapp conducted a similar survey among one hundred leading school men of america, asking them to list the ten most essential characteristics of a good teacher. from the lists sent in clapp compiled the ten qualities in the order named most frequently by the one hundred men: . sympathy. . address. . enthusiasm. . sincerity. . personal appearance. . optimism. . scholarship. . vitality. . fairness. . reserve or dignity. george herbert betts, in his stimulating book, _how to teach religion_, says there are three classes of teachers: "two types of teachers are remembered: one to be forgiven after years have softened the antagonisms and resentments; the other to be thought of with honor and gratitude as long as memory lasts. between these two is a third and a larger group: those who are forgotten, because they failed to stamp a lasting impression on their pupils. this group represents the mediocrity of the profession, not bad enough to be actively forgiven, not good enough to claim a place in gratitude and remembrance." mr. betts then goes on with a very exhaustive list of positive and negative qualities in teachers--a list so valuable that we set it down here for reference. _positive qualities_ _negative qualities_ . open-minded, inquiring, broad. narrow, dogmatic, not hungry for truth. . accurate, thorough, discerning. indefinite, superficial, lazy. . judicious, balanced, fair. prejudiced, led by likes and dislikes. . original, independent, dependent, imitative, subservient. resourceful. . decisive, possessing convictions. uncertain, wavering, undecided. . cheerful, joyous, optimistic. gloomy, morose, pessimistic, bitter. . amiable, friendly, agreeable. repellent, unsociable, disagreeable. . democratic, broadly sympathetic. snobbish, self-centered, exclusive. . tolerant, sense of humor, opinionated, dogmatic, intolerant. generous. . kind, courteous, tactful. cruel, rude, untactful. . tractable, co-operative, stubborn, not able to work with teachable. others. . loyal, honorable, dependable. disloyal, uncertain dependability. . executive, forceful, vigorous. uncertain, weak, not capable. . high ideals, worthy, exalted. low standards, base, contemptible. . modest, self-effacing. egotistical, vain, autocratic. . courageous, daring, firm. overcautious, weak, vacillating. . honest, truthful, frank, low standards of honor and truth. sincere. . patient, calm, equable. irritable, excitable, moody. . generous, open-hearted, stingy, selfish, resentful. forgiving. . responsive, congenial. cold, repulsive, uninviting. . punctual, on schedule, capable. tardy, usually behindhand, incapable. . methodical, consistent, logical. haphazard, desultory, inconsistent. . altruistic, given to service. indifferent, not socially minded. . refined, alive to beauty, coarse, lacking aesthetic quality. artistic. . self-controlled, decision, suggestible, easily led, uncertain. purpose. . good physical carriage, dignity. lack of poise, ill posture, no grace. . taste in attire, cleanliness, careless in dress, frumpy, no pride. pride. . face smiling, voice pleasant. somber expression, voice unpleasant. . physical endurance, vigor, quickly tired, weak, sluggish. strength. . spiritual responsiveness, spiritually weak, inconstant, strong. uncertain. . prayer life warm, satisfying. prayer cold, formal, little comfort. . religious certainty, peace, conflict, strain, uncertainty. quiet. . religious experience expanding. spiritual life static or losing force. . god a near, inspiring reality. god distant, unreal, hard of approach. . power to win others to religion. influence little or negative. . interest in bible and religion. little concern for religion and bible. . religion makes life fuller and religion felt as a limitation. richer. . deeply believe great lacking in foundations for faith. fundamentals. . increasing triumph over sin. too frequent falling before temptation. . religious future hopeful. religious growth uncertain. * * * * * questions and suggestions--chapter iv . think of the teachers who stand out most clearly in your memory. why do they so stand out? . name the qualities that made the savior the _great teacher_. . if you had to choose between a fairly capable but humble teacher, and a very capable but conceited one, which one would be your choice? why? . what is your argument against the idea, "teachers are born, not made"? . discuss the relative significance of the qualities quoted from betts. helpful references o'shea, _every-day problems in teaching_; betts, _how to teach religion_; brumbaugh, _the making of a teacher_; palmer, _the ideal teacher_; slattery, _living teachers_; weigle, _talks to sunday school teachers_. chapter v personality outline--chapter v the six major qualities:--a. sympathy.--b. sincerity.--c. optimism.--d. scholarly attitude.--e. vitality.--f. spirituality. to set about to cultivate separate qualities would be rather a discouraging undertaking. as a matter of fact, many of the characteristics named really overlap, while others are secondary in importance. for practical purposes let us enlarge upon five or six qualities which everyone will agree are fundamental to teaching success. the class in teacher training, at the brigham young university, in the summer of , named these six as the most fundamental: . sympathy. . sincerity. . optimism. . scholarly attitude. . vitality. . spirituality. no attempt was made to set them down in the order of relative importance. . sympathy this is a very broad and far-reaching term. it rests upon experience and imagination and involves the ability to live, at least temporarily, someone else's life. sympathy is fundamentally vicarious. properly to sympathize with children a man must re-live in memory his own childhood or he must have the power of imagination to see things through their eyes. many a teacher has condemned pupils for doing what to them was perfectly normal. we too frequently persist in viewing a situation from our own point of view rather than in going around to the other side to look at it as our pupils see it. it is no easy matter thus "to get out of ourselves" and become a boy or girl again, but it is worth the effort. along with this ability at vicarious living, sympathy involves an interest in others. sympathy is a matter of concern in the affairs of others. the rush and stir of modern life fairly seem to force us to focus our attention upon self, but if we would succeed as teachers, we must make ourselves enter into the lives of our pupils out of an interest to see how they conduct their lives, and the reasons for such conduct. coupled with this interest in others and the imagination to see through their eyes, sympathy involves a desire to help them. a man may have an interest in people born out of mere curiosity or for selfish purposes, but if he has sympathy for them, he must be moved with a desire to help and to bless them. and, finally, sympathy involves the actual doing of something by way of service. president grant liked to refer to a situation wherein a particular person was in distress. friends of all sorts came along expressing regret and professing sympathy. finally a fellow stepped forward and said, "i feel to sympathize with this person to the extent of fifty dollars." "that man," said president grant, "has sympathy in his heart as well as in his purse." . sincerity surely this is a foundation principle in teaching: "thou must to thyself be true, if thou the truth would teach; thy soul must overflow, if thou another soul would reach." a teacher must really be converted to what he teaches or there is a hollowness to all that he utters. "children and dogs," it is said, are the great judges of sincerity--they instinctively know a friend. no teacher can continue to stand on false ground before his pupils. the superintendent of one of our sunday schools, having selected one of the most talented persons in his ward to teach a second intermediate class was astonished some months later to receive a request from the class for a change of teachers. the class could assign no specific reasons for their objections, except that they didn't get anything out of the class. a year later the superintendent learned that the teacher was living in violation of the regulations of the church, on a particular principle, and it was perfectly clear why his message didn't ring home. the sincere teacher not only believes what he teaches--he consecrates his best efforts to the task in hand. he urges no excuse for absence or lack of preparation--"he is there." he lets his class feel that for the time being it is his greatest concern. he meets with boys and girls because he loves to and reaches out to them with an enthusiasm that cannot be questioned. . optimism is the sunshine of the classroom. it is as natural to expect a plant to develop when covered with a blanket as it is to expect a class to be full of activity and responsiveness under an influence of unnatural solemnity. lincoln is quoted as having declared, "you can catch more flies with a drop of honey than with a gallon of vinegar"--a homely expression, but full of suggestion. a grouch is no magnet. a little girl when questioned why she liked her sunday school teacher said, "oh, she always smiles at me and says, hello." there is contagion in the cheeriness of a smile that cannot be resisted. children live so naturally in an atmosphere of happiness and fun that teachers of religious instruction may well guard against making their work too formally sober. frequently teachers feel the seriousness of their undertaking so keenly that they worry or discipline themselves into a state of pedagogical unnaturalness. there is very great force behind the comment of the student who appreciated the teacher who could be human. the experience is told of a teacher who continued to have difficulty with one of her pupils. he so persisted in violating regulations that he was kept in after school regularly, and yet after school hours he was one of the most helpful lads in the school; in fact, he and the teacher seemed almost chummy. struck by the difference in his attitude, the teacher remarked to him one afternoon, as he went about cleaning the blackboard, "jimmie, i have just been wondering about you. you're one of my best workers after school--i can't understand how you can be so different during school hours and after." "gee, that's funny," put in jimmie, "i was just thinking the same thing about you." to be cheerful without being easy is a real art. liberty is so often converted into license, and a spirit of fun so easily transformed into mischief and disorder. and yet cheerfulness is the great key to the human heart. an attitude of looking for the good in pupils will lead to a response of friendliness on their part which is the basis of all teaching. . scholarly attitude if a teacher would cultivate an appetite for learning among his pupils he must himself hunger for knowledge. most young people will "take intellectually if sufficiently exposed." a scholarly attitude implies first of all a growing mastery of subject matter. to quote an eminent writer on religious education, "a common bane of sunday school teaching has been the haziness of the teacher's own ideas concerning the truths of religion." fancy the hostess who would invite her guests to a dinner, and upon their arrival indicate to them that she had made only vague plans to receive them. no special place for their wraps, no entertainment for their amusement, and then fancy her asking them to sit down to a warmed-up conglomeration of left-overs. of course, it is only in fancy that we can imagine such a service. yet reports frequently indicate that there are class recitations, intellectual banquets, for which the preparation has been about as meagre as that indicated. surely he who would feast others upon his word should prepare unceasingly. let us keep in mind the comment--"we like the fellow who tells us something new." along with this mastery of subject matter, a scholarly attitude implies both broadmindedness and openmindedness. seekers after truth should welcome it from all available sources, and ought not to be handicapped by bias or prejudice. tolerance and a willingness to entertain questions--a constant effort to view a subject from every possible angle--a poise that attends self-control even under stress of annoyance--these things are all involved in a truly scholarly attack upon any given problem. . vitality one of the qualities most favorably and frequently commented on by students is what they call "pep." a certain vigor of attack that seems to go directly to the point at stake, putting at rest all other business and making discipline unnecessary, is what twentieth century young people seem to like. the element of hero worship prompts them to demand that the leader shall "do things." they like the "push" that takes a man over the top, the drive that wins a ball game, the energy that stamps the business man with success. vitality is an inherent factor in leadership. . spirituality the crowning glory of the successful religious teacher is that spiritual glow which links up heaven and earth. "and the spirit shall be given unto you by the power of faith, and if ye receive not the spirit, ye shall not teach." (doc. & cov., sec. : .) this divine injunction is given us because we have undertaken to teach his gospel. we would lead others to him. and this is possible only as we lead by the light of his holy spirit. above our knowledge of facts and our understanding of child nature must be placed our communion with that spirit which touches the hearts of men. if a teacher would prepare a young man for a place in a modern business house he must teach him the ways of business,--buying, selling, collecting, managing, etc.,--matters of fact, governed by the laws of barter and trade. if that same teacher would teach the same young man the way of eternal life, he must substitute for the laws of man the word of the lord, and for the spirit of exchange, the spirit of heaven. a pupil can be prepared for the kingdom of god only as he is led to respond to and appreciate his spirit, and to do his will. while it is true that the best way to prepare for heaven is to live the best possible life here on earth, yet we need the spirit of the lord to interpret what constitutes that best possible life. there is power in the intellect of man; there is glory in that power when it is heightened by the spirit of the almighty. * * * * * questions and suggestions--chapter v . what is sympathy? . why is it so essential in teaching? . why is sincerity a foundation principle in all teaching? . discuss the obligation on the part of the teacher to leave his troubles outside the classroom. . discuss the statement--"cheerfulness is spiritual sunshine." . illustrate the value of cheerfulness. . what is the significance of the term, scholarly attitude? . just what constitutes vitality? . show how it is essential to teaching. . why name spirituality as the crowning characteristic of the good teacher? helpful references those listed in chapter iv. chapter vi attainment outline--chapter vi the possibility of growth in teaching.--how to develop spirituality: a. by cultivating the spirit of prayer; b. by leading a clean life; c. by obeying the principles of the gospel; d. by performing one's duty in the church; e. by reading and pondering the word of the lord.--how to develop other qualities: a. by taking a personal inventory; b. by coming in contact with the best in life through reading and companionship; c. by forming the habit of systematic study; d. by assuming responsibility. while we may agree as to what constitutes the desirable characteristics in teachers it is far easier to name them than to attain them. we have already pointed out that teaching is a complex art proficiency in which is the result of a long, painstaking process. but success in teaching as in all other pursuits is possible of achievement. we have heard so frequently that teachers must be born, not made, that many prospective teachers, feeling that they have been denied this pedagogical birthright, give up in despair. of course, it is naturally easy for some individuals to teach--they do seem born possessed of a teaching personality, but they are not given a monopoly on the profession. the lord has too many children to be taught to leave their instruction to a few favored ones. the qualities listed in chapter five may be developed, in varying degrees, of course, by any normal person anxious to serve his fellows. the "will to do" is the great key to success. to him who would develop spiritually, these five suggestions may be helpful: first, cultivate the spirit of prayer. the president of one of our stakes made the remark once that he believed only a few of the men and women of his stake really pray. "they go through the form, all right," he said; "they repeat the words--but they do not enter into the spirit of the prayer. if the lord doesn't draw nearer to them than they do to him i doubt that their prayers are really of very great force." the ability to pray is the great test of a spiritual life. "the faith to pray" is a gift to be cultivated through devoted practice. the teacher who would have his pupils draw nearer to him must himself draw near to the lord. the promise, "ask, and ye shall receive, seek, and ye shall find," was given only to those who ask in faith. this constant prayer of faith, then is the first great guarantee of the spirit. the second is a clean life. just as it is impossible for water to make its way through a dirty, clogged pipe, so it is for the spirit to flow through a channel of unrighteous desires. a visitor was interested a short time ago in canada in attempting to get a drink out of a pipe that had been installed to carry water from a spring in the side of a mountain to a pool at the side of the road. due to neglect, moss and filth had been allowed to collect about the bottom of the pipe, until it was nearly choked up. getting a drink was out of the question. and yet there was plenty of water in the spring above--just as fine water as had ever flowed from that source. it was simply denied passage down to those who would drink. and so with the spirit. the lord is still able to bless--all too frequently, we so live that "the passage is clogged." the word of wisdom is not only a guarantee of health--it is the key to communication with the spirit. and what is true of the body applies with even greater force to cleanliness of mind. the teacher might well adopt this prayer: "create in me a clean heart, o god, and renew a right spirit within me." the third great guarantee of the spirit is an unswerving obedience to all principles of the gospel. to teach belief a man must believe. firmly grounded in all the cardinal principles the teacher may well inspire a spirit of the gospel, but not otherwise. doubt and uncertainty will keep the teacher from the position of counsel and leadership. the fourth assurance in the matter of developing spirituality is the consistent performance of one's religious obligations. the complaint is often made that teachers in a particular organization will meet their classes regularly, but that done they seem to consider their religious duties discharged. teaching does not excuse a person from attending the other services required of latter-day saints. he is asked to attend sacrament meetings, priesthood meetings, union meetings, special preparation meetings--they are all essential to the full development of the spirit of the gospel, which is the spirit of teaching. the teacher may rightly expect to be sustained only as he sustains those who preside over him. "for with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again." (matt. : .) and finally, if we would enjoy the spirit of our work we must familiarize ourselves with the word of the lord. to read it is to associate in thought with him. his spirit pervades all that he has said, whether in ancient or modern times. one of our apostles frequently remarked that if he would feel fully in touch with the spirit of his calling he must read regularly from the doctrine & covenants. "that book keeps me attuned as no other book can." it is not given to us to associate here with the master, but through his recorded words we can live over all that he once lived. thereby we not only come really to know what he would have us do, we partake of a spirit that surpasses understanding. "search the scriptures, for in them ye think ye have eternal life." as for attainment in other matters involved in the teaching process, the teachers who attended the course at the brigham young university were agreed that regular practice in the following processes will insure marked growth and development: . the taking of a personal inventory at regular intervals. "am i the kind of teacher i should like to go to?" starts an investigation full of suggestiveness. the qualities listed in chapter four constitute a reference chart for analysis. a teacher can become his own best critic if he sets up the proper ideals by way of a standard. a teacher in one of our church schools in idaho carried out an interesting investigation during the year - . anxious that he should not monopolize the time in his recitations, he asked one of his students to tabulate the time of the class period as follows: number of questions asked by teacher. number of questions asked by pupils. amount of time consumed by teacher. amount of time consumed by pupils. he was astonished to discover that of the forty-five minutes given to recitation he was regularly using an average of thirty-two minutes. similar investigations can be carried on by any interested teacher. . contact with the best in life. it is a fundamental law in life that life is an adaptation to environment. the writer has been interested in observing the force of this law as it affects animal life. lizards in emery county are slate-gray in color that they may be less conspicuous on a background of clay and gray sandstone; the same animals in st. george take on a reddish color--an adaptation to their environment of red sandstone. nor is the operation of this law merely a physical process. on a trip into canada recently the writer traveled some distance with a group of bankers in attendance at a convention at great falls. on his way home he took a train on which there was a troupe of vaudeville players. the contrast was too marked to escape notice. one group had responded to an environment of sober business negotiations--the other to the gayety of the footlights. and so the teacher who would grow must put himself into an environment that makes the kind of growth he desires natural--inevitable. through good books he can associate with the choice spirits of all ages. no one denies his acquaintanceship. great men have given their best thoughts to many of the problems that confront us. we can capitalize on their wisdom by reading their books. we re-enforce ourselves with their strength. magazines, too, are full of stimulation. they constitute a kind of intellectual clearing house for the best thought of the world today. business houses value them so highly in promoting the advancement of their employees that they subscribe regularly. one manager remarked: "no one factor makes for greater growth among my men than reading the achievements of others--leaders in their lines--through the magazines." there is scarcely a phase of life which is not being fully written about in the current issues of the leading magazines. then, too, contact with men and women of achievement is a remarkable stimulus to growth. there are leaders in every community--men and women rich in experience--who will gladly discuss the vital issues of life with those who approach them. there still remain, too, pioneers with their wonderful stories of sacrifice and devotion. to the teacher who will take the pains there is an untold wealth of material in the lives of the men and women about him. . regular habits of systematic study. thorough intensive effort finds its best reward in the intellectual growth that it insures. in these days of the hurry of business and the whirl of commercialized amusements there is little time left for study except for him who makes himself subscribe to a system of work. thirty minutes of concentrated effort a day works wonders in the matter of growth. president grant was a splendid evidence of the force of persistent effort in his writing, his business success, and his rise to the leadership of half a million latter-day saints. . assuming the obligations of responsibility. in every organization there are constant calls upon teachers to perform laborious tasks. it is so natural to seek to avoid them--so easy to leave them for somebody else--that we have to cultivate vigorously a habit of accepting the obligations that present themselves. the difficulties of responsibility are often burdensome, but they are an essential guarantee of achievement. "welcome the task that makes you go beyond your ordinary self, if you would grow!" * * * * * questions and suggestions--chapter vi . discuss our obligation to grow. . point out the difference between praying and merely saying prayers. . discuss the various means which guarantee spiritual growth. . comment on the thought that a personal inventory is as essential to teaching as it is to financial success. . what is your daily scheme for systematic study? . what plan do you follow in an attempt to know the scriptures? . why is it so important that we assume the responsibilities placed upon us? helpful references those listed in chapter iv. chapter vii native tendencies outline--chapter vii importance of child study to teachers.--teaching both a social and an individual process.--a child's characteristics--his birthright.--what the nervous system is.--types of original responses.--the significance of instinctive action.--colvin's list of native tendencies.--sisson's list.--a knowledge of native tendencies essential to proper control of human behavior. we have now discussed the significance and meaning of teaching, together with the consideration of the characteristics that constitute the personal equation of the teacher. it is now pertinent that we give some attention to the nature of the child to be taught, that we may the more intelligently discuss methods of teaching, or how teacher and pupil get together in an exchange of knowledge. teaching is a unique process. it is both social and individual. the teacher meets a class--a collection of pupils in a social unit. in one way he is concerned with them generally--he directs group action. but in addition to this social aspect, the problem involves his giving attention to each individual in the group. he may put a general question, but he gets an individual reply. in short, he must be aware of the fact that his pupils, for purposes of recitation, are all alike; and at the same time he must appreciate the fact that they are peculiarly different. in a later chapter we shall consider these differences; let us here consider the points of similarity. the fact that a boy is a boy makes him heir to all of the characteristics that man has developed. these characteristics are his birthright. he responds in a particular way to stimuli because the race before him has so responded. there is no need here of entering into a discussion as to how great a controlling factor heredity may be in a man's life, or how potent environment may be in modifying that life--we are concerned rather with the result--that man is as he is. it is essential that we know his characteristics, particularly as they manifest themselves in youth, so that we may know what to expect in his conduct and so that we may proceed to modify and control that conduct. just as the first task of the physician is to diagnose his case--to get at the cause of the difficulty before he proceeds to suggest a remedy--so the first consideration of the teacher is a query, "whom do i teach?" man may normally be expected to respond in a particular way to a particular stimulus because men throughout the history of the race have so responded. certain connections have been established in his nervous system and he acts accordingly--he does what he does because he is _man_. we cannot here go into a detailed discussion of the physiological processes involved in thinking and other forms of behavior, but perhaps we may well set down a statement or two relative to man's tendencies to act, and their explanations: "the nervous system is composed of neurones of three types: those that receive, the afferent; those that effect action, the efferent; and those that connect, the associative. the meeting places of these neurones are the synapses. all neurones have the three characteristics of sensitivity, conductivity, and modifiability. in order for conduct or feeling or intellect to be present, at least two neurones must be active, and in all but a few of the human activities many more are involved. the possibility of conduct or intelligence depends upon the connections at the synapses,--upon the possibility of the current affecting neurones in a certain definite way. the possession of an 'original nature,' then, means the possession, as a matter of inheritance, of certain connections between neurones, the possession of certain synapses which are in functional contact and across which a current may pass merely as a matter of structure. just why certain synapses should be thus connected is the whole question of heredity. two factors seem to affect the functional contact of a synapses,--first, proximity of the neurone ends, and second, some sort of permeability which makes a current travel on one rather than another of two neurones equally near together in space. this proximity and permeability are both provided for by the structure and constitution of the nervous system. it should be noted that the connection of neurones is not a one-to-one affair, but the multiplicity of fibrils provided by original nature makes it possible for one afferent to discharge into many neurones, and for one efferent neurone to receive the current from many neurones. thus the individual when born is equipped with potentialities of character, intellect and conduct, because of the pre-formed connections or tendencies to connections present in his nervous system. "_types of original responses._--these unlearned tendencies which make up the original nature of the human race are usually classified into automatic or physiological actions, reflexes, instincts, and capacities. automatic actions are such as those controlling the heart-beats, digestive and intestinal movements; the contraction of the pupil of the eye from light, sneezing, swallowing, etc., are reflexes; imitation, fighting, and fear, are instincts, which capacities refer to those more subtle traits by means of which an individual becomes a good linguist, or is tactful, or gains skill in handling tools. however, there is no sharp line of division between these various unlearned tendencies; what one psychologist calls a reflex or a series of reflexes, another will call an instinct. it seems better to consider them as of the same general character but differing from each other in simplicity, definiteness, uniformity of response, variableness among individuals, and modifiability. they range from movements such as the action of the blood vessels to those concerned in hunting and collecting; from the simple, definite, uniform knee-jerk, which is very similar in all people and open to very little modification, to the capacity for scholarship, which is extremely complex, vague as to definition, variable both as to manifestation in one individual and amounts amongst people in general, and is open to almost endless modification. this fund of unlearned tendencies is the capital with which each child starts, the capital which makes education and progress possible, as well as the capital which limits the extent to which progress and development in any line may proceed." _the psychology of childhood_, pp. , , . weigle, in his _talks to sunday school teachers_, begins his second chapter in a rather unique and helpful manner relative to this same question: "the little human animal, like every other, is born going. he is already wound up. his lungs expand and contract; his heart is pumping away; his stomach is ready to handle food. these organic, vital activities he does not initiate. they begin themselves. the organism possesses them by nature. they are the very conditions of life. "there are many other activities, not so obviously vital as these, for which nature winds him up quite as thoroughly--yes, and sets him to go off at the proper time for each. he will suck when brought to the breast as unfailingly as his lungs will begin to work upon contact with the air. he will cry from hunger or discomfort, clasp anything that touches his fingers or toes, carry to his mouth whatever he can grasp, in time smile when smiled at, later grow afraid when left alone or in the dark, manifest anger and affection, walk, run, play, question, imitate, collect things, pull things apart, put them together again, take pleasure in being with friends, act shy before strangers, find a chum, belong to a 'gang' or 'bunch,' quarrel, fight, become reconciled, and some day fall in love with one of the opposite sex. these, and many more, are just his natural human ways. he does not of purpose initiate them any more than he initiates breathing or heart-beat. he does these things because he is so born and built. they are his instincts." as norsworthy and whitley point out, we are not especially concerned with the boundary lines between automatic actions, reflexes, and instincts--we are rather concerned with the fact that human beings possess native tendencies to act in particular ways. some psychologists stress them as instincts; others as capacities, but they have all pretty generally agreed that under certain stimuli there are natural tendencies to react. these tendencies begin to manifest themselves at birth--they are all potentialities with the birth of the child--and continue to develop in turn, certain ones being more pronounced in the various stages of the child's life. colvin in his _the learning process_, runs through the complete list of possibilities. according to him man, in a lifetime, is characterized by the following tendencies: fear, anger, sympathy, affection, play, imitation, curiosity, acquisitiveness, constructiveness, self-assertion (leadership), self-abasement, rivalry, envy, jealousy, pugnacity, clannishness, the hunting and predatory instincts, the migratory instinct, love of adventure and the unknown, superstition, the sex instincts, which express themselves in sex-love, vanity, coquetry, modesty; and, closely allied with these, the love of nature and of solitude, and the aesthetic, the religious, and the moral emotions. sisson, in a little book that every teacher ought to know, _the essentials of character_, emphasizes the importance for teaching of ten tendencies: bodily activity, sense-hunger and curiosity, suggestibility, tastes and aesthetic appreciation, self-assertion, love, joy, fear, the growing-up impulse, the love of approbation. as already indicated, the teacher should give attention to these tendencies that he may the better know how to proceed. if he knows that the one great outstanding impulse of a boy of seven is to do something, he perhaps will be less likely to plan an hour's recitation on the theory that for that hour the boy is to do nothing. if he knows that one of the greatest tendencies of boys from ten to fourteen is to organize "gangs" for social and "political" purposes, he will very likely capitalize on this idea in building up a good strong class spirit. knowing that children naturally respond to certain stimuli in very definite ways, the teacher can better set about to furnish the right stimuli--he can be in a better position to _direct and control behavior_. * * * * * questions and suggestions--chapter vii . what significance attaches to the statement, "children are born 'going'"? . why is it of vital importance that teachers give attention to the native tendencies in children? . what constitutes instinctive action? illustrate. . name the instincts that are essentially individualistic. those that are essentially social. . what native tendencies are of most concern to teachers? . discuss the relative significance of heredity, environment, and training in the development of children. . to what extent is a child limited in its development by its nervous system? helpful references norsworthy and whitley, _the psychology of childhood_; weigle, _talks to sunday school teachers_; colvin, _the learning process_; sisson, _the essentials of character_; stiles, _the nervous system and its conservation_; thorndike, _principles of teaching_; harrison, _a study of child nature_; kirkpatrick, _fundamentals of child study_. chapter viii "what to do with native tendencies" outline--chapter viii characteristic tendencies of the various stages of child life.--the teacher's attitude toward them.--follow the grain. four methods of procedure: . the method of disuse; . the method of rewards and punishment; . the method of substitution; . the method of stimulation and sublimation. having listed the native tendencies generally, we might well now consider them as they manifest themselves at the various stages of an individual's development. as already indicated, they constitute his birthright as a human being, though most of them are present in the early years of his life only in potentiality. psychologists of recent years have made extensive observations as to what instincts are most prominent at given periods. teachers are referred particularly to the volumes of kirkpatrick, harrison, and norsworthy and whitley. in this latter book, pages , , and - , will be found an interesting tabulation of characteristics at the age of five and at eleven. for the years of adolescence professor beeley, in his course at the brigham young summer school, in the psychology of adolescence, worked out very fully the characteristics unique in this period, though many of them, of course, are present at other stages: characteristics unique in the adolescent period . maturing of the sex instincts. . rapid limb growth. . over-awkwardness. . visceral organs develop rapidly (heart, liver, lungs, genital organs.) . change in physical proportions; features take on definite characteristics. . brain structure has matured. . self-awareness. . personal pride and desire for social approval. . egotism. . unstable, "hair-trigger," conflicting emotions. . altruism, sincere interest in the well-being of others. . religious and moral awakening. . new attitude. . aesthetic awakening. . puzzle to everybody. . desire to abandon conventionalities, struggle for self-assertion. . career motive. . period of "palling" and mating; clique and "gang" spirit. . positiveness,--affirmation, denial. . inordinate desire for excessive amusement. . evidence of hereditary influences. . "hero worship," castle building. . "wanderlust." . hyper-suggestibility. . ideals; ambitions. . yearning for adult responsibility. having listed these tendencies we still face the question, "what shall we do with them? what is their significance in teaching?" it is perfectly clear, in the first place, that we ought not to ignore them. none of them is wholly useless, and few of them can safely be developed just as they first manifest themselves. they call for training and direction. "some instincts are to be cherished almost as they are; some rooted out by withholding stimuli, or by making their exercise result in pain or discomfort, or by substituting desirable habits in their place; most of the instincts should be modified and redirected."--(_thorndike._) our concern as teachers ought to be that in our work with boys and girls, men and women, we are aware of these natural tendencies that we may work with them rather than contrary to them--that we may "follow the grain" of human nature. since these tendencies are the result of responses to stimuli they may be modified by attention either to the stimuli or to the reaction that attends the stimulation. four methods call for our consideration: . the method of disuse. . the method of rewards and punishments. . the method of substitution. . the method of stimulation and sublimation. no one of these methods can be said always to be best. the nature of the person in question, his previous experience and training, together with the circumstances attending a given situation, all are factors which determine how we should proceed. the vital point is, that both as parents and teachers we should guard against falling into the rut of applying the same treatment to all cases regardless of their nature. . the method of disuse this method is largely negative. it aims to safeguard an individual against ills by withholding stimuli. the mother aims to keep scissors out of reach and sight of the baby that it may not be lured into danger. some parents, upon discerning that the pugnacious instinct is manifesting itself vigorously in their boy, isolate him from other boys--keep him by himself through a period of a year or more that the tendency may not be accentuated. other parents, observing their daughter's inclination to be frivolous, or seeing the instinct of sex begin to manifest itself in her interest in young men, send her away to a girl's school--a sort of intellectual nunnery. frequently teachers follow this method in the conduct of their classes. the tendency to self-assertion and verbal combat, natural to youth, is smothered by an unwillingness on the part of the teacher to indulge questions and debate or by a marked inclination to do all the talking. it is clear that this method of disuse has its place in the training of children, though grave dangers attend its too frequent indulgence. children and others of immature judgment need the protection of withheld stimuli. but clearly this is not a method to be recommended for general application. the boy who is never allowed to quarrel or fight may very possibly grow up to be a man afraid to meet the battles of life; the girl, if her natural emotions are checked, may lose those very qualities that make for the highest type of womanhood and motherhood. fortunately, in these days, it is pretty nearly impossible to bring boys and girls up in "glass houses." doubly fortunate, for they are made happy in their bringing up and are fitted for a world not particularly devoted to the fondling of humankind. . the method of rewards and punishments this method is clearly illustrated in the training of "trick" animals. these creatures through innumerable repetitions are made to do phenomenal "stunts." in the training for every successful "try" they are rewarded with a cube of sugar, a piece of candy, or some other pleasure-producing article; for every miss they are punished--made to suffer pain or discomfort. this same sort of procedure carries over into human affairs. witness the hickory stick and the ruler, or count the nickels and caresses. ridicule before the class, and praise for commendable behavior or performance, are typical of this same method. if it is followed, and it clearly has a place in the training of children, care should be exercised to see that in the child's mind in any case there is clear connection between what he has done and the treatment that he receives. with some parents it fairly seems as if their one remedy for all offenses is a tingling in the epidermis--it is equally clear that with some teachers their one weapon is sarcasm. all too frequently these measures grow out of unsettled nerves or stirred up passions, on the part of the parent or teacher, and have really but little connection--remote at best--with the offense in question. there may be an abuse in the matter of rewards, too, of course, but as a rule few classes suffer from too much appreciation. the real art of discipline lies in making the reward or the punishment naturally grow out of the conduct indulged in. . the method of substitution because of the fact that some stimuli inevitably lead to discomfort and disaster--that some conduct is bad--there is need of a method of substitution. the child's mind needs to be led from the contemplation of an undesirable course of action to something quite different. frequently a child cannot be satisfied with a mere denial, and circumstances may not be favorable to punishment--yet the correction must be made. substitution is the avenue of escape. a striking illustration in point occurred recently in a cafe in montana. a trio of foreigners, father, mother, and two-year-old son, came in and sat down at one of the tables. soon after the parents began to eat, the child caught sight of a little silver pitcher for which he began to beg. whining and crying, mixed in with the begging, created a good bit of disturbance. the only attempted solution on the part of the parents was a series of: "don't do that!" "no! no!" "keep quiet, marti!" a continued focusing of the child's attention on what he ought not to do, and an added note to the disturbance. then an american across the aisle having surveyed the situation took out of his pocket a folder full of brightly colored views. the charm worked beautifully--the meal went on free from disturbance--and the child was happy. this method involves a good bit of resourcefulness, calling at times for what seems an impossible amount of ingenuity. as someone has said, "it is beating the other fellow to it." it merits the consideration of those who have to handle boys and girls who are regularly up to "stunts." . the method of stimulation and sublimation this method is rather closely akin to that of substitution, with the exception that it capitalizes on tendencies already in operation and raises them to a higher level. stimulation, of course, merely means the bringing of children into contact with desirable stimuli on every possible occasion; in fact, it involves the making of favorable occasions. sublimation involves building upon native tendencies to an elevated realization. educationally this method is most full of promise. it is seen in kindergarten methods when a child is led from mere meaningless playing with toys to constructive manipulation of blocks, tools, etc. it is seen admirably in football where the pugnacious tendency of boys is capitalized on to build manliness in struggle and to develop a spirit of fair play. it is seen in the fostering of a girl's fondness for dolls, so that it may crystallize into the devotion of motherhood. it is seen when a boys' man leads a "gang" of boys into an association for social betterment. it is seen when a teacher works upon the instinct to collect and hoard, elevating it into a desire for the acquisition of knowledge and the finer things of life. whatever our method, let us give due consideration to the natural inclinations and aptitudes of boys and girls--let us help them to achieve fully their own potentialities. * * * * * questions and suggestions--chapter viii . point out the essential differences between boys and girls at the age of six and seven and those of sixteen and seventeen. . discuss the significance of the following phrase: "the grain in human nature." . how can the hunting instinct be appealed to in religious stimulation? . of what significance is the "gang spirit" to teachers of adolescents? . how can rivalry be made an asset in teaching? . how can the fighting instinct in children best be directed? . why is biography so valuable in material for teaching? . why is it so essential that we put responsibility upon boys and girls? how should this fact affect teaching? . what are the dangers that attend an attempt to keep children quiet for any length of time? helpful references those listed in chapter vii. chapter ix individual differences outline--chapter ix fundamental significance of individual differences.--typical illustration.--the truth illustrated physically; in range of voice, in speed, in mental capabilities.--the same truth applied spiritually.--some cases in point. everybody is like everybody else in this--that everybody is different from everybody else. having discussed how all men enjoy a common heritage by way of native endowments, let us now turn to a consideration of how men differ. two of the terms most frequently met in recent educational publications are statistical methods and individual differences. there is nothing particularly new in this latter term--it merely represents a new emphasis being given to the old idea that no two of us are alike. every parent is aware of the very marked differences in his children. even twins differ in disposition and mental capabilities. in fact, one of the difficulties that attaches to parenthood is just this problem of making provision in one household for such various personalities. a member of the stake presidency in one of the stakes in southern utah, in discussing this matter a short time ago, remarked that in his family of four boys one very definitely had decided to become a farmer and was already busy at getting acquainted with the details of the work; a second boy was devoted to music and voiced a very vigorous protest against farming; the third son was so bashful and reticent that he hadn't given expression to any notion of preference; the fourth, a happy-go-lucky sort of chap, free and noisy in his cutting up about the place, wasn't worrying about what he was to do in life--he just didn't want anything to do with strenuous effort. "how can i drive a four-horse team such as that?" was the interesting query of this father. practically every family presents this variety of attitude and practically every parent is trying to work out a solution to the problem, so there is nothing startling about the term individual differences. educators have just given the matter more careful and scholarly attention of recent years. if the matter of differences in children constitutes a problem of concern in a family of from two to ten children, how much greater must that problem be in a class from thirty to fifty with approximately as many families represented. the problem has led to some very interesting investigations--investigations so simple that they can be carried on by anyone interested. for instance, if we could line up all the men in salt lake city according to size we should find at one end of the line a few exceptionally tall men, likely from six feet to six feet six inches in height. at the other end of the line would be a few exceptionally small men--undersized men from three feet eight or ten inches to four feet six inches. in between these two types would come in graduated order all sorts of men with a decidedly large number standing about five feet six or eight inches. this latter height we call the average. practically we see the significance of these differences. no manufacturer thinks of making one size of overall in the hope that it will fit each of these men. he adapts his garment to their size, and he knows approximately how many of each size will be called for in the course of ordinary business. if these same men could be taken one by one into a music studio and have their voices tested for range, the same interesting variations would be found. there would be a few very high tenors, a few exceptionally low bassos, and a crowd with medium range with fillers-in all along the line. if we were interested in carrying the experiment still further we might apply the speed test. in a -yard dash a few men would be found to be particularly fast, a few others would trail away behind at a snail's pace, while the big crowd of men would make the distance in "average time." of course, it would be foolish to attempt to make tenors of all these men--equally foolish to try to make speeders of them all. in these practical matters we appreciate the wisdom of letting each man fit into that niche for which he is qualified. nor are these differences confined to the field of physical characteristics and achievements. tests by the hundred have demonstrated beyond all question that they hold equally well of mental capabilities. in the past children have gone to school at the age of six. they have remained there because they were six. at seven they were in grade two, and so on up through the grades of our public schools. tests and measurements now, however, are showing that such a procedure works both a hardship and an injustice on the pupils. some boys at six are found as capable of doing work in grade two as other boys at eight. some boys and girls at six are found wholly incapable of doing what is required in grade one. one of the most promising prospects ahead educationally is that we shall be able to find out just the capacity of a child regardless of his age, and fit him into what he can do well, making provisions for his passing on as he shows capability for higher work. not only has this matter of individual differences been found to apply generally in the various grades of our schools--it has been found to have significant bearing upon achievements in particular subjects. for all too long a time we have held a boy in grade four until he mastered what we have called his grade four arithmetic, spelling, geography, grammar, history, etc. as a matter of fact, many a boy who is a fourth-grader in grammar may be only a second-grader in arithmetic--a girl, for whom fourth grade arithmetic is an impossibility, because of her special liking for reading, may be seventh grade in her capacity in that subject. in the specific subjects, individual differences have been found to be most marked. surely it is unfair to ask a boy "born short" in history to keep up to the pace of a comrade "born long" in that subject; so, too, it is unfair to ask a girl "born long" in geography to hold back to the pace of one "born short" in that subject. the results of these observations are leading to developments that are full of promise for the educational interests of the future. in order that we may more fully appreciate the reality of these observations let us set down the concrete results of a few experiments. the first three tests are quoted from thorndike: in a test in addition, all pupils being allowed the same time, pupil did examples correctly pupils did examples correctly pupil did examples correctly pupils did examples correctly pupils did examples correctly pupils did examples correctly pupils did examples correctly pupils did examples correctly pupils did examples correctly pupils did examples correctly pupils did examples correctly pupils did examples correctly pupils did examples correctly pupils did examples correctly pupil did examples correctly pupils did examples correctly pupil did examples correctly pupils did examples correctly the rapidity of movement of ten-year-old girls, as measured by the number of crosses made in a fixed time: or by girl or by girl or by girls or by girls or by girls or by girls or by girls or by girls or by girls or by girls or by girls or by girls or by girls or by girls or by girls or by girl or by girls or by girl two papers, a and b, written by members of the same grade and class in a test in spelling: a. b. greatful gratful elegant eleagent present present patience paisionce succeed suckseed severe survere accident axadent sometimes sometimes sensible sensible business biusness answer anser sweeping sweping properly prooling improvement improvment fatiguing fegting anxious anxchus appreciate apresheating assure ashure imagine amagen praise prasy in a test in spelling wherein fifty common words were dictated to a class of twenty-eight pupils, the following results were obtained: spelled correctly all spelled correctly between and spelled correctly between and spelled correctly between and spelled correctly between and spelled correctly between and and now the question--what has all this to do with the teaching of religion? just this: the differences among men as found in fields already referred to, are found also in matters of religion. for one man it is easy to believe in visions and all other heavenly manifestations; for another it is next to impossible. to one man the resurrection is the one great reality; to another it is merely a matter of conjecture. one man feels certain that his prayers are heard and answered; another feels equally certain that they cannot be. one man is emotionally spiritual; another is coldly hard-headed and matter-of-fact. the point is not a question which man is right--it is rather that we ought not to attempt to reach each man in exactly the same way, nor should we expect each one to measure up to the standards of the others. an interesting illustration of this difference in religious attitude was shown recently in connection with the funeral of a promising young man who had been taken in death just as he had fairly launched upon his life's work. in a discussion that followed the service, one good brother found consolation in the thought that the lord needed just such a young man to help carry on a more important work among the spirits already called home. his companion in the discussion found an explanation to his satisfaction in the thought that it was providential that the young man could be taken when he was, that he thereby might be spared the probable catastrophies that might have visited him had he lived. each man found complete solace in his own philosophy, though neither could accept the reasoning of the other. an interesting case of difference of view came to the attention of the teacher-training class at provo when someone asked how the lesson on jonah could be presented so that it would appeal to adolescent boys and girls. the query was joined in by several others for whom jonah had been a stumbling block, when brother sainsbury, of vernal, startled the class by saying jonah was his favorite story. "i would rather teach that story than any other one in the bible," he declared, and illustrated his method so clearly that the account of jonah took on an entirely new aspect. many men and women in the world are shocked at the thought that god is a personality. to them the idea that god is simply a "man made perfect," a being similar to us, but exalted to deity, is akin to blasphemy. and then to add the idea of a heavenly mother is beyond comprehension. to latter-day saints, on the other hand, these thoughts are the very glory of god. to them a man made perfect is the noblest conception possible. it makes of him a reality. and the thought of mother--heaven without a mother would be like home without one. and so with all the principles and conceptions of religion, men's reactions to them are as varied as they are to all the other facts of life. everywhere the opinions, the capacities, the attainments of men vary. the law of individual differences is one of the most universal in our experience. * * * * * questions and suggestions--chapter ix . just what is the meaning of the term individual differences? . illustrate such differences in families with which you are familiar. . apply the test to your ward choir. . name and characterize twenty men whom you know. how do they differ? . have a report brought in from your public school on the results of given tests in arithmetic, spelling, etc. . have the members of your class write their opinions relative to some point of doctrine concerning which there may be some uncertainty. . observe the attitude and response of each of the members of a typical sunday school, kindergarten, of an advanced m.i.a. class. . illustrate individual differences as expressed in the religious attitudes of men you know. . to what extent are boys different from girls in mental capability and attitude? helpful references those listed in chapter vii. chapter x individual differences and teaching outline--chapter x the causes of individual differences.--norsworthy and whitley on the significance of parentage.--the teacher's obligation to know parents.--the influence of sex.--environment as a factor.--thorndike quoted.--b.h. jacobsen on individual differences. so far we simply have made the point that individuals differ. we are concerned in this chapter in knowing how these differences affect the teaching process. fully to appreciate their significance we must know not only that they exist, and the degree of their variation, but also the forces that produce them. on the side of heredity, race, family, and sex, are the great modifying factors. practically, of course, we are concerned very little as church teachers with problems of race. we are all so nearly one in that regard that a discussion of racial differences would contribute but little to the solution of our teaching problem. the matter of family heritage is a problem of very much more immediate concern. someone has happily said: "really to know a boy one must know fully his father and his mother." "yes," says a commentator, "and he ought to know a deal about the grandfather and grandmother." the significance of parentage is made to stand out with clearness in the following paragraph from norsworthy and whitley, _the psychology of childhood_: "just as good eyesight and longevity are family characteristics, so also color blindness, left-handedness, some slight peculiarity of structure such as an extra finger or toe, or the hapsburg lip, sense defects such as deafness or blindness, tendencies to certain diseases, especially those of the nervous system,--all these run in families. certain mental traits likewise are obviously handed down from parents to child, such as strong will, memory for faces, musical imagination, abilities in mathematics or the languages, artistic talent. in these ways and many others children resemble their parents. the same general law holds of likes and dislikes, of temperamental qualities such as quick temper, vivacity, lovableness, moodiness. in all traits, characteristics, features, powers both physical and mental and to some extent moral also, children's original nature, their stock in trade, is determined by their immediate ancestry. 'we inherit our parents' tempers, our parents' conscientiousness, shyness and ability, as we inherit their stature, forearm and span,' says pearson." the teacher who would really appreciate the feelings and responses of a boy in his class must be aware, therefore, that the boy is not merely one of a dozen type individuals--he is a product of a particular parentage, acting as he does largely because "he was born that way." we shall point out in connection with environmental influences the importance of a teacher's knowing the home condition of his pupils; but it is important here, in passing, to emphasize the point that even though a child were never to live with its parents it could be understood by the teacher acquainted with the peculiar traits of those parents. "born with a bent" is a proverb of such force that it cannot be ignored. to know the parental heritage of a boy is to anticipate his reaction to stimuli--is to know what approach to make to win him. because of the fact that in many of our organizations we are concerned with the problem of teaching boys and girls together, the question of the influence of sex is one which we must face. there are those who hold that boys and girls are so fundamentally different by nature that they ought not to be taught coeducationally. others maintain that they are essentially alike in feeling and intellectuality, and that because of the fact that eventually they are to be mated in the great partnership of life they should be held together as much as possible during the younger years of their lives. most authorities are agreed that boys and girls differ not so much because they are possessed of different native tendencies, but because they live differently--they follow different lines of activity, and therefore develop different interests. to quote again from norsworthy and whitley: "that men and women are different, that their natures are not the same, has long been an accepted fact. out of this fact of difference have grown many hot discussions as to the superiority of one or the other nature as a whole. the present point of view of scientists seems well expressed by ellis when he says, 'we may regard all such discussions as absolutely futile and foolish. if it is a question of determining the existence and significance of some particular physical sexual difference, a conclusion may not be impossible. to make any broad statement of the phenomena is to recognize that no general conclusion is possible. now and again we come across facts which group themselves with a certain uniformity, but as we continue, we find other equally important facts which group themselves with equal uniformity in another sense. the result produces compensation.' the question of interest then is, what in nature is peculiar to the male sex and what to the female? what traits will be true of a boy, merely because he is a boy, and vice versa? this has been an extremely difficult question to answer, because of the difficulty encountered in trying to eliminate the influence of environment and training. boys are what they are because of their original nature plus their surroundings. some would claim that if we could give boys and girls the same surroundings, the same social requirements, the same treatment from babyhood, there would be no difference in the resulting natures. training undoubtedly accentuates inborn sex differences, and it is true that a reversal of training does lessen this difference; however, the weight of opinion at present is that differences in intellect and character do exist because of differences of sex, but that these have been unduly magnified. h.b. thompson, in her investigation entitled _the mental traits of sex_, finds that 'motor ability in most of its forms is better developed in men than in women. in strength, rapidity of movement, and rate of fatigue, they have a very decided advantage, and in precision of movement a slight advantage.... the thresholds are on the whole lower in women, discriminative sensibility is on the whole better in men.... all these differences, however, are slight. as for the intellectual faculties, women are decidedly superior to men in memory, and possibly more rapid in associative thinking. men are probably superior in ingenuity.... the data on the life of feeling indicate that there is little, if any, sexual difference in the degree of domination by emotion, and that social consciousness is more prominent in men, and religious consciousness in women.' "pearson, in his measurement of traits, not by objective tests but by opinions of people who know the individual, finds that boys are more athletic, noisy, self-assertive, self-conscious; less popular, duller in conscience, quicker-tempered, less sullen, a little duller intellectually and less efficient in penmanship. heymans and wiersma, following the same general method as pearson, state as their general conclusions that the female is more active, more emotional, and more unselfish than the male. 'they consider women to be more impulsive, less efficient intellectually, and more fickle than men as a result of the first two differences mentioned above; to be gifted in music, acting, conversation and the invention of stories, as a result in part of the second difference; and to think well of people and to be easily reconciled to them as a result of the third.' thorndike finds the chief differences to be that the female varies less from the average standard, is more observant of small visual details, less often color-blind, less interested in things and their mechanisms, more interested in people and their feelings, less given to pursuing, capturing and maltreating living things, and more given to nursing, comforting and relieving them than is the male. h. ellis considers the chief differences to be the less tendency to variability, the greater affectability, and the greater primitiveness of the female mind, and the less ability shown by women in dealing with the more remote and abstract interests in life. all the authors emphasize the smallness of the differences; and after all the striking thing is not the differences between the sexes, but the great difference within the same sex in respect to every mental trait tested. the difference of man from man, and woman from woman, in any trait is almost as great as the differences between the sexes in that trait. sex can be the cause, then, of only a fraction of the difference between the original nature of individuals." it is reasonably certain, then, that a teacher may safely appeal to both boys and girls on the ground of the fundamental instincts, feeling confident that common stimuli will produce largely the same results. important as it is that we know what our pupils are from their parentage, it is even more important in the matter of religious instruction that we shall appreciate the force of the varieties of environment that have been operative. though boys and girls may be essentially alike at the outset of their lives they may be thrown into such associations as to make their ideals and conduct entirely different. fancy the contrast between the case of a girl brought up for fifteen years in a household of refinement and in a companionship of gentility, and the case of a boy who during the same years has been the pal of bullies on street corners. surely stimuli that are to promote proper reaction in these two cases will have to be suited to the person in question. then, too, the teacher must realize that one child may come from a home of faith, confidence, and contentment; whereas, another may come from a home of agitation, doubt, and suspicion. one may have been taught to pray--another may have been led to disbelieve. one may have been stimulated to read over sacred books--another may have been left to peruse cheap, sensational detective stories. to succeed in reaching the hearts of a group of such boys and girls, a teacher surely ought to be aware of individual differences and ought to be fortified with a wealth of material so that the appeal may be as varied as possible. to quote from thorndike's _principles of education_: "a teacher has to choose what is for the greatest good of the greatest number. he cannot expect to drive forty children abreast along the highroad of education." "yet the differences in children should not blind us to their likenesses." "we need general principles and their sagacious application to individual problems." "the worst error of teachers with respect to individual differences is to neglect them, to form one set of fixed habits for dealing with all children, to teach 'the child instead of countless different living individuals.' to realize the varieties of human nature, the nature and amount of mental differences, is to be protected against many fallacies of teaching." our treatment of individual differences was well summed up in the following paper by b.h. jacobsen, a member of the b.y.u. teacher-training class: _the significance of individual differences in teaching_ "individual instruction in our religious organizations as in the public schools is under present condition impracticable. we are compelled to teach in groups or classes of somewhat varying size. consequently, it is of prime importance for the teacher, in trying to apply that fundamental principle of pedagogy--an understanding of the being to be taught--to know first what characteristics and tendencies, whether native or acquired, are known to a large majority of the children in the class. leaving out of consideration the possible presence of subnormal children, the language used must be clear and simple enough to be comprehended by all; the great majority of the questions must be intended for all to find answers to; the stories, illustrations, incidents, pictures, and various devices employed must be reasonably within the range of experience and comprehension of all members. "at the same time, it is important to recognize the fact that, after all, the class as a whole does not in any very fundamental, pedagogical sense constitute the objective unit of instruction. though it seems natural for most teachers to look upon the class as a more or less uniform mass, and the exigencies of the situation make this to some extent unavoidable, still the individual child remains always the real unit, and furthermore the units are all different--in appearance, training and temperament. "in general the methods and material will be uniform for all, but there will still be abundant opportunity for exercising little individual touches and tricks in relation to individual pupils, especially those who vary somewhat widely from the average. even such a superficial matter as size, especially superior size, might profitably receive a little special consideration by the teacher and thus at times save some pupil a little physical embarrassment. the boy unusually active might be given some physical task to perform, even if it has to be provided for the occasion, though it must not be too artificially created, as this is sure of detection. "questions requiring more than ordinary mental ability to answer may be directed to those of superior alertness and intelligence, who may also be given more difficult subjects to look up for presentation to the class. special interests in animals, flowers, books, aeroplanes, industries, vocations, should be discovered and utilized by the watchful teacher. even though the connection may be a little remote, any contribution of real interest and value is legitimate in order to relieve the monotony of a dull class. "pupils differ very widely in temperament and disposition as well as in capacity. the timid boy or girl should be given special encouragement and commendation, while the over-bold will take no injury from a mild "squelch" occasionally. the child of gloomy disposition should if anything have more smiles and sunny words sent his way than the cheerful one, who is in no danger of losing his share. the talkative child will need cautioning and careful directing, while the one who seldom speaks needs the frequent stimulus of a kind and encouraging look or word. the child who is naturally docile and obedient will develop smoothly and without great need of special attention and direction, while the stubborn, the rebellious, the untractable child, the cause of continual worry and solicitude, is the one on whom special thought must be bestowed; for his soul is no less precious in the sight of god, and the wise teacher may be the means of making him a useful citizen, as well as directing him in the way of working out his eternal salvation." * * * * * questions and suggestions--chapter x . discuss the relative significance of race, sex, family, and environment as factors producing individual differences. . why is it essential that teachers know the parents of pupils? . what are the advantages of having boys and girls together in class? what are the arguments for separating them? . how can a teacher be governed by the force of individual differences when he has to teach a group of forty pupils? . discuss the statement that teaching is both a social and an individual process. . choose a subject of general interest and illustrate how it might be presented to satisfy different types of pupils. helpful references those listed in chapter vii. chapter xi attention outline--chapter xi attention the mother of learning.--gregory quoted.--the fact of attention in the army.--what attention is.--illustrations.--attention and interest.--the three types of attention: involuntary, nonvoluntary, voluntary.--how to secure attention.--interest the great key to attention. in that stimulating little book, _the seven laws of teaching_, by gregory, _et al_, the second law is stated in these words: "a _learner_ is one who _attends_ with interest to the lesson." expressed as a rule of teaching, the law is made to read: "gain and keep the attention and interest of the pupils upon the lesson. do not try to teach without attention." as a matter of fact, it is impossible to teach without attention. a person may hold class--go through the formality of a class exercise--but he can _really teach_ only him who _attends_. the first big, outstanding thought with reference to attention is that we should secure it, not so much in the interest of order, important as it is in that connection, but because it is the _sine qua non_ of _learning_. a boy may sit in a class in algebra for weeks, with his mind far afield on some pet scheme, or building palatial edifices in the air, but not until he _attends_ does he begin to grasp the problems presented. it is literally as well as scripturally possible "to have ears and hear not." _attention_ is the mother of learning. think of the force of that word _attention_ in the american army. it is a delight to see the ranks straighten to that command--would that our messages of truth could challenge the same response from that vast army of seekers after truth--the boys and girls of the church. the soldier at attention not only stands erect, nor does he merely keep silence--he is eagerly receptive--anxious to receive a message which he is to translate into action. his attitude, perhaps, is our best answer to the question, "what is attention?" betts says, "the concentration of the mind's energy on one object of thought is attention." as magnusson expresses it, "attention is the centering of consciousness on a portion of its contents." and angell adds, "attention is simply a name for the central and most active portion of the field of consciousness." the mind, of course, during waking hours, is never merely passive. with its flood of ideas it is always recalling, observing, comparing, analyzing, building toward conclusions. these processes go on inevitably--go on with little concern about attention. but when we narrow the field--when we bring our mental energy to a focus on something specific and particular we then _attend_. betts, in his _the mind and its education_, very happily illustrates the meaning of attention: "_attention measures mental efficiency._--in a state of attention the mind may be likened to the rays of the sun which have been passed through a burning glass. you may let all the rays which can pass through your window pane fall hour after hour upon the paper lying on your desk, and no marked effects follow. but let the same amount of sunlight be passed through a lens and converged to a point the size of your pencil, and the paper will at once burst into flame." to follow another analogy, attention is to the energies of the mind what the pipe line leading into the power plant is to the water in the canyon above. it directs and concentrates for the generation of power. just as the water might run on and on to little or no purpose, so the energies of a boy or girl may be permitted to drift aimlessly toward no conviction unless the teacher wins him to an attention that rivets truth to his life. in a discussion of attention the question of the relation of interest to attention is bound to arise. do we attend to things because they are interesting? or are we interested in things because we give them our attention? the two terms are so interwoven in meaning that they are frequently treated under one chapter heading. our purpose here is not to attempt to divorce them, but rather to give them emphasis because of their significance in the teaching process. attention denotes a focusing of mental energy on a particular idea or object; interest, subjectively considered, is an attitude of mind. perhaps we can get a clearer idea of the two terms if we consider the various types of attention. first of all there is what is called _involuntary_ attention. this is the type over which the mind has little or no control. a person sits reading--his attention fixed on the page in front of him--when suddenly a rock crashes through the window immediately behind him. he jumps to see what is wrong. his attention to his book is shifted to the window, not because he wills it so, but because of the suddenness and force of the stimulus. the excitation of the auditory nerve centers compels attention. the attendant feeling may be one of pleasure or of pain--there may be an interest developed or there may not. involuntary attention clearly does not rest upon interest. then there is what is called _nonvoluntary_ attention. i go to a theatre and some particular musical number is featured. it grips my interest and i follow it with rapt attention, wholly without conscious effort. unlike the case of a sudden noise, in this experience my attention is not physiologically automatic--i could control it if i chose--but i choose now to give it. interest clearly is the motor power behind such attention. then, finally, there is _voluntary_ attention. i sit at a table working out a problem in arithmetic. outside there is being played a most exciting ball game. my interests are almost wholly centered in the outcome of the game, but duty bids me work out my problem. i make myself attend to it in spite of the pull of my natural interests. and so attention is seen to be purely the result of physiological stimulus; it is seen to accompany--fairly to be born out of it--interest. it is seen to be the result of an operation of the will against the natural force of interest. this three-fold classification is of particular significance to the teacher. he may be sure that if he resorts to the use of unusual stimuli he can arrest attention, though by so doing he has no guarantee of holding it; he may feel certain of attention if he can bring before pupils objects and ideas which to them are interesting; he may so win them to the purposes of his recitation that they will give attention even though they are not interested in what may be going on for the time being. it is evident, however, that resorting to violent stimuli is dangerous, that forced attention is ultimately disagreeable and certainly not a modern commonplace in experience, that attention which attends genuine interest is the attention most generally to be sought. one question still remains: "how shall we proceed to secure and to hold attention?" in the first place we should remind ourselves that it is a difficult matter to give sustained attention to a single object or idea, unless the object or idea changes. the difficulty is greater with children than with adults. in the second place we should be mindful that it is poor policy either to demand attention or to beg for it. where attention has to be secured out of disorder we are justified in making use of stimuli that shock pupils into attention. one of the best illustrations of this sort of procedure was the method used in the david belasco theatre in new york to get audiences quiet for the opening of the performances. mr. belasco was convinced that the orchestra had become a mere accompaniment to the clatter and noise of the audience and so he did not trust to that means to secure order. in fact, he discarded the orchestra idea. at the appointed hour for the curtain to rise, his theatre became suddenly dark. so dark that the blackness was startling. immediately upon the silence that attended the shock the soft chiming of bells became audible which led the audience to strain in an attempt to catch fully the effect of the chime. at that point the curtains were drawn and the first lines of the play fell upon the ears of a perfectly quiet audience. it is safer and better, of course, to anticipate disorder by getting the lesson under way in an interesting manner. these artificial devices are serviceable as emergency measures as well as helpful as restful variations in a class hour. change in posture, group exercises, periods of relaxation, all help to make attention the more easily possible. the key to sustained attention, when all is said and done, is interest. there is no substitute for the fascination of interest. as magnusson says: "monotony is the great enemy of attention. interest is the attention-compelling element of instincts and desires." the teacher can feel assured of success only when he is so fully prepared that his material wins attention because of its richness and appropriateness. special thought should be given in the preparation of a lesson to the attack to be made during the first two minutes of a recitation. a pointed, vital question, a challenging statement, a striking incident, a fascinating, appropriate story, a significant quotation--these are a few of the legitimate challenges to attention. * * * * * questions and suggestions--chapter xi . discuss the statement: "there is no such thing as inattention; when pupils appear inattentive, they are singly attentive to something more interesting than the lesson." . explain the force of attention in the learning process. . what is attention? . discuss and illustrate the different types of attention. . give some practical suggestions on the securing of attention. . point out the distinction between attention and interest. . discuss the effect of monotony on attention. . how do children and adults differ in their powers of attention? helpful references pillsburg, _attention_; norsworthy and whitley, _psychology of childhood_; strayer and norsworthy, _how to teach_; betts, _how to teach religion_; weigle, _talks to sunday school teachers_; fitch, _the art of securing attention_; thorndike, _principles of teaching_; dewey, _interest and effort in education_; brumbaugh, _the making of a teacher_. chapter xii what makes for interest outline--chapter xii individual differences and interest.--what makes for interest.--interest begets interest.--preparation is a great guarantee.--knowledge of the lives of boys and girls a great help.--the factors of interestingness: the vital, the unusual, the uncertain, the concrete, the similar, the antagonistic, the animate. after discussing the relation of interest to attention we still face the question: what is it that makes an interesting object, or an idea interesting? why do we find some things naturally interesting while others are dull and commonplace? of course, everything is not equally interesting to all people. individual differences make clear the fact that a certain stimulus will call for a response in one particular person, quite unlike the response manifested in a person of different temperament and training. but psychologists are agreed that in spite of these differences there are certain elements of interests that are generally and fundamentally appealing to human nature. to know what it is that makes for interest is one of the prerequisites of good teaching. but before naming these "factors of interestingness," may we not also name and discuss briefly some other essentials in the matter of creating and maintaining interest? in the first place it is good to remember that a teacher who would have his pupils interested must himself be interested. if he would see their faces light up with the glow of enthusiasm, he must be the charged battery to generate the current. interest begets interest. it is as contagious as whooping cough--if a class is exposed it is sure to catch it. the teacher who constantly complains of a dull class, very likely is simply facing a reaction to his own dullness or disagreeableness. "blue monday" isn't properly so named merely because of the drowsy pupil. the teacher inevitably sets the pace and determines the tone of his class. many a teacher when tired, or out of patience, has concluded a recitation feeling that his pupils were about the most stupid group he has ever faced; the same teacher keyed up to enthusiasm has felt at the close of another recitation that these same pupils could not be surpassed. a student with whom the writer talked a short time ago remarked that she could always tell whether the day's class was going to be interesting under a particular teacher as soon as she caught the mood in which she entered the classroom. half-heartedness, indifference, and unpleasantness are all negative--they neither attract nor stimulate. interest and enthusiasm are the sunshine of the classroom--they are to the human soul what the sun's rays are to the plant. the second great guarantee of interest is preparation. the teacher needs to have his subject matter so thoroughly in mind that, free from textbook and notes, he can reach out to a real contact with his boys and girls. if his eyes are glued to his book, he cannot hope to arouse keen interest. the eye is a great force in gripping the attention of a class or audience. they want nothing to stand between them and the speaker. not long ago one of the most forceful and eloquent public speakers in utah failed miserably, in addressing a thoroughly fine audience, because he was lost in the machinery of his notes. his material was excellent--his power as an orator unquestioned--yet he was bound down by a lack of preparation that cost him the mastery of his audience. not only does adequate preparation enable a teacher to reach out and take hold of his pupils; it makes it possible for him to capitalize on the situations that are bound to arise in class discussion. a concrete illustration to clear up a troublesome question, an appropriate incident to hit off some general truth, a happy phrase to crystallize a thought--all these things are born only of adequate preparation. not long ago a candidate for the presidency of the united states delighted an audience of ten thousand or more in the salt lake tabernacle by his remarkable handling of questions and comments thrown at him from that vast audience. there was no hesitancy or uncertainty. he spoke "as one who knew." he was prepared. he had so lived with the questions of the day that they fairly seemed to be part of him. the interesting teacher never teaches all he knows. his reserve material inspires both interest and confidence. a class begins to lose interest in a teacher the moment they suspect that his stock in trade is running low. the mystery, "how one small head could carry all he knew," is still fascinating. thorough preparation, moreover, minimizes the likelihood of routine, the monotony of which is always deadening. a class likes a teacher--is interested in him--when it can't anticipate just what he is going to do next and how he is going to do it. a further aid in holding interest is to know intimately the life of the boys and girls taught. to appreciate fully their attitude--to know what sort of things in life generally appeal to them--is a very great asset to any teacher. if a teacher knows that a boy's reaction to the story of the israelites' crossing the red sea is that that story is "some bunk," he is fortified in knowing how to present other subjects which are similar tests to a boy's faith and understanding. to know pupils' attitudes and mode of life is to know what sort of illustrations to use, what emphasis to put upon emotional material, what stress to lay on practical application. in short, it is to know just how to "connect up." it stimulates to a testing of values so that a teacher selects and adapts his material to the needs of the boys and girls whom he teaches. and, finally, as a key to interest, a teacher needs to know what the "factors of interestingness" are. according to the findings of the public speaking department of the university of chicago, they are summed up in these seven terms: the vital the unusual the uncertain the concrete the similar the antagonistic the animate this list becomes more and more helpful as it is pondered. it is surprising to find how experience can be explained on the score of interest by reference to these terms. those things are vital which pertain to life--which affect existence. dangers are always interesting. catastrophies are fascinating. just today all america is scanning the newspapers throughout the country to find an explanation of the wall street explosion. we shall not soon forget the feverish interest that gripped the people of the world during our recent world wars. when life is at stake, interest runs high. so it does when property, liberty, and other sacred rights, so vital to life, are affected. anything vital enough to justify the publication of an "extra" may be depended upon to grip the interest of men and women. it is equally clear that a fascination attaches to things that are unusual. new styles attract because of this fact. let a man oddly dressed walk along a thoroughfare--the passersby are interested immediately. a "loud" hat or necktie, or other item of apparel, attracts attention because it is out of the ordinary. much of the interest and delight in traveling lies in this element of the new and unusual which the traveler encounters. the experiences of childhood which stand out most prominently are usually those which at the time riveted themselves to the mind through the interest of their extraordinariness. every reader knows the fascination of uncertainty. "how will the book turn out?" prompts many a person to turn through hundreds of pages of a novel. an accident is interesting not only because of its vital significance, but because there is always a question as to how seriously those involved may be hurt. one of the clearest illustrations of the force of the uncertain is found attending baseball games. let the score stand at to in the eighth inning and the grandstands and bleachers begin to empty. few spectators care to remain. the game is too clearly settled. as the boys say, it is "sewed up" and there is nothing uncertain to grip interest. but let the score stand to or to in the eighth and even the man scheduled home for dinner stays to the end. he wants to know how the game is "coming out." it is easier also to be interested in concrete than in abstract things. general truths are not gripping--concrete illustrations of those truths are. if i declare that it is important to have faith, i create but little interest in an audience. but if i tell that same audience how some individual has been miraculously healed through faith, i have their interest completely. concrete illustrations fit into and link up with our own experiences so easily and forcefully that they are particularly interesting. so, too, with things that are similar. the mind naturally links like with like. we are fond of making comparisons. the interest in the similar is due to that fundamental law of learning that we proceed from what is known to that which is unknown and we proceed along points of similarity. and how natural it seems to be interested in things antagonistic! our love of contests of all sorts is evidence of the fact. who can resist the interest that attaches to a quarrel--a fight--a clash of any kind. the best of classes will leave the best of teachers, mentally at least, to witness a dog fight. our champion prize fighters make fortunes out of man's interest in the antagonistic. and then, finally, we are interested in the animate. we like action. things in motion have a peculiar fascination. who does not watch with interest a moving locomotive? advertising experts appreciate the appeal of the animate, as is evidenced by the great variety of moving objects that challenge our interest as we pass up and down the streets of a city and we respond to the challenge. in fact, it is natural to respond to the appeal of all of these seven terms--hence their significance in teaching. * * * * * questions and suggestions--chapter xii . discuss the force of individual differences in choosing material that will be interesting. . why is it so essential that the teacher be interested in what he hopes to interest his pupils in? . show how preparation makes for interest. . why is an intimate acquaintance with the lives of pupils so essential a factor with the interesting teacher? . illustrate concretely the force of each of the factors of interestingness. helpful references those listed in chapter xi. chapter xiii a laboratory lesson in interest outline--chapter xiii interest should be inherent in the lesson taught.--an illustration of "dragged in" interest.--interest and the "easy" idea.--a proper interpretation of interest.--how to make the subject of _fasting_ interesting.--the various possibilities.--how to secure interest in the atonement.--how to secure interest in the resurrection.--how to secure interest in the story of jonah. "oh, that's all right," says one. "it is easy enough to talk about interest, and it's easy to be interesting if you can choose anything you like to amuse a class. but if you have to teach them theology, and especially some of the dry lessons that are outlined for us, i don't see how we can be expected to make our work interesting." of course, there is some point to such an objection. having been asked to teach the truths of the gospel of jesus christ, we cannot defend the practice of bringing in all kinds of material just because it is funny. and, of course, it is true, too, that some lesson outlines upon first thought do appear rather forbidding. but it is equally true that there is a path of interest through the most unpromising material, though that path does not always run alongside the teacher's highroad of ease and unconcern. a false notion of interest is that it denotes mere amusement--that it is something aside from serious and sober thought. the writer recalls visiting a class taught by a person holding such a notion. having given his lesson but little thought he apologized for its lack of interest by saying, "now, boys and girls, if you will just be quiet while we go over the lesson, even though it isn't very interesting, i'll read you our next chapter of _huckleberry finn_." and yet the lesson, hurried over, with a little intensive study could have been made as fascinating as the reading of _huckleberry finn_ and notably more profitable. another misconception relative to interest is the idea that to make a subject interesting you must so popularize it that you cheapen it. this idea is typified in the "snap" courses in school--courses made interesting at the expense of painstaking application. as a matter of fact, to cheapen a thing is ultimately to kill interest in it. genuine interest of real worth is born of effort and devotion to a worthy objective. far from dissipating the mind's energies, it heightens and concentrates them to the mastery of the bigger and finer things of life. a subject to be made interesting must present some element of newness, yet must be so linked up with the experience of the learner as to be made comprehensible. it must, moreover, be made to appeal as essential and helpful in the life of the learner. the two outstanding queries of the uninterested pupil are: what is it all about? what's the use? let us, then, turn to two or three subjects which at first thought may appear more or less dull to see whether there is an approach to them that can be made interesting. members of the teacher-training class at provo were asked to name four or five subjects which they regarded hard to stimulate interest in. they named the following: fasting. the fall. the atonement. the resurrection. the story of jonah. let us suppose that i have met my second intermediate class of eighteen boys and girls to discuss the subject of fasting. i might begin by relating an actual experience in which through fasting and prayer on the part of the members of a particular family a little boy has just been most miraculously restored to health, after an operation for appendicitis. it was an infection case, and three doctors agreed there was no possible chance of recovery. a fourth doctor held out the possibility of one chance in a hundred. and yet a two days' fast, coupled with a faith i have seldom seen equalled, has been rewarded by the complete recovery of the boy, who is now thoroughly well and strong. such a concrete illustration is one possibility for arousing interest. or, i might proceed with a few definite, pointed questions: "how many of you eighteen boys and girls fasted this month?" the answers show that seven have fasted; eleven have not. i proceed then to inquire why the eleven have failed to fast. various explanations are offered: "oh, i forgot." "we don't fast in our home." "father has to work all day sunday; and so, because mother has to get breakfast for him, we all eat." "i have a headache if i fast, so i think it is better not to." "i don't see any use in fasting. going around with a long, hungry face can't help anyone." "it's easy to fast when they won't give you anything to eat." "i like to fast just to show myself that i don't live to be eating all the time." "i believe it's a good thing to give the body a little rest once in a while." "i feel different when i fast--more spiritual or something." "it must be right to fast. the church wouldn't ask us to if it wasn't a good thing." the definiteness of these replies, coupled with the suspense of wondering what the next answer will be, keeps up a lively interest. a third possibility would be to call for the experiences of the pupils, or experiences which have occurred in their families, or concerning which they have read. a very rich compilation of interesting material can be collected under such a scheme. or, finally, i may choose to proceed immediately with a vigorous analysis and discussion of the whole problem. i arouse interest by quoting a friend who has put the query to me, "what is the use of fasting?" and then enlist the cooperation of the class in formulating a reply. together we work out the possible justification of fasting. the following outline may represent the line of our thought: . jesus taught us to fast. a. his forty days in the wilderness. b. his injunction to his apostles. . our leaders have instituted fasting in these latter days. . by fasting we develop a mastery over our appetites. the body is made to serve the will. . physiologically, it is a good thing to fast. many scientists are now recommending regular rests for the digestive organs. . fasting makes possible an elevation of spirit. . our system of fasting makes it possible to see that no one in the church wants for food. . fasting enables us to appreciate the feelings of those who are less fortunate in the world than we are, who are denied the blessings we enjoy. of course, each idea needs to be introduced and developed in a concrete, vigorous manner. so treated, fasting can be made a very fascinating subject. the following suggestions on introducing the lesson on the resurrection to little children have been drawn up by one of the most successful kindergarten teachers in the church: "there are several things to be considered before presenting the lesson on the resurrection to little children. "first, the teacher must feel that she _can_ present it. in other words, she must love the story and feel the importance of it. she must also be able to see the beautiful side and remember that she is teaching, 'there is no death; but life eternal.' "the next question to consider is: how are we going to present it? we must lead the child from the known to the unknown, through the child's own experience. therefore we go to nature, because all nature appeals to the child. but in order to create the right atmosphere, the teacher in selecting the subject must feel that what he has selected is the very thing he wants in order to explain to the child, 'there is no death.' "there are several ways in which the subject may be approached through nature. we may take the autumn and let the children tell what happens to the trees, flowers, and different plants. lead them to see the condition after the leaves are off. then what will happen next spring. or we may take one specific tree or brush and talk of the twig where the leaves were in the summer, but have now fallen to the ground. the twig looks dead. but on opening the bud and removing the brown covering we find the tiny leaf inside waiting and preparing to come forth in the spring. "the bulb may be used in a similar way, leading the child to see the bulb as it is before planting, then to see what happens when we plant it. "the caterpillar may also be used. here we have the live worm getting ready to go into his cocoon and is absent for some time; then he returns, only in another form. a higher stage. "lead the child to see that every thing in nature has a period of changing, of apparently going away for a short time, but is not dead--it returns to life. "be sure to have the objects you are talking about before the class, while you are discussing the subject. if not obtainable, use a picture, or draw them." the problem of the story of jonah is usually submitted with a twinkle in the eye of him who raises the question. the world has so generally relegated it to the heap of the impossible that even some of our own people look rather amazed when a champion for jonah steps forward. and yet this story properly approached is one of the teacher's greatest opportunities. if it is to be presented to small children it can be told very beautifully, either as a lesson on disobedience or, from the point of view of the people of nineveh, as a lesson on fasting and prayer. little children will not be troubled with doubt and disbelief unless the teacher fosters such attitudes. to older minds, of course, the story already is a good bit of a stumbling block, and therefore needs to be given thoughtful preparation. at the outset, with older students, we ought to lead them into the beauties of the story--beauties which all too frequently are wholly unknown to the ordinary boy or girl. read the story: the call that comes to jonah. his hesitancy. his dodging of duty. his selfish judgments. his punishment. his attitude toward the people of nineveh. the lesson taught. "yes," says the young skeptic, "but how about the whale idea? do you expect us to believe that stuff? it's contrary to all natural law." let's meet the issue squarely. the bible says that jonah was swallowed by a big fish. science is agreed that that part of the account is easily possible--nothing contrary to natural law so far. "but what about the three days? that surely is." here is a challenge. is it possible that life can be suspended, "and restored"? let the scriptures testify. it was so in the case of the daughter of jairus. (mark : - .) so was it in the case of lazarus. (john : - .) consider the case of the son of god himself! buried in the tomb, jesus rose the third day. if you can believe in the resurrection, you can believe in the restoration of jonah. it is interesting to note that jesus himself accepted the story of jonah. see matthew : : "for as jonah was three days and three nights in the whale's belly; so shall the son of man be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth." to doubt jonah is to question the master. not only so, but if a person throws out the story of jonah, he faces a chain of miraculous events from one end of the bible to the other from which he will have difficulty to escape. you ask me to explain jonah, i shall reply by asking you to explain: the creation of man. the flood. the confusion of babel. the parting of the red sea. the three hebrews and the furnace. elisha and the ax. the birth of the savior. his resurrection. one-third of the account given by matthew. your own birth. may one not accept with confidence the word of god as contained in the doctrine & covenants, sec. : ? "for i am god, and mine arm is not shortened; and i will show miracles, signs and wonders unto all those who _believe on my name_." * * * * * questions and suggestions--chapter xiii . discuss the proper use of stories in securing and maintaining interest. . point out the danger of bringing in foreign "funny" material. . show how difficult subjects may be made of even greater interest than easy ones. . use the greater part of this class hour for illustrating how to create interest in subjects ordinarily found hard to teach. helpful references those listed in chapter xi. chapter xiv the more immediate problems in teaching outline--chapter xiv the steps involved in the preparation of a lesson: the aim; organization; illustration; application; questions.--problems involved in the presentation of a lesson: the point of contact; illustration; the lesson statement.--various possibilities.--the review: questioning; application.--the matter summarized. so many textbooks have been written about teaching--so many points of view have been advanced--such a variety of terminology has been employed, even in the expression of a single educational notion--that beginning teachers are frequently at a loss to know just how to set about the task of teaching. leaving for further consideration the more purely theoretical aspects of our problem, let us face the questions of most immediate concern: how to prepare a lesson. how to present a lesson. is there not a common-sense procedure which we can agree to as promising best results in these two fundamental steps? at the outset let us agree that preparation and presentation are inseparable aspects of but one process. preparation consists of the work done _behind the scenes_--presentation involves the _getting over_ of the results of that work to the _audience_--the class. frequently teachers are confused because they mistake directions governing _preparation_ as applying to _presentation_. for instance, one teacher proceeded to drill a class of small children on the memorizing of the aim--an abstract general truth--unmindful of the fact that the _aim_ was set down for the teacher's guidance--a focus for his preparation done behind the scenes. though in the _preparation_ of a lesson we keep the aim clearly in mind, and though, when we stand before our class, we let it function in the background of our consciousness as an objective in our procedure, we ought not to hurl it at our class. as a generalized truth it can make but little appeal to young minds, and it ought to be self-evident, at the end of a successful recitation, to mature minds. and so with the matter of organization. we skeletonize our thoughts behind the scenes, but the skeleton is rather an unsightly specimen to exhibit before a class. the outline should be inherent in the lesson as presented, but it ought not to protrude so that the means will be mistaken for an end. subsequent chapters will illustrate both the selection of an aim and its elaboration through suitable organization. the successful preparation of a lesson involves at least five major steps. they are named here that the problem of preparation may be grasped as a whole. later chapters will develop at length each step in its turn. . _the aim._ a generalized statement, a kernel of truth about which all of the facts of the lesson are made to center. a lesson may be built up on a passage of scripture, on the experience of a person or a people, or on a vital question, etc. but in any case, though we are interested in the facts involved, we are interested not in the facts as an end in themselves, but rather because of the truth involved in the facts. in other words, we seek to sift out of the material offered in a lesson an essential truth which helps us in a solution of the problems of life. attention to the aim is a guarantee against mere running over of matter of fact. . _organization._ a teacher should outline his lesson so that pupils may easily follow him through the subject matter presented to the ultimate truth that lies beyond. . _illustration._ illustrations are what make truth vivid. successful teachers owe much of their success to their ability through story or incident to drive home to the experience of pupils those fundamental truths which in their general terms make but little appeal. one of the most helpful practices for teachers who would become effective is the habit of clipping and filing available illustrative material. there is a wealth of rich, concrete matter appearing regularly in our magazines and other publications. what is good today likely will be equally good a year or two years hence when we shall face the problem of teaching again today's lesson. an alphabetic letter file may be had for a few cents in which can be filed away all sorts of helpful material. it pays to collect and save! . _application._ having selected his aim, the teacher knows the result he should like to have follow his lesson, in the lives of his pupils. he knows, too, their tendencies and their needs. in giving attention to application he is merely making a survey of the possible channel into which he can direct his pupils' activities. in considering application he asks, "of what use will this material be in the experience of my pupils?" the test-application is the real test--both of the subject matter presented and of the effectiveness of the presentation. . _questions._ finally, lesson preparation is not complete unless the teacher has formulated a few thought-provoking questions which go to the very heart of the lesson. the question is the great challenge to the seeker after truth. it is easy to ask questions, but to propound queries that stir pupils to an intellectual awakening is a real art. surely no preparation can be fully complete unless it involves: the selection of an aim. the orderly organization of material. the collecting of rich illustrations. the pondering of facts to their application. the formulating of at least a few thoroughly stimulating questions. can we not agree to these steps as fundamental in the proper preparation of our lessons in all of our church organizations? with the subject matter well in mind--the work behind the scenes completed, the teacher is then prepared for the problem of presentation--is ready to appear on the stage of class activity. the first outstanding problem in lesson presentation is that of the _point of contact_. this is a phrase variously interpreted and often misunderstood. perhaps it is not the happiest expression we could wish, but it is so generally used and is so significant when understood that we ought to standardize it and interpret it as it affects our church work. when a class assembles for recitation purposes its members present themselves with all kinds of mental attitudes and mind content. the various groups of a mutual class may have been engaged in all sorts of activities just before entering their classroom. one group may have been discussing politics; another may have been engaged in a game of ball; a third may have been practicing as a quartette; and still a fourth may have been busy at office work. facing such a collection of groups stands a teacher who for an hour or more has dismissed all temporal matters, and has been pondering the spiritual significance of prayer. evidently there is a great mental chasm between them. their coming together and thinking on common ground involves the _point of contact_. there must be contact if an influence for good is to be exerted. either the teacher must succeed in bringing the boys to where he is "in thought," or he must go to "where they are." teachers in bible lessons all too frequently hurry off into the holy land, going back some two thousand years, and leaving their pupils in utah and in the here and the present. no wonder that pupils say of such a teacher, "we don't 'get' him." to proceed without preparing the minds of pupils for the message and discussion of the lesson is like planting seed without having first plowed and prepared the ground. in the bible lesson, it would be easy to bridge over from the interests of today to those of bible days. suppose our lesson is on joseph who was sold into egypt. instead of proceeding at once with a statement as to the parentage of joseph, etc., we might well center the interests of these various-minded boys on a current observation of today--a wonderfully fine harvest field of grain. they have all seen that. make a striking observation relative to the grain, or put a question that will lead them to do that for you. having raised an issue, you continue by inquiring whether or not the same conditions have prevailed elsewhere and at other times. did they prevail in the days of israel? the step then to the story of joseph's dream, etc., is an easy one. this illustration, though simple and more or less crude, indicates that to establish a point of contact, we must reach out to where the pupil now is, and lead easily and naturally to where you would have him go. surely we cannot presume that he has already traveled the same intellectual road that we have gone over. suppose we face a group of adolescent boys to teach them a lesson on the importance of their attending church. if we proceed with a preachment on their duties and obligations, we are quite certain to lose their interest. boys do not like to be preached at. we know, however, that they are interested in automobiles. by starting out with some vital observation or question out of the automobile world, we may count on their attention. following the discussion thus raised, we might then inquire the purpose of the garages that we find along all public highways. we could dwell upon the significance of repairs in maintaining the efficiency of cars. now we are prepared for the query, is it not essential that we have spiritual garages for the souls of men, garages where supplies and repairs may be had? the "gas" of faith. the "oil" of consolation. the "adjustment" of repentance. the "charging" of our spiritual batteries, etc. once led into the subject, boys can be made to see that spiritual problems are even more vital than material ones. the point of contact established, we next face the matter of _lesson statement_. the subject matter must either be in mind already because of home preparation, or the teacher must supply it. in the smaller classes the teacher generally will have to tell in good part what he wishes to convey; in the larger classes, there are the possibilities of home preparation, topical reports, the lecture, and the socialized recitation built up by questions and discussions. it is not intended here to discuss the various methods of lesson presentation--the thought being simply that in some way the lesson statement must be presented. then there is the problem of connecting up the present lesson with those that have already been presented. the review is a vital factor in fixing in the mind the relative value of material covered. then, too, there is the matter of questioning to test knowledge and stimulate discussion, together with the weaving in of illustrative material that has already been thought out or which may suggest itself as the lesson progresses. if, as all this material has been presented, the application has been made sufficiently clear to the pupils, the presentation is complete; otherwise avenues of action should be pointed out, care being taken to stimulate rather than to moralize. in conclusion, then, we have the matter of preparation as follows: preparation _as it involves subject matter_: _as it involves presentation_: . the aim point of contact . organization lesson statement . illustration review . application illustration . questions application * * * * * questions and suggestions--chapter xiv . discuss the helpfulness of having a definite procedure in the matter of lesson preparation. . point out the differences between lesson preparation and lesson presentation. . name and discuss the essential steps in preparing a lesson. . to what extent would you favor adopting these steps as the fundamental processes? . discuss the meaning and significance of "the point of contact." . why is some kind of lesson statement a prerequisite to a good recitation? . show how this statement may be made. . what do you consider your most valuable device in the preparation of a lesson? . discuss the importance of filing away the material looked up in the preparation of the regular work of teaching. . indicate some of the best methods of filing. helpful references betts, _how to teach religion_; weigle, _talks to sunday school teachers_; thorndike, _principles of teaching_; strayer and norsworthy, _how to teach_; earhart, _types of teaching_; betts, _classroom method in management_; bagley, _classroom management_. chapter xv organizing a lesson outline--chapter xv a review of the steps in lesson preparation.--the values of outlining.--objections answered.--outlining a means, not an end.--the essentials in outlining.--an illustrative outline on prayer. preparing a lesson is no easy matter, particularly for those teachers who are new to the calling. there are those, of course, for whom reading an assigned chapter through constitutes a preparation, but to the successful teacher this preliminary reading is only the initial step in the process. adequate preparation involves the following questions: what aim shall i select out of the material available as the focus for my day's work? how shall i build about that aim a body of facts that will establish it as a fundamental truth in life? how shall i illustrate the truths presented so that they will strike home in the experiences of my boys and girls? how shall i make sure that members of the class will go out from the recitation to put into practice the teachings of the day? what questions ought i to ask to emphasize the outstanding points of my lesson? what method of presentation can i most safely follow to make my lesson effective? how may i discipline my class so that no disturbances will interfere with our discussions? reduced to simple terms, the matter of preparation together with presentation, involves the problems of organization aim illustration application methods of presentation questioning it is difficult to single out any one factor and treat it as if it were independent of the others--teaching is a complex art with all of these factors inseparably contributing to the results desired--but, for purposes of clearness, may we not proceed to give attention to each in its turn that in the end the teaching process may the more definitely stand out in all its aspects? for convenience, then, let us in this chapter consider the problem of organization. how to outline a lesson is one of the most fundamental considerations involved in the teaching process. in fact, it is doubtful whether there is any one more helpful attainment than the ability clearly to outline subject matter. it not only enables the teacher to proceed systematically, thereby insuring clearness and adequate treatment of a lesson, but it makes it so easy and profitable for a class to follow the discussion. outlining to teaching is what organization is to business. just as the aim points out the goal we seek, so the outline indicates the route we shall follow to attain the goal. outlining is simply surveying the road before the concrete is laid. occasionally a teacher objects to outlining on the ground that it is too mechanical--that it destroys spontaneity and the flow of the spirit of the lord. it has always seemed to the writer that the spirit of the lord is quite as pleased to follow a straight path as it is to follow a crooked one. outlining is not in any sense a substitute for inspiration--it is merely a guarantee, by way of preparation, that the teacher has done his part and can in good conscience ask for that spiritual aid and guidance which he then is entitled to. the fact that order is a law of heaven rather indicates that there is no divine injunction against outlining. of course, outlining is not an end in itself--it is a means merely to more systematic procedure. two difficulties frequently attach to outlining: one is that the outline is made so complex that it hinders rather than helps in the matter of clearness; the other is that a teacher may become "outline bound," in which case his teaching becomes mechanical and labored. such a teacher illustrates clearly the force of the passage, "the letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life." but if the outline is made simple--if it is considered as merely a skeleton upon which is to be built the lesson--it is one of the greatest assets a teacher can have. perhaps we can make the matter clearest by going through the process of outlining a lesson, indicating the essential steps involved. suppose we are asked to prepare a lesson on prayer. keep in mind that in such a preparation we face the problems listed at the beginning of this chapter: the aim, the illustration, the application, etc., and keep in mind also that each of these subjects will be taken up in its turn and that for the present we are concerned primarily with the query, "how can i organize a lesson on prayer?" let us assume, too, that we are preparing this lesson for young men and women about twenty years of age. first of all, i must decide why i am to teach the subject of prayer. in view of the fact that the matter of the aim is to be considered fully in the succeeding chapter, suppose we agree that our purpose in this lesson shall be to establish prayer as a habit of life. _step number one_, then, is the selection of an aim--a focus for the thought of the lesson. _step number two_ is the collection of random thoughts. as i begin to ponder the subject of prayer and its influence on life, all sorts of ideas crowd into my mind. perhaps i read some one's discussion of prayer--perhaps i talk to a friend relative to it--perhaps i just ran the subject over in my mind. the thoughts that come to me may be vague and wholly disconnected. my immediate concern is content--order will come later. and so i jot down, either in my mind or on paper, such ideas as these: "prayer is the soul's sincere desire." the song "sweet hour of prayer." what is the use of prayer? are prayers answered? how often should i pray? does the lord hear and answer our prayers, or do we answer them ourselves? what kinds of prayers are there? how may i know how to pray? should prayers always be answered affirmatively? what are the characteristics of a good prayer? what prayers have impressed me most? and so i go on. my task in step two is to scout about intellectually in search of available, suitable material. many of my jottings may duplicate others already set down; others may not be appropriate for my need; still others may be wholly irrelevant. but i am seeking a wealth of material that i may make my recitation as rich as possible. now, _step three_ becomes a process of correlation and elimination--a process of hitting upon my main headings--setting up the milestones to mark my course of development. and i so sift the material in my mind and sort it out under appropriate captions. after a good bit of intellectual rummaging about, i find that my random thoughts on prayer fall rather naturally into four main divisions, each capable of expression in a question: i. what is prayer? ii. why should i pray? iii. how should i pray? iv. when should i pray? but now that i have these major headings, i still face the problems of enriching them and elaborating them so that they will have body enough to stand. in other words, i build up my sub-headings. under the first question, for instance, i group these thoughts: i. what is prayer? . it is communion with god. . it is the key to god's storehouse. . it is the key to god's heart. . it is "the soul's sincere desire." . it is the great anchor of faith. under question two, i group: ii. why should i pray? . because i am commanded of the lord to pray. . because through prayer i keep in tune with the spirit of the lord. . because it is through prayer that i acknowledge the goodness of god. . because through prayer i petition for needed blessings. . because through prayer i establish and preserve an attitude of humility. under question three: iii. how should i pray? . simply. . sincerely. . in spirit. . after the pattern of his prayer. . in secret as well as in public. under question four: iv. when should i pray? . regularly. . morning and evening. . to meet special needs. . my attitude should always be one of prayerfulness. this matter of organization may be diagrammatically illustrated as follows: _random thoughts_ _organized thoughts_ the hymn the song ______________ | | what is the use | focus | i. what is prayer? of prayer? | or | | aim | ii. why should i pray? are prayers answered? | | | to establish | iii. how should i pray? how often should | prayer as a | i pray? | life habit. | iv. when should i pray? |______________| what are the characteristics of a good prayer, etc.? in short, organizing involves the search for thought and the bringing of order out of chaos. having selected the aim, the main headings, and the sub-headings, we now face _step four_--the enriching of these sub-headings in illustration, incident, etc., so that we may link up these thoughts with the experience of our pupils. we may think of so much stimulating material that during the ordinary class hour we can cover well only one of these questions. our purpose and the needs of the class must determine the extent of our detail. the actual material that could be used to enrich this lesson on prayer will be given in the chapter on illustration. _step five_ involves the problem of application, or "carry-over into life"--a subject to which another chapter will be devoted. of course, we ought to say here, in passing, that application is not something added to or "tacked on" a lesson. it may be emphasized at the close of a lesson, but in reality it pervades and is inherent in the whole lesson. * * * * * questions and suggestions--chapter xv . what is meant by calling teaching a composite process? . point out the essential advantages in outlining lessons. . show how outlining is not in conflict with inspiration. . name the essential steps in lesson organization. . choose a subject from one of the manuals now in use in one of our organizations and build up a typical lesson. helpful references those listed in chapter xiv. chapter xvi illustrating and supplementing a lesson outline--chapter xvi the force of illustrations.--three kinds of illustration material: . maps; . pictures; . incidents.--the force of maps and map drawing.--the appeal of good pictures. illustrations illustrative material for a lesson on prayer. having discussed the organization of a lesson together with the formulation of the aim, let us now turn to the problem of illustrating and supplementing a lesson. in organizing a subject for teaching we drive the nails of major thoughts--through illustration we clinch those nails so that they will be less likely to pull out of the memory. the three chief classes of illustrative and supplementary material are: maps, pictures, incidents--actual, imaginary. it is clear that in the lesson outlined on prayer, in chapter fourteen, we should have little occasion for the use of a map. we can, however, in connection with that lesson, point out the force of pictures and incidents. maps naturally are of greatest service in lessons with historical and geographical background. the journeyings of israel mean so much more to us when we can follow them from place to place on a good map. so the book of mormon account clears up if we are similarly guided. had we authentic maps of the lands named in the book of mormon, how much clearer and more interesting the history would become! we would know the exact spot on our present-day maps where lehi and his family landed from their heaven-directed barges; we would know where to find the land bountiful; where may now be found the ancient site of the city of zarahemla; where flows the river sidon; what country is indicated by the "land northward"; the journeys of the nephites as they were being driven; what states saw there continued struggles against their inveterate enemies, the lamanites, and how they reached their final battle-ground near the hill cumorah. to visit with jesus in palestine adds a charm to the new testament that is really hard to evaluate, and surely the travels of our own pioneers call for the aid of a good map. thoroughly to appreciate all that they did requires that we travel over the wonderful trail they followed--that being impossible, the next nearest approach is to see actually drawn out the magnitude of their achievement. the appeal to the eye couples so forcefully with the appeal to the ear that no classroom ought to be without its maps. perhaps it is not beyond possibilities to conceive that at a not distant date we shall have made available films for class use to intensify the great lessons we draw from history. pictures make a wonderful appeal, particularly so to children. it is impossible to measure the inspirational appeal that a single masterpiece exerts on a class of boys and girls. a theological class in one of the sunday schools of salt lake county was once blessed with a most magnetic and powerful teacher. upon his death, the class had his picture framed and hung on the front wall of the room in which he had taught. from that day to this the silent inspiration of that picture has stimulated scores of young men and women to the high ideals for which he stood. more generally applicable and more easily available, of course, is the _incident_. the ability to tell a story is one of the finest attainments of the teacher--particularly if he will take the pains to find vigorously wholesome and appropriate ones. may we repeat the warning that stories ought not to be told merely to fill out the hour, nor to tickle the ears of the class, but to intensify and heighten the truths contained in our lessons. included under the heading _incident_ may be listed short poems and all kinds of literary bits that fit in appropriately as spice to a lesson. on the subject prayer, the following are some possibilities: under question i, "what is prayer?" the hymn, "prayer is the soul's sincere desire." prayer is the soul's sincere desire, uttered or unexpressed; the motion of a hidden fire that trembles in the breast. prayer is the burden of a sigh, the falling of a tear, the upward glancing of an eye, when none but god is near. prayer is the simplest form of speech that infant lips can try; prayer, the sublimest strains that reach the majesty on high. prayer is the christian's vital breath, the christian's native air; his watchword at the gates of death; he enters heav'n with prayer. prayer is the contrite sinner's voice returning from his ways, while angels in their songs rejoice, and cry, "behold, he prays!" the saints in prayer appear as one in word and deed and mind, while with the father and the son their fellowship they find. nor prayer is made on earth alone,-- the holy spirit pleads, and jesus, on the father's throne, for sinners intercedes. o thou by whom we come to god, the life, the truth, the way! the path of prayer thyself has trod; lord, teach us how to pray! the two songs: "sweet hour of prayer," "did you think to pray?" "for my soul delighteth in the song of the heart, yea, the song of the righteous is a prayer unto me, and it shall be answered with a blessing upon their heads." (doc. & cov., sec. : .) the following selection: "prayer--sweet breath from out a joyous heart wafting gratitude to heaven. "prayer--a sacred confidence between a fearful soul and god. "prayer--a holy balm which soothes and heals the scars in a wounded breast. "prayer--an angel's kiss on the longing lips of loneliness. "prayer--a rod that bars the way between the human soul and sin. "prayer--a choking sob of anguish from pain-drawn lips in plea for help." under question ii. "why should i pray?" "and that thou mayest more fully keep thyself unspotted from the world, thou shalt go to the house of prayer and offer up thy sacraments upon my holy day." (doc. & cov., sec. : .) "pray always that you enter not into temptation, that you may abide the day of his coming, whether in life or in death. even so. amen." (doc. & cov., sec. : .) "remember that that which cometh from above is sacred, and must be spoken with care, and by constraint of the spirit, and in this there is no condemnation, and ye receive the spirit through prayer; wherefore, without this there remaineth condemnation." (doc. & cov., sec. : .) "the keys of the kingdom of god are committed unto man on the earth, and from thence shall the gospel roll forth unto the ends of the earth, as the stone which is cut out of the mountain without hands shall roll forth, until it has filled the whole earth; "yea, a voice crying--prepare ye the way of the lord, prepare ye the supper of the lamb, make ready for the bridegroom; "pray unto the lord, call upon his holy name, make known his wonderful works among the people; "call upon the lord, that his kingdom may go forth upon the earth, that the inhabitants thereof may receive it, and be prepared for the days to come, in the which the son of man shall come down in heaven, clothed in the brightness of his glory, to meet the kingdom of god which is set up on the earth; "wherefore may the kingdom of god go forth, that the kingdom of heaven may come, that thou, o god, mayest be glorified in heaven so on earth, that thy enemies may be subdued; for thine is the honor, power and glory, for ever and ever. amen." (doc. & cov., sec. : - .) "watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation: the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak." (matt. : .) the following incidents were related by a member of the b.y.u. course and are typical of scores of others available for this lesson: _brother hunter's account of the manifestation of the successor to the prophet joseph_ "there was a great deal of discussion among the brethren and sisters as to who should lead the church; some thought it should be the prophet's son; some, one of his counselors, and some the president of the quorum of the twelve. i was at a loss to come to any conclusion. it worried me considerably and i prayed earnestly that god would make known to me who it should be, but without avail. "i went to the meeting that had been called and listened thoughtfully to what was said and done. the longer i listened the more mystified i became. i bowed my head in my hands and prayed for god to give me understanding. while i was in this attitude, brother brigham arose to speak, i suppose. i heard a voice--the prophet's voice as natural and true as i ever heard it. i raised up quickly, fully expecting to see the prophet, and i did. there he stood and there he spoke. i listened breathlessly. the form of the prophet gradually changed to that of brother brigham, but the voice was not brother brigham's. it was still the prophet's. then beside brother brigham i saw the prophet, who turned toward the speaker and smiled. my heart beat rapidly with joy and i knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that brother brigham was called of god to lead the church." _brother huntsman's baby healed_ "a fine, plump baby girl had come to the huntsman home. as weeks and months passed and the child failed to use its lower limbs, a doctor was called and pronounced the trouble infantile paralysis. he said that it would never walk, for experience had showed that whenever this affliction affected the lower part of the body the medical profession could not cure it. "the huntsman people were faithful latter-day saints and did not give up hope, but called in the elders. after a time conference was held at shelley and elder david o. mckay and one other of the general church authorities were in attendance--i don't remember who. after the afternoon session the child was administered to. while sealing the anointing, brother mckay promised the child the use of its limbs and every organ of the body. "that night it began to move them, and the next morning stood alone by the aid of chairs. in a few days it walked, although being fairly fleshy. soon after i moved away from shelley, but a year or so afterwards i had occasion to go to idaho falls and there i met brother and sister huntsman. the child was with them and ran and played as other children." _a psychology student receives aid_ "a friend of mine who was a student in an eastern university told the following incident of how the lord came to his aid. "the psychology class while studying the relationship of the brain to life and intelligence entered into a discussion as to the nature of intelligence, and in some way the teachings of the prophet joseph smith were brought into the discussion and jeered at, by all members except my friend, who was a "mormon." his defense brought forth ridicule and intensified the discussion. "as the class period had expired without completing the argument, a week from that day was the time set to complete it. of course, my friend felt that he should do all possible to defend the attitude of the church, so he studied, fasted and prayed, to secure the aid of inspiration, for he well knew that nothing but scientific proof would be accepted. "the day came and he realized that he was illy prepared, but still hoped for divine assistance. during the giving of evidence to dispose of the existence of intelligence separate from the workings of the brain, and ridiculing the existence of a spirit, he prayed silently and earnestly. "his turn came and he arose to speak. after the opening sentences he glanced down on the paper for his evidence and found a strange handwriting there. he says a peculiar power took possession of him. he spoke rapidly and fluently, he declared, without comprehending or at least remembering what he said. as he finished, his own writing was on the paper and he knew not what had been spoken, but there was no evidence offered to offset it. "the professor asked him to give the names of the books from which he obtained his points, and on being told that god gave them to him, he replied, 'it's strange, but i can't believe such nonsense.'" under question iii. "how should i pray?" the lord's prayer as a pattern. the prayer in gethsemane. the bee-keeper's prayer-- , june number of _young woman's journal_. "and again, i command thee that thou shalt pray vocally as well as in thy heart; yea, before the world as well as in secret, in public as well as in private." (doc. & cov., sec. : .) "therefore i say unto you, what things soever ye desire, when ye pray, believe that ye receive them, and ye shall have them." (mark : .) "at that day ye shall ask in my name: and i say unto you, that i will pray the father for you." (john : .) under question iv. "when should i pray?" "he shall pray unto god, and he will be favourable unto him: and he shall see his face with joy: for he will render unto man his righteousness." (job : .) "and now concerning the residue, let them journey and declare the world among the congregations of the wicked, inasmuch as it is given." (doc. & cov., sec. : .) "draw near unto me and i will draw near unto you: seek me diligently and ye shall find me; ask and ye shall receive; knock and it shall be opened unto you; "whatsoever ye ask the father in my name it shall be given unto you, that is expedient for you." (doc. & cov., sec. : - .) "pray always that you enter not into temptation, that you may abide the day of his coming, whether in life or in death." (doc. & cov., sec. : .) "therefore let the church take heed and pray always, lest they fall into temptation." (doc. & cov., sec. : .) "behold, i manifest unto you, joseph knight, by these words, that you must take up your cross, in the which you must pray vocally before the world as well as in secret, and in your family, and among your friends, and in all places." (doc. & cov., sec. : .) "yea, cry unto him for mercy; for he is mighty to save. "yea, humble yourselves, and continue in prayer unto him; "cry unto him when ye are in your fields; yea, over all your flocks; "cry unto him in your houses; yea, over all your household, both morning, mid-day and evening; "yea, cry unto him against the power of your enemies; "yea, cry unto him against the devil, who is an enemy to all righteousness. "cry unto him over the crops of your fields, that ye may prosper in them: "cry over the flocks in your fields, that they may increase. "but this is not all; ye must pour out your souls in your closets, and your secret places, and in your wilderness; "yea, and when you do not cry unto the lord, let your hearts be full, drawn out in prayer unto him continually for your welfare, and also for the welfare of those who are around you. "and now behold, my beloved brethren, i say unto you, do not suppose that this is all; for after ye have done all these things, if ye turn away the needy, and the naked, and visit not the sick and afflicted, and impart of your substance, if ye have, to those who stand in need; i say unto you, if ye do not any of these things, behold, your prayer is vain, and availeth you nothing, and ye are as hypocrites who do deny the faith; "therefore, if ye do not remember to be charitable, ye are as dross, which the refiners do cast out, (it being of no worth), and is trodden underfoot of men." (alma : - .) * * * * * questions and suggestions--chapter xvi . why need we illustrate general truths? . discuss the value of having pupils draw up their own maps. . give out of your own experience illustrations of the force of pictures. . point out the value in teaching of appealing to more than one of the senses. . discuss the importance of good stories in teaching. . what are the characteristics of a good illustrative story? . take an ordinarily commonplace subject and show how to illustrate it. helpful references those listed in chapter xiv. also _pictures in religious education_, by frederica beard. chapter xvii the aim outline--chapter xvii two illustrations of the value of an aim.--significance of the aim in religious training.--inadequacy of eleventh-hour preparation.--the teacher's obligation to see through facts to truths that lie beyond. what an aim is.--illustration.--how to determine the aim.--how to express it. the late jacob riis, noted author and lecturer, used to tell a very inspirational story on the force of having something to focus attention upon. according to his story, certain men who lived just outside of chicago, in its early history, had great difficulty walking to and from work during stormy weather, because of the almost impassably muddy conditions of the sidewalks. after trudging through mud and slush for a long time, they conceived the idea of laying a plank walk through the worst sections. and so they laid two six-inch planks side by side. the scheme helped wonderfully, except on short winter days when the men had to go to work in the darkness of early morning and return in the darkness of evening. it often was so dark that they would step off the planks, and once off they were about as muddy as if there had been no walk at all. finally someone suggested the idea that if a lantern were hung up at each end of the walk it would then be easy to fix the eye upon the lantern and keep on the walk. the suggestion was acted upon, and thereafter the light of the lantern did hold them to the plank. jacob riis argued that the lantern of an ideal held aloft would similarly hold young men in life's path of righteousness. a similar story is told of a farmer who experienced great difficulty in keeping a particular hen inside the run which he had built outside the hen house. he had put up a wire fence high enough, as he thought, to keep in the most ambitious chicken. in fact, he argued that no hen could fly over it. one hen persisted in getting out regularly, though the farmer could never discover how she did it. finally he decided to lay for her (she laid for him regularly). to his great surprise, he watched her walk around the run carefully surveying it as she proceeded. at length she caught sight of a beam running along the top of the wire just above the gate. with her eye fixed upon it she made one mighty effort and was over. the moral of the two stories is self-evident. both hens and men can "go over" if they have something to aim at. it is so in life generally, and what is true of life generally is particularly true in the matter of teaching. the aim is one of the most significant features in the teaching process. the teacher who knows where he is going can always get followers. important as is the aim in all educational endeavor, it is doubly so in religious training. we teach religiously not merely to build up facts or make for mental power; we teach to mold character. we should see through facts, therefore, to the fundamental truth lying behind and beyond them. such a truth constitutes an aim in religious instruction. one of the most regrettable facts connected with some of our teaching is that teachers leave the preparation of their lessons until the few minutes just preceding their recitation hour. they then hurry through a mass of facts, rush into class and mull over these dry husks, unable in the rush even to see the kernel of truth lying within. little wonder pupils tire of such rations. it is the teacher's obligation to "see through" and discover the gems that really make lessons worth while. forty-five minutes once a week is so meagre an allotment of time for the teaching of the greatest principles of life! surely every one of those minutes should be sacredly guarded for the consideration of vital truths. the aim, coupled with careful organization, is one of the best safeguards possible. the aim is the great focus for a lesson's thought. it is the center about which all else revolves. it specifies what shall be included and what excluded out of the great mass of available material. a single chapter of scripture may contain truths enough for a dozen lessons, only one of which can be treated in any one recitation. the aim singles out what can be appropriately grouped under one unified discussion. if we turn, for instance, to the ninth chapter of matthew, we find at least eight different major incidents, each one deserving a lesson in itself. there is the case of: the palsy. the charge of blasphemy. the glorifying of god by the multitude. the calling of matthew. the statement that only the sick need the physician. the case of new cloth and the old garment. the raising of the daughter of jairus. the healing of the two blind men. it is perfectly clear that all of these incidents could not be adequately considered in any one lesson. assuming that the teacher is free to handle this ninth chapter as he pleases, we are forced to the conclusion that knowing his class, as he does, he must choose that incident or that combination of incidents which will mean most in the lives of his pupils. in other words, he centers his attention upon one major central truth--his aim. by so doing he guards against wandering and inadequacy of treatment and makes for the unified presentation of one forceful thought. it ought to be pointed out here that every teacher must be the judge as to what constitutes for him the best aim. it is quite clear that any one teacher could find in this ninth chapter of matthew at least four or five worthy aims. three different teachers could possibly find as many more, each equally worthy of development. all other things being equal, that aim is best which most completely and forcefully covers the chapter or passage in question. to illustrate: suppose we are asked to teach a lesson on the prodigal son. one aim that could be chosen clearly is that of _jealousy_ on the part of the prodigal's brother. a second one might be repentance, as typified in the action of the prodigal. still a third might be the compassion and forgiveness of the father, as typical of those same qualities in our heavenly father. which, to you, is the most forceful and significant? that one to you is _your_ best aim. the wording of the aim is a matter that gives rise to a good bit of disagreement. there are those who maintain that if the aim announces the subject as a sort of heading that is sufficient. others contend that the aim should crystallize into axiomatic form the thought of the lesson. of course, the real force of the aim lies in its serving as the focus of thought. the wording of it is of secondary importance. and yet it is very excellent practice to reduce to formal statement the truth to be presented. it is helpful to adopt the ruling that the aim should express both a cause and a result. perhaps an illustration would indicate the difference between the aim stated as a mere heading, and stated fully and formally. take the case of the daughter of jairus already referred to, _mere headings_: daughter of jairus restored, or the power of faith. _formal aim_: implicit faith in god wins his choicest blessings. surely the latter is a more significant expression and offers better training to the teacher than the setting down of mere headings. the ability thus to crystallize out of a great variety of facts a single focusing statement, coupled with the ability then to build about that statement a clearly organized amplification, is the sign of a real teacher. instead of generalizing further, let us turn to the questions on this lesson where some laboratory exercises are set down calling for actual practice in the selection and justification of a number of aims. * * * * * questions and suggestions--chapter xvii . what is an aim? . why is it particularly essential to good religious teaching? . what are the objections to "eleventh-hour" preparation? . to what extent is a teacher handicapped in deciding upon an aim for another teacher to follow? . turn to the following references and determine what possible aims might be developed under each. is any aim adequate for the whole reference? in each case which do you consider your best aim? why? how much of the reference would you include in a single lesson? john, chapter i; isaiah, chapter ii; iii nephi, chapter x; doctrine & covenants, section . helpful references colgrove, _the teacher and the school_; betts, _how to teach religion_; driggs, _the art of teaching_; strayer and norsworthy, _how to teach_. chapter xviii application outline--chapter xviii the question of application.--the matter a complex one.--various conceptions of the term as it affects the intellect, the emotions, or the will.--application may be immediate or delayed.--how to make the application.--illustrations.--making the application and moralizing.--utah moral codes as objectives behind our teaching. application is one of the most important subjects in the whole range of religious education. it is also one concerning which there are greater varieties of opinions than concerning almost any other subject. what is application? how is it made? is it inherent in the lesson, or is it added as a sort of supplement to the lesson? when is it best made? does it always involve action? these questions are only typical of the uncertainty that exists relative to this term. application really goes to the very heart of all teaching. colloquially expressed, it raises the question in teaching, "what's the use?" why should certain subject matter be presented to a class? how are class members better for having considered particular facts? in short, application involves the question, "what is the _carry-over_ value of the lesson?" it is impossible to dispose adequately of the matter of application in a single statement. it fairly epitomizes the whole process of teaching and therefore is so comprehensive that it calls for analysis. the ultimate purpose behind teaching, of course, as behind all life, is salvation. but salvation is not had in a day. it is not the result of a single act, nor does it grow out of particular thoughts and aspirations. salvation is achieved as a sum total of all that we think, say, do, and _are_. any lesson, therefore, that makes pupils better in thought, word, deed, or being, has had to that extent its application. application of a lesson involves, then, the making sure, on the part of the teacher, that the truths taught carry over into the life of the pupil and modify it for good. someone has said that the application has been made when a pupil "knows more, feels better, acts more nobly," as a result of the teaching done. there is a prevalent conception that application has been made in a recitation only when pupils go out from a recitation and translate the principle studied into immediate action. there are lessons where such applications can be made and, of course, they are to be commended. particularly are they valuable in the case of young children. but surely there are other justifiable interpretations to the term application. we need to remind ourselves that there are three distinct types of subject matter that constitute the body of our teaching material. these are, first of all, those lessons which are almost wholly intellectual. debates are conducted by the hundreds on subjects that lead not to action but to clearer judgment. classes study subjects by the month for the purpose of satisfying intellectual hunger. such questions, for instance, as "succession in the presidency," or the "nature of the godhead"--questions gone into by thoroughly converted latter-day saints, not to bring themselves into the church, nor to lead themselves into any other kind of action except the satisfying of their own souls as to the truth. in other words, it appears clear that there may be application on a purely intellectual level. application upon application is made until a person builds up a structure of faith that stands upon the rock in the face of all difficulties. a second type of lessons appeals to the emotions. they aim to make pupils _feel_ better. they may or may not lead to immediate action. ideally, of course, every worthy emotion aroused should find, if possible, suitable channels for expression. pent up emotions may become positively harmful. the younger the pupils the more especially is this true. practically every educator recognizes this fact and gives expression to it in language similar to the following quotation from professor s.h. clark: "never awaken an emotion unless, at the same time, you strive to open a channel through which the emotion may pass into the realm of elevated action. if we are studying the ideals of literature, religion, etc., with our class, we have failed in the highest duty of teaching if we have not given them the ideal, if we have not given them, by means of some suggestion, the opportunity for realizing the ideal. if there is an emotion excited in our pupils through a talk on ethics or sociology, it matters not, we fail in our duty, if we do not take an occasion at once to guide that emotion so that it may express itself in elevated action." and yet there is a question whether this insistence upon action may not be exaggerated. abraham lincoln witnessed an auction sale of slaves in his younger days. he did not go out immediately and issue an emancipation proclamation, and yet there are few who can doubt that that auction sale registered an application in an ideal that persisted in the mind of lincoln through all those years preceding our great civil war. many a man has been saved in the hour of temptation, in his later life, by the vividness of the recollection of sacred truths taught at his mother's knee. there may be just a little danger of cheapening the process of application if it is insisted that for every ideal impressed upon the minds of pupils there must be a corresponding immediate response in daily actions of the pupils taught. may not a wonderful impression become the more wonderful as it is hallowed by the pondering of the mind through the maturing years of childhood and young manhood? finally there is the lesson which, though it involves both the intellect and the emotions, appeals primarily to the will and calls for action. there can be no question but that this is the type of lesson of greatest significance in religious education. we meet our pupils so infrequently, at best, that at most we can do but a fraction of what we should like to do to modify their lives. our concern is to change for the better their attitude and conduct, and therefore we must address ourselves to the problems they face in the every-day life which they are to live between recitations. as betts in his _how to teach religion_ so well says: "in the last analysis the child does not come to us that he may learn this or that set of facts, nor that he may develop such and such a group of feelings, but that through these he may live better. the final test of our teaching, therefore, is just like this: because of our instruction, does the child live differently here and now, as a child, in all his multiform relations in the home, the school, the church, the community, and in his own personal life? are the lessons we teach translated continuously into better conduct, finer acts, and stronger character, as shown in the daily run of the learner's experience? "it is true that the full fruits of our teaching and of the child's learning must wait for time and experience to bring the individual to fuller development. but it is also true that it is impossible for the child to lay up a store of unused knowledge and have it remain against a later time of need in a distant future. the only knowledge that forms a vital part of our equipment is knowledge that is in active service, guiding our thoughts and decisions from day to day. unused knowledge quickly vanishes away, leaving little more permanent impression on the life than that left on the wave when we plunge our hand into the water and take it out again. in similar way the interests, ideals, and emotions which are aroused, without at the same time affording a natural outlet for expression in deeds and conduct, soon fade away without having fulfilled the purpose for which they exist. the great thing in religious education is to find immediate and natural outlet in expression, a way for the child to use what he learns; to get the child to do those things pointed out by the lessons we teach him." as the teacher faces this "carry-over" problem he is impressed that he must touch the lives of his pupils not only as individuals but as members of a social group. it becomes his obligation not only to direct them in matters pertaining to their own welfare, physically, intellectually, and morally, but he has a responsibility in helping to establish the standards of society to which individuals naturally subscribe more or less unconsciously. the strong teacher's influence can be made to affect the ideals of the athletic field, of the amusement hall, of the church, of the business center, and of the home. these agencies offer such a variety of possibilities that every lesson offers easily some avenue of application. by way of illustration let us turn to a few subjects and point out some possibilities in the matter of application. may it be said here, in passing, that the secret of making application lies in not getting lost in the past so that we may walk along with our heads turned back over the shoulder of time pondering merely the things of the past. all too often the teacher hurries over into the holy land of some four thousand years ago, leaving a class of twentieth century boys and girls here at home to wonder what all that ancient material has to do with the problems that confront them here and now. not that we should ignore the past. successful application lies in reaching back into the past for a solution of today's difficulties. but the _solution_ is our great concern. "we look back that we may the better go forward." to illustrate: a lesson on cain and abel may find its application in a solution of the problems of the jealousy and selfishness that exist today. this story ought not to be merely a recounting of murder. there is a little cain--a little abel--in all of us. consider the case of the boy who smashed up his brother's new sled as well as his own, because he couldn't keep up in coasting. the nature of the class will determine the particular application. or consider the story of samson and delilah: at first thought, a story with but little to contribute to a solution of today's problems. yet out of that story application can be made beautifully, through either of these two truths: he who plays with sin will eventually be conquered by it; or, marrying outside one's church is attended by grave dangers. a lesson on helpfulness was once beautifully and rather dramatically given through the story of a rescue of a train. a lad was out at play on a railroad track when he discovered that a recent storm had washed out part of the road bed. he remembered that the through passenger train was due in a few minutes, and so rushed along the track and by frantically waving his hat succeeded in stopping the train just in time to prevent a terrible catastrophe. a few well-directed questions called for the pupils' own idea of application. they, too, would flag a train if such an occasion should arise. they could help people generally to guard against danger. they even carried the idea over into rendering any kind of service, about the home, at school, and elsewhere, as long as it was helpful. and so illustrations could be multiplied. the important thing is that, having decided upon a central truth for a lesson, the teacher then conceives avenues whereby the truth may be carried over through action into the lives of pupils. and, of course, he must see that they are directed in setting about the action. the question often arises, "isn't there danger of moralizing in making an application?" or "what is the difference between an application and moralizing?" genuine and natural application ought to be inherent in the material presented. a good story ought to drive home its message without further comment. moralizing consists of "tacking on" some generalized exhortation relative to conduct. moralizing is either an unnecessary and unwelcome injunction to be or to do good, or it is an apology for a lesson that in and of itself drives home no message. the school boy's definition of moralizing is helpful and suggestive: "_moralizing is rubbing goodness in unnecessarily._" in making application of truths presented, teachers naturally face the question as to what constitutes the fundamentals in character development that are to be achieved. as a sort of guide, the two utah codes of morals, one for children and one for youths, are rich in suggestion, both for pupil and teacher. they are submitted herewith as helpful in setting up the objectives toward which we are working: children's code i want to grow up to be wise and strong, happy and able to make others happy, to love and to be loved, and to do my part in the world's work. during my infancy loving hands cared for me, gave me food, clothing and shelter, and protected me from harm. i am grateful for this care, and i want to be worthy of the love and confidence of my mother and father and to do all i can to make them happy. i will be obedient to my parents and teachers; they are wiser than i and thoughtful of my welfare. i have already learned that good health is necessary to strength and happiness, and that in order to be well and to grow strong, i must have good, wholesome food, ample exercise and sleep, and abundant pure water and fresh air--nature's free gifts to all. my whole body i will keep clean and each part of it as sound as good care can make it. i will have respect for all useful work, both mental and physical. i must learn to be helpful that i may know the joy of service and the dignity of work well done. i will begin now to earn some of the things i use. i must learn how to spend, and how to be generous. waste is the mother of want, and even though the want may not be mine, if i am extravagant i am likely to bring suffering to others. waste of time is as wrong as waste of things; i will not be an idler. i will not put unnecessary burdens upon my associates by untidy, careless habits; orderly ways save my own time and things as well as those of others. i will take thought for the comfort and welfare of our animal friends and will always avoid cruelty. i will strive for courage to speak the truth and for strength to be fair in all my work and play, to be true to my word and faithful to my trust. i hate lying and cheating; they are signs of cowardice and greed. i will not seek pleasure or profit at the cost of my self-respect. i will be considerate of the rights and feeling of others as i would have them respect mine. i will try to control my temper and to be cheerful, kind, and courteous in all my dealings. i will strive to be pure in thought, speech and action. my country has provided laws and civil officers to protect me, schools for my instruction, and many other aids to a happy, useful life. i am grateful for these benefits and will show my patriotism by obeying the laws and defending my country against evils, both within and without. i will keep my eyes and ears open to enjoy the world about me, and my mind alert to understand and appreciate the good things mankind has provided for me--science and art, poetry and music, history and story. may god, the kind and loving father, help me all my life to see the right way and to follow it. moral code for youths i am happy to be a member of that great human society which has accumulated all the treasures of civilization. i have benefited by the united labors of all mankind; for this i owe a debt of gratitude to humanity, a debt i can pay only by serving that humanity to the fullest extent of my ability. through small services freely given toward the comfort and happiness of my associates, i may grow in power of usefulness and in my turn contribute to the welfare of the generations that are to come. my body is the instrument of my mind and the foundation of my character. every organ must be conserved to perform its proper function in the development and perfection of my life. i will, therefore, eat only wholesome food, breathe pure air, take ample exercise and sleep, and keep my body clean and sound. to this end, i will refrain from the use of intoxicating drinks, narcotics and stimulants; these lend only a seeming strength, but in reality they undermine my powers of service and of lasting happiness. by abstaining from these indulgences i can, moreover, help others to abstain, and thereby increase their strength and happiness. by temperate living and plenty of exercise in the open i can preserve my health and the more easily refrain from evil thoughts and evil deeds. i will not pollute my body or that of another by any form of self-indulgence or perverse yielding to passion. such indulgence is a desecration of the fountains of life and an insult to the dignity of manhood and womanhood. through the formation of sane, health-promoting habits i can avoid having my usefulness diminished and my happiness impaired by the consequences of my own folly. i will be modest in dress and manner, that i may in no wise encourage sensuality. i will be thoughtful of the effects of my actions and so restrain myself that no act of mine may mar the life or detract from the happiness of my associates or of my successors. i will deal honestly, fairly and kindly with my fellows--always mindful that their lives and their happiness are as sacred to them as mine are to me. i will avoid impatience and ill temper and will endeavor to be courteous always. i will try to save individuals rather than to condemn them, even though their evil deeds must be condemned and offenders punished. i will have respect for the time of my fellows as i respect their property. i will not engage in games of chance, since i do not desire reward at the expense of others. in all my dealings i will strive for courage to speak the truth; i despise cowardice and lying. i will do what i know to be right, though others may ridicule or scorn me. i will be personally responsible for all that i do, and, recognizing my limited wisdom, i will ever seek divine guidance to lead me in the right way. i will strive for independence of judgment, but with due regard for the superior wisdom of my elders. i must grant to my fellows the same right of independent judgment that i claim for myself. whatever i undertake i will do with my might, and, win or lose, accept the result with good cheer. i would rather be worthy of success than to secure it unworthily. i will be prompt and orderly in all my affairs, otherwise i become a hindrance to social efficiency. i will avoid waste and extravagance lest i bring needless privation and suffering to others as well as to myself. it is my privilege to have a part in the world's work--a part i must choose and perform with all diligence. "what can i do best that society needs most?" when i have answered this question i will pursue my vocation intelligently and energetically; first, as a means of service to my fellow-men; and second, as a means of self-support and aid to those that may be dependent upon me. may the love and appreciation i have for my country never be dishonored by any act of lawlessness or want of loyalty, but may i ever honor, uphold and obey the law and defend my country against unrighteousness, injustice and violence. when it becomes my privilege to vote i will use the right of suffrage as a patriotic means of co-operating with my fellow citizens for the promotion of social justice, peace and progress. should i be called to public office, i will strive for moral courage to exercise authority in accord with justice and humanity; and, whether in or out of office, i will respond freely to every opportunity for public service. i am grateful for the beauties of nature and for the great works of art, music, literature and science, it is my privilege to enjoy. these i will seek to understand and appreciate, that i may cultivate broader sympathies and fellowship with mankind, the world, and the creator of all. * * * * * questions and suggestions--chapter xviii . how does application go to the very heart of teaching? . discuss the various conceptions of the term. . distinguish between immediate and delayed application. . discuss the possibility of intellectual application. . how can applications best be made? . when can applications best be made? . distinguish between making an application and moralizing. helpful references weigle, _talks to sunday school teachers_; betts, _how to teach religion_; brumbaugh, _the making of a teacher_; betts, _the recitation_; strayer and norsworthy, _how to teach_; thorndike, _principles of teaching_; colgrove, _the teacher and the school_. chapter xix methods of the recitation outline--chapter xix the question of method raised.--danger of an entire disregard of method.--the case of the "born" teacher.--sound pedagogy largely a matter of common sense.--danger of being committed to a single method.--the five possible methods: the story method; reading 'round; the special topic; the lecture; the discussion. two of the most practical questions that a teacher ever has to solve are: how shall i go about to prepare a lesson? having prepared a lesson, how shall i set about to teach it to my class? the first of these questions has already been discussed in preceding chapters; the second now calls for our consideration. is there a _one best method_? if so, what is it? what steps does it involve? instead of answering these questions directly, perhaps it will be better to point out the various methods of the recitation, set down their characteristics and relative values, and then formulate a conclusion. at the outset it may be advisable to sound two notes of warning. one is against an entire disregard of methods. there are those persons who believe that teachers are born, not made, and that therefore a discussion of methods is useless. the born teacher, say these persons, just teaches naturally according to his own personality. to change his method would be to destroy his effectiveness. if he isn't a teacher then the study of methods will not make him one. in either case work done on methods is lost. of course, experience refutes both contentions. it is admittedly true that great teachers are born to their work--that some individuals just naturally impress others and stimulate them to high ideals. and yet there is no one so gifted that he cannot improve through a study of the game he is to play. most great athletes are by nature athletic. and yet every one of them trains to perfect himself. the best athletes america sent to the olympic games were wonderfully capable men, but they were wonderfully trained men, as well. they had studied the _methods_ of their particular sports. great singers are born with great vocal potentialities, but the greatest singers become so as the result of thorough training. _methods_ elevate them to fame. what is true of the other arts ought also to be true of teaching. as to the class of teachers not born to the calling, it seems perfectly clear that here is the great opportunity for a study of the fundamentals underlying good teaching. sound pedagogy is just a matter of good, common sense. any normal person by studying how to do anything ought in the end to come to do that thing better than if he ignored it. i may not know how to operate an automobile. but if i study how to operate one, if i observe those who do know how, and if i practice operating one--surely i shall come to be more efficient as a chauffeur. but while many will admit that this law of development applies in the mechanical world, they hold that there is something mystic about teaching for which only a pedagogical birthright is a solution. the fallacy of such a contention seems too evident to call for argument. at least the only sensibly hopeful view to take in such a church as ours, in which so many members must perforce be called to be teachers, is that power in teaching can be developed as it can in any other field of endeavor. the other bit of warning applies to the kind of teacher who is unalterably committed to a single method, not only as the best method, but the only one worth following. method depends so essentially on the personality of the teacher, on the nature of the pupils taught, and on the subject matter to be presented, that it is a very dangerous thing to say that, in spite of circumstances, one method is invariably the best method. let us, then, turn to the different methods and consider their relative values. five possibilities immediately suggest themselves: . the story method. . the "reading 'round" method. . the special topic method. . the lecture method. . the discussion method, built up through questions and answers. . _the story method._ the story is the method for childhood. "all the world loves a story." children certainly are a part of that world. how they thrill in response to the appeal of a good story. their little souls fairly seem to open to receive it. what an opportunity--what a sacred trust--is the teacher's as he undertakes to satisfy that soul hunger! the subject, the story, has been so fully gone into by brother driggs in his book, _the art of teaching_, that we need not attempt to discuss it fully here. then, too, so many other excellent books have been written on the art of the story that the teacher need only be referred to them. suffice it here to make two observations in passing. the best stories for purposes of religious instruction should possess four essential characteristics: point--brevity--message--adaptation to the experience of pupils. and, of course, this message should be a truth appropriate to the occasion--a message heightened by the spirit of the gospel of jesus christ. the second observation has to do with the telling of the story. naturally it should be well told. but the story hour should not be one of mere telling. the child, in addition to listening to the story, should be given opportunity to express its reaction to the story told--should be directed in discovering the avenue through which it will carry into action the emotion aroused by the story. . _the "reading 'round" method._ the old idea of a class coming together and sitting through a process of reading in turn from the one book in the class as it was passed about is largely a thing of the past. let us hope that the day when neither teacher nor pupil prepared his lesson is gone forever. surely "reading 'round" is a poor substitute for preparation. and it clearly is a dull, routine method of procedure. but there was one merit attached to it that is worthy our consideration. it did bring the scriptures into the hands of our pupils. whatever method we may follow, this contact with the actual word of the lord is a valuable asset. we cannot advocate resorting to the old notion of "reading 'round" as an apology for a recitation, but we can well point out the merit of seeing to it that pupils see and read the scriptures. if the lesson can be so conducted that reading is indulged in as a supplementary laboratory exercise--a turning through of gems that entice the reader to make further study of the book--then reading can be made a very valuable factor in the teaching process. then, too, it is educational just to have members of a class turn through the scriptures to know what they are--what books are involved and where they may be found. ignorance with respect to the scriptures is alarmingly prevalent. the following report taken from the _new york tribune_ relative to a simple test in bible literature, given by an eastern university to students, is significant: "out of only reached %; received less than %; could not name a single book of the old testament. some who did spelled them salms, joob, etc. some named paul, babylonians, and gentiles as old testament books." surely much might be said in favor of the use of books in our classes. . _the special topic method._ much can be said both for and against the topic method. at least three objections to its use can be raised: a. it makes for piece-meal preparation. the lesson is partitioned off into segments, one of which may be prepared by a particular pupil who does not concern himself at all with the rest of the lesson. this method, therefore, encourages fragmentary and incomplete preparation. b. it makes for a disconnected presentation which makes it quite impossible for pupils to get a unified conception of the whole lesson. this is doubly bad, because of the fact that frequently those who are assigned parts absent themselves from class. c. it often results in dull, commonplace recitations. all too frequently, especially if topic assignments are the usual method of procedure, those pupils given the various topics to work up content themselves with very meagre preparation. they come to class, therefore, and merely run over so many facts wholly without inspiration and often by constant reference to notes or the text. of course, these difficulties can be overcome largely by the judicious use of the topic method. it ought not generally to be followed as the regular order of business, but rather as a supplementary means of enriching the lesson. it ought not to be used so as to excuse all class members from regular preparation of the lesson as a whole. if the teacher will assign the lesson proper to all of the class and then select certain aspects--certain suggested problems--for more intensive research, the reports on special topics can be made to contribute wonderfully to the richness of the class hour. the topic method, then, is primarily a supplemental method, and if wisely used has these advantages: a. it makes for an enriched lesson. it makes possible expert opinion, and the results of special, careful investigation which the class as a whole would be unable to make. b. it lends variety to class procedure and guarantees that the teacher will not do all the talking. c. it fosters individual expression. it trains pupils to formulate an attack, to organize findings, and to stand and deliver a connected and well thought out message. d. it promotes a habit of investigation--it leads pupils to work out for themselves the problems of the gospel which they encounter. . _the lecture method._ the comment of a student of the brigham young university on the lecture method was unique: "the lecture method wouldn't be so bad if a teacher really lectured--he usually just talks. and talking a lot when you haven't much to say is pretty discouraging to a class." aimless talking which indulges in the main in vague generalities can never be justified. _preaching_ presumes a pulpit and has little place in classwork. the teacher who persists in talking most of the time overvalues his own thoughts and minimizes the ideas of others. much talking stifles initiative and independent thinking. then, too, it gives no opportunity for developing pupils' power of self-expression and provides no means for the teacher to check the reaction going on in the pupils' minds--assuming that one goes on! it is astonishing what erroneous notions members of a class can get from merely hearing a lesson presented. given a chance to express their conclusions, they will themselves correct many of their false impressions. there are occasions, however, when a lecture is extremely valuable. frequently after several weeks of discussion a class is hungry to hear "the truth about the matter." there is then afforded a splendid opportunity for the teacher to drive home a real message. then, too, specialists, because of their advanced study on a particular subject, can often present in an hour the results of years of investigation. furthermore, in a lecture, the teacher can make an emotional appeal which is practically out of the question in other methods. his enthusiasm and conviction can be made to "carry" his pupils to the contemplation of new truths. used with discretion, the _real lecture_ is a valuable asset in teaching; indulged in regularly as _mere talking_ or _preaching_, the method ought certainly to be discouraged. . _the discussion method._ this method, built upon questions and their answers, is commendable for its democracy and because of the fact that it stimulates both thought and discussion on the part of most if not all of the pupils. questions are so vital to good teaching that chapter xxi will be devoted to their consideration. suffice it to say here that for all practical purposes it is the basis of the best teaching. discussions make it possible to reach pupils "where they are"--make it possible for everyone to contribute of his experience to everyone else. the one outstanding difficulty with the discussion method lies in the fact that it calls for such skilful direction. it so easily runs off on tangents that the teacher is kept on his mettle holding to the subject in hand. after all, each method has its advantages and its disadvantages. there are times when any one of them can be profitably used; it is clear that any one of them can be abused--can be made more or less monotonous. perhaps we can wisely conclude that, "_the best method is a variety of methods._" * * * * * questions and suggestions--chapter xix . why is it essential that teachers study methods of the recitation? . what method do you regularly follow? why? . to what extent is it that a born teacher teaches without method? . what is pedagogy? . discuss the relative value of each of the five methods listed in this chapter. . discuss the statement, "the best method is a variety of methods." helpful references betts, _how to teach religion_; betts, _the recitation_; earhart, _types of teaching_; bagley, _classroom management_; strayer and norsworthy, _how to teach_. chapter xx review and preview outline--chapter xx the need of review in our church teaching.--review a real help to learning in that it makes for: repetition, proper connection, proper evaluation of truth. an intelligent review is the result only of thorough preparation on the part of the teacher.--assignment and preparation.--ability to make assignments a test of good teaching. characteristics of a good assignment: it is definite.--it raises a problem.--it connects with the experience of pupils.--it stimulates to action. general and specific assignments.--when to make assignments. each organization within the church follows regularly its own course of study. at the beginning of the year it sets out upon a prescribed subject subdivided according to the number of meetings scheduled for the year's work. as a result, no one lesson stands out independent of all others, but rather fits in naturally in a sequence of chapters each of which develops some aspects of one big subject. because of such a plan the matters of review and preview take on vital significance. each lesson should be made to link up naturally with what has already been presented and should point out by way of anticipation what is to follow. many educators maintain that the ability to conduct a good review and to make an effective assignment are two of the surest tests of a good teacher. the problem of review is really one of the most fundamental processes in education. it is the great key to learning. anyone who has enjoyed the fun of teaching young children how to read has been impressed with the fact that the child has to be led to see and repeat the simplest words over and over again before they are really mastered. it is really astonishing how many times as simple a word as "ran" has to be repeated before the beginner in reading gets it fully into his consciousness. this very difficulty of teaching mere words or letters has led to the abandonment of the old "a-b-c" drill as the first step in reading, and the substitution for it of an indirect method wherein, through the laws of association, groups of words and sentences are mastered as the symbols which express concrete and objectified ideas. but by way of experiment, one of the most impressive experiences open to teachers is to take a child of four or five that has not been taught to read and attempt to drill into its consciousness a group of half a dozen words as simple as these: cat, fan, hat, get, man, jam. to the teacher who has attempted such an experiment no argument is necessary to prove the significance of review and repetition. review, then, first of all, is vitally essential because it makes possible impression through repetition which insures the fixing of ideas. literally, review means to view again. psychologically it is to repeat the processes of mind which were called into operation the first time the stimulus in question started a mental reaction. the nervous system of man is so constituted that in the acquirement of knowledge, each time the nerve centers react to the same stimulus, the tendency so to react becomes stronger, under the mere presence of the stimulus, starts up an automatic sort of reaction, and we say that the child knows the meaning of the object constituting the stimulus. not only is review thus essential in the beginning of the learning process with children, but it remains a vital factor as long as men and women undertake to learn. review guarantees recall, and recall re-establishes "nerve connections" to the permanent fixing of impressions. very little of our knowledge remains ours to a purpose unless it is gone over and over until it is thoroughly established. a truth that is taught in a mutual lesson on a particular tuesday night, but which is never referred to again, and therefore never recalled, very likely will soon be gone out of consciousness and usefulness. those truths and facts which are of greatest functioning value to us are those which we continue to run over in our minds and ponder. the reinforcement of review is what establishes our permanent working stock of truth. not only is review valuable as a matter of recall, but it makes for an enrichment of mental content which is altogether desirable. the real art of review lies in calling up an old truth in a new setting. upon second perusal it is seen in skilful review from a slightly different angle so that each recall adds a reinforcement that makes for a clinching of thought which makes it permanent. it very often happens that the first time an idea is called to our attention it means but little, because our mental reaction is limited in the particular field of the presentation; the same idea in a new setting more in keeping with our experience may take on an entirely different significance. that teaching is best, therefore, which presents truth from the greatest number of angles possible, thereby guaranteeing the richest kind of associations in the minds of pupils. another value that attaches to the review lies in the fact that it makes possible proper connection between new material and old. it is axiomatic in teaching that pupils learn new truths and take on new experiences, in terms of the old. teaching that unfolds--that develops new ideas that are built upon those already understood--is the kind of teaching attended by best results. in our organizations, meeting as we do only once a week, we must appreciate the fact that in the intervening time, between meetings, hundreds of ideas have crowded into the mind and have displaced those that may have been there as a result of our teaching. by calling to mind those ideas of a week ago, we not only reinforce them, but we start a chain of thought to which it will be very much easier to add the link of today's work than to proceed as if forging an entirely new chain. no farmer goes out and plants grain on the unplowed field. he plows and harrows that the soil may be prepared not only to receive the seed, but to make generation possible. a review simply turns over the stubble field of the preceding week's work, making ready for the planting of new seeds that they may generate and develop. still a further value in the matter of review lies in the fact that the review makes more easily possible the proper evaluation of the facts taught. in every lesson there are major facts and truths presented and also those minor or subordinate ones that serve to amplify and illustrate. all too frequently a class becomes so involved in the minor details that it may fail to grasp fully the big, underlying truth. by careful review, the teacher can make the essentials stand out in relief. these are the things that need to be pondered. if they are properly grasped, thanks to the laws of association, most of the minor facts will naturally attach themselves, so that truths can be retained in all of their richness of detail. it is surprising to find how frequently pupils who have spent a year on the book of mormon have very little notion of the big, outstanding features of the book. they apparently have run over each week's lesson as so many independent facts, never coming back to single out the essential things in that early american civilization. surely no class ought to complete the course without clearly comprehending such major items as: the contribution each of the three colonies made to book of mormon civilization. the general geographical location of each colony. the outstanding characters in the book. the coming forth of the book. why it is essential. how our faith depends largely upon it. the ministry of the savior on this continent. gospel teachings of the book of mormon. what is true of the study of the book of mormon is equally true of all other subjects. it is so easy to get lost in a maze of facts, in a course in the principles of the gospel, and yet if a teacher will hold to such basic considerations as the articles of faith, coming back to them regularly and linking facts presented under the appropriate article, it is equally easy to complete the course with a clearly defined, skeletonized basis for all future study. two conclusions seem obvious: as teachers we ought to conduct reviews regularly and frequently; we ought to prepare for them as one of the most vital factors in teaching. important as is the review, the preview or assignment is equally vital. to quote from colgrove's _the teacher and the school_: "_importance and value of good lesson assignment._ from the foregoing consideration it is clear that no other part of the teacher's work exceeds in value and importance the proper planning and assignment of the daily lessons. it is supplying the class and the school with a definite plan of work. it is preparing the mind of each individual pupil for the reception of new truths and whetting his intellectual appetite for a feast of good things. it inspires confidence by pointing out to the pupil just how he can use his past lessons and acquisitions to make new conquests. it prevents pupils from misunderstanding the lesson or approaching it with indifference or positive aversion. it enables the pupil to approach the new lesson in a perceiving mood, and helps pupils to form the habit of being successful in their work and of making a daily application of their old knowledge. it prevents the teacher from degenerating into a mere talker, and, where textbooks are used, should be the most vital part of the recitation." the assignment is the great guarantee of a good recitation. it sets up objectives--it points the way--it starts the thought process that is to produce a discussion worth while at the subsequent meeting of the class. much has been said recently against the practice on the part of the teacher of saying, "take chapter three for next time." there are superintendents of schools who refuse to keep such teachers in their service. to make such an assignment, particularly in classes that meet only once a week, and especially if the assignment is made, as is too usually the case, after the signal for class dismissal has been given, is to promise the pupils a week in advance that their next lesson will be very much of a failure. a good assignment is characterized by several very definite features. in the first place it is perfectly clear. given at a time when pupils are following it, it gives specific direction as to the work to be done ahead in preparation. it indicates the direction of intellectual travel, points out sources of material, and indicates what is to be looked for. reference or textbooks are so pointedly referred to that pupils not only remember their names, they want to turn to them to enjoy their contributions. in the second place, a good assignment raises a problem which is a challenge to the mental powers of pupils. it should carry a force of anticipation that capitalizes on that great mover to action--curiosity. for instance, if the lesson to be assigned is one on baptism, instead of simply naming certain pages in a text to be read, the skilful teacher may well challenge his class by bringing in a clipping from a periodical or from some other source attempting to prove that sprinkling is the correct method of baptism, or that baptism is not essential to a man's obtaining salvation? how can members of the class meet such an argument? one of their first thoughts will likely be a query as to where available material may be turned to. how easy, then, to give references, etc. some such problem can be raised relative to every lesson taught, and it is a wonderful force as an intellectual appetizer. it should both prompt to action and point to the path to be followed. the question is often raised as to whether the assignment should be general or specific. perhaps the best answer involves both kinds. there ought ordinarily to be a general assignment that affects all of the members of a class. the class is made up of all the individuals in the group--its discussing ought therefore to be so made up. but in addition to this general assignment, specific topics given to particular members add an enrichment to the recitation of very great value. the services of the specialist are always of inestimable value. that class is best wherein each member in turn becomes a specialist in looking up and bringing in vital observations on life. as to the best time for making assignments, it is rather hard to give a ruling that best fits all cases. preferably the assignment should grow out of the discussion of the lesson in hand, and therefore logically comes at the end of the recitation rather than at the beginning. there are teachers, however, who, fearing interruption at the end of the hour, map out their work so carefully that they can make the assignment at the outset, merely calling attention to it at the close of the hour. all other things being equal, if the teacher will make himself hold sacred the time necessary at the end of the hour for this all important matter of assignment, it is likely that best results will follow having the assignment of the next lesson grow naturally out of the work of today. the important thing, however, is that at some point in the recitation, the teacher shall take plenty of time to make a carefully planned and challenging announcement of the work ahead. * * * * * questions and suggestions--chapter xx . why is it essential to good teaching that regular reviews be conducted? . why are reviews more necessary in our religious work than in regular school work? . what are the chief purposes of a review? . by taking a current lesson of one of the auxiliary organizations, illustrate the work done in a good review. . why it is of vital importance that a teacher give special preparation to a review? . show how good class preparation is conditional upon the proper kind of assignment. . what are the characteristics of a good assignment? . what is the best time for making the assignment? . show how to make a good assignment of a current lesson from one of the organizations. helpful references betts, _the recitation_; betts, _how to teach religion_; colvin, _the learning process_; colgrove, _the teacher and the school_; strayer and norsworthy, _how to teach_. chapter xxi the question as a factor in education outline--chapter xxi taking stock.--miss stevens' study on questioning.--miss stevens quoted.--various types of questions: a. the review question; b. the fact question; c. the leading question; d. the thought or challenging question.--some questions on questioning. how many questions do you ask regularly during a recitation? what proportion of those questions are answered in full and complete statements? how many of the answers to your questions are a matter merely of memory? how many reveal original, creative thinking? such questions as these not only impress us with the force of the question as a means of teaching, but they lead us to examine into our own method of asking them. the whole teaching process so easily and unconsciously develops into a matter of routine that it is good practice occasionally to take stock of ourselves. it is surprising to find how many teachers develop a particular type of question which becomes their sole stock in trade. miss ronniett stevens, in her thesis, _the question as a measure of efficiency in instruction_, has made one of the most enlightening studies yet made on the matter of questioning. her results are quoted by weigle, in his _talks to sunday school teachers_, in a passage of interest, not only because of miss stevens' findings, but also because of mr. weigle's own conclusions: "one of the outstanding differences, in present practice, between the public and the sunday school, is that most public school teachers ask too many questions and most sunday school teachers do not ask questions enough. for the first half of this statement there is ample evidence in the careful study by miss ronniett stevens on _the question as a measure of efficiency in instruction_. miss stevens secured complete stenographic reports of twenty high school lessons in english, history, science, latin, modern languages, and mathematics; she observed one hundred more such lessons chosen at random, with a view to counting and noting the number and nature of the questions asked in each; and she followed each ten classes through an entire day's work for the purpose of studying the aggregate question-stimulus to which each was subjected in the course of the day. "the results of her study are surprising. in only eight of the twenty lessons completely reported the teacher asked less than ninety questions in the period of forty-five minutes, the average being sixty-eight. in each of the remaining twelve lessons more than ninety questions were asked in the same period of time, the average being . a freshman class in high school, in a day's work of five periods of forty minutes each, not counting gymnasium, was subjected to questions and expected to return answers, which is at the rate of : questions and : answers per minute. the lowest number of questions recorded in a day's work for a class was , and the average number . "such rapid-fire questioning, miss stevens rightly holds, defeats its own ends. it maintains a nervous tension in the classroom that must in the long run be injurious. more than that, it is a symptom of the fact that the real work of the hour is being done by the teacher, and the pupil's share is reduced simply to brief, punctuation-like answers to the teacher's questions. such questions appeal to mere memory or to superficial judgment rather than to real thought; they cultivate in the pupil neither independent judgment nor the power of expression; they ignore individual needs and discourage initiative; they make out of the classroom a place to display knowledge, rather than a laboratory in which to acquire it. "the second half of the proposition, that most sunday school teachers do not ask questions enough, has not been established by any such investigation as that of miss stevens. a similar study, on the basis of complete stenographic reports, of typical sunday school lessons, would be a most valuable addition to our resources in the field of religious pedagogy. till such a study is made, one must simply record his conviction that sunday school teachers, as a general rule, ask too few, rather than too many questions. this conviction is based upon general observation and upon the frequency of such remarks as, 'i just can't get my class to study,' 'there are only two or three who ever answer my questions,' 'my pupils don't know anything about the bible,' 'as long as i do all the talking, things go all right,' etc." weigle, _talks to sunday school teachers_. the whole matter of questioning can be made to stand out most clearly, perhaps, by listing the various types of question, the purposes which each type serves, and the characteristics of a good question. first of all there is the _review question_. the great purpose of this type of question is to systematize knowledge. of course, it is valuable as an aid to recollection--it is a challenge to memory--but it is particularly helpful in that it makes the big essential points in a course stand out in relief with minor points properly correlated and subordinated. the review question is a guide to the pupil whereby he may see the relative significance of the work he has covered. one of our great difficulties lies in the fact that our teaching is so largely piece-meal. today's lesson is hurried through, isolated as it is from all that has gone before and all that may follow. the successful teacher through the review makes each lesson a link in the chain of thought that underlies the whole development of the subject in hand. the review question is essentially a carefully thought out, searching inquiry. it calls for a turning over, in the mind, of the material of the whole course and therefore should allow ample time for pondering. if it does not stimulate a "weighing process," it likely is merely a fact question--a test of memory. of course, there is a place at times for this hurried type of question, but it serves the purpose only of "connecting up" and should not be mistaken for the evaluating question of review. the following questions on the expulsion of the saints from missouri are illustrative review questions: . to what extent, if any, were the latter-day saints themselves responsible for their expulsion from missouri? . to what extent were the persecutions of missouri political? religious? . how do you account for the fact that the lord's people have always been a chastened people? . show how the missouri persecutions have been ultimately a blessing to the latter-day saints. the second type of question is the _fact_ question. it serves to check up on mental alertness and recall. it is often helpful in arresting attention and therefore has a certain disciplinary function. the teacher, of course, must make sure that his pupils are grasping the subject-matter presented, and the fact question serves admirably as a test of knowledge. it is usually a short question calling for a short answer, and therefore may be used in a rapid-fire way that stimulates thought. it is this type of question that is hurled so frequently at classes with the consequences pointed out in the quotation from miss stevens. the same author lists as objections to the continued use of these rapid-fire questions the following bad features. they result in: . nervous tension. . the teacher's doing most of the work. . emphasis upon memory and superficial judgment. . little time for the art of expression. . little attention to the needs of particular individuals in a class. . the class being made a place for displaying knowledge. . little self-reliant, independent thinking. as illustrative of the fact question may we set down the following: who was joseph smith? what was his father's name? what was his mother's name? where was he born? how old was he when he received his first vision? when did he receive the plates? the _challenging question_ and the _leading question_ are closely enough allied that we may well discuss them together. they are both intended to provoke creative thinking. the leading question aims to capitalize on what is already in the pupil's mind in getting him to go one step further to a conclusion we already have in mind. instead of telling a class of young children that joseph smith prayed to the lord for help in choosing the church to which he might best belong, we might proceed by saying that the prophet had asked his father and mother--he had asked his best friends--he had talked with all the ministers he could find--he had read in all of the available books--now who can tell what else he could do? the chief merit of the leading question lies in the fact that it paves the way for the answer. it is particularly helpful in encouraging young and backward pupils. but is easily subject to abuse. so much so that its use is very largely restricted in law courts. it results too frequently in the teacher's thinking for the pupil, and therefore ought to be used with care. the challenging question is the question that fosters originality of thought, independence of judgment. it simply raises a problem and leaves pupils free to arrive at their own conclusions. it makes for an intelligent faith so much desired in a democratic church such as ours. it is the one question above all others that guarantees a vital class distinction. of course, there is a place for all four of these types of questions. as was said relative to the methods of the recitation, the best method is a variety of methods. so with questions. it is perfectly clear, however, that for general purposes that question which prompts greatest reflection and independent thinking is the best one to indulge most frequently. the following questions out of a lesson on joseph smith's first vision are set down as typical of thought-provoking questions: . in view of the fact that when men choose a man for president of a bank they look for a man of maturity and experience, how do you explain that joseph smith, a mere boy, with little training or experience, was entrusted with the great responsibility of founding what we claim is the greatest institution of these latter days? . how can you convince the world that a just god would declare that none of their churches is right? . what vital truths are announced to the world through his first vision? let us conclude this chapter with one more quotation from miss stevens. when asked to name the three outstanding characteristics of a good question, she set them down as follows: . a good question should stimulate reflection. . it should be adapted to the experience of the pupil. . it should draw forth a well-rounded answer. * * * * * questions on questioning do i call on my pupils to recite in a fixed order, according to alphabet or seating, so that they are warned not to attend till their turn comes? do i name the pupil who is to answer before i put the question? do i ask direct questions or alternative questions which can be answered without knowledge or thought? do i ask chiefly fact questions? do i ask leading or suggestive questions? do i repeat my questions? attention. do i answer my own questions? do i ask confusing, changed questions? do i ask foolish questions that no one can answer? do my questions make pupils think? do my questions follow up the answer and lead to new organization of knowledge? do i repeat the pupil's answer? do my questions reach all the members of the class? do i make the recitation an inquisition, or do i pursue a slow pupil and listen while pupils express themselves freely and naturally? * * * * * questions and suggestions--chapter xxi . why is it essential that we prepare questions as we do other material? . what are the dangers that attend the asking of a great number of fact questions? . discuss the relative value of the "w's"--what, who, when, where, and why. . discuss each of the questions on questioning in this chapter. . bring in three thought-provoking questions on one of the current lessons in the month's work of one of the auxiliary organizations. helpful references fitch, _the art of questioning_; stevens, _the question as a measure of efficiency in instruction_; weigle, _talks to sunday school teachers_; horne, _story telling, questioning, and studying_; brumbaugh, _the making of a teacher_; driggs, _the art of teaching_. chapter xxii the problem of discipline outline--chapter xxii a popular misconception of discipline.--discipline inherent in teaching.--importance of discipline in our religious teaching.--changed attitude within the past three centuries toward discipline.--what discipline is. methods of securing discipline: the method of rewards; the method of "pleasing the teacher"; the method of punishment; the method of social appeal; the method of interest. the importance of a proper attitude on the part of one who disciplines.--what constitutes such an attitude? back in the writer of these chapters was invited to address a group of teachers on the subject of discipline. this particular lecture came toward the end of a series of lectures given on the various pedagogical truths underlying teaching. one particular teacher, who had listened to all of the lectures, expressed appreciation of the fact that discipline was to be discussed--it apparently was his one concern, as indicated in his remark: "we have listened to some excellent theories in these lectures. but i have to teach a class of real live boys and girls. how can i keep the little rascals quiet long enough to work the theories out?" the remark expresses admirably the attitude of very many teachers relative to discipline. they regard teaching as one thing--discipline as quite another. with them discipline involves some sort of magic process or the application of some iron rule authority, which secures order that teaching may then be indulged in. as a matter of fact, discipline is inherent in good teaching. it is not a matter of correction so much as a matter of prevention. the good disciplinarian anticipates disorder--directs the energies of his pupils so that the disorder is made impossible by attention to legitimate interests. discipline is one of the most pressing problems in the quorums and organizations of the church today. on every hand the complaint is registered that proper respect is not shown, either for those in important positions or for our places of worship. the spirit that accompanies the political rally or basketball game, held in our amusement halls, too frequently is carried into our sacred meetings. the spirit of unconcern is carried into our classrooms until all too often to call the condition one of disorder is a very inadequate description of the procedure. it is interesting to note the changing attitude generally in the matter of discipline. the harshness of other days is largely replaced by a leniency that borders on "easiness." our whole attitude toward criminals has been revolutionized, and our human impulses have carried over into the realm of teaching, until now, at least in the opinion of very many critics, we have drifted largely into "soft pedagogy"--a process of trying to please regardless of the consequences. earlier treatises on education devoted a good bit of space to the amount and kind of punishment that should be administered in a well-ordered school. punishment is decidedly out of taste these days. the biography of an old german master discloses the fact that during his teaching career he had administered , raps with his cane, , with a ruler, , with his hand, and that he was responsible for , , slaps on the head. the same attitude is reflected in the fact that in england, as late as the year , two hundred twenty-three offenses were punishable by death. the offenses included shooting rabbits, stealing, defacing westminster bridge, etc. in our day we hesitate to apply the extreme penalty even to the murderer. the attitude toward the content of teaching has undergone a change quite in keeping with that attached to method. there was a time when pedagogical philosophy rather hinted, "it doesn't make any difference what you teach a boy, as long as he doesn't like it." the hint these days might more nearly read: "it doesn't make any difference how valuable certain material is for a boy, don't attempt to teach it to him unless it fascinates him." our effort to interest our pupils has practically resulted in taking the scriptures, particularly the old testament, out of our organizations. of course, the doctrine of interest is a very vital one, but there are bounds beyond which we ought not to push it. it is, therefore, perfectly obvious that there is urgent need of discipline. any effort at social control demands it. the army succeeds as it does because of its discipline. wherever a group of individuals undertake action in common, every member must be willing to sink _interests_ of _self_ in _welfare_ of _others_. as was pointed out in the chapter on individual differences, a class is made up of all kinds of individuals. they vary in capacity, in ideals, in training, in attitude, in disposition, and in purpose. manifestly group progress will be made possible in any such case by a mutual willingness to co-operate--a willingness to attend a discussion even though not particularly interested in it, but because it may be of concern to someone else whose interests i have undertaken to promote. my very presence in the class imposes such a responsibility upon me. it is essential in a discussion of discipline that we agree as to just what discipline is. it is not _mere silence_. silent "quietness" may be agreeable, but it certainly does not make for achievement. such silence would be of little worth if it could be achieved, and it cannot be achieved with twentieth century human beings. the question of the lad who had been taken to task for his disturbance is always refreshing. the teacher, after a somewhat prolonged scolding, had concluded: "now, tommie, do be quiet." "what fur?" the english may not be the choicest, but the sense is wonderfully significant to the teacher who would really understand the problem of discipline. discipline is not repression. the _d_ of discipline and the _d_ of don't have been confused all too often. just as the too frequent use of the brakes on an automobile ruins the lining, so the too frequent "don't" of repression ruins the "goodwill lining" of the boy, and when that lining is gone the "brake squeaks," and in emergencies doesn't hold at all. discipline rather consists in that direction of wholesome activity which creates an atmosphere of intellectual endeavor in which every individual of a group can profitably follow his own interests while allowing every other individual to do the same thing free from interference. discipline makes it possible for all to do the thing to be done to advantage. it may at times require silence, it may involve vigorous action--it always presumes intelligent direction that holds those concerned to the orderly pursuit of an established goal. various means have been devised for the securing of discipline. the _doctrine of rewards_ has been and still is being followed extensively. to give an individual something for being good has never appealed to educators as fundamentally sound. it puts a false evaluation upon virtue. it may be that such a policy must be resorted to in emergencies, but followed regularly it is likely to be attended with disastrous results. the boy who has regularly to be bought into doing what he should will likely raise his price until the method of rewards becomes ruinous both to the father and the boy. to "heroize" a boy in class every time he does a meritorious act will very likely spoil him. encouragement, of course, is helpful, but it ought not to be overindulged. a stick of candy may induce a child to go to bed agreeably each night, but the candy may spoil other things than the bedspread. moral fibre is built up by developing the habit of doing a thing because it is right--because it ought to be done. there are teachers and preachers who hold the interest of those taught by tickling their ears with material, either funny or nonsensical. there is a question whether it is not a dangerous practice in an effort to win them to what should be an attitude of religious devotion. then there is the doctrine that children should be good to please their parents and teachers. this doctrine is akin to that of rewards. it sets up something of a false ideal, though of course it is a splendid thing to teach appreciation of those who help us. much can be defended which seeks to inculcate in the minds of children reverence for their elders. the chief difficulty lies in the fact that this doctrine may not continue to appeal as fundamentally sound. a third method for securing discipline is to compel it. this is to resort to the law of things. a certain amount of law should characterize both the home and the classroom. obedience and order are the first laws of heaven and are essential to good social environment. but the law should be so administered that the obedience exacted rests upon an intelligent understanding of the purpose behind the law. otherwise there comes a time when mere authority fails to control. it is a good thing to train children to abide by regulations out of a sense of duty. if duty and love can be coupled, the combination makes for permanent law-abiding. arbitrary authority and blind obedience have produced germany. strong leadership coupled with democratic co-operation and loyalty have produced america. still another doctrine of discipline rests upon a social appeal. members of a group agree that in the interest of everyone's welfare each individual will subscribe to certain conditions regardless of their application to him. this principle, fundamental in all democracies, can safely be trusted to secure desired results in groups mature enough to assure sound judgment. the sense of justice in the human soul is a safe guarantee of both liberty and good order. many of our classes no doubt could be improved noticeably if we could enlist the co-operation of the members to the extent that they would assume to govern themselves. finally there is the doctrine of interest as a means of maintaining discipline. this doctrine implies that a teacher should get his class so interested in doing what he wants it to do that it hasn't any inclination to do what it ought not to do. this doctrine is not the pernicious doctrine hinted at earlier in this chapter of cheapening everything into "easiness." genuine interest may lead not only to effort, but to sacrifice. the boy who plays football does not play because of the ease of the game--he is fascinated by his interest in the struggle. ample preparation and a complete understanding of pupils will make possible an interest that disciplines without any evidence of discipline. surely this is the modern doctrine of discipline, though with it should be coupled that wholesome respect for authority that prompts citizens to abide by the law. no discussion of discipline would be complete which did not mention at least the significance of attitude on the part of one who disciplines. in so many cases when a boy is corrected he complains of the teacher, "oh, well, he's got it in for me." it is always interesting to know whether a parent or teacher disciplines a child because the child needs it, or because the parent or teacher is unnerved and has to give expression to his feelings. the disciplinarian who can correct, when correction is necessary, both in firmness yet in fairness, so that the person who is corrected is made to feel that the correction grows out of a desire to help rather than merely to punish--that disciplinarian will exert an influence for good that is hard to estimate. he is both a friend and a benefactor. let us conclude this chapter with that wonderful passage from the doctrine & covenants which gives us the word of the lord on this matter of controlling others: "behold, there are many called, but few are chosen. and why are they not chosen? "because their hearts are set so much upon the things of this world, and aspire to the honors of men, that they do not learn this one lesson-- "that the rights of the priesthood are inseparably connected with the powers of heaven, and that the powers of heaven cannot be controlled nor handled only upon the principles of righteousness. "that they may be conferred upon us, it is true; but when we undertake to cover our sins, or to gratify our pride, our vain ambitions, or to exercise control, or dominion, or compulsion, upon the souls of the children of men, in any degree of unrighteousness, behold, the heavens withdraw themselves; the spirit of the lord is grieved; and when it is withdrawn, amen to the priesthood, or the authority of that man. "behold! ere he is aware, he is left unto himself, to kick against the pricks; to persecute the saints, and to fight against god. "we have learned, by sad experience, that it is the nature and disposition of almost all men, as soon as they get a little authority, as they suppose, they will immediately begin to exercise unrighteous dominion. "hence many are called, but few are chosen. "no power or influence can or ought to be maintained by virtue of the priesthood, only by persuasion, by long suffering, by gentleness, and meekness, and by love unfeigned; "by kindness, and pure knowledge, which shall greatly enlarge the soul without hypocrisy, and without guile; "reproving betimes with sharpness, when moved upon by the holy ghost, and then showing forth afterwards an increase of love toward him whom thou hast reproved, lest he esteem thee to be his enemy; "that he may know that thy faithfulness is stronger than the cords of death; "let thy bowels also be full of charity towards all men, and to the household of faith, and let virtue garnish thy thoughts unceasingly, then shall thy confidence wax strong in the presence of god, and the doctrine of the priesthood shall distil upon thy soul as the dews from heaven. "the holy ghost shall be thy constant companion, and thy sceptre an unchanging sceptre of righteousness and truth, and thy dominion shall be an everlasting dominion, and without compulsory means it shall flow unto thee forever and ever." (doc. & cov., sec. : - .) * * * * * questions and suggestions--chapter xxii . what constitutes good discipline? . what factors contribute to make discipline a real problem in our church? . discuss our attitude toward discipline today as compared with the attitude toward it a generation ago. . name the various methods of securing discipline. . discuss their relative values. . why is the teacher's attitude so important a factor in discipline? . what qualities are involved in the proper attitude? . discuss preparation in its bearing upon discipline. helpful references doctrine & covenants; bagley, _school discipline_; o'shea, _everyday problems in teaching_; brumbaugh, _the making of a teacher_; dewey, _interest and effort in education_. chapter xxiii creating class spirit outline--chapter xxiii the "pull" of a good class.--the appeal of an attractive classroom.--making it "our room."--the teacher and class spirit.--capitalizing on the leadership of the class.--stimulating free participation.--out of class activities.--some possibilities. there is a "pull" to certain classes--a pull that has all the force of a magnet. pupils not only go to such a class willingly, but anticipate with pleasure the approach of the recitation hour. when duty is coupled with pleasure, there is a force for righteousness that is beyond measure. of the various factors that contribute to the creation of a class spirit, the following are offered as being among the most helpful. . _an attractive classroom._ while it is true that most of the organizations in the church do not have surplus funds for beautifying their buildings, and while it is equally true that many a good lesson has been conducted on the dirt floors of long cabins, it is equally true that rooms can be beautified, and that pleasant surroundings can be made a potent force in holding to our organizations the men and women and boys and girls of the church. of course, elaborate, expensive decorations ought to be discouraged. simplicity always is more consistent with the spirit of worship than is extravagance. but contrast the difference in effect on children of a bare, untidy, makeshift room as against a cozy room decorated with a few beautiful pictures or draperies and made homelike with comfortable seats and tidy arrangement. nor is any great expense involved. the writer recalls visiting a kindergarten class in one of the schools in salt lake county. the ward authorities had not been asked for a dollar to fit up the room, and yet it had one of the "homiest" atmospheres imaginable. the teacher of the class, in addition to having an interest in the class, had an artistic temperament. she had collected through a number of years the most beautiful pictures that had appeared in the magazines. these in their home-made frames transformed the walls of her room into a veritable art gallery--wherever the eye of the visitor rested, it was greeted by a picture that, through its beauty, drove home an appreciation of the finer things of life. the children, too, had been stimulated to a pride in their room. they had brought in the available old rags from their homes and, as the result of a sunday school entertainment which they had put on with the co-operation of the other departments of the school, they had had the rags woven into one of those cheerful, old-fashioned home-made carpets. it was perfectly clear that the children took delight in going to this "their room" each sunday morning. their pride prompted them to take care of what they regarded as their room, and made for a spirit of quiet and good order hard to surpass. during the course in teacher-training at provo, last summer, one of the members of the class courteously took the pains to see that a bouquet of flowers adorned the teacher's desk each day that the class met. it is impossible to estimate the effect of those flowers. their beauty, coupled with the thoughtfulness that brought them in, made for a "fragrance of spirit" that exerted a remarkable influence. once the idea becomes established, pupils will take delight in making their classroom a place in which they will love to meet. . _the teacher._ we have already discussed at length the personality of the teacher and its force in teaching. we need only emphasize the fact here that the magnetism of the teacher, either through what he is or what he gives, is the one great factor that makes for class spirit. the class inevitably reflects the attitude of the man who directs it. he must radiate enthusiasm before it can be caught by his pupils. his inspiration in making them feel that their class is "the one class" of an organization is only too gladly responded to by those whom he teaches. if he impresses the class with the fact that he joins with them because he loves so to do rather than because he has a duty to perform--if he makes suggestions in the interest of a better class--if he starts out by doing something himself by way of a contribution to the class and its spirit--he can be reasonably sure that his class will come more than half-way to join in his plans. not only his attitude is a vital factor--his preparation must be of the same enthusiastic type. a pupil of a very successful teacher in salt lake city recently made the remark, "i wouldn't think of missing brother ----'s class. he gives me food for a week." pressed as to the explanation of this enthusiasm, he added, "brother ---- is unique. he always attacks a subject in such a new and thorough way. he goes below the surface and really teaches us the gospel." it is not strange, of course, that such advertising on the part of class members has built up an enrollment of some seventy-five pupils. let us, then, remind ourselves that boys like a teacher "who has pep," "who tells us something new," "who doesn't preach at us." . _capitalizing on the leadership of the class._ just as in every band of horses there is a leader, so there is in every group of boys and girls. and as with the leaders, so with the followers. "get the leaders," says a veteran horseman, "and you have all the rest." it is frequently the case that a teacher does not know intimately all of his pupils. perhaps in many cases that teacher can know well a few of the outstanding leaders. he can well accompany them on hikes, can take them to a theatre, a ball game, or for a ride. if he wins them they become his lieutenants--they make his class. a word from him and these "under officers" lead the whole class to the desired reaction. "take your leading pupils into your confidence and they will establish you in the confidence of all the rest." the experience is related of a teacher sent into southern utah to take charge of a class of boys who had "dismissed" three teachers already, within the first half year of school. when the newcomer arrived, the air was full of rumblings as to what was to become of number four. he was variously cautioned to make an early departure, to go into school "armed" to "expect anything." but this particular teacher appreciated the fact that he was best armed when backed by the confidence and good will of his class. it was an easy matter to have pointed out for him "the meanest boy of the lot." this boy he sought out and found playing a game of horseshoe. invited to take a place in the game, he entered the circle of the "outlaws" by winning decisively from their champion--"the meanest boy." to this boy, the new teacher was a "real fellow." whatever he said, went! the word was circulated overnight among the boys of the town. the teacher already was master of the situation. "the meanest boy," instead of being the chief outlaw, now took pride in being chief lieutenant. winning the leader won the group, and teacher number four not only stayed the year out, but was petitioned to come back a second year. as a matter of fact, he says, he taught school in that town for seven years. . _putting a premium on participation._ one of the most interesting classes the writer has ever visited was a theological class in the granite stake. the teacher was committed to the policy of taking as little as possible of the class period himself, but he was also committed to the policy of getting his pupils to do the most possible. for the particular day in question he had assigned a discussion of baptism. one member of the class had been asked to discuss sprinkling as the correct method, another had been assigned immersion. the two young men brought in their findings as if they had been trained for a debate. within the forty minutes devoted to the recitation baptism had been gone into as thoroughly as the writer has ever seen it gone into during the course of a single lesson, and the members of the class had been delightfully entertained and enlightened. when the bell rang announcing the close of the recitation, the class petitioned to have the discussion continued the following sunday. it was perfectly clear how the teacher had built up his enrollment. it is fundamental in human nature to love social combat. the clash of mind versus mind makes a wonderful appeal. witness a political convention or an open forum debate! let it be known that a vital subject is to be discussed by men who are really prepared and other men bestir themselves to be in attendance. surely no subjects are full of more vital significance than questions of life and life eternal. if a teacher will take the pains to select attention-compelling headings and then stimulate representative members of his class really to work out something of a contribution, he need have no fear of the success of his class. such procedure not only guarantees a good class--it promotes faith on the part of those participating as few other things can. too frequently we content ourselves with the routine of commonplace "talk." there is no enthusiasm in mere routine as there is none in listless listening to generalities. our effort should be to make our classes intellectual social centers with everybody participating. . _promoting class activities out of hours._ the seventies who harvested the grain for the widow of one of their members did a splendid bit of service, not only for her but for their own quorum. a common objective in service made for a common bond in fellowship. the primary class that was stimulated to take a basket of flowers to one of its sick members was helped not only in the making of someone happy, but in building up a class spirit that guaranteed success. there are so many possibilities open to the teacher who really cares. just the other evening the teacher of a class of bee hive girls called them together for a little social entertainment that they might talk over plans for the approaching season. what a capital attitude? not to wait till the season opened, but to take the pains to look up the available, prospective class members and make ready for an enthusiastic campaign. of course, such a teacher will succeed. class socials of all sorts, baseball teams, authors' clubs, bits of ward service, visits to institutions of interest--scores of worthy opportunities present themselves always to the teacher who is anxious to build up a genuine class spirit. and that spirit is the one great guarantee of real joy in teaching--it makes a class one which its members will always hold in memory. * * * * * questions and suggestions--chapter xxiii . why is it essential that a teacher build up a class spirit? . give three practical suggestions on the subject of beautifying classrooms. . discuss the importance of the attitude of a teacher in promoting class spirit. . point out possible methods for enlisting the co-operation of class leaders. . what do you consider your best method of stimulating members to participate in class discussions? . what kind of class activities contribute most to the life of your class? . discuss the advisability of promoting class athletic teams. helpful references colgrove, _the teacher and the school_; weigle, _talks to sunday school teachers_; dewey, _interest and effort in education_; o'shea, _everyday problems in teaching_; norsworthy and whitley, _psychology of childhood_. chapter xxiv conversion--the real test of teaching outline--chapter xxiv character, a great power in conversion.--our concern the converted teacher and also the converted pupil.--the converted teacher believes what he teaches.--the converted teacher practices what he teaches.--the force of "come, follow me."--what makes for conversion.--the teacher's obligation to kindle the spiritual fire.--his obligation to feature testimony-bearing.--his obligation to take his pupils where they will feel the spirit of testimony. a number of years ago a young graduate of one of our eastern universities was employed to teach science in a school in japan. he was employed with the understanding that though he was free to advance whatever scientific theories he chose he should say nothing about his christian religion. he accepted the conditions gladly, and during the first year of his service was careful not even to mention christianity. he not only taught his classes in science, but he joined with the boys in their athletics and in their social life generally. being both an athlete and a leader, he was soon looked to as the life of the school. his clean life was an inspiration. he inevitably set a christian standard. before the end of the second year, though he had preached never a word, forty young men made application for membership in his church. his life and ideals had converted them as no preaching could have done. what was true in this case is inevitably true in the case of all real teachers. what a man is breathes a power of conversion that no force or argument can equal. hence this concluding chapter--conversion, the real test of teaching. first of all, we are concerned with the conversion of the teacher; secondly, with the conversion of the pupil. they are inseparably interwoven. only the converted teacher can make converts of his pupils. and surely there is very great need of this very thing--_the making of real converts of our boys and girls_ that they may come fully to appreciate the significance of the gospel of jesus christ. upon them rests the carrying forward of that great work which only the _conversion_ of our pioneer forefathers could have achieved. in the first place, the converted teacher _believes_ what he teaches. there is no half-hearted attitude toward the subject in hand. to him it is both true and vital. he teaches with a positiveness and an assurance which grip pupils. what a difference between the speech in which a speaker merely makes certain observations--sets forth certain specified facts--and the speech in which those same facts are heightened by that glow of conviction which stamps them as indispensably essential to proper living. the prayer of a man who does not believe in prayer is an example of the emptiness of unbelief. there is one minister in chicago who openly announces that god does not and can not answer the prayers of mankind. and yet he prays. and what mockery is his praying. mere words. no man is ever touched by such an empty form. such prayers have none of that _heaven force_ which establishes communion with the lord. surely "they draw near me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me." to everyone comes the experience of listening to the heavy phrases of him who would argue and harrangue his auditors into salvation. how his words seem not only to close their minds, but to shut their hearts as well. he fairly talks so loudly that they can't hear him. and then some humble follower of him who shunned the orator's eloquence moves to tears the same audience by his simple utterance of what he knows and feels to be true. he adds the conviction of conversion to mere "hard-headedness." when a man knows that which he teaches is true there is a spirit that gives power to what he says. "the letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life." the experience of a montana railroad executive gives force to this thought. he told one of our leaders how he had always been impressed with the achievements of our church. in fact, he became such an admirer of the wonderful organization of the "mormon" church that he decided to adopt the same kind of organization in his railroad. to quote: "i thought if i could apply the same system up here that you have in the 'mormon' church it would work just the same for me as it did for you. i have copied its plan with the first presidency, the council of the twelve, the presiding bishop, and all the other officers. i have tried it--but it wouldn't work for me." only a latter-day saint can fully understand why. and so the teacher who would become a converter must feel the truth of what he teaches so that a spirit of conviction extends from him to his class and so takes hold of the members that they, too, feel the truth of what he says. in short, the real teacher must have a testimony of the truthfulness of the gospel of jesus christ. he must be caught up by that same spirit that opened the heavens to the prophet joseph smith--only then can he really teach. the lord has so revealed: "and they shall observe the covenants and church articles to do them, and these shall be their teaching, as they shall be directed by the spirit; "and the spirit shall be given unto you by the prayer of faith, and if ye receive not the spirit, ye shall not teach." (doc. & cov., sec. : , .) "verily i say unto you, he that is ordained of me and sent forth to preach the word of truth by the comforter, in the spirit of truth, doth he preach it by the spirit of truth or some other way? "and if it be by some other way, it is not of god. "and again, he that receiveth the word of truth, doth he receive it by the spirit of truth or some other way? "if it be some other way it be not of god: "therefore, why is it that ye cannot understand and know that he that receiveth the word by the spirit of truth, receiveth it as it is preached by the spirit of truth? "wherefore, he that preacheth and he that receiveth, understandeth one another, and both are edified and rejoice together; "and that which doth not edify is not of god and is darkness; "that which is of god is light; and he that receiveth light and continueth in god, receiveth more light, and that light groweth brighter and brighter until the perfect day." (doc. & cov., sec. : - .) in the second place, the teacher's belief must be translated into daily life. "come, follow me," is the admonition that makes for conversion. a young man recently, in characterizing the biggest failure among teachers that he had ever known, remarked, "he simply couldn't teach us anything. he started in by giving us a vigorous lecture against tobacco, but before a week had passed we all knew that he himself smoked. he might just as well have given up teaching right there. we couldn't see any truth in him after that, for the 'smoke' of his own deception." of course, he was not converted. a similar experience is related of the principal of a school who, with his faculty of teachers, made it a school rule that there should be no playing of cards on the part of the students. the rule recorded, however, the principal proceeded to participate in downtown card parties until he established a reputation, in the language of the boys, as a "card shark." not only did that principal find it impossible thereafter to combat the evil of students cutting classes to play cards, he lost that confidence on the part of the student body without which school discipline cannot be achieved. lack of conversion--such conversion as leads a man to practice what he preaches--cost him his position. to the teacher who would develop the power of conversion, may we make reference by way of review to those suggestions in an earlier chapter that make for spiritual growth: . live a clean life. . read the word of the lord. . do the duties assigned by those in authority. . subscribe to all the principles of the gospel. . cultivate a real spirit of prayer. if the teacher is really converted, of course the conversion of his pupils follows very largely as a corollary. but by way of practical suggestion, it may be helpful to list some things that may be done to promote a spirit of testimony on the part of the pupils. at the outset a teacher ought to appreciate just what a testimony is and how it varies with the age and experience of children. it is clearly a mistake as a general rule to expect young children to give expression to a testimony such as might be borne by an adult. true, some children enjoy at an early age the spirit of testimony to such an extent that they do seem to know that the gospel is true. but it is wiser not to expect too much. then, too, testimonies vary with individuals. teachers ought to look out for expressions which are characteristic of the pupil in question rather than to expect all pupils to measure up to a set standard. with a proper conception of a testimony, the teacher then owes certain rather definite obligations to his class. he ought to feature testimony bearing rather than to apologize for it. in the teaching of the gospel of jesus christ there can be no more sacred opportunity than that which allows pupils to open their hearts to their creator. then, too, the teacher owes it to his class to _kindle_ the spiritual fire which alone can make for testimony bearing. brother maeser had a very effective way of illustrating the significance of this obligation. as he expressed the thought, no one would feel that he had completed his task of warming a house if he merely put into the grate the necessary paper, wood and coal. he might have all these, but until he struck the match which would kindle the fire, no warmth would be felt. and so, spiritually, the fire of a testimony-meeting needs to be kindled. all too often, a teacher opens the class hour with some such statement as this, "now, boys and girls, today is fast day. i hope you won't let the time go to waste." what inspiration in such an opening! that teacher has not only not kindled the fire, he has brought in a lump or two of coal--hard at that--with no kindling even as a promise of a fire. on the other hand, the successful teacher comes before his class with a vital truth that thrills him and gives it a concrete expression which prompts pupils to add similar experiences out of their own lives. then, too, the teacher may well bring into his class by way of inspiration someone well established in the faith whose experiences are full of the spirit of conversion. there are in every ward in the church those men and women who know of a surety that the gospel is true. why not bring them in occasionally to stimulate testimony bearing? might it not be well, also, to take the class as a class to our fast day sacrament service, there to let them enjoy the wonderful spirit of testimony that is so characteristic of these meetings? there is a feeling of conversion that attends these meetings that all boys and girls must feel--must feel so keenly that they in turn will want to give expression to their own convictions. and finally, as teachers, let us remind ourselves that in this matter of promoting the bearing of testimonies we should exercise a patience that is full of tolerance and forbearance. some few individuals are converted suddenly; others respond to the truth gradually; and there are those who do well if they really respond to the feeling of conversion at the end of a lifetime. as one of our leaders has so beautifully pointed out, the master, himself, did not convert the world in a day, nor a year--he has not converted it in all these centuries. his plan seems to be to teach the truth and wait patiently until the divinity in man asserts itself--until man walks by his own light into eternal truth. under the inspiration of such example may teachers well labor on in earnestness, happy in the thought that he will hasten in his own due time what to them may seem a long, slow process. "perchance, in heaven, one day to me some blessed saint will come and say, 'all hail, beloved; but for thee my soul to death had fallen a prey'; and oh! what rapture in the thought, one soul to glory to have brought." * * * * * questions and suggestions--chapter xxiv . why is conversion the real test of religious teaching? . what are the outstanding characteristics of a person newly converted to the church? . discuss the significance of each of the factors that make for conversion. . illustrate how to kindle the spiritual fire. . state why or why not you favor making assignments for testimony day. . what is a testimony? . how may children best cultivate a testimony? . what principle or practice means most to you by way of affirming your own testimony? helpful references the doctrine & covenants, the bible, the book of mormon, the voice of warning, rays of living light. _bibliography_ _the art of teaching_ driggs deseret book co., salt lake. _the art of questioning_ fitch a. flanigan co., chicago. _story telling, questioning and studying_ horne macmillan co., new york. _principles of psychology_ james h. holt & co., new york. _fundamentals of child study_ kirkpatrick macmillan co., new york. _a study of child nature_ harrison r.r. donnelley & sons, chicago. _psychology of childhood_ norsworthy and whitley macmillan co., new york. _the essentials of character_ sisson macmillan co., new york. _principles of teaching_ thorndike a.g. seiler, new york. _education for character_ sharp bobbs, merrill co., indianapolis. _the ideal teacher_ g.h. palmer houghton-mifflin co., new york. _the seven laws of teaching_ j.m. gregory the pilgrim press, chicago. _the point of contact in teaching_ dubois dodd, mead & co., new york. _interest and effort in education_ dewey houghton-mifflin co., new york. _the boy problem_ forbush the pilgrim press, chicago. _training the boy_ mckeever macmillan co., new york. _types of teaching_ earhart houghton-mifflin co., new york. _how to teach religion_ betts the abingdon press, new york. _talks to sunday school teachers_ weigle doran publishing co., new york. _everyday problems in teaching_ o'shea bobbs, merrill co., indianapolis. _talks to teachers_ james h. holt & co., new york. _how to teach_ strayer and norsworthy macmillan co., new york. _the making of a teacher_ brumbaugh sunday school times co., phila. _the learning process_ colvin macmillan co., new york. _the teacher and the school_ colgrove chas. scribner & co., new york. _pictures in religious education_ beard geo. h. doran co., new york. _the nervous system_ stiles w.b. saunders co., phila. _the classroom teacher_ strayer and englehardt american book co., new york. _the recitation_ betts houghton-mifflin co., new york. _attention_ pillsbury macmillan co., new york. _religious education in the family_ cope university of chicago press. _classroom method and management_ betts bobbs, merrill co., indianapolis. _classroom management_ bagley macmillan co., new york. transcriber's notes: obvious printing errors were repaired; these changes are listed below. chapter i "a church built upon revelation" corrected typo: "builded" chapter vi "using an average of thirty-two minutes" corrected typo: "mintues" "their employees that they subscribe regularly" corrected typo: "reguarly" chapter vii "a child's characteristics--his" corrected typo: "charactertistics" "these organic, vital activities" corrected typo: "acitivities" "all nuerones have" "nuerones must be active" corrected typos: "neurones" chapter viii "method of rewards and punishment;" corrected typo: "punishment:" "will be found an interesting tabulation" corrected typo: "tabluation" "few of them can safely be developed" corrected typo: "devoloped" chapter ix "wasn't worrying about what he was" corrected typo: "worying" "concerning which there may be some uncertainty." corrected typo: "uncertainty?" chapter x "group themselves with a certain uniformity" corrected typo: "cerain" "indicate that there is little" corrected typo: "their is" "sent his way than the cheerful one" corrected typo: "cheeful" chapter xiii "let the scriptures testify" corrected typo: "sciptures" "consider the case of the son" corrected typo: "case of of the son" chapter xiv "is so significant when understood" corrected typo: "signficant" "going back some two thousand years" corrected typo: "thouand" chapter xvi "the silent inspiration of that picture" corrected typo: "pciture" chapter xix "the statement, "the best method is a variety of methods."" closing quote missing in original chapter xx "map out their work so carefully" corrected typo: "map our" chapter xxi "a. the review question;" corrected typo: "question:" "'as long as i do all the talking, things go all right,'" closing single quote was double quote in original "when, where, and why." missing period in original chapter xxii "to go to bed agreeably" corrected typo: "agreebly" chapter xxiii "to participate in class discussions?" corrected typo: "discussions." in addition, in chapter xvi a full line was missing. the original reads: "and again, i command thee that thou shalt pray vocally as well as well as in private." (doc. & cov., sec. : .) the corrected text is: "and again, i command thee that thou shalt pray vocally as well as in thy heart; yea, before the world as well as in secret, in public as well as in private." (doc. & cov., sec. : .) none creative impulse in industry _a proposition for educators_ by helen marot to caroline pratt whose appreciation of educational factors in the play world of children, intensified for the author the significance of the growth processes in industrial and adult life. preface the bureau of educational experiments is a group of men, and women who are trying to face the modern problems of education in a scientific spirit. they are conducting and helping others to conduct experiments which hold promise of finding out more about children as well as how to set up school environments which shall provide for the children's growth. from these experiments they hope eventually may evolve a laboratory school. among their surveys the past year, one by helen marot has resulted in this timely and significant book. the experiment which is outlined at the close seems to the bureau to be of real moment,--one of which both education and industry should take heed. they earnestly hope it may be tried immediately. in that event, the bureau hopes to work with miss marot in bringing her experiment to completion. the bureau of educational experiments, west eighth street, new york city. contents chapter i. production and creative effort ii. adapting people to industry. the american way iii. adapting people to industry. the german way iv. educational industry and associated enterprise creative impulse in industry introduction a friend of mine in describing the russian people as he observed them in their present revolution said it was possible for them to accept new ideas because they were uneducated; they did not, he said, labor under the difficulty common among educated people of having to get rid of old ideas before they took on new ones. i think what he had in mind to say that it is difficult to accept new ideas when your mind is filled with ideas which are institutional. the ideas which come out of formal education, out of the schools, out of books, are ideas which have been stamped as the true and important ones; many of them are, as they have proved their worth in service. but as they represent authority, they pass into a people's mind with the full weight of an accepted fact. the schools, the colleges, and the books are not responsible primarily for the fixed ideas; every established institution contributes fixed ideas as well as fixed customs and rules of action. the schools and colleges circulate and interpret them. the movement for industrial education in the united states is an illustration of this. the ideas which we find there have not sprung from schools or colleges but from industry. the institution of industry, rather than the institution of education, dominates thought in industrial education courses. it is the institution of industry as it has affected the life of every man, woman and child, which has inhibited educational thought in conjunction with schemes for industrial schools. no established system of education or none proposed is more circumscribed by institutionalized thought than the vocational and industrial school movement. educators have opposed the desire of business to attach the schools to the industrial enterprise. they have rightly opposed it because industry under the influence of business prostitutes effort. nevertheless, hand in hand with industry, the schools must function; unattached to the human hive they are denied participation in life. promoters of industrial education are hung up between this fact of prostituted industry and their desire to establish the children's connection with life. they have tried to meet opposing interests; they have not recognized all the facts because the facts were conflicting, and their minds as well as their interests, institutionally speaking, were committed to both. this was the impasse we had apparently reached when the war occurred; it is where we still are. but ahead of us, sometime, the war will end and we shall be called then to face a period of reconstruction. the reconstruction will center around industry. the efficiency with which a worker serves industry will be the test of his patriotic fervor, as his service in the army is made the test during this time of war. all institutions will be examined and called upon to reorganize in such ways as will contribute to the enterprise of raising industrial processes to the standard of greatest efficiency. the standard of mechanical efficiency as it was set by germany was one of refined brutality. during the progress of the war, the significance of that standard is being grafted into the consciousness of the common people of those nations which have opposed germany in arms. it is the industrial efficiency of germany, uninhibited by a sense of human development that has made her victories possible. it is that efficiency which has kept a large part of the world on the defensive for over three and a half years. germany's military strategy is, in the main, her industrial strategy; it represents her efficiency in turning technology to the account of an imperial purpose. but those organizations of manufacturers and business politicians who believe that the same schemes of efficiency will function in america will call upon the people after the war, it is safe to predict, to emulate the methods which have given germany its untoward strength. while it is these methods which have made much hated germany a menace to the world and while the menace is felt by our own people, the significance of the methods is but vaguely realized. it is probable that after the war it will be said that it was not the german methods which were objectionable, but that it was their use in an international policy. before the time for reconstruction comes, i hope we shall discover how intrinsically false those methods are; and how untrue to the growth process is the sort of efficiency germany has developed. i hope also that we shall realise that a policy of paternalism has no place in the institutional life of our own country. before the war these german methods bore the character of high success, and they had a large following in this country. there are indeed many thousands of men and women in the united states, who, while giving all they most care for, for the prosecution of the war against germany still support industrial and political policies and dogmas which are in spirit essentially prussian. the professional reformer here in america is not even yet fully conscious that german paternalism (a phase of german efficiency) is the token of an enslaved people. the german educational system as much if not more than its other imperial schemes has been instrumental in developing the german brand of industrial efficiency. the perfection in germany of its technological processes is made possible as the youth of the country has been consecrated and sacrificed to the development of this perfection in the early years of school training. parents contribute their children freely to an educational system which fits them into an industrial institution which has an imperial destiny to fulfill. each person's place in the life of the nation is made for him during his early years, like a predestined fact. american business men before the war appreciated the educational system which made people over into workers without will or purpose of their own. but the situation was embarrassing as these business men were not in a position to insist that the schools, supported by the people, should prepare the children to serve industry for the sake of the state, while industry was pursued solely for private interest. their embarrassment, however, will be less acute under the conditions of industrial reconstruction which will follow the war. then as patriots, under the necessity of competing with germany industrially, they will feel free to urge that the german scheme of industrial education, possibly under another name, be extended here and adopted as a national policy. in other words as germany has evolved its methods of attaining industrial efficiency, and as the schools have played the leading part in the attainment, the german system of industrial education, private business may argue, should be given for patriotic reasons full opportunity in the united states. if the german system were introduced here, of course it is not certain that it could deliver wage workers more ready and servile, less single-purposed in their industrial activity than they are now. it was in germany a comparatively simple matter for the schools to make over the children into effective and efficient servants, for, as professor veblen explains, the psychology of the german people was still feudal when the modern system of industry, with its own characteristic enslavement, was imposed, ready-made, upon them; the german, people unlike the anglo-saxon had not experienced the liberating effects of the political philosophy which developed along with modern technology in both england and america.[a] [footnote a: thorstein veblen.--imperial germany and the industrial revolution.] first, then, it is not certain that the system of german industrial education would succeed; and, second, if it did succeed it is not the sort of education that america wants. america wants industrial efficiency, it must have efficient workers if it holds its place among nations, and american people will prove their efficiency or their inefficiency as they are capable of using the heritage which industrial evolution has given the world. but what shall we use this efficiency for? for the sake of the heritage? for the sake of business? for the sake of empire? business knows very clearly why it wants it, but as a rule most of us are not clearly conscious that we need, for the sake of our expansive existence, to be industrially efficient. we are not even conscious that industry is the great field for adventure and growth, because we use that field not for the creative but for the exploitive purpose. it is the present duty of american educators to realize these two points: that industry is the great field for adventure and growth; that as it is used now the opportunities for growth are inhibited in the only field where productive experience can be a common one. shortly it will be the mission, of educators to show that by opening up the field for creative purpose, fervor for industrial enterprise and good workmanship may be realized; that only as the content of industry in its administration as well as in the technique of its processes is opened up for experiment and first-hand experience, will a universal impulse for work be awakened. it is for educators, together with engineers and architects, to demonstrate to the world that while the idea of service to a political state may have the power to accomplish large results, all productive force is artificially sustained which is not dependent on men's desire to do creative work. a state as we have seen, may invoke the idea of service. it might represent the productive interests of a community if those interests sprang from the expansive experience of a people in their creative adventures. in the reconstructive period educators may have their opportunity to extend the concept that the creative process is the educative process, or as professor dewey states it, the educative process is the process of growth. the reconstruction period will be a time of formative thought; institutions will be attacked and on the defensive; and out of the great need of the nations there may come change. educators will find their opportunity as they discover conditions under which the great enterprise of industry may be educational and as they repudiate or oppose institutions which exclude educational factors. it is for educators to realize first of all that there can be no social progress while there is antagonism between growth in wealth (which is industry) and growth in individuals (which is education); that the fundamental antagonisms which are apparent in the current arrangement are not between industry and education but between education and business. they must know that as business regulates and controls industry for ulterior purposes, that is for other purposes than production of goods, it thwarts the development of individual lives and the evolution of society; that it values a worker not for his potential productivity but for his immediate contribution to the annual stock dividend; or if, as in germany where his productive potentiality is valued in terms of longer time, it is for the imperial intention of the state and not for the growth of the individual or the progress of civilisation. creative impulse in industry chapter i production and creative effort as a human experience, the act of creating, the process of fabricating wealth, has been at different times as worthy of celebration as the possession of it. before business enterprise and machine production discredited handwork, art for art's sake, work for the love of work, were conceivable human emotions. but to-day, a cezanne who paints pictures and leaves them in the field to perish is considered by the general run of people, in communities inured to modern industrial enterprise, as being not quite right in his head. their estimate is of course more or less true. but such valuations are made without the help of creative inspiration, although the functioning of a product has its creative significance. the creative significance of a product in use, as well as an appreciation of the act of creating, would be evident if modern production of wealth, under the influence of business enterprise and machine technology, had not fairly well extinguished the appreciation and the joy of creative experience in countries where people have fallen under its influence so completely as in our own. it is usual in economic considerations to credit the period of craftsmanship as a time in the evolution of wealth production that was rich in creative effort and opportunity for the individual worker. the craftsmanship period is valued in retrospect for its educative influence. there was opportunity then as there is not now for the worker to gain the valuable experience of initiating an idea and carrying the production of an article to its completion for use and sale in the market; there was the opportunity then also as there is not now, for the worker to gain a high degree of technique and a valuation of his workmanship. it is characteristic of workmanship that its primary consideration is serviceability or utility. the creative impulse and the creative effort may or may not express workmanship or take it into account. workmanship in its consideration of serviceability oftentimes arrives at beauty and classic production, when creative impulse without the spirit of workmanship fails. the craftsmanship period deserves rank, but the high rank which is given it is due in part to its historical relation to the factory era which followed and crushed it. while craftsmanship represented expansive development in workmanship, it is not generally recognized that the guild organization of the crafts developed modern business enterprise.[a] business is concerned wholly with utility, and not like workmanship, with standards of production, except as those standards contain an increment of value in profits to the owners of wealth. it was during the guild period that business came to value workmanship because it contained that increment. in spite of business interest, however, the standard of workmanship was set by skilled craftsmen, and their standards represented in a marked degree the market value of the goods produced by them. [footnote a: thorstein veblen; instinct of workmanship, pp. - .] while the exploitation of the skill of the workman in the interest of the owners of raw materials and manufactured goods, had its depressing and corrupting influence on creative effort, the creative impulse found a stimulus in the respect a community still paid the skill and ability of the worker. it was not until machine standards superseded craft standards and discredited them that the processes of production, the acts of fabrication, lost their standards of workmanship and their educational value for the worker. the discredits were psychological and economic; they revolutionized the intellectual and moral concepts of men in relation to their work and the production of wealth. as machine production superseded craftsmanship the basis of fixing the price of an article shifted from values fixed by the standards of workers to standards of machines, professor veblen says to standards of salesmen. it is along these lines that mechanical science applied to the production of wealth, has eliminated the personality of the workers. a worker is no longer reflected in goods on sale; his personality has passed into the machine which has met the requirements of mass production. the logical development of factory organisation has been the complete coördination of all factors which are auxiliary to mechanical power and devices. the most important auxiliary factor is human labor. a worker is a perfected factory attachment as he surrenders himself to the time and the rhythm of the machine and its functioning; as he supplements without loss whatever human faculties the machine lacks, whatever imperfection hampers the machine in the satisfaction of its needs. if it lacks eyes, he sees for it; he walks for it, if it is without legs; and he pulls, drags, lifts, if it needs arms. all of these things are done by the factory worker at the pace set by the machine and under its direction and command. a worker's indulgence in his personal desires or impulses hinders the machine and lowers his attachment value. this division of the workers into eyes, arms, fingers, legs, the plucking out of some one of his faculties and discarding the rest of the man as valueless, has seemed to be an organic requirement of machine evolution. so commendable the scheme has been to business enterprise that this division of labor has been carried from the machine shop and the factory to the scientific laboratories where experiment and discovery in new processes of technology are developed, and where, it is popularly supposed, a high order of intelligence is required. the organization of technological laboratories, like the organization of construction shops to which they are auxiliary, is based on the breaking up of a problem which is before the laboratory for its solution. the chemists, physicists, machinists and draftsmen are isolated as they work out their assigned tasks without specific knowledge of what the general problem is and how it is being attacked. small technological laboratories are still in existence where the general problem in hand is presented as a whole to the whole engineering staff, and is left to them as a group for independent and associated experimentation. but even in such cases the technological content does not necessarily supply the impulse to solve the problem or secure a free and voluntary participation in its solution. those who are interested in its solution are inspired by its economic value for them. in all technological laboratories, either where the problem is broken up and its parts distributed among the employees of the laboratory, or where it is given to them as a whole for solution, it is given not as a sequence in the creative purpose of the individuals who are at work on it, nor is its final solution necessarily determined by its use and wont in a community. problems brought to the laboratory are tainted with the motive of industry which is not creative, but exploitive. the tenure of each man employed in production is finally determined not by any creative interest of his own or of his employer but by whether in the last analysis, he conforms better than another man to the exigencies of profits. if profits and creative purpose happen to be one and the same thing, his place in an industrial establishment has some bearing on his intrinsic worth. under such circumstances his interest in the creative purpose of the establishment would have a foundation, and he himself could value better than he otherwise would his own part in the enterprise. the economic organization of modern society though built on the common people's productive energy has discounted their _creative potentiality_. we hold to the theory that men are equal in their opportunity to capture and own wealth; that their ability in that respect is proof of their ability to create it; a proof of their inherent capacity. it is a proof, as a matter of fact, of their ability to compete in the general scheme of capture; their ability to exploit wealth successfully. while the prevailing economic _theory_ of production takes for granted men's creative _potentiality_ there is no provision in our industrial institution for the common run of men to _function_ creatively. there is no attempt in the general scheme for trueing-up or estimating the creative ability of workers. in the market, where the value of goods is determined, a machine tender has a better chance than a craftsman. the popular belief is that the ability of workers has native limitations, that these limitations are absolute and that they are fixed at or before birth. this belief is a tenet among those who hold positions of industrial mastery. managers of industry for instance who control a situation and create an environment, demand that those who serve them meet the requirements which they have fixed. they do not recognize that industrial ability depends largely on the opportunity which an individual has had to make adjustments to his surroundings and on his opportunity to master them through experiment. a factory employee is required to do a piece of work; and he does it, not because he is interested in the process or the object, but because his employer wants it done. in anglo-saxon and teutonic countries, where people have fallen most completely under the influence of machine production and business enterprise, and where they have lost by the way their conception of their creative potentiality, work is universally conceived as something which people endure for the sake of being "paid off." being paid off, it seems abundantly clear, is the only reason a sane man can have for working. after he is paid off the assumption is his pleasure will begin. a popular idea of play is the absence of work, the consumption of wealth, being entertained. being entertained indeed is as near as most adult men in these countries come to play. their sundays and holidays are depressing occasions, shadowed by a forlorn expectancy of something which never comes off. the capacity of the french people for enjoying their holidays is much the same as their capacity for enjoying their work. this, no doubt, is a matter of native habituation. but however they came by it, it has had its part in determining the industrial conditions of france. the love of the people for making things has resisted in a remarkable way the domination of machine industry and modern factory organization. the french work shop, averaging six persons, is as characteristic of france as the huge factory organization with the most modern mechanical equipment is characteristic of american industry. as the workers in these shops participate more intimately in the fabrication of goods they come more nearly to a real participation in productive enterprise. this close contact with the actual processes of production gives the workers a sense of power. a sense of their relation to the processes and their ability to control them engenders courage. indeed it is the absence of fear, rather than the absence of work, that determines the capacity of men for play. it was not accidental that the movement of the french workers for emancipation emphasized a desire for control of industry. the syndicalism of france has expressed the workers' interest in production as the labor movements of other countries have laid stress exclusively on its economic value to them. the syndicalists' theory takes for granted the readiness of workers to assume responsibility for production, while the trade unionists of england, germany and the united states ask for a voice in determining not their productive but their financial relation to it. it is the habit of these other peoples to credit the lack of interest in work to physical hardships which the wage system has imposed. but the wage system from the point of view of material welfare has borne no less heavily on the french than on other workers. it is also difficult to prove that the physical hardships of modern methods of production are greater than the hardships of earlier methods. the truth is that neither hardships nor exploitation of labor are new factors; they have both, through long centuries, repressed in varying degree the inspirational and intellectual interest of workers in productive effort. it is not the economic burdens which followed the introduction of machinery and the division of labor that distinguish these new factors in industry, but the discredit which they throw around man's labor power. they have carried the discredit of labor in its social position further than it had been carried, but this is merely a by-product of the discredit they cast on the skill and intellectual power which is latent in the working class. in this connection the significant truth for civilization is that while exploitation of labor and physical hardships induce the antagonism between labor and capital, modern factory organization destroys creative desire and individual initiative as it excludes the workers from participation in creative experience. the new discoveries in inorganic power and their application to industrial enterprise are possibly more far reaching in their effect on the adjustment and relationships of men than they have been at any other time in the last century and a half. whatever the world owes to these discoveries and their applications it cannot afford to lose sight of a fact of great social significance, which is, that people have accepted mechanical achievements, not as labor saving devices but as substitutes for human initiative and effort. they have not, indeed, saved labor to the advantage of labor itself, and they have inhibited interest in production. outside of business enterprise and diplomacy--the political extension of business--mechanical devices have lost the surprise reaction and resentment which they originally set up. as a competitor with human labor they have established themselves as its fit survivor. the prophesy of theophrastus such seems to have been already fulfilled, and any new machine added to those already in power in the parliament of machines can scarcely add to the worker's sense of his own impotency. the business valuations which were evolved out of craftsmanship and which were further developed under the influence of the technology of the last century and a half, emphasized the value of material force, and repressed spiritual evaluations, such as the creative impulse in human beings. modern industrial institutions are developed by an exclusive cultivation of people's needs and the desire to possess. they are developed independently, as we have seen, of any need or desire to create. the desire to possess is responsible for the production of a mass of goods unprecedented and inconceivable a century and a half ago. the actual production of all of these goods is unrelated to the motive of men's participation in their production; the actual production in relation to the motive is an incident. the sole reason for the participation in the productive effort is not the desire for creative experience or the satisfaction of the creative impulse; it is not an interest in supplying the needs of a community or in the enrichment of life; it is to acquire out of the store of goods all that can be acquired for personal possession or consumption. there is no more fundamental need than the need to consume; but for the common run of men as a motive in the creation of wealth, it is shorn of adventure, of imagination and of joy. the ownership of many things, which mass production has made possible, the intensive cultivation of the desire to own, has added another element to the corruption of workmanship and the depreciation of its value. access to a mass of goods made cheap by machinery has had its contributing influence in the people's depreciation of their own creative efforts. as people become inured to machine standards, they lose their sense of art values along with their joy in creative effort, their self regard as working men and their personal equation in industrial life. where the motive of individuals who engage in industry is the desire to possess, the rational method of gaining possession is not by the arduous way of work but of capture. the scheme of capture is a scheme whereby you may get something for (doing) nothing; nothing as nearly as possible in the way of fabrication of goods; something for the manipulation of men; something for the development of technology and mechanical science; and high regard for the manipulation of money. "doing nothing" does not mean that manual workers, managers of productive enterprises, speculators in the natural resources of wealth production and manufactured goods, as well as financiers, are not busy people, or that their activity does not result in accomplishment. they are indeed _the_ busy people and their accomplishment is the world's wealth. nevertheless the intention of all and the spirit of the scheme is to do as near nothing as possible in exchange for the highest return. _the whole industrial arrangement is carried on without the force of productive intention; it is carried forward against a disinclination to produce_. i have said that industry was shorn of adventure for the common man. adventure in industrial enterprise is the business man's great monopoly. his impetus is not due to his desire to create wealth but to exploit it, and he secures its creation by "paying men off." commonly he is peevishly expectant that those he pays off will have a creative intention toward the work he pays them to do, although in the scheme of industry which he supports the opportunity provided for such intention is negligible. an efficiency engineer estimated that there is a loss in wealth of some fifty per cent, due to the inability of the business man to appraise the creative possibilities in industry. when exploitation of wealth is referred to, those who own it are generally meant. but exploitation of wealth is the intention of the worker as well as of the business man. to get, as i have said, something for (doing) nothing is the dominating _motif_ in the industrial world. it is supposed to reflect the self-interest of individuals, to reflect, that is, their economic needs. this motive of circumscribed self-interest during an era of political and industrial expansion has been adopted by philosophers as the guide as well as a clue to conduct; it was hailed by them as a sufficient and complete motivation for wealth creation; they used it as a basis of a theory for race progress resting solely on the efforts of men to satisfy their material needs through their ability to capture goods. this motive together with the possibilities which machine production opened up for wealth exploitation, gave birth to the dismal science of political economy; it suggested the materialistic interpretation of history, and brought to earth utopian schemes of brotherhood. political science is dismal because it is an interpretation of dismal institutions. it may be ungenerous to speak slightingly of institutions which have yielded such great wealth, which have transformed inert matter into productive power and brought in consequence the whole world into acquaintanceship and rivalry. it would be ungenerous if it were not for a fact which has become poignant, that the exploitation of wealth and undigested relationships are to-day the outstanding menace to civilization. the present world conflict has made it clear that relationships cannot remain undigested; that they are not in their nature passive. they are either integrating in their force or disintegrating. socialism has undertaken for two generations to prove that exploitation, carries with it its own seeds of destruction. the position of the socialists is passing out of theory and propaganda through the hands of diplomatists, into statutes. both the socialists and their successors would eradicate exploitation by repressing it. the socialists would repress it by shifting ownership of wealth from individuals to the state, while the diplomatists, through the same agency, would regulate those who own it. it is an historical fact as well as a psychological one that you do not get rid of traits or institutions except as you replace them with something of positive service, or greater competitive value. the institution of capitalism exists not because of its predatory character, but because in spite of its exploitation it _promotes_ industry, and labor and other industrial technicians do not. as our industrial institutions have grown out of a predatory concept instead of a creative one, as capture has been rewarded rather than work, as the possessive desire has been stimulated and the creative desire has been sacrificed, as employers of men and owners of machines have engaged in production because of their interest not in the process or in the use of the product, but in the reward, as wage workers have hired out for the day's work or continued during their adult life in their trade without interest in its development, because like their employers they wanted the highest cash return, wealth exploitation has come to be synonymous in the minds of men with wealth creation. a creative concept which could survive and inhibit the predatory concept must rest on such elements of creative force as are now absent from our industrial institution. it is almost axiomatic to say that a system of wealth production which cultivated creative effort would yield more in general terms of life as well as in terms of goods, than a system like our own which exploits creative power. it is obvious that the disintegrating tendency in our system is due to the fact that production is dependent for its motive force on the desire to possess. it is also obvious that a rational system of industry which sought to give that desire among all men full opportunity for satisfaction would also undertake to cultivate the creative impulse for the sake of increasing creative effort the result would be an increase in production. as logical as this observation may be, it is not so obvious how such a social transformation as this implies, may be effected. every advance in wealth creation which has become an institutional part of an economic system has been impelled and sustained by the material interests of people who at the time held the strategic position in the community. the world has progressed, or retrogressed, as the most powerful interests at any time adjusted the institutions and customs governing wealth production to their own advantage. as the controlling interests in our present scheme are the business interests, it is the business man, not the workman, who directs industry and determines its policy as well as the general policy of the nation in which it operates. it is to the advantage of private business run for private gain, to control creative effort for the purpose of appropriating the product, and to inhibit free creative expression as an uncontrollable factor in the enterprise of exploitation. the appalling and wanton sacrifice of life which are incident to the evolution of machinery and the division of labor seem to demand at times their elimination. in weariness we are urged to retrace our steps and go back to craftsmanship and the guilds. but it is idle to talk about going back or eliminating institutionalized features of society. we cannot go back, we have not the ability to discard this or that part of our environment except as we make it over. the result of this making over might be vitalized by methods which had belonged to earlier periods, but neither the methods nor the periods, we can safely say, will live again. neither our own nor future generations will escape the influence of modern technology. it will play its part. it may be a part which will lead away from some of the destructive influences which developed in the era of craftsmanship and which dominate the present. but a society too enfeebled to use its own experience will not have the power to use the experience of another people or of another time. it is beside the point to look to some other experience or scheme of life and choose that because it seems good, unless the choice is based on a people's present fitness to adapt that other experience or other scheme of life to their own experience. the proposition to revert to an earlier period suggests nothing more than the repetition of an experience out of which the present state of affairs has evolved. nor is there ground for the hope that in time institutions and relationships will be regulated on principles of altruism. it is not apparent indeed that such regulations would yield even the present allowance of happiness incident to our own immature method of capturing what wealth we can without relation to social factors. as unfortunate as we are in pursuit of that blind method, it is safe to predict that the world would be a madder place than it is to-day if every one devoted himself to doing what he believed was for the good of everybody else. the hope of social revolutionists that private business would overreach itself and defeat its own purpose, grew out of the expectation that its tribute exactions would draw the subjects of capital together in a common defensive movement; that the movement on account of its numbers would overturn business and that in place of private management democratic control would be instituted. some such outcome, sooner or later, seems inevitable if civilization is scheduled to advance. the labor union movement, unlike the political socialist revolutionary movement, undertakes in its operation to supply labor with a certain working content, which the administrative scheme of industry has excluded from the experience of its workers. but this content is not sufficient to stimulate the imagination of the trade unionists with the thought that the world of industry is the field of creative adventure. their conception born of experience is not so flattering. it would be a brave man who would undertake to convince the twentieth century adult wage earner, involved in modern methods of machine production, that his poverty is less in his possession of wealth than in his growth and in his creative opportunity. the industrial changes which the labor movement proposes to make are on the side of a better distribution of goods. a better distribution would have a dynamic significance in wealth production, if the actual increase which labor secured in wages and leisure were a real increase. but exploiting capital provides for such exigencies as high wages by increasing the price of products, thus reducing the wage earners' purchasing power to the former level. high wages fail to disturb the relative portion of capital and labor even more than they fail to affect the purchasing power of the worker. it is often suggested that if the state assumed control of industry the blight of business could be removed. but in the transfer we would not necessarily gain opportunity to enjoy the adventure which industry holds out. industry as a creative experience, it is safe to predict, would be as rare a personal experience and as foreign an influence in social existence under state management as it is under business management. the state would curb the amount of wealth exploitation possibly, but would not alter the universal attitude toward wealth production, which is to take as much and give as little as one can get off with. although political socialism may be the economic sequel of private capital there is no foundation for the belief that it will of itself induce creative effort or stimulate creative impulse. the faith back of the socialist movement that desirable attributes like the creative impulse, which men potentially possess, will begin to operate automatically and universally as soon as there is sufficient leisure and food for general consumption, is blind and historically unwarranted. the signs are that a socialist state would lean exclusively on the consumption desire for production results, just as the present system of business now does. neither fat incomes nor large leisure have furnished the world with its people of genius. in spite of the inhibiting influence of exploitation, they have come, what there are of them, out of intensive application to some matter of moment. possibly they would come, and more of them, from the work-a-day world under socialism with the inhibiting influence of organized exploitation removed, but more of them would not insure a democracy in industry or elsewhere. nothing insures that short of a strong emotional impulse, a real intellectual interest in the adventure of productive enterprise. the creative desire is an incident or a sort of by-product of the economics of socialism as it is of classical economics; neither one nor the other depends on its cultivation. either is capable of achieving mass production, but neither insures a democratic control of industry, neither provides for growth, for education in the productive process. a democracy of industry requires a people's sustained interest in the productive enterprise; their interest in the development of technology, the development of markets, and the release of man's productive energy. it happens that in machine production and in the division of labor there are emotional and intellectual possibilities which were non-existent in the earlier and simpler methods of production. as power latent in inorganic matter has been freed and applied to common needs, an environment has been evolved, filled with situations incomparably more dramatic than the provincial affairs of detached people and communities. although this technological subject matter, rich in opportunities for associated adventure and infinite discovery, is not a part of common experience, it exists, and if called out from its isolation for purposes of common experimentation, it is fit matter for making science a vital experience in the productive life of the worker. industry under the direction of business will not open up the adventure with its stimulating factors to its subservient labor force, unless it happens that the present methods fail, in time, to carry forward industrial enterprise on a profit-making basis; or unless labor develops the power which springs from desire for creative experience, to undertake the direction and control of industry. the present is better than any time earlier in the history of technology for the development of a concept of industry as a socially creative enterprise. as craftsmanship extended and intensified an interest in personal ownership, it magnified the value of possessions; as it deepened the desire for protection of private property and the strengthening of property laws against human laws, it was not a _socializing_ force. while the craftsmanship period strengthened personal claims on workmanship and interest in it, mechanical power and division of labor have impersonated industry.[a] in the labyrinth of mechanical processes and economic calculation it is not to-day possible for a worker to think or speak of a product as his. he has no basis for ownership claims in any article; even the price is arranged between buyer and seller and he is not the seller. an article owes its existence to an infinite number of persons and its place in the market to as many more. [footnote a: thorstein veblen--instinct of workmanship, chapter v.] a worker's claim to the product of his labor is merged in an infinity of claims which makes the product more nearly the property of society than of any one individual. and this merging of claims which has resulted in the submerging of all wage workers, has set up the new educational task of discovering the possibilities for creative experience in associated enterprise. while an article manufactured under business conditions is the product of enforced association, we have in this condition the mechanics of a real association. as it now stands, the association is one of individuals, with the impulse for association and for creative effort left out. the interests of some ninety workers associated together in the making of a shoe are not common but antagonistic, except as they are common in their antagonism to the owner of the shoe on which they work. they hang together because they must; their parting is the best part of a working day. and yet the practice of dividing up the fabrication of an article among the members of a group instead of confining the making of it to one or two people, opens up the possibility of extensive social intercourse, and has the power, we may discover, to sublimate the inordinate desire for the intensive satisfaction of personal life. although the division of labor has given us a society which is abortive in its functioning like a machine with half assembled parts, it offers us the mechanics for interdependence and the opportunity to work out a coördinated industrial life. chapter ii adapting people to industry--the american way as machine power rivalled hand work, promoters of industry until recently relied for its advancement on the perfection of technology, giving little thought to the perfection of labor. it was confidently assumed that labor, out of its own necessities, would adapt itself automatically to the new requirements of the machine, and to the shifts of business interest. when it was discovered that there were limitations to labor's voluntary adaptation under the conditions laid down, intelligent business in america decided that the responsibility for realizing labor's adaptation or "labor's coöperation" as they call it, must be assumed by the management of industry and that that management must be scientifically worked out and applied. scientific management is scientific as it subjects the labor operations on each job, each specific job to be performed in a factory, to a testing out of the energy consumed; to discovering how to secure labor's maximum productivity without waste of time or energy. it is scientific as the manager's state of mind towards the physical and psychological reactions of the workers is one of inquiry and a readiness to accept, as facts of mechanical science are accepted, the reaction of the workers. a scientific manager, or engineer as he is often called, bears the same relation to the labor force in a factory that an electrical engineer bears to the electrical equipment. if his attention to the emotional reaction of the workers is less detached than scientific standards require, it must be remembered that he is trying to make adjustments which must first of all meet definite business conditions. where the reactions of the workers interfere with the whole scheme of business administration, (and interfere they ceaselessly do), he has to substitute measures which are not strictly speaking scientific. on these occasions he adopts humanitarian schemes, which are generally spoken of as welfare work. it is the introduction of these schemes which look like a "slop over" from science to charity, that makes it difficult for outsiders to tell just what scientific management is and what it is not. mr. frederick w. taylor, the founder of scientific management, was capable of scientific detachment in studying working men in relation to the specific job. he was able more notably than others had been before him, and more than many who have followed him, to extend the impersonal state of mind, which he enjoyed in the study of inorganic energy, to his study of human energy. mr. taylor's interest did not emanate from sympathy with labor in its hardships; his interest was centered in an effort to conserve and apply labor energy with maximum economy for wealth production. mr. taylor awakened the consciousness of industrial managers to the fact that the energy of workers like the power of machinery is subject to laws. he demonstrated that it was possible in specific operations to discover how the highest degree of energy could be attained and the largest output result, without loss through fatigue. he showed how efficiency could be enhanced by transferring the responsibility of standards of work from the workers to the managers. he formulated, as a business and industry doctrine, that a definite relation between the expenditure of labor energy and the labor reward could be established; that the wage incentive, if applied to labor in relation to energy expended, would yield, or might be expected to yield increased returns. these incentives, rewards, stimuli, which employers could apply would produce, he stated with unscientific fervor, the workers' initiative. the inability of mr. taylor and other scientific managers to distinguish between initiative and short lived reaction to stimulus is simple evidence that their scientific experiments were confined to comparisons which they could make between a yield in wealth where the stimulus to labor is weak, and a yield where it is strong. they will not discover what a worker's productivity is, or might be, when incited by his impulse to work, nor will they secure labor's initiative, until they release the factors, latent in industry, which have inspirational, creative force. the attitude of mr. taylor and his followers, however, differs from that of the ordinary manager who maintains an irritated disregard of the disturbing elements instead of accepting them and, as far as is consistent with business principles, allaying or cajoling them. the significant contributions which scientific management has made are in line with the experiments originally introduced by mr. taylor. they call for the study of each new task by the management, for discovering the economy in the expenditure of labor energy before it is submitted to the working force; the standardizing of the task in conformity with the findings; the teaching of the approved methods to the working force; the introduction of incentives which will insure the full response of labor in the accomplishment of the task. beside the standardizing of tasks and the relating the wage to the fixed standard, scientific management has made intensive experiments in the scheduling of the various operations to be performed, which are divided among the working force, so that no one operation is held up awaiting the completion of another. it has shown in this connection that work can be "routed" so that the time of workers is not lost. the most successfully managed factories also plan their annual product so that employment will be continuous. they have discovered that the periods of unemployment seriously affect the personnel of a labor force and they estimate that the turnover of the labor force which requires the constant breaking in of new men is an item of serious financial loss. the ford automobile works at one time hired , men in one year while not employing at any one time more than , . they estimated that the cost of breaking in a new man averaged $ . . to reduce this cost, they instituted profit sharing, as an incentive for men to remain. other factories have estimated the cost of replacing men from $ . to $ . . a rubber concern in ohio has a labor turnover of per cent. in connection with the effort to reduce the turnover in the labor force the management of well organized factories takes great care to estimate a worker's value before employing him. the policy of transferring a man from one department to another where he is better suited yields evidently valuable results. in factories where there is effort to hold labor, to make employment continuous, the turnover has been reduced in some cases to as low as per cent. generally, however, it is still high; frequently as high as per cent, and per cent is still considered low, even in factories which have given the subject much consideration. there is a tendency in developing the mechanics of efficiency, as they relate to labor, to establish for machine production standards of workmanship. long and weary experience has proved that wage earners under factory methods and machine conditions are not interested in maintaining standards of work. the standards which are set by the scientific management schemes of efficiency are not, to be sure, the qualitative standards of craftsmanship but they are qualitative as well as quantitative standards of machine work. the tendency to establish standards should have educational significance for workers. it would have, if the responsibility for setting standards as well as maintaining them rested in any measure with the workers; it would have, that is, if the workers had the interest in workmanship, which as things now stand they have not. the point in scientific management is that efficiency depends, wholly depends they believe, on centralizing the responsibility for setting and maintaining workmanship standards, on transferring the responsibility for standards of work from workers who do it, to the management who directs it done. i have learned of only one manager who realizes that although the factory workers are not to be trusted to maintain standards, a management nevertheless will fail to get the workers' full coöperation until it arouses their interest in maintaining them. the manager is mr. robert wolf, who illustrated this point at a meeting of the taylor society in march, . in describing the process of extracting the last possible amount of water from paper pulp, he said: "our problem was to determine the best length of time to keep the low pressure on, as the high, pressure is governed entirely by the production coming from the wet machine. after having determined that three minutes of low pressure ... gives maximum moisture test, we furnished each man on the wet machines with a clock and asked him to leave this low pressure on just three minutes. as long as the foremen kept constantly after their men and vigilantly followed them up we obtained some slight increase in the test; but it required a constant urging upon our part to focus the attention of the men upon this three minute time of low pressure.... we realized finally that in order to get the results we were after, it was necessary for us to produce _a desire_ upon the part of our men to do this work in the proper way ... so we designed an instrument which would give us a record of the time lost between pressing operations, also the number of minutes the low pressure was kept on. it took us something over a year to perfect this machine, but after it was finally perfected and a record of the operations made, we found that the men actually were operating at an average efficiency of per cent, and our moisture test was running about per cent. our next step was to post a daily record of the relative standing of the men in the machine room, putting the men who had the best record at the top of the list, in the order of their weekly average efficiencies. (the efficiency of low pressure, which proved to be the most important factor, was computed by calling three minutes of low pressure per cent and two minutes either way per cent.) as a result of simply posting this record our efficiencies rose to over per cent and our moisture test increased a little less than per cent. some of the best and most skilled men had an efficiency of over per cent, but quite a large percentage of them were down below per cent. we therefore decided that it was necessary to have the foreman give more detailed information to the men as to what the machine meant and how their efficiencies were obtained and to put the instrument which did the recording into a glass case in the machine room where all the men could see it. each foreman took a portion of the chart and one of the celluloid scales by which, we obtained the efficiencies and explained in detail to each one of the men how their records were calculated. as a result of this, our efficiency rose from per cent to per cent in less than four weeks, and it has remained at per cent ever since--(ever since being over two years)--enabling us to get a moisture of over per cent."[a] [footnote a: bulletin of the taylor society--march, .] this was accomplished, mr. wolf told them, without resorting to piece work or bonus or any of the special methods of payments, their men being hired by the day throughout the entire plant. mr. wolf accomplished the result by giving meaning to a meaningless task, by letting the men see for themselves how they arrived at results, letting them see the different processes of getting results and knowing on their own account which were the most valuable. there may be other managers who appreciate the value of letting men in on the experimental effort of getting results but it is not the practice to do so and it is opposed to the idea of transferring the responsibility from the workshop to the manager's office or laboratory. because of this practice the educational value of establishing standards of workmanship is lost so far as the workers are concerned. mr. wolf's criticism of orthodox scientific management and his conclusions are illuminating; they are indeed revolutionary in nature as they come from a manager of a successful industrial enterprise: "our efforts, ever since we began to realize the workman's point of view, have been not to take responsibility from him. it is our plan to increase his responsibility and we feel that it is our duty to teach him to exercise his reasoning power and intelligence to its fullest extent. there is _no advantage gained by stimulating a man's reasoning power, and through this means his creative faculty, if the management relieves the man of the responsibility for each individual operation_. the opportunity for self expression, which is synonymous with joy in work, is something that the workman is entitled to, and we employers who feel that management is to become a true science must begin to think less of the science of material things and think more of the science of human relationships. our industries must become _humanized_, otherwise there will be no relief from the present state of unrest in the industries of the world. "in this connection it might be well to observe that our experience in the pulp industry has been that instructions which go _too much into detail_ tend to deaden interest in the work. we realize fully the value of sufficient instructions to get uniform results, but we try to leave as much as possible to the judgment of the individual operator, making our instructions take more the form of constant _teaching of principles_ involved in the operation than of definite _fixed rules_ of procedure. it is necessary to produce a desire in the heart of the workman to do good work. no amount of coercion will enlist him thoroughly in the service. "the new efficiency is going to reckon a great deal more with the needs of the individual man; but in order to do this, it must have some philosophical conception of the reason for man's existence. _it is beginning to be understood that when we deny to vast numbers of individuals the opportunity to do creative work, we are violating a great universal law_." scientific management is sacrificing educational opportunity latent in the realization of workmanship standards in the same way that machinery sacrificed it. they both curtail the workers' chance to discover first-hand what the processes of fabrication are, the processes in which they are involved; they must adopt ready-made methods of doing their work, they must accept them out of hand without questioning, or chance to question, their validity. workers endowed with good health and moral vigor resist these attempts to put something over on them, irrespective of their good or evil results. the workers have resisted machinery not only because as individuals they were thrown, out of jobs for a time or lost them permanently, but because the machine imposed on them a method of work, of activity over which they had no control. scientific management has undertaken to gather up whatever bits of initiative the machine had not already taken over and to hand back to the workers at the bench directions for them to follow with a blind ability to accept instruction. it is incredible to factory managers that workers object to being taught "right" ways of doing things. their objection is not to being taught, but to being told that some one way is right without having had the chance to know why, or whether indeed it is the right way. this resistance to being taught, it seems, is nothing more nor less than a wayward desire of a worker to do his own way because it is his way, and of course from the managers' point of view, that is stupid. it is stupid, but the stupidity is in the situation. what does this waywardness of the worker to do his own way suggest? not that he has a way worth bothering about but that he wants to exercise the quality which all industrial managers agree he does not possess--his initiative. now a man who has the desire to exercise initiative and does not know how to put anything through is not only a useless person in society but the most pestiferous fellow in existence. allowing that he is does not mean that he has not the power of initiative or that he could not have learned to put this initiative to good use, if at any time in his manhood or youth he had been taught to use it, instead of being required to follow the accepted ways of doing things without having had the experience of trial and error. schools and factory management give workers scant opportunity to discover whether they have initiative or have not. mr. wolf finds that "while it is possible, under certain conditions, to compel obedience, there is no possible way in which a man can be compelled to do his work willingly and when he does it unwillingly he is far from being efficient. he must have the opportunity to enjoy his work and realize himself in its performance." "in our plant," he remarks, "we never made it a practice to determine arbitrarily standard methods for performing an operation, for we believe that the men who are actually doing the work have generally as much to contribute as the foremen and department heads in deciding standard practices; and because we give the workman the chance to have the most to say about the matter, he is willing to conform to the standard, because it really represents a concensus of opinion of the men in his particular group." it is significant in this connection to remember that he does not pay the men by special methods to get the return. "i am not necessarily opposed to piece work or task and bonus methods of payment.... we have been able to obtain splendid results without resorting to a system of immediate money rewards." he thinks it is better to pay the workers liberally so that they "can forget this economic pressure and do good work because of the joy that comes from the consciousness of work well done." scientific management like ordinary management as a matter of fact does not want to cultivate initiative in the rank and file of workers; it would like to find more of it; and its eternal expectation is that enough of it will rise out of the oppressive atmosphere of the factory system to supply its limited needs. scientific management especially wants this, as it must have more foremen and teachers to carry forward its advanced schemes of organization. but every manager will tell you that industry does not produce men with sufficient initiative to fill these positions. their estimates of the number of men found in industry who have initiative varies from one to five per cent. the rest they believe are born, routine workers. they speak of their limitations as native. managers do not stop to consider that their judgments are based wholly on the reaction of the mass of wage workers to the special stimuli which they offer. they say also that high school and college boys show up very little if any better in respect to initiative than the lower school product. the truth is that schools and colleges are more concerned with passing on the standards of an older generation to a younger, and the younger that generation is the less it is entrusted with opportunity to make its own first hand inquiries. that is, the lower schools which deal with a generation at its most plastic time, furnish the higher schools with minds inured to the pressure of accepting subject matter without independent inquiry or curiosity. factory management like college and school management, instead of depending on the subject matter to interest the workers, instead of opening up to them the factors of interest in industrial enterprise, has adopted incentives for getting the required work done. enlightened school practice, out of long failure to get the children's initiative by the artificial stimulus of rewards for work done, now depends upon the content of the subject matter and the children's experiments with it, to develop their desire to do the work. the practice of depending on school rewards instead of interest in subject matter is largely responsible for superficial knowledge and lack of ability to think as well as to act. as schools fail to incite the interest of the children they train them to put through this and that task and reward them for it without having added to their power of undertaking tasks on their own account. indeed, as they fail to give them the chance to do that, they actually decrease whatever power they may have had. the doing of tasks in factories for the sake of rewards, gives the workers experience in winning rewards. as they are interested only in the reward, they carry away no desire or interest in the work experience. as the method of doing the work is prescribed in every detail and their only requirement, under scientific management, is to follow directions with accuracy, they are trained to do their tasks as the children in school are trained. they are trained in routine, and to do each task as it is given. this is not education, it is training to do tricks. the worker does not take over what can be called experience from one task to another. he forms certain motor habits, called skill. but under the efficient methods of scientific management the acquirement of this skill is robbed even of the educational value that it had under the unscientific method of factory work, which within its limited field, left the worker to discover by trial and error what were the best methods of getting results. moreover, the standards of workmanship which scientific management sets up are not the worker's own standards; he has had no part in the making of them or in deciding on the comparative merits of the results. he accomplishes the results as he follows directions, not for the sake of the result, not for the sake of good workmanship, but for the reward. as i have said scientific management has given the subject of incentives the same careful thought that it has given to the study of lost energy. the two important incentives for inducing the response of labor to productive enterprises which scientific management has carried forward in their applications, are wages and promotion. the general assumption is that the wage as an incentive has no limitations, except the physical limitation of a human being in response to stimulus. and surely it is true that the chance to "make money" is to-day the most powerful stimulus in use. but thoughtful managers of industrial enterprise tell you, incredible as it may seem, that the worker's objection to applying himself to his task is not invariably overcome by anticipation of the wage return; he will slack or be perverse or throw over a job in the face of opportunities to earn as good a wage or a better one than he can get elsewhere. it is well known that workers joint unions in the face of opposition of employers and at the risk of losing permanent positions. a resourceful manager in one of the most intelligently managed plants in the united states told me that women were less susceptible than men to the wage incentive. he found that many of them are content when their wage covers a sum which represents for them their personal requirements; that they cannot interest them in trying for more. on that account the manager takes up the case of the individual girl to see if her ambition to earn more money cannot be stimulated. they find sometimes that a mother requires her daughter to give in her whole wage at the end of the week and that the girl has no pleasure in the spending of it; they visit the mother and persuade her to let the girl keep a proportion of her wage and point out to the mother that she is limiting the girl's ambition. they also find girls who have entire control over the spending of their wages, who are without ambition to earn over and above a certain sum because that sum will meet their own recognized needs. the case of these girls the management tries to cover by encouraging them to save for vacations and other purposes which they offer by way of suggestion. in both of these instances the management undertakes to create new wants or ways of realizing wants which were not recognized by the workers themselves. the satisfaction of these wants may or may not be in the direction of extending experience and expanding contacts. but that is neither here nor there. the point is, the manager of the industry has used an incentive for increasing production which has no relation to production itself. he is forced to do this because he fails to make the process of production a matter of interest to the worker. the processes of production do not of themselves as we know compel the workers' application or stimulate their desire for productive enterprise. it is in the nature of the case impossible to increase the wage incentive indefinitely. one large and scientifically managed plant has made remarkable provisions for staving off the time when the dead line is reached. they have taken stock account of the labor power they require, the amount of energy which each worker possesses, for the purpose of evaluation and payment. they have undertaken to cover as separate items each condition which affects a worker's relation to his job. they rate as separate items the worker's proficiency, reliability, continuity in service, indirect charges, increased cost of living, and periods of lay-off; they rate him according to the number of technical processes he is proficient in, whether or not he is engaged on more than one; they rate him if he attends the night school connected with the factory and shows in this way a disposition to learn other operations than, those he already knows. why, they wonder, does only ten per cent of the force take advantage of the school and what, they are eager to find out, can they do further to secure the men's coöperation. for "coöperation," they say, "in a special way deserves credit, since it is unexpected ... certain well defined acts of coöperation will bring extra reward." their rewards so carefully calculated did not seem to enlist response as spiritual in its nature as coöperation. it seemed that they had reached "the dead line" where wage stimulus fails to draw its hoped for response. to get from the workers the highest efficiency the scientifically managed plants pay for a task a stated rate based on piece or time; if the task is performed within the time set and the directions for doing the task as laid out by the management, are followed, the worker receives in addition to the regular rate, a bonus. mr. h.l. grant, while working with mr. taylor, discovered that there was weakness in the system of paying bonuses, and the weakness was not overcome until he devised a method of paying the workman for the time allowed plus a percentage of that time according to what he did. this method he declares constantly induced further effort and overcame what they discovered was the weakness in a flat bonus. as fair or as superior as this bonus may be in relation to the prevailing rate in the market, managers say that the workers are apt in time to fall below the standard as their work becomes routine, unless the incentive after a time is increased or changed in character. in other words the wage incentive is like a virus injection. the dose is not continuously effective, except as the amount is increased or altered. a usual method of keeping alive the financial incentive is profit sharing and schemes for participation in profits, but they are rewards of general merit and bids for continuity of service; they have no direct relation to the workers' efficiency and compliance with standards which distinguish the wage rewards of scientifically managed plants. promotion, the incentive second in importance to the wage incentive, is of assistance in postponing the time when the dead line for the worker is reached. nothing better illustrates the limitations of promotion in this respect than the fact that in factories where the turnover is the lowest, the opportunity to promote the workers decreases; it falls in proportion to the length of their term of service. that is, chances for promotion are the lowest in factories where conditions otherwise are favorable to the worker. in the factory where the turnover is only per cent the management says that promotion is a negligible factor. where the turnover is high there is greater opportunity in plants scientifically managed than in others to promote men, as the scheme of organization calls for a larger number of what they call "functionalized foremen" and teachers in proportion to the working force. it is as i have said, on account of the necessity of these positions in the general scheme that managers of factories are interested in finding more men who have initiative, than industry under their direction has produced. before scientific management was discovered, business management and machinery already had robbed industry of productive incentives, of the real incentive to production; a realization on the part of the worker of its social value and his appreciation of its creative content. all that was left for scientific management to gather together for its direction were bits of experience which workers gained by their own experimental efforts at how best to handle tools. their efforts it is true were not sufficiently great in this direction to promise progressive industrial advance. the margin for experiment which was still theirs was not sufficiently largo to insure continued effort inspired by an interest in the work. when we have taken into full account the repressive effect of scientific management on initiative, we may well admit an advantage: educationally speaking, the repression is direct. the workers are fully aware that they are doing what some one else requires of them. they are not under the delusion that they are acting on their own initiative. they are being managed and they know it and all things being equal (which they are not) they do not like it. the responsibility they may clearly see and feel rests with them to find a better scheme for carrying industry forward. the methods of scientific management are calculated to incite not only open criticism from the workers but to suggest that efficient industry is a matter of learning, and that learning is a game at which all can play, if the opportunity is provided. scientific managers have hoped that their plans to conserve energy and increase the wage in relation to expenditure of energy would meet little opposition. they also have hoped that the paternalistic feature of welfare work would allay opposition. but i am not inclined to include the welfare schemes in a consideration of scientific management; they have little light to throw on what educational significance there is in the efficiency methods which scientific management has introduced in industry. the playgrounds attached to factories, the indoor provisions for social activity, the clubs, while not having an acknowledged relation to the scientific management of the factory and while repudiated by some managers, are a common feature of plants which claim to be scientifically managed. there are scientifically managed plants which object to the recreational and other features which have to do with matters outside the province of the factory, on the ground that it is a meddling with the personal side of people's lives. "a baseball game connected with the factory," said the educational manager of a certain plant, "has the effect of limiting the workers' contacts; it is much better for them, as it is for every one, not to narrow their relationships to a small group, but to play ball with the people of the town." it is significant that this concern deals with the union and conforms to its regulations. whether this more generous concept of the workers' lives yields more in manufactured goods than one that confines the activity of the workers to the factory in which they labor, scientific management, so far as i know, has not discovered. the very nature of the welfare schemes suggests that they are inspired more out of fear of the workers' freedom of contact than launched on account of comparative findings which relate strictly to the economy of labor power. the policy of leaving the workers free, it was clear in the instance just cited, had been adopted out of a personal preference for freedom in relationships. the introduction of clinics, rest rooms, restaurants, sanitary provisions, and all arrangements relating directly to the workers' health have a bearing on efficiency and productivity which is well recognized and probably universally endorsed by efficiency managers, even if they are not invariably adopted. scientific management wants two things; more men in the labor market to fill the positions of functionalized foremen, more men than modern industrial society has produced; and it wants an army of workers who will follow directions, follow them as one of the managers said, as soldiers follow them. it wants this army to be endowed as well with the impulse to produce. it may by its methods realize one of its wants, that is, an army of workers to follow directions; but as it succeeds in this, as it is successful in robbing industry of its content, and as it reduces processes to routine, it will limit its chances to find foremen who have initiative and it will fail to get from workers the impulse to produce goods. during the last four years, under the stress of a consuming war every stimulus employed by business management for speeding up production has been advanced. organized efficiency in the handling of materials has increased the output, as increased rewards to capital and labor have stimulated effort. but the quantitative demand of consumption requirements is insatiable. it is not humanly possible under the present industrial arrangements to satisfy the world's demand for goods, either in time of war or peace. it was never more apparent than it is now, that an increase in a wage rate is a temporary expedient and that wage rewards are not efficient media for securing sustained interest in productive enterprise. it is becoming obvious that the wage system has not the qualifications for the coördination of industrial life. as the needs of the nations under the pressure of war have brought out the inefficiencies of the economic institution, it has become sufficiently clear to those responsible for the conduct of the war and to large sections of the civil population, that wealth exploitation and wealth creation are not synonymous; that the production of wealth must rest on other motives than the desire of individuals to get as much and give as little as particular situations will stand. in england and in the united states, where the individualistic conception of the industrial life has been an inherent part of our national philosophy, the governments, with cautious reservations, have assumed responsibilities which had been carried in normal times by business. because business administration had been dependent for its existence on a scheme of profiteering it is not in the position where it can appeal to labor to contribute its productive power in the spirit of patriotic abandon. but governments as they have taken over certain industrial responsibilities are in a better position to make such appeals to capital as well as to labor. the calculable effect of the appeal to capital to assume the responsibility is in the long run of passing importance, as under the present business arrangement that is the position capital occupies. in other words, the appeal will mark no change in capitalist psychology as it promises to do in the case of labor. the calculable effect on labor psychology may have revolutionary significance. it is quite another sort of appeal in its effect from the stereotyped and familiar one of employers to labor to _feel_ their responsibility. that appeal never reached the consciousness of working men for the reason that it is impossible to feel responsible or to be responsible where there is no chance of bearing the responsibility. experiencing responsibility in industry means nothing more nor less than sharing in the decisions, the determination of procedure, as well as suffering from the failure of those decisions and participating in their successful eventuation. as the governments in the present case have made their appeals to labor they have carried the suggestion of partnership in responsibility because the government is presumably the people's voice and its needs also presumably are the common needs and not the special interests of individuals. it is hardly necessary to point out that it was not the intention of government officials who made the appeal to excite a literal interpretation; they did not expect to be taken so seriously and up to date they have not been taken more seriously than they intended by american labor. all they mean and what they expect to gain, is what employers have meant and wanted; that is labor's surrender of its assumed right to strike on the job, its surrender of its organized time standards and its principle of collective bargaining. but when officials speak in the name of a government what they mean is unimportant; what it means to the people to have them speak, and the people's interpretation of what they say, is the important matter. these appeals of the governments in this time of war to the working people have the tendency to clear the environment of the suggestion that common labor, that is the wage earning class (as distinguished from salaried people, employers and the profiteers pure and simple) are incompetent to play a responsible part in the work of wealth production. a responsible part does not mean merely doing well a detached and technical job; it means facing the risks and sharing in the experimental experience of productive enterprise as it serves the promotion of creative life and the needs of an expanding civilization. as the appeals of the governments at this time bear the stamp of a nation's will, its valuation and respect for common labor, there is the chance, it seems, that they may carry to the workers the energizing thought that _all_ the members of the industrial group must assume, actually assume, responsibility for production, if production is to advance. equally important in the interest of creative work is the power of these appeals to shift the motive for production from the acquisitive to the creative impulse. in the midst of the world's emergency, driven by the fear of destruction the nations have turned instinctively to the _unused_ creative force in human and common labor, that is to the ability of the wage earner to think and plan. if the response of labor is genuine, if with generous abandon it releases its full productive energy, it is quite certain as matters now stand that neither the governments nor the financiers are prepared to accept the consequence. if labor in answer to these appeals gains the confidence that it is competent to carry industrial responsibility, or rather that common labor, together with the trained technicians in mechanics and industrial organization are competent _as a producing group_ to carry the responsibility, one need we may be sure will be eliminated which, has been an irritating and an unproductive element in industrial life; i mean the need the workers have had for the cultivation of class isolation. as the workers become in the estimation of a community and in their own estimation, responsible members of a society, their more rather than less abortive effort to develop class feeling in america, will disappear. under those conditions concerted class action will be confined to the employers of labor and the profiteers, who will be placed in the position of proving their value and their place in the business of wealth creation. on this i believe we may count, that labor will drop its defensive program for a constructive one, as it comes to appreciate its own creative potentiality. * * * * * judging from recent events in england, where the government appeals to labor have had longer time to take effect, it seems that new brain tracks in labor psychology have actually been created. english labor apparently is beginning to take the impassioned appeals of its government seriously and is making ready to assume the responsibility for production. the resolutions adopted by the labor party at its nottingham conference in november in covered organized labor's usual defense program relating to wage conditions. the manifesto which was issued was first of all a political document, written and compiled for campaign purposes. but the significance of the party's action is the new interpretation which it is beginning to give industrial democracy. it is evident where state ownership is contemplated that the old idea that industry would pass under the administrative direction of government officials, is replaced by the growing intention and desire of labor to assume responsibility for administration whether industry is publicly or privately owned. the party stands for the "widest possible participation both economic and political ... in industry as well as in government." in explanation of the manifesto, the leader of the party is quoted in the manchester guardian as saying, that when labor now speaks of industrial democracy it no longer means what it did before the war; it does not mean political administration of economic affairs; it means primarily industrial self-government. * * * * * perhaps an even better evidence of the intention of english labor in this direction is the movement towards decentralization in the trade union organization. this movement, known as the "shop-stewards" movement is essentially an effort of the men in the workshops to assume responsibility in industrial reconstruction after the war, a responsibility which they have heretofore under all circumstances delegated to representatives not connected directly with the work in the shops. as these representatives were isolated from actual problems of workshop production and alien therefore to the problems in their technical and specific application, they were incapable of functioning efficiently as agents of productive enterprise. this "shop stewards" movement recognizes and provides for the interdependence of industrial interests, but at the same time it concerns itself with the competent handling of specific matters. such organization as the movement in england seems to be evolving, the syndicalists have contended for as they opposed the german idea of state socialism. but the syndicalists in their propaganda did not _develop_ the idea of industry as an adventure in creative enterprise. instead they emphasized, as did the political socialists and the trade unionists, the importance of protecting the workers' share in the possession of wealth. they made the world understand that business administration of industry exploited labor, but they did not bring out that both capital and labor, so far as it was possible for each to do, exploited wealth. that was not the vision of industry which they carried from their shops to their meetings or indeed to their homes. their failure at exploitation was too obvious. an interesting illustration of what would happen in the ranks of the syndicalists if the business idea of labor's intellectual and emotional incapacity for functioning, gave way before a community's confidence in the capacity of labor--we have in the case of the migratory workers in the harvesting of our western crops. the harvesters who follow the crops with the seasons from the southern to the northern borders of the united states and into canada are members of the most uncompromisingly militant organization of syndicalists, the industrial workers of the world. on an average it takes ten years for these harvesters to become skilled workers and these men, members of this condemned organization, are the most highly skilled harvesters in the country. on account of their revolutionary doctrines and their combined determination to reap rewards as well as crops, they are considered and treated like outlaws, and outlaws of the established order they are in spirit. when the owners of the farms of north dakota realized that their own returns on the harvests were diverted in the marketing of their grain, they combined for protection against the grain exchanges and the elevator trusts. while developing their movement they discovered that the natural alliance for their organization to make was with the men who were involved with them in the production of grain. and as the farmers have accepted the harvesters as partners they have formed in effect a coördinated producing combination. without finally settling the problem of agriculture, they have strengthened the production group and eliminated strife at the most vital point. in the period of reconstruction the industrial issues of significance to democracy will be whether or not management of industry as it has been assumed by the state for the purpose of war shall revert after the war to the condition of incompetency which the war emergency disclosed or whether state management shall be extended and developed as it was in germany after the franco-prussian war. fortunately, these evidences of a new interest of labor in industry as a social institution, give us some reason to hope that we shall not be confined to a choice between business incompetency and state socialism. the evidence of the desire on the part of the labor force to participate in the development of production is the factor we should keep in mind in any plans for democratic industrial reconstruction. it is inevitable that an effort to open up and cultivate this desire of labor will be regarded by the present governing forces with apprehension. the movement of labor in this direction is now looked upon with suspicion even by people who are not in a position of control. the general run of people in fact outside of those who recognize labor as a fundamental force in industrial reconstruction, conceive of the labor people as an irresponsible mass of men and view their movements as expressions of an irresponsible desire to seize responsibility. they are the men who are not experienced in business affairs and therefore cannot, it is believed, be trusted. the arguments against trusting them are the same old arguments advanced for many centuries against inroads on the established order of over-lordship. but over-lordship has flourished at all times, and in the present scheme of industry it flourishes as it always has, in proportion to the reluctance of the people to participate as responsible factors in matters of common concern. corruption and exploitation of governments and of industry are dependent upon the broadest possible participation of a whole people in the experience and responsibilities of their common life. it is for this reason that we need to foster and develop the opportunity as well as the desire for responsibility among the common people. after the war, it is to be hoped that america will undertake to realize through its schemes for reconstruction its present _ideals_ of self-government. as it does this, we shall discover that the issues which are of significance to democracy are of significance to education; for democracy and education are processes concerned with, the people's ability to solve their problems through their experience in solving them. if america is ever to realize its concept of political democracy, it can accept neither the autocratic method of business management nor the bureaucratic schemes of state socialism. it cannot realize political democracy until it realizes in a large measure the democratic administration of industry. chapter iii adapting people to industry--the german way statemanship in germany covered "industrial strategy" as well as political. its labor protection and regulations were in line with its imperial policy of domination. within recent years labor protection from the point of view of statesmanship has been urged in england and america. the waste of life is a matter of unconcern in the united states so long as private business can replenish its labor without seriously depleting the oversupply. it becomes a matter of concern only when there are no workers waiting for employment. the german state has regulated the conditions of labor and conserved human energy because its purpose has been not the short-lived one of private business, but the long-lived one of imperial competition. it was the policy of the prussian state to conserve human energy for the strength and the enrichment of the empire. whatever was good for the empire was good, it was assumed, for the people. the humanitarians in the united states who tried to introduce labor legislation in their own country accepted this naïve philosophy of the german people, which had been so skilfully developed by prussian statesmen, without appreciating that its result was enervating. our prevailing political philosophy, however, that workers and capitalists understand their own interests and are more capable than the state of looking after them, stood in the way of adopting on grounds of statesmanship the german methods. the american working man has never been convinced that he can get odds of material advantage from the state. his method is to get all he can through "pull," good luck or his superior wits. he could find no satisfaction like his german brothers in surrendering concrete interests for some abstract idea of a state. he could find no greater pleasure in being exploited by the state than he now finds in exploitation by private business. the average american values life for what he can get out of it, or for what he can put into it. he has no sentimental value of service, nor is service anywhere with us an institutionalized ideal. we judge it on its merits, detached perhaps, but still for what it actually renders in values. in conformity with american ideals, wage earners look to their own movements and not to the state for protection. their movements require infinite sacrifice, but they supply them with an interest and an opportunity for initiative which their job lacks. the most important antidote for the workers to factory and business methods is not shorter hours or well calculated rest periods or even change-off from one kind of routine work to another. as important as these may be, reform in labor hours does not compensate the worker for his exclusion from the directing end of the enterprise of which he is a part and from a position where he can understand the purpose of his work the trade union interference with the business of wealth production is in part an attempt to establish a coördination of the worker which is destroyed in the prosecution of business and factory organization. the interference of the union is an attempt to bridge the gulf between the routine of service and the administration, and direction of the service which the worker gives. i do not intend to imply that the labor movement is a conscious attempt at such coördination. it is not. the conscious purpose is the direct and simple desire to resist specific acts of domination and to increase labor's economic returns. but any one who follows the sacrifices which organized workers make for some small and equivocal gain or who watches them in their periods of greatest activity, knows that the labor movement gets its stimulus, its high pitch of interest, not from its struggle for higher wage rates, but from the worker's participation in the administration of affairs connected with life in the shop. the real tragedy in a lost strike is not the failure to gain the wage demand; it is the return of the defeated strikers to work, as men unequipped with the administrative power--as men without will. there could be no greater contrast of methods of two movements purporting to be the same, than the labor movement in germany and in the united states. the german workers depended on their political representatives almost wholly to gain their economic rewards. their organizations made their appeal to the sort of a state which bismarck set up. they would realize democracy, happiness, they believed, when their state represented labor and enacted statutes in its behalf. if germany loses the war the chances are that the people may recognize what it means for the people of a nation to let the title to their lives rest with the state; they will know perhaps whether for the protection they have been given and for the regulation of their affairs and destiny they have paid more than the workers of other countries, who, less protected by law, suffered the exigencies of their assumed independence. how much the german people depended upon the state and how much their destiny is affected by it is illustrated better by their educational system and its relation to industry than by any labor legislative protective practices or policy. george kerschensteiner, the director of the munich schools, in his book on "the idea of the industrial school," tells us that the _purposes